by C H Gideon
Ka’nak and Jiya followed suit, blaster fire tearing through the dusty space between the two groups.
Unfortunately for the Orau marauders, the dust and dirt did nothing to protect them from the Federation weapons.
The three Orau fell beneath the onslaught. Each took several shots as they attempted to fight back, but their armor, worn and battered by the elements and past battles, failed them.
The Orau crumpled to the ground lifeless, smoking holes adding to the dust they’d kicked up in their death throes.
To Jiya’s regret, their deaths didn’t go unnoticed.
More Orau soldiers spilled from the various huts and tents in various states of undress, but almost every single one of them carried a weapon of some sort.
“Weapons free!” Reynolds shouted. “Highest body count gets a prize.”
“Does friendly fire count?” Jiya asked through gritted teeth as she opened fire.
Ka’nak snorted, taking potshots at the surprised Orau soldiers as they tried to make sense of what was going on.
“Just thought I’d ask,” Jiya added, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Melowi warrior and pouring gunfire into the Orau.
Reynolds and Geroux joined them, the crew spreading across the dusty street to find whatever cover they could scare up.
Blaster fire shrieked all around, but the dust and the Orau lack of calibrated weapons and advanced optics distinctly gave the advantage to the crew of the SD Reynolds.
Jiya dropped a guy who staggered out of his tent without any pants. He raised his gun in her direction, the dangerous one, but he didn’t manage to hit the trigger before Jiya blasted him in the gut.
He went down screaming.
So did a bunch of his companions.
The crew pressed forward, taking advantage of the surprise.
Soldier after soldier dropped in their wake, and when Jiya went to reload, she noticed the Loranian crew bolt from one of the bigger huts midway inside the compound.
Dozens of Orau marauders encircled them and ran alongside.
“Shit!” Jiya growled, seeing them fleeing. “There they are.”
The crew went to give chase, but more of the Orau spilled from their holes, crawling into the light.
These, unlike the earlier ones, were fully armed and armored.
What had been a simple exercise of point and pull the trigger on an ill-equipped, unprepared foe had become a true battle.
A shot slammed into Jiya’s chest and drove her back a step, and she was gladder than ever for Takal’s upgrades to the Federation armor.
She slipped behind a hut to give herself a second to catch her breath, then she crouched and eased around the corner.
She sprayed the legs of the soldiers racing toward her, dropping them in screaming heaps in front of those behind them and slowing all of them down.
Still, as she looked out over the Orau soldiers coming toward her, she realized there were simply too many of them for the crew to take out like this.
“I’m thinking now would be a great time for artillery strikes,” she called.
“Already on it,” Reynolds replied.
And not more than a few seconds later, the San Roche-piloted shuttle appeared in the air above them. While limited in firepower, its simple weapons were far more effective than the handheld pistols the crew carried.
Death rained down on the Orau marauders as San Roche earned his keep as a new member of the crew.
“Was that what you needed?” San Roche asked through the comm.
The Orau scattered beneath the unexpected onslaught, racing for cover although they didn’t completely abandon the fight.
“Perfect,” Jiya called back, giving the shuttle pilot a thumbs-up. It was like the Telluride had found his niche.
San Roche strafed the ground, doing his best to clear the streets of Orau soldiers, and Jiya grimaced as she saw one of the nearby buildings collapse under the blasts of the shuttle’s weapons.
Splinters and dust exploded into the air, the remnants of the makeshift building sparking before flames licked into the sky. Orau shrieked and ran. One was on fire and didn’t make it far, flopping to the ground after a few steps. His corpse continued to burn.
“Go easy on the infrastructure, San Roche,” Jiya warned, realizing the potential for collateral damage. “We know there are more than just Orau on Krokus 1, but we haven’t seen any of the locals yet. We can’t risk destroying buildings with innocents inside.” They have enough to worry about without us adding to it.
San Roche muttered an affirmative and adjusted his fire, keeping it isolated on the Orau soldiers. Jiya understood she was limiting his effectiveness in the long run, but she’d much rather risk letting Orau get away than wantonly kill innocents.
“These guys aren’t backing down,” Ka’nak muttered, a hint of admiration in his voice.
“They’re protecting the Loranians,” Reynolds explained, gesturing down the street to where the Loranian shuttle occupants had fled within a protective cordon of Orau. “Whatever deal these guys have, it must be worth of a hell of a lot for the Orau to sacrifice their lives. We need to separate them and find out what they’re up to.”
“Clear a path so we can follow them,” Jiya ordered San Roche, and the shuttle’s sole occupant complied without hesitation.
A barrage of energy blasts ripped up the dirt street on the left and forced the Orau soldiers to retreat. Jiya and the others took advantage of the opening and shot out from behind cover, racing toward the nearest building close to the Loranians.
Orau soldiers cowered there as the crew skirted the corner.
The Orau barely knew what hit them.
Jiya turned the corner firing. The looks of shock on the supposed Vikings’ faces immediately turned to those of agony and fear.
Ka’nak and Geroux joined Jiya in the attack, Reynolds appeared a second later after having taken out an Orau straggler who’d remained in the street nearby.
Jiya felt a blast clip her arm and she growled at the impact, letting the blow’s momentum spin her around. She went with it, pivoting as if she’d meant to do that and then loosing a blast at the Orau who’d shot her.
He grimaced as he died, the smirk of his success forever frozen on his lips as he crumpled to the ground.
“We need to get on those Loranians before we lose them,” Reynolds called, peeking around the corner while bursts of energy fire seared the air around him.
“You got eyes on the Loranians, San Roche?” Jiya asked over the comm.
San Roche came back a second later. “I do, but you have bigger issues headed your way,” he replied.
“What does that mean?” Geroux asked.
“The Loranian host is stirring up the Orau,” he answered. “There are about fifty soldiers massed behind the larger building on the left at the end of the street.” San Roche paused a moment before coming back, “Now the Loranians are on the move, and there is no way I can attack either group without doing a bunch of damage to the surrounding buildings.”
“Maybe we should weigh the cost of a little collateral damage,” Ka’nak suggested.
“You’d be doing more than taking out property,” San Roche warned, confirming what Jiya had feared earlier. “Sensors indicate there are a large number of hot spots, many small in size, in the nearest buildings. There’s no way to take the Loranians out without hurting what I assume are local families.”
“Which we’re absolutely not going to do,” Jiya stated before the Melowi warrior could argue.
“I agree.” Reynolds shook his head. “We’re not here to add to the misery, folks. Still, we need those crusty shitball Loranians captured. Any ideas?”
“I’m letting off another round of covering fire to keep their heads down,” San Roche reported. “The gathered Orau to your left are insubstantial in number, only about eight crouched behind the next building over, then scattered numbers at all the buildings beyond there. If you can eliminate them, you’ve got a clear r
un to the end of the street and the Loranians on the other side.”
“Can you keep the rest of them down and off our backs?” Reynolds asked.
“I believe so, yes,” San Roche answered.
That was good enough for Jiya.
She bolted off, running in a crouch, weapon held before her as the shuttle ripped swirling, dusty craters in the street to cover her advance.
She rounded the corner with the crew at her heels to find the cowering Orau.
“Kill them quick!” one of the enemy shouted.
Those were the last words he ever spoke.
Jiya shot him in the chest, and he dropped without a sound. His companions returned fire wildly, energy bolts screaming in an attempt to avoid sharing his fate.
It did them no good.
Reynolds took a blast to the stomach, but he didn’t so much as flinch before returning fire. His first shot blew the head off the soldier who’d blasted him, and Reynolds looked damn satisfied after doing it.
His second blast took out the guy behind him.
Geroux and Ka’nak finished off the rest, the Melowi grinning from the furor of combat.
He loved this stuff.
Before the bodies stopped twitching, San Roche came over the comm again. “You’re clear the rest of the way down the street,” he informed them.
The shuttle crept forward, angling for the best position to engage the largest possible number of enemy targets.
“We’ve got a small cluster of Orau soldiers building up at your backs now, so keep an eye on that,” he told the crew. “If you’re going to follow the Loranians, now would be a good time, before these guys find their courage again.”
Jiya started off with a grunt of confirmation.
They charged down the street as San Roche provided cover. Though his efforts did little to cut down on the enemy soldiers, most of them smartly staying out of sight and the direct line of fire, the crew made good time since no one wanted to step out and challenge the fire superiority of the shuttle.
Jiya grinned at their good luck.
The grin left her face a moment later as a group of Orau emerged from behind another building, dozens of locals bound together in front of them, forming a living shield against the crew’s weapons.
“Oh…hell no,” Jiya growled, stumbling to a halt as the locals were paraded in front of them.
“Drop your weapons and surrender, or we kill the Krokans,” one of the soldiers called.
“I guess they’re considered Krokans too,” Ka’nak remarked with a nod, clarifying what the crew had been wondering: what to call the locals. “Makes sense.”
“What do you want to do?” Geroux asked.
There were too many people at risk to be cavalier about it and push on without a plan, no matter how badly she wanted to, but they couldn’t let the Orau stall them.
“What we came here to do,” Jiya answered, reaching behind her to pull something off her belt.
“We’re not exactly prepared for a hostage situation,” Ka’nak informed her.
Jiya nodded her agreement, but she wasn’t going to sit around doing nothing.
“Then we improvise,” she announced, cold determination in her voice.
With a flick of her wrist, she threw a device over the heads of the Orau.
Chapter Thirteen
“Sensors show the SD Reynolds is powering up a weapon I can’t identify,” the Loranian XO H’ron announced. “Power levels are off the charts, sir.”
Jora’nal snarled, staring at the viewscreen and wishing his weapons had a tenth of the heat of his fury.
“A feint?” he asked.
“I don’t think so, Master,” H’ron replied, his face paling. “Energies continue to build.”
“How long do we have?”
“A moment or two, little more,” XO answered. “I can’t be sure.”
“Move all power into the shields as soon as they fire,” Jora’nal ordered.
“Sir?” H’ron asked.
“You heard me,” Jora’nal fired back, watching the Reynolds on the screen.
“I’m not sure we can take this…whatever it is, Master,” H’ron argued.
“Have faith in Phraim-’Eh, XO,” Jora’nal told him, grinning madly. “Our lord wants us to rid the galaxy of these scum,” he explained. “He will not let us die so easily, H’ron.”
It was clear XO was less certain than Jora’nal, but Jora’nal had faith. True faith.
Phraim-’Eh would see them through this.
“Don’t waste the opportunity to do as much damage as possible to that Federation ship,” Jora’nal commanded. “Keep hitting it until the last second.”
“Master,” H’ron muttered, then ordered the continued assault upon the superdreadnought.
There was little hope that the weapons of the Pillar, the Loranian cruiser, could effectively take out the Federation craft, but Jora’nal needed to test its capabilities to the fullest.
Along with the approaching Orau ships, Jora’nal could determine exactly what the superdreadnought in front of him was capable of. They needed only to survive whatever plans the SD Reynolds had for them.
“Their weapon has targeted us,” H’ron called, desperation in his voice.
Jora’nal smiled. His god would not let them down.
He remained silent, standing at attention and staring at the SD Reynolds, waiting for the weapon to fire.
A great glowing ball of energy formed at the front of the superdreadnought and Jora’nal stiffened at seeing it.
There was so much power there.
He swallowed hard, but he wouldn’t let these Federation scum intimidate him. The Voice of Phraim-’Eh had chosen him personally to lead this mission, and Jora’nal would not fail his master.
“Shields!” he screamed as the SD Reynolds released its fury upon them. “All power into the forward defenses.”
It was as if the enemy had unleashed a miniature sun upon them.
That’s when Jora’nal had his greatest moment of doubt.
His vision was wiped out by the enemy’s fire as the blow struck dead on and the Pillar trembled as he’d never felt it before.
Jora’nal was knocked to the deck, the breath forced from his lungs as he struck the cold, unforgiving steel. He howled, blind, and scrambled to his seat by feel. The Pillar seemed ready to shake apart under the blow.
“Shields failing!” XO H’ron cried out as the ship was tossed about. “Twenty percent, ten…”
And then the last of the energy subsided and the wash of brilliance across the viewscreen faded, allowing Jora’nal to see at last.
He marveled at the power that had just engulfed them, its rage hitting the Pillar so quickly that the automated systems hadn’t had time to react to the attack and darken the absolute brilliance that had nearly seared the eyes from Jora’nal’s head.
“Shields are down, but the structural integrity of the hull remains high,” H’ron reported with a quaver in his voice. XO clearly couldn’t believe that they were still alive.
Jora’nal reserved the slightest bit of doubt.
How could anyone have survived that?
Yet they had, and Jora’nal stood on the bridge of his ship, alive and well.
“Hit them again!” he whooped, ordering a continued attack upon the Federation ship.
XO H’ron didn’t question him.
The barrage started once more and the SD Reynolds’ shields took the brunt of the attack this time, energy sparking off the gravitic defenses.
“Phraim-’Eh has graced us,” Jora’nal called as they renewed their attack. “Can you not see it, H’ron?”
“I can, Master,” XO replied without hesitation.
The ship rumbled as the SD Reynolds returned fire, having recovered from the energy use of their great weapon.
The forward armor began to buckle under the attack, and red lights and sirens filled the bridge. Jora’nal cursed and slammed a fist on the arm of his chair.
No matter how blessed he and his crew were, the captain knew damn well they could take little more without the energy shields. The enemy’s weapons would tear the unprotected ship apart.
Though the Pillar had been specifically crafted by the followers of Phraim-’Eh to stand and challenge a ship like the superdreadnought, Jora’nal knew there was still only so much that could be accomplished.
That the Pillar had survived the unfathomable attack was a testament unto itself that the work Jora’nal was doing in the name of Phraim-’Eh was his god’s will. Phraim-’Eh would have reveled in their blood had he not wanted Jora’nal to be the one to bring down the pathetic SD Reynolds and its crew.
“The fore hull is buckling, Master,” H’ron called. “I’ve ordered the ship about, but we can’t take much more of this without shields, sir. Hull integrity is dropping rapidly.”
“I agree with your assessment,” Jora’nal answered, watching on the viewscreen as the Orau fighter-bombers arrived and began their assault upon the Federation superdreadnought. “Activate the Gate drive and put some distance between us and the Federation ship, XO,” Jora’nal ordered.
“And the Orau?” H’ron asked.
“It is up to Phraim-’Eh to save them as he did us,” Jora’nal answered. “If our lord wants them to survive and conquer, then they will. It is not our concern.”
“And our crew on the surface?” H’ron asked. “Do we simply leave them behind?”
“They knew the risks of the mission and have served their purpose, XO H’ron,” Jora’nal replied. “We cannot wait for them to return.”
“Master,” H’ron answered, saying nothing more.
Jora’nal knew damn well he was abandoning the shuttle crew to their fate, but it didn’t matter.
They were simply pawns in the overall scheme of things, and their deaths meant nothing to Jora’nal.
Nor did he believe they meant anything to Phraim-’Eh.
Jora’nal was the one who mattered to the god, and if there was a sacrifice to be made for the great deity, Jora’nal would gladly offer up the shuttle crew.
A Gate portal opened in front of the Pillar then, and the ship slipped through just as the Pillar’s scanners detected yet another building of energy from the Reynolds.
