by TR Cameron
Pieces floated free as their foe’s vessel maneuvered, and the sensors officer announced, “Seeing inside now. Thanks for the hole. We have explosions happening. Vibrations like compartments sealing up.”
The Captain grinned. “Excellent. Weapons, set up a barrage to keep them busy. Stephenson, we have until their big cannon is ready to fire again before we need to destroy them. Can’t risk that thing hitting us if we can avoid it. Your people have that much time to break in, steal anything worth taking, and get back out. Coordinate with Tactical for shield penetration.”
She slapped her restraints free and rose, striding for the door that led to the main part of the bridge. “You got it, Captain.” Jax followed. Now the real fun begins.
A lift ride, a quick stop for gear, and a run through half the ship later, Jax bolted into the Cronus’s hangar bay. The cavernous rectangular space was four decks high, with catwalks at each level ringing the outside. It was empty in the center, where the interior doors that led to the small airlock were located. In non-combat situations, the huge hangar was left pressurized so crews could work without vacuum suits on the array of ships positioned around the perimeter.
The light cruiser had four undistinguished rectangular shuttles, each configured for space jumps. They also served the mundane function of ferrying passengers. They were parked in pairs at the ends of the rectangle, with three always ready to go and one on a maintenance rotation. On the left side from where he’d entered at the bow end of the chamber was an array of smaller ships. Tugs, repair skiffs, and the torpedo-like vessel the SF teams referred to as the “lovers’ coffin,” designed to send two people and a copy of all the ship’s data away from the Cronus as fast as possible before jumping to safety. No one ever expected it to be used, but Jax approved of its presence. Even backup plans need backup plans.
He slowed as he neared the breaching craft. It was another rectangle, rendered in featureless black except for the opening that faced the middle of the area. His team members were seated inside, with a spot beside the entrance left vacant for him. Identical ships on either side of his sat closed and quiet, only the slight vibration rising through his boots signaling that all three were prepared for flight. He jumped in and gave a voice command to join the shuttle’s comm network. He’d already been talking with his squad on the way down, so the team was battle-ready. “Close her up, Stick.”
“Affirmative, Captain.” Panels slid in from the left and right to seal the passenger compartment. Outside, heavier metal blocks would be creating a second seal for the short trip to the enemy ship.
He toggled his connection to Anika Stephenson. “Major, my team is good to go. Request permission to fly.”
She replied, “Affirmative. Permission granted. Hangar will open in ten seconds.” His commander was located somewhere near the middle of the Cronus, in an auxiliary command center that could be configured to oversee any type of operation, including taking over all essential functions of the vessel in case of damage to the bridge.
Jax cut his feed to her and gestured to his people. “So, everyone ready for this?” They were featureless in their combat suits’ dark helmets, but their voices were clear, calm, and energized. Although they were all the same rank, a pecking order existed among them. First to speak was Beatrice “Wasp” O’Leary. “About time we got some action. All this training to get Newbie up to speed and no ops to seal the deal. Finally, we’ll get to see what he’s made of.”
Jax laughed. She was right. They’d been doing an extensive amount of drilling, a requirement whenever a new member was added to the team. The loss of Kyle Drent on their last mission still hurt, but they all knew “Kansas” wouldn’t want them to grieve overly much. This op would seal the transition from their former complement to their present one, and they were all definitely ready for the sense of solidity that would accompany it.
Kyra “Books” Venn, the unquestioned superior intellect among the group, asked, “So, the aliens like to fight, huh? Anything in particular we need to watch out for?”
Chatter between the pilot and the control center encroached upon the edge of his hearing, and the ship surged smoothly underneath them. He called up a view from the bow camera on his display and watched as the hangar swung around them, and their ride descended through the open hatch. “I can’t imagine the teeth will be a factor unless we’re already seriously screwed. But they’ve got claws, and I think we can expect that they’ll use them if we get in close.”
Darius “Dare” Lyton patted his suit. “Good thing this works against blades and ballistics.” They were all adorned in matching outfits, black everything with overlapping armor plates strapped onto it. They did indeed protect against the two attack types Dare had mentioned, in addition to collecting and dissipating energy attacks. When pristine, they were capable of shunting off almost any incoming damage. They won’t be pristine for long, I’m guessing. In his display, the Cronus disappeared from the camera view, and their craft sidled into line with the pair that held Major Stephenson’s other Special Forces contingents.
Things were about to get busy, but he had a moment left to speak to their newest addition. Sebastian Welker didn’t rate a customized call sign with the team yet. That was another step that lay on the other side of the impending action. All new members held the mantle of “newbie” until their formal initiation through a shared mission. His file said that he’d had “Strings” hung on him at some point, and that would work well with his people’s existing call signs, so it would probably carry forward. “Newbie, you good?”
Welker’s voice was always softer than you expected it to be. “Perfect, boss.”
Major Stephenson took over the channel. “All right, people. We’re thirty seconds out. Team One is aft top, Team Two center bottom, and Team Three forward top.” Jax had asked for the front of the ship, and Stephenson had indulged him. “You know the drill. One, engines, Two aux command, Three bridge.” The other two captains, one in each of the ships to their left, acknowledged, and he did as well. She continued, “If the opportunity presents itself, test the stun setting. However, don’t jeopardize yourself or the mission to do it. They’re hardly innocent bystanders. Chuckleheads.”
His team laughed at that, and he grinned. Her delivery was perfect, calculated to reduce their tension. Not for the first time, he thought about how good she was at her job, which involved understanding people down to their very core. Like knowing to send me to the Academy, although that was only partly about me. His thoughts wandered to his adventures with Cia and his other unit, who while not military had represented themselves well.
Then the time for thinking was over. The three ships hurtled forward toward the alien vessel. Fire from the Cronus slammed into its shields along their path, allowing their reinforced crafts to penetrate it without losing much speed. They shifted directions as soon as they were inside, heading for their targets.
Jax rolled his shoulders and his neck, wincing at the crack that sounded in his helmet. Too young to be this old. Maybe I need to give in and commit to being a full robot, instead of just having a cyborg arm and leg. “All right, people. Here we go. Remember, I don’t want to look like a jerk in front of the other captains, so try not to screw up.” They laughed, and he nodded. Right. Let’s do this.
Chapter Three
His ship spun at the last minute to point the opening he’d come in by toward the enemy vessel, then rammed into it. He couldn’t see the operation but knew a seal would be created between their hull and the enemy’s. Then a series of explosive and incendiary charges would blow a hole in the other one.
Before the back panels retracted, Jax slapped the release for his restraints, rose, and grabbed the rifle mounted on the bulkhead above where he’d been seated. When the expected opening gaped before them, he led the way into the Dhelear vessel and turned to face the bow as soon as he was inside the large corridor. His team fell in line behind him, Newbie in the second position followed by Books, Dare, and Wasp. A wireframe sche
matic of the ship’s interior was drawing itself into existence in one corner of his display as information was fed from the other teams’ sensors and theirs. “Team Three, on station.” The other two groups reported in shortly thereafter.
Major Stephenson replied, “Continue to primary objectives. Pick up anything interesting you see along the way.”
Jax selected team-only communication and ordered, “Forward, people. It looks like we need to get two levels down and a decent distance ahead. Books, move up behind me. Newbie, keep your eye on the sensors and especially look for data accesses. If we’re lucky, they’ll have something hackable here.”
“On it,” Kyra Venn replied, and Welker acknowledged, “Affirmative.” The Special Forces, at least under Stephenson’s command, operated on the principle of “Mission first, intel always.” That meant gathering information was a priority on any assignment, in addition to their primary objective. Ships tried to invade one another’s computers as a fundamental part of any battle, but it was rare to succeed with only wireless access. Each member of his team carried multiple devices that could either pull intelligence directly or, better, act as a bridge to the Cronus so her crew could infiltrate the systems if they could find a data port.
Their path ended at a closed bulkhead door. “Everybody to the left,” he ordered, stepping in that direction. “Books, see what you can do with it.” Venn strode forward to examine what looked like an oversized palm reader on the side of the barrier. She poked the rectangle with her finger, then with a small tool, but the unit failed to respond. He shrugged. “Okay, blow it, and let’s hope there aren’t too many of these between here and there.”
She attached four fist-sized shaped charges in a diamond shape on the surface, and they all turned away as the explosives detonated. The metal was tougher than it looked, but a few kicks with the sole of his boot buckled the sections that had refused to give way, sending the center part crashing into the area beyond.
His first sight of a Dhelear in the flesh was as it fired the rifle it carried. The weapon itself was overly large, about half again as big proportionately as their own. It spat a series of projectiles, one of which caught the armor plate on his right arm as he pulled back out of the way and deflected into the hull. Oh, sure, shoot at my human arm. Jerk. He leaned into the passage and depressed the trigger, sending a stun beam out at the enemy.
The alien wore what must have been its version of battle armor, a thick leathery-looking garment that clung to it like a second skin. He wouldn’t have known it was wearing anything, except for the suit’s scarlet coloring. The fabric—or whatever it was—lit up with something that resembled printed circuits as the stun beam struck, the energy blast spreading out from the point of impact with a brilliant intensity that faded as it moved further from the source. By the time the glow had reached the being’s shoulders, it was almost gone.
Jax activated the wide channel and announced, “Stun ineffective against red armor. Switching to projectiles.” The other groups didn’t reply but would use the knowledge to inform their progress. He leaned out again and sent a triple burst at the alien, ducking back as it returned fire. He pulled a fiber optic camera out of his sleeve and stuck it around the corner. An image of the enemy down on one knee appeared on his display. No blood or open wound was visible, but apparently, the concussive force of the bullets had done something. “Wasp, with me.” He moved through the doorway and stepped to the left so O’Leary could go to the right as she followed. He flicked on his external speakers and said, “Put down your weapon and lay on the deck.”
The alien shifted, but not in the direction indicated. He and O’Leary fired at the same time, and the Dhelear fell backward. Jax ran ahead and kicked its weapon to the side, then raised his gun and pointed it down the corridor ahead of them. “Wasp, bind him. Newbie, sling his rifle so our people can check it out later. Team, forward behind me.” In moments they were at his heels, and he crept forward down the long hallway, his boots soft on the metal floor beneath them.
Captain Catherine Lorenzo, leader of Team Two, reported in over the wide channel. “We’ve tapped into their computer system. Tell the Cronus hacks to have fun.” They passed doors on the interior side of the corridor, and each one left uninvestigated was one more itch at the back of his brain. His preference would have been to clear them in sequence, but that didn’t align with their objective. They needed speed, which meant leaving potential threats behind them and hoping Lyton would be up to dealing with anything from his rearguard position.
They reached the elevator they’d been heading for. “Major, do we have control of their systems yet?”
Her response was immediate. “Negative, Axe.”
“That’s okay. Team Three loves a challenge.” He switched to the team-only channel. “All right, we can’t rely on the lift. So, we’re going to have to go down the shaft without it.” He pointed at the indentation in the left wall ahead. “Books, get us in there. Wasp and I will watch forward. The rest of you guard behind.”
In addition to being the smartest of them, Kyra Venn was also the most proficient with subtle explosives. If he needed a big boom, he’d turn to Beatrice O’Leary for that, or do it himself. But precision jobs he left to Books. She pulled the demolitions bag off her belt and withdrew a spool of what appeared to be black string. She used the material to outline the lift doors, the sticky substance bonding instantly as she pressed it against the metal. Then she ran a small tool over the top to nullify the outermost layer, ensuring it would blow forward rather than back at them. When she finished, she stepped to the side and put her spine against the wall next to it. She said, “Ready.”
Jax replied, “Do it,” and a sharp sizzling noise sounded behind him that ended with a flat crack. Again, the alien metal had provided more resistance than expected, and it required three of his team working together to get the doors free. When they announced the task was complete, he faded back to examine the shaft.
The lift itself wasn’t obviously visible below their position, giving him hope that they might be able to manage the two decks down they needed to go without it flying up to smash into them. As he’d expected, doors were positioned on either side of the shaft on their target level. It only made sense that the ship’s main areas would have better access to the interior. The vertical tunnel itself was a solid cylinder except for the doors, which would make the next part difficult.
“Books. Look two levels down, across the shaft. Think we can be subtle?”
She stepped beside him and peered down. “Nope. It would take at least a couple of minutes to get down there, set up the explosives, and blow it.”
He nodded. “Okay, then. Newbie, guard front. Wasp, we need a sticky bomb.”
O’Leary’s athletic skills were the best on the team, so she always handled sticky bombs. The small grapefruit-sized spheres had a cylindrical handle sticking out of a side, making their casting a matter of some finesse due to the irregular balance. She pulled one out of her pack and pressed the button on the top, which retracted the sheath covering the main part of the ball. Now it would adhere to whatever it touched. As long as the throw was good and the handle didn’t strike first, the device would likely be sufficient to blast open the doors two decks below.
Wasp stepped forward, took a moment to judge the angles, and gently swung the object to prepare for the toss. She shifted her weight and threw in one smooth motion, and the sticky bomb obediently sailed directly to the target and stuck to it with a clang. A tap of a button on her wrist comm detonated the explosive.
Jax let his rifle fall on its sling to hang down from his chest. “Let’s do it, people.” He leapt forward, activating his magnetic boots and gauntlets in midair. His hands and feet struck the far wall, and he clung there for a moment before shimmying down the wall feet-first, his toes sliding down in turn as he released and reapplied the power to the magnets. He was halfway to his objective when O’Leary hit the surface above him. Belatedly, he warned, “Be sure to check fo
r the lift before you jump.”
He stopped above the opening, put his gauntlets on the wall near his feet, then used them as a rotation point to kick his legs out and swing feet-first through the shattered doorway. He hit the floor awkwardly and fell backward, which turned out to be a lifesaving moment of clumsiness as weapons fire ripped through the air over his head, laser and projectiles both. “Contact,” he yelled and scrambled to twist and bring his rifle into shooting position.
O’Leary landed beside him, and the 270-degree view in his display showed that she did so with more agility than he’d managed. His initial shots were better, though, knocking the enemy on the right-hand side backward with two successive triple-bursts of bullets to the chest. Wasp had selected energy, and while the alien’s armor dissipated it, whatever feedback or spillover made it through the suit caused it to stand upright in what looked like pain. Jax shifted his aim and put three rounds through its head, dropping it. O’Leary strode toward the one he’d first downed, repeatedly blasting it with energy. She knelt to bind it as the rest of his team entered the passageway behind them, and he climbed to his feet.
“Okay. We have another section of corridor on the other side of that bulkhead door,” he pointed at the barrier ahead, “and then we should be at the bridge. Books, go set the charges.” They blasted through and dropped a trio of enemies with synchronized fire. The captain of Team One, Hugo Frangilo, reported over the comm that engineering was secure moments before they reached the hatch blocking the way to their objective. Jax growled softly at not having been the first unit to accomplish their goal, then pushed the concern away.
He considered essentially knocking and asking the enemy to surrender, although in a more technologically involved manner. But with what they knew about the enemy’s mindset, he’d be giving up a strategic advantage for nothing, since his enemies weren’t likely to accept. Instead, he waited while Books wired the door, then took the forward position as she blew it inward.
