by Jan Domagala
The captain walked over to ops, placed a steadying hand on the young man’s shoulder and as he read the findings from the sensors said, “Don’t worry son, as soon as the last fighter is clear bring the shields back up,” his voice calm and steady.
The young officer glanced up at the tall man standing at his shoulder and said, “The primaries are down, sir. The generators were hit by that last strike. I’m reading nothing at all from them and only nominal power output from the secondaries.”
“It’ll have to do,” the captain said.
“But I don’t know how long they’ll hold or how much they can take, sir,” ops said.
“It’ll have to do, son,” he repeated. He then turned to Wilde and said, “With respect, sir, we have to leave the battle zone to effect repairs. We have obtained our objective of a pre-emptive strike against the Confederation and we have inflicted huge amounts of damage to their infrastructure, we’ve damaged their capability to retaliate and inflicted large numbers of casualties. If we remain here too long we run the risk of allowing them the time to mount a counter attack. Already they have sent two cruisers against us, they have reinforced their fighter squadron and more ground troops are on their way. Our numbers are finite. We are only one ship against an entire fleet, which, if given enough time, they could deploy against us. We must not give them that time, we must fall back now.”
Wilde looked at him and as much as he hated to admit it, the man made sense and a smile played along his lips.
“Sir?” the captain asked, misinterpreting his reaction.
“Don’t worry Captain, I’ve not gone mad, I was just thinking how glad I was that my decision to give you this command was the correct one,” Wilde replied further confusing the captain.
“I agree, Captain,” Wilde said laying his fears to rest. Wilde made contact with Rygar; “We have reinforcements heading your way in less than eight minutes. Find Sinclair and my daughter and bring them back with you. The clock is ticking Rygar, so make it fast.”
“COME ON, WE HAVE TO move,” Hawk said, trying to rally the group looking to him for support. The last thing he wanted was for them to realise just how hopeless he thought their plight was, it would demoralise them to the point where they just wouldn’t be able to function and therefore carry on.
“What’s your plan, Matt?” De Boer asked.
“I think the only way to go is one floor at a time. Try to get to the next floor without being spotted. If I can find a safe place to hide while they come looking we may be able to get behind them and escape.”
“What if they clear every room as they go, you know, toss in a grenade then shoot anything that still moves after?”
“Then we’re in trouble, we may be able to get past a small group by taking them out first, but to do that without the rest hearing and coming after us will be tricky”
“Almost impossible,” De Boer agreed.
“We have to try though. We’ve gotta get out of here and take this fight to them,” Hawk said.
“I’m with you on that score,” De Boer said with a predatory grin.
“Okay people, line up in the formation and let’s go,” Hawk said as he led them towards the entrance of the exit tunnel.
As the doorway opened Hawk went through first, signalling to the rest to wait behind and be quiet. Holding his Sig at arm’s length in the classic two-handed grip he carefully, and as silently as he could, ventured a few feet into the exit tunnel; it was more of a stairway really. It was well lit by lights embedded in the low ceiling and along the walls at regular intervals.
Straining his ears to pick up any sound, he didn’t have to wait long. Two floors above him he heard the clamour of boots pounding down the stairway. He tried to count the footfalls, but the echoes coming from inside the stairwell hampered his hearing. He estimated the group to be around eight or ten men, obviously heavily armed. They disappeared through the doorway to the floor above. Waiting with his back pressed against the wall so he could be hidden by the shadows, he realised, once the last hostile had passed through the doorway, that he’d been holding his breath. Releasing it slowly he signalled to the group to come close.
“They’ve entered the floor above. Now we have a chance to get past them but we have to move quickly and, above all, quietly. If they get wind of us they’ll attack us with all they’ve got and call for reinforcements. Is that clear?” Hawk said keeping his voice low yet powerful enough to convey his message.
His answer was a nod of heads from all around the group.
“Okay follow me, be quiet but be swift,” Hawk said and he led them up the stairway.
Quickly and quietly the group made their way up the plascrete stairs. Hawk stayed in front of the group, keeping an eye on their progress and urging them on whilst willing them not to make a sound. His other eye was fixed on the doorway he’d seen the hostiles go through.
Slowly they approached the doorway. Any second he expected to see the squad of hostiles emerge before they had a chance to get past.
When they finally reached the level with the doorway facing them, Hawk kept his Sig trained on the doorway as he ushered the group to go past him, his full concentration focused laser-like on the exit.
Time seemed to stand still for Hawk as the group filed past behind him. His senses were on hyper alert as he strained to hear anything from the other side of the doorway facing him but there was nothing. No sounds, no vibrations, so no indications of what was happening on that floor which only made the tension and suspense more acute.
Finally, the last person, one of the marines, came past him tapping him on the shoulder to say he could follow on.
Still keeping his pistol trained on the doorway Hawk backed up the stairs after the rest of the group.
He’d told the group to enter the level above where the hostiles were until the said hostiles had moved down one more level, at which time the group could carry on up to the surface, one level at a time, and hopefully to safety.
Although the tension was almost unbearable Hawk still had doubts, thinking that they were getting away too easily.
“This is just too easy,” he said softly to himself as he quickly glanced up to see how the group was progressing.
Almost half of them had entered the level above. Just a few more seconds and they would be safe.
A sound alerted him to something happening, something very wrong. The doorway to the level they had just passed was opening.
“OKAY HOLD ON HERE, they’ll try to get past us. As soon as they’ve gone up the tunnel to the next level, we’ll have them trapped,” Rygar said as he halted half of his team. He was reading the life signs on his palm pad. Rather than chase the group down he’d chosen instead to allow them to come to him and trap them between the two halves of his team.
Patiently he waited just inside the doorway as he watched the readings on his palm pad go up the exit tunnel, towards the next level. Just as they were almost all inside the doorway Rygar made his move.
“Right, let’s go, let’s do this right and do this fast,” Rygar said as he led them back out into the tunnel.
MOTIONING FOR THE GROUP to move faster, Hawk turned his full attention to the doorway below. Keying his com. bug he said, “General Sinclair and Colonel De Boer we’re about to have some company, get ready.”
As soon as Rygar came through the door Hawk opened fire with his Sig firing two shots. The first pulsed plasma bolt struck Rygar a glancing blow high on his left shoulder sending him spinning away from the second bolt that struck the wall behind him where his head had been seconds before.
Another figure appeared through the doorway and Hawk’s aim improved. Firing a two shot burst, both bolts struck the clone dead centre in his chest sending him backwards down the stairway in a mist of blood. Even the battle gear they were wearing was unable to stop a full power blast at such close range.
Rygar fought through the pain from his shoulder wound to fire back at his attacker, although his aim was severely impair
ed. His shots went wide of their mark impacting instead on the exit tunnel stairway walls.
Hawk had to dodge to the left as Rygar’s shots struck the wall to his right. He fired again, another two shot burst at another emerging figure but because of his movement only one of the bolts struck the target. Luckily for him the bolt hit the clone in the middle of the clavicle, blasting through his throat and almost severing his head in a savage spurt of blood.
“Move, move,” Hawk screamed at the group behind him although the addition of gunfire had spurred them on to virtually fly up the stairs.
Backing up the stairs and firing at anything that came through the doorway whilst trying not to get hit took all of Hawk’s concentration.
Plasma bolts singed the air around him, fired by the wounded man who had been the first to emerge at that level. It would only be a matter of time before his wild shots found their mark and his struggle would be over.
A gunshot from over his shoulder startled him until he heard a familiar voice in his ear bug.
“Just a few more feet Matt, hurry, we’ll hold them off ’til you get here,” Colonel De Boer said, firing his Remm Mk III assault rifle again in a short, controlled burst. The plasma bolts struck another Rover5 as he tried to gain ground on the fleeing form of Hawk. The bolts struck the Rover5 high on his chest stitching a path up from his sternum through his throat and finally destroying the head in a haze of blood and gore.
Hawk saw his chance now that he had backup and he turned and sprinted up the final few plascrete stairs, his arms and legs pumping as he raced ahead of imminent death.
Once through the door he was followed closely by the Colonel, who asked, “What now, Matt?”
“We’ll have to reach another exit tunnel entrance on this level, and fast,” Hawk replied, his voice stern and full of purpose.
Just as they were getting ready to move, a doorway facing them in the corridor ahead opened, and out rushed three clones all dressed the same, full battle gear with Remm Mk III assault rifles aimed at them.
“Oh shit!” exclaimed one of the marines close to the front of the group.
“Freeze, don’t move,” one of the clones ordered.
Another door opened and then another followed by yet more doors, clones pouring out of each one. Before long they were faced with what seemed an impenetrable wall of man plus firepower.
From the doorway Hawk came through the group to stand next to Tanya who asked in a very scared voice, “What do we do now?”
Looking at what stood before them and knowing what was coming up behind them he replied, “I’m working on it.”
22
Wilde was pacing the bridge of the Nemesis like a caged tiger, waiting for some word from his troops down on the planet when ops said, “Sir, we have two hyperspace windows opening nearby.”
Spinning around he glared at the man and said, “Tell me.”
Swallowing hard, ops said, “We have two more cruisers, sir, they’re charging their weapons and locking on to us.”
Thinking rapidly, Wilde came up with a solution and contacted Rygar down on Earth. “We’ve run out of time, we’re under attack by four cruisers and fighters, we have to leave in the next few minutes if we want to survive. Tell me you have Sinclair and my daughter alive,” he said through the com. channel via his NI.
“We do, sir,” Rygar replied just as he was about to give the order to kill them all.
“Good, leave now, no questions. Drop everything and bring Sinclair and Tanya here now, you have less than five minutes,” Wilde said urgently.
“What about the others, sir?” Rygar asked, halting the clones firing.
“No time, leave them. Just make sure Tanya and Sinclair are alive, now get moving man or we are all dead,” Wilde almost screamed at him.
Rygar didn’t know how bad things had got on the Nemesis, but now he had some idea from Wilde’s words and tone. He was normally cold, efficient and unflappable, so things must be bad.
Wilde turned back to ops and said, “My daughter’s NI is coded to pass through our shields so keep them up and keep our weapons tracking those cruisers, stall them for as long as possible. As soon as Rygar gets aboard, jump to our secondary base.”
“Aye, sir, but I’m not sure how long the secondary shields will hold out,” ops replied.
“We have triple hull plating, if that gets breached close off the entire section. I’m not leaving until Sinclair is on board.”
“Aye, sir.”
RYGAR SINGLED OUT TANYA Wilde and he knew Sinclair from his time with the Black Knights. Under the threat of certain death from so much firepower, Hawk had lowered his Sig and had urged the rest to do the same. A gunfight inside a confined space against overwhelming odds like that was just plain suicide and Hawk had opted to stay alive, for while life remains, hope endures.
When Rygar grabbed Tanya and went to pull her from the group, Hawk reacted instinctively. He grabbed Rygar’s hand in a vice-like grip and twisted it from her arm then punched him full in the face with a straight left that caught him off guard and put him on his back.
Before Hawk could do anything else there were three clones battering him in the back, ribs and head with the stocks of their assault rifles.
Under such a barrage of blows not even someone as powerfully built as Hawk could cope and he went down, vainly trying to cover up. Once he was on the floor the three clones continued to kick him.
Rygar got to his knees, spat out a wad of blood red spittle that contained a few broken teeth, then stood up. With a wave of his hand he called off his dogs and said, “You must be the hero, coming to the rescue.”
Hawk looked up at him through pain-filled eyes and his cold stare spoke volumes. Rygar understood that look, had seen it many times from many men. It meant he was a dead man, yet there he stood, alive. This time would be no different he supposed.
“Well, if you’re the hero that makes me the bad guy, but in this version the bad guy wins,” he said with a smirk. Turning to his men he said, “Bring her, him,” indicating Sinclair, “and bring him too,” pointing to Hawk who was being manhandled off the floor by two burly clones. “I’ve not finished with him yet. The rest leave behind, we have to leave now, no time for fun, that’ll come later,” he finished then led the way to the door.
“You two stay with them and make sure they stay here. Give us thirty seconds then follow on, seal the door after you to make sure they don’t follow,” Rygar said to two clones standing by the door.
De Boer stood powerless to help the three friends being taken by Rygar and inside he raged with pent up frustration and fury.
A glance from Sinclair told him not to attempt anything for fear it may cost the lives of those innocents present and it was all the Colonel could do to comply.
Rygar led the way, sprinting up the stairs with his men behind. Hawk was being closely watched even though they had all been stripped of their weapons. Rygar had contacted the team that had taken out Ops Centre and ordered them to rendezvous with him and the rest at the drop site where they would hitch a ride back to Nemesis.
Hawk had a few cuts on his face, one above his right eye and on his left cheekbone, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, his ribs were bruised from the rifle butt blows and from several kicks and his back was sore, but apart from that he considered himself to be in pretty good shape considering what could have happened.
What to do about their present situation, now that was the problem? Unfortunately it was a problem he couldn’t resolve at that moment. The situation he was in may have its advantages he realised, once he knew he was to accompany them and not be put to death by the man in charge. Clearly he was not a clone and Hawk wondered if he was the one who had led the attack on the shuttle and even further back, on the compound? If he was the one then both of them would view this similarly and have scores to settle with the other. The merc would want to get even for Hawk continuing to escape and on the other side Hawk would want revenge for the deaths the other
man was responsible for in their first encounter. Again, unfortunately, the other seemed to have the upper hand so Hawk would have to wait patiently for the moment to come when he could reverse that trend.
As they reached the surface, the first of the two Hurricane C230 troop carriers from Fort Bragg was approaching. The C230 from the Nemesis was already on the ground having landed after getting the call from Rygar to come back for the evac.
Recon Delta marines in full battle gear began to rappel down to the ground from the C230 sent from Fort Bragg. Before any could even reach the ground though, Rygar had organised his clones to fire on them with some success. Two groups of five Rover5s stood on either side of Rygar’s team and fired on the marines as they approached the ground. Rygar led the rest of his group including his captured prisoners towards the C230 on the ground which had already started to warm up her engines in preparation for a rapid take off.
The pilot of the first C230, who was hovering so that his cargo of marines could debark, saw the Rover5s firing on the defenceless men on the rappelling lines and knew that if he didn’t take action he would lose all of them. Quickly he brought his craft’s pulse cannons to bear on the men shooting at the marines and fired. The pulsed plasma bolts struck the ground in a line leading to their target, breaking up the plascrete until it reached the five Rover5s to Rygar’s left.
Bodies were blasted to bits by the cannon fire in a shower of blood and gore. With them dispatched, the pilot trained his cannons on the other group firing on the marines. He made short work of them too having found the range, destroying them with a hail of pulsed plasma that sent them flying like their comrades.
As soon as the resistance had ceased the marines began to hurtle to the ground in ever increasing numbers.
