22.10.2173 A.C.E.
UNS KATANA
SABER CLASS
DESTROYER
OMICRON LYRAE SYSTEM
OMICRON SECTOR – UNSC
They called
it gliding. In the same way a glider would use the wind to carry itself,
Captain Benjamin Kale was using the variety of gravity wells in the Omicron
Lyrae system to weave and dodge his way to the other side. This was more for
pleasure than practicality; the Katana
had plenty of hydrogen to fuel its patrol; her dual core reactor could thrust
them across the system in less than two weeks. But after being on the frontier
for so long, Kale though his crew would enjoy a more leisurely pace, a chance
to reconnect with the beauty of space that was all too often forgotten under
the burden of work.
Kale sat in
the command chair, leaning his upper body on his left arm, his eyes fixed on
the main screen ahead of him. The dim light on the bridge allowed the illusion
that they were all just floating in space, hovering above the planet OL4, the
next turn in their glide. The green tint to the space in the Omicron Lyrae
sector was like a field of emeralds broken only by the 5 spherical rocks of the
planets that orbited the system’s star. He shifted his gaze for a moment and
surveyed the bridge. The uniforms and flight suits of the crew blended with
their dark background, their faces seemed to glow with what light there was
from their consoles. Sitting in front of him, two meters away and down, were
Lieutenants Alexis Feng and Jack Carter. The two were the ship’s yin and yang; their
off duty banter was often more entertaining than the newest holofilms on the
market.
Feng always had her dark hair cut just
three centimeters below her ears, a sign of her detail-oriented personality.
Her thin fingers danced on her console as she gestured windows on diagnostics
from one side to the other, comparing and correlating. As tactical officer, she
could always be relied on to be devastatingly accurate when placing rounds on
target. Although still in her early 20s, she was already on commands watch list,
in no small part due to her performance during the Battle of Epsilon 2-3. Kale
never asked what drove her to be so ice cold and analytical, but he liked her
that way. He would give her a problem and she would make it disappear, often
with an explosion, without complaint or question.
However, the man to her right didn’t seem
to appreciate those qualities like Kale did. Carter was like most pilots in the
fleet, loud and tiresome. It took a lot of energy and focus to fly a craft the
size of an old world skyscraper through debris of disabled ships during battle,
dodging hostile fire and the equally deadly wreckage. So when those talents
were not put to use, like on a patrol of an outer systems, that energy and
focus got diverted to other endeavors. For Carter, it was trying to get a rise
out of the “ice queen” of the bridge. It was never a good idea to make an enemy
of the tactical officer, but for Carter it just added to the challenge. His
hair was the color of straw, and his face was full of short stubbly golden
hairs he likely wouldn’t shave off until someone reminded him of regulations. Kale
thought he heard him humming a tune as he arced the controls on a path to enter
OL4’s gravity.
“Beginning our next turn, Captain, we’ll
be in OL4’s gravity in 2 minutes.” The cool baritone voice from behind him was
Lt. Commander Raymond Banks, the Katana’s
navigator and science officer. He was at a long holotouch table that was just
behind the command chair, flanked by two rows of consoles for sensors and
astrometrics, with Chiefs and Ensigns at each control. Banks was circling the
table, glowing blue and displaying holographic images of OL4 and Katana’s projected flight path. Waving
his hands apart the image zoomed out to show his plan for Katana to bounce off of OL4 on a diagonal approach for OL3.2, the
second moon of OL3. Banks’ dark skin contrasted well with his dark gray
uniform, with his hair shaved just above his scalp. His eyes however were light,
a hazel that brought comfort when paired with a kind word from him. He
considered himself an artist of space and time, his canvass the galaxy, his
paint the planets, stars, other spatial anomalies, and his brush, Katana. Banks was a new member of the
command crew, having been recommended by Admiral Zemetis. A veteran of many
ships, but unproven under combat conditions, this being his first assignment on
a vessel of war. Banks originally had trouble integrating into the crew; yet
after three months on patrol in the Omicron Sector he was starting to find his
stride. His recent exploit of navigating an uncharted asteroid belt to rescue a
damaged dropship earned him respect amongst the marines onboard.
Kale could feel his ship roll into its
turn. The coarse gray metal of the hull, with a design that was nothing close
to aerodynamic, was built for a menacing purpose. Yet in a moment like this, Katana felt like a graceful dancer
amongst the stars.
A chime rang out. Sigma, the ship’s
Artificial Intelligence sprang to photonic life on the holotouch table.
“Captain, I’ve detected an object on the
far side of OL4, it appears to be in the way of Lt. Commander Banks’ exit
trajectory.” It was common for shipboard A.I.s to construct their avatar. Sigma
felt it fitting to display himself as a Japanese blacksmith. The miniature
figure in a simple workers kimono now gestured to a new blinking waypoint on
the other side of OL4. Kale stood and joined Banks at the table, leaning on its
edge.
“Can we identify it, Sigma?” Kale
responded coolly
“Not at the moment Captain, the
electromagnetic field from OL4 is limiting our sensor abilities.”
“Shall I make corrections to our course
sir?” Banks asked.
Kale thought for a moment, his ice blue
eyes danced over the data streaming on the table, this object could just as
likely be space junk as something to investigate. “No, we might as well take a
closer look, run up an alternative exit; we’ll use thrusters if needed.” Kale
replied.
He tapped open a communication channel on
the table.
“Engineering, Con., spin up the reactor
to full and prepare propulsion systems.”
“Aye aye Captain, reactor at 10% and
rising!” Lt. Commander Shrini Sing, Katana’s
chief engineer, replied enthusiastically. It was finally time for some real
work down in the bowels of the ship.
Another tap of the com. console and Kale
was talking ship wide “Commander Rand to the bridge.” Katana’s EXO, Commander Samantha Rand, was going to start her watch
soon anyways, and might as well bring her up for this. Moments later a groggy
voice replied “On my way.”
Ten minutes later the doors to the bridge
parted and Rand strode in. Her light blonde hair pulled back in a simple
ponytail elaborating the features of a woman who had aged more than her years
and yet maintained a natural beauty that she seemed to ignore. The piercing of
her gray eyes had always commanded more fear than affection. She approached
Kale and Banks, still at the table facing each other.
“Sir.” She smartly announced her
presence.
“Sorry to drag you out of bed Commander,”
Kale’s eyes still on the holo-images in front of him “Sigma, you have something
for us yet?”
“Yes Captain, it appears to be a vessel,
we’re detecting a hollow alloy structure, but I have no record of its design in
our database. My analysis of the craft suggests that it reflects similarities
to an older design, perhaps even related to the late 20th and early
21st centuries, before the unification wars.”
Sigma paused to shift the holo-images to
the location of the object and magnified the area to show a model of the
unknown ship. Its cylindrical design was certainly not used in any modern Terran
crafts nor familiar to anything he’d seen flying, but it did remind Kale of the
Apollo rockets and the International Space Station, ancient vessel of early
spaceflight. This craft, however, was much larger than those; almost three
times the size of Katana.
“It is in a low orbit above the planet
and it seems to be running on very little power; energy and thermal readings
show little activity.” Sigma continued.
“Life signs?” Asked Rand.
“None detected at the moment Commander, the
EM field from OL4 is limiting our sensor capabilities. Additionally, I cannot scan
the ship past 4 meters of the hull.”
“Time until we intercept the craft.”
Kale’s gruff voice made his question sound more like a statement.
“Weapons range…now.” Feng’s voice carried
over from her consol.
“Match orbit, maintain current distance.”
“Aye Captain, following the giant space
cylinder.” Replied Carter as he made some slight adjustments.
Kale straightened himself with a small
stretch of his back and began walking slowly back to the main screen. The
craft’s white exterior was pocked with carbon scoring perhaps from combat or perhaps
from the wear and tear of a long time in orbit without maintenance. Kale stood
silent for a moment; if this was an insurrectionist craft it was nothing like
anything he encountered before. But if it was, what was it doing here? The
insurrection was in the business of breaking planets and space stations away
from the UN, yet this system was completely uninhabited, the solar radiation
too severe to sustain a permanent colony.
He snapped back to reality, realizing a
few eyes were on him waiting for the next move.
“Hail.” he said at a low volume.
“Channel open Captain.” Sigma complied.
“This is the UNS Katana to the craft currently in orbit around the forth planet
of this star. This system is under the control of the United Nations Space
Command. The purpose of your presence here and your identity are unknown.
Identify yourself immediately or we will consider your craft a threat.” his
tone was that of a subdued professional delivering and ultimatum, nothing
grandiose.
“Energy spike! It just sent a beam
transmission to the planet!” Called out Banks from behind him.
“General quarters.” Kale replied with a
hint of frustration as he folded his arms.
The bridge was lit with red lights and
the tone of the alarm began its 20-second blare from the corridor.
“Contacts! Incoming projectiles. Missiles
on an intercept course.” Feng’s voice was eerily calm and clear.
“Carter.”
“Aye Captain, evasive maneuvers! Pattern
Omega-7!” Carter’s voice had a hint of glee.
Katana’s engines
roared to life, bringing her is to a series of rolls and turns that sent the
mosquito like missiles dancing and whirling around. Dozens of small flashes of
light emerge from Katana’s rear and
sides as the can-sized counter-measures began flying into the missiles,
detonating them. Precision shots from Katana’s
rail canons took care of those missiles that avoided the counter measures. A
flurry of chaos for 10 minutes.
“Report!” Rand called out stepping next
to Kale.
“No damage. Missiles didn’t come from the
craft, source unknown ma’am, running trajectory analysis.” Feng answered.
Rand turned to Kale, in a whisper. “It
may not have come from that unknown but it sure as hell isn’t innocent. I think
we’re dealing with a hostile. Maybe a new type of insurrectionist ship with
support nearby.”
“Agreed, but I’m not ready to call in the
cavalry just yet. I think we can take it. Let’s knock on the door and see
what’s inside.” Kale turned his head with a small grin on his worn face. Rand
grinned back knowing his statement was the closest thing he had to humor. She
walked back to the holotable and tapped open a com. line.
“Harris, Con., prepare for boarding
action. Two detachments. Unknown hostile faction, unknown opposition force,
unknown environmental. Ready up, Captain wants it ours in 20.”
Hoots and cheers were heard in the
background with the reply of the marine commander, Captain Beth Harris, “Aye
aye Commander! Deploying in 2 mikes!” Frontier leathernecks always got restless
on patrols like these. No doubt many of the veterans would be glad to be
getting back into practice.
“Mr. Carter, move us into a parallel
orbit to provide fire support for the marines.”
“With pleasure sir.” Carter then turned
to Feng with a boyish smirk. “As soon as I get the strike plan from our lovely,
yet deadly, lady of the helm.” He said just loud enough for Fang to hear. She
shot him an annoyed glance and waved the strike package window she’d been
working on from her console towards Carter’s, sending it to his.
“Why thank you Ms. Feng!” Carter smiled
and joyfully went back to his controls.
Hulks of
olive and black metal heaped together in the back of dropship S117. The
stillness of the marines gave the impression that their armored suits where
just that, inanimate shells. Despite their lack of movement, these moments
before the doors opened always had the most activity. On the Heads Up Display
on her visor, Captain Harris of the UNMC was sharing the tactical data Sigma
had compiled on the vessel. It seemed to lack the detail she had come to expect
of Sigma, but that wasn’t his fault. The unknown appeared to have a secondary
hull on the largest section of the main cylinder blocking sensors, unheard of
on a civilian craft. Which in a way it was, Feng had confirmed her earlier
report; not only did the missiles not come from the craft, but the craft had no
defensive weapons at all. This was critical mission data, but not something
Harris focused on, she knew all too well how even a civilian vessel can have an
army of opposition inside; her thoughts soon drew to the entry at hand. Kilo
Company’s top platoons Kilo 1-0 and Kilo 3-0 had been slated for the mission,
with Kilo 2-0 on QRF, if she was going in blind she wanted overwhelming force.
Vibrations
began to rock the boat as the engines accelerated and decelerated; Feng was
likely picking off more missiles bound for the two dropships. A red light
filled the compartment. Harris stood up and gestured her boys and girls to do
the same. Their armor was heavy and made movement slow; for groundside combat
marines preferred their lighter and more flexible polysynthetic armor, not this
hull grade alloy, except for Staff Sergeant Yuri Drackoff of Kilo 3-2 who
simply enjoyed the idea of being a human tank. But for CQB like boarding a
craft, it was armor over speed; and most ship corridors she knew had no cover.
The
vibrations stopped, they were too close to the unknown craft for the missiles
to continue a barrage on the marines, now it was a turf war. The light turned
green, Harris and the others turned towards the door and raised their MAW
rifles. The two lines waited while the automated cutter outside worked its way
around the airlock door of the unknown craft. Harris opened coms. to the 2nd
dropship somewhere on the other side of the craft,
“Kilo 3-0, Kilo actual; in position on
the portside, ready to breach.”
A moment later Lt. Mondi replied “Kilo 3-0 in position, breach
on your mark.”
She turned her head to look at Kilo 1-0’s
acting commander Gunnery Sergeant Alai Hassan. He had his modified rifle pointed
at the door, “Salaam” written on the side in Arabic, part of the twisted humor
all the marines shared.
“You ready sandman?” Harris said to him,
her Scottish accent inflecting the phrase. Hassan, eyes still forward, just
gave her back a nod.
“Environment on the vessel is nominal!”
Called the pilot over coms.
“Right! All Kilo stations, breach on my
mark. 3, 2, 1, Execute!”
A small explosion on the other side and
the door of their dropship flew up and open. They rushed in two by two, rolling
their steps to keep their upper bodies and aim steady. As soon as they entered
the craft however their feet started to leave the ground. No gravity.
Harris opened
a com. to the entire assault team. “Zero-G! Magnetics!” Their boots hit the
floor; really all of it was a cylindrical wall with monitors and gadgets. As
the moved forward the strength of their magnetic in their boots crushed some of
the instruments lining the wall they used as a floor. Moving in zero gravity
was slow; the magnetic just gave the marines more options to move and fire.
Kilo 1-0 was making good time though; they reached a junction where they were
to meet up with Kilo 3-0. When Lt. Mondi and his team arrived they moved
forward again, towards the primary cylinder. With a quick pop of the hatch, the
way was open.
The marines stopped cold, staring at what
was before them. The chamber was a large expanse, about as wide as three-football
fields are long, rotating around a central pillar of lights.
Harris,
realizing her mouth was open, put it to use. “Katana, are you getting this?”
“Yes Captain
Harris, it is a primitive artificial gravity technique.” Sigma replied with his
typical serine voice.
“This explains
the secondary hull, no wonder we couldn’t scan it.” Noted Tech Sergeant Jean
DePaul.
“Indeed Sergeant
DePaul. If you establish a relay on the interior of the cylinder I can attempt
additional scans. Captain Harris, it is likely your team will experience some
disorientation upon entering the gravity of the cylinder.”
“Disorientation?
It’s a fucking carnival ride!” Called out Sgt. Ramirez
“Stow the
crying Ramirez, you and your squad get to jump first!” Hassan snapped back.
“Shit.” Ramirez
breathed. “Alright! Let’s do this 1-3!” Six bodies lined up, crouched, and
jumped, landing hard on the spinning floor. They were carried up and away from
the rest of the team. By the time the made a complete circle, the next squad
was ready and executed their jump. Six squads, including Harris and her support
staff made their jump one by one. Despite the feeling of having been through a
washing machine, the marines recovered their poise and circled up facing
outward to assess their environment. The floor of the cylinder was a patchwork
of compounds and grassland that stretched above and around them. Crops and even
some livestock could faintly be seen above them, where it seemed dedicated
primarily for agriculture, they had landed in a series of white faced and long
structures. DePaul set up a small foldable scanner on the floor. It took a few
moments to connect with Katana’s systems,
but almost instantly after the connection, Sigma chimed in over the com. link.
“No substantial biologics detected. Only domesticated animals on parts of the
cylinder’s landmasses. However, some of the structures forward of your position
appear to be shielded.”
Harris turned to her marines, “Split into
squads, we’ll consider this point true south. Kilo 1-2 and 1-3 northwest. Kilo
3-1, 3-3 northeast. 1-1 and 3-2 punch up the center with me. Stay within a two-click
radius of this point. Check-in in 5 mikes!”
A series of rogers and yes ma’ams from
her squad leaders and they were away. Her HUD kept the indicator tag of each
squad’s position even when they left her sight. Gunny Hassan took point, the
rest moving behind him in a tight delta as the moved up the central walk way
towards a greenhouse like structure. They entered as quietly as ghosts passing
through a wall. The room was full of plastic crates, but even more glass tubes,
most around the size of a person. Almost every glass shell in the room had some
manner of organic looking matter floating in a clear gel like liquid. Hassan
and the rest of 1st Platoon’s 1st squad continued down
the room into the fading light. Harris wandered around looking at each jar and
chamber in silence. Most reminded her of what she’d seen come out of wounded
marines when their armor failed and lead ripped holes into them.
“Harris, its
Banks. I want to get a better idea of what’s inside those tubes, transmit me a
sample ASAP.” No doubt the Captain, EXO, and the Nav. Officer were all watching
from Katana’s bridge. Their operation
was being recorded through her helmet camera and those of her platoon leaders.
She turned to
DePaul who was as distracted as she was a moment ago.
“Well DePaul?
You heard him, make with the techy bullshit.”
He snapped
out of it and pulled his gear to collect some samples.
“Skipper” Called Hassan over the squad com.
link. “I think you should look at this.” Harris strode down the room into a
dark hallway and came out the other side in a large storage area. Crates were
stacked on each other with all manners of symbols. Some were common enough;
biohazard, volatile, and flammable were some she noted, others were not like
anything she recognized. She found Hassan and his marines standing near an open
container about the size of two footlockers.
“Whatcha got
Gunny.” Harris approached Hassan
“Can’t say
for sure, but I think this is a crate of ammunition, except they’re not just
rounds, they have brass casing on the rear.”
“What are you
saying sandman? Like old-ass firearm ammunition? Well what are you standing
around for? Break one open and see if it’s got gunpowder.”
Sure enough,
after some brute strength, a small amount of gunpowder poured out of the brass
casing.
“This tech is
old ma’am, I don’t even think insurrectionists would be that desperate to use
ammunition like this. Even the less equipped factions still have Magnetic Acceleration
Weaponry like ours.” Hassan looked up with a small hint of nerves, something
Harris felt too. She patched in a private com. to Katana.
“Kale,
Harris. Captain, we’ve got some evidence here of some very old tech. I’ve got
spinning chambers and now firearm ammunition. I doubt it’s an insurrectionist
boat, sir.”
“Then find
out who’s it is Harris, and why they’re here.” Kale replied in a gruff voice.
“Right. Sandman,
take your boys and find me a terminal. I’ll send DePaul to slam his head into
it a while, maybe the residents left some files on a server somewhere.”
Before Harris could walk away, Hassan
grabbed her arm. “Ma’am, this place to too well maintained to not have anyone
taking care of it, we even saw crops on the far side. So where ar-” Before he
could finish, a cry over the coms.
“Kilo actual,
Kilo 1-3!” They could hear gunfire in the background as Ramirez yelled over the
com. link. “I’ve got OppFor at my position! Automated turrets and…and what
looks like a fucking robot! We’re suppressed! Requesting support!”
“Keep your
shit together 1-3, we’re on our way! Kilo 3-2, secure this compound!” Harris
replied while simultaneously signaling for Hassan and the others of 1-1 to
follow her.
The sounds of
gunfire got louder and louder as Harris and the marines of Kilo 1-1 ran toward
the waypoint where Kilo 1-3 was. They could see out of the corner of their HUDs
that Kilo 1-2’s indicator was also moving towards 1-3’s position. They rounded
the next building and found themselves 70 meters away from another greenhouse
shaped structure, except this one had six double barreled turrets out front and
a large automated tiller robot apparently retro fitted for more than just
chewing up dirt for farming, having its own sets of turrets mounted on both
sides of its camera head. 30 meters away from the building, hugging a low
decorative stonewall were five members of Kilo 1-3. Harris saw her HUD indicate
a KIA with a marker above one of her marines, whose body was still close to the
compound’s defenses. The tiller blades on the robot began to whirl and grind
into the soil as it slowly approached the marines in cover behind the wall. The
few shots from 1-3 to the front of it did nothing to slow the mechanical beast
down.
She turned to
Hassan “Robot first, flank the bugger and hit its power cells on the rear.” Hassan
nodded and singled for his team to move along the far right of the field in a
long hook maneuver. Rushing past 1-1 and up to Harris was Sergeant Kaylee
Alterman and the rest of Kilo 1-2. “Ready for fire mission ma’am!” She called
out when she was close enough.
“Stay here,
on my command frontal assault on the compound, try and draw their fire. Let’s
see how bright these toasters are.” Harris grinned and began a strafing run to
1-3’s position on the wall. Dust kicked up around from the missed rounds her as
she weaved and ducked her way to the wall.
She slid into
Ramirez, just missing some lead meant for her head.
“What the
fuck did you do Ramirez!” Harris yelled over the chaos.
“Nothing! Ma’am!
They just popped out of the ground!” Ramirez recovered his posture against the
wall, readjusting his helmet. “Takayama got wasted skipper!”
Losses were
something familiar to Harris, she would give a fuck later when the threat was
neutralized she told herself. She stole a quick glance over the wall, getting
an eye’s appraisal of the distance to targets. “Prep grenades!” calling out to
the rest of Kilo 1-3. She slumped so her back against the wall, making visual
with Alterman.
“Kilo 1-1,
Kilo actual, are you in position?” calling over the coms.
“Affirm Kilo
actual.” Hassan said in a whispered tone.
With that she made a fist and a punching
movement towards Alterman, her cue to attack. Alterman gave a wave of her hand
and the rest of her squad followed and opened fire. Supersonic pieces of lead
were now flying in both directions over the wall. Soon the fire of the robot
and turrets shifted priority towards the incoming threat of Kilo 1-2. At that
moment Hassan and the rest of Kilo 1-1 came out from behind the building and
started taking shots at the robot’s back. A few seconds later and the power
cell burst into a fiery explosion.
“Frag those
turrets!” Harris yelling to Ramirez and 1-3 as she pulled the pin on her own
grenade. A half dozen grenades landed on target with the half dozen turrets. A
half dozen explosions soon after made everything quite.
Harris stood
up, rifle pointed down range at the smoldering wreckage of their mechanical
opposition. Hassan also turned the corner of the compound with rifles raised
and began firing a few rounds into each turret’s control box to make sure the
job was finished. Alterman and her squad approached, they had taken a beating;
their armor was chewed up, like a beast had gnawed on the metal but couldn’t
break through. Some were scrapped up, flesh wounds. Alterman was bleeding from
her side, at a gap in her armor.
“Status Sergeant.”
Harris said with hardened professionalism. Emotions are for my mother and the army,
as the marine saying went.
“Still up,
ma’am” Alterman said fighting back a pained expression. “Doc Ren will patch us up.”
“That I
will.” The platoon’s medic from 1-1 rushed to her wounded side and began
applying the biogel that would clean, sterilize, and seal the wound until they
reached the real doctor, Commander Julio Ortega, back on Katana.
Harris took a
moment to survey her surroundings. Two of her marines from 1-3 were taking care
of the body of their fallen comrade PFC Koru Takayama. The loss of his energy
and youth would impact the demeanor of 1st Platoon, thought Harris. Ramirez
was sitting on the wall, looking defeated, perhaps blaming himself for the loss
of someone under his command, a common guilt for new squad leaders and
commanders. Hassan and others from 1-1 were investigating the remains of the
robot while 1-2 was working on securing the perimeter. Lt. Mondi’s voice came
over the team wide com. link.
“Any station,
this is 3 actual. Requesting technical support, found a series of servers at my
location.”
“3 actual,
this is Kilo 3-2. Tech Sergeant is oscar mike to your position.”
The marines
around her were regaining their composure. Hassan started moving towards Harris
with a solemn look on his scarred face.
“Don’t tell
me sandman, the killer robot is really a farmhand?”
“Yes ma’am,
but that’s not all, those turrets mounted on it, the welds are far too precise
for handwork. This bot has been retrofitted by another.” Hassan paused,
wondering if Harris got where he was going.
“And, gunny?”
“Well ma’am, it’s
just why use a factory of equipment just to retrofit one bot? If I went through
the trouble of programming new weld patterns for my factory arms, I’d weld a
whole bunch of weapons on to things. I don’t think this is the only one of
these around skipper.”
“Point taken
sandman…” Harris switched over to coms. “All Kilo stations, be advised, mechanized
foot mobiles in the AO. All available stations begin search and destroy
operations. Report contacts to Kilo actual. Actual out.”
She then
turned to Alterman and the rest of Kilo 1-2.
“That’s you
Alterman, work your way around the 2 click perimeter from true south. Ramirez,
secure the area around this compound, try not to trip on any robots again.”
Turning now to Hassan. “Let’s go see what’s so special here.”
The door and
walls were covered in miniature craters from the impact of rounds, the pristine
white exterior now blackened with burning hydraulic fluid from the wrecked
mechanical defenders. Hassan pushed a small fiber optic snake camera through a
small hole where the rounds had penetrated the door. After a few seconds he
motioned all clear and the squad with Harris entered swiftly, taking up
defensive positions on the other side of the wall. Nothing shot back. The
darkness of the room made deep space look bright. Harris and the others snapped
some chem-lights and threw them down the long chamber. The motion of the sticks
triggered the lights in the room.
On either side lining the walls were at
least three-dozen glass chambers, different from the ones found in the first
building. The biggest difference was what was inside each one. Children, all
around the ages of 6 to 10 from the looks of their features and height, all
with breathing masks, were floating in a thick liquid of green. Hassan moved
closer to one of the chambers, and then touched his hand to the glass.
“Skipper
they’re alive! I see this one’s chest moving!” Hassan yelled.
“What the
fuck is going on here…” muttered one of Hassan’s men
“I don’t know, but I know what’s happening
next.” Harris went to coms. “Katana,
this is Kilo actual; requesting medevac.”
Kale and Rand
moved together at a brisk pace down the corridor towards Katana’s med bay, continuing the conversation after turning the
corner and seeing the path vacant. Commander Rand still spoke softly, as to not
compromise the Captain’s authority if any crew were wandering around.
“We have no
idea who these kids are. For all we know they could be killers. They could have
been the ones that triggered the attack. We should have sent Ortega to them an-”
“We wouldn’t
be able to safely wake them on the groun-” Kale began.
“That’s the point
sir! Why are we waking them? I say we need to figure out who these kids are
before we wake them up. Let Banks take a crack at the data he got back from the
marines before we crack the tubes.”
Kale stopped.
“They are unknown, yes. But they’re unarmed, unconscious, and children; they
were going to end up on Katana one
way or another even if we woke them up on that craft. I’d rather have complete
control over the environment while we deal with finding out who they are…I
won’t leave Katana vulnerable, I’m
breaking protocol and placing armed marines inside
med bay.”
Rand took a
moment to think before responding. “MAWs are better than throwing Ortega’s
scalpels at them. But I’d like to prep cargo hold two as a controlled dormitory
for them. Med bay is located too close to too many vital ship systems. We wake
them up then put them down there, where we can mitigate damage if they go
hostile.”
“Do it.” Kale
replied.
Rand nodded and went off to make her
dormitory preparations.
Marines had already responded to his
security arrangements for med bay by the time he got there. Six of them were
outside checking weapons; there should be another squad inside. When they saw
Kale, they stood to attention. Kale gave them a nod and opened the sliding
doors to med bay, bracing for what he knew was coming.
“Captain! Have you lost your mind?!”
Ortega pounced on him as soon as the door opened.
He saw from the fury on her face that
Harris had taken the verbal abuse in his absence. She stood with excellent
posture in her combat armor with helmet in hand, revealing her green eyes and
neatly shorn red hair, which, if she let it grow more than three centimeters,
would likely have natural curls. Her knife strapped to the front left armored
breastplate and her MAW rifle on her back brought Kale to focus on her
deadliness. He noticed her free hand was clenched into a fist; He would have to
commend her later for not snapping the good doctor’s neck.
“This is a medical facility! Not a brig! And
these are children! Is this really necessary? That the first thing they see
when they come to is a friendly doctor and then, oh wait! A bunch of trained
killers pointing guns at their faces!” Ortega moved away from his previous
target and towards Kale.
He was shorter than most in the room, but
righteous confidence and anger in his voice made even Kale a bit intimidated.
His hair was also shorn short, brown yet closer to black, with a distinct
widow’s peak. His dark eyes surrounded by the rim of his thin glasses, which he
wore despite the ease and availability of corrective laser surgery. Kale
collected himself and jumped to respond before Commander Ortega could continue
his rant.
“Doctor, our options are limited. Either
I bring them here, under guard, or I send you and your med bay there, in a
combat zone. Captain Harris, would you brief the Doctor on conditions in the
unknown craft?”
“Sir! Two KIAs from 1st
Platoon, three from 3rd Platoon. Thirty-six EKIAs including the
seven it took to reach the children. We control sixty percent of the craft, search
and destroy operations are ongoing, sir!” Harris replied loudly in her cadence
of Scottish bravado.
“Thank you, Captain.” Kale stepped closer
to Ortega to have a more personal effect. “Commander, I’m about to deploy 5th
Platoon to support S&D operations down there. If you want this med bay
clear of marines, I can put you and these kids on that dropship too.” Kale’s
low and rough voice left a tone that had no hint of sarcasm. Even Kale
considered his offer genuine. “But there is no way we’re proceeding without
security forces present, here or there.”
Ortega looked to the side for a moment,
muttering something to himself in rapid Spanish. Then, with confidence returning,
looked Kale in the eyes again. “Very well Captain, but I expect them to stay
out of the way until a threat becomes realized.” Turning back to Harris. “You think
you can do that?”
“You won’t have any issues, sir.” Harris
glared with a hint of indignation in her voice.
Ortega began to move towards his control
station, a heavy sigh and he was back to work. He moved the open windows on the
touchtable of his log and supply reports to open a new diagnostic menu. Using
the connections he had to one of the tubes, he pulled up the readings on one of
the children, a male labeled John Doe 1. Ortega took a glance at Kale.
“We finally
arranged a program in order to interface with the stasis tubes. Give me a few
to get you some results.”
It
was normally easy for the med bay to accommodate thirty-eight patients, but the
glass stasis tubes with their life support components made the med bay feel
cramped. The normally bright room had several of its lights obstructed by the
height of the tubes. Kale felt it unnatural, maintaining his stress acquired from
before.
Moving everything to Katana, hooking up the tubes to a power supply, and interfacing
with their management program had taken several hours, time Kale had spent on
edge watching from the bridge. The hardest to watch was the evacuation action
the marines took to get the children out of there; how the mechanized defenders
on the unknown craft pursued them all the way to the airlock and how the
machines destroyed seven children. The marines had fought hard, but couldn’t
get out the seven in time before the compound where they were held was overrun.
Seven lives, not simply lost, destroyed. Crushed and torched, like someone was
destroying the evidence. A brutal and enraging scene to watch, even for the
veterans within Kilo Company. The machines had no thought, no quam, about the
destruction of sleeping innocence; in some way it was a sinister advantage. But
this led Kale, Rand, and Banks to the conclusion that there must be some master
at the controls, someone with a design, it was clear the machines had shifted
their priorities. So who, Kale wondered, had given the directive? He had some
hope that these children may be able to shed some light.
“Right, time to crack the case.” Ortega’s
voice brought the room back into action. Several nurses prepped tools and
blankets. Ortega set some parameters and then walked away from his controls,
letting his program begin the extraction process. He walked towards the tube
closest to the controls, the liquid already draining around the young male
occupant, John Doe 1. The marines in the room widened their stance, preparing
for the worse, while Harris put her helmet on a nearby table and turned to face
the tube with her hand on her holstered pistol, like an American old west
heroine ready for a standoff at high noon. A hissing sound indicated the
equalization of air pressure, and a moment later half the glass lifted upwards
to reveal the young man. Ortega stepped closer as the subject began to twitch
to life.
“Give him a moment to adjust to the
environment.” He turned to Harris. “He may go into shock.” Harris nodded but
didn’t change her stance.
The boy’s eyes flickered opened, then
shot wide. He began breathing heavily and backed up at the walls of his tube
arms spread as if bracing himself. Ortega rushed to hold him. “Shh shh its ok,
relax son you’re safe.” He helped the boy peal off his breathing mask. The boy
seemed to not take to Ortega’s words, but his touch had to have steadied him a
bit as he relaxed his muscles and slumped down to the bottom of the tube.
“Nurse!” Ortega gestured for one of the
nurses waiting to hand him a blanket, he took it and wrapped it as much as he
could around the child. Harris looked a bit unsure, but she still gave a soft wave
downwards with a flat palm, her marines took a more relaxed stance, but none
looked away. The doctor took a few vital signs and, once satisfied, began to
address the boy’s mental condition.
“Alright son you’re fine, you’re safe. No
need to worry yourself. My name is Doctor Ortega; you’re on board a ship called
Katana. Can you tell me what date it
is?”
The fear in the boy’s eye’s vanished,
instead replaced by a look of wonder and confusion. He began opening his mouth,
closing it, and opening again as a pained expression began to form, as if he
was straining to use something he didn’t even know existed.
“Don’t push yourself son, let’s take it
one step at a time.” Ortega had to put his hand on the boys mouth to get him to
stop opening and closing it. “Where is your home?” a minutes pause with no
answer, only blank stares. “Can you understand me?” another minute passes with
no reply, only the same pained curiosity on the boy’s face.
Ortega snapped his fingers and pointed at
a table behind him with more instruments. A nurse jumped into action and
delivered the tray of tools to him. Ortega started with the ears, a mumble of
frustration later he took a firm grip on the boys jaw and gently forced it
open, snaking a fiber optic not much larger than a needle thick down his
throat. The doctor played with his tool furiously while staring at a handheld
monitor with images of the boy’s innards. He brought the monitor closer to his
face and with his knuckle lifted his glasses off his eyes and brought the
monitor close enough to be in natural focus. Never before had Kale witness an
expression of shock grow so slowly on someone’s face. Ortega looked at Kale for
a moment, the shock still there, then stood up and gestured Kale away to a
corner for a private talk.
“What’s wrong with him doctor?” Kale
began.
“His hearing is fine sir, but his vocal
cords look as if they’ve never been used, I don’t think the boy has made a
sound in his life, but there appears to be nothing wrong with him, physically
speaking.” Ortega crossed his arms. “ I can’t possibly claim to know all the
answers yet; but seeing the boy’s reaction to the world, and his vocal cords
like new…Captain I’d bet this child has never been outside of his tube.”
“If that’s so then was he asleep his
whole life too?”
“I’d say yes, at this point, the tubes
aren’t designed to sustain life outside of stasis. You’re in the tube, you’re
knocked out, comatose.”
Kale took a moment to think.
“Alright doctor, wake them all up and
move them to the temporary barracks we set up for-“
The alarm blared to life cutting Kale
short. The room went a flash of red for a moment then red lights lined the
walls as the color faded away. Kale’s personal com. went online.
“Kale, Rand, Captain we’ve got incoming
unknowns approaching from the planets surface, you need to see this, sir.”
Rand’s voice had tenseness in it he rarely heard from her. Kale made eye
contact with Harris and gave her a nod of his head towards the door. She began
walking to meet him.
“Doctor, get these kids out and to the
temp barracks!" Kale gave a quick order before he paired up with Harris
and strode out with purpose through the door.
Kale and
Harris entered with no ceremony; all the crewmembers were furiously tracking
targets and calling out new trajectories. Rand looked up from the holotable and
escorted Kale to the display.
“Sir, we
picked up openings in the electromagnetic field of the planet, next thing we
know we got these things breaking atmosphere and moving to intercept.”
The display
showed Katana’s orbit and course
around OL4 with dozens of winking lights moving slowly towards her. Kale tapped
in a few commands and zoomed in on the winking lights bringing up real-time
images. It was a pintsized fleet, if he could call it that, a mixture of sizes
but none of them were more than a quarter the size of Katana. He’d never seen their design before, he fathomed that it
would be impossible for any human to be on board. Each craft was a mélange of
hulls, different materials and various colors of gray, gunmetal, and white.
Most were in the rough shape of a bullet turned backwards, the pointed end
housing the thrusters. He noticed holes and gaps in most of them, leading Kale
to his conclusion that there was no centralized life support in each one.
“How many?”
Kale looked up at Rand.
“We’ve got
thirty-four on an intercept so far, but more keep coming. Eleven of the big
suckers and the rest escorts varying sizes. We’ve also picked up four heading
towards the unknown craft.”
“Harris.”
Kale looked down in frustration, if this was an attack, all of those marines were
likely moments away from being wiped out; Katana
was too far out to defend the unknown craft.
“On it sir.”
Harris, still confidant, switched to coms. “Kilo 3-0, Kilo actual. Several
unknowns are inbound, that boat you’re on is their target. Get everyone to the
dropships and get out of there, how copy?”
“Roger!
Exfiltrating to dropships!” Lieutenant Mondi replied.
Kale looked
at Rand and Banks. “Where does that leave us?”
“Sir, we
can’t treat these crafts as unknowns. After the events on the 1st
craft, we’ve got to assume this is an armed response.” Rand straightened her
stance and folded her arms.
“Banks?”
The entire
combat experience was still an adjustment for him; Banks cleared his throat and
collected himself.
“I agree sir, I’ve discovered that these
crafts are sending and receiving beam transmissions to and from the planet’s
surface, like the one that the unknown craft sent as soon as we hailed it. My
guess is that these are more like automated drones than ships, and those beam
transmissions are orders.” Banks pulled up a recording of the drones from a few
moments earlier. “Notice here how they changed course as soon as they received
the beam transmissions? Its almost instantaneous.”
“Noted. Looks
like we’ve got to take a walk planet side to get some answers. Lets meet up
with the marines and go for low orbit, we’ll play defense against these drones
there, Katana will have the advantage
with OL4’s gravity.” Kale said with authority, confident in his plan.
“Uhh Captain,
we may not have time for that…” Carter called out from his console, a proximity
warning flashing on the display. “They just accelerated! They’re going for
laser targeted lock!”
“Look!” Rand
pointed, leaning closer on the holotable. “They’re positioning themselves in
between us and the unknown craft, they’re trying to cut us off from the marine
dropships!”
“Then we’ll
play a different game!” Harris angrily hit the coms. on the table. “Kilo 3-0,
Kilo actual, path to Katana is
cutoff, drop planet-side, coordinates to follow.” Before 3-0 could respond she had
switched over to internal coms. “Kilo 5-0, Kilo actual, prepare to drop, I’m on
my way!” Harris started towards the door, her helmet about to be placed on her
head.
“Where the
hell do you think you’re going marine!” Rand snapped.
Harris turned with fury in her eyes, but a cool professional
tone.
“Groundside,
ma’am. There’s no way I’m leaving my team isolated down there.” She seemed
ready to fight off anyone who tried to stop her from reaching the dropships.
The moment of
silence was broken by Kale walking towards Harris.
“Harris, lets
be clear, we won’t be able to support Kilo Company down there, we have no idea
what you’ll be up against.”
“So you’d
prefer to order them to take their chances with running that blockade, sir? For
what? So we can all go down with Katana?
With respect sir, no fucking way. We’re ground fighters, you and your Navy deal
with the floaters.” Harris was about to clear a path through them to the
landing bay; each moment wasted here was a moment where she could be getting
closer to her team.
“How do you
intend to do this Captain?” Kale narrowed his eyes. “Its just as suicidal for
you to try and punch through that blockade as it is for them.”
“Perhaps I
can assist.” Sigma appeared on the holotable, a strike plan window displayed
next to him. “With the help of Lieutenant Feng and Lieutenant Carter, of
course.”
Sigma waved the strike plan across the room;
it disappeared at the end of the table and then reappearing on Feng’s consol.
She took a moment to review it and then turned to Kale and the others.
“Sigma is purposing we go on the
offensive from this position, sir, flying right behind the dropship until we’ve
allowed them a clear path. Then execute a 90-degree thrust upward, deploying
and detonating remote mines beneath us and immediately reversing course to lead
the OppFor away. We’d be able to start evasion maneuvers and use the gravity of
OL4’s moon to help us.” Feng explained
“When did you become in favor of suicide
missions Sigma?” Carter turned his head; impressed at the daring the computer
program was showing.
“When the
situation arises Mr. Carter. 1st, 3rd, and 5th
platoons of Kilo Company will be fighting in unknown territory and without fire
and logistical support. It is desirable to deliver Kilo Company’s commander to
them rather than have her remain on board Katana.
Kilo Company is on average 31.4 percent more combat effective with Marine
Captain Harris leading them directly.” Sigma’s even tone made his analysis seem
slightly cold and callus.
“Suppose that’s
high praise coming from a light bulb.” Harris muttered to herself.
“Carter, can
you pull this off without getting us all killed?” Rand asked bluntly.
“Its not like
you’re going to get a money back guarantee from me Commander…” Carter spun his
chair to face the rest of the room, a cocky smile on his face. “…but yeah, I
can do this.”
Kale,
resigned, turned back to Harris. “Very well, if you’re going down there, at
least have an objective.” He looked over to Banks. “Do you have a location on
that transmission source?”
Banks walked
away from the table holding a data stick. “As best as I can get, the EM field
prevents me getting anything too detailed, but I have marked a few grid where
the source could be.” He handed the data stick to Harris. “Good luck
Leatherneck.” Banks said with some weight in his voice.
“Don’t need
luck, I’ve got a rifle.” She turned around and quickly walked out the door.
Kale
refocused. The winking lights were now very close to Katana. He knew that this wasn’t yet a death sentence for his crew,
but any mistakes could end it for them. To fend off this foe, to allow Harris’
dropship a window through to the planet, they would have to perform flawlessly.
To defeat this foe however, they were going to need help.
“Sigma.” Kale
spoke softly.
“Yes Captain.”
“Call in the
fleet.”
23.10.2173 A.C.E.
FLEET COMMAND
COMMUNICATION RELAY (FCCR)
DARK SPACE –
COODINATES: G4.272.106.32.245.93.188
OMICRON SECTOR –
UNSC
---
> RECEIVING TRANSMISSION /
> Sender: UNS KATANA / SABER CLASS
DESTROYER /
> Uploading /
---
---STANDBY---
---
> TRANSMISSION RECEIVED /
> RELAY TRANSMISSION / TO: UNSC-SECCOMM /
> Copy to: All Task forces / sectors: Omicron / Perseus /
---
> BEGIN TRANSMISSION /
> RELAY: UNS KATANA TO
UNSC-SECCOMM
> FROM: S.A.I. Designation
SIGMA-S343
> LOCATION: OMICRON LYRAE SYSTEM / OMICRON SECTOR
> Subject: Fleet Support Requested at OL4
> UNS Katana SITREP: Unknown Hostile Forces have engaged Katana
around planet designated Omicron LYRAE 4 / Type: Hostile Large drones / 47
Hostile crafts / more approaching from planet / One unknown / hostile
mechanized Foot mobiles on board / Electromagnetic field around planet / Hypothesis:
Drones receiving commands from unknown planet-side location / Katana to
commence evasive maneuvers / UNS KATANA Whereabouts: COURSE FOR low orbit
around OL4’s moon / STATUS: Pursued, Taking Fire / Requesting Task force
support / Cannot Hold position /
> Marine SITREP: Detachment from 5th Marine Expeditionary Force
/ 7th MARINE Division / 501st Regiment / K-COMPANY / Designation: Kilo / 1st,
3rd, and 5th Platoons have dropped planet-side and are cut off from Katana /
OL4’s EM FIELD PREVENTS COMs. And tracking / Orders: find Drone transmission source / Marine unit Whereabouts:
unknown / STATUS: UNKNOWN /
> Supplementary: 38 Children found alive / EVACED to KATANA /
Unknown craft exhibits signs of design and technology dating back to 21st
century / See attachments for relevant data /
> End Transmission_
---
---
---
---
---STANDBY---
---
---
---
---
> REPLY RECEIVED /
> Relay Reply / TO: UNS KATANA / SABER CLASS DESTROYER /
> SENDER: UNSC-SECCOMM / SENDING REPLY /
---
---HALTED---
---OFFICE OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE OVERRIDE---
---Security CLEARANCE: ASPEN402-2---
---Relay REPLY / TO: UNSC-ONICOMM---
---
---
---STANDBY---
---
---
---RESEND---
---
> REPLY RECEIVED /
> RELAY REPLY / To: UNS Katana / Saber Class Destroyer /
> SENDER: UNS TYR / Mars Class cruiser / SENDING REPLY /
---
> BEGIN TRANSMISSION /
> RELAY: UNS Tyr to UNS
Katana
> FROM: Commanding Officer
UNS TYR: Admiral Xiang li
> LOCATION: CLASSFIED-A402-2
> Subject: RE: Fleet Support Requested at
OL4
> Task force Onyx responding / Hold out /
> End transmission_
