Battle Earth VI (Book 6) Page 2
"We invaded their homelands. Remember how hard we fought back when they did it to us?" the Captain responded.
"Hardly the same thing, Sir. They started this war."
"I'm not sure it matters anymore the reasons why or who did what," he muttered.
Ryan fell silent once again. Most of the bridge crew could now do little but watch the carnage unfold before them.
"Sir! We have incoming assault craft!" yelled Wayans.
"Divert all fire to them! We can't let them get through!"
The Deveron's guns roared, and one of the craft was cut in half from the salvo. Fighters from the Collingwood approached in formation to try and stop them, but even as the first few craft were immobilised or destroyed, more pushed forward. A dozen of the assault craft burst through some of the wreckage, heading directly for the Collingwood. The fighters quickly came around, but they had little time to stop them.
Half of the enemy craft were blown apart, but the others smashed into the hull of their flagship.
"God save us," whispered Ryan.
He turned his attention back to the viewing screen and saw a salvo of enemy fire heading their way. Just a second later, the Deveron was rocked violently by multiple impacts, and the Captain was thrown off his feet. His head smashed into the Captain's chair. Despite being saved from death by his helmet, he instantly blacked out.
Ryan regained consciousness to see sparks and smoke emanating from the console at the front of the bridge. Crews were fighting to put out the flames. He could tell he had been out for just a minute or two, but it was still disorientating. His head throbbed so much it felt as if it were going to burst out of the helmet. Two of the crew were seriously hurt and were being attended to.
A hand slapped down on his shoulder and wrenched him around. His neck was limp, and his head flopped over before recovering. Wayans was kneeling over him and asking something, but his hearing was still dulled. Within just a few seconds it recovered, but Wayans had already resulted to shouting louder after realising he couldn't understand.
"Are you okay, Sir?"
The ear splitting shout hurt his ears further, making his eyes wince. The coarse and acrid electrical burning smell filled his nostrils, and for a moment, he wished to be dead and have it all over with. He nodded in response to Wayans’ question. He reached forward and hauled him back onto his feet.
"Are you with us, Sir?" he asked.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm still here," he finally replied.
The ship was rocked again by a smaller impact that Ryan barely weathered. His knees wobbled, and he was feeling sick from the disorientation.
"Somebody give me an update!"
Wayans scrambled from one of the wounded crew to his console. Their viewing screen was down, and the Lieutenant was doing his utmost to get it back up and running. As he tapped away on the controls, he started to convey the info he had.
"The Manchester is destroyed. Damage is being reported throughout the fleet, and the Collingwood is fighting at multiple breaches in their hull, Sir."
"Are we holding?"
"At present, Sir, yes, but there seems to be no end to the enemy fleet coming through the Gateway."
Lights flickered as the display monitor came back online. Ryan gasped at the sight. The lights and glow of the revolving Gateway were barely visible anymore over the mass of enemy ships. None of them were in any doubt now that victory could not be had there today.
"Put me through to the Commodore," said Ryan.
Clark's face came up on a screen projection beside that of the ensuing battle.
"Sir, we can't stay here. Much longer and they'll roll over us," stated Ryan.
"Our orders are to defend this location at all costs, Captain. At all costs! You do your duty, Clark out."
The screen cut off, and Ryan was left with an even more bitter taste in his mouth than that caused by the fumes of the recent fires.
"Sir, we've got incoming assault pods!"
Ryan looked to the screen at the small craft rushing for their position, far smaller than the large rams that had crashed into the Collingwood. They could carry just five to ten Mechs each, but they were still every bit as terrifying.
"Shoot the bastards down. We can't let them get aboard!"
The Deveron's guns raged at the wing of drop pods heading their way. The first salvo destroyed four outright, but another half a dozen were still closing. The rapid speed at which they approached only gave enough time for one more rushed salvo. Three of the pods smashed into the hull of the Deveron.
"This is Ryan to Samson. We have multiple hull breaches."
"On it, Sir," he quickly replied over their comms.
Small explosions erupted throughout the ship as the enemy blasted the rest of their way onboard. Ryan turned to look at the entrance to the bridge, half expecting to see the Mechs stomping towards him. The marines stood confidently at the doorway with their weapons at the ready, but the navy crew were terrified. Most had forgotten the rest of the battle altogether. Coming face-to-face with a Mech was something that should be feared, but Ryan knew he must face their other troubles. He snapped around.
"Lieutenant! Give me an update on the enemy progress."
There was silence for a moment as Wayans got back to his screens.
"Sir, we've got enemy cruisers almost on top of us. There ain't much left of the minefield. The Collingwood says she's still in the fight, but see for yourself, Sir."
He panned their display screen around to show the flagship. Fires raged along her length, and enemy pulses continued to hammer the hull.
"God knows how many Mechs they have aboard."
Gunfire burst out behind them, the heavy calibre marine rifles echoing around the bridge, causing them all to flinch.
"They're here," Ryan said to himself.
He lifted his rifle and rushed to the door where the marines were firing.
"How have they got this close?" he asked.
"Sir, it's a big ship for a few dozen marines to cover. That's why we're here," replied Corporal Herrera.
Ryan stuck his head out from a barricade they had setup. The bodies of two Mechs were in the corridor. More fire could be heard faintly from further back in the Deveron.
"Sir, we just lost half our starboard weapons!"
"What?"
"They're being blown from the inside, Sir."
The Marine corporal beside him leaned in.
"Same as we'd do if we could. Without our guns, they'll blow us out of the sky in no time."
There is no sky here, thought Ryan. Run or die.
He spun around and shouted at Wayans.
"Get me Clark, right now!"
He rose to his feet and strode across the bridge as the comms channel opened. The Commodore was looking calm, but they could all hear the gunfire not so far away.
"Sir, we can't stay in this fight any longer!"
"We can and we will, Captain."
"Damn it, Sir, we can do no further good here. We'll lose this fleet for nothing gained. We've done all the damage we can to those bastards."
"And so you just want to let them roll on to Earth?"
"We don't have a choice, anymore! All we can do is retreat and re-group with the rest of our fleets so we have a fighting chance."
"I will not abandon this position!"
An explosion erupted behind the Commodore, and debris tumbled down over his head. In the ensuing chaos, they could only watch as pulses and gunfire were traded across the bridge of their flagship. The feed stayed open, and they could see marines pushing their way across the bridge, their officer shouting at the crew.
"Get us the hell out of here!"
One of the Navy officers appeared before them where the Commodore had previously stood. Blood trickled down the woman's face, and fear had almost overcome her.
"This is the Collingwood. Initiate immediate withdrawal. Get back to Earth anyway you can!"
Further explosions erupted, and the signal was cut off, but the
y could already see the flagship's engines roar to life. Whoever was left alive was getting out of there with all haste.
"Get moving, now!" yelled Ryan.
Wayans was already ahead of him. They had been anticipating the order from the second they first saw the enemy.
"Herrera, get to those starboard gun positions, and take down whatever bastards are there!"
"Sir, I have orders to hold the bridge."
"If we don't deal with whatever got aboard, we could lose weapons, or God forbid, engines, at any moment. We've got the bridge. You take the fight to them!"
"Yes, Sir."
Ryan could see the look of glee in the marine’s eyes. After seeing from the bridge of the Deveronthe vicious mauling the fleet had received,he wanted nothing more than to get his pound of flesh.
"On me, now!" he ordered.
The five of them rushed out with determination to crush all before them. Ryan turned to his bridge crew.
"All I need right now is a pilot and gunner. The rest of you guard that doorway."
Despite the horrifying prospect of what it might entail, no one contested the order. They were still in shock from the vicious attack but relieved to be leaving the enemy behind. As they got out of hearing distance, Wayans finally spoke.
"Sir, you think we can escape from them?"
"They'll be licking their wounds for a while, and they ain't any quicker than us these days," Ryan replied proudly.
He turned to the display screen. Four of the eleven ships had been left behind. Two were nothing more than floating hulks, and the other two were quickly following suit.
"I hope they met a quick and painless end," stated Wayans.
Ryan nodded in agreement, but he knew many of them would not have received such mercy. Gunfire still poured from the Deveron at the enemy ships, but they were quickly reaching the limits of their range. The enemy fighters were gone now, but the largest enemy guns still harassed them.
"The Collingwood looks in a bad way."
"They're still moving," replied Ryan. There's a lot to be said for that.”
"Sir, we got incoming!"
Before he could turn, a pulse smashed into the defences at the door to the bridge. The crew ducked down behind it as fragments of the pulse splintered out across the deck. Ryan could smell the burn of the pulse fragments eating into their metal deck. Further pulses continued to hit the position where the crew were hunkered down. No one wanted to stick his neck out to return fire.
"Put some fire down on them!" he shouted.
They heard his order but didn’t respond. They were frozen by the fear of impending death as the creatures stomped up the corridor towards them. Between the cracking bursts of pulses, they could hear the steps getting nearer. Ryan cursed as he leapt to their position and slammed up against the edge of the doorway.
"The only thing that's going to stop them is us, now start shooting!"
He leaned around the corner and let off a burst from his rifle. There was little need to aim, as the corridor was relatively narrow and straight. He caught a glimpse of at least two creatures before a pulse racing towards his head made him jerk back. The impact ripped a half a metre hole in the edge of the doorway. The blast impact barely missed the Captain.
Wayans look around in panic. His back faced the doorway from his seat, but he could not leave his post. Ryan leaned into the hole that had been blasted and fired another burst. It was enough to inspire the others to do the same. Dozens of rounds were thrown down the corridor, but few were aimed shots.
Ryan ducked back again, but when he leaned around for another attempt, he felt the heat of the enemy’s weapon as a pulse fired. He stopped just in time to save himself, but he knew the enemy were right on top of them. He held is rifle around the corner and blind fired the rest of his magazine, jumping back to put in another. As he did so, he looked up to see his scared comrades hiding.
"Get up there and shoot!"
He pushed in the new mag and turned into the doorway once again. He suspected it would be his last and opened up on full auto. He had a full view of the creatures now, and his rounds smashed into the nearest one, killing it quickly. But two others were close behind. They're weapons quickly powered up and were about to unleash a fury of pulses when an explosion erupted behind them, sending them crashing to the deck.
The crew watched in shock and delight as marines rushed up the corridor, firing rapidly at the wounded creatures until they stood over their vanquished foes and made sure the job was finished. Lieutenant Samson was at the head of the marines. His armour was scorched and clothing of his upper right arm burnt from an enemy pulse, but he seemed unaffected by it.
"Where are we up to, Captain?" he asked, as if nothing had changed.
"Fleet is bugging out. We're overrun."
"No shit," he responded.
"Have you cleared all those bastards out yet?"
Before Samson could answer, a few gunshots rang out where they had come from.
"We're flushing the last of them out as we speak."
Ryan nodded in acknowledgement. He could see the marine was maintaining his position at the bridge until the ordeal was over, and Ryan wasn't going to complain. The two of them turned to look at the viewing screens that now showed their flanks and stern. Shots still poured back from where they’d left, but in less number now. Samson gasped at the sight of the damage of the larger vessels around them.
"We could never have held there with so small a force," he stated.
"No, we couldn't. But neither did they come out of the fight unscathed."
"Sir, if I may ask. Why the hell were we just a bare bones operation when such a threat was ever present?"
Ryan sighed as he thought it over.
"People wanted to believe it was all over. We were just a token force."
"They won’t believe it now."
Ryan turned back to Wayans and could see the relief in his face. Many of the crew were still huddled behind cover with their rifles clenched to their bodies. Ryan knew they had come within minutes of losing the lives of everyone in the fleet.
"Any sign of them following us?" he asked.
"Negative, Sir, or not at any speed anyway."
The Captain breathed out in relief and could see the rest of the crew relax. He thought they had been posted to a lifeless and deathly boring tour at the Gateway, but now they faced another war and were running for their lives.
"Won't they ever leave our System alone?" asked Wayans.
"Nope, not while we fight to defend it."
Chapter 2
"What are their intentions? What are they coming for? How can they be stopped?" These are the questions we must all ask and get answers to," said General White. "Let us remember that this is an emergency meeting. We have little information but must make quick decisions."
The room was silent for a moment as over thirty high-ranking military officials from the major powers in the World discussed the news. Most were projected through screens placed around the table. Only five sat in the room from where White hosted the talks.
"The Secretary of Defence has left this in my hands to discuss and take the appropriate measures once we, as a collective, can make a decision."
Finally Field Marshal Copley spoke up.
"Seems to me that we need information more than anything. We must gather our forces at Earth while scouts are sent out to find out what the hell is going on, and what is bearing down on us."
"Are we here yet again? Ready to fight to the death once more for no reason?" asked Dupont.
White shook his head in disbelief. He had quickly come to understand how Taylor had come to blows with the idiot of a General.
"The simple facts are this, General. We have a fight coming our way. That shouldn't be such a surprise anymore. We can wait for them to come to us and have no information at all. Or we can send out intelligence gatherers so that we better understand our position."
"And those are our only two options?" Dupont re
plied sharply.
"Clearly they are," Schulz said.
Dupont had his nose put out of place by the German officer, but he could do little but accept it as Schulz continued.
"We have a fleet like never before. Clearly Commodore Clark managed to put up a fight against the enemy with what little he had. I propose we prepare the fleets for immediate action while information is gathered through scouting parties."
"Okay, then we are in agreement. As you are all aware, Colonel Taylor has a turncoat that joined him some way back. That defector has proven to be more than useful and trustworthy. Taylor's unit is presently training MDF forces on the Moon. I can have him dispatched immediately. Between them, they are our best hope of reliable information."
Out of the corner of his eye, the General could see Dupont curse at the name of the Colonel. That tickled him a little, as he already hated the Frenchman.
"We should send another four scouting parties alongside him. Each aboard different ships, the fastest we have. We need to know everything we can," General Richards added.
"Then it is decided. We have many dark days ahead, but we have seen it all before. Seen it, fought it, beaten it. Let's make sure all our people know we're on the winning side."
* * *
"Second team go!" shouted Taylor.
Soldiers rushed from cover past the Colonel and Commander Kelly who stood watching. A platoon of his Inter-Allied was opposing the MDF in a training exercise.
"An enemy ship has breached your perimeter, and your guys have just a minute or two to contain them before they run rampant," Taylor said.
"I don't think any of us need reminding of it," he replied.
Shouts rang out as the MDF soldiers advanced and laid down fire. The blank ammunition was every bit as loud as the real thing, and the laser tag devices fitted ensured they had the correct effect.
The two officers watched as a hundred MDF soldiers closed in on their target. They all utilised the Reitech equipment that Taylor had become so accustomed to.