Blood War 1: Last Stand of the Legion: Rift (4 page)

REFERENCE POINT 77.89.67 EASTINGS

SOL STANDARD 11/10

1330 HOURS

Dasan drove himself. He felt the weight of the children constantly. Why would they take them? What were their motives?  Each time he would begin to falter he would remember the children and it would be the difference. 

The rest of the platoon pushed themselves with no complaints. They were past what the book said was physically possible. His Legionnaires were doing things the book said could not be done. The men and women of the platoon were pushing past physical endurance with only the force of their wills and the Legion's brutal physical training keeping them going. Dasan, for the first time, really understood the value and reason for the daily hours long physical training sessions that pushed everyone to their physical limits. Without that training, the platoon would have broken down long ago physically under the stress. The training had produced an iron core in each of them, a knowledge that they were capable of pushing themselves beyond what they had thought possible

Dasan and Aijuba did not have to remind the platoon to stay in formation.  They were flying as well as Dasan had ever seen them, in spite of the fatigue.  All were helping Liu with sensor readings, doing their own sweeps, coming up with their own suggestions.  The
platoon was united in one purpose in a way Dasan had not experienced before.

Physically, Dasan was unsure how much longer any of them could continue. Instead of a gentle bump when his radar detected an object, now it felt like a jab of a knife.  The tingly sensation he got when another sensor swept his craft, felt like someone touching a newly burned finger.  Each time he would think it was too much, Dasan would remember that there was no one else. He and the platoon were the only chance the children had to be rescued. It was their responsibility
. The oath they had all taken suddenly took on new meaning. They were no longer just words - now they were actions that caused pain and suffering. They were actions that brought to mind words like tradition, honor and duty. Dasan now understood the mottos of Legion units were not just words but came from times like this. Danger is my pleasure. To the end. No other equals. Dasan and the platoon flew on as other Legionnaires before them had done. It was their duty and they were going to live up to their oath and the traditions of the Legion.

The pain was becoming almost unbearable now. Instead of flying Dasan found himself focusing on the pain
; it became harder and harder to concentrate on the mission. He was not sure how much more he or the platoon could take before there was a mistake that could end someone's life. The platoon pushed on until Dasan could wait no longer. He had held off using the drugs until his own body was screaming for relief. The cocktail of amphetamines, painkillers and metabolic enhancers was a toxic mix. Dasan and the rest would pay a physical price for using them but he had no other choice. They could not last much longer without them. He had hoped to overtake the aliens before having to turn to the drugs but it was not to be. He had never had to order the drugs before, no one had. He had read all the manuals and had all the training but their use had only been tested in simulations; no one had ever had to use the drugs on an actual patrol before.

"We are going to the drugs
," Dasan said.

No one replied.

"On my mark all members will inject. Remember your training
."

The drugs flooded his system. It was
initially a euphoric sensation. The pain subsided and the fatigue lifted. He felt a surge of energy, but somehow the drugs did not take the pain or fatigue away they just pushed them into the background. He still hurt, he still was exhausted but it was manageable. The platoon flew on.

REFERENCE POINT 78.65.98 EASTINGS

SOL STANDARD 11/10

2100 HOURS

The trail was getting stronger. They were flying on training and discipline alone.  The drugs had long ago lost their effectiveness.
Dasan stared again at his readouts on his situational display. There was nothing except the next nearest system Choem. They were well beyond the Gaxola system and still had not found the aliens. His velocity readout was pegged and had been since the patrol had exited the Gaxola system. The patrols’ bearing was the same as the trail the aliens had left in their wake. His liquid oxygen levels and flow rate were fine; the plasma he floated in was well oxygenated and he had more than enough left. The problem was the crystal temperature. It was barely in the green. In fact, at times it had bounced into the red. The cooling system had brought it back down into the green but Dasan did not know how much longer could keep up with pressures put on the crystals. They could not go on like this much longer. Dasan had to come up with something to either find the aliens or he would be forced to turn back empty handed - something that he would forever have to live with. Failing those children would be a real burden. He could not fail them.

He tried to think. What were they going to do if they found them?  The aliens would more than likely outnumber them. He needed a plan before they stumbled on
to them. Dasan switched to the private command frequency with Aijuba.

"Sergeant
?"

"Yeah, Skipper."

"How are we going to do this once we find them? You have been in combat."

"We will probably be outnumbered but we should have the element of surprise on our side. So we fight on our terms. Choose where and when we fight.  Always the unexpected."

"Good advice."

"Skipper, advice is
easy; pulling it off is another matter."

Dasan knew she was right. They flew on. 

Where was their damn ship?  Could they have passed it? Could they have flown right by them? Dasan glanced at the Choem system on his navigation chart. It had not been explored so there was not much information. It was named for the first person to map it, the famed explorer Henry David Choem. There was no space weather forecast for it since there was no traffic, private or military, out this far. No more information than it existed and had planets.

Then it struck him. The aliens could not have been ship-launched
they would have found it by now. The aliens must be heading for a forward base.  It had to be a base launch. The Choem system was close enough for such a base, the only system that had planets. It was the perfect forward base. Why hadn't he seen it sooner? He had been so fixed on a ship-launched raid; he had developed tunnel vision and missed the obvious.

"Sand to Aijuba. Change course for the Choem system. It was a base launched raid.  We'll get them when they go to ground."

              "You know that will extend the patrol even longer."

             
"Yes, but that is where they will be."

             
There was a momentary pause then Aijuba said, "Aye, aye Skipper. You're right. I should have thought of that." There was real respect in her voice now.

The platoon formed up and headed for the Choem system. Dasan could almost hear the pain as they made the heading adjustment. He felt it and he knew the rest of the platoon did too
, but there were no complaints. The platoon was acting like the professionals they were trained to be.

Dasan had been right.  They found the base on the fourth planet in the Choem system. It was a small rocky planet with a thin corrosive atmosphere. Dasan's sensors showed the atmosphere was mixture of 80% sulfur dioxide and 20% ammonia. It was hardly a habitable planet but an ideal launch point. The aliens were making no attempt to hide their presence. Liu found their electronic signature long before they reached the system. Apparently they did not think anyone would follow.  But there was a bigger puzzle to solve now.  Sensors showed no raiding party.

             
"You know sir," Aijuba said, her voice sounding fatigued, "we were not pulling a sled full of prisoners. It would slow them considerably. We simply beat them here."

She was right. The base had no picket of sensors. Nor did the base have any ships up for overhead protection. They felt very secure. If he were the raid's leader he would come straight into the base. No fancy stuff. Get his troops to ground as soon as possible.  They must be as tired as his troopers were now.  They could be ambushed. Fight on your terms.

He glanced at his crystal temperature. It was now in the red. He did not know how much longer they could continue to fly before one of the ships had a catastrophic crystal failure. He would set the ambush at their current position; it was as good as any.

"Ok, platoon on my mark we go silent. Shut all active sensor systems and we drift. Passive
sensors only. I want us to be invisible. Ready, mark."

Dasan shut down his engine and all of his sensors. With nothing else to do but wait he watched the crystal temperature slowly begin to decrease. He hoped he had made the right choice.

CHOEM SYSTEM

REFERENCE POINT 83.73.20 EASTINGS

SOL STANDARD 11/11

0130 HOURS

"Stand by."

Dasan startled awake. He must have fallen asleep; something the book said was impossible in flight status.

"Stand by," Ching repeated.

His sensors detected the ships at the very edge of the range of his sensors. He felt the bump of the incoming raiding party and gasped in pain.  His screen showed the aliens in a loose formation, they were as tired as Dasan and his Legionnaires. There were twenty of them. Dasan and his platoon would be outnumbered. That did not matter.  The sled was in the middle. Three of the ships were pulling the sled with the children. Dasan had his platoon arrayed in loose finger four formations.  He had positioned the platoon "in the sun" with the systems star at their backs. It was a Class D with enough emissions to cover the platoon, especially if the raiders were not expecting an ambush. 

He felt no defensive systems from the aliens. No shields. No sensors. They thought they were home free. They would be tired; they had pushed themselves to reach the system. They could be ambushed. For the first time in a long time, Dasan did not feel tired. It could not have been better. The other commander had done exactly as Dasan had expected. 

"Go to line abreast. Arm your weapons." 

He paused
- the image of the children being taken flashed through his mind.

"Guerre à mort
"," he said quietly.  It was the ancient command that took all restrains off, war to the death, war without mercy.

"Guerre à mort
,"
Aijuba said, a chilling coldness in her voice.

"Guerre à mort."

"Guerre à mort."

The platoon repeated the order one by one.
             

"Dien here. I've got 10 contacts on my outer range. .002 e.t.a
," the point man reported.

"They still don't know we are here
," Dasan said. "Set torpedoes at max range.  Dien let the other ships link to your firing solution.  Mask the sleds; we don't want to lose them now. Fire a platoon spread when computed."

"Check L.T.
," Dien said.

Dasan felt the raiders
’ formation; he saw them as moving red stars.  His ship shuddered as the torpedoes fired on Dien's ship's command. Red lines traced the torpedoes from his platoon as they streaked to intercept the alien ships.  It seemed to take forever. This was the raiders’ last chance to escape. If they detected those torpedoes early, they could maneuver away. The alien fighters would turn on them and it would be over. Dasan would not rescue the children and his platoon would have little chance against a force the size of the aliens. Everything depended on taking out some of the aliens before a dogfight. Long seconds ticked off the clock. The torpedoes raced toward the aliens. Then explosions of color filled his screen as the torpedoes found targets, the aliens never detecting them before they struck.  Some of the enemy ships simply disappeared.

The Legionnaires were "above" the aliens
; as one, the platoon dove toward the remaining ships. The alien ships were larger and heavier than the Legionnaires, just as Aijuba had said. Where was the troop ship that contained the ground troops? That was what Dasan wanted more that the fighters. Those ships were the one's who had gone down to the planet and taken the children.

"No quarter, Legionnaires
," Dasan snapped. But orders were not necessary.

The platoon split into pairs and closed
in on the raiders.  The years of training had developed an iron discipline, sharpened by anger, turned the tired men and women of the platoon into the Legionnaires feared across the Confederation. Dasan's ship was rocked by several near misses as he and Aijuba dove into the melee.  An alien craft spun and flashed by firing wildly as it passed. Dasan dove toward an alien fighter that had turned to meet him. He fired his weapons as they came to bear. Explosions rocked the alien's ship, damaging it. It spun and fired, missing badly. Dasan turned hard to get behind the alien.

The battle was joined. 
As the two sides met, it became the classic fur ball fight so aptly named almost a millennium ago when craft fought in the atmosphere of a planet.  Alien and Legionnaire ships were twisting, turning and spinning in a deadly dance. Weapons from both sides left red, green, orange and even purple trails through the fight. Communications between the platoon was almost constant.

"I got one!"

"Break right, break right!'

"Two o'clock. Check two o'clock."

"Spin right."

"Reverse on him. Reverse."

More explosions near played havoc with his weapons systems, Dasan fired and hit but again the alien took the punishment and turned away.  An alien ship disappeared in a colorful flash to his left.  A Legionnaire ship fired across his bow, and then darted among through the alien vessels. The battle was faster and more confusing than any of the simulators. Yet he felt completely in control of himself and his platoon. He found himself flying with a precision he did not know he possessed. It was as if he had been born for this.

An enemy fighter dove on Dasan and Aijuba. 

"L.T. there is a bandit diving on us," Aijuba said.

"When I say break, you break right and I'll break left."

"Check."

The raider closed rapidly.

"Break."

Dasan broke to his left but it may have been too late. The enemy fighter turned and stayed on his tail.  Dasan tightened his turn and took the raider head on into Aijuba.  Aijuba fired and scored a hit but
it did not slow the alien ship.  Dasan went around again trying to bring him back to Aijuba, but just as Aijuba fired, the alien ship split right and dove. 

"Cao!" Aijuba said.

Dasan turned and followed him. Just as he locked onto the ship, the alien stood on his tail again, and did a ninety-degree turn straight up.  Aijuba had followed Dasan and the alien down but had taken the high post. She was waiting for him. She fired and scored two hits with her torpedoes. 

The alien ship took both hits but was still able to turn on Aijuba. Dasan pulled a ninety-degree right turn and dropped in behind the alien. Groaning in pain through the turn Dasan pulled into perfect position, as the alien leveled out for a shot at Aijuba. Dasan fired a full spread at the fighter
; as large as it was, he did not want to risk anything but a clean kill. The torpedoes exploded and the raider's ship simply disappeared. Dasan and Aijuba reformed and turned back into the melee.

They were on the other side of the raiders now.  They spun together, and launched a spread of torpedoes. They caught an alien two-ship section as they were beginning to make a turn.  There was a series of explosions and the raiders ships vanished.  Only then did Dasan notice that the battle was over.  Debris marked the battle area,
but the platoon was intact.  All Legionnaires were present and accounted for. The ambush had been a complete surprise they had destroyed the aliens without losing a ship. 

"
Where is the troop ship?" Dasan said.

"Sir it's
." Aijuba said.

Dasan saw the troop ship the same instant Aijuba did. It was hugging close
to the planet, running for its life, trying to make it back to the outpost on the reverse side the planet.

"Mine," Dasan said.

"Understood," Aijuba said.

"Guerre à mort,"
Dasan said quietly to himself as he dove his ship toward the large enemy troop carrier. His ship was rocked again and again as the troop carrier's defensive guns pounded his ship. He did not see the warning light for the damage. He ignored each explosion against his ship even though it felt like a professional boxer pounding on his mid-section. All he could see were the names of the children. All he felt was the fear they must have experienced when those troops had come for them.

He fired the last of
his torpedoes, but he did not turn away. He followed them in firing his "guns" as he continued to dive. The rounds of his mini rail guns formed an almost continuous glowing line between his ship and the troop carrier. The first of the torpedoes exploded against the troop carrier as the mini rounds tore into the ship; it was beginning to break up, debris was exploding from its interior. Suddenly what looked like a body came tumbling out. Dasan hit it with a several thousand rounds from this mini and it disintegrated, leaving a pale green mist.

He dove through the debris field left by the troop carrier, somehow surviving a collision with thousands of pieces of the ship. The picture of a body as it exploded flashed through his mind and for the first time he felt the cold reality of deliberately killing a living being. He had no regrets but he did not feel satisfaction either, rather there was a cold
, hard knot of understanding of what it took to live up to the oath he had taken.

"Sir, permission to take out the outpost," Aijuba said.

"Permission granted.  Be careful Aijuba, they will know you are coming. They may have some defenses. Take the first flight." Dasan knew Aijuba had a very old score to settle.

"Check, Lieutenant,"
she said.

Aijuba's attack on the outpost was as swift and deadly as the attack on the ships had been.  Aijuba and the first section were soon reformed and headed back to the platoon.

"Lieutenant," Wong, leader of the second section said, "all of the children are on the sled. They are fine and in status. It will be a nice quiet flight back."

"Good
."  All Dasan could think of was the flight back.  The platoon was stretched beyond its physical limits now; he was not sure how many of them could survive the flight back.  They formed up raggedly.  Dasan found the waypoint. Despite their fatigue, the men and women of the platoon flew as precisely as they had fought; now there was a pride of being a combat veteran and the pride of accomplishing a difficult mission. Dasan could sense it.