Dark Transmissions (12 page)

 

CHAPTER 16

JAFAHAN

Better to learn a hard lesson for the first time than for the last.

—­Thorn proverb

10th of SSM–10 1445 A2E

“F
alling” forward, with the station approaching her, Commander Jafahan reminded herself to keep her breath steady and controlled. The holographic heads-­up display in her helmet was highlighting their trajectory. Jafahan had no optimistic illusions. There wasn't going to be any easy way through this mission.

This was the opposite of an ideal sortie. A typical Thorn operation was usually backed by a combination of the Pax Humanis intelligence network and firepower. During any of these outings it would have been reasoned that the loss of four was far more acceptable than to risk the ship and the rest of the crew on an ill-­informed rescue op. If she and this pack of piss-­scared recruits Morwyn was sending with her survive their little adventure, Jafahan would make it a point to educate Morwyn on the matter.

Complaints were not, at the moment, a luxury she had. Twelve hours, less now, remained before the only option available to them would be retreat. Acting, moving, changing the battlefield, all the while limiting the opponent's options and maximizing their own, was the only way to keep this whole situation from falling outside their favor.

Jafahan allowed herself a brief moment to admire the view. She could not deny that scene presented to her was not without beauty or merit. The Infinite was indeed a cruel and lovely place. It was also a constant fight against the never relenting forces of entropy and death. It was only while facing these hardiest of enemies that Commander Eliana Jafahan had ever truly felt alive.

To her left, encased in heavy Pax Humanis–issue gray infantry battle armor, was Private Beatrix. The suit had been custom-­built to accommodate her Thegran size and still offered her joints complete mobility. While as advanced as Jafahan's stealth suit, the infantry battle armor was far more durable and capable of absorbing larger amounts of punishment. Beatrix's left forearm was also covered in a heavy morph-­shield gauntlet.

Beatrix's head was protected by a thick helmet. Her face guard was completely gray save for a long black opaque slit across the eyes. A massive kinetic war hammer, easily half of Jafahan's size, was hanging from a magnetized sheath on her thickly armored leg.

A large black sack containing Beatrix's collapsible minigun was strapped across her shoulders. It was a large belt-­fed weapon, capable of firing up to twelve thousand flesh-­rending rounds in just under thirty seconds. It was not the most surgical of tools, but was more than capable of handling large numbers.

Flying to Jafahan's right, Lunient Tor was dressed in an older model Adoran lifesuit. His trapping's joints and plating had a brown, almost copper tint to them. Segmented joints offered Lunient decent enough mobility, she supposed. Tor's helmet was clear and Jafahan could see him chewing his lower lip nervously. The approaching station was reflected in his wide-­open ink-­black eyes, which made Lunient look like a terrified cat.

Jafahan was not at all shocked to see this. Lunient had every reason to be nervous. He was jumping into battle with a long, almost laughably ancient kinetic chemical bolt rifle, or KCBR. Typically the KCBR used chemically coated bolts that, when sprayed with a reaction agent, would propel them forward at lethal velocities. The downside of the KCBR was that each bolt needed to be manually coated and loaded into the chamber. This, more often than not, caused the KCBR to jam or misfire. When either one of these two worst-­case scenarios didn't occur, though, the KCBR was a remarkably precise and powerful firearm. Private Tor's rifle was slung over his shoulder with a belted magnetic loop. Jafahan could tell by the heavy retractable vibrospear blade attached beneath its barrel that Lunient was more than likely no stranger to close-­quarters encounters either.

Fortunately, even though Lunient seemed to be outwardly scared pissless, this did not appear to be his first drop. If the fool could keep his mouth shut, take orders and not find a way to completely hump up the op, then perhaps she would find it in her heart to be softer on him the next time he inevitably required correction.

From here on in there would be no further contact between them and the
Jinxed Thirteenth
. Braced outside the ship's hull, watching them through their respective rifle scopes, both Lucky and Chance would be their guardian eyes. That was provided combat-­shy Private Chance could keep her hands steady and Lucky, the former Shock Legionnaire, had not been overindulging in his liquor-­laced vaposticks.

In her days as a Thorn operator, Jafahan had found herself working side by side with the infamous Shock Legion on several off the book operations. She had, over the course of time, developed a begrudging respect for those who served in it. The successful outcome of more than a few of her black ops had been owed to the Shock Legion's assistance and fierce Wolver courage.

There had always been two choices for Wolvers who desired starflight and were not willing to break their oaths to the Living Green. The first choice was to secure passage with the Kohbran, navigating the cosmos in their City Trees, with no real control of just where the journey might lead. The second was to sign up with the Pax Humanis Shock Legion. This was the payment owed for starflight to any world or system they wanted, the payment the Pax Humanis demanded of the Wolvers before delivering on their end of the bargain.

Loud and vocal had been the outraged Covenant politicians on Central Point denouncing the Shock Legion as both cruel and unethical. Pax Humanis prefects, however, were always offended by these objections. Military ser­vice, after all, only cost the Wolvers their time, not their savings. What was more, the Pax High Command also offered former Legionnaires a private's pension after their term of ser­vice was up. Should they survive, of course.

There was another secret, yet never openly spoken, name among the Pax brass for the Shock Legion. Grinder Meat.

The Shock Legionnaires were the first ones sent into any battle the Pax Humanis got itself into. This didn't make the Shock Legion either incompetent or useless. Far from it, Wolvers were an exceptionally hard breed to put down. They rarely backed away from any kind of fight. Many of the Pax Humanis's former enemies, the operative word being “former,” had scoffed at the ill-­equipped “Wolver ruffian” army as a joke. All of them had quickly learned that the Shock Legion was not to either be underestimated or trifled with.

Falling forward and picking up more speed, Commander Jafahan spun onto her back, facing her feet toward the station. This landing would be an incredibly rough one. Lunient struggled with his form as he tried to fall in next to her. Beatrix piloted her suit in rank, for lack of a better word, quite perfectly.

Jafahan smiled when she observed this. True, Beatrix showed no true aptitude for command, but there was no denying she had plenty of potential as a soldier. Much like herself, Beatrix was driven to prove herself above the regular rank and file. There would be no better time to test out Beatrix's potential than the present moment. Lunient's eyes went wide as they approached, bracing for the incoming impact.

They would only be allowed a single quick burst of suit propulsions. This would slow their approach considerably, but they would still be hitting the station's hull at least five to ten clicks per hour. Their lifesuits would more than likely absorb the majority of the impact. That being said, it would be very far from soft or comfortable.

“Relax those legs of yours and roll into the fall. I won't be catching you if you bounce off. Clear?” Jafahan called out to Lunient as she relaxed her knees.

Warning screens went off in her visor. There was movement on the station's hull. Jafahan saw a dozen black spheres moving into position right on the intended drop zone. She could make out tiny purple bolts zooming toward them.

“Incoming!” Beatrix triggered her morph shield and fired a heavy burst of her suit's thrusters. She quickly zoomed ahead of them, placing herself between the barrage and the rest of the team. The salvo of deadly, suit-­shredding heated purple plasma bolts zoomed past or seared themselves into Beatrix's dense morph-­shield plating.

Lunient rolled behind Jafahan as a quick volley of five bright green energy beams flashed past them from the
Jinxed Thirteenth
. Each one of the blasts hit a black sphere. Some of the black dots sparked and went still, with holes the size of a Humanis head in them.

Jafahan let out a relieved sigh when she saw this. Morwyn's self-­proclaimed eye for talent had been proven right yet again. She begrudgingly admitted to herself that he had been right about laughably mousey Private Chance, after all.

Five more of the drones suddenly went still as equal-­sized holes were punched into them. This brought a smirk to Jafahan's lips. There was no position-­betraying telltale energy trail for a long-­range chemical bolt rifle. Lucky had always liked that about the older model weapons over the newer, slicker energy ones. When Jafahan had once asked him which weapon was his favorite, he had replied with a deadpan look in his eyes: “The one that kills my enemy.”

Two more green energy beams were fired. The last two spheres were now immobile and the landing zone was cleared out. Jafahan braced herself for the imminent collision with the station's hull, firing off one quick burst of her jet-­black stealth suit's retro thrusters.

Her magboots were automatically activated the moment they made contact with the hull and Jafahan rolled slightly forward onto her knees. Beatrix did the same while Lunient, who had gone completely rigid, clumsily collided with the station's hull, tripped and fell forward on his face, cursing angrily and loudly in Confederated Kelthan as he did.

Jafahan pulled him back up while unslinging her autolaser carbine in a well-­oiled motion. This had been her weapon of choice since her first outing as a Thorn operator. It was reliable, precise, adaptable and most importantly completely silent. In a pinch it could also be recharged off of any power source. The automatic laser rifle had been the Pax Humanis's answer to the now classic and versatile Adoran-­built omnibarrel carbine.

Lunient groaned as he cranked his bolt rifle and slapped a round into its chamber, then took a moment to survey their surroundings. “Well, it was good having the element of surprise for a grand total of never.”

“Your concern and encouragement is noted, Private.” Jafahan could make out the station's thruster not twelve steps away from them. They were standing on the edge of its arch-­like shadow. Beatrix let out a long and impressed whistle when she looked it over.

“Our ancestors made it here, and before us at that! They were truly strong. Thegran strong.”

Jafahan rolled her eye. Thegrans always held anything related to the past or Ancient Humanity in high esteem as something of great importance. For Jafahan in any case, at best the station was a pile of junk afloat in space. It was not some sort of sacred temple or testament to Ancient Humanity's strength.

“My balls are here at present, not the ancestors'.” Lunient snorted as he looked over to the shadows with his black night-­eyes. “They are dust and can stay that way for all I—­”

Lunient's words trailed off as he just now spotted something and the blood drained from his already incredibly pale face. On cue, various motion sensors equipped in Jafahan's stealth suit went off. Beatrix had no time to unsling her minigun, pulling out her war hammer instead.

Two dozen movement dots appeared on Jafahan's heads-­up display. They were closing in from the shadows and doing so quickly. “I have got no intention of wasting my life on this encounter,” Jafahan snarled, gripping the handle of her laser carbine tightly and drawing a bead on the closest target.

As if Jafahan's thoughts had been read, blasts of green energy lit up the shadows briefly. Jafahan caught a glimpse of at least three dozen obsidian black spheres rolling toward them. The salvo of energy blasts hit three drones and they exploded.

In response, the spheres turned to face the
Jinxed Thirteenth
all as one. Their hands mechanized some sort of pistol-­shaped tool from within their metallic fingers and they fired a barrage of blue plasma bolts. Jafahan followed the telltale purple streaks of heated plasma back toward the
Jinxed Thirteenth
, each one of them hitting the ship.

Jafahan could only hope that Lucky and Chance had had the presence of mind to either find cover or change firing positions. Each of those plasma bolts could sear and rend through most metals and flesh. But it would take only a tiny hole in any of their suits to spell the end for either of them.

The drones let loose with another barrage of bolts at the ship. Jafahan froze. They were outnumbered and no longer had either the element of surprise or stealth. She could open fire, but there was no way they would survive combat with so many mechanized foes at close range.

“Ma'am!” Beatrix shouted as she shook Jafahan's shoulder, bringing her back to the real world.

“I am not dying here today.” Jafahan patted one of the blast charges of neo-­sem explosives at her side. She had brought five such satchels with them, knowing only two would really be needed.

Plan for the worst, hope for the best.

When she saw the satchels, Beatrix unfurled her morph shield and stepped forward. “Everyone behind me!” she bellowed.

Jafahan pulled out the timer charge from one of her satchels and hurled it with all her might at the gathering drones. Lunient Tor did not have to be told twice as he took cover behind Beatrix with Jafahan close behind him.

Beatrix let out a deep “woot” as the satchel was detonated. All three of them felt the explosion's vibration along the hull. A deadly hail of flaming shrapnel whizzed past them. The only thing keeping the team safe and alive was Private Beatrix bracing herself behind her morph shield. Beatrix let out a loud challenging roar as she stood her ground against the blast and the shock wave that followed it.