Into the Black: Odyssey One (30 page)

The squad splits smoothly apart, the first team targeting the fighters as they swung in on another pass. The second team accelerated out of the dogfight and vectored toward the enemy capital ship.

Stephanus ‘haloed’ another fighter in his HUD and loosed a havoc missile, forgetting the target as soon as he did. That fighter was dead the second the big missile dropped from its pylon and Stephanus had more things to worry about than some soon to be flotsam.

*****

Roberts smiled tightly as he watched the Archangels break up and move to harass the enemy vessel. “Captain, Commander Michaels has initiated harassing maneuvers against the Drasin ship.”

Weston just nodded, accepting the report while he kept his attention focused on the cruiser he was going head to head with.
He’s not going to make the same mistake as the others. He’s going to keep this up close and personal, where we can’t duck his shots and adapt to his laser frequency.

Inwardly Weston smiled, he could respect an opponent that was able to adapt as quickly as this, “lock the forward laser array and fire a medium beam.”

Which wasn’t, of course, the same as liking said enemy.

Like any warrior, Weston liked the easy targets. The ones he could respect, he’d rather have on his side, then against him.

*****

The laser array glowed a bright white briefly as it charged, an invisible beam erupting from it a few seconds later. The beam slashed across the vacuum toward its target, only to flash through empty space and vanish into the depths, as the Drasin ship slipped aside.

The Drasin vessel slowed slightly, making its closet pass to the planet as it did, and launched a dozen chunky pods with fighter escorts. The ship continued toward the Odyssey as the pods and fighters descended toward the peaceful planet below.

*****

The back and forth of weapons signatures were echoed on the threat board in the command and control center, and the occupants of the room watched in rapt attention as the computer displayed the exchange of fire in clean, sanitized, graphics for their consumption.

Admiral Tanner watched the board himself, wondering at the miracle that was being given to him.

He and his people had been prepared to die for a few minutes delay, but this unidentified ship was buying them more time than they’d dared to dream of.

Now, if only it would be enough.

*****

“Captain! The ship just launched fighters and what looks like a planetary assault squadron.” Waters spun around, looking over his shoulder at the Captain.

Weston just focused on the descending ships, calling up the minimal profiles the Odyssey’s active sensors had managed to gather before they hit the atmosphere. “Project their landing point, Commander.”

“Aye Sir,” Roberts called up a vector projection and had the computer estimate probable landing sites. “Captain, looks like a major settlement on a continent in the northern hemisphere.”

Milla stepped forward and looked at the data, over Roberts shoulder. She gasped slightly as she recognized the city on the data display. “That is Mons Systema! It’s the government capital of this system.”

Weston nodded, accepting that information quietly. “Roberts, go down to the shuttle bay and have Savoy prepare his men for some ground pounding.”

“Aye Captain.” Roberts face looked troubled, but he got up quickly and strode off the Bridge, tapping the induction set on his jaw, as he did.

“Commander?” Weston half turned.

“Yes Sir?” The Commander paused, glancing back.

“Once they’re away, take command of the auxiliary Bridge,” Weston said stiffly. “I’ll have a command crew waiting for you.”

“Aye Captain,” Roberts nodded. Turning back toward the lift.

Eric Weston didn’t watch him leave, but rather turned back to the tactical repeater that showed the situation outside.

“Colonel Savoy, we have a situation developing,” he could hear Roberts speaking as he waited for the lift. “Prepare your men for a hot insertion; you’ll have to do an OILO.”

The doors hissed shut then, and the Captain paid them no more attention, as the situation outside became paramount to his thinking. Behind him, he didn’t notice his young ‘guest’ hit the call switch for the lift, while everyone else was busy with other matters.

*****

Stephanus jinked to the left as a stray missile detonated just off his wingtip, rocking the plane with the concussion, but thankfully missing any major shrapnel impacts. He flipped the plane end for end on his directional thrusters, killing his main engines as he did, and let the plane’s momentum take it along its previous course, as he ‘haloed’ the fighter that tried to ice him.

“Adios, sucker.”

Stephanus’ eighty millimeter cannon blazed, ripping the pursuing fighter to shreds in an instant. He watched the blaze of flame and shrapnel for a second before he kicked his main engines back into full power and killed his momentum, swivelling around and accelerating toward another target.

Around him, the Archangels were faring well against their alien counterparts, often taking the enemy fighters by sheer element of surprise. The enemy pilots were obviously not used to targets that shot back.

*****

Roberts burst into the hanger bay just ahead of the assault team the clangs of the magboots echoing off the walls and ceiling as they headed for the shuttle. A few moments later, the lift doors opened again and a lone figure stepped out.

“Miss Chans,” Roberts said as he recognized the figure. “I don’t think that your presence is needed this time.”

Milla finished snapping the armor on as she walked into the room, the helmet crooked in the bend of her arm. “I think that you will need someone on the surface who knows the people, Commander. And I do not think that anyone else on board fits that description and knows how to operate your ‘firm suits’.”

Roberts scowled slightly, but had to acknowledge the point. “I don’t suppose you’ve had any weapons training?”

Milla’s face darkened, “I have had some with our own lasers, and Commander Michaels showed me the basics of your own rifles.”

Brinks and Savoy looked at each other, a concerned look passing between them. Neither liked the idea of having an armed civilian at their backs.

Roberts would have agreed with them had they said anything, but he also knew that Milla brought other things to the mission. He looked at her with an odd smirk and spoke again, “And you’re probably not OILO qualified either.”

Milla raised her eyebrows, “OILO?”

*****

“The shuttle has launched, Captain.”

Weston nodded, otherwise ignoring the update, and snapped another order. “Direct a new barrage at the enemy capital ship, bracket it while the shuttle makes its approach.”

“Aye Sir.”

The weaponry officer tapped the commands into the keypad and the low whine of charging capacitors was heard, as the laser array charged for the next volley.

A moment later, the laser array flared briefly with the incidental illumination of its pulsed energy release, just as the Odyssey engaged the enemy ship and its fighter complement with its smaller cannons, rockets, and laser systems.

The Drasin vessel rocked under the multiple impacts, saving itself from serious damage by reversing engines and slipping back past the dispersion range of the Odyssey’s weapons. As it did so, Lt. Samuels slipped her shuttle through the opening the Odyssey had prepared for her and rocketed for the planet ahead.

“The shuttle has broken through, Captain.”

Weston nodded, “ETA to Pulse Torpedo recharge?”

“Thirty-eight minutes, Sir.”

Weston growled low in his throat at the answer, causing several Bridge officers to pale slightly and studiously examine their stations.

*****

“Christ, Samuels!” Brinks yelled as his armored body was slammed into the restraints for the eighth time, in as many seconds. “Cut me some slack back here, I’m not as fond of acceleration bruises as you pilots!”

Samuels just grinned, showing her teeth as she favored the big man with a glance over her shoulder. Several other soldiers groaned at the sight, and muttered amongst themselves. Samuels had been something of a legend in their circles, a truly insane pilot who did anything to get her squad into and out of the worst possible missions imaginable. The only thing worse than her smiling during a flight, was when she showed her teeth.

Samuels turned back to her controls, her eye flickering wistfully toward the distance flashes that marked the area of space, where she knew the Archangels were fighting for their lives. A moment later, she hardened her eyes and turned back to the assault team in the back.

“We’re picking up signs of fighting near the Capital on the southern continent!” The young pilot yelled back to where the fighting teams were preparing their equipment. “I’m moving into a geo-sync… Red light is off, we’re at yellow now!”

Milla watched as the military people continued their work with cool precision, not bothering to respond to the announcement. The young pilot didn’t seem to expect any answer either, she turned back to her piloting and focused her attention on the instrument displays in front of her.

“Geo-Sync?” Milla asked when she managed to get Savoy’s attention.

He responded over the radio link, still examining her equipment along with his own. “Geo-Synchronous orbit. She’s getting us in position for insertion.”

“Ah…” Milla responded, her tone making it quite clear that she had little idea of what he meant. Savoy didn’t take the hint; he just finished checking her suit and equipment and then bent to his own equipment with cool professionalism. Milla let it drop.

Lieutenant Savoy looked around at everyone, noting that some of the faces were still visible within their armored helmets. “Combat standards, people.”

Milla blinked at the odd words, glancing up just in time to see the clear face plates of the armor soldiers around her suddenly shift and blacken, until she was looking at a rank of faceless men in alien armor.

“You too,” Savoy said, turning to her.

“H… how?” Milla asked in confusion.

“It’s not difficult,” he told her, opening his tactical network HUD, as he did.

Milla jumped suddenly as a bank of lights and diagrams lit up inside her helmet, following the sweep of her eyes.

“Calm down,” Savoy instructed her, “Watch the center of the screen. You see the highlighted square? It’s red.”

“Y… yes, I see it…”

“Eyeball the screen, watch for movement.”

Milla did as he told her and watched as the square turned blue, and another beside it turned red.

“Third square over… the one with the picture of a shield.”

“S… shield?”

Savoy sighed. “The blue thing with the white star. Highlight that square.”

“O… ok.” She said when she had done it.

“Say ‘activate’.”

Milla spoke hesitantly, “Activate.”

To her nothing seemed to change, except that the pictures suddenly grew smaller and lined the bottom of her ‘screen’, but to Savoy her face was suddenly hidden behind the flat black of her molecular armored faceplate, as it shifted its molecular structure to prevent the transmission of any electromagnetic frequency.

Similar to, though less sophisticated and versatile than the Cam-Plate armor technology that protected the Odyssey and the Archangels, the personal armor used faceplates designed from a hardened transparent aluminium, originally created for the windscreens of military Hummer assault vehicles.

Since then the material had been improved several times, with nanoscopic level upgrades, allowing it to change its molecular structure between a default ‘clear’ mode and a laser resistant ‘opaque’ mode that required a constant power feed to maintain.

The power trickle was minute, but its requirement kept soldiers from being totally blinded on the field if, for one reason or another, they found themselves without power.

“Green in sixty!” The pilot announced. “Lock down in five! We’ve got enemy fighters inbound! Prepare for combat maneuvering!”

Five seconds later, the large hatch between the command deck and the troop section slid shut, sealing tightly. Milla jumped at the loud, metallic clang that echoed even through her suit. Around her, the troops snapped to their feet, or as close to it as they could manage in zero-G.

“Snap in, boyos!” Savoy yelled over the common tac-frequency. “I’m blowing the hatch!”

A soldier beside her grabbed a safety line from her belt and clipped her onto an overhead railing before doing the same to himself. “Hold on.” He said, not unkindly.

Milla nodded inside her suit, not realizing that even if the soldier had stopped to wait for confirmation he wouldn’t have been able to see her moment inside her helmet. She wrapped her hands tightly around a rail that ran along the wall.
Now what?
She wondered to herself as Savoy tapped a code into a panel.

Suddenly the hatch blew, exposing the interior of the shuttle to the hard vacuum of space. Milla felt the tug of the explosive decompression pull at her, trying to pull her armored form into the depths of space, and tightened her grip even more. “Are you people mad?” She demanded, in shock.

A group of chuckles floated back across the tac-channels,

“Mad? Naw… just crazy.”

“We’re worse lady, we’re spec-ops.”

“Ya know, I’ve been wondering the same thing ever since I signed up…, pretty smart chick, to get us pegged so quick.”

“Awright cut that out!” Savoy ordered tersely. “Playtime is now OVER!”

Savoy looped himself back toward where Milla was holding onto the wall, as if her life depended on it. “You can relax now. Decompression is over, and your suit’s integrity is rated to several hours in hard vacuum.”

Milla glared at him from behind her mirrored visor, again not realizing that he couldn’t see it. Savoy chuckled however; he had years of reading emotions through the way a soldier held themselves in their suit. “If you’re pissed now, you’re gonna be ready to kill me, when I tell ya what comes next.”

*****