Project - Prometheus Ch. 27
The captain was a big man, standing at six feet in height, and was heavily built. He didn't have an ounce of fat on him, but was just... big. His salt and pepper hair was cut long enough to style, but short enough where people took him seriously. His dark brown eyes carried a level of seriousness in them, but also a sense of humor. His features were a blend of European and Mediterranean, which was what made him handsome.
Karl served in the Federation military for over twenty years, rising to the rank of Major in the Army, before he opted for early retirement. The soldier had become tired of seeing his friends die when off on various missions. He was a Spec Ops soldier, one of the best, and the Federation had been sad to see him go. It turns out, though, that fate had other plans for him.
About a year into his retirement, he was offered the job here on Veldhern. It was a far cry from the life he'd known, much cushier than what he was used to. Karl didn't mind this, as he knew that any potential friends here at work had a much lower chance of dying on his watch. He'd made some friends and finally felt like he wouldn't have to worry about them whenever they were off on patrol.
The thing that had changed his life the most was meeting Bianca Hamilton. Bianca was a doctor with one of the pharmaceutical firms and a trauma surgeon that had set up shop on Veldhern station. They'd met after one of the rare pirate planetfall attacks, where several of his men had been seriously wounded. She was the one who'd looked after them and saw to their speedy recovery.
It was afterwards, when he'd had some free time, that he'd gotten up the courage to ask her out to dinner. She'd turned him down, thinking it was a romantic gesture, as she wasn't interested in seeing anyone. But Bianca changed her mind when he told her it was merely for her saving the lives of his men. Karl had no idea that night would be the one that would forever change both of their fates.
It was during dinner, while they were chatting, that Bianca had warmed up to him considerably. She was leery of the dinner, as many men had tried to get into her pants, as she was not only stunning, but wealthy. Karl had no interest in her money, as he was making four times what he'd made as a Spec Ops soldier in the Federation. That night had ended with her giving him a kiss, without him having to ask for one.
Shortly after, they'd started seeing each other regularly. With how things were developing between them, it wasn't long until Karl proposed and this time, she'd said yes. That had been two years ago, and now Karl had a proper family. Bianca was his wife, with their twin daughters, Lisette and Lynessa and a son on the way. He smiled to himself as he brought his mind back to the task at hand.
"Distance to target?" his stern baritone voice called out.
"One kilometer, sir!" the radar tech replied.
"Half pace, guns up and stay alert!" he commanded.
Though it was rare that any unauthorized craft got to Veldhern's surface, he had trained his men and women relentlessly. Just because they had a straightforward job didn't give them any reason to slack on their training. Karl's constant exercises and drills that he ran had brought the unit together as a tight-knit group. Some had complained, but they didn't last long. Those who stayed soon saw the results of their training, after their first firefight.
Not a single soldier had been lost that day, when a pirate destroyer had entered the atmosphere, attempting to bombard the villas. His team had intercepted the destroyer, boarded it and in a matter of minutes, had assumed control by storming the bridge. The pirates they had faced were brutal, but sloppy and undisciplined. Such sloth in face of true adversity saw many of them wind up as corpses.
After they had taken the bridge, they'd brough the destroyer down to the planet's surface and systematically cleared it. Once the ship was clean, it was sent to drydock, refitted and pressed into service for the second fleet. That bit of effort saw Karl's pay go up substantially, and he wondered how this encounter would go.
They were less than five hundred meters from the ship, as its shadow loomed over them. Every soldier spread out in groups of three, fanning out to search for survivors. Though they were only at half strength, Karl thought it prudent to leave the other of his force behind. Keeping the vacationers and investors safe was top priority, and he didn't want them to only have a token force defending them.
"Deploy drones for thermal scans," he commanded, speaking into the mic at his collar.
The wreckage was in sight, and it appeared the hull of the destroyer was in decent shape. It was bent slightly and had hull ruptures across its surface, but that wasn't anything that some time in dry dock couldn't fix. There were also a few fires burning, but most of those were of some plants and foliage getting caught in the intense heat of the ship's hull.
"Thermal scans show negative for any hostile contacts outside of the ship. They must be waiting inside," Lieutenant Torres replied, keeping him in the loop.
"Switch the drones' scans to visual and audio. I want every inch of this ship covered when we breach," he told her.
"Yes, sir!" the Lieutenant responded, delegating the order to the rest of them.
"Sir, I believe we have a way in!" one of the fresh recruits called out.
Captain Fitch moved over to the man, with his own squad right behind him. He glanced over at the crash site and smiled. Everyone had done their sweeps admirably, taking positions so none of them could be ambushed or isolated. He stepped lively, making it to the young man's team, which was positioned by a breach in the hull. It was large enough for a man to walk through, but only just.
"Good find, rook! Drone recon?" Fitch asked.
"Negative contacts, sir. It appears that the crew died on impact," the young man stated, showing his captain the readout. There were corpses strewn about the deck, with none of them moving in the slightest. A quick thermal scan showed their bodies were rapidly cooling, meaning that none of them were alive.
"OK. Three teams in, I'll lead, and everyone stay close. All other teams secure the perimeter. Lieutenant Torres set it up," he ordered, before raising his assault rifle and walking inside.
"Yes, sir!" she replied, before barking orders for the remaining teams to establish a perimeter.
Karl couldn't help but smile to himself, as he remembered what it was like to be a young soldier. The Latina had a lot of fire within her, a fact that made her something of a desirable woman for most of the men. Many of them were disappointed to learn that she was married to two men and had no interest in adding a third. Still, it didn't stop them from fantasizing about her, which was allowed, as long as no one acted on it.
The nine men kept together, keeping their heads clear and eyes open, looking for any sort of trap. The drones moved ahead of them, keeping them informed of what lay ahead. So far, it was nothing but exposed wires, battered paneling, and pirate corpses. Because of this, they stayed relaxed, but didn't let their guard down.
Before long, the three squads made it to the bridge, taking in the scene of carnage that lay within. Blood, gore and viscera was splattered everywhere, with most consoles either off or sparking. There were a few of them that were still working, as the bridge itself looked like it had almost been bent in half. The team moved carefully, not wanting to slide down into the other half of the room.
"Powell, what have you got?" Fitch asked his tech and one of his squad members.
"So far, it seems like there few systems still online. Let me check and I can give you a proper damage assessment," the man replied, seating himself at the console. He tapped a few sequences and brought up the diagnostics of the ship, before his eyes widened.
"Sir, we need to get the fuck out of here!" the man shouted, jumping to his feet.
"What is it?" he called, following on the man's heels.
"They have set the reactor to blow! We have five minutes to evac the site!" he shouted back, finding his way through the corridors to the exit.
"Lieutenant, break the perimeter and evac! The ship is gonna blow!" Karl shouted into his mic.
"Copy that!" the woman replied, issuing orders to clear the area. It was maybe two minutes before the squads cleared the ship, trying to catch up to their fellow soldiers. Another three before they saw their figures, moving behind a rocky outcropping, trying to take shelter. Mere seconds after they reached the rocks is when the deafening explosion came, darkening the sight of the security teams.
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Dorian Johnson watched as the destroyer detonated, likely taking the whole security response force with it. He smiled sadistically, knowing that any, and every life taken by the explosion would be one less that he and his men had to fight.
"Think we got them boss?" one of his cronies asked.
"Fairly certain that we did. Places like this are hotspots for people who don't take their jobs seriously," the cruel man laughed. "Just in case anyone survived that, take a team and set up in whatever rock formations or cover you can find. Don't need some angry, self-righteous assholes coming at us from behind."
"Always hated self-righteous fucks," the goon muttered.
"As have I. Too many damned rules to fucking well follow!" Dorian agreed.
"Here's to the rest of them going like lambs!" the pirate stated, toasting with a flask he brought out.
Dorian snatched it from the man's hand and took a quick swig. It was whisky, maybe close to the proper age of twelve years. It had a nice smoothness to it that Dorian enjoyed, which prompted him to take another swig. He then handed the flask back to the man, letting him have the rest.
"Yes, may the rest of them go so easily!" Dorian replied with a chilly laugh. The goon stood there, shuddering involuntarily. He knew he shouldn't have signed up with this group. Taking a deep breath, he finished his flask, hefted his gun and followed his boss, hoping that he'd stay in a pleasant mood.
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The explosion of the destroyer wracked the entire security force, knocking any who were still standing off their feet. They'd gotten far enough away from the ship when it went up, but they could still feel the heat of the blast. Debris from the vessel sailed by and smashed into several of the soldiers who weren't fast enough to get out of the way. The explosion happened in the span of several seconds but felt like a lifetime for them.
"Is everyone OK?" Karl called out, a little singed, but still in one piece after the blast. He wasn't quick enough to get behind any cover and was knocked off his feet, but he fared all right.
"Si... sir..." a weak voice called out. The captain glanced in the voice's direction and his face flew from relieved to horrified in a second.
"MEDIC!" he shouted, racing to Powell's side. The man had caught a lengthy piece of shrapnel in his back and it pierced him right through. Blood was flowing freely from the wound as the big man rushed to staunch the bleeding.
"Sir!" he heard a voice call to him. His head snapping up, Karl saw Remus, their Fel'caan medic, rush up to him. Diving into his kit, he stemmed the flow of blood and got to work patching Powell up.
"Is he going to make it?" Captain Fitch asked., fearing for his friend's life.
"It punctured his right lung, and he's lost a lot of blood," the medic told him, as he took a quick readout of Powell's blood. "Anyone here got a few pints of blood to spare?"
"Don't you need a specific blood type?" Fitch asked.
"Not with Powell. He's damned lucky that he's an AB positive blood type. A universal recipient," Remus told his captain.
"I'm O positive. Tap me for a pint," Karl commanded.
Remus nodded and sterilized Karl's inner elbow joint, before inserting a needle. Attaching a tube and a blood bag, Remus had Karl stand, so he could get a good flow of blood into the bag. Having done this procedure before in the field, Fitch had a couple of his soldiers hold him upright, until Remus got enough blood. Once that was done, the soldiers helped Karl sit, and he dug into the rations he had to help replenish the blood he gave.
"How many pints do you need?" one of the other soldiers asked. It was the rookie who'd found the way into the destroyer.
"Four, to be safe. Any blood-borne diseases or issues with your blood?" Remus asked.
"The doc cleared me for active duty two days ago, after my results came back clean," the rookie replied.
"You'll do for a pint," Remus replied, before setting the boy up, putting him through the same procedure as the captain had.
"Is he going to make it?" Karl repeated, posing the question to the medic.
"Too early to tell, but if we can get him to the clinic here, he should pull through. I'll need to stay with him and Jones, along with a couple of others who weren't as lucky," Remus stated.
"What happened to Jones?" Captain Fitch asked, curious about the man's fate.
"Took several shards to his leg, most punching through his femur and tibia. He's out of combat until we can fix his leg," Remus replied.
"Damn it! Any fatalities?" Fitch asked.
"Surprisingly, no. Jones and Powell got the worst of it and most of the squads were far enough away to avoid any serious damage. Most are headed back to help just now, sir," Remus informed him.
Sure enough, after a few minutes, other squads who'd gone with him to secure the destroyer had shown up. They were helping those who were wounded to find comfortable places to lie down, while they checked in with their friends. Captain Fitch smiled, as he was glad to see his soldiers moving with direction and purpose, as he taught them to. Having finished his rations, Fitch got back to his feet and called out to everyone.
"All right people, these fuckers hit us, but we're not out yet! Remus, you, your squad and Sergeant Markov's squad will stay put to keep you guys safe. Everyone else on me! Double time it back to the villas!" Fitch barked.
"Sir? Reinforcements?" Lieutenant Torres questioned, keeping pace with her CO.
"We'll need them! If these pirates were smart enough to lay out a trap for us, they'll probably be prepared for other scenarios. Get those extra teams down here, on the double!" the Security Captain ordered.
"Veldhern station, do you copy? Veldhern station, this is Lieutenant Torres. Come in please," she called into her comms unit.
"We read you, Lieutenant Torres. What's the situation?" came the response.
"Thank God! We were investigating a downed pirate ship when we realized it was a trap. We got clear, but some of our number were wounded. Planetside security will need some reinforcements, as the number of hostiles is unknown. Damn pirates are probably headed after the civilians!" Torres growled.
"Understood Lieutenant! Those reinforcements have already scrambled and are inbound to the planet. ETA fifteen minutes! They'll drop in at the villas!" the controller replied on the other side. Torres thanked the controller before she cut the line. She only prayed to God that they'd get to the villas before the pirates did.
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"I suppose that you'll want that carrier for your own fleet," Saubath commented to Williams.
"Damn straight! I've been waiting on a carrier for a while now! My order keeps getting pushed back, and it's been pissing me off!" Ana growled.
"That is odd, considering your position here, as commander of the Second Fleet, is needed. You'd think the Federation would be more liberal with granting your request in a timely manner," Arcann agreed.
"I swear, it's almost like someone-"
"Pardon me, Commodores, but there is something urgent that you need to be aware of," a comms transmission interrupted.
"What is it?" Ana wondered, sounding bored.
"A pirate destroyer has crash landed on Veldhern," the operator started.
"WHAT?!?"
"Security forces were inbound on the target right after it finished its flightpath, but were hampered. The pirates jury-rigged the destroyer as an explosive. The teams sent were hurt, some wounded, but no casualties," the operator reported.
"Were they ambushed?" Saubath wondered, worried for the soldiers.
"No, sir. It appears the pirates set their core for a timed detonation. If they didn't have someone inspect the systems, the trap would have wiped out half the planetside security team. Captain Fitch and what personnel he could muster are double timing it back to the villas," the operator replied.
"Have landing teams been scrambled?" Williams questioned.
"Aye, ma'am. They're in their pods and ready to drop. Oh, and ma'am, you asked me to monitor the crew of the Darkstrider?" the operator reminded her.
"Yes?"
"They've just cleared the port and are headed for the planet. The ship has been warned to not go to the planet, and we've threatened lethal force. They've ignored our warnings and have outrun the pursuing ships. They're coming through the atmosphere now," he told them.
"Damn it! They must have crew on the ground. They wouldn't risk breaking protocol if it wasn't important to them. Thank you, Stern. Command out," she said, before she killed the line.
"You're having the crew of the Darkstrider watched? Why?" Commodore Saubath questioned, suspicious of Ana's motives.
"The crew of that ship knows far more than they're letting on about certain things. Especially that man who claims to be their tactical officer," she told him.
"Alexander Dragic? Why?" Saubath asked.
"My intuition is telling something more is afoot with that group. I aim to find out what."
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The visitors to the Veldhern Villas and beaches were sitting in one of the restaurants there. The crew members of the Darkstrider were there, having been rounded up with the rest of the tourists. There was some sort of security precaution, which the guards weren't speaking about. It must have been serious, or they wouldn't have had their weapons at the ready.
Shazza felt uneasy, as she could sense that something was amiss. It wasn't just her women's intuition that was warning her either. She could feel something... dark... on the horizon, like it was something she should be familiar with. Whatever it was, she could sense that it was drawing nearer to them. She'd seen the destroyer crash, as had everyone else, and she wondered who it was that was aboard the ship.
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"Sergeant Deak, come in! Sergeant Deak, come in please!" a call came in on the radio.
"Sergeant Deak here. What is it captain?" the man asked, speaking into his ear comms.
"Investigative patrol has been hit. Repeat, we've been hit! We have wounded but no casualties!" Captain Fitch told him over the line.
"Pirate numbers? Say the word sir and we'll scramble to your location!" the sergeant told him.
"Negative. Protect those civilians! Our wounded are stable and we're double timing it to your position! In the meantime-fuck! Everyone get down!" came the frantic call.
"Sir? Captain? Captain Fitch, do you copy?!?" the sergeant hollered, trying to raise his CO.
"Just got hit by an ambush! Fucking pirates were waiting! Stay frosty! We've put the call in for reinforcements! ETA on their arrival is ten minutes!" the captain shouted back, before the sound of gunfire came in over the link.
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