Foxtrot Angleterre
Blood and plasma burns dot her sides. Near her belly, which was ripped open by heaven knows what, ores float by like a cloud. Words in dull yellow Cyrillic stand against a gray background, indecipherable to me. Every so often a spacesuit can be seen drifting by, and I don't even want to know if there's bodies in them.
I time my thoughts to the thrumming of the engines. My thoughts are liquid like the starlight reflecting off my polished Perditor. They leap to what this mission could mean, what liquids the Perditor could spill.
They leap to the briefing in Lisboa by the Prime Minister himself.
"This is a mission of utmost importance, gentlemen."
He was wearing a red tie and a somber expression.
"You are the first line of defense of the entire system. Be ready for anything."
We stood at attention, in the battle uniforms of the Royal Stellar Force. Our rifles were out and shouldered.
"Six months ago, the Rhuskan mining vessel Myelkrasnaya radioed a Code 37. A Code 37, gentlemen."
In the event of a discovery of an unaccounted spacecraft (usually pirate or smuggler craft), Code 37 is to be broadcast on the AM frequency.
"Five minutes after that broadcast, they radioed a Code 38.
In the event of a discovery of an unidentifiable spacecraft, Code 38 is to be broadcast.
"Three minutes after that, they radioed a Code 39. This signal was much weaker than the first two, suggesting that their communication systems had been damaged."
In the event of hostile fire by an unidentified craft, Code 39 is to be broadcast.
"They were mining in the outer reaches of the Oort Cloud. The nearest human outpost is in orbit around Pluto, and it's a military installation. There is no possible way that this unidentified craft could be some custom-built marauder."
We nodded.
A minute after that, a message was broadcast in Rhuskan. Translated, it said 'Xristos take mercy on' and the rest is unintelligible."
We gulped.
"This is a matter of international security. We have been in contact with the Emeriquan Star Force, who have designated the use of their flagship Kyriakos Anastasia for this assignment. Even the Selenian Republic has agreed to send a platoon of soldiers for this."
We have been at war with the Selenian Republic over lunar mining rights for the past six years. If they were sending troops to fight alongside us, well, it couldn't be good.
"Gentlemen! God save the Queen!"
God save us all.
"God save the Queen!"
A thud. And then a metallic shriek.
"Is the lock secure?" I ask Lt. Moore.
"As secure as it'll get. Ready?"
"Let's do it."
The airlock opens, and we step inside. The air is drained away, leaving a vacuum. We open the outside.
You know that feeling you get when you're leaning over a cliff and you see all the way down and think "There's nothing between my head and that ground down there?" "Just empty space?" Now imagine you can't even see the other side, and the other side surrounds you completely except for a shuttlepod and a mining ship lying exposed like the carcass of a whale on a beach.
This is space.
My hands are clamped firmly to a handle on the airlock door as I look around.
The shuttlepod is connected to the Myelkrasnaya by means of a latching drill. So are about a dozen Royal Stellar Force, Emeriquan Star Force, and Republican Navy craft with similarly-armed soldiers getting ready to storm the miner. In the distance, we remember, is the Kyriakos Anastasia, solar sails pulled back.
Lieutenant Moore is busying himself with attaching one end of a nylon rope to the pod and the other to an auto-grappler. He's flying the grappler into a gash in the hull. All around us, our comrades-in-arms are doing the same thing.
"Kyriakos, this is Delta Selenia. We're good to go."
"Kyriakos to landing teams. Call in when ready."
"Foxtrot Angleterre ready."
"Bravo Emeriqua ready."
I am Foxtrot Angleterre Seven, by the way. My friends call me Steve. There's nine other guys in Foxtrot Angleterre.
The rest of the landing teams call in. Kyriakos orders us in.
I attach a clip on my left hand to the nylon rope, which has long since been secured. I kick off, six guys ahead of me and three behind.
I'm drifting in space, the only thing tying me to anything being a metal clip and a thin rope. The Perditor is in my right hand. On Earth, this thing would be too heavy to pick up. In space, it's merely bulky.
Delta Selenia has already penetrated the interior, and Bravo Emeriqua is hot on their heels.
"Delta to Bravo. Where are we?"
"Looks like food storage. The battle must have been quick."
"Why do you say?"
"This stuff's still fresh. Vacuum-sealed."
I'm so engrossed in their conversation that I don't realise that we're here already. I turn on my magnetic soles and look around. We're in the ore storage bay. Surrounding us are clouds or piles of dust, take your pick. My group is scattered across the room. Foxtrots One through Four have taken point at the door and in the nearby hallway. The rest of us are checking out the storage bay. I tune my radio to the Foxtrot frequency.
"Hey guys, look at this!" broadcasts Four.
"What is it?" Nine asks.
I kick the ceiling, propelling me over to Four. What I see in his hands is astonishing.
"It looks like some sort of probe," Six ventured.
What it looks like is some sort of robot bug, about three feet long. It has a long... tail, I guess; wings, and four 'legs'. It is built entirely out of an ironish-looking metal, except that it has this goldish-looking band around what I would call its head.
It's alive.
The tail thrusts itself at Four, breaking through his suit and stinging him. I take my Perditor and start firing round after round at it. I accomplish nothing other than getting it to swivel its head at me in interest.
It jumps off of Four's hands straight at me. I empty the clip at it, partially to hurt it and partially to push me away from it. The bullets dent its armor, but it looks fully operational. And angry. It looks totally angry, if a robot can be said to be angry.
"Charlie Selenia to all! We've found these robot arachnid things! We need backup!"
"Foxtrot Angleterre to all! We've met them too!"
Sounds of concentrated gunfire whine out of my radio. Every once in a while, I hear a scream.
"Delta Selenia to all! The bugs have us surrounded!"
"Hotel Emeriqua to all! Our bullets are bouncing off of them!"
This can't be good. It doesn't look good right here. I am swimming through piles of spacedust in a vain attempt to get away from this... thing. All of Foxtrot Angleterre except Four have taken point around it and is ready to fire. Four, for his part, is still alive but in absolute torture. He's fixing the hole that the bug put in his suit.
"Charlie Selenia to Delta Selenia! We see you and we're laying down cover fire from our shuttlepod! Get out of there and make room for us in Delta shuttle!"
I reload my gun as the bug stares me down.
"Seven! A wall behind you!" someone radioed. Craning my neck, I saw it. That wall means I can't go anywhere safe; I'll rebound and head straight for that bug. And then I'll wind up like Four. For all I know, Four's gonna be dead in a minute.
There were many, many things that I wanted to do before I die. Maybe I can yet do one.
"Kyriakos Anastasia to all teams! Pull out of the Myelkrasnaya immediately!"
"Xristos save me!" I shout, terrified, my radio turned off. "Save me from this thing! Save me save me save me! I swear I'll do anything!"
You know how people always say that in movies, when they're about to die they get all repentant and so forth? And if they live they forget about it? Insincere lying pricks.
If I live, I won't forget that I was crying scared and that for some reason, Xristos saved me.
I won't.
I rebound.
It cranes its head at me as I pass it.
Its tail doesn't move.
"One to Seven! What was that!?"
"A miracle if I've ever seen one! Let's get to the pod!"
However, three more bugs have emerged from the cloud since, and my comrades are fighting for their lives.
I grab the edge of a ceiling tile and push myself to the far wall, where I kick off toward the hull fissure where the rope is. Four is drifting near me, helpless. I grab him, cutting my speed in half. I look down at the raging retreat. It looks like five of them have been stung, while the other three are grabbing bodies and clearing out.
"Alpha Angleterre Three! The bugs ambushed us on the way back! We've all been stung!"
Eight grabs a bug by the tail and uses it as a weapon to smash into the other bugs. Five picks up the cue and does the same, this time flinging it away towards the far wall.
We latch onto the nylon cord and I push Four towards the shuttlepod. Then I do the unthinkable and dive back in to grab the others.
"Kyriakos Anastasia to all! Who's made it to the shuttlepods yet!?"
Two has been stung, and now only Five and Eight are holding out. The rest are feebly trying to get to the rope. I start tossing them towards the rope, using my throw to push me to the next. I try to stay clear of the bugs, although it seems that they're concentrating on Five and Eight.
"This is Echo Emeriqua! We've detached!"
Five bats a bug back, and then takes the bug he has in hand and tosses it away. We make a hasty retreat to the shuttlepod, sending the stung up the line first.
"Kyriakos Anastasia to any nearby vessels! An unidentified craft has just dropped out of cloak! It looks like some kind of comet with engines!"
Great. The mothership has arrived.
"They're opening fire!"
We're all in and we've unscrewed the latching drill. In the distance out the other window, Kyriakos and the other ship are exchanging salvos. It looks bad for Kyriakos.
"Foxtrot Angleterre underway!" Five reports as our retros fire up.
"Kyriakos to all! Do not approach the ship! We have taken damage!"
"Golf Angleterre is away!"
"Bravo Emeriqua Nine to Kyriakos! We think we have a plan to extricate you!"
"Hurry it up! We can't take another five minutes of this!"
Myelkrasnaya is receding into the distance.
"I've met up with the remnant of Charlie and Delta Selenia, and we're on the bridge! We're gonna try to activate the mining laser and distract them while you get away!"
"Foxtrot Angleterre Seven to Bravo, Charlie and Delta! You're crazy!"
"Someone has to warn Earth! Just shut up and get ready on our mark!"
Lights turned on onboard the Myelkrasnaya as she turned, exposing her belly to the alien ship. Suddenly, a bright flash caused sparks to flare around the alien ship. Apparently they have shields as well.
A metallic clang signified our docking on the underside of the Kyriakos Anastasia. Nine of the original twelve landing teams had made it back with Bravo Emeriqua, Charlie Selenia and Delta Selenia running a suicide mission on a doomed Rhuskan miner.
Kyriakos began a turn and went to battle sail, tacking against the solar radiation in an effort to get away.
I take a long hard look at my Perditor and I realize that Earth is in for the fight of her life.