Fight For Earth: Part 1


By: Jackie W. Riley

Battle fleet Gamma, hung in space, it's numbers much smaller than when they had come here some two and a half years ago. Still a large force, it had taken many casualties in the ongoing war against the Cignarians. Commanders and comrades had died, both sorely missed. These were people bred for battle. A battle for home. For their very existence. The Cignarians were well known for taking no prisoners, and their goal was Earth.

The Flagship, the Shanendoea hung peacefully about forty-five parsecs from the Cignarian battle group, forefront in this fight, she would guard the other ships as they made repairs the best they could, because there would be no reinforcements. Earths resources were bled dry. Some speculated that now that general populace knew about the war, that money, men, and ships would be forthcoming. The veterans knew better. Earth had always been, and would most likely always be, isolationist. And two years was a short time for it's citizens, that had been kept in the dark, to take a sudden and overwhelming interest in their own survival.

A ship, approximately a quarter of the size of the Shannondoea, slowed as she approached, her hull, streaked with burns, and pockmarked with lucky misses. Derinda sighed as she let the bridge take over piloting them into the hangar bay. She was dead tired. Glancing behind her, she saw Captain Troix asleep in the command chair and smiled slightly. He had the right idea, though, try as she might, she could never sleep while a mission was still ongoing, and until they had cut engines, and were safely ensconced inside their cradle aboard the ship, she would remain awake. That was what Exo's did. She had served six years on a Navy battleship in the mideast before she had been recruited to fight among the stars. She had gone willingly. Not a thought given as to what it would mean in the long run, though she seemed to have more and more time to think about that these days.

The Cignarians were playing a waiting game. God, but they learned quickly. It had been almost a month now, and she still didn't feel right in the pilots seat. She was a co-pilot, Dearbourne had been the one that had belonged in this seat. Derinda pulled her hands from the controls and rubbed the slender, long fingered didgets over a pale face. She was tired, in soul and body. Tired of fighting an enemy that was always one step ahead of them. Tired of fighting last minute desperate battles, and then sitting dunsle for weeks on end.

This had turned from a fight of military might, to one of psychological one-upmanship. And no news from home for eighteen months hadn't improved anyone's morale any either.

Ansley broke into her thoughts, his thick Kentucky twang jolting her from her morbid musings. "So how long before that planet killing thing jumps for earth?"

"I have no idea, Ansley, and there's no use driving yourself crazy speculating. That's Commands job."

"You look like the fourth day on a three day leave, if you don't mind me saying, Commander."

"No, I don't mind, Lieutenant. I feel it. And to tell you the truth, i could use leave. In a bad way."

"So could everyone else." A new voice interjected. "Everyone is running on empty.

"Derinda looked behind her at the woman, who lounged against the doorway, looking dusty and disgruntled. "Not much that can be done, Doctor, unless you want to recommend leave on a Cignari cruiser." Her lips stretched in a humorless smile.

"Don't know, might be fun!" A voice yelled from the back.

"Only you would think that, Rainart!" Derinda yelled back, a real smile gracing her pale, aesthetic features. The rest chuckled or smiled as the whim took them, and the mood lightened some.

"Don't know about any of you, but I could go for a month on Maui." Came a sleepy voice from the center chair. "Sun, sand, leis. Of both kinds." He grinned, his dark blue eyes only half open, and the rest of the flight crew lost it.

Tensions eased as the bridge of the Shannondoea called approach, and they landed with a thump and jiggle in the Salvations docking cradle. People filed out. First the Jump Marines, with their huge, robotic assisted suits, then the Marine special forces team. The last to leave the ship, were the crew of Rescue Deployment Force. Otherwise known as the Fallen Angles. People began scattering.

"Just a minute, folks!" Troix bellowed. People stooped, steps away from escape. "Debriefing at 1200! Be there or I come find you myself! You don't want that." He finished in a quieter voice. There were groans and good natured insults directed his way, but everyone would be there. The crew would follow Troix into a nova if that's what it called for. Derinda leaned against the hull of the ship, practically asleep on her feet." Deri, why aren't you in bed? Do I have to make that an order too?" He asked with one of his crooked smiles.

Derinda opened her eyes. "I'm going.... in a few." Her eyes slited, she watched the Cat Crews coming from their hiding places to swarm toward the Salvation. "How soon before we go out again?"

Troix ran his hand through his dark hair. Already going gray at the temples, and he was only twenty-nine. "I-" He was cut off by the a shrill whistle coming from the ships speakers.

"Captain Troix, report to the bridge. Captain Troix, report to the bridge." The intercom shut off with a snap like popping bacon. The two of them looked at each other, somber, but wry expressions on their face.

"I think you just got your answer. Get what sleep you can. I'll wake you as soon as I know anything."

Derinda nodded, pushing herself off the ship and making her way quickly toward one of the exits as Troix headed toward the lift. She was asleep in five minutes. But it wasn't pleasant dreams. She could hold back most of them through sheer force of will, but her reserves were too low. Her willpower shot....

The cold hit her first. Dry, and painfully biting. Another planet. Another rescue mission. They'd given them the name during the briefing, but damned if she could remember it now. She pulled her parka and mask more firmly on her as she stood on the drop doors, looking at the complex. It had been a research complex. Like there were any other kind. This planet though, boasted a military complex also. Fat lot of good it did them. It would make a lovely swimming pool at this point.

"Okay. Dearbourne, Kelly!" Troix bellowed, pointing at the pilot and the doctor. "You stay on board! Same with you Rainart!"

"Aw, man! How come?!"

"Because I said so! Any more questions?" He looked up into the gunners bubble where Rainart slouched.

"No sir." He mumbled and batted at the fuzzy, puke green dice he'd hung in there.

"Good. Let's move out. Dearbourne, keep us informed if the Cigs move." "You got it, chief." He said in his soft precise voice.

Derinda always marveled that such a mellifluous voice could come from that ebony skinned behemoth.

"Let's move it out!"

They stepped out into gale force winds. Derinda had almost forgotten about them, her mind shutting out the moaning of the wind as it whipped past the ships opening. "Single file people." Came Troix's voice over the headsets. They lined up expertly, their weapons slung over shoulders and gripped tightly as they double timed it as best they could toward the facility, the Special Forces team ranged out alongside them. The Jump Marines were already in the air.

They made it to the relative safety of the entrance and Brown moved up, his equipment already in his hands as he worked on opening the blast door. He fiddled with it a few moments, as the others chatted in near whispers. Suddenly Brown cursed. "It's jammed, Cap!"

"Un jam it lieutenant."

"I'll try!"

"Captain." Came Dearbournes voice over the headsets.

"I'm here."

"You have mabey five minutes to get that door open. We have movement."

"Tell Rainart to set up suppressing fire as soon as they come into view."

"Roger."

"Brown, you have three minutes to get that door open." The captain looked at the man.

"Three minutes? I don't think I could get it with three YEARS! Half the locking mechanism has been replaced with that bio-organic shit the cigs use! I can't touch it!"

"Shit." Troix cursed. Okay. Burnes?" He looked at the sergeant major in charge of the special forces team. "Blow the thing."

The man grinned behind his face mask." Yes sir! Taylor! Get your ass over hear and open us a way in!" The woman hurried up and began pulling things from her satchel.

"Captain," came Dearbournes voice again, an island of calm. "They are coming up on your left flank, using the building for cover."

Troix stuck his head around the corner and pulled it back quickly enough to send his helmet sliding along his head as a blast of light, blew away a corner of the building.

"RAINART! Get those GUNS going!"

"I'm tryin, i'm tryin!"

"Don't try, DO!"

His answer was the piercing whine of the quad, turreted, lasers blasting up snow and dirt. Troix turned to Taylor just as she looked up at him.

She nodded. "Okay! take cover!"

People scattered, moving away from the door and the blast radius, taking cover as they fired back at the suited enemy that were advancing quickly.

There was tremendous, teeth rattling, ear shattering explosion, and for an instant, everyone was warm as a wave of heat and debris washed over them gently.

Taylor ran over to the smoking hole and cursed. "Captain. We have a problem."

"Please... please don't tell me that. WHAT problem?!" He fired a single shot, taking down a suited trooper.

"Um, there's this.... hell, I don't know what the hell you'd call it. It looks like the covering on a drum only it's green and has veins."

"FUCK!" He jumped to his feet as Derinda covered him. He ran over and stopped, looking at it. Thick, but semi-transparent, it was a wide circular covering of something that was living. More of the Cigs bio-shit. "Blow this too. And HURRY."

"Yes sir." She again pulled equipment out and set to work.

"Jesus christ, Rainart!" Derinda yelled into her mic as one of the cigs shots spattered dirt in her face. "Are you sitting on your fucking thumbs?! Shoot something!" The turret swung her direction and knocked three cigs off their feet, smoking. "Cap, we are pinned, we have to get the door open."

"We are working on it, commander." He said tightly.

Derinda sighed, knowing he wasn't happy with her. He always used her rank whenever he wasn't happy. She continued to pick off cigs then yelled with happy surprise as she saw one of the cig explode as a jump marine flew down through where he'd stood.

Troix came running back and skidded flat, next to her just as another explosion rocked the area. he glanced back at the smoke that filled the area a second before the winds tore it apart. The barrier still stood.

"Okay, listen up. We head back to the ship. Strafe 'em from the air. Jump marines? Cover us."

"Roger, captain." The jump marine commander said.

The rest of the crew jumped to their feet and began dashing the two hundred yards to the ship.

Suddenly, everyone standing, was flattened to the ground as a roar like the planet itself were being ripped apart, drowned out every other sound. A resonance as if something or someone were using living bone as an instrument, rumbled over, around and inside everyone. As if they were many eyes connected to one being, they looked up to see a ship. Black as death, and spiny with weapons and sensor protrusions, gated into the atmosphere.

Concentric circles of brownish amber light spiraled from the vortex that took up half the horizon. A dark, gold light, washed over the ground and the people, below as everyone felt as if their skin were being peeled slowly from their bones. And then the feeling was gone, and the super sonic roar of the craft was all they heard.

Faintly, as if he were using tin cans and a string, derinda heard Troix's voice. "Get that ship off the ground, Dearbourne! get it off! Up in the air!" She looked over at him, and saw him punctuating his words with vicious upward jabs of his thumb. Without hesitation, the engines, which had been at idle this whole time, screamed into life, propelling the craft along the snow and a minute later, the stabilizing thrusters activated and the ship was airborne, wheeling like a gull to face the battle cruiser.

The covers on the missile pods had been removed, and Rainart was already firing. The blasts glanced harmlessly off of it's reinforced hull as it's forward guns coalesced with light and a beam, half as wide as the Redemption caught it broadside. With a flare and a skill that defied description, Dearbourne managed to show the cruiser it's flank instead of it's nose.

The result was just as devastating. The ship rocked on it's thrusters, explosions blooming like some horrible new flower along the armor. Derinda watched in fascinated horror, one of the engines flared, and then guttered out as the craft tilted on it's side as it lost altitude and crashed into the ground with the impact of doomsday. It's left wing crumpled underneath it as it continued it's slow roll, finally stopping on it's back as it continued to skid toward them. The scream of tortured metal was loud in everyone's ears, as a unit they jumped to their feet and ran as fast as their legs could carry them. Many were still struck by flying debris.

Finally silence settled like a shroud, the wind sounding no more loud than a breeze. People began picking themselves up. Those that could at least, to view the destruction of hope.....

END OF PART ONE

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