Condition Zero, page 10
part #6 of The Earth Saga Series
“Thor!”
She was rushing around the small house, backpack in hand, filling it with everything she thought was of value and critical to her survival.
39-Maputo
The gunfire was deafening.
Shakil was in the Polana’s main lobby, lying flat on his stomach, hands over his head. His brown eyes were locked on the body of a dead soldier who was laying just two metres away in a pool of blood.
All around him figures were dashing about. Some hunched over as they ran, others down on the ground, crawling along. The shooting was going both ways, and while Shakil wasn’t sure who was firing into the hotel, he suspected it wasn’t the police, they didn’t have the firepower for the concentration of fire that was peppering the front of the hotel.
Looking to his rear, he locked his eyes on the concierge desk and crawled over to it as fast as possible. It was set far enough back in the lobby that it couldn’t receive direct fire from the street.
After waiting no more than a few seconds behind cover, LTC Nyussi crawled up next to him, helmet on, tactical vest on, rifle at the ready.
“Shakil.”
The frightened boy looked at the seasoned soldier.
“It is starting to fall apart.” Nyussi looked around to the front of the hotel, then back at Shakil. “Go to your room and grab your most precious items. Then wait by the north service entrance.” He grabbed Shakil’s arm. “If you do not hear from me, trust no one other than my men.” He released his grasp, checked his position, then dashed off.
“Droga.” Shakil said.
40-Fris
“She’s dead.” Nikki Hoskins said in a dry voice.
Steven Edwards was standing over the lifeless body of Sam Copperbottom.
“She was a stunner.” Remarked Henry Humphries.
“Some respect.” Nikki shot at the fireman.
“Sorry darling, but she was a stripper.” Henry replied.
“How did she die?” Vara Vara asked, a concerned look on his face. “Anamei will not like this.” He rubbed his chin. “And I doubt that the Basurvya family will like it either.
Nikki rose to her feet, whipping the blood from her hands with a rag. “Well, my medical opinion is that she slit her wrists.”
Steven bent down and checked the wounds on the dead girl. “Yeah.” He nodded. “Pretty jagged cut.”
“She used one of the knives from the dining area.” Nikki continued. “I supposed even a few days of slavery was too much for her.”
“This was an unwise course of action.” Vara Vara said. “You will have to meet the same work quota, even with her death.”
“Balls.” The Aboriginal maths teacher blurted out. “No more topping yourselves!” He barked at the other Australians that were milling around their sleeping quarters.
Ten minutes after Vara Vara disappeared, Anamei arrived with two service droids.
“What will you do with her body?” Nikki asked.
Anamei looked at the corpse in the arms of one of the medical droids. “The Basurvya family has ordered an autopsy.” He looked at the humans. “After that, I do not know.”
“Can we bury her?” Asked Alice Ito.
“Bury?” Anamei asked.
“Put in the ground, in a ceremony.” Steven replied.
Anamei shook his head. “Doubtful. The masters don’t like to waste anything.”
“Meaning?” Nikki asked.
“Meaning they will find a use for the body.” Anamei replied.
“Like what?” Nikki pressed.
Steven put his hand up and looked at his girlfriend. “I don’t think we need to know.” He locked eyes with Nikki. “Probably for the best.”
“Yes.” Anamei agreed. “Now prepare yourselves for your day’s work.”
Steven watched the tall figure leave with the two droids and Sam’s body. He wasn’t surprised that someone had killed themselves, but he was astonished that it had taken so long. He looked around the room at his fellow captives. Sam Copperbottom wasn’t going to be the last casualty on this planet, and that was troubling. It was still early days, but he needed to plan. To think of a way off the water-logged slave world they were on. There had to be a way.
41-Earth Orbit
Varus checked the systems on the Black Team droids, then put on his armour. If he was going to take the ship and the fleet from Sajoba, several things would have to go his way. Speed and surprise were of the utmost importance, at the same time, he couldn’t risk killing any members of the crew. The Coalition trained the members of the fleet to obey the senior officer aboard ship, but that trust and fear of the commander would be cancelled out if his bots killed those that were just doing their jobs.
The other risk that Varus had was that once he took the ship, that the rest of the commanders in the fleet wouldn’t follow his direction. The Lone Hunter was by far the most powerful ship in the fleet and could probably take on all the other ships if pressed, but Varus needed a smooth transition of power. Take it away from the madman Sajoba, then calm things down in the system.
Once his armour was on, he looked at the lead droid. “I want a path to the bridge. Zero casualties.”
“Affirmative.” The machine replied in a lifeless tone.
“Let’s go.”
42-The Seven
“We are at Condition Zero, ready to attack.” Ship Master Yakari reported.
“Send the second transmission to Earth.” Colonel Hunt said, hands on his hips.
The communications tech started typing at his station, preparing the coded message for Earth.
“Yippee-ki-yay.” The tech read out.
Joe smiled. “Send it.”
“Transmission sent.” The tech replied.
“Start the clock.” Admiral Taark ordered, then looked at Joe. “What does that expression even mean?”
Joe smiled. “It’s a long story, but I’ll fill you in once we’ve taken back the Earth.”
Taking a deep breath, Joe looked over to the navigation station where the techs were prepping for departure. Now it was all down to Doctor Keegan Beck, a handful of Alliance troopers on the ground and the First Infantry Division to get the planetary shield down.
“The clock is running!” The tech at the navigation station shouted.
Looking around the bridge, Joe saw a myriad of expressions. The more senior the member of the crew, the calmer they looked. A few of the junior crewmen looked apprehensive.
Joe looked over to Admiral Taark. “Now we just need the boys of the ground to do their job.
43-Epsilon
Ship Master Ranix was sitting in his command chair on a bridge that felt nearly deserted. It had been enlarged during a refit to accommodate the Terrans, but with none of the Visitor Liaison Team on board, it felt empty.
“Yuli, are we set for the jump to the Sol system?”
The navigator checked her screens. “Ready to jump.”
“Hiks?”
“Communications are up and secure with the fleet.” The Communications Officer and second in command of the ship replied.
“Weapons?”
Gunner First Class Curv replied in turn. “Ready to deploy on the other side of the jump.”
“Jonas?”
“Board is showing only friendly ships in the system.” The Detection Technician replied.
“Master Engineer Sulvan?”
“Ready.”
“Master Doctor Prure?”
“Medical ready.”
“Sentinel Commander?”
“Ready.” The reassuring voice of robotic violence replied.
“Rais?”
The Master Star Pilot just waved his arm in the air.
“Yuli, prepare to jump the ship on the command from the Seven.” Ranix ordered.
“Master Sergeant Santini?”
“Blue Team ready.” Replied the former Delta Force operator.
In the hangar bay of the Epsilon was precious cargo, fifteen members of the Terran Strike Group Blue Team that were ready to be fired down to the Earth’s surface once the Epsilon was able to get through a hole in the planetary shield.
Ranix wasn’t sure what to expect when he jumped into the Sol system. He knew that the Seven and Five could obliterate anything in their path, but they couldn’t be everywhere at once. If the Epsilon jumped into a cluster of enemy ships, the reconnaissance corvette would be in trouble, they just didn’t have the firepower, or the armour to go toe to toe with capital ships.
“Just received the warning transmission.” Hiks reported.
“Understood.” Ranix replied. “Rais, move us into our jump position.”
They weren’t using the Traxis station jump box for the jump; therefore, they needed to be far enough away from the other ships when they jumped. The Fleet Command Ships would create a sub-space field of gigantic proportions when it jumped, which is why the two massive vessels had already moved far away from the station, and into open space.
Gripping the armrests of his chair, Ranix started to prepare his mind for what was about to happen. He knew that Rais would fly on instinct, and their new gunner Curv would do an excellent job of controlling the ship's weapons, but it was the critical decisions that he alone would have to make, such was the weight of command.
“Second signal.” Hiks reported. “Yippee-ki-yay.”
“Start the clock.” Ranix ordered. “Yuli, prepare to jump the ship.”
44-3/66 Armour
“Yippee-ki-yay.” The word went out over everyone’s headset at the same time. General Wilkinson had given the go-code himself.
The attack was on, and the First Infantry had 45 minutes to get to the Barrier Generator.
Doctor Keegan Beck tightened his grip on the ring that had been soldered onto the hull of the Abrams. The rumble of the tanks modified two-thousand horsepower engine was almost inaudible with the protective headphones that Keegan was wearing, but even before the tank started to move, he could feel the vibrations through his arm.
Looking down, he checked that he was locked correctly into his harness and that it, in turn, was connected to the tank. The last thing he wanted was to be thrown from the tank while it was racing towards its target. It took a few minutes before his tank was rolling. Last in line, waiting for the lead platoons of tanks to move off before they set off themselves.
Keegan was still trying to find a comfortable position when the tanks reached Rifle Range Road and US 77. A sharp left on the asphalt road turned them south. It was the beginning of their journey that would bring them up against a power that they had no business fighting, but they had no choice. No other support was coming. It was them, or nothing.
“Alright Knights. We need to haul ass before Hamilton’s Own opens up. So, let’s make time.” Captain Shawn Williams cut the line.
Keegan watched as the uneventful scenery of Kansas raced by. Looking over at Keltar, the Alliance trooper looked amazingly calm in his armour, his face shield flipped up, the wind rushing against his skin.
It didn’t take long for the procession of twelve tanks to reach the junction of US 77 and 244, the road that would take them most of the way to their attack point. The large intersection was usually without features other than the single petrol station on the north-west corner, but today, there was a mass of cars, trucks and other vehicles lining the intersection. Keegan watched in awe as his tank roared through the intersection to the exuberant support of those lining the road.
Flags of various descriptions were flying in the air, US flags, Jayhawk flags, 1st Infantry Division flags and many more that Keegan couldn’t identify. Apparently, the 1st ID had the worst operational security in the world, because according to Keegan’s quick calculations, at least half of Junction City’s 23,000 residents were in and around the intersection screaming their heads off.
When Keegan’s tank cleared the crossroads, Captain Williams came back over the comms.
“Way-Point James passed. Heading to Way-Point Montross.”
45-1/5 Field Artillery
The battery commander had been staring at his watch for almost thirty minutes. He was well aware that his first rounds needed to be heading down range at precisely the right moment. He had served in Iraq and Afghanistan and had never felt pressure like this. He had had the lives of his fellow soldiers in his hands before, but never the fate of the planet.
He knew the script from back to front. Get as many rounds on target while the tankers closed down the distance to the shielding. With luck, their rounds would have the desired effect of weakening the shield enough for the tankers to shoot through it.
He rechecked his watch. The calculations had been done over and over again. Lots of assumptions had been made, but the conclusion was that the tanks needed hard steel raining down on the enemy the second before they came into visual range of the enemy. It was his job to give the command to unleash hell.
Gripping his radio, he brought it to his lips. “Hamilton’s Own, Fire Mission.”
The seconds looked like they were moving through mud across his watch.
“Stand-by.” He said under his breath to himself.
Up and down the line, the 155mm guns were correctly angled, ready to fire.
He checked the time. Ten seconds. Five seconds.
“Hamilton’s Own! At my command!”
One second.
“Battery, fire for effect!”
46-3/66 Armour
“Here we go!” Sergeant Washington shouted over the net.
From Keegan’s position on the back of the tank, he could see the massive Barrier Generator. It was at least one hundred metres tall and shrouded in a transparent blue energy shield, but he couldn’t see much detail through it.
The tanks from the lead platoons were fanning out, a total of eight of the steel beasts coming on-line. They were cutting across the flat plains of Kansas at close to fifty miles an hour, but Keegan knew that they had to slow to shoot accurately. He knew that at the two-mile mark from the target, they were going to drop to twenty miles an hour and start blasting away.
“In-coming!”
Keegan couldn’t hear the first salvo of artillery fire, but he could see the splashes on shielding as the rounds impacted. Keying his comms unit, he contacted Keltar.
“You sure that artillery is going to do anything?”
“Yes.” Keltar replied. “The shield can only absorb so much kinetic energy.”
Before Keegan could thank his compatriot, the leading line of tanks slowed rapidly and opened fire with their 120mm cannons. The roar from the eight barrels was intense, and just before Keegan could register the thunderous noise, his tank slowed to twenty.
“Dismount!” Sergeant Washington shouted over the comms.
Keegan quickly grasped the end of retention line, followed it to the connection point on the hull, then unclipped it. Rising to his feet, he took a moment to look to his front. They were just under two miles to the blue shielding, a distance they should cover in under six minutes. The leading eight tanks were spread over a one-hundred-metre frontage and were pounding away with their main cannons as fast as they could. Apparently, the Coalition troops weren’t prepared, and they had yet to reply with fire of their own.
“Let’s go, Doc!” Keltar shouted.
Keegan spun around and spotted the armour clad alien standing at the rear of the tank.
Taking a few steps towards the back end of the tank, Keegan looked down at the brown dirt that was behind the tank, closed his eyes, and jumped off.
Hitting the ground, Keegan rolled a few times then came to a halt. Standing up, he brushed himself off, then looked over at Keltar, who was standing upright, weapon at the ready.
“That wasn’t so bad.” Keegan said; a smile on his face.
Before Keltar could reply, a massive explosion erupted behind him, sending the pair diving towards the ground.
Looking over his shoulder, Keegan could see two of the leading Abrams stopped and blazing brightly. It seemed that the Coalition forces had finally gotten their act together.
Keegan crawled around on his belly until he was facing in the direction of the Barrier Generator. “Fuck.”
47-Earth Orbit
Varus arrived on the bridge of the Lone Hunter in full stride, surrounded by his Black Team. “Base Commander Sajoba! I am relieving you of command!”
“Multiple jumps detected!” Screamed a technician. “Alliance signatures!”
“You’re a traitor!” Sajoba raged when he spotted Varus and his robotic protection detail. “I’ll have you killed for this!”
“I’m going to kill you first!” Varus barked back. “I should never have promoted you to that shithole of a position on Rancor 7. Now I’m going to right that wrong!”
“Alliance contacts!” repeated the tech.
“Security!” Sajoba jumped out of the command chair. “Where the fuck is security?”
Varus shook his head as he walked towards Sajoba, raising bloody hands. “They’re not coming.” There was a smile on his face. “I’m going to kill you, and then I’m going to take back control of my fleet.”
“Fuck you!” Sajoba reached down for the blaster on his hip, but he wasn’t nearly fast enough to beat the Black Team.
Of the bots that Varus had surrounding him, it took only one, with a single well-placed shot, right between Sajoba’s eyes, to kill the former Base Commander. His body fell backwards to the floor, followed by silence.
“It’s done!” Varus proclaimed. His hands resting comfortably on his hips.
“Alliance contacts!” The technician yelled. For the third time.
The rest of the bridge was silent. The techs, the other officers, the Ship Master. All silent, startled by the last thirty seconds of activity, unsure of what to do.
“Shields up!” Varus barked. “All ships, all sectors, prep for combat.” He strode slowly over to the commander's chair, never looking at Sajoba’s body. “Report all contacts, friendly or otherwise.”
