Battle Group Epsilon

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

March 29 2184, 12:23 Hours (Standard Solar Time)
Aboard Disabled UNSF Carrier "Hippocrates" In Asteroid Belt Sector Kilo Foxtrot

"Second Squad, fall back and take firing positions on deck three outside of stairwell F," ordered Lieutenant Hornberg over the headset.
"Roger. Freemen! Temple! Move it!" the Sarge yelled. "Mac, grab those detonators!" They ran down the dark corridor as it flashed with incoming fire. Half of the squad was already there, giving them cover fire. They were stuck in the middle of the crossfire, running like hell. Grabowski clenched his teeth and by some insurmountable quantity of luck, they reached the stairs all in one piece. The Sarge hit the open button and led them into the stairwell.
Inside, the Sarge closed the door behind them and blasted the electronics that operated it. He heard the electric zap as it short circuited. It wouldn't stop them but it would buy them a few seconds. It was all they needed.
They hustled down the stairs and reached the third deck. The Sarge took the detonators from Mac and said, "Seal it." She pulled out her welder and set to work, starting at the top of the door and working her way down. She had a talent. Grabowski had been trained on how to use the M11 welder but it took a certain touch that he lacked. It was more art than science.
Mac finished and she clipped the welder back onto her belt. The squad backed up and waited. The seconds ticked slowly by. Then they heard it, banging against the door. The Sarge hit the button on the remote detonator and the three anti personnel mines in the stairwell exploded. Grabowski heard the bang along with the sound of a hundred ball bearings ricocheting off the door. Then there was nothing.
They waited and the silence persisted. "Alright Sergeant, get your teams back to position. Sector seven has been compromised. Sensors picked up enemies on decks two through five. Set up your positions and sit tight. Hornberg out."
"Alright sweethearts," the Sarge said. "Let's move it."
They triple timed it back to their spot in the perimeter, just outside the mainframe room. Their squad was a man short; Chavez was still too wounded to fight. He was on guard duty. Because the ship was so massive and the Marine's numbers so small, all non-combat personnel had been moved to either sick bay or the bridge. And just about everyone on board was non-combat. MPs and a few squads of marines were guarding them while the rest were mobilizing against the boarding action. Two squads had also been sent to the mainframe room. They had to protect it at all costs and failing that, destroy the damned thing. It held countless volumes of classified information that couldn't fall into enemy hands.
The squad fell into a loose formation behind Freemen. They headed down the stretch of corridor toward their position. The red emergency lights painted the walls with a blood-like luminescence. The squad's helmet and shoulder mounted flashlights cut through the murk.
It gave Grabowski the chills. Maybe it was more than that. They were in some pretty deep shit, about waist high and rising fast. He was stuck in a tin can with no power, floating dead in space. A rogue asteroid heading in the just the right direction could ruin everyone's day and they wouldn't know about it till they were floating through space in their skivvies.
Grabowski didn't admit it to anyone but he was scared. He barely admitted it to himself. They were all scared, what made him special? He just had to stay sharp and he'd get out of this shit show in one piece.
They got into position behind a sentry gun they had deployed and caught their breath. It was in the intersection of a T shaped corridor with the perpendicular hall leading straight to the mainframe. It was in that hall that they rested. Grabowski hated the automatic targeting weapons but loved them as well. They could deliver one hell of a fireworks show but at the same time he was always afraid they would turn and shoot him. The gun spun to face the squad as they approached, detecting motion. Once it recognized their military implants it turned away. He always wondered what would happen if his had broken or malfunctioned somehow.
Grabowski pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one. Freemen took one as well. Smoking was strictly forbidden on all military vessels except for designated areas. Combat came with its own set of protocols though. He decided those ones took the precedent. He inhaled deeply and blew out the smoke from his nostrils. He took his helmet off for a moment. Sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging them. He swiped it away and took another drag. It was a bad habit but everyone had at least one or two.
The ship shuddered and Grabowski put his helmet back on. It felt more like an explosion of some sort than an impact. "What now?" Freemen asked.
He heard the mic come on and the Lieutenant started speaking. "The stairwell was breeched. Get ready second squad, I'm tracking multiple signals heading your way."
"Look alive, Marines," the Sarge yelled.
The sentry gun swiveled in a flash toward the left corridor and started firing. The muzzle flashed with each round and it sounded like a jackhammer. Two hundred fifty years of technological evolution and still nothing could kill a human being like a fifty caliber weapon. During boot they had seen a test fire on a dummy target. Each round put a hole into it the size of a dinner plate.
The Sarge took a peek around the corner and came back. As long as the ammo lasted, they could sit there all day. If only he had remembered to bring a magazine to read.
Then all of a sudden it stopped. The weapons LED lights exploded in sparks and the muzzle slumped forward, limp. "Talk to me Mac," the Sarge said.
"I don't know," she said. "The electronics are all fried. It's like an EMP hit it."
"f***."
"We got a shit storm heading this way, ladies. Buckle up." The Sarge tossed a flash bang around the corner and saw the walls illuminate for just a moment. Half the squad headed into the intersection and fired full auto, no holds barred. There were countless soldiers running at them, but they were not friendly's. They were covered head to toe all in the same gray blue fatigues with chest plates for armor. They wore full masks that covered the entirety of their heads. Unlike their ships, they weren't invincible. Grabowski saw them get hit. They fell and were trampled by their comrades. They fired back.
The Squad took casualties. Corporal Temple was hit, Grabowski didn't see where but he saw the man fall. Two others were hit as well. "Fall back the Sarge said. He grabbed Temple by his armor and dragged him around the corner. Grabowski pumped his weapon and fired a grenade into their midst. There was an explosion and smoke filled the tunnel. More kept coming though. They fired and Grabowski was hit. It caught him in the shoulder but was deflected by his armor. He fired one more burst as he fell back with the others.
"Get to the mainframe," Hornberg said over the Com channel. They didn't have to tell him twice. Grabowski hightailed it with the rest of the squad into the room. They hit the door and it slammed shut. Mac got to work right away welding the thing shut.
There were four marines inside the room already; a Buck Sergeant and three grunts. One had a bandage wrapped around his head; another's wrist was in a cast.
Someone had leaned Temple up against the wall. He was slumped forward and blood dripped from his head. Grabowski kneeled down to see if he was alright. He was dead. A hole had been blown through his head. "Holy shit," he said.
Freemen took a look. "Christ."
Grabowski felt sick. He'd been in the Corps for over three years. He'd seen dead bodies before; of enemies, civilians, and even other Marines. This was different though. This had been his friend. "Holy shit," he repeated. He didn't know what else to say.
He was only dimly aware of a loud thudding sound coming from the door they had just sealed up. He was in a trance; he couldn't take his eyes away from Temple. He didn't look real. His skin was grey like the cold stone of some statue. He looked like a cheap prop on the set of some horror movie.
"Bowski!" The Sarge yelled. He didn't move. "Bowski!" He snapped out of it and looked up. "Give Mac a hand with the EMP." The welded door was being hammered inward. It was dented and he could see they didn't have long. He nodded and ran over to Private McNamara.
She gave him three different magnetic electrodes with wires attached to them running down to a device on the floor. "Here," she said. "Put these on, we gotta fry the mainframe before that door comes down." He placed them on the sides of the supercomputer as she typed away at her datapad.
"Ready, Sarge," she called after a minutes. "Hold on," he said.
Freemen was standing a few meters from the door with his pulse rifle leveled off at it. "Yeah man, listen." Grabowski listened but he didn't hear anything. He was about to say something but then he realized that was the point. "They're gone," Freemen said.
"Sir," the Sarge said, "What's going on?"
"Sensors are reading that decks three, four, and six are clear. No signatures detected. They're leaving," Hornberg said, sharing the same disbelief they all felt.
"Freemen, get us out of here." He took out his welder and started opening up the door. Because of how warped it was they couldn't slide it back into the wall but had to kick the damn thing down. They peaked through cautiously and entered the corridor. There were pockmarks on the walls from the fire exchange they had had as well as scarring from grenade blasts. There was blood on the floors, but not as much as Grabowski would have thought. There were no bodies.
He had seen them fall as they were shot, had even personally shot several of them himself. But there was nothing. Not one f***ing body to prove it. "What the hell?" asked Freemen. "Where'd they go?"
Grabowski couldn't believe it. Why had they left, and where the hell had they gone?
"Sergeant," Hornberg said over the COM. "Get your men back to Operations. I just got word we've been hailed by the Thermopylae. Help is here."