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The Line of Resistance, part 9

THE BATTLE FOR ORBIT

The archaic craft span frantically. This gave Simon more that sickness. He felt ill to the bones. He was strapped in, but the weightlessness made his stomach fly about inside his body.
There was only blackness from the window, not surprising since the window was only about 30cm across.
He felt the Portia shake, as its nitrogen thrusters were fired.

The Portia began to spin in greater earnest, the few pinpricks of light now streaks on the glass. Simon smiled across to Kell, who acknowledged his fear. Kell returned to his communications with HQ. He talked directly into his wristwatch, mentioning times, and safety checkouts.

His muttering became inaudible above the Portias main engine. This is it! thought Simon, hoping that the assault would be over, soon. The twelve faces in the holding bay all reacted in different ways, clenched teeth, twitching hands. So this is what group fear feels like, pondered Simon. But he only needed one thing, to look into Kell's eyes and feel the strength within.

Kell was a veteran, from the Unity days. A supreme tactician, who had masterminded this daring raid. Kell was an amoral man. He ordered men to die, knowing how it would fit into his plan. Fair was fair however, he had won more than he had lost. Butchers bills withstanding. However the media called him 'The man who got things done'. Not exclusively Spartan media either!

Kell was not apprehensive. Infact now he was giving the final briefing. They had come into close dock with the Base, zipping around at the same speed as it.

"Ok, we are approaching Helena base now. I expect you know the drill by now. Unmarked suits, remember!
Go out of the airlock in the assigned groups. Remember to check your suit before you go out, no popping out on my shift! No firing the combat shredder until inside!"

The orders carried on. Kell was attempting to squeeze into a Flexi-suit. These suits were not pressured, except in the helmet. The body being held in at SP by the force of rubber. This had the benefit of being safer if the suit was ruptured. only one region would suffer the effects of space. No doubt the region would get expansive bruising, and either burnt or frozen in agony. But safer than any old pressure suit. The suit was also much freer.
The user would feel virtually naked in space. Fascinating in a psychological sense, but this was war, Simon considered.
Everybody else just wore thick pressure suits. Flexi-suits were all very well, but they were untested, and the heating elements were atrophied.

Simon was suited up. As were Thorus and Penepole, his team members, all joined by the mercenary bond.
Kell handed out the shredder pistols to the squad. He relayed the message in his ear.
"Ok were are coming in around the Habitation area. First team will plant the explosives. Remember, this base is only 40m long, so don't put down too much.
The Portia is going for reentry, but expect the Ganymede to take you back after you have captured the objective. Good luck out there."

The equipment was nessesarily primitive, to give the impression of mercenaries, not Spartan funding. Still more than enough to beat off an University space base.

Kell went out with team one. Simon followed shortly after. He switched to internal oxygen just as the airlock pumped out its air.

Suddenly he was floating in space! His team members were right beside him, and the First team were planting explosives about 30m away. He knew the protocol. He crawled along the conically shaped Portia, until he was holding onto the specific handholds. The other teams copied him, it was not unlike children, holding onto the side of a swimming pool, afraid of the space beyond them.
"This is Team One. We are ready, moving back now."
As said, Team One moved back to the side of the craft. Simon could see Kell's helmet and the smile on his face. Kell looked more slender than the rest of the attack group, he loved every minute of his freedom from a pressure suit.
"Wow kids! You really must get one of these! They make you feel so light."
To demonstrate, he did a flip.

Simon again saw the grin as Kell picked up the radio detonator, He set it off.

Nothing!
Kell frantically swore over the radio,. and pushed the button many times. Roderigo sighed, and propelled himself over to the side of the station.

He was about half way there when the bomb went off. No sound of course, but several bits of debris flew in all directions, demonstrating the power of the explosion. One chunk had hit Roderigo.
Roderigo span around uncontrolably, the air flooding from his suit pushed him in myriad directions. His screaming could be heard over the radio, at least for a while. Droplets of blood were floating from the rupture site, just above his groin.

Simon instinctively fired his thrusters, to reach him. Kell pulled him back. Telling him that it was too late.
Roderigo's scream intensified as his air escaped, then stopped, as his air ran out. His face was contorted in agony, His mouth frothed with the blood from his lungs. This blood slowly froze in the vacuum, Roderigo's eyes were blood ridden and bloated.

Kell cut the transmittion, talk about demoralising.

Ack! Back to business. Team two were now to take advantage of the hull breach. They were to rush in and seize the living quarters. Ludicrously small that they were.

He checked the shredder pistol, as did the rest of his team. They moved in formation to the side of the habitation deck. The air had long since flooded out. The living quarters were on the third ring, at the top of the pivot that housed 'The Weapon'.

The massive array of solar panels, sheeted on top of the pivot, had already begun to fold. The AI was thinking for itself and like a good AI it didn't want to fry the ground, if the microwaves went off course.

They drifted into the 10m room. Simon felt the reassuring grip of his magnetic boots. The lights had been burnt out, but they had built in torches. He noticed that the blast had not severely damaged the inside of the compartment. The Blackened sections and bits of hull were scattered around the first few metres of the hole. Kell was an expert, despite the surprising bit of metal that killed Roderigo.
His team members were right next to him, scanning the several sleeping chambers for survivors. But those upright closet beds were not airtight.

They found nobody in the room. They also didn't find the console that they were promised would be there. Without the console, and a keycard, they could not evacuate the air on the other decks, or even open the airlock to invade the other sections.

The only way forward would be to burst the door from this room, and search the deck, which would deviod of air, and hopefully life.

Signaling this information to Kell, he told his team members to grab onto something. He got a doorbuster out of his belt, and placed the tiny black disc on the flywheel of the door. Quickly he grabbed for a handhold about 1m away from the hole.

He felt the floor shake beneath him. Several sections of the door fell forwards, but mostly it fell backwards into a corridor. Then the air rushed out, like a ferocious wind. Simon felt buffeted by the wind, he could feel it roaring against his helmet. He saw various objects fly past his vision, some papers, some towels. An impact pistol?

That was omimous thought Simon, as he let go. Physically gesturing to his team mates, he took out his pistol again, and stepped over the remains of the door. The corridor was circular, naturally, it also had several consoles. Without a keycard they were useless. At least they could get in. University security was pretty low, especially on an orbital solar plant, which was considered out of raiders reach. Not even a retinal scan was needed. Scientists were scientists.

The corridor was only about 5m wide, so he stood two abreast, along with Thorus, and Penepole covering from behind. They furtively searched for doors, or even bodies, as they trapsed the long circumference.

Suddenly the wall to the left of him wrenched and tore. Kneeling and rolling to the right Simon noted that they looked like impact shots.

Damn particle impactors! Damn lack of sound! Any bastar.d could sneek up on you in a vacuum. His team members fired back, they obviously saw something he didn't. His team members told him that there was a guy in a suit sniping in a doorway, around the 'bend'. He had pulled in, after trying to blow Simon's head off.

A grenade would destroy a keycard no doubt. So they had to clear out the room, the old fashioned way. Penepole ran to cover the door arc, standing up. Whilst he rolled into the doorway, trying not to get shot. Thorus followed him into that position.

All three of them scanned the visible area, nothing! They must be at either side of the doorway. Difficult, but at least they couldn't hear us, whilst we could spend all day planning, if we wished.
But they were Spartan! They were trained in this. Plan A was gas, obviously unworkable, Plan B was Grenade, unworkable. Plan C, was to shoot up the place, like a nut.

The Spartans liked Plan C. Penepole, started firing above their heads, covering the doorframe. Simon and Thorus stood up, pistols drawn, they burst in at opposite sides. Simon let off a volley of Shredder shots, at the person who was standing in the middle of the room. The person was obviously looking at where Penepoles shots were hitting.
He barely had enough time to loose a shot off, which missed, before Simon waxed him. Simon continued to fire at the man, hoping to kill him, before depressurisation got him. Spartan honour prehaps?

Thorus didn't fire a shot, his side was clear. The door was set slightly to the right of the room, meaning that when Thorus jumped to the left, there was basically nowhere for a person to stand.
Simon scanned the room, obviously Rec room, judging by the books, and arcade machine.
The dead guy was wearing a military uniform, obviously not a Scientist. Judging by previous University soldiers, this guy was a Captain.
1st Lft Simon Austin saluted him. The station was prepared. How? Why? He grabbed the goon's keycard and ran to a console. Hoping that the others would cover him, in case of other malcontents.

Everything ran smoothly, the air was evacuted in all of the corridors, but not the rooms. The other teams were preparing a break in. Power was shut down, so the Microwave transmitter didn't work, nor did the lights, only AI and life support. The computer refused the request to turn off sentry guns. However, all that was needed now was to kill any remaining resistance, capture any Barneys that are around, and get their own Barneys to reconfig 'The Weapon', just so the Believers could buy shots off them. Easy!

But they had Spartan training and they would win. In time for the Ganymede as well.

Continue to part 10

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