Marty & Bartlett Combined Post

Posted in 3. Fight For Flight by William Bartlett

Bartlett: 

     We had been under Zero G since we locked to the axial docking tube on the Mayflower. I was feeling just a bit queasy when the announcement came informing us that UNWG forces were already on board.

     I had no idea at the time why I was chosen to lead a squad to secure the Stores section of the Mayflower. But I was sure glad for the talk all of us colonists had been engaged in over the last couple of days concerning what might await us when we did reach the ship. I at least was beginning to get a feel for the quality of the group as a whole. Though I didn’t think my actions in the Lancer defense marked me as a leader, I was mentally prepared for resistance when we found that the Goonies had gotten there first..

     I was happy enough, happiness being very relative, that Marty was leading the other squad. I need to back up a bit. If this diary entry is disoriented so was I.

     Marty wasn’t so much selected, but demanded to go onto the Mayflower. My group of five all had weapons of one kind or another, four hand guns and a .22 cal. single shot rifle. Marty said she was going armed or not and got her way.

Marty:

     I am not usually the leader type. Either I go it alone or I go along until I have a good reason not to. However, I seemed to have had more experience in dealing with the ugly side than many of the folks, who had crowded aboard the Mayflower, so I spoke up at the gathering just after the alarm. Somehow all the anger at years of oppression at the hands and weapons of the so-called world government just boiled to the front. “I don’t care what it takes,” I heard myself snarl, “I will not give up this easily after all I have already given up to get here. If we can’t outfight them, we’ll outsmart ‘em. Anybody who isn’t afraid to die, just follow me.”

Bartlett:

     We were the last two groups to exit the Lancer as we had the shortest distance to cover. We took a sled like vehicle, (just set it moving outwards and centrifugal force does the rest), from the ship’s dock and felt our weight returning as we got further from the axis of rotation. After agreeing on a rendezvous spot we split up and each led our squads towards the Goonie forces in the Storage Area. I had lots of worries and hers must have been worse though you wouldn’t have known it from watching her as we set out ahead.

Marty:

     I found myself at the head of a small group as we jogged toward the storage area. Beneath the bravado, I was damned scared. It was bad enough leaving home for the unknown, but I had never imagined actual combat, especially combat armed with nothing more than our wits, what we could scavenge in this strange place, and what Uncle Alfa had built into my PDA. Still, these creeps were sent by the folks who killed my brother and broke my father. It would feel good to fight back for once.

     I sensed someone trotting just a little behind me, almost too close on my left, as if they were trying to stay close enough to attack me. Whoever it was matched me stride for stride, so our boots thumped the strange rock and metal of the passage in echoing unison.

     I stole a glance as we ran along a fairly smooth section of the rocky tunnels. Beside me was the most eerily handsome child I had ever seen. Perhaps sixteen, maybe younger, the kid had golden skin like a beachcomber in full summer, a halo of feathery ringlets of just a shade darker bronze, with gleaming sun streaks, and almost unnatural ice blue eyes. He was slender and long legged, almost pretty except for an innate toughness that just radiated from his lean form. He grinned cheekily and winked when he caught me looking at him. Then he ratcheted up the pace a notch and sailed on by me with ease.

     “Hold up there,” I called to him. “You have any idea where you’re going? If not, wait up while I check the comp.”

     With an impudent grin he replied. “Me granddad ‘s a miner. Born here I was. Tunnels ‘re like me backyard.” And he ran on through the semi darkness. I followed as best I could with shadowy strangers all around me.

Bartlett: 

     The Goonies were heavily armed and prepared for the assault. We had an advantage in having downloaded diagrams of all the tunnel excavations made after the Mayflower had stopped being used as a mining asteroid. We also had tracking data on Goonie locations relayed by the Mayflowers comp system. But the Goonies must have had some of that information also. They had sent their forces to four critical areas of the ship, that couldn‘t be coincidental.

     It took about 20 minutes from the time we left the Lancer till we got to the rendezvous just outside of the Stores section. I sent a guard out ahead and waited for Marty‘s group to catch up. She was only a couple of minutes behind.

Marty: 

     Just ahead of our main group was a woman I had noticed in the lounge, back when I was having that delicious beer and thinking we were safe at last. Warm rose patches on each strong, wide cheekbone highlighted her smooth mahogany face. Dark eyes shrouded emotions behind thick lashed, slanted lids. Delicate sable hair floated over her shoulders as she ran effortlessly through the dimness. I was startled to see such beauty in such a sinister place.

     She turned to cock a questioning eyebrow in my direction when she felt my regard. It was then I saw the twisted, red disfigurement that scarred her otherwise perfect countenance from her eyebrow, and across the edge of her sculptured nose and the hollow plane of her cheek to end at the top of her gently curved lip. It gave her the appearance of wearing a slight sneer as if permanently bored with the world. I almost tripped on the uneven floor of the tunnel as I realized who she was. Sinopa, the fox, in her native Blackfoot tongue. It had been rumored for years that she led a really successful resistance group based in northern Manitoba, but nothing had ever been proved. Hers was a face that had graced every tabloid on the planet. What the heck was she doing here?

Bartlett: 

     Ships stores consisted of multiple tunnels, each about 25 feet in diameter. Some had been bored by mining machinery following mineral veins, others added afterwards in setting up the asteroid as a Colony Ship. The larger mining passages made many gradual twists and turns. After the mining ended Hamilton had smaller cross connectors added and blasts set off between a few of the adjacent tunnels making some larger storage areas.

     As we entered into the Stores Section Marty directed us by keeping track of the Goonies location being relayed to her PDA. We passed by rack after rack of container storage, many empty, some stocked with provisions of all types. Most had identifying labels on the outsides. There were also rooms with larger machinery and crates of all sizes.

Marty: 

     I almost ran up the back of the blond youth as he stopped dead in one of the wider spots in the tunnel.

   “Lookie what we got here.” He grinned again, and gestured. All around us on racks that reached from rocky floor to darkened ceiling were supplies of all sorts. This then was the storage area we had been sent to save. Most of the perishable stuff was encased in special plastic vacuum containers about 5 gallons in size with a valve for removing the air. There was everything from a ridiculous number of barrels of pickles, which boded ill for our diet should we ever reach our destination, to sterile water and bread flour. In another tunnel we saw supplies of HI Pressure Oxygen and coils of assorted hose and tubing that must have served the miners when the place was being excavated.

Bartlett: 

     When we were several hundred yards and a couple of cross corridors away from the UN squad we halted to figure out what to do next.

     Joe Fortson, one of the colonists in my squad suggested we set up an ambush and use Marty’s people to lure the UNWG forces into the target zone. Hand guns against armor, massively superior fire power, and who knows what else. Didn’t seem like a winning combination.

     “I wish we had some explosives to set at the ambush site“ I said, “But with their sensors they’d probably detect them anyway and stay clear. It looks iffy but I don’t see anything we can do but try to set it up in a cross tunnel and hope it works.”

     Then Marty looked up from her PDA and said, “Bill, I have an Idea”…….

Marty:

     Bill suggested that the cross tunnel would be the right spot for an ambush if we could figure out how to make one work. Something about all that oxygen and flour tickled the back of my mind. I remembered dad telling how his cousin was killed back in Wichita when six million bushels of grain burned after an explosion of nothing more alarming than flour dust. That disastrous blast had taken out half a mile of grain elevators in one gigantic bang.

     We huddled in frantic parlay and then Bill and his band went off to try and delay the Goonies till we were ready for them. Soon a rough plan of sorts emerged. We would make a big boom with the flour and oxygen and blow the whole bunch of them to Hell. We had everything we needed except an ignition device. I slid apart the layers of my specially built PDA and lifted out the tiny firestarter my uncle had invented. All that was needed to produce a very satisfying spark was a turn of a tiny ratchet wheel.

Bartlett:

     Leaving one armed guard with Marty; Joe, myself, and two others from my squad crept towards the Goonies position. We had to let them spot us from far enough away that we had a chance to get under cover before being shot at. We also needed to keep up the game for at least 10 minutes in order to give Marty time for her preparations. Without the maps of the tunnel system it would have been hopeless.

     We took turns, each of us being the target and then laying down covering fire, dodging from tunnel to tunnel but keeping away from Marty and her people. If the Goonies had just made a full scale charge their body armor and superior weapons would have easily carried the day. As it was the were just too cautious going slowly and sending mobile sensors on little wheeled vehicles before them. A little wheeled sensor vehicle equaled a target that couldn‘t shoot back and we got  two of them which probably made the Goonies think we were better armed than we were.

Marty: 

     The boy, who called himself Kaye, was a whiz at connecting the oxygen piping to the valves on the flour containers. He used three of them spaced about 10 yards apart connecting each to a separate oxygen cylinder. It kinda reminded me of Kip recharging Pee Wee’s tank in Heinlein’s “Have Spacesuit, Will Travel“. Then he rigged them to be triggered by a single pressure handle hidden in a dark alcove concealed by a chunk of rock that protruded from the wall at the end of the cross tunnel. He set the firestarter in the center of the whole affair and said he would hide in the alcove and trigger the blast at my command. Now we just needed Bill’s group to lead them in there and hold them still for a moment.

     The woman I suspected was Sinopa said quietly, “When they come down this corridor, I will stand just there,” she pointed to a spot between the sets of flour containers we had rigged. “They will stop to look at me, as men tend to; I will leap over there,” she pointed again to another side passage with a sealable pressure door, “and duck inside. On your command, Kaye will push the trigger. They should be right among the containers.”

Bartlett: 

     “I hope she got it done in time.” I thought, As we turned and made a mad dash down the agreed upon ambush corridor. I saw stuff against the walls in several places so just maybe….. We hit the far end of the tunnel and ducked around the corner just as the Goonies reached the entrance. Sprawling on the floor I saw Marty looking intently at her comp screen. She glanced my way and gave a thumbs up.

     A second later Marty beckoned me over to watch. She had a remote camera hooked into her PDA so I had a front row seat for the finale.

     The Goonie squad, all five of them, were a quarter of the way down the 200 yard tunnel. Their sensor platform was out in front. When it reached a point a little over half way down the tunnel it had pointed at a side entrance then continued towards us. I saw a female figure step out of the side passage, briefly freezing the Goonie force, who instead of firing ran towards her. She popped off to the side again and out of view.

      Just as the UNWG guys reach the place where she had been standing Marty yelled “NOW!” into the PDA.

     The scene was obscured by a fine white mist for just a moment and then an incredibly large explosive noise was followed by an equally impressive fireball rounding our end of the passage. Luckily for those of us standing or crouching outside of the tunnel mouth there was nothing worse than ringing ears and singed hair.

     I signaled to Joe and we went back in to see the results. Marty was right behind. As Joe and I took off towards the downed Goonies Marty ducked into a small alcove near our end. I found out later she was looking after Kaye.

     A quick inspection showed us that all the UNWG forces were thoroughly dead. Sinopa, the gal who had been the distraction came out from a pressure door sealed room none the worse for wear. We gathered up all Goonie weapons and got back to Marty. She was kneeling over an unconscious kid who I gathered was a real hero of the affair.

     “Marty”, I said, seeing her concern, “One of the others can look after the boy. How about letting Captain Monroe know how we stand and see if there are any other groups that need help.”

Marty:

     I was amazed at how well the coordinated effort between Bill’s group and the people with me went. Sinopa, if indeed was she, was the perfect lure, looking all mysterious and unlikely like a beautiful ghost in the tunnel. I am going to see that Kaye is patched up as best as possible and keep him with me if I can. I am wondering if there is anything he can’t do. I think that after we radio the captain and apprise him of the situation we might take a look at what stores are left down here. An inventory might prove helpful.

After the Battle:

     After the battle for the Mayflower was over Marty and I compared notes for an after action report. We both entered it verbatim into our personal logs. So except for those things that can’t be set into writing that’s exactly how it happened.

Will They Not Just Give Up!

Posted in 3. Fight For Flight by Andrew Stuart

Riding the lift down to the tunnel levels, I was struggling to get close to Thompson and fit the new gear into the field jacket.

Reaching Him I asked “You have any experience at this kind of stuff”?

“No” He replied “The will and the means Yes but, training and experience NO”

“Honest at least. Here look at the 3D for the cryo banks. There are essentially two entrances; the front and back doors if you will. The back door here is the closest and easiest to defend. If you were to get there first and hole up at this junction; you could hold off all twenty goons much less the five or less you are going see.”

“I think you are right, they sure could not be behind us. Where are you going?”

“Right here”, I said pointing at the front door complex. “It’s also where the power, air and network enter the facility. I think that will be the main push and where we need me and Marina.” “Hold your end is all we can ask! As a matter of fact, let me try something!”

Raising my voice where I could be heard over the low babble; “Anybody here got any military or police background?” Two middle aged persons raised their hands “Cop” said the female, “Grunt” said the male.

“Well Thompson, there’s your two Fire Team Leaders. You get the 1-step training program as a Squad Leader. Take one extra person from my group so you are balanced. After all I have the Blonde Lady.”

I came back to our group and showed them the 3D. “Here’s where we are going. First we have to run to this intersection here. If we can fort up there we can not be flanked. Then we can send the action team up to the actual entrance.” “Any questions?”

“Yeah, who is the action team?” Spoke up one slightly quavering voice. At least one was going to decide today, Sheep or Sheepdog!

I gestured at Mariana and said “Us”.

Sotto Voice from Mariana, “It’s hunting time, Shooter.” “Damn straight, Spotter”

I was surprised that our group kept up so well. Prejudice Andy, anybody who willingly came on this little jaunt was not a couch potato. One guy even asked on the trot, “Why won’t they just let us leave, look how much they are wasting trying to stop us from just leaving?”

“Because, if we make it someone else has hope they can do it too. The first thing a dictatorship has got to overcome is your arms. The second is your hope.”

“Well, then Damn Them Sir!”

“With any kind of luck we will do just that. But, if any of them surrender; The Code of Honor applies. They live!”

“Do they necessarily have to be in 100% condition?”

“Don’t remember that being mentioned!”

We pulled up at the choke point intersection. “Ok, you with the questions. You are now in charge. You hold both legs of a T-intersection, the only way they can flank us is to come up the long leg. Stop them!”

Spotter and I drug the sub-voc microphones up on our necks and tightened them up. “Test up” from somewhere down in her throat. “5 by” from down in mine.

We moved towards the entrance complex only to freeze as the sound of gunfire erupted from at least three places in the corridors. “Well, sneaky is out Spotter.”

“Never thought we would get here fast enough anyway Shooter”

As we moved down our respective sides of the corridor, we heard gunfire behind us; a short vicious explosion of sound from multiple hand guns. “Sounds like the back door stays closed Shooter.” “Yeah, I just hope it did not cost them too much!”

Suddenly in my ear, “Blacksuits four in all, two on either side.”

I merely looked over and pantomimed pulled down the fast reactions lenses as I grated in my throat “Line Marines and a Pursuit Cruiser only carries four.” I motioned with my left hand with the Flashbang, and watched as her hand and arm pumped in time with mine. One, two, three, four and release.

Two seconds later the world went white. Had it not been for the fast reacts we would have been as blind as our targets.

Lunging around the corner I picked up the two on my side and gave them two fast head shots. Swing towards the other side I acquired the standing one just in time to see him disappear in a hammer I could never have heard.

Waiting the 90 seconds it took for our earpieces to relax, we began to hear the 1MC hollering for SITREPS. I opened up my wristcomp and reported. “Stuart here Capt. Cryo secured.” Staring at the faces of Thompson and question man coming out of the cryo section and our back track.

“Now, can we finally get out of this system.”

Looking at Thompson, “How many did you get?”

“Two, both in mottled suits!”

“Question Guy, how many?”

“One, mottled suit”

“Damn that makes seven here and all their Fleets.” Into the wristcomp, “Capt., Stuart here, any chance we can go for one of the docked Cruisers. They gotta be stocked for outer patrol, cause they sure did not beat us here from Earth.” “To All, if it’s a go any takers?”

To Be Continued

The Greenhouse

Posted in 3. Fight For Flight by Jack Seaworth

We had just made it to the Mayflower when the alarms went off. Goonie troopers had boarded the Mayflower. Stubborn bastards. It would be so much easier to let us go. But that would be a challenge to their absolute authority. A challenge that could not go unpunished less others took heart from it.

We split into eight groups of five colonists and split for different areas of the ship to repel the assault. I took a quick look at the 3D map of the Greenhouse area. There was a short, 30 meter corridor that opened up to the green house. If they wanted to proceed to the main cabin they would have to traverse that section. We only had handguns, so shots above 50 meters were out. Plus I am sure that they would not make the same mistake that the provincials made and would bring AP k-weapons this time. The only option was to trap them in the corridor.

Dave took 2 other colonists and set up a linear ambush at the near end of the corridor behind some short structural walls. I grabbed a colonist that seem to be able to handle her side of business and set up on the far side. This was a crappy position. If the goonies didn’t enter the corridor, we would be cut off from the rest of the cabin. If they saw us in the green house before the shooting started we were on our own. Not you brightest Jack. Oh well, adapt, improvise and overcome.

My companion seemed to detect the same problems I did and pointed to a second story superstructure on the far side of the hall. A difficult 40 to 50 yard shot to the hall, but the high ground. Hell, I’m too old to be climbing like a monkey so I let her get up there on her own and quickly took cover behind some raised beds off to one side.

We could hear them approaching. I just hoped that these people were seasoned enough to let them enter the corridor before springing the ambush. No such luck. One of the colonists on the end of the corridor opened fire as soon as he saw the six uniformed goonies walk in the green house. I couldn’t fire from here and hope to get the upper hand. Luckily my companion on the upper deck kept her cool and waited. The goonies, initially disoriented by the gunfire tried to take cover behind some planters. They were not as green as the provincials of earlier, but were not exactly colonial marine material.

The leader of the goonies began demanding that we surrender and submit to UNWG arrest. His demand was met with a hail of fire. I could tell by his face that he did not fully understand his precarious position. Been in charge for a long time without any resistance from your sheeple has that effect. He motioned his men to move closer to the corridor and use the walls as cover. Dumb move. They where now completely devoid from cover from my side.

I looked up to my companion and saw her taking aim at the Lieutenant in charge. He gave the order for his men to fire and my companion hit him with 3 rounds from behind. He was dead before he hit the ground. In the confusion, his men got tunnel vision and completely missed that the fire was coming from behind them. Three goonies had fallen by the time that one of them realized that we were behind him. He tried to back into the corridor for protection and walked right into the fire from the far side of the corridor. There were only two goonies left. They were not firing at all and although I could partially see them from my position they were out of range. I looked up and my companion just shrugged her shoulders perplexed at what they were doing.

I decide to take a chance. I yelled out: “You are surrounded and out gunned” “You can not possibly win this” “If you want to survive, drop your guns where you are and lay on your bellies” “There is no need to die”

They seemed to be talking to each other, arguing about what to do next. Then they did the dumbest thing they could have done. They stood up and started to charge the sound of my voice. Damn. I was really hoping they would do the smart thing. I didn’t get a chance to open fire. My companion opened fire from her perch as soon as they started to charge and downed one, while the other fell to fire from the corridor, now at his back. There was no need for them to commit suicide like that. I guess that once you have been programmed for blind obedience, you can’t do anything else.

I called out to Dave and told him to join me in the green house. He was unhurt, but one of the others had taken a shoulder blast. He was still behind cover. I told him to secure the injured man while my companion and I cleared the rest of the approach. We proceeded down the corridor where we ran into one of the colonist groups. They had cleared to that point. I left that group securing the green house and sent Dave to the infirmary with the injuries from both groups. The speakers blared asking for SITREPS. I grabbed my communicator and informed the captain of the injuries and the goonie casualties. By his count that covered every goonie either dead or captured.

We proceeded to the main hall to join the rest of the colonists and prepare for departure. Blood had been spilled, we had to run now, no choice. Small boarding parties had been so far easy to repel. A UNWG war craft would not.



Colony: Alchibah is a science fiction blog novel.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Probably.

All Contents (written or photo/artwork) not attributed to other sources is
Copyright (C) 2006 - 2011 by Jeff Soyer. All rights reserved.