Suspicious, he rose to move in for a closer look, un-slinging his weapon from his shoulder to hold across his chest in customary fashion as he walked. The rear loading ramp came down with a thud, attracting the ensign’s gaze just in time to notice a horrified look on the face of the indentured worker nearest the ramp as he looked up into the back of the cargo shuttle. Reacting instinctively to the worker’s terrified expression, Mendez immediately brought his weapon to bear.
On the far side of the hangar bay, near the main doors, Sergeant Weatherly saw his comrade’s sudden change in manner. He looked at the cockpit of the cargo shuttle and saw not the rotund face of the same pilot he had seen for the last twenty-four hours. Instead, there was the cold, ruthless face of military pilot, in a flight suit and a combat flight helmet.
Black and gray armored troops began pouring out of the back of the cargo shuttle, mowing down a handful of the defenseless indentured workers with rapid blasts from their energy weapons as the doomed workers scrambled for cover. Mendez ducked behind some crates to one side of the bay and immediately began spraying the rear loading ramp of the cargo shuttle with his close-quarters automatic weapon, most of his rounds bouncing off their armor. After emptying his first clip, he counted only one enemy soldier had fallen to his fire.
Sergeant Weatherly punched the alert button on the console next to the door as he charged to his left to try and circle around the cargo shuttle in the hope of setting up a cross-fire between himself and Mendez. But before he could reach a decent firing position, one of the first enemy soldiers to come around the starboard side of the cargo shuttle caught Weatherly in the left shoulder with a blast from his energy weapon. The blast seared his shoulder, spinning the sergeant to his left and causing him to stumble and fall.
The soldier that had caught Weatherly with his first shot came rushing forward to finish the job. The sergeant had lost his grip on his weapon and it had slid a few meters away. Realizing he had no time to reach it, he pulled out his combat knife to defend himself. But the onrushing enemy soldier had no intention of engaging in hand to hand combat, and stopped, raising his weapon to finish Weatherly off from five meters away.
Suddenly, a large rolling cart used by the workers slammed into the side of the soldier, knocking him off his feet. Weatherly watched in amazement as before the soldier could get back to his feet, the harvesting team foreman, Marcus, smashed the soldier’s helmet with a large rock from the cart. Marcus struck the soldier several more times, making sure he was dead before standing tall in triumph.
“How do you like that, you son-of-a-bitch?” Marcus bellowed. Suddenly, weapons fire from more enemy soldiers struck the cart and the deck near Marcus, causing him to flinch and duck. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed, running to get behind the same cover that Weatherly was already crawling towards.
Marcus picked up Weatherly’s loose weapon on his way, dropping down behind the crate next to the wounded sergeant. “Here! You dropped your gun!” Marcus said, handing the weapon back to Weatherly.
“Thanks,” the sergeant said, disbelief still in his eyes.
“Don’t mention it,” Marcus said. “Now, you gonna kill a few more of these bastards or what?”
Weatherly smiled. “Just gimme a second.”
“General alarm in the hangar bay!” the comm officer reported.
Cameron touched her comm-set, “Bridge to Mendez! What’s happening down there?!”
“We’re being boarded!” he reported, the sound of his own automatic weapon answering the sound of energy weapons discharge. “They came out of the cargo shuttle!”
“Sound general quarters! All hands! Prepare to repel boarders in the hangar bay!”
The comm officer immediately sounded the ship-wide alert as ordered, the lighting on the bridge immediately taking on a reddish hue.
Doctor Sorenson appeared from the starboard entrance, making way to her station, now designated Jump Control.
“Abby,” Cameron called out, “Get the drive ready to jump. We may need to exit in a hurry.”
“Understood,” the doctor responded.
“Mendez,” Cameron called over the comms. “Talk to me.”
Two crewmen, armed with assault rifles poked their heads through the main doors. The first one got caught in the shoulder by an energy bolt and was knocked back. The second crewman got the message and ducked back behind the hatch frame.
“Bridge! Tell them to come in on the catwalks! They’ll be able to pick’em off from above!”
Mendez peeked over his cover and took a few more shots at the enemy positions. He could see Sergeant Weatherly’s foot sticking out from behind the crate on the far side of the bay, and thought he saw movement. “Sarge,” he called over the comms, “you still with us?”
Sergeant Weatherly sitting on the deck, his back against the crate, grimacing in agony as his shoulder smoked. He could feel the heat from the burned flesh radiate against his face. “Yeah! I’m still here,” he answered over the comms.
“How bad are you hit?”
“Oh not bad. Just my fucking shoulder is on fire, that’s all.”
“You still in the fight?”
“Hell yeah,” he answered, dragging himself to his knees and turning to face the fight.
“Can you see the starboard catwalk access ladders from your position?”
The sergeant looked over the top of the crate providing his cover. He could see both ladders on the opposite side of the cargo shuttle from where Ensign Mendez was firing. “Yeah, I can see them both.”
“Good. Our people are gonna come bustin’ out onto those catwalks at any moment. So don’t let any of those fuckers up those ladders. Understood?”
“You got it,” the sergeant answered, as he raised his weapon and opened fire on the first enemy combatant trying to ascend the catwalk ladder. Several of his rounds bounced off the trooper’s armor, but one of them found a weakness in the knee joint, sending the enemy soldier falling to the deck in agony.
“Aim for their joints,” the sergeant called over the comms.
Jessica peeked around the edge of the doorway, quickly ducking back behind the heavy frame as a focused energy bolt from a sniper blasted a chunk out of the door frame, sending splinters flying in all directions.
“Fuck!” she swore, the smoke from the sizzled door frame burning her eyes. “They’ve got snipers up on all four sides. Vlad is laying down fire and forcing the ones on the ground to move into the buildings along the far side.” She peeked out through the door again, drawing another shot from the sniper. “Shit! We can’t do anything with those damned snipers up there!”
Suddenly, the side door from the neighboring greenhouse into the shack they were hiding in burst open. Jessica spun around to open fire but caught herself just in time when she saw the terrified face of Tug’s oldest daughter, Deliza, standing in the doorway, frozen with fear.
“Get down!” Jessica yelled at the girl, just as another shot from the sniper shattered the window glass, narrowly missing the girl as she ducked, a scream jumping from her throat. Jessica took the opportunity to swing her weapon around the edge of the door and pop off a burst of fire at the sniper’s position, just to let him know that they would fight back.
“Who are they?” Nathan asked no one in particular.
“I don’t recognize their uniforms,” Jessica said. “But whoever they are, they’re not amateurs, that’s for sure.”
“They are Ta’Akar assault troops,” Jalea told them. “Highly trained for such actions.”
“I have to get to my father!” Deliza cried.
“You keep going through those greenhouses and one of those snipers will pick you off for sure,” Jessica warned.
“Then we must wait?” Deliza asked.
“We can’t wait,” Jessica insisted. “This is probably just the first wave. They’ve probably got reinforcements on the way.”