ZanarkandKido
patreon
Interesting Times - Chapter 67
🕑 Added 2025-02-23 20:03:28 +0000 UTCMarch 16th, 2175
13:07
Lesh'ka-System
SSV Quick Flight
In Transit
"Alright, people, this is it. I know we haven't been together for long, but in less than four minutes, we'll fly down to Torfan in our coffins. Let's make sure that at the end of the day, someone else lays in it," declared Major James Walter, getting a roar of approval as an answer.
He chuckled at their enthusiasm. It wasn't that long ago that he joined the group, but all of them had grown on him.
Most had been in the Alliance since they enlisted, but three others were like him and were not officially part of the Alliance.
James had grown up in the US on Earth and had joined the military right out of high school. Back then, he didn't have many options. Joining the Alliance had been an option instead of the slowly shrinking US military, but he still had his little sister to look after and wanted to stay close to her. With the Alliance, he would have been sent who-knows-where within the galaxy. At least this way, James was still in the same country.
Imagine his surprise when he found he liked the military and was good at his job. What first started as a job to support himself and his sister became part of his life.
James climbed through the ranks and took training opportunities whenever they were offered, which resulted in his superior officer recommending that he join the Alliance's N-School in Rio.
Despite what most thought, the N-School wasn't just for members of the Alliance but for everyone within any human military force that showed potential. And James showed potential — potential that he realized.
After finishing the first step and getting his N1 designation, he joined the Special Forces and got chosen for Delta Force after a few years and another few higher N-Rank designations. While in the, in his opinion, best Special Forces group of the US, he also got the coveted N7 designation. Something that less than a dozen people outside the Alliance's military achieved.
Yet, it was not with the US military he was with at the moment but the Alliance.
It started when the first reports about the Great Raid came in. James, like hundreds of others, ran to get information about friends or family who lived on the invaded colony planets. It was extremely distressing to find out that his good friend from high school, David Chapeska, and his wife had been on the list of people who disappeared. David had been the one who looked after James' sister when he couldn't be there until she got old enough to look after herself. He owed it to David to do everything he could to get him and his wife out of the hell they found themselves in.
That was why he went to his superior and requested to temporarily be transferred under Alliance command. If he had to guess, he would say that he was just one of thousands who put in this request. Nobody knew when the counterattack would happen since there weren't even rumors spreading that one was in the works, but that it would happen was a sure thing.
Thanks to his credentials, his request was approved within days, and he was on the next flight to Arcturus Station, where he got assigned to a team of people who were either Special Forces or of at least N5 rank. Their job was to create a beachhead on the moon Torfan, and in the time between joining up and the operation, they trained extensively for it.
Knowing that the time for deployment was coming up, James ran the diagnostics program of his armor again. It was improbable that anything changed from the time he ran it half an hour ago, but he wouldn't leave anything to chance.
"Last check-up, guys. After that, into the coffins!"
After making sure his sidearm was magnetically attached, James grabbed his rifle, put his helmet on, and made sure all seals were properly functioning. He went toward his assigned pod, stepped into it, and started to strap himself in so he wouldn't shake around too much. While the eezo field integrated into the drop-pod should reduce the shaking inside to a minimum and ensure James arrived on the planet in one piece, the design wasn't flawless. Furthermore, it provided redundancy in case the mass effect field's power dropped below a certain level or deactivated itself completely for one reason or another.
"Everybody, listen up," called James through the team's comm system. "As of now, we are using our assigned call signs. Check-in if you're ready to drop. Eta-Leader, ready."
"Eta-2, ready."
"Eta-3, ready."
All the members called in to report their readiness one after the other. Seconds after the last one gave the green light, James opened a channel to the captain of the transporter: "Captain, we're ready to drop!"
"Understood, Eta-Leader," replied the captain. "Dropping you in forty!"
Immediately after the captain's reply, the light inside the troop bay changed into a deep orange, giving everyone a last warning to step back from the rows of drop pods as a barrier came up, dividing the pods from the rest of the room. Right after the barrier arrived at the top, the air around the pods got sucked out, and the floor opened up.
Of course, James could only see the last point because the camera at the bottom of the pod showed it to him on the small screen to his left. After all, one had to see into which direction one was falling if one wanted to adjust the pod's thrusters so that they wouldn't land too far off from the landing zone.
A countdown appeared in the upper right corner of his view, and when it reached zero, the clamps on his pod released it, and the thrusters activated for a short moment to give it momentum before the gravity of Torfan could do its work.
The way down was short, yet felt eternal. James watched the ground coming ever closer, and he felt like his heart stopped for a short time every time the anti-air fire of the pirates missed his pod and those of his comrades. Thankfully, none got hit since all signals were still online when they hit the ground.
Since shots were coming from the front, opening the pod in that direction would be a problem. After releasing the straps and a few hand movements, the back of the pod shot out, and James moved backward slowly, holding up his rifle. Going around the pod, James started firing in the direction the shots came from, laying down suppression fire.
Shortly after, his teammates joined him, and the fire from the other side weakened until it was only a fraction from before.
"Eta-6, Eta-7, get to the supply pod and put up the barriers," James called over the comms and got a positive reply from them. "Everyone else, keep the enemy occupied. The Navy should be finished soon, and reinforcements are on their way. But we have to make sure the Anti-Air will be able to shoot them out of the air. Eta-2, Eta-3, when the barriers are up, we will place signal disruptors further to the front. Those should make it possible in combination with the scramblers on the shuttles, that they can land with minimal danger."
"Understood!"
While most of his attention was on the enemy, keeping them down and killing one whenever he had the chance, from the corner of his eyes, James kept a sliver of attention on the progress of Eta-6 and Eta-7. The two soldiers ran to one of the four pods that had come down without any soldiers within but equipment and ammunition. They each grabbed a pair of poles around a meter in height and moved them toward the front. One half of the pair got stabbed into the ground, and the other one, too, three meters away.
"Deploying barriers!" called out Eta-6, and an orange semi-translucent barrier appeared between the two poles.
"Get into cover!" ordered James, thankful that the team had some additional cover than just the drop pods and the few natural barriers around. Crouching behind it certainly beat laying on the ground to make a target as small as possible.
While most of the team went behind the covers and switched to their long-range weaponry since they could now take a bit more time to scout targets and eliminate them without compromising their safety, Eta-6 and Eta-7 were still on the move to connect cables between the poles and the drop-pod where they came from to connect them with the internal generator because the batteries within the poles wouldn't hold long from the constant energy spent by stopping bullets.
Of course, that was only the first piece of equipment they would put up. The other drop-pods had other parts that would help make their landing zone into a well-fortified position, including two mounted cannons and a few artillery pieces. Furthermore, the disruptors were inside them, too.
"Eta-3," James said before taking a moment to punish the Batarian, who didn't keep his head fully behind cover. "Grab the disruptors. You're going to be our packhorse. Eta-2, you're his bodyguard and keeping our six clear. Five, you are in command while we're away."
He got a positive reply from everyone, and they started moving without hesitation.
It didn't take long until he got a tap on the shoulder. "We are ready to go, leader," said Eta-3.
"Two?"
"Also ready, sir!"
"Alright, then let's move," said James, and moved slowly to the side where he noticed some large rocks that would work as cover during their advance.
"We're going to lay down suppression fire in a minute. The first mounted cannon should be up by then, making it easier on you."
"Good, Five. Call through the comms when the artillery is ready.
We're moving!"
Running in a crouch was never a fun exercise, but it kept their profile low and difficult to hit by enemy fire. Dirt was thrown up in splashes all around them whenever a bullet hit the ground close to them, and from moment to moment, James was notified that a few hit his shield, and its energy was going down before rising up again. The lowest it got was down to a third.
The rate of enemy fire was simply too high to get through without getting hit.
Thankfully, their three-person team made it close to the first location for the targeting disruptor before the enemy wisened up and targeted them specifically since they were a closer and easier target than the group at the ever more fortified landing zone.
"How long is it going to take?" James called through the comms. "Shouldn't the cannons be up already?"
"Had a few technical problems, leader. But now, we have both up and running. Get ready to move," replied Five, and a moment later the sound of a heavy and quick-firing gun sounded in the distance, followed by the enemy fire coming to a sudden halt.
Taking the opportunity, James and the other two sprinted to the first location, and Eta-3 pulled one of the disruptors off his back and planted it in the ground. After a few hand movements, the disruptor lighted up blue, showing that it was now active and a small orange kinetic barrier sprang up around it to protect it from errant explosions.
"First position clear, three to go," said James.
If their progress now was any indicator, this whole invasion was going to be over sooner than anyone expected.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
March 18th, 2175
04:23
Lesh'ka-System
SSV Kilimanjaro
In Orbit of Torfan
'This invasion wasn't going to end any time soon.'
That was the conclusion Admiral Hackett came to after looking over the data on his pad. The pirates' bases were even more fortified than previously thought, and the people on the ground were paying the price. He couldn't even fault the AIS for giving faulty information, as most of it was correct. Yet, the number of Anti-Air and the strength of their shields were higher than expected.
And they couldn't even use their frigates in the atmosphere to bombard the shields, going around the Citadel edicts that prohibited orbital bombardment since the fortification's defenses would shoot the frigate out of the sky before it could fire even one shot.
Hackett gave the pad to a passing serviceman and put his hands together behind his back while staring out of the bridge's window down to the moon's surface. His right thumb massaged the back of his left hand, trying to get rid of his anxiety out of view from the rest of the crew. Showing any signs of nervousness or doubt was unacceptable in such a situation. Any doubts or second-guesses shown by the commander-in-chief could affect the whole operation, especially the soldiers' morale.
The space battle had been a breeze. The pirate fleet wasn't even able to destroy one ship of the Alliance's fleet. Of course, the surprise effect from coming out right under their formation with target information already entered into the systems destroyed any chance the pirates had to create an opportunity to strike back effectively. After all, their heavy hitters were targeted first and destroyed in the first moments of the engagement. After that, it was more like clay pigeon shooting than a space battle.
The battle on the ground hadn't even started beyond making certain that the Alliance had a few secure landing zones, yet even then, they had a few setbacks, giving them a hint about what would follow for the rest of the campaign.
Ten teams with more than twenty special forces members went to the moon in the first wave. Before the second wave could mobilize, three of the teams were reduced to critical numbers and had to retreat toward the positions where the other teams held their positions. But even those didn't come out unscathed. The other seven had taken losses, too, before being reinforced.
Afterward, the attacks against the smaller pirate holdouts and bases went as expected, with minimal losses in lives and equipment. Still, they hadn't been a concern in any of the briefings before the operation either.
The problems were the five better-defended pirate bases where the bigger and better-equipped pirate groups holed up. One of them was, of course, the suspected Hegemony group, and, instead of simply hiding behind their walls, they managed to convince the surrounding pirate groups to abandon their hideouts and congregate in their base.
Detrimental to the Alliance's hopes, the other four groups followed their lead and did the same, making any attack a costly endeavor.
Just like the advanced guard discovered.
The direct way wasn't going to work. It would be pure attrition, and while the numbers were on their side, Hackett wasn't going to send good soldiers into the jaws of death for negligible gains.
Yet, even the generals, majors, and anyone else with a modicum of tactical knowledge had no better idea than to throw people at the problem.
The longer he thought about it the harder Hackett pressed his thumb into the back of his hand, hoping the pain would help him to focus on other ideas.
It didn't.
"Sir?" came the confused voice from one of his sensors officers.
"What is it, son?" asked Hackett, secretly glad for the distraction.
"A ship just entered the system. It has the correct identification codes for the zone, but the name doesn't show up in any list."
'So, it is either AIS or Black-Ops' Hackett thought but out loud he asked: "What's the name of the ship. And what class is it?"
"It is a frigate, sir. Evermoon-Class."
"Evermoon-Class? The name sounds familiar, but I don't think I've seen it within the 5th fleet."
"It is a rather recent class. Built by the Olympus-Shipyards. And only a handful at that. I only know about them because I spent six months there around a year ago before being reassigned to the Kilimanjaro, sir."
"And the name?"
"Ares-Two," replied the sensors officer and the admiral's heart skipped a beat.
He couldn't be sure just from the ship's name, but "Ares" was used in conjunction with one of the Alliance's special projects. Hackett hadn't asked, or even thought, about a single team to be attached to his command as the people in charge of the project hadn't green-lit their deployment into active zones.
Of course, he wasn't directly involved with the project and only got sporadic updates about their readiness like everyone else not part of the very elective circle composed of the director of the AIS, the people in charge of the project, the minister of the defense, and the office of the Alliance's president.
Another option was that the name of the ship was simply coincidental and it had nothing to do with the special project, but Hackett didn't believe in coincidences. Furthermore, "Ares-Two" wasn't a conventional name for an Alliance frigate.
Instead of mulling over the possibilities anymore, the admiral, after thanking the sensor officer, went over to the comms officer and said: "There is a new ship in the system, call-sign 'Ares-Two.' I want you to hail them."
"Will do, sir," said the rather young comms officer. It took only a few seconds before the connection was established, and Hackett got a nod that the other ship would hear him.
"This is Fleet Admiral Steven Hackett of the 5th fleet, commander-in-chief of this operation. You are entering a restricted zone. Identify yourself."
"Omega-5-6-1-Alpha-Alpha-5," responded a female voice immediately.
Recognizing the code, Hacket said to the comms officer: "I need you to leave the station to me for now. Disconnect completely. I'll call you back when I am finished."
"Sir, yes, sir," answered the comms officer, and got up from her seat while disconnecting her Omni-tool from the station. After she walked a few steps away, Hackett sat down on the freshly vacated seat, and within a few seconds, he upped the encryption of the channel with his personal codes.
"The line is now encrypted on the Omega-Black level. We can talk freely now," Hackett assured his interlocutor.
"Very well, sir. I am Captain Victoria Day, attached to the office of the Alliance Intelligence Service. Under the orders of Director Clark, I am transporting four teams of the Ares Project. Their orders are to disengage the air defenses of the pirate bases designated as Bravo, Charlie, Delta, and Epsilon," a small holographic image of Torfan appeared in front of Hackett, the four "less defended" pirate bases highlighted, "and then regroup for a decisive push on Alpha Base. There, they will create an opening for your forces to take the base with the available personnel on the ground."
"Is that an order?" asked Hackett, a dangerous edge to his voice. While he was thankful for any additional troops, he didn't like that someone away from the battle thought they knew the situation better than anyone present. He welcomed it when his subordinates suggested plans or ideas, even if they contradicted his own, but going over his authority or subverting it, wasn't something he was going to let slide.
"No, sir," responded Captain Day, and Hackett could hear a slight tremor in her voice that she got under control quickly. "It was simply the battle plan General Klesky recommended. She created it from the same data presented to your staff before the operation. Of course, Director Clark signed off on the order to give you authority over the teams as long as they operate within this zone."
"Good," said Hackett, his umbrage lowering. "Is there anything else I should know?"
"Yes, the Ares teams on the ship went over the recent battle data and recommend sending them in as duos to increase the chances of success."
"And how did they get the battle data?"
"AIS channels," came the reply as if it explained everything. And it did.
"Very well," sighed Hackett, knowing better than to look a gift horse further into the mouth than he already did. "Send me the battle plans the teams constructed and I'll look over them. You will get a reply if I approve of this battle plan or have recommendations for changes. Do you understand?"
Perhaps it was a petty move of him, to assert his dominance and his position as the commander-in-chief, but it had to be done. Otherwise, everyone who thought they had a chance would try to walk over him or go forward without his approval, something that could be extremely dangerous in combat situations where outside parties may or may not have all the information or knowledge about his plans.
Yet, there was one thing that Hackett from his time as a simple sailor. The people who had to do a job, task, whatever one wanted to call it, knew the best how to accomplish it. From that reason alone, Hackett was sure that their plan was the best and would probably make adjustments themselves after he forwarded the current battle data.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
March 18th, 2175
16:55
Lesh'ka-System
Torfan
A hail of bullets barely missed him as he threw himself into a slide, discharging his rifle in four short bursts, taking down a pirate with every burst.
"Charges planted, 2 minutes till explosion," called Lieutenant Commander Segenro.
"Move it, people," said Mark Shepard. "We have a rendevous with Alpha and Delta, so we should go."
"Yes, Commander!" came the replies from his teammates. Since they were on the same channel as Charlie team, Mark knew that Commander Silicas heard them and would probably support their retreat. After all, the explosion from the other side of the base he heard a few minutes ago meant that the anti-air defenses at the east side of the base were already destroyed.
From the moment, Segenro called that the charges got planted, it was a run-and-gun retreat. It wasn't their job to take on the whole base, simply to destroy anything that could stop the Alliance from supporting their ground forces from the air. If Admiral Hackett decided to level the base with the secondary armaments of a frigate, nobody would object.
Most would probably prefer it.
Besides, seeing a structure destroyed by atmospheric fire while standing in viewing distance was a spectacle without an equal. It gave one a real feeling of how destructive a ship's cannons truly were.
Mark admitted to himself that he sounded like a psycho in his own mind when he admitted to himself that it was magnificent. It spoke to a part of his being that was fascinated by violence.
Perhaps that was one of the reasons why he had been tapped for the Ares Project after he finished the N5 training course. Back then, he held the record for the highest test scores. At least, until his sister beat it. But only on the average. He still had the highest scores for shooting and cross-country march.
Nevertheless, between the two of them, it was Marcus who joined the project, and not his sister. Of course, his DNA played a role, but it was mostly his personality that was better suited for the project and the small teams they operated in. His sister, on the other hand, was better suited for command and navigating through a political battlefield in her own unique way.
Furthermore, perhaps it was for the best his sister wasn't chosen. She was always dedicated to the Alliance and cooperation with other species. She wasn't a blunt tool like him who could follow orders without question if they were morally dark grey. After all, she was a bit of an idealist and probably wouldn't feel comfortable with the changes the project brought to his body.
Some mornings, when he woke up, Marcus didn't feel like he was in his own body. His hands were slightly bigger than before the second gene therapy. And don't get him started on the coordination difficulties. It was like going through a second puberty.
Another thing was how his mind worked. It was difficult to notice for Marcus at first. After all, how does one notice something like that? But after a while, he noticed that he worked through problems quicker than before, saw and perceived more details in his surroundings, could think about two or more problems at the same time, and sometimes time seemed to slow down for him.
Like right now.
Marcus was thinking about his past and philosophical questions, all while he was running and shooting down enemy combatants without missing more than 5% of his shots.
"Mark!" called Segenro over comms, and every member of Bravo team threw themselves to the ground as the shockwave of the explosives went over them.
Just a few seconds later, Marcus was back on his feet and covered his teammates as they did the same.
Without any orders or encouragement, his team was back on track, and as Marcus had expected, Charlie team appeared and gave them support from some distance away.
Their retreat was quick work, and Marcus slid down next to Charlie's leader and said: "Thanks. Everything went well on your side?"
"No problem. Yeah, no one got hurt badly. Needed a single patch-up job with a splotch of Medi-gel," replied Commander Nia Yong of Charlie team.
"Got through the armor?" asked Marcus, surprised.
"No, nothing got through. Rivers got hit by a collapsing wall and bruised his ankle. Would probably affect his efficiency, so he put it on before it got bad."
"These armors are amazing, aren't they?" asked Marcus rhetorically.
Commander Yong didn't reply to his question but said:" We got to move. Our extraction point is three kilometers to the north, and Alpha and Delta are already on their way to the rendevous point."
"Heard anything?"
"Timothy said it went as easy as the first one."
"Then that leaves only one."
"Yeah, but we will have a ten-hour break when we arrive at the rendevous point. Hackett wants to pull more assets together for the final push. Besides, I think he wants us to be part of the actual attack than simply sabotaging their defenses."
"Sounds good to me," said Marcus while doing a quick spin, throwing a smoke grenade in the direction of the pursuing pirates.
The break sounded good to him. Marcus knew that his team could and would go longer than they already had, but this was the first time they were deployed into an actual battlezone with real consequences since their joining the project. After a while, exhaustion would begin to creep in no matter how much training they had, and exhaustion led to avoidable mistakes.
Besides, their ammo was running low and needed replenishing.
It didn't take long until the pursuers stopped.
Perhaps it was because of their speed or the lines of Alliance soldiers and tanks they were approaching. They didn't stop or even decrease their speed until they arrived at the shuttle that would bring them to their next deployment zone.
After their two teams were inside the shuttle, its doors closed and took off, Marcus took off his helmet for the first time in eight hours.
"The air circulation is not bad, but nothing beats the stale air inside a shuttle," joked Marcus, getting a few of his fellow project members to chuckle.
"Well, neither the air inside the suit nor the shuttle did anything for your sense of humor, Marcus," hit Yong back, getting a few chuckles herself.
"It is a family thing," he responded. "Believe it or not. Mine is still good compared to the rest of the family."
"That doesn't reassure me. If yours is already this bad, I have no hopes for them."
Marcus simply shook his head in reply, a small smile on his face. A banter like this between the two team leads helped the rest of the team to relax as it showed that there was nothing to worry about. The next time to worry was right before the next part of the operation.
Thankfully, it would be the last part as well.
Comments
Mark
Hey it's been a while chapter soon
Nato J
Hope Author is fine, Interesting Times is great story on Mass effect.
