DR: Hello everyone! Here's the next chapter for you. I'm almost finished typing this story up, so there's no point holding you back any more. Expect weekly updates from now on.
O'Neill: Cool.
Teal'c: Indeed.
DR: Just to warn you all, this is going to be one of thse 'blood n' guts' type chapters. I don't go into too much detail, but things do get messy. Be warned...
Chapter 14: Double Cross
The Alliance transport was a graceless thing, a flattened tube with a cluster of engines at the rear and a rounded nose and cockpit at the front. Two large wings ran along its sides, clearly intended to swing out in an atmosphere, but to be tucked away when in space. Guided, and guarded, by a pair of Vipers, it now was on approach for Alpha Bay.
Achilles watched the sensor screens, unable to shake his concerns. They had already scanned the ship for explosives, but there wasn't any, nor were there any weapons. Nevertheless, he felt uneasy.
The recovered crewmen and women from the Dominator were stood together neared the lit landing area, a half dozen crewmen watching them. There were fifty-seven of them all told; along with the woman who they had picked up in an escape pod, four others had wanted to stay.
The transport had now entered the bay, and was slowly approaching the landing area. There was nothing untoward, and yet that knot of anxiety only grew.
As the lean ship settled down, the gathered Alliance personal began to drift towards it, clearly eager to board and get off his ship...
Suddenly something leapt from the hatchway of the ship even before the side ramp had fully lowered. A tongue of flame erupted from the shape even as it landed, and Achilles could only watch as several of the Alliance personal stumbled and fell... as did the Colonial crewman behind them.
More black suited figures raced out of the ship, some firing off bursts from guns, others charging brazenly, gleaming blades in their hands. The Alliance crew backed up, obviously in panic. Some clearly tried to communicate with these men, but they were ignored. These... monsters cut them down as they went for the Colonial crewmen, leaving bloody trails in their path. From the far side of the transport more black suited figures raced out, running faster than any human ever could.
"Seal Alpha Bay NOW! Evacuate Alpha pod of all personal, except warriors!" As the crew frantically began to yell orders into their comms, Achilles watched as the assaulting troops butchered even more of their own people, their long blades dripping blood. Behind the massacre, one figure hurled itself at the hatch that had just sealed in its face. The hatch withstood the assault, and despite not being able to see the persons face, the pose was clearly one of confusion.
It only lasted a couple of seconds, as the figure raised one misshapen arm, and a bright needle fine laser beam emerged from one lump, and began to cut into the hatch. A second joined in on the assault on the hatch. Several others were clawing at vents, trying to literally rip the covers off.
"Tell the marines to move in and prepare to repel boarders."
X-X-X-X-X-X
The two molten lines joined, and with a heavy thud the section of hatch contained within was pushed out. The Alliance Special Troops poured out, each silent except for their footsteps. Across the bay, the other hatch they had attacked also failed, and more troops pushed outwards. A vent within the bay was also ripped off, and the last four troops crawled within, worming their way deeper into the Colonial ship.
The ten troops moved quietly and quickly, with deadly intent. But the ship around them was silent. Not one crewman crossed their path.
Then the lead trooper stepped out into a larger, broader corridor... and was struck in the flank by a thick red beam.
The skin at the point of impact was super heated, a small localised explosion that knocked the trooper flat. Despite the grievous wound in his flank, the trooper stood back up as his companions rushed out and charged towards the source of the bolt.
A full squad of Colonial Marines awaited them several dozen meters away. As the Alliance assault troops charged, they cut loose with their blaster rifles. The first trooper fell, a half dozen blaster bolts tearing his chest apart. The second lost an arm, but continued to run towards the Colonials at a frightening rate. Another volley of blaster fire cut him down, but there were still several more coming.
Bullets began to fly back at the Marines, who were kneeling in hatchways and lying prone on the deck. Most clattered off their armour, but some hit the small gaps between the plates. However, the inner layers of their armour were made from a tough weave threads, and they reduced the impact of the rounds a lot. Even so, the men within still felt the hits.
A third Alliance trooper fell, one leg sheared off, when the Colonial sergeant decided to change tactics. "Specialist, open up!"
The other marines ducked back into cover, ceasing fire on the Alliance troops. This was because the squad's 'Specialist' had brought his weapon to bear. The Specialists were the marines' heavy weapon personal, intended to give squads the means to engage targets that could shrug off blaster fire, or deal with certain tactical situations.
The marines had ducked back because the weapon now bearing on the intruders was going to make that corridor a very dangerous place to be.
With a roar the 10mm pulse repeater laser cut loose, spewing forth a deluge of bolts. Based on the old 20mm laser and old Earth Vulcan weaponry, the Repeater fired heavy anti-infantry bolts that were not much less powerful that the blasts from the older laser cannons. Against infantry, even armoured infantry, they were overkill.
After five seconds, and over a hundred bolts, the trooper ceased fire, and the others emerged, looking down the corridor.
Nothing moved apart from the wisps of steam from four of the seven bodies.
Seven bodies.
At a gesture from the sergeant, the six regular marines moved up, alert.
Although they were expecting it, the attack was still a shock when it came. One of the Alliance troopers leapt out from a narrow cross passage so quickly it was almost a flash of black. Both feet crashed into the marine targeted, sending him bowling across the passageway. A swung arm brought a heavy blade into the chest of the marines buddy, but the armour the man wore saved him from a disembowelling strike. The force was enough however to break several ribs and send him crashing to the deck.
The Trooper didn't last long, as the other four marines blasted it before it could move again.
Then the second struck, the long curved blades lashing out and almost ripping the flesh from the back of a marines leg off. The trooper rolled and evaded the return fire, lashing out with its own guns, one shot catching a marine in the jaw. The trooper rolled into an open hatchway, but before the Marines could think about going after it there was a roar of an organoid, before there were the sounds of struggle. Then a wet sounding snap. The organoid growled to let the others know it had won.
As a medic began to tend to the wounded marines, the sergeant hurried up the corridor to where one had called for him. There they looked down onto the last of the Alliance Troopers, at last able to get a good look.
The trooper was human, at least in form. The figure was covered head to toe in a matt black skin suit, thicker in areas. The forearms were lumpy, with the muzzles of gun barrels poking out over the back of the hands, and a long blade that reached out from the underarm. A shorter blade reached up the front of the shin to just above the knee. The figure within the suit was well muscled, the face hidden by a forbidding mask. A belt held a number of small pouches.
The Trooper was wounded, badly. One leg was missing from above the knee, and the left arm was hanging useless. The large, head sized crater over the left shoulder blade explained that. There was also a blaster wound to the gut, and yet despite the horrific injuries the Trooper was trying to get up and attack them. Only the marines boot on the right forearm kept the Trooper from attacking them with the weapons there.
Looking over their captive, the sergeant noted how the body suit appeared to have an inner layer of wire mesh. But what shocked him was an observation he only just noticed.
The bone of the Troopers left thigh was protruding out from the charred flesh. Thing was, the bone was not bone at all, but metal.
The sergeant quickly whacked the Trooper on the temple with the butt of his blaster to knock it out. The trooper seemed dazed for a moment, but then continued to struggle. It took three hits in succession to render him unconscious.
X-X-X-X-X-X
On the other side of the landing bay the Alliance Troopers reached the Colonial marines before they could set up a fire point. Two were blasted before they closed, but then the fight descended into a brutal melee. The blinding speed of the Alliance Troops was matched only by their strength... and the durability of the Colonial's armour. Time and time again blows that would have alright killed a marine were deflected or greatly reduced by the armour.
It didn't save all of them. No body armour, no matter how good, is ever all protective. However, the battle of attrition favoured the marines, assisted by a number of Warriors led by Starbuck arriving and taking shots at the Troopers when they could.
The last troop managed to thrust his arm blade into the marine sergeant, going in underneath his arm. The blade punctured a lung before lodging in the Colonial's collar bone. Despite the pain, the sergeant drew his sidearm with his free hand and shot the trooper in the face before he collapsed from the pain and blood loss.
Of the remaining four Troopers, one slipped out of the ducts early... and right into the sights of a half dozen Warriors, who wasted no time unloading into the dark figure. He made it within three metres of them before finally falling to the deck. The Warriors took no chances, and put a couple dozen more shots into the prone figure.
The last three were crawling spider like through the ducts, and were close to the junction that led into the main hull when a wall of fire rushed at them. The lead Trooper writhed in the flames, cooked alive within its armour, as the other two beat a hasty retreat. The rear one exited the ducts, only to find itself staring do the barrel of a huge gun, held by a Marine. As the Trooper lifted its foot to charge, the Marine fired. The 30mm laser, formerly a Viper weapon, left very little remains.
The last Alliance Trooper was the team leader. Seeing that all its operatives were dead, it set off the bandoliers of explosives it carried. The blast tore apart the duct work around it, but did very little damage to the ship itself.
X-X-X-X-X-X
"Sir, report from the Marine Lieutenant. All hostiles eliminated, and the Alliance transport has been secured."
Achilles nodded, his eyes narrowed. "Get me the Alliance Commander. And make sure the other ships receive this too."
Rather than taste their captains ire, the bridge crew hurried to do as he ordered.
The Alliance captain appeared on screen, the bridge behind him in better condition. "Colonel. I was not expected you to contact us again."
"And why would you think that? Maybe because you expected me to be dead?" Achilles words were colder than space.
The Alliance operative sighed slightly. "To a degree, yes. Now, are you calling to surrender?"
"No. I'm calling to inform you that your boarding party that you slipped into the transport sent over for the crewmen we offered to return to you – in an act of good faith – have been defeated."
The operative's eyes widened in shock. "You're lying."
Achilles smiled grimly. "Oh, it gets better. Your men slaughtered the crewmen waiting to board your ship. Your own men butchered them."
"No... It's not possible."
"Lieutenant, run the recording from the monitors in Alpha Landing Bay, from just as the Alliance transport entered the bay."
The recording ran, and Achilles made himself watch it through again. Watch as the Alliance crew were torn apart by troops from their own side, watch as blood went flying. This time around, he noted that the Colonial crewmen did manage to get a few shots off. One trooper was hit twice, another a glancing in the arm. As the recording came to a close, a crewman handing him a transcript. He glanced at it as the Alliance operative came back online.
"My men have found nineteen of your people still alive in the bay. Once the medics have stabilised them, we'll have them, and the bodies of the dead, loaded onto your transport, which will be free to return to you."
On the screen the Alliance Operative looked at him impassively. "Colonel, you and your crew are dead men if you do not surrender now. Once the fleet is brought to bear, you can not survive."
"If your 'fleet' is of the same grade as the ships you sent at us here, then you are mistaken. We could have destroyed all your ships before you were even in range to engage us. Compared to what we were trained to fight, you are nothing." Achilles tone was filled with certainty. "You attack us again, you'll only be sending people to their deaths, needlessly."
Thunderchild began to move past the ruined Alliance fleet, Serenity tucked safely underneath her. None of the Alliance ships moved, or tried to lock weapons.
Except one.
The Arrowhead cruiser suddenly swung about, till it was pointed at the larger Colonial ship. Engines flaring randomly, it began to accelerate towards the Thunderchild.
Achilles sighed. His ship could easily get out of the way, but that would mean revealing the extent of her power. Wanting to keep it a secret as long as possible, he knew what he had to do.
"Gunnery control, lock onto that ship. Fire on my mark. Hail them."
He stared at the screen. The Alliance didn't reply, but he knew they could hear him.
"Don't. Don't make us kill you."
The Alliance ship came on.
X-X-X-X-X-X
Mal watched with baited breath as the Alliance ship, identical to the one that he reckoned the Operative who'd caused him to go to Miranda – the planet, not the young woman – came thundering towards Thunderchild, her intent clear. He also heard Achilles request, and the lack of reply.
Just when he began to think that Achilles wouldn't give the order, his ship opened fire.
A hail of red laser bolts tore into the already battered ship. The sharp, arrow like prow softened and warped, great sheets of metal sloughing off as it began to run molten. Explosions tore her apart from within as the lasers bit deep. A bright glare marked the death of her reactor, and in a series of blasts the remains of the ship were tore apart. The twisted remains drifted away, none heading near the Colonial ship.
Mal looked towards the other Alliance ships. None of them seemed to notice the death of one of their own. They stayed quiet, the only movement being the still active craft moving towards their listing comrades.
Soon those ships were left behind, and space around them was empty once more.
Zeke: (from behind sofa) Is it over?
DR: Yes, it's over. For now.
Lightninng: (flicks through set of pages)Hmm... so next time we...
DR: LIGHTNING!
Lightning: ARRGGHH! *Vroomm!* (races out in a squeal of tires)
DR: Truthfully, I'm considering merging the next two chapters. Both are a little shorter than chapter 12, but combined are longer than the previous. Let me know which you'd like people, one long or two short...