their weapons thumped into the ground all around the vehicle
The Armschlager opened fire again in return, blasting apart thick chunks of masonry as the commando gunner sprayed the Krenaran positions with lead. The other four began returning fire through fire ports in the high tensile polycarbonate windows. Two Krenarans screamed as they were hit, tumbling into the dirt.
Vargev yanked the steering wheel hard, the raider skidded and turned south throwing up great clods of earth and grass as it sped between the ruins and the loading area. However, they were now attracting weapons fire from both buildings.
A shot smashed into the passenger side of the A.T. V, and the commando sitting next to Vargev suddenly went limp. His weapon clattered onto the foot-well of the 4x4.
The other commandoes opened fire through the fire ports once again, several Krenarans fell from the buildings as shots slammed home, landing with a dull, wet thud on the ground below. The roof mounted Armschlager raked them with yet more fire.
Nikolai sharply turned the vehicle east again, and skidded through the mangled front facade of the loading area.
The Liberty dwarfed them, jutting out of the front of the building where it had come to rest. Sparks from flailing circuits fizzed and popped around them, smashed girders and crumpled metal debris littered the floor from the colossal impact of the 149 metre long ship crashing headlong into the structure.
Four Krenarans were cautiously advancing on the stricken ship, the roof mounted Armschlager quickly silenced them in a deafening hail of rounds. They fell to the floor gurgling, white blood oozing out onto the smooth concrete floor.
Vargev quickly grabbed his weapon and climbed out of the vehicle. He did a quick visual scan of the Liberty, it had sustained heavy damage, its rear engines were a mess and one of its torpedo launchers reduced to nothing more than twisted scorched metal. He had never seen the Liberty take such a beating. Jesus, he thought, this thing looks like it’s been in world war three.
He ordered the rest of the commandoes to cover the position as he attempted to enter the Liberty by opening the port crew hatch. With a weak hiss of de-pressurised air, the hatch opened and the colonel clambered inside.
The interior did indeed look like a scene from world war three, main power was down and the lights were out. Vargev fished out a small torch from a pouch in his webbing, and fixed it to the barrel of his weapon. Shattered displays threw out sparks from damaged conduits, smashed girders and various detritus covered the floor, the colonel had to pick his way through carefully.
Crewmen were slumped on the floor in various places, some dead and some merely unconscious.
He continued carefully picking his way through the ship, his torchlight throwing up shadows in the gloom. Some sections still had power, probably running on emergency backup. How long it would last, he had no idea. It was nearly eight months since Nikolai had last set foot on this ship and it felt, strangely enough, as if he was getting re-acquainted with an old friend.
He managed to make it to one of the main elevators, which, luck would have it, were still operable.
“ Bridge,” he said as he stepped inside, a garbled acknowledgement came through the speakers before slowly taking him to his destination, although noticeably slower than he remembered.
The bridge doors would not open, and with a heave, he managed to open them just enough to crawl through. The stench of smoke and melted circuits was present throughout the whole ship, but especially so here, it hung thick in the air, and his throat felt raw, he hacked and coughed occasionally, Nikolai saw that many of her crew were laid motionless on the floor.
One man groaned as he shuffled uncertainly, trying to get to his feet. He had a deep ragged gash on his upper arm which had stained his royal blue uniform a crimson colour. In addition to another wound on his forehead, just above his right eye.
Vargev quickly made his way over to the man in an effort to help, and as he neared, recognised the man as his old friend Michael Alexander. He held out a hand to steady him.
“ What the hell happened comrade?”
Michael held up a hand to his forehead, it throbbed painfully, “we were in a huge battle in orbit, we were hit, one of those damn command carriers. Drifted for a while before we regained control, then chased by two stealth ships before we crashed.” He lapsed back into unconsciousness.
Vargev gently shook the weakened Michael to awaken him again, “stay with me,” he said studying his friend. “Did they bring any reinforcements?”
Michael slowly opened his eyes again, “no, we came in a fleet, over one hundred and eighty ships, and the biggest fleet we ever put together. However, the Krenarans, they had three hundred. We were outnumbered almost two to one. The battle is still being fought in orbit.
Michael lapsed into unconsciousness a second time, however a medic had managed to make it onto the bridge, looking somewhat battered himself, his white uniform was blackened and torn in several places.
“ Over here!” Vargev called out in the darkness.
The medic made his way over to them, and studied Michael intently before bandaging his wounds with synth-flesh patches. “He’s in shock, and he has lost a lot of blood.”
The medic laid Michael flat out on the floor, and put together a portable stretcher. “I need to get him to sickbay; will you help me carry him?”
“ Of course,” Vargev nodded.
They carried the unconscious Michael down to sickbay, where Kathryn Jacobs, the British chief medical officer, gave him blood. Gradually Michael came around, he recovered quickly.
“ wha… where are we?” he asked.
“ In sickbay,” Vargev reminded him.
“ No; where are we?”
“ On the surface of Gamma IV,” Nikolai replied.
“ Good, so we made it through the atmosphere then?”
“ Yes, you made it through the atmosphere, although your landing sucked.”
“ Err…yeah, sorry about that. It’s good to see you again Nikolai, it’s been a while.”
“ It’s good to see you too, old friend.”
Michael looked up at the gentle form of Kathryn tending to him, “Well I suppose it had to happen some time.”
“ What had to?” Kathryn replied.
“ You had to save me, since I rescued you on Delta base all those months ago.”
Kathryn silently smiled as she continued to tend to his wounds.
Michael was soon on his feet however, and with no small amount of arguing from Miss Jacobs, left sickbay.
The lights gradually came back on, indicating that all the backup generators had now kicked in, Nikolai unclipped his torch from his weapon and placed it back in his webbing.
Kinraid joined them, and greeted Vargev. “Hello there colonel,” he saluted, “Heard a lot about ya’, so I have.”
“ No doubt you have,” Vargev replied, saluting in kind. He was unsure about Kinraid, although he was reluctant to make any judgements about the man. He had never met him before.
“ How’s the ship?” Michael asked the commander as the three of them walked together.
“ She’s taken quite a pasting cap’n, we don’t know if she’ll fly again.”
“ She will,” Michael smiled confidently, “it will take more than a little crash landing to keep her down, she’s a tough little cookie,” he paused as he rubbed his temples, his head still throbbed, he was still feeling the effects of concussion from the crash. “Any news from the fleet in orbit?”
“ None sir, communications are still down.”
“ Damn, okay I want a full damage assessment in one hour commander; get to it.”
“ Aye sir,” Kinraid said as he left the two men alone.
“ He seems like a good man,” Vargev said as they continued along the debris-strewn corridor.
“ Yeah, he is one hell of an officer too,” Michael replied with a nod.
