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Science Fiction

The mood in the room had been smothered to the point that if were to drop any lower, it would wrap around into manic chaos. Thirty-one red markers on the holographic display blinked and drew attention to themselves as they orbited the gas giant in the system.

“If they complete the gate, the frontier worlds are lost. They have to be stopped, now but … the nearest carrier strike group is the twelfth, and they won’t get here in time.” He looked at his reflection in the darkened screen of his terminal. Where he’d been a young captain only a few months earlier, he was now a commodore, and had aged at least ten years. Lines formed at the corners of his deep brown eyes, a few grey hairs showed at his temples, obvious in the otherwise jet-black hair. Dark circles gathered under his eyes, adding unwanted shadow to his warm brown skin.

“Commodore Singh, all due respect, sir, everything after ‘but’ is horseshit.” The woman who spoke looked out of place, wearing a track suit and trainers among a room full of dress uniforms and suits. Dull blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, showing a sun-darkened, beige face with dark freckles, and grey eyes. “The twelfth isn’t the closest or fastest resource.”

“Who are you?” he asked.

She stood and snapped to attention. “Major Brennan, sir, 48th SBS, Marines. Apologies for the state of my dress, but I was shuttled here directly from the gym on the Dublin.”

He nodded and she sat back down. “Major,” he said, “we may need to utilize the Dublin and Donegal to evacuate civilians. I’d lay good money on an Eire-class fast attack hunter against any two alien ships from anywhere. Still, there’s no way two fast-attack ships can take on a squid battle group.”

“We don’t have to take out the whole group, sir, just the flagship. Our intelligence says that without communication with their higher-ups, the squids are unable to organize and take coordinated action.”

“That’s all fine and well, I’m sure.” Governor Haight wore a rumpled, blue suit that set off her deep brown skin, her Afro uncharacteristically askew. Her pale brown eyes showed the weight of expectation. “How do we do that?”

Singh sighed. He gave the major a knowing look and set his jaw.

Brennan took control of the holograph. “Madame Governor, there’s no way for a fast-attack ship to fight through the battle group to the flagship, which is why we have to use stealth.” She entered a command that showed the class of each enemy ship, the flagship marked in purple. It was well within the sphere of other ships.

“Looking at it like this is misleading,” Brennan said, “as the space between each of those ships is a little over a kilometer. I’m suggesting we launch five, two-person BBs — that’s breaching and boarding torpedoes — with the goal of inserting a four-person and six-person team. It’s an hour and forty minutes from launch to attachment if we launch under cover of a patrol maneuver by the Dublin, staying just outside of the squid’s weapons range.” The display showed the Dublin in green moving toward the alien battle group, then turning a slow arc to return to their colony world. Behind the Dublin, five small, green lights continued on toward the alien ships.

She changed the display to show the layout of the alien flagship. “We attach two here,” she made a highlight on the display, “at the comms, and the other three here,” she made another highlight, “between engines and weapons, right near the escape pods.”

As she explained, the green markers representing the SBS squad members moved through the ship. “The first team cuts all communication. This cripples the rest of the battle group. Then they join forces with the second team here, at the main engine room, after the second team has disabled the escape pods. Once the engines are disabled, the full squad will go deck by deck, blowing or disabling every airlock, after which we detonate the BBs, exposing the entire ship to vacuum.”

The governor cleared her throat. “Don’t they breathe methane? Won’t the whole thing blow up, and you with it?”

“Their ship-board atmosphere is pure methane, no oxygen, so fire’s not a concern, unless we pump the ship full of an oxidizer, like the fluorine missiles. We don’t want to destroy it, though, we want to capture it.”

“We just pulled you here from the gym. How did you come up with this plan?” the governor asked.

Brennan smiled. “We gamed this out ages ago. We’ve just been waiting for an opportunity to capture a squid flagship.”

“How much oxygen do the BBs hold?” Singh asked. “Is it still just one hour, or have there been improvements?”

The major smirked. “One hour, sir. The upgraded versions aren’t due to be deployed to the fast attack ships for at least another two years.”

“With two hours of oxygen in your armor, that doesn’t leave a lot of time,” he said.

“Aye, sir. But we’ll get it done.”

“Madame Governor,” he asked, “what’s your decision?”

“What will you do once you detonate the boarding torpedoes?” the governor asked.

“If some of the other ships will move in closer to assist, we’ll expose the reactor to make it too radioactive for them to approach. If they don’t, we’ll sit tight until the twelfth gets here and they can capture the ship for intel.”

Haight looked between the major and the commodore. “The fleet won’t be here for a day and a half. Is nobody going to say it? It’s — you can’t — you’ll—”

Brennan looked the governor in the eye. “It doesn’t need to be said, Madame Governor.”

“Volunteers?” the commodore asked.

“I have too many. The entire squadron volunteered. We’ll draw names out of a hat, except for Lacey and Birkram. Lacey’s got a kid on the way, and Birkram has a two-year-old.” Brennan looked at the governor. “Madame Governor, do we have the green light?”

“What are the chances of success?”

“We’ll get it done, Madame Governor. Like our motto says, ‘By strength and guile.’”

“It feels wrong to throw away the lives of ten marines,” Haight said. “Is there no other way? Commodore?”

“Intel says they’ll finish the gate in the next ten to sixteen hours. After that, we have to admit defeat. They can bring thirty battle groups through in as many minutes.”

“If I may, Madame Governor,” Brennan said, “you aren’t throwing away ten marines. Ten marines are willing to pay the price to protect our borders from the squids, and considering the alternative, it’s a bargain.”

Haight took a deep breath. “Major,” she said, her voice cracking, “you have the green light.” Tears fell from her eyes, and she slumped in her chair.

The major stood and saluted. The commodore and governor both rose and returned her salute.

“God speed,” Singh said.

Haight looked like she was searching for words but not finding any. Brennan nodded at her. “Don’t worry, Madame Governor, we’ll make you proud. We knew when we gamed it out it might be a one-way trip.”

July 13, 2024 22:27

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