E.D.F Chronicles - E.D.F resurgent Read online

  The two Dominator assault walkers which Vargev had stationed there, opened fire immediately, a flurry of .50 calibre high velocity rounds from their heavy assault cannons tore into the charging Krenarans with frightening ease. Spent ammunition cases clattered to the ground all around the twin behemoths. The commandoes which had took up positions amongst the parked vehicles behind the dominators also opened fire, the immense hail of assault cannon fire and the commandoes own armschlagers was deafening, echoing all around the vast loading area, still despite the incredible amount of firepower being levelled at them the Krenarans still came on.

  The miniature particle cannon opened fire again, smashing into one of the Dominators, its heavy armour no defence against the sheer force of the weapon. A pall of thick smoke spewed from the great rent in the armour of the machine, and it staggered a couple of steps backwards, then burst into flames before finally falling backward with a deafening ‘clang’ as its steel armour slammed onto the concrete floor.

  The lone surviving Dominator desperately tried to continue the defence sweeping its heavy assault cannon in wide arcs, the muzzle flash blinding as dozens upon dozens of heavy caliber slugs burst from its myriad of spinning barrels, more spent casings skittered along the floor.

  There must have been fifty Krenaran corpses piled up all along the corridor to the landing pad, nobody had the time to count, just to shoot. Bodies lay everywhere, the stench of charred meat and blood hung in the air, the alien’s milky white blood formed into tiny rivulets running down the long ramped corridor to where the freighters were docked above.

  The huge Krenaran strode forward on his mechanical legs, giving off a hiss of released pressure as the bird-like feet slammed down on the concrete with such a force that it cracked underfoot. Calmly levelling the triple barrels of his weapon at the equally large assault walker tearing chunks out of his men, he clicked the internal trigger, and, with an intense blast of incandescent green energy, the second Dominator stopped motionless, its weapon hung limply by its side and it appeared to gently stoop forward.

  A ragged hole the size of a watermelon had torn straight through the bullet proof cockpit glass, and reduced the pilot inside into crimson jelly that smeared every panel and instrument throughout the interior cockpit. Commandoes defending the loading area continued to rake the onrushing Krenarans with weapons fire, a deafening explosion from a grenade thrown through the breach filled the corridor with smoke, around twenty more Krenarans had fell, the floor turned slippery from their blood.

  The advancing Krenarans returned fire and several commandoes were blasted back across the giant warehouse-like room. Landing in a bloodied heap with a crack as their heads snapped back and smashed into the smooth concrete flooring. The surviving commandoes knew they were fighting a desperate battle, and that the loading area was lost, but they had made the Krenarans pay dearly for capturing it.

  High above the base, stealth ships continued their attack runs. Several more torpedoes slammed hard into a weakened section of the perimeter wall, sending debris and shrapnel flying in all directions, this last attack was finally too much and a small section of the wall collapsed into a large pile of dust and concrete rubble, the Krenarans had finally succeeded in opening a gap big enough for them to get through.

  A lone Dominator advanced toward this gap, the muted ‘thump’ ‘thump’ of its feet could be heard as it stomped its way through the muddy grassland, groundwater pooled in the muddy depressions of its footsteps. A single Krenaran managed to scrabble through the pile of shattered concrete and was greeted by a hail of high power assault cannon shells from the approaching Dominator, its body was ripped apart from the impacts of the heavy weapons fire and flung back through the breach.

  Their objective complete, the stealth ships turned their attention to the forces defending the main gate, the hastily constructed barricades were already taking a beating from Krenaran weapons fire, the final remaining barricade was torn asunder by simultaneous blasts from two particle cannons, vaporising several soldiers using it as cover. However the firepower from four Dominators, together with cannon blasts from the Apollo battle tanks in support proved too much for the Krenarans, scores of the brutal aliens fell from the barrage of heavy assault cannon fire and the Apollo’s high velocity shells, their bodies littering the sodden ground. Those few surviving Krenarans fell back from the main gate, many of which were injured.

  The lone, brave Dominator defending the breach in the perimeter wall was relentlessly pouring fire into the oncoming Krenarans, his weapon smoking hot from the friction produced by the rapidly spinning barrels and the hail of hot lead he was pumping into the advancing aliens. Shot after shot raked them as they threw everything they had at the breach, his ammo counter was beginning to run low.

  In an effort to help the lone Dominator, struggling against near impossible odds, Vargev ordered some commandoes on a nearby roof to open fire. The awesome firepower unleashed from the commando fire teams’ Armschlagers tore into the advancing Krenarans, dozens fell as masses of high power rounds ripped through their alien bodies, their metallic battle armour no defence against solid slugs. Just for a moment it seemed as though the Krenaran were wavering under the intense firefight.

  Resolutely however, the aliens returned fire, pressing their numerical superiority. Fire from several of the Krenaran cannons slammed into the walker, knocking it backwards a pace or two, its feet dug a shallow trench in the ground which quickly filled with rainwater as the assault walker weathered the storm of fire. The pilot’s cockpit glass was cracked in several places; a large hole was blasted into it just above the pilots head. Its frontal armour was also torn and bent in several areas, exposing the delicate electronics and wiring underneath. The pilot gnashed his teeth, and held fast.

  Two of Vargev’s commandoes fell, as the Krenarans returned fire on them, their bodies plummeting from the roof of the warehouse. Vargev took aim with his own Armschlager and pressed the trigger, it bucked under the recoil of the high power rounds. One of the brutes fell, clutching its ruined face, a couple of others next to him hugged the wet ground, fearful of befalling the same fate.

  The surviving commandoes on the loading platform were not faring quite as well though, embroiled in a desperate rearguard action now as the Krenarans pressed their attack, gaining ground all the time. Three more men died, gaping holes blown through their chests. The massive Krenaran commander levelled his weapon and fired, the resulting blast flung two more commandoes like rag dolls high into the air, their bloodied bodies slamming into the steel clad wall behind them.

  The commandoes had put up an intense fight, but the Krenarans were now amongst them, and no human could match an eight foot tall Krenaran for brute strength, almost a dozen commandoes died as the bone crunching impacts of Krenaran fists and kicks snapped necks and broke legs and arms. The few surviving commandoes retreated out of the loading area completely, some were blasted face first into the concrete floor, as Krenarans shot them in the back as they ran, barely five commandoes had made it out alive, and two of them were badly injured.

  Vargev, having made his way to one of the warehouse roofs to get a better view had witnessed the retreat; he knew they had lost the loading platform. His commandoes were cut off from the rest of the base as the Krenarans now controlled all of the spaceport and adjoining loading platform, and would very soon occupy the ruins of the command building as well, silently he prayed for a miracle.

  The Gamma sun began to crest the distant Valcasian mountains, hailing the beginning of dawn for the third day and the fighting gradually ceased in its intensity, although the occasional crump of pulse rifle fire could be heard as well as the pounding of Apollo shells into the nearby Krenaran lines, who were now busily consolidating on the advances they had made throughout the night. The ‘Hell’s angels’ began counting the cost.

  Two Apollo’s and a Dominator had been lost defending the main gate, another two Dominators at the loading platform, as well as more than fifty soldiers,
both ‘Hell’s angels’ and commandoes were amongst the dead.

  Worst of all, General Steel was in critical condition from shrapnel injuries sustained during the defence of that main gate, which meant that Vargev, being next in the chain of command, was now in command of the defence, however, along with his fellow commandoes he was cut off from the rest of the base.

  Pacing across the roof of the warehouse, the Russian considered his options which he had to admit, were very few.

  Eventually he spied an abandoned Raider A.T.V, partly concealed by the corner of a nearby warehouse. Behind it a 7 tonne truck was parked which the engineers normally used to transport ammunition to the warehouses.

  Climbing down from the roof of the warehouse via an access ladder, he motioned for the surviving commandoes to do the same. As they all silently made their way over to him in the cover of the rear of the warehouses, he spoke to the assembled group.

  “Listen comrades, we are going to abandon the warehouses and form up with the rest of the armoured company on the other side of the base. But since the Krenarans hold the spaceport and what’s left of the command building, we’re on our own. To get to the other side, we’ll have to use those,” he pointed toward the abandoned vehicles.

  “Sir, what if we are fired upon, the truck is unarmed.”

  “We’ll cover you from the raider since it has an Armschlager on the roof.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  “Okay men, let’s move out!”

  They made their way towards the vehicles, carrying their injured with them, keeping in cover until they came to a wide road that ran between the warehouse buildings; this was the main route that ran all the way through the facility. Those that could, sprinted across the cracked asphalt and formed into a fire-team on the other side, covering the slower injured men with quick bursts of weapons fire. Eventually they all made it safely across the open expanse of road.

  Once there, Vargev quietly signalled that three were to ride in the A.T.V, and the rest in the truck. He joined the others in the Raider, taking the drivers seat. One of the commandoes quickly manned the roof mounted Armschlager, while the other trained his weapon through one of the vehicles fire-ports. The engines in both vehicles simultaneously thrummed into life, and together they both sped off.

  The damaged Dominator which had defended the breach in the perimeter wall so bravely, was finally relieved by two undamaged units, strengthening the defence in that area. The lone damaged Dominator slowly trudged its weary way back towards the tank factories for repairs. The Krenarans in the centre largely ignored it they were too busy fortifying their position, besides they didn’t think one damaged walker with barely any ammunition left was much of a threat.

  Vargev continued to drive down the main road, the Raider rocked gently as the thick all terrain tyres hit the occasional crack and divot in the tarmac, this road connected the warehouse buildings in the east through to the tank factories in the west. And from the warehouses to the munitions factories, where most of the ‘Hell’s angels’ were camped, just over a kilometre away.

  The biggest problem lay in getting past the spaceport, loading area, and command building currently held by the Krenarans, as all three were located perilously close to the road. There was however, a large field on the other side of the road, which was used for recreation and some small store houses further ahead. The heavy rain throughout the night had made the ground sodden, so any truck trying to cross that field would get quickly bogged down, Vargev silently cursed his luck.

  There was no other choice, they would have to keep to the road and risk the Krenarans opening fire on them. They would have to drive as fast as they could manage, he hoped they would not attract too much attention.

  The small convoy closed upon the spaceport, the commando gunner in Vargev’s Raider readied the roof mounted Armschlager. The other passenger also readied his weapon. The injured had all been loaded inside the truck since that was the safest place for them, some of the other commandoes were tending to them on route, however their condition was worsening, they needed to get to the triage centre and quickly.

  Since the raider was the lead vehicle, Vargev gently pressed the brakes; and steered the raider alongside the larger truck, taking up a position between the buildings on the right hand side of the road and the vulnerable truck where at least the Raider could give the truck some covering fire.

  Flashes of bright green energy began to slam into the ground around them from Krenaran weapons fire on the landing pad. The commando on the roof spun around and the Armschlager returned fire, peppering the sides of the tall building. Spent casings clattered upon the cabin floor of the A.T.V.

  The truck increased speed, as did the Raider to match. All along the landing pad enemy fire came hurtling towards them, blasting apart thick chunks of tarmac, a shot slammed into the passenger door, blowing a wide hole in it and shattering the bullet-proof Perspex glass, just missing the commandoes leg. Vargev kept going, there was no choice; he had to.

  5. The arrival

  The Liberty and the remainder of the giant battlegroup was only minutes away from Gamma IV now. The repairs on-route had gone well, however the damage on deck 6 still concerned Michael. The viewscreen shimmered into existence once again, “this is Admiral Sato of the Hermes; prepare to drop out of plasma drive on my order.”

  The viewscreen gently phased out of existence once again, leaving only the bridge wall.

  “Send the acknowledgement,” Michael replied.

  “Done sir,” Kinraid said.

  A tense pause fell across the bridge, “here we go, into the lion’s den,” Michael whispered.

  Kinraid looked over at him, “aye sir, nothing the Irish like best than a good old scrap.”

  Michael chuckled, Kinraid had that innate ability to lighten almost any situation. The viewscreen blazed into life for a second time, “Sato to the fleet, drop out of plasma drive.”

  “Okay let’s do it, drop out of plasma drive, ready all weapons and defensive systems, all hands battlestations!” Michael announced.

  At once the command team jumped into life, Eldathar brought the ship out of plasma drive. Logan Jones brought the weapon systems online and charged the exterior hull plating. Across the entire fleet other ships were doing exactly the same, all 188 ships dropped out of plasma drive simultaneously in a gigantic burst of bright white light that was visible for several hundred thousand kilometres.

  And found absolutely no trace of any Krenaran activity whatsoever.

  “I want full scans every few minutes, sensors to maximum,” Michael barked out his orders, where the hell are they, his brow creased in thought.

  “Aye cap’n, if they’re out there, we’ll find ‘em,” Kinraid said.

  “No doubt you will commander,” Michael replied, confident in his most senior subordinate’s abilities, Kinraid was like a bloodhound with the sensors.

  The viewscreen blazed into life once again, “Hermes to the fleet, advance toward the shipyards.”

  “You heard the man, ahead one half sub-light speed.”

  Eldathar gently pushed forwards on the arms of the chair, and the Liberty quickly picked up speed.

  “Anything yet?” Michael asked, casting a glance toward Kinraid.

  “Nothing yet cap’n, wherever they are, they’re well hidden.”

  “Keep trying.”

  Michael stared intently at the viewscreen as the fleet slowly, cautiously advanced toward the vast shipyards which made up the orbital part of Echo base. Tense minutes passed as the shipyards grew larger as they closed with it, like an enormous flattened orb, docking bays for all manner of ships encircled the main structure, massive communications and sensor towers extended from the centre of the facility like tiny metallic strings reaching up into the infinite vastness of space, the docking bays were all empty however. This was damned peculiar, he thought. The Echo base shipyards are one of the busiest in E.O.C.A space, there were always ships here, either being constructed, underg
oing upgrades, or being decommissioned. He knew those Krenaran ships had to be out there somewhere, but where, and how many?’

  “What about the shipyards, any life signs on board?”

  Kinraid performed a separate sensor sweep of the shipyard interior; studying the findings closely. The light from the console lit up his stubbled features in the darkened command centre.

  “Negative sir, no lifesigns,” he finally said.

  “What about damage to the station itself, anything?”

  “None, cap’n; if the Krenarans did take it, they took it intact.”

  ‘Nearly two thousand men lived and worked on the shipyards alone, where did they all go?’ Michael thought as he rested his chin in his hands, deep in thought.

  “I don’t like this captain, smells like a trap.” Lieutenant Jones said nervously.

  “Hold ya’ station, Lieutenant.”Kinraid said, fixing Logan with a stare.

  The Lieutenant nodded his understanding.

  Michael said nothing, as he returned his attention to the viewscreen, he knew full well the rest of the crew were anxious. Hell, he was anxious. It probably was a Krenaran trap, but right now he couldn’t do a damn about it.

  “Anything yet commander?” he repeated.

  “Nay Cap’n, seems the Krenarans won’t come out an’ play,” Kinraid said as he gazed intently into the sensor systems monitor.

  Michael couldn’t help but raise a smile at Kinraid’s choice of words. Damn, where the hell were they? You don’t capture a key shipyard like this, kill everyone on board, and then just abandon it, it didn’t add up and he didn’t like it for a second. There were too many unknowns here, what happened to the workers on the shipyards? Where were the ships they were working on? And where the hell were the Krenarans? These were three basic questions and Michael didn’t know the answers. He hated going into the unknown, because usually it was the unknown that bit you on the ass.