Theogony 3: Terra Stands Alone (20 page)

“Then we set the bomb in the op
s center and egress from the asteroid,” concluded Night. “Are there any questions?

“What are our rules of engagement?” asked the Ground Force Leader,
Master Gunnery Sergeant Joan Kinkead. A former Marine Corps drill sergeant, she believed there was only one way of doing things, the right way. There were three loves in her life: her kids, her country, and her Corps. But not necessarily in that order.

“The rules of engagement?” asked Calvin. “
Besides ‘kill every giant frog that we see?’”

“
No,” said Kinkead, “I was wondering if we were trying to do this quietly, without firing our rifles, or are we supposed to blast everything that we see? Also, are we supposed to shoot anything that moves, or are there noncombatants that we need to worry about?”

“
While I would like to go in as quietly as we can,” said Calvin, “doing things quietly means getting close to the Drakuls, where they have a pretty considerable reach and toughness advantage over us.”

“Reach, yes,” said Kinkead. “
As far as toughness goes, they may be tougher than some of these troops, but not me. I’ve always liked frog legs.”

“What I meant
is that they can take a lot more damage than we can,” said Calvin. Seeing Kinkead about to speak again, he added, “Well, they can take more damage than most of us anyway. Regardless, we want to kill them as far away from us as we can because they have a propensity to pull off peoples’ arms and legs.”

“A propensity?” asked Bob
, one of the kuji from the planet Domus. “What’s that?”

“It means they like to tear you apart and eat you while they’re still fighting you,” said Night. “Kill them on sight, from as far away as you can.”

“Got it,” said Bob, showing his teeth in the kuji version of a smile. Seeing a six feet tall tyrannosaurus rex smile was...uncomfortable...to say the least. “Shoot them from long range.”

“With regard to noncombatants,” continued Calvin, “
the Drakuls don’t have friends. If you see creatures from a different race, they are probably neutrals, at worst, and might be friendlies. Exercise restraint on anything other than Drakuls; Drakuls you can terminate with extreme prejudice.” He looked up and saw Lieutenant Finn walking into the room. “Do you have something for us?” he asked.

“Yes, I do,” replied Lieutenant Finn. “I knew there were a variety of bombs and warheads in the database;
I just needed to find the right one. I was looking for something that was big enough to destroy the station, yet small enough to be man-portable...or at least cyborg-portable,” he said, looking at Staff Sergeant Randolph. “Can you guys carry something that weighs 200 or so pounds?” he asked.

Staff Sergeant Randolph paused, doing the calculations. “I think we can,” he said, looking at Staff Sergeant Dantone, who nodded. “
We will need to readjust some things and maybe take a smaller weapons load, but yeah, it can be done.”

“Oh! Okay, that’s great. There was this one bomb that they called the Mother of All Bombs,” Lieutenant Finn said. “That would have done the job very well
, but it was way too large to carry. It was about 1,000 pounds, which I didn’t think would work.” Both cyborgs shook their heads. “That was what I thought, so I went with the other one. There are three of them waiting in the replicator room. I made a third one, just in case.”

“What are they?” asked Night.

“They are four-stage hydrogen bombs,” said Lieutenant Finn. “Each of them has a yield of about 100 megatons. That is equivalent to almost 3,000 times the combined power of the bombs that destroyed Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Hopefully, that will be enough.”

“
3,000
times the size?” asked Calvin. “Each? Yeah, that should do it...”

Calvin was putting on his suit when he heard a knock on his door. Looking up, he saw Steropes standing in the doorway. “Yes?” he asked.

“I had assumed I would be going on this mission, but I was just told that I’m not,” Steropes said.

“That’s correct,” Calvin replied, going back to putting on his gear.

After a pause, Steropes asked, “Is there a reason why I’m not going?”

“Yes,” said Calvin, “
Several. The first is that you’re not part of the platoon. You haven’t trained with us, so don’t know our tactics very well.”

“The same could be said for you,” Steropes said. “
Before we left, you were gone so much that
you
probably don’t know the platoon’s tactics very well, either. In fact, I’ve probably spent more time with the platoon since we got back from our last mission than you have. If it comes right down to it, I’m better integrated into the unit than you are.”

“Be that as it may, I’m their commanding officer,” said Calvin. “I
’m going.”

“You don’t
have to go,” Steropes noted. “Night could command the unit just as well as you could; with all of his training, he could probably do it better.”

Calvin could see that there was no way to win the argument. “This discussion isn’t about whether or not I’m going; I am.”

“You’re right, the discussion was about qualifications,” replied Steropes. “You haven’t said why I’m not qualified to go. If the unit gets into hand-to-hand combat, you know I’m better than you are. I’m a tai chi master and have been one for hundreds of years. How about you? Want to spar with me to see whether I go or not?”

“No, I have no desire to get into a ring with you so that you can kick my ass,” Calvin replied. “I’ll give you the point that you are better in hand-to-hand combat.”

“So I can go?” Steropes asked.

“No,” Calvin replied, “you can’t.”

“Can I ask why?” Steropes asked. “Obviously there is a reason. Is it that you don’t trust me? Didn’t I prove my worth in the coatl temple?”

Calvin sighed. “Yes, you proved your worth plenty of times
while we were inside the temple.” He paused and sighed again. “The problem is that I’m worried about you. You want to get into combat more than anyone else I’ve ever seen. It’s almost like you’re hoping to be killed. You said that you don’t have the same death wish as the rest of your civilization, but I’m worried your feelings have changed since you found out what happened to your home planet. I know if Earth were to be destroyed, it might color my actions. I might even want to run off and get myself killed; I don’t know. The bottom line is that I don’t mind that much if you want to go off and get yourself killed, but I’m worried about what the collateral damage would be to the platoon.”

“
Collateral damage?” Steropes asked.

“I’m worried about how many of my men and women are going to get killed as a result of you
r getting killed,” Calvin replied. “Until I know that you’ve adjusted to the new situation, I don’t want to take you into combat. Let’s just see how things go.”

“What if my presence could have saved lives?” asked Steropes
, playing his last card. “I have talents and knowledge your troopers do not. My skills and experience might be the difference between mission success and failure, from bringing everyone home safely to not returning at all.”

“I can see scenarios where that may very well be the case,” Calvin agreed.

“So I can go?” Steropes asked.

“Not this time.”

* * * * *

“This is combat reporter Bob
‘Danger’ Jones with the Frontline News Service. We’re at the frontline of the news. Today, I really am at the frontlines, as I’m here with the Terran Space Marines during their assault of a Drakul battle station. With me is their commander, Lieutenant Commander Shawn ‘Calvin’ Hobbs. Can you tell me what we’re going to do today, sir?”

“Sure, Bob,” replied Calvin with
the winning smile he’d been working on during the past two years of dealing with the media. “The Drakuls have converted an asteroid into a battle station and are moving it into position to attack our new allies, the Archons. We told the Archons that we would destroy the asteroid if they would help us with the defense of Earth. We’re inbound to the battle station to do our part. We are going to get inside, set some bombs and blow it up.”

“
Hopefully, we’re not going to blow up the fortress with all of us still inside it, right?” asked Bob Jones.

“No,” replied Calvin
, laughing good naturedly at the cameraman’s joke, “I intend to have us far away when we detonate the bombs. There are three of them, each of which will explode with the force of 100 megatons, so we
don’t
want to be close to them when they go off.”

“Makes sense to me,” Jones commented. He turned to the person next to Calvin. “And here we have the senior enlisted member of the group, Master Chief Ryan O’Leary. Master Chief, what’s it like to lead
this caliber of men and women into combat?”

“Jones, did I ever give you any indication I wanted to be interviewed?” Master Chief asked.

“Umm, no, but everyone likes to get their face on the news, Master Chief.”

“
You know that it’s hard to walk with a camera shoved up your ass, right?”

“Perhaps I
should interview someone else?” Jones suggested.

“Good idea,” replied Master Chief.

He walked off in search of another interviewee but was interrupted in his quest. “
Two minutes to the LZ,
” Lieutenant ‘Foxy’ Fox, the shuttle’s WSO, commed.  His call let all the troops in the back know they were approaching the landing zone. This was the second time that the shuttle had stopped to drop off personnel; it had also stopped at the back of the asteroid for Night and Staff Sergeant Dantone to get off for five minutes to drop off a package. As Steropes had guessed, the back part of the asteroid was ‘hot;’ something inside it was radioactive as hell, and the radioactive material was being shunted over the side.

“Let’s go,”
Master Gunnery Sergeant Joan Kinkead said, picking up her helmet. “Gear up and then check the soldier next to you.”

“
It looks like they haven’t spotted us yet,
” the shuttle’s pilot, Lieutenant Matthew ‘Exit’ Kamins added. “
Everything is still quiet.
”

“
We’re here,
” said Foxy a couple of minutes later. He seemed to speak softer, as if he were unconsciously trying to keep the Drakuls from hearing him. “
Ramp coming down.
” The boarding ramp started down, and the platoon got a closer look at the surface of the asteroid. Since they didn’t know whether the asteroid would have any mass sensors on its surface, the decision had been made to have the shuttle hover over the surface of the asteroid rather than land on it.

The asteroid’s surface
was a metal plate; it appeared that some sort of molten metal had been poured onto its surface and allowed to cool during the asteroid’s weaponization. The metal covered the surface of the asteroid as far as they could see, providing a protective shell against the weapons of its enemies. The asteroid’s surface was barren, except for the battle station’s laser mounts, and the closed hatches that guarded its missile tubes’ outer doors. The troops could see two different types of lasers. There were a significant number of the enormous five-meter anti-ship lasers and an even bigger number of the smaller counter-missile lasers.

One by one
, the members of the platoon dropped gently onto the surface of the asteroid. The Drakuls had an artificial gravity generator somewhere within the asteroid; the gravity on its surface was about 3/4 Earth-normal. Invisible to all but each other, they followed their internal tracking systems until they came to a hatch, which was different than the ones covering the asteroid’s missile tubes. The platoon took cover in the outcroppings and laser pedestals surrounding the hatch and then signaled their readiness via their suits’ laser datalinks.

Seeing that everyone was ready, Master Chief walked over to the closest of the laser defense arrays. As he
neared the mount, he saw that the intelligence department had been correct. The defensive position was a fixed mount; it did not retract into the surface of the asteroid. With a smile, he cut the power cord that ran from its drive motors into the asteroid.

Lieutenant
Gralup sighed. It was bad enough that he had drawn duty during the feast and now this. “We have another fault on one of the lasers. Mount #241 is indicating that power is out to its drive motors.”

“
Damn it,” Technical Sergeant Rikkub replied. “It probably got hit by a micrometeorite or some other piece of space junk.” He sighed, too. It was a recurring problem with the configuration. “Whose bright idea was it to mount the lasers permanently on the surface of the asteroid, instead of having them on a telescoping platform that could be retracted into it?” he asked. “There’s nothing to protect the mounts or keep them from getting hit by every piece of shit that we fly past. Even if they just put up a small piece of metal in front of the lasers, that would at least shield them from getting hit all the time.”

“Some smart person in the high command
came up with the idea, no doubt,” Lieutenant Gralup said. “They wanted more missile storage. With over 500 laser mounts, keeping them on the surface freed up enough space for another 4,581 ready missiles in our magazines. Or so I’ve been told.”

“I should have been a missile tech,”
grumbled Rikkub as he began putting on his suit. The lieutenant didn’t go up on the surface. The one time the sergeant had suggested it had been...painful, to say the least. Now he just went outside to fix the systems without bitching. Out loud, anyway. “The missile techs’ stuff is inside where it doesn’t break as much and is easier to get to when it does.”

“Cheer up,” said the lieutenant. “Go requisition
a food creature to do the work, and then bring it here on the way back. We’ll have a treat for having to do the extra work.”

The lieutenant will get the treat, the sergeant thought with a
mental sigh. All
he’d
get would be the husk, once the lieutenant had drained the food creature of blood. Still, that was better than nothing. He’d just have to pick a race that had plenty of fat.