Star-Crossed Lovers Ch. 03

"Don't you go crushing that young man's dreams," Maylene huffed.

"I'll leave his dreams alone; it's his throat I'll crush," Eric replied playfully before pulling her close. "My love . . . I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy. You've put up with a lot of shit with me running this Team and you've probably passed up a choice assignment or two for us, so whatever you want is fine with me. I just want you to be happy . . . I want us to be happy."

"Then we'll figure it out when you get back."

*****************

"What the hell happened?" General Kravchenko stared at the screen.

"The Feds shot down two ASVs, sir," the sensor tech replied. "SOLARs on some sort of strike mission."

"Are there any survivors?" Major Nakamura asked.

"Aye, sir," another tech said. She put her hand to her headset. "Say again, Thunderbolt . . . how many casualties?"

The room fell silent for a second, awaiting a response. "Six dead . . . eight injured . . ."

"We've got their location . . . 87 klicks east-northeast of here."

"Do we have any units in the area?" Major Nakamura pulled up the 3-D terrain map.

"No, sir."

"What about the Federation?" General Kravchenko asked.

"Not yet, sir," the tech replied.

"If they think everyone was killed, they might leave the crash site alone." He paused for a second, the wheels in his head turning. "Get the CSAR bird in the air with fighter cover. Bring them in."

"Aye, sir."

Kravchenko continued to stare that the terrain map, hoping that the Federation wasn't sending a team of their own.

*****************

"What the hell happened?" Commander Burke asked, trying desperately to make his voice tempered and even, as if he were in control. Inside though, his stomach was churning.

"Thunderbolt One and Two are both down, sir," the young man at the flight control station said. "They're reporting in now."

"On speaker," Burke said .

". . . SAM came out of nowhere . . . crew dead," the voice over the speaker was interrupted by static. "Lieutenant Maxwell is unconscious . . . Chief Hamilton is dead . . . eight injured . . ."

"Do we have anyone in the area?" Burke recognised the voice as Bunny's.

"There is a Marine base about 90 klicks west-southwest," the flight controller said. "They're launching a CSAR mission right now."

"Where are the Feds?"

"Closing in." There was a grimness in the controller's voice.

"Who's going to get there first?"

"Not us. And even if we do, they've got more fighters in the air. I don't think their ground control knows how close the Feds are, sir."

"Get me the CAG." Burke reached for the handset. The person on the other end picked up. "Thunderbolt One and Two just got shot down."

"I saw," Captain Ariel Spinelli said. She already knew why he was calling. "It's a good thing there aren't any Federation ships in this sector. The ground fighters won't last long against the Feds in the area, though. We're launching a strike squadron to provide air cover. We'll have a rescue bird ready in twenty minutes."

"Thanks, CAG," Burke and hung up. "Who's in command on the ground?"

"It sounds like Easter is running the show, sir."

"Bunny," Commander Burke called over the open microphone.

"Aye, sir!"

"We're coming for you. Can you hold for an hour?"

"Hoo-yah, Commander Burke."

"Keep your heads down and find some cover."

"Roger that, sir."

Burke switched the microphone off. "Wave off the Marine CSAR mission. Have them get their fighters there to provide cover for our guys, but tell them the zone is too hot for a medevac."

"Aye, sir."

"XO!" he called. "Rescue mission leaves in 20 minutes. Every SOLAR who can get suited up by then needs to be on that ship."

"Hoo-yah! You heard the man, you apes! Move!"

*****************

Juggs leaned back against the young Marine's chest. She turned her head and kissed him. He responded by thrusting upwards into her.

His hands reached around and groped her large breasts, pinching the points on the ends. She shuddered with pleasure.

The woman between her legs was doing a hell of a job, too. When her tongue wasn't on Juggs's swollen clit, they licked the man's balls.

"That's it . . . yes!" she moaned. "Right there . . . right fucking . . ."

The pounding on the door broke her out of her bliss.

"Give us a minute, goddamit!"

She was so close, she almost didn't hear the sound of someone keying in the override on the door. Juggs was well one her way to her second orgasm, but the look on her LPO's face shut her down cold. She stopped bucking against the two others. All three waited for him to speak, fear and dread in their eyes.

"Bravo platoon just got shot down on Iridian. The skipper wants everyone ready to go in 16 minutes." Then he turned went looking for the rest of their platoon.

It took a second for the words to sink into Juggs's still-foggy brain, but once she understood them, she shook off the coital cobwebs and reached for her combat gear.

"Sorry, kids. I've got to go," she said to the young couple. They stared at her somewhat bewilderedly. She gave each a friendly kiss. "We'll continue this when I get back."

By the time Juggs got to the launch bay, there were fifteen SOLARs assembled. Only two were completely suited up and they were helping the rest of them get into their power armour.

Commander Burke was assisting another SOLAR with his rocket pack. More SOLARs were coming into the launch bay. It seemed everyone was answering the call.

A pair of Navy transports were powering up, their crews scrambling to get them ready to fly. Two dozen unmanned drones were also being prepped with air-to-ground missiles.

"Listen up!" the XO shouted over the noise of the launch bay. "Bravo platoon got hit in grid 4331. We're uploading maps to your suits now. The Feds have at least three companies in the area. The Stardragons will be flying CAP and the Black Eagles are our air support. It looks like we're going to have to shoot our way in and our way out. . . ."

The briefing continued as more SOLARs got suited up and checked each other's gear and weapons.

Soon, the loadmaster for the first transport gave the ready signal and the first group of SOLARs began boarding. Commander Burke was in this group along with Juggs and a handful of other operators.

He wore a wry smile. He leaned down so only she could hear. "Did we interrupt you?"

"Just breaking in a couple of jarheads, sir," she replied with a smirk.

"This could get real ugly, real fast, Andrea." That caught her off-guard. He only called his SOLARs by their first names when he was dead serious. "Keep your eyes on the newbies, especially Dixon and Winters."

"Hoo-yah, sir."

"Bunny's okay, but we lost Bradford and Lieutenant Maxwell." His eyes darkened. "The rest of the KIAs were from the flight team. Listen . . . if things go bad, we're gonna make a break for the Marine base. They're sending some fighter cover, but we're still going to be outgunned."

What was unusual about this exchange is that the Team CO almost never gave this much detail to a petty officer second class. But with the exception of the Master Chief, Juggs knew Commander Burke better than just about anyone else in the boat and he was letting her know he was entrusting her with a leadership role on this mission. They had trained and operated together for almost two years and she knew what he wanted and how he wanted it done better than some of the officers, chiefs and LPOs on the Team.

She nodded grimly. "Well get 'em, sir."

The look on Burke's face matched hers and he continued on down the line. The aircrew was strapping the SOLARs into their seats. Commander Burke lumbered up and down the aisle, offering words of encouragement to each of his sailors. There were 23 SOLARs in this ship, which could accommodate 50 in a tight squeeze.

When the call came that a platoon had been shot down and needed rescue, everyone who was able scrambled. It's what SOLARs do. No one gets left behind.

Alpha platoon, the Team's command element and a handful of other SOLARs who weren't on leave were in this boat. Delta and Echo platoons were in the other. Two full squadrons were providing escort. They were headed into a hornet's nest and everyone knew it.

"It's a good thing we caught their fleet with their pants down," the pilot told Commander Burke over the intercom. "If they'd been on this side of the planet when we jumped in, we'd be in a world of shit, sir."

"How many fighters do you think they can bring in?"

"That's the trick, sir," the pilot said. The boat shuddered as they hit the atmosphere. "If they have an FTL carrier, they can jump in, drop off four squadrons and then jump out and we're fucked. If not, they have to send them the long way. Four minutes, sir."

"Roger that," Burke said, then switched over to the platoon's channel. "Four minutes!"

Still strapped in, everyone began going over their equipment and sealing their suits. They powered up their beam weapons and checked the feeds on the missile and grenade launchers. At two minutes, they would get into drop formation and at 10 seconds, it would be safeties off.

Commander Burke kept on ear on the flight crew's channel and the other on his Team's. A countdown appeared in one corner of his HUD.

At fifteen seconds, the drop tubes opened and the first SOLARs stepped into them. The dropmaster counted down in everyone's intercoms. When he hit zero, the first group of SOLARs was launched out of the tubes.

In the grand tradition of the airborne, the highest ranking officer went first, followed immediately by the senior NCO. Then it was the rest of the officers before any of the other enlisted sailors.

At thirty thousand feet, Commander Burke fell from the sky, the maneuvering thrusters on his suit guiding him towards the landing zone. Fighters streaked around the sky, some chasing away the Federation air support and others covering the ground forces.

When he was at three thousand feet, his rocket pack fired, slowing his descent. The two ASVs had crashed close together, the survivors circled around, fighting off the incoming troops. Though outnumbered, SOLARs are among the finest and most determined shooters in any armed services, and their equipment more than made up for numerical inferiority with sheer firepower.

Burke and McDaniel touched down at the first crash site. It was organised chaos. The dead and wounded lay under the relative shelter of the downed ASV. Anyone who could shoot was engaging the oncoming Federation tanks and infantry.

"Master Chief, get the wounded and dead ready for transport," Burke said, his voice eerily calm. Rockets and grenades fell around him, but he seemed impervious and unfazed. His calm was infectious and the panic left those around him.

Within a couple of minutes, the SOLAR's heavy guns combined with their close air support had temporarily driven the Federation back. It was a similar story at the other crash site.

"Get that bird in here!" the Master Chief barked.

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the dropship settled on the ground, its fore and aft ramps down. The wounded and dead were loaded first, followed by the crash survivors and finally the rescuers.

Commander Burke surveyed the scene as the last of his Team went up the ramp. Alliance fighters raced around the battlefield, suppressing enemy advances. The dropship's gunpods poured withering fire on anyone who managed to get close. When he was sure everyone was accounted for, Burke stepped on to the boat.

"Let's go," he pounded on the bulkhead and the dropship lifted off, its ramp still closing.

They were at two thousand feet and climbing when the first missile hit. The hull shook and everyone who wasn't strapped in reached for something to hold on to.

The second missile struck and the ship lurched.

A red klaxxon light began to flash. The SOLARs and air crew were all shouting. They were falling from the sky.

When Commander Burke regained consciousness, he was still inside the ship.

The Master Chief was standing over him, slapping at his helmet. His ears rung.

"We've got to go, sir!"

It took a second to clear his mind, but he saw most of his SOLARs were up and moving. There was a large hole in the side of the boat.

"How far—"

"About two klicks to the perimeter, sir," Master Chief pulled him to his feet.

Another SOLAR was lying next to him. Burke reached for her.

"She's gone, sir," the Master Chief said sternly. "We have to go! Now!"

Burke looked down at the woman's still body. Paulina Ramirez. He said a quick prayer for her, and then followed the Master Chief. There were thirty or so SOLARs and Navy sailors forming a defensive perimeter. Most appeared to be in good shape.

"What the fuck happened?" Burke asked the dropship pilot.

"Goddam Feds hit us with a pair of AAMs, sir," he replied. "We're lucky they added the extra armour to these new boats."

"We're lucky we had the best damn dropship pilot in the fleet or we would have been killed in the crash," Burke said. "Or we wouldn't have landed so close to the Marines."

The other man snorted. "The best pilot in the fleet wouldn't have been hit in the first place."

"What about the other boat?"

"They got away, sir," Master Chief McDaniel said. "We're just outside the range of the Marines' AD turrets. We've got to move before they hit us from the air."

"How many?" Burke asked softly.

"Thirty-six of us made it, sir." The Master Chief's face was grim. "We need to go."

"Can we carry them?" Burke nodded in the direction of the crashed ship.

"No way, sir."

"We'll blow the reactor once we're out of range," the pilot said reassuringly. "It's the best burial anyone's gonna get on this rock, sir."

Burke sighed inwardly. SOLARs never left their dead or wounded behind, but he also knew he couldn't risk the lives of his surviving Teammates, either. He nodded.

"Saddle up," the Master Chief shouted over the main channel and then they got moving.

A Marine patrol met them at the perimeter of the base. A mushroom cloud rose over the hills where the retrieval boat had gone down.

Eric dropped his head for a second, hoping that the families of his dead SOLARs would forgive him for not bringing their bodies home. He hoped they would understand his first priority was the living.

*****************

"Eric . . . Eric, can you hear me?" There was a lot of static on the line. Maylene's face was barely visible. The audio was scratchy. The Federation signal techs were doing a fine job of jamming the base's transmissions.

"This channel isn't going to stay open much longer, Maylene," Eric said, hoping he was getting through. "We'll be fine once the First Infantry arrives."

". . . Can't hear . . ."

"I love you, honey," he said and then the line devolved into unintelligible static.

Commander Burke sighed. Since their arrival two days before, half the Marines were now dead, including General Kravchenko. A surprise attack caught them all flat-footed. He was now the highest ranking line officer, and even though he wasn't a Marine, they had quickly looked to him for command.

The campaign for Iridian was slowly going the Alliance's way. Reinforcements arrived, but the Federation made one more push to take control over the main strategic ground points, including the terraforming stations.

After fighting off the initial attack, Burke knew the Feds would be back. They needed some place to dig in and try and hold off on their own. Already undermanned, this station was the most likely target for a large ground assault.

"We've probably only got a couple of hours, sir," Lieutenant O'Connell said. He was now the senior Marine who wasn't dead or wounded. General Kravchenko had been killed in the first volley, and the base commander, Major Nakamura, was severely wounded.

"Pull everyone back," Burke said quietly. At least he had gotten through to Maylene and let her know he was still alive. Even if it was only to tell her good-bye. "Strip all the tanks and vehicles for useable equipment. Seal off the entrances and retreat underground."

"Aye, sir," the lieutenant said. "We can rig the micro reactors in the power armour to blow. That'll be a nice little surprise for those bastards."

"Good thinking, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir." He was a little older than Burke, even though he was a junior Marine officer. He started out as an enlisted Marine, made Gunny and then got a battlefield commission to lieutenant. He was a good Marine, but an inexperienced officer. It was his idea for Burke to take command of the garrison after General Kravchenko and Major Nakamura had been removed from the chain of command.

Burke resisted at first, but quickly realised that the Marines and sailors needed leadership, and he was it. Never one to shirk his duty, Burke quickly took command and the Marines seemed eager to carry out his orders.

"Can we collapse the tunnels on top of us?" Burke asked.

"I think so, sir," O'Connell waved one of his Marines over.

"I don't mind falling back underground and letting the Army engineers dig us out." Burke said.

"Roger that, sir," the Marine agreed. "Hey, Goodall . . . can we drop the ceilings at all the entrances?"

The man who lumbered over was more machine than human. A 7 foot tall full conversion cyborg, Goodall was basically a human brain encased in a giant combat robot. His thick armour was dented and burned, but he was still fully functional. Bristling with weaponry, Goodall was the pinnacle of 24^th Century human fighting capability. And all he had to do was sacrifice his humanity.

"No problem, sir." The cyborg's synthetic voice was surprisingly gentle. "General Kravchenko had us start laying charges about a month ago. We can control all of it from the command center."

"Very good, Staff Sergeant," Burke said. "We'll blockade the tunnel entrances and set up checkpoints. If they break through, we'll fall back to the second level and bring the mountain down on top of us. By the time the Feds can dig us out, the First Infantry will be here."

Lieutenant O'Connell and Staff Sergeant Goodall both nodded in agreement. What neither wanted to consider was whether the Feds had brought in some underground tunneling robots which would make quick work of any obstacles the Marines could put up. They didn't have enough explosives to collapse all of the tunnels.

"Oh, Lieutenant?" the cyborg said, a touch of laughter in his mechanical voice.

"What's up?"

"Seeing as we're about to be overrun," he continued. "As is my right under the Volunteer Bionic Warrior Act of 2318, I'd like to request immediate transfer to my clone body."

Both officers snorted at the cyborg's joke. A century before, many of the early cyborg soldiers had problems adjusting to their new bodies. Not physically, but psychologically. Although still vaguely humanoid, they clearly were no longer human. These soldiers were seven times more likely to have a nervous breakdown or snap under pressure, and since they were often encased in super-powerful robot bodies, they were hard to bring down if they went on a homicidal rampage.

After a couple of studies by the psy-ops people, two changes were made. The first was an artificial head that was a near-identical copy of the soldier's human face. It helped to preserve some of the soldier's perceived human features and when they looked in a mirror, they saw something familiar.

The second measure was a provision that guaranteed any cyborg soldier immediate transfer to a specially-grown clone body that would be stored at the sector's medical facility. This "safety valve" provided a psychological outlet for any soldier who decided he or she no longer wanted to be a walking combat robot. By knowing that they could go back to being a "normal" human at any time, cyborg soldiers were volunteering to be put into bigger and more monstrous bodies that were much more effective in combat than human-sized and human-formed robots.