One Good Soldier

July 1, 2394 AD

Ross 128, Arcadia Orbital QMT Facility

Friday, 3:13 PM, Earth Eastern Standard Time

"Goddamned déjà vu all over again, hey, Tommy?" Corporal Danny Bates told the gunnery sergeant. Tommy didn't think it was ha-ha funny. He thought it was funny in that "Oh shit" kind of way. They had yet to meet any human forces the entire time they had been on the surface. On the other hand, the resistance from the autosnipers and AA cannons had been a real pain in the ass.

"Yeah, Danny, if you consider there ain't nobody here, anywhere. At least last time Top and the colonel got to let go some rounds," Tommy told his longtime friend. The fact that they had met no resistance at the hangar entrance, or the corridor leading inward to the inner rings of the facility, or finally to the elevator leading up into the QMT control room, or anywhere, was just goddamned eerie. It was too goddamned eerie, and it gave Tommy the skin-crawls.

"LT? We got nothing up here. We found what should be the control room, but there is nothing here at all." Suez checked his suit's sensors again, and the only movement they could detect was each other and the occasional automated janitor bots.

"Gunny, just hold tight. The Madira is dropping in some engineers. Place a beacon on the ground and back off," Second Lieutenant Nelms ordered him. "I'll be up in a few minutes, when Willingham and I finish sweeping the lower decks. Top and the colonel are on their way up now."

"Roger that, sir." Tommy motioned to PFC Howser. "Drop a QMT locator, Howser."

"Roger that, Gunny." She pulled a QMT beacon out of a compartment on the side of her e-suit, popped the safety, and dropped it on the floor. The beacon flashed a red light on and off once about every two seconds. They all backed away and stood at ready.

The blinking red light flashed to green, and then a bright flash of light filled the room briefly. There was a sound of crackling and sizzling like that of bacon frying in a skillet. The next thing the marines knew, there were three Navy chief warrant officers standing in front of them.

"Gunny," the lead warrant officer, a CWO-4, nodded to Suez and then turned to his men and started jabbering about finding the membrane ripple controller and the wavefunction transfer initiator. The three men scanned every inch of the control room and then began pulling panels off of circuit boxes and searching through drawers and cabinets.

"Chief, if you need any extra muscle, just ask. Otherwise, we'll be over here standing guard," Tommy offered the technical specialists.

"Thanks, Gunny. I was hoping we'd have better luck, but this control room looks like it hasn't been used in months. You should see the one back at the Oort." The chief turned back to one of the men that had plugged a hardwire universal data port cable into one of the panel computer's readouts. The other end of the wire was in a box on his shoulder. "Anything?"

"You're right. This control room hasn't been used in months," the tech expert replied. "This room was locked out. Hell, as far as I can tell the entire facility has been locked out. It's being controlled from somewhere else."

"Somewhere else?" the CWO-4 asked.

"Looks like there is a QM wireless between the initiators and the planet below."

"Any idea where?"

"Yep. Got it."

"All right, pack it up then," the chief ordered the other two. They both unplugged themselves from various panels and stowed their gear in packs. "Madira, away party ready to return. Snap-back beacon is on."

"Good day, Gunny." The CWO-4 smiled and vanished in a flash of light.

"What the fuck was that all about?" Bates asked.

"Damned if I know," Suez replied. "You'd think they'd at least have waited for the colonel to get here."

"So what now, Gunny?" PFC Howser asked him.

"We wait for the colonel and see what our orders are. I'd say for now, pop your lids and relax." Tommy twisted his helmet off and tethered it over his shoulder.

"CO! CDC!"

"Go CDC!"

"Sir, we've got a massive buildup across the EM bands. There's a QMT coming in."

"Roger that, CDC. Stay on top of it," Rear Admiral Jefferson said over the intercom to the Combat Direction Center commander. "XO?"

"Should be the Lincoln, the Roosevelt, and the Jefferson. It's time for them, sir," BG Chekov answered the admiral.

"STO, is it them?"

"Can't tell yet, Admiral. Hold on, sir." The STO tapped at his console and listened to his AIC briefly and then replied. "Aye, sir. I'm getting their squawk, sir."

"Good. The party was getting a little lonely." RADM Jefferson shifted the view of the main screen to the port side where the QMT throw forward had exited. In the middle of the viewscreen were three U.S. supercarriers. Wallace sent them all a greeting via DTM.

"CO, I've got the report back from the tech team that teleported down to the facility control room," the STO said without looking up from his station.

"Let me hear it, STO."

"Aye, sir. The facility is completely automated from somewhere on the planet's surface. There appears to be no possible method for overriding the lock-out codes. However, the location of the planetside control room was determined as the coordinates I'm sending you now, sir, along with the rest of their report." The STO paused for a breath.

"So we don't have to read a goddamned report, Monte, why don't you tell us where it is?" the XO snapped.

"Uh, yes, XO. I overlaid the coordinates on a topographical map of the planet. It is in the governor's mansion, sir," Captain Monte Freeman answered.

"Well then." The XO grinned. "Looks like we need to send some folks to visit the capital of this fine colony, Admiral."

"I couldn't agree with you more, XO. Get everybody off that rock, and let's get us a battleplan figured out five minutes ago. I want to hit that region in fifteen minutes." The admiral thought about his next move. They had to have control of the facility in order to get home. Their orders were to stop the secession by taking the government of the planet anyway. This way they got to kill two birds with one stone. "Start QMTing the personnel up and get the Starhawks out there bringing in the tanks. Let's just leave the fighter squadrons out. They can cover our approach in to the planet. Luckily for us, we only have to go straight down."

"Roger that, Admiral." The XO nodded in agreement. "Ground Boss, you heard the admiral. Get our tanks in here A-S-fucking-A-P."

"Yes, sir."

"Admiral, I've got an idea, sir," the STO said. "Why bring the ground mecha squadrons in and then drop them out again?"

"You have a better idea how to get those heavy beasties off the asteroid and down to the planet, Monte?" the XO interjected.

"Uh, yes, sir. We QMT the things one at a time from the asteroid, to the ship, to the surface in one QMT control algorithm. The QMT pad in the AEM hangar is big enough to handle one tank and a few troops at a time. With the help of the Roosevelt, Lincoln, and Tyler,it should go pretty fast." The STO pulled up a graphic displaying the speed they could do it and DTMed it to the bridge crew.

"Hmmm." The CO rubbed at his chin. "Might work."

"The only problem, sir, is we need to know where to send them."

"Larry! Get me a battlescape five seconds ago!" the admiral said to the XO.

"Aye, sir."

"CO! CDC!" The Combat Direction Center hailed the bridge.

"Go, CDC." RADM Jefferson adjusted his posture in his chair.

"We've got an incoming QMT, sir! EM bands through the roof!"

"Where, CDC!"

"Just inside the orbit of the second moon, about two hundred thousand kilometers off our port bow, sir!"

"Commo!" the admiral shouted.

"Sir?" The communications officer snapped her head up from her console and turned toward the CO.

"Get a command channel open between me and all the fleet ships!"

"Aye, sir." The comm officer turned back to her panel and then shouted back over her shoulder. "Channel open, CO."

"CO Madira to fleet! We've got incoming. Pull into a tight cover formation on the Madira and start teleporting my tank mecha from the QMT facility to the coordinates on the planet my XO is sending you now. My STO is sending the algorithm to automate the QMT process." Jefferson hit the mute button on his chair arm and turned to the XO and STO. "Get this done now, guys."

"Aye, sir!"

"Assume this is an all-out offensive folks, and we're likely to be outnumbered," he continued over the open channel. "Get your fighters out now! Good luck and Godspeed."

Wallace looked outside the ship in his DTM view and zoomed out to the QMT disturbance of the incoming. The light ball was just vanishing, and then eleven red blips appeared on his mindview battlescape. He zoomed in farther and could tell that there were four ships like the one he had seen earlier that might as well be called supercarriers, five of what looked like Seppy battle cruisers, and two old Seppy rustbucket haulers.

Shit, we are so outnumbered, he thought.

Maybe we should jaunt away and come up with a better plan, sir, Uncle Timmy replied.

Negative, Tim. When under attack and outnumbered, the best strategy is always to strike first. But we have got to get our guys off that damned rock, fast.

Aye, sir. Then might I suggest we try to break them up as best we can and create two fronts for them to fight on?

I agree with that. Synchronize our blue-red force trackers with the fleet now.

Done, sir.

"Fleet, CO Madira! Focus all directed energy weapons on bogy two. Looks like a supercarrier, so treat as one. And assume they have personnel QMT, so keep your SIFs rotating or you risk being boarded."

The fleet vehicles had pulled into position over the QMT facility and had started teleporting the tankheads to the surface one tank—and as many AEMs or AAIs as they could pile on it—at a time. The tankheads, the AEMs, and the AAIs would have to fend for themselves for a while without air support. They should be able to hold their own against the Armored National Guard of the Arcadian Colony, providing the Arcadians didn't get help from the Separatist ships above them.

The fleet supercarriers began pouring directed energy beams onto the targeted Seppy supercarrier. The green DEG beams from the four fleet supercarriers washed the enemy ship from bow to stern. They kept pouring the energy at the vehicle continuously until the SIFs of the ship failed and hull plating began boiling off into space and secondary explosions burst out all across the vessel. The enemy ship listed to port into one of the Seppy haulers, and the rustbucket crumpled as the supercarrier tore into the side. Both ships listed together with explosion after explosion bursting from their seams.

"Those two ships are gonna need a shitload of duct tape," the COB remarked.

"Gunnery officer, keep pouring on the DEGs until we absolutely have to switch targets," the admiral ordered.

"Aye, sir!"

Then the rest of the Seppy vehicles spread out and began returning fire.

"All right, let's start the evasive maneuvers and keep the QMT algorithm going." Jefferson braced himself, expecting impacts from Seppy missiles and guns as soon as they were in range. They were already in DEG range. The speed-of-light limit, though, would make targeting tough at that distance. They had been lucky in that the Seppy ships were stationary. Hitting a maneuvering target at that range was difficult since there was a significant fraction of a second that ticked by between when the ships were targeted in the optical sensor and when the DEG beam actually reached the target.

"How do you want the Air Wing separated, Admiral?" the air boss shouted.

"I want them all to take it to the first Seppy supercarrier that gets in flight range! Navy and Marines both hit that ship as soon as we get in range. No fighters to the planet yet."

"Aye, sir!"

Two of the enemy supercarriers went into hyperspace and jaunted the gap in less than a second. They popped out of the hyperspace conduit at thirty thousand kilometers altitude orbit just beneath them and the QMT facility. They were right on top of them.

"All right, those are bogies one and seven. All mecha to one, all fleet vessels focus on seven! Roosevelt, hold back and cover our ass from those targets above."

"Roger that CO Madira. Roosevelt taking up the rear!" the CO of the Roosevelt replied.

"CO! CDC!"

"Go, CDC!"

"We've got incoming missiles and cannon fire, sir!"

"Roger that, CDC!" Wallace gripped his chair. "Brace for impact!" Timmy, sound the warning.

Aye, sir.

"All hands, all hands! Brace for impact! Emergency crews stand by! Multiple threats detected. Repeat, brace for impact and prepare for incoming fire." Uncle Timmy's voice boomed over the 1-MC intercom, shipwide.

"XO!"

"Aye, Skipper?" the XO replied.

"Larry, we need to report back to Washington. Get the first courier loaded with as much info as we can and snap him back to the Oort Cloud base." The admiral uploaded some thoughts very quickly to Uncle Timmy.

Timmy, get as much data as possible summarized for President Moore and get it on the courier.

Aye, sir.

He needs to know about DeathRay and about the size and strength of this new Seppy fleet.

Aye, sir.

"Quartermaster of the Watch!" the XO shouted. "You heard the admiral! Let's get courier one ready to snap-back in less than ninety seconds."

"Yes, sir!"

"Sir, another one of the Seppy supercarriers just went into hyperspace!" the STO announced. "I've got a conduit opening up behind us, sir. They'll be right on top of the Roosevelt!"

"Thanks, STO." RADM Jefferson adjusted his mindview to see the battlescape around the Roosevelt. If they played it right, they could get into a game of cat and mouse using the QMT asteroid as cover. "CO Madira to CO Roosevelt!"

"Go, Madira!"

"Jaunt behind the asteroid. I want to see if this Seppy bastard will pursue. If he doesn't, then jaunt back and press the attack! We'll focus on a crossfire gambit." The admiral knew that pulling the Roosevelt off their rear flank would leave the backdoor open and put them in a bad crossfire situation. But he needed to know if that was the Seppy battle plan or not.

Just how clever is their fleet captain, or are they fighting as individuals?

I see, Admiral. This will tell us how orchestrated their attack is.

Yes.

"Roger that, Madira."

"Sir, the Roosevelt just jaunted out of the battle to a cover position behind the asteroid," the STO said.

"Doesn't look like he's going after the Roosevelt, sir." The XO added, "We're gonna be in a serious crossfire any second now."

"Good."

"CO Madira to Fleet! Tyler and Lincoln, take up point on the two lower bogies and give the Roosevelt and the Madira cover to take on the one that just jaunted to our backdoor."

"Sir! The Roosevelt is waiting for your order to jaunt back into play!"

"Tell them to bring it!" Wallace ordered.