TBS Side Story, Warriors of the Principality 2, A Tallulah Finnegan story. 15k Novlette with Pictures, Part 2 of 3
Part 1 l Part 3 Pending
“Captain! Sensor shadow is changing.”
Aurelian’s head snapped around to look at the sensor officer. “Changing? How?”
“Appears to be breaking up into two portions. One pulling back, the other plunging on its ventral axis.”
Aurelian and Alaric exchanged glances. Both understood immediately what had happened.
“Dammit,” Aurelian swore loudly. “How did the computer miss that the shadow was two ships!”
Alaric called out: “Sensors, run spectral analysis for the three local corvettes.”
Aurelian followed with the next order. “Bring the weapons online and raise the shields.”
“Intercession and Evanescence confirmed, sirs.”
Fulminating Darkness identifies the Intercession during it's attack run.
“Weapons coming online now.”
“Bogeyman armor active. Shields and will take 2 minutes to come out of stealth mode.”
“Incoming hail.” The comm officer called out when there was an opening in the chaos.
“Ignore it.” Aurelian ordered. “Sensors, go active. Engineering, heat up the thrusters. Prepare to withdraw.”
Before the officers could respond, the first explosions began detonating in the space around Fulminating Darkness, peppering its hull with missile fragments.
Moments prior on the bridge of the Intercession, the comm officer called out: “Evanescence registers anomaly as expected. 315 degrees right, up 20 degrees.”
“Helm, bring the ship about. Position the contact directly between us and the planet. Come to full speed.”
While directly tying into the ships systems, she called out: “Weapons, Sensors, focus on visuals. We may not be able read it with our equipment, but we ought to be able to see its silhouette against the white background of the planet!”
A long moment passed when the weapons officer called out, “Contact! Unknown ship one degree left of current trajectory. Magnifying.”
Intercession spots the Fulminating Darkness by the light of Buth-Chanain-c.
It appeared immediately in Tallulah’s mind while the rest of the bridge saw it appear on the view screen. It matched every, limited, detail she knew of the Duke’s Black Ships.
“We in range for missiles?”
“Not quite ma’am. 45 seconds.”
Opening a broadcast channel with her mind, Tallulah called out. “Unknown vessel. I am Lady Tallulah Finnegan of his Royal Highness' corvette Intercession. You have violated House Finnegan’s sovereign space. Stand too immediately and prepare to be boarded. You have 20 seconds before we designate you a hostile target and open fire.”
As she closed the channel she called out to the weapons officer, “Weapons, manually target the vessel. Three volleys. Aim to hit, but at this distance I assume we will mostly bracket it. Stand ready on the self-destruct triggers and try to detonate them as close to the target as possible.”
Ignoring the weapon’s officers “As you command.” She moved on to the comm officer.
“Comms. Any response?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Weapons. Open fire.”
The first missile hit the Fulminating Darkness right before the shields went up. Alaric summed up the damage: “6 missiles intercepted by the PD turrets, 11 self-destructed missiles, all close enough to do minor damage, 1 direct hit, ventral heat-sinks damaged.”
“I felt it.” Aurelian replied, “This neural interface renders it like I was actually hit.”
“A damaged heat-sink will not stop us. A tech is already on their way to inspect the zone.”
Aurelian nodded his comprehension then ordered: “Weapons, return fire at will. Helm, chart us a course out of here and engage as soon as the engines come online.”
Carefully targeted laser fire from the Fulminating Darkness cut across the void hitting the Intercession, as several more volleys of missiles from the Intercession found their mark with increasing accuracy. The two Seagulls darted around the Fulminating Darkness, slowly picking off its PD turrets. Soon both ships began to show signs of the battle.
Seagulls I-1 and I-2 strafe the Fulminating Darkness while under fire.
“Plasma cannon is in range.” The weapon officer called out.
Tallulah flashed a wicked smile as Galen spoke up: “Our heaviest weapon, and we are not even supposed to have it. Glad I bartered with those Ykanti back on the station now, aren’t you.”
“Shush you.” She ordered. “Weapons, firing solution mandates are waived for this engagement. Fire at will. Engage with the laser cannons as well.”
She watched as a heavy stream of plasma roiled out of the weapon mounted just beneath the bow peak of her ship. She caught her breath as both laser beams hit two/thirds the way down the Black Ship’s hull, followed by the plasma ball. The Black Ships shields flared and failed, and its armor and hull deformed under the hit.
“Helm, continue closing the distance.” she ordered. “Comms, tell the Evanescence to come up on her other side and engage.”
Aurelian bucked in his command chair as his mind processed the feedback of the plasma hit. He disconnected from the interface and wiped the sweat off his brow.
“A fucking plasma cannon?!” He spat. “That can’t be standard on a ship that small.”
Alaric shook his head. “No, my lord, it appears that it is literally welded on to the bow turret. The second ship has one too and is moving to engage.”
“Enough.” Aurelian raised his hand to cut Alaric off. “This is a pointless engagement. Helm, full retreat.”
Aurelian started to reconnect to the interface when a second plasma ball hit the ship, near the bridge. Power surged through the conduits above the bridge and one of them exploded.
Shrapnel rained down on the bridge crew causing Alaric to duck and cover his face. He heard a scream but could not tell who it was.
He stood up and to his horror saw a large piece of jagged sheet metal had pierced right through the captain’s abdomen.
“Aurelian!” he called out. Aurelian weakly looked his way, blood starting to dribble from the edge of his mouth.
Alaric sprinted across the small bridge to him, catching a med kit that one of the auxilia guards tossed him. Dumping the contents on the floor, he found the emergency med-foam. He injected several shots all around the piece of metal even as Aurelian hissed in pain.
As the foam spread and mitigated the bleeding and the pain, Aurelian’s color improved and his eyes cleared slightly.
“Computer, transfer command to Lieutenant Master Alaric Tirom. Authorization code: TGN-1125Δ.”
“Confirmed. Primary command controls transferred to Lieutenant Master Alaric Tirom.” The computer intoned.
Alaric waved the two auxilia over. “Get him down to med-bay.”
The two auxilia carefully lifted Aurelian from the command chair, forming a two-person human crutch between them and made their way to the lift.
Alaric strapped into the command chair as the Fulminating Darkness was hit by another round of plasma cannon fire near the hanger. He tied into the computer. The situation was grim.
“My lady, range is now too close for effective weapons fire. The laser batteries cannot depress far enough to target safely, and we would be inside the missile impact radius.”
“Understood. Continue to rake them with PD turret fire. Focus on their engines.” Tallulah told the weapons officer and then looked at Galen. “Have you found a compatible airlock?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Galen brought it up on the screen. “Principality standard. We can dock directly with the mag clamps and extend a jetway over.
A serious expression crossed her face as Tallulah ordered: “Sensors, retract the sensor rods. Helm, bring us alongside and initiate docking protocols. Captain Sarethi, prepare your troops.”
Galen stood at attention and offered a crisp salute. “I will lead the formation myself and bring honor and glory to House Finnegan and the Prince. We March Without End!” Calling out his family motto with a strike of his right fist against his chest, and he ran for the lift.
As he left the bridge, Tallulah pushed the knot of concern out of her mind, “Comms, order the Evanescence to cease bombardment. They are to come up on the other side and prepare a boarding action of their own. They are to await final confirmation before initiating. Then call the Seagulls back to escort the shuttle.”
As Galen ran to the port airlock his bodyguards, a pair of extremely well trained and equipped auxilia that he had provided favored commoner status to, fell in beside him. He opened a channel to his combat troops.
“All Platoons, boarding action is approved. We will be hard mounted at the port, Airlock 2. Second, Third, get your asses moving. First Platoon, as soon as the Gulls are back to provide escort you are to launch and do a separate boarding action via the Black Ship’s hangar bay. Grand Sergeant Gellert, your team is currently distraction and pressure only, while I lead Second and Third as the main thrust. Evanescence is moving to dock on the other side but will only deploy if we need the support.”
As he heard the acknowledgement of the platoon leaders, he held out his right hand. The auxilia on his right reached over and handed him his SMG that he attached to the small of his back. He held his right hand out again and the auxilia handed him a laser pistol that he attached to his right hip. Sticking out his left hand, the auxilia on that side handed him his helmet, which he carried until he reached the airlock.
Securing his helmet, he pulled the SMG out of its holster and began a weapons check.
“Status!” he barked.
The marine First Sergeant stepped up and saluted. “The other half of the platoon is on its way now sir. Docking will be complete in less than two minutes. The sappers,” he pointed to two auxilia by the door, “will be ready to blow the airlock if the tech” his hand moved over to a marine corporal on the other side of the airlock, “can’t override their security.”
Galen nodded sharply as he holstered the SMG and pulled the laser pistol to begin its weapons check. “Good. Well done everyone. I know for most of you this will be your first time fighting another member of the Principality’s armed services. Shelve that concern in your mind. Here, now, the people on the other side of that door are our enemies. Dispatch them with the same efficiency as you would a smuggler or a pirate. The only difference is that this time we are accepting—and even encouraging—surrenders. Most of these people, especially the commoners, won’t be there by choice. Let’s give them one! Loyalty is its Own Reward!”
The squads shouted the royal motto back of the order as Galen sent Tallulah a brief mental update.
That finished just in time for the hull to resonate with the sound of contact.
Intercession clamps onto the hull of the Fulminating Darkness.
“Contact!” the marine detachment Officer-in-Charge, a ROSF Sergeant named Maxwell Hebel, called out. Alaric was already tied into the system and was watching the event in real time. As soon as he realized that the Intercession meant to board them, he dispatched a counter invasion force to the airlock.
Originally, he had ordered every marine and auxilia at his disposal to the area around the starboard airlock. The ROSF had encouraged him to place some troops in reserve explaining that too many troops in a tight space are as dangerous as too few.
He saw the wisdom in the man’s words and was glad that he had heeded them when the shuttle launched from the Intercession. He dispatched forces to contain that assault team.
As the Evanescence moved alongside his port side, he dispatched his remaining forces to that airlock.
Now there was only one more thing he could do. Opening a ship-wide announcement, “All hands, prepare to repel boarders. These troops might look like our brothers-in-arms, but they are followers of the Pretender-Prince and must be defeated and driven back. Arm yourselves with whatever is available and do not give any ground. The Hammer of Draymor is strong!”
Tallulah noticed the update as the Seagulls returned and escorted the shuttle out of the hangar on its assault vector, but her attention was on the camera overlooking Galen and his initial troop wave.
The technician spliced in and attempted to open the outer air lock. 15 seconds. 30. 45. Finally with a disgusted look on the man’s face, the technician stepped back and put on his helmet. The two Auxilia sappers stepped forward and professionally placed their charges. A bright flash obscured the camera for a moment, and the first door violently blew in.
She switched to a different camera further down the hall and watched as the sappers moved forward and quickly repeated the process on the Black Ship’s inner airlock. A second white flash, and that door blew inward as well.
A storm of bullets and laser flashes erupted from deeper in the Black Ship, turning the corridor into a killing zone. She watched as both sappers were cut down instantly, then her view was obscured as Galen led his Marines down the corridor, moving from bulkhead to bulkhead until they were off camera.
Nothing to do now but wait.
Galen looked down the corridor. There were bulkheads at even intervals. Five bulkheads down was a corridor intersection that the Draymor crew had fortified. He pivoted on his heel quickly and pointed towards a marine master sergeant in heavy battle armor. He punched the bulkhead next to him, pointed down the hall, held up three fingers, and then chopped his hand sharply.
The master sergeant saluted and turned to his fire team, repeating the orders. Two vanguard auxilia charged into the breach. These men will large and strong by commoner standards and had been outfitted with combat shields and shotguns. Blasting their way forward under the suppressive fire of their marine master sergeant with his battle rifle, they quickly cleared the way to the third bulkhead.
Galen and his bodyguards followed them as far as the second bulkhead, joined by a marine team, while additional marine teams took cover at the first bulkhead.
Galen pulled a grenade, an threw it towards the fortification. He watched as several members of the marine team at his bulkhead as well as the vanguard team did the same. Within seconds of each other, seven grenades landed amidst the defenders.
He heard a panicked shout of “Grenades!” above the noise of weapons fire, and then the grenades began detonating.
The vanguard team rushed forward, with Galen and his bodyguards subsequently following. They stormed the fortifications, finding several wounded defenders.
One officer pulled his pistol and Galen shot him instantly.
“Over here, sir!” Galen heard the vanguard master sergeant call out to him.
Turning around, he saw that the marine was holding a wounded senior Engineman at gun point.
A quick glance at the other surrendered survivors told Galen that all the nobles had fallen and this was the highest standing commoner in the group.
“Engineman, I am Marine Captain Galen Sarethi. Your ship is engaged in treasonous activities, that one way or the other, end today. You have a choice. As a commoner, you are not to be held liable for the actions of your officers, but only if you comply with my orders. Am I clear?” Galen concluded while slowly pointing his SMG at the non-com.
The man’s eyes flicked from Galen’s helmet down the weapon’s barrel and back up. “Yes, my lord, but I am just a maintenance team leader, I don’t really have anything to offer you.”
Galen thought for a moment, then asked “Where is the closest point where we can gain full computer access?”
The man’s eyes dropped in shame, “Up the corridor behind me, 3 doors down on the left is a conference room with a terminal.”
Dismissing the man without a second thought Galen stood back up and checked his men. Out of the twenty-seven that boarded, he had lost eight. Seven auxilia killed and one marine severely injured. He pointed to one of the triad leaders. “Master Sergeant Simmons, your team is to remain here. Protect the corpsman. Hold this point. Guard these prisoners. In that order. Third Platoon should be on station soon. Direct them to follow my insertion squads.”
“Aroo, sir!”
Galen smiled behind his helmet at the casual confirmation. Some marines are all uniform and pomp, and some marines are all sweat and dirt, and you could usually tell instantly with whom you were dealing.
“Everyone else. Let’s go!” He ordered, taking off down the corridor with his bodyguards.
He made it to the conference room without incident. He and his bodyguards took one side of the door, while the vanguard team took the other.
Triggering the controls, the vanguard team rushed in, followed by Galen and his team. It was a large briefing hall, and at the far end were a panicked group of commoner naval crew. Some held shotguns and axes, but others were armed with only kitchen knives, and one guy with wide eyes was just threatening to throw a coffee up.
Galen stepped forward to order them to surrender, but just as he started to speak, Wide Eyes somehow made his eyes go wilder and he threw his coffee cup at Galen. Galen knocked it out of the air effortlessly, but the motion loosened trigger fingers on both sides of the room and within seconds it was over.
Galen sighed at the waste then checked the terminal. “Get the techs in here. Terminal is undamaged.”
Within just a moment the marine corporal who attempted to breach the door and another tech were at the terminal.
“Accessing. Significant VI resistance.”
“Deploying counter VIs.”
“First firewall breached.”
“System architecture is weird.”
“Agreed. Principality GUI, but there is something foreign underneath.”
Galen turned at that. “Foreign? Explain.”
“Yes sir, I could not begin to tell you who made this ship sir, but it’s definitely not one of ours. Most of the computer systems are Principality standard, but there is some middleware that my VIs can’t even touch.”
Galen nodded at that. Initial intelligence on the Black Ships determined that they must be foreign, and his first impressions after boarding this one confirmed that it was a foreign, though still human, design. The system information just backed that up further.
“Have the ship’s name. Fulminating Darkness.”
Fitting, Galen thought. It was a good piece of information from a strategic sense, though it did not help him tactically. He started to say that when the other tech called out.
“Have a map. Transmitting now!” Galen smiled tightly as he looked at the map. This he could use.
He pointed to one of the auxilia, “You stay and guard these two. If you come under fire, fall back to Simmon’s location.”
“I obey, Captain!”
He transmitted the map to his team leaders. “Everyone else, we have a path to the bridge. Let’s move!”
“Ma’am, the shuttle is lining up for final approach. The pilot requests permission to engage.”
Tallulah hummed in her chest. “Order her to stand by.”
She directly reached out to her Seagull pilots in her mind. “Phipson, McBride, the shuttle is going into a kill zone. I have an idea. Which one of you has more coil gun rounds left?”
“I do, my lady.” McBride responded, the pilot of the wingman-aircraft.
“McBride, stay on the shuttle and keep it safe. Phipson, take your Seagull along the hangar and report back what you can see. If it is within margin, we can send the shuttle in.
She could hear the enthusiasm in Phipson’s voice—and the disappointment in McBride’s—as they both acknowledged her order.
Disconnecting from the pilots she then ordered: “Comm’s tell the shuttle pilot to await an entry order from Seagull I-1. Seagull I-2 will provide cover. Remind her to land the shuttle far enough to one side of the bay so that Evanescence’s shuttle will have room as well.”
“Yes, ma’am. Incoming transmission from Navy Pilot Phipson.”
“Put him through.”
A few seconds later a voice came over the speakers. ‘My lady, they either have a Kerr effect scrambler or a malfunction. I cannot see through this barrier at all. Request permission to enter the hangar bay.
“That is extraordinarily risky, Pilot.” Tallulah responded instantly.
“I recognize that Captain, I’m volunteering to place myself in such jeopardy.” He responded formally.
Tallulah shook her head at the pilot’s audacity, then sighed. “Authorization granted. You have permission to do as much damage as you deem necessary to clear the field. Transmit your recorder live. When you are done close that transmission down and order the shuttle pilot in.”
As he acknowledged and closed the link, Tallulah turned to the Sensor officer, ordering, “Bring up the flight transmission from I-1’s fighter.”
Navy Pilot Phipson pushed his craft through the energy field protecting the enemy ship’s hangar bay. He smirked at the expressions of surprise and shock he saw on the enemy’s faces.
Almost immediately he heard the sound of small weapons fire fizzling against his shield, making him laugh aloud in disbelief. “Fools.”
The craft then was rocked when a grenade exploded against it. Checking his shields he saw that the grenade took off half a percent, and his shields were already recharging.
He rolled his eyes and began raking the room with coil gun fire. A few more grenades found their mark, but he just shrugged them off. His thrusters puffed lightly pivoting the ship right and left and his rounds punched through the enemy’s makeshift cover like it was tissue paper.
After a few moments of not seeing any new movement, he released the trigger and began moving to fighter to the right to give the shuttle space.
Before he could hail the shuttle, a large door of the right side of the room opened and revealed a small assault tank. It immediately opened fire, pummeling his Seagull. Expression serious, he spun the craft on its axis and bracketed the small tank.
I-1 destroys a tank while covering the landing shuttle's approach to the bay.
Seeing it had its shield up; he toggled his first missile and manually aimed. He debated in his mind on the blast radius and decided to go for it. He hit the trigger.
The missile crossed the room in an instant, penetrated the tank’s shields and armor, and detonated. After his eyes recovered from the blinding flash, Phipson saw that the tank—and the surrounding hangar space—were absolutely ruined.
Several grenades struck his ship again. While he was distracted with tank, several dozen auxilia and positioned themselves behind his fighter. He noticed with annoyance that the tank had done enough damage that the grenades were starting to actually have an effect. He pivoted in place again, raking this group as well.
Within a minute it was over.
With the right side of the room severely damaged, he shifted his fighter across the bay so that it levitated over the buckled decking.
Not seeing anyone new rushing into the room to die, he reluctantly cleared the shuttle to land.
He watched as the shuttle nosed though the energy shield and into the carnage. It set down near the middle of the bay.
As soon as the first marines disembarked, a large door on the left side of the bay opened up revealing improvised fortifications stood up around a heavy anti-personal chain gun. The fortification was maned by at least twenty men.
Phipson watched as the marines dived for what limited cover there was. He pulsed the thrusters so that this fighter moved out from behind the shuttle.
He chuckled again at the two-dimensional thinking of the defenders.
A tank would not have been able to fit between the shuttle and the energy shield. He did not have that problem. With the aft of his Seagull hanging in the void, he lined up his second missile at the chain gun and fired.
The hangar was filled with a deafening roar and a blinding flash as the missile detonated in the improvised fortifications, vaporizing the chain gun and most of the men near it.
The shockwave rocked the shuttle over nearly a meter and knocked every member of the boarding party off their feet. One member of the auxilia was caught in the blast and dismembered.
Phipson was not happy about the friendly casualty, but dismissed it, knowing that it was better than the alternative had he not acted.
One of the forward doors in the hangar opened again. Several additional defenders rushed out over the remains of their colleagues, pausing momentarily in shock at the devastation that Phipson had caused in the hangar bay.
Regaining the initiative, they hoisted anti-air missile launchers and launched several at the fighter. They all struck true, depleting the Seagull’s shields and irreparably damaging its hull.
Phipson guided the crippled fighter back into the bay, managing to swing the nose around towards the group just before the fighter landed on the damaged floor with a blood curdling screech of metal. He pressed the trigger one last time, emptying his fighter’s coil guns into the group and down the corridor.
By the time he was done the rest of the boarding party was in position, and they swarmed the remaining defenders.
He opened the comm channel, obviously pleased with himself, “My lady, Seagull I-1 disabled. Heavy casualties were inflicted. Hangar bay can accommodate the shuttle from Evanescence. I am going to join the boarding party in securing the hangar deck. I’m quite certain I observed voidcraft in the adjacent rooms.”
One the bridge of the Intercession, Tallulah disconnected the fighter camera feeds as the comm message from the pilot came in.
“Permission granted. Be careful.
She checked the status of the air lock boarding action and saw that the techs were actively uploading information as they found it. Much of it had not been decrypted yet, but she took note of the name, Fulminating Darkness, and then moved on to studying the map.
She noticed that Galen was nearing a data center. She sent him a ping, marking it on his map as a possible objective.
She checked the status of Third Platoon and saw that they had nearly caught up to him. The remainder of Second Platoon and taken over guarding the airlock and holding key intersections along Galen’s way should he need to withdraw quickly.
Tallulah debated with herself. If the Intercession claimed the prize by itself the bounty on such a vessel would be magnificent. If. After several moments of wrestling with it, she decided that the risk to her crew was higher than the reward.
“Comms, order the Evanescence to dock, counter our position. They are to send a platoon in their shuttle to support our hangar raid. Their other two platoons are to push towards Engineering.”
Alaric watched as the second boarding party landed in the hangar bay. He exchanged glances with the ROSF sergeant to his left. “I cannot believe the boldness of that Seagull pilot. He is either fearless or stupid.”
Sergeant Hebel glanced at the casualty count that had just been submitted by surviving Marine leader defending the hangar bay. “It could be both.” He acknowledged with a dry sarcasm, then moved on, “As you saw, the initial wave of defenders have failed. Marine teams in the area are regrouping.”
The sensor operator cut in, “Sir, the second corvette is also maneuvering to come along side.”
“Too damn many. We should have withdrawn sooner.” Alaric muttered under his breath. Then he fully turned to the Hebel. “Sergeant Hebel, I know this was a temporary posting for you, but I am glad you are here. I am hereby turning all non-essential sailors over to your command. I’ve already transmitted orders that everyone who has not already done so, needs to arm themselves with a pistol or a boarding axe.”
Hebel tilted his head in acknowledgment, “Thank you my lord, though to be fair, they won’t do much against the boarding party’s armed marines.”
Alaric exhaled contemplatively, “They will be number buffers if nothing else.”
Hebel brought up an image of the hangar on the viewscreen. “That team is a distraction. I am going to deploy just enough people to slow them down. I will send my reserve marines to the second airlock to contain the new threat. As for my primary marine teams, Auxilia, and as many sailors as you can get me, I will move them to a series of chokepoints between the main boarding party and the bridge.”
Alaric gently waved his arm around the bridge. “I begin preparations here, just in case.”
“Understood. Though they will not make it here if I am still on my feet.”
Alaric was surprised. “You are joining the line directly?”
Hebel nodded. “I will take the first chokepoint. I still have my flamethrower in the armory.” He grinned a sinister smile, “time to add a little terror to the fight.”
Galen’s squads had been making excellent time towards the bridge. It was actually starting to concern him. He bit himself on the cheek to interrupt that thought. No need to invite bad luck.
Too late.
The vanguard team and a couple of standard Auxilia rounded a corridor and suddenly vanished in a gout of flame. He heard the sizzling of the shields and faint popping sound they made as the failed, right before screaming and the smell of burnt meat filled the air.
One of the vanguard auxilia appeared out of the flames, dragging his marine master sergeant’s unconscious form. Dropping the man in exhaustion he fell on the deck next to him as the marine team behind Galen rushed forward to extinguish their lingering flames.
He looked up to Galen, “Sorry my lord. I only had a second before the flames, but it looked like a ROSF with a flame thrower and a few marines for support.”
Galen hummed with satisfaction at the commoner. “Well done. When you get your feet, stay with him,” Galen pointed at the master sergeant. “and guard him until the corpsman arrives. You may use his weapon on my express authority.”
The auxilia saluted from his seated position, as he reached for the master sergeant’s marine grade battle rifle. “I obey!”
Galen was the only Tier 3 Weavethew augment present and he knew that if the flametrooper really was a ROSF, that he would be the only person who could take him.
He pressed up against the wall near the corner and pulled a grenade from his belt. His bodyguards each armed a grenade as well. He tapped a second grenade on his belt to get their attention then held out two of his fingers. They both bobbed their heads in understanding, then he raised his free hand, holding up three fingers. They closed, one second a finger, and at zero he threw the grenade around the corridor. The bodyguards did the same, then all three men immediately took a second grenade and threw it down the corridor as well.
A blast of flame engulfed the space between Galen and the ROSF. Four of the grenades detonated prematurely in the heat, but the other two made it through exploding in the support personnel behind the ROSF. The ROSF was knocked forward off his feet.
At the sound of the explosions, Galen sprinted around the corner, SMG firing. He saw the ROSF rising off the ground and immediately put several rounds into the flame thrower itself. With the weapon disabled, he tilted the weapon towards the ROSF himself, but the ROSF was already on the move.
Galen’s bodyguards began firing at the support personnel, as the ROSF himself charged Galen. Galen fired several shots into the ROSF, depleting his shields, but not stopping him before he closed into melee range.
CPT. Sarethi and SGT. Hebel fight in the corridor during the boarding action.
Pulling a combat knife, he tackled Galen. His momentum was enough to knock Galen off his feet. As he fell Galen reached up and caught the ROSF’s armor, pulling the bulkier man towards him. Galen attempted to throw the ROSF, but the ROSF reacted instantly, hooking his left leg around Galen’s and interrupting the throw. Both men fell to the floor where it turned into a wrestling match.
Galen’s bodyguards attempted to assist as the rest of the boarding team rounded the corner and began pushing the defenders back, but Galen and the ROSF were both moving too quickly for the auxilia to do much.
Galen jabbed a nerve causing the ROSF to drop his knife. The ROSF elbowed Galen in the chin, snapping his head back and stunning him through the armor. Galen rolled on top and kneed the ROSF in the groin and stomach several times.
The ROSF managed a strong left hook that rocked Galen back. Galen reared back, gaining momentum from the punch and snapped his body forward slamming both of his palms in the ROSF’s shoulders pushing him hard into the floor.
The flamethrower’s fuel canister collapsed under the weight of the two men, covering the ROSF’s back in a sticky gel. He tried to roll again, but the gel slowed him down and he was not able to get any momentum.
Realizing his advantage, Galen pressed his arm flat against the man’s throat constricting his airway. The ROSF attempted to push him away, but the pushes quickly became frantic as the ROSF started to suffocate.
“Yield!” Galen shouted at the man, who just glared back in silence.
Shaking his head frustration while simultaneously snorting in approval, Galen leaned in hard, choking the man’s airway completely.
Within seconds, the ROSF passed out. Galen held the position for another 5 seconds then lifted up.
“My lord?” One of the bodyguards questioned.
“ROSF’s are too valuable to the Principality to just kill one casually. He will not be unconscious long. Tell a couple of the auxilia to find some heavy restraints somewhere and get this man secured.”
“Of course, my lord, but I wasn’t questioning your decision, I was inquiring into your well-being.”
“Oh,” Galen waved his hand, “I’m fine.”
As his bodyguards left to carry out his orders, he picked up his SMG and slid it back into his holster. He then grabbed a couple of grenades off one of his fallen auxilia to replenish his stock. As he turned towards the direction his marines had gone, he heard a clatter at his boot.
Looking down, he saw the knife that the ROSF had wielded at the start of their fight. He picked it up and looked at it. It was a beautifully crafted Damascus seax with an exotic black ivory handle. “A worthy trophy.” He said quietly to himself, and he slid the knife into a long thin pocket on side of his SMG holster.
He heard the sound of his bodyguards returning. As soon as they rounded the corner, with a pair of third platoon auxilia in tow, Galen took off after the rest of the boarding party.
Continues in Part 3. I will post it in about 12 hours.
