Alpha lead frantically dropped to the prone position, rifle pointed forward in one hand and the transmitter button in his left, wide-eyed at the gathering ahead, "Magellan, this is Alpha lead. In position. Over." He whispered into his microphone. "Eyes on. .five. About a hundred meters to our left. All armed." He gestured for the rest of the commandos to stay low and fan out to form a perimeter. They were quick and precise in responding, staying attentive of the gathering.
"Can you tell who-is-who?" Admiral Jensen asked directly, cautiously. Anxious, Aaen nearly bit his knuckles jointing his fingers to his hands, eyeing the Admiral and Captain Williams. The Orions were known to be clever . . . even treacherous—more than certain other alien races The Union has encountered and had . . . dealings with. The question was, to what extent? . . . Maybe the real question is 'to what extreme?'. . . In this case—
The video feed was less more distorted now, probably because of all the dense rock surrounding the gathering, Aaen reasoned, squinting at the main viewscreen. Who is-that? He asked silently, focusing on the background. The infrared laser on the Charlie commando's rifle was aimed high at one of the closer targets to him. The fog over the ground below was still dense and blinding. This isn't good, Aaen reasoned. Something's not right. . .
Admiral Jensen walked fast to the bottom level of the bridge, "Lieutenant Mars, what do you have?" she said just quietly enough to keep the question from reaching the commandos.
"All identities are in the Intelligence database. The intruder's identity is confirmed—" she continued speaking—
"You have what we asked for?" a male voice asked darkly, the question was relayed through the comm-line.
I know that voice! Aaen looked wide-eyed at the main viewscreen. He quickly relaxed his face, but there was no visually concealing his look of concern. Then it all made sense!
"You have what you promised me?"
"—It's close-by,"
"Bring it to me. I want it, now,"
"First-things-first. You know how this works,"
They wouldn't leave him alone! "Admiral! Get them outta there! Fast!"
"What are you so worried about, Commander?"
Aaen stood up and leaned on his computers and at the main viewscreen. "That's MADDOG! The pirates won't leave him in a place like that unguarded! Not even so far into their own space! We need to get our people back here, now!"
"Calm down, Commander," Captain Williams said.
"You don't understand—"
The taller of the larger grouping pulled a device out of his pocket.
"Admiral! Halleybird, Knightsword, Lightshield, and Maelstrom have arrived! They're approaching hard astern," the announcement was welcomed with a wave of careful cheers. Captain Williams was quick to wave acknowledgment while getting everyone back to work, like someone giving a speech acknowledging and waving to an audience so they could start talking. Admiral Jensen looked at the readings on the Lieutenant Hammond's screen, nodded, then quickly went back to her chair and rubbed her forehead again.
"Open a channel to all four ships. I want to talk to all of them at the same time. Put it through the handset,"
"Got it," Ensign Henderson acknowledged. Moments later, he handed Admiral Jensen the handset. A conversation started, including Ensign Larsen pointing something out on her computer screen. Admiral Jensen acknowledged what was on the screen with a nod, then focused on Ensign Henderson's computer screen. Aaen focused his attention on the main viewscreen.
"How do you know I wasn't followed? They consider this data to be of high-importance. . . You can bet they aren't going to give it up easily."
"You know it was your job to make sure you weren't fol—"
"Did you hear that?"
The shorter of the group snapped, "What?"
"I heard something up there!"
"Are our people in position?"
"Who's that?"
"General Maddog! We've got company out here!"
A bright, booming light scored the video feed; it quickly blurred. The commando's barrel rapidly flashed thrice.
"Admiral, we're taking fire!"
"Get our people back! HURRY!—Transporters!"
"All units taking heavy fire! We need evac! NOW! Three!—Urgh!—Drag the wounded over here! All units take cover and return fire! Fire at will!"
"I'm trying to get a lock!" He turned his head, "I need more power to transporters!"
Lieutenant Malcolm snapped, "I'm on it!"
Several more booming flashes, "Over there! The intruder's still got the package!"
"I've got no shot! No-shot! Target's too far away. Too many rocks!"
"Leave it!" Admiral Jensen commanded.
"Copy that!" the video feed blurred with frantic weapons fire.
"Get them outta there!" Captain Williams ordered.
"Dang it! Transporters aren't locking on! I can't beam them out!"
"Okay! Alpha, get your people outta there! Get back to the Rundown's and return to the Station as fast as you can!"
"Copy that! They're all over the place, Admiral! ALL UNITS, GET THE WOUNDED AND GET BACK TO THE RUNDOWNS! URGH—"
Another loud boom rolled through the bridge. The main viewscreen filled with silent static.
"—We lost the feed!" Lieutenant Harrison declared.
Aaen quickly combed his fingers through his hair. His face said the bridge was getting warmer, his arms and palms felt cool.
"Commandos are en-route to Rundowns. . .Urgh!. . .Just another twenty meters or so. . . They're right behind us!"
A reverberating hum filled the bridge. . . Sounded like a scanning beam, Aaen reasoned. Uh-oh.
"Admiral! Sensors are clearing for some reason! I think we've-got-contact!"
"Define, 'Contact',"
Lieutenant Hammond gradually looked up over his shoulder at her. . .with a shocked look. "I'm picking up over a-hundred-fifty individual contacts. . . They're heading straight for us,"
"Double check the number of ships. Can you identify any of them?" Aaen asked.
"Holy cow! There's too many! There's gotta be at least. . .Two hundred? They've got a whole freaking armada out there!"
"Is Maddog on one of them?" Lieutenant Malcolm asked.
". . .No idea!"
"Rundown's are approaching the Station! There are reports of wounded on board!"
Captain Williams snapped, "Get them all docked as fast as you can," she faced forward going back to her seat, "Medical teams to landing pads one through six, on the double!"
Lieutenant Harrison nodded.
The Admiral gasped. The main viewscreen was gradually filling with small dark and lightly-colored hulls—engines fully lit.
"They're maintaining course! They're heading right for us! Their weapons are fully powered!"
"—Admiral?" Aaen asked.
She looked at the main viewscreen. "All hands, Red alert,"
*****
Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."
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