Portsmouth Orbital: Vulpine Occupied Tram Station

Time: 14:21

"Casualty report! NOW!" Bloodseeker was fuming. He'd let himself get distracted at a crucial moment. He'd lost control of his men. The bloodlust could be strong for the Hunters. There were records of the bloodlust from antiquity. Evolution had the Hunters associate the scent of blood with a potential meal. Worse still, lasers and plasma tended to cauterize wounds and boil blood. Modern battlefields often had the scents of cooked or charred meats. It took a lot of training for Hunters to suppress these instincts, and a good commander is always aware of the risks of bloodlust. Damnit. I know the risks of Bloodlust. Bloodseeker looked at his wounded and shaken men. They had fallen back to the tram station. Hunters rushed to aid the injured, tying tourniquets, administering pain suppressors, and bandaging wounds. Blue-green blood had stained many of their combat suits.

Bloodseeker cursed his own carelessness. He was so busy being confused by the shielded warriors and awed by the station's architecture that he failed to consider what lay hidden behind those shields. Yes, the men had gotten overconfident and advanced without orders, but as the huntmaster of this expedition... He bit his first digit, and let the blood stain his golden fur. "Apothecary!" A slender Hunter with ghostly white fur grunted acknowledgment but didn't bother looking up. He had his claws full tending to a hunter's chest. "What did they hit us with?"

"From what I can tell, they seem to be using slugthrowers." Bloodseeker blinked in surprise. "As for the method of propellant, I cannot say, but their weapons seem to fire numerous small projectiles at once in a tight pattern. Look here." The healer dropped a small metal ball, roughly the size of a kolka seed, into Bloodseeker's palm. "This man here was hit with no less than eight."

"Scatterguns? Like those used for hunting fowl?" The apothecary grunted an affirmative without looking up from his work. His claws were busy digging buckshot from the hunter's chest. No wonder the monkeys waited until they got close. Feign weakness in order to draw us in, before slamming my hunters with projectile guns. Since vulpine combat suits were meant to shield against high temperatures and radiation, projectile guns were a perfect counter. In more confined spaces, the ricochets ran the risk of harming the shooter as much as the target, but in such an open space as the massive habitat, that wasn't a problem. And with how small the projectiles are, the humans don't have to worry about puncturing their own hulls. Clever monkeys.

Another hunter walked up to Bloodseeker. He was a handsome specimen: bigger than most hunters, his red-brown fur was on the long side, and his face had strong, defining angles. The scar that ran from his left brow, across the empty eye socket, and down to his shoulder was proof of the battles he'd survived. The hunter, Bonesplitter, addressed his commander.

"Bloodseeker, we've lost twelve hunters. Another twenty-three will need to return to the ships for medical attention." Bonesplitter's lips parted showing his daggerlike teeth. His tone was annoyed, but his good eye sparkled with glee. "And we thought these monkeys would be pushovers. Who would have thought they had a vicious side." Bloodseeker let himself crack a small grin at his friend. They'd been pups from separate litters, but grown up in the same town. The two had been getting into trouble together for decades now. If Bloodseeker was the brains, Bonesplitter was the muscle. "So what now, boss? They'll shred us with those scatterguns, but if we just keep our distance we should be fine, right?"

He was right. They could use the range on their laser guns to just take potshots from a distance...in theory. "No, we'll hold here in the station for now. Have the cargo skiffs to bring up ballistic plates, plasma cannons and heavy lasers, and ferry the wounded back to the ships."

Bonesplitter's eyes narrowed. "So we're hiding?"

"No, just catching our breath. We will use the walking mounts and advance as soon as the weapons are here. What's the status of the szarvasbogár? Do we have any operational?"

Bonesplitter grinned. Aggression, bloodlust, and glee showed clearly on his face. "We can get all five of them unloaded in an hour or two. The cargo gates are definitely large enough for them."

"Make it happen." He almost felt sorry for the humans. No. No, he didn't.

---------------

Portsmouth Orbital: 3rd Defense Line

Time: 17:04

At twenty years old, Private Aleksander Volkova was the youngest member of Charlie Team. When he was fourteen years old, his older sister was kidnapped off the streets. That was the risk of being a beautiful, young blonde living in the slums of Moskva. The old mafia families still maintained operations even in this day and age. Their family gave up on ever seeing her again. It was sheer luck that the Sky Guard managed to catch the ship trying to smuggle her, and other young women into Nova Roma spaceport. That day, Aleks pledged to join the Sky Guard: the coast guard of the void. He wanted to help protect other people the way they had protected his family.

Of course, when he signed on, Aleks was expecting to help people suffering system malfunctions, and stop the odd pirate or smuggler. A year ago, if someone told him he'd be fighting aliens in a bitter siege, he'd have thought it a joke. But here he was, manning the barricade at the final tram station before the citadel at the ass end of human space.

Built into an asteroid, the cylindrical station seemed, from a distance, a massive tower built on top of the rock. The inside surface was large enough to house a modest municipality including farmland, and had its own weather system. The citadel was built deep into the asteroid's surface and contained the main reactor, the resource extraction sector, station control, and the garrison. Additionally, civilian shelters were built in the citadel in case the main cylinder was ever at risk of being breached. The finished station would one day house up to half a million people, but, for the moment, they only had the 600 construction workers (and their families), and a little over a fifty security personnel.

Corporal Rebecca Peterson, another member of Charlie squad, had affixed her pocket mirror to her bayonet with duct tape, and was using to peer through the window. She hated having food in her teeth and loved touching up her teal eyeshadow. The rest of the squad liked to tease her since she took the damn thing everywhere. But, if they survived this, the squad promised to never tease her for it again.

"Anything, Becca?" Lieutenant Thaddeus Harper was a big, gruff man. Built like an American Football player, standing next to Peterson made her slender build seem positively tiny in comparison.

"They've wised up, keeping their distance, and setting up behind the first barricade. Looks like they've switched to different armor too," she sighed. "Tell me, why didn't we just charge them earlier and cut them down when we first engaged?" It was a good question. When the Fox-men had learned their armor was immune to the civilian laser pistols, they had strode right up to their troops. Of course, refractive fabric and insulation may do wonders against lasers and plasma, but against buckshot, you may as well have been wearing a hoodie and rain coat. Firing a few flashbangs from grenade launchers followed by shotguns at moderately close range had sent the Vulpine back reeling. But they were quick to adapt. Over the last three hours, the vulpine had been suspiciously quiet only launching sporadic, probing attacks.

"Boss's orders." Thaddeus grunted. He'd have loved to press the attack then. They easily could have wiped them out. "'Sides, do you know about New Promontory?"

"Yeah, didn't the foxes obliterate it?" Aleks remembered the news. New Promontory was a Mormon colony that settled outside of the 50ly radius that constituted official Human Space. Once you left 50 LY from Sol, you were beyond Earth's borders, and no longer subject to her laws...or protection. There were groups that disliked living under UN jurisdiction and left the bubble.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"Well, being Americans, and Mormons, you can bet they brought way more guns than they needed for hunting. Apparently, the fox pirates got a bloody nose, and decided to turn a fusion generator into an improvised bomb. Took out half the colony."

"Ah." Corporal Ryan Gordon, the techie of the squad cursed under his breath through his non-regulation moustache. "We can't hurt them too badly then."

"Yup, if we do, they pull out and leave us an explosive present. We need to let them think they can still win."

"Oh shit! Get down!" Becca dove for the deck and the others followed suit. A beam of bright white lanced towards the building and detonated slagging the wall mere meters to their right. Plasma and laser fire streamed into the hole while security forces returned fire with grenade launchers and shotguns and submachine guns.

Gordon was using his headset to tap into the security feed. "Looks like we may not have to fake it. They've got fusion blasters!" One of the vulpine was manning a gun nearly as big as it was. The thing was mounted on four articulated legs and was capable of walking with the troops who used it. According to reports, this was an anti-tank weapon.

Thaddeus touched his headset. "Command, this is Charlie leader! Charlie, Delta and Echo are under fire from heavy weapons! Looks like a fusion blaster! They're keeping at range and dug in behind the second barricade! Please advise!"

"Understood, Harper. Captain Mori says you've bought the boffins enough time. Fall back to the citadel."

"Copy, falling back!" Thaddeus swung his grenade launcher out of the window and fired three rounds: Ka-thump, thump, thump! About a twenty meters out, a thick metallic cloud began to fill the space between the tram station and the first barricade. "Alright people, that smoke won't last long! All squads, fall back to the Citadel! "

Aleks and the rest of the troops sprinted to the rear exit. They could hear the whooping cries of the warriors behind them, as they began charging for the tram station. The Citadel was a mere football pitch away, but between the their position and the final barricade, the ground was open with no cover in sight. About halfway across the tarmac, plasma and las fire began strafing the retreating officers. Vulpine hunters set up in the windows and doorways facing the fleeing troops while another group charged out the door after them. To his right, Aleks heard a scream as neon pink shots slammed into a member of Delta. Ahead of him, Thaddeus, and the grenadier from Echo wheeled.

"Keep going! Don't stop until you reach the citadel!" Thaddeus fired the rest of his smoke grenades from his six-shot grenade launcher before dropping it and sprinting after his squad. The grenadier fired flash-bangs at the same time just as a las bolt flash boiled his brain. The vulpine fire intensified now, hunters choosing to compensate for the lack of visibility with volume of fire.

Aleks ran through the gate directly to the waiting supply van grabbing a rail-carbine. The engineering bay had just finished manufacturing enough for the barricade troops, and not a moment too soon. He checked the power cell before swiping a spare, and four magazines from the van. While the same size as old gunpowder magazines, railgun magazines had roughly two or three times the capacity depending on the gun.

Descended from the old AR series and manufactured by the venerable Colt Company, the M-72 rail carbine was a bullpup, select-fire flechette gun. Instead of gunpowder, it used electromagnetism to throw metal darts down range. While the magazine size hadn't changed from the old AR-15, the smaller flechettes meant the magazine could hold 70 rounds. It was standard issue for the Marines and Space Guards, and a favorite for mid-range to close quarters fights. There are two ways to guarantee yourself a bloody nose from a marine: the first was to call them jarheads. The second was to insult their M-72's.

Confident that he now had proper equipment for fighting at both close and longer range, Aleks sprinted to his spot on the wall just in time to see Thaddeus take a plasma beam to the back of the head. Aleks roared before unloading a full magazine downrange with little regard to accuracy. His bullets hit little more than air doing little to hinder the vulpine pirates. He dropped the spent mag and was about to load another when he found himself flung onto the deck plates. The right side of his face felt a strong stinging and he tasted blood.

"Damnit, Volkova! Get it together!" Aleks wheeled to yell at her, but stopped short. Peterson knelt next to him. Her eyeshadow ran down her face. He'd never seen her cry. "Now's not the time!" She turned to Gordon. "Ryan, have Sport get Thaddeus inside, then seal the gate!"

"Got it, Becca!"

Immediately, Sport, a metal dog, and one of the unit's resupply drones ran through the gate and pulled their Lieutenant inside before the gate slammed shut. The second batch of smoke began to clear and the incoming fire quickly became more accurate forcing the defenders into cover. By now, more vulpine had taken positions on the roof of the tram station, and the intense barrage of fire was keeping the defenders pinned along the wall.

"Command, we're taking heavy fire out here! Anything you can do to help would be great!"

Becca pulled out her mirror again and poked it above the wall just in time to see the damn mounted gun re deploy. "Shit!" She winced as a plasma beam cored her mirror.

Crack! A loud thunderclap pierced the air as a railgun round shot through the vulpine mounting the fusion blaster. Crack! His replacement fell missing half his head. Markswoman Anila Ali perched with her rail sniper in one of the Citadel windows. She turned her attention to the enemy weapon itself. "Artemis, can you tell where I can shoot that weapon to disable it?"

"Calculating." A slightly synthetic voice with a melodic quality spoke in her ear. "Yes, I think so. Here: the containment field projector."

"Thanks." A section of the heavy weapon was highlighted on her eyepiece. She steadied her breath, took aim, and Crack! A tungsten dart sped from the rifle and perforated the firing chamber of the fusion blaster. The magnetic containment failed, and an artificial sun, no longer contained, bloomed outwards consuming the firing chamber, the gun, and its third operator in micro-nova.

Still, it wasn't enough to stop the damn foxes. Vulpine combat synthetics stormed out of the tram station en masse while the Vulpine themselves provided suppressing fire. Rail carbines downed a some, but not nearly enough as the fox-oid robots sprinted across the open ground firing as they did.

Suddenly, two hatches in the citadel opened, and two turrets extended from the walls. The M2200 Oerlikon guns spat forth rivers of 20mm high-explosive that tore into the ranks of synth troops rushing down the open road. With no cover, the vanguard quickly disappeared into fragments of metal and artificial muscle. Artemis, the station's security AI, then swept the occupied tram station with precisely targeted death. Every vulpine on the roof evaporated into a cloud of coppery green mist, and red-brown fur. Any hunters foolish enough to poke their heads out were quickly slammed with explosive death.

To their credit, the vulpine troops had switched to ballistic armor between the last engagement and this one, and it proved capable of at least keeping them alive so long as they didn't take direct hits from the cannons. With a stalemate firmly established, they just had to hold out until help could arrive.

---------------

UNV Renown: Command Deck

Time: 18:56

"Damnit, Johnny, you're late!" Captain Mika Mori glowered at her friend over the com link. He was supposed to be here over an hour ago.

"I'm sorry, Mika. Renown is still on her shakedown cruise. We had a problem with one of the Alcubierre rings. With repairs almost finished, we should be in system in about two to three hours." Captain Johnathan Bright rubbed his temples. He and Mika had been friends since their academy days. They'd gotten to know each other very well. Of course, life in the UN military being what it was, relationships were...difficult to maintain.

Mori sighed. "Acknowledged. We've got the smart guns up and running. With explosive rounds, I figure we can hold them in a stalemate for a little longer before they decide we're not worth the effort and start blasting us with their ships. You owe me dinner for standing me up, John."

John grinned wryly. If she is joking during combat, I probably don't need to worry too badly. "All right. So long as you provide the drinks."

"Deal. I'll see you s--"

"Ma'am, major heat source on Citadel sensors!" The technician was off screen, but you could hear how pale their face was. "You're...You're gonna want to see this!"

Bright heard an explosion over the com link as the lights and the image flickered.

"Oh, shit! All forces, this is Mori, fall back inside the citadel! I repeat fall back inside! Do not engage Vulpine tanks! Prepare for close quarters com--"

The screen went to static. The whole bridge was quiet save for the coms tech: "Transmission lost, sir." Captain Bright swallowed hard. Tanks. They brought god damn tanks. Oh God, I'm sorry for not praying more. Please, keep her safe... He took a breath to calm himself. He needed to maintain composure for his crew. "Commander Sarma?"

"Yes, Captain?" Commander Nakita Sarma was a professional, no-nonsense Indian woman. She was reliable, professional, and good at her job. And that's all Captain Bright had been able to learn about her in the past couple weeks. She kept to herself mostly. He pushed these thoughts aside for now.

"If we push it, how soon can we get to Portsmouth?"

"Repairs have just finished. If we redline the engines, I figure we can make it in an hour."

Bright nodded. "Do it. I want the fleet to jump as soon as we are able. Best possible speed."