Hostile POW Camp
Planet XB483
Commander Chase of the battleship Trafalgar was in freefall, six thousand metres above the surface of the planet. His suit’s heads-up display indicated that he was directly overhead the POW camp. His mission was to exfiltrate a prisoner.
Security Officers Winter, Smith, and Nicholls were still successfully in formation behind him. They hadn’t been told why this engineer was so vital to the war effort, and they hadn’t asked.
XB483 had been uninhabited before the war; now their enemy had established a base here. It was very close to the cluster navy’s command installation, and Chase had often wondered if it wasn’t placed there in mockery. Their defences seemed disproportionate to the facility’s importance, as far as their reconnaissance flights had observed. Out of the five scouts sent to get photos, only three had returned, Trafalgar’s ability to bypass these patrols was how Chase now found himself in freefall. It had been seven years since he had trained in orbital skydiving. He had assumed he would have been more nervous.
The cloud layer cleared, and Chase saw that the world below him was mainly grey, and for the first time, he could make out the facility with his naked eyes rather than the computer overlay. The surface was mainly mud, some kind of clay. He had been expecting to do this in the rain; the number of dry days was apparently in the double digits.
The only way they had got this close was to use the Trafalgar’s jump drive to put the ship inside the atmosphere. Harding, the ship’s commander, had been opposed, citing the risk, but the Admiralty had insisted on the necessity of retrieving this prisoner. Once they had jumped in, Chase and his team had literally thrown themselves out the storage bay’s cargo door. A split second later, he saw, as he looked back, the large battleship jump for a second time, this time to the planet’s surface where it was now resting in a dried out riverbed. He could just make out its curved hull in the distance, about 7 km from the POW camp, which was still rushing up to him at around 190 kilometres per hour.
The heads-up display showed a new pop-up in green, indicating that his suit’s thrusters were about to automatically kick in to control his descent, unless he chose to override. As he slowed, he hoped the bright bursts of energy from the thrusters would still go unnoticed. Their defences were all based on long-range sensors as far as they could tell, and they didn’t expect anyone to make it this far.
The Trafalgar was safe, sat below the sensor sweeps. He felt his heart rate begin to slow as they all engaged their thrusters. Nothing they could do now but wait. Looking down, he saw a sudden bright flash from the camp, followed seconds later by a beam of red energy.
“Incoming!” he yelled, switching on his team’s frequency.
“I see it,” replied Winter, the Trafalgar’s tactical officer. The blasts kept coming. There was little they could do to evade them aside from hoping whoever had them in their sights was a lousy shot. Suddenly, there was a deafening scream. Chase tapped the side of his helmet before realising that he couldn’t cover his ears and muted the comm for a moment. There would be time to grieve later.
On his HUD, he noted one of their team indicators go from green to red before blinking out. He soon saw Nicholls fall past him, accelerating to terminal velocity.
“Dammit,” he said. “First chance we get, cut thrusters. It’s gonna be a rough landing,” said Chase. Winter acknowledged him. They would have a harder time searching the prison with just the three of them, especially since they had already been spotted.
“The weapons have stopped,” said Winter.
“Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know,” replied Chase, honestly, but he wouldn’t question it for a moment. “Maybe we made it past the automated defence and they’re scrambling the guards?” They were circling the prison yard. Chase reached up and hit the release switch on his suit’s chest. The chute disengaged, and he fell to the ground with a thud.
Chase had intended to land going into a forward roll but found himself instead face down in the dirt. He got to his feet to find that Winter had managed a much more dignified landing. A glance around the prison yard showed no one had seen them come in, landing in a deserted corner of the yard. Chase detached the thruster pack from the back of his suit and removed his helmet, pulling the rest of the suit off over his standard-issue boots, to reveal an engineer’s jumpsuit. Winter did the same, and they discarded the equipment behind a collection of garbage cans.
Chase indicated for Winter to follow him as he slowly and cautiously made his way through the gate into the main recreation yard, where about a hundred prisoners were standing around.
The reconnaissance had been unclear whether the prisoners had been issued uniforms. Luckily, their hunch had been correct, and they were still in their military and civilian attire. Chase and Winter should blend in perfectly. Chase reached into the pocket of his overalls and reached for a hard copy of a photograph of the man they were sent to extract. The pocket was empty. Chase took a deep breath and didn’t let himself panic. He reached into a different pocket on his left side and found it. The name “Sutherland” was typed below the image of a dark-haired man in his mid-forties.
Looking at everyone in the yard, Chase was getting some strange looks in return. Winter headed to the far end and was doing the same. He pocketed the photo once more so as not to draw attention to himself. The prisoners were mixed from all over the cluster—men and women in naval uniform, several ground pounders, as well as civilians. There were even some children.
Chase met up with Winter once more in the centre of the yard.
“No joy?” she asked him.
Chase shook his head. “Well, then, we need help.”
Chase felt a hand come down on his shoulder. He turned around and saw an older man with a white beard in chef’s whites. He almost went to grab the man’s arm in self-defence, but stopped. Chase looked at the whites a bit closer. There was embroidered with the name of a ship, ENS Albion.
“Who are you looking for?” the chef asked.
Chase wasn’t sure if he could trust him, but if they couldn’t locate Sutherland, would it really make that much of a difference? He showed the man the photograph.
“Shit,” the chef replied. He turned and pointed at the wall to the prison yard. On the other side, Chase could make out the wooden square frame of a gallows.
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“You just missed him,” the chef said. “They found shooting those who resist wasn’t enough of a deterrent, so they’ve added an element of theatre.”
Winter thanked him and started making her way towards the wall. There was a gate with a prominent lock on it, but they could climb up the side and make it across. Chase pulled over a box that one prisoner had been sitting on and used it to get himself over the wall. He landed in a much more elegant pose than his previous landing.
There were three men standing at the gallows. They had not yet been given a noose. Surrounding them stood half a dozen of the aliens. Chase recognised them from his earlier negotiations with the Ruler Of All Realms—Chase had taken to referring to him as Rory. The hostiles spotted the newcomers and raised their weapons. Chase Winter, and Smith scrambled in different directions, drawing enemy fire. Chase pulled his sidearm and laid down suppression fire as Winter ran towards the gallows. The three blindfolded prisoners did not know what was happening. Winter got to Sutherland and removed his blindfold before pulling a knife from her boot and releasing his tied hands. She pulled him down as one guard shot the prisoner to his right at point-blank range, who fell back off the gallows screaming as his body was vaporised.
The other prisoner fell from the gallows and landed with a thud. “Grenade!” yelled Winter as she unclipped an explosive from her belt and tossed it towards the rear wall. Chase used his arm to protect his face. The grenade blew a large enough hole in the wall for them to escape through. Chase laid down suppression fire as they backed up and through the new gap.
Winter had Sutherland in a fireman’s lift. On the outside of the prison, there were several sets of hovercraft, enough for two people each. Winter dropped Sutherland in the passenger seat and powered hers on, holstering her weapon. Chase got in a second vehicle and started the ignition. The vehicle raised a few centimetres above the ground and took a moment to balance itself, only for the balance to be thrown off when someone climbed into the passenger seat. It was the other prisoner from the gallows.
“Thanks for the ride,” he said.
Looking back towards the gallows, Chase saw Smith hadn’t made it but he didn’t have time to think about it.
“Let’s get out of here!” he yelled to Winter and hit the accelerator. They were soon moving away from the prison at breakneck speed. Chase fumbled for a safety strap and clicked it into place.
The Trafalgar lay directly ahead of them, since they had arrived using the Trafalgar’s powerful jump drive that allowed them to land without detection, it would also allow them to leave as quickly as they had arrived.
A massive explosion appeared directly ahead, and Chase had to push the steering lever hard to the right to avoid it in time. He looked up and realised there were several fighter craft swarming around them. That was not a good sign. It would only take minutes to reach the ship, but that might be asking too much at this point. He lifted his left hand and tapped the communications device in his ear.
“Trafalgar, we’ve got aerial company coming in hot. Assignments for a moment?”
“This is Trafalgar Actual,” came the stern, clipped British voice of the battleship’s newest commander, Celia Harding. “Are you able to make it to us? We will lay down suppression fire,” she said.
“Acknowledged,” replied Chase.
The second hovercraft came to an emergency stop as it was rocked by explosions on every side. That was not good. They had been sent to retrieve Sutherland specifically. Chase banked hard when Winter failed to restarted the engine. One fighter came around to strafe his vehicle. He threw the stick to the left and then the right to move in a zigzag.
“Are you okay?” Chase called to Winter. She was trying to restart the engine with no success. She shook her head in frustration. Chase pulled over and ran over to them.
“It just won’t start,” she said. “We’ll have to take him in yours. Me and your new friend will just have to try our luck.”
Chase frowned for a moment. “There is room for you in the hold.”
“You mad?” said Winter. She looked over to the Trafalgar, lying in the mud. It was only a few kilometres from them now. “Not a long trip. Worth a go,” Winter replied. “But I should drive. Rank has its privileges,” replied Chase, as they jogged over to his hovercraft.
“How you doing, Sutherland?” Chase asked. The man had clearly not been expecting this today. He started to reply when his body erupted into hundreds of pieces by another explosion. Winter leapt and forced Chase to the ground as the fighter continued its run over them. Looking up, he could see it turning around for another pass.
“Right, let’s make it quick,” said Chase. He could see several more fighters on the horizon. There were pieces of Sutherland scattered all around the scorched ground, their mission now a failure. He opened the rear compartment and Winter climbed in without complaint. He quickly shut it and powered the engine back on, forcing the ignition down all the way. The fighter came round for another pass and fell to the ground, overshooting them due to the fire from Trafalgar’s defence cannons.
“Nicely done, Trafalgar,” Chase said. “There are several more on the horizon.”
“We see them,” Harding replied.
“I’m afraid there’s been a complication. Our mission has failed,” reported Chase.
He saw the grand old warship fill his windshield as they closed in on it, and made for the bay, waiting for them with its huge cargo doors open.
Chase continued his zip-zag pattern as more weapons’ fire rained down upon them. Trafalgar’s guns were deafeningly loud as they fired directly above them. He cut the acceleration and turned hard, allowing the craft to drift into the bay.
“We’re onboard. Jump, jump, jump!” Chase yelled into the comms. He leapt out of his seat and dashed round to pop the hood. Winter climbed out just when the room stretched out into infinity for a brief moment before snapping back into place.
Chase was used to the experience, but the escaped prison, who had never experienced an instantiation jump, vomited, which before it could hit the deck, was sucked towards the cargo bay doors.
Chase grabbed the nearest access ladder and held on tight. A second later and the safety automations kicked in and a bright blue forcefield appeared over the door, holding the oxygen in.
The last of the vomit splashed up against it.
“Right,” said Chase to their guest. “Who exactly are you?”