An officer commanded the local forces once a connection was established. It was Captain Roy, and his band of fellow Militiamen stood at a standstill after surviving the bombardment of the station and the enemy broke contact when their assault waned; they couldn’t finish the rest of the militiamen.
The fighters that previously assaulted the station held the advantage but when he and his men switched frequencies they were able to mount organized resistance.
He, like many others, was unaware of the Delta Band. It wasn't a common band in the current age, but with some digging noticed all ships carried a form of it. It operated in a very short range and found itself arbitrarily switching from the extremely low frequencies encrypted through radiation from stars.
As a result of this, the connections through it can be made, but its effect grows the closer in proximity one is to another capable of transmitting the band itself. Surprisingly, are many ships built from 2400 CE and later.
“Gotta hand it to those kids, finding this out,” Roy muttered to himself.
The cannons from the large ship beside him rang out through the speakers of his ship with dramatic feedback. Another enemy fighter went down. When one perished, another took its place, and the eerie silhouettes of ships larger than their own plagued him.
He noticed that fighters began backing off and indicators showed that the enemy was advancing. With their jammers, he was stuck with limited radar as the feedback turned out to be inconsistent and the Delta Band was for ship-to-ship communication only. So, he took his chance.
“All ships, this is Captain Roy, Head of Draxis Militia. Descend planet side to regroup and rearm. Sending coordinates now.” He ordered and led the way.
Roy connected to a comms officer on the ground at his rendezvous. It was a worn-down military installation when the colony was first founded some ten-odd years ago and was largely abandoned by the Republic. However, that didn't stop the Militia from taking control and making it their planet-side HQ. He was initially locked on by base defenses, but they ceased when he came closer to the base.
When he landed and departed his ship, he was met by a well-dressed man accompanied by several guards.
“Captain Roy?!” He exclaimed, “What the hell is going on?! We lost contact with Mantis Station and our communications on the ground are a mess!”
Roy held his hands up in a motion to try to calm the man before him. “Just, calm down first.” he started, “We were attacked, and not by some pirates or mercs. Something else entirely,” he said, confusion visible on his peer's face.
“That's why I need you to send out a notice over the Delta Band. The enemy is bound to enter that atmosphere any moment have we don't have time to lose,” he commanded.
The officer scrambled away with a guard in tow and Roy ordered the rest of the guards to remain.
“Right now, we don't have much time, but an enemy is looking to assault the planet, and it's our job to stop them, at whatever the cost.” He ordered, “You probably don't have handheld equipment that can transmit in Delta so get some techs to rig the antenna to do that. We can tune our radios to high-jack the signal. Get to it.”
The men did as he ordered and commanded or notified their commanders of the changes. Within several minutes, Roy received reports of the successful implementation of the new frequency. City centers were notified of an attack and all non-combat-capable individuals were taken to bunkers.
This time, Roy stood around a table that projected a holographic display of not just the surrounding area, but also the planet.
“How are surface-to-space scans coming?” he inquired.
“The band doesn't fare well in the atmosphere and the best we can get is the top of the stratosphere. That's as early as we're gonna get.” One officer spoke.
“What about planetary defenses, what do we have available?”
“Planet-wide defenses are slowly coming online. Once they're up, they should be able to retaliate without a wireless connection,” another reported.
“We've already got reports of enemy contact and defenses are reporting mass enemy casualties. They didn't know what hit 'em.
“Good,” he started, “We just have to be able to hold out until the Fleet arrives.”
The officers surrounding the table looked at one another, and skepticism filled their faces.
“I mean no disrespect, but,” one officer started, “Do you count on that Star Runner to make it?”
He sighed, “They have to. We've got no other choice,” the others reluctantly agreed.
“For now, the best we can do is defend and keep an eye out for landing parties. I don't want any more surprises.”
“Yes sir,” they collectively answered.
The first wave left as fast as it came. It was just over a couple of hours since their initial descent onto the planet and made arrangements to unify their communication within the enemy's jammer. Reports came in of landing parties out from the city center's influence and periodic strafing runs were conducted to try to destroy what emplacements they had. Some manage their mark.
Reports also came in from militiamen on the ground encountering the enemy in gunfights. Roy commanded ships with surveillance tech to support the ground troops and relayed shoddy videos of their engagements.
One such engagement took place in a dilapidated housing sector that was more flat land than actual homes. His men took up locations in buildings that had yet to crumble and flashes of tracers filled the battlefield. The enemy returned in kind with red flashes that filled the air.
“Get me a report from the ground, what kind of tech are they carrying.” He ordered and an officer manning a series of monitors beckoned to the battlefield.
“Got a direct line from one of the troops, patching him through now.”
The call came through and sounds of gunfire filled the audio and the screen came online with choppy video. The operator managing the call did what he could smooth over the video.
“Sergeant Cooper, reporting.” The trooper said, ducking from incoming fire, and pieces of a wall flew from the impacts. The trooper was fitted with a camouflage pattern that looked to be dated in the 23rd century. He wore a modern up-armored chest rig and his sleeves were rolled just up his forearm and wore a single-holed balaclava and a worn ballistic helmet with an up-armored attachment on the frontal portion of the helmet.
“Sergeant, I need to know what kind of weaponry the enemy employs.”
The Sergeant looked over the barricade and gave some orders to some troopers under him. Calls for the cover fire were heard and a litany of cracks from the friendly suppressive fire filled the scene before the Sergeant turned his attention to the camera.
“Hostiles employ a mix of ballistic and energy. Shoots like a repeating laser. Few of their ground forces use it, so I think it's new, even for them.”
“Good, see if you can recover their tech from their personnel. If you can't, don't leave one standing.”
“Yes sir! The sergeant responded before the call cut out.
For now, defenses were holding, and small engagements occurred on the outskirt of the city centers.
“How are we looking on our satellites? I don't think they've hit them all,” Inquired Roy.
“We've been trying to get a stable connection using the Delta Band, but the signal can't get past the stratosphere. We'd need something to boost the signal then we might be able to link whatever satellites we have.” Answered a comms officer.
“Do it,” He ordered, “Send the most stealth-capable ship we have to act as a booster.”
The young officers surrounding him got to work, and he turned his attention back to the holo-table. The battlefield casualties danced between forces with humanity losing ground while keeping in range of Anti-Air battery defenses.
A call rang from the previous officer as he reported news on the booster,“Great work,” he said calmly as the holo-table updated in real-time. “You've got to be kidding me…” he mumbled, overshadowing his earlier remark.
The display of the planet was in view and as more satellites came online, an increase in red indicators filled the space around the planet. Classifications were given to each indicator based on size, and were constantly updated with scans from the few working satellites. A wealth of corvettes, a multitude of frigates, differing in size, a handful of cruisers, and four carriers. The rest of the scene was filled with fighters in formation supporting their ground troops.
They were at the enemy's mercy and Roy struggled to find a way around it. However, that changed when he was alerted to a notification from the comms officer.
“Sir, I have a message. It is automated, but it seems to be coming from Shield Base Gamma.”
Roy played it and analyzed the holo-table. He noticed a strange contingent breaking off from the main force and gathering in what was almost a seemingly deserted area.
“What kind of information does Gamma hold?” He said urgently.
“Military intelligence, tech, research, and… location of Terra.” The realization dawned on him.
“Get a strike team together, we can't let that base fall! And get me Sergeant Cooper.”
“Aye, sir!” The room responded in unison and Captain Roy left the command center. He made his way past his ship to numerous smaller ships that were still being worked on in a separate lot. He was greeted by a lead mechanic who was covered in what looked to be oil, and the smell of aircraft fuel emanated from his clothes.
“How can I help, Roy?” the mechanic asked, wiping his head of sweat ad grime, “Looks wild out there.”
“Are you unaware of our current situation, Konner?” replied Roy, to which the mechanic shrugged.
“Hard to tell from here, but I know it ain’t good.”
“That’s because it’s not. We’re being attacked, and the planet is about to be invaded. We need low tech transport for a mission, and I need all available that you can part with.”
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Roy made clear his intentions and what he needed. He wasn’t asking and was prepared to overstep to take the vehicles by force.
“I got five now, and I can have up three in a couple of hours,” replied Konner.
Roy was pleased at his cooperation and gathered was troops were on standby, and loaded onto the vehicle. It was small, with a twin rotor. It was a single-detached seat, with the compartment in the rear that housed up to eight individuals and two, door gunners. Not only that, but it was nimble, and operated fairly silently. It was mostly mechanically actuated and did so on a lower level than ships of the modern era. However, considering the possibility of the enemy having advanced scanners, he deduced that they would be looking for starships, not ancient tech.
When all vehicles were occupied, the group of rotary vehicles lifted off to the east, where the base in question resided. Fortunately, Sergeant Cooper’s squad was on their route, and picked up for their assault of the intelligence base.
Using the vehicle’s radio, he spoke to the group as they entered the steep valleys of the sheer faced mountains.
“Listen up, the enemy made a target of the local TRSC base. It holds valuable information on not just tech, but a database of known and potential systems for colonies. It’s not information we want the enemy to get a hold of,” Those aboard his vehicle nodded in response, using the time to check their gear for functionality.
Many of his militia men were prior service, so they knew their way around a rifle and armor, but for many, it’s been years since they left the service. However, Captain Roy made it a point for all Militiamen to maintain some form of fitness, they hated him for it, but ended up thanking him in the end. Now, they had an enemy trying to exterminate them, since no hails were received, leaving them in the dark. The only response they received, were volleys of plasma fire.
Roy thought back to those moments that happened just hours ago, now, he found himself flying through the steep valleys of mountains, with a chilling air assaulting his face. He noticed that some of his men who didn’t wear gloves, were rubbing their hands together and blowing warm air into them.
The trek through the mountains took a bit longer than expected, but the lead pilot radio’d to the others of the taskforce that they were nearing their destination. The militia troops then did a final check of their gear, and checking their rifles for rounds in the chamber.
The pilot had given enough warning because the next thing they knew, they crested the lowest point of a mountain’s ridge and their target came into view. It was a building with shining walls of gray embedded into the side of a mountain. It was angular and sleek with slim black windows that lined some of the sides of the building.
Before it was a small courtyard that was separated by a concrete wall from the greater yard that had a collection of buildings, most likely used for clerical services and general maintenance.
As they approached, the thumps of the rotors sounded, reverberating off the mountain and surrounding elements, they came into contact with a small force of the alien soldiers who took notice of their aerial descent. Before giving them the chance to retaliate, the door gunners of Roy’s vehicle fired into the soldiers as they touched down into the courtyard.
“Alright!, move it! Get to the doors!” commanded Roy.
His militia men disembarked from their craft, and when they were clear, it lifted off from the way it came, leaving Captain Roy and his taskforce with the base.
Sergeant Cooper was one of their first to the door, but as he tried to open it, he was met with a locked door and a single black slate beside it.
“Captain, come ‘ere. The door’s locked, and we still got enemies on the other side of the wall,” he reported, ordering a detachment of militia men to take cover in defensive positions.
Roy looked to the lone black slate which was situated beside a door that was sealed shut. Only the faint outline of the door could be seen. He turned his attention to the black device beside it and placed his hand on it. After a moment, the doors opened with a whir, revealing an empty hall that led into what he assumed to be the reception hall.
“Lucky you, I guess,” commented Cooper, who turned to the detachment he left outside, “Don't let the enemy get through, hold out as long as you can until we can get support.”
“No worries Cooper, we got it,” replied a man who shared the same rank, “besides, I got my trusty knife if I ever run out of ammo.” The two shared a laugh and shared a final goodbye by bumping their knuckles together.
Roy took the remaining militiamen, including Cooper, deeper into the complex. As they entered, they were met with frantic individuals who donned the standard naval science coat. Papers and data tablets were strewn across the floor as many tried to pick them up, but they were forced to leave it as they left for an over-stuffed elevator. Roy took this chance to stop a lone woman who had tripped from one of the numerous tablets on the floor, propping her up.
“Huh? Who… Oh, that’s right, She let you in, didn't she,” she said, dusting her coat from unseen dust.
“I’m sorry, I don’t follow. Who?” as Roy replied, he noticed that only the woman was now left in the main reception hall, and the clamor of shuffling paper and tablets had ceased just moments ago.
“A project. If she let you in, then perhaps our worst fears have been realized… Look, It’s not my place to tell you, but if I do not make it to the bunker before it seals, then I'm done for. Head to the back of the hall, and there, you’ll find a hall that will lead you to a subsection of the complex. She’s waiting for you,” and the scientist left through a door he hadn’t realized was there until after she went through it.
“Kind of cryptic, don’t you think?” voiced Cooper, to which Roy simply nodded and ordered them to follow the directions she gave.
At the end of the room, a red light blinked in slowed intervals to which they entered through. Through it was a long hall that, when they reached the end, opened up into a storage room. There were several racks of vertical storage and some loose boxes were placed by the door that led to the sublevel, as indicated by the letters above the door.
There was another sealed door with another black slate beside it. He approached it, but instead of the main entrance where he was met with silence, he was now met with a response.
He assumed he was now speaking to another scientist who had not evacuated to the bunkers, but answered anyway, speaking towards the slate.
“Captain Roy, Jeriko,” he replied in a curt fashion.
As the words dissipated, the doors leading down opened. He expected the rest of the militia to follow, but Cooper only shook his head, flanked by most of the remaining forces that had entered the complex.
“We’ll hold the line here, Captain. This looks like it’s the only access point to the sublevel. We’ll do what we can to buy you time,” he rendered a salute to Roy, who returned the same, and left with his new security detail of five militiamen.
When the door opened, it revealed a descending staircase which was wide enough for them to stand in a row of four. The lights were dim, with the only luminary source being the lights that were placed on each step. It gave an eerie feeling, but before long, they reached the bottom. The door was already opened, and when they entered, they were met with rows of electronics that whirred from normal use. It was cold in the room, as evidenced with each breath they took.
“Must be serious tech if you need it this cold,” voiced a militia trooper.
Roy agreed with him on his assessment. Needing the room this cold for electronics err’d on the side of serious processing power, which only made him more curious. Then, a disembodied voice spoke out, reverberating in the moderately sized room that made it seem like the voice was everywhere at once.
He did as she requested, directing his attention to the corner of the room where he met a reflective surface. He thought it to be a joke, initially, but that thought subsided when the surface transitioned from reflective to transparent.
Before him, on the other side of the glass, stood a lone podium in the center that was only waist high. He expected to see another person behind it, but that wasn’t the case this time. But before he could address it, the podium lit up, and a small figure appeared. Their appearance looked ancient, and he couldn’t place it, seeing as how foreign the garb was to him. Long robes with an ornate chest plate paired with a similarly ornate helmet with a plume atop of it. The individual bowed, and subconsciously, Roy did the same.
“We don’t have a lot of time, what do you need from us?” he replied.
she said with a saddened countenance as the sounds of explosions and gunfire were heard in the direction of their exit,
Before he could answer, a hushed call came from one of the defense teams. It was Sergeant Cooper, “Sir, we have the enemy closing in from the main hall. We lost contact with the outer team, but I think we can put ‘em down.”
Roy turned to Athena who only nodded. His next words would seal the fate of his men, “Put up a fight, but execute Protocol Charlie-Lima.”
A pause immediately followed, but solemn understanding rang through his transmitter, “Yes sir. This had better be worth it. See you on the other side, Captain.”
The call was cut, but for a brief moment, gunfire was heard before ultimately ending transmission. The sounds of gunfire that rang through the pathway reverberated from the fight in the storage room, leaving him and the rest of the militia little time to come up with a plan. Before all was lost, Roy called for an outgoing transmission to be put on loop, for when the Fleet would eventually arrive, whether he was alive to meet them or not.
“This is Captain Roy, Head of Draxis Militia! Shield Base Gamma has enacted the Athene Protocol. The base is overrun, and Final Authorization requires Stellar Command Official Approval! They're sending everything they have! I Repeat!” He ended his transmission before he could issue another set of orders, the artificial intelligence spoke on his behalf.
Roy and his men did as she suggested, resting in the grates that provided ample space for their gear. The glass surface returned to it mirrored surface, with Roy placing himself in the space with his weapon held to his chest.
When the enemy clamored through the entrance, he heard them as their boots made contact with the metal flooring of the room. He wasn’t near them to hear them speak, but knew that they had begun to siphon data from the servers. As he waited, a transmission came to not just him, but to the remaining members of the militia force.
His vision became a blur, as he was met with the enemy. The room was deafened by gunfire from both parties, each firing wildly into the nearest body that they didn't recognize. The next moment, Roy felt a stinging pain in his lower abdomen, and he collapsed from the impact. When he realized, he found himself beside the glass pane where he spoke with the hologram.
The room was now quiet with a lone enemy crawling toward him. He felt a wave of disgust as it crawled, one arm holding its stomach trying to halt the bleeding. Without a second thought, he fired the remaining rounds of his rifle until a click was heard; an empty magazine.
He retired his rifle to his side, and the door with the podium opened, beckoning him inside. He crawled with what strength he had, resting against it. The door sealed with a hiss, leaving him inside with the hologram. She then spoke, offering words of comfort to the waning Captain.
“Heh, sure thing. We kinda raised some hell, so how about us greet the one in charge with a final goodbye, yeah? How long until reinforcements?”
Roy sat against the podium, waiting for his body to fail. He felt the rounds that punctured him and the organs that had ruptured when a large entity came before him. His jaw was replaced with metal, and wore a brown leather coat over a black environmental suit, worn similarly like the fallen soldiers around him. His skin was a dark blue hue, with even darker facial markings. He had long, pointed ears that shared the same shade as his skin, with fur frills at the end, and he wore black octahedron earrings that rested on the center portion of his ears.
Anger contorted his face and fired shots from his weapon into the glass. It was plasma-based, but the glass held well against it, melting over as it cooled.
“You ain’t gonna get through it like that, bud,” he replied to the alien as it struck the glass in a futile attempt to break through.
“You-!” it barked.
It was the first time he heard them speak, which gave Roy a sense of superiority. The first words of the enemy, and it was when they didn’t have the upper hand. The enemy left, rushing towards the exit when it saw the countdown, no doubt.
As the timer counted down, his eyes fell heavy as he struggled to keep them open. The pain in his stomach subsided, and only numbness could be felt. He didn’t exactly know what he had let the aliens take, all he could do was believe in the words of the hologram behind him and the soldiers on their way to avenge them.
“Oo-rah, boys. Let ‘em… have it.”