Zero Point Game
Posted on 05 Mar 2021 @ 4:40pm by Major Declan Finn
Mission:
M1 - Emergence
Location: Outside of Main Engineering
Timeline: Following "Divine Intervention"
1329 words - 2.7 OF Standard Post Measure
In the near distance he could see the mercenaries finding their own cover, moving their energy shields forward to protect themselves while several of them worked to deploy inhibitors to stop whomever was getting fancy with the transporter beams. He was tempted to take a few pot shots at the skirmishers shooting out to collect fallen gear from his Marines or their own comrades, but every charge would need to count.
“Kaplan to Finn. Copy?” Finn’s short-wave crackled.
“Go ahead, Kaplan.”
“What’s the situation, Captain. It’s gotten awful quiet.”
“Looks like Quinn got internal transporters online. They’re picking weapons off the boarding party. They’ve retreated for now, but it's only a matter of time before they get inhibitors up. Keep yourselves buttoned up. I wouldn’t put it past them to have another trick up their sleeve.”
“Copy that, Cap. Good luck. Kaplan, out.”
Declan sat back against the bulkhead, looking across at Lance Corporal Holladay triple-checking his squad assault weapon while he checked his own rifle, then his pistol, then the spare he’d taken from Ingstrom just to have something to occupy his mind. All the while, he kept stealing glances down the corridor to see where the enemy was at now. He perked up to see Private Corinth running full tilt down the passage back towards them. Their enemy was either too occupied or like them, too concerned for conserving energy charges, that they didn’t fire on him as he ran back to their position and threw himself behind Holliday and slumped to the deck, heaving for breath.
“They held half their force in reserve, Captain,” he said breathlessly. “They’re coming up now, with inhibitors active. 3rd’s already digging in. Lafell found another squad weapon, Lance Corporal Demetriov’s… he’s gone,” he said in a sort of lame afterthought. “I grabbed these, thought it’d help,” he added, waving the crates he’d been carrying as he ran. He put one down and with his boot slid it across the deck toward Finn.
Declan grabbed it and opened the little ammo box sized crate to see twelve neatly stacked plasma grenades. Not the ideal weapon in closed quarters, aboard a station, with no atmo, but it’d still do better than chucking rocks at them.
“Good job,” Finn nodded, waving him over. “Dig in here with me, and get ready.”
They didn’t have to wait long. The mercenaries, with their inhibitors and shields at the ready again, began moving forward down the corridor. It wasn’t that concerning at first; ten or so merc’s moving at a steady clip forward. But after about ten yards they were joined by ten more, then twenty. Whatever group in reserve Corinth had seen was clearly a big unit. He should have known better, and kicked himself for not. They’d tested the lines. They wanted to see what they’d do and how they’d react before sending their full forces through. Maybe he could have played that differently and forced them to make a different play, but it didn’t matter now. The die was cast and given the numbers he was seeing, they were going to be lucky to walk away from this.
“When they get close enough with that shield that you think you can hit it, we toss these through the gaps in the coverage. Try to kill the emitters on the other side,” Finn ordered to anyone listening, gesturing at the grenades. “Make your shots count. We could be here for a long time. Ready, up, Marines!” he barked, shifting up to a firing position himself and aiming his rifle across the top of the crate.
The cacophony of weapons fire echoed from down the corridor and the comm came alive with 3rd and 4th squad declaring that they were under fire. As if waiting for them to announce it, the enemy pressing on them opened fire and soon the corridor was filled with lances of colored light once more. Some streaked past harmlessly, others pounded on their cover positions. Finn and the others answered that fire as best they could, picking their targets a little more carefully as the shield sleds closed the distance.
Finn dropped down from cover and laid his rifle down, grabbing for the crate of grenades. He looked across to Holladay who nodded and grabbed his crate as well. Declan moved into a crouch to throw the grenade and then counted off to Holladay. Three, two, one. Together they turned and chucked the cylinders as far as the could. Finn was aiming for the top right corner of the corridor, to a gap in the shields by the bulkhead where it met the ceiling. It was a narrow spot to hit and he’d never had an arm for that. The cylinder hit the edge of the shield and detonated on the wall. It didn’t hit the emitter, but judging by the scream that followed, it got something.
Declan and Holladay went back and forth with this, effectively keeping the advance at bay. But they weren’t going to be able to keep it up forever. They would run out eventually. Over the comm’s they could hear that 3rd and 4th weren’t faring all that much better. 3rd was holding but 4th was already making it clear that they were about to retreat. They had no choice. Finn wasn’t there to give them competing orders and so let the team leader make the call. He just reached into the crate for another grenade, counting only five left. With a steadying breath he turned to scout his target once more and was about to pull the pin when there was weapons fire behind the merc’s.
The sound didn’t quite fit the scenario at first, and it took him a moment to realize that there was fire coming from behind the enemy and that they were scrambling to cover it. He quickly put the grenade back and grabbed his rifle, looking desperately down the corridor for any sign of anything. Had Loreth come back a different way and was just distracting the enemy? Had the Marines in Medical made their way up? Most likely it was Master Sergeant Oray coming up from the Cargo Bay when he hadn’t heard from them. That salty old bastard wouldn’t have brought many, certainly not enough to turn the fight, but it could help them thin the herd.
“Oray,” Finn smirked at Holladay, “Good distraction to get one of those shield sleds down,” he ordered.
“Roger that,” Holladay grinned back.
Finn moved to a crouch, to charge forward and take advantage of their turned attention but the moment he got up, heavy repeater fire ripped down the corridor and flashed to a stop on the backside of the shield sleds. It was clearly a SFMC heavy repeater, the kind that any field emplacement or guardhouse would have. The only problem with that was that the gun required a dedicated power source and two to man it. Of course, the even bigger problem with that was… that they hadn’t brought one.
He stared at the shields flashing repeatedly with the energy reflection of the repeater trying to work out where Oray would have gotten one. In his ears his comm’s crackled. “... copy. Rutland to Finn. Anyone. Do you copy? Does anyone copy?” a man with a perfectly polished british accent spoke. “Bloody answer!”
Declan let out a guffaw of disbelief. Rutland!? Rutland?! If the Colonel was here, that meant… it meant that their asses were out of this vice. MacTaryn had sent the cavalry. Finn jammed the comm button on his wrist and answered, the smile evident in his voice, “G’day, Colonel. This is Finn. I’d like to report a pest problem. Any chance you could help?”
