Task Force Mars - Kevin Dockery [124]
“Loud and clear, Boss,” came the junior lieutenant’s reply.
“See if you can take a right turn. We’ve got a tough nut in front of us and could use a little flank support.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
More fire spat from the large compartment before them. Through the smoke Jackson could make out a collection of tables and chairs, like a mess hall deep within the Lotus. He couldn’t see how wide the space was, but from the firepower there were a good number of hostiles forted up there.
“Grenade!” someone shouted, and the men instinctively pulled flat against the walls or hunkered deeper into their doorway niches. Jackson saw the flash and felt the explosion at the same time, the blast knocking him hard against the floor. A number of red lights flashed on his HUD, and he knew his suit had been breached—but when he pushed himself up again, he was certain he hadn’t taken any significant wounds.
“I’ve got an access route—we’re going in, L.T.” This was Sanders’ voice, sounding very confident. “Look for us to come from your left.”
Abruptly Jackson saw the tracers of his men’s counterattack, streaking across his field of view into the compartment. They had found a side door and looked to be opening up with everything they had.
“Take it to the bastards!” shouted the officer, activating his jets, shooting forward along the floor. Guns blazing, the rest of the SEALS attacked as well, spilling one by one through the hatch.
They were indeed in a large mess hall, with signs of damage—broken chairs and tables, soot-blackened bulkheads and decks—all around. Junk floated in the air, while several fires burned and smoked in what looked like the galley. Several pirates snapped shots at Sanders and five men as the lieutenant (j.g.) led the aggressive flank attack. Jackson drew a bead, shattering the helmet—and head—of one of these shooters. The enemy’s suits looked as shabby as their shuttles, dirty and patched together, and they moved now in sheer terror, trying to flee into a corridor to the right.
Abruptly, a series of blasts—red bolts of directed energy—erupted from that corridor. The fleeing pirates were simply shredded by this new attack. More fighters, wearing battery packs and carrying those beam weapons like compact assault rifles, came charging in from that direction. These newcomers wore white suits trimmed in red stripes.
“Wait—hold fire!” Jackson shouted, as chaotic bursts of beam and projectile gunnery fire ripped into the compartment where the pirates were holed up. The shooters were new arrivals, not SEALS, but they seemed to share them same enemy.
The surviving pirates in their redoubt were shooting wildly now, under attack from three directions. Jackson saw a burst of that energy weapon—definitely not Terran in origin—tear through one of the hostiles, cutting his body almost in half. The riddled corpse drifted grotesquely through the air as the SEALS punched home their attack, six orf eight Teammates tumbling into the large compartment at once.
Maraniss had his small axe out and used it to crack the helmet—and the skull—of one struggling pirate. Another was hit while he was trying to shoot, and tumbled over like a child’s toy, drifting eerily.
The two attatcking forces converged in the large compartment, and Jackson identified the white and red suits of their allies as Shamani. He guessed, correctly as it turned out, that these were some of the original crew of the Lotus who had impulsively joined in on the attack to reclaim their ship.
In less than a minute the firefight was over. Chief Harris and three SEALS used their in-suit fire extinguishers to put out the smoky blazes in the galley. Several of the white-suited crewmen saluted the wary SEALS, and Jackson returned the gesture, encouraged—although not surprised—by the discipline displayed by his men.
“The air pressure is still good,” Ruiz reported. “Quality is fair—non-toxic, for sure.”
“We got one prisoner, Skipper,” reported Baxter as he and his partner, Keast, held the arms of a pirate behind his back.
“Take off his helmet,” Jackson ordered, gliding