First Strike by - (reading e books .TXT) 📕

handing Sheridan back his canteen.

Sheridan wracked his brain trying to think if he had ever heard of a planet called Kollos. “Kyrad, where is Kollos located in the empire?”

“It is just on our side of the ceasefire line. It had another name at one time, but after liberation it was renamed in honor of one of the Lord’s disciples.”

“Good God,” mumbled Sheridan.

Cole asked, “What is it? What’s wrong, sir?”

Sheridan struggled to comprehend what he had just learned. “Sergeant, at the end of the last war, there were star systems on both sides of the border that had once belonged to the other side. As part of the ceasefire agreement, we dispatched fleets of ships to withdraw our people from the Kurgan side of what we now call the Disputed Zone. They did the same for their colonists. I’m beginning to think that we weren’t told the whole truth. This man is living proof that not everyone was brought back across our side of the line.”

“To be honest, sir, when Tartov told us his story about suspecting that there was a traitor onboard his ship, I thought he was full of crap. However, after seeing this man with my own eyes and hearing what you have said, I have to wonder how many of these people have been infiltrated into our military.”

Garcia walked over. “Sir, the woman is dehydrated and has bruises all over her body. She was probably abused for quite some time before you found her. I’ve given her something for the pain.”

“What’s her name?” asked Sheridan.

“Kelly Green.”

“Watch the prisoner,” Sheridan told Agnar. He walked over to Kelly and saw that she was nibbling on a cracker; there was an IV in her arm. “Kelly, how are you feeling?”

“Fine, thank you,” quietly replied the woman.

Sheridan knelt down next to her. “Kelly, I’m sorry about the people who were killed by the Kurgans. What were you doing back there?”

“I was looking for my younger brother, Eric. We were all looking for loved ones who had gone missing.”

“What happened?”

“We were detained by some of the Chosen.”

“The Chosen?” asked Sheridan, having never heard the term before. 

“That’s what those traitors call themselves. They marched us away from the refugee camp and into the woods. There were more of us at first, but they took turns taking some of the people out, abusing and then killing them. Oh God, I thought I was going to die.” Tears welled up in her dark brown eyes.

“It’s okay, you’re safe with us. Do you have any family back in the camp?”

Kelly shook her head. “My father is back on Earth visiting relatives. My mother was shot by a Chosen fighter on the first day they arrived. She tried to stop some men who were attempting to take my brother and several other young boys away.”

“I’m sorry,” said Sheridan, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Lieutenant, the Chosen have Kurgan officers with them, but they did nothing to stop the rapes and the killing. They told us that their officers told them they could do with us as they please.”

Sheridan turned his head back toward their prisoner. Hate filled his heart. He stood.

“Look after her, Garcia.”

Cole saw the cruel look in Sheridan’s eyes and placed a hand on his arm. “Sir, I know what you’re thinking, but he’s a prisoner and under our protection. He may be a murderous thug, but we’re Marines and we follow the laws of war, even if, from time to time, we don’t agree with them.”

“What would you have me do with him, Sergeant?” asked Sheridan, instantly regretting his tone. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “We can’t drag him along with us, and we can’t leave him. If he’s found, he’ll tell them that we’re out here, and they’ll come looking for us.”

“Sir, I don’t know what we’re going to do. All I do know is that if you take matters into your own hands, your men will think that they can too, and that’s when discipline falls apart. You’ve earned the right to wear a gold bar, now exercise some leadership. The right thing is quite often the hardest thing to do.”

Sheridan knew Cole was right. He wasn’t thinking straight. “Agnar, tie our prisoner up. He’s coming with us. You’re responsible to keep our prisoner alive.”

“Yes, sir,” responded Agnar. With a smile, he tied up and gagged their captive.

“What about the woman?” queried Cole.

“She’s coming with us at least as far as the refugee camp. Perhaps there’s someone there who can look after her.”

“If not?”

Sheridan let out a deep sigh. “I guess she’ll have to come with us to the capital. I’m not leaving her alone out here with these Chosen murderers.” 

A sound as loud as a thunderclap going off above their heads suddenly filled the woods.

Everyone instinctively ducked and looked about trying to see where the noise was coming from. The night sky turned as bright as day as Kurgan rockets streamed from their launchers at the capital. Joined seconds later by hundreds of artillery pieces, a deadly barrage rained down.

The enemy’s preparations were over. The fight for the city had just begun.

Chapter 11

The Kurgan fighter dove for the surface of the small moon, trying to shake off its pursuer. Flying meters from the rocky surface, the craft headed straight for a canyon.

“Oh no you don’t,” said Tarina to herself as she brought her sleek ship in behind the fleeing Kurgan fighter. She was flying a Corsair, a newly designed fighter currently being rushed into service with the fleet’s fighter carriers. 

Both ships had expended all of their missiles on other fighters during a dogfight above Illum Prime. They were both down to guns only.

Tarina watched as her opponent dove into the deep canyon that ran like a jagged scar along the surface of the moon. She quickly followed. Dressed in a skintight survival suit, Tarina knew that if her craft were hit that the chances of her ejecting safely were almost non-existent. Even if she did, she only had six hours of oxygen before she died. 

A buzzer sounded in her helmet followed by a robotic-sounding voice. “Warning, you are flying too close to the sides of the canyon.”

“I know, I know,” replied Tarina as she skillfully flew through a narrow portion of the canyon, missing the walls by less than one meter.

Ahead, the Kurgan fighter bobbed and weaved from side to side, trying to throw off Tarina’s aim. She had to give her opponent credit, whoever was flying that craft knew how to fly.

Her ship’s targeting computer was only good for engaging targets with missiles; without them, she was reduced to using the illuminated aiming circle on her heads-up display. She depressed the trigger on her joystick. A burst of thirty millimeter depleted uranium rounds shot toward the Kurgan fighter. The shots missed, striking the wall of the canyon and tearing off chunks of rock, which hit the sides of her ship as she flew past.

A second later, her opponent shot straight up out of the canyon.

Tarina had been expecting the move and chased after him. She knew that her adversary was trying to get in behind her. However, her Corsair fighter was faster and more maneuverable than the Kurgan’s craft. 

They climbed higher and higher. Every time Tarina lined up the fighter in her sight, he would move away, it was as if he knew what she was thinking.

“Warning, you are running low on fuel,” said the voice in her helmet. “Break off the engagement and return to your ship immediately.”

“There’s no way I’m letting him go, not now,” replied Tarina as she increased her speed trying to close the distance between them.

The Kurgan dodged another burst of cannon fire.

Tarina swore. Not only was she running low on fuel, if she did not destroy the enemy craft soon, she would run out of ammo as well. Up ahead, the Kurgan fighter banked over. It had given up trying to shake off the pursuing craft; it now fled straight back toward the remnants of its battered fleet.

“I got you now,” crowed Tarina as she lined up the enemy craft for a killing shot.

A red light flashed inside the cockpit. “Warning, incoming missile!”

Tarina looked down at her console and saw the deadly projectile streaking toward her from behind. She instantly reached for a button on her console and activated her fighter’s countermeasures. Chaff ejected from the sides of her craft, trying to draw off the missile. With her teeth gritted, Tarina pushed the joystick hard over as she tried to get away from the incoming projectile.

The voice in her helmet warned, “Countermeasures have failed. Time to impact: three seconds.”

Tarina, in desperation, spun her Corsair about one hundred and eighty degrees and fired her cannon hoping to strike the missile before it hit her.

A half-second later, a bright white light flashed before her eyes. Her craft shuddered.

“Okay, open it up. Get her out of there,” said a new voice in her helmet.

The image in front of her changed from deep space to a training mock-up of a Corsair. The cockpit flipped open and two technicians reached inside to remove her helmet and undo her safety harness.

“Second Lieutenant Pheto, report to Major Jolson,” called out a voice over the training hangar’s PA system.

Tarina swore. It was the third time in as many days that she had been killed during a simulated dogfight. With her helmet under her arm, she took a deep breath and strode through the building. She gritted her teeth and avoided looking into the eyes of her fellow trainees as she made her way to Major Jolson’s office. She stopped, collected her thoughts and knocked on the open door.

“Come in,” said Jolson curtly.

Tarina stepped inside the office, came to attention, and smartly saluted her superior officer.

Jolson looked up and returned the salute.

“Miss Pheto, take a seat,” said Jolson, pointing to a chair in front of his desk.

Tarina sat down; it was then that she noticed that there was another officer in the room. Sitting off to one side was a man in his early forties. He wore a flight suit with a colonel’s silver eagle on his collar.

Jolson stood up and closed the door. “Miss Pheto, do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Tarina closed her eyes for a second. God damn it, I blew it. I’m being reassigned to a rear echelon transport unit, flashed in her mind. Clearing her throat, Tarina said, “Sir, I had the Kurgan fighter in my sights. In another second he would have been destroyed.”

“Instead, you were.”

“Sir, I don’t think it was a fair test of my abilities.”

“Oh, and why is that, Miss Pheto?”

“Sir, the people running the simulation didn’t give me a chance. My ship’s radar should have detected the other Kurgan fighter long before he fired off his missile.”

Jolson sat down on the edge of his table and looked down at Tarina. “Miss Pheto, you can’t always count on your fighter’s electronics. Sometimes they fail and all you have is your skill as a pilot to save your ass in combat.