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

Sheridan stood back, quietly observing the soldiers. They were a mix of people from all over the planet. Slavic accents mixed with North American, English, German, and Chinese. Of the thirty Marines, four were women. They looked as equally tough and capable as their male counterparts did. The one constant was their age. He doubted that there was anyone over nineteen years old. If they were green and inexperienced, they didn’t show it. If anything, he thought they were acting a bit too overconfident.

Over the next three days, Sheridan attended all of the training sessions put on by Staff Sergeant Cole. He gradually got a better understanding of the man and his experiences. While he was reticent to talk about his personal life, Cole told him that he had been a Marine fresh out of boot camp when rebels on Setius-5 tried to take power in a violent coup. For ten months, Cole and his fellow Marines were engaged in a deadly counterinsurgency campaign to defeat the rebel forces. When it was over, one thousand Marines and ten times as many civilians had lost their lives.

After a late supper, Sheridan turned in for the night. He was growing anxious to get off the ship and get on with his job. His bitterness at not being posted to the First Div had somewhat faded. Still, in the back of his mind, he was hesitant to believe everything that Cole told him about his time with the division. Before turning off his bedside light, Sheridan opened up his tablet and reviewed the latest fleet intelligence report on the Kurgan Empire.

The Kurgans are a race of highly intelligent and aggressive reptiles. Their technology is on par with Earth’s. Their society and culture are as old as the human race. They are highly religious and believe that spreading the word of their Lord is the purpose for which they were created. Fanatical, Kurgans have never allowed themselves to be captured, preferring death to the dishonor of being a prisoner. The only prisoners ever taken were those incapacitated in combat and unable to commit suicide.

Their society is ruled by a hereditary ruler on their home world. Like the ancient Roman Empire, after they defeat an enemy, they bring them into the Empire and give them citizenship. Although Kurgans make up more than ninety percent of the Empire’s population, they are also reputed to have large insect-like creatures as members of their far-flung territory.

Sheridan studied a picture of their adversary. It was a 3D image of a Kurgan warrior. He stood two and a half meters tall with reddish-brown leathery skin. He had a short snout and golden yellow eyes. His body was covered with armor from the bottom of his feet all the way up to his neck. 

Although no one had seen a Kurgan in nearly a century, fleet assessed that their military and social structure had not changed much, and if anything, they had become more fervent in their religious beliefs. 

Fatigue soon took hold of Sheridan. He turned off his light and closed down the briefing. An image of Tarina smiling filled the screen. He smiled back. Vowing to never listen to his mother ever again, Sheridan hoped that he and Tarina would someday cross paths and that he could make up for his past behavior. He knew the chances of them seeing one another in the vast reaches of space were slim. However, slim was better than nothing, he told himself before turning off his computer and closing his eyes for what he expected to be his last good night’s sleep in a long time.

Chapter 4

Sheridan shot up wide-awake. His heart was racing away in his chest. Sweat covered his body, soaking his sheets. He looked about and saw that he was in his darkened room on board the Churchill.

He got out of bed, flipped on a light, walked over to the sink, and turned on the water. Sheridan waited until the water was good and cold before splashing some on his face. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm his wildly beating heart. 

It was always the same nightmare. He was on a planet he didn’t recognize, lying trapped and helpless when a darkened shape appeared out of the fog. It was a Kurgan Warrior. Without making a sound, it walked toward him. Sheridan tried to pull his trapped legs free, but it was no good, he was going nowhere. His weapon lay just out of reach. The Kurgan stopped and looked down at him. It seemed to be studying him. Instead of finishing him off with its assault rifle, the warrior knelt down, grabbed Sheridan and twisted his head up. Baring its razor sharp teeth, the Kurgan brought its mouth down on his face. Blood dripped down Sheridan’s face as he was eaten alive.

He had never read of Kurgans eating their prisoners, but it was the same horrible dream he had been having since he was a child. Shaking his head to clear the troubling images from his mind, Sheridan looked back at his bed. He knew he would never get back to sleep, not now. He checked his watch and saw that it was nearing three in the morning. He threw on his fatigues and decided to go for a run through the ship’s corridors.

There was an unexpected knock on his door.

“Sir, sir, are you awake in there?” asked Cole

Sheridan told him to enter.

“Sir, did I wake you up?” queried Cole.

“No, I was already awake. I was just about to go for a run,” answered Sheridan, telling a half-truth.

“Sir, the captain called. She wants us up on the bridge right away.”

Sheridan instantly grew curious. “Did she say why?”

“No, and I didn’t ask. The tone of her voice told me it was important.”

A minute later, they walked onto the bridge and were met by Captain Lefol, who took them over to the communications console. “Gentlemen, listen,” she said as she opened up a comms channel. A twenty-year veteran with the fleet, Lefol had reddish-blonde hair and light blue eyes. She was short and lean, but projected a confident air about her. Anyone who met her instantly could tell that she knew her business.

An automated voice came over the speaker. “This is the freighter California, we have struck a mine and have suffered heavy losses; I say again, we have struck a mine and are in need of assistance. Please come at once.”

“Ma’am, is that all you’ve received?” asked Cole.

“Yes, it repeats itself every ten seconds,” explained Lefol, her accent French. “We have tried to reach the California on all the usual channels. Nothing! Not a single word in reply. This can only mean that they are unable to respond for whatever reason, or they are being jammed by the enemy.”

Sheridan asked, “Ma’am, shouldn’t she have been in a convoy? Where are the other ships?”

“That’s a good question. According to my records, the vessel was part of a small convoy led by the frigate Orion.”

Cole asked, “Ma’am, do you know what the California was transporting?”

“Yes, air-defense batteries for Illum Prime,” she replied gravely.

“Jesus,” muttered Cole.

Lefol said, “I think it is safe to assume the convoy was attacked and probably destroyed. We should also assume that our forces on Illum Prime are also under attack, perhaps even overrun by the enemy.”

“But we’re still light years from the Disputed Zone,” declared Sheridan.

“It must have been part of a coordinated series of deep strikes designed to eliminate the reinforcements and logistics needed to defend the border,” explained Lefol. “It’s a smart move and one that we would have done if we had struck first.”

“Ma’am, what do you intend to do?” asked Sheridan.

“We’re not a combat vessel. We wouldn’t last five minutes against a Kurgan destroyer if we bumped into one. First, I want to see if there are any survivors on board the California. After that, we are going to jump behind one of Illum Prime’s moons and see what is happening. If the Kurgans are there, we’ll jump back to the nearest colony and warn them that the Kurgans are already this deep into our space.”

“Ma’am, if we’re not needed anymore, Mister Sheridan and I will get our Marines prepped and ready for battle,” said Cole.

“That would be prudent,” responded Lefol. “I’ll let you know the instant we rendezvous with the California.”

“Ma’am,” said Sheridan and Cole in unison. 

They left the bridge and walked back to the cramped quarters where the young Marines were sleeping. 

Sheridan left Cole to roust up the soldiers while he went back to his room to grab his gear. The instant the door slid closed behind him, Sheridan fought off a wave of nausea in his stomach. He had trained for years to lead men into combat; now faced with the prospect of people fighting and dying under his command, his mind was filled with doubt. He was an untried leader about to take a platoon of inexperienced Marines with only one NCO into battle. He dug into his rucksack until he found his helmet, ballistic glasses, gloves, tactical vest, and thin bags of liquid body armor. He placed the lightweight armor into pouches on his trousers and shirt to protect him from small arms fire and blast fragments. Made from a shear-thickening liquid, the armor remained a liquid until struck, at which time in less than a millisecond it hardened, protecting the person from grievous bodily harm.

Before he left his room, Sheridan loaded a magazine into his pistol and slipped it into the holster on his vest. Not sure what lay ahead, he grabbed four extra twenty-round magazines, just to be safe. With his helmet under his arm, he stepped out into the hallway. He could hear the sound of Cole’s deep voice yelling at the young Marines to get dressed.

The instant Sheridan stepped into the hangar Cole walked over to Sheridan and handed him an M5 rifle and ten mags. “Sir, I broke into one of the supply boxes and stole us a couple of rifles,” explained Cole. “I think we’re gonna need these before the day is out.”

Sheridan looked down at the weapon in his hand. “Yeah, you may be right.”

“Sir, if Captain Lefol is right, and I bet she is, then Illum Prime is gone. We’ll be lucky if we survive the next few hours to warn the other colonies that they are in danger.”

Sheridan didn’t reply. He stood there and watched Cole as he turned on a dime and cursed up a storm at some of the Marines who weren’t moving fast enough for his liking. It all seemed to be happening in a blur.

The ship’s jump engine switched off. In the blink of an eye, the ship dropped out of faster than light travel and came to an almost dead stop five hundred meters from the California. It was obvious that the freighter had been hit. Jagged holes covered the side of the vessel where enemy missiles had penetrated the hull. Debris and bodies littered the space around the stricken vessel. Worse than that, the remainder of the convoy, including the frigate assigned to defend it, had also been destroyed. Less than a minute later, Lefol hailed Sheridan and Cole to meet her in the ship’s briefing room.

Sheridan and Cole in full fighting order walked into the briefing room. On the