Planet Arkadia Storyline/English/3.1 Against the Tide

3.1 Against the Tide

Date: 8 FEB 3008 Time: 2208hrs Location: Celeste Harbour Toán Harvir walked out of one of the apartments, which had been hastily converted into a hospital ward, ready to return to the IFN Headquarters. He liked to check on the wounded whenever he had time to make sure their needs were being met. Since it had been assembled so quickly, the Fleet had not been equipped to quickly construct a global network on Arkadia, which could have been used to revive those who were killed. Despite the best efforts of the Fleet’s scientists, a network had not been established before the Oratan had attacked, which meant that every troop Harvir lost was gone forever. Ever aware of his responsibilities, he had considered risking his drop ships on another trip to evacuate the wounded back to the Fleet in orbit. He reluctantly discarded the idea since some casualties were in such a serious condition that they could not be moved and the Fleet was already overstretched. Out of habit he cast his eye over at the teleporter, noticing the tired figures of his sentries hunched over in the darkness. Then the teleporter activated and a small group of shapes appeared in the centre of the light. The sentries straightened briefly then slumped again. More wounded, Harvir thought, judging by the sentries’ reactions. Blinking against the glare emitted by the teleporter, he wondered how many more troops had been injured. As the light began to dim, he noticed that the forms inside seemed odd, standing strangely even though they didn’t appear to be injured. Their posture was wrong and they looked too bulky. He took a step forward, then suddenly understood what he was seeing. ‘Oratan in the city! Stand to! Oratan in the city!’ Harvir bellowed. He slapped his personal communicator, opening a channel to the startled Watchkeeper in the Operations Room. ‘Sound the alarm! Oratan in the city.’ His personal escort reacted instantly, kneeling and firing into the Oratan who were attempting to run deeper into the city. The fatigued sentries finally reacted, firing their own lasers at the creatures. The Oratan continued to arrive through the teleporter, instantly returning fire against Harvir’s troops. Suddenly a round slammed through Harvir’s armour into his side and he doubled over, feeling like he’d been hit by a hammer. Despite the pain he heard the dull thud as the Corporal to his right collapsed, his head shattered by another shot. Harvir snatched up the fallen Corporal’s Herman LAW 202 and dove for cover. The alarm finally began to shriek, alerting the rest of his troops throughout the city that they were under attack. He could feel a burning sensation in his side, as blood seeped down his leg. He knew that he was not in good shape, but there was no time to get treatment. More and more Oratan appeared through the teleporter until there were too many for his troops to contain. How many had already slipped past the sentries to spread through the city? There was nothing he could do to stop them without turning off the teleporter network, which was not a course of action he wanted to consider. Designed for rapid deployment, the teleporters also carried the entire communication network; a quick and easy solution until a global network could be installed. For the thousandth time he cursed that the Fleet was unable to provide an effective bombardment from orbit to support any ground engagements. Their kinetic weapons were only useful for stationary targets because it took so long for the projectile to reach the ground from orbit and even slight atmospheric effects could cause disastrous deviations in their trajectory. If the Fleet used them, they would be just as likely to destroy their own fortifications as do any damage to the Oratan surrounding them. The ship’s high energy laser cannons had been firing constantly since the Oratan first attacked, but they were designed to shoot a thin beam of energy through another ship’s hull, so they could do little more than disintegrate one or two Oratan at a time. The laser cannons also took several minutes to recharge between each shot. Within Celeste Harbour the Fleet’s sensors would struggle to distinguish humans from Oratan, so not even that limited orbital firepower was an option. There were no good options left. He sighted down his weapon, feeling as if time was moving strangely around him. The loss of blood was turning the battle into a vivid nightmarish experience from which he could not awaken. One moment the world would be moving in slow motion and he had time to take in every detail of the enemy he was aiming at, then suddenly the attackers seemed to be moving with unbelievable speed. Unbidden memories mixed with the present as he was swamped by visions of similar situations in his life long ago. The Lieutenant in charge of Harvir’s platoon had died in the initial attack, killed by a lucky shot from their attackers. Now his Sergeant had just died, a hole blown through his chest. The fighting had been desperate, but now Harvir, even as young as he was, could tell his squad was on the verge of breaking after seeing their leaders killed. A steely determination had suffused him. He had not fought his way out of the slums, and broken free of the gang wars that claimed many young men his age, just to die trapped in a hole. He had taken command, started issuing orders and encouragement; exhorting the squad to keep fighting, to stay alive. The troops had responded to his voice. Reassured by his confidence, the remnants of his platoon had fought with renewed vigour. The attackers had fallen back in confusion as their prey refused to give in and die. Harvir raised his rifle and aimed at an Oratan that had just charged out of the teleporter. It was rushing towards a civilian who had blindly joined the fight, hoping to help. The man was wildly firing the Herman ASI 10 he’d been issued, but his panicked shots were flying wide. Harvir fired and the Oratan collapsed at the man’s feet. How many more civilians were still stranded out there on the continent, hoping to sneak past the Oratan to access a teleporter? How many wounded at the remaining Firebases needed to evacuate to Celeste Harbour? His lips tightened as he considered abandoning his people to their fate. It was just not something he could do. He remembered the quick, precise thrust of his knife that had neutralised the sentry before the alarm could be raised. The boarding party had crept through the crippled transport ship, searching for survivors. Earlier, Harvir had received orders to abandon the system, leaving the crippled ship and her crew behind. Newly promoted to Commander and given his first command, Harvir was unable to leave the hundreds of men and women to die aboard the wrecked ship. He’d ordered his own warship to dock with its ailing brethren and rescue the crew, but one of the enemy vessels had reached the stricken ship first. He had recklessly led his troops in a running battle aboard the wreck. The rescue had been successful, but as his ship had disconnected it had taken huge damage from the nearby enemy ship, including a direct hit to the wormhole drive. His ship had been scuttled, but not before he’d managed to rendezvous and transfer both crews to other ships in the fleet. He had known he would face the ire of his superiors over his insubordination, but it was a decision he’d been willing to make to give him the chance to save hundreds of lives. The Oratan were forcing their way through the teleporter in a never ending stream, their companions already in the city pinning Harvir’s troops in place. The city’s outer defences were strong; the bridges that formed the entrances into the city were natural choke points that could hold off almost any attack indefinitely. But that was small comfort when the Oratan were already rampaging throughout the city. He was out of options. He activated his communicator. ‘Captain Chiharo. Code Blue. I repeat, Code Blue. I’m shutting down the network.’ Harvir connected back to the Operations Room, to the now attentive Watchkeeper. Wracked with pain, with blood still leaking from his side he closed his eyes briefly and took a breath. May the lost souls forgive me, he thought before he gave the order. ‘Shut down the network, by my order. Do it now.’ As he watched the light of the teleporter wink out, a sudden blow to the side of his head knocked him to the ground. He fell, the wound in his side sending stabbing tendrils of pain throughout his entire body. He managed to roll over just enough to see the looming shadow of an Oratan as it stood over him, weapon pointed at his head. He glared into the barrel, struggling to reach the pistol at his waist. The Oratan’s finger tensed on the weapon’s trigger but was abruptly knocked sideways in a spray of blood. The weapon discharged above Harvir’s head with a deafening roar and he felt a fiery sensation across his face. It took him a while to realise that he was still alive, his thoughts thick and sluggish. He gently felt his blood covered side. He tried to get up but the effort left him dizzy and he collapsed back onto the ground, pain blinding him to everything else. Rough hands grabbed him and he briefly opened his eyes, finding himself looking into an indistinct human face shadowed with worry, before he drifted back into unconsciousness.