They took off and I turned to Richards, my right-hand man. “Head right but don’t start shooting until I give you cover fire. Find out what the hell just dropped in on us.”
“Yes, sir.”
Richards took off in a low crouching run and I lifted my head above the galley railing to try to figure out what was going on.
“Report. Everybody. Talk to me. What the hell is going on?” I checked my weapons as my team checked in. An unauthorized transport had occurred.
“Seth?”
My brother’s voice came through the clear. “Some big motherfucker just dropped in on top of us without warning. I think he’s ours, but it set off the Hive and they’ve got six more scouts down here. I’ve got three men down at three o’clock.”
I peeked over the railing, beyond furious that the coalition had transported someone in without warning us. My brother was right, he was huge. And completely insane. As I watched, he pulled the head off the Hive scout closest to him with his bare hands, completely ignoring an ion blast from one of the smaller Hive weapons.
Holy shit. I’d never seen anything like that before.
The giant’s bellow echoed like a cannon blast in the small space and I winced.
“At least he appears to be on our side.” Was that sarcastic voice really mine? I’d just watched a giant alien rip off another alien’s head with his bare hands, and I was cracking jokes? My dad would be so damn proud.
“Roger that.” Seth sounded like he was amused as well. “He’s an Atlan.”
Wow. I’d heard of them, but never seen one in action. They were generally ground troops, huge, strong, fast, and brutally efficient killers. With Gigantor on our side, it was time to switch tactics. “Recon 7, shoot to kill, but try not to hit the giant. Let’s finish this.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ion blaster fire was so thick I could barely see what was happening as I rose from my hidden position and opened fire. I took out two scouts, the giant took out three more, and the rest of our teams took out the remaining few. We all wore our tactical gear—lightweight, basic black and brown armor that would shield a low-level ion blast. It wasn’t pretty, but I thought of it as space camo. Our helmets filtered the air and provided constant levels of oxygen and pressure optimized to our species. Our ion pistols were lightweight and computer assisted, but metallic armor could deflect a blast. Strapped to our thighs were two things we never left without: a blade—for close combat and things that got up close and personal—and a very human injector filled with a lethal dose of poison.
The injector was a personal choice offered to all soldiers who volunteered from Earth. The suicide injection was an option both Seth and I carried gladly. I’d seen what happened to soldiers who were taken by the Hive, and death was preferable to losing myself in their Hive mind, turned into something less than human. I didn’t know if other worlds offered their warriors that out, nor did I care. No one wanted to be taken by the Hive alive. I’d been told the injector was filled with the most deadly poison known to the coalition. There was no antidote, and death was certain within a few seconds.
Anything was better than ending up one of those silver-eyed automatons. One thing we’d learned quickly enough was that the Hive didn’t have any sense of honor. They rarely killed, preferring to take prisoners to their integration centers where they would implant Hive technology into the biologicals until they were no longer in control of their own bodies. They became one with the Hive. A drone. For all intents and purposes, a walking computer that followed orders from the Hive mind.
The Hive were merciless fighters and we had to focus on that. Do our jobs—remove the Hive from this freighter and get the hell out, transported back to base, a hot dinner, and sleep before another mission. Live to fight another day. That was the goal.
Not only did I have to keep my men alive, but my brother, too.
The sounds of ion blasts died down, the bright flares of weapon fire fading away. Fortunately for us, the freighter was full of supplies as rows upon rows of crates filled the cavernous cargo area, affording us a good deal of protection. Unfortunately, this meant the Hive had cover as well.
We’d meant to take them by surprise, corral the Hive into the center, forcing them into a smaller and smaller space, like an anaconda squeezing the life out of its prey. But the Atlan warrior had ruined our plans, crashed our party, and not in a good way. Fuming, I took stock. I had two men down, but the Hive appeared to be routed.
“Recon 7, report.”
I listened to my men as they checked in.
“Six is clear.”
“Three is clear. Two men down.”
I sighed, but let it go. Shit happened. Soldiers died. I’d think about it later, when I was writing letters to their families and crying my eyes out. Later. “Richards?”
“Nine is clear.”
I waited, expecting to hear from Seth, who was at the twelve o’clock position on the lower deck.
“Recon 4?”
I heard Seth’s voice, loud and clear. “You better get down here.”
I ordered my men to remain on the high ground and ran down the ramp to my brother. It wasn’t just the Hive that had my eyes widening as I approached.