Here goes…

Stranded

McDougal felt the ground shake, like a minor earthquake and glanced down towards where his datacomp should be, then remembered he left it sitting in his office. Shrugging, he entered the last bit of programming into the still to start making the hooch.  The ground shook again, much harder, and he cursed under his breath, hit enter on the unit to start the distillation process and headed out of the tunnel.

Resetting the hologram to mask the entrance of his secret tunnel, he started walking quickly back down the main tunnel, automatically checking the overhead runs to make sure nothing had come loose. A third ground shake, this time with crashing noises from the tunnel head, and he started running.

Reaching the tunnel head, he waved at the door sensor and heard grinding as the door started sliding slowly into the recess. It stopped after about twenty-four inches with a metallic screech, smoke pouring through the opening. McDougal squeezed through the opening, coughing at the odor of burning plastic and ozone. He stumbled over something, felt the wall and made it into his office. Grabbing his EBA[1], he donned it as he ripped the band that blanked his locator chip off his neck.

Scrabbling for his beeping datacomp, he saw it flashing red and touched the screen to display the alert.

WARNING ORDER- IMMEDIATE EVACUATION OF LOCAL HQ

DRAGOONS HAVE LANDED IN FORCE, ESTIMATED ATTACK IN OVERWHELMING FORCE IN 30 MINUTES. SECTOR COMMAND AUTHORIZATION C6B48EQ. EVAC VIA TANNHAUSER GATE AND DESTROY ON EVAC.

 SECTOR COMMAND SENDS

He cleared that alert, only to see another pop up.

ALCON-

MANDATORY EVAC MUSTER TGATE IN 15.

 HINZ

Clearing that, another one.

SSGT MCDOUGAL

 MUSTER IMMEDIATELY

 HINZ

McDougal shook his head, knowing he’d screwed the pooch. Taking the datacomp off was a write up at the least, and a court martial at worst, much less blocking his chip, which was a straight up court martial offence. Dreading what he’d see next, he cleared that message too.

ALCON-

 THREE MINUTES. BUCKLEY, CEASE SEARCH FOR MCDOUGAL. ASSUMED CAPTURED OR DEAD.

 HINZ

 MAJOR-

 I HAVE APC, WILL MAKE ONE MORE PASS, THEN DUMP APC AT THE TGATE, KEY DESTRUCT SEQUENCE AND CROSS OVER.

 SSGT BUCKLEY, SECURITY

 BUCKLEY-

 NEG. EVAC NOW KINETICS INBOUND ETA 20 SEC.

 HINZ

 KKKK

 SSGT BUCKLEY, SECURITY

Looking at the times, he realized that forty minutes had gone by since the initial evacuation order had been sent. He sagged back against his desk thinking, then turned to the armor sitting in the back corner of his office, and powered it up. As it knelt for him to get in, he took a last look around his office, then ripped the EBA off and clambered into the suit.

Running through the BIT[2] checks, he paid particular attention to the weapons status and was thankful to see that Buckley had reloaded his bead rifle magazine for him. Even though he was a maintenance tech, and could work on damn near anything, getting those last links of beads into the magazine correctly was beyond him on a good day, least of all under stress.

The suit came up all greens on the HUD[3], he felt the click in his mind as the suit connected to him and the datacomp via the pads in his palm. Using the HUD optics, McDougal blinked the comms over to the TAC channel, hoping to hear someone. After a few seconds of static, he said, “McDougal on TAC. Anybody copy?”

Static was the only response. Blinking the comms selector over to ALL, he tried again with the same results. Then he saw one red icon in the corner of the display, he wasn’t accessing the network. Cussing softly, he toggled a reset, then stepped ponderously out of his office, careful to duck to clear the doorway. Nothing but smoke was visible on the HUD, so he flipped the visor to InfraRed, and stared as the details of the destruction became apparent. It looked like the entire building had collapsed into what was left of the basement. About twenty feet to his left, a shaft of light penetrated the smoke.

Shifting rubble and pieces of debris, he made his way to the hole and looked up. Peering over and around beams, he could see what appeared to be an ambient difference in light and temperature. Toggling through his menu, McDougal found the Ferrets[4]  and saw that he had thirty on board. Arming his targeting laser, he marked the opening above with the targeting carat, tagged a Ferret to covert investigation and felt an external auxiliary hatch on the armored arm pop open, then close a second later.

The Ferret, about the size of a one inch cube, unfolded from its stored position, flew to the wall, and climbed upwards on its articulated arms. McDougal followed it with IR until it disappeared, then waited until his HUD pinged. Still no network, but at short ranges like this, he could get a direct video and audio feed from the Ferret. Toggling the feed on, he slumped as he saw a hole where Building Two should be.

Commanding the Ferret to scan and search, he watched grimly as the Ferret moved further from the hole then panned from left to right, Buildings Three and Four were gone, but Building Six still stood, and the TGate was still active! It was blocked by an APC sitting on its skirts, and something else.

Putting his carat on the object he toggled the zoom function, and saw a red helmet protruding beyond the back of the APC[5]. Fist clenched in rage, he knew Joe Buckley hadn’t made it. He flashed back to a conversation he and Buckley had a week earlier-

      “Joe, how’d you end up on this ass end of nowhere deal?”

      “Ah, payback for my last fuck up. It was either this or a bust back to sergeant. The colonel took pity on me, since we have a history.”

      “A history?”

      “Yeah, I don’t turn his ass in, he covers for me. But I’ve got a bad feeling about this det. I always said I wanted to die in bed at a hundred and thirty with two thirty year olds, but this place… This is your first det as the senior maintenance guy isn’t it?”

      “Yep, first one where I’m running the show. After I made senior sergeant, I went back for school then I did the Orincon det as number two, the jump to Randall as the number two, and passed the tests and bumped up to number one for this one.”

      “You guys don’t get out much do ya?”

      “Nah, our job is keeping the home fires burning, and fixing all the shit y’all break. Well, me and Herbert and six Mechs are doin’ the fixing.”

      “What do y’all use the Mechs for?”

      “They’re kinda like automated maintenance units, but they can do just about anything we need from digging the tunnels, to transferring weapons, to repairs inside the containment. They’re autonomous units, once we give them a task. They’re just not real fast, and sometimes we have to go in with them to ensure the programming is correct.

      “That means you’ve got access everywhere and to everything, right?”

      “Umm, yeah, why?”

      “If I go down, there’s some shit in my locker that needs to ‘disappear’, if you know what I mean.”

      “Ah, you’re just being paranoid, Joe. Ain’t gonna happen.”

      “Just in case, okay… Just disappear that shit.”

      “Okay.”

Based on the damage to the barracks, McDougal guessed that Joe’s locker wasn’t an issue anymore. Setting the Ferret back in scan mode, he saw Building Six was still up, which was why there was power to the portable one hundred foot diameter Tennhauser stargate. Panning the Ferret back he lased the TGate, 334 feet. Just 334 feet from being able to get off this damn rock alive!

The Ferret detected a grinding noise and pivoted toward it, the video blanked momentarily as it encountered a fallen beam then irised as the video slewed and the Ferret hopped to clear the beam. A clunky looking APC, obviously not one of the Patrol’s, pulled into view between the wreckage of Buildings Two and Four and settled on its skirts.

A squad of Dragoons in armor dismounted, started randomly firing into the wreckage, and toward any noise or electronic sources. McDougal reviewed what he knew about them, as he dumped the Ferret into full covert mode and subconsciously crouched down. ‘Goons’– Big, ugly, air breathers six-seven feet tall, two-fifty, three hundred pounds of pissed off dragon. Bipedal, opposable thumbs, three fingered clawed forelegs, three toed clawed feet. Vestigial tails, vestigial wings. Nasty frikken fangs. Carnivorous, eat prisoners and dead. Patriarchal society, ruled by warriors. Expansionist slave culture, kits molt and mature at two years old, males start training as warriors at three years. Can live to a four hundred years of age. Damn! We don’t make it past one twenty most of the time!

McDougal relaxed the armor to a sitting position and took stock. Looks like I’m the only motherhumper left. The TGate is still up, but I can’t get there… Wait, I’ve got the tunnel. Ten feet a day, so eleven days, means a hundred and ten feet.

      So three hundred thirty-four feet to the TGate, or… punching the datacomp, he pulled up the grid of the camp layout. One hundred eighty-one feet from the end of the maintenance tunnel to the center of Building Six, no wait, that’s the plant. Expanding the grid, he focused on Building Six, If I come up there… Hooking the carat on that point in the grid with a stop point of the ferrocrete floor, he punched it to the digger Mech One, currently scraping at the end of the current ten by ten tunnel, reduced the size of the tunnel to eight feet by five feet and commanded the Mech to quiet mode to reduce the chance that the Goons would pick up the disturbance caused by the tunneling. The Mech completed its calculations and a new countdown timer popped into the upper corner of the HUD, starting at 70:30:00 and rolling down.

He called up the Mech menu, three of the six were supposedly still operational, but he only had comms with Mechs One and Four. He commanded Mech Four back to the tunnel entry and while it trundled back down the tunnel, he hit the Ferret’s link for a burst download, and reviewed the data. Dismayed, he saw two more of their APCs were now in the camp, but the Goons were just milling about and shooting into the wreckage.

      Wonder if I can get a message through the TGate… Maybe a Ferret. Screw it, it’s worth a try! Calling the Ferret menu up, he programmed it for an airborne passive search, hooked the first Ferret and the TGate on the camp grid, and extended the distance another twenty feet on the bearing. If I’m right, this might get one through without it losing its tiny ass mind. He tagged it and felt an external auxiliary hatch slam open, then close a second later.

Mech Four pinged his HUD saying it was at the tunnel entry and McDougal eased over to the door.  Using the power of the armor, he managed to move the door another two feet, crouched down, sidled sideways through the opening, and looked at the tunnel wall above the door. Putting his targeting carat over the top of the door, he programmed the Mech to laser bore a two-inch hole through the wall.

Ten minutes later, a smoking hole extended through into the basement. McDougal programmed another Ferret as a relay, and targeted it on the cooling hole, then tagged it. Turning to the door itself, he very gently pushed the emergency close panic button with one armored ‘finger’. He could hear screeching and grinding and used the armored gauntlet to help the door close. Suddenly it came free and slammed home with a gong-like sound that made him cringe.

Commanding the Mech again, he directed it to weld the door in place. As soon as he’d done that, he realized his emergency rations were on the other side of the door and he laughed at himself, Starve or get killed and eaten. What a frikken choice! You are one stupid SOB!  Checking the feed from his Ferrets through the new relay, he was thankful to note that none of the Goons had apparently heard the noise of the door crashing closed.

Running an environmental scan, his armor determined the air was safe to breathe, so McDougal tromped down to the end of the tunnel and commanded the unit to kneel. As the seals broke, he sniffed and was relieved to smell only traces of smoke. Climbing out of the armor with a groan, he pulled the datacomp free and jogged back up the tunnel to the maintenance tunnel.

He walked quickly through the maze of benches and spare and replacement parts to the fresher, and almost collapsed on the seat as his body started shivering. He put his head in his hands, and sighed, What the hell am I doing? I’ll never get off here. And if I do, I’m a dead man. Or I’ll at least be thrown under the damn prison. Shit… God damn hooch… Standing up, he stripped off his boots, skin suit and datacomp, and set the fresher on relax mode.

Fifteen minutes later, he stepped into his boots feeling much better and wearing a clean skin suit. He punched the datacomp and located a cache of emergency rations in the supply tunnel across the main tunnel. That made him remember he had other digger Mechs, and he commanded a second digger to the new tunnel, programming it to a cleanup mode, allowing the first Mech to only perform the dig function. To his delight the counter dropped by almost ten hours, to 60:03:10 and counting.

He pulled an emergency ration out of the pack, cracked the seal and juggled it as he ran back across to the maintenance tunnel with it. Standing at the maintenance bench, he dutifully ate the entire ration, wondering if the dragons would have better rations than this crap. He drank the attached liquid nutritional pouch, grimacing at foul taste, but remembering that it was supposedly filled with ‘healthy’ nanite organisms. Personally, I think we’re just drinking nanite shit, I think they all died before they were ever put in this damn solution!

[1] Emergency Breathing Apparatus

[2] Built In Test

[3] Heads Up Display

[4] Functional External Robotic Retrieval and Exploration Technology

[5] Armored Personnel Carrier