Galactic Ops

“Captain Krighter to the bridge,” the voice coolly sounded.
Usually the watch officer would “request” the captain to the bridge. A non-cordial order meant the matter would be urgent.
“Acknowledged, on my way,” he replied.
John swept his finger across the DATEX and it switched off. The communiqué would have to wait. He quickly zipped his one-piece battle suit, slapped the DATEX onto his sleeve, and strapped his pistol to his hip. As he headed out of the room, the air-tight hatch, sensing his approach, automatically slid open. He worked his way up the winding, narrow corridors and a maze of latter-wells to the ship’s bridge. Airlocks slid open and closed as he passed between sections.
The Yorktown was a six hundred twenty foot assault cruiser named for an obscure little battle in the Americas fought nearly two millennia ago. Now, the battle was only remembered by a handful of faithful men, desperately clinging to the idea of the ancient Republic. The Yorktown was designed to fight independently in ship-to-ship or ship-to-ground engagements from near orbit. She was well armored and boasted a variety of weaponry, a dozen fighters, and a heavily armed Marine company reinforced with platoon of four hover tanks. The ship was big enough, but every inch was crammed full of weapons, supplies, and men. Every ounce of the Yorktown was built for one purpose: war.

...

The sound of Marines strapping into the armored rigs echoed across the bay and created an air of purpose. As each Marine stepped into his armor, it tightened around him and powered on with a hum. A quick verbal command to the DATEX engaged a holographic heads-up display. The rigs were heavy, but once powered up they moved more easily. Gunny Neville worked a console by the wall to adjust the artificial gravity in the room. He slowly backed it off to one-tenth Earth gravity, enabling the Marines to move around easier in their suits. One by one, the Marines filed into the jump tubes.
Each tube was wide enough for one assault suit, with windows toward the bay and a transparent shield for a floor that would open during launch. Two rows of ten tubes each lined either side of the jump bay. One Marine would load into each tube while another waited in position behind him.
While the Marines suited up, Rob filled in the details for his squad leaders. When he finished, they broke from their huddle and joined their men in the tubes. On the bridge, Commander Barrick watched the display with anticipation, his lips moving slightly as he intently counted the seconds in his head, “Battle stations.”
The OPSO acknowledged the order, “Battle stations aye. All sections report when REDCON one.” REDCON one was Readiness Condition one, meaning they were prepared to fight. “Load torpedoes and standby.”
The ship’s intercom blared to life, “Battle stations, battle stations, all hands man your battle stations! This is not a drill!”

...

They waited tensely in the dark watching the asteroid below for signs of life. The minutes passed slowly as they waited and strained to see the assault force. Finally, a quick flash of light from Rob signaled that the assault force was in position. Everything was ready. There was still no movement detected on the ship. John readied his transmitter for high power then counted in the air with his fingers for the other Marines to see; five… four… three… two… one. In unison, they jumped silently into the dark, dropping quickly toward the asteroid below. They dropped head first, holding their thrusters till last moment before rotating to avoid detection. If they over shot they could miss the asteroid entirely and lose the element of surprise, it had to be exact.
The ship grew larger in front of them, its dim light enhanced by their weapon display. They were coming in quick, hands poised on the controls, anxious to fire breaking thrusters. Closer, closer they fell. John timed the attack in his head. Wait… wait… NOW!
“FIRE!” he shouted over the net, then mashed on his breaking thruster.
WHAM! He hit the deck hard, the shock ringing through his body and echoing in his head. A half second later a flash of green light burst across the asteroid skyline as the AG-6 found its target on top of the frigate. The shield generator, protruding slightly from the hull, flashed bright orange as it overloaded and the shields sparked down. A second shot across open space hit the target again ensuring the generator was offline. The gunner then shifted his fire and disabled the main power coupling with another burst; he would take no chances. The frigate was to be disabled thoroughly and quickly. To reduce permanent damage he fired energy only, no mass. Bullets or not, at that range the AG-6 had devastating effects, melting circuits and relays all over the ship.

...

The situation was worsening, fast. John had to get in there. He charged through the door. The noise was intense. Rounds splintered through the air in every direction. He dove for cover behind a large container, next to two other Marines. He looked at his display and surveyed the scene. His Marines had fought their way into the room, slaughtering dozens of mercs in the assault; but now they were pinned down.
The bay was large, nearly a hundred meters across, and running the entire width of the ship. It was the main cargo hold traversing all three decks; a large open cavern for cargo and equipment of any sort. Behind it was the armory and the engine room, the end of the line. The enemy had fought briefly in the berthing area, running across the bay and up to the armory above. There they took up positions on the catwalks and open portholes on the opposite side of the bay to make a last stand. John guessed they had no more than a hundred men left, but they held the high ground and the armory, firing on the Marines below with everything they had. The Marines took cover behind stacks of cargo engaging where they could. The bay was running on emergency power, which provided dim lighting and artificial gravity. He could see that the Marines were pinned down from both ends of the catwalk, above and to the front.
John raced through the options in his head. They couldn’t hold this position, the enemy was too well entrenched. He tapped his DATEX , “2-Papa this is Bravo-6, over.”
Bennett responded, shouting over the noise instead of transmitting. He was only a few feet away, but John had not seen him. “Sir, right here!” He waved to show his position.
John dove across the bay and took cover behind the merc recon vehicle that Bennett had been using for cover. He spoke quickly, “I don’t think we can hold this position.”
“I agree sir, any suggestions?”
BOOM! KA-BOOM! Two energy bolts slammed into a stack of crates sending debris careening through the air. Two Marines were knocked into the back wall a short distance away. Neither one moved.
“Pull back to the berthing area and regroup. I’ll get these two,” he said, motioning to the two fallen Marines.
Bennett nodded and went into action.
“COVERING FIRE!” he roared above the noise.