This is a continuation of "Star-Crossed Lovers" and it picks up about a year later. If you have not read the previous chapter, I recommend you check it out. As a word of warning, there's a lot of story in this section, so if you're here just for the sex, you might want to find another story. Enjoy!
*****************
"Incoming!"
Everyone dove for cover as the call came over the platoon's channel. The shell missed, but not by much.
"Get some fire on that battery!" Lieutenant Burke shouted to anyone who was listening.
Combat in a vacuum is a strange thing compared to combat in atmosphere. Contrary to what is portrayed in the holos, there is no sound. Just flashes of light and blips on radar displays. It's very surreal. Death comes out of nowhere.
Burke saw Ski spraying the oncoming Federation troopers with his rail gun. Juggs was pumping micro-missiles out of her shoulder-mounted launchers as fast as the auto-loader would feed them. The barrel of Bunny's particle beam cannon glowed white-hot.
Wonder Boy was down, his severed left arm lying on the ground next to him. Zipper stood over the still form, forearm blasters blazing, while Crispy desperately patched the hole in the chestplate of Wonder Boy's armoured suit before he died of decompression. Traylor's headless body lay in one of the small moon's many craters along with the five rescued hostages who huddled together in their vacuum suits.
The rest of the platoon had fanned out and was trying to fend off their pursuers.
Burke switched channels, "Control, this is Katana Six. Where the hell is that retrieval boat?"
"Katana, Control. Retrieval boat inbound. ETA thirty seconds."
On his HUD, a new channel suddenly opened and a face he hadn't expected to see appeared. Lieutenant Burke's jaw dropped. All of his fears instantly evaporated, and he knew at that moment everything was going to be fine.
"Katana Six, this is Archangel. Find some cover. LZ Bravo is about to get hot."
An instant later, four drones passed overhead, flechette rounds pouring out of their electromagnetic rail cannons and into the Federation troops. On his radar, Burke saw two more drones coming in, just ahead of the retrieval boat. They peeled away, leaving two smaller blips heading his way.
"Everybody, down!" he said over the main channel and then ducked.
The ground around him shook as the pressure bombs exploded. A wave of shrapnel and dirt flew over his head. He looked up and saw that their pursuers were having second thoughts about coming any closer.
"Thank you, Archangel," Burke said with a smile that he had
never
shown on a battlefield. She blew him a kiss and then the screen closed. He switched back to his platoon's channel. "SOLARs, we . . . are . . . LEA-ving."
The transport flared right behind him, gun pods blazing. Then it gracefully set down. Marines poured out of the side hatches, sending the remaining Federation troops into a frantic retreat. Archangel's drone fighters strafed those who weren't smart enough to turn tail.
Burke fired a short burst of grenades towards the enemy as the fifteen surviving SOLARs and five former hostages boarded the boat, the able-bodied carrying the wounded and the dead.
Looking around, he spotted a Marine gunny waving her men back into the boat. "Got everyone, sir?"
"All present and accounted for," he replied as the last of the Marines boarded. Right on the gunny's heels, Burke stepped into the open hatch, pounded twice on the bulkhead and the pilot took off before the door closed.
While waiting for the compartment to pressurise, he plugged into the intraship comm system. "Pilot, contact Control: The package is secure. Then get us the hell out of here."
"Aye, sir," the young woman replied, the grin on her face evident even over the voice-only channel.
Burke surveyed the other men and women in the bay. All of the surviving hostages were alive. One of his men was wounded, one woman killed. Some of the SOLARs were slumped in their seats. Others fidgeted, the adrenaline still pumping through their bodies. Just as soon as the pressure was tolerable, the interior doors opened and the room was swarmed with medics.
The platoon leader popped his suit open and breathed the ship's recycled air that was only slightly less stale than his suit's. One of the hostages came up to him.
"Thank you, Lieutenant," she said, tears in her eyes. "To all your men and women."
"Just doing our job, ma'am," his voice was deep and gravelly.
You had better be worth the price we paid to rescue you.
She patted him on the shoulder before being led away along with the four others the SOLAR team had rescued. He was more worried about Wonder Boy and the rest of the platoon than being thanked. A flight surgeon plugged his monitors into the wounded man's power armour and began taking readings. The rest of the Team was looking on, dread and anticipation on their faces. They were looking for any excuse to hope.
After an eternity, the doctor spoke, his voice grave. "He's going to live. Leave him in his suit until we can get him into a sick bay. The nanobots have him stabilised."
Everyone's gaze went to the other suit that lay on the deck. The blood that had frozen in the cold vacuum of space was beginning to thaw into a pool on the deck. Chief Hayes placed a towel in the neck to sop up the blood and covered the still-armoured body with a blanket.
No one offered to help, and she didn't ask.
Sixteen out. Fifteen back. Three of the hostages had been killed by their captors before Burke and his team had been able to free them; they were left behind. It was a hell of a price to pay.
"Good work out there, people. There's nothing like infiltrating a base full of bad guys and shooting our way out, huh?" Burke said to the company. After having just lost one of their own in battle, they were in a fragile place and Burke needed them under control. And quickly. There would be time to grieve later. "Chief, secure all weapons. Mister Tran, upload all the combat film and telemetry. Prepare the platoon for debriefing. Everyone else: check your gear for micro-fissures and vacuum breaches. You all know the drill. I want this done quick and by the book. Go."
They both nodded. He pulled his AOIC and LPO aside as the rest of the platoon began their familiar operational rituals. "Keep them busy, especially Zipper. Don't let them bother the docs and keep them away from Wonder Boy and Traylor."
"Hoo-yah," they both nodded the familiar SOLAR affirmative response.
Burke stripped out his armoured shell and went about his post-mission tasks. Two images from the mission were burned in his mind: The flying chunk of debris that had taken Traylor's head clean off, and Archangel, the love of his life, whom he had not seen in over a year.
*****************
The trip back to the
Dreadnaught
took a little over two hours. Then it would just be a short hyperspace jump back to the sector base, Citadel Firestorm.
Wonder Boy was blissfully unaware of everything going on around him. The wounded SOLAR had been moved to a medical bunk in the back of the boat, along with the other hostages. Traylor's body was left where she was. As the transport settled into its berth in the battleship's hanger, Burke addressed the thirteen men and women who had gone on the mission with him.
"Folks, listen up," he said and they fell silent. "Once again, you all kicked ass and took names. You should be proud of yourselves. This is the finest platoon I have ever served in and you have showed me once again that you will never let the Alliance, the Navy or the Teams down."
He paused for a second, looking around the room. "Things are going to get out of control very quickly once we get back. Stick together. Stay humble. You're still SOLARs. You will not talk to the press until you have been debriefed by Commander Stickle. Is that clear?"
"Hoo-yah, Lieutenant Burke," they replied together. The transport settled on the deck. They could hear the docking ring lock around the hatch.
"Get Traylor on that stretcher. We take care of our own," Burke said. She was still in her armour and would stay that way until her burial in space. Four of the SOLARs gently laid her on the gurney while the others lined up on either side, Lieutenant Burke in the lead. On the other side of the ship, the wounded man and the hostages were taken to sick bay for treatment, but the living had one final duty to perform for their dead.
The hatch opened and some sailors rushed in to greet them. The euphoria at the successful mission disappeared when they saw Burke and the other SOLAR's hard expressions. They parted as the honour guard carried their fallen comrade to her final rest.
After taking Traylor to the morgue, Burke and his platoon returned to the small corner of the
Dreadnaught
assigned to SOLAR Team 6. He let out a sigh, knowing that he still had to face a mountain of after-action reports, inventories and other paperwork for the mission to be considered complete. The SOLARs headed towards their quarters, trying not to think of the empty spot in the platoon. Some would shed their tears now. Some later. Burke's had to wait. His job wasn't quite over.
He went to the debriefing where he recounted everything he could about the mission while it was still fresh in his mind. The intel people picked his brain for the tiniest details, hoping to glean any useable tidbits of information. Then he had a brief subspace chat with the Team 6 CO, who warned him not to talk to the press.
The war wasn't going so well for the Alliance. The systems that made up the Federation of Free Planets were fighting a holding action. The Alliance had them outnumbered and outgunned. Yet, all the Federation had to do was prolong the war for as long as possible. The war was draining the morale and the economy of the Alliance.
Everyone knew that unless there was a quick and decisive end to the fighting the Alliance would be forced to sue for peace in the next few months. That is, except for a handful of ideological extremists who took the sector prelate and her family hostage. Instantly, public opinion turned against the Federation. There's nothing like kidnapping a five year-old that makes people line up against your cause.
To rescue the hostages, Fleet Admiral von Luck turned to her best special operators, SOLAR Team 6. Once the hostages were located, Burke and his platoon were sent in to rescue them, along with two other SOLAR platoons and a company of space marines in support.
Losing one of his SOLARs was not part of the plan, but he knew that they had inflicted far heavier losses on the Federation than they had taken. It was little consolation, but losing people from his platoon was nothing new to Burke. That didn't make it any easier, but that's why they paid officers the big bucks.
After going through the debriefing and inspecting all their gear, they arrived back at the sector base. The platoon retired to their wardroom while Burke, his AOIC and the platoon's "third-O" met with the prelate, a couple of the other hostages and some public relations officers from the sector force command. Burke was not happy with the political side of the operation but the meeting didn't last long and he only felt like strangling someone one time.
