Chapter 12

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Orbit of Euphoria
Exact coordinates: Unknown

Johnson never liked the idea of carrying around his heavy revolver around. In fact, he had never holstered it, loaded it or even fired it since the Thilian Skirmish, which was almost 10 years ago.

Until today.

He carefully inserted one of the pre-loaded hexagonal cylinder below the retractable top rail. With a soft clink, the rail moved downward, securing the chambers in place.

The revolver was a custom B-25 Xiphos manufactured by Northern Atlas Kinetics. Designed with a match-grade trigger, it's well accurate up to at least 150m under normal atmospheric conditions. Johnson acquired this pistol due to it's sheer kinetic energy it's bullets imparted upon impact. He remembered that he almost got banned from one of the ranges in the Southern Colonies as he completely obliterated one of the digital target plates to pieces. Let's say the range owner wasn't happy how much those individual plates costed him. The last time Johnson used this on a close encounter with a human target, he tasted blood, literally.

Of course, a typical hard-hitting revolver like the Xiphos had some drawbacks. It was heavy and kicks like a mule whenever fired.

But it didn't really bother Johnson.

Then three, urgent, consecutive knocks sounded on his cabin door.

Johnson slid his Xiphos into his leg holster, "Who is it?"

"Captain, we got some ideas that you may want to hear," Richard said.

Johnson put Richard in command for now. He had to think. Think about everything: What's the enemy going to do next. What information he should relay to Mendoza's marines. He had rehearsed everything in his head.

And most importantly, he had to think of his crew and family, and people he cared about the most.

Before he left for Euphoria, he called his daughter, who at his own request, begged her to move to the Inner Colonies. She did, fortunately, with her entire family. Akureyri was a long way from the Frontline, she would be safe. It always bothered Johnson that whenever he was on a Terminal call with her, there was always a chance her connection would get cut off due to the frequent air-raid drills. But now, he didn't have to worry about that anymore.

Johnson slipped the Xiphos into his leg holster, looked at his messy bed, one that he had not slept on in a few weeks.

I'll clean that mess later, he thought to himself.

As he opened the lock, he was greeted with ensigns and bridge crew shuffling around. With haste he proceeded to the bridge.

"Captain on deck!" Richard announced and crew snapped to attention.

Johnson stood before a holographic image of Marcus and his executive officer standing in the middle of the bridge. "At ease, everyone."

Marcus was rubbing his chin with his right palm, deep in thought, before facing Jenkins, "Johnson, I think your helmsman could be right, we may not be the only ship that's actually still in the sector."

"I got a feeling there's a 'but' somewhere along the lines," Johnson replied.

"Aha," Marcus raised his finger, "But, my rangefinders can't even get an eye on that corvette."

Richard stepped behind the hologram, circling around his spot, "It could be a Zaslon-class we're trying to find."

"He's right cap, if the corvette was well armed, it should perform hit and runs," Marcus' XO said, "Right now, al they're doing is jamming long range comms and waiting."

"Waiting for reinforcements," Marcus added.

"Precisely, sir," the XO confirmed his thoughts.

And he was right. A well-crewed corvette will not hesitate to engage a destroyer given the conditions of the battlespace. There were tons of debris for it to find cover behind and agile enough to maneuver around them with ease.

"So what's the point?" Johnson asked.

Marcus looked at his XO, then at Richard, "I think what our fellow XOs are saying is that..."

"It's a Zaslon-class, jammer corvette with full radar, optical and motion masking," Richard finished his sentence,"with minimum weapons payload."

Johnson walked towards the window and the eyes of Marcus and the rest watched him, "Radar won't work," he placed his arms behind his back, "Sonar won't work, obviously," he looked out of the window, "Motion trackers won't work," his eyes focused on the dust gathered on the glass closely, "Even our rangefinders can't see them."

There was a slight pause, as if everyone was at thought, "And we can't send in the Marines until we're sure we are the only vessels in this quadrant."

Then Marcus said, "Unless..."

He turned back to them, "Jameson, we still have the Warden?"

"Aye," Jameson replied, "I can prep it for launch."

"Woah, hang on a second, are you seriously gonna try frying them?" Marcus asked, "It can take out our short range comms. And if we lose comms, we're screwed."

"It's on the table," Johnson said, "What else can we do?"

"We can supercharge our tungsten slugs," Marcus proposed, "but that would cut 80% of our power, meaning the Jericho will lose her rotational gravitational drives, electricity, hell, even life support."

"Same-same, frying them. And no, that's out of the question ," Johnson replied, "It's too risky."

Johnson rubbed his bearded chin, thinking, his mind was running out of ideas that won't jeopardise the entire thing. It was supposed to be a simple search and rescue op. Now, he had to rescue his closest friend, who's ship is left floating next to his, under hostile control.

"Unless, we bait them in," Richard suggested.

No one thought it was a great idea, having the enemy board your ship. But at this point, it seemed to be the only damn option.

Good thing Johnson had his Xiphos right now.

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"Contact front!" Jackal yelled.

After several exchanges of gunfire, I was sure someone beside me fell onto the ground.

The three enemy soldiers that came out of the building to confront the unstoppable charge of the 1st Platoon were met with a swift reply. We laid waste to the three of them, but more came out and tried to stop our advanced.

Alongside my squad, I ran, only slowing down occasionally to fire a couple rounds ahead. Midnight sprinted past me, stacking up next to a wall with the second squad.

"Push up! Go!" someone yelled.

I pushed up along the rest, until reaching the main door. Couple of explosives later, we found ourselves inside the mall, sweeping from left to right.

As the dust settled, first squad covered the front, while second squad and third squad took the second floor. Scattered across the floor were bullet casings and dead PRF soldiers. The power was out and the only light source came from a hole in the roof with sunlight seeping through it.

"Whats the gameplan, boss?!"

"Same as before, secure the area, kill the bad guys," Gideon replied, "First and second squad, link up with 2nd Platoon and clear up the North and East Entrances, squad three and squad four on me. LEG IT FIREWALKERS!"

"HOOAH!" We yelled.

Jackal gathered first squad while Sgt. Yuri took the led second squad and together we moved in two columns.

"Oi, take your squad up the first floor, we'll slot these wankers downstairs," Jackal told Yuri.

"Da, you got it," Yuri replied, "1-2, on me," before leading his team up the nearest escalator.

"Move it 1-1," Jackal said to us.

The layout of the mall was pretty straightforward. It had four entrances: North, South, East and West. Think of the mall as a cross, with each entrance connected to the center square. I haven't had a good look at the floorplan, but there was certainly a huge area to cover, the underground parking lot, the roof and other miscellaneous areas.

Then suddenly, a group of figures dashed from left to right. Green fatigues, led by one figure with a bright red arm band. My gunsight was raised against the crowd of men and I blasted them.

Jackal's "Contact front!" was immediately drowned out by gunfire that started rattling away, cutting into our ears and air.

Within seconds, we blasted those men, dropping them like flies. The figure with the armband had a round rip straight through his neck causing him to crash onto the floor gasping for air. The man following directly behind him took a round to his ankle, before a barrage of rounds finished him off. The other figures faired no better, with most of them taking gun shot wounds to the upper torso, killing them.

"Contact!" What sounded like Yuri could be heard one floor above as his squad fired away at the enemy. The enemy on the other hand, did the same. The intense exchange of gunfire cracked.

Then gunfire came from ahead. Orange sparks flashed rapidly within the dark. Twenty plus shadows roughly resembling PRF soldiers advanced toward our position.

"Hostiles, 30 meters!" McCord announced.

"Spread out, find cover!" Jackal announced.

Green tracer rounds flew over our heads as we dove behind whatever object that looked strong enough to stop bullets. I found myself behind a metal bench.

I popped back up to find targets. Using the light behind the enemy troops, it made targeting them easier. In addition, muzzle flashes from their weapons gave away their positions.

I sighted up one of the soldiers and blasted away. Two rounds flew there and a figure dissappeared from view.
Several other figures dropped at the same time as the rest of the squad slowly picked them off.

The enemy sent their reply back at us. I felt two rounds flew pretty close to me. Loud supersonic cracks sounded all over my head as I dove back in cover.

"Lee! James! Lob some HEDPs over there, the rest of you, keep em pinned!" Jackal ordered.

"Got it sarge!" Lee said.

Jackson placed his SAW on the ground, bipod deployed, and fired away in controlled bursts.

"Come get some!" he yelled, firing away.

I propped my rifle over the bench, aiming the barrel towards the enemy. Using the bench as a support, I applied pressure to the trigger, almost rapidly. The combined fire from the squad either kept the enemy down in cover, or down in their pool of blood.

Pretty sure I took another one or two of them out of the fight.

Then two bloops came from the two grenadiers in our squad. Followed by two loud explosions on the enemy positions. One of the grenades struck directly at a PRF soldier, sending what remained of him into the air. His comrades that were close to him ate some fragmentation, killing them. The second grenade hit a little short, but it kept the enemy suppressed.

"James, a little higher! Aim for the left flank, I'll hit the right," Lee said to James over gunfire.

"OK!" James replied as he ejected the spent 40mm casing.

Jackson's SAW was still firing away. Anyone who dared stuck their head or weapon out in the open met a dozen or so rounds to their face. One of the enemy soldiers drew out an RPG, only to be shredded into a cloud of bloody mist.

I anchored my rifle between my armpit and depressed the magazine release. After slipping a fresh magazine into the receiver, I sighted up again.

I threw another six to seven more rounds that way, dropping a man and probably wounding another. As the other man limped away, I blasted him again. His silhouette fell, and disappeared from my line of sight.

Two more 40mm grenades flew at the enemy. The first grenade landed at the center of their formation while the other landed on the left flank. Fragmentation and blast waves maimed the enemy light infantry. Blood, body parts and metal flew into the air. Enemy gunfire slowed as death plagued the enemy ranks.

"I think they're falling-" Amber said before interrupting herself with a burst from her carbine, "I think they're falling back."

"Cover me, reloading," Jackson said as he drew a box of 5.56mm ammunition next to him.

We still fired regardless. No one said 'cease fire', so we just kept shooting. Anyone else that were standing were quickly picked off. I took out two of the remaining foes with two quick trigger pulls.

I scanned the area ahead with my rifle from the left to the right, and then back the other way. There were no silhouettes left standing, they were all dead.

Then Jackson fired a short burst towards the left side. His shots went to the wall, throwing parts of the wall everywhere.

"What in the bloody hell are you shooting at?" Jackal asked.

"There's a guy standing on the left, 25 meters, next to the giant ass flower pot," Jackson replied.

I traced the barrel that way, towards the 'giant ass flower pot'. My red dot was aligned with said location, finger on the trigger. I could hear the cracking of weapons as the squad shifted their aim. With a 1x red dot optic, I couldn't see much. Even Midnight with his 4x magnified combat gunsight, he struggled to see what was Jackson shooting at, especially when most of the lights were out.

"Caxe, get a look at it," Jackal said to Caxe, also aiming that general direction.

Caxe propped her M150A1 Compact Squad Designated Marksman Rifle against the wall, eye behind the 8x scope. She then shook her head.

"I think what you're shooting at, is a helpless giant tree," Amber said.

Jackson grunted, "I swear I fucking saw something moved-"

Then a sudden loud crack hammered through the air.

Then McCord yelled "Man down!"

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Sorry about the late update. Been very busy with exams, followed by three long days of tedious logistic operations (moving my stuff around).

But I'm back. Also, thanks for the support so far! I didn't expect to receive so many reads. Your feedback is very welcomed, whether it's negative or positive.

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