Jupiter's Halo Book One: The Lies

Chapter Fourteen "The Approach"

The lights of the troop compartment dimmed to a deep red glow, signalling the peregrine had started its final approach.

>“Two minutes out, Captain.”Came the pilot’s voice in Lanad’s comm-link.

She nodded unconsciously and raised her hand in a spinning motion as she relayed the message.

The marines filling the two long lines of seats began to stand as the harness bars lifted. The sound of their weapons initiating filled the confines of the peregrine with dull clicks and quiet beeps.

>“Final weapons prep. Ready in one minute.”“Blast shutters are down over the loading bay entrance, Captain.”Came a warning from the pilot. Itona could see the immense door blocking their entry as she zoomed the image in.

>“We're close enough to attempt a remote hack, sir."

>“No. It’ll take too long.” She replied. >“The loading bay should be sealed internally so we’re not risking the integrity of the station’s atmosphere. Cut us a hole. Let’s get in there.”

She sent another command to the co-pilot to initiate a scan of the approaching debris. If there were hostile forces aboard the station and they needed to evacuate civilians under fire, the floating cloud would make any outward journey more hazardous.

The Peregrines were sturdy; built for delivering marines direct into combat and able to soak up the likely enemy fire they would attract, but they weren’t invulnerable.

A direct collision with a large enough piece of debris would breach the reinforced hull of a dropship and leave any passengers floating in the cold void of space.

The marines of First Company were equipped to survive, at least for a time, but the chances anyone already on the station was similarly prepared were too slim to even consider. They needed a mapped route through the field and Itona was a little impressed with herself for thinking about it. It was the kind of tactical acumen she’d lacked as a lieutenant.

Just a year ago, maybe even less the idea of considering an exit strategy wouldn’t have occurred to her. Worrying about getting out was a consideration to be dealt with when it was needed. The thrill of the dive into combat had been everything to her and nothing else had mattered.

Learning to think ahead was a new skill she had yet to master; a need DeMarchek had waxed lyrical about when she’d applied for the promotion to captain. At the time his constant iterations of her need to grow as a tactician had been infuriating, but now the hint of pride she felt at her own forethought threw those memories into a different light.

She smiled to herself, thinking of the Admiral in his office on the Pride, watching everything unfold and seeing his young protege putting the lessons he’d painstakingly taught her into action.

>“All marines ready for deployment, Captain.” Timonny sent to her comm-link.

Even through the voice of his mind, she felt she could hear his disdain, his discomfort at reporting to her. She didn’t mind, in a way it was a benefit. The more he hated her the harder he tried to show himself in a positive light to better her achievements and outshine her command.

That was something someone like Timonny would never, could never understand; the Company worked as a single unit. Its successes belonged to every member, as did it's failures. The harder Timonny tried to stand out, the more he tried to show himself as succeeding, the better her leadership was regarded. After all, Timonny was a part of First Company and First Company was hers.

“Very good, Lieutenant.” She replied out loud.

Timonny already had his helmet fixed in place, the matte grey of its blank surfaces giving no hint of the expression beneath, but she could imagine the sneer that creased his upper lip at her continued avoidance of the comm-link.

>“Captain, should I have the pilot map the debris field for potential evac routes?” He asked.

Itona’s smile took on a sly edge.

“Already done.”

Timonny was silent for a moment.

"And you don't need to confirm readiness in the other dropships," she added as she realised what he was doing. "I have already received confirmations from Lieutenants Cassini and Mentrim. All is in order."

She imagined him scowling now. Her lack of efficiency and tactical overview had been points he'd cited in argument to her promotion. She didn't know if he was aware his dispute of her promotion had been relayed directly to her by DeMarchek. She told herself she didn't care. She knew she shouldn't care, but the rebellious part of her wanted him to know she was entirely aware of his misgivings and revelled in his continued annoyance of her seniority over him.

>“We’re readying for drop now, Captain.”“Countdown to mark.”“Countdown to mark.”“Five.”“Four.”“Three.”“Marines of the First Company,”“Your people are waiting for you.”“Two.”“You will know victory today.”“One.”“With me!”“Mark.”“Two minutes to drop.”

The pilot's voice came loud through the internal speakers where Aitkin had synced his comm-link. It was a habit Itona frowned upon and he knew Timonny downright despised, but he liked his squads to know what was happening without him as a blockage, as much as possible.

Without needing to give the order he saw the restraint bars lift and the marines stand from their seats to prep their weapons and armour. His comm-link filled with the chatter of confirmations while his ears picked up the clicks of weapons activating.

Beside him Johs stood from his seat, his great height meaning the top of his helmet brushed the ceiling of the Peregrine. He stepped close to Aitkin and held his arms out wide.

>“Give me a last once over then, sir.”He sent through a private link.

Aitkin smiled. Even inside his head, he could hear the ever-present mirth in Johs’ words. He leaned in, checking over the pressure seals and tugging on various sections to ensure the armour was void-tight.

>“You know if you’re gonna touch me like that you really ought to buy me dinner.” Johs sent.

Aitkin's reply was to hammer his fist against the plating of Johs' stomach, drawing a muffled gasp from inside the blank-faced helmet.

“Looks like you’re good to go.” He said out loud. “Run full diagnostic.”

Johs nodded and stood straight for a moment, returning his arms to his sides. Aitkin glanced up the compartment to see the scene replayed in several other pairs and then back to Johs as the Sergeant relaxed.

“All in order,” He sent. “Green lights across the board.”

Aitkin nodded.

“Good.” Internally he sent confirmation to Captain Lanad of his squads’ readiness. She returned an acceptance almost immediately but sent no words.

>“Now do I get to put my hands on you, sir?”

Aitkin tilted his head to one side and raised an eyebrow to look sardonically at Johs. The impassive faceplate of the helmet he looked into gave nothing away.

“You didn’t get enough of that back in the armoury?” He asked.

Before Johs could answer the drop-ship lurched violently, throwing them both from their feet. Aitkin landed hard on his back.

>“Report!”He sent to the pilot.

>“Sorry, sir,”Came the instant reply. >“Emergency evasion of Pride Three. It took some kind of hit and dropped straight into our flight path.”“Pride Three report status.”He commanded to cut through the chatter.

>“Sorry, sir,”The pilot’s words were hurried even through the link. >“We took an impact to the starboard wing that pulled us off course.”

>“Debris collision?”Aitkin questioned.

>“Confirming now, sir.”“I’d swear the path was clear, but there’s a lot of movement out here.”

Aitkin felt a worm of disquiet turn in his gut. There was a lot of movement out here, but the Peregrine’s were flying too fast and the debris moving too slowly for one to realistically take a strike anywhere but head-on.

He switched back to the direct link to his own transport’s pilot.

>“Full area sweep.” He sent as the feeling something was wrong started to grow. >“If there’s anything out there but dead metal I want to know.”

>“Scans already running, sir. Captain Lanad ordered the debris field mapped for potential evac rout-”

The words were cut short as the Peregrine rocked again. The violence of the motion could only mean they’d collided with something or taken a direct hit from enemy fire.

The command channel of Aitkin’s comm-link lit up, overriding all others as the outgoing distress signal from the pilot filled his mind.

The Peregrine jolted again, lifting him bodily from the floor before dumping him back down hard and forcing the air from his lungs. Aitkin lifted his head as the sound of tearing metal filled his unprotected ears.

He reached for his helmet, still clamped to his thigh as the front of the troop compartment peeled away with a metallic scream. The rush of escaping air blanked all other sound as he was torn from the deck and fired out of the widening gap into the cold darkness of space.