13 Chapter 13 :

Low Orbit, EX-5429 III, 3rd of March 2119.

Starfort Eta, Living Quaters, Captain Wells's Room.

Time, 10:00

Commander Elysium Knight

"That's over with." he muttered, "Come on, get them out of here. Oh, and take the dead guy as well, Brass will want to see this."

His soldiers quickly hefted the four unconcious bodies and one corpse over their shoulders in a fireman's lift.

With five members encumbered by their "captives", that left only six others free to defend them. And judging from what they'd seen of the local forces, it would not be enough.

They left the room, sweeping the corridors with their rifles. On the other side of the corridor, another team of SAS was doing the same, with the Security, Medical and Comms officers slung over their shoulders.

"We need to go." ordered Elysium.

As they were about to turn back to their bording craft, several dozen SAS barrelled around the corner like the devil himself was at their heels.

"Go! Go! They're coming!" the foremost one yelled, waving his hand frantically.

"The other way." motioned the Commander.

They began to run, slower because of the weight they had to lug through the artificial gravity.

The other soldiers caught up quickly.

"Commander, Sir." panted SAS Douglas, "They're right behind us."

"Damn! We need to get these people to safety."

Douglas looked deadly serious as he thought.

"Doug, no..." began Elysium.

"I have to Commander."

He slowed down, moving out of the way of the other fleeing soldiers.

"Don't wait for me!" he yelled, saluting his Commander, his weapon held firmly in the direction of the coming enemy.

Elysium didn't stop, he couldn't affort to. But he returned his salute as quickly as possible.

These aliens are gonna pay for what they've taken, he vowed.

Behind him he heard a frantic yell, as well as the loud discharge of a full automatic burst from an Electromagnetic Rifle. And several cries in the strange flowing language that belonged to the Elves.

They ran like the wind, thankful for their endurance trainning, until they reached a particular room on the side, a few kilometers later.

The lead SAS slowed down and secured the room. As Elysium arrived by the door he kneeled and spun on his heels so he was facing the way they'd come. His rifle perfectly parallel with the ground throughout the entire maneuver. He scoped the corridor. Sure enough, a large force of Space Dwarves was approaching, six abreast and uncountably deep. Each one grasping a spear and shield, all in resplendant steel-colored armor.

Elysium unloaded a few rounds down the corridor, succeding only in slowing them down as they covered themselves with their shields.

He held his position for a mere ten seconds while all his soldiers filed into the room and from there into the boarding craft held within.

As always, Elysium was the last to board.

He lept in and strapped himself to his seat just as the vessel locked down it's boarding tube and dropped it's magnetic clamps. It's engines hummed as they propelled the ship away from the starfort.

"Re-entering UNSF defensive umbrella." informed the pilot.

"God bless CWIS." muttered SAS Lucy. She pronounced the acronym for Close In Weapon System as a single word, in standard military fashion, 'see-wiz'. These were the small AI controlled turrets that cleaned the space of shells or missiles by shooting them.

Elysium keyed in his comms and called the Admiral. A two dimentionnal holographic screen appeared on his arm, Thraile's face in the centre of it.

"Brander, I have the targets. We're on our way back now."

"Good work Elysium, I knew I could count on you. I'll meet you in the Hangar. Are the crew alright."

"The officers we found are fine, that's Wells, Magnler and Xeing. We also have Flitztrauerlingh, Regala and Parker. Of the crew, I don't know. That's not our op."

"Yes, I sent the marines to rescue them, but I haven't heard back from them yet. Anything untoward to report?"

"Yes, I brought one of the dead aliens, and a prisonner."

"A prisonner? You caught one of the aliens alive?"

Elysium nodded, "I think she's a civ."

Thraile looked pensive, "Ok, bring them aboard the Adjudicator."

Elysium nodded again and cut the feed.

It was a bumpy ride back to the fleet, though it took only a few minutes. Instead of returning to the Black Prince, due to the 'captives' on board, they headed for the massive centrepiece of the fleet, the UNS Adjudicator, flagship of Admiral Thraile.

Their craft skimmed the dreadnought and spun it's engines, slowing down. Then rotated and gently slid into the port side hangar.

Spinning on the spot, it alighted in one of the small fighter bays.

Elysium unbuckled and got out by the ramp. Last in, first out. He cleared the way for his soldiers, ordering them into line, with the unconcious captives on one side, and the dead elf to the other. Every other soldier stood behind them.

He saw Thraile walking down one of the stairwells, twelve infantrymen flanking him. He was there within the next thirty seconds.

"Good job Elysium!" congratulated the Admiral, patting the Commander on his back, "You said you'd saved all the officers?"

"Yes, sir." he answered stiffly.

Thraile paused, "How many did you lose?"

Elysium shuffled, "From what I've seen, two to three squads. From what I predict from encounters we had, I'd say over half the battalion."

"Good men all." comiserated the Admiral, "I'll have the fleet fall back to the nearby moon, we'll stay out of range of their weapons. I'll have honors prepared for the men we lost."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now go and get some R&R, I'll have my men take the prisonners. I'll make sure everyone is well taken care of, and lock up this alien in the brig. I'll question her when we're safe."

"With respect sir, I'd like to be there at the interrogation."

Thraile thought for a moment, "Alright, I understand. I'll let you know when we are about to begin. But for now, go rest. That's an order."

Elysium let out a tired smile, "Yes sir."

"Come on, men. You did well, go rest. You've earned it."

The SAS's shoulders slumped slightly and they lay down their charges, handing them over to the ship's personnel.

They then followed their Commander down the ship's corridors to the lounge for Rest and Relaxation.

Elysium sent his men ahead and, instead of going to the lounge, went to the Taskforce Command Headquaters.

It took several minutes to cross the gigantic vessel to it's heart, where men and women were monitoring the fleet's systems and integrety, as well as sending new commands to both navy and army personnel.

It was a busy place, with people rushing left and right, getting information where it needed to be. Blue screens and holograms flashed as targetting information buzzed through. As well as the occasional flash of red that informed damage or destruction of vessels.

All the noise and shouting was painful to listen to, he stopped by one of the controllers who was frantically analysing action in a far quadrant.

"We have ships taking damage in sector Victor 26-34! Commodore Gewehr is requesting reinforcements!"

One of the officers ran over, he consulted the screen for a second before ordering the UNS Pillar of Autumn and the UNS Augustina as reinforcements.

Elysium watched both ships peel off from the main Task Force as they received their orders.

The officer turned to Elysium.

"I'm sorry mate, but there's too much going on, please get out of here before...", his eyes dropped to the Commander's chest, observing both his rank and his medals. He looked up sharply, panic in his eyes, "Commander Knight, I appologise for my outbreak! I'm only trying to deal with..."

"Don't stand here yapping," interrupted Elysium, "Get back to work!"

"Yes sir!" he said hastily, before running off to another post.

The veteran Commander slowly worked his way around the mess of mingling officers and ensigns, heading for the Special Forces command centre. Because of the occasionnal delicate nature of SpecOps, it was situated in a sectionned off part of the TCH.

Inside were three ensigns and one officer. The officer slowly working his way around the workstations, closely observing the screens before moving on to the next. Many of the workstations were unused, as they were required only on larger ops.

Knowing Elysium well, his only words were, "Commander." before continuing his job.

Elysium walked up to the 1st command station, where the ensign had the name 1st Battalion, SAS on his back. He looked over his shoulder. He saw a rough schematic of the enemy base, as well as the little blue dots moving around, their status flashed over their symbology. Bording craft icons were placed by the edges of the station, with capacity symbols in number out of sixty held over them. The map updated every so often when new information was gathered by teams in the station. A wall where there wasn't one, a doorway where there was a wall, ect...

Elysium's eyes flashed over the casualty count over in the top right hand corner of the screen. He winced at the number, 47. Not as bad as he expected, but already a good fifth of his entire Battalion.

Every few minutes the casualty count would tick up, sometimes by one or two, sometimes by as much as five.

He saw status. Apparently the crew of the New Horizon wern't as hot headed or stubborn as their senior officers and were obaying commands given to them by the men on the field. Elysium watched in silence for a good half hour, occasionnaly giving out orders to the ensign in the chair, but otherwise keeping himself to himself. By the end of the operation, and everybody was on board boarding craft, the casualty count was 71. Mission acomplished.

He let out a sigh of relief. Glad that his men had not suffered worse than they already had. The officer in the room seemed equally relieved but was concentrating on the other two posts.

Elysium sidled over to the screen. The backs of the ensigns read 401st Space Marines and 66th Space Marines. Their casualty count was high. Both regiments had lost numbers in the early hundreds, but considering that their base numbers were higher, the Commander reluctantly admitted they were doing okay. And, in true american fashion, their kill count was far, far higher. They were being especially aggressive today, and they had succeded in securing most of the crew of the New Horizon. But it seemed stray bullets had found their mark in some of the exploration ship's personnel. The americans where always a little too liberal with their ammo.

But the fact that his soldiers were safe left his mind to wander about the enemy they were facing.

It seemed funny though, that the aliens would not kill their captives to keep the marines, or indeed the SAS from getting to them.

It might be in their culture to keep prisonners in a comfortable environnment. How could he tell? He was no alienologist.

Eventually, after much time, and many casualties, the Marines finally succeded in securing the last of the crew before exiting. In percentage, the two thousand man Marine regiments had lost less, but more in manpower, over 350 dead americans lay in that station.

But they won.