“You're Resistance?” Povich asked when he and Mingana stepped into the captain's office.
Mingana nodded.
“For how long?”
“Years. But, this is my first operation.” The captain perched on the corner of her desk, arms folded. “And I intend for it to be successful.”
Povich cocked his head. “What is this operation?”
“To prevent this ship from using the weapon that will wipe out that city,” Mingana replied. “Also, we have to destroy the Consortium ships that'll be joining us. And and then we make contact with the Calaar and deliver this weapon to them.”
“Sounds...overly ambitious,” said Povich.
“It'll be easier with your participation.”
Povich shook his head, his gaze smoldering with frustration. “Damn you Captain for dropping this trouble in my lap. My intention since the Consortium arrived in our part of the galaxy was to keep my head down, don't make waves, and do my duty.”
Mingana said nothing. She watched her second deliberate.
“In fact, I'd always considered the Resistance to be pursuing a futile enterprise.” Povich threw his hands up. “I mean, how in the hell can we, mere humans, take on a colossus like the Consortium? What could we possibly achieve? What kind of blow could we inflict on them?”
“There's one way to find out,” said Mingana. “And it sounds to me like you want to be on the inflicting end.”
Povich blew out a heavy sigh. “I suppose I do, Captain.”
“Are you with us?”
Povich stared deeply into his captain's eyes. “I'm with you, Justine Mingana. I still think what the Resistance is doing is folly, but I'll join this mission.”
Mingana displayed a relieved smile. “Thank you, Arie. I'm sorry for plunging you into this situation.”
Povich gave his captain a sly look accompanied by a skeptical grin. “No you're not.”
***
Mingana led the assault on weapons room 3 while Povich remained on the bridge. Povich protested, expressing deep concern for his captain's safety, and offering to lead the assault, given his greater ground combat expertise. But Mingana turned him down on principle. She had put a portion of her crew at great risk, with the possibility that her ship and everyone on board, Resistance and non-Resistance alike could be destroyed. She could not in good conscious enjoy the safety of the bridge while her shipboard marines faced the danger of taking on Consortium guards. The Resistance entrusted this mission to her and she intended to carry it out at the fullest measure. And if she were killed, Povich would take command and finish the mission.
Mingana ordered that the marines be armed with heavy weapons and a disproportionate amount of explosives. She was able to muster up to fifteen extra marines to augment the thirty two who were part of the Resistance. The marines who refused to participate in the mission, she ordered restricted to quarters.
Two marines emerged into the corridor wielding Tactical Arena mini-rocket launchers.
They triggered rockets before the guards in the corridor outside of weapons room 3 could react. Both rockets struck the guards and exploded, shattering their armor and killing them instantly. A marine tossed a disk shaped charge and it landed inches from the weapons room 3 door. The door opened and as Consortium guards rushed out into the corridor, the charge exploded. The explosion's force slammed with point blank ferocity into the guards, scattering them like confetti. Three lay still in the corridor, two others, struggled to their feet, appearing disoriented.
Mingana rushed ahead of her marines and targeted the nearest wounded guard with her KR. A torrent of shotgun shells blazed from the weapon shearing into damaged parts of the guard's armor, penetrating flesh.
The guard's movements ceased in a bloody instant.
Lt. Winter finished off the other guard with a savage burst of her mini-rocket launcher.
Winter held back her over zealous captain and signaled a marine forward. The marine pointed a launcher and shot a grenade into the weapons room. A blast sounded and ash gray smoke gusted out of the weapons room into the corridor.
Marines stormed into the room. A crossfire of dark energy beams greeted them. A marine flopped lifelessly to the deck, his head blasted to red vaper by a well placed energy beam. The marine behind him spun practically full circle as energy beams lacerated his upper body. A lance of energy thrust like a fiery blade into Lt. Winter's side. She cried out in pain as she stumbled to the deck.
Mingana fired her KR, unleashing hot metal on the position where that shot came from. She saw a Consortium guard go down, but she wasn't sure if it was her doing. Two marines with Beringer 50 cals swept the area. A third marine fired a rocket before being cut down in a volley of energy.
The rocket collided with a bulkhead and the subsequent explosion upended a guard in a searing swell of fire, smoke and debris.
Mingana knelt protectively over Lt. Winter, pumping shells from her KR in every direction. When her clip ran empty, she expelled it and slapped in a full one with expert precision. She fired several more thumping bursts, hitting a Consortium guard in the chest.
A marine appeared and helped the captain drag Winter to the cover of a nearby partition. Energy beams sizzled past Mingana. A beam grazed her gun arm. That minor brush tore through the interlocking ballistic mesh of her flak jacket, marking her skin with a deep blistering burn. The captain clenched her teeth at that hot, scathing patch of pain. She switched her KR to her other hand and fired blindly around the partition. The gun's brutal recoil nearly threw her arm out its socket. More explosions from grenades and rockets rang out in deafening succession. Black smoke clogged the room. The enraged or anguished voices of Consortium guards and marines carried above the churning raucous of combat. Mingana didn't know exactly when the silence set in. For a few seconds, the rapid, drumming of her heartbeat filled her head as if she were locked in an echo chamber. And then a marine called out: “Clear!”
Mingana checked on Winter.
Wisps of smoke spiraled from a glistening wound in the lieutenant's side. Winter tried to project a certain unflappability, but intense pain sabotaged her effort. She let out a ragged groan.
“You're going to be OK, lieutenant,” Mingana assured the woman, gently squeezing her hand.
Winter managed a wry smile. “I...hope so, Captain...because I'm not done kicking ass.”
Mingana grinned in agreement.. “Neither am I.” She rose slowly, cautiously, taking a look around the room.
Marines were circulating about, assessing their kills. Ten Consortium guards and five Consortium technicians had occupied the weapons room. All of them lay scattered on the deck, dead. Six marine fatalities, from what Mingana could make out; four wounded. Her shoulders slumped. Another battle won at a terrible cost. But the mission wasn't over yet.
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