CHAPTER 15
WHITEY'S RAIDERS BOARD THE SPACE SHIP
“Just look at the size of that ship; it is like a small city." One of Whitey’s men said as they huddled around the port windows of the cramped transport trying to see their objective.
“It looks like some of Ruby’s patsies are at an airlock trying to board.” Another said.
“Let them, the poor saps.” Whitey mused. “If Ruby's people took my advice we would all dock at the same moment and force them to divide up their defenses.” There is more than one way to board a space ship and Whitey had done them all and even invented a few.
"Where did they get so many transports? There must be hundreds of them." Said another man.
“Who knows? Team leaders to me.” Whitey announced. The four team leaders were next to him in an instant. “We want to find the fastest way to the command center. Pilot, kick this piece of junk into overdrive and get us to that port right there by the midsection. OK, guys that airlock will be home base, we will control everything in and out of it; and when it is time to say goodbye that will be the back door out."
“Hold your horses, Whitey, it's coming.” The impatient voice from the pirate headquarters snapped.
“We are about to dock. I need to know what is on the other side of that airlock. I need it now! What are your hackers doing?”
“Come on Whitey, you are not the only unit out there. Go ahead and dock. We will get you in and download the info as we go.”
Moments later tempered steel clamps from the transport reached out and locked on the Stardiver like a metallic parasite.
Whitey’s Raiders were organized into four units of twenty-five, and each unit was subdivided into five teams of five. They drew lots. The shortest lot was first through the airlock and first to take casualties. C unit drew that lot.
Whitey punched the pad at the communication center. “Command. We are docked. We need the intel. What is on the other side of the airlock door? Where is the map of the ship? We can’t board without knowing the layout of the ship.”
“OK, Whitey we will open the airlock door with a virus, you can board in 5 seconds."
“Wait, maggot brain! I need the intel on the ship first! What are we going into? Where will we be when we get inside?”
The alarm announced the door was about to open. The raiders sprung like a machine tossing flash bombs through the first inches of the opening, next smoke bombs were tossed in. Moments later Whiteys raiders pushed through the narrow airlock. C unit was pounded by defenders who sprayed the airlock with all manner of weapons. The raiders were ramming themselves into a confusing whirlpool where lasers, guns, and blasters fired a wall of destruction against them. The first through were thrown back and fell against those behind them stunned or knocked out. Those behind bounded over their bodies to be pounded back. The fallen men became a barrier and behind it, Whitey's men knelt and fired. They fought and fell and still fought.
Whitey realized they were in trouble. He pressed the radio on his color and spoke into the communicator in his helmet. “What is taking so long, Michael? We should be through by now.”
“Michel is down sir!” a voice yelled over the roar of battle. “This is Brandon. We are facing rangers and police force. They are holding hard.”
“Draw back, but do it slowly." Whitey saw battle like a dance where deadly lovers swayed back and forth. He sensed rhythm in its movements.
”Let them think they got us, give them the confidence to come out. So, come all the way back into the transport.”
“Aye sir, drawing back.”
“Bill.” Whitey addressed the man next to him. ”C unit is coming in. As soon as they do I want every one of your men to toss stun bombs and flash grenades over their heads and into the hall. Time it tight because as the last of C unit comes in B and A units are going out.”
The sound of fighting was deafening in the tight space of the airlock. The last man of C unit backed into the transport with a backward shuffeling step, and weapons firing into the hall. The hall filled with cheering. The defenders thinking victory was theirs charged forward. Twenty-four stun bombs and flash grenades flew out of the airlock and landed among them. The flashing and stunning toppled the men onto the floor, scattering them like toys. Whitey's Raiders charged through the airlock and into the dock. The last standing defenders were too dazed to fight, a few fled up the hall and out into the larger corridor.
“C unit is down to seventeen sanding, Sir.” Bill was an old soldier. He looked at the scene around them as did Whitey. The floor was littered with moaning men and others lying still not moaning.
“They were fighting hard were they not?”
“Yes. Bill.”
Whitey gave hand signals to his men to wait at the end of the hall where it met the main corridor. He picked up the weapon of one of the fallen rangers. “These men have the best equipment don’t they Bill? Something is not right. We should not have had to fight so hard to get on board. What numbers do you have for me?”
"We've lost none. But five are down with broken bones, mostly ribs from the guns. The armor held up well. Two have concussions and another is still knocked out."
"Have C Unit stay here. They can guard the airlock and keep our escape route open."
"What about them?" Bill nodded toward the stunned and wounded rangers who lay about the hall.
"C Unit will guard them."
Blasters fired at the end of the hall. Defenders were attacking. Whitey’s Raiders crouched and fired weapons.
“Bill, this is going to be a real fight.”
(c) Adron
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