Clipped Wings

This is just a non-erotic side story I made for the Adventure of Tash and John series. Just to give back story to the universe.

*****

March 28th, 2184 -- 1300 Hours

Republic of Texas Carrier USS Houston - TXNC 16255

The room was a buzz of excitement. Corporal John Henry Baird sat in the large auditorium surrounded by the rest of the Republic of Texas Army's 105th Airborne, first company. The room had probably warmed up a good five degrees since he had first entered. The USS Houston's atmospheric controls seemed to be having trouble keeping up with the combined body heat of ninety or so paratroopers that filled the room.

Most of whom joked, laughed and chatted among themselves as they waited for the briefing to begin. As is right on queue, John saw the familiar stature of the companies commanding officer, Captain Adam Garcia, take the rooms center podium. The myriad of chatter started to diminish as the Captain, an older and tanned skinned man, loudly cleared his throat into the podiums microphone.

"Gentlemen," He began, waiting for the chatter to subside before continuing. "At oh-nine-fortyfive hours yesterday the Commonwealth naval vessel HMS Indomitable detected a mass of unknown activity on this planet," the Captain tapped a small series of keys on the podiums touch pad and the image of a solar system filled the large LED screen behind him.

The image circled in red the third planet in the small five planet system, designating it 'S-42396-3'. "Ess four-two-three-nine-six dash three. Initial examination detected reactor signatures consistent with drive cores used by Breten Hvas affiliated pirate clans."

The image shifted again. This time to a colored satellite view of a region on the planets surface. The image was high altitude but John could make out what looked like buildings buried half inside a small rock outcropping.

"High altitude recon drone passes were able to locate and determine the energy signatures originating from this point" Captain Garcia continued.

The area that John had thought to be buildings was now being highlighted. The satellite view began to zoom in.

"Further analysis has confirmed that this is indeed some kind of outpost operated by a Breten Hvas affiliated gang."

The image pulled up a marking on one of the containers outside the outpost, showing clearly the scribbled hieroglyphs of the Breten Hvas insignia. The briefing screen once again pulled up an image. This time of one of the Breten Hvas guards. John thought they looked like somewhere in between a cross of a bird and a mantis. A small beak protruded from a rounded skull which housed four eyes.

Continuing down the neck met the body not unlike a praying mantis from earth. It had two long arms that ended with an almost sword like point. Each arm having about five fingers at the end for manipulation. The whole thing stood on four legs, but was however only about four feet tall altogether. It was a slim and apex hunter like frame. It was certainly alien to John. He snapped back to reality as Captain Garcia began again.

"Repeated drone passes have been able to determine their forces strength at about one hundred-fifty give or take. Ground penetrating radar has the whole complex only about two hundred meters into the rock face. Any questions so far?" Captain Garcia asked the room.

"Yeah" a voice chimed up. John really wasn't able to see who was speaking. "Why don't we just nuke 'em from orbit and be done with it?"

A smile crept along Garcia's face almost as if he had been anticipating this question.

"Because," The screen shifted to a different version of the recon photo and highlighted a new part of the image. It brought up a xeno, definitely not the Siven that made up the vast majority of the Breten Hvas slaver clans.

This one was tall and lanky. Its homeworld must likely be low G, John thought. It sported gray-brown skin, about four arms and four legs with a head that seemed to be on a swivel. John didn't recognize it in the slightest. "They have hostages."

John could hear most of his comrades stiffen. Hostages meant no nukes. No nukes meant ground operation. And that operation would be a rescue operation. Captain Garcia continued after a slight pause.

"We have no official estimate as to how many hostages they have. But at the end of the day it has been decided by the higher ups that they do not get to keep them."

Fucking slavers, John thought. Slavery was already a black mark in Earth history, wars had been fought over it. Just as Humanity as a whole thought they had overcome their past, the New Holland Incident had reopened those long thought closed wounds. The sacrifice of the HMS Battleaxe was the first, and only, tipping point that Humanity had needed to declare and intergalactic war on slavery.

"Which brings us to defenses." Garcia continued again, shifting the image to a more tactical overlay of the recon photo. "First analysis shows the main building complex to be lightly fortified. There appear to be two watch towers built into the rock face on opposite sides of the main building." The image enhanced to display them. They really were no more than a couple of domed walkways jetting out of the rock. The Hvas also appeared to have set up heavy guns of some kind in each tower. The image was shifted again.

"The enemy has also erected three medium sized bunkers facing each direction away from the rock face, encompassing the landing pad and main courtyard area of the outpost." The image enhanced for a final time. "Recon has also determined the presence of at least two assumed anti-air positions within the outpost perimeter. Comparison with similar known emplacement shows this model as being an inner atmosphere weapon with a limited range. So high altitude flights will be well out of their reach."

A hand popped up in the crowd. John recognized him as one of the newer recruits from second platoon. A Felix something-or-other. Captain Garcia motioned for him to speak.

"Do we know what the effective range is?" The man asked.

It was a solid question. They may not have been fly boys but they most certainly did their share of flying. It would be helpful as well if the Hvas decided to turn them groundwards as well.

"The gun shoots a canister that explodes at about fifteen hundred meters. They may have modified it. The canister explodes into a copper-tungsten shrapnel mix so keep an eye on your surroundings, I don't want anyone getting hit by these things. Any other questions?" Captain Garcia asked.

The room was silent. After a few moments Captain Garcia tapped the podiums touch pad again, bringing up another overlay.

"Alright then, on to operational deployment." The man said, continuing his previous formalized tone. "This is going to be a join Coalition Op." Some groans could be heard from the troopers. Captain Garcia ignored them and continued. "Right now we are heading to rendezvous with Commonwealth ship HMS Irwin and Union ship USS Jefferson where we will be taking on troops from ANZAC's Fifth Marine Expeditionary Force and US Army's Twentieth Light Mechanized Infantry. The game plan is as follows."

A region of the image became highlighted. "One hundred-fifth Airborne will insert via orbital drop at this location, five K south of the outpost. First Company will then proceed along this route to this elevated point two K from the outpost and establish a Forward Operating Base for our Forward Air Controllers. Once that is set Second and Third platoons will move southwest until they rendezvous with Fifth Marines. A detachment of Fifth Marines will have already linked up with the Twentieth Mechanized in the east. The main assault will begin once all units are set and Forward Air Control has confirmed and marked the enemy bunkers and anti-air.

"JDAMS will be dropped from orbiting A-100's who will provide close air support as needed. Operational objectives are to neutralize all threats and retrieve the hostages. ROE's are the same as normal, no firing on civilians unless they fire on you first, everything else is fair game. Questions?" The room was silent once again. "Alright, your platoon leads have all the necessary information. Get with them if you need to. Dismissed."

With that, First Company stood and began filing out of the auditorium. Not long after leaving John felt a pair of hands on his shoulders. He turned to see his squad mates Johan Washington and Neal Ford flanking him.

"No rest for the wicked, huh?" Johan said as he gave John a firm smack on the back.

"Fuckin' Aussies though man." Neal chirped in before John could speak. "They're always 'Fuckin Cunt' this and 'Fuckin Noice' that. Why don't we just use the marine detachment here on the Houston?"

"Politics." John was finally able to get in. "A Commonwealth ship found the place so they want ANZAC there to represent. Besides the grunts here are trained for ship to ship, not foot to ground."

This comment produced a small laugh from Neal.

"Don't want to get their precious gear all dirty. Oorah, huh?" Neal said as he made a mock marine style salute.

It was Johan's turn to laugh this time.

"Well at least the Yankee's you can understand. Similar history and all that,"

The group continued down the hall eventually turning into the common room that was set aside for the 105th. The room was filled with the indistinct chatter of his fellow paratroopers. John took a quick look around the room. There were a couple of new faces among the crowd.

New transfers, John thought. Such was life in the military. A sharp whistle followed by a yell caught his attention. John looked over to see his squad leader, Sergeant Robert Miller, beckoning him over. Johan, John and Neal quickly jogged over to meet him.

"What's up sarge?" Neal inquired.

"Deployment assignments." Sergeant Miller responded, handing each of them a tablet. "We'll be moving with the rest of First Platoon to meet up with the Aussies after they establish Forward Air Control."

John studied the pad. It had a location map with a GPS along with several general equipment and movement orders. That was when something caught his eye.

"I see we're using standard equipment, no hardsuits. The planets atmosphere is breathable?" John asked.

"Yeah it seems that way." Miller replied. "Intel says the planet had a terraforming project that went belly up about a century ago. Instead of packing up some alien bigwig decided it would be more cost effective to just leave everything half finished. Atmosphere has grown pretty decent in that time. Oxygen value is about seventy per cent that of Earth at point-eight gee. Much higher nitrogen values to C-O-Two, but such is the stuff of life. I think Intel said there are some very basic moss and lichen growing in patches on the surface."

"Planet should be a nice vacation spot in about three million years then." Neal said grinning.

"Don't reserve your condo just yet Ford." Miller said. "We still have to evict some deadbeats."

This produced a smirk from all three paratroopers.

"Deployment is at oh-six-hundred tomorrow." Miller said. "Get some chow and some rest and be geared up and in the bay by oh-four-hundred. I got to go round up the rest of you. Dismissed."

All three men gave a crisp salute and turned to leave the common room. John slipped the tablet into one of his uniforms side pockets and adjusted his patrol hat.

"So... Mess hall?" Neal asked pointing his fingers in the general direction.

John gave a sweeping hand motion that said 'lead on' and followed Neal and Johan down the corridor. The corridor was just as busy as it always was at this time. It was centered firmly inside the 'Ground Pounders' area of the ship. All that meant was that this hallway was the main access point to the barracks for the 105th and ship board marine detachment. There was also room for another unit and a half if need be. The armory and flight deck also had access points from this corridor.

The whole area was only slightly more full than normal. Marines and Troopers mingling in groups among themselves. A couple of naval crewmen in their recognizable navy blue and gray uniforms shuffled cautiously between the groups of ground pounders. Obviously trying not to attract attention. It wasn't uncommon to see crew from the Houston in this area, but as a general rule the regular naval crew tended to stay away.

Too much testosterone and bravado packed into a small tin can dulls the brain, they would say. John wasn't sure about the brain drain part, but there was something about being inside a vacuumed sealed titanium can. John had grown up under blue skies and warm light on Earth. The artificial lighting on board the Houston was just that, lighting. Not to mention the gravity. Artificial gravity, while a close approximation, had it's quirks.

It probably didn't help that it was a relatively new technology as well. Occasionally you would find yourself walking down a corridor, minding your own business in the standard 1 G when suddenly everything is lighter or worse, heavier. If you were really unlucky there wouldn't be anything at all. Zero G in a line across the hallway.

Of course you can't see it until you are in it, and by that time it's already too late. It had happened to John a few times. He would be minding his own business when suddenly he could feel himself in a line of Zero G. Usually the area effected was small, maybe a little less than half a meter. But it was still enough to cause your body's momentum to shift you forwards. At best it would trip you up, at worse it would cause you to fall flat on your face.

There was no sense in reporting it. The engineering teams would already know about it anyways. Anytime there was so much as a hiccup in the ships power network, a dozen different alarms would be going off to the engineers. Such is the necessity of redundancy. Fortunately John hadn't hit any Zero G pockets in quite some time. Could be that they were finally starting to get the system down.

The three Troopers arrived at the mess hall without much delay. It was a fairly massive room which could probably seat about 200 people at capacity. And by the look of it, it was getting pretty close. John and his squadmates grabbed some empty trays and got in line for the dispensers. The wait wasn't that long and before they knew it they were filling their trays with protein in all the flavors of the rainbow.

They had fake Spaghetti, fake chicken, fake beans... and oh hey, fake peach juice. John decided to indulge himself and grabbed some fake spaghetti with fake meatballs over fake sauce, some actual real toast, to his surprise, and a glass of peach juice. His comrades had already finished and were waving him over to their table.

Neal and Johan were already sitting with a couple of other troopers from his unit. John recognized some of them. Alfie Kenzington from First Platoon Bravo Squad, Romeo Garcia also First Platoon Bravo squad, and finally Sonja Ramirez from Second Platoon. John didn't know which squad she was from, but it didn't really matter.

Sonja was one of only five women in all of the 105th, and strictly off limits, as their commander liked to remind them. That was fine though, she wasn't really John's type anyways. It wasn't that she wasn't attractive, it was that she was one of them. A... sister-in-arms, and you don't do things like that with your sister.

"So what'd ya get?" Neal asked as John sat down next to him and Alfie.

"Faketti and pseudo-meatballs." John replied, feigning enthusiasm.

"Ah faketti, classic. Went with Faked Beans myself." Neal said, picking up a spoonful and shoving it in his mouth. "Really ish the besht kind of protein." He said, not bothering to swallow.

"Shut the fuck up Ford and eat your food! Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" John could hear Romeo say.

"Nah, she was too busy fuckin every guy who gave her a compliment. No time for teachin' the younguns when you have dicks to suck." Neal replied, shoving another spoonful in his mouth.

"Your family's fucked up man." Romeo said more as a general statement than anything else.

"That's why I got you guys right? To keep me on the straight and narrow." Neal said while putting his arms around both John and Johan shoulders, pulling them close to him.

"Yeah, just don't ask me to suck your dick." Romeo fired back once more.

"I wouldn't worry about it Garcia, you ain't got those dick sucking lips." John could hear Johan say.

Neal just shrugged and looked down towards Sonja. "Ramirez?" He asked coyly.

"Fuck off Ford." His reply came. "Not in your wildest dreams."

"Eh... at least I got my beans." Neal said, shoving another mouthful and chewing loudly.

John started to dig into his own meal. The 'faketti' looked about the same as it tasted. Like bland wet noodles in a bland sauce with something that might pass for meat. Not fantastic but you took what you could get when you were out in space.

Besides, the nutritional guides assured him that it had all the necessary protein, vitamins and fiber that his diet required. He guessed there was no accounting for taste. The toast was good though.

"So I heard the Aussies are on board." Alfie said, breaking the short silent between the troopers. "They're down in the deployment bay with the Yanks."

"Mmm," Sonja sighed contently. "I think I might try to pick me up a kiwi. Those accents of theirs makes me wet."

"Oh god Ramirez, I don't want to hear that!" John said, fork mid lift to his mouth.

"I do." Neal perked up. "Keep going."

Johan promptly gave Neal a punch in the shoulder, followed by a very curt 'ow' from him.

"So where are they bunking anyways?" Romeo asked, attempting to steer the conversation away.

"I dunno. I think just on the floor of the deployment bay." Alfie responded. "I don't think they saw a point of putting them up in the barracks since they are just going to be leaving tomorrow anyways."

"Alright!" Said Neal enthusiastically. "Camp out in the deployment bay! I'll bring the marshmallows. Won't be able to light a fire but there should be enough heat coming from between Ramirez's thighs that it shouldn't be a problem."

This caused another punch in the shoulder from Johan.

"Goddamn Ford, do you come with an off switch?" Romeo said as a chuckle escaped his lips.

"Haven't been able to find one yet, Sarge." Neal replied giving a big contented grin.

"Ya'll are just jealous I'm going to get laid tonight." Sonja said, picking up her tray and heading towards the recycler.

"Just don't get pregnant before drop time!" Neal began to yell as Sonja walked away, flipping him off as she went. "Orbital drops aren't good for babies! Also remember to wrap it before you tap it! And you can't get pregnant if it's in your throat! Ow! Fucker! That one actually hurt." Johan had punched him in the shoulder again, causing Neal to rub the assailed area profusely.

"You're going to get yourself in trouble one of these days." John said, giving him a punch on his shoulder as well for good measure.

"Yeah, yeah, it's all fun and games until you get stuck with a sexual harassment suit. You sound like my guidance councilor.."

John just shook his head. "She sounds like a reasonable lady, you should have listened to her."

"It was a him actually." Neal decided to point out, obviously ignoring the hint that he should shut up. "Very feminine and flamboyant. I think he was gay."

"Anyways," Romeo said once again attempting to change the subject. "What's up with these Aussies? I overheard that the Commonwealth insisted they be on the operation. What are they, some kind of Aussie space marine badasses?"

"Nah." Alfie replied, chewing through a piece of toast. "Apparently they have experience with similar raids on outposts used by the Hvas. Mostly in 'asset retrieval'." Alfie said with air quotes.