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The Heretic Part II

Posted on Mon Oct 12th, 2020 @ 10:13pm by Major Victor Madison

Mission: Gods of War
Location: Unnamed Town, Goylat

It had been a gruelling two weeks for the survivors of the USS Protector. The Dominion had picked them off in small groups, crisscrossing the planet in short sharp surgical strikes, dwindling the survivors numbers from a few hundred to just 12. Major Madison led the only surviving group.

On a cold winter night two weeks prior, his drop shuttle streaked through the sky leaving a burning trail of black acrid exhaust. They crashed landed, right smack bang in the middle of the town. There was zero chance of the prime directive being respected in this instance, and in hindsight, that was fortunate.

This town turned out to be relatively accepting of the extra-terrestrial strangers, and over the two weeks, the Starfleet marine unit had earned their respect and admiration. Not only had they fixed the damage they’d caused, but they had also protected them from the various assaults from Dominion search teams.

With their colleagues now nothing more than a tally on the First’s kill sheet, the Dominion had turned their sole attention to eliminating Madison’s unit, and Madison wasn’t going down without a fight.

The unit had set themselves up in an old fortified castle on the outskirts of the town, each Marine taking up a strategic unit to pick off the oncoming Dominion foot solider one by one. Or at least, that was the intention.

Madison’s two man reconnaissance team had returned, phaser rifles slung over their back, faces covered in dirt. Out of breath, they pushed through the doors of the makeshift command centre,

“Sir, they’re coming. And they’re coming big. A drop ship had just deployed a 100-man unit about 25 clicks out. At a steady pace, they’ll be here in 4 hours.”

Madison tossed his phaser across the table, “Shit. There is no way we can take that many out.”

He stood from the table, and turned to a young private, “Private Spartan, get down to the town hall, and tell the Mayor to evacuate her people. First Lieutenant Bell, notify the fire teams to prepare our countermeasures and get that phaser barrel up and running.”

In the far corner of the room, a large piece of equipment hummed away in the background. It’s display reading – ‘Secure Emergency Distress Call, Alpha Zeta Two Four’.

- 3 Hours Later

The Dominion had made good time, and had arrived at the outskirts of the town, and the fortified castle that Madison’s team called home, in a little under 3 hours. For the last 15 minutes they’d traded phaser fire across the grounds of the castle. The Marine snipers managed to keep the Dominion advance team from not getting much further than the perimeter fencing. Each defeat adding to the growing frustration amongst the Dominion ranks.

The First, contemplating his options decide that overwhelming numbers was the only way to successfully infiltrate the castle grounds. The casualties would be high, but they’d fulfil the Vorta’s wish to eliminate the remaining Federation troops. He rallied his men, arm raised high in the air, blaster pointing straight into the night sky.

“VICTORY IS LIFE” bellowed throughout the valley.

Madison glanced at the officers who were in his immediate vicinity and gave them a collective nod that could open fire. He, himself, raised his head out of cover and began letting off short sharp phaser shots at the oncoming fodder. “If this holds up,” he shouted between shots, “we won’t hold out very long.”

If Madison had been a religious man, this would have been the moment that reaffirmed his faith. As if the deity themselves had heard his words and taken action, there was a chirp from the emergency transmitter followed by a chirp from his own combadge, “Minerva to Starfleet survivors, do you read? I repeat, this is the USS Minerva to Starfleet survivors, do you read?”


-- To Be Continued,

Major Victor Madison,

apb Nixon



 

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