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Tales from the Hearth Star: Battle for Lighthouse Station

By Psion

All Rights Reserved

Normally General Carbloat didn't leave his office on Fort Pork Barrel but normally the lower-ranked members of Star Corps didn't have to deal with things like the stingers' nest the Wuffs stirred up with the humans. Besides, Hughes always said he spent too much time in the office anyway. So once he received word of what the Star Corps found when they seized Trade Station Wannabang, he assumed command of the first available troop carrier, assembled a contingent of fresh Troopers ready for a fight, and took off for the trade station. Part of him hoped that the engineering team had exaggerated their report about finding an old Carrion-class freighter converted into a troop ship and was loaded with arms and armor manufactured for an unidentified species. But while he was in transit, a combat mechanic assigned to the Corps squad left to guard the station managed to crack the encryption on the ship's computers and uncover a treasure trove of data that was promptly transmitted to him. After reviewing the data, there was no doubt left in the general's mind, the humans had managed to put together a crude if functional warship. Also after reviewing the data, he discovered the location of a human colony hidden somewhere not too far away from Wannabang. Picking up the squad and transmitting the coordinates to Bargebottom, he took off for Space Station Lighthouse. Hopefully he was being overly cautious but here on the fringe of the Galactic Republic, it was better to be prepared for anything. An attitude that unfortunately would pay off once again once they dropped out of hyperspace.

The armored rhino anthro watched the displays on the tactical computer as he sat on the bridge of the Star Corps troop carrier Liberty's Bastion as they arrived out of hyperspace within hailing distance of the human orbital colony… and roughly half a dozen Wuff ships bent on preventing the humans from establishing a safe haven outside of the Hearth Star. All of them boarding vessels loaded with boarders, the general was quick to notice. He was also quick to note the construction of the human colony, something that looked like it would quickly become useful.

In hindsight it shouldn't have surprised him to find that the human refuge was originally a GalRep civilian station at one point, the vagrant species were still limited to scavenging and refurbishing what they found when it came to large-scale constructions. A large, cylindrical design with a rotating habitation module for simulating gravity before the Galactic Republic perfected artificial gravity generators, Carbloat was surprised to see such an old model still in service especially this far away from the Republic core. Still, if it really was a Republic design, it should still respond to the Corps command codes.

“Open a channel with the station's command module and see if our codes will allow us to access internal communications." He ordered and soon wished he hadn't or at least that the ship's computer wasn't able to translate the human languages so easily as the bridge was soon filled with radio chatter from the station…

“This is Lighthouse Control to all Lighthouse station inhabitants, we have boarders in Industrial sectors Material Storage, Fabrication, and Waste Reprocessing. All non-militia get to the nearest shelter immediately. I repeat, we have numerous boarders, all non-SDF militia get to the nearest shelter."

“This is Lighthouse Alpha, we're getting hammered o-OH GOD THEY'RE EVERYWHERE! FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!" One squad leader screamed, his chatter punctuated by gunfire and beastly growls.

“This is Lighthouse Bravo, we just evacuated the school house, the residential level above Waste Processing is now clear. Encountering multiple hostiles… Jesus where did the Wuffs get all these things? It's like they dumped a whole fucking zoo on us." A second squad leader reported before talking to the rest of her team. “Aim for the heads, we don't have enough ammo to waste on body shots!"

“I've heard enough." Carbloat grumbled darkly before speaking into the station's communication network. “This is General Carbloat of the Star Corps, fighting arm of the Galactic Republic, can you hear us?"

Like that, the human chatter went dead for a moment then finally a male voice spoke over the audio channel. “This is Chief Engineer Briggs, acting governor of Lighthouse. I swear to God if this is someone's idea of a joke…"

“It is not a joke, I have with me a contingent of fifty Star Corps troopers with me."

“That's it, whoever hacked this channel is fucking dead." Briggs replied and locked Carbloat out of the internal communications. Clearly the chief engineer didn't believe in miracles.

The immense commander of the Star Corps shook his head, very well then if that was how it would have to be. “Find us a hanger or a docking ring near the fighting and prepare to bring us aboard." He ordered the helm before turning to address the troopers on board the base ship. “This is General Carbloat to all Star Corps troopers on board, in under ten minutes we will be docking with a combat zone. The orbital colony Lighthouse has a beast problem; multiple unknown lifeforms were smuggled aboard the station by the Wuffs are attacking the station inhabitants. This also is the first time the Star Corps will be fighting alongside a previously unknown species. Calls themselves 'humans', primate descendents and the current station inhabitants. You'll recognize them easy; they're the only creatures on the stations with guns other then us. Gear up for Ship and Station combat and report to your squad leader in the deployment bay, in eight minutes we wade out." Carbloat briefed before signing off, time to get ready himself.

Elsewhere in the mobile Star Corps field base, a diverse crowd of portly space marines armored up in their elastic battle dress or picked up an allotted BFS and checked the enormously oversized drum-fed magazine one last time as they waited in the deployment bay. The Big Fracking Shotgun, a heavy semi-automatic shotgun used for boarding actions, was a large, brutish gun loaded with a weighty box magazine and chambered for a twelve-gauge shotgun shell. Effective against flesh but significantly less so against metal, it was the ideal weapon for shredding enemy boarders without blowing large holes in the potentially flimsy station hull of Lighthouse. And with the known potential for collateral, it was preferred over the Corps' traditional BFR.

Mess Sergeant Crem and Lieutenant Bakin stood in the deployment bay with the other early arrivals as they waited for the rest of their squad to pull in. The two militant females clad in elastic olive green body armor looked at one another silently at first, both of them had gone their own separate ways in the Star Corps since the battle for Verda-4, the fight to take over the Wuff station Wannabang was the first time the two of them had worked together since then. Though as Crem was quick to discover, not much had changed with Bakin.

“Hoo-rah, finally more action! Wannabang was too long ago." The Porceen sow smiled gleefully and thumped her large pork belly aggressively, wobbling her gut like an enormous bowl of gelatin. Already pretty paunchy when Crem first met her, the combat medic's abdomen had only gotten wider since the two of them fought on Verda-4. Though Crem had gotten pretty big if she were honest with herself, becoming one of the proud tank asses of the Corps. But then the Bov maiden's strong girth also didn't come from lifting weights and hitting the buffet on a string of coreward postings like Bakin had enjoyed. Every ounce of Crem's “steak and shake" was the final resting place of various space monsters that thought they could munch on some frontier colonists and learned too late just how tasty they were with some light seasoning.

“Wannabang wasn't even a week ago." The Bov replied somewhat dejectedly, hand brushing her shoulder where a cartoon Jelly Bug head was painted on the polymer plate. To some, the insignia of the “Bug Eaters" was a badge of honor, to Crem it was an unspoken promise… that quickly became a bit of a private sore point between her and Bakin after the two got caught up after the fight to capture Wannabang.

“Hell yeah but still that's too long without some fighting. No Wuffs, no crazy space monsters to carve up and throw on the grill. Just the four of us standing around and looking busy while Corporal Donka fiddled with that weird modded space ship the Wuffs were trying to chop up on Wannabang. Where is our Vul combat mechanic anyway?"

“Right here." Called a voice from behind the two females. Turning around slowly to face this welcomed distraction, the red-haired bovine mess sergeant was grateful she didn't have to swallow another urge to punch Bakin in the jaw. Standing between privates Guts and Hammerhead, two rhino-men riflemen from planet Ivor-3, was Corporal Donka. The vulpine Vul vixen with sandy tan fur, dark blue hair, and big ears smiled back at both of them behind the crimson visor of her standard issue helmet. Her elastic motorized BDU was stretched taut over her jutting bubble butt and thunderous thighs, a heavy pack full of tools and ammunition on her back and a BFS in her hands, she was as ready to go as the rest of them.

Bakin looked like she was about to say something but then the Liberty's Bastion shuddered as it began to go through combat landing procedures and the squads formed up around their leaders. The rest of the ship's combat crew quickly filled into the bay only to be followed by General Carbloat himself. Crem couldn't help but always be in awe of the general. An immobile mountain of a trooper largely confined to an armored modular hover sofa currently configured for combat, the general's bulk belied a sharp tactical mind and a sharper appetite. There was a rumor that once even a whole Orion Terrosaur had met its end squished inside the general's gut and after seeing Carbloat's bulk and appetite for herself, the Mess Chef could believe it.

The base ship shuddering one last time as it went through the final automatic landing procedures brought Crem back to the present just in time for the deployment bays to open up on another battlefield. Time to try and make a difference once again…

Lighthouse Alpha was doomed. The squad was trapped down in Fabrication, out of ammunition, badly harried, and down to Wuff power blades and swords hammered out of scrap metal. And It was still Out There. Slightly larger then a man and looking like a cross between a spider and a four-armed humanoid, the Wuffs had obviously dumped this thing on them with the idea of using it to weaken resistance for them. A good idea, Marco the leader of Lighthouse Alpha considered, except that the Wuffs clearly banked on the humans being able to kill it so they wouldn't have to deal with it afterwards. With their blades drawn and breaths stilled, the five humans stood and listened to the sounds of the maze of deactivated manufacturing machinery surrounding them. Even when they weren't under attack the factory didn't see much use, much of the equipment was taken when the original owners left and what was left was either broken, missing components, or had functions the new occupants couldn't even guess at. The few machine shops and foundries the humans set up in their stead were powered down, their precious energy rerouted to external defenses and bolstering security systems. Shame the lights weren't high on the priority list, they'd definitely have to fix some of those flickering bulbs once this was over.

With little left that was on, there was little to listen for except for the hum of power conduits, the wheezing artificial breeze of the life-support system, the growl of the spider creature from somewhere out of sight, the high pitched turbines whining as a space ship landed in the freighter bay normally reserved for raw material deliveries… hold on, a space ship? Marco looked to the others to make sure he wasn't hearing things. The others looked back at him with what he assumed was the same expression on his face. Finally Athena, the squad's melee expert, nodded her helmeted head. No, he was not imagining things. Maybe it was the Wuffs coming to clean up, maybe it was that guy Marco heard over the comm., the one that Briggs thought was a prankster, and there was some hope after all.

Quietly motioning for the others to move out, Marco led the rest of his squad through the dizzying maze of workshops and abandoned machinery towards the freighter bay. Behind them, out of sight but definitely not out of hearing, the creature stalked the five humans. Every so often, for a fleeting second or two, Marco thought he'd see the thing skitter into the shadows and then it was gone. Unless they found some additional ammunition, they were definitely going to have to try and trick that thing into following them into one of the narrow corridors connecting this cavernous sector with the others. With the thing climbing on the walls and ceiling plus whatever else it could do, giving it less room to maneuver seemed like their only option.

The freighter bay was slightly smaller then the other industrial sectors, designed for the speedy delivery of raw materials and rapid loading of finished goods to and from the rest of the industrial level. It was still about the size of a football field and yet somehow just barely large enough for the large, boxy ship currently parked in the bay. Lighthouse Alpha arrived just in time for the large bay doors on the bottom of the vessel to open up and reveal dozens of olive-clad blubbery behemoths cradling comically oversized weapons. Behind Alpha the spider beast growled ominously close, not a single human dared look behind them before running towards the arriving fatfur soldiers then diving behind cover.

Crem's squad was the first to lumber out onto the besieged space station, blasting the Rigo Spider Beast's face with a barrage of heavy shotgun pellets. One, two, three blasts later, each of them taking a chunk off of the creature's head, the Spider Beast fell over in a decapitated heap.

“Alright, they brought us dinner. I love Spider Beasts, they remind me of those poultry birds from Fole-7." Bakin crooned over the squad chatter.

“Come on Bakin, how are we supposed to introduce these humans to GalRep cooking if we eat all the ingredients?" Crem replied with a laugh that was somewhat forced.

“Valid point Sergeant." Came General Carbloat's voice over the general communications as the rest of the troopers filed out and secured the landing area. “Troopers, try to aim for the head and keep the snacking down to a minimum. There will be time for chow later." The general ordered as his immense frame rolled out on his tank-like hover sofa.

The human squad had since disappeared, slipping away in the firefight with the Spider Beast, almost certainly reporting the arrival of the Star Corps to their comrades. An assumption that was soon confirmed when Carbloat received a familiar voice on his communications.

“This is Chief Briggs, acting governor of Lighthouse, to unidentified military force. State your identity and intentions."

Carbloat smiled and laughed as he replied and looked up at one of the hanger cameras. “Chief Briggs, we already had this conversation before. I am General Carbloat, leader of the Star Corps and one of several people that wish to speak with your people on behalf of the Galactic Republic. As for my intentions, I wish to help you take back this station so we can have that conversation in peace."

“So you really are Star Corps? Damn and I thought the Guilders and that GAS mink were joking with us when they said you were just as big as the rest of them. Well… you're here and we're currently getting our asses kicked so I guess we'll see how well you guys fight." Briggs replied, still sounding skeptical but at the same time appearing to be a man that was rapidly running out of options.

“What's the situation then?" Carbloat asked as he brought up a map of the station on his hover sofa's integrated computer.

“The situation is that a small group of Wuffs, some kind of beast tamers, managed to board the station and have the Industrial level overrun with a whole freaking zoo of things that we can't identify. We got a couple different big critters like that spider thing you killed plus a swarm of some kind of bug, a big bulbous thing about the size of a forklift and wobbling with some kind of jelly. And then there's a couple packs of this other thing… some weird tentacle beast that looks like some sort of amphibian. And I only have three squads of five guys apiece. Lighthouse Alpha, who you just saw, is running back to get more munitions while Bravo and Charlie are pinned down on the residential level above you, trying to keep the space bugs and the pack away from the hospital and the bunker network hub."

“Bunker network?" Carbloat asked, directing squads to move out to try and sweep the rest of the immediate area for additional hostiles and for lifts up to the next level.

“We built a series of panic rooms and bunkers through out the main occupied areas of the station for things like this, connected them together with narrow maintenance tunnels for quick escapes and resupply. The area Lighthouse Charlie is covering is a major connection point. We lose that and the whole system becomes worthless."

The general made a note of that for several reasons. “Have they tried attacking the reactor or life support yet?"

“Not yet but it's a moot point at this stage. Bravo's only at a quarter strength while Charlie's running out of bullets and pretty much pinned by the bugs."

“Alright, thank you Chief Briggs." Carbloat replied before turning back to his troopers. “Gamma Squad, secure the perimeter around our ship. Alpha and Beta, take Fabrication. Delta, with me in Material Storage. Push through any hostiles you encounter and try to make your ways up to the residential levels. Once there, connect with the local militia and keep the Wuffs and their pets from trying to overrun their positions. All right, you have your orders. Move out!" The armored rhino barked before floating in the direction of Material Storage with a squad of lumbering troopers surrounding him. Time to see what the Wuffs put on the mess menu…

Crem led her squad through Fabrication, finding the factory sector surprisingly empty. Small, prefabricated buildings housing rudimentary workshops and abandoned machinery were scattered far apart, large dark swaths of deck space dominated most of the level. Still, one good thing of all this open ground was that it was nearly impossible for anything to sneak up on them; especially something as big as the roaring Terrosaur that had somehow found its way into the sparse industrial complex. Unfortunately for the nine-foot tall fire-bellowing behemoth, he was also hard to miss for two squads of Corps troopers. Weapons fire echoed through the sector as BFS's tore off chunks of the spikey bipedal creature's face and upper torso. The Mess Chef felt it was a shame to waste even that much good meat by shredding it with a shotgun but it had to be done, Terrosaurs were dangerous especially for people that only had smaller caliber firearms like the humans. Unfortunately the noise seemed to only attract more predators looking to pick off the winner and eat a free meal.

Landing down on the empty deck floor with a weighty thud of flesh pounding against metal, the hunting pack of Amphs regarded the fat space marines with a quick glance before bounding off again in attempt to surround them. Slimy tentacles flicked menacingly at the olive-clad troopers as the toothy frogs snapped threateningly at them.

“Ooooh, Amphs." Donka cooed gleefully. Only a Vul would be excited about tentacles, Crem decided with a shake of her head as they defended themselves from the six hopping predators. A skillful shot from both riflemen took out two Amphs almost immediately, the mess sergeant carving up a third that tried to take a bite out of her with her combat chef vibro-blade. And then there was Donka…

The Vul combat mechanic, her stride augmented by the micro-servos woven into the nano-fabrics that made up her standard issue battle dress, leapt up and landed ass-first atop a charging Amph. The frog-like creature croaked and flailed as it suddenly found itself becoming a seat for a massive vulpine rump. Sensing its packmate was in trouble, another Amph attempted to ensnare Donka with its tentacles. Grabbing the vulpine trooper by the arm, the medium-sized predator attempted to yank her into its expansive toothy maw. Donka yanked back and shot a round of buckshot at her attacker, dragging the beast towards her own toothy maw where she started to give the feral predator a luxurious tour of a STOUT-enhanced digestive system. Three huge gulps later, Donka slurped up the last bite of prey with a mouthful of tentacles and an audible belch. Lumbering to her feet with a belly bloated with fresh prey, the tan-furred vixen stomped on the other Amph's head with a weighty smash of her armored greave as the rest of the troopers quickly cleaned up.

The Amph pack killed, Crem motioned for her squad to move on. Already the cleanup from this battle was looking like it take a few good hours but at least the cookout they'll have at the end was going to be nothing short of legendary…

Carbloat had to privately admit to a bit of nerves when he saw the state of the battle going on outside of the shelters keeping the station's civilian population safe from the boarders. Jelly Bugs, not quite as far as the eye could see but definitely more then enough to give the general pause. Perhaps there was some truth to Lt. Jerky's limited observations on the Hearth Star after all. Even if Jerky's information was wrong, dumping a small swarm of jelly bugs on a civilian population was a new low even for the Wuffs.

Lighthouse Charlie had just been reinforced by the two CQC specialists of Lighthouse Alpha by the time Carbloat and the troopers of Delta squad arrived to provide support. Big Fracking Shotguns belched volleys of fire into the oncoming swarm of Jelly Bugs as the humans rallied to defend their home. Out of ammo except for one that would later come to stand out in the general's mind, the humans drew a dizzying collection of melee weapons and readied to engage the bulbous bugs in close-quarters combat. Salvaged Wuff power blades, utility machetes that were clearly scavenged from a forgotten Star Corps supply dump, and swords that were clearly made by the humans themselves were readied as the station's defenders summoned a level of courage that even the Star Corps were impressed by.

Of the seven humans that stood with them, the two that would come to stand out in the gluttonous general's mind was one the other humans called “Athena" and a sharpshooter that didn't say much. A petite black haired female that looked barely buff enough to fight in the heavy scraps of metal fashioned into the crude suit of plate mail clad to her body, Athena somehow wore her armor with a grace and agility that Carbloat thought only the Wuffs were capable of. Wielding a reforged long sword that glowed with the energy field of a Wuff powerblade and a round ovoid shield with a suspiciously Medivos style, Athena regarded the encroaching swarm of jelly bugs with a cruel smile.

The other human was a woman cradling a scoped marksman rifle and wearing a harness with a set of battery chargers and four laser derringers, other then that she was dressed in nothing more protective then a sleeveless shirt, some sort of civilian shoes, and a pair of worn denim pants. This other female remained unflinching as she picked off jelly bugs one at a time with her rifle. Not even remotely the most efficient way of killing them but the general definitely had to admire her marksmanship. A tattoo on her shoulder of a circle divided into two teardrop-shaped halves of white and black respectively also caught the general's eye. He remembered reports of a female gladiator, a veteran of the Hearth Star's combat arena, with a similar mark on her shoulder. Something to inquire about later…

The general's own mounted weapons quickly joined in once he finished surveying the situation, semi-automatic BFS cannons cut a swath of dead, twitching bugs as Carbloat nudged his armored hover sofa just slightly ahead of the line of marshaling humans. Had to be careful with the next weapon he had in mind, he hadn't made a mistake with it yet but the Feed-o-tron 9000 was not a precise weapon either. With a furious whine that the less technologically advanced humans may have confused with a jet engine, the Feed-o-tron roared to life, sucking up jelly bugs and grinding them into a delicious, sweet slurry before pumping said slurry into Carbloat's open mouth. The Star Corps general chugged like a champion as a noticeably solid lump began to form in his already blimp-like stomach. A bit hypocritical given what he had said earlier but with the sheer number of jelly bugs on the field, there would still be plenty to stuff both his troopers and the humans they were rescuing after he ate his fill.

Carbloated continued to balloon outward inside his sturdy, long-suffering hover sofa, sinking slowly to the ground as the iron gut rhino reached his limit. Jelly sloshed inside of him as the FoT9000 was shut off and the mop up began in earnest. Ten, ten bugs ground to jelly and currently wobbling around inside his gut, not his personal best but still pretty good for not having taken command from the field for a long time. Elsewhere Mess Sergeant Crem and Lt. Bakin radioed that the hospital had been secured. The invaders had been beaten back and the colony was safe. All that was left now was to grill up all those dead space beasts and celebrate yet another victory for the Star Corps….