The Shattered Stars: Breach of Contract

by Vance Huxley

  “Right, that’s enough or I’ll have to arrest you all, and shoot you while attempting to escape to keep your mouths shut.” Sarge got all the attention. Bobby considered going for his carbin but if he hit metal, Sarge had all those shotguns.

  “That’s right, Beebi, you’ll die if you try.” Shite! “Now this is why you’ll all live if you’re as bledrin sneaky as I reckon, and have just a bit of luck.” Sarge picked up a shotgun, broke it and slid two cartridges in. “This is a Frog shotgun. Once it’s empty, chuck it away among the bodies. As long as it isn’t clutched in your fat fist when that dick arrives, you’re clean.”

  Bobby stared, astounded. Sarge must be bloody, red-eyed, fighting mad! He always called the dick by his rank!

  “The same with these. You won’t know but these are Frog grenades, taken from Frog Supers. First off you’re wrong, Beebi, it won’t blow the wall down but if you chuck it in through the window it’ll frag everyone inside. Duck though because if you’re peeking you’ll lose your head.”

  “Peeking? I’ll be nowhere near! We can’t get up that close Sarge! Not with the bledrin lights!” Siflis started wringing his hands, probably to stop himself from going for Sarge, and Bells had started with the knuckles again.

  “Don’t get ‘em twisted, Siflis. If you use that little wire of yours nobody will see you until you knock knock.” Sarge made a knocking motion with the grenade. “That light will go out before you start, because not everyone is such a crap shot as Beebi. Now, for the top prize, what’s this?”

  “Telescope, a very small fat one?”

  “No Fenton, it’s a night sight. This is what a Squaddie puts on his rifle before he sticks it out of the window and blows yon sniper’s head off. The trouble is there’s no Squaddie or rifle to go with it because we can’t bring up a Squaddie unless the Frogs use the Legion. In fact, this has to go back home tomorrow so you all forget you ever saw it.” Nobody spoke but the question was in four pairs of eyes.

  “The reason you saw it is so you believe the next bit. The sight is why I know where their lookouts are, but even better than that I can tell Siflis where the Frog forward post is.” Siflis perked up. “Now all of you have a little peek through it, right at that mound there with the weeds and no grass.” They all did and the mound jumped out and seemed to smack Bobby in the eye, though that did mean he could see the Frog helmet through the weeds. Sarge took the sight back and put it away.

  “Why should we kill him? They’ll put out a new spotter.”

  “To cover an attack, Beebi. You Timers won’t realise but the last Super, the bledrin dick, screwed the pooch well and truly. Lining nearly all you Timers up in that open ground for a bledrin parade at nine every morning meant the Frogs knew when to attack and capture yon flats. Now this dick thinks he’ll make a name for himself by taking them back.” Bobby heard the sheer contempt in Sarge’s voice, and remembered wondering how stupid the last Super had to be to blow himself up in the bogs with his own grenade. The grenade bouncing up and down in Sarge’s hand gave a big hint.

  Bells said what they all thought. “We’ll get slaughtered running uphill over the open ground.”

  “The attack goes in at four, because somebody has been reading books that tell him it’s the best time. The trouble is that the Frogs have the same book. Why do you think we stand to at oh three fifty?” Four heads nodded in understanding. “Well so do the Frogs. But because of the attack we’ll all be in the trenches by oh three hundred, and the Frogs won’t. All clear so far?”

  They nodded because it was, but still suicide because of the lamps illuminating all that open ground, one from each front line. “Somebody suggested that if we borrowed a lamp from the refinery, one of the big ones, it would blind the Frogs during the charge. The same person didn’t point out that the Frogs would open up on full auto and blow it away, along with whatever eedjit is charging over the open ground.”

  “Oh shite.” Bobby shrugged when Sarge glared, how much worse could it get?

  Then Sarge smiled, which might be nastier than his glare. “At oh three oh five some bledrin fool will trip over the switch and turn it on, just after the Frog light is shot out. The Frogs should all be looking this way to see why we shot their light. They’ll get an eyeful of very bright lamp before they open up and blow it out. Go on Beebi, because you’ve got it.”

  Yes, Bobby could already see what that meant! “If our mob have their heads down they’ll be safe, but the Frogs will have spots before the eyes. So if we sneak out there just then, we’ve got a chance to get to the forward post. Won’t they send for different sentries? You know, because they can’t see properly?”

  “Would you wake up the Supervisor because they’d shot out our light and we’d shot out theirs, especially after the muzzle blasts show absolutely nobody with even their head up on our side? When nobody is even firing back? When you knew there was less than an hour before stand-to when he’d be up anyway?” All four Timers shook their heads, slowly. Not a chance, the basted dick would put you on the Gaza Taxi for a stunt like that. Sarge seemed sure the Frog Supers were the same and Bobby began to think he might live until morning.

  But only for a few moments. Sarge started drawing in the dirt on the shed floor. “Look here, this is the block of flats along the hill.” He stabbed a finger in two lower windows and two upper. “That’s where the sentries are, and the quick response squads will be in there with them. That’s so that the sentry can rouse them without us knowing, just the same way we do it.” The Timers looked at each other. Four windows and four grenades.

  “Why the shotguns Sarge? Why not chuck and run?”

  “Good question Siflis, there’s hope for you yet. You kill the sentries before tossing the grenades in so no smart basted chucks it back. The shooting will also help with awkward questions about grenades, like how come all the Frogs committed suicide for no reason. If there’s shooting then it’ll look like a bit of mutiny or panic, or near enough to keep you four safe.”

  “Safe?”

  Sarge ignored Bells. “If there’s no glass or the window is open, use flechettes to shoot the guard and save the shotguns for later. If there’s glass it’ll break close up but deflect the flechettes, so use the shotguns. I’ll tell the Super the guards must have had grenades and dropped them when they were killed. He’ll be so pleased that his attack worked he’s not going to be really thinking anyway but for that to happen we have to take the flats.”

  “What? Four of us?” Bobby stared, gobsmacked. Up to now there’d been an outside chance of living, but now Sarge wanted four of them to capture a block of bledrin flats?

  “No, you sodin Homer. As soon as the grenades go off, even if it’s only one, I’m going to shout charge and so will the two Corporals and a few others. Since all the Timers will be wound up and ready, they’ll go. They’ll be told not to shoot, but that won’t stop some of them. Your best chance of surviving is to go through a window, any window, and get to the back of the block.”

  “What about the rest of the Frogs in there.” Bobby grinned. “They’ll be upset so we’ll need a few more grenades and more shotgun ammo.”

  “Nice try. There won’t be many Frogs since you’ll have killed the night guards and emergency squads. If you set up where you can see rest of the Frogs coming across the road from their barracks, you can use the shotguns to break them. They’ll be all bunched up, running to reach their positions and coming in fat, stupid and half awake. Chuck the shotguns as soon as they’re empty. Then use your flechettes to keep their heads down because our lads will be there as fast as I can chase them.”

  “So why? If we’ve got to take the flats anyway why are we risking the sneaking, why the grenades and stuff?”

  Bobby looked at Bells in disbelief. “Because the other way at least half the mob will be shot crossing the gap, you eedjit. Sarge doesn’t want…” Bobby realised what he’d been going to say, and remembered how many times Sarge said the sooner they were all dead the sooner he’d get back to r
eal work. Then he remembered the Super ordering the parade to run forward into the flats and recapture them even though the Frogs were already inside and shooting, and Sarge ordering everyone to retreat to these houses. The Super had threatened Sarge with a firing squad for that, just before getting careless with a grenade.

  “If you repeat that, you won’t need a Gaza Taxi to get to hell because where there’s four of these, there might be five. If one of you breathes a word about me caring how many Timers get shot, you’d better check real careful before you sit down anywhere.” All four looked somewhere else, not at the metal ball bouncing in Sarge’s hand. “Now here’s your first lesson in how to avoid blowing your bledrin hand and head off.”

  * * *

  Bobby looked at the lines of shadow and the hollows and stunted vegetation between him and the carefully hidden forward Frog lookout. He laid in their own forward lookout post, crowded with five in cover meant for one or two. A new lookout position because two sentries had been shot in the previous one by the Frog sniper, so that spot wasn’t much of a secret.

  The bodies had been a mess, or the heads were. The bullet must be huge but Sarge swore it wasn’t from a rifle. A shotgun could shoot a bullet that big but Sarge reckoned nobody could shoot that straight with one. Well at least one Frog could. Bobby hoped the sniper stayed tucked up in his bunk fast asleep right now. He smiled. If not, hopefully the basted spent his nights in one of those four ready squad rooms.

  A tap on his ankle told Bobby to put his face down to the ground and shut his eyes. Five minutes to go and time to make sure of his night vision. The dark glasses had helped but now their squad and no doubt a few other Timers needed to get used to real darkness. Bobby tried to count but his mind kept skittering off to the hard lump on his thigh and the wrapped bundle across his back. Even the sentry, especially the sentry, couldn’t be allowed to see the shotguns or grenades.

  Bobby really hoped none of his group were killed or badly wounded short of the flats, or the Super would know they’d all been carrying Frog gear. When Sarge left them for a while all four had made a promise. If they were hit bad, they’d chuck the shotgun and then the grenade, and hope the bomb went far enough not to kill the thrower. Sarge had been clear about the range of grenades and warned them not to use the bledrin thing in the open. Otherwise it would kill the eedjit who threw it which explained why they were used from trenches and houses.

  Even with his eyes shut, Bobby could tell when the Frog light went out. The accountants would be stoked about that because the Frogs would break something in return, and a loss of equipment cost hard creds. Bobby put his eyes into his arm because there would be a brighter light any time now and it worked because he never saw the glow. He heard the storm of carbin fire from the Frogs and someone tapped Bobby’s shoulder. Only the sentry, but he jumped a mile and heard a quiet snigger from someone.

  As they slipped out of the sentry post Bobby realised how hard this would be if he hadn’t sorted his eyes out. The Super had picked a moonless night, or probably Sarge had because the dick couldn’t find his own with both hands. Bobby heard Bells curse quietly as a narrow beam of light came from one of the Frog flats and played over the open ground. A rattle of carbin fire came from the UKs lines while the four of them froze and hugged the ground, then the hand torch went out. Sarge had it covered. He’d found someone who could shoot a bit just as promised.

  The crawl seemed to take forever but eventually they’d moved level with and then behind the slight hump covered in straggly weeds. The buzzer strapped to Bobby’s leg only vibrated twice so in reality they’d only taken ten minutes. Three of them unwrapped their shotguns while Siflis unwound his wire, pulled his bayonet with a blackened blade in case there were two sentries, and slid away towards the Frog outpost. If anyone raised the alarm all of them were going to charge, because going back meant either a sentry or Sarge would shoot them. With a bit of luck, the shotguns would keep Frog heads down and they’d get near enough for the grenades.

  Bobby lost him even if he knew where Siflis should be, the little sod had disappeared. Siflis reckoned he could do this because he used to sneak around in the dark with a wire though not after sentries. Siflis ended up in court and ‘volunteered’ to be here because the park owners weren’t happy to find a scrawny Pleb strangling a deer, a deer kept for upper management to shoot when they fancied a break from pooching some Pleb workforce somewhere. Siflis reckoned he’d done it for years before they caught him. His Dad taught him, before Dad’s luck ran out. Some Senior Group Manager or Director shot a deer one night and found it didn’t have horns and Siflis reckoned the basted probably still had Dad’s head mounted on a wall.

  Thinking about that kept Bobby from chewing his nails down to his knuckles until the shadows by the Frog sentry post moved. A faint thud followed by what might have been a grunt disturbed the silence and two shadows merged. A faint scratching noise and a gurgling followed, though Bobby barely heard them even though he’d been listening. A light showed, just a glow, and without his night vision Bobby wasn’t sure he’d have seen it even though the tiny bulb aimed right at him. This time Bobby saw Siflis coming because the ex-poacher only stayed out of sight of the Frog flats.

  The third vibration on Bobby’s leg came and went while that happened so there were less than ten minutes left because Sarge would launch the attack at half past anyway. He wanted the mob up and moving before the stand-to Frogs were awake and in position. That felt strange, having the whole attack explained upfront instead of being told to go here, shoot there, charge now, sleep now.

  Siflis brought a sentry’s helmet and now he put it on. The little sod smiled because they could see his teeth gleam, and he put his mouth to Bobby’s ear. “Just in case someone sees us coming because this way I’ll be challenged, not shot. Then I’ll shoot the Frog and we go for it. It’ll sound like he shot at me.” His teeth gleamed again because Siflis also had both sentries’ carbins and belts full of flechette clips!

  It didn’t really matter, Bobby realised. They could only be executed once for either the shotgun or the grenade anyway, so another weapon didn’t matter but it still gave him a shock. The Frog weapons sounded enough different for even Timers to know, so Siflis made sense. Bobby took a carbin and belt, passed the idea to the others as Siflis headed off, then followed the ex-poacher.

  One by one they followed, and now Siflis moved much faster. In the last decent hollow they paused while everyone checked their shotgun and carbin, and the grenade of course. Seven seconds, because the Frogs made their grenades a second less to catch out any Britz who captured one. All four knew which window to take and from here they could tell which had glass. Siflis would go last because his lay straight ahead and across clear, flat concrete, but without glass in the window and the little poacher smiled and patted the Frog carbin. The sneaky sod had been right to snatch the weapons.

  Bells had an upstairs window with glass. He had started cracking his bledrin knuckles again. Bobby tapped the Timer’s leg and Bells jumped, then settled. Bobby tapped one barrel of the shotgun, holding up one finger until Bells nodded and scowled. In this state Bells might let both go, and they might need the other barrel later. Fenton looked over and smiled, sticking up one finger in confirmation rather than an insult because he had the other upstairs window, and that also had glass.

  Sarge had hammered that in; one barrel is enough to kill any one man, and Bobby believed him because he’d seen Sarge use his shotgun on a Frog attack. They all set off and Bobby made it to the wall of the block, then moved up next to his window. There he waited, because they had to all go together. For the fiftieth time he hoped these were the right four windows. Sarge had explained that the sentries stood back so they couldn’t be seen, but even so this was a hell of a thing to take on trust. If only three were right, then there’d be eight or nine very alive and annoyed Frogs in the fourth.

  The fourth vibrate had been a while back and sure enough the fifth didn’t take long coming. Even as he sw
ung round the side of the window frame with the Frog carbin up and snugged into his shoulder, Bobby heard a query in Frog lingo further down the row. Not Bobby’s problem, his problem looked straight back into Bobby’s eyes. The Frog’s eyes widened and he put up a hand to stop the flechettes.

  Fat chance, the sentry had moved forward and almost up to the window. Bobby didn’t hesitate; he thrust hard instead of shooting. The Frog forward lookout might have blackened the blade to stop any reflections but that didn’t affect the edge on the bayonet and the point slid into the sentry’s throat. Bobby twisted hard and put out a hand to grab the sentry’s shoulder and pull him forward.

  The body slumped onto the windowsill with barely a sound except a rattle from the falling carbin. Not that noise mattered now. Some part of Bobby registered the sounds of a Frog carbin and two shotguns, and a query from inside this room. They’d all still be awake after the lights were shot out! That basted Sarge must have known that! Bobby knelt, put down his weapon and pulled out the grenade.

  Pull, one, two, three, into the window, move back out of the window line, turn and cover his ears, shut his eyes. Even so the explosion came a shock, the sheer noise rattled Bobby’s bones and there were echoes. When he turned and looked down the block, only two other windows were gushing smoke, shite! Then Bobby saw Siflis dropping with his hands on his ears and Bobby turned again and shut his eyes. Not as loud this time, but now four windows billowed clouds of smoke. Bobby leaned in through the window and put a quick burst from the Frog carbin into any movement, shooting one Frog staggering out of the bog with his pants down. Then he scooped up his own carbin and ran like hell towards Siflis.

  All four went in the window together chased by a roar from the UKs’ lines as the Timers surged up and out of their positions. A few flechettes whined past and smacked the wall. Shite, Sarge had promised no shooting! At least the wild shooting stopped quickly, though Bobby made a personal promise to kick some nuts later. All of them snatched up more Frog carbins and clips and went out of the door at the back of the room. That wasn’t hard since the door only hung by one hinge. The Super would be stoked when he saw the redecorating bill in the room, because that would come out of the profit from the attack.