by Randy Dyess
“Not really. There’s not going to be a spider left by the time he gets to them. Look at how well the fighting four formation works.”
McCoons could hear Sergeant Yamikani yelling at first and second squads. In under a minute, they separated from the formation and formed their own fighting four teams before making their way to their comrades. “One of my better ideas, if I do say so myself,” McCoons replied.
“Your idea? I believe it was Sergeant Preston who came up with it, God rest his soul.”
Before Sergeant Major McCoons could reply, one of the marines standing next to him said, “Sergeant Preston isn’t dead—he’s with that group. I would recognize his crazy fighting style anywhere—I’ve been his fighting partner for weeks!”
McCoons and Henry jerked their heads toward the group tearing apart the spiders. “I believe he’s right, Alphus. I’ll be damned if Rodney didn’t make it, after all.”
They broke formation to watch the small group kill the remaining spiders. Sergeant Henry was right: Sergeant Yamikani and first and second squads didn’t make it to Sergeant Preston’s group before the last spider was killed. “Told you,” Henry said.
“There’s going to be a lot more of those beasts coming down soon—I just feel it,” McCoons commented. “They’ve changed their tactics and will attack in force next time.”
Sergeants Yamikani and Preston soon made their way back to the main formation. First and second squad joined back in and reformed the ranks without a sound. Sergeant Preston shook McCoons’ and Henry’s hands with a smile. A layer of green spider blood was dripping off him.
“Glad you could make it, Rodney,” Sergeant Major McCoons said. “What took you so long? You’re late.”
“You know, Sergeant Major, I had to stop for coffee and breakfast, and then the armory fell on me. I was about to take a nap, but these marines dug me out, and I thought we might as well join up with you..”
Sergeant Major McCoons laughed. “I recognize Private Frans from the comm shack, but who are these five?” he asked.
“These are the newest members of the Spider Killers,” Sergeant Preston replied.
The four men and two women stood a little straighter and smiled. “Welcome! Go with Sergeant Yamikani and he’ll get you straightened out,” McCoons said to them.
“Yes, Sergeant Major!” Sergeant Yamikani led them to the reserve unit.
“You didn’t see anyone else, Rodney?”
“No, Alphus, I didn’t. We came across about a hundred of our marines all dead. We stripped them of their nano-blades,” he handed over a small backpack.
“Good thinking. These might come in handy,” McCoons said. “Let’s get back into formation and try to figure this out.”
Chapter 12
Sergeant Major McCoons looked at his marines after reforming their defensive formation, ready to take on another group of spiders. “Listen up! I know some of you are tired, but I’m going to need you to dig in now. If those monsters attack in force, we’ll be overrun. We need to get to a more defensible location, so we have to make it to the lake before they come back. Who’s up for a little run?”
“Yes, Sergeant Major!” the group shouted.
“We’ll need to run faster than we usually do, but you don’t have any equipment, so this should be easy. Every fighting pair will run at their own pace. We’ll meet at the training spot by the lake. Understood?”
“Understood, Sergeant Major!”
“Move out!” Sergeant Major McCoons commanded.
He was much older than the average marine in his unit and was still in very good shape, but he just couldn’t maintain the same pace as the rest of the formation. After thirty minutes, he and Sergeant Henry had fallen back so far that he couldn’t see the fighting teams leading the pack. He didn’t know how close they were to the lake and whether anyone was behind him.
“Do you need a break, Alphus?” Sergeant Henry asked.
“I need a new body,” McCoons joked.
“Why don’t we slow down before I have to carry you?”
“Okay, let’s take ten and climb this hill so we can get a look at the unit. I don’t want to leave anyone behind.”
“I doubt any of those youngsters are behind us, even the newbies, but let’s start climbing and find out.”
“I’ll go first,” Sergeant Major McCoons said. “That way, you can catch me if I fall.”
“Do you ever wonder what’s wrong with us that we can make jokes at a time like this?”
“No, Sam, I don’t. Being able to make jokes is the only thing that lets me believe we haven’t given up. It’s when we stop making jokes that I’ll begin to worry. I mean, we are on a desert planet with no food, water, or weapons and being chased by three-meter tall spiders who want to capture us and do who knows what.
“Our leadership probably knows about the alien invasion and is doing nothing about it. Oh, and let’s not forget that I’ve spent over thirty years in the Terran Marines, and just before I have a chance to retire with my pitiful little pension, I’m probably going to have to fake my death, so whoever has it out for me will stop sending me to planets about to be attacked by those spiders. Why shouldn’t I make jokes to keep sane?”
“Feel better, now that you’ve gotten all of that off your chest, sunshine,” Sergeant Henry said. “Do you think we’re going to have to fake our deaths?”
“Yes. My orders made it clear that they don’t want to let this get out. Dakota Sullivan and her people told me that being assigned here was a trap. They knew it right off and so did I, but here I am. I’m not going to make that mistake again. Before this is over, I’m going to disappear and figure out my next move.”
“Well,” Sergeant Henry said after some consideration, “don’t leave without me, and don’t leave until all the spiders have left.”
“I’d never leave until this invasion is over—you know that.”
“I do, but I needed to make sure you still knew I knew. Also, you run slower than I do, and to paraphrase an ancient saying, ‘I don’t need to run faster than the spiders—I just need to run faster than you.’”
“Funny.”
The two sergeants made their way up the hill; once on the top, Sergeant Major McCoons could see the marine base and the large lake in the distance, still over five kilometers away. Small groups of marines dotted the trail between him the lake, and he was thankful that none were behind them.
“Look up, Alphus,” Sergeant Henry said.
McCoons did so and saw hundreds of spider landing ships entering the atmosphere and heading toward the base. “Let’s hope they don’t see us—I doubt we can hold off that many at once.”
“Shall we go, then?” Sergeant Henry asked. “It looks like some of Sergeant Preston’s new marines are slowing down. They might even be slow enough for you to catch up.”
“Remind me to dunk your butt in the water once we get to the lake, Sergeant Henry,” Alphus laughed.
“I’ll try to remember—if you ever get to the lake.”
*****
Sergeant Major McCoons and every marine in his unit did make it to the lake. The spiders never attacked them as they ran for their lives, and McCoons didn’t understand why. They could have attacked the unit as they separated and wipe them out, but they didn’t.
He had Sergeants Preston and Yamikani create a defensive formation with the lake at their backs, creating three lines of marines, so they could be switched out more often, with the lines extending to the water. The newer marines were placed at the back line with instructions to head into the water if the formation was about to be overrun. He was hoping they would be spared the brunt of an attack since they were practically in the water.
“Sergeant Preston,” McCoons called out, “have the men drill on a tactical retreat into the lake. When they are able to withdraw into the lake in order, give them a break. I want at least three fighting teams on watch at all times—put them on those hills,” he said, pointing to the nearest set. “I’m g
oing to take Sergeant Henry and climb the large hill we passed about a kilometer back. I think we’ll be able to see the base from there.”
“Understood, Sergeant Major,” Preston replied. “Do you need a squad to go with you?”
“No, we’ll be fine. Drill the unit a few times and then let them rest. I have a feeling we’re going to need it before the day ends.”
*****
It took twenty minutes for Sergeant Major McCoons and Sergeant Henry to walk back the kilometer and make the climb to the top of the seven-hundred-meter hill. From the top, they could see the marine base in the distance. The main buildings had been blasted and were gone, but several large buildings remained. The sergeant major was about to make a comment when he was cut off by Sergeant Henry.
“It wouldn’t have worked, Alphus. Those buildings are too weak and have too many entry points. You said it yourself: those spiders can climb to the top and tear open the roof. We wouldn’t have stood a chance.” The secondary buildings and warehouses that still stood would have been too weak to be utilized for defense.
“I know, Sam, but I’m out of ideas,” Sergeant Major McCoons said before looking off in the distance.
“Alphus, incoming.”
Hundreds of landing ships were getting closer to the base. “Keep watch—I need to make sure the men saw the ships.” Sergeant Major McCoons went to the opposite edge of the hill to get a better look at his unit. The marines got into a defensive formation and the lookouts made their way back to the rest of the unit. They were getting ready, in case the landing ships changed course and came their way.
The Henry and McCoons watched as the spider ships landed at the base and then launched back into the air. While it was almost nine kilometers away, they could still see the small, black dots scurrying around the base, looking for them. “They don’t know where we are,” Sergeant Major McCoons said. “They think we are hiding on the base.”
“Let’s hope they keep looking there and forget about us,” Sergeant Henry replied. “We could use a break.”
“We can hope, but let’s not count on it. Should we break the unit apart and have the fighting units hide on their own? Maybe that will keep them from finding us.”
“We could, but what if they can track heat signatures like we can? They’ll fly a ship above us and see eighty-seven small, human-shaped heat sources scattered around. They have enough ships to land one for each of us and—what? —eight, ten, or a dozen spiders per ship? We wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“I guess you’re right, Sam. I just hate having our unit sit there, waiting for an attack.”
“It’s better than being overrun and taken captive. Let’s hope the spiders finish up with the cities and leave like they usually do. We should be able to hold out for a few days. The lake has fresh water and we have the distiller at the training site. We’ll be hungry, but alive.”
“True. It’s probably better to jump into the lake than to try to hide, anyway. We know they hate water, even if they’ve changed their tactics. Let’s go back.”
The two men stood and started walking across the hilltop toward the trail they’d used up the hill. “Alphus,” Sergeant Henry said, “is that smoke?”
“Looks like it. An awful small fire, if it is.”
“Could be a campfire. Maybe someone else made it out?”
“Mark the location. I’ll have Sergeant Yamikani take a squad and check it out once we get back. Let’s get moving—it’s going to start getting dark soon.”
“Do they spiders attack at night?”
“I think so. They didn’t attack us on Candus, but we saw the landing ships all night long.”
“I hate how it sounds to say it, but let’s hope they concentrate on the city and not waste resources trying to find us here. We left more dead marines back there than we have with us. Hopefully, spiders can’t count.”
“Maybe, but don’t count on it,” Sergeant Major McCoons joked. Sergeant Henry just rolled his eyes.
*****
“I swear I saw two people on top of that hill,” Agent White told Agent Brown. “They might have been marines.”
“You could tell at this distance?” Agent Green asked.
“No, but who else would it be? It’s not like this place is crawling with farmers or ranchers—it’s all desert with no value. Nobody else but us and that marine base is out here.”
“Could you tell where they went after they left?”
“To the north. If they were smart, they’d hole up by the lake. It would be better than staying at their base.”
Agent Brown looked at Agent Black. “What do you think?”
“It’s going to be dark soon, and we need to make a decision now if we’re going.”
Agent Brown looked around. “This place is great for hiding, but we have no weapons. Being with a group of marines is better than being here. Let’s move out.”
The other agents seemed relieved—they were cut off without weapons. The marines might have weapons, food, and clean water, and they could pull rank and take over the group—make someone else stand watch and keep the fire going while they got some sleep. They were exhausted.
*****
It took Sergeant Major McCoons and Sergeant Henry a little longer to get back to the lake than before. They were exhausted and needed some sleep. “Took you long enough,” Sergeant Preston commented as soon as he saw the men.
“Took a little stroll, saw the local sights, counted a few hundred ships landing at our base, and saw a few thousand spiders scurrying all over the place.”
“Yeah, we saw the ships, too. That many, huh?” Sergeant Preston asked.
“Thousands of them, Rodney. We would’ve been overrun if we had stayed,” Sergeant Henry said before McCoons could reply. “Hopefully they’ll stay at the base and leave us alone.”
“Sergeant Yamikani,” the sergeant major said, “we saw what looked like campfire just south of here on the lake shore. Take a squad and go see who it is.”
“Yes, Sergeant Major. “First squad, on me. We’re going to take another little walk.”
McCoons and Henry could hear the first squad groan. “Sometimes it is nice to be old and in charge,” Sergeant Major McCoons said, “even if I’m going to be too sore in the morning to move.”
“I’ll have second squad try to make you a feather bed—some place nice and soft for your old bones.”
“Keep it up, Sergeant. I could always make you and second squad go check out that smoke we saw to the north.”
“What smoke? We didn’t see smoke to the north.”
“Exactly—and while you’re trying to find it, look for a nice feather bed for me.”
“I’d like some coffee for the morning. I’m going to miss my morning cup,” Sergeant Preston got in on the joking.
“Some doughnuts would be nice, too,” McCoons said. “You know how we old people like our breakfast.”
Chapter 13
Captain Moore was starting to worry that their plan wouldn’t work. It had been three months since they had been blasted into the Redrar system. He had believed a freighter would have entered the system by now and picked up their hail from one of the comm relays. Lt. Jones had monitored the makeshift communications scan for hours on end and had yet to hear any ship returning their hail. Either they heard and are ignoring us, or no one’s been here in two months, Captain Moore thought as he stared at the comm unit, willing it to work. Lt. Jones and the rest of the crew had failed to come up with a plan to get external comms back online, and they were stuck using the laser scan. The whole crew was starting to get depressed about their hopes of rescue.
Lt. Jones cocked her head to the side. Was that a ping? she thought as she tried to adjust the frequency of the scan. It was! “Captain, I have a ping! Someone’s out there!”
Captain Moore rushed to Lt. Jones’ workstation. “Sara, can you tell where they are?”
She looked up to him and said, “No, sir, but I think they're close enough for a point-to
-point. Their signal is very strong.”
“Keep sending them a point-to-point channel request. See if they understand what we’re trying to do and then try to set up a connection.”
“Aye, Captain,” Lt. Jones replied. Captain Moore opened a ship-wide comm channel and informed the crew of the situation. The remaining officers and chief petty officers rushed to the bridge to monitor the situation for themselves.
After twenty-five tense minutes, Lt. Jones shouted, “A connection has been made! They understood us!”
Captain Moore cleared his throat and nodded for her to switch over to the new connection. “This is Captain Landen Moore of the Candus Security vessel Castle. Can you read me?”
“Castle,” came the reply. The crew cried out in relief, causing Captain Moore to miss the rest of the transmission.
“Quiet!” he shouted. “I can’t hear them.” Once everyone had quieted enough, he continued, “This is Captain Moore. Can you repeat your last transmission?”
“Caste, this the Tholian freighter Agamemnon. How may we be of assistance?”
The bridge crew once again broke out in cheers, and Captain Moore had a huge smile on his face when he said, “Agamemnon, we were damaged during an attack. We have no drives, minimal life support, and no external communications. Can you perform a rescue?”
“Castle, I’ve summoned my captain to the bridge. Standby.”
“Roger, Agamemnon. We’re sure glad you’re here, and I can speak for the rest of my crew when I say we’re looking forward to meeting you in person.”
After five agonizing minutes of silence, Captain Moore was beginning to think they had lost their connection. He looked at Lt. Jones. “Sara, are they still reading us?”
“Yes, Captain,” she replied. “It’s showing green on the connection and I get a ping back when I do a channel trace. They’re there—they’re just not saying anything.”
“Agamemnon, did you copy our last message?” Captain Moore asked. There was still silence. “Repeat that last transmission, Sara,” Captain Moore ordered.
Lt. Jones had reached over to replay the last message when they heard, “Captain Moore, this is Captain Neeraj of the Agamemnon. We copy your last transmission and regret to inform you that we don’t have the ability to rescue your crew.”
