Indomitable

by W. C. Bauers

  Maxi’s icon turned red, and Promise’s father’s words bled across her mind. He gives and takes away. Morlyn Gration had said so often to his daughter, in the good times and the bad, and even in his wife’s eulogy. Promise would never forget turning eight without a mother. Yin and yang. Blessings and curses. Life and Death. The wind howled as she charged a nearby mech. Her minigun became a battering ram, and with it she punched deep into the platform’s internal organs. Molycircs and synthetic goo back-sprayed her armor and doused her visor in a milky chem wash.

  Promise swung the mini toward the next threat with the platform now impaled on the weapon. Because she’d burned out her Banning Shield, the platform would have to do for a shield. She rotated sideways to minimize her profile and let the platform absorb a flight of missiles and more pulser fire aimed at her. She spotted Maxi, there, flat to the deck, not fifteen meters away. Five mechsuits hot-dropped to the deck closer still, between her and Maxi. Promise turned to face them, out of ammo, out of options. This is it, she thought. She raised her force blade above her head and charged.

  “Stand down, Lieutenant!” A window opened in her HUD, and the colonel’s hard eyes appeared.

  “We’ll mop up these bastards.” Halvorsen’s voice grated over the comm. “See to your wounded. Medevac is en route. See you when this—”

  “Sir, request permission to accompa—”

  “De-nied,” Halvorsen said. “Your armor’s slagged. Your company’s a mess.”

  It was the odd way he said “your company” that grabbed Promise’s attention; otherwise she might have outright disobeyed the command. Because Victor Company wasn’t hers at all and …

  “Your people need you … here.” The colonel’s eyes were blazing mad on her HUD and focused on a target she couldn’t see. His eyes target-locked and fired and for once his volcanic temper wasn’t directed at her. A shared enemy had a way of turning personnel conflicts into bygones, even if the enemy—their platforms—had been friendlies just moments before. The colonel’s eyes focused upon her again and he actually winked before killing the link.

  The colonel was running toward the fight and he’d told Promise to stay behind. A part of her went to that dark place that believed he’d left her behind because he didn’t trust her at his side. Because she was unstable and he needed steady at his side and steady was definitely not her. Her sane side said that was nonsense. His decision to leave her behind had nothing to do with her abilities and everything to do with where she needed to be most. I’m only being realistic, thought her dark side. No, you’re being a fool, came a voice of reason, and it sounded a lot like her mother’s. Her mind bent like a reed, and it was only Atumbi’s cry for help that steeled it against the conflicting winds.

  “Lieutenant! What do I do? What do I do?”

  “Is Maxi’s MEDSYS functional?” Promise asked as she turned and ran to his side.

  “Checking, ma’am. Stand by.…”

  Atumbi hadn’t thought to check. Shock did that to a Marine, particularly one new to combat. She wasn’t at all surprised.

  “It’s down but I … I can reroute it … through mine. Doing that now.”

  “Access triage protocol two,” Promise said. “Initiate rescue breathing. If that doesn’t work we’ll have to crack his suit and use the cup.” She was almost to Maxi now.

  “Copy that. I’m in, wait one … okay, his MEDSYS is spinning up … accessing P-2 now … there, the O2 is flowing. What’s next?”

  “We need a full scan of his injuries.” Promise slid to her knees and linked with Atumbi’s MEDSYS and found the right subroutine. “Got it.” A hologram appeared next to Maxi’s body. There was so much data displayed that Promise could hardly make sense of it. She reached into the holo and whisked the armor away, and then Maxi’s beegees, until the virtual Maxi was down to his holographic skin. Yellows and oranges and reds ranked Maxi’s injuries by priority. Promise rotated the image 360 degrees to check for external wounds.

  “What do I do?” Atumbi started to panic again. “His heart is blown out. The arteries are slagged. There’s no use trying to jump him. We need a stasis collar ASAP or—”

  “Medevac’s is one mike out,” Bond said.

  “Private, keep oxygen flowing to his brain.” Promise laid a gauntlet on Maxi’s armored chest. “Deploy his nanites and yours. Start with the wall of the heart, there.” Promise stabbed deep into the projection. “Here,” she said as small tendrils snaked from both of her gauntlets and into the ports on Maxi’s armor. “My nanites are away. Make them count. I’ll get you that collar. Fix the heart as best you can and you’ll give him a fighting chance. You can do this, Marine.”

  The sounds of LAC engines drew her eyes skyward. Looking up, Promise spotted an assault-class LAC lined up on her position, and it appeared to be diving. Its nose-mounted minigun swung to starboard and spewed penetrators into a crumpled line of platforms. Then the minigun swung right at Promise. She threw herself over Maxi while shoving Atumbi to the side, as the rain of fire passed overhead. She hadn’t seen the platform behind her, now a slagged mess. Promise raised a hand and waved at the LAC, and immediately thought what a foolish thing that was to do in the midst of a battle. Whether or not the pilot saw her gesture was beside the point. He’d just saved her life and …

  “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday…” broke over the battlenet. The LAC tipped dangerously to the side and the sound of twisting metal filled the sky. Promise watched in horror as the LAC’s midsection bubbled outward, and then contracted like a great hand had wrapped around it and squeezed. Whoever was inside the vessel couldn’t have survived that. It happened so fast she wasn’t even sure of what she’d seen.

  The LAC fought for altitude, turned sharply, and then came back around. For a moment Promise thought the pilot had the reins.

  Maxi.

  “Kathy,” Promise said, as she struggled to heft Maxi’s lifeless body up and over her shoulder. “Help.”

  Her guardian was already there. Promise and Kathy looped their arms under Maxi’s and ran toward the dropship. Atumbi was just a few lengths back, covering their retreat. The LAC’s impact caused the ground to ripple beneath them, throwing rock and ash forward of their position. Atumbi went down and his icon disappeared from Promise’s HUD.

  “Boosters, now!”

  Something slammed into her shoulder and she lost her grip on Maxi.

  “Armor breach. Deploying smartmetal,” said Bond.

  She hit the deck and slid into a blanket of ash. A few moments later, she got to her feet and wiped her faceplate with the edge of her gauntlet. Over her shoulder was the downed LAC, and there wasn’t much to look at. Directly ahead lay the dropship. She spotted Atumbi a dozen meters away, lying on his side in the ash.

  “You okay, Private?” Promise did a quick sweep of the area. “We need to find Maxi.”

  “I’m fine but my armor’s slagged. I can’t get up.” Atumbi was between the dropship and Promise, so she headed his way. She was halfway to him when the dropship’s aft compartment bubbled, and then collapsed in on itself, and she knew instantly that Staff Sergeant Go-Mi’s people were dead.

  Forty-nine

  MAY 25TH, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 0925 HOURS

  THE KORAZIM SYSTEM, PLANET SHEOL

  COMBAT OUTPOST DANNY TRUE

  Promise cradled Maxi in her arms and ran toward the approaching craft. The McHaster class shuttle drew close and began descending. KS2 was stenciled in black and gold on the shuttle’s nose. From RNS Kearsarge. Otherwise, its hull was white space. The ramp was already dropping as it put down. Promise tapped her boosters, and landed on the ramp before it had fully extended.

  A corpsman wearing a rebreather and sergeant’s stripes ushered them inside. The name tab said CELLERMAN. “Lay him on the couch, there,” Cellerman said in a muffled, female voice. Promise entered the cramped interior of the shuttle, and heard the hatch close behind her and the air cycling through the overhead vents to flush the fumes and particulate from t
he cabin. A light strobed overhead, ionizing the air. Cellerman tore off her mask and joined Promise at Maxi’s side, a hypo already poised in her hand. She found the pressure point on the side of Maxi’s helmet and pushed her thumb into it to retract the helmet’s visor. Reaching in with the hypo, she pressed it to Maxi’s neck, and then angled a cup inside until it was over his nose and mouth.

  “Have to keep the oxygen flowing.”

  Of course. Promise heard the mechanical sounds of rescue breathing over her externals mix with the background noises of a Republican shuttle. She raised her visor and breathed the flat air of a Republican vessel. Maxi’s chest rose and fell in slow cadence. Promise latched on to the rhythmic inhale/exhale pattern and matched it without thinking. Maxi’s heart might be ruined but the brain was the larger concern. A collar would slow time until the cutters could address the heart. They just had to get him in it. To do that they had to get him out of his armor.

  “His suit’s plant is down. Let’s try some juice before we start cutting.” Cellerman snaked a cable from a panel in the bulkhead and plugged into a port on Maxi’s chest. “Lieutenant, please access the subroutine to open his armor while I prep the stasis collar?” Cellerman reached into another compartment and fished out a small medical kit. Before Promise could give the order, Mr. Bond was already in.

  “Got it, ma’am. Stand by.…”

  Maxi’s suit opened with a pop. A small seam formed from the sternum to the crotch, and down the length of each arm and leg, but stopped at the joints. Then the armor retracted in on itself. Promise pulled off her gauntlets and tossed them on a nearby shelf.

  “Good, I’ve got the helmet.” Cellerman had obviously done this before.

  Promise scooped Maxi out of his armor. Even with her visor up her vision was still foggy and her eyes were struggling to focus.

  “Ma’am, please,” Cellerman said.

  She didn’t want to let go, because if she did she might lose him. He felt like nothing in her arms. Her eyes flicked to Cellerman’s for the truth.

  “Lieutenant, we got to him in time.” Cellerman looked like she understood. “You did good work.”

  His skin was so pale and he was cool to the touch. “Where do I put him?”

  The corpsman’s eyes radiated confidence and they flicked toward the opposite bulkhead, to a berth recessed into the wall. A human silhouette was drawn on the pad.

  “Lay him inside the lines.” Promise did as instructed, and then moved aside. A brace came up and around to immobilize Maxi’s neck as multiple panels and readouts came to life.

  Cellerman moved quickly, with practiced hands. She checked his eyes and pressed another hypo to his neck. A collar detached from the wall and began to spin around his head until it locked into place.

  “Believe me, I’ve seen much worse,” Cellerman said without taking her eyes off Maxi. When she pulled back, a light-blue stasis field raced across Maxi’s body, and closed around his head and feet. “I have every expectation he’ll pull through, Lieutenant.” She put a hand on Promise’s shoulder. Her smile was a great comfort. The screen above the bay was lit with Maxi’s vitals, and Cellerman turned to make a few adjustments. “There. I’ve got this, Lieutenant.” She looked over her shoulder. “Leave the worrying to me. Looks like you have your hands full outside. Please be careful. I don’t want to see you in my medbay.”

  “Take care of him. He’s.…”

  “They all are, Lieutenant.” Cellerman pulled on her rebreather and pointed toward the hatch.

  Right. Promise’s visor snapped into place. “Okay.” She stole one more glance at Maxi before recoupling her gauntlets. Then she was tromping down a carpet of ash. Gray powder dusted up as the shuttle leapt skyward, and boosted out of view.

  * * *

  “I’ve retrieved Bohmbair,” Kathy said over the battlenet. Her voice sounded strained. “I’ll bring him in.”

  “Copy that, Kathy. We’ll get him home to his family.” And the rest of them too, at least the ones we can find. Promise made a mental note to add his star to the inked canvas on her arm. She’d wear him high on her shoulder. Maybe she’d have the father saturate his star just a bit brighter than the others. That seemed fitting.

  Promise surveyed the grounds of Combat Outpost Danny True, and her head began to swim. Her ears were still ringing and her suit’s scrubbers were close to clogged with Sheol’s atmosphere. Her minutes in the shuttle had been a breath of fresh air. The edges of her armorplaste HUD had fogged again, and her air reserves tasted burnt. There were six more sections to scan. She called for her sled and moved to the next section. Three hermetically sealed crates sat atop the sled. She hadn’t found much to put in them. Even though the sled floated on a plane of countergrav, Promise felt like she was towing the weight of the world behind her. The sled hovered silently as she tromped into the next grid, marked Gamma-332.

  “Mr. Bond, begin scanning.”

  Promise forced herself not to think about Maxi. Cellerman knew what she was doing, and worrying about him wasn’t going to make a bit of difference. Her worry was like an angry hound on the edge of wide-awake. Oh, how Promise wanted to kick it in the ribs, but she knew if she did it would just bite the hand trying to feed it.

  Promise’s HUD tagged something in the ash near the boundary between Gamma-332 and Gamma-334, and a small claxon chimed over her mastoid implant. She walked over and knelt in the ash, stirred with her gauntlet until she struck something metal. The plate of articulating armor rippled as she pulled it out of the char. Her HUD matched the remains to Private First Class Jon Ream. Ream had been a friend of Bohmbair’s. Promise wondered if the two men were having drinks in the next life. The plate was rounded and probably a piece of shank, she guessed. She turned it over and found parts of Ream fused to the shank, almost retched in her helmet. More bits of Ream turned up and went in the crates. She tripped on his faceplate several meters later.

  Combat Outpost Danny True looked a lot like Ream. Fires, ash, and death surrounded her. Victor Company had fared slightly better; only sixteen casualties, fifteen of them KIAs. Beyond the stasis collar and beyond this life, thought Promise as she walked the scorched earth. Thirteen had been directly under her command and she had pieces of four of them on her gravsled. Two full platoons hadn’t even made it to the fight. Every private and PFC, corporal and sergeant, jane and jack gone. Just gone … when that abomination went off in the dropship. Promise looked around in shock. They can’t be gone. They. Can’t. Be. Bohmbair and Staff Sergeant Go-Mi and Sergeant Dvorsky and … Promise felt the shakes coming on. She couldn’t chain her grief into something useful like a hat or a scarf—her knitting supplies had been in the dropship.

  Her armor felt too tight to breathe in. Strange, that. A mechsuit was a Marine’s outerwear, a jane’s second skin. Promise had logged over a thousand hours in armor, and not once had she experienced claustrophobia.

  Deep breaths, P. Breathe. Do it again. There you go. Just keep it together a little longer.

  Her dead never stayed that way for long. She’d heard the first accusation hammering on her skull in the shuttle. Maybe it was Maxi’s ghost. Why? Why? WHY? Now it was multiple voices. Why didn’t you save us? Why didn’t you do more? Why not you? The whys became a riotous crowd, the last one by far the worst. Why not you? Survivor’s guilt left her with no clear answers, just like it had in times past. Why had her father died at the hands of murdering pirates? Why had she survived then and why now? She hadn’t been in the Fleet Forces when the pirates struck her home on Montana. She knew enough now to realize their ship had had scanners. Her thermal print might as well have been a signal flare shot high into the sky. They’d overflown her position, and left her to watch her father’s murder from what she’d believed at the time to be a safe distance. Her home had burned to the ground.

  Her father had believed in more than this life, and a world beyond the grave. Problem was she couldn’t test the theory without getting killed, and in the deepest-down she was scared to deat
h of giving up this life. Because if there was a God surely His scales would weigh her deeds and find them wanting. And if there wasn’t a God all she had was this life, and much of it was unfinished. She had innocents to protect and madmen like the Greys to hunt down for their crimes. That she knew she could do. Harbinger of death. Here I come.

  “I’ve got a few more sections to go. Kathy, how about you, over?”

  “Just finished mine. I’ll be glad when this day is over.” Kathy sounded close to tears.

  “Understood. Retrace your steps. Make sure you didn’t miss anything. Let’s bring them home.”

  “Copy that. Circling back now. Prichart, out.”

  Fifty

  MAY 25TH, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 1149 HOURS

  THE KORAZIM SYSTEM, PLANET SHEOL

  SOMEWHERE IN THE RAHAT MOUNTAIN RANGE

  Julius “Walker” Greystone sat with his feet propped up on his desk and a thick Johansen smoldering in his mouth. The overhead filter had broken down again and the room was as hazy as the sky above Korazim’s capital city, Procyon. Walker was puffing on his second Johansen of the meeting, much to the consternation of his number-two man and his most trusted assassin. Two more cigars lay on his desk like parallel tracks, for later that afternoon. Like the one in his mouth, they were unfiltered and peppery because why bother otherwise. Walker smoked with his whole face and his thick brows rose happily as he puffed out a series of rings into the unpurified air.

  “A good cigar is like making love,” Walker said in a gruff, convivial voice. “It’s a slow burn, all the way to the end. Isn’t that right, Bella?”