Valkyrie

by Lucas Marcum

  With a half grin, the non-commissioned officer responded, “No way in hell. Here’s the plan. I’ll go first; cover to cover. I’ll ping you when it’s safe to move. We get in, get to the arms locker, get weapons and what gear we can, do a fast sweep for survivors, then get out. Good with you, Ma’am?”

  Elizabeth laughed bitterly. “Sure, Sergeant. Again, it’s not like I have a wealth of tactical expertise to fall back on, now is it? Let’s go.”

  Brian nodded, slid up the berm, and scanned the pad again. Nothing had changed; the site remained deathly quiet. He looked down at Elizabeth and nodded once, then slid over, dropping off of the berm. Once he was at the bottom, he stood and sprinted across the pad, heading for a pile of equipment casting a deep shadow. The leg servos in his armor augmenting his speed, he was across the pad and deep in the shadows in a matter of seconds.

  Crouching down, he froze, then turned his external microphones up as high as he could and listened intently. After a moment of hearing nothing but the wind and the flapping of canvas, he toggled his suit to send a ping to Elizabeth. Several seconds later, he could see her scramble over the berm, slide to the bottom, and run directly towards his position. After a few seconds, she crashed into the boxes next to him, then turned and gave him a thumbs up.

  Returning the gesture, Brian cautiously poked his head around the corner, eyeing the gap in the berm that lead to the rest of the hospital. It was close, but he couldn’t see through it without getting closer. He could feel a hand on his leg. Looking down, he saw Elizabeth pointing at the pad. Sliding back into cover, he looked where she was pointing. It looked like she was pointing at the enemy alien’s body.

  Confused, he turned back to her and raised his eyebrows. She pointed at the dead alien, then at the pistol he held, then held a hand up, pantomiming pulling a trigger. Brian nodded, mentally kicking himself. He should have thought of that. They needed weapons, and there was one lying in the middle of the pad.

  Opening his helmet, he whispered, “Go get it. Be quick, and grab any magazines he has, too. I’ll cover you. Go.”

  Elizabeth nodded, waited until Brian had sighted the pistol on the gap in the berm, and then sprinted out to the body. Reaching it, she snatched the weapon and quickly slung it over her shoulder. She then slid her hands under the alien’s body, flipping it on its back and exposing the three large, ragged holes in the shiny black chest plate. Reaching for the belt with its multiple pouches, she fumbled with the latch for a moment. After a second, she put a hand on either side of the belt latch and squeezed, snapping it easily with her augmented gloves. Removing the belt from the deceased Elai soldier, she quickly made her way back to the shadows of the crates. Kneeling down, she held the rifle out to Brian, who took it wordlessly, handing the pistol back to her. Motioning her to watch the entry, he knelt to look at the rifle.

  It was short, with the magazine far to the rear of the rifle. He hefted it, feeling the weight and balance, then brought it up to his shoulder. Sighting down the weapon, he frowned, then looked at the built-in sight. Finding a button on the side of the sight mount, he pushed it, peered through the sight again, and nodded. Continuing his inspection, he found another button above the energy magazine. Pressing it and feeling the magazine come loose, he pushed it back into place, hearing a firm ‘click’. Tilting the rifle to the side, he found one more control. This control was a small metal dial, with what appeared to be multiple settings, each marked with a series of curved slashes and dots. He paused, thinking about this. It was probably the safety or the power control for the energy emitter, but there was only one way to test it, and that made too much noise. He decided if he needed to use it, he’d try that first if the rifle didn’t fire. If that didn’t work, it was probably RFID encoded and worthless, but he’d deal with that when the time came. Turning his attention from the weapon, he took the energy magazines from the enemy pouches, stuffing them in the utility pouches on his own belt.

  Satisfied with the weapon for the moment, he tapped Elizabeth on the shoulder. Without looking around, she motioned him forward. Slipping past her with the unfamiliar rifle at the ready, he moved to the side of the entryway through the berms towards the sleep tents. Taking a breath, he leaned out, rifle at the ready. Seeing only the empty pathway winding its way into the darkness between the tents, he leaned back and motioned to Elizabeth.

  Slipping past him, Elizabeth brought her sidearm up and pointed it down the path. She moved rapidly between the berms, made for the near side of one of the nearby tents, and vanished into the shadows.

  After a moment of silence, she gestured him forward. Repeating her maneuver, he moved down the path to the first set of tents, first checking down the path again, then slipping into one of the sleep tents.

  Sweeping the barrel of the rifle around, he could see rumpled cots, clothing on the floor, and signs that people had left quickly. Not seeing anything else useful, he slipped back out the door and covered the path, motioning Elizabeth to work her way up the far side. She slipped into the dark entryway of the tent and disappeared.

  After a moment, she reappeared and took up position, covering the path again. Her face was tightly drawn, lips pressed together. Catching Brian’s eye, she used two fingers to silently point to her eyes, then motioned to the tent. The instruction was clear: Take a look.

  Checking up the path, Brian slipped across and entered the tent. As he did, he saw immediately what she had meant. In front of him lay the body of a young woman, slumped against a footlocker. Her face was covered by her hair, but the nametag on her uniform was clear. Reynolds. It was their crew chief, Sergeant Jennifer Reynolds.

  Brian sighed, knelt down, and brushed the woman’s hair out of her face. Her grey eyes stared sightlessly, and the ragged burn holes in her blood-stained uniform made her seem very small and fragile. Brian knelt for another moment, touched the young woman’s shoulder gently, then her cheek.

  He then stood, moved to the door behind Elizabeth, and tapped her shoulder to her know he was behind her.

  The nurse spoke without taking her eyes from the dark pathway. “Jenny’s dead.”

  Brian responded quietly, “I know.”

  In a strained voice, she responded, “Why hasn’t anyone picked these soldiers up? Why did they leave them lying here?”

  Brian shook his head silently, then tapped her again, and advanced quickly up the dark path towards the center of the empty hospital. Together they moved rapidly down the dark row of sleep tents, finding nothing except further signs of a rapid departure.

  Reaching the T junction at the end of the dark path, Brian leaned around the edge of the last tent and cautiously peered around the edge. Seeing more shapes on the ground in the monochromatic color of his display, he motioned to Elizabeth to cover him and moved up.

  Kneeling, he found another soldier. This one was lying on her back, sightlessly staring at the flickering sky. The side of her neck and head was horribly burnt, and her chest was a ruined mass of blackened uniform and charred flesh with glints of white bone showing. In one of her hands she still gripped her pistol, and there were energy cartridges lying near and underneath her. Next to her, curled into a ball in the middle of the path, lay another soldier. Four fist-sized burn marks were visible in a diagonal line across his back, and went deep into his body.

  He looked back at the shadows where he knew Elizabeth was watching and waved his hand, palm down, then motioned to the next corner. Nimble despite her injuries, the officer moved past him, gently stepping over the soldiers’ still forms. She moved to the corner, taking cover up against the next building, a rigid expandable building. She took a fast glance around the building, then motioned him past. Moving up, Brian could see hundreds of bullet holes in the thin wall of the shelter. Leaning around the corner with the alien rifle at the ready, he again saw no one moving, and yet more bodies.

  Three Elai lay in a heap outside the temporary building. He glanced at the door, which had been torn off of its hinges and tossed to the side.
Above the door was a sign that simply read ‘Critical Care – B’. Moving quickly up to the door, he risked a fast glance inside, then turned back quickly, moving past it and taking cover inside. Elizabeth moved up behind him. He could hear the pause as she, too, stopped at the door, then he was next to her.

  She leaned close and said in a careful, even voice, “Well. That’s probably most of them.”

  Brian nodded silently, then after a moment he said, “Looks like they put up quite a fight.” Continuing to stare into the dark, he fell silent.

  Elizabeth spoke, softly, “I think we’re all that’s left.”

  “Yeah.” They stood in silence for a moment, the only sound the blowing wind.

  Elizabeth suddenly spoke in a decisive tone, “Let’s get to the Operations center, then get out of here. There’s nothing left for us here, and if an Elai patrol comes back, we’re up shit creek.”

  Brian nodded again, then gestured to the left. “Armor shop’s that way; so is the arms locker.”

  Overhead, hidden in the low clouds, an aircraft roared, followed by another. In the distance they could hear a sudden, rapid series of pops, then the skies to the south flashed several times. A low rumble came to them like distant thunder. Apprehensive, they looked at the sky, then traded a glance. Without a word, Brian moved towards the arms room, Elizabeth behind him. Their movements had taken on a renewed urgency, spurred on by the noise of fighting in the distance. As they moved past each building, they would glance in, only to see the same thing over and over. The dead lay where they had fallen, still and silent, all wearing the faces of their friends.

  Brian came up to the small reinforced structure that housed the arms room, leaned around the doorframe, and peered in, then disappeared through the door. He then whispered to Elizabeth, “Ma’am, get in here.”

  Elizabeth moved through the door, sweeping her pistol around the room. The room was in disarray, lockers standing open and cases of energy magazines standing open and empty. Brian lowered the alien rifle and nudged an empty ammo box with a boot.

  “Looks like they used it all.” He turned to continue looking, peering over the desk the armorers had set up as a workbench. Elizabeth heard him murmur something under his breath, then he leaned down and came back up with a sidearm. Letting the alien rifle hang from its sling, he ejected the magazine and checked the ammunition.

  Looking up, he spoke somberly, “Full. Looks like Sergeant Hartlaub didn’t even manage to get a shot off. Poor bastard.” He clipped the sidearm to his leg armor hard point and moved the alien rifle back into position. He then opened a locker, took out an assault pack, and set it on the table. Opening it, he peered inside, then said, “Ok. Here’s the suit charger. Looks like it’s still got a charge, so it’ll work.” He turned to continue rummaging, occasionally stuffing things into the rucksack.

  While he searched, Elizabeth looked at the hastily strewn boxes everywhere and frowned. “If they’re tearing into the M45 ammo boxes, doesn’t that mean there’s one here somewhere in the hospital? I know we had to turn them in, but where did they actually go?”

  Brian looked around. “That’s a good point. I’m sure they weren’t all stacked. I think by the regs, you gotta have a couple for the Arms Room guards. I think Hartlaub was one of ‘em, but all he had was a sidearm. So where the hell would they be?”

  “The Ops Center? The colonel would probably dig in and fight.” Elizabeth gingerly ran the back of an armored gauntlet across her forehead and grimaced.

  Brian nodded slowly. “Yeah. Makes sense. Ok. I don’t think…”

  “Got ‘em!” Interrupting him, Elizabeth moved forward suddenly, leaned over, and pushed a box. From under it spilled several M45 energy cartridge magazines. Scooping them up, she said, “I knew this was too hurried a job not to drop a few. Here.” She held out two magazines to him.

  Brian accepted them and tucked them into a belt pouch. “Good eye, Ma’am. Now let’s find a rifle.” Elizabeth nodded silently and moved to the door. After a quick look, she motioned Brian through.

  Continuing their careful, silent movement, they made their way to the Operations Center. There were more bodies, both Elai and human, all bearing terrible wounds.

  Cautiously turning the corner that led to the command center, Brian froze. There were a dozen Elai bodies lying scattered on the ground outside the entrance to the command center. The entryway was blocked with hastily stacked equipment boxes, and the large communications antenna had toppled onto the tent, partially collapsing towards the rear.

  Behind him, Elizabeth whispered, “This was it.”

  Without turning, he replied in an emotionless tone, “This was what?”

  In a soft voice, she replied, “This was their end.”

  Without responding, Brian shifted his rifle up and moved towards the entrance of the command center, stepping over the still forms of the enemy soldiers. Reaching the sandbagged entryway, Brian paused, then stepped over the low wall into the ruins of the operations center.

  Inside, bodies, ruined equipment, and scraps of paper lay everywhere. In the center of the room lay the lean figure of the hospital commander, Lieutenant Colonel Matthews. The ancient .45 caliber pistol he carried was nowhere to be seen, though its distinctive brass shell casings littered the floor around him. Next to him, lying on his side and draped over an Elai soldier’s body, lay the massive figure of Sergeant Major Nelson. His face was strangely peaceful. In his right hand he held a combat knife, it’s blade dark with dried Elai blood. The old NCO had a massive hole burned through his chest.

  The rest of the operations staff lay around them. Major Winters lay next to her desk, half of her face and head missing. Lieutenant Holland sat with his back against the comm station, his shoulder a charred black and red mess, and his intestines spilling out into his lap through the large hole burned in his stomach. His M45 rifle lay next to him, with spent energy cartridges in a pile and several empty magazines scattered around. Behind the comm console, there was a pair of legs and boots, the rest of the owner lying out of sight behind the equipment.

  Brian lowered his rifle and stood, staring at the scene around him, his breath starting to catch in his throat. He swallowed hard, then took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

  Seeing Elizabeth next to him, he started. He hadn’t even heard her come in. She stared at his face for a moment, then put a hand on his shoulder and spoke in a low, firm tone.

  “Sergeant. Are you good?”

  Brian jerked his eyes away from the bodies to look at her face. Her normally compassionate brown eyes were intense, and she was staring at him.

  Speaking again in a firm voice, Elizabeth continued, “Sergeant Agawa, I need to know if you’re good. I can’t get out of here by myself, and I’m not leaving without you, so I’m gonna ask again: Are you good?”

  Brian looked into her eyes, seeing the resolve of the younger woman, then took a deep breath and nodded. His face hardened as he said, “Yes, Ma’am. I’m good.”

  She stared at him for a moment, then responded, “Good. Now gear up, Medic.” She indicated the rifle lying on the floor next to the mangled corpse of Lieutenant Holland.

  Nodding, Brian moved to the young man’s body and took the rifle. While he checked the weapon, Elizabeth moved forward towards the comm panel, gingerly stepping around the fallen soldiers. He could hear her mutter something, then stand up with another M45 in her hand.

  She spoke firmly, “Ok. The comm panel is trashed; Specialist Singh made sure of that.” She paused, looking down at the body at her feet, and continued somberly, “He was on the radio until the end.” Her voice grew distant for a moment. “You know he used to get me extra supplies for the ICU? I never asked him how he did it. He could just find things. He would just laugh and say he ‘knew people’.” She looked up at Brian and then back down. “He was a good kid. You know he spoke six languages?”

  Brian shook his head silently.

  Tilting her head to the side, staring at the still for
m huddled next to his radios, she continued distantly, “Yeah. He spoke three of the Indian dialects, English, French, and Spanish. He did a pretty funny Martian accent too.”

  She stared down at the young man’s still body, and spoke again, “He was a good kid.”

  Turning to the door to hide his eyes, Brian blinked hard, trying to clear his eyes of the tears threatening his vision, and spoke in an even voice, “They were all good people. Come on, Ma’am. We need to get the fuck out of here.” He moved towards the door of the ruined operations center and stepped out. Elizabeth stared at the young specialist’s body for another second, then turned and followed her comrade into the night.

  -5-

  “Shelter”

  EIGHTEEN KILOMETERS WEST OF THE RUINS OF VALHALLA STATION

  0549 hours, March 15, 2245

  “Hold up, Brian.” Elizabeth stopped running and leaned over. Her side hurt terribly and felt like a knife was being shoved into her side. “I need a minute.”

  Falling to her knees, she rammed the face shield on her helmet up and dry heaved. The motion and clenching of her abdomen made her side hurt even worse. She clenched her side and fought the nausea for a moment before heaving again.

  A few steps ahead of her, Sergeant Brian Agawa stopped and turned, panting. Even with the augmentation of the armor, it had been a hard run. They had been moving for two straight hours now, each carrying as much as they could salvage from what was left of the hospital. He stared at her for a minute, then looked behind them. He moved back to her and knelt, placing a hand on her shoulder and speaking gently.

  “You ok, Ma’am? I know I’ve been pushing hard, but we had to get clear.” Elizabeth just nodded without looking up, still fighting to not throw up again. He looked around, then motioned towards a rock escarpment about twenty-five meters away.

  “Let’s get over there and get out of sight. The sun will be up soon, and we need to get under cover.” The sky had begun to lighten slightly in the east, but still the dust and sand blew.