by Lucas Marcum
He turned slightly and winked at his subordinate commanders, sitting in a group and easily identifiable by their combat vehicle crewman’s uniforms. “Nuthin’ we couldn’t handle, right fellers?”
A female major raised a paper cup to him. “Toujours Prêt, Sir.”
The colonel nodded. “Uh-huh. Damn right. Anyway, we were listenin’ in as you moved out and made contact, but couldn’t burn through th’ jammin’. I brought a squadron here, and sent Major Priest there with the other three to raise some good ol’ fashioned, armor-plated hell down with your maneuver units.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “They broke through down there and tore ‘em up purty good. Ah’ll turn it over to Colonel Hall fer that bit.”
Lieutenant Colonel Hall stood. Her uniform showed the wrinkles and creases of being under a suit of powered armor for a very long time. Her face was drawn, but her voice was clear and hard.
“Sir, as you know, we formed in echelon for a ground attack. I set the First Battalion, the ‘Atomjacks’, in the middle of the line, with the ‘Walking Dead’ and the ‘Rockhounds’ from Second and Third in support. Plan was for a general attack, then to reinforce any breakthroughs.” She nodded at a slender, sandy-haired officer in the front row. “When Major Cain broke through, we reinforced from Second and Third. They were starting to break when they used the tactical nukes. Sean?” The sandy haired major stood.
“Sir, we’d broken their primary defensive line, and were about five clicks from the main concentration. We’d wheeled to try to roll up their line, when a gunship came over low. We didn’t have much anti-air left, so we had the troopers hit the dirt, most jumping into abandoned Elai fighting positions. They must have thought there was a bigger hole in the lines than there was, because they popped two airburst tactical nukes and blew the hell out of their own fighting positions. They went off at three thousand feet or so, and we already had most of the troops proned out or in cover, since we thought more air was incoming, so we didn’t get hit that hard.”
He stopped and grinned. “Apparently they didn’t know what they were doing. The blast caught the gunship and cooked off the other weapons. Three of them went off completely, and we think there were another few that were subcritical. Unfortunately for them, the gunship was over their secondary defensive line when they cooked off. “
Through the packed command post, wolfish grins appeared on the soldiers faces. The major continued, “Anyway, the three blasts were nasty. We got bounced all to hell and gone, took some casualties, mostly a lot of blown-out suits. As we got up and started moving, we ran into the Cav scouts moving up behind us. After that, we linked up with Major Priest and decided that, in the finest tradition of both the Spaceborne and the Armored Cav, the only thing to do was to hit them in the mouth while they were still reeling.” There was a chuckle from the room.
The young major continued, “There was no real organized resistance. We think the nukes knocked out their comms. We rolled over the top of them. From the time the nukes popped to the time they surrendered was maybe forty-five minutes.”
The young man motioned to a stony-faced officer sitting nearby. “We pushed through, and Colonel Zitzev followed up and secured the installation. Let ‘em know the haul, Sir. “
The fourth battalion commander stood, and pulled a list out of his pocket. In a heavily accented voice, he began reading in a flat, matter-of-fact-tone. “At the Elai headquarters alone, we have counted the following. Enemy personnel captured: one hundred seventy-two, including an Elai general officer and his staff, as well as a brigade commander. Enemy personnel killed or wounded: three hundred sixty-six. Vehicles captured: twenty-two transports, seven light armored vehicles, and three heavy armored vehicles. Several medium transmission stations, one regional area jamming system, and extensive intelligence assets.”
The officer paused, and continued in a serious voice, “Perhaps most importantly, for the first time since the conflict started, we recovered prisoners. Seven prisoners were recovered, mostly Spaceborne troopers from a drop pod that landed in an Elai encampment, but also a surviving pilot from Valkyrie Station who was badly wounded.”
He paused and looked directly at Brian and Elizabeth. “They apparently considered her very dangerous, and had her in solitary. She has been medically evacuated to the UEAN Temperance and is being treated, as are the others.” The officer looked down at his list. “We also captured a horse, and multiple human-manufactured items, including phonograph records and an antique pistol.”
Colonel Terrell sat up straight. “I’m quite sure I didn’t hear that correctly, Colonel. Did you say you captured a horse?”
The Russian officer nodded, with an impassive expression on his face. “Yes, Sir. Colonel Travis calls it a ‘stallion’, which I understand is a special type of horse.”
Colonel Travis could be heard chuckling in the darkness. Colonel Terrell stared for a moment before replying, “Where in the hell did they get a horse?”
Colonel Zitzev shrugged and responded, “I am sure I do not know, Sir. Division Intel speculates that they may have brought it with them. Perhaps as a pet or an object of study, but that is mere speculation. I suspect they know as little about us as we do them, and are attempting to learn what they can.”
Colonel Terrell rubbed his chin for a moment, then said, “Well, I don’t know anything about any horses, but I do know this: that horse ain’t from ‘round here, and they damn sure don’t have horses where ever the hell they’re from. That means they got it somewhere, that somewhere was from humans, and that means this group has tangled with one of our colonies someplace.”
Colonel Zitzev nodded. “That is also Division’s position, Sir. It’s being routed upstairs to Big Army for analysis.”
Colonel Terrell nodded thoughtfully, then said, “Thank you, Colonel Zitzev.” He then stood, turned, and gestured to Brian and Elizabeth. “Sergeant Agawa, Captain Suarez, please come up.”
Together, they made their way up to the front of the crowded room and stood at ease. Colonel Terrell turned to address the room of officers and senior NCOs.
“Captain Suarez and Sergeant Agawa were two crewmen on one of the Valkyries, and the sole surviving soldiers from Valkyrie Station that weren’t captured. They not only survived the crash of the ‘Hawk that killed their comrades, they also evaded multiple Elai patrols and moved over twenty clicks in the middle of the night, through the middle of an active enemy offensive, armed with only rifles. When they linked up with us, they didn’t hesitate to jump into action to defend the brigade operations center from a determined Elai counterattack.” The colonel paused, then continued, “Sergeant Agawa,” Colonel Terrell gestured to Brian, “recovered multiple wounded Spaceborne troopers from the defensive line during the first assault. During the second assault, he took up a weapon and helped hold the line, and at the same time, assisted wounded troopers. During the course of these actions, he was also forced to subdue an Elai attacker unarmed, which, as I understand, he did with help of an unconscious drop trooper—proving once again that Spaceborne are the most dangerous soldiers in known space, even when unconscious and being used as a blunt weapon by a determined medic.”
A chuckle went through the dim room. Colonel Terrell continued, “Captain Suarez here defended her ‘Hawk as it was lifting, and after being thrown from the bird as it went down and sustaining significant injuries, she maintained her composure, located her partner in the dark, and managed to move thirty clicks with a bad leg and multiple busted ribs. Once they linked up with us, she stepped up to fill the role of medical provider, since the brigade surgeon went down in the drop. Her organization and leadership saved a lot of lives during the assaults on the command post. She was also forced to defend the aid station from several Elai infantrymen who’d broken the lines, using her pistol to kill two of them attempting to storm the aid station.”
A respectful murmur went up from the officers in the crowded room.
Colonel Terrell turned to the two soldiers standi
ng in front of him and said in a firm voice, “Stand at attention, Valkyries!” They snapped to attention.
“It is my distinct privilege to award you both the Silver Star with the sunburst device for valor in combat.” He opened his hand and revealed the two decorations. He quickly pinned the decoration to their fatigues, and then spoke in a voice that was directed to Brian and Elizabeth, but carried throughout the small room, “I realize that this is normally done in front of your unit—in front of your brothers and sisters. I’m deeply sorry we couldn’t do that. What happened to Valkyrie Station will never happen again. Not while you’re part of the Spaceborne.”
Elizabeth, confused, cocked her head slightly and replied, “Sir…we aren’t Spaceborne…”
Colonel Terrell grinned lopsidedly and turned to the soldiers in the room. “She doesn’t think they’re Spaceborne. Well, she’s wrong. I say if you fight and bleed with the Spaceborne, you’re SPACEBORNE!”
In unison, the officers and NCOs in the room the room roared back, “FEET FIRST!!” There was moment of cheering.
Colonel Terrell nodded and turned back to Brian and Elizabeth. “I think that sums it up, Spaceborne.” He pointed at them. “You two have a shuttle waiting. It’ll get you up to the Temperance. Check on your friend, get fixed up. We have some mopping up to do here. If you need anything at all, you give me a holler. Got it?”
Brian and Elizabeth nodded and said in unison, “Yes, Sir, “
Terrell nodded. “Good. Get moving. You lift in ten minutes. Dismissed.” Brian and Elizabeth saluted and left the command post.
Sergeant Major Binda spoke from the side of the crowded command post, “T-t-time, Sir. Major General Abbasi is here.”
Colonel Terrell turned to the officers. “You all, get back to your units. Take care of your people. We’ll teleconference at 1800 tomorrow to go over numbers. Dismissed.”
The soldiers in the room came to attention and filed out. He could hear Colonel Travis loudly and cheerily telling one of the other officers as they left, “Ah TOLD him a stallion was a male horse, meant fer ridin’ and breedin’, but he just didn’t believe…” The cheery Texan’s voice faded as he exited the tent.
Colonel Terrell stood a moment, then nodded at his sergeant major and left the tent. He turned and walked a short distance away, near where the old defensive line had been. The positions were abandoned now, littered with shell casings and the wrappings from energy grenades. Here and there were dark stains on the ground.
He saw a petite figure in a simple duty uniform with its back turned to him. The soldier was flanked by two large alert-looking power-armored soldiers with rifles. As he approached, one of the soldiers nodded respectfully. “Sir.”
Colonel Terrell nodded politely in return and stepped up beside the small woman. She stood perhaps five feet tall, give or take, and wore the three stars of an Earth Alliance major general on her shoulders. They stood in silence for a few moments. Eventually, she spoke in a pleasant voice with a lilting accent, “Looks like a hell of a fight, Michael.”
He nodded and responded, “Yes, Ma’am. It was a rough one.”
She shot him a sidelong look. “Harder than Beta Cygni? We were pretty deep in the muck on that one, too.” He chuckled softly, remembering.
“Almost, Ma’am. At least there’s no scorpions here on Desolation.” She raised an eyebrow at this.
He smiled slightly and explained, “Desolation? One of the survivors of the hospital that got overrun was calling it that. It sort of stuck.” She smiled very slightly.
“Desolation.” She looked out at the grey, coarse sand, and low, scrubby grey bushes, broken up only by the burned-out hulks of the Elai tanks, now silent and cold. The wind whipped the grains of sand around playfully. Nothing moved in front of them, and there was very little sound aside from the muted rumble of the unending convoys passing behind them.
She nodded in apparent satisfaction. “Desolation is appropriate. I like it.” She turned to face him. “Michael. The Elai managed to withdraw the vast majority of their forces off of this world. They haven’t responded to our requests for negotiations, nor do they seem inclined to capitulate. I’m afraid this isn’t nearly over yet.” She paused, looking up at him, before turning back and looking back at the wrecked vehicles. “There’s also the matter of where the Elai obtained the human items they had. The Office of Strategic Services is working very hard on that as we speak.” Terrell nodded, not speaking.
She turned and looked right into his face with her piercing brown eyes. “Michael, I’ve decided to relieve Brigadier General Tolleson. He’s being reassigned to the Materials Sustainment Command, from which he’ll retire.”
Terrell tried and failed to keep the surprise off his face. “Why, Ma’am? We won.”
She sighed. “Michael, it’s not that simple. The public and the government see this as a pyrrhic victory at best. We took embarrassingly high losses against a technologically inferior enemy. The Spaceborne alone had 7,502 casualties, and 1,652 killed in action. The support units also suffered heavily when they counterattacked. Many hundreds more were killed there.” She frowned. “That doesn’t even begin to count the casualties the Navy took, which will undoubtedly run into the tens of thousands.” She fell silent for a moment before continuing with a sardonic tone in her voice. “It doesn’t help that tri-vid of what was left of the hospital after it was overrun is playing nonstop on the news networks, as is the pounding the fleet took in the first engagement in orbit.”
She paused a moment before continuing, “He’s not the only one to be relieved, of course, but he is the first.” She tilted her head to the side and regarded him. Terrell remained silent.
“Michael, the 17th Spaceborne Division needs a commander. It’s been badly beat up and needs to be rebuilt, rearmed, and have the hard lessons learned here on Desolation built into the training plans. I’d ask you if you wanted it, but I know you’d rather stay with your brigade combat team.”
She paused and looked at the ground, then back up with a hard look in her brown eyes, and continued, “Sadly, we don’t always get what we want. I am hereby ordering you to take command of the 17th. Get them back into fighting shape, Michael, and do it fast.” She turned again to look at the burned-out tanks and put her hands behind her back. “I fear we’re going to need them.”
-11-
LOW ORBIT OVER PLANET VICTOR 335, ‘DESOLATION’
ABOARD THE UEAN HOSPITAL SHIP TEMPERANCE
1635 hours, MARCH 27th, 2245.
Elizabeth leaned her head against the massive plasteel window and gazed at the grey and brown world below. It took up most of the window. Beyond it, the deep black of space could be seen with thousands of hard points of light. The comforting sounds of the hospital ship’s mess hall clinked and babbled behind her. People laughing and talking, forks clinking, and the sound of scraping chairs. She felt rather than heard someone come up across from her. She spoke without looking.
“Have a seat, Brian. It’s not exactly an oceanside view, but it’s not bad. Plus, we’re jumping soon, so it’s as good a seat as any.” She could hear the scraping of a chair as he sat.
After a moment he spoke, “Major Moreno is awake.”
Sitting back, Elizabeth smiled at Brian. The stolid NCO gazed impassively back. He continued, “She’s pretty pissed off about not having legs. Mostly because prosthetics take a couple of weeks to make, and she doesn’t want to wait that long.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Yeah, that sure sounds like Fury.” She sighed and looked at the untouched salad in front of her. “God, I’m so tired of this food. I’d kill for a fish taco.”
The sergeant peered at her salad and made a face, then grew serious again. “So, I got this from the admin people. The duty sergeant asked me to deliver it to you. He also emailed it.” He set an envelope on the table.
She looked at it but didn’t touch it. “Orders,” she said flatly.
The sergeant nodded. “Orders.”
Elizabeth l
ooked out the window for a moment, then picked up the envelope, sighed, opened it, and rapidly scanned the contents. After a moment, she sighed again and set it down.
After a moment Brian asked, “Well?”
She pushed the envelope at him. He picked it up with a slight smile and rapidly scanned the orders. He read aloud.
“The newly forming 348th Combat Support/Search and Rescue Wing needs a lead flight nurse.” He looked up and grinned. “Congratulations.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes and went back to looking out the window. Brian went back to reading. He smiled slightly again. “They call themselves ‘The Olympians’. How original.”
Smiling slightly at this, Elizabeth continued looking out the window. In an even voice, she asked, “Where are you going? Earth? I love Colorado. You’re going to really enjoy it there.”
With a shrug Brian responded, “Nah. I’m from Mars, remember? I grew up in cold, thin air. I’ll pass. Plus, I got something more interesting lined up.”
She looked over. “Yeah? What’s that?”
He grinned and replied, “With some scrub combat search and rescue unit that needed a lead flight medic. Call themselves the ‘Olympians’. Can’t even pick an original mythology.” She stared at him and slowly started to smile. He grinned again. “Amazing what you can get when you slip the division administration sergeant a bottle of bourbon, huh?”
She shook her head, her eyes welling up. “You, Brian Agawa, are a complete shyster, a con artist, one of the sneakiest people I’ve ever had the fortune to work with, and you’ll undoubtedly come to a bad end.”
The unflappable sergeant nodded calmly. “I know.”
Elizabeth wiped her eyes and shook her head slightly. “Thank you.”
