Valkyrie

by Lucas Marcum

  Spooktown’s impartial voice came through his headset, “Roger, Voodoo Flight. Come right to two nine nine for rendezvous with Smokehouse. Uh...we aren’t tracking Voodoo Five; do you have eyes on him?”

  Lieutenant Junge felt as if it was someone else speaking as he answered, “Negative, Spooktown. Voodoo Five took ground fire and went in. It’s just me.”

  There was a moment of silence, then the air controller responded, “Understood, Voodoo Flight. Come left to two nine nine for gas, then we’ll get you home.”

  ****

  Hill 302, Observation Post X-Ray, 1445 hours.

  Gunnery Sergeant Nelson coughed and spit. Not as much blood in it this time, so that was good. His chest and ribs hurt like hell, and the burn on his chest wall was bad. Glaring at the two freshly dead Elai in the trench with him, one with a Ka-Bar knife still sticking out of its throat, he took a deep breath and tried to stand. Gritting his teeth and forcing himself into his observation position, he raised his binoculars and swept them across the scene below.

  The massive explosion he had heard a few seconds ago was apparently a Banshee crashing. The wreckage had hit and tumbled in a ball of fire until it came to a stop against the fiercely burning wreckage of the tank it had just destroyed with two well-placed air-to-ground missiles. The other Banshee could be seen screaming out over the trees and disappearing into the distance. It left behind it two gently falling canisters, which again split open and rained the delicate silver he knew were hundreds of guided flechettes.

  He saw the gentle sparkling of the tiny rocket motors, then the silver streaks arrowed towards the ground, impacting in a series of black puffs, leaving a low-lying black fog.

  Hundreds of Elai bodies could be seen lying on the ground right outside the perimeter in the smoke, not moving. Nelson panned his glasses back towards the trench line just in time to see a Marine clamber out of the trench and wave an arm. Dozens more Marines scrambled out of the trench, and they charged the surviving Elai taking cover behind the ruins of the wall en masse, firing as they overran the low pile of rubble, shooting down at any Elai remaining, and sending bright blue bolts towards the few surviving Elai scrambling for cover in the cleared area between the wall and the jungle.

  Sweeping the binoculars back to the other wall, he could see Marines firing at the few dark armored shapes left moving, scrambling towards the tree line, dragging injured comrades.

  Lowering the glasses, he tried to catch his breath. Hearing a familiar noise, he looked up as three Specters flew by in formation. He raised the handset, coughed hard, and keyed the mic. “Ironjaw Six, this is Seven. Looks like they’re bugging out in the east, Colonel, and whoever’s running the show in the west wiped those little fucks out. I don’t even know if you can hear me. Radio’s shot to shit. If you can, it looks like they’re bugging out. Colonel, tell ‘em we won. Ironjaw Seven…” He stopped to cough again and spat a stream of bright red blood, “Ironjaw Seven, out.”

  Gunnery Sergeant Nelson sat down and gazed into the deep blue of the sky, noting how pure blue it was as he closed his eyes.

  -22-

  “That Such Men and Women Lived”

  ABOARD THE UEAN THOR’S HAMMER

  1545 hours. November 24, 2247

  Elizabeth sat in a baggy, poorly-fitting uniform with her hands in her lap, numbly staring at the plate in front of her. It was all wrong. The music. The food. The paper turkeys and leaves the Navy galley stewards had hung in the officer’s mess. It all seemed so garish—fake and inconsequential, like someone was going through the motions but didn’t understand what they were doing.

  She bowed her head and tried to force herself think of what she used to do back home on Thanksgiving. Before all this… The memories of her mother came to her. Her brothers and her seemingly endless aunts and uncles, the loud talking and raucous get togethers around the holidays. Unbidden, her mind turned to the fallen. Jonathan Wilkowsky. Svetlana Androvich. The private in the tunnel. The Marines in Paradise Station.

  Quietly, she began to weep. She felt rather than heard someone sit down across from her. Wiping her eyes, she looked up and saw Tony.

  Smiling through the tears, she greeted him, “Hi, Tony. You look like you lost a fight.”

  The Marine officer smiled at her, the nasty bruise on the right side of cheek and black eye standing out on his freshly shaven face. He reached across the table and took her hands. He spoke in a gentle, teasing tone, “You don’t look so hot yourself, toots. That uniform…it’s a little big.”

  Elizabeth looked down at the billowing uniform, sniffed, and laughed slightly. “Yeah. I borrowed it from Jimenez. She’s a little bustier than I am.”

  Tony gave her a half smile and cocked his head. “Something wrong with your uniforms?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Nothing, except the ones I took down to the planet ended up buried under six feet of mud, and the ones I left up here got blasted into space when the Thor took a hit. I was wearing everything I own, outside of my dad’s house in San Clemente.” She suddenly giggled, “I hope the Elai like my underwear. They got all of them except the ones I was wearing!”

  Tony’s concern turned into a grin. “Well. Excuse to go shopping when we get home?”

  Elizabeth leaned forwards cross the table and fake whispered, “Tony, want to know a secret? I don’t need an excuse.” She smiled and sat back, pushing the tray of artificial turkey away with a look of distaste. She looked at him and said, “I can’t even look at this turkey. It’s almost an affront to the holiday.”

  Grimacing at the plate, Tony replied, “No kidding. It’s awful.” They lapsed into silence, the distant sounds of the sparsely occupied mess filling the silence.

  They sat in silence for a moment, then Tony asked, “Where’s Colonel Moreno? Did she come up?”

  Elizabeth nodded and replied, “She’s here someplace. She said she had some business down on the flight deck. Don’t know what. She’s still pretty pissed off that her Valkyrie is unsalvageable. I guess it took a ton of missile fragments during that stunt of hers.” She shook her head and lapsed into silence.

  After a moment, Tony said, “I talked to Colonel Assad earlier. They’re not sending the hospital back in. Too many hurt in the quake, too much equipment destroyed. They’re going to use the clinical people here on the Thor to augment the medical staff.” He paused. “The 18th is moving in, but they’re setting up further north. I guess they don’t expect much more fighting. There was a mass surrender last night. Couple thousands of them came out of the jungle.”

  Elizabeth sat up at this information. “Surrender? The Elai? They don’t usually do that. We capture them, but they don’t surrender.”

  Shrugging, Tony answered, “I guess these ones did. The ones down at Paradise Station sure as hell didn’t.”

  Elizabeth shivered, remembering the assault on the outpost and the fighting in the bunker. “No, they didn’t at all.”

  Across the mess hall, the hatch opened, and a group of soldiers entered. They were in plain uniforms, with no branch or rank insignia, and moved with a casual confidence. Elizabeth idly watched them come in and head towards the chow line. One of them, a stocky man with a shaved head, was scanning the room as he waited in line. For some reason, he looked vaguely familiar. Spying Elizabeth, he paused, then squinted. He then nudged the younger soldier in front of him, a Hispanic man who was animatedly telling a story to the guy in front of him. The younger man turned and looked at her, nodded, then shrugged. The bald man left the line, made his way over, and stood across from Elizabeth and Tony.

  Saluting, he introduced himself, “Major Suarez, Captain Tulp. 343rd Special Forces.”

  Elizabeth returned the salute and gestured for the young officer to sit. “Captain! It’s nice to see you! I almost didn’t recognize you. You know. Without all the dirt.” She turned to Tony. “Captain Tulp, this is Major Harris. He’s our Marine liaison. He and I just got up from Paradise last night.”

  The Special Forces o
fficer shook his head. “I heard your hospital got rocked. Sorry to hear that. That must have been rough.”

  Tony shook his head and muttered, “Not half as rough as where we were told to ‘fall back’ to. Paradise Station was a shitshow.”

  Tulp tilted his head and looked back at Elizabeth. “Holy shit, Ma’am. You went from our little rumble in the jungle to THAT?”

  Grimacing, Elizabeth responded, “Yeah. Like Tony said. It was a shitshow.”

  Shaking his head admiringly, the soldier replied, “Well goddamn. You just have all the luck, don’t you?”

  Elizabeth shook her head in disgust. “Tell me about it. You’re welcome to a big helping of that luck if you want it.”

  Leaning forward, Tulp continued, “Listen, Ma’am. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but you and Sergeant Agawa did us a solid, pulling my guys out of there and saving that wiseass Lieutenant Alvarez. So, ‘cause of that, I’m gonna let you in on something.” He looked around, making sure that the nearby tables were unoccupied, then confided in a low tone, “You remember those data cubes the LT pulled out? Well, they’re not Elai.”

  Trading a glance with Elizabeth, Tony asked, “Not Elai? Then who?”

  Shrugging, the young officer continued, “Don’t know. But it did give us a map of all the charted systems whoever they are have been to, and we pulled a TON of data from that…including the location of the Elai home system.”

  Stunned, Elizabeth sat back. “No. Seriously?”

  Captain Tulp leaned back. “Yep. I have a friend in Naval Intel, and those things went straight to the top. Suffice it to say, this game’s about to change.” He stood up, then paused, grasping Elizabeth’s hand in a firm handshake.

  “Ma’am, again. Thanks. If you ever need anything, ping me. You can get me through Special Forces in the 17th Group global directory.” He turned to Tony and offered his hand again. “Sir. Nice job down at Paradise. I’ll see you out there.” With a final nod at Elizabeth, the young officer in the unmarked uniform moved back to the food line, to his place, which was being impatiently held by Lieutenant Alvarez.

  Tony murmured, “Holy shit. Their home system.”

  Watching the Special Forces team disappear into the food pick up area, Elizabeth nodded. “Yeah. Might mean this is getting close to a close.” She paused for a moment. “Still. I don’t think they’ll roll over that easily.”

  Tony’s face looked thoughtful. “No. No, I don’t think they will.”

  ****

  Down several decks in the commander of the Air Wing’s office, Lieutenant Colonel Elise ‘Fury’ Moreno strode with a purpose. Immaculately clad in her dress uniform and standing five foot four inches tall, the Navy enlisted sailors nonetheless scattered at the look on her face and the rank on her shoulders as she strode through the administrative offices of the Air Group.

  Reaching a hatch that read ‘CDR Jim Warren: Commander, Air Group’, she opened it and strode inside. Walking into the antechamber of the office, she stormed up to the petty officer on duty at the Captain’s Desk. Next to him sat a seaman apprentice engaged in some administrative task.

  In an icy tone, Elise said, “I was ‘summoned’?”

  The sailor looked up from his monitor and paled upon seeing Elise. “Ma’am, we, um, I mean, the commander invited…” The man continued to stammer for a moment. Elise’s eyes bored into him. The junior sailor wisely kept his eyes on his computer screen.

  After a moment she spoke in a deceptively sweet voice, “That’s not what the message said, Petty Officer. It said, and I quote ‘Lieutenant Colonel Elise Moreno, you are hereby summoned for a personal debriefing with the commander of the Air Group, UEAN Thor’s Hammer.’ It said I was to be here at sixteen hundred, and to wear professional attire. So here I am.” Elise gestured to her uniform, immaculately tailored, with a stack of ribbons on her left chest, topped off with the dark blue of the Earth Alliance Distinguished Service Cross with two tiny bronze oak leaves on it.

  The petty officer opened his mouth, then shut it. Looking at the furious officer in front of him, he lifted his handset and spoke into it in a low tone, “Sir. Yes, Sir. Lieutenant Colonel Moreno from the 348th Search and Rescue Wing is here for her appointment… Yes, Sir, I know, but I strongly recommend that we don’t take up any more of the colonel’s time… Yes, Sir, I understand, but the colonel is very busy… Yes, Sir. I’ll send her in.” He hung the phone up and said politely, “Colonel, Commander Warren will see you now.”

  Elise smiled sweetly to the sailors at the desk and blew past them, letting herself into the commander’s office. As the hatch closed, they could hear her starting to speak, “Who in the fuck do you think you’re talking to…”

  The hatch closed, blocking out the remainder of the conversation. The petty officer looked at the enlisted sailor. After a second, the sailor spoke reflectively, “You know, that detail scrubbing the air recirculators doesn’t really seem all that bad sometimes.” The petty officer couldn’t help but agree.

  Fifteen minutes later Elise left, leaving the hatch open behind her. With a snappy nod to the two enlisted men sitting warily at their desks, she disappeared into the passageway. A moment later, Commander Warren came to the hatch leading to his office. He stood there in silence for a minute, then spoke in a strangely subdued tone, “Robby, clear my calendar this afternoon. I…I think we’re done for the day.”

  The enlisted sailor nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  After a moment, the petty officer asked, “Sir, what the fuck was that?”

  The officer shook his head, bemused. “Roberts, I have no idea. All I know is I haven’t been chewed out like that since I was a middie.”

  The sailor blurted out, “Sir, she’s like five foot nothing! How can she…”

  The commander shook his head slowly. “I don’t know, Sailor. But I know now why her call sign is ‘Fury’.” He sighed and continued, “You know, I don’t even think she noticed why we asked her to come in. She didn’t even blink when I told her the Marines put her in for a Navy Cross.”

  The petty officer regarded the hatch to the hallway for a moment, then said, “Sir, all I can say is, I’m glad I ain’t in the Army. I feel like she snacks on junior officers for lunch.”

  Commander Warren shook his head. “No kidding. Well, I’ll email the info to her chain of command. Let THEM deal with her. Once was enough for me.”

  The petty officer nodded emphatically. “A-fucking-men to that, Sir. I’ll get the paperwork together.”

  ****

  In the hallway leading to the lifts, Elise strode purposefully, turned a corner, and came face to face with Major Papadatos, with the Marine pilots from the Grim Reapers behind him. She paused, watching the group of pilots as they snapped to attention on seeing her.

  Major Papadatos greeted her cordially, “Good afternoon, Colonel.” He paused, seeing her name plate, and said, “You’re Colonel Moreno. Ma’am, it’s a privilege.”

  Pausing, she eyed the Marines standing respectfully at parade rest. After a second, she asked, “Who are you?”

  The Marine officer gestured to his pilots. “These are the pilots from VMFA 221, the ‘Grim Reapers’. That’s Lieutenant Brown, that there is Lieutenant Barclay, and the tall, dopey looking one there is Lieutenant McCune. We call him Lawndart.” He paused, then continued, “We saw you grease that Elai fighter. That was damn impressive flying, Ma’am.”

  Elise nodded calmly. “I know. Probably only a couple of people aside from me could have done it. So, you’re Reaper Flight, huh? Which one of you is Reaper Three?”

  Lieutenant McCune nodded and spoke in a low voice, looking at the ground, “Uh…that’s me, Ma’am.”

  Stepping forward and peering up at the lanky pilot’s face, Elise’s eyes narrowed. “You. I remember you. You thought you could take me at zero G racquetball, and when I destroyed you, you slapped my ass and told me if I ever needed flying lessons, to look you up.”

  She glared at him for a moment longer, then half smil
ed and stuck her hand out. “Thank you. You saved me and my crew’s lives out there when you smoked that second fighter. We won’t forget it.” She paused and grinned cockily. “And if YOU ever need flying lessons, Hotpants, you know where to find me.”

  With another grin and a collegial nod to Major Papadatos, she disappeared around the corner.

  There was a moment of stunned silence from the four pilots, then Lieutenant Brown burst out laughing. “Hotpants? HOTPANTS!! That is SO going on the side of your Specter!”

  Lieutenant Brown chimed in in a high falsetto, “Oh, Hotpants, you’re my hero!”

  Shaking his head, Lieutenant McCune muttered, “I fucking hate you guys.”

  Major Papadatos broke in, “You two, shut up. We have business to attend to. Someone got TWO air-to-air kills. I believe it was…”

  The two lieutenants broke in in chorus with “HOTPANTS!!”, and proceeded to burst out laughing.

  Major Papadatos grinned. “Indeed.” Turning to Lieutenant McCune, he said, “Well, ‘Hotpants’. Drinks are on you. Let’s go.”

  Shaking his head, Lieutenant McCune lead the still snickering group of pilots towards their ready room. As they moved down the hall, Lieutenant Brown stopped laughing and said, “Did you see she’s got three Distinguished Service Crosses? How the hell much action do you have to see to get that?”

  Lieutenant McCune responded, “Or how goddamn crazy do you have to be to fly into situations that earn it? I think she’s fucking nuts.”

  Holding the door open to their ready room, Lieutenant Barclay said thoughtfully, “You know, the general consensus is that we’re crazy for what WE do, and if we think she’s crazy…well. I guess we got to see why she’s got her reputation, huh? Mami can FLY.”

  Major Papadatos answered for all of them, “Ain’t that the no-shit truth.”

  ****