Chapter 18
A Man In Armor Is His Armor’s Slave
As we scoured the wastes from above, I heard the COM crackle on up front. I moved closer, wanting to see what Malum had to say.
“Gamma Two, you read? This is Captain Malum.”
“Figured sir,” the pilot replied, almost sarcastically.
“Soldier, we are taking anti-air fire from what appear to be Vorgian flak cannons. I am led to believe we have located the—Shoot! Steady! Steady! We have been hit, get your rear over here and give us some support Gamma Two!”
“Uh, sir, we’re presently on a SAR mission under 1 Sergeant Boone’s orders.”
“I don’t care! Scrap the op and get over here! We are losing control of this bird!”
I heard a pause as no voices spoke.
“Stay the course,” Boone’s voice uttered.
My heart beat faster as I pondered what the pilot would do. If he sided with Malum, Boone was liable to shoot him on the spot and take the controls himself. If he sided with Boone, Malum could be all nature of furious when we did choose to go save him.
“Uh… copy that sir, inbound,” the pilot said, cutting the COM. “Sergeant, let’s find Epsilon.”
I smiled briefly at the display of wits by the pilot. He now had Malum believing we were inbound to rescue him, while still sticking with Boone to find Epsilon. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before we stumbled upon something.
“That’s it. That has to be it,” Boone said.
I felt the Corsair descend, landing softly on the snow. The back hatch opened, though Cass and Phil didn’t seem to realize. The door to the cockpit opened and Boone moved out in a rushed speed walk. As he exited the aircraft he pulled his shotgun off his pack and held it ready. Nevin and I followed him, noticing several dead UED bodies that weren’t there before. They had been mostly covered by snow already, and all of our original footprints were gone. I wasn’t entirely convinced we had found the right one, but the dead bodies had to come from somewhere. We entered the building and looked up the spiraling stairwell. Boone on point, we ascended, the stream of bodies as endless as the stairs.
As we neared the top, Boone began to yell.
“House! Sergeant House! Wells? Epsilon, status report!” Boone cried out.
Boone was first to have his head emerge, just as Phil’s had when we first encountered the two refugee Elonian squads. I saw Boone’s speed go from hasty to a very slow trudge as he witnessed the room. My heart sank. When I reached the top as well, I saw blood spattered everywhere, adorned with the bodies of both UED and Elonian Marines. Boone’s face held a firm frown, though he showed no other sign of emotion. Against the wall, in the same location he was when we first passed through, was Sergeant House.
“Malum,” Boone said through clenched teeth.
He walked over to House, kneeling down and securing his tags. He then proceeded to collect the tags of every soldier who lay dead on the floor. Next he approached Nevin and I, gave one last look toward Sergeant House, then began down the stairs again.
“We’re done here,” he said plainly.
As I looked around the room, I noticed that the naval personnel did not appear to be amongst the dead. I dismissed him as a prisoner for the UED nearly immediately however, then carried on with Nevin and Boone back to the Corsair. As we stepped out into the snow once more, I heard voices talking. One sounded like Phil’s, though I didn’t recognize the other. We hurried over to the back hatch to see the swabbie sitting directly beside Phil in the Corsair.
“Missed someone,” Phil said, looking toward me.
Boone said nothing and simply walked back to the front. Nevin and I took our seats as the aircraft once more took to the skies.
“So what’s your name and rank?” I asked inquisitively.
“Ensign Lowell.”
I paused, realizing that the swabbie actually was an officer, higher ranked than either Boone or myself. Despite this he hadn’t seemed to make any effort to take charge.
“Sir,” I stated, saluting him plainly.
“No, no. That’s not necessary. Uh, I’m really not trained for this. I was a back up for Navigation on board the Procyon. I don’t mind you guys runnin’ the show,” he stated, his face nearly expressionless.
“Um, alright. May I ask how you survived the UED attack?” I asked, surprised that he wasn’t using his power.
“I… When we were attacked we took out the first wave… then I ran. I left the team behind and journeyed out into the cold. I laid down in the snow and waited. I heard the gunfire, I knew what must have happened… They didn’t make it did they?” he asked, his face showing signs of distress.
Perhaps he actually didn’t know they were all dead. Maybe he had yet to muster the courage to go find his team dead.
“Sir… Uh…” I started.
“Please, just call me Jeremy,” the ensign requested.
“Okay, Jeremy, the UED did kill them. All of Epsilon are dead. You’re the last one,” I said.
His face became even more troubled, and then he looked toward the floor, making no comment. The ride was silent for a while before Boone returned from the front.
“Ross, we’re off to save Malum’s hide, or better yet, eliminate the Vorgian targets near him. This might be it, we may almost be through this,” Boone said.
“I hope so,” Nevin said. “I’ve had enough of this planet.”
“Likewise. Our experiences here are universally despondent… I’m ready for some solace,” Phil added.
Cassidy said nothing, maintaining her veil of near-silence that she had held since Max’s death. Her bright blue eyes were just barely open and her face remained solemn. Several strands of her brown, shoulder-length hair had come loose from their bindings and were draped across her face. It was evident that she had taken the deaths the hardest.
None of us spoke for the remainder of the trip as we pursued Malum’s downed Corsair’s transponder. As we drew near, the pilot brought us in low, as to help avoid falling into the anti air fire. Then I heard him speaking.
“Sergeant? I’ve got a visual on a large structure… appears to be native in design, but definitely has some human mods on it. I’d call this as the place,” the pilot said.
“COM Malum. He should at least be able to watch how a real soldier does his job,” Boone said menacingly.
“Uh… I’ve got no response. His Corsair’s COM system must be down.”
“Then set us down, we’ve got a war to win,” Boone returned.
As the Corsair landed in the snow and the hatch began to drop, I approached Cassidy.
“Cass, listen,” I said, placing my hand on her shoulder. “I know it’s rough. But hang in there. We are almost through it all. I need you focused on the mission. We’ll have time to remember the dead later. And trust me, remember them we will.”
She nodded quietly, keeping eye contact with me. I took a step back, then made my way out of the hatch.
“I’m with you James. Let’s finish this,” she said, finally snapping back into shape.
The four Rangers and Boone made our way toward the large structure, it’s design more akin to the Capital’s than to any of the observation posts. Vorgian anti-air turrets adorned the top, in several places, as well as some nature of missile battery. I hoped to myself that within that structure we could finally end this wretched mission and prepare ourselves to leave the forsaken world of Marzoc. I held my SR-4, the same one I had been issued so long ago. Nevin had his SMG-56, also having essentially emptied his SF. Boone and Phil both had their SG-13’s at the ready, and Cassidy’s assault rifle was once more held in a combat stance. We approached the structure ready for anything, though even the greatest of preparation is prone to failure.
A series of cracks was heard from somewhere near the building, and immediately I searched for the source of the gunfire. Several rounds pelted the snow around me, others hitting my squad mates’ armor. I quickly pondered how we could perform without the ar
mor. Our dependence on it had grown so great, we were unaccustomed to warfare without it.
Breaking from my distraction I found one of the gunmen, lying prone near one of the AA turrets. I lined up a shot and fired, the 12.7mm round soaring through the air and splitting into his head. I lowered my scope and began a sprint toward the structure as more gunmen arose. Phil held his shotgun in one hand as he raised his pistol with the other to return fire from a range.
We pressed forward quickly, downing multiple hostiles on the approach. As we reached the structure’s outer walls, I heard another mix of gunfire apart from our own. It sounded as if it was coming from the other side of the structure, which may have been where Malum’s Corsair went down.
“We should flank around the structure and try to save Malum,” I suggested.
“Is he worth the time?” Boone questioned.
“Yes, I think so,” I stated.
Without another word Boone led the way along the wall until the corner, making a swift turn. We followed along behind him, moving hastily. When we reached the next corner, we had a clear view of Malum’s Corsair, its nose plunged into the ground. Two Marines and Malum himself were firing toward the roof of the structure. We approached them, keeping our eyes toward the roof until we could get clear shots. In short time the heavy increase in firepower brought down the Vorgian defense. The ringing of gunfire finally was silenced.
“Boone! Where the heck were you!? We already lost two, and the pilot! Much longer and we’d all be dead,” Malum scolded.
“Oh, what was that? A rescue attempt being too late? Sounds so familiar… but where? Oh right, Captain. Epsilon. They are all dead. And it is all because of you,” Boone retorted, anger seeping through his voice.
“First Sergeant! You’re out of line! You need to unders—”
“Shut up Captain. I saved your rear, and without us, you’d be dead now,” Boone interrupted.
“How dare you—”
“Shut. Up. Am I clear, Captain?” Boone stated intensely.
“Are you all just going to stand for this?” he asked us, waving his arms about.
None of us replied, simple silence filled the air. Malum looked as if he was about to give further protest, then lowered his arms, admitting defeat to Boone. Even the two Marines who stood behind Malum offered him no aid.
“When we get home Sergeant, there will be consequences. For now… lead the way,” Malum stated.
“If… you make it home,” Boone replied dryly.
Our group retraced our steps toward the front of the building, where a doorway had been seen. When we arrived, we stacked up, preparing our entrance. Phil and I were the first man on either side of the doorway, which appeared to be some nature of bulkhead placed there by the Vorgians. In place of Ryan I held my hand and counted down from three, eventually displaying the okay, then swiveling around to open the hatch. As I grabbed the circular handle and tried to spin it, I found it locked in place. To make matters worse, our stores of Eupholium remained in Ryan’s pack, which we had foolishly left behind. We were making mistakes, and time after time it was costing us.
“It’s locked. What do we do?” I asked the group, looking back at them.
It was far too strong to be kicked in, and our options were limited. So long as they wanted us on the outside, it seemed there was nothing we could do.
“The Corsair,” Cassidy said, at last speaking again. “We could have the Corsair unload its missiles on the door.”
The simple genius of the idea hit me in an instant. Chances were high that once we had breached the exterior, the rest would be easy.
“You’re right,” I agreed.
The rest of the group nodded, though Malum didn’t seem too pleased.
“I’ll tell the pilot,” Nevin called out before sprinting off toward the parked Corsair.
It wasn’t long before I saw the Corsair lifting upward, Nevin making his way back toward us. We all cleared the area around the hatch in preparation for the breach. A few seconds later a volley of missiles released from beneath the Corsair’s wings, pummeling the door with explosive force. As the smoke cleared, the hatch had been dented and scorched, as well as blown out of its position and lying several meters inside the building.
“Let’s go Rangers! It’s time to end this,” I stated as I led the charge toward the building.
I found myself again forced to swap for my pistol for the close quarters interior. Ammo was scarce, but we were almost out of this mess.
We proceeded down the thin hallway, stepping carefully over the door that lay damaged in the path. Soon it opened up into a wider room with some nature of electronics and wires hanging across all of the walls. We all filed into the room and I began to examine one of the larger pieces of equipment that resembled some sort of radio dish. Then looking back I saw a camera.
“Something’s wrong guys, this doesn’t feel right,” Cassidy said cautiously.
Then I saw a flash, heard a strange buzzing noise, then felt my body go numb. I lost my balance and fell backwards onto the hard, stone floor. I couldn’t hear anything but a strange ringing, and I couldn’t see anything but the ceiling above me. I tried to move but just couldn’t. I started to regain my hearing, the sounds of rushed footsteps clattering nearby. Soon I started to feel my body again as well, but when I tried to lift my arm, it felt incredibly heavy. I was just barely able to lift my arm before it fell back hard onto the floor.
“What just happened?” I asked, finally able to compose words.
I heard a mumbling, then I heard Phil’s voice.
“Some sort of energy pulse. I think… I think our armor has been disabled.”
“We haven’t ever worn it without power before,” Nevin stated. “It’s so heavy, why did they make it this heavy?” he continued in a slight panic.
The footsteps were drawing nearer.
The helmet was light enough I could now turn my head, looking to see Phil sprawled nearby. Then I saw Boone, back on his feet. His lighter Marine armor was actually proving advantageous.
“It’s heavy to bring us closer to invincible. Unfortunately even that wasn’t enough,” Phil said, a tint of sadness in his voice.
I heard Boone grunt before looking over at me, holding his shoulder that had been hurt earlier.
“You need to dump the armor, I need you guys on your feet.”
The thought rushed through my mind. Removing the armor that had so long protected us. We’d all be exposed just like any other soldier. The realities of war grew ever-clearer as every hour on this planet passed.
“Alright, alright, help me out,” I said, trying to lean upwards, though to little success.
Boone ran toward me, then I heard the sound of more gunfire in the room. Boone stumbled, but caught himself without falling. He then turned around and fired his shotgun at an enemy outside my line of sight. Pumping the shotgun, he fired again. It seemed a whole firefight had erupted around us, though for once the Rangers were all helpless. I saw my pistol lying just out of reach of my right hand. With great effort I scooted closer, my fingers struggling to seize the gun’s grip.
“Clear!” I heard a Marine call out.
Then I saw Boone crouch down beside me, removing my helmet and gaining access to the two clips that would loosen the armor. I heard them snap into the open position, and the armor felt looser. I was able to slip my arms out of the suit’s arms, then began to loosen the waist. Boone moved down to unfasten the boots so I could remove my feet. As the suit’s pressure eased up, I began to feel the incredible cold of the planet.
With enough of the suit loose, I slipped off the cuirass, then up and out of the legs. My standard black BDU was all that covered me from the cold. The pants and shirt seemed like so little compared to the armor that had adorned me for over a day. This also marked the first instance that I had been in a combat scenario without the safety of the armor since the Vorgian War.
I removed the backpack from the armor, then shouldered it myself. I also pi
cked my H-81 up from the ground, the armored gauntlet so close to its grip. My feet, covered only by socks, needed some nature of protection, so I began to equip the boots from the armor as a stand-alone pair. As I did so I saw Boone and the other Marines helping the rest of us to do as I did.
Chapter 19
The Eye of the Beholder
Those of us who could kept the Vorgian SAS at bay while the rest of us removed their armor. Removing the armor took a considerable amount of time, but we held firm. The suits were never meant to be removed while powered down, arguably a flaw in design. Though I still had no concrete explanation for what had happened to us. The Vorgians must have designed some sort of trap expecting a power armor team such as ourselves to walk into it.
“Alright, I’m good,” Cassidy said as Boone helped her out of the suit.
With the team prepared, it was time to continue the search for Korth. We could only hope our delays hadn’t given him time to escape the facility.
“Let’s move,” I said, beginning down the hallway now littered with Vorgian bodies.
It felt strange, every step feeling so loose without the firm armor guiding it. I was exposed, vulnerable. Any wrong move could have me killed like every one of those Vorgians now scattered in the hall.
But regardless, we pressed forward. We searched room-by-room, facing little resistance at first. Then we found a doorway blocked by several large crates.
The War Across the Stars Page 22
