by Rob Buckman
“Don’t like each other very much, do they.” Richard whispered as Mike caught up with him.
“Those two?” He chuckled. “You couldn’t separate them with a crowbar.
“Then why?”
“They’ve been picking on each other since training. It never stops, but let any poor sod get between them and see what happens.”
“Oh, I see.” Richard said.
“Oh, they aren’t bunk buddies, just inseparable.” It was an odd comment, and Mike didn’t know what to make of it. They worked their way up the tunnel, stopping and firing, slowing the indigs down. Mike saw the main party was on the move again, but not as fast as before. He switched frequencies looking at Lance Corporal Wilson’s icon.
“What’s up, Sarg?”
“Look for any maintenance shafts and seal them if you can. We have indigs coming down one near here.”
“Copy that, Sarg, will do.”
“INCOMING!” Someone screamed, and everybody dropped to the floor as an RPG went screaming by overhead. It didn’t explode until it was two hundred feet up the tunnel as the thing ran out of fuel.
“Damn! Where the hell did they get those from?”
“Who cares! Let’s get moving before some smart ass back there figures out how to set the bloody fuse.” They ran then, and kept running, some dragging others with them. Mike grabbed two, one under each arm and ran forward. He dropped them and left them to stagger on as he went back and encouraged the others.
“Move it people!” Richard stumbled on something and fell, but Mike didn’t stop to find out if he was injured. He just picked him up and ran.
“Mike, there a monorail train here.”
“Get everyone aboard, we can use it a defensive position.” The track gently curved away from him, and he didn’t see the train for another hundred yards. It was a maintenance train, one car, and a puller engine.
It did give them cover, and a chance for a breather, which Mike gladly accepted. He dropped Richard off and found a defensive position behind the front buffers, the sand plow on the front giving him excellent protection from small arms fire.
“As soon as you’ve all caught your wind, take off up the tunnel again, and keep moving this time.” He broadcast. Taffy and Jenks moved up on each side of him, both breathing heavily.
“Well, so much for the morning workout, what next!”
“A brew up would be nice.” Jenks muttered.
“You English, you would think of tea at a time like this.”
“Not a bad idea, actually.” Mike muttered.
“Trust you to take his side, degenerate, both of you.”
“You going to make a brew up or not?” Jenks snapped.
“Of course I am, what do you think I’m doing over here, playing with myself?”
“Wash your hands before you make the tea then.” Sure enough, a little while later, Taffy produced three mugs of tea, handing two over and sipping his.
“Bit of a pounce that one.” Jenks observed.
“Who?” Mike asked, looking round.
“That Earth rep, that’s who.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Seen it all before. I think he fancies you, Sergeant.” He chuckled. That, along with Richard’s comments fell into place, and Mike nodded. Taffy could be right. Not that it was any of his concern what gender a person preferred.
“Sarg!” His HUD blinked at him.
“Yes?”
“The tunnels dips up ahead, and we have water here.”
“How deep.”
“Don’t know yet.”
“Then fucking well find out!” He suddenly had nightmares of having to swim under water to get out of here. Not that he was worried about himself, but there was no way they could get Sergeant Cooper passed if it was that deep.
“Chest deep, Sarg.”
“Thank god for that. Keep going.”
“Copy that.”
As fate would have it, they just managed to finish their brew before the indigs finished regrouping and started after them again. After that, they lost track of time as they fired and moved, rush, stop, fire, rush, stop fire, in an endless repetitive chain. All three took hit, but thanks to their body armor nothing fatal. After a while, it became difficult to tell where the blood started and the dust began as they mixed. Not that anyone was taking notice. They waded chest deep through murky, trash filled water, and at least for a while they were cool and relatively clean.
“Sarg!”
“What!”
“We made it.”
“Who’s this?”
“Helen, Sarg. I mean Trooper Macintyre, Sergeant.”
“Great Helen. Any help at that end?”
“No, we’re at the station, but still have two hundred yards to get to the LZ.”
“See anyone?”
“Strangely, no.”
“That’s odd. There should be some of our people there.”
“Can’t see anyone, nor can I raise anyone.”
“Shit!”
“It could mean they’d left without us.”
“Don’t say that!” Nevertheless, his heart dropped. Being underground so long and out of communications, the battalion commander might think they were all dead. “Get to the LZ and see if you can whistle up a shuttle. The main party and Sergeant Cooper and the Earth rep should be with you in less than half an hour.”
“And you?”
“Don’t worry about us, we’ll hold them off long enough for you to bug out, is that clear?”
“But Sarg?”
“Is that clear!”
“Yes, Sergeant Grayson.”
“Jimmy, you getting all this?”
“Yes, Sarg.”
“Good, start running.”
“Copy that.” He choked back.
“Well, Taffy, my old son, looks like we get to be hero’s after all.”
“We do? Oh my, my old Mom will be so proud.”
“Warm the cockles of her heart would it?”
“Doubt it, she’s been dead for ten years.”
“Well, it should warm the cockles of someone's heart!”
“My bookmaker, that's for sure, I still owe him money.” All three let go another wave of blaster fire as more indigs poured up the tunnel. It seemed as if there was a never-ending stream of them.
“Oh shit!” Taffy yelled as he went down.
“Taffy!”
“Keep firing! I’ll look.” Mike yelled. Taffy was hit bad this time, his left arm torn to shreds.
Firing with one hand, he reached into his patch pocket, pulled out a can of ‘quick-heal’, and sprayed the wound. Taffy winced as the liquid foamed, cleaning and sealing the torn skin and muscles. Mike stripped him of his remaining power packs and rifle, firing both as he made his way back across the tracks.
“Jenks, you take Taffy and get the fuck out of here, NOW!”
“But! ...”
“You going to give me a frigging argument as well?” He watched Jenks breath hard for a moment.
“No, Sergeant Grayson.”
“Then why are you still standing here.” Mike found a maintenance niche and settled in.
From here, he had a good view of the tunnel back to the last bend. He had two rifles, a blooper with fifty round and six power packs. That should be enough to get the job done. He watched Taffy and Jenks move off down the tunnel in his HUD, wishing them luck. If Jenks could get Taffy back to the LZ and a shuttle, he had a chance of saving his friend, and Mike hoped so. He was going to miss those two misfits. Then targets popped up in his HUD and he started firing.
* * * * * *
“Do you have any idea who I am, pilot?” Richard yelled over the sound of the air screaming passed the shuttle skin.
“Yes, sir, the Captain told me.”
“Then listen to me very carefully, as I’m only going to say this once!”
“Yes, sir.” The pilot looked out of the corner of his eye, seeing his VIP passenger check the magazine of his odd
-looking weapon.
“You will turn this shuttle around and go back to the LZ, NOW!”
“I can’t do that...”
“Because you CO said you had to bring me back no matter what, right.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t give a damn, what he said. Turn this bucket around or I will shoot you and do it myself!” Even over the sound of the air, the snap-clack of the weapons cocking made his point loud and clear. The Pilot 180. Who was he to argue with a loaded weapon?
“Oh shit! Muttered his number two, as he brought the shuttles weapons online. “This is going to get hairy.” In answer, the pilot pulled a circle around the LZ and they let go with every weapon they had. Any indigs in the immediate area were blown to bits and chopped into dog meat by the hailstorm of lethal ordinance.
“Get as close to the mag-lift station as you can.” He ordered, feeling the shuttle slid sideways.
They’d made it out of the tunnel and across the two hundred yards to the LZ, and by some miracle, the advance party managed to reach someone upstairs. This brought two shuttles down, one for the wounded, and one for him. The moment he’d walked aboard and before he’d even got a chance to sit down, the shuttle lifted. He finally reached a seat and looked out the port, expecting to see the other shuttle waiting for Sergeant Grayson and his two men. It wasn’t there. It had taken off the moment they loaded the wounded.
“Who’s going back for Sergeant Grayson?” He shouted at the Cargo Master.
“No one, as far as anyone can tell, they are dead.”
“Bullshit! He yelled. They are underground. How the hell can anyone tell if they are alive or dead?”
“I... I... don’t know, sir.”
“Tell the pilot to turn this craft around and go back to the LZ.”
“I can’t do that, sir. Our order are to get you up to the carrier soonest.”
“I don’t give a damn what your orders are, turn this bucket around!” The Staff Sergeant just looked at him and shrugged before turning away. The short barrel of the machine pistol screwed into his ear got his attention very fast.
“Do I have your undivided attention now, Staff Sergeant.” The Sergeant gulped carefully and nodded. “Let go up and have a nice chat with the pilot, shall we?” The Sergeant nodded again. “Good, I’m so grateful for your cooperation.” So, now he was back at the LZ, and he didn’t have a clue what to do.
“Keep those engines hot, pilot. I have a feeling we will need to take off in a hurry.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You are with me, Staff Sergeant, time to earn your pay for the month. The Staff Sergeant didn’t look at all happy, but seeing who was giving the orders, he didn’t have much choice.
“Yes, sir.” Together they ran across the open ground and down onto the platform, but there was no sign of the three men.
“Wait here, I’m going to take a look.” Before he could move, the Staff Sergeant grabbed him by the arm.
“With all due respect, sir, but I do have a battle helmet, and can see down that tunnel, you can’t.”
“Good, point.”
“Yes, sir. You stay here and cover me, and I’ll go look.” Even before he moved, they both heard the sound of blaster fire, and a moment later all three men stagger out of the darkness.
“Good god!”
It was more a question of one man holding the other two up and dragging them backwards. Richard blinked twice to clear his eye and make sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. Mike Grayson had a wound man hanging onto him as he fired back down the tunnel, passing an empty rifle to the one on his left as he accepted a re-powered one from the man on his right. With one good arm each, they managed to dump the discharged power pack out and insert a fully charged one behind Mike Grayson’s back before passing it around. At no time did he have less than two weapons spewing deadly power bolts back down the tunnel in an almost continuous wall of death.
He obviously heard the roar of the shuttle engines and walked backwards towards it. To Richard, it was the most amazing sight he’d ever seen in his life, and without a thought to his own safety, jumped off the platform and run towards the men with the Staff Sergeant in tow. Between the three of them, they sent a massive amount of fire down the tunnel before running for their lived. The respite gave time for the shuttle pilot to lift his machine, and the moment his passengers were clear, he sent a storm of missiles and cannon fire into the mouth of the tunnel. With that he lowered the shuttle to the ground, looking over his shoulders for his passengers. Mike staggered towards the shuttle, thankful that there was one waiting for him. He stumbled up the ramp and literally fell to the floor, totally exhausted, his cammo covered in blood, his as well as Taffy and Jenks. A moment later, the other two men pounded up the ramp, yelling, go, go, go, at the top of their lungs. The pilot didn’t need any encouragement, and even before the ramp closed, he hit full power. It wasn’t a moment too soon and small arms fired peppered the underside. By the volume of fire there had to be better than two hundred people firing that them, but it was RPG he was worried about.
* * * * * *
Prince Richard looked around the drawing room one last time, before turning back to face the holo camera. In what appeared as an extension to the room was in fact the office of the General Commanding the Royal Marines.
“Your Majesty, I have reviewed the after action report of the battle on Borland, but so far I have no indication of what the Prince is talking about.” General Miles stated, looking a little uncomfortable. “I don’t doubt the incident happened just as the Prince recounted it, but from what I saw, there is no corroborating evidence.”
“I see.” The King murmured, looking around at his son.
“Did the rest of my account check out General Miles?”
“Yes, your Majesty, it did. We awarded medals and citation to all the members of the rescue party, including the two shuttle pilots.”
At that moment, the Prince’s comm unit beeped and he held his hand up to interrupt so he could answer it. He murmured a few soft words, nodded his head and smiling at something said at the other end.
“Sent it now.” He cut the connection, smiling to himself.
“You mentioned that you viewed all the after action reports, General.”
“That is correct, your Majesty.”
“Did that also include the shuttle records from the naval shuttle that landed?” For a moment, General Miles sat perfectly still.
“Why would I need too, your Majesty. As far as I know only Marine shuttles were involved.”
“Not true, although I can understand the confusion and oversight considered the chaos during the withdrawal of our forces.”
“I see.” He answered, looking thoughtful. “Sergeant Grayson did receive the Distinguished Service Medal and the Military Cross for his participation in that action, your Majesty, but I don’t see where he deserves the VC as well.”
“Then let me enlighten you, General Miles.”
Unplugging a slim crystal from his comm unit, the Princes plugged it into the drawing room entertainment unit holo. The screen came alive with the forward gun camera as the craft screamed towards the ground. The craft slowed rapidly, and for a moment they all saw a somewhat disheveled and mud covered Prince standing off to the side of the landing pad. The view swung around away from him, and a few moments later pointed down slightly as the craft took off again. A voice could be heard in that background, but with the noise from the engines, and shouted commands, it was difficult to understand exactly what was going on. They did hear the Prince ordering the Pilot to turn the shuttle craft around, then some sort of argument. There was the distinct snap-crack sound of a weapon being cocked, and the repeated order to turn the craft around. The view swung round and the shuttle headed back to the LZ. This time it passed over, and they saw the exit to the subway tunnel. Everyone sat up as the Prince and another man dashed into view, heading towards the tunnel. Next, they saw three men exit, their backs towards the camera
, the central figure holding up the other two. Weapons were exchanged, and the central figure kept up a steady stream fire back down the tunnel.
“Good God!” Someone muttered as they watched the man back towards the shuttle, half dragging the other two men with him, even though he was wounded in several places.
They vanished out of camera view, but just before they did, everyone saw the dirty, blood streaked face of Mike Gray. The Prince cut the rest of it off just as the view swung around and the shuttle head up into the air.
