by Rod Carstens
Hu stood, with his pistol in one hand and his shovel in the other. More hybrids were rushing through the breach. He slapped his shovel and pistol back on his armor and grabbed his .48 off his chest. He stood straddle-legged amidst the bodies and began to fire into the charging hybrids. One after another fell. He knew others around him were up and firing, but he had no idea how many of the platoon were left. One thing was obvious: there weren’t enough of them to stop the hybrids. They were going to be overrun.
“Fighting pairs.”
It was Nani. She was the highest-ranking NCO left. Hu felt her bump his back, letting him know that she was there. The survivors around them were doing the same as another wave of hybrids entered through the breach. This was it. He and Nani weren’t going to make it out of this one, but they would go down together with a lot of hybrids at their feet. Hu put his rail on auto and sprayed a thousand rounds into the approaching hybrids. Some hit home, dropping the hybrids, while others bounced off their armor in a flash of sparks. Then, as if a wave had hit them, the hybrids dropped almost as one. The fire was coming from the runway area. He turned and saw what had to be most of Charlie Company sprinting across the runway, firing as they came. Charlie Company Marines raced through the dead and dying hybrids to the breach and broke the latest attack.
Hu dropped to his knees and began to pull hybrid bodies off of Elias. Nani and Lena were soon at his side. They found her at the bottom of the pile, blood streaming from her armor. Her medical systems must have been destroyed or overwhelmed by her wounds. Her helmet was partially crushed where the Xotoli had grabbed her.
“Elias, can you hear me?” Nani said.
“Yeah, yeah. I can hear you. You don’t have to yell.”
Hu laughed. That was Elias.
“Pull up my visor. I want to see you.”
They pulled up her visor and did the same to theirs. What Hu saw made his stomach tighten. There was a huge piece of her skull missing—one of the hybrids had struck with her axe. He was surprised she was still alive, much less talking.
“I got that fuck, didn’t I?” Elias whispered.
“Yeah, Elias. You got the big X good. I wish we could have seen its face.”
“Padma, is that you? I’ve missed you, baby”…” Elias said, her eyes distant.
Elias died. Hu, Nani, and Lena stood and looked down at their friend. There were ten dead hybrids around her. She had been a Legionnaire, then a marine and finally a Raider. So had Lieutenant Taro. They were losing their old friends too fast. But they’d died like warriors, just as Aijuba would have wanted. It was in the future for all of them, Hu thought. There was no way he and the others could survive many more battles like this.
“She was never the same after Padma was killed on Rift.”
“She got some payback,” Lena said.
“Fuckin’ A, she did,” Hu said.
Nani was the first to snap out of her grief. “Squad and fire-team leaders, I want a head count. Hu, you’ve got first squad in my place,” she barked.
“Roger that,” Hu said.
Lieutenant Varian from Charlie Company ran up to the three. “Where’s Taro?”
“Dead.”
“Who’s that?”
“Elias.”
“Who’s next in line? Who’s senior?”
“I am,” Nani said.
“Looks like you got the platoon. What is your status?”
“I’ve got them getting a head count now.”
“Let me know. I’ll pass it on to the captain.”
“Roger that,” Nani said.
Charlie Company had set up security while what was left of the first platoon was reorganized.
“First squad on me,” Hu said.
“Second squad on me,” Sergeant Harkin said.
“Third squad over here.”
Hu did not recognize the voice. Schreber must be down. When they began their head count, Hu started to realize just how vicious the battle had been. Out of the forty-four men and women in the platoon who had made the drop, there were only twenty-two left. He glanced up at his platoon readout and saw that all those down were blacks, no yellows or reds. There were no wounded. The hybrids had made sure to kill every Raider they were able to put down. Out of first squad, he only had six still standing—his fire team and two others. When they reported the numbers to Nani, she hesitated before she said, “Okay, you know the drill. Grab any weapons you need and as much ammunition as you can carry. They will understand. Get a move on. They’ll be back.”
Nani’s voice was different. There was a sadness and yet a strength that was coming from her loss. She’d known those killed longer than Hu had, but she was a professional and she had reached down for that hardcore center that she had when she needed it. The platoon did as she had directed and reported to her.
“Listen, we still got a mission. The lieutenant would want us to finish it for him. Harkin, you’re now the acting platoon sergeant. Give your squad to your senior person. Hu has got first squad. Now listen up for my orders. I’m going over to Charlie Company and see if I can find out what happened to the rest of the company.”
Nani turned and trotted off toward the small command group of officers at the other end of the hangar. Hu was suddenly conscious of the responsibility he had been given. A whole squad, and it was only his third battle. He had a hard enough time taking care of himself. Without thinking he had walked over to where the Xotoli lay. There was a group of Raiders standing around, looking down at the giant. They were all silent. When Hu got near enough to understand just how big it was, he was stunned. Its armor was a glistening black. It had two yellow stripes on one arm and some sort of strange writing on its right shoulder. The hole in its chest was as big as a basketball, with orange, yellow, and green fluids oozing out of it.
This was what he had been fighting. This was what had done those things to the children. It could die. It was big and strong, but Elias had killed it. He realized that if Elias had the courage to face this thing and kill it then he did too, and if Nani could step up and take over the platoon then he could damned sure back her up and take a squad. It was time to stop doubting and start performing. Hu turned and walked away from the Xotoli’s body.
135th Penal Battalion
3rd Company
First Platoon
Fenes was lying near the top of the crater with Striker next to him. They had made it back without a problem and were now waiting for the marines, who after securing their LZ were supposed to move in from the west. They could be of no help in the maelstrom back at the Von Fleet LZ. Striker had come to the conclusion that the best thing to do was to wait it out and hope the Marines had a better landing than Von Fleet did. So they had put out listening posts on all sides of the perimeter and gone to ground to wait. Dieter was cleaning his rail for the fifth time when their forward listening post reported movement.
“Say again your last,” Striker said.
“We got hundreds of ’brids heading our way. They’re moving fast both in the dunes and on the plain. I don’t know how many there are. Too many to count.”
“Get your asses back here, most rikki tic,” Striker said. “All listening posts return to the perimeter. I repeat, all listening posts get your asses back here.”
Striker hesitated a moment, then said, “He was right. It looks like a hybrid goddamned family gathering.”
Fenes checked his heads-up but saw nothing.
“Zoom in and change to symbols on your heads-up.”
Fenes changed his heads-up and there they were, just coming over the horizon. Hundreds of red triangles moving fast in their direction.
“What are they doing?”
“Looks like a counterattack designed to take the Von Fleet LZ. If they can do that, that leaves the marines and the Rifts and Wolfs hanging onto two LZs miles apart. They could surround and then roll them up almost at their leisure. Fuck.”
Striker went silent. Fenes knew he was trying to figure out what to do, but as he wait
ed the red triangles kept getting larger. Finally he could not wait any longer.
“What are we going to do?” Fenes asked, real fear gripping his stomach. Hundreds of hybrids heading for their position. They couldn’t stand up to that kind of attack.
“As soon as the LPs get back in, we’re going to do what we came here to do. We’re going to dig in and make a stand.”
“What?” Fenes shouted not sure he had heard Striker.
“We have good cover behind these rocks, and we’ve got a good perimeter set up. If we try and run they’ll just chase us down. We can’t hide, so we fight.”
Fenes didn’t know what to say or do. How do you prepare to fight an approaching horde of aliens with a platoon of infantry?
“But.…”
“Now get your people together and explain what we’re going to do. Remember, you’ve got to sound like you believe in this or we are going to have a panic on our hands and those hybrids will have a field day on our asses. So get your shit together, and we will double up and stay close so there’s no gaps in our lines. Concentrate our fire and try and slow them down until somebody notices what’s going on.”
Fenes couldn’t take his eyes off the red triangles.
“Move, goddamnit!”
Fenes jumped up and went from man to man down his squad. Striker went to Minga and Ardan and explained the plan, then organized the platoon into a horseshoe formation facing the approaching hybrids.
Once Fenes had started to move and direct his squad, he was suddenly not scared anymore. He had too much to worry about. He moved his squad into position near the top of the dune to Striker’s right. He made sure each had good cover and a clear firing lane.
He had just finished setting up his squad when Striker said, “Fenes, Minga, I want you to each send out a fire team to our flanks, about seventy-five yards. They are going to try and flank us as soon as we open fire. Tell your teams not to fire until they see the hybrids trying to flank us. Shit. If we only had some air cover or heavier weapons.”
“Fire team one, on me,” Fenes said while he glanced at his heads-up to see the terrain around them.
“Take that U-shaped dune to our right. Remember, don’t fire until they try and flank us, then open up.”
They left, bounding across the dunes to the U-shaped dune Fenes had spotted. When they were in position, he lay back down next to Striker. Fenes put his scope on the approaching wave. They were three thousand yards out, in range for their rails.
“Fenes, you and the other squad leaders still have those mini-mines?”
“Roger that.”
“All three of you with me. Throw all of them out as far as you can. Don’t worry about placement. A random pattern is going to confuse them more.”
Fenes reached into the leg pocket on his armor and grabbed all of the mini- mines. Then he got to his knees. He watched the direction that Striker and the others threw their mines in, and he threw his in a direction that was still open. With his armor enhancing his arm, they spread out at around a hundred yards. He lay back down in the sand next to Striker. The red triangles were getting bigger by the second.
“When do we open fire?” Fenes asked.
“Wait for my command,” Striker said.
“They’re moving fast.”
“Make sure you give your rail time to read the target so it can guide the round,” Striker instructed.
Fenes rested his rifle on one of the strange black rock outcroppings and put his scope on the horizon. It automatically zoomed in and he could see the tiny figures moving rapidly toward their position. They would appear then disappear behind a dune. Soon there were so many of them that none were ever out of sight. He had practiced for hours on the ship’s simulation range, where the targets were supposed to represent the speed at which the hybrids moved. These seemed to be moving even faster. It was amazing. He glanced up at the range finder—three thousand yards. Now they were moving in groups together. The single individuals must be scouts. Two thousand five hundred yards. The dunes were covered with them. Two thousand yards.
“Open fire,” Striker said calmly.
Fenes fired at a tiny figure that he had kept his scope on for the last several seconds. The target had glowed red, letting him know that the rail had a lock. It didn’t take long, with a muzzle velocity of almost 4,500 miles per hour, for the round to reach the figure. It was knocked back by the force of the round and was still. Fenes stared at the figure for several seconds, realizing he had just killed a living being. Then it disappeared under more hybrids. Fenes began to pull the trigger as fast as the targets glowed red. More and more of the figures were dropping as the platoon poured their fire into the hybrids. Yet they took none of the actions a human would when they came under fire. None stopped to provide covering fire or ducked behind cover. Instead they seemed to run faster.
There was a dune a thousand yards out that Fenes decided to concentrate on. Every time a hybrid appeared above the dune, he tried to knock it down with a round. Some would go down and then stand. Since they were still moving, his rail kept them in the targeting computer, and he pulled the trigger again and usually they went down and stayed down. The hybrids began to return fire as they got closer kicking up plumes around Hu's position. There was strange silence on the platoon frequency. Fenes could only hear the breathing of the other members as they focused on firing into the approaching hybrids.
Red and green streaks flashed over their heads as the hybrids fired focused-energy weapons. The dune was working well as a fortification. The rocky internal structure and sand were absorbing the fire and providing excellent protection. Fenes now was focusing his shots at five hundred yards. The dune and the ground in front of their position were covered with bodies. Yet the hybrids continued to race toward them, jumping over their dead as if they were nothing more than rocks. He could see their faceplates now in his scope. He remembered what Chucha had said about the weakness in their armor being the faceplate. He had practiced firing at a very small, fast-moving target the size of the faceplate to get used to it. He dropped one then another with shots through the faceplate. The hybrids heads disappeared in a spray of blood and armor when he hit one. They were close. Suddenly one then another were blown into the air by the mini-mines. It did not slow them. They continued to run forward even though more and more of them were being blown to pieces.
“These are stupid fucks. No flanking movement. Flankers fire now,” Striker said.
The two fire teams opened up into the wave of hybrids, their fire knocking their targets sideways when they hit. The hybrids were in a classic U-shaped ambush now, with fire coming at them from three sides. Yet they didn’t hesitate or slow their advance. A number of hybrids turned and headed for each of the fire teams. Fenes turned his fire on the hybrids headed for his fire team. He knocked one then another down, while their fire did the same, but there were too many. He saw one hybrid jump and land in the midst of the team. Without thinking Fenes was up and moving. He raced across the sand toward the fire team’s position. They were his responsibility. He had ordered them out there. He couldn’t sit and watch them be overrun.
He landed short of their position then with one great push he flew to the top of the dune. As he came down, he saw a hybrid on top of one of his troops. He twisted and landed on top of the hybrid, throwing it off of the man down. He brought his rail up and fired point-blank into its faceplate. Then he was struck and knocked to the sand by a hybrid coming over the dune. It mounted him and drove a laser knife at his head—it missed by inches.
Fenes twisted under the hybrid and was able to grab its armor and throw it off of him. He jumped to his feet and grabbed his axe off his leg. He snapped it open and faced the hybrid. Just like Mati had taught him—they come straight at you, no fancy stuff, either a jump or rush. This one jumped. The moment it moved, Fenes was already swinging the axe. It caught the hybrid in midair in the side, the ax bit deeply into its armor then it's flesh. With his armor enhancing his strength and all
the adrenaline, Fenes threw the hybrid onto its side like it was a rag doll. It was struggling on the ground. Fenes ripped the axe out of the hybrid’s side and drove it deep into its helmet. The axe crushed the hybrid’s head. Fenes saw blood and gore appear on the inside of the faceplate.
He grabbed his rail, ready for more, but there were none. Only two of the fire team were still standing. Both showed as injured but yellow in his faceplate. They could still move and fight. The other two were blacks. Dead.
“Come on, back to the position.”
The two turned, but one of them couldn’t keep up. Fenes grabbed her around the waist. “Come on, Powell. I got you,” Fenes said.
In two bounds they made it back to the main position. He helped Powell to a firing position then flopped down by Striker and began to fire at the hybrids.
“All back?” Striker asked.
“Negative. I lost two.”
The hybrids continued to advance through the dunes without hesitating. More were being blown to pieces by the mines as well as the concentrated fire of the platoon, but it was obvious they weren’t going to stop them.
“Be prepared to go to fighting pairs on my order,” Striker snapped.
“It won’t be long now, will it?” Fenes said.
“No, not long,” Striker said.
Sui-Ren System
Chika
Naval Special Warfare Squadron
Mike Boat 79
Senior Chief Lee rotated the Mike boat’s engines and came to a hover before they landed. The fighting for the spaceport was still going on, but Dr. Zhad had established a casualty collection point on the east side of the port in what had been an electrical shop. Lee turned off the engines, and two corpsmen ran out to the ship. He recognized Liya Borges from 703.
“Hey, Borges, how are we doing?”
