by Michael Ryan
“Your retrieval location will be sent out shortly, Lieutenant. Do your best to get the civilians to safety, but we simply don’t have a way to pick them up.”
“Hell…”
“War is Golvin, Lieutenant. One more thing. Those muldvarps are Alpha-Priority. Whatever else you do, get them on the boat. Command has you personally responsible for the safety of three live aliens that can speak lizard. Don’t screw up, Ford. It’s a career changer. Out.”
The comm went dead.
“Veetea,” I said in the squad comm. I wanted everyone up to speed.
“Go.”
“I’m sending up three prisoners. Alpha-Priority applies, don’t screw up, etcetera, etcetera.” I’m not sure if my sarcasm carried through, but it didn’t matter. I’d follow my orders the best I could. I didn’t care much for saving the slave masters over the slaves, but I understood why the muldvarps were important. “I’m also sending up two hundred rescues. I want to do our best to get them away from this building. It’s about to become ground zero.”
“Roger,” he said. “Send them.”
“Callie,” I said.
“Go.”
“Get Abrel and Mallsin and get back to the ladder. Command is about to make a crater out of this place, and we’ve got to move these people out in the next few minutes if they’re going to have a snowball’s chance.”
“On the way.”
Next, I directed Sergeant Bollington to lead the prisoners up the shaft. I didn’t want to say anything out loud that would panic the group, but at the same time I needed us to move quickly.
I lowered my volume.
“Sergeant,” I whispered, “we’ve got a situation.”
I explained everything quickly in punctuated form and then told him to do his best.
“I’ll be last up the ladder, sir,” he said.
“Like a good space marine, Sergeant.”
“Death from the sky!”
The all-company comm update arrived shortly after we began our evacuation.
I set a counter in my display.
<<30:00>>
<<29:59>>
<<29:58>>
<<29:57>>
Nothing gives you a reason to hurry more than knowing you have less than half an hour to save two hundred people from being nuked after you supposedly showed up to save them. Snafu, I thought.
Snafu times two.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Force and fraud are in war the two cardinal virtues.
~ Thomas Hobbes of Malmesbury
Once we were on the ground floor of the warehouse, I gave a general order. “Launch two missiles and a dozen grenades if anything comes through those double doors.” The Drekis we’d exchanged fire with earlier had apparently been ordered to stand guard over whatever was beyond them and not to go on the offensive.
I’ll confess that I took some satisfaction in knowing that whatever they were guarding would soon be vaporized, along with them.
It took twelve minutes to get everyone out of the basement. With less than eighteen minutes left on the clock, I had to quickly map an escape route that would give the newly freed prisoners a chance to enjoy their liberty. There were no engagements on the battlefield around the factory, but it was still dangerous. Fires burned in troop transports, tanks, and downed heli-jets. Secondary explosions, minefields, and wounded Drekis desperate for a final kill were potential threats. I also had to maintain awareness for a last minute strafing run or any fresh lizards showing up.
I scanned through the hole we’d blown in the wall.
A lone JFUA heli-jet was overhead.
I pinged.
“Make it quick, Lieutenant,” the copilot answered.
“I need mapping for–”
He cut me off but sent a file. I opened the attachment and flipped through views taken from above the factory. The information was excellent, but sometimes being given a plethora of intel was paralyzing. I moved a handful of different maps into four distinct files and sent them to Callie, Abrel, Mallsin, and Veetea.
“I want recommendations,” I ordered. “You have one minute. We have sixteen minutes until everything goes boom.”
With each of them scanning separate views, I hoped a consensus would result in our best option. I left them to their task.
I set my external speaker at full volume. “Sergeant Bollington!” it screeched.
“Here, sir!”
“In about a minute we’re going to scramble out of here. I want you to arrange at least a semblance of order out of this cluster. We’ve got to put a couple of kilometers between us and this hellhole in under fifteen minutes.”
“Roger that,” he said. “We grabbed your team’s expelled emergency chutes, sir. With your permission, I’d like to assign six armored troopers to carry the pregnant women who can’t possibly run fast enough.”
“Make it happen,” I said. “I’m sending a message to Red Squad as we speak. They’ll assist you.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“No time for being polite. Move your ass.” I went back to the hole in the exterior wall and scanned the field again. “Callie, talk to me.”
“I’ve got something, here,” she answered. I opened the file she sent. Topography reading was one of her many talents. Not my favorite, although I must admit it’s saved my life more times than I can count; her other skills made that life worth living.
She’d highlighted a route that took us around the factory and into the hills behind it. There were more than a few unknowns, but in her estimation the unarmored escapees would have the best chance of surviving if we put some of the natural landscape between them and the explosions.
I figured Command was likely to carpet bomb the entire city. Why waste a good bombing run if there were things to blow up?
Abrel had come up with a similar solution.
Mallsin had also routed us through the hills, although she’d highlighted going around the building in the opposite direction.
Veetea’s maps hadn’t included the same views, so I ignored his suggested route, which was based on incomplete information.
“Callie, why do you say right and Mallsin says left? I need an answer in twenty seconds.”
“I’ve got a potential mortar unit here,” Mallsin said. She sent Callie and me a close-up view into a valley.
“I concur,” Callie said. “Updating my route.”
“Get that to the platoon,” I ordered.
I sent out an all-platoon message. “We’re moving in ten seconds. Tag the dead, carry the red, and let me hear what the ancient gods said.”
“Death from the sky!” they responded.
We left the building a few moments later.
Command had ordered three companies to the same evacuation point. I listened in to the exchanges between angry and frustrated captains. The original plan had always been to move all the troops to an operating base two hundred clicks from the town and factory. But after the mission parameters changed, the boots on the ground expected retrieval boats to take soldiers back to the Kuznetsov.
“Never assume anything” was an old mantra that officers knew well, but sometimes hope clouds experience.
“Avery, why the hell are you going in the wrong direction?” Captain Hollingver asked me.
“Sir, I have too many–”
“I saw your report, but that doesn’t answer my question.”
“I’m not abandoning these people, sir.”
“Goddammit, Avery. You’re a lieutenant. I’m a captain. Does this compute with you?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “With all due respect, sir, I’m disobeying you.”
“Versus,” he said. “Bloody fucking Golvin. You can’t just make up your own rules as you go.”
“If saving pregnant women and not abandoning fellow troopers who’ve been captive for years on this godforsaken rock means I’m a bad soldier, sir…I’ll take the label and whatever punishment accompanies it.”
“Hell,” he said. �
�We’re probably screwed here anyway. I’m sending you new orders, Avery. No point in you getting hosed by some political asshole if I get dusted. Take care, and…Avery?”
“Yes, sir?”
“I don’t condone your loose ways, but you’re a good soldier.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Good luck.”
He sent me an updated mission statement. It directed me to use whatever means we had at our disposal to save the lives of the rescued men and women under my authority. Ultimately, I don’t know if it mattered. The Drekis launched a massive counterattack a few minutes later.
“Did you see that?” Abrel asked.
“Yes.”
“The entire…”
“I saw it.”
I couldn’t see the assault visually, but my display screen lit up with warnings and leadership updates. The whole fleet of transports was destroyed, including what was left of the tank support company. The few aircraft we had still had in the sky were being pursued by squadrons of newly arrived Dreki helis.
Captain Hollingver’s icon went black, followed by several platoon leaders who outranked me.
Somewhere in the onslaught of messages I’d received there was probably an auto-notice informing me that I was the acting captain of Charlie Company.
I ignored it.
I also ignored the majority of other messages, but a high-priority burst caught my attention.
<
I selected Y and held my breath.
Yes, just because it’s liquefied oxygenated gel doesn’t mean I’m not breathing.
Echovel!
To: (acting) Captain Ford, Avery
UNSN: AF-98o8-9oo876.rkl
CIRO: Joint Forces Command Section Holscerefing
Captain Ford:
Updated mission:
Unforeseen circumstances have necessitated the repositioning of the Kuznetsov.
Continue with last standing orders.
Maintain no-contact protocol.
Map and catalog.
Retrieval: Unknown <
I opened the attachment and groaned.
In a suit, groaning is more of an attitude than action.
For general distribution:
Command regrets the unfortunate circumstances leading to your situation.
All troops should continue to follow their last standing orders.
If retrieval is not forthcoming, all troops are required to follow proper self-destruct protocols.
May whatever deity you worship grant you mercy.
S/ General Vinstooler
16FEB2311 HCE
YOD12.3453 TCT
8976.34.32 PEC
I shared the news with my core and squad leaders and permitted them to extend the information downhill.
There was no point in sugarcoating our situation.
I explained quietly to Sergeant Bollington what we were up against.
“I’ll do my best to keep everything running smoothly,” he said.
“Roger that.”
I moved Callie, Abrel, Mallsin, and three armored troopers I had reason to trust as competent out to the point, rear, and flanks. I wanted a good warning if anything was out in front, or stalking us.
Several hours in, we’d had no contact.
The massive bombing Command had planned never materialized. Whether it had been called off or if the bombers had been destroyed, I had no way of telling.
The Gurts and Teds had stopped using starships to attack other starships many years before the coalition made them allies. The massive craft were like cities, and it was too risky and expensive for either side to use them as offensive weapons.
Very early in the Tetra War, a Guritain admiral had defied leadership and made the mistake of thinking he could outsmart a Tedesconian fleet commander. It was disastrous for both sides and resulted in the loss of tens of thousands of troops and several billion in each of their respected currencies.
It never happened again.
Whether the Drekis had the means and will to assault the Kuznetsov directly, I could only ponder about. I don’t think anyone knew. But what was beyond a doubt was that our starship had moved out of communication range. My scans into space revealed something substantial that had not been there before. Logic dictated it was a lizard craft of unknown size and capability; however even that was an assumption.
Maybe it was a Katash starship?
Perhaps the redheaded space travelers were scheduled to help with the rescue of their people and had just shown up a couple of hours too late?
I doubted my speculation had much chance of being true. Besides, my immediate problems were more prosaic than dealing with starships. They included putting a safe distance between us and the battlefield, securing a source of water so my new charges didn’t die in the wilderness three or four days after I rescued them, and locating a secure hiding place – and more Dreki guards, which I was reminded of as my warning screens flashed red.
<
<
The attack came from our left flank, which meant Corporal Basenz had screwed up. I should have received a warning even if he was dead. I used my coil-gun to shatter the incoming grenades. There was nothing I could do about the antipersonnel bolts, and dozens of the rescued prisoners were shredded. I shouted orders from my external speaker, but most of the group had already panicked.
Those still thinking clearly found cover.
I rushed in the direction of the assault and fired a KE missile through the chest of the first reptile I encountered. There were two more, but I didn’t have time to kill them before someone else got to them.
“What happened?” Abrel asked.
“Someone fell asleep,” I said. “Where’s my flank?”
“I think he just plain fell, sir,” someone from Red Squad said.
“What?”
“Sir, there’s a deep pit here.”
I went to inspect, and sure enough, there was a mine shaft. Or the hole of a giant man-eating worm. Nah, the ground is too rocky. “Callie?”
“Still on the right flank, Avery,” she answered.
“All clear?”
“Roger.”
I keyed over to the all-platoon. “We’re going to be here a couple of minutes. Set up an overwatch. Deal with the injured. Tag the dead.”
“Who would have thought someone would need their backup parachute twice in one day while on the ground?” Abrel asked.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on point?”
“No, Mallsin’s got it.”
“Roger. Yeah, it’s weird. I can’t imagine the kid lived.”
“No way to find out,” Abrel said. “Not at that depth.”
“What do you think it is?”
“Iridium mine core,” he said.
“Really?”
“Sure, they take a deep core and then assay the results.”
“Ass what?”
“Assay. They grind up a sampling of dust, pull out the iridium, and extrapolate whether this ore is valuable enough to bother mining.”
“You know this because?”
“I considered engineering when I was a student.”
“Instead of Specialized Drop Infantry?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re a fucking idiot.”
“Right now, I concur.”
“Okay, tag this kid as a goner,” I said. “Sadly. I’d rather have been able to yell at him for not paying attention.”
“He was obviously paying such good attention he forgot to watch his step.”
“Poor fucker,” I said. The reality was that we couldn’t risk any more time staying in one place. I didn’t suspect the guards had called in reinforcements or I’d be seeing incoming on my scanners, but even that was just a hopeful guess.
With the additional loss we were down to twenty-nine ready-to-fight armored troops.
Of the eight “orange” stat
us soldiers we’d left the factory with, one had died, and two had transitioned into the red.
And red meant death was imminent without immediate medical attention.
I had another decision to make that was ugly but realistic.
We had to abandon the reds.
There was no hope for them, and I needed every soldier’s arms free and ready to shoot if we were attacked again.
“Sergeant Veetea,” I called privately.
“Sir?”
“We’ve got to move. The reds, unfortunately…”
“Understood, sir,” he said. “I’ll explain.”
I had five oranges, including Veetea. “I need you and the other oranges to amp up the painkillers and suck it up. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, sir,” he said. “We’re going to have more of a problem with the civilians and unarmored.”
“Leave it to me.”
I found Sergeant Bollington. “Sergeant.”
“Sir, go ahead.”
I lowered my volume. “It’s Kevin, right?”
“Sir.”
“Stop with the sir. Call me Avery and consider yourself a civilian.”
“I’m a–”
“You’re useless as a soldier in this environment. I need you to be a leader to the unarmored group. For now, set up some loose groupings; do what you can to help us stay organized. Anyone mortally wounded needs to be…I’m sorry.”
“I’m not sure I can sell that to the Katashie.”
“If they insist on carrying the wounded, don’t stop them. But make it clear we’re not slowing this train down. I’ve got to make the entire group’s survival a priority above any one person’s life.”
“Roger, sir. I mean Avery. I’ll make it happen.”
“Good.”
I called in my squad leaders and rearranged the platoon. I reduced the number from five to three squads to account for our losses and renamed them all, out of respect for the dead.
A short time later we entered a valley. It was strategically sound considering our situation. The cliffs and thick trees provided needed overhead cover, and we’d be unlikely to be flanked. The lushness of the foliage indicated we’d likely find a water source and perhaps fruit and small game.
