by Lance Berry
“This was our posting,” Drake affirmed. “Danielle and I are pilots.”
“And it appears we are to be their chaperones,” a thick Russian accent proclaimed from behind Travis. He spun around and laughed in delight as he faced Pietro Skovarinov and Francis Horatio. “What the hell–!” Travis exclaimed, and shared quick hugs with his friends.
“Francis and I are infantry. The four of us arrived only today,” Pietro explained. “What happened to you, Travis? We didn’t see you at graduation.”
“I accepted early posting,” he replied, forcing a casual tone into his voice, although he really didn’t want to discuss the subject. With the fighting spread so far across so many star-systems, he had honestly never thought to see any of his cadre again, and hadn’t expected the subject of his early leaving to ever come up.
“Eager to get out to battle, huh? I totally understand,” Francis said.
“Marion seemed pretty upset,” Danielle said evenly. “She didn’t agree on your coming out here?”
Travis looked at her neutrally. “We didn’t agree on a few things. Any idea how she’s doing?”
Danielle shrugged. “Last time I saw her, she was going to be assigned to the HC Gibraltar. She also wasn’t wearing her engagement ring anymore.”
“Honey, c’mon,” Drake said as he wrapped his arm around her and gave her a tender rub on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you again, Travis. Really.”
“Thanks, Tony. It’s good to see you, too.”
Pietro chuckled. “That is the first time in almost three years you’ve called Drake by his first name. I guess now that Chang is no longer among our group, he has won his name back.”
All laughed, and decided to share a corner table in the rear so that they could talk among themselves, reminisce about the not-too-distant past, and dream of the future.
Chapter 26
Travis was sound asleep when the first blast came down, shocking him awake. He snapped to and sat upright, bashing his head against the bottom of the bunk above him. He fell back against his pillow and swore as he clutched his throbbing skull. The sound of another hit reverberated throughout the room, and this time he threw his covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed before sitting up in a semi-hunched position. Light cast itself into the darkened room, and he realized the door was open, and soldiers were rushing through the corridor outside.
“Get your clothes on,” one of his bunkmates yelled to the rest of them. “We’re under attack!”
In what seemed like seconds, Travis was dressed in full black and green trooper armor. He raced out to the corridor, putting on his blast helmet as he ran with the pack, heading for the armory as he’d been trained. When he arrived, Lieutenant-Commander Jane and Lieutenant Finkler were already there with the master-of-arms, who was handing out holstered Zuk-Lar .30’s and VK-11 Blast rifles to the arriving troops. “Listen up,” Finkler yelled as each received their weapons and checked them, “The base is currently under attack by three Calvorian light cruisers. These ships are moderately armed, and therefore must concentrate their firepower to bring down the base’s magnetic shielding. These ships do not have Skimmers on board, but they do have troop transports, which are in the process of landing as we stand here! Our gunners are doing their best to bring these transports down, but it is almost inevitable that one or more of them will land. It is your duty to make sure that not a single one of those sons-of-bitches makes it within five clicks of this base! Commander Jane…”
Finkler stepped aside as Jane stepped forward. “You’ll be divided into five groups: Alpha, Beta, Gamma, Delta and Epsilon. My group is Alpha, Beta belongs to Lieutenant Finkler. The others will provide support, so stay sharp and listen to your coms, tech officers. I will point to the individuals in my group, and we will head out immediately.” Jane pointed– at Pietro, Travis, and three other young men and a young woman Travis didn’t know. Jane made a motion with her hand, and Alpha group headed out to the corridor, which ultimately led to the main quad.
The group passed through numerous fresh air recycling gardens and power plants. The thum-thum-BOOM! thrumming on the shields protecting the base’s huge geodesic dome was constant and accented in its percussion by the high-pitched -shreeee-THAM!- of the base’s laser cannons firing at the transports attempting to land in the distance. At one point Travis couldn’t help but glance upward as they marched in single file. He almost gasped at the sight: three Calvorian light cruisers, which were about half the size of a standard battle cruiser, were in a near-perfect triangle formation, raining down concussion blasts and lasers upon the shielding which continually flashed blue-white in defensive protest.
From Travis’ point of view, the ships looked massive, like a pack of ancient Tyrannosaurs gathered to feast upon cornered prey.
They reached the inner airlock, which was a coated sterile white. Jones turned to them as she produced a rebreather mask attached to her chest plate. “As you know, this world has an Earth-like atmosphere, but it’s slightly thinner. Put your masks on as a precaution.”
The group did as ordered. Jones tilted her head away from them, listening as info came to her via the micro-com she had fixed in her ear. She nodded, produced a tactical-specialized dsp and turned back to her squad, eyeing them all in a steely gaze. “Four transports have landed seven miles from here. We’re going out there, arcing to the north to outflank them. Remember: you are soldiers of the United Earth Force. When we intercept them, let nothing stand in your way.”
“Sir! Yes, sir!” they screamed as one. A blue light flashed overhead, bathing the airlock in its soothing glow. Jones pressed a command panel on the wall, and the door cycled open, allowing her team to step to the last portal before them. The inner doors closed behind them and a red light flashed as the outer airlock opened and a rush of air greeted them. There was enough time for Travis and Pietro to exchange an anxious glance, and they stepped forward with the others into the battlefield.
Chapter 27
“Take cover!” Lieutenant-Commander Jones cried almost as soon as the last trooper was out of the airlock. All scattered, their training taking over as they immediately dove in different directions. It wasn’t until Travis hit the ground that he heard the whistle of a heavy object slicing through the air, above the thunderous roar of energy bolts exploding as they bounced off of the base’s magnetic repulsion shields. Travis turned in time to see a concussion torpedo hit the ground near the airlock, debris and shrapnel heading in all directions. He ducked, pressing his face tight into the dirt as he bunched his body into a ball and covered his head with his hands.
After a moment, Travis lifted his head and twisted around to look back at the point of impact. The earth around it had been pushed up at least twenty feet, blocking his view of the airlock. The torpedo had dug in deeply, creating a massive crater–the purpose of which was to seal in all egress points from the base, keeping the human troops inside and unable to intercept Calvorian ground forces, as Jones’ unit had set out to do. “Sound off,” Jones yelled out. One by one, the troops did as ordered. Jones stood up and made a small circular motion. The troops all regrouped around her, and everyone appeared physically fine if just a little shaken.
“The enemy must be tracking us from orbit,” Jones said and pointed to the cruisers loitering above them. “The base’s airlocks aren’t quite inside the shield. That means the troops who’ve landed know we’re on our way. Let’s get moving–double-time it!” Jones headed off at a fast trot, the troops doing their best to keep up with her. “Won’t the ships up above fire on us?” one of the troops, the only female in the group besides Jones asked, her eyes wide and fearful.
“They’re too busy trying to bring down the base’s shields to worry about us for the most part,” Jones said assuredly. “Just keep moving. We’ll have plenty of ground fire coming at us soon enough for you to worry about, Private.”
The unit jogged along for a good couple of miles, the sound of lasers firing at the station
seeming to never be far enough from them. Occasionally, Jones would put her hand to her earpiece, trying to filter out the noise around her as she listened to incoming reports from the outpost’s command center. She would have the unit change direction when necessary, her eyes always darting between her dsp and the direction of north as her group moved in a paralleling arc to intercept them.
“Why don’t we have Heavy Cruisers?” the young woman in the company spoke up again. “Isn’t every base supposed to have Cruisers guarding it?”
“Private Moein, I want you to button it,” Jones said sharply, sparing only a moment to cut the young Middle Eastern woman an abrasive look. “The Cruisers assigned to us are otherwise engaged in a nearby system. I don’t know when they’ll be back, in answer to your next question. That is not our concern right now. Our mission–“ Jones stopped talking as her dsp emitted several rapid confirming beeps. She stopped in her tracks and held up her hand. The unit came to a halt as she quickly tabbed in commands and pointed the dsp off to her left. She muttered something under her breath, then turned to her troops. “Those damn Calvorians moved faster than expected. They’re a mile and a half northwest. Ready your weapons and let’s go. Until we reach them, I want everyone to keep their mouths shut,” she ordered, but looked more in Private Moein’s direction as she said this last. Jones checked the safety on her Blastrifle, making sure it was off, and the unit emulated her. As one they set off, heading swiftly over the uneven terrain.
Less than ten minutes later, Jones ordered them to a halt. She rechecked her dsp and nodded to her troops. “Over that next rise are three of them. Rand, Moein, Dexter–front and center.”
The three soldiers stepped forward as ordered. “You three are reputed to be some of the best sharpshooters around. The four of us are going to crawl over that ridge yonder. We will assess the situation, and when I give the word, you will take them out. The rest of you will stay here, securing this spot,” she said to the others as she briefly turned to them. She then looked back at her trio. “Let’s go.”
They headed across the rocky ground at a decent clip, yet moving in a crouched position. They reached the base of the moderate rise and fell on their bellies. The four of them crawled up the mound, using their feet and elbows to push them up as they headed to the small rise’s top. Finally, Jones cautiously peered over the top and the trio of sharpshooters followed suit.
Travis narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look.There were indeed three Calvorians in similar belly-splayed fashion, their backs to Jones’ unit. One of them stood, looking off into the distance, and Travis was amazed that even under his dark uniform, he could see the outline of the alien’s powerful physique. This creature with the long brownish hair running down its back seemed to be a perfect physical specimen unlike any human Travis had ever seen. It was tall, also–from this distance, Travis could only guess that it was bordering on six-and-a-half feet. Travis breathed lightly, hoping that the air was just thin enough that the Calvorians’ slightly pointed ears wouldn’t pick up the sound of the humans’ respiration.
Jones spoke softly to her troops, never taking her eyes off the enemy. “Ready your weapons. Fire on my command.”The three young soldiers raised their weapons and peered through their scopes, sighting their targets. Jones nodded as she prepared to give the order. One of the alien soldiers turned partially in the humans’ direction, and Jones caught a brief glimpse of the badge he wore just over his heart. Her mouth dropped open in surprise before she regained herself. “Cypher Division,” she uttered, speaking the designation as if it were a curse. “They’re damn decoys! Take ‘em out, quick!”
Even as Travis started to pull down on his trigger, the ground beside him was scorched by laser fire. He swung around and slid his back down the dirt mound, trying to curl into a more protective ball as he swung his head about, searching the terrain for the source of the shot. Private Moein screamed as she was cut down by two shots at once, but this allowed Travis to pick out where they were coming from–another ridge, off to the left. He raised himself up just a bit, quickly sighted his target and fired twice.
A pained cry rang out as a Calvorian positioned where Travis shot at fell backward. Another one popped up, trying to take out Travis, but he and Private Dexter caught him in the crossfire, cutting him down. Jones called out, but the right side of her face suddenly split open and her body tumbled down the small hill. Travis and Dexter each turned, Travis scrambling sideways down the hill like a crab as he spun his Blastrifle upward to take aim at the three Calvorians they had originally been aiming at, who had now made it to the top of the ridge. Dexter managed to shoot one of the aliens, before the other two killed him. Travis killed one of them in turn, but too late he realized the last one had him dead in his sights, was about to pull the trigger–and multiple blasts shot by from behind Travis, slicing through the enemy soldier like shafts of sunlight piercing the darkness after a storm. The enemy tumbled head over foot down the rise, the corpse coming to rest beside Travis, the lifeless eyes staring at him. Travis backed away slowly, and turned to see Pietro and the last two surviving members–Steinholtz and Gutierrez, their name tags said–approaching from the distance. A few feet behind them, Danielle, Drake and two other male soldiers followed.
“I believe the expression goes, you owe us one,” Pietro said with a smirk. “I’ll count it as two,” Travis replied as he climbed down the mound to greet the group. “What are you guys doing here?” he said to Drake.
“Fire’s too heavy for any DFCs to lift, so we were assigned to a unit to provide backup for you guys. We ran into another Calvorian squad that we took care of, but our CO got scratched. We picked you up on our dsp and figured it would be best to rendezvous,” Drake explained.
“Your CO’s not doing too good either, looks like,” Danielle said, a nauseated expression on her face as she looked in Jones’ direction. Travis and the others turned to check out Jones: her face had been sliced through by the Calvorians’ lasers. Her right eye was nowhere to be seen, her left eye was filled with blood from the destruction of the capillaries in it, and the right side of her face hung halfway off. Remarkably, she was still alive and conscious. Her left eye drifted toward them, and the left side of her mouth moved, but only incoherence came out. Travis grimaced, uncertain what to do. “Let me through,” one of the troops in Drake’s group said. “I’m practicing to be a corpsman.” The young man’s voice was barely shaking, and Travis knew it was all he could do to sound sure of himself, but he said nothing to the novice whose name tag read “Bennis”. It was a UEF military practice to send medical students into the field to be stationed at outposts and M.A.S.H. units to receive first-hand experience with wounds to hone their skills. They were usually placed with experienced doctors if being sent out to battle sites however, and as Travis scanned the small group Drake had arrived with and saw no doctor, he surmised that the actual corpsman in the unit had been similarly “scratched”.
All moved aside as Bennis crouched near Jones. He had a medical backpack slung over his shoulder, which he quickly set on the ground and pulled out a medical dsp. He tabbed in commands and ran the device over Jones’ face and chest. He took note of the dsp’s scans, tabbed in some more commands and tucked it back in the pack before getting to his feet and turning to the others. He glanced at Drake, deferring command to him. “Believe it or not, her vitals are nearly stable. I don’t know how long they’ll hold, though. We need to get her back to base.”
Drake considered the facts for what seemed to Travis like a very long time. Finally, Drake shook his head slowly. “We can’t afford to do it. There are other enemy squads out here, who are already on their way to the base. We have to track them down and take them out. We’ll leave her here–“
“Are you out of your fucking mind,” Travis snapped as he stepped forward, standing only a foot away from Drake. “That’s my CO you’re talking about, and your corpsman said she’s stable! We’re taking her back, now!”
“We can�
��t waste time trying to get someone as severely injured as her back home, Travis,” Drake said evenly, trying to keep the situation from becoming more volatile. “You saw what those Calvorians did to your group–you know what they did to ours. There are only eight of us now and if we divide our forces it’ll only make us that much more vulnerable.” He paused a moment, then added in a tone only somewhat more firm, “Besides, as a DFC pilot, I outrank you.”
“What? You’re trippin’ for sure, pendejo,” Gutierrez said brusquely.
“No, he’s right,” Pietro said as he gently put a hand on Gutierrez’ shoulder. “In regulations, DFC pilots are in command of our ground forces…yet this is only when advancing in an attack squadron. Once pilots touch down, ranking soldier is in charge.”
“But we’re all grunts,” Bennis said, his voice cracking anxiously. “We’re all the same rank, who’s gonna lead?”
“The democratic process you Americans are so famous for should suffice,” Pietro said with a snort. “Put it to a vote, yet Travis and Drake cannot raise hands. I say Travis should lead. All in favor?”
Pietro raised his hand, as did Steinholtz and Gutierrez. “All for me?” Drake asked. The two troops in his company raised hands. Danielle didn’t at first, but then her hand slowly went up. For just a moment, Drake looked hurt at her reticence, but he quickly slipped a mask of neutrality back on and turned to Travis. “Deadlock. But Pietro’s right…you’re ranking officer, due to a technicality. Are you really ready to divide us like this?”
Travis stared at Drake icily a moment, then looked at Jones. She was a hideous mess, and Travis was surprised he didn’t throw up just looking at her. He had never seen a sight like her before, with blood from the inside of her head dripping slowly down the ruined side of her face. Her remaining eye focused on him now, and her mouth continued to move with nothing but gobbledygook coming out. He didn’t know whether she might be pleading with him to save her or put her out of her misery. Travis gnawed on the inside of his lip until he drew blood, then looked to Bennis. “Did you scan her brain activity? How is she?”
