by P. A. Piatt
“Just give me the shot, and we’ll see about walking when you’re done,” replied Fortis.
“What do you want to do about Beck?” asked Trenas.
“You still have bombs on that drone?”
Trenas and Strickland smiled and nodded. “Fully loaded with twenty kilo bombs.”
“See if you can flush him out and then drop one on his head.”
* * * * *
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Ystremski tried to work his way west toward the encampment, but groups of test tubes and mercenaries moving through the jungle pushed him further and further south. He heard the distant sound of gunfire and remained alert for another salvo of grenades, wary of being killed by friendly fire.
He moved due south for five hundred meters and turned back to the west. He didn’t run into any more test tubes, so he was confident he’d finally rounded their flank. The gunfire ahead of him grew to a crescendo and then died away.
An eerie silence blanketed the jungle.
Dread stabbed Ystremski’s heart.
Is it over? Did we lose?
* * *
Lily watched from the top of the command mech as the intense fire from the test tubes halted the bug advance and then broke the swarm. Thousands of insects twisted and writhed in a shredded pile of bodies. The march stalled. The bugs at the back broke away from the main group and scattered into the jungle. Without human guidance, the test tubes continued to fire into the dead bugs. Black-clad mercenaries moved through their ranks and finally gained control of their charges. The firing stopped and the sudden silence surprised Lily for a moment before he remembered Fortis’ order.
“All mechs, this is, uh, well, this is Lily. Fire a full salvo of grenades directly on the test tubes and follow it up with smokes.”
He watched as the grenades arced across the compound and landed along the eastern perimeter. The attack caught many of the test tubes by surprise, and flying shrapnel opened up many gaps in their ranks. The surviving mercenaries shouted and pointed across the compound where the Space Marines were dug in. The test tubes turned and resumed their charge.
* * *
A loud explosion jarred Beck from his reverie, and his mouth went dry.
What the hell was that?
He grabbed the rifle leaning next to his office door and peeked into the hallway. He saw it was clear, so he moved silently toward the reception area with his weapon held at the ready.
Another explosion made him jump with fright.
What’s going on?
Beck slowly ventured outside and saw two smoking holes in the parade ground. He took cover behind some barrels next to the building and scanned the tree line, looking for the source of the explosions.
He heard the droning noise he’d heard earlier. It was louder now and was coming from somewhere above him.
A Space Marine drone.
Beck shielded his eyes and searched the sky. He caught sight of a craft circling overhead at an altitude of about five hundred meters. He couldn’t see it clearly, but he watched as a dark object tumbled from it to the ground, where it exploded with a loud bang!
They’re trying to draw the bugs!
Beck leaned out from his hiding place and took careful aim at the unmanned aircraft circling overhead. He squeezed off a short burst but missed. The drone was deceptively fast, so he adjusted his aim and fired off a longer burst. The aircraft jerked sideways and banked sharply as his rounds raked one of the wings. For a moment Beck thought it would crash. Instead, the engine pitch rose from a drone to a whine, and the aircraft spiraled to a higher altitude.
Another bomb detached from the craft and hurtled downward. Suddenly, Beck realized it was aimed at him. He dashed between the buildings and dove under the mess tent, out of sight, as the weapon exploded harmlessly behind him. After several long seconds, he leaned out and peered skyward. His attacker was circling far overhead. Beck knew that outside a lucky shot, the drone presented no real danger to him. As long as he remained under cover and moved quickly the bombs would far too slowly to catch him. The explosions might draw a bug swarm, but he could simply retreat inside and bar the doors if that happened.
* * *
Ystremski heard the roar of a grenade salvo, followed by the stutter of automatic rifle fire. The gunfire was north of him, maybe half a klick away, and he advanced cautiously. The grenades told him the Space Marines were still engaged in the fight, but he couldn’t tell who they were fighting. He was anxious to rejoin his comrades, so he turned to the northwest and closed on the battlefield at an angle. The sounds of the firefight grew louder and errant shots whistled through the jungle overhead. Ystremski kept moving in a tight crouch. The underbrush had been trampled so he was able to advance easily from tree to tree. Thick smoke filtered through the trees and obscured his vision, and he nearly walked into the compound’s southern perimeter before he recognized where he was. He jumped back, took a knee next to a pockmarked tree stump, and waited for the smoke to clear so he could get his bearings.
* * *
Trenas stared at the display as her drone circled the GRC camp, willing Beck to reveal his position. She tried to use both IR and visual sensors, but the heat reflected by the GRC buildings whited out the IR display. Using both sensors also consumed more power which meant a shorter mission time. She’d already had to boost power levels on the bird to keep it aloft after Beck damaged it with his rifle, so there was no point wasting energy on sensors that couldn’t function properly.
She piloted the drone in wide circles to give her visibility around the edges of areas like the mess tent, and it was during one of these circles that she spotted an exposed leg protruding from behind some crates.
“Hey, Strickland, take a look at this.”
Trenas executed a figure eight maneuver to maintain her position relative to the crates and focused her camera on them as the aircraft finished the maneuver.
“There.”
The leg was clearly visible to both operators.
“That looks good to me,” said Strickland. “You want me to assume overwatch?”
While Trenas had orbited and bombed the GRC compound, Strickland had kept her craft in a high orbit to the west. When she complained that Trenas was having all the fun, the staff sergeant pointed to her chevron.
“Rank has its privileges.”
Both women laughed at that. They were both staff sergeants, but Trenas was in charge because she was a few months senior to Strickland. Rank hadn’t really mattered in Warrant Officer Pell’s mech units anyway; all hands pitched in as required. DINLI.
Trenas put a target cursor on the leg and designated a weapon. She had two bombs left and she hoped this would be the last one she needed.
“Go in low,” suggested Strickland. “Don’t give him the chance to run out from underneath it this time.”
Trenas nodded and entered an attack altitude of one hundred meters. “I’m going to fly this thing right up his ass.”
Once the drone calculated the proper ordnance release course and position, she enabled the autopilot. The craft circled and dove for the bombing run. A timer at the bottom of the display counted down the seconds until weapon launch. When it reached zero, WEAPON AWAY flashed on the screen and the timer restarted with the estimated time to impact.
“Let’s see him get out of there in seven seconds.”
* * *
Fortis winced when Weinberg slipped the inflatable walking boot over his bandaged leg. The shot Doc had given him dulled the throbbing pain, but any sudden motion sent a lance of pain up his leg and straight to his brain. The corpsman inflated the boot with practiced motions and sat back to survey his work.
“That’s the best I can do, LT. I’m advising you to stay off it.”
Fortis stood on his left leg and rested his right on the deck. The throbbing pain returned as agonizing hammer blows as the blood flowed back into his foot. He bit back a cry of pain and slumped back down in the seat.
Then they
heard the rumble of grenades detonating outside.
They’re coming.
“I’m going to need another shot, Doc. Quick.”
* * * * *
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Beck heard the drone engine as the vehicle approached his hiding spot. It was coming in very low, and he knew exactly what that meant.
Run!
He charged out from between the crates just in time to see the drone flash by overhead. He threw himself flat on the ground. There was a loud BOOM, and splinters from the crates he’d been hiding behind rained down around him. Shrapnel tore into the flimsy temporary headquarters buildings and one of them collapsed.
Beck felt a sharp pain in his left arm and saw a bloody hole where a bomb fragment had torn through his flesh. The wound was in the fleshy part of his forearm and it bled freely when he tested the use of his hand. He rolled onto his back and searched the skies for the drone.
With his rifle next to him and his right hand clamped over the bloody gash on his left arm, Beck waited.
* * *
Fortis staggered out of the makeshift medical bay toward the command mech hatch.
“Hey, LT, I think I got him!” announced Trenas.
“That’s great,” spat Fortis through teeth gritted against the pain. “The test tubes are attacking.”
He opened the hatch and almost collapsed when he put his full weight on his damaged leg. Using his rifle as a crutch, he staggered to the nearest fighting hole.
A thick layer of smoke obscured the battlefield, and most of the incoming test tube fire was passing by harmlessly overhead. Space Marine sharpshooters returned fire with single aimed shots at shadows visible through the smoke, but otherwise held their fire.
“What’s the status?” he asked the two Space Marines occupying the hole.
“We’re pretty much fucked, sir,” replied one. “We’ve been killing those fuckers for two hours and there’s still about a million of them.”
Fortis laughed. “They only started with a thousand, so I think we’re doing okay.” He looked around at other nearby positions. “How many of us are left?”
The three men ducked as a burst of automatic fire tore a furrow through the top of the sandbags surrounding their position.
“There are three holes to our left and four to our right,” he replied. “Last I heard, there were twenty-eight of us left, plus the mech crews who bailed out of their machines when they ran out of ammo. So, maybe forty, all together.”
Fortis struggled to keep the dismay from his face.
Forty?
“The good news is the smoke confuses the hell out of the test tubes. The bad news is the smoke is clearing away.”
Fortis looked over the sandbags. The smoke had thinned considerably since he’d stumbled out of the command mech. He could see several ranks of test tubes massed on the far side of the compound. He steadied his rifle on the sandbag wall and looked at the other two Marines.
“Why aren’t you shooting?”
“I’m out of ammo and he’s down to his last mag, sir.”
“Get more!”
The Space Marine shook his head. “The ammo bunkers on this side of the compound were stripped to support the other side when the test tubes first showed up. As soon as we got over here, every hole sent men out to police up any spare ammo. That’s when a lot of guys got killed. Test tube snipers, we reckon.”
Fortis flashed back to Gunny Hawkins, whose body was still on top of the command mech. He shook his head to clear the memory, then patted his bandolier.
“Here, take these,” he said, and handed over his remaining magazines. “I’ve been lugging this rifle around this whole time and haven’t fired it once.”
The two Space Marines look at each other and shrugged as they accepted the proffered ammunition.
“We’ll put this to good use, LT. Just you watch.”
They crouched shoulder to shoulder, steadied their rifles on the sandbag wall, and fired at the massed test tubes. Fortis’ hands shook from the pain of his ankle, and he saw his rounds dig into the dirt or whine harmlessly overhead. He sighed and ejected the magazine from his rifle.
“Here, you might as well have this one, too. I can’t shoot for shit.”
* * *
Corporal Ystremski crouched at the edge of the compound and watched the test tubes form up under cover of the smoke blanket the Space Marines had laid across the compound. The same smoke that broke up their assaults also gave them a chance to reorganize for another attack. Three mercenaries in black uniforms shouted and shoved the test tubes around until they were massed together, and then urged them forward.
The test tubes fired from the hip as they advanced, and many fell as the Space Marines returned fire. The front ranks faltered, but the mercenaries drove them forward.
Ystremski raised his rifle and set his sights on the mercenary furthest back in the formation. The round hit him in front of the ear and his head disappeared in a fine red mist while his body somersaulted sideways. The cacophony of the battle covered the sound of the shot, and none of the test tubes who saw the mercenary fall seemed curious about where the shot had come from.
He swept his rifle forward and found the next mercenary. He squeezed off another shot and the second mercenary stumbled and went down, clutching his throat as arterial blood sprayed through his fingers. The test tubes around him recoiled as the blood splattered their uniforms, and now there was some hesitation in their steps.
Ystremski shot three more mercenaries before the formation moved out of range, and each additional human death seemed to weaken the test tube advance. Without their human overseers to drive them forward through the noise and confusion of battle, the test tubes appeared disoriented and uncertain what to do.
He turned and paralleled them, searching for more mercenaries as he picked his way through the jungle along the southern perimeter until he finally caught up with the front of the test tube advance. Space Marine marksmanship had opened many holes in their ranks, but they still pressed forward. The corporal was surprised to hear very little return fire coming from the Space Marine positions.
* * *
Trenas and Strickland watched the display as Trenas piloted her drone around for a damage assessment. They saw one of the buildings had collapsed and a small fire had broken out in another, but there was no sign of Beck.
“There! Right there!”
Trenas looked where Strickland was pointing and was able to make out a body lying on the ground near where the bomb had fallen. Drifting smoke obscured their view, so Trenas looped around for another look.
“I’m going to drop to fifty meters and go as slow as I can to get the best image,” she told Strickland. She struggled to keep the damaged bird level as she cut power. The drone made an awkward swoop over the GRC compound.
When the drone was thirty meters away, the body sat up, grabbed the rifle lying next to it, and fired at the drone.
* * *
“I’m out.” One of Fortis’ companions ducked away from the sandbag wall. He yanked the magazine from his rifle, looked at it in disgust, and tucked it into his bandolier. “You sure you don’t have any more, LT?”
Fortis patted himself and shook his head. “I gave you the last of it.”
“I’m out, too,” The other Marine sharing the hole slid down next to them.
“What do we do now?”
Fortis chanced a quick look over the sandbags. The test tubes were thirty meters away, but their advance had slowed to a crawl. Many had stopped and others were moving forward but not firing. There was one knot of test tubes led by a black-clad mercenary pressing the attack. He looked to his left and right and saw most of the other Space Marines had stopped firing, too.
A sudden idea came to him.
He looked at his companions.
“You two have any smokes?”
Both Marines nodded.
Fortis shouted to the other holes. “Does anyone have smokes?”
A few replied, and one joker threw a smoke grenade into Fortis’ hole without pulling the pin. Fortis grabbed it and held it over his head.
“Space Marines! Fix bayonets!”
* * * * *
Chapter Forty
Beck watched through squinted eyes as the drone approached him at low altitude. His nerves screamed Run! but he forced himself to relax and wait. If the drone pilot intended to drop another bomb on him, he wouldn’t be able to get out of the way in time to avoid the explosion, and he needed to engage the drone at close range. When he couldn’t wait any longer, he sat up, aimed his rifle, and fired a long burst at the aircraft. The drone shuddered under the impact of the rounds, and it dove sharply before it pulled straight up, stalled, then nosed toward the ground.
Beck scrambled backward as the drone dove and crashed into the building next to him. He covered his head and braced for an explosion, but it never came. After several seconds, Beck rolled over and stood up.
The drone crash started a fire in one of the test tube barrack tents and the temporary shelter was soon fully engulfed. Beck turned and jogged for the headquarter building to retrieve the first aid kit.
* * *
Fortis watched Lily climb off the command mech and run in a crouch to his fighting position.
“Did I hear you right? Did you order fix bayonets?”
Fortis nodded. “Yeah. We’re out of ammo and we’ve got too many wounded to retreat any further.” He pointed to the inflatable boot on his leg. “Including me.”
Lily pulled his bayonet out of his scabbard and fastened it to his rifle.
“Give the order, sir. Let’s get this over with.”