The Ninth

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The Ninth Page 42

by Benjamin Schramm


  Dante stumbled forward a few steps from the force of Marie’s strike. Cain burst into laughter. Taken by surprise, Angela let out a single, high-pitched giggle. Cain’s eyes widened; his laughter doubled in volume. Angela stared at him angrily. The others held back the urge to laugh along. Tyra shook her head at the whole affair. She joined Brent and Ronald.

  “Is this really a good idea?” she whispered to the two. “They seem more like a comedy act than a group of well-trained troopers. Nothing more than rank amateurs compared to the rest of the division,” Tyra said with a sigh.

  “You two worry too much; things are going to be fine,” Brent said.

  “Us two? What’s Ronald worked up about?”

  “He just wants to make sure I know the chain of command. You second is incredibly loyal. Although, when he’s not worrying he actually comes up with some good ideas. He’s got us an exam room all to ourselves.”

  “What good will that do us?”

  “Brent has suggested that the two of us will feel better when we see the squad in action.”

  “I suppose anything is possible.”

  Tyra turned to address the squad to find it in complete chaos. Dante was on the ground with Marie helping him up. Liz was reprimanding Marie for being too forceful. Cain was laughing at the scene while patting Angela’s shoulder over and over. Angela was simmering. Cassandra was introducing herself to Owen. Hiroko was leaning with both hands on Owen’s shoulder like some kind of bird. Rhea and Humphrey were arguing while Sanderson tried to calm them down. Kindra was chuckling to herself as Sanderson’s efforts amounted to nothing. Erin stood off to one side shaking her head in shame. Doug was standing near Erin, completely uninterested in the rest of the squad.

  “All right. That’s enough playtime for one morning. Everyone front and center,” Tyra addressed her squad.

  Sanderson convinced his group to fall in. He quickly took his place, reorganizing the rest as they sloppily got into line. Dante gathered his group and assembled a second line behind Sanderson’s. Brent took his proper place. Shortly, the entire squad was assembled in two neat rows. Only one trooper wasn’t in formation. Doug remained standing in his original position.

  “Get a move on, Dougie,” Marie called out.

  Rhea broke into laughter.

  “I thought we were clear on the not using my first name issue,” Humphrey mumbled.

  “Not you. Dougie, wake up!” Marie called out louder.

  With a start, Doug realized he was being called. He quickly rushed to take his position in the formation. As the squad quieted down, Tyra surveyed them.

  “I suppose I could do worse.” Tyra spoke in a normal tone of voice. “Ronald has got us an exam room. We’ll now see exactly how well you all work together. Brent seems proud of you all, so I’m going to be optimistic.”

  Tyra headed toward the corridors, Ronald following closely behind. The squad tried to stay in formation as they followed. While they didn’t have the neat appearance of the other troopers in the single digit grades, Brent was content with the new squad. When they got to the examination room, they found it vacant. The interior was a massive empty white cube covered in a large, blue grid work.

  “Looks like someone forgot to select a location.” Cain chuckled as he felt the smooth walls. “Been a while since I’ve seen an unprepared exam room.”

  “I said I had procured an exam room. I never said I set it up,” Ronald said apologetically.

  “This could actually be to our favor. Brent, why don’t you pick the location for our first workout?” Tyra asked, as she gestured for the squad to leave the room.

  As they were leaving, Brent grabbed Ronald’s shoulder.

  “How exactly do I do that?” he whispered.

  “It’s similar to the historical reenactment center. Just select the location you want on your pad. It’ll walk you through the rest. Maintenance might complain if you pick something too involved, but they’ll get everything in order for you. The perks of our high grade.”

  As Ronald exited the white room, the doorways sealed behind him. The squad was waiting nervously in the anteroom.

  “Where do you think he’ll pick?” Marie nudged Dante.

  “Forget where.” Doug eyed the doorway anxiously. “My question is what are we going to be doing?”

  “Are we late?” a gentle voice called out to them from the corridor.

  “Miss Williams I presume,” Ronald said flatly.

  “Penny Williams reporting for reassignment,” she said formally as she saluted Tyra. “I’m so glad you chose me.”

  “You’re giving credit to the wrong person,” Tyra said with a happy smile at the formal salute. It had been a very long time since she had been shown such respect in her own division. “Brent’s the one that picked you.”

  Penny stared at Tyra for a few moments in complete silence. As she digested the information, a look of supreme rapture filled her.

  “I remember you,” Cassandra said as she took the girls hand and shook. “Thanks for waking me up.”

  “The Weaver . . . Brent couldn’t bear to wake you. He’s a lot kinder than I’ve heard.”

  Angela scoffed.

  “What exactly have you heard?” Cain asked, pressing solely to annoy Angela.

  “He’s a merciless commander,” Penny said. “Half the SW sneaks out to see his matches in the war room. I don’t think he’s lost a single battle.”

  “Not one,” a hushed male voice said.

  Owen jumped in surprise and spun to find a man in the SW uniform leaning against the wall behind him. The rest of the group stared at him blankly, not one having noticed his entry.

  “Frank!” Penny half shouted. “Stop making me look bad!”

  “We’re trained in stealth, not social banter,” he said indifferently.

  “Frank A. Springate?” Ronald asked.

  The man only nodded. It was a graceful motion that hinted at supreme muscle control.

  “Looks like the gang is almost all here,” Dante said as he counted their number.

  “Here,” Mahoney said from the doorway.

  Tyra groaned.

  “Just in time!” Cain beamed. “Wouldn’t want the man that gave us the trial to show up late.”

  The trooper glanced at Cain but said nothing. He walked up to Tyra, nodded informally and took a seat.

  “Too embarrassed to speak up?” Cain taunted.

  “Nope,” Mahoney replied.

  Cain glanced at the man with a raised eyebrow.

  “Don’t bother,” Tyra said. “Mahoney loves munitions, not to talk. If you ever hear him utter more than a single word, it’s probably not Mahoney.”

  Frank smiled to himself.

  “You would be happy with that, Mr. Springate,” Penny said in a nagging voice.

  “So we’re getting a ammo expert from the SF, and two elite troopers from the SW,” Humphrey mumbled. “I think our chances just got better. We might do well, even with you where, Rhea.”

  “Does it matter?” Angela snapped. “There is no way this squad could perform as well as the others in a division from the sixth grade. You all lack their training and skill.” Angela folded her arms, an annoyed look on her face.

  “Isn’t that cute,” Cain said mockingly. “Our own little ray of sunshine!”

  Angela turned on Cain, smoldering anger clearly visible on her face. As she was about to verbally berate him, the doorway to the exam room hissed open. Loud klaxon alarms were blaring. Quickly, the squad filed back into the room. It was now the interior of a drop ship. Brent was already securing his chair’s restraints. While the rest of the squad eyed Brent quizzically, Dante, Hiroko, and Owen made a mad dash for their chairs, and in a flash they were properly secured.

  The rest of the squad took their positions as they stared in amazement at the three already bracing in their chairs. Suddenly the drop ship lurched to the side. Cain, Angela, and Ronald were caught off balance and were flung toward the ceiling. The others strained to h
old onto their chairs, as their restraints were only half secured. Cain and Ronald hit the floor first as Angela had grabbed hold of a support strut. Ronald scrambled to a chair and quickly secured himself. Cain shifted around on the floor until Angela fell from the ceiling. He let out a slight moan of pain as he caught her.

  “Someone’s heavier than she looks,” Cain shouted, as he thrust Angela toward a free chair.

  Cain had barely gotten to his seat when the drop ship started a barrel roll. Gravity spun along the walls, disorienting the troopers.

  “Please tell me we aren’t headed to another heavy gravity sand trap,” Owen shouted.

  Suddenly, the gravity crashed to the floor of the ship; its force was intense.

  “Isn’t this a little extreme?” Tyra asked as she was pressed into her seat.

  The force of the gravity shifted toward the aft of the drop ship. The troopers braced as the nose of the drop ship raised. The loud scraping of metal rang out in the interior of the ship. With an abrupt jolt, the ship came to a complete stop. The hatches flung open, and a dull light filled the interior. There were pulses of brighter light giving a slight strobe effect. Brent was already out of his restraints charging for the nearest open hatch. The rest of the squad quickly followed suit. They were in a large deep canyon. Flashes of light streaked across the sky. Large explosions of flames erupted randomly above them along the tops of the walls of the canyon.

  “Where have we landed?” Tyra shouted over the weapons fire.

  “Welcome to Listrad!” Brent shouted back. “We are at hour thirteen of operation ‘deep strike.’” He already had his rifle out and was scanning the terrain.

  Tyra shot a questioning glance at Ronald as the squad brought out their weapons.

  “Operation deep strike was one of the most massive, and final, offensives during the second period of the Great War.” Ronald answered as he opened fire on something in the shadows at the far end of the canyon. “Its goal was to push back the Great Divide. It didn’t go well.”

  “Didn’t go well? Why do I get the feeling he means we are about to be massacred?” Cain asked.

  “Forget that. What is he firing on?” Marie asked, trembling.

  Liz and Penny started opening fire along with Sanderson. Liz was sweating in sheets.

  “Be glad you’re not a sniper,” Penny said after a well placed shot. “You don’t want a close look at these things . . . they just won’t go down!” Penny shouted with frustration.

  “Let’s get a defensive position! I don’t like the looks of this!” Tyra shouted.

  Cassandra had her shovel out and was digging into the hard soil, sending large lumps of dirt and rocks flying. Humphrey and Dante pulled out their shovels and helped out. Brent jumped over the mound they were creating and grabbed Angela, pulling her into the makeshift trench.

  “I’m going to ask you to do something for me,” Brent said as the weapon fire of the snipers flew above the trench.

  “What do you expect me to do? I’ve tried, but I can’t sense anything from our opponents,” she said with a trace of annoyance.

  “Don’t bother. There aren’t any emotions to sense from them. I want you to reinforce the squad.”

  “Reinforce? What are you talking about?”

  “I know Weaver training is mostly about attacking the weaknesses in your enemy, but I’ve got something else in mind. I want you to weaken everyone’s fear. Reinforce their bravery.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Right now they haven’t seen the enemy yet. When they do, the squad might rout. I want you to keep that from happening.”

  “I’ve never done anything like that before!”

  “Time to learn then. I’m leaving this up to you.”

  Brent jumped out of the trench and joined Tyra.

  “Your orders?” Brent asked while keeping his weapon trained on the far end of the canyon.

  “Given our surroundings, I’m guessing a lot of nasty is going to come down on us from that end of the canyon. A trial by fire?”

  “The best weapons are forged by the heat of battle.” Brent shrugged. “You know what they say. Iron sharpens iron.”

  “All right. Get the troopers assembled in two rows, the best shots in the rear. You said Humphrey’s a pro with artillery; get him back in the drop ship with Mahoney. Lets see if they can rig up something with a larger punch.”

  Brent saluted and dashed off toward Marie. He tapped forcefully on her shoulder and gestured toward the drop ship. She started running toward it. He kept behind the snipers as they continued to blast away at the darkness. Humphrey was mumbling too quietly for Brent to make out as he reached him.

  “Humphrey, Mahoney back in the drop ship; Tyra’s orders. The rest of you, two lines. Best shots in the back. Stay low. Keep behind the mound!” Brent pulled Humphrey with him.

  Humphrey mumbled to himself as they ran back into the drop ship.

  “What are we doing in here?” Marie asked tensely.

  Mahoney watched the sniper fire with interest as he half listened.

  “Tyra wants something stronger than our rifles,” Brent said. “I know your skill at field repair, Marie. Help Humphrey salvage anything he can from the ship.”

  Mahoney smirked and pulled out some heavy ordinance from his pants pockets.

  “What about those things out there?” Marie asked in a trembling voice.

  “That’s command’s job,” Humphrey mumbled. “They worries about them; we give Tyra some options. Let’s get to work.”

  Marie nodded reluctantly. Brent jumped out of the drop ship and took a position in the second row of troopers. The enemy was starting to draw closer. Orbs of light were starting to appear from deep within the shadows. The snipers had kept them at bay for longer than he expected; they were even better than Brent had hoped.

  “Here they come!” Hiroko shouted.

  “Not them again!” Owen started firing on the first one to leave the shadows.

  A Slasher emerged from the shadows. While it was more or less the same familiar tripod from the fifth exam, these looked cheaply constructed. Brent pondered if their appearance was due to them being earlier models from the farer reaches of history or if the crude imitations were the best the academy could produce. A dark red liquid covered the Slasher’s blades, making them glint in the moonlight as the tripod charged the troopers. It shrugged off Owen’s weapon fire as it continued to advance. The troopers started to fire wildly at the advancing hordes.

  “Not like that!” Dante shouted. “Everyone focus on the same one. These beasts take a lot to bring down.”

  Brent spied Angela out of the corner of his eye. She was gripping her ears with a look of incredible focus scrawled over her face. Not one trooper in the division panicked. One by one, the troopers took down the advancing Shards. The tripods didn’t even pause as their blades sliced through the bodies of their fallen companions. The squad wasn’t going to be able to hold them off for long. The mound of fallen Slashers inched closer by the minute.

  “Am I the only one noticing that we’re not winning here?” Cain asked between weapon bursts.

  “The entire operation was a failure.” Ronald spoke as he took aim. “We pushed, but the great enemy pushed back harder. The entire attacking force was wiped out.”

  A large pulse of energy launched out of Ronald’s sniper rifle, colliding against the three-pronged limb of a Slasher. The damaged Slasher slid along the ground, tripping four others.

  “So, if we are doomed from the start, why are we even here?” Cain clenched his fist in victory, as the four tripped Slashers didn’t stand up.

  “The best troopers humanity had to offer managed to hold this position for twenty-three minutes before they were overrun,” Hiroko shouted as another Slasher fell. “The elite of the elite held back the endless hordes while the field hospital at the other end of this canyon was evacuated. Twenty women and men gave their lives to save over a thousand injured and wounded. If we can hold it
for that long we’d be the equals to the best of the best. Far better than any grade in the academy could ever dream.”

  “Sounds great. How long have we been at it?” Owen asked.

  “Six and a half minutes,” Brent shouted.

  “We’re screwed,” Kindra said.

  Cain pulled out his pad and started tapping away at it.

  “That’s sixteen more minutes, genius.” Cassandra reprimanded Cain. “Do you really need your pad to do such basic math?”

  Cain stuck out his tongue as he put his pad back. Despite their best efforts, the Shards were getting closer and closer. They wouldn’t be able to hold out for half the time they needed.

  “Focus your fire on their middle leg! The non-bladed one!” Tyra shouted out her order.

  Without hesitation the troopers shifted from the torso of the tripod to its rear leg. In half the time they had cut through it. The tripod flailed as it fell to the ground. Its mighty blades sliced through nearby Slashers as they tried to continue their charge over the damaged tripod. The squad quickly started attacking another tripod, forcing it down to the ground, thrashing like the first.

  “Now we’ve making some progress,” Erin shouted excitedly.

  The squad had reduced the amount of time it took them to bring down the Slashers, but it wasn’t enough. They slowed the advance of the Shards, but they were still growing slowly closer.

  “Sixteen minutes! Seven more to go!” Tyra shouted.

  The Shards were almost upon them. The front edge of the horde started lunging toward the defensive line. One leaped over a collapsing tripod, avoiding its deadly thrashing. It landed almost on top of Cassandra. It raised its glinting blade, blood draining down its length. Brent jumped over the troopers and struck at the pulsing orb in the center of the tripod’s torso with the butt of his rifle. He struck with so much force the rifle shattered. The tripod fell backwards, impaled by a second. A second tripod lunged at Brent. He raised the remains of his rifle as a pathetic shield. As the Slasher swung down on him, a large object collided with the tripod, sending it flying back into the mass of Slashers. As Brent blinked, he realized the projectile had been one of the chairs from the drop ship. Turning, he found Humphrey whooping in victory behind a crude cannon, Marie already loading another chair into it.

 

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