Markov's Prize

by Mark Barber

  “It takes about two or three hours to select a new strike leader,” Tahl began, “if you do it properly. Ideally you get a few people together and discuss the merits of the various candidates which have been presented by C3, then you make an informed decision. On the day I selected you for promotion, we were advancing across the Senai Plains on Valhr. I had to selected a new strike leader, submit a progress report for formation command, calculate our logistical requirements, prepare an intelligence brief, and write several letters of condolence to the next of kin of some of our casualties. Each of those jobs takes a couple of hours. I had twenty minutes before I was leading a reconnaissance patrol to scout enemy forward positions. I prioritized the letters of condolence and gave them the majority of the time I had. When it came to picking a new strike leader, I just looked at the list of names, picked you immediately without a second more thought, and moved on to my next job.

  “Several days later, Senior Strike Leader Van Noor queried my decision. I had completely forgotten about it. It was only then that it struck me, and I told him the truth. ‘I think I promoted her because I’m attracted to her.’ It was too late by then, you had been sent away on the training course. He said I should tell you the truth, but I kept putting it off. Because I was too scared to confront you. It wasn’t an intentional, premeditated, and malicious act on my part, it was a rushed, spur of the moment decision, made on the spot when I was trying to manage several very important tasks. I know that’s no excuse, but it’s the whole truth. That’s the whole story. I’m really sorry, you deserve better.”

  Rhona bit her bottom lip pensively before replying.

  “It’s not as bad as it was in my head,” she admitted. “I guess… well, I guess you had a lot going on, and we all make mistakes. Look, I’m over it. It’s cool. I’m just… sorry I don’t feel the same way. You’re a great looking guy, I mean, really good looking, but you’re just not my type. You’re… a nice guy and that’s all well and good for women who are one hundred and fifty and ready to settle down, but I’m twenty-five, I’ve got a century of little to no responsibility ahead of me and, well, given that I could get my head blown off any day and how much stuff I’ve got going on in my life right now, I’m not into nice guys. I’m not looking for a relationship at all. If anything, I’d probably end up shacking up with some bastard who’d treat me like crap for a few weeks before we both moved on anyway.”

  Tahl chuckled slightly at the irony of her words, describing exactly the man he was when he was twenty-five.

  “Is there anything else you want to know?” He asked.

  “No, I think that’s it,” Rhona took a step back. “Let’s just forget the whole thing. I’m not gonna bring it up again, it’s fine. I’ll just do my job the best I can. I’m cool with it all, if you are.”

  “Yeah,” Tahl nodded, “yeah, I’m cool. Thanks for your understanding, and I’m sorry I put you through this. But you’re right, with what you said last time we spoke. Beyond what is absolutely necessary for us to operate together within a military context, I think it best we don’t communicate with each other at all. You were very wise to say that, and I couldn’t agree more.”

  Rhona’s smile faded. She stood up a little straighter and nodded.

  “Yes, sir,” she said, “permission to carry on?”

  “Granted, Strike Leader,” Tahl replied, returning her salute before walking quickly toward Formation HQ.

  ***

  Nienne Desert

  One hundred and ten kiloyan northwest of Firebase Delta

  Markov’s Prize

  Staring at every detail of the holographic image for what what seemed like the one thousandth time, Van Noor brought his daughter’s picture across his array in an attempt to combat the effects of the dense sandstorm. That simple piece of data had given him a link to his children, a link which gave him real and perceptible strength. His battlesuit readout told him that he was burning less medication than before, even though it had only been a day.

  A day of moving northwest to meet the advancing Ghar, digging in to hold a line which extended off to the left where Alpha Company stood ready, and the right where Cian Company held the flank. Beta Company was dead center, and Tahl had positioned his command squad just behind the middle of that defensive line.

  “Bry? You good to go?” Tahl’s voice echoed through his head via the command squad shard.

  “Yeah, on my way.”

  Van Noor carefully folded up the piece of paper and secured it inside a pouch on his utility belt. The sandstorm was already beginning to thin and dissipate as he walked back to the remainder of the company. The seven C3T7 transporters which had brought them out were parked in a neat row, flanked by two very similar looking, but significantly upgunned, C3M4 combat drones. The company’s fifty remaining strike troopers had separated into their seven strike squads and three x-launcher teams and waited for instructions. In and around them were the smaller drones – the vital, disc shaped C3D1 drones with their rapid firing plasma light support weapons, as well as the smaller spotter, medical, and shield drones.

  Mandarin Owenne had decided to accompany Beta Company to set up the defenses and stood alone at the edge of the assembly, staring off to the northeast with his hands clasped behind his back and his IMTel stave tucked neatly under one arm. Tahl was walking over to him as Van Noor arrived.

  “We can easily converse over the shard, chaps,” Owenne said as the dust continued to clear and turquoise skies began to seep through the yellow. “It’s what it was invented for.”

  “It’s not a habit I wish to…”

  Owenne held up a hand to stop Tahl’s reply.

  “I know, Ryen, I know, better to brief the men and women face to face. I accept your thoughts, I just don’t understand them.”

  “If you’re going to order young men and women to their deaths, you should at least have the common courtesy to look them dead in the eyes when you do so,” Tahl said, removing his helmet and blinking in the fierce sunlight as the last sands of the dust storm carried on their way to the south.

  “You’ve worked with panhumans long enough, Owenne,” Van Noor pitched in, “you should understand us a little by now. Besides, you were the one who ordered our withdrawal last week. That order saved a lot of lives. Don’t pretend there isn’t a heart in there somewhere.”

  “Don’t confuse tactical sense for sentimentality,” the NuHu corrected with a grim smile. “Just because I don’t want my assets dead doesn’t mean I mourn their passing. I’m keeping soldiers alive because I need them, not because I like them. Leadership is not a popularity competition, gentlemen.”

  “I disagree,” Tahl folded his arms, “leadership is the art of getting a body of men and women to do something you want them to do, but they don’t want to do. You either do that via respect or fear. Popularity and respect do have some crossover. A popular leader is not a bad leader.”

  “And you, Killer?” Owenne looked at Tahl. “Are you a popular leader?”

  “It’s not my…”

  “Yeah,” Van Noor interrupted, “yeah, he is. Now we’ve got a significant force of angry little bastards in armored killing machines stomping our way over here, so shall we brief the boys and girls and go get stuck in?”

  Owenne twisted at the torso, his hands still clasped at his back. He looked at the ground near Van Noor’s feet, narrowed his eyes, and smiled again.

  “You go and brief them, Ryen. You’re far better with… people. Oh, and be sure to let them know how much artillery we’ve got this time. That should cheer the poor dears up a bit.”

  Van Noor bit back another response but then thought again. Why bother? The NuHu’s control over the IMTel, nanospheres, shards, it was so acute that he could read thoughts. There was nothing to hide from the NuHu, which was one of the reasons why they were often feared by ordinary soldiers.

  “I know,” Owenne answered Van Noor’s thoughts, “but I very rarely actually get into people’s minds. It’s not out of some outda
ted sense of chivalry and respect for boundaries like Killer here has. It’s because you all bore the life out of me. Love, respect, hurt feelings, romance, art, politics, sex… blah, blah, blah. Now get the boys and girls in position. I want to inflict casualties on the bastards today.”

  Tahl tapped Van Noor on the shoulder and beckoned for him to follow.

  “He’s not that bad,” Tahl smiled as the two walked back to the troops. “I’m sure he acts up just to get a reaction. I’ve seen him drunk, he likes building models in his spare time. And astronomy. Come on, let’s double check all of our people are content with the plan.”

  “Squad Leaders,” Van Noor transmitted across the company command shard, “to me.”

  The six squad leaders immediately broke away from their squads and formed a semi-circle around Tahl and Van Noor. Tahl dropped to one knee and gestured for the other soldiers to do the same. Used to their strike captain’s preferences, the squad leaders all removed their helmets. Van Noor cast his eyes across the leaders. Vias, a man who had nailed that very thin line of combining being the company joker with a proficient soldier and respected leader. He would take the far left flank, backed up by the M4s. Yavn, experienced against the Isorians but clearly apprehensive in his first campaign against the Ghar. A good soldier with potential to excel, Van Noor had singled him out as needing support, as for the first time he appeared to be coming unstuck. Rall, his dark skin glistening with sweat, his angry eyes impatiently flicking off to the northeast where the enemy approached from. His squad would be dead center, where a man of his fearless nature would be best utilized. Rhona, her perfect hair stylishly arching down over the tatty bandana around her forehead, her dark eyes narrowed as if a seductive appearance was her top priority. Van Noor shook his head – she would never be a leader of fighting men and women. Heide – stoic, dependable, experienced. His squad had taken the most casualties and the two soldiers who had been sent across from Cian Company had both gone to him. Althern, the company’s most experienced trooper after Van Noor and Tahl, the perfect man for commanding that exposed position on the right flank where a winding ravine connected their defensive line to that of Cian Company.

  Tahl used a datapad to project a holographic representation of the surrounding terrain onto the ground in the middle of the assembled leaders.

  “Last time we go through this. We’ve got dead center of the line, in between Alpha and Cian Companies. Echo Company has got our back, and we’ve got four batteries of artillery behind them so this time, if we see battlesuits, we’ve got a good chance to knock them down. Squad Denne has the left flank and joins us up with Alpha Company. Teal are next down the line. Vias, Yavn, you two will be close enough to each other to provide fire support, and you’ve got our two M4s as well as an x-launcher. Looking at the terrain, I’d predict you’re the most likely to see a proper push from the Ghar; so if you do, hit them with everything you’ve got and we’ll close around them from both sides. Rall – your Squad Jai has dead center. You’ll be first on hand to support Denne and Teal if needed, but there’s also a chance they’ll hit you dead on, so take full advantage of the rocky terrain you’ve got to hand. Rhona, your Squad Wen is overlooking a steep ravine – I doubt the Ghar would tunnel themselves in, so you need to be ready to move fast – anywhere. You’re my first choice to relocate and plug other areas of the line, so keep your Duke close by. Heide – similar story – be ready to move fast but also support Althern’s Squad Xath on the right flank, as that’s where the open ground is – good for our guns but also good for their limited mobility. Any questions?”

  “Are we intending to slow them and make a fighting withdrawal, Boss?” Yavn asked.

  “No,” Tahl replied sternly, “we’ve got a pair of M4s on the left flank, artillery support behind us, and two units of D1 drones for rapid fire support. My intentions are to dig in and stop them right here. I’ll make the call if we need to fall back, but you go into this fight with the mental expectation that we’re going nowhere. The Ghar have had a good run so far. The moment they’re in range of our weapons, that’s going to end. Today. That’s all from me – get to your positions and report in when you’re set up and good to go.”

  ***

  Five hours had passed. The midafternoon suns were continuing their slow dip toward the horizon, the shadows cast along the ravines and rocks growing slightly longer with every few passing minutes. Sessetti looked across to where Clythe dragged an armored foot through the sand, scrapping away the top layer of yellow to reveal the courser blue beneath. As they watched, the sunrays burned the thinner grains of sand back to yellow within seconds, adding another layer of bicolored swirls along the ground.

  Up ahead of them, the ravine wound left and right with jagged pillars of orange rock jutting out of the sand at irregular intervals. Behind them was open desert; yan after yan of undulating sand mounds, skeletal bushes, and dry blades of grass. The squad’s C3T7 transport drone lay silently in the sand behind them, its plasma light support turret pointing ready at the ravine opening.

  Sessetti looked at the other members of the squad. Gant and Jemmel stared patiently at the ravine opening, their weapons ready. Rhona crouched behind the line of troopers, her carbine resting across one knee. Clythe idly dragged his foot through the sand to create shapes and swirls in yellow and blue. Qan drummed his fingers impatiently along the top of his carbine. Rae was looking directly at Sessetti as his eyes reached her – she offered a friendly wave from her position at the end of the line.

  “It’s on,” Rhona suddenly reported, “Cian company’s got Outcasts attempting to flank them, all the way off on our right.”

  Sessetti listened in for the sound of gunfire but heard only the wind rustling dry vegetation and the scratchy call of some local lizard which miraculously managed to survive the heat. Then, a few seconds later, the rumble of artillery sounded from a battery many yan behind them.

  “That’ll show the bastards,” Qan said.

  Before he had even finished, the sound of plasma fire issued from somewhere off to the left, over on the other side of a broad plateau of sand.

  “Squad Teal’s engaged,” Rhona said, “some sort of Ghar crawler.”

  Again the sound of artillery fire echoed from afar, and within moments, the whistling of shells cut through the hot air and impacted the ground somewhere off to the left, vibrating the very earth beneath their feet.

  “Y’all get ready,” Rhona warned, “we’re either gonna get attacked real soon, or we’re gonna be helping somebody else who is.”

  ***

  “Squad Denne, Command,” Tahl transmitted to Vias, “there’s a large concentration of Ghar closing in from marker delta – I’m relocating your M4s.”

  “Copied,” Vias replied.

  Tahl turned to face Van Noor, careful to remain hidden beneath the smooth lip of rock which jutted out of the sand which surrounded them.

  “Bry, lay down some markers for the M4s – get them across to support Alpha Company as quick as you can. Looks like they’re taking the worst of it so far.”

  “Got it,” Van Noor replied, connecting with the shard utilized by the pair of C3M4 combat drones, and laying a safe path for them to transit along to support their neighboring company of strike troopers to the left.

  “Squad Xath, Command,” Tahl called. “Hostiles inbound from the northeast, get your people in cover, rain’s coming down.”

  “Got it, Command,” Althern’s deep voice replied.

  “Cian Battery, Beta Command,” Tahl called one of the artillery batteries behind the frontline, “fire for effect at marker violet, corrective action will be issued by my senior strike leader.”

  “Cian Battery copied, marker received, firing in three.”

  Van Noor patched in to the overhead view of the battlefield which Tahl was using to direct his forces. Alpha Company to the left had a major push against them, centered around a tall, five legged walker with a crew of three Ghar. At least twenty battlesuits were swarming
forward around the Command Crawler, their weapons sending streams of plasma into the defensive positions of Alpha Company. In return, plasma fire spewed forth from the strike troopers’ positions, accompanied by the carnage wreaked by the artillery which erupted in and around the advancing fighting machines. Van Noor’s two M4 drones were quick to arrive on the scene, their opening salvo of plasma fire cutting down a Ghar battlesuit and sending the three legged machine sprawling into the dirt.

  “Boss! Up ahead!” Kachi warned, firing his carbine from where he lay behind the natural cover of the rocks.

  Van Noor looked in the direction of fire and saw five crude, mechanical flying machines of a similar size to a Concord spotter drone hovering at head height some ten yan away. The machines all had archaic looking surveillance devices hastily bolted on to a set of metal wings. Kachi’s first shot impacted with one of the machines, blowing a neat hole through the center of its body and sending it buzzing down to impact with the ground. The other machines immediately buzzed back the way they had come from.

  “Flitters,” Van Noor identified the Ghar machines. “They know we’re here now.”

  “They must have crept right past Squad Jai,” Kachi said.

  “Jai, Command,” Tahl called. “Sitrep?”

  “Six battlesuits! Taking heavy fire!” Rall replied. “I’ve got two casualties and we’re pinned in place!”

  “Teal, from Command,” Tahl said calmly, “I’m sending you a marker to move to, to provide covering fire for Squad Jai. Artillery inbound in ten seconds. Squad Jai, wait for my orders to fall back to my position, how copied?”

  “Jai copies!” Rall shouted. “Got one! We’ve dropped one of the bastards!”