Lieutenant (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 3)

by Jonathan P. Brazee

  The Navy had insisted that the 3/6 AO was clear, but they hadn’t detected the capys in Peterbund, either. Now Ryck was forced to move into a column. If they got hit, it wouldn’t be pretty.

  Ryck slid in behind the First Squad’s Second Fire Team. Cpl Ibrahim, the Third Fire Team leader, led the point team out in front of the column. The four Marines were trotting ahead, eyes and sensors scanning the fields for any threat. One hundred meters behind them, Second Fire Team led the rest of the platoon.

  The terrain consisted of slightly rolling wheat fields, broken up by low hedgerows of a native vegetation, genmodded to coexist with the Terran crops. It was pleasantly warm, and their skins’ cooling webs had no problem keeping the Marines comfortable as they trotted along. Even with the bones inserted, they moved freely. Take away their weapons, and they could be back on Zephyr-Hadreson running an afternoon PT on a nice spring day.

  Their stress levels, though, were not the same as if back home. The enemy was out there somewhere, an enemy with unknown capabilities. Ryck felt exposed, moving through the fields. He kept flicking his viewfinder to max magnification, trying to spot any movement.

  Up ahead of the main body, the point team held up. They had reached the mine head. This wasn’t a huge working mine as on Atacama, where Ryck had first tasted combat. The opening to the mine was simply a hole going into the low hill. The door to the mine was simply two pieces of corrugated metal, tied shut with wire. A dump truck and a pickup hover had been set down in front of the doors as if to provide more of an obstacle.

  “Check them for keys,” Ryck told the Marines in First Squad as he came up.

  LCpl’s Thomas and Sutarno checked out each cab but ended up empty-handed.

  That would have been too easy, Ryck thought.

  With a PICS, he could have simply shoved the vehicles aside. Even breaking out their muscles—the strength-augmenting framework each Marine could attach to their skins— the dump truck would be a tough move.

  Ryck walked over to the far side of the two vehicles. There was enough room between them and the door for the Marines to squeeze by.

  “What do we got?” Joshua asked as he came up.

  “We can get by these, but single file,” Ryck told him. “Have Ariana form a perimeter around the door. No, belay that. Make it Watson. I want you inside with me, and Doc. I’d rather have Watson handle the security. And I want his sensors on max gain. Give him one of your dragonflies, and get it up in the air.”

  “Roger that,” Joshua said before striding off to brief the two squads.

  Ryck turned back to Sergeant Timothy and said, “I don’t think the capys are here, but that doesn’t mean squat. I want that door blown, then get your squad in as fast as you can. I’ll be on your ass, but make contact with any civilians. We’ve got to get them and get out of here ASAP.”

  Ryck looked back, and Sgt Watson was getting his Marines deployed around the mine opening. Within moments, First Squad was in a file between the truck and the doors. LCpl Pannata was watching his squad leader.

  Ryck didn’t want to wait until Second Squad was fully deployed, so he gave Timothy the go-ahead. The squad leader nodded at his lance corporal, who raised his M76 and aimed it at the twisted wire that was acting as a door lock. The bunker buster was probably overkill, but it would ensure a quick entry.

  With one blast, the door blew open, one piece of corrugated metal blown completely off its hinges, the other one askew. Pannata stepped aside as Pvt Hueber, M99 at the ready, started to dash inside. A single shot rang out from the mine, and Hueber jumped back out.

  “Hold your fire, hold your fire! We are Federation Marines!” Pannata called out.

  There was a pause as the Marines stopped in their tracks. Ryck wanted to push ahead to the door, but there was no room unless he climbed on top of the truck and clambered over.

  Finally, a voice called out from inside the salt mine, “Prove it!”

  What the . . . Ryck wondered.

  The Marines in front of Ryck started looking around in confusion.

  “What do we do, L/T[25]?” Sgt Timothy asked on the platoon command circuit. “Prove it?”

  Ryck changed his display menu, pulled up LCpl Pannata, then took over the Marine’s comms, switching his speakers to external.

  “This is Second Lieutenant Ryck Lysander, United Federation Marine Corps. We have been sent to evacuate you. Your planet is under attack, and it is not safe here. Do you understand?”

  There was another pause, then “How do we know you ain’t one of them,” the voice called out.

  Mother grubbing shit! We don’t have time for this!

  Ryck made up his mind. He might get his ass in a sling for this, but he couldn’t sit here arguing with the man.

  “Sgt Timothy, get your men in there and rush the guy. Don’t hurt him, at least too seriously, but secure his weapon.”

  Ryck hoped there wasn’t anyone else armed, but Timothy’s Marines would react to whatever they encountered. Sgt Timothy took a few seconds to brief his men, then on his command, Cpl Goddard’s team rushed inside with the other Marines on their tail. One more shot rang out, then someone shouted.

  Ryck was pushing up Sutarno’s ass, and by the time he got into the mine, Goddard’s team had the man down on his face.

  “You sumbitch,” Pannata was yelling. “You fucking shot me!”

  Pannata’s bios read fine, so if he’d been hit, his bones had protected him.

  “Don’t kill me!” the man was crying out, his face pushed into the mixture of salt and dirt that covered the entrance floor.

  “No one’s going to kill you, you dumbshit,” Sgt Timothy told him. “Didn’t we say we were Marines? You think we’re the friggin’ capys?”

  “I didn’t know,” he whined. “All we know here is something big’s going down. I don’t know nothing about no capys. None of them here. ’Sides, they can’t hurt no one.”

  “Let him up. Pvt Hueber, you take that rifle, though,” Ryck said as he came up, pointing to the man’s old Winchester that was lying in the dirt. “No use tempting anyone.

  “What’s your name, sir,” he asked the man who was now sitting up, spitting out dirt and salt.

  “Morrison Tahoe, sir.”

  “Where are the rest of you? We need to get moving,” Ryck told him.

  The man hesitated, and Ryck, exasperated, had to keep from yelling as he said, “Look, we’ve no time for this shit. If you don’t get your people out here, there all going to die. Do you understand that? We’re going to leave you here and you’re all going to die!”

  Ryck wouldn’t leave them, but he was not above telling a lie to get them going. It seemed to work and the man’s will broke right then. Whatever suspicions he had evaporated.

  “Back in the chamber, sir. We’ve got 35 more of us, mostly women and children. We didn’t know what was going on, only that it was bad. So me and Tyrone, Tyrone Sukito, that is, he’s the—”

  “Sorry, sir, you can fill me in on the details later. Just get us to your people now,” Ryck interrupted.

  “Oh yeah, sure. This way,” the man said, leading them down the only passage, a low, meter-and-a-half wide cut in the salt. The air in the passage was dry as a bone. The hairs in Ryck’s nose clumped together as the moisture was sucked away. A naked wire looped along the ceiling, LED’s hanging every three or four meters. Within 30 or 40 meters, the passage opened up into a chamber. The Marines pushed by a hover cart, something obviously used to transport salt to the entrance.

  The chamber was well lit and the white salt walls reflected a somewhat eerie glow. Twenty or so barrels were stacked up against one wall. An old beat-up metal desk was along the far side of the chamber, and several benches had been carved right out of the walls. Sitting on the benches and cross-legged on the deck were the civilians.

  “Give me a head count, Joshua,” Ryck passed as his platoon sergeant entered the chamber.

  He was pretty sure all of them would be there, but he wanted to
be certain of that. Several passages led away from the chamber, and it was possible someone had wandered away.

  “Who’s your commander?” a voice asked in back of him.

  Ryck turned to see a large, broad-shouldered middle-aged man asking Cpl Howell the question. Howell silently pointed to Ryck. The man caught Ryck’s eye, then strode over, with a younger man who just as big and carrying a cricket bat, one step behind.

  “Supervisor Sukito. I’m in charge here,” he said, a smile on his face and his hand out.

  Ryck took the hand and shook it. He was surprised the man had to ask who was in command. Ryck had his bars illuminated, and anyone who went to the movies or watched the holos should recognize Marine, Navy, or Legion ranks.

  “Second Lieutenant Ryck Lysander, sir. We’re here to evacuate your group.”

  “Yes, about that. Can you tell us what’s going on? We got the emergency beacon, then some garbled message about an attack before all communications were cut off. Did the French start up again, or maybe Soldiers of God?”

  “You didn’t get any information on what was happening?” Ryck asked.

  “Nada. We received the beacon, and company policy is to take refuge until we receive a recall. Whatever it was, it sounded bad, though, for the few moments we had a connection,” the man said, seemingly completely at ease.

  Ryck looked at him, then at his sidekick. He looked physically fit and moved like a man who could take care of himself. Yet he was back in the deeper chamber with someone who had an air of a bodyguard about him. Mr. Tahoe might be filling the billet of village idiot, but at least he was out there at the entrance to the mine, ready to defend the others, even if from friendly forces.

  “Supervisor Sukito, Peterbund has been attacked with the population essentially wiped out by capys. A Navy ship has been destroyed, and our mission is to rescue any surviving civilians before we abandon the planet,” Ryck said without preamble.

  The supervisor looked stunned.

  “Capys? Impossible. They’re imbecilic eating machines, nothing more,” he sputtered.

  “Not the capys you settlers have been killing. These are larger, soldier varieties. We don’t know anything about them, but we have a few images of them attacking your fellow settlers.”

  “We’ve got all 36 here,” Joshua said over the P2P.

  Ryck nodded, but didn’t reply. He was waiting for Sukito.

  “I really find that hard to believe. As far as leaving here, I think I need those orders from my superiors back at company headquarters,” he finally said.

  “I’m not sure you heard me. Peterbund has been emptied. Everyone back at your headquarters has been killed,” Ryck said as he got closer to losing his patience.

  “Someone must have survived. I’m going to convene our branch council. I’ll get back to you with my decision,” Sukito told Ryck, turning away.

  Ryck reached out and grabbed the man by the shoulder, spinning him back. The bodyguard, who had to be Sukito Junior, took a step forward, but wilted under Ryck’s glare and stopped.

  Ryck knew the man had to be in a state of shock, but there was no time for him to baby the pompous fool.

  “You are not going to convene anything. You are not going to wait for orders from your company. This planet is under interdiction, and as the senior Federation representative here, I am in complete control. What I say, goes. And what I say now is that you and your people have five minutes to be ready to move out. Do you understand me?” Ryck said, his tone leaving no room to doubt his resolve.

  Behind him, both Joshua and Howell stepped up to flank him, lending their physical support. The supervisor gaped like a fish out of water, looking from one Marine to the other.

  “Uh, well, of course. Let me get everyone ready. You have to realize this is quite a shock. Capys, you say? That’s hard to believe, but if you say it, well—”

  “I do say it, and I’d suggest you quit explaining and get your people together. We’ve got an extremely tight schedule, and none of us want to be left behind.”

  Supervisor Sukito started to say something else, but evidently thought better of it and turned to get his people together.

  “What a piece of brown,” Howell muttered.

  Ryck totally agreed.

  “Sgt Timothy, Sgt Ariana, come here,” Ryck passed on the command circuit.

  Both squad leaders ran up within seconds. Ryck pulled the two, along with Joshua, aside.

  “What state are the civilians in? See any problems?”

  “Doc Camp is checking them out,” Joshua told him. “I saw a couple of oldsters and at least half-a-dozen kids. It’ll be slow going if we walk.”

  “What about that truck out there? That could hold the kids and anyone else who had problems. Can we ask someone for the key?” Ryck asked.

  Joshua held out one hand. The key dangled from it.

  “Done and done.”

  “Damn, staff sergeant. That’s why you get the big bucks,” Ryck said with a laugh. “OK, then how about—”

  “Lieutenant!” Cpl Saul, Second Squads Second Fire Team leader shouted, running into the chamber. Another Marine followed him, breathing heavily.

  The new Marine had no helmet. His monocle display was pushed to the side. That was enough to identify him as a recon Marine.

  What’s he doing here? Ryck wondered.

  “Sir, you need to hear this,” Saul said excitedly.

  “Sir, Staff Sergeant Hills, Fourth Recon Battalion. We’re your eyes and ears for this AO. To make a long story short, the capys are on their way, and they’re close,” he gasped between breaths.

  “Here? What’s their ETA? How many of them?” Ryck asked.

  “Don’t rightly know sir. They didn’t show up on any of our sensors. If we hadn’t been in their path, we’d never have seen them.”

  “You saw them?” Ryck asked, confused. “With your eyes? But your sensors never picked them up?”

  “That’s right, sir. We saw them plain as day, but nothing registered. We tried to raise you, but all the comms were out, so I took off running to get here before them.”

  Recon had some mighty high-speed, low-drag electronics. If their sensors couldn’t detect the capys, then nothing Ryck had would, either.

  “How far did you run?” Ryck asked.

  “About 20 minutes. Maybe seven or eight klicks. From what I saw, they looked slow, so you’ve got another 15 minutes, 30 max. The rest of the team’s supposed to be flanking them, but without comms, we can’t find out where the capys are.”

  “Joshua, give the key to the truck to Abbas. He worked construction before enlisting, so he’s driving it. I want you to be in charge of getting these people out of here. Five minutes. Everyone out of this mine and moving. You two,” he said to the two squad leaders, “spread out your Marines. I want them where they can kick butt to keep the civilians moving.”

  Within moments, shouting broke out as the Marines turned into shepherds. A baby started crying, and a number of civilians started protesting. Ryck ignored them. His Marines could take care of the situation.

  Inside the salt dome, he had no connectivity. But he’d downloaded the route to the LZ, and he went over it. There was a route from the mine to the LZ, taking two paths. The dump truck should be able to handle it, Ryck thought. Unloaded, it would rise up a little higher, clearing the one or two hedgerows between the two locations.

  “Staff Sergeant, where was the last location you had the capys?”

  The recon Marine, who was rapidly regaining his breath, pulled down his monocle, then tapped over the coordinates. They appeared on Ryck’s display.

  It wasn’t good, but it could be worse, I guess, Ryck thought.

  It all depended on how fast they moved. From where SSgt Hills had them last, if they angled to their right, they could cut-off the Marines and civilians. If they came straight for the mine, Ryck thought they could reach the LZ, and if the Storks were on time, they could be gone before the capys could get there.


  “Joshua, get these people out of here. I’m going to the entrance to raise the company.”

  He spun around to leave when the supervisor rushed forward and planted himself in front of Ryck.

  “Lieutenant Alexander, your sergeant here is trying to tell me we can’t bring our vitals. Will you please correct his thinking?”

  Ryck looked over to where two young men had attached hover clamps to one of the barrels. It hovered six inches above the deck. While the barrel was essentially weightless, it still had mass, and maneuvering it took care. If it got going too fast, it could get out of control, and even a gentle turn would be out of the question. Something like that would slow down the movement to the LZ.

  “I believe Sgt Ariana, is correct. You can’t take it. And the name’s Lysander, not Alexander.”

  “But you don’t understand,” he protested. “Those are our vitals. Without them, the company can’t calculate out how much each of us have left to fulfill our contracts. For those who are employees, we need that for our bonuses. You may be technically in charge, but GKN will hold you responsible once all this blows over if the vitals don’t make it back.

  Ryck lowered his M99 and fired a long burst into the barrel, the two handlers diving to either side as it splintered.

  “They’ll know where to find me,” Ryck said as he turned to leave.

  Any “vitals” would have been able to fit in a hard drive, and those could be transmitted as soon as they left the mine. Something else had been in that barrel, not that Ryck cared. He didn’t even bother to look through the splintered pieces, still held aloft by the hover clamp, to see what was inside. It didn’t matter.

  Ryck ran down the passage and out into the sunlight. Immediately his comms lit up.

  “Grizzly-six, this is Grizzly-two-six. We’ve got 36 civilian pax[26], but we’ve got capys about to arrive at our position. What is the status on a pick-up here at our objective?”

  “Grizzly-two-six. Say again your last. You have enemy at your position, over?”