by B. V. Larson
He grunted in disgust. “The Primus became overjoyed by the idea that we might end this fight with the aliens peacefully. The surviving centurions have reported back to her that the effort to talk to the freaks failed, but she hasn’t given the go-order yet. She’s still hoping.”
I looked back over my shoulder. The distant ridge that hid our main camp was about two kilometers away. I figured the Primus was back there second-guessing everything we were doing up here on the front line.
“I get it,” I said. “You want me to go rogue and take the blame for starting this battle. Is that it?”
“Exactly.”
I turned away from him and sighted my weapon on the closest giant, but I didn’t fire.
“Forget it, sir,” I said. “Man-up and do it your damned self.”
Leeson cursed me and kicked dirt on the back of my armor. I smiled inside my helmet.
“Shit, McGill. You’re even annoying when you’re following orders. Fine!”
Leeson drew his sidearm and shot the nearest giant in the belly. It was a nice shot, actually. I could see the impact point perfectly.
But, instead of a burning hole that revealed red guts inside, the laser bolt splashed and split apart into shimmering flashes of color.
“I’ll be damned,” Leeson said. “The giants have body-shields.”
He didn’t have time to say anything else because, after that, all hell broke loose.
-29-
When we had power to spare, any heavy trooper’s suit could generate a thin body-shield. They weren’t really useful in prolonged firefights, however, as they drained your reserves too fast. We couldn’t use them when we were charging across a field, either, because we needed every kilowatt to operate our motor systems.
Although we hadn’t used shields much in this conflict, it was still a shock to see the enemy had the technology at all. These squids weren’t losers, I had to say that for them. As far as I could tell, they didn’t have revival machines, but they had pretty good tech otherwise.
After Leeson discharged his weapon and lit up one of the giants, there was about a two second pause—and then it seemed like everyone on the field began hosing the other side with indiscriminate fire.
The giant he’d hit initially looked down stupidly at his belly, which was undamaged but sparkling. He touched the area, then his quizzical expression turned to one of dark rage. He lifted the heavy projector attached to his arm and blazed power in our direction.
Rocks popped, and sand melted to glass. We hunkered down as the beam swept over us, and no one died immediately. The moment the beam had rolled by, I took aim and fired my cannon back at the enemy lines.
Leeson was right, of course. I did want to burn these freaks and run them off the planet. This was the moment I’d been waiting for. But I’d gotten tired of being the only guy who took drastic action and catching hell for it later, so I’d let the Adjunct go first this time.
“Firing center!” I shouted, warning the troopers around me. Plasma cannons had a serious back-blast and more than one legionnaire had been crisped by trotting behind a weaponeer at the wrong moment.
My beam didn’t splash against the giant’s shield. I’d decided to light up the squad of littermates at his feet instead. I nailed one full in the chest, slagging his armor and dropping him right there on the ramp. I have to tell you, it was the best feeling I’d had all day.
The other littermates immediately went ape and charged. That was enough to change the tune of the officers around me. They’d been shouting orders to hold our fire—not including Leeson. They recalibrated their minds in a hurry when they saw those crazed heavy troopers bounding across the short span of sand between our makeshift defensive position and the ship’s ramps.
All of a sudden, the air was alive with bolts of power mixed in with a few heavy projectiles. A missile-launching team on our side let loose from the middle of our circle of rocks, and they aimed in the same direction I had.
The very giant that had started all this was hit hard. His shield buckled, going burnt orange and flickering. He was knocked flat by the blast—but he got up again. I was stunned. If a direct hit from a portable missile battery couldn’t take one of these guys down…this was going to be interesting.
All nine squads of littermates were in the fight at this point. Most of the squads were advancing at a stately pace, as if they were taking a stroll in the park. They fired their weapons sporadically, spanging bullets off our rocks. When one of those explosive rounds hit one of our men square-on, it took him out as often as not.
But as we poured back fire into their advancing squares, eventually we knocked out one of them, and the rest predictably charged. After that, we took most of them down before they reached us. When the survivors did manage to make it to our lines, a desperate melee began. I watched as troopers on both sides were cut apart and gutted in their shining armor.
I stood up and fired my cannon point-blank. I took out a charging, bug-eyed berserker who was knocked on his smoldering ass, stone dead.
There wasn’t any time to congratulate myself. It seemed that the sky had darkened.
I turned and gaped upward. One of the giants had arrived, towering over my clump of rocks. He had a sword in one hand, which he used to thrust and cut. I saw men get hit by that thing—it was like being struck by a blade the size of a car. Limbs were shorn off, and troopers fell, howling.
The giant’s projector swept the scene methodically, burning victims as they crawled away. An idiot’s grin rode his face, as if he was enjoying his butchery. His personal shield sparkled, like it was in a rainstorm, deflecting dozens of light, incoming fire.
Staggered backward, I shook my cannon and cursed at it. The recycle time on these units seemed like an eternity when you were about to die.
Finally, a green indicator LED flickered on, and I shouldered my weapon. Somehow, I think the giant sensed I was about to take him out. His sword arm swept forward—
I fired. I think I’d been holding the trigger down, in fact, for several long seconds. Finally, the chamber cleared and the weapon released a fresh gush of energy.
Getting hammered by a plasma cannon isn’t like being hit by a laser pistol. Still, I thought it would have been less effective if the giant hadn’t been recently hit by a missile. These force fields were touchy, and it took a minute or two after a hard strike for them to settle down, turn glassy, and be fully integrated again.
The field collapsed, and my beam made it through. I held the trigger down, ignoring overcharge warnings and heat indicators. I had to keep the beam going until the job was done.
The giant’s chest was a smoking ruin before I let go of that trigger. He toppled backward scattering a group of my comrades who’d been trying to come in behind him to hamstring him. They never got the chance. He was dead before he hit the rocks.
A heavy hand clapped me on the shoulder. “Good job, McGill,” Harris said. Leeson walked up and surveyed the scene.
The enemy charge had been broken, and they’d been killed down to the last man. On our own side, we’d lost about fifty troops.
“The revival machines are going to be busy tonight,” I said.
Leeson shook his head seriously. “No, I don’t think so. The enemy took out our machine.”
“What?” demanded Harris, his voice cracking high in alarm.
“That’s right. Remember that flying platform? Another one of them just swooped down and nailed the camp a few minutes ago. Maybe that’s why the enemy was standing around here waiting. They seemed to know just where to hit us, and they took out the medical bunker.”
“But sir,” Harris said, looking around in alarm. “Can I assume we’re synched up with the other valleys for revivals? We just lost a lot of people. We can’t have all these troops permed.”
Leeson looked at him. “Don’t worry, Vet. I’m sure the techs are working on it. Now, let’s talk about taking that ship.”
He pointed toward the yawning ramps. They were all still fully e
xtended. Inside, the ship looked cavernous and black.
“Shouldn’t we wait until the revival machines are—”
“No,” said Leeson firmly. “We’re moving out now. Graves is dead, so I’m assuming command of what’s left of this unit. We’re not going to fold into the other units right now. There isn’t time. We have to take advantage of the situation.”
Harris began to argue, but I could see Leeson’s point.
“That’s right, sir,” I said. “The squids might wise up and close their hatches any second now.”
Leeson nodded. “Here, McGill. Take this.”
He handed me a new plasma cannon. For a second, I didn’t understand why he’d given it to me, but then I noticed that the indicator lights on mine were locked red. The unit had overloaded during that last blast and hadn’t recovered. It would take a tech hours to fix it—if it could be done at all. The new weapon had a few dents in it, but it looked serviceable.
“Where did this come from?” I asked.
“Sargon died with it in his hands,” Leeson said. “I’m sure he’d be happy to know you had it now.”
I wasn’t so sure he’d be happy, but I took the weapon anyway and discarded my own unit. I plugged it into the grid, slapped in a fresh cartridge and gave Leeson the thumbs up.
“Come on, at a trot now!” Leeson shouted. “Advance!”
Harris and I followed. We moved toward the nearest ramp. The other two Centurions had teams of their own heading toward the ramp as well. If I had to guess, I’d say there were less than two hundred of us left alive.
I had to wonder what was going on back at camp. If the enemy had attacked the camp and taken out the bio people, it was certain we weren’t going to be seeing any reinforcements up here at the front.
The ramp was so huge it looked unreal. It must have been a meter thick and made of pure, black metal. The hull of this thing was dense and dull in color.
“This is bullshit,” Harris complained. “Total bullshit! We should fall back and hold our position, waiting for fresh troops.”
“They might seal the ship by that time, Vet,” I said.
Harris didn’t seem to hear me. “Hell, they could be flying them in from the other valleys by now,” he said. “If the Tribune really wanted to win this fight, he could do it now. I don’t get the brass sometimes. I really don’t.”
Harris went on like that as we mounted the ramp and clanged into the interior. I knew what he was really upset about, of course. He liked dying even less than the rest of us. But the idea of dying without a revival machine waiting for you back at camp—well, to a member of Legion Varus, that sounded just plain wrong. Getting permed was a fate for some other loser, not for one of us.
Once we reached the top of the ramp and entered the ship itself, a cool gloom closed over us. Dozens of troopers hustled in behind me.
I think every one of us slowed down when we actually stepped into the ship. It was hard not to.
The ship was…different. You just knew, looking around, that your tiny little human ass didn’t belong here. The ship had been built by true aliens—aliens so utterly different from us that they didn’t have much in the way of recognizable features on the distant walls or the high ceiling. There were no markings, no lights, and no flashing symbols.
Instead, there were sweeping streaks of glimmering reflections on the floor of the ship. I hadn’t seen the phenomenon in the ramp itself, but here in the dim interior it was unmistakable.
“Is that writing of some kind?” I asked Harris.
He frowned at me, then frowned at the deck. “Looks like various metals all mixed together.”
“I think it’s more complex than that,” I said. “The metal is reflective—various tones of silver and dark gray mixed in flowing streaks.”
“I know what the hell it looks like!” Harris snapped. “I’m trotting along next to you. Don’t you think I have eyes? Forget the damned floor, McGill. Look for targets!”
He had a point there. I lifted my eyes and peered into the vast, dark chamber we were marching farther into every second. The place was strange. It seemed to have a closeness to it even though it was obviously huge.
“Mists,” I said, waving my hands at the air that seemed to coalesce and move around me like thick, silvery smoke. “The atmosphere in here—”
I broke off as a screeching sound began. I turned to see who was in trouble. A trooper was down right behind me. I grimaced realizing it was Kivi.
“Back up, give her some air!” shouted Harris.
I could see Kivi’s face. She was in agony, and her visor was up.
“No!” I shouted. “Close her visor! She doesn’t need air, she needs to keep her visor shut!”
Harris finally got what I was suggesting. He reached down and closed Kivi’s faceplate. I could see her in there, still squirming in pain and dying. It was too late for her.
“Leeson!” I shouted. “Nanites, sir! We’ve got clouds of nanites in the air. I think they’re on the floor everywhere, being activated as we walk by. Close all vents and faceplates!”
“Do it!” shouted Leeson.
Six more people went down before we’d all buttoned up our suits. While troopers milled around and tried to help their stricken comrades, I cranked my weapon, broadening the beam to its widest setting. I fired an experimental cone into the air. Leeson was all over me after that.
“What’d you see?” he demanded, staring upward.
I pointed at the deck. “Look, see that fine grit? Those are dead nanites. They look kind of like graphite dust.”
Leeson stared. Finally, he got it. He passed the word on. Soon, we were marching behind a line of weaponeers who were hosing down every centimeter of the ship’s hull and even the air around us with broad blasts from their cannons. But that was costing too much power. We halted our advance and retreated a hundred steps.
I looked over my shoulder toward the open door behind me. Outside, the sun blazed.
“We haven’t made it very far into the ship,” I said. “I think these nanites are like watchdogs. Maybe they know friend from foe.”
Leeson shook his head and conferred with the other centurions. They weren’t sure how to proceed. I went out into the sunshine again and stood on the ramp looking around.
Harris came out to join me. “This is a charley-foxtrot,” he said, and I had to agree with him. “Look over there,” Harris said, pointing. “There are those colonist buddies of yours. They’re probably having a good laugh at our troubles.”
Surprised, I followed his jabbing finger. He was right. A few colonist fighters were in the area we’d come from, squatting on some of the same rocks.
“They’re unusually brave with us in front of them,” I said. “You mind if I go talk to them?”
“Suit yourself,” Harris said. “But don’t go running off down any of those rabbit holes with them. I won’t cover for you if you do.”
His statement baffled me. I couldn’t recall Harris covering for me on any occasion—or for anyone else.
I walked up to the colonists calmly, with my weapons and hands down. They eyed me with flat stares. No one waved or shouted a greeting. I guess I would have to count myself lucky they weren’t shooting at me with their crossbows.
I saw they were in battle gear as I drew near. Rather than the near-naked state they’d been in while underground or hunting, they were in black, loose-fitting clothes. Their faces were painted with cooling paint that would hide their heat signatures. They held their weapons loosely, but I could tell they were ready to snap them up and fight if I made a wrong move.
“Hello!” I called when I was about ten meters away. “Can you guys help us out?”
They looked from one to the other and shook their heads bemusedly. I thought I might have recognized one or two of them. I’d hoped Della would be among them—but she wasn’t.
“We’ve found hostile nanites inside the ship,” I said. “They seem to be all over the place, killing our troops if we
go inside too far.”
One man broke ranks and stepped up to me. He was short in stature but had wide muscular shoulders and a sure-footed stance. “Those nanites are not ours,” he said.
“Yeah, I figured that. But do you know how to switch them off? To get past them?”
“Yes,” he said. “You must strip away all your gear. Find manacles and apply them to each wrist. Cross your arms so they clasp firmly and can’t be pulled apart. When you are naked and helpless, the nanites will let you pass and join your new masters.”
I didn’t like his explanation or his attitude. I nodded to him.
“Thanks a lot for that valuable information. Too bad none of you are brave enough to enter this ship or smart enough to figure out a way to pass the nanites. Don’t worry, we’ll do the job for you. Go back and hide in your holes. You might get a sunburn or a bug-bite out here. Wouldn’t want that to happen to civvies.”
The short guy’s smile faded. I think he understood that I’d insulted him. This made me happy.
As I turned to go, he called me back.
“What is this you call us? What is a ‘civvie’?”
“Civilian. A non-combatant. Someone who must be protected from harm by real soldiers.”
The colonists looked from one to the next. They were all frowning now.
“I’m a scout,” said the short guy. “This is my team. We’re not civvies.”
I laughed. “Really? Then come on inside the ship with us and end this fight. Put up or shut up—civvie.”
I walked away without bothering to look back. If there was one thing I couldn’t abide it was a mouthy, arrogant bystander who complained behind your back and didn’t have the guts to join the fight himself.
Harris looked at me quizzically as I mounted the ramp and returned to his side. Leeson walked over to join us as well.
Leeson gestured behind me. “You want to introduce your new friends?” he asked.
I turned in surprise. The colonists had quietly followed me up the ramp. They didn’t look happy, but I could tell they were game. There were seven altogether, and their eyes roved around the interior of the big ship. I was impressed by their bravery, as I knew this vessel had come straight from Hell as far as they were concerned.
