A flash darted between the trees. It was nothing more than a dark streak moving toward Money’s position. I followed, not sure if I was doing the right thing or not. As I came around a tree, I saw Money shoot another of the hunters, but a third was taking aim with it’s forearm-mounted, compressed air weapon.
“Look out!” I shouted.
Money dropped to the ground just as the hunter fired. The projectile flew over Money. I was charging at the alien, but it caught sight of me and turned. I saw the tiny muzzle of it’s weapon with crystal-clarity as I dropped to the ground in a feet-first slide. The hunter had anticipated my move, and didn’t fire. Instead, he continued tracking me with his weapon. I had no choice but to throw my knife at the hunter. He dodged the weapon easily, but I had just enough time to scramble behind a tree.
Money fired twice more. I heard bullets striking the trees around me, and the Master Sergeant cursed loudly. I didn’t have to ask if he had taken out the target. There were footsteps approaching, and I snatched up a fallen limb that was by my feet. When the hunter rounded the tree, I swung my club down on his arm. His weapon fired into the dirt, and the alien yelped like a wounded dog. I saw his long-fingered hand droop. It was the first time I had been close enough to see one of the Vena’s eyes up close. They were golden-colored with vertical, diamond-shaped pupils.
The hunter tried to back up, only to trip and fall on the ground. I raised my club, prepared to beat the alien to death, but something about the way it looked at me made me hesitate. I knew it had intended to kill me, but it clearly didn’t want to die. I kicked the alien in the side, forcing it to roll onto its stomach. Then I dropped down, pressing one knee into it’s upper back and the other pinned the creature’s long head to the ground.
“Porter?”
“I’m okay,” I shouted. “And I have the hunter in custody.”
My com-link crackled to life. “Orry, what’s going on?”
“All is well, Staff Sergeant. We ran into some company three klicks out, but we’re dealing with it.”
I never heard the shot that hit me. One second I was watching for Money to appear, and the next something tore through the flesh just above my right collarbone, adjacent to my neck. I fell back onto my butt, grabbing the wound as hot blood ran down my chest and back.
“I’m hit,” I said.
The hunter with the broken arm raised up and looked at me. I managed to kick out and hit the alien in it’s long face with the heel of my boot. It dropped back to the ground just as a three round burst from Money’s assault rifle rang out.
“Got the bastard,” Money said.
“Orry, how bad is your wound?” Barnes asked over the com-link.
“I”m okay,” I said in a shaky voice.
Money came running to where I sat, trying to staunch the bleeding. I managed to get the quick-clot gauze out of my jacket pocket. Money took it from me and began wadding it up and poking it into my wound.
“Looks superficial,” he said.
“Doesn’t feel superficial,” I replied.
“I found your knife,” Money said, holding up the weapon.
He cut off the collar of my cammie jacket so it wouldn’t rub against the wound. Then he used the tough fabric to tie the alien’s hands behind its back. I got slowly to my feet and held onto a tree while a wave of dizziness passed over me.
“Let’s get moving, Porter. The gun shots will have let any hunters within five klicks know right where we are.”
“Yes, Master Sergeant.”
Money picked up the hunter and slung the unconscious alien over his shoulder.
“At least they don’t weigh too much,” Money said. “One last push Orry, then you can rest.”
“Roger that,” I replied. “Damn, this hurts.”
“It’s muscular damage,” Money said. “Hurts like hell, but if we keep it clean it will heal up good as new. You’re lucky that shot didn’t hit your collar bone.”
“Porter,” Barnes said, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Report.”
“We’re moving, Staff Sergeant. Three klicks out.”
“Where were you shot?”
“It’s only a flesh wound, just above my collar bone,” I said. “We’re coming in and we have a prisoner.”
“Oh good. I was getting lonely,” Barnes said.
The hike back to the Base Camp took an hour. I led the way, pushing myself as hard as I ever had, but I knew that Money was struggling under the weight of the unconscious alien. We were fortunate not to run into any more aliens, and when we got back to the Base Camp it was clear that someone had been testing the defenses. Almost every tripwire had been blown. The trees around the clearing were splintered and blackened. I saw a few fresh bodies, mostly the Fae, but a few Prog as well.
The Command Post was still standing, the door wide open, but there were six spears lodged in the tough, polymer material that the structure’s walls were made of. I led the way inside, happy to see Staff Sergeant Barnes who was propped on one elbow, a rifle across his lap. The crate beside his bed was littered with empty MRE packages and water jugs.
“Damn good to see you, Orry,” Barnes said.
“It’s good to be seen. I didn’t think I would make it back.”
Barnes stiffened and saluted as Money lumbered in under the weight of his prisoner.
“You got one of the bastards, Master Sergeant,” Barnes said.
“At ease, Staff Sergeant. Orry got this one,” Money said as he dropped the alien onto the floor. “How are your legs?”
“Still broken I’m afraid.”
“Looks like you’ve had some company.”
“I’d be cooked if you hadn’t set those trip wires,” Barnes explained. “I only had to fend off one real attack. The little monkey-creatures didn’t even come near the Command Post. I fired a few shots out the door. They threw a few spears. Then they ran away.”
“Well, it’s time to hunker down and wait for the cavalry,” Money said.
“Speaking of that,” Barnes said with a grin. “We’ve got reinforcements in system. The Attila is inbound with a full battalion of Marines anxious for some payback.”
“Well then, let’s make sure they have a place to land. What’s their ETA?”
“Thirty-three hours to orbit, forty hours to get boots on the ground.”
“Good, we can rest a little, too,” Money said. “First things first. Let’s get you some water, Staff Sergeant. Your vacation is nearly over.”
“Roger that. I won’t miss this place. It’s too hot for my taste.”
Chapter 12
The first thing Money did was to put on armor, including a new Command Helmet. I pulled my helmet off and tore the wrapper off of a protein bar. The chocolate was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted. After a few bites, my appetite subsided, and I turned my attention to our captive. I searched the alien’s body and found what looked like an animal call of some type, some dried fruit, and a dollop of the healing paste that had been spread across my chest after the Vena ceremony where they had sliced me open. I recognized the smell of the strange ointment and immediately pulled the gauze from my wound.
“What are you doing, Porter?” Barnes asked.
“I found some of their ointment,” I said, looking to Money who was adjusting his helmet. “I was going to put it on my wound.”
“Go ahead,” Money said. “Then get that hunter bound. I want his feet tied together. Use the plastic zip ties.”
“Yes, Master Sergeant.”
“You did a good job setting this place up, Orry. But we need to clear the landing space, and secure our defenses. Do you think you can work?”
“I can,” I said, wishing I could just curl up on the bed and sleep, but knowing I would never be able to rest as long as the Base Camp was unsecured.
“Staff Sergeant, you monitor comms and keep an eye on the prisoner. I want to know the moment he wakes up.”
“Roger that, Master Sergeant,” Barnes said.
I spent a f
ull hour moving brush and debris from the clearing, including the corpses of several aliens. It was a hot, stinking job, but necessary. I worried about the ointment in my wound. I had been confident it would heal the damage, but it felt like someone was holding a red hot brand in the wound. I couldn’t wear armor without making the injury worse, so I settled for my Command Helmet and forced myself to keep working to distract myself from the pain. While I cleared the landing field, Money set more tripwires, marking each one with spray paint on our side of the clearing. I then set up several trail cameras with motion sensors around the camp where there were gaps in the forest. It wasn’t a perfect set up, but it was the best we could do in the thick jungle.
By the time I finished setting up the camera and syncing them to our security network, the burning in my shoulder had subsided. Money ordered me to rest, and I slept for two hours. When Barnes roused me, I could see that our prisoner was awake.
“Yeah, that creepy-eyed freak is awake and Money is on his way in to question him.”
“How is that possible?” I asked. “We don’t know their language.”
“Command Helmets have translation software built in. Yours picked up enough of their jibber jabber to get a rough translation going.”
“I thought I powered the helmet down?”
“You did,” Barnes said with a grin. “But I turned it back on using the remote feature a few hours later.”
“You can do that?” I asked.
“Technology is grand, kid. You were too far away for me to get a strong enough signal to access the video feed from your helmet, but I got plenty of audio. The communication AI worked the language and got a working translation going. Another few days, and it would be fluent.”
I shook my head, not quite believing Barnes, but trusting my superiors. I was glad to be the low man on the totem pole again. I didn’t want to do anything but follow someone else’s orders for a long time.
“How’s the shoulder?” Barnes asked.
“Better,” I said, shrugging to see how much the wound was hurting.
It amazed me how quickly the alien poultice could heal. I could feel that the paste had dried. There was some pain from the wound, but not much. My guess was, that by the time the Attila reached orbit, it would be completely healed.
Money came in and set his rifle on the table. He brought up the various camera feeds and inspected each one, adjusting a few that he felt were off slightly.
“Any word from the Attila?” Money asked.
“No, Master Sergeant,” Barnes replied. “They’re still on track to reach orbit in twenty-eight hours.”
“Which means they’re planning another night insertion,” Money said.
“One more day in paradise,” Barnes said.
“Porter, open the menu on your Command Helmet,” Money ordered.
“Yes, Master Sergeant,” I said automatically.
“Go to systems, communications, then auxiliary functions. Do you see a translation program?”
“Affirmative.”
“Open it, and lets get started.”
“This is Master Sergeant James Eubanks, initiating interrogation of captured Vena, designated Rogue One. I’m joined by Master Sergeant Howard Barnes and Private First Class Orion Porter. We are the last remaining members of Recon platoon Spartan Company, on Apex Venandi. I am beginning a video interview now.”
He typed in a command on the computer, and I saw a new icon on my HUD.
“Porter, you’ve got eyes on this. Let’s get it done before it gets dark.”
“Yes, Master Sergeant.”
I sat as close to the alien as I could get and still see Master Sergeant Eubanks on my helmet display.
“What’s your name?” Money asked the alien.
A strange barking sound came from the speakers of my helmet. The alien, which had been glassy eyed up to that point, suddenly looked at me with what could only be wonder. Then in barked a reply.
“K-R-U-P was spelled out on my HUD.”
“You are a Vena hunter, yes?” Money went on.
Krup nodded. Money turned, picked up the crystal of IX gas. The glow was gone, but the egg-shaped object, roughly the size of a football, was unmistakeable. Krup suddenly bowed low.
“What is this object?” Money asked.
My helmet barked, followed by Krup’s yipping reply. BREATH OF THE GODS appeared on my HUD.
The interview went on for almost an hour. It was soon clear that the Vena worshiped the crystals which occasionally rise up out of the volcano, not far from our Base Camp. The hunters were celebrated for their captures or kills in the jungle, which they brought back to their village. The primitive Fae were the least powerful of the five species, but the most numerous. The six-legged Gral were the most prized kill. A hunter who killed a Gral could become a chieftain of the Vena tribes.
As night began to fall, Money ended the interrogation and gave Krup some of his dried fruit to eat.
“What are we going to do with him?” I asked.
“Let me guess,” Barnes said. “You want to impale him on a spear and display his body for the natives to see, Porter. That was a sick thing you did with those little monkeys.”
“I was trying to keep them out of our gear,” I said.
“And it worked,” Money said. “That’s the only metric that matters in the Space Marines. We’ll hold onto Krup until the officers from the arriving battalion have a chance to question him. Then they’ll either trade him for something they need, or send him back to Earth to be studied.”
I felt a strange cramping in my gut. The thought of sending a primitive creature hundreds of light years through space, to a foreign world, where it would be studied for the rest of it’s natural life and put on display when it died, seemed wrong. Not that I would argue against it. It wasn’t my place to make policy. I was happy to leave the big decisions to the officers. My job was to stay alive and help my platoon mates stay alive. We had a little over a day left before help would arrive. Until then, I wouldn’t burden myself with questions I couldn’t answer.
Chapter 13
I took first watch that night. The Command Post was hot. My helmet smelled like sweat, but that was a welcome change from the body odor in the small structure. The Vena smelled like a sweaty horse, and sat watching the monitors in wonder. The murky green images were hard to make out, but it was clear enough that we were looking at the jungle from the edge of the Base Camp clearing.
Fatigue was the new normal for me. I couldn’t remember the last time I wasn’t tired. Whenever I felt sleepy, I would stand up. There wasn’t room in the structure for pacing, but standing worked to keep me awake. Krup didn’t speak unless he was spoken to, nor did I see the lanky alien try to break free of his bonds. It would have been impossible without a weapon of some sort. I wanted to ask Krup about why Money and I had been taken prisoner and made to fight. Was it something that was part of their culture, simply entertainment, or maybe even a religious rite? There was no time to find out. A person could spend years studying the different intelligent species on Apex Venandi. My main concern was getting back to the rest of my platoon.
The night passed without incident. Money relieved me a few hours before dawn, thanking me for the extra sleep he’d gotten. At dawn I was up and moving again. We had one day to finish preparing the Base Camp for our new arrivals. There were two more structures like the Command Post in crates. Working together, we had both constructed by mid-afternoon. Money was marking various places on the ground with spray paint that would help guide in the transports from the Attila when Barnes shouted to us from the Command Post.
“We’ve got company!”
I was eating chicken and noodles from a package in the shade of one of the newly erected buildings. I dropped my meal, snatched up my assault rifle and ran to the cover of the now empty crates near the entrance to the Command Post. My shoulder was nearly healed, and I pulled on body armor over my compression shirt and bandaged shoulder. Money took a position near
mine. We had an array of weapons between us, and enough ammunition to keep up a firefight for days.
“What do you see, Staff sergeant?” Money asked.
“Monkeys, about thirty of them. They’re on foot and armed with spears,” Barnes explained. “Approaching on your eleven o’clock.”
“Roger that,” Money said. “Looks like they’re avoiding the trip wires.”
“I told you they were learning,” Barnes insisted.
“When they attacked before Lieutenant Rigel left, they came in waves,” I said. “Do you see any of their dragonflies, Staff Sergeant?”
“Negative Porter. Just the monkeys.”
Krup barked several times. His yelps didn’t carry over the comlink, but we were close enough to the Command Post that my helmet heard and translated the alien’s barks. ENEMY WARRIORS RUGFED CLAN.
“Porter, at the first sign of the Fae toss a grenade straight at them,” Money said. “I’ll lay down covering-fire.”
“Yes, Master Sergeant.”
“Here they come,” Barnes warned us. “Fifteen monkeys on the run.”
I waited, my heart was pounding in my chest, and my breath felt as though I was trying to breathe through a damp cloth. I couldn’t see anything, and my mind felt as though I were being tricked. Surely, I thought, no threat could be coming that I couldn’t see. I shook the thought away, pulled the plug on the round grenade, and watched for movement.
Just when I was about to ask if I was looking in the wrong place, I saw shadows in the gloom of the jungle. Our Base Camp was clear of the thick canopy that blocked the bright sunlight. I was squinting, my muscles tense, with sweat running down my back. The Fae came rushing in, brandishing spears and chattering like a troop of monkeys in a zoo at feeding time.
I threw the grenade without a second thought, then dropped back behind the crate and picked up my assault rifle. Beside me, Money fired away, his weapon set to full auto. He emptied a clip of depleted uranium rounds into the diminutive Fae warriors, who died fearlessly. The grenade hit the ground right at the edge of the tree line and bounced up as a second group of Fae hurried forward. The explosion killed most of the Fae in the second wave. One survived, but was too injured to keep fighting. And another continued forward, unscathed. The fearless warrior ran into the clearing and launched his spear. It hit the crate in front of Money and knocked the heavy box into him as he reloaded his assault rifle.
Spartan Valor Page 6