Stark's Command

by John G. Hemry

  "You don't even know for sure where they are," Vic stated softly, drawing a surprised reaction from Stark. "Didn't know you transmitted that, huh? This is the hard part, Commander. Keeping yourself out of the action so you can command."

  "It doesn't feel right."

  "I know. I almost wish they'd hit the Command Center again so I'd feel useful."

  "I'm not that desperate." Vic's words jabbed at his conscience, bringing up thoughts he'd tried to suppress. "How're the wounded?" Stark demanded of his makeshift medics.

  "Tanaka's dead," Corporal Guerrero reported shakily. "We couldn't save her. I think Vreeland will make it."

  "Damn." Stark brought a tightly clenched fist down on the panel before him.

  "Commander?" Sergeant Tran gestured urgently. "The worm's been killed. We've got internal scan again."

  "Thank God." Why couldn't that have happened a couple of minutes ago, before Tanaka ran to her death? Why? Is anybody ever gonna figure out the answer to that kind of question? Stark watched as the display flared to life, raising his hand to stab at the glowing symbology. "Vic, if I'm reading this right, if there's not another worm screwing up the picture, our own people are fighting their way in from the entrances."

  "Yes. That's Taylor's company. They're rapid reaction for this area. Over here's . . . who the hell is that?"

  "Scratch force," Stark decided. "Everybody who could get here fast." He clenched a fist in sudden elation. "Sanchez is in charge of 'em. He must have still been pretty close when the alarm sounded. Tran, we got internal comms yet? Yeah? Sanch, this is Stark."

  "Roger." The response was weaker than it should be and riddled with static, but clear enough to be unmistakable. "Where are you?"

  "The Command Center. We're holding it. We've got internal scan again. Can you tap in?"

  "Wait. Ah. I have it. Shunting it down to my personnel. This will simplify our counterattack."

  "Be careful, Sanchez," Reynolds cautioned. "These guys know what they're doing. We've taken a lot of casualties."

  "Understood. We won't take unnecessary chances."

  "Is anything going down anywhere else, Sanch?" Stark demanded.

  "Negative. The perimeter is quiet and all other military sectors are on full alert, but report no activity. The Colony leaders have offered any assistance we require."

  Vic smiled sardonically. "Guess they've decided we're going to win."

  Before Stark could reply, Sanchez did. "Sergeant Reynolds, the civilians made the offer as soon as they were aware of the attack."

  Stark nodded to Vic, enjoying the brief look of surprise on her face. "Thanks, Sanch. Vic, bring Taylor up to date while I try to see what's going on."

  As Reynolds quickly notified Taylor and her company of the internal scan, Stark fumbled with his display, cursing as he tried to pull up vid. "I think Gomez and the Mendozas were in this area, and we've got a gap in our scan there where somebody's still doing short-range jamming. Here. Look." The picture wavered, bands of random pixels running through it as the remaining enemy soldiers tried to jam signals in their area. It was the same hall Stark had observed before, but seen from the other end. More battle armored bodies than he remembered, all splayed short of the doorway where Gomez and the Mendozas had made their stand. "They're still there, Vic. They're still there."

  Reynolds stared in disbelief. "Amazing. How'd their ammo last?"

  "I dunno. It's gotta be almost gone. Where's Sanch?" Stark scanned the display, an empty space growing inside him. "It's gonna take him a while to get there. Isn't it?" So close. So damn close.

  "Yeah," Vic agreed, frustration edging back into her voice. "Too long. The raiders have some guards at the other end of that hall they're in. Bet on it."

  Bloody grass, waving before Stark's eyes in the red glow of the emergency lighting, intermingling with the multicolored patterns enemy jamming cast across the vid. Remembrance of help too far away and too late. Vid of the hallway trembled, steadied, then went back into its wavering dance. Stark eyed the figures in the doorway, then quickly tried to focus closer on them. "They're arguing. Why are they arguing?" Gomez had her hand up, pointing down and then across the hall, then back at herself. Lieutenant Mendoza shook his head, froze Gomez with a gesture, touched his son's shoulder. A moment later, the Lieutenant was gone. Stark watched, helpless, as Lieutenant Mendoza launched himself across the gaping hallway, body flat to minimize his exposure. Watched as the Lieutenant's body seemed to rock in midflight from impacts as the raiders poured fire down the hallway. "Ah, hell," he finally whispered, as momentum carried the Lieutenant on into the room his leap had aimed for.

  Stark couldn't get audio from the rec room, but he could see Gomez firing and screaming in anger as she tried to cover the Lieutenant's movement. Then an object flew back across the hall, landing at her feet, and the Corporal dumped out ammunition clips, their shapes unmistakable even in the ragged vid, and began hastily reloading her weapon.

  The raiders charged, figuring out moments too late why the Lieutenant had made his move. Gomez and Mendo cut the leading attackers down, a hail of bullets flaying chips from the rock walls, then vid blanked. "What the hell happened?" Stark shouted.

  Vic punched her own panel repeatedly, shaking her head. "No response from the vid camera. It must have been hit by a stray round." She faced Stark squarely. "Don't worry. We saw what we needed to see. They'll make it."

  Stark shook his head as if in denial of her words. "Two of them will. How bad did the Lieutenant get hit?"

  "We won't know until Sanchez gets there. Lieutenant Mendoza did what he had to do, Ethan."

  "I know that."

  Vic nodded, clasped Stark's arm for a moment, then slumped back as if overcome with weariness. "Bad as it's been, I think we've won this one, Ethan. Any attacker still in headquarters is trapped, just like the ones Gomez has pinned down."

  "Trapped animals can be real vicious, Vic. How can we be sure one last group won't try a real kamikaze on us here?"

  "We can't. But maybe we can find out for sure who's still out there and where they were." Vic fumbled futilely at her console before turning to Tran. "Is there any system history for the last half-hour?"

  "Uh, yeah. Fragmentary. The worm must have been shredding the system files when we axed it. Here it is."

  "Look, Ethan." Now Vic's finger traced multiple paths. "They overran the sentry posts first."

  "No warnings," Stark noted angrily, "except from Post Four."

  "No. We'll have to find out why. Then some headed for the Command Center, some for Security Central, and some hit the Commanding General's suite."

  Stark nodded grimly. "I saw part of that."

  "Right." She indicated a motionless symbol. "Tran, can we get vid of this?"

  "Yes. Got it."

  The figure sitting against the wall seemed asleep, head hanging down on his chest, but the blood streaking his arms and chest told another story. "Damn," Stark breathed. "The gardener. I should have insisted on teaching those poor apes how to fight."

  "It wouldn't have done that one much good if you did," Reynolds commented bitterly. "Okay, from there they headed toward . . . why that way?"

  Stark indicated another section. "Rendezvous. They were gonna meet up with another group. These guys. But they stopped moving."

  "Yeah. Let's find out why."

  It took Stark a moment to grasp the picture even after it steadied. "Oh, God. That's Murphy. I did see him. He's down."

  Vic nodded, adjusting the controls as quickly as her fingers could fly. "Scan says he's still alive. Barely. He's lying on something. No, someone. Protecting him?"

  "Protecting her," Stark advised, his tone bleak. "That's his girl. See the hair?"

  "Robin?" Vic glanced up, then down at the readouts again. "She's dead."

  "You sure?"

  "No question." Reynolds looked up, face drawn. "So are the attackers. Ethan, Murphy took out six of them."

  "Yeah. He must have gone berserker when she got h
it." Stark fought off a tight feeling in his chest that threatened to choke him. "Why in God's name . . . get some medical help to him. Can we get a medic there?"

  "I'll go myself, if I have to. Taylor? Your people are closest to this location. We've got a soldier down, badly wounded, scan shows no threat activity between you and him."

  "Roger. I'll send a squad there on the double with our medic. Be advised we're still hearing firing off to our right."

  "Your right?" Vic questioned, looking at the display. "No problem. Sergeant Sanchez is dealing with an enemy force in that area."

  "He gonna push 'em into me?" Taylor demanded.

  "Negative. The enemy is trapped between Sanchez and another friendly force. They won't be going anywhere."

  "Okay. My medic's on the way. I'll keep a manual sweep going just in case anybody's hiding somehow."

  "Good idea," Vic approved. "We still don't know how they got in here without being spotted."

  Stark broke in, speaking with deliberate control. "Sanch, Corporal Gomez needs your help fast. They've taken casualties."

  "Understood," Sanchez replied with apparent calm. "We are overrunning the rear guard for that location now. Corporal Gomez will be relieved momentarily."

  "Thanks, Sanch. I owe you another." Stark let his hands fall limply, then looked over at Reynolds. "What else, Vic? What else should we be doin'? We're missing somethin'." A ghost. Stark stared upward, trying to divert his mind from recent tragedy, squinting as if he could see through the rock ceiling to space above. "There's gotta be a pickup out there, Vic. A shuttle hangin' around to drop in again and pull these guys out. Tanaka—" He bit off the name, glaring at nothing for a moment. "Tran. Call the orbital defenses. Tell them there's a shuttle out there we haven't detected. They've got to be spoofing our sensors, but the civs spotted it for a sec. Tell our people to do a manual scan and coordinate it with the civ scans. I want that shuttle."

  "Yes, Commander."

  "And tell Wiseman. One of our armed shuttles might be able to nail it."

  "Ethan."

  He stared at her, emotions running riot inside. "What?"

  "We want prisoners." Stark looked away. "Ethan, we need prisoners. To interrogate. To find out exactly who launched this attack."

  "Yeah. And get even with 'em. Everybody, listen up. I need some prisoners."

  "These guys ain't surrendering, Stark!"

  "I know. See what you can do." He glanced at Vic. "Happy?"

  She shook her head. "I can't remember happy, Ethan. Not right now."

  Stark hesitated another moment, then called up vid from Sanchez's armor. Smoothly gliding down a hall, a half-dozen armored figures just ahead, their backs overlain with comfortingly friendly symbology. Stopping. Kneeling, rifles aimed down the hall, where a cluster of enemy symbology displayed raiders firing around the next corner, still oblivious to the trap closing on them. Sanchez's vid shifted as he stood, then Stark heard him call out over his suit's external speaker. "Surrender immediately!" Then the vid dropped as Sanchez did, avoiding a wave of incoming bullets, the soldiers in front of him firing back, pausing as the enemy fire broke off, then leaping to their feet and charging forward. "They are trying to break out!" Sanchez commanded his troops. "Keep on them."

  The end of the hall, a corner littered with expended ammunition clips and cluttered with bodies in Mark V armor, then around the corner, Stark fighting dizziness as he held on to Sanchez's vid picture. Over more bodies, a couple of them still dropping to the floor with nightmare slowness in the low gravity. Stopping, where one remaining figure stood, hands high, weaving slightly, bright red blood spreading slowly down its leg from a jagged tear in the armor near one hip. On the other side of the prisoner Corporal Gomez was visible, her weapon lined up, face rigid. Stark toggled a comm circuit as fast as he could, appropriating Sanchez's external speaker. "Corporal Gomez! Lower your weapon. Now."

  She jerked in reaction, staring past the enemy soldier, then slowly brought the weapon barrel down.

  "You believe she would have killed the prisoner?" Sanchez asked Stark.

  "Sanch, I would've been real tempted in her place. Where's Private Mendoza?"

  Sanchez repeated the question to Gomez, who pointed wordlessly to the room where Lieutenant Mendoza's leap had ended.

  "Get a medic in there, Sanch," Stark urged.

  "Of course." Sanchez raised one hand, a finger singling out another soldier and beckoning her forward. "In there, please. There are wounded. Commander Stark, we appear to have eliminated all resistance in this area of the headquarters complex."

  "Roger. Taylor's company is running sweeps through the rest of headquarters, but it looks like we nailed all of 'em." Stark's voice sounded thin even to himself. "I'm coming down there. Just hold on a sec." Stark turned to Vic, fighting down another dark vision. "It's all over. I'm not needed here now." The words came out as a half-question, directed her way.

  Reynolds nodded quickly. "Right. Go ahead, Ethan. I'll let you know if there's anything else."

  Stark hesitated, one foot angling toward the door. "Murphy? They get to him in time?"

  "They got to him. They don't know whether or not it'll be in time yet. The human body can only take so much punishment."

  "I know." He ran, yanking aside the battered barrier, duct tape falling away in graceful, gentle twists and turns like some sort of clumsy confetti. The halls were oddly hushed now, without the din of battle echoing, and without the normal sounds of business being conducted by the men and women who lived and worked here. Stark reached the area where Sanchez waited, his helmet unsealed, his face emotionless. Gomez stood slumped, back against the wall, her rifle trailing barrel-down from one hand, her face bleak. "Anita. You okay?"

  "Sí, Sargento."

  "Good Lord." Stark stared at the armored bodies lying about. In the rush of action, he hadn't bothered tallying symbology for dead enemies. Now he found himself shaking his head in wonder. "You did this?"

  "Me an' Mendo, and his dad. The Lieutenant." Something about the way she said the last two words gave them a grim finality.

  "The medic still in there? With Mendo and his dad?"

  Gomez, her eyes hooded, jerked her head in negation. "No. Not anymore. The medic couldn't help. That Lieutenant, he saved us, Sargento."

  Stark stared wordlessly at the epitaph, then walked silently to gaze into the room where Mendo knelt next to his father, heedless of the pool of blood around him. Strange, yet oddly right, that tears fell so slowly on the Moon, as if only here could human grief slow time. Stark retreated silently until he stood beside Gomez and Sanchez once more. "Damn. Damn it all."

  The words hung there a moment, then Sanchez began speaking quietly, the elegant phrases in strange contrast to his battle armor and ready weapon. "This evening there was no glory left, but the terror of the broken flesh, which had been our own men, carried past us to their homes.' "

  Stark closed his own eyes briefly. "Sounds like you're quoting somebody, Sanch."

  "Yes. An Englishman named Lawrence."

  "A Brit, huh? Which war he fight in?"

  "The First World War."

  "I remember Mendo talkin' about that war." Funny the things I don't know about Sanch even after fighting beside him for years. Funny how much we all keep inside. "That war sounded even stupider than the wars we've fought." A moment more of brooding, then Stark turned to Corporal Gomez. "We'll make sure Mendo's got privacy, Anita. As much as he needs."

  "Sí. That was one good officer, Sargento."

  "Yeah."

  "Never thought I'd meet one like that. I never thought I'd care when one got nailed. I was gonna try to go. Me. Get the extra ammo we needed." The words spilled out rapidly, as if they had been held in by great effort. "The Lieutenant said no. He said a commander had to . . . had to choose the right person for a job. Said I was the best fighter, and Mendo was good, too. Then he said somethin' to Mendo, and he was gone. I couldn't stop him. Where are we gonna find another officer like that,
Sargento?"

  "Exactly like that? I dunno. But we're gonna need more officers like him, Anita. What about you?"

  "Huh?" Gomez looked up in disbelief. "Sargento, I ain't good enough for that. I sure ain't as good as he was."

  "You could be. At least you could try."

  She glanced back to the room where Mendo grieved. "I guess, maybe."

  "Think about it. How'd you realize these guys were enemy before they nailed you, anyway?"