Blake rises from the body and comes to the top of the trench, so he is a few meters taller than all of us. The snowy wind flaps his cloak and scarf about as he talks. “Listen up! We are holding this line to they reach us, where we’ll organize a withdrawal to the next line of trenches.”
Herus looks at him broodingly, then turns around leading the marines in a war cry as the Herculeans advance. The Herculeans are too close for my grenades to do any effect with Pi’s target tactic. I switch to my LMG and order him to do the same. The Herculeans are about forty meters away, and I focus my weapon at any exposed positions to try and pick a few off.
Blue beams strike out against our trenches from hip fired Herculean gunners, similar to our shotguns. Whole areas of the trench are blown away and scorched as marines fall to the snow burning and screaming. The Herculeans try leaving their shields to charge us. We cut them down with concentrated fire and they stop their futile attempts, and instead march the shields closer to the trenches as before.
“I’m down,” moans Pi through my earpiece.
I check my visor to review his personal statistics. His left arm has been completely blown off, probably by one of those beams.
“Activate trauma support now Pi,” I say. The suit icon of him appears on my visor as a miniature figurine. The outline of his left arm is black with an explanation mark. After the command I gave, a green line appears at the edge where his arm was blown off and a new warning emote alarms on the visor, declaring that he is in a static state as morphine and plasma rush to his wound.
“Zero, cover fire while I retrieve Pi, drop a beacon so he can be evaced immediately.”
“Copy Ram.”
I unhook a smoke grenade, and toss it near Pi to shield him from Herculean fire while I move to his location. The Herculeans are twenty meters away, plasma fire at its highest intensity. Marines fall by the score, as wide plasma bursts rip through their flesh leaving behind smoldering exit holes and severed limbs. The snow turns a darker red as both species hit the ground. I alternate my LMG to its slug bursts option, and straddle the weapon sideways across my chest firing out of the trench as I reach Pi. Long sweeping bursts of shrapnel escape my weapon’s tip and cut away at charging Herculeans. I see Pi slumped against a piece of trench covered in a bath of his own blood, and the crisp remains of an arm smoldering about his feet.
“This is it men!” says Blake. “Everyone, if you have frags or phosphorous, hurl them on my mark!” Their shields are about ten meters away. I can hear the Herculean’s war cries at their loudest as they close in. “Then we will pull back a few meters and repeat!” finishes Blake.
“Pi, status report.”
“I—, what—what the fuck…”
“Appears delusional, Ram,” says Zero.
“From shock, retrieving and relocating on targeted evac.”
I unhook the ammo pack on my back and drop it, and grab two metal straps and turn Pi to the side. I connect the two straps around four hook holes on his back armor, and turn around pulling on the levers on my front shoulder plates. The straps tighten, bringing Pi up against my back like a piggy-back ride
A Herculean pops out of the smoke into the trench, and tears apart at a nearby marine too slow to fire. It spots me next. “Zero.” I target the Herculean with my visor, so she can get an accurate trajectory.
The Herculean’s upper torso explodes as I finish saying her name, and it flies against the side of the trench. “Herc down,” she says.
I crawl out of the trench towards the second row, while firing the last of the slugs in my chamber to keep the Herculeans back.
“Now!” says Blake. Marines unhook their explosives, and pull the pins and hurl them. They land over the Herculean shields that are up against the first trench we are pulling out of. The last of the marines barrel out of the first trench, but many of them are shot down to only slide back in. The marines hit the earth and hide themselves with camouflage cloaks, mimicking the snowfall and scorched earth while I move to the LZ. Most of the Herculean shields fall over as some aliens are flung into the air from the explosions. The phosphorus burns many of them alive and creates a smoke screen for the rest of us to reorganize under.
“Again!” says Blake. The marines unclip their last grenades and pull the pins, tossing them over the trench at the scrambling Herculeans. During the time they hurl the grenades, the Herculeans exchange a wave of fire at us. I feel a burning sensation on my lower torso. Pi screams. I look at my screen. Pi has received a plasma hit to his thigh, and it ate through his armor hitting mine too.
“Zero, I require assistance.”
“Bird is almost here Ram. On my way as well.”
I see an Osprey break through the overcast. A screeching noise also erupts throughout the battlefield. Cruise missiles pierce through the snowy clouds, their exhaust tails lingering in the air as they pound into the earth around the Herculeans, adding fiery yellow and orange to the white landscape. Many are also danger close and take out friendly marines as they explode on our side of the trench. The outlines of armored vehicles and APC’s appear through the snow moving towards me, their turrets firing rounds at the retreating Herculeans.
The bird arrives hovering above, and I unhook Pi. A rope is lowered and I strap him in place. I grab his target finder as it can be useful for latter. “Good fight Pi, get some rest.” He ascends into the air through the snowfall, dangling about on the rope.
“Ram, Zero,” bleeps my earpiece. It is our leading officer. “Nice work on the line. You are to locate Major General Jack and assist him on your next detail. Command out.”
A blue diamond appears on my visor indicating where the commander is. I reach him and see Jack talking to any remaining officers and NCO’s. “Something is not fucking right,” says Jack, scowling. “Those shields should have been fine. I think it was self-inflicted sabotage from someone in the battalion, maybe a rebel sympathizer. Also, I didn’t get any word of the assault till minutes ago.”
“Are we getting reinforcements now, sir?” says Blake, while a medic begins putting bandages and cream around one of his wounds.
“This place will. But I have other news. We are moving out ASAP. A Coalition salient force is surrounded by Herculeans further north, and my battalion is being organized to aid them.”
“But our battalion is barely half strong, sir,” says Blake.
“I am aware of that.” Jack raises a cowl over his face to keep the wind and snow out. “Like I said, something isn’t right.”
He turns to me. “Goddamn, are you the fucking commandos I was told about?”
Zero stands by my side, unloading her sniper rifle and folding its stock. “Yes sir.”
“Shit just keeps getting stranger,” he says.
The convoy is loaded with the marines from the recent battle as we prepare to move out. Cruise missiles continue to rip through the clouds at distant targets. I wrap a gauze strip tightly over my punctured armor, where Zero clamps a thin metal sheet over it, and welds it into the armor with a plasma torch.
“To bad Pi is going to miss out on our next mission,” she mentions, I catch an undertone of playfulness in it. “It’s getting fun out here.”
I feel my cheeks stretch into a grin. “More killing for us.”
XXIX
We move with Blake—the new Platoon commander after being promoted to First Lieutenant—farther north past the Kuplar region to relieve a surrounded Coalition detachment.
We enter a frozen landscape as we go deeper north, away from the thick padding snowy terrain of the earlier battle into a temperate like forest entirely glazed over with white frost and ice. The shrubbery and bushes have died and retreated into the rock hard frozen tundra, while tall barren trees shoot up into the sky ending in a spider web busts at the top, interconnecting with their neighbors occasionally. Once in a while a loud repetitive sound will put everyone on alert. We finally discover what the noise is when a tall white tree snaps at its base
and falls into the middle of the convoy. The tree crashes against the ground and unfortunate APC, shattering into a thousand shards that go flying. Marines scream as they pluck the frozen shrapnel out of their skin.
Marines on the trip start to complain about their fate as they remain sober for longer periods. They act scared about what they could face out here as we trek through the frozen forests. God, what is wrong with them? I can’t wait to be able to fight more Herculeans, and any rebel bastards that want to hinder the Cause.
On the morning of the second day, far out from the frontline and shield domes, Jack is told to return with all of his higher officers. Only Blake and a few other platoon leaders remain to lead the forces. Jack reassures everyone he will return shortly before we engage any enemies. A native auxiliary force of allied locals leads the convoy through the forest now.
As it hits evening the convoy is halted. After a while of no word why, Blake in frustration leaves our carrier to reach the natives up front. On his way there all the natives break for the trees, and a horn bellows out followed by more throughout the forest on either side of the convoy. The armored vehicles and carriers in the front explode into fiery balls of metal and human that are hurled against the white snow and falling trees.
“Contact!” says Conal from the carrier behind me. “It’s a fucking ambush!”
Finally a new fight! Let’s see what he can do before we snuff him.
My carrier is hit by a rocket, blowing apart the front and taking out most of the unit I was riding with. Marines hop out of the carriers to find cover farther down the convoy line. Rebel fire breaks out along the tree lines on both sides mowing marines down. I place the LMG eagerly against a port and fire at advancing rebels. More explosions erupt throughout the tree line as additional waves of rebels charge the convoy. “Focus on—” a sharp pain engulfs my entire body as I am thrown out of the carrier. I can’t move. The visor blinks off and on and the armor is frozen in place.
“The fucking Herc’s are here too!” says a marine.
I see more blue orbs falling, the ones the Herculeans used in the last battle.
Shit! They got more of those? They immobilized him.
“Someone come here!”
More Herculean ordinance strikes the convoy and rebel positions in the forest.
I see a marine dragging a fellow man nearby. “Vance, come on Vance, hold in there,” he says.
I call out to him, “Over here brother!”
He pauses by me. “What happened?” he looks terrified. I’ll never understand how these stims seem to work so poorly on them.
“I am stuck marine, get me out of this armor! There is an emergency release lever on the rear of my neck.”
He comes over and pushes me to the side. A burst of bullets pepper the ground around us. The marine that was being dragged flops about, then lies still as his blood reddens the snow around him.
“Oh god! No, fuck!” says the marine helping me. He rolls over grabbing him by the head. “Vance! Vance!”
Goddamn it! Finish getting him out of here.
“He is dead! Now get me out so we can avenge him!”
He turns back to me, his face a mess of tears and snow, and pulls on the lever. “We are retreating man, Jack’s orders. He gave us NT, it’s a lost fight. We got to go!”
Retreat? Where is a Commissar when you need them?
My armor releases, and I push it aside as I rise freeing myself. I take my interior helmet off as it has been damaged by the explosion and fall. I glance at the marine, “Coward.” I spot a carrier, with an HMG on the top probing out just calling for me to use it.
“Peter!” the marine yells at me as I move towards the carrier.
I pause. What?
No! You are Ram, strong hero of the Cause. Back to fighting!
He grabs and turns me around. “Oh my god! It’s fucking you!” he says. “You’ve got the birthmark and everything! I thought they killed you! Let’s go!”
My head hurts. Who is that? Stop! I push him away and move for the carrier.
He grabs me again. “It’s me Peter, Isaac! Your fucking roommate!”
Shove him off, and crawl up the carrier!
I get up onto the carrier and place my hands on the HMG.
The marine cries at me from down on the blood soaked snow. “Come on Peter. We got to leave! We’re supposed to look out for each other! I’m sorry Peter! Come on!”
Ignore him. They are cowards to not fight to their dying breath. He continues to beg. Pathetic this regiment is, just a bunch of losers and failures, that would rather run and hide than confront the enemies of the Coalition.
I feel pressure on my vest cuff. The marine is pulling hard on it.
“Let go!” I say.
He pulls harder. I look over; he’s placed his feet against the side of the armored carrier for support. “Let go or I’ll kill you!” I’m now bending backwards over the edge with my arms flailing above for balance.
“Peter I am sorry! I am sorry I didn’t show I still cared when they beat you! Please come with me, we got to leave!”
There is a sharp pain on my lower neck followed by a snap and I fall backwards—and I swear I could hear another person’s voice inside my head screaming.
“Peter, go!” says Mom. Creon starts calling from his room upstairs.
“What’s wrong? Is Snap okay?”
“Peter, now! Check on Creon!”
I run upstairs. I tell Creon Mom just broke a plate so he can calm down, then run to my room that overlooks the roof of the front porch. I creak open my window and crawl out. The moonlight shines onto the shingles showing me where to step. My pajama bottoms get caught on a loose shingle. I pull on my legging with palm trees so I can reach the edge faster. Below me is dad caring Snap in his arms, his wheat colored fur covered in red.
“Is he alive?” says Mom.
Dad shakes his head. “That damn owl got it. This is horrible. He was only a puppy. Supposed to grow up with Peter, teach him death at an older age when he was ready for it.”
He lowers Snap by the doorstep and Mom kneels over him. “How are we going to tell him?”
There is a screech behind me. I stumble. I look back as I fall off the roof. Above me is the black owl—it killed him! I fall without any power to change my course, uselessly against the ground. Powerless to bring Snap back.
“Call the ambulance!” says Dad.
I lie motionless on the stone pathway up to the door. Dad stands over me feeling my body, trying to ask me where it hurts, but I feel all numb, like I am not inside myself anymore. Right by my side is Snap, and I do feel his fur against me, something warm gushes onto my chest. The black owl screeches in the night. “Snap,” I gasp weakly, crying.
Then his fur is cold.
Isaac screams. Everything changes.
Time is slow as I fall upside down towards the snow. And I feel useless, powerless as I descend. I watch the ambushing rebels slaughter helpless marines as they try to flee towards the sound of reinforcing choppers. I watch as they fall to the ground into fits of bloody deaths under bullet fire. I watch the rebels as they come up to their bodies and shoot away at them even though they are already dead. Injured marines raise their hands begging as other hands cut them apart with knifes and swords. Others shove their barrels into their bodies and fire away, exploding flesh out their exit cavities. The complete terror on their faces as they crawl away and are gunned down. Like the terror of the faces when I gunned down the innocents at Khaf’Jadeed.
War is a cycle of fear and ignorance.
I remember the guilt, the pain, the sorrow and self-hatred I have for myself. Of once being an actual human being. I remember it all as I crash against the snow with Isaac. The world in all its ugly and evil fully revealed and before me—invading—I am forced to accept it.
I get up to my knees. The pain is horrible in my neck. I place my hand to the rear of it, and discover my drug distributor i
s dangling freely about from its cord that is inserted into my spine. “Isaac, I remember!”
He looks at me in agony and confusion. “I can’t stand! Help! Get us out of here!”
His right foot has been blown apart and the shin badly gored. “Hold on.” I grab snow and rub it against his foot while wrapping a bandage around it. Oh shit, Zero. I drag Isaac to the rear of the carrier. I hear a distinct crack of the rifle she uses. I crawl out and quickly grab the target finder, and see her running my direction away from the front of the ambush.
“God!” Isaac cradles his shredded foot. “Get us out of here man!”
Helicopters appear, zipping about firing missiles at the tree lines.
Maybe.
I peek out and aim the target finder at Zero. She pauses taking a quick shot that zips pass by my hands and knocks down a marine behind me. She then kneels to aim better. I pull the trigger and a spherical beacon flies out near her.
A barrage of missiles fired by a nearby Kiowa little bird redirects itself towards the beacon, and smacks against the snow around her into a bright explosion.
I drop the target finder and pick Isaac up, placing him onto my shoulders, and move for the landing choppers. Blue streaks of Herculean missile fire come crashing down against the convoy. Chunks of trees disintegrate and fly apart into burnt branches and splinters as vehicles and humans are ripped apart.
“I remember everything Isaac! You’re my brother!”
He is weeping deliriously now. “I’m sorry Peter. I left you when you needed me—” he screams.
“Isaac!” We are getting closer to the rescue helicopters. Jets zoom over the frozen forest firing back at Herculean vessels and rebel locations. Hellfire missiles explode against the front of the convoy from descending gunships. I buckle under Isaac’s weight as my leg gives out. I roll off to the side behind a demolished carrier. Isaac is left out in the open. I look over at my thigh—fuck—it’s been hit. I move out for Isaac, but snow flies up around me along shrapnel shards that cut my arms. I retreat back.
Travesty (SolarSide Book 1) Page 30