I took another shot from the AED and felt my eyes flicker open. Inches above my chest, a doctor held a needle that looked like a railroad spike. He plunged it down into my heart, and I felt pain like I didn’t know existed. I wanted to cry out, but my muscles refused to respond. The adrenaline burned its way through my arteries and the pain intensified. My body began to shake from the sudden infusion. A fire ignited deep within, and I felt as if I could take on the world. More pain arose from my extremities, and I thought for a moment that this must be hell, that I had finally fallen in battle and was on my way home.
A second – or perhaps a year – later, the pain subsided as my heart stabilized. I had no remaining concept of time. I realized, to my amazement, that I was still alive and back in a medical bay. I could feel the presence of multiple physicians all around me, doing what God only knew. With that revelation and along with the fact that my heart was again safely beating, I drifted back to sleep despite the continuing pain of all the procedures currently underway.
The first time I opened my eyes, I was in a dimly lit recovery room. Intense pain shot through my body as I tried to shift my weight. I could still see and feel the needle being driven into my heart. I attempted to rub the bandaged area on my chest but saw my movement was constricted by multiple cords attached to my arms. Glancing about, I saw I was alone in the room with bandages covering most of my observable body. I was hooked up to multiple monitors but was breathing on my own. There was a call button in my left hand, which I pressed immediately.
Moments later, two doctors entered along with a man wearing the Space Corps’ dress uniform. From his badges I could tell he was the ship’s commanding officer. He stopped short and waited for the doctors. Mere moments passed with the commander staring in simple bewilderment while the doctors whispered to each other. He finally stepped closer and looked me in the eyes.
“Is your name Specialist Jefferson Grant?” he asked. Rather than risk coughing up blood on him, I simply nodded. He paused. “Do you realize that you are the only survivor of the entire mission?”
It hit me like the shot to the chest. It hurt, but I wasn’t surprised. He continued. “According to our logs, it was you who orchestrated the destruction of the station, the taking of the planet, and the disruption of the planet’s entire surface army, accompanying fleet, and defensive garrisons.” I still remained silent. “Because of your selfless actions, we have been able to create a foothold on the ground and bring the first planet in this system under Federal control.”
“What do you want me to do next?” I mumbled.
He briefly chuckled at the broken soldier before him. I could only imagine the train of thought behind his face. “There’ll be a time for that. First things first, you need to heal up.” The commander glanced at the doctors.
“When you were recovered from the surface,” one doctor stated, reading from a clipboard, “you had multiple second- and third-degree burns covering over 25 percent of your body. You had two broken fingers, several lacerations to your midsection that narrowly missed major arteries, two broken ribs, a concussion, and a dislocated shoulder. Oh, and your heart had stopped for about four minutes. You narrowly avoided massive brain damage. If our medics had arrived even a few minutes later, you would have been dead along with the rest of the battalion.”
“Swell.” I managed a smile out of the corner of my mouth. I looked back at the Commander. “Sir, why are you here?”
“Sergeant Grant, I’m Admiral Heddings. I’m the Admiral of the fleet, and have been in command of our operations in the war for the last fourteen months.”
“What brings you out to see me? I don’t think I’m that important.”
The admiral stepped closer. “General Raley heard of your success several days ago when you were first retrieved, but unfortunately, he is still cleaning up Sol Bravo. He asked that I personally brief you on your next assignment. I have to tell you, we had a brief disagreement on where we wanted you next.”
“Can you enlighten me?” I asked, still trying to put the pieces together in what was left of my discombobulated brain.
“Following your actions over the last few weeks, we have granted you a waiver for officer’s training and a field promotion to captain.” Heddings looked into my eyes and followed their movement. “General Raley needs your expertise in the enemy’s tactics for the next assault. We are currently planning a follow-up invasion on another equally isolated world on the far end of Charlie. We currently have three battalion commanders working on the details, but you would be a great asset.”
“Do I have any choice in this?”
“Not so much. I forwarded details of your accolades to the civilian leadership on earth, but they are slow to react to anything. If you hang around here another week or two, they might grant you a pass back home.”
“To hell with that,” I choked out, trying to pull myself to a seated position. “I don’t have a reason to go back. I lost it all in Earth Strike.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. You have my condolences.”
The pain from my injuries throbbed, but it wasn’t close to comparing to the burning fire for revenge I felt building within. “Don’t worry. I’m here to fight.”
“Good to know,” he replied, turning back to the doctors. “How long before you can get him walking?”
“With some attention, no more than a day or two.”
“Excellent,” he said as he looked back and forth between us all. “When you’re ready to get out of Medical, let me know and I’ll assemble the rest of the commanders.”
Heddings made a turn toward the exit. “I’ll inform General Raley of your progress and decision. I’m sure he’ll be pleased.”
I slept for much of the next day, but by the following evening I was back up and walking. The medic had done his job well, much to my surprise as well as his. When he finally returned to my room, I was pacing about the room, checking for anything causing pain. The cuts in my stomach were mostly healed. My shoulder was back in place and the bones in my fingers were once again properly fused. So far everything worked.
Opening the door, the doctor spoke. “Waiting on me?”
“You’d better believe it,” I answered while going from my toes to a low crouch. Still no pain.
“Where’s my armor? I’m tired of wearing this freaking potato sack.” I asked, gesturing at the hospital gown I had been stuck in for the past few days.
“It’s been repaired and is now being kept down in the armory, level two, section D. I’ll have one of the guards bring it up for you.”
“When am I meeting the admiral?”
“He didn’t ask for a time. He just wanted you on the bridge as soon as you could get there.”
I didn’t want to keep Heddings waiting on me. “In that case, I’ll go down and get my armor myself.”
The doctor was speechless and didn’t make a single motion to stop me as I strode back out the double doors and down toward the armory’s main entrance.
I must have been a sight walking up to the armorer’s service window wearing nothing but the hospital scrubs. The soldier on the other side gave me a quizzical look, but didn’t seem too phased.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for my combat armor. I was told it was serviced here.”
“Yes,” the soldier replied. “Are you Sergeant J. Grant?” I nodded. “Good. Then, yes, you’re right. We’ve got it ready for you. Come on in.”
He hit a button beside the window which unlocked the magnetic seal on the door to his left.
“To be honest,” the soldier started as he led the way past numerous racks of weapons and equipment, “I didn’t expect you to be up and around this soon, but don’t worry, we’ve got all your equipment ready to go.”
“Excellent. And you’re right, I’ve got to hand it to the docs; they’re some real miracle workers.”
We made it to the end of the row, where a massive stainless steel table waited. On it was my entire unifor
m, laid out with military precision. All the burns were gone from the chest plates, and all but the deepest scars had been filled. No grime remained on my boots; every crevice was clear and the entire surface shined like a mirror. I picked up the helmet and looked it over.
The armorer read from a serviceability document on a clipboard. “Nearly every gasket and seal was replaced. All blood and stains were removed, and every surface was sanitized. The main view screen and visor on the helmet were broken, so both were replaced. Weapons were recovered and serviced in accordance with standard procedure.”
My rifle was to the right, resting upright between the integrated bipod and stock. Beside it lay one of the axes I recovered from the aliens. I picked it up, turning it about in my hands, letting the light reflect off the flawless surface.
He flipped a page. “The axe’s body was brushed clean and inspected for damage. The leading edges were found to be flawless, so no sharpening was attempted.”
“There’s only one?” I asked him.
“Yes, sir. According to the record, only one was found.”
“Dammit, there were two. And I’ll just assume my pistols are a lost cause.” Even considering the missing items, I was quietly impressed with the work they performed, but retained my resolve.
“Then that should do it,” I stated and quickly switched wardrobes. Everything went back in its proper place, and I felt like I was back in control. The ammo magazines came last, and I filled the vacant slots on my belt with a standard loadout.
With everything squared away, I left the armory and returned to the command bridge in the hope of finding Admiral Heddings with a spare minute for me. When I entered the room, I immediately caught a glance from him as he looked up from a map of the system.
“Captain Grant, it’s good to see you’re back and ready for action. The medical staff had alerted me to your progress."
“Sir, what can I do for you?” I asked
Heddings straightened back up and thought for a second. “Well, first of all, I’d like your assessment of the previous mission with which you were attached. I’ve gotten to hear accounts from several perspectives, but so far from no one who was actually on the ground for the duration of the engagement.”
“Yes, sir, because I’m the only one left.”
“Indeed.” He looked back between the other officers surrounding him. “Things are under control here. Why don’t we take a walk and you can give me your report.”
We took a quick walk back to the admiral’s office and spent some time seated in a pair of command chairs. The wall beside us was glass and overlooked more than half the radial expanse of the ship and offered a crystal clear view of space beyond. It was in that room that over the several hours which followed, I detailed the events as I remembered them unfolding. Heddings nodded slightly in agreement on occasion, but rarely spoke up or interrupted. Mostly he just listened to me explain my way through the campaign, stopping me only occasionally for clarifications. By the time I reached the end, I was nearly sick to my stomach, and the veteran soldier could plainly tell.
“Captain, I realize how terrible this must be for you. However, God did not idly keep you alive in this world. I believe you still have a great part to play in this war. The next battle waits.” He stood to lead the way out.
“Before that,” I said, waving my hand and motioning for him to come back to my side, “I want to go back to where you found me on the surface of Ash.”
“I, I don’t think that would be a wise decision. The planet is not yet completely under our control. Half of the surface is still infested with the aliens. Plus, they have yet to clean up any of the battlefields.”
Bile rose in my throat. “Forget the freaks. Give me a transport; I’ll take care of that myself.” Admiral Heddings’ eyes widened. “I’ve got to see this through to the end.”
“Two thousand of our men met their deaths on the hill before the bunker. Five times more of the enemy fell there as well. I don’t know if you’re up to the task.”
“Sir, I’m not open to negotiations. Give me this. The least I can do is say goodbye to them. I don’t want them to be forgotten, and I don’t want to forget what I’m doing here.”
“If you insist. I’ll arrange a shuttle for the morning.”
“No. Now.” I met his gaze. It was again wrought with surprise. He didn’t protest, but instead checked the schedule on the terminal beside him.
“The crew members of shuttle number 705 are idle. I’ll give you full command of the ship. Don’t take long. Find me when you return.”
8
It only took thirty minutes for the transport ship to be ready to launch. By the time I made it to the landing bay, the crew had already ignited the engines. A few men were running about checking various points on the ship’s exterior, and the pilot was waiting by the main entrance ramp.
“Good afternoon, Captain,” he addressed me. “The admiral told us we were to do whatever you wanted. Dare I ask what that might be?”
It was an interesting way to put it. “We’re going to make a flight over to Ash to recover some of the men who jumped with me.”
“No problem, sir, but we don’t have the supplies or manpower for a POW recovery.”
I cut him off quickly. “That’s not what this is.”
He met my stony gaze and realized what I meant. “Ah, I gotcha.”
Once we were in flight, I looked over the latest scans of the planet and got reoriented with the scene on the ground. The various sites of my engagements were clearly marked on the map, even including the area where the once-orbiting station had hit. There were not many aliens left in the vicinity, so I decided to follow my previous path of destruction one more time. Thankfully, my pilot had no problems in plotting the course and was optimistic that we’d get out without a firefight.
Our first stop was at the abandoned city near our landing site. In the distance, smoke still lifted off from the wreckage of the gunship I had taken down with the rocket. The recovery effort started fairly quickly, as most of the deceased had suffered gunshot wounds and little else. I didn’t even waste time looking for the gunship’s victims, because by this time, they wouldn’t be more than dust and ashes.
The second site, where I assaulted the weapons depot, was next. When we landed, the transport’s crew moved out to assist in the recovery and to provide security. I appreciated the help, but the task was becoming more gruesome with each corpse we came across. Every man had been torn and twisted up something terrible from close combat with the aliens. It wasn’t all bad though. As the soldiers fell, they each must have taken at least ten aliens with them, they were so numerous. Even though we kept a quick pace, the day was waning by the time the job was finished.
I was standing on the landing plank of the ship as it touched down on a bluff overlooking the mountainside. The door opened, and even I was taken aback at the remaining carnage. The sun was setting in the distance, casting a deep red glow about the battlefield. Smoke still drifted from the trenches, carrying the smell of rotting flesh to my nose. Bodies littered the ground; in areas of heavy fighting, they were packed several deep.
I wrinkled my face into a sneer, trying to bear the horrific concoction of gasses hitting my throat. I glanced across the sea of dead and felt a thousand pairs of eyes upon me. It would have been normal for someone in my position to feel pain, sadness, maybe even remorse for being the only survivor. Whatever it was, it kept the ship’s crew standing against the far wall in shock.
For me though, it was not so. Rather, I felt nothing at all. I knew it was a terrible sight and I knew I was somewhat responsible. I knew it was a large price to pay, but it didn’t shut me down mentally like it probably should have. All I felt inside was one unshakeable urge to recover them, to bring them home, as if that one infinitesimal act would be enough to keep us morally superior to the monsters we fought.
“Really, God? This is what you do to your chosen ones?” I growled to myself. A pang of sadness hit me for
but a moment. It didn’t last, and I found strength again in my anger. Sorrow turned to hatred; I clenched my fists and descended the ramp.
I had an entire shuttle bay to myself, so I began to pull the soldiers from the bloody mud and lay them in the bay. I worked all through the night by the light from my helmet. It made the whole horrific ordeal even more disconcerting. Far too often, I came across cleaved and mutilated bodies, but the worst was finding the torn faces of the men who I had accompanied in the weeks past. They were all there, the ones who saved me, led me, followed me, and eventually died for me. I nearly envied them. At least their suffering was over.
As the night wore on, I began to recover weapons as well, including a pile of the close combat weapons we had stolen from the station. I managed to find all six of my pistols and my missing axe, which was still planted in the skull of its last victim.
The job dragged on through the night and stretched into the morning. The crew of the ship eventually insisted on helping me move the bodies, and by the end of the second day, I didn’t really have the energy to complain. During the second night, we had the field cleared off and had made our way back to the trenches from the hillside.
We made a few checks from the tops of the bunker’s defensive walls, and the other crew members felt we had recovered everyone. I originally wanted to trek down into the bunker to retrieve the men who blew the plant, but there would have been nothing left of them. The entire cavern had been disintegrated and charred by the blast, leaving no hope of finding anyone alive or dead. Even the hardened bunker had collapsed upon the entrance shaft, so I called off the search.
The pilot restarted the engines of the ship and prepared us for liftoff. The crew was cleaning up. I was alone in the cargo hold with five thousand corpses and mutilated remains of the soldiers I had fought with. I sat on a low ammo crate, surveying the scene.
I shook my head. It was all such a waste. There was no reason to lose so many. Had I done things differently, I might have saved them all. We could still be fighting. One part of me felt as if I had failed them, and the other was relieved that I still lived to continue the crusade. My thoughts drifted back to home.
MissionSRX: Confessions of the First War Page 6