by Alan Black
Ryte said, “Well, I’ll be damned. Dehydrated marine.”
Stone thought the woman sounded cold, but Tuttle grinned. “They are working on a model where all they have to do is add water to rehydrate. Marines aren’t expected to have long expiration dates anyway. Okay, marines. Quit your lollygagging around. First man on his feet gets a blowjob from me.” She grinned at Numos. “At least, I'll live life fully, no matter the length of it.”
The wounded marines grunted and with various levels of groans, worked their way to their feet. They made their way north to meet up with the other marines searching for survivors and those not so lucky. Two of the marines, stopped, opened their bags and started picking up pieces of human bodies scattered around the parade ground. They put the pieces in the bags, not worrying about what part went with who, while gathering up any personal effects and identification they could find. If they could possibly help it, the marines wouldn’t leave anyone behind, alive or dead, when they bugged out.
Numos nodded at Stone. “Ensign, one mile south?”
Stone shrugged. “It’s as good a direction as any. Hyrocanians coming from the north means I want to go the other way. Should we move en masse, sir?”
Numos answered, “No. I think those who can go now should get out now. Corporal Tuttle, can you get your suit?”
Tuttle pointed at the south barracks. “I was Charlie Squad, Major.”
“Get suited up, Corporal. I will keep an eye on our commander until you get back. Grab—” He looked around and pointed at another marine. “Grab her and get suited up. Then find Ensign Stone. You cover his ass like it’s gold.”
Tuttle didn’t respond, turning to sprint across the compound. The other marine must have gotten the orders through an earbud because she stopped what she was doing and raced after Tuttle.
Ryte chuckled. “It’s such a nice ass, too, Ensign Stone. I might watch it myself.” Stone started to reply, but she stopped him. “Gentlemen, I do think the Hyrocanians are homing in on our electronics. Whether they can tap into them to gather intelligence or just triangulate on the signals, we should limit our communications.”
Numos looked at Stone. He shrugged back. “It couldn’t hurt.”
Numos shouted, “Silent running! Silent running! Silent running!” The call was taken up across the compound, passed voice to voice. Marines in combat suits shimmered and disappeared, their camouflage hiding them from all spectrums: visible, invisible, and electronic.
Lieutenant Hammermill raced up to them. “Sir. I mean, Ensign Stone. Z-99 protocol has commenced. One hour as specified. Fifty-seven minutes remaining on the countdown.”
Numos said, “I don’t think we have fifty-seven minutes. Hyrocanian technology is slow and mostly stolen from other species, but even we couldn’t move troops from the back of the planet to here at the rate of those missiles. Still, if they left at the same time as the missiles, they could be here in next to no time. Hammer, get all marines from your platoon suited up asap. Charlie Platoon is the least damaged.”
Hammermill pointed at the smoldering rim of the compound. There was barely half a circle left of the enclosed ring. “Sir, Delta Platoon was on watch. Their shuttle should have been on CAP duty. It must have been caught in the initial blast. Those are my people on deck now. The other half is looking for survivors. We can be suited in ten.” He shouted at a marine sergeant, made a few hand gestures and the man began gathering marines, sending them to Charlie’s barracks to get suited. “We can find survivors quicker in suits anyway.”
Ryte commanded, “No electronic searches.”
Hammermill ignored her until Numos nodded. “Passive scans only, but dig those people out quick. Then, on the bounce, get your platoon north, suited marines only. It’s your job to interdict incoming hostiles. Stop them if you can, but slow them down enough that we can escort the civilians south. Do not allow yourself to be taken prisoner. Sorry, Hammer. It is a shit job, but—”
They finished together “—somebody has to do it.”
Numos said, “Once the compound blows, disengage and work your way to our collection point one mile south. I don’t think the Hyrocanians will give us enough time. We can only hope.”
Hammermill handed Numos a small black bag. “This is Second Lieutenant Heller, sir. What we could identity of him anyway. Take him home, sir.”
Numos said quietly, “Ooo-rah.”
Hammermill sprinted towards Charlie’s barracks to get suited.
Ryte asked, “Fifty minutes?”
Numos said, “Forty-six minutes now, and this whole area will be a smoking pit, deeper and more useless than the missile crater. Anyone left behind, wounded or just trapped will be with whatever gods will have them.”
Stone felt useless. Orders were flying around him, but he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to appear useless, he was supposed to be in command, yet Numos had everyone jumping. Allie looked at him, concern evident even with only one good eye. Finally, she grabbed a can of liquid bandage and a can of coagulant and began poking and prodding him. Without so much as a by-your-leave-sir, she stripped him to the waist and began spraying various parts of his body he hadn’t known were leaking until she bandaged them.
Allie said, “We need to get a doctor to check on Governor Stone as soon as we can, Major. He has been bleeding from both ears and may have suffered a serious concussion or head injury.” She emphasized the title “governor”.
Stone pointed back across the compound to the smoking remains of the conference room. “Doc Menendez is in there with Master Chief Thomas giving aid to Lieutenant Commander Butcher. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but it must be something his navy nanites can’t fix.”
Stone saw two marines in combat suits wildly digging into a jumbled pile of rubble on what had been the second story across the compound. With a flurry of flying metal and a fury of frantic urgency, they dragged a civilian from the pile. One marine grabbed the scientist, jumped to the ground, dropped her to her feet, and jumped back to begin digging deeper.
THIRTEEN
Stone said, “We need to get the civilians moving south right now. Some of these wounded will take time to move even a short distance.”
Tuttle and another marine bounced up to the small knot of people. Their enhanced combat suits allowed them to jump across the distance in a single bound. The size of their suits dwarfed everyone except Jay and Peebee. The two marines shimmered and disappeared as their suits shut down all external trace. Their faces appeared to hover in the air as their faceplates popped open.
Stone said, “I need to get my suit, but—” He realized it would be a miracle if his suit survived. It was in a charging rack in Alpha Platoon’s suit storage bay, a part of the compound relatively flat, as it had been right on the edge of the missile crater.
He’d survived in the wilds of Allie’s World once only because he had a working shuttle to hide in at night. Going outside anywhere was bad enough to give him the shivers and make him nauseous. Walking around on this untamed world was suicide. He wanted to have some protection, even if all he had was an ill-fitting navy combat suit.
Allie hooked a thumb in the direction of where Baker Platoon’s shuttle bay had been. The building ended in a flattened pile of rubble. The missile had vaporized half of the shuttle bay and the blast force crushed the other half. “My suit is gone. Yours is too.” She grabbed his communication unit, as she slid his uniform top back up, covering his torso again. She tapped a short command and it beeped twice, flashing red once. “See? Your comms say your suit is non-responsive and non-functioning.”
Stone couldn’t control the look of surprise on his face. He hadn’t known he could check on his suit without actually going to look at it. He wondered if he’d slept through the class at the academy or if no one had mentioned it to him before. “Well, if we can locate a suit that is, um—unattached, I want it. I mean, I don’t want to take someone’s suit away.”
Numos shook his head. “Most navy suits were
in Alpha and Baker’s hangars. My command review status spreadsheet shows we won’t pull any functional suits out of those hangars. Medical command had their suits in Delta’s hangar, so they are completely gone. The civilians claimed they hadn’t needed to bring any heavy protective gear, so they didn’t have any to lose.”
Stone grimaced, “Well, I guess I’m humping it on foot. Let’s get people moving, shall we? Major Numos, would you take charge of the evacuation, please?” He sounded much calmer than he felt. Being outside without some protection was going to be bad, but with Numos taking charge, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about leaving anyone behind.
Allie pointed at Tuttle and the other marine. She said, “You two are now assigned to Baker Platoon. Carry Ensign Stone to the collection point. Keep him safe and keep an eye on him. Get him out of the blast zone.”
Stone said, “Wait. No. Corporal Tuttle, please go over there.” He wagged a finger in the general direction of where his conference room had been. Please get Lieutenant Commander Butcher and carry him south. One mile. Take Doctor Menendez with you, if you can.”
Numos nodded. “Yes, sir. All suited marines not with Hammer’s Charlie Platoon are to carry wounded to our next gathering point. Corporal, secure a protective detail for any civilians at our collection point. Do it fast and come back for more.” A suited marine could move a mile a minute. It will be a rough ride for seriously wounded people, so they may only be able to make a few trips.
Stone said, “I don’t want to be outside. But, if my options are that or being taken captive by Hyrocanians, then I’m going to take my chances with the wildlife of Allie’s World. But, I don’t even have a knife with me. Allie, can you find us weapons before we move out?”
Nodding, she said, “We can strip out Charlie Platoon’s armory on our way out the back door, sir.”
Stone said, “One thing before we go. Can we get Hammer to slow the Hyrocanians enough for us to get clear, and then let them slip past him in time to capture the deserted compound in say, forty-five minutes from now?”
FOURTEEN
Stone kept looking behind him when he wasn’t looking at the sky overhead, the jungle around them, or the command projection he had locked into place in his two o‘clock position. He had the same aversion to someone micromanaging his daily chores as any human, so he tried hard not to step on anyone’s toes. There were too many things happening at once and he wasn’t where anything was happening.
He tripped—again. Allie, who seemed to be all over the group all at the same time, grabbed him by his collar to keep him upright. He expected her to say something but after glancing at his dataport view, she moved off.
He had his dataport set to show Numos and Hammermill’s images from the compound. He could switch his view to any camera in the compound or to any suited marine, but unlike many navy combat missions, marine officers tended to be at the center of where the action was the thickest, so he continued to ride along on their shoulders.
The security risk was minimal in picking up the video feed. The Hyrocanians might be able to trace the signal if they could find it. However, Allie said the receive only signal was so weak, she doubted the Hyrocanians could even scan it. More than likely, if the aliens did pick up the signal, it would be from the broadcast end in the compound, from Numos or Hammermill. Since the four-armed freaks knew where the compound was and Numos was still in the compound, there wasn’t much of a security risk in tapping into his signal. Lieutenant Hammermill was a mile north of the compound setting up a line of defense against any possible ground invasion. They weren’t planning on setting up an ambush, so their location wasn’t a secret. Unless the Hyrocanians were dumber than humans gave them credit for, they would know a defensive force waited for them. Even the dumbest of enemies would know they hadn’t completely destroyed the compound. A smart enemy would only disable the compound and then swoop in to capture prisoners for interrogation. Stone needed Charlie Platoon to delay the enemy long enough so they arrived at the abandoned compound just about the time the self-destruct went off.
He scanned the compound feeds, rolling from camera to camera. It hadn’t taken long to untag nonfunctioning feeds as more cameras were damaged from the missile attack than were working. He spotted Major Numos near the back door. Stone watched as the man performed a quick scan of the area. Apparently satisfied all of the living were gone and they’d retrieved as much of the dead’s remains as possible, he came to attention, saluted the field and stepped through Charlie’s back door, stopping to seal it shut behind him. Although Numos shouted at the three marines with him to run, they took up defensive positions around him as he ran a quick weld around the door.
Stone nodded at the weld. Anything to delay the Hyrocanians inside the compound was a good idea. What was a bad idea was Numos and his three marines were delaying their departure too long. They would have to run hard to get out of the blast zone.
Stone allowed the compound’s feeds to continue, but shut off the feed from Numos. Since the Major had finished the weld and left the compound—first place the Hyrocanians would look for prisoners—Stone wouldn’t take the slightest chance of tagging onto the Major’s feed that might give his position away.
He nimbly stepped around a downed tree trunk and tripped over a rock. Allie wasn’t there to catch him this time, yet he managed to keep his feet. He tried not to look up, but he did. Covering up his shiver at all of the open sky above him with his stumble, he yanked his eyes back down. The walls of the jungle weren’t much different from the walls of a corridor. Sure, he couldn’t see as far as usual, but he had been in many hydroponic gardens on space stations that gave the impression of forest depth. The ground, while rough and uneven, might be thought of as a lumpy deck floor. He could deal with uneven flooring. What he couldn’t look at without causing each sphincter muscle in his body to alternately tighten and loosen was all that clear sky overhead.
He walked at the front of his group, trying not to move faster than the slowest person. He finally assigned MCPO Thomas to ride herd on the civilian scientists whose tendency was to slow to a stop. Some were in a state of shock at the sudden death and destruction, stopping in stunned silence. Some were wounded, claiming a need to rest for injuries only to their legs, arms, or heads. The Emperor would have ensured each of them received the best civilian medical nanites available for planetary exploration. Those implants wouldn’t be as robust as their military cousins, but should keep a person up and moving until they could receive proper medical attention. Up and moving was as much mental strength as it was physical capability. Other scientists wanted to stop and gawk at each new plant, animal track, or rock outcropping they came to, like they’d already forgotten about the ruined compound and the dead, the minute the base was out of sight.
Stone couldn’t forget the compound. Damaged or not, it was inside. Even the parade ground had provided some comfort with a partial wall to protect him from all of the flora and fauna of Allie’s World. He’d only vomited once since exiting the compound from Charlie’s back door. Allie had expressed concern about him being nauseous because of his head injury. He let her continue thinking that, since it made him sound more heroic than tossing his cookies because he was scared spitless at being outside.
He looked behind him again. Damn! Dr. Triplett had stopped to paw through a pile of animal spoor. She ignored Thomas’s attempts to chivvy her on. Her sneer and snarl at the master chief was already a common occurrence. She made no efforts to hide her animosity toward anyone or anything military. Everyone had heard her opinion that this planetary exploration should be in civilian—educated civilian—hands. Her expressed belief was that even having a military brought war to the empire’s doorsteps. She’d been heard more than once stating how humans had yet to even try negotiating with the Hyrocanians and that the military was anathema to diplomacy. Stone had had to look up the word anathema.
The few medical people in this group were part of the military though their corps wasn’t as strict
on military protocol as the navy or marines. They were moving along quite nicely, being unburdened by any great excess of medical supplies. They carried what they could, but there had been little to find and even less time to find it.
He carried a familiar TDO-960A. He had used it against Hyrocanians before, back at the unfortunate incident at Point Alpha-Beta, but then it was a combat suit attachment with an almost unlimited supply of ammunition. This version was handheld and much heavier than he remembered. Each clip had a hundred cartridges and he had a dozen clips in his backpack. Clips weren’t heavy, in spite of that, twelve extra clips added up to more weight than he was used to carrying and seemed to get heavier with each step.
Everyone was burdened, either with supplies or with their own wounds. Despite her head wound, Allie was carrying four times the weight Stone was and she didn’t appear to notice the added weight at all. She didn’t carry a rifle, but did have a handgun holstered at her side. His rifle was useless against the local flora, but Allie’s three-feet-long machete could hack apart any tangles Jay and Peebee missed as they crashed through the brush ahead of them with wild abandonment. Their thick hide pushed back thorns, spikes, hooks, and needles, opening a path for him and his gaggle of followers.
He wanted to spread out so they wouldn’t create an easy path for the Hyrocanians to follow, but the thick underbrush in this part of the forest didn’t cooperate. They were bunched together to avoid being shredded by the reddish-green plants.
A whisper of wind caused him to duck and aim his rifle upward. He was too late to shoot, even if there had been a valid reason. A suited marine vaulted over his group, rushing south away from the compound carrying a wounded marine to their collection point.