Scouts Out: Books One and Two

by Danny Loomis

  Ian keyed his com, and called one of the signals yeomen. “Any word when we can get outta here, Mary?” he asked.

  “We’re moving into an orbit behind the moon of Edo. Then we hope to be able to give you guys some relief.”

  “Thanks, Mary. I owe you one.” He keyed back to the squad tactical net. “Not much longer, guys. We’re heading in system now.

  * * *

  Captain Brill rubbed his face, in an effort to keep focused. God, he was tired. Another five minutes to the moon. “Any word on the Wasps, Scotty?”

  “Yes, Sir. They’ve powered down and are on a ballistic path towards Edo. I expect them to be within range for pick up six hours after we’ve achieved orbit.”

  “Something good, then. How many left?” he asked.

  Scotty lowered his head. “Nineteen survivors, Sir. The rest were knocked out of action once that big bastard joined the fight.”

  “Make sure the corvette at the nexus has complete data on that ship. This is the first time anyone’s seen it, let alone heard about it.”

  “Not one missile reached its shields,” Scotty said. “It must have dozens more defensive lasers and anti-missile pods than a dreadnought. And the way it reacted to the Wasps that attacked—it’s suicide to approach it head-on.”

  “Call from Engineering, sir,” the Signals Officer said.

  “What’s going on, Mister Bradford?” Brill asked.

  “We’re getting a magnetic flux in our stealth generator. I’m going to have to shut it down, or it’ll be too badly damaged to run at all.”

  Brill clenched his jaw. “Do so in ten seconds.” He turned to his Ops officer. “Turn off all systems except life support and passive sensors. Pass word to all hands to keep electronic emissions to a minimum.”

  “Captain, we need at least thirty seconds more burn on the engines to reach the moon, let alone the power needed to achieve a stable orbit,” said Lt. Commander Lawton.

  “Not now, Mister Lawton. We’ve got to act like a big rock and try to blend in to the background. Where is our present course headed?”

  “We’ll pass inside the moon’s orbit, and probably miss the planet by about one hundred thousand kilometers, sir.”

  Brill stared at the screen and forced his voice to sound calm. “All we can do is hope the crew of that battleship in low orbit is concentrating on the planet.”

  A tense thirty minutes passed. “Passing inside the orbit of the moon,” announced the navigator, Lieutenant Ziebrowski.

  “We’re being pinged,” Lawton said. “The battleship just came from behind Edo, and appears to be bringing its weapons on-line.”

  The Captain frowned. “Is our primary laser warmed up, Guns?”

  “Aye, Sir. Locking on target now.”

  “Do they have a fix on us?”

  “Yessir,” Lawton said.

  “We’re within spitting distance, gentlemen. Knock out its bridge, then kill the sonofabitch.”

  The weapons officer’s finger stabbed the large button on his board. “Firing now.”

  Space lit up as the 20 megajoule laser speared through the already weak shields of the battleship and boiled away laminated armor plating impacting on the bridge of the enemy ship. Both port het lasers also speared the wounded battleship, knocking out its primary lasers and missile launch capabilities.

  Within five minutes the once-proud warship was a floating pile of debris. Several dozen life pods managed to launch, and headed planetward. “Captain, we’ve picked up movement our way from the Alliance fleet,” Lawton said.

  “Notify all shuttles to launch immediately. Pick out a landing site distant enough from the Alliance planethead to give them a chance to hide. Make sure it’s a place the remainder of the Wasps can land. Load a spare shuttle with camouflage generators, and strip the ship of all personnel not necessary to fight it.”

  “Aye aye,” the Ops officer said, turning to his board.

  “Navigation, I want the fastest route away from here possible. The quicker we get everyone off-loaded, the sooner we can get away from here. Move it, people!”

  Brill turn to the screen and masked his despair with a look he hoped was one of studious calm. All he could do now was draw off the enemy long enough for his landing forces to get themselves well hidden. Hopefully they would succeed, and be able to survive until help arrived. Bleakly he watched the red dots depicting enemy ships moving towards them. Give me time, he prayed. Give us time.

  * * *

  The order to launch had been met with disbelief at first, followed by sheer terror when Ian realized he was going to have to fly the shuttle. The primary pilot hadn’t shown up. He took a deep breath, settled down long enough to go through launch procedures, and let his ten hours of simulator training on a shuttle come to the fore. He’d been pleasantly surprised when the actual launch had occurred. Most of it was automatic for the first few seconds. It was only after clearing the side of the ship he had to fly.

  “Attention all shuttles,” droned his radio, “your landing site is one hundred kilometers due north of the capitol city of Vanport. Orbit once, then begin your landing sequence. Do not come back into space without your transponders on, as we are sowing space mines in high orbit around Edo. Good luck.” As soon as the radio went dead, the York began to move away.

  Ian watched the dwindling speck until it vanished. “We’re on our own.”

  “Along with two companies of space marines and a bunch of technicians,” Brita said. “We’d better land and sort things out fast before the Alliance fleet gets back here.”

  “You’re right,” Boudreau said. “Ian, how you doing? You going to make it okay?”

  “Piece of cake,” Ian said, sweat running down his face. “Just gotta follow the book and—oh, shit! I’ve never practiced landing one of these bricks.” There was dead silence for a second.

  “Irish, so help me I’ll kill you if you crash this thing and I die,” Brita said.

  Ian felt the tension ease away amidst the general laughter. Yeah. Piece of cake.

  It seemed only minutes later when their shuttle approached the mesa picked out as their landing field. Sweeping over it, Ian noted in relief how flat it was. The western side of it raised thirty meters above the rest, with what looked like four cave openings.

  “Make a couple more circles, Ian. I want to get a lay of the land,” Boudreau ordered.

  Finally, after two more nervous trips around the mesa, Ian lined up his shuttle and began his landing run. There were two ways to land a shuttle. Bring it down in a hover, or along a runway in the traditional style of landing. He chose the latter. With a delicate touch on the controls, he lightly met the ground and taxied over to one of the openings on the west side of the mesa.

  “Keep it hot while we check it out,” Boudreau said. Ian lowered the back ramp and watched as three of his squadmates sprinted towards the opening. Seconds later they waved him on.

  As he taxied the shuttle inside the cave, Ian was impressed by its size. “Looks like we could hide a dozen shuttles in here.” He ran through the shut-down sequence on the engines. By the time he debarked, several more shuttles had entered the cavern. Warrant Officer Boudreau was in earnest conversation with one of the space marines as Ian approached.

  “Irish,” Boudreau said, breaking his conversation off with what Ian now saw to be an officer. “Get Brita and have her take the squad over to that shuttle parked against the southern wall. It’s got some camouflage generators in it. Get them set up at the mouths of the caves we’re using, will you?”

  Ian stomped back towards the shuttle, where the squad was unloading supplies. Not even a thank you, or a well done. First time soloing, and no one gives a rip. Abruptly he chuckled. Look at him. Ready to piss his pants no more than ten minutes ago, now he expected kudos for what a good thing he’d done. He stepped out more briskly. Back to what counts. Back to real soldiering.

  EDO – CONFEDERATION ENCAMPMENT (DAY +28):

  “That’s it, Irish,” B
lade said, stacking the last case of needler pistol ammunition against the back wall of the cave. He rubbed his back and straightened. “Rifle ammo to the right, pistol to the left. All of the trip flares, flash-bangs, and other toys even further to the left.”

  Ian looked around. “How about the explosives? Didn’t the Marines have a shit load of that?”

  “Yup. They put it on the far side of the mesa. Didn’t think it’d be too healthy to mix it with this stuff.”

  “Remind me to go and get some later. I want to make some booby traps, using the flash-bangs and other training material as triggers.”

  Brita appeared between them, causing Blade to flinch away. Ian heard a whisper of sound just before she appeared, so was able to check his reactions. “Irish, you and Sergeant Doyle need to attend a briefing in the next cave down. Blade, what’s up with you? Looks like you need some extra training on sneakin’ and peekin’ if you’re so jumpy.”

  “These caves give me the willies, Brita. I keep thinking someone’s watching me.” He shuddered slightly. “Never thought I was scared of tight places, but something doesn’t sit right with me and these caves.”

  “You’d better get over it, or I’ll make you permanent sergeant of the guard. That way you can be outside all the time.” She trotted off without further word.

  Ian slapped Blade on the shoulder. “Buck up. You could be having to dig a hole deeper into the back of this cave to use as an escape hatch, like Doyle’s team.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” Blade said. “I’ll make sure the other two keep busy with the inventory and fixing up our quarters. You go find Chucky and get to your briefing.”

  Minutes later Ian entered the briefing area, Sergeant Doyle in tow. Cave C-1 as it was now called was primarily for the two companies of space marines. C-2 was the cave that sheltered the LRS, Captain Stanton’s Charlie Company and six of the fifteen shuttles. They joined the small crowd gathered around a large make-shift table with a flat map on it.

  Seconds later Captain Stanton entered the cave, with his NCOs trailing. Everyone stiffened to attention.

  “At ease, everyone,” Captain Stanton said. “From now on, no saluting or coming to attention. We’re in a tactical situation, and I don’t want to be marked out as a target. That all right with you?” There were relieved nods from the marines, smiles from the LRS NCOs.

  “For those who haven’t heard yet, I’m the ranking officer for this little gathering. The two company commanders for the space marines were on board shuttles that didn’t make it to the planet. Most of you didn’t know it, but a flight of Vipers spotted the last four shuttles when they entered atmosphere. Rather than give our location away, they decided to ditch over the ocean. The Vipers didn’t give them a chance to do so.” A wordless growl from the marines raised the hackles on Ian’s neck.

  Stanton gestured to the map. “I’ve marked our location, since we need to conserve our battery energy. No one will use holos since they tend to be pretty extravagant with the juice. That excludes the electronics in your helmets. You’ll need them for tactical purposes.” He looked around the table, and gave everyone an intense stare. “I won’t pull any punches with you. We’re in a critical situation that needs immediate action to assure our survival. There are two hundred space marines, one hundred twenty-five Infantry, and over two hundred personnel from the York. The last batch is pretty much a mixture of different technicians. Who’s the ranking officer for the marines?”

  “Me, Captain. Lieutenant Gomez.”

  “Lieutenant, I want you and—which company is yours?”

  “Alpha company, Sir. Lieutenant Novak is in charge of Bravo.”

  “Good. I want you to organize a team to inventory personnel. Find out what their specialties are, and how we can make use of them. I’ll need that in twenty-four hours. Any problem with that?”

  “Sir, no Sir.”

  Lieutenant Novak, I want you to locate and mark a defensive perimeter around the entire mesa. Interlocking fires are more important than how close each position is to the other. I’ll want to review your positions and defensive fire plan first thing in the morning. Borrow NCOs and additional manpower from Alpha to accomplish that.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Novak said with a quick nod.

  “Good. Warrant Officer Boudreau, your squad will be our eyes and ears. I understand we only have enough food to cover us the next three weeks. Since we can’t expect help from home for at least two months, we need to find a source. That will be one of the two missions your squad has. The other is to recon towards Vanport and the space port. Gather data on what we’re up against. Have one of your fire teams locate itself inside the city on a semi-permanent basis and give us intel updates on what’s happening. Any questions?” he asked.

  “No questions, Captain.”

  “Good. All of you can coordinate any resource needs you have through First Sergeant Nance. He’ll be top NCO for this base, and responsible for its everyday running. My company will serve as his helpers, along with any personnel left over from the other critical tasks. What’m I forgetting?”

  “Communications, Sir.” A short redheaded woman in navy coveralls stiffened to parade rest.

  “And you are…”

  “Yeoman Second Class Anita Wilbert. My specialty’s commo.”

  “What brought you to this meeting?” Boudreau asked. “It was just for NCOs and officers.”

  “Because I’m the only one able to contact the corvette that’s stationed in the asteroid belt, Sir.”

  Stanton looked at her with a blank expression. “What corvette?”

  “The one the Admiral ordered to stay behind and monitor everything. I’ve got the location of the ship, and which frequencies it’s listening on.”

  Stanton stared at her a moment, deep in thought. “Alright, Yeoman, but how do we contact them from here?”

  “We can do it on the radio set inside any of the shuttles or Wasps, Sir.”

  The Captain glanced around the group with a bemused expression. “Jesus, I wonder what else we’re overlooking? I think the best thing I can do for now is make you our Signals Officer. I’m promoting you to Ensign. And don’t say I can’t do this, because I can.”

  She blushed furiously. “I know. The Articles of War are very clear on that point.”

  Everyone looked at each other for a moment, a stunned look on their face. War! It hadn’t penetrated anyone’s mind yet, they’d been too busy.

  “One thing, Captain,” Gunnery Sergeant Kinsey said. “We’d like permission to dismount at least four of the particle cannon from some of the Wasps, or some of the heavy beamers from the shuttles. It’d make our job of defending the perimeter a little easier.”

  Captain Stanton looked at the Gunnery Sergeant in amazement for a moment, and got a sheepish look on his face. “Gunny, I have to apologize. I didn’t make myself clear when we started this briefing. We have to do our best to remain in hiding. If we’re located, it’s lights out. They’ll bring a battlecruiser over our position and bombard us into extinction. Our only hope is to hide. If found, we have to retreat from this location rapidly as possible. Your perimeter is there mainly to give us early warning.”

  “May I make one suggestion, Sir?” Boudreau asked. At Stanton’s nod, he continued. “We should have a third mission for the LRS. Find routes off this mesa, and hideouts everyone can reach within a half-hour of being found. That’d give most of us a chance. And I think Gunny’s idea is still a good one. We’d just have to plan on those weapons buying us time rather than defend us.”

  Stanton hesitated, and nodded. “You’re right, Warrant. I’ll get with the pilots and maintenance techs and decide which ships we can take heavy guns from the easiest. Gunny, I only want volunteers for those emplacements, you understand?”

  “I understand Captain,” the Gunnery Sergeant said.

  “We’ll have another officer/NCO meeting tomorrow after breakfast. I want to see your plans and a briefing on what’s been done at that time. Question
s? Then let’s get to work, folks.”

  As everyone filed out of the cave, Ian caught up with Brita. “What’s this about volunteers? I didn’t think volunteer was in the military vocabulary,” he said.

  “It is in this case,” she said. “Any time they need soldiers for a suicide mission, they ask for volunteers. I’m glad it’s the Marines and not us.”

  “Suicide?”

  “Yep. The soldiers on the heavy weapons will stay to cover the retreat of everyone else. They won’t have much of a chance to retreat themselves, especially since they’ll be the main targets for bad guys.”

  Ian shook his head. “You’re right. Glad I don’t have to decide that.”

  “That’s what being a leader’s all about, Irish. Someday you might have to make a decision about which of your men, or women, gets left behind to die.”

  A shiver ran up Ian’s spine. He wiped suddenly damp palms on his shirt and hurried to keep up with Brita who’d broken into a trot.

  * * *

  Three hours before dawn, Ian brought his team to a halt. First night on the march, and already at their first checkpoint, twenty-five kilometers from the base. Not bad. He brought the other four close to him under a group of trees with a small circling wave.

  “Okay, guys. Here’s where we split up. We’re seventy-five kilometers from Vanport, and so far the route’s been easy. It doesn’t look to change any until we’re a lot closer. Blade, I want you to take J.C. and Two Eagles. Circle south and west around the space port and city. Get a count on aircraft and approximate troop numbers. Don’t get too close on this preliminary scout, we’ll do our close-in stuff later. Pointy and I’ll recon the north side of the town, and find us a hideout.”

  “What if we get jumped?” Two Eagles asked.

  “Knives or anything else that doesn’t make noise is fine. Use your needlers as a last resort. If you’re seen, move undercover fast as possible. I know the high plains we’re in doesn’t lend itself well to hiding, but you have your ghillies to cover yourselves for camouflage.” Ghillies were a poncho-type of covering which, when activated, rendered the wearer almost invisible since it blended in with its surroundings in a near-perfect manner.