Scouts Out: Books One and Two

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Scouts Out: Books One and Two Page 35

by Danny Loomis


  “Stay on tac three, and check in with me every hour. Anything else?”

  “No, except we’re gonna start wearing our ghillies as soon as we’re within sight of the first Alliance outpost,” Blade said.

  Ian nodded. “Good idea. Saves time digging them out later when you might need them.” He pulled out a packet of rations. “Right now, let’s chow down. Might be a while before we get another chance.”

  An hour later both groups trekked to the south, each on a course that gradually diverged. Within three kilometers they were swallowed in the gently rolling grasslands. Small groups of trees were spread across the plain, seeming to huddle together for company. This was where water broke through the surface crust of soil underlaid by a limestone cap.

  By dawn the terrain became more rugged, the plains cut with small canyons and foothills which marched towards a line of mountains to the south and west. Ian led the way into the nearest copse of evergreen trees. These particular ones were firs, a hardy breed of tree brought from Earth and seeded across the continent over 500 years ago. Two hundred kilometers further north vast forests had taken root, and extended well into the arctic zone of Edo.

  They circled a small pond of clear water, ensuring no one else was around before approaching it. Ian dipped his hand into the water and was surprised how cold it felt. And how good it tasted, he thought, sipping from his cupped hand. A short ridgeline began on the far edge of the trees, rising above the surrounding countryside by a good twenty meters before tailing off. At the base, a small overhang barely a meter high caught his eye. He went down on all fours and was able to see a cave opening.

  “Something here, Pointy. I’m going in.” Switching to infra-red he entered the cave. It opened into a room five meters on a side, with a sand-covered floor.

  “Hey, Pointy! Come on in, this is just like a room.” Ian stood and turned on an infra red flashlight, helping illuminate the interior. The back of the room narrowed down and disappeared around a bend. He was moving to investigate when Pointy entered.

  “Good thing you found this. We got company.”

  Ian stepped to the entrance, and scanned the immediate area.

  “Look up. Two slow movers headin’ our way.” Two flitters could be seen growing in size as they approached, their buzzing just becoming audible. Ian withdrew into the cave.

  “Now what?” Pointy asked, unslinging his rifle and checking it.

  “I think it’s time we did some exploring,” Ian said, moving to the back of the cave. Getting down on all fours again, he crept through a low passage which wound downward for at least fifteen meters. The floor changed to compacted soil and limestone, which made for easy movement. Once again the cave opened out, this time on more of a downward slant than before. Turning his night vision capability to its fullest, he looked into the depths of a cavern that dropped away in front of him for several meters. Huge stalagtites hung from ceiling to floor, acting as supports for the vast cavern.

  “Je-sus,” Pointy said. “Whatta place. There must be some source of light around here, or we couldn’t see as far into this as we can.”

  Ian picked at a faintly glowing spot on the wall. “You’re right. Looks like some kind of algae is giving the place a low level of illumination. Pretty handy.”

  “Seein’ as how we’re not the only ones who’ve used this trail before, I’d say it is pretty handy,” Pointy said, gesturing towards a set of steps carved into the side of the cavern heading into its depths.

  Ian turned to the opening that led back to the surface. “We don’t have time for this right now. Let’s see if our visitors have left.”

  Several minutes later they eased out of the cave, ghillies turned on. Both flitters were parked one hundred meters from the copse of trees, and eight Alliance storm troopers had spread themselves out across the field and moved towards them.

  “Flank ’em,” Ian hissed. He turned and scuttled to the left. Pointy crept to the right. Moving in a crab-like stance, Ian managed to clear the left side of the line before it entered the treeline. He approached the flitters, noting the pilot had joined the soldiers rather than pull security on his aircraft. Stupid. He leaned inside and gave it a quick inspection before moving to the second. A subliminal shimmer near its tail cued Ian in to where Pointy was.

  “What’re you doing?” he subvocalized.

  “Just inspectin’ their maintenance. And boy is it bad.”

  “Let’s keep moving. See that group of trees about five klicks away? Head towards there. We’ll turn off our ghillies once inside the treeline.” He walked away from the flitters, keeping his steps and body movement at a discordant rhythm that would make it next to impossible to see even a shimmer of movement in the waist-high grass that spread to the horizon.

  They were still a kilometer from the trees when Ian heard the buzzing sound of the two flitters. Ian looked around. “Hope they don’t come this way. It’d be easy to see our outlines in the grass.” He eased to the ground, trying to look inconspicuous.

  “Wait a second,” Pointy said. “They’re headin’ away from us. You gotta see this.”

  Ian watched the two flitters lift into the air, and head west. Suddenly the rear flitter began spinning out of control, and within seconds crashed into the ground. The resultant explosion and fire ensured there were no survivors.

  “Okay, I’ll bite. What’d you do to their flitter?” Ian asked.

  “I was inspectin’ their tail rotor, and noticed it had a lockin’ pin holdin’ the rotor nut on. It was cryin’ out for freedom. It was amazin’ how easy that nut was to loosen without that lockin’ pin. I was gonna tell ’em about it, but you were in a hurry.”

  Ian turned away, shaking his head. “Someday you’ll get caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Let’s keep moving.”

  Twelve hours later they had traveled another thirty kilometers, putting as much distance between themselves and the crash site as they could. When the sun began its slow rise, they found another cavesite.

  “How can this large of a cave not be filled up? It’s right next to a pond of water,” Pointy said.

  “Bring the map up on your faceplate,” Ian said. “If you follow the groups of trees, you can see they follow an indentation in the ground. I think there’s an underground stream that surfaces occasionally. Those caves tend to point ninety degrees away from the streamline, which probably means there’s no geologic connection, otherwise the caves would be waterlogged.”

  “In other words you’re not sure either,” Pointy said with a chuckle.

  “Right the first time. Let’s hole up here for the day. Good a place as any.”

  VANPORT (DAY +31):

  Pointy froze in place. “Two bandits, comin’ in on our six.” Ian stopped, cursing the fact he seemed to always be caught in an awkward position when they had to freeze. The roar of two attack shuttles crossed over. That had been the fourth overflight in the past two hours. Getting close.

  “Alright, let’s go,” he said. They’d paralleled a two-lane road since sunset the previous day, bypassing several small farms and ranches. It had gotten dark three hours ago. Breasting a small rise, they finally came in sight of the city of Vanport. Ian was struck by how few buildings were over two stories. In fact, the tallest was the six story spaceport terminal five kilometers to their left.

  They took shelter beneath a cluster of low growing trees, and broke out a meal. “Last time Blade reported in they were on the far eastern side of the spaceport,” Ian said. “We’ll start out again in fifteen minutes. Once we find a hideout all of us can fit in, I’ll give him a holler. After that we’ll rest all day, then spend tomorrow night on a detailed recon of the city.”

  Finding an ideal shelter proved easier than anticipated due to the absence of people. “Not a soul in the past mile,” Pointy said. “This is gettin’ spooky, man.”

  “In here,” Ian said, and entered through the back door of a small neighborhood grocery store. Passing through a two-bedroom apartment at the b
ack of the business, they crept into the store proper. At Ian’s signal they removed their ghillies. Shelves were still lined with foodstuffs, mostly dried or canned. A large freezer and cooler took up one entire wall.

  Pointy shook his head. “If the lights weren’t out, you’d think the place was open.” He took a small sack of candy off the shelf. “Well, well. Looky here, my favorite. Licorice sticks.”

  “Leave some money for that, asshole. We’re not looters,” Ian said.

  “Y’think they’d take some long range rations in trade? I didn’t think to bring my credit cube in these clothes.” Regretfully he put the candy back on the shelf. They continued their exploration.

  “Look for any signs of a struggle. I can’t imagine why they’d just leave their store. The back door wasn’t even locked.”

  “Neither’s the front,” Pointy said. “Wup! We got visitors.” He ducked below the front windowsill as two storm troopers strolled past.

  Both Ian and Pointy had their ghillies back on by the time they reached the back door. “Pointy, take the lead. We need to see if they’ve got a guard post or whatever around here. I was hoping to make this our base of operations, but not if those guys are shacked up close by.”

  Pointy slipped out the back with Ian close behind. Both melted into their surroundings as they followed the two guards. “Jesus Christ on a crutch,” Pointy whispered, “Valkyrie’d have our balls on a plate if we were even half that sloppy. Must not be expectin’ anythin’ to be this casual.”

  The two Alliance soldiers turned into a small shop, leaving Ian and Pointy to wait outside. Breaking glass echoed out the front of the store. Minutes later they reappeared, laden with two sacks which clinked as they walked.

  “Shit,” Pointy said, sniffing the air. “They just looted a liquor store.”

  Ten blocks further the soldiers turned into a large single story house with a truck parked in front. “Sounds like at least a squad,” Ian whispered. “Let’s get a closer look. You take the front, I’ll go around back.” With that he was gone, moving fast as he dared. It had been full dark for several hours, and no streetlights had come on. Amazing how dark it could get. He eased into position next to the back door, raised his head and looked in a window. Six, maybe seven soldiers in the living and dining room. More in the side rooms from the sound of it.

  He lowered back down and prepared to crawl towards a side window to see if he could get a better head count. “Company’s comin’,” hissed pointy over his com. “Two more just showed up. Damn, they seemed to come up outta the ground. They’re goin’ around the back, towards you.”

  Two black-clad shapes materialized next to the back door, eased it open and crept inside. “Those two aren’t storm troopers,” Ian said. “I think we’ve got a couple members of the resistance joining the party. Put your needler on single shot and be prepared to take out any of the Alliance assholes that come out the front door.”

  “You gonna join the fun inside?” Pointy asked.

  “Nope. I’ll shoot any bad guys that come out the back. Don’t shoot anything dressed in black.”

  “This whole thing’s weird,” Pointy muttered. “We’re usually the ones goin’ inside to stir up the pot.”

  A muffled burst of automatic gunfire from inside focused their attention. A storm trooper reeled out of the house towards Ian, blood pouring from a neck wound. Ian squeezed the trigger of his pistol twice; a double “Thonk” was all that could be heard as two needles struck the soldier in the forehead, causing him to fall bonelessly, dead before he struck the ground. Brief flashes of struggling figures could be seen through the windows. A storm trooper’s body crashed through the back window. A black clad figure was momentarily silhouetted, and then gone.

  The defensive stance the form had been in for that fleeting instant startled Ian. “Hey, Pointy. Can you see any of the action inside?”

  “You bet, man. Those two dudes are like greased lightnin’ in their moves. One even has two short knives. I think that one’s a girl.”

  “Doesn’t their fighting style remind you of someone?” Ian asked.

  “Now that you mention it… Whups! Two comin’ out.” A muted hum reached Ian’s ears as Pointy shot his needler on full auto.

  “Goddamnit, Pointy, I told you single shot! We have to cover our tracks when this is over.”

  “Sorry, man. Got a little excited.”

  “You can get excited digging out all those needles that missed,” Ian said.

  By now the action had quieted inside. Two figures emerged, the smaller one helping her badly limping partner. Ian peeled off his ghillies, slowly stood and held his hands away from his body. Other than a slight hesitation, both figures continued towards him.

  “We’re friends,” he said, feeling a little foolish. What do you say that’s right in a situation like this, he thought.

  “It would seem so,” the limping figure said, as they came to a halt five meters in front of Ian. “Would you have something to staunch the bleeding of a leg wound?” he asked as he half-collapsed to the ground in spite of his partner’s efforts to keep him upright.

  Ian stepped forward but stopped instantly as the smaller one went into an on guard stance. He removed the first aid packet from his belt and tossed it to the pair.

  “Pointy, go inside and see if anyone’s left alive. If not, we need to start cleaning up this mess so they don’t know we were involved.” Acknowledgment came in the form of a double-click on his com.

  “My partner’s going inside to see if anyone’s still alive,” he said, squatting down.

  “No need,” said the shorter one. As he thought, a woman.

  “We’re going to have to remove any sign that my partner and I helped you,” Ian said. “The Alliance would find my people if they conducted a serious search.”

  “I am Aosi. Please excuse our caution, but we only know of Alliance forces on this planet besides ourselves. Who are you?”

  “We’re from the Confederation fleet that just got its ass whipped,” Ian said. “One of the last ships was able to off-load several of us before they were destroyed.”

  “The Confederation!” Aosi jerked upright as if stung. “We’ve been hoping. What do you mean by ‘whipped’?”

  “We didn’t know you’d been invaded. Our leaders heard the Alliance was going to show up for a visit, and we were on our way to let them know they couldn’t just bully their way into a star system. Even one that’s claimed neutrality. It seems they expected us, and set an ambush. We lost quite a few ships, but some got away.”

  “I am Lissa,” the woman said. She finished bandaging the wound on Aosi’s thigh, where a bullet had passed through the muscle just above the kneecap.

  “We need to inform our elders of your presence. Can you find a place to hide until we can get back to you?”

  Ian described the location of the grocery store they’d recently left. “I’ve got three more joining us there in a couple of hours. In the meantime, we’re short on food. Is there some way we can borrow…”

  “For anything you need you have but to ask. If no one is present, just leave a note and sign it ‘Aosi’s friend’. There will be no problem.”

  “Thanks,” Ian said in relief. “We’d also like to discuss with your leaders the possibility of supplying food to the rest of our force. But we can talk later about that.”

  “Yes,” Aosi said as he struggled to his feet. “For now, we need to report in. It may be several hours before someone can get back to you.” With that they moved down the nearest alleyway, merging into the shadows.

  “How they do that, anyway?” Pointy asked as he came out the back door. “I swear they disappear into the ground as they walk.”

  “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough,” Ian said. “C’mon. Let’s finish before any more bad guys show up.”

  It was an hour before Ian felt satisfied they had recovered or destroyed all signs of their presence. They searched the entire front of the house for needler holes, digging
them out when found. All the bodies were stacked in the center of the kitchen and doused with a flammable liquid. As he stepped out the back door he tossed a burning rag onto the pile, which ignited with a quiet whoosh of sound.

  A kilometer later they entered the grocery store. Blade, J.C. and Two Eagles were already inside, just finished with blacking out the windows.

  Ian opened the refrigerator. “Chow time.”

  “You mean we can go ahead and eat their stuff?” J.C. asked.

  “Yep,” Ian said as he pulled out several boxes. “We just leave an IOU and take what we need. But for accountability we need to list everything we take. Brita’d have our asses if we didn’t.”

  “My turn to cook,” Pointy said, taking boxes from the shelves. “I’ll try some good old fashioned pasta with meat sauce. That ought to fill us up.”

  At Ian’s inquiring look, Blade nodded. “Sensors already out. We’ve got coverage out to five hundred meters in every direction. It’s being fed directly onto our Tac Two channel, so we can pick it up on our helmets. That way whoever has guard duty can lay around and do his job just fine. Long’s he has his helmet on.”

  “I need to send a message back to our home base,” Ian said, “but first I want to hear what you found on your recon. You already got the gist of ours.”

  “Right,” Blade said. “Didn’t get too close to th’ spaceport this first pass, but we got a pretty good look at what they’ve got equipment-wise. Thirty attack shuttles always on th’ ground, with another ten or fifteen taking off or landing on a continuing basis. Still offloading supplies and ammo. The heaviest firepower so far are some thirty centimeter pulsers they mounted in a ring around th’ field. At least ten of ’em. Also they got a company of light tanks, with lasers mounted on ’em, along with their 75mm cannon. And it looked like at least one machine gun on each.”

 

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