by Michael Ryan
I identified myself and sent our position. “We need immediate air support.”
“You forgot to say please,” the private said.
“You’re fuuu…I mean, please…?” I said. Somebody was playing a practical joke on me, I thought. “We’re trapped on a ridge and exposed. There’s one heli-jet pinning us down. If we can get a single heli to give us a chance to move…”
“Sorry,” the private said. “All assets are accounted for.”
“There’s got to be–”
She cut the comm.
“Hell,” I said over the platoon comm. “We need to figure out the safest line of travel off the mountain. If you’ve got a good route – or if you think you do – send a pic over to Mallsin. Um, Sergeant Vestale. Quickly.” Mallsin wasn’t as preternaturally gifted with topography as Callie, but she did have a talent. I hoped somebody could discover a route with at least a modicum of cover. The heli-jet had moved to my right but was keeping its distance.
I eased my scope over the edge of a boulder and scanned for spots a sniper might be hiding below me.
An armor-piercing round hit my upper shoulder. Due to the angle, it ricocheted.
<
“Lori,” I said, “I’m going to run to you.”
“Roger.”
“Team,” I said. “I need to move. I’m going to fire a smoker. Look for signs of a sniper team, and keep an eye on that heli-jet.”
I tend to micromanage when I get anxious. I fired a black smoker, which was nearly impossible to sight through. I lowered my suit’s outer shell to match the ambient air temperature, and then I practically flew to Lori’s perch. A missile streaked at me a moment too late and slightly off target. The fact that it got so close with all my defense measures attested to the skill of our enemy.
“I need you to apply a patch,” I said once I was under the cover of a rock formation.
“Wow, it’s a close one,” Lori said. “A slight change in angle and you’d be a dead man.”
“Tell me about it.” The ammo our counterparts were using must have been nearly identical to our APA antiarmor darts. I locked down while Lori retrieved and applied an epoxy that would ensure the hole didn’t open and depressurize my equipment, killing me in the process. Even a tiny armor breach is a death sentence if not sealed promptly.
I verified that my internal pressure remained stable after she completed her work.
The heli fired another dozen missiles, causing one of the corporals to panic. He attempted to jump from his perch to a lower ledge, and the sniper, or sniper team, hit him the moment he stopped falling. Blue gel from the wound sprayed into the air like a whale spouting, and his icon went black, and just like that we were down to seven.
“I got a location that time,” Lori said.
“Transfer,” I commanded.
She sent me a highly magnified picture. I had to place it in the context of a broader visual to set the location I was viewing. There was barely any evidence of a sniper, but there was enough of a blur to make an educated guess. A shot likely had been taken from a singularly large branch on an otherwise nondescript tree. It was the kind of spot I’d have picked if I was setting up there.
“Nice job,” I said. “I’m bringing it up now in my targeting program. You want to take the head and I’ll take the body?”
“Roger,” she answered.
“Abrel,” I said.
“Go.”
“We’re going to take a shot,” I said. I sent him the picture Lori had transmitted. “I want you to observe this spot, but don’t shoot at it.”
“We’d have a better chance, Avery–”
“Yes, but you’d be exposing yourself, too.” I wanted to limit the risk of having all of us traced back, in spite of the fact that this meant there was a greater chance of missing the target. “We’re going to have to fire and run, so cover us.”
“You got it, boss,” he said.
I moved the reticule to a spot on the branch where an anomaly showed. It was only a slight abnormality and could have been natural. But it was the best sign we had, so we linked our weapons and fired simultaneously. The shape morphed as the light-bending camo failed, and the enemy sniper dropped to the ground.
“Nice shot,” I said. “But, shit…”
<
The heli had fired kinetic energy and heat-seeking HE rounds at us. I launched two flares and an antimissile screen. Both were my last defensive measures, which sort of reinforced the foolishness of going out on an “easy mission” without adequate ammunition. I leapt over the rock while messaging Lori to join me. I tumbled in lockdown mode, which was risky, but better than sitting still. When I hit a ledge and stopped suddenly, I spun and fired my forearm coil-guns at a missile that had locked on me after evading my antimissile measures.
The heat-seeker blew into pieces so close that the core of the projectile still slammed into me.
My suit auto-locked.
<
Whatever damage was done was masked by an infusion of painkillers. I shut down the medical warnings and rolled to my left. Lori should have been right next to me, but she’d overshot the ledge and had tumbled down another seventy-five meters.
Then Mallsin messaged me. “Abrel, we’ve got a problem.”
“I need your help,” Lori said.
<
The sniper we’d killed had a partner, and he’d made a successful kill shot at the corporal who’d fired an antimissile at the incoming rounds from the heli-jet. It was an incredibly deadly combination, and I watched another icon turn black. My platoon was down to six members.
“Avery,” Lori said, “I took a kinetic round through the foot. I’m holding a seal with my hands.”
“Golvin,” I said. “Okay, hold on while I find a safe way to drop to you.”
She’d need me to epoxy her suit breach when she moved her hands, or she’d completely depressurize. The fact that she’d taken a kinetic round – a through-and-through – had saved her life. If it had been an armor-piercing bullet, it wouldn’t have passed through. Instead, it would have bounced around inside her suit and shredded her from toes to brains.
The heli-jet moved to my left but continued to remain a safe distance from us. I knew there was at least one additional sharpshooter below, and while not as dangerous, there was still a platoon of light infantry out there. I never panic in situations like this; it’s counterproductive, and the suit’s medi-program won’t allow panic attacks. But I knew we were in deep shit.
I put in a call to HQ Command Air Systems.
“Private Joveseven, how can I help you?”
“This is Lieutenant Ford, and I need to speak–”
“Hold on, you’re in an infantry unit?” the private asked.
“That’s ‘you’re in an infantry unit, sir?’” I said. You snotty punk, I thought. At least he could read.
“Excuse me, sir,” he said. “Now, sir, am I correct in assuming you’re in an infantry unit?”
“You can read,” I said out loud. Probably, unfortunately.
“Sir, there’s no reason to be short with me. You have to follow the proper channels.”
“I need to speak to a pilot, Hozzen Leader. He’s a warrant officer. WO Burns.”
“Sir–”
“Look,” I said, interrupting the private. “I can read too. I see your identifier and your unit, Private Joveseven. Do you know what that means?”
“No, sir,” he said. “It’s standard on all comm for the–”
“Private, connect me to Warrant Officer Burns. If you don’t do this immediately, I will find you. I will personally rip off your little dick and make you eat it, and then I’ll find a lizard and personally feed you to it, piece by piece. And then I’ll–”
“Jesus, sir. You’re not healthy,” he said. “One minute, I’ll find Burns.”
I wanted to reach through the electromagnetic wave field
and thump the kid on the head. Next time Command takes suggestions, I’m going to request a new rule that requires command desk job holders to first spend a year in the field.
“Burns here. Go.”
Thank the heavens!
“Burns, it’s Lieutenant Ford.”
“Ford, how’s it hanging?”
“I’m in a tight spot, brother.” I forwarded him the coordinates of our position and the likely enemies we were facing.
“Hell, you think just because you saved my life I’m going to leave my poker game?”
“Sir,” I said.
“Just yanking your chain, Ford. I’m already on my way to a heli,” he said.
“I’ll owe you one.”
“No, we’ll be even,” he said. “But I’m stealing this bitch, so you’ll probably have to put in a good word on a disciplinary panel.”
“You got it,” I said.
He ended the comm.
“You happy now?” Private Joveseven asked. I’d forgotten he was still on the line.
“Yes,” I said. “And you should be, too.”
He hung up on me.
“Avery,” Mallsin said, “we’ve got eyes on the light infantry moving up the ridge.”
“They’re decoys,” I said. “Ignore them for now.”
“Roger,” she replied. “You got a potential lo-cal on that second shooter?”
“Negative. I need you to cover me. Lori’s stuck.”
“Avery,” Abrel said.
“Go.”
“I’m down to two APA rounds and a handful of missiles.”
I switched to the all-platoon comm. “Listen up! I need a call out on what everyone has and how secure you feel about your concealment at the moment. I’ve got a heli-jet coming to assist us, so don’t do anything stupid.”
“How’d you get a heli-jet?” Abrel asked.
“A favor,” I answered. “Call out.”
“Four APA, two KE, and four flares,” Mallsin said. “I’m secure.”
“I’ve got three APA, and grenades,” Corporal Stevenson said. “I have decent cover.”
“I’m sitting on the mother lode,” Sergeant Vestbanez responded. “Seven APA, two KE, two HE, and four flares. I also have a few grenades, and my back hurts.”
“Your back shouldn’t hurt,” I said. “Did you run a check on your medi-system?”
“Yes, sir,” he said. “I think there’s been a breach somewhere. I feel pain, and I can’t call up all my systems. If you need a sacrificial lamb, I’m probably the best one for the job.”
“Okay, hold on.” I switched comms. “Lori?”
“I’m down to one APA, Avery. I’m losing pressure. I’m in a good hole, but it won’t matter in a few minutes how good my cover is.”
Shit. Even with a suit in lockdown and an armored grip covering the holes, it wasn’t uncommon for the extreme pressure to find a way to bleed out. I took a quick survey of the situation and was about to jump when the heli fired another volley of randomly aimed missiles.
Nothing locked on me, but Mallsin was forced to leap to a new spot.
“Versus,” Abrel said. “Mal’s been hit. I’m moving.”
“I’m okay,” Mallsin said. “Okay, I’m not okay. I’m…”
“Mallsin?”
Abrel moved and was nearly blown to pieces by an HE round. “Avery, the helis got me cornered. I need you to move to Mallsin.”
“Avery, I need you here,” Lori said. “I’m your partner.”
She sounded desperate.
Stevenson moved. I watched as he made a desperate attempt to reach Mallsin. He slipped on a loose spot in the dirt. The sniper took him out with a body shot.
“Avery,” Lori cried, “I’m at…I’m…help.”
“Avery,” Abrel said.
“Go.”
“I can’t move, but I’m also keeping the heli fixed on me. I need you to move to Mallsin.”
“But…”
“No buts here, Avery. I’m pulling out my friendship card. Imagine it was Callie.”
Jesus. I looked down at Lori and made a split-second decision based on a lifetime of combat and watching soldiers die. I fired my last offensive missiles at the tree where I suspected the sniper was hiding, two HE and a KE. It was a calculated gamble, but if he had to worry about incoming missiles, he couldn’t shoot me. I ran across the face of the ridge in a controlled fall towards Mallsin.
“Avery, you bastard,” Lori said.
To this day, I’m not sure if I could have saved her even if I’d acted as protocol demanded. But what I knew then, and what I know today, was that Mallsin had saved my life so many times that my actions weren’t entirely conscious ones. When Abrel asked me to protect his partner, I went. I’m neither proud nor ashamed of my actions.
When I reached Mallsin, I applied epoxy to her breach and helped her move to a more concealed location.
“Avery,” Abrel asked, “where’s that heli?”
“Hold one,” I said. “Sergeant Vestbanez, you still with us?”
“Roger that, sir,” he said. “I think I spotted the sniper. On your last volley of missiles on that tree.”
“Send it.”
He sent me a picture of the tree, and I magnified the image. The Dreki camo was good, but I felt I had a possible identification.
“Good job, Sergeant,” I said. “I’m going to get into position and link weapons with you. We’ll take a chance.”
“Roger.”
“Avery Ford, you crazy bastard, I’m ten clicks out,” Burns reported from his heli.
“Hozzen Leader,” I said back to him, “can you send that damn Dreki heli a message for me?”
“Sure thing. What’s the message?”
“Think of something vulgar,” I answered. “Abrel, the moment that heli moves, bring yourself around to join me in this shot on the sniper.” I sent Abrel a picture of the tree.
“Roger.”
Burns came up behind the ridge we were on and fired a nonstop barrage of missiles at the Dreki craft. It responded with return fire, but I suspect it had expended so much ammo trying to kill us that it was low. The aircraft made a sweeping one-eighty and fled.
I waited five seconds for Abrel to link in and then started the targeting sequence on the sniper.
My reticule went from yellow to green and synchronized with Vestbanez and Abrel. Three APA darts sped supersonically across the valley. We landed two of them and struck the enemy sniper in the leg and midsection. He exploded in a brilliant flash of light.
“I’ve got movement on the light armor,” Vestbanez said.
“Take them out,” I ordered.
He fired on them.
Once flushed out of cover, Abrel and I helped to finish them off. I plugged my Silver Wire into Mallsin’s suit.
<
I unplugged. “Abrel, I’ll need your help getting Mallsin into that heli.”
“He’s going to pick us up?” he asked incredulously.
“If not, what was the point…”
“I hope you’re right,” he said. “But he’s got to kill that…oh, well, he got him. Nice shooting, too.”
The enemy heli was burning in a giant ball of flame far across the valley.
“Hozzen Leader,” I said.
“Go.”
“Nice shooting. We’ve got a red here. Requesting a medevac.”
“Hell, you don’t ask for much, do you?”
“Just the nearly impossible from the marginally disabled and stupid, present company excluded.”
“On the way.”
The evac was difficult, but once we managed to lug Mallsin like a sack of potatoes, the rest of us climbed in without a hitch. I looked back at the burned-out suits of Lori and the rest of the dead, tagged the locations, and tried to put the night out of my mind.
Some nightmares are not worth remembering.
Some nightmares never let you forget.
That night fell into the latter c
ategory.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
If you have men who will exclude any of God’s creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men.
~ Saint Francis of Assisi
Callie and Alayna became friends, as much as it was possible when they required an alien to interpret their conversations and one of them was encased in a titanium-carbon-iridium composite suit.
“Can you tell me anything about the history of your planet?” Callie asked.
“I know some old songs my mother taught me,” Alayna answered.
Callie sat near the woman. “Can I hear one?”
The woman nodded her head, and Callie began a recording of Alayna singing. Then she asked Polloz to do his best to interpret the words.
Blessed virgin
Watch us still
City of Chewm
The morning dew
Pat tricks beard
Ah them poor children
Them poor children
Blessed Virgin
Save some from the great hunger
Them poor children
City of Chewm
Where the bones lie still
And child still die
Lonely children
Lonely child
Buried where the bones mix
“It’s not perfect, sir,” Polloz said. “Maybe when you get to your starship you can talk to other Katashie and find a more accurate translation.”
“Yes,” Callie said absentmindedly.
“The girl asks if you have children,” he said.
“I lost my children,” Callie said. “Tell her I’m thankful that she shared…”
Surrounded by people, but all alone, Callie felt a dull ache.
Sealed in a monstrosity that restricted her from feeling what she felt was her right, she decided that if they survived, she would ask Avery to retire. She never wanted to kill again, even if for a righteous cause.
General Balestain had many duties as the commander of the JFUA Third Army, but he entrusted his lieutenant generals to handle the day-to-day operations. He could also count on the admiral of the Fifth Fleet to manage any emergencies that might arise in space. Technically, on board the Kuznetsov, Captain Courizant outranked the general. But this was only a minor technicality, a throwback to early times and different command structures.