by Brian Dorsey
“Lieutenant Martin—”
“I’m sorry,” she blurted, the hint of tear forming in the corner of her eye.
“For what?”
“Failing, Sir. What else? I have failed my platoon, failed you…” She swallowed hard. “Failed our people.” She placed her hand on her sword. She would just give it to him now.
She felt his hand on hers.
“What are you doing, Emily?”
“Sir…I’m…I…”
“Only you would…” Stone shook his head. “Damn it.”
‘How much worse could this get?’ she thought to herself.
“I just—”
“Shut up, Emily,” interjected Stone. “Just listen.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “This is what you have done in the two weeks: You managed to get your men off Draxius before it was destroyed. You successfully confirmed the Terillians were on the planet and located a mining station operating contrary to the Accords. And you used an ancient Terillian communications station to send a message for reinforcements.” He paused. “You have done your job here, Lieutenant.”
“I have?” she huffed. “I only have three men left.”
“You’ve got six, Lieutenant,” replied Stone. “We just have to go get the other three.”
Stone’s hands held her shoulders tightly as he leaned closer. “It’s always hard to lose men, Lieutenant. And you never forget that feeling in your gut when you think of them.” He released her shoulders and stepped back. “But the fact any of them are alive is due to you.” His eyes looked into hers. “You, Lieutenant Martin…you did your job.”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied, exhaling a long, cleansing breath.
“Now about these Phel. How many did you see?”
“The men took out three and I…”
“How many?”
“Ten…” she answered, a spark of pride starting to show until she remembered that horrible room and the children. “Twelve, sir,” she said quietly.
***
Her belly full and her spirit renewed, Martin stood at the edge of the small circle of officers surrounding Major Stone. Although she would never fully believe the praise Stone had given her was warranted, his confidence allowed her to focus on getting Jackson and her other men back. And make Varus pay for his treachery.
“Lieutenant Martin has provided a digital overlay of the Terillian outpost. Infantry numbers are most likely five to nine hundred. They could still have a few light tanks and definitely some personnel carriers, but with the Terillian escort ships gone our hawks should be able to handle them. The biggest problem will be the company of Scout Rangers. And one of them is a painted-face.”
“How do you know?” asked Lieutenant Desro.
“Lieutenant Martin engaged him,” replied Stone.
Martin saw the officers facing away from her shift their position to look toward her. Not many Guardsmen had come up against a painted-face ranger and lived.
“Don’t worry, boys,” replied Martin with a smile. “I threw him back so you can get a chance at him.”
“And be careful what you wish for,” cautioned Stone. “The best thing you can do if you see one of these guys is to put as much lead as possible into them.” Stone paused slightly to refocus himself and the group. “Now down to business,” he continued as he pulled out his digital map. “Everyone follow along on screen three.”
Martin pulled her new digital pad, with new encrypted frequencies, from her vest. She selected the correct screen but she didn’t need to look; she had given Stone the information he was about to share with the rest of the battalion’s officers.
“Martin and her team collected some good intel and we have a pretty good picture of the area. The main outpost’s two large buildings are positioned near the center. To the east are several tents that might be used as troop shelters or as supply tents. On the south end of the camp, behind the structures, is a fairly large docking and transport launch complex. It supports a mining platform about two kilometers out into a lake you see further south.”
“Perimeter defenses?” asked Captain Tacitus.
“Lieutenant Martin,” said Stone, opening the floor to her.
“The main entrance will most likely have a squad of regulars. They have heavy gun emplacements at about 500-meter intervals set up for full coverage of the two- to three-hundred meter clearing at most points. They also have several roving sentries as well as forward patrols at the tree line and random deep patrols. But I expect they’ll concentrate around their base now that we’ve let ’em know the Guard’s here in force.”
“Probably so,” continued Stone. “With that in mind, here’s the plan. Alpha Company, I want you positioned to the east. Move in quiet as close as you can get, but no closer than two klicks. Once the shooting starts, go loud and try to draw some Terillians outside of the perimeter. If no one bites, move in and link up with Charlie.”
“Understood, Sir,” replied Captain Tacitus.
“Charlie Company,” continued Stone, “will go in right behind the three hawks, hitting the platform. Your goal is to take that platform intact…if you can.”
Martin wondered why the platform needed to be taken instead of destroyed, but Stone must’ve had his reasons.
“4th platoon from Bravo will remain near the ready transports to support if needed. Delta, you’ll take 1st, 2nd, and 3rd platoons and hit ’em head on. You’ll have two hawks supporting you. Take out those transports and any tanks they have left.”
“Uu-ah,” replied Captain Vance, Delta’s company commander.
“That should keep them all pretty busy while Martin and her team move in to get our people out.”
Martin moved toward the center of the circle. “We’ll do a combat drop to the docking platform and enter the first building to start the search. Once we find them, if we need support we’ll call on the rest of Bravo to support and extract.”
“Who’s on your team?” asked Captain Vance.
“My people plus Sergeant Kilgore and 1st Squad from Bravo-3.”
“Are we hitting them tonight?” asked Tacitus.
“We’ll hit them in…” Stone looked toward his digital pad. “Sixteen hours. The Ters will expect us to attack and they will be looking for our transports. If we move on the base by foot through the night, we can be in position just as the cold clears. It’ll be a long night and we’ll need to make sure our forward patrols are out far enough to screen our movement, but we might be able to catch them off guard. Delta 4th platoon will board the transports an hour before the temperature turns. Lieutenant Desro, you’ll have all of Delta’s and part of Charlie’s transports. I want you to move on the old Terillian base where Martin ran into the Phel. It will hopefully make them think we believe they are operating out of the old base.” He paused. “And while you’re there, see if Martin left any Phel for you.”
Martin’s stomach dropped as she remembered the children she left at the Phel outpost.
“Uu-ah,” replied Desro.
“Everyone understand their roles?” asked Stone.
“Uu-ah,” roared the men in unison.
“Uu-ah,” mouthed Martin, turning away from the group.
Chapter 14
Martin looked over her team as the transport rattled and lifted off the ground. Her wounds and her joints ached and her muscles randomly cramped, but she pushed it from her mind. In a few minutes, she would have the chance to free her men, save Jackson…and kill Varus.
Checking her gear, she heard the battle begin to unfold over the transport’s comms circuit.
‘Charlie Oscar, this is Charlie,’ crackled the report as Martin listened into the speaker in the troop compartment. ‘We’re in position. Bolt 1 and 2 are supersonic in route to primary target. Hawks increasing speed…over target in five minutes.’
‘This is Alpha, contact approximately two klicks out. Engaging,’ boomed Tacitus’s voice over the radio.
‘Perimeter breached forward’ burst through the static, the sounds of gunfire cr
acking in the background. ‘Advancing on objective.’
Martin’s toes began to dance inside her combat boots. It would soon be her turn. The nervous energy rippling through her muscles, and she looked quickly toward the ground. As she did, she noticed her hair fall around her face. She was due a haircut when Draxius was lost and it had grown even more over the two weeks. Running her hands through her scarlet hair and pushing it behind her head, she grabbed a lock-clip from her pocket and pinned her hair into a tight ponytail.
‘Charlie over target’’ broke through the comms circuit. ‘Bolt 1 and 2 strafing runs effective...deploying.’
‘We’re up, Lieutenant,’ reported the transport’s pilot to Martin.
“Punch it,” she replied and the transport jumped to supersonic speed. “Three minutes to doors open!” she shouted to her men.
‘Charlie, this is Delta Two, moving toward your left flank.’
‘Roger Delta Two, be advised—two heavy guns three-zero meters from west end of tent structures.’
Martin visualized the landing dock and her path to the structure where she hoped Jackson and the others were being held. She slowly inhaled and exhaled as she listened to the battle she was about to join.
‘Charlie Oscar, this is Charlie, engaging Rangers on our left flank. Request support from Delta.’
‘Delta Two, this is Delta, break off engagement and support Charlie. Delta Three, move left and expand front.’
“Sounds like it’s gettin’ hot down there, LT,” said Sergeant Kilgore.
“And it’s about to get hotter,” replied Martin as the light above her shifted to green. “One minute!” she shouted. “Prepare for combat drop and deployment!”
“Hold on” came the pilot’s voice over the intercom.
Martin pushed the air out of her lungs as the transport dropped to subsonic speed, banked hard, and came to a sudden stop.
“Dropping!” warned the pilot and the transport plummeted toward the ground 500 feet below.
Martin’s stomach turned and her body felt weightless momentarily as the transport dropped like a rock toward its landing point. Gripping her rifle, she focused on the hatch.
The transport jerked to a stop and the transport’s hatches flew open.
“Go!” shouted Martin as her harness released and she rushed forward.
The crack of gunfire and the boom of small explosions, combined with the roar of the transports engines, flooded Martin’s senses as she burst out of the troop compartment. As her feet hit the metallic floor of the landing platform, she brought her rifle to the ready and scanned the area as she rushed toward a nearby stack of crates. To her left she saw hawks banking and turning back toward the platform on the lake behind her. To her right she saw Terillian troops rushing toward the location of Charlie Company.
“Charlie, this is Scorpion One,” she said into her comms link as she rushed for cover. “Regulars moving toward you from the west.”
‘Roger, Scorpion One’ came the reply.
Reaching the containers, Martin looked to see the rest of the team take cover. Looking down she saw Daemon next her. “Search…program set alpha,” she ordered to the war dog, its AI programed to track the scent of Jackson and the other prisoners. “Release.”
The dog burst into a run, directly toward the building twenty meters away.
‘They’re in there,’ thought Martin.
“They left their back door open,” said Shara, taking cover behind a support beam a few meters away.
“Just like the major thought they would,” replied Martin as she activated her comms link. “This is Scorpion One moving forward.”
With the defenders distracted by the heavy fighting around them, Martin and her team rushed toward the entrance of the building. She reached the entrance and turned her back against the wall beside the door as the others took their positions.
“Sergeant Ash, team alpha cover the entrance,” she ordered. “Sergeant Kilgore, watch our six after we enter.” Martin was distracted by Daemon pawing at the door. “Hold on, boy,” she said as she looked back up toward her team. “Yates, Shara, let’s get our guys back.”
“Contact!” shouted Kilgore as he opened fire, toppling a Terillian as he turned the corner of the building.
“Locked!” shouted Shara as he pulled on the door. He looked toward Martin as he reached into his vest.
“Blow it,” ordered Martin.
Shara placed three gel explosive packs on the door and stepped back out of the path of the blast. He flipped a button on a remote. “Armed,” he reported.
“Breaching!” shouted Martin. “Now!” she ordered and a wave of pressure hit her body as the door rocked with an explosion.
Yates stepped forward and sent the door flying open with a powerful kick.
“Let’s move!” ordered Martin, turning and rushing into the building with her rifle at the ready. As she burst through the door, a Terillian soldier, already injured by the blast, swung his rifle toward her from the ground. She fired and three rounds tore into the soldier’s chest, killing him. “Clear!” she shouted as Shara and Yates entered behind her.
Martin quickly examined the room. To her left was a large double door with the Terillian word for administration on a plaque above it. In front of her, just past the body of the Terillian soldier, were two elevators. Looking to her right, she saw long passageway with a series of doors on the left side. The sign for the first door protruded from the wall, reading Access to upper levels.
“The stairs are there,” said Martin.
“Hold on, LT,” interrupted Yates.
“What is it, Sergeant?” asked Martin, anxious to get moving.
“They’ll expect us to take the stairs,” he replied, tilting his head toward the elevators.
‘Because we should,’ she thought. Then she thought about peering around the corner of the stairs above her with each step. The elevator might have its disadvantages, but it was worth a shot.
“Which floor do we—”
“Over here,” interjected Yates, pointing to a directory posted by the elevator. He ran his finger over the Terillian text. “Fourth floor…security, weapons, and detention wing…that looks like the place.”
As a blast from the battle outside shook the building, Martin ran her finger over the directory. “Fifth, floor communications and intel,” she said aloud, turning toward Sergeant Kilgore. “Kilgore, this is Martin, move to fifth floor and check for intel.”
“Roger,” replied Kilgore as he and his men rushed toward the stairway entrance in the long hallway.
“Fuck it,” continued Martin. “The elevator it is.” She punched the button to open the doors.
The doors slid open and Martin, Yates, and Shara leveled their weapons into the elevator.
It was empty. The three Guardsman stepped into the elevator and turned back toward the door, weapons in hand.
“Let’s go,” said Martin, pressing the illuminated Terillian symbol for the number four.
The door slid shut.
“If you’re too old to take the stairs, Sergeant,” said Shara, looking straight ahead toward the doors, “I could have just carried you.”
“That’d be hard to do with my boot up your ass, Shara,” replied Yates, also still staring at the elevator door.
The elevator pinged as it passed the second floor.
“Shit!” cursed Martin, seeing the light for the third floor flash. She took a defensive stance and readied her weapon.
The elevator stopped at the third floor. Martin dropped to her knee and brought her rifle to her shoulder as Yates and Shara readied themselves.
The door slid open.
Martin looked directly into the eyes of a Terillian officer. Behind him was a squad of regulars. The officer’s eyes opened wide and his mouth gaped as he fumbled for his pistol. Before he could draw his weapon, the metallic percussion of the Guardsmen’s rifles opening fire resonated through the elevator.
As the group of Terillians evapo
rated under the gunfire, one of them made a run toward the hallway to his right. Martin shifted her aim but saw Daemon leap forward in pursuit of the soldier.
A scream of agony replaced the sound of gunfire as the war dog caught up to his prey.
Martin stepped forward out of the elevator. A wounded Terillian rose from the pile of human wreckage to fire, but a blast from Shara’s rifle slammed the Terillian back onto the floor. Wading into the bodies of Terillians, Martin quickly scanned the passageway.
Daemon’s jaws were latched onto the Terillian’s neck as the massive dog shook its head violently, blood flying in all directions.
Martin looked toward Yates. “So the elevator?” she mused.
“They looked pretty surprised to see us, didn’t they,” replied Yates. “So I—”
The second elevator dinged, drawing Martin’s attention.
Turning toward the elevator, Martin saw a face painted with red and yellow diagonal stripes and a rifle leveled toward her.
“Cover!” she yelled as lead filled the air.
Martin rolled forward and sprung to her feet, rushing the elevator. The Terillian warrior swung his rifle toward Martin, but a quick kick forced his rifle toward the ceiling as it fired.
Martin grabbed her opponent’s rifle as she brought her knee toward his midsection. The Terillian grunted as her knee found its target, but he countered by grabbing her leg before she could get free.
The elevator door dinged again as the doors slid shut with the two warriors inside.
Her hands involved in the struggle for the rifle and her right leg wrapped up by the Terillian’s left arm, Martin brought her forehead down against her opponent’s nose. She heard the pop of the Terillian’s nose breaking but felt her feet leave the ground as the Scout Ranger lifted her into the air. Pain blasted through her spine and the air partially left her lungs as she slammed into the floor.
The Terillian’s counter had been effective but at a cost. His rifle lay at the other end of the elevator. The Ranger reached for the weapon, giving Martin an opportunity. And she knew his right arm was injured from their previous encounter.
She slammed her fist into the Terillian’s jaw with a grunt. As the warrior’s head snapped to the left, Martin twisted her torso and swung her right leg over her opponent’s head and her left underneath his arm and over his back. She pushed down with all of her strength as she forced his left arm flat over her chest. Her legs now locked around her enemy’s upper back, she slid her feet over his shoulder and arched her back to put pressure on his right arm.