by Isaac Hooke
“Anyone have any grenades left?” Rade said.
“I do,” a Marine said.
“Use it!”
The Marine was perched in the passenger seat of Bender’s mech; she leaped down, threaded between the mechs of Rade, Fret and Trace, then threw the grenade past Harlequin’s legs before hitching a ride on that final Titan.
The cave behind them filled with dust as the grenade exploded.
“Did you collapse it?” Rade asked.
“Dunno,” the Marine said. “Slowed them, either way.”
Rade picked up the pace, as did Bender, Trace and Harlequin, and caught up with the rest of the platoon. The Titans reached a rightward curving bend and quickly lost sight of the dust and enemies behind them. As the platoon members continued through that twisting and turning tunnel, the worms could sometimes be heard behind them, the chittering of their mandibles and the skittering of their segmented feet echoing between the loud footfalls of the Titans.
“The passage ends in a wall,” Manic said from his position on point. “I’m going to try walking through it.” A moment later: “Yep. Another illusion. Who knows how many of them the enemy has placed in these tunnels?”
Rade reached the illusory wall and marched right past it into a wider tunnel that trended perpendicular to it. According to the overhead map, he had just emerged into the original passageway the party had taken down in the first place, and the entrance resided only a short distance from Manic on point.
“Is the map right?” Bomb said.
“It has to be,” TJ said.
“The fact the slope matches the thirty degree angle of the original is a good sign,” Snakeoil said.
Harlequin emerged from the illusory wall, firing his cobra one last time behind him as he did so.
“Keep moving, people,” Rade said.
The platoon hurried upward, and soon found themselves wading through the bodies of dead bioengineered creatures.
As the corpses thickened, Manic said: “I can see it! The opening! We’re almost out! I can’t believe it! We made it! We made it.”
Sure enough, light began to stream inside from an opening ahead. Rade increased his pace through the corpses of hornheads and gatorpedes.
Standing at the lip of the entrance, two ATLAS mechs looked down at the Titans with weapons at the ready. The pulse platforms lining the perimeter tracked every movement of the approaching platoon.
“Coming in hot, sentries!” Rade said. “Don’t think those platforms are going to be enough. I’d suggest calling in backup.”
“Roger that, “ Gunnery Sergeant MacKay transmitted. “Glad to see you proved me wrong.”
“Defensive positions,” Rade said as he emerged. He crouched outside the opening and aimed his weapon into the tunnel.
A moment later the voice of Lieutenant Colonel Harlan came over the comm.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Lieutenant Colonel Harlan said. “Never thought you fools would return to the outpost again. So did you destroy the command and control?”
“No,” Rade said.
“Figured. I want to see you in my tent immediately for the debriefing.”
“I’m helping defend the outpost, sir,” Rade said. “Can’t we do it later? Or remotely?”
“Our mutual boys can handle it. Now get your ass inside my tent so you can properly debrief me.”
Rade hesitated. Then: “TJ, you’re in command. Help stave off the worms.”
“Will do, boss,” TJ replied.
“Jerry, is it safe for me to get out here?” Rade wanted his Titan to aid in the defense at least, if the radiation levels allowed it...
“I would recommend traveling into the outpost,” the AI replied. “Where the magnetic field emissions from the carriers and geodesic domes are stronger.”
So much for that idea.
Rade hurried toward the outpost. Tahoe remained clinging to his Titan, while Luxe and Paxon dismounted to join in the attack.
“Don’t want to fight, Tahoe?” Rade asked.
“Buddy system,” Tahoe explained.
As other ATLAS mechs and infantry troops rushed to defend the pit, Rade entered the outpost and made his way across the snowpack toward the command tent. He could hear the pulse platforms, and the mechs, opening fire behind him.
Rade dismounted beside the main geodesic dome and entered; Tahoe and the Titan assumed guard positions outside, joining the lone ATLAS mech that had remained behind.
Rade debriefed the lieutenant colonel, describing their journey through the tunnel, the attack by the robot spider, the meeting with the Sentience in the city, and the clones that aided in the escape. He relayed the precise coordinates of the underground cave city as determined by his Implant—for any future digger attacks—and also transmitted the full exchange he had recorded with the Sentience.
As he spoke, Rade kept glancing distractedly at the action taking place on the overhead map. It seemed that the blue dots surrounding the opening were keeping the emerging red dots at bay.
“Here’s the deal,” Harlan said when Rade was done. “Another messenger arrived an hour ago. We’re clearing out at oh nine hundred. As soon as we’re done repelling the latest wave, gather up your men and prepare to pull out. We’re going home, kiddo.”
“Wait, what?” Rade blinked in disbelief.
“That’s right,” the lieutenant colonel said. “We’ve done our bit here. Paid our dues. We’re returning to the fleet.”
“How are we getting into orbit?”
“Same way we got here. Armored carriers will take us to the troop shuttles waiting twenty kilometers to the east. Once we board, we’ll skim the surface, traveling the necessary hundreds of kilometers until we’re out of range of the majority of their defenses, and then we’ll thrust into orbit while the fleet deploys decoys to cover our ascent.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Rade said. “Shouldn’t we be building a forward operating base or something? Digging in for the long fight ahead of us?”
Harlan gestured toward the geodesic dome around him. “This could be called a forward operating base.”
“More like a combat outpost,” Rade said. “I was thinking of something a little bit more permanent.”
“If we wanted to spare the enemy, maybe,” Harlan said. “But I have the impression fleet wants to launch the last of their nukes, soften them up a bit first.”
“What’s the point if we don’t have any digger nukes left?” Rade asked. “We’ll cause a few cave-ins to damage their underground city, and that’s about it. By the time more digger inventory arrives, the enemy will have relocated.”
Harlan shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe they’ll nuke this hole, and then enlarge it with their heavy lasers until they break through to the city.”
“That will take quite a while. Enough time for the enemy to evacuate, anyway.”
“Well like I said, I don’t know,” Harlan replied. “If I did, I’d be up there cozy in one of those starships, not down here on this icy ball of frozen shit. Now go back to your men and prepare to retrogade.” He cocked his head. “You hear that? Seems the battle is over. We successfully repelled the enemy once again. No losses to our side, other than a few destroyed platforms.”
Rade listened. Sure enough, he no longer heard any shouts, explosions or other sounds of battle. He glanced at the overhead map. No red dots streamed from the opening, and the blue dots were dispersing. He had only looked away from the map for maybe thirty seconds and already the battle was done.
Rade loaded back into his Titan, then he and Tahoe rendezvoused with Alpha Platoon.
“Ha!” Bomb said. “You punks missed the greatest battle ever.”
“You didn’t miss a thing,” Trace said. “That was a slaughter back there, is what it was.”
“That’s exactly why it was the greatest battle,” Bomb said. “You can’t get any better than that. Shooting down aliens that keep running at your guns. With little to no risk to yourself. That’s my kind of battle.
”
“Not mine,” Trace said.
“Nor mine,” Skullcracker agreed.
“You’re just pissed because there was no sport to it,” Bomb said. “Killing for you has to be stimulating, apparently. But I have to say I enjoyed myself. I was entertained. I amused myself in my own way. Trying to make an alien head explode in a certain direction. Or an alien body split in half laterally down the middle, rather than sideways. Ahh... killing aliens. I’d do it all day, every day, if I could. Doing my part to make the galaxy a better place for the children.”
“So what’s the news, boss?” Mauler said.
“Apparently we’re pulling out at oh nine hundred,” Rade said.
“No way,” Manic said.
“Yep, we’re done here,” Rade said.
“Feels like we’ve only just arrived,” Skullcracker said.
“Not for me,” Fret said. “Feels like it’s been a lifetime.”
“Why would we be pulling out?” Trace asked. “The mission is hardly complete.”
“The lieutenant colonel thinks the fleet wants to launch the rest of their nukes,” Rade said. “And maybe wait until some more digger nukes arrive.”
“You know what that means, don’t you?” Bender said. “We might not be coming back down here.”
“I won’t miss it,” Fret said.
Rade didn’t blame him. While he hated leaving a mission uncompleted, Rade was with Fret in wanting to get the hell out. But he wasn’t about to admit that to the rest of the platoon.
“I have to agree with Skullcracker,” Lui said. “I feel like we haven’t really accomplished anything. Other than kill a few aliens.”
“How is that different from most wars?” Tahoe said.
thirty-two
Rade sent Tahoe to the supply depot to see if he could exchange his MOTH-issue jumpsuit for a better armored Marine one, as Rade didn’t want him exposed to the elevated radiation levels out there for longer than absolutely necessary, even if the local magnetic field generators countered much of it. Then he gathered the rest of the platoon and led them just outside the outpost at the muster point to wait for the pull out.
Geodesic domes were taken down, and armored carriers and mechs slowly trundled into place beside Alpha Platoon. While that was taking place, Rade debriefed the platoon fully, sharing footage taken by his Implant of the underground city, and playing back the message from the Sentience.
When that was done, he asked a major about the status of Chief Facehopper and the bodies of their fallen; the commanding officer pointed him to the appropriate armored carriers. Rade found Facehopper still unconscious, tended to by a dedicated Weaver. He had been transferred to a Marine jumpsuit to protect him from the radiation, and his body temperature had been drastically lowered, essentially placing him in stasis. It was the only way to prolong his life long enough to receive the medical care he needed aboard a starship.
There were other bed-stricken individuals; though he couldn’t tell because of the jumpsuits, he suspected many of them had amputated arms and legs, as the local medical unit had no bioprinting facilities. The lot of them had IV lines trailing from the injection area of their gloves. Some had miniature heart-lung machines attached to their chest assemblies.
Next Rade went in search of his fallen brothers. Luxe joined him. He asked the mortuary affairs robot in charge of the casualty collection carriers to show him the manifest, and he confirmed that Grappler, Keelhaul and the lost Marines had been loaded. He forced the robot to open up the body bags. The fallen remained inside their jumpsuits, their features pale and frozen behind their faceplates.
Keelhaul’s body was held inside a different carrier reserved for infected units. When the robot retrieved him, Rade was taken aback by the face that stared back at him. While Grappler’s expression had been one of peace, Keelhaul’s was one of pain and terror—his jaw was clenched, his teeth bared in a rictus, his eyebrows furrowed together in a v-shape. The sight disturbed Rade greatly.
I fired the shot that did this.
He banished the thought from his mind. He had had no choice. He’d made the best decision he could, given the circumstances and the information available to him.
And I’d do it again, if I had to, he told himself. He wasn’t sure he believed it. He only hoped what had happened wouldn’t drive him to inaction in similar circumstances someday.
When he and Luxe had confirmed the presence of their departed brothers and sisters, the pair returned to the platoon.
By 0830 the outpost was completely dismantled and the whole battalion had gathered at the muster point. The troops idled there, fidgeting for half an hour before the lieutenant colonel finally gave the order to set out upon the snowdrift-covered plains at 0900 on the dot.
Armored carriers led the way, creating a tread-marked path of snowpack for the following troops. The weather was clear, though the leaden sky maintained its usual grumpy overcast. When they eventually reached the pick-up site, those carriers and mechs would board large shuttles designed to carry their load. Rade doubted there would be room for all of them: some of the vehicles would probably have to be abandoned, detonated so as not to fall into enemy hands.
Tahoe had found himself a new Marine-issue jumpsuit, and he was hitching a ride on the external rungs of Rade’s Titan along with some Marines. Shortly after departing the outpost, Rade told him: “Lose that alien tracker.”
“With pleasure,” Tahoe replied.
Rade saw the device spiral off into the distance as Tahoe threw it with all the force of his exoskeleton. It quickly vanished from view.
“Shouldn’t have accepted it in the first place,” Tahoe said. “If you ask me.”
“If the aliens want to attack,” Rade said. “At least that tracker will throw them off course. Somewhat.”
“Sure,” Tahoe said. “Until they discover the wide, flagrant trail we’re leaving in the snow.”
“Good point.” Rade zoomed in on the two armored platoons acting as forward scouts for the battalion. The snow was untouched beyond them. Odd.
“Captain,” Rade sent the nearest company commander. “Is this the same overland route your battalion took on the way here?”
“No,” the Marine returned. “We’re farther south by twenty klicks. Why?”
Rade frowned. “Just wondering.”
“Scouts reported enemy activity along the original route a few days ago,” the captain sent. “The LC thought it prudent to avoid it.”
“Probably a good idea...”
“You don’t really think we’re going to be attacked, do you boss?” Harlequin said. “When we were alone it made sense. But now that we’re a part of a battalion it doesn’t seem logical.”
“Don’t give me your logic,” Bomb said. “Just don’t. Nothing about these aliens is logical. Remember the tunnel behind us? Logic didn’t stop them from streaming out of that hole to their deaths, despite the platforms and mechs and all those troops hellbent on some alien bloodsport.”
“But in that case the aliens were forced on the defensive because of the proximity of the battalion to their city,” Harlequin said. “Releasing just enough bioengineered creatures to deter the troops from entering. But out here on the plains, what is there to defend?”
“Yeah, come on, Bomb,” Fret said, his voice oozing sarcasm. “It’s a routine march across a hostile alien homeworld. What could possibly go wrong?”
“Ha,” Bomb said. “Famous last words.”
The battalion passed by the remains of a fallen herd of those Titan-sized, shaggy wildebeest creatures Rade and his platoon had encountered shortly after landing on the planet. The bodies were frozen into the snow along the route, half-covered by the drifts. Icy tongues lolled from permanently open mouths. The hair had fallen out in clumps from some of them, revealing porcelain skin underneath.
The march across that bleak terrain was estimated to last an hour. Rade and the others remained on their guard, as did the rest of the Marines, constantly scan
ning the far horizons for signs of attack.
When they were five kilometers from the pick-up site, the dreaded attack finally came. But it did not arrive from either of the four horizons, but from somewhere far closer.
thirty-three
The snow literally opened up beside the battalion, falling inward as a massive, gargantuan creature awakened. Giant red-haired tentacles unfurled, wrapping around armored carriers and hoisting them into the air. Four long necks topped by huge, viperine heads burst upward from the snow behind those tentacles, sourced from a body covered by a hard black shell. That body was the size of three auditoriums, and those necks towered over the party like office buildings. Three slitted, yellowish orbs situated above the maws of every head seemed to serve as eyes.
It was a bioengineered creature unlike anything he had ever witnessed before. A true bioweapon.
The armored carriers opened fire with lasers, missiles, electrolasers, jellied gasoline, the works.
“Fire!” Rade said, though he didn’t have to, as most of the Titans had already joined in.
The massive creature didn’t seem to notice the assault. It continued to lift those carriers towards its different heads. Snake-like maws opened, and Marines jetted free as the objects plunged inside cavernous gullets coated in green slime. Those mouths closed and the carriers vanished. The necks were so massive that no external lumps marked the peristaltic motion of the swallowed vehicles.
Some of the slime dripped down from one of those maws and landed on a hapless ATLAS mech. That slime dissolved through the hull in seconds, forcing the Marine pilot to eject. Only a steaming mass was left in place of the former ATLAS.
As the battalion continued its pummeling, the gargantuan reared two of its heads and unleashed a terrible roar. The other two heads swung ponderously across the battalion, releasing sprays of acid in concentrated streams, cutting twin swaths of destruction through the ranks.
The hairy tentacles unfurled again, snatching up more troop carriers, and this time mechs. Rade dodged one of these tentacles himself, hastily moving aside as the searching limb plowed into the snowpack. Somehow he didn’t think the Lighter would have any effect if it grabbed him.