“I think that would be a good idea sir.”
He slung the rifle and took the handset she offered him. “This is Captain Collis, I’ve got a whole goddamn battalion bearing down on my position along with some heavy armour and if you don’t pull your finger out of your ass and get me some damn air support we’re gonna have a lot of dead marines down here, are you hearing me sailor?”
There was the briefest of pauses, before a timid voice answered, “Yes sir but.”
Before they could finish Sam countered, “don’t but me son, I’m giving you a direct order, under standard military protocol, as the commanding officer on the ground, I have the command authority to order not only air cover but also orbital bombardment do you understand me?” his tone, suggesting it was more of a rhetorical question.
Once again the airwaves were silent for an instance before the disembodied voice replied hoarsely, as if the words themselves were catching in his throat, “Yes sir I do. However fleet has ordered me to only accept requests from the gold commander on the ground.”
Sam took in a deep breath and lowered his tone, trying to calm the ire that was raging within him. “Listen to me very carefully son, I take it you know who I am?”
“Yes sir,” the voice spluttered.
“Good, well then you know that I don’t sign a credit slip that I can’t cash, so you get me my air support and fire missions, or when this is over I’m going to find you and throw you out of the nearest airlock without a suit on and see how no atmosphere treats you.”
For a second only silence reigned, then the speaker trembled, “No sir that’s ok, it was obviously my mistake, here you are on the gold command list after all.”
“You see now wasn’t that easy.” Sam passed the handset back to Kate, then brought up the rifle again and activated the viewfinder. “Coordinates are forty-six by twenty-one Zulu, tell them to bring it in hot, we have enemy armour and troops in the open, fire for effect.”
“Roger that sir,” Kate responded as she keyed the handset. “This is trench line alpha, fire mission over, coordinates forty-six by twenty-one Zulu, request full strike package Charlie, bring it in close we have hostiles closing in on our position.”
Sam slung the weapon and stared up just in time to catch sight of the ten sleek arrow shaped aircraft burn through the stratosphere, and begin their bombing runs. The enemy troops would never hear them, or even know that they were there until it was too late, that was one of the things about orbital bombers. He regarded the ships in hushed reverence as they loosed their deadly payloads, hundreds of small black cylinders tore through the clouds and slammed into the ground around the Separatists forces; a brief pause followed, the calm before the storm, and then the weapons detonated. Waves of lucent, living and breathing flames swept over everything, feasting, melting metal, and searing flesh to bone. Even from this distance the carnage was clear to see. He almost felt a stab of regret as he envisaged the suffering he had just caused, yet there was no time for such ideals.
“Rusty tell them to drop it back, point two clicks we have troops in the open.” Sam ordered as he continued to witness the onslaught. He took no pleasure in killing, it was simply his job and in the basest terms it was better them than his troops.
“Roger that sir,” Kate replied as she once again dialled in her coms unit. “Air one this is trench line alpha, drop it back point two clicks and deploy strike package omega we have troops in the open.”
A voice crackled back through the static, “this is Air one, you better keep your heads down, we’re gonna light them up”
“That’s a Roger Air one, good hunting.” Kate responded the slightest sneer visible.
Sam shifted his gaze again to the horizon, he noted for the most fleeting moments, the twin suns that lit this torrid world begin to set, bathing the firmament in shades of light purples, amber and peach in some other place, at some other time, he might have even found it beautiful, however with the fetor of decay still seared within his nostrils that was impossible. He had seen a holo painting once, in the ruins of what had been an art gallery, on some World, whose name he couldn’t remember and to this day he was still shocked at how life like the artist had been able to make it look. How he had been able to capture such breath-taking splendour, with simply a virtual brush and canvas.
He brought the rifle back up and beheld through the viewfinder the detritus strewn battlefield. Thick plumes of caustic, black and mercury smoke obscured some of his vision, yet he could spy some of the Separatists soldiers as they continued to advance, simply trampling over the still burning bodies of their comrades. He observed some of the enemy pivot their heads skywards just as the orbital bombers dropped their payloads, ten large spheres ablaze, burnt through the ether like meteors vented from the cold expanse of space. Within a few seconds they impacted the ground, followed almost instantly by a sea of burning, sky blue plasma which covered almost the entire plan. It appeared to him to be like some apocalyptic act of a vengeful god.
Sam clicked the viewer off, he had no need to see what was going to happen and he could picture it clear enough within his own psyche. It was then that the inhuman wails, echoed across the plateau before they were overtaken by the wave of super-heated blast wave which pommelled him. It was the reek which it brought in its wake that was most disturbing, the almost sweet-smelling smack of burning flesh and hair. It was hard to truly describe its foulness to someone who had the luck not to have any experience with it. To him it always had the scent of exotically spiced meat upon some distant barbeque, which would make anyone question their own eating habits.
“That’s it sir watch those bastards burn” Kate proclaimed as she stared out towards the impassable wall of azure fire. The glee and vitriol that doused her voice, troubled Sam, maybe because part of him felt it too. Sometimes the hardest thing to hold onto within this nightmare of constant war, was not only your humanity, but your empathy, because if you started to forget that, then, really how different were you from the foe that you fought.
A noise behind him, caused such highbrow thought to cease. He swung round, drawing one of his pistol, what he found wasn’t the enemy. It was a small, frail women, her uniform, torn and ragged. Dusky maroon blood, was running down the side of her face, while her hair was matted with brain tissue.
“Captain” she managed to splutter, before she slumped to the ground.
“Medic!” Sam shouted as he caught the young marine in his arms and laid her down gently on the rough soil.
She grabbed hold of his hand and held it tightly. Her whole body shock and she coughed up a mouthful of bloody foam. One eye, that was still open, fixed on him. “Its second platoon,” she managed to spit, before her body was ravished by another coughing fit, her grip on his hand grew tightened. “We’re being overrun, the coms are all down.”
“Save your strength soldier,” Sam smiled, trying to offer some comfort. “Where’s the fucking medic!” he screamed, rage and anger clear in equal measure.
The young soldier, closed her eye and whispered. “Don’t worry Captain, I’m finally going home.” Her grasp tightened for the briefest moment, then her body shuddered and went limp. Her hand relaxed and he let it drop into the carmine dirt.
“Did she say, that second platoon are being overrun?” Kate asked timidly.
Sam didn’t answer, instead he just stared down at the face, of this Unknown Soldier, a thin, smile in such contrast to the sanguine fluid that still gushed from her head wounds. He reached his hand out and barred her eyes tenderly.
“Captain?” Kate’s voice again, this time more pressing.
“Yeah,” Sam retorted, still lost within the young girls face, he pulled the sleeve of his camouflaged jacket down and tried to wipe some of the gore from her face. “Get me Naomi, here now.”
Sam didn’t listen out for a reply, he stood up and forced his eyes away from the dead women. He had to keep his head in the game, he still had troopers in harm’s way and he had to try and save as ma
ny of them as he could. This young soldier had given her life to carry the message and he wasn’t going to let another brave soul be lost in vain.
He clicked the tactical display, on his portable computer and a sluggish three-dimensional map burst to life. He sniggered derisively as he thought of the basic equipment that they were forced to fight this war with, jerry rigging weapons and computers together with wires, and masking tape. He studied the map diligently and saw that second platoon, were about three clicks to the East of his position, holding a section of high ground, just in front of a major conurbation. If they were overrun, then not only were any civilian’s that might be sheltering in the habitation blocks be slaughtered, but also the enemy could outflank his troops and then they would have another goddamn massacre. He wasn’t sure that he could take seeing any more of his marines die today, he had to make sure that they held that location.
“Stalker, you called,” A delicate, feminine voice, with a crisp accent, attracted his attention.
He whirled round to find Sergeant second class Naomi “Crash down” Hawkins, her assault rifle clasped nonchalantly in the crook of her arm. Even now with her face caked with dried mud, rust and grime, and hair dirty and unkempt, she still appeared to him like an angel given form. She was petite, her light copper skin wrapped around a lean body, more suited to a dancer than a soldier. Yet what she may have lacked in stature she made up for in heart and spirit. She was whip-smart and although she had only been with the company for a year, already she was one of the best soldiers that he had. She carried herself with an elegance and poise that he was unused to, he knew little about her life before the Corp except that she had been born and raised on one of the core planets, how she had managed to find her way to this hell, wasn’t a question he wanted to raise, as it was clear it wasn’t something that she was comfortable discussing.
He was caught for an instance, lost within her, placid hazel eyes, that made him think of honey, his mother had put on his cereal, in a time before her demon had fully taken her.
Naomi favoured him with a beaming smile, which caused fissures to form in the muck that covered her cheeks. “You did call me handsome?” her tone, was as always natural and warm.
“Sorry,” He whispered as he strode closer to her, he stretched his hand out softly and ran it over her cheek. “It’s just good to see you that’s all,” his own slight grin, was heavy and laden with emotion.
“It’s been a hard day for everyone,” She reached up her own free hand and laid it on his cheek, the feel of her skin upon his was charged.
“It’s going to get worse,” he murmured. “Second platoon are being overrun, I need you to take third and fourth company and reinforce them.” His tone doubtful, now she was in front of him, he didn’t want to let her out of his sight, but first and foremost she was a soldier. She wouldn’t want him to treat her any differently, than any other Marine, however much he might want to.
“You got it,” her answer, so simple, so crisp. No questions, no doubts, which was one of the things that he loved about her, her inner strength that often dwarfed his own.
He peered into those eyes and once again was almost entranced. “Listen,” he lowered his tone, “You hold that position for as long as you can, but if you can’t, you pull back.” He brought his other hand up and took her head, tentatively in his hands. “You get out and try and get back here. If you can’t, then make for the space ports, they have a few camouflaged shuttles just in case we have to get the brass and any VIP’s off the planet.”
“And what about you?”
“You don’t worry about me, just promise me you will?”
She shook her head and chuckled, there was no teasing or malice in it, just genuine feeling. “Is that something you would tell another one of your sergeants?”
His lips curled, “Well only if they were as hot as you.”
“Really and are there any?” she teased.
“Well Serena has got that look about her, if only I was a member of the sex she was interested in.” He grinned like a teenager, then his tone shifted. “Seriously though, promise me.”
Her own beam returned, “You know I can’t” her hand moved down to her stomach. “However much I might want to, I am still a Marine and I couldn’t leave here without you anyway.”
He could tell, there was something more. “What aren’t you telling me?” he queried nervously.
“I wanted to tell you this morning,” she stammered obviously searching for the right words, “But then this battle started and I know this isn’t the right time.” Tears began to well in her eyes.
“What is it?” He begged.
“I’m pregnant,” she managed to croak.
He was frozen, thought crashed and exploded like fireworks within his head. Emotions came in waves, joy, fear, excitement, dread and worry. The one thing that was clear, was that he hoped she hadn’t told anyone. The Empire was clear about this, serving Marines weren’t allowed children, so those that might happen to fall pregnant were given a stark choice, get rid of the baby, or carry it to term and then give it away.
“Did you tell anyone?” he blurted, without even thinking how cold his own timbre must have sounded.
“No, I went to see Doc.” She replied curtly.
He drew in a shallow lungful of air and sought to calm himself. That was good, Doc was the medic for fourth platoon, she was a good woman and he knew she wouldn’t tell anyone. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and pulled her close to him, both there weapons got in the way, so it wasn’t much of proper hug, yet he held onto her anyway. “I love you,” he manage to say.
“Are you happy?”
He leaned back slightly so he could see her full countenance, “of course I am.” He beamed, “I just got worried that’s all.” He started laughing, “Of course I am happy, I don’t think I could get any happier.” He bowed forward and kissed her.
“I know it wasn’t the right time to tell you, but I just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.” She dried her eyes and managed to wipe away some of the grime as well.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do,” He said. “But everything will be ok, I will make sure of that.”
She looked at him and he could see her heart laid bare for him to see. “I know it will be, I love you,” She purred. “Now I have got a second platoon to relieve.”
He couldn’t respond for a minute and when he managed to find the words, they felt awkward. “No don’t worry, I will find someone else, I don’t want you on the front.”
Her stare found him and once again he could feel her strength and power. “There is no one else, whatever happens with this baby, I’m a Marine and if we don’t hold the line then we all die, I can still do my job.”
“I know you can,” he muttered defensively. “But I don’t want you too, I didn’t like it when you were on the line before and now that you’re carrying my child.”
She didn’t let him finish. “I love you baby, you know that, but you know I’m going,” there was no irritation, in her voice, yet already he knew the argument was over, with all his own power and authority, he knew who was really in charge at least out here.
“Fight or die,” he replied hoarsely.
“Fight or die,” She came close and wrapped her thin arms around him. He took her head in his hands.
“Make sure you come back to me.” There was so much more that he wanted to say, to tell her. Yet to him, feelings were not something that he dealt with easily. For so long in his life he had been alone, he supposed he had almost forgotten how to truly connect with another human being.
“I will, you make sure that you’re here when I come back.” She kissed him and then broke away and raced off, towards the sound of fighting.
He felt sheer terror, worm its way into his gut, clawing and ripping at his insides. Like a rodent attempting to flee its cage, until he thought that he might vomit. He turned away and centred his mind on the battle that was to come. While at the same time making plans,
this would be his last battle for this miserable Empire, after this, he would find a way off this planet and perhaps find a place he could raise his family and find some peace. He was under no misconception, it would not be easy and there was a chance that he wouldn’t live to see his child borne, yet the one thing that he could make sure of, was that Naomi and their unborn babe were granted a reprieve from this place and this never-ending conflict. He would make sure of that, if it was the last thing he ever did.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Inside the trench, Simon “Bear” Telsieell grabbed the hulking Separatist, like he was some kind of rag doll and threw him against the mud wall. He knelt down and picked up his blood-splattered rifle from the floor and in a single fluid motion brought it to bear on the enemy soldier. It was a man, that was clear, yet it was barely still human. Hollow, gun-metal grey eyes stared back at him wildly, while, vivid flaps of tissue that may have been its nostrils once flared with fury. Angry, plum flesh, that at some point could have been lips, seemed to crease into a garish snarl, which revealed not only rotting teeth, but also weeping gums that were covered in postulated sores.
For some reason Simon pictured the boars, his father had raised on their farm back home. Neurons stirred and memories awakened. He would have been little over nine years old, helping work the homestead, on one of those long summer afternoons that seemed to him then to last forever. His little brother Luke, would have been no more than four, he had been playing a stupid game of dare and had somehow stumbled into the pen, where the male hogs were kept separate. Without thinking he had leapt in after him, only to find Luke lying in the filth, tears streaming down his blanched cheeks, with a jagged fragment of bone jutting out of through his shin.
It was then that he had turned and seen the immense beast staring at them, the same wide eyed stare, same nostrils splayed, just before it had charged them, teeth gnashing, and tusks rearing. Simon hadn’t thought, he had simply acted, purely out of instinct, to protect his brother that was all that had mattered to him and the same was true now. So many years later and millions of light years from the planet they had called home and from the farm he had cherished.
The Last Foxhole (The Forgotten War Saga Book 1) Page 7