by P. A. Piatt
“Nesbitt.”
Beck practically shouted in his ear. “They found a Space Marine!”
“What? Who?”
“The Space Marines. The guy they found in the jungle. He’s a Space Marine!”
Nesbitt swung his feet off his bunk and sat up. “Where are you, Beck?”
“I’m in the office.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Ten minutes later, Nesbitt walked into the office complex and found Beck hunched over a sheaf of papers in a file folder.
“What have you got there?”
“We intercepted the latest report from the Space Marines. Remember the individual they found in the jungle, the guy we thought was a miner? He isn’t a miner, he’s a Space Marine from Bravo Company.”
“Bullshit.”
“That’s what it says, right here.” Beck slid the papers over to Nesbitt and pointed to a highlighted section. “Staff Sergeant Marcus Lily, ISMC, Bravo Company.”
Nesbitt read down through the report.
“This can’t be. We killed all of them, remember?”
“He claims he broke out of the flagship brig and stowed away on a dropship. Bravo Company never knew he was here. When we attacked, he hid in the jungle and got away.”
“Seven years alone in the jungle?” Nesbitt rubbed his eyes with thumb and forefinger. “It sounds incredible to me.”
“Keep reading, especially the part about sneaking into the colony.”
Nesbitt continued to read the report with interest. When he got to the section about how close the trackers had come to the Space Marine patrol, he shook his head.
“We almost had them. We almost fucking had them.”
Nesbitt finished reading the report and slid it across to Beck.
“This didn’t go out, right?”
“It did, but not on the proper frequency. Fleet won’t receive it.”
The two men traded frowns.
“What do we do now?” Nesbitt knew the answer, but he wanted to hear the GRC executive say it.
Beck shrugged. “What choice do we have?” He stood up and snapped his binder shut. “Kill them all.”
* * *
Fortis, Pell, Hawkins, Kramer, and Ystremski gathered on the roof of the command mech. Doc Weinberg remained in the medical ward to monitor Kilfoy.
“You’re all aware that Kilfoy’s condition is deteriorating.” Fortis looked around the group and they all nodded. “Doc Kramer has done everything he can to get her infection under control short of additional surgery, which is the last resort.” He let that information sink in. “He has requested we go to the GRC camp and ask them for help.”
Hawkins raised a hand and looked at Kramer. “You want to ask for help from the same guys who chased us all over the jungle?”
“Yeah, I do. I don’t think we have much choice, Gunny. Kilfoy is dying, and she won’t make it to extraction if I can’t slow this infection down.” His breath caught in his throat, and he gave a ragged sigh. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her alive.”
Pell spoke up. “They chased you because you killed one of their test tubes. We don’t even know if they knew they were chasing Space Marines.”
Hawkins snorted, and Ystremski buried a smile in his hands.
Fortis put his hands up to stop them. “This isn’t the time for an argument. Time’s wasting, and we… well, I need to decide very soon about Doc’s request. Do we go or not?” He pointed to Ystremski.
“I say go,” said Ystremski. “If there’s a remote chance they’ve got something that can help, it’s worth the risk.”
Pell nodded. “I agree. If we don’t, we’re giving up on Kilfoy, and she deserves better.”
“You know where I stand,” added Kramer.
Fortis looked at Hawkins. “Gunny?”
Hawkins looked around at the faces of the other Marines. “I’m with them, I guess, but we can’t go over there with three or four guys. We need to send a couple squads.”
Fortis stood up. “That settles it. We’ll send a patrol to the GRC base and see if they will provide some assistance.”
Pell stood up. “I’d like to lead the patrol, if it’s okay with you. Kilfoy is one of mine, and I’ve been cooped up on this compound too long.” She smiled. “Who knows, maybe the feminine touch will get the GRC to cooperate.”
Ystremski stood next to her. “I’ll go. I’ve already been over there, and I know the way. If that’s okay with you, Gunny?”
Hawkins nodded. “Yeah. Take two squads from Third Platoon and I’ll keep Winaki and First Platoon here. Lily stays here, too. I don’t want them to get a look at him, just in case.” He motioned to Fortis. “Sir, can I get a minute?”
* * * * *
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Our basic plan is to let the bugs do the heavy lifting and then mop up behind them.” Nesbitt pointed to a hologram of the Space Marines base. “They have surrounded their base with sensors in the jungle, about ten meters deep. Motion sensors, sound monitors, maybe some cameras. They’ll have some early warning, but it won’t do much good.
“A small advance force, led by Brinks, will travel to Mine Shaft Number Two. They will prepare the thumper and plant explosives around the shaft entrance to blow it open. We only need one thump, so take enough troops to lift it manually.
“After we blow the cap off Mine Shaft Number Two and drop the thumper, we will set off a string of small charges in the jungle toward the Marine base. That should be enough to get the bugs swarming that way. Whatever else happens, get out of the way as soon as you drop the thumper because the bugs will be coming.
“The main assault force will stage in the jungle east of the base. Beck will watch the action on our surveillance cameras. When he gives the all-clear signal, we’ll send in the main assault force.”
Beck and the assembled mercenaries examined the hologram and started to ask questions.
“Where will you be, Nesbitt?”
“I’ll be with the main assault force east of the base.”
“How many troops in the main assault force?”
“I don’t see any reason to hold any back, so I’ll take the entire force. We’ll need the manpower to deal with the cleanup afterward.”
Beck interjected, “Leave some behind, if you don’t mind? Perhaps fifty?”
Nesbitt nodded, then waited for the next question.
“What’s your plan for the cleanup?”
“That depends on the bugs. If they swarm as expected, we won’t have much to do besides take pictures. If we have to move in to finish them, there will be bodies with bullet holes to deal with, plus our own casualties. The cleanup becomes more difficult as our troop involvement increases.
“How much time do we have to execute this plan?” Nesbitt asked, then he looked at Beck, who shrugged.
“I believe we have five days before the Fleet returns to recover their Marines. That said, we will move as soon as we can.”
The room fell silent.
“If there aren’t any more questions, let’s get moving. Team leaders, you know what you need to do. Brinks, leave as soon as you get your team assembled. I intend to move out with the main force in four hours.”
* * *
Hawkins waited until everyone had climbed down from the roof of the mech before he spoke.
“LT, what the fuck are you doing? Taking a vote before issuing orders? This is the ISMC, not a democracy.”
“It wasn’t really a vote. I polled the senior leadership to find out where they stood on the issue of asking the GRC for help.”
“Really? What would your decision have been if we had all said we were against it?”
“Well… I guess I would have decided not to go.”
“Then you took a vote.”
“Hmm…No, not—I mean—Look. If I ask them to risk their lives, I think they should have some say in it.”
“No! Absolutely not! LT, you were given the power of life and death over those Marines the day yo
u accepted your commission. It’s up to you to decide how best to use them to accomplish your mission, and if it means some of them die, then so be it. It’s your job. DINLI.” He gestured at the compound. “These Marines will shoulder any burden and suffer any hardship to complete the mission, but they’ll only do it if they have confidence their efforts won’t be wasted. When you take a vote, you tell them that you don’t have confidence in the plan or the mission.”
“But, Gunny, it was just us.”
“It doesn’t matter, sir. Don’t do it. Trust me, when we get back to the company, and you’re in a planning meeting with the colonel or the CO, you will never be asked to vote on a course of action. You may be asked your opinion, but you’ll never be asked to vote. Just don’t do it.”
Fortis’ cheeks burned with embarrassment. Gunny Hawkins was right; he had taken a vote. He sighed and shook his head. For the hundredth time since he completed his training, he discovered there was still a lot more to learn about being an ISMC officer.
* * *
Third Platoon snaked eastward through the jungle toward the GRC headquarters camp. Ystremski was behind the point man to push the pace, and the patrol moved rapidly through the dense undergrowth. Pell and Ystremski had agreed they wanted to arrive at the GRC base before sundown, so rapid movement was required. They had headed due east to skirt the heavy jungle between the two camps and planned to turn straight south when they were directly north of the other camp.
Ystremski dialed up the leadership channel.
“Warrant, are you okay back there?”
“I’m okay.” Pell sounded out of breath.
“Let’s take five, I could use a spell.”
“Sounds good.”
They halted and the line of Space Marines spread out into the brush, weapons at the ready. Ystremski made his way down the line and stopped to check on each platoon member. He found Warrant Pell and Doc Kramer seated together.
“All good here?”
Warrant Pell gave a breathless chuckle. “I didn’t feel the gravity sitting on my ass in camp.”
Ystremski nodded and gave her a thumbs up. “It takes a while to get used to it.” He stood and motioned toward the back of the patrol. “We’ll move out after I check on the rest of the platoon.”
* * *
Ten minutes after the rear guard of Pell’s patrol disappeared to the east, the jungle around their resting place came alive. Brinks and the GRC advance force emerged from their hiding places near the trail and gathered in a tight knot.
“That was close!” exclaimed one of the mercenaries. “Where do you think they’re going?”
“It’s not our problem,” replied Brinks. “Get your gear and let’s move out.”
The mercenaries and their test tube soldiers shouldered their packs and headed west toward their mission objective, Mine Shaft Number Two.
* * *
Beck stood next to Nesbitt on the platform above the GRC compound and watched the test tubes fall into ranks. Platoon commanders took muster and passed them forward to Nesbitt. After he received all of them, the mercenary leader turned to Beck.
“We’re ready to move out. Brinks should be close to Mine Shaft Number Two, and by the time he gets all the charges planted and the thumper ready, we’ll be in position.”
Beck nodded. He was filled with nervous anticipation, as though he was on the brink of a momentous undertaking. The last time his engineered soldiers had faced off against Space Marines it began as an accidental exchange of gunfire that spiraled out of control. This time, he would get a glimpse at their potential as an organized military force.
Their current operation was something quite different: a deliberate assault on the forces of the UNT. Once it was launched there was no going back. The thought sent a chill down his spine.
“Beck?”
Nesbitt intruded on his train of thought.
“We’re leaving.”
Beck nodded, and Nesbitt descended the ladder and joined his troops. Rank after rank peeled off and disappeared into the jungle until all that remained was the platoon Nesbitt had assigned to the base camp. After a long look at the jungle, Beck climbed down and returned to the headquarters building.
* * * * *
Chapter Thirty-Three
The point man halted the patrol and called Pell and Ystremski forward. When they got to his position, they saw someone had trampled a wide swath through the dense vegetation.
“Who the hell did this?” Pell stared in surprise. “It looks like an army marched through here.”
“Yeah.” Ystremski looked at the way the branches and plants were bent. “An army, marching west. But when?” He looked up at the thick canopy overhead and cursed. “We need to move out and get to a clear spot to notify Command.” He punched a short message into his communicator and ordered the patrol into motion.
* * *
Lieutenant Fortis watched as Doc Weinberg and Lily struggled to keep Kilfoy’s infection under control. After they flushed her leg multiple times, Weinberg was forced to apply another tourniquet when they saw tendrils of a blood infection creeping up her leg. Kilfoy remained unconscious throughout their efforts, but her face had taken on an ashen pallor and she mumbled unintelligible words through her fever.
Weinberg looked up, caught Fortis’ eye, and shook his head.
She’s dying.
The stark finality of this thought shocked Fortis. He’d watched Space Marines die before, but Kilfoy was the first one he personally knew, and it disturbed him.
Weinberg tore off his gloves and threw them onto the pile by the hatch.
“I don’t know what else to do, LT. One minute it’s healing clean, and the next she’s burning up and the whole thing is a festering mess. She needs a drain, but I’m afraid to try it without Kramer here. I’m just a battlefield corpsman. I plug holes and send the wounded to hospital ships. Kramer’s the surgical wizard.”
“Do the best you can, Doc. Kramer should be back soon with something from the GRC that can help.”
His words rang hollow and he regretted them, but there wasn’t much else he could do but cheerlead. He opened his mouth to say more, but Strickland, who was on watch in the next compartment, saved him.
“Lieutenant Fortis, message from Corporal Ystremski!”
Fortis breathed a silent sigh of relief as he stepped through the hatch and saw Ystremski’s message on the main display.
Discovered trail of large force headed west three klicks from GRC base.
“Call Gunny Hawkins—”
Hawkins entered the command mech in a rush. “I’m here, sir. Is that the message?”
Fortis gave him a moment to read it. “What do you think it means, Gunny?”
“I don’t know. That trail could be from the other night, but if it’s west of their base, it’s in the wrong place.”
“They’re going the wrong way, too.”
“Yeah. I think we should send out a couple patrols. If this force is out there, they should be easy to locate.”
“Okay, Gunny. Send them out. Let’s see what they find. A surveillance drone might help the search, too.”
“Good idea.”
* * *
Ystremski and Pell crouched in the trees at the edge of the GRC compound. After ten minutes of observation, Ystremski had only counted two sentries and saw no other activity.
“What do you think, Warrant?”
“Looks quiet enough.”
“I wonder where everybody’s at. LT said they had a thousand test tubes, and we saw a bunch of them the first time we were here.”
“In the jungle?”
“That’s what worries me.”
Kramer joined them. “What are we waiting for?”
“We’re watching the place to make sure it’s safe, Doc.”
“We don’t have time to wait. I need to get back to Kilfoy.” He stood up. “I’m going.”
“Doc, wait!” Warrant Pell turned back to Ystremski. “What do we do?”
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“Go with him. I’ll be right there. I want to report back to Command and make sure they know about those tracks.”
Ystremski watched as Pell and the rest of the patrol followed Kramer across the clearing and approached the GRC buildings.
“Command, this is Ystremski.”
“This is Command. Go ahead.”
Pell, Kramer, and the men were met by a group of test tubes near the buildings. Ystremski recognized one of the GRC executives in the group.
“We have arrived at the GRC camp. Three klicks west, we came across a trail made by a large force traveling west. Their camp appears almost deserted.”
Something about the body language of the two groups changed, and to Ystremski it appeared as though their discussion had become confrontational.
“We got the report, and we’ve sent two patrols out to locate the force. Trenas has a drone ready to launch as well.”
“Okay. I’ll report back when we’re on the way home. Ystremski out.”
He started to jog across the clearing when he saw the GRC executive draw a pistol and shoot Warrant Pell in the head and then turn the pistol on Kramer. Both sides recoiled, leveled their weapons, and blasted each other at point-blank range.
What the fuck?
As he ran, Ystremski saw the test tubes rake the group of Space Marines without mercy. The fighting was over in seconds.
“Shit!”
The test tubes turned their attention to the approaching Space Marine and fired at him. Ystremski crouched and ran back the way he had come as he fumbled with his communicator.
“Command, this is Ystremski. The GRC just shot up the patrol. I’m running for the jungle.”
“What? This is Command. Say again!”
Bullets whizzed overhead and punched holes in the dirt around Ystremski as he dodged.