“Yeah, thanks.”
Fitz was soon in the maintenance spacesuit and in the airlock. He pumped the air out and remembered that he had not stayed current in spacesuit use. He was always a bit nervous at first when he went outside a spacecraft. The rest of the time, he could pretend not to notice the vacuum of space.
The hatch slid open, and he instinctively sucked in his breath. He reminded himself to breathe and keep calm. In a spacesuit, an undisciplined man could take a perfectly normal situation and turn it into a complete disaster.
He carefully stepped outside and walked around to the front of the craft. Blackstone was just returning to the cockpit. Fitz turned and headed over to the alien spaceship with the tiny robot following at his heels.
The ramp was still down, and he went inside. He could see a face on the other side of the airlock. Without thinking, he waved, then reminded himself of his training. The simplest gesture could be misinterpreted with potentially disastrous results. To his surprise, the little Grey waved back, most unusual.
He could feel the pressure increase around him as the flexible parts of the suit pressed against him. Soon the hatch opened.
He got his helmet off, “Cee, is that you?”
He thought the little grey alien’s mouth curled up at the edges for a moment, but chocked it up to his imagination.
He turned to his companion who wrote on the pad, then handed it to Fitz.
It read: Yes it is I.
Fitz wrote back: Who is this with you?
You have met me; I am Tu-Mun-Hee, the Betrothed of Cee.
Fitz took the pad. What has gone wrong? He handed the device back to her.
She and Cee held a short powwow before she wrote back. Nothing has gone wrong. We are here as planned.
The realization shook Fitz. He took the pad and began to type. We were expecting a large jump ship, something we could land inside.
Betrothed read the pad, made some entries and handed it to Cee. Fitz could not help to but wonder, what was going on. Why were they not communicating directly with him? Then it hit him, there might be some way to detect their communication, even way out here. That is why he would risk his girlfriend getting caught; it was necessary for her to translate.
She wrote on the pad and handed it back to Fitz. What you are suggesting is not possible. It is only by the greatest fortune that we have a jump ship. After your last adventure, Cee was lucky in the extreme to have such access.
“Oh boy,” Fitz said aloud. Now, what am I going to do?
He typed out a message. I have over a ton of equipment that needs to go. He handed the pad back to them.
It was obvious to him now that she was reading it to Cee. He waited as the little alien appeared to contemplate the problem. Then he suddenly looked up and turned away. She motioned for Fitz to follow.
Apparently, it was teatime. Fitz felt slight annoyance at this, but reminded himself, yet again, that these were not human and saw things differently and acted differently. Just try to relax and go with it.
Taking tea while wearing an extravehicular maintenance suit in the tiny confines of a Grey spaceship is not something they teach in school, nor is it easy to do gracefully as to respect the gravity of the moment. However, Fitz made a manly effort after managing to get his right glove off and tucked away.
Blackstone must be wondering what has become of me by now. Cee must be working on something, first calming himself with the tea.
Eventually, Betrothed glanced at Cee then took the pad and began to type. After a few moments, she handed it back to Fitz.
It is not a ton on this low-gravity planet. The maintenance robot will help you. We will land on the world where your Legion has been abandoned. You will then contact them.
Fitz was taken aback, but could not see a better approach. Selling it to Blackstone should be interesting. He took the pad and typed a short message.
Very well, let us get started. He handed it back to Betrothed and buttoned up. There was work to do.
Chapter 25 - In Hiding
“Sir!” called out the breathless runner.
Smith looked up from the growing tanks, “Yes?”
“They’re up to something.”
“Something?”
“There’s incoming.”
Smith turned and walked over to the breathless legionnaire. “Incoming for here?”
“No sir, there is something headed to our last location.”
“An aircraft?”
“No sir, it’s dropping in from space.”
“From orbit?” asked Smith.
“No sir, it just dropped into real space, and is on its way in.”
“Only one ship?”
“Yes sir, so far,” the runner replied.
“Let’s go,” said Smith as he led the way to the radar room. When he got there, the room was animated. They were keeping a close eye on the incoming.
Smith walked up to the screen. It was surrounded by the team. His eyes locked on Lieutenant Jones’. “What do you have?”
“We’ve got incoming sir, something different. I’ve not seen a signature like this before; the computer doesn’t know what to make of it.”
“Can you get some general idea? Is it a Separatist spacecraft or an enemy?” asked Smith.
“Sir, this thing is too small to be the enemy.”
“Unless they’ve come up with something new,” Smith responded.
“Perhaps, but I don’t think so. I just don’t know what to make of it.”
Smith watched the target. Something seemed familiar about its odd flight path. “Do you have anything on the Greys?”
“Sir?”
“Do you have anything on how the Greys fly?”
“No sir, but I’ve never seen one of their ships enter the atmosphere, not to mention they’re pretty big,” responded Jones.
“Much bigger than this target, but there is one type of craft they have. It’s a small scout type craft.”
“Sorry sir, I don’t have anything that can help you.”
“Well, keep an eye on it.” As he turned to go, a shutter went through the cave. He eyes locked with Jones for a moment, then he turned and ran for one of the lookout posts.
The men had constructed several such posts, as there was no one place to keep an eye on all possible avenues of approach. He knew what he was looking for. He reached it as the blast wave hit.
The men had already seen the flash and were hunkered down. Smith fell over against the far wall of the tiny opening. The lookout ports were only about ten centimeters high, so the vast majority of the blast went over them.
Smith lifted himself up and felt for his binocs. He could see the mushroom cloud rise in the gathering darkness. Denver knew what it meant. The first ridges where they dug in had just been nuked.
He suspected immediately that it was not an air blast. Had they dropped a surface device or had they burrowed into the mountain before setting it off. It did not matter. He had been vindicated. The Legion was safe, for now. Then it hit him.
Had they gotten their own wounded out first? Certainly, there had not been time to bury the dead. They must have just nuked them. The realization staggered him. Had they no respect for anything, the living, or their own dead? Were they really the monsters the Separatists claimed?
“Keep a close eye on radiation. Depending on the wind direction, we may get lucky, but don’t count on it,” Smith instructed. He headed back to the radar room.
The new digs were even better than the last. With only a little tunneling, all caverns would soon be connected. To make it even better, there was water, heavily mineralized water, but it was still water, down deep. Smith had ordered the dead to be laid out in a deep dry cavern and held a prayer service with each man’s friends, commanders, and squad mates in attendance. Each body had been draped.
Only Argie knew that these drapes would be recovered for later use.
This solemn manner appeared to reassure the men. They would not be forgotten, left to rot where they fell. Their bones would be laid out by their comrades.
Lieutenant Jones looked up as he entered the radar room. “Sir, what just happened?”
“They nuked our first position.”
“Uh oh, do you think they’re coming after us?”
Smith smiled slowly, “No, I think they just covered our tracks for us.”
“Sir?”
“It might be a while before they can inspect the damage done us.”
“If ever,” added Jones. “They think they got us. They think they got us! We’re safe.”
Safe, there is no safety, not as long as you’re alive. “Let’s not get carried away,” cautioned Smith.
Then he added, “I want a meeting of every NCO and officer in the in the big cavern in thirty minutes. Send out your runners.”
How to put this in the best light without blowing smoke, keep them motivated but not starry-eyed, realistic not fatalistic?
“Sir?” It was one of the operators. “The unidentified, it has changed course.”
Jones and Smith joined the radar tech. The incoming ship had indeed changed course and was once again outbound for open space.
“Keep an eye on it. Let me know if it returns.”
“Sir, there’s something else; an enemy ship is making for orbit.”
After watching the screen for a while, he said, “Very well, keep an eye on both of them. Let me know of any changes.” He made his way to the designated cavern, one that would accommodate all his NCOs and officers.
* * * *
“I suppose everyone felt the rumble about forty-five minutes ago, and you are wondering what it was. I’ll tell you; the Reptilians have set off a thermonuclear device.”
Smith waited for the gasps and exclamations to die down.
“I also know there has been considerable complaining concerning our move and forced march to this new location. I had suspected they would hit our dug in positions hard.
“Now, I know you have questions so let me see if I can get out ahead of some of them. At this time, the wind is carrying the fallout away from us, but I cannot promise you that absolutely no radiation to reach us.
“We’ve got the caves sealed up and are cleaning the air we have in here. Any outside air is being pulled through filters that will stop most dust particles, therefore, most of the radiation.
“How are the marijuana plants making out? Where are my gardeners?” Smith looked around the room until he saw a hand.
It was Sergeant Benjamin Smith. He came to attention and identified himself, “Sir the plants are doing fine. They survived the move without any problem.”
Something about the way he said it, bothered Smith. Popular duty, this marijuana tending. “Good, that’s fine. How long before you will be able to set up tanks in the other tunnels?”
“Give me another week, sir. The tanks should be up and running by then.”
“That’s great news. Obviously, I don’t want the Legion stoned out of its mind; that’s why I’m not making any rule against smoking it. However, you need to make sure everyone knows we are subject to attack at any time. I expect you squad leaders to deal with anyone who wants to stay stoned and won’t pull his own weight. Just don’t hurt anyone so bad he can’t fight.”
There was some general laughter at that. Once it died down, he began again. “So we can breathe, and we have a subterranean source of water. For those concerned about food, we are not just growing weed. We are also growing food.
“Now as to the enemy’s latest attack, they can’t just go in and check if we’re there. They have pretty well covered our tracks for us. You may have noticed that we have put up no fortifications this time. That was not an oversight. I deliberately did not want to leave any sign whatsoever that we had escaped. The enemy obviously thought we were still there or they wouldn’t have hit it the way they did. So now, we hide and survive. I have planned a different sort of defense this time. Should we be attacked, we will take them in these caverns, bunch them together then blow them apart. We even have people looking for underground escape routes.”
This last was not true; he just now thought it up, but it sounded like a good idea. He would see if it was possible.
Remember, no radio communications whatsoever, unless they are attacking. All communication is to be by runner. That is extremely important. We don’t want an electronic signature to give our position away. Is that clearly understood?”
He looked around the cavern. A sea of faces nodded in agreement.
“Now, as I have said, I suspect the enemy have convinced themselves that we are destroyed. Checking on our destruction will be problematic. With any luck, they’ll just fly away. One way or the other, we are staying hidden. Are there any questions?”
He expected questions, but there was only one. One of his Lieutenants rose and was recognized. “Sir, is there any way that daily radiation levels can be recorded and transmitted to the units?”
“Yes, that’s a good idea. I can have the team in charge of the nuclear generator check each cavern daily and report the readings to each battalion commander. That’s a good idea; it will help keep everyone from worrying too much about radiation. It is up to you to make sure that information gets down to the lowest rank.” There were no more questions.
Dmitri called the assembly to attention and dismissed them. Smith was satisfied with what he could see of morale among his NCOs and officers. He would make a point of visiting each company to see for himself how well it was selling.
* * * *
Argie had been inventorying medical supplies when the order came for the meeting. As the group broke up and headed off, she came up to Smith.
“That was a rousing speech, Captain.” she teased. “I’ve heard a rumor that you are conducting weddings these days.”
“It’s not a rumor; I conducted my first wedding before the Reptilian attack. “Why the sudden interest, found yourself a victim?”
“Not funny Captain.” She moved closer to him, but this time he did not back away.
“Are we really going to be okay?” she asked.
“For now, I don’t think the Reptilians will come looking.”
“And if you’re wrong?” she asked.
“We’ll be ready.”
“What about ammo?”
“That’s a problem, but we collected several hundred rifles on the surface before we pulled out, along with plenty of ammo. If all else fails, we’ll shoot them with their own rifles.”
“Who have you found who can handle them? From what I hear, they have a pretty nasty kick.”
“They do, but I’ve begun to mount them on any vehicle or anything else that will give support and protection to the people manning these guns.”
“How do you plan to do that?” she quizzed.
“The mounts we have put together will have to accelerate sandbags backward decreasing the punch to the soldier’s shoulder. It should make the kick tolerable.”
“And if not?” she asked.
“Don’t forget, I fired one of these once. It didn’t kill me even then.”
“Oh no, I haven’t forgotten.” She quickly added, “Neither has anyone else.”
“Now, how are you doing on supplies?”
“Not good,” she remarked. “We are running low on everything, bandages, morphine …”
“Boil them,” he said.
“Say again.”
“Take all used bandage material and boil them.”
“That’s kind of disgusting, don’t you think?”
“How does that compare to running out of bandages?”
“We could rip up anything we don’t have to have and make bandages
,” she offered.
“Yes, that’s the spirit. Anything you can use, cut it up into a bandage. I need to know one thing; can you make it through another all-out attack like the one we just survived?”
She took in a deep breath and looked away as she exhaled. I don’t think so; we used up much of what we had. If we are hit again, I don’t know if I have enough supplies.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded, “Okay.”
“At least the marijuana might be used for pain control,” she said.
“Don’t know if that would work.”
“You don’t know if it will not work,” she argued.
“True. I guess it’s better than nothing. He changed the subject, “Will we be able to scrub the carbon dioxide, till we get our unusual plans for making oxygen into production?”
“I think so unless something goes wrong.”
“What do you think can go wrong?” he asked.
“Only a hundred or so things, we are on incredibly thin ice. Even without an enemy who is hell bent on exterminating us, there are still plenty of ways for this to end badly.”
Chapter 26 - Smooth Operator
As the scout ship dropped back into real space near the target planet, Fitz sat crouched where he could see out. He was behind the pilots with Cee and Betrothed standing to his left.
Below and forward, what had seemed a small pile of supplies now looked huge. Fitz was silently hoping he would find the Legion safely encamped, but he doubted it.
It was with great difficulty that he got Blackstone to agree to stay with the ship; there was no other choice. Fitz knew it. Blackstone knew it. There was no one else to fly the spacecraft.
Fitz and the robot had made trip after trip carrying supplies. Sweat ran down into his eyes and mouth. His eyes burned; he blinked and carried on. Finally, they were ready. Blackstone would wait, but for how long?
As the tiny nimble ship kissed upper atmosphere, Cee became agitated, then so did Betrothed. She quickly wrote on the pad then handed it to Fitz. It read: Something has happened. Someone has set off a nuclear device on the surface.
Hell Fighters From Earth Book 2 Page 22