Dan Bullet hardly worried about Barbara after the defeat became so obvious, but in any case toward the last he got orders that concentrated his mind. His squad was told to move at a dead run toward a position at the edge of a heavily shrouded but blackened tree line. It was near the central city area at the edge of near total destruction where the plasma cannon had been. A large group of Worms was attacking the second squad, coming up from beneath the city, and they needed reinforcements quickly. The second shuttle had been sent in to land behind them and try plugging the exit point while Bullet's squad would reinforce and try to keep them from being overrun. They were going to be heavily outnumbered but were the only group near enough to pull it off.
"We want prisoners!" He heard the order over his com and cursed, as did most of the others with him.
"You heard the boss," Platoon Sergeant Martinez said. "Dig in quick! They'll be here in two shakes. Let's thin 'em out some first before worrying about prisoners."
Damn straight, Bullet thought. He checked his ammo packs and got ready while wondering how in hell one went about taking prisoners of an enemy that showed no inclination to surrender-but orders were orders. And he certainly agreed with the idea of taking down a good many of them before worrying about capturing any. He got a poor excuse for a fighting hole ready just in time to meet the first of the swarming horde. His first crazy thought was that it looked like something out of a science program, like devouring insects intent on snuffing out all life in their path, but then it came into perspective.
Charging Worms grew in size until he could see them firing their short stubby rifles and then they suddenly became the enemy, something to kill. They rushed toward him with no attempt to use cover. He felt alone, as if every single one of them were coming to kill him and no one else. For an instant he froze. Then a burst of machine gun fire to his left startled him back into awareness. This is going to get real messy, he thought.
Bullet braced his rifle on the edge of his hole and concentrated on firing as accurately as possible, given the need to put out as much firepower as possible at the same time. His hole was in the forefront. He knew he was going to be overrun before it happened. A surge of fear gripped him in the guts, making him want to get up and run. Only the fact that his squad mates were showing no signs of bugging out kept him in place. The situation gave bugging out a whole new meaning. He didn't know what kept them standing firm but it was enough. So long as they stayed, he would stay and die with them.
He emptied three clips in rapid succession and was sliding another home when the leading wave of Worms reached him. In his haste, the clip slid from his hand. He rose to his feet, knocked a Worm rifle aside and stabbed at it with his bayoneted rifle. Green gore poured from the hole it made. He slid the bayonet out and swung the rifle butt like a club, caving in the head of another Worm all the way down to its mandibles.
Another Worm, apparently out of ammunition just like he was, grabbed him with all four manipulating appendages and dragged him toward its mouth part. Its mandibles clattered in anticipation while he struggled to keep away from them, thinking wildly that they had too many arms and legs. It's not fair! That was his last coherent thought before being punched in the side with a pile driver. His armor collapsed from the force of the impact and the breath went from his body. He curled up in a fetal position, trying to get away from the agony in his side and waited to die. I'm sorry Barb ...he thought. Blackness descended.
Chapter Eleven: War Plans
One of the serious problems in planning the fight against American doctrine, is that the Americans do not read their manuals, nor do they feel any obligation to follow their doctrine... - From a Soviet Junior Army Lieutenant
M.I. does the dying. Fleet just does the flying. - Johnny Rico, Starship Troopers
Major Rambling had his headquarters set up near the remnants of the energy weapon that had fired on Doc Travis. There wasn't much left of the emplacement but ruins, half-filling a large hole in the ground that was still emitting tendrils of smoke and small, flickering flames. A thick base wall that had been in the process of construction provided a perfect barrier against stray slugs or the plasma beams of energy from the weapons used by the worms. He had already ordered some of them gathered and sent back to the shuttles. He wanted them for study and possible future use by his own forces.
A few stragglers and strays among the Worms were still fighting but the latest report said they would be hunted down and eliminated soon. He tapped out of his com and decided to take a few minutes to visit the casualties. There weren't many because any marine hit in the body usually died. The Worms had fought strenuously but badly. It was simply their numerical superiority that kept the battle going as long as it had. That and a number of robots, artificial intelligences he thought, about half the size of the Worms, that had been mixed in with the last of the defenders. He'd had to bring both heavy weapons squads up to take them out and they had caused more casualties than he liked to think about before being silenced. Still, it was the lack of organization and planning on the part of the Worms that contributed most to the victory, he thought. It seemed strange. The energy gun that fired on their ship had certainly been ready. If it had been much more powerful the results could have been disastrous.
One of the wounded was just having his armor cut off. There was a huge dent in the right side of the scorched plate that covered his mid-section. The corporal was blinking away tears but didn't seem to be in great pain.
"How is he doing?" Rambling asked one of the medics attending him.
The man looked up from where a pair of shears was cutting away the mangled release mechanism. "He may have some internal bruising but I think he'll make it fine. The plasma the Worms use in their rifles don't have near the punch as ours. It's the heat from a hit that kills. This man was lucky. He just got a glancing blow. He'll have a bad burn beneath his armor but he should make it with some debridging and new skin. He was with the squad that got overrun in Bravo section. Looks like they all stood their ground."
Rambling touched the shoulder of the marine. "Good job, son. Your squad probably saved a good many of your buddies from getting hurt, or worse. If they had gotten into the rear area they'd have caused a lot of trouble before the reserves got to them."
"Th...th'ks, sir. Hurts."
The medic pressed a pressure syringe against his Bullet's forearm. It made a snapping sound. The corporal blinked then sighed as the painkiller took hold.
Rambling went on from one to the next, complimenting them on their combat ability and telling them not to worry now. It was a pleasant duty for him, in one way. He had expected much worse.
Inside the cover attached to the wall where he had a temporary combat communications center he commed his executive officer. She was still in the field, recording results of the fighting and guard details for the few prisoners. "Captain Cantrell."
"Cantrell here, sir."
"Cindy, can you turn what you're doing over to one of the headquarters' officers and get back to the command center?"
"Yes, sir. We're down to organizing exploration teams and re-checking the stories of the Wannstead people we found. It's fantastic, isn't it?"
"That it is. This whole detail is fantastic and it doesn't sit right with me. There's more to it than meets the eye. I don't like it."
"My feelings exactly sir."
"Anything specific?"
"Not yet, sir. Maybe after we've got it all analyzed and the intelligence people have gone over it."
"Well, we'll have to go with what we've got right now. The Captain wants a briefing and you've seen more of the action than me. Would you mind going back to the ship and speaking with him?"
She felt an incongruous thump of her heart. The few times she had been in the presence of Captain Keane the same thing happened despite her attempts to stifle it. There just wasn't a chance in hell of what her body demanded ever being satisfied.
"Not at all, sir. I'll get going now."
Thankfully,
her mind could overrule her physical response to seeing Keane or force it to be still enough not to reveal what she was thinking. A chance to brief him one on one was a dream come true but she wished it weren't. Nevertheless, as soon as she was out of sight of the combat command area she brushed her hair back and tied it with a ribbon that wasn't exactly regulation but came close. When she was certain she wasn't being observed she brushed as much debris from her fatigues as possible and used a hand mirror to touch up her face just a bit, all the time telling herself how stupid she was.
***
"The objective is secure, sir, but I don't fully understand what we're seeing down here." Major Rambling's voice came through clearly to Keane and there was no sign now of fighting from where the assault shuttle had landed. The Captain was relieved but he didn't exactly like what he was being told.
"What do you mean, Steel?"
"Sir, it's nothing that's an immediate danger to us or the ship right now but I'd like to look around some more, and I do have exploration parties out gathering more intelligence. May I send my XO back to you with a preliminary report? I could also send half my marines back on the shuttle as well and have that out of the way. We certainly don't need them here anymore."
"That good?"
"We have a few prisoners, sir, but we had to take them by force. Our casualties weren't high considering the opposition, but we did take some extra ones trying to subdue a few of the Worms for questioning. There's a couple of other considerations but Cindy will tell you all about it."
"All right, Steel. I must say you have me curious. Who came up with the name for the aliens?"
"Worms?
"Yes."
"I don't know, sir. It just started and spread. All the men are using it now."
"Okay. It fits, I suppose. Take care. Don't lose any more of your marines. I have a feeling we're going to need them again."
"Wait until you hear from Capt-from Major Cantrell. You'll be certain of it then."
"Fine. Keane out."
***
Keane had met the Marine XO, Captain Cindy Cantrell, only a few times, usually in formal settings such as dinners, but had been impressed with the calmness of her bearing and acumen in being able to discuss subjects outside her specialty. When she was admitted to his day cabin he hardly recognized her as the same person. She had obviously taken the time to stop at her stateroom to freshen up after the groundside combat but that wasn't the reason she seemed different to him. Perhaps it was the informal setting in his cabin or the sight of her in combat fatigues instead of uniform. Or maybe it was the ribbon. He smiled inwardly as he noted its color, brighter than regulation but not quite enough to bring a reprimand.
She seemed both younger and more at ease than before, especially just coming from the site of some rather fierce fighting. Whatever, he found himself relating to her in a fashion he was quite certain wasn't appropriate, certainly not in a duty setting where she would be briefing him on the recent combat. Recognizing his reaction, he tried assuming a mantle of formality, not with a great deal of success. He wasn't aware that Cantrell had noted his first reaction and the subsequent change in his manner.
"Coffee? Or would something a bit stronger suit you now?" He asked.
"Just coffee would be fine, sir. In fact it would be more than welcome. Thank you."
CPO Mura appeared as if by magic with a tray and carafe. She took quick note of her Captain's expression and also of his visitor's intent to discuss the recent clash with the planet's aliens and set the tray on the coffee table in the area suitable for a personal presentation. She filled both cups and set the cream and sugar out.
"Thank you, Chief."
"Yes, sir," she said and withdrew.
"Go ahead, Major. Pour for us. And may I call you Cindy while we're in this setting? I suppose there are good reasons why only one person may be called Captain on a ship, but I want to pick your brains right now and I can do it better in a Cindy setting than a Major setting, if you don't mind."
She smiled prettily in answer, making him wonder how much of his feelings he was giving away despite himself. "Certainly, sir. I don't mind at all."
"Very well, let's get started, then. I understand that was indeed a Chinese ship that beat us here?"
"Yes sir. Unfortunately, there are very few of them left. From what the most senior survivor, a noncom, told us, after their ship was shot down, the survivors were overwhelmed despite attempts at friendly contact. The few still alive surrendered. Those few were being confined in an unfinished sub-basement where the Worms were defending against us. When we were forced to use heavy weapons to break in, most of them were killed."
"How about their ship. How badly damaged is it?"
"I'm sorry sir, I can't tell you for certain. Major Rambling has requested an engineering crew to look at it and I understand they're on their way now."
"They are. I thought you might know something. Never mind. Tell me about the aliens, the Worms."
She leaned back in her chair, apparently arranging her thoughts, then leaned forward again. "Would it be alright if I showed you the recordings taken from the shuttle and our personal coms, sir? One of our intelligence techs spliced a good bit of it together. It's rough but fairly coherent."
"Certainly."
She plugged the record chip into his day cabin computer. She checked her hand control then quickly began projecting and explaining.
"The Worms aren't very good at ground combat, sir, as you can see here." She showed a group of aliens charging headlong into a hastily prepared marine position. They were cut down in swaths. "The only reason we had as much trouble as we did is that they outnumbered us by quite a margin, and didn't show any inclination at all toward surrendering, even after it became obvious they were whipped. The only captives we have were subdued after they ran out of ammunition for their weapons, or were wounded and no longer able to resist. This is some good footage here. See how we had to actually wrestle them to the ground and tie them?" Keane chuckled at the sight of hardened marines attempting to handcuff the eight appendages of an alien to immobilize it while the creature struggled and resisted the whole time. Finally one of the larger marines wrestled the multi-limbed alien to the ground while others cuffed the Worm's appendages.
"Who's the big marine that that finally brought that one down?" laughed Keane.
"I think that's corporal Sal Salvino, a big guy from New Jersey who used to wrestle heavyweight."
"Bet he never had a match like that!"
"No, I don't think so, sir, but since he was so good at bringing that one down, they had him take down two more ...that was before a fatter Worm broke his nose."
"Sorry to hear about that, I'll make sure I stop by and thank the corporal for his initiative."
"I'm sure he'd like that sir."
"Any intel from the prisoners? I wonder how in the hell we'll communicate?"
"The good news is that we have a few interpreters who know their language."
"Really? How so?"
"Um ...that ties in with what Major Rambling said about other considerations, sir. There were survivors from the Wannstead ship, and by the way, it was indeed the last one that went missing. They've only been captives for a few months but there were a few other humans mixed with them who had been transferred from either Xanadu or another colony from within the Bolt Cluster. I'm not sure which, and they're not either. It's still rather confusing. At any rate, those few have been prisoners for a long time, probably since the first or second Wannstead ship was lost. They have a pretty good knowledge of the alien language. Major Rambling's intelligence officer and his assistant are just beginning to question the captive Worms with their help. They weren't being very cooperative when I left but I suppose that could have changed. I guess you can agree that the news of other settlements within the cluster is the most important piece of data we've gotten so far."
Keane looked at the recordings while nodding abstractedly. The Worms were secured to various pieces of
heavy furniture or to built-in appliances of sturdy but unknown function found in one of the few buildings with finished roofs. The older humans who had been captives of the aliens were dressed in not much more than rags, while the younger looking ones, presumably from the last Wannstead ship to be lost, still had on vestiges of uniforms.
"I suppose they must be overjoyed at being rescued," Keane commented.
He saw Cindy's expression change into one of, if not hatred, something close to it. "You don't know the half of it, sir. They have been treated as slaves, both literally and figuratively, ever since being captured. And sir, from what we've seen of how the Worms use so much robotic labor, there is no reason at all for slavery. This footage here shows Merrilyn Meadows, one of the women who was a captive and transferred from Xanadu, we think." The woman was dressed in a tattered wrap that hung from her shoulders and dropped to mid-thigh. It was gathered at the waist by what looked like a rope. "She told me that the Worms actually had to work at finding enough for them to do. It was apparently a desire to have menials to order around and to punish for disobedience that rocked their boat, nothing else. You can see her condition. The others are just like that. The older ones are in rags and barefooted, other than what a few of them have devised or scrounged for themselves."
"Well, we'll tend to them and get them fed and clothed just as quickly as the situation warrants. We need to get them thoroughly debriefed, too. The whole situation seems quirky to me, an enigma, if you will. What are the Worms you questioned saying about this place?"
Cindy sipped at her coffee, remembering the glare of hatred Merrilyn had sustained toward the aliens during the period of questioning she had been present for. "It is apparently a ...a colony of a colony. That's about the best we've come up with so far. Xanadu is the main settlement in the cluster, but if what they're saying is right, it is a colony as well from an empire of sorts quite a ways from here. Xanadu was the first and, according to them, others are being added with Xanadu as the primary site of supplies and colonists."
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