I’m fine.
10 months ago
“Thrusters?” Pia tried to keep the excitement from tingeing her voice too much. It was her very first mission as the ship captain. Sure, the converted shuttle wasn’t much to look at, nor was it a very large ambulance—hardly enough space to carry more than half–a–dozen litters. But it was quick and nimble, and that’s what mattered when flying to and from the front.
“All green, all quadrants,” came the crisp reply from her co–pilot, First Lieutenant Angel Miller. Always a consummate professional, Pia could tell Angel was just as excited as she was by the slight acceleration in Angel’s spoken cadence.
Pia’s crew worked together like a well–lubricated machine after flying together for two months in preparation for this deployment. She knew each and every one of them and their quirks and, given the chaos that awaited them down in New Austin, she couldn’t imagine flying with a better team.
Pre–flight checklist complete, Pia pulled back on the yoke while Angel repeated their departure clearance to Space Traffic Control onboard the UPNS COMFORT. It was their home base and main ship of operations, currently in orbit around the colony planet of New Texas.
“Midas Four Two, turn right to one two zero, watch for the asteroids, then it’s a straight shot to landing zone delta.”
“Midas Four Two copies all.” Angel gave Pia the thumbs–up; she pushed the thrusters forward. She heard a whoop of glee not just from her two gunners, but the two hospital corpsmen as well.
“Should I quiet them down, ma’am?”
“Nah, let ’em cheer. I know just how they feel.” Pia let a grin break across her face as she opened the thrusters fully, as she swooped around the asteroid field that stood between them and the planet’s surface.
§
Pia sat on the prefabricated front porch of her home. It looked like wood, felt like wood, and even smelled like wood, but it wasn’t wood. The old oil companies had seen the writing on the wall long ago and had created new, easily sustainable materials that were both cheap and durable. Perfect for colony moons like Pia’s home of Grace.
Grace was in the same system as New Texas but couldn’t have been more different. Whereas New Texas—with its slightly closer orbit to the system’s sun—was primarily a desert wasteland, Grace was lovely, and so very much like how every child learned Earth had once been before humanity had used it up and nearly destroyed it.
A light breeze blew by, fluttering the greenish–purple leaves on the surrounding trees. The accompanying sound of the little stream in Pia’s backyard almost made her feel at ease. Almost.
“Hey.” Mike sat down next Pia, and she belatedly realized he’d walked up without her even noticing.
That could get me killed. Not that Mike would ever hurt me. It was the canidae, or “cans” as they’d taken to calling them on New Texas, that she had to worry about.
“Hey, yourself.”
“Your mom called me.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “She told me what happened to Faust. I’m sorry.”
Pia shrugged. Her eyes flitted to the trees lining the property line, looking for the monsters she knew had to exist out there. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there.
Mike followed her gaze, then looked at the old–fashioned hinged front door that hung partially open, then back to Pia. His jet–black eyebrows furrowed together in his classic “I’m worried” expression.
“How long have you been out here?”
“I don’t know.” Pia shrugged and continued to watch the tree line.
“Why didn’t you just go inside?”
Pia tensed, heart racing. He would never understand. And she didn’t have the words to explain it. How could she make him understand that she couldn’t be in the house without someone? That it was too small. That it was wrong in there right now. The walls were too close. Confining. Trapping.
“I couldn’t.”
Raising one eyebrow, Mike opened his mouth to respond, but Pia cut him off.
“I just couldn’t, okay? You don’t need to go all ‘Doctor Chu’ on me.”
Ignoring the hurt look in his brown eyes, she kept her eyes on the tree line.
“Not that kind of doctor, Pia. I’m physical therapist, not a mental therapist.” He ran his fingers through his straight black, closely–shorn hair.
Pia stiffened. “Is that what you think I need? A mind bender?”
“No, I…” He reached out a hand to touch her back and she flinched. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” Getting to her feet, Pia went back inside, leaving Mike alone on the porch.
10 months ago
“You ready back there?” Pia kept her eyes on the navigational instruments as she finished another checklist. She knew that beyond the snub nose of her ship lay the gruesome remains of more than one Marine amidst the charred rubble of this section of New Austin. Despite receiving multiple scene–setting mission briefs to supposedly prepared them, she and her younger crewmembers hadn’t expected this; the older, more seasoned members seemed unsurprised. The “cans” were brutally vicious and efficient. Body armor was almost useless against their six sets of claws. Her ship’s hull armor wasn’t much better.
Thankfully plasma rifles are far more effective than claws.
“Stabilizing one more, Skipper.” HM3 Francis Kilmer’s slow drawl sounded in Pia’s headset.
“Copy, Doc. Just let me know when you’re ready.”
Lingo piped in. “Hey, Velazquez, you gotta check out the bleeder! Her leg’s only hanging on by a—”
“Shut it, Lingo!” Corporal Velazquez, who normally had a smile on her face, chastised the junior gunner. “Just focus on your effing job and let the docs do theirs. You never know when a can could come.”
“All loaded and ready. Pax are secure.” HM2 Anton Mierzejewski’s voice crackled over their headsets.
Pia gripped the yoke and scanned the horizon. Once she felt the ramp lock in place and verified it with a look at the center screen, she pushed up the power and headed them back to the UPNS COMFORT.
“Through or around the asteroids?” Angel brought up the two courses she’d plotted. Her fingers hovered lightly over them, waiting for the captain’s direction.
Pia bit her lower lip. Through was definitely the quicker way, but also likely to get them killed. The problem with around was that it would take too long. She didn’t know what shape their casualties were in.
The sound of someone retching filled her ears.
“Corporal Velazquez, is everything all right?” Angel gave Pia a worried glance.
“Yeah. Well, no. The bleeder’s strap broke and she fell off the litter, and her leg fell off her. It doesn’t look good back here. The docs are trying to help her, but Lingo can’t stomach it.” Velasquez’s voice, though calm, was tight. “I think you better hurry, Skipper.”
“Asteroids it is.” Pia turned the ambulance toward the thin belt that stood between them and the COMFORT. Pia knew it was just a saying, that if she didn’t get the trauma patients to the COMFORT within the “golden hour,” they most likely wouldn’t keel over and die, but time truly was of the essence if all these Marines, especially “the bleeder,” were going to survive.
“Make sure everyone’s strapped down tight back there.” Pia eyed a gap between the outermost asteroids before her. She could just make out the outline the COMFORT beyond the belt. “This is going to be a bumpy ride.”
Present
Pia sat straight up, sweat coating her entire body as her heart raced. Disoriented, she reached for the yoke that wasn’t in front of her. Pia’s right hand closed around empty air as she searched for the thrusters.
Everything was dark, and she blinked her eyes frantically, trying to get her vision to clear, when she heard a loud snore. Mike’s snore. It was a loud as a ship’s well deck opening up, and it immediately grounded her back in the here and now.
She was home on Grace.
She was not on New Texas. She hadn’t just lost another crewmember to the fangs and claws of a can.
I’m fine.
She couldn’t remember her nightmare, not even fragments, just the feeling of helplessness that stayed with her.
Knowing she wouldn’t be sleeping again anytime soon, Pia slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Mike, and padded softly down the stairs to her guitar.
10 months ago
Their fourth load of injured Marines and civilians offloaded onto the UPNS COMFORT, Pia stifled a yawn. They were nearing the end of their crew day and would soon get to hit the rack. She knew her crew had to be at least as exhausted as she was—if not more, in the docs’ cases.
“Ramp’s up.” Lingo’s tired voice sounded over the intercom. Angel visually verified the indicator on the center console and gave Pia a thumbs–up, confirming the lance corporal’s statement. They had to be more careful than ever now—tired people made mistakes, and mistakes killed Marines.
Pia pushed up the thrusters and eased the shuttle through the airlock and down the COMFORT’s well deck. She rolled her head around, trying to loosen up her neck. The fifteen pounds of survival gear that she wore now felt more like fifty.
“Midas Four Two, turn to zero six three, current angle of attack.”
Pia and Angel exchanged a confused look before Angel responded to control.
“Say again, control? We’re an ambulance on a CASEVAC route to landing zone…” Angel double–checked her notes then keyed the mic, “…delta. That heading takes us to zone…” she checked the digital chart display, “…papa, which is still hot.”
“Do you have gunners, Midas?” A new voice was coming from STC, deep and growling.
“Affirmative,” Pia answered before Angel could, irritated by the change in the briefed mission. “But my crew’s exhausted, and flying them into a hot zone, without a proper brief at the very least, is liable to get someone killed.”
The same growling voice snapped back almost before Pia unkeyed the mic. “If you don’t hurry there won’t be casualties to evacuate! Every second you argue with me you put another Marine’s life at risk, Captain.”
Pia frowned and then keyed the shuttle’s intercom. “Did you all hear that?”
Her crew chief, good old reliable Gunnery Sergeant Anderton, the one among them who had the most to lose because he was retiring next month, was the one to answer.
“They’re Marines, ma’am.”
That said it all. “See if you can plot a somewhat safe way in,” Pia said, nodding toward the nav computer as she angled the shuttle toward the new landing zone.
“And if I can’t?” Angel didn’t look up, fingers already manipulating their flight route in the nav computer.
“They’re Marines. Find a way.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am!”
Present
Pia smiled as she strummed the last chords to the song she’d just learned on her guitar. It was another old tune, but it was bright and catchy and always made her smile. She thought maybe she’d play it for Mike. Maybe she’d even sing along. Maybe—
“Do you want to go for a walk?” Mike leaned against the opening into the den.
Pia’s smile was gone in an instant and she felt her anger rise up inside. How dare he interrupt?
“Do I look like I want to go for a walk? I’m playing my guitar. If I wanted to go for a walk, I’d go for a walk!”
Mike didn’t say anything. Didn’t yell back. Didn’t even turn and leave. He didn’t even have the decency to look hurt or upset by her behavior toward him. He just stood there looking perfectly understanding and calm.
She wanted to hurt him. To make him angry with her. Then she’d feel validated. Then he would see all the things that were wrong with her. Then he would leave her and she wouldn’t have to try so hard anymore.
Setting the cherrywood guitar carefully back on its stand, Pia rose to her feet and calmly walked over to the delicately carved jade vase that had been a Chu family heirloom for generations now. It was older than Grace itself, originating on Earth. Picking the vase up carefully in two hands, she just as calmly walked past Mike and out to the back garden.
“Pia?” He followed her outside, careful to give her the space he seemed to understand she needed. “What are you doing?”
“I hate this vase.” Before he could stop her, Pia hurled the vase into the stream and smiled as she watched it crack and break up amongst the rocks.
She felt hot tears rolling down her cheeks as she sank to the soft grass beneath her.
“I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.” Pia pulled up clumps of grass and dug her fingers into the rich soil beneath. She felt Mike’s arms encircle her and she shoved against him.
“You should hate me!”
He only pulled her tighter and kissed the top of her head. “I think you need to talk to someone.”
“I don’t want to.” She buried her face in his shoulder and felt the wetness from her tears soak the absorbent synth of his shirt. “I’m fine. I’m fine!”
“I know. But I still think you should.”
“Please don’t make me.”
“I can’t make you do anything.”
10 months ago
They touched down on the dusty pad of LZ Papa between the remains of the Marine’s forward operating base. Pia’s gunners had just blasted a dozen cans from the air, but not before they’d witnessed a lone Marine get torn limb from limb by one of the six–legged, hairy monsters. The engines were too loud to hear the Marine’s screams, but they could see his mouth contort in pain. Lingo had blasted the can to bits with his plasma rifle, but it had been too late.
A golden retriever lay by the remains of his handler, his chest heaving up and down slowly, and Pia could only imagine the high–pitched keen coming from the grieving dog.
Can’t do anything about that right now. Focus on the task at hand. They had a job to do, and Pia knew her crew would cue off of her behavior.
“Angel, run a scan. Are we going to get hit by the cans while on deck?”
“Aye, aye.” Angel’s fingers flew over the console as she executed Pia’s order. Everything else was quiet as they landed, eerily so.
“All clear, Skipper?” Doc Kilmer’s voice sounded over the intercom once the last landing strut was in place.
“We got a herd of cans coming from two seven zero, about a klick away.” Angel called up the heat signatures and vector and sent them back to the corpsman. “I’d say we have about two minutes.”
The words were hardly out before Pia heard the ramp lowering.
“Gunny, we’re gonna need your help.”
Pia nodded her approval at the crew chief, and Gunnery Sergeant Anderton unbelted and headed to the back.
“Everyone stay on comm. Velazquez, Lingo, shoot anything that has more than four legs. Doc, you guys have ninety seconds to do a sweep, then we’re outta here.” Pia’s crew all voiced their understanding, and with that they were off.
She hated being left behind like this. She hated staying in the safety of the flight deck while her crew exposed themselves to danger. But more than all that, she hated the cowardly feeling of relief that crept over her.
Pia kept her gaze inside and focused on her instruments. The dusty, barren red rock spread out before her was interesting, but the dismembered and shredded remains of a squad’s worth of Marines turned her stomach. Her heart leapt to her throat when she saw a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye.
But it wasn’t the cans, not yet. They were still a minute fifteen out. No, it was Doc Mierzejewski—Ski—trying to coerce the golden retriever to come with him, but the dog wouldn’t leave his handler. Anytime Ski got too close, the golden would charge to his feet and growl with neck hair standing on end.
Pia was just about to tell him to move on, that they only had sixty seconds left, when Gunny spoke over the freq.
“We found one, boss. Little black lab led us right to her Marine. But he’s injured something fier
ce, and stuck under a wrecked LightTac.”
“Can you get him out?”
“Yes, ma’am, but we need time and Ski to get his butt over here.”
Pia turned to her co–pilot. “How big’s the herd?”
“Couple hundred, but that’s only in the main body. Advance is only a dozen or so.”
“Velazquez?”
“We can buy them time, Skipper.”
Pia felt the floor decks rumble with the charge of the plasma rifles.
“Gunny, you’ve got your time. Get him out.”
“Already on it, ma’am,” the crew chief grunted.
The first of the cans crested the lip of the plateau, and Pia felt her gut clench.
They looked like dogs, but their hair was coarser, longer, wilder. They scuttled on six legs like insects and had razor–sharp, six–inch claws at the end of all of them. They were the size of a short human and as fast as a cheetah. They could filet you before you even realized they were there. And they were smart.
After pausing a moment to howl in unison, the dozen or so cans that made up the vanguard of the herd threw themselves at the shuttle.
Pia felt the shudder of a plasma rifle discharge and watched the lead can drop.
But there were more behind it.
She realized then there would always be more.
Present
Pia stood on the beach. The soft pink sand squished between her toes and the warm summer sun shone down on her, sending beads of sweat down her back. Normally this would have put a smile on her face. Normally this would have calmed her. But now she didn’t know what to think or feel.
A fair–skinned man approached her. He was wearing a multi–colored flowered shirt and clashing black–and–green striped swim trunks. His hair was cut in a familiar military buzz, so blonde it was almost white. He was nearly a decade older than Pia, but his blue eyes sparkled with a hidden mirth Pia was instantly jealous of.
War Stories Page 28