Corpsman

by Jonathan P. Brazee

  No one they had spotted so far seemed to be on a combat footing. The PIP command had to know the Marines had landed, but the idea that the Marines would send forces forward didn’t seem to have occurred to them.

  Liege noted the numbers, weapons, position, and direction of movement in her journal. At least two of the other two-man teams probably had the four soldiers in sight as well and would be recording their sightings. Writing down observations in a physical journal might have been pretty primitive, but until they needed to, they would use no electronic equipment.

  When the time came to report to the MEB, they wouldn’t even have to break radio silence, at least from their current position. They could take micro images of their journal entries, stuff them into a small carrier pod, then shoot the pod from a small handheld crossbow. The little crossbow could shoot a pod over 10 klicks, and once it hit the ground, it would emit a tiny microburst, sending the intel back to the MEB. The message would be highly scrambled, and the transmission shielded, but still, most advanced surveillance measures could tell that something had been transmitted and approximately from where, but the contents should be secure.

  The little crossbow could also send a PCC-4 out to about half that distance. They could then “shoot” the transponder with a small encoded low-watt laser, and the transponder would redirect the message back to the MEB. The only issue with that was that the PCC-4 had to be in direct line-of-site, so when employed, it was rarely at the full five klicks. Both of these methods were used when they wanted to keep their presence, or at least location, from being discovered. Once compromised, or when back-and-forth comms were needed, they would break radio silence. At that point, though, as Fidor kept reminding them, they might as well erect flashing neon signs shaped like fingers to point out their positions.

  The team had been in position for a little over ten hours so far. Liege and Warden had spotted 18 foot soldiers during that time, but only eight had been mobile. The rest were as a makeshift barricade at the north end of Route Grape—Highway 21—as it entered the range of hills right at what used to be the small waystation, rest-stop, and resort, now abandoned and destroyed by previous fighting. One of the Gentry-made Patties stood guard at the barricade, its short-barreled 50mm chaingun aimed down Grape to the south. Without active AIs, Liege thought the Patty was an R-variant—Warden was pretty sure it was an S. It didn’t make much difference, especially as it was acting as a pillbox, but Liege was sure the slight indentation of the skirt over the road-wheels proved it was an R.

  An ancient, but still impressive, Koft 79mm field gun guarded the approach from the north. The old canon had very primitive target acquisition, but no one could deny the efficacy of its chain-delayed shape rounds. A direct hit could take out a Davis.

  Neither Liege nor Warden could figure out why the barricade was on the north side of the range. It would seem to have made more sense for it to be on the south side, where the Patty could take any approaching Federation armor under fire. Even at its present position, they both thought it made more sense to turn the big Koft around as well, oriented to the south.

  “How do you think the captain’s doing?” Liege asked as the two scanned for more activity.

  First Team had been inserted far to the west, and they had a longer march to get into position, mirroring Second Team on the other side of Grape. The rest of the company was scattered over the continent at the most likely avenues of approach toward the capital.

  “I doubt they’re in position yet.”

  “You don’t think so? I’m guessing he had them move through the day,” Liege said. “If I had to bet, I’d say they are in position now.”

  “Well, then bet on it?”

  “What?”

  “I think they’ll make it in tonight. You think they’re already in position. Let’s bet on who’s right?” the gunny said.

  “Bet what?”

  “I don’t know. You choose.”

  Liege turned to look at his face. He had his Temperest binos to his eyes as he scanned for more sign. She couldn’t tell if he was serious or not, but she decided to take him at his word.

  “A case of beer of the winner’s choice,” she said.

  “Done,” he replied, never lowering his binos.

  Liege was still having a little problem reading her team leader. After seeing him in action, she was confident that his rep as an operator was on point. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever worked with someone as capable in warcraft. But, when his warrior hat was off, sometimes he seemed hard and aloof, but other times, he was casual and easy-going. He could be quite charming at times, but he could also be hot-and-cold.

  As part of a two-man team, Liege couldn’t object to Warden’s military capabilities, but she thought she’d rather be teamed with Moose or one of the others. She understood them better, and that kind of connection could be the difference between life and death.

  “Well, if we’re going to emplace the seisos tonight, we need to get some rest. I’m going to catch some Z’s now. Give me two hours, then wake me up and I’ll spell you.”

  With that, Warden leaned back, pulled his cover over his eyes, and looked to immediately have fallen asleep.

  Warden seemed to go through life as a coiled spring, but as he drifted off, his body seemed to relax for once. He sort of settled into the crook of the roots that the two had used to form their positions, his leg falling slightly to the side to rest against Liege’s leg.

  She shook her head, amazed at how quickly he’d gone under, then pulled back up her binos. If he started snoring, she’d kick him awake. Otherwise, it was just her for the moment, and she still had a lot of territory to watch.

  Chapter 31

  Liege crept forward on her belly, all senses on alert. She had a seiso and an ACS ready to place. The seiso was a simple vibration recorder. In soil such as that around Grape, it could detect footfalls out to about 100 meters. This close to the highway itself, it would be able to detect any vehicle driving past from much farther away.

  The Atmospheric Contaminant Sampler had an odd, nautilus-shaped gathering cone. Contact strips were attached inside the swirling chamber, and when suspended particles touched the strips, they stuck and were analyzed. The MEB’s battle AIs could extract an amazing amount of intel based on what particles could be collected.

  The seiso was passive; the power to record the vibrations came from the vibrations themselves. The ACS, on the other hand, needed internal power. However, it was very, very efficient, needing a mere 3 nanoamperes to run. It was heavily shielded, and if anything was picked up, it should be lost in the clutter of insect and animal life present in the area.

  The team needed to emplace the sensors for full coverage of Grape. They didn’t have eyes on most of the length of the highway as it made its way through the hills. Recon was the king of surveillance, so the team had more than enough options in their bag of tricks. The problem was not so much in the gathering of the data, but in the reception and then passing it on. Seisos could be hard wired, but even shielded, the fact that there was a wire running through the brush could be a red flag in and of itself. It doesn’t take high-tech gear to simply walk back along a wire to see where it came from.

  To recover the data, the team would either have to physically pick it up or trigger a data dump. Picking it back up meant the team would be exposed, but a data dump was at a significant risk of being picked up by PIP counter-surveillance.

  Liege reached out, gripped the dirt, and pulled herself forward. It had taken the four of them three hours to cover the first klick, but the last 200 meters had been at two hours and counting.

  She heard a low mumble, and she froze, arms halfway out again. She strained to make out what she’d heard. At first, there was nothing, and she started to relax until a clear, “So what’re you going to do?” reached her through the darkness.

  Liege carefully brought her arms back and pulled her Ruger out of her thigh holster. She slipped the Ruger under her chest, using her body as a
shield.

  Liege couldn’t make out what whoever was there was going to do, but the first person said, “I don’t know. That’s a big step. Have you thought about the consequences?”

  What’s a big step? Liege wondered. Getting married? Going to school? Deserting?

  She saw movement, and two shadows stepped into view. They kept walking slowly in her direction.

  “Yeah. I told you, though. I haven’t made up my mind, so you keep quiet about it,” the second soldier said.

  Under her chest, she reached with her thumb to flip the safety lever. Her Ruger was a fine piece of hardware. It fired a 2mm dart at hypersonic speeds. Best of all, it was relatively quiet. The mag coils could be detected by surveillance, but only as a momentary flash of energy. If these two discovered her, she’d take them out. They didn’t know she was there, and she should be able to zero them before they could react. Of course, when they didn’t show up whenever they were due back, there would be a search, and the PIP command would know someone was out there. The team’s mission would turn from passive to active.

  “Hey, hold up, man. I’ve got to take a piss,” the second man said.

  Oh, fucking great.

  The shadow stopped a couple of meters from her, and a moment later, she heard the stream of urine hit the leaves. The sound started strong and stayed strong longer than Liege would have thought it physically possible before it finally petered out.

  The shadow turned. If they had night vision devices, she would be caught dead to rights. There was no reaction, though, as the two men started walking again.

  NVDs were extremely common. Even civilians could buy them easily. Liege didn’t have her monocle on at the moment as she didn’t want any collected light to reflect off her cheekbone, but these two soldiers wouldn’t have that same concern. So she was surprised that neither of them seemed to have NVDs deployed.

  The two kept casually walking down the side of the road, one stepping less than two meters from Liege’s head. She was just inside the line of foliage, but it really wasn’t dense enough to give her full cover. The two soldiers didn’t stop their conversation, however, as they walked past. Even if they didn’t see her, Liege was surprised they couldn’t hear the pounding of her heart; it was beating so hard.

  She waited a good five minutes after they’d passed before she pulled herself up that last meter. She re-holstered her Ruger, then pulled out the seiso and the ACS. Both were easy to set up. In less than a minute, she was scooching back into the bushes lining Grape.

  Due to her delay, she was the last one back to the rally point.

  “Did that guy piss on you?” Warden asked as she crept in.

  “No, but it was close.”

  “I was about to tap them,” Moose whispered.

  “And I never even saw them. Moose told me,” Fidor said, almost sounding disappointed.

  “Well, that was fun,” Warden said. “But we’ve got a long way back, and Dannyboy’s probably about ready to shit his trou wondering where we are.”

  Liege had to smile as Fidor led the way out of the RP. Dannyboy was great, but more than a little high-strung. With half of the team on this little mission and without comms, he’d be beside himself until they got back.

  Which wouldn’t be for another three hours at least. Liege shrugged and followed Fidor as they carefully made their way through the trees.

  Chapter 32

  Liege’s gut was beginning to get that familiar clenching feeling. She was only three days into her FIP, so it was a little early. The Fecal Inhibitor Protocol, better known the “butt-plugger,” was used when passing a bowel movement would be “inconvenient.” With the recon culture of leave no traces, that meant that recon Marines were perhaps the biggest customers of the little bottles of syrup.

  Liege was not totally on board with the protocol. As a medical professional, she knew that the more a person’s body was screwed with, the more chance there was that there would be consequences downstream. The much feared Brick, for example, had never existed until after regeneration became possible.

  From a practical point of view, sure, the butt-plugger worked to eliminate elimination, at least the solid kind, but in another three or four days (probably three for her, if her gut was any indication), she would let loose with all of what was building up inside of her. When that happened, a person could be indisposed for a good 15 or 20 minutes.

  She gave her belly a little pat, then lifted her binos again. Several more armored vehicles had arrived at the checkpoint, including a Tonya tank. This was vital information, she thought, but still, Warden hadn’t initiated forwarding any of the intel they were gathering.

  Liege gave Warden a quick glance. He was taking notes in his journal, which was all well and good, but whatever he was writing wouldn’t do the MEB any good unless they could see it.

  Sometimes, Liege thought the recon community went overboard. Sure, recon was the elite of the Corps, on par with the Navy SEALS. But sometimes, she felt they took the high-speed, low-drag culture too far. Here she was, using an old-fashioned optical Zeiss when Zeiss also made the best, highest-tech electronic binos in the world. Liege could look at that Tonya, hit the analytics, and then with one blink of the eye, send all of that info to the MEB where they could make use of it. The emission of a shielded upload like that would be very hard to pick up.

  She and Warden had discussed the subject a few hours ago. His position, which reflected the recon party line, was that if something important needed to be passed up, then they would use whatever means they had at their disposal to get the intel up the chain. However, with the Navy overhead, the fact that three more Patties and a Tonya had joined the party would have already been known. The team was there to observe what the Sunlight City might miss and to be ready to take any action as necessary should the PIP forces advance.

  Liege understood that. But she also felt wasted at the moment. They weren’t doing anything.

  She was getting to know Warden better, though. With just the two of them in their hide, they were stuck with each other for conversation. Quietly, and slowly, they each told parts of their stories.

  Warden Johansson had been a member of the Youth Brigade back on Ostermein, so he and Liege had that in common. The Youth Brigade tried to portray itself as a conservative, patriotic group of young people, but in reality, it wasn’t any different than the gangs in Liege’s favela—just bigger and better funded. Like Liege, he’d joined the Marines to break free of the pattern, and like her, he’d accidently found a home in the service.

  What surprised Liege the most, though, was that, despite his hard-ass reputation, and despite his sometimes awkward social manners, he was actually personable when he wasn’t trying to be the super-leader of Marines. Liege had finally called him out on that, and he’d ruefully smiled and told her he was trying to put into practice what he’d read in Better Leaders, Better Federation, one of the self-help books currently making the rounds. Warden was a certified hero, but he’d told Liege his last sergeant major, with whom he didn’t get along, had accused him of relying on his combat record to advance in the Corps, and that he’d better learn leadership if he ever wanted to get past gunnery sergeant.

  Liege thought that sergeant major had to be a jealous jerk. Warden had the leadership qualities, even if he didn’t quite realize that about himself yet. She sure didn’t have any problems following him despite having a few misgivings early on.

  She’d even felt comfortable enough to let him know what had happened at the Golden Mountain Resort and her aborted marriage. She was rarely so open. Only Leticia and Rex, her temporary husband, had known the whole story until then, and, she had to admit, it was a pretty good story. Some of it was lost forever in an alcohol-induced haze, but what she did remember was pretty epic.

  In turn, Warden told her about his two-year marriage and fathering a son with his ex. The boy was ten now, going to school and playing beatball. Warden was both proud of the boy, but also worried about him acting out
. Liege could tell that Warden blamed himself for the latter, for not being there all the time.

  Getting people to open up to her was nothing new. People had done that all her life. It was a little rarer when she opened up to others, at least with anything consequential.

  Liege pulled out her last bag of Sprockets, popped two into her mouth, then nudged Warden with her foot, holding out the bag. Geedunk was a big no-no out in the field, but one that was usually ignored. Warden reached over, and, breaking time-honored Sprockets protocol, looked inside so he could pull out two of the venerated green ones. He simply smiled as Liege stuck out her tongue at him.

  “All hands, all hands, Threat Condition Alpha. I repeat, Threat Condition Alpha. There has been a Class 1 Event. Stand by for further instructions,” suddenly came over their earbuds.

  Liege dropped the bag of Sprockets and raised her binos, glassing the checkpoint below. Nothing looked out of the ordinary.

  “What’s going on?” she asked Warden despite knowing that he was just as in the dark as she was.

  For the MEB to pass that on AC, all circuits, meant something big had happened, and the command didn’t care if opposing forces picked up the broadcast. The PIP forces would know that something had been passed, even if they (hopefully) didn’t know just what it was. The AC was the most efficient and quickest way for everyone in the MEB to get the message.

  Liege looked 30 meters to her right. Moose was looking back at her from under his and Fidor’s tarnkappe, his shoulders shrugged and hands out in the universal what’s-going-on sign. She returned the same gesture.

  “All hands, all hands. The FS Sunlight City has suffered damage from an outside source. She is withdrawing from orbit until a full assessment has been made. We believe the damage was done by a PIP diplomatic shuttle that was arriving to conduct negotiations. All Federation forces are now in Threat Condition Alpha. We put the probability of offensive action by PIP forces at 82%. Stand by for further instructions.”