Steel Walls and Dirt Drops

by Black, Alan

  Chapter Sixty

  Second Moraft shouted at Trooper Nine Kranich. "What the hell is with you? You're supposed to be some hot weapons expert and you can't clear that corridor so we can get reinforcements in here?"

  "Dammit, Mister Moraft. We ran into a shit storm out there."

  Moraft turned to her Trooper One. "What went down, One."

  The woman grimaced holding a bandage to the side of her face. "We ran flat into Raza from India Squad. Clearing her took all of Kranich's special explosives. We expected to get all of McPherson's people when we blew into them, but she wasn't there."

  "What do you mean she wasn't there?"

  "She’d pulled almost everyone else back down the corridor. She left Raza and some rookies in place. That bitch Raza is more of a heller in a firefight than she is in the sack. We damn near didn't get past her. She took out three of our people in the firefight. I got the bitch in the end; bloodied her myself. I saw her fall before some snot-nosed little rookie pulled her into a room and locked the hatch."

  Moraft snorted. "Did you dig her out?"

  "I didn't see any need. We kept moving down the corridor. We still needed to get McPherson cleared out. We found her, but got shot to pieces trying to get to her. Sorry, Mister Moraft, McPherson has a lot more help than Jackson told us. That’s where we lost our other trooper. I couldn't get a count of how many there were."

  "What are they using for weapons?"

  "A whole damn arsenal, Theda. They even tossed a grenade at us. Bloody hell, Theda; I would have stayed on the attack but I saw her call in a combat suit just before I had to bug out."

  "A combat suit?" Moraft asked in amazement. "We are well and truly frakked."

  "Roger that, Theda. They are going to eat our lunch and still have room for two desserts and a bowl of prunes."

  Trooper Three’s three-man team raced into engineering. Turning, they slammed the big double hatches closed and clamped them shut. All three of them scrambled away from the hatch and ducked behind huge banks of machinery. He shouted, "Incoming, Deuce. We can't stop a frakking suit with these popguns."

  Moraft turned to Kranich. "Well? You’re the expert, what’ve we got that will open up a combat suit?"

  "I’ve got nothing that won't open up the Kiirkegaard to naked space at the same time," he said. A booming clang rang out as if someone was pounding sledge hammers on the steel hatchway.

  Trooper Three called out, "Hey Deuce, someone’s knocking at the hatch. I think it’s for you."

  Major Paradise ran up to Moraft. His face was beet red and his hair was sticking out every which way. He grabbed Moraft by the shoulder and spun her around to face him. She shrugged slightly and his hand slid off. He shouted into her face. "What the hell are you doing in here? Get your team out there and defend these engines."

  She looked into his eyes, then looked at Trooper One and said, "I should’ve taken retirement. I’m too old for this."

  Paradise spit, "I am ordering you to get out there and clear those corridors."

  Moraft said calmly, "No, Major Paradise. I don't take orders from you or any of your kind. We’re done here. I’ve lost over half of my squad. I am not losing any more. McPherson was right. This needs to be over and done with."

  An amplified voice boomed out, "This is Second Vark. I’m in a fully functional combat suit. I am prepared to rip this hatch open and tear you some new assholes. However, Third McPherson tells me that I've got to give you the opportunity to surrender without more APES dying. Come on, Theda. It isn't worth it anymore."

  Trooper Three shouted to Moraft, "That's the straight skinny, Deuce. This is one for the history books. We’re done here."

  Paradise shouted, "You are not done until I tell you that you are done. Moraft, get your ass back out there and do your job."

  Second Moraft shook her head, "No. I don't think so. I hate like hell to lose, but it’s suicide to go out there. Troopers, we call it a day. Weapons down and open the hatch."

  Paradise screeched, "No." He pulled out his weapon and before anyone could react, he put half a dozen needles through Second Moraft's brain. He had the lightning fast reflexes of a FAC pilot. It was too late for Moraft, but Trooper One slammed Paradise’s arm sideways, knocking the muzzle away and in a fraction of a heartbeat chambered a round and put a needle into Paradise’s chest. As fast as she was, hers was the third round to hit Paradise as Trooper Three and Trooper Nine Kranich both blew holes in the man.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Misha sat quietly in her day office. It had been a busy four days since they took back engineering. They made adjustments and completed the fastest jumps possible to Heaven's Gate. The last jump was six hours behind them. It put them well into the Heaven's System. Britaine had ordered a navigation jump as close to the station as safety protocols allowed.

  She expected to get a message from him at any moment announcing the time of their arrival. She expected it to be a hand delivered message. He was using lower-ranking spacers from the intelligence office as couriers. Communications was still inoperable. They had learned since jumping into the Heavens System that most of their external communications were down as well.

  Misha replayed the whole deployment in her mind, re-working and re-thinking every action and decision from the time she stepped aboard the Kiirkegaard. She knew from her perspective, she could not have done anything differently given the circumstances. She did what she believed was right. However, what she thought and what higher command thought might be two entirely different trains of logic. At times, she was convinced that no one in the 1392nd would come away without charges, whether it was failure to obey a command, cowardice in the face of the enemy, or simple support of a mutiny. Other times she was sure she had taken the only logical and legal course of action.

  Colonel Britaine ordered all non-essential personnel locked down in quarters. Normally, that would have included all APES, but Britaine didn't trust anyone who hadn't actively supported him during the aborted mutiny. The continued breakdown of communications convinced him there were still mutineers underfoot. Misha assigned Takki-Homi's Charlie Squad to secure the command and control center. Britaine continued to blockade himself. Britaine was so paranoid he refused to believe the death of Major Paradise had completely broken the back of the mutiny.

  Takki-Homi came through the mutiny with his squad intact. It was a true testament to his leadership and command style. Misha thought, not for the first time since the mutiny, that Takki-Homi would make a better third-level commander than she ever would.

  She had Aardrmicksdottir’s Joker Squad and her own Able Squad doing continuous security duty throughout Kiirkegaard. She tried to do complete sweeps from one end of the vessel to the other, but with only two squads, it was practically impossible in a spacecraft this large. Plus, she needed to have APES security posted at sick bay for the wounded and injured, as both loyal spacers and mutineers were bedded there.

  Britaine also insisted she guard all mess staff during the preparation and delivery of meals to any personnel locked down in their quarters. Furthermore, she was tasked with watching over the engineering department, placing security in environmental controls and a dozen other places, and guarding people that Britaine insisted she try to watch. Misha would like to use the extra APES from Golf and India Squads, but she wasn’t sure she trusted any second-level commander who had done nothing during the mutiny. She wondered if she was becoming as paranoid as Colonel Britaine.

  Misha ordered the rest of her unit locked down in APES country. She accepted promises from all surrendering troopers that they had truly ceased all hostilities. She did not lock anyone into quarters nor did she post any guards. She left APES country open and clear. As a third-level commander, she wanted to separate those who had supported the mutiny from those who fought against it and from those who did nothing. However, she didn't have the space or the loyal troops to enforce a separation. Also, she was still not convinced that any side of the conflict would be free from repe
rcussions.

  Some changes were necessary, even though they were temporary and subject to change by higher command. She temporarily attached Na'aranna to Able Squad rather than send her back to Golf. She didn't want to put a good trooper under the command of a second who couldn't decide whether to climb a tree or cut it down. Na'aranna was an excellent trooper and an outstanding weapons technician, but she needed stronger guidance than Golf's second was willing or able to give. Hard feelings were becoming evident throughout her command. She had suspended all normal APES activities. Without training and physical exercise, the confined quarters caused tensions to rise in a few short days. Misha felt she had all the internal conflict she needed for right now, without breaking up fights between Na'aranna and her old squad.

  She cleared both Foxtrot and Hotel squad bays of all healthy APES. There seemed to be a pitiful few. The APES medics were using both bays for hospital beds as the APES standard combat medical facility was woefully inadequate for the number of wounded.

  She removed the three Joker Squad troopers who had joined with the late Second Moraft. She slotted Trooper One Spakney, Trooper Eight Dallas and Trooper Nine Yorkvina temporarily with Bravo Squad. Misha left Bravo as it was, not putting a new second in command, leaving trooper three in temporary charge. Bravo’s trooper one was confined to the hospital as her facial injury was more critical than it first appeared. Without the medical facilities on Heaven's Gate, the woman would most likely lose her eye, APES medical bays were not able to grow new ones.

  Misha had mixed emotions about adjusting some troopers on the official organization chart, but she was not upset about changing their designations. That fell well within her prerogatives as the third-level commander, but she knew they were only cyberspace data work changes.

  Troopers Kelly, Lamont and Raza were both confined to medical. Organizationally, she placed all of them in Able Squad. Both Kelly and Lamont claimed they were fit for duty. But, Lamont still had only limited use of his arm and Kelly could barely move without a limp. Trooper Raza was in very serious condition. She hadn't regained consciousness since Kelly pulled her to safety and locked them in the room off the engineering corridor. Cutler said if she woke up, she would probably survive, but she would never again climb into a combat suit for a dirt drop.

  In her daily logs, Misha noted that as they were being overrun by a superior force, Kelly pulled Raza to safety. Neither of them would be alive if she hadn’t exposed herself to incoming fire to save a comrade. It had been Kelly's only valid option even though it did expose Misha's rear to enemy attack.

  Misha's own wounds hadn't healed, but she refused to confine herself to the hospital. Her refusal stuck as there were no higher-level APES on hand to countermand her decision. She ordered Cutler to pull out any shrapnel and bandage the wounds. He had remarked that her dense muscles had kept the shards from doing any severe or permanent damage. Her left arm felt stiff, but her right side only bothered her when she twisted in a particular direction. She quickly learned not to twist in that particular direction.

  She officially transferred Dawg Squad's Trooper Oberman and Trooper Ramirez to Joker Squad. It was only another data exercise since both troopers were residing in the morgue. Misha bit her tongue to keep from crying when she designated Kilo's squad bay as a temporary morgue for APES who died during the conflict. The occupants of Kilo's bay were double and triple stacked, but they made no complaint. Displaced troopers bunked wherever they could find an empty bed.

  Her only concern with her squad was they were unable to locate a number of APES. The Kiirkegaard was too small to hide in forever, however, with the demands placed on her by Colonel Britaine and her own limited resources, she was unable to locate what she thought of as Singletary's squad. Singletary had dropped off the map. Also, on the list of missing were Able Squad's Jem Li Park, Miguel Juarez and Aimee Slezak. Further, they were not able to locate Foxtrot's Clark Portman and Joker's Greggoria Putinova.

  With the occasional help of Marshal Forrester and as time permitted, she interviewed others about Singletary. Most interviews pointed to Dawg's Trooper Wilderman. He admitted to being one of Singletary's associates before the mutiny, but denied any knowledge of what Singletary was up to now. Wilderman steadfastly maintained that all he ever did was follow the orders of Dawg's Second Bilideau. He said he was sure Singletary had a plan to get off the Kiirkegaard because the man had contingency plans for everything.

  Misha was ready for a confrontation with Singletary. She wanted it and was eager for it, but she was frustrated in that she couldn’t find the man. She knew if Singletary was as smart as Wilderman gave him credit for, then her ex-trooper one would know that he would lose any face-to-face meeting with her. She had greater resources and manpower. So, the man went rabbit: running and hiding in small places. She remembered that her father always said you can want all you want, but you don’t get just because you want.

  A knock at the hatch interrupted Misha's thoughts. She looked up to see a young spacer from the intelligence office standing at attention. "Hello, Sticks. Welcome back to APES country. You’ve been down here often enough these last few days that we might as well get you drafted into the APES and make it official."

  The young man paled and stuttered, "You can do that?"

  Misha laughed, "Of course not. We only take volunteers. And relax; we don't do that coming to attention thing when you’re reporting. So, what's up?"

  The spacer tried to relax, but ended up looking more uncomfortable than before. "Colonel Britaine is in the CNC with Buzz, I mean Major Krandiewsky. They would like you to join them on the double, or I mean, as soon as conveniently possible, ma'am."

  Misha smiled and said, "Right. Okay kid, here's the deal. You can call me sir, you can call me Third McPherson, you can call me third, trey, Misha or even just 'hey you'. But, you call me ma'am one more time and I will rip your larynx out. Do you copy me?"

  "Sir, yes sir," Sticks answered snapping to attention again.

  She just smiled at the young man and gestured for him to lead the way. She had meant it as a joke, but now it was almost as if Sticks was afraid to say anything at all. It was a quiet walk to the command and control center. Along the way, the corridors were empty and all hatches were shut and locked. At the CNC hatch, Misha nodded to Charlie Squad Trooper Four Trammler who was standing guard. The woman had a sunburner held at the ready, but she looked comfortable and relaxed. From what Misha had heard of this young woman, anyone foolish enough to think Trammler was truly relaxed was in for a world of hurt.

  Misha said, "Thanks for the escort, Sticks. You didn't get us lost even once."

  Trammler choked back the snort of a laugh, but there was no response from the Sticks, so Misha shrugged and said, "Peanut, how goes it?"

  Trammler replied, "Cool beans, Trey. Not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse."

  As Misha stepped through the hatchway, she nodded at Takki-Homi and Riffler who were resting in chairs. She looked around the room, spotted Britaine and Krandiewsky and called out "Good afternoon, gentlemen."

  Colonel Britaine waved her over to where he stood at one of the consoles. The man had been agitated since they left Gagarin and seemed to be getting worse every time she saw him. "What the hell is going on, McPherson?" Britaine demanded.

  "Something is always going on somewhere," she replied curtly. "I don't really know and I am not in any kind of a mood to play games with you. So why don't you tell me what the problem is and I’ll see if it is possible to give an answer at the level of intelligence that even you can understand." She was on the verge of shouting, but she no longer cared. "If you don't like it, then that’s tough, because I have had about all the crap I’m going to take from you and yours. Do you understand me?"

  "How dare you talk to me that way!" he shouted back. "This is my spacecraft and I am in command."

  "That is a load of donkey dust and you would know it if you had half a brain," she replied with a chill to her voice.

  "W
hat?" he said. "I will have you brought up on charges, you stupid grunt."

  Misha held up a hand to stop Takki-Homi and Riffler from rising out of their chairs. She stepped up to Britaine. Standing nose to nose she said in a voice like cold steel, "You’re in command of this vessel only because I say so and for no other reason. You want to bring me up on charges? Fine. Just get in line, Colonel. Otherwise, from this point forward you can talk to me like a rational adult with status equal to yours or as Buzz is my witness, I will drag your ass into the middle of Heaven's Gate Commons and pound your arrogant ass into a mound of useless slag."

  Britaine just stared back. She wasn't sure whether it was a look of amazement or incomprehension. She didn't really care. "Don't think I can do it? I don't care. Test me, you worthless piece of human FOD. I’ve spent the last few hours writing letters to families of dead APES. Good men and women who died because you couldn't lead a hard-on to an orgasm even if you had a cold beer and a Cameraan hooker as a guide."

  She turned to Krandiewsky, "You got something to say, Major? My glass-pack is recording, so might as well get it said now so they can bring it up when they press charges."

  Buzz smiled back and winked, "You know, Third McPherson. I think you’re showing remarkable restraint under the circumstances. In my opinion…," these three words he emphasized clearly and spoke in the direction of his own glass-pack. "In my opinion, the human race and the Allied Mobile Space Force would have been much better off if Mrs. Britaine had just given the senior Mr. Britaine a blowjob that night all those years ago."

  Misha turned back to Britaine. "Now that we have an understanding, Colonel, why don't you tell me about the bug you've got up your shorts?"

  Britaine stuttered back, "Yes, ma'am. I mean yes, Third McPherson. It is the communications."

  Misha waited, but he didn't continue. She prompted him, "They’re still down, right?"

  Krandiewsky answered, "Sort of down and therein lays the problem."