While her warrior heart wanted to stay with them, that wasn’t her job, and they weren’t even in her company. The best thing she could do was get her wounded back, and set up the next redoubt so the Delta corporal and his Marines could fall back when they needed to, so she turned and grabbed her people. The one who seemed to be coming around she ended up ordering to just hold still; it was actually easier in the low gravity to carry them like baggage than try to help the man move under his own power.
Coming in sight of her troops’ position at a major intersection, she saw they had sorted themselves out and pushed a couple of utility trams into place as barriers, catecorner across. This gave them some cover and allowed everyone to fire in the two directions the enemy was likely to come, but also meant that they might get hit from both directions. It all depended on how organized the enemy was. Were these bugs just a bunch of killer drones, or did they have some kind of radio command and control system? She’d seen no technology on them other than the blaster and swords, but she knew the Meme used bio-radios, so that proved nothing.
Pointing toward the narrower of the two corridors, she told the task force, “The Delta troops will be falling back from there. Make sure you ID your targets and do not fire on friendlies. Watch your sectors and your HUDs. Someone take a look at these two.”
Checking the rear of the position, she identified the larger of the corridors as their route toward the down-ramp to the lower level. A barricade icon occupied the spot, so she pushed her comms through to its occupants, part of Charlie company. “Redoubt C-5, this is First Sergeant Repeth, Bravo Company. Stay alert to friendlies falling back into your lane. We have engaged the enemy and they are assaulting in battalion strength, but we have inflicted heavy casualties.”
“Roger,” came the laconic reply of the Charlie squad leader occupying the position. “We’ll try to shoot bugs only.”
Taking a deep breath, Repeth switched among HUD views, first checking the battalion-level synthesis. The originally circular base perimeter now looked like a giant letter D, with the enemy pushing in from the east. Hot spots showed combat at other locations, including one point deep behind the Marine lines. She zoomed into that area, and watched as an Alpha Company reaction force in platoon strength moved toward the incursion. It looked like the bugs had broken in from above and were trying to establish a beachhead, but the Old Man had it under control.
She glanced up at the overhead, wondering if they had to worry about other attacks from above, and she noticed several holes showing starfield behind them. Crap. If one of those bugs finds that hole and starts firing down on us, we’re going to be in a world of hurt. In fact, the thin layer of ceiling and dirt between them and the outside now looked like a distinct liability.
“Chief Massimo,” she said, “you see the overhead? Those holes? I’m concerned we could get flanked in three dimensions.”
“Damn, Top. You’re right.” The man stared at the offending opening. “Wish we had some claymores.”
“Engineers put all we had up on the surface already, on proximity. Probably why we haven’t had any more overhead assaults than we have. Any other ideas?”
“Command detonated grenades will clear the opening one time, if the enemy doesn’t realize what they are.”
Repeth nodded. “I think I can worm through there. If I can, I’ll plant some under the dirt. Do you have a remote sensor left?”
“Sorry, Top. We lost them all back there.”
“Anyone got a spy-eye? No? Crap.” Repeth waved at the Marines. “Collect me up a couple of dozen grenades off the casualties – anyone that can’t use them. Load them in my backrack. Dump the rations if you have to.” Once she had her utility compartments loaded with grenades, she carefully gauged the opening above and jumped, catching its edge with her hands and pulling herself slowly up through the hole.
Performing a careful three-sixty, she could see dozens of big beetles stalking the landscape, tearing all the surface facilities to shreds with their limbs or blasting them with their green-plasma guns. Many more, hundreds perhaps, stood frozen or had fallen broken onto the surface. It looked like at least half of the enemy personnel carriers were knocked out, but that still left at least a hundred. Above, several of those flying shark craft cruised with seeming impunity.
Yeah, some dedicated fighter craft would have been really useful, as well as some camouflaged anti-air missiles, she thought. But no one really expected this kind of serious ground assault. I mean, what the hell do they intend to gain out of it?
Repeth racked her brains, but couldn’t think of anything that justified the effort of trying to capture, rather than just hammer down, Grissom base. What could they want? Intelligence, maybe?
She could see several groups of insects digging at the soil in groups, clearly trying to break in from above, but none of them were too near her. A short distance away, one bug seemed to explode into pieces as a proximity mine went off.
Easing out low, she popped her backrack compartments, disgorged two dozen grenades onto the ground next to her and began to shove them under the dusty soil. Several of them she tossed ten to twenty meters away from herself, trying to spread the kill zone out while still staying next to her gopher hole and watching in all directions.
One of the bugs spotted her and raised its blaster in her direction, so she dove through the opening, grabbing the edge on the way and reversing as soon as the blue electrical discharge cleared. Her HUD fuzzed for a moment but recovered. Better shielding on the armor’s electronics, she added to her mental list of lessons to report.
Raising her helmet just enough to see several bugs hurrying her way, she dropped gently to the floor below. As soon as she saw movement against the starfield, she triggered half the grenades. Maybe some of the other half would survive the blast and remain for a second round.
Dust and debris fell slowly as she shot up to look out the gopher hole again. A quick survey showed all of the nearby bugs dismembered, but several more heading her way. Dropping down again, she turned to Massimo and Dasko. “More are coming, and they’re gonna get through. If not this time, than the next. We have to either lay heavy fire on that hole, or move.”
“Trying to hold them off when they have the high ground is a losing proposition,” Chief Massimo said.
Just then Repeth saw more movement so she triggered the second set of bombs. A much smaller blast blurred the hole with dust, and a blown-off bug leg fell through. “No more grenades,” she said.
“Heating up anyway,” the chief said, pointing down the corridor.
Four Marines carried another, led by the Delta corporal, hustling toward them while waving their weapons backwards and firing at nothing from time to time. “We got a bunch with the grenades,” the man said as he came up, “but there were too many.”
At that moment an avalanche of bugs rounded the far corner, and Massimo’s railgun opened up. The stream of steel ball bearings hosed into the mass, blowing the critters apart. A missile from the launcher followed, turning the mob into what looked like a tub of blue-gray crab pieces at a buffet.
“Corporal, cover that hole,” Repeth said, pointing upward. “Take positions in an inward-facing ring, and shoot at any movement.”
The Delta fireteam did, just in time, blasting at the edges as bugs showed themselves then hastily pulled back.
“Chief, we gotta go,” Repeth said.
“Wait, Top. We can take down a bunch more,” Massimo replied.
“Chief, this position is untenable. All the bugs have to do is roll some kind of grenades down on us and we’re dead. Chief.” She grabbed him and shook him. Technically he outranked her, but he was a gunnery specialist while she was the senior enlisted Marine in the company, which gave her a lot of pull.
Fortunately, pull carried the day. “All right, heavy section: let’s go. Fall back.” Massimo and the others grabbed their weapons and manhandled them toward the ramp.
“Dasko –” Repeth began, then saw something fall
through the hole, a big egg-shaped package that looked for all the world like, well, an egg. “GRENADE!” she yelled, diving for cover.
One of the Delta fireteam’s Marines, luckier or a better shot than average, put a crackling electromagnetic burst directly into the egg and it spun off to bump against a wall, then roll down the corridor toward the withdrawing weapons Marines. One of those reacted immediately, grabbing the football-sized thing and launching it a hundred meters down the corridor in a damn fine throw, where it came to rest on the ground.
Nothing happened.
Maybe the EMP knocked it out. “Go go go!” Repeth yelled as Marines opened fire around her, aiming at the hole above. “Withdraw, withdraw!” She leaped to her feet and grabbed one, then another, shoving them toward the heavies. “Withdraw and cover the rear.”
Another egg dropped through the hole as the last of Dasko’s troops backed up firing. This one fell to the floor and detonated immediately in a burst of goo. The corridor filled with vile-looking smoky fumes, and the tail-end Marine’s entire front armor began to melt.
“Shit!” she heard the woman say as she dropped her weapon and began to claw herself, as if to wipe the stuff off. Then she began to scream and thrash.
Repeth keyed her HUD to shut the Marine down, sending a command override to the woman’s cybernetics. This immediately rendered her unconscious and put her into hibernation, a last-ditch response to extreme injury. Then Repeth grabbed her by the neck handle and hauled her backward with one hand, firing her machinegun with the other.
“I need some cover,” Repeth said as she retreated, and a moment later two more Marines joined her as rearguard, blasting away with their weapons as more and more bugs dropped down the hole. Those ignored the gunk on the floor and walls, seemingly unaffected.
Just in time, Repeth felt the floor tip under her and realized she had reached the top of the ramp. As she and the other two backed down it, they passed Massimo with his missile launcher.
Once they were clear, he slapped the gunner on the shoulder, who fired on that command. The missile leaped off the rails and shot down the corridor to explode against one of the utility vehicles they had been using as cover.
Immediately an unusually large explosion vaporized the group of bugs there. “Good shot,” Massimo said. Repeth realized he must have targeted the vehicle’s fuel cell, enhancing the blast.
Dust falling from overhead alerted her to the danger. “Massimo, get back! They’re coming in from the top again!”
The chief and his missile gunners grabbed the launcher and ran down the ramp just as another egg fell. The edge of the goo splashed their lower legs as they ran, and their armor immediately began to smoke.
Repeth pitched the unconscious casualty she carried over the barrier at the bottom of the ramp, the one occupied by Charlie company Marines, and turned to help those three. She could see the stuff eating holes in their leg armor, right in front of her eyes. “It’s acid! Strip it off!” she yelled, grabbing the missile launcher to allow the three to deal with their problem. Once she had handed the weapon off to those behind the barrier, she helped them pop off the leg plates and boots.
Horrible wounds awaited her gaze beneath the hard ferrocrystal-reinforced plastic armor. She could see the stuff keep eating into their bodies, and wondered when it would stop. They weren’t reacting to the pain; they all must have been aware enough to shut down all feeling in their legs. Well trained, they waited without panicking while their fellows figured out how to help them.
“You Marines, two each, grab these three,” Repeth ordered. “Set them down behind the barrier. The enemy is right behind us, and they’re using acid bombs that look like footballs. Shoot them with EMP cannon if you can. It might stop them from detonating.” She hopped over the barrier, following the six with the wounded Massimo and his two gunners.
“Fire extinguishers. Get all you can.” She pointed down the corridor, where she could see at least two on the walls. “Bring them here. And go get that alien sword.” One had fallen skittering down the ramp to land by the barrier.
As soon as they handed her one of the cylinders of compressed CO2, she blasted Massimo’s lower legs. In a moment she had frozen them up to the knee, about the extent of the corrosion, and the stuff stopped advancing. “Massimo, hibernate yourself now. I’ll wake you up if we need you.”
The chief looked at her through his faceplate and grimaced, then nodded. A moment later consciousness faded from his eyes.
“Both of you too,” she told the others. As soon as they were out, she froze their legs as well, using a second and then a third extinguisher to make sure the job was done well. Can’t let that stuff get into their bloodstream or we’ll lose them, she told herself.
Then she lopped their legs off with the alien sword.
She heard someone retching in her comm, but legs could be regrown by the Eden Plague. Whole Marines, especially brave and skilled heavy gunners, couldn’t. Coming up on the Bravo company push, she called, “Repeth here. I am at redoubt Charlie Five with the weapons section. We have taken heavy casualties. Request bearers and relief.”
“Roger, Top,” came Captain Miller’s calm voice. “How’s Massimo?”
“Lost his legs, but he should live, if any of us do,” she replied. “But he’s down.”
“Understood,” she said. A moment later the CO herself led a fireteam up and they began grabbing downed Marines.
“Getting thin, ma’am?” Repeth asked.
“You asked for the reserve. We’re it,” she responded with a smile in her voice. “We’re giving them hell, but we’re slowly getting our asses kicked,” she went on. “Tell your people to continue their delaying action, assist Charlie here, but don’t wait too long. We’ve lost the surface. Delta has taken seventy percent casualties and is combat ineffective. The Old Man and Alpha Company are keeping the penetrations contained, but Bravo and Charlie are both down about twenty percent and rising fast.”
Repeth nodded. “We’ll do our best.”
“As soon as you frog back from this position, head for shaft number one, get in and seal up tight. We’re going to execute the collapse protocols.” Then Miller was gone.
“All right, ladies, you heard the boss,” Repeth said to her little command grouped behind the Charlie firing line. “Gunners, get that railgun and the missile launcher set up to fire over their heads up that ramp. Dasko, you and yours have to cover us. We will be withdrawing down that corridor to the deep shaft. Captain Miller will be waiting there.”
As the heavy gunners emplaced their weapons, the Charlie squad opened up as targets appeared at the top of the ramp. Several footballs rolled wobbling down, and Repeth joined the others in shifting to blast them to bits with aimed fire from multiple weapons. This caused the acid inside to leak, but without the explosive spreader charge, all it did was smoke and fizzle in place.
“Good thing they don’t have acid hoses,” Dasko said.
“Bite your tongue, Sergeant,” Repeth said. “Damn, I’m getting low on ammo. Air, too.” Her O2 gauge read thirty-five minutes. They’d been fighting for just over an hour. The suits were supposed to be good for at least two, but exertion had cut that. Afterward they had ten minutes of oxygen in their internal cybernetics, stretchable to a lot longer if they went into hibernation.
“Why don’t we just pull back now, if we’re going to lose the base?” Dasko asked.
“When did you start thinking, you dumb grunt?” Repeth replied with cheerful sarcasm. “We hold because we are ordered to hold. Maybe we’re buying time to get more wounded out, or the squids that are in their weapons control rooms. I don’t know.”
“But –”
“Dasko, dammit, just shut up and soldier.” To a Marine, that was an effective insult. The man shut up.
Another cluster of acid footballs rolled down the ramp, this time followed by a rush of bugs. “Get the eggs,” Repeth ordered her remaining line Marines. The heavy gunners ripped into the insectoids with r
ailgun rounds and a missile.
One egg made it through, to splatter the barrier and parts of the Charlie squad with goo. Several fell back writhing while others held the line. “Dasko, fill in,” Repeth ordered, and the sergeant and his remaining five Marines surged up to the barrier.
Blue bolts crashed into the barricade and two more Marines went down, and a bug reached far enough to smash his sword through the helmet of another, before suddenly the attack ran out of steam.
As the last enemy died twitching on the floor, Repeth began slapping Marines on their helmets rather than trying to sort out Charlie and Bravo comm channels. “Fall back,” she broadcast on maximum external speaker, hoping the tiny bit of atmosphere left would carry the sound. Her own Marines heard her just fine on the company channel, and quickly pulled up the heavy weapons to fall back again.
The Charlie Marines who were left saw what was happening and apparently decided they had better follow suit, so they grabbed their wounded and beat feet as Repeth’s people did the same.
As they passed Dasko’s original position, a head popped out of the weapons emplacement access corridor. Repeth almost shot it in reflex before she stopped herself. As the rest bounded past, she saw the ground force warrant and sergeant had left their railgun control center in their flimsy emergency suits. Without any idea of what comm channel they were on, she just blasted them with her external speaker and waved. “Follow us to the shaft!”
They did, but she had to grab them and propel them along, as their suits did not have stabilization jets and they didn’t have the enormous strength and speed of the Marines’ cybernetic augmentation. Repeth almost dropped the bug sword she still held, but at the last moment she tucked it under an arm and held onto it. It had proven useful so far, and at least would make a nice war trophy.
The tunnel shook and parts of the ceiling broke loose as they ran under it. “What the hell?” she mumbled.
“Looks like the bugs are getting impatient,” Miller’s voice came over her comm. “Before we lost all of them the sensors showed they brought in some kind of digging apparatus.”
Plague Wars 06: Comes the Destroyer Page 33