Krieger Platoon

by Jay Ivanovich

  The team leaders, with the exception of Valor’s group, all yelled for their teams and directed them across the field and into the cabin doors. The teams filed in and carefully took their seats, which didn’t seem so spacious now with everyone in full combat gear.

  Jon shoved Bag’s shoulder and yelled over the engines. “What about the one in the middle?”

  “That one is ours. Ready to be the opposing force again?”

  “Do I get to actually shoot the recruits?”

  “…No.” Bag stared at Jon with mild unease… Sometimes he wasn’t sure when Jon was kidding or not.

  Jon laughed loudly and glanced back at the team members. “Haha! But seriously, can I shoot them?”

  “I think I’m going to have to find another XO.” Bag snorted.

  Jon passed Bag an agitated look. “Don’t you ever say that again! I will stab you in the heart!”

  Bag laughed and just rolled with it. “Yeah, yeah...promises.”

  Cholius came over Bag’s radio earpiece a moment later. “Kilo Actual this is Two-Alpha, radio check, over.”

  Bag keyed one of the small holographic buttons on his wrist coms, activating the radio. “Two Alpha, this is Kilo Actual, loud and clear, how me?”

  “Hear you the same, out.”

  The rest of the team leaders all did a quick series of radio checks together; Bag waited for them to finish. “All units, this is Actual, go go go!”

  The engines of the two loaded aircraft suddenly roared up to power, the crew chiefs shut the cabin doors, and the Stealth Hawks took off low and fast back out over the water, disappearing like dust in the night sky.

  Valor walked up next to Jon and cracked his knuckles loudly, speaking in a matter of fact kind of voice. “The rest of you boys, Conrad, Wolfe, Gaillard, Baranov…and of course you Alighten… you just got promoted to armor.” Alighten replied sarcastically. “Its ok, I know I’m always your number one!”

  Valor smirked and rolled out a laugh, but then his expression turned to mild annoyance as he scanned around the parade field. “Hey Bag, where my tanks at?”

  Bag checked his watch, then looked toward the road leading to the parade field. Five minutes late already. “Uh, well they should have been here by now.”

  “Well damn, I’m getting impatient! I need my tanks before I go crazy!” Valor said it in a humorous tone, but deep down he meant it. Patience was not always his strong suite in this matter.

  “Haha, don’t worry man, they’re coming.” Bag reassured him.

  Almost as soon as Bag said that, the low rumble of armored engines and the dim glow of head lights came down the road from base. Three 8-wheeled Armored Response Vehicles, aka ARV-40 Avengers, rolled up in unison next the group and stopped. The puncture proof lattice tires, the sleek slanted armor painted in traditional Mars camouflage, the 105mm anti-vehicle turret with side mounted rocket pods, and top mounted anti-everything chain gun made Valor scream out in happiness. “OH YEAH! THOSE ARE ALL MINE! ALL MINE!”

  Three civilian contractors exited out of the drivers hatches of the still idling tanks. “You’re Krieger right?”

  Valor ran up to the first tank and ran his hand along the side of the freshly painted exterior. It wasn’t a dream, they really were BRAND NEW! “OH YEAH WE ARE!”

  The contractors jumped away from the vehicles and walked back down the road they had come from. “Good… Our job’s done then.”

  Valor began to rub the side of his tank as if it were a pet. “Oh I have missed you! I am going to treat you SO nice!”

  Alighten yelled over to him, in an effort to poke fun. Though the question was a real one. “Does your girlfriend know you’re cheating on her for a tank?”

  “Haha! Yeah she knows and she don’t care! She knows this is my baby right here!”

  Alighten wasn’t too sure about that…

  Bag marched over to Valor and leaned up against the tank, speaking in terms he knew was going to excite the man even further. “Hey Valor, I need you to mount up and teach your guys how to work these things like a team. Take them out to the desert and blow some shit up.”

  “Oh consider that done, boss. They all about to be the greatest tank crew that ever lived!” Valor responded with a smile, then turned and motioned to his team. “Conrad and Wolfe, you boys got Armor Two. Gaillard and Baranov, you got Armor Three. Mount up, we’re moving out!” The tank crews jumped into their tanks in a matter of second, did a quick radio check, then sped off down the road toward the nearest gate.

  Bag and Jon quickly rushed over into the cabin of the last helicopter. As soon as the two had entered, Jon shoved a flight helmet into Bags hands and donned one himself. “Bag, what the hell are we doing exactly?”

  “Airborne operations, low opening and all that. I want to scare the shit out of the new guys. If they can’t handle this, then I don’t want them in the platoon.” Bag strapped himself in and adjusted his helmet.

  “When’s the last time YOU jumped?” Jon shouted over the engine noise.

  “The last time we all jumped.” Bag responded honestly. He was confident he’d remembered most of the important steps… Pull chute…don’t die. That was pretty much it.

  Jon stared on with a look of dissatisfaction, clearly debating the situation. “…that was five years ago… Fuck it, let’s do it!”

  Bag smirked in response. “Hey pilot, take us up!”

  Chapter 6 – First Jump

  Matt gazed out the cabin door of the Stealth Hawk helicopter, and down at the almost pitch black desert below, as he scanned around for anything out of the ordinary. Though there was always the possibility of a hostile raider or smuggler encounter anywhere in the frontier, they were far enough from the trading hubs that it most likely wouldn’t be an issue. The threat was always there though, and Matt knew not to ignore it. It was a lesson forever seared into his mind…along with the names of friends he would no longer see…all lost to the wars of the Old World.

  Matt had earned his stripes as a squad leader in the 101st Airborne, fighting across the war-ravaged Mediterranean and the American South West. Although he’d served honorably for his entire career, a disagreement over tactics with the unit’s extremely vindictive Captain lead to Matt being brought up on false charges, ranging from insubordination, to assaulting a superior officer. The court eventually ruled in favor of the Captain, who was promoted to Major soon after, and Matt was forced to forever leave the airborne.

  Angry and frustrated even further by the Army’s blatant disregard for his side of the story, Matt transferred to a small unwanted Military Police unit in the Northern Martian territories, which even then required him to call in quite a few favors to get. On one particularly eventful evening Matt had to arrest an entire Krieger Tank crew, who had parked a main battle tank across a full section of the parking lot and refused to move it when confronted by a group of other patrons. The argument escalated, as most do when alcohol is involved, and ended in the entire bar brawling until the building somehow caught fire and the MP’s arrived.

  During the ride back to base, Matt managed to catch something about a large number of open infantry billets in the Krieger program though the drunken ramblings of the tank commander in his back seat. That comment was all it took to spark his interest and Matt straightaway looked into the program, submitted his combat resume, and was accepted within a little over a month despite his court martial. After that he went back to doing what he did best, he went back to being a soldier… All the rest was forever put in the past.

  Matt brought his focus back to the present-day and checked his watch reflexively. 04:27…good, they were making descent time. First Squad had reportedly taken another landing zone several miles to the north, but they weren’t supposed to meet up until around 05:30 regardless.

  “Oh, that is nothing but luck!” One of the team members shouted out in frustration over the noisy cabin interior. Matt turned his attention toward Ramirez, and the rest of the squad, all of whom were giving Willits gri
ef after winning another game of Texas hold’em. He hadn’t even noticed until now that the bulk of the squad was playing, except Kazowski who was sitting quietly by himself and reading some sort of old paperback novel.

  Willits tilted her head and glared at Ramirez, with a face that could only mean ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’ Ramirez shook his head and responded with further frustration. “That was beginners luck and you know it.”

  Willits smirked back, not at all willing to give in to the excuses Ramirez was trying to make for being terrible at poker. “I’ve probably played more poker than you have. That’s all you have to do when you’re on a Navy destroyer in the middle of space...for 6 months…”

  Specialist Shake yawned sleepily and leaned back in his seat. “I don’t normally play for high stakes like this. Isn’t 100 dollar buy in is a little much?”

  Hawkins voiced his agreement. “Yeah, I don’t like to lose money all that much. Especially not with Miss All-In over here.” He pointed at Willits, who grinned and shrugged. She was winning and really wasn’t afraid to show it.

  Shake nodded in agreement then likewise noticed Kazowski off by himself. He shouted over to him, friendly and inviting. “Hey, its Kazowski right? Aren’t you gonna play?”

  Kazowski looked up from his book shook his head. He was obviously into his whatever the story was, looked like a science fiction book, and didn’t want to stop. Though he responded politely. “No, I’m fine for now. Thank you though.”

  Ramirez shuffled the holographic deck on the screen of his wrist communicator. “Kazowski is probably still mad about that last poker game in boot camp. Haha, our Squad Leaders were brutal! They were two rich kids who didn’t care how much money they put in as long as they won. Kind of unfair thinking about it now…they were just bullies with money.”

  Shake snorted a laugh. “Yeah that seems about right. Did all of you go to boot camp together?”

  The group nodded yes as Ramirez dealt the holographic cards. “Yeah, except Navy girl over here… We were class 83-1192. Some of the guys in the other Squad were there too. I’m glad I got to be stationed with people I actually know…”

  Shake glanced down at his cards, and then decided to trade his whole hand. “Who were your Drill Sergeants?”

  Lee cut in right before tossing in two of his own cards. “Sergeant Douglas, Sergeant Ruck, and Staff Sergeant Grant. Do you know any of them?”

  Shake shrugged his shoulders. “No, can’t say that I do. I was trained at Fort Benning. All old world...you guys have it easy now in comparison.”

  Cholius entered the conversation from the side lines. “Yes, all of us were trained on Earth. All of the old crew. The Army demanded a lot from you back then… Desperate times now though.”

  Cholius couldn’t tell if they took what he said as an insult, because it wasn’t. He was just making an observation that the training of the past was much better than the training currently offered. It was now placed on the shoulders of senior non-commissioned officers, like himself, to train new soldiers in all the things boot camp didn’t… It wasn’t easy for anyone.

  The group didn’t seem to care either way though, and all of them gave their cards a quick look over and tossed in their bids. Ramirez burned a card, then flipped over the next, passing the move to Hawkins, who stared at his cards silently in thought.

  Ramirez leaned back, made an exaggerated stretch and yawn, and spoke in an almost too casual tone of voice. Cholius might have to correct him if the behavior worsened. “Sergeant Major, if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

  Cholius grinned, knowing exactly where he was going with the question. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well, all the Sergeant Majors I’ve seen were always old and fat. You aren’t really either. You just seem way too young to be that high up. No offense intended.”

  Cholius grinned and agreed with a nod. “That’s because Krieger ranks are their own entity separate from the Army. We don’t have Warrant Officers, and all of our promotions are internal. It’s one of the perks of running with a small specialized group like this. Your work pays off.”

  Willits chimed in, suddenly curious. “How long have you been in then?”

  “Well, the program officially started November 20th, 2109. I’ve been in just about as long as that, I can’t tell you the exact date I joined though. Bag and I are the most senior of the crew in regards to time in unit.” Cholius could remember almost all of the people to ever join the unit, from as early on as his first few weeks. Most of them good, some of them not very much… The platoon had certainly improved since then, and he was hopeful that trend would continue with these new soldiers.

  Hawkins glanced down at his cards and checked to Shake. “So…you guys were in the immigration blitz. You must have some crazy stories then.”

  Cholius thought for a moment as to whether or not he wanted to answer that, then nodded finally. “A few, depending on your definition of crazy.”

  “Pft, you’re just being modest! Come on, tell us about some battles or something.” Ramirez waved his hand dismissively.

  Ramirez’ personality was starting to come out quite a bit. Cholius thought to himself. The friendly joker. That could either be a morale booster for the soldiers, or be completely annoying. Time would tell. Cholius glanced over to Matt to see if he wanted to answer, but he was still just staring out the window. “Maybe another time. We’re approaching the drop zone.”

  Some of the group sighed at that, and just went back to playing poker. Ramirez shrugged, and replied with disappointment. “Ok fine… I mean roger that Sergeant Major.”

  Matt motioned over to Cholius with a subtle nod. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Cholius carefully made his way over to Matt past the gear cluttered deck, and grabbed hold of a stingingly cold alloy hand-grip on the ceiling. “What’s up, Matt?”

  “Just wondering, where the hell are we going? The training range is like thirty minutes back the other way.” Matt asked with genuine curiosity, as it became obvious they weren’t headed to the original drop zone anymore.

  Cholius glanced out the window toward the shadow silhouettes of distant jagged mountains, as bright clusters of stars passed behind in a view that was sure to be a beautiful painting. Not that Cholius would have time to break out his paints at any point. “Bag wants to do an airdrop over the badlands to the south west of Fort Greg.”

  “I’ve noticed we’re going that direction by the lack of anything but dirt out here... Did he mention anything about the plan?”

  Cholius responded in a way that clearly said he was in on whatever was going on. “Can’t say. Valor is supposed to meet us out here in the next few hours, along with First Squad.”

  The pilot called over the intercom right at that moment. “We’ll be over the drop zone in five minutes! All passengers are reminded to secure all electronic devices and make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their upright and locked position. Thanks for flying Air Army, we know you don’t have any choice in who you fly with, and we really don’t care either way.”

  Some of team gave a few quiet laughs at the comment and began to check and equip all their combat gear. Cholius moved up to the Crew Chiefs near the cockpit and began talking about something Matt couldn’t make out. This was a typical Bag and Jon training situation… keeping people in the dark until the last moment. Matt sighed with a lighter hearted overtone, knowing that something ridiculous was sure to happen because of it. He’d find out soon enough.

  Cholius moved back over to the cabin door and banged his hang against the bulkhead loudly. “Listen up everyone! There are parachutes inside your gear bags. I want you to take them out and put them on, and make sure you connect every strap. Once you’re done, I want you to check the person next to you!”

  The trainees swapped uneasy expressions, to which Ramirez grabbed his parachute and dropped it on the deck in front of him. His tone now more concerned than anything. “Uh yeah… Sergeant Major, aren’t we suppose
d to do like training on how to do this or something? None of have jumped before.”

  “Normally yes. Any more questions?” Cholius responded bluntly, then turned to the veteran Shake. “Shake, help them get situated.”

  Shake nodded in response and immediately began correcting Kazowski, who was trying to connect the leg straps to the shoulder ones.

  Matt inspected his rifle for any wear and tear. He’d already did it several times, but like anything else, it never hurt to be careful. Satisfied, he slung it on his shoulder, and then carefully strapped on his parachute. His tone now sounding like a direct challenge to the trainees. “You want to be in Krieger, right? If you decide you don’t want to jump, the helo will take you back to base, where you can pack up your bags and go back to your original unit.”

  The trainees continued to strap down their chutes without a word, though they were visibly nervous. Particularly Ramirez, who was taking in slow and deep breaths, and seemed to be saying a prayer for himself over and over again.

  Cholius grabbed ahold of the cabin door and slid it open with one swift movement, blasting the interior of the helicopter with the frigid, dry air of the Martian desert. He turned and shouted loudly over the howling wind. “Listen up! This will be a crash course for you…literally if you don’t follow my instructions! Your chute is pre-programmed to open at 500 feet. If it doesn’t and you find yourself free falling past that…” Cholius grabbed ahold of the red pull tab at his left shoulder. “This red tab is the main, pull this down and away from you! If it doesn’t deploy or it’s not working properly, pull the red reserve tab across your chest. If you pull the reserve AND the main AND both catch air...good luck trying to steer.”