by Kara Hale
“He says there isn’t going to be any up and running, Lieutenant.”
My body grew very still. “How close are we to Turin?”
“Not close enough.” I started checking our stats. “Do you think you can use Iomega’s gravity-”
I cut him off. “No sir. We’re too close.” I swallowed dryly. “We’re going to crash, sir.”
He paused a moment more, then gave me his most encouraging nod. “Well, try to set her down gently, Lieutenant.”
“Will do, sir,” I replied, the words coming out in short staccato. I could feel tears scratching at the back of my eyelids.
The Commander went back to his station. All I could hear was the hollow echo of his steps over the shrieks of the alarm and the frightened cries of my fellow soldiers. Each one sounded like a death sentence.
“Command,” he said, his raspy voice cutting through the chaos, everyone shutting up automatically. Dumay’s console gave off a rebellious crackling noise, and then grew silent as well. The Commander cleared his throat uneasily. I listened half-heartedly, most of my attention focused on straightening out the tipping ship.
“Brace for impact.”
Everyone scrambled for a seat with Sappho taking the one right beside me. I hadn’t realized she was even on deck.
“Think you can help me out with this one?” I looked at her with a faulty smile plastered on my face as I tried to keep the panic from overriding my senses.
“I’ll do what I can,” she replied. Before I turned back to the sensors, I caught a glimpse of her face growing intent as she began to concentrate. Information was streaming across my console at a pace I’d only seen in combat simulations. I shifted our descent to a more appropriate angle, which caused a fair amount of bustle as odds and ends began to rattle around, thrown out of place by the canted tilt.
“Everybody, hang on,” I mumbled as I felt and heard the first panel let free from our hull. The ship hadn’t been made for such a lopsided approach and now the effects of one-sided craftsmanship were showing.
I silently cursed military manufacturing as the cloud cover peeled back. I prayed we weren’t anywhere near civilization.
“Auric, can you double-check the Civ sweep to make sure I don’t throw us in to a mess of Riocians?” I would have asked Dumay, but her console was too busy being a useless hunk of dreck.
“Looks like you’re all clear, Cam,” he replied, his voice shaky. I could only imagine how bad his hands were.
“Thank you,” I replied in as calm a voice as I could muster. If they knew I was frightened, it would get to Sappho, and I couldn’t have her worrying about anything beyond keeping us marginally more angled then my controls could cover.
The trees were getting closer. Way too many trees were getting closer. I checked my sensor log, but there was no flat land for miles.
“Everyone, this is going to be a bit bumpier then expected. I suggest grabbing on to the nearest thing you can find.” And praying probably wouldn’t hurt either, I mentally added.
Greenery blossomed all around us, getting closer and closer by the minute.
The sharp bang of Dumay’s console brought my attention rearward, my head effortlessly turning to respond to the sudden noise.
Then, we hit.
Part II
The fine misting rain was more of an encumbrance then an outright nuisance as I straightened my service cap. I shifted restlessly as Colonel Everett traveled down the line, welcoming each and every new pilot to officer status. Out of my original class of twenty-three, only nine had made it through the rigors of training. I was last in line and regretted the stuffiness of my uniform, but I wouldn’t have given up this moment for the world.
Rain continued to bead on my eyelashes as the Colonel gave congratulations to Cosmos beside me. Miraculously, he had turned out to be a fine soldier, always keeping a level head under pressure, which was a useful and rare commodity in the fleet. But, it was his companionable, easy going nature that really enamored him to the other officers and I was loathe to admit that I envied his easy going banter on occasion.
Colonel Everett finally reached me and I snapped to an even greater level of attention. “Sergeant, it gives me great pride to welcome you to the Outrigger Division. I hope you do us proud.” He re-outfitted me with the bars befitting my rank. “It’s great to have you with us, Lieutenant Cameron Peterson.” He saluted me with a gleaming twinkle in his eye while a quirk of a smile tilted the edges of his peppered mustache.
“It’s truly an honor, sir,” I said, returning the salute and barely able to keep from being hit by the shakes.
He took a step back and nodded to us all. “Everyone, may you serve your nation well and bring distinction to yourselves and the Division.”
***
My vision was dappled with black spots as I opened my eyes to darkness. A heavy weight was pressing down on my chest and, from the number of rivets grinding into me; my guess was that it was piece of the bulkhead. My leg throbbed in pain and a touch to my aching forehead confirmed that the sticky wetness sliding down my temple was, in fact, blood. I pushed myself up as best I could, while the heat of a fire warmed my bare feet. Apparently I had lost my boots in the crash. Those had been good boots too.
“Sappho?” I croaked out, the sound not even nearing the actual name. I coughed and hoped I hadn’t breathed in too much of the black smoke now curling its way around me. “Anyone?” This time it came out a little more coherent.
“Hey, guys, I think I’ve found Peterson,” said a voice emanating from somewhere above my right arm. “We’re going to get you out of there, just hold on.”
The metal above me gave a squeak of protest as it was shifted against another panel, the noise reverberating along in a rumble of movement that did nothing for my injuries or my hearing. After a final grunt of determined effort from my rescuers, the metal was pushed off of me. The person who’d assured me of my survival grasped my hand and pulled me up.
I blinked at the intense light; my savior’s features were a single entity of blackness at first. He patted me down, checking for any severe injuries.
“You okay?” He asked with concern. I rubbed my eyes and the shape finally began to resolve itself into the worried face of Lieutenant Rommal.
“I think so,” I replied uncertainly. “It doesn’t feel like anything’s broken. A bit battered and bruised, but nothing serious.”
He broke into a wary grin. “Good, you can help us get anyone else out of this gods-awful mess then.”
I began surveying the area, my mind only half as sharp as usual as what I suspected to be a mild concussion set in. I looked around as best I could, only to be greeted by complete destruction. I shouldn’t have been so surprised, the Eagle hadn’t been built to withstand such a rough landing. Her shattered hull was scattered in pieces all around me, my controls were a good five meters from where I’d been rescued.
“Status report?” Even if I were concussed, I couldn’t let protocols be forgotten.
“Fifteen dead, sir. Twelve unaccounted for. At least everyone’s injured in someway or another,” Rommal replied, kicking a copper cuplink out of his way. I let out an involuntary gasp. We were already down by half, and that was if we were lucky.
“Things have really gone to hell, lieutenant,” he continued, looking down as he kicked the cuplink again. Old Sparky hadn’t changed and his stoicism was welcome in all this confusion.
“Sappho?” I asked, unable to keep the waver out of my voice.
“She’s accounted for sir,” he replied. I sighed in relief. “So’s the Commander. Auric’s nursing a pretty broken up arm, but he’s okay. Dumay’s leg is shot through at the ankle and the Doc says she may not be able to walk again. Horace is peachy as a newborn babe and Patski’s got a nice shiner. Moony’s unaccounted for-“ The list continued on and on, with some of our best officers either missing or dead. I let the words wash over me, not really able to grasp the enormity of our losses. Since we’d been deployed, w
e’d only lost twelve men and four officers, and that hadn’t been all at once either. This sudden blow was pretty hard to handle.
It was Rommal’s painful intake of breath that brought me out of my daze. He had hit his left foot on a steel pipe, freshly wounding himself when he was already battered and bruised enough.
“You’ve got yourself a fine limp there, Sparky,” I said, giving him an appraising look as he tried to walk on as if nothing had happened.
“Nothing a little bandage won’t cure,” he replied, putting on a brave face while practically hopping to avoid more damage.
“Nonsense. Let me give you a shoulder.”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t want to pain your injury.” I looked at him in incomprehension. Then it dawned on me.
“Sparky, my shoulder’s fine. It’s the head wound that’s bleeding,” I said, smiling as I got his arm around my back and put an arm around his waist.
“Oh,” he replied with a sheepish look on his face.
“Which way’s CP?”
“Left, about twenty meters.”
“Alright, off we are then. Step lively, now, wouldn’t want to disappoint the Commander, would we?”
His only response was a laugh.
***
“It’s good to see you Peterson,” The Commander greeted Rommal and me as we finally reached CP.
“Same here, sir.” It really was good to see him, knowing that without the excellent guidance of such a commanding officer, the already fractured Brigadier crew would have been lost entirely. It didn’t hurt that he was the closest thing to a father I’d ever had.
“Head on over to the Doc and get patched up. We’re going to be heading out of here by nightfall, wouldn’t want the natives to get restless,” he said, gesturing to the rear where a line of wounded were gathered.
“Aye, aye sir.” I saluted as best I could and shuffled towards the medical personal as Sparky gave the Commander a brief status report.
“Thank the gods you’re alright!” I suddenly heard, barely having time to register Sappho’s voice before I was enveloped in a bone-crushing hug.
“If you keep hugging my like that, I may not be,” I said, gently prying her off, my injuries preventing me from expressing my full elation at her survival.
“Right, wouldn’t want to give you any more bruises. Nothing’s broken though, at least there’s that.”
“It’s still creepy when you do that,” I said, poking her in the shoulder good-naturedly. I was just thankful she could only pick up surface thoughts from me, otherwise it would have complicated matters to an inexplicable degree.
“It keeps you on your toes. Plus, you actually think it’s kind of neat.”
I leaned against her shoulder in response. “Would you be offended if I pushed you off?” She asked teasingly as we progressed another step.
I shrugged, too tired to do much else. “So long as I don’t fall over,” I said, my slow reply muffled in her clothing. She just smiled and gave my hair a tousle.
We both took comfort in each other’s presence as the line inched forward and the sun began its slow crawl down to the horizon.
***
By the time the Doc and what few medical personal had survived had patched me up, we were nearing nightfall and I still hadn’t gotten the chance to scrounge for weapons. Cosmos had put the Techies on reconnaissance, whose shifting through the metal scrap had produced a hearty supply of rations as well as sufficient guns and ammo. They hadn’t found my custom pistol though and there was no way I was going to leave that beauty behind.
I attempted to commission Sappho’s help, but the Commander called her away for a scanning patrol. So, I was stuck going through the wreckage of my bunk, or the general vicinity of where my bunk used to be, by myself. The ship was in poor condition and I would be lucky if I even found another shoe let alone a gun that would have most likely caught fire and exploded. Division hadn’t seen fit to equip us with the new R-12s that didn’t rely on live ammo, so the side arm was probably a metallic puddle of silver-gray among the wreckage.
The reddish orange sun continued its dip towards the jagged mountains in the west and the minutes ticked by as sweat pooled on my neck. My hands kept getting minuet pricks and scratches from the twisted metal, more of an annoyance than anything else. I had been looking for a solid two hours but had only came up with a couple standard issue R-1s, a few lobster tossers that Powers was sure to appreciate, and some mystery meat Q-Rations.
It seemed that my luck was finally out. I cursed the day I walked into that Brigadier office as the Commander called all personal up front to pick up rations and properly arm themselves. We were shipping out.
***
“I can’t believe you dropped a grenade on them! Are you out of your fucking mind?” Darien just smirked.
“It wasn’t armed.” He was at attention, but his face was marked with defiance.
“I don’t give a damn if it was made of paper-mâché, you do not play around with ammunition or anything that could be considered ammunition! You do not sully our good name with pranks that could get someone killed and you most certainly do not ever try to pull one off on a commanding officer! Are we clear soldier?” Darien just kept looking straight ahead. I was a good few meters away, but I could still hear the XO’s voice loud and clear. I grimaced for Major Jenson, after this Darien was sure to put him on his list of retribution.
“Yes sir,” Darien replied, his words terse and non-compliant in tone if not in meaning.
“I’m busting you back to private and putting you in charge of mess duty for four months. No passes and this is going on your record. Now, out of my sight.” The XO was furious. In sharp contrast, Darien seemed as cool as I’d ever seen him as he did an about face and headed in my direction.
When he came within hearing range, he simply looked at me with a face that said ‘don’t say it’.
“I told you so,” I said it anyway.
“Dammit Dumay, you can’t keep coddling it, otherwise the infection is guaranteed to take the whole damned leg!”
I slammed awake as Dumay whimpered in pain. Doc Evans was trying to set her leg straight. I winced at the severity of the wound, only too happy to thank the gods for my fortune.
For the past week we had been on the move, shipping out every three hours to relocate somewhere further west. Commander Samson hoped we would reach the mountains within the month, knowing the caves would provide excellent cover. I was more concerned about our lack of winter clothing.
The quick pace was something we all loathed, but, as it turned out, the Riocians disliked us crash landing in their territory a lot more than simply bringing our interstellar war to their doorstep. Our mortar squad and a few men especially skilled with an R-1 had kept them at bay, but the distance was slowly closing between our camps. Thankfully, we hadn’t lost anyone to enemy fire, but that probably wouldn’t last.
The Doc had taken advantage of the current lull in firefights to check up on the severely wounded, Dumay being one of his main concerns. Her ankle was swollen and oozing yellow pus that unnerved even the most stalwart of the men. She couldn’t put any weight on it and had been alternating between hopping and piggybacking it for the past few days. Doc seemed to think there was a good chance the infection would spread if she didn’t have it amputated within the week. I would have almost counted it as a blessing, the mangled appendage hardly resembled its former beauty and prolonging the inevitable would only make the pain worse. I’d told Dumay as much, but she seemed to think it would either slowly heal on its on or we’d find some type of medicinal herb to cure it. After many such conversations, I’d given up any hope of talking sense into the girl and left the fight up to the Doc.
We were currently nestled in a tiny outcrop of rock formed in such a way as to resemble a crescent, providing excellent cover from the Riocians and the nasty wind that was picking up the closer we got to the mountains. My guard duty shift had ended not too long ago and the debate between Dumay
and the Doc was not helping guide me into a dreamless slumber. Hoping to at least be somewhat useful, I slipped as carefully as I could from Sappho’s side and headed towards my previous post. Relieving Patski, I hunkered down with my own R-1 and prepared to wait out the coming dawn.
“Cam?” I startled from my half dose, already chiding myself for dropping off, as I turned to see Auric take a seat beside me.
I nodded my reply as I tried to shake off the last vestiges of sleep.
“Long night, eh?” he asked, warming his hands around a tin coffee mug.
“Wouldn’t have been if the Doc hadn’t been knee bent on messing with Dumay’s affairs.”
“You heard that did you?” He passed me his meager ration of Darjen, just warmed and steaming. I took a sip and was reminded of the reason why pilots favored it, as the remaining sleep-addledness was immediately washed away.
“Yep. I tried talking to her before, but it was like banging my head against a steel hull. I almost think she’s cracked,” I replied, giving him back the mug.
“Maybe she’s just overly hopeful?”
“Hopeful my ass. She’s delusional and there’s not a thing we can do to fix it beyond strapping her down and taking the foot by force.”
“I doubt it’ll come to that. If there’s anyone who can talk sense into that girl, the Doc can.” I gave him my most unbelieving look.
“I think you’re the one who’s being overly hopeful, Shortie.” He shoved me lightly at the remark. I shoved back and it soon dissolved into a wrestling match.
After a brief scuffle, I pinned him down and was the self-proclaimed victor.
“You’ve never been able to hold your own with me, Shortie. What makes you think you can now?” I stood up, a toothy grin plastered on my face.
“One of these days, Cam,” he replied as he took my proffered hand up.
“We weren’t made for guard duty, were-“ I stopped short as a shot rang through the air. We dove for cover, I to the left and he to the right. My heart was pounding as I cocked my R-1 with barely shaking fingers. Sweat dripped down into my eyes as we waited for movement, sound, anything to indicate an intruder.