Sergeant Omar Steiner had managed to be present for the birth of his first child with his wife Vessara Evans. They named the squashed, beautiful little girl Madelyn. Omar planned on calling her Maddy, and she was already daddy’s little girl. He watched those vids over and over, celebrating with his mates.
Chime gave Naero a heads up that her younger cousin, Jonny Fox, was feeling blue. Naero went to cheer her friend up with some Jett and some delicious, marshmallow cookies she had been saving.
She found Jonny against a wall by himself, pretending to read a book so that no one would bother him.
Until Naero noticed that he wasn’t turning any pages.
“Heads up,” she said, and tossed a borbble of Jett his way. He caught it with one hand. They had both managed to restock.
He smiled up at Naero, but it was a forced smile.
They sat and finished their drinks. Naero handed him another.
“So, what’s got Jonny Fox so blue?” Naero asked.
He let out a long breath. “I’ve just realized today that I’m in the wrong line of work, N.”
She stared at him. “How can that be, Jonny? You’re one of the best Marines I know.”
“Yeah, but that’s just the thing, N. I’ve suddenly realized that I don’t like to kill things that much. Seeing all of these little people dead–these Piettos. I don’t know why. It just got to me this time.”
“Jonny, dead civies are always tough. For all of us. But we didn’t do that. The enemy did.”
“I know, I know. But I’m just tired of it, that’s all. Tired of seeing all of this death. Tired of killing things. I’m sick of it. Sick of all of it. Sometimes I just want to stop.” He paused and almost sobbed, “I don’t want to have to kill anything more.”
Naero put a hand on his arm.
Tears started running down Jonny’s face, and Naero wept with him.
He suddenly gasped out loud. “Then I look at all of those dead civies lying around, and something just snaps and I go all cold inside.” He paused and then went on. “I just want to kill Ejjai until there aren’t anymore of them to kill. And sometimes, I’m afraid, N…I’m so afraid of…of…”
“What are you afraid of, Jonny?”
He looked her right in the eyes and swallowed hard. “That I won’t come back. That I’ll just go all cold and hard inside and never be able to get back to being just me again. That’s why I’m sick of killing things. I don’t want to kill anymore. I don’t like it.”
Naero touched his face. “Oh, Jonny.”
He shook his head and threw up his hands. “But I’m a Marine, dammit. And I’m good at killing–a trained expert. None better. And the sooner we stop the Ejjai, the sooner I can stop dreaming about all of those dead civies staring up at me. The ones we couldn’t save. And there’s just more and more of them, on every new world we hit.”
Naero rested both hands on her friend–her brother. “Just stay with me, Jonny. We’ll make it stop. We’re going to put an end to this nightmare.”
He nodded again. “All right. I will. I’ll do it. But after this, I’m done, I tell you. I’m done killing. I don’t want to kill anything, ever again.”
“Sure, Jonny. All of us will be free again. You can go some place where you won’t have to do anything you don’t want to, with your greatgran and Chime. You’ll have your little merchant ship you always talk about and you can all be happy.”
Naero and Jonny Fox chatted together all the rest of that night.
10
Palmyra-3 was different.
First off, it wasn’t an earthlike world. Next, it was the system that contained an advanced Joshua Tech research facility with only about forty-four thousand sentients working there.
And finally, Shetanna and Bravo got there first–before the invaders could strike.
This was indeed something new and strange.
They raced in with only two fleets deployed, uncertain as to when the invaders would drop in to pay them a visit. They couldn’t just extract the staff. That would leave behind far too much sensitive data and equipment, some of which had to be removed as well.
The defenders were in the process of accomplishing those vital tasks when six invader fleets hit Palymyra-7 only hours later. While the naval forces duked it out up in the black, Bravo held their positions against everything the invader battle groups could hurl at them them on the ground, pummeling the defenders without let-up.
Naero observed the unfolding war on the combat grid display screens at HQ, with XO Viho Cheyenne. So far, there wasn’t much in general for an MCL to do, held in reserve to defend the evac if need be.
“Static defenses are nothing but delaying tactics; standard Spacer Marine strategic and tactical doctrine, Viho.”
The XO smiled. “This one only has to hold for another hour or two, N.”
Naero sighed. “And by then, our other fleets will pull up and wipe the black with these guys.”
“Exactly. By the book. Watch it all unfold on the grid screens.”
Something still bothered Naero.
Then her sense of warning went nuts.
Om broke in. N, Chaos sword attack. Phaze, cut, and thrust right behind the XO. Do it now!
She did so without hesitation or question. Instinctively, she phazed and activated her Chaos katanas. She slipped around Viho to protect his back, executing a Spacer sword strike combination.
Something she sliced through disrupted and exploded.
“Intruders!” Naero shouted as the alarm went out.
Bloody pieces of an Ejjai assassin in ruined phaze armor sparked and clattered onto the floor behind Cheyenne.
Naero hit her presets and morphed into full Shetanna-mode, shielding herself and the XO.
Viho busied himself checking HQ and the facility, taking security steps.
Shetanna cloaked as Marines spread out in security patterns and called up reinforcements. She phazed herself and opened her third eye.
Let’s go hunting, Om. How many infiltrators do we sense? I’m locking onto their minds. Help me track and expose them. Have our fixers mark them, even if they are still phazed.
Naero gasped slightly.
One hundred and twenty Ejjai, N.
That many? Haisha! What are the hell are they doing, Om?
Most are busy setting multiple fusion and neutron charges throughout this complex–including the escape ships currently docked in the starport. They aren’t bent on attacking yet. It appears that their primary mission is sabotage. They’ll continue setting charges.
Have our fixers neutralize–
Trying. Already ahead of you, N. Fixers in progress as we speak. There are a few enemy techs attempting to hack our systems, seize equipment. Some few are wandering about, like this one was that you took out. They are snooping to see who and what they can come across. Even with the alarm, with their phaze suits, they still think they’re safe.
Silent orders went out. Intel brought out anti-phaze guns and started popping isolated Ejjai in order to test them.
The new vesper guns function, but take time to recharge. And the anti-phaze shimmer particles dispersed in the air will work, but they will also take time. They show where the phazed troops aren’t by outlining their negative astral frequency echoes with an aura. Five more intruders down, thus far.
It’s a start, Om. Let’s go take down a few ourselves. I can spot them by their minds when I’m phazed as well. She closed in on the infiltrators closest to her.
Shetanna didn’t fool around. She pierced an assassin’s head with spikes of Chaos energy and then exploded them.
After she cleared her section, she double-checked with Viho again. “XO, XO, launch all ships from this starport, ready or not. Fixers are neutralizing demo charges and mines all over the complex, but the intruders have been busy for a while; they have this entire complex rigged to blow. Get those transports out of here. The rest of us can fly out under our own power if need be. This place could still go up any second.”
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“Affirmative, sir. Clearing starport. Emergency evac.”
They had stripped about eighty percent of what Intel wanted. That would need to be good enough. They could blow the rest.
Naero checked the combat grid again.
Just as she thought. Not good. The invaders stepped up their game, throwing in another enemy heavy battle group for good measure.
The Ejjai were all in. All of their efforts and main attacks focused on taking the defensive shields of the complex down and overrunning it.
“Shield control. Maximize your security and prepare for an all-out attack. Take all Intel precautions again phazed infiltrators. Maintain all defensive screens at maximum deflection, no matter what.”
Then Naero noticed it as soon as Om did.
N, shield control is the only sector that the enemy phaze troops haven’t penetrated. They didn’t even try to go there.
That’s crazy, Om. Why wouldn’t they go there first? That’s what we would do. We’d better check it out.
That worries me, N. Perhaps they know something that we do not.
Shetanna phazed again and scanned the area around shield command with telepathy, her third eye wide open.
It doesn’t seem logical, N. We are greatly distracted and fully engaged on all fronts. This would be the best moment to hit shield control.
Copy that. You’re right, Om. Okay–got them. A full platoon of phaze troops, heavily armed and rigged for suicide bombs, approaching our positions on these vectors. I’m going straight at them. Send our fixers in to neutralize those bombs. Alert the XO!
Sending reinforcements.
Transporting now. No time, Om.
Shetanna attacked the sortie directly while starships continued to panic-launch from the starport.
One of the ships suffered an explosion and barely limped into orbit.
Shetanna used swords and Cosmic attacks to take the infiltrators down quickly. But even with her powers, she could only engage several targets each second, and the sortie scattered in a dispersal attack pattern.
She had taken out more that half of them when several large fusion and neutron blasts rocked the shielding generators.
Defensive shields around the complex collapsed, and heavy enemy indirect and direct fire immediately slammed into it.
Shetanna hunted down the remaining phaze troops, while she still could.
Marine dropships came down under fire, attacking the enemy battle groups swarming forward from the rear areas. They attempted to take some of the heat off of the beleaguered facility, but the bulk of the enemy forces stayed on task.
Naero knew they were in a bad way, despite all of her efforts to prevent exactly what was happening.
Marine armor and meks stood their ground, fighting back against the onslaught and pouring fire into the advancing enemy lines. The two sides duked it out up close.
With the starships up and out, at least the Marine transports could come down in near-crash drops and try to extract Bravo.
These dropship pilots were the best in the business. The best combat insertion and extraction pilots in the galaxy. Only they were brave enough or crazy enough to endure that level of fire to come in, gather up who and what they could that remained, and then launch back out the way they came to escape.
The last transport came racing down into the fire to do the same thing.
This was it. The last ride out. Anyone left behind after that would be force to fight their way past the enemy in order to escape.
Two other dropships had taken heavy fire and peeled off.
The last shielded dropship literally crashed through the advancing hordes. Above, Navy and Marine starfighter pilots slipped down to lend their support, trying to hold the enemy off.
Finally, in a boldass maneuver, the battleships The Okinawa, The Guam, and The Midway dropped straight in on near-crash dive vectors. The three gargantuan warships interposed themselves and their heavy shields in a triangle around the facility, and crushed many of the attackers flat.
Then they aimed their massive batteries at the enemy lines and pounded them to dust at point blank range, kicking up huge craters in the surrounding area. But they endured heavy concentrated enemy fire.
That gutsy move gave the last bunch of Marines and civies a chance to regroup, and take out their remaining attackers or get on the last dropship.
Naero kept stalking the last of the enemy phaze troops to make sure they didn’t do any further harm or slip onto the dropship. All the while, the main battle still raged.
The final orders to all personnel came down. Withdraw or be left behind with the dead and the dying.
The three battleships had done all that they could, and were taking too much damage even now. They had to launch back up into orbit and effect repairs in the fixer clouds.
Time to go.
Naero rejoined 36 and dragged a final group of teks onboard The Okinawa, the closest ride at hand.
The rear defense Marines fell back in good order, and also loaded up, still under fire.
Squad 4 from 36 was one of the last units to come in, racing toward the lift ramps, flying on gravwings, bounding and firing as they retreated, still covering each other.
From out of nowhere, several modified enemy gravtanks phazed into the complex and began firing on the battleships.
One of the tanks cut off Fireteam 3 of Squad 4 and rammed into them, as the battleships pulled away.
They have tanks that can phaze as well?
Naero shot out of the relative safety of the loading bay and back out into the mix. She couldn’t leave her Marines behind. She deflected fire off her shields, raced at one of the gravtanks, swords blazing.
In a feat of sheer Cosmic might and fury, Shetanna hewed the gravtank in half, flung the exploding pieces to either side, came to the side of her dazed and stricken mates.
Kowalski, Cherokee, Fox, and Kothari were down, wounded or stunned.
Naero picked them up and tossed them bodily into the open cargo hatch, battered armor and all. Jonny Fox was the last. She slung him over her shoulder and shot toward the closing hatch.
Hands stretched out to her. Marines from other hatches returned withering fire at the foes on the ground and dropped explosives.
When the hatch closed before she reached it, Naero transported herself and Fox inside, spilling onto the floor, exhausted.
Bravo and the Alliance had held on to the facility, and gotten most of the people, and much of the base’s secrets out safely, under great duress.
Naero learned later, after she recovered, that the Spacer fleets had quickly arrived after the evacuation, and blasted the remaining enemy forces on the ground directly to hell.
Chime came to Naero and thanked her personally for saving her cousin Jonny.
That night happened to be Seventhday, and that meant Sparring Night. Marines squared off in matches, both with practice blades and hand-to-hand.
Naero begged off the latter. With her Mystic training, most of the several Marines she trained with were clearly not a match for her one-on-one, and by now her mates understood that. She still enjoyed blade contests–if she held back. There were always a few exceptions. She had had several very interesting matches with Trevor Lakota and a few others.
Then something really freaked her out. After the sparring matches all ended, the Marines began clearing the floor and turned off the gravity.
Strobes, lasers, and holographic light shows started up.
What the hell was all of this?
“What’s going on?” Naero nervously asked Trisha Marshall, who by that time was drunk and hanging all over Acer. He never seemed to mind stuff like that.
“Seventhday just isn’t for sparring, N. Oh, no. It’s also Dance Night!”
Naero’s jaw almost shot through the floor to the next level. She was deathly afraid of something exactly like this, and had avoided it all thus far. “Dance Night?”
She had to get away.
Several of her mates
suddenly blocked her every path of escape.
“Yeah, come on, N. Wait until you see these skills at work,” Bessa boasted.
Chime slapped her hands to the beat and began swinging her narrow hips. “Haven’t you heard? 36 Marines are some of the best dancers out there!”
“But all you people know are Marines, you nutjobs,” Naero protested. “And besides–I don’t dance!”
Marshall laughed. “Then how can we be wrong, Brighteyes? Come on, Acer. Let’s stomp on the ceiling! Cut loose, N. Dance with us. Let’s throck out and have a gigablast!”
“Oh, fuck!” Naero groaned, pulled and pushed into the mix by her laughing friends, entirely against her will.
Naero Amashin Maeris was a lot of things…but a dancer just wasn’t one of them.
Haisha! But after a while, damn it if Trish and the other gungirls weren’t dead on. It was kind of exciting and fun just to let go and be wild.
As the music and the lights continued to spike and flare, 36 continued to erupt into complex dance moves. The Marines were shaking it down everywhere, in groups, in couples, showing off on their own. These amazing athletes wowed her with their moves, and they were everywhere, on the ceiling, the walls. Some of them were spinning and floating up in midair.
Naero had seen discos, jackpits, and spinspheres on gigacity playworlds that weren’t this hot with action.
She tried to jump in and have fun as best she could, but she clearly wasn’t anywhere good enough or drunk enough to try to compete.
That in itself was humbling.
When the Marines put the moves down, they nearly tore the goddam place apart. Major Luna herself finally had to intervene, and threatened them all with stungas, just to restore order.
11
Kariinga-12 wasn’t a planet, but a water moon world with ninety-eight percent hydrographics. Almost no land to speak of.
Yet leave it to the industrious little Piettos to construct a network of underwater cities and rich mining facilities for its population of 1.7 billion. Underwater mining and robotic fishing ventures were well established and booming there–until the invaders showed up.
Naero's War: The Citation Series 2: The High Crusade Page 13