"Recon Division exists for exactly this type of mission," the commander said. "I will not argue over my orders. We have a job to do, people. Whining about it will not help. Now, we reach the Newtonian System in how long, Captain Irving?"
"Twenty-eight hours, Commander."
"Excellent. It should only be a few days until we reach orbit after that. Let's make sure that everything is ready, shall we?"
The meeting was over and Dean wanted to argue, but he knew there was no point. The commander had made up her mind long before sharing mission-specific details with them. Dean couldn't change her mind. He had to find a way to carry out her orders and keep his troops safe at the same time.
"I'm sorry," Captain Dante said as they left the Operations room. "I've never heard of such a mission."
"I can't tell if the VA is just doing her job, or trying to get rid of us."
"It's unthinkable not to have air support against a known, hostile life form."
"We'll just have to make sure we don't need any," Dean said, his mind already trying to think of strategies that would allow him to hold off a horde of blood-sucking animals the size of cows for who knew how long while the xenobiologists searched for a way to humanely drive the creatures away from humans.
"Captain Dante," Major White said in a voice that sounded peeved. "We have work to do."
"Of course, Major," the Spanish captain said, this time not even trying to veil the icy tone in her voice. "Good luck, Dean."
"Thank you, Captain."
Dean lingered at the hatch watching Esma hurry past the mousy major, who struggled to keep up. Dean realized things could always be worse. The vice admiral might be trying to get him killed, but at least she wasn't using her rank to force him into her bed.
Chapter 35
The Maintenance crew threw their party that night, and Dean was happy to send his platoon down the corridor to join in the festivities. He had shared the details of their mission with Staff Sergeant Ashley Mercer, but no one else. And while she kept an eye on the party, Dean spent the evening researching Newton Six.
The Sifters were magnificent creatures. Very little was known about the huge beasts, such as how long they lived, or even what their flesh looked like below the tons of dirt and rock that had built up on their backs for thousands of years. There were streams flowing down from the mountainous backbones that grew so high they were covered with snow and ice. The colonists had mapped out passes through the living mountains, and could travel overland between the two sister colonies, while air transports were required to reach the colonies on the other creatures.
Dean could understand and even empathize with the colonists who had found a utopia of sorts on an otherwise uninhabitable world. Their devotion to the environment and indigenous creatures of Newton Six was laudable, but not always practical. Some animals died supporting others. The fleas, if that's truly what they were, had no qualms about killing. The reports about the creatures said they killed indiscriminately and could jump nearly a hundred feet in the air. If the fleas wanted to, they could bound over the entire colony in a few jumps. Nothing the colonists had could keep up with the speed of the strange beasts.
The good news was that it appeared the creatures had no armor of any kind. Their multi-segmented bodies were rotund and harry. Dean had no doubt their munitions would make quick work of the creatures, but hitting something that could jump that far would not be easy, even with computer-aided targeting systems. It would be a difficult first test for his platoon. They had worked through swarming simulations, but the parameters of the mission on Newton Six would make their work extremely difficult.
Dean had detailed maps of the Epsilon colony, and even the surrounding countryside, if the land on the back of a giant animal could be called countryside. Normally he would look for elevated fighting positions to mark on his TCU's navigation system, but the fleas could jump so high they could crash down right on top of the platoon. What Dean needed was enclosed fighting areas, places where his platoon could take cover and fight the creatures in small numbers as they tried to get to his troops.
The colony had several buildings that would suit his purposes, if those buildings were intact. It took Dean almost an hour of researching to discover that all colony structures on Newton Six were made from prefab corrugated fiber board, with a tensile strength that was only half that of real wood. The fiber board was essentially cardboard, made to break down and be reabsorbed into the environment with no waste or contaminating effects. The problem in Dean's mind was that the structures wouldn't hold up to heavy animals landing on them. The last thing Dean wanted was for his platoon to get stuck inside a building only to have it collapse on top of them.
There were caves near the mountains, but the colony was nearly forty clicks from them on the wide plain that was ideal for growing crops and utilizing solar and wind energy. Dean needed an advantage, something that could move his troops into a safe position once they had achieved their objective. He switched programs and typed out a message to Captain Esmerelda Dante, asking her to meet him. He hoped she might have an idea of how they could get the platoon from wherever they found the flea-like creatures back to the shelter of the caves, but in the back of his mind he couldn't help but wonder if in reality he just wanted to see the beautiful Operator again.
It seemed impossible that she might actually be attracted to Dean. She was older than he was, in a different branch of service, of higher rank, and so beautiful it took Dean's breath away. But he couldn't help but hope that there was more than just professional courtesy between them. It made sense that she was using him as an excuse for rebuffing Major White's advances, but there was also the possibility that she really did like him, and that tiny glimmer of hope made him almost ridiculously happy.
Unfortunately, he couldn't help but wonder if being attracted to Esma was a huge mistake. Breaking things off with Miranda had been painful enough, and he hadn't been stuck inside a space ship with her for the next two years. What if things ended badly between them and it made his position on the ship even more unbearable. Or what if Vice Admiral Hamilton decided that the relationship was unprofessional and insisted that one of them transfer to another ship? Or even worse, what if she took her anger on Dean's contradiction to her no fraternization order out on Esma? He didn't think he could live with himself if his desires hurt her career.
He sent the message anyway, swearing to himself that he could remain professional even though he knew he was on shaky ground. He had to be careful, very, very careful, if he wanted his tenure on the Valkyrie to be successful. It only took Captain Dante ten minutes to respond, saying she could meet Dean, but it would be almost 24 hours before she could make time in her schedule.
She said she could meet him the next day at 1430 hours when the officers’ mess would most likely be deserted. Dean would have preferred to meet Esma on his side of the ship, where his own troops could run interference if someone came snooping, such as the nosy Major White. But that would require Esma to cross to Dean's side of the ship, something no one from the primary arm of the Valkyrie had done since coming aboard as far as Dean knew. Perhaps the imaginary divide between sections of the ship would be too great an obstacle to overcome for the Recon Lieutenant and the Operations Captain.
Dean shook his head and scolded himself for even allowing such a thought to enter his mind. He needed to meet with Esma to ensure the safety of his platoon, not for a romantic escapade. He couldn't let anything interfere with the two imperatives that would frame his career with EsDef: completing his mission and keeping his troops safe. He dictated a quick response and then went to find Staff Sergeant Mercer.
The next day, he began a simulation after their mid-day meal that included his death, so that the rest of the platoon was forced to complete the mission objectives without him. While they ran the simulation, Dean crossed over to the primary arm of the ship. He went quickly to the officers’ mess to prepare himself a cup of coffee.
Normally he stuck w
ith the amino energy drink and refrained from the other beverages available. The Valkyrie's food was better than Dean had expected. Protein was still manufactured from powder, but they had real vegetables and a variety of dry goods such as pasta, rice, instant potatoes, and desert foods such as wafer cookies, dehydrated fruit, and vacuum-sealed snack cakes. Coffee and tea were also readily available, which Dean began to make for himself. He added sweetener and powdered creamer, stirring slowly as he walked with his beverage to a table where he could sit with a view of the door.
His wrist link read 1433 as he took his first sip, and Dean worried that Esma had changed her mind about meeting him. The hot coffee wasn't his favorite drink, the rich flavor of the beverage tasted almost bitter to Dean. He was just contemplating going back for more sweetener when Esma hurried in.
"Sorry I'm late," she said. "I was running a simulation that went long."
"No problem," Dean said, trying his best to sound casual, but he couldn't help but feel like smiling at the sight of the beautiful Spanish captain.
"What did you want to talk about?"
Dean's mouth was suddenly dry, but he swallowed as best he could and spoke up.
"My issue with this mission is how to keep my platoon alive. If there really are herds of these creatures, I need to get to a defendable position until Hamilton decides you can pick us up."
"And how can I help you do that?" Esma said. "I'll be busy flying the transport."
"I know, but I've found good ground to fight from. Only it's in the foothills, about forty clicks from the colony."
"And if these creatures move as fast as the rumors say they can, you won't be able to out run them."
"Not without help."
Esma sat back, thinking for a moment. "I may have a solution. It isn't perfect, but it could work, but only if we can get the weight calculations exactly right. I need to know the weight of every one of your specialists in armor. And if you're planning on taking gear I need to know how much it weighs, down to the gram."
"Alright I can do that," Dean said.
"Send it to me," she said, leaning forward. "And the next time you want to see me, don't wait so long to ask."
The next thing Dean knew she was kissing him, her lips warm and soft, the scent of her hair filling his nose, clouding his senses. In that moment something clicked into place inside of Dean. He knew for certain that he would never be the same.
Esma was on her feet and hurrying away before Dean knew what was happening. He wanted to call after her, to beg her to stay, but he knew he couldn't. He had a job to do, and his feelings for Esma couldn't get in the way of that. He had to do whatever it took to accomplish his mission and get back to the Valkyrie, back to Esma. He needed to know what that kiss meant, but he would have to wait to find out. His mission came first. His mission and the men and women that were trusting him to get them home. That was all he could think about now.
Chapter 36
Coming out of warp speed was exactly the same as transitioning into FTL. The journey into the Newtonian System was much quicker than leaving Sol, since the only traffic was the Valkyrie. There were a few satellites around Newton Six, just weather and communication birds in stable orbit. There were no space stations, no other colonies, not even any other ships in the system.
Dean and the Recon platoon were strapped into the insertion craft, a ship that was designed specifically for carrying troops to the surface of the planet with as small a radar presence as possible. The ship was shot from the Valkyrie and into the planet's atmosphere, where it streaked like a burning meteor. Dean was tapped into the ship's systems, including the radio link that the Operators on board the Valkyrie used to fly the ship. Troop insertion craft were treated as high priority missions and given a team of operators instead of a single person.
Dean could hear the chatter between them. Captain Dante was piloting the craft from her station on board the Valkyrie while the other members of her team monitored everything from the weather to the hull temperature.
"Twenty-five thousand feet," said one person.
"Wind holding at fifteen knots, north by northwest," said another.
"No comms traffic," said a third. "The colony isn't broadcasting."
Dean could feel the ship dropping. He knew it would be tumbling if not for Captain Dante's deft handling of the ship. Gravity was pulling them down. The G-force on Newton Six was similar to Earth’s, but it still made Dean's limbs feel heavy and sluggish.
"I can park this bird anywhere, Dean," Esma's voice was so clear through his TCU's audio feed it felt like she was standing right behind him. "Any requests?"
"Drop us at the edge of town," Dean said, designating a spot on the constantly updating plot in his TCU.
"You got it. Two minutes."
"Alright Staff Sergeant," Dean said on the platoon frequency. "ETA two minutes."
"We're two minutes people. Double check your gear and make sure your weapons are hot! I want this gear off the transport and on the deck in less than a minute."
"I can feel the gravity," Adkins said.
"You'll shake it off when you start moving," Mercer said. "And don't bother sightseeing. You hit the dirt and take a perimeter position. I want full visual scans, thermal imaging, and ultraviolet. You see something, you say something. Designate bogies and await instructions. Let's show these colonists what we are."
"Recon!" shouted the platoon.
Dean couldn't help but smile. All the training was over, he was on a live fire combat mission, and the feeling of pride was overwhelming. There was fear too, his nerves were like downed electric lines, sparking and popping with the possibility that he could die on Newton Six. And yet he was fighting with an elite team of highly trained warriors, the last real guardians of humanity. It was a very good feeling and Dean savored it as he watched the insertion craft fly to the landing zone he had designated.
"Good luck, Recon," Captain Dante said. "Transport craft standing by for xynomorph pick up."
"Thank you, control. We'll see you shortly."
Dean waved to Mercer as the struts settled on Newton Six and the rear hatch popped open.
"Move! Move! Move!" the staff sergeant shouted.
The platoon's gear for this op wasn’t all that different from their training exercises. The main differences were the amount of rations they carried and the cargo hauler they had retrofitted and slipped into the mission inventory. It was essentially a rolling cart, with simple controls, used for hauling large loads of cargo. Esma had suggested it, and Dean talked a few of the maintenance members into removing the governor that restricted the hauler's speed and reserved battery life. With a few minor changes the flatbed vehicle became a fully functioning transport craft. The platoon had to remove the small wheels, trading them for larger tires suitable for all terrains.
As soon as the back hatch opened the HA troops snatched up the bed of the cargo hauler. The demo team carried a wheel each, as did Staff Sergeant Mercer. The Fast Attack specialists carried the fourth between them. Once outside, the wheels were attached by Mercer and Buwana using power impact wrenches while the others formed a defensive perimeter.
Dean was the last person off the insertion craft, and by the time he got down the ramp the bulky power wrenches had been replaced in cubbies just inside the transport. It jumped off the ground in a wave of air that buffeted against the platoon of Recon specialists. Dean quickly checked the controls of the cargo hauler, ensuring that nothing had gone offline on the trip down from the Valkyrie. Once he was certain he could drive the utility cart, he locked the location on his navigation program in his TCU, then gave his first order.
"Let's move into the colony. I want everyone on high alert. These bugs kill people, this is not a drill. Formation Compass."
The platoon moved quickly into a column with Butler and Mason in front, their utility cannons moving in tandem with their eyes as they swept back and forth in search of enemies. Behind them came Ipsish and McCal, then Dean. Adkins took up t
he position to his right, and to Dean's surprise Chavez took the position on Dean's left side.
Dean looked at the big HA specialist who was normally full of doubts about his every decision. Chavez nodded, and Dean nodded back.
Behind them came Staff Sergeant Mercer and the platoon's sniper Buwana. Next were the demolition team, Cox and Lee, both men carrying heavy packs on their backs and on their chests. Their flechette rifles were lighter than the standard issue weapons and easier to wield with just one hand. Finally, bringing up the rear, were the last two HA specialists, Green and Bennett.
They went cautiously down the street, which was made of well-packed dirt. The colony was well constructed, but didn't use any of the normal materials that Dean was used to. There was no concrete or plastic, only biodegradable, native materials, and the prefab fiberboard buildings that looked like stucco from the outside.
"I've got a body," Butler said.
A light came on in Dean's TCU. He had a map overlay filling up his field of view. It was transparent so that he could see through it, but every building, road, vehicle, and implement was identified and marked in the powerful computer memory in his battle helmet. Dean looked over at the corpse. He hadn't known what to expect, but the husk he saw was not it.
"How long has this colony been down, LT?" Mason asked.
"A week, maybe two," Dean said.
"That body is totally desiccated," Butler said. "That ain't natural."
"We know they live on blood," Dean said. "They must suck their victims dry."
"They're damn vampires," Chavez said. "I can't wait to introduce them to my wooden stake."
"Can't find any ladies who want to see it?" Green joked.
"Can the chatter," Staff Sergeant Mercer said. "We have a job to do."
They continued forward, finding more bodies. Dean found a decent spot for his platoon to take cover. It was a small shop that looked like an exhibit from a museum of history. There was an anvil, hammers, tongs, and what looked like a forge. Metal tools hung from the walls. The front of the shop was an open overhead door, and the back wall was the same, only it was closed.
We Are The Wolf: Wolfpack Book 1 Page 19