[GZG Fiction] Moving South

G'day,

Sorry its been a long time since I started this one, but finally done. Might
get a few more in before the summer is out.

Also sorry for the cross posting, but wanted to get it across the different
lists.

Beth
> [quoted text omitted]

Moving South

Over the course of the last 24 hours the OU consolidated the gains of the last
few days. Now that weve settled for a few hours I can draw breath and try and
relate the days events.

The 2/34 cant point to the kind of multi-century spanning history of
units like the Black Watch, but yesterday they wrote another piece of their
history that is becoming just as noteworthy. They formed the main body of a
daring attack on the northern outposts of the KraVak stronghold in Severns.

The commanding officer for the attack was Colonel Iron George Baxter, who
recently received a field promotion for his actions in the Northern Plains
Campaign, culminating with his leadership of the attack at the Battle of
Ballachulish. He led the 500 strong force, made up almost
entirely of veterans from the 2/34, in a dawn drop on the northern
outskirts of the last major KraVak stronghold on Mars.

Originally the force was to be transported in the comfort of the bellies
of the state-of-the-art UNSC advanced grav-lift infantry assault
vehicles. This had created a great deal of excitement amongst the troops, who
(even if the rumours of inbuilt Jacuzzis were apocryphal) were hoping for a
little more comfort and security from the state of the
armour plating, navigation systems, large-bore plasma and laser weaponry
and the individual seating pods. The news that the UNSC had been retasked to
carry reinforcements from Lethbridge (in the southeast) over the KraVak
enclave to the NACs frontline south of Marin was greeted with some measure of
disappointment.

Usual fuckin cock tease.

Yeah. Just like a friggin holo stripper, leads you right to the edge and then
poof. All gone leavin you in a right royal mess.

While the additional firepower provided by the USNC plasma marines will no
doubt be a welcome addition to the NAC forces attacking the Krak to our south,
Ill be the first to admit it would have been a refreshing change to have a
more secure ride into combat. After a few more false starts around potential
heavy grav support for the assault, in the end
the main force was flown in by AV-12T troop transports and AV-6 assault
VTOLs under cover from a deadly mix of MAWP (grav powered autonomous
mobile weapons platforms), Hornet (AV-92A) and Mantis gunships. An
exceptional few rode in on the backs of the heavy Hammerhead assault grav
sleds that acted as the forward scouts for the attack.

I had the good fortune to once again accompany the 2/34, remaining with
the squad lead by Corporal Cathy Simms. We were, much to my relief, in one of
the rear troop carriers, tasked with clearing the immediate area of the most
northwestern of the outposts. The overall aim of the attack was to seize the
northern outposts as a prelude to larger scale assaults on the KraVak
positions in Severns.

The farmlands to the south of the city, as well as the city itself have been
beyond our reach since they fell on January 22nd 2194. While the KraVak have
been cleared from much of the area they secured during the initial invasion
(in 2194), they remain strong in and around the immediate area of the crater
city of Severns. Despite receiving very little in the way of interstellar
resupply for the past year they are still quite firmly entrenched in Severns,
showing very little if any decay in discipline, motivation or capacity.

Rurik and I had discussed this the night before the attack over our dinner of
black rice, anasazi beans and some kind of indescribable
par-boiled jerky. My precious stock of spices and Tabasco couldnt reform
this culinary disaster. Even the nosh from the company cooks seemed appetising
compared to too much longer eating this ration box mush. To add insult to
injury, there wasnt any chocolate in the boxes anymore either. It had been
hard enough when the bars had dropped in size, but
now they were gone altogether. And the idea of another nutri-bar was
enough to kill my appetite dead.

What I wouldnt give for a fresh caught trout, panned fried until the skin is
crispy, with a side of crisp noodle and ming bean salad, just a hint of mint
and olive oil, glass of red to the side, and blood orange or lime sorbet for
afters.

Da, da. But vhy yoo torture yooself? How yoo zink zey feel down zere? He said
nodding off at the dim outlines of Severns dissolving into the creeping dark.
Not even zeir solar system! Zey must have ayten from barggies for years

Barggies?

Yoo know zem. Rurik said waving his folk at a food pouch sitting by the fire.

Oh, baggie! I exclaimed in recognition.

You spend too much time talking to the septics in the Marin q-store mate
commented Riley from his position in the sand on the other side of the fire,
which was set in the bottom of the slit trench we were camped in.

Yoo vish ay do not? Rurik asked. Yoo prayferr PMTI? PMTI stood for Protein Mix
Type I what the I stood for no one knew, but it was probably for inedible
because that was what the pink mush was. You had to have been starved for
weeks to even bear the thought of attempting to consume it. Not even animals
would touch it. There was a story that a dog had been seen eating it once.
Depending on the storyteller the dog either threw its guts up for the rest of
the evening (often in the rack of whomever was said to own the dog) or was
found dead in the morning. Either way this evenings mush was infinitely
preferable to having to live off PMTI.

No, no, no! Its fine Rurik. You just keep right on sweet talking them queies.
Riley reassured him hurriedly between mouthfuls scraped form his dixie.

Having finished my own meal and squared away my meal kit Id switched to
preparing for the dawn assault. I sat there winding up my radio, rolling the
extra battery packs around in my hands to recharge them, then the
camera back-ups. Id worn my solar armband rechargers through some pretty
extreme conditions in my years as a reporter, but the dust here had
finally killed them. Back to dynamos and piezo-electrics. At first Id
found the manual effort to recharge the dynamos an annoyance, an unnecessary
failsafe given all the integrated piezo generators the equipment had. I
changed my mind pretty fast when Id had a few short on
me. I was particularly glad of the back-up batteries in my mask. Without
it any task more taxing than sitting and eating made me feel like I couldnt
fill my lungs, no matter how hard I tried. So now pumping the dynamos had
become a calming after dinner ritual.

As we talked about what it must be like for the Krak and debated the reasons
for their grit I fitted my gear back into my suit, having to jiggle it here
and there where compartment edges had gotten a little ragged or contacts no
longer sat exactly straight. I snapped the last battery into place in a small
cradle on the small of my back, just at the bottom of my ribs, and turned back
to see what Riley was trying to
point out to Rurik on a mud-map hed drawn in the sand. The firelight was
playing on the front of my thigh plates and I noticed a new crack down by the
knee joint. Glad I saw it before it gave under fire I dug through my pack for
my PAP (power armour putty, or combat clothing repair filler
as it was listed in the official inventory). I rubbed a pea-sized pellet
of the silky mix gently into the fissure until it was filled and packed down.
Then I smeared over the topcoat, counting off silently to twenty as I watched
it harden and bind with the plates until the crack was no longer visible, the
heat on my knee subsiding as the reaction dwindled. We werent technically
supposed to fix cracks while wearing the armour, but pretty much everyone
preferred to risk a burn rather than gamble they wouldnt get hit by fire this
close to the front while naked.

Last I slipped my visor cleaner out of my pack, unfolding the rugged pouch to
expose the microfibre cloth inside. Ive never mastered the technique of really
polishing them up while theyre still on so I pulled my specs clear of their
housing in my helmet (theyre made to do this, though pressing all the right
tabs at the same time can be a little tricky). Squinting by the light of the
fire; the smoky air and cold biting at my eyes, making them tear up. I
vigorously rubbed the cloth over the front of my specs in big circles. It
amazes me how well that works to buff off the little cracks, though nothing
short of a floor polisher could remove the deeper gouges. Ive just got used to
seeing around them. Everyone else is pretty much in the same position. To be
honest we probably havent noticed because the visibility has been so poor for
weeks weve been using BUGS the whole time, night and day. Those images are fed
to the inside surface so the outer scratches dont impinge on them.

I was all ready, with everything triple checked, and there was at least three
hours until wed get the order to move on to the launch points so I decided to
get some sleep. At times like this you could never have too much sleep in
hand. Rurik promised to wake me in time. I had never
overslept the entire time Id been with the 2/34, but everyone always
assumed I would or at least acted like they thought I would. The hangover of
being a reporter not a native of the unit I guess. I leant back against the
wall of the trench, letting my eyelids flutter down.

Dzhock. Dzhock. Vake up. Ee hrrave porreedge.

Theres nothing quite as disconcerting as waking up to the dirty, beaming face
of a Russian waving gruel in your face.

Rurik? What?

Zay geeve yoo two ayxtra hrroors. Now ayat.

How can you say no to such forcefulness. And I knew it could be many hours
before we had chance for a hot meal. There would no doubt be
mind-numbing hours waiting, hunched in some vehicle, but a warm meal
would be a long time coming.

Thanks. Its. Warm. I managed smiling up at Rurik.

Da vell, vhat yoo vant from crrooshed nootrribrrr?

Riley stopped mid mouthful and gaped. You made this from nutri-bars?
Rurik I dont know whether to marvel at your ingenuity or accuse you of sadism.
Sometimes you fuckin scare me.

Doesnt seem to have affected your appetite any. Cathy commented dropping into
the trench. She dropped to one knee to the side of the fire and drew a quick
square in the sand, dropping a centimetre wide disc in each corner. She was
silent for a moment her eyes going into that erratic flickering and fluttering
typical of someone driving their SD chip.

My parents werent luddites, but my mother was a fairly conservative natural so
we didnt get subdermal chips implanted as kids. My sisters about broke their
necks to get one as soon as they were old enough to do so without requiring
the folks permission. I got one the year I left home, but my eldest brother
has never picked one up which makes things quite difficult when travelling
with him, but Ill save the stories of family woe for another time. I dont know
whether it was because I was relatively old when I got my SD chip, but I have
never mastered pure neuro control. I either jag it all up, opening menus I
never intended, or get queasy. I do still carry a small palm board controller,
but I typically just use a throat band over the years Ive become quite adept
at voicing the commands without actually making any noise. Its second nature
now, if a bit old school.

Cathy obviously didnt have my hang-ups though, as shed quickly pulled up
a holo map of the area and was marking out our routes and targets. I shovelled
the last of the porridge into my mouth in a rush, chewing frantically and
trying not to gag.

Cathy snapped her fingers to get full attention. Theyre soaking the site in
motes as we speak so we should have good intel coverage. Therell be the usual
odd hole, but forward recon has been given eight extra kits to supplement
Marks babies so weve been advised just to call them forward any time things
get hazy.

Until theyre wanted in seven places at once

Cathy didnt miss a beat but looked Riley straight in the eye. I know weve had
issues with coverage in the past Riley, but just like then, if Marks run thin
well just harden up and revert to mike one echo or brass the bastards up.

Tracing her finger up a glowing yellow path Cathy marked our main line of
attack from VTOL drop to our final tasked line. She looked form face to face
outlining tasks and approaches and contingencies. All short, sharp, easy to
remember and no one with more than four things to keep in their head. She
continually impressed me with how well she handled this kind of thing.

The majority of the hardware has ended up down south again, so once again its
down to us ground pounders to sort the Krek out up here pretty much solo. Not
pretty, but at least we know its sierra quebec so no worries on that front.

Sierra Quebec. Status Quo. No worries. Part of you had to admire how
they just accepted that the 2/34 had been left to clean up the backwater
again, while the heavy guns were used in the main assault down south. It made
sense in the numbers game, but the fight was just as personal here even if
there were fewer troops on the ground.

There will be some nut crackers on the ground, though its a single platoon for
the whole company so dont expect the cavalry to come in and save your arse
just because youre in the shit. Well also have our usual share of MAWPs,
though theyre likely to be directly tasked by the boss, so again no guarantees
around relief on that front. From my perspective we just get in and get it
done, no silly business as there are bigger days coming. Cathy eyeballed each
one of us then, until we nodded consent. Wed all been around MAWPs, but she
obviously didnt want the potential presence of the grafters getting anyone
over excited.

On a brighter note I can tell you the Krek will be hard up down there. Over
the last two weeks they have had five resupply convoys destroyed on route
through the Sol system and last night us good old hoomans gave them a pretty
bloody nose there was a round of quiet approval and then stomped their sorry
arses into the cosmic background radiation. Cathy said with a grin, which met
much more vocal appreciation and a few hand slaps, or head butts, of approval.
They tried jumping in reinforcements in a three pronged attack. Waving her
hand over the viewing field Cathy replaced the map of our area with a
schematic of the solar system. She marking off the entry point of the three
Krak fleets with a tap of her finger on the projected cosmic terrain. The Krek
jumped three fleets in
about oh-one-hundred Zulu. Their alpha arrived edgeward of Neptune with
five Kilo-Charlie-Hotel Kontos and two big arse troop transports. Beta
jumped in edgeward of Uranus with a Kilo-Bravo-Bravo Katsumi, two
Kilo-Charlie-Hotel, a Kilo-Bravo-Charlie, two Kilo-Charlie-Papas, three
troop transports and five Kilo-Delta-Hotels. The last one came in Sol
side of Jupiter. It didnt have any transports but did have four
Kilo-Bravo-Delta-November Katanas and two Kilo-Sierra-Delta-November
Kickbacks. So big mothers, but older than the fleets that weve seen in the
inner colonies for the last couple of years now and none of the new ships
reported from Novy Sebastopol or Tau Ceti. That in itself is a good sign Id
say. Even better the rocket riders pink misted the paitya before they made
anywhere near our patch of dirt. The Euries had the hardest time against force
alpha, but got there in the end. The swabies did in force beta nice and
sharply. Talk about Germanic efficiency those new super armoured hulls must
suck up the punch. Force Charlie didnt have a direct run into Mars, they had
to swing by Earth and thats probably why they were heavy on punch. They still
ended up tango uniform
thanks to the white knights of the Uniform-November. The brass said most
of the whisky kilos ended up fubar, but they did stop the Krek before they
crossed Earth orbit so weve got to be thankful for that.

Cathy waved her hand over the map and it vanished, the disks flying up into
her glove as if drawn by a powerful magnet. Standing up she subconsciously
dusted off her knee.

Right we all know what we have to do here. So lets get oscar mike. Were
rolling in seven Cathy finished checking her watch.

I gave my pack a once over and straightened up waiting for the others, who
were going through final weapon checks and slipping away ammo mags that Cathy
was passing round. Rurik came up beside me and slapped me in the middle of my
shoulder blades with one of his enormous meaty hands.

Yoo feend pivo, keep may one. Da? May bay zose chuzhtreskatsya hrave good
pivo? he rumbled with a semi serious frown.

Okay, time to move arse. Nic called from down the way as he started counting
the squad over the edge over the trench.

A quick nod and Will do to Rurik (I wouldnt dare stand between him and
alcohol, no matter its source) and I was clambering up the side of the trench
and following the others at a trot. Weaving in between vehicles and stacks of
supplies, back towards a cluster of VTOLs. My BUGS picking
out boxey AV-6s, the heavily armed Hornet gunships, many of which had
been adorned with predatory paint schemes, and finally the long sloping
cockpits and ball mounted chin cannons of the Mantis gunships. People were
moving in every direction, sergeants and loadmasters directing traffic,
gesticulating and waving. Troops lining up to climb on board the VTOLs,
orderly, but hurriedly chaotic all at once.

One sight in particular caught my attention; a unit of CE-Cav. I paused,
slowing to a stop, jaw gaping in awe as I watched them stow their equipment on
board grav sleds. Taking up positions on the outside of the craft.

The two smallest were strapping equipment in behind the cockpits of two recon
sleds. At first glance the pair were not much different in appearance to large
men in heavy power armour. They had large plates down the front of their legs,
over their shoulders and down their
forearms. On closer inspection however, their two toed, hoof-like
metallic boots gave them way, as did their distinctive helmets. Solid across
the brow and down the sides of the head their rust coloured helmets had a
crest of sensors that ran along the central axis of the head. Turquoise lenses
slotted over eyes that glowed a dull red, the tell tale sign of cybernetically
enhanced vision. The sides of the helmet flared out where they clipped into
the dark grey jaw panels of the etched and layered gill masks that only
grafted lungs could efficiently use the ridged snout like masks creating too
much pressure for normal lungs to withstand. As the closest one to me turned
to pick
up a thick, low-hung rifle (its 30cm deep underslung grenade launcher
and magazines giving it a deep pug-nosed appearance) I could see the
pointed back of the helmet that acted as an excessively powerful
short-range transponder-receiver. I could also see the thick mass of
meshed tubing that linked the grafted legs into what remained of the original
human issue torso. These slid up under an arc of back armour. The standard
issue cammo storage pouches sitting snuggly in the small of the soldiers back
and the scarred and worn, and probably well loved, pistol holster strapped
over the oversized, composite leg armour of the thigh looked strikingly out of
place. Human touches to a cyborg spectacle.

It wasnt just their strange appearance that drew the eye and marked them as
odd, but also their bouncy, high stepping gait that was at odds with their
heavy appearance. If these two were odd then the rest of the unit were truly
bizarre. These did not have simple grafts; they hadnt simply replaced limbs
with prosthetics or eyes with lasers. These bodies had been so heavily
engineered the brain almost rebelled at the thought they
remained human. All but one were variants of the standard CE-Cav rebuild
of the xeno-war. Oversized armoured legs with two toed metallic
stability boots, thruster vents studded down the lateral line of the thigh,
knee and calf. High resistance mesh cabling lying under composite armour
plates covering the joins of the lower limbs into the abdomen. Heavily
armoured torso and shoulders, the particularly bulky carrying on
board small-gauge disk-artillery, chest-mounted flechette rounds,
small-bore plasma jets or integrated sensor systems for running nannite
swarms. In some the arms still looked vaguely human, finger-like digits
grasping oversized rifles, small cannons or shoulder stabilised missile
launchers. In others the arms had become weaponry with integrated heavy
machine guns and stabbing blades built into the terminal mounts of the many
jointed upper limbs. All had back mounted thruster ports and shoulder mounted
auxiliary navigational thrusters. Some had additional lateral thrusters vents
spotted evenly along what passed as their arms. The crests of their helmets
were quite similar to those of their more human colleagues, though they had a
single solid rabbit ear like antenna rather than the smaller pointed receivers
and their snouts were truncated and vertically slit, giving them the
appearance of metallic mandibles. Those still with vaguely human features had
a pair of dull red eyes covered over with the same turquoise lenses of their
more human looking compatriots, but others had paired rows of visual sensors
that ran the length of their head (from crown to jaw). Others had a tripartite
visual plate, with one grid down the nose and the others running back up over
the brow. The most disconcerting of all had one large almost featureless plate
that covered the entire face. These glowed lime green rather than dull red and
they were translucent enough
that the mish-mash of living and mechanical servos of the head could be
seen working underneath. As the cav troopers moved about, loading equipment
and securing extra ammunition to their mounts with retractable straps I could
see that each of them also had a retractable pair of wing stubs, folded into
their back plates, which I guessed could be swung into place to form a solid
lifting surface. For all this they moved with a graceful potency. They gave me
a feeling of controlled power, similar to that Id felt when Id seen a large
male leopard in a zoo as a child. Yet it wasnt the same. I couldnt put my
finger on it, but they didnt comport themselves the way my brain thought was
normal. It wasnt just that discipline and overt awareness you see amongst the
special forces. It went beyond that. They were different. They were bipedal, I
could see them joking with each other and their sled pilots, but they seemed
alien. Not in the same way as the KraVak, but still different to us. It made
me want to shudder, but then I felt guilty. These men (in the general sense, I
couldnt actually tell if any were women) were on our side, fighting the same
fight, had sacrificed for us.

My instincts were even more confused by the heavy weapons operator for the
unit. This body was so heavily modified, I had thought it was an
AI-mechtrooper until its deep baritone voice answered a query from the
sergeant of the unit. It had an overly wide splayed stance, about twice that
of a normal man; it was impossible that any of the original hips or pelvis
remained. It had the same cloven boots worn by the rest of the unit, but
oversized. In fact the entire body was oversized by double it seemed.
Enormously wide waste; deep triple jointed thighs; twin heavy cannons mounted
in the lower abdomen; horizontal jointed armour plates over the guts;
excessively long arms with hydraulic pipping from shoulder to elbow; radial
finger digits tipped with lasers and retractable blades; shoulder mounted
guided missiles; and an integrated cranial mount that was sunken into the
chest, so there was no clear neck
or head. There wasnt even a clear face, more just a squat sensor-covered
plate that ran diagonally back into the shoulders. There were strings of what
I took to be visual sensors under each solid rabbit ear antenna (which
protruded from the crest of each shoulder by about 10cm), but they could
equally have been chemosensory or auditory. There was also a rosette of
sensors or vents on what could only be called the snout (either that or it was
the sternum). The back was a mass of
interconnected hoses, servos, box-like slotted panels and cooling fins.
This man was a machine. It turned and looked at me, or at least it felt like
it did, and I was rooted to the spot.

Jock! I started, realising Id been holding my breath. Looking up I saw Cooper
standing there hands out (one still gripping his rifle) in exasperated appeal.
Jock! For fucks sake stop gawping and get your arse moving! I flicked my eyes
back, still partially distracted by the
CE-Cav. I turned my gaze back to Cooper  who was on the balls of his
toes, half turned to go, scowling, his impatience obvious in his stance. Youll
get yourself ripped a new one if you stand around in media mode when were
supposed to be mounted up. He said waving his head off over his shoulder. I
could see the rest of the squad forming up to board an
AV-6 about three rows of vehicles across from us.

Sorry. I hadnt seen CE-Cav this close up before. I fumbled, embarrassed.

Yeah well that freak show would do anyones head in I guess, but we aint got no
time to sight see now so lets go already. I knew Cooper didnt have an unending
love of embeds, so I was grateful for his mild concession. Id once asked him
why he resented my presence. Hes gone into a long ramble about having to worry
about covering untrained bodies that didnt significantly contribute. I could
sympathise with his point, even if embeds were now standard battlefield
features, some militaries even having it as a named unit role. Coopers words
had remained with me though and had been part of my motivation to take on an
auxiliary medic role. Later Id found out that his fathers career had been
ended prematurely and messily due to some scandalously poor and deceptive
reporting during the Third Solar War. After being dismissed Coopers father had
bounced from job to job before ending up as a uranium miner in one of the
poorer and more remote mining towns of northern Australia. He had later been
exonerated, but by then it was too late for him, his addictions, or dependent
family. I still took my medic role seriously.

As we approached our ride I recognised one of the pilots, he had flown
me into Marin when I had first come to the 2/34. He was a young
Lieutenant from the Pilbara region of western Australia; tall lean, bright
blue eyes and as sharp as obsidian. I was incredibly surprised to see him as
Id heard a missile had hit his VTOL months earlier. He was moving around
checking over the gunship, a frown of concentration cutting his brow, or what
I could see of it between his specs and helmet. Clearing the rear of the
cabin, he checked the rear fan and then hesitated as he realised he was about
to plough headlong into the queue waiting to board. He looked up and stepped
wide to go round and then he suddenly paused.

Hey youre that reporter bloke I dropped off up in Marin arent you? he queried

Yep, thats me.

Arent you dead? I heard you got one in the throat? he queried.

I could say the same, missile up the tail pipe is the way I heard it.

Well apparently were both tough sons-of-bitches, or people are telling
tall tales he laughed. You goin in with this lot? he said nodding in the
direction of the troops ahead of me.

I nodded.

You must be mad mate, at least we signed up for it, he said shaking his head
with a chuckle. Least youre not riding in on a grav sled like the Valkyries
over there. We both turned to look at the members of the SAS on the far side
of the landing field, who appeared to be busy securing straps for hand holds
on to the back of the sleds. Originally only the grafters were riding bare
back, but weve run short on seats so a couple of units of chicken stranglers
are going windows down too. I dont think theyve wiped the smiles off their
faces all morning he finished wrly.

Itd be some adrenaline rush. Riding into battle on the back of big chrome
steeds.

Maybe youre right mate, but I reckon youd have to be a few short to be lookin
forward to it. Best stop yabberin. Look me up when youre done and well compare
scars. Give you some tales thatll curl the ears of the folks back home hey?

Youre on. I said catching the edges of the hatch with my hands and stepping up
in.

It never ceases to amaze me who you chat up Jock. I thought you were gonna
yack all bloody day. Nic said, teasing humour clear in his voice and the
crinkling of the sand crusted skin around the edge of his specs.

Squeezing past Nic I threaded my way to the back of the VTOL, past the
squad sitting in hammock-like slings bolted to floor and ceiling by
woven straps. Flexible to arrange and easily removed when the AV-6 was
given a different task, like cargo transport, that required more space. I
dropped into a spare sling between Grace and Riley.

Hey Jock I was just saying to Grace here that she needs a nickname. You aint
nothin without ya own monicker, ya own tag, right? He asked looking from me to
Grace with a teasing smirk.

You oughta know motor mouth. Grace responded. She didnt seem much in the mood
for jocularity or even talking.

Riley continued apparently oblivious Aww come on Gracie, we could call you
Twinkletoes, ya pretty light on your feet. Grace didnt respond. She
just scowled. Or maybe Dice, after all I reckon ya about a D-twel

Hey Duracell? Nic called from his seat close by the side hatch. Nic had taken
to calling Riley that almost from the moment hed joined the unit as a
reinforcement back in Henna Dimashq. It wasnt hard to see why, the guy never
quit. He was always doing something, fiddling with something, chattering away.

Yeah? Riley answered.

Shut it.

Righto, but I

When youve taken out half as many Krak as Grace then you can go namin things.

But shes a fuckin freak. Could take out a gnat at a klick in a good wind!

Well then you got some practicing to do Duracell. Put all that energy of yours
to good use. But for now, shut it.

Riley sat quiet for a while, listening to Jeff and Chris croon over their new
toy (a harness mounted cannon), but the wait got to him eventually. We
discussed whiskey, music and the best meal wed had since the war began.

***

It felt like an age, but was than three quarters of an hour before we got word
we were on the move.

Ok boys and girls, this is your Captain speaking. Were skids up in 10. The
Krek arent happy about what the cloud punchers did to them overnight and they
got even more peeved when the first wave of feather men dusted down about an
hour back. So were flying dirty and be ready for a hasty tip out..... Starting
two.

Two active, check.

Starting three.

Three active, check.

Starting four.

Four active, check.

Starting one.

One active, check. All engines clear and up.

All engines clear and up. We have reds across the board and are clear for
hover. Order is to snuggle up as the drop shorts are sweeping the primary lima
zulu while were on approach.

Listening to the pilots go through their takeoff checklists I was by
equal measures pulsing with adrenaline-fuelled excitement and terrified.
I felt us pitch a little forward and then push straight up. Then we banked
gently and were again pushing forward, this time at a rapid pace.

I cycled the map in the lower corner of my specs through to the tac-air
map, which showed a cloud of VTOL icons, moving like a swarm over the contour
map of the crater lip and down into the Krak held farmlands. I switched to the
outside feed, the haze made it grainy, but I could see the landscape shooting
along beneath us, barely the height of a tall man away from our undercarriage.
I could see rocks and brush all very clearly, despite it rocketing past. Ahead
of us every building I could see was blazing, black smoke rolling up into the
sky. Cannons on the gunships were spitting fire, tearing up lines in the sand
and clawing great holes in the side of the mud brick and steel girder walls of
the
warehouses and bunkers. Tracer fire criss-crossed below us and I could
see the telltale plumes of RPGs.

To the side of us I saw a string of tracer fire headed straight for our VTOL.
The Captain must have seen it too driving us hard to the left, catapulting us
about in our slings. That string went sailing harmlessly
by, but the next burst didnt. The impact causing an ear-splitting
metallic clanging up the right hand side of the fuselage.

Shit one of the pilots breathed as the VTOLs tail kicked up and we slid left
hard. This was turning into a one hell of a rollercoaster ride. I could taste
the metallic tang of adrenaline.

I heard the roar of the twin mounted rear cannons open up beneath me as they
tore into the ruined buildings below us. Great chunks of wall cartwheeled
away. Then the wall collapsed, half simply crumbling in place while another
section folded forward. I could see Krak signatures imposed by the AI on the
fine dust cloud that had risen to obscure the camera feed. They werent moving
and the freezing Martian atmosphere was leeching their heat fast.

Suddenly, amidst the stomach tumbling sweeps of the VTOL, a tight but calm
voice cut into our comms.

Ok ladies and gentleman, LZ in 4 minutes. Hope youve enjoyed flying the
friendly Martian skies. FUUUUUUUCCCKKK. The last in response to a rocket that
can only have missed the nose of the VTOL by nanometres. The pilots wrenched
us into a set of turns so tight my head felt light and my ears started to
ring. The sling grip felt like it was cutting into my hand even through my
glove. My stomach went hollow as I went from Mercurian to Jovian gravity in
seconds, my shoulders screamed as my head and neck buried into them, rammed in
at speed. I could feel blood trickling down the underside of my chin where my
helmet strap had cut the soft skin. I couldnt stop the moan that shoved out of
me as the next jink rammed a plate of my abdominal armour straight into my
diaphragm, pushing down into my bladder and cutting cross the tops of my
thighs. I was going to have some interesting bruises. I started to grow dizzy
and my vision was tightening, blackening at the edges.

1 minute!

I didnt know how I was going to roll off after this without getting my arse
shot off, but I was soon going to find out.

We pushed to our feet even before the VTOL touched the ground.

Go, go, go!

I was second to last off, swinging out the hatch and landing in maelstrom of
dust and pebbles, descending VTOLs, dismounting troops, Krak slugs. I ducked
down balancing on the balls of my feet, the fingertips of one hand steadying
me in the gritty dirt. The filters on my BUGS strobed a bit as they attempted
to dial out the worst of the glare, but the flashes from missile hits on
nearby buildings still washed out my vision, leaving angry lights dancing in
my vision as I tried to blink them away. My audio feed also clamped down,
trying to focus just on the unit comms. I could feel the sound vibrating
through my body, though. Oddly my teeth ached.

The fusillade of fine stones pelting my backside reminded me that one of the
manic whines buffeting my ear buds was the VTOL taking off behind me. I swung
on the balls of my feet to throw a quick glance up over my shoulder, but if it
wasnt for the pale green mesh the BUGS overlaid on the scene I wouldnt have
been able to pick our VTOL out amongst the dust and rushing, blurred edged
ghostly silhouettes filling the skies above me. I scurried forward, dodging
into cover behind a temporary shield Cooper had deployed. All up the team had
deployed three shields and were crouched low in firing positions readying to
advance. Jeff was wearing
the cannon, Chris having lost the 5 round bout of rock-paper-scissors
back in the VTOL on the way in. Fire was whistling overhead and to either
side. It didnt seem like the Krak had gotten the memo about being bombed into
the Stone Age setting them back before our attack.

The strings of purple tracers marking explosive Krak rounds were carving tight
paths past the shield. The air was alive with the triboelectric glow of the
rounds interacting with the fine dust through which they flew. The golden
trails begun to merge and writhe, giving the impression that even the air
surrounding us was on fire.

As we planned Nic, well harbour up by the eastern gate of the first compound.
Mark you ready for launch?

Yep. The chooks are painting this area clear. Mark responded looking up from a
scanner he was shielding in his palm.

And we know what ace pongos they are. Riley muttered before more clearly
stating that his SAW is ready to cover your sexy little arses if you want to
get em swayin sweethearts.

Following Cathys lead I stayed hunched and sprinted for the rock wall edged in
canary yellow on my BUGS.

* * *

The sun was well over the horizon now and it suffused the sandy haze with a
delicate tea rose pink glow. Closer to where the dull disk of the sun
struggled upwards the pinks were replaced with smoky shades of light, but
gritty, steel blue.

The counter in the corner of my eye let me know wed been at this for just over
2 hours already. Clearing through building after smoking building. My stomach
was dull with hunger and the inside of my shirt felt sticky with newly dried
sweat.

Looking past the enhancers I could see the darker shapes of Keoni and Ase to
either side of me, and Id made sure to keep Cathy in view, but everyone else
was lost, visibility once again only measured in metres. As usual I was
thankful for the specs enhancements, meshes and icons painting the scene to
completion. The feeds were even more detailed than usual. The RNACAF mote drop
the night before had saturated the area and we were thankful for the live
intel on all the major target sites. We were equally thankful that the nannies
(troops tasked with controlling the platoons nannite scanners) had been
amongst the first on the ground, concentrating on any gaps in coverage and
quickly patching up any holes. Wed been making fairly rapid progress, clearing
out blockhouses, until wed found ourselves facing one such hole. It was marked
as a potential Krak command location and Cathy had chosen caution over a mad
dash. Our advance had momentarily halted. Shed put a quick call in to the boss
and Mark had come loping in from somewhere. His armour was streaked with mud
and dust, chunks of plaster caught in some of the folds up around his
shoulders, and there were fresh gouges from Krak small arms across his upper
torso. Up close all their weapons were deadly, but some of their smaller
weapons lacked the range of our rifles and it was possible to survive direct
fire if at range.

Theres an occlusion in the coverage. More than half of the front of that
building is dark. Im not walking into that without some eyes on.

The winds too strong to release from here. Were going to have to get closer.
Lee of the wall? Mark suggested marking a point with his finger on the holomap
Cathy had projected on the dirt between their squatting bodies.

Cathy, caste a glance up over her shoulder, as if trying to get eyes on
confirmation that was sound, which was impossible given the scrubbed
visibility. After only a moments hesitation, Cathy looked at Mark and gave him
a nod. Ill go with you, cover to the left. Ase youll take right she said,
tagging him on the tacmap in my bugs, his icon briefly swelling before a
ghosted version moved off on a dashed line to take up position across the
laneway against the wall. Marks and Cathys doing likewise. The rest of you
keep eyes on, in case the neighbours come out to play.

Ase moved up beside Mark, Cathy counted down 3 on her fingers and they
sprinted off into the dust. The rest of the squad laid covering fire along the
lane to either side and Riley rattled his SAW across the upper storey of the
building. Ase covered the distance unhindered, but Cathy and Mark slid into
position under fire. They settled into a small alcove by the gate, which might
have once held a statue or urn or some other decorative piece. Before the
invasion it must have been a fairly impressive residence, as Mark and Cathy
knelt at the foot of the mud
brick wall fairly comfortably. The wall edged a court-yarded building,
the second storey peeking out over the top of the wall, which had once been
topped with arched terracotta tiles.

It felt like a long wait as Mark released the motes and hunched over his
scanner, reading off details to Cathy. The boom of explosions and the roaring
whistle of rockets and artillery sounded around us. The air was
rent with BRRT-BRRT of machine gun fire and the pop of lasers and PIGs
blasting through the cool dust filled air.

We were sitting in the ruined remains of someones back yard. It was a tiny
space and any greenery was long dead, the back wall breached and the remnants
of a garden setting lying shattered to my left. Grace was covering Ases
position, leaning out around the ruined end of the wall and firing short
bursts. From where I sat it was about 50 metres past Grace to where Ase
crouched.

Cathys voice finally sounded in my ear. Right. There are Krek in there. At
least 3 groups. One huddle in each of the rooms opening on to the courtyard.
Theres likely more upstairs, but that feed is being jammed. Im not sure if
theyve intentionally set a kill zone in the courtyard, but thats the way it
looks. Bugger of it is that we have little option, as our arses will be
blowing in the breeze if we try to go round from behind. Its still safest to
pigdog it through this one, so well Bravo Bravo Whiskey the walls and go
Victor Mike.

Bravo Bravo Whiskey, Victor Mike. Big Bad Wolf, Vanilla Matilda. That meant we
were going to blow the walls and then follow a standard waltz, one team
clearing each wing of the building. It would be too crowded if we all went in
together. First we had to dash across the lane, one team at a time. Wed go
first while Nics team covered us.

Steeling myself, I set my mind for the up and go. I was focused on Cathy,
tensed to follow her. Even though I couldnt really see her, my BUGS painting
her in. I knew shed be counting down on her fingers, up on the balls of her
feet. Four. Three. Two. BOOM. My heart thudded and I physically jumped,
distracted, looking about to see if I could spot where that had hit. It was
close by, the grit pattering on my helmet like a fine hail.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Grace disappearing around the corner of the
building. In my lapse of concentration Id nearly missed her exit.

Get a move on Jock! Nic commanded as I went sprinting past him.

I knew I was a lot fitter than I had been in years. Racing here and there,
monitored diet, constantly carrying my kit. If nothing else Id had to carve 3
new notches in my belt and my armour sat differently, tighter across the
shoulders and thighs, loser around the middle. Nevertheless these sprints
always seemed interminably long. Slugs whistled by, or thudded if they struck
the ground, sparking as they ricocheted off rock or spraying up arcing
fountains of sand. My heart was pounding from tension more than exertion.

We stopped, crouched low against the courtyard wall. Keoni and Ase took turns
to pop up and lay rounds into the main building as Nic brought his team
across, taking up position on the opposite side of the courtyard gate.
Balancing on my toes I panned up into the dusty sky, trying to spot anything
moving in the upper windows, across the top floor and then down the far side.
Then I rotated from right to left, down the lane in one direction, back to the
building we had just come from, down the lane in the other direction. The
upper windows were only visible under enhancement, but the lane was beginning
to clear a little. I could see our troops spaced along the wall in both
directions and even with the naked eye I could just make out the edges of the
adjoining buildings. In the main path I could make out individual clouds of
fine dust levitating in mid air in the light gravity. There was also the
ubiquitous ZWHING and popping of passing rounds, but they had to be from a
distance as they werent kicking up significant dust. So basically, nothing of
note direct threat wise out here. This was actually incredibly unsettling,
given our position outside an enemy held building mid-battle. My mind
instantly started to fret over what they had planned. Taking a deep breath I
tried to settle myself. Come on, keep it together. Just follow Cathys lead
Jock.

Mark suddenly indicated he was needed elsewhere and sprinted off down the
lane, disappearing back around the corner of the building complex wed just
left.

Right cross check. Cathy called

Time to focus on the teams actions, prepare to go in. She signalled to us that
Ase would set the charge on this side, once it blew Keoni would toss in a
grenade and then Grace and Cathy would enter with Riley covering. I would
bring up the rear. Nics team would be mirroring the effort on the wall against
the other wing of the house.

There were nods of ascent all round. Keoni, Grace and Riley moved further off
along the wall, while Cathy and I remained where we were by Ase. Ase swung his
pack off his back, gently resting it in the dirt. He quickly pulled out a
shallow tray, made up of a series of small compartments, like squares in a
large block of chocolate. First he
palmed a coin-sized disk off the back of the tray, slapping it to the
back of his glove, where it clung to a magnetised strip in the material. Then
he flicked the clip on the sealed tray and slid it open one row, gently
rolling the contents of two small cells into his hand. He started rolling them
between his fingers and on the palms of his hands and then shuffled forward,
stopping about 8 metres from Cathy and I, roughly half way to Grace. He was
also at about the mid line of the room on the other side of the wall.
Kneeling, he turned to either side, waiting for each of us to nod in
acknowledgement to make sure we understood what he was doing. Then he turned
back to face the wall, kneading the two small
putty-like balls into the mudbrick. Each ball had expanded to a few
centimetres in size and he spaced them about shoulder width apart. Keeping his
head down Ase quickly stepped back close to Cathy. Not everyone is a fan of
slap triggered explosives, but Ase seemed to be at ease.

Fire in the hole. Fire in the hole. Three. Two. One. Ase slapped the disk on
the back of his hand and the wall blew in, dust rolling back out the hole with
a rain of small debris.

Immediately everyone was stepping in to position, stacking up beside the hole
in the wall ready to enter. Keoni was closest and had a grenade in his hand
from the rack on his vest. Frag, frag, frag he called holding it out in front
of him before he rolled his shoulder to the edge of the hole in the wall and
tossed the grenade in.

Another crumping thud, shaking walls and rolling cloud of dust.

Grace fired a burst through the hole before disappearing inside, the rest of
the team sliding in behind her. I was last in. The firing and explosions had
taken out the windows and a sick light was fighting its way through the dust
in the room. There wasnt much left of the Krak in this room, mostly smoking
hunks of flesh and entrails.

Clear sounded all round. One room down, many to go. My heart was racing in
anticipation. Keoni moved up next to the door, pulled another grenade form his
vest and counted down on his fingers. Three. Two. One

Frag, frag, Frag he called pushing on the door and flinging the grenade
inside. There is a loud crump, but also a vicious spray of fire, which knocked
Ase to the floor. There were large grooves across the right shoulder of his
armour, but no obvious punctures. Keoni pressed tightly against the wall,
stretching his mammoth arms forward to fire wildly past the open door. Not
particularly textbook, but hed bought Ase time enough to skid backwards into
cover.

You ok? I call to Ase.

Orait. Soko. He might have been saying he was ok, but the fact Ase has fallen
back into Pidgin and his native Hua Papuan suggested he just had a tremendous
scare.

Frag, frag, frag. Keoni was trying again. This time ploughing through the
talcum powder like dust rolling back through the doorframe even as the echoes
of the grenade were still dying.

The rest of the team followed in short order, but as I come through the door
Krak slugs whizzed by my ear. I dived behind an upturned table, realising this
was poor cover immediately even before it started to splinter under fire. I
frantically half squirmed half crawled across the floor to a point of refuge
behind a brick pillar.

Rifle fire streamed around the room. I took a very quick glance before ducking
back in, by reflex my arms curled up over my head. Like that would help! The
quick glance had helped flesh out the tacmap though. We were in a long room
perhaps a ballroom, or games room or some large entertainment area adjoining
the courtyard through the now smashed windows. Fine dust was giving the room a
hazy air; tracers making the room look like it was hung with Christmas lights.
No piece of furniture was left intact, pictures had been blown form the walls
and there were large chunks form the floor and ceiling too. I thought both
sides would like to close, but the air felt almost solid with shot.

With my back to the fighting I could only see snippets. A ricochet hit the
back of my helmet slinging it forward off my head, on instinct my scrambling
hands caught it and rammed it down again. I checked the neck strap just to be
sure.

Looking to my right I saw Ase rising to his knee and firing a burst across the
room, but before he can drop again three slugs hit him in the chest. Another
caught him in the shoulder blade as he spun around like a rag doll and a final
one slammed into the back of his head, emptying out his forehead and into the
solid wall behind him.

I was in awe, my mouth hanging open at what had just happened. Past him I
could see Grace spitting in the breech of her rifle as she tried madly to
clear it, all the dust must have jammed it. Suddenly she screamed clutching
her knee and then her hip. Without thinking I shot out of my sanctuary and
sprinted across to her. Without breaking stride I caught her around the chest
and effectively tackled her, carrying her in behind a balustrade above a small
set of stairs on the far side of the room. She gave a piercing scream as I
grabbed her up and again as we landed, looking at me with fury as I positioned
her against the marble so I could see how badly she was hurt.

Sorry I said softly, cringingly, as I ran my fingers rapidly over her knee up
her leg and then up over her hip around her back. The round had entered her
knee, torn through her thigh, before shredding her intestines and shattering
her pelvis and sacrum on exit. Her femoral artery was cut. Severed up near the
pubis it was pumping ruby red blood out in big pulsating arcs. Pinching the
artery on one hand I fumbled with sticky fingers in the pouch on my thigh. It
was seconds if that, but it felt like a lifetime before my fingers found an
arterial trauma kit (ATK). Pulling it free I slipped off the clamp and
switching hands I had to push my fingers into Graces thigh to pull the artery
down far enough to clamp it off. She was breathing hard trying not to pull
away in pain, but she couldnt bite back the harsh wail as I stretched the
artery down to get a solid grip on it. Her face was ashen now and she was
obviously slipping in and out of consciousness. Next I slipped a tourniquet as
high up the leg as I could, right to the top of the thigh. Then I cracked open
the tube that nested at the heart of the ATK and
pulled free the packing, a gel-filled blob that activated as soon as I
got it into the wound. It expanded, packing the gaping wound and keeping it
under pressure. Then I pushed three tubes of refill into her crutch, trying to
put temporary seals on any internal damage. The surrounds were dripping with
her blood, her clothes were soaked in it, as were mine, and the floor was
thick with it.

Take. my. weapon Jock.

All I could do was look at her in shock. Id been armed before in this war and
we were obviously in a bad way here, pinned down and with no idea how Nics
team was faring, but the lock on her face really drove home how badly off we
were. She was terrified. Sucking in great gasping breaths. She pushed her
rifle into my hand pulling at the extra magazines on her vest.

I tried to concentrate on what Cathy was saying, to what any of the team were
saying, but could only pick out a few words between the bursts of rifle fire.
I flicked an eye to the tacmap instead. Graces icon already had her marked as
critical and Ases icon had a small skull and cross bones nestled inside.
Steadying myself against the railing I fired a few quick bursts on a Krak who
had stepped out a broken window into the courtyard to make better progress. He
went down hard, drilled through the head. My heart was pounding.

There was a yelp from Riley and I saw him go facedown. My breath caught, but
then he rolled over. Leveraging off his SAW he pulled himself into a sitting
position, legs akimbo, and went back to laying suppressing fire. The bottom
half of his calf was so mangled I could see it was offset from his leg by
about the thickness of my fist. I went to push off toward him, but Grace
pulled me back down hard on my butt.

What? I swung my head round madly, trying to see why she had grabbed me. Whats
wrong? Are you hit again?

No. use. grenades cover advance. she forced out. Eyes lolling and losing
focus. She was still deathly pale. Know. how?

Yes. Though Ive done it more the range than in anger I thought to myself.

She tried to pull four of the six grenades off her vest, but she was to weak
and I gently untangled her fingers as I slipped them off her instead. Turning
in place again I took three large steadying breaths and pulled the pin on the
first grenade. Lobbying it toward the other end of the room, I waited for the
eye searing flash before sprinting for Rileys position. What felt like a swarm
of Krak slugs still followed me the entire way.

I ended up sharing the solid rock plinth Riley was half behind. I took a quick
look up. The supporting pillar atop our hide was missing large chunks and
didn't look completely stable. If it went I was afraid half the ceiling may go
with it.

Whats the damage? I asked Riley, digging through my pouch for painkillers and
strapping.

My dancin days are done Jock.

Pain?

What the fuck do you think?!

No what level? Out of 10?

If I say 11 would that really make any difference?

No, not really. Can you swing it in so I can strap it up?

With a fair amount of swearing Riley rolled on to his stomach, wrapping his
legs awkwardly behind the plinth. I was afraid that this was leaving his head
and torso more exposed. Although when I said as much, Rileys terse response
was.

Fuck Jock, youd better work fast then. No pleasin some people is there He
punctuated this with a steady burst of the SAW.

I started to work on the leg, first sticking a vial of painkiller into the
calf. The shuddering that happened every time Riley fired made it quite
difficult to patch the leg however, especially without inflicting further
pain.

What the fuck are you doing back there Jock? BRRRT Youre not me Mum preparing
a Sunday roast you know!

Sorry, its just that youre jumping about a bit

That tends to happen. BRRRRT when youre face down in the shit. BRRRT.

I emptied a tube of clotting agent directly into the ankle and sprayed it and
his entire foot with a binding foam brace. He looked like he was wearing an
elephant foot umbrella stand as a shoe. Not pretty, but it would bear his
weight if it had to.

Done, but you need evac.

Ta Jock. Figure thats the least of me worries right now though. He swung back
round to a sitting position, resting his shoulder against the rock, his bulky
leg now stuck out almost comically. I took up position on the backside of the
plinth, popping up to fire through a large hole in the pillar. Suddenly sparks
started to fly and Riley began giggling.

What the- ? I asked between shots.

Fuckin Krek are hitting me new concrete boot. Tickles.

Tickles? Perhaps Id over done the painkillers!

The bursts from the SAW become a solid buzz-cutting wall of sound. Riley
had gone cyclic and was sweeping along the line of the smashed French windows
down to the far end of the room. I saw at least two Krak ripped apart. The
torso of a slim purplish one falling backwards out into the courtyard, the
other large and more brown in colour slumping into the general debris across
the floor.

Thats shut em up BRRRT cant have them ruining your handy work. Riley quipped,
returning to short bursts. I shot a quick glance in his direction and saw a
reddish glow coming from Rileys barrel. He must have come close to a melt jam.
I also realised hed also used a lot of ammunition over the last few hours, at
least 15 magazines, at least 7 in this fight alone. Hed had 10 before we
punched through the wall and I could only see 2 left in his pouch.

A reverberating BOOM and a rain of plaster from the ceiling was the first
notice I had that Nics team, or what remained of it, was trying to force entry
from the hallway to our right. Trying to link up with him Cathy and Keoni
threw grenades and pushed further down the room. On the other hand the fire
was so solid I was finding it increasingly hard to put my head up to fire at
all and had a few times just held the rifle up and fired in the Kraks general
direction. I soon thought twice about that though, I didnt want to hit one of
our own.

I popped up and lobbed a grenade at a dangling family portrait, using it as a
target point for the Krak positioned along that wall. I was trying to provide
cover for Cathy as she pushed closer to a large set of doors. Just then a
breathless Nic burst through the fuzzy, Krak jammed comms.

Mortar on courtyard. 10 Coop. door Cle. Clear ar. Fire in the ho..

Cathy quickly scrambled back the way she had come, under intense fire. I saw
at least five shots spark off her armour. The last drove her face down into
the floor behind the remains of a grand piano. The discordant sounds of
strings hit by the shots added to the general unrelenting cacophony.

Seconds later, and almost at the same instant, there was a series of blinding
flashes to my left out the courtyard windows, so close together they sounded
like one long ear splitting rumble. The ground heaved and tore itself apart,
tossing great chunks of tile and rock and a blizzard of fine stone in across
the room. And to my right the wall Cathy had been approaching trembled and
starting flying apart. Chunks of masonry and plaster hurtled across the room.
My first instinct was to duck, turning into the rock plinth and covering my
head with one arm. I was disoriented by the concussion and confusion of noise,
lights and sudden shadows, as the fine dust in the air cut visibility to
almost nothing.

My BUGS kicked in drawing in what my eyes couldnt see. Chris had blown
his way through the wall with the harness-mounted cannon. His torso was
caked in blood and dust and Jeff was nowhere to be seen. Not two steps in the
door his body jerked about like some mad marionette and he was cut in half,
blood and intestines spraying the team members entering behind him. His upper
body came to rest beside the hole hed blasted, still cradling the cannon in
tattered arms.

The rest of Nics team literally rolled through the hole, crawling from cover
as the Krak laid a hail of fire on their entryway.

Seeing his mates trapped under fire Keoni unfolded himself in front of me and
with a primal bellow sprinted straight at Chriss body. He leapt over rubble
and bodies and was apparently impervious to the hits his giant body was
taking. As he reached Chris remains he yanked the cannon free of the harness
and spun in place, his arms bulged with the effort to hold the enormous
weapon. He fired, resting the butt of the cannon roughly against the side of
his hip. His upper body shook as he swept the barrage in a wide arc across the
back of the room until he got to the courtyard windows. Then back again, like
a methodical bot sweeping the room for pests.

One by one the enemy fell. Some in the action of firing, some enraged to the
point that they had leapt from cover in some final insane charge. Keoni kept
at it, sweep after sweep. I was mesmerised by the flashing barrel, the
continuous crackle of fire, the twitching of the belt fed ammunition as it
slid through the cannon and the thump after thump Keonis body absorbed as the
Krak tried to bring him down.

The rest of the team hadnt frozen however; they moved spontaneously to support
Keoni in clearing the room. A grenade arced over from behind my left shoulder
and pulled my attention back to Grace. Even she was lobbying in her last few
grenades from her position back behind the balustrade. I was surprised she was
conscious. Actually I was surprised she wasnt dead.

The return fire thinned and eventually the Krak fell silent. Cathy
called cease-fire through the few remaining BRRTs from Riley. Nic, Cathy
and Cooper moved in amongst the Krak bodies, putting a bullet into the brain
of each one to make sure they were really dead.

I went over to Keoni to see how badly he was hurt. He looked like hed been
doused in red paint. He had blood running down his face, around the edge of
his specs, from a head wound hidden by his helmet. Blood also dribbled from
networks of fissures across his chest, abdomen and upper thighs. His
collarbone was fractured, but surprisingly the rest was fairly minor in
comparison to Grace and Riley. He was sore and his mouth was drying fast, but
he told me he was ambulatory.

I looked to Chris. His status was beyond question, so I moved over to Cooper,
who was covering the hallway beyond the blasted wall and doors. His left side
was hurt. He had a deep gash that curled behind his ear, his earlobe was gone
completely, his arm hung uselessly and he winced when he put weight on his
left leg. He was also deaf. Hed been caught by the blast of an explosive Krak
GAC round as theyd cleared the hall into help us.

I SORTED THE CUNT DWELLING PAITYA, BUT CANT HEAR A FUCKIN THING!

Have you taken anything for the pain?

WHAT?

HAVE YOU TAKEN ANYTHING FOR THE PAIN?

WHAT?

I reverted to my SD to type my question onto his specs. It appeared he could
still see at least.

Have you taken anything?

I was very grateful that the frightfully humiliating days when even such a
simple sentence would have been riddled with excruciatingly embarrassing
misspellings were long gone.

Copper nodded indicating that hed already self-administered a mild
painkiller and some clotting agent. It was very clear why these guys practiced
treating themselves one handed. I swabbed the cut around his ear with some
antiseptic and added some temporary patches over the worst of the abrasions.
There wasnt much else I could do, beyond provide him with some painkillers.

ANY CHANCE YOU COULD DO SOMETHING FOR THE ARM? ITS THROBBING LIKE A BITCH.

Gravity was his worst enemy there. A sling would help. I pulled the triangular
bandage out of my kit and looked at it hopelessly. It was far too
inconsequential to get round his shoulders and armour and kit. Casting about
for an alternative, my eyes settled on the harness that used to carry the
RFAC. I climbed over to Chris body and eased it forward so I could access the
clasps. Once Id slipped it off him I gently rolled him back against the wall,
trying not to look directly at him. I slid my small knife from a pouch on my
upper arm and cut into the knitted straps. It took a bit of effort and the tip
of my blade snapped off, catching in the toughened material, but I eventually
cut through it. Taking the straps back to Riley I managed to fashion a crude
sling.

Wheres Jeff?

DEAD.

Jeff had died soon after theyd punched into the other room.

Satisfied that Cooper was as comfortable as I could make him, there was only
Nic and Cathy left to check. They were standing across the room, closer to the
ruined doors to the courtyard, in the midst of a blood soaked charnel house.
Deep in conversation, Cathy was gesticulating across the courtyard and up to
the ceiling, probably discussing the rooms above our head.

A quick check of the tacmap showed that the entire building was marked as
clear. I later found out that Nics team had dealt with the few Krak upstairs
before linking up with us.

I slipped as I approached, the ruined furniture proving unstable as it skidded
across a floor greased with blood and viscera. I caught myself before I went
completely over, but my hand came up sticky and draped in Krak innards. I
recoiled, shaking it free and rubbed my hand down my thigh. Nic chuckled.

Not sure that helped Jock.

Looking down I realised I was coated in a grisly cement of dust and bodily
fluids. The last smear only serving to add a few more grisly decorations to my
thigh.

Trying not to think about it I focused on their status instead.

Are you both ok?

They both admitted to a few cuts and scrapes, but on closer inspection they
would both be marked as casualties when we got back to camp. Cathy had been
hit twice, in the buttock and elbow, with a nasty gash to the back of the neck
for good measure. Nic had a mild limp, where he rolled his ankle stepping off
a raised landing in the hallway, and was bleeding from a series of slug holes
that ran diagonally across his back, like perforations in an old style stamp
book. Thankfully, like Keoni, the underlying lacerations were fairly minor and
it wouldnt take long to sort them once we were back in a proper field
hospital.

We had secured the building, but it had been at a stiff price one hundred
percent casualties. Well of the trained personnel. Seems Id gotten through
unharmed. Theoretically Cathy still had objectives marked for us to take, but
it was obvious we couldnt go on as we were. She instructed Nic to call in a
CASEVAC, while I took her to Grace and Riley, Keoni and Cooper did the best
they could to secure our position against any potential Krak counterattack.

Cathy led the way back over to Grace, picking her way through and over parts
of the ceiling, chunks of the floor, smashed furniture and three fallen
support columns. Cathy knelt beside her, surveying her condition.

How are you Gracie? Cathy asked gently.

Im okay she answered, though she looked anything but, pain etched in her face
as she tried to get more comfortable and her breathing was ragged. The tourn.
the tourniquet. It's a bit tight.

Cathy looked to me, but I shook my head to indicate we couldnt loosen it.

There was a crunch behind me and I turned to see that Nic had stepped over the
railing to stand just off to the side. Slowly running his eyes and rifle over
the scene out the shattered windows as he spoke. The bird will try and come
down at the end of the lane, bit of a crossroads there, more space. No exact
ETA, but they reckon at least 15.

I wasnt sure Grace had 15 minutes.

We needed to get all the wounded, but especially Grace, to the EVAC point,
while not leaving ourselves too exposed. Nic, Keoni, Cathy and I would
stretcher Grace out with Riley and Cooper covering us. I shrugged off my pack
ready to rearrange it into a field stretcher. When I started to unfold it
though I realised it was nothing but ribbons and my water
bladder was so torn as to be non-existent.

Youve got some nice fret work there Jock. Riley observed dryly reaching out to
run his fingers down the grooves and pock marks in the armour on my back.

A chill went down my spine.

We used Rileys pack instead. It had a tear in the seat, but at least it was
intact.

Riley and Cooper led us across to the courtyard gate, hobbling. Cooper pushed
the gate open and Riley stepped through to check the lane. Stepping back in he
indicated it was all clear. Cycling from my tacmap to the latest sitrep map I
could see that the entire area had been painted as friendly now. Cathy
preferred to remain cautious however sheltering in the courtyard rather than
moving out on to the road just yet.

Now we were in place we waited. And waited. It felt like an age, sitting there
watching Grace. She was conscious and talking, but her breathing was even more
erratic. She was dying and we were still waiting.

Flicking to the tac-air map I watched as VTOLs of all sizes passed to
and fro. Looking up to watch the skies directly I could make out shadowy
shapes crisscrossing at the edge of vision. There were a lot of wounded today.
I checked on the possibility of a ground pick up, but the minefields werent
clear. It would have to be by air.

5 minutes to ETA and a VTOL skimmed the roof of the compound. My heart jumped.
They were early! Just as quickly my hopes were dashed as I realised they were
only dropping body bags. Nic and I collected the bodies. Nic went to get Jeff
and I went back into the long ballroom, as Id come to think of it. I entered
by the shattered windows closest to the outer wall, ducking under the jagged
glass and sliding across the balustrade on my stomach, pivoting once I had one
leg on the ground. The floor was still sticky with Graces blood, but it was
the most direct route to Ase. I laid the bag down beside him and lifted him
in. First his upper body, I twisted it to lie on his back, and then his legs.
His face was just a bloody pulp, but it seemed like cowardice or disrespect or
a mixture of the two not to face it. It felt much better to have him lying on
his back, arms by his sides. Once he was zipped in, I squatted, pulled the bag
up over my shoulder in a firemans carry. He was surprisingly light. Trying not
to tarry, given the CASEVAC timetable, I picked my way back across the floor
until I could step fairly cleanly out into the courtyard. Nic passed me as I
crossed to lay Ase by Cathys feet, he was headed back for Chris. I laid Ase
down as carefully as I could and then jogged back to help Nic. He already had
Chris torso in the bag by the time I got back and was searching through the
rubble for his legs. Nic found one fairly quickly and I found the top of the
second one soon after, but we were hunting round for the rest when we heard
gunfire outside.

Contact. Cathy called in over the headset.

I grabbed Chris body while Nic led us out, his rifle up and ready.

When we got back to the courtyard, Riley and Cooper were taking turns leaning
out the gate and laying fire down the lane.

Bird is inbound and we have at least 3 Krek between us and the crossroads.
Cathy informed us as we joined her.

Do the jockeys know? Nic queried?

Yeah. They said if we can push the Krek into the Lima-Zulu then theyll
clean them up on the way in.

Nic looked up to the top storey to see if it was a better way of bringing fire
down on the Krak, but obviously decided against it as he stayed with the rest
of us, ready to move as soon as the VTOL made its final approach.

I couldnt hear the VTOL and the building blocked my view of it, but it was
suddenly on the tacmap. Riley held up 2 fingers as he ducked back in from his
latest blast of fire. He also tapped his mag and gave a thumbs down. He was
close to running out of ammo. We all were. Id handed over everything I had
from Grace when we had moved out to the courtyard.

Cathy nodded and signalled that she and Nic would cross the lane, while Cooper
and Riley stayed on this side. Then together theyd work the fire forward so
the Krek were pushed back, exposing them to the VTOLs miniguns. Cathy did her
ritual countdown, three fingers, two, one. Riley stepped into the lane and
fired a long burst as Nic and Cathy bolted through the gateway behind him,
sprinting across to a fallen wall on the other side, about 20 metres along
from where wed been sitting less than hour before. Riley rolled back in the
gateway, nodded at Cooper and they stepped out into the laneway. Riley
immediately started moving along the wall, while Cooper went down on one knee,
half covered by the alcove by the gateway covering his advance. Nic and Cathy
mirrored this on the other side of the road. After less than half a minute I
heard the buzz of miniguns blazing. And then THUMP. I looked questioningly at
Keoni because I knew we didnt have anything of that calibre left. He rotated
his index finger, before pointing diagonally down at his other hand and miming
an explosion. The VTOL must have fired a missile or large grenade. I could see
the resulting dust cloud billowing up past the top of the wall.

Youre clear for EVAC. Over. Cathy instructed over the headsets.

Copy. Keoni responded. He seemed to effortlessly lift Grace over his shoulder,
apologising for any pain he caused as he did so. Then he grabbed Jeff under
his other arm and loped out the gate and down the lane. I shouldered Ase and
followed him, running as steadily as I could. I was soon breathing hard. As I
reached the corner I could see Riley, Cooper, Nic and Cathy covering the LZ.
My chest was aching and a stitch was stabbing me in the side. Keoni had
already handed off his cargo and was racing back for Chris.

It wasnt the small medically tasked VTOL Id been expecting, its was a modified
form of a slightly larger transport class. The two medics I could see had
rifles slung over their backs. As I reached the VTOL, the closest turned to
me.

Here doc, crew on my bird where scrubs. He pushed a large pair of rubber
gloves in to my hands.

I paused. He looked at me questioningly. Your are the doc right?

Close enough I answered pulling on the gloves. Where do you want me?

Get in and start pumping the red stuff back into the little lady in there. Ill
load up the walking wounded out here.

I nodded and climbed in. The inside would have been relatively spacious if it
wasnt crammed with what seemed like every imaginable mobile medical tool.
Lockers ran the lengths of every wall and covered the ceiling. Stretcher slots
took up most of the floor and there were two seats up front, two jump seats
and one spare berth between packing cases in the rear.

Jeff and Ase were laid out on the floor towards the far wall, buckled tight to
the floor. Grace was on a fresh stretcher, locked into the floor slot nearest
the door. As I parked myself beside her, one of the medics rolled Chris in. He
climbed up and lifted Chris body bad over to the back of the floor space and
expertly tied him down. Then he went back to the door and helped pull Cooper
in. Cooper, stepping carefully, made his way to the back and took up a spare
seat back there.

I noticed the first IV of blood feeding into Grace was about empty so I
switched in a new one.

Next body in the plane was Riley. Then the two medics, one of whom sat up
front with the pilot. Keoni and Cathy then climbed aboard, Cathy remaining by
the door watching intently for any threat. The medic whod stayed in the back
checked we all had headsets or earplugs, apparently the ride could get loud.

He looked out the door and I wondered what had his attention. Then my stomach
went hollow. We didnt have room for Nic. Surely he wasnt going to try and wait
it out by himself!

You secure there Nic? Cathy asked.

Yep, snug as.

I saw his arm give a thumbs up through the open hatch. Nic was going to ride
back to base clipped to the side of the VTOL between the two engine fans.
That's certainly not a position I would have felt comfortable in!

The medic came over to me and motioned that he and I should swap, so he could
monitor Grace for the rest of the trip. The VTOL had begun to rise so I
steadied myself by gripping the ceiling mounts as I worked across to the far
seat.

It was a relatively quick trip back to the hospital, we where there in under
10 minutes. The final stages of landing were fairly measured as Nic had to
jump clear and get out from under the VTOL before they could finalise their
decent.

Once they were down Grace and the rest of the squad were unloaded in under 30
seconds and in the hospital in under 2 minutes. The medics from the VTOL were
amazingly efficient in their handoff, no excess banter, and then they were
gone again.

Grace went straight to surgery, but the rest of the squad had a longer wait.
There were a lot of wounded to be treated, a lot of people who needed help
before them.

I was squatted by Cooper adjusting his sling when a passing doctor backtracked
and asked if I had any medical training.

Im an embed, but Ive been med certified for the last year.

Thatll do. Were short on hands. Cat B wounds are through there. Walk up to the
first person who looks like they know what theyre doing and ask how you can
help. He clapped me on the shoulder and walked off. Turning briefly to call
out. Go outside and hose off first.

* * *

I walked out the main doors and looked about for the shower the doctor had
mentioned. A giant of a man wearing NAC phixer coveralls was tidying some
tools in a driveway leading from a landing area down to the swinging hospital
doors. He stepped past me to grab a crowbar that leant against the wall behind
me.

What yall fixin ta do? he said in a broad Gulf accent. He must be from one of
the American NAC units.

Shower Hose Anything to get rid of this I said waving a hand vaguely down my
front. The doc inside said there was one out here.

Dud he? the mechanic returned with a grin. Orta follow me. I done got sumpn
might could help yall. He stomped up the slope towards some hangars off to the
side of where the VTOLs were landing and leaving in a steady stream. Well
gicherself ahere an hold this here railin.

I climbed up the slope to where he was pointing. A railing bolted into the
side of the arched hangar wall. I walked over and tentatively faced the rail,
holding it with both hands, but looking back over my shoulder. The mechanic
had pulled a hose from a large tanker parked about 15 metres away and was
walking back towards me. About 3 metres from me he stopped, feet splayed apart
anchoring him, and he pushed the valve open.
A solid spray of ice-cold water shot up my back, just about knocking me
off my feet. With a sharp intake of breath, my head swung back forward, away
form the jet.

Turn round!

I gingerly turned, face to the side, and he raised the lowered hose back up,
aimed square at my chest. Despite clinging on desperately I only just managed
to keep my feet.

Lookin ah might better than afore ah reckon. Ah aint be askin about that there
wiggly stuff dough. Looks a might unsettlin duddenit? He stated dubiously as
walked back over, glancing at what had pooled by my feet.

I was freezing and my teeth had started to chatter. I doubted the doctor had
meant for me to get hypothermia.

Th-h-hanks. I stammered turning to head back down to the hospital,
rubbing my arms to get the circulation going again.

Now hold yua potata, yall come ahere. He said inclining his head into the
hangar.

I looked back at the hospital and the flow of people pouring into it, but he
seemed pretty insistent so I relented and followed him in.

Just stand therah. He said pointing to a spot in between two VTOLs that were
being worked on by two groups of filthy looking men. I couldnt imagine how
they could see through the grease smeared visors they were wearing. Arcs of
light from welders and other power tools flared at both corners of my vision.

Suddenly I felt a solid blast of warm air. Looking back round I saw my new
found friend had aimed a tethered fan engine at me. It was missing its cowling
and was mounted in a cradle not on a VTOL, but you had to admire his
inventiveness.

Turn. He called spinning his finger in the air above his head.

I turned slowly air drying and warming back up again.

Done. Now aoff with yall. Go do whatever gureat ma-gic thang datder doc
wants yall for.

Thanks again. I said stepping forward, putting my hand out to shake his hand.

Right nice tawking to yall, but I done reckon shakin mah hand would ruin it
all. He said grinning, eyes twinkling and holding his enormous paw of
a hand up to show how engrained the grime was, his dark sausage-like
fingers poking out of the palm of a glove that was stained black. Now aoff
with yall he nodded shooing me away with a wave of his hand and a smile. I
waved and called out Thanks again as I stepped out of the hangar and jogged
back down the hill. I was hardly scrubbed up, but I was a good deal cleaner
than Id been a few minutes previously.

I re-entered the hospital and made my way through to where the doctor
had said the moderately badly wounded were. There was a lot of blood on the
floor and medical waste overflowed from bins in the aisles. Many of the cots
were also blood stained and there were bandaged bodies sitting and lying
everywhere. The room was full to overflowing.

I approached a slim, dark haired nurse who was tending to a flashburn that had
seared all the exposed skin on the face of a young private lying on a gurney
by the door.

Excuse me?

Yes? she snapped acerbically, giving me the most momentary of glances.

The doc said you needed extra help in here and that I should come in and do
whatever you needed.

Hmmm she sighed. Well start over there, the line against the wall. The spare
scanners are in the trolley you passed on the way in she said pointing an arm
off behind her and waving her hand about, without turning around.

Ahh thanks.

Hmmm she sighed again.

I went back to the trolley and pulled open the top draw. Bandages. Next draw,
washing solutions. Next draw, scanners, thankfully. Two more draws later I
found the extra charge packs. The scanners were pretty efficient, and sat
comfortably in the hand between the first two fingers and thumb; big enough to
read, but not bulky or awkward. I turned and navigated carefully the three
rows of moaning bodies until I reached the wall she had indicated. There were
a few red triage clips about, those were highest priority, but they also
mostly had someone working on them already. So I approached a young woman who
had a yellow clip attached to her chest plate.

I ran the scanner past the spot on her shoulder where her med chip should be.
A partial read. No wonder many of the veterans still tattooed blood groups on
their chest or limbs. Though not too many people tattooed left and right on
their feet like Riley had.

Whats your name?

Rachael

Well Rachael, what happened? I asked as I started to take obs, breathing and
pulse rates.

Mortar strike. At least I think it was. Some kind of Krak detonated explosion.
She explained.

Well she seemed lucid enough. I started checking her for signs of compression
damage. Looking first at her arms, there were a few scraps around the top of
where her gloves had been but not much else. Next her face and neck, left side
and then right side, then the back of the neck; again only cuts and abrasions.
Her ears werent bleeding but she was starting to develop dark bruising around
the eye sockets. Her sinuses had been affected by the explosive pressure
differential, but she was by and large ok. I moved on to her back and then
legs.

Well looks like youre one for the walking wounded. Ill patch up your cuts and
give you some painkillers for the mother of all headaches youre going to
develop, but should be as right as rain in no time. Sorry back to it for you.

Thanks. She beamed swinging up on the gurney obviously keen to be gone. She
swayed a little I noticed, but not so badly that I changed my mind.

Well you havent exactly had a cake walk so if the headache persists, or
you start seeing spots, hearing a ringing or anything-

Come back and see a doctor she parroted with a smile.

Yeah that I finished, smiling back and trying to scowl simultaneously, with
little success.

The next four people I assessed all had a mix of burns and puncture wounds.
One, a corporal from an OU unit, also turned out to have a fractured hand.

Its not that bad doc.

Shake my hand.

Ugh!

Yeah nice try.

But doc they need me.

I understand where youre coming from, but you dont want to be a liability do
you?

Well, no but

Listen lets patch you up and see how it sits huh?

Fair enough.

As it turned out, with a flexi-cast on he had full movement and support
and was actually ok to return to his unit. He hugged me when I said he could
leave.

Youre the best doc!

You new they were seriously injured when they showed no desire to go back.

The next patient was sitting on his gurney, hugging his knees, rocking, tears
rolling down his face. It wasnt his body that was in pain and there wasnt
anything I knew to do that could help him. I clipped him with a fluro pink tag
(breakdown) and moved on. Hopefully theyd find a spot for him on a transport
by morning.

The next gurney held what seemed an incongruously small body for a trooper.
The armour half abandoned, half on looked like a turtle shell that she could
contract back into. She was slim and curled on her side.

Gently laying a hand on her back I crouched by her head and asked her name and
what had happened. She winced as she craned her neck forward a little to see
my face.

Sue. Sue Yeon Hae. Krak flash bang I think.. Loud, bright hurts like hell. She
was breathing pretty hard for someone lying still.

Ok well lets have a look see.

She looked very pale, which wasnt a good sign. The exposed skin of her face,
which would have sat outside her mask and helmet, and her arms and legs were
peppered with small gashes so shed obviously been close to whatever blast shed
been caught in. Her right thigh was heavily bandaged; itd been treated on site
she said. I opened the bandages up and cleaned the wound out. It was about 7cm
long, but fairly clean, not jagged. I couldnt see any bone shards, but I
scanned it for good measure. There was only tissue damage, the femur was
intact so I packed
it with cell-base and put a gel-skin patch across it. It was likely to
scar, I was hardly a dab hand at this, but it would only take a week or two to
heal over. On the face of it she seemed fairly lightly cut up for someone
clearly in pain and breathing that rapidly. Looking at the scanner her
oxygenation was critically low.

Im going to have to check your torso I said. The rest of the plate has to come
off.

She groaned, but we managed to get it off fairly easily. There was a lot of
bruising to her chest and one of her ribs was cracked, but there were no
puncture wounds. I stepped around to the other side of the gurney to check her
back. Her undershirt was red and brown with blood. She had a 2cm hole punched
into her back under her left shoulder blade. I put my hand over the hole,
there was no suction, I could only feel warm blood on my palm. I stuck my
index finger into the hole, still no suck as she breathed. I placed my ear
against her back. There was no rattle, no wheeze, no sounds of breathing at
all really. I pulled out the scanner and ran it over her abdomen, even with
its enhanced audio her breathing still sounded weak. I switched to an internal
image and it was clear why she was finding it so hard to breath. Her lungs
were squashed. When shed been hit the blood had filled her pleural cavity
rather than gushing out graphically. Now her lungs had run out of space to
expand, she needed her chest drained quickly.

While Id practiced chest drains in training I was hardly comfortable with the
idea of performing chest surgery. I looked around for some help. The nurse
with the stunning bedside manner was finishing up with a patient a row across.

Excuse me I called.

She didnt seem to hear and started to walk away, pulling off her bloodied
gloves.

HEY! Excuse me!

Yes? What? she parried spinning on her heel to face me.

Sue needs a chest drain urgently.

Sue? she asked pulling her gloves on and stalking back to me.

I pointed down at the crumpled body in front of me.

Are you certain?

Check for yourself, I leant my hand over so she could also see the screen.

Hmmm. Well theres no doctors free.

I can do it. Practiced back in training. Just need the kit.

Practiced it in training hey?

Shes in a bad way, have you got any alternatives?

Ill get everything. She said moving off, a supremely efficient professional
comfortable amidst the chaos. My heart was pounding again. I had actually done
this a fair bit in training and once since during an attack on the plains, but
the butterflies were still doing loops in my gut. I tightened in my focus by
tending the hole in her back, sealing it up.

The nurse was soon back and laid a squirt bottle of surgical scrub, a new
scalpel and tubing, which she lay on a fresh towel on the bed.

Good to go? I asked looking up as I finished cleaning around the patch on Sues
back.

Yes, lets proceed. She no longer looked livid, just serious.

I asked Sue to sit up against her armour, which I put at the head of the bed
against the wall, with her arm above her head. I counted five ribs
down, double-checked with the scanner, and then ran along until I
reached the golden triangle as my instructor had called it. First I wiped the
area with the surgical scrub and then inserted a vial of anaesthetic through
the skin of her chest down into the muscle underneath. After a minute I
flicked the spot and asked her if she felt anything.

No.

I pushed in firmly.

No.

Right, Im going to start then. Try and sit as still as possible. Ok?

Sue nodded in response and turned her face away. I made an incision and then
pushed in through the underlying tissue. I slipped my finger inside first to
make sure we werent going to puncture any organs when I slid the tube in. With
my other hand I took the tube form the nurse and as soon as my finger was
clear I fed the tube into the incision. Blood immediately began to run down
the tube into a valved bottle sitting on the floor. It didnt take us long to
clamp the tube in place and secure it.

Thanks. Sue said already looking more relaxed with colour returning to her
face.

Our pleasure I said giving her a nod of the head and quick smile. Cleaning
away the scalpel and other materials from her bed.

Ill finish here, you keep on. The nurse said, looking somewhat less chilly.
Nice job. She finished quietly as I moved to the next bed, where
a middle-aged sergeant had a large sliver of rock sticking out of his
forearm.

Now Sarge, what happened here? I asked.

Ahh ya know, grenade, follow up, shoot like mad fools, bang and next thing ya
know I have a part of the scenry imbedded in me arhum.

Ah-huh I said slowly turning the arm this way and that as I looked it
over. Looking up he caught my eye. I was thinking of pullin ya chain lad,
watching you sweet walk your way up the line all arvtonoon. But after what you
jus did for that sweet young ting. Itll be no nonsense from me maaan. You
might start hacking in to me! he declared with mock sincerity.

I smiled and pulled out my scanner.

No chance, Sarge... A scalpel isnt going to cut it, I reckon I need a pair of
pliers and a plasma torch

* * *

About eight frantic hours after Id come in with Grace a nurse came across to
me and said thatd Id helped enough and that I could go. My eyes felt like they
were hanging from their sockets and my body ached, particularly the soles of
my feet. A sense of relief washed over me and with it came a tsunami of
fatigue.

I went to protest, but the words died in my throat as my shaking hands dropped
the pan of instruments I was holding. I was more a liability than a help now.
I nodded and left.

As I crossed the camp I felt the adrenaline fade away and my arms and legs
felt as if they were made of lead. My attention lagged and it felt as if I was
thinking through a fluffy fog, my thoughts continuously drifted off to
nothing. My eyes were gritty and my right eyelid fluttered as if it had a mind
of its own. I caught myself starring unblinking into space, eyes focused on
the far distance, shuffling like
a zombie back to where Id been told the 2/34 had pitched camp.

Winds had blown a brief break in the clouds of dust, but the stars were only
just winking into existence as darkness crept across the landscape. The last
of the light hadnt ebbed completely form the sky yet and there was still
enough to see by. I wove my way through the troops. They looked shattered.
Many were asleep wherever they had taken a seat, on rocks, in shallow
depressions in the sandy ground. A few were holding murmured conversations,
but all were thoroughly exhausted. Even those making jokes look drained.
Finally I saw Rurik, leaning against his vehicle, his head resting forward on
his chest, which was rising and falling gently.

As I reached him it was as if some switch had been thrown, suddenly I couldnt
go a step further. I had intended to look around for the others, find out if
they knew Grace hadnt made it, but all my energy was gone. I sunk to the
ground beside him and was instantly asleep. It had been a long day.

***

The outposts were secured in just under 8 hours of fierce fighting. The Krak
were ferocious, but ultimately too few in number to resist the OU forces
indefinitely. They were terrifying in their tenacity, but thankfully Iron
Georges plan worked brilliantly. With their controllers gone, it was a matter
of stirring them into a frenzy and luring them from their defensive positions.
Not an easy task, but not an impossible one either and the last of the Krak
were overwhelmed at around 15:00 local time.

Going through the outposts, a great deal of ammunition and explosives were
recovered, but there was little in the way of any other recognisable
commodity. Although theories abound as to what the various pastes and fluids
found in the main quarters were used for by the Krak. From weaponry lubricants
to nutritional supplements, skin care, purgatives and procreative aids.

Its pretty clear that this operation had bought us a small amount of time and
distance. You could see our previous positions up on the crater rim from our
new digs in the grounds of the outpost. Although it would have been almost
impossible to assault down directly on to our new position, due to the large
minefields through the area and the artillery that was stationed within the
Krak positions. With the outposts now in our control we could replace the
silenced Krak artillery with our own field guns and mortar tubes and turn them
south onto our new targets.

Engineers had also laboured through to the early hours, non-stop since
the last of the outpost fell, to clear the mines and mark safe pathways down
into the crater. Small flags, mounted on the top of electronic markers,
delineated the edge of the safe passages. The small flags
fluttered colourfully in the thin Martian air, backed-up by the pingers,
which could be detected even when visibility dropped to zero.

Claiming these outposts was a first serious foothold in Severns and while it
was unlikely to have done much damage to the Krak fighting force in the main
part of the city it had been a huge morale boost for us. The Krak were hemmed
in now, we had the freedom to roam Tokalau again.

textfilter: chose text/plain from a multipart/alternative

Beth Cracking good stuff as always!

Los