[GZG Fiction] Stepping Up

The next couple of days were fairly mundane in comparison to the solid
action of the weeks before. The 2/34 held its breath as it waited for
the fall out of its colossal effort. No section was untouched and as a
whole the 2/34 had taken over 60 percent causalties. The 500 strong
force was never going to be the hammer that smote the Krak from Mars, but they
had played their role well and the allied human forces were now firmly within
the bounds of the last Krak strong hold on Mars.

The squad I had been riding with for many months now was in a bad way though.
It had been pretty badly cut up in the final assault on what had turned out to
be the Kraks northern command HQ. It had only be a small command group by Krak
standards, but it had been a lot larger than anticipated by our spooks. Krak
outposts typically had a dispersed network of nodal commands, each with their
own purple priestling to keep them from going feral and eating each other or
whatever they did when those blood rages took them. Initially hearing how they
would tear out of cover like some rampaging behemoth, ignoring wounds and
slaying all in their path had made them sound like terrible monsters. Now it
seemed like their biggest weakness. Kill their priests, their controllers, and
they were rabid animals you could pick off with care and fewer casualties than
the earlier massacres had suggested. Their tactics, strategies and even their
reason for doggedly attacking human space were still beyond my comprehension,
but they were no longer the stuff of childhood nightmares. Dont misunderstand
me, the Krak are still ferocious fighters that are a scary sight to behold on
the battlefield, but their ability to inspire almost irrational fear in me is
gone.

I had certainly been afraid during the assault on the outpost. My heart had
pounded until it was fit to burst when I picked up Graces rifle. If Id known
at the time that we were neutralising the main command post of that entire
section of the Krak front line defences I think my bodily functions would have
done something highly inappropriate. Nevertheless, training, determination and
the courageous skill of the OU squad I was with had seen us through. It had
been at a terrible cost form my perspective though. Four of the nine were dead
and two more were out of action for at least a month.

While it is typical to leave grieving until the fighting is done, such a
monumental toll was a truly ghastly blow and Iron George chose to acknowledge
it immediately rather than let the emotional ripples potentially cripple what
remained of his fighting force. Accordingly he drew us together on a stretch
of clear ground between our new camp and the rock of the crater wall the
morning after the attack on the Krak outposts. He climbed on the nose of one
of the transports and stood effectively in silhouette against the butterscotch
sky, the pale sun behind him.

After a moments pause he looked down to a flexisheet in his hand and began to
read, his forceful voice coming through the ear buds, but also carrying
directly. across the eerily still morning.

It was a rough and tough country. At halts it was useless trying to sit on the
ground, which meant that everything from smokos to eating was usually carried
out at the stand. The enemy were exceedingly nasty customers, each had a range
of weapons which chilled the blood. They lurked in the enveloping darkness,
stalking with great stealth and patience. He raised his head, again, before
continuing.

Private Tom Gunning was the first to admit that he had no understanding of the
world or the foes he would find when he stepped off the troop ship. What he
did have was a deep sense of doing what was right and the paramount importance
of helping a mate. Each of you has your own reasons from signing on, but I
know every one of you does what you do because you would not let your mates
down. When you pulled on the slouch hat you joined a tradition that stretches
back over 300 years to Private Gunnings decision to serve in the Sudan.

They were no more immune to death then than we are now. The ground we stand on
now is not awfully different to that which holds the dead from that war or the
body of Trooper Victor Jones. Jones was remembered by his mates and his
family, even a hundred years after his death, not because he was the first
Australian to fall in the Boer War, but because he was a friendly bloke who
always did right by his mates. In this hour it is our turn to fall, but also
our turn to honour our mates and make sure that when they fell for us they did
not fall for nought. While Krak still walk in human lands there is no time for
tears. However intractable the situation may seem, we cannot resign ourselves
to failure. It will not be easy, but we cannot imagine we will fail. We must
reach for the light on the hill. We must reach past our limitations and
continue, not only for our fallen, or for our mates still around us, but for
their families and for all humanity.

I played Baxters speech back four times that day and two the next morning
trying to capture the scintillation of it. How it riveted the attention and
fired the spirit. The recording was but a pale spectre of the moment and each
set of words I tried seemed still paler phantom. In the end I gave up and
moved back to more banal routines.

It couldnt be too long before wed be on the move so I decided to finally strip
and have a really good look at the armour plates for my back. The transport
was the safest place for that. I didnt want to be caught half shell if the
Krak started dropping missiles or mortars on us.

The transport wasnt exactly roomy, but it was big enough to act as the squads
home. I climbed up to find Nic stretched out on the benches down one side,
snoring, some trashy holo novel looping inanely in the tube projector still
resting in his slack hand.

I sat down on the opposite bench and deactivated the clasps up the sides
of the plates. Once they had relaxed I pulled the now quasi-rubbery
pullover up over my head. The transport was warm compared to the brutal
Martian chill outside and I knew I was fairly safe inside the armoured belly
of the transport. I still felt strangely exposed though, Id been living inside
these same clothes for weeks. Wed managed the odd shower and swap out of our
thermals, but we hadnt done real laundry in months. I only travelled with two
sets, any more and I wouldnt have room in my meagre kit allowance for my
cameras and other gear. So changing clothes had boiled down to just swapping
the top or leggings for the other slightly less dirty set. Both sets were now
pretty filthy and I was looking forward to having a real bath. Getting really
clean, not just wiped down.

I held the pullover forward over my knees looking at the grooves, cracks and
imperfections. Id been pretty close to taking a serious hit. That thought was
a little unsettling, but nowhere near as grating as hearing the holo novel
reset its music loop again. I got up, stepped over to Nic and hit the kill
button on the side of the projector plate. Nic stirred, snuffled, but settled
back to a snore.

I sat back down and started digging in my duffel for my tub of PAP. I thought
I might even have to go on a scrounge for some extra, though I guessed it
would be in pretty high demand about now.

Suddenly the back hatch started to cycle. I grabbed a deep breath and held it,
but kept at what I was doing, looking up only as the hatch split open. Cathy
climbed in, surrounded by a dancing swirl of fine dust, which got in
everywhere, and a stiff blast of frigid air.

Geesh. The cold had sucked my breath form me, sitting there topless by Martian
standards.

As the hatch cycled close behind her, Cathy chuckled, Didnt know you were shy
Jock. She said taking a berth beside me and pulling her duffle out to sit
between her feet.

Not shy, just still a tropical beach bum at heart.

I would have thought youd have had enough sand.

Ahh but not the sun, surf and cocktails. I responded with a smile.

We both fell into silence, working over our kit.

I heard a quiet beep and looked to Cathy to see what was up. She was nodding
as someone spoke to her through the bud in her ear.

Copy. Over. She started dropping her things back in her duffel. The Colonel
wants to see us ASAP. She stood and stepped across the small space to poke Nic
in the ribs. Up you get sleeping beauty.

I only wake for a kiss.

Then youll be fighting in your pjs.

You could send in Rurik. I offered with a grin.

Oh no Im awake! Nic said shooting straight up, hands up in surrender luckily
as they meant he caught himself just in time to avoid banging his head on the
roof of the transport. He gave one long stretch and immediately reached for
his rifle. Where to?

Iron George. Cathy responded, tucking extra clips for her rifle into a pouch
in the small of her back.

Nic grabbed extra ammunition too, while I finished seating my upper body
armour and hit the clasp seals down either side. Cathy was first out, dropping
down and going around to the front of the vehicle to collect Rurik.

Nic and I didnt have to wait long, before we all headed off together

Vhat you zink ve gayt?

I shrugged. I knew wed get mixed in with other teams. Every squad had spots to
fill. I wasnt even officially a member of the team, just an embed along for
the ride. Heaven only knew what that meant, whether theyd keep me with Cathy
or Rurik or sit me in some other squad altogether. If truth be told, my worst
fear was that they would send me somewhere else. I had never spent so long
with one group before. As a
non-aligned freelance Id typically bounced slot to slot without too much
concern. This time was different however, it was my longest single
assignment and Id grown comfortable with my fit in the 2/34. I knew I
wasnt really one of them, but I felt like I was, even if they only kept around
for a laugh. I really didnt want to go anywhere else. I didnt want to dwell on
that potentiality so I buried the thought and followed Nic and Cathy quietly
through camp. Rurik must have sensed my mood, as he remained silent too.

Russ Wilcox intercepted us just as we reached the complex of tents that made
up Iron Georges HQ. I noticed he now had Captains pips.

Sorry hes been caught up on jibbers by the brass. Ive got your assignments
here Russ said, holding up a flexisheet, ghostly lines of writing dancing
across it. All except you Jock, he wants to see you in person. You can grab a
seat in there he said indicating the nearest tent.

I nodded to the group and gave a quiet Be seein ya then before unfastening the
tent flap and slipping inside. It was still and dim inside, with deactivated
map boards lining three walls. A couple of chairs sat by a table in the far
corner. A thin coating of rust coloured dust covered everything. I looked
around for a few minutes and then went over and pulled out a seat. I didnt
have much to occupy me so I started charging my batteries and fiddling with my
camera gear.

The tent flap unzipped. It wasnt the Colonels shaved head that greeted me
though, but Cathys.

You got a sec? she asked quickly glancing about to make sure I was free or
alone.

I think so

Come out here a sec.

I stepped back outside, pulling the flap closed behind me.

I thought you might like to know they were pretty impressed with the effort
the other day. We all got a mention in the logs.

Well you deserved it, bloody hell that was tough.

You included dunderhead.

Oh!

Da, oh! Rurik rumbled grinning.

Actually, I wanted to say goodbye. They're sending me back to San Juan. Theyve
got a platoon of newbs they need whipped into shape.

Thats our Cathy, the cherry picker. Nic commented quietly, smiling.

And you? I looked to Nic.

Got my own section. Full corporal now. He said rolling his shoulder forward so
I could see the extra stripe.

Nice going.

I turned to Keoni.

Heavy weapons. Im da man! he said with an easy grin and nodding head.

Lastly I caught Ruriks eye. He seem to grow, his chest puffing out.

Polkvnik driverah!

My confusion must have shown as Nic chuckled and explained Hell be
chauffeuring the Colonel about.

Wow! Nice. I was genuinely glad for them all, but it increased my trepidation
concerning my own position. There was no clear spot for me. Best be getting
back I guess. I said lamely, throwing a brief glance at the tent. Strangely
for me I was at a loss for words. This seemed difficult, awkward.

Keep you head down, hey? Nic said leaning over to clap me on the shoulder.

You too. I said as Cathy gave me a quick, companionable squeeze. Keoni head
butted me and Rurik folded me into a bear hug.

Pa-ka ZajchOnok

Did you just call me a little bunny? I asked incredulously.

Nyet. Da. Maybe. It is harreh not boonny. You trranslator get good, pity you
not never know any culchah! He said slapping me hard on the back. I could only
smile, shaking my head and giving them a small wave as they moved off and I
returned to the tent.

It was quite some time before the Colonel was ready to see me, but it gave me
time to have all my kit sorted and squared away again.

When I was finally shown into his make shift office he stood up from behind
the desk to shake my hand, before indicating I should take a seat.

First off I wanted to say you did a good job the other day. In fact the whole
time youve been here.

Thank you.

I know you embed types usually bounce around more than whores in a hot
blanket, so Ive got a new position for you. With the 3/7.

Sir?!

He scratched a brow and then fixed me with a firm look.

Ive been watching you Jock. Youve made a place for yourself here. Earned some
real respect. So right now you must be feeling disappointed that Ive decided
you should move on.

Yes. Isnt there- Actually I was gutted.

Let me explain son. I knew youd seen combat before you got here. That youd
acquitted yourself well. I never would have let you within a bulls roar
otherwise. Were on the final run home now Jock. Im not saying the Krak will be
a walk over, but now were big news. Every corporate baron worth his salt is
trying to get his polished teeth glamour anchors in
with us now. Not just with the 2/34, but all over. None of them have an
ounce of the experience you have. The 3/7 is going to be at the pointy
end of a lot of whats coming. Getting in ahead and loosening things up for the
rest of us. Theyre unit history is effectively unbroken for 155 years. They do
a lot of classified ops so its not always widely known, but its there for
those who need to know. They lost their unit reporter last week. So there is a
slot up for grabs.

But Ive never done basic. Well embed basic but not full on military stuff.

Jock do you think it gets more full on than what youve seen with us? If you
had been enlisted youd have a chest full of gongs now, plus a couple of unit
citations. Oh you do the odd stupid thing still, but you do combat zombie
stupid not oh Ive got a hangnail, whats my hair look like? stupid. And before
you look all horrified and ask if you were ever like that. You werent. I
wouldnt have let you off the bird that first day otherwise. Theres a few
others with as much time in country as you Jock, some even as fit as you. None
of the others are as damn lucky as you. Id take it as a personal favour if
youd take the position. Their Colonel was a Duntroon classmate of mine. Old
friend, bit rough around the edges, but solid. Ive recommended you to him and
he agrees you fit the bill. If you want it, its yours.

Ah I dont know what to say.

How about Yes sir. Thank you sir!? he said with a grin.

Yes sir, thank you sir. I said rising as he did. He offered me his hand. I
shook it and turned to leave.

The 3/7 is down on the coast. Theres a supply convoy heading down there
in an hour. I said you meet them by the Q-depot.

Thanks.

My time with the 2/34 was really done, but I had a new adventure ahead
of me.