[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
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

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.