CHAPTER ONE

Awakening

William Grace awoke to a world of agony and ice.

He drew in a deep breath and coughed in a hacking fit as the air seared at his lungs. Pain echoed throughout his body from his knees and back. He blinked the snow out from his eyes and wiped away the grit and tears. He shivered uncontrollably.

The wind swept granules of snow across the landscape. Broken rock was mixed with sheets of steel, alloy, and smoking wreckage. Small drifts began to form in the wind eddies before, and after, the large pieces of wreckage. An occasional gunshot broke the sound of the frigid wind. Around him was nothing but the gray and the bleak.

He stared into the sky. It was white with gray clouds crawling low. A tendril of black smoke crossed over him before sliding away in the wind. He sat up slowly and looked himself over. His pants were torn, his knees a mangled mess of burnt skin and meat. He could sense bruising and tightness through his chest. His whole body felt a tender ache.

I must be in shock, he thought a moment after. The wind blasted into him as he stood slowly. He fell forward and screamed in pain as the frozen rock gashed against his raw knees. The bitter wind pushed at his back as he caught his breath.

What the hell happened?

William stood once again, slowly, and looked around. The wreckage field was strewn as far as he could see. The featureless landscape was now only broken by large snow drifts and debris. He staggered slowly forward and leaned against a piece of hull. The edges were rough, bent and gouged. He pulled his hand back as if burnt, the cold had seared his palm. He hissed and looked at the chilled flesh. He needed more clothing, he was going to freeze to death.

He should have felt more, he should have felt scared, or angry, but all he felt was alone. Alone and cold.

A gunshot danced along the crisp wind. William turned and scanned around. He saw no one. He stumbled towards the noise and set his head down against the wind.

He came upon the first mangled body a few meters later. The legs were missing yet everything else looked like the man was asleep. William looked around and saw no one. He reached down and touched the body, it was cold like frozen steel. This should have bothered him, he knew it would have a day ago, but not today. He sat slowly next to it and began to strip off the jacket. The man was in full drop gear.

The corpse wore a heavy jacket with webbing strapped over it. His helmet was cracked but a thick liner was inside. William took both and left the webbing. He saw a handgun strapped to the mans chest and took it out. He tucked it into a pocket and put the jacket on. It was cold. He looked around and shivered a bit less.

He began to walk away and stopped. The edge of a red and black case poked out from beneath the corpse. He rushed back and ripped it free. Nanite patches. He smiled and wiped his nose. He sat again and smiled at the corpse. The box contained combat nanites, each patch good for a few hours. Stimulants, pain suppressors, antibiotics, antivirals, clotting agents, and reconstructive bots. He fumbled to remove the lid and grasped a patch with his frozen claw like hand. He couldn’t get it open.

William paused and took a breath. He gripped the liner with his teeth and pulled with his good hand. The lining shimmered as it was activated by the oxygen. He smoothed it on the side of his neck and felt the initial sting. The burn softly slid into a dull itch. The pain in his knees subsided and he felt himself relax. A wave of darkness slid near his vision before allowing the light to settle back in.

He looked over at the man and back to the box on his lap. Clark. His name was printed on the container. The man would have gone instantly unconscious when his legs were ripped off. The nanites would generate a coma like state when trauma reached a certain massive level. William wondered how long Clark had lived for. He watched the snow fall on the corpse before another gunshot snapped him out of his trance.

William would have laid in a nanite coma except Naval personnel didn’t get patches for drops. He was supposed to be above, cozy, warm, sipping a cup of coffee, and preparing to get back with the fleet. It would just be one more event to add to his log for his exam. He didn’t even know what happened, they came in low after the blink and poof. He was on the ground. Cold. In shock. Alone.

He shielded his eyes and looked around. He saw another man lying next to a piece of wreckage. His arms were at odd angles across his chest and deep burns blackened his face. William saw the bone and cartilage poking out from the char. He turned away. He looked back and saw the chest rise slowly and go back down. Good god, he thought, the man is alive.

William shambled closer and lowered himself down. He could pull the patch off, or he could leave the man to his chemical coma. He looked around to the bleak landscape and saw no one. His medical training was brief. He watched the man and decided to let him sleep, he was too far gone to walk or awaken in anything but agony.

He patted the unconscious man’s webbing and opened small pockets until he found a silver and black mylar sheet. It crackled as he unfolded it into the wind and laid it on the man. I’ll not let him freeze to death, he thought. With the edges tucked he stood again. Another gunshot echoed. Was that ammo cooking off? He stumbled towards a small rock strewn hill.

On the other side lay a partially crumbled dropcap. The inertial stabilizers and cargo pods were bent and mangled while one entire side was crushed like an egg. Bodies were scattered around the outside of the capsule with some heaped on the inside. A bitter black smoke leaked from a side hatch. A single man stood near the edge of the crushed capsule with a black handgun at his side.

William felt his heart rise and was about to call out when the man raised the handgun and shot a soldier in front of him. The uniform of the man was Naval. No nanite patch. He was surrounded by ground troops who were all unconscious from the shock trauma. William fumbled for the pistol and walked forward.

Around him were bodies, some mangled and destroyed, others serene and bruised except for a bullet wound to the head. Some were untouched a bit further away. Survivors. Survivors! The man stumbled forward and looked around. He wore the uniform of a Naval Surgeon. William checked his handgun and seated the caseless clip.

“Sir! What are you doing sir?” William called out through clenched teeth.

The man turned slowly. His face was pale, gaunt, stretched and his eyes were blank. The tip of his nose was ashen white with a tinge of black. The man blinked rapidly and swung his handgun in a wide arc.

“We’ve no supplies,” The man said in a hoarse voice which cracked.

“Sir, put your weapon down,” William knew he had to stop this. The surgeon was in shock, hypothermic and most likely near death. He tightened his shaky grip on the weapon and walked closer.

The man shook his head wildly and screamed like an animal. His fists were balled and his knees quaked. The wind took the rage and slid it off and away.

“Damn you! Damn you!” The surgeon called at nothing, and everything. His eyes were wild and he kept favoring one side. He turned and pointed the weapon at a blond woman in full combat gear who lay tucked next to the capsule. One side of her face was bruised and raw like a smashed melon.

William stood 10 meters away and raised the handgun. The alloy was crisp, and frigid. His fingers began to freeze as he pointed it at the man. “Drop it Sir, drop your weapon. We can help these people.”

“We can’t even help ourselves!” The surgeon called out through clenched teeth. The handgun shook wildly and erratically. The Surgeon fired at the woman and missed. The bullet smacked into a rock with a crack.

“I’ll shoot! Drop it dammit!” William yelled through the gritty snow. He’d never shot a man before. He knew he had to, but the man was a surgeon, he needed him alive.

“Sir, set the weapon down. You’re in shock. Just lay it down.” William spoke slowly through shivering lips. His fingers ached from the cold. The trigger burned and his joints ached.

The Surgeon turned his head and locked eyes with him. William knew that he’d have to shoot the man. The Surgeon spun his arm around slowly with the weapon extended and pointed it at William.

William shot. The pistol mechanically cycled a fresh round. A tiny puff of smoke rolled out of the action. The Surgeon slid down slowly onto the ground with blood rolling out from a wound just below his chest.

The Surgeon looked at the wound in his chest and back to William. He took his pistol, put it into his mouth, and fired.

“No!” William screamed. The red mist drifted into the snow behind the Surgeon. William stuffed the pistol back into his pocket and blew warm air onto his hands. He walked over to the corpse of the doctor and kicked him squarely in the guts. “Fuck!” He shouted angrily.

“Hey,” A dim voice called out through the wind.

William spun around and shielded his eyes from the wind. He was sure he heard someone. He stumbled and caught his balance before he fell. He looked up again and saw a man walking towards him in full combat gear.

The man wore a heavy gray coat, goggles, and a gray face mask with holes punched in it. The holes were surrounded by a fuzz of frost. A stub carbine was anchored to the webbing in the center of his chest. As he approached he raised a gloved hand and slid the goggles up. Bright blue eyes peered at William.

“I’m not alone,” William said simply. He looked to his side and sat down slowly.

“That’s how it looks,” the man replied. “I’m Sergeant Crow. Have some trouble?”

William nodded and tucked his hands under his arms. “Midshipman Grace. Ships Surgeon lost it.”

Crow nodded and walked over to a corpse with a bullet hole in the cheek. He slid the heavy mittens off the man and tossed them to William.

“Thank you,” he said as he tucked his frozen fingers into the fleece lined mittens. His fingers warmed slowly.

“Orders Sir?” Crow asked in a questioning tone.

The moment began to set in. William was no longer “Midshipman Grace” studying for his exam and preparing for his next fleet posting. He was now in command, even if it was just two of them. Suddenly he realized that a whole lot of lives depended on what he did, and right now. There were people alive, maybe a lot, and if he didn’t do something they would die. They might die even if he did.

“Crow, are you hurt?” William stood slowly and began to walk towards the crumpled dropcap. He eyed up the debris looking for logistics canisters.

“Bruised up sir.”

“We need shelter, anything.”

Crow began to walk towards the smoldering capsule. “Give me a hand, we need to pop this open.

William hurried to Crows side and the pair pried open clasps of the canister. It was designed to release upon landing but this one stuck until the contents emptied it. It dropped with clang when the springs let loose. In front of them were boxes, bins, bags, and every manner of gear possibly needed along with a sea of small white balls used as cushion.

“There we go,” Crow said as he leaned forward and tugged on a large brown case. It was marked ‘Shelter-Inflatable-10 man’ in orange letters. A patterned circular ID code was centered below it. The pair pulled it out of the pile and heaved it away from the dropcap.

William released his grip once he realized he wasn’t doing any good. Crow tugged it out.

“Pop the side, drive the first anchor in. Pull the green tab, wait for it to inflate then drive the next anchor. Do that till you get around it all and pull the final tab, that will inflate the top.” Crow dropped the case on a patch of clear ground.

“Sergeant, we’ve got people alive. About 100 meters back I left a man in a thermal blanket. We’ll start dragging them here.” He pointed behind the small hill to where he had found the man. William turned back to the case.

Crow nodded and began to walk briskly.

“Crow.”

“Sir?” Crow stopped and turned.

William wanted to say some something, anything, to bond with him. He just nodded instead.

Crow locked his blue eyes on William and nodded. He dropped the goggles down and walked forward.

William pounded the slender stakes into the frozen dirt and gravel in slow methodical thumps. He managed one or two strikes before he had to take a break. Each strike drove the rod an inch into the frost. The frozen dirt fought every single bit.

The men worked in silence. William pounded, tore, clawed, and fought to get the shelter set. Crow slid men and women near to where the door of the tent would be. Each worked as quick as they could. William looked over to the growing line of unconscious survivors covered under the blankets. He knew he had to work fast.

A light hand startled William. He turned and fell painfully onto his back. A man in full white body armor with a large gray backpack stood above him. His face was obscured by a neoprene mask. The man held out his hand to William.

“Who are you?” William asked, thinking of nothing better to say.

A soft voice replied, “I’m Sebastien, let me take over.” Sebastien gripped his hand and pulled him to his feet.

William nodded. “I’m Grace.” He walked slowly, painfully, over to the mylar covered wounded. The clanging of the stakes grew loud and steady. More men had died while he worked. He simply pulled the mylar over them. He sat at the end of the line. The fatigue, and the nanites, were catching up with him.

Sebastien smashed the hammer into the stakes. Three strikes. He focused on the task and ignored the diagnostics bubbling up near his retina. Nothing critical was going to fail. Nothing essential was knocked out. He paused a moment and restarted his right arm. The nano-augmented systems shifted and adapted.

A part of him wished he had just walked away south. He’d seen the young man shoot the other man. The chilled wind touched his skin but the heat from the reactor within would keep him alive. The man dropped and shot himself in the head. He played it over again, why should he care? He could just go south.

The next stake took two strikes and jammed into a hard spot. He pried it out and shifted it a few centimeters. Three strikes. He pulled the tab. It hissed and popped and grew into a shape like a flexible log.

He stopped and rotated his arm feeling the bent connective assembly. He’d opened his eyes in a capsule that was collapsed upon itself. The seams had split and his fellow Marines were dead. He didn’t spend much time dwelling on it.

The young Midshipman had collapsed next to the row of corpses. The wind had already began to deposit grit and hard snow next to his body.

Sebastien stood slowly and walked over with a slight limp. The young man had a tint of frostbite that was spreading on his cheeks. He grabbed the small form and drug him down the line. He laid him roughly next to a man with only a ragged wound for a face.

Why hadn’t he left? He sighed and felt sad, lost, detached. They were so different now. Or was he the different one? The wind had grew stronger and was whipping the snow.

He could leave now, walk south, get away. Then what? Die somewhere for no purpose? He flexed his fingers, some machine lubricated with nanite while others were bone grafted with alloy. He’d felt lost for too long.

He turned to the tent and launched himself at it with a fury. The final stakes took two strikes and were almost too far into the ground. The remaining beams inflated into place. The shell wasn’t fully grown when he began to drag pairs through the overlapping doors and into the dim space. The ceiling bands had just barely began to toss any light.

“Sir,” a voice said behind him. An Army Sergeant stood at an odd angle with a man dragging behind him. Had he blacked out? He hadn’t heard the Sergeant enter.

“Sergeant,” Sebastien replied and helped him drag the new survivor across the floor.

“Orders?”

Sebastien snorted. “Ask Grace once he wakes.”

Crow looked thoughtful for a moment. His eyes danced over the Warrant Officer rank patch. “Warrant or not, you’ve got rank over a Midshipman.”

Sebastien shook his head and walked towards the door. “I’m not a Command Officer Sergeant. Now come with me, I’ve got an idea.”

The pair fought through the drifts and came to the closest dropcap. One side was pristine while the other was dimpled as it had rolled to a stop. Sebastien hopped up onto the edge and pried away a cover.

“We’re going to launch some counter measures,” Sebastien yelled over the wind. He hopped down from the side and pried an electrical cabinet open. A yellow lever clearly marked ‘Caution’ was along the bottom edge. “Watch your eyes.” He jerked the lever.

A steady stream of green tracers rose high into the clouds before drifting down a few hundred meters away. Each launch was followed by the next a moment later with a raging hiss. The pair watched for a moment and tromped back towards the shelter a few hundred meters away.

A man waved in the distance and stumbled towards them.

William snapped awake, a mylar blanket was pulled up to his chin and he lay on a plastic sheet. The inside of the shelter was barely lit. The wind snapped and howled at the rigid inflatable structure. He simply listened to the angry wind raging outside. Voices echoed from outside and he heard more clanging of stakes.

The dim light penetrated enough to show a line of a dozen men and women laid next to him. A man was leaned over further down the line tying a wound dressing on. The wind slapped and shook the entire shelter.

William looked down the row and tried to see each face. Some were soft, still, chilled looking while others spasmed and twitched. Bruises, dressings, cuts, and raw skin peered back. He raised his voice and called out, “Hey, corpsman.”

The man looked over at him and nodded before returning to the dressing in front of him. He walked over to William and squatted on his haunches.

“How are you feeling?”

“Not as bad as I could, what’s the toll?”

The man snorted and sat back. His eyes were dark and deep set, bruising blotted across his neck like a paint smudge. Two collars sprouted around his neck, he was wearing two jackets.

“Well, seeing as two thousand people were just scattered from LEO, not too bad,” he responded sourly. He sighed and rubbed his hands together in front of him.

“Who’s in charge?” William asked.

The man looked up at William with raised eyebrows. “You.”

William nodded. “Well then, where’s everyone else?” He stood slowly and tenderly. His wounds were dressed and he felt stiff.

“We’ve got another tent setup, so far there’s about forty survivors. Most though”-he waved an arm down the line of wounded-”aren’t doing that well.”

The pair walked out of the dim tent and into the crisp wind. William had to grasp onto the shoulder of the man for help. Around him were two more tents identical to the first. Small drifts built up like loaves of dough around the tents. Boxes and crates were scattered nearby. A group of men struggled to hammer in the last set of stakes.

“What’s your name?” Willam called to the man.

“Vito,” He called back with his head lowered to the wind.

The two men walked into the nearest tent. Vito held open the flap and William stepped into the crowded space. Hunched shoulders and tight, cold faces turned to look at him. All around were faces angry, confused, hurt. Several of the men were uninjured, but most were haggard, beat, bruised, with some missing limbs or with arms in slings. The eyes that looked at him were of scared men.

“I’m Midshipman Grace,” William said over the wind. “Whats our situation?”

“We’re fucked.” A voice called from the back of the tent.

William nodded. He should have expected that response. “Let’s try that again.”

“Sir, we’ve got nearly two dozen survivors. Kwesi, Selim and Nur are out setting up another tent. I’m um, Tero sir, Engineers Mate Tero.” The man was plump in the face and neck practically swam in the oversize heavy jacket.

“Food? Water?” William asked. The wind slapped against the tent and the sides bowed in a bit.

Another man responded, “Private Aleksandr Sir, we’ve found cases of drop rations, we’ve got about four so far.”

William nodded. Each case was rations for 50 men for a day. So they had four days, and they hadn’t even combed the crash site.

“Water?” He asked as he shifted his weight.

Aleksandr shook his head. “We’re eating the snow, we’ve got no way to melt any water.”

“How we gonna get out of here?” A voice called out angrily from the back.

William looked to the back of the tent. A man sat on the floor with his back against the wall. His shoulders were hunched forward but his head looked up defiantly. Both of his eyes were ringed with deep bruises. His nose was smashed across the bridge.

“I think we’ll try to stay alive for a bit before we worry about rebuilding the ship don’t you think?” William replied with a bit of a jest.

The man simply glared back. William scanned the faces of the others, none were defiant, most were blank and still in shock.

“Do we have any comms?” William asked.

A thin man with almond eyes responded, “Comms Mate Xan sir, there’s a dropcap about a kilometer away with, I think, an undamaged commset, but it has no power.”

“Can we fix it?” William asked as he looked around the room.

“Not unless we get juice,” Xan replied with frosted breath.

William nodded slightly. The wind slapped and ripped with the intensity of a modest hurricane.

“Can anyone get into one of the capsules and get us some power?” William looked to the group and saw only downcast eyes with a single defiant look back.

“I can.” The man with defiant eyes stated.

“And who is ‘I’?” William asked with a slight spit. His shoulder blades began to ache as the adrenaline picked up.

“Grue. I’ll get your fucking power,” The man replied with dark eyes.

“OK Grue. Xan, go with him and help,” William said.

“I don’t need any help,” Grue replied.

“No one goes out alone.” William stared at Grue and saw nothing but anger.

The wind rippled the walls like a billowed sail before settling back to a howl. The air bounced around them as the walls shook and quivered. Clouds of frost from there voices shook before them.

Grue stood and pushed his way through the crowd. A few sets of eyes looked up as he passed. Xan stumbled and dropped to a knee before standing next to Grue by the door. The pair hesitated, looked back, and finally pushed through the flaps and outside. The wind slapped the flaps and the men stumbled with heads down out the door.

Outside raged a wind that had built around most of a planet. The seas whipped and churned as the warm air rose from the south and finally chopped against the icy fringes of the north. It circled like a stabled stallion until finally smashing into the landmass that the survivors sat on. It was unrelenting and violent.

Corporal Berry clung to the mylar blanket and pulled it as tight as he could. His legs were thrashed and bruised and he could feel the warmth of the nanites sealing up the tear in his side. He was almost giddy with the painkillers and wanted to laugh out loud when the Midshipman had sparred with the Engineer.

“Oh man, this is going to be good,” he said. Specks of light danced on the edge of his eyes. He could sleep, he could feel it coming, but he was afraid.

An olive skinned man shuddered next to him and struggled to get comfortable. One ear was missing. A ragged patch of dried blood was the only thing left.

“Skinny up there boy, lean against my back,” Berry said with a smile and slid himself back.

The earless man turned and relaxed against his back. He was icy and tight. “You’re warm,” he said with slurred speech.

“Private, you need a patch.”

The man was silent and only shivered.

“Lost em eh Private? A private is as a Private does.” Berry turned his head slightly and gave a light jab with his elbow. “Now you just stick with Corporal Berry, I’ll take care of you Private.” He dug out the box and flipped it onto the mans lap.

“I’m Nur.”

“Nur. Well my new friend, stick with the Berry and you’ll see things right.” Berry relaxed himself into Nur and made it a point to track down the engineer Grue if he came back. He didn’t like the Navy, he didn’t like the Army much either for that matter. But he especially didn’t like young, useless Officers. The Midshipman was the pinnacle of everything that was wrong with the new Military.

“Oh god,” Nur whispered and relaxed into Berry as the nanites gripped.

“That ain’t god Nur, you remember now.” He looked up to the Midshipman and shook his head. That’s it, he thought, the problem with all of this. Take away the real professionals, the Americans, the Russians, Chinese, and let anyone who signed a piece of paper lead. A shame. A damned dirty shame. “You remember now.”

William looked to the group of broken, injured, fallen men before him. “We need supplies. NCO’s?”

A few eyes raised up. “Sir?” One asked barely above the wind.

“Names?” William asked.

“Crow.” The man he met earlier said with a horse voice.

“Leduc.”

“Berry.” The last NCO answered loudly.

“We need supplies. More gear. Food, whatever looks useful. Keep an eye out for survivors.” William said. He knew looking for more people alive was slim.

“Sir, what about whatever shot us down?” Berry asked.

“I don’t know Corporal Berry.” William replied.

“What if they come back?” Berry asked again.

“I don’t know.” William replied again tersely.

“What do you know? A fucking midshipman?” Berry called out to no one.

No one looked up to him. Eyes were cast down to the frosted floor beneath. William shifted his feet and felt the bandages crackle like raw paper. It wasn’t the moment to call rank, no one would buy it. The people before him were one argument away from falling apart.

“Yah. A midshipman. I didn’t see you doing anything when I came in.”

“We…” Berry’s voice was lost in another gust that nearly buckled the wall. He stayed quiet when the wind stopped.

“I’m with the first team. Let’s go for a stroll.” William said with as much confidence as he could.

“Sir.” The man named Leduc stood and walked to the edge of the door. He slid a mask from his pocket and smoothed it over his black stubble covered head.

A Marine Private walked forward and stood dejectedly next to them. He didn’t speak. His face was bruised. A deep gash tinged with white arced across his cheeks and forehead.

The trio walked out into the dimming light tinted with frost and wind. The chill immediately set in crackling the jackets and stiffening the gear. They walked single file into the harsh wind. The goal, a dropcap half a kilometer away. Scattered debris collected snow and grit around them. Bodies were already drifting over. The snow was coming in heavier and not just the windswept remnants of some lost storm.

The capsule was crushed, blackened and split like an old tin can. The three worked in silence stripping out the rations, another shelter, and what appeared to be a purifier. They ignored the white cheeked wooden bodies frozen in the capsule.

“What are we going to do sir?” The man with the frost-touched cheeks asked.

William licked his chapped lips. The air was dry and abrasive. “Wait for the fleet.”

“What if they don’t come?” He asked with pleading eyes.

William looked up at the technology around him. The capsule was dead. The tenuous reach of man into the void couldn’t do much to save them now. “They’ll come.”

The air shimmered with motes of frost with each strike of wind. William took one last look at the gallery of souls staring down at them. There was no salvation in the snow.

They walked through the cruel wind, buffeted and pushed until they reached the huts. They sat, chilled through, and watched as another group went out. The only constant was the wind and drifting snows. The groups came back, remarked on a find, and dreaded the next trip out. The greatest discovery was a black case of sleeping bags. The men draped them onto themselves like ermine cloaks.

The sun dropped to a dim white disk on the horizon. The men feared the night. Each sat in his own way and huddled for heat, wary that no more would come other than from his own body.

Grue stomped through the door and pushed himself through the crouched bodies. “You got your juice.”

“Where’s Xan?”

Grue hunched into a corner and grabbed a sleeping bag. He ignored William with an intense energy focused on the sleeping bag.

William stood and shed the cloak of the sleeping bag and made his way for the door. Vito came through the door and stumbled next to him.

“William, we’re going to have a problem.”

“Vito, can it wait? Xan is in the capsule, we’ve got power.”

Vito nodded. “We can talk there.”

“Sergeant Crow, detail a few men to tend to the wounded.” William slid the borrowed mask onto his face and stepped into the cold.

The wind had dropped to just above a breeze but the temperature had dropped with it. The day was drawing closed as the horizon was dimly lit.

“What’s on the horizon?” William asked.

“Pardon?” Vito asked peering forwards.

“Are you Army? Marine? Navy?” William asked.

“Civilian. I’m with the Delegation.”

“Oh, I didn’t know we used diplomats on drops too.” William kicked through a waist high drift and tilted his head as Vito walked behind.

“When the need arises,” Vito replied simply.

“What’s your specialty?”

Vito stopped and slapped the gritty snow off of his pants. “Terraforming Technologies, Nanites, with a smattering of History.”

William smiled and nodded. “A history professor?” He asked in jest.

Vito smiled with cracked lips. “And so much more.”

“When I asked what was on the horizon, I meant what did you need to speak about?” William asked.

“The patches, we’ll run out soon. Each is good for a few hours. They are stabilizers, not for long term use.”

“What happens?”

“Some will wake up, or some will just die. The anticoagulants and nanites are the only thing keeping some of them alive.”

William nodded. The drop capsule was closer. “Anything to be done?”

Vito shook his head. “Not unless the fleet arrives and we get a proper med-vac. Even if the Surgeon you’d shot was here we still couldn’t save them.”

“That didn’t end like I thought,” William replied.

“No, but I bet you didn’t think you’d be walking on the ground,” Vito replied.

A slight hissing and an occasional pop rolled off of the capsule. Falling snow evaporated on the stained grayish white cooling fins. A ragged plastic sheet covered the hatch. Bodies lay roughly piled just out from the crooked entrance. The reality of the moment changed the tone of the walk. He had almost forgotten, just for a windless moment.

They pushed through the plastic sheet and a hint of warm air rushed past them. The frost that had accumulated on them softened briefly before freezing again. The electronics around them had warmed the air ever so slightly.

“Xan, what have you got?” William asked. He walked across the crushed and crumpled floor.

Xan had a wire and conduit console draped across his lap like an old woman knitting. “Something Sir, but I think we need your ID code to get it.”

“Got a keypad?”

Xan nodded his chin at a crumpled numeric pad. “Watch the screen, some of the keys double-tap.”

William tapped, corrected, tapped, and tried again. Finally the screen relented and text cascaded down. The two men read in silence.

“What does it say?” Vito asked.

The two men read in silence.

“William?” Vito asked again as he scrambled over the seats.

“They’re gone,” William replied.

“Who?” Vito asked clambering closer, more frantic.

“The fleet, they blinked out,” William replied and sat down hard.

Vito read in silence.

The wind quickened and the plastic flapped. The brief solace of the sunset gave way to the chill night winds that brought nothing but ice and pain. The three men walked back in silence buffeted with despair.

CHAPTER TWO

Walking Frozen

The faces of the survivors wore a light coat of stubble flecked with gray frost. A dim light strip on the edge of the tent cast the only faint glow. Inside the tent heaps of sleeping bags were scattered in clumps. The tent began to take on the smell that any small enclosed space does when filled with fearful, injured men.

William Grace pushed through the entry and into a space devoid of wind, yet cold and still. A few of the sleeping bags moved and faces looked up from shadows at him. He hesitated, then turned to Vito.

“Go get the others.”

Vito nodded and walked outside.

“You mind?” Xan asked pointing to a pile of sleeping bags.

William shook his head and waited in the chill air.

Men began to stir. Whispers wandered through the room and they began to awaken. William looked down at them and realized that they were now both his burden, and his salvation.

Vito returned with another small group of men who carried sleeping bags in their arms. “I’ll go relieve the guys watching the wounded,” Vito said as he walked back outside.

William waited. He tucked his chilled fingers into the dead mans jacket and remembered he still carried the gun. The frame felt cold even through the gloves. He turned it over in his hand idly feeling its weight. The rest came in.

He cleared his voice and straightened his back. “Xan and Grue got one of the comm sets working.”

Eager sounds and smiles broke out across the room. Men sat up and slid the sleeping bags off of their heads. William pulled his hands out of his jacket and made a placating motion.

“They’re gone, left system, I doubt they think there are any survivors,” William said hesitantly.

Silence reigned with the only sound being the wind whipping the snow against the shelter. Eyes, white with fear, darted around the room all looking for one or another to speak, to question, to reassure. Only the wind spoke.

William broke the silence. “We’re going to get out on our own.”

“That’s fucking bullshit,” Grue called from the back.

“Maybe, but they lost a heavy drop cruiser to a planet that was supposed to be unprotected. Would you blink the fleet in to something like that?” He replied carefully. The crowd verged on angry but still maintained military discipline, for now.

“What do we do?” A thin voice asked.

“For now collect supplies, tend to the wounded, and move our way South.”

“But where are we going?” Kwesi a man with a face black like ink asked.

“To the original objective. We’re going to complete the mission.” William looked around and let it sink in. “From what we can gather we came down about a thousand miles north, we blinked in a polar orbit and down we came.” His mouth was dry. He rasped his lips with his tongue. “For now everyone rest, there’s another wind coming in.”

Men shifted and looked to each other. William looked back and waited, waited for the mutiny, the questions, the anger. But all he was met with was silence. Only a few sets of eyes looked at him angrily, Grue especially.

He settled in near the door, the coldest part of the tent. He stuck one sleeping bag behind him, another under, and crawled into a third. The cold was merely kept at bay, but not stopped.

The night was cold. Cold enough to brittle steel and destroy flesh. The tent was rimed with frost in the corners as the men slept a fitful sleep. Each was lost in his moment, alone, and without dream. The night drew on long, as all uncomfortable nights seem to do. Before the day was light the men stirred and waited, looking up to the lightband above them. The lights were dimmer than before, barely enough to throw a glow.

“Well,” William said as he sat up into the frozen air. He felt like he had slept on a bed of crushed gravel. His body ached and rebelled at the thought of getting out of the slight warmth of the sleeping bags. He heard voices and men began to stream outside. One returned with a ration case, the other with an empty crate of snow. Breakfast.

“It’s cold,” a man said in a sleepy voice.

“Cold enough to chill a donkey,” a man replied.

Raw words drifted through the tent as men adjusted to the cold. They chewed on the rough crystals of snow. William put some onto his mouth and instantly felt colder. They tasted alkaline. His tongue felt rough. His thirst was not sated.

“Breakfast I see?” Vito said as he slid through the door and onto the floor next to William.

William handed him a ration bar. “Stick it under your arm.”

Vito nodded and let out a hiss as he placed the bar against cold flesh.

“How are the wounded?” William asked.

“Wounded,” Vito replied as he stuffed snow into his mouth. “Bleh.”

“Doesn’t do much,” William replied.

“No, but the tea is a bit late in coming,” Vito replied as he scooped up some more snow.

“Can we move them Vito?”

Vito looked around the room with his soft, dark eyes. “I’m not sure we have the strength to do it, but we can try. Most everyone here is in damn poor health. Broken bones, ribs, contusions, frostbite, and we’re all slowly heading to hypothermia,” Vito coughed in the dry air. “Once the patches run out most of the seriously wounded will die. Then we can carry the rest.”

“How long?” William asked quietly.

“About 48 hours. Less if you decide to ration the patches for everyone else,” Vito said without making eye contact with William.

William felt the weight of command settle once again on his shoulders. No, he realized, it hadn’t left, he had just forgotten. He became aware of the eyes around the room all sneaking glances in between conversations. He was, for the moment, in command. “Hmm.”

Vito nodded. “Hmm, indeed.”

The decision rolled through his mind bitterly. No option was the good option. “Walk the line,” William said as he rubbed his cold stubbled chin. “Cut off the most injured, try and buy some more time for the less wounded.”

Vito nodded. “When?”

“Once we’re done eating.” William looked around and saw Sergeant Crow watching him. “Sergeant, get a roll call, see what we have here. Organize more search teams, we could use more medical supplies.”

“Yes sir,” Crow replied. “Sir?”

“Yes?”

“You’re doing the right thing.” Crow said.

“I certainly hope so, otherwise I’ve got a court martial coming.”

“That’s assuming you get out to get court martialed,” Vito added as he gnawed on the featureless, brown bar.

They slowly crept into motion like a cold worm. Men emerged from beneath the sleeping bags and went outside, just because they had no other place to go. The light drew them out, and the cold pushed them back in. William and Vito walked to the entry of the triage tent.

“You don’t have to come in,” Vito said.

“No, I do,” William replied.

They entered and Vito walked down the still line once. His eyes studied, checked, and took in what details he could. He stooped and inspected each one before returning to William.

“Sixteen here,” Vito sighed and ran his hand under his cap. “I’m going to pull half.”

William nodded and stood by the door with cold eyes.

Vito knelt next to each and peeled the sticky nanite patch from the neck of the wounded. The patches seemed to resist, to want to grab and stick. Each shimmered briefly in the frosty air before returning to dull black. He laid the patches carefully on the floor.

Vito moved to the blond woman that the Surgeon had tried to shoot. Her face was a dirty green and yellow bruise from chin to eyebrows. A crust of blood sat below her nostrils. Vito stripped the patch and continued along. He collected the patches and reapplied backings. He turned and walked over by Williams side. He nodded and stood with crossed arms. “It’ll take 15 minutes or so.”

“What’s going to happen?” William asked, eyes locked on the blonde.

“Most will bleed out internally once the core nanites shutdown. In others the swelling of the skull will do it,” Vito stated.

“Will any of them wake?”

“Doubtful.”

William nodded and watched. Time passed by with only the wind as a metronome. A hand went rigid then relaxed. Breathing became ragged and stopped. Vito walked and checked each after 15 minutes and placed the sleeping bags over there heads. More men died. An hour later of the eight only the blond remained.

“What about her?” William asked as he stood before the blond woman. The bruising seemed darker, angrier and the blood ran in a thin stream from her nose.

Vito shrugged and walked back to the supplies. He returned with a fresh patch and applied it to her neck. “Lucky,” Vito said.

“I’m going to stay here, mind sending some help to move them?” Vito asked.

William nodded and walked out the door into the frigid morning white air. Grue stood near the door of the first tent with eyes filled with fire. Another soldier stood and was speaking into his ear. William saw Crow approaching with Corporal Leduc.

“Sir.”

“Sergeant Crow,” William replied. “Corporal, get a few men in good shape and help Vito out.”

“Yes Sir,” Leduc replied and turned back to the tent.

William kept his gaze on Grue and watched as he and the other man walked back into the tent. “Shall we get out of the wind Sergeant?” He said.

Crow nodded. The two men walked to the third tent and pushed inside. A few men still lingered in sleeping bags, the heavily injured. The walls flapped lightly in the variable wind.

“How does it look Crow?” William asked.

Crow shook his head slowly. “We’ve got a few cases of ration bars, about a weeks worth at the recommended ration. Maybe double that on half rations.” He took his heavy gloves off and blew into his hands. “No water, though we’ve got some containers that would work if we could keep it from freezing. Plus a purifier, whatever use it may be.”

William nodded. Water was going to become an issue and fast. He was constantly thirsty, his lips cracked and dry and his tongue felt like a dry potato in his mouth. No matter how hard he worked he just couldn’t seem to get enough saliva. “Mitsubishi-Kubota purifier?” He asked.

“I didn’t see a name,” Crow said.

“Color?” William asked.

“Silver and orange.”

“Thats a mitskub then, good unit,” William nodded in reply.

“I’ll talk to Grue about the reactor, see if we can strip it out.” William said. He looked past him to a young man huddled in a sleeping bag. “Soldier,” He called. “Head out and get the other NCO’s. Vito as well too please.” He took a sigh. “We might as well make it a proper meeting.”

“Very well Sir,” Crow replied as he breathed more into his cupped hands.

The young man returned, “They’re coming sir.”

“Thank you, uh, what’s your name soldier?” William asked.

“Xinhu, Navy sir, ships welder,” he replied. His eyes were rimmed red and his lips so chapped as to be white.

William nodded and waited for the others.

The NCO’s streamed in and took seats with sleeping bags as cloaks. The air grew colder as the door was open longer. The men hunched and shivered and wondered.

“Alright. Let’s start with introductions. I’m William Grace, Midshipman, but call me Grace.” William looked to Crow.

“Sergeant Crow.”

The man he saw earlier in the white uniform spoke next. “Warrant Officer Sebastien Villeneuve, Core Marines.”

The men, staring idly all turned to Sebastien. William looked closer and pointed to the next man.

“Sergeant Selim, Marines.” The man with the dark hair replied proudly.

“Xavier Leduc,” stammered a man with close cropped black hair. “Corporal.”

“Berry, Corporal.” Berry said loudly in a slow accent. “Army,” he emphasized.

“Vitomir Kovac.” Vito stated through still pained eyes.

“So here’s how it is,” William began. “We’re on half ration, we’ve got enough to last us a bit. I want teams heading out and looking for more. Looking for anything, anything that can help us.”

“What’s the plan sir?” Sebastien asked.

William licked his dry lips. “We go south.” He looked at the reactions of the NCOs in front of him. A few eyes lit up. “I’m looking for some information, on my end we were to blink in, drop the capsules and blink out. What was the objective?”

The NCO’s looked to Sebastien but he kept his eyes on William.

“Secure the needle. That was goal number one, the Marines had a secondary objective, refinery I think.” Berry replied in a slow drawl. He looked around at the other NCO’s and they nodded in agreement.

“What was the secondary? What sort of resistance was expected?” William asked.

“There was a refinery, one that wasn’t supposed to be here. The Army was to secure the needle and hold it while we took the refining array before they could destroy it.” Sebastien said. “We didn’t expect resistance.”

The men around the room nodded. The shock was still lingering.

William nodded. “Neither did we, this was supposed to be routine.”

“So what happened?” Berry asked. His tone insinuated blame.

William looked at Berry for a moment before replying. “I wish I knew, I was working to support the drop. I was in the dropcap bay. I haven’t seen any survivors that were with the rest of the ship.”

The wind slammed into the shelter like a solid wave. Everyone turned to watch the wall bend bow inward before finally relaxing. The wind had returned.

“Keep the outside time short. Everyone watch for frostbite in your men, break everyone into squads and rotate outside. Questions?” William said.

“What about the wounded?” Berry asked.

William looked to Vito and replied. “We’ve cut off the worst injured with the hopes of keeping the less injured going a bit longer.”

“Why? We’ll have to carry them.” Berry stated.

William looked around to the NCO’s. The Marines seemed to turn a shade of red. “We’re not leaving anyone. We’re stopping the patches tomorrow, whoever survives is coming with us. We’ve already stopped patches for the most wounded.”

Berry nodded with a slight smile on his chapped lips. “Alright Captain,” he replied as he stood and stomped into the cold.

William watched him stride out defiantly. He looked back to the NCO’s and saw curious looks. He needed to talk to Berry and hammer this out.

“Alright, we’ll meet up again at the end of the day. Selim, get a ration count and stand a guard on it, you’re in charge of rations. We’re going to allow a full ration tonight, but half tomorrow.”

Selim nodded. “Full rations?”

“Full,” William replied. “Give them one last full meal.”

The men before him were silent.

Berry bent over at the waist and stomped back to the main tent. The air inside was mostly still but the wind seemed to pinch in at every seam. He found Grue and Nur and sat beside them.

“We’re going south boys,” Berry said.

Grue’s eyes smoldered. “I’m not your boy.”

“Calm down Mr. Grue, I respect a professional.” Berry let the words hang and watched for the reaction. There, the shoulders dropped a bit and the eyebrows relaxed. “Who knows where things might lead us, a professional is always in style.”

“Abandoned. Just shitcanned aside,” Grue said.

“What’s to the South?” Nur asked.

Berry didn’t know and that bothered him. To the South was freedom from the cold, that much he knew.

“What’d you happen to be in charge of on that ship?” Berry asked Grue.

“I worked with the reactor team.”

Berry nodded and shivered. The combination of the aches, chills, and tensions sapped the energy out of him. “We’ll get out of this together, you might need someone who knows how to shoot now right?”

Grue raised his eyes. Thin growths of frost was caked on his eyelashes. “I’ll keep it in mind,” he replied quietly.

Berry nodded and saw the augment enter the tent and sit. Big bastard, he thought. He dropped the bag away and braved the chill to go and speak to him.

Sebastien looked up and nodded to Berry. “Corporal.”

Might as well get to the point. “You going to let that Midshipman tell you where to go?”

Sebastien raised his head slowly with a slight tilt.

“We need to get a comm station going and radio the Civilians for help. Ain’t enough here to storm a donut stand,” Berry said with a flick of his wrist. He waited. The silence of the moment grew uncomfortable. Did he hear him? He rubbed his gloves together and looked away from the Marine.

“Rescue,” Sebastien stated as if it was the first time he’d said the words.

“Lay down the arms, get taken in, they’d get a dandy ransom I’m sure,” Berry said with a smile. Was he getting anywhere? Damned hard man to read.

“Corporal, follow your chain of command. If you have a suggestion pass it along to Sergeant Crow.” The tone finalized the conversation.

“But Sir, you could take the initiative, save these men,” Berry pleaded.

“Carry on with your duties Corporal, your shift to go outside will be here soon.”

Berry stood slowly and looked down to Sebastien. The eyes that looked back up at him were as cold as the rocks outside. He thought better of continuing the conversation. Can’t squeeze water from a rock, he thought.

William walked back out into the white bright air outside. He saw blue sky for the first time. It was whipped by low flying clouds. The gripping wind tossed another blast. He braced himself against the side of the tent and waited for it to relent. Vito emerged and the two shambled to the tent filled with wounded.

He watched the wounded sleep the fitful nanite induced sleep. Vito walked around and checked each one with a careful finger on the neck.

“How long till they become hypothermic?” William asked.

“They won’t, not as long as the patches are on,” Vito replied checking the pulse of the blond.

“What?”

“Nanites generate heat, as they work and repair they each give off a tiny bit of energy, add that up and you get a net heating effect. Too many nanites and they can cook altogether, though they normally self regulate,” Vito replied.

“What about on us?” William asked.

“No work, no heat. They may make a bit of energy, but not as much as the seriously wounded. That’s how I decided on who to cut off,” Vito said as he stood stiffly in the crisp air. “Simple thermodynamics.”

William nodded and watched down the line. He squatted onto his haunches and removed his gloves. He touched his dry hands onto his cheeks, they were cold, rough, and raspy. His hands grew cold quickly. He touched his fingertips onto the ankle of a man in front of him. It was warm even through his clothing.

These were his charge. The ones who couldn’t defend themselves. He could leave them to freeze easy enough and he knew it. No one would chastise him for saving what he could. Already it was a daunting task just to survive, but to survive and to move… He stood, put his gloves back on and walked out into the cold.

He found him in the tent, covered in a mound of sleeping bags like a hibernating bear. Corporal Berry sat close by next to him. This was going to be an uncomfortable conversation.

“Grue, wake up,” William said as he slid down and sat in front of him. He pulled a free sleeping bag over him and tried to stay warm. He was still thirsty.

“Go away,” Grue said quietly.

“Can we strip the reactor out of that capsule?” William asked.

“No.”

“Is there any power source that we can take out?” William asked.

“No.”

“No there isn’t or no you won’t?” William asked. “I’m not going to let these men die because you decided to.”

Grue raised his eyes and the anger was evident across his face. “No, as in they aren’t designed to come out, No as in there isn’t any other power supplies.”

“Is there anything that had a portable reactor?” William asked.

Grue looked at the floor in silence.

“Grue?” William asked louder.

“Striders,” Grue said with his eyes closed. “We had one capsule with striders, find them and I’ll get you some power. Now leave me alone.”

“Striders,” William whispered to himself.

“Not afraid of robots eh Captain?” Berry said coldly.

“Corporal, I’d appreciate some respect, I need everyone working on moving us forward,” William replied.

“Where are you from?” Berry said as he sat forward.

William cleared his throat. “Farshore.”

“Bullshit,” Berry spat. “It burned.”

“Yes Corporal, it did.” William replied and shifted the sleeping bag off his lap.

“I ain’t got no pity for you boy,” Berry said.

“Corporal, I’m not a ‘boy’,” William said as he stood. “We don’t have to like each other, but we’ve got to work together.”

The two men locked eyes in a moment of mutual disagreement. William knew why he didn’t like Berry, but had no real clue why Berry didn’t like him. The wind slapped the side of tent. The tension broke and William walked to the door. “Corporal, get a detail together, get Grue whatever supplies he needs in case we find the striders.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before walking into the white. He waited a moment and let his eyes adjust to the brightness. A man was running down the hill heading directly for the camp. William walked to the edge of the camp and waited.

It was Private Avinash, he had the face mask pulled down below his chin. His dark brown face was burnt white on the cheeks and his breathing was heavy and raspy. “Sir!” He panted and covered his mouth with his hands. His breathing was labored and sounded painful. The cold air had been searing his lungs.

“What is it Avinash?” William asked, lending the man an arm.

“Avi sir, please.” He replied with a smile.

William smiled in return. This must be good news. “Ok Avi, what has you so excited as to run back to camp?”

“More survivors. A trio coming in sir,” Avi said in a staccato burst.

“Get inside,” William said as he began to walk to the ridge that Avi had came from. The wind seemed to relent until he crested the stony rise. Before him lay the path they’d have to take. South. Beyond was low hills, scarred ground and snowdrifts that shifted daily. A dim capsule was visible on the horizon that they hadn’t seen when the weather was worse. A group of men stumbled forward dragging a sled behind them. He rushed down the low slope to meet them.

Selim and Aleksandr each pulled on the sled while the other two men barely stood on either side. It was heaped with sleeping bags and lashed tightly down with raw black electrical wire. William grasped the rope and pulled. The group was met by more men, one of the newcomers fell and was carried to the tents. A new wind was rising and the clouds darkening.

The tents felt balmy in comparison to the outside where the wind drove the nails of frost. Though even indoors the walls fluttered creating drafts throughout.

They pulled back the sleeping bags expecting to find a corpse, and instead found a jockey. The man on the sled wore a heavy control suit. His temples were covered in the telltale darkness of a carbon interface. No patches were visible on his neck. A slender cord snaked along his body and was tethered to a stout looking box. A reactor.

The second man was short and thin and crumbled in the middle of the room. The others stripped his mask off and draped a sleeping bag over him. He was shivering uncontrollably, almost violently. His body temperature had dropped near that point where hypothermia would roll in unchecked.

The last man stood defiantly in the center of the room like a prize fighter. He pulled a shredded mask from his face and looked around the room. His eyes were dark brown and surrounded by worry. He stripped off a glove and held out a nanite tattooed hand to Sergeant Selim and then William.

“I am Eduardo Gomes Rodriguez Gonzales, Technical Sergeant, and you have my thanks,” Eduardo said sincerely and in a low raspy voice.

His lips quivered while he restrained himself from shivering. He shook the hand of each man around him, clasping tightly with both of his ice cube cold hands. His eyes burned brightly as he locked his gaze on each. The tattoo on the back of one hands was of an angel standing on a mountain and buffeted by winds. It shook and grew brighter with every handshake, the figure standing sternly. The other tattoo of a somber cross, dark and cracked.

The survivors all stood in silence. The white elephant in the room was the man connected to the reactor. No one quite had words for the moment. The desperation that many had felt began to soften, while the excitement began to rise.

The wind shrieked in through the entryway. Grue entered with Berry, a Civilian named James and a Private named Nur. Vito came not far behind. Grue walked angrily across the room and kneeled next to the reactor.

He looked up angrily. “Where did you find it?”

Eduardo looked down his nose at Grue. “It is mine, from my capsule, from my strider.”

Grue tilted it and began to unscrew the connectors on the side.

“What are you doing?” Eduardo called out. He took two quick steps and pushed Grue weakly.

“Stop!” William yelled. He worked his way forward and grasped Grue by the shoulder pulling him away.

“Get your hands off me!” Grue shouted back. He rolled his shoulder and stepped away. “Do you want to freeze to death? We need to get this hooked up to a heat sink.”

“Hess will die!” Eduardo protested. He stood shakily. His tattoos had shifted, the angel was now bracketed by flames.

Vito stepped forward and knelt next to Hess. He peeled back the protective liner from a nanite patch and applied it to Hess’s neck. Vito sat back on his haunches and looked down at the man.

“He’ll freeze…” Eduardo said softly.

Vito shook his head. “The patches will keep him warm and help him heal.”

Eduardo sunk down onto the floor and nodded. The burden of keeping his men alive had passed, at least for the moment, to other men.

Grue stood and brushed past Berry. Berry looked at the dimming room and followed him outside. Nur stood a moment later and followed.

A team was dispatched into the cold to strip heat dissipation coils off of the nearest capsule. The reactor was disconnected gently, gingerly, and with the watchful eye of Eduardo keeping everyone on task. Even Grue was silent when Eduardo’s raspy voice called out instructions. Conducting cord was run between the tents and the capsules cooling fins wired in with a slab of cold rock as an insulator to keep them off the floor.

The reactor was stocky and featureless except for the power connectors. It was controlled by a slim panel that flipped down with the most basic of maintenance tasks. When all was hooked up the chilled eyes all went to Eduardo. He was like a creaking old man laid next to it. His hands were chilled and the tattoos seemed muted and gray.

He touched the tip of his tongue to his upper lip and began to tap on the screen. All of the survivors who could walk had crammed into one tent to watch. To observe the Promethean emergence of a fresh new energy. With an undramatic tap the screen slid back into the beveled housing and Eduardo slid next to Hess and covered himself up with the sheer sleeping bag.

The men watched the fins before them. It was gray and flaked with white patches of oxidation. The fins were of a fierce nickel iron niobium alloy that reveled in the heat. Not so much the atmosphere but that wasn’t an issue as they wouldn’t be pushing that much heat through it.

The greedy eyes all coveted the heat. Men held out hands before them with white and brown palms aching in the cold just waiting to feel the heat. A single drop of water slid down one of the cooling fins and fell as liquid. It landed as ice but everyone saw it. A barely audible gasp went out as the heat slowly began to radiate.

For the first time since they awoke battered and cold, they had heat.

CHAPTER THREE

The Cut

The night was finally warm, though only warm in relative terms. A drip could exist but only in the center of the room. Everyone huddled and shook, none wanting to get too close, and none wanting to be too far. Throughout the night the cooling fins pinged like an out of tune banjo.

The greatest downfall of the twanging fins and the meager heat was the moisture. What had a been air as dry as a desert now seemed to deposit moisture. It seeped into gloves, sleeping bags, and clothes. The dry crispness slowly changed into wet chill or frozen crunch. Men awoke not to a dry shiver, but a steadily growing moisture that seeped into everything.

William sat up stiffly and pushed the sleeping bag aside. The dim heat radiated on his cheeks. He sat and let the waves of thermal energy seep in. It was like sitting on the far edge of a campfire on a cool spring night. The tent shook and the air shifted inside stealing away his brief moment.

The room slowly began to awaken. Men peaked dirty faces out from dampening sleeping bags and watched, waited, for someone else to be first up. William stood slowly and stooped over to grab his mittens. He jammed his fingers in and gasped in surprise. Dampness.

A man walked out before William and returned with a container of fresh snow, setting it near the heating fins. The snow slowly lost the hard razor crystalline edge and shifted to a sponge like texture before disappearing into a dampening mass. Everyone moved closer and stood in close contact waiting. Half ration bars were passed about in silence.

The time was approaching to go. William knew it. He knew south was the only way, regardless of what it held. Staying was certain death, even if departing was as dangerous.

A voice spoke in short staccato bursts. “She came down like a rock. When we came to we were near the ship, the capsule was split and the striders were wrecked,” said Eduardo. He licked his lips and watched the snow melt. “We moved south to the ship, she was broke and smashed. She’s right next to a foggy water.”

More eyes lit up around and the men listened.

“She was broke on the spine and emptied out like an egg. Wreckage everywhere, just crash. Crash,” said Eduardo. “So we went back to the striders and got one working enough to listen for the fleet, and we heard the commset from up here. So we came.” He held a hand out before him and flexed his fingers near the coil.

“How far?” William asked.

“Two days eh? Maybe eh?” Eduardo replied.

“What about the water?”

“Rock shore mostly, a lot of fog.” Eduardo shrugged.

William focused and tried to remember the polar orbit position. There was a land mass, with a series of smaller islands between it and the main continent. But which where they on? The polar mass was a solid sheet of ice, so they were on one of the islands. Or did it just look that way from orbit?

“We’ll set out for the shore first thing in the morning. Eduardo, can you make the reactor rig portable?” William asked.

The men looked to each other and nodded around him. Most at least. Grue notably scowled.

“And what then Grace? Go Swimming?” Berry asked in his smooth drawl.

William was waiting for this. “Actually Corporal Berry, we’re going to go for a boat ride,” he replied with a smile.

Chuckles came from across the room and heads turned to watch Berry smirk with angry eyes. “A three hour tour?”

“If we’re lucky.” He smiled back. “We’re on an island north of the main landmass. Once we get clear of this we can make our way to the needle.”

“And what then? Drown in the water? Surrender?” Grue stammered angrily.

“I have no intention of surrender, we’re going to take the needle,” stated William.

The slick wind was the only sound as the men, battered and beaten, looked back at him. Thin smiles broke out on a few, while most just nodded.

“Now, we need to work up sleds and a mode of transport. Get everything portable and prepare sleds, we leave in the morning. Questions?”

The room was silent. William nodded. “Right, once the tea is done get on it.” He waited on the water and watched as the NCO’s prepped the men.

Breakfast slid down like a lump of coal rinsed with liquid frost. The water was still cold as hell, and it was hard to take more then a gulp at once. The ration bar, or half of it, began to lose any flavor as the taste buds numbed. William was already dreaming of real food.

William walked out into the light as the discussion behind him was on which method of cooking a chicken delivered the greatest flavor. Eduardo was delivering a very robust defense on the virtues of roasting. The crisp light hit him. He caught his breath and slid the facemask up. The dim warmth was totally wiped away and his mittens began to stiffen.

He stuffed his hands under his arms and shuffled to the tent with the wounded. The air inside was slightly warmer than outside. Only the thermal creaking of the fins made any noise. Only four of the wounded remained. Eduardo’s companion, the unconscious blond, and two unconscious men. Vito sat near the heater fins and waved him over.

“Vito,” said William as he squatted near the fins.

“Did you eat?” Vito offered half a ration bar.

“I dined already, but thanks.”

Vito nodded.

“How was the night?”

“Two died.”

“Two? Everyone off the patches?” William asked.

“Von Hess is on one, but he’ll be off by the end of the day.”

“Who?” William asked looking down the line.

“The Strider Jockey,” Vito pointed to Eduardo’s friend.

“We’re going tomorrow Vito, what do you need to move the wounded?”

“Besides a vehicle? Sleds maybe, but William, they’ll freeze to death,” Vito stated.

“Talk to Eduardo, see if he and Grue can come up with something with the reactor.”

Vito nodded slowly, unhappily. “Where are we headed?”

“South, Eduardo found water.”

“Water? That seems a bit unusual,” Vito said.

“Warmer currents from the south maybe?” William shrugged.

“And when we get there?”

“Ahh well, I’m still working on that one.”

William walked back into the cold air outside, but this time had his facemask up and ready. Men were moving about and collecting wreckage. A single sled was already wedged into a rock. It looked to be an outer casing of aluminum with electrical wire as a lanyard. He followed a fresh group heading out and helped to scour for more debris.

Berry huddled under his sleeping bag and snatched glances to the pile of ration cases stacked on the edge of the room. The tent was too tight, the quarters too close, he’d need another way.

“Grue,” Berry said in a low voice.

The man raised his eyes from staring at the floor. “What?”

“Are you in?” Berry asked. It was the first question he’d posed in a long time without already knowing the answer.

Grue returned his gaze to the floor and nodded.

“I’m going for a walk.” Berry nudged Nur and sat up stiffly. The wounds felt aged, rough, but getting better. He dropped the sleeping bag and ruffled his jacket. He’d be due outside for his next shift shortly. Might as well meet them outside, he thought.

The chill was shocking in its intensity. He tightened his jacket and stumbled along the edge of the tent. There wasn’t a person in sight. He slid his way up towards the tent with the wounded and stood listening to the wind.

Below him sat the barely visible tip of the stake attached to a tightened loop of coated wire. He squatted down next to the wall as if huddling from the cold and worked to remove it from the stake.

“Why don’t you come inside?” Vito asked from around the corner.

Berry froze. The loop was still locked into the stake in front of him. “Your stake worked loose.”

“Oh?” Vito walked closer and squatted down. “Hmm, I’m going to check the rest.”

Berry nodded and began to walk towards the other tent.

“Thank you!” Vito called.

Berry waved and found another stake to wiggle and work on in silence.

The day went on like those before with wind punishing those outdoors while those inside listened to the incessant howls in dread of when they would have to go back out. The slabs of aluminum, once covers to the dropcap supplies, now made an ideal sledge. Each had gussets on the lid that acted as slight skis helping them track straight. The only downfall was they required weight at all times. When empty they flipped and acted as a giant sail.

A slight break in the clouds and wind hit about mid afternoon and the work hastened even quicker. Supplies were piled nearby and the rocks were studded like a porcupine with the wedged sleds. The only concern was deflating the shelters and stowing them away.

A dim black line appeared on the horizon. At first it looked like a shadow crawling until a dark wall of storm clouds began to loom. The boiling and reeling front edge crashed in and over itself like a shattered wave on a stony shore. In a few short minutes it was upon them with a howling roar. Outside of the tents was only a wall of white. Travel between tents was impossible.

The men tried to move but all were driven back with mouths, eyes and nostrils packed with silty white crystals. The snow itself didn’t even have time to form proper flakes and instead was like chips of ice slammed against everything. It slowly seeped through the seals and against the flaps of the doors.

The men sat and watched in wonder and awe as the violence only increased. The blasts they had felt days before ended in an hour or two. This storm just seemed to be getting started.

“Spread out!” William shouted as the walls of the tent seemed to rise and buckle.

The men scurried around the tent and slid near the walls. The fabric, a weave of materials without a definable grain, strained and popped as the loads shifted. The floor lifted in the center before setting back down in a quivering flutter. The domed shape generated enough lift to momentarily levitate the shelter.

William huddled in his sleeping bag and watched the men around him. Most sat with eyes closed, though some huddled tight to those around them and watched the walls. Eduardo sat close to the reactor and watched it with an idle eye. The walls slapped against his back like an angry fish.

“Do you think the sleds are still outside?” William called to Sebastien.

“Maybe, we’ll see.” Sebastien replied with closed eyes.

William watched him a moment and tried to see any enhancements. He’d heard of the Core Marines, but had never seen one up close.

A sudden crack boomed over the wind. The men sat upright looking around fearfully. Eduardo leaped out of his sleeping bag and tapped on the control panel of the strider reactor.

“One coil is out!”

William slid along the floor over to the reactor. The floor shuddered under him.

“The medical tent?”

“No, no, the other,” Eduardo replied as he slammed his fingers down on the console.

William rushed to the door flap and felt the wind pushing against the overlapping panels. Each blast strained the doors. Could he open it? If he did would the interior billow and pop?

Crow came to his side and held the cable in his hands. “We can follow it out.”

William nodded and grasped the slick black conductor. Tero came alongside and shed his sleeping bag. Kwesi ran up and began to tie a piece of electrical cord around his waist.

“Like Kwesi!” William called. “Pass us some more cable!”

Men scrambled and patted and odd handfuls of electrical conductor came up front. William collected it all and the group tied off. Spare jackets came up and the crew prepared as best they could. In the back of the room Grue and Berry were arguing, Sebastien stood near with a cocked head.

“They’re already dead! Open that door and our tent goes too, you’ll kill us all!” Grue called out as he climbed over people to get to the door. His eyes were wide, filled with white. The corners of his mouth were flecked with spittle along his gray chapped lips.

“We’ve got to look!” William shouted back.

Kwesi grasped Grue by the hand and looked him in the eyes. “Man, if you were out you’d want someone to be a looking too!”

Grue pulled his hand back as if stung and stared back before retreating back to Berry’s side. Anger seeped out of the pair.

William turned to the door. Beyond it was a seething angry mass of wind and ice. He turned to the men behind him. “We follow the rope, go out, find the end and sweep while it’s taut. If you find something stop and slap the mans shoulder in front of you.” He looked at the Kwesi, Crow and Tero. “We bring em back.”

He slid his mittened hand through the flap and felt the cold sear against it. With a slight hiss the door opened more, further than he wanted. Selim rushed to his side and pushed the bottom of the flap in preventing it from flailing open.

It seemed to resist, to want to drive him inside, before he erupt throughed the door. It was like standing inside a bucket of white paint. He turned his head, opened his mouth, gagged and focused on breathing. He stumbled a few steps out before he tripped and fell.

A stiff hand pushed and he felt for the electrical conductor. It led forward into the white. He stood and pushed his head downward fighting, gasping, to breath through the ice and wind. Drifts of ice had formed like sheets of concrete over the cable that they fought to free and continue.

He dreaded finding a survivor and trying to get them back. They could barely stay upright themselves and he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore. A slight tear in the knee of his pants had ripped wide open and the wind had numbed it into a leaden slab. He was shivering now and began to hunch further forward.

The white had enveloped them all as they shambled into the maelstrom. Each could sense the other but could see nothing. A sudden wind slammed against them dropping them to the ground. William lost his grip on the cable and felt himself tugged only by the waist cord. The wind slammed hard, pushing him down, the only bearing he had was his waist pulling against the cable.

He gasped, slid, and clawed his way back to the main cable and found a hand pulling him back in. He knelt and tried to catch his breath before standing and stumbling forward. He was grateful for Kwesi, though it made him even more aware of those caught in the open.

Finally the moment came that he feared. The cable ended. Kwesi pushed up against his back and halted. William turned and began to swing sideways in an arc. Nothing felt the same, he had no bearings, nothing to guide him, just the tightness of the cable behind him. His footsteps shuffled further, it felt like he was moving upwards but he just couldn’t tell.

The cable tugged and a hand slapped him heavily on the back. He turned slowly and crept forward until he ran into the other men. He leaned forward and felt the ground in front of him, patting gently on the drifts. There. A hard mass like a stone. He slid his face closer and tried to block the wind. All he could see was the whiteness.

William slid one glove off and felt the mound before him. The skin was frozen tight with no hint of life below. It was like sliding his hand on a piece of frozen stone. His fingers were numb and he jammed his hand painfully back into the glove. A man frozen into an icy grave. All in under 10 minutes.

They couldn’t stay out longer, much more time and they would start losing fingers, toes, or worse. Already he felt his knee losing sensation. He clapped his hand on the man next to him and pushed him back. Failure was upon him just as harshly as the weather. He stumbled forward with the weight of command driving him on.

He pushed himself through the opening and into the dark inside. Hands pulled him inside and drug his quaking, shivering body near the heating coil. His eyes stung and burned as the ice melted and pooled as he stared upwards. Cold rough hands undressed him and stripped him into a fresh set of clothes. Dead mans clothes.

There was no need to tell everyone else what they had found as it was quite obvious. William sat and shook. A heavy, warm, sleeping bag pulled tight against him. His mind slid from one scenario to the next as he wondered what he could have done differently.

Sebastien sat down next to him and passed a plastic dish with a thin gruel of ration bars and tepid water. William grasped it in hands cold and tight like claws. It tasted like sand with a hint of lemon.

“Nothing that could be done, some freak wind,” Sebastien shrugged slightly.

William nodded and sipped more. As horrible as it tasted it warmed him from the inside. “But I could…”

“No. Focus on when the storm breaks,” Sebastien said.

“There were five men in that tent,” William said staring at the heating coils. Five men he was responsible for.

Sebastien stood and shrugged that slight shrug. “And tomorrow is another day.”

William watched him walk away and wondered how he could dismiss the event so casually. Then he remembered who he was, a man so injured in combat that he was more machine than human.

His knee ached and burned as the blood slowly returned to the frozen and damaged tissue. He had caught a glance when they were stripping him down, the skin was white with a tint of charcoal in the center. Every beat of his heart throbbed the burning even further.

The howling and slamming of the wind was relentless throughout the entire night. They only knew the tent with the wounded was still there because the reactor remained stable. William slept in fitful moments, awakened either by the booming wind or the burning in his leg.

Morning arrived with more of the same. The storm seemed as intense as when it had first slammed into them. Conversation, already sparse, dropped off and the men hemmed in near the heating coil and sat or slept. William would look to Eduardo who would check the output and nod solemnly. His tattoos shimmered and blurred whenever he exposed the flesh.

Eduardo crawled over and sat near him. He pulled off a mitten and slid his sleeve upwards. The arm was covered in a panorama of angels, mountains, lights, and fury all clashing with a darkness. It moved as if in slow motion. An image of blood droplets crawled slowly from elbow to wrist. Eduardo held out his arm with pride.

“It’s quite amazing,” said William as he watched the scene unfold.

“This arm was done during the Festival of Salvador, but it changes. See?” Eduardo said with a slight smile.

“Do you control it?” William asked.

“Ahh! Such is the beauty, it changes itself,” Eduardo beamed with pride. “That, that, is the miracle, the nanites decide. Or whoever controls the nanites.” Eduardo slid the sleeve back and pushed the mitten back on.

“Whoever?” William asked with a slight smile.

“Faith! You must have faith!” Eduardo nodded to himself.

William sat in silence and looked to the men around him. How much would they take before fracturing and wandering out to their deaths? How long would the storm last? He didn’t bother pondering beyond that. He shrugged to himself and sat in silence as the wind marched on.

The tension in the room dropped as the men grew used to the violence outside. A wicked gust would snap heads upwards to stare at the walls, but it held. William and Crow would hold the door open for a split second to see if the snow had relented. With every opening they saw nothing but a whipped white wall. Sleep came once more to the sound of heated metal.

They awoke to a sudden silence. William lay with his eyes opened and strained to hear the wind. The heating coil popped loudly. Men sat up and slid sleeping bags off. The silence was overpowering.

William shed the sleeping bag and crawled to the door. He pushed the door open. Crystals so white as to be almost gray poured inside. Outside was a white horizon with a line of pale blue sky. The storm had broken replacing violence with tranquility.

He waded across the gap between the two tents. The snow was heavy and stiff like a dry cement. He pushed back away a heavy bank and slid himself in, falling onto the floor with a hiss of snow behind. Vito sat with the head of the blond cradled on his lap, the strider jockey sat near the coil. A single man lay nearby. A solitary sleeping bag was tucked against the back wall.

“Vito!” William called excitedly.

“William, tell me you brought a ration bar or roast chicken?” Vito asked.

“Soon! How do you fare?”

“Von Hess has been reveling me with tales of Bavarian sausages, and Tik is explaining how to cure salmon,” Vito replied. “One more lost during the storm.”

William nodded to Von Hess and Tik. “I’m Midshipman Grace.”

Tik, the blond who the Surgeon missed, wore a subtle mask of bruises on her face. She gave a weak salute and nodded.

Von Hess gave a slight salute with an injured arm. “Is Tech Sergeant Eduardo well?”

William nodded, “Quite, thankfully. He’s kept us all warm.”

“Ahh yes, he does have a certain affinity for keeping things going.”

“How do you fare William?” Vito asked.

“The other tent was swept away,” William replied in a low tone.

Vito looked away and nodded.

A low whining and hiss slid through the tent. Everyones eyes focused through the wall at the odd sound so alien to what they were used to hearing.

“What is that?” Vito asked.

“Hold breakfast and stay inside!” William called as he sprinted through the flap.

Avi stood outside relieving himself and looking off into the distance. “I think I see something.”

“Get in!” William yelled as he grabbed him and ripped him towards the door.

“Hey! I’m pissin-” William cut Avi off with a hiss and pushed him into the tent. The two fell into a heap and William slid off. “Somethings coming in, and fast, do you hear it?”

The men sat up and, for the first time, reached for weapons. The whining grew louder through the chamber. Sebastien slid out from underneath his sleeping bag and edged near the wall. He hissed and raised a hand demanding silence.

William held his breath and waited. His heart pounded in his ears. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound. It was coming in from the south and was definitely coming closer.

“The shelters are coated to prevent heat transfer and should offer no more reflection to a scan than a rock,” said Sebastien softly. He slid a hand onto the tent wall caressing it softly.

“They could save us!” called out Grue.

“Shut up!” Sebastien snapped back.

Grue emerged from his sleeping bag and began to crawl forward with Private Nur close behind. Berry and James moved cautiously behind.

“Don’t be stupid!” William hissed. “Stay!”

“Damn you! We’ll freeze to death!” Grue clawed himself forward.

Tero and Xan leaped onto Grue but Nur continued closer. His hands clawed into his webbing as he surged closer to the door. Closer to William.

“Nur, get back,” William stated through gritted teeth.

“It could be a rescue team!” Nur yelled. His fingers fumbled and dropped a small smoke beacon. He stooped down to scoop it up.

William drove a knee forward into Nur’s chest, connecting heavily with a deep thud. Nur pursed his mouth and drooped onto the floor gasping. William grabbed the beacon and slipped it into his pocket. Corporal Berry and Daryll James both stopped moving and watched the door in silence.

“If we miss this trip out…” Berry began to say but stopped before finishing the rest. His eyes were dark and simple in intention.

William stared back and listened to the unknown visitor.

“VTOL, an old one,” Sebastien said quietly.

Eduardo nodded with closed eyes. “Rotors need balancing, is not Xeno enhanced me thinks.”

William wanted to open the door, he wanted to peek out and see what was outside. Was it really rescue? The answer came in a low burst.

The dull sound of shelling from a heavy caliber autocannon silenced everyone. The shelling paused a moment and continued in a different tone, a different direction. It paused again and the whine moved further before the rhythm of violence began anew.

William looked to Sebastien who shrugged in reply. The eyes of all the men were on William. Grue had ceased struggling on the floor and lay in silence. Nur finally caught his breath in shallow bursts. A look of violence was in his eyes as he stared upwards at William.

William ignored him and strained to listen to the dimming sound of the attacker. More shots echoed out into the crisp air before silence returned. The whining grew louder and the walls shuddered. It was coming closer.

Nur began to raise himself up off the floor. William slid his hand onto the cool frame of the pistol and drew it out in a smooth motion. The crisp black barrel pointed downwards at Nur.

Nur paused and relaxed himself onto the floor.

The whining was on top of them, harsh and grating. The tone changed and it slid away growing dimmer. The whine turned into a hum and finally into the silence they had awoken to.

William released the breath he was holding and returned the pistol to his pocket. His eyes drifted down to Nur. “Well, I think that settles it.”

Nur nodded slowly and bitterly, “Yes, I think it does.”

William creeped out into the bright chill air. The nearest dropcap was split open and smashed apart. A thick smoke drifted in the distance from multiple points. Sebastien emerged and stood by his side.

“Hmm,” Sebastien said with a shrug. “Is old, not even last generation, we haven’t used autocannons in 30 years.”

William nodded. “Whoever it is doesn’t like us, that’s all I need to know.”

More men emerged and watched the horizon in silence. The moment set in that they were truly on their own not only in a barren wasteland, but on a hostile planet with zero support.

William stepped back inside and walked to where Eduardo was adjusting the reactor. “Could you go and see Vito? We need a way to keep a wounded man warm.”

Eduardo nodded, “Si, Si.”

William began to turn and looked to the rear of the room. Nur, Grue, James and Berry all stood staring at him. He returned the gaze before the men turned away. He watched a moment more and walked back into the chill.

CHAPTER FOUR

Struggle

The camp spread out and dug. They dug through ice packed like gravel. They searched for the collected sleds and supplies. The storm had slammed the sleds away, though a few were found nearby. One was found, oddly enough, standing straight up like a needle on the horizon.

All eyes watched the horizon and strained to listen. The mystery attacker seemed to be gone south, the way they were going. They combed the strafed wreckage but found only another shrapnel scarred lid for a sled.

The wind shifted and brought the acrid smoke from the wreckage to the camp. Aleksandr and Kerry stopped the lashing. “What’s tha smell?” Kerry asked. “Meat,” Aleksandr replied. They quickly finished working and scuttled inside.

The wind relented, though the chill behind it was fierce. Each group lashed supplies with electrical cable and quickly retreated to the relative warmth of the tent. Every movement brought scant warmth. William began to worry about the journey.

Eduardo and Vito shuffled between the two tents and found William warming chapped fingers near the coil.

“William, we may have a solution,” Vito said. He nodded to Eduardo.

“We can use the reactor and a sheet of plating as a resistive heater,” Eduardo said slowly. He nodded to himself and spread his hands out. “Then they lay on top.”

“Good man! Will it get too hot?” William asked.

“Ahh, well, we can regulate the reactor, but it is still a good deal of power, but it’s all we have,” Eduardo replied.

“How much weight?”

Vito looked to Eduardo. “Another hundred kilos or so,” Vito replied.

“Hmm, that’s unfortunate,” William said as he slid his semi-dry mittens on.

“I ain’t pulling it,” Grue hissed as he walked past. Berry smirked as he followed.

“I will,” Sebastien stated. His tone was simple, but firm. Berry bared his teeth in a fake smile.

William peered over his shoulder and nodded, “We all will.”

“We will have three on that sled, Tik, Von Hess, and Squire,” Vito said.

“Will you be ready to move in the morning?” William asked.

Eduardo smiled confidently, “We’re ready now, just need to swap the leads off of the coils.”

“Right, we’re leaving as soon as the tents are down tomorrow,” William replied.

The pair walked back out as Eduardo spoke of the reactor adjustments to be made. William watched them and clapped his mitts together. The coils twanged. They would try tearing down both tents, moving, and setting them back up well before sundown. He turned and looked to Grue and Berry. The factions were emerging.

The survivors took to carrying weapons and staring south. They had no desire to remain, dead or alive, on that barren plain.

An inventory was taken of weapons. They had 7 sidearms, 25 CR-9 rifles, and a single Beretta multi-point launcher. The slabs of caseless ammunition were the only thing abundant. A case of filament-wound Chilean grenades finished out the mix. The nanite coated wires would slice anything that the shrapnel contacted with. Though if they were found by another VTOL there was nothing they could do.

The air of anticipation was about the tent as the night settled. The walls of the tent cracked and creaked as the cold settled. Ice crystals rasped against the outside as a slight breeze rose. None spoke of it, but all feared another storm.

William lay awake and stared up at the dim lightband above him. Every day the lights seemed to grow dimmer. He slid his hands onto his knee and felt the flesh hot and painful. It didn’t seem to be infected, he thought it was too cold for that, but it still hurt like hell. His eyes drifted closed and a fitful chilled sleep finally took him.

The knife like crispness of the morning pierced through even the sleeping bag shawls. The men huddled outside of the tent and watched as it stooped down as if in prayer. Finally it deflated and they moved quickly to roll it. The material was stiff and recoiled back before finally being lashed down.

The men fanned out before the sleds. Each sled had a set of dull black conductors tied to the front. The four sleds were pulled by men hitched like oxen. The snow near the camp had been packed down and the sleds pulled well. Once they had traveled a few hundred meters the rate slowed. The forward edges dug down and had to be lifted and set back on track.

The snow was deceptive. In some spots it was stiff and made a fine grip. In others it was soft like sugar sand and took tremendous effort just to remain standing.

Matty Kerry was the first man to sit down and cry in despair. The cold was relentless in its assault. They heaped him next to the wounded, lashed tightly and not complaining.

Sebastien plodded on, each foot planted and shoved before the next drew forward. Stomp. Plant. Shift. Pull.

Hunger gnawed at them. To stop was to freeze. The dim rise they came from slowly disappeared behind another featureless hill. The landscape was different yet still the same.

William watched the men around him. Heads were hunched down as feet stomped forward. They only paused to adjust the sleeping bags. The forward progress was in halted motions as sleds became stuck and men tired. At the end of the day they made good progress on the leeward side of a ridge. The downward slope let the sleds glide gently without catching.

They made camp and watched as the tents rose slowly. Men stumbled about like drunkards as they took turns hammering in the stakes. The sled with the wounded was covered in men soaking up what little heat it offered. They began to stream inside even before the walls were fully inflated.

Eduardo shivered in silence with white, frost burnt, hands to regulate the reactor. His index fingers shook and wavered with every tap. The eyes around the room all greedily focused on his movements. The coils began to hum that mournful hum and the men relaxed. Soon snow was melting and more gruel was being made.

“That went better than expected eh Mr. Grace?” Avi said. He chewed down the gruel of ration bar and tepid water as he awaited the response.

“Yes, yes it did,” William lied. He guessed the progress at less than 10 kilometers. By Eduardo’s reckoning they had four more days at that rate. He didn’t know if they had four days in them.

Avi sucked down the rest of the gruel and smiled with grit covered lips. His eyes drooped and in minutes he slept.

William watched Avi, and most of the others do the same. He envied them as he stood. His legs burned. His calves were tight like burnt twine. He hobbled out the door to check on the wounded.

The men had split up evenly between the two tents, but all the wounded were kept together. Everyone feared the winds culling another tent.

William stood before the thick plate sled. Men had eyed the warm sled coveting what it had while they trekked. Men who would lay down their lives courageously now were jealous over the slightest benefit. He knew it because he felt it too.

The snow squeaked with every step. It had settled since it fell. He paused and peered to the horizon. The sun burnt dimly cradled between the horizon and the low clouds. His nose burned and he continued inside.

“Come. Sit,” Crow called to William.

William walked slowly and sat across from him. Vito was seated back-to-back with him. His head hung forward and he snored lightly.

“What did you think of the day?” William asked softly.

“Do you really want to know?” Crow replied.

William nodded, “Always.”

“Is too slow. One man was carried today, tomorrow it will be more,” Crow sighed.

“Nothing more we can do.”

“No, I suppose not. But does not make it easier.”

William nodded.

Crow looked up, “Lead them.”

William looked around the room with guilty eyes. “I’ve never done this before,” he pleaded quietly.

Crow leaned forward and tapped Williams chest. “Lead from there.”

William sighed and stripped off his mittens. The tips of his fingers were a sickly gray. He cupped his hands and exhaled into them.

“Are you really from Farshore?” Crow asked.

William nodded and exhaled again. A slight mist of frosty air wisped through his fingers. “I was.”

“Yes. Was.” Crow waited silently.

“I don’t remember much, I was young when it happened. I can remember being hungry all the time. The camps were not nice for a child.”

“How…” Crow began to ask.

“How did I survive the burning? I don’t remember exactly. My father stuck me on a transport off I think,” William sighed. “They thought they had won, but then they burned them somehow. I didn’t know until years later, my mother didn’t tell me.”

“She survived too?” Crow asked with raised eyebrows.

William nodded, “They were separated, she lived in Montreal.” He deflected more questions. “And you?”

“Turkey,” Crow nodded. “Grew up so poor that even stealing food was difficult, I left when I could, learned to read on a cargo hauler, and then came to the Army.”

“Volunteer?”

“Food. When you don’t have it… That pit inside, it burns you,” Crow said. “So I joined once the cargo job was finished. I was hungry.” Crow smiled. His dark eyes sparkled.

William smiled and nodded.

“Even this is more food than I grew up with. For now at least.” He added quietly, the smile disappeared.

“Ever been in a situation like this?”

“No. Not exactly. I deployed twice. Incursions,” he nodded. “One was against some fanatics that locked down a grav point, the other to enforce the Covenant. That one was bad.”

“How so?” William leaned forward.

“They signed, but dumped on the government, booted em out and burned the papers. So we came in to restore the papers. We didn’t care who ran the place, as long as they followed the papers.” Crow slid up his sleeve and showed a smooth scar, dark and taut. “They signed eventually, but we had some rough times.”

“Those papers…” William whispered.

Crow missed the cue. “Was an old colony, set in their ways. Back when anyone with enough money could buy a way off planet.” Crow caught himself.

The wind whispered behind them in concert with the expanding and contracting fins. The light of the room was barely enough to reflect off their eyes.

“Listen Grace, there are men who lead, and men who are led. You may be young, but rank alone isn’t what has kept you here, you’ve got that…” Crow stopped and rubbed his hands together in thought. “Presence, presence of command. Ask of us, and lead in front.”

William sat in silence and stared at the space between them. He didn’t feel like a leader. He felt no presence. But he didn’t feel overwhelmed. Command be damned, for now it was survival.

“Are we going to get through this Sergeant Crow?” William asked. He raised his eyes to Crows.

“You tell me Mr. Grace,” Crow replied with hard eyes.

William gave a single crisp nod. “Yes.”

The two men sat and listened to the heating coils sing. William fell asleep quickly as the days travel finally overwhelmed him.

Sebastien listened with his eyes closed and watched the diagnostics flare across his vision. The shoulder was still a mess but for the most part all those nanoscale machines were coping quite well. Times like this he wondered why everyone just didn’t get full nanite sets. Then he remembered the loss, that itch of being known and apart.

He’d heard the Midshipman mention Farshore once before but this time it caught him. That place changed everything. Twenty years ago. He felt old.

“Aren’t you cold Sir?” Private Aleksandr asked with chattering teeth.

Sebastien turned his head slightly and debated just ignoring him. “No, I’ve got a reactor implanted.”

“What do you feed it?”

Sebastien pictured a tiny stove in his chest. “Thorium fuel. Nanite blocks. Occasionally tungsten.”

Aleksandr nodded knowingly. “Is good.”

Sebastien smiled a slight smile and nodded. “Yes, I guess it is.”

“Why aren’t you leading this sir?”

Sebastien clicked his tongue and looked up to the lightband. “Private, I’m a Warrant Officer not a Command officer. Mr. Grace has the command. If he requests my assistance I’ll be happy to provide information.”

“But-”

“No. No buts,” Sebastien replied.

“They don’t trust em,” O’Toole said.

Sebastien nodded. “Something like that.”

Aleksandr snorted. “Trust you? Why wouldn’t they?”

“They’re afraid he’d lead us normal men into the maw of hell,” O’Toole said. His tone was not spiteful, but reflective.

Aleksandr looked between the two men.

Sebastien looked into nothingness. He could think of no way to explain it. Bone was no match for alloy, but the spirit…

O’Toole rolled over into a ball and went to sleep.

Aleksandr looked to Sebastien. “Hmph. I’d follow you.”

Sebastien didn’t reply. A part of him wished he’d walked into the white. Another part worried how he’d get them out of the maw. He slept and dreamed of his youth.

The morning came quickly. The containers of melted snow were soon topped with ration bars which sunk into the thawing soup. Each man scooped out his share in a carbon fiber ration cup.

Vito sipped his breakfast. William sat down and drank deeply.

“And how did you sleep?” Vito asked.

“I’m not sure I did. It felt like I closed my eyes and opened them again eight hours later,” replied William.

Men around them nodded in agreement.

“I dreamed I was on a boat.”

“A boat?”

“It was nice, it was warm, but a shark kept poking me.”

William smiled slightly and wondered if he was entering into a joke.

“Then I realized the shark was Sergeant Crow jabbing his elbows into me,” Vito called out over his shoulder.

Crow snorted and called back, “He snores!”

William was the first to venture out of the tent. The sky was a dim orange with a tinted fog basking above them. Crystals of ice had settled onto the tents. He stood in silence. The silence was so complete that he had to hold his breath, just for a second, to truly feel it.

They broke camp as they had before. Kerry walked slowly to William and stood by his side. William could sense his guilt.

“Could I get your help please Mr. Kerry?” William asked through chattering teeth.

“Sir?” Kerry replied shyly.

“My knee aches like you’d not believe. Would you help me pull on the sled with Sebastien?” asked William.

Kerry turned and looked to Sebastien who was kicking the heavy sled free of the morning ice. “With him?” Kerry asked, surprised.

William smiled, “Yes, with him.”

Kerry watched Sebastien slide the sled forward and held Eduardo hook up the leads. “He doesn’t need my help.”

“That’s where your wrong, think he can do it all on his own? He’s not invincible, just tough.”

Kerry looked back to William and nodded. “I’ll help.”

“Good man! Go and give him a hand moving the wounded, we’ll start soon.”

Vito walked over and stood next to William. “I see what you did there.”

“Oh?” replied William.

“Pair the weak with the strong without ruining his morale.”

“Maybe,” William smiled back.

The shelters were bound once more to the makeshift sleds. The men stood shivering as the final bindings were crossed and began moving south.

The anticipation of arriving somewhere closer was tempered by the great unknown of what exactly awaited. Heads were kept low, arms tucked in close, feet tromped step by step. At every rise eyes looked upwards as the hissing of the sleds followed behind. Every rise brought the same unending field of occasional debris punctuated by a wind sculpted rock.

The moment the sun peaked they stopped and stood in a huddled mass. They were coated in a light mist like a herd of yak. A quarter of a bar of rations were handed out to each man. They stood in silence with the frozen chunk thawing in their mouthes. The silence was only broken by a shifting foot in the crusty snow.

As suddenly as the storm had raged a few days before the air began to warm. They turned and faced south where the slightest breath of air slid along the snow. Warm air. Men took out the frozen ration bars and smiled at each other. Gloves came off, just for a moment, and men held out hands in the strangely warm breeze.

“What exactly is this?” William asked to no one in particular.

“I’d gather that as the weather shifted a warm front followed behind that storm,” Vito said before popping the ration bar back in.

The crust of the snow slowly began to soften. It was a short lived victory. The misery of sliding a sled on warm snow is unmatched. The upper crust changes into something closer to mashed potatoes. The snow grew sticky, it clumped, it packed into dense balls. Sleds had to be lifted and heaved regularly. Now they were wet.

The most devious thing about it though was that beneath that upper layer of soft wetness was granular, hard, cold snow. Every step would punch through the soft wetness and slide into a granular zone that would stick to the wet pants and boots. The fatigue mounted and tempers flared.

Grue slapped down the electrical cord and slapped his arms against his hips. “Fuck this! Fuck it!” He kicked, and screamed at nothing, at everything.

Williams legs ached, burned, and were cold and stiff all at once. He knew if they stopped, even for a short while, they’d have to set up camp and fast. “Move! Grab that rope and pull!” he shouted at Grue.

“Fuck you!” Grue stabbed a finger in Williams direction. “Just fuck! You!”

William leveled his eyes. “Everyone start moving.” He pulled the cord taut. The sled moved as everyone else pulled with it. He turned and watched as Grue tantrumed in the wake. He tugged angrily and set himself to moving. If they stood they died.

William looked behind him. The sled was moving, Grue was hunched over like the rest with his lips fluttering silently as he heaved and grunted. He caught Berry’s eye who peered coldly. William tightened his grip and continued to pull. He had made a mistake, the wedge was growing.

Berry’s leg ached and throbbed as the wet snow froze against his soaked pants. The fool Grue stood beside him and acted like toddler. He stopped and waited and watched as the sleds around him moved. The ration bars were like gold resting against his heart.

“Shut up,” he snapped.

“My hands,” Grue said as he flexed his fingers back and forth.

The sleds moved forward and he was left with Nur and Grue. “Turn around,” he said to Grue.

Grue turned slowly and faced him. “Why?”

Berry slapped him in the face with his sopping wet glove. “You fucking pull. This world of shit is going to end, but you need to work with me, need to trust me.”

Grue slipped down onto his knees and looked with a blank face into the crust.

“Stand up,” Berry said. “I said stand up.”

Grue looked up with broken eyes and stood slowly.

Berry stuck his clammy cold fingers into his jacket and withdrew one of the ration bars. “Eat.” He handed it to Grue.

Grue looked down at the bar and stuffed it into his mouth. He snatched a glance at the others and wolfed it down.

Berry nodded to Nur and handed him a bar. “Eat. I said I’d take care of you right?”

“Where?” Nur asked.

“Never let a catastrophe go to waste.”

The final rise of the day brought a surprise as the dropcap containing the striders came into view. The crumpled shell looked like the rest except for the metallic skeletons locked onto the outside. During a drop they would be released by explosive bolts and scatter around the capsule. Now they hung limp and wrecked like broken marionettes.

The capsule had some damage from the VTOL. Cratered holes pockmarked one edge. Blasts on the inside were far more destructive. The entire mass was a shrapnel cut mess of sharp edges and bent steel.

They set camp within sight of the capsule but not nearby. They were fearful that the VTOL would return. Men could barely stand as the hypothermia slowly crept in. Feet acted as radiators, slowly seeping warmth through wet boots and pants back into the cold. Everyone not setting up the tent sat, or tried to lean, on the heated sled.

William found Eduardo sitting on a lone sled looking at the wreck of the capsule. Snow had drifted on the leeside, it looked sad and forlorn. He stood in silence next to Eduardo for a moment.

“Is anything left?” asked William?

Eduardo was silent.

William waited an uncomfortable few seconds. He looked over to make sure Eduardo was awake. His eyes were closed but his lips moved slightly in the dimming light. Eduardo prayed.

Behind him the tents grew and the men entered. The reactor was disconnected and hauled inside by Sebastien. O’Toole, Eduardo’s assistant, followed closely behind with a heating fin cradled in his arms. The men streamed in behind as if following the crucifix to mass.

“Maybe,” said Eduardo. He stood slowly and brushed off his pants.

William looked over at Eduardo. He never noticed how very small he seemed, even in the heavy clothing.

“The first time I saw snow was with my Papa, on the edge of the Pyrenees. I said to him, ‘Papa, why do the hills have hair like Grandpa?’.” He tucked his hands under his arms. “It seemed so magical, that the hills had white hair. I wanted to touch it to see, but it was too far.”

William smiled. The wind began to bloom as the dying light crossed the horizon. “We’ll go look in the morning.”

Eduardo was silent. His eyes stared at the cold capsule.

The two turned and walked in silence back to the tents. The night passed with the same routine. The heating coil pinged and twanged with men barely able to sleep. Wet clothes thawed in the tent, but never warmed enough to dry.

Sleep came in fits. One man would stir in a coughing fit. Everyone else would would toss and turn and be reminded that they were not only cold and tired, but wet as well. The only thing that burned was the ache in their legs and backs. Though the cold still gnawed at empty stomachs.

The word whispered in the tent was two days. Two more days. Only two more. Two more days of wet slop filling boots. Two more days of ice building on toes. Two more days of soggy pants. Two more days of hunger that sat like a cold rock.

The next day they scoured the strider capsule but found nothing of use. The VTOL had paid a visit and given the same welcome as the other capsules had received. The striders themselves were wrecks, mangled shadows of what they once were. Von Hess stood in silence, ignoring his wounds, and looked lost.

The weather firmed the snow in the morning, or at least it seemed to. The top turned into a raspy crust with a frigid core. Every step was painful as the crust scraped the leg. Each step brought them closer to the sea, but each step dropped the essential core temperature a fraction. Hypothermia was coming.

William stressed through the sticky snow. The electrical cord numb in his hands and burning on his shoulder. The pull went in spurts as each man took a step and the others had to bear down harder. He didn’t remember it like this before. They were growing weaker.

He looked down to see a jacket laying in the footprints before him. The day had warmed, but not nearly enough to warrant stripping a jacket. His eyes followed the trail and saw a shirt beyond it. He squinted. Kwesi stood off to his right. Shirtless, no gloves, no hat, and he was working at his belt.

“What’s he doing?” William said.

“Shit,” Vito replied. He dropped the cord and trudged forward as quick as he could.

William called out to the others and sprinted behind Vito. His legs felt light and free, other than the burning patch on his knee. The snow crunched and cracked. He stumbled as he broke through the crust.

Vito reached Kwesi first. The mans skin, ebony and smooth, almost had a blue gloss to it. His eyes were dull and glassy. Vito grasped his arm and pulled it away from his trousers. Kwesi was trying to remove his pants.

“Warm. Burning up,” Kwesi called out in a stupor. He pushed Vito back into the snow and fumbled with his hands.

“Kwesi, stop it man, you’ll freeze to death,” William called as he pushed forward and grabbed onto Kwesi’s arm. Even through the mittens he could sense the cold.

Kwesi bumbled and spun his body slamming William back into the snow. Vito was on his feet and had his arms wrapped around Kwesi’s torso. Kwesi thrashed forward and back knocking Vito back to the ground. William pounced forward and tackled Kwesi. Before he could get a grip Kwesi had crawled away.

Aleksandr and Crow rushed into the fray and pinned him onto the ground. Xan followed behind clutching a sleeping bag. Kwesi thrashed and howled. The men grasped arms that flailed and legs that quaked. A thin white spittle stuck to his lips and his eyes rolled back into his head.

Xan ran forward and draped the sleeping bag over Kwesi. Arms gripped him tight that wrangled him into the center of the sleeping bag. His head snapped back and connected with Crow.

Crow stumbled backwards clutching his nose. Blood shot out onto the glare white beneath him. He tossed a curse in a language none spoke.

William pushed into him again and gripped Kwesi’s head tightly. “Lay him down!” William called out. The group slowly lowered the rigid Kwesi down. Kwesi’s legs found purchase and thrust upwards but his energy was running low. He moaned in the sleeping bag.

“Get a tent up!” William called over his shoulder.

“Eduardo! Come! Bring the heated sled,” Vito called to the rest of the group. He began to strip his jacket off.

“What are you doing?” William asked.

“We need to warm him. Now,” said Vito.

William turned and saw the remaining men stumble forward and pull the heated sled. The sled with Berry and his crew stood and watched.

Vito knelt down and slid himself against Kwesi. He sucked in the air through clenched teeth. “Hooo! He’s cold.”

Eduardo helped Von Hess off of the sled and the group cradled Kwesi in his place. Vito crawled in next to him. They heaped sleeping bags on top of the pair. The only sound was the clicking of the steel. A slight breeze, barely warm and tinged with humidity, slid against them.

He looked south and began to worry. The coast seemed so far. Another good day of marching, or so he hoped. A snow dimpled hill rose between him and the south. A slight haze smudged the horizon.

The tent rose as it had before, but slower. Each day it seemed to crinkle a bit more and strain as it rose in the air. The reactor was unhooked and powered back up to the fins. The cooling fin sang as the men huddled around it. The only other sound was the grumbling from their stomachs.

Crow sat in the corner clutching the evenings rations like a miser. The day stretched on as men shifted and rolled in sleeping bags never finding rest. The hunger became unbearable. Everyone’s eyes shifted between Crow, William, and the thrashing body of Kwesi. His core finally warmed enough that the shivering and pain began.

The rations were handed to each man. No one trusted another man to pass his share. Eyes pierced Crow as he sliced each frozen bar and broke it against his knee. Crumbs were pressed against cracked lips. Each calorie was devoured. No one paid attention to the man raging in his sleeping bag.

Kwesi had survived, but now they had one more invalid to tow.

CHAPTER FIVE

Water

The sun rose a pale shade of orange over a mist shrouded horizon. The hills had browned and grown wet as the warm air pushed from the south. Directly above was the barest hint of blue seen through a shroud of fog. A slight wind stirred the currents and paid no mind to the men toiling below.

What had been a steady pace was now agony with moments of despair. A muddy trail was testament to the toil. It was rough, dimpled, and scored with ridges of thawed mud.

Each sled was covered with the invalid and sick. The pace of those behind was stilted in moments of serenity as the sleds would glide before suddenly halting in the mud. The invalids would be dismounted and all would shift and push to raise the front edge enough.

Leduc seemed to be at the front of every sled the moment it stuck and caught. His head was bare.

William watched in disbelief as he could barely stand. His legs burned. His lungs burned. His stomach burned. Though he began to wonder about his knee, it no longer burned.

“Mon ami,” Leduc called. He walked closer to William deliberate in his motions.

“Corporal, you should take a break,” William replied feeling the despair and futility weigh on him.

“Ahh no! Once we get to the sea…” Leduc drifted his voice off and stared south. He nodded and smiled at William. His hands gripped the mud caked leading edge of the sled and lifted it out of the mire. He gave a tilted nod and tightened his grip.

“You don’t stop do you?” William replied

William grasped the cord and stood beside Kerry. Kerry stood thinly and stared at the ground with blank eyes. He barely held the cord.

“No.” Leduc grunted as he heaved forward on the cord. The sled edged forward an inch and broke free of the suction. The second heave moved it a foot. The goal was a band of snow slowly melting a few yards away.

William flexed his fingers with every tug. The snow was tantalizing and pure just a few more feet away. He looked behind and watched others shamble waiting for more snow. Sebastian stood alone and plodded forward with a sled of supplies behind him. What they’d have done without the augmented Marine he didn’t know.

A few more heaves brought the edge into the snow. William helped Kerry sit as Leduc walked back to the other sleds in silence.

“Take a break, really, you’ll wear yourself out,” William called.

Leduc turned with a sparkling smile. “Ahh, but no, I can help.”

William shook his head in disbelief. “How can you go on? You’re like Sebastien.”

“It is the French eh?” Leduc replied. He stopped and watched Sebastien a moment. “I used to run.”

“Races?” William asked.

“No, not exactly. I helped-” Leduc rubbed his black stubbled chin a moment. ”-liberate certain goods.”

“A thief?” William asked.

“Ahh, not exactly, it was a matter of perspective.”

“The judge didn’t share your perspective?” Kerry asked quietly.

Leduc shrugged and smiled. “See you at the next mud hole.”

The sled skidded on the snow and was feather light compared to the drag of the mud. William stumbled forward. He focused on each step and tried to keep the circulation going to his wet, cold hands.

“Oh! Look at that!” Kerry said. He dropped the rope suddenly and stumbled a few steps ahead.

William caught the full weight and pulled a step before looking up. He shielded his eyes as the sun had finally grown out of the morning haze. It sparkled upon a leaden sea dotted with white ice chunks a few miles away. Between him and the water lay twisted wreckage. They had found the debris field of the Light Drop Carrier Lawrence.

As each sled came forward the men stopped and stared out at the sea. The debris field sparkled just as the waves cresting out on the sea. The ridge was a high water mark from some prehistoric tide.

William pulled down the decline barely controlling the sled. Kerry stumbled and rolled down the hill covering himself in mud. William finally gave up and let the sled skid itself down until it wedged into the mud.

Avi scrambled down a section of gravel pumping his legs wildly before finally tumbling head over heels and landing at the bottom. He stood upright and grinned.

The sled with the heavily wounded proved more difficult. They led it down slowly, holding the tension in the cords as each stilted step lowered it down. Von Hess clutched onto the bundle while Tik sat on the upper edge. The last unconscious survivor, Squire, was lashed along the side.

The lower plateau was nearly snow free. Scattered drifts, soft and slushy, were scattered along the plain to the sea. Though of more interest was the debris.

All before them was scattered pieces of alloy, steel, and mangled machinery. Occasionally something would be recognizable. A chair sat on three legs. They slogged through the field. The goal was still the sea.

William felt relieved to be near the goal. The debris field had him curious and hopeful. There was a lot left. More than he could have hoped for. A dimpled and crushed fuel tank caught his eye. Cut the top edge off, he thought, and you’ve got a boat.

The pace slowed even more as they stopped and poked at the wreckage. William found himself nudging every bit of wreckage he saw. He started to make a list in his head but found it futile after seeing everything and anything.

“Grace! Hey! Look at this!” Avi hollered across the plain.

William squinted to see Avi waving a toilet seat over his head. Tero and Kwesi were standing near a plastic and steel wall holding a single steel toilet.

He grunted onwards with Kerry straining beside him. Xinhu stumbled behind them with dull eyes. He rode when possible but the pace was so slow now that he took stilted steps. William wanted to stop. The sun was racing lower, but they were almost at the sea. He could feel the tangy freshness in his nose and the back of his mouth.

Farshore. It came back to him just for a moment. He remembered the sea and the taste of the fish. The sweet flakiness in his mouth as he stood on the slender dock. His father paid for the herring. It was a cool, gray day, but the sea was steady.

He detoured around a warped section of pipe and found himself facing the sea. He caught his breath in his throat. The shore was dark, shadowed, and covered in gravel tinted red and green. Washed up and half buried in the gravel was the corpses of the crew.

William turned away and looked at the men behind. He gave one more glance to the corpses and turned to help the others. The dead were behind him, he had to focus on the living.

Each sled pulled close and the survivors took in the sight. The waves lapped in dull crashes stirring the corpses in the surf. Night was approaching.

The tents went up at a snails pace. The walls had fully inflated by the time the sun had set and the chill wind flowed down from the northern plateau. They had forgotten, just briefly, what the cold was really like.

“Tero, O’Toole, go get some water,” Crow said. He passed the beaten basin forward.

“Stop. Heyo, Stop,” Vito called.

Tero looked to Crow for an answer.

“What is it Vito?” Crow asked.

“We can’t drink this water.”

“Why not? Salt?” Crow asked.

Vito shook his head. “Bacteria actually.”

“The purifier?” William piped in.

Vito rubbed his chin and nodded slowly. “It should work, yes.”

“How do you know there’s bacteria?” Grue said.

“They came with a terraforming system when it was first colonized. Part of that kit is an engineered bacteria that starts the food chain.” Vito said.

“But why? Wouldn’t that kill the colonists?” Grue replied.

Vito shook his head. “It would, they’re resistant to it.”

“What about things leaking from the wreck?” Aleksandr asked.

Vito shrugged. “I’m not sure on that one.”

“There’s chemicals enough, radiation too I’m sure, but the snow is melting fast here, we’re not going to have much option,” William said. “We’ll melt snow tonight and set up the purifier in the morning.”

Crow nodded to Tero. He stepped outside to retrieve snow.

“What’s the plan now Grace?” Berry said with a spit at the end of the sentence.

William pictured the fuel tank he had seen earlier. “We scour the wreckage and start bringing in whatever is of use. Everything and anything, wire, supplies, anything that still functions. Food especially, if we can find it.”

“Then what?” Berry asked.

“We build a boat.”

Berry snorted through his nose. “Bullshit. There’s no way we can build a boat.”

“There’s enough wreckage here to piece one together. We have insulation, fuel tanks, we can make a pontoon, we can carve out a hull, even make a mast and rig a sail,” William replied. He looked around the room and saw all eyes upon him. “We’re not going to sit and freeze to death, we’ve go to make our move. Everything we need is here.”

“And how will you weld? How will you cut? How do you intend to find tools? There’s nothing here but junk!” Grue said.

“I can work with the metal,” Xinhu said softly. “It won’t be pretty, but I can work it.” His voice gained more confidence as he spoke.

“And just who are you?” Berry asked.

“The man who’s going to make the boat that saves your ass,” Xinhu replied back sharply.

A whistle came from the edge of the tent followed by a laugh. Berry shot a glance around the room but was met with only smiles. The room was filled as both tents ate together. Everyone wanted to lay in the sleeping bags but William had ordered everyone to eat together. They had to maintain a connection besides just the agony and the toil.

Tero came back in without the basin. “Come outside! I see lights!”

William leaped up and sped out the door stuffing the remaining ration bar into his mouth.

It was inky black with a slight light from a small moon near the horizon. A slender silver line etched its way from the moon through the sea. To the left of it winked a dim red light barely touching the horizon. The survivors peered at it.

“What is it?” Selim asked.

“I’ve no idea, is it moving?” William replied.

He strained his eyes and tried to anchor the view. He held his breath and watched. It was moving to the left, but didn’t appear to get any closer.

“Is it an aircraft?” Avi asked.

“Too slow,” Sebastien replied.

The light seemed to ebb and dim before winking out completely. They stood in the cold wind for a minute more and retreated back indoors.

The night sky was cool and damp like a wet blanket. The stars bled through the mist as the warm currents collided with the chilled air. A damp layer or frost collected on the tents.

Sebastien stood outside and stared into the darkness. The light on the horizon had gone but he was curious and wondered if it would reappear. The standing felt good. His legs were stiff. The work as a beast of burden took its toll. He wondered how the regular men could continue on.

The thought startled him. Was he so different that he’d refer to them as regular men? The wind kicked up. He took one last look out to the inky sea and started back inside.

“Cold sometimes, yes?” Leduc asked.

Sebastien stopped and realized that he had been watched by the diminutive Frenchman with stubbled hair. “On occasion.”

Leduc stepped closer and pointed out to the sea. “I don’t like the water.”

“I don’t like freezing to death.”

“You wouldn’t though eh?”

Sebastien remained silent.

“Did it hurt?” Leduc asked in a whisper.

“Did what hurt?”

“When they added the bits of machines. Do they change your dreams too?”

The wind slapped against the tent. Sebastien turned his head and looked down to Leduc. Pleading eyes looked back up at him. The turn of the phrase rolled over again.

“You too?” Sebastien questioned.

“I used to dream the most amazing dreams. Now they are gone,” Leduc said.

“You are augmented?” Sebastien asked with a tone of surprise.

“I found a niche, I could steal what others couldn’t lift.”

Sebastien smiled slightly. “That is a niche.”

“And the Army knows?”

“It’s off the books, minimally invasive, nothing like your package. But yes, they know.”

Sebastien felt the fire of camaraderie spark for a moment and fade into the wind. “No, I don’t dream either,” he lied as he turned and walked back into the tent. His dreams were his own penance.

The following morning a new sense of purpose came to the camp. They now had something beyond an abstract goal. They had something to focus on, something to build.

William awoke groggy and stiff. His knee felt like it was filled with lead, yet strangely warm. He slid a hand into his pants and felt it gently. The edges were hot while the center of the frostburn felt chilled.

“Wake up Grace, you missed breakfast,” Vito said. He handed William a ration bar and a plastic pipe section for a cup. “You feeling well? You look a bit off.”

“I overslept?” William asked. He sipped the chill water. He felt warm, but a bit off.

“A bit, everyone is out searching the wreckage.”

William nodded and finished the cup.

“Oooo,” he said as he stood up.

Vito gave him a questioning look. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just sore.”

Vito nodded and held the flap open.

Outside the sun was warm and the wind nonexistent. Overhead the clouds whipped as they collided against the warmer currents from the south. William raised a hand to his brow and looked out. The snow had melted all around exposing even more wreckage. Men poked, walked, hauled, and slid all around.

William stepped out and took in the shore. Vito walked silently next to him. They passed Kerry carrying a bundle of wires trailing behind him like a dead snake. Xan lugged a large box with a display screen.

“Mr. Grace!” Tero called out as he ran up. He held out a large brown box. It was a giant box of socks.

“I never thought I’d be so excited to see a box of issue socks,” William replied with a dim smile.

“Anymore patches?”

Vito shook his head. “Not yet.”

William nodded. He pried back a metal plate and looked into a sophisticated pumping array. He dropped it loudly and focused on the next bit of wreckage. The pair poked in and out of each mangled piece around. He found himself sitting more often. His knee was both cold and hot all at once.

Sebastien jogged up at an easy lope. “Mr. Grace, do you have a moment?”

William nodded and sat up from an empty methane tank. “Lead on.”

“I’ll keep poking about,” Vito said as he detoured to a hull section.

Sebastien began to run. He stopped seeing that William was having a hard time walking. “Is something wrong?”

William shook his head and set his chin downwards. The pair plodded on until they rounded a black gravel point. His leg ached as they passed the five kilometer mark. Beyond lay even more wreckage and a piece of the spine of the ship.

Sebastien waved his arm in an arc. “It looks like most of it ended in the water, but there’s even more wreckage further down the coast and more back on the plateau here.”

The ships spine was stiff and bent just slightly. The honeycombed core was nearly impossible to destroy. It had to handle the shock of entering the atmosphere and blinking out again a few moments later. A task most starships would crumble under.

“Do you see what’s missing?” Sebastien asked with a slight smile.

“Damn near everything?” William replied.

Sebastien pointed to the end of the spine. “What was latched on there?”

William squinted. His eyes felt warm and scratchy. Then he saw the giant hydraulic clamps. Open. “Oh…”

Sebastien nodded with a wide smile. “The orbital assault pods made it out.”

William looked up for a moment and then back to Sebastien. “But we’ve got no comms.”

“No, well, not yet. If we do we’ve got orbital support.” Sebastien replied with a bit of a cocky grin. “Those little buggers are running silent now, each one ready to slide a nasty little package over the horizon.”

The orbital assault pods were small satellites that carried a payload of ceramic coated warheads. They were fast and designed to live in low orbit for a very brief time. They had enough fuel to keep them on station for a few months. For now they would silently orbit awaiting instructions.

“So what do we need?”

Sebastien nodded and stuck his hands into his pockets. “An orbital commset that works, or a broadcast station somewhere that Xan can tap into.”

William felt a bit better, though he dreaded the walk back. “Well, shall we?”

Halfway back William crumbled. When he opened his eyes next, Vito stood over him cradling his head. The cool water was spilling down his neck as he tried to sip. He burned with fever.

“Doesn’t the Navy get inoculated?” Berry asked.

“Everyone does, for every drop,” Vito replied.

“Then what is it? Some alien bug?” Selim asked.

“I don’t think so,” Vito said.

“What about the patches?” Crow said.

“Maybe, but something doesn’t seem right,” Vito said.

“He was limping,” Sebastien said.

Vito tossed the cup. He slid down Williams pants and recoiled backwards. The skin just above Williams knee was a black dimpled patch of rotting skin. In the center of the wound was a gash like cracked mud. A slight red tint grew on the edges of the crack with a fierce red burning near the skin.

“Sweet Jesus,” Eduardo replied as he sat back and away.

“What is that?” Berry said.

“That is gangrene,” Vito said simply.

William closed his eyes and drifted into darkness.

He dreamed of his father. They were sitting in a tunnel playing with toy horses. The eyes of the horses glittered and rolled as the pair slid them along the dusty floor. Men walked past and saluted his father.

His father spoke, but he couldn’t remember the words. He knew he didn’t like it. He didn’t like the tunnel or the machine that bored into the rock. It was loud. Loud everywhere. The machine went up and out, boring further near the surface. All he could taste was stone.

But still his father came down and they played with the worn horses. Then the sounds stopped and he had to leave.

Berry walked out from the tent and felt giddy with anticipation. He’d been waiting for a moment to seize upon a change of pace. He’d be damned if he was going to follow the fools to the needle. He had his own plans with his own men.

The meaty-sweet smell of gangrene hung in his nostrils. He trekked towards the supply pile and found Grue sorting through wreckage. “Find Nur and James.”

“Why?”

“Because I fucking told you, go!” Berry yelled back. He walked back down towards the second tent and poked his head inside. It was empty, everyone else was in the other tent. He popped the release and watched it deflate slowly. The stakes slid out from the damp soil easily. The wind rustled and lifted it as the last bits of air finally drifted out.

“What are you doing Corporal?” Crow asked. He stood with his arms on his hips bent over slightly at the waist.

“Taking matters into my own hands,” he replied and began to fold up the tent. His heartbeat was racing. This was the critical moment.

“Stand at attention Soldier,” Crow snapped back.

Berry stood slowly, but not to attention. “The Civilians were signed on to the ship, they have no legal contract binding them to any of this. They’ve requested my assistance.”

Crow looked back with a strange look on his face. “It’s called desertion.”

“I’ll not abandon them if they want to go there own way, they requested my help.”

They stood and looked at each other in the wind. Sebastien stepped out and walked over.

“Mr. Villeneuve, we’ve got a deserter.” Crow said.

“No ship, no contract, the Civilians want to go their own way and have requested my help,” Berry said again.

Sebastien looked back and crossed his arms. “I think not.”

Grue returned with James and Nur. The group stood by Berry and listened.

“Grue, James, you signed on to a ship, and with no ship, you aren’t signed up with anyone,” Berry said with a sweep of his arm to the wreckage.

“That’s right!” Grue stammered, out of breath.

Sebastien looked to Crow and back to the tent behind him.

Berry saw the moment and seized it. He reached down and grabbed the handle of the collapsed tent and began to drag it. Grue and Nur grasped on and tugged the awkward bulk.

“Negative,” Sebastien said. “We are not splitting up.”

“This is our right, we’ll split the rations and supplies, but we need a tent,” Berry bartered.

Crow shifted on his feet. “You’ll get no power, find your own damn reactor.”

Berry bared his teeth like an animal in a mock smile. It was agreed and they didn’t even know it, down to only the bartering. “I’ll talk with that Midshipman once he’s awake, we’re just one less thing for you to worry about now.”

Sebastien dropped his hand onto the holster at his side. “Drop the tent.”

Berry continued to drag the bulky mass. Nur and Grue strained while James lagged behind unsure of what to do. “Mr. James, if you please.” He locked his eyes onto James and watched as the quiet man grabbed a corner. “You’re not going to shoot a civilian?”

“No, but I’ll have no problem shooting you.”

Berry released the front of the tent and it dropped slowly. “Is that how it is now Marine? An argument doesn’t go your way so you shoot it?” He stooped down and grabbed the forward edge. “Tell that Midshipman I’ll barter this with him.”

Berry had an audience now. Most of the survivors were watching as the bulky tent moved a few hundred meters away. Sebastien held his hand over the cover of the holster, resting his palm on the top.

Berry turned and gauged the distance before setting it down in a slight bowl. “Alright boys,” he said turning to his crew. “Lets get to work.”

William opened his eyes. The room was dark. The crashing of waves shook the ground beneath him. He could still see the glittering eyes of the horses slowly recede in the darkness. Only a small piece of the light strip gave any light. For the first time he noticed the smell, that rank animal odor from too many men in too small an area.

Gangrene. Could it be? He felt fine. His knee was sore, but the soreness was different. He could feel a patch on his neck. The priceless, precious patches, and he wore one. His fingers danced down his soiled shirt and found a heavy dressing sitting over the top of his knee. He pushed gently and was rewarded with raw pain.

He closed his eyes and listened to the waves as he drifted back to sleep.

William woke as the morning still grew. Around him the men were tossing and turning while one man went outside. William sat up slowly.

“He’s awake!” Avi called out.

The room sprang to life with the sounds of nylon and fabric moving. All eyes were on him. He blushed and felt rather sheepish.

“Vito?” Where’s Vito?” Kwesi asked.

“Outside,” replied a voice.

“Go get him!” Kwesi shouted back.

“He’s pissing, and heard you by now, relax,” Crow said. He climbed out of his sleeping bag and scooted over to William.

“I, uh, well. How long was I out for?” William asked.

Crow smiled thinly. “About two weeks.”

William took a deep breath. “That bad?”

Crow nodded. Others around the room nodded as well. “You had a nasty bit of gangrene, even the nanites couldn’t stop it.”

“So what did you do?”

“We had to do some surgery,” Vito replied as he stepped back into the tent.

William wiggled his toes. He could still feel them. His mind wandered to amputation.

Around the room sat most of the survivors. William looked around and did a quick head count. The room was crowded. Too crowded. Four men were missing, Berry and his crew.

“Where do we stand?” William asked.

Crow ran a hand through the growing stubble. “We’ve found a lot of useful things,” Crow diverted the real answer.

“We’re welding some pontoons onto a piece of decking,” Xinhu replied. His eyes glowed with excitement.

“Supplies? Food?” William asked.

Vito shook his head. “Not really.”

“Someone help me up please. I’d like to see this boat. And I really have to use the bathroom,” William said. Vito and Crow helped him hobble outside.

The snow was completely gone showing mostly bare gravel. The second tent was a few hundred meters away. On the beach basked a set of large fuel tanks with a section of perforated alloy decking on top. Assorted sheeting, pillars, tubes, and struts lay on the beach above the high tide line.

Further down the beach lay a second craft. It was smaller and cruder. Lashings of power wire and plastic tubing held together the tanks. William had a hunch what had happened.

Vito noticed him looking at the other craft. “There was a bit of a legal battle.”

“Legal battle?” William asked. He slid his arms off his supporters and stood gently on both legs.

“Always a lawyer somewhere,” Sebastien replied as he walked out of the tent and began to rummage through a collected debris pile.

“Grue and James are both contractors, signed on to the ship. So they decided no ship, no valid contract,” Vito said.

“What about Berry and Nur?” William asked. It wasn’t unheard of for civilians to leave when the terms weren’t satisfactory. But this was different, it wasn’t like the ship was stuck in repairs.

“Deserters,” Crow spat.

“What do they want?” William asked.

“They want to talk to you about it,” Vito replied.

“But I’ve been unconscious for what, two weeks?”

“Exactly,” Crow said.

“I’m not walking into that mess just yet,” William said. He needed to get a crutch and think for a bit.

The trio slowly moved down the beach to the large shape of the boat. It was tied down with heavy conducting cable and rested on a set of metallic tubing. Xinhu was looking away while a pure white light danced behind. Sebastien dropped a handful of black rods on the ground and walked back onto the rise.

“How are we welding?” William asked, surprised.

“We’ve got the reactor, Xinhu was able to scrounge up some alloy rods and we’ve been arc welding. I tried. It’s tough to do,” Vito said.

“They wanted to weld too, but they don’t know how.” Crow said, looking down shore to the smaller craft.

William looked down the rocky beach. “No bodies,” he mumbled.

“We moved them away,” Crow said.

“How long?” William called out to Xinhu.

Xinhu had his eyes focused away from the camp with his head tilted as if listening to the weld. Behind him the arc crackled and sizzled like tearing paper. His hand twitched and moved down the alloy beam as he caressed the arc into a stream of cohesiveness.

William stood and waited for the crackling to stop before yelling again. Xinhu dropped the rod and walked closer. His eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot.

“How long?” William asked again.

Xinhu went to raise his hands before dropping them to his sides. “A few days, we get the mast up and then string the wires. Maybe another hard day to weld on lashing loops for the gear…” he drifted into thought and looked back to the craft.

Vito pointed to the tents. “We’re going to use the tent as a sail.”

William nodded as he kept his eyes on the tent further down the beach. There wasn’t any activity yet.

“How can I help?” William asked.

“Get some rest for now, you’re in no shape to scrounge for supplies,” Vito scolded.

William smirked. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Just like you judged that gangrene yes?” Vito replied.

William sighed and looked to the tent. “Shall we grab a bite?” He spent the day helping sort through the debris that was brought in. Any device or piece of equipment that seemed to possibly function came into the camp.

Among the highlights for the day was a single flexible tablet that still functioned and a box of freeze dried beans. Normally beans would not elicit much response but at this point any meal was welcome beyond the gritty blandness of the ration bars.

The tent with the disgruntled men was still mostly quiet. A man would emerge from time to time and relieve himself in full view of the loyalists tent. William didn’t miss the imagery of being pissed at. He made his mind up half way through the day. The deserters could go.

CHAPTER SIX

Decisions

Vito shook his head. Sebastien stood with arms crossed and his chin back. Selim and Leduc both argued with their hands as vigorously as with their mouths. The others sat in silence and watched the debate. William decided to inform the others of his decision.

“Enough. My decision stands, they will get a split of the rations and are on their own,” William stated. He could feel the eyes on him.

“It’s a bad idea,” Crow said. He sat on his haunches and rocked from side to side. “They’re going to fuck us.”

“I’m going to go over and tell them how it is. They can come get the share of rations,” William said.

“They don’t deserve it,” Selim said. He shook his finger in the general direction of the other tent.

“I agree, bad idea,” Xan piped up. A mass of wires and circuit boards lay on his lap as he tried to patch together an orbital link up.

Tero nodded in agreement. The other end of the wires sat on his lap as he tried to work on his end.

“We just go, shoot them,” Aleksandr spoke quietly.

William looked to Aleksandr and realized it was what they were all thinking. “No. They get a share and are on their own. This is settled. We’ll be off in another day or two.”

Protests continued as William stood slowly with the alloy crutch. He ignored them and hobbled to the door. “Enough. We’re done with this conversation. Crow, break out a four man share, set it aside from ours and lay it out. Sebastien, Leduc, Kerry, you’re with me.” He set his chin down and pushed himself outside.

He trudged through the uneven ground hobbling the entire way. He never turned to look behind him. He knew they were there. The rations were worrying him. They had enough for a week at the current rate. They were hungry, all the time.

The dark pit of hunger seemed to grow and creep into everything. A man can handle many things with a full stomach, but the slightest insult becomes amplified when he’s hungry. He snaps, he argues, he finds offense in everything and defends against anything. William hoped that the mainland really was south and not another chain of islands.

“I’m here to talk. Come outside,” William called.

Silence came from the tent before a stirring sound came from inside. A voice spoke something. Nur maybe. William looked down to the beach, their boat hadn’t progressed much but looked like it would float.

“What do you want?” Grue called through the wall. His tone was harsh.

“Come outside. I’m not speaking to a tent.” William turned to look behind him and saw that his escorts all had weapons showing. Sebastien looked particularly at ease with a stubby assault rifle strapped to him. He wondered if there were guns inside pointed out at them. He wanted to step back a bit but knew he couldn’t.

Berry stepped outside followed closely by Grue. The two had assault rifles. Berry carried his nonchalantly, Grue looked uncomfortable as he cradled his. “What can we do for you?” Berry asked.

William looked at the weapons. “Send a man over, get your share of the rations. You’re on your own.”

Grue began to speak but Berry raised a hand and silenced him. “There’s only one reactor and one purifier. Which do we get?” Berry asked.

“Neither. You can pump all you want and fill up whatever you bring,” William replied.

Berry shifted his feet. “One or the other, I either want that reactor or I want the purifier.”

“No. You made a choice to leave. Now you’re dealing with the consequences.”

Silence hung heavy. Waves broke slowly near the shore. With each receding wave the boat creaked. William kept his eyes on Berry who was looking into nothing. Grue stared at the four men before him.

“I want a share of the patches left too, and a chance to go through the supplies you’ve recovered,” Berry finally spoke.

“Bullshit,” Leduc spat. “Pick your own gear.”

The tension rose just a bit as everyone unconsciously reacted. Everyone rocked onto toes and prepared to move. William realized he didn’t have a gun anymore. Little use it would be if the shooting began.

William raised his hand. “Done.”

“What?” Leduc said and turned at a quartering angle to the group.

“Are we done?” Berry asked.

“Come get your rations, then we’re done,” William replied. He held Berry’s gaze for a moment and turned. He hobbled slowly through his men back towards the camp.

The other three waited a moment and backed up keeping themselves faced at the tent. Berry laughed and blew them an arrogant kiss. Grue stumbled backwards and caught himself before entering the tent.

William hobbled and kept his head down. Maybe he should have shot them. He deflected the argument from Leduc on the way back, the others kept silent. He had avoided a shootout and would be rid of them soon enough.

“That’s it?” William asked as he stood next to Crow and looked over the rations.

Selim squatted nearby and nodded sadly.

“That’s it,” Crow stated.

A small sealed case sat apart from the rest. The ration bar pile was looking alarmingly thin. And now he was going to give away a quarter of them. Vito dropped a pile of the nanite patches near the case.

Berry came with Grue and Nur. James sat outside the tent with an assault rifle on his lap. Nur grabbed the case of ration bars and the patches and lugged it back to the tent. Berry slowly poked through the pile of wreckage without comment. Grue whispered at him but Berry waved him off.

“We’ll pump in the morning,” Berry said.

The pair turned and walked away. All the eyes in the loyalist camp watched them trudge back.

Crow stood and walked next to William. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t like it either, but we’ll be done with them soon,” William replied.

Crow opened his mouth as if to speak but closed it. He had a knowing look on his face.

William saw it. “What?”

“Hmm, we’ll see.” Crow replied.

Two days. In two days they had stripped half the shelter and rigged it into a sail. The meager pile of supplies stayed close to Crow while non essential gear was lashed to the boat. The night before, the reactor was hoisted into place and the wires ran to the purifier and both sets of heating coils.

Berry had been seen with James working on the smaller boat but the progress seemed stilted. William had thought of going over and telling them they were leaving but decided against it. Instead he went back inside the torn tent. He laid down inside a damp sleeping bag and tried to sleep.

Gunfire racked him awake from a dreamless sleep. The rapid fire burst of an assault rifle lit up one wall of the shelter. A man screamed in pain with a sound like a beaten animal.

William rolled onto his side in the darkness and fumbled to get his bearings.

“Move! Spread out!” Selim hissed as he dashed through the room and ran outside.

Men rushed past William and spread out the door. He realized the imperative was to get out and into cover. The tent was a death trap, one grenade and boom, they were done. He crawled outside without his crutch. After the previous meeting he had remembered the pistol. It was tucked into his jacket.

“Get down dammit, get over here,” Avi whispered to William.

William tried to get himself lower to the ground. He crawled towards Avi’s voice. Hands grabbed him and pulled him behind a frost coated rock.

Firearms opened up around him. He pulled the pistol out and clutched it to his chest. “Who is it?”

“Gotta be Berry,” Avi said.

William felt dread and relief wash over him. He feared they were under attack from the mainland. They could handle Berry. Aleksandr’s words came back to him. Maybe they should have shot them.

“Stay behind me, we’re moving,” Avi hissed as he crawled forward.

The whole area was quiet. There was only the sound of waves sliding against the rocks. William crawled forward listening for the sound of Avi moving in front of him. How the hell could the Marine see? A slight mist began to fall that grew into a steady rain.

Sebastien bellowed out. “Move! They got the boat!”

William cursed and tried to stand. His leg rebelled painfully as the muscles were stiff. He could hear Avi rush forward. Gunfire erupted in front of him. The muzzles flashed towards the waves and darkness. Only the sound of the rain came to him. He was soaked and staring into darkness.

“They got the boat,” Selim said walking past.

William couldn’t see anything in the evening darkness. He didn’t even hear Selim walk up, though that didn’t surprise him in the rain. He shook his head and felt the droplets of icy water run down into his jacket. He felt helpless. “I can’t see.”

Selim grasped him by the elbow and helped him back to the stripped tent. Once inside, the lightstrip gave off enough light that he saw a slim pair of glasses on Selim’s face. The water beaded up and ran off before it could even puddle up.

Men streamed inside slowly.

“Set a watch,” Sebastien called and pointed at Kerry and Kwesi. The two privates walked back into the rain.

“Did we lose anyone? Is anyone hurt?” William asked.

“No, we’ve got a head count. Crow caught them coming in,” Sebastien replied. He slid the glasses off of his face and ran his hand from forehead to chin. He whipped his hand downward slinging the water off.

Crow walked into the room with his head held low. In his right hand was the purifier. He lugged it a step further in and set it down. “They’re going to get thirsty.”

“Crow, how?” William asked.

Crow shrugged. “A hunch.”

“Crow?” William asked.

“Yes?”

“Next time I’d appreciate it if you share your hunches,” William said.

Crow nodded and sat on top of the purifier. “They went to the boat first. I heard them come up from the shore. I thought they’d come at us from the north. I hit someone, and then they fell back.”

“I hope it was that arrogant ass,” Vito spat out as he slid down next to William.

The swells pitched and rolled the boat as the wind shrieked through the electrical cable ropes. The sound of gunfire had died away and now only the wails of a man, shot in the stomach, carried. They sat huddled and soaked peering back to where they came.

“He’s going to die,” Berry said. He wiped water from his face and looked around the sea. There was nothing visible but the heaving swells. He took off the night vision glasses and tucked them into his jacket.

Grue shook his head and clutched at the rigging. The lines were intertwined with his legs and arms. He moaned with every swell. “Give him a patch,” he spat.

“Just give him one, he’s gonna pull through,” James said. He had wedged himself into the space between two struts.

Berry listened to Nur howl. The bullet had passed through his abdomen. It was the sort of wound that you didn’t get better from even if the bleeding stopped. He’d be damned if he was going to waste one of the patches on him.

“Just one, just give him one,” Grue pleaded through clenched teeth.

Nur howled as the boat dropped into a swell. Every shift and motion brought even more livid howls.

Berry felt his way along a line and crouched next to Nur. He slid out a patch from his jacket and paused with it. It was so dark that he couldn’t see the tip of his nose. The man below him was a dead man, he just hadn’t died yet. “He’s not going to make it.”

“What are you going to do?” Grue asked.

“Get over here,” Berry called.

“I can’t see,” Grue replied. His voice was a squeak.

“Follow the fucking lines,” Berry yelled back.

James crawled up next to Berry. Grue whimpered with each swell.

“Roll him, we’re gonna roll him,” Berry said.

James worked his way down to Nur’s feet. Berry pushed on the shoulder and fought to roll him over. The muscles were taut under his hands. “Get behind his legs, push!”

The pair scrambled to push the curled form forward into the darkness. The wails turned into pained screams. Frantic fingers latched on to whatever could be held. The storm grew and the three man wrestled.

“Don’t!” Grue pleaded.

“Push dammit!” Berry yelled as they neared the edge. A taut lifeline flexed and buzzed with the rise of each wave. He pushed the shoulders and head underneath the lines.

Nur thrashed against his fate and in a swift blow knocked James off his feet and into the water below. The inertia turned his body and he slid head first into the water. The screams stopped.

“Is it done? Is it done?” Grue asked from across the boat.

Berry looked out into the dark. Rain pelted his cheeks. “It’s done.”

The darkness swallowed the boat. It was at the mercy of the winds.

The tent that Berry and his crew had stayed in was gone. A bare spot in the rocks showed where the boat had lain. The other, smaller, boat still lay on the shore.

William stood on the crutch and looked out to the sea. Nothing. He cursed his stupidity. He had laid awake through most of the night replaying the days events. He should have set a simple watch, one man, and that was all it would have taken. Gravel crunched and he turned.

Aleksandr stood and looked out to the sea. “We should have shot them,” he said in his slow Russian drawl.

William turned back to the sea and looked down the shore. The smaller boat sat like a worn out mule. It lacked a single square edge. Every wave made it wriggle and move in a fluid motion. The cords holding it together had already stretched. They needed to weld. To weld they needed a reactor.

William found Eduardo sitting next to Von Hess.

“Eduardo, where did you get the reactor?”

“Eh? Well, I stripped it out of one of the striders.” Eduardo replied.

Selim walked up with Xan and stood silently to the side.

“Is there more?” William asked.

Eduardo hunched forward and ran his hand through his greasy hair. He looked at Von Hess who returned a simple shrug. “Maybe. It looked rough last time we were there. That harrier smucked it good eh?”

William nodded and thought. Two days. No, four days. Two each way. He looked at the men around him. Everyone moved slower and was sluggish, well, everyone except Leduc and Sebastien, but everyone had a breaking point, even those two.

Selim spoke up. “It’s going to take a few days, the boat isn’t big enough.”

Xan nodded. “We can try lashing, but it’s not holding up well. The cable is stretching.”

“I thought it was looking rather floppy,” Eduardo said.

“Eduardo, are you in any condition to make a trip back to the striders?”

“Alone?”

“No, we’ll send a squad,” William replied.

Eduardo nodded and looked tense. “Yes, I will try.”

William began ordering his mind and then realized he couldn’t go. His leg was too weak. He could hardly walk a few hundred yards without the muscles cramping and rebelling. He would be ordering men north, back to the snow and ice, to recover something that shouldn’t have been lost to begin with. Men might die because of his stupidity.

“Selim, who’s in good enough shape to go with Eduardo?” William asked.

“I will go. Maybe Sebastien, or Leduc, Aleksandr, Avi, hmm, Crow too,” Selim said.

“Leduc and Avi too. Take whatever supplies you need, full rations,” William said.

Selim nodded. “Tent?”

“I’m open to ideas,” William said.

The group stood in silence for a moment before William finally walked away. Selim could handle it, he had no interest in saddling him with bad advice. The NCO knew more about moving overland than he did, but he worried.

He found Crow squatting near the shore.

Crow rocked back on his haunches and nodded to William. “Someone was hit about here, there was some blood under the gravel.”

William watched him. Crow was like a hunter following a trail as he squatted low and poked at various rocks. William followed behind as he silently pointed out details and moved towards the water.

“About here they stopped,” Crow pointed to a large boulder with red algae on the back side.

“Then?” William asked.

Crow stood and gestured out to sea.

“How do you know?”

Crow smiled slightly and rested his back against the boulder. “I would have done the same if I were in his shoes.”

“Selim, Leduc and Avi are going out with Eduardo for another reactor.”

Crow nodded.

“Because I fucked up.”

“Follow back far enough and you could blame Jesus,” Crow said dismissively.

“Who?”

“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”

William turned and started to walk away.

“Someones got to take the blame, someone has to lead the way, someone has to fuck up.”

“But people might die.”

“That’s our business, people always die.” Crow turned and walked a few steps down the rocky beach. “Your job is to keep that count as low as possible.”

“And what’s yours?” William called back.

“To help you in your goal,” Crow said before turning and smiling. “and to shoot the other people.”

William smiled and nodded before turning away.

The tent was slit once more and stitched with electrical cord. The piece that remained near the shore was propped up with bent tubing while the piece heading north still had the inflatable rib to give it form. A single sled was loaded and lashed. Tense conversation preceded a brief good bye. Everyone stood in the cool wind and watched them pull North.

They stood and watched as Selim led them over the rise. One of them turned, too far away to distinguish, and gave a wave before disappearing. The crew on the shore stood for a moment before returning to the task before them.

William found the other boat to be a poorly designed and ramshackle affair. He doubted whether Berry had ever intended on launching it. The electrical cord had in some places only been wrapped and not lashed. It was not big enough and that was the first obstacle.

The earlier scouring had found the low hanging fruit, the easy stuff, the close stuff. Now they had to range farther and search harder for less. The pace that they ranged was slow and ponderous. The calorie deficit was particularly difficult.

Kwesi found a pair of oxygen tanks that required the entire crew to toil back. Even Sebastien with his augmentation was sluggish. They had turned from the masters of the stars to plowman without a crop, forever tilling salted soil.

The pile of salvage slowly grew. Von Hess had an eye for organization and broke down each recovery into what was useful. Tik wrapped strands of wire into a coarse rope. An occasional odd item would sit out of the organized areas. A carbon fiber barber chair. The door from an oven with a smiley face sticker on it. Goggles from a microscope. And the favorite of the locals, a poster warning against venereal diseases.

On the fourth day William walked slowly, though faster than before, with Sebastien and Vito up to the rise. They had made as much progress as they could without a power source for more arc welding. Now they needed a reactor.

As soon as they crested the rise the wind attacked. Just the slight elevation gain was enough to focus it. It was humid and soaked them right through their coats. The color of their clothing was now an off shade of brown and red.

They squinted and huddled behind a potato shaped boulder. They could see to the south and watched the sea while sneaking glances north. Nothing came but the wind.

The following day they did the same. And the following day after that. Seven days was the cut off. If they hadn’t returned in seven days the remaining group would begin lashing the boat together as best they could.

They huddled once more behind the mist soaked potato and watched the rain fall in sheets over the sea. Below them eyes gazed upwards. They waited till the end of the day and trudged downwards in the waning light.

The following morning they sat around the dwindling pile of ration bars and ate in silence. William had slept, as best he could, with an aching leg. The mist had crept in through the night and they were all cold and wet.

“At least it’s not the Hun,” Sebastien said absentmindedly.

“You fought the Hun?” Kwesi asked in awe.

Sebastien nodded. “Before the last treaty, they hit Ebony and we came down into the streets. Never thought they’d shell the town. But they did,” he tapped his left shoulder with his right hand. “Got a new left shoulder, lung, and an alloy spine on that adventure.”

Kwesi wasn’t the only one staring. Augments were rare. With the advent of more effective killing machines came the rise of more effective medical treatment. Coupled with advanced hospitals in orbit there was a plethora of maimed soldiers, maimed battle hardened soldiers. The Covenant would not allow for unwilling cyborgs, but men missing limbs were willing indeed.

“They’re not actually Hun,” Vito stated academically.

“How do you know?” Kwesi replied defensively.

“The Hun attacked the Roman empire, I assure you these are not the same people. They are Chinese, Burmese, Indo, some Phillipino. Chinese couldn’t lift em fast enough on the elevators to ease the pressure.”

Kwesi sat in silence, chastened and slightly embarrassed.

“What exactly do you do?” Xan asked Vito.

“I was with the delegate,” Vito replied. “To assist the diplomats, well, I guess I was a diplomat, but not the diplomat.”

“Why’d you drop?” Crow asked.

“They always send diplomats in with the contacts like this. These people shouldn’t have seen any outsiders for 80 years, things can be touchy.”

“Shouldn’t? Well someone’s here,” Xan said.

Vito replied with a thin smile holding his palms upwards.

A mechanical sound of clicking steel on rocks caught everyone off guard. Sebastien slid lower and drew his weapon from his sleeping bag. Crow nudged the flap up with the barrel of his gun.

William felt his heartbeat rise as he strained to listen. Nothing clicked here. Had they sent drones north to finish what the VTOL started? He had heard stories of when the Striders fell upon infantry. It was horrible the precision at which a drone could kill.

“It’s them!” Crow called out and popped out into the open.

A half assembled strider was hitched to the sled the crew had left with. Leduc stood with Selim. A large bundle lay on top of the sled. Leduc’s eyes were hollow and the tip of his nose black. Selim wavered like a ghost.

The men from the tent rushed outside past the idle strider and carried the men inside. Eduardo was light like a bundle of sticks. His tattoos were almost totally gone. His core temperature was low while the earlobes were a horrid shade of black.

Avi tried to smile as best he could. The tip of his nose was frostbitten hard while his earlobes would surely fall off soon. His fingertips were tinged black and ringed with white.

The men were given a fresh ration bar and water. They ate in rapid motion not taking their eyes off the bar until it was totally gone. They looked worn like a mineshaft mule.

Leduc started. “We made it on the third day, it went quick.”

Eduardo continued in his rapid pace. “I stripped a few down and was able to get the little bull together. They were rough. Just rough. The crash busted so much…” He trailed off for a moment. His eyes fluttered but he continued. “I figured why pull a sled when a strider could.”

“We knew it would set us back a day, but we still expected to get back earlier,” Leduc said.

“Then it blew,” Avi said quietly.

Leduc nodded with Eduardo. Both men wore vacant looks.

“The wind hit us and we were out. It smashed the sled, and drug the Strider with it for a few hundred meters. The tent was still on it but everything else was gone,” Leduc said.

Eduardo went to speak but suddenly stopped. He continued a moment later. “I forgot what I was going to say.”

The trio took a brief rest as the rest of the camp descended on the strider. The once sleek beast of war was torn down and the reactor stripped out. The welding began immediately.

The race was on once more as the dwindling stockpile of food demanded that they finish and soon. Xinhu clutched the carbon rods, hovering above each joint and folding the beads of molten alloy together into a cohesive band. Every joint had to be perfect, strong, and free of inclusions. Any weakness could lead to a total structural failure.

The boat took shape as the tanks were added and struts welded on. A convenient deck, like the previous boat had, was not to be found so they would sit on sheets of insulation lashed to the deck. This time a single man stood watch over the hull as it slept alone in the dark. Days passed of nothing but arc flashes and hammer blows.

They awoke the morning of the launch and moved the last of the gear into place. Kerry lugged the reactor with Kwesi holding the other side. Hands passed the critical piece up until it was locked into the boat. A large pipe was to be the lever that would slide it out when the tide was up.

Vito ran up excitedly. “We need a name!” He shouted. His hands were hidden behind his back and he had a wide smile across his face.

William looked around to the blank faces around him. “Second Chance,” he blurted out. A few heads nodded.

Vito hauled out a small delicate looking bottle. “I christen thee, Second Chance!” He crashed the bottle against a stout strut where it showered bits of green liquid and glass.

“That better not have been alcohol,” Crow said in a serious voice.

“I think not, it was a flask of algae concentrates,” Vito replied with a smile.

They all climbed aboard. William gave the signal. Sebastien popped the beam against a rock and with the next swell it broke free of the rocky shore and began to move. Sebastien hopped up. Tero pulled on a light conducting line and the sail was up.

William looked North as the boat rose on the light swells. They had made it. Against mutiny, tragedy, and the cold, they had gotten off the rock. He said a silent goodbye to the dead and turned his face south. The sea stretched on before them with no hints beyond what they could see.

CHAPTER SEVEN

No Shore too Far

The first morning on the oily sea came in a hiss of mist and slicing of waves. The ramshackle craft heeled and rose with each wave before cresting and halting a moment as if unsure which way to face before relenting and grazing down the backside. The slight sail was enough to maintain forward motion but not enough to keep the ship turned in an orderly fashion.

Then came the vomit.

Few things are as horrible, as miserable, as soul wrenching as being sea sick. William could feel a knot of muscle inside of him ball up with each roll of the boat. His cold fingers squeezed the support bar next to him as he fought to keep the bile down. The last of the food was gone from his stomach, now it was a sickly yellow bile the color of a rotten lemon.

“Pump it, just pump the damn thing,” Crow called out. He was wrapped in a damp sleeping bag and perched on the edge of one of the tanks.

“It won’t pump,” Avi replied as he locked his arms and fought with the stubborn water filter. The orange unit was wedged into the support struts at a crooked angle. The inlet line hung limply beneath.

William looked up slowly, deliberately, and in a fog of exhaustion. “Don’t.” He paused, vomited, turned his head and watched as a stream of yellow bile disappeared into the surf. He spat the horrible taste. “Red button, popped, clog filter,” he coughed out before retching once more.

Vito clambered across the uneven rolling surface of the boat and squatted near Grace. “Grace, I know you don’t want to hear it but Squire is dead.”

William had wondered how long the last unconscious survivor would last. He had been without a patch for weeks but stubbornly held on. His face tightened with starvation. A few sips of water was all they could manage at a time. A sea burial. He nodded to Vito and focused on holding down his stomach.

Vito turned and began to crawl away over the bucking sea.

“Hold on,” William called. “I’m going to say something.”

Vito turned and gave him a funny look. “Like that? You’re nearly green.”

“Help me,” William replied and began to crawl across the deck.

Vito grasped William by the arm and tugged him to the center of the small boat. Before him was wrapped a sleeping bag with a slender rise in the center. William hadn’t known the man. No one had. He fought back the urge to vomit. “Listen up,” he croaked.

The boat was small enough that he didn’t have to speak loudly. Around him men popped out of sleeping bags or sat up with mist streaked faces.

William cleared his throat and strained to remember the old protocol. He had read of it, but he had only seen burial in space before. He hadn’t had a chance to give any of his meager command a proper burial, he aimed to change that. “Xan, dip the sail.”

Xan scurried over to the base of the mast and unlashed the electrical cord, sliding down the sail until William nodded. It was only down a foot or so, anymore would have been dangerous.

“Warrant Officer Villeneuve, prepare your weapon for burial salute.”

Eyes looked around and suddenly the feeling of a proper unit flowed onto the boat. Sebastien sat up with a rigid back and hopped next to the mast. He latched an arm onto the slender pole and slapped a slab of ammunition into his boxy weapon.

William felt the ship roll and the bile rise with it. He gritted his teeth and forced it down. Not now dammit, not now. He paused, were they a Company? A platoon? A squad? “Crew, we commit this man to the sea. Though none of us knew him he is yet what any of us could have been. Let us remember those still North.”

The wind teased the tips of the sea around them before settling for a moment.

“Crew, Salute!” William commanded.

Arms snapped out from beneath soiled sleeping bag and tattered jackets.

“Warrant Officer, fire!”

Sebastien brought the weapon to his shoulder and with a crisp movement slid the action backwards. He released the slide and it pushed almost effortlessly forward. He fired. The echo drifted quickly into the wind and was gone. He dropped the weapon down as crisply as he could.

“Fire.”

Sebastien brought the weapon to his shoulder once again and fired off a second round. Again, back down.

“Fire,” William finished.

The final round was lost into the wind as were the others.

“Commit Private First Class Squire to the deep.”

Sergeant Selim and Private Kerry crawled to the sleeping bag. Each gripped a side of the forlorn looking sleeping bag and slid it into the sea. It paused a moment, rolled into the surf, and disappeared into the inky depths.

“At ease,” William commanded. He slid down into the edge of exhaustion once more.

Salutes were dropped. Sebastien released the slab of ammunition and racked out the round in the chamber. Once more William was reminded of the loneliness of his Command. Squire never awoke, but he was one of William’s men. Finally unable to hold it any longer he fell to the uneven deck and continued to vomit into the unrelenting sea.

By evening the mist had dropped as the air temperature more closely matched the water. For a short while the fog had smoothed itself onto the sea and glowed an off tint shade of orange. Then it cleared out altogether showing nothing but darkness.

The first light winked on the horizon. It seemed the same as the one they had seen a week before. It moved along in the distance before winking out once more. The second light was closer.

“Grace!” Crow hissed. “Wake up!”

William opened his eyes and felt strangely well. His stomach had settled as he slept. He feared to move, to budge, to do anything to trigger the sickness again. “What?”

“There’s a light.”

William sat up and scanned the horizon. He couldn’t see Crow, he couldn’t see much of anything. Stars gave the only clue to where the horizon actually was. Then he saw the light in the distance. It shook and moved as if buoyed by the waves.

“Any ideas?” William asked.

“Nothing Sir.”

“Hmm, well, no use worrying about it now. If it gets closer we’ll wake everyone, pass word to your relief.” William turned over in the sleeping bag and felt oddly relieved to finally feel well.

Tero woke William up with a gentle hand just before dawn. The light had disappeared. It, like the other, seemed to move before finally disappearing altogether. In the morning he would ask Vito.

The final box of rations was cracked open at dawn. The daily ration was passed around with deliberate transfers. The only sound was the purifier thrumming as it strained to process the algae clouded water.

“Vito, you’re the Terraforming expert yes? Could the lights be part of that program?”

Vito finished chewing and nodded slowly. “Well, it could be, this was a private colony, so we didn’t have a full manifest.” He thought for a moment and nodded. “Maybe a system to monitor the algae, oxygen content, carbon dioxide, nanite load, maybe?”

“Private colony? Who the hell can afford to pay for a private colony?” Kwesi spoke with a mouth full of ration bar.

“Zack Redmond,” Vito replied.

“The nanite guy?” Kerry stuttered out.

“The nanite guy you say, that’s like calling Jesus just a carpenter,” Vito replied roughly.

“But he was,” Eduardo said quietly.

Vito dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “So he had all the money, and people were worried that we needed to get out, and fast. This fear gripped entire nations that another meteor would strike, like the one that blapped Tampa.”

“And then the Haydn drive came on the scene right?” William said.

“Right!” Vito said excitedly. “But you just can’t move people fast enough on rockets, so the elevators went up. First in Arizona, the next in Spain, and then after that the next seven went up in China.” He paused for a sip of the stale tasting water. “So everyone wanted to get out, so Redmond funds his own colonies, pays for the ships, and just shotguns probes out. Anywhere that came back halfway decent he sent a terraforming ship followed by colonists.”

“And we didn’t know where?” Aleksandr asked.

Vito shook his head. “He was a bit of a kook, he wanted them to survive, to thrive.” He cleared his throat. “to live without the heel of man,” he said in a baritone pitch as if mocking the man. “There’s his clock in Seattle, it rings eighty years after the ships depart and gives us the destination. Where are you from anyhow?”

Aleksandr looked around defensively. “Ukraine.”

“Oh.” Vito looked to the sea and was silent as if embarrassed.

“So why’d we start to give a shit?” Avi said as he scooted himself closer to the pump.

“Well, the Chinese colonies got big, and fast. Then they ran into the Gracelle. First contact and it was Mongol exiles, imagine that kind of embarrassment. And we thought Sputnik was bad,” Vito said with a knowing smile.

“What’s Sputnik?” Aleksandr asked.

“You’re kidding me right?” Vito asked with a sigh.

“What?” Aleksandr replied, offended. “I’m not here for the history OK.”

Vito shook his head and sat sulking in silence.

“Filter’s clogged again,” Avi said as he poked at the purifier.

The rest of the day was spent slowly pulling apart the purifier. The internals were coated in a stringy red-green algae that slipped past the coarse filter and firmly lodged itself in the fine filter. Every pumping session began with a prayer, halted in the middle for a cleaning, and finished in one more sticky cleaning.

The sea warmed in a sudden shift of current. A dim band, barely discernible, edged and eddied before them. The small boat crossed into the stream. The bow tipped and the whole thing had a sensation of being dragged. The crew all looked about before settling back into the routine. The air was warmer, not pleasant, but not nearly as bone-chilling and wet as before.

“Eh! Eh! Look, I see something!” Tik called out. She pointed into the swells before the boat.

The entire crew perked up and began to scan the walls of the wave. Something appeared. They strained their eyes and watched in silence as they slowly came upon it.

“Nur,” Crow spat.

A corpse with a soapy white face bobbed on the edge of the surface. Nur looked much as he had in life. He passed within 10 meters of the boat. No one made an effort to secure the body.

“Was it Nur you hit?” William asked Crow.

Crow kept his eyes locked on the drifting corpse. “Couldn’t say. I was hoping it was Grue.”

William nodded. He had hoped it was Berry.

“Did they sink?” Avi asked.

“We can only hope,” Sebastien replied as he lay with his eyes closed.

The following morning the last of the ration bars were savored. Crow latched the empty case on his lap and gave it a slight pat.

The swells were long and slow like empty hills. The clouds were tinged with white. A chill dropped down from the north. They ate in silence with backs to the wind.

“Xinhu, Tero, check the welds. Kerry, Leduc, check the lashings. Everyone else secure what you can,” Selim called.

“The welds will hold,” Xinhu said simply.

Selim raised an eyebrow to the civilian. “And how many welds have you done?”

Xinhu cocked his head. “None.”

The inspection work stopped as the crew all turned to look to the man who was responsible for every single weld on the small craft.

“What do you mean ‘None.’?” William asked.

“I program EV welding robots, I’ve never actually welded myself. But I’ve followed enough beads, and poked enough slag to know how to make a good weld. Trust me, they’ll hold,” Xinhu replied proudly.

Selim sighed. “Check them anyways.”

Xinhu glared back for a moment. “Fine, fine. But they’re all fine.”

“I believe you, so prove me right,” Selim said.

William reached down and ran his prune tipped finger over one of the welds. It was smooth and slightly rippled like the edge of a dull file. He watched the crew, his crew, inspect the boat. Lashings were tightened, knots retied, but not a single weld was retouched.

Eduardo strained with the reactor lashings. O’Toole sat alongside and tucked the knot the opposite way when, with a hiss, the insulation parted from the wire. He rocked backwards into the surf.

“Eek!” O’Toole squealed before splashing into the water.

“He’s in the water!” Eduardo yelled.

William scrambled along the uneven plate insulation and gripped a coiled bundle of conducting wire. His fingers fumbled as he fought to untie the lashing. His fingernails painfully fought to get a grip.

O’Toole popped up and treaded water slowly. Strings of red algae were stuck in his hair and on his face. “Get me out,” he bawled at the top of his lungs. He coughed and sputtered as his jacket sagged around him.

“Throw it!” Vito called.

The crew leaped and scrambled to the edge where O’Toole had fallen. William felt the shift as the entire crew was all on one pontoon. He turned his head and caught Sebastien’s eye.

The look of recognition was in Sebastien’s face as the nanite augmented Marine shifted his footing and rolled onto the other pontoon. He swept his legs on the opposite side so his toes were barely in the water. Fingers locked into the steel grating as he used his weight as a counterbalance.

William tossed the rope to Vito with a gentle underhand swing and dove in the same direction as Sebastien. He gripped his slick, oily, fingers onto Sebastien’s wrist and helped pull him upwards. One more wave, one more man, one slight gust and they would have capsized. He turned to look at Sebastien with a wide grin.

“We got him!” Avi yelled across the boat.

Sebastien looked to William with a wide grin followed by a painful slap on the shoulder.

“Hoo! Wah!” O’Toole cried out as the others stripped off his soaked clothing. Vito was pulling the strings of algae from his hair and soiled beard.

“Are you hurt?” Crow asked as he helped him into a sleeping bag.

O’Toole suddenly began to laugh. “I’m the only one who doesn’t smell.”

Vito replied flatly, “You sir still smell, it’s the stink that is gone.”

“At least the water wasn’t cold as hell.”

“Really?” William asked.

O’Toole nodded, shivering just a bit.

“Let’s get back to it,” Selim ordered.

The crew swarmed, more carefully this time, and checked every knot and wire. Xinhu sat smugly near the prow of the boat and looked at Selim. Selim looked back with a satisfied look on his face.

The clouds swung and changed to a different tack. The wind remained the same for a short while before pitching the seas into a frothy mess. Each swell grew closer together with spit like foam dancing off of the crests. The crew slid as low as they could and watched the incoming waves.

As had happened before, the wall of wind broke over the heads of the survivors. It thrashed the thin sail into a shredded tatters before they could drop it down. The mast hummed with a stomach clenching vibration before finally fracturing and disappearing into the sea. What little control they had was now given to the angry sea.

In a strange moment the wind almost ceased with only the sound of the cresting waves around them. The crew peaked higher and searched about to discover nothing but the greyness of the walls of water around them. Then it pounced again in a renewed fury that was almost vulgar in the violence.

William grasped tightly to the center of the boat. The waves rolled over the front of the pontoons in a wash of green and gray. Thin tendrils of red algae hung and stuck. All this way to drown. Not now. He slid his way next to Leduc and helped guide the meager rudder.

What had seemed like a ferocious wind was but a whimper compared to what followed. The first winds ramped up with a wall of sleet. The heavy gray water iced the ropes and turned everything into a sloppy, slippery mess. No one dared to move from where they sat. All were hunched under sleeping bags, the only waterproof cover they had.

Snow dropped from the sky in giant balls each the size of a mans fist. They drifted just slow enough to totally obscure vision. Had it happened anywhere else the scene would have been amazing, now it was crushing.

With the snow came the darkness of night. Leduc took the lead with the rudder. With any strong shift William would try to aid the Corporal to keep the nose pointed into the waves as best as was possible. Every rise and drop brought a new fight with a new furious foe.

Darkness in snow is an unusual feeling. Even with the cloud cover and the dullness of the water the snow itself seemed to echo a dim light. Wave crests could be seen as the snow disappeared into it.

A new sound startled William as he fought with the rudder. His arms had turned into cold leaden slugs fighting against an unending foe. The tone of the wind and waves was almost hypnotic. What came next to his ears was a horrendous crashing.

“Breakers!” William howled out. He had no idea if anyone heard him but he hoped. He had debated lashing himself down before but was now glad he didn’t. He had no doubt the boat would be crushed. He only hoped it was a shore different from the rock they had left to the North.

“Pull! Pull for all you’ve got!” Leduc shouted through the icy mist.

William could sense Leduc increasing his sculling and synced his movements. He looked up and could see the slightest hint of a glow coming from Leduc’s face. The man had his night vision on. William gripped as tight as he could on the rudder pole and struggled in unison.

The sudden and violent sound of the breakers began to shift and slide but at the same moment the height of the waves grew. The deep shore near the rocky cliffs was averted but the slow track of sand into the beach was yet a perilous journey.

If they had a sail they may have been able to keep enough velocity to power up the back of one breaker and stay upright down the front. But instead the waves moved faster than they did. With each rolling wave the rear of the boat crested upwards and danced on the bow before heeling backwards. Until it didn’t.

The sudden heave forward was steeper than those before. William could feel it in his gut. He knew that it would happen but a part of him hoped he could avoid getting thrown into the inky dark water. Before he could do anything but close his mouth he was hurled into the water.

The only luck of the trip occurred the moment the boat had been pitched forward. Had it simply flipped most of the crew would have been crushed underneath. They had come in close enough on a high tide and high rollers to finally come to the shallow sand that brought the high pitched white waves to a halt.

William was in the water with no bearing of up or down. The crushing roll of a breaker grated him against the sandy bottom. He thrashed up and off the bottom and found himself back in the chill air. He gasped. Water! The burn that he felt was so fierce that even his soul felt scalded. The water burst into his lungs.

He clawed his hand upward into the cold air and stood up. The surprise at feeling solid sandy soil was almost as intense as getting smashed by another wave. He was ready for what to do the next time and steadied himself as he worked himself into the shore. With each step the water grew shallower, the foam thicker, and the waves tamer.

The rollers loomed and hissed. The booming violence of the waves was incessant as men, gear, and a large ramshackle boat slowly came ashore. Slowly and painfully the survivors crept onto the wet beach. The Marines gathered up the Navy ratings and everyone huddled underneath the last shred of the original shelter.

“We’re down one!” Selim shouted over the roar of the wind and breakers.

“Who? Did we lose the wounded?” William hollered back. The last two severely wounded were Tik and the strider Jockey Von Hess. He had been afraid that they would drown if the boat failed them.

“I’m here!” Tik called.

“Da, me too!” Von Hess shouted.

“Kwesi, I think it’s Kwesi.”

“Sergeant, we need to find that man!” William called. He began to stand. The weight of the shelter pushed against his back slapping him with every gust of wind.

“You with me,” Selim yelled to William. “Leduc, and Aleksandr, go the other way. Crow, keep a watch here. Go a few hundred meters and come back.”

The men emerged from the crumpled shelter and found a world of wet and whiteness. The air was just warm enough to keep the snow from sticking but not warm enough to turn it into rain.

William almost missed the dry chill of the north as his water logged clothes were soaked even more. He thought back to when he was in the water, it had felt warmer than the air. Or was his mind playing tricks on him?

The pair crawled as they moved along the steep beach. The wet sand was oddly inviting as they moved into the darkness. Selim scanned as they crested each rise only to find nothing. They stopped at a wall of dark stone and turned back.

Selim grasped his shoulder and helped him onto the rise above the beach. William felt something he hadn’t touched in years. Real grass. His fingers clumped it up and he stuck it into his pocket.

They moved down the grassy rise and slid down the shore back to the shelter. Inside the group sat in silence. A single strip light dimly illuminated with a blue-purple light.

Kwesi lay motionless in the center of the covered area. His head lay at an impossible angle on his shoulders.

“Must’ve broke his neck when the boat rolled,” Crow said.

William nodded. His fingers clumped on the cold grass in his pocket. He knelt down and tucked it into Kwesi’s breast pocket. “How many,” he said softly.

Sebastien replied just loud enough to William could hear him. “As many as it takes.”

William looked to the veteran Marine before closing his eyes. A strange relief washed over him. They had made it. They had escaped the damnable rock and were on a grassy land. They had survived! The colony only had one continent with grass, and they were on it.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Land’s Edge

William opened his eyes and let the sound of the waves wash over him. The sand was strangely comfortable and he had slept extraordinarily well. Through a gap in the tent he could see the slightest gray of the waking morning. He slid himself outside.

The horizon was barely light when he stood and looked out to the sea. The boat lay a hundred meters out. The front of the tanks were battered and smashed. It was standing upright but looked to be deformed from the shock.

Further down the beach loomed rugged stone cliffs. Had Leduc not been able to see those horrible walls they would have been dashed and destroyed. William spent a long minute looking.

He began to dig just below the grassy rise. Thin gravel lay not far below the sand. His fingernails ached and became packed with the grit.

“Let me relieve you sir,” Avi said.

William nodded and sat back away from the dim gray trench.

More men emerged. Each took his turn widening the trench. They laid him down in silence. A quick few words were spoken and the body was buried. A salute was given silently and the men spread onto the beach to search for supplies.

When they had sailed south they had little, now they had even less. Each man yet had a weapon, some still had sidearms. The stubby nose of the Beretta launcher was protruding from the sand. Selim swore that it would still fire.

The tide retreated and the winds ebbed, allowing them to gather the rest of the supplies that were still onboard. The reactor was silent and dull. The case of Chilean grenades were a welcome surprise. The purifier, the one thing they needed, was missing the entire filtration canister.

“How shall we proceed Mr. Grace?” Sergeant Crow asked.

William scanned down the beach and off to the rocks. “Well Sergeant, I’m thinking inland a bit to get out of the wind and follow whatever shore heads more southwards. Would you agree?”

Crow nodded. “Not much else to be done.” He saluted and walked away to pass out orders.

William returned the salute and wondered what exactly his plan was. Head south was the original plan, but now they were south. What next indeed?

He ran his fingers over his greasy beard and realized they were all a horrible mess. His mind danced along the thought of infection.

The camp, what little was left, was torn down. The reactor was left on the edge of a small hillock with a rock cairn on top. No matter how Eduardo poked and prayed it simply would not power up.

The wounded became walking wounded. Pulling the sled over the grass was far too arduous. The pace was slowed and two men ranged in front of the group as scouts.

The ground personnel walked as a cohesive unit. They spread out far enough part so that a single bomb, drone, or explosive charge couldn’t take more than one out. The weapons hung loosely and were never far from a knowing hand. William watched and realized he was surrounded with professionals.

“Sebastien, let me walk with you,” William asked.

The augmented Marine turned and regarded him with a lazy eye. “What can I do for you Midshipman?”

William paused while he tried to find the correct wording. “My knowledge of ground combat is, well, lacking. What would you recommend?”

Sebastien smiled and nodded. “When it comes time simply stay back and observe. Keep your damn head down as well. Private Avinash has been assigned to keep you out of trouble.”

“Oh.” William didn’t know what to think about the fact that he warranted a Marine to keep him out of trouble.

Sebastien sensed the change of tone. “All of the Naval personnel have a Marine or Soldier assigned. We need to maximize our force, can’t have a bunch of useless Navy ratings.” He smiled at William and walked in silence.

William kept pace. Useless Navy, was that how the Marine saw him?

The group moved inland half a kilometer. They laid in the grass while Kerry and Leduc climbed a low hill to the south. The only conversation as they sat in the grass was of food. It was decided to rotate the forward scouts between all the crew. The paired Civilians would take a turn with their respective escort to learn how to move.

Leduc jogged down with Kerry faltering behind.

“There’s a small river a bit East, it looks like that coast heads South. To the West it just keeps going,” Leduc said barely out of breath.

William nodded. “At least we can get a drink.”

“There’s something that shines too, off near the water past the river,” Leduc said carefully.

“First things first,” William said. “We’re filthy. Everyone is going to strip and take a rinse.”

The crew looked at him like he was crazy.

“I’m serious. We’re all waiting for an infection with just a little scratch.”

The grumbles followed as they set off for the river. William sensed that they didn’t mind so much the bath as they were anxious to see the glittering object in the distance.

The river was laced with dull gravel and filled with water so cold it numbed the toes in seconds. The crew stripped down and entered howling. Each man drank until his teeth were too chilled to sip down anymore.

Except Tik who sat watch in the distance with a rifle on her lap.

William regarded his clothing with disgust. He felt even filthier putting it back on. His Naval uniform was soiled so terribly that it had started to break down in spots.

The men moved over the hill and Tik reluctantly went off to bath. A shriek echoed over the hill verified her entry into that icy slip. The men laughed as they warmed themselves in the mid day sun.

Hunger had become a constant companion. All around them was grass, green as an emerald, and totally inedible. Stomachs growled and knots tightened as the pace slowed to nearly a crawl.

Xinhu was in the lead when he dropped to his stomach and raised a clenched fist above his head. The rest of the column followed suit. Weapons slowly slid forward. Everyone strained to listen and look.

Xinhu crawled slowly forward on his stomach with his head tilted to the side. His trainer, Aleksandr, was creeping behind. Xinhu scurried back from the rise and looked to William with eyes wild with fear.

“What is it?” Leduc hissed.

“It’s an alien!” Xinhu cursed back.

The men tensed. The slow crawl that everyone was making stopped. Aliens were serious business. William looked to Vito, who shrugged back.

“Aleksandr, go look!” Leduc said.

A look of dread spread across Aleksandr’s face. He crawled in the slick grass as slowly as he could manage with his rifle hooked into his arm. His head was tilted sideways to present a low profile. Reaching Xinhu he paused and the pair whispered a moment. He crept forward as slow as he could manage while still moving.

“Gah! You dumb shit!” Aleksandr called back angrily. He swatted Xinhu in the face as he sat up.

“What is it?” Crow yelled from the rear of the column.

“Stupid son-of-a-bitch. Don’t you know what that is?” Aleksandr said. His fingers poked and prodded at Xinhu who lay on the ground confused and scared.

“No! I don’t!” He squealed back.

William ran up with Crow and Selim. Each had a weapon at ready as they crested over the small rise. His heart was beating fast and his eyes dilated from the adrenaline. The taste of metal was in the back of his mouth.

The alien, as Xinhu had seen it, had four legs, a dark black snout, and was covered in shaggy grayish white wool. The alien, so foreign to a man born on an asteroid, was a sheep. The trio couldn’t help but break into a smile.

The next question became how could they eat it.

No firewood was about and no one wanted to eat it raw, yet. They tied a thin piece of electrical wire around its neck and led it slowly behind. It seemed not to mind and bleated occasionally as it stopped to graze. They learned in a short distance that sheep are not prized for their intellect.

Xinhu walked at the rear of the column embarrassed about the entire ordeal. He tried to explain himself at first. Eventually he gave up and watched the strange beast.

The land around them was covered in thick emerald green grass. The hills were low, gentle, and peaked with a rubble of white stone. It was a land touched by man, but barely scratched.

The shining object was an alloy spire. It was driven into the ground with a terrible impact. Chambers and hollows ran all the way to the peak, five meters off the ground. Vito studied it and proclaimed that it was a terraforming capsule, spreading grass seed as it dropped from orbit.

They came above a small rise and found the shepherd. The shepherd was a young boy, barely six years old, and scared. He wore wool trousers and a heavy wool sweater. He had been engrossed in a flexible tablet and hadn’t seen the group. He sat on the ground and stared up at the rough looking men around him. His name was Saul.

After a brief conversation he led them back towards the sea. They were continuing on in the same direction as they had been. The boy said little and eyed them warily.

The group followed the boy to a larger flock of sheep. They edged nearer to the sea. They came to their destination. A group of low structures, weather worn and tarnished with age, sat near a crumbled pier. A rough corral filled with sheep sat near the edge of town. A thin two rut road wound its way south.

William called a halt. “Everyone relax. Sebastien, Vito, we’re heading into town.”

The road troubled him. He hadn’t expected to run into people, or a settlement. Where did the road go? He walked in silence behind the boy.

The place was old. Most of the buildings had no roof or windows. It looked like someone had moved out long ago and only recently came back. The walls nearest the sea were battered and beaten from the storms.

They came to a large building with bundles of thin sticks stacked outside. The boy entered first followed by William with Sebastien bringing up the rear.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The room smelled of grain and cooked meat. A tall man stood as they entered. As Williams eyes adjusted he saw that the man was old, very old.

“Who, who are you? What do you want? Saul come here,” The old man spoke with force in his voice.

“My name is Midshipman William Grace, of the United Colonies. This is Dr. Vitomir Kovac and Warrant Officer Sebastien Villeneuve of the UC Marines.”

The man opened his thin lips as if to speak. He blinked and sat down hard. “Oh my,” the old man said. He tapped his fingers on his trousers.

William smiled. “We’re in need of food and water, can the rest of my crew come down?”

The old man nodded. His eyes were unfocused and his mouth still slightly open. He seemed to be thinking. Heavily. With a slight nod he snapped out of it and stood back up.

“I’m David, this is my grandson Saul,” David said in a loud voice. “I can give you what you seek but then you must leave.”

William turned to Vito. “Wave the rest down.”

Vito nodded and walked back outside.

“We’re not a danger Sir,” William said. He wasn’t sure how much to divulge about his situation. He imagined the man couldn’t quite figure out how he came to be on that planet.

David looked William in the eye and held his gaze. “No, you’re not, but if you’re here when they arrive they’ll shoot me.” He looked down at Saul. “And him too.”

“Who are ‘they’?” Sebastien said.

David looked between the two men.

“Where are you from? What do you want?” David asked angrily.

William glanced at Sebastien. The Marine was impassive and looked bored. Sebastien returned the glance and walked back outside.

“We’re from Terra, Earth. We came here on a mission to get this planet to sign the Covenant and put a halt to an illegal refining operation.” William decided to stick with honesty. He knew they were here for the right reasons.

David looked confused. “How? What? But you look half dead!”

“Yes, we’ve been working to only look half dead.”

Vito walked back into the dim room.

“Mr. Grace, the men are waiting outside,” Vito said.

“Dr. Kovacs, take a moment to explain our mission to David.” William turned to David. “My men are starving. We have little to trade, but we’d like one of your sheep.”

David nodded slowly and directed Saul outside to help. “Go. I’ll not let hungry men stand at my doorstep.”

William stepped outside to find the Marines and Soldiers spread out around the small compound. The Naval staff stood near the bundles of sticks eying up the sheep.

“Tero, Xan, give this young man a hand. He’s going to help you pick out dinner,” William said with a smile.

Crow walked up to William with his rifle cradled in his arm. “Not much here Grace, a bit of shelter, whoever lived here didn’t stay long.”

“I noticed,” William said as he pointed to the road. “Can we get someone to go down that road a bit? I’d like a bit of warning if anyone comes.”

“Already on it, Kerry and Corporal Leduc are going to head out as soon as they drink their fill.”

“Water?”

Crow nodded. “There’s a well a block down. And Sir, there’s other people here, kids, women.”

William nodded. He had expected as much. He walked down to where Crow had pointed to get a drink. How was he supposed to get off without incurring Civilian casualties? He needed to know what they were up against and soon. Hun, Sa’ami, Outlaws, Pirates, Jumpers… He’d let Vito do some talking.

Sebastien walked back onto the street and nearly bowled over the small child Saul. He looked down at the child and saw curious eyes looking back up to him. He looked down for a moment and started walking.

The town was silent but was in use. Worn trails edged around the corners of buildings where the grass was tramped to mud. A pile of sheared wool rested beneath a cracked roof. Buckets were stacked near an old well.

The boy followed the augment through the town. Sebastien would normally toss a ration bar and divert the child away. This time he had nothing. “What do you want?”

Saul looked to the ground and shook his head.

Sebastien waited a moment longer and walked around towards the sheep corral. He looked back at Saul. The boy looked down again. A recollection of a moment past flashed through Sebastien. He recalled his dreams and stopped. “Come here.”

The boy shook his head slowly. He looked small in his wool.

Sebastien knelt down slowly before the boy and held out a hand.

Saul took it with his cold gritty finger. He looked up at Sebastien and bounced himself against the augments leg.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Sebastien said.

The crew saw a most peculiar sight as the augmented Marine walked in silence through the crumbling town with a small child holding his hand.

Several of the women came forward and stuffed a rough stone oven with a few bundles of sticks. It lit quickly and raged briefly before finally dying down. The sheep was laid onto a large stoneware slab and stuffed into the oven.

The small town slowly began to perk up as children and women poked out from the ruins. The smell of woodsmoke rolled over the town mixed with the tang of burning fat. The crew stayed in position around the town, but all eyes were on the roasting sheep.

“Meat. Real meat. I haven’t had real meat in years,” Vito said as he eyed up the roasting sheep.

“I was ready to eat it raw, so this is an improvement,” William replied. “What did you learn Mr. Diplomat?”

“He’s just a shepherd, says that men came a year ago, brought gifts, medicine, nanites, and just asked to setup a refinery. Then they needed more people so anyone who could work was rustled into the town near the refinery. Now everyone outside works to feed those running the refinery. Seems they have kindly hijacked the system and forced out the old council.”

William scratched his chin. “Did you see his hands?”

Vito turned from eying the sheep and looked at William. “His hands? Well, no, I don’t think I did.”

“No calluses, and his fingernails were clean,” William said. He leaned forward and pulled a slender shoot of roasted meat and popped it into his mouth.

“Clean?” Vito looked back to the building. His face wore a curious look. He paced slowly back and entered once more.

The smell of the roast teased the starving men. Even Sebastien was eying up the silent oven. A pear faced young woman stood guard near the entrance after seeing William “sampling” the roast.

William wondered how the women and children must see them. They were unshaven, dirty, stunk, and carried weapons. On top of that once they learned he was going to shake things up a bit, well, it might not be pretty.

Vito emerged once more. “He wants to talk to you. Seems he was on a council before.”

William nodded and eyed up the smoking oven. “Save me some.”

“Just the bones!”

William found David standing in the corner near two rough hewn chairs. He beckoned for William to sit. “Your Dr. Kovac told me of the Covenant.” He licked his lips and paused a moment. “It seems preferable to be seen as equals instead of being exploited.”

“Is that how you see yourselves?” William asked carefully.

Davids eyes pleaded. “You don’t know how it is to watch your wife die in childbirth because you have no antibiotics, or to watch your second wife die to the same thing. Or watch children curl up and cry when the harvest is bad. All we have is stories of what the world once was, dreams. Someone comes and offers us medicine in exchange for working in a refinery…” He let the words trail off.

“And what of your children? Born into toil and slavery?” William countered.

David sighed and put his head down. He looked like the tired old man they had seen before. “They come twice a month to get the sheep. They will be here tomorrow midday to get them.”

William watched as David tore the words out. “Why are you telling me?”

“I wasn’t going to. I’d make you leave, tell them once you were gone and let them hunt you.”

“Instead you risk your family and countrymen. Why?” William asked. A chill ran over him.

“I’ll not be the man who damns my children to a life of servitude, we were proud men once.”

“We’ll see no harm comes. Now, how many are there?”

William left David with his conscience and found Crow eating. “Did you save me any Sergeant?”

Crow handed William a tallowy piece of hot mutton without saying a word. He was too busy eating.

“Sergeant, we’re going to engage a target in the morning.” William took an amazing bite. Now he knew why Crow hadn’t spoke.

“Sir?” Crow asked with a mouthful of shredded meat.

“Get Selim and Sebastien, we’ve some planning to do.”

The briefing waited for a few delicious minutes while the men ate. Mutton, normally not a treat, was the finest feast any of them could imagine. For a few it was the first real meat they had ever tasted. The salted rye porridge they ate with it didn’t garner the same praise.

“It sounds like a Company size force of mercenaries or contractors came in a year ago. Started out plying them with nanites, medicines, tablets, and the people ran the stamp mills and the low level refineries. They’ll be here tomorrow with a truck to get the sheep,” William said.

“How many?” Crow asked.

“Normally three, but on occasion six.”

“Weapons?” Selim said as he picked his teeth.

“Small arms, sounds like assault rifles, no body armor.”

“Drones?” Sebastien asked.

“He didn’t know, I think this is a milk run for them.”

“Did he mention anything about the VTOL or if they heard of a ship crashing?” Selim asked.

“He hasn’t heard a peep. Here’s the catch. We can’t let these people be the target of a reprisal. There was no opposition when the mercs came in, there’s been zero violence from either side. If we’re going to change that we need to make this count.” William looked at each of the men around him. “We hit them, kill them, make it look like it happened away from this town and move fast.”

“Where?” Crow asked.

“The Capital, Redmond. That’s where the elevator and the refinery are. We run the truck into the town and hide out. There’s nothing in the countryside, we’d have nowhere to run. But the capital is about 40,000 people with refineries everywhere. We can strike from there.”

“Why’d he tell us all of this?” Sebastien asked warily.

“He used to be a politician of sorts, a councilor or some such,” William replied.

“What’s he get out of this?” Selim asked.

“The future of his world, or his own political station. Either way it works to our advantage right now. I think he’s looked at who is the big dog, it was the Mercenaries and eventually it’ll be the UC. I’m going to leave the tactical details to you gentleman. Let me know how I can help.” The only thing nagging him was who were the Mercs working for?

William sat back and watched as the Marine took the lead with the Soldiers adding in some details. In a few short minutes the plan of attack was laid. It would be a simple ambush, a crossfire of deadly efficiency. The main goal was to eliminate the opposing force before any word would get out.

The naval personnel were to be behind each of the professionals. They would provide a bit of extra cover fire. Xinhu wanted the Beretta, bad. He reluctantly relented when he was told they wanted to save the truck. The orders went out and the guard was to be set at sunrise.

The sheep was devoured down to a bony white sheen. The rye porridge, not so much.

William awoke in the shelter of an old windowless building. The morning crawled as he awaited the arrival of the truck. The thin road was watched by every eye except the civilians, who were kept with the old man. William sat with Tik and Von Hess on the edge of the North flank. His knee still wasn’t back to normal, he was “in reserve”.

The road led to a circular drive near the corral. The Marines were stationed nearby with the Soldiers at a 90 degree angle. This would provide a flanking shot. The goal was to catch them as they dismounted without damaging the truck.

Shortly before noon the slightest hum of an electric motor came over the hill. William felt his chest tighten and his stomach rumble. This was different from anything he had ever felt in the Navy. This was close, visceral, intense, and it hadn’t even begun.

Over the hill came a truck with paneling on the rear. It had a small cab with a sheet of corrugated metal for a roof. It looked painfully old and was streaked with rust. Inside sat three men shoulder to shoulder in gray uniforms. Three slender rifles were perched in the window behind them.

William tensed as he watched them bumble down the hill. This was it! He stole a quick glance at Tik and Von Hess, they both looked relaxed as they sat with rifles held close.

A second louder whine chattered over the sound of the first. A small armored vehicle followed behind by about a hundred meters. It was a black stubby thing with wheel covers and a set of racking for drones. A single autocannon turret rose like a blister on the roof. It lacked any semblance of grace, a creature of pure violence.

“Shit,” William said as he grabbed the stubby Beretta.

CHAPTER NINE

Firefight

The truck pulled slowly into the circle drive. The sheep bleated and stirred as the truck pulled near. The APC stopped at a quartering angle on the road.

William lugged the heavy launcher until he was crouched behind a cracked concrete wall. His heart was pounding, not from the exertion but from the adrenaline. He held the only weapon that could touch that APC. Now he had to wait for everyone else to fire.

The high backed cattle truck lurched to a stop in a ragged creaking bounce. A single man stepped out and looked about the corral. He spoke to the others and everyone stepped out. The driver sauntered to the bumper and slapped a single nanite patch onto his arm. A look of serenity flowed across his face.

Sebastien sent the first round. It shattered into the throat of the driver in a single, simple, dark hole. The man slouched forward and crumpled onto his knees as if in prayer.

Projectiles cascaded down from both angles of the ambush and knocked the two men to the ground. The sheer volume of impacting bullets caused each man to dance raggedly on the way down. They were dead before they even started to fall, let alone hit the ground.

William popped around the corner and mounted the Beretta onto his shoulder. A pair of simple sights needed only the general direction of the target. The three rounds inside of the multi-point launcher would do the rest. One would arch over the top of the target and slam down while the other two would flank it.

The autocannon swung and pointed its deadly tip at the concrete buildings and fired. The rapid thump-thump rang across the hills. Rounds shattered into the aged concrete spraying dust and aggregate everywhere. The sheep were caught in the fire and either ran or dropped in agony.

The Marines and Soldiers focused the small arms fire onto the APC but it did nothing. It didn’t move, it didn’t dodge, it just continued to fire. From the peak of the vehicle came a series of pops and the drones were out.

“Shoot it!” Crow yelled across the yard. He laid back into his position and pumped round after round towards the sleek beast.

William aligned the sighting tubes onto the target just as the drones exited. The APC noticed the launcher and the turret swung towards William. He pulled the trigger hard. Nothing happened except the autocannon opened up on him.

Maybe it was the salt water, maybe it was the sand, maybe it was just a factory defect. But whatever it was William dove down with the Beretta on his shoulder and was peppered with concrete shards. The sound of the cracking walls was deafening.

The drones settled in and swooped down from the APC. Had they been full military issue drones the battle would have been done. The unarmored unsupported crew would have fallen. But these drones were razor drones, a weapon of terror. Each drone was a set of cascading blades that would set upon unarmed targets and savage them.

William lay on the ground while the concrete peppered down on top of him. He opened his eyes to look down the street. Von Hess held out a pistol before him and was firing at an unseen target. A sudden burst of smoke appeared above the roofless structure and a shower of steel rained down.

This, he thought, would not do. They had nowhere to run, no way to get close enough to toss grenades and in a short while no ammunition. Already around him the rate of fire had almost ceased. His hands slapped every joint and piece on the supposedly failproof launcher. A sharp click issued from inside.

The autocannon continued to pepper projectiles near William. The wall was slowly disintegrating above him. The only thing that was saving his life was the fact that concrete is at its hardest after 100 years, this was nearly 80 years old. The rounds were beginning to penetrate.

William crawled forward through the broken shards of concrete. The Beretta was cradled in one arm as he felt for the corner with his other. The air tasted chalky and gritty.

One second, maybe, he knew that was all he had. His fingers felt open space and he took a deep breath. The Beretta snapped up to his shoulder. He sprinted forward faster than the turret could track, or so he hoped. The blister turret paused and began to swing those scant few degrees.

He stopped in the midst of the green grass and hammered the trigger once more. He was rewarded with a hiss and a delayed blast as each of the rockets fired. The first arched almost straight vertical while the other two went out sideways. He could see the autocannon stop and pause with the darkness of the barrel firmly on him. Then the rockets landed.

The hull of the APC buckled outwards as each of the rockets burst. Only three tiny holes, no larger than a mans finger, betrayed any wound at all. The autocannon fell silent. A sooty black smoke emerged as it began to burn.

William rose slowly and with a wide smile on his face. He released his grip and dropped the empty launcher onto the ground. Amazing, he thought, I didn’t get shot. He could feel the bile rising in his throat followed by an urge to get sick, the adrenaline was ebbing.

Screams sounded from across the town. William turned and ran, drawing his sidearm. The Marines and Soldiers sprinted before him and ran towards where the civilians were. He began to limp as the fibers in his leg screamed at him.

Gunfire echoed down the street as William struggled to get to the building. He turned a bend and saw women and children laying around the front of the building. The razor drones had struck.

Crow stood with his rifle to his shoulder and sidestepped into the doorway. His muzzle flash illuminated the dim interior showing several of the drones floating nearby. He backed out and around the corner. The others were arrayed around the entrance waiting.

“I’m out!” Crow called as he drew his sidearm.

“Call it,” Sebastien stated as he held his rifle aimed at the door.

“Grenade?” Aleksandr asked as he clutched a dull sphere in his hand.

“Negative, still got civvies inside,” Crow said.

Selim sidestepped in front of the doorway and cracked off two shots. A whirring hiss panged out from the door. “On me,” he said to Leduc. He popped into the doorway and sidestepped with Leduc moving the opposite way. The rest of the crew followed suit.

By the time William reached the building the firing had stopped. Vito was tending to a wounded woman while others writhed around him. He knelt down and pushed his hands against a fast bleeding wound just below a boys arm. It was Saul. “Vito! Get out the patches.”

The final supply of patches was all they had left. William knew if they used them now they’d have none for themselves.

“Tik! Bring the case!” Vito yelled. His eyes were focused on stopping the bleeding coming from the legs of the woman in front of him.

The Soldiers and Marines exited the room and began to assist with the wounded. Sebastien broke off with Crow and ran to inspect the truck and APC. Tik limped into the mess with one arm carrying the nanite patch case. Von Hess came slowly behind.

“How could they do this?” Avi asked. In his arms was cradled a bloody child, mother at his elbow with tears streaming.

Vito stripped the case out of Tik’s arms and tore the case open. He dropped to his knees and began slapping fresh patches on the most heavily wounded while the less wounded wore the used patches pulled from the dead and dying so long before.

“The Sa’Ami use them,” Von Hess said slowly. “I saw them on a drop on Tunis Prime, anytime the civilians rallied to us they would send in the razors, it took all of our drones to clear them out.”

“But why? Good god man, look at what they have done!” Eduardo said.

Von Hess shrugged. “They are not for military use, they are to keep a planet in fear.” He waved a hand around him. “They maim, and in a simply public manner. They find the largest group of unarmed people and strike.”

William brought Saul into a clear building and laid him down on a wool blanket. The wound was slick with a crimson sheen but the flow of blood had stopped. The nanites were working.

He walked outside and met Sebastien returning with Crow. Crow held three sets of pattern armor.

“Look what we found,” Crow said as he hefted the clunky looking jacket and a trio of slender rifles.

William grasped a corner of the armor and was amazed at how light it was. “What is it made of?”

“They foam alloy and impregnate it with elastomers to grab onto projectiles. Nanites self repair it, expensive stuff, K743 make the best, but this looks Hun,” Sebastien said.

“Can we use it?”

“Oh yes, absolutely.”

William nodded. “Issue it. What of the truck and the rifles?”

“The truck is fine, well, as fine as that dinosaur is. That thing’s got to be eighty years old. Rifles will work, not much ammo though.” Crow dropped the vests and whistled. “Leduc, Aleksandr, get over here.” He handed the vests to the pair and saved the last for himself.

“Anything of the APC?” William asked.

“Cooked. It thermited when it was hit,” Sebastien said.

“Did they get a message out?” William asked.

“Unsure,” Sebastien said, “but I’d say likely.”

William nodded. He had expected as much. “Did David survive?”

Crow nodded. “He isn’t hurt.”

“We’re taking these people with us,” William said. He looked at the two men for a reaction.

“They’re not our responsibility,” Sebastien stated.

“The hell they’re not, they took us in, no fault of theirs that an APC showed up,” William said.

“Why did an APC show up, he said it was a regular run.” Crow questioned.

William shrugged. “Patrol, who knows, but if it happens again we’ve got no way to hit them.”

“What do we do with these people? We need to move fast,” Sebastien said.

William nodded slowly. “We pack into that truck and drop them at the first town we come to, if anyone asks they say they were held hostage.”

“I don’t like this, we need to move and now!” Sebastien said.

Crow nodded. “I agree, we can’t move with these people in tow.”

“Then find a way, load them up and now,” William said as forcefully as he could manage.

Sebastien looked at him with cold eyes. William held the gaze and fully expected the augment to slap him aside. Crow stood to the side and shook his head.

“We’ve got to go, now. If the VTOL is on the way we’re screwed regardless,” Sebastien said as he walked towards the building with the wounded.

William let out the tension he was holding inside and took a deep breath.

Crow noticed and slapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s go, we’ve got to get these people loaded.”

David protested along with the older women as they were herded into the truck. The wounded were gently laid down on beds of piled wool blankets. The painkillers had quieted all but the most severely wounded. Vito sat in their midst.

“We need to take it slowly, these wounds could open back up,” Vito said loudly to no one in particular.

Sebastien hauled himself up into the passenger position and stirred the sleepy reactor into action. William hauled himself up onto the sideboard and tucked his sidearm into his jacket. The rust crinkled in his hand as he focused on holding on as the wobbly truck lurched forward.

“How far?” Selim called to the back of the truck. He sat in the driver seat. “How far old man?”

David sat hunched with his head held low “200 kilometers.”

“How far to the next town?”

“50.”

Selim nodded and settled himself into the worn seat.

William turned to the sea for one last glimpse. The water stretched out northwards with a low line of puffball clouds racing south. Only the inky smoke from the APC broke the horizon. Another storm was coming from the North.

The green hills rose like gentle furrows as the crew and refugees meandered South. The weather slowly shifted from a drizzled horizon to a variety of blue sky and fluffy clouds. It all seemed vaguely odd and abandoned. Only a lonely spire broke the horizon. Below it a spreading carpet of small shrubs and scrubby trees.

Tik rode with eyes closed and teeth clenched. Her back still crunched and shooting pains ran down her legs when she walked. But what she hated most was the shame.

She was ashamed of being pulled, carried, lifted, assisted, helped, and worst of all she couldn’t do a damn thing about it. The feeling of being an invalid was against everything she had worked so hard for. To now be the ideal of a damsel burned her to the core.

She stole a glance at the men around her. Each was tired, worn, injured, and beat. Only the jockey was more mangled than her, he didn’t seem to mind being pulled. She reflected on that a moment and looked to the civilians. She turned her nose up at them.

“Tik, you OK?” Leduc asked.

“Yah, why Corporal?” she snapped back.

“You look, hmm, uncomfortable.”

She looked back at him. She thought he was the one who looked uncomfortable with a frost blackened nose. “I’m doing fine.” She didn’t want, or need, anyones help.

The truck bounced over a slab of stone and the entire vehicle began rocking and bouncing. Tik braced her back and felt the crunching at the base of her spine. It took every bit of her concentration to keep the tears from streaming down. It passed like a subtle burn. And then something was on her lap.

A small girl, no more than four years old, had climbed up onto Tik’s lap. The tiny thing latched one hand into her jacket and squeezed Tik’s arm with the other. The girls face was against her chest with crystal blue eyes looking upward. Her eyes were the only thing that was clean.

The girl caught Tik off guard. She looked around quickly to the others in the truck. No one seemed to pay any mind to the little girl on her lap. She relaxed her back and felt the girls weight resting on her.

What should she say? Motherly thoughts didn’t come easy to her, she focused everything on being a Marine. “Who are you?” she asked in a quiet voice. Was that her voice? Shit, she thought, I sound like a sissy.

The little girl squeezed tighter and buried her face.

Tik looked down and slowly lay an arm over the little girl. It felt awkward at first, tense, unusual. She frowned slightly and shifted herself. The little girl tightened and gripped more. “It’s OK.” She relaxed her arm and drooped it over the little girl squeezing her in.

The added weight made her back sore. The little girl looked up at her with eyes that said nothing. Tik looked down and nodded. She ran her hand through the little girls grubby hair and watched as her eyes fluttered and closed.

The vulnerability struck her as she realized that not long ago she was the one asleep. Her anger over being the invalid blinded her to the fact that she was the vulnerable one. She ran her hand over the girls cold cheeks and watched her sleep.

“Nice kid,” Avi said with a smile.

“Shut the fuck up. I’ll come over there and shove my boot so far up your dumb fucking ass that your teeth will scrape the sheep shit out of my soles.” She glared at Avi. “You’ll wake her up. Now piss off.”

Avi grinned back at her. “I knew you were feeling better. A proper Marine.” He nodded and closed his eyes.

Tik looked down and watched the child sleep until the sleep came for her.

The truck had the unfortunate tendency to bounce with any bump of significance. The bounce would amplify until the wheels would nearly hop off the ground. Selim had to slow to nearly a crawl before starting forward once more. Every lurch brought the cries of the wounded.

William turned and looked into the back of the truck. His crew, he thought. Were they really his crew? He felt a nagging desire to ask each and every one about his command but quickly tossed the idea aside. He knew he needed to stand tall, if not for their sake definitely for his own.

A set of eyes caught Williams attention. Saul. The boy was looking up from the gray blanket right at him. The nasty wound looked congealed but not set. He suddenly had an odd envy, he didn’t even have scars from his ordeals as a child.

“Mr. Grace, explain to me what the plan is?” Selim said. His hands were tight on the ancient worn steel steering wheel.

“We drop the Civilians off at the next town.”

“Then?”

William looked to the Civilians. “If there’s only a Company, we might be able to rally the folks in town.”

Selim stole a glance, his eyes were angry. “Why in the fuck would we do that? We need to get off the planet.”

“Because what better diversion than starting a revolt?”

Selim narrowed his eyes and squinted another glance. “Go on.”

“We don’t have the ammunition to engage a company of mercenaries, regardless how fat and out of shape they are, so we need to use it wisely.” William gripped tight as another dip lurched the truck. “Once we stir the pot we can hit the mercs with a riot, while we seize the elevator. If they succeed then better for all of us.”

“And if they don’t?”

“They will,” David answered strongly. His back was against the cab and his eyes closed.

“How do you know?” Selim asked over his shoulder.

“My son works in a refinery, no one wants to do it anymore, but the options are a bit thin. Things have been a bit tense as of late. Quotas up and the beatings as well.”

“Who are you old man?” Selim asked.

David smiled with thin lips and nodded. “I was a Councilor, ‘the’ Councilor. I ran the Colony, my grandfather was Redmond, so I get some votes for that. I also, unfortunately, agreed to let them land.”

“Redmond?” Vito said as he perked himself up. “Is his tomb in the Capital?”

David looked confused a moment. “No, he left. Supposedly back to Earth.”

Vito blinked and took his turn as the confused party.

“So you let the mercs land?” William asked.

“At that point it was engineers, they offered work, medicine, things we didn’t have.”

“Hmph,” Selim snorted.

“Don’t judge me,” David turned and yelled up front, “we live in the shadow of what our forefathers were.”

“Enough. How many refineries are there?”

David turned to William. “Maybe two hundred, the raw ore is extracted from the south and shipped north. From there the stamp mills break it up and the refineries in the city extract the raw metals while the main refinery purifies it.”

“Two hundred? What does your capital look like?”

David closed his eyes. “Not what it used to.”

William nodded. “I would imagine.”

Selim sat with a scowl.

“Once we get into the Capital we’ll find my son, he’ll know more.”

“Time is not on our side David, this needs to happen and fast. The longer we wait to pounce the greater the chance that we are caught,” Sebastien said. He turned slightly and nodded to William. “I’m with Mr. Grace.”

Selim drove on in silence with his brows furrowed. He chewed his lower lip and concentrated on something. “So it shall be, but we need to scout it, we can’t go in like the wind. We need to do some recon.”

William nodded and looked back to David. The old man had set his jaw and looked proud. He didn’t remember what Redmond looked like very well, but he didn’t think he had any resemblance. Vito continued to stare with his mouth slightly open.

“If he didn’t come back to Earth, where did he go?” Vito asked himself.

David looked at Vito and shrugged. “There’s a statue he left at the elevator, about all we have left of him.”

William adjusted his grip and leaned into the rusty side of the cab. The hills stretched out into the horizon lazily. They seemed to be laying down with less rock poking up. An occasional flock of sheep grazed on the horizon.

The VTOL first poked over the horizon a dozen kilometers away. In a rapid commotion everyone sat up and stared as it disappeared behind another hill before popping back up. The sleek shape was hugging the landscape tightly. It looked to be the same beast that had bombarded the capsules.

Around them stretched green fields broken by an occasional stone. The low hills offered nothing to hide a man. The worries of the civilians grew louder as the whine of the rotor drifted in.

William looked into the back of the truck. The pattern armor! Aleksandr, Leduc and Crow were strapping themselves into the bulky armor.

“Did the first three have comms?” William asked quickly.

“What?” Sebastien asked.

“Radios, communicators, anything!” William said louder.

“No, nothing that I saw.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Stop the truck!” William yelled.

Selim slowly pressed on the brakes and the truck lurched forward and back like a drunken hippo. “I hope you’ve got an idea.”

“Crow, get in the drivers seat, Aleksandr, Leduc, pop in too. Everyone else in the back and lay low!” William said. He stepped off of the side of the truck and jumped into the back of the truck.

The positions were switched rapidly as the Marines and Soldiers crawled in and lay beside the Civilians. The truck bounced back into motion.

“Crow, when that VTOL comes in just stop the truck, sling the merc rifle onto your shoulder and get out.”

“Just like that? And va-voom, he goes away?” Crow asked angrily.

“I’m open to ideas,” William said softly.

Crow shook his head and drove slowly.

The VTOL creeped above the next rise and skidded sideways through the air. The blunt autocannon was pointed squarely at the truck as it pivoted around. It wavered up and down as if unsure if it wanted to remain.

Crow slowly brought the truck to a stop. It bounced back and forth before finally stopping. He sat in the seat for a second.

“Get out!” William hissed.

Crow turned and grasped the slender rifle. He dropped himself off the cab casually and slung the rifle onto his shoulder over the bulk of the armor. He took a few steps towards the VTOL.

The craft swung in the wind and hovered at a steady distance.

What the controllers of that VTOL saw must have baffled them. Crow began by waving his arms north. He followed this up with a pantomime of his hands rising like a rocket followed by a large explosion. He ended it all with a quick exaggerated jog of ten steps. This ended with a final universal gesture of ‘fuck it’ followed by a steering wheel turning gesture.

The VTOL hovered and didn’t looked convinced.

Crow gave it one final wave north and dismissed it. He turned his back and hopped up into the cab. The truck bounced as he accelerated slowly. He waved it away dismissively.

William lay as low as he could get and watched through a slat in the side. The VTOL hovered and slowly banked away before moving north. A rough hand ruffled his hair. He looked up with a smile and was greeted with Sergeant Selim grinning down at him.

“You owe me a new pair of underwear Midshipman,” Crow called over his shoulder.

The truck continued south until it finally arrived at a modest settlement. The houses were a mix of old concrete and weathered stone. The wounded were offloaded and passed into the hands of the locals.

Sebastien took special care moving Saul indoors.

Before them stretched a dirty agricultural landscape dotted with ragged farms and scraggly trees. An occasional ancient truck could be seen doddering about on the lower plains. Far off on the horizon the slender black form of the Elevator rose into the sky. It glowed orange for a brief moment as the reflection of the sun played on it in a perfect moment.

The lower line of the elevator was obscured by the horizon and a sooty smoke that seeped above it. William stood and squinted to get a better view.

“Ready for this Midshipman?” Sebastien asked.

William looked down to the augment and nodded. “Planets just don’t liberate themselves now do they?”

Sebastien snorted and leaned his head back as the truck continued south.

CHAPTER TEN

Hostage

The agricultural landscape was verdant fields, lush crops, and crude farmhouses. The only thing as common as rows of crops was rows of graveyards. It seemed that the colonization had not been as easy as had been hoped. Such was a universal truth.

The fields were plump with harvest, ripe, and in some cases going to seed. Faces worn with the endless task of toil watched in silence as they rolled past. What had been one generations escape was another’s binding.

Night began to drop. The truck bounced across the patchwork horizon of fields before finally coming into view of the Capital. What had once been pristine was now coated in grime and grit. The smelters and stamp mills gave the horizon a dim glow.

They stopped the truck. The crew piled out of the still bouncing bed. The smell of fruit tickled their noses as they stood and stared below. It was not as they had pictured.

The very upper reaches of the elevator stretched skyward like a golden thread. The light rose at a steady pace hiding the thread as the night came on. A giant rectangular building was perched on an empty rise with hills of slag and debris surrounding it. A comm tower poked skywards with scaffolding about the edge.

All around stretched vertical towers with weights dropping below. Near to those was a hellish sputtering as the arc furnaces torched the darkness. Nothing could separate the ores of ill repute quite like the pure white burn of a carbon rod.

The center of the city was dim. The buildings seemed to cower in the shadow of the brutish constructions nearby. A crisp smoke blew in that smelled of burnt wire and pickled steel.

“It wasn’t always like this,” David said. He raised his hands to point at the city but caught himself and stopped. His face was rimed with sadness.

“What’s on the roof of the big building?” Tero asked in the twangy accent of Mars.

“Dat is drone pods,” Von Hess said. He leaned against the truck and favored his good leg.

William scoured the plains below for entry points. Cover everywhere. They could get in and close through the slag piles. “Can we shut them down inside?”

“Yah, if you can get to the control station.”

“And if we can’t?” Crow asked.

Von Hess shrugged. “Get to the roof then yes? Drop the comm tower.”

Sebastien pointed to the base of the elevator. A handful of orange sodium lights winked in the thermals. “Looks pretty quiet.”

“Why would anyone go there? We don’t have a ship at the top,” David said.

Sebastien rose his eyes upwards. “Hmm, I bet they do.”

William turned to David. “Where is your son?”

“I can find him, but it may take me some time.”

“We don’t have time,” Sebastien said.

William nodded. “Not much at least.” He pointed to the comm tower on the peak of the refinery. “Xan, can we use that comm array?”

“Maybe, if there’s anything worth talking to,” Xan replied.

Sebastien smiled a warm smile and looked up to the sky.

“We’re going to cut the flank, come in on the side away from the refinery. If they send troops north now they’ll come right by us here,” Crow said.

“Why not smoke em here?” Avi asked and pointed at the cover.

“Go pick fruit,” Crow ordered. “And think about that.”

“Call me stupid, and I’ll pick fruit too, but why is it a bad idea?” Vito asked.

Crow pointed to the surroundings. “They come in, we engage, they turn and get back into the refinery mess. Now they can use the cover and we can’t get to the objective. If there were a dozen units assaulting the capital it’d be an option, but we’ve got one chance. Need to make it stick.”

“I see, I’ll help Avi,” Vito added softly as he walked into the orchard.

William kept his mouth shut and listened. He knew this wasn’t the right place but he knew enough to listen and learn. It looked formidable, dirty, rough, but how did that compare to the pristine death in the snow? He kicked the dirt and marveled at feeling a warm breeze. He could just lay on his back and be completely content.

The truck turned a hard right and flanked the edge of the city. An occasional apple core bounced off the road behind. Avi had done an exceptional job picking while Vito carried the bounty. The apples were an amazing thing to marvel over and savor.

The truck slowly descended the bowl and began to enter into the slums. Rock hovels were roofed with ragged sheets of slate. Survival was the design, meager was the supplier. The truck pulled behind a low group.

“We do shifts of two, go down the line, everyone stays in the truck,” Crow called from the cab.

“David,” William called in the dim light. “How long till you find your boy?”

“Eh? Well, I’ll know in the morning, it all looks so different here.”

William sighed and nodded. Just what he needed, they had to wait another night.

Judging from the light on the horizon they were still about 20 kilometers out of the main city. The slums and stamp mills grew on the perimeter. An occasional arc popped from the shabby lines of an electrical conductor. The lines drooped lazily off of concrete poles.

The temperature dropped quickly as the dampness rose around them. William curled himself up with a filthy sleeping bag. He wondered as he fell asleep if he would ever sleep in a real bed.

William awoke to a hissing sound and a rough hand shaking his shoulder. He sat up and reached for the sidearm tucked into his jacket. He blinked and saw the men around him sliding off of the rear of the truck and dropping down onto the ground.

A white searchlight beamed through the hovels and grew steadily closer.

“Shit,” William said.

“Follow me,” Avi said as he grabbed William by the elbow.

The orange industrial light, even at 20 kilometers, still gave a slight sickly glow. William could make out the walls, the general contours, but couldn’t see individual men. The light blinked behind a stamp mill and reappeared on the opposite side.

Avi sighed. “I’d kill someone to get a comms.”

William agreed. Everyone had nanites implanted that would work off of a local comm network. Unfortunately without the proper hardware they simply sat idle. During the day it was easy enough, but now things would become a bit more difficult.

The harsh white beam reappeared and swung back and forth lazily. The back reflection illuminated a small flat bed truck. A single wide headlight provided dim illumination for the driver. The light hadn’t yet found them, but it was heading on the road they sat near.

“Avi! Can you see anyone?” William whispered. He lacked the nano-augmented night vision that the ground troops had.

“Shh, when they come in they’ll be caught in a crossfire. Just wait!” Avi whispered in reply. He slid the barrel of his weapon onto a pile of rubble and waited.

William watched and dropped the pistol nose lower. The truck was still a hundred meters off. It was going to pass close enough to toss a rock at. He looked at the hovels around him, it wouldn’t take but a single burst to wake up the inhabitants. Then they’d really have a mess.

He shivered slightly. The adrenaline was beginning to flow. The back of his mouth tingled as he squeezed the pistol. The aim was odd, it just didn’t feel the same as aiming a rifle.

How perfect can a firefight be? William knew that ideally they would drop everyone in a single volley, not a single return shot. He didn’t even know if anyone would shoot. Would they wait till sighted or take the initiative?

Avi crunched the rubble as he adjusted his weapon. The truck prowled from view behind a low line of stamped sand. Above them only the brightest stars poked through the thick air.

The truck came into view slowly and ambled down the final approach. The dim headlight bobbed into view as the searchlight swung from side to side. The hovels looked even worse wilting under the precise beam of the searchlight.

The silence was eerie. The slight whine of the electric motor was only broken by the creeping crunch and popping pong of the suspension. The truck must have shared the same designer as the cattle truck that the survivors rode in.

A single muzzle blast exploded from the other side of the road. The rapid burp of the rounds impacting the truck was followed up by that terrible symphony erupting all around. The flash at the end of each barrel was a hint of orange surrounded by a blue plasma layer. The beauty was evident if you had the ability to admire it in a firefight.

At the first shot William pointed the pistol and pulled the trigger. The weapon leapt in his grasp like an angry animal. His night vision was gone as he had been watching the truck approach.

He cursed his stupidity. The first barrage that went out had popped the headlight and searchlight. The enemy would be as night blind as he was. Just to feel slightly useful he leveled the pistol once more and prepared to fire at the first muzzle blast he saw.

A voice cried out in pain. The hovels were awakening with voices calling into the darkness. A horrible wailing began as if an animal was wounded.

William turned his head and tried to pinpoint the sound. His night vision was slowly coming back. The voice before him was pleading in a language he didn’t know.

A rapid popping sound came from the truck. William slid his head down and fired a round into the direction it came. He realized he wasted a precious, irreplaceable round and waited for a better shot. The mournful wailing continued.

“What do you see?” William asked.

Avi poked his head up slightly. He wore a slender pair of the nightvision glasses. “There’s a man on ground rolling around. Someone set something off.” He strained forward and pushed some of the rubble pile.

William watched as Avi popped off a single round into the darkness. The wailing stopped.

A second later a scream belted out into the darkness. William sat up higher and scanned into the areas that had enough light to see. A man was on the ground 20 meters away from him and rolling about madly. “Avi! Cover me,” William said as he crouched and sprinted to the form.

William reached Kerry who was rolling around grasping at something on his back like it was on fire. William slapped at Kerry’s back and recoiled when he felt a hard metallic shape.

“Get it off! Get the fucken thing off!” Kerry cried.

The thing was about the size of a large apple. It was firmly latched to his flesh.

William grasped the bitter edges of the thing and reefed. Kerry howled. The metallic thing was bored right into Kerry’s flesh. William cracked at it with the barrel of his pistol but it did nothing.

“Shoot it, shoot it off!” Kerry cried as he writhed in pain on the ground.

A loud blast echoed from the truck as a grenade was detonated. The night sky turned titanium white for a split second. William felt a deep shift in his gut as the concussion wave hit.

He focused his attention on the monstrosity bored onto Kerry’s back. He turned the pistol sideways and laid it against the curve of Kerry’s back. The bullet would, hopefully, pass through the construct and destroy it. If it was deflected it would blow a hole right through his back. William slid his finger onto the crisp trigger and turned his head.

The thing dropped away in a hollow clatter and sat idle at his feet. He released his breath and stepped back, keeping the pistol leveled at it.

Kerry scrambled forward and rubbed the hole on his back. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing, it just fell off.”

“Clear! Vito, c’mon up!” Crow yelled from the hostile truck.

William grabbed the drone. It was like a hollow can in his hands. He walked up to the truck cautiously holding the item like an egg. The dim light wasn’t enough to show details.

Crow was hunched next to a man in gray coveralls with combat webbing on his chest. His hands worked quickly as he patted and emptied the pockets. The man was dead.

Near to him Vito was bent over another man. Avi stood above him with the barrel of his weapon pointed at his chest. This one was alive. A light flickered and Crow tossed a small pen light over. The man wore red slices on his arms, evidence of the wire grenades.

More screams came from the surrounding hovels.

Selim shouted, “Find out what’s going on!”

Eduardo came and squatted next to the truck and ran his hands over the edge of the bed where the drones emerged. A dim glow came from the tattoos on his arms as the grubby uniform stretched back. “Oh, what are you?” he mumbled.

“I’ve got one here,” William said as he held the thing before him. He looked over at the wounded man. Foamy spit hung onto his lips as he formed words with no sound.

“Oh! Jesus!” Eduardo cried out. “Drop it!”

William dropped the empty metal thing and stepped away as if burned. “What? What is it?”

“Oh shit,” Vito said as he scrambled back.

“Do I shoot it?” William asked pointing the pistol at the dark spot on the ground.

“No, no, is it empty? Did it already go off?” Eduardo asked.

“It was on Kerry, on his back, what is it?” William asked again.

“Is it empty!” Eduardo shouted.

“Yes, yes!” William replied hurriedly.

Vito talked slowly. “It is a nanite virus carrier. You drop those when you need to control a population, doesn’t kill them, just makes them sick, like a flu.”

“Oh shit.”

“We’re inoculated, but they can explode if handled before finding a host,” Eduardo said as he kicked it.

“Kerry too?” William asked.

“He’ll shit, he’ll shit a river of dead nanites, but he’ll be fine,” Eduardo said.

“We’ve got a problem,” Sebastien said as he dropped another hollow injector.

“Where did you find it?” Eduardo asked.

“On a Civilian.”

“Oh…” Vito replied as he laid a fresh bandage down.

“Three days Vito?” Eduardo asked.

“Maybe four,” Vito replied.

“Till what?” William asked.

“Till the entire civilian population is so sick they’d turn in their own grandmothers.”

William turned and stomped on the empty canister. “Is he going to live?”

“I think so,” Vito said.

“Toss him in the truck, we better go,” Crow said. His arms cradled more of the slender weapons.

The stamp mill sat like a beacon of rust and slag. The entire purpose of the machine was to rise up and slam down on whatever was beneath. Each smash would drive the ore into tinier and tinier bits. Those bits would be stamped again, and again, until a neighboring refinery could siphon out the useful minerals.

The once proud pillar now lay idle, caked with grit. Only the slides that the piston rode on still shone, polished by millions of relentless cycles. It was into this pit that they laid the captive.

The light played over his skin in that dim orange sky. Light reflected off of the microscopic cuts from that Chilean filament grenade. His teeth were locked and his shoulders drawn up to his neck. The fear was like an animal stink.

William squatted down next to him. “What’s your name?”

The eyes opened slightly wider. White reflected orange.

“Name?” Crow asked.

“Dzavi,” he replied with his tongue thick in his mouth.

Crow nodded. “Dzavi. Where are you from?”

“Samoa.”

“Fuck,” a voice said from the darkness.

“Shut up,” Crow called. “What is a fine boy from Samoa doing here?”

Dzavi looked to William than back to Crow. “Working.”

“You better find a few more syllables Dzavi.” William shuffled sideways as he squatted on his haunches. He now looked down at the captives face.

“What kind of work?” Crow asked.

“We watch the refinery, keep the ore coming in, keep things from getting out of hand.” He looked up at William and shifted slightly. “Who are you?”

“Who gets the elements?” Crow asked.

“Who are you?” Dzavi asked again.

William looked up to Crow and shrugged. “My name is William.”

“Where did you come from?” Dzavi asked in the thick Samoan accent.

William looked back to Crow with a questioning glance. The captive’s question said more than any answer could.

“Only one place to come from,” Crow said.

“Are you going to shoot me?” Dzavi asked without any fear in his voice.

“No. When we’re done the locals will get you, you’ll follow the legal process that they have.” William bluffed.

“And they’ll shoot me?”

“Did you do anything to deserve getting shot?” Crow asked.

Dzavi kept quiet and stared into the darkness above.

“I’ll be back,” William said as he walked away from the captive.

He found Vito over Kerry. Sebastien held the slender penlight. A fresh bandage covered the hole from the nanite drone. Dark lines scratched along his back tracing the veins.

“How do you feel?”

“I’ve got to shit again.”

“He’ll be fine, in a day or two,” Vito said as he wrapped the bandage tighter.

“Samoans I hear,” Sebastien said.

“Samoans.”

“Shit,” Kerry said through clenched teeth.

“Why the Samoan thing?” William asked. The fear seemed irrational to him.

“Did they keep you under a rock?” Vito asked. He tied the bandage tight and slapped Kerry on the bottom. “Now go, shit somewhere else.”

“Well, no,” William replied defensively.

Vito sighed. “So the Chinese couldn’t ship just anyone into space, they needed a group that was willing to go, otherwise no one would let them colonize. So they go and poke all those little islands that are eroding away and send them out first. The first colonists are the Samoans, so they have this mystique as being special because of it.”

“And the Hun use them as shock troops now, they had no home before, and the Hun helped them out,” Sebastien said.

“Quit using that term, they’re not Hun,” Vito said with a shiver.

“As it stands they offer themselves out as private contractors,” Vito said. “Like any merc they like easily won wars that are morally ambiguous.”

“Are these Mercs then, or is this sponsored?” William asked.

“I doubt he’ll know, and anyways, if the Hun or Sa’Ami hired them this guy would never know.”

William nodded and looked back down the dark hallway where the captive lie.

“I fought Hun once,” Sebastien said with a look at Vito, “these guys are professionals, we’re going to need these civilians to get this job done.”

“Coming around are we?” William asked.

“Just logic.”

“I’m going to check with Crow, you guys want to ask him any questions?” William asked.

Vito shook his head. Sebastien tapped his nose and nodded. “Ask him if he fought on New Mecca.”

William walked through the silent complex and found Crow standing outside the room. His chin was resting on his chest.

“Sergeant?” William asked.

“Yes Mr. Grace?” Crow asked without raising his head.

“I just, well, you seemed to be asleep,” William said sheepishly.

Crow raised his head. “He’s a grunt, claims to be a Mercenary, born on Samoa, the planet not the Island. He’s a bit cagey, says they have a brigade, armor, drones, air support.”

“What do you think of that?”

“He’s full of shit, they’ve got some crowd control drones, we know that, and a rusty old VTOL.”

William debating mentioning that a rusty VTOL still shot real bullets but decided to keep his mouth shut.

“What do we do with him?” Crow asked.

“Leave him with the locals.”

Crow nodded as William walked back into the room.

Dzavi looked raised his head up and followed William with his eyes.

“Dzavi, were you on New Mecca?”

Dzavi shone his teeth back like an animal. “No.”

William nodded with a slight smile. “I hear you have a brigade, armor, the whole nine yards. Our orbital surveillance didn’t show any of that.” He didn’t have orbital surveillance but he knew Dzavi didn’t know that.

The man looked up at the ceiling in silence.

“New Mecca wasn’t quite as easy as this eh?”

Gravel crunched as Dzavi sat slightly upwards. “You get fucked.”

William took a step closer and squatted down next to him. “What do you really have here?”

“If you need to know you didn’t bring enough to worry us, you’re bluffing, you don’t have shit, so get fucked, they’ll come down once these people are shitting themselves and skullfuck you,” Dzavi said with an orange gleam in his eye.

“Ahh, well, have you ever met Striders before?”

Dzavi looked back in silence. His eyes smoldered.

“Rend a mans flesh in the darkness, never even hear them…” William stood and walked out of the room and into the darkness. Nothing drew fear from a man like a phantom in the darkness.

Sebastien looked in past William and nodded. “He was there yes?”

“I think so, but what does that tell us?” William asked.

“They’ll do anything if cornered, only reason they made it off New Mecca is they cut the elevator. They had real nano weapons then though, was nasty.”

“You were there?” William asked surprised. He knew better than to ask what it was like.

“From the start, watched the Hun hit our cruisers, saw them burn up in the atmosphere for two days. Then a month later watched the Hun fleet burn up too.” Sebastien pointed into the room. “If we don’t succeed here these people are in for a world of hurt.”

“Well, lets not fail then eh?” William said with a slight smile.

Sebastien snorted and walked into the darkness.

William watched the captive and wondered how tough the legendary Samoans really were.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Shift

The crackling roar of the arc furnaces burnt an artificial dawn in the misty morning. The rhythmic stomping of the mills broke loose dust that rained upon the survivors. The men creaked up and into the dim light, watching for whatever the sunrise would reveal.

Sergeant Crow squatted over the captured weapons. They were slender in form, yet still an assault rifle. The ammo slabs were formed into a half moon cylinder. Each of these were slapped onto the bottom of the rifle.

He ran his fingers over the growing mustache and nodded to William. The mustache was beginning to look like a proper Turkish mustache. William kicked his toe against one of the weapons. It thudded with a dull plastic sound.

“Can we use them?”

“Hmm, if they’re not coded.”

“I don’t know what that is,” William said quietly. He had learned long before that it was always better to admit ignorance than have it discovered.

“If the weapons were coded to a user than no one can use them.”

“Oh.” William looked closer at the rifle. “What if you try?”

“Well, some just won’t cycle, others destroy the internals, and some blow up.”

“Which is why we haven’t used them yes?”

Crow nodded silently. “We could ask our friend down the hall, but I doubt I’d trust his answer.”

“So what do we do?”

“Ahh well, in a case like this you just try it. First with no ammo, then you just got to give it a shot,” Crow said leaving the shot part hanging.

William stooped over and grabbed onto the slender weapon. It was heavier than it looked. The nanite core had been removed. This weapon, as with all well designed weapons, required no instruction. He slid the firing assembly back and a crumbled mass popped out. Empty now.

“Wait…” Crow began to say.

Click.

“Hmph.”

William smiled back and slid the nanite core into place. A nearby stamp mill pounded every 12 seconds. The jarring rattle boomed every fifth stamp as fresh ore was added. He pointed the weapon towards a pile of stamped sand and waited. The stamps pounded down until the giant sound came again.

Boom. The rifle fired a strange harmonic with the stamp. Crow nodded in satisfaction as he inspected the rifle. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Leduc walked briskly into the room with rough leather bags under his arms. A moist grainy smell followed behind. “Ding ding! Breakfast!”

“Where did you find food?” Crow asked suspiciously, though not so suspicious that he didn’t walk closer.

“Stand in line long enough and who knows what you find eh?” Leduc replied with a mischievous eye. “Rye I think…”

“Can’t say I’d argue Corporal, though next time try for an Omelet,” Crow said as he scooped out a handful with a battered plastic bowl.

“I won’t ask,” William said scooping some. “But don’t get caught.”

“No worries, I was only caught once yes?” Leduc replied as he strolled off.

“Once is enough.. Oh Corporal, tell everyone to come here once they’re done eating.”

“Yes Sir… Oh, David left with me, he’s off to find his son.”

William, hungry as he was, found the stiff rye porridge to be mostly unappetizing. It didn’t help that the only flavoring seemed to come from a tallowy substance. His teeth felt waxed and he couldn’t help running his tongue over them.

The men walked in and sat around the pile of weapons. William watched a few of the men licking their teeth. “Corporal, thank you for the breakfast, though next time hold the wax please.”

Smiles and chuckles went up around the room.

“This is where we’re at. The hostiles know someone is here, they don’t seem to know who yet. We’ve got three days until the locals are incapacitated from the nanite flu, and the razor drones could come out at any moment. We need the elevator, but can’t hold it unless we take out the mercs and the razor drones.” William paused and let it sink in. “Now, since I’m a Naval officer and not a combat specialist I’m going to sit back and listen to you fine troops hash this out.” William sat on a rough ball of ore and held his hands out to the group.

William sat in silence with the other Naval crew and watched as the Marines debated points with the Army. The sticking point was how to assault the Refinery with mostly unarmed civilians. The elevator was the goal, but useless unless the Samoans were out of the picture.

The only thing they didn’t worry about was the VTOL. It wouldn’t be of much use to anyone in the thick urban environment. The razor drones though… knocking out the drone comms was goal number one. Without it the little balls of razor and steel would end any hope.

“We move in two groups. One heads to the refinery, and a second group to the elevator. If David’s son can get us a good number of locals we have a good chance of a diversion. If not, we hit the elevator first, then disappear. Once they send out troops to reinforce it we hit the Refinery,” Sebastien said as he pointed to small rocks laid out before them.

“We need to scout them out,” Selim said nudging the rocks with his feet.

Sebastien nodded. “Tonight, once the sun drops we recon both targets. Hopefully we’ve found our Militia by then too.”

“Clean your weapons, get some rest, and stay inside,” Crow said nodding at Leduc.

William felt as good about the odds as he felt about the rye.

He found Vito watching the prisoner. The old stamping chamber was damp and cool. The metal surrounding it held onto the nights chill.

“Morning Vito, what did you think of the rye?” William asked.

Vito wrinkled his nose. “The texture was a bit toothsome, but it sure makes your teeth feel shiny.”

William nodded and smiled. “Anything out of our friend?”

Vito shook his head. “No, I asked him about records or the Covenant, he just looked at me like I was crazy.”

“I doubt he holds much stock in the Covenant.”

“No, but both the Sa’Ami and the Harmony Worlds have agreed to it, just haven’t signed it.”

William smirked at the thought. “You mean Hun, hard to run a slave empire with a Covenant.”

“Ahh indeed,” Vito said quietly. He leaned his back against the rough concrete. “Though I’m more curious about Mr. Redmond.”

“What about him?”

“Well, David said he left, this was supposed to be it, his destination, the man who launched all those colonies, so where’d he go?”

William shrugged. “We can debate it once we’re up in orbit. If you can track down some records, be my guest.”

“I’ll do that,” Vito said as he stared off into space.

“We’re doing a bit of recon this evening, you stick here with the other Naval ratings, shoot our friend if he does anything unfriendly.”

Vito looked at William and nodded.

The crew huddled in the morning shadows until the sun finally broke the stilted mist. A fine gray haze wept away the brightest colors. All around them raw industry continued. Dust plumes rose from stamp mills. Thermal pillars twinkled above the smelters. Trucks ambled by with cargo of ore or the finest powder.

David returned in the afternoon, escorted by a younger man draped in grit coated clothing. His face was covered in a thick grit that was clean only in the wrinkles of his brow. His eyes were like Davids, but sharp and angry.

“Midshipman Grace, this is my son, Peter, Saul’s father,” David said in a tired voice.

William extended a hand and was greeted by a grip that was tense. “We owe your father much, thank you for coming.”

“He told me what happened,” Peter said in a raspy voice. He looked at the men around the room. “Is this it?”

William nodded slowly. “Yes, this is it.”

Peter didn’t look happy. “What do you hope to accomplish?”

“Capture the elevator, the refinery, and get your government to sign the Covenant,” William stated clearly.

“That’s it? Well, be my guest,” Peter said loudly. He shook his head and stared at the floor.

“I’ve two options, either I help you or I turn you in. Either one could put me into the same position, or even worse off.”

William nodded. “Yes, you could turn us in, hope for the remedy, but what then?”

Vito walked in slowly. “And what about next week, or next month? What do you think they’ll do when the ore is played out?”

Peter looked at Vito with hard eyes.

“This isn’t something that is going to end, this will be the future of your planet. Toil, slavery, bondage,” Vito said as he pointed to the rusted machinery around them.

Peter stood in silence in the shadow cast by the tilted stamp mill. He looked to his father for a moment and returned his stare to the floor. “If, and it’s a big if, we help, we need to get my people out fast.”

William nodded. “We just need you to stir it up a bit, can you manage that?”

“I was a councilman before this all came to be, I know how to work a crowd. Now let’s talk about what happens after this…”

Vito took the discussion from that point. William briefed the men. The scouting operation would go out at nightfall with one recon team heading to the elevator, while William would go out with the other to scout the refinery center. The remainder would lay low in the stamp mill.

William slept in the damp slag and dreamed once more of playing with his Father in the caverns. The giant machines around him reminded him of the things in that cavern long ago. He awoke as if he had just closed his eyes and prepared himself.

The sun was barely set when the gray darkness came about. The night mist hadn’t settled. The darkness was deeper than it would be three hours later. Each team was sent with a guide. Peter and David had provided well.

William was guided by a man named Jebediah. Short of stature with closely cropped yellow hair. His eyes ran with tears every time he spoke. Stamp sand he insisted. For work he plunged a carbon rod in a refinery, regulating the arc to coalesce the stamp sand. To William he looked like a recovering drunk.

The streets emptied quickly until they were the only ones padding through. The stillness of the air was broken by a mechanical hiss coming from the refineries. Whatever was inside never slept.

They came upon the boundary road that encircled the complex. Heaps of slag sat just away from a three meter fence. The road was a thing of dust and ruts. Every load of stamped ore followed that path to the main gate.

William poked his head over the slag rise and took in the sight. Sebastien lay next to him mumbling numbers to himself. Jebediah slinked away to scout the return route.

The perimeter of the building was wreathed in orange sodium lights while the upper reaches were dark. The building was an industrial featureless gray. William knew the razor pods were above in the darkness and feared to see them released again. The guilt rose inside of him.

The main gate led to a receiving area. This was flanked on either side by storage yards, heaped with containers of overburden. Beyond was the entry doors, unfortunately closed. No patrol was seen in that orange glare.

William crunched back down the slag rise. “What do you think?”

Sebastien shrugged. “It’s a prefab, it’ll be mostly hollow inside. The problem will be keeping them from turtling up and just launching the drones.”

“Suggestions?”

“Fire always works,” Sebastien replied with a smile.

“But what would burn?” William asked as he pictured a steel building filled with refined ore.

“Grenades,” Sebastien replied seriously.

“Grenades?”

Sebastien nodded with a wide smile. “Grenades.”

“We get the civilians to rush the fence and move in using those containers for cover. Once they can clear that gate we can move in on the flank.”

“They get some grenades?” William asked. He pictured a rabid mob being mowed down at the gates.

“And we give them a few of our weapons too.”

William turned to the Marine with a curious look. “Why some of ours?”

“We’ve got a few weapons that are almost out of ammo and also to confuse the enemy. They’ll have no idea where they got them from. They know someone is here, but not who.”

William nodded. He understood the logic but didn’t relish the bloodshed that would befall the civilians.

Footsteps crept in through the dark along the slag heap. William and Sebastien laid low in the shadows. It was a 30 meter sprint to reach more cover. Jebediah had gone a different direction.

“Shh, just wait,” Sebastien whispered.

William slowed his breathing and turned his head slightly till it rested on the cool slag. It tickled his bearded cheek as he waited for the walker. His eyes adjusted to the orange glow and a man stepped into view.

A single orange pinprick flared for a second before dimming again. The hint of tobacco smoke wafted over William. As the person approached, William saw a stubby assault rifle was slung over his shoulder.

The cigarette flared once more. Footsteps came closer at a leisurely pace. The man had his eyes raised to the sky. He stared at the brightest pinpricks of light that pierced the foggy veil.

William could feel himself begin to sweat. As long as the man kept his eyes skyward he’d not see them. But if he looked down there would be no doubt that he and Sebastien would be seen. He reached into his jacket and slid out the polymer blade as quietly as he could manage.

The blade rested in his fingers with the tip bedded in the slag. The man came closer. The rifle slung on his side was tempting, but in this case would drag him into trouble, not out of it.

Sebastien laid next to him in silence. William could feel his breath against his neck. Whatever happened William would be the first one to act, though the augment would back him up, he was sure of it.

The walker was so close now he could hear the cigarette crackle as he inhaled. William closed his eyes to the barest slit and watched. The man was at the end of the cigarette. He stopped, turned, and arced the spent ember over the slag pile. Over William and Sebastien.

There was a moment of recognition where the man was admiring the arc of the embers. His eyes slid down that rustled bank and over an unknown form. William sensed it. He could feel that recognition as the man stopped. It gnawed in his stomach and he sprang up.

The man reached behind and stepped backwards in a smooth motion. The rifle was momentarily out of reach. The polymer blade came in as the man panicked to reach the rifle.

William pushed it in just below his sternum and held the blade rigidly in his hands. The initial softness gave way to a stiff springiness. The scent of tobacco smoke and a hint of musky cologne hit his nose. The man gasped and dropped to the ground.

The rifle clattered from his grip as the sling came loose. His knees wobbled for a slight second and then he stiffened. William had never seen a man die to a knife wound before.

Had he known better he would have stripped the blade out and pushed it in once more. But he didn’t and the man turned and lurched away. The polymer blade pierced into his breast. The man was dead, but his body didn’t know it yet.

A low moan built into an intense scream as the stabbed man gained momentum. William sprinted after and tackled him onto the ground. The mass of the man squirmed and moaned in agony.

Why isn’t he dead? What the hell is he doing? William couldn’t fathom why the man wasn’t dying. To him a knife wound seemed basic, something you succumb to. Little did he know that it was the most agonizing way to die. His blade had missed all critical organs, the man was simply bleeding to death like a stuck animal.

The thrashing came next as the animal inside woke and tried to escape the piercing wound. William grasped the shoulders and shook the man, slamming his chest into the ground. A piece of slag glittered nearby. He scooped it up and drove the raw glassy edges against the mans head. Once. Twice. Three times.

The final blow caved the skull in and the man was silent and still.

William caught his breath. His heart was humming like a tuned engine. His arms were sore and his joints felt metallic. He turned hurriedly and saw Sebastien watching him, still laying on the ground where he left him.

“Why didn’t you help?” William said through the darkness.

Sebastien stood slowly and walked over. He grasped the leg of the dead man and drug him the thirty meters into the truly dark divide between the buildings. “Sometimes you gotta know a mans got it in him.” He dropped the leg with a thud. “There’s a trust now, we get into a fight and I know.”

William was without words as he stood in the shadows.

Sebastien kneeled down and stripped the body of anything useful. He yanked the knife free and tossed it to William. The stubby assault rifle was unlike the other weapons. “Hun,” Sebastien mumbled as he slung it onto his shoulder.

The adrenaline seeped out and the sickness came back. He wasn’t retching, but the metallic taste was deep in his throat. All he wanted to do was go and sleep. He felt tarnished, dull, but not remorseful. He walked away wondering if that should bother him.

The night grew damp as the dim moon poked out from between the rolling pews of fog. William couldn’t help but feel that it held an air of mystery. This feeling soon ebbed as he realized he was still hungry. The thought of a proper meal was ever on the edge of his mind.

He wondered what he had become. An hour before he stabbed a man to death, now he was wondering if Leduc could steal something other than porridge. He followed behind Sebastien and the local guide Jebediah. He was fairly sure Jebediah was drunk, but drunk like someone who operates in a permanent haze of ethanol.

They turned into the hovels that bordered the abandoned stamp mill and loud voices carried through the air. William patted the pistol as he ran low behind Sebastien. He peeked around a corner and saw a group of men arguing with Crow and David.

William stepped out and walked towards the group. “What is this?” he said angrily. “Keep your damn voices down. Sergeant, what’s going on here?”

The civilians were grouped behind David. The group stood on heels with arms crossed and eyes glittering in the orange. None of them looked excited to see the liberators.

“Bit of a disagreement Sir,” Crow said softly. His weapon, while not pointed at them wasn’t pointing in a friendly way.

“We want you out, you’re going to get us killed,” yelled a man in dirty orange coveralls. He shook his fist and stamped as he spoke.

The group of men around him nodded with stiff chins.

The man was emboldened by his cohorts. “What gives you the right?” he asked with eyes hazed by alcohol. “To come here and decide our fate?” He stomped to the side and pointed to the glow in the sky. “What if we like it? What do you bring? My grandchildren aren’t sick, no one starves!” The man spat and glared at William.

William stood and stared at the group of men. He knew what they were thinking, he debated it himself. He wanted to look to Sebastien, or find Vito, but he knew that it stopped here. They wanted answers, from him, now. “Had I had a choice we’d have come in and done this the proper way. Unfortunately that didn’t happen and we’re forced to do this the hard way.”

“Gonna get us shot!” the orange suited man howled.

“Do you enjoy being slaves?” William asked quietly as he turned his head to stare into the orange glow of the refinery.

“We can leave whenever we want,” the orange suited man said smugly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“All of you? Or your children in ten years? Step back and look, everything you have is different, they can take what they want, do as they please, or simply burn you from orbit. You have nothing but the trifles they allow,” William spat as he spoke. He pointed up at the shadow of the stamp mill. “You’re nothing but a tool, to make a product, to be discarded and scrapped when finished, or repurposed into something unpleasant.”

“We have what we need, just leave!”

William snorted. “Has David told you about the Covenant? Told you the protection it holds?”

“Lies from a snake, nothing but a politician he was.”

William was afraid that David wasn’t everything he said to be. “Did he tell you that you can do as you please, trade freely, and get the protections to prevent this slavery?”

“We’re not slaves!” the man slurred.

“Bullshit, you know it, the look in your eyes spells it, and the hunch in your back proves it. You aren’t descended from fearful men, go find your roots, know that this isn’t how it was.”

“But we’ll be shot!”

“You’ll be shot anyways,” William snapped. He had turned the tide from fear of the unknown to fear of the obvious. “Fight with us and gain the freedom to choose your future. Stand on this day and your planet will remember it forever, bow down and you’ll be forgotten in weeks, whispered only as the men who would not stand.”

The air hung with dampness in a dim orange glare. Even the drunk man in orange stared into the darkness at his feet. This was the future, their future, and they would decide it.

“Make your choice, our time is running thin. We might die without your help, but all of us will wake tomorrow morn as truly free men,” William said as he walked slowly into the shadows.

Quick footsteps crunched in the gravel behind him. William turned with Sebastien as Selim ran up with Leduc, Vito, and Avi behind him. Avi looked hyped and even the serene Leduc had a glimmer in his eye. Vito looked simply out of breath and tired.

Selim took a single, slow, deep breath and a snap salute. “Mr. Grace,” he said eying the civilian crowd. “May we speak inside?”

William nodded towards the inside of the stamp mill. “Of course Sergeant, after you.”

Selim stepped out of earshot of the civilians. The group stood and argued with a reinvigorated David. “We saw Grue.”

William took a breath. He hadn’t expected that news. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, we were scouting the elevator and saw him come through on a troop truck. They started reinforcing the terminal.”

“Wait a second, he was with the mercs?”

Selim nodded excitedly. “He didn’t have a weapon, but he was definitely with them.”

Now William understood the excitement. The enemy knew they were here, and more importantly who they were. But what about Berry?

David walked into the conversation with his son by his side. The pair stood off to the side waiting for permission to come closer. David looked worn, tired, old.

“What is it David?” William asked as he beckoned them forward.

“They will stand with us, for now, but none of them are satisfied, they have much to lose if this doesn’t succeed.”

“So how is it then, you were once in charge here, and now they are?”

David nodded slowly. “Something like that.”

“We’re not involved in your politics, we’ve got a mission and then we’re gone, use us as a crutch at your own peril,” William said as he pointed a finger at the old man. “Get your people ready, we strike at shift change. Sergeant, get everyone back and ready, time to get this done with.”

The pair walked out slowly. Peter turned, framed in the orange light and spoke. “You’ll lose just your lives if this fails, we’ll lose our planet, our families, our future.”

William looked Peter in the eyes with cold eyes and nodded. “I’m the only one here who truly understands what that means. We’ll do our part, you do yours.”

Peter looked back in silence and then turned and walked away.

The weapon was laid out in blocky segments. Each piece simple but precise. A polished plate, an oval pin, a serrated slot. Each one snapped into the next as Tik checked her weapon once more.

“Tik. You’re with Hess,” Selim said as he looked down at the weapon.

She looked up and shook her head. “I’m with the fireteam Sergeant.”

“Negative, I can see the limp. You’re in reserve,” Selim replied.

“Sergeant, I can do more pull-ups than anyone here, I think-” she protested.

“No.” Selim shook his head. “If you fall behind you hold the squad up.”

Tik nodded knowing better than to argue. She seethed inside as the NCO walked away. She checked the action once more and slammed it home with a smack of her palm. She hadn’t come all this damn way to sit on the sidelines and watch the men handle the work.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Assault

William blinked away the sleep and was greeted by a dull orange glow not of the rising sun but of the sodium lamps. He let out a slight sigh. This was it. The morning that would tell whether or not he would reach for the stars or was buried in a ditch.

He fell in with the rest of the men and ate from the rough bag of rye porridge. The bitter taste lingered on his tongue, the slick tallow as the only flavoring besides salt. The hunger was kept at bay, but his body still demanded something more. Visions of thin crackling sausages teased him as the featureless paste went down.

Eyes were on him as he ate in silence. Vito plopped down and scooped at the meal quietly. William looked around and caught glances on occasion. The adrenaline was rising through the room. The fight was itching to get started.

Sergeant Selim sat down with his legs crossed near William. He tapped his leg and nodded to himself as he waited for William to eat.

Sebastien came with Crow and both squatted, completing the circle. The time had arrived. He scraped the plastic bowl one last time and nodded. The civilians were waiting outside.

“Go over it once more,” Sebastien said softly with his eyes closed.

Crow began. “Mr Grace, Sebastien, Myself, Aleksandr, Avi, Xinhu, and Xan all hit the complex.”

Selim went next. “I’ve got Vito, Tero, Leduc, Kerry, Eduardo, O’Toole, with Tik and Von Hess in backup.”

Sebastien nodded and tapped the ground. “The plan?”

William responded. “Keep it simple.”

Selim finished the phrase, “Because it’s going to change.”

“Right, we blow our way into the refinery once the civilians hit the front door. While the civilians jam the door and set some grenades off. We move in and make our way up,” Sebastien said with a sweep of his hand.

“Elevator crew will hold the forces there down and wait until the refinery is secured. Once the main asset is down we siege,” Selim said.

William felt like a fifth wheel bouncing along the back. He listened and nodded with each NCO.

“Mr. Grace, stick with Avi, his job is to keep you out of trouble,” Sebastien said with a tilt of his head in Avi’s direction.

“We’re going to need every man, I can work,” William said as he was cut off.

“In case you didn’t notice you’re the only one here who knows how to command a spaceship,” Sebastien said in a simple tone. “You’re lucky I’m not making you sit it out, but we do need all our forces.”

William knew he was right and nodded. He just hated the thought of being stuck in back while other men were shooting and being shot before him. He patted the pistol in his jacket just to make sure it was there.

“Civilians armed?” Sebastien asked.

“They’ve got a mix of rifles, except the Hun room buster, I’m taking that.” Crow said.

“Crow and Aleksandr are the assault bunnies. That pattern armor is some pretty nice stuff,” Sebastien said as he patted Crow’s shoulder.

“I wish we had a drone bunny,” Eduardo mumbled.

The Soldiers and Marines nodded around the room.

“Drone bunny?” Tero asked with a nervous smirk.

Von Hess spoke up. “We prefer to have the Striders group around a point man and seek out trouble in, um, tight spots I think is the word.”

“They take the risks in close quarters combat,” Eduardo said.

“So why the term bunny?” Xan asked.

“Dog racing,” Eduardo stated simply.

“Oh,” Xan replied a bit confused.

Sebastien looked annoyed at the questions. “Move fast and hit hard, we’ve got one shot at this. They know we’re here, so make it count. Stick behind the guys in armor.” He looked to the Naval crew. “Stick in cover otherwise.” He looked around the room and asked, “Questions?”

William felt his heart rise just a bit. This was it. In a matter of an hour they’d move on the objectives and purchase that most priceless of things, freedom. He only hoped that the butchers bill wouldn’t be too high.

The morning clouds came in fast and low, dancing through the dim orange light. North wind brought the first tides of the coming winter and a chill that crept into every man. The upper reaches of the refinery were hidden in the folds of the clouds while the blackness of the elevator disappeared into the heavens.

William waited outside of the abandoned stamp mill. A slight hiss rain whipped around him. A gruff looking civilian led Dzavi out from the darkness and into an alley. The mercenary locked eyes with William as he was led into shadow.

In William’s jacket was stuffed what few spare nanite ammo slabs they had left, a pair of the wonderful wire grenades and rough cloth. Vito had turned his nose up at the cloth, but thought it better to have something to bind a wound than nothing at all. The pistol rested heavily against his breast with the polymer blade close by. The knife, of everything he carried, was the most personal.

Avi walked up and stood before William with a puffed chest and a face blackened by soot. “Mr. Grace, I’ll be your escort today,” he mocked as he strutted like a bantam chicken.

“Are we ready Avi?”

“Yes Sir,” Avi nodded with a smile.

The pair stood in the mist and waited for the rest of the crew to walk up. Two columns stood and departed in silence. Vito shrugged lightly and waved to William. “We’ll keep the coffee warm!”

The elevator was a squat complex of stone, iron, and alloy. The ribbon of coal black nanofibers burst into the clouds. Every window and door was sealed close with firing ports scattered about.

The assault team waited behind a set of shipping containers and waited. There was decent cover all the way up the complex itself. What they’d do when they got there was a different story. A roar cascaded through the clouds as the assault on the refinery began.

“Move it up. Keep it tight. Hess, Tik, keep it covered.” Selim said as he peered around the corner.

Tik watched, angrily, as the rest of the assault team bounded from one container to the next before arriving at the edge of the yard. Then the defenders opened up. She strained to be with them.

“Can you see anything to shoot?” Von Hess asked.

Tik bit her lip and scanned over the top of the assault rifle. There was damn little to see that offered a shot. Whoever was inside had no intention of trying to get out. Nor much intention of preventing an assault. They just had to stay buttoned up.

The assault stalled even before it really got moving. With nowhere to go the assault team shifted from one point to the next. All entrances were sealed. Both sides had accomplished their goal, one side had protected the elevator while the other had kept that team engaged.

Tik stood behind the container and cracked her back. “Fuck this.”

They trekked through the awakening hovels to the sounds of angry men. The men who once governed now spoke of freedom, toil, slavery, and the future. The men from the stars moved in silence to the edge of the slag field and waited.

The rabble that caroused down the street was adorned in every manner of jacket, coverall, helmet, and suit. The weapons they hoisted ranged from iron pipes to industrial tools designed to remove slag. One large woman had an iron plate strapped to her chest and a pair of cruel hooks in her hands. David was in the middle of the pack, he gave a tired wave and followed the mob.

Peter ran up with a dirty bag hanging from each hand. “Here! You might need these.”

William took one of the stained bags and Xinhu the other.

Xinhu grasped the bag and peeked inside. “Explosives?”

Peter, with a slight whiff of stinging alcohol, gave out a bellow and joined the mob.

Sebastien pointed to the rise and the crew fanned out. They watched the mob in silence until they passed from view.

William looked down the slope and saw the spot where he had stabbed the man to death just a few meters down the road. He couldn’t see into the gap where he knew the body would lie. Part of him wanted to rise and look, while another was satisfied knowing that the man wasn’t in the refinery.

A tinny voice echoed into the sky from beyond the rise. Sebastien raised a hand to keep the men silent. The loudspeakers were pointing to the gate and away from them.

William strained to make out any words. Nothing came through except the fact that someone was saying something, but he had no idea what. He sighed and shifted his weight in the slag. He tapped his chest and felt the reassuring weight of the pistol.

“They’re telling them to stand down, they want to negotiate, uh, hmm, claim we are here to enslave the population.” Sebastien strained himself up as the wind blew. “Something about corruption, the truth, it’s all bullshit now.”

“Would they surrender?” Xan asked.

“Not bloody likely,” Crow replied as he slid himself higher onto the rise. “Oop, they’re making towards the complex, everyone get ready.”

Gunfire rang out. It echoed off the low clouds and the sound bounced off the superstructure.

William scrambled up to the top of the rise. His clothes were thoroughly soaked as the light mist gave way to a steady drizzle. He’d have shivered except for the adrenaline pumping through him.

The booming of grenades was muffled. William realized that they had been set off inside of the building.

“Let’s go!” Sebastien yelled as he rose and disappeared over the rise.

William rose up and crawled over the peak and slid down the backside. A service access through the fence was busted open and he followed everyone through and into the grounds of the refinery. Before them lay an open stretch with a blank wall rising into the mist broken only by an occasional door. He kept himself hunched and scurried forward.

A new noise broke the morning that had never sounded before. The drone alarms howled a terrible noise. Far above in the mist the pods of razor drones cracked open and loosed the horrible cargo.

“Set those charges,” Sebastien yelled as he pointed to a rust fringed service door.

Xan slid on his knees to the base of the door and pulled out a gray cube with a simple strip on the side. The strip had one tab with minutes on it, with another tab to set it. He pulled off the one minute tab and ripped off the set tab. It beeped every second. He slapped it against the door frame.

The crew slid back away from the door and peered up into the mist expecting the drones to arrive at any moment. The sporadic gunfire from the front of the refinery still called out but was answered with heavy automatic fire from within. Screams drifted through the mist.

William turned his head away and counted with the beeps. The final beeps came quicker, faster, until it gave a steady tone. His ears rang like a chipped bell and he realized that the charge had gone off. He pulled out the pistol and followed behind Avi.

The interior of the building rose in a pillar of industrial equipment. Pipes, stairwells, drums, and silos occupied the entire building. Above was a large squat control booth ringed with tinted windows. Towards the front lie barricades with the Samoans firing out into the daylight beyond.

William sprinted with Avi and took cover in a section of pipe flanges and manifolds. His heart was beating loudly in his ears. He couldn’t hear anything else but a ringing sound.

Withering fire raged towards the Samoan defenders as they turned in surprise. Sebastien fired in rapid bursts as the main line of defenders tried to shift. They had set up expecting the gate to be assaulted, a wide area of empty ground separated them from the next safe cover.

The civilian assault was hammered by the razor drones outside and the heavy weapons fire inside. They fled inwards away from the drones and into the confusion. Men scooped up rifles from the dead and fired at razor drones behind and the defenders in front. The Samoans were pinched, but the Civilians were being flayed into the fray.

The crew slid into positions and moved into better cover. The area around them was a forest of steel and fixtures painted a dim green. Returning fire pinged off of the surrounding fixtures but the surprise had taken it’s toll. The Samoans were breaking and abandoning the position, and the wounded, while they sprinted for cover.

“Pick em off!” Crow yelled as he held the stubby assault rifle up and sent bursts into the fleeing mercenaries. The rifle was loud and blasted out an angry orange flame out of the muzzle.

William raised the pistol and remembered the futility of driving rounds at such a distance. He instead focused on scouting beyond and watching for new threats. The command area loomed out of the wall and he watched it carefully. The only way to shut off the drones was inside that cube.

The civilians screamed as the razor drones continued the assault.

The smoked glass in the center of the control area spidered and shattered. Behind it emerged a stubby rotary cannon that swung towards them.

“Autocannon behind us!” William yelled as he rose and ran deeper into the machinery.

The autocannon shattered out a ripping sound as it showered a rain of steel cored rounds and explosive shells. They shifted the fire away from the heavy cover of the machine and towards the wall of Civilians fleeing the drones.

“Anyone see a way up?” Sebastien asked as he poked his head quickly around a pipe.

Aleksandr rose up in his heavy armor and dropped back down quickly. “Da, I see stairwell.”

“Hit it,” Sebastien said as he rose and took position behind Aleksandr.

The heavy armor was blocky but oh so precious in an assault. Aleksandr started slow but gained momentum as he approached the stairs. The rest of the crew bounded after. The autocannon took a moment to adjust before it began to fire at them.

William ducked his head and gritted his teeth as the rounds exploded around him. He caught himself just as he was about to fall and instead rolled up against the cold wall out of the view of the autocannon. His eyes focused on a body laying in the center of the corridor in a pool of red. Xinhu was crumbled like a broken wreck on the grey concrete.

“Xinhu’s down!” William shouted.

Crow snapped his head back to look and returned his attention to the stairwell. “He’s dead, keep moving!”

William looked behind him once more at the unmoving form. How many more would he leave behind him? He wanted to dash out, pull him to safety and check, just check, and see if he was alive. The form of the man was so still in the violence surrounding it. He felt a hand tugging on his shirt and he turned to reluctantly follow Avi.

The assault team hunched near the stairwell that led up to command center. The hulking mass above them provided cover from the relentless autocannon. Behind them the Civilians continued to stream in, eyes wide with panic. The razor drones were slicing there way through those outside while the autocannon hit those inside.

Peter sprinted up and slid next to Sebastien. His cheek was a ragged crimson mess and one arm useless. The razor drones had struck. “You need to get moving! We’re getting torn up above and below. What the fuck?” His eyes were wide with adrenaline and anger.

Sebastien peered up the stairwell and shook his head. “Not through there we’re not.”

“We’re dying for you!” Peter pleaded.

“And if we go up that stairwell we’ll die for nothing,” Sebastien replied.

Crow pointed along the edge of the wall. A set of piping and a covered ladder rose skyward. “Can we pop the comms, kill the drones that way?”

Xan nodded slowly as he clutched a wounded arm. “There’ll be a comms array up top, knock it out and they should power down.”

“Should?” Crow asked. He turned the stubby weapon slightly and checked the drum.

“Those boys upstairs are smart. They’re not going to move an inch, they’ll let the drones and the virus do the work,” Sebastien said with a snort. “William, Avi, get upstairs and knock that thing out. We’ll take our chances that it might knock those drones out. If anything it opens up some options.”

“Let’s go boss!” Avi called out as he stood and raced towards the piping that rose upwards.

William nodded to Sebastien and followed after. He turned to look and saw Crow and Aleksandr in the heavy pattern armor move closer to the stairwell.

The two men took flanking positions and ducked forward, then back, egging on those above. They advanced a step, then another, then in unison tossed grenades up the stairwell. They sprinted back to the edge and were greeted with a half dozen grenades coming down the stairwell. The explosions rattled off in successive concussions. Crow sprinted in and tossed a pair more before running back.

“C’mon!” Avi called down to William. He was already climbing the white ladder that was tucked inside of the process piping.

William turned his gaze from the breach and assault and began climbing his way upwards. He had never, surprisingly, had much love of heights. Floating free above a planet never evoked anything, but a wobbly ladder would make him lightheaded. This, he thought, was going to take his mind off all of the people with guns.

Sebastien sprinted up and slid next to Aleksandr. The stairwell before him was filled with smoke and scarred with shrapnel. So far he hadn’t seen anything besides the bounce of a grenade.

“I’ve got a pair left,” Aleksandr said.

Crow slid up along the opposite edge and peered up the edge of the stairwell. He raised his weapon and let a burst fly into the upper reaches. He was rewarded with a cry and a grenade bouncing down the stairs.

The detonation was too far up the stairs and didn’t do much except make more smoke.

“Ideas?” Crow said as he watched up the stairwell with his weapon on his shoulder.

“Not until they run out of grenades,” Sebastien said simply. As long as the defenders could rain down explosives there wasn’t much he could do. From above the sound of the autocannon blasted through the refinery.

“Charge them?” Aleksandr asked.

Sebastien shook his head. He hoped William was having more luck. Once the drones were out of the sky the Civilians would become a force multiplier. He turned his head and caught a glance of the carnage behind him. “Negative, we wait for the drones to drop.”

Avi and William climbed slowly, methodically, arduously up the never ending ladder. After what felt like an eternity of rough rungs they reached a small platform with another ladder. They took a brief breather and peered down below them. The command bunker was spewing out fire onto the civilians below who still continued to stream inside. Women and children were huddled behind giant containers of stamped ore.

“Good god,” Avi said. “The drones are driving everyone inside.”

“Let’s go,” William said as he took the lead. It was one thing for the drones to repel the attackers, another for them to terrorize the population.

They reached a second platform that was darker. The piping below them spidered out into a lattice only an engineer could appreciate. The sounds of gunfire was eerily muffled. They turned and continued to climb.

Williams hands throbbed. The arches of his feet felt like they were seared with a rolled iron bar. He scanned to his side as the piping slid away and into various silos and process equipment. An elevator tube was in the middle of the wall 100 meters away. It dropped down into the top of the command center.

The open car was rising upward with a pair of men looking out to the carnage below.

“Avi!” William hissed. “Stop, stay still.”

Avi, experienced in enough combat situations, locked himself still into the shadows of the ladder and hugged it tight.

William closed his eyes to the tiniest slit and watched as the men in the elevator reached the roof. Something seemed vaguely familiar about one of the men. The pair continued to climb up to the hooded roof access.

They reached the raised cupola with a steel lattice floor. A narrow door led outward. Avi checked his weapon and William drew his pistol. Avi leaned forward and slapped William on the shoulder.

“You ready Mr. Grace?”

William nodded with a slight smile. “Yes, I’m ready.”

“You pop the hatch, I go first and we both get to the nearest cover. If we’re close to the comms you get that first and I’ll keep you covered, if not we’ll nail the two guys.”

“Avi, let’s do it!” William said with a wide grin. He reached out a hand and popped the latch.

The air from the inside of the building rushed outwards in a whooshing gust blasting the door open. White light streamed inside that was dulled only by the cloud cover above. Avi jumped out of the hatch and burst into a dead run.

William followed immediately behind pumping his legs like he’d never run before. He could almost feel the eyes on his back, tickling, teasing, as he expected to get shot. A square box was bolted to the roof with a slender stack rising upwards. Ten more meters. Almost. His knee burned like it was on fire.

“Hey hey!” A voice called out to his right and the gunfire began.

William ignored the call and slid himself behind the metallic cowling and clutched the pistol to his chest. He trembled slightly with the adrenaline dancing. He peeked around the edge and saw a man in blue coveralls sprint past, 10 meters away.

“Avi, he’s coming at you!” William called. He turned his head in time to see the other man roll onto his side and level his weapon. William tucked himself back behind the cowling just as the thuds of weapon fire echoed against the metal. He hoped that whatever it was wouldn’t punch through the supports.

Gunfire rattled through the forest of pipes and vents. William could hear Avi firing, and someone firing back at Avi. He rolled to the opposite side of the cowling and turned his head just for a moment.

The man rushed from around the cowling with a stubby rifle at his side. His face showed surprise on top of determination. If he sprinted a step more and he’d be in position to hide from William and mow down Avi. But only if William missed.

William turned, raised the pistol with an extended arm, and fired. The pistol recoiled lightly. His nose tickled with the tang of burnt nanites as the wind blew in his face. He wasn’t sure if he hit the man, the target had moved so quickly.

He crept forward. A rising set of pipes before him masked where the man had fallen. He kept the pistol pointed where he walked and slid forward. He became aware that the gunfire had halted, he hoped that Avi had come out on top.

Around the mass of pipes his target lay sprawled out as he had fallen. The edge of the building was only a meter past. The dizzying height was lost in the mist, though William didn’t venture near enough to tell. The stubby rifle he had hoped to acquire was nowhere to be seen.

William dropped down into a crouch and peered around. The edges of the roof were lost in a mist. Droplets of water scurried down every vertical surface. The only sound that came was the dim wind and a dull echo of gunfire below. He crouched and started moving.

The dim silhouette of a communications array loomed into the sky. Around it grew spires of black topped with smaller cups and domes. Water ran freely down the large dish and pooled below it. A mass of painted white wires was tucked into a giant round coupling.

Avi was nowhere to be seen. William was hesitant to call out. He crept closer and watched with heightened senses as his eyes scanned the vertical white vents. His objective was before him. He decided that cutting just one of the wires wasn’t enough, he was going to slice every single one of them.

William tugged on a cable and found that it was fixed tightly. He stuffed the pistol back into his jacket, dropped the satchel, and drew out the polymer blade. He hoped that whatever the blade was made out of didn’t conduct electricity. The first cable cut with a slight hiss. He was about to cut the second when a voice halted him.

“Oh Captain! My Captain!” called out a voice with a southern drawl and an angry tilt.

William felt his stomach drop. That voice… He turned his head and saw Corporal Berry charging.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Rumble

Berry drove his body forward and plunged his shoulder into William’s chest. The blow crashed William directly into the conduit and spun him onto the roof deck. The polymer blade skittered a few meters away.

“You’re fucked now!” Berry yelled. His lower lip was caked in wet blood while his right arm was a sticky mess of bloodstained coverall. Wherever Avi was, he had shot well enough to seriously wound the deserter.

William smiled and slid his hand into his grimy coat. He realized his pistol had dropped out when Berry tackled him. He took his eyes off Berry and scanned for it. It was nowhere to be seen.

Berry lunged forward and knocked William backwards. The Midshipman fell in a heap with the well fed Southerner perched on top. A fist plowed downwards and smacked William’s forehead with a crunch. Stars danced in his eyes but William landed a roundhouse punch that was forceful enough to stun Berry just for a second, but it was all that William needed to wriggle away.

“I had rather hoped you’d drowned,” William said as he gave himself some distance. The knife was at a point equidistant to both of the men. Could he handle Berry with a wounded arm? He knew he had an advantage, but Berry had the edge on combat training. William recalled the words from the Academy close combat teacher: only do what your enemy expects you not to. William dropped his shoulder and decided to see what Berry was like without bringing the knife into the mix.

“Oh hoh!” Berry hollered as he caught the full weight of Williams drive right on the sternum.

Berry oofed out a sickening sound. His diaphragm was crushed inwards knocking him backwards. William took the initiative and stood himself up and delivered a hearty kick into his stomach. Berry curled up into a tight ball.

Berry spat out a mouthful of blood and grinned up at William with blood stained teeth. His breath came in wheezes as he tensed in anticipation of another kick.

William turned and ran to where the polymer blade was dropped. He would have rather shot Berry, but if a slice is what it took he’d do that too. He stooped down and picked up the cold, wet blade and turned to find Berry staggering away into the piping.

“C’mon you bastard, you useless son-of-a-bitch! If you’d a been dead then I’d be a running the command. You screwed us all,” Berry said.

William ran as fast as his aching ribs would allow. The pain from the tackle bloomed in his chest as he realized that his ribs were quite possibly broken. He gritted his teeth down hard and chased after.

The gantry crane rose upwards with a loading bar directly across the top of the elevator. The cargo lift hung limply with a large iron hook near the edge of the ribbon. Tik looked up along the steel body and slung her weapon against her back.

She gripped her hands onto the electrical conduit and pulled herself upwards. While her legs didn’t work well she had enough upper body strength to climb to the top.

The girder was wet and rusted. She carefully placed one foot in front of the other. Below her was the flat form of the top of the complex. Her goal was the center area where the ribbon passed through the ceiling. She crawled up next to the crane motor and peered down. Grue was hunched out of the rain and looking towards the door.

Tik patted her jacket and palmed one of the filament grenades. She lobbed it against the elevator. The grenade made a gentle bounce and landed with a metallic thud a meter away from Grue. He turned his head and was slammed aside by the shock.

She grinned to herself. Some things made for a pleasant payback. She leaned over and took her second grenade and slugged it as hard as she could towards the front barricade. The grenade skittered and slid before coming to rest among a group of approaching defenders. The explosion was satisfying.

She sliced through the electrical supply cord and dropped it into the expanse below. One hand over the other she descended into the building. Before her lay a mass of mangled men and a cracked open door.

“C’mon in!” she yelled as she advanced on the wounded defenders.

William ran after the deserter. The diameter of the pipes dropped from the thickness of a man to slender pipes like saplings. Gusts of white gas purged out from the tips a few meters above.

“Gah!” Berry howled as he grasped one of the pipes and began to push and pull. The stresses pinged the metal until it gave way after a second cycle. He almost fell backward before catching himself and pointing the ragged tip like a spear.

William slowed himself and eyed up the tip of the spear. It was pinched together. The white paint gave way to a gray serrated point. He continued in an arc and went further into the pipes at an angle to Berry. He dodged the first thrust with ease as he kept his distance.

Berry growled and stepped back before plunging the pipe forward. He lunged again before feinting and swinging the spear sideways catching William on the shin.

The pain shot up William’s leg. It was almost as if a steel ingot had smashed into him. He dropped onto the ground in an awkward roll and prepared himself to feel the searing pain of a stab at any second. Behind him was a lattice of piping that left him cornered.

Berry leapt closer and held the pipe over his shoulders with the tip a meter away from William. His eyes were wild with a grin that spoke only of death. “All they had to do was offer me a hot meal.” He spat blood onto the wet roofing. “That’s all it took, we were damn neared starved, our tongues were like rocks.”

The polymer knife was the only weapon William had. He scooted back against the piping and watched for an opening that would let him parry or slice into Berry. “It’s a shame you were sold so cheaply,” William said.

Berry raised his lip in a snarl and raised the spear to strike. A sudden blast of air almost knocked him down. He took a step backwards and laughed loudly. “Care to dance with a VTOL?”

William rolled onto his side and turned to see the insect like form of the VTOL that had attacked the capsules on those first days. The autocannon glistened with the mist. A cluster of cameras and sensors winked at the pair.

Berry took a step forward into the raging wind. “And I’ll even have it on camera to watch again.” He raised his arm once again like a striking legionnaire.

The VTOL opened fire. The autocannon spoke out with a horrendous roar that was guttural and animal like at such close quarters. The VTOL rolled slightly under the recoil. The stubby cannon was pointed just over the heads of the two men sparring in front of it.

In that moment of beautiful confusion, William rolled forward and lunged out with the blade. He plunged it as deeply as he could into Berry. This time the blade went home quickly. It passed between ribs and was buried to the hilt.

Berry saw it coming just a fraction of a second too late. Had he not been injured, he might have parried it and managed to spear William. He looked down with surprised eyes and gasped once before dropping to his knees and tumbling to the ground. He looked up to William and looked almost sad. He coughed and was still. The pipe tumbled from his grasp with a clang muted by the rotors of the VTOL.

William turned slowly to face the VTOL. The vicious craft hovered for a moment before wiggling its wings and sliding back into the mist. He stood for a second and listened, wondering what the hell just happened. He shook his head and stumbled back to the coupling. The sounds of the heavy autocannon still echoed from inside of the building.

The remaining wires sliced with barely a spark. William scooped up the satchel and pistol when Avi collapsed next to him. The always cheerful Private sported a bullet wound to the chest and an angry yellow bruise growing on his head.

“Oh Shit, Avi,” William said as he helped Avi back to his feet.

“Berry eh?” Avi said in a tired voice.

William nodded. “C’mon, I’ve got an idea.”

The two walking wounded shuffled across the slick decking until they arrived at the now empty elevator. William helped Avi to sit before running back to the conduit. His hands closed on the thoroughly soaked bag of explosives. He hoped rain wouldn’t bother it.

Avi nodded with a wide smile as he watched William run back with the satchel. “The only problem is, I’m going to have to climb down that damned ladder again.”

William smiled as he focused on prepping the explosive charge. He estimated roughly a minute for the elevator to reach the command center. He pulled the time tab, slid the charge into the elevator and pressed the down button. Just as it started moving he ripped off the set tab. “I think we should move.”

Avi nodded and struggled to his feet.

William worried that the method to neutralize the nanite virus was inside. If they couldn’t take the command center it wouldn’t matter anyways. But still, the thought of leaving the entire planet in the midst of a horrible sickness stuck with him.

The pair rushed through the mist back the stairwell access. The air rushing through the entryway paused for just a moment as a dull roar shuddered the entire complex. Avi whistled. “Well, is that how they do it in the Navy?”

“Absolutely, I’m coming for your job Marine,” William jested.

Avi let out a pained laugh. The pair began the slow descent down the access ladder. The sound of gunfire was now limited to single shots. They still had no idea if the drones had ceased their assault. The view below was masked in an acrid smoke that smelled like plastic and tasted like bitter popcorn.

At the first platform they rested. William’s ribs felt like an iron jacket was being heated in a forge. He coughed a dry cough and expected to see blood come out, but none did. They applied a rudimentary dressing to the bullet wound, which luckily, had not penetrated the lungs. Avi paled but declined any assistance.

“A matter of pride Mr. Grace,” Avi said anytime William asked.

At the second and last platform they were just below the smoky haze that hovered above the refinery floor. It danced in the turbulent air as it was slowly sucked out of the building. Below was a symphony of chaos.

Streaming in from the door was a trail of bodies, some still moving, others wracked apart from the fire of the autocannon. Men and women shuffled among the dead and wounded. Scattered about was the inert spheres of the razor drones like drifting sand. The command center was crumpled. The middle collapsed down into itself with the outer edges shattered and torn.

Packs of the civilians were ripping into the debris field pulling out the bodies of the dead mercenaries and an occasional live one. A single blocky orange dump truck shuttled the wounded away from the wreck command center. A group of wounded Mercs sat in a circle surrounded by men with fierce eyes. William wondered if they’d last the day.

Sebastien stood at the base of the piping and waited for Avi and William to limp down. His face was triumphant but he wore no smile. “A bit of trouble up top?”

William dropped down with shaky legs and helped Avi to the floor. Avi rested his back against a dull white pipe and closed his eyes.

“A bit, but we delivered some trouble of our own,” William replied. “Is that it?”

Sebastien beckoned towards the collapsed stairwell. “It’ll take some time to dig it out, it’s a damned mess. I’m sure there are more survivors inside, but the fights gone out of em.”

“Why aren’t we moving on the elevator?” William asked as he sat down on a large coupling. “The VTOL came in, fired above us on the roof.”

“They already took the elevator,” Sebastien stated. He cocked his head towards the entry door. “Everyone else is outside, the VTOL is doing a sweep.”

“What?” William asked, stunned. “How can that be?”

Sebastien finally smiled. “Selim found a skeleton crew at the elevator and made an assault. Seems they turtled up here, I think they planned on letting the virus knock out the civilians and then they could mop us up. Von Hess was able to sync with the VTOL.”

William blinked and shook his head. Had they really finally done it? So long, so far, men lost, all to finally hold the elevator. He could hardly believe it. He stood stiffly, helped Avi to his feet and followed behind Sebastien. “Where is everyone else?”

“Helping the wounded, scrounging for supplies, or already at the elevator.”

“Xan is trying to get a commlink going. Some interesting news out of the elevator too,” Sebastien said as they emerged out from the refinery and into the open air.

William stopped and stared outside. The price had been high for the civilians. Bodies were scattered as men had fallen in the initial assault. All throughout the yard lay bodies, some with bullet wounds while others were savaged by the razor drones. He felt sick. The price would be high, but he had no idea what the bill would look like.

“Medical supplies?” William asked as he felt his stomach tighten.

Sebastien shook his head. “Inside the complex.”

The three stood in silence as the mist washed over them and diluted the blood that seeped into the now hallowed grounds.

“What’s the news?” William asked as he shuffled with Avi away, towards the gate.

“There’s a ship docked above.”

William shrugged. “I’d expect a launch to be there, they’d have to leave something.”

“Not a launch, a ship, with a crew, a corvette I’m told.”

The men stopped in the cover of the entry building.

“Well not for long, they’ll be out of here once they realize what happened,” William said as he helped Avi down.

Sebastien tapped his ear instinctively and nudged William. “Can you hear it?”

William shook his head and watched as a smile spread across Sebastiens face. “Comms?”

Sebastien crunched his jaw and slid it from side to side. “Toothpick, this is Lumpy, I read you. Check Naval comms channel for the Gentleman.”

William had forgotten about any communications system. He, along with all personnel, had a set of nanites implanted in the jaw and ear that would allow for nearby communication.

William felt a dull pop in his jaw and a mellow tone before a click brought a voice into his head.

“Gentleman, this is Toothpick, can you hear this?” the comm system echoed into his ear.

He clicked his jaw to the side and felt that subtle tone shift in his ear to indicate that he was transmitting. “I hear you toothpick, good work, any losses?”

“Negative, we’ll see you soon, a truck is on the way,” Xan said.

“Are these secure?” William asked Sebastien.

Sebastien nodded. “The encryption is unique.”

The men waited in the steadily falling rain. A newer truck pulled up with Tero driving and Peter in the passenger seat. Both men looked excited. Peter wore a slash on his right cheek that looked like he slept on a filet knife. He held a slender canister that he offered to William. He was missing two fingers on his right hand.

“Well done!” Peter shouted. The smell of alcohol seeped from him. His eyes wore the pain of loss and grief, but the triumph of the day shone through.

William took the canister and pulled a surprisingly smooth smoky drink. He stifled a cough and handed it back. “Well done to you and yours,” William said.

The three climbed into the back of the truck and bounced slowly through the streets. People were streaming out of the hovels and beginning to mourn and celebrate. Most at the same time. The slender canisters of alcohol seemed to be everywhere.

“What about the virus?” William asked.

“Vito shut it down, there’s a nanite system at the elevator.”

William sighed. He slumped against the side of the truck. A weight that had been burning into the back of his mind finally cooled. He wondered how that guilt would ride when he set the elevator moving downwards with a bomb attached. He’d done enough to these people, he didn’t want to inflict more.

They arrived at the elevator complex and pulled into a mostly empty yard. Shipping containers were stacked in neat rows. At the end of the line was a large gantry crane that hovered over them. The elevator itself emerged from the peak of a squat building. The darkness and rigidity seemed to pulse in the cloudy sky. It disappeared into the whiteness above. A pair of bulky climbers clung to the edges of the ribbon.

William dropped to the ground and almost collapsed in pain. The tenseness in his ribs was stunning. He helped Avi down and the three men walked inside of the complex. Dark blast marks scorched the walls.

Tik was the first soldier they met. She was sitting on a plain gray chair with an assault shotgun cradled on her lap like a small dog. Before her were half a dozen bound men. The plastic cord was wound from hand to foot and then to the next man.

“Mr. Grace!” she called out with a salute. The shotgun never wavered from covering the sullen faced Samoans.

William returned the salute with a stiff arm and continued into a hollow area where the ribbon disappeared into the floor. The room hummed with the tension of the ribbon.

Selim greeted them with a salute and a smile.

“Exceptional work Sergeant, mind regaling us with the tale?” William asked as he returned the salute.

Selim shrugged and pointed to a cluster of chairs near the edge of the wall. “You look like you need a seat.”

William nodded and shuffled over with Avi on his arm. Sebastien strode to the ribbon and looked upward.

Selim talked softly to himself for a moment before turning his attention to William. “Leduc will be here shortly with a patch for you Avi.”

“I guess I’ll take the help from the Army just this once,” Avi said with a slow wink.

“We came in, got close, it was buttoned up tight. There was only a handful of guards and they were all tucked inside. Tik dropped a present inside and then we swarmed in,” Selim shrugged. “We hardly even got shot at. Once we were in, the remaining troops surrendered.”

“Hmm, that seems a bit odd,” William said as he watched Sebastien pace to the back side of the ribbon.

Selim shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me any. After that Von Hess found the VTOL console and the rest is history right? Xan is still working on getting the comms going. Seems you cut every connection we needed.”

“Oops,” William said. Not that he had much choice, it wasn’t like the wires were marked.

Sebastien strolled back to the conversation. “Crow is coming, it’s time to get up the elevator.”

William nodded and looked up the ribbon. “Did they break orbit yet?”

“I’m not sure, we’ll need to check with Xan and Von Hess, they’re in the control room,” Sebastien said as he pointed down the hallway.

“You OK Avi?” William asked.

“Yes Sir, I’m just going to nap a bit,” Avi said as he slumped down. He closed eyes like he hadn’t slept in years and nodded off.

Selim pointed to a body near the center of the room.

William walked slowly over. Grue lay at his feet with shrapnel peppering his body. “Well, that’s Berry and Grue. James must be around somewhere too.”

They walked through the silent corridor with polished concrete walls. The building felt old. The design was in the fashion of 80 years before. It was vaguely nostalgic, but unusual at the same time.

They passed through a doorway with no door. Inside was a set of relatively simple control equipment. Xan and Von Hess sat nearby more sophisticated equipment.

Xan nodded and continued to work at the console before him. A gaggle of wires and tubes emerged and were strung up the wall and into the ceiling. It looked like a recent addition.

Von Hess sat in a cloth lined chair like a hammock. His fingers were locked together on his chest and his eyes were barely closed. He tilted his head from time to time and was mostly silent.

“Xan, how’s it look?” Sebastien asked.

“Eh. The elevator is in working order, and it still shows someone docked. But I’ve got no feeds or details.”

“Did they cut them?” William asked.

Xan shook his head. “Negative. When they designed these they made them dirt ass simple, so simple a farmer could run it. Plus they wouldn’t function from the ground until someone came from up top. No camera necessary,” Xan said. “Unfortunately.”

“So how do we take it?” William said as he pointed at the yellow berthing light.

“Insert with two teams, one in each climber. Hopefully they don’t have many troops upstairs. Stream in from two sides and pinch them. After that you grind your way in,” Sebastien said.

“Hmm, what if they have a full compliment?” William asked.

“They don’t. If they did it’d already be on the ground.”

The NCO’s discussed the finer points of close-quarters assault. None seem satisfied with any of the methods discussed. Selim kept wishing for things he didn’t have and Crow kept dismissing the ideas that Sebastien did bring forth. All three grew tense as they argued over the objective that was so close at hand.

“Can we talk to them?” William asked.

Xan looked up and blinked to find his focus. “Maybe, but not yet.”

William turned to Von Hess and watched as his movements became more erratic. His teeth clenched and his fingers squeezed up tight. Sweat began to bead on his forehead. The NCO’s stopped the argument and watched, puzzled.

“Is he OK?” Crow asked as he stepped closer.

“Hess?” Eduardo called from the other room. The short man stalked in with his arms bared. The tattoo was a vibrant wreath of carnations that encircled and bloomed. “Well, he found something,” Eduardo stated as he stood with his arms on his hips.

Hess’s eyes blinked open. He sighed a deep whoosh and relaxed his body into the cloth below.

“What is it?” Sebastien snapped.

“Shhh, give him a moment, if the link was severed it’ll take a few minutes for him to recover,” Eduardo said. He held a hand out as if to keep everyone away. The tattoo slowly shifted into a haze of gray.

Everyone in the room watched as Von Hess controlled his breathing and stretched his limbs. The first motion he made was to pry the plastic contacts off of the carbon pads. The adhesive seemed to resist as if it penetrated into his skull. He gently scooted himself into a sitting position.

“Gentleman,” Von Hess said in a soft voice. “I swept the edges of the city and saw nothing of interest. I spooled it further south and saw great scars in the earth, trenches that followed the ridges.”

“That’s how they usually mine this sort of thing,” Selim added.

“Yah, so I followed them and ran into an armored column moving this way,” Von Hess said with a sigh. “I strafed the column but then they opened fire. They had four low-profile tanks and a group of APC’s.”

“Did you manage to knock any out?” Crow asked with his eyebrows furrowed.

“No,” Von Hess replied sadly. “I think they are Hun.”

“That can’t be, they’re eight months away, this is closer to Sa’Ami space,” William said.

Eduardo stooped over Von Hess and cleaned away the adhesive from the carbon pads. The pilot slid back into the chair and winced as the terminals were bared.

“How long?” Sebastien asked.

“Two hours. Maybe less,” Von Hess replied.

“Xan! You have that link up yet?” William turned and asked.

“To the ship?”

“No, we need you to connect to the orbital batteries,” William said.

“We need to assault that ship and get the hell out of here, there’s no way we can take out an armored platoon,” Sebastien said. He stood next to William and jabbed his finger out.

William stood his ground in the face of the much larger Marine. “Negative. Those tanks get into the city and they’ll destroy the place and park where we can’t hit them.”

Sebastien glared back. “This is a bad idea.”

“My day has been full of bad ideas, they’ve just been better than the alternatives.” William said.

Sebastien strode out and beckoned to the other NCO’s. “C’mon, we better figure out how to stop a tank without anti-tank weapons.”

William watched them leave and felt a lost sense of accomplishment. It was all for naught unless they could get into contact with those batteries. “Xan, it’s really important that we get in touch with the orbital launchers,” he pleaded.

Xan nodded and kept his eyes locked on the screen. His fingers danced on the keys as he spoke. “I know. I’m working on it,” he replied in a tone of distraction.

William turned away and kneeled next to Von Hess. He thought that the man looked ten years older. “Von Hess, thank you.”

Von Hess smiled weakly. “You were lucky my friend, I was going to just blast the comm tower away, good thing I looked.”

“Good thing you looked,” William replied and walked out to find the rest of the troops.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Bottled up

The scratch defense rolled through the edge of town into hovel country. The sounds of celebration still echoed through the air. None in the truck had the spirit to say otherwise.

William and his crew bounced along with a pack of civilians. One man clutched a blocky shotgun nervously. Another hugged a slender rifle and peered at it mysteriously. A particularly drunk individual wore a set of pattern armor with crushed panels. The Marines and Soldiers regarded the civilians with mild curiosity. Following behind was two more trucks of Civilians in various states of sobriety.

“You’re kidding,” Leduc murmured whenever he looked to the Civilians across from him.

Crow tapped William on the knee and pointed. “We need to hit them in the stamp mills, bottle em up.”

William nodded and racked his brain for ideas. They had industrial explosives but they weren’t exactly ideal for using as anti-armor charges. “What happens once they’re in?”

Crow turned his head and looked to the stamp mills. “Drop down onto the tanks, pitch the charges.”

“And the infantry support?” Sebastien asked.

“Troops on the ground will cover,” Crow replied.

Sebastien shook his head with closed eyes.

The men in back all watched Sebastien’s body language. The augment stared at the floor of the truck and wore a look of pure dissatisfaction.

A dull click sounded in Williams ear. “Go ahead.”

“I got something here, but I can’t get all of the batteries going. This piece of shit can only link to one,” Xan’s voice crackled in Williams ear.

William tapped Crow on the knee. “We’ve got a battery online.”

Heads turned and the tone shifted.

“It’s coming around in a few minutes, it’ll be back by in 90 minutes.”

William thought and pictured the armor rolling up from the south. In 90 minutes they’d be sitting squarely at the elevator. “Can you connect to any of the other batteries?”

“I barely have a connection here, if I drop it there’s no guarantee I can get any of them back, the orbit might have decayed on the others.”

The truck stopped abruptly. They had reached the bounds of where the southern road intersected with the stamp mills. The alloy and concrete towers rose around them. To the south lay a packed road that was completely devoid of any vegetation.

William knelt in the center of the truck. “We’ve managed to connect to a single battery. Unfortunately it’s overhead right now and won’t be able to fire again for about ninety minutes.”

Groans echoed from the military personnel. The civilians were silent and looked vaguely confused.

William turned to the Civilians. “In about 60 minutes the armor will arrive, we need to keep them bottled up here, before they can breakthrough the stamp mills.”

Crow sat up and pointed to the towering masses of concrete. “We rig em and blow em once they’re in. If we can keep em bottled up we can bring down the hammer from above.”

“Did anyone know they had armor in the mines? Troops? Anything?” Sebastien asked. His tone was short, annoyed, angry.

“The trucks come from the mine, they’re all automatic, they unload at the stamp mills. We don’t go there,” the particularly drunk man said.

Sebastien stared at the grit covered floor. “Crow, get the charges set. Selim, tuck these civvies away, get everyone, and I mean everyone, out of sight.” He stood and smoothed his crumpled uniform before dropping down into the mud.

“What are you doing?” William asked as he lowered himself to the ground.

Sebastien stopped and turned slowly. “Making sure they stay where they’re supposed to. Blow the towers on my signal.”

“At least it stopped raining,” Avi said.

William watched as the augment strolled into the nearest refinery complex alone. He had no doubt of the mans capability, but he didn’t understand the anger. They were all in a bad place, but hitting the elevator didn’t sit well with him, not when tanks were coming.

The civilians milled about in poor cover until Sergeant Selim broke them into pairs and did his best to apply the meager force. Whatever troops that busted out of the APC’s would be hardened professionals, not something the civilians could deal with for long. His face was drawn tight as he directed them into cover with a monotone voice.

The Marines and Soldiers took up position near the towers to be collapsed. They assumed that two charges on each would be enough to topple it. The concrete was chalky and crumbled relatively easily at the base. Whoever had designed it hadn’t thought that permanence was of importance.

With the charges set and the positions prepared, the defenders were left with nothing but the shrill hiss of the north wind. The moment that all soldiers reflect upon before combat rolled across each man; self doubt tinged with a facet of fear. Whether of failure or death no one could quite say. The two were not necessarily the same.

William crouched in the shadows and peered outside. The word had passed that no one was to venture out. Drones. Scouts that hovered far above could relay back positions and they’d be hit without ever seeing the enemy. The urge to want to poke out and look was almost overwhelming.

Was this what his Father had felt like? When they had finally won the day against overwhelming odds, did they know? Or was it always in doubt. He realized that it was always in doubt for everyone involved until the bullets stopped flying. Anything could happen.

He stared down at his hands. They seemed thin and looked so fragile. Two men with those fingers, those frail implements of flesh and bone. He glided his hand on the damp coolness of the rifle.

“You hear that?” Kerry said as he cocked his head.

William strained his ears and heard nothing. He shook his head.

“I hear something, something outside,” Kerry said in a hushed whisper.

“Wait for Sebastien,” Crow said.

“But what will he do? How will we know? What if we miss the signal?” Kerry said.

“Private,” Crow said with a tilted head. “When have you ever known a Marine to be subtle? We’ll know.”

William rested his hand on the clammy concrete. The slightest vibration hummed through his fingertips. He raised his eyes and saw Crow nodding to the men. The armor was on the way.

The rumble grew in intensity and tone. The sound and vibration would peak before diminishing and then growing louder. The armor rose over the hills and dropped back down again moving at full pace forward.

Would they know the signal? William knew that they had a narrow window to blow the first tower. He didn’t want to ping Sebastien on the comms but the anticipation was getting to him. “Lumpy, this is Gentleman, report.” He listed to the silence and waited a moment more. “Lumpy, do you read?”

“Grace, comms clear,” Sebastien replied in a flat voice.

William rolled his shoulders and stared outside into the gray sky. The sound was growing louder with every second. That hint of adrenaline began to creep and grow as he pictured the column rolling forward. He could taste the steel in the back of his throat.

In a sudden shift of sound the vibrations dampened before growing louder in his ears. He could picture the column just outside the walls, they felt so damn close. What was Sebastien doing? He was somewhere between the two stamp mill towers.

An enormous trio of explosions rang out into the cloudy sky. The sound bounced off of the low clouds and echoed in rapid succession. Williams heart broke loose from the restrained beating and let the adrenaline wash over him.

A dull click sounded in his ear. “Go.” It was Sebastien.

William didn’t need to tell Crow to pull the tabs. The Sergeant held both of the priming tabs in his hand and was already on his way out the door.

The column had powered straight down the main supply route with no regard for what lie ahead. A bulbous tank in the lead was stopped with the trailing elements 100 meters behind, waiting. The tank rolled forward slowly as if testing a strained limb. The turret slinged to the side in a high pitched harmonic whine. The first rounds traced the upper edge of a stamp mill. A man screamed and was silent.

William followed Crow with the rifle at ready and took position near a slag heap. There was a moments pause. The silence had seemed to have returned. Then all of the armored vehicles erupted in a horrible ripping sound of weapons firing and drones launching. Rounds scattered and pinged onto the concrete buildings.

“Move! Get into cover, they’ve got drones out,” Crow said. He dashed inside of a low building.

William followed in a crush with Kerry bouncing against him at the door. The thought of being shredded or shot by an assault drone tended to speed things up.

“Shouldn’t it have gone off?” Kerry said.

The rasping sound of the explosion was like a giant tearing of cloth. The boom was a magnitude louder than the trio of explosions earlier. The ground shook for a brief moment and William could feel the explosion in the center of his gut. He unconsciously grinned at the expression of such force.

The building they had fled from billowed out gray dust. The tower seemed to float for a split second before rolling and dropping itself down right into the middle of the road. The huge mangled form of the alloy stamping mechanism was sprawled in a pile of pistons and motors.

A moment after a second explosion powered through the air. This was the clincher, the one they really needed. Without it the armor could simply back up and take another route.

William peeked out from the doorway and watched the tower through the gray smoke. It wavered for a split second and stopped exactly where it was. “Shit.”

A slender metallic body dropped down from the peak of the building and sprung at William. It was like a preying mantis with sleek legs powering it. The eyes were fearless and dull, but the mouth clacked and sang with rebounding steel. The drone was no larger than a cat.

“Gah!” William screamed as he tumbled back. He fumbled for his weapon as he rolled.

It spread its razor legs in mid air. William could see it. It almost paused for a moment with digital eyes locked on him. As suddenly as it jumped, it vaporized into an explosion of steel and electricity. Kerry lowered the weapon from his shoulder.

“Thanks!” William replied as he brushed the still humming scraps. “We gotta get that tower down!” William keyed to all channels.

He emerged from the low building with his weapon at his shoulder. He moved slowly and scanned all around him for another one of the anti-infantry drones. Each footstep was deliberate, slow in pace, but perfect in execution. The weapon swung wherever his eyes moved to. Following behind were Kerry and Crow doing the same and covering all the area around.

“Any ideas?” William clicked.

A drone skidded through the air and pivoted almost perfectly. A slender cannon was mounted on the underside. It danced in the wind for a moment before beginning to fire a high pitched round.

“Move!” Crow yelled as he fired at the hovering drone. Rounds pinged off of its body. One finally struck the rotor pivot and it spun like a broken top right into the concrete.

“Shit,” William said as he bounded forward. He could feel a tiny pinprick wound in his shoulder. He tapped it with his fingers and felt the burning of a tiny hole. Sticky blood stained his finger tips.

“Oooh!” Kerry said as he pulled William’s uniform aside to look. “Just meat!” He said with a slap and a smile.

Gunfire was erupting from the entire area. Teams of Civilians and military personnel alike were engaging the packs of drones. For a few brief moments the assault of the drones eclipsed the will of the men. The thumping of the cannons from the armored column clacked against the concrete walls in a furious display of force.

William burst onto the street and flailed himself back into cover. A few meters away was the last vehicle of the armored column. The body had slight dimples where the nanite rounds had hit and glanced off. As he slid into cover he marveled at the sharpness of everything around him.

“Where are the troops?” Selim clicked over the comms.

“Grace,” Sebastien clicked over the comms. “Move the men out, I’m sealing the exit.”

“All units, this is gentleman, sweep for the civvies and move north. Rally at the needle,” William clicked off. Behind him Crow blasted another drone.

“C’mon Grace, get moving!” Crow yelled back as he shifted away from the kill zone.

William turned and caught a glance of Sebastien moving through a refinery across the street. In his arms was a deep black carbon rod. Behind him trailed a woven cluster of conducting wire.

With the men clearing out the drones would converge on Sebastien. Augmented or not, William knew that he’d be swarmed and killed. He looked to see Crow and Kerry bustling through the slag covered yard. “Crow, hold the fort,” he clicked.

“What?” Crow asked in a surprised voice.

“Xan, load the firing pattern. The pre-planned coordinates if you would please, fire when available,” William clicked as he planned his next move.

“4 minutes,” Xan replied.

“Crow, Selim, get everyone to the needle, we’ll be right behind you,” William said. He wondered if they’d have enough time to get clear. Hell, he wondered if he could get clear.

“Grace, get the hell out,” Sebastien clicked.

William lowered his head and charged across the road dodging himself between the front of a tank and the back of an APC. The column was beginning to move and he barely dashed through. When he broke through into the darkness, he ran head first into Sebastien.

The sweat was beaded on Sebastien’s face and tinted the color red. He wore a grimace of pain as he stomped forward. He glared at William as he emerged onto the street. There was no way to stop his forward momentum now.

William jumped back to his feet and grasped onto the braided cord. He tugged and could barely assist Sebastien’s augmented strength. He drew a bead on the rifle and fired at the first drone that appeared. It popped into a shower of steel.

The second drone came in low and latched onto Sebastien just as he pressed the blunt nose against the armor of the tank. He bellowed out as the carbon rod began to crackle and sing against the armor.

The drone buzzed and clacked as it dug into his leg like a badger digging into a hill. William rushed forward and slammed it off firing into it. The tang of burning steel hit him hard. He stood by Sebastien’s side and let the rounds fly.

The carbon grew a deeper shade of black. The black shimmered in waves of heat. The corners danced on the edge of red, then orange, then a terrible white that flowed further up the rod. The armor plate resisted at first. It was acting as a giant heat sink and flowing the heat away. But it couldn’t hold, the intensity of an arc furnace was beyond what it could handle and the blunt nose began to bore inwards.

William turned his face away from the piercing white light and shot at a small ballistic drone that had appeared over the tank. It disappeared in a burst of shards. A sudden stinging wracked his thigh as a second small caliber round passed through. The rifle barked again at the newest assailant.

The carbon nose was but a centimeter away from totally disabling the tank when the APC opened fire. It had pivoted on the segmented tracks and rode up onto a debris pile so that it could traverse the gun low enough. It let loose with a single round that exploded, knocking Sebastien into the shadows.

William blinked and felt the cables dragging over him. The tank was moving backwards with the carbon rod still stuck in the side. The tank pivoted slightly to correct the course and crushed his left hand. The entire 40 ton form bore down for just a single section of track. He thrashed against it like a caught animal and clutched the mangled meat with a howl.

The cables were still moving.

He stood with the destroyed hand tucked against his sternum and raged forward. He pushed with his chest against the carbon rod and squeezed the electrode trigger with his right hand. It buzzed and sizzled and started sinking deeper. He walked step by step as the tip seemed to barely sink in. The slight pivot had covered him from the APC.

The rod wailed and hissed as a jet of acrid oily steam exploded against William. He was blasted under the shelter of an entryway. His chest was a quilt work of crushing pain and burning. Motes of light danced on the edges of his vision as he sat himself up. The tank before him was stopped.

It wiggled slightly as the APC in front began to ram itself against it, but made no progress. Further up the column the trapped armor pivoted and tested the walls. Shells hammered into the concrete trying to make an opening to exploit. Rounds that are designed to devastate tanks a few kilometers away did nothing but punch clean holes.

William felt the light ebbing from his vision as a rough hand grasped him from behind and began to drag. He curled his hand against his chest and wished more than anything that the pain would stop. He was pulled over broken stone, sharded steel, and the wreckage of what had once stood. He lost consciousness as the rain began to fall.

The orbital battery wasn’t even over the horizon when it powered up the acceleration coils. The charge was gently primed. The body of the coal black craft turned slightly and dropped its nose by just a fraction. Straight below it was a sea of blue and green. A moment later it energized the charge and sent it over the horizon.

The charge burned with an intense heat before discarding the ceramic-alloy heat shield and bearing down on the target point. Below it was serene fields of emerald green. The target was still over the horizon.

In a silent display of chaos it erupted from the sky onto the target. It had broken into a cluster of thermo-kinetic warheads. What had once been pillars of sore concrete and roofs of blackened alloy was now nothing but the shreds of dust.

The concussive blast followed as it shuddered down to bedrock and echoed through the stone. The sonic boom came a split second after and blasted the young dust cloud into shreds of silt. No one saw the empty husk reenter the atmosphere in the briefest blink of light.

The sound of horses stamping and chomping startled William awake. He’d heard those horses once before but couldn’t place where. The light burnt his eyes. His mouth was filled with the taste of ash and grit hard against his teeth. His hand throbbed. Every pump of blood tore through his core as he rolled in agony.

Sebastien was on his knees next to him. He was coated in gray dust like a survivor of Pompeii. Raindrops fell slowly. Each dragged a cluster of dust with it and slowly cleared the air.

William struggled to his knees and looked around blankly. They were surrounded by destroyed hovels with standing structures not far away. “Sebastien,” he croaked.

Sebastien turned his head slightly. He tried to rise up from his kneeling position but dropped back down. “You owe me a drink,” he said in a hollow voice.

“I think I can manage that.”

“Your hand?”

“Lets not talk about it.”

“Well, I know the feeling.”

William nodded and tried to stand before falling back down again. He wanted to laugh, to try and highlight the absurdity of it all.

“Hey, uh, we could use a ride,” he clicked through.

William stared down as the rain washed away the dust from his mangled hand. The mass of crushed meat and bone throbbed violently. He rocked back and forth as he clenched his teeth. He waved to the approaching troops with his good hand and passed out once again.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

On the Needle

The celebrations were muted after the orbital battery deposited a final payment from up above. Rye liquor and rough meals were feasted and toasted to the heroes that few had met, and none knew. The Civilian militia had taken charge and spread out to secure whatever they thought needed securing. The professionals kept watch on the elevator.

William awoke to a subtle numbness and a cool chill of dry air with wetness nearby. He recognized the nostalgic decor of the elevator complex. He stood slowly and blinked away the sleep from his eyes. His neck tickled, he reached up his right hand and felt the sheen of a nanite patch. His left hand was strapped to his chest in a tight cloth wrap.

“William,” Vito said with a smile and a glint in his eyes. “You should lay back down.”

William shook his head slowly and stifled a yawn. “No, no. More patches?”

“Peter brought them by, they found them inside of the refinery.”

William nodded. “Sebastien?”

“Like an Ox, he’s out with Crow.”

“Doing what?”

“Getting ready for us to head upstairs.”

“Oh,” William said and looked out into the hallway.

Arrayed around the embarkation area was pallets of weapons, pattern armor, and supplies. Several dozen Civilian militia were sitting idly. They looked sober and tense. Leduc sat with Avi against the polished wall, eyes closed, legs sprawled out before them.

O’Toole stood near the base of the ribbon with a combat shotgun unslung. Around him was scattered boxes, crates, and a vaguely humanoid metallic form. It was slender and lithe of build. Eduardo was hunched over it.

“What’s that?” William asked.

Xan spoke from behind a data console. “Eduardo found a Sa’Ami strider in one of the containers, he’s trying to rig it.”

William felt almost drunk as he stood and took a few ginger steps. His leg felt surprisingly good though his shoulder was sore. His left hand was like a blank slate, numb and empty.

“My hand?”

“Uh,” Vito began and stopped. “It had to come off. I’m sorry William. David found a Doctor to come in…”

William looked down to the bound arm. The stub was anchored directly over his heart. He didn’t seem to much mind. Was it the nanites? His last conversation with Sebastien came back to mind. Sebastien really was the only one who knew what it was like. William felt a slight sense of emptiness as he continued into the hallway. “Did the corvette break orbit?”

Vito shook his head. “Still there.”

William shook his head. It didn’t make sense, the corvette had no reason to remain. As far as he could tell they were firmly in control of the planet.

“They’re going to sign the Covenant,” Vito said with a proud smile.

William nodded, not entirely paying attention. He understood that this was a triumph for Vito, but he kept focusing on his hand. His fingers tingled, or at least the nerves did. It itched in a place where there was nothing. “Excellent Vito,” he replied in a mumble.

“They wanted to do a ceremony, but, well, I felt this was better.”

“What was better?” William asked as he was led out of the embarkation area.

Before him was a dozen men and women with David towering over the lot. They tried to look dignified but the veneer of grit and sorrow was tough to breach. They strained to stand upright and none seemed comfortable in the presence of the others.

Vito whispered as he grasped William’s good elbow. “I know it’s abrupt, but we needed something, something before we’re gone.”

William felt warm as the group turned to face him. He greeted them with a tired smile. This was not what he wanted to be doing. He gave Vito a sharp look and approached the group.

“Midshipman Grace, this is a historic day. The deeds of this day shall be immortalized,” David said in a smooth tone. His eyes looked tired and his shoulders hunched.

“Midshipman,” a woman with streaked gray hair said. “How many troops will you be leaving for our defense?”

“Mr. Grace,” a gravelly voiced man brought himself to the forefront. “What taxes will be levied?”

“William,” a younger woman said as she edged past David. “My family would like to secure rights to the export of wool.”

“Marjorie! I see you still have no class,” David said.

The room felt pregnant with tension and restrained hostility. William realized that these weren’t professional politicians but farmers, herders, craftsmen, all about to be hurled into an alliance with something that was nothing but an abstract concept.

“Vito can speak of the broader details, but all agreements beyond the Covenant will be handled by the delegate,” William said to the group in a loud voice.

“Where are they?” Marjorie asked in an indignant tone.

“Buried in the snow,” William said as he turned and walked back to the troops. The sounds of squabbling followed behind as Vito did his best to placate the group.

William felt lost as he stood at the base of the elevator and looked up. The ribbon disappeared into puffy white clouds like an endless black road. He waited for Sebastien.

The climbers were at ground level. Inside was stacked containers of rock and gravel along with alloy plates. Cases of shotguns were stacked near the entrance. The weapon of choice was a shotgun with low velocity shells that split plastic flechettes.

The flechette was an unfortunate necessity. A standard nanite bullet would breach the hull or destroy critical subsystems. The flechette however would bounce off hull walls. When in flesh, it would quiver and dance until it ran out of kinetic energy. The tips were grafted with a polycrystalline diamond coating. This allowed it to have some chance against armor, though it relied more on volume than on penetration.

Sebastien returned and appraised William with a knowing glance. “I’m surprised to see you up.”

“I’d say the same about you.”

Sebastien nodded with a slight smile. He ran his hand over his stubbly beard. “The tanks were unmanned.”

“Unmanned? No crew at all?”

“No bodies, hard to tell much more beyond that.”

“Controlled by the ship up above?”

Sebastien shrugged. “Maybe, but it doesn’t explain why they haven’t left yet.”

“How long till we go up?” William asked. His heart fluttered with excitement at the thought of being back in orbit.

“Not long, as soon as Crow comes back from the mines we suit up and roll.”

William nodded. “What’s at the mine?”

“You’ll have to ask him,” Sebastien replied with a wry smile.

William ate a meager meal of rye porridge mixed with shaved mutton. He couldn’t get past the tallowy feel of it.

Sebastien and Selim instructed the militia on how to assault a spacecraft. Use the cover, secure the breach, work in sections. It sounded so simple, so mechanical. The militia had a look of intense concentration fused with confusion.

Crow jogged into the room with Peter close behind. He gave a quick nod to Sebastien and strolled over to William. “William, how are you feeling?”

William shrugged. “Well enough. You look excited, what’s up?”

Sebastien walked up with Selim and all eyes focused on Crow.

Crow took a deep breath and nodded his head to the south. “The mines, big cuts right? They’re taking the refined ores from the refinery here and putting them back into the mines.”

William shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“There’s no refined ingots here, nothing. The cargo loaders have been moving stuff down, not up.” Crow pointed to elevator cars. “They’ve got the ability to move big stuff up, so why don’t they?”

Blank looks responded to the query.

William wracked his mind. “This isn’t a rogue mining operation is it?”

“There was an additive manufacturing cell there, it was working on assembling tanks, armor panels, struts,” Crow said in a low voice.

William was caught in silence. This planet was far away from Hun and Sa’Ami space. “If they operated here they’d have an isolated structure to harass from, but they’d be cut off.”

Crow shrugged. “It’s what we saw, I don’t know why, but we need to get this information back and soon. They’ve got enough materials stockpiled to make one hell of a resupply base.”

All of the men stood and absorbed the news. Currently the UC held the advantage in the cold war, but if a second front was opened who knows what would happen. William pictured the spheres of influence, the UC as a giant sphere with the Sa’Ami and Hun on the far edge. Too far to ever make real use of the base on Redmond.

“It’d take them months upon months, this is a damned long voyage from Sa’Ami space, even longer from Hun. We could intercept em throughout the route,” William shook his head.

“Got me, I’m just a grunt,” Crow said with a shrug. “But we need that ship.”

William nodded and let the information digest. There were few naval assets on this edge to counter an invasion. The United Colonies would be caught in the middle. Whatever the people on this planet had endured so far would be nothing compared to when the Hun or Sa’Ami took possession. The attackers would have to pass through Gracelle and then K126 space, they’d never make it without the UC noticing. He knotted his brow and put the question behind him. No use getting worked up about something he couldn’t do anything about.

The assault teams spread into two groups on either side of the ribbon. The professionals stood in clusters of their own. The strider laid on the ground heaped with wires and plating. It was silent but held a certain aura of restrained violence.

William tore a notch in the bandages and stuffed in his pistol holster. He couldn’t quite get it to stay in place without popping out when he drew the weapon.

“What are you doing?” Sebastien asked.

“Getting ready,” William replied. He tucked in the holster once more and wedged it sideways.

“Negative. You’re not coming up till it’s clear.” Sebastien swept an arm towards the two groups. “They’re in full body armor, with shotguns, and they’ve got two arms. What are you going to do?”

William seethed but knew Sebastien was right. “Take the pistol, to hell with the armor, and give me a shotgun.” He stalked over to a case of the weapons and drew out a stubby weapon. It was heavy in his hand. “Eduardo! Get me a saw.”

“Hmm, si, over there,” Eduardo said with a preoccupied tone.

“You’re not coming. What the hell are you doing?” Sebastien asked as he followed.

William dropped the shotgun onto a plastic case and stepped on it with his good leg. He grasped the powered saw and plunged the reciprocating blade into the stock of the weapon. In a short moment the butt had dropped off. He kicked it so that it spun around and he did the same to the barrel.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sebastien said.

William hefted the ragged edge of the shotgun into his hands. It was unbalanced, rough, probably shot crooked, but it was a weapon. “How about I stay in the elevator until you clear the entry. You’re going to need someone who knows a Naval vessel.”

“I’ve got Tero, he’s a Ships Engineer.”

“You need a command officer, someone with bridge experience,” William pleaded.

“Like hell, you’re a Midshipman.”

“And how many starships have you flown?”

Sebastien glared back. “You stay in the climber until we get to the ship. If I see anyone helping you I toss your ass back into the climber. Got it?”

William nodded. “Got it.”

The climbers were loaded with the eager, the foolhardy and the desperate. They crammed behind the crates and the alloy plates and relaxed as best they could.

The strider hopped awkwardly near the door as Eduardo cursed and swore behind it. The slender limbs jerked and wavered like a man with palsy. It slowly walked forward and half collapsed, half fell, into the side of the climber. Everyone edged away as it jerked its head and had what appeared to be a mild seizure.

Eduardo walked on behind it with a small black toolbag. “How long have I got to fix this pile of shit?”

“47 minutes,” Crow replied with a serious face.

Eduardo nodded and squatted next to it. He opened a carbon panel and began digging in. O’Toole sat near the back of the strider and connected a small tablet.

A few troops remained on the ground. Von Hess was cradled in the cloth chair as he communicated with Eduardo in a rapid banter. Beside him sat Tik and Xan. Militia, civilians, and the occasional child clustered into the control room and watched.

The doors slid shut against heavy alloy bumpers and sealed with a dull boom of pressurized air. The climber clanged for a moment and began the steady rise upwards.

The city came into view as a ragged mess of rubble, smoke, and the construction of desperation. Beyond it the farms and pastures winked emerald before giving way to the haze and low clouds. Everything disappeared. Only a featureless haze blustered outside the window.

William stretched his good arm and patted the ragged butt of the shotgun that was tucked into a bandage tied as a belt. The steel taste came back into his mouth. Finally, back into space.

He could sense the nervousness in the militia around him. Some laughed and stomped and shifted. Most stood silently and stared at nothing. One man sat down and began to sob.

The climber broke through the low cloud cover in an eruption of light. Below them stretched a quilt of fluffy white with a breakthrough of bright green. The curvature of the planet blended into high clouds. They were gaining altitude and fast.

The floor pushed harder against Williams feet as the rate of acceleration continued. His knees grew sore as he shifted his weight.

“The air is thinner, we can go a helluva lot faster,” Aleksandr said to a civilian.

William settled in and squeezed his toes tight against his boots. The smell of the elevator began to hit him as the fear grew.

An alarm clanged. A buzzing sensation passed through Williams legs and the acceleration dropped in intensity.

“The field shifted, one G for us, another to slow the car,” Aleksandr said as he hopped and stretched. “It used to be topsy-turny time and a bit of freefall, now the Gracelle fields shift it all. Took the thrill out of it.”

William wasn’t sure about a thrill. The feeling of two different accelerations made his stomach queasy as the field shifted and pulsed. How much longer? They must almost be there. He looked to Sebastien who rested back against the alloy barrier and had his eyes closed. Was he sleeping?

Crow clicked through onto the comms. “Two minutes, safeties off, time to wake up.”

Sebastien blinked his eyes open and stifled a yawn. William wondered how anyone could sleep. Though he knew if he had much more time he’d surely collapse.

“Eduardo, you got that thing working?” Crow asked.

Eduardo shook his head without turning to face Crow.

“Listen up, once the doors open the heavies go out and everyone else follows. Push the crates. Stay behind the alloy. Get spread out,” Crow said.

Sebastien stood and grasped the handle of an alloy plate. Even he could barely budge it, but he could damn well slide it.

As suddenly as it began the car stopped and the second field dissipated. William felt the bile rise. The taste of rye flooded through his mouth. His ears popped as the air pressures equalized.

“Ready! Move on my call!” Crow yelled.

The air buzzed with the energy of the men tethered and waiting like a stampede at the gate. The door popped open a fraction of an inch, paused, and slid gracefully away.

The immediate sound of gunfire and the ricocheting of plastic balls careened into the climber. William hissed as one struck his chest but the energy had been drawn out in a ricochet.

Sebastien grunted and began driving the alloy plate forward. Men streamed behind him. As soon as the plate cleared the door the militia opened fire into everything, everywhere. Flechettes flew in the wide expanse before them.

The space was almost cavernous. What had once been a colony ship was now an orbital platform. Stacked all around were containers and netted dunnage. Some looked old while most looked fresh and new. The defenders were well placed and hidden throughout.

William waited and watched as the troops streamed forward. He could picture the same thing happening directly behind him as the other climber came into position. The concussions of the shotguns in the close quarters made his ears ring. He drew the shotgun from his waist and crouched near the door.

Sebastien had gone ten meters and stopped. He released the alloy plate and pulled out his shotgun. Plastic balls bounced with a dull sound against the alloy plate. A militia man was slammed back and laid in a heap with an egg shaped divot in his forehead.

Crow sprinted into a heap of netted dunnage. Leduc was on his heels with a pack of militia. The militia fired wildly while the professionals kept the weapon at or near the shoulder and fired with more precision. The defenders slowly pulled back but not without driving up the butchers bill.

Men lay in groups or alone, dead or dying. The armor worked wonders but the kinetic energy contained in the spheres was enough to knock a man to his knees.

William crept out from the climber and joined a group of militia who were spraying flechettes in the direction of a particularly large container. Behind it a fully armored man popped out and sprayed the spheres at them.

A man squirmed at William’s feet with his Adams apple pushed into his throat. A deep purple-black bruise was already spreading as the man grasped and flailed at his closed airway. William dropped the shotgun next to the man and squeezed the cartilage back open a with an audible crunch. The man sucked air in gasps and wheezes.

Screams came from his right. William picked up the shotgun. A small shape, the size of an armored dog, jumped off of the top of a container and ran along the side of the next. Flechettes bounced off of the beasts armored flanks as it bored down on a group of militia. William watched in horror as it set upon them like a wild animal, thrashing and flaying at men with claws of alloy.

“Smash it!” Selim yelled as he charged forward. He gripped his shotgun like a mallet grasping the short barrel.

The creature turned, hopped, and shifted away before disappearing over the top of a container. Selim tucked himself tight against the container. Dead men were scattered about his feet. More screams came from further down. He stood and sprinted into the fray.

William poked his head up and tried to squeeze a round off at the armored defender. He slowly squeezed the trigger and found himself lying on his back. He thought for a second that he was shot in the face but realized that the recoil of the pistol had flipped the barrel back and it had cracked him on the bridge of his nose. Blood streamed down into his mouth.

“Get clear!” Eduardo clicked over the comms.

The Sa’Ami strider erupted from the mouth of climber and leaped onto the top of a container. It paused for a moment before prowling down and disappearing into the maze of containers. Screams rose from the other side of the hall.

“Go go!” Crow yelled as the combined teams spread out and moved forward.

William crouched and ran behind the men before him directly to where the defender was. They turned the corner with weapons drawn and found a corpse with the armor collapsed by a blunt force. They continued forward.

A horrible screech and bang greeted William as he turned the next container. The enemy strider, smaller and bulkier, was squaring off against the larger one. William slid himself around the container and watched as they engaged.

The Sa’Ami strider hopped up and bounded to the side of the dog like unit. The dog-strider snapped around and delivered a steely caress that sent the Sa’Ami strider off to the side. It skittered on the decking and charged back in.

Flechettes and the plastic balls impacted on both of the striders as they came in together. The speed at which the limbs pumped and slammed was but a blur. The dog-strider slipped loose and pulsed in between the arms of the Sa’Ami strider only to find the legs had flipped up and over. Now the long arms of the Sa’Ami strider were able to keep the dog-strider at bay.

One arm clenched the alloy spine and pinned the thrashing beast as the other arm pulsed against the seams of the body like an unrelenting blacksmiths hammer. The metal seam parted and the dog-strider thrashed wildly until it buckled and was still.

“Move!” Crow yelled.

The combined forces surged ahead with the form of the Sa’Ami strider bouncing into the cover leaving nothing behind. They found fewer defenders as they moved cautiously up towards the rear of the docking station.

They trailed the strider through the now silent docking station. The hatch leading to the boarding tube was open, but hanging askew. The Marines entered first through the zero-g tunnel. The militia waited cautiously with William.

Avi exited back into the docking station and found William waiting. “C’mon Mr. Grace! Make a hole!” He shoved the ambling militia away and darted back into the tunnel.

William pushed past the militia and stepped off of the orange line marking the end of gravity and propelled himself through the zero gravity. At the opposite end, another orange line was above him that marked the start of ships gravity. He tucked, laid his feet out and made the seamless transition. Except up was now down.

He pushed through the narrow corridors and followed behind Avi who was running ahead. It was narrow, tight, constricting. The air had a scent of spiced cookies with a hint of steamed dinner. The ship was familiar to a point, it was not of Human design, but that of the mechanical K742. Glances of consoles told of a Gracelle hand in the design as well. It took everything he had not to stop and check it out.

The corridor opened up into a wider common area with crates and containers secured to the deck above and below. It was common practice to load ships in zero-gravity. No use in letting the ceilings go to waste. William edged his way through the tight space and caught up with Avi.

The strider was tucked up into a fetal position at the entrance to the command room. Inside stood Sebastien and Selim. William caught glimpses of other Soldiers and Marines sweeping through the ship. An almond skinned woman in a blue jumpsuit sat on the floor. Behind her laid a dead man with carbon pads on his temples.

“Mr. Grace, this is Captain Melati,” Sebastien said.

William looked down at the woman. She looked upwards with deep brown eyes. “Ma’am, in the name of the United Colonies I am taking possession of your ship.” The words rolled out of his mouth and he felt surprised saying them.

She winced as he spoke and nodded. “May I collect my husband?”

William looked to Sebastien.

Sebastien pointed to the dead man with carbon pads.

“Sergeant Selim, get a detail here to bring out the body.” William walked past the woman. The bridge was sparse and relatively simple. The K742 design philosophy was simplicity and minimalism. A simple system that would fail in a simple way. Curved screens were dark around him. He sat at the center console and laid a hand on the granite like plate.

Lights flashed and flickered before settling into a steady state. To the right and left appeared system diagnostics with a simple map of the planet and moon. William snapped his head around to the woman. Her eyes smoldered with hatred.

“Sebastien!” He snapped. “Get everyone into this ship now, we’ve got a marauder inbound.” The projected course of the marauder brought it directly to the docking station.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Space

The bridge glowed with a subtle intensity. The illuminated screens gave just the basics about each and every subsystem. Only in the event of failure would they relay more. Information overload had become the greatest threat to the proper operation of a starship.

William sat at the center console and pored over the gravity well chart before him. Dimples sat next to puddles which orbited spheres. Slender lines appeared, disappeared, and reformed in a different direction. He concentrated on each route as quickly as he could, slowly dropping everything into a wider view.

“William?” Xan said as he slid into console.

“Oh shit!” William said. “You scared me.”

Xan smiled and fired up the console. “Well, this is more like it.” His hands danced over the screen. “We’ve got full comms!” He stopped, leaned forward, and tapped the granite. “Oh my. I found our orbital batteries.”

“What?” William turned. “Can you transfer the plot?”

Xan nodded. “Coming right up.”

A series of icons blinked onto the screen above William. Each was in a low orbit, almost to the point of decay. “Have you seen Tero?”

“He’s checking on the Haydn.”

William nodded. “Comms are up yes? Bound on the table?”

“Bindings are up. Give it a try.”

William tabbed on a dull red icon projected onto the console. “Tero, you getting me?”

“Oh. Hey! You chose a good ship to steal!” Tero replied.

“How’s it look down there? I’m showing a standard drive, is it ready to go?”

“As far as I can tell. K743 all the way through, it’s old, but all of their stuff is.”

“Get ready to move, we’re going to embark shortly.”

“What? Already? We just got here.”

William slid his hand across the console once, twice, a third time before scrolling down with his fingertips. A full list of ships provisions was displayed before him. He nodded his head quickly.

William turned to Xan, “Ship wide broadcast open?”

“One second…” Xan tapped a few more buttons.

A white icon appeared on the console. William slapped at it. “All hands to the bridge.”

William sat back and watched as the projected trajectories converged in front of him. He didn’t like any of the choices, but he liked the thought of staying even less. The marauder inbound was a Hun Heavy Cruiser, large enough to carry a full compliment of troops and designed for harassment.

Sebastien plopped down into an empty chair. His eyes were tired. The others came in and stood silently at the rear.

William turned to face them with the display of the system map behind him. “In about two hours a Hun marauder is going to dock at this station.” He waited a second as the animation looped once more behind him. “This ship doesn’t have near the firepower to engage it successfully, and it is about a dead match for us in propulsion.”

“So we run right now Mr. Grace?” Leduc said.

William shook his head. “They’d slam us on the way out of the gravity well. If we power up now they have the benefit of velocity, they’d catch us quick. We’re going to wait till they slow down to dock and then hit them with a surprise.”

Tired smiles appeared around the room.

Williams eyes glinted as he continued. “So when a ship blinks between gravity wells they come from one gravity well and head to the next. Notice where this ship is coming from,” William turned and highlighted the trajectory. “It came from nowhere.”

The course the Hun marauder had followed showed it coming from a blank point in space with no gravity wells inline. “Now it could have turned, or shifted in space, but I see no reason why it would. I don’t know how they did it, but we’ve got to get this information back.”

“Find the crew quarters, strap yourselves in, and relax. Before we engage I’ll let everyone know. Questions?”

“Um, Mr. Grace, what should we do?” Avi asked.

“There’s not much to do. If we get hit to the point that the hull is breached just stay where you have life support. This ship has a full complement of repulsor shields and a nice coating of nickel ablative armor. We’ll be a tough nut to crack.” William looked around at the men and nodded. “We’ve come this far, let’s get home.”

The Soldiers and Marines nodded and streamed off of the bridge.

Sebastien stood like a creaking machine. “Wake me up when we’re clear.”

Sebastien disliked starships. They were tight, compact, and everything seemed to want to squeeze against everything else. This one was a bit better as it was designed to carry ten times as many as were on it. But it was still tight.

He disliked being useless on a starship. He was now just cargo for the Navy. At the end of every deployment came that initial moment of relaxation followed by the boredom. You could only clean, repair, and exercise so much. Then, he knew, the memories would hit as all those other voyages came back.

He walked through the silent corridors. He opened doors and peered into the darkness until he found a room with a bed. A duffel bag sat on top in a crumpled pile. He swatted it onto the floor. He stripped out of his uniform and lay down.

Diagnostics cascaded down over his closed eyelids. Nothing serious, nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. He still had a few months until the nanite grafts began to run out. Then he’d move like a 90 year old geriatric.

Sleep wouldn’t come. It was always the same as the adrenaline seeped out. He’d been running on the edge of exhaustion for so long that he couldn’t just relax. This reminded him of his first drop. He sighed and opened his eyes.

“Farshore,” he mouthed quietly.

The Hun marauder decelerated and swept through the orbital plot just as William had expected. He feared that it would change course and cover an exit point. They had to know the ship had been attacked. Xan registered no comms chatter, though that was as telling as a hail.

He took a few minutes to wander from the bridge and opened the door into the Captains quarters. The room was dimly lit and covered in bright red cloth. Displays flashed pictures of the woman with the dead man. A necklace of seashells hung near the edge of the bed. They had the one thing he desired, a steam-needle shower.

He stripped down slowly and gently. It took a few tries to remove his jacket with a bandaged stump. He held the stump outside of the steam jets. The entire time he looked down the length of his arm and stared at nothing.

William gave a quick salute to Avi as he passed onto the bridge. The Marine Private had stationed himself outside the door.

“Oh, well, look at you!” Vito whistled. He wore a set of clean civilian clothes.

William walked back onto the bridge in a clean set of mechanics coveralls. He smiled sheepishly and straightened himself up. They were a bit too large for him but he couldn’t manage to get anything else buttoned or zipped. “I’ve dreamed of a shower.” He sat down and stared at the display. No change. 30 minutes.

William keyed the bindings. “Xan, Tero, Eduardo. To the bridge please.”

Xan and Tero rushed onto the bridge, both in clean clothes. Eduardo came behind with overalls tied around his waist. He had found a clean uniform and his arms were bared. The tattoos shivered as a setting sun with the shadow of a crucifix. Williams stomach grumbled with hunger.

“I’ve laid the course in. When they approach to secure themselves to the station we’re going to burn. Once they set a course to follow I need those batteries to hit em, and hit em in unison.” William turned and highlighted the course. “It’ll take us about an hour to clear the well, the first blink will take us about 2 AU’s out. It’ll be a few more hours to clear that peak, then an 8 AU blink. That next burn is going to be a few days.”

“Where are we going?” Vito asked.

“If we head in the most direct line back to UC space we expose our flank on the way out. So we’re going to head for K space, bounce a few systems, and get back that way.”

“How long?”

“Two months.”

Vito nodded absently and stood. “I better go get seated.”

William watched the marauder slide in closer. This was his first time in command of an actual starship. He had spent hundreds of hours in simulators competing against others. This though wouldn’t end with a scoreboard.

The only hitch was if the marauder opened fire while they sat on the station. They’d most definitely destroy the docking station and the elevator with it. He wondered what the Captain of the other vessel was thinking, they had to know it was a ruse, but how to proceed?

“Well gentleman, here we go. Xan, I need you to load a program to the orbital batteries. Tero, Eduardo, you’ll need to monitor critical systems. I’m going to run the guns and do some fine tuning on the piloting.”

“May I suggest Von Hess to handle the piloting Sir?” Eduardo said.

William turned his head. “He’s rated for starships?”

“I’ve yet to find a vehicle or vessel he cannot handle.”

“Very well, send him up.” William nodded and wondered what he could do with a truly talented pilot.

William clicked on the ships comm system. “In 10 minutes we burn. We’ve got one hour to dance, stay put until we give the all clear.”

The navigation program was laid out before him. He gave one final scan to the critical systems. Everything was set. He tapped a gray icon and the clamps unhooked with a deep shudder. They were floating free, waiting.

Von Hess entered with a limp and sat in the cloth couch. He attached the carbon leads that the dead man wore last.

William gave him a nod. He’d never look at the quiet German quite the same after the massacre earlier. “Can you fly this?”

Von Hess closed his eyes and nodded with a smile. “Of course Mr. Grace, I can fly anything. How hard can it be?”

William smirked and nodded. “The vector out can’t change, we’re locked into that. But with a ship this nimble we can roll.”

“Here we go, we’re burning in 10.” William tapped the program execution tab gently and watched as the numbers counted down. He turned his eyes to the display and watched the velocity of the marauder drop to match the station. He tapped again and let the screen split into the system view with the visual tiled alongside. The marauder slid into view.

The corvette slowly edged away from the docking station.

William held his breath. Part of him wanted the marauder to dock and leave him be, but another part wanted it to follow. Not just for the chase, but also to spare the militia another fight. A fight he was fairly sure they would lose.

The screen showed the velocity remaining stable with zero acceleration. The bulky form hovered and turned slightly. The numbers began to rise. It was going to chase.

“Xan, load it up! As soon as it’s clear of the needle we’re going to open fire,” William said. The excitement was beginning to rise and a wicked little smile spread on his lips. He brought up the weapons control and laid out the program. His left hand began to throb, he glanced down and wondered how something that didn’t exist could hurt.

“Von Hess, after the first barrage I need you to roll so that we can get the second. After that keep the stronger set of fields or armor facing them. I’ll handle the weapons.”

Alarms sounded and a subtle metallic humming passed through the ship. The marauder had began to fire with prow mounted railguns. Sparks of light flickered on the top of the marauder as a barrage of missiles powered in.

William gritted his teeth as the warheads came closer. He could feel the light hum of the repulsor field momentarily increasing the gravitational field to counteract the missiles. The mass driver opened up to intercept the missiles.

Alarms flashed onto the display. The shields peaked and redlined as the missiles overwhelmed it. The railguns punched in for another volley. William braced himself.

The ship rolled in a gentle arc allowing the stressed fields to bleed the energy they had retained. The remaining rounds impacted on the fresh field. William shot a glance at Von Hess. There was a slight smile across the pilots lips. “Well done Von Hess.”

“They’ll clear the station in about 30 seconds.” Tero said.

William knew that the missile barrage would take a few minutes to reload. He prepped his weapons program and watched as the marauder built velocity up.

“Clear!” Tero yelled.

William slapped his hand down onto the granite table and set the program into motion.

Rear mounted batteries of lower caliber mass drivers began to expel a stream of tungsten-nickel pellets. Each projectile contained a bit of energy but the combined force of the stream could overwhelm a repulsor grid. The marauder, small in the distance of the camera, winked with green flashes as the nickel impacted silently.

“Orbital batteries have fired!” Xan yelled.

The orbital batteries were arrayed around the planet in a simple spread. Each one out of sight of the others. William had generated a program that would deliver each of the projectiles into an orbit that would, hopefully, impact the marauder.

The marauder tilted slowly, but not before a stream of the mass driver particles punished through the repulsor and impacted the hull. Railguns opened fire a split second later driving a pair of depleted uranium slugs into it. Nanite particles charged into the hull in an incandescent white burn before winking out.

William felt excited as he watched his program burn through and deliver a blow that they definitely felt. The marauders velocity was rising and the acceleration was growing at a rate that troubled him.

“Mr. Xan, how long? Tero, everything good?”

“Uh, four minutes,” Xan replied.

“Well enough Mr. Grace,” Tero called back.

William slapped down the next program and hoped that they could handle the next barrage. He had no doubt the marauder learned and would deliver the next blow more decisively. He had to keep the attention on him and not on what was coming over the horizon.

The marauder sparkled as both top and bottom batteries deployed another array of missiles. The prow railguns continued to pound the repulsor fields. The rotating of the corvette would only do so much to spread the damage out. Tero began to hum to himself as the missiles approached.

The missiles, after expending the initial fuel, coasted until they reached the corvette where they drove in with a renewed vigor.

The mass drivers opened fire on the approaching missiles. The missile explosions coalesced in a field of plasma that blossomed onto the armor. The marauder’s railgun walked rounds onto the hull stitching a jagged trail in the nickel alloy armor.

William tensed his stomach as the repulsors peaked into the red. His eyes stared unblinking until the readouts finally slid lower. Another barrage like that would overwhelm the heat sinks and the armor couldn’t take a sustained railgun assault.

“Xan, give me something good.” William laid out the next weapons program.

“It’s going to be close, they might get off another shot. Orbital batteries weren’t designed for this sort of thing.”

“I can bring her around and cut the drive,” Von Hess said in a low tone.

“Negative.” William called back. His hands hovered over the console. He held his breath and watched the display. Any second, he knew, any second. The desire to strike again was almost overwhelming.

The marauder began to fire the railguns once more. The rounds impacted further along the hull at a steeper angle. The heat each round generated was dispersed among more of the repulsor fields. William realized that this would be more than they could handle when the missiles landed. Already the repulsors were stressed.

“William…” Tero called out. “We’re going to have-”

“I know!” William snapped back. Think think! What if the batteries missed? Had they already gone past and they hadn’t seen it? Ten seconds more and he’d strike back with something, anything.

He counted down till he reached four and something happened.

At first it appeared like another barrage was incoming. The color was different and the position was random. Blinks of green and yellow flashed against the repulsor fields before an overwhelming light blinked out the display. Something hit the marauder. Something hit it hard.

William slapped the console. The sensors were all recalibrating and the weapons fired blind. The mass driver took in the last known position and wavered through a minute of angle to cover a probable grid. The railguns compensated for the velocity and spouted out more rounds. The ship hummed as an electromagnetic shockwave slammed against it.

“Eduardo, how long?” William yelled. The excitement was getting to him. The steely taste floated in the back of his mouth as the adrenaline was back. He needed to try and calm himself. This was going to be a long haul.

“I don’t know!” Eduardo called out. He fidgeted and tapped the consoles cautiously with arms wreathed in scrolling figures.

William sat forward and flexed the fingers on his right hand. The tactical display flickered on. The icon of the marauder showed that it was still moving. Still in place. His heart dropped a second until he saw that the acceleration was dropping slowly.

“Hey hey! We got something, they’re slowing down,” William yelled out.

The celebration was short lived as the acceleration slowly began to edge up again. But it was enough. Every meter they grew apart was another meter of breathing room for the repulsors to recharge. Every meter gave the mass drivers more time to engage the missiles. Railgun fire continued to pound against the repulsors but they were holding steady.

“10 minutes till blink,” Von Hess said in a low tone.

The marauder seemed to pause as the acceleration winked to zero. Was this it? Were they going to fall back? William blinked his eyes and watched.

The marauder reengaged the drives. The ships acceleration tripled what it had been.

“Shit.” William slapped in another program. “Tero, can you see anything yet? How the hell?”

“Uh, I don’t know, they shouldn’t be able to do that. They’re moving at nearly four gees, they aren’t designed for that.” He tapped at the console and sat back. “They repositioned the crew grav fields in line. Once you do that you can’t realign. They’re giving it all they got to catch us now.”

William stared up at the screen. The visual display popped back on again. Everything seemed slightly grainy as the sensors were still coming online. The marauder still glowed on the outer edge where the orbital battery had struck.

“Can you hit them on the nose?” Tero asked.

“What? Maybe. Why?” William replied. His stump ached and tingled.

The weapons systems were computer controlled for maximum impact. The program preferred to work in concert with the other weapons for optimal damage instead of targeting individual points. They had the statistical proficiency that no human gunner ever would. But in regards to single shots, statistics wouldn’t cover the numbers.

“They’ve changed the field layout, the repulsors aren’t tuned for that acceleration, the field is dragging behind.” Tero let the words hang. The very tip of the Hun marauder was unshielded.

“Highlight where, I’m going to need to override and do it manually,” William said. He delved deeper into the command console rigging the weapons program for manual control.

The nose of the marauder wore a dim orange overlay. A small area directly in the center was vulnerable. It would be a shot that only a railgun could make.

William drifted his fingers over the console and watched as the impact point shifted on the marauder. It would take a direct hit to punch through the armored nose. The time to blink was drawing close. He sat back and took a deep breath.

The marauder’s armor was finally beginning to cool enough that it didn’t glow. One entire edge was a ragged mess of slagged armor and wrecked launcher tubes. A bit closer and the Hun railguns would begin to fire once more. The repulsors were stressed enough from the last barrage.

William realized if his repulsors were almost spent that the Huns must be maxed out as well. The time was now, he had to fire. “Hess, slam em!”

The mass drivers opened up into a less accurate spread. The green flashes of vaporized nickel peppered the entire leading edge of the accelerating marauder. One burst through and then another.

The focal point changed for a split second and William twitched it aside. With a gentle tap he set off the first pair of railgun rounds. Each one sped from a Xeno designed turret and careened through the empty space. One of the rounds deflected off of the grav field but the other was funneled right in and exploded in a spectacular display of incandescent light.

Cheers erupted as they had finally struck a blow that would hurt, if not cripple, the Hun marauder. The sparks from the impact cascaded and were slung out from the grav field as if a fountain of burnt iron gushed out. The embers glowed as they passed in the wake of the marauder. Heat dissipated tediously in a vacuum.

William watched as the reload indicator of the railguns progressed. His feet tapped back and forth. It seemed sluggishly slow. The room was completely silent, only the hum of the grav drive bled into the room. “How much longer?”

“Two minutes,” Xan called.

Two minutes. It’d be close. The railguns might load in time. If it did he could quite possibly slam another round home. Did they know? They had to know.

The railgun had to bleed heat that. Fire too fast and the projectile would weld itself into the barrel. The reload indicator crawled upwards. Orange, then yellow, then just turning to green.

“In 3!” Xan said as he hunched forward in the chair.

“No! We’ll get her,” William cried out. He slammed down his hand onto the console and let loose a round. The last thing he saw was the nose of the marauder panning to the side.

The consoles winked. A low hum passed through the floor. The corvette had slipped through the Haydn field and was now 2 AU’s further.

William stared at the empty screen and felt the palm of his hand burning. Did he hit it? Was the round already out? He licked his lips and looked at the others. Everyone was smiling in relief. He felt relieved, but also cheated, he could’ve landed a killing blow… or had one landed on him.

“Is that it?” Eduardo asked.

The adrenaline ebbed. William released all of his muscles and suddenly felt an empty place inside of him. That thrill, that feeling, the dread mixed with the excitement was seductive. Now he was just tired. His left hand itched furiously, all he could do was grit his teeth.

“We’ll know shortly if they’re going to follow,” William said. He ran his hands over his eyes and stretched back. A number caught his eye. “Xan, can you verify position?”

“We, uh, we went further than she would have,” Xan said as he leaned towards the display.

“Huh. I’m going down to see the Haydn,” Tero replied quietly and walked out of the room.

“I’m not sure I…” Eduardo trailed off.

“The Haydn drive skips over the top of gravity waves. It’s like a big sine wave. You get far enough away from a gravity well and skip across the trough. You drop out near the peak of the next gravity wave and power through to the falling edge and blink again.”

Eduardo nodded slowly.

“We measure the drive by how efficient it is at reaching the peak. The greater the efficiency the less time you spend burning between peaks. Right now the distance is small as the waves are spaced close together, but in between the stars it can take weeks.”

“Sounds like a filter in an electronic circuit,” Eduardo said.

“You’ll have to ask Tero about it. All I know is we are about 8% more efficient than we should have been.”

William relaxed a bit more and kept watch on the screen. He was hungry and wanted nothing more than to eat and drink a proper meal. The slight smells of something cooking wafted through the ventilation system.

Tero returned with a smile on his face. “The Haydn is sealed, looks unusual, Gracelle maybe?” He shrugged and sat back down.

Eduardo engaged him in conversation about the details of the Haydn.

“If you don’t mind Mr. Grace, I’m going to rest, it can be overwhelming,” Von Hess said.

“Absolutely, you did good work,” William said. He’d been surprised at the versatility of the strider pilot.

The bridge grew silent as everyone kept an eye on the display. The marauder had turned, ever so slightly and would need time to get back on the right tack or it might turn around. William saw no reason to speak to the rest of the crew yet, not until he knew if the Hun marauder was in pursuit.

He ran through the diagnostics. They were banged up, but nothing critical yet. Not that they could do much anyways.

Then it appeared. William crouched forward and smiled an animal smile. The Hun marauder was back, way back, back where the corvette should have come in. The distance was too far to get a good visual on the prow. It held in position for a few moments before the velocity began to rise. William kept his eye on the the acceleration.

The marauder accelerated again up to 4G’s.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Beyond

William sat on the edge of a rimmed white table. Eyes rose up from the benches and seats as everyone waited for him to speak. An empty bowl sat by his side with a few yellow noodles starched to the rim. Bowls were scattered everywhere as the survivors indulged in whatever they wanted. The world of privation had ended.

“They hit us hard, the only thing that kept us alive was one of the orbital batteries slamming them, it knocked out half of their missile batteries.” William shifted and looked into the tired eyes of those around him. Did they really trust him to get them out of this? The thought still surprised him. “We’ve got an advantage, we jump further. But they are faster, much faster, in the peaks. We’re going to make the next jump before they do, but the jump after that is a lot longer and they might catch us before we can jump again.”

“So, uh, Mr. Grace,” Avi said as he stood. “What can we do?”

William looked around at the faces around him. They were gaunt, wounded, tired, but still eager. He scanned each man for a moment. They were dirty, black earlobes, gray cheeks, cut, burned and bruised. If he felt this lousy he was sure everyone else did. The last thing he would want to do is sit and wait, so why would they?

“Crack open every single box, container, and locker. Find something we can use, anything, I’m open to ideas,” William said.

They nodded and the mood changed from a complacency of a passenger to the professionalism of a crew with a mission.

“But first eat, shower, get into clean clothes, and dress your wounds. I expect you’ll find a fully functioning medical suite, use it.” William stood. “Tero, you have the bridge.”

“Squad. Attention!” Sergeant Crow bellowed out.

All of the troops snapped up from the seats and stood at attention. They were dirty and disheveled but not anywhere near beat.

William returned the best salute he could manage and walked out.

Crow followed behind William through the narrow corridor. “Mr. Grace, that applies to you too yes?”

William nodded leaned against a bulkhead. “Does it show?”

“You’ll do us no good sleep deprived, bleeding, and hungry.” Crow pointed to the stump, the end was slowly spreading red. “Let’s find the medical suite.”

The pair wandered through a few corridors. William was impressed with the organization of every room he entered. Whoever ran the ship knew exactly how to keep it up. It was designed for a much larger compliment than was onboard. Reminders of the previous crew were all around, trinkets, shells, a coconut, a stiff yellow palm frond.

They found the medical suite and Crow changed the dressing. William got his first look at where his hand once was. The skin was folded back into a ragged seam like the top of a burlap bag. The color seemed unnatural and the stitches looked like something out of a cobbler shop. None of it seemed to bother Crow who bound it firmly but gently and slapped a patch onto his shoulder.

“You’ve done this before?” William asked. The nanites numbed everything and the itching stopped.

Crow nodded and began to change a dressing on Kerry. “Yes, unfortunately. Religious cranks once. Then a docking station from Sa’Ami on Tunis.” His hands weaved a new bandage around Kerry’s shoulder. “The cranks were a pain, the Sa’Ami were few in number but they made up for it in tenacity and augmentation.” He slapped Kerry on the good shoulder. “Now git.”

A thumb worn photo of a woman standing on a green plain was stuck next to a cabinet. Crow leaned forward to give it an appraising look. “I saw quite a few amputations after that fight. The Sa’Ami moved so fast.” He let the words drift away as he nodded at the photo. “Good looking girl,” he said with a nod.

William felt the gentle sedation begin to wrap around him like a silky blanket. Chills ran down his back and his muscles relaxed. “Woo. I’m going to need to lay down.”

“Avi! Help Mr. Grace to his quarters,” Crow called.

The Marine Private appeared from around the corner. “Here we go Mr. Grace!” Avi called out as he helped William into the narrow corridor.

William turned to see Crow lean forward again and peer at the photo. His face looked lost in times past.

The two ships raced each other. The corvette speckled like a stream worn salmon followed by the brutish marauder with a flattened nose. There was no violence between the two at such distances. At this range rail projectiles could be dodged and missiles could be intercepted by the mass drivers.

The marauder worked closer knowing that the advantage was his.

Through the night William had crawled off of the bed and curled up into a ball. He never awoke, it was what his body was used to. The sleep brought no dreams, and for that he was thankful. They blinked while he slept.

William walked out of the quarters and into the hallway.

“Mr. Grace,” Avi saluted. He was now cleaned, though the grit seemed to hang in the creases around his eyes. “Mr. Villeneuve asked to see you in the cargo hold once you had eaten.”

“Thank you Avi. Have you eaten?”

Avi nodded. “I did, but I’ll gladly eat again. I’m not sure I’ll ever turn down a meal for the rest of my life Sir,” he responded with a smile.

William felt much the same way. Even once he had eaten, he had the urge to pirate away a bit of food just in case he couldn’t get to it later. It took a conscious mental effort to not stuff himself.

His mind stuck on the marauder barreling towards them. He couldn’t outrun it. He couldn’t beat it in a fight.

The bowl sat next to him on the table. His stub gently braced against it. He slurped down a mouthful of noodles and ran across all the simulations he’d ever been in. Nothing seemed to help. Though he was quite satisfied with the noodles.

He thought about that first day, that damned cold first day. He could have rolled over and let the cold slip into him. What made him, hell, what made them all carry on? Survival was simple enough, but he felt that it was something more. At any moment they would die. Is that where the courage came from? He didn’t know.

His father flashed through his mind. Is this how he felt? You win the day, fight to the end, and are dashed on the rocks of fate? The sound of the horses stampeding echoed through his mind. He paused, there were no horses on Farshore.

Crates and containers were opened, wedged, pried, and popped. A rough chalk marker on each door showed either a one, a zero, or a question mark. There were many zeros, a few question marks, and just a handful of ones.

Sebastien was surrounded by a sea of metallic spheres the size of a mans head. Each was stamped with the blue and white logo of the Quebecois mineral company DythCo. Contained within was a slug of precious rhenium.

William wasn’t sure if the spheres were laid out on purpose or if they had rolled out of a burst container. “Morning Sebastien.”

Sebastien raised a hand as he silently mouthed numbers. “Do you have any use for 47 spheres of Rhenium?”

“Sell them and retire on the beach?”

Sebastien nodded. “That thought crossed my mind too.” He walked to a container with a question mark. “This one has combat armor, enhanced suits. These guys were about to leave.”

“I’m not surprised.” William walked over and peeked his head into the crate. “Looks like fun.”

“They’re overrated,” Sebastien said.

“Anything else exciting?”

Sebastien shook his head. “No.”

A single sphere clanked against its partner and began a slow roll down the length of the cargohold. Like a cannonball of old it slid to one side and then the next before crashing into a container. An enormous divot buckled the side.

William turned and stood with Sebastien at his side. The pair watched in silence as the sphere rebounded and came to rest against a pile of strapping.

O’Toole stepped out from behind a container. “Ouch! Imagine if that hit your toe!”

William gave one of the spheres a gentle nudge. It was solid like it was bolted to the floor.

“What if you ran into one of these accelerating at 4g?” Sebastien asked.

“Time to put your beach vacation on hold Sebastien.”

The ship suddenly descended into a bad caricature of a bowling alley. Soldiers and Marines waddled through the length of the ship with the massively heavy rhenium containers. Sebastien was able to carry a pair, and could have handled more if grip wasn’t an issue.

Men ducked and dodged as they passed each other through the tight quarters. The pile grew until it became difficult to add more without them collapsing under the weight of the pile. Netting and boxes were wedged on the edges to keep them in place.

“Will the airlock open with all that weight?” Vito asked.

William peered at the pile. He felt guilty not being able to help, but carrying a sphere was rather difficult without two hands.

“It’ll open. It might not close, but it will open,” Tero said.

The service airlock on the rear of the corvette was smaller than the cargo airlocks. When they opened the door, if it opened, the spheres would pass out and remain on the same vector. With any luck the dense metal would impact on the marauder. He didn’t know if it would be enough energy to break the repulsors, but they had to do something.

The Hun marauder was rapidly closing. At 4Gs of acceleration they were traveling nearly 1% of the speed of light. If it could be slowed even a little they could make the next blink and then the efficiency would gain them even more distance.

Eduardo was the last man to thunk one of the spheres into a pile. His arms were knotted and strained as he gently squatted down and deposited the sphere. His arms almost seemed to glow with tattoos of fire and stone. His face was set and intense as he saluted and walked off.

The almost comical logo made it look like a pile of monogrammed volleyballs. A small crowd was crouched and tucked into the hallway eager to watch the payload get delivered.

“Mr. Tero, if you please,” William said as he beckoned to the spheres.

Tero smiled and nodded. “As a kid we’d do something similar.” He tapped the console and the inner door closed and sealed with a pop. “We’d suit up and tuck inside an airlock. Hit the override and pop the outer door.” The display showed the vacuum level rising as it was pumped in with a hum. “And then whoosh! You’d shoot out! In Mars gravity you could really get some distance.” With a final tap he activated the override and the outer door began to open.

All eyes watched as the mass strained for a split second. An audible unconscious “Ooooh” began as first one, then another, then all of the spheres were sucked out. It sounded like stamping hooves as the spheres smacked against the airlock door. Frost grew on the inner window as the moisture condensed.

“Whoops. I think we broke it,” Tero said as he tried to close the door.

Chuckles echoed from the crowd.

The spheres were now waiting in space, still moving forward, but at a much slower speed than the marauder. Far behind, the marauder continued charging forward at full acceleration.

“Noodles Mr. Grace?” Avi asked as he set down a plastic bowl.

William nodded and slid the bowl closer. The sweet tangy aroma tickled his nostrils. He’d been hungry, even though his stomach was full. Just feeling the texture of the noodles was luxurious. The first bite was his new simple pleasure.

“So uh, how much longer Mr. Grace?”

“Hmm?” William swallowed the noodles. “Till we blink?”

“Till they run into the cannonballs Sir.” His voice cracked slightly as he replied with a wistful smile.

William liked how they referred to them as cannonballs, the most precious cannonballs ever lobbed. “Another hour or so, and you know they probably won’t even hit them.”

Avi nodded and looked up at the screen behind him. “Can we see anything?”

William shook his head. “If they hit we’ll get a thermal signature, too far yet for visual.”

“So we just wait?”

“We just wait.”

Avi sat back and grinned. “This is driving me crazy, how can you naval types do it knowing that you can’t do anything for days or weeks! It’s crazy.” He quickly added, “No offense sir.”

“You can’t argue with physics Avi, so you just relax and save the adrenaline for later.”

The young Marine looked down to the floor. Behind him Leduc was poking at the display console. The screen flickered and showed movies that were popular 20 years before. Soldiers and Marines were scattered about the room eating or sleeping. Those awake seemed fidgety and tense. This was not the type of battle they were used to.

William sat in the cool air of the bridge and watched the visual display. The marauder was so far away that it was barely a wink of light, just another star. The marauder maintained the 4G acceleration. He went to rub his hands together and caught himself. The itching was coming back.

“Mr. Tero, how does it look?”

“Hmph. I can get a thermal off of it, but the resolution is pretty grainy.”

“Toss it up, better than staring at a number.”

The thermal image was overlaid onto the main display. A gray shape made out of choppy pixels hung in the center as if it wasn’t moving. A slight orange tint blurred the front edge.

“See the nose? The nanites are repairing it,” Tero said.

They were joined by Vito and then Crow. The room was silent except for the occasional click from the ventilation system.

“Can you mirror it in the galley?” William asked.

“Done,” Tero said with a tap of his fingers.

Williams eyes began to ache. He had to force himself to blink and watch. He wondered if they would see those little orbs of super-dense rhenium waiting for them. As far as the numbers showed the marauder pointed straight on for the corvette. They might, just might, plow into one.

William leaned over the console and browsed through the weapons stockpiles. They had enough railgun projectiles and mass driver pellets to last them long after the hull was gone.

“Do they know it’s there?” Crow asked.

“Maybe. They might not care, or maybe they know the position and are going to steer clear of them. The might not have long range scanners,” William replied with a shrug.

“This should be about it,” Tero said as his eyes looked upwards.

The marauder sat in the center of the display a blotchy gray form with an orange nose. Then something happened. A slice of white spread along the side of the marauder. The heat scale peaked.

Cheers went up through the room followed a second later by cheers echoing from the galley. The white scar dimmed slowly into an angry red and finally a light yellow before winking away to nothing. The acceleration was constant.

William held his breath. His left hand tickled. He rubbed the stub gently on his leg and waited. He strained his senses and willed another sphere to strike. The seconds winked by and nothing happened.

Everyone shifted on the bridge as if stretching from a crouch. The immediate excitement gave way to a subtle tension. They’d get a fight, and soon.

“We have 10 hours till we can blink. They’ll reach us in 9,” William paused and thought. “Get everyone rested, hand out emergency suits and seal up any unused areas. I’m going to sleep.” He stood and walked slowly out of the room. He felt a dim sense of failure but he chastened himself for expecting a miracle.

Sebastien knocked on the thin alloy plate door. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d decided to bring up the past. He disliked remembering, but felt he owed William a piece of his past.

The door opened.

William stood with tired eyes in a tired pose and waved him in with a bandaged stub. “Sebastien. C’mon in.” William stumbled across the room and slid a bench out from the wall. “Sit, I’m sure there’s something to drink in here.” He looked around poking into drawers and cabinets.

Sebastien sat. “Don’t worry about it, a stiff drink would knock me out.”

William nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked around him. “One hell of a ride.”

“It is, I don’t know my ships well, but Tero walks around like he’s in church.”

William smiled. “It’s old, or at least pieces of it are. Our ships aren’t ever this clean as when the K build them. The Gracelle though, they make works of art. I’ve never seen one though, only pics.”

A silence grew between the pair. The sort of silence that can only exist when two people are comfortable enough to not need to breach it with idle talk. The ship hummed quietly around them.

“How old are you William?”

“24. Why?” William leaned forward and rested his elbows on his hips.

“Four years old when you left Farshore, right?”

William nodded. “That’s right, twenty years ago. Why?”

Sebastien looked down to the floor before bringing his gaze back to William. “I was there.”

“It was a big deployment, I’ve met a few from the mission,” William replied.

“No, I mean I was there when it ended.”

William looked at Sebastien in silence. His eyes looked pained. “Go on.”

“Once they took out the Flagship we sent an assault team down to destroy the launcher.” Sebastien looked down at his feet. “They couldn’t let it stand that a little colony whooped us. The plan was to destroy the launcher, blast the elevator and dictate terms from orbit. It was a mistake trying to fight guerillas on the ground.”

“But they burned it from orbit…”

Sebastien shook his head. “The fleet blinked out and left us in low orbit. Farshore thought they won. We came into the mountains and stormed through. I believe your father was in command of the installation. They fought, oh did they fight.”

The room was still. William was locked in position with his eyes on Sebastien.

“Your father asked us to take you out with us. We we’re going to blow the whole place. He was shot through, you were in the complex…”

William shifted his feet and looked down to the floor.

“After we set the charges we left drones to keep anyone out. The launcher had a reactor tied into a magma pocket. We didn’t think it would erupt like it did.”

“The whole planet burned,” William whispered.

“We were up in orbit when we realized it. At first we thought it’d just be a normal eruption but it kept getting larger. We couldn’t evacuate anyone, the fleet already blew up the elevator.”

Sebastien hated those days. He’d been a Private then, a member of a heavy weapons team. The charges that blew the reactor were charges he carried. The guilt always burned at him, but he always carried on. Nothing more that could be done. “They said it was a ship mounted weapon, make it seem like secret weapon. They got back and the outrage led to the UC. You know the rest.”

William looked up slowly. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You deserve to know. You’re a good Officer. For me it was another mission, one that went wrong. I’ve carried this with me a long time.”

William stared at stump where his left hand was. “Will the pain ever go away?”

“No. It will always be there, that nagging feeling.” Sebastien stood and walked to the door.

“Thank you. I don’t remember much, but I’m glad you told me.”

Sebastien nodded and walked out into the white light.

William walked through the ship after pasting a fresh nanite patch onto his shoulder. The itching was so intense that it had waken him up. The nanite patches on the corvette didn’t last as long as the UC issue patches.

After speaking with Sebastien he felt a deep sadness, but a deep respect as well. He didn’t blame him, how could he. He awoke a new man, a man with a tie to his past. A man who would do those proud who came before him.

The bulkheads throughout the ship were sealed tight. Only the main passageway was open. The flimsy emergency suits were laid out on the tables of the galley like over sized paper cutouts.

The Haydn Drive was tucked into its armored cocoon, humming gently. He ran his hand over the textured exterior and wondered how old it was. What had it seen on so many a starry field?

William walked onto the bridge and saw Eduardo kneeling at the side of the room. His arms were bare, a wooden beaded rosary hung from his fingers. The tattoos were subtle, shifting, smoky.

Eduardo stopped his prayer and stood up slowly and unashamed. He retreated to a console and sat in silence. His face was smooth and serene with a slight smile. “Good Morning.”

“Good morning indeed,” William said as he scanned the console. The Hun marauder was decelerating hard. When they came into range they’d still be at a higher velocity, but not so fast that they couldn’t pummel the corvette. He keyed the comm link. “In about 30 minutes we engage. Grab a bite to eat and just relax.”

Tero and Xan walked onto the bridge silently and sat at the consoles. Von Hess limped in later and sat quietly with the carbon leads on his chest. Sebastien entered last and dropped a heap of the emergency suits in the corner of the room. He stood beside the heap and nodded to William.

The marauder wore a rough nose that had the look of dimpled sand.

“Here they come,” mumbled Tero.

“Von Hess, if you please,” William said without taking his eyes off the display.

Von Hess scooted himself deeper into the cradle and attached the leads to his temples. The view rotated slightly as he danced the corvette about.

The marauders railguns swung out and opened fire. The repulsor fields winked and shuddered with each and every impact. Von Hess dodged and shifted and avoid many of the impacts. The railguns fired for fifteen minutes before the missiles launched.

The floor shuddered as the mass drivers pulsed out round after round to try and shatter the missiles. They did well, but not well enough. The display was filled with incandescent flashes as nickel slugs collided with the incoming barrage.

The missiles exploded upon the field and redlined the repulsors. A split second later one of the railguns landed a glancing blow onto the armor. The heat generated caused alarms to appear on the edges of the display.

The corvette rotated slowly and the fresher side of the field faced the enemy. Alarms dropped away as the nanites swarmed the damaged armor and worked to mend the seam.

William felt relief that the first wave was intercepted but as the marauder came closer more missiles would strike. The mass driver would have less time. Worst of all the railguns would eventually strike them in a broadside. He glanced at Von Hess. “Dodge as best you can, but keep us moving towards the blink point.”

Von Hess smiled and nodded. The ship continued to roll and pulse on all axis’s.

William waited to fire. He had the advantage of picking his shots while they would be forced to pass by. He checked his program and laid it into place. “We’re going to fire in about 30 seconds. They’ll respond before we can fire again. I need us as close to them as possible.”

The tactical display laid out the planned course and Von Hess agreed with a grunt.

“Nanites are working, but we’re down 25% on that section. The repulsors are going to, uh, overload on the next barrage,” Tero said.

William nodded. They needed to survive one more blast, one more good hit and they could at least leave them with some scars. He felt strangely liberated as he watched the program activate.

The pellets strafed along the hull of the marauder in green flashes. A moment later the railguns opened up with a pair of rounds that sizzled against the marauder. The mass driver slowed and paused. Both weapons needed to cool.

William turned and nodded to Sebastien. “Close the bulkhead please Mr. Villeneuve.”

The bulkhead slid shut and the pressure rose just slightly. The room felt warmer, tighter, as they awaited the next barrage.

The mouth of the railguns glowed on the display with the rounds landing a moment later. Alarms flared. The missiles were inbound in a sea of glowing flame. The mass drivers shuddered and sent more nickel downstream but there wasn’t enough time.

The ship was rolling as the missiles struck but it wasn’t enough. The blasts punched through the already weakened fields. Expanding fields of shrapnel and plasma etched at the nickel armor dissolving and punching through the outer layers before creeping inwards.

It’s easy to think of a starship as a great hulking animal, but in all realities it is a fragile and subtle creature. Once you let the vacuum in it begins to fail. Systems throughout the ship winked alarms as the power was routed around the breach.

William watched the display scroll through the disabled systems. Every single one was critical. There was no such thing as a non-essential piece of equipment. The most critical systems blinked loudly on the display. Half the ship was without any power and the grav drive was running at reduced capacity. The mass driver showed as a gray line. Unknown.

“Tero?” William asked.

“I see it. I don’t know, it has power, but wait. Yes, shit. It’s jammed, the tracking servo,” Tero slammed on the console.

William felt his face flush. They had one chance, one lucky chance. If they could stop even a few of the inbound missiles they might blink out. Without the mass driver they’d be torn apart. He knew if he had a full compliment of engineers they could EVA and clear it.

“I don’t know if I can spread the next blow onto both fields,” Von Hess said in a low tone. Perspiration sparkled on his forehead.

The air shifted on the bridge.

William turned and saw Sebastien running out with one of the emergency suits under his arm.

“You’ll have to direct me,” Sebastien clicked through. “I don’t know the way.”

Tero looked to William.

William’s heart dropped. The augment would be outside when the Hun marauder began the next barrage. The corvette might survive one more blast, but no one outside would. Without the mass drivers they would all die. “Mr. Tero, guide him out please,” he ordered.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Redemption

The display slowly ticked down until the marauder could fire again. The two ships moved forward towards the falling edge of the crest.

William listened with dread and guilt as Tero walked Sebastien through the narrow confines of the ship to an airlock that was yet functioning. His eyes darted from the countdown to the weapon status.

“Once you’re out, there will be a guidewire. Snap onto it and follow it forward. You should see the mass driver,” Tero said as calmly as he could manage.

Ragged breathing came through the comms. “Got it. I see the guide, moving now.”

The corvette was almost parallel with the marauder. The pair would slide by in a few more moments. The next barrage would smash into the corvette just slightly behind it. The repulsors were still maxed out while the nanite repair systems flashed error. The corvette was seriously wounded, but not yet dead.

“Oh wow,” Sebastien said.

“He must have came over the curve,” Tero said.

“It uh, there’s a big hole. I need to unclip.”

William felt the hair on the back of his neck tingle. He hated working in zero-g. He hated doing it without a tether even more. A blackness washed over him as he truly realized that Sebastien would be dead in under a minute.

A heaving and grunting sound came over the comms. “Oof, she’s stuck.”

“Sensor banks are dead for most of the ship, we’re blind, we have to keep that side facing him or we can’t respond.” Xan said.

William ran his hand through his hair. One more volley. Would it even matter if they couldn’t stop it?

The corvette rocked as the Hun railguns opened fire once more. Error messages and warnings flashed onto the display faster than they could be read.

“They launched!” Tero yelled.

The marauder blossomed into a halo of flame as the missiles approached. Each burned at high velocity towards the corvette.

An animal roar bellowed through the comms. Sebastien. The display for the mass driver winked a bright green and it fired.

William engaged the weapons control and everything fired.

The Hun marauder was slightly past the ideal point when the railgun burst out a single round. It flew across the narrow gap and pulsed against the repulsor field. Every generator on the Hun marauder fought and strained but couldn’t maintain the field against a single point with that much force. It blinked white for a moment and buried itself into the hull of the marauder.

The wound gushed atmosphere. The edges of the hole burned with nanite fire. The round had punched deep into the marauder and delivered a wicked blow. Had it been followed by a half dozen more the marauder would have been destroyed, but one wasn’t enough.

William stood and laid his hand on the console. He took a deep breath and watched the impact timer hit zero. The mass driver didn’t have enough time to knock out many of the missiles.

His friend was stuck outside and had nowhere to go. He turned to look at those around him and saw all eyes on him. It was his command, his loss, his failure. He wanted to call out and warn him but he knew that Sebastien had a better view than anyone. His last connection to his past would be dead in moments.

Alarms flared. The entire corvette shuddered as the missiles burned through the and remaining repulsor fields and burst upon what was left of the armor. Atmosphere vented. The ship suddenly found itself in zero-gravity as the internal generators were destroyed. They now simply drifted.

Systems turned gray. William could tell that whatever they did now would not matter. He looked down at his hand and steadied himself in the absence of gravity. He was surprised that he didn’t feel more, nothing but a slight sense of regret.

“If you can hear this get into your suits, they might come for survivors,” William clicked through the comms. He hoped it would make it to anyone who was alive. He steered himself slowly down onto the chair and clipped himself in.

“Get up!” Eduardo howled. His arms burned in a shimmering fire of nanite rage.

William turned away and watched the screen. He failed his friends. He failed his duty. The ship was lost and he’d go with it.

Eduardo crashed into the wall next to him a suit clutched to his chest. “Hey, hey! Wake up!”

William blocked out the sounds around him and tried to picture his father. The caverns, the toy horses, the day he left. Sebastien and the other Marines leading him from Armageddon.

Eduardo slapped him full on. The blow spun Eduardo back into the wall. “Enter the codes! They’re here!”

William blinked and snapped his head up. The Hun marauder glittered as projectiles impacted the hull. Atmosphere blew out from multiple points as converging fire gutted it. He focused and realized everyone was yelling. The corvette wasn’t firing.

“We need fleet codes and now! Codes!” Xan shouted as he hovered over the console.

William unclipped himself and pushed off with his feet. He caught the edge of the comms console and punched in his personnel code. The fleet? Here? He couldn’t believe it. “Everyone hole up! We’ve got friendlies inbound!”

The display flashed an acceptance code and continued to scroll alarms and error codes. The ship was shattered and broken, coasting through space totally blind to where the fleet was.

“They’re talking,” Xan said.

“-orvette please identify yourself and confirm ID code. Corvette please identify yourself and confirm ID code. This is the United Colonies Ship Yosemite.” The message continued.

William pushed the respond button highlighted on the slab. “Yosemite this is Midshipman William Grace, formerly of the Lawrence.”

“Lawrence?” The voice asked surprised. There was a pause. “We’re sending over a tender.”

The voices of the survivors burst over his comms and crashed in his ears. He could hear all of the voices cheering and hooting.

All of the voices except Sebastien.

They sat in the galley of the Yosemite and felt like animals in the zoo. Men found excuses to pass through to congratulate, celebrate, to see the impossible. No one survived a starship crash.

The Marines and Soldiers sat near to each other and looked proudly upon Grace. They retold the tales of the ice fields, the boat, the assault, everything. The chubby faced Commander and the bald Lieutenant listened and took notes stunned by what they heard. A tub of ice cream melted in the center of the table untouched.

William stared down at his freshly bound left hand. They told him they couldn’t do anything until he was back on a major colony or Earth. Marines in white uniforms came for him at the Admirals command.

“Sir, Midshipman Grace reporting. Sir,” William snapped to attention and felt terribly tired. He couldn’t quite find the proper spot for a missing hand on his coveralls.

“At ease Mr. Grace, sit.” The Admiral said as he beckoned with clean hands. He took a set of tumblers from his desk and poured a smoky brown liquid into them. The Admiral handed a glass over with a nod.

William took the offered glass and held it in his hand.

“Young man, you have done an amazing thing.” The Admiral raised his glass and took a stiff drink.

William nodded and took a sip. The slippery liquid burned as it rolled down his throat. Scotch. He told the Admiral what he had told the Lieutenant and what he had told the Commander.

The Admiral listened and sipped his scotch. “You’ll be heading back to Earth on the Lisbon in a few hours. You just fought the first battle of this war Mr. Grace.”

William nodded and took a drink. It hadn’t felt like a battle. It simply felt like survival. Nothing felt like what he thought it would.

“Mark my words, mark them well. None of this is going to end well. Worlds are going to fall. We need good officers, men who know how to lead.” The Admiral looked William in the eye and held his gaze. “It ain’t gonna end well.”

William agreed and finished his drink. It was like ash in his mouth.

I’d love to hear any feedback you may have. If you enjoyed the story tell your friends, leave a review, and help spread the word.

You can find more about the author at http://caseycalouette.com or follow him on Twitter @titaniumtrout.

Cover image by PFC Kasey Peacock USMC, DVIDSHUB. Creative Commons Attribution.

Copyright 2013 Casey Calouette

All Rights Reserved