Tad Johanson was scared. He was too scared to breath, too scared to sit still, so he fidgeted. He fumbled his pen, picked it up and began tapping it on the yellow legal note pad he had brought on idle thought he might need to doodle. He shifted in his chair, often scraping it across the gray tile just enough to let out a screech and then began the whole cycle once more.
Why did a half hour wait in the reception room followed by a meeting with a doctor in the Global Military Police always make one feel like gnawing his own leg off just to end the suspense? Simple, they run the whole ball of wax; from the chow that we eat to the aliens we kill, the G.M.P. is always behind the scenes, making lists and checking them twice to see who's been naughty or nice.
Relax, with thoughts like that one, they will see that my "cowardice" is just a front for paranoid fear of the GMP and have to lock me up in a nice safe loony bin for purposes of "Global Security". More likely, it would be a cell in Monument City or hard labor down in the Brazilias. No, thought Tad, the G.M.P. will never rule that I am crazy; they would much rather put me in a body bag than giving me the satisfaction of putting me in a straight jacket.
Where the hell is Doc Farre?
The medic had finally convinced Tad to request relief by pointing out that Tad would probably die in the next battle, taking most of the company with him. The medic had bluntly reminded Tad that he had been rendered "combat ineffective" on both trips through the training range the previous week. He didn't have to add that Tad been in a catatonic funk for the rest of the week and would have died on the range if the bioroids had been anything more than computer simulations.
Pride overwhelmed, Tad finally had to admit that he had reached the end of his endurance. No one admitted such weaknesses in the "old" Army of the Southern Cross. Beforethe war, Tad never thought he could ever suffer from the shameful state of "battle fatigue." But the one solid piece of Tad's soul that was left knew he would damn himself to the worst hell if his fatigue and fear caused any of his soldiers to die. When the doc offered up that evil phrase, Tad was finally ready to embrace it.
The orderly looked up from his comic book as if listening to something in the air and then turned to Tad and said, "The Colonel will see you now, ..." and then, a beat late, added, "Sir."
Shit, Farre got me into this and now he bails!!
Tad failed to notice the enlisted M.P.'s insolence. Like most other officers, he took it for granted that the Military Police, whose closest view of a bioroid was in a transvid, considered themselves to be the most important branch of the Southern Cross Army. Considering that the civilians in the government tended to remain in power at the behest of the G.M.P., they probably did call most of the shots.
Tad's only interest was in the colonel/doctor sitting behind the desk in the small office he walked into. The man was old enough to have been a part of the RDF before it left Earth. He styled the military burr that many old soldiers seemed to wear these days. That the explanation for the delay was less than nefarious was demonstrated by the fact that the Doctor still wore his stained scrubs and medical scanner headset.
Tad's hopes died with the colonel's first words.
"Look son, I got your medic's report and ordinarily I would agree with him that you need a break. But considering the way things are going, your request for relief is denied."
"What do you mean, denied? Did you even read the report? Don't you see that I can't even get into my tank without ... remembering ..."
The colonel gave Tad a hard, somewhat appraising look. Some strange piece of Tad's mind noted that the man looked enormously tired, not much further from burnout than the captain was.
"Youngster, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you aren't some yellow bellied, gold bricker who should be shot. I will pretend you asked how we might prevent your "problem" from getting some of the soldiers in your company killed."
"The answer to your 'unvoiced' question is that you will get some time in another theater. You are more dangerous to your company than ten enemy drop ships. My thought is, rather than have you add to the kill ratio in the enemy's favor, I can get you a company of tanks down at Emery base.
Seeing Tad's mouth open for more objections, the colonel added in a dead voice, "The alternative is a company of Civil Guard here in Monument. Whichever, is your choice."
Tad knew that was no choice. The Civil Guard was made up of civilians who were given a uniform, a laser rifle and told to go snipe at the bioroids when they attacked. Few served in more than one battle.
"Damn it, sir, I don't know if I can keep going into battle! Every time I take some people out with me, most of them don't come back. How am I supposed to fight, let alone lead?"
"Look Captain, the Alpha Tactical Armored Corps can't spare even the walking wounded. You are just going to have to solve this 'problem' while commanding a company. Emery has been a quiet station since the war began. It's the best I can do."
When Tad began to protest once more, the colonel's face turned savage . "You dumb shit. Don't you think every soldier I see come through here should be relieved? All of them have seen as much blood and death as you have. This is the best I can or will do for you. There are too many others who deserve this who have to stay."
After a moment's pause while he collected his temper, the Colonel continued in a conversational tone, "I will hear no more discussion about this matter, captain. My orders are final."
With that dismissal, Tad stood and saluted, which wasn't returned, then marched smartly out.
***
He had nearly packed the uniforms and books he wanted with him when the company first sargent knocked on the open door to Tad's quarters and entered. Tad continued to sort through his books piling the novels and poetry in the duffel to go to Emerey Base and throwing the military manuals and tech magazines into boxes for storage here in Monument.
"We just got the news, Sir ..."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, Bigs. I hope things work out better with your new Captain."
"What, you? ... Oh, you mean you're leaving? Shit, I ain't been here more than two weeks and already they got you moving on to bigger and better things. Well Good luck Captain. I sure know we're going to need it."
"Oh, you'll do fine Bigs. There are plenty of good men in this unit."
"Fewer by the day, sir, fewer by the day. We just lost the Doc and two troopers. They were out trying to recover some downed cloud climber. Don't know why we have to always do the search and rescue for those clowns."
Tad didn't hear the sargent say, "I better go see about rounding up another medic and a new medical hover truck. Always too damn much paper work when someone gets killed like that. I'll see you later Captain."
While Tad struggled to finish packing, visions of Bioroids strafing a medical van kept threatening to overwhelm him.
***
Arrival at Emery base was both thrilling and frightening for Tad. The base sat in the bowel of one of the massive craters that littered the New Mexican desert. The undisturbed land was covered with tall grass and scrub to the crater rim, with a few small pine trees mixed in. Thrilling for Tad was the fact that the crater wasn't filled with the brown haze of dust and smoke that had become an ever present reminder of battle in Monument city.
The fear was always present but worse when he looked at hover tanks, especially battle scared ones. Tad's was new, .fortunately
On the surface of the crater, the base consisted mostly of several runways, a couple hangers, some launch facilities, and a maze of roadways leading to an enormous number of underground entrances. Most of the base was well below the surface.
Tad unstrapped his tank from its tie downs on the vehicle ramp of the shuttle and climbed up its side to begin the power up sequence. His gear was in the luggage hold and wouldn't be available for half an hour if Murphy's law was running true to form. Plenty of time to blow some cob webs out. He moved the tank out of the shuttle into the afternoon sun.
"VHT-00U, unassignedto Emery Base control requesting clearance for a speed run," Tad asked.
"I don't have you on the board, VHT-00U. What is the purpose of your request."
Tad almost laughed at the controller's confusion. 00U was the standard call sign for maintenance taking a unit out for a brief test. Rarelyor never were these run scheduled. They must be hurting if newbies like that were pulling radio watch.
"VHT-00U to Emery Base, I've got a new tank that just came in on the shuttle. I'm trying to make sure the techs got all the styrofoam out of the thrusters before I take it into battle."
"Uh, VHT-00U, we still don't have you on the board ..."
"Emery Base, that is why I'm using the VHT-00U call sign. Could you get off your butt and find someone to give me clearance?"
"Yes, Sir!! Take road 6 alpha left. You are cleared for five kilometers, that is five klicks. Report when done."
The Veritech Hover Tank surged to life under Tad's hands. Thrusters kicked up a bit of dust from the battered plasticrete as he pulled away from the runway onto road 6 alpha. Acceleration forces tugged at Tad's neck and shoulders, pressing him more firmly into his seat. The squat package of the tank was traveling at one hundred fifty kilometers per hour within "three blinks of an eye" as an old instructor once said. Thirty fivetons of supple and agile force flowed at the mere touch of Tad's hands on the control stick.
For a moment he was exhilarated by the speed, reveling in the life he felt in his tank, the life that seemed missing from his soul. He could drive forever in this tank and nothing could touch him. His weapon was powerful, alive.
Unfortunately, it usually wasn't enough.
The hover tanks had cannon and powerful weapons of all sorts, electronics, radar, and sophisticated communications gear. In a stand up fight, the tanks could easily dispatch the alien bioroids. Tad had never been in a stand up fight in this war. The aliens tended to gang up on exposed hover tanks, taking shots until they got lucky and waxed the pilot or breached the fusion core. Tad was convinced that speed, both of the tank and her commander, were the difference between a burning inferno and a beer in club after a battle.
The tank was new and all systems were green. One out of two can't be that bad, thought Tad, as he slowed his tank and requested directions to his company motor pool.
***
There was no change of command ceremony or anything that Tad needed to do once he had reported to the commander of the Thirteenth A.T.A.C.s, a slim lieutenant Colonel, named Harris. When Tad stepped into his office and announced himself, the colonel had looked up. For a moment he just stared.
"What did you do to get sent out here, captain?"
"Nothing, sir. I was told to report to Emery base."
"You're from Monument, aren't you? The Fifteenth, right?"
"No, sir. I mean, yes sir. I am coming in from Monument city, but I was part of the Sixteenth A.T.A.C.s."
"Doesn't matter, all of the Monument units are seeing some heavy fighting. So, my first question still stands. Why are you, an obviously experienced company commander, sent out here to the boonies, while one of my very green lieutenants is promoted and sent into the middle of one of the worst battles ever fought on this planet?"
"I can't say, sir," Tad answered, truthfully. Tad couldn't really believe that the G.M.P. colonel had sent him to Emery base for his health.
"Well, it doesn't matter, I guess. It will be nice to have a veteran around to knock these kids into shape. They just don't seem to take this war seriously. We have had a few air raids, mostly just tore a few holes in the runways and wasted quite a bit of ammunition, but there just hasn't been any lasting impact on the recruits. I don't suppose you have had to deal with that in Monument City, have you?"
"No colonel. Most everybody I know in Monument takes the war very seriously."
"You see what I mean, captain. Out here we aren't even really participating in the war effort. How can my people ever learn how to fight if we never get the chance? They need to be tested, blooded even. I'm afraid that won't happen, though. Can you believe that I have only lost three men since the war began, captain? And those were only training accidents. We are fighting a war for God's sake. Don't you agree?"
"Yes, colonel."
A sour taste was forming in the back of Tad's throat. It was as if he had bitten into an apple that appeared perfect on the outside only to find it rotten and maggot ridden after he bit into it.
"Perhaps that is all about the change, though. Some information I have gotten from command, and your appearance here confirms this, suggest that our little dry spell is about to end. Oh, don't say a word. I understand operational security and all that. Yes, captain, I don't think we will have to wait very long for some excitement to begin around here."
Colonel Harris studied Tad's face for a moment, then said, "Monument has had a spot of trouble lately, and you have been in the thick of it. I'm pleased to have you here, Tad. May I call you Tad?"
Itching to leave the colonel's office, Tad jumped out of his chair when Harris rose to wish him luck and shake his hand.
As Tad stepped through his office door, Harris said with a smile, "You must come around again, captain. There is no one else in the battalion who has been there, like you and I. We must compare notes, us old veterans."
***
Ingrid Johanson had raised her son without the benefit of a husband or even any sort of father figure. Tad claimed to all his friends that he never missed not having a father in his life. He was perfectly normal, or at least he used to claim that. But Tad had always wondered what his real father was like. With what little his mother had told him, Tad had constructed an image that was surprisingly similar to Simon Lehie, Alpha company's first sargent.
Lehie seemed to be a kind man. He cared for the recruits and almost everyone else in the company. As far a Tad could tell, the sargent was serious when he insisted that he wanted his company to be the best trained and the best led in the Southern Cross Army. But Lehie was an alch addict and was not able to do his job consistently. When Lehie got drunk, he tended to hide out. The end result was that company business was conducted without Lehie's supervision, and so was conducted, if it happened at all, because the other non-coms in the company covered for him.
When Tad first arrived, he had wanted to turn the sargent over to the G.M.P. but had quickly discovered that most of the recruits, non-coms, and even the officers were in love with Lehie. Each man Tad met had some story to tell about an amazing feat or stunt the sargent had done. Supposedly, the man was a wizard in a hover tank. Perhaps, said many of the men in hushed tones, of the same quality of the famous Max Sterling. Somehow the company had become convinced that this drunk was the best thing that ever happened to it.
In truth there was nothing remarkable about Alpha company, which in itself was surprising. How could a company in which most its members effort was expended in keeping one drunk sargent out of trouble, be as good as it was? Tad couldn't find an answer to this question so he finally just gave up and accepted the status quo. For the most part, things got done, and the recruits were as ready as any virgin soldiers could be.
Keeping mostly to himself, Tad spent his nights reading and his days watching the company run through drill after drill. Having no desire to get to know the officers and men of the company, he tried to deal with problems as they came up in the field. There were few times when even that amount of communication was necessary because the platoon sargents and their lieutenants knew the drill schedule backwards and forwards. Once Tad had ordered his company executive officer, Lieutenant Larry Geordan, to handle the paperwork for the company, he really had little to do each day. Aside from riding out to the practice range on a hover cycle to check on the drills, Tad usually just sat in his quarters and read.
Larry dropped by his apartment one afternoon; insisting that he had to talk to Tad, Larry plopped down on Tad's standard issue couch. Waiting until Tad had settled himself in a chair at the end of the small table, Larry asked, "How are you feeling, sir?"
"Fine, lieutenant."
"I hope you are pleased with the company. I know that we're not as good as the units in Monument but we'll get there."
"You boys are doing fine." Tad began to feel uneasy. He hadn't exchanged more than pleasantries and work related information with Larry.
"I ... I'm sorry that we're not as exciting as the battle of Monument City."
"Don't apologize. I like it this way."
"Did you see much combat, sir?"
"A bit. What is all this leading up to, Larry?"
Flushing, Larry looked down at his feet and asked, "Sir, permission to speak freely?"
His face becoming even more set, knowing what was coming, Tad said, "Sure. Whatever you say here won't go anywhere else, unless the G.M.P. is listening."
Ignoring Tad's attempt at humor, Larry asked, "Why are you here?"
"I was assigned here, lieutenant."
"But why are you here if you aren't going to lead the company?"
Trying to feel angry rather than guilty, Tad said, "Make your point."
"Ever since you got here, I have been running the company and, if you will pardon me, sir, you have been sitting on your ass doing nothing."
Mildly, like the lead in some transvid of a war movie, "Harris hasn't complained."
Angrier now, Larry leaned forward across the table, "That's because of me and the rest of the company. Harris doesn't give a damn about the company so long as it passes all the drills he assigns."
"So, what do you care if I don't do anything? You get a chance to play company commander and I will take all the shit if you screw up. If the work is too much, I'll request you be assigned another assistant."
Surprised at Tad's candor, the lieutenant's face changed from shock to an even deeper anger, "I was doing most of the paperwork for your predecessor, sir. That is not a problem! It was part of the arrangement we had. He spent most of his time with the men and I did the reports. You aren't doing anything and the rest of the company is suffering for it. They need a leader but all they have is you."
Suddenly, unexpected anger welled up from a deep hidden hole his Tad's heart. Louder than he had intended, Tad said, "What the Hell do you know about leadership? Have you held your platoon sargent in you lap while he bleeds to death? Did you ever lose half of your company to the damned bioroids in about ten minutes because some shit head back at the base forgot to tell you that there were ten assault carriers inbound, rather than two? Do you know what it feels like to have your body armor cooked off? I do. Don't give me your shit about being a leader. I've done that too!"
Taken aback by this outburst, Larry stood and was about to speak when he Tad cut him off. Coming to his feet as well, he said, "I'm not done Lieutenant. When every member of this company is doing his duty, I will be the first to get out front. But until all of you are pulling all of your weight, I can't do anything with you."
Puzzled by this last comment, Larry asked, "What trooper is slacking off?"
With an almost, malicious glee, Tad said, "Does company have a drunk for a first sargent or is that just some waste lander who wondered in and found a home?"
Anger mixed with contempt on Larry's face while he paused for a moment as if trying to think of the best way to remove a pile of feces without touching it. "You have no business even thinking about that man. He is more of a leader than you will ever be. This company is operating as well as it does, only because of him. The man has a problem but he has earned the right to wallow in it."
"I think this conference is at an end, Lieutenant."
"No, Captain Johanson, I'm not done yet. I hope that you aren't thinking of turning sargent Lehie over to the G.M.P. because I would be forced to tell Colonel Harris that your tank hasn't been moved except by its maintenance crew since you arrived here. I might also mention that you have failed to fulfill your personal training tests for you entire stay on this base."
"Get out!"
Staring at Tad's right shoulder, Larry snapped off an angry but perfect salute and walked out of the apartment.
Tad was happier that he had been in quite some time. His anger at his "impertinent" executive officer so completely dominated his mind that the fear was pushed into a dark corner of his mind, along with the guilt and despair.
Clearly, something had to be done about Lehie. If nothing else, Larry was making him into a test of wills with Tad. It was time to start collecting evidence against the top sargent, to catch him in the act, perhaps. Tad would have to start giving more of his attention to the company. He should probably even try to take Geordan's personal fitness tests. Tad knew he could do that. He might even take the tank out for a spin around the base.
In fact, what better way to kill two birds with one stone than to order Lehie to take the tests with him right now. Surely he would be so stoned that he would fail while Tad could show that he was taking a serious interest in the efficiency of the company. After digging through his closet to find his weapon, Tad was suddenly marching down the hall toward Lehie's quarters. Before he could reconsider his plan, Lehie was blearily opening his door and asking Tad what he wanted.
"Get your gear, Lehie, we're going to do some target practice."
"Right now, sir?" Lehie almost slurred.
Working hard to conceal his glee as he smelled the alch fumes pouring out of Lehie's room, Tad growled, "You not feeling well, sargent?"
After pausing a moment to focus on Tad's face, the sargent said, "I'm OK, sir. I was just starting my dinner."
Tad considered for a moment whether he was actually ready to carry through with his plan. Did he really want to ruin Lehie? He then thought of Geordan's impertinent face and reminded himself that Lehie was a danger to the company. Hell, this was war and Lehie could be shot for being drunk on duty. It had to be done.
"Get your gear, sargent. This shouldn't take to long." Tad smiled, trying to make the situation less of a command performance by adding, "Besides, its long past time for both of us to do this test."
The firing range was actually a sophisticated hologram projector. The room was relatively large but dimly lighted when Tad and Lehie entered. The tech in the control booth looked up from his console in surprise when he noticed that someone had entered the testing room. Clearly he wouldn't be able to keep the date he had made with a private in the base motor pool.
A bit miffed, the tech spoke over the microphone, "I don't have you on my roster gentlemen. Would you mind coming back tomorrow?"
"Don't worry, son. The sargent and I are quite familiar with the range. Just reset it for us and you can go, ..." turning to Lehie, Tad added, "if that is fine with you?"
"Sure Capitan, whatever you want," the sargent answered warily.
Great, thought the tech, just great, as he left the control room. If I leave them hear and don't vouch that they didn't break the rules I will probably be used as a grease rag. But if sargent Wilson finds out I will be busted down to potato peeler last class.
After removing the energy cells from their Panther laser pistols and replacing them with the test cells that would allow the pistol to simulate its fire without doing any real damage, Tad faced the sargent, suddenly curious, and asked, "Are you as good as they say?"
Without waiting for and answer, Lehie hit the timer button and room darkened until they could each see noting except for the red numerals glowing form the wall, counting down from ten. When the count reached five, a line of target panels with blue and white bulls eyes, materialized at eye level, forming a complete circle around the two men who were now standing back to back. At the count of three, the circle began to rotate, accelerating with each final number. At last when the count reached zero, the numerals disappeared and the targets' circular formation shattered.
Tad decided to let the sargent make the first shot and tried began a breathing exercise he normally used to enter the alpha mental state required to control his hover tank. Emotion drained from his consciousness, fear disappeared, and now he was waiting only for the sargent to fire and then he would destroy the targets. Already they were beginning to swirl around the two soldiers like bioroids who had surrounded a wounded tanker.
Tad was startled when he heard the sargent's pistol fire, so mesmerized by the target panels menacing movements he had been. Now calming his breathing once more, Tad led a panel that was proceeding across his front and fired twice but jerked out of his last shot as a panel flew by just centimeters above his scalp. Lehie was still firing even single shots. Once more Tad tried to calm himself and reach for that inner peace and calmness he hadn't felt since his last battle in Monument City.
Already, there were fewer panels in the arena but as each one was destroyed, the others seemed to become smarter. Now they were dodging and diving in at each man as he prepared to fire. Tad swore that one panel seemed to sacrifice itself to knock his aim away from two others he was leading. Tad placed another shot dead in the center of a panel that had been charging and retreating from him and then realized that the simulated battle was over.
Lehie had destroyed most of the panels with single shots. Only five out of thirty were dispatched by Tad's pistol and three of those had taken double shots. Tad looked from the simulator's report to see a pleased smile on Lehie's face. Suddenly angry, Tad muttered, "I guess that answers my question."
Then louder, "O.K. Lehie. Lets see if you can repeat this."
Lehie's face was expressionless as he nodded.
This time Tad didn't even try to calm himself. He ignored Lehie's presence, adamant that he would beat the sargent to the first shot. Anger would steady his shots, Tad was sure.
As the second count down began, the room wobbled from side to side and the sound of the Lehie's measured breath faded into silence. Tad's vision blurred and then darkened for a moment. Momentarily, as a memory of his last battle in Monument City rushed at him like a speeding hover truck, Tad fought to remain in the present, to stay in the simulator with Lehie. Despite making a small cry as he fell, Tad was already engulfed in his own memories, by the time he hit the ground. The sargent was stunned when he turned and found the new captain curled up on the floor behind him. After the few moments it took to make a hurried examination of the officer, a small, sad smile crossed Lehie's face. Without using much effort, Lehie lifted the captain over his shoulder in a fire-man's carry and trudged to the base's hospital.
***
Tad broke out of his momentary daze, when his tank bumped against the ground and settled on its thrusters. Have to watch out for sleeping on the job, he thought wryly to himself. I might just run over a bioroid trying to cross the street or something.
The city slid past his eyes without really registering. In fact, Tad was actually paying more attention to the radar report that was being displayed on a panel just above his right knee. The panel was slaved to the the tracking station at the base. There were ten blips on the screen and a series of small numbers beside each one that indicated the number of bioroids that had already been deployed. Tad ignored the banter on the company freak as he watched a squadron of Corsairs charge up at the assault carriers. They were obviously outnumbered but were "doing their duty" anyway.
First, the Corsairs launched their missiles as they smashed through the alien's formation. A little cloud of dots, each of which represented a bioroid, boiled away of the carriers to chase the humans. Some disappeared as they were caught by the missiles. Others bucked and weaved their way through the rat's nest of contrails to attack the Corsairs before they could come up behind the carriers. Two of the Corsairs disappeared immediately. Tad looked up just in time to catch sight of the dark smudges that were the remains of the exploding aircraft. Once again, the Corsairs drove in on the carriers, but their prey wasn't helpless. Three more were killed before the rest of the squadron pulled off to engage in individual dog fights with the bioroids.
Meanwhile, all ten carriers had continued to descend with their deadly cargo. Once more, human fighters charged at the descending aliens. This time it was two squadrons of Phantom fighters, escorting a squad of Specters with their heavy anti aircraft missiles. Tad watched as once more the some of the bioroids were destroyed but the humans were either drawn off into dog fights or killed themselves. Four pairs of the small Specter jets penetrated the bioroid screen and launched their missiles before they were destroyed by the assault carriers inboard guns, though. Two of the carriers were destroyed outright, and two others began to retreat back up into orbit.
"That leaves at least three for us and possibly all six of the remainder," Tad thought as he began to issue instructions to his command, "Company halt. Sargent Richards get your people into some cover. First and Second platoon in transport mode. The rest go to Guardian. Don't fire until I give the command. We are in an inhabited section so level one engagement restrictions apply. Move!"
Tad settled his tank thirty meters behind the intersection that he had taken as his front line. Looking around, he realized that this part of Monument was more given over to industry, in particular chemical storage and production, than to residences but Level one restrictions did seem appropriate considering the toxic consequences of a stray plasma round. Nestling his tank in beside a warehouse and putting its thrusters and weapons systems on immediate standby, Tad returned to the radar screen.
Now there were only three carriers in the current attack and they were being harried by several squads of what Tad identified as Logans from the IFF symbol displayed next to each blip. Just as the aliens reached forty klicks outside of the city, the numbers of bioroids accompanying each one shot up. The aliens were going all out in this attack. Tad thought it was strange that the were still attacking after losing seventy percent of their force but then who could understand an alien?
Tad was reconsidering his troop dispositions when the radar screen fuzzed out and the computer reported that the signal was being jammed. Rather than try to reestablish the data link to the base, Tad opened a voice channel and requested an update.
"We just got another one heading for your sector, Delta Six. You boys can handle two of them, can't you?"
"Sure, base, you just make sure that is all we have to do and I will personally buy you a beer. Delta Six out."
Switching back to the company circuit, Tad said, "O.K. people, listen up. We got at least two carriers inbound. The cloud climbers have given them our regards, so the bioroids may be a little tired. Try not to keep from their rest too long," Tad tried to laugh and sound relaxed but it just sounded ghoulish. Escaping from his fears for his friends, Tad became more formal, "Company report and deploy."
As each platoon reported in, Tad thought of the officers and men in each that he knew. Who will be here at the end? When third and fourth platoon had transformed their tanks and they and the rest were fully on line, Tad said, "One minute, thirty. Standby."
Tad brought his tank fully up to power and for a moment was reassured by the the thrusters deep rumble that set it's solid bulk vibrating under him. He was debating whether to fight in Transport mode or Guardian when Richards', the company First Sargent and Tad's closest friend since he took command of Delta company, parked his tank next to Tad and motioned for him to switch to the company command circuit.
"You ready, Tad?"
"Sure, Dave. It's funny, though. I thought we were done for sure when I saw ten of them bastards heading for us."
"Oh, I don't know," said Richards with a smile that Tad couldn't see because of the other man's armor, "One carrier can do a pretty good job on a company. Why you should have seen the first battle for the air base. We lost more newbies that time than we have in the company now."
Tad swallowed and croaked out, "Thanks Dave, I really wanted to know that. Remind me never to put you in charge of the morale section. You will have everybody slitting their throats with their fingernails rather than seeing any battles like you have."
"Really, Tad, the aliens aren't fighting as well as they did at the beginning. We'll be O.K."
"Sure we will. Anyway ours is just to do or die and not to question why ... or even how for that matter."
"Careful about that dying part and we'll be just fine."
"O.K. Sargent, let's get ready."
Tad watched the sky for a few last seconds before his foes began to be visible to his enhanced senses. "Get ready, people. I want killing shots. Fire as you bear."
Tad switched his ordinance restricter to level one, which would automatically inhibit long bursts from the auto cannon when fired below fifteen degrees from the horizon and completely lock out the ion cannon below that angle. That action offered the surrounding city as much protection as it was going to get from its own defenders.
Tad slid his tank forward on its thrusters to the sharp crack of Ion cannons going off. Some of his people were taking long shots but third and fourth platoon had the highest proportion of sharpshooters. Tad continued to advance until he was well ahead of the intersection and cross street that the company was stationed on. Now all of the tanks in Guardian mode were firing and Tad could see that the aliens were taking hits but the three, not two, carriers were dumping their bioroids and hanging back. Tad exchanged a few shots with the leading group of bioroids from the middle of the street before spinning his tank around and racing back for the line.
The humans were putting up such a volume of fire that the bioroids were unable to fly in closer than five thousand meters. Tad ordered the first and second platoons to advance and engage as twenty to thirty bioroids began to leap off their hover sleds and take cover from the tanks fire. He also ordered first platoon to transform to Battleoid mode.
Tad shot forward when he saw bioroid appear around the corner of the street ahead of him, firing the whole time. There were three others around the corner and they nearly fried him as he bounced his mecha over their smoking leader, a blue Tad noticed. Tad scraped his right thrusters along the street as he turned the corner and charged into the firing group of enemies. Tad snapped a shot into the first one's visor, Put one into each arm and the leg of the next, rammed the third nearly flipping end for end from the impact. After stabilizing his gyrating tank, Tad looked up and saw five other aliens standing on the chemical tanks across the street.
Panic firing into their midst, Tad shouted, "First platoon, rally on me." The bioroids across from Tad began to concentrate their fire on him and he decided to back off until some support could come up. Leaping his tank onto the roof of the warehouse behind him, Tad fired into the face of the bioroid that had landed in the middle of the spot he occupied just moments before. From the roof, Tad saw that there were about forty bioroids, of various dusty shades, advancing in fire teams up the streets. In fact, Tad realized that he was about to be flanked and once more leapt his tank down to the street. Once more, Tad raced for the protection of his company, his tank jerking every time it was hit.
"First platoon, belay previous order. Form on my position to resist infantry assault."
Now transforming his tank, Tad tried to relax and let his mind feel the alpha state so that he could control the now man-shaped Battleoid like he controlled his body. The Battleoid automatically unshouldered the gun pod and went flat against the corner of warehouse Tad had just jumped down from. Radar showed nothing in the clutter of the city but Tad was sure that the aliens who had jumped him moments earlier would be trying to get past him.
"Six, I've got four of my people with me. We are about fifteen seconds inbound for your position."
"Roger, Daniels." Tad smiled, and stepped out from behind the building. The bioroids weren't surprised that he appeared and nearly blasted the corner of the building down on him but bounced into the air on his thrusters and landed behind his three attackers and slammed several shots into two bioroids heads before the other turned and punched Tad slamming the bioroid to the ground on its back. Unable to bring the gun pod up to bear before his opponent filled him full of holes, Tad fired the thrusters in the battleoid's back and leapt to his feet. Tad threw several punches at the alien's head which were effectively blocked and then tried to grab the bioroid around its body and throw it to the ground. Both machines creaked and groaned as the two pilots tried viciously to inflict their will on the other. Finally, Tad over balanced the alien, who had never found a firm stance and thrust him into a tangle of pipes and tanks across from where the two had been fighting. Before the other could untangle himself, Tad placed two shots in the bioroid's head, ending the struggle.
Just then, while Tad was trying clear his mind of the close-up view of the alien's pitted and scratched faceplate, several battleoids walked up to him. "Are you OK, Sir?"
"Yes ..." he swallowed as he looked at the dead bioroid, and then looked up, "Spread out, people. There are more coming. Where is Daniels?"
"She got hit on the way here; I don't know how she is. I'm corporal Chen, sir."
"Take charge, Chen. Hold here and keep reporting in. We have at least forty of the bastards on the ground. Cover me as I head back."
While transforming his tank back into transport mode, suffered several seconds of self loathing and criticism for running out into the battle like he was just an ordinary tanker with no other responsibilities, but then there was no time for recriminations as his full attention was taken with avoiding rubble and burning wreckage as he raced back to find his find sargent Richards.
The fighting was growing more intense and the and the ripping buzz of the gun pods and the shriek of auto-cannons, interspersed with the crack of Ion cannons firing, was loud even through the ear protection provided by his helmet.
Fortunately, the fly boys were doing their job and keeping the aliens pinned on the ground. Clearly though there were more than just three carriers on the ground now.
When Tad found Richards, he discovered that the situation was even worse than he had thought. The company was still holding the cross street they had started at but they were suffering heavy casualties. Three of the platoon leaders were already down, as were eight of the non-coms. The base had sent out alpha and beta company in support but both were having to fight their way through Monument and wouldn't arrive for another half hour. The worst news, Tad discovered, was that the platoons had identified enough red bioroids for at lead five carriers to have troops on the ground, representing at least one hundred and fifty bioroids.
"How is first platoon holding out, Dave?"
"As far as I can tell, what is left of them are holding the spot you put them in. They have taken a few more casualties but should be able to hold temporarily now that the rest of the platoon is up."
"What are casualties?"
"First is down to half, second and third are at about seventy five percent, but fourth got hit hard and there are only about three of them left. I sent them to second platoon," Richards pointed at Tad's tank and said, "Looks like you got hit pretty hard. That was pretty wild, charging out there like that."
"It was stupid and I nearly paid for it. How does air cover look for the next half hour?"
"If the masters don't throw anything else in, we should be fine in that respect."
"What are we doing about our wounded?"
"Doc has most of them stashed in his truck. He hasn't tried to get them out yet because there is too much activity for a med-evac," Richard's pointed to the front line, "I guess he has a couple of REP scouts out on hover cycles trying to get to someone out near first platoon. I hope they don't get hit but those crazy bastards actually wanted to go out."
"Dave, I'm going to fight with second and third. I want you to go out to First and take charge there. Keep them fighting but pull back to me if you are going to get over run."
"Yes, sir," said the sargent as he gave what Tad realized was an obscene salute from the cockpit of his tank. Without another word the sargent raced toward the fighting.
Tad drove through tanks that had burst open like popcorn from fusion core breaches as he moved to take control of second and third platoon. The fighting was intense and the humans had been driven back from their first line in the intersection to positions in the next row of warehouses and tank yards.
Tad switched to Guardian mode and began asking for fire missions. Grateful for the support, a squad sargent who had lost his tank but hadn't been injured in the process, moved on foot up the the old battle line and directed his fire.
For a few moments Tad was part of the mechanism of his hover tank. The The tank bucked each time he fired and then the gun was cycled back into it's firing position and he fired again. Tad made little hops to realign the tank on the target the sargent indicated. This continued for an hour long minute when Several air born objects impinged on Tad's awareness.
Before he could react, Tad saw that the bioroids in this attack were strafing wreckage as they charged toward the line that second and third platoon were defending. Tad switched to the auto cannon and fired burst after burst at the advancing aliens. It was too late for his spotter, though, Tad realized when he saw one of the bioroids fire on the spotter's hiding spot from point blank range.
Their first pass was over in seconds but Tad followed them around as they retreated back toward their waiting ships and then returned for another pass. Ignoring the aliens who were renewing their advance with this development, Tad began to call desperately over the tactical circuit for air support. He was reassured that everything that was available was committed to his company but received little reassurance.
At least twenty bioroids, flying in pairs, returned this time for two passes over the humans, damaging several more tanks, before heading back to work over the first platoon. Tad realized he couldn't remain where he was any longer. He had lost over half of the company now.
Calling Richards, he asked, "Dave can you pull back?"
"Yeah, it's just me and three others."
"OK, rally on me and then we are going to see if we can't pull off a fighting retreat."
"I'm ready for that, boss."
Tad warned Doc Farre to get his patients collected and to be ready to move. Then he and the remainder of second and third platoon tried to obliterate every alien in their sights. Then Tad and three other troopers concentrated on giving the people from first platoon some air cover. The aliens kept buzzing over the little column as it tried to escape but the bioroids were taking losses with each pass and trying to stay our of range of Tad's sharpshooters.
Finally, Richards and one other tank raced into Tad's reduced line. Now Tad ordered the company to fall back by fire teams. But just as the first tanks pulled out of the line, Four assault carriers, accompanied by twenty more bioroids advanced up the street toward humans. Tad and Richards were side by side, both in Guardian mode, as they downed several of the aliens and then concentrated on the carriers. Already, Tad could see that five of the tanks next to him were destroyed. And now as the Carriers moved closer, the street ahead of him filled with bioroids, most still on foot but more and more were leaping onto their hover sleds. In despair, Tad fired over and over at the assault carriers, hoping for that lucky shot that would send it running. Tad begged for air support, ground support or anyone with guns.
Then Tad felt and heard, rather than saw, a bioroid charge over his head. He felt its guns firing and heard the horrible screech of the rounds slamming home. "Hear it comes, a core breach," Tad thought, but nothing happened. Opening his eyes he realized that it was Richards' tank that had been hit. It looked fine, but there was the tale tale signs of damage to the cockpit and the armor around it. Without thinking, Tad jumped out of his tank and scrambled up the side of his friend's. Richard's body armor was shattered but his helmet was still in place, though askew. Tad saw him scrabbling desperately at the release tab and he removed the helmet but when he saw Richards' face he knew it was too late.
"You always said you were tougher than me and now you try to prove it by blocking a round with you body," Tad tried to say with a smile but nearly choked when blood began to pour out of his friends armor.
"Don't ... make me laugh ... hurts."
"Stay here, Dave."
"No, you have to ... go. ... shit, its cold."
Not knowing what to say, Tad held his friend and cried. The battle raged around them but none seemed to notice Tad's empty tank and his friend's shattered body. But the tableau lasted only for seconds; shots began to rain down around Tad as he slid down Richard's tank and then slithered back into his own.
Tad leapt back into the battle and rallied his people once more but the carriers continued to advance. Finally there were only ten tanks left and Tad was about to order them to prepare to fire on targets in all directions when tanks from Alpha and Beta company slid into view. Then the sky was filled with aircraft and the bioroids began to retreat.
Tad fought a gunnery duel with a red bioroid that was able to finish of his tank before Tad was assisted by a Logan. Tad escaped with a gash through his armor into his arm. While he waited for Doc to look at his arm, all Tad could think of was to wonder why he wasn't dead yet.
***
Tad awoke with a start. Something was wrong, he could feel it. There it was again, the thumping vibration be felt with his back. Dust and flecks of paint were beginning to drop from ceiling and the room began to buck and shake. Without realizing what he had done, Tad rolled off the side of the stretcher he was laying on. The floor was no safer if the ceiling of the trauma ward collapsed but Tad's motion had been instinctional. The base was under attack, a fact his conscious mind finally realized even though Tad's body had known that since he awoke.
Tad now looked up and realized that He was in a small cubicle with walls on three sides, two of them thin partitions, that opened out into the trauma ward's triage center. The room was obviously for warehousing the cases that weren't important at the moment, which included both the slightly wounded and those who for whatever reason couldn't be saved but weren't dead yet. Tad hoped he was considered one of the former or some med tech was going to get one hell of a shock.
Taking inventory of himself, Tad decided the trauma team had decided to do a full dress drill on him before the real thing had started outside because he was wearing only his khaki underwear. Tad could still see the spots where the EEG leads had been attached to his chest. His arm, the one with the long scar on it was slightly sore and that was probably where they had injected the sedative that had ended the dream. "What a disappointment I must have been. Just a simple head case, one shot in the arm, and wait until he wakes up."
This was the second time Tad had been overwhelmed by the waking dream. The first time had been on an exercise just after Tad's company was brought back up to full strength. The hallucination had been the same; one moment Tad was leading first platoon through a frontal assault on a crater held by a simulated assault carrier and its bioroids, the next his tank had lurched to a stop and when the platoon's fuzz faced lieutenant came over to investigate, he found his CO sitting in his cockpit shivering and staring, unseeingly, at the control panel.
It had taken two days for the combination of drugs and exhaustion to finally end the dream. The Doc said that he was close enough to a breakdown that people were going to get hurt if they followed him. Tad was advised to rest and recreate and wait for a discharge. Apparently, the Doc didn't know anything about the war, though. The G.M.P. had investigated the request for psychiatric discharge and decided that Tad could still fight in his condition. Tad's appeal to the GMP colonel had been useless, he suddenly realized, because as long as he was still facing the possibility of combat he would never regain his confidence. In fact, despair welling up in him, Tad realized that he was getting worse if a simple target range could induce the dream.
Tad was so immersed that he didn't notice when a short, blond haired, nurse entered the cubicle and found him sitting on the floor with his knees tucked under his chin.
"Come on, Sir. Get back on the stretcher. I got'ta take you up to the ward because we need this room."
Tad stood, taking the young man's hand, and asked, "How long was I out?"
"I don't know sir, when did you get hit? The battle is just about over and it only lasted three hours."
Tad ignored these words as he realized that the nurse's uniform was covered with blood and that he looked quite tired and a bit frightened.
"Look, can you get me a uniform and find my gear. I'll get out of your way," when a look of annoyance crossed the young man's face, Tad said, "How about you just show me where they put my stuff and I will find the uniform on my own and you can get back to work."
"I guess so; you sure the docs said you could go?"
Summoning some of the bravado he used to think of as a natural behavior pattern, Tad replied, "When there is a battle, son, unless one of you guys is actually cutting on something I like to be with my men. OK?"
"Come with me."
Tad tried to simulate some self-confidence as he walked through the triage center to the elevator that took them to the floor below. As the doors shut, Tad allowed his eyes to register the number of soldiers lying in their own blood or standing with bandages on various parts of their anatomy. Colonel Harris wouldn't be able to complain that his people hadn't spilled any blood for the cause, now. There was plenty leaking out in the triage center.
The med tech found everything except Tad's uniform. Deciding it didn't make much difference since he wouldn't need it once he found his body armor, Tad rode the elevator up four levels to the above ground structures of the base and walked to his quarters. The only people he encountered, two communications techs carrying several reels of cable each, paid no attention to him. Finally once he had stripped off his underwear and pulled on the under suit and snapped the rest of his armor in place, Tad tucked his helmet under his arm and went to the motor pool.
The motor pool was in chaos and no one noticed Tad as he stopped in the doorway. Already crews were working to begin repairs on tanks and other equipment that had been able to make it back to the motor pool. Above the smells of grease and burnt insulation, Tad could detect the faint hint of burnt flesh that always accompanied battles. Most of the tanks that were in their bays hadn't been to badly damaged. Each one had a feverish group of people crawling all over it, its access panels open and armor sections hanging from the overhead gantries, as they desperately worked to return them to battle readiness.
Stepping over welding cables, around piles of burnt electronics, and waiting for a cart that contained a new auto cannon to pass, Tad wended his way through the scrambling techs, to his own perfect tank, still sitting undisturbed in its berth.
The hover tank was unnamed, and Tad had done nothing to personalize it aside from allowing his name to be stenciled on the side below the cockpit. He had decorated his first tank with a sharks mouth, similar to one Tad had seen on the fighters from World War Two. After that tank had been destroyed, Tad had seen no reason to expend so much effort.
Tad's tank had been prepped before the battle, and vibrated to life as he engaged the thrusters and inserted himself into the bases communications net. It was somewhat difficult to find out where Geordan had taken the company after the alert without revealing that he didn't know where it was, but Tad was able to ask for a sit rep and after flicking through a couple of status boards on the left screen, He found them about twenty kilometers out from the base in a broad plain.
After logging out with the motor pool computer, it cleared Tad to leave and directed him through the chaos to an exit. Soon Tad was cruising across the bases tarmac, through the gate and toward where the company was stationed. Along the ride, Tad saw enough damage and wreckage to know that the base had been hit hard. The flight line had taken the brunt of the damage. Fires were burning where much of the base's fixed wing aircraft had been and even some of the Veritech fighters looked like they were on fire. Tad also saw some burning hover-tanks and APC's.
Tad didn't think to check to see if they were from his company.
Apparently, there was still some moping up going on, and it looked like Tad's company was in a running firefight with a damaged carrier and its bioroids. The rest of the base seemed to be working to clean the place up.
Tad switched to the company freaq and heard a blast of static followed by Lehie's voice, "They've taken cover in the gully, about a klick and a half to the northwest of your position, L.T."
"OK, First platoon, go to transport mode. You are going to flank the carrier. I want you at the north end of the gully in five minutes. Withdraw, like your going back to the base and once you are out of visual, head for the gully."
"Roger, Six."
"Second platoon, stays here in guardian mode. Keep the bioroids pinned down. The rest of you, form on me, we are going to storm the south end of the gully. Sargent Lehie, Keep the aliens under surveillance, but don't reveal your position, unless discovered. Stay put until I call for you and then I want you to hit them from the side."
"Roger, L.T.," Lehie replied with what sounded like some reluctance. Tad knew, he himself would be reluctant to follow those orders. But Geordan was in charge.
Tad turned off his Identification Friend or Foe beacon and moved to join Geordan. The ground of the plain was covered with knee high grass that flattened and remained down as the hover tank roared by. Topographically, the plain was slightly rolling with gullies marking where water had eroded the soil, before the grass had returned.
Tad realized the carrier had to have been hit hard if it had nearly been trapped on the surface. For a moment, Tad had the hope that they might actually get to look at one of the aliens mighty troop transport shuttles. It had more armor than a Southern Cross Cruiser but was nearly as maneuverable as all the fighters in the inventory.
Tad took up a position on the left wing of the assault. He crossed the dry creek bed that turned into the gully they were looking for and put all his weapons on standby. Again, he was eavesdropping on Geordan on the command freaq.
"Six, this is One-Six," the lieutenant in charge of first platoon, "We are in position, say again we are in position but are taking fire. Bioroids on foot are blocking our advance."
"Hold your position, One-Six."
Geordan was getting more desperate. The resistance was heavier than it should have been, or at least that is how it must have seemed to Geordan who was fighting his first battle. Tad was tempted to cut in and offer some advice. Clearly, if Geordan didn't order first platoon to attack, this frontal assault of his was going to get chewed up and then the aliens would turn and do the same to first platoon anyway. They had already been committed. Didn't he see that? But Geordan wouldn't listen to Tad, he would just hand over command to him and then resent him for the next few years. Things were bad enough in that area, Tad thought with some guilt, and didn't Harris want the company to be exposed to some losses anyway?
Deciding to remain silent for the moment, Tad continued the slow advance on the gully. They would be in range in a moment, and Geordan would have to decide anyway.
Suddenly, though, the decision was made, not by Geordan, but Lehie. Now genuinely angry, Tad nearly took command of what was beginning to look like a debacle but stopped himself again, when he realized there would be little he could do.
Lehie's squad advanced down the edge of the gully, in a skirmish line of battleoids, moving like infantry from cover to cover. With this, Geordan made the right decision and called for the whole company to advance firing.
Tad, accelerated into the gully as its gently sloping walls became higher and closer to one another. The firing began immediately, to his front, culminating in a shower of dirt and rocks as a bioroid started an avalanche to bury Tad and three of the other leading tanks. Blasting into the air on the tanks thrusters, Tad initiated the transformation to Guardian mode and once the tank was on the ground began firing at the offending bioroid.
After two near misses, with the bioroid dancing from side to side as it scrambled up the gully toward its companions, Tad pinned it right between the shoulders with the tanks ion cannon. The bioroid sprawled forward and pin-wheeled several times before it stopped at the feet of another. This time Tad hit him on his first shot, and his second, and the third, too.
The squad Tad had attached himself too, continued to advance up the gullies in short hops, watching for ambushers as the gully twisted one way and then the other. It was now, thirty meters deep and nearly half a klick across. It nearly qualified as a baby canyon, in Tad's opinion.
Tad could see on his tactical displays that Lehie's squad was pinned just above where he had reported the Assault Carrier to be landed. Noticing for the first time that there were only two tanks left of the four that had been in the squad he joined, Tad told them to follow him, on the inter squad freaq.
He now transformed his tank back to transport mode, and began to race up the center of the gully. He could feel the wind whipping past his helmet and even hear the roar of bioroid cannon shells going past. Jigging from one side to the other as much as he could and still keep control of his tank, Tad also began scanning ahead for the downed carrier. Shots were raining in from all around now. Several times the tank lurched one way and then the other as the bioroids' shots slammed into his tank's armor.
Ignoring the voices shouting over the company net, Tad continued on alone. Finally, He began to hear the thump and crack of the Lehie's squad, firing on the carrier itself. As he transformed his own tank into the battleoids form, Tad shouted into the net, "Lehie, I'm on the other side of the carrier. Keep me covered, I'm coming to you."
"Who the hell is that?" came from Geordan at the same time Lehie replied with, "They still have one sled in the air. Watch out for the two red bioroids, near the ramp on my side of the carrier."
Tad jogged the tank up the gully, until he could see the battle. Smoke and dust were beginning to obscure the area but Tad could make out three bioroids with their backs to him, participating in the battle with Lehie. If that was all that was left, the battle was over and they just had to tell the aliens.
Tad killed the first one, and now, there were other members of the company pulling up behind him, taking sniping positions. Some firing on the carrier itself, to make sure it stayed on the ground. He jumped over the rocks separating him from Lehie's position nearly tripped over a fallen bioroid.
As they began to wrestle, Lehie charged up the ramp of the Carrier, bringing two other tanks with him. From the open entrance, a red bioroid on a hover sled, flew out nearly bowling Lehie over before it shot up into the sky. Tad, was surprised to see Lehie's tank, not lying flat on the ground, but instead scrambling up the red bioroid's back as the pair unsteadily flew out over the plain.
Tad broke out of his partners embrace smashing the alien's "face" with the tank's fists, and threw himself up into the carrier. The question now was whether they could actually take the thing before the aliens were able to make the repairs to get it off the ground. or whether they would. Tad wasn't really thinking at this point and should have waited for more help. He just shot into the hatchway, turned right, and he was suddenly in a mecha sized bay filled with damaged bioroids.
Before he could back out, several of those closest to Tad had come alive and one batted the tank's gun pod from its hands. Reacting to the motion, Tad jumped backwards, and transformed the tank in the process into its guardian mode. He landed back in the hatchway. The door began to close. Panicking as the hatch way filled with unsteady bioroids trying to grab onto the tank and even pluck Tad out of the cockpit, he swiveled and fired the main cannon at the entrance three times in a row. Tad felt himself ripped out of this seat restraints and nearly thrown off his tank as the back blast washed through the small chamber.
Unable to think, Tad scrambled back into his seat and urged the tank forward through the now ruined hatch, and down onto the ramp where another tank stood with its arms open, as if to welcome him. Again, Tad pivoted around completely on the tank's jets, and tried to fire into the carrier with the ion cannon again, but the computer locked out the gun because it had been warped in the back blast. Two stumbling greens bioroids grasped the front of the tank, trying to tip it onto its side. Screaming, Tad fired the auto cannon into their upper bodies and head structures. Finally, they fell backwards with a lurch and after blasting the side of the carrier for several seconds, the computer also shut this weapon down to prevent its warping.
Nothing moved in front of Tad. There was no sign of life, in fact, in the area that Tad could see. The radio was silent but he saw that it was not functioning, probably as a result of the close blast. Suddenly, Tad felt his tank shudder, then settle onto the ramp and go silent, another thing the computer shut down, trying to keep the tank from exploding.
Tad blearily reached around behind his seat to find his survival pack but gave up the effort when he realized that half of the contents had melted, and the e-clips for the rifle were probably unstable.
Jumping down off the house sized guardian configured tank was a mistake, Tad realized, when the front half of his armor fractured and pieces began to fall off. He nearly fell, as his knees buckled and he ended up sitting on his ankles. Taking off the helmet and throwing it from him, Tad began to run away from the carrier and the still standing but silent battleoid that had greeted him on his exit from the alien carrier.
After running about twenty meters, Tad slowed to a walk, and then stopped again as the ground began to real around him. Feeling cold and exposed, Tad stumbled over to a rock at the bottom edge of the gully and sat down. Tad looked again at the now gigantic carrier, as he appreciated it from a more human scale, and then saw the dust plumes being stirred up as the rest of "his" company came up and began to surround the carrier.
He decided that someone would find him, while tanks edged up to the two tanks sitting on the ramp and a tanker got out and looked first at the battleoid and then the guardian.
"It's a good thing I didn't eat anything today," Tad thought as has stomach lurched when he fell over onto his side. Soon he wasn't thinking, just remembering ...
Tad broke out of his momentary daze, when his tank bumped against the ground and settled on its thrusters. Have to watch out for sleeping on the job, he thought wryly to himself. I might just run over a bioroid trying to cross the street or something ...
***
It was Geordan who found him. He was half inclined to leave the man, but then Lehie came up and knelt down beside Tad's shivering body. Larry watched as the sargent striped off the remains of Tad's armor and then wrapped him in a blanket. It was obvious that the under suit had melted into Tad's skin.
They had finally killed the last battleoids aboard the carrier, about three hours after the attack began. The company had lost twenty tanks and twenty seven people, but they had captured an alien assault carrier. It was getting dark now, and Geordan had the rest of the company working on recovering the wounded and dead. But everyone was accounted for now.
They hadn't even realized the Captain was in the battle until someone had pulled the computer on his tank. It was almost a complete loss. It certainly was beyond the repair capabilities of Emery base and would have to be shipped to the repair depot in the Florida province.
Larry couldn't decide what to feel about the strange Captain. At first when Lehie had told him that the Captain was ill, after they were at their alert station waiting for the aliens, Larry was scornful. Surely this was just another example of the captain's gold bricking. But then there was the captain's incredible performance during the battle. Larry knew that he had blown an easy one when the first platoon got caught. But suddenly, everyone attacked and there was the unknown tank, with the captain in it, leading the charge right into the carrier.
The captain had lost his tank and may have accidentally killed Davidson who had been following him, but he had created quite a bit of confusion aboard the carrier. When Larry arrived with third and fourth platoon and the remnants of first, and second came charging down over the side of the gully, there hadn't been a peep from the carrier. When Larry led three other troopers into the carrier, they saw only one bioroid still moving and quickly dispatched him. The carrier was theirs.
Even Lehie's stunt had turned out well. He managed to pull the red off its sled and as the two fell, Lehie managed to land on his feet on top of the alien's head area. The tank was shot but they finally had a red bioroid in pretty good condition, minus its pilot of course.
The company had done well, today. And Larry would surely get most of the credit. But Larry Geordan felt sick and was just starting to get the shakes. All, he could see of Tad, lying in the dirt and wrapped in a blanket, was something rather pathetic and feeble. Disgust made him turn away from the Captain, and ignore Lehie's patient gaze, as he fell to his knees beside them and looked instead at his prize, the carrier. The disgust was really fear, but then, Larry didn't want to know that.
Lehie continued to wait until some medics from the base arrived and took Tad back to the hospital. Geordan just watched as he then began talking on the net with the motor pool to organize the recovery of the damaged tanks and equipment.
Copyright 2000, Robert G. Werner
robert@inreachtech.netAlimony is the high cost of leaving.