Naero's War: The Citation Series 2: The High Crusade (26 page)

With that, Shetanna vanished.

At first the crowd was disappointed, but then new cheers quickly rose up from below.

Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!

Spacer Marines! Spacer Marines! Spacer Marines!

Company 36 formed a ring, and came down upon that hilltop amid cheering and singing. Then as a festive atmosphere spread, they went down and walked among the many children and people rushing up to them.

Naero’s brothers and sisters moved among that gentle, smiling, laughing throng of thousands of voices on each side of them and encircling them, calling out their thanks and gratitude. Small children climbed up on them, into their arms, and onto their strong backs.

Marines went down laughing under waves of grinning, giggling kids.

Thereafter, as the celebration spread and continued, the Marines sat among them all and spoke freely, while people of all races and ages, came before them to offer gratitude and thanks.

Even the hurt and the lame struggled to come to them and speak their thanks. With tears in their eyes, some of the people they had saved attempted to kiss their hands and feet while sobbing and weeping, and the Marines stopped them, humbled and overwhelmed all the more.

Soon after that, the Marines were giving rides to the children up in the air with their gravwings. This was a huge hit. They zipped the laughing and shrieking kids around in the bright sky, going slow so as not to scare the little ones. Below, long lines of others anxiously awaited their turns, shivering and hopping with glee and delight.

Word spread quickly. Other Bravo Marines nearby from many other companies learned about the celebration, and configured themselves at first in white, and then thereafter in a rainbow array of colors, and came down all over the planet, spreading the growing celebration of life.

Then it was learned that there were many children still in many hotels converted by fixers into hospitals, all over the planet, who wept and cried in their recovery beds because they could not join in.

In response, the growing numbers of Marines checked with medical staffs, and arranged to swarm upon those hospitals like brightly colored birds. Any child fit enough to endure such fun, was visited and flown smiling out of their very windows. Even if four Marines had to fly them out upon their beds.

Across the world of Naraden-6, the skies and the heavens rang with the laughter of children. No child was neglected, not even in the regen rooms and burn wards.

And in special cases, some few little ones who at the last were deemed beyond all medical help, were allowed by choice to look upon or breathe their last up in the bright sky in the dazzling light, drifting off onto the next journey, smiling in the mighty arms of a Spacer Marine. Marines who had been among those who had saved them, and at least brought them away from war, to this peaceful and gentle place.

To do such a thing for a dying child was considered a great honor of the highest sort. At least these dying orphans of war did not pass on alone, unknown, forgotten, and unnoticed as mere casualties of the war.

When it came time to eat meals, clouds of fixers helped provide and distribute a merry feast for all. The Marines happily ate side by side with their many new friends, and even helped the caretakers feed the smallest, the injured, and the helpless.

There was great healing to be made and to be had on Naraden-6. Being with and helping with all of those many children healed the Marines in ways that could not be put into the words of any language. Yet there were now countless children on that world, planetwide, who would never forget them and their true power.

Word continued to spread fast.

Many more battle-weary Marines and naval personnel eagerly elected to come down and spend time among the orphans and refugees.

As was established now, the warriors left their armor and weapons behind, and usually just brought their gravwings. For the children, flying was always a big hit.

The authorities extended the Festival of Life over the next three or four days and beyond for other units in need of shore leave. Such a festival would also be scheduled on other hospital worlds.

For a brief time, many of the Marines returned to being like children themselves. All of them together, children who needed to heal.

Now it became a common sight at nap times to spot Marine volunteers and helpers snoozing serenely in the grass, in the shade, with rings of their little charges resting peacefully alongside with the other caretakers.

And if a Marine broke down for some reason and wept, his new little friends hugged her or him and even cried together, until they all finally stopped. And once they were cried out, they could all smile and play together once more.

An entire flock of tiny Pietto children came to Nicholas Kowalski in his recovery room to thank him. They laughed and sang for him until he wept and at last he could finally sleep.

Naero slipped away, and spent most of her time helping with the children who were still too injured or sick to go out.

Shetanna made many a special appearance in secret.

And if she also used biomancy to give some of those kids a little extra boost in healing, regeneration, or pain relief here and there–so be it. It was worth exhausting herself each day in order to achieve that much.

When it finally came time to depart, countless Marines from 36 and many other companies and units came to her explicitly, to personally thank her for what she had started.

Naero merely smiled and told them, “All I asked was for you to trust me.”

24

Chodan-3 was just another world that Naero and Bravo hopped into. But it didn’t matter. And despite Whip Konrad’s OCD foreboding that this time, his legs were going to blown off and he’d pass out and bleed to death, Naero and the Marines went ahead as planned and did their duty as they always did.

At least by then, Intel had a new Comsys and Combat Grid up and running. Om had contributed a few rapidly morphing, Kexxian-style super-algorithms to that cause through Naero and the spyfixers.

Yet at some point throughout the course of such fierce fighting, something was was bound to happen to almost everyone. Clearly, it was all just the law of averages and dumb luck–unless one was on Bodis-2.

During further close-in action in built-up areas in another megacity on Chodan-3, Shetanna took her turn at being wounded and nearly killed.

A series of enemy artillery blasts rocked Company 36 as they assailed an enemy position on the combat grid. The attack injured friend and foe alike.

That was never much of a concern for the invaders. They were happy to cut down their own kind in order to take out some Marines.

Naero’s shields vanished as the blasts kicked her about like giants using her for a kickball. She and Om attempted to hurl up Cosmic defenses against the destruction all around them, protecting them and the forward elements of 2
nd
Platoon Marines from Squads 2, 3, and 4.

Yet those fledgling defenses collapsed as well under the fury of that massive barrage.

The Ejjai invaders supplemented their normal artillery attacks with direct fire from the their orbital starship batteries, in an attempt to hold off the Spacer Marines from slicing through their positions.

Naero…Naero!
Om called out to her.

She couldn’t move. Her hearing was impaired from the proximity to the blast, and even with the depths of her own mind, it was difficult to listen, to focus on Om’s words or anything else.

We have taken serious damage to our physical form. Instituting protocols to sustain life functions and place our physical form in healing stasis to avoid further injury and collapse of all bodily systems. Lots of concussive force damage. Routing all biomancy abilities and healing energies toward self-repair and regeneration. Staunching bleeding and maintaining life functions.

Naero couldn’t even tilt her head and look down. Parts of her combat armor had been blasted away or melted off of her. She was effectively a scorched and bloody mess. Thankfully, all of her pieces seemed to be there still, but nothing would respond. She thought that she should have been in great pain.

But after being placed in stasis, she only felt numb. She didn’t feel anything, and in a way that was even scarier–feeling disembodied. When her vision flickered and blurred, she had no way of knowing if she was merely losing consciousness–or dying.

We are not dead yet, N. I am doing all that I can to sustain us.

She thought she saw her good friend’s face: Jonny Fox.

“Haisha, N!” He placed on hand on her face and checked her wounds. “This is bad. Don’t worry, I’ll do what I can. Medic. Medic!”

He’s giving us healing…lifeforce energy. I was not aware that any of the Marines had a psyonic healing abilities.

Naero hadn’t been aware of that either.

For a short while, she faded back in more and felt slightly better.

Where’s Jonny? I don’t see him. Om? I’m losing it again.

He passed out from aiding us, but he is merely unconscious. We’re the one in serious trouble. I’ve called to the other Marines through the fixers. They’re coming.

Then as she started slipping even further away, Naero heard other voices, more people she knew, like Trevor Lakota. Her awareness grew fragmented and confused.

Strong hands grabbed her and moved over her, deactivating and removing the pieces of her armor and weapons, checking her condition.

“Haisha! It’s Naero and Fox, Sarge. Fox looks okay; he’s just passed out. But Naero’s down and she looks bad off. Like she took a direct hit!”

Naero knew that voice also and clung to that knowledge. That voice belonged to Suki Lii from 2
nd
Platoon, Squad 1, Fireteam 3.

Sergeant Selby Vaughn’s voice came closer. “Damn it, she’s bad off. Is she dying?”

Suki shouted, “I’m not sure, Sarge.”

“She’ll make it. Those slasher bitches can’t take our Shetanna down that easy. Help me stabilize her, Suki.”

“I’m with you, Sarge. Haisha, N’s lost a lot of blood. Her suit’s floating in it.”

“Gravwings. Now. We have to get her to one of the aid stations or medical ships. I’m scanning the nearest one.”

Whip Konrad called out, “Sarge, we have eight other wounded, most of them just as bad off. And the enemy’s advancing on our positions.”

“Form up and keep fighting, 36. Ana, we’re moving the wounded to the rear. Back in a bit.”

“Good work, Vaughn. Get our people to safety. We’ve got this here. Put in on them, Bravo!”

Fire from small arms and grenades crackled and exploded in front of them as the enemy came on.

“Her gravwing is junk,” Suki complained.

“Get a gravlift on her from one of the fixers and keep her between us. Let’s get her back with the rest. Stay low. Once we clear those building behind the forward line, we should be clear to fly directly toward the nearest aid station.”

Sergeant Vaughn led them away from the battlefront as the conflict continued to rage behind them. She called out again, this time to Corporal Kooper Taylor. “Koop, log who’s hurt, how bad, and let’s start transmitting their vitals and their condition status to the aid station in advance. That way, the medteks can already have medbeds and medical fixers prepped for our people when we get there.”

Kooper relayed the cs data, sometimes through fixers. “Cs feeds on the way, and we are inbound, Sarge. ETA, ninety-seven seconds. Summary is nine total wounded, seven of them critical, including our MCL. Multiple blast injuries and trauma, burns, shrapnel, and concussive damage. We have them stabilized as best we can for the moment. The aid station will decide if they make it.”

“Shunt me the names of our people,” Vaughn said. “I want to see who’s hurt.”

“Naero Maeris, Kesha Aztec, Moses Fay. Deb Steiner, Bessa Jackson, Acer Adams, Baylor Scott, Trisha Marshall, and Michael Borelli. All floaters in tow. None of them can help themselves.”

“That’s what we’re here for. All right, people. We’re far enough away from the front lines. Fly low and fast under the cover of the buildings and let’s reach that aid station. Keep the wounded together in our shield pod perimeter. I want scans, eyes and ear, people. Maintain three 360 degree security all the way. No surprises.”

Yet even as they sped on, a knot of thirty Ejjai skirmishers exploded out of a nearby building to attack the small band.

“Fly through that building for cover and keep going if we can. Protect the wounded!” Vaughn roared.

They vectored through the building noted, adjusting shields and providing cover fire all the way. Even as they passed within, a storm of enemy fire peppered their unit shield and the face of the building.

A Marine fighter dipped down and blasted the exposed pocket of skirmishers with air bursts of explosive, anti-personnel ordnance.

Nearby supporting units rushed in to take over, a sortie of two Marine fireteams sweeping in to finish the job. They shot any remaining Ejjai to pieces, and sent them spinning, burning, and exploding to the ground.

A few seconds later, Vaughn and the others finally reached the aid station. Medteks rose up to meet them in order to get the wounded onto the present, linked medbeds as quickly as possible.

The last thing Naero recalled before the medbed-induced coma took over was the medteks cutting off and removing the rest of her armor and weapons. Her nanosuit they dissolved in a hurry. She felt cold and vulnerable.

We’re going to make it, N. We’re here. Your medical people are very competent. They will save us.

A female Spacer medtek smiled down at her and touched her shoulder. “Don’t worry, MCL Maeris. Your mates got you here. You’re in our hands, now. We’ll take over from here and get you fixed up. You just rest.”

*

When Naero came to, she was covered in regen paks and bandages, still held immobile on her medbed.

A few medical fixers bobbed around, monitoring the facility and the area. Naero looked around, struggling just to lift her head.

All of our friends are here, N. Everyone who made it here is still alive. Although many, just like us, were pretty bad off.

I can’t be on my back like this, Om.

Stop complaining. The more we rest, the faster we regenerate.

She told the doctors and medteks the same thing.

All of them laughed at her. “You damn fool. You and these others are lucky to be alive. Enjoy your stay with us for a few days. We’ll get you back to the front lines soon enough. Crazy MCLs.”

By the end of the next day, all nine of them from 36, in that shielded nanohut for recovery, were already going stir crazy.

They knew how these things went. In three to five day’s time, the action on Chodan-3 would most likely be over. That would be about the time they could go back to the unit.

Although the sounds of battle continued to recede into the distance around them, it still sounded pretty furious, and probably was.

But there was no doubt that it was now further away, and they would probably sit out the rest of this action, whether they liked it or not.

The nine of them still couldn’t move around much yet, but they could talk at each from where they rested, lying more or less fixed to their medbeds. Stasis fields kept them locked down. Those precautions were on purpose, to keep them from getting up and moving around, and possibly re-injuring themselves or someone else.

Elite troops were sometimes the worst at assessing their conditions.

Hence the stasis fields.

“Hey, N,” Trisha asked. “Where did you get hit?”

“All over, I think. Blast and shrapnel effects in numerous places. No broken bones, but lots of small blast fractures that are healing up inside. My armor and my shields saved my life, but they were practically shredded right off of me. Some of you are much the same, I assume?”

Moses, Deb, Bessa, and Baylor piped up in the affirmative, more or less the same as her–ragged and blown up.

Kesha Aztec called out. “I’m regrowing three fingers on my shooting hand, damn it. So I might be here a bit longer, guys. Anybody else missing any parts?”

Trisha cut them off. “I can barely see Mike over there. From this angle, it looks like the slashers took off that ugly growth sticking up on his neck. But our luck, it’ll probably grow back. Because it’s non-essential. Hairy warts like that are stubborn and hard to get rid of.”

All of them laughed, including Mike. “Yeah, laugh it up, Trish. You only wish you had a mug as pretty as mine. And for everyone’s info, I’ve still got my damn head. Think about it, geniuses. How else could I talk back at you goons?”

“Hey, Mike,” Moses told him. “We all know your brains aren’t in your skull anyway.”

Deb laughed. “Mike, we all thought you were maybe a ventriloquist or something. Your lips always move, but the sound seems to keep coming from out of your ass.” More raucous laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, you bunch of comedians. If you must know, I did get my legs all mangled up. But the medteks were able to save them. I gotta go through a partial regen to repair the nerves, ligaments, and joints. Then I’m going to kick all of your asses!”

“Oooh, big talk!” Kesha said.

“You couldn’t do any of that before,” Moses noted. “They giving you an extra leg or something?”

Bessa cut in and added, “So, I guess for now, you don’t have a leg to stand on.”

Everyone cracked up again.

“Boo! That was so bad, Jackson.”

“Bessa, I swear, when I do get out of here…”

“Yeah, sure. What you gonna do? You gonna hobble at me or something? Well scuttle my way and bring it, crab-boy.”

More bursts of laughter.

Trish sighed. “Well, guys. I might be here the longest, I’m thinking. They had to take my left arm at the elbow, and my left leg at the knee.”

Kesha tried to sound hopeful. “I like the new regen process; they say it’s only two weeks now, and a few days of hypertherapy to learn to re-use it.”

“And it doesn’t stink as bad. I’ll drink to that,” Trish said.

“She’s right,” Moses added. “Don’t you worry. I got my right arm shot off two months ago. I was back on the line in less than three weeks. Three weeks!”

“Wait a minute,” Naero said. “There’s a system we haven’t heard from yet. Is he out cold or something? Where’s that loudmouth sonovabitch Adams? Somebody kick Acer or hit him with a rock and wake him up. What’s his goddam story?”

They waited for a moment.

Acer Adams spoke out hesitantly. “Oh, I’m here, guys. I’m just resting and listening to all the jolly fun.”