Stone Blade (8 page)

Micah saw Sanders before he left. He still gibbered, sedated, but Micah spoke a few reassuring words. He also managed to snag Sanders' spare Flame and ammo. Micah had a feeling he'd need them more than Sanders would. As Micah left the medic eyed him suspiciously.

“Let me scan you, soldier.”

“Sir?” said Micah.

“Don't play dumb with me, boy. Drop that armor and let me scan you!”

Micah looked at the line and the ones about to leave.

“Sir, they need me here. I'm up and I can fight!”

The medic visibly considered this.

“Fine, soldier. You die and I'll pizzle on your grave.”

Micah saluted that. The League really did need him on the line.

Micah found the third platoon guarding the flank from whence he'd come. Fortunately the League had enough artillery - barely in range - to keep the armor at bay. After a brief yet intense questioning Micah found himself tucked into high ground.

“Spot and snipe, Stone,” said Sergeant Scully, an NCO Micah immediately liked, “Call it in and keep 'em from killing us before it gets here.”

“Right, Sarge,” said Micah.

***

By the time dusk fell Micah knew they were in trouble. He dutifully called his fire missions and they increased in number at an impressive rate. So had missions outside his area. He knew the Corpsies weren't taking all those casualties, just pulling artie and making the League waste ammo. Their plan worked.

“Our situation is this,” said Dalion over the command freq, “Orbital bombardment has been delayed. Our orders are to fall back and await transport. Artie's getting hungry and the Corpses probably know it. We'll be falling back to Point Singer and meeting with other divisions there. Your objective is Point Singer. First, Third and Fourth platoons will punch a hole and the rest will guard it. Do not let the fight slow you!” Dalion paused a moment. “Good luck, ladies and gentlemen.”

Micah almost spat with disgust! They'd expended most of their ammo - and artillery, according to Dalion - holding useless ground and now they'd retreat! Even with the few Dalion had they could at least make a dent in one of the Corpse strongpoints. They'd take casualties, certainly, but they'd take the Corpse fire base too!

“Mount up, ladies,” said Scully, “You have a good eye, Stone. Take point. Sing out if you see something.”

“Right!”

The troopies moved aside and fixed their position on Micah's. One of them, a lady with nice eyes, gave him a wink.

“Move out,” barked Scully.

Micah crouched and advanced, grounded and scanned. His hud showed the League troopies around him. He popped a Flame and concentrated on his nightvee. 

Targets! Micah called coordinates and opened fire. He dropped and rolled and his world narrowed to his targets and his hud. The comm noised up but Micah ignored it. Staying alive took priority!

After an eternity of actinic streaks slashing the darkness Micah crossed into Point Singer. Third Platoon had taken no casualties nor had any other trooper following Micah. He topped a berm and saw League troops with semis covering him. Relief washed through him as Scully and the others from the Third joined him.

“Good work, Stone,” smiled the sergeant, “Fall back to HQ. We probably have some rats there.”

Micah reported to a faceless man at a battlecomp. The rating nodded and motioned him along. Not far away another rating handed out ration packs and hot chog. Micah accepted gladly and searched for the rest of the Third.

“Hi, soldier.”

Micah looked up. The lady with the nice eyes sat down beside him. When she removed her helmet Micah discovered she had nice hair, too.

“Rigby, Tatiana. League Occupation Forces, 1454-slash-15. My friends call me Tashi.”

“Stone, Micah J. 113 TAS, Commonwealth of Caustik. Micah.”

Rigby smiled and Micah returned it. Micah found League rations and chog quite tasty. Especially so with pleasant company. After they finished eating Rigby dug out a battered pack of drugsticks, offered Micah one and lit one for herself.

“You wanted to take out those Corpses, didn't you?”

“Yeah! I don't see why we didn't. Even without the wounded we could've taken out the fire base. I know they had interlock support but that can be used against 'em! We could've done a lot before orbital got here!”

Rigby shrugged. “I got a flash for you, pal. We took a shellacking. Orbital is mostly gone. From what I heard, the Corpsies managed a solid ambush while our dainty high friends were polishing their pizzles. They're fighting like hades topside and hoping to get cans down for us before artie starves.”

Micah was incredulous!

“What about high reserve? Did you even bring one?”

Rigby smiled at this. “HighCom doesn't ask my opinion, Micah. I'd give them an earful if they did.” She winked.

“Are we up for call tonight?”

“Flames no! We're just in from a hotzone. As soon as the blackwater boys get window we're gone.”

“Polar.” Micah lay back and stretched out.

“What,” said Rigby, “I'm boring?”

“Long day.”

Rigby chuckled at this. She crushed out the 'stick and lay beside him.

“Same here.”

***

A hand shook Micah to wakefulness. Explosions boomed in the distance and Micah woke with his rifle ready.

“Easy, Stone,” said Scully, “We got window on a transport. Forty-five and you better be ready. Miss this one and we're not turning around!”

Micah shook his head. For the first time in a long time the nightmares returned. Rigby roused herself but said nothing.

“Artie's coming,” said someone to Micah's right, “I hope those cans are hot.”

Micah knew the League artillery was down to its very last round. The Corpsies probably had that figured and decided to move in. They tried it several times before but the artillerists were faking then; they peppered the Consortium forces after a few got in range. Rumor had ten minutes on the transports but Micah would believe when they grounded.

The transports landed with a roar. The League gunners dropped their last rounds for maximum chaos and the light cannon on the transports opened up. Despite everything Micah thought would go wrong the soldiers boarded with no confusion at all.

The Corpsies tried to assemble a charge but counterfire from the transports stopped it before it started. Micah heard Rigby and Scully joking about the transport lightening its load so they could board.

“No need for ammo in orbit,” chuckled Scully, “This old can'll drub 'em good!”

Strapped in and secure, Micah just managed to wriggle into a comfortable position when they launched. Once the acceleration stopped Micah leaned back and went to sleep.

Docking maneuvers woke Micah. Once the transport docked the lights brightened and the troopies started unstrapping. Micah stepped out onto a large, cavernous and crowded deck. He counted no less than six transports with hints of even more beyond his view. Micah followed the crowd through a pressure seal and to a terminal. He pressed his hand against the pad and waited. It flashed red, of course.

“This way, soldier.”

Micah followed the rating down a short corridor to an office filled with a dozen others plus a League clerk. Micah noticed several Commonwealth crunchies but none from the 113th. When they spied him they pointedly ignored him. Typical.

“Name and tag, please,” said the clerk.

Micah recited it along with the League code he'd been issued.

The clerk entered the data. His terminal beeped and spat out a datachip. 

“Room and supply,” said the clerk, “Please check your weapons at the armory.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The clerk grinned. “No need to sir me, sir. I work for my pay.”

Micah returned the grin and gave him a salute for it.

***

Settled in a barracks without many others there Micah read his chip along with the general information the terminal suggested. This troopship was bound for Zelve Station, a depot not close to Caustik. From there he could outsystem to Caustik but it would take a while. On the polar side, though, he'd have priority on those same departing ships.

Micah puzzled out the League query system and inquired about his unit, then Sanders, then the Caustik forces in general. He found little good news. Not many of the 113th sent would return. Sanders was bound for a med station a lot closer to Caustik.

Another datafeed covered the tactical situation. The background mostly matched what Sanders had given. From the rest of the information Micah gathered that the Consortium had indeed managed an ambush. Either they were lucky or they had good intel; they managed to peg most of the League ships assigned to orbital bombardment. Those ships hadn't taken much damage, they'd only been delayed. The Corpsies launched massive missile swarms, followed them in and did what damage they could before leaving.

Simple summary, thought Micah, the Consortium probably had the planet if they wanted it. A given. With a little time to consolidate the ground positions they'd be in excellent shape to keep the League from taking the world. As to the petition, well, Micah didn't worry about that. Not in his orders.

Micah cleared the queries and located the mess hall. He'd see how League Naval rations compared to Caustik's.

Upon entering the hall Micah almost turned and left, convinced he'd made a wrong turn. Instead of long, straight tables this room had small scattered ones. The tables had chairs instead of benches and wall holos to give it even more room. Only the fact that those present sat with military precision indicated the room's function.

“Micah. Here. Join us.”

Micah waved at Rigby. He drew his rations and sat at her table.

“I tell you we got whacked,” said Norris Alberts, ComSpec, support squad, “Intelligence and luck my rosy pink duff. You'd think these high shiny boys could at least guard their own ships!”

“Stow it, Alberts,” said Scully with the annoyance of many repetitions, “No plan survives first contact. We got firsted. We both know it happens.”

Micah concentrated on his rations. They tasted even better than the ones he'd eaten dirtside! He couldn't even taste the soya!

“So what d'you think, Stone,” asked Alberts.

“Not my job. My orders were to take a fire base. Obviously we didn't.” Micah tried to stay diplomatic but he knew some of his disgust leaked through.

“Obviosity,” replied Alberts, “We were just outed. Out-numbered, out-gunned, out-flanked, out-foxed...”

“Fuse the teeth, Norris,” said Rigby with considerable irritation, “In case you missed the fact, Micah was the one who brought us the data about the armor flanking us. After he lost all of his unit and almost his CO.” She turned her smile on Micah. “I think he did a hades of a job. And he saved his L-T.”

Micah half-smiled and looked down. After his lieutenant failed to contact or support, he thought traitorously.

Alberts thought of something, thought better of it and fell silent. Dessert suddenly absorbed his attention. After a moment several others tried to start the conversation again.

“So, Stone,” said Scully, “Tell us something about Caustik. Nobody's been there.”

“Not much to tell,” shrugged Micah, “It's, well... It's like... Hm. It's not too cold but it's not too hot. Except on the equator. That's where the 113th trains. The atmosphere is mostly clean but there's still some work to be done.”

Micah covered a few general points about Caustik. He felt uncomfortable talking much about his military training so he kept away from that.

“So tell us about this TAS,” prompted Rigby when Micah stopped speaking.

“113th Tactical Assault Squadron,” corrected Micah, “We do the things the other crunchies can't. That's pretty much it.”

“That's not saying much,” smiled Rigby, “Surely there's more than that.”

Micah tried to think around his forming headache. Dessert too rich, he decided.

“Leave over, Tats. He's not interested in you anyway.”

Micah looked sharply at the speaker. His tag read 'Oslov' and he'd scowled at Micah since he first joined them.

“Besides,” continued Oslov, “I can tell you all about Caustik Ass-Troopers. First of all it really means Terror and Atrocity Squads. That's what they do. They get all the dirty little jobbies nobody else wants.”

Micah scowled back but kept his silence. No need to rise to such bait.

“Just ask him. You need some civilians killed, call the 113th. Need a government tipped, call the 113th. Want some really nasty murders, call them. What's wrong, Stone? Nothing to say?” His voice grew heated. “You don't really have to call them, either. Just disagree with 'em. Even a little! Just speak out against Caustik and they'll be sneaking in, sticking you in the back and hitting you from behind. That's 'cause they don't have the pizzle for an honest fight.”

Micah kept silent and tried to hold his temper in check.

“Then,” said Oslov, “after they're finished they go for the girls. They don't like women. They like school girls, farm girls, or baby girls. Doesn't matter. After they kill the parents they do the children...”

Oslov might have continued but Micah found himself suddenly on his feet. Oslov stood too with fear oozing out his pores. Time started to slow. Something cracked sharply and Oslov paled. Micah had no weapons but by stars he'd not need one! One solid punch and...

“AS YOU WERE, SOLDIER!!”

Scully's voice snapped through Micah's rage. Micah ached to rip Oslov apart. His head pounded now and he wanted nothing more than to take it out on...

“I said as you were, Stone!” repeated Scully.

Oslov's face was a hard mask over an ocean of fear. Micah could almost smell it.

“Easy, Stone,” said Alberts, “We're cryo, Sarge. Rough trip. Bad nerves.”

Alberts grabbed Oslov's sleeve and pulled him away. Though Oslov continued his cold stare Micah saw his relief at leaving.

“He's wrong,” said Micah, finally, “He's totally wrong!”

“Of course he is, Stone,” said Scully, “Now get to sick bay.”

“What?”

“Micah, your hand,” said Rigby urgently.

When Micah looked he saw he'd shattered his cup. Several fragments lodged deep in his palm and blood dripped on the table.