The Battle for the Ringed Planet (13 page)

“No, Siiri, I don’t enjoy being here.” He checked his Con, “She hasn’t activated her PDB, or it got damaged.”

“Her what?”

“Her personal distress beacon, so no one knows she’s here yet, though they may scan the area near the wreck and discover her soon enough.”

“Will we be discovered?”

“Maybe, but let’s hope not, I can’t let her die.” He glanced at Siiri, “We have to splint her legs and stabilize her pelvis. These environmental suits come with emergency first aid features so that can be done by inflating the legs…”  As he spoke, the pilot began to stir and moan. Torian searched around her combat suit and found the controls near her left hip. He manipulated them and the legs of the suit made a hissing sound as they began to inflate. Suddenly the young pilot cried out.

“You’re hurting her!” Siiri cried.

“The suit is moving the fractured bones back into place, I think. Once that’s done, her odds for survival are much better. Luckily there’s no internal bleeding.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Well, we had some first aid training, but my uncle suffered this type of injury when he crashed his pick up. My father and I were there with him and watched as the paramedics did sort of what I’m doing now. It saved his life.”

“Torian …” Siiri motioned him to look to see that the pilot had opened her eyes. 

Beautiful brown eyes, round with fright, stared up at the tall enemy soldier and his female companion, “It’s all right Anna, you’re stabilized and I gave you a painkiller.”

After a horrendous cough and a nervous glance at his flight suit, the teenager’s weak, accented voice croaked, “Who are you?”

Stealing a quick peek at his Con he gently replied, “Yeah, that’s the tricky part ….”

“Torian!” screamed Siiri with a shrill frightened cry. Reflexively, he turned towards her and immediately stood up startled by the glowing gold of her eyes. In a desperate voice she commanded, “We have to run! Now!”
 

The young man had learned that whatever the voices were, they had been right before. Grabbing his pack and glancing warily skyward to check for Solvairs, he sprinted after the surprisingly fast girl. Her long blonde hair whipped behind as she ran through the bushes cutting around trees with punishing speed and no concern for scratches or bruising. He jumped over a fallen log, admiring Siiri’s dexterity. When a familiar whining noise sounded, however, his heart sank.

Without looking back to confirm his fears, he pounded his legs barely able to catch up with the breathless girl, expecting a plasma canon to burn them into oblivion. 

“The city!” she panted, shouting back leading the tall young man towards the outskirts. His Con rang in his earpiece.

“What are they?” She peeked back as he whipped out his Con.

“Armored Carriers; two of them! I’m sorry, I didn’t think. They are deploying troops! Keep running for your life!” Each box shaped military Infantry Fighting Vehicle hovered a meter over the terrain and carried eight fully loaded troops. In addition to the soldiers, they mounted a plasma canon and various other smaller weapons. Heavily shielded and invisible to his Con until up close, his holo pinpointed the military vehicles next to the downed pilot. They had halted, but a squad of troops had disembarked and
spotted the fleeing pair.

“Weave between the trees; it will throw off their targeting!” he shouted and just as he ducked, an invisible bolt sliced into the trunk beside him producing a burst of flames. Siiri screamed as another bolt cut a tree in half right next to her.

“Keep running!” he yelled, fumbling with his Con while on the run; Torian targeted the lead Imperium marine drawing his pistol.

“Torian!”

“Run Siiri!” he switched the pistol to overshot so he could fire four bolts from the magazine at once. Fortunately, the girl was a superb runner and could outdistance the marines who, despite their enhancements, fell slightly behind weighed down by their armor. As long as she kept zigzagging around the trees and heavy brush, she would make it to the city. Torian ducked around a small pine, then spotted a thick oak.

“Go girl, run!” he shouted as she approached the open concrete of the city and left the protective canopy of the forest. She would be an easy target and he had only one risky move that might save her. With only rudimentary training as a marine, he had excelled on the firing ranges, a crack shot. He knew the Imperium troops were good, but also consisted of many conscripts, including slaves. Shifting behind the meter wide oak tree, completely blocked from view, he studied his Con as sweat beaded on his brow. An overshot should penetrate a marine’s armor and shield, and depending on whether the marines were green recruits or veterans, he would live or die.

Sucking in a deep breath, nervously he placed the Con in his belt, and whipped around the oak tree with pistol ready. The enemy soldiers were about twenty-five meters away, their tiny-checkered green, brown, and black camouflage blending seamlessly with the surrounding foliage. He spotted the outline of the lead marine by his movement, the target already acquired and loaded into his Glock-Ruger 27, and fired!

The overshot hit the soldier square in the chest where Torian had targeted. Instantly the marine fell to his knees and his assault rifle flew out of his hands. A red glow appeared in the chest armor as the plasma bolt incinerated his heart. The shot not only hit the first marine, it passed through him seriously wounding the marine running behind him. Just as he had hoped, the other marines immediately went to ground thrown off by the sudden death of their comrade. Torian was relieved that they were inexperienced and slow to react. Seasoned Imperium marines would have defied logic and kept on running and firing, but these guys hit the ground to ascertain the threat; predicatable classic textbook.

The old oak was a perfect shield as he bolted towards the city pavement and concrete buildings while the Imperium soldiers worked to re-acquire their target. His boots echoed on the pavement and Torian grimaced at the dead giveaway and wished he had quiet boots like the leather ones Siiri wore. As the wiry young man darted towards a small residential apartment building, the marines started after him. He spotted the girl beckoning him over from behind a tree in the small front yard of a faded brown-bricked building.

Then he heard a marine shout in plain English, “Frag out!”

“Crap!” he propelled towards to Siiri and roughly shoved her against the trunk in the opposite direction to the soldiers. With a loud “whomp,” a grenade landed a few meters from the tree and both their prox shields activated to block burning fragments. Then he almost ripped her arm off as he dragged her around the corner of another building to avoid the plasma bolt that vaporized an entire brick corner.

The athletic soldier pressed the frightened girl protectively against the wall while he readied his pistol for another overshot. He had no time to use his Con to target, though in an urban setting all the cover rendered targeting practically useless. He would have to aim and just hope he hit an Imperium marine. Behind he heard Siiri sobbing and felt her shaking; there was no time to console her.

Whipping around the corner, he fired quickly and ducked when he spied the muzzle of an assault rifle poking out from the edge of the building across the street. At least it made them dodge for cover. Then his heart skipped a beat when he realized that they might be flanking adjacent to his position. The enemy could link their Cons to orbiting spacecraft for a superior view of the tactical situation putting Torian at a disadvantage.

“Come on!” He hauled Siiri across the road to get ahead of the other marines and ambush them, as futile as it might be against half a squad. Running with the girl in tow, he prepped his pistol for another lethal overshot. When they both charged around the building, they came face to face with four Imperium marines aiming their weapons. Torian and Siiri stopped dead in his tracks.

Fortunately, the soldiers had been ready, holding off firing, preferring instead to identify their foe. Torian immediately raised his hands and Siiri just stood still, shaking in disbelief.

The marine closest raised his visor, revealing a set of unnatural dull red eyes and something round and metallic embedded in his temple, “Far enough, drop your pistol!”

“Kill him Gregory!” The marine next to him hissed, “He killed Scott!”

“Shut up Victus!” Gregory, a sergeant with three black chevrons on his helmet, growled, aiming his rifle at Siiri with a crooked grin, “Who is the blonde?”

“She’s a civilian, a non-combatant!” Torian replied fast, desperate to save her from harm and rape, “She has important intel, really important intel …”

The sergeant countered, “There are no civilians on this world, they’re all dead ...” Then his face went pale and he grabbed his forehead with his gloved hand, falling forward at Torian. At the same moment, the marine beside Victus fell to his knees groaning and the other reached to grab him.

Torian grabbed the assault rifle from the sergeant while he slumped and aimed it at Victus, caught unprepared with his arm on his comrade. Discharging a short burst, Torian stitched the marine, killing him instantly.

The last standing enemy raised a larger assault rifle at the wiry young man trying to aim his weapon. Expecting to die, Torian grimaced, shutting his eyes, but then he heard a click and a rushing sound followed by a clatter on the pavement. Snapping his eyes back open, he spied the last soldier on the ground clutching his face, shuddering in death, and Siiri holding her pistol trembling uncontrollably.

Hastily he clutched her arm, spinning the girl away from the grisly scene, “It’s all right…” he whispered and Siiri nodded in silence, swallowing hard. He left for a moment collecting his pistol and a couple magazines from Gregory’s corpse. Stepping back, he squeezed her shoulders, marching quickly to the nearest building, bursting through the broken door. Inside he settled her on a flight of stairs and examined his Con.  

“The shield killed them. I hope it got the rest of the squad.” Then peered over at the speechless girl, placing his arm back around her, “It’s all right, they’re dead. You saved me, you did wonderful.”

She coughed, holding back vomit, and stifled a sob, “I’m still shaking … his face, it just …”

“Try not to think about it. Listen, we have to move out. They’re probably moving up armour for the guns.” Then he assessed her condition, “Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so … but I feel like throwing up … and I peed my pants.”

“You’re first ground combat. Lots of trained marines suffer worse.”

“What about the other enemy marines?”

“Probably dead, but let’s not stick around, is there another way down?”

Siiri managed a weak smile when he took her hand, “I think there is a school nearby with an entrance underneath.”

He checked his Con, “Got it, just a couple of blocks over, let’s go.”

Both Siiri and the chocolate haired soldier cautiously peered around the corner of a small convenience store with cracked panel displays on the roof and saw no marines down the street. There were no armoured vehicles in the open near the tree line. Small bushes and weeds grew through the cracks in the road as they darted down the street towards the school building.

Panting nervously, Siiri leaned against the old cracked metal wall of the elementary school, “What was it like for your first ground combat?”

Glancing around the corner and holding his Con in one hand and gripping the black assault rifle in the other, Torian replied casually, “That was my first ground combat.”

“How can you be so calm?”

“I’m not, I need a beer.”

“You’re made of titanium, just like the song.”

“Not really, you have to be a marine for one tour before they give you titanium bone replacements. Come on, I think it’s clear, let’s go inside.”

“Oh … I didn’t know the song was literal.”

Creeping along the wall both Torian and Siiri hastily climbed up the steps through the broken glass double doors into the school. Inside they were met by over turned children’s desks and shards from holo terminals scattered on the floor. Through the old gym, long abandoned with a rotten floor marked with faded red and green lines for sports he followed Siiri as she led him to the custodian’s office.

“I remember hiking here to get some school supplies when I was a girl, our teacher took us on a field trip, guarded by the constable in case of wild animals.”

The tunnel was down a flight of stairs to a heavy steel door was locked from the other side so Torian had to blast it open with his pistol. After they descended he stopped, and then slumped to the ground with his back against the smooth corridor wall.

“Torian?”

“Just give me a moment,” he swallowed and she sat down beside him exhaling.

“Have some water,” she offered him her bottle from her belt.

“You first, I’ll drink it all,” she gulped down some water and handed him the silver container.

“I can’t believe we survived that, I thought we were goners.”

“Jarlan’s shield saved us. Those eyes, they really do look like demons.”

“Aye…” Torian inspected the assault rifle for the first time and removed a rectangular box similar in shape and size to his Con from a slot on the top. Then he took his Con and fit it in.

“You can put your Con there?”

“On rifles, yeah. Our Cons are more advanced then theirs, but the basic functionality of targeting still works and it’s easier to operate inserted like that. I couldn’t use his anyway; it was locked out with his DNA tag.”

Chapter 10: God of War

On their feet both young man and woman flicked on their powerful flashlights and strode down the tunnel. Torian attached his light to the rifle and aimed and studied his Con at the same time. After a good hour Siiri stopped at a branch that led to stairs.

“That’s where they took me.”

Torian glanced up and scanned the stairwell with his Con.

“Bones of all the others are scattered out there. I guess they’re all my cousins, or great aunts and uncles. Sometimes animals got them, or they just went crazy and killed themselves or died.”