All My Sins Remembered (10 page)

“Corpsman, I have an injured Marine here!  Stewie, assign a lifeguard!” Hawke ordered.  A lifeguard was a Marine whose sole job was to protect an item or person.  In this case, his charge was Nathan.  Within moments two marines in powered armor were there, one with a small red cross painted on each of the armor’s shoulders.  The corpsman took out what looked like a wand, with a wire that was plugged into his armor’s power systems.   It was a medical device capable of scanning someone's body and providing a digital readout on the corpsman’s HUD.  Waving his wand over Nathan’s ribs, the corpsman grunted.

“Bloody hell sir, how’re you standing?” The corpsman asked, though it was clear that he didn't expect an answer.  Grabbing a case attached to his thigh armor, the corpsman opened it, revealing a line of syringes.  Choosing one, he quickly and expertly injected the Commander.   “That should do it. It will take about twenty seconds.  It’s the best I can do until we get you back to the ship.  The Doc can fix you up, then.”  With that, the corpsman stood and walked back towards the main hall of the brig.  From one of the other cells in the brig, hollers could be heard, and one or two were pounding on doors.

“Corpsman, kick down the other doors and get our Marines out of there.”  Hawke ordered, then turned towards Nathan, who took
his first deep breath free of pain since he had been captured and nodded, signaling he was good to go.

“We haven’t found
Altihkova or Wittaker.  Do you know where they are?” Hawke asked, all business.

“Wittaker was killed. I’d imagine his body is in the ship’s morgue.  Tasha was being held right next door.  If she’s not there, she’s in the interrogation room, a couple doors down to the left.” Nathan answered.  Hawke’s faceplate flipped down and he brought up the schematic of the ship again.  Highlighting a room two doors down, he designated it as
a nav point and shared it with his fire team.  Having done that, he looked for probable locations for the ship’s morgue, which he found was towards the aft sections of the ship.  Raijan’s fire team was closer.  Using his helmet’s neural interface, he switched to the command coms channel with a thought.

“Black Star, this is Talon One. Status report.” Hawke ordered.  Black Star was the
Raijan's designation.

“Talon One, this is Black Star.  We are encountering heavy resistance.  One Marine critically wounded.  We are patching him up now in what looks to be a mess hall.” Raijan reported.  Anger twisted Hawke’s features into a snarl, but he knew there was nothing he could do at the moment.  Besides, Second Lieutenant Kemai excelled in small unit tactics.  He had utmost trust and respect for him.

“Acknowledged.” Hawke replied, then added, “Black Star, you have a new objective.  You are to retrieve one KIA in the ship’s morgue.  I’m sending you probable locations marked nav points four and five.  Bring him home.” Hawke ordered.

“Find KIA in the ship’s morgue and bring him home, aye-aye.” Raijan confirmed.  In the background of Raijan’s transmission, Hawke could hear a ferocious firefight, punctuated by a thunderous blast. 
Give 'em hell
, he thought.

“Sir, Special Forces!” Stewie’s voice yelled through the coms.  Hawke snapped back to the present as two Marines who had been guarding the corridor from the door to the brig both began firing their rail cannons, sending a hailstorm of projectiles down the corridor.

“Shredder!” Hawke heard one of the Marines yell.  There was a loud explosion, followed by the pinging sounds of small steel filaments bouncing harmlessly off powered armor.  Hawke made his way out of the brig and into the hall just in time to see one of his marines lob a plasma grenade down the hall towards two special ops soldiers wearing powered armor.  Backpedalling, the special forces soldiers tried frantically to duck back around the corner into the corridor as the plasma grenade exploded, sending the burning material of the sun spraying in every direction, melting the deck and bulkheads surrounding it to slag.  He heard one of the SpecOps soldiers scream as the armor around his arm melted away and immolated his arm.  His buddy grabbed him by his other arm, swinging the injured man around and behind him, presumably into the arms of a medic.  Hawke winced.  It would take a long time to replace that limb, if there was any bone left, that is.  Sometimes they could graft a titanium bone structure to replace lost bone, then use DNA regeneration procedures to grow the arm from there, but usually the operation cost too much to waste on a grunt.

Finally free of the attentions of the corpsman, who had injected them all with painkillers, Grobnak, Serms, and Delgato had broken open a weapons locker near the entrance of the brig, and were busy loading up.  Catching up with his freed fire team, Nathan grabbed a rifle as well, and started loading it.  Though he and his fire team were the worse for wear, and lacked the armor they came in with, they could help lay down a little firepower in a pinch.  Nathan checked the rifle’s action and chamber, and then loaded in a clip.  It looked to be a semi-automatic subsonic rail rifle.  It wasn’t the best of weapons, but it would still do the job.

“Moving two doors down. Rearguard action.” Hawke ordered as he moved towards the door in question.  Behind him, Nathan walked more easily, with his lifeguard following him closely.

Arriving at the door in question, Hawke saw that it was locked, and kicked it open as he did previously to Nathan’s cell door.  The armor enhanced his strength, one of the benefits of powered armor, and the door exploded inward after two kicks, but what Hawke saw gave him pause.  Lying on the floor, a bleeding, disheveled, and thoroughly beaten Tasha was laughing.  Next to her, her interrogator lay in a heap, bleeding from his mouth and obviously unconscious.

“Corpsman!” Hawke yelled, as he kneeled next to Tasha.  Slipping out his combat knife, made larger for easy handling in bulky, armored hands, Hawke carefully cut through Tasha’s bonds.  Tasha had stopped laughing, but now blinked as if unsure of whether or not what she was seeing was real.  The corpsman appeared, kneeling next to Hawke and waving his wand over her body, and shook his head in wonderment.

“No broken bones, though I don’t know how.” the corpsman reported, then got out another one of the syringes
similar to the one he injected Nathan with and pumped painkillers into Tasha.  Tasha groaned, but then stiffly climbed to her feet with Hawke’s help.  Hawke’s faceplate slid back, as he looked Tasha over to make sure she was going to be okay.

“Corpsman, you’re her lifeguard.” Hawke said shortly before sliding his faceplate back into place.

“Alright Marines, let’s make our exit.” Hawke said over the coms.

Ignoring the sweat sliding down his
cheek, Second Lieutenant Raijan Kemai's face was bathed in the soft glow of reds and greens from his HUD.  Thunder filled the mess hall as his Marines zestfully returned fire, and the ship’s annoying alarm klaxon screamed at them.  INTRUDERS! INTRUDERS!  Having an environmentally sealed suit of armor was both a blessing and a curse.  It protected you from a wide variety of dangerous environments, including the vacuum of space.  Unlike combat armor, powered armor often struggled to maintain a set temperature.  While the Marine inside was safe from temperatures that would kill him, it was always either too hot, or too cold.

Raijan tried to tune out the firefight raging all around him as he
absently used his suit’s neural interface to adjust his suit’s environmental systems to a colder temperature and studied the ship’s schematic.  Progress to the engine room had been slow as they had encountered heavy resistance from Spec Forces fire teams, and now he and his fire team were pinned down.  Beta two was on point when they had been caught in the open by a SpecOps heavy assault team in powered armor.  The opening blast from a heavy laser cannon impaled him, and melted some of the armor off two other Marines behind him as the laser grazed them, sending molten globs of metal to the floor.  They reacted quickly, grabbing a screaming Beta two and dragging him into a room, which happened to be the large mess hall they were now in, as someone else laid down heavy cover fire.

“Corpsman!” The corpsman pushed the Marine that had dragged
Beta two into the mess hall out of the way and began to work feverishly to try and save the wounded Marine, thrusting a sealer into the wound, and pushing a button.  The sealer released medical foam teeming with nanites.  While the foam worked to seal the wound, the nanites were injected into the Marine’s body and began an attempt to repair what damage they could.  Medical nanites were another modern medical miracle, capable of performing emergency procedures in a pinch, though in normal circumstances other medical methods were preferred, such as using a DNA regeneration and stasis chamber, but you can’t very well drag one of those massive things along with you on the battlefield.  Beta two’s breathing was rapid and shallow as he tried to catch his breath, and his lips began to turn blue as he went into shock.  The Corpsman swore under his breath.  He was losing him.

“Stay with me, Marine!” The Corpsman growled
as he quickly began to work on the injured Marine.  “You don’t die until I tell you to!”

“Sir, we can’t stay here!” yelled one of the Marines from the door. “They are going to use that heavy laser to start cutting right through the bulkheads!”  His GUA-
4X spooled up and spit out another storm of slugs, punctuating his statement.

“Corporal Bardaccio, mini down the corridor. Clear it out.” Raijan yelled over the coms channel.  He could sense Bardaccio’s hesitation before responding.  Using a mini-sun in such a confined space was dangerous, and he knew it.  A small supernova in such close quarters usually had catastrophic affects.

“Mini down the corridor, aye aye.” Bardaccio confirmed.  Bardaccio was the team leader of fire team Beta, the Heavy Weapons fire team of the squad, which carried both a heavy laser cannon and a nova launcher, used to launch mini suns.  His Marines liked blowing stuff up.  On an order from Bardaccio, Beta three stepped into the corridor as the nova launcher moved from its resting position on his back to flip up and rest on his shoulder.

“Mini has tone.  Firing.” Beta three reported.  The launcher hurled the mini, propelling it swiftly down the corridor, aimed at the feet of one hapless soldier in powered armor.  A split second later, the deck shook with the detonation as a mini sun about a quarter of a meter in diameter formed at the feet
of the soldier, punctuated by screams of horror and pain as soldiers either died or ran futilely for their lives.  The Marine that fired the mini dove back into the mess hall, and time seemed to slow.

“Cover!” Beta three yelled over the coms.  Raijan hit the deck. 
The corpsman paused in his ministrations to cover the wounded Marine with his body.  Bardaccio ran to one of the tables bolted to the floor and ripped it up and braced himself behind it, using it as a shield.  A scant second later, the power of the mini was released as the last of the small sun’s energy was expended as it went supernova, destroying everything in a twelve foot radius, ripping apart flesh and metal alike.  The entire ship shook, and the deck plating bucked and rattled.  Bardaccio was flung across the room to crash hard against the far wall as the table he was using as a shield buckled from the concussion.  Sliding to the deck, he lay motionless.  The blast also tore away some of the bulkhead separating the mess hall from the corridor outside, and crinkled the metal of the remaining bulkhead.  Shrapnel pinged off hot armor, sounding like metal rain.  All the Marines screamed, some to deny fear, others in exhilaration.

The stillness after the supernova was eerie
.  As Raijan picked himself up off the deck, the ringing in his ears began to subside.  Several ruptured conduits sparked loudly, and an ominous creaking sound permeated the ship in protest.  Smoke was thick in the air.  Switching to thermal, Raijan regain some vision as he looked around.  The sparking conduits showed brightly on his HUD as his helmet picked up its heat.  At some point during the firefight and ensuing explosion, the alarm klaxons had fallen silent, whether from the fact that its power source was interrupted, or as a result of someone finally getting tired of hearing it, Raijan did not know.  He heard the groaning of Marines over the general coms channel and, looking around, saw smoke rising from their armor.  His own armor blinked a "high heat" warning at him as its coolant systems worked overtime to bring it down to a safe level.  In that moment, they looked like gods of war, having just endured the fires of hell, and had somehow lived through it.

“Black star, sitrep!”  Raijan blinked a couple times, collecting his wits, as Hawke’s voice came to him over the command channel.  It took a few moments before he realized it was Hawke’s voice.

“I repeat, Black Star, sitrep!” Hawke’s voice came back.  Raijan stifled a groan as he stood himself up and looked around.  His Marines were still struggling to stand, having heavier, and less agile armor.  It looked like everyone was okay, even Beta three, who was trying to take off his helmet before Bardaccio clubbed him on his helmet hard enough to get through to the dazed Marine.

“Keep that helmet on, Marine!  What are you, still in boot?!  Shake it off!”  Bardaccio yelled.
  Marines were trained to keep their helmets on, no matter what.  Often the life support and information their helmets provided saved their lives.

“Talon One, this is Black Star.  Everything is five by five.  We cleared out a few opfor with a mini.”  Raijan reported.  His Marines were all on their feet now, except for the corpsman, who had resumed his work on his team mate, then stopped when he noticed that the Marine’s vitals had flatlined.  He had died while the mini detonated.  Leaning forward, the corpsman rested his helmet’s faceplate against the dead marine’s faceplate, as close as one could get to expressing grief in power armor, and then slowly sat back on his haunches and looked around.

“Beta two is on overwatch.” The corpsman reported in a husky voice.  It was a Talon tradition.  When a Marine was KIA, they are said to be on overwatch, a tactical position used for supporting and watching over the rest of their squad, usually from a vantage point far above theirs.  Everyone was still a moment, reluctant to move or break the silence.

“
Get Beta two out of his armor and set the suit’s sabotage unit.” Raijan’s voice broke the silence, and sounded loud in his own ears.  He wanted to grieve, but they had to move on.  No time.  Set the sabotage unit so that the enemy wouldn’t be able to salvage the suit or reverse engineer anything, and move on.  That is what it came down to, once a Marine went to overwatch.  It was always hard, but there was nothing you could do.

“Beta
three, secure the corridor.  Make sure all opfor is dead or out of action.”  Raijan ordered, regaining his stride.  “We need to get moving, Marines.  The longer this mission takes, the less likely its success.”  Using his neural interface, Raijan looked at where Hawke had placed the probable location to the ship’s morgue, and then sent it to fire team Charlie’s HUDs.

“
Beta three and Beta four, once you have Beta two taken care of, proceed to the objective.  Secure Talon KIA, and meet Beta One and I at the point of egress.  If you cannot make it to the point of egress, secure your own point of egress by whatever means necessary and proceed to the
Black Wave
. “ Raijan ordered.

“Proceed to objective, secure Talon KIA, and either meet at point of egress, or back at the
Black Wave
.  Aye aye.” Beta three, acknowledged.  Raijan watched a few moments as the corpsman carefully turned Beta Two onto his belly to get at the control panel on the back of the powered armor.  Typically, Marines stepped into the armor from behind, and it enclosed them.  Then, when he needed to exit his armor, he could simply do so by using his neural interface.  However, for situations like this, the manual controls had to be used to open the armor.  Any Talon Marine could open the armor by letting the scanner read his or her RFID chip.  If identified as a Talon, the armor would open for them.  If the scanner was broken, a physical key was needed, which every officer and fire team leader carried.  Raijan blinked a couple of times and took a deep breath, realizing he needed to keep moving.  Mourn later.

Stepping into the corridor, Raijan surveyed the destruction the mini had caused.  He was always amazed at how lethal these things could be.  The deck plating above and below the detonation point had simply vaporized, along with the surrounding bulkheads.  Further away from the point of detonation the deck plating had been peeled back, the force of the blast turning the structural beams below the
plating into blackened, twisted lumps of metal.  Raijan could see the deck above and below the deck his Marines were on, and could hear, in the distance, the shouts of repair crews as they tried to shut off power being sent through ruptured conduits, and shunt them to other conduits.  One floor must've had a water pipe running under it, for one pipe was spraying water everywhere.  Making note of the changes to the ship’s structure in his map allowed his suit’s onboard tactical computer to propose a new route to the ship’s engine room, which he sent to the rest of fire team Beta.  Running forward a couple steps, Raijan dropped down through the hole in the deck plating to the deck below them, followed quickly by Corporal Bardaccio.  They weren’t far from the engine room, but he suspected that it wouldn’t take long for the Rejaian Special Forces to regroup.

In the distance, Raijan could see a T intersection.  His mini-map on the lower right hand corner of his HUD indicated they needed to turn left.  As he rounded the corner to the left, an explosion picked him up and threw him like a toy in the opposite direction.  Raijan screamed wildly as he f
lew through the air, his helmet’s HUD buzzing in alarm as the readout of his armor indicated several points of impact, but no breaches.  With a roar, Bardaccio rounded the corner, gun firing.  Rejaian soldiers scrambled to get back while one brave soul leaped towards Bardaccio, brandishing an oversized combat knife.  Not having time to draw his own, Bardaccio swung the red-hot barrel of his cannon, slapping aside the man’s knife hand, and then placing his cannon directly against the man's faceplate before firing, making a mess of the corridor behind him as blood, brain matter, and bone sprayed.  The armor stiffened in rough facsimile to the soldier’s final convulsion, and the armor landed lifelessly on its back like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut.  The other soldiers had used that time to withdraw further down the hall, and duck into a room, using that for cover as they fired small rockets down the corridor to detonate against powered armor.  Bardaccio staggered, and nearly fell had he not steadied himself with a hand against the corridor.

“
Get a plasma grenade down there!” Raijan roared, finding his voice as he gingerly climbed to his feet.  He felt stupid for not being more careful about rounding a blind corner like that.  He knew better than that.  In his rush to get to the engine room, he had gotten careless and it had almost cost him his life.

“Stand clear! Stand clear!” B
ardaccio yelled as he lobbed a grenade.  A moment later an explosion signaled the fiery spray of plasma as soldiers screamed.  An explosion rocked the ship as the plasma found a tender spot in the ship’s guts. Raijan leapt forward past Bardaccio, and into the room, spraying slugs from his assault rifle as his HUD identified still active targets.  In moments it was over, and another SpecOps team lay still in their armor.

“Let’s keep moving.” Raijan said.

***

“I repeat, Blackstar, Sitrep!” Hawke yelled over the command channel.  His team had stopped and ducked into one of the rooms, a cargo room, and Marines covered each direction of the corridor when the entire ship seemed to shudder, and a muffled, rumbling explosion could be heard throughout the ship.  The silence afterward was the gasp after the storm, and Hawke feared the worst.  After his team had recovered the prisoners, resistance had been thankfully light.  If he had to guess,
he would say that Raijan had found heavier resistance as he and his team fought their way to the ship’s engineering compartment.  The ship’s commanding officers probably quickly realized the danger of them reaching the engine room, and had diverted their attention almost solely on them.