First Casualty (3 page)

Which had probably been her first step on the way to being the platoon's sergeant. Cassie told her, after the vote,

We need a ma. You're the closest some of us will ever come to one.”

That had to be a laugh; Mary had never known her own ma or pa.

So, to keep her friends alive, Mary was here, getting ready to kill a lot of people in a war that didn't mean a damn. And when it was over, the only jobs open would probably be farther out in what was now enemy space. Why not do the job-hunting as prisoners of war? Mary checked; the digger burrowing under the plain was about four klicks out, halfway to the escarpment. “Hurry up, little mole. If they ain't using radios, your little wire patch may be the only way we can get a word in edgewise.”

Two

Senior Pilot Rita Nuu liked having Major Ray Longknife on her bridge. It hadn't always been so. He'd done a good imitation of a horse's rear end the first time he crossed her bridge coaming. As the senior woman in Wardhaven's attack transport squadron, she was used to male disapproval. It had taken her a while to realize that his attitude had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his beloved brigade. Once that was straightened out, she discovered she actually liked the guy. Love came later.

They had discovered, both on and off ship, that working together was far more fun than fussing. At the moment, Rita was putting the major's position to good use for her squadron. As usual, the admiral didn't think the transports needed to know boo. However, Longknife's access to the command net was displayed on her heads-up. It helped to know what the hell was happening.

To Rita's right, Junior Pilot Cadow had the conn; his hands showed white knuckles on the stick. Technician Hesper did double duty behind Rita, running the electronic countermeasures stations and communications. Ray rode the jump seat behind Cadow, his portable battle station linked with the
Friendship's
.

“The destroyers in the van are going in,” the major reported. “The
Dry Lightning
is low. The
Stormy Night
is high. Should have visuals and sensors sixty seconds before the cruisers start dusting down the crater.” Again Rita wished they had a cruiser attached to the transports. Setting down in that crater five minutes after the cruisers shot it up and two hours before they'd be back was not her idea of smart.

Rita eyed two data screens. One showed strung-out lights representing the gun line. The other waited for sensor data on their target.

* * * *

The rocket was old, and the dumbest of the dumb. In its nose was a tiny proximity fuse to tell it to blow up a few meters above the ground, scattering its plastic flechettes in a deadly cloud to puncture battle suits or thin-skinned vehicles. Today, the proximity fuse was disabled.

Today, it simply waited for the backup timer to tick away the seconds as its motors blasted at full power. The tiny brain did face a challenge, though. The weight distribution of the rocket was off. The simpleminded CPU had to adjust the rocket nozzles again and again until the missile took on a slight spin. The dumb control unit had not intended the spin, but it did make its job simpler.

The source of the rocket's problem, if it had been wise enough to seek out and solve problems, was a collar that had been added around its payload section. A thick cylinder of sand, barely held together by glue, covered the entire warhead.

Two of the rockets shed their dusty mantles. Three more could not solve the problems created by them and wandered off on their own track. None of them heard Commander Umboto's proud shout. “Crossbows away, Captain. Thirty-one running hot, straight and normal.”

* * * *

“What's that?” Rita and Ray asked at the same moment.

Hesper worked her board with quick, deft fingers. “Stealthy something, not well guided. They'll miss the destroyers by a wide margin. Doubt if the cans'll waste a shot on them.”

“Hope all their defenses are as shabby,” Rita prayed.

The first sensor reports came in—video of the crater. A couple of piles of ice stood out, but they looked like ship Armor that had been dumped there for later processing.

Give me some other scans,” The major breathed. “Infrared, electromagnetic. We can't go in there on visual alone.”

A new scan started working its way down the screen. Electromagnetic. Good,” the major smiled.

The picture went fuzzy, then turned to static.

“Hesper, get that back,” Rita ordered.

“No signal,” ECM answered.

“Fix it.”

“Can't, Skipper. It's not us. We got a beam from the flag, but it's just noise.”

“Is the
Dry Lightning
gone?” Cadow choked on the question.

Rita glanced at her display. “Everybody's still squawking.”

“Hesper, can you get me the flag's command net?” Longknife asked softly.

“Lurk on it regularly, sir.”

“Please put it on speaker,” the major requested. He never gave an order on Rita's bridge. If he wanted something, he went through her. Rita didn't begrudge him today's directness.

“Comm,” the admiral shouted from the speaker, “get me through to those tin cans.”

“No can do, sir, we got a brick wall ahead of us. No comm to or from them.”

“Sensors, what kind of brick wall?”

“Damned if I know. Those missiles that missed started exploding and suddenly we got dust and something else all over the place.”

“Gun squadron, begin acceleration at three gees. Now.” My, but the admiral was sounding a tad hysterical. “Transports.” Ah, the admiral finally remembered them. “Execute ...”

“What?” Cadow yelped.

“Signal lost,” Hesper reported.

“Can we accelerate?” Ray asked.

“We're in landing mode,” Rita answered. “Even if we go to three gees, we'll float over their base like target balloons.”

The major pursed his lips. “Set us down at Rosebud One.”

“Once grounded,” Rita nodded, “we can always launch out into the opposite orbit.”

Ray considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “Political officer would have my head on a platter.”

Rita snorted.

“And these folks have just landed. It must be a mess down there. I've got seven hundred combat veterans. What have they got? A mob that's never had a shot fired at them.”

“That's what the jollies tell us.” Rita spat the epitaph for political officers.

“We got to find out sooner or later who's right. If he is, I damn sure want to find out sooner. Land us at Rosebud One.”

“I've got the conn,” Rita snapped, taking the sticks back from Cadow. “Just once, Ray, I wish you'd let somebody else find out if the buzz-saw is unplugged. Just once.”

“Where can you set us down?”

“How close you want to be, grunt?”

“About thirty klicks from the pass,” Ray ordered. “It'll make for a short approach march. Put the transports safely out of range, and you can keep the rockets warm if we come running back and need a quick ride out of here.”

“Just make sure you come back.”

* * * *

Mary jumped when the infrared signals started screaming again. Six ships, rockets pointed her way, sunk over the horizon. “Landing force arriving,” she announced, ready to get to work. To do, as she had done every day of her working life, the job she was paid for.

She checked the digger; still not to the escarpment. They had to get a chance to talk to the colonials! But what do you say? They sure as hell hadn't included that in boot camp. She glanced at her board; she was ready to fight. That they'd taught her well. How do you not fight in a war when everybody else is?

* * * *

Grandpa always told Ray a soldier expects problems, and problems were staring Ray in the face the second he disembarked. His largest transport, the Loyal, stood at an angle, one landing gear in a crater. The right edge of the roll-off ramp was down the rest hung in space. Engineering platoon was rigging a derrick to offload the artillery the hard way.

The light assault teams of Companies B and C bounced buggies off their transports and went about preparing for as fast a start as Ray would have done when he commanded a company. Good people.

“Santiago.” Ray called up his exec. “Use A company for site security and to help the engineers. I'll move out with the vanguard. Get the heavies in D and E company moving as quickly as possible. I'll need artillery as soon as possible.”

“Right, sir” was all the answer Ray needed.

Ten minutes later, the light companies were mounted up and impatient to lead the charge. “Santiago, how soon can you give me artillery?”

“How about two rocket launchers right now?”

“You're a miracle man. Good luck.”

“Good luck yourself, and Godspeed. Give 'em hell. See you for supper tonight in one of the Earthies' luxury chow halls.”

“With real steaks and fresh potatoes.”

Longknife swung aboard C company's command rig as it passed and plugged himself into the brigade network. Security was guaranteed by the communication filament trailing out from the carrier to the command post back here. His orders would not be intercepted or garbled. Second Guard was experienced and ready. He couldn't help pitying the poor bastards up ahead.

* * * *

Mary followed the descending ships, handing them off to battalion, who in turn bucked them to brigade. As Mary lurked in the background, they ended up talking to a very angry Navy type, a Commander Umboto, who was pissed as hell that nobody had any long-range rockets ready to go.

“Miller, you store those coordinates and I'll go kick butt. If we can't get some rockets off the ground, my boot will damn sure get some lieutenants flying in that direction.”

The comm link went dead with a loud click, as if the commander had bitten off her mike. Damn, there were some real hard cases here. Mary wondered if they were tough enough to win. She checked her digger. . . almost to the escarpment. What would happen to Umboto if their platoon cut its own peace? She'd probably live through it. They all would. Come on, digger.

Mary called up her squad leaders: Lek, Cassie, Thu, Dumont , and Berra. “What's it look like?”

Cassie and Dumont were Mary's backup, neither willing to say who was primary. After a long pause, Dumont spoke first. The kid was subdued. “We're dug in. I guess we're ready.”

There was a beep. Mary focused on her heads-up. “Lieutenant, we got rolligons headed our way.”

“Thanks, Sergeant, I make out a dozen.”

Lek coughed gently to make himself known on net. If the LT was surprised to find a lurker, he said nothing. “Computer makes out ten wheeled vehicles spread out in the lead. Two columns with another ten coming up behind them. A tracked vehicle is pulling up the rear of both columns. Looks like another pair of columns about five klicks behind the first.”

“Corporal, put that through to my and the sergeant's heads-ups immediately.”

“Yes sir,” Lek answered.

“Sergeant, looks like we got two companies coming our way. The tracks are probably artillery of some sort. Damn, I wish we had rockets with longer reach than ten klicks.”

The regular issue was short-ranged. The LT knew nothing of what Dumont 's girls had gotten them. Just now, Mary wasn't ready to let him know what she had up her sleeve. He'd just want to start whopping the enemy sooner. Mary wanted to keep her hole cards back for a bit. Maybe, if nobody was hurt, nobody would have to be hurt. She checked the mole she'd sent across. It was at the escarpment, but making slow headway.

Mary adjusted a few of her sensors. When next she looked up, the enemy was at the escarpment, eight klicks away, rolligons scattered loosely. One man had dismounted and stared her way, taking in the gap and the rim around it. A gleam came off the fiber-optic cable streaming from his suit.

“Whatcha gonna do, man?” she whispered, hoping he wouldn't do anything until her mole could find his comm wire.

* * * *

Major Longknife studied the ground before him. Unlike the flat plain they'd just crossed, this was rolling and broken by boulders from the time of the creation of the huge crater, and small craters since. He'd walked similar terrain with grandfather, examining his defense of Goundo Pass Three on Yama-8. Grandpa had earned his colonelcy there. He'd also stopped just the kind of attack Ray was about to make.

Eyeing the ground with twenty years of training and experience, he liked what he saw. The plain, rim, and pass looked untouched since creation. He maxed the zoom on his suit binoculars. At the crown of the pass were footsteps. One set.

“So you had to see for yourself.” The man facing him was curious, or just needed to get personal with his battlefield, get past the vid and heads-up.

Good man. Longknife would use that against him.

The major called up his deployment on his heads-up. Two companies here. One coming up, heavier with artillery. Santiago was holding the last company back. He'd send them forward with the last of the heavy stuff. For a moment, Longknife cursed not having his command van with its full sensor suite. The XO had taken him at his order, artillery first. Still, it would have been better to have slipped the van in somewhere in the middle. Weight of salvo was good, but intelligence would be nice directing that salvo.

“Should have thought of that when I was giving the order.” Usually Santiago used his head better in reinterpreting his orders. Not today. Well, C company had recon assets.

“Tran, talk to me about that rim.”

“Sensors show standard-issue snoops and not much else. Well, we got something that might be a whiff of nitrogen, but it only showed for a second and we can't get it back. No hot spots. No dust. It's clean. We are picking up something underfoot. We've turned loose a counter-miner to hunt it down.”