Battle Earth III

Chapter 4

The relatively short trip back over the battle lines was not the triumphant and celebratory experience Taylor had imagined and hoped for. Nobody said a word for the entire trip. Sugar’s body was placed on the seats beside them. Allen laid back and tried to ignore the pain he was in. He was at least helped by a powerful dosage of painkillers. But Taylor could see that Jones’ pain could not be numbed.

Taylor wanted to ask the Captain questions. So many questions he had rolled over in his mind. Now he didn’t have the heart to ask them. His exhausted and beleaguered friend lay back in his seat next to Walker’s body. Taylor no doubt realised that the two men must have forged a bond as strong as his and Charlie during their captivity, perhaps even more so.

Charlie Jones had been missing for just a matter of weeks, but he looked like a man who had spent years in the worst of conditions. His uniform was ripped and pierced. Taylor could make out slashes from bladed instruments and fresh scars beneath. He did nothing to hide the needle marks on his arms. The Captain was a proud man. He was a man who considered his image and steadfastness to be paramount in being a leader.

All of that was gone now. It had been replaced by a cold bitterness and a fear of what was awaiting him. He slouched back as if he was waiting for his own death and had come to accept it. Mitch wondered if he would ever get his friend back, or just a shell of a man who resembled him. When the copters finally touched down at the base they had left the previous evening, it was still in the pitch black of the night.

There was little relief at having returned to safety and having accomplished what they set out to do. When the door opened, and the ramp lowered, Taylor could make out a line of German military police. General Dupont was stood among them. It was a sight that made him sick. There was no welcoming party. No celebration of missing soldiers having been saved from a horrifying death.

The Major stepped out to face his fate with his shoulders slung low. He knew in his heart that he did the right thing, but the outcome was a long way from what he would consider ideal. Taylor knew from the moment they left the base, he would be placed on a charge even if the mission went exactly to plan.

Dupont rushed forward with his MPs as Taylor’s boots hit the ground. He was disgusted by the fact they had no respect for the fallen and those that had been saved. They encircled the ramp as the marines disembarked. Rains climbed out to stop in shock at the sight.

“What is this shit?” he exclaimed.

“Major Taylor, you are hereby placed under arrest and to be transferred to the on base detention facility, pending an investigation and judgement by General Schulz.”

“What the fuck!” shouted Rains.

He leapt from the copter and blocked the path between Taylor and the MPs.

“Just because Taylor, here, was the only one with the balls to get this done. You can’t arrest an American officer, anyway!”

“Major Taylor was placed under the joint European command and will therefore comply with any ruling we make.”

Rains tried to bellow out another argument, but Taylor interrupted him.

“Stop, Eddie.”

The pilot turned in shock.

“You can’t let this fly? This bullshit cannot stand!”

“I knew the price I would have to pay for this, and I have already accepted it.”

“That’s god damn bullshit!”

“We have a chain of command for a reason, Lieutenant. To challenge it, is to bring discipline crumbling down around us. Whatever price I pay, it will be little compared to what they have been through.”

He nodded in the direction of Jones and the other POWs. The weak Captain was hauling Walker’s body off the copter with the last of his strength. Dupont’s face changed to a look of utter shock as he stared at the gaunt figures.

“What the hell happened to them?” he asked.

He turned to Taylor for answers. The Major looked less than eager to explain. Dupont turned back to the MPs.

“Strip him of his weapons and armour, and take him away!”

He snapped back around and glared at the marines who looked on at him with a look of utter disgust and pointed at Silva.

“Sergeant, get these troops formed up!”

Parker stepped up to join them and wanted nothing more than to strike the General across the face. But she looked to Taylor and realised it was not the time. They had gotten themselves in more than enough trouble already. A medical crew rushed past the MPs to assist the rescued troops and take away the two dead and one wounded. Taylor watched as they were spirited away while he stripped off his equipment before his detainers.

The Reitech suit crashed to the ground as Taylor stepped from it and dropped his rifle. There was no more fight left in him. As he unclipped the last of his equipment, he turned to Silva who still ignored the General.

“Go about your duties, Sergeant. I’ll be in touch soon enough.”

The General hissed and sighed at the arrogance he perceived in Taylor. Mitch hated him with an even greater burning desire to strike him down. Silva turned and faced his men with a newfound confidence in defiance of the General.

“You heard the, Major. Form up!”

The MPs took up positions and led Taylor past the formed up platoon and away from the landing zone. Silva raised his arm in a salute that was quickly followed by the whole unit. Silva could feel the vehement hostility in the General without even looking at him. They had saluted a detained Major and not a General. Silva lowered his arm and turned his gaze to the General. He stared into his eyes as if asking for something from the man. The General sighed at the Sergeant’s lack of respect for his position.

“Under the command of the Joint European Defence Force, you are hereby ordered to lay down your arms and equipment. You are to be confined to your billets until further notice. Rations will be brought to you when needed, and you will not leave those billets under any circumstances. Any man or woman found to be in breach of these conditions, will find them following in your Major’s footsteps!”

The troops remained silent. Dupont knew that it was not out of respect for him. Finally, the Sergeant spoke up.

“Will that be all, Sir?”

Dupont coughed in surprise at the question. His face lit up in anger, but he knew there was nothing more he could do to the marines. Dupont nodded in agreement, turned and marched away to his vehicle, leaving the MPs to do their work.

“You heard the man. Lay down your weapons, and get some rest!”

It was an appealing thought but having to give up everything left a bitter taste among them. They could see trucks parked up nearby. Dupont was quite literally expecting them to remove their kit and hand it in, there and then. They began to strip off their weapons and armour and leave behind the exoskeleton suits which had done them such a good turn.

When Silva was done, he stood and waited for the last of them to lay down all that they had carried. One of the MPs stepped up to his side and spoke in a thick German accent.

“Your sidearm, Sergeant!”

Silva turned with an outraged expression.

“From my cold dead hands!” he snapped.

“You have your orders, Sergeant.”

“This pistol was a private purchase, as allowed by my rank.”

Silva spat on the floor beside the well-kept military policeman. He hated them in America as much as he did here, but at least his own people understood the law.

“This base is still US soil, is it not?” he asked.

The man nodded begrudgingly and could see the other marines becoming restless. He looked at the battle-hardened troops and sighed. Spineless bastard, thought Silva.

“Alright, NCOs may keep sidearms, but all other weapons, armour and associated issue equipment are to be removed!”

Silva smirked just a little. He enjoyed seeing how much it pained the MP to be told what’s what. He turned back to the platoon and barked his orders.

“Fall out and return to billets!”

It further exasperated the MP that the Sergeant was not marching the platoon across the base, but he was at his wits end. Silva had enjoyed torturing the man but now thought back to their losses both on and off the battlefield. Parker strode up to walk beside him.

“What do you think they are doing with the Major?” she asked.

She could guess pretty well as much as Silva, but could not help but ask.

“He’s in deep shit, no doubt. Schulz will want to make an example of him, and Dupont has lost face just as much. Nobody can doubt that the Major saved soldiers that should never have been left behind, but they will do everything they can do make him suffer.”

She sighed.

“What else could he have done? Left our people there to die?”

“Schulz works on numbers. He’s got dead and wounded back, and officers directly contravening his orders. As far as he is concerned, nothing good has come of this day.”

“Fucking asshole! If only I could get my hands on him.”

“You and me both.”

“What will become of us?”she asked.

“Schulz will put us on some shit duties until he realises he needs us. We’ll be alright.”

“And Taylor?”

He looked into her eyes and could see her worry.

“If anyone can wriggle out from this, it’s the Major.”

Four weeks had passed, and the Major had seen nobody but his guards. The dim-witted and obnoxious military police revelled in their power over a high-ranking officer. The fact that he was American made them enjoy it all the more. He resigned himself to little more than exercising in his cell and lying in a dream for the rest of it.

Schulz can’t leave me to rot forever. He hadn’t received any news from his guards. He knew that he hadn’t been moved, and so Ramstein had remained in human hands for all that time. It was some relief at least. But Taylor thought of his friends and his Company. What price were they paying for holding the line, and what crap had Schulz thrown them in to?

The more Taylor thought about his friends, the angrier he became that he was not able to be there for them. He tried his best to remain calm, but the sound of every vehicle and distant rumbling of artillery reminded him of them. Every night he was haunted by the hallowed eyes of Jones the last time he’d seen the Captain. He had long dreamt of getting his friend back, only to lose him again. They probably put him in a mad house, he thought.

Taylor’s calm snapped, and he leapt up from his bed. He rushed up to the bars of his cage and whaled on them.

“Get me the fuck out of here! Get me out! Get me out!”

Chandra sat at the bottom of a muddy trench on the south side of the base. The occasional artillery round screamed overhead, but the line had become oddly tranquil over the last day. She sat with a mug of tea, treasuring the moment. She leaned back and looked up into the bright blue sky where there was not a cloud in sight.

Looking into the warm sky, she could forget for just a few moments about the desolate landscape around her that had been ravaged by the war. Few trees stood that were not blackened and burnt. The roads had been smashed by artillery until the concrete and mud beside it mixed into almost uniformed rubble.

The defences of the base consisted of miles of trench works and bunkers. They were the only cover that would be erected in time. She could hear footsteps squelching towards her. The floorboards could only stave off the worst of the rain that rarely let up for more than a day or two. The footsteps were light. Gone were their Reitech suits.

They were reduced to the same frightened troopers that huddled underground and prayed to only tackle the enemy in vastly superior numbers. They were nothing compared to their enemy, man for man. Friday strode into view with a smile on his face. He rarely showed any dismay or sadness. Perhaps he hid it well, she thought.

“Major, we’ve just been sent a request for a platoon to fetch and carry.”

She shook her head in disbelief.

“Will it ever stop?” she sighed.

“The General will get bored of punishing us eventually, I’m sure.”

She turned and looked into his face to see if he really believed what he was saying. Friday always seemed so convincing that it was hard not to believe him.

“Relay the order and have a platoon get on it.”

Friday turned to leave, but Chandra interrupted him.

“Captain, there’s no rush…”

He turned around to see she was offering him a mug of tea. He smiled politely. Chandra could see he’d wished it was coffee, and that made her grin.

“All these years, and we still can’t civilise you into the finer things.”

He took the mug and sat down beside her. He sighed as his body creaked from being on his feet.

“Any news from the US?”

“Bits and pieces, but you probably know more than me.”

“Na, my intel dried up a long time ago. You probably hear more around the mess than I get at briefings.”

“Then there ain’t a lot to say. Most of the major cities on the eastern seaboard are rumoured to have gone, and they’re now dug in like us.”

Chandra sipped back on her tea. They’d seen plenty of action the last few weeks, but nothing that came close to the seat of your pants fighting when Taylor was still around.

“You miss him, don’t you?” asked Friday.

She smiled.

“Not in that way, Captain. Life was a whole lot more interesting with Taylor around. We were always at the forefront of the fighting, and we were making a difference every day. What are we now? Reduced to line duty. We’re better than this, all of us, and wasted because a General got pissed off.”

“Would you take it back? I mean, Taylor’s mission. Would you have stopped him, having known what you do now?”

She shook her head.

“No, never! We had a responsibility to the comrades that had been lost. If the General couldn’t see that, then that is his weakness, not ours.”

“I hear it caused quite a stir among the Commanders, sounds like he didn’t get off lightly either.”

“That more scuttlebutt, Captain?” she asked.

Friday chuckled at her awkward usage of his services slang.

“No, Ma’am.”

Chandra took some pleasure in the news. She’d heard as such herself, but it was nice to have it confirmed. Schulz should never have forced Taylor and herself into the situation. But with Commander Phillips gone, she had little influence or ways of changing their lot.

“Word is that the Reitech suits are out for issue, reckon we’ll see ‘em anytime soon?”

“Fat chance, Schulz will make it his mission to ensure that we never see such hardware again. He wouldn’t want us to actually make any progress in this war?”

“Asshole.”

She nodded in agreement.

“Our time will come again, Captain. We can’t have come all this way to be relegated to the bench. The war is far from over, and we’ll be needed soon enough.”

A runner came hurtling down the trenches towards them. Monty appeared from around a corner and came to a quick halt in front of them.

“Ma’am, orders from command. They want a platoon to join a scouting party to the west.”

“Why the urgency, Private?”

“Orders, Ma’am.”

“Alright, relay them to Lieutenant Yorath, and have him follow out the orders.”

Friday turned to the Major.

“It’s alright, I’ll do it. Yorath’s been through enough shit. My platoon will handle it.”

She nodded in gratitude for his kindness.

“Alright, Captain. You want it, you got it.”

The heavy brig doors creaked along the corridor. Taylor knew the guards’ routine. The only reason for their presence now would be to bring in a new prisoner, or escort one out. He didn’t flinch from the position he lay in his bed. He’d been given nothing to read or to work his mind. Weeks passed with nothing to do but contemplate and replay recent events in his mind.

The sidewalls of the cell meant he could only see one other of the cages opposite him, but it was empty. He heard the wails of a few other prisoners held there, but they were mostly soldiers who had lost their minds. Four sets of footsteps approached. In his stay there, the Major had only ever heard two or three approach at any one time. He could already guess that their presence related to him.

As the steps got louder, the Major sat up in his tiny bed and rested back against the wall. He remained calm and slouched. He would never give those who detained him the satisfaction of feeling he was at their beck and call.

Two guards came into view and placed themselves either side of the barred door. General Dupont and his assistant strode up to the entrance and halted quickly at the bars. The Frenchman stared in at the Major with curiosity but made no request for the door to be opened. The four men stood before the bars of his cell as if waiting for his move.

“Can I do something for you gentlemen?” Taylor asked.

He knew that it infuriated the guards that he treated them like slaves. They rarely knew whether to treat him as an officer or a prisoner. They all knew that if he ever got out, and was cleared, he would make them suffer for any ill treatment.

“Major Taylor, you are well aware of the reason for your arrest and detainment,” exclaimed Dupont.

“Yes, what of it?”

“I am here to inform you that you will face a military tribunal at some date in the future and that it may become plausible and realistic to do so at a time…”

“Get on with it, General.”

Dupont sighed.

“Your blatant disregard for authority and reckless behaviour has already cost you your command and the lives of more than a few of the soldiers you had a responsibility to.”

Taylor strode up to the bars quickly with a furious expression on his face. He had tried to remain calm during his imprisonment, but the French General made him sick.

“What the hell would you know about responsibility? You saw your country fall and sent armies to the slaughter!”

Dupont smiled with a wicked grin. It amused him that Taylor was behind bars. He could see the hatred that burned inside Taylor. Both men knew that Mitch wanted to tear the General apart. He turned and paced away from the door. He knew there was no way to air his frustration. He finally stopped and turned near his bed.

“At least tell me the status of my Company, and of Captain Jones.”

“They are not your Company, Major. They are our Company, under the Joint European Command. The fact you could not get that into your head is the very reason you stand in that cell today.”

“Please, General, just tell me how my people are.”

“As a result of your actions, they have been removed from the Reiter programme, and they’re out there doing their job.”

“You mean they’re getting fucked because of this.”

“They are paid to do their job, which is to follow orders.”

“What have you come here for, beyond torturing me with useless bullshit information?”

Taylor couldn’t take it any longer. He’d longed to have someone to talk to, but Dupont was the last person he had in mind. He wondered if he’d ever get out of his cell, of if he’d be left to the mercy of the enemy like Jones was.

“General Schulz requested that you be officially informed of your status.”

“What status? You’re leaving me here to rot when there is a war to fight!”

Dupont smiled, turned and walked away from the Major. It infuriated Taylor that he still knew nothing more about his comrades. Dupont isn’t a real soldier. He’d understand if he was, thought Taylor. He suddenly became overwhelmed by the thought of being left to the enemy. The gaunt body of Jones, and the empty look in his eyes, were burnt into Taylor’s mind. He leapt to his feet and thrashed himself against the bars.

“Don’t leave me down here, General! You need me!” he yelled.

He could just see the back of the General and the guards as they continued to walk away, as if they had not even heard him. He smashed his hands against the cell bars in a desperate attempt get their attention, but it made little difference.

“Fuck!” he screamed.

Taylor knew that Dupont and Schulz were bastards, but he never imagined they would be so evil. Schulz is going to ruin the Company. God help them if any harm comes to Chandra and the others. He paced back to his bed and slumped down onto the hard and uncomfortable mattress. He felt utterly lost. Being locked up was bad enough, but knowing his friends were being led by such murderous bastards was too much to bear. This can’t go on forever, I have to get out!

“Have you seen these co-ordinates, Captain?” asked Silva.

Friday looked up with a grim expression. He knew exactly the meaning of the Sergeant’s query.

“We have our orders, Sergeant.”

Silva took several quick steps to come up beside the Captain and out of earshot of the platoon who were checking and readying their equipment.

“A scouting party three clicks east for an engineering company to get to work, and two clicks back. We might as well walk towards their guns.”

“Dupont wants us to start gaining ground and moving our positions forward. They will work under the cover of the main lines while we are there to give a heads up in case of any trouble.”

“Sir, a few dozen of us with this old kit in no man’s land. Tell me that isn’t suicidal. Tell me this isn’t a death sentence to punish us.”

Friday knew that the Sergeant was right, but he also knew there was little to be done about it.

“What am I to do? We follow the chain of command.”

“Major Taylor didn’t,” snapped Silva.

“And look where it got him.”

Friday sighed. He hated his current position.

“Look, I am not saying what the Major did was wrong. I would have done the same in a heartbeat, but if we want to get him back, we need to pave the road for his return. Schulz is not beyond punishing all of us for a single deed.”

Silva spat on the ground beside him. He was utterly disgusted by their leaders.

“Why the fuck are we fighting for such assholes?”

Friday continued to check his weapon over and answer the question as the Sergeant became angrier. His heavy breathing over the Captain finally forced Friday to look up and answer.

“We aren’t fighting for them, Sergeant. We are fighting for ourselves, and for each other and every poor bastard on this world who can’t fight for themselves. The masses wouldn’t stand a chance. So we have to deal with obnoxious Generals. How is that any different to any other period in our history? There are some damn fine officers in this army and some damn bad ones.”

“Army, thought we were marines, Sir?”

“We are whatever we need to be. We live in the most uncertain times that anyone has ever known. We can keep fighting against each other, or we can move forward to take the fight to the invaders. The time will come when the brass will remember how much they need Taylor.”

Silva nodded as he took in what the Captain was saying. He had let his anger over the Major’s detainment cloud his judgement and deter him from the tasks at hand. Friday could see in Silva’s face that the Sergeant was beginning to come to his senses.

“You have been the best NCO I have had the pleasure of serving with, Sergeant. Your cool headedness and efficiency has kept us alive through the worst of it. Stay the course. Do exactly as you have been doing, and we’ll be fine, as will the Major.”

“Yes, Sir,” he replied.

Friday could see some relief in the Sergeant’s face. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he had calmed substantially. Friday was just as frustrated at the Major’s imprisonment as any of them. They had been best of friends from just a few months after enlistment. A German soldier rushed up and stopped to speak with the Captain.

“Sir, the engineers are ready to move forward, ready when you are.”

Friday turned to Silva.

“Be sure the platoon is ready to leave, Sergeant. We go in five.”

“Ma’am, is it correct that Captain Friday has been sent out over the top?” asked Yorath.

She nodded with a sullen and begrudging expression.

“Did his platoon get the Reitech gear issued?”

Chandra shook her head.

“What? They were sent out there with fuck all? No armour, no decent gear. Who the hell gave that order?”

She continued to look out into the ruined wastelands that stood between their lines and the enemy.

“This is yet more punishment isn’t it? Schulz can’t get over Major Taylor’s rescue mission?”

“I thought that much was clear weeks ago, Lieutenant,” she replied.

“Fuck sake. When is he going to start thinking like a soldier and not like a selfish bastard?”

She smiled. It amused her that the young officer was surprised at the General’s response.

“How could it ever have been any different, just because Taylor did the right thing? There are consequences to every action. Taylor knew that, as did we all. I will happily pay any price Schulz can levy at us, in knowing that we left no one behind.”

“If only I could get my hands on that bastard! Taylor should be running this army. We’d be half way across France by now.”

Chandra turned in surprise.

“Careful what you say, Lieutenant. Even the suggestion of such could be enough to warrant you a cell opposite the Major.”

“Fuck it, I don’t care anymore. We have done nothing but our very finest to fight this enemy. We have given everything, and Taylor more than anyone. How can anyone lock him away now? This army needs him!”

Chandra said nothing and continued to stare into the distance. The plain before them was largely flattened by the weeks of brutal combat. The twisted wrecks of armoured vehicles of both sides littered the ground and fallen burnt trees lay among them. Finally, she turned to Yorath with a smile.

“You’ve still got me, Lieutenant.”

Friday advanced cautiously across the uneven ground. The shelling of the area had created huge craters in the terrain. They made slow progress weaving in and out of debris and clambering up and over the ruined fields. The German engineer crews had already got to work behind them. They could make out other similar scouting parties far off in the distance.

“The General must be trying to advance the whole line,” whispered Silva.

“You didn’t think it was just us, did you?” replied Friday.

Silva smiled. They both assumed they’d been given a uniquely shit mission.

“Nice to know we aren’t the only ones on the shit list, hey?” Silva jested.

They continued onwards as ordered through the rubble of no man’s land until they could no longer see the other scouting parties on their flanks. The barren wasteland that had been the battleground for Ramstein was over two kilometres wide. The humans recovered their wounded where possible, but the Mechs seemed to care little for their casualties.

The bodies of the invaders were scattered across the ruined land amongst torn apart vehicles. The heavy artillery on either side had reduced much of what attempted to cross it to little more than shrapnel. A few metres away, Captain Friday could see a French soldier’s helmet and half of a weapon, but there was little sign of any body.

“Jesus, this place is like a fucking scrap yard,” whispered Silva.

The cool wind had carried away much of the foul stench that had inhabited the battlefield, but it couldn’t make the air fresh or barely more than tolerable. Silva could see a Mech that had been torn in half and bled out while still in its armour. Its blue blood had dried and hardened to an almost black oily texture.

The soldiers had been through hell, but never had they inhabited the same battlefield for such a prolonged period. They hadn’t ever had to awaken to the sight of sheer destruction every morning. Friday caught the sound of a craft darting across the sky, and he looked up in surprise to see a small plane flash across at high speed. He could just make out the shape as a Eurofighter XB. A split second later, an enemy fighter blasted past on its tail.

Friday and several of the other marines looked up to see the enemy fighter fire on the XB and blast it out of the sky. Just seconds later, the sky erupted with anti-aircraft fire and punched gaping holes in the enemy fighter. It plummeted to the ground in a burning rage. Friday shook his head in sadness. He knew the German plane would have been gathering essential information.

“You can’t doubt their courage,” said Silva.

Friday nodded in agreement. The air war had become an unusual occurrence in the last week, as if both sides had simply lost too many craft or pilots to keep up the effort.

“I guess it’s down to us to slug it out now, like we always have,” mused the Sergeant.

“Let’s move out,” replied Friday.

It was a sad sight to see one of their planes brought down. The Captain could already feel his platoon had taken a knock to their morale, which was already low since being ordered on their mission. Up ahead, they could see the forest growing nearer; they hadn’t got that near in weeks. They’d watched the tree lines with a keen eye every day, wondering what lay beyond them.

Friday was suspicious as they approached, more so than should be expected. He knew the enemy positions lay some way ahead, but the utter tranquillity made him nervous.

“Keep alert,” he whispered.

The platoon’s pace slowed as they closed the distance until they reached the rim of the forest. Friday was astonished they’d made it without incident, and a fact which made him all the more suspicious.

“Fan out, we hold here for twenty minutes.”

“Sir, aren’t we supposed to be scouting these woods?” asked Silva.

“Walking around until we find trouble? Fuck that, I’m not getting any of these troops killed because some General has a gripe.”

Silva smiled. He knew Friday always had their best interests at heart. The Captain was like the little brother of Major Taylor. He had all the strength, courage and leadership of their former leader. They lay in wait for the twenty minutes, but it felt more like half the day. Finally, Friday stood up and stretched his aching knees, leaning over to Silva.

“Pass the word. We head north along the forest edge, three metre spacing.”

A minute later, the platoon arose and continued their trek onwards. Just five minutes after they had set off, a volley of light pulses flashed through the trees to their west. Friday had just enough time to shout before the impacts struck.

“Incoming!”

Friday and Silva hit the ground as the first pulses erupted. The three above them burst with an ear-splitting explosion, sending foliage smashing down over their bodies. Friday’s head was smashed into the mud by the weight of a falling branch. Only his helmet and the soft ground saved him from being crushed.

He shrugged off the branch and turned in the mud to see the status of the platoon, as fire continued to rain down on their heads. He could make out the body of one dead private already, and could only imagine the injuries he couldn’t see from his position. He could hear screams of pain and calls for the medic running down the line, but they were going unanswered.

The Captain got up onto one knee while huddling behind a thick three trunk to get a better view of their surroundings. He could see at least a dozen Mechs firing on their position and knew there would be more closely behind. He turned back to Silva and bellowed his orders.

“Fall back. Fighting withdrawal!”

Silva nodded and quickly relayed the command at twice the volume the Captain could manage. The two men got to their feet and quickly returned fire with their weapons. The ineffectiveness of their old battle rifles was a painful experience after living Reiter’s weaponry. Friday hit one of the Mechs with eight shots to the faceplate but did not penetrate. He ducked back behind cover, firing another burst into the same target zone and finally broke through, killing the creature immediately.

Now in a standing position, he could fully see the damage around them. There was only one dead marine but five wounded.

“Get those wounded out of here now!”

Several of the platoon rushed to the aid of their fallen comrades, hauling them onto their shoulders and beating a hasty retreat. Friday turned back around to train his rifle on another target but realised that a pulse was soaring towards him.

“Captain!” shouted Silva.

It was too late. The pulse smashed into Friday’s chest and blew a hole through his torso. Silva could only watch in despair as the officer’s body went limp and tumbled to the ground. He watched for only a second and turned to the platoon, repeating the Captain’s orders. He rushed forward to Friday’s body. He prayed the Captain had survived, but he already knew there was no hope.

Smoke rose from Friday’s webbing where it had been burnt by the pulse. He turned the Captain over to see the last light in his eyes fade before he could get out his last words.

“Fuck!” Silva shouted.

He got up, hauling Friday’s body onto his shoulder as if it was nothing at all. His hatred of the enemy would not allow him to leave the body of their Captain at the mercy of the enemy. He turned and rushed from the scene at a jogging pace. As he ran, he could see a number of the marines turning and giving covering fire.

“Forget it! Run! Run!”

Seeing the body of their officer across Silva’s shoulders, they didn’t need much encouragement to follow their Sergeant in fleeing outright. They had done little that day and were full of energy. The platoon scarpered across the rough terrain of no man’s land, knowing their lives depended on it. After half a kilometre, the Sergeant finally stopped and looked back. He’d noticed the enemy guns had stopped firing. Corporal Hall rushed up beside Silva and turned to investigate what he was glaring at.

“They’ve stopped?” he asked.

“They know it’s suicide to cross those lines, just as we knew it.”

“Then why the fuck are we out here?”

Silva shook his head in astonishment.

“Two fine marines were thrown away because of one man’s attitude problem. I’ll be damned if I’ll let there be another.”

Hall nodded in agreement.

“This shit has got to end. We have to get back into the fight for real, and we need our gear back. We need our Major back!”