Authors: Victor Gischler
There would be two boarding parties. Since men and women with combat experience were in short supply, I’d been asked to lead one of the parties. A grizzled sergeant with a face carved from mahogany would lead the other one.
“I wish we had a company of fully augmented shock marines,” Ashcroft had told me. “Wish in one hand and shit in the other. See which one fills up first. Am I right? So look, here’s the best I could do. We need people on the team who can fly the ship once we capture it, but I want to make sure they’ve at least held a weapon since basic. I did the best I could. In a ship-to-ship battle, I’d put my people up against anyone else in the galaxy, but hand to hand? Well, they’re not trained for it. That’s why I need you.”
“I’ll take them in,” I’d assured him. “Don’t worry.”
He would worry.
So now I stood in my quarters, trying not to sweat too much in the battle armor. Meredith helped me cinch the straps in the back and buckle the seals. In a pinch, the armor could double as a short-term pressure suit.
“Loosen up, okay?” She slapped me on the back. “If anyone can do this you can.”
“Yeah.”
She slapped my back again. Harder. “I’m serious.”
I forced a laugh. “You said you were going to tell me about the metal disc on the side of your head.”
“My attempt to be helpful,” she said.
“Helpful to who?” I asked. “The Reich? I thought you weren’t a fan.”
“Well, I mean, it’s different now, isn’t it?” she said. “With aliens on our doorstep, humanity needs to stick together. Anyway, you’d be surprised how useless a spoiled heiress is on a battle hulk in the middle of a war. I don’t want to be dead weight while the most important events in history are going on all around me. I had an implant, and now I’m downloading a lot of training. Takes hours, instead of weeks.”
It was like she expected me to say something encouraging, or approving, but I couldn’t quite manage it. All I could think of was Mueller telling me we were all becoming machines.
My door chimed.
Saved by the bell.
“Come in.”
Cindy started to enter, stopped short when she saw Meredith.
“Oh. I don’t want to interrupt.”
“You’re not,” Meredith said. “I was just about to leave.” She started to move, and paused. Looked at Cindy, then back at me, then threw her arms around me, kissing me so hard she mashed my lips painfully against my teeth.
She pulled away and said, “Don’t die, okay?” Then left without another word.
“I’m sorry,” Cindy said again. “I thought you were alone.”
“Stop being sorry. What can I do for you?”
“Just wanted to deliver the same message she did, I guess. About not dying. You already saved me once. I’d like you to live long enough for me to pay you back.”
“I’d like that, too.” And I wanted to gather her in my arms and kiss her hard and keep kissing her until the rest of the galaxy went away and it was just us. But then she’d be like any other girl I’d kissed, and I didn’t want that because that would mean I was the same too, and the idea I couldn’t be a better version of myself disgusted me. I didn’t know what would happen, if I would come back in one piece. If I did, then I’d consider it all again, consider
her
again, and reconsider myself. “Come on. Walk with me.”
We headed for the hangar bay. I was in a combat frame of mind and took long, determined strides, helmet under one arm, every muscle taut for action. Cindy almost had to jog to keep up.
We stopped at the door to the hangar bay, and I turned to her.
“This is as far as you go.”
“Please come back,” she said. She stood on tiptoe and kissed me on the cheek. I looked in her eyes for a long time, not even sure what I was searching for.
“I’ll be back. I promise.”
And then I boarded the shuttle with the rest of the doomed idiots.
* * *
“I’m going to go over the plan,” Ensign Poppins told the boarding parties in the hold of the shuttle. “But first I want Sergeant Kolostomy to do a weapons check and brief you on any of the equipment you might not be familiar with. Sergeant?”
All eyes shifted to the mahogany-faced man with the crew flattop. The expression on his face said he’d just sucked a lemon full of broken glass. “You’re probably wondering how you useless bags of crap are going to execute this bullshit plan and come out alive on the other side.”
Poppins held up a finger, and Kolostomy shot eye daggers at her.
“Actually, Sergeant,” Poppins said. “A number of the people here are junior officers, and technically your superiors.”
The sergeant grinned, teeth like buttery piano keys. “Yes, ma’am. That’s absolutely true, ma’am. If you like, we can review etiquette and practice saluting each other, instead of going over the information that might keep these people from getting ass-raped by giant wads of snot before being flushed out an airlock. Ma’am.”
Poppins cleared her throat.
“I… uh… carry on, Sergeant.”
Kolostomy glared back at the rest of us. “I am Master Sergeant Hamfast F. Kolostomy. The F stands for Fuck You.”
He turned to the nearest trooper, an ensign who looked like he was twelve.
“What’s that F stand for?” he asked, turning away.
“Fuck You, Sergeant.”
Kolostomy wheeled on him. “What the fuck did you just say to me, you sassy-mouthed turd?”
The kid went pale. “But… you said…”
“Drop to the deck and give me a million,” Kolostomy bellowed.
The kid went down and began doing pushups as fast as he could.
Kolostomy turned back to the rest of us. “In the last forty-eight years, I’ve fought eleven wars for the Reich. I’ve had every major organ replaced and have been shot and stabbed and burned with every weapon invented by people or aliens, so when I tell you that you’re going to live through this, you had better by God believe me. Is that clear?”
The assembled troops muttered among themselves, as if trying to reach a consensus if the sergeant’s claim was clear or not.
“I asked if that was clear, you maggots,” Kolostomy bellowed.
“CLEAR, SERGEANT!”
“Here’s the secret,” Kolostomy said. “This is the nifty little trick that will keep you alive. You won’t even have to write it down. It’s so simple that even you brainless tenderfoot useless jackwads will be able to remember.”
They all waited breathlessly.
I was curious myself.
“I hereby absolutely forbid you stupid dipshits to die,” Kolostomy said, “and you dumb fuckers can consider that an
order
. The corpse of anyone who disobeys this order will be court-martialed, and I will
personally
come find your sorry asses in the afterlife, gouge out your eyes with my thumbs, and fuck the empty eye sockets. Is that what you want? To stagger around the afterlife blind and eye-fucked?”
No muttering this time—clearly nobody was eager for such a thing to happen.
“I asked if that’s what you wanted,” Kolostomy shouted.
“NO, SERGEANT!”
The kid doing the pushups had slowed considerably. Kolostomy kicked him in the ass. “Get the hell up. You can give me the rest later.” To all of us he said, “Now how many of you have never worn this kind of armor before?”
Almost every hand went up.
“Son of a bitch, I’ve seen more intelligent kernels of corn in my shit. Listen up.” He went on to explain the basics, stuff I already knew. The armor would stop most small-arms fire and a number of laser and other energy blasts before overloading. Still, it was a good idea to avoid getting shot at all. He went over the weapons, the exploding tips for the ammo, and the laser cutlasses.
“Just look sharp, and stay together,” he concluded, sounding almost human now. “We all watch each other’s backs and get our jobs done, we’ll be just fine.” He indicated Poppins with a nod. “All yours, Ensign.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.” Poppins fixed us with a hard stare, or at least she did her best. After the storm of Sergeant Kolostomy, Poppins’s attempt at a tough expression just made her look gassy.
“This is the sector of space we’re approaching now.” She gestured at a 2-D monitor affixed to the bulkhead next to her. “There’s a small moon next to a gas giant, and on that moon is a Coriandon supply routing station. In other words, supplies come from the home world to this moon, and are then diverted via freighter to wherever the supplies are needed. Our objective is to commandeer one of these freighters, and then overload the engine in order to collapse a wormhole. The admiral will be coordinating our run at the wormhole. For now, we’re just focusing on getting the freighter.”
A hand went up.
Poppins said, “Yes, Weinstein?”
“The Coriandon supply line will surely be guarded,” Weinstein said. “I notice we have a zip ship along as an escort. Is that going to be enough to cover our assault?”
“The zip ship isn’t along to provide cover,” Poppins said. “We’ll get to that in a minute. This entire operation depends on precise timing.”
Poppins had already explained this to me, and I wasn’t optimistic. I watched the faces of the others for reactions as she unveiled her scheme.
“The Coriandons have two battle fleets that they intend to send through two different wormholes to attack Mars. One of the wormholes is too far away for us to do a damn thing about it. But the closer wormhole, the one in this sector of space, well, that’s a different story. They’re sending almost every ship they have in this sector to that one.” She made a big circular motion with one hand, indicating the area on the monitor.
“That means they’re leaving only an undersized battle group in the territory behind them to respond to threats. The Coriandons are counting on a small handful of gunboats to patrol the entire area. They’re spread thin.
Very
thin.”
“They don’t feel it’s much of a risk,” I said. “The admiral told me he’s been fairly successful at playing hide-and-seek with the Coriandons. They don’t even know we have a fleet in the area.”
“He’s right,” Poppins said. “As far as the aliens know, all Reich fighting ships have withdrawn to defend Mars. That’s one of the reasons we’re moving so fast. At the moment we have surprise on our side, but who knows how long it will last.”
“Not long, if the supply station radioes they’re being attacked.” This comment from the kid who’d been doing the pushups. “That’ll bring the gunboats down on our heads pretty fast.”
“And
that’s
why we have a zip ship tagging along after us,” Poppins said. “At the last second before our assault, the zip ship will put a couple of missiles into their communications relay buoy. Eventually they’ll realize they’re no longer getting a signal, but by then we’ll have done our job.”
She swiped the monitor screen, and the display became a schematic of a Coriandon cargo freighter. It wasn’t what you’d call a pretty vessel. The whole thing was basically a box the length of a couple football fields, with an enormous engine attached to the rear end and a dome up front for the bridge.
“About thirty years ago, the Reich captured a Coriandon freighter that drifted across the line into our territory,” Poppins said. “Intelligence suggests it’s doubtful the design has changed much, since it’s a simple ship for a simple purpose, and all of their innovation goes into their warships.”
She tapped the screen, and the display zoomed in on a topside hatch located at the center of the ship.
“The shuttle will land over this hatch. We’ll lock with it, and a small charge should be enough to blast our way in.” She changed the display again to show us a wide corridor within the ship. “This is the main corridor that runs the entire length of the vessel. This is where our teams split. Sergeant Kolostomy’s team will head forward to take the bridge. Agent Sloan will lead me and my team aft to the engine room, where I’ll rig the engines to blow.” She nodded to me. “Agent Sloan?”
“We’re not expecting combat troops,” I said. “If we’re lucky, we might even catch them as they’re rotating crews, so maybe there won’t be so many on board. But I never count on luck, and combat troops or not, the bastards will find some weapons quickly enough once they realize they’ve been boarded. The plan is the same for the engine room boarding party as it is for the bridge boarding party. There is only one door in and out of each area. Seal the door and hold it. The blobby sons of bitches will only be able to get at you one at a time, and they’ll lose enthusiasm after you scatter a few with exploding ammo.” I turned to Kolostomy. “Sergeant, you have the most combat experience of anyone here. Anything to add?”
“You’ve got to move fast, fast, fast,” he said. “Don’t let the enemy get set. Don’t give them time to react. You see one of the slimy bastards, you shoot. Don’t wait to see if he’s pushing a broom or loading a pulse rifle. Just shoot and keep shooting until the problem goes away. There’s no prize for the trooper who comes back with the most ammunition.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said. “Ensign Poppins, it’s your show. Any final words?”
“Do your jobs,” she said. “Remember the plan. Stick to it, you’ll be fine.” She glanced at the computer screen. “Okay, we’re almost there. One final equipment check while we’ve got the time.”
As the teams began to check each other’s gear, they murmured to one another. They were nervous. No—they were
afraid
, but checking the gear gave them something to focus on.
The crowed parted as Sergeant Kolostomy came through. He planted himself in front of me and tapped the portion of my helmet that covered my left ear. “Just a heads-up. The universal translator is channel six, in case you want to talk to the snot wads.”
“Is that something I’d want to do?”
“The hell if I know,” Kolostomy said. “Just keep in mind the thing can’t translate idioms for shit.” He turned and went back to abusing his troops.
I had a feeling, palpable and real. It was the most sure I’d been about anything since being taken out of stasis back on Earth.
I was going to die.
Evidently I wasn’t the only one feeling pessimistic. I spotted Poppins off alone in a corner, facing away from everyone else. I went to her. She was breathing in deeply, exhaling loudly. She did this over and over again, taking deep breaths and letting them out.