TITLE: Long Hard Times to Come
CHAPTER: 10, The Cost of Living
"The cost of living is going up and the chance of living is going down." –Flip Wilson, comedian
Captain selectee Sarah Palmer glanced over her shoulder before darting through a jagged formation of granite rocks. The ground is slick with recent rain and she almost slipped in the sticky mud. Her palms left rusty prints on the wet rock when she righted herself. All she had were a set of coordinates. All she had was herself. The seven other ODST marines in her squad weren't reporting in. Mike had been… no, she couldn't think about that now. Move, Marine!
"Goddammit," she swore, wiped her face with her sleeve and kept running. A backass no-name planet at the backass end of the galaxy. Their briefing had been short to say the least. High ranking officer needs extraction. Carrying valuable asset. Cole protocol in effect. Do not return without both assets. No questions. Turn to, Marines.
And that had been it.
Six hours later, they obediently gathered their gear, climbed inside their pods and noticed the small windows were blacked out.
"What the hell is this, LT? It's not like we're FNGs, am I right?"
When the rest of her team joined in to grouse at the restrictions. She shut them up quickly. "Stow it, Marines. We've got a job to do. Any of you candy-asses want to step aside go right ahead. Of course, the rest of us reserve the right to tell the story. "
The launch sequence began. Lieutenant Palmer shouted her usual warning. "Grab your balls, gentlemen."
"S'okay if we grab those perky…"
"Shut up, Jake. Give it a rest."
"Just saying, Steve. It'd go a long way toward making us feel welcome toward whatever the fuck we're headed into.'
"In your dreams, Jake. In your dreams. Ready, hell jumpers? Where's my Christmas tree?"
Her board lit up with seven green ready lights. The bridge acknowledged her ready signal.
"Jesus Christ! Duke is snoring. Dude! Now's not the time to start dreaming about Sarah's assets."
Palmer didn't very hard to stop their chatter. She knew these men, their skills, and their capabilities. As long as they sniped at each other they were awake and combat ready. Teasing went with the job and she could give as good as she got. They were a great team and the shared dangers of their missions solidified their devotion to one another. They'd held each other's head when they lost it from too much alcohol and saved each other's lives a dozen times. Mike, the rebel. He rebelled against everything. Jake the country boy and the smartest tactician she'd ever met. Steve, the team's medic and Orlando her weapons specialist. Rich, the quiet one knew more Intel than the bosses. Bright, eclectic and a complete tech geek and she knew better than to question Rich's methods.
Together since graduating from ODST school, they were something of a legend. Four years was a long stretch for a team. The battlefield tended to shorten their lives by a few years. Palmer ran through her own good luck check list, by placing her hands on the butts of the magnum pistols on her belt. She'd had these since Corbulo and they accompanied her on every mission.
One of the guys kept track of their missions by carving their kills on a rifle stock. She couldn't remember the count. It was either twelve missions on eight planets or eight missions on twelve planets. None of that mattered to her, she loved these guys, she loved the freedom and adventure and she didn't want it to end. Ever.
10, 9, 8…
"Launch checklist?" Her crew answered with blinking green lights.
7, 6, 5, 4,
The hydraulic arms groaned in protest moving the pods into position.
3, 2, 1...
The sudden shock of dropping at near light speeds from a spaceship shoved her stomach up into her throat just as it always had. Through her headset she could hear the faint sounds of snoring. Palmer monitored the feeds from the other PODS from the small console between her knees. She smiled, not a single heart rate showed above 80. Wait, one showed 110. What the?
"Hey, Jake. You jacking off in there? Your heart rate is elevated."
He gasped in mock surprise. "Ma'am, how could you think such a thing. I'm just sitting back thinking about how I got the prettiest LT in the Marines. Ain't that right, boys?"
A chorus of Booyah followed.
"I will not show you any part of my anatomy, Jake. But I will show you my boot up your ass if you don't straighten up. 520 km! Begin landing checklist."
At this altitude, they were still in the exosphere of the planet below. Silence reigned as the POD's auxiliary engines began to slow them down and set up their angle of insertion into the thermosphere.
The team had just begun reporting their checklists when a proximity alarm sounded and something hit her pod hard enough to knock it off course. Two of her team were shouting into the radio. Their heart rate and respiration spiking.
She had to get their attention. "Sitrep, now. Sound off."
"Atmo leaking. Something hit me. I can't see it! Can you see anything, Steve?"
"Negative. Whatever hit us, knocked out my nav comp. I'm flying blind. LT we can no longer be certain we're angled for safe insertion."
"Check your seals, Jake. Hang on. We're just a 120 km to LZ. All of you focus. Quick as we're on the ground we check each other."
The ship wasn't responding to her hails. No way to know where or what they were landing in. Something had hit them. Palmer thumbed a switch to launch a buoy to mark their location.
"An EMP?" Palmer offered into the tense silence.
"I think so, LT. It makes sense. But who and why?" Mike's question troubled all of them, because this mission had been FUBAR from the get go.
Palmer heard Jake's labored breathing. "You staying warm in there, Jake?"
"Yes, ma'am. L-looking forward to some nice warm... weather…"
"Each of you check your landing gear. Prep for hard drop." Palmer ordered, keeping her voice clear and steady.
The planet's atmosphere sparked against the hull as friction built. They can't see it, but the silence of space is gone. The creaking and groaning of the POD is deafening when you can no longer see where you're headed. With kilometers to go before they'd be on the ground. It needed to happen now. Get the hell out of these pods and get to work. That's all they needed right now. Focus and purpose.
80 km... If she could just get her men on the ground. In seconds, they would land and what would they find?
At 50 km Jake's heart rate flat lined.
"LT, it's been an honor… controls are out… so cold. Maybe… call my Mom…" Mike stopped talking when his heart monitor went silent.
20 km.
She had no way of tracking their landing. They were dying in the air; it wasn't supposed to happen this way. Her POD filled with the acrid smoke of an electrical fire. Her boys would want to die fighting. Not like this. Like animals trapped inside a burning building.
15 km
10 km
5 km
Palmer's POD hit the ground and rolled, by the time it came to a stop she was unconscious. Lucky for her, the rolling action put out the fire from reentry. Inside, her head snapped back against the straps and a trickle of blood seeped from her nose and mouth, filling her throat with blood.
~o0o~
The first time she regained consciousness it was to someone rolling her on to her side and clearing her mouth and throat. She gagged on the gloved fingers.
"I've got you, LT." It was the sound of Mike's voice.
"Mike? I saw you flatline. Others?" Palmer asked and spit a clot of blood from her mouth.
"I'm okay, ma'am. It was either my electronics frying or the impact started my heart again. Here," he said, holding a canteen to her mouth.
"Look for the others."
"Will do, just as soon as I get you on your feet."
Pulling on his arm, she forced herself to stand. "Good to see you, Mike."
"Likewise, ma'am. I see some scorch marks. Let's start there."
Together they made their way across an open field, following the trail of carved up earth and burned brush.
They found Jake first. He'd made it out of the POD. No, Palmer noticed as she knelt next to him, he'd fallen out when the hatch opened automatically. He lay there like a rag doll left out in the rain. When she touched his arm, she knew. The only thing holding his broken bones in was the armor. Her hands trembled when she gently lifted his dog tags from around his broken neck. Mike's hand landed on her shoulder.
"Son of a bitch."
"Gather the weapons, food and medkit. We'd better keep moving."
"Aye, LT."
Then just on the edge of her vision, something in the distance glinted in the sun. "Mike! Get down."
He was just stepping out of the POD with his hands full when the bolt hit him. Bone and blood burst from his chest and mixed with the burning purple plasma.
"LT?" he asked, eyes wide. The equipment fell from his grasp and he slid to the ground.
Forcing down the scream of rage threatening to tear itself from her throat, she crawled to the downed POD. The act of reaching for Mike's dog tags would put her in the line of fire. Behind the cover of the POD, Palmer pulled her sniper rifle from her back and using Mike as a prop sighted down the scope.
One breath, wait for the bottom of the last heartbeat, squeeze the trigger. A cloud of purple mist exploded in the midday sun. Sarah Palmer counted, one.
At two, she was on her feet and firing at the Grunts trying to escape her wrath.
"YOU BASTARDS!" She choked over the hot tears on her cheeks. All three Grunts fell. It wasn't until she reached the treeline that she noticed the Brut and an Elite in her cross hairs. She'd have to reload before she could get them both. The Elite had her in his sights. She was out of time. Palmer fired off her last shot and rolled into the underbrush.
A bolt of plasma hit the ground next to her head. Only one shot? Good, she thought. Maybe she'd gotten the Brute.
A fallen tree lay twenty meters ahead of her. Tossing a grenade to her left as hard as she could to distract the Covies, she waited for the explosion and ran for the tree. The large circular area of the tree roots provided her enough cover to try her comm equipment.
She thought hard, clearing her mind for what had to be done. Once her breathing evened out she recalled Admiral Kovalic's code name.
"Watch Dog, this is Sniper One. Do you copy?"
In just a few seconds she had an answer.
Sniper One. This is Watch Dog, good to hear a friendly voice.