"There are no dangerous weapons. There are only dangerous men."

Senior Drill Instructor Career Sergeant Charles Zim

Starship Troopers: Miner Disruption

Chapter 13: Occupational Hazard

His pager hadn't given him all the details. But as he descended into the pit of Mining Site 51 in a jeep, Benito could see what the problem was.

And it wasn't a problem that was without precedent. Because what he was seeing now was but an extension of the problems that had begun a month ago. When the Ironside had arrived in orbit, and through the use of Crane-class equipment transports, had deployed a Mammoth in the pit, and all manner of other heavy excavation equipment. While a pit had indeed been dug in Site 51's early life, subsequent work had been carried out using shafts. Carrying material up from the bowels of the earth, it had been refined, and then transported off-world. This new gear, however, cut straight into the earth, like a knife through flesh and bone. Irrespective of any long-lasting damage to Homecoming.

Or as the pager had made clear, the miners.

He arrived at the bottom of the pit, at the check-in booth. No-one was on duty, and given what had just occurred, he supposed he couldn't blame them. He scanned his ID card, and drove a dozen metres towards the carpool. Reserved for the personal vehicles of senior staff, but more commonly used for the busses that transported the miners from their habitation units down into the pit. A piece of concrete over what was otherwise dirt and rock. The likes of which ensured that bus and jeep alike could never stay unblemished for long.

But even if the road hadn't stopped there, he wouldn't have been able to drive any further ahead. Once, the base of the pit had been relatively smooth, designed to facilitate easy transport by small mining vehicles, personal transport, and even staff on foot. Now, it was a series of gouges in the earth. Steaming puddles of mud, tailings, and even mercury bubbled side by side, with little thought given to safety or environmental impact.

The Federation wanted its titanium. And it didn't care how much it had to destroy to get it.

The one thing that gave Benito solace in light of that was that the Feds were at least using it to fight an enemy that sought to eradicate all human life.

I hope so Benito. I really do.

Gritting his teeth, he kept making his way forward. To the Mammoth, and the cluster of miners, security officers, and troopers at its base.

Because if you're wrong, there's no going back.

Tai Yamagata had been right in more ways than one. Because as he approached the throng of people, as shouts and cries filled his ears, rising above the rumble of the Mammoth's engines, it occurred to him that now, there was no turning back.

"So the snake's slithered back to the hole."

Especially not now, as Matthews glared at him. His eyes shining with fury, even as muck and grime covered the rest of his face. And given what he said next, he must have seen the way Benito was looking at it.

"Would've showered, but not all of us are taking a holiday."

Benito forced a smile. "You should keep it. Makes you look prettier."

He regretted the words straight away, and not only because Matthews looked one nail short of building a crucifix, and impaling his SSO on it. The miners had been working triple shifts, and despite having as much leave as him, Matthews had been right alongside them. Their jobs had always differed in the amount of physical labour required, but over the last month, the divide had become "everything" vs. "nothing."

Matthews could be an arse. But out of it still came nuggets of truth. So instead of antagonizing his friend (or whom he hoped was still his friend) further, Benito held up his pager, displaying the code on display.

"I got the message. I came as soon as I heard."

Matthews folded his arms. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

Benito said nothing.

"Aren't you on leave?"

"I am. Or, I was. I mean, I've been using my leave to keep my normal hours, so when I'm not in the office, I'm still in proximity of the site. But when I heard about the accident, I-"

"Fuck off, Benito. You're a month late."

Matthews turned around and made his way back to the throng of people at the base of the Mammoth. The words cut through Benito like a knife through rare stake. Simple, but capable of drawing blood, and leaving a wound.

This entire site's a wound. He looked at the miners, at the pit, and the multiple gouges in the earth inside it. And it's still bleeding.

With sorrowful eyes, he shifted his gaze to the Mammoth – the M-230 Armoured Excavation Vehicle, rumbling and grunting away, like a giant out of his old storybooks. Upon second thought, he concluded that the comparison wasn't unwarranted. 50 metres tall, and 20 metres wide, it was a giant platform mounted on a pair of caterpillar tracks, 40 metres long. A crane was mounted on its top, and three extendable excavation claws were attached to its front and two sides. At its back, a deposit hatch, which led to its internal processing plant, where heat and chemicals would separate rare elements from base materials. And at its rear, two giant deposit containers, each of which could have fitted on a truck. One for tailings and other detritus, another for the target mineral.

Titanium.

He'd been sent some specs the day the Mammoth had been deposited in the pit by the Cranes, holding the behemoth aloft through nano-carbide cable – the same material used for space elevators before advances in propulsion and a-grav technology made them obsolete. The Mammoth itself was a variant of the M-210 Mastodon – same size, same specs, just designed for mobile excavation rather than being a mobile firebase. While the Mastodon was designed with armour and height in mind, allowing Mobile Infantry to traverse hostile worlds, dozens of metres above Bugs that might swarm below, the Mammoth was designed to support such campaigns through resource extraction. Quick extraction followed by quick processing, getting everything from guns and armour into the MIs hands.

While processing at Site 51 was still being done by its refinery, the Mammoth remained a masterpiece of engineering. Yet the miners had been put to work on it after only a few days training. And as he came to the base of the vehicle, Benito could see the consequences.

"Oh God."

Miners. Eleven of them. Six men, five women, though it was hard to tell in some cases. All of their clothes were singed, and all of their skin blistered. They'd been brought out of the Mammoth, and were lying on the ground – moaning, if their mouths hadn't been too deformed to allow it, otherwise opening and closing muscle in silent agony. Like beached scale-snappers on the shores of the Laurentine Sea.

Medical staff were doing their best to tend to them, but they were offering little more than emotional support. Holding hands. Feeding water. Was it that they didn't know what to do? Possible, Benito supposed – he had no idea as to what chemicals were used in the Mammoth's processor. Chances were the medics didn't either.

And whose fault is that?

He suppressed the guilt thought, and beheld the ugly scene before him. Because on one side of the injured were their fellow miners. Yelling, screaming, and cursing, at the troopers on the other side. And in-between were security staff, led by Mugabe. Trying to keep the two groups at bay…when they weren't siding with one of them.

Matthews was still in-between. Shoving a miner back with one hand, before turning to a lieutenant and yelling something that made Benito blush.

Less so when one of the troopers raised their rifle. As the lieutenant yelled at the private to lower his weapon. As Matthews screamed, "fucking do it! I dare you!"

"You think I haven't shot traitors before?!"

"I bet you have, you fascist piece of-"

"Enough!"

Benito worked forward, but while Matthews and the lieutenant had heard him, few others had. Even at the top of his lungs, the shouting and screaming continued, drowning out the foreman's words. Troopers grabbed their guns. Miners, their equipment. Both looking eager to use the tools at hand.

"They did this!" Matthews yelled, as he turned his attention to Benito. "They put us to work on that thing! They wanted their fucking titanium! No training, triple shifts, and this is what fucking happens!"

Benito looked at Mugabe, as she yelled at the miners to stay back. At the lieutenant, who was yelling at the miners to stand down, before turning to his troopers and telling them to do the same…gripping his pistol, all the while, as surely as Mugabe gripped her taser, the troopers their rifles, and the miners their drills.

One side had the advantage of firepower. The other, numbers. Neither, it seemed, had a monopoly on anger.

Benito walked over to one of the medical staff. "What's the prognosis?"

She looked up at him, which was more than her patient could do. "Mister Sanchez? Aren't you on leave?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean…it's complicated."

She glanced at the troopers, whispering, "things have been complicated for a month now."

"They have," Benito murmured, wondering why so many pinned the Federation's presence on him. "But for now, just answer the question."

"I…sir, I've called in medivac, but I don't know what to do. I don't know the chemicals involved, so anything I apply could make things worse." She glared at the troopers. "And these fuckers don't even know."

The lieutenant walked forward, glaring at the medic. "You're miners. Don't you know?"

"You're citizens. Aren't you supposed to be perfect?"

"Perfect? No. Competent? Yes."

The medic gave him the finger and returned her attention to her patient. Benito, meanwhile, looked at the lieutenant. He was wearing the same body armour that all the troopers were, but on it was stencilled a name.

Song-Un," he murmured.

It was if just saying his name made the lieutenant want to kill him. Certainly, he gripped his oversized rifle hard enough, as the senior site officer got to his feet.

"Don't I know you?" The lieutenant murmured.

"You gave us the Mammoth," Benito said. "You gave these…my, miners, nothing but a few hours of training."

"I didn't do anything," Song-Un murmured.

"No. You didn't." Benito glanced at Matthews, who was glaring at both the lieutenant and SSO. Both who were in the business of not doing things. Matthews might detest the Federation, but Benito knew he couldn't expect any help from him right now. Nor Mugabe, who was still playing at being peacemaker.

You see that?" Benito gestured to an excavator on the pit's perimeter – dwarfed by the Mammoth, and sitting unused. "That's an E-450. Training for that requires months. Mastering it requires years. Those things are reliable, but if things go wrong, they go really wrong. That's why their drivers have regular assessments."

"I don't see what that has to do with-"

"So why the fuck are you forcing my miners to work themselves to death on Federation equipment they've never used?!"

Song-Un, shaking with rage, nevertheless didn't say anything.

"These people could die. You…why are you even in this pit? We've got security, we don't need you!"

"Yes you do!" Song-Un cried out. "You called us! We fought for you! My men died for you! We've been fighting a fucking war for you…you civilians, for fifteen years, and none of you have lifted a finger to help!"

Troopers were shouting. Miners were shouting. The Mammoth continued to rumble, like an irate giant.

"It's not our war!" Matthews walked up, and put his finger in Song-Un's face. "We don't want you here!"

"Get your finger out of my face."

"My brother died for you!"

"I said get out of my face!"

"It should have been you! It should have been any of your butchers rather than-"

Benito didn't know who threw the first punch. Only that in one second, Matthews was screaming in Song-Un's face. The next, the two men were rolling around in the mud. Screaming, punching, cursing. As if trying to kill each other.

Maybe they were.

He looked around desperately. Mugabe, bless her, tried to keep the miners at bay. So too her security officers. Some of the troopers looked on in awe, others in horror. Some tried to join the fray. Others prevented their fellow soldiers from doing so.

Benito stood there, paralysed with fear. For Matthews. For the miners. Even Song-Un and his troopers. Eleven miners had already been injured. But if any of those troopers' guns went off…

"I'll kill you!"

Was that Matthews, or Song-Un? He didn't know. But instinct drove him to grab Matthews, to pull him away.

"Stand down!"

"I'll fucking kill you!"

Matthews wasn't letting up. Nor was Song-Un, as taking advantage of Benito's intervention, he threw a punch, hitting Matthews's nose with a bloody crack.

Matthews howled. Benito cursed. Mugabe screamed, and dove forward. Punching Song-Un again, and again, and again, and-

"Get off him!"

Benito grabbed her. Troopers rushed forward. Security guards raised their tasers, troopers raised their rifles, and-

"Stand down!"

…everything went quiet.

Everything, but the rumbling of the Mammoth. Everything, but the moans of the miners. Everything, but the roar of the engines of a Federation dropship descending upon them, from which an amplified voice had sounded. As if an angel itself had descended from Heaven, into this festering, stinking wasteland called Hell.

Troopers, miners, and security staff alike kept their distance, as the dropship landed. Even more so as its ramp descended. Out of which walked Sonia Liang, her master sergeant, and another pair of troopers. Cybernetic legs whirring with every step.

Benito was reminded of a month ago when he'd similarly beheld her arrive. Only unlike that time, Sonia Liang looked ready to kill someone. Which, given the fire in her eyes, she might be.

"Liang, I-"

She shoved him aside and walked over to Mugabe and Song-Un. Still brawling in the mud. Screaming, even as every other man and woman stood silent. Partly in awe. But as the captain approached, in terror.

With nary a word, Liang grabbed Song-Un's shoulder with one hand, and punched him with the other.

With Mugabe, she was gentler. As the security officer got to her feet, Liang kicked her back down in her chest. She let out a cry, but it was quieter than the one that Matthews did. Who, even as blood poured out of his nose, mingling with the muck and grime on his face, rushed over to her. Asked her if she was alright.

Still no-one said anything. It was as if everyone had become aware of a powder keg beneath them, and dared not move, let alone speak, lest they set it off. After all, Liang was taking small steps, and making smaller glances. Glaring at Matthews. At Song-Un. At Benito himself.

"There's a saying I like," the captain whispered eventually, in-between deep breaths. "Don't wrestle with pigs. You'll just both get dirty."

Benito wasn't sure what a pig was. Some exotic alien creature perhaps? Either way, he stood and listened, as Liang turned her attention to Song-Un, who'd got to his feet. Despite being slightly taller than her, Benito could see him quiver.

"Lieutenant Song-Un," she whispered. "I never thought I'd see you wrestling in shit."

"Ma'am, if I could just say that-"

"No you can't! You can't say anything that can make me ignore that I saw you attacking a civilian!"

"Captain, you don't understand. I-"

"Lieutenant Dwae Song-Un, you are relieved of command. As of now, you're confined to barracks until I work out what to do with you."

"Ma'am, they attacked me!"

Liang didn't say anything. Nor did any of Song-Un's troopers. Looking at their faces, Benito saw a mix of emotions. Fear. Relief. But mostly, frustration. Anger. Even contempt. Sonia Liang might have been the commander of her Lions, but apparently the affection of her cubs wasn't infinite.

"Fine," Song-Un whispered. He turned to a trooper. "Sergeant Kazamatis. You have command."

"Yes sir!"

Song-Un began walking. Heading for the pit's exit. Taking the time to wipe some of the grime off his face and flick it in Benito's direction.

You missed.

Benito's jubilation was short lived, however, as he watched Liang walk over to Matthews. Shorter-lived still, as he saw some of the miners and security officers recoil.

"Boke my nase," Matthews grunted, as he got to his feet. "You onlay sonding em to-"

"Hieronymus Matthews, I'm arresting you for striking a Federal officer, for engaging in sedition, for sabotaging a Federal operation-"

"Wot?" Matthews stared at Liang, eyes wide. And then, at the handcuffs she took from her belt.

"You will be transferred to a holding area at our field base. Due consul will be provided. If you-"

"Liang, don't do this."

Odd, Benito thought. It was what he was going to say. But instead, it came from her sergeant. Craddock, if he remembered correctly.

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Master Sergeant."

Benito glanced at Matthews. Matthews, at him. Mugabe, at Matthews, as she clenched the trinket around her neck.

"Liang, we need the miners on our side."

"And we need to do our jobs. Or have you forgotten Juno Terengai?"

"I…" He took a breath, as if the words were causing him pain. "Ma'am, I haven't forgotten. I-"

"Good. Because we-"

"I take responsibility."

Benito stepped forward. All eyes turned to him, bar the injured miners. And some of the medics still treating them.

"I take responsibility," Benito repeated. "Hieronymus Matthews is under my supervision. If he's stepped out of line, he stepped over the line I made."

"Fak woo Bonto."

Liang raised an eyebrow. "You take responsibility for this man assaulting an officer of the Mobile Infantry?"

"I…" He looked at Matthews, who was staring at him. At Mugabe. At everyone else.

"I do," Benito said gravely.

Liang shrugged, and took the handcuffs. Walking towards Benito with them in hand.

"Like I take responsibility for the injuries the Federation has inflicted upon the staff of Mining Site Fifty-One."

Liang stopped short. "Excuse me?"

Benito nodded to the medic he'd spoken to earlier. She gave him a look that asked "really?" while he responded with a look that said "yes." Taking the hint, she squeezed her patient's hand, and walked to Liang.

"Ma'am, these people need urgent medical attention. If we could commandeer your dropship and get them to Hampstead, we could-"

"No, you may not commandeer my dropship," Liang said.

"I…"

Benito spoke up. "Captain, you came here to protect miners from Bugs. One of your own machines has done the Arachnids work for them." He looked at Craddock, who was standing there, awkwardly. A gentle giant, far removed from beans or boys. "Let's not fight each other."

A giant that could listen, as he spoke to his captain. "Ma'am, we have nothing to lose by providing medivac. We get the miners to hospital, they get back in the field sooner."

Liang glared at him, her eyes ablaze. Or, as Benito realized, bloodshot. Eyes that went out of sight, as she turned her attention to the medic, the miners, and the Mammoth. Before, finally, her mouth.

"Fine," she whispered. "Craddock, get them airborne."

He smiled. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, Craddock." She looked at the medic. "You and your medical staff accompany them. You want to play doctor, then play the game properly."

"It's not a game, ma'am. I-"

Liang ignored her. "Matthews, consider this your warning. And your security chief's." She glared at the security staff and miners. "All of you. You're here to do a job. So do it."

There were some angry mutterings. And all the more so as Liang looked at the troopers under the sergeant's command.

"I expect you to do your jobs. And that means making these civilians do theirs."

Mugabe spoke up. "Ma'am, my security teams can-"

"Evidently do nothing," Liang snapped. "So I expect you to find a reason for me to keep you on before the week's end." She turned at Benito, and for a moment, said nothing. Just glared at him.

"Benito Sanchez?"

He nodded, unable to speak.

"Walk with me."

Liang led the way across the broken ground. Away from the broken people, and those who were most broken being helped onto a dropship that thankfully, wasn't broken at all. The hour was late and the shadows long. And as Benito followed the captain, he noticed that her shadow was longest of all.

Except perhaps that of the Mammoth. Or of the Verhoeven. Still hanging there in the sky, as it had for a month now. Kept aloft through a combination of thrusters and anti-gravity technology – using the mass of Homecoming as a kind of springboard, pushing it away from the planet rather than pulling it towards.

Benito didn't understand the physics behind how it worked. But he did understand people. At least, enough to understand that when Sonia Liang stopped, turned, and grabbed him by his jacket, that he should listen.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

Benito, still listening, remained silent.

"In the space of a few minutes, you've managed to rile up your miners, questioned my command, forced me to discipline a lieutenant, and give up a dropship to play nurse." She let go, but even as she drew back, Benito could hear her heavy breathing. "So tell me, Foreman Sanchez – why shouldn't I arrest you right here?"

Benito stared at her. Her eyes were bloodshot – he'd seen that when she'd arrived. But here, now, it wasn't Liang's eyes that bothered him, but what was underneath them.

Dark circles. Sagged skin. She looked exhausted.

"Are you alright?" he whispered.

"This isn't about me, Benito, it's about-"

"You look like you haven't slept in days."

"I…" She took a step back, before glancing aside, frowning. "I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine." He titled his head to get a better view of hers. "Or look fine."

Liang said nothing. And while he had some interest, and even sympathy for her, he was reminded that this was about his people. Not hers. If Liang had her own demons, she had to deal with them herself.

"Those miners, back there?" Benito asked. "They're not fine. None of them are. And eleven of them really aren't fine due to a chemical spill in the Mammoth, which occurred because of the insane workloads they've been given, and an even more insane lack of training. So because of that, the rest of the miners, and every other member of this site, aren't fine, because we've got the Federation breathing down our necks as we-"

"These are your miners, Benito. Don't take it out on me."

Benito Sanchez opened his mouth to speak…but no words came out.

Don't lie. Even the smallest ones add up. Build a house of lies, and sooner or later, it will collapse on you.

He hadn't lied. Not exactly. But Sonia Liang had spoken the truth in such a way that it could gnaw at his truth's foundations. Because on one hand, everything he said was true. The Federation was breathing down their necks, and it was being irresponsible into the rate of extraction, not to mention the methods. But on the other…

On the other, he was the senior site officer. These were his boys and girls. Lines had been drawn over the last month, with the Federation on one side and Homecoming on the other, and he'd taken the side of neutral. Liang, at least, had her colours to the wall. On her uniform. On the billowing flag atop the pit – the red, yellow, and white of the Mobile Infantry.

"You're right," he said. "They are my miners."

Liang remained silent.

"Which means that you have to let me run this operation. At my pace, in my way, at-"

"No."

He blinked. "No?"

"No," Liang said. "This is a Federal operation. Wallach Two has come under-"

"Homecoming."

"What?"

"Homecoming," Benito repeated. "My planet's name is Homecoming."

"God's sake Benito, that's what's bothering you?"

"That, and the person who can't get its name right."

Liang gripped her fist, and for a moment, he was afraid she was about to strike him. To put him in the same category of people as Lieutenant Song-Un. Or, worse, to unclench that fist, and use the pistol holstered in her belt.

"Homecoming," Liang whispered.

The fist was unclenched, and thankfully, far away from the holster. Yet Benito's unease lingered.

"Fine," she said. "Homecoming, Wallach Two, W-1020b, it doesn't matter. You know what does matter? Titanium." She glared at Benito. "So get on it."

She strode past him. There were a hundred words on Benito's tongue. Words that involved questions. Statements. Combinations of both…that she was overstepping her bounds. Or why she thought the Federation had jurisdiction here.

"Liang."

Why he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, it did.

"What?" She stopped, turned, and looked at him.

"I understand you want titanium," he said. "But to get it, you need miners. And do you know what miners need?"

Liang rolled her eyes. "Pay?"

"No. Well, yes. But more than that, they need rest. Motivation. You have your men waving your guns around, that isn't helping anyone."

She frowned, folding her arms. "We took out a Bug nest for you. I'd have thought that would be all the motivation you need."

Benito sighed. "You fought the Bugs, I get it. Hell, I saw them. But these people? They don't understand. They-"

"No, they don't!" Liang snapped. "They…" She stopped, taking time to rub her eyes. When her hands were removed, Benito noticed that they remained as bloodshot as ever. That the dark circles beneath them remained. As surely as both of them lay in the Verhoeven's shadow, hanging above them all. As sword and shield alike.

"Fine," Liang said. "I'll loosen my grip a bit. Can't promise anything, but I can have fewer troopers in the pit."

"That's not enough."

"Then that's your problem," Liang said. "Now if you excuse me, I have a flight to catch. One that's been delayed thanks to your miners' accident."

"An accident with your hardware."

Liang stared at him icily.

"Poor hardware killed my parents. I don't want the same thing to happen here."

Some of the ice in Liang's eyes thawed. Perhaps, like him, she recalled that conversation they'd had a month ago. How at his hab-unit, they'd touched on his parents. How she'd opined that maybe one day, he'd tell her that story.

Right now, that didn't seem likely.

"Fine," she whispered. "Good evening, Mister Sanchez."

She strode towards the dropship. She had to realize, like him, that the chances of that had evaporated, Benito reflected. That a month on since their first meeting, a wall had come up that neither could bridge. Or perhaps even want to.

"Oh, and Benito?"

Nevertheless, as she stopped, turned, and looked back at him, he dared to hope.

"Don't give me reason to come down here again."

Hope that was killed as soon as it was born. Surprising Benito Sanchez not in the least.

Because as he looked at the dropship take Liang and the wounded to Hampstead, as he looked at the rumbling Mammoth, at the scars in the land, and the titan in the sky, he had to admit that hope had become a rare commodity.

Moreso than any precious metal.