Sahara
Lei Sahara, despite her surname, did not, in fact, originate from the desert that cut through northern Africa. That band of endless wastes that was good for nothing apart from hostile environment training. Earth was the jewel of the Federation, a world of greens and blues, and yet even the UCF had little use for such an endless trek of dunes. Apart from an attempt to cover it in solar panels in the 21st century, before the Collapse and subsequent implementation of fusion technology, the Sahara had little use to anyone.
And yet, compared to the world that the TFS Tamerlane was orbiting, the Sahara seemed downright hospitable.
"Zulu Alpha is a shithole," Lieutenant Dill said, as he paced around the briefing room's stage like an overgrown peacock. "And I'm not talking about your usual Bug-infested shithole, I'm talking about above average levels of shithole."
"Says the person who's talking out of his arse," Horton murmured.
Lei giggled. And it must have caught the lieutenant's attention, because it was at that point that Dill stopped acting like a peacock, and more like a falcon.
"Something you want to add, private?"
A hungry falcon.
"No sir," Lei whispered, wondering why Dill was focusing on her, and not Horton.
"Didn't hear that, private."
"I said I didn't have anything to add, sir!"
Half of Bravo Six gave her sympathetic looks. The other half, including Sergeant Rake, didn't. That was the life of a corporal for you, Lei reflected. Caught between the worlds of enlisted soldiers and non-commissioned officers, and not really trusted by either. Even having been demoted to private, her in-between status remained.
"I didn't think so," Dill sneered.
And then there were psychics. Lieutenants or not, psychics tended to think they were better than everyone else, and Lieutenant Pavlov Dill, Psi-Corps, assigned to unit Bravo Six of the 701st Mobile Infantry Division, Bravo Company, was no exception. Technically, he had command over the unit. Effectively, he was a peacock who wore a black suit, and didn't know (or cared) that everyone hated him.
"As I was saying, Zulu Alpha," Dill said, as he went back to prancing, gesturing at the holographic sphere hanging in the air for good measure. "Planet's cloaked in perpetual night thanks to its weather system. Clouds cover every inch of the surface – we've got zero visibility, and orbital scans aren't doing much either. We are, in every sense of the word, blind."
An uneasy rustle ripped through the troopers. Everyone knew what had happened at First Klendathu. Overconfidence, poor planning, and a thousand other failures of foresight had resulted in the deaths of half a million troopers and navalmen. And that had been with a clear line of sight on the Bugs' homeworld.
Now, deep in the AQZ, with a world they couldn't even see properly…
"Of course," said Dill, smiling like a hyena, "that means the Bugs can't see us either." He pressed a button on the remote he was carrying, and holographic ships appeared above the sphere. "Battlegroup X-Ray is in orbit, so that means, at oh-six-hundred hours, you…yes, all of you…are going to cut through those clouds, take up positions, and continue marching to victory."
"Or stumbling," a man muttered.
Dill cast a look out over the unit, his eyes lingering on Lei. Despite the fact that the voice clearly wasn't hers, the lieutenant's eyes still lingered, located behind his specs. She found herself sinking into the seat like a child before the lieutenant's gaze moved on.
Bastard.
She didn't know why Dill was more of an asshole to her than everyone else. Psychs were assholes, lieutenants were assholes, so Dill being an asshole wasn't a mystery, but why she got more assholery from him than everyone put together was a mystery for the ages. Maybe one day, FedNet would run a documentary on the phenomenon, asking viewers if they wanted to know more before declaring "we've got nothing."
Yes, she'd screwed up on Planet K, but apart from that…
"Sergeant Rake, it's your show."
She must have missed the last part of his briefing, she realized. She watched as the lieutenant stood aside, and as Sergeant Dede rose from the forty or so troopers in Briefing Room 4D. Dill, for all his faults, at least understood that while he was at the head of the outfit, Rake was the rest of the body. The one who moved Bravo Six's arms and legs, and got shit done.
"Thank you, lieutenant, for that speech," the sergeant murmured, as she took a remote from Dill. "Nice and short."
"Know something else that's short," Tor murmured.
More sniggers erupted from the unit. Rake gave them a look, but otherwise, made no move to discipline her troopers, despite the chagrin on display from Dill. Lei, despite everything, gave a smile.
"Anyway, enough small talk, time to discuss how we're about to die."
Lei's smile faded, and not just because Tor didn't return it.
"Zulu Alpha," the sergeant said. "Shithole, as the lieutenant's explained, so I'll just reiterate that he was right about everything, and then some. But we, boys and girls, have to tread dust. So that means deploying here." Using the remote Dill had given her, the hologram shifted to displaying an open plain. "Point Echo-One, located in Combat Sector Wyoming, in the planet's northern hemisphere. Mobile Infantry have been trying to take this planet for months, but have been forced to shore up in a series of outposts scattered around the planet."
Lei's heart skipped a beat. The Mobile Infantry was at its best when its campaigns were short. Campaigns that lasted months, even years, worked in the Arachnids' favour. If Zulu Alpha hadn't been taken yet, then what were their chances?
"Terran Command has ordered a counterattack, and, under General Shepherd's command, the Seven-Oh-First is going to be at the tip of the spear. We're going to land, we're going to plant our flag in the ground, and we're going to hold it. We're going to make the Bugs' dirt our own, and look damn good doing it."
If it was an attempt at motivation, it failed. And looking at the sergeant's eyes, Lei could tell that Rake knew it.
You're afraid, aren't you?
"Any questions?"
Lei looked around. At Corporal Kobe, at Private Sandee, even Billy Otter, the new kid. Them, and a dozen others. Each with a look of unease on their face, but none with the resolve to actually challenge the sergeant.
"Anyone at all?"
It was almost as if she wanted to be challenged though, Lei reflected. Or it was her imagination. Either way, she got to her feet.
"Private Sahara."
She glanced at Dill, a look of contempt on his face, before she returned her attention to Rake. The one who, a month ago, would have been her superior only by one rank.
"You have something to say?" The sergeant asked.
"I…"
"Spit it out, private, the night's not getting any younger."
"Sergeant, this is…nothing," Lei said.
The sergeant gave her a look that was so withering, Lei was surprised that her body didn't just give up on her then and there.
"I mean, it's a plain," Lei added. "An empty plain."
"Duly noted, private."
"It's just…we're engaging the Bugs on an open plain," she said. "Alone."
"Not alone. Alpha Nine, Foxtrot Two, and Hotel Ten will be deployed in proximity. And that's not to mention the rest of the division who-"
"Alone," Lei reiterated. "With no chokepoints. With the Bugs able to come at us from any direction." She looked at the assembled troopers. "Anyone else think this is suicide?"
She regretted the words immediately. It was one thing for her to challenge the sergeant as she was. Another to appeal to the mob. Four years into the Bug War, and more than one Mobile Infantry unit had been sent to die for the greater good. As citizens, it was their duty, their oath, to give their life to the Federation as it deemed fit.
And as Lieutenant Dill walked forward and told her to sit down, he reiterated those very facts.
Lei obliged, her ears burning. Even as Rake sighed, and began to speak.
"It's not sunshine and roses," the sergeant conceded. "But it's the plan. The operation involves advance MI teams to deploy, hold our positions, and let the Bugs come to us. Fighters will be doing strafing runs, and-"
"Through that atmosphere?" Private Brick murmured.
"…covering us, while we stabilize the situation. Outposts are restocked, firebases established, we turn the battle in the Federation's favour, and move from there." She grinned. "And by move, I mean crushing every damn Archie under humanity's boot!"
If Rake was expecting a cheer, she didn't get one. Just silence. Empty, terrified silence. It was one thing to be thrown into combat. Another to be sent into the meat grinder.
"Anyway. Dismissed."
There were those who would say there was no difference.
But having fought in this war for nearly half a decade, Lei knew there was.
There always was.
"Our war is going better than ever. But we need soldiers! We need you! We need-"
"Oh for God's sake, would someone turn that off?!"
Sitting in the Tamerlane's mess hall, Lei silently agreed with Tor's assessment in regard to the flatscreen's FedNet broadcast. Big, brash, bold, he might have been a private, but he towered above every other trooper in Bravo Six.
"Would you like to know more?"
Literally.
"Sit down, private."
Sitting at the end of the bench, Lei watched Corporal Kobe approach Tor. One held height, one held rank. And as they both stood there, they clearly both knew it.
"You say something, corporal?"
"I said sit down, before I make you."
With his eye twitching, Tor obliged. "Sure, corp. Whatever you say."
Rank won out. In Lei's experience, it always did. It was why, when she looked at the head table in the hall, Dill and Rake weren't even talking to each other. The slop on their plates might have been the same, as well as the uniforms on their bodies, but that was where their similarities ended.
Lei watched as Thom walked past, trying to catch his eye. She succeeded, but it was eye contact that lasted only a moment, as the look in Thom Kobe's eye told her everything.
We're not friends.
And then some.
You were a corporal once, and I replaced you. You might resent me, but I'm just doing my job. So stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours.
"Private," he said, before walking on.
"Corporal." She returned to the nutrient paste before her. Nice to see you too.
She might have been reading too much into him, but even if her psychic powers had left her at the onset of puberty, her intuition hadn't. Call it psychic, call it psychiatric, she had a knack for sussing how people felt around her, and how they felt about each other. A sixth sense that had guided her thus far pretty damn well.
But then, psychic or not, you didn't need telepathy to work out what Bravo Six was feeling this last evening, before deploying on the planet below.
Resentment. Aggravation. Fear.
"Hey Sahara."
Lust.
"Mind if we…?"
She gestured opposite her. "Sure."
Jill Sandee and Duff Horton. The former Bravo Six's radar operator, the latter just a standard grunt. The worst kept secret of the unit was that the two were a couple, yet they had the sense to not advertise it to the universe. A glance here, holding hands there…Lei had no doubt that the two had humped the bunk at least once, but she had no proof, nor the inclination to find out.
"Victory dinner," Horton grunted, as he let the goop drip off his spoon. "You know in the old days, soldiers were fed bacon before an assault?"
Lei was barely listening, as she shifted her gaze to the sergeant and lieutenant.
"Yep. World War Two."
"Three," Sandee said.
Dill and Rake still weren't talking to each other. She had no doubt that if Dill read Rake's mind, she'd work out just how much she despised him.
"No, Two. World War Three couldn't afford it."
How much everyone despised him, because for better or worse, Dill was the face of Terran Command. The people back on Earth who were sending the division to die.
"Sahara, help me out," Horton said, as he and his girlfriend continued to bicker. "Was it World War Two or Three that soldiers got bacon?"
Sahara, barely paying attention, said that she didn't know.
"Come on, take a guess. Two or Three."
"I said I don't know."
"Come on, guess. Guess. You have a fifty-fifty chance and-"
"You know what, maybe I don't give a shit!"
Was it her voice that got the mess hall to fall silent, or that she'd slammed the table? Both, maybe? She didn't know. But she'd be lying if she said she didn't care.
"Alright, alright," Horton murmured. "Just asking…"
Lei didn't resent Horton, but she was still not listening. Instead, her gaze lingered on the table at the back. At Dill, who was glaring at her, and Rake, who was giving her the look of a disappointed mother.
"Bacon," Horton muttered, as he went back to staring at the nutrient paste. "Big, fat, juicy bacon…"
Lei looked at him. "Bet you get plenty of bacon on the side."
Horton picked up on the insinuation immediately. He gave her a look, and Lei could see his grip tighten on the spoon. But it wasn't he who responded.
"It wasn't right, you know. What happened to you."
It was Sandee. Jill Sandee. Silent Sandee, Sweet Sandee. Sandee, who gave Lei a look that…God damn it, it was genuine sympathy.
Fuck.
She'd have preferred Sandee to hate her. That way, she could hate her back.
"I mean, me, Duff…you and, well…why you, eh?"
Instead, silent, sweet Sandee was being all nice and shit.
"I was a corporal," Lei murmured. "You two are privates. The higher in rank you go, the more eyes are on you."
Horton grimaced as he slurped up some paste. "I'm fine with the eyes off me, thanks."
Sandee looked at him.
"You excepted of course."
Sandee giggled and kissed him on the cheek. Lei, on the other hand, grit her teeth and looked aside.
It wasn't either of their fault. Really. But Jill Sandee and Duff Horton were walking proof of the rank and file's hypocrisy. And, much as she hated to admit it, a reminder of what she'd had.
"Well, I've had enough."
Of what she'd lost.
"Come on," Horton said, as he got up and extended a palm. "I think the gym wants us."
"The gym? Why would….oh. Oh!" Sandee's eyes lit up like supernovae. "Yeah, the gym. That's…I'm all for the gym." She looked at Lei, as if asking for permission.
"You go, girl."
It wasn't a ringing endorsement, but it was all the pair needed, as they headed out of the mess hall. Leaving Private Lei Sahara to sit, and eat, alone.
As she sighed, and pushed the plate of goop aside, simply sitting became the order of the day.
Sahara.
Her name. Her namesake. And the planet below was even worse.
Dill's description of Zulu Alpha's storm system was an understatement. As she stood at one of the viewing ports of C-deck, Lei watched the dark, tortured clouds roll over it, completely obstructing its surface from view. In a way, it reminded her of the Great Dark Spot of Neptune, briefly viewed from the Napoleon before the corvette had jumped to Planet K to disgorge its cargo into the grinder. A dark, tortured storm system large enough to swallow Terra.
And eight hours from now, she, Bravo Six, and four entire divisions would be sent down into the dark. To fight the creatures that dwelt under its shadow, like angels descending from on high. A fine description, she supposed, if she believed in any higher power, and the Federation didn't make every effort it could to suppress religious belief.
She wondered what Saul would have said, if he'd been standing beside her. Something moving, no doubt. Romantic. Meaningful. He had words for everything.
"Lei, I love you."
Which was why, when he'd let the words stumble out that fateful day, it had caught her off-guard.
"I…I can't stop thinking about you. I know that you…me…there's a hundred rules against this, but I…"
She rested her head against the plexiglas, trying to keep her mind on the here and now.
"Lei, if you don't…I get it, but I…"
Trying, and failing, as memories came back, of the field tent he'd confronted her in on Planet K. Kissing…lots of kissing, in fact…before clothes ended up on the floor, bodies entwined, whispers in ears…
"Ma'am?"
The sickly, sweet scent that filled the air around them. As her womanhood opened for him, as she gasped with every thrust, feeling Saul inside her as she tongue danced in his mouth and-
"Ma'am, are you alright?"
She jumped to attention. Literally. Finding herself face-to-face with a Fleet ensign.
"Fine," she whispered, feeling heat rush through her body (and one particular part of it). "I mean…you…me…fine. Totally fine."
"Right…" The man looked at the planet below, then back at her, a look of sympathy on his face. "You sure?"
She remained silent.
"I mean, what's happening tomorrow…"
"I'm fine," she repeated.
"I know I'm Fleet, and you're Infantry, but for what it's worth, I-"
"I'm fine!"
It was a lie, and they both knew it. Nevertheless, the ensign, taking the hint, nodded, and headed back to…well, wherever he was headed. How the other half lived was a question that Lei had rarely asked, and had never received an answer.
And damn it, the bastard was likely genuine in his concern. The Infantry and Fleet had resented each other for as long as both branches had existed, and while both understood that one couldn't operate without the other, there was the grim truth that the phrase "Fleet does the flying, MI does the dying" was accurate.
500,000 people had died at First Klendathu. Over ninety percent of that number of was MI. So while the Fleet would do its thing tomorrow, while its dropships would carry troopers down through the storm, at the end of the day, it was troopers who'd do the heavy lifting.
Or at the end of the night, she thought, as she looked back at the planet. If the night ever ends.
"Private Sahara?"
She grit her teeth. "I said I'm fine."
"You said what?"
"I said I'm…" She spun around, but trailed off, as she saw the rookie looking at her.
Crap.
Private Billy Otter. Newly assigned to Bravo Six, still wet behind the ears, and the type of person who tended to die quickly.
"This a bad time?" He asked.
In spite of everything, Lei laughed, and stood aside so that Billy could join her at the window. "When is it ever not?" She asked.
Billy didn't say anything. Instead, he just stood beside her, looking down at the tortured world below. From here, they could see the clouds move in an easterly direction, the Coriolis forces visible even this high up.
"How does that even work?" He asked. "The weather system, I mean."
Lei looks down at the planet in silence.
"How is there a constant weather system on a terrestrial world like that? And how's there even an oxygen atmosphere?"
"Ask the eggheads, private. They might deign you worthy."
"Like the unit deems you unworthy?"
Lei glared at him, but only for a second. His voice, his eyes…neither held any malice.
"Listen, I know I'm the newbie here, but…did something happen?" He asked. "Like, it seems that both the sergeant and lieutenant have it out for you, while all the other non-NCOs treat you like they're above them."
Something stabbed at Lei's heart. Saul had been a sensitive sort too.
"I'm just wondering if-"
"I got demoted," she said.
Billy fell silent.
"I was a corporal, and I fraternized with a private. We got close…least we did, until the Bugs tore him away. I mean, apart. I mean, well, you know."
What little colour was left in Billy's face, she realized.
"But not before Dill and Rake found out," Lei said, as she leant against the wall, arms folded. "Rake was a bit more sympathetic, her sister married into the Fleet after all, but Dill?" She bit back a curse, as she glanced aside. "Dill did, fuck, does, things by the book. Dill kicked me down to private. And chances are I'll die before I climb the ranks again."
"Do you want to?"
Lei looked at him. "Not really. But…" She sighed. "The people above hate me. And the people in the unit know I was once above them. You do something stupid, Billy, the stupid tends to stain you."
He nodded, trying to smile, but Lei could see the cracks in it. Could see his Adam's apple quivering. She watched as he walked over to the viewing port, as he rested his head against it.
"You know, looking at that thing, I think I did something stupid as well."
"Yeah? What?"
He looked at her, a tear in his eye. "Signing up."
Oh fuck me.
Two opposite, conflicting emotions tore through Lei Sahara's body. One was sympathy – she understood what Billy Otter was feeling, because she was feeling it too. Doom. Dread. FedNet could run the reels all they wanted, every trooper this side of the galactic core knew that Operation: March to Victory was turning into a disaster. She wanted to put a hand on the kid's shoulder, squeeze it, and tell him that it would be okay.
The other feeling was aggravation, and the desire to slap the private's ears, and tell him to man up. He could feel sorry for himself all he wanted, but you either toughened up, or died. She'd learnt that in boot, she'd learnt that on Planet K, as Saul was torn from her arms.
"Don't let go! Please, don't let go!"
Saul had made her soft, and they'd spent many a night together…soft skin under soft blankets, dreaming soft dreams on living on a soft world when the war was over…
"Shoot it! God's sake, shoot it!"
"Private Sahara?"
She shook her head. She hadn't been able to save Saul Kelso. She hadn't even been able to shoot him before the Bugs tore him to pieces.
"Private, you alright?"
She blinked, looking at Billy. "Excuse me?"
"Asked if you were alright."
"Course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"
"Oh, it's just that you were, y'know…crying…"
Lei's right hand formed into a fist, ready to deck the twerp where he stood. Instead, as she raised it, the fist unclenched, and she used it to brush her eyes.
"Fine," she said, a little too quickly. Nevertheless, she patted Billy on the shoulder. "Anyway, we should turn in. Big day tomorrow."
He didn't look convinced.
"Ex-corporal's orders."
"Yeah. Big day," he murmured, glancing at Lei, the planet, then Lei again. "Big day." Looking as pale as limestone, he turned around and began to walk. Murmuring about good days…last days…
Looking at the planet herself, Lei reflected that chances were, she'd never see another day again. She'd go down there, under those clouds, and never see the sun rise, on this, or any other world.
She would go down, fight, and likely die. In that desert.
This place, like the Sahara.
"This is the captain speaking. Deployment will commence in T-minus five, and counting."
As she and the rest of Bravo Six ran to the hangar bay, along with countless other troopers, Lei reflected how already, things had started to go wrong.
The original plan had been to launch at 0600. Of the ships assembled in orbit, the Kublai had done just that, while the chain of command broke and delayed deployment from all other ships. Right now, they were looking to launch at 0615, which meant another five minutes of descent through Zulu Alpha's atmosphere. What had happened to the troopers deployed from the Kublai, Lei didn't know. But considering that they'd been deployed alone, without support, right into the near-literal hornet's nest…
She had an idea. Everyone did.
"Move it move it move it!" Sergeant Rake was standing at the entry ramp to the DR-4 Viking that could be their transport. "Naptime's over kiddos, boots are needed on the ground!"
She was doing her best, bless her. Better than the lieutenant was, who just stood at the side of the dropship, going over a notebook. Battle plans, confessions, letters to a significant other, Lei neither knew, nor cared. It was as if the grunts of Bravo Six were beneath him. And given that Dill was a psychic, maybe they were.
"Move your arse trooper!"
Lei glared at Rake, but nevertheless, kept running into the ship, before holstering her E-pulse 44 rifle beside the drop harness that she strapped herself into. Bad enough that the drop was going bad, Bravo Six was equipped with dinkey little laser guns instead of Morita IIs. They had the advantage of being lighter, and having a higher magazine capacity (energy was easier to store than bullets), but the E-44 had the drawback of only accomplishing jack, and shit, against the average Arachnid warrior. Not unless you were an ace shot.
"Coming through, coming through!"
Which, Private Ottis Brick wasn't. But as he was carrying an E-88 (the equivalent of a heavy machine gun), he didn't need to be. He just needed to spray and pray, and only do the former most of the time.
"Ready to kick some arse?" Brick asked.
"Ready to get some arse," Private Tor responded.
Lei rolled her eyes as the two men passed. Least they seemed happy about all this. Moreso than Sandee and Horton, who began strapping themselves into the harnesses opposite her. Horton, who holstered their rifles, and Sandee, who fixed her radar rig in the overhead supports. On the surface, it would be her job to say how many Bugs were coming their way, and from which direction.
A waste of time, in Lei's view. In her experience, the answers to both were always "a hell of a lot" and "everywhere."
"You okay, Sahara?"
Nevertheless, she gave Sandee a small thumbs up. A thumb that came down, as she saw the two strap in, and hold hands.
It wasn't their fault. She knew that. But they were alive, and Saul wasn't. One month since she and Saul had made love, three weeks since he'd died, and she wasn't over either.
"T-minus three, and counting."
Lei took a breath, leant her head back against the dropship's hull, and closed her eyes. Some said waiting was the hardest part of going into battle. Cap troopers especially, being the maniacs that they were. Shakes before a drop, shakes after a drop…she knew that humans were a naturally violent species, her history and biology teachers had both reinforced this point, but from what she'd seen over the last two years?
"Private Sahara?"
It was hard to tell. And as she opened her eyes, and saw Billy using the harness beside her, she was further reminded of the difference.
"Dropping together, huh?"
"Guess we are."
She didn't feel like talking. Not to Billy. Not to anyone. She glanced at the dropship's ramp, and saw Rake and Dill bickering about something. The plan, most likely. Dill of course wasn't responsible for the machinations of Terran Command, but fuck, did he have to be so…loyal?"
She looked at Billy. Still pale. More pale, actually. And with dark circles under his eyes.
"Hey, Private Otter. You okay?"
Billy looked up at her, his silence being the only answer she needed.
"No sleep, huh?"
More silence. More answers.
"Well, don't worry about it. Fight long enough, you'll find that dirt's as good as any bed."
"Do you think I'll be able to fight long enough?" He whispered.
She had a real answer. But as she smiled at the private, it wasn't the one she gave.
"Stick with me, Billy. Keep firing, keep reloading, and you'll be sleeping on dirt rather than in it."
He gave a small smile in turn. He didn't look convinced. But it was the best she could do.
"Atten-shun!"
Especially now, as Dill and Rake walked into the bay, behind whom were a quintet of troopers that she didn't recognise.
"At ease," Dill said. He looked at Rake, scowling. "Your show, sergeant."
Rake sighed. The words "T-minus two, and counting," echoed through the bay. Through the ears of every trooper present. Young, old, male, female, officer, enlisted. For a split second, Lei thought about Horton. About bacon.
"I'll make this quick," Rake said.
About how these days, words were all they had.
"It isn't good. Bugs are firing plasma into the atmosphere. They can't aim, but we can't see them. And that means fighter support has been severely limited."
No-one said anything. Given the look in their eyes, they didn't have to.
"As of now, every unit of the Kublai is considered…" Rake swallowed, before saying, "lost."
"Lost?" Billy whispered.
"And while this wave will be coordinated, the Bugs know we're coming," she said. "So when we land, they're going to hit us hard, and fast."
More silence. More stares.
"But we'll hold," she said. "We land, we hold, you give all you got. Because we're the Mobile fucking Infantry. Any Bug comes to us, we squash it. You see a Bug, shoot it. You see a hole, nuke it. Do you get me?!"
"Ma'am yes ma'am."
"I said do you get me?!"
"Ma'am yes ma'am!"
"Again!"
"Hooah! Hooah!"
"Hooah!" Came a new voice. "Damn right!"
A man stepped out from behind Rake. One that the sergeant stood aside for, and Dill stared at in rapt admiration. A look that was mirrored by every trooper in Bravo Six.
No way, Lei thought.
"We're going down there, we're going to kick some arse, and we're going to make those sons-of-bitches never be hatched!"
Lei could have pointed out that Warrior Bugs technically weren't 'sons.' But then, you didn't contradict General Jack Shepherd. Hero of more campaigns than Lei had fingers. The commanding officer of the 701st Mobile Infantry Division. A man who, by all rights, should be staying on the Tamerlane while the unit was sent to the ground.
"T-minus one, and counting."
"Ain't looking good, let me tell you that," Shepherd conceded. "But I'm going down there. You're my boys and girls, and a good dad, a good soldier, doesn't ask of their troopers what they won't do themselves."
Lei looked past the general, at the retinue he'd brought. A trooper holding a horn. Another, a Mobile Infantry flag, wrapped up, ready to fly. General Shepherd liked to style himself after the leaders of Terran commanders centuries passed. Of the mass warfare seen up until the early twentieth century. Against an enemy whose main tactics was to rely on weight of numbers, there was certainly a basis for it.
Stand in line, shoot, keep shooting.
"See you on the bounce, troopers," Shepherd said. "And remember – no ape lives forever!" He looked at Dill. "Sound us off, lieutenant."
It was a pep speech, Lei reflected. A pep speech that she'd heard a dozen times. Especially in Operation: March to Victory, as the new sky marshal called for total war against the Bugs, and in doing so, spread the Federal Armed Services thin across a front hundreds of light years long. Yet now…
"To the everlasting glory of the infantry…" Dill began to sing.
Yet now, she had hope.
Maybe, she reflected, they'd live.
Three hours since landing, and Lei Sahara knew that she was going to die.
The landing hadn't gone well. None of the operation had. The divisions had been deployed, and at best, had held their ground. At worst, they'd been overrun. Most of them were currently in the same situation as Bravo Six – holding their ground, albeit barely.
She knew this, because even standing atop a mound, surrounded by a barren plain and countless Arachnids, she could hear General Shepherd barking out orders. Even over the sound of rifle fire, she caught snippets of conversation. Lieutenant Dill might have been giving orders to Bravo Six, but it was Shepherd who was giving orders to the 701st and receiving intel.
An advance faltered.
A company overrun.
A platoon retreating.
Inadequate air support.
Retrieval impossible.
Enemy numbers unknown.
Eighty percent casualty rate.
The general gave his orders. None of them stemmed the tide of bad news. Gritting her teeth, Lei continued to fire, the muzzle fire of the 701st providing more illumination than any flashlight. The Arachnids had circled the mound, were running around it in a bid to encircle the troopers, but so far, hadn't advanced.
Here and there, they'd pounce. Plucking a trooper from the line and eviscerating them. Or throwing the body into the endless horde.
Storm clouds rolled overhead, cloaking the barren world in permanent darkness. Despite it all, she looked up. Saw brief flickers of sunlight peer through before the darkness returned. A fluke of nature, the Arachnids' own attempt at terraforming, it didn't matter.
They were going to die here. In the dark. Most of them already knew it. Billy Otter most of all.
"Billy," she hissed.
Private Otter, who was just standing there. Staring as only a dead man could, in the darkness, and the shadowy figures scuttling through it.
"Billy!" She repeated.
No response. No life. No light. Nothing like the flares that were occasionally fired into the air, their red light illuminating body and blood alike. Nothing like the explosions that had ripped across the landscape when they'd landed, as (fighter) fighters had descended alongside the dropships, unleashing their payloads. Carving out deep scars in the landscape, incinerating entire packs of Bugs.
None of that now. Be it lack of ammunition or lack of fuel, the flyboys had stopped coming.
No fighters. No dropships. Nothing in this…Sahara.
She checked her rifle's power supply – 27% left in this pack. As long as it never went below 1, she was fine.
She'd die. But not like Saul.
"Fall back! Retreat! Retreat"
She heard Lieutenant Dill's voice above the din. Dill, who in a rare moment of bravery, had led from the front, while Shepherd tried to coordinate. Dill, who talking with Corporal Kobe, and ordering what was left of Bravo Six to fall back to the mound.
Dill, who had spread out the unit too thin, costing the troopers men, and firepower.
Dill, who'd climbed to the top of the mound and was blowing his whistle.
Dill, who may not have got them killed per se, but was damn well responsible for at least some of this mess.
She wondered if he'd die before she did?
She glanced at Sandee, who was pouring over her radar screen. Not even bothering to give readouts, as the Arachnids were all around them.
She glanced at Brick, firing like a madman with his pulse cannon.
She glanced at Rake, trying to get Billy to fire his weapon, even though she had to know it was no good.
"Private Sahara!"
Apparently, Billy was now her problem. "Yes sergeant?"
"Private Otter is a dead man. If he won't fight, shoot him."
"Sir!" She responded.
Rake went elsewhere on the line, leaving Lei to grab Billy's collar. "Just pull the trigger, Billy. It's not enough, but it'll have to do."
The look in his eyes. The thousand yard stare, some troopers called it. A stare that met her own gaze, in silent acknowledgement of the truth.
The truth they both knew.
Under these clouds. Upon the sand. Here, at the end of all things.
Guns firing. Arachnids screaming. Troopers being torn apart.
In the end, the desert took everything.
In the end, the desert was death.
A Sahara.