His head throbbed and he wanted Flame. Regulations forbade this and Micah couldn't banish the pain.
He knew the girl was a rebel. He knew she was a prisoner. He knew most of the squads probably had their own prisoners. Still his head pounded.
Micah shuffled through his after-kit. Extra meal bars. Candy. Drugstick. Music chip. Micah popped the chip into his helmet and jacked up the volume. He tried to relax to the gentle music, surf and rain sounds.
***
Micah relaxed and flexed his fingers. The TACLander dropped through the rebel ack, twisting and dodging around the worst of it. Micah had three stripes on his sleeve now and more missions than he cared to remember. The 113th got little rest between missions and they'd have it no other way. Combat made the best training and Micah and his squad proved that again and again. Along with his stripes Micah now had four bangles, the last being Kitten LaRue.
A group of in-system smugglers set up an asteroid as a base and cachement area. Guarded as Command suspected. The fighting was long and bloody and mostly in vacuum and no gravity. That last was Kitten's work. The gravgens were near the fusion plant so major explosives were out. After the base went down they found Kitten there surrounded by the dead meats his demo took out. There wasn't much left of the bodies but that didn't matter. They dragged them to the surface, piled them on an inferno, a plasma's big brother, and put Kitten gently on top. When the inferno flared Micah popped some Flame and raised a silent toast to Kitten. The warm rush brought tears to Micah's eyes and he always thought of Kitten when he raised a glass.
“Report,” barked Sanders.
“Ninety-five seconds to dirt, sir,” said Micah, “In the tube, four-by.”
Sanders might have replied but Micah didn't notice, nor did Sanders take offense. This zone had several hot spots, most of them sending Micah heat. The others would ground and go as soon as Micah dusted down leaving Micah and Tyler with Sanders. Micah didn't particularly mind flanking his L-T but he certainly didn't volunteer.
Ten seconds to dust Micah fired the last of his chaff and smarts. He set the latter for any active signal and the former would scatter to the winds. Each had a part in ensuring the lander dusted safely. Micah's energy readings peaked and the TAC hit the ground. The small ship popped and groaned both as the hull cooled and the soldiers within deployed.
When the reports started Micah, Tyler and Sanders left. This strike represented a coordinated effort between Commonwealth and League forces. This planet lay close to League territory and had petitioned to join the League. The Inner Rim Corporate States Consortium took exception and launched an offensive. A hollow protest since the IRCSC lay well outside League space. Rumor said they'd been grooming it as a staging area for raids against the League.
Micah had little respect for League crunchies. From what he'd seen they devised large complex plans with numerous complex ways to fail. Moreover, the League didn't believe in using its troops! The Corpsies had established several mutually supporting headquarters with interlocking peripheral fire bases inside convenient cities: standard tactics for anybody but the League. Standard counter: pick one HQ and two or three of its peripherals. Overwhelm the fire bases and move on to the HQ. Pick the next and repeat. There would be casualties, of course, but the tactic would work.
Not for the League, though. Sanders' understanding as he explained it was to lightly engage the fire bases and distract the HQs whilst the League Navy microjumped in and bombed the hades out of them. Unfortunately, when the cards were cut Sanders' squad landed on the border with the League forces. Micah hoped they'd be done with lunch by the time the rest of the 113th mopped up.
***
“Heavy fire! Heavy fire!”
A dot on Micah's hud blipped with the report. Sanders barked several orders and the dots
He knew the girl was a rebel. He knew she was a prisoner. He knew most of the squads probably had their own prisoners. Still his head pounded.
Micah shuffled through his after-kit. Extra meal bars. Candy. Drugstick. Music chip. Micah popped the chip into his helmet and jacked up the volume. He tried to relax to the gentle music, surf and rain sounds.
***
Micah relaxed and flexed his fingers. The TACLander dropped through the rebel ack, twisting and dodging around the worst of it. Micah had three stripes on his sleeve now and more missions than he cared to remember. The 113th got little rest between missions and they'd have it no other way. Combat made the best training and Micah and his squad proved that again and again. Along with his stripes Micah now had four bangles, the last being Kitten LaRue.
A group of in-system smugglers set up an asteroid as a base and cachement area. Guarded as Command suspected. The fighting was long and bloody and mostly in vacuum and no gravity. That last was Kitten's work. The gravgens were near the fusion plant so major explosives were out. After the base went down they found Kitten there surrounded by the dead meats his demo took out. There wasn't much left of the bodies but that didn't matter. They dragged them to the surface, piled them on an inferno, a plasma's big brother, and put Kitten gently on top. When the inferno flared Micah popped some Flame and raised a silent toast to Kitten. The warm rush brought tears to Micah's eyes and he always thought of Kitten when he raised a glass.
“Report,” barked Sanders.
“Ninety-five seconds to dirt, sir,” said Micah, “In the tube, four-by.”
Sanders might have replied but Micah didn't notice, nor did Sanders take offense. This zone had several hot spots, most of them sending Micah heat. The others would ground and go as soon as Micah dusted down leaving Micah and Tyler with Sanders. Micah didn't particularly mind flanking his L-T but he certainly didn't volunteer.
Ten seconds to dust Micah fired the last of his chaff and smarts. He set the latter for any active signal and the former would scatter to the winds. Each had a part in ensuring the lander dusted safely. Micah's energy readings peaked and the TAC hit the ground. The small ship popped and groaned both as the hull cooled and the soldiers within deployed.
When the reports started Micah, Tyler and Sanders left. This strike represented a coordinated effort between Commonwealth and League forces. This planet lay close to League territory and had petitioned to join the League. The Inner Rim Corporate States Consortium took exception and launched an offensive. A hollow protest since the IRCSC lay well outside League space. Rumor said they'd been grooming it as a staging area for raids against the League.
Micah had little respect for League crunchies. From what he'd seen they devised large complex plans with numerous complex ways to fail. Moreover, the League didn't believe in using its troops! The Corpsies had established several mutually supporting headquarters with interlocking peripheral fire bases inside convenient cities: standard tactics for anybody but the League. Standard counter: pick one HQ and two or three of its peripherals. Overwhelm the fire bases and move on to the HQ. Pick the next and repeat. There would be casualties, of course, but the tactic would work.
Not for the League, though. Sanders' understanding as he explained it was to lightly engage the fire bases and distract the HQs whilst the League Navy microjumped in and bombed the hades out of them. Unfortunately, when the cards were cut Sanders' squad landed on the border with the League forces. Micah hoped they'd be done with lunch by the time the rest of the 113th mopped up.
***
“Heavy fire! Heavy fire!”
A dot on Micah's hud blipped with the report. Sanders barked several orders and the dots
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