Read Online Until Relieved by Rick Shelley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rick Shelley
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exhaustion that combat always brought, but it was not an exhaustion that brought sleep. Not for Joe. Soon enough, it would be back to the lines and whatever might come next, but Lieutenant Keye had okayed a short break. Joe's squad had gone through some of the morning's heaviest action, and there was no immediate need for them to hurry back to the grind. For the moment, nearly the entire perimeter was quiet. The 13th had faced nothing but small unit actions so far, no enemy units larger than platoon strength.
"Sarge?"
Joe opened his eyes slowly and lifted his head. Kam Goff stood a meter away, helmet in hand, waiting to see if he would respond.
"What is it, kid?"
Kam squatted next to Joe before he spoke. "I was scared before."
"We were all scared. That's what combat is all about. The drill is to do your job anyhow. Don't freeze up and don't go berserk." Joe hardly had to think to spout a full load of cliches. Each phrase had become trite because it was accurate. And cliches were easier for a stressed-out mind to accept than novel ways of saying the same thing.
"I never saw anybody dead before today, and sure not all chopped to shit like that. I just ain't used to it."
"You ever do get used to it, it ever gets to where it don't bother you, you don't belong in my squad."
That seemed to stump Goff for a moment. His mouth opened, but he didn't speak for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. "I see. I get to like it, I wouldn't want me around either."
"Just keep on, keep up on yourself. It may get worse—probably will. This morning wasn't nothing. But the first time, well, you don't know what to expect. Now you do. More of the same. Maybe a lot more of the same, now and then."
Once more, Goff hesitated for a long time before he spoke. "I don't know if any of that makes me feel better or not, Sarge."
There was no humor in Joe's laugh. "Just don't think it to death. Come on. It's about time to be getting back. Maycroft will be lookin' for us."
When Joe put his helmet on, the other members of the squad, all sitting around the grove, got the message. They stood and put their gear back on. It was time to go back to the war.
CHAPTER FIVE
The new spy satellites that the Accord fleet had deployed gave the Havoc gun commanders real-time video of their target, along with the hard data they needed to lay their rounds where they wanted them. The intelligence analysts of CIC had decided that they had identified the main barracks of the Hegemony troops in the town of Maison. The six guns of Basset Battery were scattered through heavy forest between eleven and sixteen kilometers from those buildings. Their support vehicles stayed farther away, but close enough to the guns to replenish ammunition stocks, just in case the battery should get that busy.
In Basset two, Eustace Ponks could see only one of the other guns, and it was a kilometer away, across one of the clearings that dotted the forest.
"Okay, Karl, give me an extra fifty meters this time," Ponks said after watching their first shot strike well short of the wall surrounding the target buildings.
"Jimmy says he'll goose it personal," Mennem replied. Jimmy was Jimmy Ysinde, the crew's loader.
"Jimmy'd goose anything that stood still for him," Ponks said. "Just get the round over that wall. You shot this bad on the range, the lieutenant would have you scrubbing latrines for a month."
"Must be the atmosphere, Sarge, or maybe the go-juice." Karl was cursing inwardly. He had never missed any target that badly. The Havoc's fire-control computers took everything into account, including atmospheric pressure and humidity, anything that might affect the flight of a round. And with exact positions being calculated through the assistance of target acquisition satellites, missing a target by fifty meters was inexcusable.
Before Ponks could answer, the second round had been fired. In the crew compartment, there was incredible noise, but little noticeable recoil. The gun's gyroscopic
"Sarge?"
Joe opened his eyes slowly and lifted his head. Kam Goff stood a meter away, helmet in hand, waiting to see if he would respond.
"What is it, kid?"
Kam squatted next to Joe before he spoke. "I was scared before."
"We were all scared. That's what combat is all about. The drill is to do your job anyhow. Don't freeze up and don't go berserk." Joe hardly had to think to spout a full load of cliches. Each phrase had become trite because it was accurate. And cliches were easier for a stressed-out mind to accept than novel ways of saying the same thing.
"I never saw anybody dead before today, and sure not all chopped to shit like that. I just ain't used to it."
"You ever do get used to it, it ever gets to where it don't bother you, you don't belong in my squad."
That seemed to stump Goff for a moment. His mouth opened, but he didn't speak for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. "I see. I get to like it, I wouldn't want me around either."
"Just keep on, keep up on yourself. It may get worse—probably will. This morning wasn't nothing. But the first time, well, you don't know what to expect. Now you do. More of the same. Maybe a lot more of the same, now and then."
Once more, Goff hesitated for a long time before he spoke. "I don't know if any of that makes me feel better or not, Sarge."
There was no humor in Joe's laugh. "Just don't think it to death. Come on. It's about time to be getting back. Maycroft will be lookin' for us."
When Joe put his helmet on, the other members of the squad, all sitting around the grove, got the message. They stood and put their gear back on. It was time to go back to the war.
CHAPTER FIVE
The new spy satellites that the Accord fleet had deployed gave the Havoc gun commanders real-time video of their target, along with the hard data they needed to lay their rounds where they wanted them. The intelligence analysts of CIC had decided that they had identified the main barracks of the Hegemony troops in the town of Maison. The six guns of Basset Battery were scattered through heavy forest between eleven and sixteen kilometers from those buildings. Their support vehicles stayed farther away, but close enough to the guns to replenish ammunition stocks, just in case the battery should get that busy.
In Basset two, Eustace Ponks could see only one of the other guns, and it was a kilometer away, across one of the clearings that dotted the forest.
"Okay, Karl, give me an extra fifty meters this time," Ponks said after watching their first shot strike well short of the wall surrounding the target buildings.
"Jimmy says he'll goose it personal," Mennem replied. Jimmy was Jimmy Ysinde, the crew's loader.
"Jimmy'd goose anything that stood still for him," Ponks said. "Just get the round over that wall. You shot this bad on the range, the lieutenant would have you scrubbing latrines for a month."
"Must be the atmosphere, Sarge, or maybe the go-juice." Karl was cursing inwardly. He had never missed any target that badly. The Havoc's fire-control computers took everything into account, including atmospheric pressure and humidity, anything that might affect the flight of a round. And with exact positions being calculated through the assistance of target acquisition satellites, missing a target by fifty meters was inexcusable.
Before Ponks could answer, the second round had been fired. In the crew compartment, there was incredible noise, but little noticeable recoil. The gun's gyroscopic
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