Gabriel Landowski

CHAPTER III

"Alright, try it again."

Every muscle of Kyle's body ached. He was just plain exhausted. In truth, he was not just tired but very bruised as well. His face hurt and his skin was excoriated from his succeeding imbroglio. They had been at it for over an hour and Holly had not looked the least bit winded.

I wish I could say 'you should see the other guy'!

The older man sat cross-legged on the ground wearing a blindfold. He remained motionless, listening for Kyle to approach. Ever since the shooting, hand-to-hand skills training had been the priority on training schedules for Kyle and the rest of the company.

Kyle took a step forward.

"Stop."

Kyle froze as Holly removed his blindfold and got to his feet.

"Son, you really need to start paying attention. Look at your feet. I can tell by sound alone that you crossed your leg over your centerline, thus limiting your range of movement and response."

Kyle looked down and saw that it was true. The senior man continued.

"I know you're tired and I know I've been kicking your ass all over this parade ground but you need to dig down deep and do a gut check. If Corporal Rey hadn't been there you'd be a prisoner or, more likely, dead right now. You need to reach into that soft inner core and make some steel on the outside or one day you're going to get yourself and possibly others killed."

Kyle felt a wave of defeat come over him.

Alright Evans, knock off the cry baby shit! This is what he is talking about! You need to step up to the plate and do the job or you're gonna die!

The platoon sergeant was not trying to make him feel bad by putting him down and this Kyle knew. He had honestly thought of himself as a good soldier and, yet, he was very disappointed by his own lack of ability. It had not helped that several guys in the sister platoons made wisecracks about the incident - as if it were anything to laugh at. But he had seen a look of regard in the eyes of some of the others in the company. They stared at him as if he were supposed to be dead. Some looked with pity, others with scorn.

Let them get jumped and nearly beat to death and see how they like it.

"Let's do this one more time and let's get it right."

Kyle nodded his head and Holly suddenly launched a flying tackle. Kyle forced himself to hold some air in his lungs and let the rest go, anticipating impact with the ground. As soon as they landed, he frantically tried to flip the larger man over using the momentum of the fall to help with the throw. He was partially successful.

Ignoring that this was the most experienced killer in the company, Kyle began to pummel and knee Holly with all his might. He felt a few good blows land and, as a result, a brief moment of hope. A second later Kyle was caught by the wrist, painfully twisted askew, and saw stars as the wind was knocked out of him for the fifteenth time that day. He lay in a heap trying to catch his breath while coughing up dust from the scuffle.

You had him there for a second, Evans - at least I think you did.

Breathing hard he waited for the flashing lights to pass from his vision. As the burning in his lungs began to ease Holly suddenly loomed into view. Kyle instinctively shielded his face with his arms and cocked his legs to receive the attack.

Nothing happened.

The Master Sergeant was panting with his hand resting on his upper leg for support. Kyle noticed a trickle of blood from his nose and Holly appeared to be wincing from a hit to his groin.

Oh my god - he's going to kill me!

Panting, the older man just breathed heavily with a large grin which largely concealed the unmistakable look of pain on his face.

"Alright! Now that's... what... I'm talking about..."

Laughing, Holly reached down and offered his hand to Kyle who was hesitant to accept it. Realizing it was not a trick the young trooper was returned to his feet. Holly wiped the blood off his own face with the back of his hand and stood up as straight as his injury would allow. It seemed that in the mad scramble Kyle had indeed managed to get a knee in somewhere.

"I'm real sorry about that Master Sergeant..."

Holly laughed again with the same wide grin on his face and exhaled deeply.

"Hell no son, you did real good on that one. Anything worth fighting for is worth fighting dirty for. I'm just glad that we found something in there that was willing to fight. It will take a little more repetition to make the training instinctive, but this is a sign that there is hope for you. Go get cleaned up and grab some food. Tell Corporal Rey that you have light duty for the next twenty-four hours."

Kyle straightened painfully into the position of parade rest.

"Roger that Master Sergeant."

Holly nodded his head and simply turned away, at which point Kyle slumped considerably. With an exhausted limp he headed back across the central parade ground toward the squad bay.

The guys are never going to believe I actually kneed that man.

The company post had evolved beneath thick overhead branches of large pine trees. In the weeks following the sighting of the locals, the troopers had worked regular fatigue details fortifying earthen positions and digging new facilities.

The fruit of their labor was a sunken village located several feet below the surface of the woods which contained communication trenches, fighting bunkers, living quarters, and general services. Excavated dirt was placed to form a low camouflaged wall around the entire perimeter with a reinforced inner lattice made from woven cut saplings. The improvement provided additional cover and concealment within the fort and reduced exposure of troopers to direct observation.

The drop ships took turns and sat in high orbit for durations of up to a week while they conducted surface mapping and long range space scans. Rumor had it the initial results detected a large energy wave moving away from the planet as it dissipated. According to calculations from the super computer the originating point of this wave was from orbit and initiated at almost the same moment as the insertion Fold of the Rosalie.

What had created the wave was unknown but wild speculation suggested that enemy had a new capability to lasso Fold destinations with the intent to then ambush their victims. The suggested rational for their own survival was that the lone enemy ship had bit off more than it could chew when it pulled in a midget carrier.

Corporal Rey rejected this theory when he shared a conversation he had with one of the drop ship crew chiefs. According to the chief, the enemy ship would have had to of been a hundred times larger than it was in order to generate an effect powerful enough to interfere with the astrophysical forces involved with a Fold. More probable, what ever diverted the Rosalie also snagged the other vessel at the same time and the attack was primarily an alarmed reflex. The fact that the remaining drop ships were not sought out and destroyed seemed to bear this theory out. Who or what might have brought both vessels to this unknown planet still remained a mystery.

Kyle often thought about what it would have been like had enemy ships slid into orbit over head and pounded the base with their weaponry. Even though the living quarters and defensive positions were a couple of meters below the forest floor they did little to comfort anyone who knew what modern weaponry could do. The small cannon of ancient cruisers from several centuries ago would have been sufficient to turn Kyle and his fellow troopers into a smoking crater one hundred meters across and thirty meters deep.

His aching body brought Kyle's thoughts back to the present and the task at hand. He knew the pain would get worse over the next few days as the bruises healed and the muscle mended. His only remedy was to stretch a lot and suck up the aches and pains until the healing process ran its course. Kyle grinned to himself.

I need to talk to Rey about making an improvised hot tub. What I need use is a nice long soak!

With his thoughts lost in a daydream Kyle failed to notice a group of troopers off to the left as they scrambled out of their underground quarters and into the trenches which led to their assigned fighting positions. As Kyle entered the trench to his squad area a trooper appeared up ahead and called out a warning to make way.

Standing aside, Kyle was amused to observe the guy race past with his helmet and web gear askew. He watched long enough to see the man disappear down an adjacent corridor that led toward the company headquarters area.

Oops! Late for Charge of Quarters duty! He'll get his ass chewed for sure!

Turning back to continue down the trench Kyle was almost bowled over by a trio of troopers from the 1^st Squad. They moved with a determined seriousness that piqued his interest.

Something's up. Those guys are rushing somewhere.

Two more troopers emerged from his platoon area and Kyle called out as they rushed past.

"Hey! What's going on?"

"Better get to your position! We've got visitors on the perimeter!"

The trooper disappeared with his buddy trailing behind, still trying to pull his web gear over body armor. Kyle sprinted the remaining distance down the trench to his squad bay and equipment. As he rounded the last corner Kyle came across Sergeant Walther, the 1^st Squad Leader, who was directing a group of his troopers. He glanced briefly toward Kyle as he dispatched the men to their assigned duties.

"Evans! Grab your shit and report to Rey on the double!"

Kyle nodded his head in acknowledgement and disappeared into the buried storage container which was now home to the squad. He quickly dropped his physical training gear onto the bunk and pulled on his combat uniform. Next he slid on his torso body armor while leaving the upper arm shield straps loose.

Sitting down on the bunk he pulled on his calf length boots and snapped the quick-bindings shut. The equipment load-bearing web vest went on next and Kyle placed the carbine strap over his head and slung the weapon across his back. Upon leaving, he grabbed his helmet from the wall hook and donned it. Moving as quickly as possible he straightened and then tightened the chin strap. A million thoughts raced through his head.

Kyle clipped the last of his gear as he stumbled into Corporal Rey who was coming to the doorway of the bunker. Rey caught Kyle and steadied him against the wall.

"Easy killer! Where have you been? I've been calling for you for the last five minutes."

Kyle pointed to the bruise on his cheek.

"I was with Holly getting my ass beat."

"Squad frequency has changed to fife-two fife-fife. Make the switch and give me a radio check."

Kyle did as he was told and Rey gave him the okay. The corporal turned and gestured to a smaller trench that branched off to the right of the current position.

"The rest of the fire team is down on the right hand side of the line and tied in with the 1^st Platoon positioned to your right flank. You're sharing a hole with Buster and serving as the assistant gunner. Make sure you guys have your eyes peeled and report anything you see as soon as you see it."

"You got it Corporal."

Kyle hustled the remaining distance to the fighting position and startled a jumpy Buster.

"For fuck's sake Evans!"

Kyle grinned to himself.

I don't have to say it do I Buster? Looks like I'm not the only one who can get surprised around here!

Buster returned to checking his weapon and prepared the bricks of projectiles for firing. The two were about the same age and had served in the same rifle company since Basic. Almost two years spent together, they were more or less brothers of a very large family. Without looking away from his task, he asked Kyle in a curt tone.

"Where the hell you been?"

Buster stacked the remaining projectile bricks for the light machinegun. Kyle shifted into his own firing position and adjusted his combat load to make himself more comfortable. He glanced out of the aperture and noted nothing of interest outside the immediate perimeter. He then focused his attention on the distant pine trees which were located over a hundred meters away.

"Holly was giving me some dancing tips."

Buster flashed a condescending smirk.

"More like he's been kicking the shit out of you."

Buster glanced up from his machinegun and scanned their assigned field of fire. Kyle shifted himself slightly and moved an ammo brick which dug into his side. Although able to find a comfortable firing posture Kyle felt his muscles warm with pain from the training lesson.

"I didn't do so bad today. Gave him a little nose bleed. You'd be surprised how fast and strong he is."

Buster glanced over at him with a cocked eyebrow.

"No I wouldn't. You know he used to be with the Special Forces back during the Riots?"

Kyle had not been privy to that information before, however, he only shrugged his shoulders. He figured everyone had to come from somewhere, but the Riots had been some of the stickiest operations conducted in recent history. If Holly walked out of that mess in one piece then he definitely earned another notch of respect as far as Kyle was concerned.

"It's not so bad. I'll tell him you want lessons too."

Kyle grinned to himself as he knew this would needle the machine gunner.

"I just might if you're finally able to go to the shitter without a baby sitter anymore."

Buster looked smug as he scanned the ground to their front. Kyle was used to the ribbing by now as they had plenty of practice together. Having formally exchanged ideas, there was only one thing left to say.

"Hey Buster..."

"Yeah?"

"Go fuck yourself."

Buster chuckled quietly but never took his eyes off the distant trees. In a way being like brothers could be just as annoying, but it had its good points too. Buster had picked a fight with another trooper who made some off hand comment about Kyle getting jumped in the woods. In a close knit family you were allowed to rib your own but heaven help the outsider who violated protocol. Either way, Kyle changed the subject to anything but brooding over what had happened that day.

"What's everybody getting all excited about?"

Buster shrugged his shoulders and gestured with his head toward the dense tree line in the distance.

"Rey said that one of the security patrols caught sight of a large body of natives heading this way from the southeast. I thought I saw something by the base of those pines a few minutes ago but I haven't seen much else since. Whoever they are, they seem to be spread out along our entire perimeter from the southeast to down here."

Kyle came up behind Buster and observed over his shoulder the spot in question. If these people were in fact gathered as Buster said, then that meant there had to be at least a couple of hundred to cover the ground sufficiently. The general feeling was that the trees held something, although Kyle knew it could just be his overactive imagination. Ever since the company had made landfall it was hard to shake the feeling that they were under constant observation. There were even rumors about small black shadows that would appear in the trees and disappear with the blink of an eye.

Rey approached the entrance to the fighting position and quickly inspected the bunker for readiness. He appeared satisfied at seeing grenades and the command detonated mine triggers where they should be according to Standard Operating Procedure.

Buster turned and sat against the bunker wall.

"Hey Rey, what's up out there?"

Rey shrugged slightly.

"Company says the fellows are in furs and carrying flags and spears. Looks like the Bronze Age has arrived to kick our sorry asses."

Buster snorted and raised an eyebrow.

"No shit."

Rey revealed the slightest hint of a smile.

"Okay, listen up. Word from higher up is to wound, not kill."

Buster glanced over at Kyle with an incredulous expression on his face.

"What?! Are you fucking kidding me? You're joking, right?"

He looked at Rey who simply shook his head.

Kyle persisted,

"What happened to the time honored tradition of 'Kill! Kill! Kill we will'?"

Rey looked out past them through the firing slit toward the distant trees. Kyle noted how their squad leader seemed unaffected by the endless sarcasm. The corporal always appeared to remain calm and collected despite having to deal with the agitating comments of his subordinates. Kyle had learned from childhood to emulate the qualities that he admired in others. It was good the team had someone like Rey to look out for them.

If I had to deal with jokers like us I'd be ripping my hair out by now.

"The Lieutenant wants to reduce blowback if we have to shoot these people. If we can manage to wound them then we can help them and be best buddies. If we wax them, their families will probably swear some sort of blood feud and they'll never stop trying to kill us. We still have no idea when the extraction is going to come and take us off the planet so he figures we need all the friends we can get."

Kyle thought about that for a brief moment.

Does Rey think this has something to do with that guy he shot? If so what does this mean for him?

Rey continued.

"If it's the local welcoming committee or ends up being someone with sufficient firepower, I'll pass you the kill order and you can bag as many of the bastards as you can. If you see a visual signal of three green star shell clusters fired over them then it's the signal to start killing. But keep in mind that the LT isn't looking to have to report to his superior that we gunned down a bunch of backwards people armed with fur and pointy sticks."

Kyle thought of the dead man again.

If I hadn't had that paperback in my pocket that guy would have killed me. Pointy stick my ass, Higher can go to hell.

Kyle was vexed by the shooting. He was tired of worrying about what would happen as a result of the surprise encounter. Even though Rey had the blood on his hands Kyle knew his own upset was due to what the Lieutenant had said. Regardless, the ruling was that the killing was justified and any future board of inquiry would have to take that into account.

Wouldn't they? Then again with how the military functions, I should expect to be stood up in front of a firing squad!

Rey continued speaking and pulled Kyle back to the present.

"So the deal is that we are to keep the shots below the knees and take them in the leg where possible. If, for whatever reason, there is no one in the chain of command present and you find either yourself or a fellow trooper in a life threatening situation then, and only then, are you authorized to use lethal force."

Rey looked them both in the eyes to make sure the instructions sank in.

"But I warn you, make sure it is justified or the Lieutenant is going to skin you alive. Off the record, if you have to pull the trigger on someone like that, make sure you're the only one left breathing to file a statement. Understood?"

Both troopers nodded their heads. Kyle had never heard dark humor from Rey before.

Then again he's been there and he doesn't seem to be joking.

"Good luck."

The two troopers gave a low grunt and Rey backed out of the bunker. Buster turned back to observe their zone. Kyle noted the carbine strapped across his back. During action this locale kept the weapon accessible yet out of the way. If they had to abandon the fighting position there was no chance it would get left behind. For the majority of the fighting he and Buster would be responsible for keeping the light machinegun in action. Buster spoke out loud so Kyle could hear.

"I hope they do come after us. I'm getting tired of hiding in holes from dip-shits dressed up like animals."

Kyle nodded absently as he pulled the bolt on his carbine and observed the projectile entering the feed chamber. He slid the bolt forward until it stripped the shot from the ammo brick and locked it into the breech from where it would be fired.

The beauty of the weapons was that they were powered by a compression chamber similar to a child's air rifle; the difference being that the fired projectile could penetrate one centimeter of rolled steel plate at ten meters. Without the need for a controlled explosion to propel the shots, the carbine was a hard weapon to locate and the soldier never ran out of propellant. The weapons could even fire underwater where the only difference in performance was due to the friction of water, which, in effect, was noticeable only outside of short range.

Standard issue prefabricated projectile was the only limitation of a sustained battle. The composition of the shot was what generated the penetrating power. The stock of the weapon could shape improvised projectiles in a pinch. Various materials could be utilized, but nothing performed quite like tungsten core metallic projectiles. Nevertheless, it was amusing to watch an instructor drop targets at fifty meters using only the dirt at his feet.

There's more than one way to skin a cat!

Turning back to his firing position, Kyle shifted several of the grenades and mine triggers to one side to ensure they were kept out of the way. If Rey wanted the bad guys taken alive then the mass casualty weapons had to be held until the last possible moment. Not withstanding, Kyle had every intention of blowing those jackasses to hamburger if he had to.

Somehow I think I'll manage to live with the guilt.

Staring out through the mono wire protecting the perimeter Kyle waited to see what happened next. The extremely narrow material glinted like spider silk in the sun but could inconveniently slice into anything forced against it. A bad guy running through at full speed could amputate, castrate, and decapitate himself before he knew what was happening. A trooper handling the material almost lost a finger just trying to help string it up.

For thirty minutes Kyle and Buster held a low conversation while they kept their eyes fixed on the distant tree line. After a while the constant scanning got to Kyle and his eyes began to tire. Reaching back, he pulled a canteen from his web harness for a drink of water.

A sudden roar from perhaps hundreds of deep, angry voices echoed out from behind the distant trees in a long and continuous drone. Kyle and Buster both froze trying to comprehend the sound. Their eyes met for a brief moment as they both gauged what they were hearing. To Kyle, the sound was reminiscent of only a few weeks past.

It's them! It has to be! They sound really frigging pissed off!

His gut tightened. He remembered the fierce attack of the wild man who had choked him nearly to death. Out there were hundreds, if not thousands, of men just like him. They could be family. Kyle knew that they were armed to the teeth and wanting to hurt someone. He felt a cold fear stir in the tightness of his gut.

Can they possibly know about the shooting? Could they be looking for Rey, or even me?

"Hey Buster, you can make fun of me all you want but whatever you do, don't let one of those bastards get a hand on you."

Buster braced himself behind the machinegun.

"You got that right."

Kyle might not have been king of the hand-to-hand crap Holly tried to beat into his head, but he sure as hell could shoot the shit out of anyone who dared to charge at him. If he could have taught the newcomers anything it would have been that you don't bring a spear to a gun fight. Their helmet headphones briefly crackled with static as someone keyed the squad frequency.

"Alright! Get ready..."

It was Rey.

"Like I said, the LT wants these guys alive. They have no idea what they are up against so take your shots as quickly and methodically as possible. Every shot counts. Keep them low and try not to hit anyone who has already fallen wounded. If I find out one of you guys killed someone unnecessarily I'm going to tell your mothers and they'll have your balls."

Kyle rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Again with the mothers.

Rey continued.

"Bravo Team, you guys work from right to left in your sector. Buster will start from the flank of the enemy advance and thin out the ranks with sustained bursts across the whole front. Evans will follow behind the machinegun and pick off the remaining individuals in order to keep them from flanking us to the right. You are not to allow anyone to make it to the 1^st Platoon sector to your right. Understood?"

Both Kyle and Buster keyed their microphones and acknowledged the instructions. To the other fire team located off to the left,

"Calhoun will mirror Buster but work from left to right with Reeves playing copycat to Evans. You guys in Alpha Team need to make sure that any fire from you overlaps 2^nd Squad to your left. BREAK."

The two troopers from Alpha keyed their helmet microphones and acknowledged the orders. Speaking to all of them Rey continued,

"If we get the Final Protective Fire signal, get your heads down and click off your mines. Remember, the visual signal is three red star shell clusters. BREAK."

"With the 'all clear' you start shooting to kill anyone who is still a threat inside of the wire. That will be three white star shell clusters. Hopefully it won't come to that, but we'll have to see how much headway these guys make and how many of them there are. BREAK."

When Rey spoke again his voice was steady and controlled.

"Remember to keep it cool, guys. Just relax and think of it as another day on the firing range. Remind yourself out load to 'aim low' and go for below the knees before you fire or you'll end up getting center of mass hits like you were trained. OVER."

All troopers in the fire team keyed their mikes and acknowledge the directive. Kyle shook his head with building frustration. He had fired thousands of projectiles for the last two years with the mantra 'shoot to kill' etched into his brain. Now it was 'shoot to wound him in the leg' on a moments notice.

Frigging army. Wound, kill - make up your mind!

The roaring from the trees continued for a minute and then abruptly stopped. A dead quiet fell over the entire field and distant trees. Although he could not see them, Kyle knew there were other firing positions all around the perimeter filled with troopers just like him. He wondered how many of them were already squeezing their triggers and if they were just as scared as he was.

Another roar, louder than the first, came from the distant trees. In one massive body, a wall of warriors burst forth from the dense underbrush at a full sprint. Kyle felt his heart leap in his chest at the sight of the hundreds of wild men heading straight for him.

Holy shit! Here they come!

A few banners fluttered as they came off to the left and a shining gleam of light from hand weapons made for an impressive display. Sprinkled in amongst the crowd was the occasional round-shield and a few helmets with horns protruding toward the front. Kyle found himself more in awe than afraid until the sound of Rey brought him back to reality.

"Okay guys! Remember, have a good firing posture. Make sure you stay within your sector stakes and keep good coverage on your area of responsibility. Take your weapon off of safe and wait for my command."

Kyle leaned against the wall of the bunker and pulled the carbine tight to his shoulder. He let his forward grip lay limp on a cut log and cradled the weapon gently in his hand. Except for the urge to piss himself, it felt very much like a day at the firing range.

Further down on the left there was scattered carbine fire.

Rey kept tight fire control over his two teams.

"Nervous troopers firing too soon. Don't be like that. Keep your aim low and pay attention while you shoot."

If I wasn't trying so hard to make out their legs I'd probably be shooting too.

The warriors screamed as they ran at full speed with no sign of faltering. Kyle noted that there could be a thousand of them. The natives continued to close the distance between them. Kyle remembered the last time he had to sprint a hundred meters in his combat armor and marveled at their stamina.

"....Ready...."

Kyle tightened his sight picture and selected his first target. The man was slightly taller than the rest and swung a hand axe over his head. He focused in on the man and remembered to go for the lower legs.

"....Aim....."

His vision began to blur and individual legs were impossible to make out in the shifting grass and glare of shining weapons.

I'm about to open a can of whoop ass on some Vikings!

"...aim low....FIRE!"

Buster opened up with a long burst from the light machinegun. Gunners were trained to be the first and last into action in order to achieve and maintain fire superiority. At the rate Buster fired he would need every last brick of the projectiles he had set out earlier.

Kyle focused back in on his target again. It was not a man but a target. It had no family, friends, or feelings. Kyle took up his sight picture again, aimed low and squeezed until the recoil of the weapon surprised him.

*CRACK!*

His eyes flew wide open and he saw the target as it tumbled to the ground.

I hope I didn't just kill you!

As he aimed lower, Kyle picked out the next in line.

Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze...

*CRACK!*

Buster fired in long bursts; to Kyle the rapid succession of shots became a background to his own effort.

*PACK-ACK-ACK-ACK-ACK-ACK-ACK-ACK!*

For a moment Kyle heard other firing elsewhere. He took up the next warrior who charged into his sights.

*CRACK!*

Down he went.

*CRACK!*

And another.

*CRACK!*

And another.

As the last target fell into the tall grass Kyle risked a quick glance at the rest of the mass of men who pressed in on the left flank. Along the entire line, holes gaped as enemy troops dropped like flies. The untouched enemy pressed the attack and sprinted at a full yell.

These guys are unbelievable! They just keep coming!

Slightly rushed, Kyle dropped back into his firing position and took up the next target. He barely remembered to drop his aim before he squeezed the trigger.

*CRACK!*

The target went down hard and Kyle took aim on the next victim. To himself he muttered out loud,

"Aim low."

*CRACK!*

Nothing. Kyle tightened his shot picture and went for the knees.

*CRACK!*

The warrior went down and the next one appeared in his sights.

*CRACK!*

Kyle frantically scanned his sector for another target but there was no one in front of him. He realized with a rush of relief that the attack on their front had been broken.

*PACK-ACK-ACK-ACK-ACK-ACK-ACK-ACK!*

Buster popped off the last burst and Kyle strained to see further to the left of their position. The entire field, for as far as he could see, was littered with writhing bodies. Some of the warriors limped and tried to stand on their remaining good limbs. Others lay there with their heads occasionally bobbing up before falling back to the ground in pain.

The entire enemy charge was ruined.

Kyle laughed out loud to himself. Buster suddenly leaned back from the machinegun with a huge grin on his face. The two gave a joyous whoop and started cheering to release the stark fear that had clung to their bodies. Kyle was the first to speak.

"Did you see that? Did you see that?"

"Yeah man, get some!"

Buster let out another wild whoop.

"Did you see them come? Straight at us man! Straight at us!"

Kyle nodded his head with relief written all over his face. Between them, the two had just mowed down several dozen enemy. Kyle was surprised at how numb he felt.

So much for noble combat.

A moment of guilt passed quickly, and he was just glad to be alive and breathing. The squad sat in their positions and slowly a cross chatter started between the holes on the radio. Buster had the gall to claim around a hundred casualties by himself. Rey cut into the conversation and reminded the gunners to check their ammo loads. He also told the rest of the teams to keep their eyes peeled for another push. Reeves muttered something about the counting ability of machine gunners and their poor eyesight. Rey cut in again,

"Hey, can it guys; we've got a fragmentary order. Reeves and Evans report to Sergeant Walther at the platoon assembly area. You're going out to secure prisoners and help haul wounded."

What?!

Kyle had not liked the idea of leaving the fighting position. After all that time making it nice and safe and now they had ordered him out of it. Buster was up in arms about being left to stay put.

"What?! Why the hell do I have to stay here?! Have Evans stay here and I'll go instead!"

Rey chimed back over the headphones.

"We have to continue to provide perimeter security and you're the man with the area defense weapon. Quit your belly aching and watch the trees on the far side of the field. The aid and litter teams may be coming back in a hurry if there is anyone else out there. Unless, of course, you want to give up your gunner slot to Evans, then you can be his assistant instead."

Buster just looked out of the firing window with disgust.

"Besides, they're probably going to end up carrying those bastards in on litters all day, in full combat armor, while you get to sit here in your nice hole waiting for more bad guys to show up so you can shoot them."

That appeared to placate the gunner, who looked over at Kyle.

"Fine. You bitches have fun."

Kyle shook his head and policed up his grenades before filing out of the position to join up with Reeves. He secured the grenades in carry pouches on his vest and hurried to keep up with the others who moved out ahead of him.

As the group filtered down to the platoon area it grew by several more before finally reaching Sergeant Walther. The man was still giving instructions in six different directions but appeared to have the situation under control. To Kyle, it appeared as though the sergeant had never stopped since last time he saw the man. He and Reeves were quickly directed to carry a few of the folding litters and they fell in behind one of the company medics. After a brief headcount the party continued down to the wire passage point. Beyond the narrow opening in the mono wire lay the field sprinkled with enemy.

The Lieutenant gathered them up.

"Alright! Listen up!"

The gaggle of troopers and medics fell silent. Holly stood to the right and behind the lieutenant with his arms crossed. His eyes briefly met with Kyle's before they continued on. Once satisfied he had their complete attention, Lieutenant Taylor proceeded.

"These guys were pissed, pumped, and ready to kill you. Now they're on the ground bleeding and in a lot of pain. Do not let them get the drop on you. Do not allow yourself to be stabbed by some meat head who doesn't know when he is beat."

The Lieutenant glanced at Kyle and the trooper simply gazed back.

Don't worry about me sir, I've got it covered.

"You will protect the docs with your lives. You will wait for orders from a sergeant before you do anything. The only standing order is that if we come under attack in the field you fall back to the passage point and the defensive positions while the firing line covers you. Do not stay out there, and shoot back if the order to withdraw is given. Don't give the enemy a covered approach up through our wire."

Kyle thought about trigger happy Buster who watched over them with the machinegun. He involuntarily shuddered, as the notion of being under the barrel of the disgruntled gunner seemed like a bad place to be.

"The security teams will advance past the enemy and secure the far tree line. Once they are in place and there is no danger of a second wave, the aid and litter teams will filter out to evacuate the wounded by priority. You knuckle heads understand me?"

The body of troopers murmured a unified acknowledgement. The Lieutenant turned and nodded his head to Holly before he disappeared down the trail toward the company headquarters. Holly stepped forward and gained their attention.

"Alright boys, keep your eyes and ears open! If you see someone about to hurt one of our people, shoot them in the head until they stop moving. No games, no dicking around. Watch out for arrows or other shit that might be launched from the trees, as there may be stragglers or a unit reserve still hiding out there. We're all going out and we're all coming back. Check?"

The gathered troopers replied as one.

Kyle paired up with Reeves and the two fell into line behind one of the medics by the name of Doc Roberts. Even though Roberts was roughly the same age as they were, it was not uncommon for the medics to be treated as parental figures. When the going got tough, and a trooper had his face hanging off or guts strewn out, it was the medics who would be counted on to do whatever was necessary to try and save them. This responsibility earned them a high level of respect from the other troopers in the ranks.

The aid and litter teams advanced through the passage point in the perimeter wire with Holly counting each trooper as they stepped out. The group entered the field and automatically began to spread out from the fatal funnel they found themselves in. The security elements carefully picked their way past the piles of fallen warriors who gathered in self protective clumps. Kyle could see the carbines of the teams pointed, as a warning, toward the hostile natives. He expected a sudden lunge and a shot from the passing troopers, but nothing happened.

A large man, who wore a sort of plaid over-garment, managed to hoist himself up and stood on one good leg. Around him the arms of his fellows propped him up. Before Kyle or anyone else could utter a warning the warrior hurled a hand axe at the back of a security team that had just maneuvered past. The weapon struck one of the troopers in the back with a hard knock.

As if on cue, the air filled with flung blades and light throwing axes from the various piles of wounded men around them. Kyle and Reeves quickly positioned themselves between the natives and Doc Roberts, although a feeble axe throw was the only item which landed near them.

A voice which Kyle had not recognized came in on the left headphone. It was the frequency used by the company.

"Anyone hurt?"

A long moment passed as the various team leaders checked on their people.

"Negative."

Troopers aimed and fired at the warriors who attempted a follow up. Unlike the previous engagement, these shots were meant to kill. Kyle watched several enemy fall dead in response. There were a few angry shouts from the security elements to the natives as if daring them to make another try. Holly boomed in over the helmet head phones.

"Alright, alright, let's settle down. Forget the bravado and focus on your jobs. Get past those jokers and set up the security screen so the litter teams can get to work."

Doc Roberts turned to Kyle and Reeves.

"Alright you two, follow me."

Kyle hopped up after Doc as he veered off to the right. He tightly clutched a folded litter in one hand and had a shoulder slung carbine at the ready in the other. The medic zeroed in on one of the warriors who had been shot in the last round of firing. Kyle noticed the similarity to the man who tried to kill him and could tell that he was beyond saving even before Doc uttered a word. The wounded were now close by and groaned in pain. The team neared a larger group of natives while a sergeant gestured for them to stay back.

"Hold here Doc. These guys are pretty pissed and still full of vinegar."

The warriors were gathered in a rough circle of protection, using their bodies and shields as a barrier. A few lay motionless near the back of the pack, and it was those who Doc tried to assess, in vain, from a distance. In exasperation he vented to the sergeant.

"I can't see how bad they are, but that guy looks like he's going to kick the bucket if we don't get him help, and quick!"

Roberts took a tentative step forward and the screen of wild men either growled or waved their spears and blades. The sergeant cautioned the medic.

"Easy Doc, they get a hold of you and they'll cut off your balls."

All around, the sea of wounded seemed to go on forever. Most had long hair tied in braids sporting a thick beard or goatee. Their faces were full of pain and anger. Many were bellowing unintelligible threats and some even spit at the troopers in contempt. Kyle noted that these warriors were far from beaten in spirit even though their legs had been shot out from under them. Some, even threateningly, waved axes or swords from where they lay stretched out on their backs or sides.

Doc placed his kit bag on the ground and carefully walked toward the group of natives with his empty hands clearly visible. He spoke with a calm, clear, reassuring voice.

"Easy guys, we're here to help. We're here to help you."

One of the warriors lunged a spear thrust that was far from striking, but clearly a warning. The sergeant leveled his carbine on the man and Roberts waved him off.

"No! Wait! He wasn't anywhere near me. I'm fine. Let it go."

The sergeant lowered the weapon, clearly aggravated.

"These fucking people! Don't they understand we're trying to help?"

Doc shook his head in reply.

"They had reason enough in their minds to fight us and we shot them in the ass. I don't think they'd be too willing to believe that we're here to help them at this point. We just have to keep our cool."

The warriors continued to yell and taunt the troopers. Kyle looked at Reeves, who nervously watched another cluster of angry men. Their voices had become hoarse with the constant bellowing.

If this keeps up we're going to have a blood bath on our hands.

The sergeant continued to grow more agitated, and Roberts more frantic, as the seriously wounded natives visibly worsened. It was clear to Kyle that the warriors were not going to back down. These men would fight with their last breath to protect their wounded even when beaten. He remembered the advice of his father.

You have to do what you think is right.

At that moment Kyle knew what that was. If he tried to get permission the sergeant was sure to overrule him. It was better to later beg for forgiveness than allow the man to muddle things now.

Kyle quickly placed the folded litter on the ground at his feet and laid his carbine against it. Reaching up he unclasped his helmet chin strap. Reeves glanced over and looked nervously back to the mass of natives. In a harsh whisper the scared trooper asked,

"Evans, what the hell are you doing?"

Kyle ignored him and placed the helmet on the ground. Reaching up he unclipped the keepers to his battle vest and released the catch on his body armor.

I have to get this off before the sergeant notices me or its game over.

Dropping his battle vest and armor to the ground Kyle reached down and pulled off his undershirt, baring his chest. Rarely exposed to the light of day for the past several months, his skin had remained a pasty white beneath his uniform and body armor.

The better for them to see.

Reeves looked confused and placed his own litter to the ground so he could take better hold of his carbine. Nervously he scanned the natives.

Kyle tried not to block the line of fire from the trooper in case some of the crazier natives came after him. He pulled his bayonet from its sheath and walked up behind Doc where the sergeant finally noticed him. The shock and anger that registered on the face of the latter were plain to see.

"What the FUCK do you think you're doing?!"

Doc turned and stared at the trooper who was stripped to the waist and holding the bayonet. Kyle looked nervously back at the medic, silently pleading for Roberts to understand what he was trying to do.

This is the only way. They're never going to yield in time.

Understanding dawned on Roberts and he stepped aside to allow Kyle to move forward where the wounded natives could clearly see him. Kyle held the bayonet high so that the blade was visible to his now silent audience. The sergeant started to utter something but Roberts quickly silenced him with a motion of his hand. Doc then nodded to Kyle who took a deep, calming breath.

Okay, here goes nothing!

In one slow motion Kyle dragged the edge of the blade across his chest from above his heart down to the lowermost right rib. He could feel the burn as the razor sliced effortlessly though his skin. Kyle kept focused in order to cut deeply enough to draw blood, but not so deep as to eviscerate himself. The sergeant stared at him in stunned disbelief.

"Holy... fucking.... shit..."

With the cut completed Kyle tried to determine if it was sufficiently deep without taking his eyes off his audience. They all stared at his torso and waited. Kyle took a slow, deep breath and held it. The burn increased across the whole length of the cut and a thin, crimson line appeared in stark contrast to the white skin which surrounded it. As the blood began to slowly ooze out of the cut, Kyle took the flat of the blade and gently spread the bright red substance. Having done this he twisted slowly for all of the silent warriors to see the wound. Every last set of eyes locked on him with intense curiosity. Without turning his head Kyle spoke over his shoulder to Roberts.

"Hey Doc? You think you can make a big show of bandaging me up for these guys to see?"

Roberts stepped up beside Kyle and pulled out a can of spray skin, careful not to block the view of the audience. He sprayed on the numbing agent mixed with elastic sulfa which would stop the bleeding and protect the wound.

Roberts then held up a piece of gauze bandage for the warriors to see before he wrapped it ceremoniously across the cut. The medic took Kyle by the hand and began to shake it in a slow and exaggerated manner.

"Smile Evans, smile. Look the happiest you've ever looked in your whole miserable life."

Kyle broke out in a huge forced smile and the two gave the most obnoxiously jovial laugh they could manage. Kyle asked Roberts,

"You think they get it?"

Roberts replied through a faux grin of his own.

"There's only one way to find out."

He looked down at the compromised warrior who was positioned amongst the group. Kyle slowly moved forward as the eyes of those surrounding the fallen man cautiously turned and looked at one native in particular within their midst. Kyle also looked to the man who, in turn, studied him with calculating eyes. Kyle gestured to the bandage on his own chest and then pointed to the sprawled figure. Roberts held out another roll of gauze for all of them to see.

Come on! It doesn't get any more obvious than this!

The native seemed to read the unspoken words. The others watch him in dead silence.

Either you let us help him or he is going to die!

The leader gazed with hard eyes at the troopers. The man took one last glance at the bandage before he tossed his hand axe to the ground. With a rough voice he gestured to the others and they slowly lowered their weapons and moved back.

The leader pointed to the fallen man and Doc quickly passed Kyle with his aid bag. The sergeant talked into his helmet microphone while Reeves covered the remaining warriors with his carbine. The sergeant spoke to Kyle with smoldering disapproval.

"Get your shit back on, 'hero'."

Kyle obediently backed over to his gear and got dressed. In a voice loud enough for only the young trooper to hear the sergeant muttered angrily,

"You do something like that again and I'll shoot you myself."

* * *