Chapter Forty-Three - Hammer and Anvil |
Chapter Forty-Three - Hammer and Anvil
"There is a long-standing tradition in almost every armed force wherein certain groups earn a name and reputation for themselves and then ride that as far as they can. Special operations teams, strike groups, and entire divisions would all rather be called something other than a bundle of numbers. Humans, even warriors, crave an identity."
--Field Operations Manual for Morale and Soldier Happiness, 4th Ed. 2041
***
I had two choices:
One, I stayed here with Princess, then joined her and her sister underground where we could fight the aliens in the tunnels and clear them out, then come back up and take care of things above.
Or two, get back into my mech as quickly as possible and ride out of here. Hitting the enemy and stalling them out, which also happened to put several kilometres between me and Princess.
I picked option two. For strategic reasons.
"Whoa! So cool! I mean, yeah, you're right," Princess said with a quick nod.
I looked over at the strike group. A flatbed had driven over and was parking nearby. There were some crates strapped to the back, and three engineer-looking types hopped out. It was followed by two SUVs with more troops and, of all things, a cistern truck?
The strike group was redirected and brought closer to a flat spot over some concrete slabs, then the first of them was emptied out, the drivers hopping out of the ATTs and walking off a ways while stretching.
Then the truck was hosed down with a faintly greenish liquid that foamed a whole lot. "What is that?" I asked.
"Um," Princess said. She looked vacant for a moment and I noticed her throat moving. Subvocalization? She perked up a moment later. "It's decontamination foam. Since the group ran through some Antithesis. They do that to stop them from carrying any remains back. All it takes are a few seeds and some raw biomass for a tiny hive to start."
"Damn," I said. I knew as much. Everyone did, it was Antithesis bullshit 101, but it was hard to put that together with the wider consequences. How many aliens had we blown up? How many bits of them were spread out in the fields even now being hammered by artillery? That was a lot of square footage that would either need to be decontaminated or watched over for years.
"How long can an Antithesis seed go dormant for?" I asked.
"Oh, that's an easy one," Princess said. "Forever, under the right conditions, and since the right conditions are just about anything that isn't super extreme... uh, basically just forever?"
"I guess it doesn't get cold enough to break them?" I asked.
"It's warmer here in winter than it is up in space," she replied, and I didn't know how to refute that one.
It kinda put into perspective how fucked we were. On the other hand, a bit of vigilance and someone with a hoe and some Antithecide could kill a hive before it was the size of a bush.
"Alright, I'm gonna go cut this short. If we're heading back out we just need to resupply, refuel, then go, we don't need to be decontaminated twice," I said.
"If my sister was here, she'd probably say something about how it's procedure and how it's important. But she's not, so have fun!" Princess said with a cheeky grin.
Maybe she wasn't so bad. Still a bit much, but yeah.
I jogged over to the clean-up crew and spotted the guy in charge in a few seconds. There was just this look that middle managers had that made them stand out. I flagged him over, then explained things and he seemed ready to accept, but was still hesitating. "We usually don't want to get our gear in contact with the vehicles if they're still contaminated," he said.
"Your gear will be messed up one way or another," I said. "There's a million of the fuckers on the other side of the wall."
"I suppose," he said. "We'll switch over to rearming and refueling then. Ah, we brought a few types of ammunition, was there anything specific needed?"
"I don't think so? Actually, scratch that. Start the refueling, I'll do a, what do you call it, sit-rep? Yeah, I'll do that with the group and then the drivers and gunners can tell you what they want. It'll make it easier on everyone."
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"Yes, ma'am," he replied before he moved to give out orders. A few seconds later the pressure on the hose let up. I gave him a little salute, then wandered over to where most of the drivers and soldiers from the strike group were lingering.
There was a sudden tension as I approached, but I reached up and removed my helmet, tucking it under one arm and allowing my bullshit alien hair to cascade down into place like some action heroine crap out of a bad movie.
"Hey," I said. "Good job out there. All of you."
A few of them smiled, but the spokesperson for the group didn't. They were a hair shorter than me, with a few extra bars on their shoulders. Jaun Hatner, read the little nametag across their lapel. "That could have gone better, ma'am, we lost a vehicle."
"We lost an ATV," I said. "And the soldier in it was retrieved. How is he, by the way?"
Hatner pointed across the lot, and I squinted that way. There was an army-green ambulance parked that way, the back open. An EMT was looking over the pilot, who was sitting on a bench a few feet away. "He'll recover. Not much more than a few scratches, really."
"Cool," I said. "Harder to replace someone than something, right? We need every good pilot we have. I wasn't shitting you when I said you guys did good. But it's not over."
"We're going to have another sortie?" Hatner asked.
I didn't like the way that nearly all of them perked up at that. I was telling them that we were going to run off and maybe die, and this bunch looked excited about it.
I readjusted what I was going to say. I had a small mini-speech planned out in my head, but it was more 'grateful for your sacrifice' and less 'fuck it, we ball.' "Did you think I was done with this?" I asked. "There's still aliens to fuck up out there. I hope you guys aren't feeling tired because we have a lot of shit to take care of, and it's not going to be nearly as easy."
Hatner saluted, quick and crisp. "Yes, ma'am. We're ready."
"Give it a minute," I said. "I need... five myself. Grab a bite, drink some water. Ah, but before that... the situation. We're going to head out. We have a few kilometres of road, then we're hitting an active hive. It's pumping out aliens right into the river. We can't have that, because the fucks are swimming into the dam, and gunking shit up. So, Princess and Knight, the two samurai keeping things safe here, are going to be the anvil, and we'll be the hammer."
Hatner stood so straight that I wasn't sure they didn't have a cybernetic spine. "Strike Group Hammer will be ready, ma'am!"
The rest cheered and hooted, and I had to do everything in my power not to roll my eyes. Yeah, okay, this bunch was exactly the sort I'd need for this, but I wouldn't have minded a smidge more self-preservation.
I could live with it, though. "I don't know what kind of ammunition loadouts you'll need. Talk to... dammit, I didn't catch his name. That guy, over there. If anything is missing, come and bother me about it. We're not going to sit around and wait for requisition. The faster we get out there and hammer the aliens, the faster we'll be back. Got it?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Good. Once we're back, drinks are on me."
That was more of a symbolic gesture than anything, but it made them happy and it didn't cost me much. Even just a few alien kills would give me enough points to get them each a nice big bottle of something expensive.
Now... where was the nearest bathroom?
My quest for a washroom took a solid ten minutes, but eventually I was back, wiping my hands clean on the front of my pants and squinting into the midday sun. Somehow, the distant thumping of artillery from way down the wall had become normal. Closer to here, a few AA guns would occasionally turn and track, then fire at something, but it was a lot quieter.
I didn't see Princess anywhere, so I assumed that she was back underground, taking care of her end of all of this.
Which meant that it was about time that I did my own part.
I slid my helmet back on, adjusted it so that I didn't have hair in my face, then jogged over to the MEOW. We'd need a quick formation change if we were going to make this work, but I had a few ideas.
***