Chapter XV: Forward Progress
Becker leaned back and took a long drink from his beer. The men to both sides had many questions for him, and the talking was beginning to dry his mouth.
"So you were able to call in the support you needed?"
"Yeah," Becker replied. "Once the rest of the company was clear, we were given the green light to use the arty and air support as much as we needed."
"And you used it to clear a corridor for you and your boys to go through?"
"Yes. And my girls, mind you."
"Ha, I'd forgotten you had ladies in your platoon! I hope they don't get in the way much."
Becker shook his head. "Oh, no. They're really good fighters, and more than adequate motivation for the boys. I don't mind them being in the platoon at all."
"You do remember you're married, Dennis?"
"Why, yes, Fred, I do. And that has what exactly to do with this?"
Fred smiled. "I've seen some of those girls. It's not exactly hard to imagine a poor young officer falling for one of the girls under his command."
"Would you?"
"Fall for one? Yeah."
"Beyond that?"
"Well, I'm not stupid. Word would get out and Martha'd kill me."
"Exactly. Besides, what example would I be for my dear little Melissa?"
Fred laughed, and Dale, the man to Becker's other side, smiled while shaking his head. Before either got a chance to voice a reply, a loud cheer came from the corner of the room.
All three men turned and looked in that direction. There were men from the Median IV and men from Fred and Dale's regiment, the Cadelan II, sitting around a large table, watching Mel put
on a show. He appeared to be telling the tale of the platoon's harrowing escape, only with his own special brand of "special effects" added.
After another minute or so, and another rousing chorus, Fred turned to Becker and asked, "You want to go over there and check it out?"
"Sure, why not? He is one of my own."
Fred laughed, then got up and walked over to the table, Becker and Dale in tow.
As they approached, Mel saw them and stopped his act. He looked as if he'd been caught in some heinous act.
"Uh, Lieutenant... I, uh, didn't expect you. What are you doing here?"
Becker held up his drink, then sat down. "Drinking a beer and enjoying the show, of course. You will be kind enough to carry on for us, won't you?"
"Oh, er, yeah, sure."
"Good."
Mel looked around, then asked aloud, "Where was I?"
Bill shouted from the other side of the table. "You were about to tell us how, after we made it into the field, I
single-handedly took on the entire Eldar army and shot down all their tanks with my sniper rifle."
A round of laughter came up from everyone present. Mel glared at Bill. "That's not how it was, Bill, and you know it. It was me who saved the platoon's bacon, and the tanks, too."
More laughter followed. Becker shook his head, then held up a hand to quiet the audience. "Mel, I think you should just give us the unedited version, alright?"
Mel looked hurt. "But, sir, I was, you remember my charge..."
"Can it, Sanders. Tell the story."
"Yes, sir."
Becker leaned back and smiled as Mel continued. This was certainly a lot better than being trapped in the middle of an Eldar army. It was a good tonic for the men, and one for him too.
* * *
Sara was led to a bed and then helped into it by two nurses, then left to rest while they attended to other soldiers.
She looked around, but few faces were familiar to her. One of them, Mack, was in the bed beside her.
"Mack? You awake?" she asked softly.
He opened his eyes, then turned his head toward her. "Yes. I can't really sleep."
"How's your arm?"
Mack held up his right arm. The forearm was wrapped up tight with gauze and bandages, and blood seemed to be seeping through. "About as well as you'd think after having my gun fused with my arm."
"I'm sorry, it must hurt bad."
"'S not your fault, Sara. Don't worry."
"What happened to your pulse rifle?"
Mel sighed. "When it was first hit, its barrel was badly damaged. I tried moving it, and that's when I got hit. The shots went right through the rifle and some lodged in it while they kept going, dragging it into my arm. Then the thing's ammo goes haywire, spewing out energy, which burned my arm on top of the horrible injuries caused by the shuriken. The gun was a total loss.
"But," he added with a smile creeping onto his face, "I have been assured I can get another one."
"That's good. I know you liked it a lot."
"It's a good weapon. No kick, really, and it seems to have more hitting power than our autorifles."
Sara nodded, then said, "We really shouldn't talk so much about those things right now."
"You're right. I don't much like remembering it."
Sara laid on her bed for a few minutes before
Mack spoke up again. "Sara?"
"Yeah, Mack?"
"Do you think we'll see home anytime soon?"
"I don't know. I hope so. But I've heard that soldiers in the Imperial Guard either fight until they die or until their army has won a world, then they live on that world. I hope our case will be different."
"So do I. I want to see my family and my home at least one more time before I pass on to the Emperor." His voice was full of sorrow, and Sara decided not to respond.
After a few minutes, in which Sara saw more injured soldiers, some horribly maimed, brought in, a young nurse walked up to the side of her bed.
"Ma'am? You have a visitor."
"Oh? Who is it?"
The nurse stepped to the side to let someone pass. Sara was surprised to see Jim.
He walked up and knelt down beside her. "How you doing, doll?"
Sara smiled at him. "Much better now."
Jim laughed lightly, then put his hand on her right shoulder. "I'm talking about this."
Sara looked over at her shoulder, which was wrapped up to prevent more blood loss. "It'll be fine," she said.
Jim leaned down and kissed the bandages. "What was that for?" Sara asked.
"I've always been told you can make something that hurts feel better by kissing it."
"What if I said my lips hurt?"
"Well, we'd have to make them feel better," Jim said, leaning across her. He wrapped his arms around her, then gave her a long kiss.
Mack cleared his throat, then said, "You have an audience, you know."
Jim looked up and shot Mack a scowl. "So?"
"And, besides, couldn't you help me some? I've got a terrible pain on my buttocks, and I was wondering if you could lend me some of your healing prowess."
"Shut up, Mack," Jim said. Mack chuckled.
Jim leaned down where his mouth was just inches from Sara's right ear. "Be good."
"Aren't I always?"
Jim hooked a finger in Sara's bra, then pulled it out and let it snap back. "Good thing you've got this on," he whispered. "I'd hate for any of these men to see you topless."
"Mack already has."
"Well, aside from him. He's a friend. I have to go now, I was told I wouldn't have much time in here."
Sara reached up and wrapped her arms around Jim, putting her head on his shoulder. "Be back soon, okay?"
"I will, don't worry."
"And I'll get you back for that little snap."
"I do so hope you will," Jim said. He lowered her back to the bed, leaned over and kissed her, then back away. "I must depart now, my love. I shall return for you, and with an army of brave soldiers I will free you from this prison!"
Mack leaned on his right elbow, grimaced, then shouted out, "What about me, Jim? And the rest of your platoon buddies?"
"Sure, you too." Jim gave a last final wave, blew a kiss at Sara, then backed away and departed from the field hospital.
* * *
Becker walked into Colonel Reed's office. The colonel looked very tired, and papers were strewn about on his desk in a very disorganized fashion.
"You wanted to see me about something?" Becker asked.
"Yes, Lieutenant. I wanted to tell you personally. We're moving forward, to
Kamen."
"The front is moving?"
"Yes. The Eldar have shifted their forces to make a major push at the city. We haven't yet determined why
they've done this. There's no real explanation for it."
Becker closed his eyes, trying to recall what he'd read about the Eldar. Then he opened them again. "I remember reading that the Eldar are very
conscious of losses, and wouldn't ever willingly enter a situation that costs them a lot of lives."
"Your memory serves you well."
"A city fight is a meatgrinder. A war of attrition basically. That's something they can't afford, and wouldn't do unless pushed into it."
"Correct."
"There are no major movements of Imperial forces to surround them and cut off movement?"
"No. The Eldar army, before now, was spread around the country side. This is the first time they've come together, and we can't be sure how long they'll stay together."
"So nothing we're doing is pushing them into a fight in the city. So the only logical conclusion left is that they're going for something in the city."
Colonel Reed leaned back. "You just discovered what has us all scared witless, Becker. Whatever is in that city is important enough for the Eldar to try
desperate measures. Including massive surges, something they're not know to do very often."
Becker sat down, feeling suddenly very weary. "This isn't a good situation at all."
"What I wanted to know, Lieutenant, is whether you believed your troops would be ready for it yet."
"Sir?"
"I know they've taken a heavy toll lately, after being trapped by the Eldar. A lot of them are wounded. I wanted to know if you thought they could fight again."
"Frankly, sir, I believe they can, but I'd feel more comfortable if they were given a week to recover before doing so."
"I think I can give you that time. Your people are being thought of as heroes around here. You'll get your time."
"Thank you," Becker said. He stood, shook the colonel's hand, then left the office to make preparations for the move.
* * *
A week later, the trucks to carry One Platoon rumbled up. The rest of the Median IV had been moved, and only the single platoon
was left.
Bob hopped into a truck with the members of squads two and three. There was plenty of room inside, as many of the squads' members were being transported in special medical vehicles, due to their serious wounds.
Very little conversation
occurred between the soldiers. Many of them knew what they were going into, and others could guess just how bad the fighting would be.
Bob put those fears aside for a moment, and leaned back, shutting his eyes. He needed rest, as much as he could get. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep.
* * *
Jim looked around as the trucks entered
Kamen. He couldn't see much out of the back of the truck, but he could already see damaged buildings, and smoke rising in the distance. In one intersection they passed, the street signs were all
flattened, and the traffic signals had been torn down. It was not a pleasant sight.
The trucks stopped after twenty minutes of driving through the city, in an area that appeared unscathed.
A loud voice sounded over the internal commlink. "All troops, leave your vehicles. Repeat, all troops exit vehicles."
Jim did as the voice commanded, standing up and picking up his gear sack, his rifle, and his other belongings, and then walked to the back of the truck and hopped off. Behind him, other soldiers did the same.
They were greeted by a city of large grey buildings, each of them imposing by itself, but made even
more so by the lack of any small, or even moderately sized, buildings. Even a warehouse that stood in the area was rather large. On closer examination, Jim found it to have been converted into a tank shop, storing tanks and repairing them.
Lieutenant Becker rounded up the soldiers of the platoon and walked them over to a large
building, which had obviously once been a hotel. "This is your new barracks," he said. "As you'll see when we get inside, this will be as close to paradise as any of us have gotten in the past few months."
They walked inside, medics filing in behind them carry the wounded. Jim looked around, and was pleased to se a
luxurious looking lobby. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, and a desk to the side that had previously been used for reception had been converted for use checking soldiers in and out, and receiving supplies. Two large doors sat open, revealing a large dining area that had become the soldiers' mess. Another room, the convention hall, had been turned into a recreation room. The banquet hall had been converted into a briefing room.
Five elevators carried the soldiers up, and after four shuttlings all of the soldiers were on the second floor. It was plain now, with very little of the previous luxury still apparent, but the glistening white walls, the spotless
carpet (which would soon look more grey than its original pristine white), and lamp lights gave it a look altogether more pleasant than any military building they'd been in.
Becker stepped forward. "The platoon has been given this entire
floor to use. The rest of the company are on the floors above us. You may choose to take any room you like, but try to keep close to the rest of your squad. Each room has everything you'll need, and then some. It's amazing that in the rush to remove any 'extraneous' items from this building, all vids were left behind. And they work, too. You have showers, closets, the works. Use them wisely, and enjoy them while you can. One last word. Room 201 is mine. Do not enter it without knocking and getting reply from me. Dismissed."
The soldiers rushed to grab rooms, and Jim quickly found one with a large bed inside, double sized. The room was quite large, and was grand to look at. A mirror, vid set, large closet, two dressers, and a bathroom all made Jim feel very much comfortable with his selection.
He sat on the side of the bed, then began unpacking. Halfway through it, he heard the door open and close. He looked up, and saw Sara standing at the doorway with her gear.
"I was told you'd picked this room," she said.
Jim stood up and walked over to her. "You've been sprung from the doctors?"
"They couldn't keep me any longer. The shoulder's healing, and I insisted."
She walked past him, then tossed her stuff down on the floor beside the bed. "I think I can see why you chose this room. Nice bed."
Jim walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Big enough for two," he said.
"So you wouldn't mind me shacking up with you here, then, would you?"
Jim laughed. "Of course not. In fact," he said, slowly edging Sara's shirt up, "I think we should try out the bed and make sure it's to our liking."
Sara pulled away, then turned to look at Jim. He frowned. "What?"
She pointed to her shoulder. "Remember?"
"Oh." Jim's shoulders sagged. "Well, maybe later, then. I'll have to get those lousy Eldar back for ruining my day."
Sara sat on the bed and began unpacking her personal effects. "I'll be right alongside you making them pay, too, Jim."
"That's my girl," Jim said, sitting down. "Full of spunk!"
* * *
Mack walked down the streets of
Kamen, those that hadn't yet seen a fierce battle. He came upon a pub, and decided to walk in and have a drink.
He sat down on a stool at the counter. The bartender came over, and he ordered a beer. His drink came quickly, and he handed the bartender some money to cover it.
Mack sipped at his drink, feeling some of his tension ease away as the alcohol crept through his system.
A man sitting at the bar got up and moved to the stool beside Mack. He turned and looked at Mack.
"That's a heck of a wrapping on your arm."
Mack looked down at his arm, then back at the man. "Got hit with a few shuriken, and my gun lodged in. Then it pretty much blew up."
"Ow." The man offered his hand. "Joe Kurtz, Helian I."
Mack took the man's hand and shook it. "Mack Nelson, Median IV."
"I've heard some good things about that regiment," Joe said. "You guys have been through a lot, and always seem to come out on top."
"In a way."
"What do you mean?"
Mack frowned. "Yes, we survive for the most part. Yes, we beat horrendous odds. Yes, we come back from things we shouldn't, and inflict a lot of harm on our enemies. But every time, we come back without some of our friends. It's a win, but it doesn't feel like it very often."
"I understand," Joe said. "Just five days ago, we were over the east side of the city, doing a little patrol. Some Eldar came swooping by, just a real quick lightning attack, shoot some of us, then disappear. One of the men they shot was George, my friend since childhood."
Mack nodded. "That's the way it goes."
Joe looked down at his drink, then looked back up at Mack. Then he turned to the rest of the bar.
"I propose a toast!" he cried out. "To friends long gone, and to making the alien bastards pay for taking them away from us!"
"Hear, hear!" the patrons shouted, raising their glasses, some tapping them together to create a chink sound. Half the people in the pub downed their drinks in one gulp; the others went back to sipping.
Mack and Joe, now silent, sipped their drinks, thinking of friends now gone.
* * *
Bob sat on the edge of the roof, watching the city around him. He could see from his vantage point the buildings far way that had been damaged recently, the fires still burning, and the people moving about on the streets below him.
He heard footsteps behind him. Without looking, he had a good idea who it was. "Janet?"
She sat down beside, reaching over and putting an arm around his shoulders. "Why are you up here?"
"It's a refreshing change from seeing people I know might die soon, or happy folk going about their business, not realizing what it costs other people."
"You can't escape from life up here, Bob."
"I'm not trying to."
Janet didn't answer. Instead, they sat silent for a few minutes before she spoke again. "I put my stuff in your room."
Bob looked down at her, startled. "Why did you do that?"
"You need someone to stay with you to help you remember that you can't hide from things. You have to face your life, Bob. We all do. Our lives are all the same right now. We face down death on so many days, and we see friends die. Distancing ourselves won't make any of us feel better. Look at you. You're miserable. You need someone to help you get back to caring, not only about other people but about yourself."
"I suppose you think that person is you?"
"Why not?"
"I barely know you."
"I don't really know you any better. But maybe you can help me learn about you, tell me something. Help me help you."
"I don't know..."
"Yes, yes you do know, Bob."
Bob seemed lost in thought, his face tearing itself between emotions that ranged from fear to a flash of anger and something else. He himself couldn't sort out how he felt.
So, without provocation, he quickly turned, wrapped his arms around Janet, and gave her a kiss.
After a moment, he let go, then turned away,
embarrassed. He felt a hand on his back. "I'm sorry," he said.
"Why?"
"I don't know why I did that."
"You don't?"
"No. I don't."
He felt the hand leave his back, then two arms wrap around his chest. Janet pressed her cheek against his back, then said, "I think you need to sort yourself out, Bob."
His answer to that was much different.
"I know."
* * *
Becker picked up a movie, looked it
over, then put it back down. "Not my type."
Ian laughed. "You don't like action flicks, Dennis?"
"No. They just seem too fake to me."
Jim nodded. "I can understand that. Especially now."
"That's part of it," Becker said. "It doesn't feel right watching people shoot up other people, and enjoying it. Not after shooting at other sentient beings, and being shot back at by them myself."
Sara tugged on Becker's arm. "Come on. You need some music."
"What?" Becker said, but was unable to protest any further, as Sara dragged him to the music section of the store.
Ian rubbed his hands together. "Ah, now this is what I like." He picked up an AD and smiled. "Imperial Might's Soldiers album. I love these guys."
Becker fidgeted, then finally admitted, "I have to tell you, I'm into Glory and Arbitration myself."
"Wow, the old man has taste in music!" Jim exclaimed.
Sara slapped him on the shoulder. "He's only five years older than you."
"Still an old man..."
Becker glared at him, then turned back to the music rack. "What's that Ripcord disc I've been hearing about? 'Torn Gravchute'?"
Ian handed one of the ADs over the Becker. "Here you go. You really should check it out. Sure, they got a fast beat, but it really speaks to the soul."
"Thanks, I think I might take a copy back with me to the 'barracks' and listen to it."
The four then began to wander in different directions, checking out various selections of music. Becker looked down at the disc case in his hand. "Old man. Bah!"
* * *
Bill, Mel, Paul, and John walked through the bookstore, intent on finding one particular section. When they came upon it, they were very content.
"Ah," Bill said, "nothing like good old erotic tales and magazines!"
Paul looked between Bill and Paul. "Aren't you two forgetting something?"
Both turned and asked, "What?"
Paul shook his head. "The correct response would have been 'who'. Maybe I should have said someone instead of something."
"Eh?"
"Lisa and Jessy, you dolts! They're going to kill you if they find that stuff in your gear."
Bill smiled. "Lisa's very understanding."
Mel nodded. "And Jessy has some very interesting views on the use of erotic materials."
John nudged him with an elbow. "Don't rub it in, man."
"Hey, you can get your own girl."
"So how do we sneak these back into base?" John asked.
Bill smiled. "Simple. There's nothing in regs against having them."
Mel nodded. "Especially when you consider the pro-Imperial articles in some of the magazines. It's just entertainment with a little reaffirmation of faith mixed in."
Bill eyed Mel suspiciously. "You sound like you've had a lot of practice with this sort of thing."
Mel shrugged. "My mother
almost joined the Ecclesiarchy. She was concerned it might be a sin."
John slapped his forehead. "If only she could see you now."
"And?"
"You aren't the most sin-free boy around."
"Just how would you know?"
"Well I'm shacked up right beside you, and it's not like you make much effort to be quiet!"
"I'm sorry, was that jealousy I hear?"
Bill groaned. "You two don't stop this, I'm getting the Sarge to clear it up."
"You'd
get Bob?" Paul asked. "Wow, you're serious."
"I am. Now let's make our selections and get out of here. Before we
embarrass ourselves any further."
* * *
Sara sat on the edge of the bed, slowly removing her clothes and preparing to lay down.
Jim was already in the bed, propping his head up on his hands. He seemed lost in thought.
When she was done with her clothes, Sara slid into bed beside him, then waved her hand in front of his eyes. "HQ to Jim. Come in Jim."
Jim blinked, then looked over at her. "What?"
"You seemed
distracted there."
"Was I?"
"Yes, very much. You didn't even notice me."
"Sorry. I was just thinking, about some people."
"People? Like Alan? Or Lloyd, Justin, Andy, Jeff, Matt?"
Jim nodded. "Yeah."
"You don't have to always think about such horrible things. There are many happier things to think about, Jim."
"Like the fact that I'm laying in a bed next to a gorgeous girl, and neither of us have anything on?"
Sara lightly slapped Jim's face. "Do that again and I won't be so nice."
Jim smiled. "I like it when you're angry." His smile faded. "But, truth is, I have a hard time setting aside those thoughts. Because what happens tomorrow? Chances are we'll be thrown out into the fray again. And we'll probably lose another friend. Or maybe one of us will die. It's just hard to get out of the mind."
"Don't think about it, Jim. Don't ever think about it, if you can. If you keep worrying about tomorrow, you'll never realize what you have today. You'll never be happy, worrying about what's around the corner every day. Put it out of your mind, think about what you have here and now. It's the only way I get by."
"You're right. That's what I should do."
Sara nodded. "Now try to get some rest." She reached over
and pulled the lamp's chain, and Jim did the same on his side of the bed, plunging the room into darkness.
Sara began to lightly doze, when she heard Jim say something
"Sara?"
"What?"
"You never told me you'd shaved."
She dimly became aware of a hand on her. Sara's slap echoed in the room, and Jim's hand shot up to cup his now aching cheek. "Ow! That hurt!"
"Serves you right," Sara whispered. Then she turned on her side, and in minutes was asleep.
END OF CHAPTER XV
Continued
in Chapter XVI: Urban Hell
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