BROTHERS

Chapter IV: A Taste of Combat

Bill laced his boots, then stood up and grabbed his rifle.

"I hear we're going to be moving on a Tau position," he said, addressing no one in particular.

John looked over at him and frowned. "Yeah, that's the word going round."

"Anyone checked out the terrain on this world?" asked Mack, checking his rifle's firing chamber.

"Yeah, forestry everywhere. Trees, trees, trees," Bill said. "So what?"

Mack looked up, apparently satisfied the chamber was clean. "No tank support."

Bill thought about that for a moment. Mack was right. "Damn. But doesn't that mean no tank support for the enemy?"

Mack nodded. "But that's not all they have. I've been checking out anything I could about them. Seems they got these big suits like the Marine Tactical Dreadnought Armour. Big things with lots of weaponry, and small enough to move around in dense jungle."

"We got stuff to combat that, right? Autocannons and kraks."

Mack frowned. "Yeah, I guess so."

Bill looked around. "Anyone ask the Luey about Sentinel support?"

Greg raised his hand. "Not a bit of it available. It's us and any fire support we can be spared against whatever we find."

"Well, taking a defeatist attitude won't help, so I'll convince myself we'll win," Bill said, sitting down and checking the contents of his combat pack.

Mel looked over. "You don't need all that."

Bill looked in his direction. "No?"

"No. Just grab a few grenades, your canteen, and ammo, and put them on your webbing. Saves weight and space. No need for cooking gear, tent, bedroll, and all." Mack held up a sling of grenades that looked like they'd fit around the torso.

"Good idea."

* * *

A sound like something being torn in half caused Bob to look up. "What are you doing, Hal?"

Hal glanced at Bob, then went back to what he was doing. "Taping my ammo clips together, three to a set."

"Why?"

"Easy loading." Hal held up his rifle and a set of three ammo clips taped together. The middle clip was upside down. "We're going to run out of ammo sooner or later. So instead of fiddling in my sack, I just hit the release, then move these clips around so a fresh one is loaded. Takes only a fraction of the time to reload."

Bob nodded. Made perfect sense to him. "Where'd you hear about that?"

"My father told me, it was a trick the troops in his old unit used to do."

"Could I borrow the tape when you're done?"

"Sure."

* * *

Becker leaned against the wall of the barracks, smoking a cigarette. Sergeant Charles Bayron of fourth squad looked at him with a strange little smirk on his face.

"Those'll kill you," he said, pointing to the cigarette.

Becker didn't even remove it from his mouth before replying. "Better then than anything else, Chuck."

Bayron looked around the base, then up at the sky. "Beautiful day, huh?"

"Perfect for a stroll through enemy-held territory that hasn't even be scouted in the past two months."

"Such an optimist, Dennis."

"That's me, always seeing the bright side of things." Becker stepped away from the building and tossed the nearly-gone cigarette toward a trash bin. It missed and landed on the ground, still smoldering.

"Gotta' admit, these recruits are great. Never a dull moment. You just have to love them," Bayron said.

Becker stepped down on the cigarette, putting it out with his boot. "That's the problem."

"I'm sorry, I don't follow. How?"

"They're great kids..."

"You're just over their age yourself."

Becker scowled at Bayron. "...and they're heading off into a situation that, frankly, doesn't look all that good. We lose any people in the platoon, I'm going to feel horrible, and even more so for each lost past the first."

"We can't keep an emotional distance, Dennis. It didn't work for anyone else, it won't work for us."

Becker looked out across the base. "I just hope I'll lead them well enough that I don't have to worry about that."

"You will," Bayron said.

* * *

Mack walked forward with the rest of the platoon, indeed the rest of the company, as they made their way through the thick forest.

"Jim?"

Jim looked over at him. "Yeah?"

"You think we're going to see action today?" Mack asked.

Jim nodded. "I have a feeling we will."

"Are we ready for this?"

"I certainly hope so," Jim replied. "Otherwise, we're in big trouble."

"Yeah..." Mack said, trailing off.

He began to look around, trying to find some sign of Terry. He saw her just a few feet away.

He walked up to her, making sure to stay close to his squad. "Everything okay, Terry?"

She looked at him and Mack thought he saw a glint of fear in her eyes. "Sure."

"Will you be alright out here?"

Terry sighed. "Of course. I don't need your protection, Mack."

"That's not what I was suggesting," he said, taken aback by the comment.

Terry shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. I didn't mean to suggest you thought I needed your protection. But I am glad you're looking out for me."

Mack shifted his rifle to his left hand and then put his right arm around Terry's shoulders. I'm not going to let a thing happen to you."

"Thank you," Terry said.

Mack glanced toward his squad and saw Sergeant George motioning to him. "I gotta' get back with my squad."

He began walking back to the squad when Terry called his name. He turned, and she made a gesture as if kissing her fingers and then blowing it toward him. "Be careful!"

"Always," he said, smiling. He then got back in line, behind the other soldiers.

The company continued marching for almost two hours, into the late morning. When midday began to come around, Captain Allen called for a halt and ordered a break, and that people eat some c-rations to prevent hunger.

Mack eagerly obeyed orders, swiftly eating a ham and beans c-rat and leaning against a tree. The rest of the company similarly enjoyed the break, taking the time to joke amongst themselves, relieving some of the tension they all felt.

Then all hell broke loose.

A large number of alien warriors, presumably the Tau, moved at the top of a nearby termite hill. They opened fire on the lounging troopers, dropping a handful of them.

Mack grabbed his rifle, like so many others were now doing, and opened fire on the aliens. He was rewarded with seeing a few of them drop. But many more came to take their places.

"Fall back to defensible positions!" Captain Allen shouted, firing with his bolt pistol.

Mack decided following orders was definitely a good idea. He ran to a tree and jumped behind it.

Half kneeling, half crouching, he checked his rifle. It was still good to go with ammo. He twisted around the tree, letting off several small bursts of fire in the direction of the aliens. More of the creatures fell.

He looked up and saw others trying to flank the company. He began firing at them, frantically hoping to drive them away.

It didn't seem to be enough. There were hundreds, thousands of them.

Mack heard someone from the command platoon shouting into a commlink. It sounded like they were giving coordinates. He looked around, found he was close to other troopers, and was in no danger.

Pulses of energy and hails of bullets sounded all across the valley, echoing in its depths. With that sound came a new sound: the heavy thumping of artillery rounds striking home around the company.

But that did nothing to stop the alien attackers, who just kept coming, shouting orders in a language he could not understand.

Mack was now frightened. The aliens were dropping in droves, taking a few of the humans with them.

And yet still they kept on coming.

* * *

Mel looked around, trying to figure out what to do. Sergeant Hoover began shouting for the squad to follow him, so Mel ran along with the squad.

The squad ran to a line of trees, relatively close to the enemy. Blasts of energy rained down around the squad, but miraculously no one was hurt.

Hoover shouted back, "Fire at any presented targets!"

Mel took aim, began firing. He watched a couple of Tau soldiers go down from his fire. Others redirected their fire toward him.

Mary Task, holding the unit's commlink, shouted in the sergeant's direction. "Sir, the Lieutenant would like you to give him coordinates of the enemy positions. Says we're closer to them than any else in the platoon, maybe even the company."

Hoover looked around. Mel twisted around the tree he was using for cover and fired off several bursts, seeing a few Tau go down, then ducked back into cover. He heard the sergeant shout, "80934673!"

"Got it!" Mary yelled, then repeated the coordinates into the commlink.

Mel ducked low, using bushes for cover, and half-crawled to a position where Bill and Bob were taking cover with Paul Coffey

The chatter of automatic weapons fire, heavy weapons, and energy weapons made talking impossible. Mel shouted to Bill, "Got room for me?"

Bill shouted back, "Yeah, of course. We can concentrate our fire."

Mel joined his autorifle's firing with Bill's and Bob's autorifles and Paul's autopistol. They weren't anywhere near close enough to use Paul's flamer. After a few bursts that fell short, Paul ducked back in cover, cursed his pistol, and reholstered it.

Bob shouted, "We seem to be doing pretty good, I think we've gotten over a dozen of the blue bastards already."

Mel ducked back and looked in his direction. "Not bad."

Hoover's voice came loud and clear over any reply. "Incoming barrage!"

The four troopers took cover, along with the rest of second squad, ducked down. Suddenly the roar of explosions, no more than seventy yards away, washed over the din of battle. Heat flashed by the troopers, and Mel heard rattling as splinters from blasted trees came bounding down the hill.

A particularly heavy thud sounded, and Mel chanced a look around the trees. A pair of Tau soldiers had been knocked down the hill by the blasts. Mel swung his rifle around the tree and filled their bodies with bullets, making absolutely sure they were dead.

He then looked over at Hoover. "Sir, where do we go now? With the arty dropping up there, we can't do much more."

Hoover answered, "Move back toward the platoon. We need to support them."

The squad got up and made a dash for the rest of the platoon. Energy blasts followed them, coming close but not managing to hit any of the squad's members.

They caught up with the command squad and joined it and fourth squad in defending a cluster of dense bushes and trees. Heavy firepower came down around them.

Mel took a quick glance around the hectic battlefield. Artillery shells were raining down around the company in many locations. Multiple soldiers were hit by enemy fire.

He shook his head, trying not to think of the soldiers who were down. He turned to Bob. "Any sign of targets?"

"Plenty," Bob shouted. "Twenty yards away, big cluster."

Mel nodded. "How'd they penetrate that deep into the company?"

"How should I know?"

Mel shrugged, then joined Bob and Bill firing at the group of Tau. Others in the squad joined in the firing.

A wall of energy pulses came back at the squad, gouging great chunks from the trees. Mel cursed as he pulled a large splinter from his arm.

"You okay?" Paul asked.

"Yeah," Mel said, "just a bit of a cut. I'm fine."

He leaned back against the tree he was using for cover and took a deep breath. He just hoped the rest of the company was okay.

* * *

Jim dove into cover along with the rest of third squad.

A hail of energy bolts came down around them, tearing apart the ground they'd just been at. Two of the squad members were unlucky. Carl Witcher, the squad's commlink operator, was hit in the upper torso. The force of the hit spun him around as he came to land beside Jim. From the smoking charred crater in his chest and the lack of movement to indicate breathing, Jim knew he was dead. The stench of burnt flesh made him turn away.

Kelly Williams was also hit, but she wasn't too bad off. Her side was grazed by a shot. She landed at the tree line with the rest of the squad, letting out a groan.

Jim leaned over. It didn't look too good, but it seemed survivable. He had the squad's medi-pack, so he quickly pulled it out.

"I'm going to have to pull your shirt off for a moment, Kelly. Gotta' get to the wound."

She nodded, biting her lip to try to help with the pain.

Jim pulled her flak jacket off, then winced. He was going to have to pull her tank top away in a rather painful manner. It had been burned into the wound.

"Sorry, Kel, this is gonna' hurt like hell," he said. He propped her up, then quickly yanked her shirt up and off.

Kelly screamed in pain, and fell over on her side, reaching for the open wound. Blood came out, running down her side and stomach.

Jim pulled a roll of gauze out of the medi-pack, tearing off a long strip. He pulled Kelly up, put a bandage on the wound, then wrapped the gauze tightly around her stomach and the bandage. Her eyes watered with the pain, but she made no sound beyond a soft whimper as Jim pulled the gauze even tighter, then tied it so it wouldn't come off.

Jim picked Kelly's flak jacket up and helped her put it back on. "You should be okay now," he said. He handed her some pills and his canteen. "Take these, they'll help with the pain and make sure the wound doesn't get infected."

"Thanks," she replied. She took the pills and swallowed them down with a long drink from the canteen.

Jim took his canteen, then called for Sergeant George's attention. George came over and helped Kelly get to a safer position.

Jim crawled over Carl's body, grabbing up the commlink as he did so. He made his way to Sara's side.

"Hey, how you doing down here?"

She frowned. "Not the hottest. I think we're pinned down."

Jim nodded. "We're down Carl, and Kelly's hurt."

"Has she been helped?"

"Yeah, I got a bandage around it."

"Good," Sara said. She looked around the bush she used for cover. "Hey, I think we may have a target of opportunity."

Jim looked out, saw some Tau firing at another squad. "Yeah, I think you're right. Got your rifle ready?"

Sara held it up. "Of course." She took aim and began firing. Jim brought his autorifle up in firing position and did likewise.

A few of the Tau fell, then the two troopers ducked back into cover. Heavy explosions began sounding nearby as they did so.

"What's that?" Sara asked.

Jim listened, trying to make out what the sounds were. Then he realized what he was hearing, and it was music to his ears. "Artillery support. Seems we got lucky and there was some left to support us."

"Probably because there was no need to support the other companies," Mack said, sliding into the brush beside Jim.

"Yeah, seems like we got their share of the enemy," Jim said.

Jessy shouted in their direction, "Hey, they coulda' kept them!"

"Agreed," Jim said. "But since they're with us now, let's make sure we don't let this opportunity to show what we can do pass us by."

Mack gave him a hard stare. "Well, let's not let it kill us either," he said, then half stood, fired off a couple bursts, and dropped back to the ground.

"I have no intention of dying," Jim said.

"Nor I," Mack replied. "But sometimes you just ain't got a choice in the matter."

"We do, my friend," Jim said, jumping up and snapping off a couple shots himself. "And I fully intend to make my choice one of life."

* * *

Bill jumped from his position, trying to find out what had happened to the rest of the squad. He saw none of them as he made his one from one tree to the next.

One minute, they'd been with him. The next, they were separated. The chaos of the ambush was causing a lot of problems for the Guard company.

The whump-whump-whump of mortar explosions sounded close by, and Bill knew that meant he was getting too close to an enemy position. He listened for the sound again, then judged it to be to his right. So he turned left and moved quickly toward a large number of Guardsmen.

He dived into their position, the tree he'd just left being hit by a mass of energy pulses. He got up from where he'd landed, then wiped at his face to get the dust off. Blood smeared his hand, apparently coming from his nose.

A pair of arms reached out and yanked Bill forward. He looked up and saw Jim and Justin from third squad.

"Thanks, guys," he said, dusting himself off.

"What the hell are you doing here, Bill?" asked Justin.

"Eh, taking a stroll?" Bill said.

"Very funny. Where's your squad?"

Bill shuffled toward the bushes. "Dunno. We scattered 'cause of some heavy fire coming in, and all of a sudden we're scattered."

"Not good," Jim said. "We need to be covering each other. Our squad's already lost Carl, and I heard fourth squad's lost Luther and Hal."

"Ah, crap," Bill said. He glanced around, trying to get his hearings. "Everyone else okay in third and fourth?"

Jim nodded toward Sergeant George's position. "Kelly's been hit, she's with George."

"Ouch." Bill lifted his rifle to his face. He saw dirt inside, so he reached into the ejection chamber and swept out the dirt collecting there, then pointed the barrel toward the ground and shook the dirt out of it.

Wilbur stokes moved down the line of bushes, carrying his meltagun on his shoulder. "What's all the commotion?"

Justin pointed a thumb at Bill. "Bill here lost his squad."

Wilbur shook his head. "Hard to do with three great bods in it."

Bill glared at him. "That's not exactly how I keep track of them."

Wilbur looked disappointed. "Should be."

Bill nodded toward the meltagun. "Been able to use that any?"

"No, unfortunately not. I'd really love to watch one of these blue boys bake, though."

Bill shivered, imagining the effects of the meltagun.

Jim and Sara popped up simultaneously, firing short bursts. They both dropped, then Jessy fired over the bushes.

"You guys seem to have a good routine going here," Bill said.

"Oh yeah," Justin said. "We're doing great on the synchronized shooting."

Bill shook his head. "I thought you guys only joked like this on base."

Jim turned from surveying the enemy and looked at Bill. "How else do you think we stay sane out here?"

"Joking?" Bill asked.

Jim shrugged. "Relieves the stress. We've seen one of our squad mates killed, another wounded, and two guys from another squad downed. Without something to ease up all that tension, we'd probably snap sooner or later."

"Hadn't thought about that," Bob said. He looked past the bushes, saw a couple Tau taking aim in their direction. "Excuse me, ladies."

He stood up, firing a spray of shots across the two Tau, watched their armour get stitched with holes, then dropped back down. Through the bushes he could see the Tau drop.

"There," Justin said, "isn't that better?"

"Definitely," Bill replied, feeling himself ease up with the joke.

* * *

Bob crouched down behind a tree, holding his rifle close to his chest. He couldn't stop shaking.

All of the false bravado of a few minutes before was now past. There were no squad mates around to make him feel safe. He was by himself.

Alone, surrounded by enemy. This was his last day. He knew it. He could feel it. The fates conspired against him, and now they were going to kill him.

He looked around, and saw soldiers being hit, going down with a scream. Look at them, all running around, trying to escape their dooms. If he ran he'd be just like them, trying to escape something he couldn't get away from.

He closed his eyes, trying to block the pain around him. But it only locked out the images. The sounds still tore at him.

He fell to his side, and just laid there. He could feel wetness in his eyes, then down his cheeks. Was there something in his eyes?

This was it, then. He'd let everyone around him down. He sincerely hoped they weren't counting on him. That would be stupid, certainly.

He closed his eyes again, trying desperately to keep out the battle around him.

He opened them again in surprise. For some reason, he saw his father.

His father... the man's last words to Bob echoed in his ears. "We'll be rooting for you, Robert. We know you're brave, and you'll do your best for us."

Those words struck him like a slap from a heavy durasteel reinforced glove. He blinked.

His parents believed in him. Could he let them down so easily? What would they be told? He could imagine the letter to them.

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Oliver, I regret to inform you that your son, Robert, died on the field of battle. Not rescuing a fellow soldier, not doing his duty, but huddled up in a wimpy mass on the ground, crying his eyes out, whimpering like a kicked cat, and too frightened to do anything."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. But his parents' image stared back at him, their eyes full of accusation and shame, and heartbreak as well.

If he let himself die like this, it would kill them. They'd be crushed by the news, and it would be his fault.

Slowly, Bob got up. He couldn't let that happen. They'd been too good to him.

Bob looked around, saw some Tau stalking a unit of Guardsmen. With a howl of frustration, more at what he had just been doing than what he saw the Tau doing, he ran toward the enemy soldiers, firing his rifle.

The Tau looked at him in surprise. There were twelve of them. Twelve against a lone, crazed trooper. He yanked a grenade from his belt, pulling the pin with a free finger from his right hand, then threw it at the Tau.

The fragmentation grenade detonated in their midst, throwing shrapnel across them violently. Before they could recover, Bob was on them.

His bayonet fixed to his rifle, he stabbed one of the Tau with it, firing the autorifle just inches from their already pierced chest. He yanked the bayonet out, fired at another Tau, then stabbed another. The bayonet stuck, so he reached out with his foot and kicked the Tau off of it.

One of the few survivors of his charge began to take aim at him. He swung his rifle like an axe, slicing open their neck. Red blood splashed across his chest and face.

He swung the rifle like a madman, dispatching two others. One lone Tau was left, and he began running from Bob. Bob held up the rifle, took careful aim, and fired. The bullets went all the way through the Tau's head, turning his face into a bloody mess.

Bob stood for a moment, not doing anything. He was breathing very heavily.

Then he looked around his feet. Twelve enemy soldiers lay dead on the ground, all killed by his hand in under a minute.

With almost a detached indifference, he reached down, rolling over the body of the Tau squad's leader. He plucked a very ornate looking knife from the alien's belt, then slid it into his own belt.

Then came the realization he was standing in an open patch of ground. Bob looked around quickly, then dashed for a tree he saw, and crouched behind it, making sure it was between him and the enemy.

He leaned back and let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He had just gone from cowering in the shadow of a giant tree to butchering an entire squad of enemy soldiers. And he'd found the experience exhilarating. He was more mixed up than ever now.

* * *

Bill glanced out from behind the tree he was using for cover. He brought his head back behind cover quickly as a shot flew by his face, its heat making his right cheek feel as if someone has slapped it with a hot pan.

He saw that same shot impact on a tree that wasn't even four yards away. Splinters were thrown outward from the tree, and a charred pit marked where it had been hit.

Justin whistled. "Lucky!" he said. He popped up above the brush and fired a long burst at the Tau that had shot at Bill, managing to nail him before dropping back behind cover.

Bill glanced at the ammunition clip for his rifle. Less than half the clip remained. But he'd be able to swap it out for the last of the three clips taped together, then grab another quickly from his pack.

He leaned against the tree. His heart was pounding so loud he could hear it in his ears, even over the repeated explosions, whumps, roars, whines, and chatter caused by the weapons around him.

Then Jim grabbed his arm and pulled him over, pointing toward a tree close by. "Isn't that Bob?" he asked.

Bill squinted, and realized it did seem to be Bob. "Looks like him. I'm going to check. Cover me?"

"Sure thing," Jim said. He opened fire, letting off bursts of fire in every direction.

Bill ran out from behind the tree, running from tree to tree for cover, firing wildly toward any Tau he saw. He fired in a wide arc toward a group of Tau. Some were saved by their large shoulder guards. Others weren't so lucky.

Those who survived fired a volley of shots in Bill's direction, but that only made them better targets for Jim, whose shots ran across the Tau at head level scything through them like the Grim Reaper's blade of death.

Bill dropped in the grass, rolling as he did so. He finally came to rest against a pair of feet.

He looked up, his heartbeat becoming impossibly loud. But there, above him, was Bob.

Bob's face and flak jackets were covered with blood, looking as it it'd been splattered there like paint thrown at a wall. His eyes seemed to be a mask of anger and sadness at once.

Then he blinked his eyes, and his body jerked, as if coming out of a trance. He looked down and saw Bill, then yanked him up behind the tree. It was a pretty wide tree, but then so were all the other trees around the area.

Bill scrambled to a kneeling position, then took a look around.

All over the forest, men ran about, firing at the Tau, taking return fire. Some of them were hit, many of the aliens were. Screams of pain from both man and alien mingled, not only those of the dead, dying, and wounded, but also the wails of pain from soldiers who has seen their friends cut down by fire from the other side. Some of the Guardsmen cursed the Emperor for not giving them the protection they needed. Some of the aliens cursed the Greater Good for not caring about the casualties it inflicted.

Weapons fire, explosions, screams of pain. Bill shook his head. This was what hell must truly be like.

Bob looked over at him. "Were you with the rest of the squad?"

Bill frowned. "No. I'm not really sure what happened to them. I hope they're still alive."

"You and me both," Bob said. He stood up, then turned around the side of the tree, firing at enemy soldiers. He ducked back behind the tree before any return fire could be organized.

"This isn't exactly what I thought I'd be doing when I was 'volunteered,'" Bill said.

Bob gave him a lopsided smile. "War never seems to meet expectations."

"Except Death's."

"And maybe not even his." Bob slapped the ejection latch on his rifle, then rotated the taped clips and slapped a fresh one in. "I'm glad we learned this trick."

Bill nodded. "It's certainly been useful. So, how's your progress been?"

Bob pointed to the knife on his belt. "Got me a souvenir from a squad I took out."

"That where all the blood on you and your gun came from?" Bill asked.

"Yeah. Had to get close in."

Bill shook his head. "And here I've been hiding behind a tree all day. Glory hound."

Bob snorted. "Only doing my duty."

The serious tone behind that message made Bill wonder if there was some hidden meaning to it, but he decided to pass up on asking about it until after he was no longer in danger of being blasted by an alien soldier.

* * *

Several rounds of autorifle and heavy bore automatic weapons fire whipped by third squad's location, as did several blasts of energy from enemy rifles. Third squad's heavy bolter added to the exchange of fire.

Sara crouched low in cover, along with the rest of third squad. Jim looked at her with worry in his eyes. She nodded to let him know she was fine, and his relief at the reassurance was very visible.

Sergeant George shouted down towards where she and the others were taking cover. "We're going to be moving closer to the enemy, trying to make a decisive move on them that'll break their line. Third squad is leading the charge with fourth and first squads. Our heavy bolter team is staying here with Williams. Get ready, men... MOVE!"

Three squads, or at least those of them still able and not manning a heavy weapon, rose up from cover and began running forward, several more squads following. Sara fired her rifle at any Tau that she saw, downing a few in the process.

The squads moved forward quickly, slamming into the Tau lines like a sledgehammer into a heavy metal bulkhead. Fire was exchanged at close range.

Sara raised her rifle to fire once more as she ran, then tripped and fell.

She hit her head against something soft. She lifted her face and saw camouflage beneath her. A low buzzing and a horrible stench surrounded her. She looked up.

She realized she was lying on a dead Guardsmen, shot through the stomach by an alien weapon. Flies were already feeding off the body.

Sara tried to get back up, but fell back to her hands and knees. Unable to stand the sight or the stench any longer, she vomited violently. Her nostrils, throat, and mouth stung from the acid that passed through. She weakly pushed herself off the corpse, then ran into something else.

A dead alien soldier, his face ripped up by autorifle fire.

Sara's stomach heaved and she threw up again. Then she closed her eyes and used herself as leverage to stand.

Once she was back on her feet, she grabbed her canteen and poured water over her face and into her mouth, then just as quickly spat it back out. It washed away most of the vomit, leaving only her throat raw and burning. She downed the rest of the water in a single gulp, then dropped the canteen back at her side.

An energy blast whisked by her leg, melting part of the fabric and leaving a nasty red spot. She quickly grabbed her rifle up from where it was swinging on its shoulder strap, and fired at an approaching alien soldier.

The rush of Guardsmen from behind pushed her back forward into the lead squads, who were now locked in close combat with the Tau. She pulled her bayonet and attached it to the front of her rifle.

Sara barely had time to raise the rifle and thrust it forward as a Tau rushed her. The alien impaled itself on her rifle, his arm flailing forward as his momentum was brought to a sudden halt. The tip of some curved blade caught Sara's cheek, slicing a thin line across it. She yanked her bayonet back and let the Tau drop, then wiped blood from her cheek.

Another alien came at her from the side, and she swung her rifle toward it, slicing its chest open with a sickening sound that reminded her of a heavy knife cutting open a melon. She fired into the face of another, then barely had time to block the incoming blade of yet another Tau's knife.

She kicked at the Tau whose blade she'd blocked, then fired into his chest. Then she ran toward another pair, firing at them. They both fell.

And with that, she was out of ammunition.

With no time to change clips, Sara kept going, using her momentum to impale another Tau. She pulled out the blade, then stabbed another in the side. Others came at her and she dropped to a crouch, slicing upwards with the bayonet and cutting them both open. One fell and the other grabbed her, shouting some hideous curse at her as he tried to strangle her. She pulled her combat knife and rammed it into the alien's chest. He kept squeezing her neck, so she pulled the knife out and thrust it into his chest again, and again, and again, until his grip finally slackened and he rolled off of her.

Sara got to her knees, gasping for air. She was covered in the blood of the aliens, from her hair on her head right down to her boots. The bodies of the Tau she'd just killed lay around her.

She slowly stood up, putting her knife back in its sheath and grabbing her rifle up again. As she did so, a cheer began to form around her, then grew louder and louder. She looked around, then realized what it was for.

The last shreds of the Tau army were retreating. As they left, sporadic fire from the victorious Guardsmen tore into them, cutting down more of the aliens.

The Guardsmen had won. But as Sara looked around, noticing so many camouflaged bodies lying with the hundreds of armoured bodies, she couldn't help but wonder at what cost the victory had come.

* * *

Bob sat on his bunk, still filthy and covered in blood from the battle. Around him his fellow soldiers sat in silence, waiting for word from Becker about how the battle had turned out.

Becker finished talking on the commlink in his office, and stepped out into the bunkroom. All eyes turned to him.

"As I'm sure you're all guessed, we have been congratulated for the fine job Charlie Company did. Seems we got very unlucky in our little patrol, and found the main concentration of Tau forces. This has been verified by scans of the rest of the area by other units of the Median IV.

"I'm not going to parley around what you all want to know with words of congratulations or any of that nonsense. You all know how well you did, you don't need me to pat you on the back. Hell, you've got each other to do that. And more.

"Charlie Company lost one hundred sixty-seven men today, a full half of the company. The most amazing thing for everyone involved is that One Platoon only lost six of its members. This may have been more if not for the medics in the platoon. Thanks to them, several are alive who wouldn't otherwise be. The same is true throughout the company.

"But alive does not mean 'combat ready.' Another ninety-two troopers in Charlie Company are wounded to a point they are unable to perform combat duties, including ten of One Platoon's members.

"The most surprising thing about the low number of casualties for our platoon is that One Platoon was at the front of the fighting the whole time, taking on the greatest concentrations of enemy soldiers. It speaks volumes of our ability, dedication, and loyalty to ourselves, and our cause, that we were able to perform such a feat. But don't think it will always be like that. Things will only remain this way if you continue to look out for each other.

"Last, but certainly not least, is the effect on the enemy. An estimated twenty-nine hundred Tau are dead, with over two hundred wounded. A dozen prisoners were taking captive, and are now being interrogated. I suppose we should give thanks to the Arty for their support, but who wants to give those cheeky bastards yet another reason to brag?"

Becker hesitated, then added, "My heartiest congratulations, and thanks, to you all."

He finished and walked back into his office, closing the door behind him.

Bob stretched his legs. A high cost... but a good return. They had dealt a hammer blow to the Tau.

Bob stood up and looked at himself. He was absolutely filthy. He reached down and pulled his knife and the knife he'd taken off the dead Tau from his belt and laid them on the chest next to his bunk. He then removed his other gear, laying it on the chest as well.

Then he turned and headed for the shower room, which seemed to be a very popular spot at that moment.

* * *

The water running down the drain was more than a little red. Bob closed his eyes and tried not to think about it, rinsing off the soap lather on his body.

He reached down and turned the water off, then stepped out of the stall and accepted a towel from Bill. He had a look of worry in his eyes.

"Something wrong, Bill?" Bob asked, using the towel to dry his face.

"Yeah," Bill whispered. "You. What was up out there, in the battle?"

Bob looked at Bill and shook his head. "Don't ask. It's passed. I'm okay, and I'm going to stay that way."

"What 'passed?'"

"Don't worry about it," Bob said, tossing the towel to the side.

Bill shrugged. "Fine. I'll take your word for it." Then he left the shower room.

Bob walked to his locker and pulled out a clean change of clothes. As he was leaning over, he felt a slap on his rear. He jumped and spun around.

Jessy Kline stood in front of him, her arms crossed. Then she looked down and smirked. "Might want to cover up."

Bob scowled at her. "Not like it matters. I seriously doubt there's a person here who hasn't seen every part of me."

Jessy just smiled back.

Bob closed his locker, then tossed his clothes down and began dressing. "And just what the hell did you do that for anyway?"

"Get your attention, of course," she replied.

"Oh? And why did you want it?"

"You're cute when you're angry. But that's not it." Jessy stepped forward and lowered her voice. She was suddenly more serious that Bob had ever seen her, and that put him on guard. "I know you went through something out there in the battle, Bob. You can't hide that from everyone."

"It's fine," Bob snapped. "I'm fine."

Jessy sighed. "You can't go on denying it and hope you'll be okay. If you have a problem with something, we can help. We're family now, remember?"

"Yeah," Bob said. "You're just like an annoying little sister that always nags."

Jessy smiled at the comment, but just as quickly as it appeared the smile faded. "I'm only trying to help, Bob."

"I don't want your damn help!" Bob snapped.

Jessy stepped back, as if someone had struck her. Her eyes held a look of both fear and concern. "Well, then... if that's how you feel..."

She turned and began walking toward the door.

Bob's shoulders sagged. This was not going well. "No, wait, Jessy. Jessy! I'm sorry, I didn't mean that!" he shouted.

Jessy turned around, and Bob could see her eyes watering. "Yes, Bob. I believe you did." Then she walked through the door to the shower room and slammed it behind her.

Bob looked around, saw others looking at him. As they saw him looking, they each turned their heads away.

He turned around and kicked his locker. This wasn't the way to do things at all.

END CHAPTER IV
CONTINUED IN CHAPTER V: THE HUNTERS