Chapter VIII: Friendly Fire
Becker smiled and extended his hand as Captain Allen approached. Allen took his
hand, shaking it firmly.
"How are you, Dick?" Becker asked.
"Not so well. I haven't been able to get much rest, since I keep getting
requests for units of Charlie Company to be sent on all sorts of missions."
"Wow. Guess we impressed someone at the top, huh?"
Allen half-frowned. "Or pissed them off. We've been hurting the enemy, but
the company's down to something like forty-five percent strength."
"Ouch." Becker shook his head slowly, then said," I take it
you're here to inform me One Platoon has itself another mission?"
"Afraid so, Dennis. They want your men to go back down in the valley, take
care of some Tau that have been sticking around down in there. You'll leave
tomorrow at oh-five-hundred hours."
"Any special orders or requests?"
Allen frowned, his expression suddenly very grim. "Just come back
alive."
* * *
Jim sat on the edge of his bunk, listening to the lieutenant give the troops
their marching orders. Another day, another fight. Another chance to kill or be
killed.
He looked over at Sara. "Is it just me, or are these 'platoon-only'
missions getting a little routine?"
Sara shook her head. "Seems a bit odd to me. After all, we've been taking
so many casualties, dead and wounded, that I'd think they could find another
platoon that would perform better."
Bill looked over at the two. "We are the best out there, you know."
Jim nodded. "I've heard. But they're going to lose their best if they throw
us out there at every hint of the enemy."
"Don't you have faith in our skills, Jim?"
"Sure, Bill. But no group of soldiers can fight day after day for weeks
without end and still be as sharp as they need to be."
Bill said nothing in reply. The words were too true to argue with.
* * *
One Platoon assembled in front of their bunkroom, formed in ranks according to
squad.
Becker stood before them, his face a look somewhere between pride and fear. The
soldiers knew what they had to do. He didn't need to remind them.
As the troopers of the platoon finished getting in order, Becker heard several
footsteps approaching. He turned and saw the rest of the company, or at least
what was left of it, assembled and approaching.
"What's this?" he asked Captain Allen, swinging his arm in an arc to
encompass the approaching soldiers.
Allen half smiled. "Seems we're marching out with you, Dennis. They found
out there's more Tau than they thought, and they want us to rid the forest of
all of them."
"I'm glad you'll be coming along. WE need all the men we can get."
"As am I," the captain replied.
* * *
Jim marched through the forest, alongside other members of One Platoon. He
turned to Mel and asked, "What do you think this mission is really going to
be like?"
Mel frowned. "It's obviously not going to be the cake walk it was first
described as."
"Why do you say that?"
Mel motioned to the other platoons marching with them. "They suddenly made
a last minute decision to send the whole company, not one platoon. That suggests
they found out they were going to send troops against a larger force than they
thought. Who's to say if they even know how many Tau we'll be facing?"
Jim thought about that for a moment, then nodded. "You're right. It does
bring up a lot of questions."
"I just hope the guys at the top know what they're doing."
* * *
Mack crouched low. He was close to Becker and listened in on the discussion
being had on the comm links.
Captain Allen spoke into the comm first. "We have reached the enemy
position. They're certainly here in the river region."
An unidentified voice answered. "Good. Are you able to form an
attack?"
"Yes, sir. I was thinking of sending 1P and 5P to circle the enemy, send
2P, 3P, and 4P up the center, and give fire support with the Command
Platoon."
"A three-pronged attack?"
"Yes, sir."
"Sir, Becker here. I think it could work."
"Becker? Lieutenant, right? Can your men handle it?"
"Yes, I do believe they can."
"Allen?"
"Here, sir."
"Your plan is approved. Try to make sure you get every last one of those
bastards for us."
"Sure thing. Any other orders?"
"No, that's it."
Mack looked back to his fellow soldiers. He whispered, "Flank attack!"
Many curses came in return, then Becker returned and hushed them with a wave of
his hand.
Becker pointed f to a position ahead of the company's position. "The enemy
is up there," he said quietly, but loud enough for the entire platoon to
hear. "We'll be doing a flanking maneuver there." He pointed to a
position to the left of the enemy's position.
"We'll go when Captain Allen gives the signal. Any questions?"
None came, so Becker turned and crouched, waiting for the signal to come.
Moments later, it came. Captain Allen raised his hand and brought it down
sharply.
The entire company sprang up from their positions, moving quickly in the
direction they had been told to move. Little sound was made; the company had
done well learning stealth in the forest. Mack ran along with One Platoon,
moving to the left of the enemy. It was a quick jog, and before the troopers
could get settled into their new position the order to open fire came.
Mack jumped up, spraying the nearest Tau warriors with fire from his autorifle.
A few Tau fell to his fire. He howled in triumph, but that howl shortly turned
to a cry of terror.
Hundreds of Tau moved up from prone positions in the tall grass, or leapt out of
trees. They were facing a battalion's worth of Tau. And they were opening fire.
Energy bolts and rifle shots crisscrossed the jungle, shredding foliage and
downing many soldiers. Mack thought he was surely getting a sense of what a man
in hell must feel like, but the nightmare had just started.
From the sky began falling massive shells and plasma bolts. Each time one
touched down, an area was either shredded or completely annihilated with a blast
of raw energy. Thousands of such blasts began to come down around the forest,
indiscriminately causing death and destruction everywhere they touched down.
Becker screamed at the Platoon, "Fall back! Get out of here! Go, fucking
go, now!"
Mack grabbed up his rifle and began to run, not caring to keep himself hidden.
The Tau had a handful to worry about as it was, they'd have no time to worry
about the humans running from the hail of death falling from above. They
themselves would have to worry about escaping it.
Screams mingled with the explosion, and at least dozens of them were those of
humans, Mack cringed. He knew that meant many of the company soldiers had been
hit by the barrage, along with the Tau. He hoped it was none of his friends, but
he knew there was too much of a likelihood that at least one of his friends
would be dead after this day.
The troopers stopped running about a mile away, and as they dropped to the
ground to catch their breath, many of them turned and cursed the heavens, and
the Imperial Navy ships that had so callously bombarded the Imperial soldiers as
well as their foes.
The remnants of Charlie Company, a scant two hundred men at best, collapsed in
exhaustion, bloodied and saddened by the horrible disregard for their lives that
had just been shown by the upper echelons of command.
* * *
Becker knocked open the colonel's door. The door rebounded off the office's
wall, slamming shut as Becker nimbly dodged to the side.
"You have something to say, Lieutenant?" asked General Oswald.
"You're damn right I do!"
The general scowled. "I will not tolerate that language, Lieutenant."
"And I won't tolerate my men being used as target practice for the
Navy!"
"Why don't you site down, have a drink? It'll calm you down."
"I don't want a damn drink!" Becker screamed. "I want to know wy
you sent my men into a situation in which you knew you would be pounding the
area with heavy bombardment from the ships in orbit."
The general leaned back. "Honestly?"
"Yes," Becker said, barely restraining himself.
"We got from your man Oliver that the Tau were planning something near the
Kyrn River. We didn't know how big, sor whether they'd be in a certain position,
so we couldn't know how to combat them until we sent out some feeler units.
First were a few combat patrols, who let us know the Tau had a pretty sizeable
force waiting for us. Then we sent out your company, to assault the Tau, make
sure they were in a position we could track, and keep them there so we would be
able to bombard them with our orbiting warships."
Becker shook his head. "So that's all we were? Homing beacons for the
ships?"
The general frowned, then nodded. "In a sense, yes."
"So you killed all those men just to make sure you'd hit the Tau at the
right place?"
"Yes, Lieutenant, that's exactly what I did. I had to. The Tau were
bleeding us dry, I had to act quick to delver a hammer blow that would break the
back of their army on this world once and for all. That chance was given and I
took it. The loss of some Guardsmen, even a few hundred, is of little
consequence."
"Of little consequence?" Becker repeated, feeling his face burning
with his anger.
"Yes. They were acceptable losses for such a victory."
"Acceptable losses, my ass!" Becker, shouted. "You're killing off
more of my men than the Emperor-forsaken Tau are. And you hide behind a veil of
moral superiority. You're nothing but a murdering bastard, just like the
aliens."
"Careful what you say," the general scowled, leaning forward. "It
might get you brought up on charges of treason."
Becker held back a comment about the general's own treasonous acts, and decided
to end things at that. He yanked the office door open and stalked out of the
room, letting the door slam shut behind him.
* * *
Becker returned to One Platoon's bunk room, angrier now than ever before., He
walked into the building, and the troops around him immediately knew something
was wrong.
"What's the matter, Dennis?" Bill asked.
"I've just discovered what happened. We were used as bait for a trap for
the Tau. We were there to lure them into a spot where the ship could track our
location and then pound it with their guns." Becker sat down on his bunk,
shaking with his anger.
Sara looked up, her arms wrapped up in gauze medical roll. "So they just
followed us with their sensors until we found the enemy, then let rip?"
"That's about it," Becker said.
Dozens of protest sounded around the bunk room, but were extinguished as the
complainers slowly drained of their energy, exhausted from the battle and
distressed by the loss of five more of their own.
So many more worse bandages. They were covered in blood, dirt, and sweat. Many
had haunted looks, and some looked like they would have a hard time recovering
from the sight they had just witnessed.
Becker sighed, then closed his eyes and shook his head. But as he did so, the
screams of the young soldiers who were killed by the bombardment came back to
haunt him, complete with the images that were almost burned into his retina.
Becker's eyes snapped open, and all around he saw soldiers who looked as if they
were experiencing the same emotions as himself.
And for that, he pitied them.
END OF CHAPTER VIII
CONTINUED IN CHAPTER IX: A BITTERSWEET VICTORY
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