Her Last Battle

By Mr. David R. Dorrycott

Senior Marine Sergeant Ennea Darkwinds carefully studied the ruins below her, the scene stark even through her battered field glasses. It had been five months since the hundred hands had landed on this dustball planet. Heavy fighting and exposure had reduced that elite force of five hundred to, Ennea. Some she knew had been captured, a dozen at best. All the rest had died fighting, or by their own hands. A crack of broken twig below alerted her, quickly she glanced behind her at her last defensive position, a small grove of withered trees at the top of a rocky knoll. It was still clear, allowing her a short breath of relief. Turning back to her glasses she sighed. Even with scavenged power packs from her fallen comrades she was down to her last few shots. They would have her soon, and when they did they would strip her of her pelt while she still breathed. She fingered her Honor blade, knowing that it wouldn't be long now. They would kill her or she’d kill herself. Or her injuries would, for radiation sickness was already settling in. Without medical care the aliens couldn’t give, probably wouldn’t give, she’d be dead by months end anyway. Better a clean death Ennea decided.

Movement in the ruins below caught her attention, bringing a hungry smile to her furred face. Her friends were moving forward again, and just as clumsily as ever. Even after five months of combat they still hadn't learned how to move, not without kicking up enough dust to cover half the planet. She grimaced as pain shot up her spine from her missing tail, a wound gained the first week of combat. Giants though they may be they could still be killed. At a cost. She eased her rifle into position, covering the small depression several meters in front of the ruins just within range. After five months she had learned their tricks, while changing her's just enough to keep them guessing. They probably thought she was holed up in the rocks to her right, not laying in the middle of a weed strewn field almost in plain view. ‘Gods but what I would do for a drink of clean cold water’ she thought. She didn't even want to think how many days it had been since her last food.

Exactly as she’d expected heavy fire pummeled the rocky outcrop, shards of hot smoking stone landing almost on top of her. Moments later several forms rushed out, still laying suppression fire in random directions. Two rounds actually slamming into the earth just inches from her. She waited, waited until they had committed to the depression, only then did she return fire. In seconds her field was awash in fire as the pinned aliens vainly tried to locate her. Unlike their slug throwing weapons, her maser made little noise when used, making it difficult to locate her position. In minutes it was over, only the small group still hiding in the ruins remained. She could barely hear them, calling on their radio. It was seriously time to leave.

Sliding slowly through the ragged path, one she had cut the night before, she headed for her next position. Behind her she could still hear the aliens calling over their radio, commands she could not understand but by their pattern she knew they were calling another airstrike. Then her own comm beeped. Shocked she almost gave herself away, grabbing at the small device. With shaking fingers she activated the battered unit and spoke. "Delta seven, this is Delta Seven. I read you." She waited, listening to the soft crackle of the receiver.

"Delta Seven, this is Firewand Leader. How many and where" came the reply.

Ennea sighed as she rolled on her back, ignoring the pain of her infected tail stump while digging the battered map out of a leg pocket. "Firewand Rescue, one to pickup. I'm off the map about seven hundred klicks Northwest drop zone three, near a small town. I'm under fire and short of power. How long?" she asked.

There were several moments of silence before the answer came. "We have your area targeted. Give us a pickup point for a shuttle. Sorry, can't use the 'gate, its a tad bit busy up here."

Ennea glanced around, finally spotting a tall water tower almost a kilometer away. 'Long way' she thought, then decided to try it. "Water tower, about ninety meters high. Its a klick to my East." She started moving that way, leaving the useless map behind.

Within minutes she could hear the enemy squad moving out, starting their last hunt. Slipping over the edge of a small hillock she half-stood and began running, dropping her last two proximity mines as she moved. Behind her the enemy began the slow search of her trail, and the discovery of the present she had planted the night before. A muffled crump told her at least one alien wouldn't be looking anymore. Reaching an empty farmhouse she paused for breath, looking back along her newly broken trail. Minutes later the first alien slipped over the hill, sliding parallel to her trail. That one was smart the marine decoded. Ennea turned and, crouching again, began running for her life.

With a yell the alien began firing at her, rounds slamming into the earth just a few meters from her. Between the range, her broken run and the aliens excitement there was really little chance of being hit. Still she felt better when another muffled crump reached her and the rounds stopped hitting near her. Then she heard the scream of alien warplanes and automatically dove to the ground, landing on her back. Ignoring the fire that roared up from her bloody stump. She watched as three deadly birds flew over her, peeling off for their attack run. Then one exploded, the other two broke off professionally. Both clawing for altitude as three heavy Keeleuf space fighters screamed in. Exactly like Eagles against Hawks.

Taking advantage of the sudden turn of events she rolled to her feet again, running for the tower now only a few hundred meters away. Behind her more shouts and weapons fire slammed to earth, again striking closely around her. Above her an explosion announced the death of another skyfighter, but not which one. Then ahead of her a heavy ground assault shuttle roared in, marines diving out while it was still meters from the ground. It landed, hitting the ground so hard she could hear the armor protest even from her distance. Abruptly she made a mistake, sprinting in a straight line for the shuttle as more marines bailed out the open hatch.

Something hit her in the back, knocking her sprawling. She tried to get up but her legs refused. Reaching behind her she felt the shattered armor and slippery feel of blood. Painfully she turned to face the last aliens. Raising her rifle she fired once, then heard the squeal that told her the pack was dry. Dropping the now useless weapon she pulled her knife and waited. Above her fighters on both sides twisted, clawed, fought and died. Behind her the marines moved in, she could hear the shuttles heavy maser firing over her head, yet the aliens kept coming, kept firing. Then a Keeleuf flew over, her heavy weapons thundering while the earth before Ennea fountained up like a volcano. It was over. As pain washed over her the marines scrambled around her, making a protective triangle. Friendly hands reached for her as the welcome blackness rolled over, washing everything from her sight.

She woke smelling sickbays tart scent. Tried to roll on her back but found herself strapped down. Looking up she saw two marines in full battle gear standing at guard by her bed. Managing a grunt she got their attention, one of them taking her hand while the other called for the doctor. Carefully the second marine offered her a drink, though cold the water burned like fire as it cleared her throat. Coughing slightly she smiled, and in a weak voice thanked the marine as the doctor arrived.

The Doctor, probably twice Ennas age She smiled to her as she sat by the bed, the marines quietly returning to their original positions.

“Why marines?" Ennea asked weakly. The doctor patted Ennea's hand before answering. "Honor guard for a new marine legend they said, they demanded it. We didn't expect anyone alive down there. Not after five months alone. But old Ironclaw ignored orders, somehow got Survey to support us and in we went. Somehow she wasn't surprised to find someone alive, although your answer to our call did shock the rest of the crew."

Ennea tried to laugh, feeling twinges of pain when she did. "Another half day and there wouldn't be, what happened?" she asked. “And why do I feel so weak?

"The original fleet ended up being out gunned, out shipped" the doctor explained. "They retired with heavy losses after the last attempt to recover your Group, giving you up for lost. Even Command agreed that the chances of any Group surviving alone on an enemy planet was nil. Then Ironclaw has a dream, and the next thing you know we're Queel bound burning engines to get here."

"Thank you for that" Ennea replied, then looked back at her legs. "What about me?" she asked.

"Oh, " the doctor started, her face becoming grim, "It's not very good, the hit that cracked your armor shattered your back, ruptured too much inside. Your out of it. You... Your not long for this life” the Doctor admitted sadly. “I’m sorry. Two, three days. It’s all I can offer you.”

Ennea lay, shocked. Death. She’d expected it but.... “I need to make my report” she whispered. “Then... A letter?” At least she’d be dying among her own kind.

That made it all worth it.