Deserts can always surprise you. They aren’t as lifeless as you might think, and only a few are nothing but rolling hills of sand. Most deserts are made of little vegetation standing alone among small tufts of brown grasses as they send roots down into the earth to cling to it against the winds.  Sometimes there are rolling hills, as there was this night, and off in the distance mountains interrupted the low horizon, soaring high above as if seeking freedom from gravity itself, only to finally end in snow-topped peaks. Or at least they would have, had it been daylight, but even at night you could see the shadows of the mountains in an eerie relief of the soft pink light cast by the larger of Daroon’s two moons. A desert night also brought with it more companions than just the nocturnal wildlife. It also brought a canopy of stars as far as the eye could see, as well as an opportunity to see Daroon’s moons in all their splendor, one a small moon that shown with a pale yellow light in the distance, and the second a much larger moon that was responsible for casting everything in its pink glow, a product of whatever mineral could be found on the moon’s surface.

Corporal Dorfman couldn’t help but enjoy the view while he waited, and did so for nearly three hours as he lay motionless on the ground, his prone, armored form hidden by one of the aforementioned gently rolling hills. Of course the recon armor’s ability to holographically adapt to its surroundings helped tremendously with remaining unseen. He was the tip of his fire team’s diamond formation, with his other fire team members to the left, right, and behind him. Not close enough so that all would die should one get cratered by something explosive, but not so far away as to be unable to work together as a team. They had been sent in with the task of eliminating the perimeter guards, and now it was nearing the appointed time. On his helmet’s HUD, a small, purple holographic display flickered to life, telling Corporal Dorfman that the time to act was upon them. He released a soft, disappointed sigh as he took his mind off of the beautiful night and mentally brought up a mini topographical map of the area while opening the fire team’s general communications channel.

“It’s time.” Corporal Dorfman said quietly. Seconds later came the muffled report of a sniper rifle as his team’s sniper began the task of taking out the patrollers they had scouted out some time ago, thanks to both their own recon as well as a live satellite feed sent to them by way of a highly encrypted data stream from their ship. Seconds after the first shot, the Corporal heard a second and third shot.  Though the sound didn’t carry far at all, he could hear it clearly, not far to his left. Three shots, three kills.

“That’s all of them.”  The sniper reported, his voice cool and controlled. Corporal Dorfman switched to his command channel and reported all patrollers taken out on the west side of the complex and waited.  Within seconds two similar reports came from recon teams to the south and east, leaving just the guard shack, and the main entrance to secure. That job fell to Corporal Dorfman’s fire team.

Switching back to the general channel, Dorfman said, “That’s all of them. On your feet.”  He didn’t bother saying anything else. The other three in his team had trained and fought together quite a few times before. They worked together like gears in a well-oiled machine. Each person knew what they had to do.

On the north side of the base, where the entrance lay, was the guard shack. It was a modular construct that was most likely dropped in by shuttle. It was roughly five feet wide and eight feet long, and had a half wall with a metal awning that swung up on hydraulic arms along one side of the guard shack, which could be closed in a firefight or when it was being moved. In the center of that same side was a turret with a .50 caliber rail gun that was fed by an ammo belt that draped down to a large ammo box on the floor, off to the side. There was but one entrance, facing towards the makeshift road leading up to the compound so that guards could clear anyone approaching the base. Opposite the entrance, a small table and two chairs were bolted into the metal floor, and along the side opposite the entrance were a couple of cots likewise bolted into the floor.  Last, but not least, was a small heating and cooling unit built into the back of the guard shack, an attempt to keep it habitable though the hot sun heated it up regardless of the special materials and paint on the shack that worked to deflect, or absorb and nullify, a majority of the sun’s rays. In many regards, the mercenaries working guard duty in the guard shack viewed it as more a punishment than a duty. It was like sitting in an oven. The regrouped recon team now quietly approached the guard shack from the rear, making short work of the guards there with silenced weapons. Switching to the command channel, Corporal Dorman gave Second Lieutenant Kemai the "all clear."

***

Second Lieutenant Kemai’s eyes were closed as he allowed the sounds and sensations of his surroundings wash over him.  In spite of the soft hum of his power suit’s environmental control system, a drop of sweat coursed its way down his scalp, making a run down the left side of his face.  Raijan felt the harness inside his power armor snug against him, wet with his sweat. It was lined with sensors that could detect his slightest movement and amplify them through the servos in his armor, which basically made it possible for him to be able to move while inside his armor. Without the sensors, and the servos to articulate his armor, he would have been like a turtle on its back. The harness was tight, so the sensors would be pulled snug against his body.

Beyond the sounds and sensations of his power armor, he heard the powerful, yet muffled hum of the hovercraft’s engine, and the friendly back-and-forth banter of the Marines around him. Taking a deep, calming breath, Raijan let it out with as soft sigh as he finally opened his eyes. The Marines around him were Helljumpers, the Marine squad known for their close quarter combat skills, as well as their skills at space-based boarding actions. Their first fire team was down a man, having lost corporal Wittaker in combat aboard the Choyo a few days before. In his place, the newly promoted Corporal Serms lead the team, with Grobnak back in action after the physicians on board The Black Wave were able to reconstruct the bones in his arm, and re-grow the musculature needed, after which medical nanites quickly grafted the new parts onto the big man’s reconstructed arm bone. Thanks to the long transit times from Gitmo to Daroon, they looked rested and eager.

The familiarity of having the Helljumpers around him was a comfort, for this was his first time commanding a full platoon of Marines, and he was more than a little nervous. He was also glad that his faceplate was down, obscuring what he imagined was a most shameful expression of fear or nervousness. He was confident in commanding a smaller unit, but he felt this command was a bit beyond his ability. He had wanted to refuse the command, but Hawke had once again artfully placed him in a situation in which he had to choose to stretch his abilities or bring dishonor on the Colonel by refusing the command. Raijan always thought it humorous that, in spite of proclaiming not to understand the "insane concept of honor," Colonel Bakore both exhibited such honor in spades, and wields it expertly, which is why he would follow the Colonel anywhere, even to certain death, without hesitation.

Raijan’s thoughts were interrupted when a holographic indicator on his helmet’s HUD flared to life, indicating a buffered message on his planetside command channel. Switching to the channel, he heard the "all clear" report from the recon squad assigned to take out the perimeter guards around the complex, and responded by ordering the squad to take up defensive positions around the entrance until he arrived with the rest of the Marines. Hearing confirmation of his order, Raijan thumped his armor clad fist against the side of the transport, getting the attention of the driver long enough to signal him to begin their approach.

With a roar, the Firefly surged forward, filling the transport with bangs and rattles as the restraints built into either side of the Firefly strained to hold the armored Marines in place as it quickly reached speeds in excess of 160KM an hour. The friendly banter faded as the Helljumpers fell silent and performed final checks on their weapons and mentally prepare themselves for what lay ahead. A few short minutes passed before the Firefly’s interior was lit with a soft red glow, the centuries-old tradition signaling the Marines inside to make final preparations, because the moment of their deployment was imminent.

"Faceplates down, HUD up!" Yelled Raijan tersely over the squad’s com channel. Following on the heels of his command, the Firefly lurched to a stop and the interior light changed to green.  The rear of the transport fell down, forming a ramp down to the ground as the Marines charged out, forming a perimeter. Nearby, three other Fireflies similarly disgorged their squads of Marines, one of which was equipped as an engineering squad, with powered armor suited with cutting lasers and of course the new demolition charges Gordy had rigged on the fly. The turret gunners on the Firefly’s kept a watchful eye on the entrance. Steeling himself, and swallowing down any remaining fear and nervousness, Raijan was all business as he began barking out orders.

“Engineers, move to breach.  Squads two and three, stack up.” Raijan briskly ordered. The team of engineers began moving towards the base entrance. Raijan tracked their progress, wondering again how effective they would be. He had never worked with combat engineers before. The armor for Marine Combat Engineers are a bit different. For starters, engineers do not carry the GAU-4X cannons typical of a Marine. Instead, the armor’s right hand was replaced with powerful claws capable of crushing, bending, or otherwise scrapping most known metals. They are also nasty in close quarters combat. On the left forearm is mounted another powerful tool, the cutting laser. The cutting laser is a thin beam, but has a much higher output in the number of mega joules it emits. This meant that the cutting laser is capable of slicing through nearly a foot of solid metal with surgical precision. Like the claw, cutting lasers are nasty in close quarters combat. If you consider that engineers routinely carry a variety of other tools for demolition, most notably various forms of explosives, along with the fact that their armor is about 3 centimeters thicker than the typical Marine’s power armor, you have the recipe for a very nasty, if slightly crazy, Marine Combat Engineer.

“I want everyone to be ready when…” Raijan’s orders were interrupted when geysers of sand shot up on either side of the base entrance as armored turrets sporting heavy laser cannons sprouted up out of the ground. Everything seemed to happen at once as the defensive turrets opened fire at two of the three Fireflies, burning a deep hole in their armor as the turret gunners on board the Fireflies returned fire. Caught in the open, the engineers charged the defensive turrets rather than falling back to find some cover behind the Fireflies. Most of the other Marines dropped to a knee and returned fire, or found cover behind the transports. Raijan and his squad of Helljumpers, led by Sergeant Jeremy Carroway, swung back behind their transport. Except for Grobnak, who merely growled and fired his heavy laser cannon at one of the defensive turrets, reducing large amounts of its armor to slag.

Then the Marines could no longer fire, as combat engineers had reached the defensive turrets. The turrets, sensing the approaching engineers and identifying them as a higher threat because of their proximity focused their fire on them. Raijan winced as the heavy laser beams hit the engineers, believing they would be quickly cut apart, but was surprised when their armor accepted the shots as they continued to charge. As the engineers reached the turrets, the team split, two to a turret, and put their powerful claws and cutting lasers to work, crushing the cannon barrels and cutting through the thick turret armor like a hot knife through butter, gutting the electronics inside. The turret to the right of the entrance detonated, sending one engineer to the ground, and the other into the air to land with a crash on his back. After a few moments, both began to stir, much to Raijan’s relief.

“They must be crazy.” Raijan said quietly to himself, not realizing he was on open coms.   Sergeant Carroway chuckled at his statement.

“They have to be. They’re Marine Combat Engineers.” Carroway replied. Raijan ignored the comment, slightly embarrassed that he had been overheard, and noticed that the team of engineers were back up and working on placing charges on the base’s entrance door without further prompting. The Marines from squads two and three had regrouped, and were now stacked to either side of the entrance, and within moments Sergeant Carroway reported the engineers ready to detonate the breaching charges. With a wave from Raijan, the engineers detonated the charges. The resulting explosion nearly disintegrated the thick door, shattering the center of it into countless pieces, and sending metal shards hurtling through the inside of the room behind it to a chorus of screams as it cut, maimed, and injured the soldiers within the immediate proximity of the door. The squads, who had already stacked to either side of the entrance, moved quickly inside, firing at any targets of opportunity, followed quickly by Lieutenant Kemai, Sergeant Carroway, and Squad 3.

Just inside the door, Raijan recognized the loading docks and the elevated office that he had seen in the holographic projection from the intelligence briefing hours before. Also there was the turret that had been noted by the display, but it was not a flechette gun. Instead, it was a laser cannon. Though not as powerful as the turrets outside, it was no less deadly. The Rejaians loved their lasers, Raijan absently noted, and their technology generally excelled in that area.

"We’re being watched." Sergeant Carroway noted to Raijan, pointing at a camera on the wall near the corner of the office overlooking the loading dock, and then at another camera mounted on the wall opposite the office. Raijan sighed and drew his mags, putting a round through both cameras.

"Engineering squad, secure that office. See if there’s a way to shut down the alarm, shut down the elevators, and secure any intelligence." Raijan ordered. As the engineering team thumped off in their heavy armor, the Lieutenant seemed to hesitate for a moment, and opened the general channel once again to issue more orders. "Corporal Dorfman, I need you at the loading docks to secure it. I want Fireflies one, two, and three to set up a perimeter patrol pattern.  Alert me if you encounter any resistance." Their acknowledgements came through the channel as Raijan pulled up the extrapolated map of the base. According to the map, there were but two ways to the lower levels, an emergency stairwell and an elevator shaft. He quickly realized that, after having a squad sweep and clear the second floor, he had no way of keeping it secure as both squads would be needed on the third and fourth floor to secure the chemical storage and production facilities. He did not like that, but then again it was a risk he had to take.

"Squads one and two, I want you both to sweep and clear the second floor. Kill any combatants, restrain and report any noncombatants. After that, squad 1 I want you to sweep and clear the offices around the production facility on the third floor, and squad 2, proceed to the fourth floor and secure it for our scientists." Raijan ordered. Even before he was finished handing out orders, squads one and two were already in motion, squad 1 making its way back towards the stairwell, and squad 2 prepping to hover down the elevator shaft to the second floor using their jetpacks.

"Koun, Kaihei-tai. Good luck, Marines." Raijan said softly.

***

On board The Fury, Hawke, Nathan, and Major Kinny monitored the progress of the forces on the ground as sounds of gunfire and explosions reverberated inside the operations room, along with shouted commands, punctuated by the occasional roar of defiance, grunt of pain, or scream. On the 2D displays mounted on the walls around the room, live camera feeds from each squad member could be seen, and a fierce firefight was quickly unfolding on each camera. Hawke hated this part. The watching, and waiting.

The Helljumpers cleared the second floor with minimal resistance, which was surprising, and at first they had all hoped that the base was not as heavily defended as they had believed. They had restrained a few scientists and other base workers, who were taken into custody by Corporal Dorfman and his force recon squad. Bringing the prisoners topside, they quickly loaded them into one of the fireflies and returned to Second Lieutenant Raijan’s makeshift command post in the office overlooking the entrance and the loading docks. Their problems began when squad 1 and two had split up, each taking one of the lower two floors. They had run into heavy resistance in the form of several squads of special forces soldiers in powered armor. By all accounts, it looked as if there were two enemy platoons entrenched there, outnumbering the Talon Marines severely.

"Pipe these feeds to Raijan’s helmet." Hawke commanded urgently to one of the communications specialists sitting at a workstation not far away. The communications specialist looked a little harried as he worked quickly to comply, a growing look of worry on his face.

"Sir, the system on the Lieutenant’s helmet was not optimized for platoon level command. It is having difficulty handling that kind of bandwidth." The man replied. Hawke threw a frustrated look Tasha’s way, whom he had asked to accompany them to the operations room. Though she still looked a little worse for wear, Hawke quickly came to realize that her skills were probably better than the communication’s officer on The Fury, though Captain Yost had claimed otherwise. Catching Hawke’s look, Tasha nodded once and moved over to stand beside the communications specialist and began quietly conferring with him. After a few minutes, Tasha straightened up and gave Hawke another nod, signaling that the video feeds were being transmitted. The corner of Hawke’s mouth turned up in a faint smile as he returned the nod, just long enough for Tasha to see it, but was interrupted by a particularly vicious explosion, punctuated by a thunderous crash as camera feeds of one of the Marines in squad 1 shook violently.

"Sir, we’re pinned down and they’re throwing conc-bombs at us!" Yelled a Marine over the general coms channel. "They are dug in at the other end of the hallway" Major Kinny looked like he wanted to jump through the camera and into the action as his hands gripped the banister around the large holoprojector and his gaze fixated on squad 1’s camera feeds.

***

"Sir, we’re pinned down, and they’re throwing conc-bombs at us!" Yelled a Marine over the general coms channel. Raijan was thankful for the video feeds someone had somehow managed to transmit to him from The Fury, though he knew that doing so should have been impossible. He switched to a live feed from squad 1 just in time to see a cylindrical object explode, and the air ripple as the sound impacted its surroundings with a high degree of force, sending one unlucky Marine who had happened to peek out from cover at that precise moment to catch some of the force of the detonation and go flying down the hall to crash into a wall and slump to the ground. Concussion bombs, or ’conc-bombs’ as they were called, was a favorite of Rejaian Special Forces. It was a cylindrical object that was launched with compressed air from a tube, or if they were desperate enough, could be thrown. They detonated by suddenly displacing air so brutally that a concussion is created, the same kind of concussion you would experience from a large, explosive charge, but without the fiery explosion. Though Marines caught in the blast of a conc-bomb were rarely killed, thanks to the efficiency of today’s power armor, the concussion would frequently blast them out of cover, and perhaps even stun anyone caught in its area of effect. If used frequently enough, conc-bombs could even damage hardened electronics, or eardrums.

"Squad 3, on me. Corporal Dorfman, you and your team keep the entrance secured. Staff Sergeant Carroway, with me." Raijan said, making a quick decision while running towards the elevator shaft. As Raijan, Carroway, Corporal Serms, Lance Corporal Grobnak, and PFC Delgato hovered down the shaft and landed just inside the elevator entrance to the third floor, the loud BANG’s of the conc-bombs could be heard, along with a copious amount of gunfire being exchanged. Pulling up the schematic for the base, Raijan noted that the extrapolated layout had changed as the Marines had conducted their ’sweep and clear’ operation, replacing the extrapolated portions of the floor plan with the new, verified layout. What he saw was that squad 1 was pinned down at the northwest corner of a hallway, and was receiving fire from further down the hallways to the south and east.  The enemies to the south had entrenched an office at southwest corner with a window facing towards the north, using it as cover while lobbing conc-bombs up the hallway towards the Marines. Meanwhile the other forces down the hallway to the east of the Talon Marines were attempting to advance on their position. The elevator shaft had brought them in behind the office from which the Rejaian soldiers were lobbing conc-bombs. With a feral grin, Raijan walked up to the wall that also adjoined the office in which the Rejaian soldiers were taking cover, and placed a breaching charge.

"You’re crazy!" Carroway yelled at Raijan, a split second before the room filled with a deadly roar and the wall blew into the office with debris screaming towards the backs of the special ops squad inside, slamming some of them down to the ground from the force of the explosion. In the clearing smoke, Raijan leapt through the breach, drawing what looked to be a glowing red katana, and drove it through the back armor, and body, of the nearest soldier who was holding his helmeted head while trying to clear it. With a scream, the soldier went down, while the other soldiers turned to face the unexpected threat. Drawing his mags, Raijan put a slug through two of the soldiers’ helmets as they tried to struggle to their feet, causing them to collapse like puppets whose strings had been suddenly cut.

Then the fight was joined as Grobnak, a Marine so large his armor had to be specially fitted to accommodate his bulk, bulled in, crashing into another SpecOps soldier who was bringing an assault rifle around to bear upon Raijan. They collided with such force that their impact against the far wall caused it to give away, spilling them both out into the corridor.  Carroway, Serms, and Delgato followed in the wake of Grobnak’s charge, both with wicked-looking combat knives which were made to scale for their powered armor, resembling something more like swords than knives had they held them without the benefit of their armor. Raijan managed to withdraw his katana and turned towards the remaining soldiers who had regained their feet, and advanced upon them.

While the Marine’s powered armor was made more for soaking up damage, the Rejaian powered armor that Raijan wore was specialized for the covert ops team he had once been a member of back before the four great empires dissolved their standing armies. It sacrificed some of its ability to soak up damage for speed and agility, perfect for teams needing to get in, and get out of places quickly. Raijan moved suddenly, leaping forward and planting a fist into and through the faceplate of one of the soldiers facing him while sweeping his laser-edged katana across the soft neckplate of the other. Both went down, one missing a head, and the other with his face crushed to a pulp from the amplified force of the blow. Turning back to his team, he saw that they had made short work of the enemy squad, bringing a successful completion to their ambush. The previously pinned marines of squad 1, realizing that they were no longer stuck in a crossfire, and that no further conc-bombs were being lobbed their way, renewed their attack on the other enemy squad attempting to advance on them from the east, finishing them off quickly.

"Squad 1, report." Raijan ordered.

" We have one injured, but ambulatory, and we’re clear."  Hefernan, the leader of squad 1, reported. Raijan nodded.

"Let’s finish clearing this floor, Squad 1." Raijan ordered, then added, "Send your wounded to the entrance to aid Corporal Dorfman’s team if they need it."

"Sending our wounded topside, yes sir." Hefernan responded. Satisfied that things had settled down, Raijan pulled up his schematic of the fourth floor, where squad 2 were supposed to be, and noticed that they seemed to be inside the room where large tanks spanning two floors were.

"Squad 2, report." Raijan called. He waited a moment, but received only silence. Concerned, he tried pulling up the live video feeds from their cameras, but only received static. Switching to the command channel, he contacted The Fury’s operations room.

"Black star to Talon One, I’m not getting a feed on Squad 2, nor can I get a response, can you ascertain their status?" Raijan asked as he frantically pulled up the remote medical readouts for squad 2. The readouts seemed erratic, though it he had no idea whether it was from interference caused by the structure, or if his squad was in trouble. Quickly switching back to his general channel, Raijan ordered squad three to follow him as he charged back through the hole they had blasted into the wall only minutes earlier, and back towards the elevator shaft.

***

Tasha Altihkova scowled in thought as she absently bit her lower lip, then indicated for the communications specialist she had been helping earlier to get up and let her sit at his station. As she sat, she began working furiously, pulling up several windows and examining several readouts. Hawke, having noticed the troubled look on Tasha’s face, quietly walked over to her while Nathan and Major Kinny’s eyes remained fixed on the live camera feeds and the holographic projection of the area of operations.

"Trouble?" Hawke prompted. Tasha absently held up a finger, indicating that Hawke should wait a moment as her eyes scanned myriad readouts as if looking for something in particular. Then, having found it, sighed as she turned towards the Colonel.

"The Second Lieutenant’s helmet didn’t have the proper software installed to command anything larger than a squad, much less a platoon. I’m afraid the live video feeds caused a part of his communications suite applications to crash. They are rebooting, but the data from squad 2 has been lost. Communications will be sketchy at best for the next three to five minutes while his helmet reboots the selected applications." Tasha reported. Hawke grimaced.

"We can’t reboot it faster?" Hawke asked. Tasha shook her head as she vacated her seat, allowing the communications specialist to resume his post.

"Nyet. It is the best we can do. We did not have time to upgrade his firmware over the wireless network. His hardware doesn’t know what to do with the data we were pushing." Tasha replied. Hawke nodded, and turned back towards the holoprojector as Raijan’s voice came over the command channel.

"Black star to Talon One, I’m not getting a feed on Squad 2, nor can I get a response, can you ascertain their status?" Raijan asked. Major Kinny looked at the live feeds for squad 2, and saw that they were engaged in a firefight inside the tank room as Special Forces soldiers performed a fighting withdrawal out of one of the two airlocks, and frowned. Nathan looked askance at Hawke, who informed the two of the situation. Nodding in understanding, the Major gave Hawke an expression as if to say, "May I?" Receiving an approving nod from Hawke, the Major opened a com channel to First Second Lieutenant Raijan.

"Black Star, this is Talon One. Your HUD is rebooting due to a malfunction. You will be able to re-establish contact in three to five minutes, but you don’t have that long. Squad 2 seems to be pinned inside the storage room." The Major reported, then seeing more details emerge from the live camera feed, the Major swallowed nervously and added, "They are trapped inside, and one of the storage tanks has been compromised."

***

Raijan knew that they had already cleared out a majority of the enemy forces. Intel had suggested, based on the number of racks in the barracks, that the most they would face would have been two platoons. Having eliminated a squad patrolling the perimeter, another squad at the entrance, and at least two more squads on the third floor, he knew that the fight was nearly over, but squad 2 had found themselves in quite the predicament. While making sure that the room with the storage tanks was empty of any hostiles in an attempt to secure it, they were ambushed as one of the two air locks was damaged, rendering it impassable. Then, performing a fighting withdrawal, the enemy had sealed them inside the storage tank room, while a parting shot had punctured one of the tanks holding Sarin gas.

That wasn’t the real problem, however, because their powered armor was engineered to operate in nearly any environment, including under water and in the vacuum of space. Each suit could sustain a Marine for several days, if needed. No, the real problem was that the emergency vacuum pumps responsible for sucking out the harmful gas and storing it in emergency containment tanks placed in a secondary environment had not performed their function. There was no way to safely remove the nerve gas without exposing it to the environment, which was not an acceptable risk.

***

Gordy ran a hand through his blond hair as he looked again at the schematics and frowned. The Rejaian forces had done a good job of sabotaging the emergency ventilation systems meant to suck out any Sarin leakage in the storage room and into storage tanks carefully isolated for that purpose. He usually liked facing these kinds of challenges, but this time, he was not so certain he would be able to fix it. It wasn’t just the pump that powered the vacuum that was sabotaged. If it was, it would have been easily enough replaced with another pump that could be jerry rigged for the duty, but the ventilation system itself had shown signs of hurried construction, and he didn’t think it could be relied upon to perform its function perfectly, which was surprising given the level of hazard the nerve gas represented. It would seem to him that the scientists would be extremely concerned about whether or not their backup systems worked.

Neither could he rebuild it. Not that he could not do it, or did not know how, but rather it was a matter of getting materials inside the containment area without letting any nerve gas escape, a feat even he could not perform. All he had to work with was the materials already inside the containment room. This meant he had access to whatever arms and armament the Marines inside had, the punctured tank, and maybe some pipe that was feeding the punctured tank in question, and a small tool box that some maintenance worker had conveniently left inside. Normally, that would be enough for Gordy to figure something out, but these circumstances were a little more out of the ordinary than the kind of problems he typically faced. Usually, his concerns centered around how to get a piece of ship equipment back up and running while under fire, or maintaining life support, or something like that. Dealing with biological threats is somewhat further down on my list of responsibilities, Gordy thought dryly. Next to him, doctor Hirsch cleared his throat, getting Gordy’s attention.

“We could use a couple of plasma grenades.” doctor Hirsch offered. “The flashpoint of Sarin is relatively low. The sudden heat induced by the grenades should incinerate it without any escaping.”  Gordy looked at doctor Hirsch in disbelief, shaking his head.

“It would also incinerate our Marines inside. We have no guarantees that they would live through the resulting firestorm in such a contained space.” Gordy disagreed.

“On the contrary,” the doctor argued, “their armor is engineered to handle this kind of abuse.”  Gordy sighed. He had this conversation with doctor Hirsch several times over the past few hours as they scrambled to work out a solution. When Hawke had learned of the situation below on the planet, he had sent a shuttle for both Gordy and the doctor, and told them to lead the group of scientists and engineers aboard The Fury to find a way to contain the Sarin and get the Marines out alive. Understandably the lead scientist and chief engineer were a bit put out having been informed, in no uncertain terms, that they would be suddenly finding themselves reporting to someone else. Now the two department heads, Lieutenant Commander Gordon, and doctor Hirsch were in a shared lab with all the other scientists and engineers, determined to find a solution to the problem. After the initial meeting of the new department heads, the bruised egos of the scientists and engineers were forgotten in the face of this new, challenging task. Such was the way of scientists and engineers.

“Sir, you are only partially correct.” Corrected one of the scientists, a woman named Teresa. “Under normal circumstances, the armor would probably endure it, but each Marine’s armor has been damaged – some severely so.” Gordy brought up a schematic of each of the Marines’ armor, and ran a quick diagnostic program. Parts of each Marine’s armor suddenly glowed red where the armor was nearly breached. One particular Marine’s armor was nearly all red. Doctor Hirsch shook his head, not believing how hard some of these Marines were on their armor, which brought a faint smile to Gordy’s face. Doctor Hirsch was the kind of man who understood science far better than combat. He had been recruited initially to help explore beyond the boundaries of empire space, and had surprisingly volunteered for this assignment. Just as surprisingly, Hawke had accepted his offer, for which Gordy was glad. While it seemed the man had no social graces, or the concept of what happens in the ‘real world’ of PMC’s, the man was a certifiable genius, and that was coming in handy right now.

“Well, what if they cut a hole in the punctured tank big enough they all crawl into? Wouldn’t the added protection help?” asked an Engineer. Gordy’s face took on a thoughtful expression as he considered the proposal, bringing up a schematic of the punctured and now empty storage tank. The metal of the tank certainly seemed thick enough, and if the plasma grenades were thrown in the far corner…Gordy smiled as he glanced at Doctor Hirsch, who was already nodding his agreement.

***

“You want us to do what?” Asked Corporal Goddard, not quite sure he had heard correctly. He listened again as the order was repeated, and then sighed. His men wouldn’t like this. He quietly relayed the order to the others in his squad and waited a few moments in silence for it to sink in. After a moment, the predictable hothead PFC Darby simply said, “Are they insane?” Corporal Goddard could not entirely disagree with that sentiment, but also realized that such an order was probably the only option they had of possibly getting out alive. Letting the Sarin gas out was simply unthinkable. The atrocity that occurred at the nearby village a couple of hours to the east was only the result of a minor spill. This had the potential to be much worse.

“Stow it, Darby, and cut us a hole.” Corporal Goddard said, giving Darby a light shove towards the punctured tank. With a resigned sigh, Darby drew a small charge typically used for breaching doors and stuck it on the tank, near where the puncture was. Jogging back towards the corner he yelled, “Fire in the hole!” The snickers of the other Marines at the unintended pun were lost in the sound of the small explosion that ripped open the tank just large enough for them to step through. Corporal Goddard took a moment to look at his men before ordering them inside. He knew he could not ask someone else to take this potentially life-threatening risk. Getting close to the entrance of the tank, Corporal Goddard opened a channel to Second Lieutenant Raijan.

“LT, we’re ready. Lobbing the plasma now.” Goddard reported. Through a carbosteel window he could see Second Lieutenant Raijan, along with squad three, and two corpsmen, waiting to enter into the cleansed facility. Swallowing nervously, Corporal Goddard gave Raijan a sharp nod, and lobbed two plasma grenades into the far corner of the room. Scrambling for the hole in the tank, Corporal Goddard put one leg through, and then ducked to bring his body inside the tank. For a moment, he thought he would make it completely inside, but his right leg was still on the outside of the tank when he felt the detonation of both grenades, and the room filled with the burning material of the sun, incinerating everything it touched. Corporal Goddard jerked his right leg frantically inside, unbalancing himself and falling onto his back. Alarms on his helmet’s HUD were beeping at him, and his armor began pumping emergency gels to the affected area, and injecting him full of pain meds and antibiotics. His HUD showed his right leg, below the knee, was blinking red. Corporal Goddard closed his eyes, afraid to look, as he opened his general coms channel and called for a corpsman. The drugs took full affect, causing a little disorientation and nausea as he waited for what seemed like mere seconds, but in reality was minutes as the corpsmen outside waited to verify that the Sarin that had leaked had indeed been incinerated.

“I’ve got you, corporal. You’ll be alright.”  Corporal Goddard heard over the general coms.  Corporal Goddard’s eyes slid open, giving him a strange view. He could see the blurry outline of the corpsman bent over him and others of his squad could be seen leaning in above him.

“Will you look at that? His armor melted right below the knee!” Darby said. Goddard saw that Darby’s face had gone pale. Another member of the squad smacked Darby hard on the back of his helmet with a loud "THUNK."

“Hey, what was that for?” Darby exclaimed.

“Shut up, private. Your coms channel is open.” Said the squad member who had smacked him.  That was all Corporal Goddard heard, for the corpsman had injected him with something from his medical supplies. His eyes slid shut, and the world went black.

***

Raijan watched as the corpsman worked on Corporal Goddard, and sighed. The Corporal would be out on medical for a few solar weeks while they replaced his lower leg and foot, assuming that was what the Corporal wanted. The Corporal’s armor must have suffered more damage than at first believed, for the plasma blast melted through the armor just below the knee, and scoured flesh, muscle, and bone away, turning it to ash. This operation had been costly, with four wounded and two more dead. Though he realized that the casualty rate was within the margin of acceptable losses, he could not help but feel like he had still failed in some way.

Checking the air quality reading on his helmet’s HUD, he made sure that the air quality was good before sliding back his faceplate. The other corpsman not working on Goddard had busied herself checking over the other Marines of Squad three. Satisfied that they were fine, she gave Raijan a “thumbs up,” to which Raijan felt no small amount of relief. Turning towards the corpsman working on the wounded Corporal, he waited for his report.

“Sir, he’ll be fine. Permission to move him topside?” Asked the corpsman who had been working on Corporal Goddard. Nodding, Raijan waved the corpsman to continue, and then opened a channel to The Fury.

“Black Star to Talon One, the base is secure."

Next Chapter: Chapter 15