The Reservist by J R Handley & Jason Anspach & Nick Cole

Author:J R Handley & Jason Anspach & Nick Cole [Handley, J R & Anspach, Jason & Cole, Nick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Galaxy's Edge Press
Published: 2019-12-24T16:00:00+00:00

15

We left Kusiba the next morning, before the sun had crested the frost covered horizon. Unsurprisingly, we found our civilian allies had departed the city during the night. They left no trace that they’d ever been there, virtual ghosts.

“Creepy,” I muttered as I surveyed the abandoned city in the predawn light.

The rest of the legionnaires of Rage Company were still shaking off their grogginess when we marched into the fog. I’d been up for over an hour. Rank has its privileges… right?

“Pick up the pace,” Dwyer growled at everyone and no one.

We didn’t have far to go, but the terrain was treacherous, and we still had wounded leejes. Nothing so bad as before, but with our numbers so strained, anyone who could march on their own power and pull a trigger was coming along.

Headquarters provided us an assault shuttle to give covering fire, before returning us to the 9th once we’d successfully captured Camp Jericho.

“If we capture it,” I muttered.

“There’s a clearing three clicks ahead,” Captain Archer called into my comm. “Shuttle should be waiting for us there. Adjust course to the following.”

I saw a new vector pop up on my HUD. A slight change of direction. Uphill, of course. We trekked on, one boot in front of the other until we reached the shuttle.

The only real assistance the shuttle had been able to bring to the table was a resupply of blaster packs, nutrient bars, and whatever gooey nonsense that kept the medics doing their jobs. At least Doc Tran seemed thrilled with what was sent. Good enough for me. If Doc was happy, then my grunts were doubly pleased.

“Ocampo, get that gear redistributed. LR-01, out.”

Archer again, sounding more officious than he ever had. Pain was getting to him. I could handle the asshat mode, dealt with worse in the restaurant. Still, it was a letdown when I needed perking up the most.

We hadn’t even handed out the last blaster charge pack when the captain gave the order to move out. More curt sentences, clipped with a funny accent I hadn’t noticed before.

“Ocampo, 1st has rear guard again. Check your HUD, the TO&E updated as well. LR-01, out.”

In the final reshuffle to accommodate our wounded, I’d disbanded Gladiator Squad. Those leejes had been transferred to Lieutenant Larsen’s section and split up, filling out his own depleted teams. Larsen had a formidable fighting force at his disposal. And I… was given all the walking wounded. We labeled this collection of wounded warriors the Gimp Squad. The joke made by those exiting the shuttle was too good not to use again.

One of my new leejes stumbled over what would otherwise be an easy branch to step over. He grabbed my kit to steady himself, nearly taking me down in the process. “Sorry, sir.”

“All good, Private,” I said, once I righted myself and was sure that we weren’t both going down to take a snow bath.

I watched as Sergeant Dwyer halted long enough to let the trailing reservists hobble past, and then reclose ranks.

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