17
Rev wasn’t even given two full days to whip Pierson into shape. The regiment had been told they’d be shipping out on the fourteenth, but on the tenth, the strategic situation had changed. Beacon, one of the eighteen charter worlds, had been invaded, and New Mars was gathering forces to take it back. The two New Hope divisions were given twelve hours to be off the planet and on their way.
Understandably, the base turned into a madhouse. Supplies, weapons, and ordnance had already been partially staged, but not enough was ready. Breaking all sorts of regulations, civilians were brought onto the base to help speed up the process.
Rev knew the logistics were going to be tough, but as light infantry, all the Raiders had to do was draw their weapons and ordnance and pack their kits. That would take an hour, maybe two. So that gave him almost ten hours of training, and he wasn’t going to waste it.
He tracked down the team leader who was arguing with a combat support staff sergeant, and the staff sergeant wasn’t backing down over whatever was the bone of contention. Rev didn’t wait for him to finish.
“Master Guns, I need to take Wheng and Pierson back to the range. I figure I can get ten hours in and still make the load out.”
The master guns spun around in exasperation, and Rev thought he was going to explode on him, but the team leader took control of himself and said, “That’s cutting it too close. I’ll give you six hours. Get Sergeant Philia to lock on a range. You’re going to have to hoof it out, though. No way you’re getting transport.”
“And I need some bodies, too. They really need to work on coordination.”
The team leader hesitated as he thought it through for a moment, then he said, “Take Third,” before turning back to the staff sergeant.
“I want First. Third and I know how to work together. Pierson and First need the time.”
The master guns slowly turned around, his eyes blazing, but Rev didn’t flinch, nor did he back down. “I really need First.”
The hesitation was longer this time as the team leader’s glare bored into Rev.
“Can you do it in the sims?”
Rev thought about it. He’d rather be out in the dirt, doing it for real, and the scenarios hadn’t really been developed for the IBHUs, but Rev was most concerned about coordinating maneuver. It would probably work.
“I think so. And they can leave their IBHUs to get crated up. I just need the bodies.”
“Do it. I’ll give Gunny Sokolov the heads up. Six hours, Pelletier. Then I want you back here standing tall.”
That was at least one good thing about having the master guns as a team leader. He was also the platoon sergeant. And with no officer team leaders, what he said went.
That didn’t mean that the gunny was going to be happy about it, and once he found out that this was his idea, Rev might pay the price, but Pierson wasn’t ready. These six hours could make a difference when the rounds were flying.
* * *
“Back into the breach,” Tomiko said as the platoon sat on the tarmac in stick order.
Normally, when the Marines went anywhere, it was hurry up and wait. This time, though, things were moving quickly, and Rev was glad that the master guns had limited him to six hours in the sims. The training had gone well, and Gunny Sokolov had even thanked him for the session, but the two hours Rev had thought they’d individually need to pack out hadn’t considered the madhouse the base had been.
“Did you hear who we’re deploying with?” Tomiko asked.
“No. No time.”
Rev knew the teams were being split up. With the four IBHU Marines in the platoon, each team was going to be spread loaded, which meant being put on different ships to increase the chances that at least some would make it to Beacon. It was the same with the armor and mech, the two heavy hitters in any battle against the Centaurs.
“We’ve got Second Platoon Recon and Alpha Company.”
That perked Rev up. “Alpha? You mean—”
“Yep, Orpho is going to be with us for the transit.”
“Oh, great!” he managed to stumble out. He had been about to say Malaika would be on their ship, and now he felt guilty that was his first thought. Orpheus was part of their posse, together since the beginning.
“I don’t know how busy we’ll be, but it would be good to catch up a bit. I haven’t seen Orpho since before Alafia. I wonder what he’s gonna say about Pashu.”
Technically, the IBHU project was still classified, but by now, most of the Marines had heard of it, even if they didn’t know who the four IBHU Marines in the regiment were. But whether they knew or figured it out when they saw Rev with his social arm, he’d been stopped and asked about it several times around the base.
“Orpho will be curious, of course, but not like Cricket. He’ll want to know why the project head didn’t come to him for advice,” Rev said.
“No. He’ll want to know why the commandant didn’t ask for his opinion,” Tomiko said with a laugh.
Sitting in lines and the sun beating down on their heads made it harder to hold conversations, but the chatter was prevalent as they waited to be called to load the right shuttle going to the right ship.
One of the redpatchers shouted for Second Team to follow him. With all the modern technology on display, the sticks were playing ducklings following mama duck to get to the right shuttle.
“Have you talked to Harisa?” Rev asked Tomiko as he watched her bring up the rear of the stick.
“No. I don’t know what to say to her. That was a bad move, putting her in her old team.”
“I talked to her for a bit. She said it was because of us, I mean, McAnt, the two newbies, and me.”
“You mean you androids.”
Rev wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of objecting to that.
“Not only us, but that she was a Raider. I guess she’s augmented specifically for Raider missions.”
“Like that’s gonna matter as a fucking Nine-nine, right? Geez. They coulda stuck her in some infantry unit, maybe with Sixth Marines at Kamachi where they don’t know her. Sometimes, I wonder if our vaunted leaders know what the hell they’re doing. Or if they even care.”
Rev felt a little defensive over that. The Marine Corps did care. He’d seen that. But then, as he thought about it, sometimes, he had to agree with Tomiko. He’d seen it personally with his Platinum Nova recommendation.
It was a weird dichotomy. Marines can be loyal to a fault, and that’s what made Rev feel like he had a home. But at other times, it seemed as if the organization didn’t give a shit about the individual. He wasn’t sure how he could explain that.
“Third Team, First Raider Platoon. Follow me” another red-patcher said, coming to collect them.
“Hey, Doc,” Hussein shouted up to the corpsman. “You notice the Marines only need that little red patch on their trousers, but the Navy needs an entire yellow shirt to do the same thing? What does that tell you?”
“I don’t think you’d understand, Hus-man.”
“Try me.”
“It won’t do any good. When I was at corpsman school, they never gave me brain trauma classes like they did most of the others. I asked them why, and they told me that since I was going to be sent to the Marines, it would just be a waste of time.”
Rev laughed out loud. Corpsman might be Navy, but they had Marine hearts, and they weren’t going to take shit from anyone.
They followed the red-patcher past several shuttles until they reached their ride. The red-patcher wanded the shuttle and confirmed it was the right one but still asked the crew chief, “You heading for the LaSalle?”
“Sure am.”
“OK, load up,” the red-patcher told them, and the column trooped inside, each one getting wanded before their lead foot hit the ramp. After the master guns boarded, he checked his pad again before he gave the crew chief a thumbs-up.
Rev followed the rest inside and took his seat. Once they were seated, the cargo followed, and he was on edge until a familiar crate was trundled in and strapped in place. With Pashu aboard, he could relax. But he perked up when a white case with a red circle, the number 93 inside, was loaded. It looked like the same case the grenades they’d tested at the range came in. Marines nudged each other when they saw them, and Rev had to assume that these might be the real deal.
To save time, the crew chief gave them their safety brief while the rest of the cargo was being loaded. From the moment the first Marine stepped aboard until the back ramp closed was less than eight minutes, which was amazing all things considered. Without the civilian augments and the high degree of automation, there was no way they could be ready in that short amount of time.
Rev watched out the back as the ramp closed, cutting off his view of New Hope. There was a lurch as the shuttle lifted to take them to their ship.
Their mission to retake Beacon was underway.