Combat Pt. 1 and 2

The cold steel made his skin prickle. It felt good, felt like power being transferred between the object and his body. He looked down at the gun, and thought ‘how can something so small, can change so much…?’ He thumbed the safety off… He saw himself do it, but he didn’t seem to be controlling the action. It was like the gun had gained control over him, had invaded his soul. He saw himself raise the gun, he felt the barrel start to press against the side of his head. His index finger started to tighten on the trigger. ‘It’s so simple’ he thought… ‘Is it too simple? Too easy?’ Can something this easy really be the answer? His grip on the gun began to slacken. His index finger eased, the pressure on the side of his head let up, he heard the gun tumble to the ground. ‘It’s too simple, it can’t be right,’ then he thought of his family, of his siblings back home. ‘Little Amber, she would be three now, already walking, and talking. Young William, he would be what? Was it 12 now? God he must be huge.’ He smiled thinking about them. 'God, I’m so stupid,’ He thought as he reached down to pick up his sidearm, he clicked the safety back on and slipped it into his holster… ‘That will never be the answer,’ he thought grimly, ‘I will never even think of this again.’

He was in hell, or at least the closest thing to it he had ever experienced. His face was covered in dirt and grime. He was an averaged sized man, about 6 foot, maybe 200 pounds. The dog tags around his neck told that his name was Joseph Davis , but naturally, everyone called him Joe. Joe had been in combat for a month straight, and in that time he hadn’t showered once. But seeing as in no one had showered in weeks, it didn’t much matter.

Distant bursts of automatic weapons fire popped like fire crackers in the distance, fires lit up the horizon. An explosion a little to close for comfort, shook the ground. There was a distant cry of “MEDIC! I’M HIT, THE BASTARDS GOT ME! I NEED A-.” Four shots rang out cutting the plea for help short.

Joe’s blood ran cold, wondering if he knew the ill-fated soldier. Odds are he didn’t, Hell, he might have even been a Separatist. Joe was a loyalist, he didn’t support anarchy. ’those fools’ he thought, ‘they think they can overthrow the Emperor,’ “Ha!” he laughed out loud. ‘No one can overthrow the Emperor… No one….’

Frank Philips, Joe’s best friend, was propped up next to him in the damp foxhole. It was late evening, and visibility was down to 20 feet. They were on the edge of what once had been a city park, but now was a scarred wasteland. They were part of a scouting patrol that was deep inside the enemy occupied city. An offensive was in the works to retake the core of the city, little more than forty miles away. But as of yet this goal was unobtainable. The Separatist Rebels had control of the airspace above the city. This made advancement risky and very fool hardy.

Joe wondered whether this uprising would ever be put down, it had been gaining momentum over the past two years. Joe laughed, he laughed a cold laugh, devoid of all humor. ’Its funny, a hundred years of peace was broken by one raving lunatic…’ he mused.

Frank had been fast asleep until Joe’s laughter stirred him. “What’s so goddamned funny?” He grunted, “I was having a good fucking dream!”

“Nothing Frank, and you get enough sleep as it is, god knows how you do it…” Joe’s voice trailed off, he signaled to Frank to be quite, he heard something moving through the nearby rubble.

They both grabbed their rifles, and peaked above the lip of the foxhole. A dark shadow scrambled across the rubble of a nearby building. “Mercury!” Joe croaked the first word of the pass code, the shadow stopped suddenly and started to raise something, but before he could, three shots and the shadow slumped to the ground.

“Hot damn! That was close!” Frank said nervously as he lowered his weapon.

“I hope to god he wasn’t just one of our guys who forgot the second part of the pass code…”

“Don’t think about that! You’ll fucking go Section 8 if you worry about that shit!” Frank snarled.

“What, just cause I worry will make me crazy?” Joe snapped back. But before Frank could make his case, they heard the whine of a drop ship’s motors sweep overhead.

“SHIT!” Frank yelled franticly, “They’ll have thermals!! They know we’re here!”

Sergeant Mahan was in a nearby foxhole, he yelled “DAVIS! RADIO HQ FOR EVAC!”

Joe fumbled through his vest until he found the radio. He quickly turned it on and started to broadcast.

“HQ! HQ! This is Scout Patrol One! Do you read?!?”

There was silence for a few seconds, then the radio crackled to life, “Scout One, this is HQ, we read you about 5 by 6. Go ahead.”

Joe looked to Frank, Frank nodded. “HQ, this is Scout One, requesting immediate Evac!”

“Scout One, this is HQ, we have two Gunships in your area, we are diverting them to your position for cover, Evac should arrive shortly after the Gunships’ arrival.”

“HQ, this is Scout One, when the fuck do the Gunships get here!?!?!?!?”

“Scout One, HQ here, estimated arrival time, ten minutes, HQ out.”

“HQ, this is Scout One, out!!”

Joe lowered the Radio, he checked his weapon, and yelled to Sergeant Mahan, “WE’VE GOT TO HOLD OUT FOR TEN MINUTES SARGE!”

Mahan looked down sullenly, then went notify to the rest of his squad.

There would be at least 25 troops in that drop ship, and the patrol only consisted of 12 soldiers. To add further to that, the enemy troops would be well fed, heavily armed, and well rested, while the scouting patrol was fatigued, lightly armed, and running low on rations and ammo. The only thing the Scouting Patrol had going for them was training, they had received best training available in the Empire, these Rebels had substandard combat training, as they had learned in the early months of the war. The Rebels only controlled this city for one reason, numbers. They were much more numerous than the Emperor’s legions in this sector.

Just as Sergeant Mahan returned to his foxhole they heard the dropship touch down about 100 yards inside the park. Joe checked and rechecked his weapon, he had five magazines of ammunition left, each mag contained 45 rounds. He also had three grenades left, and six landmines.

He quickly activated the mines and threw them far out in front of him, all the other soldiers in the squad did the same. Each mine was packed full of enough explosives and shrapnel to kill at least two soldiers and they were set to explode when it sensed movement in a five foot radius of the mine.

Joe looked to Frank, “Ready?” he asked.

Frank smiled uneasily, checked his weapon for probably the fourth time, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Just then, they heard several of the mines go off with deadening roars. That was there cue, they both popped up and started to unload their weapons at the enemy muzzle flashes.

Cries of wounded men started to find their way to Joe’s ears. He saw Sergeant Mahan get up and run to their foxhole. Joe and Frank started to lay down cover fire for the him.

“GRENADES!” he yelled as he slid next to them, “USE YOUR GRENADES!”

Joe and Frank both lobed two grenades into the dark night, things were getting quieter, but it was equally as deadly as the beginning of the fire fight.

They kept unloading bullets into whatever they heard and saw, or at least thought they had heard or seen.

It seemed like hours until they heard the roar of the Gunships approach.

Joe looked to the sky impulsively, even though all he could see was swirling smoke and dust. He heard the roar of one of the gunship’s cannon. It fired at an alarming rate, faster than anything the Patrol carried.

Suddenly, without warning, a fireball lit up the sky, and the cannon went silent. Joe heard the pilot increase engine power trying to keep the gunship aloft. The pilot’s efforts were in vain, the gunship plummeted into a nearby building, enveloping it in flame.

“FUCK!!” screamed Frank, “THEY’VE GOT ANTI-AIR MISSILES!”

They heard the other gunship swoop overhead, guns ablaze, trying to take out whoever shot the missile before they could get another one off.

On the ground, the fighting intensified, bullets whizzed by their heads. Joe heard a loud “CLAP” as a bullet flew past inches away from his head. He quickly took cover and reloaded his weapon.

He heard the gunship flying overhead, it must have taken out the missile launcher, because it was still rattling away at unseen targets. Frank and Sergeant Mahan were firing their rifles into the blackness above. Joe looked to a nearby Foxhole just in time to see one of his squad mate’s, Tommy Finch, crumple to the ground with a bullet to the head. Joe felt sick to his stomach, he tried to hold it back, but he couldn’t. Joe leaned over and threw up right on Sergeant Mahan’s boots.

“What the-” the Sergeant looked down at his boots with disgust, “FUCK! DAVIS, YOU COULD HAVE HURLED ANYWHERE! WHY THE HELL DID YOU HAVE CHOOSE MY FUCKING BOOTS!”

“S-s-orry Sarge, I didn’t mean to…” Joe stammered.

Mahan just looked down and said, “Forget it son… NOW GET YOUR ASS UP AND START SHOOTING!! IN CASE YOU HAVEN’T NOTICED, THERE’S A GOD DAMN WAR GOING ON!!!”

Joe wiped his mouth off with his sleeve, and climbed to his feet. He reached down and grabbed his rifle.

He had just started to shoot when he heard the low roar of a Dropship’s approach.

“Dropship’s here Sarge!!” Joe said jubilantly, “We’re gonna get out of this!”

The Dropship touched down roughly 30 yards behind them. Joe and Frank started to lay down cover fire as other members of their squad ran for the ship.

Moments later, Sergeant Mahan tapped each of them on the back and said simply, “Our turn boys.” The three of them then climbed out of the foxhole and sprinted to salvation.

Bullets whizzed by their heads. Joe thought ‘I am going to die here, going to die running for my life to a dropship that I’ll never reach…’ But Joe was wrong, he clamored into the dropship with Frank and Sergeant Mahan. Behind them ran Alvin Yoke and Daniel Hiker. Alvin was caught by six bullets to the back and he tumbled to the ground. Daniel got to the dropship, but just as he was climbing on, a bullet slammed into his neck.

Hiker flopped to the deck of the dropship’s hold, the doors quickly shut and the ship took off.

“MEDIC!!! HIKER’S BEEN HIT!! GET A FUCKING MEDIC!!” Cried Mahan. The squad’s medic had been killed early on in the mission, but dropship’s usually had their own medics.

The medic ran down from the cockpit and skidded to a halt. He knelt next to the wounded man. He looked up to the Sergeant and said glumly “He’s not gonna make it.” The medic did what he could to try to stop the bleeding, but the simple fact was Daniel Hiker was drowning in his own blood.

The rest of the squad sat silently as the medic covered Daniel’s now limp body with a sheet. Joe thought ‘that could easily have been me, I could’ve been killed…’ The thought sent shivers up his spine. Joe was glad to be alive, when less than an hour ago, he had almost taken his own life.

To be continued…