Oh-Dark-Thirty

(1)

An orbital observation platform running in autonomous mode detected movement in the allegedly neutralized zone and pinpointed a wrecked command post as the most likely source. Drone observation of the command post in visible light could not confirm the orbital platform data, but long standoff observation in infra-red indicated multiple heat sources where none should exist.

The six members of the team moved silently across broken ground in the pre-dawn darkness to the side of an exposed foundation. Free-falling from high altitude and parachuting to land twenty-three hours and ten kilometers away hopefully aided an unseen approach to their objective. Continuously monitoring the radio frequency bands, as well as low light and heat reconnoiter, continued to indicate they were alone. They arrived within a kilometer of the remains of the command post without contact, and undetected. Known only by their black project name, Harvest, the six highly trained individuals utilized stealth equipment to specialize in covert operations under darkness.

Alpha, the assault squad leader, could communicate with and see each squad member's position on the Heads-Up-Display visor of his helmet. Baker, the newest member of the team, was their sniper, and her high-power rifle was equipped with night vision and infra-red. Charley was their advanced armament guy and could place a variety of small smart missiles and rocket propelled grenades on target from outside the active perimeter. Dog was the CAED, the communication awareness and electronic disruption guy that kept the team informed of any evolving threat situation. Echo was their demolitions and IED man, and Fox rounded out the team as their medic.

The level of technology deployed in the last thirty days indicated that an unknown player had joined the conflict that could potentially change the course of the war. Evidence of an attack with advanced weaponry on mechanized armor or air support would dictate a high level of response, and there were times when intel could only be verified by boots on the ground.

Alpha instructed Baker to locate her sniper nest to cover the southerly direction of their approach, and gave her instructions to call out targets to squad members. Baker would have a fifteen minute window to set up before the squad would leave for the command post. Charley was given similar orders to set up an assault position from the adjacent quadrant to provide support fire for the team if needed.

Alpha, Dog, Echo and Fox would advance on the target. Dog monitored for communications chatter and would disrupt it if necessary to confuse the objective. Echo would support the mission objective with demolition, and watch for booby traps so Fox could make sure they all came home in one piece.

As Alpha received green ready signals from Baker and Charley on the HUD in his helmet visor, he gave the GO signal for the remaining team to advance. After fifteen minutes of steady, but stealthy approach, they came within view of the command post from the cover provided by the edge of a large shell hole. Alpha contacted Baker in her sniper nest for a range estimate rather than risking laser range finding that could alert the occupants in the command post of their presence.

"Baker, how do you read our range?" Alpha sub-vocalized into the throat mike on the tight beam radio used by the Harvest team.

"I read you at two hundred and thirty-five meters of the command post," replied Baker, from her sniper nest vantage point.

"Bearing?" asked Alpha.

"I am directly over your left shoulder at one-ninety degrees magnetic," Baker replied, reading data from her scope.

"Charley, you good?" asked Alpha.

"Over your right shoulder, three hundred seventy-five meters on one-seven-oh magnetic," came Charley's calm response.

"Dog, we good to go?" inquired Alpha of the CAED.

"Quiet and clear," returned Dog over the tight beam.

"OK, let's go knock on the door and see if anybody's home," joked Alpha as he slowly stood while reviewing the team data streaming in on his HUD.

"Movement!" barked Baker over the tight beam, as she keyed the squad alert at the same time.

"Fast chatter on the X band, looks like telemetry data, disrupting," Dog said quickly, as Alpha hit the dirt in the bottom of the shell hole.

The raucous buzz of an auto-cannon erupted from the base of the command post throwing a dual stream of hyper-velocity flechettes and green tracers into the top of the bank of dirt surrounding their make-shift fox hole.

"Full spread on the way," replied Charley over the tight beam, as he launched two miniature armor piercing high explosive HEAT rounds and two anti-personnel rounds in quick succession into the opening at the base of the command post. The resulting series of concussions stopped the continuous hail of deadly flechettes as a series of secondary explosions below ground ripped open the side of the command post, causing the structure to lean precariously.

"Targets!" called Baker, as she quickly fired over a dozen precision rounds into targets as they tried to flee the inferno within the command post.

"All units, withdraw to five hundred meters! Baker, Charley! Cover us!" Alpha called out on the tight beam squad frequency, as another, more powerful secondary explosion below the command post rocked the ground, throwing dirt high into the air as the sun came up over the horizon.

Ten minutes after the last secondary explosion rocked the structure; fire continued to burn somewhere below ground sending up billows of black smoke and ash. The team cautiously approached the ruined command post again as Dog confirmed radio silence and Alpha led the squad to the side of the structure. Even though the dead outside the structure were burned and riddled with anti-personnel sub-munitions, it was obvious they were not human. Too many limbs.

Alpha recorded images of the alien dead, collected samples of weapons, a copy of the telemetry data Dog recorded before the attack started, and uploaded the report to Command via Orbital. We didn't have long to wait, as Command relayed back priority orders for us to double-time to a rendezvous with a tilt-rotor fast transport to evac us from the area, because an N strike had been declared, so we got out fast. Echo was major PO'ed because he wanted to stay and watch.

This wasn't our first rodeo with an N strike munition, but our experiences had been limited to tactical nukes ranging in size from a backpack MNM, or miniature nuclear munition, used on single targets like hardened bunkers or railway bridges, up to neutron devices to eliminate enemy personnel within a hardened structure and inflicting minimum collateral damage. When the general squad alert tone sounded in the evac zone, the Harvest team members reacted immediately, going to a defensive posture, and to their credit, only afterward looking to Alpha for the explanation. Alpha received a priority Command sequence on his HUD and quickly replied over their tight beam, "Flash Warning!"

Even with heads lowered behind auto-darkened helmet shields and closed eyelids, the world suddenly turned a ferocious white. The tight beam unexpectedly went EMP auto-safe immersing the Harvest team in an uncomfortable silence until the initial flash subsided. Accustomed as they were to the team's constant live feedback, whether it be just breathing, or sub-vocal comment between team members in their headsets, the eerie silence was disconcerting. Alpha was already hand-signaling the team to crouch and take cover as the tight beam came back on with a loud crackle. The thunderous blast of the detonation arrived several seconds later, followed by an over-pressure blast wave as the continuous dull roar from a roiling mushroom-shaped cloud rose on the horizon.

"What in the …?" called Echo into the crackling static on the all-squad tight beam. "What the hell did they use? An H-bomb? That must have been five megatons!"

"Not one of ours," Alpha replied.

"Wha …?" Echo replied in disbelief. "Whose was it, then?"

"Orbital verified the detonation coordinates as the command post Charley was lobbing HEAT rounds into an hour ago to save our butts from that chaingun. Either the fire finally reached the magazine or somebody hit the big red button to prevent any evidence from being discovered," Alpha explained.

"We were right at ground-zero for almost an hour," whispered Fox. "We're lucky to have made it out alive."

Alpha quickly added, "Hey Fox, here's another warm fuzzy for you. You do realize the report I uploaded through Orbital was encrypted but the evac order I received from Command wasn't, for some reason."

"Yeah … so?" replied Fox quizzically.

"Well, my point is this. There are probably off-world players in this game that are willing to use canned sunshine and now they know exactly where we are."

"Whoa! Time to go!" called Charley.

"Harvest team!" called Alpha. "We are out of here, quick and quiet! Use low power line-of-sight tight beam only. Dog, passive monitoring only. Keep the chatter to a minimum. Double-time, ladies."

(2)

Perhaps due to their quick exit from the evac zone, or the extreme endurance levels developed by their special operations training, the Harvest team managed to cover enough ground to mitigate the direct blast effects of the next nuke detonation. The team hit the dirt instantly in the white flashbulb glare of the second nuke shot. The tight beam crackled, but mercifully refrained from going EMP auto-safe from the smaller tactical nuke. The explosive report of the detonation followed seconds later followed by another roar.

"Ha, just a firecracker! They only had one of the big ones, I guess," joked Echo, while he shielded his munitions pack with his body.

"Or they thought they knew our location," reasoned Alpha. "Any bets on that shot being directly on the evac zone?"

"I won't take that bet," Dog replied dryly. "All dirt-side chatter ended with that second shot."

Alpha added, "It could be just the lingering effects that multiple nukes have on the upper atmosphere, but the synchronous time stamp in my HUD ended with that second shot also. From my current position, neither Command nor Orbital is still operational, if they still exist."

The team held their cover positions in the dirt while their visors cleared and a sudden gust of wind-driven dust marked the passage of the meager blast wave.

Into the drawn out silence, Baker asked in a small voice, "How much trouble do you think we are in, Alpha?"

"I don't know yet, soldier," replied Alpha, in an uncertain tone the team members seldom heard from their commander.

"If this is only a tech glitch affecting comms via Orbital, we'll be fine as long as we keep our heads down till the dust settles. When Orbital solves the comms problem and comes back on line connecting us to Command, we'll be golden."

Echo commented drily, "Then again, if that big nuke was the first shot fired in a bigger war and they took out Orbital next, we could possibly be the last humans alive on this rock that have firsthand knowledge of an alien race willing to use advanced weapons to remove the evidence of their involvement here."

"Always the optimist," Dog added sarcastically.

"And," Echo continued, "They might still be looking for us."

"We'll get through this as a team." Alpha reminded them to stay on low power, line-of-sight tight beam only with no laser range finding and passive monitoring only for comms.

Baker scanned the sky for surveillance drones while Charley and Echo set up a multi-layered perimeter defense. Dog monitored comms but continued to confirm radio silence within their line-of-sight limitation. With the quiet, the adrenaline wore off and fatigue set in. Alpha set up the watch and told everybody to eat and stay hydrated. "No stims except for the second watch, everybody else get some shut-eye."

When the twin moons rose over the distant horizon, Dog relieved Echo on the first watch at 2300. The eerily silent planet had troubled Echo at first with no birds or animals and no bugs except for some small many-legged worms.

Dog monitored all the normal comm frequencies used by Orbital by procedure to pass the time, but found nothing but static. Adding the whole X band to the scan itinerary on the transceiver where he caught that fast chatter at the command post this morning would only increase the spectrum scan interval by a second or two, so it seemed like a good precaution. Especially if that band was key to hostile comms or telemetry; then, detecting intelligence there could give them a much-needed heads up that hostiles were in the neighborhood.

Without Orbital continuously streaming a detailed sitrep for the whole hemisphere, Dog felt isolated, cut off and alone. Maybe Alpha was right and this is only a comms glitch or a high energy atmospheric anomaly. If that was true, he could transmit a request on the unit frequency at full power for a sitrep or request extraction, and they could get off this rock. But Alpha's orders were like commandments handed down from on high, obeyed without question, and on at least one occasion yesterday, the difference between life and death itself. He would monitor comms passively as ordered. The rest of the second watch passed quietly without incident within Harvest Team's defensive perimeter.

Charley relieved Dog at 0200 unit time for the third watch, and cradled his sleek magnetic rail launcher to his chest for comfort as he scanned their perimeter out to the horizon and the dark skies for threats. He had just completed the full perimeter sweep maybe, five times, when he thought he heard a metallic sounding scrape followed by a clang, way outside their perimeter. He waited until he had movement on his night vision before he hit the squad alert and the team silently formed up behind him.

"Where?" Alpha whispered.

"On the ground, about thirty degrees right of that crescent moon. Metallic sound and movement," whispered Charley.

"Baker, what have you got in your scope?" Alpha whispered to the sniper.

"I don't see anything on that, wait … oh, shit! I see it now. It's a mech with treads, maybe only a meter long, with a bunch of sensors on top. It's radiating heat like crazy and it's headed this way!"

"Baker, stay on target. Dog, comms off. Everyone else scan the perimeter. We need to find out if that's a solo recon mech or part of a swarm," Alpha informed the team, in a barely audible whisper. "Echo, if it is a solo recon, it might not detect us. Those sensors look like they were set up to locate RF sources, and it's too hot itself to search in infrared. It might pass by as long as it doesn't blunder into our perimeter defense. Can you disable our perimeter without using a wireless remote?"

"Affirmative, just give me the word," Echo said, holding up a small pair of wire cutting pliers.

"Not yet, I still want a hot perimeter if we're looking at a swarm."

"Roger that," agreed Echo.

"Any other contacts?" Alpha whispered, and the team responded with a chorus of quiet negatives.

Alpha moved soundlessly to the sniper's elbow before inquiring, "Any change?"

"Negative, still headed this way and it's hot," she replied without looking away from her scope.

"OK, what I think we have is a single recon mech with an unshielded fission reactor in the drive unit," Alpha said turning to sit beside the sniper as all eyes turned to stare at their Commander. "Fox, we don't have a lot of time; from a medic's standpoint, how close is too close for a hot radioactive mech?"

"Whew. Okay, the thing is, in the last couple of minutes, I have seen a steady rise above the background radiation, such as it is, but I'm not really seeing lethal intensity numbers. For comparison, if that was a fuel rod lying on the ground out there, I'd be pegged already. Maybe the mech is just poorly shielded and radiating heat for some other reason."

"You willing to take that chance?" whispered their commander.

"Yeah, I trust my gear, but if I see a rapid change on the survey meter, you'll be the first to know," replied Fox. "I know contact with high rad is bad medicine, but the dose from a short term high rad and a long term low rad exposure can be similar, with similar effects. Time, distance and shielding still apply, but we have no shielding."

"So basically, our only defense is a shorter exposure?"

"Yeah, that's about it," agreed Fox.

"Baker, any change?"

"Negative, still on our heading and glowing."

"Hmm, I wonder. Dog, shut down everything."

"Everything, Alpha? But we'll be blind," the CAED reasoned.

"All of it. Visors, comms, night vision, thermal, even Fox's radiation meter. Now, do it."

A dozen key strokes later, Harvest Team descended into an unfamiliar darkness. The silence of the dead comms was disconcerting when they went EMP auto-safe after that first big nuke, but coupled with the total loss of augmented vision, they felt suddenly immersed in an inky subterranean dark, lost and alone.

"Any change?" Alpha whispered close to the sniper's ear.

"Affirmative, it stopped dead. It's just sitting there now. But how did you know my optics would still work without the visual boosters?"

"My job. Your gear will still work to cover us when all the rest of this happy horse shit has gone in the crapper. That's why you still have conventional shells with metal bullets, primers and chemical propellants without a single electronic part in the firing mechanism. When all else fails, you're our ace in the hole, soldier."

"Proud to be a member of the team, sir," Baker said under her breath, smiling.

"Do not call me sir, soldier. My designation is Alpha. You and Charley have the watch, everyone else try to get some rest."

(3)

Just before 0500 unit time, a false dawn suddenly and silently brightened the northern horizon nearly to the brilliance of midday. As Baker held on target, Charley moved to Alpha's side to carefully wake him.

Alpha quickly arose and followed before settling in beside Baker and gazing at the horizon. "Another one?" he asked.

"Yup. Getting to be a habit," Charley replied sarcastically as he sat cross-legged on the ground. "I almost got a chance to be bored."

Baker's sudden intake of breath drew their attention to the sniper. "What's it doing?" Alpha asked with interest.

"It just did a one-eighty and took off towards that light," Baker replied. "If it wasn't for the dust the treads kick up, I probably couldn't see it at all anymore." After another moment, she groaned and slowly lowered the sniper rifle, "and I can't feel my arms."

"I would imagine. Echo and I will take the watch, you two crash. I want to wait for full light before we move out in case our little friend decides to double back on us," Alpha explained.

After Charley and Baker fell out, dropping to the ground exhausted, Alpha woke Echo who sat on a rock next to him, yawning.

"Want to play a short game of connect the dots?" Alpha asked the demolitions man.

"Thought you'd never ask," Echo replied with a grin. "You figure out what's going on?"

"Maybe, but you need a sitrep, first. There was another nuke somewhere over the horizon and then our mech did a one-eighty and left."

"Shoot, and I missed it? And the mech is gone?"

"Yep, and I think," Alpha continued, "that mech was trailing our comms before we reached the evac zone, and I'll bet it actually rolled through what was left of the zone after the second nuke."

"Still trailing our comms?" asked Echo incredulously.

"Yep, getting seriously crapped up in the process," Alpha added as he completed another slow visual perimeter sweep.

"Okay, that all figures. The time between us leaving the zone and it showing up here is about right, too. But why would it turn tail and leave?"

"I don't have a firm answer for that one yet, unless its program would only let it loiter for so long without a signal to track, and it was recalled."

"I hope you're right," Echo added seriously. "Do you think we'll ever be able to use the visors and comms again?"

"I don't know, but I am almost certain that mech was tracking the visual boosters in our visors or the tight-beam comms, because it stopped dead when Dog shut everything down," Alpha stated flatly.

"I thought the whole advantage behind the use of our tight-beam technology was that it was undetectable," Echo reasoned.

"Supposedly undetectable. I can't help but wonder how much intel was intercepted and used to set up that little nuke demonstration we almost saw up-close and personal." Alpha responded. "Our first priority may be to tell Command our comms have been compromised. Staying alive after that might get complicated."

"My turn for perimeter," Echo said standing. "If it's not safe to use our comms, contacting Command will be suicide. If we don't contact Command for extraction, we're marooned. We're dead if we do and dead if we don't. Are we dead, Alpha?"

"No and we still have our orders. We will do what we do best as long as we can. Denying the enemy the use of this planet to stage troops, weapons and depot maintenance helps protect the core worlds. To that end, we will continue to disrupt, disable and destroy their installations."

"We left the evac zone double-time under a quick and quiet protocol our own people didn't know about. They probably think we bought it in the second nuke."

"Without info to prove otherwise, that's the conclusion I would have come to, so, yeah. They think we're dead," reasoned Alpha. "From at least one perspective though, it frees our hands to operate in any way we see fit."

(4)

After Charley and echo recovered the explosives from their perimeter defense rings and Baker visually confirmed no activity in their immediate area, Harvest Team moved out in loose formation. Though they still wore the multicam helmets, Alpha directed the team to remove and store their visors until they could determine it was safe to use them again.

"Medically, what are our physical limits?" Alpha asked Fox as they walked.

"We have rations and water for five days under normal conditions, or maybe eight under low exertion," Fox replied. "I can treat minor battlefield injuries, but serious wounds or severe bleeding without diagnostics or advanced support will be, well, problematic."

"Understood," replied the commander. "How about you, Charley? What is your current capability?"

"I replaced the munitions I used yesterday at the evac zone ammo dump, along with four new high-yield thermal grenades, so I've got more than a full spread."

"Echo?" inquired Alpha.

"My toy box is full, Alpha."

"Dog?" the commander continued.

"Comms and boosters are all down, off cold. The battery packs should last for weeks even without charging from the solar panels," replied the CAED. "They'll be there when we need them. The system will take several seconds to reboot, but I could bring us back online in under a minute."

"Baker, you good?" asked Alpha.

"I replaced the ammo I used yesterday at the evac zone, too," replied the sniper.

"That's good, because I think we've got company," Alpha said kneeling as he raised one hand. "Harvest Team, take cover in a tight defensive group so we can still hear one another."

"Baker, is that cloud of dust on the horizon a convoy of vehicles?" Alpha asked.

"Affirmative, Alpha. I make six heavy wheeled transport trucks, all the same design, but not ours. Could be supplies, but no armor in the column might mean they're empty."

"We will advance in a staggered formation to get within range of that convoy. Baker, take out the drivers. Charley, power up the railgun only if there is armed resistance. I want the last one undamaged for our use. Questions?"

"Understood," the team said in near unison before they fanned out.

The team moved in staggered formation with a practiced precision, individually going to ground until they were overtaken and only then moving to the next position of cover in a way that made them appear to flow across the landscape like nothing more than windblown leaves, and attracting little attention. Undetected and unchallenged, they advanced to form up below a low ridge from which the convoy would be well within the sniper's effective range.

Baker checked her field of view for obstructions before lowering the rifle bipod and adjusting the length of the legs. Due to the exposure of her "nest", she selected a chameleon veil that covered everything but the muzzle and objective lens of her scope with variegated patterns in mottled brown and tan to match the landscape, and abruptly disappeared from view.

Echo smiled appreciatively, "I never get tired of seeing her do that. It's like the Cheshire cat with high caliber teeth."

"Be thankful you're not downrange," Charley commented from cover close by. "Those teeth are in sub MOA groups."

"Don't miss," Dog added cheerfully. "No pressure though, really."

"Thanks guys," Baker replied sweetly from within the chameleon veil.

"Cut the chatter, you clowns, and let Baker do her job," Alpha muttered from cover.

The "road" the convoy was using was only a blazed trail so their progress was slow. The heavy transport trucks crawled at a slow walk, to avoid grades, holes or obstacles they could not navigate by simply going around them. Twice, the convoy had halted and changed direction, apparently to take advantage of an easier route, but generally continued in Harvest's direction. It seemed as though it took forever for the convoy to reach the position the Harvest team had chosen for their assault. The whistle of a turbine engine presently announced the arrival of the first of the heavy trucks above the ridge.

"Target," Baker said softly as she centered her crosshairs on the figure in the cab, controlled her breathing and squeezed the trigger exactly between her own heartbeats. The muzzle jumped as the bullet left the barrel; her suppressor performing as it was designed to decrease the report and the recoil but the crack of the precision round breaking the sound barrier still seemed unnaturally loud.

As the noise from the shot dissipated, echoing away down the desolate rocky valley, the figure in the cab slumped to one side and all six heavy trucks slowly braked to a stop in a row.

"Do we have a situation?" Alpha asked the sniper in a calm voice. "Do we need Charley's AP rounds?"

"Ah … negative, Alpha," Baker replied after a pause. "I have no other targets, and there's no response from any of the other trucks. They're all just sittin' there."

"I don't hear any engine noise anymore, either," whispered Charley, listening intently. "Trap? Are they waiting for us to make a move?"

"We have no idea how aliens would respond to an attack," Fox added thoughtfully.

"Well, at least they didn't lob another tactical nuke at us. That's an improvement," Echo chuckled.

As the silence stretched out without any response from the convoy, Dog whispered inquisitively, "If they all shut down at the same time, could they be slaved together, like a train with cars? Maybe there was only one driver with a dead man switch?"

"Okay, do you have a driver in the second truck, Baker?" Alpha asked with a wry grin.

"Ah, that's a negative, Alpha. Negative on the third truck as well. I can't see the cab of the fourth yet."

"For now, we wait. If the trucks are loaded with weapons or supplies, we might be able to use them. If the trucks are loaded with troops, they will get out eventually to find out why they've stopped, and Charley will light 'em up. If Dog is right and there's only the single driver, they might all be empty and we have more transportation than we can ever use. But no heroics, not today."

A half hour later, the convoy still sat silently on the ridge above them and Alpha decided they had to move. He thought if the convoy stayed stationary for too long, it might look like a mechanical failure and prompt an investigation.

Harvest team flanked the convoy below the ridgeline until they reached the last truck. Approaching the heavy transport truck cautiously from the rear, they found both the cab and box empty. Dog attempted to puzzle out the controls in the cab.

The cab of the second truck in the line was also empty lending additional weight to Dog's theory of a single driver. The transport box, however contained a pair of the meter long tracked mechs with the RF sensors, although they seemed to be inert or in standby, and the team avoided them.

The third and fourth transport trucks in the row were the prizes, and worth the risk of the assault on the convoy by themselves. Even though the cabs were empty like the first two, the third transport box was loaded with cases of new heavy weapons with ammo, and the fourth contained water whose purity was verified by a field test conducted by Fox.

The fifth truck in the convoy was as empty as the last truck, so the team fanned out to approach the sixth and last truck, whose driver was shot by their sniper. When they cautiously investigated the cab, they found Baker's bullet had largely decapitated the alien driver who then fouled the entire cab with a copious amount of a noxious smelling circulatory fluid before expiring. The transport box however contained a single large case that was carefully and tightly fastened to the deck with heavy restraints to prevent shifting.

Fox suspected instruments secured to a shelf on the bulkhead to be radiation detectors of some sort, but the active digital indications were in unknown units and undecipherable.

"What do you think?" asked Alpha seriously as he and Fox stood in the transport box looking over Echo's shoulder while he inspected the complex device within the case.

"Well, physics dictates that everybody eventually arrives at approximately the same design and this sure looks like an implosion assembled fission primary with a fusion secondary."

"What did he say?" Charley asked sticking his head in the door of the transport box.

"Nuke. Big one, too," Alpha translated.

"This control panel doesn't match the rest of the assembly. It looks like no expense was spared to build the weapon, but the firing control was farmed out to the lowest bidder," Echo said leaning over to peer at a bundle of wires. "I'd be willing to bet it's already armed, by the way they had it secured, though."

"Oh, great! And I bet the driver drew the short straw," Charley said from the open door.

"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of too," Alpha replied seriously. "The only good part about the absence of armor in a convoy containing weapons and water is a lower alert state. The really bad part is somebody will be very concerned if this can of sunshine doesn't arrive at the ammo dump on time, and they will come looking for it."

"And find us," Echo completed the thought.

(5)

"Look at this," Fox said holding up the severed head of the alien driver for Alpha to see. "Six eyes, two larger primaries facing forward and four smaller secondary on the sides. I'll bet they can see in more than 180 degrees of arc and don't even bother to turn their heads to face something unless maybe the primary eyes give them more detail or color vision or a different spectrum altogether."

"Ugly sucker, is that supposed to be a nose?" Charley asked from his watch station on top of the cab. "Hey Baker, come see what Fox found!"

"What's up?" the sniper called as she rounded the transport truck cab. "Find something useful? Oh … yuck!"

"Welcome to Alien anatomy, 101," Fox said with a grim smile. "We were just admiring your handiwork. I probably couldn't have done this much cleaner with a scalpel. Good job, Baker."

"Uh, thanks?" Baker responded, questioning the sincerity of the complement.

Dog arrived just in time to see four of his fellow Harvest members closely examining the severed alien head and suggested, "I would recommend a brine soak to remove the wild taste and then stuff with herbs and spices followed by a slow roast at 350 degrees for an hour. But seriously, I do have some extra rations if you're all that desperate."

Dog had to quickly dodge the severed head Fox threw at him while Alpha and Baker choked back laughter and Charley pounded the top of the cab in a rare fit of hysterics.

"What did I miss?" Echo asked, arriving in the midst of the joke before the group could respond rationally. Yet unable to speak coherently, they could only point to the head on the ground.

Echo bent down to examine the strange head and surveyed the hysterical group before being caught up in the contagious laughter himself.

"Carpe cranium?" he asked them to renewed uproarious laughter. Taking the stage, Echo picked up the severed head and balanced it on one hand while raising it to address the grisly countenance in soliloquy, "Alas poor Yorick, I knew him, Horatio: a fellow of infinite jest!"

Charley fell off the cab roof with a thump while the rest of Harvest team dissolved in a renewed paroxysm of laughter applauding Echo's impromptu Shakespearian performance.

(6)

"Oh, my head," Baker groaned, as Fox tended to a still unconscious Charley seated on the ground beside her.

"Here, drink some water, it'll help. Take deep cleansing breaths, that's it," Fox advised, as the sniper gazed in a groggy stupor at the disabled team strewn about her on the ground.

Alpha and Echo were still out cold but Dog was coughing and showing signs of coming around.

"Apparently, the circulatory fluid of our dearly departed alien friend emits a gas like nitrous oxide, or something very similar, as it decomposes. When the laughter continued with everyone acting completely out of character, I suspected something was wrong. As I dragged Charley here to the rear of the convoy after he fell from the top of the cab, my head would clear and I realized the dead driver in the first truck was probably the cause," the medic explained as the wide-eyed Baker did her best to hyperventilate.

"Duration of the exposure and proximity to the source apparently dictates the severity of the effects," Fox continued. "You kept your distance, and that's probably why you're coming out of it sooner. Fair warning, though, it leaves an unholy taste in your mouth, so drink lots of that water."

"Ghahg! Oh, God! My throat! What did I eat?" choked Baker suddenly.

"You haven't heard a thing I've been saying, have you?" Fox replied pausing to examine the sniper's unfocused eyes.

"Oh, Doc! Thank God!" Baker slurred when she finally recognized him. "You've got to help me, I've been poisoned!"

Fox knelt next to Baker and steadied her head with both hands to stop the wobble threatening to advance into nausea before speaking slowly and clearly, "Baker, you're okay. Drink water now. Relax, I'll be right back." As Fox stood to go check on Dog, the sniper went limp in the complete confidence of her medic's assurance that she was okay. Fox was amused to discover he had to repeat the diagnosis, the warnings and remedial care, from beginning to end, five separate times as each soldier returned to consciousness with different levels of impaired short-term memory.

Fox thought about the headless driver slumped in the cab at the head of the convoy as he tended to Harvest team's ill effects, "I'm sure this wasn't the way you planned to end your days, but you can rest assured, you got the last laugh!"

(7)

"Okay, this is what I've got so far," Dog explained, sitting in the cab of the last transport truck in the row. "There's no steering wheel or foot pedals so I guessed that all the functions must be operated by these four "D" handle controls on the dash. One of them should be a throttle, one should be a brake, and maybe one or both of the remaining two are for steering, but so far, no matter what combination I've tried, I haven't been able to start it or get it to move.

"No other controls?" Alpha asked curiously.

"None that I've been able to find," Dog said throwing up his hands in exasperation.

"Farther up," Charley said from his position down near the front fender.

"What … what do you mean?" Dog asked.

"Up there, next to your head, by the roof. There's three rocker switches in a group that must do something," Charley replied.

"What positions are they in?" Alpha asked.

"Left one is up and right two are in the down position," Dog replied looking at the switches closely.

"Echo, Baker, check out the cabs of the next four trucks for the switch positions and report back. Fox, can we check the first cab for the switch positions without losing our minds with poor Yorick again?"

"No way to tell. I'd expect it to diminish over time, but that's just a guess. It took at least five minutes to really start affecting us last time so, if we get in, check and get out, we should be okay."

"Okay, check 'em all," Alpha replied thoughtfully. "But be careful."

"The way my luck has been going, they'll all be the same and we'll eventually find out they're just for lights or something," Dog muttered, as he waited for the information.

Echo and Baker quickly discovered the next four trucks all had the three rocker switches in the same positions as the last truck, but the first truck in the convoy with the dead alien in the cab, had all three switches in the up position.

Echo and Baker trotted back to the last truck, none the worse for their short discussion with Yorick, and related the different positions of the rocker switches in the first cab.

"Hey, you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'," Dog asked Alpha, in sudden realization.

"Maybe. Why don't you run with it and we'll see?" Alpha said with a grin. "What we want to do is make this last truck into the leader of the convoy and I think you know how that might be done."

"Swap the switch positions in the first and last trucks?" Dog offered.

"Yep, but we still need to figure out how to lose Yorick and his pet nuke as well as the mech twins in the fifth truck. The farther we are away from all of them, the better I'll feel."

Dog still had some trouble with the controls until he was reminded by Fox that the aliens had four arms, and then correctly determined the engine start permissive required the driver to grasp each of the four "D" handle controls. By the process of elimination, it was eventually proved that the left switch controlled engine ignition. The turbine engine would only crank up when both conditions, the first switch placed in the up position and team members touching all four control handles at the same time, were met.

It was obvious that the second switch controlled the remote "follow me" function because the rest of the trucks started up when that switch was placed in the up position in the lead truck.

Until they came up with another way, two team members were needed to start the lead engine. Once it was running, however, a single team member could operate the throttle, brakes and steering controls to drive it, as long as they maintained contact with at least two of the controls, and the rest of the trucks would follow suit. Releasing the controls shut down the engine and engaged the brakes.

Elimination of the dangerous trucks in the convoy was as simple as placing all three of their switches in the down position. The third switch identified the convoy leader and the system was even smart enough to realize when there was a new order in the convoy because they slowly maneuvered around Yorick's hearse and the mechs to form up behind the new leader.

The function of the fourth control on the dash wasn't readily apparent until they attempted to cross a slope with a rugged section of loose talus causing one of the trucks to slide sideways down slope. Applying the fourth control engaged more drive axles to gain traction and allow the convoy to proceed without further problems.

Harvest convoy was mobile, with weapons and water.

(8)

Whatever sound the surveillance drone might have made was drowned out by the turbine engines of the transports when it suddenly appeared in the sky and hovered above the convoy before anyone could react.

"We've got company," Charley called over his shoulder to the team riding in the transport box.

"Sitrep?" Alpha's calm voice asked from the other side of the thin wall.

"Single multi-rotor drone, hovering above the trail in front of us, and it looks like it has optics on the front of it," Charley replied quietly. "But there's something else happening up here."

"Report, soldier," Alpha replied.

"Um, the … ah, dash lit up with a string of symbols, or … characters, and then a couple seconds later, it did it all over again. It looked like the same string of characters both times," Charley replied quickly.

"What do you make of that?" Alpha asked the CAED at his elbow.

"Um, the drone might have queried the transporter, twice. The driver should probably answer somehow, I guess," Dog theorized.

"He would if he could. Charley, your radio is out, wave to the drone," suggested Alpha.

"What?" Charley replied in disbelief.

"Wait!" called Fox. "Keep your fingers together and wave quickly. Don't let them get a good look at your hand."

When Alpha looked questioningly at the medic, Fox replied," They only have two fingers and a thumb on each hand."

"Okay, here goes nothing, "Charley replied uncertainly. "Hey, the dash lit up again with a bunch of stuff and … well I'll be a …"

"What happened?" Alpha asked impatiently.

"The drone blinked some blue lights a bunch of times and then took off behind us. I can't see it anymore."

"Baker?" Alpha asked the sniper.

"Heading straight back the way we came, Alpha," the sniper replied looking through her scope.

"Dog …?" Alpha inquired.

"It was, uh … acknowledging our comms problem?" Dog offered quickly. "I'm just guessing though, you know."

"I'll make a note of that on your next job performance review," Alpha added with a chuckle. "Dog, I was going to ask you to bring the visors and tight beam back up. We've been blind and deaf long enough.

"Hopefully, our appearance must have suggested a realistic mechanical breakdown and comms failure, but it will only hold air till that drone finds what's left of Yorick. Then all the bets are off and we better be ready. Get your visors back on and don't forget to synch your time stamps with Dog's local squad reference because it's all we've got now. Reinitialize your thermal and low light augmentations now; you might not have time later."

"Almost there … and … we are … back!" Dog exulted. "Everybody's comms up?"

An acknowledgement or two, yet some only nodded their heads, within the privacy of their visors, rather than yielding to utter the affirmative to signify their connection, with an oddly nostalgic sense of loss.

(9)

"Our options are limited, but we don't have much choice," Alpha reasoned. "My first reaction was to get clear of the transports, because once they find Yorick and the nuke, they won't hesitate to fire on the rest of the convoy. But I doubt that a drone could determine how Yorick died and they'll have to send somebody else out to retrieve the nuke one way or another."

"Your first reaction? Okay, so what was the second one?" Baker asked nervously.

"If they think one of their own soldiers is still driving the remainder of the convoy carrying high value assets like weapons and water, they won't fire on it at all," Alpha explained.

"Except that one of their drivers would know where this stuff was going and we headed in the opposite direction," Fox added.

"Exactly, so we look like we're lost," Alpha concluded with a grin. "Echo, how long would it take to prepare party favors for our guests?"

"Proximity or remote trip?" the demolitions specialist asked with interest.

"I think proximity would be best but I'll leave that up to you," Alpha replied. "I don't plan on Harvest being close enough to fire by remote, though."

"Couple minutes per truck at the most if Charley gives me a hand. Proxy charges are self-contained, with arming timers. You'll want an extra helping of anti-personnel as well, I take it?" Echo inquired nonchalantly.

"Oh yeah, lots," Alpha agreed with a grin.

"Coming right up. Please pull forward to the next window," Echo joked while rummaging in a hard case he pulled from his pack.

"Hey, Charley!" Alpha called through the box wall. "See if you can find a level spot to park the convoy. There's been a change of plans."

"We need to top off our hydration cells if we're going to be on foot again," Fox commented. "I was just starting to enjoy this, too."

"Good idea, you're in charge of that, but I'll help." Alpha added with a grin. "Baker, as soon as this rig stops moving, I want you to set up a nest from the best vantage point close by and start scanning our perimeter while Echo sets his charges on the transports. I don't want this party ruined by another drone. Dog? Anything on the comms?"

"Negative. Our tight beam, and a lot of static, Alpha," responded the CAED. "Widening the scan itinerary on the transceiver now."

As he started setting the charges on the ammo cases for the alien heavy weapons, Echo keyed the all-squad frequency, "Remember shoppers, the transports will all be hot with proximity charges. Do not enter a transport box without a valid flight reservation. Thank you for traveling with Harvest Team today."

"You are such a nut," Baker chuckled, from her nest on top of an adjacent ridge.

"Echo? Fox and I have three extra water rations for you, Charley, and Baker when you're done," Alpha called over Harvest Team's shared communication system.

"Alpha? I think I have a very weak IFF transponder on a heading of one-ninety degrees relative to squad reference," Dog said quietly.

"Damn … Baker?" Alpha inquired. "Anything?"

"No, no movement on one-ninety relative, Alpha," the sniper replied.

"Alright, if there is a possibility that one of our people is still alive out here, it's our duty to investigate," Alpha replied drily. "Echo? Are we ready?"

"Affirmative, filling our hydration cells from the water ration now," Echo replied.

"Harvest Team," Alpha called on the all-squad, "We're almost certain the aliens have used a specialized mech to detect our comms for some time. It isn't too farfetched for them to try using a bogus IFF to lure us into a trap as well, so be on high alert."

Assembled as an elite team once again with comms and augmented visors, Harvest moved quietly away from the mined convoy on one-ninety degrees relative to find the source of the IFF transponder signal.

(10)

"Signal's getting stronger," Dog advised.

"Same heading?" Alpha asked the CAED.

"Affirmative, maybe on one ninety-five, now."

"Is it moving?" Alpha inquired curiously, as they crouched below a ridge to scan the area below them.

"Ah, negative. We probably changed our approach angle because of the terrain," replied Dog.

"I think I've got some debris on one ninety-five at … maybe a thousand meters," Baker added quietly. "Are we still passive only, or can I use my range finder to verify that?"

"Still passive only, for now. No lasers," Alpha replied. "If there is anything suspicious about this, anything at all, we are going to just back off and disappear on a different heading without making a closer inspection. If we spring the trap, they will know our location, and we've all seen how that works out."

"Understood," chorused the team over the beam.

Fanning out to take advantage of the cover provided by the broken rocks and a ridge wall that ran lengthwise along the barren valley, Harvest covered better than half the distance to the debris field containing the signal Dog had detected. Alpha called the team to a halt from a position affording them cover while Baker and Charley scanned their perimeter and the planned route down towards the signal source.

"Alpha, second my view?" asked the sniper, in confusion.

Alpha pulled up Baker's sniper scope on his visor and saw a jumbled pile of various hard shipping cases, a pile of cylindrical tubes and the blackened remains of shelters as well as what appeared to be bodies strewn about, as Baker slowly scanned their objective nervously switching back and forth from telephoto to thermal.

"Dog, any change?" asked Alpha as he withdrew from the troubling second view.

"Negative, but that is definitely the source of the IFF because I just started getting range numbers. We are only four hundred and ten meters, give or take a couple, away from the source of that signal now."

"Charley, Baker, cover us. Echo and I are going down for a closer look," Alpha replied quietly on the comm.

Alpha and Echo moved down the desolate valley approaching the objective, stealthily taking advantage of any available cover. When they reached a point above the small camp where they could effectively reconnoiter, the details of the massacre became visible.

"I count five casualties that look human from here, and there could be more in the shelters. What I don't see is any weapons or a standard comms uplink or vehicles," Alpha relayed the visual assessment to the tense team watching above. "Dog, where am I in relation to the IFF?"

"Twenty-seven meters on heading nine-two relative, Alpha. Second view makes it the first shelter on your left," the CAED replied from the ridge above.

"We're going in," Alpha returned as he and Echo descended to the silent camp. Echo went from one body to another careful to touch nothing before making an observation.

"These aren't soldiers, they're techs," Echo observed as Alpha peered into the open door of the first shelter.

"Looks like a survey team. The camp was probably overrun by an alien patrol and they were taken by surprise with just their side arms to fight with when it happened. They were all hit multiple times … Fox, are you getting this?" Alpha asked.

"Affirmative, Alpha. Looks like something that chain gun would do that opened up on us at the observation post. Overkill, much," Fox commented drily.

"Found it!" Alpha said triumphantly as he gingerly pulled aside debris to reveal the small transponder beneath a field desk.

"Don't touch it," Echo advised. "It might have a tamper charge under it."

"I agree," Dog replied quickly. "The device itself is only for short range friend or foe recognition, but moving it could send a signal that the bait has been disturbed."

"Roger that," Alpha agreed backing away from the ruined shelter.

"Another body in the second shelter; that makes six," Echo added quietly.

Alpha moved quickly from one body to the next, recording images and scanning embedded ID tags for his report, even if he would never get the chance to upload it. "Fox? Can you estimate when this happened?"

"Not with any degree of certainty without examining a body. Do you want me to come down there?"

"Ah, negative. We still don't know for sure if this is a trap. What's your best guess?"

"Whew. Okay, with multiple wounds, they bled out real fast so there won't be any lividity to go by and there doesn't appear to be any bloat. Switch to a thermal image so I can see if they're still warm."

"Roger that," Alpha replied changing his visor to heat.

"Okay, they're already cold. If they're stiff, in full rigor, it was a day to a day and a half ago. If they're flexible, it was more than two days ago at this temperature, most likely."

"Eww, yuck," Baker said quietly in disgust.

There is the sudden coarse sound of scuffling and a muffled shout, as Fox keys the all-squad alert and his visor relays images of dark figures from an odd angle before going into standby.

Alpha and Echo sprint from the dead camp back to the cover of the rocky ridge above, as the all-squad alert tone sounds.

"Baker, Charley! Report!" called Alpha over the comm.

"Negative, Alpha. No targets," replied Baker uncertainly.

"Clear also, no targets," Charley added.

"Dog? What do you have on Fox's visor?" Alpha demanded.

"Ah, not good. Visual is in standby but I'm getting a biomedical alert with elevated heart rate and something about a trauma 4 directive," replied the communications specialist. "I'm forcing the visor active now … oh, crap, they're dragging him."

The view from Fox's visor bumped and jolted from side to side as he was apparently being dragged by his feet across rough ground with his head lolling back and forth unconsciously. The view alternated in dizzying succession from an unobstructed view of the sky to a partial view of the horizon and back.

Alpha sighed as he quickly dropped his pack and drew out a black Fairbairn-Sykes fighting knife that bore the signs of long use from its concealed scabbard. "Dog, give me his locator beacon. Charley, you're next ranking officer so you're in command of Harvest as of now. Try to get them home. I'm going after Fox."

(11)

Normally, Orbital could provide the terrain feedback and position guidance in a detail sitrep to quickly locate any soldier's homing beacon anywhere on a planet. But Orbital was gone; Fox was injured, in enemy hands and probably running out of time with a trauma 4 directive as well as moving away into unknown territory as the sun set on the distant horizon.

Alpha scanned his perimeter in high magnification and thermal whenever he crossed a ridge or gained a vantage position. He quickly settled into the quick and quiet protocol lope that Harvest had perfected that consumed distance without exhausting energy reserves or resources. Luckily, the aliens seemed to be unaware of their prisoner's active locator beacon or the fact they were being followed, and Alpha was able to close the distance between them by crossing the more difficult terrain they had elected to avoid, possibly because they were still dragging Fox.

With the setting of the sun, the alien's progress had slowed considerably, but not stopped. Nightfall apparently was still an impediment to them despite their greater number of eyes, and Alpha's augmented visor more than made up for the difference.

Under the cover of darkness, Alpha crossed a ridge and scanned in the direction of Fox's locator beacon, catching the first glimpse of movement as the rear of the alien patrol disappeared over the next ridge. Alpha picked his route carefully and picked up the pace as he planned his attack.

The thermal view from the top of the next ridge told Alpha he was dealing with eight hostiles moving single file while dragging a single captive at the head of the column. Alpha picked up the pace again and began to parallel the apparent course of the alien patrol while gaining steadily. The broken terrain ahead looked like it could give him the advantage he needed if he used it correctly, and he hurried to reach it before the patrol passed.

Closing silently to crouch hidden amongst the rocks, Alpha was finally close enough to strike back. He could smell the strange foul odor of them as the last three aliens filed past his position in the dark.

Rising suddenly, Alpha silently moved to the rear of the column and closed to within striking distance of the last alien. Waiting a moment for an opening in the rocks to provide cover, Alpha threw an arm around the alien's neck and pulled it sideways from the column while driving the long fighting knife into the side of its head on a slight upward angle while revolving the point in the hope of severing whatever served it as a brainstem. Alpha knew the technique worked when the alien abruptly ceased to struggle, going limp soundlessly.

Strangely, the death of the alien soldier went undetected, and no calls of alarm rang out as Alpha quickly caught up again with the rear of the patrol. Randomly picking locations that provided cover to attack the rear of the single file patrol, Alpha worked his way forward silently, killing the alien soldiers one by one, until only the last two remained, still dragging Fox. In the dark of the night, Alpha crept close and drove the long knife into an alien's neck causing it to emit a shrill scream before falling face first and writhing on the ground. The remaining alien stood gaping in confusion at its stricken comrade till it caught sight of Alpha covered with blood, brandishing the long black blade. With a strange cry of surprise and alarm, the alien tried to draw the weapon slung over its shoulder and lost the contest when Alpha leaped upon it and rode it to the ground, driving the length of the long knife through one of its eyes as it thrashed and screamed.

Alpha's hands, arms and chest were soaked with dark blood from the alien kills and he began to succumb to its strange effects, first giggling, then laughing uncontrollably in the dark as he checked Fox for vital signs and fought to stay lucid. His mind was filled with jumbled dark thoughts, as strange sights and sounds combined to compete for his failing consciousness. His last recollection is hearing Charley's voice call something about an extraction over the tight beam that he doesn't understand and is unable to make any sense of it at all.

(12)

"Deep breaths, Alpha. Remember? Deep breaths, just like last time," Charley said, sounding worried as he looked into his commander's unfocused blood-shot eyes. "You probably aren't going to remember any of this, but I'm going to tell you anyway. A Command ship entered orbit under heavy defensive guard and broadcast an all squad alert. Dog verified the encryption and credentials as genuine, so we acknowledged the hail. They sent a drop ship to pick us up and we followed your beacon here. Alpha? Here, drink some water, I think you're really going to need it because when we got here, we found you with Fox sitting in a circle of severed alien heads. Alpha? Alpha, can you hear me?"

The team all ducked when a loud warning tone sounded in the troop compartment, and the unflappable drop ship pilot spoke over the intercom warning them the drop ship had been targeted by a missile with a high yield nuke signature launched from the surface. He also calmly acknowledged the inability of drop ships to perform realistic evasive maneuvers to escape the effects of nuclear weapons and the lack of available electronic countermeasures as the rapidly rising Doppler radar tone in the background warned of the approaching missile.

Some of the members of the Harvest team sighed and resigned themselves to their fates, while others shut their eyes and held their collective breath in fear, awaiting the missile's detonation as the seconds dragged on interminably. The bright yellow glare of the missile booster streamed through viewports to illuminate the interior of the drop ship for a moment as it streaked by, continuing on the parabolic path that would return it ultimately back to the surface.

After a long pause, a voice replied calmly over the intercom, "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. There has been a minor change in our itinerary and we will be docking with the Command ship in a few moments instead of dying instantly in a fireball.

"Please return your tray tables and seats to their full upright position and make sure your seat belts are securely fastened. All carry-on gear and weapons must be stowed under the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. On behalf of Drop Ship airlines and the entire crew, I'd like to thank you for joining us on this trip, and we are looking forward to seeing you on board again in the near future. Have a nice day."

Baker shook her head while grinning at Echo, "Is he a friend of yours?"

Alpha managed to pull himself up a bulkhead by the zero G handholds, despite the protests of two medics, to meet Echo's gaze.

"I'll bet you had something to do with that, didn't you?" the commander asked groggily.

In response, Echo only grinned and held up a small pair of wire cutting pliers. "Roger that."

End Transmission

Bio: "I am just a grandfather who writes tales and tells stories."

E-mail: F.M. Hill

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