bombing run. Instead of releasing ordnance, however, the two Shrikes just buzz the site at low altitude and waggle the tips of their stubby wings as they pass us overhead.
I walk over to a large chunk of concrete, sit down on it, and feel a sudden urge to just lie down in the wet dirt altogether. Halley walks up next to me and sits down with a grunt, not even bothering to use something solid as a makeshift seat.
“I have had my fucking fill of near-death experiences today,” she says.
All around us, the wind blows flaming debris around. The air is acrid with the smell of burning stuff, and no matter where I look, the ground is covered with bits and pieces of the building that was our shelter and fighting position just ten minutes ago.
“I hope this counts as a defeat,” I say to Halley, “because if this is a victory, I’d really hate to see what it looks like when we get our asses kicked.”
Chapter 24
The Navy comes prepared for once. The two drop ships that descend out of the rain-heavy clouds thirty minutes later are loaded to the wingtips with air-to-ground ordnance pods. The Shrikes circle overhead as the drop ships land on the ground in front of the ruins of Willoughby Four-Seven. When the tail ramps of the drop ships lower onto the muddy ground, each ship disgorges a full squad of Marines in sealed battle armor.
“Glad to see you people,” Commander Campbell tells the lead Marine when they reach our ragged and tired group of survivors. “It’s getting a little unfriendly down here.”
“So we’ve heard,” the Marine says. Because his suit is sealed, his voice is projected through the speaker in his helmet, and he sounds disconcertingly artificial as a result. “Had a bit of trouble with the new neighbors, I see.”
We trot to the waiting drop ships while the newly arrived Marines bring up the rear. When I walk up the ramp of the closest Wasp, I see that the hatch to the cockpit is closed, and that the crew chief standing by the ramp controls is in full ChemWar gear as well.
The pilots of the drop ships do not waste any time with sight-seeing. As soon as our ragtag mix of civilians, Marines, and Navy stragglers is distributed onto the two Wasps, the pilots gun the engines and get the ships airborne before the rear cargo hatches have closed all the way.
“You pick up any more of my people?” the Commander asks the Marine team leader seated on the bench across the aisle from him. The Marine shakes his head.
“Not us, sir. But there’s SAR flights in the air all over this place. They sent down just about every drop ship in the battle group, I think.”
“What do we have up in orbit?”
“Carrier Battle Group Sixty-Three, sir. The Manitoba, two cruisers, two destroyers, and a frigate.”
“Hot damn,” the Commander says. “That’s a lot of tonnage to send our way.”
“We were in the neighborhood, I guess. Live-fire exercise out by Deimos. We were supposed to practice zero-G assaults, but then your buoy popped out of Alcubierre and started wailing.”
“Sorry about spoiling your exercise,” the Commander says, and the Marine chuckles.
“Not at all, sir. A combat drop beats exercise every time. Three more drops, and I get to pin on the Master drop badge.”
Now it’s the Commander’s turn to chuckle.
“The way things are going right now, I think you Marines are going to get your fill of combat drops soon enough, son.”
The Wasp has no windows back in the cargo hold, but I can tell when we leave the atmosphere of Willoughby when my body pulls against the lap belt of my seat. We hear the engine noises changing as the drop ship transitions to spaceflight and climbs into orbit to meet up with the carrier.
The sensations of forward motion and weight return when we enter the artificial gravity field of the assault carrier. I’ve never been in a drop ship that docked with something floating in space, and I expect something similar to the shuttle docking procedure when I arrived for Fleet School on Luna, but the skids of the drop ship simply touch down on a hard surface. Then we’re in motion again, this time being lowered on the platform of a large elevator.
When the cargo ramp lowers, there’s a welcoming committee waiting for us. The flight deck of the assault carrier is cavernous compared to the two-ship affair on the Versailles. I