All this medical hauling got me thinking how I got here
21 Mar 2021Seamus Brand
I'm hauling medical supplies for the Alliance, last superpower I can stomach working for: I've been burned by the Empire and the Federation. In the former's case, literally. All I can think about, though, is how I got here.
I've been trained by the Federation and the Empire and been left dejected by both, in that order. Only the Federation literally left me for dead on a suicide mission. Only me and the kid survived the hostile insertion. Feds said we had good cover and no anti air. Fucking pack of lies. Corvettes turned and fled as soon as we hit the 'sphere. Dropships kept flying per orders. Kept flying till their wings were torn off by flack anyway. Supposedly a SpecOps team was sent ahead of time in SRVs to map the landing zone and tag targets for the drop. It was meant to be easy. I was meant to drop in with the team, grab the intel we needed and get out. 0 causalities and, ideally, 0 kills: the target was Imperial after all.
Finding the SRV with a spec ops dead from a shot to the back of their head was, weirdly, the second biggest surprise I had that day. The first was that me and the kid survived the crash.
I could tell as soon as we hit the 'sphere that something was off. The dropship was swaying something fierce and I could hear the pilot cursing like I'd heard only my Ma do. I couldn't make out much but I knew our escort, two Corvettes with two fighters each, were gone: not gone dead, gone fled. We were solo. I glanced around. Nobody heard but me and the kid. Poor cunt joined the unit yesterday. He was barely 18. We locked eyes and I winked. Nothing to worry about, standard, I'll get you home, the wink said. Shit, I hope that's how it looked to him. He winked back. I guess it worked or he was as deluded as I was.
Being a Federal Marine, I had experienced some rough as fuck landings. Like, riding through outback Australia in a car not built for it rough. This landing though? Oh man, if I had lunch I would have lost it. The initial rock of supercruise to orbital cruise was fine, bit rough, but ultimately fine. After that? Holy hell. I'd flown with this pilot before but it sure as fuck didn't feel like that. I didn't realise until after that he was pulling turns to avoid intense anti-air fire in a ship not at all built for the turns he was trying. Again, I glanced at the kid. No wink was gonna cut it this time. I called straight to him "better than any fucking royal show coaster, right mate?" I forgot not everyone had Aussie heritage but he seemed to have understood the general gist of what I was getting at. Two thumbs up and a "fucking ey" was his reply, I smiled: maybe this kid was gonna live.
I realised things were completely cunted when frag rounds tore the four marines next to me limb from limb. That's not an exaggeration: I wiped a liver from my faceplate on that ship. The Gs really kicked up and it hit me that we were crashing. I dialed to the emergency frequency and yelled as loud as I could to those listening "increase your suit's gel layer, keep your restraints and air on, do not unbuckle, leave the dead where they’re resting, we will make it through this". Just two of us did - me, and the kid.
I don't believe in gods. Or at least, any I know. But it’s a tad strange that everyone died except me and the kid that day. I don't mean strange as in, he and I survived due to strong bones and good training. I mean, shrapnel lodged in literally everyone else on the boat. Nobody had any chance except for me and the kid - and the kid's leg was broke (the Imperial academy did teach me to say "broken" but fuck the posh cunts, you know what I mean).
I did a visual check and a comms check. I was officially the most senior Marine alive. The Kid had joined yesterday and now he was following the Gunny. Sure thing bud, I’ll get you home. Hostile planet, team shredded, ship abandoned us upon drop. Piece of piss, I can handle it
Kid had a bit of a limp but seemed to be okay so we gathered up some spare oxygen and ammo and set off to where to the spec ops team was meant to be: they’d get us home.
A whole Earth day before we found what was left of them. Well beyond the 10km they were supposed to be observing from. It was a fucktonne further that we found her. Bullet clean through the back of the neck, hands still on the controls. The kid was confused – “it was a two person team: where is the other person? They can’t be far, right sir? They might need help.” I didn’t know what to say to the poor deluded bastard. I just kicked the tyre and sat in the dust. My feeling from the minute we hit the ‘sphere was becoming more and more justified.
We slept in the SRV that night. The kid was good about the dead – recognized burial was beyond our capabilities but thought they needed more than just being thrown in the dust. Kid rigged the cannons to fire at high enough velocity to send a corpse to Sol, eventually. We did just that. Fried the cannon completely but fuck me, completely worth it – at least if I was the corpse.
I told the kid it was time to get moving but he was determined to fix the SRV. Said he had some undergrad in engineering on Mars. It was in the middle of telling him that our best chance for survival was finding some farmers nearby that I saw the bone sticking out from his leg. Kid has isolated his suit leg and limped along with me this whole time. When I quizzed him why he put himself through that his answer was simple: “I’m a marine, sir.” They don’t teach you how to respond to that sort of a bad ass cunt, I can tell you that.
The kid managed to fix the SRV before completely collapsing. Turned out whoever had disabled it had not destroyed it completely but had, strangely, made the point of using an Imperial weapon on the main fuel line. Weird, according to the kid, that someone had taken a military weapon to that line, but I did not have time to quiz him.
The Kid passed out in the back of the SRV maybe 4 hours after he fixed it? I was trying to head back to the SpecOps insertion point at the time, completely unawares of how shit an idea that was. I was just following Federal training and assumed there would be an extraction ship waiting for the team. I still think about how fucked it was to assume that after everything I’d seen that mission.
Eventually, Imperial Eagles on patrol spotted us. Come to a halt, hands in the air, the whole thing. I don’t know if it was the stress of the arrest or the insertion or legitimate hunger at the time but I told them the truth straight away. I was a federal marine, I was there to raid Demetro Station, that I was supported by two corvettes, four federal gunships and a federal dropship, that the ‘vettes and gunships had fled immediately and the dropship was just a sacrificial lamb, about how now my only priority was keeping the kid alive. They thanked me for my honesty, said I was a “guest” of the Empire, and that the kid was going to be cared for to the best of their ability. When I scoffed they told me he and I, as his guardian, were being sent to Achenar. Hell, I think my mouth was ajar the entire trip there.
I was well enough to walk on the jumps to Achenar but the Kid wasn’t. Clearly shock had kept him going during the insertion and rescue. I strolled around what I later learned was an Imperial Cutter and learned all I could about this beautiful ship. I strolled around the med bay to the living quarters and bridge, to the cargo bay and weapons systems. I was unescorted and felt as if this was my room in a hotel.
Eventually, I asked the Captain what sort of navy left a POW alone to explore one of their ships. The Captain let loose a slow grin before revealing: “this is no imperial naval vessel, buddy: you’re flying on an independent Commander’s commission! I was heading to Achenar because I wanted to, you and your brother are just here for the ride.” I was confused and asked why he was heading to Achenar. His answer was simple, but profound “heard Achenar needs Independent Pilots to support people and medicine. You and your brother were very important people who took up very little space, rest of the hold was full of Medicine!”
I didn’t correct him when he said “brother”. I suppose it set the tone for the rest of our relationship, But ultimately the most important course had been set: my brother and I were heading for Achenar. It was going to change our lives forever. He was going to get the best medical care in the galaxy and learn to walk again. I was going to learn exactly what I was capable of.
I guess this wasn’t about just delivering emergency medical supplies. But given the choice years later who to delivery medical supplies to: there was only one superpower left.