Stevens grinned. “A puncture wound, nothing serious. And look! I got a souvenir!” He pulled a jagged piece of metal that resembled a thick, warped and twisted spatula from his pocket.
Trexler took it and studied it, then handed it back with a shake of his head. “I don’t have a clue what it is. Do you?”
Stevens’ eyes shone. “I think it’s a piece of one of those Chessori ships that blew up. Pretty neat, huh?”
A grin lit Trexler’s face. “That is truly a souvenir, Lieutenant. I almost envy you. Do you realize you’re probably the only man on all of Earth to own a piece of a Chessori ship?”
“Jeez, I hadn’t looked at it like that, sir. Uh, I don’t have to turn it in or anything, do I?”
“Definitely not, and that’s a promise. If anyone demands it from you, tell them to come see me. I’ll set them straight.”
“You can do that, sir?”
Trexler smiled and looked at Waverly. For once, Waverly, too, was smiling, and the communicator was silent.
“I guess we haven’t spent much time on chain of command lectures, Ray.” He lifted his eyes to Stevens. “He’s your boss, Lieutenant, and mine. He’s in charge of all Earth’s space forces, and his battle hasn’t even begun yet.”
“I have two tanks out here,” Walters called. “You’d better get back to your post, Lieutenant. They’ll probably be coming at the back, too.”
Stevens left, and Walters dragged the big gun into position. Trexler saw some thirty Chessori troops working their way toward the building.
“The tanks have stopped,” Walters announced. “They’re in range, but just barely.”
His big gun started firing, one shot after another without pause. Waverly pocketed his communicator, moved to a window farther down the side, and started firing. Trexler heard heavy firing from the back of the building as he lifted his communicator to his lips.
“Tom, we’re under attack again.”
“Okay, I’m already headed back. Thirty seconds, sir.”
The corner of the building started taking a beating, and suddenly the corner itself blew in. The blast threw Trexler back into a wall. When he picked himself up, Walters was doing the same. He didn’t see Waverly, but he felt completely exposed with the walls and part of the floor missing. The ceiling sagged down from above, and Trexler wondered if it would fall in on them.
Chessori troops, many of them, were rushing the building. Trexler found his weapon and lay prone near the edge. Waverly’s words came back to him, “Aim every shot.” He took his time and did so. Bolts from Chessori blasters impacted all around him and Walters.
A fighter flashed by, and the ground around the advancing Chessori troops erupted. Trexler couldn’t see any targets through the smoke and dust. He heard heavy firing from the rear of the building and guessed that the fighter was making a pass back there, as well. A Chessori trader came in from the right, but before it opened up, the front of it exploded. It crashed to the ground about three hundred meters away. The frigate made a tight turn and settled into position above the building. Its great guns opened up on the few remaining Chessori troops, and Trexler knew this wave had been repulsed.
His communicator was nowhere to be found, so he had no way of reaching the frigate. Walters was on his knees, heaving rubble aside. Lieutenant Stevens arrived on the run and started helping. Trexler joined in, and all three of them lifted a heavy piece of the wall and heaved it aside. Waverly’s body came into view.
Stevens knelt down beside him and felt for a pulse. “He’s alive, and he’s breathing.” He began a quick assessment, running his hands along Waverly’s torso, then his arms and legs. “Nothing obvious, but we’d better not move him.”
Suddenly, they were surrounded by Raiders, all wearing vests and kits. One immediately went to Waverly, set a large pack down, and leaned over him, beginning his own assessment.
Walters backed away and stood up to greet his friends. Another medic began unwrapping him. The medic studied the wounds, then took a magnifying glass from his pack and carefully examined Walter’s eyes. “Looks like one of those grenades found you. You’re done for this trip, Walters. Strip.”
“Hey, come on.”
“You know the drill. You probably have wounds you don’t even know about.”
Walters removed what was left of his trousers and stood in his skivvies while the medic checked him out. “Okay, close your eyes.” Walters stood while the medic sprayed him with copious amounts of something, then began winding gauze around his torso, then his arm. Trexler couldn’t believe how fast the man worked.
“You’d better check on the admiral, Fred.”
The medic glanced over his shoulder at Trexler sitting on the floor with his back to a wall. “He’s an admiral? You’d never know by looking at him.” Bandages went around Walters’ head, then the medic moved to Trexler while Walters pulled his pants back on.
The medic’s hands moved rapidly over Trexler’s body. “Got any hurts, sir?”
“No, none at all.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. I need to check you over, sir.”
Trexler smiled. “Don’t want to make the admiral strip, huh?”
“Sorry, sir. You can do it, or I’ll do it for you. Just lower your pants so I can check your legs. Don’t try to take them off. That shoe won’t come off easily.” Trexler stood up and dropped his pants, what was left of them. Dust filled the air as he lowered the pants. The medic sprayed his legs, then Trexler pulled his pants back up and removed his shirt. More spraying, then the shirt went back on.
“Sit, sir.” The cut on his chin was quickly cleaned, pulled together with band-aids, then dressed. Scissors came out, and the shoe and sock were cut away. “Any pain, sir?”
“A little. It’s mostly numb.”
“Numb is better than no feeling at all.” He pulled a syringe from his kit and pulled off the cap.
“What’s that, Sergeant?”
“Morphine, sir. I’ll follow it up with a general antibiotic. It’ll hold you until you get to sick bay.”
“No. I’ll take the antibiotic, but not the morphine. I have a lot of work ahead of me yet, and lots of lives are in the balance.”
The medic stared at him, then gently dislodged the fragment. “Still no pain, sir?”
“Uh, more now.”
The magnifying glass was back in the medic’s hand. He leaned close to examine the foot, then looked back up into Trexler’s eyes. “You’re going to feel it a lot more in a little while, sir. Three toes are crushed, and there are some loose bone fragments.”
“How about pulling out the fragments and wrapping it up?”
“If we were on Earth, I would, but these Empire docs might want all the parts to put it back together properly. This could never be properly repaired at home, but it might here. Let’s wrap it up and let them decide.”
He peered hard into Trexler’s eyes as his hands did their work. “Sir, make sick bay your first stop when you reach the fleet. You don’t want to be making life and death decisions without some kind of pain reducer. Trust me on this. I know what I’m talking about.”
“I’ll take your advice, Sergeant, and I appreciate your bluntness.”
“Rank has no bearing in medicine, sir. I treat everyone equally.” In almost no time at all, he wrapped a thick white bandage around the foot, then another olive drab bandage on top of that. “Keep the foot elevated, sir.”
He moved on to Lieutenant Stevens. Trexler tried to check on Waverly, but he couldn’t see anything through the press of bodies.
“Who’s in charge here?” he called out.
A captain came to his side and crouched down. “How you doing, soldier?”
“I need to get back to my squadron. I’m Admiral Trexler. Can you get me up to the frigate?”
“It’s gone. You’re an admiral? What the heck are you doing here?”
“It wasn’t by choice, I assure you. Can I borrow your radio?”
“No need, sir. We’re evacuating Colonel Waverly to a cruiser. You can go with him.”
“How is he?”