Will’s report had been broadcast over the squad frequency, so the entire unit was aware of the situation. Nevertheless, after a brief pause (during which he’d probably reported to the lieutenant), Sergeant Harris addressed the squad. “Alright second squad, we know there was some kind of fight over near our right flank. Keep your eyes open and report any contact immediately.”
Over the next 20 minutes there were no additional contacts in our sector, but there were three other burned out areas in the first squad’s zone. It appeared that the enemy had been conducting search and destroy ops in this area, trying to hunt down the locals who were operating out of these hills. There was no sign of casualties at any of the sites.
I was just thinking that the CAC troopers didn’t seem to be doing too well when I crested a small hill and saw what looked like six or eight bodies in the center of a blackened section of grasslands at the extreme edge of my visibility.
This time I didn’t hesitate. “Cain reporting. I see some bodies up ahead.” My voice was shrill with excitement. I could feel the droplets of sweat running down the back of my neck.
The sergeant snapped back quickly. “OK, Cain. Get a grip, and give me a full report. Now!”
I swallowed hard and said, “Estimate six to eight bodies, range 1000 meters. Area burned out. No energy readings, no enemy contacts.” After a second I added, “Should I move up and check it out, sarge?”
This was our most important sighting so far, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if the sergeant had told Will to check it out. But that’s not the way the Corps works. I may be the new guy, and this may be my first assault mission, but I was a marine and I was expected to be able to perform as one. As far as my field commander was concerned I wouldn’t have been assigned to an assault unit unless my instructors, combat veterans all, considered me ready.
“Squad, halt. Cain, move forward and reconnoiter the area. Thompson, move in and provide cover.”
I started forward slowly, checking my display for any signs of artificial energy output that could indicate a hidden enemy. Negative. No power output. I glanced over and could see Will moving in on my right. He maintained a distance of about 40 meters, to the right of and slightly behind my position.
Temperature readings were all normal as I approached the bodies. Whatever had happened here, it had been at least a day ago. The area had clearly been subjected to some type of incendiary or high explosive fire – the grass was completely burnt and a small stand of trees nearby had been blown into matchsticks. I reported as I advanced, doing my best to sound calm despite the fact that I was so nervous I could hardly take a breath.
The bodies were clustered on a small rise. There were seven of them in total, three wearing the uniform of the planetary militia, the others in civilian miner’s dress. All of them were clad in heavy protective vests and metal helmets. Their faces wore horrid expressions, their features twisted in agonizing contortions. Their mouths and nostrils were caked with dried blood.
As my mind reached its conclusion, a warning light on my tactical display confirmed my deduction. Gas. “Cain reporting…seven bodies total. They appear to be victims of a gas attack. My sensors confirm the presence of….” I looked up at the tactical display for the answer. "…trace quantities of Kirax-3 nerve gas. Current concentration .032 parts per million…within the danger zone but below immediately lethal levels.”
So they were using gas to hunt down the locals. The militia’s little guerilla war must have been doing some pretty serious damage for the CAC forces to resort to these tactics. Nerve gas is a nasty weapon, usually used against second line troops lacking effective counter-measures, and then in only the most desperate situations. By custom, those who employ gas can expect no quarter if the battle turns against them. Why would they take such steps in a fight over a relatively unimportant hunk of ground like Carson’s World? I would get an answer to that question, but not until years later.
There were several moments of silence – the squad leader conferring with higher authority, no doubt – then the comlink crackled. “Alright second squad, continue advance. Full chemical warfare procedures in effect.”
That last command didn’t really change anything. We still had our suits fully sealed, although the atmosphere of Carson’s World was well within the acceptable range. Normal operating procedures would have called for us to switch to filtered external air after twelve hours, leaving a full day of atmospheric capacity in reserve. Standard chemical warfare procedures dictated that we would remain on our internal air supply/regeneration capacity until we were down to a four hour reserve. As with many of our procedures, there was a certain element of overkill. The atmospheric purification systems in our suits were perfectly capable of filtering out most known bacteriological and chemical agents, including Kirax-3 nerve gas. Still, better to be overly cautious than to see a whole company wiped out by some new or unexpected weapon.
It took us ninety minutes to cover the next two klicks. There were still no enemy contacts, but further up the line they found two more groups of bodies. The first was had four corpses, definitely gas victims.
The second group consisted of eleven bodies, but these were spread out over a much wider area. They were all wearing protective breathing gear and had been killed by rifle and grenade fire. Though we found no enemy bodies in the area, there were enough bits and pieces of CAC armor lying around for us to conclude that the enemy had in fact suffered casualties in this firefight.
A full analysis indicated that this action had occurred within the past eighteen hours. From the look of the tracks leaving the location, the enemy had withdrawn back toward the settled area. Whether they had been repulsed or had simply completed their mission and retired was unclear.
We continued our advance, but about fifteen minutes after leaving the site of the last skirmish, we were ordered to halt. The first squad had made contact with the locals.
The militia had been advised of the basic tactical plan through scrambled pulse communications from Fleet, but they were not provided with specific schedules or locations for fear that the enemy would intercept the transmission. Their instructions were to be ready for action on short notice, and apparently they had listened.
We held our position for almost an hour, and if there is one thing I learned quickly in the corps, nothing makes a sergeant crazier than watching his men relax with nothing to do. Fortunately, Sergeant Harris managed to come up with lots of ways for us to use the down time. We checked and re-checked our weapons, ran a system diagnostic on our armor and did a full analysis of the surrounding area – atmosphere, energy readings, chemical residue.
Finally the orders came. Our squad was to advance due east toward the settlement of Warrenville and take the position. Our attack would be supported by one fire team of the third squad. Warrenville was the smallest of the dozen or so towns that made up the entirety of the inhabited area of Carson’s World.
According to the locals, the town was lightly garrisoned and we could expect minimal resistance. Most of the guerilla activity had been to the north and the enemy had deployed its strongest forces to that sector.
Our attack was essentially a diversion. We were to go in first, take the objective, and hold it against any counterattack (It was the “any” part that worried me the most). After the enemy had moved troops south to deal with us, the rest of our platoon would link up with the first platoon and a large group of militia for the main attack against the northern defenses. The third platoon was to cover the eastern and southern perimeter to intercept the enemy retreat.