Battle Group Epsilon

Chapter 15

Chapter 15

April 6 2184, 08:11 Hours (Standard Solar Time)
Unknown Location on Mars

Chang woke up. He was slumped forward against the restraints of his cockpit. His head hurt and when he tried to move, every muscle and bone felt uniformly bruised. His left arm felt strange as well. He couldn't move his hand and it felt swollen in his flight suit.
Where was he? He began to remember, one piece at a time. His Marauder had been disabled. He had been pulled into Mar's gravity and made it through the atmosphere. His parachutes had even deployed successfully. They had slowed his velocity but just barely enough as he had calculated roughly using his ship's instruments. Then nothing. He must have blacked out from the impact.
He sat up straight in his seat and groaned. He looked at the control console. Nothing was lit up, the power was dead. He used his good arm and disengaged the restraints. They fell off and he hit the button that opened the hatch. He took his time and managed to climb out. He lost his foothold and slid down into the rusty gravel. He took of his helmet and tossed it to the ground. He flopped onto his back and breathed the fresh air. He stared up at the violet sky and just rested for a time. It was when he heard a thunderous sound and saw something slash across the peaceful sky he was brought back to his senses.
He had to find out what was going on above. Just as importantly, he needed to let them know he was down here.
He scrambled over to the remains of his fighter on all fours. His left arm was beginning to hurt now as the numbness went away. There was a panel below the cockpit that had "Emergency" painted on it. Chang popped it off and slid the heavy olive green container out. It came out and hit the ground with a dull thud. He noticed that the case was punctured. A piece of shrapnel the size of a marble had gone through one side and came out the other. He hoped it hadn't hit anything important.
There was an electronic keypad that needed a four digit code to open. He punched it in and the case popped open. Inside was a stash of emergency supplies. There were half a dozen MREs, a poncho that could be configured as a sleeping bag or tent, and a first aid kit. There were two liters of water along with purification tablets and a canteen. There was a flare gun, an M17 high caliber pulse pistol with two extra clips, and even a land mine.
The most important of it all however was the datapad. It was multifunctional to every degree. It was his radio, his navigator, and his emergency beacon. And it was broken. The shrapnel had gone right through the device. Better it than him he supposed but it still left him helplessly stranded on a planet he had never been on with no one else knowing he was even there.
As he sifted through the supplies he found some hope. There was an auxiliary navigation system. It wouldn't be able to communicate with the fleet above but at least he could figure out where he was. He switched it on and waited for it to boot up. It took a few moments to load and then showed his position on Mars. He zoomed out and saw that he was about twenty kilometers east of a nearby settlement. Even more hopeful though was that only fifteen kilometers away was the regions largest military outpost; Washington Military Base. He had to get there; surly they would have shuttles or transports to take him up.
As he looked at the GPS he spotted trouble. There was a small group of military vehicles heading his way. None of them had ID implants to mark them as friendlies. He grimaced. Either they were security forces from the nearby town or they were a convoy from the Fist of Jupiter that had seen him crash land. It didn't really matter either way. Security forces couldn't help him, he needed military transport. If it was the Fist of Jupiter, that meant trouble. It would mean the battle had changed from a naval action to a ground assault.
There was a backpack in the case and he filled it with the rest of the supplies. He set the landmine up next to his wreckage, discretely under a thin layer of red dust so that only the sensor was showing. He set it to motion detection with a sixty second countdown. He grabbed the backpack and limped away as quickly as he could.
The place was barren. Vegetation had not taken well to Mar's iron based soil. He jogged past scattered wisps of yellow grass and the occasional cactus. He saw holes where snakes or rodents would likely have taken residence but even they were few and far between. Carrion was the one lifeform that had done particularly well in this harsh climate. There were many reasons but not least of which were the plagues that had ravaged the population.
A vulture circled above him. He disliked the birds, scavengers. An animal that couldn't catch its own meal didn't deserve to eat. You won't make a meal out of me he thought.
Chang headed due east. He glanced at the navigator and adjusted his course slightly north. He was twelve kilometers away when the MAKO transports rocketed down from the stratosphere and roared over him toward Washington Base. They were his ticket out of here.
His left arm was in pain now. He stopped for a moment and rested on a large rock. He opened the bottle of water and took a long sip. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead and flung it at the dusty ground. The sun was beating down at midday. An explosion in the distance made him hold his breath. It came from behind him and he knew instantly that it had been his pursuers. They'd found the surprise he had left them and the survivors wouldn't be happy about it.
He grabbed the pistol, placed it in a holster built into the flightsuit at his hip. He threw the pack over his shoulder. He needed to move.
There was a four lane paved highway that connected the town to the base. Chang avoided it at all costs. It might be easier on him but it would help his mechanized pursuers infinitely more. Instead he consulted the handheld GPS system and chose a path that went through as many natural obstacles as possible. There were scattered boulders, jagged ledges, and even a riverbed that had eroded over a million years before. All of it combined to make a treacherous road to follow for any four wheeled vehicles.
He watched the tracker constantly, keeping an eye on those behind him. They were close. By the time he heard explosions up ahead he put them at just a kilometer west of him and closing. The explosions let him know the base was under attack. The MAKO dropships, he figured, must have been the fleet's reinforcements. Things were getting serious.
There were five klicks to go. He broke into an awkward run that was closer to an enthusiastic hobble. On a normal day he would have been able to do the distance in twenty two minutes barely breaking a sweat. This was hardly an ideal situation though. His arm was broken, he was sure, and his whole body ached. That was little excuse though and he put the pain to the back of his mind and focused only on the motions. One step forward and then another. One more after that. No problem.
His navigator showed a squad of marines just up ahead. He should have recognized the firing positions but it just went over his head. The off road vehicles were kicking up a red veil of dirt behind him. When he saw how close it was, he ran off to the side of the riverbed he had been following. There was a large boulder and he ducked behind it.
He checked the navigator. The marines were only a half klick further. All he had to let them know he was there with the flare gun. It would let both sides know his precise location but he had a feeling the Fist of Jupiter knew he was there anyway. He just had to hope the marines were quick. He pulled out the singleshot pistol and pointed it in the air. It thumped and a green burning flare skyrocketed upward.
He yanked out the pistol and fumbled with the safety as he heard the electric hum of an engine. Gunshots. He heard the unmistakable sound of automatic weapons and he saw the dirt shoot upwards next to his boulder but it took a moment to link the two together.
He twisted his arm around the boulder and snapped off a few rounds. He had no intention of hitting anything. It was just a show of strength, to let them know he was armed and hopefully to keep their heads down. He needed to buy himself time.
The navigator showed the marines were still up ahead. They hadn't moved. Had they missed his flare? Even if they had they couldn't have missed the gunfire. The base was under attack though, there was gun fire everywhere.
He realized at that moment that if he wanted to live, he would have to save himself. He left the backpack behind the rock, got up and ran. They were shooting at him or at least they must have. He did not see the rounds hit the ground near him and his pounding heart blocked out all other sound. He had never run so hard or with so much urgency in his life. In fact, he rarely ran from anything in his life.
And then there was the explosion. Even his heart couldn't block out that sound. Dirt and rocks flew in all directions and Chang was lifted off his feet. There was no pain, in fact he felt very little. The delirium that was unavoidable after everything that had happened that day made him feel as though he were flying. His flight was short lived. He crash landed back onto the ground face first and for the second time that day, he was knocked unconscious.