BROTHERS


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Chapter XIII: An Incendiary Situation

"Sir?"

Becker looked over at Rodney, standing beside him in their two-man foxhole. He was holding out the commlink, offering it to Becker.

Becker took the commlink and put it to the side of his head. "Becker."

An unfamiliar voice came in return. "Lieutenant, I've just informed your captain. You have air support and artillery available. He said I should call you first."

Becker ducked as a nearby tree was hit with a hail of heavy shuriken. He stood back up, looking around. When he was sure nothing was shooting in his direction, he began speaking again. "Good news. What type of support?"

"We have Lightning fighters, strike and basic, and some Marauders coming in. I have a battery of twelve Earthshakers, I can give you three of those. Half a squadron each of the fliers, but I can't promise they'll stick with you. The rest of your company is pretty heavy in, and word is the rest of the Median IV may be sent down there."

"Good enough."

"Where'd you like us to stop dropping?"

"I'm going to be moving back toward the company. I'd like it to drop in around us. I'll hand you back to Private Mayes, he can give you the coordinates you'll need."

Becker turned and handed the commlink back to Rodney. "Give them what they need, Rod."

Rodney nodded, then began speaking to the person on the other end.

Becker grabbed the edge of his foxhole, then pulled himself up and out of it. He crouched low while motioning for the rest of the soldiers to get out of their holes. Once they were, he announced his plan.

"We're going back for the company?" Bob asked.

"Yes, that's it. Our duty is to aid our fellow soldiers, same as they'd help us. Keep close and keep your weapons ready. I don't want to take any chances on losing more men."

The soldiers gave their affirmatives.

Becker turned and began walking, the platoon behind him. In minutes artillery shells and bombs began dropping around the platoon, Rodney continually updating the platoon's position.

* * *

Mack nervously looked around, not trusting the trees around him. One ambush was bad enough, there was nothing preventing another from happening.

The rest of the platoon crouched low while walking, trying to provide a low target and stick close to the ground, should they need to drop.

The air was heavy with the scent of burned wood, smoke, and dead people laying about. Eldar and human lay dead in the forest, testament to the savage battle going on within it. Explosions, screaming engines, whistling shuriken weapons, chattering rifles, roaring heavy weapons, all combined to make a hellish sound that tore at Mack's ears.

And somehow, in the confusion of it all, his fears were confirmed.

A large force of Eldar, some armed with rifle-like weapons, some armed with pistols and swords.

Mack immediately began backing up, as did the soldiers around him. Rifles opened fire, and frag missiles screamed in on the Eldar. Many of them fell, but their return fire founds its mark on some of the Guardsmen as well.

Andrew, standing right in front of Mack, began convulsing as shuriken marched up his body, most of them embedding, some slicing all the way through. He fell to the ground, his uniform shredded and his body badly mangled.

Justin, squad three's heavy bolter loader, was hit with a spray of shuriken in his lower abdomen. He dropped the ammunition cases and grabbed for his stomach. His lower organs slowly began falling out of the hole in his torso, and blood came gushing out. He bent over, trying to better hold it all in, but was hit in his upper chest by another spray of shuriken.

Natalie, part of squad five, fell against Mack, her stomach horribly sliced by a shuriken. He quit firing, dropping his rifle on its sling, and picked her up, carrying her along with him.

As he turned and ran, he saw Lloyd trying to give him and some others covering fire. Mack screamed at him, "Put the gun down and get running!" He began to comply, but before he could he was hit at close range with a shuriken pistol, his head being torn through by the sharp discs.

Mack jumped down in a foxhole, setting Natalie down hard. She groaned, then looked down at her stomach. "Do you think you can do something for me, Mack?"

Mack nodded. He reached down and unfastened Natalie's first aid kit from her belt, pulling out a needle and some thread. "I'm sorry, this is going to hurt."

"Just do it."

Mack pulled up Natalie's flak jacket and shirt, then began stitching up the wound. It wasn't as bad as he thought, but it was still bad.

All around, other soldiers were dropping in their foxholes, some tending to wounded, others tending to themselves. The situation had gone from grim to downright terrible.

* * *

Becker collapsed in a large foxhole, pulling Rodney and Duncan down with him.

"Let's have a look at you, Duncan," he said, turning Duncan over.

Duncan was hunched over, obviously in pain. His rifle hung on his shoulder, unused as his right hand was clutching his left arm.

"How's the arm?" Becker asked, then wished he hadn't.

Duncan grimaced, then pulled his right hand away from his left arm. The arm ended in a ragged stump, the hand missing and the arms badly torn. The flesh was ragged, and at least two broken shuriken were lodged in bones.

"Crap." Becker called over to Rodney, "Rod! I'll need your kit to go with Duncan's and mine. His arm's bad, real bad. We need to get something on it now!"

Rodney came over and quickly fumbled for his first aid kit, then pulled it out and opened it. He retried his bandages and gauze tape. Becker did the same with his kit and Duncan's.

"Hold his arm while I bandage it," Becker said. Rodney complied, while Duncan shivered and began whimpering. Becker pressed the bandages down around the stump and the torn arm, then wrapped the gauze tape around it.

He then pulled out a shot of morphine from his kit and pressed it to Duncan's side, then pressed the button, shooting the drug into Duncan's body quickly.

"Morph'?" Rodney asked.

"Privilege of being an officer. It'll help keep the pain down for a while."

The commlink came alive with voices just then, demanding to know what was going One Platoon. Rodney grabbed the commlink and began speaking into it, reporting the situation.

Becker leaned over and shouted, "Call in some strikes right here! I want them right at twenty yards!"

"Sir, isn't that too close?"

"I think I'd rather take my chance with a close bomb than with those Eldar."

"Point taken, sir." Rodney began relaying the coordinates to the support coordinator.

Becker leaned back against the foxhole. Remarkably quickly, two Marauders, their engines sounding like the roar of an ancient beast, came swooping low, dropping incendiary bombs close to the platoon's location. Another pair swooped in low, dropping another round of bombs. Trees shattered and burst into flames from the hits, and many Eldar began scattering, dozens of them on fire.

Artillery also began hitting the ground close to the platoon. Loose dirt and rocks fell down in the foxhole with Becker, shook loose by the heavy vibrations resulting from the explosions.

Some Eldar got through the ring of fire. They were quickly shot by some of the platoon soldiers. A few, in dark green armour with intricate helmets, ran toward the location of squad two. A heavy bolter set up nearby began roaring, the explosive bolts killing many of the aliens. One managed to reach one of the foxholes, swinging its long, thin chainsword in an arc toward Paul Coffey. Paul dodged a series of small laser shots from the Eldar's helmet, then fired his rifle directly in the alien's face.

The Eldar's helmet cracked and split under the weight of fire, and he screamed as his face was hit by dozens of autorifle rounds. As he fell to the ground, his arm continued its swing, connecting briefly with Paul's left hand. One of Paul's fingers was half cut off by the blade, and Paul dropped his rifle and grabbed his hand, holding the half of his finger that was left. The dead Eldar dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Paul stopped holding his hand for a moment to reach up and take the Eldar's sword.

Becker looked around. No more attacks seem imminent, and the fire support seemed to be doing a good job of holding it back.

He jumped up out of his foxhole, then yelled out, "We're moving out again! We need to reach the company for support!"

Around him, the others wearily pulled themselves back out of their holes, carrying their dead and wounded comrades, and nursing new wounds.

* * *

Jim came up out of his foxhole again, his rifle held at the ready.

The fire support seemed to move away from a certain area. Jim shrugged. It was probably called away by Becker to give the platoon an opening to move out and back to the company.

In a huddled mass, the platoon again began moving. Jim stopped by one of the Eldar to grab a shuriken catapult, and a belt laden with ammo and grenades. He grabbed two more belts, slinging them on his shoulder, and picked up a sword as he passed one of the green armoured warriors. Souvenirs, he'd call them, but they were also deadly weapons he could use.

Wilbur walked up beside him. "What you got there?"

"Some stuff I thought would be useful."

Wilbur nodded. "Ah. I grabbed a few of their grenades. Weird design, but it looks like it'd be pretty effective."

Jessy came up behind them and said, "I hope you don't plan on using that sword's teeth any time soon, Jim."

Jim looked back at her. "Why?"

"Damn things are coded to their user. Can't use it until someone reprograms it. Smart, aren't they?"

"How do you know that?"

Jessy pointed to her back with her thumb, and Jim noticed one of the swords tied into her gear sack. He shook his head. Wilbur laughed.

"So," Wilbur said, "you think this time we'll be able to get somewhere?"

"Hard to say," Jim replied. "We're still inside the support ring."

"True. But what do you say our chances for another ambush are?"

"Very good to almost certain."

"Thanks for the optimism."

"Can't lie to a friend," Jim said, smirking.

* * *

Becker looked at the ground around him. It was blackened and beat. The trees, those not still on fire, were shredded, dark husks, nothing like the majestic evergreens that had stood there just an hour earlier.

But there was no time to think about such things. They were passing beyond the support ring now, and would have to be careful for a few minutes while the support shifted to follow them.

Now more of a regular occurrence than a surprise to Becker, Eldar soldiers opened fire from hidden positions. The soldiers fell, hitting the ground almost all at once. Only Jeff and Alan fell, Jeff taking a hail of shuriken across his chest and Alan being hit as he fell by a shuriken that ricocheted off a tree and sinking itself in his face.

Others got wounded, but Becker had no time to worry about them. He was sure they could take care of themselves, with the help of their fellow soldiers. He reached over and yanked the commlink off Rodney's back, then screamed into it, "I need you to get that damn support moved forward fifty yards now!"

A rather annoyed reply came back, acknowledging his request. He handed the commlink back to Rodney, then began looking around.

The platoon was pinned, but no one was giving up. The squad's heavy bolters were being set up and the missile launchers loaded. Becker crawled over to where the heavy weapon gunners were.

"Can I get you to coordinate your firing on a spot toward the center of the Eldar, but spread out a little to give us a wall of firepower?"

Nods came as answers, and Becker motioned for all special weapon troopers to also come forward. Once they were in earshot, he said, "Flamers, meltaguns, and plasma guns need to spray their fire in a wide arc across the area in front of us. I want a sheet of flames if possible. I want that whole section of the forest as hot as you can make it, and then some. I'll be calling bombs and artillery down on it too. That should hold them back long enough for us to get back to a more defensible position."

A chorus of affirmatives told Becker they all knew what they had to do. He crawled back to Rodney and called for the support to be brought down where he wanted it.

When he heard the first roars of the Marauder engines, he cried out, "Fire all weapons, let loose on the alien bastards!"

Heavy roars, hissing, crackling, and explosions both great and small joined together in a symphony of death, concentrated across the front of the platoon's position.

Becker jumped up and waved back toward the dug holes. "Fall back! Back to the foxholes!"

The soldiers scrambled to their feet and began running, dragging along any comrades who couldn't walk. They once again jumped into the holes, the weapon gunners and loaders following them quickly.

The heat around the small patch of forest the platoon had claimed for its foxholes was amazing, and Becker sorely wanted to loosen his fatigues a little. Burning bushes, slagged soldiers, and continuously dropping shells and bombs made the area very hot.

But the Eldar seemed to be falling back, which was a very good thing for the platoon.

Becker leaned back and sighed. Getting out and back to the company would not be an easy prospect.

A voice came over the commlink, and after a brief moment Rodney handed it to Becker. He took the commlink. "Becker."

"Lieutenant, I must inform you of the current situation."

"How do you mean?"

"I'm afraid I am giving you some bad news. The Eldar have stopped harrying the rest of the company, which is in severely beaten up condition. They cannot reach your position because there is too much resistance."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying they aren't coming for you, Lieutenant. You're on your own. The rest of the company can't come for you, they're being recalled to base. You are beyond our help."

"So we're just being left out here, with no support?"

"Fire support will continue to aid you in whatever way you need it, but barring a miracle you are on your own getting out of there. I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but with the Eldar hitting us at Sarecci and Nepal, we can't risk losing an entire company."

"I... understand."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Out."

Becker handed the commlink back to Rodney, then screamed out, "Damn it!"

Suddenly, their chances of getting out alive took a serious blow.

END OF CHAPTER XIII
Continued in Chapter XIV: The Lost Platoon