Maxine Inoza's Vacation

Maxine Inoza hated drops. This lieutenant, and what was left of her platoon, was dropping onto Enoch’s 9th. 

She hated these four-man capsules, most of all. The Corps had already phased these out in favor of the much more reliable single-man units. Sadly, the Widow’s Peak, this derelict ship transporting them, only had these shitty four-man pieces of crap.

The ship wouldn’t even be in standard orbit when dropping them. It would be doing a ‘run and gun’ drop. The Widow’s Peak would only be slowing down as much as it had to. It was in a hurry, she was told. 

It was on a course set to drop these marines at their target location. Once in position, it would essentially shoot the four-man capsule at the planet. If there ever had been any excitement about being the bullet shot out of a gun, for Inoza, that was long over. 

Her body did have a gut clenching visceral response to the impact of being shot. It was what followed that made her less than thrilled about getting dropped. There were three sudden, jarring slow downs as each of the ‘stop’ parachutes were deployed then released. 

The thunderous boom she just heard was when the fun really started. It was when the capsule’s brake jets kicked in. Her body wanted to keep going even though the capsule wanted to stop.

She knew that the restraints were enough to keep her safe, but that gave her little comfort. There never seemed to be enough cushion and her shoulders always hurt. 

If anything ever made her question the UE Marine Corps as a career choice, drops would be at the top of the list.

Inside the capsule, each of the marines faced outward. When it landed, the capsule barrier in front of each blew away and they were then released and conditioned to move forward. She did a quick inventory on pain and determined she was good to go, for now.

“Status,” she demanded. Each marine heard their lieutenant in their helmet. “Check,” came Sergeant Laki’s response. Her other two men, both privates, Gunnar and Timble, also responded.

She had briefed her men prior to the drop. The terraforming had progressed enough to where they could breathe on the surface. They’d be landing at night. They’d get ambient light from moons and stars, so it wouldn’t be complete darkness. She would lead, then Laki then Timble then Gunnar. 

This was not the team she would have wanted to send here, much less bring. Officers had to do as the Corps dictated, they never got a say.

After their hard landing, she led her marines north and east. There seemed to be nothing but a few boulders to offer cover on this small planet. She led them to what cover she could. She then held up a hand that became a fist, signaling to her men that they needed to crouch and hold.

It was here that she brought up her assignment map. It was integrated into the vision screen in her helmet. It was imposed over the terrain. She could see that they were not far from their objective—three clicks north. The road leading upwards, snaked its way up the bluff in front of them. She picked the target destination then sent this map to her sergeant’s helmet. She signaled him to lead. 

When her Corps captain had told her she’d be having to recon this little rock of a planet, he was acting like it wouldn't be no big deal. He was jokingly telling her that it would be like shore leave on the beaches of Kal Maru. She wasn’t buying it. If everything were to go their way, she might get a chance to catch up on sleep. 

This outpost hadn’t responded to communications for two months. The Navy higher ups didn’t know if the communicator was just broken. They didn’t know if this was something they needed to worry about. Her squad got sent to find out.

As per standard marine practice, she did have what she needed to send her command structure a message then have them acknowledge. That clumsy contraption was an absolute pain to use. She wasn’t looking forward to it if it became necessary. 

This meant that if the transmitter at this outpost couldn’t get easily fixed, her squad couldn’t establish communications. She was really hoping they could. The Widow’s Peak wasn’t scheduled to return for 10 days.

As her squad continued their approach, she started getting more uneasy. There were no lights. This science station had no need for concealment. Most of these places tended to keep things lit. They had proximity sensors so that as the outpost got approached, the lights would come on. This kept wildlife away. Sometimes.

The lights not coming on told her there was more than just a bad communicator at play.

She comm’d her sergeant. “Tell us to hold.”

Laki held up a hand and then turned it into a fist. All stopped and crouched.

“No lights,” she said to her men. “Stay frosty.”

Her marines didn’t need to know everything. All she told them when she briefed was that they were going to investigate. No one knew why the outpost didn’t respond. She let them assume the worst. Them being scared, she figured, would make them careful. 

“Sergeant,” she said, “get us up there.”

Laki resumed their progression up the slope. As he led, she looked behind to see her men. Gunnar, at the rear, was being a textbook marine, which surprised her. He was usually anything but. 

Timble, however, gave her chills. He was behaving like a tourist. This was his first drop, he had just finished basic. This made her wish—more than ever—that she had her full platoon. 

The Widow’s Peak was supposed to be the ship that brought her back to full strength, instead, it took away four of her marines. She got a notification from command just before the ship arrived.

“There has been a change.” 

This message from command made her heart sink. Personnel changes aside, this was when she learned that she'd be bringing all she had left to this outpost.

As they approached the crest, the sergeant signaled for them all to crouch and hold. 

“We’re here,” he said. “The entry bubble is just over this crest.”

“Hold here. Gunnar, Timble, flank to each side and hold. I’m going in.”

It had been standard marine practice to have the leader of the party send in his second, for lots of official and important reasons. She didn’t care about them right now. She just knew that if anything happened to her, the sergeant would get them home.

As she reached the crest, she moved around to what cover she could find. She then paused and used what they call the ‘sharp focus field’ in her helmet. She had always thought of the SFF as her telescope. 

None of the available vision enhancers would let her see anything, it was just too dark. The lights being out still bugged her.

She started again to move forward. There was no cover at all on this summit. The clearing was about 100 meters across. She would just need to approach the bubble carefully.  

As she was approaching this entrance, Inoza was pretty sure that the bubble wouldn’t respond in its normal manner—asking her for credentials then letting her in. These places did have an access point they could use, but that would take a lot of work for her marines. The manual process for opening these places up was extremely laborious. 

Not only did the Widow’s Peak take away marines instead of bringing more, but the one she would have liked for them to take is still with her, Forrest Gunnar. This private had been trouble since he arrived. 

He took a service rotation rather than going to prison. His crimes were theft. He had hacked his way into enough accounts it earned him prison time. Since he’d arrived, he has been trying to get away with anything he could. He was trouble incarnate.

Lieutenant Maxine Inoza had to keep him.

Maybe she’ll have Gunnar put in all the work needed to open this lab and let Timble go sightseeing. 

She got to the front of the bubble and was not shocked that it didn’t ask for her credentials. As she started to walk around to the right, she suddenly stopped, crouched and drew up her rifle. She aimed at a hole that shouldn’t be there.

The back window was broken. This bubble had windows on all sides, six of them. They were large, about four feet across. These windows then started about 18 inches off the ground to go up another six feet. This one had a good size hole in the incredibly thick glass—six inches. The hole was about a foot or so across and three feet in height. There was broken glass on the ground outside. 

“Tango. Charlie.” This told her men to flank around and approach. It also told them to be careful. And ready.

The glass on the ground made it seem that whatever it was that broke the window was trying to get out. It also suggested that miracles—of an odd sort—do happen.

There was nothing that was supposed to be able to break that window. 

Years ago, back in high school, she had been on a field trip to a plant that made this type of glass. She remembered them boasting about how these windows were so strong the material that held them would break before the glass would. The machines they used to shape and cut the windows to size were enormous. 

What broke that window? Was it now outside?

Her men each let her know they had reached their position. They circled around the entrance. She had her sergeant put Gunnar and Timble watching their outer flanks so she could examine the hole. Sergeant Laki joined her.

“What do you think it was that got out?” Sergeant Laki asked. 

“Well, we don’t know that anything, did get out.” She examined the breaks on the glass in what was left of the window.

She saw a black, charred substance on one side of the broken pieces. 

Her sergeant started looking at the ground, further out. “I think something did get out. Look at this.” 

She approached his position then saw what he saw, a footprint.  

“Well, if a foot made this mark, it wasn’t human,” she said. The print was much larger, longer, than a human foot. It had two large indentations towards one end, like big toes. 

“Keep Timble at our southern outer flank. You and Gunnar need to follow these tracks.” She turned her focus back to the hole in the window. “See where they lead.”

From what she could tell, from the broken window pieces, the substance was coated onto the glass from the inside. Then something must have gotten really hot, some direct source of heat, to cause the charring. 

What caused the break?

“Status,” she said into the comm system. “Check,” responded Timble. Her sergeant and Gunnar also responded. 

Sergeant Laki then told her more. “The tracks only went out a click. From what we can tell, they seemed to circle back. To the bubble.” 

Hearing that, she started focusing at the ground again. If they did go back inside, it didn’t look like they took anything in with them, at least not by dragging. If they did take something in, they carried it.

“Lieutenant Inoza,” he said, “you’re going to want to see this.”

“See what?”

“There are three units out here, where the tracks turn back. They’re about the size of the bubble. One’s been entered.”

“Stay there and mark your location. Secure yourselves, I’m coming to you.”

Laki sent her map his position. She then started toward them, wondering what she’d find. 

Minutes later when she arrived, she saw Laki and Gunnar looking at one of those units, the one closest to the entry bubble.

“This is the one you want to see,” said Laki. “This door got broken.”

“Anything missing?”

“Maybe. This place is a mess. Seems to have been ransacked.” 

“How about the other units? Those doors broken too?”

“Doesn't look like they were touched. Doors look ok.”

As she examined the ransacked unit, she could tell that this door would never close again. It had been ripped open. The walls in the unit were marked, as if what had been stored here had been written on the wall. She called Gunnar over.

“Look at the walls. Look at the markings. Stack up what you find in front of each.” The other units weren’t even touched. “I need to know what’s in here.”

Whatever it was that they broke in to get, they got.

Great. So much for this being a vacation.