"After the recent events in Ohio, it is clear that everyone at this academy, and the other war colleges of this country, will be graduating into what amounts to an everlasting state of war against a force that can and will strike and any time and place in any size of force of their choosing, and we can only currently respond. And we will respond. For we must. If we wish to live, for our families to live, we must.
"I am reminded of the words of Thomas Paine. 'These are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly: it is dearness only that gives every thing its value. Heaven knows how to put a proper price upon its goods; and it would be strange indeed if so celestial an article as freedom should not be highly rated.'
"We, the old guard, the generation of soldiers who fought our fellow man, now must entrust to you our combined futures. We call on you to be our future soldiers, to fight against the Antithesis, to rally forth, to secure our world's freedom. It will not be easy, for freedom is never cheap. But I know, looking on your faces now, that you will rise to this challenge.
"Starting with the next semester, all non-requisite courses and extra-curricular meetings are canceled. What would take four years we will aim to do in three, then two. We need you on the field. We need you now. Godspeed, cadets. Fix Bayonets. You face the gates of hell upon your graduation. Show them what a West Point graduate can do!"
--Brigadier General Mark Quander, Commandant of Cadets, United States Military Academy (AKA "West Point"), Speech to student body after Ohio Incursion and Bombing, 2022.
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Thursday, 12 January 2023. 0642/06:42am CST. ~ 28,000 ft./8534m Above Sea Level. US Army Lockheed Martin C-130J Super Hercules en route to Navel Air Station, Corpus Christi/Corpus Christi Army Depot (NAS/CCAD). ETA, 0705/07:05am CST. Sunrise, 0722/07:22am.
"Lieutenants!"
Lopez jerked his head around to try and see who was calling for him over the massively sized head-set protecting his ears from the 100+ decibel thrum of the Herc's engines.
"Ell-Tees!" Lopez finally spotted the loadmaster waving at him. "Captain on the horn. Says urgent! Channel two!" The loadmaster's voice crackled through, one hand on an airframe support and the other showing two fingers up to help convey his message. Lopez saw Lt. Akers giving a thumbs up as his other hand reached to select the channel setting for his handset, Lopez copying the thumbs up and looking down to try and find the damn control.
There it is. The control clicked over to "2" and the headset came alive again.
"-sti and set up a FOB before advancing to Alice. I'll need a shelter for refugees setup and ready to receive and begin evacuations ASAP as we begin the advance." Captain Miller paused in his line of thought long enough to allow his two remote LTs to report in.
"Lt. Akers, reporting."
"Lt. Lopez, reporting."
"Great, everyone is here. Situation has changed while we have been in the air. The expected change is that we have total loss of comms with Alice. The entire city has gone dark, and due to weather conditions even satellite shots are iffy at best. We have little to no intel at all on the current situation on the ground. The unexpected news is that we have some survivors who made it to Corpus."
Lopez raised an eyebrow in surprise, but otherwise kept a neutral face in front of a plane filled with his men. It was not expected to have survivors from a Xeno Attack travel all the way from Alice Texas to Corpus Christi. At the best of times, and a Xeno Attack was far from that, it was an hour drive, about 45 miles or so. Also, Corpus Christi was a coastal city. Once you got there, where would you go? Better to flee north, or west. Why east?
"Among the survivors are few of these 'Vanguards' we've been briefed on. Looks like they activated or what not in the attack on Alice and helped to protect the survivors as they fled east. Now they plan to assist us in retaking the city and/or defending the refugees. There is some grey area on that directive, when I asked, I was told to take it up with them." There was a bit of general laughter from the command team at the captains dry tone on the last line. Miller had long since shared his dim view of the usefulness of intel from anyone not "boots on the ground" or over the rank of Major save for a few exceptions. "The Ops Plan is out the window. New plan: 1st and 2nd platoons, raid the Depot for heavy man portable arms and munitions, half tons, brads, hum-vees, goddamn flamethrowers if you can find them. You have two hours after touchdown. Assemble on the parking lot by Hanger 57. We will roll out the south exit. 3rd platoon, grab any spare light arms, first aid, stretchers, MREs, and meet up with 1st and 2nd thirty minutes before dust-off. 4th platoon, grab tents, medical gear, medical trucks, anything you need for a refugee station. Also anything for a FOB. Same timeline. Assemble on the north side of same parking lot. You will take north gate out, head to the civilian airport. Shut down local civilian flights if its not done already. You own that field now. Set up to shelter people, build a FOB, get the civs ready to run an evac. And Lopez?"
Lopez winced internally, wishing he was commanding any platoon other than 4th. "Sir?"
"I need you to interface with the Vanguards. Figure out their intentions, then send them to the best platoon to host them. And let me remind you, gentlemen, per Presidential Directive they are outside of our chain of command, and neither of us are required to obey the other, but we are required to show them deference and respect. Am. I. Clear?"
A round of "Clear, SIR!"s went over the headset with Lopez's voice as he suddenly understood how the assignments had broken down the why they had. 1st and 2nd platoon leaders had been with Miller the longest, so he wanted them with him on the tip of the spear. Second Lieutenant Akers was new to the unit, and Miller wanted to either keep an eye one him or have him doing something productive that he also couldn't (hopefully) fuck up. Lopez was still newer than than the first two, but known enough and trusted enough to handle a tricky social situation more than Akers, while still not as well known in combat situations as his seniors.
"Alright, I am told the weather is getting worse, and they have concerns as the engagement goes on that we may encounter severe weather. The Xenos don't give a shit about weather. Neither does the United States Army! Hell, sounds like good training, if you ask me. After all, we are Born of War!" With the invocation of the old 6th Army motto that Miller preferred to the current US Army South Motto, the men on the radio gave a hearty cheer before being dismissed.
This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Akers and Lopez both called their squad leaders into private channels to brief them on their tasks prior to landing, and then Lopez turned his focus back to the map he had been studying. Now, instead of finding the best routes to Alice, he was looking for the best routes from the Navel Air Station, where the CCAD was co-located, through the local city and to the... his searching eyes finally found it. Corpus Christi International Airport.
Damn. North exit is a shitty way to get there. I'll have to see if I can get Miller to let follow him out to take the highway to the airport.
Sighing, Lopez began to mark up the map with notes just in case he had use the north gate. And, because he was a nitpicker, if he had to defend the city from an assault from the direction of Alice. Because no matter the amount of Ooh-rah from Miller, everyone here knew the truth: everyone one this plane was about to die, almost guaranteed. Ohio had shown them that. They just did not have enough time to adapt to the enemy to be able to repel an attack, especially one that has been in place for over 6 hours like this one.
If the Xenos didn't eat them, then a nuke or a thermo-baric bomb would rip them apart. That's just how it was. The best he could hope for was that he could delay it long enough to get more data out for the next guy, get survivors out who might live a full life, maybe save someone who would become a Vanguard and end this hell once and for all.
But for the men in this tube hurtling through the air with body numbing vibrations wracking them constantly, only death waited for them.
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Thursday, 12 January 2023. 0715/07:15am CST. Navel Air Station, Corpus Christi/Corpus Christi Army Depot (NAS/CCAD). Rally point outside Hanger 57. Sunrise, 0722/07:22am.
The early rays of sunlight failed to breach the dark cloud cover Captain Miller had warned them about, but it was able to push enough light through to give some dim light to seeming chaos unfolding around First Lieutenant Marcus Lopez. Once the sun rose in full the muted grays and blues would turn into true colors and shadowed faces betray worry and fear instead of hiding the emotion in shadows of the dawn.
Taking a brief moment to stretch out finally from the flight in, Lopez called in his squad leaders for a brief conference.
"Alright, I want all the rucks against the curb there. Post a watch on them from Walters' squad. We don't have time to carry them around with us. Walters, take the rest of your troops, get some transpo. A half ton and a hummer at least. Rucks in the half ton, along with the rest of the gear once we get it. Hummer for command staff. Eventually we will need more, but right now we need to get out to the international airport. Half ton will leave once Phillips crew loads it up. Go."
"Sir!" Walters gave a hurried salute and dashed towards his group of men.
"Phillips. Take Potemkin's squad with yours. Go get the list of materials we discussed for the FOB. Bring it back, load up the truck, and make for the airport. I should be there before you, but if I am not use my authority to take it over. Shut it down to air traffic as planned. Start building the FOB. After that, find every trooper who can drive a half ton, ambulance, hummer, anything, and I don't mean 'qualified', I mean 'can drive', hear me? Get every set of wheels you can beg steal or borrow out of this place and to the FOB. Go.
"Sir!" Another salute and Phillips likewise dashed off.
"Potemkin. Walk with me." At that Lopez turned walked to a corner of the parking lot away from the rest of his men, Staff Sergeant Eliza Potemkin following in a seeming hurry due to her shorter stature and legs causing her to have to walk faster to keep up. Once they were a good distance away from being overheard Lopez stopped.
"Sergeant, I'm going to dealing with a few of these new Vanguard people. Word is that they can be a bit... eccentric. Peculiar. And the unit may react with some..."
"Undisciplined comments, sir?" Potemkin offered.
"Quite. Especially as I got this from the Captain just before we landed." Lopez unlocked his cell phone handed it over, the screen on a gallery of images in an e-mail attachment showing a brief profile hastily assembled on the Vanguards. Potemkin furrowed her brow and started to skim, swiping the images quickly, before a sudden blush hit her face. Otherwise immutable, she powered through and finished the short dossier.
"I... See. Sir." She cleared her throat, handing the phone back. "I appreciate the heads up. For the unit. I'll make sure to keep them in line and that anything that would offend the Vanguards gets steppe-" She blushed again, coughed, "ah, dealt with."
"Potemkin. I'm not targeting you." Lopez sighed internally. He had been worried about this, which was why he pulled her aside. "I don't care what team you play for, so long as you can keep focus on the job. I trust that you can keep that focus. I don't trust that the rest of the unit can at first, and I need you as the senior enlisted, and frankly, as a bit of the 'platoon mom' to keep them in line. That is all this conversation is. Understood?"
The Staff Sergeant stopped herself from responding automatically and took a deep breath. Even now it was still sensitive issue being anything other than heterosexual in the military, and she had done her best to simply not disclose anything. But a chance encounter when a certain young lieutenant had to take custody and testimony of some soldiers who started a fight, that she was not a part of but did witness, in a local BDSM establishment...
It never came up again, and so far as she could tell it never made it on any record. She was never even called to give testimony. She almost thought he had forgotten until now.
"Understood, sir. And... Thank you, sir."
"Honestly, thank you, Potemkin. You are going to probably keep me sane over the next few hours." Lopez sighed and suddenly all the weight of the last 12 hours seemed to sink into him at once. "Hell, for all I know they may want the attention. I dunno." He took a moment to compose himself again. "Right, anyway. Lets see if we have a hummer yet. You and I are going to go meet the Vanguards."
Potemkin nodded before a sly smile crept over her face. Her next words were in a strange, high pitched voice. "Roight, but, what'll we do after that, Lieutenant Brain?"
With a deadpan expression Lopez fired right back a low a gravelly voice "The same thing we do every night, Staff Sergeant Pinky... Try to take over the airport!"
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Lopez did not care for the premise that the enlisted should drive the officers. Maybe it was a control thing, but he liked driving. Granted, a military Hum-Vee was not the most comfortable ride ever, but it was one with a certain amount of authority on civilian roads. It was fun to drive when civilians were actively wanting to get of your way.
Lopez had conferred with the Captain after receiving more info on the Vanguards, namely their current location, and then Potemkin tried to take the drivers seat until Lopez made it clear in no uncertain terms that he wanted to drive. "Move over, Miss Daisy, this wheel is mine!"
As he pulled out the south gate and onto highway 358 Potemkin spoke up. "Begging your pardon, sir, but you are being rather more... informal, uh, this morning. If I may ask..."
"Why?" Lopez gave a half-grunt half-laugh. "Sergeant, let me ask you this. How formal do you think the Spartans were at Thermopylae?"
She remained quiet as they passed over Oso Bay, the wide bridge seeming to engulf her thoughts as well as the gulf.
"In front of the public, the Captain, the unit, yes, formality matters. But at some point, when it is just you me, the other sergeants..." His voice trailed off as road hit land again. "Take joy and happiness in the small moments, with the people around you. You may not get another chance to. I'd far rather be informal with you in private and be able to have a laugh and a joke then to be proper not enjoy what makes being human worthwhile." He left unspoken the only difference between the current circumstances and the usual. Before we die.
Pulling off the highway and crossing under, he was soon turning into the parking lot of the Corpus Christi Medical Center Bay Area. Locating the first of the Vanguard wasn't hard at all. The man rather stood out at something around six and a half feet tall, who knows how many pounds, but all of it was muscle. It almost looked like an 80's era weightlifting champion in shorts, boots, and nothing else, and carrying what had to be something akin to a 30MM autocannon off of an A-10. Add sunglasses and an orange tank-top and you would have a walking copyright infringement.
"Well, I guess we could get him up in the gunner position." Lopez gestured to the 50. caliber mount that was currently closed up.
"Yeah." Potemkin screwed her face up. "But what if he's had too much protein powder recently? Think we can air the cab out fast enough?"
The pair laughed quietly as Lopez searched for a place to park.
"Oh, fuck me..." The small Staff Sergeants outburst had Lopez checking for threats before he saw what she did. Her next words certainly matched his thoughts.
"Helloooooooo, Nurse!"