John Ringo - Against the Tide

“What are you doing?” Rachel asked, desperately. “Stop it!” she yelled as, one by one, the wounded began to shriek, encased in balls of light. Then the shrieking changed tones to hoarse bellows and when the light was gone five orcs were sitting up in the beds, snarling at one another and shouting curses at the Changed elf. They cowered away from Conner when he glanced at them, though.

“I promised I wouldn’t kill them,” Conner said, maliciously. “Take her away.”

“Bloody hell,” General Magalong said, quietly, as the cohort closed ranks again to make it through the gate. “Get the ballistas ready, we’ve got to get them some room.”

New Destiny had taken the Fleet base and established a large fortified camp on the north end of the peninsula. Even with all their forces they couldn’t cut the peninsula entirely, but they could do so for all intents and they had. He had sent the cohort, one of three, out to probe the defenses. He was getting back less than two thirds.

Besides the orcs that made up the bulk of the New Destiny forces there were massive creatures scattered among them. Orcs could rarely break the shield-line of a well handled cohort but these things had simply smashed into the line, soaking up the sword and spear damage to open holes that the orcs poured into. Three times the cohort had nearly been broken before they retreated. The things weren’t particularly smart or fast but they were immensely large and powerful; he had seen one pick up a trooper in either hand, while their fellows hacked at its legs, and throw them through the air.

Another of the things made its way through the orcs, charging clumsily at the line of legionnaires. The general smiled faintly as the line didn’t even bend, just kept up its steady backward motion, the troopers facing the thing like battling automatons. There wasn’t any percentage in turning to flee, that would just open up a bigger hole for the orcs to attack.

This time, though, they were close enough for support and three ballistas fired at the thing. Two of them missed, one pinning a pair of orcs to the ground in the front lines and another falling deep. But the third hit it on the shoulder, spinning it around and off its feet, the shoulder nearly severed. Despite the enormous wound, the thing got back to its feet, but it never even made it to the legionnaire line, falling and crushing an orc as it finally bled out.

The legionnaires continued to shrink their formation, closing their gaps as they filed into the camp. As they closed with the walls, defenders began pitching pots of burning napalm at the orcs, slowing them up and keeping them from pressing on the legionnaires. More ballista bolts fell as well and bolts from some of the crossbowmen. Finally, a massed company threw their pilums and the last of the legionnaires marched stolidly through the gates, which closed behind them.

The New Destiny forces pressed forward as well but the rest of the legion was already manning the walls and the attack was repulsed with bloody losses, the legionnaires poking the orcs from above with their pilums and groups of them using them to pincushion the larger monsters. After about fifteen minutes of that horns rang from the far camp and the New Destiny forces retreated, leaving a windrow of their dead under the UFS lines to stink up the morning.

New Destiny was already starting siege operations against his lines as well. Attack trenches and parallels were going in, the earth being moved by more Changed and a few local humans who had been unlucky enough to be captured. The cohort’s primary mission had been an attack against those. One that had not been successful.

For that matter, he wondered at the preparations. New Destiny could simply swarm him. If they threw enough bodies. There had been ten thousand, at least, in the invasion fleet. More would be coming in through portals. They had to be worried about time and they couldn’t move until he was reduced. So why were they starting an elaborate siege?

“Send for Lieutenant Pedersen,” the general said. “I want his thoughts.”

Rachel stepped back from the casualty as she finished suturing the artery.

“He’s going to be in pain when he wakes up,” she said, lifting one eyelid with a blood-covered hand and checking the dilation of the pupil. “I’ll write out an order for morphine. No more and no less, understand?” she said to the orderly. The man nodded at her, frightened, and called for stretcher bearers to move the officer out.

Rachel had only been working on humans. The Changed were so numerous, and of so little relative worth or so it seemed, that only their human officers were given treatment for wounds. Changed either survived them or died.

Rachel turned on the spigot and ran her hands and forearms under the water. The one good thing about this camp was that New Destiny had installed running water in the hospital. On the other hand, it was cold and getting blood off with cold water was a pain.

She turned her head at a flicker in her peripheral vision, frowning at Conner who, as always, was followed by his monstrous elf-thing.

“Pity you couldn’t save the leg,” Conner said, glancing at the casualty.

“I said you weren’t going to get my best work if you pissed me off,” Rachel replied, coldly, turning her back and ignoring him. He wanted to see her suffer. He could kill her, he could rape her, but she was damned if he was going to see her sweat.

There was another flicker in her peripheral vision and a distinctive “swish-thunk.” She spun around and the Changed was just about done wiping his sword. The New Destiny officer’s head had not even had time to roll off the blood-spattered surgery table. It did, as she watched, and struck the ground with a sound like a broken melon.

“You SON OF A BITCH !” she screamed, picking up a scalpel and throwing it at him as hard as she could.

Conner leaned slightly to the side to let the wandering missile pass and smiled maliciously as the elf-thing caught it in midair and stepped forward.

“No, Roc,” Conner said, holding his hand up and laughing. “Let her get it out.”

“Do not waste my time !” Rachel snapped. “Do whatever you’re going to do to me. Torture me, rape me, kill me, whatever. But don’t waste my time!”

“But that,” Conner said, gesturing at the headless corpse. “That was a waste of your time. We have no need of crippled officers. One more mouth to feed.”

“You people are too much,” Rachel said, turning back to the sink and scrubbing her hands furiously. She grabbed a towel and gestured at him, half angrily and half in amazement. “You’re a fucking idiot , do you know that? Not just a fruitcake, that goes without saying, but an idiot !”

“Why am I an idiot?” Conner said, calmly, tilting his head to the side as if her opinion was of enormous interest to him.

“Do you know who Herzer Herrick is?” Rachel said, throwing the towel in a basket and taking off her apron for a new one.

“Oh, yes, paramour of yours, isn’t he?” Conner replied, smiling.

“No,” Rachel said. “Your oh-so-puissant intelligence is off on that score. But would you say he’s useless to the UFS?”

“No,” Conner replied. “Quite useful, actually.”

“And did you know he was missing a hand?” Rachel asked, gently.

“Yes,” Conner replied.

“IS HE ANY LESS USEFUL WITH ONE HAND?” Rachel shouted, throwing her hands up and then pointing at the corpse. “Do you know anything about that person?”

“Other than the fact that he has no head,” Conner said. “no.”

“So you don’t have any idea if he might have been of use to you,” Rachel said, throwing her hands up. “He might have been a whiz at logistics! A master of sorting out intelligence and finding that one clue that wins the battle! But you don’t know! And now, you never will! Because you cut his head off! A tisket, a tasket, a head in a basket! That is why you’re an idiot, not to mention a FRUITCAKE.”