Tales From the UPP Front - CASEVAC (3)

[Desolane900]

Author's note: This is Chapter 3 of the series, which I've started to consider either moving to another place or compressing into one giant glob. Considering how awful the formatting on this forum is, utterly not ready for an actual novel style post, I might move it over to Google Docs or Wattpad. Anywhore, have a good read.

Saul was still staring at the corpse of the other Colonial Marine floating in the bog as something shoved his shoulder from the left. He blinked slowly and tore his eyes away from the corpse, looking over into the eyes of Corporal Vlasis, who was glaring at him with one hand on her hip, a mere few inches from the murky water. The other hand was holding a wet M41A in his face.
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"Come on, douchebag. We don't have all day. Grab what you can and let's move." She bit off the words in harsh annoyance, ignoring the firefight still happening a few feet away in the clearing as she adjusted her own Pulse Rifle strapped to her back.
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"R..Right." The shorter man numbly grabbed his rifle from her hand and took a deep breath, slogging through the waist high water and bending over to take what gear he could scavenge from the floating Marine. Saul checked his belt, taking the single magazine from a pouch, then moved on to his pockets. If I find a picture of his family in here I swear to God..
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He did his best not to look at the Marine's face, knowing well enough what kind of sleep he'd be getting if he did. The corpse's pockets contained sopping wet lint and a hardcase of Lucky Strike cigarettes, lighter included. How fucking ironic, Saul thought, you should be smoking Unlucky Strikes.. He let out a short exhale of bemusement before Vlasis' voice caught his attention.
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"Just stay awake and we'll come get you when this shitfest is over." She was busy talking to Bowden, the chubby guy that took a round to the leg not ten minutes ago. Saul stood up straight and stuck a smoke between his lips, lighting up and pocketing the hardcase. He held his rifle with both hands, checking the red ammo counter on the side. It glared 17 back at him. He dropped the magazine into the bloody water and slapped a fresh one in, the ammo counter resetting to 95 and causing him to nod with satisfaction, exhaling a small cloud of smoke.
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"First you have those dopey glasses shining, now you're smoking. You might as well just scream where our position is." Bowden was glaring at him. It was a look Saul had gotten used to in his life.
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"Yeah but you're the one with a hole in you, fatass." He retorted, his eyebrows furrowed above his mirror black aviators. He'd be damned if he was going to take shit from some snot nosed little-
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"Smoke break's over anyway. Our guys are still getting shot at and we have a job to do." Vlasis said, wading through the water past him towards the sound of MAR fire on the other side of the clearing. "Move it, Private. The Corps ain't paying us by the hour."
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Saul gave Bowden one last dirty look before shoving his way after her, making sure to watch his footing as he took one last drag of his smoke and spat it out into the bog. I should have been a doctor..


The duo drew close to where the MAR gunfire originated from and Saul could hear the UPP troops spitting cursewords in their Pseudo-Communist language. He was starting to hate them. The enemy. He wouldn't be here on this shit hole rock in the middle of a swamp getting shot at if it wasn't for them. He could be back on Gateway, or even on Earth scoring some narcotics. Instead he was here. Soaked in dirt water, probably getting rot foot or some shit, getting shot at by morons from a dead era in ancient history. Yeah, he was definitely starting to hate them.
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"Keep it tight and control your fire." Vlasis whispered at him, nodding towards the brown vested Russians up ahead. He sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow before getting into a crouch and leaning against a tree for support. He watched the enemy a few yards ahead, getting peppered with 10mm from the other side of the massive clearing, most if not all of the shots missing and hitting trees, the ground, or simply going off into the distance behind them.
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"Ready." He murmured, aiming at the closest UPP grunt he could see. The Corporal moved into position in the corner of his eye and raised an open hand. He stared at it, glancing at the soldiers ahead. She closed her hand dramatically and he opened fire, spraying two of the men in the side and grinning as they fell. Vlasis opened fire a second later and they both dropped atleast a dozen Russians before the rest scattered, some rushing into the clearing only to get cut down as they left cover and a few men diving behind the stalky roots of the swamp trees. Their pulse rifles laughed as they spit hot death towards the enemy and as soon as it had started, it was over.
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Vlasis and Freytia sweeped their rifles where they looked, staying still and watching for movement or the telltale leather vest of a UPP hiding amongst the floating corpses or blood spattered trees. The only thing left was the cackling of distant pulse rifles and the sound of wood snapping as trees took bullets. Atleast twenty men floated or laid before them, the dirty water turning a sickly mix of brown and dark red within seconds.
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"So how do we stop our own guys from killing us?" He turned and looked at the Corporal, ducking a bit in reflex as a small tree exploded into pulp nearby.
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"We need a commtech to relay topside. Let's go." She ignored his question and started walking, going back the way they came. Saul followed her, looking around for more UPP as he went. Vlasis was less concerned, simply moving back in a beeline for Bowden's position. The gunfire to their left seemed to be dying down a bit as the Marines started to realize they weren't being shot at anymore.


They had reached Bowden in no time, Vlasis helping him stand and holding one of his arms across her shoulders. Saul lit up another cigarette and stepped into the clearing, grimacing at the sudden sunlight and watching Colonial Marines charge out onto the field to help their comrades or collect gear and bodies. He glanced back at the dead soldier behind him and sighed, sitting on the edge of a small crater. The Corporal was hauling Bowden out into the field and yelling at a group of incoming men about a commtech. Something about CASEVAC and ambushes. Saul didn't care. He did his part and just wanted a cigarette. Even some opium would go fine. I could probably threaten a corpsmen into.. Well, better not.. he thought, watching the other men and women around him.
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A few minutes had passed and Vlasis was walking over to him, a few Cheyennes landing in the big clearing with isolated gunshots coming from the UPP side every now and then as the Marines found a surviving member of the enemy army. Either injured or just hiding, they were being put down like the dogs they were.
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"Got a spare cigarette?" The woman sat next to him, taking off her helmet and looking at him expectantly.
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"Not for you." He replied, sighing out a cloud of smoke as he imagined how bad his hair looked at the moment. After a few seconds he got out the hardpack and held it out for her, Vlasis taking it and sparking her own smoke.
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"Apparently there's some hotshot Lieutenant asking for people to go patrol the area and find more Ruskies." She said, handing the hardcase back to him and grinning through the dirt on her face. "I just wanted to let you know you volunteered."
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He tensed and stood up, glaring at her. "You didn't. No way you fucking-"
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"I did. And he's expecting you three minutes ago. Might wanna hurry." She laughed as he stormed off in the direction of the uniformed man, easily visible because of his dry BDU and clean skin. "Think of it as payback for the messhall incident!" She shouted after him, still smiling as she watched the wounded being carried onto the Cheyenne dropships.

[Martzin]

These old stories are really enjoyable. This series is a dusty gem from the old days. The fact this never got a reply before irked me, but here it is, so thanks for the stories.

[Lukey111]

Rxactly, good story, couldn't do half.