I'd been busy hand-scanning the battlements of the burned-out fort, and almost blundered into the ambush with my whole troop. It would have been a reasonable mistake to make since we were easily half a mile from the front line, but we would have been no less dead. Luck.

 

The fort was brick and smoking timbers, with the back wall a crumbled mess that I'd just climbed over. Ahead of me was the wide open gate, offset to the left of center; to the right was the remains of a fallen walkway shoved up almost against the wall. I'd nearly missed it: the glint of reflected firelight off what I could swear was the white of someone's eye. Anyone showing that much white must be terrified, I thought, and then wondered why I wasn't.

 

There must be at least three or four of them, all armed, and here I was with just my holstered sidearm, hands filled with a brightly lit-up scanner, standing in the open gap and silhouetted in the flames -- the perfect target, and obviously an officer. (Troopers wear armor; officers wear little peaked caps. All things being equal I'd prefer armor, but never mind.) I tasted tin in the back of my throat. I cleared it and spoke.

 

"We're low on white cloth right now, and you couldn't see it in this light anyway. So let's just pretend I'm waving a white flag, shall we?" With my right hand I waved back my sergeant, who I had to hope saw me and would be quick enough to figure out what I was doing. I stepped forward, doing my best to exude confidence.

 

"Surely you're aware by now just how far behind the lines you are," I continued, keeping my voice low and level. "You've got nowhere to run, and if you stay here all it will take is one grenade. You're in a corner, and that brick wall reflects the force and concentrates any fragments that miss you the first time. It ain't pretty; I've seen it before." And survived it, but I didn't mention that.

 

"Put down your guns, step out, and surrender. I'll make sure you're well-treated, and I promise to exchange each of you the minute the battle's over. Can't ask for better than that, now can you?"

 

"And if we don't?" It was a young voice, maybe female, definitely terrified.

 

"If you don't, I guess you can shoot me -- the only man for half a mile in any direction that doesn't want you dead. It's your call."

 

A fierce argument broke out; I tried my best to look bored. I shifted the scanner to my left hand and scratched my jaw, then the back of my scalp. Finally I took off my cap and started tapping it impatiently on the side of my leg. I think that's what finally did it.

 

"All right; we're coming out."

 

Four figures emerged, one at a time, hands held high. They were filthy, covered in greasy black ash, but in the firelight I could tell they were only kids. If that's all they have left to send against us, we'll be done in a week, I thought. Out loud I said, "All right; that's the way. Smart move. Sergeant," I called, "Take the prisoners into custody. Find them a hot meal and a place to bed down."

 

Sergeant Griggs came forward at my call, huge in his armored suit yet surprisingly graceful. He stepped forward, casually interposing himself between me and the wall. The four kids came stumbling up toward us, and I smiled down at them and reached out a hand to help.

 

"NOOOO!" came a cry from behind the barricade, and automatic fire rang out. One of the kids hadn't surrendered after all, and was emptying his magazine at Griggs. The sergeant didn't even twitch, just raised his weapon and fired once, and it was over. The other four didn't even have time to react.

 

We took them into custody without further incident and established a communications watchpost on the battlements. They were armed with primitive explosive slugthrowers, almost completely useless against our power armor, but one had a plasma cannon that could have shredded a small tank.

My own wound was trifling, likely caused by a flying chip of rock. I tied it up after the prisoners were settled and returned to duty.

 

The foregoing was excerpted from Lt. Congino's after-action report dated L-Day+38. Congino has since received battlefield promotion and is eligible for a wound medal; Command is recommending him for the Combat Star with Oak Leaves for this action. Staff Sgt. Griggs is not being recommended for a decoration at this time.