Var charged towards the four-story building with a squad of five other men, having separated from the larger platoon at So-Dal Urtrim’s instruction. They were to stage a diversionary attack on the upper stories of the structure, already much abused by rocket and plasma-rifle fire. During their diversion, another squad led by Urtrim would gain entry to the building and clear the structure of defenders floor by floor.

Their platoon and others had taken significant casualties from the automated phaser emplacements and mortar fire before they’d been able to knock those damnable robotic devices offline. Their drop ship air-cover had strafed the hilltop and thankfully silenced the mortar.

Var skirted a smoking crater before taking cover behind a smoldering ground car tipped onto its side. From his vantage, he could see up into the defender’s firing positions in the mangled third and forth stories of one of the few buildings in the commercial center not engulfed in flames.

The occasional phaser beam lashed out from up there, targeted towards the Cardassian troop formations still advancing farther behind his platoon. Those above were apparently unaware the enemy had already closed with them.

Arvik dropped to a knee at the back of the upturned vehicle, calling softly to him. “We don’t have an angle for a direct shot. Grenades?”

Grabbing a grenade from his torso carryall, Var nodded soberly to his comrade. He primed it and waited for the digital timer to count down to three before lobbing it overhand though an already shattered third story window.

A bright flash and accompanying *whump* belched debris from the opening. Shouts and an injured shriek issued forth as Var and Arvik raised their pulse rifles for the expected reaction.

A silhouetted figure looked out the window and fired a broad swath of phaser energy down at the base of the building, causing the plants and grass there to wither and smoke. It was a futile gesture, as the attackers were sheltered behind cover a dozen meters further out.

Var and Arvik opened fire in tandem, riddling the figure and the surrounding window frame with scores of plasma bolts.

There was a gasp from the figure before it collapsed forward and pitched out the window to hit the ground with an audible thud. Var peeked out around the car to see a female Human laying crumpled there, curlicues of smoke rising from multiple impacts.

Three others from Var’s detachment, having found cover of their own, now began peppering the third and fourth stories with fire.

Only a few more phaser blasts came from the fourth story as follow on platoons began adding their fire to the increasing storm of Cardassian ire that gnawed away at what remained of the building’s upper façade.

Var then heard more plasma weapons chattering from within the building. He motioned for his squad to cease fire as he used his comm-link to spread the word to units farther back. Intermittent flashes issued from within the structure, followed by yells and the occasional scream. After a few tense moments of waiting, a green flare was tossed out from what remained of a fourth story window. Their comms sounded with Urtrim’s voice, “Cease fire, we’ve secured the building!”

The platoon rallied on the ground floor of the building, Urtrim’s entry group supporting a wounded man between them who’d clearly been shot by a weapon set to something higher than the stun setting. Their medic attended to his wound as Urtrim briefed them.

“Good work,” the So-Dal assessed gruffly. “There were more than fifteen defenders here, and we overcame them with only one man wounded. Most of their weapons are set to incapacitate, not to kill. Many of those we lost on the approach to these buildings are already being revived.”

Arvik goggled, clearly perplexed. “Why would they do such a thing, So-Dal?”

“As I said,” Urtrim replied, “they are soft. They actually believe displaying mercy on the battlefield is a virtue.” He pointed up, gesturing to the battle just fought on the floors above. “Not a single one of them still breathes. None of them shall threaten Cardassia ever again.”

Urtrim checked his digital-slate, receiving a download from his tactical interlink. “We’ve cleared out this commercial district. From here we’ll assault towards the colony proper. There are a number of additional defensive lines that we’ll have to overcome or skirt around, depending on the situation on-scene. Change out your magazines and replenish any expended ordinance from our supply sled. Be ready to move again in five.”

The So-Dal motioned for Var to join him. “You did well with you mission,” Urtrim noted. “You and your squad accomplished the task without taking foolish chances. Durata was struck by enemy fire on our approach, and I don’t know when or if he’ll be rejoining us. You will now take his place as squad leader until you’re killed, wounded, or until you fail me. Questions?”

“None, So-Dal,” Var answered.

Sandhurst sat up, causing a layer of displaced soil to spill down from where it had covered him. He shook his head and glanced around to see nothing moving in the darkness. It occurred to him that they needed to get off this hilltop immediately. What if the next strike on us is an orbital bombardment?

He withdrew his palm-beacon and switched it on, calling out, “Who’s still here?”

There was a cough and groaning from somewhere nearby, and Sandhurst moved towards the sound, scanning the beacon back and forth. “Who’s there?”

Cadet Trioni Waller lay with her upper back against an outcropping of rock. Her head lolled and she was making a low, moaning sound. Sandhurst crouched down next to her and practically recoiled as he realized that her right arm was missing just above the elbow. The pool of blood next to her caused him to freeze as his mind blanked, wiped clean of all his first-aid training. He closed his eyes and forced himself to breath calmly, and then remembered his med-kit contained a tourniquet. Sandhurst reflexively reached for his med-kit, only to find it missing.

Sandhurst scrabbled back to where he’d fallen, panning the light around attempting to locate the med-kit. He couldn’t see it anywhere, making him question how far the explosions had thrown him. He dug frantically through the dirt where he’d lain, but again found nothing. Sandhurst realized that he could not leave Waller to bleed out, and that he’d have to fashion a tourniquet from something else.

He sprinted back to where she leaned against the rock and moved to tear away part of his pant leg, only to find the durable material to be far stronger than he anticipated. He had no knife to cut away the material and continued to struggle with it in vain.

It dawned on him slowly that Waller was no longer moaning or moving. He reached out to feel for a pulse at her neck, finding nothing that he could detect. Only then did he spot Waller’s own med-kit affixed to the waist of her uniform jumpsuit. He grabbed the kit, pulled it open and fumbled with the tourniquet, finally managing to apply it correctly to the stump of her right arm. He then placed the small adhesive bio-monitor strip to her forehead with trembling hands, leaving a smear of her blood across her face. The monitor immediately issued a soft, trilling alarm, indicating no cardiovascular activity detected.

Sandhurst moved to pull Waller away from the rock and began performing chest compressions. He lost track of time, focused only on his ragged breathing, the sweat pouring down his back, his aching, weakening arms… until a firm hand on his shoulder gave him pause.

Votor, the Vulcan cadet, observed, “She is dead.” He spoke again over the continuing trill of the bio-monitor, "There are others here who require our assistance, and then we must leave this place.”

Sandhurst struggled against Votor’s superior strength only briefly, reluctant to leave Waller alone. Wasn’t he supposed to close her eyes, or bury her or something?

Votor led him to where Lar’ragos lay as the man began to slowly pull himself into a sitting position. He gasped, trying to catch his breath as he finally appeared to see his fellow cadets kneeling next to him. “Ju—just got the… wind… knocked out.”

As soon as he’d ascertained that Lar’ragos required no medical intervention, Votor turned to search for others as Sandhurst remained, looking distractedly back towards where Waller lay in the darkness somewhere behind him.

“Who?” Lar’ragos said, followed by a fit of coughing.

“Trioni,” Sandhurst murmured. “Cadet Waller,” he announced with more volume.

“Sorry,” Lar’ragos offered, then hissed in pain as he rolled onto his hands and knees. “Yep, yep, that’s definitely broken ribs.”

The sound of weapons fire from somewhere down below the hill wafted up to them. Lar’ragos took in a sharp breath and stood with Sandhurst’s help. He reached down and confirmed his phaser pistol was still holstered in his thigh rig. “Okay, let’s get down there and get back in the fight,” he said, his voice carrying more bravado than he felt.

Sandhurst helped him limp towards where more palm-beacons were flashing, panning around in the darkness. “Shut those off! You want to attract another run by those drop ships?” Lar’ragos demanded.

The lights were extinguished and in the weak illumination of the twin crescent moons the two of them made out Votor and Cadet Maurice Rennenger. Rennenger was cradling his left arm in his right, a makeshift sling fashioned from Votor’s uniform sleeve supporting his injured arm.

“This is everyone,” Votor advised them. "The others are deceased and I am unable to locate Chief Schäfer. He was either blown from the crest of the hill or otherwise vaporized.” The Vulcan held up the binoculars Schäfer had been using. They were battered but still usable. “Cardassian forces are securing the commercial center below. I would advise another destination.”

“Okay,” Lar’ragos told the group. “Everybody find a phaser. We’ll descend the back side of the hill, away from the buildings. We’ll make our way back to the main colony.”

With that, they began their slow, awkward, and painful descent back into the ongoing battle.

                                                         * * *