Starfist: Kingdom's Fury by David Sherman & Dan Cragg Page A

you to take them out and teach them how to kill Skinks." Jab. "And the last I heard," jab, "what the brigadier wants," jab, "the brigadier gets!"
    "All right, all right!" Claypoole sputtered, backing away from Linsman's finger.
    "But why us?"
    "It's not just us," Linsman shouted, becoming frustrated. "It's both FISTs. Every fire team and gun team in both FISTs is taking command of a platoon of local yokels and taking them out to find, fix, and fuck the Skinks! Do you understand me?" He leaned forward so his face almost touched Claypoole's.
    Claypoole wished he were wearing his helmet. If he were, he'd slide the chameleon shield into place and move away from his squad leader. But he wasn't so he had to stand there and take it.
    Staff Sergeant Hyakowa came by before Claypoole could voice any more objections.
    "Listen up, people," Hyakowa said. All the Marines of second squad, third platoon, turned their attention to their platoon sergeant. "As of yesterday, everyone in this platoon has gone up against the Skinks at least once—and beat them. Most Marines in this platoon have gone up against them several times—and beaten them.
    About half of you met them on Waygone. We beat them there too." He paused and looked each of them in the eye. "They've never beaten us. They gave us a hell of an ass-kicking once, but we came out on top that time too." He neglected to mention that if 34th FIST's Air hadn't come up with a defensive tactic that saved them from the Skinks' buzz saws, that fight might have ended differently. Nor did he mention the ambush that killed Gunnery Sergeant Bass and the men with him.
    "The Kingdomites don't have that advantage," he went on. "They've lost too many battles and too many lives when they've gone up against the Skinks. There aren't enough of us to win this war. We have to show the Army of the Lord that the Skinks can be beaten. And we, third platoon, Company L, 34th FIST, are the best people to show them that. Because we've done it more often than anybody else. Most of you also have experience leading Kingdomite troops. Many of you have led other indigenous troops. Those of you who don't have the experience, Lieutenant Rokmonov and I will help your squad leaders and fire team leaders teach you.
    "I expect this platoon to take that battalion—" He paused to remember what it was called, shook his head when he did. "—the Lancelot Guardians of the Faith, and turn them into the best Skink-killing battalion in the entire army. They'll be joining us within two hours. We begin operations as soon as we integrate with them." With,
    "Sergeant Linsman, carry on," he left to visit the gun squad.
    Linsman watched Hyakowa walk away. When the platoon sergeant was far enough away, he turned back to his squad. "You heard the man," he said to all of them, though he looked at Claypoole. "We will do this thing."
    Claypoole silently hung his head.
    Corporal Claypoole was furious. Just the two of them to take that platoon out and get it killed. Claypoole knew he was a good Marine, a good infantryman. He knew he had leadership abilities and that he'd demonstrated them in the past. He also knew that Wolfman, Lance Corporal MacIlargie, was a good Marine infantryman. Give the two of them a platoon of well-trained, well-armed, indigenous troops with high morale, and he knew he and Wolfman would acquit themselves well and kick ass on any similar-size unit they ran up against. But these Kingdomites had been hurt so badly by the Skinks, they were afraid of them. Not the individual fear of personally being killed—all soldiers faced that fear—but the fear of knowing they were going to lose any fight they got into. When troops have that fear, they're going to get killed. It just wasn't fair to make him and Wolfman, just the two of them, take the platoon out and get those soldiers killed. Not counting the fact that he and Wolfman were going to get killed too!
    Sure, they were going to get killed. This terrain was exactly the kind