Nano Bytes - A Collection of Short SciFi Stories

Shore Leave, by J B Durbin

Inhuman screams filled the air as the charging enemy melted under the blast from the plasma rifle.

"Another twenty of those bastards are dead!" Chase Mooseman yelled with glee as he checked the charge on his weapon. "I'm gonna need some power soon. This rifle won't make a very good club."

Roger, delta seven. Replacement cells were dropped fifty yards to your south ten seconds ago. Continue to attack and pick them up as you pass by.

Weaving the weapon around, searching for targets, Chase moved forward. He shot another group of green skins trying to hit his unit from the flank.

"Max, move up to cover my advance. Watch out for any of those flying lizards." Hearing a click acknowledging the message was received, Chase ran toward the cache of power cells.

His wingman, Matt Max, fired individual rounds into the visible enemy soldiers. "More greenies for me. One shot – one kill." He grinned as he knocked off two lizards trying to take down his partner. "I got your back, Chase."

Running into laser fire, Chase shrugged off the hits. His body armor deflected the laser through the series of tiny mirrors sewn into the vest. Unharmed, he reached the pile of power cells, replacing the nearly empty one just as another group of green skins attacked.

"Die, you slimy bastards." More of the enemy went down. Hands slick with sweat, his pulse pounding in his ears, Chase ran forward to the next position. "Move, Max. I got you covered."

"Watch your topside."

Flopping onto his back, Chase fired blindly into the air, using the last of the power cell but scorching the flying dragon's left wing. It spiraled down, hitting the ground with a thud. It flopped toward Chase on one wing.

Trying to reload, Chase knew he wouldn't be fast enough. He closed his eyes, waiting for the saw-toothed jaws to crush his body.

Max put two rounds through its head.

"Thanks, buddy." Chase felt the familiar rush of adrenaline. "We need to keep moving. Only a few more klicks to the target."

His ears rang with the voice of command central. Stop in place. Fire only if fired upon.

"What the hell?" The muzzle of the blaster waved around as if seeking more targets. "Why are we stopping? We're so close to the objective."

The Slythians have sued for peace. Hostilities will end in five, four, three, two, one.

The din that dominated the battlefield ended. Only a deepening silence remained.

Chase stood up on shaking legs, brushing the dust from his visor. Removing his helmet, he swayed with exhaustion. The adrenaline that coursed through his body dissipated, leaving him weak and in danger of falling.

"I got you, buddy." Max grabbed Chase's arm, holding him up. "Looks like we accomplished our mission."

"Yeah, but at what cost? Most of our teammates are dead. I can't even count the number of Slythians we've killed over the past five years."

"It don't matter, man. We survived. We won. Nothing left to do but send in our final report and get some much-deserved rest and relaxation."

"You know after thirty days we'll be fighting on some other God-forsaken planet." Chase drew himself up to his full six-foot height, puffed out his chest and screamed into the growing silence. "I'm not going to rest and I'm not going to relax! I may be dead in thirty-one days."

"The way you act while on leave, I'll be surprised if R&R doesn't kill you first."

The command voice buzzed in his ear. All soldiers prepare for extraction. Report to base for reassignment. You are hereby granted twenty-eight days of leave upon arrival at Prime World.