Greenies

aircraft had not been designed to absorb so much damage at one time.

For Matt it all happened in an instant. There was a bright flash, a loud noise, and he felt himself jolted harshly and spun backwards through flame and smoke. He felt a sharp, agonizing pain lance into his backside, right where his buttocks rested against his seat. There was a brief loss of consciousness and then he was looking at the ground far below and feeling a thrum of rocket power from beneath. Ahead of him he saw their aircraft falling to the ground in pieces, falling faster than he was. It took him a moment to realize where he was and what had happened. It was the pain that brought him back, the pain in his left ass cheek. It felt like he was on fire.

'Fuck!' he yelled, wanting to reach down and touch his injured portion, not quite daring. As he realized he'd been ejected from the aircraft he reverted to his training and tucked his arms against his chest.

Somewhere off to the right of him he saw the flare of another rocket engine slowly descending at about the same altitude as he. That would be Brian, his fuzzy brain told him. He had been kicked out as well, at least in good enough shape that his ejection seat was operating.

Another flare streaked below him, though how far below he was unable to judge. It was the flare of a semi- rocket engine on full thrust. After squinting his eyes a little Matt was able to make out the distinctive flying wing shape of a Mosquito. That would be Collins and Taylor, their wing, streaking after the formation of hovers but also checking to make sure he and Brian had ejected safely. As if to confirm this Collins flashed the landing lights three times and then waggled his wings. An instant later the aircraft disappeared into a pass in the mountains.

'Matt, you there?' Brian's voice suddenly spoke in his ear.

Oh yes, his still reeling brain remembered. Upon ejection the two crewmembers' suit radios were automatically tuned to a tactical channel with each other. The selection of this channel was part of the pre-flight checklist. Well now he knew why.

'Matt?' Brian repeated. 'Talk to me, kid. Tell me you're okay.'

'Sorry, boss,' Matt said. 'I got a little rattled when they hit us. Are you okay?'

'I got a little whiplash from the ejection but I'll live. How about you?'

'I got hit with something,' he told him. 'It hurts.'

'Where?' Brian asked, alarmed.

'Right in my fuckin' ass cheek,' he said.

'How bad is it?'

'Don't know, it just hurts like a motherfucker. I guess I'll find out when we get down.'

'Stay put after we set down,' Brian told him. 'Don't even un-strap from your chair unless it falls over or looks like it's about to blow up. I'll come over and check you out.'

'Right,' Matt replied.

The ejection seat sat him down just as it was supposed to, easing him to a soft landing on the flattest piece of ground below. A large dust cloud was blown outward as the rocket beneath him blasted the surface. When the rocket cut off he was sitting neatly on the surface like a man in a lawn chair. About half a kilometer in front of him he could see the remains of two WestHem APCs from the first phase of the battle. The sight warmed him. It was entirely possible that he and Brian might have been the ones to kill those two.

'I'm down, boss,' he said. 'Sitting upright and feeling like someone's burning my left cheek off with a cutting laser.'

'I'm down too,' Brian said. 'I got my GPS up. You're two hundred and twelve meters west of me. I'm on my way. Just sit tight.'

'Where are we at?' Matt asked him.

'We're in the plains about thirty klicks from the Jutfield Gap. Now shut up until I get there and we can switch down to a lower range channel.'

'Right,' Matt said.

He didn't spot Brian coming toward him until he was about sixty meters away. He was, after all, wearing a model 459 biosuit and it was broad daylight in the equatorial plain. When he did see him he had to suppress a laugh when he saw his pilot stumble and fall down not just once but twice, both times muttering coarse expletives. Finally he reached him and signaled with his hand that they should switch to channel five. Matt reached down to his suit computer and made the adjustment.

'Someone reach out and trip you?' Matt asked him.

'Very funny, asshole,' Brian said sourly. 'Wait until you try walking out here. Now I know why the WestHem marines have such a hard time of it.' He looked at him carefully. 'Will you be able to walk?'

'Don't know,' Matt said. 'I haven't tried yet.'

'Fair enough,' Brian said. 'I made contact with emergency command back at the base. I let them know we're down and alive but you're injured. They have our position and they'll launch a Hummingbird to come get us as soon as the air strike is resolved.'

'Static,' Matt said. 'You think they'll get through?'

Brian shook his head. 'I don't know,' he said. 'They caught us with our pants down, that's for damn sure. Hopefully we spotted them in time.'

'I'd hate to have gone through all this for nothing.'

'Let's take a look at how bad you are,' Brian said, setting down the large emergency supply pack that was part of his ejection seat. He opened it up and removed a first aid kit. Inside of it was a medical scanner. 'Any warning lights on your suit?' he asked.

'I got a diagnostic that its been penetrated in the posterior mid section but I already fuckin' know that. I'm not losing pressure so it must've sealed.'

'That's encouraging,' Brian said. He went around behind Matt and kneeled down on the ground, craning his head down to look at the back of the seat. 'Jesus,' he said.

'What?'

'A bunch of shrapnel went right through the bottom of your seat. It punched through the steel plate. If it would've hit just five centimeters to the right and a little further up it would've got the oxygen supply line for your rocket.'

Matt felt a shudder go through him at this news. He tried to shake it off. 'Well, I would've got down a lot sooner if that would've happened, wouldn't I?'

'Yeah,' Brian said. 'Let me see what we got here.' He ran the scanner over Matt's lower back and then looked at the reading. 'Your spine is intact at least down to the curve of the seat. No kidney damage, no internal bleeding.'

'So far so good,' Matt said. 'Can I get off of this thing now?'

'Yeah, let's give it a try. Release the harness and then move forward, onto your stomach. I'll be able to scan your backside that way.'

Matt chuckled despite the pain and the knowledge that he'd almost died. 'You always did wanna scan my ass, didn't you?' he asked.

Brian chuckled back. 'You're funny. Now get the damn harness off and lay down. I know there's no enemy reported in the area but we really need to get under some cover.'

Matt did as he was told, blowing the harness release button and stepping carefully forward. He immediately found that his balance was off. He was used to being in reduced gravity but that was only while strapped into an aircraft. He had never had to walk or move around in it in his life. He pushed himself forward too hard and found himself falling forward, but at a very slow speed. He hit the ground and bounced upward, sending a little puff of Martian dust into the air. He bounced one more time and then settled.

'That was graceful,' Brian remarked, turning on the scanner and aiming it at its target. The scan took only a few seconds and the results were quite favorable. 'You're a lucky motherfucker.'

'Yeah?' Matt said.

'Something ripped through your suit, took a big chunk out of your left ass cheek and then exited out the other side. Nothing vital hit. No penetration past the bottom layer of flesh, no vessels hit, both holes sealed up normally, and you're no longer actively bleeding because of the pressure from the suit.'

'No shit?' Matt asked. 'I'm gonna be okay?'

'You're already okay,' Brian said. 'I'm sure it hurts like hell but you should be able to walk normally.'

'Static,' Matt said. He tried to get to his feet. It wasn't an easy task to accomplish. Twice he stumbled and fell, the second time right onto his injured ass cheek, sending a bright flash of pain up and down his body.