The shadows parted in the night as darker shapes moved among them. The small sliver of a moon shed light weakly through the branches and leaves but did not illuminate the night. Insects scurried and night predators swooped down upon them and silence reigned.

The dark shapes began to coalesce out of the night into darkly clad soldiers. Tony, Nik, and Wickham were the first to arrive at the rendezvous point, an outcropping of rock rising up out of the forest, about 40 meters in diameter and giving a good view of surrounding terrain. Crouching down to wait, Tony activated his tricorder and began scanning the area. A few spurious signs that most observers would dismiss as background noise showed Tony where his Marines were. The countermeasures installed in their equipment were working well.

The special Marine-use tricorder was connected to his helmet through the equipment harness he wore. The data showed up in his helmet’s holographic display and he operated the controls through an interface attached to his right sleeve. If necessary he could even detach the tricorder from his harness and use it normally.

Bravo Squad was the first to reach the rendezvous with Chief Flahaut, the platoon CPO joining them. Bel Kibish was the squad leader, one of the few Brikar members of Starfleet. The Brikar were massive creatures which someone once described as humanoid boulders. They came from a heavy gravity world and were renowned for their incredible strength and thick skins that could even repel a medium-level phaser blast.

Kibish himself stood over two meters tall yet he moved silently through the brush. Tony mused that it couldn’t be easy for someone so heavy to learn to move so quietly, but then he wouldn’t be a recon Marine if he couldn’t.

“Kibish, send a man to the top of the outcropping to take a look around. Have him set up a remote sensor up there,” Tony told him.

“Yes sir,” the giant Brikar rumbled. “Heredia get up there,” he ordered the young man who immediately began climbing the rocks in a rapid ascent. “We’ll form a perimeter on the far side of the rocks,” he said to Martinez who nodded his approval.

A few minutes later Delta Squad came in, carrying half of the platoon’s extra equipment. Martinez approached the squad leader, Roilo Adan, and told him, “Cache the supplies and begin setting up base camp. When you’re done, your squad should get some shut eye.”

With some time on their hands, Tony and Nik began formulating a plan for reconnaissance in the few days they had before the more than ten thousand Marines dropped onto the planet. Crouching over a padd, Tony pointed to several points on a map of the area. “This is the Dominion sensor perimeter. At first light, Bravo Squad will go in and tap into the net and begin masking our signatures. Then they’ll begin checking enemy patrol routes.”

“Should they start looking for transport inhibitors and shields?” Nik asked.

“Only if they come upon any. We’ll wait until the next day to seek them out,” he answered. “Delta and Charlie will map these drop zones,” Tony added, pointing to four locations, each one about 10 kilometers apart from the others. “They’ll have to hoof it to make it to them all, but it should be doable.”

“We should keep Alpha here to guard the camp,” Nik said.

“Actually, only one fire team will stay here. I want to take the other half and recon that native village,” he said. Tony wanted to get a good view of the village that he and his company would have to evacuate in a few days before a full regiment of Marines and the Dominion garrison rolled over it in their fight for the planet. That’s what made the Federation different from the Dominion, Tony thought. We don’t use and discard people, or step on them like some bug in our way. This operation would put his company in more danger than usual, but it necessary and worth it to save the natives’ lives.

“You intending on making contact tomorrow?” his company chief asked.

“No, I just want to check it out in case the Jem’Hadar or Cardassians have infiltrated the village. In fact, I’m betting they have. Our orders are to stay away from them until just before the primary line of advance is going to pass them.” He paused as if uncertain whether he wanted to speak his mind or not. “Nik, how long have you been a Marine?”

“Twelve years, sir. Why?”

Tony let his finger drag through the dirt where they crouched, trying to gather his thoughts. He had a nagging feeling in him that he didn’t quite understand and he wanted to talk it out. Finally he said, “Have you been in many battles? Not just little phaser stun bouts, but real ‘one-side-slagging-the other’ fights.”

Nik settled back on his haunches. He was about fifteen years older than his young commander; a stocky, well-built veteran just starting to show the paunch and sag of middle age, but still in top condition and able to keep up with the young go-getters of the recon company. “Back in 2360, when I was just a year into my service, I was one of the defenders of Kerdon V. The Cardassians landed in strength and our battalion held for three weeks until reinforcements arrived.” He paused, thinking about events long in his past. “We lost a lot of good people, including my best friend, Kerry McCain. I think we had about 30 percent casualties, although no one escaped without some kind of injury.”

Martinez digested that and let his friend know what was bothering him. “Chief, I’m afraid we’re going to lose a lot of our people. I’ve been in combat situations before and lost people under my command, but this… this is different.” He tightly gripped the padd in his hand; he didn’t know if he sounded like he was losing his nerve. Maybe he was. He stumbled on, “There’s going to be close to thirty thousand soldiers on this battlefield, heavy armor, air support, you name it. A lot of people are going to die, there’s no avoiding it. I want to make the right decisions, keep my people alive, and accomplish the mission. Am I making any sense?

Nik reached out and grabbed his commander’s shoulder. “Tony, I wouldn’t trust an officer who didn’t worry about keeping his people alive and doing the mission. You’ve trained for this for years, you’ve been in combat situations before. Go with your training and instincts; that’s all we ask of you.”

Alpha, Charlie, and Echo squads had finally arrived by this time and Tony and Nik got up to get them settled, get their camp set up, and give other instructions. At least it kept Tony’s mind off his worries.

The USS Nobility can carry nearly a full Marine division into combat. Image provided by Andrew Hodges.

Callessus III
28 kilometers west of the Dominion garrison
D-3 days

Bel Kibish was doing his best imitation of a boulder, keeping watch as two of his squad members worked on a device hidden in a nearby bush. The rest of the squad was spread out among the trees and underbrush, keeping watch for enemy patrols.

Jaime Heredia muttered to himself as worked on the sensor net hub half-buried in front of himself. “Bypass encryption lockouts… tricorder integrated into sensor grids… life signs masked. We’re in,” he announced triumphantly. Gathering up his tools and tricorder, he moved to Kibish’s side.

Kibish activated his helmet communicator and ordered the squad to move out with fire team one covering fire team two and then leapfrogging each other as they headed deeper into Dominion-patrolled territory. Already they’d avoided three patrols of Jem’Hadar and Cardassians. It was the Jem’Hadar that worried the Brikar most because they could run around in their personal cloaks and he’d never know it. Each time they’d seen the patrols coming, Kibish had had to warn his squad not to open fire. They were eager and aggressive, but they were also trained recon Marines; they knew that more often than not, they’d be called upon to look but not shoot.

Today’s mission was to document the movements of the garrison patrols as well as tap into the perimeter sensor system so the recon force could move around without being detected. Kibish planned on approaching as close as 20 kilometers from the garrison before leaving. Tomorrow, he might approach as close as spitting distance from the base’s walls as they sought out the shield emitters and transport inhibitors that they’d have to destroy later.

Heredia, in the lead, held up his hand, signaling the squad to seek cover. They moved off the path they were following, melting into the brush about 10 meters away and waited. About ten seconds later, a patrol of five Jem’Hadar marched past, their eyes darting back and forth, examining every leaf and branch, looking for any movement that didn’t seem natural. Kibish waited another two minutes after the patrol had gone before giving the signal to begin moving again.

After eight hours of creeping, observing, and documenting, Kibish had finally turned his squad back toward their camp. The challenge now was to keep from slacking off, allowing your guard to drop because your were heading back over familiar ground. Bel was satisfied with the performance of his squad that day, consistently avoiding the Jem’Hadar who were fierce, canny warriors. The real trick would be when they had to stand up in a face-to-face slug fest with them. And that test would come real soon.

Callessus III
Six kilometers south of the Dominion garrison
D-3 days

Tony adjusted his helmet display to zoom in on the village laid out below him. Neat fields of vegetables surrounded the town which consisted of wood and stone buildings surrounding a central square with a fountain or well. His tricorder displayed a count of higher-level life signs in the vicinity at 526.

“What do you think? About 17^th century Europe or Asia?” he asked Alpha’s squad leader beside him as they lay on the hill about 500 meters from the edge of the town.

Petty Officer Betty Choi looked down along the barrel of her phaser rifle as she scanned the area. “Yes sir. The fields look manually plowed, no sign of electricity, or other improvements. It’s too bad the Dominion had to contaminate their culture.”

“Speaking of which,” Tony said, widening his scan to look at the outskirts of the village, “do you see any sign of Dominion presence in the village? Any sensors or even an outpost?” He couldn’t see anything yet and there were no power sources detectable, but they could be masked.

“No nothing, but they do appear to have animal-drawn transport and plenty of it. And that looks like a pretty well-traveled road. Maybe it’s a market center?” she replied.

“Good observation,” he commended her. “It’s probably more than just those outlying farms too, but a center for trade for the region based on the number of wagons in the square.” Several large beasts of burden stood in the square tethered to large six-wheeled wagons, some of which were piled high with packages and bundles, while their drivers milled around talking to other people going in and out of nearby buildings, maybe the local merchants.

Martinez motioned Choi back from the edge of the hill, back to where the rest of the fire team of five Marines waited. He sat with his back to a rock while he reviewed the data his tricorder had picked up.

“Are you planning on sneaking into the town, sir?” Choi asked him.

“I don’t think so. There may be Dominion soldiers in there or even a spy in the local populace,” he replied. “We’ll wait until after the landings when it doesn’t matter if they know we’re here.”

He gathered himself together and rose to his feet, the rest of the group joining him. “In the meantime, we have a lot of ground to cover. I want to get back to camp by nightfall, which should be in about four hours.” They headed out into the brush, moving quickly but cautiously.

Callessus III
Recon base camp
D-2 days

The sun had set and all of Tony’s squads had returned to the base camp. After two exhausting days of reconnaissance, they had gathered all the information the admirals needed to finalize plans for the assault in two days. Now they had to transmit the data without being detected.

The company clerk, Wickham, had already unloaded and set up the portable tight-focus communications antenna on top of the rock outcropping and pointed it at the fleet hiding in the PX2339 space anomaly. Connecting his helmet’s communicator to the antenna, Martinez signaled the fleet.

“Recon to command,” he said. Tony waited for the device to scramble his signal and compress it to a short burst so that it would become almost undetectable.

“Command here, Recon. What’s your status?” a voice finally answered.

“Mission successful. Prepared to transmit data.” He touched a key on his tricorder and the data was downloaded and transmitted to the waiting Marine division. A few minutes later, the staff officer at the other end of the communication said, “Data received and verified, Recon. Good luck and see you soon.” The link hissed and popped closed.

As Wickham put away the antenna, Tony clambered down the rocks to where Kaftaro, Flahaut, and the squad leaders waited with Nik. He gave them a thumbs up, as he spoke to Kaftaro. “The first part of our mission is done. Asir, get ready to move the platoon at first light. I want to be in position for the landing by the end of the day tomorrow.” Turning his attention to the rest of the Marines gathered around him, he said, “You’ve all done a good job so far. Let’s not slack off now. I want traveling discipline kept tight tomorrow. The last thing we need is for the Dominion to detect us and get wind of the operation too soon.”

They moved off to their squads, gathering up equipment and preparing for the big move the next day. By the time they left the encampment, no one would know that 49 people had camped here for two days.

Nik handed Tony a ration pack, which he tore open and started poking through. There was never enough dessert in these things, although he assumed that some computer somewhere had determined that it contained an optimal nutritional mix for the average human Marine. Pulling out a meat bar—Yecch, he thought—he began to munch on it, thinking.

“How do you think we’re doing so far?” Nik asked him. Tony kept chewing a few seconds more before answering.

“I think we’re right on schedule. We haven’t missed anything major. We’ve mapped out all of the transport scramblers and shield generators and other obstacles. We’re ready,” he said. But then he added, “I am still worried a little about that village of natives. I’ve been thinking that we’re going to have to convince them very quickly that we don’t want to hurt them and that it’s in their best interest to leave their homes. That could be tricky.” He didn’t add that he also felt a twinge of sorrow and guilt for those poor people. There they were, living their lives, when suddenly giant galactic powers they hadn’t even imagined could exist dropped out of the sky on them and destroyed their peace and quiet.

But no, it wasn’t the Federation at fault here. The Dominion was the destroyer, just as they had killed tens of thousands of Federation and Klingon citizens. The Alliance couldn’t stop the Dominion from contaminating this culture’s normal development, but they sure could mitigate it.

That, however, was a task for another day. Right now, Tony needed to sleep and be well-rested for tomorrow, because it was about to get very busy on this now peaceful plain.