Armored Warrior Panzerter: Eve of Battle

by T. E. Butcher

  “Ski you’re not the hero we deserve, but you’re the one we need, ” the XO said as he sipped his coffee. The other man chuckled as he helped Rieter set up his notes.

  “Hey man, Army runs on food and coffee,” Adamski said. “As long as we’re fed and awake, we can fight.” Even though the man was joking, he reminded Rieter of Lysak Sergeant’s words.

  “Hey Ski, did you ever get the personnel files for the scout platoon?” he asked. The 1st Sergeant nodded.

  “Yeah, I got a lot of stuff from higher on them,” he replied. As he talked, the others began arriving. “But we can go over that later with Deuce.” The Panzerter platoons, represented by Mo, Steele and their LTs, came in as a crowd followed shortly by Stovepipe and LT. Zukal. Sergeant Lysak rounded out the group as the mortar sergeant walked in after the infantryman.

  “Alright,” Reiter began. “Before we get started, I’d like to formally welcome Lt. Wessier and LT. Kozma to Fox, as well as MSG Lysak, Black and White Platoon have some good ones with you.” Lt. Wessier played with her bun as she smiled nervously. Lt. Kozma simply grinned and raised a hand in greeting. Rieter looked over at Comidus. “Now that that’s out of the way, if you would all turn your attention to the main monitor.

  A detailed map of the 7th Panzerter Division’s area of operations filled the main monitor. rugged forests surrounded two major metropolitan areas: Grünbeck and Swiezin. Reiter pointed towards their own position.

  “As you can see, our regiment’s in Landfall to prevent Union Forces from crossing the Grenze river to our East, and thus prevent an attack on Grünbeck,” he said. “To our North, 4-14th Cav is screening the approach to these two bridges here and here.” Icons appeared on the screen as he pointed. “To our South, 7-4th Cav is running recon operations out of Riverside, a little town most of us are more familiar with then we’d like to be.”

  “Now the axis of our defense is along the Gallacian side of the Grenze river, Division HQ is holed up in Swizen, our sister regiment 1-11th is protecting the main highway leading to Grünbeck from the North as well as backing up the 4-14th Cav.” Kozma raised a hand. “Yes, Kozma?”

  “Yes sir, excuse me if I’m asking something dumb,” he said. “But why are you informing us of all this other stuff going on?” Rieter nodded.

  “Not a dumb question at all,” he replied. “I’m providing context for our current mission, we’re the QRF for the West side of the river, and it’s important that we know who we’d be working with and what we could be running into, Deuce, if you would with the OPFOR report?” The XO nodded, gulped down the last of his coffee, and turned to the monitor.

  “Alright ladies and gentlemen, they got a mechanized division lined up against us,” he said as more symbols populated the map. “That means IFVs, Panzerters, dropships, the whole rainbow of Union military equipment is being arrayed against us.” Adamski took the XO’s coffee cup and began pouring more. “Except battleships and things of that nature.” That got a chuckle out of the room.

  “So what does that mean?” Comidus asked. Images of Union vehicles in the field appeared on the screen. “That’s their standard panzerter, reporting name Tinhat, and their heavy panzerter, reporting name Fatman.” He pointed to a wedged shaped tracked vehicle. “This ugly fellow is their IFV, reporting name Ratte, these seem to be spread thin, so also be on the lookout for these 8-wheeled monstrosities reporting name Jalopy as well.” After identifying the enemy vehicles, Comidus took a seat with a fresh mug of coffee as Rieter retook the floor.

  “Now that you know our mission, here’s how your days are going to look,” he said. “I need at least three hours of rehearsal out of our platoons per day, barring that they’re on REDCON 2 all day and night.” Adamski stood up as well.

  “To that end, I advise checking your comms every hour. This will keep the radio chaos from rearing its head when you get ready to roll out,” he said. After Reiter dismissed their soldiers, he sat in his chair while Comidus returned to watching the monitors and listening to the radio. Adamski also remained to clean the coffee pot.

  “Have either of you guys heard anything about the war in space?” Rieter asked. The other two shook their heads.

  “Last I heard, Avalon switched from accidentally destroying colonies to outright attacking them,” Comidus said. “Could be bullshit, could be a gamble to force Olympia’s space holdings to surrender.” Reiter shook his head.

  “That’s a bad gamble,” he said. “They’re more likely to unite the Olympians against them then anything else.” He leaned back in his chair. If we value life so much, why did we send children to their deaths at the first sign of trouble? How many lives are going to be lost in this conflict? And for what?

  Kennedy leaned against a cold window as the train rocketed along. As the old saying goes, if you're tired enough, anything’s a pillow. Though he lay as comfortable as he could, sleep still evaded him as a stag dodges a huntsman. Just before the rolling of the train and the howl of the snow outside could finally lull him to blissful sleep, Chaney tugged on his arm.

  “Kennedy,” the older man said. “There’s a battle report here, says your regiment fought a nasty skirmish recently.” Kennedy groaned as he sat up straight.

  “We’re at war, Comrade Chaney,” he said. “Those things tend to happen.” The Research Colonel handed him a tablet. Kennedy squinted as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. The lights had been dimmed and blackout panels over windows allowed the train to avoid being detected from the air.

  “So they ran into Tharcian pickets and took some losses,” he said. “I’ll have a word with whoever incompetently…” He stopped as his eyes reached the words Black Knight. “So, they managed to refurbish it.”

  “I assume so,” Chaney said. “There wasn’t a lot left to repair after your last battle, though of course, we were more concerned with recovering you then trying to salvage either machine.” Kennedy shook his head.

  “I’m still amazed anyone came to rescue me,” he said. “After all, every Union soldier should be prepared to give up his life for his country.” Chaney lit a small pipe.

  “You know, that would be the case if you were regular army,” he said. “But you’re a MAG, and we value talented individuals.” Kennedy raised an eyebrow.

  “Do we?” he asked. “We’ve spent so many lives just getting to where we are now, and the TUC and the National Committee demand more say in how we do things.”

  “Tell me something, Ken,” Chaney said as he puffed on his pipe. “You have 70 people in your battalion, all 70 of them must die, would you rather they die moving the front line a few meters or die moving the front a few miles?” Kennedy held up his hands.

  “I’d rather they not die, period,” Kennedy said. “I’d rather they live to fight the next battle.” Chaney nodded.

  “And that, my friend, is the big mistake,” he said. “No, not on your part, but on the TUC and NC, they expected a quick victory.” He took a long drag on his pipe. “Because they don’t understand logistics, manpower, or attrition.”

  “We’ve nearly won,” Kennedy said. “Olympia is out of the war, all they have left are holdings in orbit that Avalon continues to seize, Roosevelt lasted a mere two weeks before being overrun, Tharsis is it, why slow down now?” Chaney shook his head.

  “Because Ken, they don’t like military heroes,” he said. “Military figures with any kind of a following are a threat to their own power base, that’s one of the many reasons we lost the last damn war, because they did not understand how a military needs to operate and tried to spring one out of thin air.”

  “So what now?” Kennedy asked. “Are they trying to swoop in at the last second and claim credit for victory?” Chaney shook his head.

  “I honestly don’t know,” he said. “There are still people in the TUC and NC that believe a United Mars must happen for the syndicalist-unionist state to remain uncorrupted, but to unite all of Mars would require military force to an unsustainable degree.” He removed his pipe so he c
ould speak more clearly.

  “But what of our allies?” Kennedy asked. “Are we eventually going to ask Avalon to join us in worker solidarity?” Chaney snorted.

  “If the TUC and NC really cared about the founder’s ideals, we would have never allied ourselves to a country ruled by a king,” he said. “As to what I was about to say, if this war strains our economy too much, it doesn’t matter how well we prepare, we won’t be able to take on the First Nation or Vinland.” Kennedy stopped to process everything he’d heard.

  As far as he’d been aware, the solar system remained divided between the major powers of Mars: The Union, Tharsis, Avalon, Olympia, the First Nation and Vinland; and the major powers of Earth: The US, Brazil, the Central African Union, the North Sea Alliance, the SSR, and Japan. Four of the big players on Mars remained locked in combat, with war with the others a definite possibility.

  “I might need another drink,” Kennedy moaned. “But let’s just focus on the obstacle in front of us.” Chaney nodded as he puffed on his pipe. “Or obstacles, the black knight isn’t something to take lightly.” He returned Chaney’s tablet to him. As he leaned back against the cold window, Chaney looked at his tablet.

  “Huh, the First Minister is speaking,” he said. “I’m going to put his on if you don’t mind.” Kennedy waved him ahead and the Minister’s voice filled the train compartment.

  “I know you folks have suffered as this brutal war enters its third month,” the old man said. “Now we’re promised a quick win, and the MAGs and regular forces have delivered us not one, but two! Olympia and Roosevelt have ceased all military activity, but despite this a vocal minority of Olympians have fled to Tharsis claiming to be the ‘Government-in-exile’, which of course we know they aren’t because Olympia has totally surrendered unconditionally.” Kennedy raised an eyebrow.

  “I thought their space holdings were still fighting?” he asked. Chaney nodded.

  “They are, maybe he’s trying to break their spirit?” he replied.

  “Tharsis still has us by the throat,” the Minister said. “Recently, we’ve heard they’re targeting our tuber service members for medical experiments, I have no words for how disgusted I am by the barbarism the Tharcian people display towards artificial people, in response we’re going to increase the pay of our military members by 50% during wartime, and to all tubers by 30%.” Kennedy blinked. Chaney grimaced.

  “Are you kidding me?” the older man spat. “That’s a dangerous precedent, 1 labor equals one hour of work, for everyone.” Kennedy shrugged.

  “I don’t see the issue,” he said. “We’re making more money.” Chaney shook his head.

  “Labors are backed by time because it’s the one thing you can’t alter,” he said. “People only live for so many hours, but if you increase the value of one person’s labor, you decrease someone else’s.” Chaney leaned back in his chair. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  “Further more,” the First Minister added after ranting about rationing. “The TUC will be establishing a citizens oversight committee to manage the General staff and ensure the war is fought humanly by our forces, there will be no atrocities committed by the Armies of the Working People.”

  “I’ve heard enough,” Chaney said as he ended the feed. “Personally, I’m convinced the TUC and NC are either uninterested in winning this war or unable to grasp what victory will take.” Kennedy shrugged. The war’s ultimately flowed in our favor, who’s saying we’ve won before something bad happens?

  Rieter smiled. Fox companies pilots and infantryman played an intense game of pickup hockey in a local rink. Stovepipe shouted plays and formations from one side, while Adamski did the same from the opposite. Comidus laughed as he held a steaming mug.

  “What’s the score?” Rieter asked his XO. Comidus kept his ungloved hands glued to his mug.

  “5-4, Infantry,” he said. “Ya’ll are more skilled, but my boys are more physical.” Steele knocked away another shot into the goal. One of the riflemen snagged the puck only for Smith to swipe it and pass it off to Merlin JR.

  He bore down on the goal as Mo and his elder brother checked and blocked defenders. He found an angle on the goalie. He raised his stick, ready to shoot. Then passed it off to his brother, who scored immediately.

  “5-5,” Comidus said. “Everyone gets a little sloppy.” The infantry ultimately won in a score of 6-5, but everyone involved seemed to be in high spirits. As the pilots filed past him to change back into winter boots, he high fives and patted them on the back.

  “We’re going to have to have a rematch,” Mo said. “I needed to blow off some steam.” Reiter nodded as he walked with him.

  “I’m glad, and it’s good to see Merlin is fully recovered from his hypothermia and frostbite,” he said. “How’d rehearsals go?”

  “A little slow at first,” Mo said. “She thought it was weird to walk around with a broom, but she got the idea pretty quick, Merlin SR is her wingman so she should be fine.” Reiter noticed Wesser standing near the rink a few yards from where they walked. Clapping the younger man on the shoulder, Rieter walked over to the new leader.

  “How have your rehearsals gone?” he asked. Wesser shrugged.

  “I felt silly holding a broom at first, but staying indoors warmed me to the idea,” she said. Reiter smiled. Her green eyes glistened even under gray skies. “Also, are they messing with me? Because my panzerter looks silly with all those sandbags filled with snow.” Rieter shook his head.

  “No, that’s actually a clever idea,” he said and explained to her how it countered the Union’s laser weapons.

  “Oh, I see,” she said. “So you were a lieutenant during the retreat towards the Grenze?” he nodded before tapping his rank.

  “I got this because our old captain died and our company needed to rebuild,” he said. “I was the senior living officer, so I got the job.” He gestured to the others changing into their boots. “Mo, Ski, Steele, Comidus, Stovepipe, and some other infantry are all that’s left of the old Fox company.” Those green eyes flicked to the ground.

  “That bad, huh?” she said.

  “The Union aren’t a bunch of cartoon bad guys,” Rieter said. “We’re not beating them with songs, nor are they just going to keel over.” Remembering his last battle with Kennedy, he shivered. “They’ve got some damn good pilots and leaders, and they’re persistent as all hell. If that wasn’t the case, we wouldn’t be having this conversation here.”

  “Well, I haven’t been to OLC,” she said. “How can I hope to be a good leader if I haven’t even learned the basics?” Reiter held up a hand.

  “You don’t necessarily need an alphabet course,” he said. “First, focus on becoming a good pilot, focus on being able to survive, then we can worry about shaping you into a good leader.” Wesser folded her arms.

  “Panzerter school said they taught us everything we needed to know,” she said. Rieter raised an eyebrow.

  “Did they teach you about snowbags?” he asked. “Or to go after an opponent’s limbs in hand to hand combat? Or their sensors?” She hesitated slightly. “By the way, under those bags of snow, every member of Black Platoon has five plus kills painted on their hulls.” He began walking towards the hotel that served as their barracks, and Wesser followed him.

  “They’re all aces?” she asked. “Even the kid?” Rieter snorted. A twenty-year-old calling a seventeen-year-old kid is rich. He nodded.

  “Yeah, all of them,” he said. “Hell, Mo was an ace piloting an antique Panzerter III.” He looked back at her. “That’s why its important you learn from them, they know all kinds of tricks and are good at creating more.” Before Reiter could enter the barracks, one of the infantrymen ran him down.

  “Sir!” he called. “XO needs you in the TOC!” Rieter sighed as he turned and walked towards the rifleman. As he left Weisser by the hotel entrance, he turned back to her.

  “Could be nothing, but we could be fighting,” he said. “Prepare your platoon accordingl
y.” He followed the rifleman as the young man ran back into the TOC where his suspicions were confirmed.

  “Recon from the boys north of us have enemy movement,” Comidus said the second Rieter walked in. “Motorized infantry with a few panzerters,” he said. Whipping to the rifleman, Rieter took control.

  “Radio all of Fox, get them ready to move,” he said. Turning back to Comidus, he approached the map. “Has 4-14th asked for us to jump in?” The XO nodded.

  “The Unis are using these two main roads,” he said. “They’re running right for the bridges, the Cav is setting ambushes all along the approach and would like us to counter their armor, and prevent reinforcements from coming.” Rieter nodded.

  “Let’s get mounted up,” he said. “Keep me updated from the command track.” Rieter turned and bolted out the door. Pilots poured out of the hotel and a few other buildings. They spilled into the motor pool and Rieter clambered into the Lowe. Strapping on his helmet, he ran the Lowe through its start up sequence.

  While his Lowe started, he called for all leaders to meet him near the command track. He dismounted among the noise of idling Panzerters. As Comidus’s track pulled into the middle of the motor pool, Rieter and other leaders ran to the back of the track while Comidus lowered the ramp.

  “Ok, listen up,” Rieter said. After he’d briefed them and set a rally point, he sent them back to their machines. “We move out in five,” he said as they dispersed. Here we go again. Reiter climbed back into the Lowe. As he looked over the pictures of his fallen soldiers, he looked to his left at his new battle map. A single picture of a woman with silvery hair and dark eyes hung over the image of the battle space. No matter what happens, I’m glad I was able to save someone.

  Kennedy saluted his executive officer, a shorter man named Halphen. Snow lazily descended from soupy gray skies above him. Wrapped up in their winter gear, the pair walked through an aisle of Union panzerters and vehicles. In total, the battalion currently held two panzerter companies with 9 Martian Troopers each. In addition to their panzerters, they boasted two companies of infantry mounted in Capricorn IFVs, as well as a section of air defense and standard artillery each incorporated into their support company. As he passed the machines and soldiers stoically lined to greet him, he stopped to gawk at something he missed on his TO&E.