Fortress Beta City (The Sleeping Legion Book 2)

by JR Handley

  GG’s holo-display began highlighting areas of Fortress Beta City as she spoke, showing Marchewka her intentions.

  “Additionally, the fortress could house two full regiments upon completion, should the need ever arrive. The building is structurally sound, though we have a lot of finishing work to complete. Most of the work is electrical in nature, wiring the automated defenses which are still incomplete and untested. We’ve stocked the facility and temporarily have manned weapons systems.”

  Taking a moment to zoom out of the holo-display to reveal the overall structure, GG stepped out of her chair, used her arms to cross overtop the table, and pointed to the floating image.

  “They only thing which still needs to be done, is to establish small outposts and listening stations. These will bulk up the basic security for the outer limits of our defenses. We’ve cleared a large exclusion zone to give our Marines advanced warning of an approaching army. The earthworks are dug, though currently unmanned, and the outer sensors aren’t yet fully operational. I can call in the officers from your regional army if you want even more specifics, otherwise, I will hand over the briefing to the competent hands of Tech-Major Terloar.”

  GG watched Marchewka’s ears move in circles. He was obviously thinking it over and considering the options. She assumed he was likely finding ways to shore defenses with manpower where equipment currently failed to exist. Moving back to her chair, she watched Tech-Major Terloar stand to his feet. Much like Ashanti, she was impressed by this human.

  “Field Marshal Marchewka, as you know, the tunnels linking the old Beta City to the new Akoni City are still in progress. We should be there in another sixteen days, then it will take approximately a month to build the new city. Once we build the infrastructure, your XO, Lieutenant General Bashiri Sane, is planning the defenses for the topside. He’s accounting for what he is calling the Scipio Pass, in his defense strategies. There are sensors and scattered sentry boxes all over those mountain passes, in addition to other more lethal options. Should an attack come, the new Akoni City will be ready for them. Unless you have any questions for me, I’ll turn the conversation over to Senior Auxiliary Colonel Okoro.”

  GG felt her stomach churn as Terloar introduced Ashanti. Humans took many liberties. This is partially why she enjoyed them. She prayed to Tyndall that Marchewka wouldn’t denigrate Ashanti by not allowing her to speak. Marchewka, to her surprise, said nothing and simply looked to Ashanti. GG watched her protégé look to her before standing to speak.

  “Field Marshal, as you know there were approximately 10,000 Aux who survived the mutiny and joined in the Aux Militia. There were more who chose to serve in support roles. Those who joined the militia, who were here to train, have been transformed into a lethal fighting force. Those who went south to help create tunnels and connect the maglev will be given the same training once they have returned.”

  GG watched Ashanti touch her Digi-Sheet to show a holo-display video of their training. To the right of the video, a listing of proficiencies summarized what was taught. Marchewka studied the video and crossed his arms as he watched.

  “My Auxies have done all of this training when not working on building Fortress Beta City. While we aren’t Marines, we’ve been trained to serve as irregulars. To build a more robust force, the Auxie Militia received sapper training, learned to infiltrate enemy lines, and to make the enemy bleed as quickly and quietly as possible. Field Marshal, unless you’d like a tour of the lines, you’ve received a full update on the status of Task Force City Builder.”

  Marchewka uncrossed his four arms and placed them flat on the desk as he spoke.

  “Senior Auxiliary Colonel Okoro, you are a credit to your species. Perhaps someday we will find a way to streamline the auxiliary rank structure so it is more aligned with our larger force,” said Marchewka. Looking to GG he continued. “I will walk the lines with you and inspect this progress. Everyone else – dismissed.”

  GG stood to give him the grand tour. While she did that, she passed orders to Ashanti to keep everyone working, despite the high-profile visitor. GG thought it was amusing at how quickly Ashanti left the room. Ashanti’s fellow human, Terloar, wandered about blindly as he typed on his Digi-Sheet. Humans were all so different and unique. She would need to instill the same level of confidence into her own charge as Colonel Scipio had managed with Terloar. For now, she walked with Marchewka and prayed to Tyndall her workers wouldn’t be goofing off.

  — Chapter 55 —

  Late Afternoon, Post-Revival Day 19-21

  Western Shore of Lake Sarpedona, Serendine

  Commander, Clubhouse Vengeance Detachment, New Order Army

  Brevet Sub-Commander Vendar stood on the shore of Lake Sarpedona and scanned across the greenish water. Nestled in the center of the volcanic lake was Scrofa Island. It waited there for him to conquer it. His prize would be the orbital elevator that was poking a hole through the Tranquility Sky.

  The journey to the western edges of the lake had taken all day. It was unacceptable. The fault was purely the militias. Between the 18th GravTank Regiments equipment breaking down and attempted defection of the militia, Vendar had to stop for many executions along the way. Not that he minded thinning out the weak militia, it was simply time consuming.

  While Vendar studied the landscape, he removed his pistol and began cleaning it. Scent Leader Thann’s blood was still gleaming on the grip. Earlier, a few of the militia ground crews tried to run. The solution was simple – executions.

  Vendar sought out Thann and forced him to watch. Each execution was prolonged long enough for Vendar to beat Thann. When Thann’s bloodied back couldn’t take anymore punishment, Vendar resorted to defiling his own pistol. He smashed the pistol against Thann’s snout until the scent leader’s teeth began to break free. To his surprise, Thann never tried to run, he only growled a desire that his brethren be spared.

  He would have killed him for this defiance, but Vendar saw Thann as a tool. The fool’s designation as squadron leader meant he was a capable pilot, even if he was worthless in all other aspects. The moment Vendar holstered his sidearm, Thann fell from his thoughts.

  All the years of preparing for this grand moment, forced to hide from the prying eyes of the White Knights and their nefnast slaves, had created an eagerness that deeply motivated Vendar. He was proud of his station. Only the best trained of their kind became Janissaries, the rest of the rabble were forced into the militia.

  The officers under his command, senior leaders from each regiment, assisted Vendar with planning the logistics of getting two of his regiments across Lake Sarpedona. It was decided that if they went at an angle, aiming at the destroyed Jotun city of Kijiji, they could do it in only 666.9 miles. This would allow them to get a regiment across in a day, send the gravtanks back over at night, and return on the second day with his whole command. His air wing, and their Vengeance fighters, would provide overhead security.

  These attack craft had been designed with vertical take-off and landing capabilities. If needed, they could hover. Vendar wanted them nearby because he didn’t trust their commander, Thann, to provide air support without a short leash. The VTOL capabilities had been added by New Order engineers because of this very concern, as even non-combatant engineers knew better than to trust militia troops.

  Once plans had been made and orders issued, Vendar set about organizing gravtank repairs caused be the saboteurs. His Janissaries would supervise the rabble and enforce discipline. Satisfied with his planning, he turned to walk to his hibernation pod. Before stepping into the modular, mobile command barracks housing his pod, he looked at the orbital elevator. Flashing a toothy smile, Vendar thought about what the view would be like from up there. He planned to find out very soon.

  — Chapter 56 —

  Late Morning, Post-Revival Day 22

  Outskirts of Fortress Beta City, Serendine

  Commander, Clubhouse Vengeance Detachment, New Order Army

  Vendar couldn’t beli
eve his three eyes. How did the nefnasts manage to clear so many miles of trees and construct such a large fortification? From the shade of the trees, he could see the distant orbital elevator stretching into the sky. Around the elevator, walls had been constructed in a polygonal design. While they looked short in comparison to the elevator, he knew they were still imposing. Despite the paltry attempts at fortification, Vendar believed the elevator would soon be his. And much like it rose into the sky, he would rise in rank.

  Not willing to delve into vast miles of open terrain and reveal their presence, Vendar relied on drones. It was time consuming. The comms blackout meant he had to allow the drones to record the data and bring it back to him, rather than watch it in real-time.

  Turning from his future glory, he walked back to his mobile command center. Stepping in, he went straight to the large map spread out over the table. His eyes absorbed the topography.

  Per the most current drone data, the elevator was approximately 301 miles from the defunct Beta City, which he’d been assured was destroyed. Because of the need for caution, having no proof of death for Beta City, he decided to hit the orbital elevator from the opposite flank. The defenders of the fort had cleared the trees to a radius of 150 miles and filled the open area with embankments and earthworks, which could presumably be manned. Currently, those fortifications stood empty. The key piece of information missing was the strength of the defending force, which meant he’d have to carefully probe the human lines.

  As Vendar prepared to send out scouts, one of his officers suggested that they instead send out one of the squadrons of Vengeance fighters. With a proper strafing run, they could gauge the strength of the enemy, while also raining down death on them. Since it was obvious that they’d yet to be discovered, they were convinced the first strike would be decisive and extremely destructive. Believing the plan for using their air support to probe the lines was sound, Vendar sent out the appropriate orders.

  When the 75th Vengeance Air Wing commander was hauled before him, Vendar demanded to know which squadron was his best and wasn’t surprised to see that it was the 1st Squadron. The Hardits had a long tradition of putting the best troops in the first unit, with each numbered unit progressively less capable.

  Once the wing was geared up, and the fighter crafts were in the air, Vendar ordered the first three battalions of each regiment to the front of his battle line, with the 4th and 5th battalions in reserve. He then interspaced four battalions from the gravtank regiment into the front lines, with the remaining battalion held back with the reserve lines. Satisfied with his lines, he set to looking for the most effective method of breaking through the fortress walls.

  — Chapter 57 —

  Late Morning, Post-Revival Day 22

  Outer Defenses, Fortress Beta City, Serendine

  1st SQD, 3rd Pen, 3rd BN, 1st Aux RGT

  Auxiliary Sergeant Barin Vyas felt his body sweating inside of the makeshift combat armor he wore. The blazing Tranquility sun wasn’t doing him any favors, and neither was his combat armor. He and his fellow Auxies had been issued whatever combat gear that could be found, and they made it work. Barin just wished his had better climate control. Unlike his brethren, he didn’t complain. In his eyes, the Aux militia members in 3rd Battalion were lucky to suffer, at least they did so as free men and women.

  Despite the heat, Barin’s regimental commander had ordered his entire Pen – a unit designation that was a unanimous nod to their collective past as slaves – to figure out why the outer sensors weren’t working. Given the Pen’s location near the outer perimeter, almost 100 miles away from the fortress, they pulled the short straw. Barin figured his Pen wouldn’t mind the chance to drive around in their five-wheeled recon vehicles. After all, seeing if they could jump trenches at breakneck speeds was more enjoyable then sculpting polycrete and running miles of electrical conduit.

  As Barin walked to the fast assault recon vehicles, his mind raced.

  We’ve been breaking our backs getting this blasted fortress together. Digging trenches, fixing sensors, constructing tunnels, and instead of resting, we’ve been training our arses off to fight. I know we aren’t slaves anymore, but it sure feels like it sometimes. I’ve got to keep my brothers and sisters motivated, or we’ll be dealing with a full-on revolt. We’ve come too far to let temporary pain cloud our potential futures.

  With so much on the line, including his head in the event that his squad mutinied, Barin chose routes through the dead zone that allowed his Pen to test the vertical mobility of their assault vehicles. While the driver and crew enjoyed the jumps, he and the other vehicle navigators studied the medium-range sensors built into the recon craft. There were five squads, all with their own vehicles, spaced miles apart to sweep the area. He was surprised to see the sensors could push out farther when they were airborne. At least he had an excuse if anyone asked.

  Barin knew the area of cleared vegetation and earthworks was massive, but seeing it through the sensor readings really made him appreciate the size. So much work still needed to be done. The Auxies had only mined and prepped a narrow slice of the 71,000 square miles so far. He figured Colonel GG had chosen which area to prep first based on where she expected the enemy would come from. Barin was no tactical expert, but he couldn’t help but wonder at the extreme consequences of the enemy attacking early on the unprepared slice of the defensive pie.

  As Barin stared at the green monitor built into the passenger side dash, he could see the rest of his Pen were out there too. All their sensors fed into each other to reveal a larger picture. He was about to say something, when his helmet smashed into the dashboard as they landed on the other side of a trench. Punching his driver in the arm, he listened to his crew laugh. Barin took comfort in their joy. This life they were living was their second chance. They’d been saved by Colonel Scipio.

  Lance Scipio was their patron saint. While the Auxies understood Lance was just a mortal, he was as close to a deity as any of them could hope to attain. His benevolence and tolerance had saved them, and most of the Aux strove to prove that he was right to give them a second lease on life. Pulling his thoughts back to the mission, he linked into the vehicle comms line.

  “Drivers, pull back to my vehicle. Those bloody sensors are up ahead in the tree line, somewhere. No doubt the wind or a fallen tree has triggered them. The readings don’t make any sense at all. We’ll approach the trees in a standard wedge formation, never hurts to be careful,” said Barin. “Oh, make sure someone brings a toolkit. Probably going to have to rewire the blasted thing.”

  As soon as Barin finished speaking, his driver smashed the brakes and the vehicle skidded to a stop. Peeling himself off the dashboard, Barin punched his driver in the arm again before dismounting. Walking behind the open topped vehicle and standing in the shade it created, he waited for the other vehicles to arrive.

  When the vehicles approached, each of the five squads slowly walked toward the tree line. Their weapons scanning the shadows, while a single member from each unit used a handheld device to scan for the faulty sensor. With a wall of trees in front of them, stretching as far as the eye could see in both directions, the sensor was probably going to take some time to locate.

  Barin’s entire body jumped as a single carbine fired. He looked to his left to see a member of his squad was on the ground. Everyone else had taken a knee and was scanning the tree line. Figuring his squad mate had squeezed off a round before passing out from dehydration, Barin signaled a halt. As he walked toward the fallen Auxie, he fumed with anger.

  A negligent discharge and failure to hydrate. This clown is the reason Marines look down on us.

  Another rifle fired and the man to Barin’s left tumbled backward. He turned to the trees long enough to see shadows lighting up with blazing muzzle flashes. As he raised his rifle to return fire, he felt someone hit his leg with a sledgehammer. The force snapped his leg back and tossed him on his chest.

  In prior weeks, Barin had been taught to make him
self small when taking enemy fire. He made himself tiny on the ground as he startled into action. There was a hole in the right leg of his combat armor. His finger dropped all the way to the knuckle when he snaked it inside. The blood was dark red, not pink. His mind raced through his all too brief combat medicine training.

  Frakk! Angle body toward enemy to reduce area of return fire. Continue firing with strong hand. Use weak hand to locate autoinjector. Frakking breathe!

  Barin’s shaking hand plunged the tip of the autoinjector into the hole in his armor and his thumb compressed the button. A foam comprised of nanites, combat drugs, and clotting agents filled the void and resealed his armor. The dull pain he was feeling turning into a stinging, burning inferno, and he screamed as he hammered on his trigger. Feeling his heart beat rising, the pain began to slowly ebb away. The combat drugs were working.

  Knowing they were at an extreme disadvantage in open terrain, against enemies in the tree line, Barin took charge of his squad. Upon ordering the more severely wounded to their trucks and back toward their outpost, he stood and began scanning for targets to engage. Then he saw the source. A gun was almost floating next to a tree. Zooming in with his helmet reticle, he saw a furry tail gripping it.

  Barin knew engaging Hardits in hand-to-hand combat wasn’t ideal. But he also realized the trees would at least break sight lines and prevent them from being picked off one by one. Knowing panic was beginning to rise amongst his squad, he embraced the sharpness of the combat drugs and unleashed a war cry.

  “Scipio!”

  His words, amplified by his helmet, shook the leaves of the trees in front of him. Feeling his blood boil as the combat drugs continued burning within him, Barin charged toward the tree line. It wasn’t graceful, or all that fast, but what he lacked in speed and agility his heightened senses made up for with lethally accurate fire.