Fortress Beta City (The Sleeping Legion Book 2)
Page 31
“One Scent! One People!”
It was useless. The armored behemoths shrugged off sabots as they moved out of range. After her rage dwindled, Mavor called for a cease fire. The Janissary’s three eyes narrowed as she watched the gravtanks tuck tail and scamper off.
They will pay. All of them. With their lives.
As her blood cooled, Mavor slumped down into the trench. Sabots now rained down from the fortress walls, but the trenches the nefnasts had dug were deep and strong. Mavor and the 3rd Company Janissaries had spent countless hours stalking along the empty maze of trenches to close in on the fortress. The plan was for them to support the gravtanks in the final assault. The machines would blow holes in the walls and her Janissaries would flow into those voids and bring death. The plan was in shambles now.
Mavor knew this came down to a failure of the New Order leadership. Vendar and Tawfiq thought they could rely on militia for their armor and air support. She hoped to one day correct that error and inform the Supreme Commander of what she’d learned.
After scanning the field, Mavor realized their only hope was to charge forward and get under the guns of the fortress. They would be protected by the enfilade of the very fortress their enemies were hiding behind. It would allow the weakened New Order detachment to re-seize the momentum and possibly turn the tide of battle.
It was apparent that failure to regain initiative meant death for the Janissaries fighting outside the fortress. The Janissaries needed to bring the fight closer and draw the nefnasts out. Figuring out how to arrange the meeting would be difficult, but Mavor would deal with that later. First, they needed to get close.
Having reached a decision, Mavor passed the order down the line of her company. She gripped her carbine with her tail and took off running on all fours. Jumping from the trench and sprinting toward the fortress, she howled the New Order battle cry.
“One Scent! One People!”
Mavor could see in her peripheral that the Janissaries were following her lead. The worthless nefnasts above were thinning the pack. Regardless, Mavor believed if her Janissaries reached those walls they would be safe. Not only would they be safe, they would find a way to reap vengeance.
A single gravtank had managed to fire at the fortress before being stolen by the traitors. The entire section of wall was still heavy with smoke, and Mavor ran as fast as her four appendages could send her toward the haze. Dirt and mud ripped free as clawed hands and feet propelled her forward in a blur of speed and anger.
By the time smoke surrounded her, Mavor wasn’t sure how many of her company was left. Pushing forward, she saw the destroyed remains of a sally port. The wall looked to be fractured, and the sally port was useless, but there was no breach. Mavor howled in anger as sabots pierced through the smoke around her.
Then she saw it. Was it a gift from the great Death Bringer? Why was it there? Mavor didn’t wait for answers. Running forward she gripped the strange nefnast weapon. Turning the large tubed device toward the destroyed sally port, Mavor screamed the New Order battle cry and pulled the trigger.
— Chapter 89 —
Late Afternoon, Post-Revival Day 22
Outside of Fortress Beta City, Serendine
Commander, Operation Clubhouse Vengeance, New Order Army
Vendar couldn’t return in defeat – the only thing waiting for the Janissary would be torture and death. Surrender would be unthinkable. That left a single option: glorious death in battle.
The traitorous desertion of the air wing and gravtanks had sealed his fate. There was a brief glimmer of possibility that those in the tunnels might somehow turn things around. But the panicked tone of the Janissary he sent to lead the tunnel exploration didn’t inspire much confidence. Regardless, he had sent a battalion to assist. Better they die exploiting one last shot at victory than be slaughtered in a futile attempt at taking the fortress on foot.
Once Vendar had made his peace with his gods, he prepared for a glorious end. He would die like a Janissary, in battle, like the gods intended. Vendar’s mind raced as he questioned every decision he had made up to this point. Lost in recollection, the Janissary donned his armor, shined his rank insignia, then verified his weapons were in order.
Vendar grabbed his carbine and joined his Janissaries. It would be a long run to the fortress. He planned to use the known areas of trenches and tunnels that were declared clear to get as close as possible. Then, in force, they would swarm the drenting walls on foot. The flow of his fellow Janissaries around him brought him joy as he prepared for the final push to victory, or the glorious afterlife.
— Chapter 90 —
Early Evening, Post-Revival Day 22
Tunnels Underneath Fortress Beta City, Serendine
Fury Co., 15th BN, 88th RGT, 22nd DIV, 6th Army, 2nd Army Group, Akoni City Regional Army, Human Legion
As the day wore on, the tunnels First Sergeant Craig Tibbs and Fury Company patrolled toyed with their senses. Areas of pitch blackness would cause Craig to occasionally reach out and grip a wall just to remind him he wasn’t floating in the void. The night vision optics the Marines utilized relied on ambient light from stars, moons, and planets to amplify light. With none of those floating above or around, they had to use non-visible light shining from their helmets to amplify their field of vision. This resulted in harshly reflecting surfaces and a lack of depth perception.
Hours ago, the officers in Craig’s battalion had instructed the Marines to turn on their helmet lights to illuminate the tunnels and expedite their movement. Craig had to argue with them to change their minds. He knew a light at the end of the tunnel was a perfect target for the enemy. To Craig’s surprise, the officers had instructed him to take charge.
While Craig didn’t really want the positional authority they granted, he also didn’t want to die in some tunnel. The authority didn’t come without micromanagement. Constant pings rang in his ears offering suggestions and revisions in strategy and movement. Most of the suggestions revealed their lack of combat experience.
When the two columns of Marines all dropped to a knee, Craig almost walked into the man in front of him. Linking into the helmet reticle of the point element, Craig could see what they saw. He whispered into their LBNet comms link.
“First Sergeant here, hold position. Don’t fire, don’t talk, and don’t move. Point element, zoom in on that target.”
The Hardit seemed oblivious. It was shaking its arm and smacking a long tail on some sort of tablet built into its weird looking combat armor. The light from the tablet flashed, lighting up the toothy Hardit’s face. When the light on the tablet died out completely, the Hardit growled and began shaking its arm furiously. When the tablet didn’t turn back on, the Hardit sat down on its hindquarters and began tinkering with it.
Craig smiled. He figured this was some sort of Hardit scout. It also appeared the frakking monkey was having some technical issues with its combat armor. The Hardit now sat with its back to the Marines and was growling into its helmet. Craig assumed it must be communicating to a larger force and ordered the point element into action.
“Point man, you’re going silent. Combat knife only. Have the Marine to your left approach with a rifle in case the Hardit jumps you.”
Craig held his breath as he watched the Marine approach. It took the Marine a minute to close the gap, and only a second to shove his combat knife through the neck of the distracted foe. Letting out some gurgles, the Hardit slumped onto its side. The moment the Hardit was dead, Craig rallied his Marines into action.
“Listen up Marines. I’m guessing that was a scout. That means all his buddies are going to start wondering what happened to him here in a few minutes. Let’s make sure we gift wrap him for them, but also lay out a warm welcome,” said Craig.
The skirmishers moved beyond the fallen Hardit and started placing remote activation mines. One of the officers recommended positioning the dead body to look like it was taking a nap after eating. Agreeing, Craig added to have t
he Marines place some remote mines under the Hardit’s carcass.
Then Craig had Fury Company pull back just out of sight and use their combat defense kit to build polycrete walls. The Marines created a citadel where once only barren tunnels stood. He checked their firing ports, sectors of fire, and ran it through his AI’s simulator. The AI indicated they had maximized the limited space available to them in the confines of the tunnel.
Craig was pleased with how everyone in his company was performing, except for the officers. During the time he had been seeing to strategy and planning, the officers had been placing food wrappers around the dead Hardit. Of course, they had to eat the food first. Craig didn’t care if the officers had just been junior Marines a few weeks before.
Those officers are done when we get back to base, Craig fumed as he tagged the video of the idiots sitting on their butts shoving food into their mouths and talking amongst themselves. They aren’t even wearing their frakking helmets.
Sighing, Craig ordered a third of his company to rest while the other two thirds manned their positions, performing their routine tasks. Snagging the officers and pulling them to the rear, out of hearing range of their Marines, Craig spoke frankly.
“Sirs, during the time it took for your Marines to fortify, trap, and prepare this tunnel, you have managed to sit on your arses and eat ten pounds of food rations. Not only that, you removed your helmets. Understand this, these Marines are looking at you. I get it. Human officers are a new thing, and most of you are young Marines. Regardless, you set the example. If you want a bunch of chucklehead Marines running around without helmets in a tactical situation and eating food instead of working, keep it up.”
The group of young officers shifted their weight back and forth. Having nothing to say in their defense, Craig stormed off to rest. He tucked himself into the corner of a newly formed polycrete firing hole. Closing his eyes, Craig told his AI to wake him the moment movement was detected.
The shocks Craig’s AI sent came too soon. While he felt like he had been sleeping for seconds, more than an hour had passed. All around him, he heard the rustle of Marines standing and preparing.
Linking back into the forward most helmet reticle, Craig could see the Hardits had finally decided to figure out where their scout went. A cluster of Hardits crept down the tunnel toward their position. On all fours, the Hardit bellies rubbed the floor as their tails hung high above their bodies clutching weapons.
Craig could hear the excited Marines around him shifting in anticipation. While combat stimulants felt like a cup of extra strong coffee to Craig, he knew the young Marines were probably riding a wave of euphoria and adrenaline. He needed to ensure they didn’t blow their loads too early.
“Breathe, Marines. But don’t move and don’t frakking fire. You are weapons free the second those monkeys trip the dead body,” Craig whispered into the LBNet.
Praying the young Marines would be able to hold it together, Craig watched four Hardits slowly approach their explosive comrade. They moved very slowly. To his surprise, one Hardit walked on its hind legs and boldly pushed past those around it. The Hardit was snarling and growling loudly and pointing its tail at the trapped body. Before Craig could process the situation, the approaching Hardit plunged a knife into the bait.
Sound becomes a living thing in the confines of a tunnel. The pressure wave from the resulting explosion gripped Craig and pushed him backwards. Just as he peeled himself back off the wall, the point element started activating the rest of the remote mines placed along the tunnel. Wave after wave of pressure blasted into Craig. To him, it felt like victory. The sound of rockets being fired and Marines screaming caused him to reappraise.
— Chapter 91 —
Mid-Evening, Post-Revival Day 22
Tunnels Underneath Fortress Beta City, Serendine
1st Co., 5th BN, 8th New Order Janissary RGT, New Order Army
As ambushes go, Lieutenant Cossax Hoia-Naisa knew this one had been perfect. Supreme Commander Tawfiq had assured them the gods were on their side. Perhaps the gods didn’t bother coming to the tunnels today.
When the initial explosion had gone off, Cossax thought forward movement through the ambush was the answer. This resulted in a series of explosions tearing the front half of the Janissary’s forces to pieces. When the explosions stopped, a wall of sabots pierced through the smoke. Struggling to think, amid the sabots indiscriminately hitting Hardit flesh and polycrete walls alike, Cossax ducked low and moved forward.
Grabbing a missile launcher off a Janissary corpse, Cossax fired at the feet of the humans attacking his company. The Janissary fired seven more shots. Smacking the trigger with no result, Cossax threw the empty launcher to the ground and sprinted forward into the smoke.
The dead and dying nefnasts offered many gifts. Cossax rolled along the ground and snatched up three enemy HG-11c Machine Guns. Holding one in each hand, and one with a tail, Cossax channeled the Death Bringer. The Janissary howled as sabots ripped the human filth to pieces. They attempted to hide behind polycrete structures, but Cossax simply snaked a tail around the corners and reduced them to piles of bleeding garbage. Cossax stood and screamed the New Order war cry.
“One Scent, One People!”
Cossax was overjoyed to hear the war cry echo from the remaining Janissaries. They were fearlessly following their leader into the fray. Closing the distance, Cossax abandoned the machine guns and used knives. The nefnasts were kind enough to carry long combat knives, which the Janissary happily took from their broken bodies. With three knives, Cossax shredded the enemy.
Using a tail to sweep human legs out from under them, the Janissary’s three knives came down and plunged into their bodies. The human bags of meat were also useful as shields. Smashing a knife deep into the chest of one of the humans who wore a captain’s rank, Cossax spun his dying body around. The Janissary reached around and buried another knife in the human’s chest. Walking forward with the nefnast shield, Cossax’s tail reached around and pierced necks and heads alike.
The elated Cossax continued to stab gleefully. Again, the Janissary screamed the war cry.
“One Scent, One People!”
This time, to the Janissary’s surprise, there was no response. Glancing backward, Cossax saw no brethren remained. The glow of something blue followed by a whirring noise pulled the Janissary’s three eyes forward. Confused, Cossax thought it might be the gods coming to assist.
By the time Cossax realized they were assault cutters, the needles had punched a hole through his leg. Howling in pain, Cossax honored the Death God. The Janissary screamed the war cry one last time as his hairy tail ripped a grenade pin free.
— Chapter 92 —
Late Evening, Post-Revival Day 22
Tunnels Underneath Fortress Beta City, Serendine
Commander, 7th New Order Janissary RGT, New Order Army
Senior Scent Leader Talmadge tasted failure, and the Janissary’s paranoia was increasing with every solitary moment. Talmadge had sent everybody he had deep into the tunnels. Partly in hopes of victory, but also because he feared Sub-Commander Vendar would have one of them execute him. Alone, clutching the antiquated comms device, Talmadge listened to static.
Talmadge couldn’t raise anyone on comms. All the Janissaries in the tunnels had stopped reporting in, and Vendar wouldn’t respond to his requests for comms. In fact, the only thing Talmadge heard on the comms device was the mocking sounds of garbled static. Looking around, Talmadge realized all paths would lead to death. The panicked Janissary’s mind raced.
If I move down the tunnel, I die. If I leave the tunnel, I die. If I stay here, either the nefnasts or Vendar will come, then I die.
With a moment of clarity, Talmadge remembered they’d left Vendar’s XO behind the lines to prevent both officers from dying at once. Perhaps he could bully the XO into sending troops. Switching lines, he called the officer and waited.
By all five gods, don’t be more static, Vendar prayed.
“Gone, all gone,” the hollow voice said.
When Talmadge managed to shake the XO out of his funk, he again demanded more troops.
“There are no troops to send. They have all left, running to attack the fortress on foot seeking a glorious death or victory. The gravtanks and air wings have mutinied. You are on you own,” the XO replied.
“What am I supposed to do? These humans, they are demons, demons! I can’t kill what I can’t see,” said Talmadge.
When the answer was more static, Talmadge knew his life was over. Rather than wait to be captured and tortured for information, the Janissary grabbed one of his grenades. Activating the detonation code, he stared at the silver orb in his hands and waited.
“One Scent. One People,” he grumbled.
— Chapter 93 —
Early Morning, Post-Revival Day 23
Outside of Fortress Beta City, Serendine
Commander, 428th MER, Human Legion
Colonel GG’s joy at seeing the gravtanks defecting had been replaced by concern after hearing the sally port and wall under them had been breached. A Hardit had managed to finish the work a gravtank started. Instead of sleeping, the Jotun colonel was busy inspecting the damage from the courtyard. Spotlights illuminated the hole while GG made notations. An urgent message from Marchewka diverted her attention as his voice sounded in her ears.
“Colonel Gaarjar, a large mass of Hardits moving through the trenches has been spotted. There is an unknown number, but reports indicate there are hundreds. They have likely spotted the breach in the wall. Prepare your Marines for combat. May Tyndall guide your hands.”