Marines

by Jay Allan

With all my troopers in the trench I did another quick check and was stunned to see we hadn't lost anyone else. I took a few seconds to look into the complex. I could see Stanton's squad advancing on my right, moving toward a cluster of small buildings that looked like some type of storage. I couldn't tell for sure, but it looked like they'd taken more losses on the advance than us.

  There was a forest of piping and tubes in front of my squad - some type of refinery or something. Visibility was poor. The scattered fires provided some light, but interfered with infrared scanners. My suit's AI combined the infrared and visual data to give me a computer-generated enhanced image. It wasn't great, but it was a hell of a lot better than anything my eyes could have produced.

  I couldn't see any enemy positions, but that didn't mean there weren't any. There was a small metal shed that looked like some sort of control building about 200 meters in, and I sent team one to take it. The rest of the squad stood fast, providing covering fire and scanning for any enemy movement.

  They moved up out of the trench and started toward the building. There was some scattered fire, but nothing heavy, and within two minutes they reported back that the building was empty.

  "Team two, advance to the storage tank to the left of team one. Team three, on me!" I knew there were units right on our heels, so I leapt out of the trench and ran toward a dense collection of vertical pipes that would offer decent cover and a vantage point to get a look deeper into the complex. The fire was very light, and I couldn't see any enemy troopers until I was almost up to my objective. I saw him half a second before he saw me. He was running across my field of fire, clearly separated from his withdrawing unit. I whipped around my mag rifle and fired on full auto, hitting him with at least ten projectiles just as he was launching a spread of grenades in my direction.

  My shots ripped through his bronze colored armor and tore the top half of him to shreds, but not before the first two grenades were loosed. I paused for an instant to see my shots hit the target instead of diving for cover, and I felt myself flying through the air as the grenades hit just off to my left.

  I could hear the fragments impacting on my armor, making a dull clanging sound . My training took over and even before I hit the ground I was watching the electric blue numerals of the damage display projected in front of my eyes. Good...nothing penetrated my armor. I was unhurt and everything seemed to be fully operational. Damn lucky. Stupid, but lucky. If I'd hit the deck sooner, rather than waiting to see my shots hit I'd have dodged the impact entirely.

  I ended up face down about three meters from where I was, lying pretty much out in the open. There was a small crater about six feet away that would make a decent foxhole. I twisted my body and rolled into my makeshift cover, and then I scanned 360 degrees to get my bearings.

  The grenades had ripped up the piping where I had been standing, and one torn off section was billowing a vast cloud of something that looked like sickly green steam, blocking my view of the rest of the team.

  "Team three, sound off! Condition and location!"

  One by one all four of them responded. They were all unhurt and in position. That's good at least. Apparently I was the only idiot to walk into enemy fire. I ordered team three to hold fast while I checked on the rest of the squad.

  "Team two, report!"

  The second team ran into a few defenders at the storage tank. They'd taken them all out, but Anderson had taken a hit. She wasn't badly wounded, but her suit took a lot of damage, and she probably wasn't going to be able to keep up when we advanced. I prompted my AI to display the diagnostic. No, no way she was going to be able to keep fighting. Not without major repairs to her armor.

  "Anderson, fall back toward the aid station. Stay low until you get back to the trench. The fire's pretty light, but don't get careless on me now."

  She paused just a second, and I knew she wanted to argue with me that she could stay with us. But if there is one thing they beat into your head it's that you don't argue with your commander in the middle of a battle.

  "Yes, Corporal Cain." Her tone was dejected but firm. "On my way."

  Team one's report was straightforward. They were deployed around the control building and were taking sporadic and ineffective enemy fire from a ridge outside of the complex, just within small arms range.

  We were spread out in a semi-circular arc running about 120 meters from the storage tank, past the control building, to the section of pipes behind me. I was ten meters ahead of the line in a makeshift foxhole in the middle of what had once been a street.

  The refinery had taken a lot of damage, and up ahead of us there were a number of tanks that had been ruptured, and one that was burning fiercely, pouring a dense black smoke into the air.

  There were some structures that would provide moderate cover, but the approach to the ridgeline was completely exposed for the last 1,000 meters at least. If they were going to defend that at all - and it was the best spot to put up a fight if they weren't going to just turn tail and run - they could give us a tough time.

  Team 3 had the SHW, but I had given team 2 the SAW. I had a good view of their position from my foxhole. There was a walkway around the top of the tank that was high enough to provide a great firing position against the ridge.

  "Jax, get Himmer up on that catwalk with the auto-gun. You see that spot on the northeast end? There's some type of heavy equipment right there that should make pretty good cover. On my command I want that ridge hosed down with fire. Put one other trooper up there too, and you position yourself on the far side. Find yourself a decent spot, and make sure to keep an eye on the position of squad 3 over there. We don't have time to sweep this place carefully, and I don't want any surprises on either flank. I'm covering the right and you've got the left."

  "Understood, sir," came the crisp, clear reply. No hesitation from Jax. He was a good soldier, probably better than me. He'd joined the squad right after my first mission, and he was a natural from the beginning. I had the seniority, so I ended up taking over when the sergeant got hit, but if I went down I knew Jax could handle the squad every bit as well as I could.

  I had team one advance from the control building toward the edge of town. They had a row of low structures providing good cover, and it was only 90 seconds or so before they were in position. I was leaving team two in place to provide supporting fire from the top of the storage tank. Once we advanced on the ridge they would follow and form a reserve to plug any holes.

  I scrambled up out of my foxhole and dashed across the open street area to the cover of a large building that looked like some type of storage shed or garage. Once in place I ordered team three to follow me, and we made our way cautiously down the street in ten meter intervals, hugging the buildings on our left for cover. The structures were ugly as hell, dull gray plasti-steel mostly - drab, industrial, and half wrecked besides. The entire place was utilitarian and shoddy, and now it was a burning wreck as well.

  I was a little nervous because we really didn't have the time to properly sweep the complex. We'd scanned the whole area, of course, but between the fires and the leaking chemicals we couldn't be sure we hadn't missed anything. I didn't relish the thought of being ambushed from behind just as we assaulted that ridge.

  "Jax, I'm a little worried about what might be hiding out in these buildings. I'm going to keep your team back for an extra 15 minutes. If anything we don't know about shows itself, it's your responsibility."

  "Sir!" Damn, Jax always sounded so cool and under control. I wondered for a minute if he'd ever thought that about me, and if Jax's calm were as fake as my own.

  I had 8 troopers lined up along the edge of the complex and another 3 positioned to provide supporting fire. I coordinated with the squad leaders on each of my flanks, and we synchronized our actions. We each had our heavy auto-guns positioned to put the ridge under fire, and we'd give the order to open fire 30 seconds before we jumped off with the assaulting troops.

  I counted the last few seconds and gave Jax t
he order to commence firing. I could hear the distant high pitched whine of the auto-gun and see the stream of fire as it raked all along the ridge line. The auto-gun projectiles became superheated by the atmosphere and glowed a reddish yellow. I knew the fire was a stream of tiny iridium and depleted uranium darts fired at enormous velocity, but it looked like some sort of death ray from a space opera vid, especially in the darkness.

  My AI gave me a five second warning and I braced myself. Four, three, two, one. "Squad...attack!" We all leapt to the top of the trench and ran toward the ridgeline as quickly as we could without jumping too high and offering the enemy a tempting target.

  I could hear the auto-gun fire as it passed over my head moving to the right. I resisted the urge to scrunch my head down away from the deadly stream of projectiles. But I needn't have been worried. Our unit was well trained, and the gun operator knew perfectly well we were advancing below his field of fire. Still, it's an unpleasant feeling.

  But the support fire was doing us a world of good. With three auto-guns firing full out, whatever enemy troops were on that ridgeline were more worried about grabbing cover than shooting at us. My troops made it almost to the top before we took a casualty, and I think the other squads had similar luck.

  That luck changed just as soon as we reached the top. The enemy fire was still sporadic, but I had one trooper wounded. Wells. Her armor was holed and she had a pretty serious leg wound, but the suit had patched her up enough to stabilize things. She wasn't going to walk out of here, though, so I told her to find cover and wait for evac.

  Then the command coms went crazy. First it was Major Greene, who had taken charge of the entire assault brigade. Her voice was calm and firm, but I could hear the exhaustion in it. "Enemy activity south of the complex. Infantry with armor support advancing. Cain, Warren, Stanton - I'm commandeering your support elements in the town."

  Great. So I'd lost Jax's team and my fire support. I had seven troops left, including myself.

  Next on the com was Lieutenant Gianni, who was now in command of our company. "Activity on the right. Large numbers of infantry advancing from the wooded areas."

  I looked over, and at first I couldn't see anything. But then I could make out the figures moving forward in the darkness. I cranked up my visor to amp 20 and told my AI to clean up the blurry image as much as possible.

  It was infantry, all right. Not powered infantry, just troops wearing simple body armor. Probably militia. Hundreds of them. Charging the ridgeline off to the right of my position.

  And dying. Dying in huge swaths as our troops raked their lines with fire. Their armor, weight constrained by the need to carry the load under their own power, was no match for the high velocity fire of our nuclear-powered mag-rifles. Our shots tore them to pieces. I even saw a couple who virtually disintegrated as they walked into multiple fields of fire.

  They returned fire, of course, but their guns didn't have the atomic power source ours did, and they needed pretty much a perfect shot to penetrate our armor. Still, I suspected some of their shots were finding their mark.

  I had my six troopers deployed to receive an attack, and we were just waiting for the enemy to reach our fire zone when I got the fallback order from Sergeant Barrick. So whatever damage the enemy had managed to do, they must have taken out Lieutenant Gianni.

  "Alright, let's move. We're pulling out. Odds fall back 500 meters, evens cover." I was the second in line, so I stood fast and took some very long range potshots at the approaching militia while the odds followed my order and scrambled down the ridge.

  "Ok, evens. Let's go. One thousand meters. Now!" The other two evens and I raced down the ridge, stopping when we reached the edge of the town and turning to give cover to the odds.

  I wanted us back in the town as quickly as possible, so we wouldn't be withdrawing under serious fire from the militia. But the squads on each flank were lagging us, so once I got everyone back to the edge of the complex I formed a firing line so we could provide support as they pulled back.

  The squad on our left made it back just after we did, but it was clear that the troops on our right had been heavily engaged along the ridgeline and were having a tough time breaking off. I was just about the request permission to move back up and try to flank the militia attacking them when the recall signal came.

  It was code white recall, which was a directive to withdraw immediately to the extraction area. I knew what to do from training, but I'd never actually experienced a code white command. It wasn't a rout. Not quite. But it was close enough.

  "Alright troops, we've got a priority withdrawal order. Code white. We're going to move back through the town, using those buildings as cover just like we did on the way up."

  We snaked our way through the town, single file at ten meter intervals. We lost Tonnelle, who got hit by an enemy sniper just as we passed the main section of the refinery. My readouts said he was dead, but I sent the rest of the troops on ahead and crawled back to check. Yeah. Dead.

  I knew that sniper was still active, so I stayed low and hugged the buildings as I worked my way back to the outskirts of the town and into the trench line we'd assaulted just a few hours before. Jax was there along with one of his men, Russell. The two of them were the only ones who made it back from team two, and they'd had to abandon the auto-gun.

  The battle computers running command and control continually adjusted the communications echelons to account for casualties and automatically routed messages accordingly. Apparently we'd lost enough officers to bump me onto the main command channel.

  "Attention all command personnel, this is Colonel Wight provisionally commanding Strike Force Achilles. This is a priority one evacuation. We have hostile naval forces inbound from the Vesta warp gate. The fleet is bugging out before it can be engaged by superior enemy forces. You have 30, that's three zero, minutes to get your troops back to the staging area. Command control will download specific location to your AIs. Get your troops there on time, because in 60 minutes the last shuttle is launching, and anyone left here is SOL."

  Colonel Wight? She must have been six places down on the command chart. Seven, my AI reminded me without my asking. So things hadn't been any easier on the high command than they'd been on the rest of us. Actually, I found out later it was mostly communications failures that put her in temporary command. General Everest was killed, and Brigadier Simonsen was wounded, but most of the rest of the top echelons made it through.

  The colonel's voice continued, firm but strained. "Reports indicate that the enemy is putting pressure on us at all points. It looks like the hostile ground forces knew the relief was coming. We hurt them pretty badly, and it doesn't look like they have a lot of strength left, but it's probably going to be a fighting withdrawal for us. If we left rear guards they'd never make it back in time to evac, so we're just going to fall back as quickly as we can, fighting the whole way. Do the best you can, and let's get home."

  As soon as she finished, my AI chimed in and advised that I'd received our specific rally coordinates. They automatically popped up on my holo display. Hmmm, not far from where we set out a couple days ago. I got my little band up and out of the trench and across the field we'd advanced over a few hours before. We were lucky again, and we didn't see much enemy fire. The troops on our right - well, actually our left I guess, since our front had changed 180 degrees - seemed to be taking the brunt of the attack.

  I kept checking my chronometer and the distance to the extraction point. We were OK, barely, but we didn't have any time to waste, so I didn't even pause at the original trench line. We just hopped over and headed back the way we'd advanced to the front.

  The ground was torn up even worse than it had been a couple days before, and even in armor we lost time as we scrambled in and out of craters filled with neck-deep water and muck. The strength amplification of the armor let you power your way through the mud, but it didn't stop you from sinking in with every step.

  Twice I had to halt the g
roup so we could turn and engage enemy militia who had caught up to firing range. Both times we hosed them down with heavy fire and they broke and ran. It didn't cost us much time, but every minute counted. I knew those deadlines were real. If the fleet was really in danger they weren't going to risk it to pick up the shattered remnants of a strikeforce. It was brutal mathematics - marines were cheaper and easier to replace than battleships. They'd stay as long as they could...and not a minute longer.

  I was surprised that we'd managed to retreat back to the staging area without losing anyone. I'd been waiting for the enemy to hit us hard. If they'd have launched a major attack while we were all retreating, none of us would have gotten off-planet. But the truth is we had just about won the land battle when the recall orders came. The enemy wasn't hitting us while we retreated because they didn't have anything left to hit us with. For all the missteps and enormously heavy casualties, Achilles was failing because we couldn't hold the space above the planet, not because we couldn't take the ground.

  The rally area was a confused mess, with units straggling in from all directions and being loaded on whatever ship was available. Our group got hustled onto a tank landing shuttle that launched a few minutes after the hatches slammed shut behind us.

  It was a rough ride to orbit. The ship wasn't built to hold infantry, and we were just hanging on however we could. The hold was silent. We all knew what a disaster the operation had been, and while none of us knew exactly how this affected the overall war, we had a pretty good idea it was bad.

  We were right. It was bad. But I don't think any of us realized just how bad.

  Chapter Five

  AS Gettysburg

  En route to Eta Cassiopeiae system

  I was one of the 14.72% of the ground troops in Operation Achilles to return unwounded.

  Technically speaking, I didn't exactly return because the Guadalcanal wasn't as lucky as I was. She'd taken a hit to her power plant during the initial approach, and she was still undergoing emergency repairs when the withdraw order was issued. There was no way she could outrun the enemy fleet on partial power, so she offloaded all non-essential personnel and formed part of the delaying force, holding off the attackers long enough to evacuate most of the surviving ground forces.