by Isaac Stone
He had a better chance to see the landscape now that the column was no longer in motion. Craters were everywhere and proved to be death trap to anyone who fell in them. From where he stood, Harlo could see several water-filled ones, at least fifty feet across. They were full and it was impossible to tell how deep they were. In his disgust, he could see the remains of serval men who never made it out. If you traveled across the no man’s land in the dark, it would be easy to fall in, even with nighttime visuals. He wondered if the dead soldiers inside them were deserters who’d had enough of the war and decided to check out early.
As he continued to watch the gunbikes, Tulpa a noticed the lead bike rev his engine and begin to ride in a circle around the other bikes. As he stood there, he saw the other bikes begin to fire their engines and join the lead bike as it circled. Soon there was an entire corral of bikes that spun around in one big circle in the no man’s land. Even with the wet dirt from the recent rainfall, a cloud of red dust began to rise in the air. The other Volunteers turned to face it as they too could hear the sound of the engines when they sprung to life.
“Sargent,” Tulpa said to him. “We have a whole new situation.” He pointed at the cloud in the distance.
“Prepare to fire!” Bey roared over the radio. “Everyone hit the dirt!” He fell to the ground with his rail gun aimed in the direction of the threat.
Harlo dropped down the moment he had his rail gun in his hands. He felt the clumpy soil through his suit and made certain he stared through the gunsight on his rail gun. The stock on his shoulder felt firm and one gloved hand rested on the trigger. All he waited for was the command from Bey.
“Enemy is engaging!” Bey transmitted to command. “We are about to receive their charge on the ground!” He heard the channel click open on the other end.
“We see them, Ninth,” the voice told him. “We are sending you some help out there in the form of our own gunbikes and extra troops.”
“Grateful, Command,” Bey sent back. “We are going to need them.” Inside, he prayed the back up from the Force troops wouldn’t be too late.
Tulpa rapidly turned his head in the direction they’d came and focused his lenses to see fifty or so Force troopers swarm over the trench walls in their direction. At the same time, ten Olympian gunbikes sprang over the barricades and screamed in their direction. He returned his gaze to the incoming Sultanate gunbikes.
“We have to handle this one ourselves on the first pass,” he told Bey. “Our guys won’t be here for another two minutes.” He was down on the ground next to Bey, his body shaken from the excitement.
“Then you better pray they learned everything we tried to teach them,” Bey commented.
“Attention all volunteers,” Bey transmitted over the network. “We have help on the way, but not quick enough to do us any good. Today is the real graduation day, kids!”
Bey watched as the lead gunbikes headed directly at his Ninth. From his distance, he could see the Sultanate rider in his armored finery focus on him. Whoever led the charge could tell who to take out. He bet the rider identified him right away, but he also bet the man would try to pick off the less seasoned recruits before he engaged him or Tulpa. These Sultanate troops had a reputation for fierceness in the face of battle.
Just as he’d predicted, the lead bike veered from the straight attack and began to shoot at the Volunteers on the ground. He saw the dirt kick up all around him as whoever led the charge still couldn’t overcome the limitations of shooting from a moving object.
“Fire!” Bey ordered into the radio. “Let ‘em have all we got!”
The earth pulsed as the Volunteers fired away at the advancing gunbikes. The gunbikes fired as well and a new cloud of smoke remained in their wake. Harlo could hear the gunshots from the machine guns and rifles the gunbikes used against them. Thousands of small clouds exploded around him as the dirt was raked around the Legion.
He managed to down one gunbike on his third trigger pull. Harlo watched the magnetically driven mass punch a hole into the motorcycle engine and send the entire bike sprawling across the barren land. It spun across the ground on its own as the rider was sent in another direction. Somehow, the rider survived the fall from his now useless bike, but he ran to it anyway. The rider never made his destination as another bullet from a Volunteer shattered his helmet and turned the inside into a red cloud. He went down and didn’t move.
Harlo continued to fire at the circling gunbikes who shot back at them. He saw one of the other Volunteers take a hit and flip over. There was no way to be sure if the man was dead, but he doubted he’d survived. Several more gunbikes went down as the combined fire of the Legion opened up on them. One Volunteer made the mistake of standing up to fire his rail gun and was ripped in half by the machine gunner from an armored sidecar.
The gunbikes circled out of range but Harlo knew they’d be back for another go. He watched the lead rider gesture to the other riders and signal for another pass.
“They're not gone,” Bey transmitted. “How many we still have? Tulpa get me a count!”
“Squad leaders get a head count!” Tulpa sent out over his radio. “I need to know how many we still have with us!”
Still out of range, the mob of gunbikes turned and roared right back at the Legion. Once again, Harlo could hear the roar of engines as they approached. Even though the riders wore armored suits as well. He was certain the riders hooted battle cries at them.
The cloud of dust and dirt kicked up by the riders grew larger as the gunbikes approached them. The minute the squad leaders finished their head count, Bey ordered everyone to focus on the approaching mob of Sultanates. Harlo checked his rail gun and made sure the charge was on full. He sighted on the nearest gunbike as they came at them.
Then something else happened.
One of the gunbikes went down, sending its rider to the ground as the others swerved to avoid him. Then another gunbike was ripped apart by something else. Harlo was confused. Had one of the Volunteers opened fire too soon? Bey hadn’t ordered anything. What the hell was happening?
He turned to the south and saw the answer.
The Olympia gunbikes, flying the Force Syndicate colors, were already in position. They intercepted the Sultanate bikes and began to rip through their formation, shooting down Sultanate gunbike riders as they came. Harlo watched a Sultanate rider blown off his bike by the impact of a bullet fired from one of the Olympians. The Olympian gunbikes were smaller, but faster, and had lighter armor. They were able to out-maneuver the larger Sultanate versions and spun around them. In seconds, the Sultanate gunbike attack turned into a disaster.
Harlo never even had the opportunity to fire his rail gun the second time. Bey held off, as he didn’t want his men to shoot any of the Olympian gunbike riders who’d rode to the rescue of the Legion. He knew it was too easy to kill a friend when you were aiming at a foe in the dust of battle. He stayed focused on the gunbike swarm that attacked each other in the distance. Both sides merged as the roar of their bikes went at each other, but it was obvious the Olympians had the advantage.
Harlo saw the reserve troops charge across the bare dirt to the rescue. They were at least forty men who ran at full speed across the terrain. They wore the uniforms and body armor of the Force Syndicate and worked together as professional soldiers. The Volunteers cheered as they saw them rush through the crater-pocked landscape and come to their relief.
It was at that moment the lead bike of the Sultanate gunbikes made the decision to break off the attack. Harlo saw a rider in the front of the gunbike swarm wave his arm and point in the direction away from the battlefield. He spun his wheels and gassed the engine as it shot in the opposite direction of the where the battle had taken place. The Olympia gunbikes followed and gave pursuit until they were sure the Sultanates had left the field.
The battlefield was scattered with wrecked bikes and the broken bodies of the men who’d ridden them. Harlo watched as one bike lay on its side with a wheel
still spinning. More burned in the distance. The dirt began to drift as a slow wind came out of nowhere and swirled in the distance. It was eerie watching it happen through his suit. Almost as if you were the player and the game piece at the same time. The difference was that the piece on a board game didn’t shoot back at you.
Chapter 15
“What’s our final count?” Bey asked Tulpa.
“Thirty two KIA,” Tulpa informed him. “LeClair took a round in the leg and the medics will hand him over to the support column which came out to help us. Darnstein may lose his hand if we don’t get him back to the forward operating base. Toshne and Marching have some suit brakes, but they should be able to get them fixed. Other than those, we didn’t get hurt too bad, all things considered.”
“Thirty two out of two hundred, a surprise considering what we went through,” Bey replied. He looked up to see the Force officer from the support column approach him.
“You guys need anything?” the officer asked him. “It looks as if you took some heat from those gunbikes. Sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.”
“You need to take my living casualties back,” Bey let him know. “I have some wounded you need to patch as well. The rest of the men seem to be in good shape. Thanks for coming to help us. I was a little worried about those salties on the gunbikes. They almost took us down.”
“Like I said, sorry we didn’t get here quicker. Command seems to think the Z-boys weren’t expecting them either. I don’t know what they’re up to on the other side, but it could be a serious lake of coordination.”
“Or the salties trying to feel us out. Find out how we and the ZR respond to a sudden attack. They’ll be back so keep your gunbikes fueled.”
“We will,” the officer told him. “We’ll pick up the men who went down and head back. Command might be able to send you some assistance quicker the next time; they’re talking about moving more troops into this corridor.”
“I’m concerned they might leave the fortress for the mountain,” Bey said as he looked up at Pavonis Mons. “Look at that thing, nothing like it back on Earth.”
The officer and he shook hands. Harlo waited to find out what they wanted out of him, but no orders came right away. Bey made certain everyone had enough food and water before he resumed the march. Several times, he ordered a few of the men to drink from their canteens.
“You’ll look pretty stupid flat on your back from heat exhaustion,” he told them.
Fifteen minutes later, Legion Nine began its march to the Blue Lotus Fortress. They were a few men short, but knew it was far from over. They’d withstood an attack by seasoned gunbikes until help could arrive. But the next time there might not be any help at all.
Chapter 16
Lieutenant Babika stopped his gunbike and turned back to look at the Olympian forces in the distance. He’d taken a number of loses with this little skirmish and expected to hear the worst from his sheik. No, the general hadn’t exactly authorized a raid on the Olympians who crossed over from their position, but they were advancing toward the ally fortress. Something needed to be done about them and he’d taken the initiative.
Already his suit helmet screamed at him from the Sultanate base of operations ten miles away. He reached up to a switch on his helmet and turned off the channel from them. Right now, he had more things to worry about than the attitude of some martinet who owed his position to an uncle in the reserve army. He needed to make sure they all returned safely to their lines. This no man’s land was up for grabs.
“How many did we lose?” he asked his gunmaster. The man was a seasoned veteran of the Mars War and came from one of the poor neighborhoods in Cairo.
“Thirteen, sir,” he heard over the bike channel. “Those savages brought up their own fast attack unit,” He sat on his gunbike next to the one Babika rode.
It was a bold plan and might’ve worked if the Olympians hadn’t launched a relief force. He’d bet they didn’t have any gunbikes of their own this close to the fortress. For this reason he decided to take out the last group over the trench wall. Babika had watched them from the distance with his binoculars and was overjoyed when he saw the emblems of Volunteers who made up the legion. They couldn’t have the training or drive needed to be good soldiers. It should have been easy to swarm across the plain and annihilate all of them.
But he was surprised by their tenacity and determination. They held formation and didn’t panic, as he’d expected when he ordered the charge against the Volunteers. Still, he might have finished them on the next few passes, but the damn Olympians sent out a division to rescue them. When the regular Force Syndicate appeared, he knew it was time to get out of the fight. No reason to continue the raid against such absurd odds.
Oh, well, time to click the base channel back on and see what they wanted.
“Babika to base,” he spoke into the microphone mounted into his helmet. “Enemy engaged. We broke off the attack when they sent out more troops against us. Lost thirteen. Need to come back?”
“Outstanding, Lieutenant! Acceptable losses,” he heard from the speaker. “You managed to show the beasts we can strike anywhere!”
Babika tapped his helmet to make certain he had the right channel. “Colonel Aziz, is that you?” he asked.
“Of course it is! Now get your gunbikes back here, I have more uses for them. The ZR will think twice before it refuses our help the next time!”
Babika shrugged his shoulders and ordered his men to follow him back. Seconds later, his iron horsemen were following him on their gunbikes back to the base.
Chapter 17
They had to get across the barbed wire first. Harlo stood on the dirt and looked at the fence that stretched across the horizon. He noted the wire was repaired and intact. He would later find out this was standard procedure by each side. Since the fence was under constant attack, it needed constant repair.
Each night, a crew was chosen to go out and fix the wire from both sides. They would climb up on the dirt mounds and walk the fence line to make sure the wire was secure. Sometimes they would bring back a body caught in it. Soldiers were trapped in it all the time. Most of the evenings the sides avoided shooting at the men on fence detail out of mutual respect. However, there were some heated exchanges. This made the fence detail among the most loathsome for the combatants. The usual method of sending out someone to work on the fence was by drawing lots.
Right now, the fence was unattended. The Ninth Legion was at the first of the trenches the ZR troopers dug before they fell back to positions that were defensive. Beyond all that wire laid the Blue Lotus Fortress and control of access to the ZR territory below Pavonis Mons. He watched Bey stare at it and wondered if he would be the one to go at it with the wire cutters. Would they send him someone to shoot back at the ZR troops if they tried to defend it?
“You want me to get someone to rip that thing down?” Tulpa asked him. “No way to get around it. Unless you want us to work our way under it.”
“Too easy to get your suit caught,” Bey responded. “I have the coordinates for the wire and know a better way to get it out of our path.” He touched one finger to his helmet.
“I’m calling in an artillery strike,” he explained to the Volunteers. “We all need to be back at least a hundred yards. They’ll give us ten minutes to get out of the way.”
The entire Legion moved to a respectable distance away from the barbed wire and waited. Up until now, Harlo had never witnessed a plasma strike and looked forward to seeing how it worked. Most plasma weapons were huge and needed an entire crew to operate. They could vaporize anything on the receiving end. Glass remained wherever there was sand.
“Everybody down!” Harlo heard Bey command. “They’re ready to fire!” The entire Ninth Legion fell to the ground and looked up at the fence through darkened visors.
It only took one hit. There was no whistling sound of an incoming shell or buzzing of a rocket. The entire fence line in front of them turned into a miniature sun a
nd blinded the regular one that had emerged from the clouds.
The sun on the ground faded to a blackened form and twenty yards of the barbed wire fence was gone. The ground around it was black from the intense heat from the plasma strike. Harlo was amazed at how little background radiation displayed on his suit monitor from the strike. The thermonuclear plasma held intact long enough to discharge on the ground. It was beyond him how this was possible, but the effects were right in front of his eyes.
“Hold on the charge,” Bey transmitted. “The ground around that thing isn’t cool enough to walk over. Give it a few seconds.” He stood in front and starred at the wide opening created by the plasma hit.
Harlo held his rail gun in his hands and waited with the others. It wouldn’t be long now. He watched Bey stare at a monitor on his wrist. Just a few more minutes. The rest of the men started to fidget in their suit armor. He couldn’t hear them talk or cough, but the sensation was unmistakable.
“Now!” Bey yelled at the Volunteers and they rushed forward. Tulpa led the charge, something he was born to do.
The entire Legion rushed over the open and into the trench. Harlo felt his body carried forward by a wave of fighting men as they flowed into the trench in front of them. The goal was to get up the other side with haste and proceed on to the fortress. He almost fell down the trench as the wave carried him over it with the others. Instead, Harlo managed to control his footing and landed at the bottom, feet first. A few of the others fell over on the way down and were in the process of standing up when he landed.
He looked up and saw Bey already at the top of the other side of the trench with Tulpa behind him. The rest of the Legion climbed behind him, eager to prove their resolve. Harlo slung the rail gun over his shoulder and tried to climb up the trench behind them. He wasn’t about to let those two show him up. Hell, he was almost half Bey’s age!
