"Remember, the objective is to start an effective resistance inside the cities of the South, and I mean to make that happen. But first I want this mine in our hands."
Lahok rubbed his forehead and groaned as his left hand struck the Helion armoured helmet.
"I...uh...I thought the mission was to bleed Nakoma in the South? They will just set up another base. Why is this one so important?"
Khan laughed, that strange inhuman sound from before. He then ground one fist into the palm of the other.
"It means nothing to us, but it will mean a lot to your people, and theirs if it falls. They are winning, and you will take their fortified base from them in a few hours. When news of this gets to your allies, it will spread like wildfire."
Lahok didn't seem convinced. They were still little more than a commando team, and for some reason this Human thought they could perform two miracles at the same time. Capture a Red Scars base, and start a full-blooded and successful insurrection after every single one so far had failed.
"And the plan for bleeding Nakoma?"
Again Khan laughed, and this time his voice seemed to positively boom. His natural voice was already low in pitch, but when excited or angry, it could reverberate like a drum.
"Oh, don't worry about Nakoma. We'll make her bleed, and then bleed some more. By the time we're done, Nakoma will plead for us to stop."
"I do not believe this resistance plan will work. It will not even start if we fail in this attack."
Spartan feigned disappointment.
"You don't think we'll take the facility?"
"It is impossible. The Red Scars have taken control of the industrial sector South of the city, as well as the Deep Core Mining facility. You have no chance of victory with less than two hundred soldiers. You are outnumbered ten to one."
Khan struck Lahok in the back, right between the shoulder blades. The Byotai civilian almost passed out from the impact, and as his sight returned, he looked to the monster. Khan roared with laughter.
"Ten to one just makes it easier for us. Trust me."
Kanjana beckoned to the front of the craft, and the two moved away. At the same time, Khan laughed even louder, and as Spartan finished speaking with Kanjana, he joined in with him. Lahok wondered if he'd made the right decision coming with them. The laughter became so loud that he could barely hear himself think.
They are mad, all of them.
CHAPTER NINE
Southern Highway, City of Hyndla, Southern Depression
Commander Knaro leaned over the side of the raised highway and checked the distant position once more. Below him, ten metres from the raised roadway, a tower burned slowly. The structure was completely gone, yet something flammable continued to burn deep inside the core of the tower. As the heat in front of him warmed his face, he wondered if he'd made the right decision so many months ago to raise arms against the occupiers.
Too late now.
He looked for one particular point, but from here it was still too hazy to make it out. With no working portable radios or communications, they were all forced to make use of the more primitive methods of contact. The few remaining long-range systems were hidden in the city, where they were used in only the direst of need.
Is he ready?
The arrangements with the Human Major made him nervous, but contact with the mysterious Byotai agent, known simply as Uktakki the Black proved the strangest. Knaro had been so positive just hours ago, but now in the field, he felt that old doubt and uncertainty returning. It was easier as one of his rank and file soldiers; they could just follow orders and carry out the mission. People like Knaro, people with responsibility, got to see the big picture, and that was what really unnerved him.
Nobody had seen Uktakki and his famed commandos in over three months, and now this Human said he'd made contact with him, when even he couldn't. The Human promised much, but at such a risk to him and his comrades.
What choice do I have? But if he fails us, I will lose everything.
He looked back and lifted his eyes to the Northern horizon. The dust atmosphere reduced visibility to a short range. Large parts of the city were hidden in the dust, and those he could see looked as though they were buried in deep sand. That was primarily because most of the city was in fact underground, but also the fighting had reduced many tall buildings to dust. Only the strongest structures remained upright. Fires burned in a hundred places, many maintained by the remnants of the Byotai militia. It wasn't much, but it made the job of the Anicinàbe pilots more difficult.
If something does not change, the city is already lost, and with it, the whole of the South.
Commander Knaro turned back to check on his objective to the South. His mind told him the Alliance commander and his mercenaries could be trusted, but his gut told him something completely different. It was a never-ending struggle, and today he honestly had no idea as to the best thing to do anymore.
He signalled for his comrades to move to the very edge of the dusty road that ran beneath the raised highway. The shadows down there provided good cover to hide in and shelter from the frequent Red Scars patrols. Each was well hidden under layers of cloth and wore the looted armour, goggles, and weapons taken from fallen Red Scars warriors. They might have been mistaken for the feral clan warriors, had it not been for the considerable bulk compared to the more lithe and lightweight Anicinàbe.
"Commander, everybody is ready. Are you sure they are coming?" asked his deputy commander, Krotox.
"Yes, they'll come, of that I have no doubt."
He did his best to sound confident, but with each passing moment his doubts returned. He pointed to the sparse ground before them. Less than a dozen single storey buildings remained over the wide area, with dusty trails moving back and forth between them. A single road led South to small ridges almost half a kilometre away. He'd not been there for more than a week, but Knaro knew what lay on the other side, and it made him nervous. Every twenty or thirty metres a blackened wreck lay pushed to the side of the road, another reminder as to the dangers of this part of the city.
"Once we leave the safety of the overpass, there will be no turning back. We will have little protection from above. We must move quickly and get into position. Time is against us now."
Knaro instinctively looked up as he explained what must be done. The Red Scars and their Spires allies were masters of the sky. Like small animals, they lived in fear of their aerial predators that could swoop down and strike without warning.
"The militia are doing fine work. We can do this, my friend."
Krotox appeared appeased, for the time being.
"Then we should continue forwards."
"I agree," said Knaro.
He pointed off to the right, and with nothing more than a simple hand gesture, the militia moved away from their cover. Commander Knaro knew he had only a matter of minutes before all of them would be in serious danger. He moved to the second tower, and the open doorway that led down the spiral steps to the ground level. As he reached it, he glanced back to check his squad was with him. The militia soldiers groaned and grunted under the weight of their heavy kit. The weapons did not slow them down, but the clothing, sacks, and supplies needed to keep them alive and active away from their families.
"Keep the squad moving, Krotox. We need to get onto the ridges to the East and West before we begin our attack."
"Yes, Commander."
The other two squads vanished quickly through the rocks and broken walls. They were now under the overpass and in the shadows, just as the other two squads had been a minute earlier. Knaro checked on his unit one last time and then gave Krotox the nod.
"Move on."
The single squad of ten militia soldiers hurried down the dusty lane behind sparse rows of shattered buildings. They darted from the structures to ruins, desperate to avoid staying out in the open for more than was necessary. They made clanking sounds as their packs rattled about on their backs until finally Knaro gave a signal to
stop.
"What is it?" Krotox asked.
Knaro pointed at the pack on the nearest soldier.
"Everybody ditch your gear, weapons only from here on. We'll pick them up on the way back."
Krotox hesitated, but then passed on the order. It took a few more seconds to explain to the other two squads who'd already pushed on nearly a hundred metres ahead on each flank. Finally, their gear was free and stowed away behind walls and broken vehicles.
"Keep moving."
On they went as gaps between cover became larger, until they reached the long road marking the boundary of the main urban part of the city. Further to the South the ground dropped down into an industrial site that housed a massive and long defunct power station. The tall towers lay broken on the ground, and long columns of solar arrays were barely visible under layers of dust.
"The Hyndla Industrial Complex," said Krotox.
He looked back to Knaro and then rubbed his forehead.
"Do you know how many weapons they took from us when we lost that sector?"
His eyes widened as he asked the question.
"Too much," replied Knaro, "But we shouldn't have moved so quickly. We were over confident, and now we've paid the price. The Red Scars are organised, trained, and disciplined. We are none of those things."
Krotox began to argue, but Knaro cut him off.
"This isn't the time. If this mission succeeds, then we'll begin to change things...for the better."
The three squads moved further apart as they broke cover and rushed across the dusty roads to the lower ridges. The difference between urban zones and this more spartan region were painfully apparent. The entire place had the feel of a long dead site, abandoned to decay, fire, and the greatest villain of them all, time. Knaro took his squad up to the top of the ridge ahead and alongside a slight bend in the road. It took another three minutes to reach the top, and once there the ten militia dropped to the prone position and waited.
"Okay," said Knaro, "Now we're in position."
They were perfectly positioned to observe the old industrial site, the Southern approach road, and the ridges to the left and right.
"Looks the same as before," muttered Krotox.
Knaro waited and watched as the other two squads spread out on their allocated flanks. He'd brought the best three squads with him, and though highly motivated, only half had much in the way of experience. He'd lost a good number in the failed uprising, and had to rely on any volunteers he could get his hands on. Their field skills needed a lot of work.
"Krotox. Remember, the plan is to make a show of things. A lot of noise and fire, but we do not need to capture the site."
He grunted in reply.
"But we know the ore silos still contain weapons. We can use them. I do not think we..."
Knaro lifted a hand.
"No, we stick to the plan. The silos might be lost, but now they serve a new purpose. They will be the bait for this trap. Understood?"
Krotox looked back to the South and down from their ridge position.
"Understood, Commander."
A short distance away, the road passed through a broken fence and to a long row of tall silos. Behind them sat the disused power station, and from here it looked like a grotesque fusion of burnt metal, rust, and rubble. Along the road ran pylons, many of which were cracked and broken on the ground, leaving the power lines exposed to the elements. It was yet another reminder of the fighting and decay prevalent throughout this part of Karnak.
"What's that?" Krotox asked.
All eyes looked into the distance where an object flickered white. It repeated again and then vanished.
"Excellent," said Commander Knaro.
He then looked to his deputy.
"That, my friend, is the Uktakki the Black and his team."
Krotox opened up his mouth and exhaled, much like his species did when regulating their temperature. He did this three times before speaking, and from his voice he was surprised to hear this.
"Uktakki the Black Commandos, they are here? I thought he was..."
"Fictional?"
Knaro nodded slowly and then looked back at the silos and the distant power station behind them.
"He is waiting for my signal, along with his commandos. He will cover from the South."
Krotox seemed transformed by the news.
"Maybe we have a chance after all. We can use him to help get us close. Then we can take the entire zone from the Red Scars. Uktakki will end them all."
Commander Knaro’s eyes narrowed in frustration. Uktakki was something of an enigma, but he was also just one Byotai, perhaps not even the same warrior that had first used the name. Many, including him, speculated it was more an honorific name taken by members of his group of commandos by whoever happened to lead them.
"The mission, Krotox. Nothing more. The Black is with us, but he can only do so much."
They turned their attention to the road ahead. Just mentioning Uktakki the Black had clearly changed the mood and attitude of Krotox. Knaro doubted even the renowned gunslinger and mercenary could really make much of a difference in this fight. They were not far from the target, but with each passing moment they moved closer to the final battle. They watched the distant shapes of the two flanking squads waiting on the high ground. Like the rest of the city, this sector was a shattered remnant of what it had once been. Every remaining building bore the marks of artillery, bombs, gunshots, and fire. He leaned out from the side of the empty building and towards their prize. The soldier next to him pointed at the tall oval structure that reached up nearly five storeys high. Two small buildings on each side remained intact and bordered the road leading from the more urbanised part of Hyndla.
"I thought it was only supposed to be lightly guarded?"
The older soldier pulled up his goggles, revealing pale eyes and even paler reptilian skin. A dark black scar ran from his forehead, past his nose, ending in the middle of his chin. He opened his mouth and took several breaths to help regulate his temperature in this unusually warm environment. He might have been older, but there was an angry quality about him, a deep-set rage making him invaluable in battle, and a nightmare to deal with the rest of the time. With most of his militia either dead or in hiding, he now had to made do with whatever forces he could muster.
"Something must have changed. Look."
They turned their attention to a low column of dust. Several vehicles approached the compound and stopped just outside the silo. Commander Knaro lifted up his prized Alliance issue binoculars and examined them carefully. The column consisted entirely of local vehicles, but all bore the insignia of the Red Scars Clan. A few were protected by a modicum of armoured plates that looked as though they'd been torn off the sides of crates or storage units.
"This Alliance Major, he seems to have a keen sense of timing. That, or we have a new skill for turning up at just the wrong time. I hope he's right, or we will lose the last soldiers we have left."
He handed them to Krotox who immediately grabbed them and leaned out further from the building. The field glasses were an old, simple design that used glass lenses, much as they had done for hundreds of years.
"Take a look at the transport."
Krotox moved the binoculars until placing the transport centre mass.
"I see them. Fifty plus clansmen, and they're being handed weaponry. We should hit them...and quickly."
Krotox lifted a hand to issue a signal. Commander Knaro grabbed his arm and pulled it back down.
"No, you fool. Did you not see the vehicle behind it?"
Krotox snorted.
"No...why?"
It took a few more seconds until a few of the clan warriors moved aside to reveal a pair of six-wheeled Bulldogs. They looked different to the mixture of Byotai and Anicinàbe tech that littered the planet. The Byotai used rather crude looking, but very durable industrial machinery, while the clan warriors of the Anicinàbe relied on lighter, more agile such as aerial gunships or
their odd assortment of animals. The Bulldog was based around a smooth, v-shaped hull, with an angular front and three pairs of bulbous wheels. Wire deflection frames ran along both flanks to protect it from shaped charges, and a number of small glass plates marked the position of a myriad of cameras.
"Alliance issue armoured personnel carrier...with heavy weapons turret."
He nodded towards the small motorised turret on the nearest of the pair. It sat silently, but with its single L56 Mark III five-barrel coil cannon angled downwards and off to the side. Krotox shook his head and grunted.
"Six millimetre, five-barrel weapon system. Robot controlled gun system, commanded from inside the vehicle. That is a problem."
Commander Knaro nodded towards the two Bulldogs.
"No, the second one is the problem. Look."
At first Krotox couldn't see the problem, not until a container slid to the side and exposed the single large turret assembled in the middle of the machine. It looked more like a tank turret, but sat atop the armoured vehicle.
"That is no armoured transport."
"No, that is what the Humans call the mobile gun."
The unit was in a different league to the small weapon fitted to the first. Krotox didn't seem too concerned, and that relieved Commander Knaro. His deputy might be a warrior of great experience, but he lacked knowledge of the machines and equipment used by their erstwhile allies, the Humans. Knaro had met a number of the Humans before the fighting, and he'd been lucky enough to see Alliance units in battle. That taught him one thing above all else; they were masters of warfare, and their equipment matched their temperament for battle.
"So they have a heavy gun. That tells me just one thing."
Knaro might have laughed, had it not been for the seriousness of the situation.
"Really. And what is that?"
"We take the gun system and use it for ourselves. Think of the damage we could cause. I say we..."
The howl of engines forced both of them down so they now joined their comrades in the dust. Something swept overhead, leaving a cloud of dust behind it. Krotox looked bitterly as the shape moved on towards the silos, but Knaro appeared quite content.
Battle for Karnak (Star Crusades: Mercenaries, Book 4) Page 14
