“It’s worth dying for,” she finished.
“Your father knows that,” Dag said kindly. “And so does Alex.”
Aria stomped her foot in anger. “It’s just so frustrating knowing that they’re fighting right now, and we’re hours away from being able to help,” she said.
“You know your father, Aria,” Dag said. “And I know my brother. They won’t go down without a good fight. We’ll get there in time. We have to.”
30
Blood was flowing freely from Captain Beaurigar’s arm where a bayonet affixed to a Dommie machine gun had stabbed him ten minutes before. The Dominion had attacked in force up the ravine, trying to plow their way up the banks of the river while assaulting the left wing of the defensive formation. The fighting had been fierce and had devolved to hand-to-hand battles with the Miravallians using their rifles as clubs or wielding hunting knives. The Dommies were better armored and trained for that type of fighting, and they almost overwhelmed the defenders.
Beaurigar had needed to lead men from the center of the formation to reinforce the crumbling wing himself and had slain at least four Dommies with small arms fire before getting wounded. He had fallen back, but not before blowing a hole through the head of the man who had stabbed him. The Miravallians had rallied, surging forward and throwing the attackers back. Beaurigar had managed to get to his feet and ordered a full salvo from his tank, mortar and grenade launchers into the retreating forces.
Doctor Dirks, the Harren Falls town doctor and the only true medic the militia now had, attempted to stitch Beaurigar up, but the captain ordered him to aid the more grievously wounded. He took the thread that Dirks held in his hand and with his one free hand did a halfway decent job of sewing the wound shut.
With the imminent threat passed, Beaurigar made his way over to the command tent which he had allowed to be repurposed as a field hospital. At least forty men were receiving treatment, and there was little that could be done. There were no hospitals in the Crest, and the militia had little in the way of first aid supplies and no one other than the doctor who could do more than apply bandages or sew stitches. Beaurigar had made enough field dressings in his day that he set himself to helping where he could.
With never ending astonishment, the captain watched as men received what treatment was available, some with more serious injuries that would probably soon prove fatal, and then picked up their weapons so they could head back to the line. If battles could be won on courage alone, then Miraval would certainly carry the day, he thought.
31
“You got it?” Aria’s voice came through the internal telephone as Dag looked into the terrascope.
“Not yet,” Dag replied.
“Altitude now five hundred feet,” Markov reported. “Ideal bombardment height.”
Their course had led them to the entrance to the Rock Maze and Stonewater Fortress, the latter of which had just appeared on the scope. Ordering Markov to hold position, Dag studied what he was seeing for a moment. A black, gray and red Dominion flag was flying above the parapets, which the Dommies had apparently spent some time repairing already. He counted at least ten soldiers if not more on the battlements and the surviving tower. There were a few more attempting to make repairs to the structure, but most seemed to be looking with confusion at their airship that had appeared out of nowhere.
Dag relayed the attack coordinates to Aria and then said, “The Dommies seem to be expecting us to say hello. Oblige them.”
“Happily,” Aria said.
The Intrepid’s cannons roared, the ship bucking with the force of the salvo. The shells pounded into Stonewater, collapsing the walls of the ancient fortress and detonating against the remaining tower and the fallen citadel, as a cloud of dust spurted high into the sky.
“Missiles,” Dag ordered.
A series of streaks left the batteries and cut through the dust cloud. Their detonation sent rocks and boulders flying high through the air before crashing down throughout the Rock Maze. Markov was already bringing the Intrepid around, and Dag was certain that Aria was moving her people over to the starboard side of the ship. As per their plan, the second salvo of mortars and rockets targeted both the fortress and the canyon walls that allowed for entry into the Rock Maze. The canyon walls crumpled and filled with tons of rubble and rocks, blocking the passageways for hundreds of yards.
The Dominion forces in the Crest were now trapped and it would take a lot of men moving a lot of rocks to get an infantry division through the Rock Maze now. What remained of Stonewater was somewhat less certain. The cloud of dust that hung over the ruins of the fortress did not allow Dag a clear view of the scope of the destruction, but given how much damage some Dominion rocket launchers had done when he had commanded Stonewater, he felt safe assuming that the fortress had been destroyed.
“Alright, Aria,” Dag said. “Reload all weapons, and then come on up here. Target destroyed.” Turning to Markov he said, “Get us back on course. Best possible speed.”
32
The order to surrender was going to come soon, Alex thought to himself. It was only a matter of time. The fifty men he had under his command had been reduced to thirty still capable of fighting, and he could not imagine that things were going better for Captain Beaurigar. Even if they were, it would get worse once the Dommies made it through the woods or through Alex’s position. The expressions on the men’s faces as they were constantly barraged by mortar fire was somewhere between shell shock and abject terror. Most of them had not seen action with the militia in their earlier successes at Belten’s Bridge, so this was the first fight for many of them. Which each subsequent probe against their defenses, although turned back, the Dommies grew bolder, and Alex’s unit grew smaller and more scared. The hammer blow was coming next- Alex was certain of it.
His radio man had been scanning Dominion frequencies, and chatter was going back and forth between some of the officers. They were speaking in code, but Alex felt like he had the general gist of it. They were coordinating a simultaneous assault on both fronts. The spread out militia would be smashed and left with nowhere to retreat.
Dag saw Torrace arrive as he continued his patrol in the militia’s confiscated jeep and reluctantly he flagged him down. Leaving one of the Honey Hollow volunteers in charge, he jumped into the back of the jeep and ordered Torrace to double-time it back to the southern front. The militiaman helming the machine gun mounted onto the vehicle was forced to fire several bursts into the woods to push back Dommie forces that were almost to the road.
“They’ve been makin’ it through fer about twenty minutes now,” Torrace shouted from the driver’s seat. “I told the cap’n, but he said there’s no one to send there.”
“We’re spread too thin already,” Alex replied.
“Aye,” Torrace agreed as they arrived at the southern front and Alex jumped out.
Captain Beaurigar was immediately visible, standing just behind the center of the Miravallian formation, binoculars to his eyes, staring down into the ravine. Alex jogged over to him as Torrace sped off back down the road.
“You’re not at your post, lieutenant,” Beaurigar said grimly.
“I didn’t want to put this on the radio,” Alex replied, feeling equally morose. “Sir, I’ve got the feeling the Dommies are about to hit us with everything they’ve got. The radio chatter-”
“I know,” Beaurigar said, not taking the binoculars from his eyes. “They’re massing below, only one thousand yards away, not even trying to conceal it.”
“I hate to say it, sir,” Alex replied under his breath, after looking around to make sure none of the militia was in earshot. “But we might have to consider surrendering.”
“If the Dommies would even accept it,” Beaurigar muttered. “Something tells me they want to slaughter the force that embarrassed them at Ava’s Gorge. Make an example of us.”
“All the same,” Alex led.
“It’s worth a try,” Beaurigar said. “I agree. I w
on’t sacrifice the lives of everyone here in a futile defense. We’ll just have to hope the Dommies are feeling magnanimous.” Turning back to his tent, the captain muttered, “I should be able to find something white to wave somewhere.”
“What in the name of the gods?” Alex said in awe as he stared down into the ravine. Looking to Beaurigar, he demanded excitedly as he pointed into the distance, “Did you see that?”
“What?” Beaurigar spat as his eyes followed where Alex was pointing and he pulled his binoculars back up to his eyes. After a moment of searching, a strange smile crossed the captain’s face and in an awestruck voice, he said, “Well, I’ll be thrice damned.”
33
Everyone on the bridge of the Intrepid was holding their breaths, as Dag kept his eyes fixed to the terrascope. They were passing over the southwestern portion of the Crest, a part of Miraval that was fully under Dominion control, and Dominion personnel were out in force. The area north of Carriage Cross had been fortified heavily by both infantry and armor, and the Dommies stationed there were tracking the movement of the Intrepid with curiosity. If word had gotten out that the Intrepid had been captured or the Dominion suspected their subterfuge, they had enough firepower below to take out an airship. If they were attacked, they had no choice but to run. If they counter-attacked, additional Dominion forces would be on them so quickly that they would easily be destroyed.
Markov turned them to the north and they started making their way up the Crest, the rocky, and impassable spires of the Quiet Mountains to their left and the cliffs overlooking the Averillian Sea to their right. They took no fire as the majority of the Dominion lines fell behind them, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
“There will probably be garrisons in Taylorville and Shell Tower,” Markov observed as he studied the map once more.
“Probably not many soldiers there though,” Dag said as he joined him. “They’re focusing their attack up the ravine.”
“Well, we’ll see that soon enough,” Markov said.
Dag nodded and then turned back to the tired looking faces that were sitting at the stations around the bridge or even on the floor. He had earlier suggested that they rotate men through the officer quarters one deck below to get some rest, but no one had volunteered their names when he asked who wanted to cycle through. He could not blame them; he would not have been able to sleep either.
The few hours it had taken for the fast moving airship to move into position had felt like days, and no one had said much throughout the journey. Now that they were close, Dag suddenly spurred his militiamen to action.
“Alright, we’ll be coming up from a lower elevation, so I want everyone except Markov on the air-to-air combat deck,” Dag ordered. “We take out their airships first, and we have to take them out fast. We can’t give their ground defenses time to target us. There are at least twenty tanks in that ravine, and they could do a fair bit of damage to us.”
“Understood, sir,” Kryski said.
“Once the airships are down, I want everyone to double-time it down to the bombardment deck and start shooting like mad,” Dag said. “If we’re lucky, the captain’s line will have held and the Dommies will still be within range in the ravine.”
“What if we’re not lucky?” Kryski asked.
Dag eyed him for a moment and then said, “We’d better be lucky.”
“Sir,” one of Craven Bluffs militiamen said suddenly, startled out of his torpor by a noise from the radar screen. “Something’s happening.”
Markov strode over, looked at the screen and said, “I’ve got three contacts. Two corvettes… and one dreadnought.”
“Everyone up to the weapons deck,” Dag ordered. “I want that dreadnought targeted first.”
The militiamen made their way quickly up the ladders to the next deck just as the radio squawked, “D.S.S. Intrepid, this is the D.S.S. Sky Wraith. Please state your clearance code and the reason you are in this sky.”
“If we don’t respond, they will assume us a hostile vessel,” Markov said.
“How long until we’re in firing range?” Dag asked.
“Three minutes,” Markov answered after studying the radar for a moment.
“Repeat,” the radio began again. “D.S.S. Intrepid, state your clearance code and explain why you’re in this section of sky. Failure to answer will result in your being fired upon, over.”
“Get target bearings to Kryski,” he said. As Markov began to relay the information, Dag picked up the radio and said, “This is the D.S.S. Intrepid, clearance code…” As he relayed a series of gibberish words, letters and numbers, he placed his finger on and off the transmitter button rapidly.
“Negative copy, Intrepid,” the Sky Wraith radioman responded. “Please repeat.”
Dag smiled and responded, “Miraval… surprise… damage… repairs needed… communications… intermittent… failing.”
There was a moment’s pause before the Sky Wraith responded, “Understood, Intrepid. Heave to and prepare for docking.”
“They just gave us the perfect excuse to show our broadside to them,” Markov said excitedly as he raced back over to the pilot station, turned the ship off autopilot, and started bringing the Intrepid about. “Firing range in ten seconds,” he announced as he brought the Intrepid to a hover position and then raced back over to the radar. He then picked up the phone and hurriedly relayed the new firing coordinates to Kryski. “We’re in range!” he then said excitedly to Dag.
“Fire,” Dag ordered.
The Intrepid bucked as the topside weapon batteries sent salvos toward each of the three Dominion ships. The lead ship, the corvette Sky Wraith caught the brunt of the first barrage and its starboard wing was ripped to pieces. The wing fell to the still smoldering ruins of Rainer Ravine and the Sky Wraith spun wildly out of control, before crashing into the sheer face of the ravine walls and detonating. Dag could see through the skyscope that the dreadnought was hit hard as well in the dorsal decks and the ship exploded in a billowing plume of dark black smoke that enveloped the massive airship.
“The second corvette’s still airborne,” Markov reported. “They’re firing.”
“Go evasive and get us back around,” Dag ordered.
“Right, everyone, hang on,” Markov said as he ran back to the pilot station and hit a series of switches and levers.
Dag felt his stomach drop out from underneath him and he held onto the skyscope to maintain his balance as the Intrepid dropped below the incoming fire and then spun on its axis to show its port side to the enemy. The ship was rocked as the bridge was hit by a missile and the Intrepid lurched awkwardly for a moment that lasted long enough to make Dag certain they were going to crash. Dag switched from the skyscope to the terrascope and saw the rocky hills of the Crest racing up to meet him, and he felt his breath stolen away.
The turbine’s thrust caught them suddenly and the ship stabilized. Markov raced once more to the radar station as the Intrepid stopped in a hover position, only a few hundred feet above the ground. The former Dommie Skyfleet engineer bellowed out the new firing coordinates and Kryski shouted his acknowledgment.
“Kryski,” Dag said into the phone as he saw the dual winged steel corvette approaching through the scope. “I want that airship out of my sky.”
“Aye, sir,” Kryski responded. “Firing!”
Dag watched as the port-side weapons opened up full and the corvette responded by using intercepting phalanx fire to try to shoot the approaching missiles. A series of explosives detonated in mid-air in between the two ships and Dag was starting to worry- none of their shots were getting through. The advantage of surprise was no longer on their side and Dag ground his teeth. Their entire plan was based on getting to the bombardment phase quickly. No sooner had that thought entered his mind, he saw a mortar round make it through the defensive fire and explode on the underside of the corvette, blowing a large hole in the ship’s weapons systems.
“Bring us alongside her,” Dag ordere
d Markov. “Kryski, reload and fire a full barrage zero elevation on my order.”
“Roger, reloading,” Kryski said. After a few moments, he said. “Weapons reloaded and ready in all respects, sir.”
Dag swung the skyscope around and saw the wounded corvette directly to their starboard. “Open fire,” he bellowed and the Intrepid launched a full broadside into the now defenseless corvette. A series of explosions lit up the airship, before a large blast triggered from deep within ripped the corvette in half. “We got it!” Dag shouted excitedly as he saw Markov punch a triumphant fist into the air and heard the jubilant shouts from the militiamen above. “Aria, get to the bombard deck,” he ordered over the phone. “Quickly!”
A moment later, as he was ordering Markov to bring them about to the entrance to the ravine, just over the town that had caught fire once more because of the wreckage from one of the corvettes crashing, he saw Aria and several other militiamen sliding down the ladders from the air-to-air gun deck and then moving down to the bombard deck. Dag moved from the skyscope to the terrascope and got his first view of the Dominion positions inside the ravine. They had ascended to within one thousand yards of the Miravallian position, but were bunched together as if preparing to make an all-out assault up the ravine. The Dominion tanks were located behind the infantry positions and while they had rotated their turrets around to face the single airship, they were out of range and their cannonade landed short of the Intrepid.
“Aria, elevation z minus one hundred feet, distance fifteen hundred yards,” Dag said. “Light it up and then walk it down.”
Guerrilla (The Invasion of Miraval Book 2) Page 16
