by Danny Loomis
“Which brings us to our next business. I’ve appointed Lieutenant Perry as the commander of the Edoan Air Force,” he said with a smile. “He should be out of the hospital in three days, but asked me to pass on his first orders. Ian, you’re now Wing Commander, and will supervise the other pilots in our upcoming offensive.” Ian felt his face heat up at the round of applause from everyone in the room.
“Pointy, you’re being bumped to Staff Sergeant and will become our Scout Commander. You’ll work with Enforcer Nim and come up with a platoon-sized element of scouts. I’ll explain how they’ll be used in a minute.”
“Shit, Sir, Blade would make a better boss than me,” Pointy said, a look of disgust on his face.
Stanton shook his head. “Blade and Warrant Boudreau are the ones who suggested this. So shut up and soldier, soldier.”
Pointy rubbed his nose, a look of resignation settling in.
“On a strategic note, things are looking up. Ensign Wilbert has intercepted radio messages that lead us to believe the Ragnarok and a fair sized portion of the task force presently residing over our heads will be leaving the system soon. I’ve been reluctant to conduct surface actions due to the heavy blanket of vigilance the Alliance is able to put over this entire planet,” Stanton said. “There should be some easing of this when the main part of their forces leave. In concert with Lieutenants Gomez and Novak, plus two Elder Enforcers, we’ve come up with a plan of sorts.” He punched a button on the table top and brought up a holographic map of the continent.
“As you can see, Vanport is on the eastern seaboard of this continent. Two other cities only slightly smaller are within a thousand kilometers of us. We’ve decided to attack Alliance forces located in the closer city of Brookhaven. It’s five hundred kilometers away, and we’ll need attack shuttles to move forces to that location. They’ll tie up with the local Edoan forces there, and chase the Alliance out of their city.” He glanced at the map.
“The response from Vanport will probably be at least two battalions of Alliance troops to support what they already have in position. Once they’re on their way, we’ll conduct a raid on the spaceport with the Scout Platoon. Our objective is two-fold. Kick the Alliance out of Brookhaven, and inflict as much damage as possible to Vipers and attack shuttles.
Stanton called up a map of their immediate area. “For the second part of our plan, I want to put five thousand Edoan constabulary on the surface. They’ll work their way to Vanport and attack at the same time we hit them in space, which should be three weeks from today. We’ll start this force from further back. In fact, they’ll be staged from the mesa where we originally landed. That’s right next to where the new manufacturing center is being located. All of those troops will be armed with needlers and grenade launchers, as well as lots of explosives. We’re having several thousand thermal blankets made to shield them from anyone flying over looking for their heat signatures.
“Presently, the Enforcers are scouting out the best routes to ensure maximum security for this force. They’ll be broken down into units of one hundred, and assigned different sectors of the city to attack. Ian, we hope to have at least four Wasps on line for this phase. All eight functional shuttles are going to support the attack on the city. Any additional shuttles that come on line will be yours. This phase won’t go into effect until after the first part of our offensive, so you can wait until then to get with Warrant Throop for more details.”
Louis raised his hand tentatively. “Yes, Louis. Is there a problem supplying our troops?”
“No, Sir. Given the time we will easily have enough weapons for the second phase. It’s the first phase I’m concerned with. How are you planning on destroying the aircraft at the spaceport?”
“We’ll attempt to plant explosives on as many as we can before we’re chased off,” Stanton said.
“Warrant Throop and I worked up a shoulder-launched rocket to attack low-flying aircraft. We haven’t been able to come up with an adequate guidance system yet, but at present the ones we’ve fabricated can be used quite effectively on stationary targets.”
“I’m afraid to ask,” Stanton said. “How many survived the attack?”
“Four dozen. We’ll have over a thousand available by the time of the second offensive.”
“Man, oh man,” Pointy crowed. “I’d kiss you if you weren’t so ugly, Louie.”
Louis chuckled. “I’m afraid you might make my wife jealous with that kind of offer.”
“We may be able to make more of an impact at the airfield than I thought with these weapons available,” Stanton said. “Pointy, ensure your forces take all of the rockets. Louis, work on that guidance system for the rockets. If you can have it on the rockets by the second phase, it’ll help. We need all the air protection we can dig up. Are there any questions as to what’s expected? Good. We’ll reconvene here at 0800 tomorrow to finalize our plans.”
Later that afternoon Ian knocked on Stanton’s door. “Sir, could I speak to you for a minute?”
“Sure, Irish. I needed a break from this bean counting. What’s up?” He shut down his computer screen.
“I’ve come up with an auxiliary mission after my shuttle drops off the scout platoon near the space port. Four of us want to do a recon of the Alliance headquarters. See if we can find where they’re keeping Brita and Two Eagles.”
“Who’ve you got in mind to help? We’re short-handed as it is.”
“Blade and the fireplug twins. They were scheduled to stay back and assist in the training, sir. I asked Nim about this and he said they could get by without them for a couple of days.”
Stanton leaned back in his chair with a tired sigh, and laced his fingers behind his head. “I know your personal stake, give me a tactical reason.”
“This will be a perfect opportunity to create confusion within their command structure. If we can get into the divisional HQ, or even one of their brigades, the mission would pay for itself. Not only would we be able to knock off a few officers, we’d have a chance to collect some hard intelligence. If we were able to find Brita and Two Eagles it would be frosting on the cake. Plus the mission has an acceptable level of risk involved.”
“Okay,” Stanton said. “But only two days. Then you have to be back here. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. 48 hours.”
Stanton came to his feet and shook Ian’s hand. “Then get on with your planning, Irish. And good luck.”
* * *
An hour before liftoff, Ian watched from the back of the room as Pointy gave his new platoon its final operations orders. “This platoon is made up a little differently than most of you are used to. Edoan and Confederation soldiers mixed together could be a recipe for disaster if it wasn’t for the fact you were all hand-picked for this platoon. You’re the best of the best, and we’re gonna prove it tonight.” A quiet growling came from the mass of troops, raising the hair on the back of Ian’s neck.
“First off, we need to make sure there’s no problem with command and control. Each of our squads has a fire team of Space Marines or Army, plus a fire team of Enforcers. I’ve selected Enforcers as squad leaders for the simple reason this is their planet, and they deserve to lead the best troops on it into battle. Plus they could whip the ass of any Confederation troop who was stupid enough to go one on one against ’em.” Quiet laughter from the group signaled agreement.
“Each squad has a map of their zone of control once we attack the airfield. Try not to get outside it. You might get blown up or shot by a friendly. Once you’ve penetrated to within two hundred yards of your targets, you can decide whether to shoot your rockets from there or closer. Don’t take any chances, we need all of you back for the next ops mission. It’s a lot harder than this one, so wait until then to get killed.
“Vipers are top priority targets, with attack shuttles second. Any munitions or supplies you can destroy are third. Squad leaders, make sure each fire team has six rockets in the hands of your best marksman. You can split up your s
quad as you see fit, just make sure of two things: maximum destruction of equipment and personnel, and come back in one piece. Any of you shitbirds get killed while I’m boss can fully expect me to come huntin’ you so I can kill you a second time. Got that?”
A reverberating shout filled the room: “YES, SIR!”
“And don’t call me Sir! I work for a livin’” Pointy snarled.
As everyone filed from the room, Pointy hurried over to Ian, a sheepish grin on his face. “Always wanted to be called ‘Sir’ so I could say that line.”
Ian shook his head in amazement. “Pointy, you should fall in love more often. The leader is starting to show in you.”
“Ahh, shit. You’re the real leader in this group.” Pointy rubbed his nose. “I’m glad you’ll be gettin’ a chance to fly your Wasp. We’ll sure miss you, though.”
“Well, Platoon Leader, there was one thing I wanted to talk to you about,” Ian said with a smile. “Blade, the fireplug twins and I are going to take a recon after we drop you and the platoon off. We’re going to attempt a rescue of Brita and Two Eagles, if they’re still on-planet. So we’ll be in the city up to forty-eight hours after you guys are headed home.”
“I knew it,” Pointy groaned. “Once you get rid of me, you pick the juiciest assignment for yourself. Even if I can’t be along, I hope you find them, man.”
“Thanks,” Ian said and handed him a data cube. “In case you need me, I’ve put our tactical frequencies on this, and a map of our zone of operations. Once you tap in, you can update your map automatically. I’m doing this in case we run into any difficulties and need extraction. I got permission from Captain Stanton to do this, but I kind of bent the truth when I told him what a walk in the park it was going to be.”
“I already knew what you were up to, man,” Pointy said. “Ensign Wilbert couldn’t find you this morning, so she gave me information on a message she intercepted. Seems Two Eagles is makin’ a big pain of himself after escapin’ from those Alliance thugs. So I had an extra rucksack made up with equipment for Two Eagles in case you find him. I’ll make sure it’s on board the shuttle when we leave.”
Ian watched in bemusement as Pointy trotted out of the room. Damn. Phil was taking to leadership responsibilities like a wingbat to water. He shook his head and hustled out the door, intent on his own plans.
EDOAN HEADQUARTERS (DAY +62):
“Preflight checks complete,” Ian said, and flipped the last switch. Two nights ago he had led the Brookhaven force, ferrying them to within ten kilometers of the city. They’d been met by Edoan leaders who represented over two thousand fighters. They’d also brought back an unexpected bonus of one thousand needlers plus ammunition. Just his kind of mission, quiet and uneventful. Now it was time for the Vanport strike force to be inserted.
“Pointy, is everyone and everything secured back there?”
“You got it, boss. Even Blade and the Fireplugs are hangin’ on to somethin’.”
Ian plugged his helmet into the onboard computer and waited for the signal. There would be no rubbernecking of the terrain by him during the flight since everything he needed to see would be on the inside of his helmet. Usually this was displayed on the inner surface of the window in front of him, but with the advanced bio implant he had moved a generation beyond that level of technology. He was also able to tap in on all tactical channels as needed. This could prove to be a hindrance if he wasn’t careful. He was continually tempted to see what was going on somewhere else.
Ensign Wilbert’s voice cut through his musings. “Clear to launch, Ian. Good luck.”
He lifted the shuttle straight up on its improved gravitics, turned on the cloaking generator and began a slow trip towards Vanport. He should be undetectable long as he didn’t try to hot-rod it. He kept an eagle eye on the threat indicator, a device that would warn if they were being probed by any active radars. Not that they could see him, but at close range a good radar tech could smell you out due to the anomalies the cloaking field would show on normal radar.
Less than an hour later he settled down in a small depression five kilometers north of Vanport. With the cloaking generator left on, the shuttle would be well hidden for the next few days. Pointy had his platoon unloaded within seconds, and vanished into the darkness without a sound. It would take four hours for them to get into position, about 0200 in the morning. Once they attacked, two avenues of retreat were available, both into tunnel networks not yet mined by Captain Stanton’s forces.
“Blade, are you and the Fireplugs ready? We need to get into the city before the action starts.”
“All set, Irish. We’re on the south side of the shuttle.”
Ian finished shutting down, and joined them. “Let’s put on our ghillies now. Don’t want to get spotted this early.”
Within minutes they were on their way, only an occasional shimmer revealing their presence while moving quickly towards Vanport.
Just before two a.m., they found a place to hide during daylight hours. A tavern two kilometers inside the city limits. “The Brown Goose,” Blade said. “Not the name I’d of picked for a business.”
“Who knows,” Burbank said, “maybe they think brown geese are neat.”
“What a stupid thing to say,” Wells said, busily constructing a nest behind the bar. “There aren’t any geese of any color on this planet. How can they like ’em if they haven’t seen any?”
Ian smothered a chuckle at the pained expression on Blade’s face. “Before you two get any deeper into this intellectual discussion, do a security sweep of the perimeter one hundred meters out. Plant at least four sensors while you’re out there, too.” Without a word they slipped on their ghillies and literally disappeared out the door.
“They seem to be in top form tonight,” Ian said with a grin. “You going to last the next two days without killing them?”
“No problem,” Blade said. “They’ve been trying to get under my skin for some time now. It’s gotten to be a game with them, I think.”
Ian switched his tactical commo over to Pointy’s command channel and listened for hints of what was occuring. Minutes later communications trickled in from several of the squad leaders as they observed large numbers of Alliance troops quick stepping towards a line of shuttles.
“We’ll let these go,” Pointy said over the radio. “Everyone stay put until they’ve lifted off. Once the Vipers follow ’em, we move in.”
Turning the external audio pick-up to full gain on his helmet, Ian could hear the distant whine of several attack shuttles spooling up their engines.
“There they go,” Pointy said. “Not much longer and the Vipers should follow.”
Fifteen minutes later the screeching bellow of a dozen Vipers could be clearly heard without any artificial aid as they followed after the shuttles.
“Move in now,” Pointy said. “Hold at two hundred meters from the targets. Wait for my signal for the attack.”
Ian switched channels and listened in on the fireplug twins as they chattered back and forth, working their way around his perimeter. “Can that chatter,” he said. “We’re in a combat zone. Use the radio only when necessary. Be prepared for a light and noise show in the next few minutes. Pointy’s platoon will be hitting them soon.”
The front windows of the tavern lit momentarily with a flash, followed seconds later by a distant explosion. Instinctively Ian tapped back into the platoon’s tactical net, then reached out and was suddenly inside Pointy’s helmet watching the action through his helmet’s battle comp. Rockets streaked towards stationary shuttles and Vipers. A rippling line of explosions walked down the line of parked aircraft, setting off secondary explosions of ammunition. Scurrying figures could be seen retreating from the advancing line of Pointy’s troops.
“Pointy’s Pets,” Ian whispered, awed by his newfound ability to be a voyeur of the battle.
“What the hell?” Pointy shouted, his helmet tilting crazily for a second. “Ian? Where’d you come from? I don’t sho
w you piggybacking on the tactical net. What the fuck is happening?”
Oops, thought Ian, and hurriedly withdrew. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t know I could do a direct tap into your helmet that way. I’ll give you warning next time.”
“Shit, man. You scared the piss outta me!”
“I’ll explain later. Right now it looks like your guys are tearing ’em up.”
“Yeah, and it looks as if they’re gettin’ a little carried away. Pointy’s Pets, huh? Sounds like a good name for ’em. Gotta go, man. Good luck on your mission.”
“Thanks, Pointy. See you back at the headshed.”
Quietly Ian re-inserted himself into the battle comp in Pointy’s helmet and watched as he began to slow his attackers down and withdraw towards their pre-planned routes of escape. Fourteen Vipers and eighteen shuttles had been destroyed, plus three warehouses next to the airfield were on fire. Pretty good night’s work.
By now the fireplugs had returned from their scout, and set up their hideaways. Both disappeared behind the bar. “Sensors are on channel three,” Blade said. “I’ll stay awake for the first four hours. You catch some shut-eye.”
“Thanks, Blade. Think I’ll do just that.” He crawled under a table, unrolled his sleep pad and was asleep seconds after relaxing onto it.
* * *
Captain Stanton paced restlessly back and forth across the tactical operations center, until Ensign Wilbert tugged on his sleeve when he once more passed her. “With respect, Sir,” she whispered, a forced smile on her face, “You’re making everyone nervous. Either sit your ass down or get out of here.”
Stanton began chuckling. “You’re right, Anita. Thanks.” He moved over to the command chair and sat in as relaxed a manner as he could, a bored look on his face. “That better?”
She blushed and turned back to her console. “Much better, Sir.”
