The Conscripts: Fight or Die (Blood War Book 3)

by Rod Carstens

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot, Toland.”

  “We’re in and locked down, Lee,” Lieutenant Taro said.

  Lee reached over and touched the rear hatch control to close and lock the rear troop ramp.

  “We are closed and have a good atmosphere seal,” Odaka reported.

  “Roger that. Here we go,” Lee said. He brought the engines up to prelaunch idle then switched frequencies to the Tarawa’s flight control. “This is Dragon One, are ready to taxi.”

  “Wait one, Dragon One. Dragon Eight is still loading. We have not started depressurization yet.”

  They couldn’t open the huge hangar-bay doors until the last of the first flight of ships was closed and sealed or the loss of atmosphere could be catastrophic. Lee glanced at the mission clock. They weren’t behind schedule, but if they didn’t get off soon they would have to adjust their speed and entry to make up for the lost time. Planets had a tendency to continue to rotate even when you were late in taking off.

  “Dragon One, you are now cleared. Hangar-bay doors opening.”

  “Roger that. This is Dragon One to first flight. On my mark.”

  The huge hanger doors slowly opened. The pressurized atmosphere vented into space in a hurricane of forgotten tools and checklists. It seemed that no matter how careful everyone was there was always items left on the hanger deck.

  Lee gently applied power to Dragon One. It rose into a hover above the hangar deck. Lee pushed the throttle forward. The engines on the wings rotated, and Dragon One moved across the deck and into space, followed by the rest of the first flight. Lee loved these first moments in space. He was now in complete control of his ship and his fate.

  “The rest of the flight is in position,” Odaka said.

  Lee glanced at the rest of the flight. They were spread out behind him in four Vs, with four ships in each V. His V was carrying Alpha Company, and the rest of the flight carried the other companies and the heavy weapons platoon of the Raider battalion.

  Lee was the senior chief and lead pilot of the flight. Chika filled the display in front of him. Superimposed on its image was a green flexible rectangle leading downward to the planet’s surface and their drop zone. Lee put the nose of the ship in the center of the rectangle and slid into the ship into the center of the rectangle for their entry angle.

  “Tarawa, we are in the box.”

  “Understand, Dragon One. Good luck.”

  Lee glanced at the rest of the three ships in his flight. They were all in perfect position. The other flights were following.

  “We are all green,” Odaka said, scanning the instruments.

  “Roger that.”

  The reddish surface of Chika began to grow in his display as they entered the outer atmosphere of the planet. The nose of his ship began to glow a molten orange as the friction from the atmosphere grew. The heat shield had two purposes it was designed for protection as well as for confusion it would to disintegrate as they entered the atmosphere. As it burned off, the shield shed pieces that would produce a cloud of debris that would make targeting difficult for weapons systems trying to sort the real targets out as they made their entry. During the ramp-up to this mission, the engineers had shown Lee and the rest of the crews what a combat entry looked like to a weapons system operator trying to separate the chaff from the ships. It was almost impossible. There were literally hundreds of returns on their scopes, all moving in the same direction. Lee hoped the Xotolis’ targeting computers weren’t any better than the Confederation’s, because his life depended on it.

  “We are beginning to take fire,” Odaka said.

  “What kind?”

  “Laser fire. Right now it’s concentrated on the third flight.”

  “Any hits?”

  “Negative. I’m going to add chaff to our signature,” Odaka said.

  “Roger.”

  Odaka fired rockets that sped away from the entry paths of the flights, where they exploded and launched drones that had the same electronic signature as the Mike boats. Out of the corner of his eye, Lee saw one of the drones hit by a laser. That was too close for comfort. The ship began to vibrate as they entered heavier air in the planet’s atmosphere. She was flying straight and true. Lee had loved flying the ship from the first day he’d taken his first qualification flights, and now she was proving herself in battle. It felt good to have a tough ship that flew like a dream going into combat. He did not have to fight the ship this time. He felt like he had a partner he could depend on something he had to fight to fly.

  Their drop zone was on the night side of the planet. Lee could see a few lights scattered on its surface but no real concentration that might indicate a large complex. It looked like the intel had been correct and the Xotoli were just beginning to occupy and fortify the planet. A red flash, followed by another, streaked across their bow, headed for the surface. The destroyers in low orbit were pounding anything Xotoli they could find with their six-inch rails. The depleted-uranium rounds left glowing red streaks in their wake. A small cluster of lights suddenly disappeared. Lee could see reds and oranges of the explosion even at this height it was so large.

  Lee checked his angle of entry. He was still right in the middle of the box as the ship continued to track on their entry path. Details on the surface began to emerge as they dove deeper and deeper into Chika’s atmosphere. A snow-capped mountain just off the nose of the ship came into view. It had been one of his visual landmarks in his training for the mission. He glanced at the mission clock—it had appeared right on schedule, so the mission was right on time.

  It was going too well, Lee thought. He remembered one of the first lessons he learned as a pilot: when a mission is going exactly as planned, then watch out, because something is about to go very wrong. No mission ever survived the first minutes in combat. You always had to adjust and be flexible.

  The destroyers had found another target. Rail rounds flashed through their formation. The rounds struck the ground, creating another tremendous explosion. Then secondary explosions that dwarfed the original followed as the target on the ground disappeared in a volcano of fire and debris.

  “Looks like they got something,” Odaka said.

  “Yeah, but I hope those destroyer guys are watching their scopes. Those last couple of rounds were close. Low orbit is still twelve hundred miles. It’s easy to get sloppy. I would hate to end up as a lesson learned in the post-mission briefing.”

  The flight-path green rectangle was contracting as they approached the surface and their drop zone. Lee kept the nose of the ship in the middle of the rectangle, he checked his speed and angle everything was in the green. He glanced at his formation display, and it was good and tight—the other ships were right in their zones. The three Vs behind his were also in good, tight formations. The ship’s stick was beginning to vibrate more in his hands as they hit the upper winds of the atmosphere, but the ship was holding to its course. The new design was continuing to prove itself—the Mike boat was slicing through the upper winds with no trouble.

  “Altitude?” Lee asked.

  “One hundred miles.”

  “Check.”

  Then it was as if someone suddenly set off a fireworks display in the middle of their formation. Multicolored explosions blossomed in Lee’s lead V. Yellow plasma streaks cut through the formation, just missing Dragon 1.

  “What the fuck!” Odaka said. “I got nothing on the scope. Where did that come from?”

  “Think of something or we’re going to end up as space junk in orbit around the shitty little planet.”

  Out of the corner of his eye Lee could see Odaka scrolling through display after display, his hands scrolling through the setting for their defensive systems, then punching up new ones.

  “Fuck. It’s an orbital minefield. They’ve got hundreds of tiny mines orbiting around the goddamned planet. If anything enters the field they converge on the target. They’re coming from everywhere.”

  “Can you counter them?”

&nb
sp; “Not with any of our anti-missile missiles, but I might be able to confuse them.”

  Lee glanced at his formation display. There were two ships missing, one from the third V and one from the fourth.

  “We’ve lost two ships, Odaka. Do something.”

  “We are. I’ve already networked with the other ships. We're all running through the frequencies and sensor channels.”

  Another explosion filled the flight-display screen, Lee almost ducked, it was so close. He felt the ship shudder as debris from the explosion stuck it. Lee glanced at the flight controls and readouts. Everything was still in the green. Another explosion. Another ship in the third V disappeared.

  1st Raider Battalion

  Alpha Company

  First Platoon

  Sergeant Mala Nani sat tightly strapped into her drop seat in the back of the Mike boat. The ship was bouncing all over the place, but it was different than on 703—this did not feel like weather. It felt like ground fire. What the hell was going on? Oh, well, there was nothing she could do about it. So she did what she had learned so long ago: when you have no control over what’s happening, relax and let it go. Worrying about it solved nothing. She glanced at her heads-up and saw that her squad was all in the green. The systems on each of the individual Marines were working optimally. It was all she could ask for before a drop like this.

  The drop compartment of the Mike boat was blacked out, with only red lights illuminating the darkness. She knew that if the lights were on all she would see was the armored helmets of the rest of the platoon. To her right and forward on the ship was Kifle Elias, and just beyond Elias was Lieutenant Taro. To her right was Hu. He had the first fire team. Beyond Hu and his fire team were the other two fire teams in her squad.

  Mala had spent most of the last forty-eight hours down checking the armor systems on her squad as well as doing weapons inspections and skull sessions on the objective and their mission. She was tired. She couldn’t do anything about what was going on outside of the ship, so she decided to do what all good grunts have done since time immemorial: don’t stand up when you can sit down, don’t sit down when you can lie down, and don’t stay awake when you can go to sleep. Mala closed her eyes and went to sleep.

  #

  When Mala’s head nodded forward, Hu glanced over at her, then checked her status on his heads-up. She was asleep. It always amazed Hu how she could go to sleep anywhere, anytime, no matter what the situation. Sleep was the last thing he was thinking about.

  He wished he could just relax. He was, after all, just along for the ride, and there was nothing he could do about it. But that was what was bothering him. He didn’t mind the dangers of combat because he was in control of his own destiny. If he died it was either bad decision making or bad luck, at least he was the one making the decisions. He didn’t want to die because somebody else had a bad day or made a mistake. No, he would take his own chances. He wanted to face his own luck, not somebody else’s.

  He decided to go over their mission objectives again. First platoon was to be dropped on Hangar No. 2’s roof. They were then to clear the roof and the interior of the hangar. The hangar was in the middle of the V formed by the two runways. The rest of the battalion was to be dropped over the rest of the spaceport. The second platoon was to be dropped on the weapons shop and the administrative building. The two platoons were then to link up and clear the administrative building and what the planners were calling the control tower. They were not sure what it was, but that was what it looked like.

  The mission sounded simple, but nothing had ever proven simple in combat. This was largest combat drop ever attempted. What could possibly go wrong? Hu almost laughed out loud. He couldn’t list all the things that could go wrong, but the thing he was most worried about was getting out of this damned Mike boat and into the open. If he could just get through this part of the mission, he would be happy.

  The engineers had redesigned the drop ships after losing so many Raiders on 703 before they even had a chance to get into the fight. The battalion had made five different drops in the mission prep to test them without a single injury. That was one less thing he had to worry about. Now if they would open the drop doors and let him out of this damned ship, he would be happier. The ship lurched to the right then righted itself. He glanced over at Nani. Her head just rolled with the boat’s movements. Still sound asleep.

  He needed to do something to take his mind off the damned entry. For at least the tenth time, he checked his armor’s systems.

  Armor Interface: Optimum

  Combat Network: Green

  Heads-Up AI: Synced

  Medical Sys: Green

  Analgesic: 2 mg

  Air Supply: 72 hrs

  Atmosphere: Green Type: NegEW: Neg

  ECM: Jam

  PLRS: On

  Video: On

  Weapon Type: RC 48Amount: 3000

  Batt: 72 hours

  #

  Suddenly there was the sound of pounding on the outside of the ship, as if a giant was trying to beat the ship out of the sky. It woke Nani. She cringed, waiting for the ship to react to the pounding, but they continued to fly as if nothing was happening. It was certainly different from the insertion on 703. Maybe they had improved these things after all. Nani was beginning to have some confidence in these new Mike boats.

  Then an explosion threw her forward into her straps. Maybe not. After all, you can never trust anything when it comes to war—except that you can’t trust anything.

  “Two minutes. Two minutes,” Lieutenant Taro said.

  “Two minutes,” Nani repeated with the rest of the platoon.

  Nani reached over and tapped Hu on the forearm. She couldn’t see his face, but she grabbed his arm and squeezed. She had fought alongside Hu since Rift, when he was a fucking new guy. He had proven himself there, and despite being separated from the rest of the platoon, they had survived. Since then they had become more than just fuck buddies. Now they were facing another battle on another planet. They had come to feel they were each other’s lucky charms, so they’d decided on a ritual before each drop. Nani bumped fists with Hu. Now they were ready, come what may. She glanced up at the mission clock. It wouldn’t be long now.

  “Okay, I want a last green check,” Lieutenant Taro said.

  “First squad?” Staff Sergeant Elias said.

  “First squad,” Nani said as the first-squad sergeant.

  “Fire team one, all green,” Hu said.

  The rest of the platoon sounded off until all had reported in the green.

  “Pilot, this is Lieutenant Taro. We are ready for the drop.”

  “Roger that, Lieutenant. One minute. I repeat, one minute.”

  The red ready light came on in the troop compartment and the drop door flashed open. Nani was now sitting over an opening with Chita flashing past below her dangling feet. There were multicolored explosions, laser streaks, and plasma flashes. Nani watched hybrids on the ground fire up at their ship. It was a feeling she did not like, being a skeet target for a bunch of ’brids. She clutched her .48 to her chest more tightly.

  “Assume the position.”

  Nani crossed her arms over her chest, put her feet together, and bent her head down so her helmet's chin was on her chest.

  “Extend.”

  The drop seats extended over the opening and rotated so Nani faced the nose of the ship.

  “Stand by.”

  The ship was still diving toward their drop altitude. Nani watched, fascinated by the beauty of the multicolored light show as she began to recognize the area around the spaceport. It would not be long now.

  Sui-Ren System

  Chika

  Naval Special Warfare Squadron

  Mike Boat 79

  “Got them!” Odaka yelled. “Somehow they were reading the heat signature of our crystals. Then they had a lot of ‘check with me’ programming that created a swarm. They’re only about the size of a baseball. But we’re on to them now. We’ve g
ot them going everywhere but here.”

  Great, Lee thought. But they were down three ships full of Raiders. The green rectangle leading them to the drop zone was narrowing to the point that he wanted to see the Hanger 2. He upped the magnification for his window display, and he could see the spaceport clearly using his night-vision filter.

  The V of the two runways was clear, with a cluster of lights in the middle of it. Lee glanced at the mission clock. Five minutes. Good. They were right on time. Lee could see rail flashes followed by explosions around the port as the destroyers continued to pound the defenses. In the flashes of light, Lee could clearly see the spaceport with all of its outbuildings. He didn’t need night vision, it was so bright.

  They were trying not to destroy the port itself. That was the whole reason for the Raiders’ drop—to capture it with as little damage as possible. Lee adjusted the angle of attack, flattening their flight path to get ready for the drop. He had just eased back on the throttle when the darkness around the spaceport lit up with every color in the rainbow as the Xotolis’ ground defenses opened up.

  “Shit. I thought the destroyers took care of this shit,” Lee said.

  “I’m on it, Chief. Fuck, they got every kind of sensor, radar, and God knows what fixed on us. I—”

  The ship lurched as Odaka launched anti-missile missiles. The missiles flashed off the rails and raced down to meet those rising from the ground. Other missiles from the other Mike boats joined the ones from Lee’s ship. More explosions. Lasers pulsed green flashes. Plasma fire glowed different shades of red, and there were other types of weapons Lee couldn’t identify.

  “Going hot,” Lee said.

  He began peppering the spaceport with the new metal-storm rail on the nose of his ship, sending up to 250,000 depleted uranium pellets a minute into the maelstrom. He checked the attitude indicator—he was still below the artificial horizon. If he tried to bring the nose up too soon to avoid the ground fire, they would miss their drop window. He was just going to have to grit his teeth and punch through this fire, but he could yaw the ship left and right to spread the rail rounds around to cover more ground. He pulsed the metal-storm trigger as he yawed the nose of the ship.