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

Page 22

by Rod Carstens


  “Admiral, we’ve known each other for decades. You know I would never come into your office like this if I wasn’t sure.”

  Istas could see Usiche shift gears in front of her. She was now working the problem instead of being stunned by the news.

  “Do you have any idea how? Could we slow it or stop it?”

  “No to both questions. I have my whole staff working on it. As you know, we’ve been working the artificial-wormhole problem since Rift. We are still analyzing the data your Marines brought back from 703. It has helped tremendously, but we are nowhere near developing anything that could stop or even affect the closing.”

  “Sit down, Darryon. I need to think.”

  Usiche stood and began to pace. Istas knew there were no good solutions to this problem.

  Usiche looked at Istas. “Could there have been a leak about the operation?”

  “It’s always a possibility, but I do not think so in this case.” Istas had worked closely with the planners on security during the run-up to the operation. The security had been airtight this time. She honestly did not think there could have been a leak.

  Usiche stared at her for a moment before she said, “Does Admiral Grogan know?”

  “Unknown. You know better than I do that she would have patrols throughout the system. They might have noticed the change.”

  “How long do we have, Darryon?”

  “Days at most,” Darryon replied.

  Admiral Raurk sat down at her desk and pulled up a mission spreadsheet for the operation. She stared at it for some time. From her face, Istas saw that the news was not good.

  “The last communication I had from them said that they were meeting stiff resistance on the planet. Grogan reported they had not encountered any Xotoli naval activity. So her primary mission was support of the invasion and patrolling the system. Sand felt confident he would take the planet eventually. If he hasn’t committed his reserves, only a portion of his troops will be on the surface.”

  Usiche paused. Istas knew what she was about to say, and it was something no commander ever wanted to say.

  “We could order them out immediately and leave the troops on Chika. If we don’t try and get as many ships and troops out of Sui-Ren as we can, they’ll all be trapped there. We cut our losses to those left planetside.”

  Usiche seemed to age years with the weight of this decision. She turned and looked at Dr. Moses.

  “Do you have even the faintest idea how we might stop it or give ourselves more time?”

  Dr. Moses’s shoulders sagged, and he rubbed his face with a big hand before he answered, “No, Admiral. I’ve got nothing.”

  Usiche stood there for a moment, her head down as she made her decision. She looked up at Dr. Moses and said, “Doctor, get back to your work and find me something so I don’t have to leave those Marines.”

  Dr. Moses immediately stood, turned, and went to the door. He paused and looked over his shoulder and said, “I wish to God I never had to bring you this news.”

  “Me too, Darryon. Now go.”

  Usiche sat down at her desk and quickly typed out the message ordering Grogan to leave the system immediately. She hit send and it was transmitted over the most secure lines in the Confederation.

  “We need to find out if there was a leak or if this is just good strategy,” Usiche said.

  “Good strategy?” Istas said, puzzled.

  “Yes. If you know you have engaged the main body of your enemy and you can keep them engaged while you move around their flank, leaving them cut off, without reinforcements or resupply they will eventually wilt on the vine. You don’t try and defeat them. Just leave them out there without supplies while you move onto a bigger prize.”

  “The bigger prize?” Istas said.

  “Sol.”

  Istas was shocked she had not put this together. It was a classic strategy of war.

  “If there was a leak, then they will be here sooner than if this was good war fighting on the fly. We need to find out which it was. We need to pay a visit to Raina.”

  “She won’t talk, but we may get a read on what she knew,” Istas replied.

  “Correct.”

  “Where are they now?”

  Istas touched her bracelet, and a holo from her agents keeping track of Raina’s movements appeared. Istas looked up at Usiche before she said, “She is at Kat Von Fleet’s for a private dinner.”

  Istas watched the admiral’s face harden as she realized just how far this Von Fleet connection was going to go. Usiche reached down and touched her desk.

  “I want my car and a squad of Marines immediately. We leave in five minutes.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Usiche looked at Istas for moment before she said, “Give me a cigarette. We’ll pick up Netis on the way to Kat’s.”

  Istas gave the admiral a cigarette then lit one herself.

  “There are days I wish I had never put this uniform on,” Usiche said.

  Istas knew how she felt.

  Sui-Ren System

  Chika

  Naval Special Warfare Squadron

  Mike Boat 79

  Chief Petty Officer Zenes Lee pulled the Mike boat up hard out of its guns run on the dry riverbed when another destroyer five-inch round exploded in front of them, sending up a huge plume of sand and rocks. Lee could not miss the plume, and as they entered it, sand and rocks were sucked into the engines.

  “Goddamn those destroyer guys! Would they fuckin’ coordinate their fire with us for once?” Lee yelled as he banked the Mike boat away from the plume.

  “In the briefing they said they would. I've lost comm with them again,” Odaka replied.

  “Well, tell them if I see him later I’m going to—”

  “To what, Chief? What should we tell the commanders?”

  “That we better comm with them next time. Now shut up. I’ll think of something when I’m not trying to keep us from crashing.”

  Lee glanced through his display at the Von Fleet landing zone. It was a hellscape of burning APCs, tanks, and robots mixed with downed troopers. He had no idea if they were going to be able to hold. LZ Rift with the Wolfs and Rifts was still under attack, but they were making some progress, and now that the dry riverbed had been cleaned out, they didn’t have to worry about their backs.

  It had taken a combination of the Mike boats and the naval gunfire to finally silence the riverbed. He had no idea if it had just been a robotic fortification or if it had been manned, but it had been hugely effective against the Von Fleet LZ. They had been at it for over an hour before the Von Fleet APCs could begin to land additional troops and equipment. With the reinforcements, they were beginning to make progress into the huge crater that had been their objective all along. He had no idea how far behind they were on the mission timetable. His mission clock didn’t go that far into the red—it had stopped trying to recalculate the new timeline. He heard Toland firing.

  “What have you got back there, Toland?”

  “More of those stupid VF robotic whatever-they-were-called. It was attacking the Rifts’ and Wolfs’ rear. Those damned things are still running around trying to find targets. Gee, Chief, I wonder why none of the smart guys thought the Xotoli would have weapons that would reprogram robots on the fly.”

  “Gotta admit that it is pretty fucking cool,” Odaka said.

  “Yeah, for us up here. But I doubt the guys on the ground know any jokes about those fucking things,” Lee said.

  Toland was firing again. “Those things are everywhere. It’s good target practice, and I like the way they blow up.”

  Lee pulled the ship up and began to orbit, waiting for the next opportunity to make a run on the LZs. He had completed his first orbit when Toland said, “Chief, could you go back over the dune field? I thought I saw something.”

  “’Brids?”

  “I’m not sure, so let’s stay nice and high.”

  Lee banked the ship around and reduced the speed so Toland could ge
t a good look.

  “Well?”

  “Unless I’m seeing things, I think there is a platoon-sized unit stuck out here all by itself. If you come back around and approach from what will be your four o’clock, I think you can see them.”

  Lee banked the ship around, rotated the engines, and slowed the speed down. Sure enough, he could see what looked like a platoon-sized unit in a perimeter defense with hybrids attacking them in force.

  “What in the fuck are they doing out here all by their lonesome? They are in some deep shit,” Odaka said.

  “If I remember my briefing right, the first wave of Von Fleet units were supposed to take each flank of the crater. Looks like these guys were just doing their jobs when no one else did.”

  “Boss, they got more company than they can handle. They need some help,” Toland said.

  “Where? Don’t just say something like that without a direction!” Lee snapped.

  “Your six o’clock.”

  Lee spun the ship around but saw nothing except the dune field, with the dry riverbed just beyond it and finally the ridgeline.

  “I got nothing.”

  “Try infrared.”

  When he changed his display to infrared, he saw what Toland was talking about. The firefight showed up clearly. He saw at least a hundred hybrids down with more behind them. Now, out of yet another direction, he saw at first a few figures moving fast out of the riverbed, then tens of figures and finally hundreds. The Xotoli were going to try and overrun the Von Fleet LZ. Their numbers continued to grow.

  “Got them now. Odaka, get naval gunfire on that before they scatter.”

  “Roger that.”

  “Chief, that platoon down there won’t even be a speed bump to those ’brids. We need to extract them. They won’t last until naval gunfire can reach them. We need to do the dance on those fucking ’brids.”

  Lee looked at the additional waves of hybrids racing across the plain and now reaching the beginning of the dunes.

  “You bucking for a medal?”

  “Gee, Chief, I’m only a gunner. You’re the one who'll be getting the medal,” Toland said.

  Lee banked the ship and came roaring in, his minis firing. Odaka added missiles to the mix and Toland worked her mini. Hundreds of hybrids were ground up in the concentrated fire from the Mike boat. Lee pulled the nose up and banked hard.

  “Lock on! Lock on!”

  “Somebody down there has a shoulder-fired weapon. You on this, Odaka?”

  “Roger that.”

  A rocket streaked from the ground as Lee was coming around for another run. Odaka fired chaff and the rocket chased the chaff. Then he added a ride-along rocket that followed the recorded heat signature of the hybrid’s rocket back to its firing position. There was an orange blossom of an explosion.

  “Bingo, Chief!” Toland said.

  “Take that, you fuck,” Odaka said with real satisfaction in his voice.

  Lee dove again for another run. The metal storm roared into life, its orange flames lighting up the night as the red line of tracers ripped through the hybrids. Lee made two more runs, but the hybrids had scattered and they weren’t able to hit as many as they had with their first runs. The platoon was still there, firing their weapons.

  “Chief, they won’t last much longer. There are just too many of them. We need to make a pickup,” Toland said.

  “Have we got time?” Lee asked.

  “It will be close, but we might make it. They happen to have destroyers in the right orbit, so it won’t be long before they begin.”

  “Okay, tell them we’re going in.”

  “I love it when you get brave with my ass,” Odaka said.

  “Shut up. I’ll give you my metal. Toland, can you ready the compartment for them?”

  Toland would have to change the troop compartment over from drop configuration to a transport configuration, something that usually took half an hour. She had about five minutes.

  “On the way, but don’t wait on me.”

  “Hang on, here we go,” Lee said as he banked the ship and dove toward the dune field and the isolated platoon.

  135th Penal Battalion

  3rd Company

  First Platoon

  Fenes had never seen a Mike boat and what it could do. It had torn hundreds of hybrids into pieces, and in spite of that they still came. There weren’t as many though and now there were gaps in the waves. The platoon was firing as fast they could pull the trigger. There seemed to be an endless supply of hybrids. Even with the Mike boat’s help, Fenes didn’t know how much longer they could last. They had a number of casualties already.

  “Hey! Hey, uh, we got a ship coming in,” a platoon member in the rear said.

  “That’s not the way you report—” Striker said, then stopped. “I’ll be a son of a bitch. Somebody’s been living right.”

  Fenes turned and saw a Mike boat approaching their position, its engines rotating for a landing. They were coming to take them out of here. First they had saved their asses, now they were going to get them out. He had turned to get his squad organized for a load-up when someone yelled, “Hybrids!”

  Fenes turned just in time to see an armored hybrid jump over the rock formation in the front of their position. Without thinking he turned and fired. The burst caught the hybrid in the chest and threw him backward and to the ground.

  All of the lessons that Ura and the others had ground into him through the grueling boot camp suddenly came back in a rush. He didn’t have to think. He just reacted. Mati had taught him that the hybrids’ armor was good and you could not trust that one would stay down if you knocked it down with rail rounds. He jerked his axe off his leg, snapped it open, and jumped on top of the hybrid. Before it could move, he drove the axe deep into its helmet. Blood spattered everywhere. He slammed the axe back into it's bracket on his leg. He grabbed his rail and stood. Slowly he began to back away from the hybrid’s body his rail at the ready, waiting for the next hybrid to appear over the edge of the crater.

  He glanced back and saw the platoon moving quickly toward the rear. There was a large flat area between their dune and the next one. The Mike boat was coming down in that flat area. It was so close now, but Fenes knew if he turned his back and ran there was a good chance another hybrid would be on his ass, so he continued to walk backward, watching for hybrids and listening as the Mike boat got closer. A hybrid jumped over the top of the dune. Fenes knocked it down with a three-round burst to the helmet. He continued to back up.

  “You all right?” Striker asked.

  Fenes glanced to his right. Striker was organizing the rest of the platoon for a load-up.

  “Check. Is that boat down yet?”

  “Negative. Thirty seconds.”

  Suddenly Fenes was knocked to the ground by a blow. There was a huge body on top of him. Where in the fuck had this one come from? He twisted underneath the hybrid as Mati had taught him, just in time to grab it's arm as it raised it for a blow with a laser knife. He held it off, grabbing for something on its armor to get some kind of purchase so he could get some leverage and reverse the mount. He wasn’t finding it—that glowing laser knife was moving closer and closer. Then the hybrid’s head exploded and it fell limp on top of him. He looked up and saw Minga. She had seen he was in trouble came to help. She put out her hand and pulled him to his feet.

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah. Where’s Striker?”

  “Guiding the boat in.”

  “More hybrids!” someone yelled.

  Fenes and Minga raced to the top of the dune that had been the rear of their position. They turned and threw themselves down. They could now see the wave of hybrids racing toward the Von Fleet LZ clearly without any magnification by their faceplates. More and more of them were peeling off of the wave and heading toward them. The hybrids that had attacked them must have reported their position.

  “How long?” Fenes said.

  “One minute,” Striker responded.

/>   Fenes could hear the roar of the Mike boat’s engines now. Before it landed, the boat let loose with its mini-rails, throwing thousands of rounds into the wave of hybrids, literally ripping them to shreds. But they were in the back of the wave. The other gun runs had been too far away for Fenes to see the detail of what a fifty-caliber round did to a body, it looked literally as if the hybrid had been put through a meat grinder.

  More hybrids appeared over the dune. Fenes and Minga fired almost as one. Two hybrids fell, only to be replaced by two more. Then a third rifle barked. Fenes looked up to see Ardan standing over them, firing his rail into the hybrids.

  The engines of the Mike boat were kicking up a sandstorm as the rest of the platoon ran onto the ramp. The over the ships loudspeaker a voice said.

  “You guys planning on coming with us, or do you want to stay?”

  “Very fucking funny,” Fenes said as he and Minga stood and ran back to the waiting boat. Rounds from the hybrids kicked up sand around them as they raced for the boat, but Striker had a whole fire team kneeling and providing covering fire for them. Fenes ran to the rear ramp, then made sure the covering fire team got on board before him and Striker. They were the last ones in.

  The Mike boat took off even before the rear ramp was completely closed. With its nose down, it gained altitude. As it did, Fenes could hear the roar of the minis in the nose of the ship as they fired into the attacking wave even over the roar of the engines. Then the rear gunner was firing her mini and Fenes was covered with spent shell casings as they cascaded out of her weapon and onto the deck of the boat. He had to crawl to a seat, the angle of the boat was so extreme. He could hear rounds from the hybrids banging against the side of the ship as it rose. Finally, when they gained enough altitude, the ship leveled off.

  The gunner raised her helmet’s visor and said with a big smile, “Welcome aboard. Now that was fucking festive. I do hope you enjoyed tonight’s entertainment. Now if you will just relax, it will be a short ride to your destination.”

 

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