Esther's Story: Recon Marine (The United Federation Marine Corps' Lysander Twins Book 2)

by Jonathan Brazee

  Her AI kept track of the platoon coming through the swamp. The AI was only as good as the input it was receiving, and the legionnaires would be spoofing the Federation surveillance, but it gave her a 72% probability that the lead element of the legionnaires would reach the open bottomlands in 21 minutes. She forwarded that to the armor lieutenant—she had attended several briefs with him both in transit and upon arrival, but she couldn’t even remember his name.

  “How’re you doing, Sergeant Ngcobo?” she asked on the P2P.

  “He’s powering the ziplock up now. Thirty seconds.”

  “OK. We’re almost there, then. Remember, you can’t stop over those 50 meters. You’ve just got to haul ass.”

  “Don’t worry about us none, Lieutenant. We’ll be flying.”

  “Second and Third, get ready. . .” she passed, waiting for Ngcobo’s OK, which she received 15 seconds later.

  “Now!” she shouted, mindless that the AIs would normalize her volume over the net.

  Immediately, there was an increase of fire. The standard arms sounded loudly, notably the M449, the reports echoing off the rock face above the home. Esther rolled over and added the fire from her M99, the muted zips of the hypervelocity darts barely noticeable. She hoped the legionnaires noticed the incoming, though.

  The house blocked her view of First as they started, but after only a few moments, they angled from behind the house to dash towards the blind spot. Esther willed them forward as she kept firing, emptying a magazine. Once Marine faltered, went to his knees, and tried to get up before falling again to his face. Another Marine scooped him up to carry him to cover.

  Esther was too busy to note the name, but her peripheral vision noted with relief that the avatar went light blue instead of gray, indicating a WIA instead of a KIA.

  And then First Squad was clear. One Marine—PFC Yanghu, she saw now—was WIA, but the rest had somehow made it through unscathed. Nine Marines, three now wounded, were all she had to climb the hill. She contemplated sending Third forward. First had probably surprised the legionnaires, and they’d covered the 50 meters in about fifteen seconds. Third Squad was farther out, so they would have to cover 250-300 meters, crossing the creek, to get out of the line of fire, and the legionnaires were now forewarned. It was too much of a risk, and Esther wasn’t sure of the potential gain.

  One of the First Squad Marines turned and waved his arm back to her. A smile cracked her face—she knew it was Ngcobo. A moment later, the Marines filed into the tiny draw and were lost from her sight.

  “Sustained fire, sustained fire,” she passed.

  While the M99-armed Marines had several thousand darts each, those with chemical arms were more limited. Esther wanted to make sure each Marine was still loaded for bear when the Ngcobo launched his assault.

  She panned back her display to include the Aardvarks. The three vehicles were less than five kilometers from the turn-off. They’d have to slow down along the winding dirt road up to them, but she figured they’d be in position a few minutes before the first of the legionnaires reached the open bottomlands.

  So, what now? she wondered.

  She was the platoon commander, so she felt she should be, well, “commanding.” Her mind bounced back and forth like a canary in a cage as she considered her options. None of them provided any real advantage, and most put her Marines at greater risk. She squashed her desire to start giving needless orders.

  Another mortar round arched over the high-ground, but this time towards Third. Esther’s AI calculated the trajectory, indicating that it would hit pretty close to the squad. Esther held her breath, but the AI was maddeningly accurate, and the round landed between two Marines. If he was hit, Corporal Duerte’s bones did their job, and his blue avatar remained steady. Lance Corporal Spandal-Myrk’s avatar switched to light blue.

  The Legion mortar had been a thorn in the platoon’s side. It was well-situated over the high-ground above the house, and up close to the foothills to the east. Even with arty, Esther didn’t think it could hit the tube with the foothills providing cover. If their roles were reversed, Esther would be raining shells on them. The fact that the mortar team was spacing out the shells either meant they were limited in their ammo load, or they were trying to tease the Marines into rushing across the bottomlands. At the cyclic rate, even one of the Legion’s 90mm mortars could wreak havoc on Marines in the open.

  Esther was a combat vet, and she knew she was smart. She’d been honor graduate at NOTC,[2] having excelled in the field exercises. But if she’d made a mistake back at school, she’d only suffer in grades. Here, if she made a mistake, Marines would die. Three of her Marines were already KIA, Marines she’d barely met yet.

  “How’s your progress,” she asked the armor commander, despite being able to see it on her display.

  “We’ll be there,” the calm voice replied.

  She remembered he was a first lieutenant. How much time he had in combat, specifically in tanks, she didn’t know, and she didn’t have access to his service record. But like all armor officers, he’d been infantry first, so he had to understand her situation. Esther knew she should just shut up and let him do his thing.

  Esther’s mental trigger finger was itchy. She had to do something. So she rolled over to her belly and inched back up her little slope, M99 at the ready. She’d let her physical trigger finger relieve some of her stress. Platoon commanders were not combatants in the same way as a lance corporal was. They weren’t trigger pullers, something all of her instructors at NOTC had stressed. They couldn’t get focused on specific targets. But for the moment, she had to let Sergeant Ngcobo get his squad up that hill, so she might as well contribute to the volume of fire.

  She aimed where her AI indicated one of those damned chat-chats was and let loose 50 darts. She doubted she’d hit anything vital—the legionnaires had prepared their fighting positions well. Still, it felt good.

  “We’ve got movement coming from the swamp,” Corporal Westinghouse passed from her position as the far left fire team.

  Esther immediately swung her head to the left, dialing up her magnification. Four legionnaires were crouched at the edge of the swamp, one of them glassing in the direction where First Squad had disappeared.

  “Get fire on them, Westinghouse. Send them back.”

  Within a moment, a thump of a dunker sounded to her left, and she could see vegetation explode around the four legionnaires from the fire team’s rifle fire. The legionnaires ducked back just at the 30mm grenade detonated, sending shards of wood and muddy water flying through the air.

  Esther couldn’t tell if any of the four had been taken out, but they had been pushed back, which was her main concern. If they had spotted First and relayed that to the legionnaires on top, then the element of surprise was gone. But she couldn’t see the squad from her much better vantage point, so she hoped the swamp legionnaires hadn’t seen them.

  She turned back to the hill, and right then, saw movement, three-quarters of the way up. She zoomed in further. One after the other, the Marines climbed over something, exposing themselves before getting back into the crevice.

  Please believe First Squad is still huddled down at the bottom, waiting for reinforcement!

  The lead element of the swamp platoon was already in position. Her AI still gave her a 12-minute estimate for the main body of legionnaires. Four of them weren’t a threat, but soon there would be more. For now, Esther did not want them to have eyes on any of her Marines.

  She started to bring up Corporal Westinghouse again before realizing that she had bypassed the corporal’s squad leader. It was her right as a commander, but that didn’t make it a good idea.

  “Sergeant Daniels-Graves,” she passed on the P2P. “Have Westinghouse keep reminding those legionnaires that we’re here. And let me know when any more of them arrive.”

  For the next four minutes, nothing much happened. Rounds were fired from both sides, but almost as placeholders. No Marines were hit. Esther, how
ever, was getting more nervous in a way she’d never felt as an enlisted Marine. While her forces were maneuvering, the legionnaires were undoubtedly adjusting their own plans. Esther didn’t know who else might be hiding, ready to spring yet another trap.

  She started having second thoughts about sending First Squad up the hill. If the Legion swamp platoon managed to break through to the farmhouse, First would be cut-off. She keyed in Sergeant Ngcobo on the P2P to recall him, but held her tongue. She still needed to disrupt the platoon up there. She wanted to scream with frustration as the tension mounted, and all at once, everything broke loose.

  “We’re assaulting,” Sergeant Ngcobo passed, not giving Esther any time to give orders to the other two platoons.

  Second didn’t need it. The Marines, along with Lance Corporal Wynn, opened up, peppering the line of fighting positions. Once again, Esther didn’t think they’d be having much effect, but they should be keeping the legionnaire’s heads down. Third Squad, though, was a little slower to add to the fire.

  “Mind the beacon!” Esther passed.

  On Esther’s display, Lance Corporal Kunckle’s avatar was flashing red. As the lead man in the assault, his beacon marked the forward progress, and the other two squads had to keep their fire to the west of him.

  A tremendous cacophony of firing exploded to Esther’s left. For a moment, Esther thought that Daniels-Graves had managed to increase her squad’s output, but the sound was different. And then it hit Esther like a mule kick. She swung back around, fearing what she would see.

  The legionnaires had either been adjusting on the fly—or, with a sinking feeling, this had been a trap within a trap from the very beginning.

  The four legionnaires who had first been spotted had been close to the farmhouse. Now, erupting from the trees much closer to her, the rest of the swamp legionnaires were not engaging First Squad but rather Second. If First Squad was rolling up the legionnaire line on the hill, a platoon of legionnaires were in position to run up Second Squad’s line in the same way.

  “Second Squad, one fire team on the hill to support First, the rest shift fire to the left. Third, give me full support here,” she passed, sweeping a sloppy overlay that covered from where they were taking fire.”

  It might seem counterintuitive to have a fire team from Second continue to pour fire up on the hill and to have Third fire across the bottomlands in support of Second, but Third Squad was not in great position to support First, and they had a much better angle to fire on the swamp legionnaires while Second had the better angle to fire on the high ground.

  Esther had at first thought the legionnaires in the swamp had made a mistake and been positioned too far in, but now she was convinced it had been part of their plan. The most logical place to put a unit to support any Marines in the farmhouse would have been the treeline to the south—right where Esther had placed them.

  “Ter, I need air now. Air, arty, anything. We’re getting hit hard!”

  “Still working. Eight minutes.”

  “That’s too fucking long! I need it now!”

  “Lieutenant Lysander, calm down,” Captain Hoffman voice came over her speakers. “The XO is working on support, but you need to fight the fight until we get there.”

  Esther wanted to yell back, but she knew the captain was right. She took a deep, calming breath, then said, “Aye-aye, sir. Just get them here as soon as you can.”

  Two of Westinghouse’s Marines’ avatars grayed out, and an instant later, the concussion wave hit her. Whatever the legionnaires had thrown at her, it had been pretty big.

  Something hit Esther in the back, her bones stiffening up for the instant it took to stop the enemy round, and she turned just as the Marines next to her opened up on three legionnaires who had managed to come up behind them. Esther fired as well, as the three jumped for cover. She dropped one of them before the legionnaire was dragged by one of his buddies into a depression.

  How the hell did they get behind us?

  Esther tried to re-scan for the enemy positions, but her display was flickering and re-booting. There was some heavy-duty jamming going on.

  “Pull Westinghouse back and orient the squad to the west,” she ordered her Second Squad leader.

  One of the chat-chats started firing, the rounds reaching out to them—but not quite. They were impacting just beyond Westinghouse as he wheeled back.

  “That you on the chat-chat?” Esther asked Ngcobo.”

  “Roger that, ma’am. Thought we’d get in the fun.”

  She highlighted the squad. Six of the avatars were a bright, welcomed blue, and the two walking wounded were still their light blue. They had moved down a third of the legionnaires’ line and stopped.

  “What’s your status?”

  “We’ve got three POWs, and two enemy KIA. The rest have retreated down their line.”

  “Can you advance?”

  “Not too good of an idea now. They’re keeping our heads down in the far position. But not the chat-chat’s. We’re clear.”

  That wasn’t going to last long, Esther knew. The legionnaires weren’t going to just sit there and do nothing. Her plan had been when Ngcobo had reached that situation, she’d break off and high-tail it back down, covered by the other two squads. But right now, she needed that chat-chat.

  “Light them up, Charlie! Push them back into the swamp.”

  A mortar landed in the trees behind her, but she barely registered the zing of shrapnel hitting the tree trunk a good 50 centimeters above her head.

  And then, the sweet, sweet sound of a chain-gun sounded in the distance. Moments later, two more opened up in unison. The Aardvarks had arrived! Esther turned back to her left to see trees disintegrate as the big rounds tore into them.

  “Whiskey-two,” she started, using the Aardvarks’ call sign for the first time. “Give me two on the treeline,” she passed, highlighting the area on the overlay. “And give me one on the hill, all west of the beacon Marine.”

  “Roger that. We’ve got you covered.”

  “I’m sending Third Squad to your pos now.”

  “We’d appreciate that. We’re feeling a bit exposed to mudrats about now.”

  Esther didn’t even blink at the armor slang for infantry. They could call her much worse now and she wouldn’t care.

  “Sergeant Hammerschott, pull two fire teams back to the Aardvarks. I want a security perimeter around them. Keep one team covering First and link up with them. As soon as they link, get back to the tracs.

  “Charlie, you still OK?”

  “Hell, yeah, ma’am. I’m just glad that chain gun isn’t aimed at us. It’s freaking awesome.”

  “OK, I want you to break contact. Spike that chat-chat first. Then get your ass back down the hill, link up with a fire team from Third, and move back to the tracs.”

  The tracs were pouring huge amounts of fire into the swamp. It didn’t look like anyone could survive the devastation, but Esther knew that humans were tough sons-of-bitches. She couldn’t assume anything.

  “Sergeant Daniels-Graves, start moving back. Bounding overwatch. Keep on the alert, though.”

  The Marines might have the upper hand at the moment, but the Aardvarks couldn’t fire forever, and the legionnaires could still have a surprise in store. Esther’s goal now was to break contact. The farmhouse was empty, and this little plot of land was not worth any more Marines deaths.

  “Staff Sergeant Fortuna, I want you to watch Hammerschott. Make sure he and First get back to the tracs.”

  “Roger that.”

  Her platoon sergeant had been mostly invisible since the battle started. She looked to the east and saw him stand and almost casually walk toward the sergeant’s position. She pushed him out of her mind as Second Squad started to reach her. She had to retreat with them. Except for the mortars, incoming started to diminish, but Esther kept Second in the bounding overwatch.

  “Golf-One, we’re inbound in 30. Please don’t shoot us,” one of the Wasp pilots casu
ally passed.

  “We won’t, but we’d appreciate the same,” Esther passed. “Confirm.”

  “Beacons on!” she ordered. “Incoming air.”

  Command avatars worked by matched electrons, which theoretically could be hacked. But when dealing with air and ground fire, beacons were broadcast to limit friendly fire casualties. They could theoretically be hacked and copied, or they could be used by the enemy to target Marines, so they were used by the forward-most Marines. When air was inbound in a confused battle area, though, beacons for everyone made sense.

  “Roger, I have yellow, I repeat yellow, at two-two.”

  “That’s confirmed. Happy hunting.”

  The platoon beacon, set by Esther, was a yellow avatar, flashing brighter twice, then a pause, then twice. This pattern would continue until the beacons were turned off.

  A moment later, two evil-looking birds swooped in from the south. Wasps were dual-purpose fighter/ground attack aircraft with limited space capabilities. They were not much when compared to a Navy Experions, but they packed a pretty good punch. As they passed and climbed, the entire swamp exploded, flames and black smoke rising as if hell had escaped the underworld.

  As bad as it looked, the swamp was still a lot of water, and that could protect legionnaires. Esther doubted they’d all been killed.

  The Wasps hit the high ground on the next pass, and upon Esther’s request, hit the mortar position before heading back to the airfield.

  Flames still crackled high in the trees, but the rest of the battlefield was oddly silent. Esther tried a scan, and to her surprise, it indicated a large number of legionnaires still alive and moving—but away from them. Whatever jamming the legionnaires had been employing had evidently been knocked out. She did a quick query—47 legionnaires were retreating. There were a few flickers from either dead or wounded legionnaires.

  This could be another trap, but Esther didn’t think so. With both the Aardvarks and Wasps, the advantage was now with the Marines.

  Sergeant Ngcobo had left his three prisoners on the top of the hill when he’d left, unable to handle them, but Esther sent out a quick patrol to check the ghost flickers on her scans. Four wounded legionnaires were collected, and after being treated by Doc, were loaded into the Aardvarks, along with the platoon’s five KIA and six wounded. Doc thought four of their KIAs were good candidates for resurrection. Even if he were right, that meant two of her Marines were permanently dead.