I looked to the right of the dropship to see that the section had completed their dismount, having formed a near perfect line with ten metre spaces between each trooper in order to stay spread out. A gang of troopers bunched together made a juicy target, especially to a nearby smart missile.
Breaking cover from behind the dropship, I dashed through the long grass behind the section line and found the gap that they had left for me. As soon as I took a knee the dropship lifted away from the grass, its ramp already closing. It shot rearward, darting between trees and bushes in an effort to remain concealed.
Ahead of us the first company were conducting their relief in place as fast as they could, taking over from a unit that were close to breaking point. I watched as tens of FEA soldiers withdrew in ragged lines to our left, squelching through the marsh toward the safety of the forest behind us. Even from a distance they looked broken. Some of them were limping, others staggered beneath the weight of their dead and wounded. I remembered how young some of the FEA soldiers were - far younger than I had been when I was conscripted into the Union army. At such a young age, they had already born witness to the full horrors of war, their innocence ripped away from them in an instant. It would damage them, as it had me, leaving them with mental scars that would never fully heal.
‘Poor bastards,’ I said to myself sadly.
‘They have fought well,’ Yulia replied from behind me, hearing my lament.
I realised that I had forgotten about her for a second, so absorbed had I been in the battlefield. She must have followed me from the dropship.
‘Perhaps,’ I grunted in agreement.
To be fair to the FEA, despite brutal losses the company I was watching withdraw had managed to repel a frontal assault from Loyalist dropships, one of which still smouldered in the mud where it had crash-landed.
Dropships were fearsome machines, each equipped with a devastating arsenal of missiles, a Vulcan cannon, and - unlike the Union dropship - railguns, but they were vulnerable to dismounted infantry. A single soldier equipped with a smart missile was capable of bringing one of these high-tech war machines down on his own, and if he died then there were still another twenty or more soldiers in his platoon who could pick the weapon up and do exactly the same.
‘They did well to stop an attack from Loyalist dropships,’ Yulia added respectfully, flicking her head toward the stricken aircraft. ‘Now we are ready for when they cross again.’
I gave a small nod. ‘They did do well, but the Loyalists won’t attempt to cross here again.’
‘Why not?’
‘The Loyalists will be reluctant to attempt another head-on attack,’ I explained. ‘Dropships are vulnerable to dismounted infantry, they normally receive fire support for their attacks. The Loyalists have no fire support from their artillery anymore, and their visibility is too far reduced by the smoke. They won’t want to risk more of their prized assets.’
'What do you think they will do instead?'
I turned to regard Yulia, who crouched in the mud just behind me. I presumed that she was keeping as close as possible so that she knew exactly what I was doing. That was fair enough, since I also needed her close by so that I would know what her company was doing. I noticed that Makito was knelt right beside her, trying to look indifferent as he surveyed the battlefield. He was nervous - I could see through the act.
I jerked a thumb at the young Guardsman. ‘Does he really have to be right next to you?’
Yulia glanced at Makito for a second, before ordering him away with a flick of her hand. He shot me an angry glare before obeying her command. I watched him go, squelching away from us with his rifle held down at his side with only one hand. It was like watching a child having a sulk because he had been scolded by his mother. I pitied the lad, for I had no doubt that he would never live to see adulthood.
Yulia was growing impatient. ‘Well?’
'We need to push forward.' I nodded toward the battle. 'I can't get decent eyes-on from here.'
Something exploded in the marsh a few hundred metres away, hurling great clods of earth into the sky.
Yulia pointed toward the explosion. 'That is the front line,’ she warned, ‘it will not be safe there.'
I bristled. What did she think we were - CROW fresh out of Uralis?
'I can see that,' I replied brusquely, 'but if I can't see, then I'm no good. We're fighting troops first, and recce second. Gone are the days when we just mark drop zones.'
She seemed to accept my argument. 'What do you intend to do?'
I swept my arm around to the right in a wide arc. 'Push around the eastern flank, so we don’t get caught in the crossfire. We’ll attempt to get eyes-on from there.'
Her eyes followed my arm. 'I will tell my superiors.'
'You do that.' I turned to Puppy, who watched me intently from his end of the section line, his head just visible above the grass. 'Prepare to move,' I announced over the section net. 'We're going to move out to the right and get eyes-on!'
The section repeated the message verbally, ensuring that absolutely nobody failed to hear it. Although our section intercom was almost infallible, we never took chances.
Every trooper automatically checked his safety catch and his pouches, as was the drill for preparing to move. It was an instinct, as was everything else, created by endless practice. If you had to think to do something in battle, you usually forgot, and if you forgot to secure your magazines before moving, then losing a magazine might cost you your life.
I took one last look back at Yulia, who was busy speaking over her own net. 'Follow on.'
I picked myself up and ran along the section line, this time followed by the section that peeled off after me, one by one. Boots slapped against the wet mud as the section left its drop-off point, traversing the battlefield in search of a more suitable location.
Ignoring the splashing water that soaked into my combats, and the mud that stuck to the soles of my boots, I maintained a steady running pace that I knew my section could sustain. There was no point in thrashing them, since we weren't under fire, but at the same time I wanted to cover the open ground quickly. The grass made it difficult for us to be seen, standing over waist height, but if the veil of smoke lifted then we risked being detected by even the least sophisticated targeting systems.
'Blackjack-One-Zero, this is Blackjack-One-One-Charlie, message,' I panted as I cut my path through the wet grass.
The response from the platoon commander was almost instant - 'Send!'
'Roger. My call-sign is now mobile, manoeuvring into over watch. Maintain the smoke screen until I reach my position.'
'Understood. I am still located with the battalion headquarters, preparing to move forward with them. They seem to be moving pretty cautiously at the moment, but I’m trying to give them a gentle kick up the arse.'
My corner of my mouth twitched. ‘Good luck with that!’
I looked back at Yulia, who trotted just behind seemingly unaffected by the pace. 'I presume that none of your forces are across the river yet?' I asked her.
'No.'
That was all I needed to hear. I switched back to the platoon net. 'Further to my last message, request close-air support now in anticipation. Engage targets on the far bank only.'
'Blackjack-One-Zero, roger. Good idea. You now have two saucers tasked to you.'
Mr Barkley knew what I was asking for. There was no point in holding the saucers back until I managed to see the enemy, especially with the smoke obscuring the far bank. They were more than capable of engaging targets on their own, so long as they were on the far side of the river where there were no FEA units to get confused with. The biggest issue we faced was that the robotic aircraft, intelligent though they were, would struggle to tell the difference between FEA and Loyalist forces, especially since one side used Alliance equipment, and the other used a mixture of Alliance, Russian and our own.
We ran for a good few hundred metres in the mud before I finally turned toward
the main river, finding one of its tributaries to follow. I ran along the edge of the small, fast-flowing stream of water, using its steep bank for additional cover, but avoiding the water itself, since that would only slow me down.
As we ran along the length of the stream toward the Ghandi, balls of flame broke through the heavens and streaked toward the earth with a whoosh so loud that my headset had to cut it out to protect my ear drums. They exploded above the Ghandi in great clouds of smoke that quickly added to the shroud that concealed us from the far bank. Designed specifically for planetary bombardment, and tasked directly to us, Warrior was loaded with thousands of bombs, enough to continue its smoke screen for hours or even days. It would continue to drop them until we told it to stop.
I listened to the battle that still raged to my left, wondering if the two sides could even see each other. Like a thick morning fog, the smoke had reduced all visibility dramatically, and the hot metallic fragments within it rendered thermal imaging useless. The advantage was that the relief in place could incur minimum casualties, and the smoke screen would also keep the enemy guessing. The Loyalist commander would know that something was happening, of course - smoke was always used to cover movement - but he wouldn’t know what it was. If I was the enemy commander, I thought, I would assume that the FEA were either preparing to withdraw, or to counterattack.
I stopped the section fifty metres short of the Ghandi, choosing a section of the stream running parallel to the river. I took a knee against the bank and held my arms out either side of me.
Understanding the hand signal for extended line formation, my fire team quickly formed-up either side of me, with Myers to my right and Skelton to my left. Puppy’s fire team closed up, and the section turned to face the Ghandi so that all of its weapons faced the direction of enemy threat. Although my task involved observation rather than direct involvement in the battle, I would be foolish to assume that I was safe with no friendly troops in front of me. I wanted the maximum number of weapons to bear.
I waited while my men slowly caught their breath, listening to the savage exchange of gunfire to my left and the steady whir of my respirator filters.
Yulia joined me, propping herself against the stream bank with her rifle ready to fire.
'What’s going on now?' I asked.
Yulia turned her head to the fire fight further west along the river. 'The relief is almost complete. One of our companies is now preparing to assault on the left flank.'
'OK.'
I swept my gaze over the marsh, and the fast-flowing river that separated us from the Loyalist horde. I knew that the river was at least three hundred metres across from having studied the map on my datapad, and that the far bank was also bordered by marshland before the forest resumed.
There was no way that soldiers could cross the river without using rafts, bridges or dropships. I strongly doubted they would use the first two, since not only would they struggle to make a slow and laborious crossing with FEA companies dotted along the bank, but the bulky equipment would be near impossible to move through the forest in the first place. Dropships would be the best method, but not by attacking head-on. The enemy commander had learnt that the hard way. This time, I knew, he would seek a crack in the FEA defence, before using his dropships and the soldiers they carried to drive a wedge through it.
I turned to Yulia. ‘Do you have anything ready in case the Loyalists attack on the flanks?'
'We have reserves on the edge of the forest, including a company of Guardsmen,' Yulia responded, pointing behind us. 'If they try to attack, we can bring them forward to wherever they are needed.'
I nodded slowly - the decision made sense. What the FEA didn't want to do was commit all of its forces onto holding the river, lining them along its length like a human chain. That left them with no reserve, and no reserve meant no offensive capability. With the FEA forces outmatched by the Loyalist war machine, defence would only work if it came coupled with an offensive spirit.
I studied the ground, considering the plan. The first move was already happening - which was the relief of embattled soldiers along the river. The second move - which was to secure a beach head on the left flank, would happen very soon. I wondered what the Loyalist commander would be thinking.
'They’ll attack again,' I concluded aloud, ‘and soon.’
Yulia cocked her head inquisitively. ‘Why do you say that? We have beaten them off once, now they expect us to attack.’
‘The smoke and the attack on their artillery have confused them momentarily,’ I explained, ‘but they will want to maintain their advance. They’ll attempt to find out what you’re doing and mess it up with another offensive action.’
'What do you mean?'
'A feint,' I replied, resuming my scan of the river. 'They’ll assault with a small force, maybe company strength. They’ll then follow up with a larger force somewhere else.’
The sudden roar of gunfire announced the arrival of the saucers, darting through the smoke in a blur of gleaming metal. Their twin cannons strafed the far bank with thirty-millimetre shells, engaging targets obscured to me by the smoke. I watched the two craft unleash their fury, imagining the surprise and the terror that the Loyalists felt at their mercy.
'Blackjack-One-Zero, this is Blackjack-One-One-Charlie,' I announced. 'I have eyes on my airborne assets and will direct from here. Cancel smoke mission.'
'Understood,’ the boss replied instantly. ‘That's the smoke mission cancelled.'
His signaller would relay the message instantly to Warrior, ordering it to stop dropping bombs over the Ghandi.
‘Roger. I’m sending my airborne assets along the length of the river, I anticipate an enemy force will attempt to probe on the flanks.’
‘I agree.’
I tapped the screen of my datapad, activating my wizard kit. A pale blue menu screen appeared on my visor display, and I quickly used it to issue commands to the saucers, pointing where I wanted them to go.
‘What are you doing?’ Yulia looked at me as though I was mad. Only I could see the wizard menu, so to her I simply appeared to be pointing and waving my arms around.
‘Directing the saucers,’ I replied, watching as the unmanned aircraft obeyed my commands. Still hammering targets beneath them, the saucers zigzagged along the river to the north and south, changing direction almost instantly to make themselves near impossible to hit.
As one of the two craft passed in front of us, it darted upward suddenly, chased by a trio of smart missiles launched from behind the cloud of smoke.
Somebody was there on the right flank. It might be nothing more than a defensive position placed out in anticipation of the FEA counterattack, I told myself. The Loyalist commander might have misread their intent, expecting an assault on the east. It could also be a fire support group, though, placed out prior to the probing attack that I feared.
I knew what needed to be done, and I had no time to confer with Mr Barkley as I quickly issued more instructions on my wizard menu, this time selecting the railgun artillery that had been placed tens of kilometres behind us. I marked the far bank where I had seen the missiles launch with my outstretched finger, and gave the command to fire incendiaries.
A voice quickly answered over the net. ‘Blackjack-One-One-Charlie, this is Thunder-God, fire mission received. Wait!’
Somewhere tens of kilometres behind me, ‘Thunder-God’ - the aptly named railgun battery placed into position by Union dropships - was preparing to fire onto the co-ordinates sent by my wizard kit.
I turned to the section. ‘Fire mission going into the far bank! Possible enemy counterattack!’
Yulia looked alarmed as the message passed along the section line. ‘You think they will attack here?’
‘What do you think?’ I snapped.
Just as I spoke the smoke began to part, revealing the far bank, and tens of red crosshairs appeared as my visor targeting system began to identify enemy all the way along the river. I could make out the main
cluster of Loyalist soldiers directly opposite the FEA first company, and then another smaller cluster just opposite my own section. Magnifying my view, they appeared to be taking cover along a small tributary river that cut through the marshland on their side. I couldn’t make out accurate numbers, but the soldiers I could see had their attention firmly focused onto the air, waiting for my saucers to return.
‘Stay low!’ I ordered, worried that one of the Loyalist soldiers might spot us hidden in the long grass. Our equipment was designed to render us virtually invisible to thermal and visual imaging at a distance, but I wasn’t willing to put it to the test, and I doubted that Yulia’s kit was anywhere near as good.
As one the section slid down the bank into the water. Cold water ran into my boots as I held up my rifle, ensuring that I could still see the enemy through its camera without exposing my head.
‘Blackjack-One-One-Charlie, this is Thunder-God, shot three-zero!’
Thunder-God had fired, the railgun shells hurtling through the air toward us at several times the speed of sound. The words ‘shot three-zero’ told me that I had thirty seconds until the shells landed.
I quickly warned the section of the incoming artillery strike, but as I did so something on my camera display caught my eye - a metallic object moving at high speed in the distance. It wasn’t one of our saucers. One of them was still attacking targets along the river to my left, while the other was still darting through the clouds high above in an effort to escape from the Loyalist smart missiles.
I zoomed in to identify the object, cursing as I finally recognised what it was. It was a Loyalist dropship. As I watched, more of them were emerged from across the forest kilometres ahead of us, rapidly coming together to form into some kind of attack formation. It was coming straight toward us.
‘Incoming dropships!’ I hollered. ‘Get the launchers out!’
There was a flurry of activity along the stream as launchers were quickly unclipped from troopers’ daysacks and prepared to fire. We didn’t have much time, dropships could move as fast as saucers, limited only by the G-forces their human cargo could endure.
EDEN (The Union Series) Page 13
