Commandant (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 8)

by Jonathan P. Brazee

  The entire brigade made it to the planet’s surface unscathed, which was a huge relief to Ryck. Given the UAM’s expanded restrictions placed on space-to-ground weapons, restrictions to which both forces were still adhering, the Marines were most vulnerable while shipborne. Once on the ground, only other ground forces could stop them. The Marines would still have to get off the planet and back in Evolution space, but for now, they were relatively secure. Facing the 4,000 Marines were some 18,000 FCDC troops and around 1,000 loyalist Marines, but a planet is a big place, and fewer than 1,500 fuckdicks and all the loyalist Marines were in the objective’s AO. Ryck was confident that the brigade would prevail, but they had to get it done before the rest of the fuckdicks could mobilize and form a counterattack, and they had to get back shipboard and in bubble space before the loyalist Navy could get on scene. Ryck’s biggest nightmare would be to have the loyalist Navy drive off the Third Fleet task force, stranding the Marines on the planet’s surface and allowing the FCDC commander to marshal his forces and attack the brigade when he felt ready.

  During the War of the Far Reaches, Colonel Derek Asherton had conducted a successful raid against a Fordham forward installation on an unnamed asteroid in the Pellas system, but after his naval support had fled the system, the Fordites mounted a large-scale counterattack. Out of ammo and with 75% casualties, he’d surrendered the remainder of his force to the inevitable. Despite the tactical realities of the situation, the Federation executed Colonel Asherton after the war for surrendering. Ryck had no intention of executing anyone if that scenario was repeated on First Step, but he also had no intention of defeat.

  “Watch 2/4,” Tomtom said needlessly. “Their lead elements are about to enter the complex. Resistance is minimal so far. This is going to work!”

  “Where are the Marines?” Jorge asked. “They landed at New Hartford, and that’s fewer than 45 klicks from the factory.”

  The MCCC was packed to overflowing with over 90 techs, analysts, and First Marine Division and Ryck’s staff, but most men were keeping their thoughts to themselves, with the top brass doing most of the speaking. Ryck knew that having so much brass in one spot could be daunting, but he trusted his techs to speak up if something turned at their station that could be important.

  “They’re there, sir. I can feel it,” Sams said.

  “I agree with Top Samuelson,” Sergeant Major Ito said, one outnumbered SNCO sticking up for another amidst all the stars and eagles.

  Ryck said nothing, but he had to agree. If the Council had placed Marines on First Step, they would keep them near the industrial heartland. And with the brigade landing, the more mobile loyalist Marines should have had time to close in on the brigade.

  Unless they can’t be risked fighting a superior force and have been ordered to withdraw, Ryck thought hopefully.

  “Any sign of loyalist ships?” Ryck called out, only 20 minutes since the last time he’s asked.

  “No, sir,” the Navy lieutenant commander monitoring his five ratings manning their comms said. “Nothing.”

  “He’ll tell us if anything changes,” Sams whispered to him. “This isn’t the Telchines.”

  Ryck knew a rebuke when it came, no matter how it was worded. And he knew it was warranted. As a captain, Ryck and his battalion had been temporarily abandoned by the Navy in the action against the Confederation in the Telchines. He knew that had affected him deeply—he’d lost his good friend Donte Ward there. And now dredging up thoughts of Colonel Asherton was adding to his anxiousness. But he had to project an attitude of calm confidence. He had to gather himself.

  It’s just so much harder sitting here with my finger up my ass! Let me do something!

  “Roger that, Sams,” Ryck whispered back as he took a couple of deep breaths and settled back in his seat.

  Ryck just observed the fight, feeling anxious as he watched the display AI that moved the little lights around the battlespace map, but trying to quell any sign of his nerves. He attempted, but failed, to think of those lights as only some war game electrons. No matter how hard he tried, he knew those lights represented living, breathing Marines.

  One of those lights represented Second Squad, Third Platoon, Echo Company, Second Battalion, Third Marines, the “Fuzos.” Ryck had commanded the Fuzos, so there was that personal connection, but more pertinent to him now, that squad had one PFC Benjamin Hope-of-Life as rifleman. He couldn’t tell just which light represented the squad, and no matter how much he wanted to, he resisted the impulse to have the AI identify it, or worse, ask it to identify individual Marines. Still, Ryck kept glancing over to where the Fuzos had established their blocking position instead of where 2/4 was approaching the main objective.

  Two-four was advancing quickly. Four minutes after breaching the industrial estate, the lead elements were entering the objective. The cam-relay gave a first-shooter view as the loading dock door was blasted off its track and the lead squad entered the warehouse. The first Marine was cut down by a waiting fuckdick, and the cam-view immediately shifted to another Marine as return fire dropped the small FCDC element.

  Several Marines and sailors within the MCCC high-fived and fist-bumped each other as the tide of 2/4 Marines poured into the building, but there was no cheering. Too much could still go wrong, and the longer it took, the more the likelihood was that something would go wrong.

  And as 2/4 Marines swarmed Stasis Chamber 5, the loyalist plan started to reveal itself.

  “We’ve got contact at Feed 8,” a station tech shouted out moments before the AI brought the feed to Prime.

  What had before been a quiet sector of residential buildings five klicks to the east erupted as avatars representing PICS seemed to appear out of nowhere.

  “Give me a visual,” Brigadier General Jun Kim, the MCCC Flag watch officer shouted out.

  Moments later, a drone shot confirmed that loyalist Marines in PICS were emerging from three buildings and moving forward to meet the Marine forces. The buildings had to be heavily shielded, but as the loyalists emerged, they were picked up.

  “Get me numbers and who they are!” Kim shouted.

  Numbers would be helpful, but Ryck knew who they were. Their unit was meaningless at the moment. They were loyalists, bent on stopping the brigade.

  Ryck listened in as Colonel Gruber gave orders to orient 2/3 and 3/3 to meet the threat. The loyalists had emerged a little less than two klicks from 3/3’s lines, and depending on how long it would take them to get moving, they could be on the Marines within five minutes.

  The number of PICS loyalists seemed to quit at 146, which was bad, but better than Ryck could have hoped. Marines on foot followed, as well as several Armadillos.

  Ryck knew that the loyalists were vulnerable as they emerged and formed up for movement, but he couldn’t access ship-to-ground fire support. The same proscriptions that seemed to favor the Marines overall were a hindrance here.

  Almost immediately, mortars from 2/3 and 3/3 opened up, but Ryck knew their effectiveness would be limited against the PICS forces even more so if against dismounted infantry. And as the brigade was a raid force where speed was of an essence, no heavier artillery had been landed.

  The brigade was heavy in Storks, and if Colonel Gruber ordered them to hit the loyalists, Ryck would have understood. But those Storks were configured as troop and cargo carriers, and their efficacy against PICS was not as good as a Wasp would be. The brigade’s only two Wasps, however, had been shot down by ground anti-air while the two fighters had destroyed the local airfield.

  “Who are they? Which units?” General Kim asked the harried station tech.

  “I’m getting nothing, sir.”

  All Marines had biochips that identified them and carried a wealth of information. The Marine sensors should have been able to read those chips, but evidently, the loyalists had either removed them or changed their security access in some way that Ryck’s AI’s couldn’t penetrate yet.

  “Wait, sir, I do have one reading. I�
�m sending it to the big board now,” the tech said.

  “Son of a bitch!” Sams said as the information was displayed.

  The only chip that their sensors could read belonged to Brigadier General Sandy Haunish Peltier-Aswad, United Federation Marine Corps.

  “They knew we were coming,” Ryck said, more to himself than to anyone else.

  “How do you know that?” Sams asked.

  “Because the only chip we can pick up is Peltier-Aswad’s,” Jorge answered, immediately understanding what Ryck had meant. “They want us to know he’s there leading the defense.”

  “But why does that mean they knew we were hitting First Step?”

  “Do you think this is a coincidence, Sams?” Ryck asked. “They’ve got close to 100,000 Marines on their side, and they just happen to pick the commander on their side who knows me the best to lead only 1,000 men there?”

  “Well, maybe so, sir. But, what can he do? I mean, he’s good, but not that good, especially ‘cause we’ve got them outgunned. And they let us get into the objective facing only fuckdicks. What kind of tactics are those?”

  The station techs and officers focused on their jobs. Who was leading the assault had little import to them. But the senior officers around the conference table watched the commandant, waiting to hear his response to Sams’ question.

  “They don’t need to stop us from reaching the objective. They only need to keep us from leaving. And by waiting, we’re now as dispersed as we will ever be. This is what a smaller force needs, to be able to concentrate their numbers against a more dispersed force. Numbers as a whole don’t matter; it’s numbers in a specific area, numbers actually in contact with each other,” Ryck said.

  “And as far as Colonel, well, Brigadier General Peltier-Aswad, they think that could throw a wrench into things. They think it could affect how we react. They are wrong.”

  Ryck’s heart had jumped when he saw Sandy’s name, and it was still beating hard. Sandy had chosen sides, though, and Ryck would not let personal matters change anything in the conduct of the operation. The fact that the loyalists knew the Marines were coming was far more bothersome, and that meant the loyalist Navy could be much closer than they had thought.

  With the entire battle being played out on the display, Ryck glanced back at 2/4’s assault. The resistance had either been neutralized or had retreated. Cognizant that a trap could have been laid, Lieutenant Colonel Polizzi, the battalion CO, sent in only one company inside the warehouse, leaving the other companies outside for security. It looked like that one company would be sufficient, and already, the attached Navy Seabee drivers were appropriating the warehouse forklifts and moving material. Ryck listened in as the Navy lieutenant reported that they could start loading in five minutes, and they should be finished in twenty.

  Second Battalion, Fourth Marines might have been the point of main effort, but it looked like 2/3 and 3/3 were going to face the brunt of the loyalist counterattack. Colonel Gruber couldn’t shift 1/1 to help meet the loyalists as that would leave a security gap covering 2/4 as they loaded up the crates. For the two battalions facing the approaching loyalists, this was one of those times when tricky maneuvers were not the answer. This time, it was who were more determined to win out and who were the meanest sons-of-bitches on the field of battle. This had always been the Federation Marines in Ryck’s career, but this time, those were Marines facing the brigade, too.

  Unless Sandy had some ace up his sleeve, the brigade should be able to handle his 1,000 Marines. But while the assault on the objective was relatively bloodless, with only eight KIAs and double that number of WIAs, the loyalists counterattack could end up being be a slugfest with large numbers of casualties. Ryck just hoped most of those would be on the loyalist side.

  Maybe we should have just used more of the H71’s for lift and kept a few Storks as gunships, Ryck thought, second-guessing the plan.

  The H71 shuttles had a much better personnel capacity than the tactical Storks, but they were also much slower. Having a few Storks kept as gunships would disrupt the loyalists, but it would increase the time the Marines were on the planet, and if the loyalist Navy was out there somewhere about to pounce, time was of an essence. Ryck didn’t want to hold First Step; he wanted to get in and get out in the absolute minimum amount of time.

  No, the loyalists had to be met with the two battalions facing them. Ryck had to let the battalion commanders fight the fight.

  That didn’t keep him from watching the avatars maneuver on the tactical display. The loyalist PICS closed in on 3/3’s hasty defense. Facing them was a full company of PICS Marines and two companies of straight leg infantry, which should be more than enough to turn back the counter-attack.

  Ryck glanced up at Jorge, who was concentrating on the display.

  Good job on pushing for a company of PICS, he thought.

  With lift being a major concern, the brigade had originally planned on only a platoon of PICS per battalion given what they knew about the opposing forces. Jorge had disagreed, and he’d convinced Ryck to step in and overturn the decision, ordering a company of PICS Marines per battalion. Ryck had hated to interfere with the brigade’s planning, especially as it bypassed division, but now he was glad he had. Jorge had been right.

  A 3/3 M249 opened up, scoring a direct hit on a loyalist PICS, and the battle was joined. Within moments, the battalion and the loyalists were fully engaged.

  “First time in Federation history that Marines have fought Marines, and the first time that PICS had fought PICS,” Jorge remarked.

  Marines in PICS had fought armored infantry before. Ryck had engaged Greater France and Confederation armored infantry himself. But Jorge was correct. This was the first engagement of PICS versus PICS. The history books would note it, and the fight would be examined and re-examined by analysts and historians. That it should come to this, though, was a sad state of affairs.

  As the Seabees started loading the first shuttle at the main objective, 3/3 seemed to be holding. But that brought up a secondary concern. The Seabees would be done in another ten minutes or so. The brigade needed to get off the planet immediately, and if 3/3 were still in contact, that would be problematic. Ten minutes was no time at all in a fight of this magnitude.

  “General Yarrow, I think you need to go to Contingency 4,” Ryck said.

  “Roger that. Colonel Peterson and I were just discussing that,” the division commander told him.

  Contingency Plan 4 was one of many plans that had been formed to take into account enemy actions. The current plan was that as the last of the two cargo shuttles lifted off, 2/4 would be loading the rest of the H71s. 1/1, 2/3, and 3/3 were to start collapsing on the center, loading the Storks to get off the planet. 1/1 and most of 2/3 could still do that, but 3/3 was engaged. In order to break contact and get off the planet, 3/3 would now have to assault the enemy, taking away their momentum and forcing them back on their heels. This would give the bulk of the brigade more breathing room to load the Storks and shuttles.

  “Time is beyond discussing it,” Ryck said. “We start retrograding in a little over nine minutes.”

  “Done, sir. 2/4 is already beginning to embark.”

  With the other three battalions providing security, that was probably a safe bet, but Ryck still would have waited until both cargo shuttles had taken off.

  Looking back as the display statistics, Ryck was surprised at the lack of a decisive engagement. 3/3 had only lost two PICS Marines and five infantry, while 2/3, barely engaged, had one KIA. The loyalists seemed content to engage at range instead of closing in. They were seemingly only trying to fix 3/3 in place, which made sense if the loyalist Navy was inbound.

  Unless Sandy has something else up his sleeve.

  Moments later, Ryck found out what that was.

  The display AI’s calm voice noted that the three Armadillos had split and were speeding up into contact. Ryck heard Colonel Peterson warn the brigade, but he watched the Armadillos’ tracks to
determine just what they were doing.

  The Armadillos were not much of an asset, Ryck thought. They were too lightly armed, for one thing, even if their 25mm chain gun was an impressive piece of hardware. The engines and suspension had been upgraded since Ryck’s days in with them, so they were very fast, but their lack of protection was still their Achilles’ heel. Given only a slight bit of luck, even a straight-leg infantry Marine could stop one with an M-77 Bunker Buster or M-219 grenade launcher with the anti-armor.

  Two of the Armadillos emerged from behind a line of shops fewer than 500 meters out and lurched into their top speed to rush 3/3’s lines. Incredibly quick, they closed the distance as the Marines opened up.

  “It’s a suicide charge,” someone said.

  Something wasn’t right about that to Ryck. First, it was not in Marine culture to blow oneself up to attack and enemy. Second, against ground troops, a trac could use its bulk as a weapon, true. But it was a personnel carrier, not an armored attack vehicle despite its chain gun. To use its gun, it had the capability to stand off at two klicks to engage the Marines. Now the two Armadillos were charging with their chain guns silent.

  Ryck’s mind was putting together the pieces when at 300 meters out, one of the tracs exploded with such force that the display hiccupped while the AI compensated for the release of energy.

  “They’re full of explosives!” several people, including Ryck, shouted out in various permutations.

  The second Armadillo continued forward despite the intense fire being levied on it.

  “The enemy Armadillo has a tungsten-ceramic front plate attached,” the AI calmly noted.

  “Mother fuck!” Tomtom said in amazement.

  The AI had been able to analyze the small signatures being picked up by the surveillance sensors as Marine rounds hit the Armadillo. With some sort of plate attached, the Armadillos would be far more impervious to the incoming fire. Such a plate would be impractical in a maneuver battlefield, but it would give better protection for a frontal assault where all the trac had to do was speed forward.