The next job was the bulk production of bore grenades made from Avari beetle larvae and molded iron shells. Within minutes Talbot was holding one in his hand - rather crude to look at, but he had no doubt they were lethal. As long as they did what Corbin said they would do, Talbot was excited to add them to his soldiers’ loadouts.
The lingering shadows of night were retreating by the time Quantum and his assistants had produced over seventy bore grenades. The salvation trees still contained larvae, but it was time to assume defensive positions. Talbot figured that Ashby was biding his time, knowing the Terrans had no choice but to hole up at the riverside base. As usual, he was wisely allowing his troops to rest, well aware that the Terrans would’ve had a tense night. By the time Talbot had organized his scouts into rear sniping positions, the smell of imminent battle was in the air.
Talbot took up a central position behind the southern palisades, standing shoulder to shoulder with the only other solider with an assault rifle - Wilkes. Engineers wielding blunderbusses were lying flat on the base roof, ready and waiting to send heavy fire into enemy ranks. Talbot was interested to see how the weapon performed against the Irians. He wasn’t sure if a slow projectile would be useful against the agile, fast-moving dragoons and foragers. Which was why he’d instructed the heavy engineer units to focus on sentinels if they could.
In reality, without the bore grenades, four of which were tucked into Talbot’s own utility belt, the Terran force probably had no chance of surviving the coming assault. The general strategy was now in place, and it hinged on the assumption that Ashby would send his sentinels into battle first. Talbot was by no means certain that events would unfold in the way he hoped. In many ways he was engaging Ashby in a battle of guile - a highly ambitious venture indeed.
Porter, the only solider Talbot had positioned forward of the base, returned with news that the Irian host was approaching from the south.
“What’s in the vanguard?” Talbot asked.
“Dragoons, sir. Advancing quickly.”
Talbot’s shoulders sagged, his hopes deserting him.
“Fall back, Porter,” he ordered through gritted teeth. Dragoons would overrun the riverside base within minutes. The entire war might be over in humiliating fashion.
Talbot was ruminating on what kind of life awaited him on the other side of defeat when a solider yelled from somewhere down the line. Five sentinels had rounded a bend in the canyon and were advancing with casual arrogance.
Overcome with relief, Talbot thanked the war gods for giving him a second chance. This was an enemy he was equipped to deal with. Ashby obviously intended to crush the Terrans in a ruthless show of force, but his eagerness to show his strength was going to blow up in his face.
“Hold steady,” Talbot called out, eying off the engineers to his left and right.
The first grenade volley would be critical - all it would take was an errant, premature lob to fuck everything up. The sentinels marched directly for the camp, their hydraulic systems hissing in the tense silence.
Talbot raised his hand and stepped forward so that most of his troops could see him. His heartbeat sky-rocketed as the towering enemy units came within melee range. The foremost sentinel stooped over to tear Talbot’s head off.
“Now!” Talbot screamed, taking an evasive step backwards.
Over fifteen bore grenades were lobbed at the sentinels. The projectiles flared angry red on impact, giving off sharp, crisp bangs. The sentinels were riddled with fizzing holes, where corrosive fluid leaked into the molded armor plates and beyond. The sentinel before Talbot dropped to his knees, the man inside shrieking with pain. His comrades weren’t faring any better. They could only take a few wobbly steps before succumbing to their horrible injuries.
Talbot took a moment to ensure that the sentinels were no longer a threat before rushing forward to make his signal.
“Now!” he shouted, sprinting across the open terrain behind the smoking sentinels.
A figure kept pace with him - Wilkes, his eyes pregnant with violence. The engineer corps followed only a few yards behind. A steady line of scouts held the rear.
Up ahead Talbot could see dragoons fanning out in a thin line. It was exactly what he’d been hoping for. Abandoning the riverside base and advancing into the Irian host was the opposite of what Ashby would’ve expected. The enemy leader had organized his troops into supportive siege positions, certain that his sentinels were more than enough to breach the base.
Talbot strafed left to right as he hared across the hard sand of the riverbed. He was down to the last of his ammunition but that couldn’t be helped. Enemy bolts whispered past his ear but he held his nerve, wasting several crouching dragoons on the way through. The enemy units weren’t fully prepared for the frontal assault and their aim was slightly off.
Wilkes tossed a bore grenade straight at a rushing dragoon. It struck the alien in the neck, neatly removing its head. The effect of the gruesome kill was immediate - the surrounding dragoons withdrew a little, frantically reloading their harpoons. Talbot got a glimpse of Ashby further back in the salvation trees, but he kept on running - now wasn’t the time for personal vendettas. It was enough to know that the Irian leader was angry.
Expending the last of their ammunition, Talbot and Wilkes reached a bend in the ravine that represented temporary safety.
“Come on!” Talbot shouted, waving his engineers through.
It was imperative that the Terrans rounded the bend before the Irians organized themselves into offensive positions. Harpoon bolts sailed into the backs of two engineers, but the host otherwise made it through unscathed.
“Lead them on!” Talbot shouted to Wilkes. “I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point.”
The commando nodded and sprinted south down the ravine with the engineers. Talbot was forced to find the cover of the ravine wall as a clutch of dragoons took positions in the salvation trees to the north. Several sharp retorts pierced the air and echoed down the canyon - sniper rifles. The dragoons fell, their ichor staining the sand. Fielding’s scouts burst from the foliage, their usual caution abandoned for outright speed.
“Quickly!” Talbot urged, willing them on. He was convinced they’d all made it when a harpoon bolt thudded into Nikken’s neck, killing him instantly.
“Leave him!” Talbot roared at Fielding, seeing her into cover before using his last rounds to dissuade the Irians from immediate pursuit.
Talbot and the scouts hared down a narrow stretch of canyon and rounded another bend into the southern valley. If they continued this way, they would eventually reach the choke point that admitted to the prairie.
Getting there wasn’t going to be easy. Talbot’s throat was parched and his legs heavy with lactic acid. He had no doubt Ashby would hound him at every turn, incensed that he’d let the Terrans slip through his grasp.
“Cover the rear,” Talbot said to Fielding. “Rotate the kill shot.”
Fielding nodded grimly, crouching by a grass fern to take the first shot. She was brave, no doubt about it. Talbot shoved his emotions aside and kept moving.
Rotating kill shots during a pursuit was a nerve-shredding task, but the scouts were the perfect soldiers for the job. Talbot knew there’d be casualties but the engineers needed to be protected at all costs. Talbot checked on the engineers further down the line. Many were tired but were pushing on bravely.
Talbot needed to be up with Porter, setting the pace and looking out for traps. Wilkes could handle the mid-section of the line whilst, Fielding and her scouts would hopefully survive their rearguard action without too many casualties. Willing his body on, he hustled to the vanguard and was glad to see Porter’s tall frame moving through the trees ahead.
“We’re still hours away,” the scout grumbled. “Too long to be at the mercy of enemy dragoons.”
“The soldiers are tired, but we can’t be flanked in this snaking valley,” Talbot pointed out. “Let’s set the tone, Porter. I’m sticking right behind you.”
&n
bsp; The scout nodded and forged ahead, consulting his wrist pad all the way. Even though the valley was reasonably narrow, there were cul-de-sacs to either side that needed to be avoided. Every now and again the retort of a sniper rifle could be heard a half mile behind him. The Terran line was being stretched too far. Talbot called a momentary halt and waited with Porter while the engineers caught up.
“At least one of the scouts has fallen,” Wilkes reported. “I heard the cry myself.”
Talbot waited another minute before Fielding and her four remaining scouts came into view.
“Do you need covering fire?” Talbot asked.
“Keep moving,” Fielding said firmly. “Let me do my job, sir.”
Laura was clearly in no mood for debate, so Talbot let it ride, marshaling the engineers for another hard march.
“One more effort,” he urged. “In a couple of hours we’ll be surrounded by prairie. A paradise.”
19
“Don’t overdo it,” Quantum said, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.
Thankfully, the soldiers had one last effort in them. With regular sniper fire spurring them on, the Terran host made excellent time through the southern end of the valley, reaching the narrow ravine as the sun was reaching its highest point. By this stage Talbot had exhausted his canteen and was glad to refill at the rapids. The soldiers were positioned defensively under the imposing conifers, eyes trained on the northern approach. Talbot breathed a sigh of relief when the five scouts emerged around the last bend, sprinting to the forward position.
“We have about three minutes,” Fielding said breathlessly. “Use it well, sir.”
“You did good, Fielding,” Talbot said, appreciative of his scouts. “Now - I need around fifteen bore grenades.”
The grenades weren’t difficult to scrounge, as most soldiers hadn’t used all of their allotment in the recent battle.
“Who’s the quickest soldier here?” Talbot demanded.
Porter stepped forward. “One of the perks of pathfinding, sir.”
“Porter, I have a critical task for you,” Talbot said. “First, we coat our wooden lattices with the flammable gel inside these bore grenades. I want you to hide in a plug-hole. When the Irians have followed us through the ravine, follow them at a safe distance to the grassland. I need you to start a fire there. More on that later. You got that?”
“I think so, sir,” Porter said.
“Good. Let’s get to work, people.”
The soldiers had the wooden lattices covered in thick beetle gel in no time. The lattices were stowed away and Porter left to find himself a plug-hole. Fielding glanced at Talbot as if she needed more information. Porter was a fine solider and she was understandably hesitant to send him away without due explanation.
“I’ll tell you on the way,” Talbot said gently. “He’ll be safer than us if all goes to plan.”
That only increased her confusion, but she was professional enough to let it ride for now. It was time to move. The Terran host scrambled into the ravine in a tight, compact formation.
“How many photon charges do we have left?” Talbot asked Wilkes.
“Probably around seven or eight,” came the reply. “What did you have in mind?”
“I wanna bring down these walls,” Talbot said, inspecting suitable breach points. There was a small overhang a half yard from the base - it was just pronounced enough to hide a series of blinking photon charges.
“Use four charges,” Talbot ordered, pointing at the overhang. “Five yards apart. Set them to sleep mode.”
Once the charges were set, the host moved on. The small army moved through the ravine and into the open grassland to the south. Talbot had no pathfinder to aid him now that Porter had been left behind. Garren, the only other scout with the requisite skills, had been killed on the desperate flight from the riverside base.
In any case, he didn’t intend anything tricky now that the Terrans were on the prairie. On the contrary, he wanted to engage Ashby at some point. More importantly, he wanted the alien leader to believe that no Terran had been left north of the narrow ravine.
The afternoon sun beat down on the ragged host as they marched across a thigh-high sea of green. If Talbot wasn’t fighting for the future of mankind he might’ve taken a moment to drink in the glorious scenery. Stretching to the horizon, the prairie was huge. Talbot was certain a beacon or two could be found in the region, which would be a welcome bonus considering what his army had been through.
And yet, such gains would surely be temporary. Two miles to the north, Ashby and his entire squad, some sixty-five Irians, were now emerging from the ravine. Their tight formation broke into a ragged, ravenous line. The dragoon and foragers were hunting. Behind them, a clutch of sentinels stood guarding the ravine entrance. Talbot pursed his lips - even he had to admit it was a smart play. The sentinels weren’t much use out here in the open. Besides, their collective morale had taken a battering after their failure at the riverside camp.
“Porter,” he said quietly in to his com. “Porter - do you read?”
“Good,” Talbot said, relieved. “I want you to head north up the ravine. There’ll be a few sentinels waiting down the other end. Stay out of sight until I give the order. I want you to lob a bore grenade as far as you can into the grassland. Then you need to get back to the photon grenades and set them to motion detection. Got that?”
came the reply.
“Yes,” Talbot said. “Ashby and his goons will try and make it back through the ravine very soon. The photon charges will take care of some of them. Foragers will probably be able to reach the lattices first. Lattices covered in beetle guts. You’ll have another bore grenade. I suggest you use it wisely.”
“One more thing. You can probably guess what you need to do once the Irians have been slowed down.”
“Good man,” Talbot said. “Now get moving up that ravine.”
The advancing Irians had spread out into a wider line than Talbot had expected. The hoots and hollers of various animals could be heard across the prairie to the northwest. Talbot had almost forgotten about the herds he’d seen earlier.
“Can anyone see what’s going on?” Talbot called out.
“Negative, sir,” Wilkes said. “I recommend we stay here and wait for further intel.”
Talbot glanced over his shoulder - a copse of stunted fir trees dotted a small mound. It was the best defensive position in the area.
“Do it,” Talbot said. “Rest up, people. I need the hydrologists to find us some water.”
Talbot’s canteen was long empty and the unforgiving sun threatened to bake the prairie throughout the afternoon. Judging from Alpha Centauri’s position, it was just after two o’clock. Three more hours of sunlight, then an hour of twilight before the Avari battle was over. As things stood, the Irians held five beacons to two. Timing would be everything in these last, desperate few hours.
Ideally, Ashby would advance slowly, making sure of this last battle. Porter would be haring down the ravine. Soon his bore grenade would strike the prairie at the northern end and set the tussocks ablaze. What Ashby would do in that situation was anyone’s guess. He would realize there was at least one Terran to the north, and that his hard-won beacons were under threat.
Ashby would’ve left sentries, of that there was no doubt. It was up to Porter to pick them off at range. In just a few short hours he would either be a hero or a villain. Talbot regretted piling so much on his shoulders but Porter had the perfect blend of skills for the task. The Irians may be faster and more durable across the terrain, but pathfinding was a Terran skill and Talbot hoped to exploit it to the full. If he couldn’t fight Ashby with many sol
diers, he would fight him with one.
For the moment the Irian leader seemed content to let his foragers roam wide. Enemy troops were spotted far to the east and west, several of them engaging the herds of zebra-like beasts. He wondered what their skills in animal husbandry might grant them in this situation. Judging from the forager riding bare back to Ashby’s central position, some were seriously leveled.
More foragers returned to the fold on the back of newly-docile animals. Beasts that could be turned against the Terran host at any moment. Talbot stood under a kilambo tree and squinted through his binoculars. The approach to their location was open and gently undulating. Fielding had her scouts in defensive positions, ready to fire. Ponsford had apparently raised her sniper rifle skill to level five and could pick off targets more than two hundred yards away. If Ashby wanted to advance, he was gonna have to pay for it.
The minutes passed slowly as the Terran host sweated and waited. It was around mid-afternoon when the Irian vanguard appeared over a low hill in attack formation. A v-shaped company of beast riders bounded across the tussocks. The sight sent a shiver down Talbot’s spine, but then he saw a black smudge of smoke on the northern horizon. Porter had discharged his bore grenade and was hopefully fleeing back down the ravine.
Talbot raised his binoculars - a small, rather unassuming fire was spreading across the grassland. On the positive side, it looked to be building slowly. Thankfully, the ground tussocks looked reasonably dry and had been baked by the sun all day. The sentinels were nowhere to be seen. If they were chasing Porter down the ravine, hopefully they’d get caught in the photon explosion. Three or four less sentinels in Ashby’s arsenal would be most welcome.
“Here,” Wilkes said, tossing Talbot a box of ammo. “Scrounged from the riverbed camp.”
The beast riders came on quickly. The scouts, well positioned to flank the attackers and “shoot angles”, as Talbot’s old drill instructor used to say, picked off the leading foragers. Five or six beasts were killed in quick succession. The thrown riders were dropped with a second volley, leaving the surviving riders to the rest of the Terran host.
Virtual War: Alpha Centauri (A LitRPG Novel) Page 12
