Spartan laughed to himself and looked up, imagining the thirty marines inside the warship waiting in orbit. Unlike him, they would be fitted inside special harnesses that lifted them up and away from the ground, while communication skullcaps hung down over their heads. It was a simple measure to ensure they could move about without catching their limbs, and to aid in the sensory deprivation required to make the best possible bond with the machines. The small cadre of commanders would make quick decisions, while the Grunts supported them in battle. He finally moved back to his clamp and rejoined Khan, just as they travelled through a layer of thick cloud.
“Remember the brief. The target is well protected inside and out, but they are not expecting an attack like this. Grunts are expendable, but they are not cheap. Expend them for the mission, and let’s get our people out of there.”
He double-checked his own clamps and then waited patiently alongside Khan.
“Nice speech, Spartan.”
The dropships blasted out from the mountains at a reduced speed of just under four hundred kilometres per hour and right at the compound. Spartan tensed a little as he watched them pass the one kilometre marker, confirming they were now well inside the kill zone. Icons lit up on his overlay from the dropships tagging additional targets missed by the spotters and the drone.
“That’s a lot more than one-fifty,” said Spartan.
Khan tensed his shoulder muscle.
“Who cares? They will die like the rest.”
The pilot’s voice quickly silenced them both.
“Gunships are inbound, targets selected, weapons hot.”
Those inside the dropship watched on their helmet overlays as the pair of Alliance Hammerhead gunships did their work. These were the workhorses of Alliance armed forces, performing the dual role of squad landers, as well as gunships.
“That’s more like it.”
Spartan nodded, watching them move in on the pre-selected position well before they knew what was happening. The first circle strafed over the target area in a wide circle, yet with its guns facing inwards towards the compound. Its turret put down an incredible amount of fire, quickly followed by a barrage of missiles. As it turned away, the second came in for a long strafing pass to knock out their anti-aircraft systems.
“Not bad,” said Khan, “Looks like the anti-air is offline, for now.”
Spartan smiled inside his armour.
“We have our window, but it won’t last long. They have other weapons.”
He then spoke to the entire landing force inside the three dropships.
“We hit the ground in fifteen seconds. Get ready, this is going to get rough!”
A red light flashed inside the hull of the dropship, and then a grinding noise as the hatches fitted to the underside slid open, revealing the cargo of ground troops to those below. Spartan could already feel his pulse beginning to quicken, and with little effort he calmed himself, waiting for the moment of the actual drop. The craft vibrated as the landing mortars launched a star shaped pattern of stun shells all around the landing sight. They hit the ground with a series of flashes and bangs. Spartan laughed quietly.
Shock and awe!
“Drop, drop, drop!” yelled the pilot.
The dropship spun about its engines and reverse thrust while lifting up its nose. The sound from the engines was so loud it sent stowage shaking as they went from low speed to almost stationary. With barely fifteen metres from the ground, it began blasting its cargo out. Like a renaissance organ gun, the dropship expelled its cargo one tube at a time until four seconds later the entire transport bay was empty.
Here we go!
The change from being transported in the dropship to falling to the ground was so sudden that even Spartan surprised. Then came the landing, made safe only due to the massive deceleration of the dropship. He hit the ground, and the legs automatically crunched down, letting the pistons and servos take the strain. Spartan could feel the suit groaning and then he was upright.
On the ground, now the work begins.
With his face blocked from the enemy, he was instead granted a perfect open view via the inserts in front of his eyes. To the right was the shape of his dropship rushing away, while to the left the other two were blasting their ground forces like missiles directly towards the ground.
“All squads move in!”
In front of Spartan were a perimeter wall, two towers, and a stolen military Bulldog APC. His suit had already tagged twenty-three points of gunfire, and each of them blinked away like fireflies. Khan moved far off to his right, Sergeant Tyler and Lieutenant Armstrong spread out to the their flanks; each preceded by a squad of six CD1 Grunts constantly checking their mortal commander was safe. They moved as though in a dream, bounding along, checking left and right.
There they go. If we could make them autonomous, they would dominate the battlefield.
Spartan checked once more to satisfy himself they were on course. He and Khan would be going for the prisoners; the other two would spread out and watch for flankers. Another dropship lifted up just after depositing its cargo, and another four Mavericks and thirty Grunts moved off far to the left to attack the tower complex. Missiles and gunfire rushed back and forth, while pulses of energy marked the HEC-1 cannons on the Mavericks.
Impressive.
“Keep moving ahead. We’re on the clock.”
The odd crack of heavy rifle fire marked the Marine Corps snipers that were well hidden over a kilometre away, and he spotted multiple targets drop from their position high above the assault.
Out in front of Spartan moved the skirmish wave of another six CD1 Grunts. They lurched ahead without a care in the world. They moved and fought like a slightly drunk human, but in the middle of the fight that was where the similarity ended. They reached the perimeter wall at the same time a tracked vehicle crashed through, mowing down three of them. A human would have avoided the impact, but the control delay was too slow to save then. A few managed to leap or rolled out of the way while the gun mount on the back of the vehicle blasted away in the direction of Spartan.
“Spartan!” Khan yelled.
He’d already tagged the target and sidestepped to avoid the incoming fire. Three rounds came perilously close, but two Grunts blocked the position and took the hits for him. Spartan had no idea if it was intentional, or if they had simply lumbered into the way by mistake. Even with just a quarter of a second delay in communications to the ship, it was enough to be hit by enemy gunfire. A full round-trip for the signal was close to half a second, perhaps a little more when signal degradation and error checking was included. In any case, one was cut in two, but the other deflected the shots on its thick metal armour plating before finally turning to face the attacker. By the time the Grunt had selected a target it was hit by three more rounds.
“HEC-1...ready,” said the computer.
With a mental command, Spartan sent a single shot at the vehicle from the phased plasma weapon. The motorised weapon mount tracked the target in silence, unleashing a green bolt of matter. Until impact the bolt of energy was a simple sphere that glowed like a small green star, protected inside its magnetised housing. Once it struck the vehicle, the magnetic shield fractured and unleashed the energy, quickly ripping apart the front of the vehicle.
“Keep moving,” said Khan.
Spartan took three steps forward and watched gunfire from Khan’s massive coilguns cut down enemy combatants, as the surviving enemy soldiers leapt out. These were the multi-barrelled weapons normally reserved for machine gun emplacement, but now a common weapon mount on JAS armour systems.
CD1 Grunts then met them at close range, finishing them off in seconds. Spartan kept on moving ahead past the wreckage and pushed through the perimeter wall. Lights marked the position of guns on many of the buildings, and Spartan fired several rounds at them while continuing forward. He and Khan had reached the prisoner structure in less than a minute. It was a low building with a two-metre wall running all around i
t. There were two entrances, each big enough for a single Maverick to enter.
“Incoming!”
One of the Grunts had shouted the warning via its onboard speakers. A missile moved down, and though it tried to avoid the attack, the missile altered course and struck the machine head on. Chunks of broken metal were all that remained.
“The towers!” Spartan said.
Both Khan and Spartan turned to face the nearest tower and opened fire with everything they had. At the same time a dozen drones did the same, shredding the building with high-velocity coilgun rounds and the occasional blast from Spartan’s plasma based weaponry. As one of the floors started to collapse, he looked back to the prisoners, and nodded with satisfaction as the Grunts surrounded the structure.
“Major, we’ve run into trouble North of your position. Fifty plus targets leaving the tower, and they’re coming your way. At least half are heading for the prisoners,” said Lieutenant Armstrong.
“Affirmative, keep hitting the heavy weapons. We’ll deal with the new targets.”
Khan was about to kick his way inside the structure holding the prisoners.
“Me first,” he said.
He lifted his leg, but Spartan called out, “No, Grunts first.”
Khan grumbled but moved back. Two of the machines stomped ahead, both with their firearms in front and expecting trouble. It wasn’t easy to tell, but Spartan could see the subtle tells that gave away the issues caused by the communication lag from orbit to the ground. It wasn’t massive but enough to give their movement something of a dreamlike quality. The first went in, looking left and then right, before disappearing inside. A massive explosion immediately blasted it out. The robotic soldier hit the ground ten metres away and as a burning wreck. Khan looked to Spartan and laughed.
“Okay, you were right that time.”
From the flames came a pair of enemy soldiers. They were dressed in a bizarre collection of looted clothes, wearing Alliance helmets, and carrying looted firearms. A burst hit Khan in the chest, and he roared with irritation as he grabbed one of them and threw him over his shoulder. CD1 Grunts moved in to take the prisoner, and Khan was then inside.
“Grab them, the others are mine.”
Spartan moved to the left of the building and quickly spotted the scattered group of soldiers. He sent mental commands that were instantly translated into waypoints and orders for the Grunts. All of this was based on the latest technology being developed by CTC, and though not complete, it was a vast improvement over anything he’d used before.
The data was then sent directly to the Confederate class warship high up in orbit. The marines on board would receive the information and send new commands to their robotic avatars. It took just a few seconds, and then Spartan found he was surrounded by more than a dozen of the machines, each moving ahead, their coilguns held at waist height. Cables ran from the guns into the bodies of the machines, giving them full control data from the guns, as well as a direct view to the sight, all without ever having to raise the gun to the shoulder.
“Wait for them.”
The machines stopped in a ragged line while sporadic gunfire struck nearby. In the distance the shapes of Hammerhead gunships could just be made out as they circled overhead, firing at any heavy weapons they could find. Then came the enemy, and they moved with a speed and intensity that only drugs and rage could induce.
“Fire!”
The robotic warriors unleashed a volley, cutting down seven immediately. Then Spartan joined in, using his arm-mounted coilguns to add to the barrage. Part of the building to Spartan’s right collapsed, and out came Khan with a small group of filthy and bloodied marines. Bullets hit near them, but Khan and the other Grunts used their own bodies to protect them as they moved back to the designated landing ground. Spartan felt a moment of relief wash over him at seeing they had all of them, until one stopped and grabbed at his armour.
“There’s one more, in the pit!”
Spartan hadn’t been told that one of the Helion soldiers was actually a human officer, but right now that meant little. He looked to the direction pointed by the marine, and then saw the dark hole in the ground.
“There?”
The man nodded just as Spartan spotted seven Helion fighters making for it. He began moving as he called out to Khan.
“Khan, get them back. The prisoners are the priority.”
Khan did exactly as ordered and escorted the hostages to two spaces already cleared by some of the Grunts. Green streaks blasted out from the other Maverick suits in all directions as they continued rampaging throughout the enemy position. Spartan blasted the enemy soldiers with his arm-mounted coilguns, but as he reached the halfway point, he found the four Vanguards. They moved out from the dust and headed towards the pit, roughly the same distance away as him.
“1st and 2nd Squads with me!”
Spartan increased his speed into a run just as the two squads of Grunts joined him. The armoured shapes moved quickly, but Spartan with his motor assisted armour made it first. He leapt over the pit and into the path of four Vanguards. Four Grunts dropped into the pit to get the prisoner; the others formed up on Spartan’s flanks. With his right arm he pointed at the Vanguards.
“Those do not belong to you.”
They were definitely Vanguards, but there was something about the modifications made that didn’t sit right with him. The extra armour would do little, but many of the weapons were gone, probably due to lack of spares and ammunition. In their place were Helion thermal weapons and objects that looked like harpoons.
“Drop ‘em!”
One harpoon embedded itself in a Grunt, and two more were vaporised by thermal gunfire. At the same time, Spartan went on the rampage. At this distance his HEC-1 cannon blasted chunks off the Vanguards. Though powerful, the weapon was limited against armour conditioned for similar threats, and Vanguard suits contained carbon plates in key areas.
“They’re clear,” said Khan.
While listening to his friend on the audio channel, he activated the close quarter mode on his arms and proceeded to batter and smash two of the Vanguards into a mass of broken metal. The other two staggered back and blasted apart another two Grunts. One took aim at the prisoner being taken away to the landing zone. A large machine blocked the path.
“I don’t think so,” said Khan.
The thermal weapons opened up, discharging shell after shell into the plating of the massive warrior. Each round ripped off chunks, but it was too little, too late. He then took aim and blasted the head cleanly off one of the machines. Even as the machine collapsed, he kept firing a stream of rounds directly into the next target. As the projectiles struck, he roared with delight.
“Nice timing!”
Spartan jumped amongst them and blasted the small number of Helion fighters now running for cover. One of the Vanguards came close, and he grabbed it with both arms and hurled it towards Khan. Normally, this would have been an impossible, almost herculean task, but not for him inside the Maverick armour. The enemy warrior landed at the feet of Khan, who promptly demolished it with the efficiency of an industrial machine in a junkyard. Just one more tried to put up a fight, but Spartan reserved a shot from his HEC-1 cannon for that very purpose. At a range of three metres it punched a hole through the armour and exploded inside.
“Prisoners are secure,” said Lieutenant Armstrong.
Spartan couldn’t see him, but the IFF tag showing on one of the dropships as it landed confirmed he was inside and helpers were getting the prisoners to safety. Robotic Grunts manned the flanks of the craft as they clambered inside, while above a lone Hammerhead rushed past with its guns blazing.
Good work, people, damned good work.
Two bullets bounced off Spartan’s collar, and it snapped him back to the fight. Without thinking, he spotted a vehicle packed with enemy combatants and tagged it. The HEC-1 cannon turned to the right and fired just as the massive gun on the back of the vehicle opened fire. Two Grunts w
ere gut down before the energy blast struck it. Spartan glanced at Khan before turning his attention on the attackers.
“All units. Friendlies are out of the area. It’s time to reclaim this sector. Begin Phase Two; sweep and clear!”
Khan blasted one of the towers. The remaining Grunts fanned out, hunting down fighters wherever they found them. With the prisoners secure, it became a bloodbath as the Maverick armoured marines blasted a swathe through the area. Grunts ran amok, scattering the enemy in panic. Many more were destroyed in combat, but not before securing a total and complete victory.
In less than twenty minutes, the IAB had pacified the area so thoroughly, the Marine Corps armoured column had nothing to do but take away the wounded enemy prisoners, and to establish a small outpost. Spartan, Khan, and both Sergeant Tyler and Lieutenant Armstrong approached. They moved slowly, and Spartan could see the left leg of the Lieutenant’s armour was badly mangled and being dragged behind.
“Interesting fight,” said Sergeant Tyler.
Spartan and Khan looked at him, and the vast number of dents and marks on his armour. Even a thermal blast hole had burnt right through the suit’s wrist and out the other side. It was the damage on the Lieutenant’s leg that got most of the attention.
“Next time, maybe don’t let them hit you,” suggested Khan.
Spartan laughed.
“Yeah, you’re one to talk, old friend. Still, we did the job, but what was the cost?”
Khan nodded and looked to the right where newly arrived Marine units were using large exoskeleton Combat Engineering Suits to move the remains of the shattered Grunts. They were from the so-called Solar Warriors, and none looked overly excited to be there. The Grunts looked sad, as they lay broken and smashed throughout the compound. Some had just lost a limb or weapon; others were riddled with bullets or blown up.
Ghost Soldiers Page 3
