BattleMaster (The BattleMaster Corps Book 1)

by Nathaniel Danes

  Stanner was out from behind cover almost before the first detonation. At a dead sprint, his aim was ineffective. His shots went wide, went high or plowed into the dirt, but the boldness of the charge kept the enemy on their heels.

  His wild fire was soon joined by seven more. Their fire superiority at the point of attack began to tell as enemy soldiers dropped to the ground like puppets with their strings cut.

  Movement off to the right caught Stanner’s attention. The ramp to the command APC was rising. He flung his hand at it. “Cover me!”

  Bullets whizzed past him, their whistles ticking his ears. His rifle’s mag ran empty. No time to reload, so he pumped more energy into his legs as he pulled a grenade free with his left hand. Enemy soldiers moved to counter him but were forced to take refuge under a hail of fire.

  The APC was inches from sealing itself when Stanner lunged, stretching out the arm holding the grenade and released it. It bounced off the closing slab and dropped into the vehicle as it sealed.

  He landed flat next to the APC and the wind was knocked out of him. Muffled panic inside the armored shell was replaced with a bang.

  Stanner struggled to regain his breath as he became the focal point of the firefight. Olsen and three others formed a makeshift perimeter around him.

  Olsen dragged Stanner to better cover next to the APC. Stanner propped himself against the vehicle and regained his composure. The enemy was closing in from all sides.

  Stanner fumbled with his rifle as he tried to insert a new mag when Olsen took it and slapped in a fresh one. Handing it back, Olsen said, “We have to move.”

  Stanner nodded and got on his feet. The APC provided excellent protection on one side, but the others only had a few supply creates to hide behind. Euros were flanking them. “We need to get back to the truck yard.”

  Stanner poked his head around and jerked back. A storm of bullets bounded off the armor where he’d dared to look around. “Shit!”

  Olsen threw a grenade in response. “Any other bright ideas?”

  “Pray.” Stanner put a finger on his earbud. “This is Corporal Stanner. My fire team is surrounded. Transmitting location and requesting immediate support!”

  ***

  Stephanie could feel the land-train moving like a bat out of hell despite her best efforts to ignore the bumps and sharp turns. The distraction made controlling a land and aerial combination that much harder. A headache had started between her eyes and it grew in intensity with each second.

  Taking a long deep breath, she tried losing herself in the link like a swimmer floating without moving a muscle.

  Her drones were reaping a bountiful harvest of death outside. The mini-tank chewed up earth as it zoomed through the enemy camp as fast as she could go. It was her berserker, on a rampage to inflict as much damage as possible in the shortest amount of time.

  It had entered the fray after the initial surprise attack, and now it took full advantage of its Identification: Friend or Foe signal that allowed her to move almost uncontested. Dozens of Euro troopers had fallen prey because they learned too late the welcome sight of friendly armor was in fact there to mow them down. She’d cleared the way for the infantry to spread out and follow up on her success.

  The aerial unit was her guardian. It cruised above the ground a yard higher than the land-train to avoid and confuse Euro anti-air assets once they recognized her for what she was. It tracked her position, running interference for the snaking vehicle’s demolition derby.

  Red streaks stabbed down to incinerate Euro troopers and slag anything of apparent value.

  She was saving the missiles on both units for something special.

  Her kill count climbed by the second, but she hadn’t found what she came to destroy. We’re not close enough to the front. Their BattleMasters are not here.

  Stephanie opened a link with Veech. “Sergeant, we need to get out of here and head for the front. I’ve done all I can do here. The infantry is giving them enough trouble on their own.”

  “Roger that, lieutenant. We need to make one quick stop first.”

  ***

  Veech closed the channel with Stephanie and swerved to run over a pair of Euro soldiers sprinting for cover. They were too consumed with avoiding getting shot to notice him.

  It was a cheap kill, but Sergeant Veech had seen enough war to know you took what you were given. Honor at the end of the day didn’t matter as much as who lived and who died.

  The com chirped. “I repeat, we are surrounded. Can anyone assist? Transmitting our location.”

  Veech glanced at the tactical display plotting his course to Stanner’s location. Hold on for another twenty seconds.

  The land-train lurched to the side from a heavy impact. Alarm icons flashed on the engineering screen. They were still under power and the com array transmitted the jamming signal, but that wasn’t any guarantee if they took many more of whatever the heck that was.

  “Lieutenant!”

  “On it, sarge.”

  The APC Stanner was hunkered behind came into view. The enemy was circling around to their weak side in force. Veech turned the steering-wheel to park four-hundred tons of mass along the exposed portion.

  The sight of a land-train rolling up on their flank sent most of the enemy soldiers scurrying to the sides. Some, overcome with shock, held their ground with small-arms.

  Hundreds of rounds deflected off the armored monster as it ground over the foolish opponents.

  He floored the brakes, dipping the cockpit’s nose low as the metal snake came to a stop. “Get in!” he hollered into the com.

  He watched on the side camera feeds as Stanner’s team laid down brutal covering fire and slipped into the hatches he’d unlocked for them.

  Handheld rockets impacted multiple sections of the train, ripping apart plating and knocking off tracks. The wounds only affected empty compartments and the vehicle was designed to operate with just a fraction of its track sections in place.

  Veech punched the accelerator. Dozens of treads churned up the soil, kicking it into the air. “Hold on! This is gonna get bumpy.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The aerial drone picked up the primary targets first, Stephanie zoomed in to study the Euro BattleMasters. Pairs of them were secured in foxholes, and their body language revealed their agitation.

  A devilish smirk crossed her lips. Yeah, I’d be losing my shit too, if I lost contact with my drones.

  Neither they or the forces around them appeared to be concerned with what might approach from the rear. It seemed too good to be true.

  She opened a com-link with Veech. “I don’t think they know what’s happening in their rear. How did we get so lucky?”

  “Must’ve killed the right officers and destroyed the right gear by chance.” Veech cleared his throat. “You ready to do it again? We’re light on infantry support.”

  “The tank is down to forty percent on ammo, but she’s still got all of her rockets. The flyer is good on fuel and ready to rock. I’m going to engage now before they get warned.”

  “Understood, sir. We won’t be far behind.”

  Putting the mini-tank on auto, Stephanie turned her full attention to the aerial drone. The sole focus on her preferred vocation felt like putting on a favorite pair of jeans. Her headache began to recede and the tension in her shoulders lessened.

  The aerial drone’s engine pushed it well ahead of the land-train. Pulling back on its virtual stick sent it up to five hundred feet in a few seconds. She cut the thrust and directed all power to the laser, pointed the nose down and glided.

  I’m the angel of death, come to smite all of you bastards.

  Again and again the thunderbolt of glistening red hammered the wicked below. The first four pairs of BattleMasters perished without even realizing they were in danger.

  Surprise is a fleeting asset on the field of battle, though, and counter-fire soon rose up to confront her. The craft’s tough shell brushed off the petty small-a
rms while more powerful weapons were reoriented.

  Stephanie dropped the bird to the floor ahead of the missiles she knew were soon to follow. This reduced the effective time she had to eliminate targets, but the tradeoff for security was fair.

  More enemy BattleMasters fell before her or suffered enough damage to themselves or their operating systems to render them useless to the day’s outcome.

  Warnings blared in her mind’s eye. Missiles, a lot of them, were tracking and closing on her fast.

  With just moments to live, the drone banked toward the American line, locked onto six full-sized Goliaths and loosed its remaining ordnance while aiming its nose at another. The last images the doomed machine sent were of its arrows stinging the giants in the back and a close up view of its own target.

  The feed winked out and Stephanie’s full mind was abruptly in the mini-tank speeding beside the land-train. She became aware enough of herself to feel the sweat soaking her body and heaving breaths filling her lungs.

  Let’s finish this!

  ***

  “What’s the sit, sarge?” Stanner stuffed his pockets with as much ammo and grenades as he could carry.

  Veech chuckled. “The lieutenant just lit up a large swath of the pricks, but they’re still not onto this particular vehicle, so I’m running us further up their line to find fresh targets. ETA one minute.”

  “Understood.” Stanner closed the com-link and turned to his squad of troops. He’d added the security detail originally assigned to Stephanie to the fire tram’s worth of manpower rescued from around the smoking command APC. “Double-check your ammo. Operate in pairs and go nuts. We’re outnumbered and outgunned. Shock and awe are the only things we have going for us. Thirty seconds, people!”

  Olsen slapped his helmet. “I’m with the corporal.”

  Stanner turned to nod at his friend and locked eyes with Stephanie. Her eyes were glazed over, her mind immersed in the link. Still, seeing her calmed his fear.

  “Ten seconds!” Veech boomed as the land-train struggled to stop.

  “Go, go, go!” Stanner waved his men on when the bay door opened. He jumped down ahead of the ramp, found the first woman he could and put a three-round burst in her chest before her bewildered expression turned to action.

  Rapid action and mass chaos ensued when the rest of his squad sent bullets at anything with a pulse. The squad moved up the enemy line of foxholes, overpowering each hard point with concentrated effort from ten rifles. Grenades and the land-train’s bulk kept the group’s flanks cleared.

  Their charge’s swiftness and boldness allowed them to roll up the Euro line further than they should’ve simply by virtue of their numbers. The enemy was professional, though, and soon moved to counter Stanner’s team.

  Stanner knew the dynamic had changed when the next holes in their path came alive with at least six rifles apiece — too many to overwhelm. “Get down!” he shouted, as if his team needed someone to tell them that.

  Stanner dove backward into the uncovered graves of his latest victims. Their corpses cushioned his fall. Detonating smart-bullets peppered him from overhead.

  The metallic rain ceased. He poked his head over the edge to find three of his comrades hadn’t been so lucky. Ahead, the enemy rallied its forces outside his reach. Soon the table would finish its turn and he’d be overwhelmed in his own grave.

  He moved to make a run for it but a surge in enemy fire convinced him otherwise.

  Stanner dropped back down. “Crap!”

  Dark thoughts of pending doom swirled in his mind when a new source of carnage announced itself from his rear. At first he assumed he’d been surrounded, but the rattling of tank trends raised his spirits.

  Stephanie!

  The drone parked next to him. Its twin fifties panned side to side and it loosed its rockets. Stanner popped up and added his rifle to the mix.

  For a fraction of a second Stanner considered a renewal of the assault with Stephanie leading the way. Another look deeper into the Euro positions in front and under the land-train on his right made him think otherwise.

  The surprise was over. Hundreds of enemy soldiers approached on two sides. He’d be damn lucky to escape. The land-train reversed and pulled behind him.

  A small rocket hit the tank’s front armor, twisting metal and knocking a track off. Its guns kept firing.

  “Get out of there!” Stephanie yelled on the com-link.

  Tossing the last of his grenades, Stanner jumped up and ran like hell for the open bay door. Stephanie slipped out from around the side and gave what cover she could with a rifle.

  The ramp hadn’t fully lowered so he leapt head-first. Two others landed next to him. Sparks flew off the back wall from solid slugs ricocheting and bits of shrapnel tinged off the floor.

  Stephanie threw herself back against cover and hit the close button with her elbow. “Get us the fuck out of here, sarge!”

  The large vehicle lunged forward. Stanner dared to believe they’d make it when his world was rocked by violent concussions. The bay shook, throwing him into the air. He landed like a brick and the compartment hit with a bang. It jerked and one end fell further, slanting the room.

  A full body ache soaked into his bones. He wanted to get up and run, or at least die on his feet. It had all been too much, though. Wounded several times and pushing his endurance to its limits for days on end, he had nothing left to give.

  This is where I’m gonna die. I hope dad will at least be proud of what I did. Who am I kidding?

  Acceptance gave him a sense of peace. He’d done everything he could to win the war and now he could let go without regret.

  He felt pressure on his left hand. Turning his head to look, he saw it was Stephanie who’d reached out to grip it. Her breathing was labored. She licked her lips. “It’s been fun.”

  Stanner grinned. “I’m afraid to ask what you do for second dates.”

  A half laugh came out before she grimaced and wrapped her free arm across her stomach. “Don’t make me laugh.”

  Muffled German voices came from outside to wipe the happy expression from his face.

  Stephanie glanced at the bent bay door and back at him. “Any bright ideas?”

  “I’m fresh out.”

  The volume of the distant words increased.

  ***

  “This is it,” Kyle muttered to himself through dry, cracked lips. His army was being destroyed before his eyes and it broke his heart.

  For a fleeting moment he tricked himself into believing there was a chance. The surprise counterattack with hidden BattleMaster forces had wrecked whole sections of the enemy line, but the Euro reserves were too deep and they steamrolled over the inferior foe.

  Stripped of their armor, the first line of defense was minutes from breaking. All the second line had to offer was a thin layer of infantry and the last BattleMasters on this side of the continent.

  Captain Luke Lynchburg cleared his throat. “Sir, General Pendergast is on the com again for you. What do you want me to tell her? She’s fully aware of the situation.”

  Kyle wanted to talk to her. To say he was sorry and to say good-bye. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too ashamed to look her in the eyes. The thought of her disappointment was bad enough; seeing it would break him, and he needed to be strong for just a little longer.

  “Tell her...” Kyle sighed. “Tell her I love her.”

  “Sir?” Luke cocked his head.

  Kyle picked up his rifle and slid the bolt back to chamber a round. “You heard me, captain. The breach of protocol is a pretty pointless concern for me at this point, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Understood, sir.”

  Kyle faced the carnage of his creation and took a step, ready to throw himself into the fire. He ignored the alert chime that came from his command station. Luke knew what to do and with a little luck, his loyal aide might somehow survive the day.

  “Sir!” Luke shouted. “Something is happening.”

&
nbsp; Kyle turned. “What do you mean? Is the line breaking?” That wasn’t exactly news. He was expecting to have to wade past fleeing troopers to get at the advancing Euros.

  “No, sir!” Luke’s face was slack as if he couldn’t process the information spinning in his head. “It’s the Euros. Their drones are acting … funny.”

  Kyle narrowed his eyes. “They’re holding their position?”

  “No, sir. Most are starting and stopping. Others are still attacking but piecemeal and uncoordinated. Both land and air units.”

  Running back to the terminals, Kyle absorbed the data flowing in from the front line and above. Luke was right, the enemy drones were screwed up. The attacking enemy infantry had suddenly been caught in the open without effective support and were getting cut to pieces.

  It made no sense. Kyle didn’t understand the why or how, but he knew an opportunity when fate handed him one. He stared at Luke. “All units attack, now! All reserves attack at once, too. Call in every last aerial unit we’d held back. We’re committing everything. Now.”

  The aide didn’t delay. The orders shot out at the speed of light and live chess pieces moved into place.

  Kyle had to remind himself to breath as he watched events unfold in disbelief. What the hell is going on? Please, God, don’t let it end.

  ***

  Reba swung her rifle to the right to fire a series of bursts at a squad of retreating Euro soldiers. The poor bastards hadn’t stood a chance against the dug-in Americans without drone support. The few remaining Goliaths were too far in the rear to help. Surviving infantry got the hint and were running for the rear, leaving the stupid and sputtering drone hulks alone.

  She’d seen drones act like this before. Sputtering, jerky actions of most of the Euro units had to be from link issues. The connection was being cut and reestablishing again and again, like something was interfering with it. Some drones still attacked, but they did so as clumsy loners. That had to be because the link was completely severed and no one was trying to take control.