“If you prefer, you can all continue to walk around me on eggshells or you can just relax. I know which I’d like better.”
“Well, chief.” Stanford turned his head and spit. “We’re not used to BattleMasters wanting to shoot the breeze with us.”
“Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, sergeant, but I’m not like other BattleMasters.”
Chuckles floated among the group.
“That’s an understatement.” Stanford smiled.
Finally, these guys are starting to soften.
A baby-faced private raised his hand.
Stanner smiled and nodded at him. “If there’s something you want to ask me, private, just ask.”
“Okay.” He glanced to his right and left. “What’s with the black suits?”
“The material is a graphene and Kevlar mesh. It’s effective against shrapnel and rifle shots from long range. It’s also surprisingly comfortable and breathes better than you’d think. As for the black, I think they do that ‘cause it looks badass.”
More chuckles.
The private cocked his head. “No helmet?”
“Something on your head is really distracting while you’re controlling your drones. I’m not sure why, but it’s true.”
Eleven heads nodded.
That did it. The floodgates were opened. Question after question came from the squad about everything from where he grew up to what was the BattleMaster barracks like.
Someone asked to see a Wasp. Stanner closed his eyes and brought one out of the box, hovering it in front of everyone before landing it at the feet of the corporal who’d asked about it. He picked it up, turning it in his hands to examine every angle before passing it on.
Stanford took it. “Doesn’t look like much.”
“No, it’s not. Not until there’s a whole well-coordinated swarm coming at you. Then I guarantee you’d be pissing your pants.” Stanner hooked his thumb at the truck. “That’s just the first shipment. More are being printed back at base and will be sent up here in bulk.”
Stanford tossed the Wasp into the air.
Stanner connected with it and stated up the rotor before it reached the apex of the throw. It dropped straight down for two seconds and then zipped off in a wild pattern of turns as it weaved through the trees. Circling it back to the group, the Wasp fired its tiny laser, burning precise holes into a tree trunk.
Shot after shot leapt ahead as the small craft barreled straight for the tree, stopping on a dime in front of it. The Wasp zipped off and landed back in the box exactly where it left from.
The group was in awed silence. They gathered around the trunk, gaping at the display. A perfect V had been dotted onto the bark.
“For victory.” Stanner rose from the log.
Stanford regarded him. “Chief, don’t worry about anything when the bullets start flying. We’ve got your back.”
“I appreciate that, sergeant. I won’t be able to do it without you all.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Multiple missile lock warnings blared in Stephanie’s head. She barely had time to process the information before inbound air-to-air fast movers appeared on her screen. Five red icons shot through the sky, intent on knocking her from the clouds.
Her craft responded as one. Nine banked hard right while one unit fell behind. The trailing drone dumped chaff and the other nine climbed on full power. When the interference cleared, all the enemy missiles were locked on the sacrificial lamb.
She set the lone drone on max acceleration and put it out of her mind. It was time to go hunting,
“Air Command,” she communicated with the BattleMaster network without moving her lips, “where the hell did those come from? I’ve got nothing on the scope.”
“Dummy balloon attack, Hotshot.”
That pissed her off. The Chinese sometimes deployed air-to-air missile pods on balloons, setting them in clouds and powered down until the final second. They were difficult to detect and you couldn’t predict when you’d run into one. They weren’t a wildly effective weapon, but they’d managed to cost her a drone.
“Shit,” she said over the network.
“Forget about it. You’ve got bigger problems. Inbound Dragon Fortress heading straight for you.”
“Damn.”
“It’s not all bad, Hotshot. It looks like this is their air power for this sector. We’re diverting assets to you. Give ‘em a hard time but don’t get yourself caught in a pitched fight you can’t win.”
“Roger that, AC.”
The com-link cut and she put her craft on auto to leap back into her body. Eyes shooting open, she slapped the nearest soldier on the back. “Call for transport. Get me as close to the frontline as you can.”
Her consciousness reabsorbed into the link, leaving her barely aware of her bodyguards carrying her to an all-purpose utility vehicle, APUV, the most recent incarnation of the Army Jeep. She’d been careless, allowing herself to fall too far behind the cutting edge. The lengthened ping was a disadvantage she couldn’t afford against a Chinese Dragon Fortress.
The DFs were actually based on a system the old US Air Force developed in the 2020s. It utilized a converted B-52 as the core of an integrated aerial combat platform. The behemoths were loaded to the hilt with missiles and early laser cannons and connected to drones and manned F-35 fighters to send a wall of coordinated fire at the enemy.
The tactic was highly successful in defeating the numerically superior Chinese air power in the Battle of the South China Sea in 2025. That was a pivotal victory in the defense of several Asian nations and plunged China into decades of political and economic darkness.
Never too proud to steal a good idea, the colonial Chinese adopted the concept for the fighting on New Calcutta.
At the core of the modern version was, again, a massive flying battlewagon full of missiles and drone controllers. The close proximity of the mothership increased the effectiveness of its minions. They weren’t on on par with BattleMasters, though, and counted on sheer mass to equalize the contest.
Stephanie wanted to be as close to her own warriors to minimize the time it took her commands to reach execution.
In the back of her mind, she felt the vehicle’s jerking stop and heard an intense exchange of fire. It seemed to be miles away, but she knew that was an illusion. Death was all around her.
Shutting out her physical world completely, she concentrated on the battle above.
A storm of steel headed for her. One hundred and fifty craft, each a third of the size of her own but deadly in packs, headed straight for her. She’d given all the ground she could. Any more would endanger the ground forces below. Help was still minutes away. She had to make a stand.
Nine flying spearheads turned and charged the enemy formation. At maximum weapon range, she fired volley after volley of hot energy into the horde, whose smaller, shorter-ranged armaments couldn’t answer. It achieved little damage save for confusing their sensors and burning out the optics on a number of them.
The two forces closed at high speed. Before entering enemy range, Stephanie divided her forces into three pairs and one group of three. They jetted off in different directions at gees that would’ve killed a human pilot.
The pairs poured on more acceleration and pulled back into a loop, aiming to skim the top of the enemy formation. The lone trio dove to undercut them. They were making a play for the enemy’s rear. Lasers reached out to scorch their hulls but they were too close for many of the Chinese units in the horde to add their weapons.
The Dragon Fortress had an obvious weakness. Take out the mothership and its children became stupid, easy kills for a skilled BattleMaster.
That wasn’t to say that taking one out was an easy task. In addition to short-range air-to-air missiles and laser point defenses, the fortresses kept a healthy combat air patrol nearby at all times, more than enough to defend against Stephanie’s attacking nine.
Yet history had shown DF commanders to be a nervous so
rt. Fear that a lucky suicidal pack of drones could strike a decisive blow against the tempting target made them quick to overreact to any threat.
As predicted, the Chinese converged everything they had on her speeding kamikaze. The mass of flying metal behind her reversed course while the DF CAP barreled headlong to intercept. No less than two dozen missiles were locked on and burning hard.
In unison, the trio pulled up into a vertical climb as the pairs aimed straight down. The two groups passed each other at incredible velocity. Wind currents hit her drones so hard her physical form reacted by waving from side to side.
Decoys released as their paths crossed. Strings of chaff burst out moments later, before the drones began banking toward the DF. The missiles took the bait, homing in on the floating balls broadcasting the signature of an American fighter.
Stephanie was on the hunt. Her pulse quickened with excitement. She zoomed her optics onto the beast. One hundred and sixty yards long, a forty-yard-wide fuselage and the longest wingspan ever built by man. It was an imposing foe even without its defenses.
She didn’t care that the odds were against her. Today was hers and she’d take the fight right down their throats.
***
The ridge on the far side of the river came alive with muzzle flashes and tracer rounds when the boats were halfway across. Veech watched helplessly as the inflatables were ripped apart and the men inside fell dead into the water.
“Shit.” Olsen shook his head. “I guess this is where they’re going to make a stand.”
Veech sat down, leaning against the captured foxhole’s edge. “It’s where I’d do it.”
Hart’s voice crackled over the com-link. “We’ve got new orders, sergeant.”
“Don’t tell me we’re getting in the next set of rafts?”
“Hell, no. The company is running upriver till we find a place to cross. Fall back and rendezvous with transport.”
“Transport?” Veech had a hard time remembering the last time he didn’t have to run or walk to a fight. “We’re getting a ride?”
“We need to move fast. Pull back. I’m sending you coordinates.”
“On our way.” Veech slapped Olsen on the helmet. “We’re moving out.”
Veech crawled out and ran for the rear, crouched low until the terrain protected him. Soldiers from the company trickled in from the water’s edge and lingered by the side of the road.
A honking horn pulled his attention deeper into their lines. He was expecting it to be their trucks but a single APUV rocketed toward him. A group of troops too close to the trail had to jump back to avoid getting hit. His gaze followed it as it sped by.
Olsen pointed at it. “I think Stanner’s girl was in there.”
“Who?”
“You know, Captain Butler.”
“Oh. Didn’t see her.” Veech cocked his head. “She’s dating Stanner?”
“Yeah. How could you not know that?”
Veech shrugged. “Don’t confuse ignorance with not giving a damn about you peoples’ personal lives.”
Four trucks pulled up and the troops piled in. Veech tossed in his pack and took the hand offered to help him up. Within a few minutes, the miniature convey was bouncing off-road parallel to the river.
The shocks could only do so much and his older body wasn’t holding up as well as those of the kids in his platoon. Fifteen minutes of rough going had him shifting in his seat in a vain attempt to take some of the pressure off his joints.
Olsen leaned toward him. “How far we going?”
The truck dipped. Its front axle slammed into the ground, sending a violent vibration through the frame. Veech grimaced. “As far as we have to and not a foot more.”
Olsen looked like he might say something when a thunderous boom overhead, back toward where they’d come, filled the air. Heads turned and gazed up to see a brilliant fireball in the sky. Bits of burning debris fanned out and fell to the surface, leaving smoking trails in their wake.
“What the hell was that?” Olsen tipped his helmet up for a better view.
Veech yawned. “Don’t know and don’t care. It doesn’t have anything to do with us until we’re told otherwise.”
***
The enemy CAP divided in two. Fifteen climbed to meet the three drones above the battle space and thirty-five arched down to head off Stephanie’s other six.
Stephanie checked the broader picture on her sensor feeds. She had an idea on how to deal with the CAP but wasn’t sure she could still outrun the horde on her tail. Expecting the display to show a closing mess of red dots, she had to do a double take when she saw the main force breaking off pursuit.
What the...
“Hotshot, this is Viper leading Sky Queen, Prancer, White Tail, and Avenger. The cavalry has arrived. We got your back. Do whatever you can against your bogeys. Soften ‘em up for us to finish.”
“Roger, Viper. Welcome to the party.” And I’ll do more than soften them up.
Diving her group of three hard, they aimed themselves at the main CAP force and picked up speed. Their tails let loose the last of their decoys and chaff. Nine missiles dropped from their bellies and zipped ahead. Laser cannons fired shot after shot into the formation scrambling to counter the new threat.
Six more fast movers, one apiece, from her larger strike team joined the chaos.
The DF controllers were disorganized but not without means. Alarms blared in Stephanie’s mind as multiple locks turned to a fresh counterwave of missiles. There were too many for her to evade. Fortunately, she wasn’t counting on having to.
She diverted power to sensors, giving her a high definition accounting of the battle. Using the enhanced picture, she locked her launched missiles onto clusters of enemy fast movers and set them for proximity detonation.
The tiny icons merged and a surge of heat and energy whited out that section of the sky for several seconds. When it faded back into clarity, a clean path was revealed. Many of the enemy missiles had been destroyed outright. More were sent spinning out of control by the shockwave or had their tracking knocked out and flew on straight lines, out of the fight.
She didn’t escape without loss, however. The three that dove to aid the main thrust fell to a cloud of missiles that caught up to them from the interceptors they’d avoided till then.
Gravity repellers were pushed beyond their design capabilities. Her drone’s hulls vibrated from the strain and she could feel it manifest in her bones.
Her remaining six were aimed at the heart of the enemy formation. Bolts of energy burned into her lead craft that shielded those behind. The three in front fired their last ordnance before they were too damaged to continue.
The vanguard shattered, driving into the enemy formation at hypersonic speeds. Chunks collided with opposing drones. The force of impact obliterated craft, sending more hunks of metal into the air. Puffs of black smoke rose from the devastation.
Stephanie plowed through the chaos with her two remaining units. They emerged on the other side of hell as she shouted, “Ooh rah!” on the open channel. Clear skies and one monster were all she saw.
It was enormous, the personification of invincible. She was David and it was Goliath. What chance did she have against that? Screw it!
Stephanie pointed her noses at the target and charged. The odds were long but she couldn’t find the will to back down.
“Hold on, Hotshot,” a new voice said in her head. “I’ll take it from here. Circle back to the rear.”
“Who is this?” Who dared tell her to stop the hunt while her blood was up? Her mind’s eye studied the sensor data but couldn’t find the contact. “Where are you?”
“This is Princess. I’ve been running low and quiet, cutting grass while you’ve kept ‘em occupied. I got it from here. Break off and save the hardware.”
A IFF signal pinged her as the new squadron popped onto her view. Princess was practically under the DF. Stephanie banked away. The new contacts below went vertical, rising a
thousand feet and then launching their entire complement of missiles. Laser cannons fired away, burning point defenses with each shot.
Thirty fast movers rose. The enemy reached down to knock several out but it was too late and not enough. Ten slammed into the tail section, ripping it off. Its nose dipped and swirled until something went critical and the mighty vessel exploded into a ball of flames.
Cheers erupted on the com-link. None louder than Stephanie.
“It’s a turkey shoot now!” Viper declared. “Join the party, Hotshot.”
“On my way.”
***
Veech rubbed his hands together as he knelt in the mud. The cold water of the river chilled him to the bone during their crossing. It had been one of the more unnerving things he’d ever done as a soldier. Wading into the open, helpless except for a prayer that a fire team of well-placed Chinese infantry wouldn’t open up and kill them like ducks in a barrel.
God or dumb luck answered his plea and they made it without incident. Math, in the end, provably had more to do with their easy crossing. The river was simply too long to cover.
The colonies weren’t big enough to field armies truly capable of waging war across a continent, let alone a planet. That made their battle more fluid, like running sword fights on horseback. The war had only continued this long because each side had been hesitant to commit to large-scale engagements, opting to wait and see while small-scale encounters shifted the lines, all the while hoping for the perfect opportunity, which never came.
That had all changed when the Americans launched the offensive against the Euros, who were happy to meet them in the field with their surprises. Now they were doing it to the Chinese and the war would be over soon. The dying and suffering would end with a victor.
This ate at Veech. What had changed that caused the players to be ready for a resolution even if they weren’t guaranteed to win? And why the hell did they have to spend years in the mud poking each other in the eye when they could’ve just ended the whole fucking thing with a few months of all-out fighting?
BattleMaster (The BattleMaster Corps Book 1) Page 29
