BattleMaster (The BattleMaster Corps Book 1)

by Nathaniel Danes

  The foreman locked eyes with the smaller man and saw the raw intensity. He bobbed his head. “I’ll put my best driver on it. That’s all I can do.”

  “Thank you. That’s all I ask of anyone, in the end.”

  Chapter Forty

  Captain Randle Yale peered at the ultimate target through his helmet’s optics. He was staring at the end of the war. Shangri-La sat atop a hill that had its peak shaved off to lay out a purpose-built walled city.

  Steam rose from exhaust stacks reaching high above the thirty-foot carbon and steel barrier rimmed with cannons of every kind. The interior was packed with plain square buildings.

  He checked the HUD on his visor. His recon team was nearing the completion of their primary search. No one had reported in, which was a good sign. They would only have sent a message if they’d found something or were in trouble.

  A small high altitude recon drone spied inside the city and had found the same so far. Nothing moved except the last of the Dragon Fortresses circling overhead.

  “Maybe those assholes in military intelligence are right,” he muttered to himself. “Maybe they are spent. Nothing left to take the fight to us.”

  The Chinese had suffered badly after losing their air support earlier than they expected during the river crossing. They continued to conduct a fighting withdrawal, but you could sense them growing weaker with each day. The Army’s confidence blossomed and pushed harder.

  Yale low-crawled from one observation point to the next. He used every tool at his disposal, including his naked eyes, and found no threat. An hour later reports flooded in from his team. Like him, they’d found nothing to indicate the enemy could resist outside their walls.

  There was no trap in the area around Shangri-La.

  “Fall back to rally point Alpha.” Yale spun himself around and crawled away with a broad smile on his face.

  ***

  “All recon teams and drones reporting a clear path, sir.” Lynchburg handed Kyle a tablet with the intel summary on the screen.

  Kyle pursed his lips and scrolled with his index finger. “Nothing, huh? Um. It’s almost too perfect, wouldn’t you say, captain?”

  “I’ll admit that it does seem too good to be true.”

  “But...”

  “But...” Lynchburg spread out his open hands. “We knew they were low on men and hardware before our offensive, and we have taken a sizable chunk out of that. There’s an end of the line for everyone. This could very well be theirs.”

  Kyle sucked in a breath and held it. Maybe Luke was right. What about Samantha’s warning, though? She renewed her plea for caution after the crossing, saying the Chinese could still have hidden reserves by her calculations. Still, he couldn’t ignore what was in front of his face, and the enemy space-freighter convey was still on its way. He had to end this now.

  He exhaled, biting his lip to keep his acid-filled stomach from retching. “Execute phase one of the final attack plan. I want that city shelled until nothing is left standing. Move up the aerial BattleMasters. They’re to cover our forces and not engage unless attacked.”

  “Yes, sir.” Lynchburg hurried to his station to order the bombardment.

  Kyle gazed at the stronghold. What do you have waiting for us?

  ***

  “Prepare to fire!” Sergeant Hock ran to his hundred sixty millimeter cannon, beaming with glee at finally getting into the fight. He manned the controls.

  A private jammed a round in place, whipping the breechblock closed and turning his body clear of the action. “Ready!”

  The warfare on New Calcutta was mobile, with few concentrations of fixed assets warranting the deployment of the big guns. As a result, the Army didn’t invest much in weapons that rarely left HQ’s defensive garrison. These artillery pieces were outdated and simple but still packed a hell of a punch.

  It looked like he’d get his chance at the river, but the bastards pulled out before he was called up. Not today. Today the hell bringers were going to rain down fury on the wicked.

  Hock pressed the fire icon.

  Boom!

  “Reload!”

  “Ready!”

  Boom!

  Eleven other pieces joined the display of brute force. It felt like the air itself was being ripped open.

  Smoke rose above the walls. Hock grinned at the evidence of the power he wielded. Yes, today was a good day to be a cannon cocker.

  ***

  Veech strolled along the line of foxholes holding the last of Second Company’s combat-capable soldiers, forty in all. They’d been formed into a single platoon with Hart in command by virtue of being the only officer to make it this far unharmed.

  A cacophony of distant explosions thumped in the wind. Smoke scented the air, leaving a hint of ash on his tongue. He regarded the enemy city. Flames from an untold number of fires blazed out of control.

  Chinese artillery answered in-kind but had to make direct hits on scattered and well-shielded cannons to effect any damage.

  “All units,” a voice boomed in his ear, “prepare to advance! This is it. The war ends today!”

  “Hoo-rah!” rose from the men but died down when the metallic chimes of drones moving within their ranks drowned out their joyful noise.

  Hart jogged to his side. “Command wants to hit ‘em in force. Stay just ahead of the first wave of BattleMasters. Make sure no surprises take any out and watch the corners inside the city.”

  Veech frowned and nodded. He should be gleeful at the impending end of the war, but he couldn’t shake a feeling of doom. It seemed too easy that after years of war, it should end in an overwhelming victory. Then he thought of the battle in the woods and the men he’d lost. It didn’t feel easy anymore and his frown deepened.

  Hart slapped him on the upper arm. “Cheer up, sarge. We’re about to win.”

  “I’ll smile when the last cross-eyed son-of-a-bitch is either dead or captured.”

  “I’ll hold you to that, sergeant.” Hart moved to take position, turning his torso while switching his com to the unit channel. “Fight like devils and this will be the last battle. It ends today!”

  “Hoo-rah!” the men screamed.

  Veech didn’t make a sound save for his churning stomach. I hope so. God do I hope so.

  ***

  Roaring troops and stampeding metallic monsters surged past Stephanie. She didn’t notice them. She was tangling with the minions of the last Dragon Fortresses, keeping them from swooping down upon the final charge of the war.

  The sky above the city was a wicked storm of missiles and lasers. She banked a lone drone hard right to track a pair of bogies diving to escape the chaos long enough to strafe the forces below.

  “You’re not getting away from me.” Her craft closed and stabbed at their tails until they smoked and tumbled out of control.

  “Good work, Hotshot,” Air Command said. “Take your five and form up with Death Dealer and Spawn. The DF is moving in to join the fight. Give it something to think about.”

  “My pleasure. Hotshot out.”

  ***

  Reba advanced her person as far as she dared into the lowlands surrounding Shangri-La. Settling behind a rocky outcropping, she closed her eyes to fully focus on her bots.

  Mortar and artillery shells sent dirt raining down while sporadic machine gun fire tormented the infantry just ahead of her. Both lessened each time an aerial unit dipped down to make a strafing run. Her drones, three spiders and three mini-tanks, zigged and zagged to confuse enemy targeting.

  She bit her lip to hold herself back from hitting the acceleration to zoom by the slow apes and finish this war in the streets of the enemy capitol. No, not yet. Let the apes take the hits until we’re close. Then the real BattleMasters will end this.

  Three klicks out, her heart raced. Another klick and the sprint would begin. Come on!

  “Charge!” rang across the Corps’ com-link.

  Spider limbs broke out into broad strides and tank treads spun at m
aximum. In seconds she’d weaved through the infantry, almost running over a squad’s worth of men.

  Mortar rounds thwmooped from her tubes and laser bolts fired into the breaches she’d claimed as her entry points. She was determined to be the first inside.

  A klick out, she felt her mouth salivate at the taste of victory tickling her tongue.

  Her shells touched down along the wrecked wall and everything changed.

  “It can’t be,” she muttered to herself as her stomach plunged into her boots.

  ***

  Veech dug his feet into the ground to arrest his momentum. Nearly every soldier did the same without orders, putting separation between themselves and the drones’ undaunted charge.

  He gawked at what he saw, unable to speak or move.

  The side of the hill Shangri-La sat on fell away to reveal an army of waiting troops and deadly triple-turret tanks. A boom filled the air when they unleashed their first volley. Again and again their guns fired, sending a wall of steel into the attackers.

  Taken by surprise, the lead columns were shredded. American elements further back unloaded their stores as fast as they could and made a good accounting of themselves, but it wasn’t enough.

  Veech breathed for the first time in several seconds. “Fall back!” came from his mouth in reflex. It was a silly gesture, given that the entire line had already broken into panicked flight. A few soldiers tossed their rifles aside to run faster. He joined the horde and prayed for salvation.

  ***

  Kyle’s mind swirled with useless thoughts. How did they hide that from us? I’m a fool! I ruined us!

  “Sir!” Lynchburg thrusted a tablet in front of him but he couldn’t see it past the haze engulfing his mind. “Sir!” Lynchburg slapped him across the cheek. The sharp pain snapped him out of his trance and he looked at the screen. “Enemy armor is sweeping left and right with their infantry pushing up the middle. It’s a pincer movement, trying to encircle our entire force. What are your orders, sir?”

  Kyle worked the display with his fingers. His forces were falling back, fighting as best they could, but the Chinese weren’t interested in a slugfest. After the initial barrages that destroyed most of his armor, they kept their distance while racing to surround them. Artillery shifted to the attacking wings but were having almost no effect.

  “Divert all of our air support. Divide the reserves and send them against the columns. They have to buy time for....”

  “We don’t have enough troops or BattleMasters to stop one of them, let alone both. All of our aerial units are engaged with the DF. A few are breaking away but won’t be able to do much. The enemy troops have anti-air capability.”

  Lynchburg rubbed the back of his neck and wetted his dry lips. “I count seventy tanks in each wing plus the infantry at the center. I don’t know what we can do. We can’t outrun them or stand up to them. How do we get out of this hole?”

  “Hole.” Kyle’s head jerked up. “Ace in the hole!”

  Lynchburg stared at him.

  “Send the reserve drones in.” Kyle puffed out his chest, energy and confidence coming back to him. He hadn’t led his men here without a plan. “Any time they can buy is useful. Have our troops dig in where they are. They can’t escape and can’t be caught out in the open. Tell them...” He looked to the rear. “Tell them help is on the way.”

  ***

  Stanner sighed. I can’t believe I’m not gonna...

  “Mount up!”

  He whipped around to face Sergeant Stanford who kicked a napping soldier. “We’ve been activated! The chief’s going in and we’re going to watch his back.”

  Stanner sprinted for the APC. “Why wasn’t the order sent to me?”

  “Don’t know, sir.” Stanford tossed a pack into the carrier. “Major counterattack has command flustered.”

  “What? What’s going on?”

  “All I know is I have to get us in between a rock and a hard place.” Stanford buckled himself in. “I think you’re in for a world of hurt. Hope you’re up you’re up for it.”

  Stanner leapt into a seat and yanked his straps in place. The APC peeled out and bounced across the rough terrain as fast as it could go without losing the truck hauling the Wasps.

  “Someone tell me what the hell is going on!” Stanner gritted his teeth to absorb a jerk forward. “I’m going in blind, damn it.”

  His heart felt ready to burst out of his chest. Cold sweat poured from his forehead and his mouth was as dry as sand. He wanted in on the fight, but it was all happening so fast and desperately. The pressure was almost too much to bear.

  Stanford tossed him a tablet. He flipped it around and stared at it, bug-eyed. Holy shit. It was a major counterattack. The last gasp of an exhausted enemy against their equally-depleted opponent. It had taken the lead American elements by surprise, and that appeared to be carrying the Chinese to victory.

  “We’re going to get set right between the tips of each wing.” Stanford checked his load and jammed the mag back in.

  Stanner couldn’t breathe fast enough. “What are my orders?”

  “Kill as many of the fuckers as you can, sir. We’ll watch your back.”

  As quickly as it had taken off, the APC skidded to a stop. The harness pressing against his chest forced a breath out. He coughed to get it back as the door whined open.

  “Move, move, move!” Stanford ran out the door, weapon raised. More men filed out to establish a perimeter.

  Stanner tried to run but his boots felt like lead weights. He tripped over his own feet and stumbled out into the sunlight. It stunned his eyes. Raising an arm to block it, he felt a gentle breeze blow across him. The wind carried the soft thud of distant explosions and the growing rattle of tank tracks.

  He noticed everyone was staring at him. It took a couple of seconds for it to dawn on him. It was time for him to do his thing.

  Clearing his throat, he stood tall and walked to a natural depression the team was using for cover. He closed his eyes and connected with his Wasps in their box atop the flatbed not ten yards away. His mind swirled with a million thoughts.

  Fear of failure. Worries about Stephanie. Where was she? Was she already dead? These were just a few of the seemingly uncontrollable mental impulses that spoiled his concentration.

  “Contact!” a voice yelled. “We’re surrounded!”

  Stanner trembled as the first of the Wasps lifted off. They didn’t shoot out like in training; they trickled up.

  “We’re gonna die!”

  Small arms fire opened up all around him. The link flickered as more drones joined. Two hundred floated aimlessly among the squad. He couldn’t wrap his brain around them as he’d done a thousand times before.

  He divided the few airborne units and sent them at the tips of the enemy formations. They attacked in clusters of three and four, their tiny lasers having almost no effect on the thick armor of the main battle tanks. Machine gun fire knocked them out one by one.

  Shells exploded all around, spraying the ground with shrapnel. The APC burst apart to spread burning debris and casting them in a veil of smoke. A round tore the truck cab in half but left the flatbed intact.

  “We have to run!”

  “He can’t do it!”

  Stanner’s eyes shot open. I’m losing them.

  Then, an image flashed in his wondering mind. It was of him, Veech, and Stephanie in the Euro drone bay on the land-train. They almost died there but fought through the pain and terror to bring victory to their Army. Saving lives in the process.

  He’d been strong that day and the memory steeled his nerve.

  A private jumped to his feet to run. Stanner’s hand whipped out, gripped him by the belt and yanked him into the dirt. “Stay down.” He locked gazes with Stanford. “I got this.”

  The sergeant nodded. “Hold your position! Fire everything you got!”

  Stanner balled his fists and lowered his eyelids. Ten crystal clear windows opened, his consciousness was of o
ne purpose. Eighteen hundred Wasps emerged from their box, becoming a black cloud of looming destruction.

  The enemy columns were less than a hundred yards from completing their encirclement. There wasn’t time to concentrate on one at a time. The swarm instantly split and dove to within three feet of the ground. They charged in both directions in a bull’s horn formation.

  Nine hundred puny lasers lanced red pinpricks at the lead triple-turret tanks’ tracks, turning them to slag within seconds. They shook violently, coming to a dramatic stop. Naked wheels spun trenches into the soil.

  He left them defensively capable but unable to advance another inch. Moving onto another two, he repeated the low strike again and again.

  The juggernaut started to resemble a junk yard by the time they reacted in force.

  Turrets and machine gun ports dipped to throw all they had at the gnats. The ground exploded with smoke and flying dirt. It was like trying to kill flies with swords, but there were a lot of swords and targets.

  Stanner felt the sting of loss as Wasps dropped off the link. A few crashed into walls of steel as visibility became worse.

  With a thought, he changed tactics, sending the swarms straight up out of the mess and the immediate enemy line of fire. The clusters broke apart into smaller, harder to hit groups.

  His head throbbed from the strain and he sensed salty sweat leaking through his lids to burn his eyes but he never let up. Teams of around two hundred stabbed down at individual targets. Counter-fire weakened as ports and turrets were sealed off by melted ends.

  Pending victory flooded his blood with adrenaline.

  Then it all went to hell.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Kyle watched slack-jawed from afar as the black clouds immobilized, then neutered tank after tank. The BattleSwarm system was more than he dared to dream. Truth be told, he’d had his doubts.

  A male BattleMaster was hard enough to believe, though he personally cherished the idea of his gender achieving admittance into the elite ranks. Reports of the program’s success reached him almost by accident, buried inside a mountain of readiness reports.