Void Dragon

by William Kephart

  Could be. “Once we relieve the Void Dragon you’ll be reequipped. We have fabricators and supplies, plus an additional company of marines and a Ren infiltration unit.”

  “Black collars huh? I’ve heard about them. I suppose we’re the diversion while the Ren sneak in and nab Montjoie?” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  “I’ll do my best to see that everyone comes home, Lieutenant. It’s a better chance than you had before.”

  “I don’t disagree. When you arrived I was fully prepared to start up a guerrilla war with improvised weapons. Don’t know how long we would’ve lasted, guess I’ll never know.”

  She smiled. “I guess not.”

  They sat in silence for a moment. “Can I see your ammo spool? I’ll give the orders to splice it now. Come dusk, we’ll be ready to march.”

  She handed it to him. “And get some sleep if you can, Lieutenant.”

  “I’ll try...listen, when I lost it a little earlier, nobody needs to know about that, right?”

  She give him a short nod. “Nobody needs to know. Tonight we march.”

  “March or die,” he said grimly.

  ***

  Dawn. Major Zhamisce had lived to see another dawn. The attacks just wouldn’t let up. They’d been at this for two days now. His company was running on pure stims. He thought that might have been it for him if Colonel Xia and her Ren hadn’t shown up from nowhere to push back that last Enemy breakthrough.

  Lieutenant Tian said they couldn’t run. In her current state the Void Dragon needed about five minutes to charge up a greenshift, and that would be noticed, bringing an orbital bombardment down on their heads. Probably the only reason they were still alive was the fact that the Enemy was trying to capture the ship intact. Setting off the demo charges to keep their knowledge out of Enemy hands had even crossed his mind once or twice.

  He and Captain Ogun had been run ragged trying to hold everyone together. Their equipment kept failing in these dust storms and if they didn’t have fabricators constantly churning out spare parts and the wounded reserve on constant repair duty they might have already been overrun. Casualties were low and steady, but mounting. The Enemy was bleeding them, but they were paying for it, oh they were paying for it.

  Zhamisce paced the perimeter, stepping over Enemy dead left where they fell, piles of them in some cases, Harbin’s ever-present brown dust already beginning to cover and claim them.

  “Lose many this time, sergeant?” he asked.

  “A few from first platoon when they were cut off in the north, one dead in first squad and two wounded in second. Most are still fighting fit. The problem is these god damned dust storms. I’ve had to have my jump jets cleared and adjusted twice and have my ammo spool realigned. It’s a fucking nightmare. If they step up the time between attacks we won’t have time for repairs.”

  “I’m doing my best to rotate everyone back for maintenance as often as possible. Captain Ogun has a kind of jury rigged assembly line going,” Zhamisce said.

  Sergeant Toryn was cleaning a visor that never seemed to get clean. “Can’t see shit out here.”

  “Just remember the Enemy can’t see shit either, and we’re pretty far beyond their center of gravity. I think they’re attacking as often as they can. We’re wearing them down.”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that we’re trapped,” Toryn said.

  “Lieutenant Tian is working on a solution.” That was mostly a lie. They were trapped, but morale would collapse if the grunts knew. Zhamisce didn’t have to like it, but that was the military situation. All they could do was hold on and hope the techs figured out something.

  “Maybe they’ll go easy now that the sun’s out. We bled them real bad last night.”

  “Doubt it,” Toryn said. Yeah, he doesn’t buy the bullshit either, but here we are, both pretending, not like the Enemy cares.

  Zhamisce let Toryn get back to work. After two days and two nights of steady attacks they gave up any pretense of holding a wide perimeter. That square with plenty of depth in every direction was now a triangle, a tight triangle. It was good for quickly enveloping small penetrations as an active defense but they really didn’t have much room to maneuver beyond that. On their last big push the Enemy almost got in sight of the ship. Next time Zhamisce would have to blow it, he was sure, but that didn’t mean he had to make it easy for them.

  Would sure be nice if somebody else showed up. He’d given up Task Force Xuanwu for dead. If they didn’t notice a battle that was probably visible for hundreds of kilometers they were either dead or too depleted to make a difference. They were on their own. No help was coming.

  It was too bad. He’d liked this assignment. It’d only been marred by a few fuckups like Gao and Yimran, and everyone else had been squared away every day. His company were fine marines, and the Ren they had to work with were unusually bearable. Oh well. We accomplished the mission, sort of.

  In their few free moments he’d gotten Colonel Xia to admit that the gateway might not have been as thoroughly demolished as he was initially led to believe. Zhamisce couldn’t fault their courage, if they had to flee before all the charges were set there must’ve been a good reason. They’d proven themselves plenty of times in this battle. It hurt to admit, but one to one they were better than his troopers.

  And speak of the devil. Xia was approaching him. “I sent my best out to scout ahead. The hills crawl. The next one will be the deathblow. You know what that means.”

  Always a ray of sunshine, this one. “The ship can’t be captured intact, I get it. Any news from Lieutenant Tian?”

  She looked down on him. Of course, Ren always looked down on Mei, they had to. “Repairs are coming along, just not in time. If we tried to shift out it would be noticed and their orbital bombardment ships would open up on the ship directly instead of just kicking up dust. The only thing to do is pray Montjoie is dead and there isn’t enough of the gateway remaining for their engineers to make sense of. Our final responsibility is to make sure the Void Dragon does not fall into Enemy hands. You know what to do,” she said imperiously.

  “I know what to do,” he agreed. “Everyone knows where the charges are. Once the lines are broken for good whoever’s near sets them off. Nice knowing you, Colonel.”

  She actually smiled at that. “There are worse ways to die. We’ve done as much as could be asked of us. For what it’s worth, it’s been an honor.”

  “Me too,” he said, and meant it. She wasn’t a bad person, just an arrogant Ren bitch who thought she knew everything. That was about as much acknowledgment as he could ever expect from one of them.

  He felt a rumble that almost shook him off his feet, followed by a great violent thunderclap. Close. Closer than they’ve ever dared. Zhamisce was instantly alert.

  “To battle?” Xia asked.

  “To battle.”

  With his marines bunched up as they were there wasn’t much work for him as an officer. It was simply a matter of holding the line and taking targets of opportunity.

  Rushing to the perimeter took no time at all compared to two days ago. Another rumble. Another thunderclap. Another wall of dust. Here they come.

  They had learned to simply blind fire into the clouds of dust the Enemy was using as cover and judge hits by ear. The sound of flechettes tearing through the Enemy’s armored suits was pretty distinctive, and could easily be heard at medium range, for those of them who still had their hearing anyway.

  Zhamisce went full auto and let it rip. Come on you bastards, come close and show yourselves!

  He was able to make out some good hits down the line but all he was doing was churning up earth and clay. The Enemy seemed to vary their approach, with light attacks, feints, and big pushes coming at near random.

  There was an odd vertigo feeling from the small earthquakes that accompanied the orbital bombardment and the dust that blinded you until you didn’t know which was up. He’d lost a few to friendly fire that way, so Zhamisce eased
off the trigger and reoriented himself.

  “Still with me, trooper?” he asked the one on his right.

  “Han, Saha!” she replied.

  Han, Saha. Yes, sir. Only Yimran would keep speaking Nihindi at a time like this. “Watch my back, corporal, this is gonna be the big one!” he shouted over it all.

  Yimran just nodded before a dust storm blinded them both. Next wave.

  His flechette gun gave a high pitched whine as he returned to full auto and finally heard the satisfying sounds of mechanical death. He just mowed down an Enemy spearhead with blind fire!

  They didn’t let him bask in his achievement, though. Their return fire was accurate, chiseling away at the photon-reinforced earthworks they were using as cover.

  Damn, that sounded close. It was close! He just saw an Enemy squad blow right past him. Shit!

  He popped up and mowed them down from behind, a perverse part of his mind appreciating the squeaks they made when his flechettes severed their spinal chords. But they were everywhere! This was a total breakthrough!

  “Fall back to the ship!” he called out, praying some would hear him. They were overrun. He didn’t expect it to happen so fast.

  He pushed off with his lead foot, letting his jump jets carry him backward, firing all the way. It was close up butchery. The Enemy and his marines were massacring each other at point blank range; some had even gone hand to hand.

  Just before he reached the ship his jump jets cut out. He tumbled backward into a somersault that became a lateral roll. He hit his head on something and lost track of where he was or where he was going.

  When he regained his faculties his first sight was of Corporal Yimran standing over him and laying down a withering barrage of covering fire.

  “Yimran, we have to blow—”

  Zhamisce collapsed as soon as he stood up. He tried to stand again, but found he couldn’t. On the third attempt he looked down. The armor plate over his left shin was a split wreck and the lower half of his leg was just barely hanging on to the rest of his body, would’ve probably sheered off if his suit wasn’t holding everything together.

  “Yimran, the charges!”

  “Han, Saha!” she replied, dragging him forward.

  “Leave me, you idiot! Blow them yourself! There’s no time!”

  She either couldn’t hear him, couldn’t understand him, or didn’t care to obey him. It didn’t matter. She dragged him to detonator they’d rigged up. Anything wireless was out of the question with all the interference from dust and light-noise.

  Zhamisce found himself thankful he wasn’t feeling any pain. All the stims and adrenaline had suppressed everything. This is it. No time to think. Just do it. He reached for the detonator.

  And Yimran wrestled it out of his hand!

  “What are you doing, corporal?” he roared.

  Yimran just pointed. He followed her hand unthinkingly. The Enemy soldiers were falling all around them, dropping as they were shot in the back!

  Xuanwu was here!

  Chapter 13

  “You can’t be serious!”

  All the officers were assembled in Wen’s office with the exceptions of Major Zhamisce, who was wounded, and Lieutenant Logenhayn, who was supervising the speedy rearming of his Xuanwu remnants.

  “Can’t I, Nima?” Wen said. “Their forces are concentrated here, and they struggled to reduce a single company of marines for nearly three days. Lieutenant Logenhayn’s battalion will cut right through. Montjoie is alive I tell you!”

  “Hearsay, barracks gossip,” muttered Colonel Xia. “I doubt very much they’re in the mood to take prisoners at all.”

  “I have to agree,” Xinren said.

  Et tu, Xinren? I thought you were on my side.

  “Perhaps not prisoners,” Wen said, “but they want our tech. Why didn’t they just annihilate you from orbit as soon as they knew the LZ’s coordinates?”

  “Touche,” Xinren replied. “It’s not like we can leave anyway. Tian said they’d blast us the very moment they detected us charging up a greenshift.”

  “And Montjoie is the only Ren, I mean Mei, who speaks their language, probably anywhere. Don’t you think they’d want to interrogate him about the gateway at the heart of the Mountain?” Wen asked.

  “Could be, could also be dead. I think we’ve wasted enough on your gambles, Captain,” Nima said with a sneer.

  “What was this, Commander?”

  “I know what’s happening here, and I don’t like it. Wen Guiying comes with the cavalry at the eleventh hour and saves the day, and everyone conveniently forgets that she’s the reason we’re in this mess in the first place. You entered a gravity well with your shield up, you moronic spoiled little girl!”

  Wen was just about to reach across the table and throttle him when Lieutenant Tian pulled her right back into her seat. It was easy to forget how big and strong the lanky engineer was.

  “Fighting each other doesn’t solve anything,” Tian said. “Even if we were able to get Montjoie out of there, what would we do with him? We’re stuck here. I can’t risk trying to shift out. The damage pretty much nullifies our ability to slip out undetected and ramp up time will be longer as well. Those orbital bombardment ships of theirs are right over us in a geosynchronous orbit, watching like raptors for anything to look out of place.”

  “I have a plan,” Wen said.

  “I was afraid you’d say that,” Nima replied.

  “I’m afraid my plan is all we’ve got, Nima, and unless I went blind out there in the badlands, the insignia on my collar means captain and yours means commander, so kindly shut your insubordinate mouth before I have you shot.”

  Nima rolled his eyes, but stayed quiet. Wen smiled.

  “As I was saying,” Wen began, “I’ve got a plan. Our objective is Montjoie. Our obstacles are, in order: one, the Enemy fleet in orbit, two, the Enemy ground forces, and three, the Enemy flak belt. We have the tools to nullify two out of three, and give the marines time to do their jobs.”

  “How?” Xia asked.

  “I’m glad you asked! When we came in from the south I noticed the Enemy was using the dust storms kicked up by their orbital strikes to cover their advance. Two can play at that game.”

  “But Captain, I just said the Void Dragon can’t risk moving,” Tian said.

  “The Void Dragon doesn’t need to do anything. We’ve got a pair of perfectly good interceptors.”

  “The yield wouldn’t be nearly enough,” Xinren said.

  “I never said anything about the interceptors using their own guns. We’ve still got a little ammo for the main gun, don’t we Xinren?”

  “A little,” he admitted. “Not as much as I’d like. The fabricators and additional supplies take up too much space.”

  “Well, couldn’t the fabricators rig something up for our interceptors, some sort of ammo rig to carry heavy munitions?”

  “You mean—”

  “Yes. A dive bomber configuration, something that’s been obsolete for who knows how many hundreds of years. But I used to love ancient flight sims, and I know exactly how to pilot a dive bomber. An interceptor carrying one of the Void Dragon’s own shells at hypersonic speeds would hit nearly as hard as if we fired it from orbit.”

  “Well, not nearly,” Xinren replied. “Captain, the Void Dragon’s acceleration chamber can generate a muzzle velocity at a significant fraction of the speed of light. Our shells hit with greater mass than what they start with!”

  “Missing the point, Xinren.”

  “Which is?” Xia asked.

  “Which is, the interceptors can dive bomb the surface and create a dust cloud sufficient to accomplish two key purposes. One, allow our marines to approach the Mountain Stronghold under cover, and two, allow our interceptors to pull up and engage the Enemy gunboats in space. The Void Dragon will then be free to move.”

  “That’s a lot of chances,” Xia said. “Your plan requires every step to succeed.”

  “And our other op
tions?” Wen asked.

  “Wait here to be surrounded and overwhelmed. Point taken, Captain. Loathe as I am to admit it an attack on the very heart of the Mountain is almost certainly the last thing the Enemy will expect,” Xia said.

  “And the Enemy surrounding us is merely bruised, not broken. We had to fight our way through them on foot. While chastened for now, it’s clear they’re only licking their wounds and massing for another storm. There’s no reason at all to give them the chance to organize something like that. The opportunity window for my plan is closing and closing fast!” She hit the table for emphasis.

  “It won’t be easy,” Xia said. “When we reached the Mountain the first time they had at least a division in the immediate area. They weren’t especially attentive, but once we started setting charges they swarmed us with numbers I’ve never seen.”

  “Then we hope they’ve recklessly committed their strength down here and away from the Mountain,” Wen said.

  “We’ll only get one shot at this,” Xia said.

  “I only need one. Xinren, take me to the magazine. Tian, I want our interceptors ready to carry something heavy.”

  ***

  “I still think this is suicide.”

  “You worry too much, Nima. And look on the bright side, if this fails, you never have to see me again!”

  She closed the cockpit and started up the checklist. They’d only get one chance at this. Her eyes darted around for one last look at everyone while she waited for her plasma turbines to warm up.

  Lieutenant Logenhayn and the Xuanwu remnants looked like entirely new people in freshly fabricated gear, every bit the fierce elite unit that they really were. The Lieutenant himself was dancing around on the balls of his feet and testing out his stride-assisting jump jets. After one last check he bounded off and the rest followed. At full speed they’d make the Mountain in time to be covered by the dust storm she was planning to kick up, and they would hopefully tear a hole in the Enemy flak belt to cover her reentry.

  Major Zhamisce’s wounds had turned out to be too severe to be fixed in time, so he was sitting this one out with the rest of the wounded in the Void Dragon’s cargo bay, which had been re-purposed as a makeshift infirmary. His company and Xia’s had been hit hard. Colonel Xia had only a single fireteam of her Ren unit remaining and they’d be the ones to zip through the heart of the Mountain in search of Montjoie.