“I can’t believe this, Commodore. We’ve won!” Lieutenant Guan said.
Wen didn’t dare believe it, not yet.
“Directional scan,” she ordered. “Get me a report on Enemy movements.”
“Aye aye, Ma’am. Let’s see...the Enemy right flank is all but destroyed, stragglers are being mopped up as we speak.”
A general cheer erupted, but Wen wasn’t convinced this was over. Something was off.
“And?”
Guan’s face fell and the tone of his voice dimmed a bit. “The Enemy to the front is intact, but withdrawing. Ah, we’ve got a signal. It says ‘rally to flag’.”
So Jiang made it this far. “Let’s see what she has to say. Take us back, Mr. Guan,” Wen said.
She slumped in her chair and didn’t particularly care who saw. Wen was was beyond stressed out, having been laser focused for the last couple of hours, and really had no idea how she made it through everything to get to this point.
“These wrecks sure are an astrogational hazard,” Guan said in a joking voice, but nobody laughed.
How many? Wen wondered. How many of the wrecks were theirs? Debris was spread out over a battlespace spanning half a solar system. Would they be expected to keep fighting? Could they?
That was when the engine cut out.
“Engineering, report,” Wen said after it became clear they were only drifting.
“Reactor’s fine, but we’ve got some weak connectors. I’d recommend powering down the main gun as a precaution, vital systems only. Replacement should only take a few minutes,” came the reply over the intercom.
Just great.
“Gunnery, see if you can’t raise Admiral Jiang.”
“Aye aye, Ma’am.” He fiddled with a dial and tried twice. “I’m afraid it’s no good, Ma’am. It looks like the Liangshan is out of range. Most of the dreadnought line is a few minutes away. Ox Leader is hailing us, though.”
Nima? Even better.
Wen sighed. “Put him on.”
“Need a ride?” Nima asked. She could hear his smirk, but didn’t particularly care to enter a new pissing contest just then.
“Please,” she replied.
Nima’s ship lowered shields and sent out a magnetic toe line that stuck itself to the Yellow Wind’s bow. His ship wasn’t in the best state either and the two ships just limped along together.
“So, you survived,” Nima said after a while.
“You too,” Wen replied. “But it’s not over. The Enemy’s still out there.”
“Hundreds of them,” Nima agreed.
There wasn’t much else to say after that.
Eventually they reached instant communication range with Admiral Jiang and Wen’s gunnery officer patched her in.
“Ah, Rat Leader, Ox Leader, you made it. Can’t say I’m surprised, you’re hard to kill, both of you.”
“Thanks, Admiral,” they replied together.
“I’m not going to lie to you, things don’t look good. According to our last count we’ve got forty five dreadnoughts and fifty four frigates remaining. If you’re wondering, that’s about fifty percent and eighty percent casualties, respectively.”
Eighty percent!? Of every five frigates that sortied today four were gone. She could hardly believe it. Wen felt their casualties had been high but it hurt to hear just how high.
“And how many still fit to fight?” Wen asked.
“Judging by the fact you’re being towed?” Jiang said sardonically. “Half, perhaps two thirds if we take an hour off for repairs.”
“And the Enemy, Ma’am?” Nima asked. He sounded so military and respectful, Wen could hardly believe it.
Jiang took a while to answer. “Three hundred dreadnoughts, give or take. Under ordinary circumstances I’d take those odds, but we’re banged up and they’ve still got the iceberg guns covering them. Those things are murder against our frigates, as I’m sure you both found out for yourselves.”
“So it all comes down to the marines?” Wen asked.
“Ironic, isn’t it? The Void Dragon wasn’t quite the panacea we envisioned it was. Unfortunately, Marshal Lü has informed me the original plan is impossible.”
“So that’s it?” Wen asked emotionlessly.
“Not quite. He has an alternative, but it will take time. If he succeeds we’ll know immediately. Until then, sit tight and effect whatever repairs you can.”
“And if he fails?” Nima asked.
“We call it a day and withdraw for a rematch in open space when they sortie. I don’t like it any more than you, but we have a foundation from which the fleet can be rebuilt. I thought we were completely lost earlier, but things have changed. We’re now in a position to fight another day and I will not throw that away carelessly. Today we’ll have a tactical draw or total victory, nothing else.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they replied together.
I hope Marshal Lü knows what he’s doing, Wen thought.
***
This was madness!
The Enemy was smarter than Zhamisce would ever give them credit for, out loud anyway. Their concentrated attack was pretty much immediately recognized for what it was and the Enemy responded with defense in depth. There was no way to go but through them, and every breakthrough sapped their strength.
The marines were massed like seagulls over a school of fish, swooping and striking with deadly force, but none could penetrate the inner Kuei'tang defenses. Those who went low were met five troopers against one, and those who let themselves drift too high found burning skies thick with plasma flak, an impenetrable wall of radioactive violet hell from tightly packed anti-air batteries.
They were close to their objective and somehow the Enemy knew, fighting all the harder.
Could use that diversion any time now, Marshal.
Zhamisce lead the van and tried to pierce the final line of defense three times, and three times he was forced to withdraw. Even with a line spread out over fifty kilometers there were no gaps to exploit, no breakthroughs made. The reports were coming in hot and fast: no progress, stiff resistance, mounting casualties.
More dire than mere facts, Zhamisce heard the tension in the voices of his junior officers and noncoms. They were losing confidence, and if they were, the troopers were. His host, stretched taut, could snap if he let this go on much longer. But he had one final card to play, little as he liked it.
“Bring it in, bring it in. I need runners to gather all the reserves you can. Go now!” Zhamisce shouted and signaled with his off hand.
Marine Corps opaque visors had a funny way of giving away the emotions of the trooper under them, and Zhamisce didn’t like what he saw. There was doubt, lots of it. They probably only had one more good push in them.
“Listen up: we’ve gone low and gone high, and nothing’s worked. There’s only one thing left to do.”
“What’s that, sir?” one asked.
“Under them. They know we don’t like fighting below the surface of the water. It’s going to suck but they won’t be ready for it. One breakthrough, marines! Just one breakthrough and the reserves will follow us. I will have those guns, or if I fall you will. Now, let’s rock!”
Zhamisce remembered well how he escaped the last time so made sure their charges were set for an incendiary configuration. They loaded them into the grenade launchers on their flechette guns and fired downward.
The sea itself steamed and roiled all around them, and then they dived.
Chengdu’s oceans felt very different to Zhamisce with a battalion at his back. They fanned out into fire teams and took a three dimensional drill bit formation. To their surprise there wasn’t much resistance as they surged forward. It seemed they had a lucky break and caught the Kuei’tang with their strength concentrated above the surface. The fortified islands that dotted grid N-7 that had repulsed them multiple times were entirely bypassed.
Those few who stood in their way were still recovering from the heat wave and were quickly turned into wispy
red blotches of mist from massed flechette fire. Before long the guns were in sight.
Kill the crews; watch your fire, Zhamisce signed.
The iceberg guns’ targeting mechanism, which they were calling a hydroscope, was exposed in the open water, spinning enigmatically and somehow divining firing solutions well beyond the planet’s atmosphere. They had to get very close to avoid damaging it.
The crews weren’t making it easy. They sheltered in armored compartments off to the side of the guns and laid fire down at their approach.
Zhamisce signed but one word: blades.
Orange bayonets of massive light that shimmered oddly in the water extended from their flechette guns and their jump jets ramped up to maximum.
They swam evasively and swarmed the crew compartments, using their blades to cut their way in.
Massacring them was the work of only a moment. With no room to swim away the marines were able to corner them easily. Zhamisce felt oddly detached as he bisected a cowering Kuei’tang gunner, nice and surgical. Clouds of red fluid sullied the water as they carefully hauled the bodies away.
Never thought I’d actually use bayonet training in real life. I guess the traditions exist for a reason.
Every gun fell silent, one after another. Once everything was nice and secure Zhamisce assigned a detail to watch things and pointed up.
He half expected the Enemy to be diving down in force once they realized something had happened to the guns but it it didn’t work out that way. When they reached the surface he realized why.
Reserves that had followed in their wake were pressuring the Kuei’tang positions strongly.
Looks like we’re not the only ones who’ve been pushed to the limit. I guess even they have to run out of people sometime.
He sped across the water and lead his troopers in a sweep of the islands.
The first one had a plasma flak battery setting the sky above on fire.
“Watch it, we may need that—”
The whole damned island lit up like New Years. A starburst of purple flame that they felt a hundred meters away stopped them where they stood.
“I said watch your fire, damnit! We may need those guns to hold this position!”
“It’s not us, sir,” said a corporal. “Look!” He waved a hand around.
Sure enough, explosions were so numerous that he had to dim his visor’s brightness settings to avoid being blinded. This could mean only one thing: the Kuei’tang were destroying their own equipment to deny it to his marines.
Petty bastards!
***
“Well?” he asked shortly. “Any progress at all?”
“We’re working as hard as we can,” the signalman said. “The controls aren’t clearly labeled and we’re working underwater with alien technology. We think we can fire them now but hitting anything is still a way off.”
Just great.
“Go,” he said. “And don’t bother me again unless you have something to report.”
The islands were still burning. They might still be burning for weeks. Major Zhamisce was beginning to forget what solid ground felt like. With no flak to speak of from either side fighters were constantly dueling overhead and every once in a while one would crash into the water and send a wave that knocked him, specifically him, off balance.
After they’d secured grid N-7 reinforcement columns came in from every direction. There were multiple divisions concentrated here, quite possibly the sum total of their presence on the planet, everybody but Marshal Lü and whomever he had with him on his diversion, whatever that was.
They were acting under orders from one General Tang, one of the few Ren marines on the planet, which was strange. This wasn’t infiltrator work after all, a shock trooper op all the way.
Ironically, Zhamisce was one of the higher ranking people around. The Marine Corps didn’t have a lot of field grade officers as a general rule. They had plenty of lieutenants and a few generals, but not a lot in between. Attrition was high since men in his position were expected to lead from the front, and they preferred to operate in company strength or below in most cases. Big ops like this were really rare.
He looked up. Looks like the shooting’s stopped.
The two fleets were still visible in certain viewing modes on his visor, but they weren’t doing anything, just lingering. Zhamisce really had no idea what they were doing. Perhaps they were waiting for the other side to make the first move? It didn’t really matter. They just had to hold until the translators figured things out.
Easier said than done.
The Enemy was erring on the side of large all-out attacks as opposed to constant annoying attacks, and they were in a lull in the fighting. There was nothing to do but check the perimeter again, both on and above the water, then check on the guns, again, an endless cycle of petty errands to keep people alert and ready for when the attack did come.
Zhamisce would’ve given anything for some solid ground to stand on. Theoretically, they could “stand” in the water with their jump jets stabilizing them, but it took concentration and it was much easier to just constantly move around on their skis. The water was constantly moving; they were constantly moving. Zhamisce knew he would be sick if he wasn’t on nausea suppression and eight other kinds of pre-battle meds.
His next stop was with a group of signalmen who were working on an elevated platform of massive light. They had precious little heavy equipment like the generator they were using to protect their instruments and he savored standing on a nice flat even surface for a little while.
“Got anything?” he asked.
One of them was worrying at a console and waved him over. “They’re jamming us, likely to hide their numbers. We’ve been in an EM war for hours,” she said.
“Like the shroud?”
“Something like that, but not as advanced. Still, we’re pretty blind beyond a few dozen kilometers outside the perimeter. The entire planetary garrison could be out there by now, and we’d never know.”
Well, that’s ominous. “If they’re less advanced then how can they jam us?”
“Easier to break something than fix it, basic stuff. If I were you I’d be getting ready. They can hide everything from us but their effect on the water. Just look here.”
She indicated a screen that showed a series of waves that Zhamisce didn’t recognize. “What is it?”
“That’s a physical oceanography console. There are so many Kuei’tang in the water it’s affecting Chengdu’s natural currents. I’ve already told General Tang.”
“Any specific direction?”
“Every direction. This one will be a lot bigger than they’re last attack.”
He sighed. “Thanks, I guess. Carry on.”
He left for the northern flank. Unlike Harbin where the Enemy favored the polar region the biggest settled belt here was along the equator. Grid N-7 was in Chengdu’s southern hemisphere so it was only military to expect the strongest thrust from the equatorial region.
Marines were furiously digging in, little as they could. They used handheld massive light generators to create small barriers for a little cover, but they were weak and not designed for use in the water. Under sustained fire they’d shatter pretty quick.
Holding ground was a fool’s game in any case. He’d seen it hundreds of times. If you stayed still eventually superior firepower would overwhelm you, but they didn’t have a heck of a lot of room to maneuver. The captured guns were literally chained to the ocean floor. There was nowhere else to defend.
The marines were thick here, likely a division or more. He’d never seen so many in one place, not even on parade. Zhamisce crouched behind a barrier suspended in the water and peered over. Then he saw it.
The Enemy army wasn’t visible but the water they were kicking up was, white spouts that went across the entire horizon. Figures they’d attack just as I got here.
“They’re coming! Open fire!”
Thousands of Mei marines, tightly packed, went
full auto and sprayed into the distance cumulative kilometers of mono-molecular wire cut up into tiny, vicious little flechettes. The underwater defensive line did the same and Zhamisce could see the ocean underneath him become a weave of indistinct streaks.
They poured it on for over a minute, the range of their guns far exceeding the visual range of their visors, even in most magnified mode. Then Zhamisce heard something like rain drops. He looked up only to realize there were clear skies. The transparent shield in front of him showed hundreds of little ripples a second. Returning fire!
It was getting to be too much. Pretty soon the shield would fail and he’d be forced to change levels, above or below, and he really didn’t want to go below.
The shield shifted from orange to yellow to a rapidly darkening blue, a sure sign of lessening structural integrity. Once it turned violet the barrier would collapse into indistinct energy.
Decision made for him, Zhamisce took a deep breath and leapt into the air. Their jump jets allowed them to hover and even fly on lower gravity worlds, and Chengdu was originally a Ren colony. Holding altitude was no problem.
From above he could easily see the Enemy now, and was astounded. If you told Zhamisce there were a million Kuei’tang down there he would’ve believed you. They moved like a natural disaster, surging forward in a living wave.
I thought we bled them more than this. Where do they find these people?
Zhamisce moved laterally and tried to vary his altitude as well, evasiveness being his only protection at the moment, other than numbers.
Thousands of marines were in the air with him so he at least it wouldn’t be easy to target him individually, but that had drawbacks as well. Officers were shouting and signaling orders, but it was hard to hear or recognize what they were saying.
Void Dragon Page 25
