by Brian Dorsey
***
On the surface Stone watched as Terillian infantry again swarmed over the battlefield. ‘Let’s hope the Intrepid is enough,’ Stone thought as he looked skyward.
Finally he saw them. The tell-tale fluorescent blue flashes dotted the night sky. The Intrepid had opened fire.
From the flashes he saw the lines of bright blue light—actually superheated metals turned into plasma in the main battery chambers—streaking toward the ground.
The brilliant streaks of light traced their path through the night sky. As they grew closer, the metallic screeching of the molten metal as it slowed to sub-sonic speeds in the atmosphere overshadowed the other sounds of battle. Stone’s ears ached against the pervasive roar of metallic death.
As the massive spheres of molten metal hit their targets, the front of his lines burst into a brilliant flash of red and white, killing hundreds with each blast.
The fire was close. Although hundreds of yards away, Stone could feel the searing heat of the explosions against his face as the field in front of him was turned into a burning caldron of destruction.
“The Intrepid is doing a number on them,” said Martin.
Stone was in agreement. He had read the manuals on the power of a destroyer’s main batteries but had never seen it in person. “This might actually—”
The screeching of the next volley from the Intrepid drowned out the rest of the sentence. But the roar was louder than the last volley and continued to grow.
‘Something isn’t right,’ Stone thought, as he looked into the night sky. The incoming volley was too close. “Take cover!” he shouted, but no one could hear him over the roar.
He quickly grabbed Martin and a nearby corporal and threw then to the ground.
When the volley impacted, the landscape was filled with a brilliant white light as a solid high-pitched tone pierced Stone’s ears and a wave of heat radiated over Stone’s position. He groaned against the explosion of noise and the almost-unbearable heat surrounding him.
The heat and roaring dissipated, leaving only the ringing in Stone’s ears.
As he rose to his feet, Stone felt Martin grab his arm and turn him toward her.
“Sir,” huffed Martin, still visibly shaken by the explosion, “a round impacted within 100 meters of Bravo Company!”
“Son of a bitch,” replied Stone. “Let’s get over there.”
Stone, Martin, and a medical crew raced toward the location of Bravo Company. The entire party stopped simultaneously as they reached the position.
“Shit…” mouthed Martin.
Smoke billowed from where 1st Platoon had been, 2nd Platoon’s position was still a lake of fire, and wounded were streaming from 3rd Platoon’s location.
“Help those wounded,” directed Stone as he motioned for the medical team to aid the survivors.
“This is bad,” said Martin. “Those idiot gunnery officers overshot their grid. I’m calling them now.”
Stone overheard Martin contacting the Intrepid. “India Foxtrot, this is Romeo Charlie. Recalculate firing grid. You’re frying our asses down here. Grid 235-59 held friendlies. Repeat, recalculate firing grid. Resending our position coordinates.”
‘Romeo Charlie, this is India Foxtrot, authenticate…’
Martin interrupted the comm. “Shift your damn fire, Intrepid, you are hitting friendlies…”
As Martin worked to correct the Intrepid’s fire, Stone saw a sergeant stumble by.
“Sergeant,” called out Stone. “Are you all right?”
The sergeant stopped to report. When the sergeant turned toward his commander, Stone could see his face was severely burned and his left arm—broken and charred—hung limply at his side.
“Sir,” replied the sergeant with a vacant stare, “I don’t know what happened.”
“That’s all right, Sergeant,” replied Stone, steadying the wounded man to keep him from collapsing. “Who is commanding Bravo Company now?”
“I-I think I am, sir,” replied the dazed sergeant before collapsing into Stone’s arm.
***
As the first breaks of light flashed over the charred landscape, and exhausted Stone closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. As he did, the smell of smoke and burning flesh filled his nostrils.
Throughout the night, the Intrepid remained on station raining death down upon the Terillians from orbit, with Martin keeping them on target.
Stone turned toward Martin. “Status?”
“Yes, Sir,” replied Martin, her voice hoarse from barking orders. “200 men left fit for duty. “Are lines have collapsed to a perimeter on the ridge this hill. No artillery left. No air support. No armor. Five percent ammo…after checking the dead.”
“How many men are left?”
“Two hundred fit for duty.”
“Damn it,” cursed Stone.
He saw Jackson approaching.
“Lieutenant Jackson, how are you?” he asked.
“I think we might have lasted them out,” said Lieutenant Jackson as he applied meds to his injured leg. “The main batteries sure did a number on those Ters.”
Stone looked over the field.
Bodies dotted the landscape in every direction. The fields that had once brought subsistence to Nero’s private empire now gave forth a harvest of death. He wouldn’t even try to estimate the dead. Among the bodies were wrecked hover tanks, heavy weapons, and burning hulks of aircraft. Smoke billowed from dozens of burning tanks and fires started by the Intrepid’s bombardment.
“We need to contact command and find out the status of the main withdraw. Maybe they could pick us up if it isn’t too much trouble,” added Martin.
“Very well,” replied Stone, coughing against the smoke drifting over the field.
***
Meanwhile, onboard Pantelus Varuk, Cataline and Sequentius were discussing the operation.
“The last transport is off the ground,” said Sequentius. “Let’s get the fleet above Colonel Stone and pick up any survivors.”
“Very well, Admiral. It may have cost me a regiment but we maintained the division intact and inflicted a lot of casualties on the Terillians.”
“That we did, General,” replied Sequentius dryly. “Perhaps your body count will make up for the mission not going as well as planned. Once we pick up Stone’s remnants, I recommend we commence bombardment of the planet and wait for Blue Fleet to arrive with the rest of the Corps to recommence operations on the planet.”
“I concur, Admiral. We may have not established a foothold on the planet, but we just may have taken the bite out of their ground forces. Our follow-on landing with the entire Corps should go smoothly.”
“I hope so, General,” said Sequentius. “Captain, inform Colonel Lucius we are in route for extraction.”
***
“Sounds like they are coming to get us,” reported Martin. “They’re in orbit and waiting for reinforcements to try it again.”
Stone did not care about the follow-up operations. His thoughts were filled with the decimation of his regiment and his hatred for Cataline. “I will not serve under General Tacitus,” said Stone matter-of-factly to Martin.
“Sir?” she asked.
It was out of character for him to speak ill of a superior, even General Tacitus, in front of junior officers but the night had taken its toll on his formality. Stone could tell Martin had not expected his comment and saw that she wasn’t sure how to respond. “He has cost so many lives,” continued Stone. “Over 800 men died bravely when we should have waited for reinforcements in the first place.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “You have served well, Emily, and I will mention that in my report. After this, it might be smart to distance yourself from me. I have openly disrespected a superior officer from a First Family and will not rescind my comments. He will not face me in single combat so he will see that I am relegated to some menial task far from a combat command.”
“All of that political crap means nothing, Sir,” answ
ered Martin. “We are warriors and we play the hand we’re dealt. You are my commander and I will follow you…even that means handing out towels at the Humani gymnasium.”
“I know you would, Emily. You would hate it, but you would do it.”
“You’re right,” interrupted Martin with a small smile. “I would hate it.”
“Emily, I appreciate the—”
“What are those flashes?” interrupted Jackson as he pointed toward the sky.
Stone looked upward into the early morning sky. In the red hue, bright flashes could be seen. It was not the main batteries of an orbital destroyer this time. It was something different…something was not right.
***
“Pantelus Varuk, this is Intrepid,” broke through the communications link onboard Pantelus Varuk.
“Pantelus Varuk, this is Intrepid, several large magnetic concentrations marked. Corresponding increased neutrino levels in…twenty-five locations.”
“Is it our fleet?” asked Cataline to Admiral Sequentius.
“There’s no way,” responded Sequentius. “They have to be Terillian ships…Captain, inform Admiral Claudius on the Gaes Prime, place all ships at battle stations. Scramble all condor fighters.”
“Admiral, Intrepid reports verification of large Terillian fleet including eight battleships and four carriers. Intrepid is currently engaged with several Foxtrot squadrons and two battleships,” reported the Communications Watch Officer.
“Son of a bitch!” exclaimed the admiral as he turned toward Cataline. “That has to be a grand fleet. They could be carrying close to 15,000 ground troops.”
“Even with the rest of the Corps we could be outnumbered,” replied a surprised Cataline.
“I am not worried about the planet. I only have six ships of the line against at least ten already. We need to prepare to jump and get out of here.”
“What do we do with Colonel Lucius?” asked Cataline, knowing what the answer would be.
“We do not have time to extract his survivors,” replied the admiral as he looked up from a status screen. The green hue of the screen illuminated a calm but determined look.
“He was a brave warrior and shall be honored in the Forum as a hero,” replied Cataline, relieved that Stone would not be around to challenge his handling of the operation or his bravery.
“I am sure you will sing his praises,” replied Sequentius sarcastically.
“Admiral, Intrepid had sustained several hits. Captain Ventu reports that he is down to half power and does not have jump capability.”
“Admiral!” shouted the now excited watch officer. “Admiral!”
“Report!” ordered Sequentius, himself fighting to maintain his composure.
“Admiral, fifteen Terillian capital ships reported,” reported the watch officer.
“I guess we both lose units to this damnable planet, General,” commented Sequentius as he turned toward the ship’s captain. “Pass jump coordinates to all ships. Recall all condors that can make it in time. Standby to execute jump in two minutes.”
***
General Nero, standing in the farmhouse where Stone had held his war conference the day before, turned toward General Fallingrock.
“They’re putting up one hell of fight, General Nero,” said Fallingrock. “They are making us pay dearly for every centimeter of ground we gain.”
“The fleet has returned,” interrupted a Terillian communications officer.
“They will have additional forces and the Xen will either have to retreat or be destroyed,” stated Fallingrock.
“We should call in for an orbital bombardment to finish off their last unit,” recommended a staff officer standing next to Fallingrock.
“No, General,” replied Nero. “They have fought bravely and taken the lives of thousands of my men.”
Nero’s Humani sense of honor was still intact, even if he was a traitor. “We shall take them by assault and offer them as honorable a death as possible. Send one of your reserve regiments supported by a Scout Ranger company.”
“But we could limit our own casualties…”
“No, General,” interrupted Nero. “We…I owe them the honor of facing their end standing and facing their foe, not vaporized by plasma. I will send my own men forward, just allow me the use of the Scout Rangers.”
“So be it,” replied the frustrated Fallingrock.
***
On the hilltop, the remnants of Stone’s command were making final preparations for withdrawal.
“What is taking them so long?” asked Jackson, rewrapping his wound. “We should have seen some transports by now.”
Stone was still mesmerized by the flashes in the sky. He turned toward Martin. “Contact Pantelus Varuk and find out what’s going on.”
“Sir, the Terillians are coming again,” shouted Jackson, readying his rifle.
Stone quickly grabbed his weapon and looked back toward Martin to get her report. Unless the evacuation forces arrived soon, they would have to make another stand.
Martin dropped the comms link and slowly drew her sword.
“What did they say, Captain?”
No answer.
“Captain…Emily?”
“They’re gone,” she said dryly, staring past Stone at the oncoming wave of enemy soldiers. “A large Terillian fleet has appeared. Intrepid is disabled and will soon be lost. The rest of the fleet has already jumped. They have left us here alone.”
Stone suddenly realized the first flashes he saw were the massive bursts of light caused by electron interactions as the magnetic fields were formed by the enemy ships coming out of their jumps. The flashes that he saw now were those of the Intrepid in her death throes.
“Very well.” Stone paused for a second of contemplation. “This is it then,” he said as he looked over the remnants of his regiment.
“Yes, Sir,” replied Jackson and Martin in unison.
“I will return to my post, Sir,” said Martin, expressionless.
Stone saw Martin look toward Jackson. He saw their eyes meet. They both stood silently staring at one another for a second that seemed an eternity. Then Martin quickly turned and sprinted back toward the small group of men she now commanded.
It was not long until the enemy was upon them. The majority of survivors had run out of ammunition and those who had not shortly emptied their magazines in the initial rush.
The fighting was hand to hand, knife against knife, sword against sword.
In the deadly melee, Stone used his sword masterfully. He quickly moved through the chaotic mass, slicing and thrusting with his sword. A Scout Ranger jumped in front of him, sword drawn and ready. As the Ranger thrust his sword, Stone smoothly blocked his attack and with one stroke removed the man of his lower left leg.
As Stone rose another Terillian grabbed him from behind and drove a knife toward his heart. Grasping the man’s wrist before he could force the knife sank into his chest, Stone flung the enemy over his body, dislocating the attacker’s shoulder in the process.
Stone had placed his foot on the screaming man’s throat and was ready to plunge his sword into him when he heard Jackson’s voice over the chaos of the battlefield.
“Colonel! It’s Emily!”
He turned toward Martin’s location. Her position was all but lost but she refused to give any more ground.
As she pulled her sword from a dispatched foe, a Terillian round found its mark. Hit in the shoulder, she spun around and fell to her knees, her sword still in her hand.
“Emily!” shouted Jackson as he raced toward her with Stone not far behind.
Stone, running at a full sprint, watched as Martin thrust her sword upward from her knees into the closest Terillian. She rose but another round hit her stomach and she fell to the ground again.
“No!” shouted Jackson, wading through anyone who stood in his way.
Two more Terillians approached Martin as she lay on ground.
She quickly raised a rifle taken from a fall
en enemy and fired point blank, killing them both. She tried to rise again but could not; she could only make it to her knees where she stayed with her sword in one hand, balancing her bloody and wavering torso.
Jackson was only a few meters away when Stone saw a round impact Jackson’s body, sending him tumbling to the ground.
Stone leveled his weapon and fired, toppling the enemy rifleman who had wounded Jackson as he rushed toward Jackson and Martin.
He was still too far away. All he could do was watch….
***
Jackson slowly rose to his feet and stumbled the final few steps to Martin, still resting on her sword.
He fell to his knees beside her.
“Emily,” he cried as he lowered his head toward hers. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it in time.”
He looked into her eyes. They held a far-off stare, struggling to maintain consciousness.
“I never meant to hurt you,” Jackson continued. “I tried to make it to you in time…I’m sorry…for everything. I always thought there would be time to prove to you that I was worthy. I just want you to know that I still love you.”
Martin slowly focused on Jackson’s face and a weak smile started to form.
She raised her head slightly as a small trail of blood trickled out of her mouth. Her eyes met his briefly then she glanced over Jackson’s shoulder. She tried to raise her sword but no longer had the strength. Jackson gasped for breath as a Terillian sword passed through his body.
***
Stone fired his last round but it was too late. The Terillian fell, but left his sword embedded in Jackson’s body.
Stone was a few meters from Martin and Jackson when he felt a sharp sting in his right leg and fell to the ground. He quickly regained his footing despite the searing pain in his leg and turned toward the enemy. More rounds went into his arm and shoulder, twisting his body around and again sending him to his knees again.
He looked toward Martin and Jackson. They were still together, unconscious, slouched over one another with their heads resting on each other’s shoulders.
Suddenly, an explosion between himself and the two lifted Stone off the ground and knocked him onto his back. From his prone position, he looked toward Martin and Jackson. They had disappeared in the blast.
