The pilot opened a channel to both Jacob’s squad and mine, as we were packed tight in the drop pod launch tubes. “Hold on tight, boys. Things are about to get hairy and this deathtrap isn’t as maneuverable as my usual cup of tea, but I’ll get you to where you’re going.”
I swore quietly and started praying, forgetting that I had the squad channel open.
“What’s wrong, Rhys?” Haywire asked me. “You afraid you’re sister’s gonna get killed?”
“No, I’m afraid she’s going to kill us. There’s a reason we didn’t let her drive anything back on the colony, you know.” That made him laugh. Why couldn’t my underlings be nice and sane like… oh damn, no Castigar was entirely sane…
The shuttle jerked hard enough to make me grunt. “Alright boys! Launching now, good luck, have fun, and try not to land on anybody you know!”
Three seconds later the first “wumpf” passed through the frame of my drop pod, followed by another and another and another until finally I felt a jolt and the stomach heaving pull of massive acceleration. I really wasn’t looking forward to the next minute or so of free fall.
18
July 24, 2289. Larissa, Greece
My pod slammed to a halt, bouncing me around a bit before the door blew off of its hinges. I clambered out in time to see an enemy soldier running away with another thrown over his shoulder. A Swordmaster in ornate armor, likely Telamon’s son-in-law, and two Spartans were battling the biggest damn suit of armor I had ever seen. This thing would have hulked over even a Ring Jumper or Vadasz.
The thing’s huge mace threw the sword master and one of the Spartans both a distance. The remaining Spartan bravely jabbed at it with a plasma spear, and then tried to block the gigantic axe that came swinging. The axe rent the Spartan’s shield and severed his arm. Another pod landed, and its door went flying into the monster. The man inside the armor was stunned for a moment, which was probably all that saved the life of the Spartan that the monster was standing over.
That moment of inattention, however, cost the monster. The Demonsblood man that stepped out from the pod flashed over and took down the enemy faster than I could process the event. And the Demonsblood hadn’t even transformed his armor.
Several more pods landed, giving me a Dragonflame, a Bloodmoon, and one of my Thundermakers. Smokey trails across the sky revealed that most of the pods had landed in the middle of the AEU camp, where rising explosions and gunfire could be heard. It was all part of the plan, though, so I sent the Demonsblood to search for other Specials in the vicinity, and ordered the rest to get set up for covering fire. It would have been nicer if our position were a little closer to the city, instead of a kilometer away and halfway between the enemy camp and friendly faces.
I walked over to the Swordmaster, who was helping up the wounded and loudly cursing Spartan. “Captain Rhys Castle reporting for battle,” I saluted. “We weren’t exactly expecting a welcome party, sir. What are you guys doing outside of the city?”
“Colonel Eric Reynolds. We were trying to buy time until you guys showed up. You’re early, by the way. And thank the Divine for that. Every report we had said it would be at least two more days until we got reinforcements.”
“The Sentinel sent us as soon as he heard how dire things were getting. Now if you wouldn’t mind heading back to the city, I’ll cover the other Specials from here. We’d be pretty thankful if there was a defensive line there when we arrive.”
“You’ll have it,” He replied, then motioned for the Spartans to follow him. I heard him snap, “Stop bitching, Arka. It’s not like you haven’t lost that arm before” before I turned my attention back to the enemy camp. The Demonsblood brought me four more men from the various squads. I sent half of them closer to the city so that we could stagger our covering fire a little. Now we would just have to wait.
But we didn’t have to wait long. An explosion went up from the enemy camp, a huge one that briefly raised the temperature as far away as me. The camp itself had to feel like hell. Someone had either destroyed the enemy particle cannon, or lit up the ammunition stores. Gun fire rang out from the camp, accompanied by many more, smaller, explosions. Fires were spreading from tent to tent, and with maximum magnification I could see a few soldiers torn between fighting the fires, and fighting the intruders.
A shot burst from my left, and one of the indecisive soldiers fell, the rest scattered.
“Just giving them one more to think about, Sir.” Mixer, from Bloodmoon, explained to me. I just nodded.
As quickly as the hubbub started, it quieted again. Moments ticked by, and then the noise trebled that from before, Guardians streamed out from the enemy camp followed closely by enemy soldiers.
“Take your shots, men. Fire at your discretion,” I ordered the guys around me. “IRIS, engage friend or foe protocols, bring the PMC and PEC systems online,” I ordered my new armor’s operating system. The Integrated Resources Intelligence System was an order of magnitude superior to my old OS, often predicting my needs before I knew what I needed, not that I’d had much practice with it yet.
With the FoF protocols engaged, I let loose with my Plasma Machine Cannon. Blue-green dots of light flashed out, stitching the landscape and enemy soldiers, but not Guardians. My Plasma Exploder Cannon was another matter. I couldn’t find a decent firing solution that wouldn’t crispy up a few of my comrades along with my targets. To my left, Boar wasn’t having as much trouble with his PEC and the resulting detonations thinned the enemy herd considerably.
Of course, there were a lot more of them than there were of us, and you can cover a lot of ground very fast when you are in power armor. The other Specials were passing me by before I knew it, and my collected soldiers had moved back to stay ahead of the tide.
Someone grabbed my shoulder, “Tower, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Beat feet, soldier!” and turned me around. I was already running before I looked over and saw that it was the Bloodmoon Captain, Frank McTanme.
“IRIS, disengage PEC system, PMC on auto-target.” The PMC swiveled to fire behind me as I moved. A quarter click from the city I disengaged the PMC as well, though by then my energy reserves were dangerously low. At the city line itself we were met by Spartans who let us pass. The AEU soldiers on the other hand, were met with a solid shield wall and vicious plasma spears. They soon fled back to their camp.
*****
The sun reached its zenith, and while Christoph and a few of the other senior captains met with Telamon, I soaked up the sun. Or at least my armor did. For once, I appreciated a morning drop, because now the noon day sun was recharging my power stores faster than the plasma cores would have reenergized themselves otherwise. I had IRIS lock my armor joints so I wouldn’t collapse as I caught a quick nap.
Someone shook me awake, it seemed like I had only been asleep for a few minutes, but when I looked at the power display on my HUD it showed the batteries and plasma cores running on full.
“IRIS, unlock my joints,” I looked around to see Christoph’s normally jovial face set in a most serious expression. “Hey, Chris. What’s up?”
“We think we have a plan to break the siege, but enemy chatter has picked up considerably in the last few minutes. We’re expecting an attack within the hour, so gather your men and head to the defensive point I’m sending you. You’ll be in charge of the Spartans there, but Second squad is giving you back up from the roofs.” He moved on without waiting for a response, replacing his helmet and hiding his features once again.
IRIS spoke, “Message received. Open/Ignore?”
“Open,” I told her, and the coordinates my squad was going to cover appeared on an overlay of the city map. “Relay the coordinates on main squad channel with a five minute countdown. Close message.” With my team on its way to the rendezvous, I saw no reason not to head there myself. The trip didn’t take me very long, but the second squad was still there ahead of me. The Fallen’s captain did not speak to me, only nodded to acknowledge my presence
.
The quiet and solemn men of the Fallen spread out and took up positions on rooftops at the edge of the city. My own men trickled in and I set them a bit farther back, on the ground. Spartans took up their own places, but made sure to give us Specials enough space to operate.
I stood alone in that moment, and it felt like I was looking at myself from the outside. A golden figure amidst golden figures surrounded by blue black shadows above. All in a ruined, once glorious city. It seemed like the kind of thing songs were sung about. Should be sung about. Not that people sang many songs about battles these days, but it was still going through my head. A puff of smoke in the distance, and a bullet pinged off the graceful curves of my helmet, pulling me from my reverie.
I growled. “That better not have ruined my paint job.” Then I blithely told the men around me, “I think they’re coming.”
From the edge of my vision I could see some of the Spartans fidgeting. They had been fighting for nearly a week, and finally sensed the chance for payback. It really did seem like a good possibility. If Christoph was as confident in his plan as he seemed, then I stood by him. After all, between him, Telamon, and Telamon’s son-in-law, the plan had been conceived by two Swordmasters (who wouldn’t be Swordmasters if they hadn’t also mastered strategy and tactics) and one of the wiliest generals of the last few generations. For now, we just had to stave off the AEU (the Advanced European Union; a perfectly snobby name for nation, don’t you think?) counteroffensive for a few hours. Then the rest of the reinforcements would arrive and this battle would be over. Simple enough, right? I just wanted to get through this and back to the Forge and Rachel…
“Multiple contacts on sensors! Edge of city limits.” Someone called.
“Apprise the command center of the situation. Take up positions. Double check equipment, we have maybe two minutes. Full alert!” I commanded, as if anyone had been on anything less than full alert. Silly me.
The man working the sensor relay patched it into the command network (something he should have done when he got there) so the CC could monitor our situation. My own motion sensor started showing more and more enemies. It was disconcerting, but for all that there were, I couldn’t see any with my eyes.
An explosion on one of the rooftops, followed by another in the enemy ranks. “Contact,” One of the Fallen reported in their strange accent. “Main force channeling down projected path.”
“All forces, fire at your discretion,” The Second squad’s captain ordered, and more explosions ripped through enemies and buildings.
I hurried over to a doorway alcove and hid myself as best I was able. Squatter did the same thing across the street. I had my IRIS coordinate with his IRIS. Our Spartan compatriots melted away down side streets and alleyways. Now it was just a matter of time and positioning.
The enemy’s main column slowly approached. Very cautiously since the only resistance so far had been from the Second on the rooftops. Closer, ever closer… a block more… half a building further… “Initiate a ten second countdown, coordinated with Thunder Four.” (Thunder being the shorthand callsign for my squad)
When the counter hit zero, I activated my plasma cannons and swiveled the PEC around the corner. My first three explosive rounds perfectly coincided with Squatter’s outpouring of superhot plasma. The enemy column stopped and tried to find cover while returning fire.
“IRIS, relay a three second countdown to the Spartan squads at points alpha, beta, and gamma.”
I switched from the PEC to the PMC, laying down covering fire as a hundred Spartans burst through the walls and windows of the buildings to either side of the AEU soldiers, and a hundred more hit them from the alleyways. The front of the column was slaughtered, but the rest of it pushed forward, or moved onto other streets, the weight of numbers was telling. The Spartans guarding this defensive point’s flanks came under increasing pressure. Gunfire, screams, and yet more explosions filled the air. And then it was true chaos.
Some of the Spartans had formed lines and were systematically cutting down anything that came close to them. Since opponents with guns would be rather stupid not to use them against melee enemies… the AEU soldiers let loose with an astounding assortment of weaponry for such a standardized military. The varied bullets just bounced uselessly off the wall of metal presented by the Spartans’ shields. Spicy and Voodoo popped out from a building behind the soldiers who hadn’t scattered, and used their weapons to force more enemy troops towards the Spartans’ shield wall.
This was all well and good, but another enemy column was already on its way, this time more prepared for urban combat. I got the feeling that the enemy commander was trying to swamp us, sending huge pieces of his army at just a few points of the city. If any of the defensive points buckled, then the rest would fall all the faster. It certainly didn’t help us that the AEU army was still about eight times the size of ours. The Spartans had done well on their own, but not that well. I just had to believe that stopping this attempt would break the siege, and then I could go home.
That second column was getting closer, and we just weren’t set for it this time. At least half of my Spartans were still playing cat and mouse with the remnants from the ambush. Oh well, no subtlety then. I had the men manning the shield wall pull back to a more defensible position, and Spicy and Voodoo jet jumped halfway up the adjacent buildings.
As soon as they were in range all four of us opened fire. Unfortunately, as soon as the column hit the city limits they all fanned out, to the point where we couldn’t hit more than a few at a time. My best guess said… time to get up close and personal. Especially when the bad guys’ bullets started punching through the brickwork by my head.
I switched over to the channel for this defense point. “All hands, prepare for close combat. We’re hitting them hard and fast. Spartans do your thing; just give my team space to swing. Like the man said earlier, attack at your own discretion.”
I took as much cover as I could while closing ground, the rest of my team kept close. I ducked inside a building and moving as fast as I could, smashed through an outer wall, and landed on an unsuspecting soldier. Perhaps it wasn’t the most elegant of plans, but at least they didn’t see it coming.
I slammed into the first soldier feet first, and sprayed others with my forearm cannon. Steadying myself, I hurled my hammer at their captain. The man, and more than a few disintegrating armor plates, went flying. I flicked my wrist and my left gauntlet manipulated magnetic fields to recall the weapon. I set my back weapons to auto fire, devastating what was left of the enemy platoon. Metal slugs and packets of superheated plasma punched through their cheap armor practically of their own volition.
Finding myself out of targets, I rushed around the corner. There I found perhaps, judging by their body language, fifty men who were as surprised to see me as I was to see them. I screeched to a halt. They screeched to a halt. We looked at each other. I slammed my hammer into the wall of the building, shattering the mortar. The results were clear, although not even my vision was at that point. I was already switching to thermal imaging, and charging full speed into the middle of the group.
I bowled a few over, and whipped my hammer around, destroying a couple more armors. Now, I might not always be the brightest person, but even I know that standing in the middle of a bunch of your enemies can be bad for your health. It’s an untenable situation where numbers count more than equipment or training. So I did the first thing that came to mind and jumped, assisted by the thrusters on my backpack. At the point where I would have come back down, I instead grabbed the nearest ledge. Anchoring myself there, I popped off two rounds from the plasma engine cannon. I was fairly sure that the resulting blast decimated most of the milling soldiers.
It was at that point where the wall I was clinging to, incidentally the wall I had weakened by destroying its mortar, gave out. I crashed into the ground with a metal shriek and a thud. I was promptly covered by falling bricks. This prompted a weary sigh from me. I began t
o get up, when I was hauled to my feet by someone in very familiar armor.
“Some kind of example you’re setting there, Cap. Laying down on the job like that,” Squatter quipped. I’m sure the bugger was grinning stupidly inside his helmet. At least he’d taken care of the rest of those soldiers.
“You’re pushing it, private. Come on, let’s head back to the mobile ops station and see what’s what. Maybe pull everyone back together so we’re harder to pick off.”
I would like to say that we got back without incident, but my luck doesn’t extend that far. We were running down a particularly trashed street when Squatter’s feet went out from under him. I promptly followed him, striking sparks off of the pavement. A grenade landed gently between the two of us. It was at that point I think I realized we were in trouble. I did the fastest push up of my life and pushed my thrusters to full burn. Squatter rolled away. Neither action was quite enough.
My body slammed into a wall, the breath rushed out of my lungs. My teammate was somewhere beyond the curtain of smoke rising from the shallow crater where the grenade had gone off. I saw the man responsible for my discomfiture.
His armor was golden. He had an eagle crest on his helmet not unlike mine. He held two long… objects… that were retracting into gilded swords. At that moment, the sun hit him just right, splaying perfectly off of the curves of his armor; he looked like a mythical hero, damn him. Now if only he weren’t trying to kill me. This Knight of the Table walked gracefully, slowly, coming ever closer. I stood, having regained my breath. He stopped and looked at me. If a posture could have a sound attached to it, then right then that bastard’s would have been an evil laugh.
“Well come on then, you over polished nutcracker! Fight me!” I yelled. I came at him then, my hammer held in both hands.
He moved towards me as well, one of the swords whipping out and around twice. The blade of the thing extended, and scythed through brickwork as a red-hot razor blade through warm butter. A piece of a building fell towards me. I backhanded it with my hammer, reducing it to dust. Simultaneously, I reached out with my left arm and unloaded my last two shots from the cannon there. Uther’s Knight destroyed the projectiles in midair with his whip-sword. I continued my mad rush.
The Guardians of Sol Page 18
