by JR Handley
She had a moment of clarity, standing amid the chaos and confusion. Spartika had rigged the pass to blow, using the loss of her forces as the trigger. She sacrificed her own people – all who were in the pass – to kill Nhlappo’s troops.
“Damn it, damn it, damn it,” she said to herself.
Based on an estimation of the enemy tactics, it is likely that she wouldn’t have sacrificed many of her own forces in this attack. She doesn’t have the barracks depth that the Human Legion enjoys. Therefore, it is a statistical likelihood that you significantly outnumber the enemy. I recommend you offer them a chance to surrender. By now they will have realized that they are sitting in bombs, not bunkers.
“Thanks, Gabrielle. Hack their network or project my voice. I want Spartika’s insurgents to hear me.”
The AI made a clicking noise, acknowledging her order. Shortly after that, an icon of a small speaker appeared. Nhlappo could now address the enemy, confident they could hear her.
“Enemy Marines, you’re outnumbered. You’re sitting in bombs. Your commanders designed them to sacrifice your lives to kill my task force. Do you really wish to die for her selfish aims? Join the Legion. All we ask is that you fight with us as we try to live free. Value your own lives. Don’t squander them on some senseless death. When you die, and we all die, make that death matter.”
One of the insurgent Marines tried to gun her down as she addressed them. Her marksmen were better. His body tumbled to the bottom of the rocky pass, adding to the rubble that blocked it. The remaining enemies slowly dropped their carbines, cautiously standing with their hands in the air. They were surrendering, though Nhlappo was still wary of a trap. The enemy had been too deceitful for her to let her guard down entirely.
“Sergeant Major, take those men into custody. Officers, supervise the recovery of our wounded. Dig them out of the rubble. We don’t have all day!”
— Chapter 71 —
Midmorning, Post-Revival Day 220
Supply Depot, Baylshore
Commander, Task Force Vengeance, Human Legion
Colonel Lance Scipio took a moment to lean against the wall in the portion of the maglev tunnel, fighting to stay awake. He was exhausted mentally and physically. The long march to the Baylshore Supply Depot had worn him out, but he knew the war wouldn’t wait for him to feel better. He mentally reviewed his plan before attempting to send an update to Field Marshals Nhlappo and Gaarjar. When GG didn’t answer, Lance began to worry. Her report was overdue, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Instead, Lance focused on getting through to Nhlappo. Her comms blackout wasn’t set to start for another hour.
“Little busy here,” snapped Field Marshal Nhlappo. “What do you need?”
“Ma’am, Task Force Retribution’s gone dark. Their report is overdue. We should send air support as quickly as possible. We should assume they’re gone, all hands lost, and plan accordingly. I’ve sent an updated plan for your consideration.”
Lance heard a pause on the channel.
“Agreed. Continue,” said Nhlappo.
“I’ve found a way to clear the tunnels so I can infiltrate the New Detroit City from within. We let our AIs coordinate the timing, because if we get behind them and hit them from both sides–”
“I’m aware of the implications,” snapped Nhlappo. “Make it happen. See you in New Detroit.”
With the line abruptly cut, Lance turned to his lead engineer.
“Lieutenant Hyat, start getting those broken suits back up and running. I want our battalion of dead-man suits ready as soon is as feasible.”
The engineer rushed over, enthusiastically diving into the project. While the dead-man suits were being prepared, Lance reviewed his plans for the final assault with his commanders.
“When we get inside the enemy lines, we’ll split up by regiment. Then we assault in the direction of the four cardinal compass points. I’m hoping to exponentially increase the chaos factor. The enemy will be under attack from behind. It’ll create the idea that we’re everywhere.”
With the task force command staff on board with the idea, Lance made it official, and went to check on his engineers. He gave them a quick pep talk, where he let them know Lieutenant Hyat would be managing the empty suits. He told them the other engineers would spend time repairing the broken maglev train. Lance went on to inform them that they’d stop and prioritize ordnance removal when it was needed. He assured them that they had his entire task force at their disposal to accomplish the mission. They seemed to preen at the idea of finally being the proverbial men of the hour, and Lance intentionally stoked that feeling so they would work even harder to impress him.
The task force spent the next few moments preparing for the assault, doing last-minute maintenance checks on their kit. When they were just about done, Hyat announced that they were ready to go.
“Our engineers came through for us. We’d all be dead without those guys,” Lance said over the task force LBNet.
Satisfied that his men had their heads in the fight, Lance ordered Lieutenant Hyatt to send the dead-man suits into the maglev tunnel. It was a slow process, but Task Force Vengeance began inching their way down the line. The remaining engineers quickly discovered that the maglev train was operational, though it was seeded with booby-traps. His engineers disarmed the traps, which allowed the train car to be used to transport his Marines.
Lance suspected Spartika had wanted the Legion to find the traps in the car, thus becoming overconfident. If it had worked, the Legion would use the train, only to be blown apart. Based on the amateurish traps they’d seen lately, this was the only scenario that made sense. Fortunately, his troops hadn’t been overconfident, though if this had been his first encounter with Spartika’s traps, he suspected he might’ve fallen for it.
In just under an hour, the train was ready for the task force to board. It cemented Lance’s belief that the traps had been designed to be disarmed. Better-made improvised bombs were generally harder to disarm. While the task force focused on securing their ride, Lieutenant Hyat was clearing the tunnel ahead of the rest of the Legion. They occasionally found stretches with no traps or mines, causing their advance to look like an accordion. Knowing this process would take hours, Lance ordered his sergeant major to rotate the watch schedule so his troops wouldn’t be exhausted for the final approach.
“Sir, might I suggest that you just let the entire task force rest?” Sergeant Major Thorn said. “Nobody is assaulting from behind us, we’ve cleared the Supply Depot, and we already have the engineers out ahead of us to warn of an attack from that direction. Your Marines are exhausted. This is your chance to let them recover.”
Thinking it over, Lance decided his sergeant major was correct. He quickly acquiesced, ordering the entire task force to rest and use the last of whatever medical nanites they had. If they needed more, they would have to finish the conquest of Baylshore first. He then turned Xena loose to monitor the situation with Hyat, trusting that she’d wake him if he was needed. Before he racked out, he sent a quick note to Sergeant Major Thorn.
“If Hyat comes through, we’re gonna have to promote him. We’ll need more Marines like that when we get to Rakasa.”
“If, sir. If we go to Rakasa. Who knows what this Legion Marine Corps will decide to do with us?” replied Thorn.
— Chapter 72 —
Midmorning, Post-Revival Day 220
Human Marine Corps Outpost Bravo 5, Baylshore
Survivor, Task Force Retribution, Human Legion
The wait was killing him, and Colonel Alger Messer struggled to keep it together. The sole survivors of Task Force Retribution, one single frakking battalion, were counting on him to lead them. He wasn’t sure what they would do if attacked, armed only with Flenser pistols and wearing nothing but mesh haptic suits. But the wounded survivors had turned to him for leadership, and he couldn’t abandon his subordinate Marines. He had too many years as an NCO to just quit on them now, and the dots of his rank meant he
was ultimately responsible for them.
He thought about abandoning the outpost, but the explosion had caused the sally ports to cave in, and he didn’t know what remained belowground. The Legion would need a lot of dedicated manpower and equipment to bring the facility back after the radiation dissipated. They’d been hunkered down in polycrete trenches when the Tac Nuke went off, and it had been the only thing that saved them. Luck again favored them, and the winds changed. It had blown the nuclear fallout towards the seas to their south. He could see the nuclear ash rolling like a gray cloud, but his troops hadn’t been burned in the aftermath. Alger didn’t know why luck saved them when everyone else had died. All he had time to figure out was his duty to his fellow Marines.
Still, Alger considered getting as far away from the nuclear radiation as possible. Ultimately, he abandoned the idea. If they stayed where the Legion expected them to be, they’d be found sooner. The survivors had pulled back a little to minimize the exposure to the radioactive fallout, not counting on the wind to stay in their favor. It was made worse for the survivors because Tranquility was already toxic. If they could get back to Akoni City, the medical nanites would address whatever residual radiation remained. The only real risk was sterilization, and he’d bred a few times already.
As the wait dragged on, Alger began to worry. Have we been left for dead? he wondered. It was getting hard to breathe, but he fought against the rising panic. Alger had to keep it all inside, as his Marines would follow his lead. If he lost it, they would, too.
“Do you think they’ve forgotten us?” he asked his XO.
“Sir, relax. There’s no time left on the clock, but we’re only an hour overdue. They’ll return for us,” she replied.
“You’re probably right, but check the comms again,” Alger said.
Despite his XO’s calming words, Alger was still close to giving up. When the lookout spotted Storks on the horizon, his heart started beating faster. He thought it would explode, but Alger forced himself to maintain his outwardly serene demeanor. If they were going to make it out of this, he didn’t want his troops to know how close he’d been to breaking.
On his command, the surviving Marines lit the pile of dead shrubbery they’d gathered from the plains around them, in an effort to create a signal fire to alert the pilots. They’d included the gel from inside the Flenser pistols’ power cores as the accelerant. Alger thought it might trigger some of the Storks’ combat sensors, adding to the thermal signature the fire would give off. It had been a risk, limiting their remaining firepower, but he knew their only hope was a Legion exfil. He wasn’t sure if it was the extreme heat signature created by the fire, or that it was merely the designated time for pick-up, but the Storks began banking for a landing.
“Pull back, and do not touch your mother-frakking weapons. With our electronics fried, we have nothing to identify us as friend or foe. Hands in the air as they land! Do it, now,” yelled Alger to the Marines who were gathered around in shock.
The Stork was quickly touching down, and Alger turned and ordered two of the Marines whose pistols were used to fuel the fire.
“Make sure you carry the field marshal gently.”
Hearing a commotion, Alger turned back to the Stork and saw that a ramp was lowering. Steeling his resolve, he raised his hands and advanced on the shuttle’s small security detachment. He shouted to be heard above the noise his Marines were making, identifying himself.
“Colonel Messer, Task Force Retribution.”
The shuttle’s crew stopped, seemingly shocked at the rabble that approached the Storks. They weren’t shooting at him, so he took it as a good sign. Advancing closer, he tried to communicate with the shuttle crew using his Aimee, but he received no indication that they’d received his signal. Alger was confident that they knew he was an ally, because he knew that if they’d lost air superiority, he was already a dead man. When he got closer, he saw the shuttle crew were conferring with their chain of command.
“The field marshal dies without medical care, and likely so do the rest of us. How quickly can you get us to Akoni City’s medical bay?”
The crew chief paused, with his hand to his ear and the other hand holding his carbine, before he spoke again.
“Straight shot into AC will take too long. We’ll detour through Kalino. We’ll stabilize everyone and move out for the final leg. Get your Marines aboard,” replied the crew chief.
Turning to his Marines, Alger frantically waved his arms towards his men. He wanted to get them on the shuttle as quickly as possible. They didn’t need to be told twice, and ran as soon as they could. Waiting, he counted them all on the bird, trying to make sure nobody was forgotten. When the last Marine from Task Force Retribution boarded the shuttle, Alger spit onto the ground at his feet and stepped onto the bird.
“Task Force Retribution, present and accounted for. Take us home,” Alger said.
— Chapter 73 —
Midmorning, Post-Revival Day 220
Above New Detroit City, Baylshore
Commander, Consolidated Air Squadron, Human Legion
The flight from Akoni City had been long, but Commander Mawr Bryn knew their best chance of successfully supporting the infantry’s ground assault required them to be in the air and waiting. Hunkering in the cockpit for that long wasn’t advisable, but their discomfort didn’t come close to what the poor ground pounders experienced. At least that’s what they keep saying, every time the conversation afforded them the opportunity.
Regardless of what the sabot sponges experienced, she was thrilled at the chance to dish out some pain to the insurgent frakkers. They’d wiped out her entire atmospheric fighter command. It couldn’t go unpunished. The Legion had to make them pay for every drop of blood that had been spilled. She’d lost two squadrons of good Marines and Spacers to their treachery, and now they had a chance to hit them back. She intended to hit them hard, to make them remember they’d been there.
“All right, listen up. We hit the shuttle pad first, before the insurgents can get anything airborne. We own the skies. Do you hear me? We own the skies! Once we take out their flight capabilities, we’re to hit any exposed target of opportunity, but make sure you stay above the tether window. No losses today!”
“You mean, other than theirs?” asked one of her new pilots.
“Stow it, rookie,” she snapped.
Mawr fumed, angered that a pilot without any combat time would dare to speak like that. But she knew there wasn’t time for a more thorough ass-chewing. Soon they were in range, and her attention was focused on the mission. When the green light appeared on her targeting reticle, she released every flight to fly independently of each other. She knew this approach had some risk to it, but it would maximize the carnage they could inflict. Pushing down on the stick, she dropped towards the neat rows of shuttles and made a high strafing run on them. Nice of them to leave them lined up in a nice orderly fashion, she thought.
After she made two strafing passes, Mawr had her AI assign the targets. They couldn’t afford to waste missiles. It didn’t help if two pilots hit the same shuttle. As she pulled back up in the curving barrel roll, she saw that her pilots had begun hitting their targets. When she was again oriented in the right direction, she fired her missile into the last shuttle, whooping as it was rendered unflyable.
“Don’t waste more sabot fire or missiles. Those birds won’t fly without a complete overhaul. Target the weapons turrets, and the Marines will be giving you their grok rations tonight!”
Though none of them did so on the open battle net, Mawr imagined they were cheering at the prospect of booze. With the air threat neutralized, she turned her flying and targeting systems over to her AI. The computer was more capable of inflicting the highest casualties possible. Regrettably, she saw that many of the enemy were fleeing into hardened bunkers. They didn’t have enough missiles to handle that, so she made a note to have her AI coordinate with the task forces. At least the Legion would know what they were r
unning into.
Scanning the video feed, Mawr saw that they’d killed all the exposed Marines, so she ordered the squadron to break contact. They would head away from the fight, landing on the fallow fields near the Alabama Depot. There they could wait for further orders. While they were breaking off to the rendezvous point, Mawr made one last pass to hit a crew-served weapon they’d missed.
“This is for my pilots!” she yelled as she destroyed one last target.
— Chapter 74 —
Midmorning, Post-Revival Day 220
New Detroit City, Baylshore
Commander, Task Force Justice, Human Legion
Clearing the debris from the Trollstigen Pass had been a grueling process. Luckily, Field Marshal Nhlappo’s time in the Marine Corps had taught her to listen to her experts. The engineers had them use explosives to pulverize the rock in the center of the rock slide, thus creating a road. Although this strategy was much faster than moving all the debris, it still had cost them many hours, but Nhlappo had moved her forces to this point several hours early. She’d planned on giving her troops time to rest before the final push. Unfortunately that did not happen, so she pushed her Marines hard to get them moving again.
Task Force Vengeance has reached the optimal point in their assault. The time for us to begin our own is now, said Gabrielle.
“Something needs to be done about how you speak,” Nhlappo told her. “But we’re moving as quickly as we can. Task Force Vengeance will have to wait for us.”
Nhlappo heard many of her sergeants urging their Marines to march faster, and a few hours later, Task Force Justice finally made it out of the Trollstigen Pass. The assault against New Detroit City was beginning. It almost felt anti-climactic; they still had two hours of marching down the rock path before they were at their objective. The area was littered with rock formations, potholes waiting to snag the inattentive ankle, and shrubbery that struggled to cling to life under the shadow of the mountains. They couldn’t even use their assault thrusters, because they’d need those for the final charge. Nhlappo knew it was a necessary evil, starting the assault from so far out, but they’d needed to stay outside of weapons range. It helped that they were outside of the visual range, as well. Their assault would be as much of a surprise as they could manage.
