Crimson Worlds Collection II

by Jay Allan

  Sato’s company was deployed on the extreme left of the position. His orders were to hold here at all costs, and continue to pour fire into the enemy. The PRC right was swinging around like a door, attacking the enemy from the rear. Colonel Yoshi was there, leading the assault himself. Sato focused on his position, but he couldn’t help but think of those troops continuing to advance, pressing the attack right onto the enemy. The battle bots were terrifying. They seemed almost impervious to damage, at least from regular small arms. And they ignored losses. They continued whatever they were doing, regardless of casualties. The last survivor of a unit fought with the same relentless determination it began with.

  He’d never approached a battle expecting the other side to cut and run, but now he realized how much of his courage and his morale hinged on the subconscious knowledge that the enemy could be broken. That if his people were just a bit more steadfast than their adversaries they could win the day. It was overwhelming knowing that if you destroyed 99% of the enemy, the survivors would keep coming…that they would claw at you with their last appendage until you put every one of them down.

  Sato looked out over the plain and watched his company’s fire tear into the enemy. His people were wreaking havoc right now, but he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when the enemy reorganized and counter-attacked. If the enemy broke through Sato’s people they’d get between the rest of the PRC force and the main Alliance line. Yoshi’s attack would turn into a blood-soaked disaster.

  Sato pulled his rifle up over the edge of the ridge and started firing. We’re not going to let that happen, he thought grimly.

  “Aoki’s people are getting killed, Erik.” Jax was standing right next to Cain, though on the com it would have sounded the same if he’d been100 klicks away. He was edgy, and he sounded it. “You need to give them the recall order.”

  Cain stood unmoving, staring off in the direction of the PRC forces. He couldn’t see them at this distance, but he knew what was happening there…he knew it all too well. “They will hold.” His voice was icy, frozen. Erik spent a lot of his spare time worrying about his troops and brooding about the ones he’d lost, but once he was on the battlefield he was as cold as they come. He knew what it took to win…or to hold out longer if victory wasn’t an option. And he let nothing interfere with that. As the years passed he had become almost a robot himself when the battle was raging. He’d pay for it later…he’d pay with guilt and doubt and self-recriminations, but on the field he’d spend however many lives it took to accomplish the objective.

  He wasn’t so sure what that objective was anymore. He’d created the most nightmarish set of defenses imaginable, doing everything he could think of to repel the enemy. His troops had inflicted enormous casualties on them, wiping away entire sections, but the survivors just kept coming…and the orbiting fleet continued landing replacements. He’d never thought his people could win, not really. But now he was sure…they were fighting a hopeless battle. But if his entire corps was going to be destroyed, he was damned sure going to take out as many of these cursed machines as he could. And that meant Aoki’s people stayed where they were…at least for a while longer.

  Jax fidgeted in his armor, wanting to argue but knowing it was futile. The two were closer than brothers, comrades in some of the most horrific battles men had ever fought. But this was the one area where they differed, and the only thing they ever argued about. Jax could never embrace the brutal mathematics of war. Not the way Cain did.

  “I’m worried about the western flank too, Erik.” Jax changed the subject. There was no point arguing with Cain, especially on the battlefield; he might just as well debate a brick wall. “What if the enemy manages to get through those mountains? I really think we need to garrison that area.”

  Cain was focusing all his strength where he could hurt the enemy. The western approaches were covered by the Iron Hills, a low range of mountains that were extremely rocky and virtually impassable. “How are they going to move a significant force through there?” Cain was annoyed. He knew Jax was upset with him over the PRC troops, and now he felt his XO was venting his frustration by picking at his decisions. His head pounded, despite the two doses of analgesics Hector had administered, and he was in no mood for pointless debate. “We need those troops elsewhere, Jax. It’s that simple.” He’d normally never disregard Jax’s opinions, but he was tired and frustrated and his temper was short.

  Jax sighed softly. Erik is being reckless, he thought. He’s so focused on lashing out at the enemy he’s taking chances he shouldn’t be. “Don’t you think we should post something there just in case? The Janissaries are still unengaged.”

  Cain snapped his head around toward Jax. “Do you really want them loose right now out of our sight?” He paused, trying unsuccessfully to take the annoyed tone out of his voice. “I’m sorry, Jax. I just don’t trust them. How many of our friends and comrades have they killed?”

  Jax didn’t answer. He’d been worried about Cain for some time. He knew his friend was troubled…they all were after recent events. The bloodbaths of the Third Frontier War had been closely followed by the cataclysm of the Rebellions. The schemes of Alliance Intelligence and the treachery of General Samuels had been too much. It had worn them all down. Cain still handled troops in the field brilliantly, but his paranoia and anger were starting to get the better of him, clouding his decisions. He was taking gambles he’d never have considered a few years earlier.

  “I’m going to send out the air assets against the enemy fighting the PRC troops. They’re out in the open right now, totally exposed.” Cain was looking down at a large ‘pad laying on a small folding table. He had two small air-attack squadrons, but he’d kept them hidden, waiting for the right opportunity to inflict some damage. Admiral West had deployed atmospheric fighters to cover the evacuation of Teller’s troops on Cornwall, and she’d found that the enemy’s anti-aircraft fire was devastating. Her wings had managed to hold back the enemy while 1st Brigade was evac’d, but they’d been virtually wiped out in the process. Barely one in five returned.

  Now, Cain was launching his own squadrons, and he didn’t expect them to fare any better. But they were armed with one of Sparks’ new weapons, and this would be its first deployment. If it lived up to expectations, it could inflict massive damage on the enemy forces. It was more cold math – 24 two-man aircraft against the damage they could inflict.

  Jax nodded, a pointless gesture in battle armor. He knew the pilots would take heavy losses, but he had to agree…Cain had created an ideal opportunity for the air strike.

  “You’re all set. Launch when ready.”

  Captain Jacoby could barely hear the gravelly voice of his crew chief over the noise of the engines. He looked down from the cockpit and returned the chief’s thumbs up gesture. He could feel the shaking as the reactor in the VTOL craft fed power to the engines.

  The strike fighters of the 11th squadron rose slowly, in perfect formation. They were all veterans of the Third Frontier War, the pick of the Corps’ air wings. The normally lithe fighters handled sluggishly – they’d been stripped of their usual armaments and loaded with Sparks’ new weapon. The plasma bombardment system was huge, almost too big to cram into a fighter.

  Jacoby swore under his breath as his fighter pulled to the right and he had to compensate. These first-generation PBS devices had been rushed into use – they weren’t properly balanced, and it took considerable effort to fly with a payload heavily weighted to one side. Jacoby was glad all his crews were veterans.

  Despite the difficulties, his fighters fell swiftly into attack formation and blasted toward the enemy positions, with Captain Crill’s squadron alongside. They were deployed in three successive lines, formed up to bombard the enemy forces now counter-attacking the PRC troops.

  The strike fighters dove at the enemy formations, evading the heavy anti-aircraft fire as well as they could carrying their massive payloads. Jacoby was senior to Crill, so he took command of t
he entire strike. His fighter was in the lead, and he bore down on a heavy concentration of enemy ‘bots. He was going to drop the PBS directly on top of them. “All pilots, follow my mark. We’re going right down their throats. I know the AA fire is heavy, but I want these things dumped right on top of those SOBs.”

  It only took the fighters a few seconds to complete their attack run, but the enemy hyper-velocity rounds tore into them, taking down almost half their number before they reached the drop points. Jacoby managed to avoid the incoming fire, but Crill’s plane was hit and erupted into a fireball.

  “Damn.” Jacoby saw Crill’s plane destroyed on his scanner. The two had served together several times, and they’d always gotten along well. He didn’t have time to brood, though…he was over the drop point. “Release.” He’d chosen to eyeball the drop rather than have the plane’s AI handle it. As soon as the PBS was away he arced into a steep climb, trying to clear the fire from the ground.

  The PBS units split into half a dozen sections, each one a nuclear reactor that instantly superheated a large volume of condensed gas. The resulting plasma struck ground targets over a wide area. The effect was similar to ancient weapons like napalm or fuel air explosives, but the PBS was orders of magnitude more powerful. It was the strongest non-atomic weapon ever deployed by man, and it swept huge sections of the field clear of the enemy. Even the Reapers were obliterated when they were caught in the intensely hot clouds of plasma.

  Jacoby circled his fighter around, giving himself a view of the field as he headed back to base. It was a vision of hell; for a few seconds it looked like a miniature sun had crashed to the ground.

  The surviving fighters formed up behind Jacoby, and the nine of them, all that remained of two veteran squadrons, made their way back, leaving the wreckage of the enemy line behind them.

  Cain had planned the strike perfectly. Yoshi’s troops suffered grievous casualties, but the strike fighters had caught the main enemy force out in the open, and Spark’s new plasma weapon had been a total success and had inflicted massive losses. Cain fed in reserves and ordered the previously wavering third line to attack the now totally disordered enemy. The Marines were able to engage small, scattered survivors at favorable odds, inflicting more casualties and splitting the enemy line in three places.

  For the first time in the war, the surviving enemy units pulled back to regroup. The battle was far from over, and Cain knew the enemy would land more troops and renew the attack. His assaulting forces were exhausted, and he had no reserves to pour into pressing his advantage…at least none he would use. The Janissaries were still unengaged, and Commander Farooq had requested permission to advance. But Cain steadfastly refused, and the enemy retreated and temporarily broke off the engagement.

  Cain knew it wouldn’t last, but he savored it anyway. Even a fleeting victory was a victory. Throughout the lines, the Marines’ sagging morale soared. The enemy could be beaten back after all.

  Chapter 27

  Battle of Farpoint

  Phase 3 – The Breathrough

  Iron Hills, Northwest of Landing

  Farpoint - Epsilon Fornacis III

  “We’ve got something coming.” Lys Daniels was crouched behind a large rock outcropping looking out at a massive wall of granite. “I have intermittent readings from the other side of this formation.” Daniels and her squad were scouts. General Cain had decided the small mountains northwest of the capital were impassible to a major force, but General Jax had sent her people anyway…just to be sure. Maybe that caution was paying off.

  “I’m getting it too, sergeant.” Corporal Farnum was a little farther forward, at the base of the rock face. It was 100 meters of sheer granite…almost perfectly vertical. “But how could any unit hope to get over this. It’s at least 30 klicks to get around.”

  Daniels tried to recalibrate her scanners. It was no use…there was some mineral in these rocks that was interfering with her readings. She took a deep breath and thought quietly…how am I going to scout out the other side of this thing? Finally, she flipped on the squad-wide com. “Alright everybody, listen to me. We’ve got to get someone over this cliff and see what is on the other side.” She paused, thinking she could almost hear the groans of her troopers. “Farnum, Varick…I need you to scale this thing and report.” The choices weren’t random. She’d quickly reviewed her unit roster…Farnum and Varick were the most experienced with this type of terrain. Both had served on Granicus during the war, and that planet was one giant mountain range.

  “Yes, sergeant.” Farnum looked up at the cliff. The scout armor had some functionality for traversing rugged terrain, but this was really a job for specialized climbing gear…which they didn’t have.

  Farnum stared up the cliff as she began slowly climbing. This is something I might have done for fun, she thought...under much different circumstances. Farnum was a climber, at least when she was able to wrangle a leave long enough to indulge her hobby. But scaling a cliff in battle armor was a different matter, one with advantages and disadvantages. She was certainly stronger in her fighting suit, but she was heavier as well. And she didn’t have the touch and the dexterity that was so essential to climbing.

  The scout armor had some useful tools, even if it lacked a full suite of specialized gear, and she found it wasn’t as difficult to reach the top as she thought it would be. She climbed up over the lip and reported back to Daniels. “Sergeant, I’m…ah…we’re up top.” She saw Varick pull himself up onto to the rocky ledge just as she started to speak. “Scouting the other side now.”

  “Excellent, corporal.” Daniel’s was looking up, but she lost sight of them as soon as they stepped away from the ledge. “Report anything…even if it’s just a feelin…”

  “Sergeant!” It was Farnum, and the veteran Marine sounded almost panicked. “There are enemy bots on the other side of this spur. Hundreds of them…thousands. About 7-8 klicks to the west.”

  Daniels could feel the breath sucked from her body. She couldn’t understand why the enemy was massing so much strength on the other side of a huge wall of rock, but she knew it couldn’t be good. She knew she had to report this immediately. “1st Division HQ, this is Sergeant Daniels, 3rd Scouting Section.” She paused, almost amused at the audacity of what she was about to say. “I need to speak directly with General Jax immediately.”

  The battle was raging again. Cain had launched a series of sledgehammer blows, first with the PRC flank attack, then the air strike, and finally with the advance of the entire line. For the first time in the war, an enemy force retreated, leaving the field to the Marines.

  But the respite didn’t last, and neither did the morale boost. The enemy set up a defensive perimeter, one Cain’s troops dared not attack, and they started landing reinforcements. The ships came in for days, bringing thousands of battle robots to the surface. The scouts had reported entire units of the feared Reapers, as well as several other types of larger bots.

  Cain’s fleeting victory had clearly triggered some type of tactical re-evaluation by whomever – or whatever - was commanding this force. The enemy responded to the elevated threat level by landing an army far more powerful than the original invasion force. Cain sat and grimly read reports detailing larger and larger enemy forces massing against his lines. He knew it was over…and so did his troops. Unexpectedly, as the prospects of survival vanished, the Marines’ faltering morale stiffened again, morphing into an odd acceptance and a grim determination to sell their lives dearly. The pride of the Corps surged through the psyche of the battered and exhausted men and women in the trenches. One by one and in groups they swore silently…they would not give in to the fear...they would face these things and show them what Marines were made of.

  It began with a report from Hector. “General Cain, I am receiving reports from the front line scouts.” The AI’s voice was calm and even. “The enemy is advancing.”

  So it begins, Cain thought. He knew the enemy wouldn’t stop once the assault had commenc
ed. The robots didn’t get tired, they didn’t feel the pain of wounds…they would just keep coming until all of Cain’s people were dead.

  That had been two days before. Now they’d been fighting nonstop for 48 hours. The Marines held grimly, but human endurance has its limits, and exhaustion was taking its toll. Cain knew it wouldn’t be long now…when the enemy broke through somewhere, things would collapse quickly.

  He was just about to move forward and get a closer look at the front when Jax broke in on his com.

  “Erik, we’ve got trouble.”

  Cain sighed. There was always trouble. But Jax sounded shaken up, and that made Cain’s stomach clench.

  Daniels scrambled up the rocky terrain, trying to work her way around the massive wall of stone. Generals Cain and Jax had sent her 3 more sections of scouts, along with orders to inspect every centimeter of the mountain range. The enemy was massing on the other side, and they wanted to know why. If there was a tunnel or pass through the mountains they’d missed, they had to find it.

  She was over ten klicks from where she’d left Farnum and Varick, but she hadn’t seen a thing. Not a crack in the massive rock wall nor a serviceable path leading up and over. She couldn’t imagine how the enemy forces massing on the other side expected to pass through. But they weren’t there for nothing, and it was her job to find out how they planned to attack.

  She extended an arm, steadying herself as she climbed up and over a large, jagged rock. She turned to look back and see how the rest of the squad was managing when a blinding light flashed across the sky. An instant later the ground shook violently and a shock wave took her and slammed her into the face of the mountain.

  She wasn’t badly hurt, but she was dazed and had trouble trying to get up. Her visor had gone dark, minimizing the damage to her eyes, but she still couldn’t see anything but spots. Her suit was damaged but still functional. She could feel the med system giving her multiple injections. One, at least, must have been for the radiation…her detector was showing a nearly lethal exposure to gamma rays.