by D. J. Holmes
“They are not even making a token effort to look for mines,” Scharnhorst’s first officer commented.
“That’s fine by me,” Warnock responded. “Sixty seconds and then we will light them up… Now!” she ordered.
Before Scharnhorst’s reactors or engines came to life, her COM relay pulsed out a bevy of activation codes to the one thousand mines strewn across the entrance to the shift passage. Every single one of them came to life within two seconds. As soon as they powered up, their active sensors filled space around them as they sought out targets. Milliseconds before they fired, Warnock’s targeting priorities reached them. Locking on, each mine, which was really a missile pod, fired its four mark IV missiles. With the Karacknid fleet less than a handful of light seconds away, the missiles’ flight time was just under sixty seconds. The reaction of the Karacknid ships was good. Point defenses automatically hurled their destructive energies at the missiles. Yet four thousand missiles would have been enough to overwhelm their defenses in a normal engagement. With so little time to react, more than a thousand got close enough to detonate.
In just two seconds, three thousand grazer beams ripped into the Karacknid fleet. Explosions and secondary explosions lit up space all around Scharnhorst. When the commotion died down, there was hardly a ship left. Not one Karacknid capital ship had survived. Only a handful of destroyers and frigates remained and most of them had been hit by at least one grazer beam. “Jump us out,” Warnock snapped when one of the nearby destroyers turned towards her command. Almost before she had finished speaking, Scharnhorst disappeared into shift space. “Mission accomplished,” she said as she allowed pleasure to fill her voice. “Good work everyone. That is something the Karacknid survivors will not easily forget. Hopefully, it will slow down the next fleet that tries to pass through the shift passage as well. Good work,” she repeated as she looked around and smiled at her officers.
Now it’s time to get ourselves home, she thought. With no way of knowing where Becket’s fleet was, there was no point trying to rendezvous with her Admiral. Scharnhorst would have to operate on her own for a little while longer yet.
Chapter 32
It takes two years to train an Imperial Marine. This is partly due to the implants all marines who make it through the first eighteen months of the course receive, and partly due to the extremely high standards the Marines set. With hundreds of thousands of volunteers each month, the Marines can afford to be selective and after the First Antarian War their budget was more than tripled. This has increased the combat performance of the Imperial Marines considerably.
-Excerpt from Empire Rising, 3002 AD.
Imperial Marines’ Bozhou training facility, New Shanghai, 22nd April 2484 AD.
“All right, listen closely,” Johnston said far slower than he was used to. “The enemy is held up across the square in the second building. They are on the third or fourth floor. You need to lay down covering fire, move up and cut off their retreat. Then you can breach and clear the building. Understood?”
“Yes Colonel,” the marine cadet playing the role of the platoon’s Lieutenant replied. Standing beside him and facing Johnston, the platoon’s three acting sergeants nodded.
“This is your first combat simulation, use your heads and don’t let me down,” Johnston instructed them, though in reality he didn’t have very high expectations. Two platoons had already gone through the day’s training exercise. Neither had impressed. He had arrived at New Shanghai five weeks ago and been assigned the newest cadre of cadets. Three platoons of totally inexperienced civilians. Most of the training Johnston had put them through focused on physical conditioning and weapons handling. They were just beginning their combat and tactics training, and it showed.
“We won’t,” the acting Lieutenant promised with a naivety that forced Johnston to hide a cringe.
“Well then, get to it. The entire urban training facility is yours to utilize,” he replied, giving the cadets the only hint he had shared with the other two platoons. As the cadets flashed him a salute and turned to jog back to their platoon, Johnston gave a slight shake of his head. Then he turned and glanced towards the building he had pointed them to. Though he couldn’t see anything even with his augmented vision, it was easy to imagine the two squads of actual Imperial Marines that were holed up within the building. No doubt they were having a great time of it after dispatching both of Johnston’s previous platoons. Though outnumbered five to one, they had no problem dealing with the cadets. And they don’t even have their combat armor, Johnston thought with a sigh. All of the initial divisions of Imperial Marines had been put together from marine and army units from the former UN nations. Now that well of personnel had run dry. There were only civilians left to recruit from. Whilst volunteers were in no short supply, turning them into combat ready marines was a hard task. Especially in the timeframe Empress Christine had given the Marines to enlarge their numbers. Typically, it took a year of training before a marine could attempt to take the exams to pass out of basic training. That time had been reduced to eight months. That gave Johnston seven months to get his three platoons ready. At the moment he wasn’t entirely confident about his capability to do so.
Nevertheless, when his cadets began to move, Johnston nodded in approval. Two squads circled around the buildings that fronted the main square. It looked like they had been dispatched to cover the rear of the high-rise apartment the enemy combatants were in. His nod turned into a grimace when another squad moved into the nearest building. Johnston could easily guess what orders they had. Moments later they poked their heads out of the second and third floor windows and lay down fire on the enemy position. Below them, the remaining thirty cadets charged across the open square towards their targets, firing as they moved. From the enemy position, there wasn’t sight nor sound of the marines there. They could have cut down half of the charging cadets if they wanted, but it seemed they were happy to wait.
Pulling out his datapad, Johnston watch the engagement proceed on a 3D holo image of the training field. The positions of each of his cadets and the marines were clearly marked on it. Just as he had said, the marines were holed up in the third and fourth floors of the apartment complex. With at least a modicum of efficiency, his cadets closed in and surrounded the apartment complex. Then, with several squads laying down covering fire, four squads breached the front and rear ground floor entrances. With ease they cleared the first two floors of the apartment. Then things fell apart. As he was moving up the stairwell, one cadet triggered a plasma mine. In the distraction, two well-hidden marines opened fire on the rest of the squad. All five were taken out of the exercise without getting off a shot in reply.
The remaining cadets hurled flash bangs and grenades of their own into the windows and up the stairwell to the third floor. Then twenty of them charged. However, the marines had already retreated to the fourth floor. It allowed them to set off the simulated charges they had placed on the third floor. Half of the charging cadets were taken out. With a number of acting sergeants and squad leaders out of the exercise, cohesion quickly fell apart. Listening in to the platoon’s COM channel, Johnston heard the acting Lieutenant screaming out a hail of contradictory orders. It took nearly two minutes, but eventually what was left of the platoon advanced. Laying down as much covering fire as they could, they finished clearing the third floor and made their way up to the fourth. They encountered far stiffer resistance as a squad of marines refused to fall back. For two more minutes a stand-off developed as both sides exchanged copious amounts of simulated plasma bolts. To Johnston’s surprise, one marine was hit. He had gotten a little too cocky. In reply, another seven cadets had fallen. Then the marines counter attacked. The second squad that had disengaged used their rappel lines to swing across from their apartment to one of the adjacent ones. In a flash they descended the stairwells and fell upon the squad of cadets that had remained outside the building to lay down covering fire. Then, in perfect coordination, the first squad of marines charge
d from their positions just as the second squad entered the building and attacked the cadets’ rear. In the space of sixty seconds it was over. Every cadet had been hit and taken out of the exercise.
Johnston shook his head as the cadets picked themselves up and gathered in the square in front of the building. He had told the acting Lieutenant that the entire training facility was his to use. Any officer with half a brain should have known the marines would be expecting a frontal attack. The presence of plasma mines and explosive charges should have been assumed. The cadets could have entered the apartment complex from the roof of several of the nearby buildings or even matched the marines’ move and used their rappel lines to enter through the windows of one of the higher floors. They hadn’t attempted any kind of asymmetrical tactic. And now they were all dead. At least it’s just a simulation, Johnston thought as he moved to where the platoon of cadets had gathered. His first two platoons were moving to join them as well. They will learn. At least, they’d better, he added as he took in his cadets. Still shaking his head, Johnston stopped in front of them all. “There are one hundred and thirty of you here,” he said as he raised his voice to fill the square. “One hundred and thirty. And all you faced were eight fully trained Marines. You only managed two kill two of them. I’m not sure you even deserve the title of marine cadet. If this was a real battle and anything of significance had been riding on it, you would have lost spectacularly. Failure here could have meant the failure of a surprise attack, or the bogging down of a citywide combat mission. You don’t deserve a hover truck ride home. You’ll all be jogging back to the barracks. I expect everyone back within forty minutes.” A groan escaped from more than one cadet’s lips. Johnston had worked the platoon hard before bringing them to the urban training field. He had wanted them to go into combat fatigued. As his head whipped round to find the culprits, all their faces turned blank. Though his augmented reflexes made it easy to identify who had made the noises, Johnston chose to pretend he hadn’t. That was the one small measure of grace he would afford them. “Then, when you get back, you are each going to write up a tactical analysis of today’s training mission before lights out,” he continued. “I want to know exactly why you failed and how you would do things differently. Anyone’s analysis that is not up to standard will be giving me ten laps of the training field at zero five hundred tomorrow. Understood cadets?”
“Yes Colonel!” every cadet replied in unison.
Johnston nodded. “Very good. Now what are you all still standing here for?” he bellowed. The cadets grabbed their gear and formed up into platoons and squads. At the command of the acting Lieutenants, they broke into a jog as they moved through the urban training field towards the cadet barracks that was several miles away. Johnston nodded again as they disappeared from view. They might all be a sorry excuse for marine cadets now, but he wasn’t going to let them stay that way. If training marines was all he could do to protect the Empire, then that was what he would do.
An hour later and back at the barracks after overseeing the return of his cadets, Johnston emerged from the officer’s shower room. He was surprised to find a marine sergeant standing at attention waiting for him. “Colonel, Lieutenant General Wu wishes to speak to you immediately,” the marine informed him.
Johnston clamped his teeth together to hide his exasperation. “I’ll be there presently,” he informed the Sergeant. Wu commanded all of the Marine forces on New Shanghai. Whilst he wasn’t a bad commander, he had little combat experience and none fighting the Karacknids. Whether out of jealousy of Johnston’s experience or because he was intimidated, Wu constantly went out of his way to remind Johnston who was the ranking officer. Either that, or he simply doesn’t like me, Johnston thought as he reluctantly made his way to Wu’s command barracks.
“Colonel,” Wu said as Johnston stepped into his office. The General didn’t even bother to stand from his seat behind his desk. In response, Johnston ignored his gesture towards a seat facing him. “I’ve been reading a concerning report,” Wu continued after a moment’s pause. “Your cadre of cadets has the highest dropout rate amongst all the recruits. It’s the highest we’ve seen since we began training cadets on New Shanghai. I’m told one more dropped out just half an hour ago… You know I have to send regular training reports back to Earth. What am I supposed to tell them about your progress here?”
“You can tell them we’re turning soft, timid, desk junkies into marines,” Johnston replied, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. “Marines capable of going up against the Karacknids and winning. Not everyone is cut out for that. Not even close to everyone. I will not go easy on them just to boost our numbers. We need men and women who can take the fight to the Karacknids and kick ass. That’s what I’m doing here. That’s all you need to tell them.”
“You’re meant to be training your cadets to the agreed-upon standards,” Wu protested. “Standards I have set. Hundreds of marines have already passed through our training program. It is your job to match both the numbers and quality of graduate cadets each of the other instructors are setting. We have quotas to fill. Every Imperial colony near the front line does.”
“Then we need to expand our training cadres even more.” Johnston responded as he allowed himself to be drawn into the argument. “A higher attrition rate should be built into your plans. The Imperial Marines have standards. Standards that should not be compromised. I’m training my cadets to that standard. At any moment, any one of your divisions could be called up to join the invasion of a Karacknid world, or head to Alliance space and help defend one there. We need to be ready for when that time comes.”
“My marines will be ready; don’t you worry about that Colonel. As will I,” Wu shot back. “If you’re suggesting otherwise, I will take that as an insult and evidence of insubordination.”
For the briefest of moments, Johnston almost gave the General what he now realized he wanted. It was only because he knew Wu’s marines were actually well trained that he didn’t hurl a real insult at the General. “I hope they will be ready,” was the nicest thing he could bring himself to say. “When the time comes, I hope they will be,” he repeated as he turned and left the General’s office. He knew he hadn’t been dismissed, but he didn’t care. If he stayed any longer, one of them would end up saying something they couldn’t take back.
*
Thanks to the fact that Clare had moved to New Shanghai with him, they had their own apartment outside of the Marine base. Living in the city of Bozhou was a far cry from the Rockies of Montana. But it was a haven for Johnston, nonetheless. He was sure that getting away from Wu and his officers each evening was the only thing stopping him from losing his temper. When he stepped into the apartment, Clare was sitting in front of a computer terminal, clearly working on something. She paused and turned as he approached. “How was your day?” she asked as a wide smile spread across her lips.
“The same as yesterday, and the day before. Little by little they’re getting better, but it’s going to be a long process,” Johnston answered. Setting down his equipment in their spare room, he moved towards the kitchen. It was his turn to prepare dinner. “What have you been up to?” he asked.
“Nothing much,” she said from right behind him. As she spoke she rubbed his shoulders. “Just reviewing the Foundation’s investments in New Shanghai and Yagong. Our branch has been given a hundred million credits to expand our current investments. I’ve been added to the part of the team that is to determine where the money will be best put to use.”
“I couldn’t imagine anything more boring,” Johnston replied as he shook his head.
Clare squeezed his back a little harder than necessary. “Someone has to pay for all the equipment you jarheads use. Not to mention meet all the demands for war materials the fleet is crying out for.” Johnston shrugged, he knew he would only get himself in more trouble if he said anything else. Instead he grabbed a knife and started chopping onions. “You’re very tense tonight,” Clare said as she ke
pt working on his shoulders. “You spoke to Wu again didn’t you?” When Johnston remained silent she squeezed his shoulder again. “What happened?”
“He had a concern about my training methods,” Johnston replied reluctantly. “I put him straight. We didn’t talk for very long really.”
Clare sighed. “He does sound like a pain in the ass.” She paused for a moment. When she spoke again she sounded a little more tentative. “But do you think maybe you are both at fault? You haven’t been in the best mood since we’ve come here and I’m sure it’s not easy for Wu to have such a decorated officer suddenly serving under him. A couple of months ago he would have been seen as your inferior… Maybe you still see things that way?”
Johnston didn’t like where Clare was going. She knew him too well. “How about I focus on making us something to eat?” he asked. “Then, once you’ve gotten some more energy into you, we can get to work on this baby you haven’t stopped talking about since we got here. You can leave the marine politics to me. How does that sound?”
Clare chuckled. “That sounds like you just deployed a diversionary strategy against me.” She slapped him on the shoulder. “But I’ll admit, it’s an effective one. You have a deal. For tonight at least. I suspect this may be a conversation we will come back to.”