Armored Warrior Panzerter: Eve of Battle

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Armored Warrior Panzerter: Eve of Battle Page 9

by T. E. Butcher


  Hawke shrugged. “I don’t know, and remember it wasn’t just us, Olympia and Avalon got in on that too, and the US, Japan, and Brazil.” He gestured to the motor pool where Merlin, Jr and Smith helped clean debris. “But look at things like that. They will call up schoolchildren because they didn’t have a plan to recall veterans to service.” He sighed as the young men waved and they waved back.

  “Well, if there’s no grand plan,” Reiter said, “All the more reason to push up my idea.” He began walking towards the pilots cleaning the motor pool.

  “Here’s the thing about that,” Hawke replied. “The other Regiment commanders love it, but General Orban is worried about excessive casualties. She doesn’t want to be held responsible for a massacre if things go sideways.”

  As they reached the motor pool gate, Reiter turned to face Hawke. “She’s aware that we’ll lose people and ground if we just continue to sit here, right?” Hawke turned his palm like a doorknob.

  “I think the battle in the woods reinforced her ideas,” he said. “Although personally, I think its flawed to expect your enemy to make constant mistakes, especially when they have a track record for competence.”

  “Good afternoon, sirs,” Smith said as he carried a garbage can full of glass and rocks. “I hope you could sleep well?”

  “No,” the two men said in unison. Hearing a splash and a hiss, Rieter turned to see Merlin jr. Throwing a second bucket of steaming water onto the ground. “What are you up to, frosty?”

  Merlin turned with an empty bucket in each hand. “Oh, I’m trying to get rid of the smell, it reeks over here.” Reiter raised an eyebrow when the bitter wind blew the scent of strong disinfectant in his face. Then he realized that the spot Merlin was trying to sanitize was where he’d punched a raider with his panzerter.

  Shaking his head, he looked away. “I think it’s good, Merlin.” The younger man gave him a confused look.

  “But It still smells.” Rieter shared a knowing look with Hawke.

  “Well, why don’t you take a break,” he said. “I’ll give smith a hand, you go lay down or something.” Merlin hesitated, but let Rieter take his buckets from him. “Merlin, that’s an order, go decompress, and if someone takes issue, send them to me.”

  As the young man walked to the barracks, Hawke set a hand on Reiter’s soldier. “See what I mean?” he asked. “We’ve all made our peace with what happens here, with training, conviction, or whatever else we have to do, but their young impressionable minds can’t fully distance themselves from what they have to do.”

  Reiter nodded and set the buckets aside. “Alright Smith, what do you need me to do?” Smith raised an eyebrow.

  “Shouldn’t you be telling me what to do, sir? You’re the officer.” He leaned on his broom as he spook to Reiter.

  “Well, you’ve been working in here, so you know what needs to be done,” he said. “I won’t sit here and pretend I know everything.”

  Before he went to work, Hawke patted him on the back. “I’d have your people ready to leave,” he said. “That withdrawal order is coming.” Reiter nodded and retrieved a shovel.

  After an hour under gray skies, he and Smith had cleared the debris, checked the panzerters, and assisted the mechanics with any repairs that they needed. As they walked back to the hotel, Smith gave him a curious look.

  “Why did Smith stop working?” he asked. “Was he needed elsewhere?” Reiter bit the inside of his lip. I’m their leader, I can’t be spread rumors or alter their perception of another soldier artificially. “Did I ask something I shouldn’t?”

  Reiter looked at the younger man and shook his head. “Oh, I’m sorry I was thinking about something else. He didn’t look to well and because he recently had hypothermia, I didn’t want him out working in too long in this weather.”

  Smith nodded. “Oh, how very considerate of you.” Reiter waved him off.

  “If you don’t take care of your people, they won’t take care of you,” he said. “When you’re in a leadership position, and I have a feeling you will eventually, remember that.” Even as Smith nodded along with the advice, it stirred Reiter’s own thoughts. Was he being taken care of? Was Hawke?

  We’re alive, but the enemy is sitting in our homes. How did the General Staff intend to win? Outlast the Union? Hope that eventually their armies would just collapse? He recalled meeting the late Field Marshall Skara while he was still at the Academy and shuddered. No matter what, I’ll never be that man.

  “Alright people, speed is the key here,” Kennedy said as he set his stopwatch. “Incubus Company, move out.” Ballard’s company marched into the woods, the four Capricorn IFVs of the recce platoon following. He sighed and monitored the watch. And now we wait.

  Even in the dark of night, the full clouds overhead hung low in the sky. Snow fell, the accumulated masses on the ground reflected what little light there was. He’d heard that movies and television lacked color at one point in history, that they’d all been shown in black and white. With the white snow the only thing he could see with his optical cameras, he assumed they looked roughly like that he was seeing.

  The seconds and minutes dragged. Kennedy swore this was the longest five minutes of his life. He tapped his foot on the floorboards of his Jupiter. He sipped water. He looked around. Everything just felt so quiet. Is this a prelude to a more peaceful world?

  Finally, his comms came to life. “We’re passing the lumber mill,” Ballard said. “No signs of life, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any.” Kennedy nodded.

  “Roger proceed as planned, Harpy, Jericho and the Red Guards, move out.” As they left the manor, a once grand structure that had been devastated by neglect, stray shells, and looting, Kennedy noticed something in the trees.

  He heard a low barking, followed immediately by an eerie green glow. “We’re in contact,” Ballard said. Kennedy gripped his controls more tightly. Their lasers were invisible in direct sunlight, but could be seen more easily in reduced visibility. In the dark night against white snow, they were as subtle as a freight train.

  “Roger, keep me updated and don’t slow down,” Kennedy replied. Then an all too familiar whistle filled the air. Artillery hammered the forest ahead of him. He winced. It would take a direct hit for artillery to destroy a panzerter or IFV, probably a few for the Jupiter. But those shells would annihilate any dismounted infantry.

  “X-Ray, what are the trajectories for those guns?” he asked. “We need counter-battery fire!” Shells still pummeled the woods ahead, but also in a wide cone around them. The wind must be scattering the shells. More shells rushed overhead, some coming towards him, some going out towards their batteries.

  His radio buzzed again. “We’ve reached Objective B,” Irwin said. “Red Guards and Jerico are proceeding to Charlie.” The light of flares and fires lit up the night.

  “We’re at Objective A,” Ballard said over the radio. “But the Tharcians are responding with an armored counterattack, we’re not sure if we can hold them.” Kennedy grabbed his control sticks and put pedal to metal.

  “Hold on, I’m on my way,” he said. “X-Ray, you’re in charge of defending HQ, don’t muck it up.” After pushing the Jupiter into a run, he crashed threw trees and small buildings without a care in the world. If the Tharcians want to escalate this fight into a bigger one, then who am I to stop them?

  He broke out of the woods and onto the main road. Now he could clearly see the fighting at the intersection. And the Tharcians could see him. As he charged down the road, he raised his laser and fired a burst at the closest Tharcian panzerter he could see. A cloud of steam erupted from them.

  Is this some sort of new-anti-laser system? As he closed the distance, he switched to his sub-machine gun. Union panzerters had employed a similar weapon in the war of 2112, but it’s small caliber round rendered it ineffective against the Tharcians they faced at the time. This model had been designed with greater penetration and range in mind.

  75-mm slugs pounded the Th
racian until it fell, unmoving. Kennedy fired another burst. This time he smashed the head of an enemy panzerter. As soon as he’d made it clear, he presented the greatest threat to them; The Tharcians focused fire on him.

  Two more fell from Incubus company. Shells struck the Jupiter, but had little effect beyond angering Kennedy. In return he swung his SMG back and forth, hosing down more Tharcians with shells.

  As their wingman fell, a Tharcian grew increasingly desperate. Drawing their sword, they lunged at Kennedy. Kennedy evaded their first swing, but their second cut through the body of his SMG. He tossed the weapon away as the heat from the Tharcian’s blade cooked off the magazine.

  He side stepped another swing. Lunging for his opponent, he missed and received a slash to the side for his trouble. As he grit his teeth, Kennedy struck the errant Tharcian across the face.

  The smaller panzerter toppled. He fell onto them, but their blade came up and through his left arm. Twisting their sword arm to the side, he managed to pull the limb completely away from the Tharcian. Then they went for his laser.

  The weapon discharged, once, twice, three times, and then a burst. Kennedy gasped as the air in his cockpit grew hot and thick. They’d managed to penetrate his armor twice, but h’d won his weapon back and rewarded his opponent with a burst into the cockpit.

  Carefully, he stood himself up off of the wrecked panzerter. “This is Red 1, we’ve taken the bridge, the infantry are working to disarm the explosives right now.” Kennedy heard a loud crump in the distance. They must have blown the other bridge, so they did have a radio controlled detonator.

  “Roger, With the other bridge down, we’ll head that way and center our defense on the bridge,” Kennedy said. Switching channels, he got Halphen on the line. “Call Division and tell them we’ve secured bridge over the Grenze.” The Tharcian panzerters retreated back across the river, they’d be licking their wounds for a while.

  As Kennedy turned north, Incubus company followed him. “We lost three panzerters, two more damaged, our lasers were rendered ineffective.”

  Kennedy nodded. “I noticed, it looks like they had some kind of laser defense system,” he replied. “We’ll have to report that to higher.” With the approach into old Tharsis secure, they took over security of the northern intersection while Harpy doubled back to secure headquarters. I’ll have to set up security patrols for our supply lines.

  His stomach sank as he heard a distant, smaller crashing sound. NO, No, No, no. “Red 1, Sitrep?” he asked.

  Knight responded immediately. “Looks like they had some secondary explosives placed. The good news is the bridge isn’t destroyed.”

  “And the bad news?” Kennedy asked.

  Knight’s sigh echoed in the radio's static. “The bridge will need repairs before we can use it, we’ll need to call up engineering teams from headquarters.” Knight didn’t need to continue for Kennedy to understand the implications. Those engineers would need to be escorted, and even then would still be subject to attacks by partisans.

  “You know, it’d be great if we had an intact Motor Battalion,” he said. “Never the less, we’ll do whatever we need to do, Halphen, make the arrangements for an engineering team to investigate the bridge. I will assign all companies to protect the bridge or our temporary headquarters, Reaper 6 out.”

  Reiter turned the Lowe to better observe the bridge from Landfall. The column of panzerters and armored vehicles walked shamefully over the Grenze river. When the last vehicle crossed, a nearby engineer team detonated their explosives. Just like that, a seventy-year-old bridge collapsed into a pile in the river.

  Reiter sighed. “Alright, Fox, form up around the engineers and hospital staff, we’re moving out.” The engineers fell in behind a column of civilian and military ambulances as well as a van filled with medical records. Black Platoon took the lead while white platoon took the rear, leaving Gold and headquarters to disperse themselves among the escorts.

  “Well, I guess this is better than running for our lives,” Mo said. “Still not a fan of retreating.”

  “Why even are we retreating?” Kozma asked. “That raid really didn’t do much actual damage.”

  Reiter glanced back at White Platoon’s panzerters. “It’s not just the raid,” he said. “The scouts got mauled by panzerters North of us, at an operational level they had us on three sides.”

  “I don’t know if general staff is aware, but our homes are way back in Gallacia,” Mo said. “I’d like to go home at some point.” I understand the sentiment, but orders are orders. If Orban thinks it’s best we pull out of landfall, then she has to have a good reason.

  After fifteen minutes traveling down the main road, they began seeing their first glimpses of Grunbeck. Spires of glass and stone reached towards the sky, dwarfing even their panzerters. He couldn’t see them, but Reiter knew the domes of Garden City weren’t but a few miles from their current position.

  “It’s massive, and so beautiful here,” Wesser said. Since the Union seemed to lack a strategic bombing campaign, the lights of the city remained on. Their soft glow cast the gray clouds overhead in a pinkish orange. “I’d hate to see all of this leveled.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have to see it at all,” Rieter said. “If there’s anything we learned about Union strategy, it’s that they started avoiding large metropolitan areas after the battle of Polaski.”

  “Why is that?” Kozma asked. “I thought the whole reason panzerters replaced tanks was they were better suited to urban combat.”

  Reiter nodded. “They are,” he said. “But look how tall those buildings are, you could have infantry twelve stories up and never see them.”

  “So why aren’t there any panzerters built for enormous cities like this?” Kozma asked.

  “I can answer that,” Steele said. “Because I paid attention in 6’s class, panzerters average around the height of a four story building because that’s the height of most buildings in ninety percent of cities and taller than any buildings in the countries panzerters were originally created to operate in.”

  He smiled. For just a moment, Reiter’s mind was back in the classroom teaching history. Then he snapped back to the present. “The other reasons are tactical considerations, the Union does their best fighting in open or sparse spaces at mid-range, at long range we have the advantage for the most part, while at close range it’s a pretty even fight.”

  “So you think they’ll avoid Grunbeck?” Kozma asked.

  “And Swiezen,” Reiter replied. As they approached the city, Reiter picked up movement on his sensors. Civilians. Life continued as if there was no war here. He saw the occasional closed store front, but other than that, very little indicated an approaching Union threat.

  Older buildings mixed with the newer glass and steel construction. Brick and mortar stores and apartment blocks still existed. Some of these buildings are made from recycled dome materials and probably look newer than they actually are. Wreaths hung from lampposts and Christmas Lights shone from many a balcony overlooking the street.

  “It’s all so peaceful,” Wesser said. “It’s like there’s no war.”

  “And then we come strolling in,” Mo said. “Dum-de-dum-dum, sorry to stomp all over your pretty streets, we’re a bunch of war-displaced watchmen, have you seen any other sixty ton war machines lately?” Then he paused. “I’ve got people applauding us, kids are out here saluting.”

  Wesser laughed. “They probably think you’re six, you’re rocking a similar panzerter.” Reiter chuckled as people began noticing him in the column and hurriedly also saluting.

  “What are they even celebrating?” Mo asked. “For God’s sake, we’re losing.”

  “People need heroes,” Reiter replied. “And even if you don’t feel like it, you are one to them, Mr. Top scoring ace.” They stuck to their predetermined route, which took them to a large concrete building with a massive bay door tall enough for a panzerter. “They used this place to set up parade floats, hence the bay do
or.”

  They ducked into the massive warehouse. Once inside, they lined up against both walls, where scaffolding had been placed to allow mechanics to work on them. Reiter crawled out of his unit and lowered himself to the warehouse floor.

  With the panzerters situated, the medical personnel left to take their patients to the hospital. Rieter gathered his soldiers on the warehouse floor. “I understand this is less than ideal, but this is where we are now, I’m proud of your resilience and your dedication to fighting for our homes.” He gestured to Comidus. “XO is about to find out the living situation, I’m about to have a meeting with Colonel Hawke and learn the new plan, for now, relax here as best you can.”

  With that, he turned and left for the management office for the warehouse. There, one engineer told him the headquarters company had relocated to an office building across the street. After making the short walk over, Reiter entered the front door of the marble office building.

  The building itself seemed depressing compared to the surrounding buildings. Its windows were recessed away from the exterior with the marble around them jutting out, casting shadows over the glass. The effect created an oppressive mood as Reiter stepped inside. Chos rolled about before him. Civilian office workers did their best to pretend soldiers weren’t setting up shop around them while also answering the occasional question from one.

  Noticing Friermann directing the setup of tables and files, Reiter approached the massive NCO. “MSG, have you seen Colonel Hawke?”

  The towering figure looked at him after a team of soldiers set up a bank of computers. “He’s upstairs getting maps set up, I offered him two guys to give him a hand, but he shot that down.” The older man cracked open a Highland Sap. How many of those does he have?

  “Is he hard to find?” Rieter asked.

  Friermann shook his head. “Just follow the sound of paper and swearing.” Reiter nodded and took the stairs up to the next floor. The floor itself was broken by multiple glass doors and cheap walls. Before long, he found himself stuck behind a door that required a badge to open.

 

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