by J. F. Holmes
“You got it, Tams. Message out, and the Marines are chewing crayons to get there.” I sensed her smile at that last jibe. She was a former Marine turned GEISHA jockey like myself. Not bad looking, and one hell of a wingman when taking down Tyrfen raiders riding their armored troop transports. We nicknamed those things Porcupines because they bristle with every type of hurt you could get hit with. Nasty bastards, and the primary ground attack craft for the Bullies.
“Okay, boys and girls, it’s go time. Keep it loose, and play it by the numbers. We need to do this quick and dirty. Weapons free in ten.” I released the hounds, so to speak.
Twenty-two G.A.M.E.S. units flowed north of the enemy compound in active camouflage mode to avoid detection. Their objective was to spot for the artillery and set up a skirmish line by a set of low hills and ravines near the perimeter of the enemy base. The rest of the eighty-six units under my command were to split into eight-mech teams of eight each and rush the vulnerable middle ground to the east about five kilometers out. The arty would start pounding the identified hot spots and provide direct fire support to my mechs as we put a hurting on the Tyrfen.
While we played on the ground, the Orbital forces would jam and disrupt enemy communications, as well as eliminate any resistance from the few capital ships the enemy had hidden just over the horizon.
Then there were the unexpected transfer gates the Tyrfen had built, in orbit and on the ground. Two vital connections to exploit if possible. According to intelligence, this could be the first time we’d have access to the enemy homeworlds, a chance to flood Bully space with our forces and take the fight to the enemy in so many ways. That made me smile.
***
“Mark two one zero, three hundred!” Sergeant Grant yelled through the comms. “Three Porcupines!”
“Two five, can you cover two two? I’m getting hit by that Gorgon heavy at 187. He’s making it hot!” Lt. Sherry Obermier was trying to nail another heavy tank that was streaming heavy metal slugs at high velocity. She was getting hit hard, and was down to about fifty percent armor integrity. The heavy exploded in a hail of pulser fire as Captain G’Dange, a male Fae, opened up on it’s flank. “’Bout dam time, Elf Lord! Thanks for the assist,” she teased him.
“You take a beating well for a human crash-test dummy,” he joked back at her, “worthy of the B’Takei ceremony.”
“Well aren’t I honored as shit? Watch your back!” Sherry fired off a quick-missile and killed a Doggy Scout trying to sneak up on G’Dange. She fired a burst of her own heavy-metallic slugs past his cockpit and into another heavy limping up behind a GEISHA unit. “Score!”
“One seven, there’s an opening up ahead to the gate! Secure that ring right the fuck now! Everyone near one seven, cover and support.” I realized the gate was in reach now, and we needed to stop the Bullies from blowing it up like they’d done every other time and everywhere else they’d been discovered.
One seven was Corporal Thomas Sowell. A bit of a goofball, but sharp on the guns, and knew how to maneuver a mech. I saw him running like a sprinter in a race, and he had his guns blazing, taking out about three dozen Tyrfen guards trying to do something at the gate. They never got the chance, as thumb-sized blazing metal bits tore them to pieces, leaving smoking barbeque. Others joined him in a growing ring of fire support, unleashing hell on a dwindling enemy force. The gate was secure. For now.
“Good job! Keep up the fire, we got porcupines moving in from the south. Captain LaForce, can we get some Marine love from Tally-Whacker six on those pines?” LaForce gave the affirmative, and mere seconds later, the porcupines were hammered by a dozen-plus rounds of heavy metal raining down. Th ’pines didn’t last two seconds before they exploded in steaming refuse almost at the same time. Eighteen 480-millimeter shells weighing two metric tons each tended to make thing go splat in a big way. Got to love those Jarheads.
“Tams! The gate! It’s activating!” Lt. Bob Carver yelled over the tactical net as a quick flash of light announced the arrival of two uninvited guests. Just in front of the ninety-meter ring, a set of Mongo-Class armored cargo transports powered up their guns and started shooting.
“One seven, get your ass inside the PNR!” I yelled at Sowell. He shifted his mech to straddle the middle of the gate. The point of no return zone.
The mechs wasted no time in disabling the two craft, blowing their engines, and forcing them to belly flop hard on the compacted ground. The weapons on top of the large cargo ships blazed away in unison as they concentrated fire on two GEISHAs nearby. L’Fsaete’s mech was returning fire, but collapsed in a melted heap as the blasts annihilated the legs and support structures. She made it out, but as her evac capsule launched up and away, the Tyrfen bastards shot her out of the sky like a target marker, her capsule popping in a gory, fusion-bright burst of hot slag.
The other GEISHA fared better as Staff Sergeant Tom Beard used the distraction to silence one of the turrets located aft of the nearest transport. Two other mechs blasted the other turret in the back, then switched to the remaining front set of guns. The former transport was already silenced, but not without damaging one mech beyond repair, and causing one seven to lose his aft missile launcher. He was singed, but appeared able to fight on.
“Global Star, this is Hugo actual. Gate is ours. I repeat, we have the gate.” Higher ups would be happy. But could we pull off a twofer and get the orbiting gate as well? “Sitrep is stable. Recommend sending reinforcements ASAP so we can keep it.”
“Hugo Actual, this is Global Star, Admiral R’cHard speaking. Orbital gate has been secured as well. However, we had about thirty-some-odd enemy fighter craft make it through and head planet side. Our own destroyers eliminated or damaged about ten of them, so you got hostiles inbound. Reinforcements are inbound as well. Fighter CAS is fifteen minutes out. Hold on until then, Colonel. Global Star, out.”
“Affirmative, Global Star. We’ll give them hell. Hugo, out.” Tamara switched to the tac frequency. “We got bogies inbound. Prepare for enemy fighters. Activate AA mode on those Arties, Major! Danger close if necessary! All mechs find cover and pop fractals! We hold this ground, Heroes!” The artillery would spread out fast and furious to activate their anti-aircraft modes, and the GEISHAs would use the fractal laser patterns to help fool enemy targeting computers. The short-range missiles and slug throwers would easily convert to anti-aircraft roles and shred anything getting within two kilometers.
Acknowledgements came in fast and furious as three enemy Dragon fighters buzzed the base. They swiftly turned and banked, trying to gain tactical information on their prey. The GEISHAs, intentionally multi-role capable, needed to protect their hard-won prize, so earth-bound they would remain.
“One zero, watch your back! That Dragon’s flipping vert and doing a Casa run!” Corporal Zenn swung his guns around and plowed the sky with rounds, scoring a hit on the enemy craft as it attempted to do a stealth bomb drop on our position. The bomb detonated prematurely, as tungsten-amalgam rounds holed the detonation assemblies, thus taking out it’s host craft and another trying to turn toward one zero’s position. “Got him!” Zenn switched to another target as one zero turned, and added to the anti-aircraft barrage that Tamara’s group used to deny the enemy any advantage.
“Sir, I got three rad readings inbound! Nukes on the way!” Lt. Horn, my Gamma Flight leader in his intel mech, informed us pleasantly. “Correction, make that six! Buckle up! It’s a party, people,” he added.
The nukes became priority for the AA systems, and we used the buildings and other terrain as improvised cover. Four of the nukes were fragged by the massive flak and fire we put up, and one detonated high and flash-fried several of the Bullies as they were climbing out of the radii of the expected blasts. One got through, but was off by several kilometers.
The blast was tremendous, a megatonner, and it landed near enough to the Marine Arty, I was already assuming they were toast. Poor bastards. The Bullies in the shock zone were fried and blasted by the h
eat and radiation. A few of our own didn’t make it, either. Lt. Marcus was near enough that the transponder in his mech winked out, the last message saying the cockpit temp was nearing nine hundred Celsius. At that temp, you turn to cinders and ash instantly, boiling in your own fat and steam before your mind has a chance to receive the message that you’re dead. Dozens of other indicators had gone out as well, as the interference cleared. We’d lost dozens to a near miss.
“Team, report!” I hit the recall button to any survivors who could home in on my mech, and we could regroup for another wave of inbound Tyrfen bogies.
“This is oh two, I’m a little hot, but fine,” Major Archibald Marlin replied with a touch of humor in his voice.
“Oh seven here. I’m good,” Private Anders replied. His sniper variant was on overwatch some five kilometers south. He was just out of range of the blast in the rising foothills.
The others reported in respectively. Overall, about a third of our team was either dead, out of action, or unable to respond for some reason. Not good, but as they say, it could be worse.
“Anyone have eyes on the Marines? I can’t reach ’em on the tacnet. Too much interference.” I really wanted some arty support right about now. Those Bully bastards were using nukes, and they wanted the gate destroyed something fierce. “Cover that gate at all costs, Heroes! All costs!” I punched up the new Defensive AI, and our chances were just below even on winning, or even surviving at this point.
“Negative, Sir. They were almost directly in the blast zone. I know those arty mechs are tough, but…” Sergeant C’artae said with hints of doubt in his voice. “I was coordinating some of the anti-air with them when the nuke hit. Jer’vate!” he said in his native tongue. It translated somewhat roughly to a curse against enemies, or a resolution, “May the Gods of War favor them.” The Fae language was mostly contextual, filled with verbs and noun forms, though it resembled old Earth Portuguese in most respects.
“Three niner here, we got more company!” said Private Fergus McGuffin, a stout little woman with grit. Don’t ask me why she was named Fergus; it was something about being an heirloom name of the firstborn, and ancestors and such. Presently Fergus was turning her GEISHA, ‘Clyde’, toward the north and the cannons and some remaining missiles that were firing off into a swarm of Bully fighters popping up on LIDAR. “I’m getting a count of over seventy bogies. Where’d they come from? Thought we had the gates locked down?” Another volley flew from her mech as enemies pelted our positions with death.
“Damn! There has to be another! Major, take a team and find that damn portal. Secure it if possible, destroy it if necessary. Shut down that gate!” I’d just ordered fifteen people to their probable deaths, but then, that’s what I do. We needed help fast, or we’d be speedbumps to returning Tyrfen battalions. I switched channels after the Major called affirmative and took the mechs with him, running flat out to where the AI had suspected possible direction and distance.
“Global Star, Hugo Actual. We’ve got another gate somewhere. Targeting AI suspects these coordinates. Guesstimate about fifteen klicks, probably hidden by adaptive camo. I’ve sent a team to deal with it. Request more CAS now, ASAP!” Combat air support would cut down the number of nuke-chuckers and give us a chance to hit up support loaders and top off our munitions. Hopefully they’d been far enough from the last blast to survive.
“Hugo Actual, this is Admiral Gent, we were hit hard up here by something in that area, ion pulsers, and a few nukes as well. I’m currently in charge and giving you orders to keep all those gates intact. We have a tremendous opportunity to gain a direct link to the homeworlds of the Tyrfen. Copy?”
“Understood, Admiral, but until we get some help with these enemy fighters, we’re outnumbered and low on ammo.” I sent the current body count and munition levels. “And they brought nukes, of course. What happened to the CAS we were promised?”
“They were cleared out by those Ion Pulse cannons, but we have the carrier Essex sending more Gremlins your way. Hold for five, and they should clear the air. Global, out!” The connection cut and switched back to the tac frequencies.
“…behind that cover! Oh five, three seven, pull closer to one seven and lock systems! We—” Boom! Two zero exploded in flames and crashed against a gate support as a Tyrfen missile slammed home. Two zero’s AI had just reported he was bingo ammo for AA use.
Two more GEISHAs erupted in flames as the Bully fighters whittled them down one by one. The AA output was dwindling as the entire squadron was losing ground, down to short-range defensive lasers, and running on empty. The defensive lasers are power-hogging last-resort options that weren’t going to cut it much longer. Something had to change.
Another nuke went off close by. The blast destroyed another three mechs, and singed most of the rest. Another two nukes would have made it had four seven not intervened with a last-second missile salvo. He took four more Bullies out before his AI reported him dry.
It was getting hotter.
“Anyone with missiles and bullets, set up covering fire. Everyone else, surround the gate in box formation and link laser defenses. One seven, you keep that gate locked down. Keep standing in the portal no matter what!” I switched to airtac, hoping, praying that someone was on our side and coming fast. “Hugo Actual to any air support! We need help right the fuck now. I got mechs out of bullets and enemy air using us for target practice.”
A few eternal seconds passed before a response nearly made me crap myself. An entire wing of SGFB-10 Hawthorne and ASF Gremlin attack craft plowed into the Bullies with missiles flying and guns blazing away. The numerous enemy craft exploding and falling from the sky meant we had a breather. But for how long? I thought to myself.
“Hugo Actual, Grey Wolves Leader. Supply MAC Ship landing dead center of your locale. We have you covered, so get reloaded. We got this for a few moments, but the Bullies still have an active gate. Your Major is attacking presently, and we have several in support. Hurry up!”
“Thanks, Grey Wolves! We see the MAC, reloading ASAP! Good hunting!” I signaled all the empty GEISHAs to head to the LZ post haste. I’d join them soon, after I relieved one seven in the gate. “One seven, you doing good, Griz?”
“I could use a beer and a shower, Sir. My gal is hurt, but we’re doing good. That last nuke finished off my one launcher.” His mech’s left arm pointed at the torn-up, smoking ruin on his right shoulder. “Could use a reload.”
“I’m here to relieve you.” I saw the MAC touch down, and crew started loading mechs with ammo. “Now get going. I need bullets, too.”
I stood there with Glenda straddling the gate while I coordinated the reload. The thing about the gates was, they had safeties, sensors that prevented them from activating while objects were inside the edge of the PNR, or point of no return. This kept the gates from exploding or equipment from being damaged when the gate activated.
Several mechs had been refreshed, reloaded, all within seconds, and were taking up positions to cover the area. We’d be done in less than three minutes. Well, having about half your squadron left tends to make the line shorter. Besides, it took less than ten seconds to totally rearm and reload. GEISHA designs were famous for easy fixes and quick reloads, but lacked proper cup holders. Who knew?
“How we doing, Boss?” came the voice of Major Cummings.
“Getting lonely. How’s that other gate?”
“We got it intact. The Navy sent some people to help us out. We’re reloaded and ready to rock. No casualties.”
“Good to hear. We got CAS here as well, and mopping up quick. Should be done shortly. We’ll send a few more your way. Keep it on a swivel, Major.” I checked the MAC supply by inquiry and noticed a load of AMMs on board. A whole lot of anti-matter. “GOPHER 6? What’s with the AMMs?” This worried me a little.
“Global, sir. They wanted them groundside. Not privy to the details.”
“Thanks. I’ll contact Global. Keep the beans and bullets flowing, K?”
> “Aye, aye. Sir! Gopher 6 out.” The line closed.
“Global Star, this—”
“Colonel, glad to hear your voice. This is Admiral Gent; I got orders for you and your mechs. Data packet downloading to your AI as we speak. Mission change. You guys are going offensive.”
I perused the data and cleared the authorization keys. “This is suicide, Admiral.”
“It’s a two percent chance of survival, but a near ninety-eight percent chance of success.” The Admiral cleared his throat. “This is an order, Colonel. Yes, you get a preemptive raise in rank with this one. HQ wants a big boom on their homeworlds. We have the chance to locate the home planets of the Tyrfen and move significant forces onto their home turf. We’ll have sixteen companies here in less than twenty hours. Your squadron will repair, rearm with the AMMs, escort a planetary detonator through to their base of operations, and make sure it goes off after the gate is closed. Someone may need to stay behind. Insure that device goes off.”
“Understood, Sir,” I acknowledged flatly. My throat was tightening up a bit, and my stomach fell to my boots. This was it. The chance we had to strike deep into Bully territory. We’d likely all die soon, but at least the bitches would know we could seriously hurt them for once. A planetary detonator was as big as the MAC resupplying us. We’d use the gate, but that was going to be dicey at best. The Bullies would be ready for a fight, no matter where that gate linked to.
The plans were improvised and simple, as if that ever worked in real life. In less than twenty hours, a huge fleet would arrive from points all over to take advantage of the gates. Three gates secured on a frozen dust ball that the Bullies were getting ready to occupy with a major force, according to Military Intelligence. Grabbing the gates without the Tyrfen destroying them or activating them to let hundreds of thousands through to defend it all was just short of miraculous.