Nathen paused, confused. “Where?”
“Right in front of you,” Trent said, somewhere up ahead. “Look down.”
Nathen placed a hand on the surface of the chimney and slowly peeped over the edge. Part of the hollow chimney had collapsed and was laid open. Sitting snuggled inside and dozing soundly was a Korvo.
Nathen quietly put his Coyote down and drew his knife. Korvos had poor vision and hearing that they could turn on and off so they wouldn’t stun themselves. To make up for their blurry vision, Korvos could zero in on motion. If their target wasn’t moving, they were essentially blind. Nathen turned the knife over so the blade was pointing downward as he slowly reached forward. He paused when he was just outside the hole. It may have been asleep, but he still wanted to move fast enough to get a secure grip away from those fangs and claws. Pausing only for a microsecond, he snapped forward and grabbed the creature by the neck, pulling it back behind the chimney before it could resist or shrill its warning alarm.
Lifting the frail creature was easy. Nathen was strong and the Korvo only weighed about ten to fifteen pounds in the first place. Awakened forcefully from its doze, the alien thrashed and tried to slash its claws, to no avail. Nathen slammed the Korvo into the ground, momentarily stunning it in order to stab and hopefully silence it. He squeezed the Korvo's neck with enough force to make sure he was suppressing its vocal cords. That wouldn’t stop it from screaming but it would delay it for another second and might buy Nathen the time he needed to finish it off.
Nathen darted his knife quickly into the Korvo's chest and followed that up with a rapid stab into its stomach. The Korvo twisted violently in a death throe, but Nathen held it down until it lay still and lifeless. Nathen wiped the Korvo's blood off his knife and put the blade away, leaving the body of the Korvo in a pile of algae.
“Scratch one calling bird,” he spoke into the headset. “Are we clear?”
“We're clear,” Helen responded. “Nothing else is moving in this reef but us.”
Nathen turned to Calico and gave her a thumbs up. Both ESC’s legged over the chimney and trudged uphill. One by one, the other Alphas emerged from the reef and mounted the side of the hill. Phillip and Jonathan led the way, scanning for any enemy equipment that might be in place to detect them. Before they reached the top, Nathen pulled the silencer back and let it snap forward, popping it free and into his waiting hand. Nathen flipped it once and put it back in his belt. They reached the rim and Nathen proned down just beneath the lip of the crater. Before long, all the Alphas were lined up on the rim, proned down on either side of him. Phillip wriggled up beside Nathen and handed him a pair of long-range specs. Nathen took them and crawled up to the rim, slowly raising his head over the edge.
The crater wasn’t as big as Nathen had anticipated. The size of the hill on the outside gave the impression of something bigger. It was less than half a football field in diameter, but in Nathen's experience sometimes even the smallest of outposts properly defended were more effective than massive, hard to defend installations.
The Flog engineers had certainly done a first rate job in their capacity as architectural masters. The inside of the crater dish was mostly Cravac's gray dirt, but it was hard packed and well-carved, forming a perfect bowl. The gentle slope toward the center was lined with thousands of panels that turned the crater into one big receiver. The Yew had installed a large, pentagon-shaped concrete platform which stretched corner to corner to the sides of the crater, leaving a gap underneath where the sides of the dish became the bottom. Nathen could see the Yew had built substructures under the platform; probably barracks that were atmosphere-sealed for the various oxygen dependent races to breath freely during the night. There were three entry points to the lower dish, one on the far point, closest to the South face, and the War Hive. The other two were closer to the North side; closer to their supply route, but also closer to the ESCs.
The one thing that really stood out was the communication tower. Like the platform, it was built in a pentagon shape, coming to a point at the top, fifty feet high. Halfway up, a second platform was wrapped around it like a wreath. It might have served as a signal booster, but several Flogs were using it as a watchtower at the moment.
Positioned around the antennae tower were over a dozen vehicle charging stations. Locked backwards in every one of those stations was a Yew tank, all nestled in like a litter of pups to their mother. The standard, all-purpose Zorba class Alliance tank was sleek, well balanced, and looked every bit the part. Its ball socket turret sat in the front, with its beam cannon sticking out like the snout on a mosquito. It ran on repulsors, hovering a foot off the ground, and was streamlined to deflect incoming fire off its Omnium alloy. The platform was littered with smaller, fixed weapon microtanks built to accommodate a single Flog operator. There were several other all-purpose tanks parked nearby, lined up in a row and aimed to the South, along with several nasty-looking artillery guns. From the looks of it, the Flogs had tunneled into the side of the crater and built shutters and bunkers, so the floating tanks could glide right in and fire out at the enemy without having to leave the crater. The whole setup complimented a very secure defensive compound that all but forced the enemy to charge their positions. The ESCs would have to get up close and personal to get the job done.
They had a fight ahead of them. The platform was crawling with Flogs. Nathen saw Flogs dressed in engineer uniforms working on armor and machines, soldier Flogs prowling in packs loaded down with spare ammo, and even a few medical teams of Flog stretcher carriers grouped with Stelkans, all wearing the blood colors of green and black.
There were plenty of Golos to go around. Nathen zoomed in on a particular trio of the hulking aliens lollygagging next to a halfway disassembled gun chariot. Two were standing, boasting their full seven foot height with arms crossed over their chests. The third was half sitting, half leaning against the gun chariot, fiddling with its tactical assault cannon, or TA Cannon. The Golo looked to be grunting Jagon to its fellows, who pumped their chests in agreement or huffed with a toss of their rhino horns in denial. The three Golos were dressed in basic field uniforms, a cross between a trench coat and a toga, with armored boots, gauntlets, and plating. Not much in their uniform would make penetrating their thick skin and dense bones particularly more difficult.
There were Vorch everywhere. As the only ones who could freely breathe the alternative atmosphere, they were the most active. The scorch-skinned, vaguely Human-looking aliens strode about the crater at will, going about their active duties and ordering the other races around like they owned the galaxy. Several Vorch were in shock armor, standing guard or patrolling, but most were stripped down to their uniforms, setting their weapons and infamous armor nearby while they got down and worked on the machines that allowed their fellow races to breath at night. While the other races bore air filter packs, just in case, the Vorch defiantly dared the world to try and suffocate them. Nathen even saw a few officers under a command tent pulling on hookah pipes and laughing at some unheard humor.
Last but not least, the Stelkans were scattered about, curled in their own wings as they marched from point to point or operated tests on the armor. The reptilian bird-like masters of the Alliance seemed to have everything well in clawed hand. None seemed concerned about the imminent Insectoid enemy on their doorstep... or the present threat of Warheads. Nathen searched, but couldn't locate any distinctive leaders among the ranks of the aliens. No wise, gaily colored Stelkan admirals, and no decorated Vorch generals with their extravagant armor.
While Nathen had to admit it was an impressive defensive operation, it had one glaring, fatal flaw. It was pointed in one direction. The Yew were obviously too confident in their defense line, otherwise they would have cleared out the reef on the North side and bunkered out that side as well. But they'd opted to leave that side relatively undefended in favor of keeping it open for their trade route to their spaceport.
Nathen gritted his teeth as he panned u
p the side of the crater and searched for the best entry point. He immediately counted five beacons positioned around the top of the crater.
“Daytana,” he said, zooming in for a better look. “Cross sectioning the platform, top of the ridge. What are we looking at?”
Phillip reached into his utility belt and pulled out a smaller, more compact version of Nathen's long-range specs. The technician held up the miniature spyglass to his helmet and peered through, zeroing in on Nathen's indicated location.
“Eh, looks like the Yew have themselves a little umbrella,” the tech said, smugly. “That's gotta be the sweepers for their stage four anti-bombardment grid. Keeps the Insectoids from raining on their picnic from afar.”
Nathen paused, thoughtfully.
“Think you can take it down?”
Phillip checked the positions of the other beacons. “Do you think skunks light their farts?”
Nathen put the specs down and turned his head to look at his technician. Phillip looked over, shrugging in question.
“What? I thought we were asking stupid questions.”
Nathen sighed, changing his thought process to more worthy subjects.
“We take down that anti-bombardment grid, we can use the Meteor inside the crater.” Nathen panned with the specs for another second. “As it stands... Looks like those beacons are at ideal attack vantage points.”
“We circle around, disabling the beacons,” Helen finished, crawling up next to Nathen. “Then strike from multiple angles.”
“We'll need to account for those sentries,” Trent said, scoping out the far side of the crater with his rifle scope. Nathen grunted in agreement. The upper rim of the crater was pocked with open machine gun and cannon bunkers, all manned by Golos and Flogs. The cannons were all anchored to face outwards, but the machine guns could be brought to bear on the crater in a hurry. Nathen glanced overhead at the looming host planet of Cravac, which was slowly rising up and eating more of the sky. When the moon they were on turned completely toward the planet, it was going to be much harder to breath, even with their oxy-collars. And when the atmosphere cycled, their explosive weapons were going to become less effective. They had to take this crater out now and leave.
Nathen turned his attention back to the platform. Built right into the pentagon-shaped platform were several defensive positions. Most were small, like pits housing anti-air and mortar crews or machine gun nests. There was one structure in particular, offset to the right, which looked to be the sturdiest of the lot, built out of the same material as the platform itself.
“That's the ammo dump,” Nathen said. “That's priority target number two.”
“What's priority target one?” Doc asked, checking his Casper while they waited.
“The tower,” Nathen said, without looking up. “We take that out first. If they get a beam off, they'll send down reinforcements from orbit before we can even make it past the reef. We cut their tongue first so they can't call for help.”
“We'll have to fight our way there to plant charges,” pointed out Jonathan.
“I got this,” Nathen said, shrugging the Pennington off his back onto the ground next to him. “We'll take the tower from the perimeter, then move in and engage in close range.”
Helen scooted closer so Nathen could reach onto her back and pull rockets out of the armored pack she was wearing. One by one, Nathen started loading rockets into the launcher. The Pennington pulled each explosive in, then jacked it into one of the four spare rocket bays until it reached its five-rocket max. Nathen put the launcher down and touched his co-commander's shoulder.
“Bayonet,” he whispered. “You take Doc and sweep the West ridge until you reach that second beacon and wait for my signal. When the action starts, head for the weapon depot and deprive them access.”
Helen nodded and scooted back, slapping Doc on the back and pulling the medic along with her as she started west. Nathen crawled back to the edge and took up the specs one more time. He'd scanned just about everything. He couldn't see how many troopers were waiting below in the lower bunker, but he made himself assume there could be at least a hundred more he couldn't see, putting the odds at around 300 to 8. There were several temporary structures, mostly air tents, and a mess for the troops to lunch at. Then, almost glancing over it entirely, Nathen focused on one big, long lean-to behind the tower.
He'd overlooked it before, but now Nathen focused on the camouflage tarp stretched out at a wedge angle perpendicular to the tower's base. It struck Nathen as strange, because it was away from the tank's charging stations, and there were no Yew active around it. It could have been a storage area, but Nathen couldn't see any crates or bins anywhere around it. It was angled and covered in such a way that Nathen simply couldn't see what was under it.
“Sharps,” he said. “What's under that tarp behind the tower?”
The sniper paused in the middle of strapping the laser targeting beam for the mortar to the muzzle of his rifle to look down the scope. After a second, the sniper looked up and issued a shrugged 'humph'.
“Unknown,” he said. “Maybe it’s their dead.”
“Meybe et's theh loo,” Kyler suggested, systematically unloading the drum magazine from his machine gun. “Ya gotta go somewheh, right?”
“Maybe,” Nathen said, pulling his Coyote closer in the dirt. Somewhere in the back of his head, though, a little warning told him it was something else. “Sharps, when we get started, do me a favor and keep one eye on it. They're clearly trying to hide something under there.”
“Roger.”
Nathen turned around and motioned to Calico and Jonathan. The stealthist and the speaker crawled forward, getting in close to hear their commander's words without straining.
“Fiend,” he said, addressing the stealth master. “The East ridge is yours.” Nathen pointed at Calico until Jonathan looked. “You watch her back, understand?”
Jonathan nodded. “Clearly.”
The stealthist started to leave, then turned back and locked Calico with a black-faced stare.
“Don't fall behind.”
The stealthist picked up his Coyote and left, with Calico right behind him. The girl cast a glance back at Nathen as she went. Nathen wondered how she was feeling right then. This was her first battle with the ESCs; there was reason to be nervous or afraid. But all Nathen saw when he looked at her now was a steady determination; a far cry from her flight experience. For a moment, Nathen wanted to call her back and send Phillip with Jonathan instead so he could have the new girl close by, but he quickly discarded the idea. Nathen looked away and focused on his battle plan. Better she go with Jonathan on the flank than join him on the frontline assault. Nathen intended to draw the most blood on the North side of the crater. And it was probably going to get messy.
To his right, Trent finished attaching the target finder to his sniper rifle and powered on the Greylance's bolt-activated charger.
“I don't see any high priorities down there,” the sniper said. “Where do I start?”
Nathen pointed out a machine gun pit near the East side of the crater.
“Start with that Slugfest crew and work your way onto hard targets. Golos and Vorch. Select at your discretion.”
“Roger that,” the sniper said, snuggling down next to his scope to settle in for the battle. Nathen turned to his left in time to see Kyler completely unload the drum magazine from his Blitz.
“What are you doing?” he asked. Kyler put his tactical drum mag aside and pulled a strap off his shoulder, lifting a heavy ammo box off his shoulder and cracking it open.
“I brought a little extra kick with me,” the gunner said, pulling the belt of red-colored bullets out and lining them up into his machine gun. “Some o’ the special rounds we picked up befoh we left.”
Nathen scowled behind his helmet, but decided the action was justified and moved on. “You stay up here and provide overwatch. When the show starts, light up anything down there that's not us.”
&
nbsp; Kyler cracked the lid down on the belt and smugly racked the hammer. Nathen sighed and looked down at the platform.
“Let's not put this off any longer,” he said, touching his helmet. “All teams, report.”
“Bayonet here,” Helen said, instantly. “West side grid down.”
“Fiend here,” Jonathan said, seconds later. “Defense grid Eastern, down. Ready to proceed.”
Nathen pulled the Pennington close and looked over his shoulder at Phillip.
“Daytana, you're my six.”
Phillip nodded and flicked the safety off his Casper. Nathen crawled up to the edge of the crater, hauling the loaded Pennington with him, and hefted it onto his shoulder. The three Elite Stellar Commandos must have looked like quite a mismatched assault squad; a machine gunner, rocket launcher, and a sniper lined up right next to each other in blue, white, and brown armor respectively. Nathen pulled the fore grip on the Pennington, levering the launcher downwards and sighting down the scope. The tower lined up dead center in his sights.
Nathen felt a gust of breeze flow across the crater as the planetary atmospheric cycle breathed out. The sounds of boots on duracrete mixed with the straggling voices in alien tongues. Overhead, Cravac reached slowly skywards, marking the mid-day half horizon stretch toward night. Nathen took in a deep breath and let it out.
“Game on,” he said.
Then he stroked the trigger.
Chapter 20
One second, the crater's antennae stood tall, looming toward the sky like an obelisk.
The next second its foundation erupted into a roaring fireball.
The watch tower, built halfway up the crater, came down with a wail of snapping, wrenching metal as the screaming Flogs stationed there followed it down in a macabre chase. The antenna slammed into the platform and broke apart, dismantling itself before the echoes of the explosion could fade away. Amid the startled, confused cries of the multiple races trying to discover what had happened, a distant 'crump' sounded outside the crater. Some of the garrison barely had time to realize their anti-bombardment defenses were down before the first mortar struck.
Prime Alpha (Planetary Powers Book 1) Page 24