Tides of War (Rebellion Book 3)

by M. R. Forbes

  "Roger, Mech One," Ehri said, her mech turning immediately and heading toward the city.

  Donovan tracked it on his HUD, watching the spot move away from their group. He put his eyes on the edge of the city, to the broken buildings that spotted the outskirts, and then to the more densely packed destruction beyond. He still wasn't seeing-

  His mind switched gears when he caught sight of the movement and a flash of sunlight vanishing against the dark armor of a Dread mech.

  "Mech Two, hold position," he said, bringing Ehri to a stop. "Actual, we have positive ID on the enemy. At least one mechanized armor, but I'm willing to bet there are more."

  "Copy that, Delta. See if you can pull them out."

  "Affirmative." Donovan switched systems again. "Able, Bertha, spread out and find cover. Bertha One Two, get Big Bertha online and in position."

  "Roger, Delta Actual," the units replied.

  Donovan steered his mech to the right, approaching Ehri. The Dread mech hadn't moved or revealed itself. It was stationary, shrouded by the remains of the skyscraper it was resting next to.

  "They aren't attacking," Donovan said, opening a direct channel to Ehri's mech.

  "No."

  "Even though we're getting into a better position?"

  "The Domo'dahm has decided to allow us to attack first. It is not required of a challenge, but he is feeling confident."

  "Should he be?"

  "The domo'shah in orbit carried close to fifty mechanized armors and nearly fifteen thousand clone soldiers. I imagine they have left most of the armors behind, and a large contingent of the infantry. There is little reason to think that he is concerned about our assault. Clearly, his focus is on General St. Martin."

  Donovan had known they were going to be outnumbered. It wasn't the first time Ehri had outlined what they were up against. How the hell were they supposed to win, again?

  He forced the sudden wave of panic down. He wondered how many of the other rebels out there were feeling the same way? It didn't help to think about what they were up against, or how impossible it seemed. If they didn't fight today, they were going to die tomorrow anyway. At least they were giving themselves a chance.

  "Delta Actual, this is Bertha One Two. Big Bertha is online and in position."

  "Roger, Bertha One Two," Donovan replied. "Prepare to fire on my mark."

  "Affirmative."

  "They will attack as soon as we fire, Colonel," Ehri said.

  Donovan stared at the outline of the city in front of him. He turned the mech slightly, looking north to the remainder of the rebel army. They were still a few klicks behind, hanging back while Delta Battalion did its job.

  "Actual, this is Delta," Donovan said. "We are in position to commence the attack. Big Bertha is prepared to fire. Waiting on your mark, sir."

  "Roger, Delta," General Parker replied. "Hold tight."

  There was a long pause. Donovan imagined the General was passing orders to the other battalions, getting them into position to make their runs. They didn't expect everyone to get through. They didn't need to all get in. The inside of the domo'shah would be lightly defended, or at least they hoped it would.

  "Delta, this is Actual. All battalions are in position. Bertha One Two, fire on my mark."

  Donovan's heart began to thump at the words. He quickly checked his renovated mech's weapons systems, confirming a full payload of projectile ammunition and a ready state on the plasma cannons.

  "Delta Actual, this is Bertha One Two. If you could, please take two steps to the left."

  Donovan swallowed, surprised by the statement. This was no time to lose it. "Roger, Bertha One Two," he replied, moving his mech to the side.

  "Bertha One Two," General Parker's voice said. "Fire."

  FORTY-NINE

  THE BEAM FROM BIG Bertha passed right beside Donovan, so close that the mech began bleating warnings into his ears. He took another involuntary step to the side, squinting his eyes in reaction to the brightness of the bolt as it streaked past.

  Less than two seconds later, it speared its target, the dark shape of the mech Donovan had spotted vanishing against the point of light, vaporized by the power of the augmented weapon. The bolt continued through, into the city, blasting into a building and bringing the remains of it down into a heavier pile before fading away.

  "So it begins," Donovan said to himself before connecting with the squad channel. "All units, move in." He shifted to the human radio mounted in front of him. "Able, Bertha, hold steady, we'll try to bring them to you. Prepare Big Bertha for another volley."

  "Roger," the company commanders replied.

  The six mechs moved in toward the city limits, in the direction the plasma bolt had traveled. It would take another minute or two for the charge to rebuild in the cannon and allow it to fire with such devastating force again. They were on their own in the meantime.

  Donovan had only made it a dozen steps before the plasma bolts began to pour from the city. They were well-aimed blasts that slammed into the mechs, catching them square and sending more warnings into his ears. One bolt wouldn't be nearly enough to drop the armor, but it was a bad omen of things to come. He slipped his mech to the side, tracking the source of the attack to locate the attackers. They were still hidden from his sensors, and he knew they shouldn't be.

  It seemed the Domo'dahm hadn't just been sitting back and waiting.

  "Actual, this is Delta. I'm not sure how, but it looks like the enemy is invisible to our sensors. Repeat, we're blind beyond line of sight."

  The pause before General Parker's response was long enough Donovan knew he was trying to work out a new approach on the fly. Without sensor readings, they had no idea what their main force was stepping into.

  "Roger, Delta." Another pause. "It's too late to turn back now. Get us a path if you can."

  "Roger," Donovan said, shifting his mech as a plasma bolt streaked past. He checked the location in the HUD and fired back, quieting the enemy attack for a moment. He shifted to the mech comm. "Okay people, we're going in. Head for the front lines, we'll try to engage and start pulling them south. Bertha One Two, hold position. Bertha One Three, Bertha One Four, stay with Bertha One Two and provide fire support. Mech Six, hang back with Bertha One Two, we can't afford to let them hit Big Bertha."

  He looked up as the units affirmed his instructions. Luckily, the air was still clear of gi'shah. A few good strafing runs would whittle their numbers down in a hurry, but it seemed the Domo'dahm was holding those resources in wait for the space force.

  Donovan brought his mech ahead at full charge, running across the open space toward the cover of the outlying buildings. Of course, Ehri was tracking ahead of him, while Colonel Knight was hanging close to his side. Orli was in Mech Six, and she backed away toward Big Bertha while the others advanced.

  Plasma bolts were joined by projectiles as they drew nearer to the city, and Donovan diverted to find cover behind a blown out building. Colonel Knight joined him there, while Ehri, Bastion, and Knowles found cover further south.

  "This is Bertha One Two. Big Bertha is charged and ready. Fire in the hole."

  A second massive plasma bolt streaked between the mech unit, blasting forward and striking its target. Donovan rose from cover behind it, just in time to see the remains of two mechs topple to the ground with a soft thud. He opened fire into the space around the blast, pouring projectiles and plasma into a third mech that had been forced into the open. It rocked from the attack, falling back as Colonel Knight added her firepower to his. It fell over a moment later and didn't move again.

  "Mech One, this is Able Three One. We've got movement from the south. A whole lot of movement."

  The commander of Third Platoon sounded frightened. Donovan turned south, his view blocked by a building. He sidestepped around it, searching for line of sight, nearly caught off-guard by an enemy mech that popped out from a nearby alley. A line of projectiles tore into his left arm, leaving a large, open wound before he cou
ld back away from it, getting himself under cover.

  "I've got him, Mech One," Colonel Knight said, crossing his path and moving in on the mech. She was joined there by Bastion, catching the mech in the crossfire and mowing it down.

  "Bertha One Two," Donovan said. "Get Big Bertha turned to the south and find a target. Fire when ready."

  "Roger, Mech One."

  "Mech One, this is Bertha Five One," Kroeger said, sounding angry. "We have incoming from the west. Transports, Colonel, just about ready to drop an entire army on our asses."

  Donovan spun his mech to the west, looking back past their positions. He saw the transports dotting the sky behind them, two dozen at least. Damn.

  "Nobody said this was going to be easy," he replied. "Actual, we have incoming from the south."

  "Roger, Delta," Parker replied, sounding a little overwhelmed. "Keep pushing forward, clear a lane. We'll handle the rear as best we can."

  "Roger."

  Donovan got his mech moving again, running parallel to the city in an effort to get a visual on the forces moving up from the south. He nearly shouted as a powerful plasma beam struck the building a few meters in front of him, sending chunks of slagged concrete rattling against his mech.

  He rounded the debris and froze, making eye contact with two columns of Dread tanks, approaching almost leisurely from the south, a dozen mechs and at least a thousand clones soldiers in support.

  He bit down on his lip, preventing himself from saying out loud what he was thinking at that moment.

  They were all going to die.

  FIFTY

  RORN'EL WATCHED THE BATTLE unfold from his throne, a projection of the battlefield being delivered to him from a gi'shah monitoring the fight from far above it. As he had suspected, the ground forces the humans had sent against him were far too little and far too weak to be of much concern, even with the bek'hai assets they had taken. While the plasma cannon that had given his units so much trouble on the streets of Austin continued to inflict heavy damage, it wasn't as easy to move its position out here, and it would only be a matter of time before his forces got close enough to destroy it.

  "Domo'dahm, shall we order the gi'shah to join the attack?" Orish'ek asked, observing the battle from his usual position. He spoke softly, as if he were already bored with the humans' efforts.

  "No. We will follow the plan and keep the gi'shah in reserve for the Ishur."

  "Domo'dahm, with all honor, we have an opportunity to make a quick end of the ground forces before they can reach the cover of the city. Should we not seize on it?"

  Rorn'el considered it for a moment. He had expected the battle against the rebels to go smoothly, as long as they launched their attack before the Ishur arrived. His pur'dahm were not disappointing him, their forces circling the enemy and slowly boxing them in. In time, there would be nowhere for the humans to go. They would be surrounded on all sides, defeated whether they knew it then or not. How could the humans have believed they could possibly win this fight? Were they so desperate they had abandoned all reason? It certainly seemed so.

  "Am I not the Domo'dahm?" Rorn'el hissed.

  "Yes, Domo'dahm," Orish'ek replied, lowering his head.

  "We do not need the gi'shah to win this battle." He pointed to the projection. "Look at how they are moving. Already, their formations are breaking down as they seek shelter from our soldiers. These are not warriors, Orish'ek. Their courage lasts only as long as they are away from our plasma."

  "What about the mechanized armors?" Orish'ek asked, pointing to them on the display. "They are inflicting heavy damage on our units. We have lost ten mechs to their one already. That is more than we have ever lost in a single day since we arrived here."

  "We won't need the mechs anymore, once this battle is over. What does it matter if we lose ten, or twenty, or even fifty? When we have defeated the Ishur, the humans will be broken. We can continue the extermination without distraction."

  "The Ishur has yet to arrive."

  "All the more reason to remain patient. Believe me, Orish'ek. The humans will either crumble when they see their last hope destroyed, or we will have crushed them long before that. Look. Look."

  He pointed to where the humans had placed their plasma cannon. A single gur'shah was defending it, and while the pilot was fairly skilled they were about to be overcome. Three gur'shah were closing in on the position, along with an entire cycle of gel'shah and a hundred soldiers. The humans were putting up a solid fight, but they simply didn't have the numbers.

  One of the gur'shah vanished as the plasma cannon fired for the last time, catching it head on and reducing it to slag. A few of the clones died with the hit, caught in the radius of the blast. Immediately after, five human soldiers lifted the cannon to their shoulders, attempting to change locations with it. He had seen them move it back a few times already while it recharged, but now there were more enemies at their back, closing in, sweeping through the rebels.

  The gel'shah fired on the position, the entire cycle at once sending a mass of plasma into the area. The lone rebel gur'shah managed to avoid the bolts, but the cannon was not so fortunate. It exploded at the impact, sending shrapnel out and into the humans around it and killing dozens of them.

  "That will be a strong hit on their will to fight," Rorn'el said. "I do not expect this battle to continue. The Ishur will come, but they will be fighting alone."

  "Only if that one goes down," Orish'ek said, bringing Rorn'el's attention to another part of the battle. One of the rebel mechs was moving through the city, trailing a sizeable force behind it as they tried to destroy it. It moved unlike the others, with a smoothness and grace that was beyond human.

  "Ehri dur Tuhrik," Rorn'el said. "There is none other that it could be. Their cannon is destroyed. Redeploy the gel'shah toward her location. I want her destroyed."

  "Yes, Domo'dahm," Orish'ek said, shifting to his terminal. He spoke into it, and a moment later the gel'shah began moving back south in pursuit of the un'hai.

  Rorn'el leaned back on his throne, his eyes drifting to the different parts of the projection, watching the humans scatter and break beneath the onslaught of his military. They had learned of the loss of their cannon, and even from above the effect on them was obvious. Whatever morale they had possessed when the fight began, it was quickly evaporating.

  And where was the Ishur? His domo'shah were in position, ready to blow it to dust the moment it appeared from slipspace should General St. Martin be foolish enough to drop too close to the planet. He was even prepared for it to come out of slipspace below their defensive web again, with over one hundred gi'shah and ek'shah ready to deploy at a moment's notice.

  The General was a fool to challenge him. Any who might think to oppose him were fools for the idea. At the same time, in a way he was thankful for all that had happened since Ehri dur Tuhrik had allowed the humans to escape with their technology. After all, the human rebellion had continued for fifty cycles, and now they would be able to put an end to it, to all of it, within a single rotation.

  He had sworn that he would see the humans extinct before his retirement, and he was glad it was a promise he would be able to keep.

  He reached into his gori'shah robes, taking out the splintered crucifix from Juliet's rosary. He had always admired her desire for peace, her desire for understanding between the bek'hai and the humans, and her efforts to introduce them to her all-powerful God. But there was a great divide between admiration and agreement. Like the legri'shah, the humans were tools to be used. So it was for the strongest of the bek'hai, and so it would always be.

  "Domo'dahm," Orish'ek said excitedly. "We have a report from the Ishkrem. A domo'shah has just appeared on our sensors. It is undoubtedly the Ishur, Domo'dahm."

  "Undoubtedly," Rorn'el replied, his lips parting, his tongue flicking out between sharp teeth. "What is their position?"

  "They are positioned behind the moon, Domo'shah, using it as a shield against a potential attack."


  "General St. Martin was wise to be cautious, but it will not save him. Order the domo'shah to intercept the Ishur. Do not give it an avenue to escape."

  "Yes, Domo'dahm."

  Rorn'el turned his attention back to the earthbound battle. The General had arrived too late to prevent their defeat. Much too late. The truth of it gave him pause.

  Why was the General so cautious, after all of his past maneuvers had been so bold?

  There was something about it that he didn't trust, but he couldn't quite grasp what it was. Not that it mattered. The battle was already over, the war already won.

  The humans just didn't know it yet.

  FIFTY-ONE

  GABRIEL BREATHED SLOWLY, FORCING himself to remain calm as the domo'shah's phase generators powered down, dropping the Ishur from slipspace back into reality. He felt a sudden wave of nausea at the change, his body affected by the number of times they had slipped in the last two weeks, and he swallowed and tried to focus beyond it.

  "Status," he said, looking down at the skeleton crew helping him run the Magellan.

  "The Ishur is out of slipspace," Miranda said, looking back at him. "Comm systems are online."

  ""Weapons systems are online," Colonel Choi said, staring at her tablet.

  "Power levels are at one hundred percent," Sarah Larone said. "Phase modulators are stable."

  "The Dread zero-point reactors are purring like a kitten," Guy Larone said.

  Gabriel nodded, his hand running across the controls of the starship from the command station. Everything was running the way it was supposed to, which meant it was all up to him now.

  "Attention all hands, attention all hands," he said, opening a ship wide channel. "Prepare for ingress. I repeat, prepare for ingress. This is not a drill."

  He couldn't see it, but he could picture the thousands of soldiers filling the belly of the repaired starship doing their best to buckle themselves in, preparing for the drop.