by Isaac Stone
Each of them was issued a rail gun, which could hurl a small chunk of hardened titanium, once it was accelerated by magnetic induction, at a target. The gun resembled an old-fashioned rifle, since the Force figured out a long time ago some designs worked best no matter what the delivery system. It was powered by a generator in the armrest. The rail gun could shoot up to a thousand rounds on full auto, or single shot, before it needed to be recharged or reloaded.
Bey had them line up. He looked his men over. By now, he was suited up and ready to go as well. Tulpa stood by his side in silence as he always did. He tapped his helmet and everyone checked their radio to make sure it was on.”
“Everyone hear me?” he asked the legion. “I hope so because my stats claim I’m transmitting successfully to every one of you dogs. We’re going to go over the plan because you will need to remember it when we hit the ground. The drop shuttle will take us down to the surface and….”
“Breech!” a new voice transmitted over the channel. This was not Bey’s words and he froze upon hearing it.
“Breech in shuttle drop bay!” The voice continued to transmit. “Everyone suit up! The hull might be compromised!” The voice quit yelling but no one looked relieved.
“Appears you fine young men will get to use your training early,” Bey announced to them as he unslung his rail gun. “The enemy is inside the ship. This is a violation of the agreements, but they don’t always play by the rules. Hold tight, they’ll be inside here in minutes.”
The door in front of them blew open and was sent across the bay on its hinges. There was a brief moment of silence, and then twenty suited troopers wearing the red color of the Zhong Republic poured into the room, firing at them as they came forward.
Chapter 9
Five minutes later, the men in the red armor were all dead, but only one of the Volunteers was down with an injury. The shattered bodies of the ZR troopers were scattered over the punctured shuttle bay. Bey and Tulpa walked over the scene counting the dead as they tried to figure out who had the most kills. The shuttle bay was punched with holes from the rail guns.
As Harlo stood in place hyperventilating, two things occurred to him. One, he had scored a kill of his own and, two, the clock had started on the first day.
After the maintenance crew had patched most of the severe punctures, the roofs of the drop shuttles opened and the legions were loaded into five different ships. Bey and Tulpa took the lead one and made sure Harlo was in it. Entrance to the drop ships was through the floor of the battle station, although they used the non-rotating part of it and there was no gravity. “Floor” might as well have been wall in this situation. Panels slid apart and they were instructed to enter the personnel area of the ships. This time they locked themselves in place.
“Good job back there, puppy,” Bey told him as they were seated. Next to the acceleration couch was a sleeve for their rail guns.
Harlo looked around and noted the absence of Jack. He’d wanted to make the drop with him as the two hung out together during the training. He sat quiet with the others as he heard the grinding of parts when the doors sealed shut. A minute later Jack appeared and seated himself across from Harlo.
“Hey, Sarge,” one of the other Volunteers asked. “I thought there was supposed to be some agreement against what happened.”
“Yeah,” Bey answered, “So did I. Appears someone didn’t get the message. We should be safe on the way down. Keep in mind at four hundred feet from the ground we’re open targets because the latest agreement doesn’t extend that far down.” Harlo saw the look of fear pass through everyone’s face.
“The plan is for us to act as an airborne assault force,” Bey transmitted to rest of the legion. “We’ll be dropped right inside this fortress they want to hold. If it runs according to plan, we should have this part wrapped up in one hour. The drop shuttle will let us out and in the middle of the fortress parade yard, we’ll take control of the communications tower, and the next wave will secure the weapons depot. We’ll allow the siege force inside. It will be over at that stage. The Z-boys will surrender and we’ll have the fortress.”
“Surrender?” Tulpa asked. “You mean I have to…?”
“Take prisoners,” Bey snapped. “You have to accept their surrender this time or they send you back to Earth.”
“Damn, I wanted to beat my last record. And me with a new gun.”
There was a shutter inside their part of the shuttle and they felt it move. They couldn’t see outside, which was probably a good idea. Harlo could feel it move as the vibration began below his feet. At least his rail gun was next to him.
“Drop in three minutes,” the voice from the pilot came over his audio system. “You will feel a lunge as we enter the atmosphere and some movement as I adjust the descent of the ship.
“Some information on the Blue Lotus Fortress is coming over your visual feed,” Bey announced. “Look at the small screen in the corner of your helmet and it will let you know what we’re headed into.” Harlo turned to the tiny image that appeared inside the helmet.
Before him was a stone fortress at least four levels in height. It appeared to be new, but did have an older foundation. The image swooped over it and Harlo realized he looked at a visual from a robotic scout. The image stabilized about a hundred feet in the air and he had a good look at the Blue Lotus Fortress.
In the background rose a mountain of immense height that pointed up the sky. The size of it dwarfed anything back on Earth, but he remembered there’d been no natural erosion to wear it down until the terraforming of Mars was complete. He was surprised the fortress was so small in comparison to the mountain, but all the fort had to do was defend a pass or hold a position.
There were three peaked towers, which rose up from the top level of it. They had all manner of lights mounted on them. Across the battlements of the top walls, a score of cannons were mounted. He could see the crews as they worked to keep them in top shape. Outside the fortress was a plain landscape littered with barbed wire fencing and craters. The image spanned over it to show trenches dug around it. Each trench was filled with red armored ZR soldiers who were just as determined to keep the Olympian troopers out as the Olympians were to get inside. Other trenches were dug on the reverse side, each facing the fortress the best they could. This was a mountain pass and the ZR wanted to maintain control of it.
Blue Lotus was shaped in a “U”, with the top connected toward the points by a section that closed it off. It appeared to Harlo the ZR had built a “U”, and then decided it needed to be defended better, so they closed it. Inside was some kind of courtyard or parade ground. The inner part of the walls opened up to show numerous galleries on the first and second levels. The roof was encased in stone as preventative measure against artillery fire.
He watched men on the inside work on more cannons. They appeared to be doing maintenance, but it was hard to tell. The fort could hold quite a few soldiers, as there was plenty of space for support units and maintenance crews to keep it running. He couldn’t tell how many men were on the outside, but they were all faced against the Olympian Forces on the other side of the battlefield. The back portion of the fortress was lightly defended as it faced the main body of the ZR army.
Not much room to drop us in that place, Harlo thought. Guess they’ll do it in stages. Going to suck real bad if we are stranded on the inside.
“I have some good news for a change,” Bey announced again. “We have several units ready to move with us from the other side of our trenches. We won’t have to take that place alone. When the drop begins, the defenders will be preoccupied with an assault in progress against them. It should work out in our favor.”
“Drop initiating,” the pilot announced. “Prepare for a sudden descent!” Harlo made sure he was secure in the chair.
Chapter 10
The shuttle tilted, then began to roll. Harlo noticed the gravity pull returned, which meant they were inside the gravitational field of Mars. He tried no
t to worry, as the shuttle pilot seemed to know what he was doing. He felt himself bounce inside the armor, but nothing serious. So far, the display panel inside his helmet had not found anything odd about his suit. This was good as the last thing he wanted to happen right now was a suit malfunction.
“How many times you done this, Sarge?” another one of the Volunteers asked Bey.
“More than I can count,” he replied. “Now Tulpa here, I bet he knows how many times.” Bey nodded at his corporal.
“Twenty seven,” he announced with pride. “Including the time the shuttle had to return for repairs. We had this new guy who went crazy during the drop, but I took care of him.” Harlo was glad he spared everyone the details.
“One minute till contact,” the pilot announced.
“As soon as those rear doors open,” Bey told everyone, “Get your asses out there. The pilot has to go back and make several trips. He doesn’t need you standing around with your hands in your pockets. Make sure you have that rail gun safety off because you don’t want to be running outside and pulling a trigger that doesn’t work. I’ve seen two men go down that way.”
Harlo had no way to know it, but the pilot and his copilot saw trouble the moment the fortress came into visual range. They could see the bombardments from the plasma cannons against the enemy troops as they made their way across the dividing land between the Olympian companies and the ZR ones. The cannons fired in sequence and eradicated what remained of a barricaded area between the two. He watched two huge concrete barriers blown out of the ground and destroyed as they were hurled into the air.
Worse yet, he could see mobile guns on the ground. The ZR had maneuverable antiaircraft guns that ringed the fortress from all angles. In another thirty seconds, they would be within range of the guns. The rules against shooting down aircraft, often violated anyway, didn’t apply to any craft this low, no matter what the design. He turned and looked at his avionics board. No red lights from enemy radar detection, but it wouldn’t be much longer.
Seeing what lay ahead, the pilot turned to his copilot, who was monitoring the condition of the shuttle. “I want you to bring up the belly gun,” he told him. “We are about to run into some heavy traffic down there and I need you to keep them busy.”
“No problem,” the other man told him. “I’ll bring it up online and we’ll go hunting.”
The co-pilot slipped on his guidance helmet and released the display of the shuttle system to the pilot. This act meant the pilot had to keep all the flight systems under control by himself. He still needed someone to actively monitor the gun on the bottom of the shuttle. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if the shuttle was blown out of the sky while they were trying to find a safe place to land.
The gun on the bottom of the shuttle fired depleted uranium bullets from a magnetic rail system, the same as the guns the Volunteers carried. It had a difference in that it could carry a round of ten thousand bullets in one trip. The slugs it fired were not the hardest substance the Force could use, but it was the most effective for what they were about to fly into that morning. Dawn was breaking as the shuttle made its final approach at the Blue Lotus Fortress.
The gun hummed and retracted out of the pod. It was carried there during the entry into the atmosphere. It couldn’t be used when the shuttle did the drop to the surface, as anything on the body of the shuttle would be incinerated from the friction with the air. There was a slight click that the copilot felt and he knew the gun was now operational. The shuttle had slowed its air speed down to the point where the surface no longer glowed from the heat.
The viewfinder the copilot wore turned the entire display in front of him to a simulated battlefield. The small highlights that appeared to his eyes were generated by the onboard computer used to help fly the shuttle and aim the guns. He watched a small circle wrap around important targets on the ground. Arrows appeared over the advancing troops from the Olympia side as they slid across the cratered no man’s land that divided the two zones of occupation. He saw another display turn green to let him know the gun was powered and ready to fire.
Off to one side an avatar appeared to offer him any advice he might need to operate the weapon hugged by the drop shuttle. “Hello,” it said, “I’m Major Mike from the comic book, Action Heroes. If you have any questions about how to use your Mark Seven Eradicator, just let me know and I’ll be glad to help.”
The co-pilot thanked him, but no, he didn’t need help. The avatar smiled, saluted, and vanished. The big gun was ready to rain death on any target the co-pilot might select.
The ZR guns on the ground allowed them another 25 feet below the limit before they began to shoot. At 375 feet, the first of the mobile guns on the ZR side of the fortress began to open up. It was delayed and the pilot wondered if they were allowed more advantage because of the ill-planned assault on the battle station that orbited over Olympia territory. The copilot heard a buzz in his ear as the targeting avionics indicated an explosive shell in flight. It didn’t bother him, as it was far off target. This had to be a warning shot and he watched the shell explode into a cloud of dust far to the front of him.
A massive nuke attack on every ZR battle station was avoided only because the Zhong Republic claimed the assault team who’d struck at the Olympia battle station acted without authorization from their Command. The Olympia Command refused to believe it and threatened to bring out every back up in their arsenal. This stopped when they found out the ZR ground batteries held off firing at the drop shuttle until it was well below the level of the agreement. For now, there would be no massive battles in space, which neither side could afford anyway. The war would continue on the ground until a way could be found for one side to gain an advantage over the other. Rules within rules and plans within plans.
Chapter 11
Seconds later, the display in the co-pilot’s helmet lit with countless gun and rocket fire. The ZR units on the ground had deduced the objective of the shuttle mission. The co-pilot was busy as he deflected missiles, shot at rockets, and sent uranium bullets down to the gun emplacements on the ground. The air was filled with explosions and smoke as the ZR military did everything it could do to take out the drop shuttles.
From inside the shuttle, Harlo rocked in his chair as he felt the concussion from the explosions in the air. There wasn’t much in the way of recoil from the co-pilot’s gun, but when it fired on automatic, they could feel the shuttle vibrate from the gunfire. The firing would start up, stop, and then resume. It was plain to them whoever was on the ground wanted them dead.
“Nothing we can do, Sarge?” Harlo asked Bey. “Is there any kind of gun port where we can shoot back?” His teeth chattered in his helmet.
“You’ve been watching the videos again,” Bey, sneered. “Any gun port in this shuttle would be an opening for us to burn alive during entry. Besides, most of what shoots at us is so far away your gun would do no good. Just stay put and let the gunner, whoever he is, take care of this mess. Once we get on the ground it will be our turn to shoot back, but not until.” Harlo nodded and tried to breathe easy.
The gun took out most of the smaller batteries on the ground as the shuttle passed into range, but there were much more behind the fortress deep into ZR territory. The co-pilot wasn’t worried about the ammunition supply, as the gun was fully loaded before they left. The concern that pressed him the most was the condition of the gun itself. Several times during the firefight, it threatened to shut down from overheating, but the copilot was able to keep it functional. He continued to use it against the few missiles the forces on the ground sent up at them, but the projectiles became harder and harder to strike the closer they came to the fortress.
“A fighter escort would have been nice,” the co-pilot grumbled as he located another rocket headed at them and erased it out of the sky.
“For what?” the pilot asked. “They would never use them against the ground. Any fighter would be busy doing the same thing we are. And they don’t have th
e same ability to shoot at projectiles. We’re stuck no matter what happens. Just do what you can to take them out and I’ll find us a safe way down.”
The gunner swore and continued to shoot at what the ZR units on the ground sent up at him. All it took was one projectile to get through and it would be over. The shuttle had armor plating on its surface, but he doubted it would hold up to the kinds of weapons used by the ZR. He didn’t particularly want to find out.
The shuttle lunged to one side and Harlo was thrown to the opposite side of his chair. The straps on the armor kept him from being thrown out of the chair, but he had no way of knowing how long it would continue. His head was shaking inside the helmet. If only there was some way for him to shoot back.
“Heavy weather out there,” Tulpa snickered. “Did anyone forget to pack an umbrella?” The man was, literally, afraid of nothing.” Harlo couldn’t see his face inside the helmet from his angle, but was sure the corporal had a grin on it.
“Thirty seconds until ground,” the pilot informed them.
There was a loud bang inside the compartment where the Volunteers were seated. Harlo felt his body shake from the shock of whatever hit the ship. He looked to his display and saw the cabin was depressurizing, which meant something had blown a hole in it. Whatever it was had damaged the armor around the shuttle. It made him wonder what other damage took place.
“We’re hit!” the pilot’s voice let them know. “Don’t worry; I still have enough fuel and ordinances to get you down safely. Prepare for a hard landing, we don’t have much room to make a mistake.” Harlo gritted his teeth.