"Destroy that position."
Wing-mounted rockets opened up on the approximate position of the enemy weapon emplacement. This was not the time for a precision strike. Nakoma wanted the Byotai punished, and as the rockets rained down, she chuckled. Bodies blasted up into the air, walls collapsed, and buildings broke apart from the onslaught.
"Good, very good. Senior Centurion, send in the next wave from the North. It's time to scatter them, like the weak prey that they are."
Four more gunships swept down to their allocated positions, and behind them came the fat shapes of the much larger Ma'heen armoured assault gunships. All of them spat gunfire as they cleared a vast swathe of territory to land on. One took a strong hit to a flank and quickly turned away to move out of the line of fire. A fifth swooped in to take its place, and then they were ready, with their harpoon gunners in position. Only then did Senior Centurion Okemos dare look back at Nakoma.
"Units are in position."
"Excellent. It is time to pacify this city. Start the assault, and remember, I want prisoners!"
As Okemos issued the order, Nakoma activated her own communications unit and connected to her officers at Montu. Back inside her fortified mountain fortress were scores more aircraft, and all waiting for the order to launch.
"This is Nakoma. Ready the next three waves. I want this assault to last until this time tomorrow."
CHAPTER FOUR
Rebel-held controlled Hyndla, Southern Depression
3,000km South of Montu
The impact should have knocked Lahok out cold, but he was made of stronger stuff. As he lay there groaning, he watched the yellow trail of another rocket screaming overhead. It was a beautiful, intoxicating sight, but also positively terrifying. The projectile vanished, and a moment later the ground shuddered under its powerful impact.
Get up!
He was tired, both mentally and physically, yet the last few months had shown him the true meaning of pain. All his family were dead, and most of his friends now suffered under the yoke of the Red Scars. He had no love of these alien raiders, and any thoughts he had for the planet were now gone. Nothing remained but the desire for revenge, and the bloodlust rose upon seeing every ill deed performed by the Red Scars and their allies. He had to fight, and he had to stop them.
Up!
He struggled against his body, every muscle trying to keep him on the ground. Then came the sight that put a deep-rooted shudder through his spine. A pair of black shapes flew overhead, and as they passed by, dozens of guns opened up. Small-calibre weapons struck the ground, hitting multiple locations at once. Lahok shook his head, snorted to clear the dust from his nose, and then grasped his looted rifle lying at his side. He expected to see it ruined, but a quick glance confirmed it had received little more than a few extra cuts and scratches. That was when he spotted the problem that had caught his eye, potentially saving his life.
The magazine is twisted. Idiot!
A soldier would have known better, but he lacked the indoctrination and discipline offered to the Imperial Armed Forces. He pulled the magazine into the correct position and slid off the safety. The mechanism released instantly, and he sighed with satisfaction. Now ready, he dragged himself back to the broken barricades and alongside the bodies of his kin.
So many dead, and we've not fired a shot back in anger.
"Aircraft!"
Lahok did not understand who was talking, but he'd already seen the dark shapes passing overhead and knew exactly what they were.
Clan Gunships.
He clambered past the broken shape of a dead Byotai and tried to lift his gaze from the broken remains. No matter how hard he tried, it proved almost impossible, and he almost collapsed upon recognising the figure. He gasped...and then pushed onwards. They were not soldiers or marines, and lacked any useful armour or training. Like the others, his thick clothing was covered in additional layers of cloth, and between them sat small plates of metal scrounged from a hundred different places. One of the elders spotted him and nodded, his bony forehead showing his pale, ancient skin. Lahok nodded back, a sign of respect to the old one he now fought alongside.
"Be ready," he whispered.
Lahok swallowed uncomfortably. His family had expected a tough life out here on the frontier, but nothing as bad as this. The arrival of the Anicinàbe clans had been violent and destructive, and though only a young man, he'd seen plenty of small skirmishes with raiders and bandits. Even when the Red Scars had arrived, his fellow Byotai settlers had offered only token resistance. The tracer fire lit up the night sky.
This is the real battle.
Today would be different, and already Lahok had imagined how he would perform. Like the others, he'd taken his long rifle from a fallen enemy, and all were more determined than ever to keep what they'd fought for. The brutality of the Red Scars had been enough for the entire city and its surrounding area to revolt against them. The other nine cities in the Southern Depression had failed in their attempt to break free, yet news continued to arrive telling of small groups fighting desperate last battles.
"My brother, are you ready for this?"
Lahok looked up. It was Squad Leader Mahos. Lahok checked behind him, but there was no sign of the rest of the 33rd. His throat became dry at the thought of them all dying so quickly and with no chance to avenge themselves. Just seconds before their number had been seven. The brave citizens of Hyndla would not back down now. Lahok had never seen a real battle until today, but as the rockets screamed overhead, he knew his time had come.
"Gunships!" yelled another.
Communications were limited to shouting and hand signals, and as the sound of explosions and gunfire increased, the more difficult it became to work with his comrades. He made it to the wall and watched open-mouthed as the sky filled with hundreds more gunshots. It looked as though every single occupant of Hyndla was firing blindly into the sky, and there was something exciting, almost majestic about it.
"Are you ready, Lahok?" Mahos asked.
He lifted his rifle to his shoulder and looked for his enemy.
There they are.
Four large black shapes dropped down from the sky, clouds of dust scattering at their flanks. They moved in a tight formation, perhaps only fifty metres between each , and hovering at about the same distance from the ground. One by one their forward facing guns and rocket systems smashed the defences, but Lahok was ready for them. He kept his head down and glanced backwards. Hyndla burned, yet for the all the destruction, he knew the majority of his comrades were underground.
The fools think this is all we have.
A rocket struck the improvised defensive wall to his right and blasted a hole three-metres wide. Any settlers sheltering behind it were instantly obliterated, and Lahok thanked the stars that he'd only seen one figure there prior to the explosion. Then he spotted movement under the gunships.
"Harpoons!"
It was the voice of Mahos, and without hesitating Lahok closed one eye and took careful aim. Smaller shapes drifted down from gunships as the clan warriors used the thin wire to slide down to the ground. They moved quickly, betraying their experience and comfort with such a deployment system. Lahok waited until they were halfway down before firing.
Now!
The gun kicked back hard and released a single metal slug to his target. Without pausing, he pulled the side lever that detached another rectangular round from the gelatin Vorex gel clip. Each bullet was entirely caseless, with the propellant and warhead enclosed inside the gel block. The gun was a primitive design and built in vast numbers by the Helions for their conscripted armies over a century ago. Now Lahok kept his eye on the shapes and fired again. This time the round struck home, and he chuckled as one of the hated enemy fell backwards and vanished from view. More and more of their number landed, and he counted eight shapes before the lines fell from the gunship, and the first lifted away. Seconds later, the other three did the same, leaving the handful of Byotai to fend off at
least thirty crazed warriors.
Aim low. Take your time.
The words had been repeated so often to Lahok over the last forty-eight hours, but the reality of the threat numbed his finger. He fired a third and fourth time, both missing. The fifth struck a gun or arm, and he ducked back behind the cover offered by the wall.
"Here, use this," said Mahos.
Lahok lifted his left hand and caught the five-round gel clip as it sailed towards him. He slipped it into the feeder mount and then pulled back the right-hand side bolt lever. The clip moved into position silently, ready to be fired with only the lightest pull on the trigger. As he turned away, a volley of shots peppered the wall.
Down!
Instinct forced him to the ground, yet still the shots blasted the rock to tiny chunks. He tried to stand, but another blast narrowly missed his head. As he dropped back down, he spotted the headless body of Mahos stumble and collapse into a heap on the ground, joining the rest of the 33rd. Lahok knew he should fight, but his body and mind refused to co-operate. As the first wave of clan warriors clambered over the wall, he was already gone, down the embankment and into the street.
Don't stop!
The smaller gunships were already lifting away to make room for their much larger brethren. The super-sized Ma'heen armoured assault gunships came in low and fast to avoid the sporadic gunfire that licked against their thick hides. These craft lacked the small, agile look of the Abn'dak Raptors, making up for it in sheer mass and brute force. They were clearly designed to insert entire military units on the ground in much the same fashion as the Alliance Mauler spacecraft.
Lahok stumbled and then fell, just as more shots crackled overhead. He slid for several metres, coming to a stop at the bottom of the embankment and near the shattered crawler.
Here they come.
As the spacecraft reached five metres above the ground, their retro engines fired, sending dust up into the air in a great cloud. A terrifying sound numbed Lahok to his very core. The landing legs extended out to the maximum and then came the crunch. These spacecraft were capable of atmospheric and space travel, and as they settled on their articulated skids, the entire craft seemed to groan under the weight.
As soon as the Ma'heen hit the ground, their forward ramps slammed to the floor and exposed their interiors. A squad of eight warriors charged out of each craft before spreading out into a crescent formation. One by one they dropped to their knees and raised their long rifles. The guns spat projectiles off into the night, providing additional covering fire for the rest of their brethren. Behind the first squads came the entire two centuries, each comprising eighty battle-hardened Spires warriors. At their fore marched a cloaked figure, dressed much like the others, but carrying nothing more than a curved sword in one hand. His face was covered in swathes of cloth, and his eyes protected by the usual red tinted goggles.
"No mercy!"
Lahok knew enough of the hated enemy's language to understand the shouting. He lifted up to his knees and spotted two of his comrades off in the distance. They were running away from the fight, and as they reached a building, they vanished, obliterated by yet another rocket strike.
We can't stop them, not in these numbers.
A handful of shots struck nearby. They felt as though they had only missed him by a matter of millimetres, but that could easily have been nothing more than his paranoia. He skidded past wreckage, lifted his left hand to his face, and ducked back behind the upturned crawler as a rocket exploded directly ahead. The blast showered him with dirt, but thankfully left him unscathed.
Where are they?
He kept low and looked back for his pursuers. Dark shapes flooded around the defences he'd just abandoned, but many more groups were splitting up and searching for signs of the defenders. He reached for his rifle, and instead found nothing but air.
You idiot!
He could have shouted in anger at his stupidity. In his desperation to escape he he'd left his rifle behind, leaving himself defenceless. As he moved his body even lower, he remembered the Human carbine. Reaching to the other side, he half expected to find it also gone, but to his surprise it was there, attached to its sturdy sling. Now armed, he checked the weapon while inching around the massive vehicle. It had obviously been knocked out months ago, and though useless, its great metal hulk proved the best protection nearby.
More explosions filled the horizon as the Byotai rebels paid the ultimate price for revolt. Large numbers of free-fall bombs scattered around the condensed compounds, sending broken rock and metal in every direction. The gunships continued to circle, opening fire on any defender that dared to show their heads. A pair broke from cover and was quickly gunned down by the hundreds of warriors now flooding this part of the city.
It is time. Either fight and die, or just die.
The clan warriors spread out, the cloaked figure leading them on through the ruins. There were now hundreds of them combing the streets and searching through the ruins for survivors. Lahok took aim and fired. To his astonishment, the shot was true and struck a soldier in the helmet. As the body crumpled to the ground, he yanked himself back into cover, but not before seeing the wild anger in the enemy group. One shouted and pointed towards the crawler, while another squad dragged several Byotai prisoners off into the distance. He spotted at least four already on the ramp of the nearest Ma'heen spacecraft and immediately felt a terrible pang of guilt.
I have to help them.
He lifted the carbine to his shoulder and aimed at the nearest group. His finger moved to the trigger, but something yanked the weapon down. An arm pinned him to side of the crawler as an armoured figure stepped around him, and then seemed to merge with the metal of the vehicle. A bizarre effect bent and twisted the light. He'd never seen this equipment, but before he could yell, the warrior opened fire. The gun spat green energy much like the weapons used by the Khreenk. The fire was short and deadly, leaving more than a dozen of the enemy dead without needing to reload. Once finished, it returned, and the front of the armoured helm slid open to show a middle-aged Human, his face scarred. He looked calm and confident.
"Come with me."
As the Human spoke, a voice synthesiser altered the tones to an artificial, but understandable version of his tongue. Lahok was stunned.
"Who are you?"
The Human soldier opened fire again and then resealed his helmet before pulling Lahok behind him. They passed the wreckage of the crawler and headed towards a gap between two broken buildings. In the past it might have been a small shopping district, or more likely nothing more than an alleyway. On they went, and Lahok found he had to push his body to keep up with the fit Human warrior. As they rounded the next corner, they ran into the path of four clan warriors. Lahok stopped and lifted his weapon, but the alien soldier didn't hesitate. His carbine spat twice, killing two instantly before he crashed into the nearest one. An extending bayonet pushed out from his carbine and jammed into the throat, killing another.
What is he?
Lahok hesitated, the fear and awe of the killing machine in front of him leaving him stunned. Only one remained, and the warrior returned fire with his spiked weapon. The sharpened bolt glanced off the carefully shaped shoulder plates of the Human, and then it was over. Two shots to the head, and all four enemy warriors were dead. The Human looked back at him.
"The name’s Sergeant Tyler, IAB. Can you escape from here on your own?"
The voice was artificial and without emotion. Lahok swallowed and then looked to his left. The city burned, and overhead flew the shapes of more Spires gunships. He'd never seen so many in one place, and they fired their weapons almost continually.
"No. I..."
The Human extended an arm towards him.
"Then come with me. I could use your help."
Lahok hesitated.
"Where are you going?"
Again there was the sound of steps, but as Lahok lifted his weapon, the Human stopped him. Another blurred shaped moved in
front, and that shifted shape to show a second armoured Human. They spoke for a moment before the Sergeant looked back at Lahok. He then pointed to the North.
"Back to headquarters, at Melantias. We have to be quick. The Spires are not messing around this time."
Lahok's eyes lit up in excitement.
"Melantias.
"Yeah. You coming?"
Without checking to see if he was behind, they rushed off, ducking below metal girders and leaping over rubble. They made it six blocks before Lahok thought his chest would explode. The battle continued to rage, but it was already clear that only a few Byotai remained to fight. The rest had thrown down their weapons and fled, hiding themselves in whatever buildings remained or went underground. They rounded the next corner and right into the path of a burning Ma'heen armoured assault gunship.
"Get down!" yelled the Sergeant.
Lahok was no expert, but he'd seen how this Human fought and instinctively did as he was told. As he slid into cover, dozens of clan warriors rushed out from the damaged craft. Multiple small explosions ripped through its interior, and many more were enveloped in flames as they tried to escape out of its partially sealed escape hatches. Three lumbered ahead and spotted Lahok, even though he was doing his best not to move. One lifted his rifle and immediately selected his fate.
Two small holes appeared in the warrior's chest, and he stumbled back against the burning spacecraft. Another jumped to the right, only to be cut down by a burst fired from the second Human. The third, sensing the battle was not going his way, did the sensible thing. Without hesitating, the warrior disappeared into the darkness.
"What now?" Lahok asked.
To his amazement, the two Humans were now clambering about inside the damaged spacecraft, and the second ran a computer device along the internal systems.
What are they doing now, collecting data?
The Humans searched the craft thoroughly until finally they emerged, one of them carrying a ruggedized computer system under his arm. The Sergeant looked at Lahok and nodded.
Battle for Karnak (Star Crusades: Mercenaries, Book 4) Page 6