Hell Fighters from Earth

by William C. Seigler

  “Yeah, that’s what I was hoping the .308 would solve.”

  “It’s a good round, more effective than the .223, but I think you should be happy with the results from the .30-06.”

  Denver loaded up a magazine for the .308 and fired it off. There was even less recoil. Comparing the two, he really could not feel all that much difference; the recoil mechanism was so effective. Having to carry ammo for miles, now that might be another matter.

  “Works great; I’ll have to take them back and demonstrate them to the brass. Then how do we handle the problem of production?”

  “Yes, how indeed?” responded Dmitri.

  He continued, “I can build you one of anything, but thousands, that’s another matter.”

  “What will you need?” asked Denver.

  “What will I need?” laughed Dmitri. “Who the hell you think you are, huh? You’re just a captain, not a general. I’ve heard murmurs from the Trups. They’re not too happy with you.”

  “I suspected as much. I would have been let out on an airless moon by now if it weren’t for this war.”

  Dmitri was busy pouring the clear elixir into two glasses his men produced. They were always on alert, some keeping an eye on Denver especially when he held the prototypes and others turned outward, looking for an as yet invisible enemy.

  “You’re right about that, though,” Smith continued. “To be honest with you, I’ve been wondering what they intend to do with us once this war is over.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Dmitri.

  “Well, consider for a minute, the war is over, okay?”

  “Okay,” agreed Dmitri emptying his glass and reaching for the bottle.

  “Now they know one of us can whip several of them mano-a-mano; we’ve got the weapons, training, and experience. No war; we’re just sitting around doing nothing. They have to be thinking about that. The lizards came close to solving the problem for them the last time …” His voice trailed off.

  “You think they might just try and get us killed off.”

  “That possibility has occurred to me,” answered Denver.

  They drank in silence for a while both men lost in their thoughts. The list of possibilities of what to do with an army one no longer needed was not a long one. They could all be carried back to Earth and dropped off, with pockets full of gold, hopefully. However, right now Earth was not in too great a shape.

  Then again, would Earth’s governments really want us back? Heck, they did not want us in the first place, or we would not be here. What if they needed an army in the future? Better not kill us off or drop us off.

  Dmitri spoke up first. “What do we do?”

  “Well, we don’t jump the gun. We have a war to win. However, we had better be prepared. I’ll need you to handle production. Just produce more than you are telling them.”

  “You mean in case they try to disarm us and do with us as they please?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll need more men, and I’ll need a larger place to work.” He quickly added, “Without too many Trups looking over my shoulder.”

  “I’ll see what I can do; no promises on the oversight. Now, if you produce only 100 a week, officially, that would be ten weeks for a thousand. In 20 weeks or about five months, we can have enough to reasonably arm the legion.”

  “Do we have five months?” asked Dmitri.

  “I don’t know.”

  “The Trups don’t think so.”

  Smith was genuinely surprised. “How do you know?”

  “Ha, you’re the one in Intel, you tell me.”

  “You’re the one with spies in their beds,” spouted Denver.

  “True, but if you could supply me with some electronics, I could get even better intelligence.”

  “You mean plant bugs?” It was a question not a statement.

  “That and anything else you can come up with.”

  “I don’t know. I’m on pretty thin ice with these people as it is. It wouldn’t do for me to get caught planting bugs. Right now, I’ve got bigger problems.”

  “What if different units made certain components?” offered Dmitri.

  He thought about this a few moments. “Yeah, then it would really be the legion’s rifle, the whole legion.” Denver contemplated this while Dmitri poured him another drink.

  “I’d better knock it off after this one and get back.”

  “Yes, wouldn’t want them to catch you drunk on duty,” Dmitri added with a laugh.

  By the time Denver got back, he had a rough idea shaped up in his mind. Various units could detail the more mechanically inclined to build components. He would have to pry some equipment from Dmitri’s clinched fingers, or maybe the Captain Nemo Clan could supply the equipment needed.

  Ammo, that was another matter. Denver thought it still might be easier to bring it up from Earth. Now that the U.S. government had outlawed its manufacture, except for their needs of course, there was a thriving black market smuggling ammo into the U.S. though some preferred to roll their own.

  Cut out the Trups; send in our own people to get it. People he could trust, people he wanted to see become officers. If he could tie these things together, he would have company commanders from Earth. That is what was needed. Now, how to go about it?

  It struck him as odd, but he was beginning to think like a general. Well someone had to; the Captain Nemo crowd was great with their technology, even though they promised more than they could deliver. Not really their fault. They had evolved from seagoing people with completely different mindsets.

  * * * *

  “Okay, what you got?” queried Fitzpatrick.

  Smith removed the rifles from their covers and set them on the table. He and his team sat down.

  The Commander raised his eyebrows when he saw them. “Let me see,” and he reached across and took the weapon Smith handed him.

  It struck Fitz as somewhat primitive, lighter than he had expected. He pulled the operating handle back to clear the chamber; Smith had taught him the rudiments of safe weapons handling.

  Whenever someone hands you a weapon, be mindful of where you point the muzzle and clear the weapon, Denver had said. He looked it over carefully. He took the other and went over it as well.

  “This one takes the smaller round?” he asked.

  “Yes sir, the .308.”

  “I don’t see much difference.”

  “Primarily, it’s chambered differently to accept the correct cartridge.”

  “What about the kick?”

  “There is a system to reduce the kick.”

  Fitz looked at Lieutenant de la Fuentes and asked, “Have you fired it yet?”

  “No sir,” she replied.

  “Okay, I’ll set up a time at, the range to test fire these weapons.” He tapped his communicator and in a couple of minutes, he had an appointment for his unit to use an active range.

  “Bring your whole team along; I’ll need a report from each of you on what you think about the weapon. I insist on brutal honesty. Now, what about reliability?”

  Smith brought him up to date on how the weapon had been covered with dirt and left for a time then taken out and fired. It also fired without a hitch after being submerged in water. He could see that there were no signs of rust.

  Fitz locked the bolt back, took out a small flashlight and put it to the chamber. He then looked down the barrel; it was not clean. Good, now he could see how well it worked.

  “Okay, Fitz began, “let’s say your rifle works; can your man produce them in numbers?”

  Smith thought about how Dmitri might respond to being called “your man” but forced it from his mind. “No, not really.”

  “Didn’t think so. I’m amazed he was able to produce two of this quality. I was expecting something quite different, but I guess our people ca
n produce them.”

  “Sir, I have a proposal.”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t mean to be impertinent, but …”

  “When you start off that way, you usually are,” interjected Fitz smiling broadly.

  Denver broke into a broad smile. “It’s not intentional.”

  “I know; what have you got on your mind?”

  “Well sir, the legionnaires are painfully aware that the navy has promised incredible technology and has not delivered. I understand that this is part and parcel to how you guys do research and development, but we don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Your point is well taken, what do you propose to do about it?” asked Fitz.

  “I propose giving Dmitri the materials he needs to construct the equipment to build the individual components of the rifle. We then task different units with the responsibility to make each component. Other units will build the subgroups such as the trigger housing group, the receiver, whatever, and then another will assemble and test it. You see, this way it is the legion’s assault rifle, designed and built by them. Everyone will have a personal stake in it.

  “Not to mention, we are in a bit of a lull in the fighting, and it’s not a good idea to have the men just sitting around. This will give them something to do.”

  “Yes, I’m seeing reports of discipline problems. That might help me sell it to the brass. As for this lull in the fighting, there has been action along our perimeter. It seems the enemy is penetrating deeper than they have ever tried before, skipping entire star systems. Intel is not sure what they’re up to, but there have been some pitched battles in space. Tactics we worked out during the alien rescue mission have been making a difference. Nothing for you guys yet.”

  Denver thought about it. “Wonder what they’re up to?”

  “Hard to say,” responded Fitz.

  Something about the tactic seemed familiar, though. Denver pushed it from his mind.

  “What have they come up with when it comes to entry and landing?” inquired Smith.

  Fitz looked away for a moment. “They have been working on it, but up to this point, it’s secret.”

  “So secret they can’t even tell officers in Intel?”

  “They’re still terrified over the attack on the training base.”

  “What does that have to do with us?”

  “What indeed?” Fitz appeared to mentally leave the meeting for a moment.

  He continued, “I guess you don’t need me to tell you that the brass does not entirely trust the legion.”

  “Do I ever, but what’s that got to do with us? Wait a second; they don’t blame the attack on the base on the legion, do they?”

  “Some people have very suspicious minds,” said Fitz.

  “How, and for that matter, why? How could any of us get in touch with lizards? You people have controlled our every move since leaving Earth.”

  “Calm down, I’m just as incredulous as you. I don’t think it could happen, but our peoples have been apart for a long time. That’s going to take time to heal.”

  “Who’s working on the healing?”

  “A good question; I don’t know if anyone is.”

  “Well maybe someone should. If we don’t start fighting on the same side, we’re not going to make it.

  “That brings up something else sir, actually a couple of things. You were able to get some ammo; how about enough to fight this war?” Denver asked.

  “Not with what I have so far. I had to get someone back at the recruiting center to go buy it for me, which made him suspicious. What do you have?”

  “Well, I would like to see some of our best legionnaires be assigned to a special unit to get the ammunition. Then after watching each operative very closely, promote as many as we need or find advisable to the company commander.”

  “Don’t think the brass will buy that. One of the selling points was that we would assign specially trained officers from our people to command the legion. Now many of your people have been promoted to NCO.”

  “Those people are good but the senior ones, the ones with prior military experience, are mostly assigned to training. Sir, all we have gotten from our company commanders are constant put-downs. They’ve made it pretty clear that we are undesirables. They are contemptuous in everything they do. They disappear on off days, and we don’t see them till we are called back on duty. They are not part of the legion, and they are not even trying to be.”

  Smith added, “This is only going to get worse till something goes really wrong, and then the people who didn’t want the legion in the first place will say, I told you so.”

  “Company commanders,” Fitz mused aloud. “I don’t think I can sell it up front, but if these people who were acquiring munitions could be …” He thought for a moment.

  “We already have a pretty good idea who the best most adaptable people are. Let me check the records.”

  Fitz did so working in silence for a few minutes. “It appears the top ten percent have already been promoted to squad leader and platoon sergeant. We need to work out the details, but I will ask. When they refuse, I’ll argue for the platoon sergeants to be promoted to Lieutenant. Later this cadre will form the basis of what will become our company commanders.”

  “Might work at that,” mused Smith.

  Suddenly Denver remembered; it was the island hopping through the Pacific during the Second World War. “About their skipping some systems and penetrating deeper, I’ve seen a similar tactic before.”

  He quickly briefed his boss on what he remembered of things he had learned as a kid concerning that war.

  “But how would that help them; I don’t get it?”

  “I’m not sure either; possibly it’s easier than conquering every star system. Perhaps they can only occupy so many planets at a time or need certain resources. Maybe they’re trying to draw the legion into a pitched battle, and then finish us off.”

  “Well, they can’t deny us access to any system. Let’s get to the range now. You and your team work on this tonight and give me something to go forward with in the morning,” said Fitz.

  Chapter 24: Attack of the Legion

  Hard experience had taught them that unit sized atmospheric entry and landing craft were just too vulnerable. Someone had decided the smaller the landing craft, the better. That is how the Atmospheric Tactical Assault Craft had been envisioned.

  It was really quite simple; depressurize before deployment. This made depressurization from a blast less traumatic and made certain each man’s pressure suit was functioning properly.

  The blunt, round, cone-shaped entry vehicle could carry a squad. It was automatic, but one man trained to fly it should it become necessary. The center of gravity was offset so that the vehicle could actually create some lift.

  Once in the atmosphere and slowed up enough; simply eject, take up the position, and fly the rest of the way to the landing zone in your flying squirrel pressure suit. Pull the chute when you were low enough, but not too low or too high. Speed was life until you hit something solid like a planet.

  Tactics were simple. Lead off with dummy landers, mark where the anti-landing craft guns were, then send in tiny support fighters over the pole to take them out. Drop in the ATACs and once the LZ was secured bring in the rest of the troops. The ATACs actually had two other functions; they gave any remaining gunners something to shoot at and gave a false idea of where the legion was landing. The modified pressure suit now had a layer of radar absorbing material on the outside and contained a layer, which blocked most of the soldier’s IR signature.

  This way they could quickly get a battalion of men on the ground to secure the landing site. The heavy guns and trucks could be brought in next with their crews. Finally, the engineers and the rest of the infantry were brought in. At least, that was the idea.

  Given what
they knew of the enemy, all the legion would have to do is land on a lizard held planet, and they would come swarming out. Land, set up a perimeter, dig in, and let them come to you, seemed simple enough.

  Now that all hope of a super suit had been dropped by the legion, proper equipment had been designed and built. Lieutenant Commander Fitzpatrick’s group at Intel had rewritten the rules. The legion built their own assault rifles, each unit supplying parts made with machines provided by Dmitri. The .30-06 version was for front line troops; the .308 version for support troops. The Separatists produced composite helmets that would stop a .30-06 along with light but effective body armor. One legion unit had been detailed to the Separatists to acquire black market ammo from Earth.

  This assignment had tested their loyalty to the legion, their ability to operate without supervision, and their resourcefulness. These men had been promoted to lieutenant. With the new platoon leaders to help the Separatist company commanders, the legion was ready.

  After the lizards had thrown everything they had at the legion, the attack aircraft would destroy the lizard base. Then the legion would vacate the planet leaving the enemy swatting at phantoms.

  No one had ever tried it in actual combat, until now. The fleet dropped back into real space. First, the enemy was bombarded from orbit; priority was given to targets that had the electromagnetic signature of pulse weapon sites. Then the drop craft quickly took up orbit and dropped off the first battalion. Fortunately, they also dropped off dummies. Others carried heavy weapons and ammo. Some carried water or medical supplies. These would automatically maneuver to where the men had landed and then deploy their chutes.

  They also made great targets. Therefore, the legion also dropped a tremendous amount of chaff. Enemy gunners would have a hard time determining which were real targets.

  This world had a light gravity, only a bit more than Mars. It had an oxygen atmosphere but no magnetic field. Sadly, it would not keep its atmosphere; its star would knock it off bit by bit. Already the use of supplemental oxygen would be required during strenuous activity.

  The lizards had pushed farther out into the spiral arm and deep into Grey territory. Here they set up a large base. Intel had suspected they were getting ready for a really big effort which might end the war.