by Ava D. Dohn
The battle for the Silk Mountain Range had been raging through the night and well into the morning. Twice, the enemy had overrun the first line of defenses, forcing HillLander and CraSandar’s companies to withdraw to Rock Company’s line. Twice, with Rock Company’s assistance, along with a handful of Marines, they had retaken the entrenchments.
Hand-to-hand combat was intense. Alba’s rifle was shattered warding off the violent blow of an attacker, knocking her off her feet. She was saved when Kfir stove in the assailant’s skull with a broken drive shaft from a bombed-out truck. Many of the rifle pits were so filled with corpses of both friend and foe that the defenders had taken to stacking up bodies, using them as bulwarks against the constant barrage of iron and steel.
The din of battle was beyond sound. Alba could only remember the mind-numbing pain caused by the abstract roar. Screams of the dying, shouting, cursing and cries for mercy from those still fighting, along with rifle, automatic weapons, and cannon fire, mingled in a nonsensical, wild symphony. There was no way anyone could give or receive orders. Everything was in a total state of chaos. A person didn’t think of strategy. You just kept killing…killing the enemy before he killed you.
People got so caught up in the action, they often became oblivious to happenings around them - or even to them. One private standing next to Alba was so absorbed in the fighting, she didn’t realize her lower arm had been blown off until she couldn’t fire her gun. The woman blankly bent down, picked up her shattered arm, and stumbled toward the rear, only to be shot dead a moment later.
To add to the carnage, occasional artillery shells and missiles fell indiscriminately into the crowded defenses. Alba was knocked down once from being hit by torn body parts whirling through the air. Then it began raining again, turning the mud into thick goo, making it nearly impossible to stand.
For the third time, they were driven away from their frontline defenses. Alba and Kfir struggled up the slope, fighting as they went. The enemy pushed them to within twenty yards of their second defense line before being driven back down the hill. From her old defensive position, Alba could look away toward the river. What her eyes beheld was disheartening and foreboding.
Off to the west, fire and smoke darkened the rain-soaked landscape. The enemy had landed thousands of troopers behind the ridge of hills and had been advancing from the rear. Artillery from across the river was pummeling the flats as reinforcements were attempting to reach this side of the river to support the defenders of the Silk. Alba feared they would not succeed.
The only thing saving the defenders was the melting ice had turned to little more than broken chunks of slush. The enemy was pushing on without the use of most of the trucks and armor that had been dropped for them early that morning. Alba could see nothing moving out there except a few gravity trucks, and she was unable to tell whose side they were on. The enemy soldiers were little more than distant, dark shapes in hip deep water, moving toward her.
Alba dove into a rifle pit. She grabbed hold of what she thought was a dead soldier and started to push the corpse out of the way. The person groaned and opened her eyes. Alba stared in disbelief. The soldier had fallen dead asleep, exhausted from the fighting. Releasing the soldier, she crawled over next to Kfir.
Catching her breath as the fighting took a momentary lull, Alba lamented, “We’re low on munitions. Our people our worn out. We can’t take much more of this.” She looked back over her shoulder. “How can we take it from two directions? We’re stretched to our limit!”
Kfir countered, “They’re stretched to their limit. Remember, Capt’n, they pushed across the ice all night while we rested. They’ve been fighting uphill all morning. They’re not getting any supplies, either, and most of their personnel carriers are stuck in the mud.” He waved his arm behind him. “And those saps are sittin’ ducks for our gunships and rear guard. Besides, it won’t be long before our people cross the river and start pushin’ ‘em.”
Kfir patted Alba’s arm. “One more time, Capt’n, and we’ll drive ‘em off this hill!”
Alba stared Kfir in the eyes. She then looked up and down her lines. Her lieutenants were waiting for her to tell them what to do. A leader - that’s all they were looking for. She could see there was still plenty of fight left in them. Turning back to Kfir, Alba kissed him. “That’s in case we don’t make it...”
Alba jumped up, her dagger raised high in one hand and her lanner in the other, shouting, “Over the top! With me! Give ‘em hell!” She plunged forward and down the hill.
Hundreds of whooping, cheering soldiers scrambled out of their rifle pits and charged after her.