by E. G. Castle
With a gesture, the captain did just that, sending his team forward along with their Marine reinforcements. Carefully though, as the current mission was being run at night.
Trudging on, Frank wished now that he hadn’t decided to come along. He had forgotten how hard it was make battlesuits maneuver properly at night, when the power was off.
Still, nothing to be done about it now.
“Camp ahead, ‘bout a mile!” a scout quietly called out.
Frank considered his mental map. Right, they must be almost over the hill now. The pirate camp should be… on the right.
As he hauled himself over the top of the hill’s ‘peak’, Frank glanced towards where he thought the pirates would be. It took another couple of moments of scanning around though, before he located them.
“Move it!” a guerrilla sergeant hissed at him, probably thinking he was just another Marine.
Without saying anything, Frank did as he was told.
Now that they were within a mile of their target, the guerrilla team was moving slowly and cautiously, though the dark night meant that they had been going slow in the first place.
“Sir?” came softly whispered over the com.
“Yes?” the lieutenant replied, equally muted.
“I think they’ve spotted us.”
Frank frowned. The Marines had been rotating sensor duty, leaving one of the battlesuits’ sensors on while the others stayed off.
For a moment, the lieutenant wished it was his turn, or that he could turn on his own sensors for a quick check. But he’d have to make the decision without that.
“How likely?” he quietly snapped.
“Fairly sure, sir. Can’t imagine why else they’d be moving around like that.”
“Damn. All right.” Moving faster, though still being as careful as he could, Frank made his way over to the guerrilla team’s captain.
“They’ve spotted us.” Frank informed him.
The man swore, than made a few frantic gestures. Immediately, the entire group sped up. Mentally cursing, Frank did his best to keep up; not an easy task in the dark and while wearing a heavy, encumbering, unpowered battlesuit.
***
“I’m tellin’ you, I’m sure they spotted something!”
“Yeah, sure. And where is that something?”
The pirate commander was feeling grumpy, most unhappy at having been awoken for what was apparently nothing.
“Look, I’ll rerun it for you- See? Right there!”
The other rolled his eyes, and turned around.
“The sensors blipped. So what? It’s probably just them malfunctioning; wouldn’t be unusual. No reason for you to hit the alarm.”
“But the guerrillas-”
“What, want to fight in this?” The pirate waved his hand eloquently at the deep darkness.
“Nah, only you are stupid enough to want that.” The pirate on sensor duty flushed.
“But-” he began to protest again.
The commander made a rude noise, cutting him off.
“Alright, I’m going back to sleep. Head to your beds everyone! It was just ol’ jumpy Jaspers again.” There were a few murmurs, not everyone as sure as he was.
“Unless somebody wants to go and check it out?” he continued with a slightly menacing air.
Though the pirates had been alarmed when the siren had called them from their beds, the commander’s words had soothed them enough for them to want head back to ‘em, not checking out some, probably worthless, sensor hit.
Some yawning, they turned back to their barracks.
It was at that point when the alarm sounded again.
“Jaspers, you wanna be shot!?” the pirate commander growled, hand dropping to his gun, spinning around.
“Look!” was all the other said, triumphantly, as a speck of red contacts appeared and disappeared on the screen.
“Oh shit.”
***
Near noiselessly, aside from a few thuds and thumps, the team made its way towards the pirate encampment, moving as fast as they were able.
Twelve minutes ‘til they reached it, then nine, then seven, then…
KRAACCkkk-BOOOM
“MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!” a guerrilla called, as the sound of the missile’s explosion began to fade. Another one was already being launched by the pirates, though this one to a different location.
“Can he continue?” the team leader snapped.
“He’s hit in the leg; badly!” another replied, leaning down towards his fallen comrade. A red glare lit up the scene, as the second missile exploded nearby.
“Dammit. All right, bandage him, then leave him.” Before anyone could protest, he preempted them.
“No arguments! We’ve got to keep moving! Lieutenant Harsmith, take your men ahead and try to keep the pirates busy ‘til we arrive!”
The lieutenant saluted, and, activating his suit, surged forward with the other Marines.
To the fallen soldier, the team captain said, “You’re going to have to stay here. We’ll pick you up when we head back, okay, Jimmy?” Left unsaid was the qualifier, ‘If we make it back’.
“Y-yeah. I’ll be waiting,” the other whispered, trying to hide his pain as he was bandaged.
With a short nod, the team captain headed forward, his men falling in behind him, though not without a few, ignored, grumbles.
***
“Keep firing! Kill ‘em!” The pirate commander’s voice was edging towards frantic. The approaching guerrillas were making him fear for his life, something he wasn’t accustomed to be doing. The closest he usually came was making others fear for their lives.
“Everyone, get to your positions! Shoot anything you see! Stop them before they get too close!”
Their commander’s fear catching, they obeyed with a will.
***
“They’re really laying the fire down heavily, aren’t they?” one marine commented, calmly starting to line up a shot.
“Maybe they’re finally starting to take all this seriously,” Frank suggested, snapping off a quick weg bolt, which missed.
“Pftt. One.” announced the first marine, killing a pirate.
A double shot sounded out, striking through the yet dark forest.
“Two.” the third marine said laconically.
***
“Those are Marines out there!”
“Shut up!” The pirate commander was frantically trying to think, of some way, any way, of getting out of the situation he was in. Though he tried to reassure himself that his pirates were in a good position, and would be able to repulse the guerrillas, he couldn’t help but doubt it. If only there was something he could really do…
Then the fire into the camp increased greatly, far more shots than could come from three Marines.
“The guerrillas…!”
***
“Captain, we’re going ahead.”
“What?” The guerrilla sounded almost absentminded, as he aimed his rifle.
“Me and my Marines. We’re going to get up close, and see if we can’t cause enough trouble that they’ll break.”
“You know what to do best,” the captain said dispassionately, pulling the trigger twice, eying the result with scant satisfaction. “Go ahead.”
“Yessir.”
With a quick command over the com, Frank and the two Marines launched themselves into the air. Although the walk in unpowered battlesuits had been a major pain, at least it had left them plenty of power to play with.
***
Now almost gibbering, the pirate commander sent several blind shots into the forest, vaguely in the directions of the guerrillas, although too high to actually hit any.
They were stuck. Completely stuck.
The only way they could escape would be if one of their gunboats or shuttles showed up, and by the looks of things, the battle would be over before then. Were they to try to flee and hide in the forest, they would certainly be hunted down and killed by the guerrillas, who,
to his crazed and paranoiac mind, seemed to be behind every tree.
Oh, if only something would end this nightmare!
And then came the answer to his prayer.
From the heights of the night fell the three Marines, like demons, or perhaps vampires, descending onto their prey.
The pirates, already wavering, broke, as the Marines, amidst them, began striking them down with a cold, efficient skill. They scatted in all directions, shooting at anything that seemed to be a threat; themselves, on occasion.
The pirate commander himself turned to flee, taking a few steps towards a nearby shed, when a weg bolt struck him in the lower back, sending him tumbling to the floor, with his life draining away.
His last thought, as the dark night filled him, was of fleeting regret that he hadn’t shot Jaspers when he had the chance.
Chapter Eight
Another week of missions and combat passed, without the balance between the guerrillas and pirates changing much. That, however, was something the guerrillas were looking to change.
“…so I think we have a good chance, sir, to strike a hard blow.”
“And perhaps erase your previous failure, eh?”
“…Yessir.” Captain Fil'dwis said noncommittally.
“Lieutenant?”
“I’m all for it, sir. I didn’t like having to retreat either. Besides, it’s one of the only places left where we can really hurt them.”
“True…” The general drummed his fingers on the table.
“All right,” he finally said. “I think it’s probably the best target we could go for. However, it’s going to take a major attack, as we know they’ve reinforced heavily. Aside from a gunboat, they also have nearly four hundred troops. In which case…” He considered, then nodded.
“Fil’dwis, I’m putting you in charge of the operation. You’re promoted to major, and being given the acting rank of colonel. Succeed, and the acting rank’s permanent.”
The new major, and prospective colonel, was stunned.
“But, I-” Frank elbowed him slightly. With a gulp, Tom managed to recover somewhat.
“I mean, thank you, sir!”
“Been meaning to promote you anyway,” the general grunted. “All right. I’ll assign you the men you’ll need to accomplish the mission. Lieutenant, I think it’s best,” he said reluctantly, by now aware how invaluable the Marines and their battlesuits were. “-that you assign two squads to go along.”
“Yes, sir.” Frank hesitated a moment before continuing. “…I would like to participate as well.”
“No, lieutenant.”
“Why not, general?” Frank asked, slightly annoyed.
“Because we need this attack to succeed-”
“So?”
“-Which means I want your platoon sergeant commanding your Marines. And since your second-in-command is going, you need to stay here.”
“…I see, sir.” Behind his mask of a face, Frank seethed. Okay, yes, McKain had seven or eight times his experience, and was probably the better choice, but still!
Although he knew he was being over-sensitive, Frank found he rather wished the general had put it a bit more subtly.
Captain –no, Major, Acting Colonel Fil’dwis glanced at him with an expression of sympathy, but a moment later his face returned to a neutral expression.
“Lieutenant, Colonel, you are dismissed.”
“Sir.”
“Yes, sir.” Both offering a salute, the two officers left the planning room.
Outside, Tom offered, “I would have liked to have you along.”
“And I, to come. But the general’s right,” the lieutenant admitted grudgingly. “McKain’ll do a better job.”
The major kept silent, unable to really disagree.
Frank to a deep breath.
“All right. I don’t know when you’re going to get the troops the general promised you, but I’ll have Sergeant Javer and Sergeant Von Hervitz report to you immediately. As well as Sergeant McKain.”
“Javer? I don’t know if I’m really going to need the… scout squad.” Tom had to think a moment before recalling the designation for the squad, the Kzarch military not having the concept.
“Maybe, but I think, considering how large your force is going to be, that you’ll want some good scouts. Still… tell you what, I’ll have half of one of the regular squads assigned to him, in exchange for half of his squad. That do?”
“Works for me. Javer may not be happy about it though.”
“Probably,” allowed Frank. “Okay, I’ll have them sent over. You’re still working out of Fifth Building?” The naming in the guerrilla camp had been very basic.
“Yeah. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
With a nod at each other, the two separated.
***
Everyone was celebrating. The mission had been successfully run, with the complete destruction of one of the pirate’s main compounds, as well as a gunboat and several hundred pirates.
Not that the guerrillas had gotten off scot-free. Nearly eighty had died, another fifty had been injured bad enough to require serious medical care, and two Marines had been killed, plus a third with ruined armor.
The victory had cost, but it was worth it.
In the planning room, the various commanders of the guerrilla forces were congratulating Colonel Fil’dwis.
“Well done, Colonel.”
“Wish I had been with you.”
“You should’ve been more careful; you lost too many men,” one grouched. Well, there were always critics.
“I would have preferred not to-” Tom began, a slight heat evident, but General Val’gor interrupted.
“Enough! Mal’vin, I’m sure Fil’dwis did his best. Fil’dwis, good job. Now, all of you, pay attention! We need to plan our next move. Lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir.” While the supply compound mission had been carried out, he and the general had been working on their next move; as well as what the pirates were likely to do in reaction to the strike.
“As you can see on this map of Newholm and surrounding environs, where the pirates are based, we’ve been steadily wearing away at them. Here,” the lieutenant pointed at a location with a large red ‘x’, “-is where the former supply compound was. With its destruction, they lost a large amount of their supplies and one of their most important bases. So, in the expectation that the pirates will try to strike back; we have put the defenses here in the camp on high alert.”
There were general murmurs of approval.
Ignoring them, Frank continued, “However, it is our hope and preference not to stand on the defense. To that end, General Val’gor, has devised a plan. General?”
Juan placed his finger on the map of Newholm, placing it on top of the star that marked the governor’s mansion.
“As you know, this is the pirates’ main base of operations, and where most of them are encamped.” This had surprised Frank when he first heard about it, as he hardly thought a governor’s mansion and lands could hold several thousand pirates, but it turned out the governor’s mansion was far closer in size and design to a castle, with a vast area of private and secure land around it.
“Further, this is where their ships are landed. They’re currently at the air-strip near the governor’s mansion, just a half mile away. If we could take all this out, despite the difficulties involved, the war would be pretty much over.” There was a moment of singing tension.
“But that’s not our aim, at this point.”
At least two of the commanders failed to hide expressions of relief.
“The idea is to feint at the mansion, then head here.” The general’s finger shifted to the side. “One of their remaining supply compounds, close to the governor’s mansion for extra protection. Which won’t help it in this case.” He gave a bloodthirsty smile, that was returned by many of the commanders.
“We have two objectives for this mission. One, quite obviously, is to destroy the supply compound. The othe
r, is to get information on what exactly they have defending the governor’s mansion, and how they’ll use it.”
“We’re not planning on launching the strike just now; and, in fact, probably won’t try for it for another week. But this one’s going to take a lot of troops, probably a thousand or so in total, and a considerable amount of planning before we can try it. Any questions?”
“Who’s going to lead the mission?” one commander asked. General Juan rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a second, scanning the faces before him. Some were hopeful, others neutral. Then he smiled.
“Actually, I intend to take personal command of it.” There was an instant of sudden silence. Then the room erupted.
“Sir, you can’t-”
“But, general!”
“General, isn’t it-”
“SILENCE!” The room quieted.
“I have chosen to put myself in command, because this is going to be one of the most important campaigns we have run. Further, the testing of the governor’s mansion is best overseen by me, considering I know the land best, and how its former defenses had been laid out. Not to mention, I’m going to need the best, most direct information on the mansion’s defenses, so I can plan how we intend to attack it, and finally rid ourselves of the pirates!”
“Yes, b-”
“No. This may well be our second to last mission. If we complete it successfully, and gain the information on the governor’s mansion defenses, we may well be then in the position to take it out. I need to go. Is that clear?” It was a growled out inquiry, which wasn’t really a question, only demanding obedience.
“Yes, sir!” came back to him, a rumble from around the room.
“Good. Any other questions?”
There were, mostly about what forces would be assigned, exactly how many, what information the general had on the supply compound and the governor’s mansion, etc.
While General Val’gor was dealing with it all, Lieutenant Harsmith wandered over to Sergeant McKain, who had been standing quietly, listening.