Raiders

by Malone, Stephan

  “Okay so six thousand Raiders left per Gate. Now what happens?” Berg asked.

  “The Gates will be breached but only after some time and effort on their part. But the Gates were never engineered to hold off so many at once so they will mechanically fail after one hour to three hours, I estimate,” Venusia said.

  “Okay so now they’re inside the City. Everybody following this?” Berg yelled out to the room. Everyone nodded and responded in the affirmative. “Now it’s up to the batteries and troops, right?”

  Venusia expanded the City hologram so only one Gate and its ingress was rendered. “Yes General. The Raiders will overwhelm the batteries after about ten minutes. The supplemental troops will have to fall back or fight, but by then there will only be between five hundred to a thousand surviving Raiders per Gate.”

  “Five hundred. Okay. Continue, and remember everyone, this is only a best guess emulation!” General Berg said.

  The holograph display of the City disappeared and then Venusia and her sister reappeared over the tabletop. “After the final stand the remaining Raiders will have to be engaged by the Citizens.” Venusia looked to her sister.

  Veliosa took a deep breath of air she couldn’t possibly inhale and said, “The ratio will be two Raiders to one Citizen. While this sounds statistically good it actually isn’t.”

  “Because?” Berg asked.

  “Because General, they are not trained soldiers. They are ordinary people. Remember, three weeks ago most have never thought about shooting a gun.” Veliosa looked straight to the General, paused and then said, “It is one thing to pick up a gun but pulling the trigger against another human is something else entirely. But you already know this to be true, sir,” she explained.

  General Berg smiled at Veliosa and said, “Yes, yes I do.” He stood up and addressed the room. “This is the basic logistical framework we are going to go with, people. We will tweak some of the minor details and add a Gantry to the City Center. Can you make that happen, Veliosa?”

  Veliosa said, “Yes. I have now ordered the Gantry components to be fabricated. It will be fully assembled and railed in two days. Battle-ready in three.”

  “Outstanding. Okay any questions folks? Now’s the time to ask.” A quarter of the room raised their hands.

  Seventeen

  And then they came. The Raiders the approached Polar City Three’s protective Wall from all directions. They surrounded the City even from the waterside North, a thick and necklaced ring all-human.

  Cautious and still they quietly stood in formation, just beyond the auto-cannons hittable range or about three-quarters of a kilometer away. They had drones too, an unexpected surprise for the Polar City’s Intelligence team.

  “Don’t know sir but they got ’em!” Sergeant Matthew reported. “Damn things are drawin’ a line ‘round the City so they know when to stop marchin’! Auto-guns can’t get at ‘em!”

  “Thank you Sergeant,” General Berg said into his radio. “They're probably gonna take down a few of the cannons from a distance like Venusia predicted.”

  Venusia cut in while she produced her transparent two meter tall avatar next to the General in the Command and Control room. “Yes they will. It is the only option they have even at these numbers.” She looked across the pano-vis screens. There was no need for her to observe the video since her holographic eyes were merely for show. But then again Venusia insisted that she present herself as an actual person to them.

  The General sighed. “Gonna have to engage ‘em manually Sarge. Send your shield units forward in an arc to protect the squads behind 'em. Well send out a couple of drones to keep ‘em occupied. Got it?”

  “Copied sir. Okay.” Sergeant Matthew said. “When they engage us though? I only have five hundred men out here on the line!”

  “The plan is you kick the beehive so to speak and then fall back. We’re gonna kite them in. Otherwise they’re gonna knock down the turrets,” The General responded.

  Sergeant Matthew yelled out with his radio key still opened. “Alright you heard the old man! Shieldmen! One through twenty! Formation five now! Infantry sixtee…” General Berg shut off the radio channel.

  Venusia said, “Switching pano-vis to drone seven now, General. Right ahead of the kiting team.” The screens which surrounded Command and Control showed a viewpoint about one hundred meters high. It faced the Raiders head on. “Enemy now preparing to fire at auto-turret twelve sir!” The drone zoomed three of the forward screens to get a close-up shot of the Raiders. It showed about two hundred Raiders or so all armed with Coilguns, ready.

  General Berg keyed the radio back on. “Sarge how close are you?”

  “Two hundred! We’re hoofin it! Standby sir!” The Sergeant was out of breath. Two minutes later, “Hold here! Hit em now boys!” He yelled. A massive volley of Coilrounds shot over their heads. Thousands of rounds traveled to the auto-turret behind them with a shrills and shocks as if the Coilrounds carried a black mange spirit maligned and possessed.

  The pano-vis showed the Kiting team from the rear screens as they shot against the Raiders from a distance. A few Raiders were hit and collapsed into their crowded line but the ominous stream of Coilrounds continued without diminish. The Raiders ignored the Polar City soldiers altogether and continued to focus on their singular objective.

  “They’re not takin’ the bait sir!” Sergeant Matthew yelled into his radio integrated into his facial combat band. The Raiders stopped their assault upon the distant auto-turret. A Raider dressed in a battlesuit similar to Kama’s stood in front of the mob and waved her hands. She waved toward the Sergeant and his men although she was too far away to be heard. The message was clear, though. The Raiders focused their Coilguns against the Sergeant and his Kiting team but did not advance. Not so much as a single step closer to the City Wall.

  “Matthew get your men outta there! NOW!” A redfaced General Berg cholerically ordered into his radio.

  The Sergeant did not respond and his bodyworn radio went dead as a sheet of Coilrounds plowed into his team all at once. The forward Shieldmen shuddered and fell as their defenses were rendered down to a leveled discordance. A monitor drone hovered fifty meters above them as it and focused its pano-vis camera on the soldiers who ran in fast retreat. As the Sergeant fell back the Raiders ceased their fire on the luck-blessed few who remained alive while they ran for their lives.

  “They stopped!” General Berg looked at Venusia.

  “Yes they are just saving their ammunition,” Venusia responded while she continued to observe the pano-vis. “They will probably start working on the auto-turret again in a few moments,” she added. Even as she said that a splayed cloud of Coilrounds resumed its angered breath over the Sergeant’s head and what remained of his men. They fell back to the Wall and the auto-turrets' protective umbrella.

  The General ripped his theatre goggles from his head and tossed them onto a wall desk in anger. “Goddammit!” He yelled and turned around. All seventy-four soldiers stopped what they were doing and looked at Berg in astonishment. “Any thoughts folks? Because now is the time!”

  For a moment silence covered the large situation room, console beeps and blips excepted. A single hand raised up from the room’s southeast corner. “Uh General sir, we were talkin’ back here in Logistics about the possibility of…” Lieutenant Lange nervously stalled his speech upon the realization that everyone focused on him.

  “Yes Lieutenant. Go ahead son,” General Berg said.

  “Well sir the Raiders are holding out of range so the auto-turret can’t engage ‘em, but.” He looked to his peers who sat next to him. “We could try lobbing some rounds at ‘em sir. I mean, we know the guns weren’t designed for that but we think we could make it work.”

  “Great! Good work guys, hash it out fast and when you’re done forward your plan to Tactical team. They can dial the turrets in.” Berg looked over to the Tactical table and they all nodded in approval of the plan.

  Lieutenant Lang
e added, “Sir one thing though. We’re gonna burn through a helluva lot of ammo so when they finally get close there won’t be a whole lotta rounds left!”

  “We’ll just have to deal with that Lieutenant,” the General said. “Better we knock some of them down than none at all. We’re gonna lose the turrets anyways. So we may as well get some mileage out of them!”

  Ten minutes passed and after a flurry of calculations and intelligent guesses the Logistics team circled the Tactical Table and coached them on how to manually set the auto-turret. The monster guns were designed to operate and engage an outside threat automatically without much input. The Logistics men and women decided on using a maintenance mode exploit so they could set the barrels by hand. The Tactical lead Officer announced, “We think we got it sir! Venusia can you verify our calculations?”

  Venusia glowed as she announced. “Projected rounds set to engage the Raider line, sir.”

  “Good, do it guys! Fire at will!” General Berg said.

  “Autocannons perimetric to twelve and thirteen firing now,” Venusia said. She closed her holographic eyes, a strange choice of emotica for a Greater Assistant. A low pitched thrrummmm vibrated throughout the City followed by a muffled fang-rattled ka-blooof. Her eyes opened. “First rounds hit. Estimated casualties zero point seven percent for that group.”

  “Excellent work everyone!” Berg said then looked at Venusia’s avatar. “What about the other cannons? Can you run them?”

  Venusia’s hologram froze for a second almost as if she internally glitched. “General my cores will be peaked however I can control half of them. Speculative.”

  “Ask your sister to help then,” Berg said.

  Before he could finish the word then Veliosa shimmered into being to the right of Venusia. “Very well General.” Tiny misted blue strands floated between the sister Assistants. “We will be occupied with the cannons so we will not be available for a few moments.” The two holographs winked out of render.

  “All Cannons dialled out!” A voice announced from somewhere in the room. Lieutenant Lange. The situation room resonated with the sustained engagements. Tthhhruuummm, ka-bloof, tthhhruuuummmm, ka-bloof. The Polar City was deep underground but the auto-turret sounds traveled through the rock and shook its contents even down to the lower levels. Various video feeds from the drones outside were fed into every screen, even the smaller ones.

  The Raiders continued their assault against the auto-turrets even while their fellowmen were pummeled to their death only meters away. The ordnance volleyed into view almost as if some giant unseen hand tossed them onto the massive Raider rings.

  “Three percent down sir!” An unidentified voice said from somewhere within the room. “Three point nine sir!”

  General Berg waved and then resumed his observation of the tactical map and the visual feeds from the drones. The Raiders were clearly resolved to continue. A large fifty centimeter shell, one of the auto-turret rounds skidded into the dirt and exploded. It kicked up so much smoke and dust the air drones could hardly visualize the battle scene, even in the infrared. The Raiders ignored the drones altogether. They probably did not care who watched them nor with what apparatus simply because they believed in their hearts that it didn’t matter. The City would be theirs anyways, and quite soon.

  “How many guns are left?” Berg asked loudly against the sonic assault. Ttthhhrrruuummmm. Ka-bloof.

  “Down to ten sir!” An unidentified voice announced.

  “Damn,” The General whispered to himself. Ttthhhrrruuuummm.. Ka-bloof. The sounds were fewer now, diminished but not altogether gone.

  “Sir two guns left!” A short pause. “One gun sir! Northeast forty-two!” Two more reports vibrated through the room, then nothing. An acidified silence overtook the entire City as the last auto-turret went down. “All guns compromised sir! Enemy advancing!”

  “Percentage Lieutenant!” Berg asked.

  “Twelve point five!” The auto-turrets had killed just under thirteen percent of the Raiders, eighty-seven percent remained alive.

  “Shit,” the General muttered as he lowered his head. “Squad control! Everyone to the gates and pull in! Spread ‘em out standard vee-flank! Three by three! Gantry control! Go live! Now! Fire control! Get the one-thirty-fours spun up to engage!”

  The room broke into chaotic frenzy. The Control team leaders all shouted commands and directives into their microphones built into their battle goggles. “Foxtrot two-two! Ready seven and engage at will! Fallback to sawtooth formation if compromised! No prejudice!” To an outsider these commands meant little but to the soldiers these were as commongrey as a pregnant cloud on any given day, mother of the new rain.

  Venusia and Veliosa flickered into being only this time at opposite ends of the large table in the room’s center. Veliosa said, “I am sending out messages to all Citizens to stand ready.”

  Venusia said, “Gantry control responds ready! All gates standing by. Core tactical standing by. All lines ready, seven-two-seven, sir!” There was a slight desperation in her tone, another anomalous affectation for a Greater Assistant.

  The General popped a piece of chewing gum into his mouth and said, “Thank you. Everyone ready! First breach estimate?”

  Venusia started to speak, “Breach will probably be Gate Six, nine..” but was interrupted by her Assistant twin.

  Veliosa said, “Sir, Gate Four will go first. We were in the process of maintenance on that particular Gate and it’s not done yet.”

  “Is there any way the Raiders can determine that from the outside?” General Berg asked as he slowly chewed, his focus on the twin holograms, the illuminescent sisters.

  Venusia said, “No, cosmetically the Gate appears the same from all inbound vectors.”

  “Good, good.” At once a large wireframe of the Polar City’s border floated over the situation room’s center table. The Gates themselves were highlighted with a brighter trace than the rest of the City and they all glowed a confident green. The recon drones remained alive to feed in videos of the scene outside.

  And then all the Gates on the outlined trace flicked from a calm green to a blink-steady yellow. “All Gates being engaged now sir!” Someone from Logistics yelled forth. “Coilguns! No heavies detected!”

  “How close are they on average?” Berg asked.

  “Varies by Gate sir but, hang on. About thirty meters give or take sir!” he said.

  The General said, “Okay flip up the one-thirty-fours!” Berg looked across the room. “Whose the leader at Gate Four?”

  “Sergeant Raige sir,” someone responded.

  “Venusia! Raise the Sergeant for me please,” Berg asked.

  Two high pitched bleeps sounded from the General’s battle goggles and then a voice. “This is Raige! Go ahead!” His voice carried just above what sounded like a flurry of pellets shot against a wall of tinned metal.

  “Sergeant what’s your status? How’s it lookin'?” Berg said.

  “Well sir all my men are ready,” he said above the sounds. Tink-tink-tink-tink-thunk-tink-thunk. “They’re nibbling down the Gate with those damn Coilguns. It’s holding though sir.”

  “Okay Sergeant we’re bringing the one-thirty-fours online! Be ready,” Berg responded.

  Sergeant Raige said, “Awesome General! That’ll take a bite outta their asses!” He shut off his communicator and waved to his troops who stood ready and alive, just inside of the massive edifice of Gate Four’s main doorway. He cupped his ears to silently signal everyone to put on their hearing protection. The floor plates flipped and revealed two banks of mini-guns, three abreast, descendants of the original General Electric M134 minis. They were old weapons, but reliable. The Raiders just outside the City Gate paused their fire at the sight of the menace guns that simply emerged from nowhere.

  Two seconds passed as the mini guns locked themselves down. Venusia raised her blueglowed hand and calmly said, “One-thirty-fours loud,” and then lowered it to her side.

  Gate Fou
r resonated against the incredible firepower. Saturated with vibratoed recoils, the front line Raiders fell into pulped piles before they even knew what hit them. Zzzzzzzzzzzttttthhhh, pppzzzzzzzztthhh, the mini-guns swept and mowed their way cross just as fast as their six-barreled armatures could be pivoted by the internalized servo-hydraulic mounts.

  Piles of dead Raiders were pushed back against more of the dead as the minis sustained their assault. It wasn’t until the piles of dead were five or six deep before the rearmost Raiders ducked behind them as newly born shield fodder.

  “Sir the minis are tearin’ 'em ‘part out there!” Sergeant Raige yelled into his battle goggles. “Few more minutes of this shit and I think this little party’s gonna be over!”

  “Thank you Sergeant, stand ready,” The General responded. “Okay where are we now? Update!” Berg appeared red faced and sweaty.

  “Looks like the minis took ‘em down to about forty five percent! The survivors are hiding behind their dead sir!” A voice from Tactical Division.

  “Can the minis hit them through their dead or not?” Berg asked.

  “No sir they’re too damn thick now! The mini-gun rounds are just sinking into the casualties at this point!”

  “Venusia, simulate opening the Gates and estimate what would happen if we engaged them manually right now.”

  Venusia said, “Simulating now based on current survivability data in-state.” She paused for fifteen seconds and reported, “Simulations ran, one thousand twenty-four. Predicted success rate is still zero point zero percent.” She paused and looked at the General. “I’m sorry General there are still too many of the Raiders with Coilguns.”

  “Okay,” Berg said. “Can we see what the hell they are doing now from any of the drones?”