Forged Under Siege

by James David Victor

  Jack watched the holoimage on his wrist display. The range on the suit-mounted holodisplay was limited, but Jack knew the Chits were coming. He watched for the first indication of their arrival. He saw the blip appear at the edge of his wrist-mounted holodisplay and then, a fraction of a second later, he saw the flash across the black sky of Brecon. The Krakens were landing.

  The rhythmic pulse of his hairs standing on end and then falling as the huge cannon discharged marked the pace of the battle in orbit high above the moon. The many engine flares of the landing Hydras were an indication of the pace the ground battle was going to take. It was going to be frantic and relentless.

  The sudden appearance of the Blades overhead startled Jack. The fighters raced away from the facility toward the landing zone where the Hydras were deploying the Chitin soldiers to the moon’s surface. Silently, the Blades flank cannons and forward lasers lit up the Chitin landing zone.

  A group of Krakens raced overhead in pursuit of the Blades. Their plasma spear spitz cannons poured a relentless stream of deadly plasma bolts into the rear of the Blades.

  The Blades made their pass over the Chit landing zone, and Jack saw the demise of several Hydras, marked by the billowing fireballs as the craft were destroyed. Even though the Hydras were destroyed, he knew the soldiers on board were far from beaten. They were probably pouring forward toward their objective—the planetary defense cannon.

  Jack’s wrist-mounted holoprojector showed him the range of the oncoming soldiers. They were only a kilometer away. The blips representing the Chitin soldiers were blurred into one pulsing and seething mass. His meat suit-mounted scanners made their count of the enemy. It was recalculated moment by moment and fluctuated by dozens a second as more of the Chitin soldiers landed. But Jack was sure that the count exceeded a thousand soldiers. It was the single greatest number of Chitin soldiers Jack had ever faced.

  He pulled up his field scanner and watched the mass of soldiers pouring forward. The range finder showed they would soon be in range of the pulse rifles. Jack opened a company channel and issued his fire orders.

  “As soon as you have them in range, open fire. Make your shots accurate and put the Chits out of action before they can bring their plasma spears to the fight.”

  Jack watched the Marines in the trench ready their pulse rifles, setting the ranged firing sights, checking power levels and ammunition. The line settled as every Marine made ready. Then, at the same moment, the line lit up as each Marine fired a round at a well-chosen target.

  The initial volley of shots was soon replaced by a steady crackle of fire as the Marines fired at will. Each Marine found a target, took aim, and fired. The second line, taking cover behind the makeshift barricades, had the oncoming Chits in range a second after the trench line and opened fire in the same controlled manner. The defending Marines, fifty strong, made every shot count and the Chitin soldiers fell moment by moment.

  Jack watched the range of the rushing horde carefully. The Marines would soon switch to rapid-fire bursts when the Chits were close enough. Jack had the urge to pull up his pulse rifle and jump into the line. The Chits were coming on fast and they were being killed too slowly.

  Out of nowhere, the flight of Blades came tearing across the black sky from the right. Their cannons and lasers slashed a swath through the Chitin horde, then raced away, pursued by the Krakens.

  Jack checked his scanner’s data feed on the advancing enemy and noted with satisfaction that the Chits were taking a pounding. But the Chitin strategy was clearly to overwhelm the defenders by numbers. They did have the numbers, and soon they would be on top of the Marines.

  The change in the cadence of the pulse rifle fire informed Jack that the Chits had closed the distance and were in the rapid-fire range of the rifles. The staccato crackle was replaced by the sustained, rapid-fire bursts. Although more rounds were fired, they were less accurate. The proximity of the densely-packed Chitin horde negated the need for accuracy and practically every round fired was a hit. Jack watched the hail of pulse rifle rounds slam into the advancing, writhing wall of Chitin soldiers.

  The change in the rhythm of the pulse rifle fire to the rapid-fire burst also meant another thing. The Marines were in range of the Chitin plasma spears. The moment the realization occurred to Jack, the first volley of plasma spears slashed out toward the Marines.

  The spears fizzed across the surface of Brecon. Some fell short and slammed into the ground, throwing up clouds of dust and rock. Others went long and slammed into the smooth ground of the interior of the hangar. The random spread of plasma spear fire burned into the partially-closed main entrance door. Jack saw the composite of the door glow on the inside, each heated patch an indicator of where a plasma spear had struck on the outside.

  The Chitins’ plasma spears came on in a wild, sustained barrage, the spears scattering across the target area, and again, with the sheer volume of spears came the inevitable hit.

  A stack of equipment cases behind the trench was struck. The spear exploded and sent the stack of cases tumbling across the hangar floor. The Marines taking cover behind it fell way, scrambling for more cover as the spears sliced through the thin air around them. Some rushed for the cover of another nearby stack of boxes. One scurried forward toward the trench. Another was struck by a plasma spear, and his arm burned away.

  The injured man was flagged on Jack’s data feed. He really needed a reserve crew to gather the wounded, but he needed every pulse rifle in the fight. Jack opened a channel to the wounded Marine.

  The wailing of pain and fear filled Jack’s communicator as the channel was opened. Jack reduced the volume on the transmission and shouted his orders.

  “Let your suit deal with the damage.” Jack watched the Marine writhing on the ground, exposed in the middle of the vast entrance hangar, plasma spears slamming into the ground around him. “Do you copy, Marine? Get to cover and let the suit do its job.”

  The Marine stopped wailing, possibly a reaction to Jack’s commands or possibly as shock set in. The Marine stood and staggered about the open space until a plasma spear struck him in the back. The Marine fell. Jack’s data log recorded the first fatality of the engagement.

  The Blades came on another pass and poured fire into the advancing Chits. One Blade, its port-side flank belching fire, flipped over violently and slammed into the surface of Brecon. The fighter tumbled forward, exploding and scattering flaming debris and a huge energy pulse as the drive section erupted, killing dozens of Chits in the process.

  The Krakens came past again, pursuing the squadron of Blades, spitz cannons flashing across the black sky above Brecon.

  The Marines’ reaction to the Blade’s destruction was a renewed vigor in the pulse rifle fire. Jack checked the scanner data and was satisfied to note that the Chitins had lost half their number, but they had almost covered the distance to the main entrance.

  Jack touched his pulse rifle slung across his back. It was ready for action. The moment the Chitins reached the trench line, the Marines would fire up their electron bayonets and start slashing away at the Chits in close quarters combat. Jack somehow knew he would not leave this place without getting his hands dirty with Chitin blood and slime.

  A plasma spear sliced through the air and slammed into the wall just to the side of Jack. He pulled up his pulse rifle, set it to single-shot accuracy, and aimed. The head of a Chitin soldier, its plasma spear launcher glowing in its tentacle, appeared in Jack’s sights. Jack fired the single round. It slammed into the Chitin’s massive, smooth head. He watched through his pulse rifle sights as the creature stumbled and fell sideways, yellow and green puss oozing from its cracked shell-like skull.

  Jack selected another target and fired. Another Chitin fell to his attack. Knowing this was a futile addition to the fight, Jack stepped down from the stairway.

  “Maintain the fire,” Jack said as a sudden wave of casualty reports was logged.

  Jack marched across the hangar toward the trenc
h line. Plasma spears sliced through the air.

  Another casualty report. The dead were mounting. The injured were many. The plasma spears were tearing limbs from Marines as easily as a cruel child pulled legs off a fly. The meat suits cauterized and sealed the wounds, administered painkillers, and in some extreme cases where pain was cruel and crippling, the meat suit administered a general anesthetic.

  Jack could not afford to lose a single Marine. Even a Marine with one arm could fire a pulse rifle. He accessed the company medical protocols and adjusted them to keep as many Marines conscious and in the fight as possible.

  “All Marines. Hold them off. Give it everything, Cobra. We must not fail.” Jack brought his rifle up to his shoulder and advanced. He viewed the advancing Chitin soldiers through his pulse rifle sights and fired one well-aimed shot after another. With every step, he fired another round. He stepped, fired, re-aimed, fired. He advanced toward the trench line, plasma spears flashing around him, slamming into the ground before him, flying overhead.

  He watched as another Chitin soldier’s head exploded from his well-aimed round. He moved steadily toward the trench line. Jack noticed the Marines in the trench were firing blind, crouching for cover and firing into the advancing horde, spraying wild fire over the top of the trench. Jack cursed himself for not spotting this sooner. He opened the company channel and instructed the company.

  “Get your heads out of that ditch, Cobra. Look at what you are doing.” Jack fired another round and stepped closer to the trench line.

  Jack noticed the Marines respond and stand up.

  “Everyone in that trench. Look to the enemy and fire on them.”

  The other more reluctant Marines began to stand up. The fire from the trench immediately became more effective.

  Jack fired another round and dropped a Chitin soldier, the plasma spear launcher pointing directly at him as he viewed his target along the pulse rifle sights. He reached a barricade of piled-up maintenance equipment. A Marine was firing lefthanded, his right arm lying on the ground by his feet.

  Jack took cover as plasma spears slashed around him. Jack risked a look out toward the advancing Chitins. Plasma spears slammed into the barricade and the ground just to the sides.

  The Marine ducked back behind the barricade. He slumped to the ground. The plasma spears seemed to come at a huge rate, burning chunks out of the smooth ground of the entrance hangar.

  “I think they like you, sir,” the one-armed Marine said. “They didn’t fire at me this much before you got here.”

  Jack checked the Marine’s medical data. The data informed Jack rather needlessly that the Marine was missing his right arm above the elbow. The suit had re-sealed itself and the internal environment was being maintained at optimal levels. The onboard medical package had administered a blood clotting agent and had cauterized the wound. The Marine had received a limited amount of painkiller and a serotonin boost to enhance the wounded Marine’s mood. He was in good spirits and adding his weight to the battle.

  “Good work, Marine,” Jack said. “Keep up the fire. We will hold them off.”

  “If they come near me, I’m going to slap them around with that arm.” The Marine nodded toward his severed right arm. Then, standing up, he stepped out from behind the barricade and let off a burst of fire.

  Jack glanced around the edge of the barricade and judged the distance to the trench. He could make it in a few seconds at a sprint. He checked his breathing and then made his dash.

  The plasma spears fizzed all around him, thick like horizontal rain. Jack put all thoughts of fear from his mind and focused on the trench up ahead. He dashed away from the hangar onto the surface of Brecon, the dusty ground crunching under foot, the black sky towering above to infinity.

  Diving to the ground and skidding the last meter, Jack threw up a cloud of the pale Brecon dust. He dropped into the trench as the plasma spears fizzed overhead.

  The trench was littered with dead and wounded. Jack moved along the trench, crouching to keep his head out of reach of the Chitin’s plasma spears that raced overhead. He came to a wounded Marine. His medical data showed signs of concussion. He had taken a glancing blow and been flung back against the back side of the trench. His helmet was still clearing vomit away from the inside of the faceplate.

  Jack took a knee next to the Marine. He put a hand on his shoulder.

  “You’ve taken a knock on the head, Marine, but I need you in the fight. Can you get up?”

  The Marine looked up at Jack.

  “I said I need you in the fight, Marine. Copy?”

  The Marine looked away.

  Jack accessed the company medical protocols and searched for a chemical boost for the Marine. The medical package suggested a synthetic energy boost. Jack allowed the Marine’s meat suit to administer the maximum dose.

  “You ready to get back in the fight?” Jack asked.

  The Marine clambered to his feet. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Don’t know what came over me, sir.” He leaned against the trench rampart and fired a number of short bursts.

  Jack patted the Marine on the back. “Good work, Marine.” And then he went on, surveying his troops and urging them to action.

  The Blades made another pass. Jack stopped to watch their flight. They swooped down low and poured fire into the Chitin soldiers. The Chits were almost on top of the trench, only twenty meters away in some cases. The Blades executed a piece of precision flying and shooting to smash the front of the Chitin line. The Blades completed their run and raced away, back up into the black. Jack watched the Chitin Krakens that were still in pursuit. There seemed fewer of them this time. The Chitins were taking a beating from the Fleet.

  “They are falling back,” Jack heard a Marine speaking over his squad channel.

  Jack looked and saw the Chitin soldiers lurching backwards. Their plasma spears still flashed toward the Marines, but the intensity and accuracy was failing. The Marines were cheering and jeering. Jack moved along the trench, keeping low and calling out his commands.

  “Maintain the fire, Cobra. Heavy fire. Give them everything you’ve got.”

  The Marines were pressed back to their task, positioning themselves against the trench and firing bursts of pulse rifle fire into the retreating Chitin soldiers.

  “Blast them, Cobra. Aim and fire. Keep the intensity. You got them on the run now, Cobra. Keep them running.”

  Jack looked out at the surface of Brecon and the smoldering battlefield littered with Chitin corpses and the wrecks of Fleet ships. He looked up and saw the distant flashes of a battle a thousand kilometers above him in space. Jack pulled up his field scanner and looked at the distant battle. A destroyer was fighting a fierce battle, all its guns firing and Chitin plasma arcs slamming into the hull. Jack knew the Scorpio was up there. He hoped his old shipmates were doing well.

  “That’s it, Cobra,” Jack said as the Chits fell back to the edge of the pulse rifle range. “Don’t let them off the hook. Keep hitting them.”

  Aiming down his pulse rifle sights, Jack picked a target and fired. The Chitin’s head exploded as the pulse round hit. Jack knew they had won a fierce battle, but he didn’t expect it was the last. The Chitins still had humankind right where they wanted them. The Chits wouldn’t give up until all the humans were dead or gone.

  Jack clambered out of the trench and walked toward the small doorway at the far end of the hangar. He sent instructions to all squad leaders to deal with their dead and wounded. Jack headed for the small office that was his command center. He needed to assess the battle data. The Chits would come again, and he wasn’t going to make it easy for them. He would have to surprise them the next time they attacked. He needed to use his numbers wisely. He needed supplies. More than anything, Jack needed to win. For the sake of humankind, Jack needed to win.

  13

  The port-side battery fell silent as the cannon muzzles overheated. Failure of the Scorpio’s coolant system a perennial problem. Pretorius ordered more powe
r to the laser cannon. The Krakens and Hydras closed in.

  The Aries was holding position underneath the Scorpio. They hung in space, their bellies together, giving more room for the top-mounted laser cannon to operate. The captains held the formation and defied the onslaught of the Chitin ships.

  The squadron of Blades from the destroyed carrier, Monarch, buzzed around the two destroyers fighting off the incoming Krakens and Hydras, their forward laser cannons accounting for many Chitin ships that came too close to the pair of destroyers.

  Pretorius contacted captain Lauafa on the Aries.

  “Janie. Hi,” Pretorius said as if he was meeting his colleague at a weekend picnic. “Lost my port battery. They’ll be on me soon.”

  “Good luck,” Lauafa replied, equally as matter-of-fact. “Alistair, don’t forget, you still owe me that golf rematch.”

  Pretorius saw the first Hydra break through the defensive perimeter and latch onto the Scorpio’s hull.

  “I’ll book the course next time I’m on Eros,” Pretorius said.

  The Blades attacked the Hydras close to the Scorpio, but numbers were winning the day and soon, another Hydra attached itself to the Scorpio’s hull, and then a flood of Hydras broke through to attach, limpet-like.

  “Janie,” Pretorius said to his colleague aboard the Aries, “I’ll let you know if I need to initiate the capture avoidance strategy in plenty of time for you to get clear.” Pretorius saw the hull breach alert warning pop up in front of him. He swiped it away.

  “Don’t be too eager to try it, Alistair. I’ll see you on the first tee.”

  “Pretorius out.” He pulled the pulse pistol from the small of his back and checked the weapon again. If the Chitins made it as far as the command deck, Pretorius would be too busy to use a sidearm, but protocol dictated that in this circumstance, he should be armed. He tucked the weapon back into his waistband. He opened a channel to Major Griff to confirm the Chitins were about to board the Scorpio.