by Jay Allan
Jill led the screaming murderous crowd to Founder’s Square, where her nightmare had begun that terrible day almost three years before. The place was now a federal supply dump, and her people surged over the barricades and broke into the weapons lockers. Now her people were armed.
They ran wild through the city, breaking into every building. They were here to deal with collaborators as well as the federals. Civilians, many guilty of nothing more than remaining quiet and escaping the notice of the federal authorities, were dragged out into the streets and branded as traitors. They were stripped and beaten…and finally murdered. The anger of the crowd defied rationality or mercy. To those who had endured the deprivation and indignity of the camp, there was no ambiguity. Anyone not fighting the federals was a traitor. And there was only one way to deal with traitors.
The federal troops were busy trying to consolidate their hold on Carlisle Island. The battle had raged for days, and finally the rebels had retired to a smaller island just off the northern coast, a place they called the Rock. It was well named, a granite bastion rising ominously from the sea, promising a heavy fight to any who assaulted its jagged shore.
An aggressive commander might have attacked immediately, seeking to finish the rebellion with one last confrontation. But the Alliance forces were in no condition to mount such an operation. The fight for Carlisle had been difficult, despite their numerical superiority. They had suffered massive casualties, and all across the newly occupied Carlisle Island, makeshift field hospitals were set up.
Any possibility of attacking the Rock was lost when a communication reached Governor Cooper from Weston. There had been a breakout from the detention camp, and thousands of inmates were rampaging through the city. Worse, they had broken into the storage facilities and armed themselves. By all accounts, the city of Weston was a smoldering ruin.
“I want them exterminated, General Strom.” Cooper’s anger had taken control of him. “Immediately. I don’t care how tired your troops are.”
Strom was just as outraged as Cooper. The thought of a bunch of mindless Cogs – and that is how he thought of the colonists – running wild and murdering his troops was an affront. But he was also the one faced with the reality of putting together a force powerful enough to wipe out the now-armed mob…and right now, just hours after the fighting ended on Carlisle, he didn’t know where he was going to find troops in any condition to go immediately back into a fight. “Governor, I share your feelings, but it will take some time to assemble a large enough force and ship them back to Weston.” Strom was going to leave it at that, but then he added, “By all accounts, the mob is now heavily armed.”
Strom was a procrastinator and an officer of, at best, marginal ability, however this time his read on the situation was dead on. But Cooper was acting on pure anger now. “General, we do not have time. We must eradicate these rampaging animals, and we must do it at once.”
Cooper wasn’t being rational, but he wasn’t wrong tactically either. There was no way to calculate or predict the damage an armed and enraged mob could do if it was allowed to remain unchecked. “Governor, I have already issued orders for our pickets south of Weston to cordon off the area and pin the mob down near Weston. But our forces there are minimal, and they lack the strength to attack without reinforcement. I wi…”
“Then send reinforcements. Now!” Cooper interrupted Strom, his body quivering with rage. “I want them dead. All of them. No prisoners, no mercy.”
Strom bristled at Cooper’s tone, but he could see the governor was unbalanced, and he controlled his own anger. They were on the verge of success on Columbia, and Strom wasn’t going to get into a fight with the governor if he could avoid it. Not this close to the end. “I will see to it, Governor Cooper.” His voice was reasonably controlled, though he had no doubt his own anger bled through. “I will dispatch forces as soon as it can be done.” It was a non-committal answer, but it was the best he was going to offer.
“And the other camps are to be destroyed as well. Hampton, Southpoint. All inmates are to be terminated immediately.” Cooper looked at Strom, and his eyes wide and crazy. “See to it at once, general.”
The Gordon landers swooped down out of the dawn sky, fiery trails streaking behind as they bored through the thick atmosphere on their way to the surface. The landing was precisely plotted – Jax had transmitted detailed coordinates, and the incoming forces were coming down on Carlisle Island, right in the middle of the federal army.
The defenders were taken by surprise. Admirals Garret and Compton had knocked out all of the observation satellites that Cooper could access, effectively blinding him. The first warning his troops had was seeing the agile five-man landers angling in for a final approach.
The alarm was sounded in the federal camps, but by the time the troops were mustered, the first wave of Marines had landed. The attackers fanned out from their landing craft in perfect order, forming a perimeter to protect the incoming second wave.
One Marine in particular stepped out of one of the first wave Gordons, followed by a small cluster of aides. Elias Holm knew he shouldn’t have been on one of the first landers. Indeed, it felt like he’d spent half his career lecturing Erik Cain about the responsibilities of the commander to avoid unnecessary risks. But it was different this time, or at least that’s what he told himself.
He was leading Marines, as usual, but the circumstances were anything but normal. He’d rallied these Marines, in direct opposition to the orders of the sitting Commandant of the Corps. He was mutinous, technically at least, though how it would end depended heavily on the outcome of the current struggle. He had split the Corps, planting his flag and rallying to it all those who would come. Those who followed him put their careers - their very lives - at stake. If he was going to lead men and women in this situation, he was goddamned going to do it from the front line.
Holm knew what he had to do, but he was still conflicted. Samuels was a traitor, one who’d conspired to destroy the Corps he’d been entrusted to lead. But after forty years of loyal service, Holm still couldn’t entirely reconcile with the actions he had to take. He’d do what had to be done, but he knew he’d have a reckoning with himself eventually. He’d have to make peace with what he’d done, and he had to be in this front line if he was going to have any chance of that.
There was a reinforced battalion on the ground, 600 fully armored Marines. They’d landed on an island with more than 40,000 Alliance army soldiers. They could have been more prudent, landing in an unoccupied area and forming up the entire force, but Holm had faith in his troopers and their capabilities. He had a full report from Jax, and he knew the federals were exhausted and disorganized after the battle for Carlisle Island. Now was the time to hit them, before they could regroup and resupply.
Holm only had two and a half battalions anyway, and they were a little low on supplies themselves. That was all he could assemble quickly after sending Erik Cain and his troops to Arcadia. It was clear that the rest of the rebel forces – and Jax’s people too – were pinned down and facing annihilation. Waiting wasn’t an option, so Holm decided to land immediately.
The battle in space was still raging. Garret and Compton had control of the area around Columbia, and they’d had the best of the first round with the Directorate fleet. Garret’s move against the rear of the federal task force saved Compton, drawing off the superior forces before they could close to energy range. The federals let themselves get bracketed by all the converging forces, and they took heavy damage. The survivors blasted into the outer system at full thrust, and Garret’s and Compton’s forces were too disorganized and out of position to catch them.
Garret pulled the scattered squadrons back to Columbia, reorganizing the forces and positioning them to defend the planet. He had every intention of hunting down the rogue naval units, but his first priority was assisting General Holm to secure the surface and minimize the suffering on the planet.
So now 600 Marines held the perimeter wh
ile another 600 landed, along with all the supplies they had available. It was going to be 1,200 veterans, fully armored and ready for action, against 40,000 federal soldiers. They knew they were outnumbered, but they also knew they were led by General Elias Holm. And they knew they were Marines.
“Captain Kahn, bring your company forward and take Hill 109.” It had been a long time since Holm had commanded a force this small, and he was focusing on every detail. These men and women were here, arguably committing treason because he asked them to, and he took the added responsibility to heart. “I want to get our heavy ordnance up there.”
“Yes, sir.” Kahn’s response was sharp and instantaneous. There was hardly a man or woman in this force with less than five years experience, and it showed. “We’re on the way, sir.”
The powered Marines had been slicing through the Alliance forces like a knife through butter so far, but the federals were trying to bring some of their heavy weaponry into play. If they could get armored vehicles and artillery into the battle, they could give the Marines one hell of a fight. Holm wasn’t about to let them pull it off, not if there was anything he could do about it.
The Marines had landed in the middle of the island, splitting the federal forces. Garret threw up a defensive line in the south and drove north, pushing toward the coastline opposite the Rock. It was a vulnerable position, but Holm had his reasons. Marek and Jax had their forces ready to cross back to Carlisle and link up with him, but the federal artillery emplaced on the coast opposite the Rock made the passage impossible…at least until Holms’ forces took out the gun batteries. And the hill was part of his plan to do just that.
“General Holm…Captain Kahn here.” Kahn sounded a little harried. “We have occupied Hill 109, sir. The enemy appears to be regrouping for a counterattack.”
Holm was walking toward the hill when he got Kahn’s message. “Very good, captain. Casualty report?”
“Moderate losses, sir. It looks like six dead and eight wounded. They had heavy weapons positioned all along the crest.” Kahn paused for a second then added, “I’ll have a final report for you in a couple minutes.”
“Very well, captain. Carry on.” Holm made a face, though his helmet hid it from anyone’s view. They were doing pretty well, but his troops were suffering greater losses than he’d expected. The Feds, even though they were unarmored, had good weapons. Their SAWs, in particular, were quite effective at penetrating the Marines’ armor. But that wasn’t it, and Holm knew it. His troops were pushing too hard, charging up the center instead of taking the time for a flanking maneuver. It hadn’t occurred to him earlier, but it was his presence in such close proximity. They were trying to excel for him, even more than they normally did…and they were getting themselves killed doing it.
“Monty, put me on the master comlink.” It was time to put a stop to this.
“Yes, general.” Holm’s AI took two seconds, maybe three to establish the link. “You are addressing the entire expeditionary force, general.”
“Attention all personnel. This is General Holm.” He paused, realizing he wasn’t sure exactly what he wanted to say. He didn’t want to scold them for their élan; he just wanted them to exert more caution. “As always, you are acquitting yourselves with distinction. I have never been prouder of troops under my command.” He was thinking as he spoke – how do I put this? “However, I want all of you to proceed with greater caution. We cannot expect reinforcements on this campaign…and after we are done here we face an uncertain future. We may be compelled to fight again immediately. It is your duty, each and every one of you, to avoid unnecessary risks. Stay alive, people. I need you all. Holm out.”
He cut the line. Hopefully they’d take what he said to heart. He didn’t need any more of his Marines charging into the teeth of a heavy weapons emplacement trying to impress him. He carried enough guilt already.
“Captain Norton, we’ve occupied Hill 109, but it looks like the enemy is going to counterattack.” Holm was reviewing his mental checklist of available forces as he spoke. “I want you to send someone forward with all your SAW teams. I want that hill fortified, and I want it done immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” Norton’s reply was so sharp and fast she actually interrupted Holm, who had paused for an instant but wasn’t finished yet. “I will lead them forward myself.”
“No, captain.” He didn’t get angry with Norton. She was a good officer, but young. He’d given her a field promotion from lieutenant just before they’d landed and put her in command of the 1st battalion’s heavy weapons company. He could let a little over-eagerness slide. “I want you to bring up the rest of the heavies – the mortars and rocket launchers. Hill 109 has a field of fire to the northern beaches, and we’re going to start pounding those federal batteries.” He paused again, but this time Norton was silent. “But first we need to hold the place, so get those SAWs up there now.”
“Yes, sir. I’m on it now.”
“Very good, captain. Holm out.” He looked up toward the hill, a commanding position that dominated the entire area. The lower slope was gentle, normally grassy, but now a torn up, muddy mess. The crest was rockier, with a few jagged outcroppings extending out, creating small cliffs. It was a hard position for regular troops to haul up heavy ordnance, but his armored Marines could carry the stuff up there on their backs.
“Captain Kahn, Holm here.” He still hadn’t gotten that casualty report yet. With an officer like Mike Kahn, that meant things were hot. “How’s it going up there?”
“The federals are hitting us in force, sir.” Kahn sounded a little harried, but still in control. “They’re having a lot of trouble getting up the rocky band below the crest. We’ve inflicted heavy losses. Most of my people are in cover. We’re in pretty good shape so far.”
“Norton’s sending you the battalion SAW teams.” Holm knew damned well things were harder pressed than Kahn’s report suggested. For one, he could see on his own display that at least six more of Kahn’s troopers were offline. That didn’t mean they were all dead, but their suits weren’t transmitting their vitals anymore, and that wasn’t a good thing. “Feed them in wherever you need them. They should give you plenty of extra firepower to hold the hill.”
“Yes, sir. That will be a big help.” He paused then added, “I can see the first couple teams now. They’re just making their way up the lower slope.”
“Keep me in the loop.” Holm took a deep breath. “And captain…hold that hill. No matter what.”
“Yes, sir. You can count on us.” Kahn managed to sound convincing.
“Holm out.” He looked around for a few seconds, and then he started walking toward Hill 109. His mind wandered back to a dozen times he’d scolded Cain about moving too far forward…but he kept on walking.
Jax stood on the front of the barge, looking out at the beach. What a mess, he thought. The federal artillery batteries were twisted wreckage, mangled chunks of blasted steel littering the rocky coastline.
Everyone expected it would be another day or two at least before Holm’s people could get to the beach, but the general had seized the highest point on the northern end of the island and loaded it with mortars and heavy weapons. The Marines opened fire on the federal artillery positions, and their precision fire was like nothing the Alliance regulars had ever seen. Mortar rounds tore into the guns, tearing them apart, and heavy auto-cannons raked the area, gunning down the federal crews.
The Feds launched two counterattacks against the hill, but they were beaten back both times. A few hours after the last assault, the beaches were clear, the federal artillery completely silenced.
Jax and Marek had their people ready and waiting, and within thirty minutes, the first wave was moving toward the Carlisle coast. Now that Holm had secured the beaches, allowing Jax’s people and the rebel army to cross the narrow strait, he’d diverted most of his forces back south to face a large federal counterattack. The remaining enemy forces on the northern half of the island were now the
responsibility of Jax and Marek.
The rebels had only been on the Rock for a few days, and they were still exhausted and disorganized. But their morale was strong. The arrival of Holm and the Marines was a huge boost, and Marek’s troops were straining to get back into the fight. The federals in the north had been roughly handled by the Marines, and they were disordered and scattered in separate groups. Jax and Marek immediately began launching search and destroy missions, trying to wipe out the federal pockets before they were able to reorganize and regroup.
The fighting was brutal, with few prisoners taken by either side, at least in the early stages. The federals had no line of retreat; they were cut off and forced to fight to the end. The attacking rebels were still low on supplies, but they were angry from their recent defeat, and they fell on the Feds anywhere they found them. It took a full day, and most of the next, but by nightfall on the second day the battle was over on the northern half of Carlisle, and every federal soldier had been killed or captured.
In the south, Holm’s forces were slicing through the masses of federal troops, driving them steadily back. Losses were heavy, but finally the federals were pushed back onto invasion beaches. There was chaos as terrified soldiers threw down their arms and scrambled into whatever craft could carry them. Overloaded hovercraft attempted to lift off and head out over the sea, but many of them crashed into the roiling waves.
Finally, at dusk on the fifth day, the federal General Strom transmitted his unconditional surrender to Holm. Strom had deliberately bypassed Marek, preferring to deal with the Marine commander. But Holm refused, instructing the federal leader to treat with Marek. The Columbian forces had fought the whole war; this was their planet, and Holm respected what they had achieved. Strom had no choice – he surrendered the federal army to John Marek, and for the first time he was compelled to accord the rebel commander his Columbian rank of general.