The Epherium Chronicles: Crucible

by T. D. Wilson

  “Covering fire!” Sanchez yelled. He sprinted through the doorway, the corpsman on his heels.

  Maya and the rest of the Marines opened up on the closing Cilik’ti warriors. The lead group of the large warriors outpaced their vehicles and was within one hundred meters of the Marines’ position now. The Marines’ APCs continued to lay down heavy fire, and several of the warriors crashed and fell, leaving deep furrows in the soft ground.

  Sanchez ran hard to the next bunker and slipped in the slick mud when he reached the door. The corpsman helped him to his feet, but when Sanchez opened the door he noticed one of the original four Cilik’ti warriors on the ground next to the bunker. It was still alive and raised its pulse lance toward them.

  They had nowhere to go. Sanchez prepared to jump in front of the Cilik’ti’s attack when the warrior’s head snapped back and the lance fell from its grasp. As the warrior slumped to the ground, Sanchez noticed the hole in the armor covering the top of the warrior’s head. He gazed up the cliff face toward Priest’s position. Another muzzle flash came from Priest’s outcropping, and Sanchez watched another of the larger Cilik’ti warriors in the charge fall. The kid was good, all right.

  The Armstrong’s XO threw open the mangled door and stepped inside the smoke-filled bunker. The roof was on the brink of collapse. Sanchez and the corpsman dropped to their knees and crawled to reach the Marines inside. Two of the Marines were near the front of the bunker and still firing, but Sanchez found the first casualty, or what was left of him, just a few meters inside the door.

  The visual of the bodies brought bile to Sanchez’s throat and he stumbled, but the corpsman pushed him farther into the bunker past the charred remains. Sanchez swallowed hard and took a deep breath, trying to get the image out of his head. He knew that frontline combat would bring real casualties, but seeing that level of death up close was overwhelming.

  Two more Marines were down and not moving in the center of the bunker, but Sanchez heard groaning near the north wall. Trying not to look at the other dead Marines, he bear-crawled toward the sound. His rifle, still slung over his shoulder, scraped against the sunken ceiling. Both Marines were conscious but in terrible shape. The armor of the Marine to his left was scorched and his right arm was mangled. The arm hung limp at his side, but he managed to raise his other one a few centimeters and point in their direction. His buddy was worse off. The armor covering his right leg had been removed and there was a huge gash on his right thigh, covered by a makeshift bandage. By the amount of blood already on the ground, the artery had been cut. If something wasn’t done soon, he would bleed out. Both of the men had blood trickling from their ears and noses, and Sanchez was amazed they could even call out for help.

  He pointed to the corpsman. “You handle them. I’m going up front.”

  The Cilik’ti charge had slowed, but blasts from their pulse lances continued to riddle the Marines’ defensive positions.

  Sanchez reached the two active defenders in the bunker, kneeled beside them and readied his weapon. “You two okay?”

  One of the Marines stopped firing and turned his head toward him. “Commander, what are you doing here?”

  “Saving your butts, Private,” Sanchez responded with his best smart-aleck tone. “Are you wounded?”

  The young Marine shook his head and motioned toward his two friends. “We’re a little worse for wear, but Campbell and Price over there need help.”

  Another Cilik’ti stepped into view, firing its pulse lance at their bunker. The two Marines returned fire, forcing it to take cover next to a boulder.

  “They’re being taken care of,” Sanchez reassured him, but that feeling was lost when a new wave of Cilik’ti warriors charged forward, followed by their vehicles. The Shredder tank launched another salvo of blue energy, this time at one of the Marine APCs. The Marine manning the top pulse cannon didn’t have time to jump clear before the vehicle exploded in a blinding flash.

  Sanchez gritted his teeth. “We’ve got to take out that tank or it’s going to pulverize us.”

  The core of the Cilik’ti advance reached the one-hundred-meter mark from the bunkers, and warriors broke in groups of six. The warriors continued to move toward the bunkers, under cover from their vehicles. The fire was intense, and Sanchez and the two Marines with him had to take cover.

  “Do you have any heavy ordinance in here?” he asked.

  “Campbell had the APs and grenade launcher, sir. They should still be with him.”

  Sanchez looked over at the two Marines still under care from the corpsman. Sitting beside Campbell was the long tube armored projectile, or AP, but he didn’t see the grenade launcher. The APs were the Marine ground forces’ standard antitank weapon. The AP’s effective range on most armored targets was three hundred meters, but the Shredder’s armor was tough. A forward strike—even at close range—didn’t guarantee a kill shot. Sanchez needed that weapon. He fast-crawled back to the north wall and grabbed the AP, but there weren’t any additional shells.

  “Ammo got toasted in the blast,” Campbell said, his voice weak and raspy.

  “What about the grenade launcher?”

  The wounded Marine shook his head. “I had it in my hands when the round hit. I don’t know where it is, but my ammo belt is still on me.” He tried to move but only managed to slide down the wall and onto his bad arm. He groaned in pain and Sanchez helped him back up. “Get it off me, sir. Even without the launcher, you can set them to blow manually. Just twist the bottom of the sleeve counterclockwise and press the detonator on the base for three seconds. You’ll have five seconds before it blows.”

  “Gotcha,” Sanchez replied. He threw the ammo belt over his shoulder when he noticed someone else next to him. It was Maya. “What are you doing here, Lieutenant? I told you to stay with the Marines in the other bunker.”

  “Security escort, Commander. Where you go, I go,” she replied and tapped the AP he held in his hands. “You’re not planning to do something crazy, are you?”

  “Nothing more than usual.” He moved over to the back door. “We have to make an end run to get a shot at that tank. Are you with me?”

  Maya rolled her eyes in mild disbelief, nodded and joined him at the door.

  “Incoming!” The shout came from the front of the bunker.

  Sanchez and Maya sprinted out the door just as another blast from the Shredder tank hit their bunker. The force of the blast rippled through the door and sent them sprawling onto the muddy ground. He couldn’t tell if anyone in the bunker survived, but there wasn’t time to check. Somehow, he managed to hold on to the AP. With Maya’s help, they both sprinted behind the next bunker, moving farther from the lakeshore.

  Cilik’ti warriors continued to press their advantage, with some launching their lances into the Marine bunkers, triggered to explode. Maya and Sanchez cut in behind one of the Marine APCs that moved between one of the bunkers, its machine guns firing bursts at the advancing Cilik’ti.

  Sanchez noticed the lone Marine tank break cover and surge onto the field past the left flank of the bunkers. It destroyed another one of the Cilik’ti vehicles with its main gun and crushed four warriors in its path as it tried to draw fire away from the besieged defenses.

  Taking advantage of the distraction, Maya and Sanchez continued behind the curved line of bunkers. The Marine tank had taken several hits from the smaller Cilik’ti vehicles, but nothing severe. As the tank retreated toward the Marines’ defensive line, a blast from the Shredder tank ripped into its side, melting armor and fusing the turret in place. The huge tank ground to a halt, and smoke poured from the rear. Its engine roared, but the transmission linkage was broken, leaving the best weapon the Marines had vulnerable.

  Maya and Sanchez reached the far bunker closest to the tank and watched as three Cilik’ti warriors leaped onto the disabled vehicle. The warriors began to tear at
some of the mangled armor plating with their powerful armor-enhanced hands, trying to get inside to the crew. The rest of the Cilik’ti force ignored the disabled tank and turned their attention back to the Marine and colonist defenders inside the bunkers.

  They needed to get to the Marines trapped in the tank, but the Cilik’ti were too many and the bunker closest to the lake was about to be overrun. Sanchez raised the AP to his shoulder and crept around the side of the bunker. The Shredder wasn’t moving and it was too far away for him to get a kill shot.

  The Cilik’ti tank fired again on one of the bunkers, blasting away reinforced plating and concrete. After a brief pause, defensive fire from the Marines in the bunker resumed. Sanchez couldn’t wait any longer. He locked the Shredder into the AP’s sights and fired. The shock of the launch caused Sanchez to flinch, and the shot went high, impacting on the front of the turret next to its cannon. To Sanchez’s dismay, the shell didn’t penetrate.

  Three of the Cilik’ti closest to the tank turned and pointed at Sanchez. Two of the Cilik’ti fell to the ground, victims of Priest’s deadly aim. Sanchez jumped behind the bunker before the third could open fire.

  Sanchez heard the sound of the Shredder moving again and he crawled to the other side of the bunker. It didn’t move far, but that wasn’t the issue. Several of the Cilik’ti near the tank were firing up toward the cliff face. They had found Priest’s position. The Shredder’s turret moved and the cannon elevated again. It was going to fire on Priest.

  He slipped the ammo belt off his shoulder and handed it toward Maya. “How’s your throwing arm? Can you get these grenades close that cannon?”

  Maya grabbed the belt from Sanchez’s hand and leaned against the corner of the bunker, watching the Shredder prepare to fire. Her lips moved in silence as she counted, while her hand found one of the grenades and turned the sleeve. She twisted her body sideways, pressed the detonator button and then whipped the ammo belt in a high arc toward the Cilik’ti tank. The belt soared like a lopsided lasso and caught on the far particle cannon of the Shredder’s turret. The momentum of the heavy grenade belt almost dislodged it, but the belt looped on the cannon and came to rest near the base of the tank’s turret.

  Blue energy built up once again in the cannons and was about to released when the grenade exploded. The blast set off the remaining grenades in a series of concussive blasts on top of the tank that knocked several of the nearby Cilik’ti warriors to the ground. Sanchez could still see the blue energy of the particle cannons getting stronger, even in the thick smoke now engulfing the tank. But the sound the cannon produced before firing was different. The low buzz had turned to a high-pitched whine that continued to grow in intensity.

  The wind and rain cleared the smoke, allowing Sanchez to admire Maya’s handiwork. Both cannons were damaged, but the left one had been ripped in half, exposing the inner emitters of the cannon. The particle energy encircled the entire turret now, and the sound grew louder to an almost deafening level. It was going to overload.

  Sanchez ducked behind the bunker again. Maya landed beside him as the cannons detonated, but she dropped her M20 into the thick mud collecting near the bunker’s rear. The explosion blasted the Shredder’s entire turret off the base of the tank in a spectacular light show. The ten-meter blast radius incinerated several of the Cilik’ti within its range and triggered a concussive wave that rippled across the battlefield, sprawling Cilik’ti and Marine alike.

  Maya and Sanchez had been spared the effect of the blast thanks to the bunker and moved again to the far side, hoping to find the disabled Marine tank clear of the enemy. The three Cilik’ti had indeed been thrown off the tank but were already trying to stand. Sanchez opened fire with his rifle on the closest Cilik’ti of the group, besting the armor near its thorax. The huge warrior dropped to the ground, screeching in pain.

  The two other Cilik’ti, now under fire from more of the Marines, fell back to the disabled tank, circling behind it, seeking cover. Across the battlefield, more of the Cilik’ti struggled to regain their footing. Their heavy armor weighed them down in the muddy terrain, but the effect seemed temporary. The powerful armor enhanced the Cilik’ti warriors’ incredible strength, and many of the warriors used it to steady themselves and fight on.

  The loss of the Shredder tank didn’t seem to deter the Cilik’ti. Sanchez breathed hard now and his armor pinched at him as he tried to figure out what to do. The Cilik’ti pressed on past the lakeshore, ignoring the barrage of fire coming from the remaining Marines. There was no way to stop them. Even from Sanchez’s vantage point, he could tell the remaining Marine positions would be overrun. He was about to signal the Marines to break cover and retreat when a new torrent of weapons fire dropped several of the large Cilik’ti on their left flank.

  Out of the lake, Toronaga and his small company of MACE troopers crested the surface and unloaded a lethal dose of automatic fire into the unsuspecting aliens. The last MACE unit to leave its watery camouflage fired its large antitank weapon and reduced the last Cilik’ti APC to scrap, scattering more of the Cilik’ti as they scrambled to react. Caught between two fronts, the dwindling Cilik’ti forces began to withdraw.

  The Marines trapped in their tank, no longer facing the imminent threat of being torn apart at the hands of Cilik’ti warriors, manned their antipersonnel weapons on the front of the tank and added their firepower to the party.

  The two Cilik’ti that were still on the far side of the tank away from the bunkers crept back onto the tank toward the gunners. Before the armored warriors could reach the guns, the one on the right jerked hard and slumped down on the side of the turret, another victim of the Marines’ sniper. The remaining Cilik’ti realized the fate of his comrade and jumped behind the turret as two more rounds from Priest’s rifle ricocheted off the tank’s armor.

  Still at the back side of the bunker, Sanchez fired more rounds at the confused Cilik’ti warriors. The MACE units had taken them by surprise and had broken their flank. More of the once-confident Cilik’ti warriors fell to the ground, and Sanchez took careful aim at the more exposed areas of their armor to make sure they stayed there.

  In desperation, a few Cilik’ti charged the Marine bunkers one more time, their lances set to explode. Only one made it close enough to throw its lance, which failed to pierce the armored wall of its intended target. Each of the lances exploded in massive fireballs, but they were unable to damage the Marine positions or weaken their growing resolve.

  Sanchez noticed Maya kneel beside him and struggle to clear the mud from the barrel of her weapon, but it was no use—the barrel was clogged. He could hear another crescendo from a particle weapon on the far side of the disabled Marine tank. The Cilik’ti warrior hiding there had begun to overload his lance and was preparing to use it against the Marines still inside.

  * * *

  Maya dropped her rifle and sprinted toward the tank before he could stop her, her light footfalls leaving little trace in the mud as she ran. She jumped twice to the side to dodge incoming fire from a Cilik’ti warrior firing at the Marines. To her right, she noticed two warriors moving toward her, trying to intercept. There was no way to pass, and she grabbed the assault pistol from her holster as she ran. Before she could take aim, the head of the closest Cilik’ti jerked at an odd angle to the side and its body crashed to the ground. Even as she ran, Maya figured the shot had come from the high-cover sniper who’d already inflicted heavy losses on their attackers.

  The second Cilik’ti readied its lance, and Maya jumped high and to the left to throw off its aim. When she landed, she saw another round from the sniper strike the warrior in the back just below its neck. The warrior issued a painful howl as it dropped its lance and slumped into the mud.

  Maya leaped on the tank in a single bound. Holding her Browning pistol in her left hand, she drew her sword with her right. She jumped high again over the damaged turret and the surpris
ed Cilik’ti, who was still tucked behind the tank, charging its lance. While in the air, she fired three rounds from her pistol into the warrior’s neck. The Cilik’ti howled in pain and made an ineffective swipe with its lance at Maya before she landed.

  Maya landed behind the Cilik’ti and with one powerful stroke severed two of the warrior’s rear legs. Black-and-yellow ichor spewed from the wounds. No longer able to hold its balance, the Cilik’ti fell from the tank to the ground. Maya hopped to her right and reversed her stroke, taking the warrior’s weapon arm this time. The lance, still in its grasp, fell into the mud. The Cilik’ti roared and tried to lunge at Maya, hoping to crush her with its body. She held her ground and fired two more rounds from her pistol into the warrior’s face, driving its head up. She followed with a horizontal slash of her sword that found its unprotected neck. The armored head fell with a squishy thud at her feet.

  Maya tossed her weapons onto the tank and reached down to grab the arm stump sticking up from the mud. She pried the lance free from its deathly grasp and in one spinning motion launched the lance like a spear toward the ridge. The lance tip plunged into the rocky earth and exploded, sending rocks flying in all directions but not causing any harm.

  Toronaga’s MACE group took down the remaining three Cilik’ti warriors with short blasts from the weapons. The last warrior tried to stand, but the heavy foot from Toronaga’s MACE crushed its chest. He fired one final round into its face for good measure.

  Maya looked back toward the bunkers and could see Sanchez step out from his covered position to survey the battlefield. All of the bunkers had taken damage, three severely. Smoldering fires from explosions and heavy weapon discharges were everywhere. With the lull in the sounds of battle, she could hear the cries for help. High on the wall, Priest stood, in MACE, brandishing his deadly sniper rifle.

  Maya, still covered in the gore from the Cilik’ti warrior she’d killed, ran back to Sanchez. Together, they started to move bunker to bunker, searching for survivors. Sanchez kneeled next to the first bunker and was greeted by a lot of cheering but battered Marines. They all gave him a thumbs-up sign, which he returned. He stood, a smile on his face, when the world exploded around him.