The Legion Awakes (The Sleeping Legion Book 1)

by JR Handley

  After finding his solution, Tendaji executed it with his Cadets like a man possessed. Their position was secured in a record hour, since the dirt they were digging in was softened by its proximity to the river, and the high branches which shaded it from the sun. This meant he had four hours to spare, time enough for him to send three Cadets to prep trees for Mayer’s Cadets, and maybe start their firing holes. If they take two hours, we will still have another two to be in position. This could really work, and I might end up getting laid!

  After scanning his Cadets, he picked his three most energetic ones and ordered them back to help prep the first site for the battle ahead. “I know you’re tired, you want to rest, but the battle is upon us soon and I guarantee you’ll sleep well afterwards. Unofficially, you’ll get a few days leave if you win this. Colonel Marchewka hates his counterpart in the 828th and would love to be able to stick it to him. If you guys finish their position like we did here, there are several barrels of alcohol waiting for you. Not that shitty grok the other sergeants foist off on you, quality Navy whiskey. Stuff which has been aged since you were in the crèche getting your diapers changed. Think that is motivation–”

  Tendaji never got to finish his sentence, because at the mention of a barrel of the finest whiskey the Spacers could distill, the Cadets took off. Knowing that at least half of his unit needed some rest, he had them each pre-position their gear and eat or catch a quick nap. While they rested, he climbed into the tree which had been prepped for him, and sighted in at the 828th across the river. From this vantage point, he could see that they had barely dug in and seemed dismissive of an enemy presence. By Bardo, please keep their sergeant away so we can crush the arrogance out of these Cull candidates.

  Knowing he had nothing else to do, Tendaji leaned back into the seat he’d made for himself and dozed off. After he had napped for an hour, the trees shading him from the heat of the day, he saw movement from his side of the river. I need to re-educate those fools on the meaning of stealth. They sound like a herd of angry Trogs. Sighing, he climbed back down to talk with his Cadets.

  “Did you accomplish your mission?” Tendaji asked the Cadets, who were breathless after running back from the first ford point. When they emphatically nodded, he decided to believe them, since there was no way they thought he wouldn’t find out. “Good, you know I’ll check up on you but if it is as you say, there is a barrel of Spacer whiskey in it for you and your diskmates. I expect you to lock yourselves into your habdisk first, safety first!”

  Even Tendaji couldn’t keep a straight face at that one, so he quietly sent his Cadets to their positions and told them to rest for an hour before climbing into their perches. That would give them just over an hour wait before things were supposed to kick off.

  — Chapter 30 —

  Sergeant Hiecht, Chaos Company Mobile Reserve

  After deciding to make rounds of his squad, Hiecht was pleased with most of what he saw. His 1st Section had set up their defense of the Akoni Mountain flank with care and consideration for all the variables they could, given their limited resources. His 2nd Section had successfully created a perimeter of the rear flanks and cut down some of the trees from the forest to build several bunkers, which were dug into the ground, with interlocking fields of fire. They’d even dug a trench connecting all of the positions, though they didn’t have the troops to cover all of the positions they created. If they were attacked, the mobile reserve reinforcements would be able to quickly defend the flank with the available battle line. I think I’m going to have to reward their section leaders when this is over, that level of unsupervised leadership has to count for something.

  When Hiecht got to the Dynia River flank, however, he was met with chaos, laziness and disorganization. He wasn’t at all pleased with the performance of his 3rd Section, who had made no real effort to dig in or worry about their defensive positioning. I know it’s hot out right now, but frakk if they couldn’t have dug in during the cool of the night. I don’t care whose sperm she was spawned by, that kid’s time as a section leader is over. Plenty of room in the Aux Slave Pens for laziness like this. I won’t stand for that in my command!

  Immediately upon arriving on this flank, Hiecht sent the first Cadet he saw to bring Cadet Corporal Teresina Vavara to him. When she finally found him walking the perimeter, one showing obvious signs of the previous units who’d fortified the position, he couldn’t help but get angry all over again. There were marks to indicate acceptable positions. She didn’t even have to think to do her job. The closer she got to him, the more he saw how disheveled she looked. Out frakking rather than working? If this line falls, it’s on her.

  She didn’t even get to finish snapping to attention before Hiecht lit into her with more venom than he’d ever shown a Cadet since arriving in a Cadet training battalion last year. “I was about to ask you what you have to say for yourself,” he yelled, spewing spittle as he screamed at her. He quickly took a second, taking a calming breath before continuing. “Except nothing you could say would excuse your piss poor performance, but try anyway.”

  After seeming to withdraw into herself, Cadet Vavara answered without much conviction, “Sergeant, I didn’t think–” She was never given a chance to finish that train of thought, before Hiecht cut her off.

  While yelling and alternately poking her chest with his rigid index finger, Hiecht continued apoplectically dispensing Vavara’s ass chewing. “Do you think those kids in the 6907th don’t know that we think those rivers are impassible? If you had to attack an enemy, wouldn’t that motivate you to try to use their hubris against them? Have you even bothered posting a guard to watch?” He momentarily stopped, shocked at what he read on her face. “You haven’t? By Horden’s Sweaty Balls, girl, misdirection is a part of warfare that’s older than time itself. If the common thought is ever that one way can’t be done, then by God expect the enemy to try to do it. I’d fire you right now if I had time to oversee your replacement, so here’s what I am going to do. Your ability to pull this shit sandwich out of your arse will determine if you end this mission without your rank or as an Aux. Are we clear on that?”

  Hiecht was blown away, she truly looked like she was going to cry. Marines don’t cry for crap’s sake! He stared at her for a second, realizing that she got the severity of her screw up, before he softened a bit and decided to help the process along. “You need to get your Cadets digging in so fast they’re shitting rocket fuel, crècheling! Then try to use the dirt to make a small berm to add a layer of protection while creating interlocking fields of fire and a line long enough to support any reinforcements that arrive. Against my better judgment, I am pulling half the mobile reserve to help you fix this section of the line. Send a runner to those jackals in 4th Section, let them sweat too. Find anything you can to beef up your walls. Ignore the buildings. Anything that’s lasted this long won’t be easily destroyed and their insides were picked clean years before either one of us was sired. Get a two-man team to prep a Fermi placement location on one of those roofs. Now hop to it!”

  ––An Hour Later––

  The defenses are coming along, especially with the manpower from two sections lending their muscles to the effort, mused Sergeant Hiecht. He briefly contemplated having them dig a secondary trench line of hasty firing holes, when he caught movement in the trees across the river. After he saw the movement he began to observe more closely and noticed the sun glinting off something reflective. He began to scan through the scope of his rifle and saw an enemy Cadet leaning against a tree. Taking careful aim, he squeezed the trigger just as one of his Cadets bumped into him, causing his shot to go wide. Realizing something was going on, the two sections of 4th Squad began to open fire on the woods across the river.

  After grunting his frustration at the missed shot, Hiecht sprinted to the firing positions while screaming above the cacophony of rifle fire for his Cadets to cease fire. They need to use fire discipline, don’t shoot at a target until you see it. All the spray and pra
y method does is waste ammunition and piss the enemy off. As soon as the rifle fire ceased, he sprinted to the nearest section leader, Cadet Corporal Carter Weiss of 4th Section, and jumped into the hole next to him. He quickly told him to keep his unit maintaining fire discipline, before running down the line to Vavara to repeat the message.

  As Hiecht scanned the field, he saw a bright flare shoot into the air above them, fired from one of the trees across the river. That has to be some sort of signal, this is the main event! I knew Arahi was too arrogant for his own good. As he continued looking for anything he could be doing to improve his positioning, Cadets began dropping around him. Frakk, where are they! He scanned around, looking for anything to eliminate the threat. When the fifth Cadet dropped beside him, he caught a muzzle flash from the tree branches 20 meters up. How did they get all the way up there without the assistance of armor? he wondered admiringly. He hollered at his troops to watch the tree branches.

  Dang, I can’t even be sure we got any of them. He continued scanning, until he saw the glint of sunlight off the armor of one of the judges. Bullocks, at least we got one! When he saw how many of his squad were down, he ordered Cadet Boyd Falana, the surviving member of Golf Fire Team, to be his runner. “Falana, I need you to run back and get the entire mobile reserve here. Heck, I think this might be the main assault, it’s too well coordinated not to be. Pull the whole squad over here. Then I want you to run to Captain Arahi and tell him to send reinforcements. They’ve managed to scale the trees without armor, and they’ve gotta have some trick to ford the Dynia. Stress to the captain that this was too well coordinated not to be significant. Now go!”

  After making sure Falana got off safely, Hiecht muttered to himself, frustrated that the judges saw him lose so much of his command at so little a cost to his enemies. I’ll hear about this in the after action review, and I doubt any of it will be pleasant.

  — Chapter 31 —

  Mayer Assault Force

  1st Section, 4th Squad, Whiskey Company

  There was just over two hours left before the party started when Isabella and her weary Cadets arrived at the first river ford. My Cadets did an awesome job, but damn I owe them two barrels of grok for getting to the river ford two hours early. They are so close together, I will give them this one. They earned it and it’ll motivate them to win so they’ve the leave to enjoy getting sloppy drunk. Looking around, she didn’t see Sergeant Conteh anywhere and was confused, until one of her Cadets spotted a note scrawled into the dirt.

  The note simply said: ‘Conteh, took 2 position, secure 1 and rest’.

  It’s written succinctly, the way Conteh does everything, Isabella thought. Has to be his work, guess we dig in here. As she began scanning for the best firing positions, she found a strip map sketched onto the bark of one of the nearby trees. He’d had her position prepped for her too. Maybe I will spend some of the down time with him, it’s the least I can do.

  After quickly getting Abbott into one of the firing holes – no way was she climbing those trees – Isabella had half of her Cadets climb into the tree perches while the other half grabbed the firing holes. Once everyone was situated, she had her section leader memorize the note Conteh left, just in case this was a trick. Least we’ll be somewhat protected if this was an elaborate ploy, she mused.

  When Isabella’s Aimee pinged, telling her they had an hour before things kicked off, she ordered her Cadets into position and on a heightened alert. Satisfied that things were set, she climbed into the tree which had been prepped for her. As she reached the perch, her canteen fell off her webbed vest where her equipment was strapped, and down to the ground 20 meters below. Before she could fully position herself, the Chaos Company Cadets from across the river began spraying their general area with rounds.

  Without needing to be told, the three Cadets perched in the trees began to pick off the enemy. Not a murmur or cheer came from Isabella’s Cadets because they were trying to conceal their numbers, and that created an odd battlespace. While armored and in the void, your suit shielded you so you could scream or cry. No one knew, and none cared just so long as you were able to function and attack on command. Even in ground battles you could jeer the enemy, but for this mission, stealth was their secret weapon. While scanning the opposing side, she counted five Cadets on the ground twitching, having clearly been eliminated from the exercise. That left three Cadets that she could see, and their sergeant, crouched behind a hastily built and poorly constructed barricade. Not bad for how quickly they threw it together, she thought. Frakking outstanding, make that six Cadets down, she silently screamed, thrilled with her section’s marksmanship skills, as another Chaos Company Cadet fell to the ground. Even if those rounds were from Conteh’s squad, I’m damn sure claiming them, she thought to herself while laughing inside. Off to her right, she could hear Conteh’s Cadets also engaging the thinning line of their enemies’ position.

  After weakening the enemy so quickly, Isabella was conflicted. Should we assault now, while they’re weak? Hit and pull back across the river? Without comms, would that accomplish anything? They need to keep fighting, think this is the real deal, which requires living Cadets to send in frantic reports. Knowing how much rode on this for her regiment, she decided to take a more patient approach, and see what their opponents would do next.

  — Chapter 32 —

  Conteh Assault Force

  1st Section, 3rd Squad, Whiskey Company

  Tendaji was just about to leave his perch in the trees, when he heard the sound of a single rifle firing from across the river, so he quickly fired a flare into the sky. The flare, a prearranged signal that the enemy had spotted them early, would hopefully be seen by the main element in time to relieve the pressure from his Cadets. Satisfied that he’d done his part towards the completion of the larger mission, he resumed what he did best, focusing on what was right in front of him and solving it.

  After a single shot went off, the Cadets across the river began shooting blindly across the water. Who taught them that the spray and pray was an acceptable strategic response? That’s one sergeant that’s gonna be chewing some major arse tonight. After shaking his head to clear the errant thoughts, Tendaji began aiming for individual Cadets. I hope my Cadets are able to make every shot count, because they outnumber us here.

  Across the river, Tendaji saw armored Marines walking among prostrate Cadets, no doubt ensuring things were properly recorded for the head shed behind the scenes. Can’t the high muckity mucks let us have anything? Damn, they’re even killing the fun of a battle. Realizing that since he wasn’t in combat armor and plugged into BattleNet, the staffers couldn’t know what he was doing, he decided to have a little fun and took a few shots at the staff members walking the enemy lines. When one of them ducked as rounds pinged off his armor, Tendaji laughed loudly knowing he couldn’t be heard over the roar of the SA-71s being fired by both sides.

  As Tendaji sat in his perch, scanning for targets, confident that his Cadets didn’t need him micromanaging them at this point, he fumed to himself. Why didn’t Sergeant Scipio tell us about the judges? He had to know about them. Their existence on the battlefield, instead of relying on a few aerial drones, is odd. They have to be watching, curious about our new tactics. Well, hell, at least I got to shoot a staffer! And Scipio’ll hear about that from me for awhile… damn crèche sergeants!

  — Chapter 33 —

  Main Assault Force, Whiskey Company

  While taking a break from pacing up and down the line of his tired Cadets, urging them on with more enthusiasm than he felt, Lance took just a moment to admire the view from this vantage point. The old city seemed so childlike, its boxy structures looking like a toy left in the field when the dinner bell had been rung. As he observed the scene, one that would soon be the site of his eventual triumph or massive defeat, he saw a bright light in the sky. That’s the warning flare, the Dynia River element was spotted! I hope the other detachments from the main element saw it too. Wait, they wou
ldn’t know they’d been spotted unless they were under small arms fire. Damn, but I hope they can hold out long enough for us to successfully complete the mission.

  After checking his Aimee, though he seemed to have internalized the countdown clock, he realized that they had been seen an hour early. He took a moment to say a silent prayer, though he never was quite convinced as to who was listening, before he began to urge his Cadets on even faster. Knowing they needed something more to push through the walls of their exhaustion, Lance began to holler encouragement. “Only one more hour till the clearing, almost there! The other group’s being hit, we have to relieve them,” he screamed knowing that their loyalty to their company would push them harder than he could.

  When he could make out the clearing, just twenty minutes down the path, Lance began sprinting towards it while urging his Cadets to catch up. He could hear the noise of other columns, coming from various winding paths, converging on this spot, and his hair stood up on his arms. This is it, time to see whether my battle plan is as good as I think it is. At least nobody dies if I’m wrong, not until the Cull anyway.

  — Chapter 34 —

  Front Lines, Whiskey Company

  While making the rounds up and down the line, Mosi Okeke kept stressing the need to use the craters for cover when they made the frontal charge, and to avoid bunching up. “Can’t have you lining up to be cannon fodder for those chowder heads,” he laughingly told them. Stopping here and there, he joked with some of the more outgoing Cadets about why you’d never make this charge in a real battle. Somehow, reassuring them that this was only an option because it was a Cadet training exercise seemed to mollify the more pessimistic among the Minis.