Runs In The Family

by Kevin Ikenberry

  Ulson nodded and called down into his tank, and then across to Livingston. “Stand to, ten minutes!”

  This would be the easy part, Mairin knew. Make sure the things you really need are present and serviceable, ensure your people have ample time to do the same thing, and most importantly have a plan. Mairin frowned as she traced her fingers on the top of the commander’s cupola. The TDF didn’t seem to be much on tactics. Most of the training she’d had in hypno simply didn’t apply to this situation.

  They had no cavalry.

  Cavalry.

  That’s it! Mairin smiled. Six vehicles. One scout platoon plus two vehicles. Be the eyes of the commander, fix the enemy, recon the battlefield, Mairin thought. Not that being the regimental reserve would be bad, but without a clear picture of the battlefield, what would the commander be thinking?

  All six magtanks came online at the precise moment Mairin specified. She slipped the crewman’s helmet in place. She keyed the microphone with her lip and chose their assigned frequency with her neurals. “Okay, troopers, this is how we’re gonna do business.”

  “Lieutenant Ulson is One. The vehicle to his right is Two. The vehicle to his left is Three.” She paused. “The vehicle to my right is Four, and the left is Five. I’m Six. Let’s see if you got it. This is a guidons call, when you hear it every vehicle chimes in with their number only. Got it? Guidons, this is Six.”

  “One.”

  “Two.”

  “Three.”

  “Four.”

  “Five.”

  Mairin smiled. “Okay troopers, welcome to the cavalry. Standby for drop information.” She dropped into the vehicle and keyed the intercom. “Interface?”

  <> The computer’s toneless female voice chimed.

  “Download drop information from the regimental commander,” Mairin ordered as she fastened her drop harness.

  <>

  Mairin bit back an epithet and chose another frequency, “Ticonderoga, this is Saber Six, Charlie Deck Four Forward ready for drop.”

  After what felt like an eternity, a voice finally answered. “We have no Saber Six on the signal board. This is the Officer of the Deck. Identify yourself.”

  “Captain Mairin Shields, in command of six vehicles, Charlie Deck, Space Four Forward. We were given no orders other than to prepare for drop from...,” she scanned for Coffey’s callsign, “Bullet Six.”

  Another long pause. “Standby, Captain.”

  Mairin tried to key in the planetary information for Wolc. “Conner, get me all planetary data aboard. Full download from CIC.”

  “I’m being blocked, ma’am.”

  Mairin buckled her drop harness as the CIC called. “Saber Six, this is Thunder Six, Lieutenant Commander Garrett. I’m to understand you’ve been left behind?”

  “That’s correct, sir. My troopers and I are ready for drop.”

  “Well then, let’s get you on your way. Standby for attitude correction and max G load deployment. Orbital parameters downloaded. Wish I could spare you a Rhino, but this will have to do. Full data download commencing. We’re going to put you down ten kilometers behind the regiment about center mass of the forces. Good luck, Captain.”

  Mairin smiled. “Scouts out, sir.” She leaned back in the harness and felt it lock automatically. She glanced at Conner. “Got our data?”

  Conner replied, “Already pushed out. Ready for drop.”

  Why haven’t we dropped? Mairin was about to ask when the entire world vibrated violently.

  * * * * *

  Twenty

  Munsen leaned back for a moment, allowing the situation to develop in his mind. Like any good staff officer, he was already working on three potential courses of action. The most dangerous course of action was simple; Coffey would do something catastrophically stupid and jeopardize the mission. The most likely course of action was that Coffey and his regiment would perform admirably, but that the mission would not be accomplished without a combined effort of fleet aerial and ground forces. In his mind, there was simply no other way that the Greys could be defeated.

  For little grey men, the kind Munsen remembered seeing as a boy in that movie about Devil’s Tower or something, the Greys developed and executed a blitzkrieg of combined ground and artillery forces. With their fire power matched with overwhelming numbers of ground assets, the Greys were apt to be a difficult enemy. A concentrated effort with a twentieth century mindset for combined arms warfare would be the best to combat the Greys. The only problem being that as humanity forgot how to conduct the business of war, they tactically regressed.

  Munsen shook his head as he watched the drop status. Most likely, Coffey would get onto the ground and deploy his forces in a Napoleonic formation and attempt a full frontal assault. Nevermind that the enemy is dug in, on higher ground, and fighting from behind every rock and tree. This must be how the Americans watched the British during the Revolutionary War. Are they really going to march up in formation? The powers that be chose a man full of bravado and ego to lead a regiment of fine troops, and four of his imprints, to certain annihilation.

  There was a chime from the armrest of his chair. He touched a button and a familiar voice asked, “They’ve dropped already?”

  Munsen rubbed his chin. There was stubble from a very early morning already on his face. “Just now. How is the situation on the ground?”

  “The Greys are dug in on the objective. They outnumber the regiment two and a half to one. They have a better standoff weapon in their particle beam technology, and the only thing going for us is the weather. But, we have to assume that the Greys are equally able to shoot, move, and communicate in heavy rain and fog.”

  “Or they are better,” Munsen snorted. “Did we even think to determine their capabilities before we charged into this?”

  The voice replied, “This is the Terran Defense Force, Colonel. We are the best-trained, best-equipped fighting force on the planet Earth. Surely nothing this universe has can defeat us?” The Supreme Commanding General of the TDF chuckled.

  Munsen felt a smile form on his lips and let the laugh it held escape. He felt better knowing that there were others, much higher ranking, that agreed with him. As quickly as the laugh came, the icy feeling of letting soldiers down crept from his stomach. “We’re going to lose a lot of good troops.”

  “You’ve led me to believe that we will lose less by making Coffey activate those six vehicles and deploy them.”

  Munsen sighed. “He’s ordered them to assume a position as the reserve element. Completely away from contact and action. By all appearances, he’s left those vehicles without the proper communications keys and crypto to determine their situation and how they can assist the main effort. They’re out there in the breeze.”

  There was a pause. “My notes from our last conversation state that you feel, based on observation, that Captain Shields will not remain complacent, and she will develop any situation, tactical or not, to her advantage. Do you really see her sitting still with six of our newest combat vehicles? Especially when she knows she could be making a difference?”

  “Combat does funny things to people.”

  “And you and I have never seen that, have we? It’s easy for us to armchair the war effort, but despite the lack of combat experience, we can’t stop trying to take care of soldiers, especially those out there fighting, Colonel.” The voice paused for a moment. “Don’t ever forget that.”

  “I feel like the only guy in the armed forces without combat experience right now.”

  “That’s your gut talking, Thom.”

  Munsen nodded. “I know that. It doesn’t mean that I have to like it.”

  Nothing came from the speaker for a few seconds, enough time for Munsen to wonder if he was about to be replaced. “How long until they reach the surface?”

  Munsen glanced at his display. “A little over ten minutes based on their trajectory.
”

  “In that time, what can you do to influence the battle given what you’ve told me, Colonel?”

  “We have to tie in the air assets.” Munsen tapped his fingers on the chair idly. “If we allow Coffey to fight this battle his way, the entire regiment won’t get within a kilometer of the objective.”

  There was a heavy sigh. “How are you going to get Shields to that objective?”

  “I’m hoping she does that for herself.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  Munsen gave it a second thought. She would. Everything pointed to the fact that she would respond. How she’d do so was unknown. They would know in a few hours, wouldn’t they? “She’s going to find her way to the objective. Our job is to make sure she gets the support she needs. God knows that Coffey isn’t going to ask for it.”

  “Then what do you want me to do, Colonel?”

  Munsen thought for a moment. He looked across the room at his silent partner. Conyers sat with her hands in her lap, waiting for him or the Supreme Commanding General to speak to her. It was time to up the ante. “I think Mairin Shields needs a roommate.”

  * * * * *

  Twenty-One

  As the drop bay fell through twenty thousand feet above ground level, carbon impregnated parachutes deployed and pulled each of the six magtanks from their racks. With repulsors switched on and in the landing configuration, the vehicles would essentially glide to the planet’s surface and come to rest at their mission programmed altitude of four feet. The magtanks would then drop into combat configurations and be ready for tactical movement.

  Mairin opened the commander’s hatch at ten thousand feet as the one hundred fifty-ton tank fell towards Wolc. Mairin didn’t like the terrain. Too much rainforest. Too dense. Not enough open space for maneuver. “Conner, we got solid comms with everyone?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Get me Bullet Six.”

  “You’re not gonna like it, ma’am.” Conner shrugged and plugged the command frequency into her helmet.

  “-- is Bullet Six. Who authorized that drop?”

  “Bullet Six, Saber Six,” Mairin called. “Drop order came from you, over.”

  Ten seconds of silence. “Saber Six,” he screeched, “take up a position as the battalion reserve. Maintain radio silence. Stay put. Is that clear?”

  Mairin looked at the grid coordinates fed into her system. The reserve position now some thirty kilometers behind the advancing force. Stagnant. “Understood, Saber Six out.”

  She chinned the frequency for her vehicles, “Okay people, you heard those orders. We’re soldiers and supposed to follow orders. Those are the rules. Well, I’m not gonna sit us where we can’t do some good. We’ll sit down, run a pre-combat check and move out. I’ll send you a plan when we hit the dirt. Six out.”

  The tactical situation favored the Greys. Coffey had moved the regiment into a wide valley and pressed downhill toward a communications node. Most likely, a heavily defended communications node. The only real avenue of approach into the site was the valley Coffey now advanced his one hundred magtanks into side-by-side, like a parade formation. Mairin looked at the terrain surrounding the objective. They’ll have guns up there on the high ground, and if they’ve got any type of indirect fire, the regiment will be hammered well outside of their engagement range.

  Crest the ridgeline to the east, maneuver up the military crest on the backside of the hill. Screen the force and attempt to get to the eastern edge of the objective before Coffey does. It’s the only thing that can save them. But what about us? A flight of exocraft streaked the atmosphere above her. We’ve got to be on our guard. Guard. Holy shit! “Conner, punch up the GUARD frequency.”

  “The what?”

  “The GUARD frequency. All aircraft monitor it. We might be able to get some help that way.”

  Conner worked the computers for a moment. “Located it. Are you sure about this? It’s UHF!” His dumbfounded voice made Mairin chuckle.

  “Do it,” Mairin said. How are we gonna do this? Mairin drew symbols from memory not her own, and it took her a minute to understand them as she made them. Just like scratching out football plays in the dirt. Whatever, Grandpa. We’re here, and the regiment is here. What the hell are they doing? She punched the send button, transmitting the situation to her vehicles. “We got the intel yet?”

  “On your screen now,” Conner replied.

  Mairin studied for a moment. The screen would work. She transmitted the graphics to her vehicles and keyed her radio. “Guidons, Saber Six. You’ve got the ground situation. We’re going to screen the regiment to the east. We’re going to have to haul ass. As soon as we’re in repulsor range, engage at gear five and push hard. One has the lead, wedge formation. How copy?”

  They checked in, Ulson with a loud “Roger that!”

  Mairin allowed herself a smile. She chinned over to the GUARD frequency. “Ticonderoga, Saber Six. Flash traffic for Thunder Six.”

  Ten seconds later, Garrett’s voice came back. “Saber Six, new freq package uploading now. Five seconds.”

  She saw Conner work the frequency into the radio and she chinned to the frequency five seconds later. She heard, “Saber Six, GUARD is for aircraft emergencies only, not tactical vehicles. What can I do for you?”

  Mairin frowned. “Thunder Six, roger. I have no support from TDF forces. Apologize for GUARD. Break.” She unkeyed the microphone for a moment and then squeezed it again. “Relaying a SITREP to you now.” She pushed the transmit button and her situation report went out. “I need full intel on the tactical situation. I do not have access to the Oscar and India net.” The operations and intelligence network was reserved for conversations about the current situation only. Without information from the prescribed TDF network, she was essentially blind. Not to mention being all alone.

  “Saber Six, you are not where your commander said you would be. Is there something you want to tell me?”

  Mairin frowned. “I’m not going to sit here and watch, Thunder Six.”

  “Saber Six, Thunder Six. Roger, all. Be advised the admiral concurs. We have no contact with Bullet Six. Got your SITREP. Intel download coming in sixty seconds. I’ve got a squadron of exos I’ll give to you for close air. Frequency inbound now. Good hunting. Thunder Six out.”

  Conner gave a thumbs-up. “Got that freq. Button three.”

  Mairin nodded. The repulsors spun up quickly. The vehicle leveled out and began to glide forward at over two hundred kilometers per hour. The thickening atmosphere would slow them down to the maximum one hundred thirty. With ground effect at the surface, they’d be down to one hundred five klicks per hour. At the surface, the magtanks slid quickly into position and spread out as much as the terrain allowed. The thicker the vegetation, the closer the tanks would have to be to each other. Definitely not a tactical advantage. She glanced at the situation display and frowned. Not only was Coffey still in a line abreast formation, they were sitting still in the valley and trying to engage the Greys with their weapons at standoff distances. Not smart.

  Mairin partially opened her hatch, allowing moist, flowery air to roar into the cramped turret. After weeks of shipboard life, there was nothing finer. She took a deep breath and considered the situation. A numerically superior force in the defense on dominating terrain. Our weapons are more effective than theirs, but we can still run out of ammunition, and they have particle beams. Christ, they are sitting there baiting us. She pushed the tactical display aside. The plan to screen the regiment was toast, but they could at least move up the ridge and overwatch the battle. Mairin bit her lip and stood up in the hatch to look out over the terrain. Trees rose up into the sky, making it more difficult to see her tanks as they slowed down.

  “Guidons, Saber Six. Repulsors to treetop level. Spread the formation.”

  Seconds later they were cruising the treetops at eighty kilometers per hour. The sensation of speed and the wind in her face brought a smile. Almost like flying, she thought. Ap
proaching a connecting ridgeline, Mairin had an idea. Forget the screen, we can come in behind them.

  “Driver, hard right. Follow that ridgeline, but don’t get anywhere near the crest.”

  The magtank swung hard to the right and the rest of her vehicles followed. Mairin looked into the tank and realized something was wrong. Know your troops! She didn’t even know the driver’s name! “Driver, what’s your name?”

  Over the noise of the vehicle, she heard him chuckle. “Ma’am, I’m Private Booker. Nice to meet you.”

  “You too,” Mairin said and shook her head. “Anybody want to tell me what else I’m missing?”

  She saw Conner and Lee turn to her and grin. They both shook their heads. The interface’s computer-synth voice responded. <>

  * * * * *

  Twenty-Two

  On the bridge of the Ticonderoga, Lieutenant Commander Donovan Garrett struggled to maintain his temper. Acting as the fleet aviation battle captain was much more difficult than flying his beloved Rhino. Cursing his luck and the necessity of “broadening assignments,” Garrett listened with more patience than he felt possible as a Fleet Signal Commander lectured him on the structure of command frequencies and their proper usage. Bucking for promotion was not something Garrett regularly tried to do. He’d rather be flying. As the battle captain, Garrett held a position where his authority could only be challenged by Admiral Nather, the group commander. In this case, Garrett knew the “Old Man” well enough that losing his composure on a senior officer would be justified.

  “Did you hear what I said, Lieutenant Commander?” the man asked. Condescension dripped from the fat man’s frown. The full use of Garrett’s rank was unnecessary by protocol. In his fifteen years of service with the Fleet, Garrett knew the real reason was to put him in his place as a junior officer.