Return to Sol
“My Amir, the Sayf has reported engine failure,” officer Sayhan said. “He is falling behind.”
“Then he will be left behind,” Serkan said. “Insha’Allah. If he does not catch up with us then he will be destroyed to keep him from falling to the infidels. He lacks the ability to use the wormhole.”
“He will be told,” Sayhan said.
Serkan watched Sayhan. He seemed efficient and might make a good replacement for the fool Masam.
He planned to make transition shortly. Another patrol vessel had joined the first and if it had the same capacity then he was over matched. Dying would accomplish nothing. The Caliphate had the force to come here and destroy them he was sure, but the Caliph would have to commit the forces.
How had they gained so much strength so fast unless those two ships were all they had?
Serkan watched the the second ship approach the wreckage of the ship he had been pursuing. It looked to be dead. If Allah willed it then the crew would be just as dead. Let these infidels see their fate.
When he returned they would feel the wrath of Allah and the Caliph would be pleased he had discovered where the kafir of New Alamo had gone.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Earth, Philippine Jungle
“Fire for effect,” Leonessa said, hunkering down to stare at the surrounding jungle. Her heads-up display showed a rough floating diagram of the nearby terrain but she couldn’t see beyond twenty meters in any direction because of the thick jungle.
“Shot over,” the fire direction officer reported.
“Shot out,” Leonessa replied, listening and glancing up at the trees as if she could see past them.
Her heads-up display lit up showing incoming artillery fire and then the icon turned to green, indicating friendly, which meant slightly less dangerous than incoming enemy artillery fire.
“Heads down people,” she said over the platoon frequency. “It is ours but that doesn’t mean it will hit where we want it. Defective short rounds can kill you just as easily as enemy rounds.”
The squad leaders acknowledged the order and passed it on.
Seconds later the next valley lit up with the hammering of artillery fire. This close to an artillery barrage it was frightening, not something people got used to. The ground shook and if their climate-controlled helmets did not protect their hearing, they would suffer a hearing loss. It felt like an earthquake as the jungle roared. Dust, pollen and leaves filled the air. The chattering of birds and animals was silenced by the hellish fire storm being unleashed nearby.
Not for the first time, she was thankful an artillery drone was high in the sky, tagging her position and the suspected enemy position. It allowed the artillery officers to be more efficient and required less input from her. The important thing is they knew where she was through IFF (Identification Friend or Foe) signal and would try to avoid dropping rounds on her people.
She listened to the artillery walk across the valley twice. It fell silent for about twenty seconds and then began to hammer again. It was frightening and Leonessa grit her teeth, telling herself time and again the canon-cockers wouldn’t screw up and the artillery rounds, even though they were made by the lowest bidder, wouldn’t fall short.
After several minutes of hell fire, a silence fell across the jungle.
“Fire mission complete,” the fire direction officer reported, and the jungle continued to hold its breath. Relief passed through Leonessa.
“Aye,” Leonessa said. “Fire mission complete. Standby for B-D-A,” she said, referring to a battle damage assessment. Although they could do an assessment with their drone, it was still always better to have boots on the ground confirm what a drone thought it could see.
“Pop a drone Sutton,” Leonessa said to her technical specialist, glad it was over. Around her, other Marines stuck up their head.
“Aye ma'am,” Sutton said and unboxed it from his pack.
A small infantry portable drone was thrown into the air by one rifleman and Sutton sent it flying higher and over the ridge. Leonessa patched into the video feed with her heads-up display, watching the ground as it glided over the ridge and into the next valley.
The next valley over was full of shattered trees thrown about like fallen match sticks, misplaced boulders and dirt. Some small fires burned but would not last long in this tropical jungle. It almost seemed humid enough to swim through. Few trees still stood, defying the Marine artillery barrage, but they were not unscathed.
Then she saw the bodies, or pieces of them. A shattered AK-38 here, a twisted RPG there, half a helmet here, with part of the head still inside and some scraps of uniform there. It had been a good strike.
“Squad leaders,” Leonessa said. “Move them to the top of the ridge. I want first and second squads to provide a base of fire; third squad does a sweep for Intel and survivors.”
“Aye ma'am,” the squad leaders echoed. The Marines started moving. Leonessa figured they could see into the valley to cover third squad with most of the valley being stripped of cover and vegetation. It would take them several hours to sweep the valley. It was not big but the going would be slow and difficult.
They were near the top of the ridge when her heads-up display again flashed incoming fire, and it switched to red, enemy.
“Everyone down!” Leonessa yelled diving to the ground herself. “Down!"
The Marines hit the ground, looking for the lowest spot available. Several began collecting in a stream bed nearby. Seeing them there, Leonessa leapt up and covered the few feet to collapse in the stream bed with them. Dirty water, moss, and mud flew everywhere.
Then the Marines experienced the receiving end of a mortar strike.
“Attention Charlie-six actual,” a voice said. “This is Whisky-niner. We see you are under fire, triangulating enemy location and returning fire. Keep your head down while we get them off your back.”
“Copy that Whisky-niner,” Leonessa said. “Much appreciated. Speed is appreciated.”
The enemy strike did not last near as long as the Marine strike had.
“Abby bastards,” Leonessa heard over the common frequency.
“Ammo casualty reports,” she said once she was sure no more mortars were coming.
“Charlie-six, this is Whisky-niner, you should be clear. You yell we shell.”
“Copy Whisky-niner,” Leonessa said. “Thanks for covering our six.”
“Semper Fi, Charlie-six, Whisky-niner out.”
“Semper Fi, Charlie-six out,” Leonessa said. Sitting up and looking around her. There was still plenty of vegetation around, hiding most of her platoon.
“We lucked out eltee,” staff Sergeant Becker said. “No casualties, except Baker in first crapped his pants again.”
“Contact right!” a voice yelled out and gun fire shattered the sounds of the jungle. More weapons joined in as Leonessa ran to the right to see what was going on.
“Sutton, I need a drone up now!” she yelled leaping over a fallen tree and plowing through a massive spider web. If she had been out of armor, it would have bothered her but US Marine battle suits were sealed and climate controlled.
Second squad was on the right, led by Sergeant Ramirez.
“What do you have Ramirez,” Leonessa asked. She slowed down when a burst of fire cut apart the tree above her. Definitely an AK-38.
“I think maybe a squad Lieutenant,” Ramirez said. “I’m deploying my people on line. They were traveling in column but they are spreading out now.”
“Allahu Akbar!” the enemy screamed. A hell of a lot more voices than a squad echoed from the jungle and the firing intensified.
“Chiang! I need your squad to reinforce second. Knox, I want your squad to guard our rear and flanks. Sutton, where’s my damned drone?”
“Whisky-niner, Whisky-niner, this is Charlie-six actual,” Leonessa said. “I need a line of fire, horizontal to me, a hundred and fifty meters that way, danger close” she said pointing. S
ensors in her suit calculated her location and the direction she was pointing and sent it to the fire direction center, which tagged Marine suits via their identification friend/foe beacon so they knew where they could NOT fire. “I say again danger close.”
“Copy Charlie-six, shot over, danger close,” the artillery officer said as if he were about to fall asleep.
More screams of ‘Allahu’akbar’ rang out and again the firing intensified. She could hear Marine weapons firing non-stop. More Marine weapons joined in as Chiang and his squad arrived.
Keeping low Leonessa tried to get closer.
“This is bad eltee,” Becker, her platoon sergeant, said. “We are taking casualties.”
Leonessa stopped her forward advance behind a big tree and checked the platoon roster. Three, now four lights were red showing no life signs and three were amber showing injured.
“Sergeant Ramirez is down Lieutenant,” Corporal Velsor said. “I'm taking over. We need help. They are trying to rush us. Dobson, grenades! Dobson throw fucking grenades!” the line clicked as Velsor changed frequencies.
Grenades hammered the lines, the enemy was close. The explosions and gunfire drowned out screams and cries as she tried to make sure her Marines were in the best position they could be.
“Splash over,” the artillery officer said. Leonessa saw incoming friendly fire on her heads-up display.
“Incoming friendly fire,” she said over the platoon frequency but the amount of firing did not stop until the jungle exploded. This time the explosions were closer, louder, and more terrifying.
Leonessa rolled over on her back and checked her heads-up display. Marine IFF (Identification Friend/Foe) beacons displayed their position relative to her. She scanned the lines. They were on line and Chiang was still moving up his people. The Marines were still firing and throwing grenades but the enemy was pushing through the artillery fire. Chiang and Velsor had it under control now, but they would argue the point if Leonessa gave them the chance.
“Charlie-six this is Kilo-three actual,” a voice said on her net. It was her company commander. “You will be getting some mortar support here shortly.”
“Contact rear!” a voice yelled out. Leonessa checked her grid. It was Hertzberg in first squad. Weapons fire began to their rear.
“We are under attack from the rear, Lieutenant,” Sergeant Knox said over the platoon command channel.
Too many people talking at once.
“Copy Kilo-three, I need fire for effect in this direction, rear one hundred meters,” she said pointing. “Danger close,” she said and switched to the platoon channel. “Chiang, get a team to reinforce Knox. Knox, I need you to circle wagons and stand by for danger close mortar fire.”
“Becker,” Leonessa said looking around, trying to ignore the gun fire chewing up the tree she was hiding behind. “I need you to take over with Arty. I want a ring of fire around us. We are getting mortar support from company. We use that for danger close.”
“Copy that eltee,” Becker said. “I’m on it.”
Laying there with rounds zipping overhead Leonessa concentrated on moving her people into position. Trying to create a perimeter. The squad leaders and team leaders knew what they were doing but sometimes they needed another set of eyes to change the location of a saw gunner or rifleman to a better position. As Marines died, gaps in the perimeter were being created.
“Sutton! Where’s my damn drone?” she said.
“Sutton’s dead eltee,” Becker said. “Took a stray round. His last drone is also busted.”
“Copy that,” Leonessa said, right now his death was just a fact, she would feel bad later but she should have noticed earlier. Artillery had a drone in the area but patching into it did not tell her a much since it could not see into the triple canopy jungle.
Twenty minutes later, the ring of fire was still slamming the jungle around them and mortars were pounding. The firing had stopped as the Marines ran out of targets. The mortars stopped to conserve rounds and there were no more cries of ‘Allahu’akbar’. Someone was screaming but Leonessa didn’t know if it was a Marine or one of the enemy.
“Becker, have arty cease, get me an AC report,” she said and got up to walk the perimeter. There was a real threat of an enemy soldier playing dead but her people had to see her up and active, in control. The AC Report would provide an Ammo and Casualty report in more detail than what she saw on her heads-up display. “Expect an attack the second the arty stops though.”
The jungle had changed over the last twenty minutes. Smoke choked the jungle and the occasional fire tried with futility to burn the wet vegetation. Nearby a monkey missing its head lay on the ground clutching for the branches above. All around her trees had shredded and chewed up by gunfire or shrapnel. She made her way to the nearest casualty.
“Squad leaders,” she said scanning the perimeter. “We will circle the wagons. Reposition your SAW gunners, give them a rifleman to dig them a fighting hole. Remaining riflemen are to help with casualties or need to dig in. Tell everyone to dig deep.”
She listened to the squad leaders or acting squad leader sound off.
“Charlie-six this is Kilo-three,” her company commander said. “Be advised I have a casualty count. Battalion is sending a rapid response platoon to your location to reinforce and help you evac. I’ll be moving the rest of the company up as soon as I can. Hang tough. Battalion is also tasking close air support.”
“Copy that Kilo-three.” Leonessa said. The adrenaline was leaving her system and leaving her so tired. She popped a stim and felt some energy return. There was a lot of work to do as she helped with casualties and making sure the perimeter was secure. Now was the time to be careful, people might fall asleep on her as the adrenaline ebbed and the exertion took its toll.
“Eltee,” Becker said. “We have ten killed in action, five seriously wounded and about three walking wounded. Doc has a place setup we are moving the wounded to. I’ve also called in a medevac.”
“Copy that Staff,” Leonessa said. She wanted to cry but would not allow it. Her platoon could now be called combat ineffective with over twenty-five percent casualties. “Thank you.”
Artillery fire began again a kilometer away.
“Charlie-six this is Whisky-niner, come in.”
“Go Whisky-niner,” Leonessa said knowing it is never good news when artillery calls you.
“Be advised we are picking up a large force moving in your direction. Estimated at least a company in size. We are providing suppression and interdiction fire. Don’t drop your guard because there could be an entire battalion sneaking up on you. We are scrutinizing your area and got lucky.”
“Copy that, thank you,” Leonessa said then changed to the platoon command frequency.
“Okay people, stay frosty. Pop stims if you need to. We have more Abu Sayyaf coming at us. We also have reinforcements coming from the rapid response platoon and the rest of the company is moving up to join us. Leaders, make sure they are drinking water and awake.”
Leonessa took off her helmet to see things with her own eyes. Her implants kept her linked to the communication systems, and she still had limited access to her heads-up display through her optical implants. The first thing to hit her was the heat, the second was the smell. She almost put the helmet back on, but even with the smell, the helmet felt claustrophobic and uncomfortable.
Sweat poured down her face the second her helmet came off.
“Inbound birds,” one Marine reported.
Leonessa looked up and saw Falcon-27 transports sliding into the jungle on their magrav drives, pushing aside trees and branches to get lower. Once they were low enough, Marines leapt out their hatches. Weapons ready, they looked sharp, fresh and ready. Their IFF beacons showed they were from another battalion. Their lieutenant was one of the first ones off and Leonessa approved. This was a potentially hot landing zone and leadership by example was a Marine hallmark.
The lieutenant gave his Marines some directio
ns and then sauntered up to her with his platoon sergeant. Staff Sergeant Becker came up to stand beside Leonessa.
Seeing her helmet off, the new lieutenant took off his. His eyes were sharp and his hair was nothing more than stubble like hers. His nose wrinkled at the smell and he smiled at Leonessa. She liked his smile and his eyes. There was something about him and she wanted to know more. He had a familiarity she could not place. Like he was a good friend she hadn’t seen in a while, but she couldn’t place the name.
“We are here to help,” he said. “Name is second Lieutenant Luke Kishi.”
Another Falcon-27 slid down to the ground near the casualty collection point and navy corpsman leaped out to assist.
“Contact front!” one of her people yelled out and rounds zipped overhead. They both slammed their helmets back onto their heads and turned to the firing.
“You were here first,” Luke said. “Where do you want us?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Talk with Doc
Leonessa sat up, now wide-awake, to see people moving around her in the poorly lit chamber. The dream was still very real and vivid in her mind's eye. The nasty stink of burned jungle and human flesh was fading slowly and oddly, the comfortable warmth of Lieutenant Kishi’s smile relaxed her. One day she would like to meet someone like that. For now, it would only be in her dreams.
Exiled to an alien world would probably prevent her from finding the special someone, a depressing thought, but she had her memories and dreams if nothing else. Love was probably overrated anyways.
She looked over the survivors. They were not a platoon, just fifteen frightened survivors and most of the enlisted had only received rudimentary weapons training. They weren’t Jupiter Alliance Marines, or even poorly trained security personnel. They were just frightened, injured technical specialists.
She looked at Doc Benoit. He sat there quietly tapping away on his hand-held computer. He saw her looking at him and his smile reached his eyes. He was an older man, easily over a hundred and most likely an original refugee from Earth, although he looked to be in his forties. He was a good Doctor though and had spent a great deal of his adult life in the profession. Gentle and kind he was an easy person to talk with and his presence was a comfort. If anyone deserved to survive it was him.
The Return: The Conglomerate Trilogy (Volume 1) Page 13