by M. D. Cooper
Spittle flew from Barne’s mouth, spraying across Pence’s face. To her credit, the woman did look terrified of the sergeant, and ran to grab the next crate.
Barne turned toward Silva, his face nearly split in half with an ear-to-ear grin.
Silva couldn’t help but smile in response to the Sergeant Major.
Silva shook her head, looking over the platform.
Silva said, looking out beyond the edge of the platform and across the A1 Dock, where hundreds of other ships rested on platforms, cargo drones flitting between them.
Barne snorted.
Barne’s grin took on a cunning slant.
Silva groaned and shook her head.
* * * * *
Twenty minutes later, the Terminus was boosting away from the I2, on its way to join with the rest of the 7th Fleet’s 2nd Division.
Silva watched the ships that made up the R2D, as the mechs had begun to call it, with pride. Though the 1st Division would always have a place of pride in the hearts of Rika’s Mechs—which was well earned, since they’d seized the ships while they were beneath the cloud tops of a gas giant—it was only five ships.
The 2nd Division boasted fifty-nine ships, all but two being Nietzschean vessels. Three of those were dreadnaughts the size of the Fury Lance. In all honesty, it was a tiny smattering of ships when compared to the vast fleets that the ISF—and the Nietzscheans, for that matter—were able to produce, but the ships belonged to Rika’s Marauders, and of that they were all immensely proud.
While many of the mechs hadn’t met Rika in person, they all knew she was the reason none of them were slaves to Stavros’s Politica anymore. Each and every one of them knew the story of what Rika had done to save them—Silva made sure of that—and they were ready to follow their chosen commander into battle.
The ships of the 2nd Division were arrayed in a diamond formation, the dreadnaughts on the central axis, one at the forward end, one aft, practicing various close-formation maneuvers. Silva was no fleet tactician, but she understood that the dance the ships were involved in was more to practice coordination and precise maneuvering than something they would do in combat.
That many ships that close in actual battle would simply be an invitation for heavy beamfire and relativistic missiles.
“Looks good, doesn’t it,” Barne commented as he approached the forward holodisplay on the bridge. “Rika’s gonna split her knickers when she sees this.”
“Split her knickers? What does that even mean?”
“Uh…I guess it makes more sense for men.”
“Barne! You’re on the bridge, you should set an example.”
The sergeant snorted. “Trust me, I set the right kind of example. I’ve been at this a long time. Besides, I may be near the top of the heap, but I’m not an officer like you. I don’t have to be all spit and polish all the time.”
“I suppose,” Silva allowed. “You’re right, though. Rika is going to be more than a little happy to see all these ships.” She paused and glanced over her shoulder before continuing privately.
Silva watched the ships in the 2nd Division shift vectors and spread out into a flying X formation, the arms becoming convex, and ships moving along them until the X was four separate lines, reforming into the diamond afterward.
Barne laughed.
ATTACK FORMATION
STELLAR DATE: 10.12.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Battalion HQ, Memphis, Kansas
REGION: Blue Ridge System, Old Genevia, Nietzschean Empire
When Chase replied, his tone was terse, and Rika could hear a simmering rage.
Chase didn’t reply for a moment, then the command net updated to show his company’s first platoon—which he was accompanying—engaged with a Nietzschean armored column that also shouldn’t have been there.
Rika checked the order log and saw that Lieutenant Colonel Alice had altered the orders Rika had given Chase, sending his platoon on a new route to their objective.
She turned to where Alice stood in the corner of the basement, hunched over another holotable. “Colonel Alice, why did you send Chase down 42nd Street?”
Alice glanced up, no concern evident on her face. “It was a faster route, and the intel showed no enemy activity.”
Rika drew in a deep breath. “That’s because we had a transmission hiccup. If you’d actually looked at the scan data, you’d’ve seen that it found nothing there. The only thing we have from 37th to 51st street is the city database’s standard maps for that area.”
Alice finally found the grace to look embarrassed for her mistake. “Shit…it wasn’t flagged, Colonel Rika.”
Chase’s
reply took several seconds.
Rika was having similar thoughts regarding Alice. It was becoming clear that the reason the woman had survived the Genevian war with Nietzschea was an overabundance of caution, and just enough intelligence to avoid any truly dangerous missions.
It wasn’t quite enough to rate the woman as cowardly, but by Rika’s estimation, she was right on the cusp.
Considering that my orders and most of my supplies are coming from Tanis and the Allies right now, I really wonder if I could just send Alice packing, and tell Marauder HQ to pound sand if they complain, Rika thought as she pulled up options, looking for the best way to reinforce Chase.
Rika rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop a smile from forming on her lips. One thing she could always count on was Ferris messing up ranks.
she shot back, unable to help herself.
A laugh slipped past Rika’s lips.
Rika focused her holodisplay on the region that Chase was operating in. With the bad scan transmission, the only data they had was from the mechs on the ground and the drones they’d deployed.
Chase’s company HQ element was deployed with his first platoon, putting a total of eighty-four mechs on the streets of central Memphis. They were spread out along seven avenues, advancing north toward the center of the city.
A kilometer ahead of them, the roads intersected an east-west thoroughfare named Bridge Street. It cut a broad swath through the city, even sporting a park filled with rocks and water features on its central boulevard.
North of Bridge Street lay a section of the city consisting of older, stone buildings. Which was, of course, where most of the Niets were set up.
Drone readings from the squads on first platoon’s flanks showed that the Niets were moving east and west along Bridge Street, seeking to encircle the mechs.
Four red pins lit up on the display, noting the locations of the cannons. Then several dozen blue pins appeared, annotated by the estimated specs of the Nietzschean Goon-Mechs, or GMs—the Marauders’ term for squishies in mech frames somewhat like a K1R.
The Niets hadn’t used anything like the GM’s back in the war—not that Rika had ever encountered, at least—but they seemed to have decided that the heavy mech-like armor was good for taking poundings and holding positions.
Potter added.
Potter made a tsking sound, however.
Rika snorted.
The AI let out a sigh.
Rika laughed and closed the connection, summoning Leslie and Alice to her side.
“Here’s the situation with Chase and his first platoon,” Rika said as they looked down at the holotank. “We’re dropping B’muths and the ISF Marines; Niki is coordinating with Smalls to hit their cannons with kinetics. We need to take out the rest of their AA, too—once Fuller’s ‘toon takes the spaceport and gets us the Niets’s artillery deployments.”
“Shit,” Leslie muttered, her tail twitching at the tip—a sure-fire sign that she was annoyed. “That’s a tall order on the quick; especially with that many Niets out there. And here we thought Memphis would be an easy grab.”
“Doesn’t seem like there’s any such thing,” Alice replied, not a single note of apology in her voice for sending Chase into the lion’s den.
The city of Memphis was just one theatre of operation for Rika’s Marauders in the Blue Ridge System. Scarcliff and Crudge were up on Asmoian Station securing it with N Company. They were meeting with far less resistance up there than M company was seeing on the ground. Of course, N company had two platoons for a station with only ten million inhabitants, while M Company was taking on an entire planet with just four platoons.
The Marauders’ saving grace was that the Republic, Asora, and Capital were ea
sily holding back the small fleet of Nietzschean ships garrisoned in the Blue Ridge System. That left the Undaunted and Fury Lance free to help with the ground attacks—as their orbital paths permitted.
Dirtside, M Company’s second platoon was on the southern end of Memphis taking on a battalion of Niets at the spaceport, while third and fourth platoons were even further afield, securing targets on the far side of the planet.
“We don’t need a whole ‘toon to take the spaceport,” Alice said, highlighting first and second squad’s positions. “We could move these two up to reinforce First Platoon’s center.”
Rika shook her head, wondering how Alice was missing the urgency to take the Nietzschean CIC at the spaceport. “No, speed is of the essence. If we don’t get Smalls good targets yesterday, Ferris’s B’muths will just be smoking craters in the ground, and First Platoon will be even worse off. Fuller’s people need to keep their focus on the spaceport.”
Leslie nodded slowly. “That’s the right call. Half the Nietzschean supplies are there, as is their planetary operational command. Once Fuller gets that under control, we’ll hamper the Nietzschean communications more than a little.”
“So long as we can actually take the system-wide command center in that high-rise downtown,” Alice groused. “They’re going to have a lot more than just a few cannons.”
Alice cocked an eyebrow. “So, kinetics from Smalls?”
“Or missiles,” Rika replied with a shrug. “Whatever works best, depending on the targets.”
Leslie turned the holo around, looking at it from different angles, then shook her head. “Even if we drop Borden and his folks behind the Niets—north of Terrace Avenue, to distract them—the center of Chase’s line is still too weak…especially if the Niets bunch up in their center after the B’muths come into play.”