by JR Handley
He didn’t answer, frustrating Nhlappo. He likely assumed it was rhetorical, so she let it drop.
On the fourth level, they found rows upon rows of shelves with bigger tablets than they’d found earlier, and computer terminals sitting on intricately carved synth-wood desks. Everywhere she looked, there were strange carvings in a language her AI couldn’t reliably see or decipher. Visually, it was similar to what they’d found on the Makoni structures on Serendine but with enough differences that she assumed it must be a different Makoni language or dialect.
Her recordings were stopped by the call from the Marine colonel at the forefront of the push into the library.
“Field Marshal, we have an unknown number of enemy human Marines in a fortified position. They’ve taken advantage of the ramps between levels. It’s a natural chokepoint, and they’re using the synth-wood for cover. The barricade looks crude, and I see movement on the overhead row of shelves. Do we assault the objective or offer them the chance to surrender?”
The call was tough, forcing Nhlappo to internally balance her distrust of anyone who stood with Spartika against the chance that this was, in fact, their first opportunity at defection. In the end, her desire to kill as few of the Marines under her mutinous former XO won.
“Give them a chance to surrender, but don’t let them wait too long before deciding.”
After issuing her decision, Nhlappo headed towards the newly established chokepoint. Her Marines were in contact with the enemy, and she knew she had to put them down quickly so they couldn’t destroy the potential treasure trove of information. When she was meters away, she received an update from the colonel.
“The enemy has surrendered,” Colonel Gupte said, “and there’re more of them than we thought. I’m taking a battalion to oversee their disarming and detention. I’ll update–”
Boom!
The colonel never finished his sentence, as an explosion rolled through the battalion of Marines attempting to capture the surrendering enemies.
Field Marshal Marchewka was knocked on her arse by a fireball roaring through the assembled Marines in Task Force Justice. After returning to consciousness, Nhlappo regained her footing and scanned her surroundings. There was nothing left of the enemy fortifications Colonel Gupte had sent images of, nor of the battalion he’d taken to assume control of the enemy. The rest of the regiment had been knocked on their collective arses like she had, and her AI, Brinx, told her more of those closest to the front had died, as well. Overall, her attempt to offer quarter resulted in the loss of thirty-three percent of the regiment.
Roaring her frustration over the ringing in her ears, Nhlappo assessed the situation. Her vision was blurry, and the ringing in her ears meant she likely had a concussion. The crack on her helmet visor made accessing her HUD difficult, so she couldn’t filter out the smoke and get a clearer picture of the area around her. She knew that the task force had to be wary of a follow-up attack, and without any cover to fall back to, they were sitting ducks. Assaulting through the objective made sense and fit with her training, but she knew it was dangerous. Reluctantly, she gave the only command she could in this circumstance.
“Charge!”
Grabbing her carbine from its place on her back, Nhlappo activated her assault cutters and rushed forward. She ran, assisted by the thrusters on the feet of her combat suit, while her AI assured her that her Marines were following. While she looked for more enemies to punish for the cowardly murder of her troops, she mentally reviewed the data sent by the colonel before he died.
The armored enemy troops were moving in wooden fashion, almost as if the suits were on autopilot. But that isn’t possible, thought Nhlappo. Had Spartika messed with their combat pharmaceuticals? she wondered. Why would they just stand around, waiting to blow themselves up? Such cowardice en masse didn’t happen in her Marine Corps. She could understand a fight to the bitter end over surrendering, but to kill yourself like that was low, even for that traitorous Aux. The only thing that made sense, the only way she could make it fit her experience with her fellow Marines, was if the Aux wench had used New Order tactics. Someone had set off the explosives from a safe distance. Someone had murdered a lot of good Marines.
“You’ve got much to answer for, Spartika,” Nhlappo said to herself, confident in the privacy of her combat helmet.
“Anderson, get the engineers working to make sure this facility is structurally sound. I want answers.”
— CHAPTER 20 —
Early Afternoon, Post-Revival Day 210
Outside Outpost Charlie 1, Cardamine Island
Commander, 6907th TAC RGT, TF Vengeance, Human Legion
The trip across the wintery tundra was grueling, even for Colonel Lance Scipio, who was born and raised on the island. It was several degrees colder on the island than Serendine had been, and the effect was distracting. The sun glinted off the rocks, creating shadows that hid dangerous holes in the soil. A few of the Marines lost their balance on the uneven stones that littered the route to the outpost. Some even twisted their ankles, despite their armor. Realizing the danger that they would be in if too many Marines were injured, Xena stepped in.
Lance, our sensor arrays are showing nothing. The scout drones flying in advance of us show no enemy presence. Speed is of the essence. Order your Marines to ride the damn gravtanks, already. Were you waiting for an engraved invitation?
Burning under the scathing criticism of his command qualities and initiative, Lance passed the order to Field Marshal Marchewka for final approval. It was instantly granted, and the task force began picking up speed. The Marines were on edge, watching for any sign of threat, but the trip from the landing zone to the outskirts of the abandoned Outpost Charlie 1 was uneventful. When they were within carbine range of the outpost, the task force dismounted and went tactical in its approach.
Once everyone was in position, the task force commander ordered the scout drones deployed as everyone waited impatiently. It soon became clear that nothing was amiss, and the order was given to move out. The outpost had to be secured that day.
“Listen up, 6907. Don’t let the need to quickly capture this outpost make you do anything stupid. Move out smartly – stay alert, stay alive. You know the drill. We’ve done this too many times under fire. And for God’s sake, don’t shoot unless you know what you’re shooting at. We could have allied Marines on ice or recently de-iced, and I won’t tolerate friendly-fire incidents. Commanders, take charge of your units and move out!”
— CHAPTER 21 —
Early Afternoon, Post-Revival Day 210
Outside Outpost Charlie 2, Cardamine Island
Human Legion Attaché, TF Retribution, Human Legion
The dust had finally settled, though the groans of the two Sangurian regiments dying in the tunnel collapse still congested the LBNet. In the chaos that followed, the regimental commander for the 5th Regiment, 1st Army Group from Akoni City, had been killed in an accident, trying to blast the rubble clear so they could begin rescue efforts. Without their regimental commander, the battalion officers had turned to Captain Alger Messer because of his position on Field Marshal Marchewka’s staff. He wasn’t thrilled; he’d never wanted to command a regiment but knew that his failing to rise to the occasion would cost Marines their lives.
He had to establish some control out of the chaos surrounding the loss of so many of their brethren. First, he used his override codes to isolate the Sangurians from the battle network. Since the 5th had been the ones who remained topside, it was easier to give them a new channel so they could communicate effectively. With the communications situation fixed, he reported to his commander.
“Field Marshal, we’ve lost the two Sangurian regiments. They rushed into a tunnel opened by the mines. It was a trap, and it took out all of them. We don’t know how many, if any, survived. We lost the commander of the 5th when he rushed in to attempt to assist the wounded. We’ve secured the perimeter but don’t have the manpower to attempt a search and rescue
for survivors. How should we proceed, sir?”
There was a moment of silence, and Messer began wondering if his message had made it through.
“Captain, where are the battalion commanders?” asked Marchewka.
“Sir, they deferred command to me as your representative,” Messer said, trying to keep his frustration at the situation to himself.
“The battalion commanders deferred to you? Congratulations, Colonel, you’re now the regimental commander. Hold what you’ve got. Wait for reinforcements. You’ll have two regiments to reconstitute the task force as quickly as we can get them to you. If anything leaves the outpost, shoot first. Marchewka, out.”
— CHAPTER 22 —
Midafternoon, Post-Revival Day 210
Outpost Charlie 1, Cardamine Island
Commander, 7th BN, 6907th TAC RGT, TF Vengeance, Human Legion
Outpost Charlie 1 was almost a mirror of the outpost Lieutenant Colonel Tendaji Conteh had captured on Serendine, with the same sterile gray polycrete austerity. The floor plan matched its cousins on Serendine, as well, making their assault easier. The same design and layout, where function trumped form, he observed, and everything liberally coated in the same dust. Outpost Charlie 1 sat on the northernmost part of Cardamine Island, the topside surrounded by rocky forests and wintery tundra. Upon entering, they’d sent out drones, and they found exactly what they expected to see: a long-abandoned structure that seemed to have been set to standby mode, just waiting for someone to awaken it.
The sally ports were open as if waiting for them. Without the hatch closed, the weathertight seals didn’t shield it from the weather, but the secondary doors had been sealed. The guard stations at the entrance sat abandoned. They’d just made it to the second level of barracks when the hairs on the back of Tendaji’s neck rose and began to tingle. It’s too easy, thought Tendaji. They wrecked the place, so we know they’ve been here. Scanning the map on the heads-up display inside his helmet, he saw that they should be on another garrison level. Nothing but empty barracks, all abandoned when his friend and commander was a kid. Not wanting to contemplate how long ago that was, he put his focus back on his troops and the readings from the command packet his AI was showing him.
“Steady, Marines, steady,” he told his troops. “We don’t want to give the enemy a good target.”
The Marines of 7th Battalion seemed to understand his frustration, as each company under him began to more aggressively enforce unit cohesion. They’d just exited the helical ramp that opened onto the fifth level when he heard sabot fire. His scouts had come under fire, and his lead element rushed to join the party. He knew he could ask for a report, but he didn’t want to rely on hearsay. He briefly considered viewing the video feeds of the Marines in contact, but instead sprinted towards the fire while his AI fed him pertinent data.
A sabot whizzed by his head, ricocheted off the wall, and slammed into his forearm. Hot pain radiated throughout his left side, but a quick status report from his AI told him it hadn’t penetrated his armor.
Reaching his Marines, who were moving to contact as they’d been trained, Tendaji quickly took stock of the battlespace. Insurgents blocked the central corridor in one of the barrack habdisks. Tendaji knew that they had a rear exit to fall back to if the outpost mirrored Serendine’s like Lance suspected. He couldn’t tell if they had reinforcements hidden in the individual rooms, and the risk for a layered ambush was high.
The enemy had thrown together hasty barricades from anything that was handy, though Tendaji knew it didn’t have to be pretty to get the job done. Insurgent crews were in several covered locations with their weapons. A quick scan told Tendaji the enemy had blown holes in the interior walls of the structure, and their engineers used the freed rocks to build walls. He knew those fortifications wouldn’t hold up to his Marines, but the enemy had crafted the ideal situation for an orderly withdrawal. If they continued to fall back to more of these positions, Spartika’s Marines would inflict heavy casualties.
The situation was alarming, and the enemy was using the defensive chokepoints built into the facility against them. They’d have to traverse a narrow passageway that linked the compartmentalized outpost. Each one of those was intentionally designed to allow a defending force to inflict maximum carnage. Even more disturbing, the insurgents behind their barricade moved in concert, as if they were automatons. While not unheard of, it was certainly odd, and raised red flags for him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, so he filed it away for later and moved on to the more pressing threat, their sabots.
The enemy Marines in front of him were all armed with the standard SA-71 carbines, and he knew they had to be Spartika’s insurgents. Tendaji quickly formulated a plan before speaking on the battalion’s LBNet command channel. His enthusiasm for the fight spilled over, causing his accent to thicken. He had to take a calming breath and repeat himself.
“Delta Company, deploy your grenadiers forward and destroy the threat.”
Marines began to adjust their positions when the battalion sergeant major, Kaden Vega, spoke over the command networks.
“Belay that, sir. We need to take the facility intact. Odd concept, I know, but we can’t just blow shite up. Send the Dragoniers or the Minis. They’ve got enough frakking juice to handle the situation. I’d recommend the Dragoniers, though. They’ll roast those frakkers but not harm the polycrete walls past what our builders can fix.”
Thinking on his feet, Tendaji ordered his sergeant major to send the command so he could contact his regimental commander.
“Colonel Scipio, sir, we’re taking fire,” Tendaji reported.
— CHAPTER 23 —
Midafternoon, Post-Revival Day 210
Outpost Charlie 1, Cardamine Island
Commander, 6907th TAC RGT, TF Vengeance, Human Legion
Cursing under his breath, Colonel Lance Scipio observed the sabotaged outpost with frustration. Task Force Vengeance had entered the long-abandoned Outpost Charlie 1, with each regiment breaching through separate sally ports. The Marines burst in, only to find the facility in chaos. The system that ran the facilities had been destroyed, and it left the task force unable to coordinate with the facility. They couldn’t address the issue until a new AI could be installed as the system’s administrator and a full reboot was initiated.
Operationally, the sabotage changed nothing for the Marines in their ACE-4 Combat Suits. The inconvenience meant that they had to manually secure the entire outpost, slowing down the capture of Cardamine Island. But evidence of an enemy presence put every Marine on edge. Marines began seeing an enemy behind every shadow, and only a command override of the targeting system allowed the AIs to prevent the troops from wasting sabots on phantoms.
Lance ordered his Marines to watch for any potential booby traps as they continued to push into the outpost. The first three levels were cleared without incident, and the 6907th attempted to ride the momentum to make up for the lost time. When they hit the fifth garrison level, Lance’s 7th Battalion commander reported contact.
“Lieutenant Colonel Tendaji Conteh, hold the line. Keep pushing forward, but I want an orderly advance. I’m en route. Organize the line until I get there. Have your AI coordinate with Xena. Scipio, out.”
Fearing the loss of any more of his Marines, Lance kicked in his assault thrusters and tried to close the distance. The amplified combat setting on his auditory sensors alerted him to the sabot fire ahead. He ignored the alerts as the thuds of sabot fire urged him forward. Lance overrode the safety protocols on his armor’s assault thrusters, pushing harder with his shadow Sashala steps behind him.
When Lance reached his Marines, the 7th Battalion’s Dragoniers were slowly advancing ahead of the line. They were roasting the insurgents, flames bursting from their nozzles. They were wearing down the bastards standing in front of his Marines, but Spartika’s insurgents wouldn’t give up. He could see enemy combat suits burning, some of their seals melting, dripping down to the floor. Still they f
ought on.
The enemy didn’t seem fazed but continued to pour accurate fire into his ranks without slowing, despite the number of times they were hit. Legion Dragoniers pushed harder, some of them exploding when enemy sabots hit their tanks. Lance’s surviving Marines persisted, continuing the fight. Using their cleansing fire to force the enemy back, Legion Dragoniers refused to quit.
Lance had to duck once or twice, avoiding the shrapnel from the third Dragonier to explode after Spartika’s insurgent Marines hit its fuel source. He tried ignoring the shrapnel, only to have Sashala reach out to yank him back or push him forward as she followed through with her mission of keeping him alive. Even with her interference, he kept his carbine up and locked into his shoulder, his face planted to the stock while he searched for another clear shot of the frakkers before him.
Onward the Dragoniers pushed, spewing righteous flames until their tanks went dry. Waves of heat rippled through the air, cooking off rounds on the retreating Marines. Still the enemy fought on, forcing the Legion to fight for every inch. The insurgents seemed impervious to their wounds, while 7th Battalion troops were dropping up and down the line. Screaming his curses into his helmet, Lance stood shoulder to shoulder with Sashala and continued pouring sabots downrange to little effect.
He knew that the Legion needed to eliminate the existential threat that Spartika presented to their plans, but it rankled Lance to have to fight other humans – his brothers and sisters, despite the banner under which they fought. Thinking of humanity in terms of us versus them had helped him survive his training, but this fight had challenged that mentality. He’d have to adapt to survive. Spartika would pay for bringing this fight to his doorstep.
Surveying the scene in front of him, he saw that the enemy was slowly withdrawing. They mirrored the Legion’s advance, pulling back as his Marines moved forward. They didn’t flinch as sabots poured into their ranks, which had a chilling effect, even for a combat veteran like Lance. Frakk, they’ve got some good combat drugs, he thought. His Marines, honed by their training regime and their own combat experience, continued pressing onward. He knew that they needed to keep the pressure on so they didn’t lose the momentum.