by JR Handley
— CHAPTER 61 —
Early Evening, Post-Revival Day 217
Outside Makoni Ship Factory, Baylshore
Commander, Task Force Vengeance, Human Legion
The initial breach into the Makoni Ship Factory had been uneventful. The scout drones had been unleashed and found no enemy threat. Colonel Lance Scipio then ordered the drones to scan for potential booby traps before Task Force Vengeance cautiously entered the cavernous factory. The small entryway opened into larger doors that could slide inward, allowing small spaceships, or parts of larger spaceships, to exit the factory. Once he was inside the factory, Lance ordered his engineers to fully open the doors. He wanted to allow his shuttles to land inside and rescue his task force, should things go south.
With the foothold inside the factory secure, Lance ordered a battalion to return to the trenches, preventing any insurgents from escaping. The factory was huge, with multiple secondary entrances, and Lance couldn’t allow the enemy to retreat and regroup behind his lines. He knew the remaining battalion would be stretched thin, guarding against enemies exiting the factory and any attempt to seize the trenches by the insurgents positioned in the woods.
Having secured his rear flank, Lance ordered the 828th TAC Regiment to take the lead. He followed closely behind them with his security detail as they moved out, and thought of the oddity of it all. Working so closely with a unit that had once been the bane of his existence was weird, but they’d been assigned to him by his field marshal. The 828th was commanded by the recently promoted Colonel Tasha Gavin, who’d taken over after Colonel Cresil died at the Battle of Cresil’s Pass. She was competent though aloof, and Lance knew she didn’t trust him. Despite his improvements and successes along the way, she still begrudged his error that cost her commander her life.
Lance knew he couldn’t please everyone, shrugged it off, and continued after the 828th’s lead battalion. He wanted to be close enough to the front to make quick decisions, adapting his tactics on the fly. The strategy had been working, and he didn’t want to mess up a good thing just to appease the petulant commander of the 828th. He was content to let her problems remain her problems, though he’d have to deal with them at some point. His issues with Colonel Gavin had made him reluctant to place her regiment at point, but Xena and Sashala had tag-teamed him. They reminded him, not so gently, that this would cause resentment among the other two regiments in the task force who would consistently be placed in the forefront of danger.
Acquiescing to the two most important ladies in his life, Lance gave the order. Decision made, he began focusing on the steady stream of images from his drones. Their real-time footage allowed him to make snap decisions, giving him a more agile and mobile force. Shortly after they entered the winding ramp for the second level, the drones picked up movement. The enemy had staged several large pieces of machinery to create raised firing platforms in the labyrinthine space. While the area was as large as the previous floor, this one was still littered with whatever pieces or parts had been assembled when the factory was shuttered. Several large plates of ceramic alloy – he suspected they were hull plates – were propped up, allowing the insurgents to shelter whatever crew-served weapons they’d brought with them.
His diligence paid off. Lance was able to discern that the insurgents ahead of them wore the same unmarked combat armor they’d seen in the outer trenches. These insurgents stood out because Lance knew that Marines took pride in their regiments. Anyone wearing no unit insignia or markings on their armor meant they were between units, or fresh out of the crèche. The first thing a novice did when assigned to his unit was adjust his armor from the default unmarked setting.
“These are the frakkers who were in the trenches,” Lance said over the entire LBNet, knowing what effect his words would have. These were the Marines who’d killed their friends and lovers hours before. His task force was amped to fight, seeking to increase the enemy body count with sheer carnage.
“No mercy! No quarter! Kill them at a distance – let the engineers worry about putting the factory back together. I want the grenadiers, Dragoniers, and Minis leading the charge. Concentrate on the weapons platforms! Don’t let them get close enough to hurt your fellow Legionnaires.”
The rapid increase in sabot fire told him that his Marines were taking his free fire order to heart. I only hope I don’t regret that decision later, he thought to himself as he increased his pace to keep up with his troops. While they were eager, weaving in and around the spaceship parts lying around, they weren’t obeying his command regarding killing the enemy at a distance. Instead, 828th charged down another passageway, rushing into one of the larger pieces of a ship’s hull. These obstacles weren’t on their maps, which were created using the schematics from the mirror facility on Serendine. The former factory had been stripped of everything but the machinery and raw materials. This one had parts of unfinished ships and various other unknown products. When Task Force Vengeance rounded the corner behind the meters-long hull plate, the entire force became exposed. Their single regiment front was now in disarray, and the enemy chose this moment to strike.
Suddenly, turrets popped out from the hull plating and opened fire in a devastatingly synchronous pattern. When vital signs started dropping out of his command net, Lance realized they had targeted the officers. It had to be done visually, since the officers had already turned off their rank beacons. Frakk me, he thought before he jumped onto the task force’s LBNet.
“Pull back, pull back!” he roared, trying to cut through the bloodlust.
Lance stood his ground, viciously shoving every Marine around him back around the corner created by the hull piece and out of the line of fire. Standing resolutely in place, he used his arms to fire his carbine without aiming, trusting Xena to do her part. Instead, Lance focused on getting his Marines the safety. If they stayed in the kill zone much longer, the regiment would be wiped, and the Legion couldn’t afford those losses. With the realization that the equipment in the space created a point of divergence from their maps, Lance knew the typical tactic of assaulting through the ambush was a dud. It would only result in needless deaths. They’d pull back, send the drones to pinpoint the turrets, and re-assault the insurgents with deadly precision.
“Frakk, I really hate Spartika and her cowardly tactics,” he said over the command LBNet, not addressing anyone in particular.
If we’d thought of them, you wouldn’t be so upset, Xena reminded him privately, her tone unusually prim and proper. Don’t waste emotion on anger at her. Be pissed at yourself for not considering this out-of-the-box tactic, and then do better next time.
Her message stung because he knew she was right. Angrier than he’d been before, Lance reviewed the list of his remaining staff. His stomach sank when he saw that the 6907th’s 5th Battalion had lost all of the officers on their entire command staff. Colonel Moreland Vicker, one of the Marines who’d come to Beta City with Field Marshal Nhlappo, had been a good officer, and his loss would be felt. Vicker had survived the initial capture of the planet, then the New Order onslaught, only to be killed now with the 6907th.
I’ve taken the liberty of sending a brief letter of condolence to Field Marshal Nhlappo, with your regrets at the loss of one of her original Marines. Receipt was verified, but no return message sent, said Xena.
Knowing he’d have time to process it later, Lance contacted the surviving member of 5th Batt’s command staff on a private channel. Sergeant Major Augustus Gillen had been reluctant to rise above the NCO ranks, citing his age as a disqualifier. Lance knew it was time for the “grandpa Marine” to get over it and move about smartly.
“Sergeant Major, we can’t afford for you to refuse the promotion. The Legion needs you. Task Force Vengeance needs you. And 5th Batt needs you. Are we tracking, Colonel?”
There was a pause, and Lance feared he would have to slot someone less qualified to fill the void in the chain of command. Bad enough that many companies were missing their officers, but th
e regiments couldn’t be as flexible as Lance needed them to be without proper battalion commanders.
Lance didn’t have time to become worried. Before Lance could query his AI for more candidates to fill the void, Gillen replied, “Yes, sir. I’ll take the promotion, sir.”
The newly promoted officer’s reply was unusually solemn. Lieutenant Colonel Gillen was usually the one to get a laugh out of the regimental staff during meetings. Knowing that Gillen needed something to keep him busy, Lance gave him a mission. Lance assigned Gillen to scan the area they’d just lost. Ceding ground was never something Marines endured gracefully. Lance knew that the older Gillen would take the loss harder than he had; Gillen had ties to both sides of the conflict. Gillen had served with the insurgent Marines on the other side of the carbine sights. They weren’t just some unknown alien foe.
Lance’s plan worked. Order was rapidly restored to Task Force Vengeance, and reports on the enemy disposition appeared on his HUD. The position had been abandoned, but only after the enemy bastards had defiled the Legion dead. More sins that these corpse-frakkers will answer for, he thought to himself. He quickly began conferring with his staff to make battle plans. He intentionally kept the session short. Experience had taught Lance that these meetings could run away with themselves. He would need to keep a leash on things; he couldn’t let the perfect plan get in the way of one that was good enough. Time was of the essence. After his commanders gave him their thoughts, Lance conferred with Xena. Then he made the decision that he thought would give him the highest probability of success.
Through some experimentation, they discovered that the auto-turrets only focused on the silhouettes of the combat armor. It gave Lance the idea he needed. He knew that his XO might be one of the few who could quickly weaponize the drones. His good friend Basil could’ve done it, too, but he was busy building a navy for their return to the war against the White Knights. Decision made, he called Wires.
“You hacked the White Knight Master Code as a crècheling, so I know you can weaponize these recon drones. Take out those auto-turrets. The only other option is a suicide run to take them out. We’ll lose too many good Marines if we must do it that way. You can do it, right?”
“Too easy, sir,” she said with her usual enthusiasm. “But this will likely end with the drones being lost. You should’ve brought more combat drones instead of only the recon models. I could rig a Flenser pistol onto each of them, robotize the weapons, and slave them to a single AI. It’ll be sloppy and hackable, but if we’re quick, it won’t matter. Give me ten minutes, sir.”
Nodding, Lance prepared the shattered remains of the 828th for their charge back around the hull plates. They needed the chance to reclaim their honor, and he knew the regiment would fight like the demons of hell to win. It would mean they’d likely bleed unnecessarily and take more risks, but every Marine unit deserved the chance to reclaim the victory that was stolen from them.
Wake up, Xena told him via his helmet speakers. Wires finished, and we’re all waiting for your command to execute the assault.
Lance pulled himself out of his plans for the larger war and authorized the launch of the weaponized drones. Should’ve made combat drones part of my standard loadout, he admonished himself as he watched the live video feed of the drones in action. Wires’ creations worked beautifully, and they only lost half of them while destroying the auto-turrets. When the last auto-turret exploded, the 828th flooded the area with as many Marines as they could. Speed and violence of action would win the day, now that the turrets had been cleared. He knew they would have to continually watch for the creative traps left by their enemy, but Lance suspected the enemy’s strategy was a long delaying of action. He was gambling that they wouldn’t have layered multiple traps in the same location.
When his task force rushed into the area, Lance followed, his carbine at the ready, searching for targets. As soon as the area behind the hull piece was secured, they searched for secondary traps and found the area devoid of any. Lance sent the drones ahead around the next significant obstacle in search of an updated schematic. The area behind the large hull plate was empty, at least for a few meters. The open space was then filled with what appeared to be a portion of a cruiser hull. He was no Spacer, but he knew a sizeable number of troops would fit in the cylindrical piece of the hull. The defenses looked like one of the beached whales he saw on Cardamine Island as a kid, except the guts were filled with trained killers. He knew it would provide the insurgents cover, and had firing ports cut into the hull at regular intervals would make hitting the target difficult.
He still hoped it would be empty, or another avenue laden with traps, at worst. Spartika’s insurgents were still Marines once, and he didn’t relish killing the rank and file. Despite his hopes, Lance wasn’t surprised when the drone footage showed them that the enemy had chosen this place to make what appeared to be a last stand. They’d layered their defenses admirably inside the structure, with the unfinished spaceship being filled with a winding path of junk, held together by polycrete, that fed the attackers into various deadly routes. It’s an impressive barricade, he thought. This will make flanking them difficult.
Studying their internal defenses, he saw they’d corned themselves, intentionally putting their backs up against a wall. They’d likely fight like wild creatures because they had nowhere else to fall back to. Looking closer, he saw that they’d created an ad hoc barricade, but it did the job. If he charged their flanks, his troops would be chewed to pieces. And taking it apart with his grenadiers would take too long. If Lance had planned the defenses of that room, he’d do it the same way, but how would he get around it?
“Frakk me,” he said to himself.
“Colonel, this is an open channel,” his XO told him, her question obvious. The concern in her voice was what struck Lance the most.
“Roger, XO,” Lance replied, “but this fight will be brutal. Plans were sent to all commanders. I’ll take a battalion right up the middle. The remaining forces will flank them and hope to get within their lines. I’ll lead the bait element, drawing a battalion at random–”
“No, sir,” said Colonel Gillen, interrupting his commander. “5th Batt will charge into the devil’s teeth with you.”
“I’m honored,” Lance said in reply, ignoring the breach in discipline. “The 6907th will take the right flank, and the 828th will take the left. We’ll send in the drones again, on an erratic pattern as they take out as many forces as they can. These frakkers know we’re coming, so if the drones go in again, we look indecisive.”
Remember your combat suit’s new capabilities, cut in Xena.
“Horden’s Balls, we’ve got those increased jump capabilities! When we get in close, we can bound over the shell of the ship and land in their laps! Let’s use that.”
Lance paused to collect his thoughts and then continued laying out his plan.
“This unit doesn’t appear to have bactabomb projectiles or EMP bullets. We’ll send in the final two drones, carrying our own bactabomb grenades. Turn their own tactics against them. When they’re distracted, I’ll lead the charge up the middle, followed by our flanking units. Any questions?”
Lance didn’t expect any questions and didn’t wait for any before he ended the briefing. With the orders given, the Marines prepared for the final assault against the insurgents. Lance walked over to Sashala and pulled her aside for a private moment. She stood next to him, just around the bend from the hull plate that had given the 828th so much trouble. They were out of earshot of their Marines, so he removed his helmet and waited as she did the same.
“Sash, love,” Lance said as he placed his hand on her shoulder while leaning in to touch his forehead to hers. “You don’t need to follow me on this one. I couldn’t ask anyone else to charge into certain death. It has to be me. But you could hold back, go with the 6907th.”
Sashala Kraevoi, his lover and bodyguard, merely shook her head in the negative before silencing his protests with her mouth
and her tongue. After a few moments, and a few whoops and hollers from the Marines nearby, Sashala spoke.
“When this is over, I’m going to tie you to our rack and teach you some discipline. Until then, we stick together like Hardits in mating season. If you lose your carbine, ignore your Flenser. It won’t pierce their armor, and the sword scares the shite out of them. Now let’s go.”
Lance didn’t bother answering her or trying to convince her to take the safer route. Instead, he merely jogged over to where the 5th Batt was waiting and began a quick check of everyone’s weapons and armor. There was no need for grand speeches. Everyone knew what they were wading into, but the work had to be done, and they all had unfinished business with these Marines. When everyone was ready and resupplied with ammunition carousels, he turned to Lieutenant Colonel Gillen.
“Lead us to victory, sir.”
Without much fanfare, the commander of 5th Batt ordered the charge. Not waiting to see if the rest of the battalion followed him, Gillen and Lance sprinted around the corner towards their fate. Lance ran hard, struggling to keep up with the determined Marine next to him, but they ran straight for the enemy position together with the 5th at their flanks. Sashala, as always, ran next to him on his weak side. Since the dawn of warfare, the weak side of a soldier was his non-dominant flank. It was a place of honor, and one his lover had earned time and time again.
Their charge had closed half the distance before the enemy opened fire. He guessed that the enemy suspected a trap, and was waiting to see what his Marines were going to do. His Marines hadn’t waited; they’d been firing sabot after sabot at the enemy with some effect. The aid of their AIs allowed them to hit the insurgents through the gun ports, though it was impossible to tell how deadly it was. By the time the insurgents finally fired, it had a devastating effect, but the enemy’s delay allowed Lance and the 5th to get within jump range.