Insurgency: Spartika (The Sleeping Legion Book 4)

by JR Handley

  While they were circling the target to scan for threats, she reviewed the updates from the other task forces. She was anxious to check in on two of her best protégés, who’d been attached to the other task forces. Their engineering expertise made them valuable, and she was saddened to see that Lieutenant Colonel Harper Alloy and Senior Sergeant Alexander Strachan had been killed.

  “You’ll be avenged,” she told them, speaking in her native tongue in the privacy provided by her helmet.

  Her plans for vengeance were quickly addressed when the pilots declared the ground free of targets and began the descent approach. Not wanting to miss any information, she used her commander’s privilege and listened in on the pilot’s channel. She cut in just in time to hear the shuttle set to make the first landing approach speak to the squadron commander.

  “My sensors have found no anomalies. We’re–”

  The pilot’s comms were cut by another one of the pilots who was landing on the first wave.

  “Abort, abort, tether tra–”

  She didn’t need to hear the rest of his sentence to know what came next: they’d somehow missed another of the tether traps and had lost a few of their Stork shuttles. If she’d been paying more attention, and insisted on being the first Marine to touch down like good commanders should, she’d have been on one of the shuttles that just blew up. Growling, she was about to order the surviving pilots to destroy the enemy’s position, but they beat her to it. She heard the pilot’s squadron commander assigning targets, and the threat was neutralized.

  “We were lucky, ma’am,” said the squadron commander. “They only got two Storks. It could’ve been worse if we hadn’t been on alert. If our pilots weren’t so sleep deprived, we wouldn’t have even lost those.”

  “Roger that, but even if we kill them all, I’m still ordering an aerial drop on the target. Give us two minutes for our AIs to designate drop zones, and then we’re jumping.”

  While the pilots and assorted AIs were handling the logistics, GG jumped onto the task force LBNet and informed them that they were about to drop. Standing, she walked to the rear door of the shuttle and waited while it opened. As promised, two minutes later she jumped into the air and began scanning the ground below as gravity did its job. Her AI didn’t detect any more signs of life, just the grassy plains she’d seen earlier, though she scanned during the entire trip down. Seeing that she was in danger of waiting too late, she relaxed her body and bent her knees, and waited for the shock of impact.

  As GG performed a quick check of her armor, her AI, Cray, coordinated by directing the task force on securing a perimeter. That was mostly a perfunctory task, as the regimental commanders understood their job, but she felt better for having done it. It’s almost as if my AI commands the same rank I do, she thought, amused at the idea of a truly sentient AI. When the perimeter was secured, she ordered the task force to breach the outpost’s sally ports and assault the objective.

  They rushed in, not bothering to send the scouts first. The Marines of Task Force Retribution were angry at the losses: their Storks, pilots, and four squads of Marines who’d been aboard. They wanted payback and didn’t listen to their NCOs and officers, who were urging them to remain tactically aware. Fortunately, the first few levels were empty. They cleared the levels of abandoned garrison space without incident, securing the open spaces full of bunk beds and empty footlockers. This gave the task force leadership a chance to rein in their troops. Knowing they were only about a quarter of the way down into the outpost, GG used that break to send out the scout drones.

  When she saw the drone footage of what was on the next level, she breathed a sigh of relief. They would’ve run straight into a trap. The enemy had placed directional mines along the walls of the passageways in the administrative level. They appeared to have remote movement sensors as the trigger, a trap designed to lure them in. Using her engineer’s eye, she saw that the sensors were placed about three-quarters of the way into the main passageway.

  GG then ordered the drones to clear the rest of the level and ensure there were no other hidden traps. With the level cleared of any secondary traps, the engineers, thinking on their feet, tried using a drone to detonate the mines. It didn’t work, so they continued scouting ahead to the next level.

  Just as she’d expected, there were two enemy regiments stationed on the next level. They were waiting just around the bend of the ramp between levels, intent on rushing in to mop up whatever forces survived their traps. It was devious, she thought, but juvenile. Are we missing something? This is almost too easy. Are they using the first trap as bait to lure us in for an even more devious one? She knew she couldn’t figure this out on her own, so she put the issue to her staff.

  Her de facto XO, the colonel who’d been assigned as the liaison to the Sangurians and inherited the command position upon their death, was the one who spoke first.

  “Field Marshal,” said Colonel Alger Messer, “I think you’re giving these Marines too much credit. Given the hodgepodge of markings on their armor and the vast differences in height among them, I’d speculate that this is an ad hoc unit. These Marines are either straight from a crèche or novice schools, or they were pieced together from very old de-iced Marines. Either way, they aren’t operating at peak efficiency. I’m willing to put my life where my mouth is, and volunteer my regiment to lead the assault.”

  “And how do you plan on dealing with the mines?”

  “It’s easy. Send one of our marksmen down to take out the sensor. There might be a failsafe against this, designed to sense a single enemy. We can beat that, according to our engineers, if the Marine marksman’s good enough to strip out of his armor and take the shot without AI assistance.”

  Pleased with his initiative, she ordered the colonel to make it happen. She was impressed when he told her that he’d already done so. Their best marksman was taking aim as they spoke, waiting only for the signal to fire. Messer had arranged for a flashing light signal, so they didn’t give away their intentions with an errant electronic trail. With her approval, the signal lamp flashed, and the Marine fired a shot. And missed. GG was about to start brainstorming alternative strategies when the Marine marksman fired again. This time he hit the target, and there was a sympathetic chain reaction of explosions from the mines.

  With the mines destroyed, GG ordered a full assault by her task force. They rushed down the main corridor, confident that the only threat would come at them from the main passageway. They gambled their lives on it, charging ahead, slamming into the unsuspecting enemy insurgents. She hoped to take advantage of what Colonel Messer had judged to be a lack of combat effectiveness. The recently promoted officer had been right, and the enemy forces were brutally and efficiently dispatched. They didn’t lose a single Marine after they were close enough to engage the enemy in hand-to-hand combat. The fight was so brutally quick that the insurgents didn’t even have a chance to surrender. Two regiments of enemy Marines died where they stood at the point of first contact.

  “They sent kids at us,” said Colonel Messer. “They weren’t an ad hoc unit. They were crèchelings.”

  GG saw that the colonel was close to losing control; this was a hard thing for anyone to accept. They were warriors, trained from birth to fight and kill the enemies of their overlords. But they’d only ever fought other warriors. Only a truly callous soul would send children to fight in their stead. She added this to the growing list of sins Spartika would answer for. With hate in her heart, GG finished securing the outpost and prepared for the assault on the next objective. Reluctantly, she admitted that if Colonel Messer couldn’t get it together, she’d have to leave him with the regiment guarding the facility. He was a competent officer, so she hoped he’d be with her as they took the next objective. Until their shuttle arrived, however, all they could do was wait.

  — CHAPTER 65 —

  Noon, Post-Revival Day 218

  Human Marine Corps Outpost Bravo 3, Baylshore

  Commander, Task Fo
rce Vengeance, Human Legion

  Sitting in the shuttle on the trip to the next objective gave Colonel Lance Scipio time to think. The aftermath of the fight to seize the Makoni Ship Factory had been chaotic, and planning the logistics for the next assault was even more so. It took the combined power of Xena and the rest of his staff’s AIs to set things back together after the losses they took. They’d had to bring even more reinforcements from Akoni City than they’d planned, putting his goal of sending a fleet to the Rakasa System in jeopardy. He couldn’t let that happen, so he took a calculated risk.

  Against the better judgment of his staff, Lance had agreed to let the 941st Regiment join them. It would give Task Force Vengeance four regiments for their next assault, instead of the three he’d planned the campaign on. The change also left Fortress Beta City woefully understrength, and Basil would never forgive him if his decision cost the Legion control of the fortress. It was a hard call, but he knew a commander’s job was to make those decisions.

  With the revised plan in mind, Lance focused on the next objective. They were assaulting Human Marine Corps Outpost Bravo 3, which sat on the north-eastern shore of the continent. It lay in rolling hills, several miles off the eastern coast of the continent. It was the closest outpost to the ship factory, which he’d learned by spending several hours poring over the maps available for the continent of Baylshore. He suspected there was a chance Spartika hadn’t spent as much of her precious resources, her Marines, guarding a position she couldn’t hope to reinforce. He knew he was about to find out if his strategic thinking had been right as the Stork Squadron’s commander contacted him.

  “We can’t land, sir,” said the officer. “We see enemy activity below. I believe it’s another tether trap. I’ve sent a set of potential drop zones. Pick one, and you’ll be ready to jump immediately after.”

  Lance pulled the map overlay up on his HUD and studied what the pilots thought the sensor readings indicated. He suspected they were correct in their assessment and made a quick decision. Each regiment would be assigned one of the potential enemy positions, with orders to begin engaging the target on the way down. They’d spaced them out among the hills surrounding the areas that looked like they could support a Stork shuttle landing. From above, it was hard to distinguish them from the various rocky outcroppings, but the heat signatures were off. Not life signs, exactly, but off from the cool temperature of the surrounding soil.

  With their recent experience in aerial drops, Lance knew that his task force was becoming proficient enough for him to factor their abilities into his strategies. Plan made, he forwarded it to the entire chain of command before taking his place beside Sashala. They stood at the Stork’s side door, watching as it opened. The magnetic clamps on their boots prevented them from being buffeted by the wind that rushed into the Stork through the open door, and the helmets on their combat armor kept the sound of the wind from interfering with communications.

  When the light turned green on his HUD, Lance jumped out into the bright afternoon sky, confident that Sashala was there beside him. With her at his side, he felt like anything was possible. Xena always warned him that having a flesh-and-blood security blanket was dangerous, and he knew she was right. But he’d seen too much war lately. He knew precisely how fleeting it all was. He chose happiness, no matter how brief. Lance knew that it was an ironic thought, given the enemy troops whom he was filling full of sabots. The insurgents never saw it coming as he fired round after round from above. The closer he got to the grassy Tranquility dirt, the more rounds he fired, opening the weapon up to full auto.

  His attack on the ground forces wasn’t without risk, though, as he felt sabots pinging off his armor. The insurgents were firing from outside the stealth tarps they’d been hiding under, hoping to get off a lucky shot. The speed of his descent made an effective hit difficult, and Lance was reminded of how glad he was that Basil was on his side. The thought of Basil creating this kit for the enemy insurgents, giving them such an extreme leg up against him, was scary. The sabots pinging off his armor told him the insurgents weren’t out of the fight. Not bothering to aim, Lance fired and trusted Xena to guide his aim.

  The enemy tether teams were dead by the time Lance and the rest of Task Force Vengeance touched down and regrouped. The massive downpour of rounds had the desired effect, and Lance hadn’t lost a single Marine. Like before, he saw the shuttle pits where the insurgents had set up their traps. This time they weren’t finished, however, almost as if whatever forces were assigned to guard the outpost were only half-assing their defenses. He shook off that thought. He knew getting too confident was his vice. He couldn’t project his hopes onto the enemy. That’s how good Marines died.

  Looking around, Lance noticed that the sally ports were unguarded. Once his troops had secured the landing zone, Lance called the Storks’ commander and verified that it was safe. The pilots needed to ensure it wasn’t a hot LZ, since the 941st had to be dropped off. His old regiment didn’t have the newer armor, so they couldn’t make the jump. He’d managed to get their staff outfitted, which he’d considered a gesture of his good faith. In return, they’d provided the Legion with willing warriors and desperately needed intelligence. They’d been shocked to learn that Spartika had fielded some units composed entirely of novices and crèchelings.

  While the Storks were landing and disembarking the 941st Marines, Lance ordered the scout drones into the outpost. He quickly used the data they sent back to determine a game plan and began assigning tasks to the various regiments under his command. The enemy had decided to defend the sally port itself and followed that with a barricade on the first level, trying to stop the Legion from entering the facility. Once they cleared the sally port chokepoints, the first level was a troop garrison. The rooms were all organized around a central gathering area, with a passageway running down the middle of the level.

  The main passageway was the one the enemy had chosen to defend. The barricade was set immediately after the ground leveled out from the sloping entryway. It looked to have been hastily built from everything that wasn’t nailed down. They’d poured a thin layer of polycrete over the mess, but Lance knew his Minis would tear up that barricade. Clearly, this was a diversion tactic. At previous objectives, the Legion assault forces had been given free access to the first few levels. It seemed like the insurgents defending this facility were taking a more traditional approach. The enemy appeared to be attempting to repel their entry into the facility, not wanting to cede any ground. Lance could work with that.

  Lance wished he’d been able to gather more intel, but the defenders had quickly shot down his drones. That alone told him that they were dealing with professionals. The Legion had woken so many Marines from vastly different eras, he could only guess at the potential tactical doctrines and training models they operated under. Lance knew that he was unique, that his thinking had been influenced by exposure to the vast changes to the Human Marine Corps doctrine. He was aware that his tactics were the result of his intentional combining of the unique tactics and weapons from multiple generations. He was fighting an enemy who hadn’t proven itself capable of innovation. However, there were exceptions to every rule, and he didn’t want to take any chances.

  When the last Marine of the 941st disembarked from the Storks, Lance sent out orders and had the regimental commanders confirm that they understood them. Confident that everyone understood the plan, Lance ordered the initial assault. A battalion of Marines armed only with carbines would charge the barricades, making a show of the attack. When they convinced the enemy that the attack was real, they’d pull back in a rout. He knew the battalion would suffer heavy casualties, but the tactic was necessary. They would then send in drones armed with several captured bactabombs, drop them onto the enemy, and attack during the resulting chaos.

  He’d been about to give the order to launch the assault when Lieutenant Gilmar Hyat sent him a request for a private communication.

  “This is highly unusual, Lieuten
ant,” Lance said as he accepted the transmission.

  “Yes, sir, but I have an idea that would work better, sir. I’ve been reviewing classified data that I was only recently given access to. The White Knights had self-destruct devices in every piece of tech – well, most of them, anyway,” Hyat said.

  “I’m aware of that,” Lance said grimly, thinking of the lost fighters.

  “Yes, sir,” said Hyat. “We could get one of those submersible maritime navy ships to drop us a few gravtanks. The specs on those vessels are amazing, sir. They’re invisible until they surface. We should be able to have one in a few hours, if you agree to wait. No need for anyone to die unnecessarily. When the gravtanks get here, we upload a copy of an AI into it. Then drive the gravtank straight into the breach. Crash it into them loaded with explosives and detonate. Weaponize the self-destruct device. Use their own crazy tactics against them.”

  Lance was considering the idea when he was interrupted by Xena.

  Lance, listen to the impudent frakker. His idea has merit. We need to use the enemy’s tactics against them. It’ll save lives. I have a few other ideas up my sleeve that I can share when the right situation presents, as well.

  “Shut up, Xena. You don’t have sleeves,” he replied.

  So you do care enough to peep in my windows. I promise I wore those sexy clothes for Sashala. She can do things for me you’re incapable of!

  Shaking his head, Lance was glad that his helmet provided him a measure of privacy. He authorized the requisition of several gravtanks and munitions to break through the barricaded entrance to the outpost. Lance planned on using the other gravtanks to remain outside securing his rear. This would free up more Marines, who could attack the outpost with him. He planned on having them transported to the next objective, along Baylshore’s eastern coastline. He was surprised, though he decided he shouldn’t be, when he was told that Xena had already sent the request the moment the engineer suggested the idea.