Insurgency_Spartika

by JR Handley

  “Keep pushing them, Marines,” Spartika exhorted her carabineers.

  While continually urging her Marines on over their LBNet, she parried the thrust from another doomed Legionnaire. A quick upward movement and a butt-stroke to the throat later, and the Marine crumbled. She knew he wasn’t dead, so Spartika quickly slashed his throat with her assault cutters. Using the maneuver broke the monofilaments that made up her impromptu bayonet, but decapitated the wounded enemy Marine in the process.

  Whirling around to look for more targets, Spartika noticed that she was alone. The fighting had hit a lull, and the last enemy Marines were on the ground, wounded. Seeing her Marines backing off and disengaging, she slung her SA-71 carbine behind her back and unholstered her Flenser pistol. She strolled around with her sidearm drawn, calmly executing the survivors. Some of the wounded tried crawling away, leaving trails of dark maroon, coagulating blood on the cool, gray polycrete. They didn’t get far.

  As she slaughtered her wounded foe, Mixon came over her helmet’s internal speakers.

  Spartika, I’m filming this as you execute Nhlappo’s refuse. I’ll incorporate the audio overlay from your earlier speech. If you’ve more to say, now would be the time. When they’re dead, we will send that bitch Nhlappo the message.

  “I’ve said what needed saying,” Spartika told her AI as she pulled the trigger.

  — Chapter 5 —

  Midmorning, Post-Revival Day 200

  Command Bunker, Akoni City, Serendine

  Commander, 6907th TAC RGT, Human Legion

  A deadly silence fell over the command bunker as Colonel Lance Scipio watched the video coming out of his home. Sitting beside him, Field Marshal Marchewka growled as the video unfolded. Watching it was difficult. Those were Marines Lance had unwittingly sent out to their deaths. His heart broke as he watched the deaths play out in front of him, while he was helpless to stop it.

  “Xena, cut the feed. I’ve seen enough,” Lance told his AI through the bunker’s verbal command interface.

  I can’t. She’s jamming our feed, and I haven’t broken the encryption yet, Xena replied in an unusually serious voice.

  Slamming one of his furry limbs onto the table, rattling an empty coffee mug, Field Marshal Marchewka stood.

  “This must end. This imposter, this Spartika, she must die!” Marchewka roared, rattling the water vessels that were left at the various stations.

  Nodding, not wanting to aggravate the volatile field marshal, Lance continued trying to hail his Marines with Spartika droning on in the background.

  “Sic semper tyrannis,” snarled Spartika as she came across the speakers even more loudly than before. There was a pregnant pause before she continued. “This didn’t have to happen, Marines. This isn’t your fight. Abandon the tyrant Nhlappo before she dooms you all.”

  As she continued speaking, Marchewka growled even louder, overriding the drivel coming from her mouth. When Marchewka paused to take a calming breath, the voice of Spartika was still droning on in the background.

  “It’s not too late to join me, to overthrow your unjust commanders,” Spartika said before she finally finished her transmission and cut off all comms links.

  After taking a few calming breaths, Lance closed off the part of his mind that felt emotions, much like his cadre had taught him to all those years ago. Thinking of his youth back in Kalino City made it difficult, but Lance managed, and looked over at his commander.

  “Field Marshal, we need to get Field Marshal Nhlappo here now,” Lance told his commander in a wooden voice. “Seizing Cardamine Island is now a priority. We can’t let Spartika find any of the hidden resources on the island. And if her AI can lock out Xena, then it’s nothing to shake your babymaker at.”

  Staring at him with an unfathomable expression on his maw, Field Marshal Marchewka affirmed Lance’s request, and a base-wide alert was sent out.

  — Chapter 6 —

  Late Morning, Post-Revival Day 200

  Command Bunker, Akoni City, Serendine

  Commander, New Detroit Regional Army, Human Legion

  My Marines are looking sharp, thought Field Marshal Tirunesh Nhlappo as she inspected her most recently thawed Marines. I’ll have to get them integrated into my command. She strolled down the formation, checking the attention to detail from the unassigned Marines. They stood in open ranks with their weapons ready at port arms, waiting for her to inspect them.

  Nhlappo paused, turning to the NCO following her and taking notes.

  “Sergeant Shane, these Marines will need to be integrated into existing units. We need to normalize the tactics from across their various eras. Until I select a new XO, you’ll need to more actively step up and assist Sergeant Major Anderson.”

  The NCO acknowledged her command, and she continued trooping the line until she received an urgent call from Brinx, her AI, who spoke through the small speaker on the Aimee attached to her arm.

  Tirunesh, there’s an urgent request from Field Marshal Marchewka. You’re needed in the command bunker. Spartika has called in. It’s imperative that you expedite your return. Decisions await.

  Nodding to Sergeant Shane, she ordered him to continue inspecting the formation and strode off with a purposeful step. Once she was out of sight of her formation, Nhlappo took off, her Flenser pistol jumping around in the holster on her thigh as she ran. With a quick curse, she re-attached the retention strap. Thanks to her years of physical conditioning, it didn’t take her long to travel the several miles to the command bunker. She knew that Colonel Scipio and Field Marshal Marchewka were waiting for her, and if Spartika called, then plans needed to be made.

  The solemn looks on their faces after she punched in her security code and entered the bunker told her everything she needed to know. It had to be bad, which meant Marines might have to die to make things better. Seconds after the bunker’s door had re-sealed, Marchewka began speaking.

  “Nhlappo, watch the video that mutinous Aux sent. No sound – nothing she says is worth listening to. Once you’ve seen the traitor’s video, we plan for war,” he said in an uncharacteristically deep growl.

  With a small nod, Nhlappo indicated she was ready, and the lights dimmed as a video began playing on the holo-screen in the command bunker. The sound was muted, but someone with her combat experience knew what was happening. The screams didn’t come over the video, but she heard them nonetheless. Each Marine who was killed, executed by Spartika’s wild lust for power and revenge, tore off pieces of her soul. She bled for every one of them, but especially the last Marine who openly begged for his life. He’d been wounded, but he could’ve lived with medical treatment. Instead he was shot in the head, his brain matter exploding inside his helmet. The Marine’s visor, with its single hole from the sabot, looked like some macabre blender. The sprays of arterial blood had been set off inside the once pristine helmet, like the hand of the gods had caved in the Marine’s face. The video panned in for a close-up of the dead Marine before it cut to Spartika’s face.

  With a wave of his hand, Lance turned off the video, and the dimmed lights slowly brightened. With a hard look in her cold green eyes, Nhlappo took in their faces before she spoke.

  “I’ll make Spartika pay. Too many have died, and we’ll make her pay for every drop of blood. I’ll have my Marines ready to move out in an hour,” she said grimly.

  Raising his furry limb, Field Marshal Marchewka stopped Nhlappo from going any further.

  “Clearly, we need to get Marines dirtside as quickly as possible. Let us not rush and lose more troops than necessary. We will plan and then land with overwhelming force. The island will be ours,” Marchewka asserted. “Calm yourself. Let us play this with prudence, that we may win decisively.”

  — Chapter 7 —

  Early Morning, Post-Revival Day 201

  Akoni City, Serendine

  Commander, Akoni City Regional Army, Human Legion

  The planning sessions ran long into the night, until Field Marshal Marc
hewka finally ordered everyone to sleep. The entire command staff simply each grabbed one of the many cots in the back of the headquarters and passed out. Nobody even bothered to take off their boots. The silence of the night was only broken by Lance’s soft snoring, much to Marchewka’s irritation. After ten minutes of snoring, Marchewka gave up on his battle for sleep.

  Concerns heavier than sleep pressed on his mind. The chance to find his mother was close, improbably close, but finally here. With that thought, Marchewka pushed his mind and body. While his staff slumbered, he had food and energizing beverages sent to the headquarters. Duly revitalized, he began studying the maps. Deeply engrossed in running battle probability simulations through the computers, he grunted when he felt Lance’s presence beside him.

  “Good morn’, Lance. I am running probability matrices on what we might find on the island,” he told his trusted protégé.

  “Morning, Field Marshal,” Lance said. “We ran those same simulations last night. They’re inconclusive without more data. We’ll have to land in force, then deliberately push forward.”

  Studying the map with an indecipherable expression, Marchewka said, “You know the island. Where would you land to secure it? We need to secure a beachhead and rapidly expand. Assume Serendine is secure and Baylshore is a threat. Now go.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lance replied. “I’ve marked the map. I recommend we have our Storks skirt the island and land on the northernmost point. Deploy some armored vehicles and push forward to this outpost. Then land a separate force of Marines on the small island chain that contains some old structure and another outpost. I’m not sure what’s there, but the Recon Marines tagged it as worth looking at when they did their pass over the island. Finally, land a third force near the annex and a fourth on the southernmost edge of the western island. We then pour in troops and push out from there. We could secure the island in a matter of hours, a few days, tops.”

  Marchewka pondered that plan and then asked the one question which was left hanging.

  “Lance, we cannot simply drop multiple landings across the island. We can land three forces, but we’d have to do each landing in two waves. Where would we get that much air power? I know it would let us secure Cardamine quickly, and move on to Baylshore. But the more time we give them, the more they can dig in. How will you compensate?”

  Lance stared at the map, tapping his finger on his chin.

  “Solid point, sir. I imagine that they want us to go slowly, so they have more time to dig in. They being the brain-heads who designed the defenses of Cardamine. Given enough time, they’ll have nastier surprises in store for us while we dally. The island had many classified facilities on it. At least that’s what scuttlebutt said. Since my old unit went on to a classified mission from there, it’s worth investigating. Once we enter the facilities, we’ll need to approach carefully, lest we trigger any dormant security features. If we don’t have the air support to land at all four the locations, then drop the LZ near the supply annex. Just secure the other locations. Denying the enemy the chance to claim weapons and munitions from the outposts is critical.”

  The discussion was interrupted as Marines temporarily assigned to mess steward duty arrived with breakfast. Gesturing with his furry limb, Marchewka indicated that they should leave the food and withdrawal. Out of his peripheral vision, he caught sight of his security personnel nonchalantly leaning against the wall.

  “Maintain your situational awareness! If those stewards had hostile intent, how would you have stopped them? You had your head so far up your arse, you’d blow your own brains out before you could do your job. Corporal, I want your officers in my quarters when this meeting is over.”

  Satisfied with the fear apparent through their increased attention and rigid posture, Marchewka moved on. Turning back to his groggy staff, he bellowed, “This war isn’t going to win itself.”

  Now that they were awake and moving, he demanded an update from his logistics staff.

  “Our factories are still cranking out supplies,” reported Major Bisch. “Regrettably, if we push ahead for the immediate conquest of Cardamine Island and then of Baylshore, we won’t have time to wait for the factories to complete their re-supply of all three regional armies.”

  While Major Bisch continued answering with the requested information, Marchewka followed along on the touch screen in front of him. The level of details, from parts manufacturing to final assembly of the vehicles, were gone over ad nauseam. Every jot and tittle was laid out, with timelines for the various projects, to include building the first Human Legion Void Navy for the Tranquility System. Marchewka ended the discussion and moved on to his plans for capturing Cardamine Island.

  “Listen up. The strategy and probability matrices we’ve run have been inconclusive. The only way to get more actionable intelligence is to get boots on the ground. Given the situation, there’s no way we’re sending in another recon unit to scout ahead. Instead, we’ll plan for three massive landings on the island, as you can see here on the holo-map. Once the beachheads are secure, we will push forward to the first real objectives, the Human Marine Corps outposts, which Lance assures us are there. Once the island is secured, we crack the nut that is Kalino City. Any questions?”

  At first there was silence, but then Sergeant Major Vavarier said, “Field Marshal, we’ve been receiving concerning reports from the Sangurians at our recently captured Incubation Station. The rabbit frakkers are blocking access, making it difficult for our people to conduct Legion business. I don’t know if we’re taking them on this mission, but it wouldn’t kill us if some of them died along the way. Having fewer of them means they’re less of a threat.”

  Marchewka nodded, well aware of the issues surrounding their new “allies.”

  “Lance, head down to our Legion Incubation Station and investigate the reports we’re receiving. You’re to secure their assistance in the final conquest of Tranquility-4. Remind them that if we lose, then your rash promise to give them a new home planet dies with us. Make it happen,” Marchewka ordered his most trusted subordinate.

  The young colonel responded in the affirmative, and the meeting was concluded.

  — Chapter 8 —

  Early Afternoon, Post-Revival Day 201

  Human Legion Incubation Station, Serendine

  Commander, 6907th TAC RGT, Human Legion

  After concluding his planning session with the field marshals, he took a moment to check in with his longtime friend Basil. When he was done checking in, Lance gathered his senior staff. They had to prepare for the mission south, and had very little time to do it. He knew that the Sangurians would be problematic, but damned if they weren’t handy warriors to have on your side in a pinch. Knowing he needed to keep them loyal, Lance was prepared to make any promise he thought he could get away with.

  Might as well double down on my earlier promises, he thought. Desperate times, desperate measures, and all.

  Thinking through how he could entice the Sangurians to join his cause again, he began letting his mind toy with the issue. What might I be forced to concede to the furry frakkers this time? All the while, Sashala sat on the bunk with him, twirling the hair on the nape of his neck.

  “How long can we string the Sangurians along before we have to deliver the goods?” he asked his lover.

  “Until they rip your head off,” Lieutenant Sashala Kraevoi replied, cocking her head to the side. “As your personal bodyguard, I vote we avoid that possibility. Why not just remind them that dead men can’t fulfill blood oaths?”

  As usual, she was everything he wasn’t: deeply thoughtful, calm, and insightful during the chaos of battle. And yet she was quick to act when the situation needed it. Her actions had saved him from himself after the loss of Colonel Cresil at the Battle of the Rumex River. And her affection had been what he needed to get himself out of his own way. In the time since they’d begun sharing quarters, they’d moved past purely physical lust to nurturing an intense and supportive relationship.
Lance truly loved her and considered her to be his life mate. He knew her jokes hid her worry, her unwillingness to admit that the Sangurians were among of the few beings that scared her.

  “Since I don’t want to die, I think you offer good advice. When I made that promise, Beta City was dying, and I didn’t expect any of us to survive long enough to secure a new home. Now victory is at hand, regardless of how desperate the fight will be. We might actually have to deliver, and I think they’re starting to realize that I’m making this up as I go. But what else could I have done?”

  Lance didn’t really expect an answer, and he got none. The simple act of verbalizing his thoughts helped him formulate a plan. Once he was confident in his thought process regarding the Sangurian situation, Lance stood and took Sashala by the hand. After a quick and furious kiss, he swatted her arse and headed out the door to gather his Marines. He didn’t get far before he was thrown to the ground, tripped by her well-placed leg between his. Rolling so that he landed on his back, Lance instinctively reached for his weapons, only to realize it was Sashala looking down at him, smiling.

  “Go ahead, spank my arse like that again,” she taunted. “I’ll serve your babymaker for dinner. If anybody’s going to get their arse whacked like a crècheling, it’ll be you!”

  Looking up at his lover, Lance smirked and lifted a hand to her. Laughing in that small way of hers, Sashala gave him her hand and helped him regain his footing. After a quick inspection of their gear, they both put their official masks on and headed out to the maglev line where the staff waited. It took almost no time to get there with the sharp pace they’d been conditioning themselves for. They reached the lower level where the maglev waited in record time and not even short of breath. Once Lance was there, his staff loaded themselves onto the train car and strapped themselves in.