Naero's War: The Citation Series 2: The High Crusade (8 page)

Naero could no longer attack.

All of her efforts soon concentrated on deflecting and absorbing waves of incoming attacks. And even she could not intercept them all.

The high speed and rate of fire, and their beefed-up shields and armor, would endure only so many hits.

Each second that their four gravtanks kept firing, they destroyed more and more enemy armor.

The invaders concentrated nearly all of their intense fire on the rearguard renegade tank in order to take it out and break the defensive formation. While at the same time, Naero focused all of her efforts on protecting it.

The rear tank lasted for several seconds longer before it started getting blasted to pieces.

“Tank 4, Tank 4. Get out of there. Bail out now!”

Allen, Mitsubishi, Patton, and Barrett barely ejected with their gravwings, joining up with Naero, and fired their weapons under the cover of her shields.

Tanks 1 and 2 continued on forward, pressing and leading the ongoing attacks. Tank 3 whipped around and assumed the rearguard position, protecting their backsides.

They managed to fight for a few minutes longer before they were fairly trapped.

The three remaining crews bailed and ejected almost at once–right before their battered, speeding tanks with their power cores set on overload, plowed into another wave of enemy armor, disrupted, and detonated under a storm of concentrated enemy fire.

Everyone heard Corporal Chang Han’s scream cut off over the link, as one of those waves of fire enveloped him. A split second meant death. That’s all it took.

Han did not slip within Naero’s unit shield barrier fast enough. A half an instant too slow, and he and his combat armor were vaporized.

There wouldn’t even be any pieces of him to go back and collect.

“Hornet scatter and cloak fade,” Sergeant Python said, just before Naero was going to say the same. “Regroup at R-point Delta-5.”

Naero was about to be overwhelmed by those same intense waves of fire, locking onto her no matter how she evaded.

The enemy was so intent on destroying her, that they didn’t notice that they were blasting each other, and ignored all of the other Marines who had manage to disappear.

Naero and Om called down an electron wave pulse burst, and several decoy and holo drones, and they cloaked as soon as the rest of Squad 3 was safely away, scattering in all directions away from that growing, misdirected firestorm.

In the confusion, the enemy continued blasting not much else but each other for a few seconds longer, taking damage.

Meanwhile, at rendezvous point Delta-5 nearby, Shetanna and Squad 3 regrouped.

“I know we lost Han,” Wilde noted. “But that wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just dumb luck. We did good. Han did good. We knocked out and damaged nearly one quarter of the enemy’s armor. Not bad for a dozen–plus one–goons on a joy ride!”

Vince Fay nodded. “Han went happy. I saw him smiling. He was having a great time. He knew we were doing well.”

Han’s best buddy Kowalski still looked in shock at the loss of his best friend. That was always hard on anyone.

All of their fireworks also quickly got Command’s attention.

Not seconds later, a Marine mek unit snaked in to engage the remaining enemy armor formations while the foe was still disorganized and reeling.

Marine air strikes also pounded the confused, enemy armor formations.

Two naval destroyers swept over the rest to finish the task and keep moving.

Naero had their fixers stay busy.

“Everyone,” Naero told them. “It’s time for presents. New orders filtering down. Prepare to move and fire. Re-sup with our fixers. They have demo-charges, grenades, microbombs, and float mines. A full spread of toys for all of us. Load up and let’s mission on, for Han. Tighten it up, Squad 3. Let’s fight, Marines!”

“Our MCL’s on the nose,” Sergeant Python Wilde shouted.

“For Han!” all three remaining members of his fireteam yelled.

“Ooh-rah!” the rest roared.

Naero screamed right along with them, and loaded up double for their next fun ride.

Once the battle was over, and the mission was won, Naero and 36 went back to where they lost Han and tried to find some remains.

Nothing. No good.

When they went back up into orbit, they took an old, spare suit of Combat Armor that Han had once worn, and kept for spare parts, like most of the Marines did. They put some of Han’s personal effects inside the empty suit. Stuff that reminded his mates of him. Then they added gifts of food, drink, and trinkets. Then they put the suit into a casualty bag, along with busted up enemy weapons as trophies, and took it all to the funeral teks as they always did.

Sergeant Python Wilde led the procession, spoke the needed words, and handed the substitute for their lost friend over to be placed in a Marine casket. They went back, and Han’s mates helped Kowalski gathered up the personal effects and gear to be sent home to the family and Clan Chang. Marines took care of their own.

5

Bravo replacements for Company 36 reached them on Tecumseh-2 their next drop point. That world was a vast desert planet with huge, cacti forests and dry-bed rivers with quick dust sink holes that could swallow up tanks and small vehicles.

These wind-whipped, dry-bed rivers snaked through the continents, canyons, and towers of rock and crystal formations.

2
nd
Platoon had three reps, or what the Marines usually called rooks, come in from Command on the next supply run.

This trio of newly minted Bravo Marine recruits consisted of: Tucker James, Kemela Anthony, and Kokey Miles. Second Leftenant Anaconda Wilde got them in and sitched with their squads.

The day was Firstday, and that night was going to be another Vid Night. Everyone got together and watched their favorite vids.

As the company MCL, Naero came around that evening to meet the new blood. Elite units could be very tough on rooks, and in some cases, they needed to be. In others, not so much.

Naero wanted to examine them and meet them for herself.

“I’m Naero–”

“We all know who you are, sir,” Tucker said.

“Your parents, too, sir,” Kemela added.

All three rooks stared at her as if she were some kind of spirit being or something.

“I’m the company MCL for 36. Welcome.” She offered them all her hand. They each took it, up to the elbow.

“All of us hoped to get a chance to serve with you, sir,” Kokey told her.

“Well, be careful what you wish for, Marines. You’ll get a perfect introduction to what we do very shortly. Tonight, we’ll be hunting, in the black, just the way Bravo likes it. I want you to be extra careful, and listen to the people in your fireteams. The Ejjai are also hunters, and they can be tricky at any given time.”

James spoke up again. This one had lots of attitude. She could see it. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Granted. And that goes for all of you. Fire away, James.”

“Sir. With respect, we’ve been here less than half a day and we’re already extremely tired of all of this rook, newb, and green crap that we keep getting heaped upon us.”

Naero smiled. “I understand.”

“No, you don’t, sir,” Kemela added. “What with being an officer, a Mystic, and an MCL and all.”

Kokey sided with her new mates. “We’ve all been fully trained, sir. All of us are ready to bust someone up the next time they dump on us.”

“Listen up, Marines. Regardless of what you think I know or don’t know, I’d stow that frustration of yours somewhere deep and dark, and save your busting for the enemy. You want it straight? You know damn well this is just what happens when you’re new. After your first action, it will ease off. You wanna change things? Then think about how you’re going to treat the next batch of rooks who come in after you.

“We all go through crap like that and the general stupidity of the mob. And yes, for your info, I’ve been there. I’ve served with the Niners and with Bravo–and not just as an MCL, but as a regular jarhead, fire-eating devil dog. A Marine, just like you. And yes, I was a rook also. So suck it up and go relax and enjoy some vids. Talk to your new mates. Freeze those hot heads of yours. You can’t be worried about things you can’t change and that don’t matter. Focus on the mission and the enemies we face tonight. That is what real Marines do. I’ll be around, if you need me.”

“Sir,” Kokey asked. “What are the slashers really like to war against?”

“None of you have fought Ejjai anywhere, yet?”

“We only know what we’ve read and what we’ve heard and seen on the webnets,” James added.

Naero took a moment and sat down with the three. “The Ejjai are animalistic killers more than soldiers. They’re pack-minded. They are no match for us Spacers one on one. They will never fight you fair or one at a time, either. They will come at you a hundred at once and pile on more. They see everything that lives as their prey, and will kill and try to eat it. They are stupid in some ways and very cunning in many others. They’ve just been barely uplifted from the point of being animals, but are clever enough to remain who and what they are–a major threat to civilian populations.”

Kemela said, “We’ve been trained by the best, to be the best. Why should we be afraid of them?”

“Kemela, I never said anything about fearing them. Just be smart. Respect every foe for what they are and for what they are capable of doing. All of you. No amount of training can completely prepare you for what the real experience of this war is like. The people you are replacing were all good Marines–better than you three–only because they were more experienced. But war is always unlucky. If you buy it by bad luck, that’s one thing. You just don’t want to buy it because you did something stupid that made you dead.

“Haisha, by the law of averages, with all of the shooting going on–even if we are cloaked and invisible–some of us are going to get hit, wounded, and even killed. That’s war.”

All three rooks rolled their eyes. “We know the odds, and we don’t care about that,” James said. “We’re Marines, sir. And we’re ready to scrap, rooks or not. We just want some respect.”

Naero grinned a second time. “Never said that you weren’t, Marines. Luck to you tonight. You want respect? You’ll have plenty of chances to earn it.”

She passed Whip Konrad, pale and hugging his knees, rocking back and forth and stammering. “Arty, arty, artillery…th-th-that’s how they’re going to get me. I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead. Arty. Dead man…”

Then a delay came down, and the mission was postponed until the next night.

Secondday was Gear Night. Everyone went over gear, and talked gear while waiting for the call. They inspected their rigs and compared notes and mods, met with teks, and fine-tuned their systems. All three of the new replacements listened in and learned plenty that they had not heard before.

After that, they went over the sitrep again.

Unlike many other Alliance worlds, on Tecumseh-2, the population of fifty or so million were scattered across the habitable zones in relatively small towns and modest cities. Because of the scarcity of fresh water, both surface and ground water, the sentients there had outlawed any city larger than a hundred thousand souls in any one given region.

This was a world of the Silesians, near-humans, often called frogs or even toads, because of their wrinkled throat bags which they could swell up and use to add to several specialized vocal effects for their species.

Silesians still courted each other by chasing each other and singing various mating or love songs to one another. Among them, throatbags remained a sign of status and virility.

As a race, Silesians also had a rep for discriminating against other sentient races, and being very abrasive and difficult to deal with. They delighted even in insulting each other at great length, let alone other sentients.

But after suffering hard from the Ejjai invasion on several of their ancient homeworlds, even the normally abusive Silesians had met their match and become desperate, and begged and pleaded for any assistance and deliverance from any quarter, against such a determined and vicious enemy who did not care anything about them, and saw them only as yet another source of meat.

Then they got the word. The mission was on.

That night, Kokey Miles had a major stealth suit malfunction an hour after sunset. A fairly rare incident with their stealth tek, but it did occasionally happen. Things broke down.

Leftenant Wilder sent her back to one of the Company 36 dropships to effect repairs, before her suit lit them all up for the enemy to locate.

But when she arrived at the camouflaged dropship, she noticed a stray unit of several dozen Ejjai skirmishers just happening by that way on their gravwings. Now they were getting into position and preparing to attack the transport and its crew of eight.

Non-working cloaker be damned, Kokey took cover and attempted to get closer, warn the transport, and reach Company Command and HQ.

As it happened, coms in that localized area near the drop zone were being widely jammed by the enemy. She couldn’t even warn the Marines on that transport without being spotted and attacked herself.

One against a hundred or so Ejjai were not very good odds, but Kokey immediately prepared to execute a high velocity, ring-sweep strafing attack via gravwing, in order to alert everyone that something was up.

First she had her fixer reconfigure most of her gear into an E-88 particle beam mini-gun.

Then she increased her velocity and swooped in without hesitating, not only gunning down the enemy skirmishers in droves, but lighting them up and painting them as available targets on the combat grid.

She kept up her sweeping arcs of intense fire, her shields full front, and began to take small arms fire in return.

Kokey killed and wounded several Ejjai, but more importantly, she exposed almost a full company of them on the combat grid in a big way, and took down many of their shields.

Pop-up turrets on the transport responded with supporting fire behind unit shielding. Several Marines guarding the dropship down below and from within were alerted to the enemy presence and moved to engage them as well.

Finally, the dropship itself lifted off and decided to change locations, since that one was now exposed and hot.

Things got dicey when another nearby enemy unit swooped in to assist the first, which by then was being cut to pieces from three different attack vectors.

The heavy Marine transport drew most of the fire, absorbing and blocking it with its shields. They could take it. And that allowed the defenders, like Kokey, to keep cutting the invaders down.

Then a pod of Ejjai gravtanks and two gunships also swept in, and a running fight ensued. The dropship took a major hit from one of the gunships.

In the hail of fire that was exchanged, Kokey’s shields and gravwing went down under intense fire, but her armor saved her.

She dropped down hard onto the roof of a high building, more or less stranded there.

To make things worse, another large contingent of Ejjai marched in from below on the streets of the small town, attracted by the fighting. By now, they were all 0.7 klicks from the original DZ.

The dropship blasted off, leaving the enemy behind.

But that also left Kokey behind.

Kokey found herself surrounded on top of that building. She fired her mini-gun, holding them off as best she could from above. She had her fixer convert more of her tek into an autogun, and kept up a steady rate of fire while she also hurled and directed smart grenades, microbombs, and float-seeker smartmines at targets.

Still the Ejjai kept coming.

Once she was out of explosives and ammo for her primary weapon, Kokey drew her backup blaster pistols and dueled with the enemy as they advanced.

At the last instant, a rear guard Marine element appeared directly behind the Ejjai and cut them down out of the sky and below down on the street.

Shetanna popped in back-to-back with Kokey, making the Marine jump. The MCL threw up a unit level shield pod around them both, right as about two dozen foes swarmed over the top of that roof.

Together, they took the rest of the attackers down, although Kokey only managed to shoot three more.

Shetanna buzzed around and hewed through the others with her glowing red sword blades in less than a flashing second.

“Hey, Miles,” Naero told her, clapping her on the back. “We’d better get that lousy suit of yours fixed. What’s wrong? I had eyes on you as I was circling in, staying out of your firing profiles. You were doing great. Although you did start to look a bit serious and concerned there toward the end.”

Kokey breathed a very visible sigh of relief. “Thanks for the assist, sir. For a few secs, I thought they had me.”

“Hey, like I said, you did great, Miles. Very adaptive. I came along and decided to lend a hand. I knew you had the situation under control. You didn’t mind a little help mopping up, right?”

“If you say so, sir. Not at all.”

“Hey, and good news. You’re not a rook anymore. Again, welcome aboard, Marine.”

Miles rolled her eyes, still catching her breath. “Ooh-rah, sir.”

Shetanna grinned back at her and clapped her on the shoulders once more. “That’s the spirit, Marine.”

Kemela Anthony tripped a shielding negation mine later that night, right before an attack started, exposing half of one entire platoon.

The Marines quickly overwhelmed the enemy position in any case. Anthony fought well.

Shetanna came by and told her not to worry too much. Such mines were everywhere and tricky for anyone to avoid. Everyone triggered one at some point during their various actions. It was a gaffe everyone made, eventually, even Shetanna herself.

Tucker James got jumped by several Ejjai who snuck in, concealing themselves under heaps of dead Ejjai prepared for fusion burn disposal.

He had his shields up. The slashers knocked him around at first with various grenades, and finally took down his shields. Then seven of them swarmed on him as he took them on and fired. The enemy went at him close up with various blades and energy blades.