Chapter 12: Strike and Fade

Evan jogged along beside Delta-seventeen as the personnel carrier slid through the garage on its trolley, the rails in the deck guiding it towards the waiting bay of the lander. The team was in full gear, ready for the drop, their helmets sealed and their XMRs in hand. The vehicle passed through the shimmering barrier of energy, jolting as it came to a sudden stop, the trolley locking into place. The team and its crew ran in after it, strapping themselves into the rows of seats that were bolted to the walls on either side of it, Evan securing his harness tightly. A mechanical clunk reverberated through the deck as the craft decoupled from the stern gate, the troop ramp slowly closing to obscure his view of the rows of shimmering docking ports.

These drops were routine, Evan had done real and simulated deployments more times than he could count, but the prospect of being hit by one of those Bug AA platforms made the whole ordeal twice as nerve-wracking. He remembered the state of the Penguin gunship that had made an emergency landing in the Rorke’s hangar, and how much damage it had taken. Landing and taking off were the stages when the heavy landers were at their most vulnerable.

“Looks like we’re going to get new orders on the ground,” Simmons announced over the radio. “We’re going in hot, so keep your wits about you.”

Turbulence buffeted the craft as it hit the atmosphere, threatening to shake it apart, the sound of straining metal filling the bay. Evan felt the tug of the G-forces as it decelerated, falling belly-down towards the ground. There were no windows – no way for him to see outside – but he knew that roiling flames were engulfing the lander.

A harder deceleration pressed him into his padded seat, then the lander touched down, the bay filling with light as the landing ramp descended with enough speed to swat a fly. The Puma’s trolley was released, the vehicle whizzing off down the ramp, skidding to a stop in the wet mud beyond. The passengers unbuckled themselves, running out to join it, Sergeant Simmons leading the way.

Evan ran out into the open air, the autumn canopy surrounding them on all sides, the gas giant’s vibrant bands of purple and blue dominating the sky above their heads. They were in a clearing, several more landers touching down around them, disgorging their own vehicles. A temporary command center had been set up nearby, a small prefab building with a large satellite dish on the roof, surrounded by defensive walls made from hesco units that had been packed with earth. Several cupcakes had been dropped to form a protective perimeter – portable CIWS guns designed for air defense that got their name from their muffin-shaped radar domes.

Ahead of the landing site was the battalion’s artillery company, a row of eight Avalanches. They were built on the same chassis as the Kodiak MBT, but their turrets had been replaced with massive, long-range railguns capable of delivering high-explosives and other specialized munitions. Their long barrels were angled up, high above the trees. As he glanced towards the sky, a pair of Penguins screamed overhead, unloading their payload of missiles at something in the distance. Billows of flame rose above the treetops, the craft banking off, flares trailing behind them as they avoided streams of plasma fire from below. They had dropped right into the middle of a warzone.

The team knelt in the mud, covering the vehicle crew as they mounted up, the Puma’s engine roaring to life. The two Kodiaks that had dropped alongside them were already trundling away towards the treeline, leaving deep tracks in the wet dirt. Evan felt the ground shake, turning to see a trio of dropships rising up into the air on plumes of bright flame, the backwash strong enough to buffet him.

A man in Marine armor came running out of the command post, skipping the small flight of stairs, the low gravity making the short drop trivial. He approached Simmons, tapping the side of his helmet in a gesture to switch to the local channel. Evan did the same, listening in on the exchange.

“You guys the reinforcements for Delta company?” he asked, appraising the IFV.

“Yes, sir,” Simmons replied. “What’s the situation?”

“Deep-scan radar has uncovered an underground weapons storage facility,” the man explained. “It’s probably supplying all the critters in the area with munitions and gear. There are tunnel entrances all over this valley, and they’re all fortified. The Bugs are putting up one hell of a fight, but the battalion has pushed through the perimeter, and we’re trying to secure one of the entrances so that we can move in Trog teams with demo gear. Delta company needs reinforcements – I’m sending you their coordinates now. There are no roads here, so the carrier made some for us. Just follow those.”

The Avalanches suddenly fired off a salvo in quick succession, Evan ducking reflexively as they shook the earth. Their cannons rocked back on their dampeners, the vehicles heaving under the strain, the projectiles traveling so quickly that he couldn’t even see them. His helmet muffled the sound to protect his ears, but he could feel it in his guts, like a sonic boom.

“Got it,” Simmons said, checking the info that had been sent to his wrist computer. “Squad, mount up!”

They loaded into the Puma’s troop bay, strapping in as it began to drive off. Jade was sitting across from him, Evan seeing her watching him through the tinted visor of her helmet. He gave her a nod, then switched to the external camera feed, watching as the vehicle sped towards the edge of the clearing. It veered onto another heading, Evan spying its destination ahead. A straight path a good fifty meters wide had been cleared through the forest. The carrier had clearly used its ventral railguns to carve out a route for the vehicles, the hypervelocity slugs pulverizing the trees, not even leaving their stumps intact. It looked like a giant blowtorch had been dragged across the forest. The ground was pocked with craters that had quickly filled with water, the Puma bouncing as it made its way through the ravaged terrain. He could see the two Kodiaks that had set off before them, driving maybe half a klick ahead.

Protecting the moon’s ecology was paramount, but this wasn’t something that would inflict lasting damage, as violent as it was. The forest would recover in time.

Over their heads, another formation of Penguins flew over, strafing the trees below with their cannons. More return fire painted green trails across the sky, warding them off, forcing them to bank up and out of range. Missiles streaked towards them, but they were diverted by flares. The gunships were wise to the AA guns now, and they were being cautious.

Explosions suddenly rose above the canopy, about where the enemy had been firing from, the trails of plasma stopping abruptly. That must be the artillery company – they were honing in on the Bugs, the Penguins luring them out before calling in their coordinates.

The Puma continued on for a while, joining the two Kodiaks, the tanks stopped ahead of them. There was a six-wheeled Timberwolf parked just off the road in the shade of the trees, one of the crew members standing halfway out of the hatch on the roof, waving to them as they approached.

Simmons seemed to have a conversation with him for a moment, then he switched to the local channel again.

“Driver, take us to the following coordinates,” he said as he tapped at his touch display. “We’re going to be reinforcing the right flank. They’re moving up on a fortified position, and the Kodiaks can’t break through without infantry support.”

The Puma veered off the road, following the tanks through the forest, the larger vehicles weaving between the trees as they tried to find the safest path. The terrain was much rougher now, Evan feeling the IFV rock and shake as its eight wheels struggled to deal with the roots.

They eventually came upon a scene of battle. What looked like the rest of Delta company was lined up at the edge of a clearing, Pumas and Kodiaks taking cover in the treeline. The troops had dismounted from their vehicles and were laying down fire on a structure in the distance. Across a few hundred meters of open ground was a fortified building, an immense earthwork that rose up to form a wall. It seemed to be constructed using the same means as the buildings back in the tether port. They were made from densely packed dirt, which was covered over with a kind of hard, clear resin. There were several layers of defenses. At the rear was a sloping embankment surrounded by a deep trench, like something from an archaic hill fort. Lower walls ringed it, providing cover for the defenders, Evan spotting glimpses of Bugs as they sent bolts of plasma streaking back towards the attackers. Finally, there was a forest of conical structures that rose only a meter from the ground. They were dragon’s teeth, he realized – a kind of simple tank trap. No wonder the Kodiaks couldn’t breach the defenses. Had they devised those so quickly after encountering tracked vehicles for the first time?

He could see where shells had impacted the slopes and walls, carving out deep craters, but not penetrating. The clearing looked like the surface of the moon, likely due to artillery bombardment, but the Bugs held firm. Their defenses were thick, probably filled with both soil and rocks, the same logic employed in the UNN’s hesco defenses. Instead of packing mesh bags with soil or sand, the Bugs shaped their defensive structures using their resin, the dirt proving surprisingly effective at stopping incoming fire. It was amazing that something so outwardly primitive could be such an obstacle.

The Puma pulled into formation, taking up a position with a view of the defenses, the blister firing off thirty-millimeter slugs to cover the team as they dismounted. They threw themselves into the cover of the trees and the dense undergrowth, Evan shouldering his rifle, leaning it on a felled log as he looked through the scope. Across the clearing, he could see the outer wall of the structure, which was surrounded by a deep trench. It was set up like the crenelations of a medieval castle, the Drones peeking through the gaps to fire at the attackers. They weren’t very high, only rising to the chests of the defenders, leaving enough space for them to pop up and fire over them. What they were was thick, wider than they were tall, able to stop even railgun slugs dead in their tracks. Behind them was the sloping wall of the fort proper. There were more crenelations on top of it like battlements, Bugs firing from the elevated position.

“All of this just to protect a Bug hole?” Hernandez asked, popping up beside Evan to fire off a few slugs. “Those fuckers really don’t want us gettin’ inside!”

“This weapons depot probably keeps the whole valley armed,” Jade explained, taking up position to Evan’s right. “Taking it out will strike a crippling blow to their operations. It means they’ll have to ship in gear from other depots, maybe even overground if we’re lucky.”

“Why not just bomb it from orbit?” Hernandez asked as he slid back into cover behind the log. “If the carriers can clear forests, they can blow the fuck out of this sandcastle.”

“Bugs dig deep,” Jade replied. “The actual storage area will be too deep to reach without doing serious damage to the biosphere, and collapsing the entire fort with an orbital strike would definitely destroy the fortifications, but it would probably bury the entrance and collapse the tunnels near the surface. It’s easier to capture it conventionally.”

“And that’s why we’re here,” Evan added. “The tanks can’t get through, so I’d bet we’re about to be sent in there on foot to clear it out.”

He peeked over the log again, using his scope to zoom in on the Bugs. He felt a shiver slide down his spine like a cold finger as he saw one of the Drones looking in his direction as it peeked between the crenelations. It was the same variety that had attacked the convoy, its jaw-like mandibles hanging off the bottom of its helmet, its spider-like eyes pointing in different directions. He steeled himself, gripping his XMR more tightly. These things were faster, smarter, and better-equipped than an average Drone, but a railgun slug would bring them down just the same. They wouldn’t get the drop on him this time...

The exchange of fire was constant. The near side of the walls and the slope almost looked like the surface of a puddle being disturbed by raindrops, tungsten splashing against the packed dirt, cracking the resin. Most of the foliage on the company’s side of the clearing was on fire thanks to the constant barrage of plasma, creating a kind of smokescreen that would probably have been problematic without rebreathers. The Bugs weren’t hitting anything, but they were succeeding in keeping the Marines pinned down.

The ground shook each time one of the Kodiaks fired, and although their AP rounds kicked up torrents of earth where they impacted, even they weren’t powerful enough to make it all the way through. One thing that was having an effect were the mortars, the shells timed to explode just above the ground, where they showered the defenders in red-hot shrapnel. Those that fell were quickly replaced as more Bugs swarmed out of the tunnel-like entrances to the fort, simply stepping over their bodies with callous disregard to fill their positions.

“If they have more Bugs than we have ammo, this ain’t gonna end well,” Hernandez growled as he popped up to fire again. “How the hell do they expect us to get across that open ground, anyway? We can’t follow behind the IFVs, not with all that shit in the way.”

“The tanks are gonna try something,” Sergeant Simmons replied. “Stand by.”

One of the Kodiaks at the other end of the line began to drive out into the open, the Bugs turning their guns on it. The plasma from their weapons splashed harmlessly against its forward armor, not hot enough to make it through. Mounted on one of the hardpoints on the side of its turret was a long tube, rotating into position to face the fort. A spiraling rocket shot out of it on a plume of smoke, trailing a long cable behind it, the line draping itself over the terrain. It was a line charge – a device used to destroy mines and other fortifications. Explosions rippled along its length as it detonated between the dragon’s teeth, but when the smoke cleared, they remained intact.

“Well, shit,” Simmons muttered. “That didn’t fucking work.”

“We cannot stay here,” Borzka hissed, a bolt of plasma impacting the tree that he was hiding behind. It scorched the trunk, peeling away the bark like paper. “Now would be the time for a bayonet charge.”

“Through this?” Brooks chuckled. “Be my guest, but I’m not going out there without a smokescreen, at least. That’s what we call a kill zone.”

“They’re trying to call in a Beewolf,” Simmons said. “If they can paint a target, it can deliver a warhead that’ll clear a path, hopefully without collapsing the whole structure like an orbital strike would.”

“What’s the holdup?” Hernandez asked, ducking reflexively as a nearby Kodiak fired over their heads.

“All of the enemy AA needs to be cleared out first. Just keep firing on those Bugs. The longer we can keep them pinned, the better.”

Evan rose up to brace his XMR against the fallen log again, watching as more mortars exploded above the Bug fortifications. The shells left ring-shaped clouds of smoke that slowly drifted away on the breeze, pocking the mud beneath them with molten shrapnel, half a dozen Bugs collapsing as their carapaces were perforated. Another HE round from a Kodiak exploded against one of the sloped walls of the main structure, but it did little more than dig a wide crater into its surface.

He could see the Drones leaning out of cover, most of them wielding long rifles, sending volleys of plasma towards the forest. It was random, undirected, serving only to keep their targets suppressed. There were no tanks or warriors that he could see, but they had a tendency to pop up where they were least expected.

A sudden whistling sound alerted him to an incoming projectile, and he took cover again, an explosion followed by a shower of dirt rocking him.

“Mortars!” the sergeant warned. “Looks like the critters are bringing up more munitions from underground!”

More mortars sounded, a whole volley of shells raining down on the company. Some were chemical canisters, yellow gas starting to drift between the trees as they disgorged their payload, while others were explosive. They impacted atop the vehicles, but the armor was too thick for them to pose much of a threat. Those that landed in the midst of the troops proved far more deadly, Evan catching a glimpse of a trio of Marines who had been taking cover in a nearby dugout as they were turned to red vapor, a shell finding its mark.

“God damn!” Hernandez exclaimed, watching the canopy warily. “Sarge, shouldn’t we get back inside the fucking Puma? We’re sittin’ ducks out here!”

“Hang on,” he replied, one finger to the side of his helmet. “The Beewolf is coming in. When that bomb hits, the Pumas are gonna advance, and we’re gonna move up behind them. Be ready!”

“Fuck!” Hernandez spat, rising to let off a few more shots. Evan did the same, sighting one of the Drones as it peeked out above its wall atop the fort, a well-placed slug taking off its head. It slumped out of view, one of its neighbors responding with a stream of plasma that forced him back behind the log.

Another whistle alerted them to a salvo of mortars, Evan bracing himself, not knowing where they were going to land. Instead of the thud of shells, there was a sound like a buzzsaw, fragments of broken branches raining down from the canopy above. He glanced up to see a stream of glowing tracer fire, so dense as to form an unbroken line, weaving back and forth through the trees. It changed targets rapidly, spraying quick bursts with machine precision, the blasts from the intercepted mortars shaking the forest.

Behind them, a Kestrel trundled forward, its eight wheels bouncing over the roots. The AA platform was based on the same chassis as the Puma, but its crew compartment had been gutted to accommodate the large turret that sat atop it, the long barrels of its rotary guns pointing into the air. It was like a CIWS gun on wheels, the ball-shaped camera pod beside its radar array snapping to and fro as it locked onto targets.