Assault: The Globur Incursion Book 6, page 26
Like clockwork, the second set of shuttles came in and deposited four more platoons of Marines in the hangar bay under cover of the four empty ones. Captain Voss felt settled as the shuttles lifted off, and the new arrivals slid inside the newly formed perimeter, adding themselves to give it depth.
All the Marines had a map of the interior of Wallachia, as it was different from their home carrier, but the layout of the shield-class carriers was familiar to everyone as they had been in service a long time. Voss had already laid out the assault routes. “Alright, you know the plan. Do not get bogged down in a heavy fight. Bump and run. Get to engineering. Break the Globur attack. Unless I miss my guess—” The trembling deck stopped Voss cold.
A section of the bulkhead fell away and was filled with Globur. Beam weapons flashed across the hangar bay and found their targets. The Marines opened up with their assault rifles and grenades on sprint launch.
The Globur had emerged so that the Marines were between them and the shuttles holding station outside the bay. Some of the shuttles opened up, but the bulk of the Globur were too close to the Marines, and the heavy lasers could punch through a Marine suit as easily as they did a Globur one.
“Missiles!” yelled Voss. “Danger close! Company ground!” The Marines all dropped, getting personal with the deck plates for what was coming. He heard the platoon commanders ordering grenades on contact detonation. The front of the Globur swarm was lost in a firestorm.
The shuttles launched their missiles over the marines, and they detonated all around the Marines, buffeting them like a storm of fire. These were high-yield explosives, and they shredded the Globur mass. That did not stop the Globur from getting to the Marines. Voss saw casualties begin to register as the Marines began to orient fully toward the threat.
The initial panic was gone. He saw the flashing blades of the Marines in direct contact with the Globur and sent orders for an area-denial barrage of grenades directly in front of the Marines in contact to buy some breathing room. Laser bolts flashed and hammered into the aliens as they flowed over the first line of Marines. The answering incandescent beams scored some solid hits on Marine suits, taking them out of the fight for the moment. Heavy lasers from the heavy-weapons teams were blowing holes in Globur, dead and living alike.
Voss knew he would have a critical moment to turn the battle. The grenades for the area-denial pattern had been launched, set for command detonation. Marine doctrine for an ambush was to charge through it if possible. The thought of retreating to the shuttles crossed Voss’s mind only briefly. Instead, he sent the signal to the grenades. A wall of fire sprang up between the Marines and the open bulkhead.
“Attack!” ordered Voss as he sprang forward. “Alpha, go left! Bravo, right!” Marine suits vaulted over the Marines buried in dead and wounded Globur. Their assault rifles spat laser bolts, and the blade on their other arm flashed silver death among the Globur.
The Marines pushed to the bulkhead and peeled away near the hole made by the Globur. Voss had the first two platoons fire a spread of grenades in an area-denial pattern with a short delay on arming. He slid to a stop, sweating despite the climate control in his suit. Twenty-three Marines remained on the deck.
Voss’s suit detected more Globur coming at them, and the grenades launched beyond the bulkhead began to detonate as they sensed movement. “Shuttles, maximum power, suppressing fire,” ordered Voss. Eight shuttles with two turrets each poured fire into the jagged hole in the bulkhead. Voss knew that the lasers would chew through bulkheads behind, but he had already lost too many Marines to the Globur ambush. He was through taking chances. They could always fix the ship.
Voss mentally kicked himself. He had known that the Globur had come through bulkheads before. He had not expected to be ambushed in the hangar bay. It was a rookie mistake. That was when they were the most vulnerable, and the Globur had put themselves on the other side of the Marines so that the shuttles would not be as effective in their fire support role.
Voss took a deep breath and ordered a shuttle in to recover the wounded and dead Marines. “We have a job to do, people! Let’s get to it! Move out!”
The two groups of Marines moved quickly into the dark passages on either side of the hangar bay, leaving the carnage behind as the leading suits sprinted toward their objectives. The platoons would leapfrog their way to engineering. If one made contact, the following platoons could help or route around the contact to keep going. Considering the number of Globur that they had already seen, the crew of Wallachia and their fellow Marines did not have a lot of time.
***
Sergeant Major Sanderson arrived on site with his company commander, James. It was easy to find and track everyone since they were on a broad, grassy plain. Most of Khan was just like this. A few mountain ranges, but mostly flat, grassy plains with wide, slow rivers.
That was going to be a problem. It had not escaped his attention that the grass was higher than a Globur and that firing a laser bolt through a bunch of grass was not going to kill any Globur - unless it was at very close range, and he was lucky.
Globur shuttles approached. Simultaneously, suit-mounted hypervelocity missiles shot out. The previous antiair missiles would have been woefully inadequate, but the Hypervelocity Anti-threat Missiles, dubbed “hammys” by the Marines, did their jobs well.
The missiles were launched by a small rail gun integrated into the Marine suits. The crack of the rail gun mixed with the sonic boom from the small missile as it accelerated to seven times the speed of sound. The missiles only used the engine to course correct and home on the target. The company commander could task specific targets to suits. In this case, James sent two hammys to each inbound shuttle. They were 18 klicks out, so flight time was only just under eight seconds.
The Globur shuttles were beyond visual range and only engaged because they came above the curvature of the planetary surface. Sanderson’s suit recorded the destruction of the shuttles, and he noted muted flashes on the horizon.
The plan had been for the Marines to find high ground and dig in. They had hoped to have the mountains at their back and the Fleet in orbit for close-fire support along with their heavy weapons and missile-defense systems.
That had all gone for shit now. The second battalion’s transport had left a ruddy streak across the sky as it broke up, and the rest were still trying to evade missiles and escape orbit. For all they knew, the Fleet was still engaging the Globur. Strong jamming had sprung up when they began their landing. Comms were out except between the Marines on the planet since they were in line of sight.
The only good news was that casualties on the landing had been light. The hypersonic missiles meant that the Globur would have to get to them the old fashioned way, on foot—or claw in their case. That at least gave them some time.
The Marines had expected heavy attack and to be hit hard on the landing, but they had all overshot the landing site, and going back that way toward the main city was probably not a good move. They needed to prepare a reception for the enemy, who would surely come in force.
Sanderson looked around. He could see the many trails through the grass leading to their position. Each company had established an all-round defense because they were nowhere they were supposed to be, and they needed a new plan. The data from the linked suits showed they were on a plain bisected by two rivers. The biggest change in elevation was less than half a meter—hardly good cover. The nearest high ground, such as the ridge that was their intended LZ, was 80 klicks away.
“What’s the word, Skipper?” Sanderson asked James. “Aerial defenses are all up and running. Those hammys did some sweet work for us. What I wouldn’t give for a huge lawnmower right now.”
“You know what Oxblood would say to that?” James shot back tartly.
“Yeah, well she ain’t here. We can’t use stealth here—no use. Those Globur will see our tracks everywhere. This is going to be one shit battle. We can only hope their beam weapons are as badly attenuated by this grass as our lasers.”
“Yeah, working on that,” replied James. “Sante thinks the rivers can be hold points. Free field of fire. They aren’t too deep. Globur will see where we are and come after us. Maybe we can use their aggression against them. Sante is trying to sell it to the old man, but he has seven other battalion commanders chewing his ear.”
“Hah,” scoffed Sanderson. “Sante knows his shit. He’s the only battalion commander with combat experience, and he has us!” Sanderson waved his hand back and forth, as the Marines did to indicate they were shaking their head. “The old man will definitely not say no to Sante. Besides, I like that plan.”
“Well, I’ll be sure and tell the commander that you approve of his plan. It’ll give him goosebumps,” replied James.
‘Wow, Skipper, good sarcasm,” observed Sanderson. “Still needs some work, but you’re coming along.”
“Stand by for orders,” came over the command channel. James and Sanderson went silent, and a short pause was soon replaced by their new orders and a new plan. It seemed that Sante had got his way. It was really the only smart play anyway.
James shot routes and rendezvous points to the company. “Move out, people! Single file, at the double!” Streams of silver combat suits poured through the grass toward the river closest to the mountains and the city Ulaan. Two battalions headed to the rear, toward the second river, to create a defensive position on the same axis of advance. The division was going to build a defense in depth with strong hold points at each river.
By the time they were at the second point, the hope was that the Fleet would be in orbit for fire support.
Chapter 29
Rear Admiral Jones watched as the assault shuttles left TF14 ships that were headed for TF16. He knew what it was like to be boarded. In the last boarding, he had avoided direct combat with the Globur. He still remembered defending a redoubt on board the wreck of his old battleship, Ozu. That was before augmentation. He had been clad only in an orange emergency vac suit surrounded by Marines in combat suits. The Globur had come up the passageway like a living darkness, malignant black claws reaching out for them.
It had been his first time seeing a Globur, and it was not something he would soon forget. He knew that Rear Admiral Brown was likely fighting for his life aboard Wallachia. There were a lot more Globur pods on her—more than he remembered having assaulted Valkyrie in the Markus Nebula.
Jones briefly considered reversing course and offering his own Marines to assist, but there were other considerations in the operation. The Marine assault transports headed back toward him, and all showed damage. They had not been entirely successful in avoiding the Globur missile salvo fired at them on the way in.
One of the transports was missing, and a red smear across the atmosphere of Khan told its fate. The Marines were down on the planet. The second orbit to deliver their supplies and heavy weapons was not happening. The situation on the ground was unknown. Jamming had sprung up around the planet, and Globur surface-missile batteries were still searching for targets.
The Marines had landed on the hemisphere of Khan facing away from the Fleet task forces, so any line-of-sight communication that might punch through the jamming was impossible at present.
Jones knew he had to get the transports back into orbit and use his task force to suppress Globur missile batteries and ground-based defenses. If they could make contact with the Marines, they could also provide orbital-fire support. The new class destroyers and the assault transports all carried kinetic weapons for orbital bombardment.
Jones commed the Marine assault group. He knew the division commander would be on the planet, so he would get the senior captain of the ships. A man’s face quickly appeared. “Rear Admiral Jones, I’m in command of the assault group. All Marines have been landed on the planet. There were some heavy missile salvos, but there are no defense platforms in orbit that we saw.”
Jones was thankful for another stroke of luck. “TF17 will enter orbit and suppress the planetary defenses. You can follow us in and make your second drop.” The captain acknowledged, and Jones checked the flag plot. The assault group had already begun decelerating and shifting their vector.
TF17 would go in first and complete at least one orbit before the assault group would be able to maneuver for orbital insertion. They were carrying too much velocity at the moment. That suited Jones fine, since he had a feeling that this was a bit too easy.
So far, Fleet ship losses had been limited to only a few ships. The Marines had lost only a single transport. There was damage to all ships, but most was not too serious. Something they could fix once they secured the system. In Jones’s experience, their losses seemed too light.
Jones was pleased to see that they would make their orbital intercept with minimal correction. The plan for assaulting the system had worked perfectly. The ability to use their capital missiles to maximum effectiveness had really carried the day for them. That, and the fact that TF13 had seriously weakened the Globur battlegroup that had chased them out of the system.
Jones scanned over the damage codes for his ship. Some of the destroyers and cruisers were carrying moderate damage, and one of his battleships was heavily damaged. The quantum cannon was out, and there were several hull breaches from Globur attack ships ramming the ship right after their missiles boiled away a portion of the ship’s armor. Valkyrie was still in good shape. Moderate damage to hangar bay Foxtrot and some point-defense clusters were out.
A frown crossed Jones’s face. This is too easy. Sure, we brought some overwhelming firepower, but there is no way the Globur would make it this easy. What is going on down on the surface of Khan?
“Communications,” Jones spat out as he finished the thought. “We need to make contact with the landing force.”
“Nothing, sir,” replied his communications officer.
“What about LOS?” asked Jones. “We should be in line of sight soon.”
The officer shook her head again. “LOS systems are based on laser or tachyon beams, sir. There is just too much crap in the atmosphere. I’m scanning, but we don’t have anything yet. All we can do is hope they get a runner through.”
Jones nodded. A runner was a hypervelocity missile with a prerecorded message that the Marines could fire into space. They would probably send one up once they got organized on the ground. It was one sure way to beat the jamming—low tech, but effective.
“I want full-power scans as we approach the planet,” Jones ordered, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand up. The flag plot updated to show that TF16 had just lost a battleship. TF14’s assault shuttles had arrived in the formation, and it seemed that the Marines they had landed to assist the crew of the battleship had shared their fate.
Jones saw the Marine assault transports were beginning to match their vector as they fell in astern of his task force.
“Assault group commander,” Jones commed the commander of the Marines in an assault transport now empty of Marines, save the crews. The man’s face appeared immediately. “Reduce your velocity. Let us make an orbit before you come in. We need to make sure that things are safe.”
The officer looked a bit confused. “That’s not the procedure, Rear Admiral Jones. We’re carrying the division supplies and heavy weapons still. If the division is under attack, they’ll run through their combat loads quickly. We need—”
“What you need, Captain, is to follow my orders,” Jones shot back with more force than he really meant. Something was gnawing at him, but he did not know what.
“As you wish, Rear Admiral Jones,” replied the Marine officer, deadpan. “Our scanners show clear. We didn’t detect anything when we did the drop. If you’ve detected something, perhaps…”
“No, nothing detected,” Jones said. His brow creased as he considered the unpleasant thought that they had no real idea of enemy strength or disposition. “Can you share the location of the ground-based defenses? We can target them for over-the-horizon engagement.”
The Marine officer shook his head. “We were unable to pinpoint the launch facilities for the missiles, but they seemed to be launched from the ocean. High-energy beam weapons were numerous. We did identify that some are on some sort of mobile platform, so they have likely moved.”
It was Jones’s turn to shake his head. “Hold back, as I asked, Captain. Something doesn’t feel right. The Marines can wait for their supplies if it means making sure they actually get them.”
The Marine captain killed the link. Everyone knew what was at stake, and the Marines on the planet were supposedly equipped for a day of combat, though they could run out of grenades and antiair missiles if any attack was severe enough. Jones almost wished he were in Rear Admiral Pang’s position. All ships safe and providing aid to TF16. Instead, he was leading the assault group back into Khan's orbit.
“Runner, sir,” reported the communications officer as she piped through the message.
It was the division commander Colonel Shaka. “Landing complete, casualties minimal. Division is spread across a large area and consolidating. Primary and secondary landing zones overshot. Indications are that we have heavy incoming. We are setting up defensive lines to reduce enemy numbers. We will need close-fire support ASAP. Shaka out.”
A data packet showed the Marines had overshot the landing zone so that they were not in the planned highly defensible position but on one of the planet’s wide, grassy plains. Their primary defensive position would be at one of the rivers, with a fallback at the next river on the plain. After that, it was just more flat open plains. The Marines were caught out in the open. They would not last without support.
Jones knew that they needed to get over the Marines and scan for enemy movement. They needed to establish contact. They were not yet line of sight with the Marines on the ground, but the task force was slowing so they could remain provide fire support as they settled into geosynchronous orbit above the Marines in their next orbit and make sure the next drop from the assault transports was on target.
