Assault: The Globur Incursion Book 6, page 33
The Globur line seemed to falter, but then the larger Globur pushed though, shrugging off the Marine rifle bolts. Sanderson pushed his rifle to 150% output. The sounds around him were like a buzzsaw as Marines bolts lit up the dawn and smoke in a near constant light punctuated by return fire from the Globurs and flashes of the plasma grenades still raining on the Marine positions.
Sanderson’s rifle exploded in his hands. He yanked another Marine back into the trench as a Globur heavy beam hit the lip of the trench. Don’t matter. Bastards are close now. He slumped back and brought up his hands to his chest, and the twin blades slid out and locked into place. Sanderson noticed that the other Marine was not even from his company. He also deployed his blades.
When the Globur got too close, they could not risk using the heavy beam weapons anymore since they might hit their own.
Where was the damn Fleet?
Chapter 37
Karl Zenke was in position. Rapier’s kinetic bombardment system was fully operational as they prepared to make the run through Khan’s orbit over the Marine positions.
Three squadrons of heavy fighters were in their escort positions, and TF17’s frigates had just launched a salvo of attack missiles with BPL warheads. Another salvo of attack missiles with contact fusion warheads had already been launched. They would be command detonated in orbit to force the Globur pods to reveal themselves.
The BPL warhead missiles would provide an escort of a sort, hopefully taking out any Globur ship-pod that unmasked itself before it could fire on Rapier.
The time for the FDF—final defensive fire—on the Marine positions was guesswork. They knew the Marines would be in the second position and that they were likely under attack. Everyone hoped that another runner would come up from the planet, since timing was critical.
Zenke checked the holoplot. They were in a holding pattern, and the salvo of attack missiles came up beside them. He did not have a great feeling about the risk he was taking with his ship.
The kinetic bombardment systems were new, only built into the latest model destroyer. It had long been seen as barbaric to use kinetic strikes on a planetary surface, so barbaric it actually violated several imperial laws. Kinetic strikes were a war crime.
However, the Globur definitely did it. Khan bore the scars for all to see. Finally, the Fleet and the Senate interpreted that kinetic bombardment systems could be made available, but it would still be a crime to use them against imperial citizens or humans in general. A fine line, but it did get them the bombardment systems.
The new system, like all new systems, was twitchy. The current system was based on a design almost 400 years old. There had been no time for testing or a shakedown. Unfortunately, the norm these days.
Another first, Zenke thought, disgusted. For all we know, the Marines are already wiped out. Sounds like they took a beating at the first positions. They had time to harden their fortifications at the second position, but will that make a difference? We won’t have much time over their position. We need to make this run count—if we even survive to launch a bombardment.
“Runner, sir!” yelled the tactical officer. He routed the message through to the bridge. Everyone was at battle stations. Rapier had no atmosphere, it had been pumped down in preparation, and everyone had their armor active, silver statues at the bridge stations and throughout Rapier.
The message was short, even by Marine standards. “This is Colonel Shaka,” came an even voice, as if the colonel were ordering lunch. “We need immediate fire support. Final defensive fire now! Coordinates encoded. We are almost out of runners.”
“That’s it. Full power on the gravity drive! Take us in!” ordered Zenke to his crew and the 36 escorting heavy fighters—Valkyrie’s entire complement. Rapier surged forward, and Zenke could feel the compensators fighting the crushing g-load. The attack missiles followed their programming and began to spread out into Khan's orbit while the BPL warhead armed missiles kept formation with Rapier as she streaked toward Khan.
Zenke checked the shields. They were at 100%. Rapier was at 105% power on the gravity drive. That was something of a miracle from engineering, but that was why he had kept Hadrian Singwa as his chief engineer. Shields would likely decide if they lived through this.
“Navigation,” Zenke barked. “I want to dive into the atmosphere as we pass over the Marines to maximize our time on target.” The navigator acknowledged as the planet loomed larger.
Zenke knew if they were deeper in the atmosphere, any Globur pods chasing them would show up, even if they were in stealth—at least that was his hope. The kinetic bombardment was already programmed in, and they might get two volleys as they passed overhead. That would be enough to take out anything within about five klicks of the Marine positions for sure—and the Globur liked to pack in tightly.
“We’ll have scans in less than half a minute, sir,” the tactical officer reported.
This is where things got interesting last time, Zenke thought grimly. Rapier bucked as the destroyer dove into the atmosphere.
The ship was not designed for atmospheric operation. It would slow them a little. He needed all the help he could get if he was going to get those two volleys from the kinetic bombardment system. It fired dense-alloy slugs that hit the ground at extremely high velocity with an effect very much like a nuclear detonation, but without the radiation.
The initial scans showed huge swaths of smoke coming from the plain where the Marines were located. That was something they had seen from a distance, but the sight up close was truly amazing. The smoke plumes were already hundreds of kilometers long.
“Contact,” spat the tactical officer as several BPL warheads detonated, their focused nuclear blasts generating a beam that hit the pods taking aim at Rapier. Some of the BPL warheads did not get clean hits. The beams only grazed the pods. Many missed the small craft altogether. Rapier’s shields lit up as Globur beams burned across them.
Rapier spun to spread the load across her shield quadrants. Contact fusion warheads began to detonate and exposed some pods. More BPL warheads detonated, taking out the pods that were firing at the destroyer.
“Runner, sir!” yelled communications.
Colonel Shaka did not sound as calm as before. “Shaka here. Last runner. Send immediate fire support! Hit my position! We are being overrun! Fire on my position!” The message cut off suddenly.
Rapier shuddered her way through the upper atmosphere at hypersonic velocities. Zenke saw the Marine position marked on the planet's surface by the AI. It was completely obscured by smoke from fires burning all around it. “Tactical?” he queried.
The tactical officer knew what his captain was thinking. “Sir, we can’t hit the position with the kinetic bombardment. It would cause heavy Marine casualties.”
“Bring the torpedoes batteries online,” Zenke said tensely as Rapier took a missile hit from a Globur pod, yawing the destroyer off its course slightly.”
“Sir, they could be incinerated,” the tactical officer warned.
“A Marine colonel does not call down fire on his own position unless things are truly desperate,” Zenke spoke, his jaw tense. “Set up for airburst. The fireball will not touch the ground, but the shockwave should get the job done. Marine suits are more survivable than Globur ones—I hope. Besides, I have friends down there.”
Comms!” Zenke pinged the communication officer. “Anything?”
“Nothing, sir,” she shot back. “Better use a runner before we’re over the horizon.”
Zenke pressed his lips together and keyed up a runner, recording a short message. “Fire mission inbound. Kinetic strike. Danger close, followed by fusion warheads on position. Ground on kinetic strike.” He hit send, and the high-velocity missile shot away from Rapier. It would broadcast the message until it was destroyed or hit the ground.
The tactical officer pushed the torpedo calculations to the AI as the first salvo of kinetic weapons launched. “First salvo away!” he announced. Rapier shook hard from several beam hits that had penetrated her shields. The escorting BPL warheads had all been expended, rapidly destroying Globur pods closing on Rapier. It was up to the fighters to get them out of this now. The space around Rapier was alive with point-defense lasers and interceptor missiles pouring from Rapier’s launchers. Globur missiles chased the destroyer as she began to climb out of the atmosphere.
Zenke noted that the pods did indeed show up as targets this deep in the atmosphere, which had enabled the BPL warheads to score solid hits. More seemed to be appearing, despite the number already destroyed. Not a surprise considering the damage they had inflicted on TF17. Rapier’s laser batteries engaged pods as they appeared.
“AI says a four-torpedo spread, denotation at 1100 meters, sir,” the tactical officer reported.
“Fire at will!” snapped Zenke. He watched a fighter take a missile meant for Rapier. There was nothing left in the fading glow of the nuclear fire.
“Firing! Torpedoes away!” reported the tactical officer as the bombardment system finished cycling and fired the second salvo. “Second salvo away,” confirmed the tactical officer.
Rapier shuddered as she climbed clear of the thick atmosphere and back into space where she belonged. The heavy fighters were launching torpedoes at the Globur pods still closing on Rapier. She was trailing debris, and two of her shield quadrants were down. Some of the fighters did not look like they could take another hit and stay functional.
Zenke could see that the ship’s gravity drive was well beyond maximum as they accelerated away from Khan’s orbit. Zenke had his attention focused where they had just passed over. He saw the flash of heavy fusion warheads near the surface—four of them in unison.
“Impact and detonation,” reported the tactical officer. Zenke thought he could feel the officer sweating out the strike. “On target, sir. On the coordinates provided. Good strike.”
More Globur pods were racing over the horizon at Rapier as she pulled away from Khan. Some of the fighters had exhausted their torpedoes and were using their heavy-laser cannon, but these took many shots to destroy a pod.
The holoplot showed dozens of pods closing on Rapier as they cut through the atmosphere to get at her faster. Rapier was on a straight-line speed course to get away as quickly as possible. They had laid down the fire support that the Marines sorely needed and made it out of the atmosphere. Now the Globur were coming for Rapier, to make her pay for her impetuous run.
Zenke saw TF17 racing across Rapier’s bow, and the navigator began to change course toward the safety of the task force. “Hold course,” Zenke ordered. “Rear Admiral Jones is lining up those pods for a turkey shoot. Let’s just hope TF17 gets them before they get us.”
Zenke’s comm lit up. It was his chief engineer, Singwa. “The gravity drive is overheating, Captain. We cannot keep this up much longer.”
“I know, Hadrian. We only need another minute and a half, and we might live through this.”
Singwa smiled. “Oui, Captain. The minute you shall have!” The link terminated, and Zenke watched with fascination as some of the approaching pods launched missiles at Rapier, and others used their beams to seek her out in the darkness.
Zenke knew he dared not take any evasive maneuvers. That would only let the Globur pods close more quickly. Speed was their salvation. Two of the beams struck Rapier amidships. The destroyer shuddered. They had lost a laser battery. All weapons on the destroyer fired continuously now, as the pods were in range of every weapon.
The fighters still attacked the pods relentlessly, but all their torpedoes had been expended. Then Zenke saw what he had hoped for. TF17 launched a full salvo of attack missiles. The remaining task force destroyers launched torpedoes at the pods that had chased Rapier into open space, where they were vulnerable.
Rapier’s straight course meant that the pods were also at full power, giving chase, making them easier to detect and target. Six vanished as TF17 battleships scored hits with their quantum cannon. The closure rate was dizzyingly fast, but Rapier would actually flash across the front of TF17’s formation, making the pods easy targets, unless they disengaged.
Heavy laser batteries opened up on the pods as Rapier shuddered under beam hits from the Globur pods. The missiles arrived in among the pods, and the shoal of contacts began to wither like embers lost in the night sky.
Rapier bucked hard, and a shudder ran the length of the tortured ship. “Gravity drive is out, Captain,” reported the navigator.
Zenke smiled. Got my one minute. Got two, even.
***
Sanderson heard the message from the runner. His heart leaped as he recognized the voice. Sanderson felt the ground shaking from the Fleet kinetic strikes around his position. His scanner showed inbound torpedoes arriving very soon. The confusion on the comm net was stomped on by someone shouting a command every Marine knew all too well. “Ground!”
All over the position, Marines dove for cover and drove their hands and feet into the ground. Some were too heavily engaged in hand-to-hand to break free from the Globur who were all over the position. Sanderson hacked at them with his blades, holding them at bay for the moment as part of a small cluster of Marines, mostly from the Blue Meanies, dove to the ground.
He dove to the ground as the world turned incandescent white. His suit compensated to save his vision, and a titanic shockwave hammered down on the Marine position.
The new model Marine combat suit was built to withstand tactical nuclear weapons, and Sanderson had seen firsthand that Marines could survive them when they had withdrawn from the first position. He hoped it could withstand more than one impact. He was pressed to the ground as his suit registered immense pressure and heat from the shockwave.
Once it passed, he tried to roll over, only to find he was embedded in the ground. He pushed himself upright to take in the hellish scene around him. The Marine position had been stripped bare. The entrenchments and bunkers were still there, but there was absolutely no vegetation.
Other Marines began to stand. Here and there, Globur flailed around, wounded and missing limbs. One near him weakly waved its claw in his direction. He moved over to the Globur and saw that its armored suit oozed fluid from the seams and joints. The Globur made a clicking noise with its mandibles. Sanderson simply stomped on its head, nodding in satisfaction when it stopped moving entirely.
His display had reset and began to populate with the transponders of his company. James was still alive, and she came over the comm. “Blue Meanies! Perimeter on me!”
She was only about 60 meters away. Sanderson jogged over. As he got closer, he noticed the suit tagged as Captain James was almost black. Clearly, she had not been able to go to ground before the nukes hit their position.
“Sanderson!” she sounded relieved. “You made it!”
“Yeah, did you hear who that was?” Sanderson shouted. “I knew Captain Zenke would find a way!”
James pointed up. The nukes had ripped open a hole in the smoke, and debris trails could be seen all across the sky. “Looks like Captain Zenke took a hell of a risk. Those aren’t pieces of an imperial destroyer. AI says some sort of ship or platform, Globur ones.
“Damn right! I knew Zenke wouldn’t let us down.” The remains of the Blue Meanies had formed a perimeter and were scanning for Globur. “Contacts?” asked Sanderson to no one in particular.
“No contacts, Sergeant Major. All clear,” came the crisp reply from several Marines.
Sanderson had lost track of time in the fighting, particularly the fierce hand-to-hand fighting. It felt like he had been going nonstop for days.
“Old man says to consolidate near the command post,” James informed Sanderson. “This break may not last long.”
“Alright, Blue Meanies! Move out!” barked Sanderson in his best sergeant-major voice. he noticed that only every other Marine still had an assault rifle. “Scrounge up an assault rifle or two on your way,” he added.
Sanderson popped his faceplate and was immediately hit with warm, moist air and the acrid smell of the burning grass, now some distance from their position. Smoke still blew across the plain and carried with it the sickly stench of charred Globur corpses. Some of the ones left alive still flailed around, unable to rise because the blast had removed most of their appendages. It still felt good to breathe the outside air.
Sanderson inhaled deeply. Combat on a planet was a whole new level. The Globur seemed as well practiced at ground combat as they were in space. He saw Marine suits that had failed to rise from the ground. The orange sealing foam told the tale of the damage that had killed the Marine inside. Imperial Marines had not given up their lives easily. Each downed suit was surrounded by a pile of damaged and dismembered Globur.
Some of the larger Globur were also down, still smoking from the blast. Being so large, they had nowhere to hide, and they caught the blast squarely. They had been almost unstoppable to the Marine suit weapons and standard assault rifles. They could only be taken out by concentrating heavy lasers on them to find a beam trap, a place where the beam could not just bounce off. It was that or a lucky hit to the huge weapon they carried.
If we don’t get our heavy weapons, we won’t make it, Sanderson thought as he looked skyward at the trails of burning debris. The Globur appeared to still be keeping TF17, and the Marine transports out of orbit.
Sanderson closed up his suit again. His display showed him nothing moving within range of his scanners. The landscape was now pocked with craters from the kinetic bombardment. It was remarkably effective. He turned and walked into the perimeter that the Blue Meanies had set up, feeling a tightness in his chest when he saw how many had fallen.
He saw two suits down surrounded by Globur, big ones. They still smoked from the blast of the strike, the heat coming off them in waves. It was clear these Marines inside were dead. Sanderson’s suit tagged the IDs, and he stopped in his tracks. Antonetti. Damn it.
