Border Wars, page 23
part #8 of On Silver Wings Series
Behind them, the Lucians holding the gap followed, the last one on board hitting the door hydraulics controls as he yelled something in their language that Strickland honestly missed but didn't need to understand to know what was said.
The APC took off again, throwing them backwards as the six big tires chirped against the ground.
A shot went off, and Strickland flinched as he heard a ricochet inside the APC.
"Secure that weapon!" He snarled, pissed though he knew that it was the sort of thing that happened with live weapons in a chaotic situation like this. "Secure your weapons, everyone damn it!"
His men followed orders, and calls of 'safetied!' echoed around the APC as Strickland scrambled forward to lean into the drivers compartment.
He looked, wide eyed at the trio manning the stations there, turning slowly to Private Jackly.
"Why is he driving, Private?" Strickland asked, his voice low but his tone making up for the lack of volume.
Jackly looked back at him and just shrugged.
"You want to tell him he can't? Because you left me alone with these lunatics, and I wasn't going to."
*****
Hiram swore as he watched the vehicle pick up a combat squad and accelerate away at high speed.
"Why did no one tell me that there was fighting at the spaceport!?" He demanded incredulously.
Information like that was rather important to determining small things, like what the hell the enemy was trying to do!
No one answered him, of course, but that didn't matter for the moment.
"Bring the rest of our squadron in through the main avenue, I want every route in and out of the space port blocked."
"Captain! We have an issue..."
Hiram turned on the man, eyes blazing, "What?"
*****
"Ok, time to get out of here," Strickland said as he dropped into a seat and pulled the restraints on.
"Where is Aida?" Kris demanded, looking back over the group that had boarded. "I do not see the Colonel."
"She's arranging her own extraction," Strickland growled, "Not happy about it, her call."
Kris snorted, sounding unsurprised as he turned back.
"I see. Unsurprising," He said, "I wish her the best then, and it is... as you say, time to leave."
The APC was now back up to speed, buildings blurring as they raced passed the hangars and other infrastructure of the port, drawing occasional fire from the tanks, but not giving the enemy any time to get a decent shot.
"Sir! We have a problem!" Jackly called suddenly.
"What now!?" Strickland just kept himself from swearing.
"Inbound contact! BIG inbound contact!"
Strickland brought up the APC's systems through his implants, eyes glowing as they began projecting information across his retinas.
This time, he didn't stop himself from swearing.
*****
Chapter 24
Allah's Word
Ishal was monitoring the information from the surface, noting the various alerts and flash traffic running over the local networks as the fighting escalated at the very facility they were about to land at.
What is going on down there?
Whatever it was, he supposed that he would have to deal with it.
The local combat network was locked down, but his access was sufficient to access it once he was close enough for the communication systems on the Word to link in. Ishal took a few moments on approach, examining the situation through the eyes of the soldiers on the ground.
The unknown armored vehicle was fast, and made good use of cover from what he could see, but they had none to speak of from above.
Why haven't the locals launched air support, at the very least? He wondered, before finding his answer in one of the notes attached to the files he was accessing.
Apparently the situation caused a lockdown on all flights in and out, and it had inadvertently been extended to include military flights since the entire area was protected airspace that the Word itself was expected to be inhabiting.
Ishal sighed at the stupidity of it, but there was nothing to be done int hat direction for the moment.
"Weapons!"
"Sir!" The officer at the weapons station responded quickly.
"Report on our air ground emplacements?"
"Ready to fire, Captain."
"Very well, lock onto the target and destroy them." He ordered wearily.
"Yes Captain."
Ishal watched as the man got to work, waiting for the confirmation that the shot had gone out, but after several moments nothing had happened.
"Lieutenant?" He asked, irritated.
"Sorry Sir," The officer mumbled, "I'm attempting to lock onto the target but... I don't know, there's something wrong."
"Just get it done!"
"Y-yes sir!"
Ishal rolled his eyes, annoyed, but let the man get back to his duty. After a moment the man nodded.
"Firing, Sir!"
There was no sound of the weapon discharging, it was far too small for the report to filter through the other distractions going on, but Ishal saw the alert signal the shot went out. He watched the screen as the blast lanced down onto the target.
*****
Lightning from the sky flashed, lighting up the world around them with a blinding light that blew out all the scanners the APC had as they overloaded from the energy. Strickland swore as the thunderclap slapped into the side of the vehicle with enough force to rock the multi ton vehicle up on its side tires.
"What the hell was that!?"
Strickland didn't even bother to look around to see who was yelling.
"The enemy has air support," He said simply, "We need to get out of here!"
"I can get us under cover, the hangars..." The driver offered.
"No!" Kris snapped, "They will simply target the building."
"He's right," Strickland said, "Odds are we're only still alive because of the ECM. Stay mobile, stay fast! Get us out of here."
"As you say!"
The APC continued to hurtle along the tarmac, but their cover of buildings was about to run out and there would be nothing to hide them from the tanks in a few more short moments.
*****
Allah's Word
"You missed."
Ishal's tone was cold and sharp enough to severe limbs and leave the remains frostbitten, but he said nothing more as he awaited a response from the officer.
"I... I'm sorry, Captain. There is something fogging the targeting scanners, I cannot explain it!"
Ishal sighed, examining the data himself.
There was indeed an issue there, something was making the scanners return very fuzzy and indistinct information.
"They have some type of scrambler," He decided, "Very well, weapons control to my station!"
"You have control, Captain."
Ishal frowned as he coded the targeting data himself, eying the racing vehicle briefly before entering the last bits of data and issuing the order to fire from his own station.
The weapon fire lanced out from the ship, aimed not at the target but at a section of ground ahead of it. He watched as the explosion tore up the tarmac, the vehicle skidding as it tried to avoid the hole, then smiled as it toppled in and rolled to a stop on it's side.
Ishal put aside the weapon controls, "Situation resolved. Bring us in for the landing and offloading of supplies as ordered."
"Yes Captain!"
*****
Everything was ringing, and everything hurt.
Strickland groaned, he could feel a wet trickle running down his face and cursed the fact that they'd not taken a few moments to put their damn helmets back on.
"Check in," He mumbled, barely understanding his own words. He took a breath, swallowed blood, then spoke again as clearly as he could, "Check in."
His men started calling out, and Strickland heard Kris doing the same with the Lucians. No one was in great shape, but he didn't see anyone flatlined on the telemetry he could access through the suits.
"Helmets on," He ordered, grabbing for his own and pulling it over his, probably concussed, skull.
They were on their side, the hull of the APC pretty clearly twisted from the impact. Strickland checked and found that the batteries were intact, but at least two of the drive motors were in pretty bad shape, and one was shorting against the frame.
"Damn. Ok people, we're walking. I'm popping the hatch, get ready," Strickland said as he crawled to the back. He paused at the rear ramp, glancing back to make sure that everyone was ready, then he hit the emergency release.
Compressed air hissed, forcing the hydraulics open, and Strickland looked out at the mess they were in.
He could only see rubble and smoke, which was better than some options he supposed. For the moment he figured that would have to do.
"Rifle!"
Strickland half turned, catching the weapon that was tossed to him. He cleared the breach, then loaded a round and nodded in thanks before turning back out.
"Break out the anti-armor kit," He ordered, climbing out and grabbing some cover in the hole they'd fallen into, looking out on the airfield.
The field was a mess, dust still settling, and through the ringing in his ears he could hear the rumble of tank treads against the ground. Strickland dropped down prone, keeping his body low as he could as he peered out on the scene before.
The tanks were holding the distance, which was smart. An amateur would have raced in, but it seemed that the commander wasn't a fool. Granted, it also gave his team a bit of breathing room to regroup, so it was a bit of a double edged sword. If they'd rushed in fast enough, they might have caught the team still trying to shake the effects of the crash off.
"Recoilless, boss," Farrell said, dropping in beside him with the big rifle retrieved from the overhead compartment in the APC.
"Get a bead on the closest tank," Strickland ordered, "Check fire until you have orders."
"You got it."
Strickland shifted his gaze another direction, eyes narrowing as he spotted the source of their current problems. A big ship was lowering to the field quite some distance away, a klick or so down range. He could see transports running out to it, apparently rushing to unload the ship.
"Locked, boss. Orders?"
Strickland hesitated, taking it all in, he was not happy to see the ship. That didn't sound like a good outcome for the SOL.
I really hope they didn't live up to the ship's nickname, He thought with a weary sigh.
"Check fire. They're giving us breathing room, let's not interrupt them while they're letting us get out feet back under us, alright?"
"Right you are, boss."
*****
Hiram held on to the edge of the officer's cupola as his tank rumbled to a stop, grabbing a magnifier set so he could get a look at the scene.
The ship, the Allah's Word by her markings, had done a hell of a job. Without having to shoot through buildings, they'd been able to take out a chunk of the tarmac and leave the APC with nowhere to run. Now they were in a wreck, and the men were pouring out.
He got his first look at them then, through the magnifiers.
They were all humanoid, roughly half were an Alliance species he recognized. Tough grey skinned bastards known to be merciless in battle. The others... he didn't recognize them. They wore full body armor, and weren't tall or thin enough to be the skinny blue aliens that tended to crew the ships that made regular visits.
Possibly the merchant species, He supposed. Those were closer in size, and he'd seen far less of them oddly enough, so he couldn't be certain if this group matched or not.
"Take us in, close the net," Hiram ordered gruffly.
"Yes Captain!"
The tanks rumbled back into motion, converging toward the wreck.
They'd only gone a few dozen meters when a flash came from the crater, and one of the lead tanks abruptly ground to a halt, smoke pouring from a small hole in its underside.
"What in Allah's name was that!?" Hiram demanded over the comm.
The commander of the tank in question was coughing as he answered.
"Some type of armor piercing munition! Took out our driver, scrapped the kit... we need to evacuate!"
"Get out of there!"
The cupola popped open, the Commander popped out quick and scrambled over the side of the tank, putting the heavy vehicle between himself and the wreck, as men appeared from underneath as well, having used the bottom escape hatch.
Hiram swore under his breath, "Open fire!"
His tank rocked back as the gun roared, others quickly following suit, the rest of the squad firing at the wreck.
*****
The troops hugged the ground as best the could as the tanks tore the rest of the APC to shreds.
The concussion and shrapnel would have been enough to kill them all, if they weren't armored... or inexplicably tough aliens. As it was, the entire group was covered in dust and soot and scraps of metal that used to be an APC.
"I do not believe they liked that, Major," Kris laughed from where he was laying.
"No shit," Strickland muttered under his breath, debating his next move.
Honestly, he didn't have many. They had tanks moving to surround them, and no support forthcoming as best they could tell.
Surrender wasn't a palatable option at the best of times, but right now it was even less. Never mind the issues with giving up to a fundamentalist government, which was not on his bucket list to start with, but it would be best if they left as little evidence as possible linking this whole fiasco back to Earth.
On the other hand, fighting to the last wouldn't exactly erase that, and would make things worse in the long run as well.
He looked right and left, taking in the men at his side, including the Lucians. He doubted that they would be interested in surrender anyway, of course.
"Ok," He said, "Farrel is going to pop any of those suckers that get close while we get ready," He said, patting the corporal on the shoulder. "Once we're prepped, we're going to pop smoke and chaff, then we'll make a run for the city. Once there, we'll try to fade in until we can get into contact with either the Sol or the next Alliance representative that arrives. Everyone got that?"
They all nodded, men and Lucians already starting to measure the distance to the fence and then the city beyond with their eyes... and implanted computers.
"Good plan, Major," A new person spoke up over their comms, startling the group as they recognized the Colonel's voice. "However, I have an alternate for you. Look south."
A rending crack split the air and each of them twisted in surprise as a plum of dust erupted from the hangar they'd just left. Metal twisted, the roof peeled back, and a rather battered looking hull of a ship emerged over the wrecked building. It hovered there for a moment, before turning and heading their way.
Strickland swore under his breath, slapping Farrel on the shoulder.
"Pop those bastards, Corporal."
"You got it, boss!"
The Corporal leveled the recoilless rifle once more, taking aim at the underbelly of another tank, "Clear blast!"
Magnetically accelerated chaff blew out the back of the weapon as the tungsten penetrator was blasted out the front. The chaff covered everyone for a good distance around in metallic shavings, as the tungsten round blew a hole through another tank. With smoke pouting from it, Farrel pivoted and fired again.
*****
Sorilla grimaced as the debris fell off the dorsal section of the ship while she was pivoting it to locate the wreck of the APC.
"I was right," She said way too cheerfully, "I knew it looked like a good bush plane design. Tough, rugged..."
"You're a crazy bitch," Adam told her in no uncertain terms from where he was lying on the deck. "This hulk isn't built to go through buildings! Even if you didn't blow the engine, somehow, there's no way to know if you haven't compromised the life support systems!"
"Sure there is," Sorilla countered, "We'll just fly it up to orbit and listen for any whistling."
She grinned widely when she heard him groan and his skull thunk into the metal deckplates.
Some people are too easy.
Though, now that she thought of it, that wasn't actually a bad way to test things. Perhaps not orbit, but certainly high atmosphere would do to get a basic idea if nothing else.
Something for later, however.
With the APC, or what was left of it, in sight she kept a partial look at the large Alliance ship that had settled into a near landing not far away. She didn't want to let them get a shot at her, so she was staying low, but knew that if it moved to gain altitude again she would be in a bad way.
"I don't suppose there's any weapons on this thing?" She asked over her shoulder, eyes scanning the controls in front of her but finding nothing in either English or Alliance standard that might be considered such.
"Screw you."
"I'll take that as a no," She said, easing them the few hundred meters over to where the APC's wreckage was still smoking.
Over the tactical network her implants and suit let her access, she warned the team to be ready.
"Prepare for dust off," She said, "We're not going to have long, so move your asses."
"Roger that," Strickland's voice responded instantly.
*****
Chapter 25
Allahu Akbar Colony Command
The Allahma swore as he looked over the wreckage visible through the varying cameras and satellite imagery available. The damage to the primary, really the only, space port the colony had to its name was great, enough to set back many of the colony's ambitions for a significant time while repairs were conducted.
While not exactly a disaster, it was not the outcome he wanted.
At least the Word dealt with the intruders, He thought grimly. If they'd escaped, Estanis knew that he would have demanded that heads roll. Was it really too much to ask, that we get a few martyrs for the cause of the holy colony? Instead, they wreck actual useful infrastructure.
"So irritating," He sighed, stepping away from the screens and taking a seat. "Inform me as soon as the cargo is offloaded from the Word."
"Yes, your holiness."
*****
Allah's Word
