> We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
> For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
> Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
> This day shall gentle his condition;
> And gentlemen in England now a-bed
> Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
> And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
> That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
Henry V - Act IV, Scene iii
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“Incoming!”
The squad dove for cover as a flight of warheads impacted, detonating in a rippling explosion that shattered nearby structures and reduced several to rubble. The Dzan’ij loyalists under Nizam Myt were putting up stiff resistance, while the Valkyries and their allies, the so-called Dzan’ij “Government in Exile” led by Vezér Gret, had encircled the capital and now were tightening the noose.
“Bravo team, left flank!” Sergeant Kai shouted, while he and the rest of Alpha team lay down a base of fire against the defensive perimeter the loyalists had thrown up against them.
“Move!” Corporal Aukes screamed over the din of battle as she and the others bounded ahead, diving behind cover as an angry red energy beam swept their position, incinerating a rebel attached to her team. Its high-pitched wail was cut short as it collapsed into a pile of charred meat, while Rúna and her team returned fire.
Their efforts had little effect against the energy weapon itself, but they had bought enough time to bring up heavy weapons of their own. Tawfiq locked the legs of the machine gun in place and returned fire, sending deadly accurate bursts that chewed through the ruined wall they were using to ward off enemy fire. The ceramicrete pulverized under the hammering blows, blasting apart their position even as the defenders scrambled to fall back.
“The cowards flee!” Sersan Yept howled in triumph, as he and the other Dzan’ij insurgents raced forward, eager to deal the killing blow and claim the glory of the kill. They moved with surprising speed and a fluid grace that was almost eerie, like giant spiders on their six limbs as they scuttled ahead.
“Stop!” Rúna shrieked, but it was already too late. The other enemy positions opened up, cutting the Dzan’ij down in a wicked crossfire than only a handful survived, now cut off and pinned down at the edge of the thoroughfare the loyalists had made their killing ground.
PFC Yendrick just shook his head. “Idiots,” he muttered, while he took carefully aimed shots at the defenders.
“Cherries,” Aukes agreed, slapping in another magazine and keeping the pressure up on the defensive wall. Vezér Gret’s rebels had more enthusiasm than experience, but they’d needed the bodies for this final objective, and while it had taken a certain amount of arm-twisting to get him to commit, the Valkyries of the 2/2 were all on board. Every bullet or energy beam one of the Dzan’ij rebels soaked up was one less they had to worry about. It was cold-blooded, but the Terran mercenaries had long since made their peace with that brutal logic. It was the reason they’d survived for as long as they had.
But that still left them with the problem of their allies cut off and alone on the far side of No-man’s-land. It tempted Rúna to leave them to their fate, but she had a sneaking suspicion she already knew what orders they would soon pass down, and given that the Valkyries were officially deferring to Vezér Gret’s decisions in this last assault…
“... Dagger 1-1 Alpha, this is Dagger 6,” the captain’s voice crackled in her earpiece. “Hold your position, we’re bringing up the Centurions for support. Once they’re in position, you are to assault the perimeter wall and breach the enemy’s defences. Do you copy, over?”
Rúna winced as Kai acknowledged the order. Lord, I hate being right, she sighed in resignation. At least they’d have the APC’s and their guns backing them up, but no one in their right mind looked forward to a frontal assault. It was a great way to wind up dead, which was definitely not the career goal of a mercenary.
Agilmar clicked over to the informal squad freq. “You copy that?” he asked her.
“Yeah, I copy,” she grumbled. “Don’t suppose we could just flatten it from orbit?”
“KEW’s are expensive,” he reminded her. “Besides, Vezér Gret wants to set up shop in Nizam Myt’s HQ when it’s all over.”
“Optimistic of him,” she snorted, as she heard turbofans thrumming the air, skimming across the rooftops. “Here we go,” she told Yendrick, as the Centurions overflew their position and opened up with their missile batteries and energy weapons, hammering the enemy positions.
“Go go go!” Kai shouted over the radio, as the entire squad bolted out of their positions and raced forward, firing on the move as the APC’s kept up the pressure. The initial strike had caught the loyalists by surprise, forcing them back, but they recovered quickly and returned fire, knocking one of the Centurions out of the sky. It came down hard; pinwheeling into a cluster of abandoned warehouses and showering them with shrapnel and debris as they continued their charge.
“Fuck, I’m hit,” LCPL Sultan howled over the squad freq, as Rúna and Yendrick changed direction, heading for her location. There was no time to assess her injuries; instead, they each grabbed an arm and dragged her across the thoroughfare, throwing themselves into the dirt on the far side as the corporal dug out her medkit.
“Where?” Rúna asked her, while Yendrick covered them both.
“My leg,” she scowled, clutching her thigh. “Think it’s broke.”
A brief glance confirmed her suspicion. It looked like a thick splinter from the Centurion was the culprit, and it was dug in deep. “I don’t dare pull it out,” she told the lance corporal, “it’ll have to wait for the field station. You gonna be okay?” she asked her, as she pressed a QuickSet bandage against her thigh to handle the blood loss.
“I’ll live,” Becca replied through gritted teeth, as Rúna took out a Hypospray and dosed her with a powerful analgesic.
“That should hold you til we can call for a dustoff,” she explained. “You’ve got good cover here. Stay put till we can get you out.”
“I ain’t going nowhere,” she cheerfully agreed, taking up her weapon and covering her sector. “Go... I got this.”
Rúna nodded, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before she and Yendrick were up and moving, racing for the wall while the rest of the company kept the pressure on. Landing at the wall, they checked the Dzan’ij rebels that had bolted prematurely. Both were dead. Once confirmed, the pair crouched beneath the heavy stone barrier as she shouted, “Grenade!”, yanking a frag free from her harness and arming it before tossing it over the side. They hit the ground and covered their heads as they exploded, pelting them both with dirt and gravel.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Dagger 1-1 Beta, what’s your status, over?” Kai asked her over the radio.
“Becca’s hit, but she’s stable,” she answered, “and the Dzan’ij are KIA. What’s your situation, over?”
“We’re good,” he confirmed. “We got new orders. Enemy perimeter is collapsing, so they want us to hold fast, over.”
She grinned despite herself. “Standing by,” she confirmed. Any plan involving her doing nothing got her vote.
A flight of Havoc strike craft screamed overhead. They only had a few left that were still operational, risking them only when the anti-air had been suppressed. They fired a brace of missiles and peeled off, racing away from the battlefield, while the rockets themselves zeroed in on the dug-in loyalist positions nearest the HQ. Massive geysers of dirt and stonework erupted into the air, the heavy Ka-WHAP of their detonations slamming into them a second later, blasting out the remaining windows and scattering debris in every direction.
She and Yendrick shared a look. “Good plan,” he commented, as they waited for the enemy’s next move.
They didn’t have to wait long. “All Dagger units, this is Dagger 6,” Captain Inaba informed the company. “We just got word from Nizam Myt’s people in the HQ. They’re standing down.”
“Thank God,” Rúna sighed in relief. Last thing in the world she wanted to do was go in and dig them out. That kind of house-to house fighting got expensive in a hurry.
“... you are to maintain your defensive posture,” she continued, “while the Dzan’ij forces under Vezér Gret conduct a passage of lines through your positions. They will then accept the loyalist’s official surrender.” There was a pause for a moment, before she said in a more informal-sounding voice, “Apparently it’s a cultural thing.”
“Fine by me,” Yendrick snorted. The spit and polish that was the bedrock of most militaries made little sense for a mercenary unit, and while taking prisoners was part of their regular duties, the ritualized parade ground variety it sounded like the Dzan’ij were planning wasn’t their style.
“We will fall in behind our allies to provide rear and perimeter security,” she explained. “Under no circumstances are you to interfere with the surrender proceedings themselves. It’s their show, let them handle it. Do you copy, over?”
One by one the platoon and squad leaders acknowledged the receipt of her orders, even as she spotted the first of the Dzan’ij vehicles moving forward, flying their green victory flags. Some elite unit, she thought in disgust as they passed by, since they didn’t seem to have a speck of dirt on them. And just where were you when we were fighting for our lives? she thought bitterly, though she clamped down on the sentiment as quickly as it appeared. That sort of thing wasn’t healthy and considering just how often it happened she shouldn’t have expected any different.
If they’d been any good at fighting themselves, they wouldn’t have called for the Valkyries to do the dirty work for them.
Besides, it was the transports coming in behind them that had her full attention; the MedEvac wagons coming forward to pick up the wounded. She rapped Yendrick on the helmet and thumbed back at Becca, as the two of them stood up and jogged back to their wounded teammate.
“Thought maybe you’d forgotten about me,” she grumbled as the PFC flagged down an ambulance.
“Well, what do you expect, malingering when there’s work to be done?” she joked. Her quip earned her a brief chuckle from the wounded lance corporal, which is what she’d been shooting for. Anything to take her mind off it, though it didn’t last long. They’d both danced this dance too many times before.
“I hear they scrounged up some Knights to handle Triage,” Becca said after a moment, as Yendrick led a pair of medics with a stretcher over to their position.
“Heard that too,” Rúna agreed. “They’re the best. They’ll take good care of you.” She stepped aside as the medics quickly checked her wounds and vitals, before loading her onto the stretcher.
“I expect to see you back in the squad in a couple days,” she told her, grasping her hand and giving it a quick squeeze. Becca smiled briefly, lingering over the shared moment, before the medics took her away and carried her back to the meat wagon. She sighed as the ambulance took off before scanning the perimeter, spotting Sergeant Kai waving them both over to join him. The pair took off at a jog, arriving at his location less than a minute later.
“Sitrep,” he asked her.
“Becca will be just fine,” Rúna explained. “Shrapnel and a broken femur, but the artery wasn’t nicked. We’ll get her back soonest.”
“Good,” he nodded. The squad was family and losing someone was something no one wanted to face. Today, they’d been spared that.
Tomorrow? Who could say?
By this time Tawfiq and Rivka had secured the machine gun and joined them; the big guy slinging the weapon over his shoulder while his more diminutive assistant was draped with a couple belts of ammo. “Perfect timing,” he told them, “we’ve got to catch up and pull rear security.”
“Hey Sarge, where’s our transport?” Rivka demanded.
Kai gave her a pitying look. “Seriously? You should know better.” The entire squad groaned at the news, even though all had expected it. The Valkyries didn’t waste transportation on the likes of them. “Double time, boys and girls,” he ordered, as he started jogging for the HQ, with the others falling in behind him.
He kept an even pace, not wanting to tire them out any more than necessary. Combat was the most exhausting physical exertion known to man, leaving one utterly drained in a matter of minutes. Besides, they were in no real rush, as other squads would come in from further out. As long as they weren’t last, that was good enough for him.
Drawing nearer they could see other units, though a handful of vehicles had been diverted to haul the brass. The loyalists and the rebels were forming up in opposing squares while the humans fanned out around them, giving them a wide berth as they covered the flanks. The Dzan’ij focused on dressing their ranks, making sure their lines were straight, while the mercenaries had a somewhat more relaxed posture. They were keeping an eye out, all right, but with no active threats in sight they mostly looked bored. They’d also arranged for bleachers off to one side, where they’d parked the highest-ranking members of the victorious forces, and a handful of human officers.
It was when she spotted the contingent of Chell representatives that Rúna felt her blood boil.
Although they were allied with the Government-in-exile, they weren’t the ones paying the bills... no surprise, given that they were broke. However, the Chell had graciously stepped in, representing the benevolent Tu’udh’hizh’ak Empire... sarcasm mode most definitely on... offering to foot the bill. No one believed for a second they were doing this out of the kindest of their hearts. They’d install Vezér Gret as their puppet leader and rule the planet through him.
Until he became an inconvenience, of course.
Unlike most of her fellow Valkyries, she knew the Empire’s true nature. She’d discovered it the hard way during her mission to Earth, when she’d been forced to draw down on a friend of hers who’d been turned into a sleeper agent by their mind games. They’d cured her, but the entire experience left a sour taste in her mouth. Glancing out of the corner of her eye she could see Kai tensing up as he stared in their direction. They’d both known they were getting paid with the Empire’s coin, of course, but being reminded of it did little for their peace of mind.
“Looks like they’re about ready to start,” Tawfiq commented, as they watched a single representative from each side step forward. They were too far away to hear what was being said, but they could fill in the blanks for themselves. There was some back and forth for a few minutes, and then both delegates made an about face and returned to their respective formations.
“Guess they’re winding it up,” Kai pointed out.
“That was fast,” Rúna said in surprise... as the rebels unlimbered their weapons and opened fire.
“Holy fuck,” Rivka said in shock, the disarmed loyalists falling like cordwood, cut down in a hail of gunfire.
“Those bastards,” Yendrick snarled as Rúna’s own weapon came up to her shoulder, her body tensing as she drew a bead on the rebels slaughtering their prisoners.
... only to have Sergeant Kai grab her by the arm, pulling her from the target. She looked up at him in dismay, but his grim visage said everything.
“It’s not our show,” he reminded her, his tone as final as the grave.
She wanted to plead with him, to beg him to let her do something, anything, but she realized there was nothing she could do to stop the carnage. Her fellow Valkyries on the perimeter were reacting with the same anger and disgust as she was, and with a howl of fury she tore off her helmet and threw it to the ground, before stomping away.
Behind her, the killing went on, and on, and on...