"The only way you'll see combat, Sergeant, is if you get busted to private!"
Vuxten stared at the holotank, opening and closing his hands slowly. He was partially aware of the officers and senior NCO's in the TOC watching him out of the corners of their various ocular organs, including several eyestalks, but he ignored it.
On the holotank, Alpha Company, 4th Telkan Rifleman Battalion, was engaged in combat. There was a collage of suit sensor view windows up and while the feeds were muted Vuxten knew through long experience what he would hear if he turned on the volume.
"Go to rockets," Vuxten whispered, watching two Telkan Riflemen engage an AAWM with their rifles. Their grenade launchers were chuffing, the grenades erupting with the bluish-white snap of antimatter, but only ripping divots in the heavy armor. "Go to armor defeating rockets," he whispered again.
Their LT's lips moved and the two Riflemen suddenly knelt down and fired all four rockets from their shoulder launcher.
The Atrekna Autonomous War Machine exploded.
Vuxten's hands didn't unclench as his eyes looked over the windows. In one set a squad was pinned down by insectile Atrekna servitors, that were advancing and firing laser weapons.
"They're on your right. They're flanking you," Vuxten whispered. "Throw prisms and reposition."
In the tiny pictures prism-cloud grenades blossomed and the squad dashed through sprays of rainbow color to take cover behind the L-shaped remains of a wall.
Another set of windows showed a trio of Telkan Marines crouched down on an upper floor of a ruined skyraker, setting up a rapid fire missile launcher.
"You forgot the mass reclaimation hose," Vuxten said almost silently, clenching and unclenching his hands.
One of the troopers had already motioned and another had hooked up the camo'd hose with a thin blue stripe to the nanoforge.
Vuxten knew there was a few seconds lag on the visuals, but he couldn't help himself.
Another squad was kneeling down in a knee deep puddle of water, surrounded by steam, venting heat hard. Their greenies were out and checking their heavy assault armor.
"Check your 318, make sure coolant line four is clear," Vuxten said softly even as the heavy weapon gunner popped the cooling line free and shook it out at the pointed directions of an armored greenie.
A bladearm dropped onto his shoulder and Vuxten turned to look up at Colonel Brett T'Klakak. "Yes, sir?"
"Walk with me, son," the massive Warrior caste Treana'ad said softly, turning away and heading out of the TOC, his helmet automatically unfolding and covering his triangular head.
Vuxten grabbed his helmet, slapping it on. The positive pressure system made his ears pop and he saw 471's icon go from having 'zzzzz' next to it to blue.
--what-- 471 asked.
"Colonel wants to talk to me," Vuxten said.
--which one--
"CO of 7th Armor Regiment," Vuxten answered, stepping through the positive pressure airlock, letting the mist hiss down on him for a moment.
Outside the sky was burning, ash floating down from clouds that were low and glowed a sullen red.
A flight of a dozen aerospace fighters lifted off from the airfield a half-klick away and clawed for the sky with screaming turbines and howling grav-engines.
The Colonel stood at the edge of the berm, overlooking the cleared terrain that was already e-staked and marked for interlocking fields of fire from the emplaced crew served weaponry. His bladearms were behind his back, his helmet unfolded, and Vuxten could tell by the slightly hunched shoulders and the way the Colonel's head was tilted he was lighting a cigarette.
Vuxten tabbed up a piece of stimgum and moved next to the Colonel.
"How long have you been in this man's military?" the Colonel asked, puffing at his cigarette.
"Five years Galactic, seven years personal," Vuxten said. "Not counting six months... um..."
"Detached ecclesiastical duty," the Colonel said, snapping his lighter closed. "Being TDY to the Chaplain Corps?"
"Assaulting Heaven with the Devil to rescue God," Vuxten said. He closed his eyes, remembering the way the phasic shades of dead Terrans had swarmed him, clawing at him, while he fought with fist and chainsword. He shuddered.
The Colonel nodded slowly, staring out at the No Man's Land.
"I have been an officer in this man's military for seventy years," he said slowly. "I started in Ordnance Corps, an Ordnance Officer, did a stint with Explosive Ordnance Disposal, then transferred to artillery," the massive insect said slowly, his voice distant. "Saw action during Clownface for the first time. I was a Captain in charge of an artillery unit. The big twenty-inch guns, the kind you can rip a city apart in a few days."
Vuxten nodded.
"It was bad. Real bad. I still have nightmares about it," the big Warrior said. "It got down to bladearms and pistols, then rifle butts and the nearest rock. I broke both of my bladearms in close combat. At one point I stabbed a man to death with another Warrior's bladearm I'd pulled out of that very enemy's body."
Vuxten just stayed silent.
"But after it was done, my next assignment was a garrison duty, just polishing the guns and marching the cannon cockers around for four years," the Colonel said. "I came to resent my garrison posting, yearning to be back on that blasted battlefield where thousands of screaming beings died with their hands around each other's throats."
A ripple fire of hundreds of medium range ballistic missiles screamed overhead as the dozens of launchers flushed their pods.
After a moment the sound of vehicles and yelled commands returned.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
"I came to resent my own men, having to babysit a bunch of cannon cockers just polishing gun tubes," the Colonel said. "My next posting was as a security officer to a headquarter's company, meaning I was outside of combat."
A set of flight capable power armor roared by overhead, barely ten meters off the ground, keeping Nap of Earth as their turbines pushed their accel steadily. They spread out into a wedge formation and dropped their guns into ready mode as they roared by.
"I found myself wanting to micromanage everything the troops did, found myself criticizing the decisions of officers in the shit with the benefit of hindsight and after action knowledge," the Colonel said.
The big Warrior turned and looked down at Vuxten, puffing on his cigarette. "You get what I'm saying, son?"
Vuxten thought for a moment.
"To let them fight their own fights," Vuxten said.
The Colonel nodded. "You're a combat soldier. That's all you've seen outside schools and training. I looked it up, you've had no garrison postings that weren't training on new weapon systems or assisting in developing the Telkan Marine Corps," the big insect turned to look back over the No Man's Land.
"In this man's military, you need to learn that once you are high enough ranking you must trust your subordinates as your commander once trusted you," the Warrior said. "I was watching your stress metrics and they were steadily rising," the Warrior crushed out his cigarette on one scarred and marred bladearm. "Which some worry could trigger another episode."
Vuxten sighed. "No, sir. That mantle was lifted from my shoulders," he said.
"Hmm," the big insect said.
"Sir?" Vuxten said.
"Yes, Major?" the Colonel said softly, still staring at the No Man's Land.
"Why do you call it 'this man's military'?" Vuxten asked. "There are many females in the ranks."
The big Treana'ad chuckled. "I picked it up during Clownface, from my Battalion CO when I went into Armor. Lieutenant Colonel George Samantha Vinlandikstien. Outside of the military she was militantly female, during garrison she was often female, but once the troops landed on the ground, she reskinned as a male."
The Treana'ad held up one hand for silence then reached up and touched his datalink.
"Colonel T'Klakak here. Patch me through to 4th Artillery, Telkan Marines," he said. He glanced at Vuxten. "She never really explained it to me in a way I could understand, but I got in the habit that she instilled in me."
He looked back out.
"This is Colonel T'Klakak here. Give me a shake and bake at the entire grid one klick north of my position," the insect ordered. "Yes, I know there's no enemy presence on the sensors. Yes, upon my authority. Thank you."
The Colonel dug out his pack, held it out to Vuxten, who shook his head, then slowly lit another.
With a multitude of screams the big twelve inch shells started pounding the tree line. Thermobaric high explosive mixed with spooky particle white phosphorous. The yellowish red sooty-looking bubbles of the thermobaric sending up showers of white smoke trails that arced back into the woods.
The edge of the forest erupted with screaming insect infantry that ran forward on their two legs, some of them their armor burning as the Spooky WP clung to them, firing their laser rifles.
Vuxten went to grab his rifle but the Colonel put his hand on Vuxten's hand to keep him from pulling the weapon around his body.
"Just stand here, son," the Colonel ordered, looking up slightly and blowing smoke rings as he removed his hand from Vuxten's and folded his bladearms behind his back.
--ok look cool-- 471 suggested.
The heavy crew served weapons opened up and the infantry charge dissolved as the insects were smashed into chunks of pulp, sprays of ichor, and shards of biologically extruded armor. Rifleman ran to the berm, throwing themselves down against the packed dirt.
Vuxten saw one Telkan Marine was wearing only his helmet, his chest plate, and his gear harness, his balls swinging as he ran forward, waving his arm and bellowing at the troops following him.
The implant ID'd him as Staff Sergeant Bortak, Alpha Company of Vuxten's Battalion.
His troops, some wearing only the same gear as their Sergeant, hit the dirt against the berm around their NCO, all of them quickly bringing their weapons into play. The NCO was yelling out fire commands and his troops executed them with smooth, practiced motions.
A few lasers snapped by Vuxten and the big Treana'ad Colonel, who just stood there smoking his cigarette and staring at the charging mass of insects that were still pouring out of the forest, screaming high pitched shrill screams that Vuxten knew were supposed to frighten the Confederate forces.
"Look at these Detainee cursed poor bastards," the Colonel said, shaking his head. "They don't know anything but wave attacks, charging straight into our guns."
More and more Telkan were slamming down against the berm, bringing their weapons into play.
The artillery was still hammering the woodline, marching away from the initial impacts and the berm.
The Colonel touched his implant. "Give me a ghost-toastie on the previous coordinates. Thank you."
Plasma enhanced napalm hit the trees, the flames a faint blue and white, mostly transparent.
The trees heated up so quickly most exploded rather than burned.
The next wave of insects were on fire, screeching as they boiled inside their carapaces.
The Colonel touched his datalink again. "Colonel's compliments to your gun crews."
A tank rolled up, stopping behind the troops laying on the berm. The launchers opened up and the VLS (Vertical Launch System) pods flushed racks of 48 missiles, the grav drivers launching them straight into the air. The missiles howled out, leveled off, and slammed into the fading treeline.
Insects were torn apart and thrown into the sky.
Vuxten noted that the woods were just gone for nearly a half kilometer from the previous edge of the forest. Trees were being chopped down by firepower, were burning from the artillery hits, and exploding from the sudden heat transfer.
Lasers were still cracking through the air, even as more insects poured from the forest.
The Colonel touched his implant. "Give me a shake and bake in the woods around the entire FOB, if you would."
Vuxten clenched his fists, wishing he could grab his rifle and join his troops belly down on the berm.
The trees started exploding as heavy artillery rounds started pounding the forest only ninety seconds later.
"Boys are on the ball," the Colonel mused. He touched his datalink. "Get shredder drones up, mortar section. Thank you."
The drones laden canisters popped only a hundred meters off the deck and the warbois went live, screeching and slamming their bloody faces against the sensors. As soon as they saw one the insects they deployed their vibroblades and swooped down to rake the Atrekna servitor troops trying to cross No Man's Land around the FOB.
A laser struck the Colonel's shoulder armor, marring the forest camouflage paint scheme but doing little else.
The insect that had fired the shot ate a burst of mag-rifle shot and flew apart.
Tanks had rolled up to the berm, separated by roughly a hundred meters apart, with the Telkan Marines in between, having rolled out of the way so the tanks could use their main gun.
Vuxten saw the PAC clerk, a female Ikeekik, firing her weapon at the onrushing insectoids. Next to her was a rifleman on her right and a fuel jockey on her left, all them firing their weapons.
A laser tapped Vuxten's left thigh, but the remaining energy after traveling through the micro-prism mist fields didn't have enough energy to do anything to the inlaid and enameled armor over his thigh.
Finally the insectoids were no longer coming out of the burning forest. The artillery was hammering the forest further and further back. Something important exploded with the bright eye-watering flash of a phasic construct collapsing.
Shots were petering out as no targets could be found.
The Ikeekik raked some of the insect bodies just in case.
"CEASE FIRE!" the Colonel called out.
A few troopers pulled the trigger once or twice more. A few artillery rounds hit and Vuxten knew it was because it was easier to pull the lever than unload the gun. The tank's VLS cell covers closed.
The only sound was the forest fire.
"Look, Major," the Colonel said, pointing off to the side.
A tiny butterfly danced on the breeze, iridescent wings beating slowly as it surfed the air currents. It landed on the edge of the tank, slowly opening and closing its wings.
"How did you know, sir?" Vuxten asked, staring at the tiny butterfly.
"That they were massing in the woods?" the Colonel asked. He put out the butt of his cigarette against the scraped and scuffed side of his bladearm, rolled out the excess tobacco, and put the remaining paper and filter in his pocket.
"Yes, sir," Vuxten said.
"If I tell you, you won't figure it out for yourself, son," the Colonel said. He waved his arm. "Stand to, one hour, then return to duty," he called out as he turned around. He headed back toward the TOC, humming a Rigellian pop song to himself.
Vuxten just stood there, one foot on the berm, staring at the burning forest.