Admiral Michael Ward
Location: Harper’s Junction, Star Kingdom of Windsor
“Hull breach on decks three, seven, and twelve,” information flew across the bridge. Ward brought up a 3D image of Aggie and rotated it on an axis to get a better view of the enemy insertion points.
Whoever was planning things from the Windsor’s knew what they were doing. The two ships that had stabbed into the assault carrier on deck three weren’t that far from the flight deck. If they could get troops there, they could trash Spyders and drone fighters with impunity, which would make getting the marine brigade on the ground next to impossible.
Only one ship hit on deck seven, which was uncomfortably close to his command bridge, while the other two hit further aft near engineering and grunt country. Ward wasn’t an infantry tactician, but even he knew what the Windsor’s were trying to pull off. Eliminate the threat to their planet, cut off the head of the snake, or make it so the ship couldn’t fly. A success in any of them would greatly reduce Aggie’s effectiveness to complete their mission.
“Commander…” he opened a channel to his infantry counterpart.
“A bit busy here!” the woman snapped back with the sound of gunfire in the background.
Ward toggled to the ship’s security feeds and watched. His marines weren’t caught completely unaware, but they were far from ready. During shipboard actions, marines mainly acted as damage control parties and search and rescue. There were security teams deployed to critical areas for just this type of thing, but that was more protocol than necessary. Having to repel boards was extremely rare, and Ward hadn’t even considered it during this engagement, but the enemy rarely does what you want them to do.
Windsor marines in rust-colored armor were pouring into his ship. The cameras started to go fuzzy and die as their EW systems kicked in and disrupted the local network. Or the enemy marines just shot the cameras. Either way, he was starting to lose eyes on his enemy. He watched as two squad-sized elements of Commonwealth marines caught up to a dozen Windsor’s in a narrow corridor.
It was a miracle the camera wasn’t hit as rounds started to fly. The Commonwealth rounds met resistance. The Windsor’s did not.
“Commander, the enemy has portable shield generators with them,” he caught sight of a Windsor near the rear of their formation carrying a small pack.
“No shit!” the marine leader snapped. “Fall back, fall back and secure the bridge!” Ward wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear the last part, but it was the last thing any Admiral wanted to deal with.
His mind shifted through tactical possibilities. There was a list of things a ship’s commander could do to help rebel boarders, but that responsibility was primarily on his marines. Unfortunately under the current circumstances, the enemy had better tech.
“I’ve got people heading for our armory to get the new alien gadgets,” the marine commander sent to him, but he knew it would be little use at the moment. The armory was a long way from the bridge, and the marines would have to get through a fifty Windsor’s that were going to try and stop them.
Ward’s eyes scanned the bridge of frightened spacers. If something was going to end them, it was more likely a bomb-pumped laser that would kill them all before they knew it. Having to surrender the ship to a bunch of invading marines hadn’t even crossed their minds. As he scanned, his eyes caught a station blinking red at the damaged section of the ship and their environmental status.
A light bulb went off in his head. He checked it over with the marine commander, and while she didn’t think it would work completely, she thought it was worth a try. She relayed the message to her marines, and he relayed it to his crew. He sent it to PADs, stations, and anything else his people would have access to without alerting the enemy.
“Ready when you are, sir,” the lowly lieutenant in charge of environmental controls was now the lynchpin in completing this plan.
Helmets were snapped on around the bridge, and people were strapping into their chairs. Marines all over the ship were magnetizing their boots to the deck so they didn’t go flying off when the venting occurred. The key was getting it done quickly. The Windsor’s undoubtedly had their own magnetized boots, so the gravity and explosive decompression needed to happen nearly simultaneously for this to have any shot of working.
“Execute in three…two…one…” He felt the slight pull of weightlessness against him a heartbeat before the ship groaned like a prizefighter had just punched it in the gut.
Just like the marine commander thought, it sort of worked. Cameras showed Windsor marines yanked off their feet and hurtled through the ship. Many smashed into bulkheads as the void tried to yank them out of Aggie. In total, there were less than a hundred and fifty enemy marines on the assault carrier. Maybe twenty were actually yanked from the carrier and tossed into the void. The main damage was done to those tossed around like pinballs. The violent impacts broke bones, snapped spines, and damaged equipment. In fact, several shield generators were destroyed in the purge, and that made all the difference. That and the sweat and blood of the Aggie’s marines.
***
CPL Nickelbaucher
Location: Harper’s Junction, Star Kingdom of Windsor
The Spyder weaved back and forth as it dodged fire from the city. All Mitch could do was sit back and watch as the bird fought against the planet’s gravity.
“We’ve got a rabbit!” The SGT’s yell broke Mitch out of his headspace and snapped his focus back to his sector of fire. He put his rifle to his shoulder and used his scope to zoom in.
A small convoy of vehicles being led by a large truck were making a break between two of the cordon positions. They were still a few kilometers out, but he could make out the Windsor unit markings.
“Clear a path,” the voice of the tank commander came over TACCOM.
Mitch understood. It was a perfect opportunity to test the tank’s big 125mm cannon, which the tankers had affectionately called the bitchslapper. It was a shot across open, flat terrain at a moving target. This was the type of shot the tank was made for, but Mitch still hesitated to move. His gut was telling him something was off.
He kept his eye pressed to his scope and watched the convoy. His HUD was able to calculate their speed, but even from a distance, he could tell they weren’t moving much more than sixty kilometers an hour. If he was running for his life, he’d be hauling ass, not rumbling along at what passed for a city speed limit.
“That big hauler is slowing them down,” he said to no one in particular. “Intel didn’t have that many Windsor’s in town. You could fit a whole company in that thing. If it’s packed, along with all the other vehicles, we’re looking at a full two companies of hostiles.” He shook his head, but never took his eyes off the scope.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The force continued forward, ripped through open terrain and smashed into a rock outcropping over a kilometer away. The hard stone, that could deflect bullets and provide cover from artillery, was pulverized and turned into shrapnel by the blast. TACCOM started to light up as unit commanders demanded sitreps about what the hell just happened. Mitch didn’t have access to STRATNET’s biodata, but he knew soldiers had been taking cover in that rock formation. There was no way they could have survived that hit, but more importantly, there was now a gaping hole in their perimeter.
The tank’s gun swung toward the hauler as calls for fire rang out from other units in the area. Through all the chaos, Mitch kept his eye on the hauler. The back blast had slammed the truck to a halt, and whatever damage had been done clearly broke something important. It didn’t look like it was going to move again.
Mitch felt his asshole immediately clench at the sight of the Windsor mech. Horrible memories of explosions, fire, and death flash through his mind before he could get a grip.
“Wait,” he sent to the tank commander.
“What the hell are you…” now it was Mitch’s turn to interrupt.
“We’re going to have indirect fire raining down on that whole convoy in a few seconds. Wait for the mech to get distracted before taking the shot. Believe me, you do not want that thing getting up and coming over here. We’re all fucked if it does.”
“I’ll turn that big statue into scrap metal,” the tanker replied confidently, “but its good strategy to hit the enemy when they least expect it, and where it hurts the most.”
Mitch knew that was all the reassurance he was going to get. “Team, make sure grenades are ready, because our little 1mm rounds aren’t even going to tickle that thing,” he sent to his fire team as he started pulling grenades from his armor and placing them on the ground within reach.
“Incoming,” the SGT sent just as Mitch was placing his last frag in the side of his foxhole.
He barely heard the whistle of incoming arty, but the mech’s sensors clearly did. The big machine swung around and its swatter armament went to work picking off the incoming shells.
“Hit,” the tank commander stated proudly as the graviton round smashed into the enemy formation.
It must have been a hit because several of the follow-up arty rounds smashed into the Windsor convoy, engulfing it in fire and death. Despite the hit, Mitch couldn’t breathe a sigh of relief while dust and debris obscured the area. He kept his eye to his scope and watched for concrete confirmation the threat had been eliminated.
“Next time, Corporal, make sure you…” the tank commander’s words cut off as the sun hit the glint of metal among the dust.
The mech had pulled itself to its feet and was angled toward their position. If faceless machines had emotions, this one radiated anger.
“Aw shit,” Mitch managed to get out before the mech charged.
***
Mark “Coop” Cooper
Location: Harper’s Junction, Star Kingdom of Windsor
“We’ve got to almost be…” Eve led the way around a corner, just as another group appeared about twenty meters away.
“Wait up, we need to…” Coop rushed after her, and thank god he took a few extra steps. That put him in the positon of being slightly ahead of her. By the time he realized what the other group was, they’d already leveled their weapons at them.
Instinctually, he threw himself in front of Eve as they opened fire. Rounds cut through the air all around them, but most smacked into his shield.
“For fuck’s sake, Eve. Next time wait!” he yelled as his shield started to dip from the pounding. Whoever these guys were, they were holding down the trigger.
“Contact!” Coop finally sent out over TACCOM, like Sullivan and the GYSGT didn’t know that already. “Moving back to cover!” he inched backward slowly to ensure he kept his bulk and shield between the rounds and Eve.
Sullivan had stepped out into the hallway and was taking the group under fire, while the GYSGT took pot shots with the wall as cover.
“They’ve got shields!” Both yelled as their rounds were stopped dead by sizzling, blue energy.
Coop thought quick and ejected a smoke shell from his back. He tossed it half the distance between the two groups before its program kicked in and it detonated with a bang. The explosion was small compared to any of the other shells the V4 carried, but in an enclosed space it sounded like he’d set off a nuke.
{What the fuck, Cooper!} The GYSGT screamed at him over the IOR. He’d probably blown out her eardrums, but that didn’t stop her. {Berg, you and numb nuts fix them in position. Sullivan and I will move around their flank and we’ll hit them from both sides and capture whatever HVT they’re protecting.} She didn’t wait for an acknowledgement before sprinting across the opening.
With Eve safely behind cover, Coop brought his Buss to bear and sprayed 3mm plasma-tipped rounds at the enemy. They cut through the smoke to give a little bit of visibility before it refilled the void.
{I can’t see what the fuck I’m shooting at,} she complained after a minute of shooting blindly into the fog.
{Sure. Saving your life is a mere inconvenience compared to seeing what you’re shooting at.} Coop snapped back.
She ignored him as they kept up their fire to fix the enemy in position. Finally, they heard more firing coming for a different direction. Cunningham and Sullivan had finally gotten into position and were forcing the enemy into a literal corner. So, of course that was when the palace air scrubbers kicked in and sucked up all the smoke between them and the people shooting at them.
There were only a handful. All had thrown themselves between the incoming fire and a woman crouched behind them.
{That’s her,} Eve’s words lost all emotion as she saw the scene before her. {She’s the one.}
{One what?} Coop concentrated his fire and tried to drill a hole through their shields. It didn’t work. {The one we’re trying to kill, because that’s pretty fucking obvious.}
{No!} She reached up and smacked him on the metal shoulder, which made her wince. {That’s the bitch in charge of all this. She’s the one who tortured us!}
{In my experience, the big dogs don’t get their hands dirty.} Coop kept up his firing, but it was going nowhere.
{I’m telling you. She was dressed as a sergeant when she was interrogating me. Whenever she came into the room with the guy who was actually fileting me, he deferred to her. He tried to act like he didn’t, but he did. I’ve been around my mother enough to know when someone is trying to pretend.}
He wasn’t sure what she meant, but he knew her mom was some super spook, so that would have to do.
{I get it, she’s an HVT, but that doesn’t change our circumstances. They’ve still got a shield between them and us. What’s your plan smarty pants?}
Eve only paused for a second. {Throw me.}
{Did they drill into your fucking head or something?} Coop switched barrels on his Buss and tried firing an energy blast into the shield. It didn’t do much more than his bullets had.
{No, you asshole. You shoot your load of grenades at that thing, cover their line of sight in explosions, and then chuck my ass through the shield. No one in there had full armor so they need the shield to be porous to breathe for more than a few minutes.} She reached across Coop’s armor and removed a pair of knives he liked to keep on him. They wouldn’t do shit fighting against a mech, but the nano-blades would make short work of ordinary soldiers.
{Toss me in there and I’ll cut her fucking tits off.} Something glinted in her eyes that made Coop more scared than he usually was of her.
{No way,} Coop shook his head.
{Coop!} She screamed in his head so loud it made him wince. {Do not take this from me!} He looked back at her as saw tears in her eyes. {I will marry you, have your children, and have a three-way with the Gunney if you stop being a stubborn ass and throw me into that shield so I can kill that bitch!}
He knew she wasn’t serious, but that fact that she’d even suggested it showed how serious she was. They’d only rescued her and the other SRRT members ten minutes ago, and since then, she’d been a trooper, so he didn’t stop to think about the real damage her capture had caused.
The Windsor’s had messed her up. They’d tortured her, and god only knew what else. Eve Berg was a warrior who’d been violated. Maybe not sexually, but she’d been physically and emotionally tormented by her captors. She needed this for her sanity even if it meant she didn’t make it out. More importantly, he knew she’d never forgive him if he didn’t do this for her. It would always be a betrayal in her eyes.
Oddly, Coop had an inkling of where she was coming from. If someone did that to him, he’d stop at nothing until he had that person’s balls in his gauntlets. He sure as shit would enlist Eve’s help to do it, and he’d expect her to have his back.
{Fine,} he quickly relayed the plan to the GYSGT and Sullivan before blocking out their comms so he didn’t have to hear their orders for him to stop. {Just…don’t die.} It was all he could think to say to Eve, and it would have to do.
He switched to his grenade barrel and set it to rapid fire. His weapon thumped repeatedly as the rounds flew toward the enemy. They smashed into the shield and detonated with a flash of fire that engulfed the dome of energy. When his last grenade left the barrel he slung the weapon onto his back, maglocked it with a thought from his IOR, and grabbed Eve. She grunted in discomfort, because to make the twenty meter throw without snapping a wrist or ankle, he had to grab her by the crotch and armpit.
He did a rotation like a discus thrower and tossed her with all his significant might.
{Please don’t fucking die.} He uttered a short prayer as he bent to pick up his weapon and see what happened.