Eve Berg
Location: North American Eastern Seaboard, Smokey Mountains, United Commonwealth of Colonies
“They’re coming,” someone whined over the general net.
No less than three NCOs jumped all over the poor guy, calling him everything from a chicken to a limp-dick motherfucker. The bottom line was that the soldier needed to get ready to fight, not whine like a little bitch.
Eve couldn’t hold it against the PVT. She, and five other officers and NCOs, stood at one of the two entrances to the bunker’s main bay. A few hours ago, she’d been gearing up in this place in her MOUNT; ready to kick ass and take names. Now, her MOUNT was buried in the very rubble that stopped the enemy from getting in and killing them all.
There wasn’t a single person there who didn’t know someone, or a dozen someone’s, who’d died in the defense of the bunker over the last month. It didn’t matter if they lived or died, this mountain and the area around it would always be a graveyard of brave men and women who stood between people and aliens.
The gray stone was glowing an ugly red, and the ETS would break through soon. The Commonwealth infantry had a surprise waiting for them. The thought made her grin, even if it didn’t stop them, she knew they knew they’d been sucker punched.
“How’s it looking at Bravo,” she asked the other half-dozen HI troopers assigned to the second entrance.
A video feed popped up on her HUD and she saw the two walls of rock looked pretty much identical. The enemy was timing their assault to hit them on both flanks at once. It was smart, and what she expected from the ETs. But they’d expected that too and would hopefully turn it to their advantage. AI’s crunch the numbers and put a countdown on the defenders’ HUDs.
“Breach!” the announcement came simultaneously from both sides of the bay.
Molten rock sloshed down like magma, and white beamers slashed into the bay. Everyone was behind portable shields, cover, and another level of portable shields just to be safe. The initial enemy volley didn’t kill anyone, and it allowed the bunker commander to hit the big red button they’d hardwired to their surprise.
Overpowered shape charges had been lined and angled to hit the ETs when they breeched. Dozens of plasma-tipped explosive rods detonated and fired toward the enemy at supersonic speeds. It hit them hard, and in a confined space, was more deadly than it would be in the open.
She heard BAMFs go into a berserker rage as roaches in stealth mode got caught in the explosion. The smaller aliens were simply roasted alive as the small tunnel reached the temperature of the sun. The BAMFs did better, but shields failed under the god-like pressure, and a many found themselves walking pincushions for a few moments before they died.
Despite the destruction, it was a numbers game. They’d likely killed twenty BAMFS, and who knew how many roaches, but the enemy had more where that came from. That was what Eve was there for.
“Fire,” she yelled.
In a synchronized motion, the dozen HI troopers in the bay took a knee, angled their spine-mounted cannons at the openings, and fired. A dozen thermobaric warheads rushed to meet the remnants of the enemy’s assault force. Advanced shields or not, that was one hell of a punch, and despite being a hundred meters away, and bracing like her life depended on it; Eve and the troopers were thrown across the room like yesterday’s garbage.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
She barely heard the boom as the warheads brought hell down on the enemy. Next thing she knew, she was blinking stars out of her eyes as some grunts tapped on her helmet.
“You good, ma’am?” a SGT asked.
“What . . . yeah,” the LACS medical systems were already kicking in and bringing her fully back to consciousness. “We’re alive,” she laughed to herself.
The defensive plan had a twenty percent chance of bringing the mountain down into the bay and killing everyone there. It was deemed an acceptable loss if the enemy then had to dig their way through all of that rock. Thankfully, the bunker’s superstructure had held and channeled the blast into the enemy. The hundred meters of tunnel had been completely filled in, and the enemy was likely facing more dead and injured.
They hadn’t defeated the enemy, or even one, but they’d stalled the bastards.
“Ok, people,” she didn’t waste any time. “Let’s booby trap the shit out of this place and fall back to the secondary defensive line.”
They weren’t willing to duke it out with BAMFs in the bay’s more open space, so they’d blow it to hell, and make the enemy come to them . . . down the tunnels . . . in a neat single file where they could focus their fire. Lots of people would die, but it would buy them more time. That was the name of the game; hold until reinforcements arrived.
The grunts went about getting things rigged while the HI troopers shook themselves off and started to fall back. They needed to reload and set up the fall back positions. No one had any illusions they would be able to hold the secondary position as long as the bay.
***
Sonya Berg
Location: CWS Agincourt, Sol System, United Commonwealth of Colonies
In sick bay, Sonya didn’t fight the ship, but she still had her IOR admiral’s access, so she saw how the Battle of Sol concluded.
Ward was dead, she was sure of that despite the hibernation bag the medics had tucked him into. Gilmore was offline. His ship hadn’t been outright destroyed, but it had been hammered to a pulp. The enemy knew that was where things were being coordinated from, and they’d gone for the throat. Rumor had it the high Admiral was still alive, just out of contact. Until he could get transferred to another ship, someone else was in charge.
Sonya was just thankful it wasn’t her. Right now, it was her job to bite down on this plastic contraption.
“I’ll go on three, one . . . two . . .” the doctor gave a mighty yank, and the piece of the bridge that had found a comfy home in her leg was yanked out.
“Motherfucker!” she screamed into the plastic mouthguard.
Surgical assistants swooped in with medical nanites, a blood transfusion, and fresh skin to be sprayed into the opening. It was a barebones surgery, but Sonya couldn’t blame the medical team. Half the fucking ship was dead or injured, so there was no time for delicacy if they wanted to save as many people as they could.
“I’m going to give you a sedative to let everything settle,” the surgeon didn’t even wait for consent before jamming an injector in her thigh. “Relax. Hopefully, everything will be better when you wake up.” The man’s grim face wasn’t very reassuring.
The drug hit her fast, but she fought it for a moment. Long enough to scan the med bay. Cots and gurneys covered every possible cubic foot of space allowed. The doctors had a pathway to get to everyone else, but aside from that, they were packed like sardines. They’d even brought in bunkbeds three people high, and stacked patients to the ceiling. Most people were out cold, so there wasn’t a lot of screaming and moaning associated with the injured, but the smell of blood and antiseptic was overpowering.
She tried to push back the overwhelming stench as she accessed her IOR and surveyed the damage reports. Thirty five percent of the human fleet . . . over seven hundred ships – mostly battleships – were gone. Tens of billions of tons, and millions of people were finely dispersed matter. Another fifteen percent of the human fleet was combat ineffective. Like Gilmore’s flagship, they’d had the shit kicked out of them. Ten percent had minor-to-moderate damage, but were still functional. The remaining forty percent were relatively good, but only the ships at the very rear of the formation had avoided any contact with the enemy. Still, the combined might of humanity’s spaceborne power had been severely degraded. There was no way they could survive another assault.
The aliens had fought to the bitter end. They’d rather die than surrender, and they took their pound of flesh with them to whatever their afterlife was.
Earth had been on its own for a while, and there was no telling what was waiting for them. Aliens that wouldn’t surrender, billions murdered, people huddled under mountains waiting for help they were convinced would never come.