“Uh…well…no. I’ve never met her.”
“Well then shut yer gob, Pence, and get a move on! Colonel Sil—well, shit, look, there she is, and you’re all just dicking around still. Get a move on and load this fucking ship!”
Spittle flew from Barne’s mouth, spraying across Pence’s face. To her credit, the woman did look terrified of the sergeant, and ran to grab the next crate.
Barne turned toward Silva, his face nearly split in half with an ear-to-ear grin.
<Stars, I love this job,> he said with a laugh. <I mean…I’m getting paid to kill Niets and yell at people. This must be what heaven is. Think we died in some recent engagement, and I’m in heaven?>
Silva couldn’t help but smile in response to the Sergeant Major. <Maybe we are. Gotta say, the looks on the faces of that last group of Niets in that cruiser we hit was pretty priceless. They just about shit themselves when you came barreling around the corner.>
<I have it on good authority that there was no ‘just about’ about it.>
<Gah…then maybe you should tone it down a notch.>
<Why?> Barne asked. <I have FNMs like this lot to square away, I need to keep my shit-scaring game on point.>
Silva shook her head, looking over the platform. <How much longer ‘til we’re ready to roll?>
<Shouldn’t be more than five minutes. The rest of this stuff is for a Theban cruiser that’s waiting outside the I2.>
<I tell you,> Silva said, looking out beyond the edge of the platform and across the A1 Dock, where hundreds of other ships rested on platforms, cargo drones flitting between them. <These ISF people really know how to run an op. On its best day, the GAF wasn’t half this well-oiled.>
<Half?> Barne asked. <Try a tenth. Granted, they didn’t have AIs with brains the size of a destroyer keeping things running. Have you heard about the AIs on ships like this one?> The Sergeant Major looked around as though a lightning bolt might strike him at any moment.
<Are you referring to Bob?> Silva asked. <Because I talked with one of his avatars yesterday, and even that felt like my mind was being prised open with an electron blade.>
<Weird shit, that’s for sure,> Barne replied with a nod. <AIs with human sock puppets, an ascended half-AI leader…sure glad these folks are on our side.>
<Not to mention willing to just give us as many ships as we can crew.>
Barne snorted. <Well, I mean…they’re Nietzschean ships. If I had other options, I’d pawn these shit-boxes off on someone else, too.>
<Pretty sure you’d better not call the Fury Lance a shitbox. That thing is Rika’s pride and joy.>
Barne’s grin took on a cunning slant. <No, pretty sure Chase’s new mech-body is Rika’s pride and joy.>
Silva groaned and shook her head. <Can always count on you to make things that much more crass, Barne.>
<Another perk of the job, my dear Colonel, another perk of the job.>
* * * * *
Twenty minutes later, the Terminus was boosting away from the I2, on its way to join with the rest of the 7th Fleet’s 2nd Division.
Silva watched the ships that made up the R2D, as the mechs had begun to call it, with pride. Though the 1st Division would always have a place of pride in the hearts of Rika’s Mechs—which was well earned, since they’d seized the ships while they were beneath the cloud tops of a gas giant—it was only five ships.
The 2nd Division boasted fifty-nine ships, all but two being Nietzschean vessels. Three of those were dreadnaughts the size of the Fury Lance. In all honesty, it was a tiny smattering of ships when compared to the vast fleets that the ISF—and the Nietzscheans, for that matter—were able to produce, but the ships belonged to Rika’s Marauders, and of that they were all immensely proud.
While many of the mechs hadn’t met Rika in person, they all knew she was the reason none of them were slaves to Stavros’s Politica anymore. Each and every one of them knew the story of what Rika had done to save them—Silva made sure of that—and they were ready to follow their chosen commander into battle.
The ships of the 2nd Division were arrayed in a diamond formation, the dreadnaughts on the central axis, one at the forward end, one aft, practicing various close-formation maneuvers. Silva was no fleet tactician, but she understood that the dance the ships were involved in was more to practice coordination and precise maneuvering than something they would do in combat.
That many ships that close in actual battle would simply be an invitation for heavy beamfire and relativistic missiles.
“Looks good, doesn’t it,” Barne commented as he approached the forward holodisplay on the bridge. “Rika’s gonna split her knickers when she sees this.”
“Split her knickers? What does that even mean?”
“Uh…I guess it makes more sense for men.”
“Barne! You’re on the bridge, you should set an example.”
The sergeant snorted. “Trust me, I set the right kind of example. I’ve been at this a long time. Besides, I may be near the top of the heap, but I’m not an officer like you. I don’t have to be all spit and polish all the time.”
“I suppose,” Silva allowed. “You’re right, though. Rika is going to be more than a little happy to see all these ships.” She paused and glanced over her shoulder before continuing privately. <How do you feel about the ship captains that Marauder HQ sent us?>
<Don’t worry,> Barne replied. <Billy here’s good people. So are the rest. Chair warmers like that Alice may be plants, but General Julia and Marauder HQ want us to win out there. She sent us space jockeys that know their shit.>
Silva watched the ships in the 2nd Division shift vectors and spread out into a flying X formation, the arms becoming convex, and ships moving along them until the X was four separate lines, reforming into the diamond afterward.
<They do look good,> she admitted. <The ships.>
Barne laughed. <I knew what you meant. We’re gonna bring the fight to the Niets, and they’re gonna regret the day they ever said ‘boo’ to Genevia.>
ATTACK FORMATION
STELLAR DATE: 10.12.8949 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Battalion HQ, Memphis, Kansas
REGION: Blue Ridge System, Old Genevia, Nietzschean Empire
<Chase!> Rika called out from the command bunker—which was a fancy name for the basement of a deli on the west side of a city named Memphis on the planet Kansas.
When Chase replied, his tone was terse, and Rika could hear a simmering rage. <What, Rika?>
<What are you doing at that position, is what! There’s nothing over there.>
Chase didn’t reply for a moment, then the command net updated to show his company’s first platoon—which he was accompanying—engaged with a Nietzschean armored column that also shouldn’t have been there.
<Shit, where did they come from?> Rika asked.
<Asshole factory, I imagine. This is where you sent us, though,> Chase replied. <Would be nice if you could send some backup. Crunch took a rocket to the leg, and he’s bitching like mad.>
<I didn’t…hold a mike.> Rika checked the order log and saw that Lieutenant Colonel Alice had altered the orders Rika had given Chase, sending his platoon on a new route to their objective.
She turned to where Alice stood in the corner of the basement, hunched over another holotable. “Colonel Alice, why did you send Chase down 42nd Street?”
Alice glanced up, no concern evident on her face. “It was a faster route, and the intel showed no enemy activity.”
Rika drew in a deep breath. “That’s because we had a transmission hiccup. If you’d actually looked at the scan data, you’d’ve seen that it found nothing there. The only thing we have from 37th to 51st street is the city database’s standard maps for that area.”
Alice finally found the grace to look embarrassed for her mistake. “Shit…it wasn’t flagged, Colonel Rika.”
<Stars!> Rika said privately to Niki. <I shouldn’t have to fucking babysit my XO.>
<I’ll watch her,> Nik
i replied, also sounding rather upset. <Let you know if she does anything stupid.>
<Stupider, you mean,> Rika replied to Niki before switching back to Chase. <It’s SNAFU here, Chase, sorry about that. What do you need?>
Chase’s reply took several seconds. <Sorry, was putting holes in a Nietzschean transport. Honestly, I could use a B’muth or two right about now; this place is crawling with Niets. Oh, and I think I need Alice to go fuck herself.>
Rika was having similar thoughts regarding Alice. It was becoming clear that the reason the woman had survived the Genevian war with Nietzschea was an overabundance of caution, and just enough intelligence to avoid any truly dangerous missions.
It wasn’t quite enough to rate the woman as cowardly, but by Rika’s estimation, she was right on the cusp.
Considering that my orders and most of my supplies are coming from Tanis and the Allies right now, I really wonder if I could just send Alice packing, and tell Marauder HQ to pound sand if they complain, Rika thought as she pulled up options, looking for the best way to reinforce Chase.
<OK, Chase, Ferris is coming around the planet in the next thirty minutes. He has two B’muths. You send coordinates, and he’ll drop them. They’ll be unmanned, though, so you’ll need to get crews in them yourself.>
<We’ll set beacons,> Chase replied, his tone still terse. <Tell him not to miss the drop, or we’re gonna get creamed.>
<He won’t,> Rika promised.
<I’ve got Ferris Linked up through the satcomm network,> Niki offered.
<Captain Ferris,> Rika said without pausing, though she thanked Niki with a mental smile. <I need two B’muths dropped in Memphis. M company is going to set beacons on the standard freq as well.>
<Ferris the ferryman at your service! You call, we make ‘em fall,> Ferris sent back.
<Is that an affirmation, or just your standard jingle when anyone hits you up on comms?> Rika asked.
<Uh…can it be both, Cap—er, Colonel?>
Rika rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop a smile from forming on her lips. One thing she could always count on was Ferris messing up ranks.
<Why not, it’s your lucky day,> she replied. <Watch your approaches. We haven’t taken out all of the Nietzschean anti-air, yet.>
<Colonel Rika! You cut me to the quick. Besides, the Undaunted has stasis shields. Niets can piss at me all day to no effect.>
<I wasn’t aware that you had any ‘quick’ left, after all the cuts you’ve suffered,> she shot back, unable to help herself.
<It’s like you don’t even know me, Rika. I’m built out of ‘quick’.>
A laugh slipped past Rika’s lips. <Well, just remember that the B’muths don’t have stasis shields—>
<Swwwiiiiiing looow, sweet chaaaariot,> Ferris began to sing, and Rika sent him a long groan before closing the channel.
<OK, Chase, Ferris is on his way.>
<Glad to hear it,> Chase replied. <I estimate there are several thousand Niets out here…two B’muths may not be enough. I know we’re trying not to destroy this city, but can we maybe get some starfire?>
Rika focused her holodisplay on the region that Chase was operating in. With the bad scan transmission, the only data they had was from the mechs on the ground and the drones they’d deployed.
Chase’s company HQ element was deployed with his first platoon, putting a total of eighty-four mechs on the streets of central Memphis. They were spread out along seven avenues, advancing north toward the center of the city.
A kilometer ahead of them, the roads intersected an east-west thoroughfare named Bridge Street. It cut a broad swath through the city, even sporting a park filled with rocks and water features on its central boulevard.
North of Bridge Street lay a section of the city consisting of older, stone buildings. Which was, of course, where most of the Niets were set up.
Drone readings from the squads on first platoon’s flanks showed that the Niets were moving east and west along Bridge Street, seeking to encircle the mechs.
<Potter,> Rika reached out to M Company’s Tactics and Strategy AI, bringing her into the conversation with Chase. <What do you make of the enemy’s strength?>
<I estimate that we’re looking at nearly two thousand Niets on the northern side of the thoroughfare, maybe a hundred or two on First Platoon’s side. They’ve got some W7 cannons out there, and some goons in heavily armored mech frames. Those haven’t advanced across to our side of Bridge Street, but the cannons turned the approaches into rubble with not a lot of cover.>
Four red pins lit up on the display, noting the locations of the cannons. Then several dozen blue pins appeared, annotated by the estimated specs of the Nietzschean Goon-Mechs, or GMs—the Marauders’ term for squishies in mech frames somewhat like a K1R.
<Ferris is going to be coming in too fast, and at a bad angle to hit those cannons,> Rika mused as she thought over her options. <Smalls is up higher, and will pass over just after the B’muths drop. I have a suspicion that there’s a lot more anti-air tucked away in the city than we’ve seen, as well. Enough firepower could take out the B’muths before they even hit dirt.>
<I share your suspicion about the AA. Smalls and the Lance are too high up for beams, though,> Potter added. <It’ll have to be kinetics.>
<Smalls can make the shots,> Chase said confidently. <We’re a klick back, anyway. Safe as houses back here—you know, if those houses were on fire and being shot at.>
<I’ll sync up with Smalls,> Niki informed the command team.
<Break off several fireteams,> Rika ordered Chase. <Two per flank, and pull them back and around.>
<Flank the flankers,> Chase said, and Rika could almost hear his grin over the Link.
Potter made a tsking sound, however. <That’s going to thin us up a lot. I see that you’ve instructed Ferris to drop the B’muths at the front of your flanks as well. Once we crew them, your line’s going to be mighty thin.>
<You’re right,> Rika replied. <I’ll see about reinforcements. We haven’t pulled the ISF Marines into the mix yet.>
<You gonna send me squishies for backup?> Chase asked with a laugh.
Rika snorted. <Don’t forget, mister, you were a squishie ‘til a couple months ago.>
<What an idiot I was. Mechs ru—shit, they’re trying a sortie across Bridge Street. Gotta focus.>
<Going to drop Borden’s ISF Helljumpers here.> Rika noted a location behind the Nietzschean lines. <They claim their drop pods can fool Nietzschean scan. Let’s put that to the test.>
<Hell of a test,> Potter replied.
<Ha! I see what you did there. Getting all punny, Potter.>
The AI let out a sigh. <Obviously from all this exposure to you tin-heads.>
Rika laughed and closed the connection, summoning Leslie and Alice to her side.
“Here’s the situation with Chase and his first platoon,” Rika said as they looked down at the holotank. “We’re dropping B’muths and the ISF Marines; Niki is coordinating with Smalls to hit their cannons with kinetics. We need to take out the rest of their AA, too—once Fuller’s ‘toon takes the spaceport and gets us the Niets’s artillery deployments.”
“Shit,” Leslie muttered, her tail twitching at the tip—a sure-fire sign that she was annoyed. “That’s a tall order on the quick; especially with that many Niets out there. And here we thought Memphis would be an easy grab.”
“Doesn’t seem like there’s any such thing,” Alice replied, not a single note of apology in her voice for sending Chase into the lion’s den.
The city of Memphis was just one theatre of operation for Rika’s Marauders in the Blue Ridge System. Scarcliff and Crudge were up on Asmoian Station securing it with N Company. They were meeting with far less resistance up there than M company was seeing on
the ground. Of course, N company had two platoons for a station with only ten million inhabitants, while M Company was taking on an entire planet with just four platoons.
The Marauders’ saving grace was that the Republic, Asora, and Capital were easily holding back the small fleet of Nietzschean ships garrisoned in the Blue Ridge System. That left the Undaunted and Fury Lance free to help with the ground attacks—as their orbital paths permitted.
Dirtside, M Company’s second platoon was on the southern end of Memphis taking on a battalion of Niets at the spaceport, while third and fourth platoons were even further afield, securing targets on the far side of the planet.
“We don’t need a whole ‘toon to take the spaceport,” Alice said, highlighting first and second squad’s positions. “We could move these two up to reinforce First Platoon’s center.”
Rika shook her head, wondering how Alice was missing the urgency to take the Nietzschean CIC at the spaceport. “No, speed is of the essence. If we don’t get Smalls good targets yesterday, Ferris’s B’muths will just be smoking craters in the ground, and First Platoon will be even worse off. Fuller’s people need to keep their focus on the spaceport.”
Leslie nodded slowly. “That’s the right call. Half the Nietzschean supplies are there, as is their planetary operational command. Once Fuller gets that under control, we’ll hamper the Nietzschean communications more than a little.”
“So long as we can actually take the system-wide command center in that high-rise downtown,” Alice groused. “They’re going to have a lot more than just a few cannons.”
<Once Fuller gets us access to the network at the spaceport, we’ll learn the location of their artillery and send targeting data up to the Fury Lance,> Niki added to the conversation. <As soon as they realize we have that, a smart Nietzschean commander would surrender. That high-rise will just be a big ol’ wide open target.>