First To Fight (The Empire's Corps Book 11) (25 page)

I felt an odd stab of envy.  Joker and I had walked through Liberty Island, admiring the neat houses - so alien compared to the Undercity - and the confident men, women and children who made up the population.  They lived without fear, knowing that they were allowed to stand up for themselves - and defend themselves with deadly force, if necessary.  The contrast between them and my family, growing up in a nightmare, could hardly be more pronounced.

We completed our stay on the station with the first of many - many - orbital dives.  In theory, it was very similar to parachuting - we had jumped from some impressively high altitudes on Mars - but in practice it was quite different.  Civilians did orbital jumping too, but civilians tended to use tougher equipment.  Marines preferred to remain unnoticed.

“The planetary defences are designed to track objects entering the planet’s atmosphere,” Southard told us, as we donned the first set of suits.  “A marine in a suit is an easy target, if they detect and identify him in the first place.  Accordingly, standard procedure is to pretend to be a piece of space junk re-entering the planet’s atmosphere.  It isn't uncommon for pieces of hullmetal to make it all the way to the ground, even if they’re relatively small.”

He smiled.  “Ideally, we'd want to use a meteor shower for camouflage,” he added, “but we so rarely get a perfect storm right when we want it.  Pieces of space junk make much better cover.”

I cursed, mentally.  I’d pretty much overcome the agoraphobia that had plagued my early days at Boot Camp, but I really wasn't mentally prepared to dive through a planet’s atmosphere.  Not that I had a choice, I knew; there was no way to avoid making the jump if I wanted to be a marine.  There was honour, genuine honour, in serving as a marine auxiliary, but it wasn't what I wanted.  Besides, I wasn't sure I could offer many skills to the auxiliaries, save shooting.  I had trained hard, yet I was no engineer, or medic, or EOD officer ...

“One by one,” Southard ordered.  “Joker; go.”

It was my turn to jump next.  I walked into the airlock, then braced myself as best as I could as the exterior hatch opened, revealing the Slaughterhouse below me.  This time, I didn't allow myself to show any signs of hesitation as I stepped out of the airlock and used my EVA jets to tip myself towards the planet.  Unlike parachuting, there was no immediate sense of descent; it would have been easy enough, if I had wished, to remain in orbit.  But I kept inching down until the planet’s gravity caught hold and
pulled
.  My suit started to flash up warnings as the exterior armour heated up.  There was nothing I could do, but wait and pray; there was no way to slow my fall until I was in the lower atmosphere. 

And if this was real
, I thought grimly,
I’d be leaving a flaming trail behind me that a blind man could see
.

I clicked the switch as soon as I reached the right altitude and deployed the parachute.  My suit shook violently as my fall slowed dramatically, but not enough to prevent me hitting the surface with enough force to hurt.  For a second, I was stunned and then training took over.  I pulled the parachute, smouldering slightly after the passage through the atmosphere, away from me, then keyed the bolts on the suit.  It shattered, allowing me to jump free, weapon in hand.  No one came to greet me as I looked around, taking in a swampy environment that threatened to swallow me if I put my foot in the wrong place.  Had I drifted off my assigned course?

We were warned it might happen that way
, I thought. 
But they will have tracked my descent.

I was on the verge of striking out for home anyway - despite strict orders to stay as close to the suit as possible - when the helicopter came into view.  They picked me up, collected the remains of the suit and then flew me back to barracks.  Southard was waiting for us, armed with a copy of the descent records.  Half of us, it seemed, had drifted off course quite badly.

“That’s par for the course, unfortunately,” he said, once he’d finished outlining the results.  “It’s hard to make any sort of course changes without alerting the enemy to your true nature - and by the time you’re under their radar environment, it’s too late to make any significant changes.  But we will work on it.”

I groaned, inwardly.  But we worked on it anyway.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Again, if anything, Edward effectively understates the case.  By the time I was exiled to Avalon, there were enough multi-ship pirate bands operating along the Rim - even within the Inner Worlds - to pose a serious threat to public security.  Some of them were even commanded by men who had sensed, however dimly, the fading of the Empire and sought to take advantage of it.  Indeed, the pirate group that attacked Avalon, shortly after we were cut off from Earth, was led by a man who believed he could found an empire of his own.  He came alarmingly close to success.

-Professor Leo Caesius

“What you have done, so far, fits into two categories,” Southard said, two months after we began.  The platoon stood to attention, eying him warily.  “First, you have refreshed and expanded upon skills taught at Boot Camp; second, you have trained to deal with problems that are rarely faced by regular soldiers.  Now, it’s time for you to face considerably greater challenges.  Your mission is as follows.”

We watched him carefully as he projected a map in front of us.  “Chesty - a city with a population of over two million souls - is under siege by the Bolshevik Liberation Army,” he said.  “As you can see, the BLA has managed to cut the city off from its sources of supply in the hinterlands and, after a dazzlingly successful raid on the ports, destroyed most of the fishing boats that might otherwise have brought in enough food to keep the city going.  Our most favourable projection suggests that the city will be forced to surrender within two weeks, unless something happens to raise the siege.”

Joker raised a hand.  “Why not bombard the BLA positions from orbit?”

“Most of their positions are surrounded by innocent civilians, mostly children,” Southard informed him.  “The Imperial Navy is prepared to consider a bombardment as a last resort; however a successful bombardment will not only kill thousands of civilians, but also destroy the food supplies the city needs.  In short, they’re up shit creek and sinking fast.  Luckily, we believe we have an alternative solution.”

He tapped a control.  The map focused on a small village thirty kilometres from the front lines.  “According to our intelligence, Comrade Li Hamah - the BLA commander-in-chief - is stationed there, directing operations personally.  She rose to the post of supreme commander after the previous two commanders were killed in the early stages of the war; since then, she has spent more time playing politics with her fellow communists rather than prosecuting the war.   She is something of a mystery; we don’t even have a photograph of her.  It is no exaggeration to state that removing her might well trigger a faction fight amongst the BLA to nominate her replacement.”

“Thus winning time to replenish the city,” Joker commented.

“Precisely,” Southard agreed.  “You will plan and carry out an operation to take her into custody - or, as a last resort, to kill her.  Stalker,
you
will be Troop Leader this time.”

I nodded, refusing to show any signs of nervousness.  I’d been Troop Leader several times - easy come, easy go - but it always worried me.  I disliked being responsible for others lives; I knew, intellectually, that it was a giant exercise, yet it was still possible for someone to get killed while under my command.  Southard gave me the map, a datachip loaded with intelligence and a list of assets under my command.  There wasn’t much, beyond the platoon itself.  A pair of helicopters, a handful of drones and the promise of fire support if things got too hairy.

“Don’t count on it,” Southard warned, when he saw what I was studying.  “The Imperial Navy is either ruthless, hammering targets so hard they often hit friendly forces too, or completely pusillanimous about firing when they’re not sure of the target.  It depends on just who happens to be in command at any given moment.”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

The platoon gathered around me as I placed a printed map on the table.  “This is the plan, so far,” I said.  “We take the helicopters to here, a location five miles from Target Alpha, and hike the rest of the way.  The helicopters make their way to a safer place if we can't get some additional security to them, while we attack the village, kill the defenders and capture our target.  Once we have her, we either call the helicopters in directly or make our way back to the LZ and link up with them there.  Any thoughts?”

We hashed over the details until we were all satisfied with the basic idea.  It might seem odd - a military unit cannot be a democracy - but the marines preferred to share ideas, just to make sure that nothing was overlooked.  There weren't many points, save for a suggestion from Joker that we didn't take anything heavier than a machine gun with us.  Target Alpha - there was no name attached to the village, so we gave it one - didn't look any different from the other villages, a construction of wood and mud rather than stone or anything that would stand up to even the lightest weapons. 

“Very good,” I said, once we were ready.  “Let’s move.”

The Marine Corps had spent a staggering amount of time and resources on building the Slaughterhouse, more money than I’d ever expected to see in a lifetime, but it wasn't until the exercise began that I started to understand - truly understand - just how much they’d done.  It was far more than just a shooting range, or a march over the long-dead volcano on Mars; it was an entire region that had been designed to serve as an exercise ground.  Chesty, the city under siege, was practically a
real
city; the only thing it lacked, it seemed, was an actual population. 

They pay people to play civilians caught in the middle of a war zone
, I thought, as the helicopter swooped low over the jungle. 
And they have trained soldiers ready to play the part of our enemies
.

Joker clapped my shoulder.  “It’s a good plan,” he said.  “Don’t worry about a thing.”

I snorted as the helicopters dropped down towards the LZ.  “I’m not worried about my plan,” I said, shortly.  “I’m worried about what will happen when the plan goes to hell.”

We jumped out of the helicopters, weapons raised, as soon as they landed and secured the LZ.  I was expecting everything from a hail of incoming fire to a flanking attack on the helicopters, but nothing materialised.  The helicopter pilots took off, as per orders, while I checked our location manually and then led the way towards Target Alpha.  It was hot and muggy the moment we stepped under the jungle canopy, but there was enough noise in the vicinity to conceal our movements from any listening ears.  Everything was going well, far too well.  I was tense as hell by the time we holed up close to Target Alpha, then dispatched Joker and Sif to sneak forward.  They were the stealthiest people in the platoon.

Joker returned, ten minutes later.  “Found a place to spy on them,” he said.  “Coming?”

I nodded and crawled behind him until we reached the overhang.  The village was smaller than I’d realised; really, it was more of a hamlet.  I wouldn't have suspected anything if I hadn't been close enough to see a handful of guards in various positions, watching for encroaching threats.  There weren't any workers in the fields either, which were starting to look suspiciously overgrown.  But then, the BLA could have accomplished its objectives by driving away the farmers or forcing them to take refuge within the city.

“Joker, Bloodnok and I will attack the main compound,” I said, after I had finished checking the village.  I was fairly sure that Comrade Li would be using the smallest building compatible with running an insurgency, but there weren't many to choose from in Target Alpha.  “When we’re in position, I’ll send a signal.  I want the remainder of the platoon to lay down a murderous fire against the enemy guards.”

“Aye, sir,” Sif said.

We sneaked down into position as quickly as we could, doing everything we could to avoid detection.  The insurgents didn't seem to be very good guards, but we knew better than to take that for granted.  As soon as we were ready, I sent the signal and the platoon opened fire, shots picking off the visible guards before they had a chance to react.  I ran forward, trusting to the platoon to cover my back, and slapped a breeching charge against the door.  It exploded, blowing the door inwards; I lunged inside, screaming for the inhabitants to drop their weapons and put their hands in the air.  A man swung around, trying to draw a pistol; I dropped him where he stood.  The other three people in the room, all women, stared at me with defiant eyes.  But which one of them was our target?

“Comrade Li,” I snapped.  “Come here and the others will be spared.”

Two of the women glared at me.  The third, a younger woman with dark eyes, pulled at her belt.  It came undone, allowing her robe to slip to the floor.  Her body was scarred, as if she had been whipped badly enough to leave permanent marks; she lowered her eyes the moment she saw I was looking at her.

“Stop that,” I ordered.  “What are you doing?”

“You’re going to rape me,” the woman said, pitifully.  “There's no way I can resist, so ...”

She clutched her breasts, holding them up.  “I can make it good for you, if you don't hurt me.”

“We’re not going to rape you,” I said.  There was something about the whole act that bothered me, something nagging at the back of my mind.  Understanding clicked a second later.  Who would look twice at a girl who had been beaten down so badly?  “Comrade Li?”

The girl’s eyes flashed with hatred.  “You ...”

“Put your dress back on,” I ordered.  “If you come with us now, your friends will be left here.”

Comrade Li did as she was told.  The other two women were searched quickly - one of them was hiding a pistol in a spot that must have been incredibly uncomfortable - and bound with plastic ties, then placed against the wall.  I had a feeling they would be in for some trouble when their comrades found them, but at least they would have a chance at life.  Maybe I should have killed them both, yet I’d given my word.  Ideally, I would have liked to take them with us, but that didn't seem possible.

I searched Comrade Li as soon as she was dressed - she flinched at my touch, which didn't stop me removing a knife and a small pistol from her robe - and then bound her hands before leading her outside.  The shooting had stopped; there was no point in trying to conceal our presence any longer, so I keyed my radio and asked for an update.

“The fighters are dead, sir,” Sif reported.  “We got them all.”

“Good,” I said.  I switched channels as I hurried Comrade Li up the slope towards the rest of the platoon.  “Flight, Stalker; come get us ...”

I broke off as a hail of fire crashed towards us.  For a horrified moment, I thought there had been a ghastly blue-on-blue, then I realised the enemy had had another unit hiding out in the jungle, only a few short minutes from the village.  Someone had had enough initiative to march to the sound of the guns.

“Belay that,” I said, countermanding my order.  We hurried as I tried to work out where the enemy was.  Behind us, it seemed.  They hadn't had the time to surround the village and then advance from all possible angles of attack.  “Hold position.”

Joker pointed his rifle at Comrade Li’s head.  “Call for them and you’re a dead woman.”

“It won’t be enough,” I said.  I thought I recognised the true fanatic in her eyes.  We didn't normally gag prisoners, but I found a piece of cloth and jammed it into her mouth.  She glared bloody murder at me; I ignored her as we linked up with the rest of the platoon and exchanged notes.  “We’re going to have to march out of here.”

“Aye, sir,” Joker said.

“Blackmon, you and Bloodnok leave a handful of traps behind to upset the enemy,” I ordered.  If we were lucky, we’d have a chance to break contact before they realised they needed to give chase, but I had a feeling we wouldn't be lucky.  “The remainder of us will start moving to the LZ.”

“Better keep a sharp eye on her,” Sif advised.  She gave Comrade Li a sharp look; the insurgent leader glared back at her, seemingly unbothered by captivity.  “Better still to carry her.”

I nodded.  “You and Dodger carry her,” I ordered.  They could carry her on a branch, which would ensure they each had a hand free.  “Let’s move.”

It was nearly seven minutes before we heard the first booby trap detonate.  I cursed inwardly, sharing a look with Joker.  Someone might have been injured or killed - at the very least, their day would have been ruined - but they now knew which way we were going.  We pushed onwards as fast as we could, leaving a number of traps behind us.  They kept detonating with alarming frequency.