Armored Tears (18 page)

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Authors: Mark Kalina

BOOK: Armored Tears
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Aran
put a hand on her shoulder and tried to keep his voice calm. "Listen,
Ulla. You have to keep calm. If we lose our calm, we have
no chance
of getting out of this. We have to keep our eyes open,
and we have to act fast and smart, based on what we see. Right now, none of the
Arcadians has so much as frowned at us. If real UEN forces, Peace Force
soldiers, get close, maybe we can run to safety. But we can't panic. And what
Bernie said about explosives makes sense. We need to get inside the carrier,
OK?"

Ulla
let him lead her, but she was shaking and crying, and she said nothing.

 

***

           

Captain
Wilson had drones out, so the attack wasn't a surprise.

"Company,
heads up!" the captain voice called over the company comm push. "Just
lost our drones. Looks like hostile frame infantry coming in. Stand to and
stand by."

"You
heard him, B-squad!" Bernie shouted. "Just like your training, guys.
Scan, acquire, shoot, cover and move. Then repeat. Easy, right?"

A
few nervous chuckles greeted her words.
   

Each
one of her men had a fighting trench, wide enough to let a framer move between
firing positions and not need to pop up twice in exactly the same place. Each
man also had a fallback position planned out among the rocks behind, though
getting to it would mean breaking cover.

She
saw the enemy drones first, skimming over the ground, weaving back and forth to
make themselves hard to acquire.

"Take
'em out, guys," she ordered her squad, even as the captain came onto the
comm push and ordered "Company, engage those drones."

M39
rifles cracked out shots. Pulling the trigger gave the smart-rifle's computer
permission to fire when it detected that the round
would
hit the acquired target. But the system couldn't compensate
for targets that weren't where the targeting computer expected them to be when
the bullet arrived. Skilled frame troopers, on the other hand, could.

Bernie
watched the drone she was tracking weave, guessing at its pattern and tapping
her rifle sight's controls to adjust the targeting solution. There was a
crack
as the rifle went off, and a
second later the drone exploded into fragments as the heavy, armor-piercing
8.5mm bullet struck.

All
around her, the rest of the company's frame troopers were doing the same.
Against the agile drones, nine out of ten shots missed, but with something like
sixty smart-rifles firing, the flight of drones didn't last long. None lasted
long enough to overfly the Arcadian's positions.

"What
do you want to bet they send in..." Chief-Sergeant Norton started to say.

A
salvo of missiles streaked into view, coming up out of the dead ground ahead of
the company.

"...missiles
next," Chief-Sergeant Norton finished.

"Take
cover!" shouted the captain, over the company comm push. "Frame
carriers stand by point defenses!"

Almost
two dozen missiles streaked in, and there was nothing for Bernie to do but hug
the dirt at the bottom of her trench. The missiles shouldn't be able to track
frames, she thought... or prayed.

The
surviving six carriers opened up with their auto-smartguns, the weapons slaved
to the vehicles' point defense control systems. A few bursts hit inbound
missiles, detonating them mid-air. A few of the missile detonations set off
other missiles nearby. But almost twenty missiles kept flying.

The
sound of the anti-rocket panels going off was like erratic bursts of heavy
gunfire; a rattling series of explosions, punctuated by the louder
CRACK
of exploding missile warheads.

Then
the sound faded and Bernie got her head up to see what had happened.

Before
she could take a look at the carriers, she saw the faint hint of motion. A
glance through her M39's targeting sight showed the thermal signature of an
enemy framer, darting from cover to cover, heading right at her. The ground
ahead of her was full of enemy framers, she realized.

Training
and instinct made her duck just a second before a UEN smart-rifle bullet
cracked through the space her head had just been in.

"Enemy
framers!" she shouted on the squad comm push. "Acquire and engage!
They're headed in!"

Crawling
fast to the other end of the trench, she popped up and tried to acquire one of
the enemy framers. There he was, she saw, not far from where she'd expected.
Acquire, press the engagement trigger, a fraction of a second and then the
crack of the shot... and down! Back into cover before a counter-shot could hit
her.

Back
to another section of her trench, so that she wouldn't pop up exactly where an
enemy framer's targeting system was already aimed. Up! Find a target! Acquire
with the M39's sight, press the trigger and let the rifle shoot. They were
closer now, and she saw her target go down before she ducked again.
      

Enemy
bullets streaked by over her trench. Too many enemy smart-rifles were targeted
on her trench now, she realized. Against unarmored infantry, an air-burst
grenade could kill from above; her frame let her wear armor that would protect
her from that, but not from getting pinned down till the enemy closed in and
hosed her down with zipper fire. Time to fall back.

Bernie
pulled a concealment grenade and lobbed it out of the trench. Then, as a cloud
of hot smoke billowed out, she vaulted out of the trench and sprinted for the
fallback position behind her. Rounds cracked by next to her but nothing hit
her, and she hit the ground behind the rocks, rolling up into a firing position
and scanning for more targets.

All
around her, the rest of the company was doing the same. Scanning, acquiring,
firing and evading. Falling back when their forward positions became too well
targeted.

And
the enemy was pushing closer and closer. In the dust and smoke of multiple
concealment grenades, it was hard to tell how many enemy framers were being
hit.

A
few calls of "I'm hit!" or "medic!" told her that some of
her side was being hit, though. She could see some of the enemy framers clearly
now, enough to make out the distinctive outlines of weapons, armor and helmets;
they were definitely UEN Peace Force troops.

She
popped up again, acquired a signature where none of her people should have
been, fired and saw her target drop. One more, she thought as she ducked back
and crawled to another firing position in the rocks. How many of them are out
there?

The
sound of one of the carrier's auto-smartguns firing was one of the best sounds
she'd ever heard. A short burst rang out, and then another. And another.

Bernie
popped up again, scanned, found a target, acquired and engaged. But this time
the target was running
away
! They
were
all
running away!

"Run
you pisser motherfuckers!" she screamed, not bothering to duck as she
acquired another enemy framer and brought him down. "Yeah!"

One
or two of the UEN framers turned to shoot back, but the auto-smart gun kept
hammering away, dropping an enemy framer with almost every precisely targeted
burst. She saw three go down before the weapon fell silent. No more targets she
realized.

Only
then did she think to wonder why only a single auto-smartgun had been firing.
She looked back to where the carriers had been parked. The outpost and five
carriers around it were a nightmare of twisted, burning metal. Only one carrier
was still intact, though its anti-rocket panels were mostly expended and its
hull was blackened and dented by the near detonation of missiles.

Oh,
shit, she thought.

 

***

 

Aran
and Ulla crouched low in the trench as missiles exploded all around them. The
concussive blasts of missiles the anti-missile panels going off felt like
punches, physically painful and jarring.

Ulla
was screaming, tears running down her face, pounding at the ground with her
fists. Aran was trying to hold her down, but the blasts made him want to curl
up and scream himself.

And
then the blasts were done. Aran rose to crouch and tried to look around.
Choking dust was everywhere, but he could see that the carriers were now
burning sculptures of twisted metal, sending columns of black smoke into the
sky.

"Good
thing we didn't go back in those," he said.

Ulla
said nothing.

The
sound of single, heavy rifle shots began to ring out. First a few, then
discordant volleys; dozens of rifles firing one shot at a time.

Aran
knew that showing his head would be a dangerous risk, but he wanted to
see
. Hiding in the bottom of trench
seemed worse than the danger of being shot, somehow.

A
quick look showed him Arcadian frame troopers aiming, shooting, and then
ducking back into their trenches. And out on the field, the dim, smoke-shrouded
shapes of UEN Peace Force frame troopers, running, evading, shooting in turn.

Here
and there an Arcadian trooper was hit, slammed down by the heavy bullets fired
by the Peace Force troops. But for every Arcadian that went down, four or five
Peace Force framers were being hit. The Arcadians were
better
soldiers, Aran realized. And not by a small margin. But
there were many more Peace Force framers than there were Arcadians.

And
then the one surviving carrier, which Aran had not noticed in the smoke and
dust, opened fire with its automatic gun. The bursts had a precise,
machine-like quality to Aran's ears; each one
exactly
as long as the previous one, each one fired at
exactly
the same interval. And with each
burst, a Peace Force frame trooper went down.

Peace
Force troops tried to shoot back, but the carrier was armored against them and
their shots rang off its armor, striking sparks but doing no harm. The Peace
Force framers probably had anti-armor missile launchers, Aran thought; he'd
seen them in vids... and likely had seen them in action, just a little while
ago. But either the Peace Force troopers had no missile left, or else none of
the troopers who tried to bring up a missile-launcher survived long enough to
fire.

And
then the Peace Force troopers were retreating, running back and diving for
cover. Arcadian framers were standing up, shooting at the running figures. And
the automatic gun on the carrier kept up its chillingly precise fire.

"No!"
Ulla screamed. "No! Don't run away! Don't leave me!"

Suddenly,
with a violent shove, she was up and out of the trench, running out into the
open.

"I'm
a civilian!" she shouted, waving her arms over her head. "I'm UEN!
Help me!"

A
few Peace Force framers were still shooting back as they retreated. Aran saw
one half-turn and shoot as Ulla ran and waved. A puff of red mist exploded from
the back of Ulla's head. Her body dropped to the ground like a puppet with its
strings cut.

"No..."
Aran whispered, suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of sick futility. "Oh,
no..."

 

***

 

Sergeant
Li Ziming watched with disgust as the Peace Force frame troopers fell back. It
had been beyond foolish to send them into a head-on attack, without the support
of the two tanks.
Beyond
foolish.

He
knew better than to protest, though. None of the regular Peace Force officers
were going to listen to a sergeant.

Now,
he thought, only now they will send it the tanks, and finish this. Only after
they have killed dozens of their own men.

Fighting
these Arcadians, he thought, wasn't like overwhelming poorly trained separatist
militia. Still, the tanks
were
rolling forward now.

Sergeant
Li shook his head and uttered a silent prayer to the Buddha that he'd
never
have to work with regular Peace
Force troops again.

 

***

           
 
          

The
UEN tanks had announced their presence with a long-ranged burst of main gun
fire that eradicated the ruined remains of the communication outpost. They were
firing from several kilometers away, but even so, their rounds arrived before
the rolling thunder of their cannons' reports. Fragments of stone and alloy
flew everywhere, making people duck as they ran for their trenches.

"Company!"
came the captain's shouted order. "All units fall back to Rally Point
Zulu!"

The
rally point was just a spot on the map, Bernie thought. Nothing there except
for some more rocks. But there was no chance of surviving if they stayed here.

The
last surviving carrier popped a salvo of concealment grenades, shrouding the
company's position in white smoke, and then took off across the broken ground,
heading in direction that would
not
take it to the rally point, venting more concealment smoke as it went.

"Brave
motherfuckers," Bernie whispered to herself, watching it go. Then,
"B-squad! Move out!" she ordered. "Let's
go
, people! Let's go!"

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