Invasion of Kzarch (7 page)

Mad, tearing her eyes away from the still burning pirates, cocked her head, then smiled brightly.

“I can kill anyone or anything I think is suspicious?”

“Sure. Knock yourself out,” said Bloody Jack, getting up.

Mad clapped her hands and laughed.

“Ooh, this is going to be
fun
!”

Ignoring her, Bloody Jack strode out of the room. Once he was safely away, he allowed himself a smile.

Up until now, things had been pretty much going the pirates; way. But now, with the arrival of the Marines, the loss of a good number of pirates, and the destruction of three gunboats…

Things were finally starting to go according to plan.

Chapter Six

A week had passed.

During that week the guerrillas ran various missions, some which ended in success, others poorly, and most in the middle. After that first mass attack, most of the missions had been on a one-by-one basis, which at least removed the possibility of a
major
disaster, but also slowed the pace of things.

Another problem had been the pirates’ gunboats. They would occasionally locate a guerrilla team, and attempt to wipe it out. Often, they’d succeed. Of course, the gunboats
had
taken losses too. Two more Blastfires had been shot down, and several others damaged.

Overall, it was hard to say that the guerrillas were making any serious progress though. Indeed, that was what Frank and Captain Fil’dwis were discussing. Despite their disastrous first mission, they had done a few more together, and become quite friendly.

“…so they lost a good few men trying to catch up. By the time we managed to lose them, there wasn’t much of them left to lose.”

“Heh. Good one.” Frank raised his cup in appreciation.

They both took a drink.

“Things overall haven’t been going so well though,” Frank commented, tone getting slightly dark.

“Yeah,” Captain Fil’dwis said, sobering as well. “Despite my team being reinforced several times, I still have less men than I started with. Fourteen men ain’t much.”

“Your sergeant, uh, …Driver? How’s she doing?”

“Dri’ver?” the captain automatically corrected. “Yes, she’s fine. More or less. Got hit by a bullet a couple of days ago. Won’t be back on duty for another two days.” He brooded over that, and took another swig.

Frank drank himself, then said, “The whole
situation
isn’t going too well, Tom. I’ve lost several more Marines, including Sergeant Lovel, of my third squad.” Actually, he had lost
most
of third squad, only two Marines and the corporal remaining. Third squad had been sent out on a night stealth mission, and had, through bad luck, been surprised by a pair of gunboats.

There had only been four survivors, and the one of those had died in medical. In total, the Marines had lost eighteen men since the start of their ill-fated mission.

“And we’re getting it even worse,” Tom said gloomily. “Last I heard we’ve lost nearly five hundred men. That’s over a fourth our forces. Nearer a third.”

Giving a nod, Frank considered the situation.

The general’s forces, at the start, had numbered seventeen hundred or so. The Marines added another sixty, although their capabilities meant that they were worth far more than just another platoon.

The pirates, however, numbered around three thousand, from when they had landed on Kzarch. They had supposedly lost six hundred or so, although Frank was careful not to rely too much on those numbers.

Not only that, but they still had nine gunboats left, plus three starships they had yet to put into play. Of course, if they knew what they were doing, they probably wouldn’t. Spaceships were just really large, slow targets in ground combat, and the pirates still might need them as a space patrol, or to flee.

The only target it would make any sense at all to use them against was the guerrillas’ main base, but the ‘headquarters’ were fairly well defended, including a good supply of missiles and entrenched launchers.

This created a slightly odd situation, for a guerrilla style war, wherein both forces knew where the other’s main site was, but couldn’t attack it without worrying they’d lose.

If only the guerrillas had some gunboats, Frank actually would have felt things weren’t too bad, but they didn’t. The only gunboats on the planet, besides those of the pirates, had been destroyed in the pirates’ surprise attack.

And without air support, the guerrillas kept getting in trouble. Especially now that the pirates were being more careful with their gunboats. They hadn’t lost one in the last four days.

The situation, as he had already said, just wasn’t favoring the guerrillas. They were losing too many men, for too little effect.

Moodily, he downed another cup of beer, vaguely noting he needed to stop soon. It wouldn’t be good to start getting drunk.

“What were you doing before you got into this mess?” Tom asked, in an attempt to divert the conversation. Apparently, he had been thinking things over too.

“What do you mean? Before I came here?”

“Were you on leave? Or were you assigned here immediately after another deployment?”

“Oh, no. Well, not exactly; I was ordered here after a week of leave, but before that, I was on a standard assignment. No action, just a guard duty sort of thing.”

“Have you seen much action in you time in the Marines?”

Frank laughed, perhaps a trifle on the sour side.

“Not really. I’ve seen more combat here than I have in all three previous years I’ve been in the Marines. Actually,” the lieutenant admitted, “I’ve only been in action twice before I came to Kzarch. Neither were even major battles. One was a light skirmish with pirates, nothing like this, and the other was just a brush with nutjobs.”

“Nutjobs?”

“Don’t ask.” Frank rolled his eyes.

“What about your family? Where are you from?”

“I’m from Emerald, a farming planet, more or less. Family? Well, last I heard they were doing fine. I’m the oldest of three, by a few years. My younger brother’s still in college, and my sister’s just graduated from high school, I think.
If
I got the dates worked out right…”

“Oldest? Heh, you’re lucky. I was the middle one of my family. Of five.”

“You lived here all your life?”

“Yeah. Visited some other planets when I was younger, but found I wasn’t much interested in traveling. ”

“You traveled as a tourist?”

“Nah, took a job as a ship worker. Then I came back here, started a business.”

“So being in the military wasn’t your first choice.” The captain chuckled.

“Actually, I’m only a reservist.”

“Really?” Frank was genuinely surprised. Considering how good Tom was at his job…

“Yeah. Joined soon after I came back, then quit to start a business, like I said. Only re-enlisted when the pirates showed up. The general knew me, so he promoted me and put me in charge of a team. I’ve been running missions ever since.”

“Huh. Tell me, since you said you knew the general; what’s he
really
like? I mean, although we’re working together, I can’t say I actually
know
him…”

“I didn’t mean I know him
well
…” Tom protested. “I just served directly under him for a bit. Honestly, I was a trifle surprised he remembered me at all.”

“Still, you know him better than
I
do. Tell me what you can about what makes him tick.”

Captain Fil’dwis hesitated.

“You have to understand…” he began slowly, “I don’t really mix much with Kzarch’s First Family.”

“First family?”

“That’s what they call themselves. They’re descended from the first family here, so… Anyway, the thing is, they dominate the Kzarch’s government. Always have. Probably always will Every governor we’ve had has always been one of them.” Frank repressed a wince. He knew such things weren’t uncommon on the more backwards planets, but still…

“Even the other important positions are usually filled by ‘em. It’s pretty rare we get someone who isn’t from the First Family in charge of anything really important. Thing is, the general, he wanted to be on the top. He was a grand-nephew of the previous governor, and figured he was the best choice once the previous guy died. But instead, the former governor’s son was chosen, his uncle. He, ah… wasn’t too happy about it.”

“So he’s ambitious. And had his ambition frustrated?”

“Bingo. Actually, I’d guess that one of the reasons he’s been running this whole show, the guerrilla thing, I mean, is because he figures that when the pirates get kicked out of here, he’ll be put in charge. Or something.”

“I see.” In his mind, Frank frowned. He didn’t really approve of the general’s ambitions, though, to be fair, he didn’t like politics regardless. Then he gave a shrug, and downed another cup.

Not his problem, although he did rather sympathize with the Kzarchians, who apparently had their government chosen for them.

Then he stood up.

“I think I’d better stop here, before I get drunk. You coming?”

“No, I have something else to do.”

“Oh? You got a date?”

Tom snorted, but looked uncomfortable.

Laughing, Frank waved and headed out of the makeshift bar, back to his platoon.

Chapter Seven

Cursing to himself, Frank lifted himself off the ground.

“Lieutenant?” the guerrilla captain asked cautiously.

“I’m fine,” the Marine snapped. “Let’s go. We’re already behind schedule.”

With a gesture, the captain did just that, sending his team forward along with their Marine reinforcements. Carefully though, as the current mission was being run at night.

Trudging on, Frank wished now that he hadn’t decided to come along. He had forgotten how hard it was make battlesuits maneuver properly at night, when the power was off.

Still, nothing to be done about it now.

“Camp ahead, ‘bout a mile!” a scout quietly called out.

Frank considered his mental map. Right, they must be almost over the hill now. The pirate camp should be… on the right.

As he hauled himself over the top of the hill’s ‘peak’, Frank glanced towards where he thought the pirates would be. It took another couple of moments of scanning around though, before he located them.

“Move it!” a guerrilla sergeant hissed at him, probably thinking he was just another Marine.

Without saying anything, Frank did as he was told.

Now that they were within a mile of their target, the guerrilla team was moving slowly and cautiously, though the dark night meant that they had been going slow in the first place.

“Sir?” came softly whispered over the com.

“Yes?” the lieutenant replied, equally muted.

“I think they’ve spotted us.”

Frank frowned. The Marines had been rotating sensor duty, leaving one of the battlesuits’ sensors on while the others stayed off.

For a moment, the lieutenant wished it was his turn, or that he could turn on his own sensors for a quick check. But he’d have to make the decision without that.

“How likely?” he quietly snapped.

“Fairly sure, sir. Can’t imagine why else they’d be moving around like that.”

“Damn. All right.” Moving faster, though still being as careful as he could, Frank made his way over to the guerrilla team’s captain.

“They’ve spotted us.” Frank informed him.

The man swore, than made a few frantic gestures. Immediately, the entire group sped up. Mentally cursing, Frank did his best to keep up; not an easy task in the dark and while wearing a heavy, encumbering, unpowered battlesuit.

***

“I’m tellin’ you, I’m sure they spotted something!”

“Yeah, sure. And where
is
that something?”

The pirate commander was feeling grumpy, most unhappy at having been awoken for what was apparently nothing.

“Look, I’ll rerun it for you-
See?
Right there!”

The other rolled his eyes, and turned around.

“The sensors blipped. So what? It’s probably just them malfunctioning; wouldn’t be unusual. No reason for you to hit the alarm.”

“But the guerrillas-”

“What, want to fight in
this
?” The pirate waved his hand eloquently at the deep darkness.

“Nah, only
you
are stupid enough to want that.” The pirate on sensor duty flushed.

“But-” he began to protest again.

The commander made a rude noise, cutting him off.

“Alright, I’m going back to sleep. Head to your beds everyone! It was just ol’ jumpy Jaspers again.” There were a few murmurs, not everyone as sure as he was.

“Unless somebody wants to go and check it out?” he continued with a slightly menacing air.

Though the pirates had been alarmed when the siren had called them from their beds, the commander’s words had soothed them enough for them to want head back to ‘em, not checking out some, probably worthless, sensor hit.

Some yawning, they turned back to their barracks.

It was at that point when the alarm sounded again.

“Jaspers, you wanna be
shot
!?” the pirate commander growled, hand dropping to his gun, spinning around.

“Look!” was all the other said, triumphantly, as a speck of red contacts appeared and disappeared on the screen.

“
Oh shit.
”

***

Near noiselessly, aside from a few thuds and thumps, the team made its way towards the pirate encampment, moving as fast as they were able.

Twelve minutes ‘til they reached it, then nine, then seven, then…

KRAACCkkk-BOOOM

“MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!” a guerrilla called, as the sound of the missile’s explosion began to fade. Another one was already being launched by the pirates, though this one to a different location.

“Can he continue?” the team leader snapped.

“He’s hit in the leg; badly!” another replied, leaning down towards his fallen comrade. A red glare lit up the scene, as the second missile exploded nearby.

“Dammit.
All right, bandage him, then leave him.” Before anyone could protest, he preempted them.

“No arguments! We’ve got to keep moving! Lieutenant Harsmith, take your men ahead and try to keep the pirates busy ‘til we arrive!”

The lieutenant saluted, and, activating his suit, surged forward with the other Marines.

To the fallen soldier, the team captain said, “You’re going to have to stay here. We’ll pick you up when we head back, okay, Jimmy?” Left unsaid was the qualifier, ‘
If
we make it back’.

“Y-yeah. I’ll be waiting,” the other whispered, trying to hide his pain as he was bandaged.

With a short nod, the team captain headed forward, his men falling in behind him, though not without a few, ignored, grumbles.

***

“Keep firing! Kill ‘em!” The pirate commander’s voice was edging towards frantic. The approaching guerrillas were making him fear for his life, something he wasn’t accustomed to be doing. The closest he usually came was making
others
fear for
their
lives.

“Everyone, get to your positions! Shoot anything you see! Stop them before they get too close!”

Their commander’s fear catching, they obeyed with a will.

***

“They’re really laying the fire down heavily, aren’t they?” one marine commented, calmly starting to line up a shot.

“Maybe they’re finally starting to take all this seriously,” Frank suggested, snapping off a quick weg bolt, which missed.

“Pftt. One.” announced the first marine, killing a pirate.

A double shot sounded out, striking through the yet dark forest.

“Two.” the third marine said laconically.

***

“Those are Marines out there!”

“Shut up!” The pirate commander was frantically trying to think, of some way,
any
way, of getting out of the situation he was in. Though he tried to reassure himself that his pirates were in a good position, and would be able to repulse the guerrillas, he couldn’t help but doubt it. If only there was something he could really
do…

Then the fire into the camp increased greatly, far more shots than could come from three Marines.

“The guerrillas…!”

***

“Captain, we’re going ahead.”

“What?” The guerrilla sounded almost absentminded, as he aimed his rifle.

“Me and my Marines. We’re going to get up close, and see if we can’t cause enough trouble that they’ll break.”

“You know what to do best,” the captain said dispassionately, pulling the trigger twice, eying the result with scant satisfaction. “Go ahead.”

“Yessir.”

With a quick command over the com, Frank and the two Marines launched themselves into the air. Although the walk in unpowered battlesuits had been a major pain, at least it had left them plenty of power to play with.

***

Now almost gibbering, the pirate commander sent several blind shots into the forest, vaguely in the directions of the guerrillas, although too high to actually hit any.

They were stuck. Completely stuck.

The only way they could escape would be if one of their gunboats or shuttles showed up, and by the looks of things, the battle would be over before then. Were they to try to flee and hide in the forest, they would certainly be hunted down and killed by the guerrillas, who, to his crazed and paranoiac mind, seemed to be behind every tree.

Oh, if only something would
end
this nightmare!

And then came the answer to his prayer.

From the heights of the night fell the three Marines, like demons, or perhaps vampires, descending onto their prey.

The pirates, already wavering, broke, as the Marines, amidst them, began striking them down with a cold, efficient skill. They scatted in all directions, shooting at anything that seemed to be a threat; themselves, on occasion.

The pirate commander himself turned to flee, taking a few steps towards a nearby shed, when a weg bolt struck him in the lower back, sending him tumbling to the floor, with his life draining away.

His last thought, as the dark night filled him, was of fleeting regret that he hadn’t shot Jaspers when he had the chance.