The Great Betrayal (30 page)

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Authors: Michael G. Thomas

BOOK: The Great Betrayal
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“We’re not down here to kill them all. We’re here to stop them moving their forces. The longer we can keep them busy, the better.”

Jack was surprised at his friend’s grasp of what needed to be done. He was right, of course. They were behind the frontline, yet this one place was used to move Animosh forces safely to a hundred different positions. If they destroyed the tunnels, they would just have to find an alternative. By letting them feel they had a chance, they could be contained, and that would give the Helions their best chance at finishing the job.

“Makes sense. We’re here to pin their troops down so the rebels can end this. The 17
th
have surrounded them and are making breaches in their defenses. We are a thorn in their side. If they want to plug the gaps in their defenses, they will need to deal with us.”

“Really? I don’t think so,” said Private Riku, “More likely we don’t have the time or gear to do it. Have you seen the walls of this place?”

Jack looked off to his right and at the smooth wall. He’d assumed it was solid rock but on closer inspection could see it was some form of metallic substance.

“What is it?” he asked quietly.

Sergeant Stone appeared behind the group.

“Keep your eye on the tunnel, marines. We ain’t paid here for gawping. You will let them get close and then hit the bastards hard.”

He pointed in the direction he wanted them to look.

“Look what we have here.”

A six-wheeled vehicle with Animosh markings raced down the middle tunnel. The Helions’ vehicles shared some similarities with those of the Alliance, but they tended to be smaller and were designed for urban pacification rather than general combat. The front was a sealed unit with a slab front and small vision slits, the perfect design for use in street riots. As it came closer, three more vehicles appeared behind it. They were all moving dangerously fast. White flashes danced about the turret mount fitted above the crew areas.

“Keep down!” Wictred called out.

He was just in time, for as the marines ducked, the burst of gunfire ripped into the PBUs. These were thermal rounds, the type of ammunition favored by the Animosh. The gunfire was wild and erratic, and with the vehicles bumping about, it was almost impossible for them to target any particular individual. They must have spotted the marine defensive line but nothing seemed to slow them down.

The charges? Why haven’t they gone off?
Jack wondered.

“Take aim!” Sergeant Stone ordered.

Every marine rested a rifle or carbine on the defensive walls and took aim at the approaching vehicles. They didn’t need to be told to select the high-power modes; it was simply a matter of training. They waited, and the vehicles came closer and closer. By the time they were within four hundred meters the shapes of hundreds of Helions was just about visible. They were like a horde of wild animals, running or jogging after the armored vehicles. Jack looked back at the final wall the engineers were working on. He could see only four marines were guarding it; and behind that was the platform, the transport hub, and the rest of the tunnels.

This is insane. They’ll run through us in seconds!

Wictred must have noticed his friend’s nerves. He dropped down next to him even though half of his body was still exposed. There was something about Jack that had changed. It wasn’t cowardice; he’d seen enough of that before. It seemed more like Jack had dropped his hotheaded arrogance of youth, something he'd always quite liked about the young man. Before, Jack would have leapt into battle without thought, just like him. Now Jack was becoming more calculating, as if he suspected life was in fact far more dangerous than before.

“You ready, Jack. This is gonna get messy, and we need guns on the line!”

Jack glanced at him and felt flushed with anger.

“Don’t worry about me, Wictred, I know what I’m doing.”

He spotted Sergeant Stone’s arm in the air and then it dropped, a simple yet effective signal for the entire unit.

“Fire!”

On the Sergeant’s order, the entire front defense line opened fire. A full platoon, over forty marines, filled the tunnel with magnetized rounds from their carbines and six explosive shells from each squad’s support L48 rifles. The front of the nearest vehicle vanished in a cloud of torn metal and glass. It quickly twisted and tipped as the driver tried to avoid the gunfire. It slid down the left tunnel on its left-hand side, its wheels still spinning wildly before coming to a grinding halt. The others managed to swerve to avoid the wreck and hurtled even closer before being stuck by more explosive rounds. In less than thirty seconds, the tunnel started to fill with noxious smoke fumes from the vehicles. Sergeant Stone walked along the line; upright and ignoring the stray rounds coming in from the approaching Animosh.

“Not bad, marines, not bad at...”

He flipped out his sidearm like a handgun from the old West and gunned down two Helions that rushed out from the smoke. They both fell face down to the ground. What shocked the marines nearest the killing more was that these were not Animosh, they were unarmored Helions carrying rifles.

“Who the hell are they?” Wictred shouted.

“Command thought as much. Justitium Lyssk must be getting desperate. He’s drafting in militia from the Irkerk, Yuulen, and the Sh'Dori. They have numbers, that is all.”

“Sergeant!” called Private Jana Jenkell, the unit’s medic.

The marines turned their attention to the smoke just as the first wave burst out. Jack’s first view of them was of two combat drones and nearly fifty Helion militia. They looked hysterical as they ran with their guns firing. He took aim, but the advancing machines took all of his attention.

“Keep up your fire!” continued Sergeant Stone. He waited calmly and took aim with his pistol. Jack flicked the switch and proceeded to strafe the line with automatic gunfire. Puffs of blood marked those he hit, and countless figures fell to the ground. More and more continued forward, and even when the Ram gun turrets fired, they kept moving along. Two marines jumped up and ran back from the frontline, only to be hit in the back by thermal weapons.

“Animosh!” Wictred hissed.

Behind the civilians came a tide of the cloaked warriors. They seemed as keen to shoot their own militia as they were shooting at the marines. They used as much cover as they could find but refused to throw themselves onto the guns of the marines. Sergeant Stone ducked to the side as one tried to hit with accurate rifle fire.

“Animals, they’re driving the civilians along like cattle.”

Sergeant Stone’s face turned when he realized what was happening. He spoke into his intercom over the platoon channel.

“Lieutenant, we have diversionary troops pouring in down here. Their main force is somewhere else.”

Another marine was hit, and then an explosive charge tore a hole in the first barricade. Two combat drones pushed into the gap, blasting away at the marines a few meters away. Privates Sanford and Giblin were cut down; the others either fell back to the second line or tried to hold off the machines.

“This isn’t right!” muttered the Sergeant.

He moved backward, firing his pistols as he went. He checked once more with the rest of the marine commanders as he moved.

No reply from the Lt.

“Marines, fall back!” he shouted.

The battered platoon moved back with only three marines and Wictred remaining to fight off the machines. Helion civilians quickly leapt over the broken defenses, only to be shot down by those waiting on the second. Jack was already moving back from the machines. He wanted to stay but thoughts of the things ripping his friends apart sent panic through his limbs. He took aim, but one of the marines jumped in front and was crushed as a third machine climbed through. They were not like the Biomechs’ weapons of war. They were slower and more like mobile weapon emplacements. Even so, they were strong and able to deliver substantial gunfire.

“Jack, help me!” shouted Wictred.

Any doubts Jack might have had were discarded at the plea for help from his friend. He grabbed a grenade from the thigh mount and hurled it to the wall. As soon as it made contacted, it flashed white hot, instantly killing the three nearest. He moved his bodyweight forward, aiming his carbine at the horde of enemy pouring over their line. The L52 was a wicked weapon at this range, and he cleared the defenses so that Wictred and the others could break for cover. Even Wictred was forced to withdraw as the Animosh moved up and sheltered behind the broken defenses. More gunfire ripped into the tunnel, and the machines were finally knocked out. The surviving civilians scattered all directions, but the shapes of a hundred Animosh filled the cover behind the first defense line.

“What now, Sergeant?” Wictred asked from behind the next piece of cover.

Seven marines lay dead in front of them, and smoke had reduced visibility to less than fifty meters.

“Marines, fix bayonets!” growled the Sergeant.

There were no questions. Each did their work silently, and only then did Jack notice their lack of sound. They had beaten off the first wave, yet so many of the enemy remained a short distance away. A handful of grenades moved back and forth between both sides, which confirmed to Sergeant Stone that something had to change.

“I want that barricade retaken, are you with me?”

The marines in the second line shouted out enthusiastically.

“Then follow me!”

The Sergeant was over the wall well before the others. Jack was sure he saw at least two rounds strike him, but on he went. Wictred was next, and then he found himself over the top and running back to the position they had recently abandoned. They surged past the wrecked machines and leapt over the outer wall to find themselves in amongst the Animosh. Whereas before the battle had been one of ranged firearms, now it turned into a bloodthirsty melee, with rifle butts and bayonets doing the hard work.

“This is insanity!” Jack said, but nobody heard him.

Wictred swung his fists and crushed anybody within reach. The Animosh desperately tried to fight them off. Jack stabbed the first Helion he saw, and then stumbled and landed on his back. He tried to move, but two more enemies stepped up to him, both aiming rifles. A great blast of air rushed overhead, and the two Helions vanished, to be replaced by the shapes of fresh marines. They surged past and two stopped to help him up.

“Who, what?” he said, confused.

“8
th
Marine Battalion. Looks like we got here just in time,” laughed the first.

More of the marines rushed past, chasing down the retreating enemy forces. Jack glanced back and saw Stone leaning against Wictred, who was sitting down on the broken first barricade.

“Not bad, son,” he said with his eyes squarely on Jack’s face, “I said you had it in you.”

He coughed and then lifted himself back to his feet.

“Okay, marines. Reload and get ready for the next wave. There are plenty more coming this way!”

Jack lifted his carbine, checked the clip, and then rested it on the broken defenses. Riku, Frewyn, and Jenkell all moved around him and did the same. Private Riku was the nearest, and she flashed him a smile that did more to show her facial scar than she might have wanted to. Even so, it filled Jack with a feeling of camaraderie that he really needed.

“You guys okay?”

“You kidding?” replied Private Riku, “I’ve been itching for some action for a while.”

Jack was sure he could see a glint in her eye as she said it. He wondered if it was a clumsy attempt at a pass, and it distracted him for several seconds. He looked at her face, and although her scar was always noticeable, he couldn’t hide the fact she was probably the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She spotted him looking and grinned.

“What? You like what you see?”

For what must have been the first time ever, Jack didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Private Riku nodded in the direction of the bodies and wrecked vehicles.

“Here they come. You ready?”

Jack took aim down his carbine and placed the reticule over the chest of a running Animosh fighter. He squeezed the trigger within a second of the rest of the platoon.

I am now.

* * *

Admiral Lewis paced the CIC of his flagship while he waited for the distance to close between the two fleets. Already his own forces were well within range of the approaching craft, yet so far not a single shot had been fired, and he was loath to be the first one to do so.

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