Chapter 7
Earth Force Defensive Perimeter
New Haiti
The following day
As predicted the fires burned through the night casting the landscape in a dull red and orange glow. Few men managed to sleep, even the ones off duty spent their time resting up or watching the flames. It was a hellish moment, a glimpse of the unrestricted warfare Earth was capable of if it had the chance. If they were lucky it would terrify the enemy, break their morale and rob them of their will to fight, removing the need for the coming battle. It was a nice thought, but few really believed it.
For Garibaldi it was a reflection of the Minbari attacks on the New Berlin colony, the obliteration of the capital that had refused to surrender without a fight. The civilians had left, the Minbari allowing them to do so in some quirk of doctrine, but anyone who stayed and fought had been erased to the last man. Garibaldi had been heading their to reinforce them, a few hours earlier and he'd have been in the city when it was struck. It was a lucky escape, but he didn't feel grateful for it, just haunted by how fickle fate had been.
He would fight when dawn arrived, do his duty for Earth, but it all felt hollow. He appreciated it was for a good cause, one that was morally right, but it didn't mean much to him anymore. Even if the enemy deserved death and destruction he still ended up covered in someone else's blood.
The inferno burned itself out in the small hours, some passing showers of rain hastening the process and making the ground even more muddy. It was a miserable start to the day and it was certainly going to get worse. Some parts of the local jungle still burned pumping black smoke into the heavy sky, the clouds leaden and grey with the promise of more rain. General Fraser had wanted a tangled morass for the enemy to advance through and the navy had provided it, now they just waited for their guests.
As the light increased, reserve troops moved forward, a platoon of tanks taking up position on the flank of Garibaldi's position. They nudged into pre-prepared earthworks dug out by the engineers the previous day and settled into a hull down position, only their flat gun turrets exposed over the hasty fortifications. A brief breakfast of insta-heat rations served to fortify the defenders and shrug off some of the filthy weather, green clad soldiers taking up their forward positions and doing a last round of weapons checks. They made themselves busy, checked their gear, joked, talked about nothing, anything to keep them from dwelling on what was to come.
Most of them were barely out of training, the few experienced men in the company doing their best to share their knowledge and wisdom. There was little they could do about fear, everyone felt it, even the old hands, all they could do was show the fresh recruits how to push through, do their jobs and stay alive.
"Remember to check the auto turrets, humidity screws the wiring if you don't keep them clean." Garibaldi assigned tasks. "You let mud get in the traverse mechanism and it could get us all killed. If you think you've checked it, check it again."
He glanced up as an engine whirred overhead, one of the recon drones from the command post substituting for real eyes in the sky. The cloud cover had blocked most of the navy sensors leaving the army to rely on its means. If things went badly south the navy could still drop missiles guided by ground based observers but it would be risky, to all intents and purposes the army was on its own.
"Tip out that water from your foxholes too." Garibaldi returned to keeping his platoon busy. "Yeah, complain now, but you'll thank me if you have to spend the next eight hours sitting in one."
The nearby tank crews were also getting some food, pacing around their vehicles for the tenth time, and would probably do it another ten times. The feeling was palpable, the heaviness in the air more than the tropical humidity. The Pirates weren't going to back off, every instinct Garibaldi had told him hell was on the way. He would make sure they were ready to meet it.
"Eyes on, General, enemy formation identified, fifty miles out." General Fraser peered over the technician's shoulder looking at a video feed from the recon drone. The cramped command vehicle didn't offer much room for a full Brigade's worth of staff making movement to and fro a bit of a squeeze.
"Swing left a little." Fraser drunk down some vile gunpowder tea. "Just there, robots." He tapped the screen. "Intel was right."
He took some time to watch the machines walking slowly and awkwardly alongside the rest of the Pirate force. They'd managed to drum up quite a few thousand people, an irregular force but apparently carrying plenty of guns. The drone continued investigating, picking out some small armored vehicles and dozens of armed trucks and repurposed farm machines. None of those concerned him, and the loose waves of slowly advancing infantry wasn't much concern either. What bothered him was the robots, out of place as they looked he could see even from high above they carried plenty of guns.
"Game's on then." He drained the cup with a wince and set it on top of the console. "Keep a watch on them, I'll need you to spot for the guns."
"Yes sir."
"Mitch?" He singled out the commander of his artillery detachment. "You're on, doesn't look like they've brought any artillery with them. Demonstrate why that was a mistake."
A series of orders were relayed, short sharp commands running up and down the chain of officers, coordinates and ranges provided by the drone, firing plots from the gunners, ammunition types and firing patterns from the gun captains. It was swift and flawless, Fraser was no gunner but he certainly appreciated the way it all flowed down to one inevitable result.
A full company of Loki artillery cannons raised their guns skyward, 165mm shells selected and slammed into the breaches by autoloaders. The gun commanders programmed in a few last variables to account for humidity and gravity, then closed the triggers and braced for the noise.
The day began in earnest with the crack of the heavy guns, the sudden noise waking up anyone who wasn't already prepared for the day. It filled the front lines with renewed haste, told them that things were about to get very real.
"First salvo on the way. impact in twenty seconds."
"Very good." Fraser kept his eyes nailed to the drone feed, the video sharp but still seeing jolts and static from the weather conditions. He and the rest waited until finally the first shells landed splattering into the mud and then sitting there for a second, just long enough for the nearest troops to register their arrival before detonating in a fountain of mud and metal shards.
"Get another salvo of delayed action shells on the way, then switch to air burst for the rockets."
They had known from the start they were not up against professionals, sure the pirates might be killers, they could probably use their weapons well enough, but they were not an army trained to fight other armies. Fraser wagered the bulk had never been under artillery fire before and probably only knew to throw themselves flat when the shells landed. That wasn't a bad instinct, but it also wasn't going to save them. If they had sought better cover, hidden behind the robots, scattered from their casual knots of gangmates, tried to use the cover of the fallen trees and shattered jungle it might have helped a little more, but probably not, not with the destruction Fraser was about to rain down on them.
The guns fired again, but this time were joined by a platoon of Frey mobile rocket batteries. Instead of firing a single shot at a time the rocket batteries fired dozens of missiles each, with each of this particular salvo of weapons containing hundreds of small explosive devices that would be scattered across the target zone. The plan was simple, as the artillery shells hit the enemy, having now seen what happened with the first shots would throw themselves flat just in time for the rockets to whoosh overhead and release their own weapons.
The result was of course immediate and devastating, the submunitions sprinkling high explosives and shrapnel among the stationary pirates, the vast majority of them caught in the open. It was a very short, very sharp lesson delivered by professionals to amateurs.
"Good target saturation, I'm seeing a lot of irregulars breaking and running."
"Nice." Fraser poured himself more tea. "Vehicles?"
"A lot of the technicals were hit, their robots and light tanks shrugged it off."
"That would be too easy." He had hoped more panic would spread but fair enough. "Switch rocket batteries to anti armor cluster warheads Mitch, and have the guns swap to airburst, strip away the rest of their infantry support."
The mobile cannons began a steady barrage, the rate of fire slow and steady as gun crews hauled new shells from their resupply vehicles and into the auto loaders. It was heavy work even with the help of cranes and loading chutes, the humidity not helping. Most crews were already down to their shirts but they kept the rate of fire steady, well aware that lives depended on their efficiency.
"They're getting hammered." Private Marlow listened to the muzzle retorts from the cannons accompanied half a minute later by distant thumps of explosions and tiny puffs of smoke. "Those are airburst right Sarge?"
"Yeah, they've probably caught infantry in the open." He gritted his teeth, any veteran knew what that meant, there was little more helpless and merciless for an infantryman, and nothing more relished by gunners. "They're dead men."
"So we're going home then?"
"Not unless they get the war robots too." Garibaldi shook his head. "How are the missiles?"
"Loaded up and clean." He nodded to the automated launcher, a thick cable leading to the platoon command trench where the control unit resided. "They'll fire if we need them Sarge, guaranteed."
"Hopefully our new buddies over there will handle it." Garibaldi thumbed over his shoulder at the neighboring tank platoon. "But no harm in helping out. Get back to your pit, anyone who survives that barrage gets a plasma bolt from us as their reward."
"Got it Sarge." The young Private skittered away through the mud leaving Garibaldi to his own thoughts again. Overhead the rocket batteries loosed their second salvo, dozens of contrails like towers of smoke arching across the sky. He pitied those on the other end, but they had made their choice when they threw in with pirates and slavers. He once again checked the charge on his rifle and made busy waiting.
"Minimal effect on anti armor munitions." The drone operator watched. "Looks like we got most of the light vehicles, those not burning are getting bogged down in the mess."
"Guess the navy really are good for something." Fraser allowed, but the hail of explosives had done very little to the war robots. "Mitch, we have anything bigger?"
"Not for anti tank work, not unless they cross the ridge then I've got a few shaped charged rounds for the big guns."
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that, but make sure you have those rounds ready to drop if it does."
"Yes sir."
"Sir, the robots are picking up speed."
Fraser peered down at the screen, the war machines starting to pick up their pace. That was not unexpected but slightly annoying.
"They're abandoning their infantry and vehicle support, coming in solo. Confident bastards aren't they?" Fraser grunted a chuckle. "Alright Lenny, time for your tanks. Alpha company on the ridge, Bravo company flanking position, Charlie company active reserve."
"On it sir."
"Katie, gunships too, you're up!"
"Aye sir, air support coming!"
"Better hold fire now Mitch, don't want you smacking our own aircraft." Fraser called off the artillery. "Open up again once they run."
The strategy shuffled to respond to the new threat, the brigade demonstrating its flexibility swapping to a focus on armor. The tanks already dug in on the ridge facing the advance were reinforced, another dozen vehicles climbing the back of the ridge with a loud whine of engines and ear piercing squeal of wheels and tracks. As they took up static positing a second company of thirty six vehicles rolled up on their left side just behind the ridge as close support, with a third unit assembling at the center of the crater Earth Force was deployed in.
The crews were confident, the standard issue Thor tanks had proven surprisingly effective against the Minbari, the simple chemically propelled 135mm rounds easily punching through all but the biggest Minbari vehicles. They could hit hard, were small and low to the ground targets making them hard to hit, and sported strong composite armor protection. On top of that they also had an excellent defensive position with clear site lines and prepared earthworks. It was setting itself up to be a turkey shoot.
"Enemy should be in visual range soon." The drone operator calculated.
"Notify the forward positions." Fraser ordered, getting extremely serious as the main event approached. "Weapons free, engage whenever they have a good shot."
The arrival of the mechs was like an ancient assortment of monsters walking out of myth, the blackened and snapped trees littering their path, their still smoldering remains providing a skein of pale grey smoke the machines gradually resolved from. The largest one became visible first, standing tall amid the smoke joined moments later by its three companions. Three were humanoid, the other a bipedal cockpit on bird like legs, with the largest vehicle festooned with weaponry. They were made by human hands but utterly alien to the Earth forces facing them, nobody knew quite what to make of them, but their approach was suitably intimidating.
"According to our data the big one is called a Thunderbolt, well armed with lasers and missiles." Fraser listed for his staff. "That one's a hunchback on account of the giant stubby cannon on its shoulder. This is a Stinger, small but fast, and the kiwi looking thing is a Jenner. Again, small but fast."
"Any idea how fast sir?"
"No, and the ground will slow them down, but make sure the tank crews are aware so they don't get spooked if those things start running."
"Alpha Company reports enemy forces are in range, they are opening fire."
Out on the ridge the first line of tanks made their move, firing from stable positions they had good accuracy even at long range, several shots finding their mark while the rest went wide. The largest mech took most of the hits, staggering a little as the sabot rounds struck its armor and mostly shattered or cartwheeled away with a clank and warble of air.
"Registering hits, but I'm not seeing a lot of damage."
"Continue firing, range is still long." Fraser stated factually, his bluntness keeping the staff focused, but inside his heart was accelerating. Seeing the high velocity shots bounce off such a massive target was not a hopeful sight. "Gunships?"
"A few minutes out."
"Mitch?" He glanced at his artillery chief. "Tell your guns to load those anti tank shells."
The tanks of Alpha company fired again, the mechs speeding up, breaking into a run now they knew they were in range. Most shots missed as the targeting computers adjusted, having trouble dealing with the undulating motion of a mech stomping at speed toward them. The system defaulted to its most logical option, aiming for the center of mass, which was also of course the most heavily protected part of the target.
The mechs split, the smaller lighter machines flanking left and right accelerating away from their big brothers while the two bulky front liners barreled onwards soaking up hits from the tank guns. The impacts were arriving more often now the range decreased and the sabot rounds were delivering more energy, cracking the face of some armor pieces on the big mechs, but they were still apparently having less of an effect than hoped. The relatively thin darts were designed to spear vehicles of a similar size to the Thor, compact AFVs where the main philosophy was to cram as much vital gear into the tiniest possible space. In such circumstances a single solid hit was going to core through multiple vital components, and crew, killing most targets with one good penetration. But a battlemech was different, it was a far bigger machine with far greater volume and redundancy, the 40mm wide darts that did penetrate often did little more than clip some myomer or knock out a redundant system and leave a neat little hole in the plating.
"Those big bastards can move!" Marlowe poked his head above the parapet of his trench prompting Garibaldi to grab him and drag him back down.
"Stay low you moron!" The Sergeant snapped. "If those tanks pull back we're going to go with them, spread the word and get ready to pull back to the second line."
"Right, got it Sarge."
"And stay low!"
The tanks twenty yards away snapped their guns again, the impressively loud and violent weapons having a lot less effect than anyone had expected. They kept up a solid rate of fire, the guns notably lowering their elevation as an ominous sign the enemy were getting much closer. The lighter mechs moved into range first, finally replying to the hail of gunfire with a cluster of missiles that rushed upward and then angled down at the unprotected upper surfaces of the tanks.
Fraser was ready for it. He had positioned several Uller type Air Defense vehicles in key locations to watch the skies, their quad lasers and pinpoint accuracy utterly lethal to any low flying aircraft. They also served admirably as an anti-missile system, the red beams intercepting the inbound rockets in a dazzling display of precision.
The pirates either didn't notice or didn't care, the mechs pounding on into their energy weapons range, the Stinger cutting a laser beam across the summit of the ridge melting the ground where it touched. It was getting dangerously close, but that worked both ways.
The closest tank took a little extra time to aim, the gunner adjusting manually, tracking the motion, leading the target, waiting to catch the humanoid machine on the bounce. He timed his shot superbly, the 135mm round decapitating the mech in a perfect clean hit.
"One down!" The Drone operator called out.
"At least we know we can hurt them." Fraser approved. "Gunships Kate?"
"One minute out, they're burning hard but we didn't expect these robots to sprint."
"Just get them here and putting missiles on targets."
The other light mech, the Jenner, quickly adjusted course, digging its metal feet into the mud and skidding, the pilot expertly keeping the machine mostly vertical. Three tank rounds whizzed past, one with just inches to spare as he kicked off and picked up speed again running to flank the Earth Force gun line.
"That fast one's getting closer!" Private Daniels yelled a warning, his words accompanied by the tank turrets swinging further and further to the side until they were virtually firing over the heads of Garibaldi's platoon.
"Get flat and cover your ears!" He yelled as he dropped himself immediately as a twenty foot long gout of flame erupted overhead followed by the crack of a departing projectile. Even with his hands planted firmly over his ears the noise was temporarily deafening, not helped by a second shot three seconds later, and then a third. He was braced for a fourth but it never came, instead the whole world was bathed in neon green and became scorching hot.
A laser of some type speared the relatively weak side of the tank ignoring the built up earthworks, melting through the armor and flash frying the interior. The high explosive rounds detonated obliterating the vehicle, Garibaldi watching the turret spinning up and over his head to land somewhere down the ridge. The guns didn't use gunpowders as their older ancestors did, instead using inert binary liquids which needed to be mixed to combust as a safety feature. In this case though the damage was so intense the two liquid tanks burst spraying their contents into the air, when droplets hit each other they crackled in thousands of tiny explosions like fireworks.
Garibaldi felt like he'd been fried on a hot plate, the air itself was unbearably hot between the lasers and the nearby inferno of the wrecked tank. He was deaf, scorched, half blinded by the laser light but he could still feel the world around him tearing itself apart. The concussion of cannons firing shells just feet above his head, a second sweeping green laser beam, another sparkling crackle of BilPro storage dancing overhead in a macabrely beautiful sight.
He dragged himself up, blinking to banish the afterimages that ruled most of his vision, working his jaw to get some hearing back. He could make out the remaining two tanks in this platoon lurching backwards out of their positions, their line clearly flanked. They still fired but the Jenner was dodging hard and it this range the gun turrets weren't traversing quickly enough. A third tank took a hit, not fatal but enough to sheer off a track and dump it on its side, the fourth tank throwing up a fountain of mud as the driver panicked and gunned the engine too hard trying to escape.
"Fall back!" Garibaldi yelled, his own voice quiet over the ringing in his ears but hopefully loud enough for his platoon to hear. "Get back! Move now!"
The ground was shaking rhythmically as the mech altered course again, this time charging for the final tank as it struggled to get moving. Its course took it directly along the ridge, right over the position being held by Garibaldi's men. He had no idea if their trenches and foxholes would stand up to the passage of the machine, if his friends were about to be crushed into this worthless ground, if he was about to go to his own grave a failure.
Like hell he was.
The machine was almost on them, the tank still putting rounds over his head causing the mech to weave, to keep outpacing the frantically swinging gun turret. It was utterly focused on the Thor tank dodging its fire and trying to line up a kill shot of its own, the pilot completely ignoring the infantry that scattered and ran from the fast approaching enemy. All but for Michael Garibaldi.
He was furious, rageful, in that instant a lifetime of anger injected the fuel he needed to act into his veins. The constant retreats from the Minbari, the lost friends, the lost colonies, the fires of destroyed warships, the despair and the courage which had all counted for nothing. All he had seen as a soldier was the unfairness of war, the losses, the death and defeat and he had been powerless to stop it. Now though, here and now, he could stop it. He was not powerless, all he needed was the strength to seize the moment.
Garibaldi ran, but not down the ridge with the others, he instead threw himself into the command trench, into the path of the running machine by now just a few strides away, just a couple of seconds from running over him. He knew exactly what to do, what his target was, the sturdy portable command console for the six anti tank missiles guarding this part of the line. He had no idea if they would work, if they were powerful enough, but he was damn sure this chicken looking bastard wasn't going to have it all his own way today.
Garibaldi skidded to a stop in front of the console, gunfire thumping, the ground bouncing, he grabbed that console, swung the missiles around and up until the screen showed nothing but the metal belly of the mech by now almost immediately overhead, and he hit the fire button.
The trench was flooded with acrid smoke as all six missiles ripple fired straight up as the mech thundered overhead, the weapons unguided having had no time to achieve lock but at this proximity it didn't matter. Two missed by a small margin vanishing into the sky before running out of fuel and self destructing, but four struck home hitting the vulnerable motive elements of the belly with one striking the main hip joint severing the left leg in a shower of white smoke and burning metal.
That missile in particular sealed the Jenner's fate, the machine was already at full sprint and had no hope of stopping, the right leg propelled it forward, artificial muscles radiating heat Garibaldi could feel, but there was no left leg to continue the stride. The Jenner smashed itself into the ground face first, the cockpit shattering as several tons of machine pushed it into the ground. Momentum then took over, the high speed impact flipping the ruined main body end over end several times in squeals of splitting metal and showers of lofted mud. It came to rest at the bottom of the ridge an unrecognizable pile of tangled junk.
"You got him!"
Garibaldi snapped around to see Marlow looking in awe at the smoking pile of junk, the Sergeant's fury subsiding as his senses began to return.
"Yeah, one down."
"In the ground." The Private peered over. "Think he survived that?"
"Hell no, that son of a bitch is going home in a bucket." Garibaldi turned away, every muscle still infused with energy and a need to act. "Get me some reloads."
"Some what?"
"Reloads, for the missile turret." Garibaldi moved back into being a platoon Sergeant. "We might need it again, go."
"Right, got it Sarge."
He tapped the communication set in his helmet, steadying his breathing so he sounded like he was in complete control of the situation. "Lieutenant, front line is clear sir, suggest we re-establish defenses up here. It's still the best position."
"Understood." The reply came. "Did you just take out that robot Sergeant?"
"Yes sir, I don't see any others but there could be infantry following up. We should be prepared to meet them."
"You're right Sergeant, let's rally the men and be ready. Not much we can do about the other robots."
"Yes sir."
The robot was down, but it had taken three tanks with it leaving them just a lone vehicle as support, the mud splattered Thor tank holding still while the crew gathered their wits and thanked several assorted deities that they were still breathing. They still owned the flank, but at a cost, and this was just a small one.
The intense rumbles and cracks of gunfire told him all he needed to know about how the bigger robots were faring.
"Hostiles are a few hundred meters out and still advancing at speed." The picture on the screen was clear, the broad set combat robots heavily scarred but still operational. The lead one had lost its shoulder mounted missile launchers and seemed to have lost the use of an arm, but it had done little else to reduce its potency. The ridgeline had done its job sheltering the tanks, only one had been lost to long range fire, but with the enemy almost among them that would change.
"We can't hold the center, get Alpha company off that ridge." Fraser ordered. "Bravo company move forward, catch them on the flanks and establish a crossfire."
The frontline tanks throttled up and began to back out of their emplacements, half of them popping smoke to cover their retreat. It was a well executed maneuver but hadn't counted on the type of enemy they were up against.
As soon as the two pirates saw their enemy giving ground they charged, both mechs had been fitted with jump jets, more as an extravagance given the weight of the Hunchback and Thunderbolt, but they gave both pilots enough of a boost to instantly clear the outer slope of the ridge and drop down with a deafening crash on the summit before the tanks had much chance to move. The Thunderbolt landed heavy, its knees bending but holding, a pair of surprised tanks in front of it unable to react fast enough to take a point blank shot before they were cored by lasers. The hunchback did one better, dropping on top of one vehicle sending its multiple wheels flying off in all directions and burying the hull in the mud.
"Enemy on the ridge General, Alpha company still withdrawing."
"Get them back down fast." Fraser gritted his teeth, these robots were far more agile than anything so huge had a right to be, in among his tanks they were going to be hell to deal with. "Mitch, get some smoke up there!"
A few seconds later several Loki guns fired airburst smoke rounds at the ridge to screen the tanks but by that point it was too late, the mechs were far faster than the Thor tanks and easily out paced them firing as many shots as they could into the tops and flanks of the vehicles. Several more tanks were lost as they reversed down the ridge, most to laser fire but a couple to the terrain itself.
The rout was averted by the arrival of Bravo company heading down from a different part of the ridge, the second unit of tanks firing as they advanced, engines shrieking as the crews rode in to rescue their brethren.
"Lenny! Get Charlie Company in there now, get all the reserves up forward!" Fraser waved in the direction of the rapidly approaching enemy. "Get the experimental in too! Everything, on this line, right here!"
The two pirates reacted to the threat splitting up, the hunchback angling to intercept Bravo Company while the leader in his thunderbolt continued to drive Alpha Company toward the command post, the set of tents and vehicles an obvious target. The gunfire was starting to tell, both mechs were slowing down, the steady accumulation of damage and heat affecting performance, but the Thor tanks just weren't hitting hard enough or fast enough to overcome the mechs in time.
Bravo Company divided by platoon and engaged at speed, the soft ground not helping much, hoping mobility would grant them an advantage. The mech though remained faster, running down a tank that passed too close and kicking it out of control, then pivoting to obliterate a second with its autocannon.
Alpha Company was still bearing the brunt, its numbers almost depleted as they weaved and dodged the thunderbolt, salvation arriving just in time as the reserves advanced behind a hail of fast moving metal darts drawing the pirate's attention. By this point Fraser didn't need the drone to tell him where the enemy was, he just opened the door of the command vehicle and looked outside, the massive ugly black and white machine side stepping a sabot round that whistled past before shrugging off two more that hit, stripping off a chunk and crumbling armor.
The mech retaliated with lasers, one of the reinforcement tanks erupting in fire this time as it shifted focus, backing up until it was almost on top of the command vehicle, deafening blasts from the tanks and the passing of cannon shots rocking the vehicle on its wheels.
"To hell with this!"
Fraser jumped down from the vehicle, his presence there not required at this moment, and ran for a parked jeep nearby. The shadow of the machine was right over him though the pilot was too busy with tanks to go for soft targets yet. The General cracked open a storage compartment on the back of the vehicle and pulled out a shoulder launched rocket, lining up the anti tank missile and firing it in a blast of rocket smoke at the mech. It hit in a satisfying explosion but achieved little, prompting the General to turn angrily back to the vehicle and look for another.
"Anyone have any more missiles?"
His plea was answered by the roar of a dozen incoming rockets streaking across the sky and pummeling the Thunderbolt, the machine staggering as it absorbed the full weight of the impacts. Overhead at last the Valkyries arrived, VTOL gunships rushing past and swinging around, pilots killing as much speed as they could manage to orbit the battlefield.
"About damn time you lazy bastards!" Fraser shouted up at the aircraft with a laugh. "Go murder them!"
The gunships threw a new variable into the mix, their jets angling to swing around and face the targets, four on either mech. The initial salvo had hit hard but it still wasn't enough to stop the thunderbolt, the pirate vehicle smoking and pitted but still very much in the fight. It swung around and backed off raising a laser equipped arm to fire on the newly arrived aircraft, the VTOLs having gone into the hover to give their targeting computers time to deliver a massed precision strike.
It was a fatal mistake, the laser cutting down two VTOLs before the other two took evasive action punching out chaff and flares to confuse the thunderbolts targeting system. Shaken but undeterred the two survivors circled back and loosed more rockets and missiles, abandoning the complex targeting computers and firing by eye. They supplemented the attacks with pulse cannons, blue energy splashing against the enemy machine adding to its woes.
In that instant the calculus changed, with the gunships distracting the thunderbolt its pilot failed to notice six fresh tanks rolling into position, disregarding them as more annoying bugs to stomp. The lack of concern cost him his life, the six vehicles opening fire and immediately crippling the mech, blasting off an arm and shooting out a knee causing the mighty robot to finally drop to the mud.
The Thor tanks had proven insufficient for the task, as they had when facing the massive Minbari assault tanks. To counter them Earth had rapidly developed a new vehicle, the Odin battle tank, which had replaced the 135mm BilPro cannon of the Thor with a tremendously potent 105mm gauss cannon. Only six prototypes had so far been built, and Fraser had brought them all.
The gauss cannons hit hard, the tungsten cored sabots piercing the already cracked and weakened mech armor like tissue shattering interior components through sheer brute force and finally ending the rampage of the pirate commander. The thunderbolt fell forward, struggling in the mud to right itself. A scorched Thor tank trundled up, one of the few survivors of Alpha Company, and at six feet of range put a shot through the cockpit.
The hunchback lasted a little longer on the flank but its fate was also sealed, it halted for a moment to aim its massive shoulder mounted autocannon letting an extremely aggressive VTOL pilot rush in from the flank and cut in front of the mech spraying pulse fire into the muzzle of the heavy autocannon. The bolts detonated the heavy shell while it was still in the breach, which then set off the ammo storage. In an instant the Hunchback ceased to exist, two thirds of its torso vanished into shards while the rest was thrown into the mud.
The VTOL wobbled as it was peppered by debris, the pilot expertly dropping it belly down into the mud and ejecting, the last tally for the pirate assault. Fraser watched the pilot swinging under the parachute, the black columns of smoke from his burning vehicles and the shot through metal corpses of the battlemechs. They had the day and had the planet, but nobody had expected their enemies to be this resilient. Things were going to have to change and fast.
New Haiti
The following day
As predicted the fires burned through the night casting the landscape in a dull red and orange glow. Few men managed to sleep, even the ones off duty spent their time resting up or watching the flames. It was a hellish moment, a glimpse of the unrestricted warfare Earth was capable of if it had the chance. If they were lucky it would terrify the enemy, break their morale and rob them of their will to fight, removing the need for the coming battle. It was a nice thought, but few really believed it.
For Garibaldi it was a reflection of the Minbari attacks on the New Berlin colony, the obliteration of the capital that had refused to surrender without a fight. The civilians had left, the Minbari allowing them to do so in some quirk of doctrine, but anyone who stayed and fought had been erased to the last man. Garibaldi had been heading their to reinforce them, a few hours earlier and he'd have been in the city when it was struck. It was a lucky escape, but he didn't feel grateful for it, just haunted by how fickle fate had been.
He would fight when dawn arrived, do his duty for Earth, but it all felt hollow. He appreciated it was for a good cause, one that was morally right, but it didn't mean much to him anymore. Even if the enemy deserved death and destruction he still ended up covered in someone else's blood.
The inferno burned itself out in the small hours, some passing showers of rain hastening the process and making the ground even more muddy. It was a miserable start to the day and it was certainly going to get worse. Some parts of the local jungle still burned pumping black smoke into the heavy sky, the clouds leaden and grey with the promise of more rain. General Fraser had wanted a tangled morass for the enemy to advance through and the navy had provided it, now they just waited for their guests.
As the light increased, reserve troops moved forward, a platoon of tanks taking up position on the flank of Garibaldi's position. They nudged into pre-prepared earthworks dug out by the engineers the previous day and settled into a hull down position, only their flat gun turrets exposed over the hasty fortifications. A brief breakfast of insta-heat rations served to fortify the defenders and shrug off some of the filthy weather, green clad soldiers taking up their forward positions and doing a last round of weapons checks. They made themselves busy, checked their gear, joked, talked about nothing, anything to keep them from dwelling on what was to come.
Most of them were barely out of training, the few experienced men in the company doing their best to share their knowledge and wisdom. There was little they could do about fear, everyone felt it, even the old hands, all they could do was show the fresh recruits how to push through, do their jobs and stay alive.
"Remember to check the auto turrets, humidity screws the wiring if you don't keep them clean." Garibaldi assigned tasks. "You let mud get in the traverse mechanism and it could get us all killed. If you think you've checked it, check it again."
He glanced up as an engine whirred overhead, one of the recon drones from the command post substituting for real eyes in the sky. The cloud cover had blocked most of the navy sensors leaving the army to rely on its means. If things went badly south the navy could still drop missiles guided by ground based observers but it would be risky, to all intents and purposes the army was on its own.
"Tip out that water from your foxholes too." Garibaldi returned to keeping his platoon busy. "Yeah, complain now, but you'll thank me if you have to spend the next eight hours sitting in one."
The nearby tank crews were also getting some food, pacing around their vehicles for the tenth time, and would probably do it another ten times. The feeling was palpable, the heaviness in the air more than the tropical humidity. The Pirates weren't going to back off, every instinct Garibaldi had told him hell was on the way. He would make sure they were ready to meet it.
"Eyes on, General, enemy formation identified, fifty miles out." General Fraser peered over the technician's shoulder looking at a video feed from the recon drone. The cramped command vehicle didn't offer much room for a full Brigade's worth of staff making movement to and fro a bit of a squeeze.
"Swing left a little." Fraser drunk down some vile gunpowder tea. "Just there, robots." He tapped the screen. "Intel was right."
He took some time to watch the machines walking slowly and awkwardly alongside the rest of the Pirate force. They'd managed to drum up quite a few thousand people, an irregular force but apparently carrying plenty of guns. The drone continued investigating, picking out some small armored vehicles and dozens of armed trucks and repurposed farm machines. None of those concerned him, and the loose waves of slowly advancing infantry wasn't much concern either. What bothered him was the robots, out of place as they looked he could see even from high above they carried plenty of guns.
"Game's on then." He drained the cup with a wince and set it on top of the console. "Keep a watch on them, I'll need you to spot for the guns."
"Yes sir."
"Mitch?" He singled out the commander of his artillery detachment. "You're on, doesn't look like they've brought any artillery with them. Demonstrate why that was a mistake."
A series of orders were relayed, short sharp commands running up and down the chain of officers, coordinates and ranges provided by the drone, firing plots from the gunners, ammunition types and firing patterns from the gun captains. It was swift and flawless, Fraser was no gunner but he certainly appreciated the way it all flowed down to one inevitable result.
A full company of Loki artillery cannons raised their guns skyward, 165mm shells selected and slammed into the breaches by autoloaders. The gun commanders programmed in a few last variables to account for humidity and gravity, then closed the triggers and braced for the noise.
The day began in earnest with the crack of the heavy guns, the sudden noise waking up anyone who wasn't already prepared for the day. It filled the front lines with renewed haste, told them that things were about to get very real.
"First salvo on the way. impact in twenty seconds."
"Very good." Fraser kept his eyes nailed to the drone feed, the video sharp but still seeing jolts and static from the weather conditions. He and the rest waited until finally the first shells landed splattering into the mud and then sitting there for a second, just long enough for the nearest troops to register their arrival before detonating in a fountain of mud and metal shards.
"Get another salvo of delayed action shells on the way, then switch to air burst for the rockets."
They had known from the start they were not up against professionals, sure the pirates might be killers, they could probably use their weapons well enough, but they were not an army trained to fight other armies. Fraser wagered the bulk had never been under artillery fire before and probably only knew to throw themselves flat when the shells landed. That wasn't a bad instinct, but it also wasn't going to save them. If they had sought better cover, hidden behind the robots, scattered from their casual knots of gangmates, tried to use the cover of the fallen trees and shattered jungle it might have helped a little more, but probably not, not with the destruction Fraser was about to rain down on them.
The guns fired again, but this time were joined by a platoon of Frey mobile rocket batteries. Instead of firing a single shot at a time the rocket batteries fired dozens of missiles each, with each of this particular salvo of weapons containing hundreds of small explosive devices that would be scattered across the target zone. The plan was simple, as the artillery shells hit the enemy, having now seen what happened with the first shots would throw themselves flat just in time for the rockets to whoosh overhead and release their own weapons.
The result was of course immediate and devastating, the submunitions sprinkling high explosives and shrapnel among the stationary pirates, the vast majority of them caught in the open. It was a very short, very sharp lesson delivered by professionals to amateurs.
"Good target saturation, I'm seeing a lot of irregulars breaking and running."
"Nice." Fraser poured himself more tea. "Vehicles?"
"A lot of the technicals were hit, their robots and light tanks shrugged it off."
"That would be too easy." He had hoped more panic would spread but fair enough. "Switch rocket batteries to anti armor cluster warheads Mitch, and have the guns swap to airburst, strip away the rest of their infantry support."
The mobile cannons began a steady barrage, the rate of fire slow and steady as gun crews hauled new shells from their resupply vehicles and into the auto loaders. It was heavy work even with the help of cranes and loading chutes, the humidity not helping. Most crews were already down to their shirts but they kept the rate of fire steady, well aware that lives depended on their efficiency.
"They're getting hammered." Private Marlow listened to the muzzle retorts from the cannons accompanied half a minute later by distant thumps of explosions and tiny puffs of smoke. "Those are airburst right Sarge?"
"Yeah, they've probably caught infantry in the open." He gritted his teeth, any veteran knew what that meant, there was little more helpless and merciless for an infantryman, and nothing more relished by gunners. "They're dead men."
"So we're going home then?"
"Not unless they get the war robots too." Garibaldi shook his head. "How are the missiles?"
"Loaded up and clean." He nodded to the automated launcher, a thick cable leading to the platoon command trench where the control unit resided. "They'll fire if we need them Sarge, guaranteed."
"Hopefully our new buddies over there will handle it." Garibaldi thumbed over his shoulder at the neighboring tank platoon. "But no harm in helping out. Get back to your pit, anyone who survives that barrage gets a plasma bolt from us as their reward."
"Got it Sarge." The young Private skittered away through the mud leaving Garibaldi to his own thoughts again. Overhead the rocket batteries loosed their second salvo, dozens of contrails like towers of smoke arching across the sky. He pitied those on the other end, but they had made their choice when they threw in with pirates and slavers. He once again checked the charge on his rifle and made busy waiting.
"Minimal effect on anti armor munitions." The drone operator watched. "Looks like we got most of the light vehicles, those not burning are getting bogged down in the mess."
"Guess the navy really are good for something." Fraser allowed, but the hail of explosives had done very little to the war robots. "Mitch, we have anything bigger?"
"Not for anti tank work, not unless they cross the ridge then I've got a few shaped charged rounds for the big guns."
"Let's hope it doesn't come to that, but make sure you have those rounds ready to drop if it does."
"Yes sir."
"Sir, the robots are picking up speed."
Fraser peered down at the screen, the war machines starting to pick up their pace. That was not unexpected but slightly annoying.
"They're abandoning their infantry and vehicle support, coming in solo. Confident bastards aren't they?" Fraser grunted a chuckle. "Alright Lenny, time for your tanks. Alpha company on the ridge, Bravo company flanking position, Charlie company active reserve."
"On it sir."
"Katie, gunships too, you're up!"
"Aye sir, air support coming!"
"Better hold fire now Mitch, don't want you smacking our own aircraft." Fraser called off the artillery. "Open up again once they run."
The strategy shuffled to respond to the new threat, the brigade demonstrating its flexibility swapping to a focus on armor. The tanks already dug in on the ridge facing the advance were reinforced, another dozen vehicles climbing the back of the ridge with a loud whine of engines and ear piercing squeal of wheels and tracks. As they took up static positing a second company of thirty six vehicles rolled up on their left side just behind the ridge as close support, with a third unit assembling at the center of the crater Earth Force was deployed in.
The crews were confident, the standard issue Thor tanks had proven surprisingly effective against the Minbari, the simple chemically propelled 135mm rounds easily punching through all but the biggest Minbari vehicles. They could hit hard, were small and low to the ground targets making them hard to hit, and sported strong composite armor protection. On top of that they also had an excellent defensive position with clear site lines and prepared earthworks. It was setting itself up to be a turkey shoot.
"Enemy should be in visual range soon." The drone operator calculated.
"Notify the forward positions." Fraser ordered, getting extremely serious as the main event approached. "Weapons free, engage whenever they have a good shot."
The arrival of the mechs was like an ancient assortment of monsters walking out of myth, the blackened and snapped trees littering their path, their still smoldering remains providing a skein of pale grey smoke the machines gradually resolved from. The largest one became visible first, standing tall amid the smoke joined moments later by its three companions. Three were humanoid, the other a bipedal cockpit on bird like legs, with the largest vehicle festooned with weaponry. They were made by human hands but utterly alien to the Earth forces facing them, nobody knew quite what to make of them, but their approach was suitably intimidating.
"According to our data the big one is called a Thunderbolt, well armed with lasers and missiles." Fraser listed for his staff. "That one's a hunchback on account of the giant stubby cannon on its shoulder. This is a Stinger, small but fast, and the kiwi looking thing is a Jenner. Again, small but fast."
"Any idea how fast sir?"
"No, and the ground will slow them down, but make sure the tank crews are aware so they don't get spooked if those things start running."
"Alpha Company reports enemy forces are in range, they are opening fire."
Out on the ridge the first line of tanks made their move, firing from stable positions they had good accuracy even at long range, several shots finding their mark while the rest went wide. The largest mech took most of the hits, staggering a little as the sabot rounds struck its armor and mostly shattered or cartwheeled away with a clank and warble of air.
"Registering hits, but I'm not seeing a lot of damage."
"Continue firing, range is still long." Fraser stated factually, his bluntness keeping the staff focused, but inside his heart was accelerating. Seeing the high velocity shots bounce off such a massive target was not a hopeful sight. "Gunships?"
"A few minutes out."
"Mitch?" He glanced at his artillery chief. "Tell your guns to load those anti tank shells."
The tanks of Alpha company fired again, the mechs speeding up, breaking into a run now they knew they were in range. Most shots missed as the targeting computers adjusted, having trouble dealing with the undulating motion of a mech stomping at speed toward them. The system defaulted to its most logical option, aiming for the center of mass, which was also of course the most heavily protected part of the target.
The mechs split, the smaller lighter machines flanking left and right accelerating away from their big brothers while the two bulky front liners barreled onwards soaking up hits from the tank guns. The impacts were arriving more often now the range decreased and the sabot rounds were delivering more energy, cracking the face of some armor pieces on the big mechs, but they were still apparently having less of an effect than hoped. The relatively thin darts were designed to spear vehicles of a similar size to the Thor, compact AFVs where the main philosophy was to cram as much vital gear into the tiniest possible space. In such circumstances a single solid hit was going to core through multiple vital components, and crew, killing most targets with one good penetration. But a battlemech was different, it was a far bigger machine with far greater volume and redundancy, the 40mm wide darts that did penetrate often did little more than clip some myomer or knock out a redundant system and leave a neat little hole in the plating.
"Those big bastards can move!" Marlowe poked his head above the parapet of his trench prompting Garibaldi to grab him and drag him back down.
"Stay low you moron!" The Sergeant snapped. "If those tanks pull back we're going to go with them, spread the word and get ready to pull back to the second line."
"Right, got it Sarge."
"And stay low!"
The tanks twenty yards away snapped their guns again, the impressively loud and violent weapons having a lot less effect than anyone had expected. They kept up a solid rate of fire, the guns notably lowering their elevation as an ominous sign the enemy were getting much closer. The lighter mechs moved into range first, finally replying to the hail of gunfire with a cluster of missiles that rushed upward and then angled down at the unprotected upper surfaces of the tanks.
Fraser was ready for it. He had positioned several Uller type Air Defense vehicles in key locations to watch the skies, their quad lasers and pinpoint accuracy utterly lethal to any low flying aircraft. They also served admirably as an anti-missile system, the red beams intercepting the inbound rockets in a dazzling display of precision.
The pirates either didn't notice or didn't care, the mechs pounding on into their energy weapons range, the Stinger cutting a laser beam across the summit of the ridge melting the ground where it touched. It was getting dangerously close, but that worked both ways.
The closest tank took a little extra time to aim, the gunner adjusting manually, tracking the motion, leading the target, waiting to catch the humanoid machine on the bounce. He timed his shot superbly, the 135mm round decapitating the mech in a perfect clean hit.
"One down!" The Drone operator called out.
"At least we know we can hurt them." Fraser approved. "Gunships Kate?"
"One minute out, they're burning hard but we didn't expect these robots to sprint."
"Just get them here and putting missiles on targets."
The other light mech, the Jenner, quickly adjusted course, digging its metal feet into the mud and skidding, the pilot expertly keeping the machine mostly vertical. Three tank rounds whizzed past, one with just inches to spare as he kicked off and picked up speed again running to flank the Earth Force gun line.
"That fast one's getting closer!" Private Daniels yelled a warning, his words accompanied by the tank turrets swinging further and further to the side until they were virtually firing over the heads of Garibaldi's platoon.
"Get flat and cover your ears!" He yelled as he dropped himself immediately as a twenty foot long gout of flame erupted overhead followed by the crack of a departing projectile. Even with his hands planted firmly over his ears the noise was temporarily deafening, not helped by a second shot three seconds later, and then a third. He was braced for a fourth but it never came, instead the whole world was bathed in neon green and became scorching hot.
A laser of some type speared the relatively weak side of the tank ignoring the built up earthworks, melting through the armor and flash frying the interior. The high explosive rounds detonated obliterating the vehicle, Garibaldi watching the turret spinning up and over his head to land somewhere down the ridge. The guns didn't use gunpowders as their older ancestors did, instead using inert binary liquids which needed to be mixed to combust as a safety feature. In this case though the damage was so intense the two liquid tanks burst spraying their contents into the air, when droplets hit each other they crackled in thousands of tiny explosions like fireworks.
Garibaldi felt like he'd been fried on a hot plate, the air itself was unbearably hot between the lasers and the nearby inferno of the wrecked tank. He was deaf, scorched, half blinded by the laser light but he could still feel the world around him tearing itself apart. The concussion of cannons firing shells just feet above his head, a second sweeping green laser beam, another sparkling crackle of BilPro storage dancing overhead in a macabrely beautiful sight.
He dragged himself up, blinking to banish the afterimages that ruled most of his vision, working his jaw to get some hearing back. He could make out the remaining two tanks in this platoon lurching backwards out of their positions, their line clearly flanked. They still fired but the Jenner was dodging hard and it this range the gun turrets weren't traversing quickly enough. A third tank took a hit, not fatal but enough to sheer off a track and dump it on its side, the fourth tank throwing up a fountain of mud as the driver panicked and gunned the engine too hard trying to escape.
"Fall back!" Garibaldi yelled, his own voice quiet over the ringing in his ears but hopefully loud enough for his platoon to hear. "Get back! Move now!"
The ground was shaking rhythmically as the mech altered course again, this time charging for the final tank as it struggled to get moving. Its course took it directly along the ridge, right over the position being held by Garibaldi's men. He had no idea if their trenches and foxholes would stand up to the passage of the machine, if his friends were about to be crushed into this worthless ground, if he was about to go to his own grave a failure.
Like hell he was.
The machine was almost on them, the tank still putting rounds over his head causing the mech to weave, to keep outpacing the frantically swinging gun turret. It was utterly focused on the Thor tank dodging its fire and trying to line up a kill shot of its own, the pilot completely ignoring the infantry that scattered and ran from the fast approaching enemy. All but for Michael Garibaldi.
He was furious, rageful, in that instant a lifetime of anger injected the fuel he needed to act into his veins. The constant retreats from the Minbari, the lost friends, the lost colonies, the fires of destroyed warships, the despair and the courage which had all counted for nothing. All he had seen as a soldier was the unfairness of war, the losses, the death and defeat and he had been powerless to stop it. Now though, here and now, he could stop it. He was not powerless, all he needed was the strength to seize the moment.
Garibaldi ran, but not down the ridge with the others, he instead threw himself into the command trench, into the path of the running machine by now just a few strides away, just a couple of seconds from running over him. He knew exactly what to do, what his target was, the sturdy portable command console for the six anti tank missiles guarding this part of the line. He had no idea if they would work, if they were powerful enough, but he was damn sure this chicken looking bastard wasn't going to have it all his own way today.
Garibaldi skidded to a stop in front of the console, gunfire thumping, the ground bouncing, he grabbed that console, swung the missiles around and up until the screen showed nothing but the metal belly of the mech by now almost immediately overhead, and he hit the fire button.
The trench was flooded with acrid smoke as all six missiles ripple fired straight up as the mech thundered overhead, the weapons unguided having had no time to achieve lock but at this proximity it didn't matter. Two missed by a small margin vanishing into the sky before running out of fuel and self destructing, but four struck home hitting the vulnerable motive elements of the belly with one striking the main hip joint severing the left leg in a shower of white smoke and burning metal.
That missile in particular sealed the Jenner's fate, the machine was already at full sprint and had no hope of stopping, the right leg propelled it forward, artificial muscles radiating heat Garibaldi could feel, but there was no left leg to continue the stride. The Jenner smashed itself into the ground face first, the cockpit shattering as several tons of machine pushed it into the ground. Momentum then took over, the high speed impact flipping the ruined main body end over end several times in squeals of splitting metal and showers of lofted mud. It came to rest at the bottom of the ridge an unrecognizable pile of tangled junk.
"You got him!"
Garibaldi snapped around to see Marlow looking in awe at the smoking pile of junk, the Sergeant's fury subsiding as his senses began to return.
"Yeah, one down."
"In the ground." The Private peered over. "Think he survived that?"
"Hell no, that son of a bitch is going home in a bucket." Garibaldi turned away, every muscle still infused with energy and a need to act. "Get me some reloads."
"Some what?"
"Reloads, for the missile turret." Garibaldi moved back into being a platoon Sergeant. "We might need it again, go."
"Right, got it Sarge."
He tapped the communication set in his helmet, steadying his breathing so he sounded like he was in complete control of the situation. "Lieutenant, front line is clear sir, suggest we re-establish defenses up here. It's still the best position."
"Understood." The reply came. "Did you just take out that robot Sergeant?"
"Yes sir, I don't see any others but there could be infantry following up. We should be prepared to meet them."
"You're right Sergeant, let's rally the men and be ready. Not much we can do about the other robots."
"Yes sir."
The robot was down, but it had taken three tanks with it leaving them just a lone vehicle as support, the mud splattered Thor tank holding still while the crew gathered their wits and thanked several assorted deities that they were still breathing. They still owned the flank, but at a cost, and this was just a small one.
The intense rumbles and cracks of gunfire told him all he needed to know about how the bigger robots were faring.
"Hostiles are a few hundred meters out and still advancing at speed." The picture on the screen was clear, the broad set combat robots heavily scarred but still operational. The lead one had lost its shoulder mounted missile launchers and seemed to have lost the use of an arm, but it had done little else to reduce its potency. The ridgeline had done its job sheltering the tanks, only one had been lost to long range fire, but with the enemy almost among them that would change.
"We can't hold the center, get Alpha company off that ridge." Fraser ordered. "Bravo company move forward, catch them on the flanks and establish a crossfire."
The frontline tanks throttled up and began to back out of their emplacements, half of them popping smoke to cover their retreat. It was a well executed maneuver but hadn't counted on the type of enemy they were up against.
As soon as the two pirates saw their enemy giving ground they charged, both mechs had been fitted with jump jets, more as an extravagance given the weight of the Hunchback and Thunderbolt, but they gave both pilots enough of a boost to instantly clear the outer slope of the ridge and drop down with a deafening crash on the summit before the tanks had much chance to move. The Thunderbolt landed heavy, its knees bending but holding, a pair of surprised tanks in front of it unable to react fast enough to take a point blank shot before they were cored by lasers. The hunchback did one better, dropping on top of one vehicle sending its multiple wheels flying off in all directions and burying the hull in the mud.
"Enemy on the ridge General, Alpha company still withdrawing."
"Get them back down fast." Fraser gritted his teeth, these robots were far more agile than anything so huge had a right to be, in among his tanks they were going to be hell to deal with. "Mitch, get some smoke up there!"
A few seconds later several Loki guns fired airburst smoke rounds at the ridge to screen the tanks but by that point it was too late, the mechs were far faster than the Thor tanks and easily out paced them firing as many shots as they could into the tops and flanks of the vehicles. Several more tanks were lost as they reversed down the ridge, most to laser fire but a couple to the terrain itself.
The rout was averted by the arrival of Bravo company heading down from a different part of the ridge, the second unit of tanks firing as they advanced, engines shrieking as the crews rode in to rescue their brethren.
"Lenny! Get Charlie Company in there now, get all the reserves up forward!" Fraser waved in the direction of the rapidly approaching enemy. "Get the experimental in too! Everything, on this line, right here!"
The two pirates reacted to the threat splitting up, the hunchback angling to intercept Bravo Company while the leader in his thunderbolt continued to drive Alpha Company toward the command post, the set of tents and vehicles an obvious target. The gunfire was starting to tell, both mechs were slowing down, the steady accumulation of damage and heat affecting performance, but the Thor tanks just weren't hitting hard enough or fast enough to overcome the mechs in time.
Bravo Company divided by platoon and engaged at speed, the soft ground not helping much, hoping mobility would grant them an advantage. The mech though remained faster, running down a tank that passed too close and kicking it out of control, then pivoting to obliterate a second with its autocannon.
Alpha Company was still bearing the brunt, its numbers almost depleted as they weaved and dodged the thunderbolt, salvation arriving just in time as the reserves advanced behind a hail of fast moving metal darts drawing the pirate's attention. By this point Fraser didn't need the drone to tell him where the enemy was, he just opened the door of the command vehicle and looked outside, the massive ugly black and white machine side stepping a sabot round that whistled past before shrugging off two more that hit, stripping off a chunk and crumbling armor.
The mech retaliated with lasers, one of the reinforcement tanks erupting in fire this time as it shifted focus, backing up until it was almost on top of the command vehicle, deafening blasts from the tanks and the passing of cannon shots rocking the vehicle on its wheels.
"To hell with this!"
Fraser jumped down from the vehicle, his presence there not required at this moment, and ran for a parked jeep nearby. The shadow of the machine was right over him though the pilot was too busy with tanks to go for soft targets yet. The General cracked open a storage compartment on the back of the vehicle and pulled out a shoulder launched rocket, lining up the anti tank missile and firing it in a blast of rocket smoke at the mech. It hit in a satisfying explosion but achieved little, prompting the General to turn angrily back to the vehicle and look for another.
"Anyone have any more missiles?"
His plea was answered by the roar of a dozen incoming rockets streaking across the sky and pummeling the Thunderbolt, the machine staggering as it absorbed the full weight of the impacts. Overhead at last the Valkyries arrived, VTOL gunships rushing past and swinging around, pilots killing as much speed as they could manage to orbit the battlefield.
"About damn time you lazy bastards!" Fraser shouted up at the aircraft with a laugh. "Go murder them!"
The gunships threw a new variable into the mix, their jets angling to swing around and face the targets, four on either mech. The initial salvo had hit hard but it still wasn't enough to stop the thunderbolt, the pirate vehicle smoking and pitted but still very much in the fight. It swung around and backed off raising a laser equipped arm to fire on the newly arrived aircraft, the VTOLs having gone into the hover to give their targeting computers time to deliver a massed precision strike.
It was a fatal mistake, the laser cutting down two VTOLs before the other two took evasive action punching out chaff and flares to confuse the thunderbolts targeting system. Shaken but undeterred the two survivors circled back and loosed more rockets and missiles, abandoning the complex targeting computers and firing by eye. They supplemented the attacks with pulse cannons, blue energy splashing against the enemy machine adding to its woes.
In that instant the calculus changed, with the gunships distracting the thunderbolt its pilot failed to notice six fresh tanks rolling into position, disregarding them as more annoying bugs to stomp. The lack of concern cost him his life, the six vehicles opening fire and immediately crippling the mech, blasting off an arm and shooting out a knee causing the mighty robot to finally drop to the mud.
The Thor tanks had proven insufficient for the task, as they had when facing the massive Minbari assault tanks. To counter them Earth had rapidly developed a new vehicle, the Odin battle tank, which had replaced the 135mm BilPro cannon of the Thor with a tremendously potent 105mm gauss cannon. Only six prototypes had so far been built, and Fraser had brought them all.
The gauss cannons hit hard, the tungsten cored sabots piercing the already cracked and weakened mech armor like tissue shattering interior components through sheer brute force and finally ending the rampage of the pirate commander. The thunderbolt fell forward, struggling in the mud to right itself. A scorched Thor tank trundled up, one of the few survivors of Alpha Company, and at six feet of range put a shot through the cockpit.
The hunchback lasted a little longer on the flank but its fate was also sealed, it halted for a moment to aim its massive shoulder mounted autocannon letting an extremely aggressive VTOL pilot rush in from the flank and cut in front of the mech spraying pulse fire into the muzzle of the heavy autocannon. The bolts detonated the heavy shell while it was still in the breach, which then set off the ammo storage. In an instant the Hunchback ceased to exist, two thirds of its torso vanished into shards while the rest was thrown into the mud.
The VTOL wobbled as it was peppered by debris, the pilot expertly dropping it belly down into the mud and ejecting, the last tally for the pirate assault. Fraser watched the pilot swinging under the parachute, the black columns of smoke from his burning vehicles and the shot through metal corpses of the battlemechs. They had the day and had the planet, but nobody had expected their enemies to be this resilient. Things were going to have to change and fast.
