The snout of the huge beast’s 150 centilynt beam weapon bobbed downward as if casting for scent trails, then snapped up, as the vehicle pushed across a shallow, green tinged stream, crushing the coarse, blue heather with its passage. Behind the AFV, in a trailing diamond formation, were four of the Tacticos’ infantry fighting vehicles (IFV), each sporting its own 20-centilynt autocannon, each carrying an eight-man squad.
Liav breathed in slowly, smelling the atmosphere of the moon-world, a stink to which he no longer paid any attention. In the northern sky rose the huge multicolored ball of the neighboring gas giant, Falk Majoris.
The Antarian Tacticos’ combat doctrine was inept. They were much too close to each other. He should not be able to see more than one armored vehicle at a time, let alone all five. Liav moved his head again and looked west toward the smoke drifting over the small city that was the moon’s capital and one of its only two metropolises. He then glanced down and toward the lower left of his helmet’s visual display noting the dull red icons which told him that all, but one, of his marine platoon were dead or taken.
Liav had been over 700 kilolynts inland running a grueling training course to the other side of the moon’s only continent and back, when he had received the emergency recall. Only 20 cycles ago he had checked out a combat scout exoskeleton and helmet and had strapped on a full load. He remembered his squad mates teasing him about his workout and his desire to apply for the Special Space Forces next year at the Marines’ training world of Brecon. Now all of his squad mates were dead. All except Trudi.
"Set the rest of the mines in a diamond seven, Trudi-girl. That'll finish the Q."
"Aye, aye, Corp."
He watched as the vague, shimmering figure moved out. Lance Corporal Liav followed the short vicious battle on his helmet comm as he made his way back to the capitol, running his scout exoskeleton at top speed. The Antarians had cruised in-system with an unknown number of capital ships and at least one assault ship. Four armored landing craft (ALC), carrying infantry and armored fighting vehicles and at least a regiment of Tacticos had landed near the capitol and the s’port. A regiment, Liav cursed silently. At least four companies, a full commando in marine parlance, against one mixed platoon. And the Tacticos had air cover and armor.
The senior Lieutenant had done the best she could. Damn good really, for an operation doomed at its start. The platoon’s regular duties on this thinly populated moon-world were ceremonial, with some colonial law enforcement thrown in for good measure. But they were still combat trained space marines.
Liav realized now that the Lieutenant must have gamed the scenario for some time prior to the invasion. Political tension had been building for over a standard year between the Antarian government and the Union of Worlds over this out of the way colony named Falk Prime. But no one, anyway not Liav at least, expected an invasion. Not for this little ball of cold dirt, methane-tinged atmosphere, and blue colored tundra.
The senior Lieutenant and the platoon Sergeant had divided the platoon into two groups. The two eight-person squads of light marines in their clamshell armor and crew served weapons, two 20- centilynt man portable power cannon and two strella rocket launchers, set up a S shaped ambush along the road between the s’port and the capitol city. The one, four-person squad of heavy marines, in their powered combat armor, were sent wide in a flanking attack on the enemy column, once the forward ambush was tripped.
Even though he was over 300 kilolynts away and running at a speed of 60 k a standard cycle, Liav had attended the briefing via his helmet’s heads-up display. The one squad of scouts, Bok and Frum, Liav’s crew, had immediately been sent out to fix the enemy’s line of advance. They had found nothing unique—just a single armored thrust heading directly for the capitol. But then with overwhelming numerical superiority fancy tactics weren’t needed on the Antarian’s part. The senior lieutenant had directed Liav to make best possible speed to the pullback rendezvous (RV), provide rendezvous security, and wait for survivors. And she had sent the newbie, Private Trudi Ger to wait for him and help.
Now, after the battle, only one member of the platoon had made it. But, she had trailing her what was left of a mounted armor company of Tacticos. A company against one heavy marine and one scout. And, for what it was worth, one newbie. Almost a fair fight, the platoon sergeant would have said. Except the sergeant had been disintegrated in a burst of incandescent beam fire about two and a half cycles ago.
Liav tried to make contact. But it was no go. The Ensign's comm must have been hit. The icon told him that the marine in the powered armor was the new Ensign, fresh from officer’s candidate school back on Brecon. A stocky young woman from the same heavy G world as the LT. Liav hoped she had the sense to remember her RV training. He had done everything by the book—placed the mobile mines from his standard load in the Q formation at the head of most obvious approach to the small vale that was the RV. Then he had taken a forward flank over-watch position. Then he'd sent the newbie back to the assembly area. If the Ensign remembered correctly, and kept her head, she would lead the enemy into the minefield. Then she would escape via the prearranged route. All she had to do was note the special scout beacon he had set at the beginning of the field.
Liav scanned the low hills trying to spot the Ensign. He finally caught a glimpse of her as she came out of a gorse filled draw to the right of the mouth of the hollow. Liav’s jaw tightened as he noted her dangling left arm. Her whole left side must have taken a beam hit.
"Corp!" The newbie comm'd finally spotting the officer and those following her, rising panic obvious in her tone.
"Shut up!" He barked harshly. "Stay off channel."
The armor was blackened and rippled in appearance. Liav watched as she entered the minefield. Dammit! She’s moving too slowly!
Liav reached out and pulled his sniper weapon onto his lap, simultaneously inserting the guidance wire into his exoskeleton, arming the weapon, and then meshing the cyberoptic sighting mechanism with his helmet’s visual display. He had taken it on his “run” in the hopes of a chance to hunt ulak afterward. It wouldn’t be much help in a fight with armored vehicles. The rocket-assisted projectiles were designed to be effective against troopers wearing non-shielded combat armor, although its range, accuracy, and rate of fire were phenomenal in a shoulder fired weapon. Liav started his breathing exercise once again.
In her newly dug hole, the blue gorse gently swaying in the wind above her head, Private Trudi Ger swallowed the bile that kept surging up from her stomach and armed her blaster. Tears crept out of her eyes and she shook her head to clear her vision. "The Corp knows what he's doing…The Corp knows what he's doing…" she kept saying over and over in her mind like a prayer, fear eating her like a maggot on a corpse.
The Lance Corporal watched with troubled eyes as the Ensign made her way through the hidden minefield. Once she was out, instead of continuing to the second, fallback RV, she doubled back and took what could only be an assault position in a small depression at the far end of the vale.
“Great Maker!”, Liav cursed under his breath, suddenly realizing what she was planning. “Save me from all Ensigns, she’s going to make a ‘stand’. A friggin ‘stand’.” Liav could understand her motivation for wanting to die fighting. But from his point of view she was acting prematurely.
There were still too many unknowns. The odds were favorable that the government might want its colony back. And, if and when, the Union of Worlds Space Navy made its appearance it just might be helpful to have someone dirt side. But here was this green slit of an Ensign deciding that it was a good time to die.
A gentle warble began to sound in his helmet signaling that the minefield was activating itself. Lance Corporal Liav had just enough time to orient himself towards his front when the far side of the minefield leapt forward attacking the underside of the enemies’ vehicles. The mobile mines were designed to implant themselves under the ground, lie dormant until activated then burst into the air, racing toward the nearest enemy and exploding. Miniature suns suddenly surrounded the AFV and it lurched to a halt. One, then two of the infantry fighting vehicles exploded into pieces, their power cannon turrets spinning high into the air. At the far end of the vale the Ensign stood, raised her right arm, and fired the attached strella rocket. The stalled AFV exploded into a brilliant display of thousands of multicolored sparks and burning shards of metal arching hundreds of lynts into the air; and then, almost simultaneously, a beam from the rear most infantry fighting vehicle struck the Ensign with molten fury.
With a bitter taste in his mouth and rage in his heart Liav tore his gaze away from where the Ensign had been and raised his weapon.
"Open fire, Ger!" Liav comm'd and stood. Only two of the infantry vehicles remained, but both were immobilized. Suddenly the vehicles’ rear hatches were thrown open and sixteen Tactico troopers spilled out in a desperate attempt to set up a defensive perimeter.
"Ger, open fire, dammit! Open fire!"
Liav knew he had little time before air cover arrived. He wouldn’t be able to get the vehicles’ crews still buttoned behind their armor, but these troopies outside were dead men. He quickly scanned their position and selected one that acted like a leader. The explosive round tore the Tactico officer in two. Liav didn’t observe that however, he had already selected his second target, fired, and was lining up his third.
"Ger, you bitch! Open fire! Dammit, open fire!" Liav screamed into his comm as he began to receive return fire, the tundra exploding in great steaming clumps around his position.
Huddled in her hole, tears streaming down her cheeks, hands frozen to her weapon, Private Trudi Ger listened in terror to Lance Corporal Liav’s angry pleas. Then, finally, choking down her vomit, the young woman crawled to her feet and started firing blindly toward the enemy.
