The Landfall Campaign (The Nameless War) (42 page)

That’s a problem,
Eulenburg thought.

“
Some of them are going after the fighters that have already gone atmospheric,
”
Gillum continued,
“
if they…
”

“
I know Captain!
”
Eulenburg snapped back.

A drop fighter, at least in human service, was something of a hybrid of a space fighter and atmospheric fighter. Designed primarily for use inside a planetary environment, a drop fighter had at best a limited ability to operate and fight in space. They weren’t much of a match for a space fighter in its natural environment, but once they both dropped back into atmosphere, the tables would be turned.

“
Can our fighters engage?
”

“
Eighty percent of them sir, are reporting ammunition expended.
”

Between a rock and a hard place. The Nameless were continuing to show the same brutal willingness to accept casualties that had already nearly won the war for them. Their first wave of ground forces had taken a terrible beating but now, if the human fighters stayed among the descending drop ships, while they’d be safe from the Nameless starships, they
’
d be sitting ducks for the Drop Fighters and thousands of kilometres from the protection of the friendly atmospheric fighters circling over the shelters. Few if any of them would survive.

“
Order the fighters to break off. They’ll have to make re-entry directly into our fighter umbrella,
”
Eulenburg ordered before turning to watch the display. His face was grim as the fighters once again ran the gauntlet of missiles from the Nameless warships. Following in their wake came the enemy fighters, like hyenas tracking wounded prey. Behind them drop ships continued to descend towards the planet surface.

“
How many?
”
Chevalier asked in a whispery voice.

“
We shot down maybe eight percent, at absolute most,
”
Eulenburg replied wearily.
“
Not enough though. That much
’
s certain.
”

“
We were never going to stop them from making a landing.
”
the Brigadier paused for a laboured breath.
“
We didn’t have the assets to put in their way.
”

“
I had hoped to shoot down more before they landed.
”
Eulenburg shook his head.
“
No. No, that
’
s a lie Sebastian. I didn
’
t think they would actually make a landing.
”

“
Yes, we are operating off the map. People have been arguing for…
”
Chevalier broke off coughing,
“
… arguing for twenty years, whether a forced planetary landing could or would be made.
”

“
I thought once it was clear they
’
d have to fight, and they didn
’
t appear willing to take the losses necessary to put in a bombardment, that we were going to be left to wither on the vine.
”

“
What
’
s your next move?
”

“
I don’t know.
”
There it was: the admission he couldn
’
t make to another living soul. Every course of action open to him looked to lead to disaster of one sort or another.

“
What have they landed?
”

“
I don’t really know that either. They have established at least three beachheads, each close to one of the shelters. Guess we needn
’
t have worried about them throwing all their strength at one shelter at a time. But any idea of mutual support by the shelters is gone. Ours is approximately one hundred and fifty kilometres west of here. Their air defence is first class. Only one of our recon drones has penetrated their perimeter and even that one didn’t last more than a minute or two. It saw some kind of infantry, several battalions at least, soft skinned vehicles, artillery, possibly some armour but kinds or quantities
…
your guess is as good as mine.
”
Eulenburg paused staring into the middle distance,
“
They’re definitely building a spaceport and establishing their supply dumps. Once they have enough supplies and can move them forward, they’ll advance on us. Beyond that we know nothing.
”

“
No Alfred, we know the direction they’re going to come from.
”

The clear plastic sheeting that had protected the Brigadier’s burned flesh during the early days of his injury, had now been replaced with treated pads to encourage the development of healthy skin. In turn conventional bandages held these in place. Although his eyes themselves hadn’t been damaged, the eyelids were another matter. Chevalier sat in his bed, his entire head swaddled in bandages, only his nostrils, mouth and ear holes uncovered. But while his body was still recovering, his mind, now that he’d been weaned off painkillers, was regaining much of its old sharpness.

“
If air reconnaissance has failed, then we must send someone overland.
”

“
Asking someone to go beyond the perimeter Sebastian, is asking them to die.
”

“
Not necessarily,
”
Chevalier replied.
“
Small recon teams have a very real chance of avoiding detection. The information they can send back, now that most of our satellites are gone, will be priceless.
”

“
There will be no back-up for them. Once we come under close siege, the only way in and out will be the backdoor. The more we use that, the more we run the risk of it being discovered.
”

Chevalier let out a tired sigh.

“
You can’t save everyone Alfred,
”
he said.
“
You’re already asking everyone in those trenches to die. On the subject of risk, the coming siege will be an extreme exercise in risk management. Using the back door is a risk, but as long as we take care, it
’
s an acceptable one.
”

The back door was another construction that took advantage of the legacy of Mount Hurtado
’
s volcanic past. It comprised a mixture of tunnels dug by humans and natural caverns that led from the deepest levels of the base to an opening in a heavily forested location seventeen kilometres to the north of Douglas as the crow flies. It had originally been conceived as a main way into the shelter, but that had been abandoned during construction. Now it served as a discrete entry and exit point.

Eulenburg stared into the middle distance for a while.

“
You think it is necessary?
”
he asked quietly.

“
Yes.
”

“
I
’
ll ask for volunteers.
”

“
And make sure that there
’
s enough explosives at the back door so it can be brought down quickly if we have to.
”

Nearly three weeks passed without any movement by the Nameless towards Douglas, which wasn
’
t to say there was no movement at all. In orbit they were busy constructing something at the Lagrange Point between Landfall and the planet
’
s moon, while at the same time successive waves of transports continued to make further landings. Each Nameless convoy was met by the rapidly diminishing ranks of Landfalls fighters, until finally their numbers were reduced to less than a quarter of their original strength. Of the six recon teams dispatched towards the beachhead, three had stopped transmitting within a week.

Finally on day twenty the Nameless started their advance on Douglas. It took them two days to reach the base and another two to complete their encirclement. Down in Four C Eulenburg could only watch, deploy his forces and prepare for the inevitable.

___________________________

3
rd
May 2067, 06:30 Hrs Douglas Base, Frontline, Northern Quadrant.

It was funny really how the body sometimes learns faster than the brain it carried around. That was the thought that crossed Alice’s mind just after she heard the whistles of a salvo of missiles descending towards her. Without conscious thought, she
’
d instinctively pressed herself flat against the trench wall closest to the enemy. Every muscle in her body tensed. And she prayed.

The trench wall seemed to dance as the missiles started to land with a series of ear-splitting cracks. The first two descended into no man
’
s land, while the second pair came down between the front and support trenches. The third burst close, very close. Close enough for the concussion to knock her to her knees. Overhead shrapnel and wooden splinters zipped past and shattered tree branches rained down. As silence returned, Alice tried to draw breath as she pushed back the helmet that had slipped over her eyes. Why was it, she asked herself as she fought for breath, that every time it felt like she’d just run a marathon.

“
Get over it girl,
”
she muttered to herself.
“
It’s no big deal. You don’t hear the one that gets you.
”

It wasn’t the first time she’d heard incoming missiles, but it was the first time she’d been in the frontline when it happened, bringing breakfast up from the support line. From the distance came another series of approaching whistles and again she hugged the trench wall. This time there was no landing though and four distant explosions instead. Without doing anything so foolish as raise her head above the parapet, Alice looked up towards the nearest hill. A few weeks ago the forest canopy would have blocked her view, now a combination of winter and artillery fire had brought enough down to clear a line of slight. The marines with their usual tendency toward the grimly cheerful, called that hill and its laser battery, Famine. Working clockwise around the plateau the rest were War, Pestilence and of course, Death. The laser defence battery sited on top of the hill was now fully activated, tracking and firing on the missiles arcing toward Northern Quadrant. Although from where Alice crouched, a barely detectable glimmer was the only sign of its operation.

A pair of hands grabbed her underneath the arms and heaved her back onto her feet.

“
You alright, Peats?
”
Corporal Tessa Dennison asked roughly.

“
Yes, Corp,
”
she replied shakily just before ducking again as another missile landed in no man’s-land.
“
Should I go back to the support line?
”

“
Laser defence knew that one was falling short,
”
Dennison

said. She
’
d stayed upright when Alice ducked,
“
it let it go through. Get your stuff together and get down into the deep shelter.
”

“
Corp?
”

“
Already got word from HQ. This is the just the warm up act. They
’
re bringing up more arty. It
’
s too late for you to get to the support line and you aren
’
t going to want to be in the communication trenches for this. We’re in for a fun afternoon.
”

Beyond, Alice could hear more missiles landing and increasingly few being brought down short.

She joined the stream of marines heading for the sector’s deep shelter, as all around missiles continued to land. She paused to allow two marines, carrying a third between them to pass. The wounded man’s face was nearly grey and his right leg was covered in blood. Even as they passed, Alice could see he was struggling not to cry out as, despite his comrades
’
efforts, he was bumped and jostled. Then it was her turn to descend into the earth.

As she went down the uneven steps she realised that while claustrophobia hadn
’
t bothered her during the time she’d spend in the base’s main shelters, it was going to this time. Down there she
’
d been below hundreds of metres of good solid rock, but here they were only twenty-five metres down beneath soil and concrete, deep enough to be buried alive, but not deep enough to feel safe. There were no seats in the shelter as there hadn’t been time to find or build any. Non-combatants like Alice were herded toward the back, furthest from the entrance, which only intensified her discomfort. When the barrage lifted, the marines would have to be the first out. As she sat on the damp uneven floor, in the semi darkness, Alice watched as streams of dust fell from ceiling to floor with each impact. There was almost no talk in the shelter as the noise pretty much precluded any such attempt, even if people had tried. Instead people simply sat there, most of them staring fixedly at the entranceway, tightly gripping their weapons and equipment. A few seemed to manage to look impassive, calm even. Alice envied them, perhaps even hated them a little. Most jumped and startled at each crash though. With so many bodies in such a confined space, the heat and humidity was rising fast. Alice could soon feel sweat streaming down her back. She looked at her watch a few times near the start and was shocked to see how little time has passed. After that she stopped looking. Better not to know that what seemed like hours, was only minutes.