Authors: Rick Shelley
Tags: #General, #Military, #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Romance
But there were more of them, off to either side. Fortunately for the reccers, those Heggies seemed to be more concerned with the artillery rounds that were exploding, moving toward them from either end of the street. Third recon sprinted to the right of the door they had come out of. Each man was counting down the seconds, and before he reached ten, he went down, just in case the explosion inside the building proved to be more violent than they expected.
The sound of the explosion—explosions—was more muted than Dem had anticipated, but flame and debris shot out through the open doorway. Behind that first eruption, there were sounds of more explosions inside, and a continuing roll of smoke and flame coming through the doorway.
Dem didn't wait for more. He whistled over his platoon frequency, then shouted, "Let's go!" as he got to his feet and started running again. The building where 4th platoon was hiding was across the next intersection and on the far side of the lane. Dem didn't time himself, but he thought that he might have set a record for the hundred-meter dash, even loaded down with more than thirty kilograms of gear. Even Fredo, injured and still groggy, kept up with the group.
—|—
The Schlinal army had another low rampart just outside the nearest line of buildings. Rocks and soil cleared away when the construction sites were leveled had merely been shoved out of the way, heaped up along a line. Like the other line, this one had resulted mostly from construction workers moving material simply the regulation number of meters away from their work site and leaving it, rather than from any conscious design for defense. Time and weather had done most of the "work" of improving that original "construction."
The rampart did provide cover against rifle fire. The ground sloped downward, gently, from the base toward the airfield and the sea in front of the rampart. That gave the Heggies the high ground as well. They had another line of defense on the rooftops, all of the roofs that had not been cleared by the reccers.
Echo through Howard companies of the 13th had reached the first line less than a minute after the artillery barrage lifted. Their advance had stalled again there as the Heggies behind the second line and on the roofs kept up heavy fire.
"We need the artillery again," Teu Ingels told Colonel Stossen. "It's the only way we're going to get in there." Stossen and his staff had moved around from the north side of the base to the east just a few minutes before. They were almost directly off of the northeast corner now, slightly more around to the east. The two halves of the 13th had finally met.
"I don't think we're going to get our Havocs, at least for a bit," Stossen replied. "The general's using all of the artillery to force a breakthrough at the canal. That's why I had so much trouble getting them for even a few minutes before. Right now, I guess the other is more important. It's the only hope for the rest of our people to make it out here before the new fleet gets in."
"We've got to do
something
," Dezo Parks said. "We have to take this base before that new fleet arrives. Destroy the stockpiles the Heggies have here, or take them for our own use. Especially if the 8th and 5th don't make it out to us."
"We're outnumbered already," Stossen reminded him. "Maybe two to one or worse, with just the Heggies inside the base trying to keep us out. They have the defensive positions. Without artillery or air, we don't have any leverage at all. The general has preempted all of the Wasps as well."
"At least the Heggies don't have any air left either," Bal Kenneck noted. "And they've been using their tanks strictly against the units at the canal."
"What about the reccers?" Ingels asked. "Enough of them left to help us open a way into the base?"
"I'm waiting to hear from them now," Parks said. "They were going to try to consolidate during the barrage. Altogether, they only equal one recon platoon now. Maybe less. If there are enough of them left to matter..." Parks just shook his head.
"Colonel, I think we should consider just sitting tight until the 8th gets here," Bal suggested. "Get the reccers out if possible, so they're not in the way. Let the general use all of the air and artillery to clear the streets in there once the breakthrough is established south of here. Do what we can to establish a perimeter of our own in case they don't get to us in time."
"The new fleet could be overhead by then, more Heggies on their way down," Ingels pointed out. "If we get stuck between them..."
"The general wants to avoid that as well," Stossen said. "Who's commanding the reccers now?"
"Nimz," Parks said, "3rd recon's platoon sergeant."
Stossen nodded, remembering Nimz's hoarse pleas for artillery support. "Good man. He calls again, I'll talk to him myself, Dezo. In the meantime, let's do what damage we can. Vrerchs and RPGs. Splat guns to clear the lanes between those buildings. Tell the platoons to get their snipers busy as well, to clear away as many of the Heggies on the near roofs as they can."
—|—
A frontal attack into prepared enemy positions is the deadliest form of assault infantry can make, something that most commanders have avoided whenever possible for thousands of years. The 8th SAT moved north along the road leading from the western bridge. The first minutes of the attack were especially brutal. The first company to storm the Heggie line was completely wiped out, every man either killed or wounded too severely to continue. The second company thrown against the defenses was very nearly destroyed as well.
But the rest of the 8th continued to move forward, two companies—what was left of them—at the point of a wedge, pushing against the Heggie defenders in front of them. The rest of the 8th moved forward on the flanks, widening the assault. Behind them, the 97th LIR moved forward as well.
At first, the Heggie line held solid. That line was crowded, men "stacked" three deep. Noncoms and officers were close with their disciplinary squads to make sure that no one retreated. Then the line bent from the continued pressure. Men moved north, but not far. The Heggies formed a new line across the gap not more than a hundred meters behind the first. To either side of the road, the rest of the Heggie line adjusted itself. The line did thin out somewhat. A lot of bodies were left behind.
The 8th and 97th pressed the attack. Just in front of them, the Wasps of the 5th and 8th SAT, and the 17th IAW made repeated runs back and forth. From farther back, the Havocs of all three SATs made their contribution.
Wasps fell from the sky on every pass. Nova tanks returned artillery fire. The tanks were close enough to take out some of the Havocs, though they lost as many tanks in return.
In the middle, infantrymen fought and died.
And died.
General Dacik had moved his command post closer to the western bridge. As soon as possible, he wanted to move across the canal—but not just yet. He watched the fighting through binoculars, lying flat just behind the last ridge south of the canal.
Along the rest of the front, fighting was light. Dacik had moved as much of his army as he could to put it across the one bridge. The enemy had moved forces to counter that. At the other bridge, to the east, the 5th and the 1st battalion of the 34th did what they could to tie down Heggies. If the Schlinal warlords moved too many of the men guarding that bridgehead, the 5th would be able to break through.
Can we do it in time?
Dacik asked himself. He could see the carnage on the north side of the canal. Even without the reports he was getting from the 8th and 97th, he could tell how badly his units were being hurt.
Can we do it at all?
Even that wasn't certain. He closed his eyes, just for a second. Even if they did manage the breakthrough in time and got to the base at the far end of the peninsula, would it do any good?
Will we have anyone left to face this new army when it lands?
"We're through!" Colonel Foss's voice shouted in Dacik's ear. Over the radio. "We've got our hole through their line."
Dacik felt his heart thumping loudly. "Go for it, Nape," Dacik said. "Get north as fast as you can. Take the 97th with you. Don't worry about anything else. Just get up there and link up with the 13th."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The primary reason why so few battles are fought in space is a matter of physics. Changing direction is not merely a matter of spinning a steering wheel or control yoke and immediately speeding off on a new heading. There are direct analogies between space navy and the older sea navies—wind and sail. It takes time and energy to change the course of a ship in space. That is true for a ship in orbit with a speed of less than 30,000 kilometers per hour. It is much more evident when the ship is braking after emerging from hyperspace at more than 120,000 kilometers per hour. The geometry of plotting an intercept course in real time is beyond the capabilities of the unaided human mind. Powerful computers working in parallel are used to plot the course and the engine requirements for achieving the interception. The capabilities of ship thrusters, measured against momentum and local gravity—as well as the speed and course (subject to change) of the vessel to be intercepted—restrict what
can
be done, and how quickly.
Ships in space must be
close
in order to do battle at all. Despite millennia of weapons development, none of the available weapons are of any particular value against enemy ships at any real distance. Energy and particle beams, even though they operate at or near the speed of light, will do little damage to a capital ship. Hulls designed to protect travelers against the dangers of cosmic radiation need little additional hardening to protect against energy weapons, and that technology is older than interstellar travel itself. Ship-to-ship missiles travel more slowly. They can almost always be intercepted before they can travel much more than half of the distance to their target. Two capital ships rarely get close enough for missiles from one to reach the other before interception.
That fact had led to the design and deployment of fleets of small fighter spacecraft, vehicles given over to payload and propellant. With less mass and higher accelerations, a flight of fighters could hope to get close enough to launch more missiles than the enemy's defenses could handle—
if
the attack fighters could get past the enemy's defensive fighter screen.
Improvements were slow in coming, and incremental. Better offensive weapons were met by improved defenses. In the few years of fighting between the Accord and the Hegemony, neither side had yet managed to tip the balance. The usual result of battle was the destruction of flocks of fighters, with crippling damage to the capital ships of either side rare.
Over Tamkailo, all that the Accord really wanted was a chance to destroy significant numbers of Schlinal shuttles before they could land reinforcements on the world below.
Intersection was still more than an hour away.
—|—
General Dacik released the 13th's Havocs to support the 13th again—for five minutes. Major Norwich acted as spotter. He was with Colonel Stossen at the north end of the peninsula. Norwich directed the fire against the outer rampart and against the walls of the outer buildings. High-explosive and armor-piercing—the latter against the buildings.
Ten seconds before the expiration of the five minutes that the general had allowed, Colonel Stossen ordered his infantry forward.
—|—
Blue Flight accelerated toward the Schlinal base. Zel and his remaining Wasps had been hunting Novas along the peninsula. Major Tarkel had called to ask if they were close enough to make a single pass—without getting approval for the mission from General Dacik. Zel had agreed instantly. Goose Tarkel didn't even mention it to Colonel Stossen until the Wasps were ready to start their strafing run. He saw no need to tell the general at all.
Three Wasps came in from the east, each following a lane between buildings. They used their cannons, sweeping from one side of the Schlinal base to the other. It could only be once through. Then the Wasps turned south again, heading back to their tank hunting.
—|—
Nimz waited until he heard Wasp cannon fire move past the building. It was a distinct sound—a metallic rain—plain even through the building's thick stone walls. Dem had his men posted and ready. He had done a little quick reorganizing. The reccers would operate as a single platoon now. The four squads did not, quite, correspond to the original four platoons.
"Let's go," he said softly, as soon as the metal rain passed the door. He had been warned of the Wasp pass only some ten seconds before it started.
The 13th's reccers moved through the one doorway, rapidly, into the land that had just been cleared of Heggies. Dem led his men east at a run to the next intersection. With half of his men on either side of the east-west lane, they started shooting at the Heggies to the north and south in the cross street. They had ten seconds of pure target practice, shooting at men who weren't expecting an enemy on the ground behind them, ten seconds to do as much damage as they could before they came under fire again. Dem and his men were reccers. They made the most of their opportunity.
—|—
Echo Company was up and moving west behind the artillery barrage and the Wasp runs that coincided with the end of the barrage. The two rough ramparts were 120 meters apart. Echo came under only light and sporadic fire as they raced across those 120 meters.
When they reached the inner rampart, Echo paused for only an instant. Commanders checked to make certain that the units on their flanks had also reached the rampart. Then Colonel Stossen gave them another "Go" and the 13th started moving forward again, into the Heggie base.
Echo was at the extreme left of the 13th's attack. They climbed over the rampart and scores of bodies, then turned left, firing into the area between the rampart and the wall of the nearest building. They moved south, aiming for the next east-west lane through the base.