The Empire’s Corps: Book 01 - The Empire's Corps (36 page)

“The report says that at least a hundred bandits appeared out of nowhere and started attacking the town,” the dispatcher said. “The signal was lost moments later and I have been unable to raise them.”

“Poor bastards,” George said. The bandits were finally striking back in response to the loss of their base. It was brute force on an unforgivable scale. “Mobilise Alpha and Beta Companies; tell them I want them ready to depart in five minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” the dispatcher said. Alpha Company had been on QRA; they should be ready to depart by now, with Beta Company just behind. They might not have been Marines, but their reaction time was commendably fast. “Delta Company is reporting in and asking for orders.”

George glanced up at the map, mentally placing Delta Company’s position in context. He swore under his breath. Delta Company was out of position, even though they were armed and ready to move. It would take longer to get them to Morgan than it would to move both of the QRA companies at Fort Galahad.

“Tell them to double-time it back to the Fort,” he ordered. “We’ll use them as backstop if we run into trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” the dispatcher said.

“Pass the alert up the chain to Camelot and Castle Rock and tell them that we need some helicopter support out here,” George added. “And tell them that I’m taking command personally.”

Spencer blinked. “Sir?”

“It’s not debatable,” George snapped, still studying the map. They couldn’t get to Morgan in time to prevent the bandits from sacking the town, but if they moved fast, they
could
get into position to block the bandits from escaping. With the other townships alerted, they’d have to be careful not to run right into a trap. “You are to remain here; keep sending updates back to the city.”

“Yes, sir,” Spencer said. “Good luck, sir.”

***

Eric Passover watched, grinning openly, as Morgan died. The township hadn’t been very important, even though it served as a crossroads for the network of roads that stretched out of Camelot and up towards the badlands. It had fallen into a moribund changelessness that drove young men and women away to other homesteads or down to the city, leaving it occupied by the very young and the very old. The farmers had paid their taxes to the government, their debt interest to the debt sharks and their tribute to the bandits, which was one of the reasons why they had been so badly surprised when the bandits appeared and opened fire. They hadn’t realised that they’d just been pawns in a greater game.

He felt his mouth fall open in delight as the flames licked higher into the sky. Unlike many of the other bandits, Eric had little time for rape and less for looting – it was the pure art of destruction he craved. It had been impossible to destroy one of the city-blocks on Earth – they’d been built so solidly that a nuclear warhead wouldn’t do more than scratch their paint – but on Avalon, everything burnt. The wind blew and sheets of flame spread rapidly, jumping from house to house. The ground shook as an underground store of fuel caught fire and exploded, sending a billowing fireball raging up into the air. Eric laughed out loud, feeling his inner self jumping for joy at such destruction. The flames would spread into the fields and burn the crops to the ground. Who knew how far they would spread in the hot weather?

“Hey, Eric,” one of his men shouted. “Come and have some fun with this babe here?”

Eric followed his gaze. Three of the bandits were holding down a girl from the homestead, having torn away her clothes and exposed her body to their gaze. They’d already had her, fucking her despite her screams and protests, and would have her again once Eric took a turn, if he took a turn. He looked at her and, despite the almost sexual excitement of the blaze, shook his head. There was something pure about burning a township to the ground, while raping a girl was just…squalid. The bandits shrugged and returned to their fun, while Eric walked outside the township, passing the untouched buildings on the way. The blaze shifted and a wave of heat struck him in the face, just before the remaining buildings suddenly caught fire. He saw a woman’s face in one of them, her face contorted in agony, before the flames swept over her and she was gone. Perhaps it was the smoke, or the lack of oxygen, or perhaps she’d been burned to a crisp instantly. It didn’t matter. Eric had killed her and destroyed her home.

His radio buzzed once, a warning. The Civil Guard had finally responded to the atrocity and they were on their way. He took one last look at the destruction and pulled a whistle out of his pocket, blowing it as loudly as he could. All over the ruined township, the bandits dropped whatever they were doing and ran for the edge of town. Behind them, the girls they’d been raping crawled away, hunting blindly for a safety that no longer existed. Eric’s grin grew wider as he contemplated their feelings. Their lives had been ruined and it had all been because of him.

“Come on,” he shouted, at the handful of stragglers. The Knife had put him in command simply because he
wouldn’t
waste time raping when it was time to run. “We don’t have time to waste!”

He was still laughing as they fled towards where they’d hidden the nags.

***

Edward had been trying to plot out the next training schedule when Gwen poked her head into his office. “Captain,” she said, “there’s been a report of a township coming under heavy attack. The Civil Guard is moving to intercept the bandits.”

“Put the ready platoons at the platoon house on alert,” Edward ordered, although he was sure that Gwen would have already seen to it. There were certain orders that always had to be issued. “Have they requested support from us?”

“No, sir,” Gwen said. “Major Grosskopf has requested helicopter support from the spaceport, but he’s made no direct request for our involvement. That may change, of course.”

“Of course,” Edward agreed. He checked his personal weapons out of habit. “Get the Raptors up and ready to fly if we have to move in support.” He glanced up at the training roster and swore. “Contact Jared and tell him to terminate the current exercise; we’re going to need 4
^th
Platoon to join 3
^rd
on QRA. The trainees can practice something else for a while.”

“Yes, sir,” Gwen said. “I took the liberty of warning him that that might be coming.”

Edward scowled. Real battles didn’t end when one side found it convenient, nor were they terminated because the opposing side had to go fight elsewhere. It couldn’t be helped, but it was sending the wrong message to the new recruits. He briefly considered putting them on the defence line and adding 5
^th
Platoon to the QRA force, but they couldn’t be trusted, not yet. Castle Rock would come under attack eventually – it occurred to him that the bandit attack might be a diversion – and by then he intended to be ready.

“Good,” he said. The waiting was always the hardest part of any military operation. “Keep me informed.”

***

George winced as the Rover Armoured Fighting Vehicle ran over a pothole, shaking the entire vehicle badly enough to make him feel sick. The Rover was a locally-produced, build by one of the industries owned by the Wilhelm Family from a design that had been old when spaceflight was young. George wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that Patton, Montgomery or even Lee would have ridden to war in them, even though the Empire had added additional armour and protection for their troops. The masters of lightning warfare would have understood the problem he faced, all right; the Imperial Army had always had the advantage of overwhelming firepower and a stupendous logistic chain. That wasn't true of the Civil Guard.

He peered out of the vehicle as they bounced along the road. By his admittedly imprecise calculations, the bandits would have to pass through a certain area before they could reach the badlands and safety. Alpha Company’s vehicles were moving faster than the bandits could move on their nags and should be able to block them before they escaped. Alpha Company might be only lightly armed compared to a Marine unit, but the bandits wouldn’t have any heavy weapons with them at all. He cursed the terrain as they kept moving forward, knowing that it was closing in on them. The local townships were meant to keep foliage cut back from the roads, but as they weren't paid for the duty, they did it with little enthusiasm, when they did it at all.

The road itself had been going out of shape for years. The indentured workers had constructed it – often escaping and running off to join the bandits – and it was poorly maintained. The ADC had been interested in establishing secure lines of transport into the interior of the continent, yet they hadn’t been interested in the investment required to produce solid roads. The indentured workers and their supervisors had cut corners wherever possible and the roads were decaying badly. George wasn't particularly surprised – it was typical of Avalon – yet the Council had refused to do anything about it. It was as if they wanted to limit communications between the cities and the outlying farms.

Perhaps they just don’t want people running away to the cities
, he thought, sourly. It was something they would have to deal with, somehow.
Perhaps…

A massive explosion shook the entire convoy. A mine had detonated right under the lead vehicle, sending it exploding in a ball of flame. No, he realised, it was more than just a simple mine; they’d emplaced a colossal bomb under the road. Some of the bandits would have worked on the roads and remembered their skills. A moment later, he heard the telltale sound of incoming mortar rounds, just before they started landing on his vehicles. The bastards had the entire area zeroed in!

He dived out of the vehicle and took cover as heavy weapons started to sound out in the distance. God alone knew how the bandits had gotten control of them, but they’d caught all of Alpha Company in a trap. One of the armoured cars drove up on the ridgeline, hoping to provide cover, and exploded as it ran over another mine. George drew his pistol and looked for targets, but the bandits were well dug in, pouring fire down on the trapped soldiers. An armoured car tried to retreat and to find a way around the trap, but a heavy shell landed directly on top of it and blew it to rubble. Was that sheer bad luck…or a smart round? There was no way to know.

Alpha Company started to return fire as training reasserted itself, but George could see that it was already too late. With wrecked vehicles on both sides of the ends of the road, they couldn’t get the other vehicles out until they managed to clear the roads, which would be difficult under fire. The bandits weren't acting like normal bandits at all; they were acting more like soldiers or insurgents. They had Alpha Company pinned down and helpless.

He keyed his radio. “We made enemy contact,” he reported, hoping that the enemy couldn’t jam his signal. Beta Company was nearby and Delta Company would be nearing the Fort. They could probably punch their way out if necessary. “Lieutenant, have Beta Company rerouted to…”

“Beta Company is pinned down, sir,” Lieutenant Spencer reported. “The Fort itself is under attack!”

George felt his mouth fall open. They’d badly underestimated the bandits if they could pull off a successful attack at three different locations at once. The plan struck him as a textbook plan, one guaranteed not to work so well in real life, except he’d allowed his contempt for the enemy to blind him and he’d walked right into it. The bandits probably intended to just keep dropping shells on them until they were wiped out, or perhaps they intended to take the Civil Guardsmen hostage. They had a plan and the ball was firmly in their court.

His radio buzzed. “Sir, this is Hellfire-Three,” a new voice said. “We are inbound to your position; ETA one minute, forty seconds. What are your orders, sir?”

The helicopters
, George realised. Pinned down as he was, it was impossible to get any sense of the enemy positions, but they had to be dug in all around Alpha Company’s position. Had all of the bandits come out to fight? Intelligence’s best estimate was that there were upwards of ten thousand bandits in the badlands, spread out over a wide area. Even a few hundred could have pulled off such an attack, if they had planned it carefully and had access to heavy weapons. Where had they come from?

“I want a full missile spread around our location, danger close; I say again, danger close,” he ordered. There was no time for half measures. “Make one pass and then assume orbit and prepare to give fire support.”

He heard the noise of the helicopters as they flew closer, two massive black objects hanging in the sky. The two helicopters parted, spreading out to start targeting the enemy, when a streak of light shot up from the ground and blew one of the helicopters into a massive fireball. George barely had time to realise what had happened before the second helicopter went the same way. The bastards had HVM missiles! There was only one place on Avalon where they could have gotten their hands on those, he knew, and he swore that if he survived the ambush, he’d tear the Civil Guard apart to find the traitor who’d sold them to the bandits.

But for now, he was trapped.

And the most competent soldiers of the Civil Guard were trapped with him.

Chapter Thirty-One

Superior speed and firepower combined are the keys to victory. One alone may grant you victory; two combined will offer certain victory.

-Major-General Thomas Kratman (Ret),
A Civilian’s Guide to the Terran Marine Corps
.

“The Civil Guard is in trouble, sir,” Gwen said.

Edward nodded, studying the display in front of him. It was easily the most advanced system on the planet – the Civil Guard was bottom of the list for new equipment – yet it wasn't easy to make out what was going on. His team had vectored two satellites to positions from which they could observe what was going on, but nothing seemed to quite add up. The bandits had set a carefully-planned ambush that had, so far, worked perfectly. It wasn't like them at all.

“They had HVM missile launchers,” Edward said, in disbelief. HVM launchers were fire and forget weapons, simplified to the point where a total novice could use one with a few minutes of instruction, yet they were well beyond anything the bandits could have produced for themselves. There were only two places on Avalon where they could have obtained such weapons and both of them were meant to be under strict tight security. The implications of losing launchers from either of them were disturbing as hell. The Civil Guard’s security had to be worse than he had dared imagine.