Wrath of Axia (The Arcadian Jihad) (22 page)

“How many of them, Sir?” a man asked him.

“Enough for all of us, so don’t worry,” he replied. It was a brave response and an untrue one. There were too many of them, perhaps a thousand ASFVs in all and so many troop carriers, it was almost impossible to count them. Maybe fifty thousand men in all, and supported by around five thousand mobile cannon. Ranged against them, the rebels had a mere ten thousand inexperienced militia, supported by a few hundred marines. They had no ASFVs to take the fight to the enemy and only a few defensive guns on the walls. Not enough.

Blas left the wall to report to Rusal, the news was not good. Rusal had taken over an underground bunker close to the wall, and he was staring at a map with Berg Smetana and Xerxes Tell. There was no need to understate the enemy to these people.

“We’ve got trouble, there are too many of them, too many by far. Unless we do something radical, they’ll overwhelm us.”

“Were not the enemy a huge host, with very many chariots and horsemen? Yet, because thou didst rely on thy God, he delivered them into thine hand.”

They looked at Tell, and he smiled. “Another quote, I’m afraid. Yet the meaning is clear, with enough faith, a man can achieve anything.”

“I’d sooner put my faith in a division of ASFVs and several hundred laser cannon,” Smetana grumbled.

“We’ll have to manage with what we have,” Rusal said crisply. “Constantine, can you man the center of the East Wall?”

Blas nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll do my best to hurt those bastards.”

“Constantine, this is a battle, not a revenge mission,” he warned. “Can I trust you not to do anything stupid?”

Blas nodded. “Of course.”

“I shall direct the battle from here with President Tell. Berg, would you take the mobile assault troops and be prepared to go wherever the enemy hits us hardest?”

Smetana nodded. “I’ll take Max with me.”

“Damn right you will,” Biermann said.

Blas prepared to go back on to the walls. He donned his armor, a new, lightweight breastplate with articulated pieces for the arms and legs. The armor was finished in a dull, mottled black and grey and was supposed to be proof against long-range low-powered laser hits. Nothing could protect against anything heavier. He holstered his laser pistol and picked up his helmet and laser rifle, he was ready. As he walked out of the door, Nightingale appeared.

“Constantine, could I have a moment before you go.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Those two promises you made to Evelyn, I want you to hear the first one now.”

He nodded. “Go ahead, what is it?”

His heart pounded, he was about to hear a message directly from Evelyn.

“Her first request was that you allow Saffron to accompany you as your assistant, so that you will have the power of an Orphexian with you always. She was desperate that you would accept that protection.”

“But, Nightingale, I can’t take a young woman with me on a mission like…”

“You promised, Constantine. Would you break that promise this easily? It is important, to her, to you, to me, to everything.”

“Nightingale, she’s not a soldier, she’s not ready for this, she’s…”

He stopped as Saffron came through the door. She was armed and armored with a pistol in her belt, and the heavy armor and weapons made her look even more tiny and fragile. She carried a laser rifle and a helmet. A stray thought came to his mind, for she looked like a miniature version of a soldier. If her face hadn’t been so serious, he would have smiled. She gazed at him intently.

“Mr. Blas, I have undergone military training on Orphex. I can fight and shoot as well as any man.”

That gentle, musical voice again, it was like a drug.

“You gave your promise, Constantine.” Nightingale said. “She must go with you.”

“What about the second promise?”

“When you are ready to hear it, Saffron will tell you. You can believe me that she will speak with Evelyn’s voice.”

He nodded. Under his breath he muttered, “The stars save us from this regiment of women.”

Blas walked back to the walls, conscious of the incredibly beautiful armored trooper following him.

The enemy had stopped five miles away from Sana, outside of effective range. Their line of armor was formed up in a long line that appeared to stretch to the very edges of the horizon, north to south. With the naked eye it was possible to make out tens of thousands of men and hundreds of heavy guns, moving into position behind the armor. Blas was conscious of the young woman at his side, aware of the smirks from the men under his command. Well, he’d just have to get on with it. The enemy guns opened up suddenly, brilliant laser beams flicked out from the distant host causing the very air between the two armies to become confused, roiling with the intense energy that had been unleashed. The men ducked at the beams hit, smashing against the walls in the first salvos, but the construction of reinforced plasteel, several feet thick, held up. The enemy armor began to advance.

“Hold your fire,” Blas shouted. “Let’s get them to think we’re short of men and guns, bring them to us. When they’re inside a mile, we’ll give them everything we’ve got.”

The walls shuddered to the repeated battering, but they held as the defenders sheltered behind them. A messenger ran up to Blas.

“The factories had a few squadrons of ASFVs in for modification to their armor, so the workers have rushed ahead to prepare them for battle.”

“How many altogether?”

“A hundred and forty three, Sir. They’re waiting close to the main East gate.”

“Crewed and armed?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you, you can tell them to stand by for a sortie.”

It meant he could unleash a counterattack, always provided he could get the enemy on the run. Against a thousand armored vehicles they’d be wiped out instantly, but against a fleeing enemy, running in panic, they would be lethal. He called for his marine commander.

“Captain, we have a chance to hammer them hard, but I need some men out there to hit the enemy armor at close range. Can we do anything about it?”

“It’s a flat plain, so there’s no cover, Sir. We could lay smoke and send out the squads under cover of the smoke to dig in and wait for the armor.”

“Do it.”

They brought up the projectile mortars, used to lob explosives over obstacles when line of sight laser fire was impossible. The shells whistled out over the plain. It soon became a foggy nightmare, impossible to see more than one hundred feet. The marines were waiting, a hundred men in ten squads armed with grenade launchers, enough to stop an armored vehicle. There was no need to give any orders, as these were elite troops. They ran out of the gate and sprinted across the smoke covered ground. They were quickly lost to sight, and Blas prayed they’d be able to dig in fast. The enemy was not wasting any time in racing towards the city, despite the smoke. The incoming fire intensified. They were nearer now and chunks of material started to disappear from the walls. He knew the ASFVs had their own mortars, as soon as they were within range they’d start to lob grenades into the city and spaceport. Then the defenders would really be put to the test. The enemy passed the mile marker and still they came on. Where in space were those marines? If they didn’t stop them soon, they’d be in serious trouble. He couldn’t open fire yet until he knew where they were; he didn’t want to kill his own men. Yet if he didn’t start shooting soon they’d be overwhelmed. They passed the three quarter mile marker and still there was no attack. A massive salvo hit the wall close to where he stood and he tripped, almost falling off the parapet. Saffron was still next to him, with a hand out ready to hold him. He smiled to himself, this little slip of a young woman protecting him. It was ridiculous. If it came to close quarter battle, she’d need to use her mental powers, as physically she would be no match for the enemy soldiers. He wondered about her powers, were they fully developed? Time would tell, but in the meantime where were those marines? He looked over the top again. The armor was approaching the half-mile marker and then, yes, grenades were flying through the air and exploding on the enemy armor. The marines had attacked. The battle developed into swirling confusion as vehicles were hit and came to a standstill, only to be rammed by the vehicle behind. They were slewing all over the line of advance, yet he could see an officer dismount form his ASFV and start to shout orders. A kind of order started to be restored until the marines lobbed a grenade that exploded next to the officer. Yet already the enemy was starting to reform in line abreast ready to continue the attack. The troop carriers, that had stopped and disgorged their soldiers to hunt down the marines, were starting to call them back to restart the attack and roll right over the marines’ position. It was time.

“Send out our armor, tell them to hit the enemy hard, and don’t give them time to reform. Remember, we’ve got our own people out there.”

The gate below them opened. Their vehicles were manned and ready, so they stormed out of the gate and out onto the plain. The enemy was only half a mile away, still trying to reform out of the confusion of the marines’ attack. The rebel vehicles deployed line abreast and started to shoot. At close range almost every shot found a target and more of the enemy vehicles were blasted out of the fight. An officer tried to rally the men and get the troop carriers moving to destroy the marines, so that their armor could continue the attack free of the wasp-like strikes from the dug-in rebels. But the incoming armor was ready to the tactic and Blas’ vehicles began to target the troop carriers. For a time the battle lay balanced between both sides, yet the rebels pressed their attacks home with a confidence that the enemy could not match. It is not easy to go forward into suicidal gunfire, when you suspect that your leaders may have stolen your government in a coup. The enemy turned and ran. They were pursued by the rebel armor, and no longer fired on they took shattering losses from the armor that had poured out of the city in the surprise attack. On the walls Blas looked at Saffron.

“I think we can write that one down as a victory.”

She smiled and stood close to him, so close that he could smell her intoxicating perfume. He’d never known an armed and armored trooper wearing perfume, and he smiled inwardly. They both took off their helmets and Saffron reached up and kissed him on the cheek. She stood back and gave him a steady gaze.

“That was just to congratulate you on your victory, Constantine. Is it alright to do that?”

It was a first he had to admit, being kissed by a soldier. Then he remembered Evelyn and felt that he was betraying her. He scowled.

“Only one other person ever did that to me on a battlefield.”

Her expression sobered. “I’m sorry. I cannot imagine how you must feel. There are things I need to talk to you about. May I come and see you this evening?”

“What things are those?”

“The message from Evelyn.”

“Very well. I need to speak to Admiral Rusal now. We need to make a decision on our next move.”

“May I join you in the command bunker later? I need to go and change first. I assume the battle is ended for the day?”

He nodded. “They won’t come back today, not for some time, not until they reform their forces.”

“Thank you, I’ll only be a few moments,” she whispered in a voice that reminded him again of Evelyn. She returned ten minutes later and entered Rusal’s command bunker. Every man went silent.

She looked so tiny, almost like a child princess, Blas thought. Just like Evelyn. She smiled at the trooper who opened the door for her.

“Thank you,” she said to him in her gentle voice, a voice as soft as the feathers of a young bird.

She walked with her chin slightly raised, looking straight ahead with deep blue eyes that shone with life. She was probably the most stunning creature he had ever seen, that any of them had ever seen. These Orphexian women, where did they get it from? She came to stand beside him. Saffron smiled, looking directly into his eyes. She gazed at him for a fraction of a second more.

He was immobilized, rooted to the floor, stunned. It was more than her elegance, her beauty, something else. A softness he had not expected, a vulnerability he sensed, in her eyes and yet the softness of her voice. The female soldier had reinvented herself in the role of an Orphexian princess, in looks and dress at least. Berg had to nudge Blas to get him over to the briefing where the Admiral was laying plans for the next battle. But her scent was still with him, and he found it difficult to concentrate. She waited at the back of the room. Did she know what effect she had on him?

“We’ve given them a good beating today, and one they didn’t expect. The question we must ask ourselves is obvious. Can we keep it up tomorrow? Mr. Blas, how are your troops holding out?”

Blas shook his head to clear it as he thought back to the morning’s battle. At a stroke, his men had been transformed from a, fearful rabble of militia into a confident army of fighting men. “It couldn’t be better, Admiral. The soldiers and marines are filled with a new hope. They believe they can win.”

Smetana nodded. “They did damn well today, all of them. All I got was complaints from my mobile squad that they barely fired a shot.”