After he rescued General Holm, they escaped the Centauri system in Vance’s Torch and set a course for Armstrong. Cain had commanded the garrison there for almost two years, and he was confident they would rally to him. The Corps was in disarray, shaken to its very core by the treachery of General Samuels. Some Marines were still under Samuels orders, unaware that he had sold himself to Alliance Intelligence; others were declaring for Holm. Many supported the rebels on the various colony worlds, while others blamed separatist extremists for the destruction of the Academy, an act actually perpetrated by Alliance Intelligence to sow dissension and confusion in the Marine ranks. There were even rumors that Marine contingents were fighting each other on some of the Rim worlds, but Cain wouldn’t believe it. Not unless undeniable proof forced him to.
When they arrived at Armstrong they found a battalion of Directorate troops there already, and the Marines under orders from General Samuels to disarm. Erik’s old garrison had been reluctant to follow the unorthodox command and had delayed. They rallied instantly to his impassioned plea, and when the Directorate troops finally attacked, Erik’s Marines were ready. The battle was short and bloody – there was no time for finesse. The Marines crushed the less experienced Directorate troops and secured control of Armstrong.
Now he was finally about to land on Arcadia, answering the request he’d received from Will Thompson so long before. He had a rump battalion with him, about 400 strong. It was all he could spare and still hold Armstrong, and it was all the transport capacity Garret could get him on short notice anyway. But he’d put 400 of his veterans up against any force in occupied space.
Erik had launched a spread of probes, giving him a snapshot of the tactical situation on the planet. From what he could tell, the rebels were on the verge of defeat, pursued into the wilderness by the Directorate troops. The armored federal soldiers had been hunting down the exhausted and ill-equipped Arcadian forces. Things were about to change, though. Now they would have to face Erik Cain and his veteran Marines. Cain was outnumbered at least 4-1, but he’d match up one of his vets against any four Directorate hacks ever made.
It felt good to be back in his armor, back doing what he was trained to do. It was even a pleasure to have Hector nagging him again, though a couple years of inactivity had done nothing to improve the AI’s eclectic personality.
“Cut the shit, Hector.” Arguing with the virtual assistant felt just like old times. “I know we have very little information, but when we hit ground, I want you to work on connecting me with the rebel communications network.”
“Of course, general.” Hector’s voice was the same as always, calm and professional. There was a slightly obnoxious element to it as well, or at least Cain always thought so. “That is an obvious mission parameter. I was merely trying to advise you that it will be extremely difficult since we have very little information to utilize in making the linkup.”
The AIs were designed to develop personalities in response to those of the officers they served. In theory, this created a customized assistant compatible with the Marine, thereby reducing stress in the combat zone. In practice, there were occasionally unpredictable results.
Cain didn’t see any point in continuing the conversation; Hector knew what he needed to do. His visor was down, but he could see the launch status on the shimmering display projected on the inside of his helmet. They’d just been pressure-coated with heat-resistant foam. In less than a minute, they’d be on the way down to the surface.
“Second line, forward now!” Cain barked out the orders, and 100 Marines jumped out of their makeshift cover and jogged forward, covered by heavy fire from the first line. “Advance two hundred meters and assume firing positions.”
The Directorate troops were arrogant at first, anxious to take on Cain’s newly arrived Marines, especially since they had a massive numerical advantage. But the maneuverability and precise fire control of Erik’s people was proving to be too much for them. Now he had about a thousand of them trapped, bracketed against the mountains.
He had to be careful – the Feds he had trapped outnumbered his attacking troops almost 3-1. But in the last week he’d completely taken the initiative from the Directorate forces. They had considered themselves an elite unit, but now they were facing real combat veterans equipped as well as they were. In seven days, Cain and his Marines had completely shattered the morale of the federal forces.
The Marines had losses too, but they’d been fairly light. Erik had made maximum use of the training and experience of his troops, keeping constantly on the move, stinging the enemy and pulling away before they could hurt him. But now he’d maneuvered them where he wanted them. This would be the battle of annihilation.
“Second line, commence firing. First line, forward now!” He was leapfrogging forward, pushing the federals up against the rugged terrain to their rear. His troops were coming in from the center and right, forcing the enemy back and to the left. There was a hole there, or an apparent one. Cain had placed all his heavy weapons – SAWs, rocket launchers, mortar teams – in a depression just back from the opening in his line. He was baiting the enemy to pour through that breach…and right into the perfectly prepared fields of fire.
The Directorate troops had the numbers, but they’d been completely unnerved by a week of fighting Cain’s Marines. The aggressiveness of the Marines’ tactics was unlike anything they had ever seen. If they’d dug in and fought it out, their numbers might have carried the day, but their morale was broken. Unable to stand against the advance of the Marines, they poured right through the gap Cain had left for them…and they were massacred by the hidden heavy weapons. By nightfall the Directorate forces on Arcadia were crushed. There were small packets of troops holding out here and there, but as a fighting force they were finished.
“Kyle Warren.” Cain had popped his helmet, and he wore a broad smile on his face. “I see my efforts to make something useful out of you were not entirely wasted.” His smile morphed into a wicked grin.
Warren walked over to Cain. He was tired, his uniform torn and filthy. “General Cain.” His exhausted expression gave way to his own smile. “It is good to see you, sir.” He stood at attention, at least as much as his partially-treated wounds would allow, and he snapped off a textbook Marine salute.
“I’d give you a damned hug, Warren, if I didn’t think I squash you like an overripe tomato.” Both men laughed. Erik Cain wore his armor like a second skin, and they both knew it. He could have juggled peaches without bruising one.
“I don’t mind telling you, sir, you got here just in time.” Warren was thrilled to see Cain, but he had trouble keeping the bone-deep fatigue out of his voice.
“Not in time to save Will Thompson, I understand.” Cain’s smile faded, his voice turning wistful.
Kyle shook his head. “No, sir. I’m afraid not.”
Cain sighed. “He’s not the first friend I’ve lost, but it doesn’t get any easier.” He looked at Warren, and he could see how devastated the officer was about Thompson’s loss. He’d seen the same thing in all the other Arcadians he’d spoken with. Not just grief, but a somber reverence as well. “Will and I went way back. He was a Marine, that’s for sure.” He paused, his mind wandering back twenty years, to battlefields far from Arcadia. “And a friend.”
“That he was, sir.” Warren forced a tiny smile to his lips. “That he was.”
“I’ve gotten a partial history, Kyle.” He looked at Warren respectfully. “You and Will and your people have done something remarkable here. I know how much you paid; I know it as well as anyone could.” He took a short breath. “You should be proud. Of yourselves as well as Will.”
“Thank you, sir.” Warren’s voice was cracking slightly. He wasn’t prone to overly emotional responses, but Erik Cain was a hero to him, a legend. The praise meant more to him than Cain could ever know. “It means a lot to hear that, sir.” He paused. “For Will too.”