My class had been together for a long time, and I think we would have liked to serve with some familiar faces, but new recruits were generally assigned in small numbers to existing commands. We got parceled out to units all over Alliance space, and I was the only one sent to my new company.
A week after graduation I boarded a transport, and two months later I got bolted into a lander and blasted out into the upper atmosphere of Carson's World. It was the beginning of a long journey.
Chapter Four
“Cain, pull your troops back to the refinery. Fast. The whole company’s falling back.” Sergeant Barrick’s voice. Great. That meant that all the officers were down.
I snapped out a series of orders to my acting fire team leaders, telling them to retreat in hundred yard intervals, one team covering the other while they fell back. Between the smoke and the confusion I couldn’t be certain, but my best guess was the company had already lost about half its strength.
We were in the middle of Operation Achilles, the invasion of Tau Ceti III. That may have been its official name, but to us it was a fucked up mess, colloquially known as the Slaughter Pen.
It was my seventh mission since the Carson’s World assault and I’d made the last three as assistant squad leader. A few days earlier an enemy frag grenade had made me acting squad leader. Sergeant Thompson wasn’t dead, but with both legs blown off he wouldn’t be leading the squad anymore either.
By this time the undeclared war we’d been fighting for fifteen months had become official. The Third Frontier War had begun in earnest, and we’d been pretty roughly handled so far. We’d lost two major land battles and a half-dozen mining colonies, and the navy had suffered a pretty serious defeat at the Algol warp gate. With the fleet on the run there were several dozen colonies cut off without support or resupply.
The war had been tough on my squad too. Wilson killed in the raid on Altair V. Kleiner dead on some miserable asteroid in the 61 Cygnus system – she was only hit in the leg, but decompression and cold killed her before we could do anything. Gessler, Andrews, Worton, and Stanson wounded and in the hospital. Will Thompson and I were the only ones remaining in the squad from the Carson’s World mission to hit the dirt of Tau Ceti III, and now there was only me.
The Tau Ceti III mission was supposed to be a big start toward regaining our momentum and turning the tide. Instead, it almost lost us the war.
The planet was the Caliphate's largest and most important colony. Operation Achilles was the most ambitious planetary attack ever attempted. The initial landing by four full assault battalions was supported by a division of regular marines, British special forces, planetary militias drafted from nearby systems, a couple units of allied Russian commandos – almost 25,000 troops in all. Achilles took every ship Fleetcom could muster plus three dozen civilian craft commandeered for the operation.
Everything went wrong from the start.
The huge concentration of Fleet units managed to take out the orbital and ground-based installations, albeit at a heavy cost. Then, it was our turn – over 2,000 assault troops in the first wave.
About five minutes after we launched we realized that the bombardment had been a lot less effective than the reports had indicated. The enemy had a prepared network of strongpoints connected by deep tunnels, and it turned out these were mostly untouched.
First came salvo after salvo of surface to air missiles, launched from super-hardened underground silos that had survived the orbital attack. Our launch procedure was designed for an assault against heavy resistance, and the sky was filled with debris, decoys, and every manner of ECM device. They still managed to shoot down about 15% of our landing ships.
The initial plan called for us to secure a perimeter and set up a makeshift landing area for the heavy forces. As soon as we hit ground the word came down – we had to take out some of those missile sites first, assaulting the bunkers one by one.
The logic was sound – if they’d managed to shoot down 15% of our agile 5-man landers the heavy troopships and tank carriers would get blown away. But it still meant launching a series of search and destroy missions against very long odds. Infantry, even powered infantry, going up against an enemy armed with tanks and artillery can expect to take it hard. And we did. Very hard.
To make matters worse, while our troops were hitting the missile sites the enemy was hitting us, trying to snuff out our foothold before we could bring in reinforcements. The fighting went on for three days without a break. It was a damn close race, but we just managed to knock out enough of their missile capacity that the General decided to launch the phase two landing. By that time most of our units on the ground were down to 50% strength.
Air cover was critical during these early days. We had established total air superiority over the entire planet on the first day. Atmospheric fighters launched from our orbiting fleet carriers conducted continuous sorties throughout those first three days, providing crucial support to our efforts on the ground and annihilating the enemy air forces.
The high command had been certain about our control of the sky, but the enemy had another surprise ready when the first wave of heavy landing ships came in. They had maintained a large reserve of aircraft in a hidden underground base, and these were launched in a single massive strike against the inadequately escorted landers. They were mostly antiquated cargo planes reconfigured to carry batteries of close range air-to-air sprint missiles. Against fighters they would have been annihilated, but as launch platforms targeting landers armed only with point defense lasers the result was disaster – less than half of the first wave made it to the surface. In addition to the loss of almost 3,000 troops and 80 tanks, the attack resulted in the destruction of a large percentage of our available landing craft, retarding our ability to get the rest of the force down to the surface.
Fleetcom responded quickly, and Admiral Scheer scrambled every atmospheric fighter we had. They didn’t arrive in time to save the landers, but they did manage to intercept the enemy aircraft as they were returning to base. Outgunned, outclassed, and low on fuel, the enemy planes were wiped out.
While the air battle was raging, the enemy launched another full scale attack all along our perimeter. We had to fight desperately to hold on while feeding in reinforcements from the surviving landing craft. We came very close to being overrun, but just as our lines were caving in at all points a wave of our refueled and rearmed aircraft halted the enemy attack. I have to commend the pilots. They flew mission after mission, utterly disregarding the devastating AA fire from the ground, and they saved our asses.
By planetary nightfall, the enemy was pulling back to their starting positions. Our casualties were high, not least among the fighters, who lost a third of their number in six hours of sustained combat, on top of 50% casualties they had suffered previously in the campaign. Only one in three were still flying.
My company had been assigned to landing facility construction and defense, so we had suffered comparatively few losses to this point. We hadn’t seen any combat until that afternoon when the enemy almost penetrated to the landing areas. Even then we were defending prepared positions, and my squad suffered only two casualties – both wounded. But one of these was Will Thompson, and when he went down I inherited the squad.
With many of the heavily engaged units down to 25% of their initial strength, our company was rotated into the front lines the next morning. We marched through a hellish scene of destruction, and the ground was so cratered and full of debris it was difficult to make progress, even in armor. But we picked our way methodically through the wreckage and the ravaged landscape, and we reached our assigned position right on schedule.