The cool outside air felt great, and I climbed out, feeling as always a bit like a snail wiggling out of its shell. My kit was strapped to the back of my armor, and I opened it up and pulled out a uniform and boots. The room was full of naked marines doing the same thing. We got dressed, and our kits were moved to our billets while we headed over to the briefing dressed in wrinkled but clean gray field uniforms.
Mostly the colonel repeated what he had told us on the landing field, but we got a bit more detail. First, we got some hard intel. The enemy was definitely going to attack, and probably within the next two weeks. And it was going to be a significant force. We didn't have solid numbers, but it was a good bet we'd be hard-pressed to hold out.
Second, Colonel Holm had been far from idle. He'd had most of the civilians conscripted into labor battalions to help build defenses. The interlocking grid he had in mind was a lot closer to finished than I'd thought when he first mentioned it. Having just faced something very similar on Tau Ceti III, I wasn't about to underestimate the effectiveness of hardened defenses, especially under a commander like Holm.
Our supply situation wasn't ideal, particularly among the powered infantry units. Because our weapons had access to the energy generated by our suits, we were able to put out a lot of firepower. But this time we were low on ammunition, so we'd have to make our shots count. This was another reason why the colonel wanted to hold us as a surprise attack force. We'd be able to conserve ammo and use it when we could hit the hardest and make it count.
After the initial briefing we went into a question and answer session. The colonel asked for input and opinions, and then surprised me even more when he knew most of our names and could identify us by sight. This guy was one hell of a leader. Sometime in the last day or two he'd accessed the personnel files from the Gettysburg computer and committed to memory the face and name of just about every officer and non-com.
We spent the next two hours or so looking at maps, reviewing proposed deployments and going through a few scenarios for ways our units might exploit opportunities. This was the first time I'd ever been in on an overall battleplan, and it made an impression on me that Colonel Holm not only wanted to familiarize us with it, but he also asked for comments and input.
When we broke up I headed across the landing field to the billeting area. Our troops had been housed in what looked like a dormitory for workers. I had just about enough time to check on the troops before evening mess.
Everything checked out. The troops were all settled in. In fact, most of them had grabbed a couple hours sleep while we were at the briefing. Good. I wanted them to get as much rest as possible while they could. We'd had a lot of downtime on the Gettysburg, but resting on solid ground is different than on a spaceship. Between the variable gravity, the acceleration/deceleration periods, and very cramped quarters, rest on a ship was never very restful, at least it never was for me.
No one was still asleep when the mess hall opened though. Since it wasn't a combat landing we didn't have to do the intravenous feeding before, but they still didn't give us breakfast before we embarked, so it had been almost 24 hours since we'd eaten. Except what we'd stashed, of course. They didn't feed us, but we weren't under orders to avoid eating as we would be before a drop. And marines always have food stashed someplace. I'd eaten a couple energy bars I had stashed, and most of the troops were significantly better scroungers than I was.
After mess I went back to my billet and crashed. I only intended to rest for an hour or so, but I just passed out, and it was morning before I stirred. The rest did me some good, and when I got up I felt quite a bit better than I had.
I got the troops organized after breakfast mess and formed up on the field to get our work assignments. We could move mountains in our armor, but the fighting suit wasn't exactly designed for precision construction work, so we were ordered to report in our fatigues.
There was a curving line of large rocky hills - not quite small mountains - around the outskirts of the capital. Weston was certainly going to be a target of the attack, and the ridge line ran along the flank of any approach to the city. An enemy moving against Weston would be caught between the flanking force on one side and the sea on the other.
Between the hills and the ocean was a broad, flat expanse of plains, mostly used for agriculture by the colonists. It was really the only land approach, so the enemy would have to come that way if they wanted to hit the capital. And most of the planet's power generation and communications infrastructure was centered in Weston. If you wanted to control the planet you had to take the city.
Colonel Holm had constructed an extensive system of tunnels and underground bunkers beneath the hills, enough to hide at least 1,000 troops. Unfortunately, he only had about 600 of us to deploy there, so we didn't waste any time enlarging the network. Instead we worked on camouflaging the whole setup. If we could convince the enemy that they were only facing the entrenched militia in front of the city, we might achieve a real tactical surprise.
The tunnels were hopefully deep enough to avoid being detected by enemy scans, but it wasn't practical to dig far enough down to be sure. So the colonel ordered the hillsides seeded with powered Iridium, which included a sizable portion of radioactive Iridium 192. This would require a large cleanup later, but for now it would interfere with enemy scans of our position.
Rare on Earth, Iridium was one of Columbia's major exports, a fact very well known to the enemy, so hopefully our ploy wouldn't raise any undo suspicions.
We moved supplies and ammunition into the bunkers so they were ready to be occupied on a moment's notice. We even had a basic communications line creating a physical link between the main positions in the event that all our other comm was jammed.
Ten days later we got to test out our deployments for real. The monitoring satellites around warp gate two sent their warning via a relayed comm laser. The enemy was here.
There wouldn't be any naval battle; there wasn't an Alliance warship in the system. Columbia did have an orbital defense station and a string of x-ray laser satellites. The system was mostly automated, but there was a crew, and they had to realize that they were on a suicide mission. Without naval support there was no way that the planet's limited defense array could hold off a battlefleet.
The orbital fort's weapons, though limited in number, were heavier than those on any mobile platform, so the enemy would have to enter the station's range to attack it. At least the crews would get to fight back before they were overwhelmed and destroyed. Small comfort, but something at least.
It took two days for the incoming fleet to reset its vector and reach attack range. By the time they engaged the station, my men and I were deployed deep in our bunkers. I followed the battle in space on the command comm line, with my AI displaying some helpful graphics on my visor.
The orbital station was essentially a missile platform, and the weapons it fired were multi-stage, with a significantly greater effective range than shipboard equivalents. Before the enemy got to its own launch range, our missiles were already entering their point defense zone. The station fired all 200 of its weapons, and 16 of them found targets. One CAC battleship was destroyed, and four other capital ships were heavily damaged.
The return salvo was a little ragged as only one of the damaged ships was able to immediately fire. But there were still over 300 missiles inbound, and with no maneuverability the result was a mathematical inevitability. The station's countermeasures were very effective. Short-ranged pulse lasers savaged the incoming spread, and point defense missiles detonated, strewing the path of the incoming projectiles with FLAK.