Sevin sat on the turret of his tank and faced the flat rear deck. The Chiefs sat on camp stools arranged in a half-circle facing him.
“Okay, here’s the deal. We’ll stay on this side of the river and support the light infantry battalion. The mechanized infantry will cross the river and work down the valley from their side.”
Galen stood. “Wouldn’t it be better if we had two equally mixed groups on each side of the valley? I mean, a company of light, a company of mechanized, a platoon of tanks, on each side of the river, the command elements together in a combined TOC with a company of light and a platoon of tanks in reserve—”
“I couldn’t agree more, but the Major and Captain don’t get along too well. Captain Rothschild insisted on maintaining the integrity of his command so I detached myself from his command most quick.”
The infantry carriers pulled out of the defensive circle and moved in column towards the mud of the bank. The vehicles swam across the kilometer-mile wide river, their bilge pumps occasionally gushing a spray of water.
“They should be up to the job but they should wait for us to start our attack before they cross the river.” Sevin shook his head. “The bulk of the enemy strength is on our bank and the enemy vehicles can’t swim.”
“Vehicles?” asked Tad.
“Yes. This group split off from the main Mosh invasion and went deep for some loot and plunder. The Colonel caught them in mid-raid and captured their boats on the ground. Their ships got away but they don’t concern us. Their ground units broke off their raid and ran like hell to this defensive terrain. All we have to do is convince them it’s all over.”
“So we’re fighting Mosh regulars.”
“More or less. This is some sort of splinter group out doing its own thing. The Mosh, they’re fierce but they come apart pretty easy. Just get in there and pour it to them and they’ll usually offer to surrender. But if they have an advantage they’ll really stick it to you. Be careful.”
“Can they whack our tanks?’
“They have tank destroyers with a low silhouette and a gun sticking right out of the front, MS-100s. They also have shoulder-fired anti-armor rockets, flame throwers, cluster grenades with adhesive backing so they can stick to the belly of your vehicle as you run over their fighting positions, and crowbars to pry your hatches open if you let the bastards climb on your tank. Yes, they can whack our tanks. Next question.”
“How many are there?”
“Twelve hundred, about. They have a company of tank destroyers, a battery of armored guns, and two battalions of motorized infantry. Right now most of them are faced off against the rest of the Brigade at the bottom of the valley. We’ll be up against a rear guard at first, until the enemy recognizes us as a major threat. With the greater threat at the other end, the enemy commander would be foolish to commit his entire force against us. But he might commit half of it.”
The first infantry carrier emerged from the opposite bank. It drove up the muddy slope and angled its way through the water maples growing along the bank as it maneuvered to relieve the light infantry company. They looked like little green animated bricks through the haze hanging over the river as Galen watched them from two kilometers away.
“Oh yeah,” said Sevin, consulting his noteputer, “all their weapons are slug-throwers, chemically propelled. And they use internal combustion piston engines, and their commo is digitized radio frequency radiation.”
“So we have a technological edge.”
Sevin looked away, “Not really.”
The last infantry carrier was half out of the water when it exploded. A few seconds later, the shock wave of the explosion caused Galen’s heart to skip. Then the sound of the tank destroyer’s firing reached him, a muffled whump. Another infantry carrier burst into a puff of fire and dust, the spray of dark brown earth spreading from it in a circle a hundred meters across. The troops inside the undamaged carriers scrambled to dismount, to abandon their doomed vehicles. The sound of the second explosion reached Galen before a third carrier blew up.
Sevin faced his Chiefs. “Time to go to work.”
The Chiefs ran to their tanks. The crews were ready in an instant. As his platoon moved to attack, Galen viewed the mechanized vehicles on his main screen, magnified for better scrutiny. The panzer grenadiers abandoned their vehicles and ran forward and sought cover among the fighting positions of the light infantry troops they were supposed to be relieving. Galen watched as one abandoned infantry carrier after another was destroyed. They were all destroyed in less than a minute. Galen checked his auxiliary status screen. The company command vehicle and a squad vehicle were destroyed with the troops still inside.
“Too bad about Captain Rothschild,” said Sergeant Boggs. He was at the auxiliary gunner’s station. Jones drove. Galen stood in the cupola and scanned for targets. The tank destroyer was on his side of the river but wasn’t visible. The computer used the projectile paths to determine the weapon’s type and location and showed it on the situation map. Galen studied the topography and realized the only way to get a clear shot was to swim the river and drive into its kill zone. Or take the time to push down this side of the river and get it from the side. Too bad Captain Rothschild didn’t have tank support when he crossed the river.
Then Sevin’s voice came over the radio, “Hold up. First platoon, hit the outpost.”
The three tanks of Tad’s platoon fired their laser cannons. The marker for the enemy outpost disappeared from the situation map. Galen noticed a momentary glint in the field ahead of him. He switched his main screen to visual scanner and ran the data back a few seconds. When the glint showed again he paused the frame. He magnified the view and could make out the shape of a Mosh soldier wearing a combat suit peering through binoculars. He licked his finger and made a smudge on the image. He switched the scanner feed back to real time. The enemy soldier was still there.
“See that, Boggs?”
Sergeant Boggs looked at the screen. “Looks like a target.”
The diodes made a low hum as Boggs brought the capacitors up to full charge. Galen stood in his cupola and aimed his rail gun until its crosshair image covered the target image on the scanner screen.
“Fire.”
The laser cannon pulsed for a micro-second, with little more recoil than a handheld flashlight. The indicator lights and status screens flickered and then came back to full power. The image from the scanner showed a blackened bare spot surrounded by burning grass. Galen sprayed the area with his rail gun to ensure the kill.
“What was that, three zero?”
Galen sent a visual replay of the target engagement over the net to Sevin, “I bagged a grunt, zero one.”
“Good. Now suit up. We kick this thing off in five mikes.”
Galen pulled his combat suit from the stowage compartment behind his seat and laid it on the outside of the turret. He took off his pistol belt and ground-troop helmet and put them in the compartment then climbed out of the cupola. He gripped the wide neck of the combat suit and stepped into it. He pulled the collar up and worked his hands into the built-in gloves. He climbed back into the cupola and put on the combat suit helmet, connected the power cord, the air inlet/outlet hose and the commo spaghetti cord.
Jones and Boggs were suited up. Galen switched to platoon push. “Status?”
“Two three, roger out.”
“Three three, roger out.”
One three and four three were destroyed on Hobart…
Galen changed to command freq, “Zero one, this is three zero.”
“Three zero, this is zero one, over.”
“Green status. Three zero out.” He left the auxiliary receiver on command net and switched the receiver-transmitter to platoon push.