First Command (21 page)

“Mr. Baker, it is imperative that we do not allow these insurgents to escape. Call the shuttle. Let your fire team know their assistance is needed.”

Baker grunted in reply. A consummate professional, he usually despised space jockeys who thought the brass on their uniform made them master strategist, but Captain Pavel had the correct notion. Activating his com, Baker called the combat shuttle still on the pad at Numgrad.

“Charlie-1 this Alpha-1 over.”

“Charlie-1 here, what’s up LT lot of noise coming from the city, the INT boys are running round here like the house is on fire? Over.”

“Confirm,” Baker replied. “Hostiles have ambushed us, and we’re pinned down, location grid quadrant 22 34 Red. Request immediate support. Over.”

“Roger that LT, we can't raise Centcom. I need an authorization code so AA doesn’t tag me. Over.”

“Wait, One Charlie-1,” Baker said. “Captain,” he said looking at Jonathan, who had a cold compress to his face and was trying to make himself as small as possible against the six wheelers back tire.  “Things have gone tits up all over the place. Our shuttle can’t raise Central Command. They need a command authorization code to ping unless they want the Anti Aircraft units to splash them all over the city.” Nodding, Jonathan put down his compress and looked to Major Fortis, who was unconscious with a bad leg wound, then to Major Garrett, who didn’t seem to be afraid at all. His expression was similar to that of someone trapped in a waiting room.”

“Major Garrett?” Jonathan said.
“Hmmm.. oh yes, code is LLEWORR101 tell your pilot to ping that after take off, and he won't have any problems.”

Baker relayed the information to the combat shuttle.

“You're not scared Major?” Jonathan asked.  

Garrett’s reply was to grin, a nasty menacing grin more fit for a shark.

“Not really no, I was afraid today was going to be boring,” he replied.

Miles away, the Solarian Navy combat shuttle spun up its VTOL engines and took flight, with a pilot, a co pilot, two marines in light combat armor serving as load masters, and four members of
Titan
Fire Team-1 on board. Heavy combat armor was exceptionally expensive, so the men and women qualified to wear it were all veterans with ten or more years in the service, and had endured a grueling nine-month training period to qualify for the armor. Heavy combat armor directly linked into its soldier’s nervous system, making the soldier able to respond as quickly as they would under normal circumstances, or even faster. Still, its size and weight left its mobility a bit limited, and it was of course a bullet magnet, but that didn't stop a host of Marines from volunteering. Officially referred to as Marine Heavy Armor Specialists, their comrades, and everyone else for that matter referred to them as Testudoes. As the shuttle banked sharply toward the point of combat, the three men and one woman encased in armor activated their visors and began to recite a traditional verse every Marine knew by heart and every Testudo said before battle.

“The Army can't fight,

The Navy can't win,

The INT’s all did give up and run.

So whom do they call when they’re flat on their backs?

Who's the hero to them all?

Testudo! Testudo! Testudo!.”

“And how the hell do we go?” Asked Corporal Pullman who was the fire team leader.

Her team replied, “Feet first and balls out!”

“Stand by to drop,” the PFC acting as loadmaster said over coms.

The droplight went to red, and blinked once, twice, and then a third time before going solid green.

“Drop!” the PFC screamed punching the drop button.

The floor under the four Testudoes opened up, and they fell from five hundred feet straight down, all four bit down on their mouth guards so they wouldn't bite their tongues off on impact. At one hundred feet, their breaking rockets slowed them from terminal to what would normally be considered lethal velocity. The Heavy Combat Armor was equipped with insulating gel and shock absorbing artificial muscles. Still when they hit, they hit like a ton of bricks. Two landed in the street, and two crashed into buildings on either side of the street causing small craters, and the building on the left side of the street to collapse. When the Marines landed, they automatically popped smoke grenades, further obscuring them from the insurgents, who fired blindly into the cloud. Then the Testudoes returned fire. Rail guns and auto cannons tore through the brick walls of Haggerdam like tissue paper. What they did to the men and women behind those walls was far worse. One insurgent, no more than nineteen, some poor country girl whose idea of war came from action vids, stepped out from behind cover with a RPG. Just then, the Testudoes that had collapsed the building on the left side of the street burst from the rubble. The Marine inside reached out and grabbed the girl’s head with his oversized maul. She didn't even have time to scream before, squish, her head popped like an over ripe watermelon splattering the Testudo with gore and brains. With the would be insurgents life blood still clinging to his maul, the Marine turned and unleashed his flame thrower against a bakery that held three more insurgents and four cowering civilians. Collateral damage was a problem as old as war itself. The Solarian attitude toward such things was best summarized by the Army’s Motto “Peace through Superior Firepower.” Solarian soldiers from all branches of the service were trained from day one to minimize civilian deaths when possible, but if it meant saving civilians at the cost of your own life, the life of your comrades, or the preserving the life of the enemy, well there wasn't much for it then. As the Testudoes strode toward the enemy, the holo array contained in their visors projected the image of a human skull smiling the death smile. Corporal Pullman’s PA system began blaring a phrase over and over in Helvik the New Helsinkin native tongue. “
Ye das, un Doud an yig U!”
The translation of which Jonathan would later find out was ‘I am death and
I am coming for you.’ The Testudoes appearance combined with their overwhelming firepower was too much for the remaining insurgents, most of who threw down their weapons and fled except for nine that surrendered. Emerging from behind the six-wheeler Jonathan surveyed the situation, “Lt. Baker have your men, and the remaining Provo Police cordon off the area and secure the prisoners.”

“Aye sir” Baker moved to make it so when another loud explosion sounded, and a column of black smoke rose in the distance, followed by another and another, the sound of gunfire could clearly be heard in the distance.

“Major Garrett, if you have access to the local tactical net I’d like to do what I can to assist.”

Garrett smiled, not a pleasant smile, but a passable imitation of a barracuda.

“No need Captain,” He replied looking up.

Following were the OMI Major was looking, Jonathan and his comrades saw a battalion worth of Interior Troop Gunships appearing in the sky before peeling off into twos and fours, no doubt aiming at specific targets.

Looking at Garrett, Jonathan eyes widen in surprise. “You knew?”

“I had a hunch El-Cap, lots of chatter about something big going up when
Titan
arrived. We tried to keep your arrival hush-hush, but things do leak out. So I had the Brigadier deploy a Battalion to Haggerdam under the auspicious of reinforcing the Southwest Highlands.”

“You had them redeployed?” Jonathan said confused. The OMI Major smiled “El-Cap, I’m Special Branch. I do as I please and I always accomplish my goals. My current goal is turning this world into a quiet and compliant friend and client of the Republic. Now, I’ll call your people a lift. The Governor is going to want to hold a crisis meeting. Actually, I am going to need your Marines. I have a SAD detachment, but I need them freed up for something a bit more strenuous than hunting insurgents.”

Jonathan wanted to hit him, badly. The smug bastard had known they might be ambushed, and done nothing to stop it. Rationally he knew hurting the OMI man, as gratifying as it would be, in the long run would only serve to earn him an enemy, and judging by Garrett’s attitude and demeanor possibly a lethal enemy. So instead, he just clinched his fist and nodded,

“Very well Major.”

Glancing at the balled fist that was Jonathan's hand, the OMI man
’
s smile widened a little, “Good choice, Captain.” Without another word, he turned and began talking into his com unit.

Jonathan, Lt. Chan and Lt. Krishna  boarded a G55-79 Kittyhawk scout copter, a very small and nimble craft able to easily take off and land in Haggerdam’s narrow and crooked streets. Lt. Baker and his Marines remained at the ambush site to secure the prisoners and assist where they could. The copter turned and headed toward the Blue Zone, the six square block-fortified complex that housed New Helsinki’s Government House, and the apparatus of state for the Solarian Republic. Beneath them, the city was alive with activity. Interior Gunships vectored in on hot spots, while New Helsinki Provisional Police and Auxiliary Forces secured perimeters around the contested zones. From his vantage point in the copter, Jonathan could see APCs and Light Tanks with New Helsinki Auxiliary markings taking up positions in public areas. Though almost useless in modern armor warfare, those antiquated vehicles did marvels for crowd control. Sirens whined as emergency vehicles moved to and fro through the colorful twisted alleyways of the city, whisking casualties to medical centers. Watching the columns of smoke rise, and listening to the echo of gunfire and explosions, Jonathan reflected on what a shame it was Haggerdam was becoming a war zone. Its colorful low slung buildings, twisting warren like streets, and palm lined plazas, would make it a wonderful place to wander aimlessly, breathing in the sights and sounds of humanity. Redirecting his attention, Jonathan listened intently to the news bulletins coming over the wireless. The pilot of the copter had tuned it to the local Chinglish language news channel, so Jonathan and his colleagues could hear the public announcements through the headphones they’d donned to muffle the sound of the copter’s blades. The announcer was urging everyone to stay in their homes and take shelter, and peppering the airwaves with news bulletins. In response to what appeared to be a coordinated attempted uprising in the Capital, the Prime Minister had resigned, and Governor Li had suspended home rule, and declared martial law. As the copter approached the perimeter of the Blue Zone, it was easy to see that the attacks had not been confined to the streets of the city. The twenty-foot concrete and razor wire security wall, which encircled the Blue Zone, had a gap blown in it that stretched for almost three hundred feet on the western side, and buildings from the surrounding streets had their fronts blown away. Local fire brigades were still extinguishing the blaze, and pulling people from the rubble. Jonathan leaned into the cockpit, and ordered the pilot to circle the area once or twice. Sure enough, the twisted wreckage of a sizable ground truck was evident on the street. Having seen enough, Jonathan ordered the pilot to touch down in the marked landing zone just outside the Governor's residence. The old Ministry of Education building had been converted into a fortified strong point, and nerve center of all activity on the planet, and in the system.

Once the copter touched down, Jonathan leapt off and turned to Sandra Chan who was dismounting behind him. “Ms. Chan, I want you to return and seek out the nearest communications station and get in touch with the ship ASAP. Tell the XO he is to assume command and go to battle stations, and put the remaining Marines on drop readiness.”  Jonathan paused and then said, “Tell Mr. Trendale I have the utmost confidence in him.”  Sandra looked at her commanding officer. Gone was the good-natured cheer and detachment that had dominated him since he’d first set foot on
Titan,
and gone was any hesitation or reservation. Sandra found herself looking at a steel-eyed professional, a real leader.

“I’ll see to it sir,” she saluted and re-boarded the copter, ordering the pilot to convey her to the nearest communications post. Jonathan for his part strode briskly toward the greeting party with Lt. Krishna in tow. The men who had come to collect Jonathan from the LZ were four Interior troops led by a corporal and a skinny little Naval Ensign who wore the crossed shovel and hammer of the Naval Corps of Engineers.

“Sir...,” the ensign spoke hesitantly. 

“You,” Jonathan said with great firmness pointing at the now terrified ensign. “I need your uniform now.”

The ensign’s eyes went wide, “uhh..”

“Come on boy,” Jonathan said grabbing him by the arm and dragging him into the Governor's residence, and towards the nearest washroom door. “Surely you don’t expect me to present myself in this condition,” Jonathan said gesturing to the duty fatigues he was wearing. The ensign unable to argue glumly quit struggling and followed.

Five minutes later, led by the Interior Troop Corporal, a glum fellow named Boris, Jonathan strode into the residence’s Command and Control Center, which are located six stories underneath the residence in a secure reinforced bunker.  The timid ensign’s undress uniform was rather snug, but fortunately for Jonathan while the military saw self-cleaning uniforms as an unnecessary luxury, someone had convinced the MOD that one size fits all uniforms were far more economical than custom tailored ones. The downside, of course, was that the military had sprung for the cheapest nano fabric they could find. So while Jonathan could fit into the ensign’s uniform, it would be a full hour before the tiny machines in the fibers would rearrange themselves so he could fit comfortably.  As Jonathan and Krishna strode into the CIC, they were greeted by what appeared to be nothing short of organized chaos. Technicians ran about the room as computer monitors relayed a constant stream of information.  A grizzled Interior Colonel barked orders, while a war table in the center of the room showed a holo display of the city with information on the pacification of the rebellious areas constantly updating.