Graham Paul - The battle for Commitment planet

"Oh, yeah. Every last one we can lay our hands on."

"What about the Hammer's tunnel?"

Tek grinned, teeth flaring white in the backlight from the holovids. "What about the-"

A bone-jarring crunch cut her short, then another. Michael flinched as broken rock rained down from the tunnel roof. "Ah," he said when it stopped. "Is that my answer?"

"Sure is. No Hammers will be using that tunnel for a while, and it'll be a while before they bring their hard-rock laser cutters back into play. We've blown the tunnel leading back to the front line as well. It'll be a bloody business mopping up the Hammers, and there are plenty of them, but it's just a matter of time. They've got nowhere to run, and they don't seem to enjoy our tunnels. Wonder why. Right, Sergeant. Move out."

"Watch yourself, Michael," Anna said. Without another word, she turned and left.

Tek patted Michael's arm. "Good luck," she said before following Anna's dusty shape into the darkness.

Michael leaned across to Chengkiz. "Lieutenant Michael Helfort, Corp," he said.

"Good to meet you, sir. Heard a lot about you."

"All lies, Corp, all lies. Now, we don't need two pairs of eyes, so how about I take the first half hour, then you take over?"

"Sounds good to me."

Time dragged; Michael had drifted off into a doze when a soft scraping brought him back to life. "Visitors," he whispered to Chengkiz, setting his rifle to his shoulder. Unlikely to be Hammers, that much he knew, but it did not pay to take chances.

The familiar shape of a Fed combat helmet emerged out of the gloom; it was all the identification he needed. "Anna," he hissed. "How's it going?"

"Fine," she murmured back as she slid into position alongside him. "The barbecues are on their way. It's going to be a bitch to get them through, but somehow I don't think that's going to bother Colonel Mokhine. Never met anyone like him. No such thing as a problem. All he sees are situations and solutions. Amazing."

"So what happens now?"

"Mokhine wants you to pull back to the cross-tunnel once the engineers turn up. You'll find C Company there. Report to them for orders."

"Okay. Shit, hope this works. There have to be ten thousand Hammers waiting out there."

"At least. The last briefing said the Hammers were going to throw at least one hundred thousand marines into the attack." She shook her head. "Hell, maybe there's even twenty thousand out there. Who knows… who cares? See you later."

Leaving the combat engineers to finish up, Michael made his way back down the tunnel past squads of troopers carrying boulders to tamp explosives in place, a pattern of small charges to clear the tunnel mouth of the remaining debris; a millisecond later the barbecues would fire. When Michael had first seen a fuel-air gun-the NRA called the crude assembly of plasteel pipes barbecues because they were perfect for flash-grilling Hammers-it took an effort not to laugh. They looked exactly like what they were: crude and homebuilt, the work of some crackpot inventor.

Crude or not, they worked. Spurred on by a desperate shortage of ordnance, NRA ingenuity made sure of that; Michael had seen the holovid. The damage just one could do was enormous, and Juliet-24 was going to be on the receiving end of six. Each barbecue lobbed a pattern of bomblets into the air, the bomblets' aluminum-boosted fuel command-fired by a flash laser to create an enormous fireball. What the fireball did not kill, massive overpressure and the subsequent vacuum would; that was why they were so devastating in tunnels and caves and why Branxton Base had so many blast doors in its connecting tunnels.

Michael could only hope that they worked, that they took out all the marines in the portal. ENCOMM's planned counterattack would throw two brigades at the Hammers. At best that meant eight thousand troopers, and that was being optimistic given the casualties the NRA must have suffered so far. It would have to be the best ground assault ever planned to have any chance of hurting the Hammers, never mind persuading them to pack up and bugger off home.

Getting Tek's troopers back to the cross-tunnel was not the nightmare Michael had braced himself for, and in a gratifyingly short space of time he was making his way down tumbled rocks. A small team of engineers was putting a blast door in place across the entrance; C Company was waiting in a cave down the cross-tunnel, they said.

The company was a sobering sight, the walls of the cave lined with troopers, most slumped asleep, those still awake staring grim-faced at nothing. Nobody talked. Michael felt for them; the coming battle was one the NRA had to win. Problem was, its chances of defeating all those Hammer marines with only two brigades could not be good; all military logic said so. He found Anna talking to C Company's commander.

"Lieutenant Helfort, sir," he said.

"Welcome to C Company, Lieutenant. I'm Captain Hrelitz."

If Hrelitz shared Michael's doubts, she was not letting it show. "Not long now," she continued, a woman undaunted by the day's terrible events. "ENCOMM says we'll have the charges placed inside the hour, and then I think we'll be showing the Hammers why taking us on on our home turf was a bad idea."

"Can't wait, sir," Michael said.

Hrelitz laughed and slapped him on the back. "You worry too much, Lieutenant."

Michael shook his head. "Not sure I do. There's a shitload of Hammers out there."

"What are we looking at, sir?" Anna asked. "When the 120th was briefed, ENCOMM said we'd be facing a hundred thousand of them."

"Intel says that's about right. That's the bad news."

"There's good news?" Anna said, face tightened into a skeptical frown.

"Oh, yes. ENCOMM says our Gordians hacked at least twenty of those damn landers of theirs out of the attack. That the bastards did not expect."

"Shit," Michael hissed. "Twenty landers? That's a lot of dead Hammer marines."

"Yup, it sure is," Hrelitz said with a savage grin. "Thousands. When will they ever learn not to take us for granted? The other good news is that the Hammers launched three major and five diversionary attacks. We've stopped every one of them, but ENCOMM has just confirmed that the Hammers put something like twenty-five thousand of them into the attack on this sector."

Michael and Anna exchanged glances.

"Sounds like a lot, eh?" Hrelitz said.

"Twenty-five thousand is a lot," Anna said firmly, "especially as we can only muster, what? Eight thousand?"

"No, no," Hrelitz said, shaking her head. "We'll have more than that. ENCOMM's scraped the barrel big-time. The 176th, 44th, and 13th are being transferred from Echo and Kilo sectors."

"Hey, outnumbered less than three to one," Michael said. "What a relief. Why was I worried?"

"My sort of odds," Hrelitz said with a huge grin.

When Anna and Michael responded with halfhearted smiles, the grin faded to a look of grim determination. "Look, guys," Hrelitz said. "I know what you're thinking, but there's more to this than you realize. We're not facing twenty-five thousand marines, not directly, anyway. About twenty percent are rear echelon. Kraa! Maybe even thirty percent. Lander crews, logistics, intelligence, technicians, c-cubed staff, the combat engineers they used to break through our defenses… Shit, the list is endless. One more thing. Most of these Hammer marines haven't seen serious action in twenty years. They've left those poor bastards in the PGDF to do almost all the fighting, and yes, the average marine is tough and well trained, but let me tell you, they are nothing like as tough as an NRA trooper."

"Fair point, sir," Anna said, "but… yes, that still leaves what? More than seventeen thousand of the sonsofbitches waiting for us, not to mention all their armor, artillery, drones, and landers."