Jay Allan - Tombstone

This was it. We knew they’d be coming up behind those clouds, and that this would be the climactic attack. Either we’d hold or they would win.

“OK, Third Company.” Captain Riklis was addressing the entire unit. His voice was steady, and in it I could detect barely controlled anger. His blood was up. This was the first time I’d faced Janissaries, and I wasn’t aware yet just how much of a rivalry we had with them. When Marines faced Caliphate Janissaries there was no quarter even thought of…it was a fight to the death. “I know you’re all tired, and we’ve suffered heavy losses already. And these bastards are fresh. This is going to be one hell of a brawl.” I really liked that he was being straight with us, not sugar coating things. He was rallying us, but with respect. We were professionals; we knew the obstacles to victory, and we were ready to face the challenges and win in spite of them. “But there is no unit – none! – in the whole damned Corps I’d rather have under me today. I know…know with every fiber of my being that whatever comes through that smoke, Third Company is going to be ready…and we’re going to wreck it!”

Before I joined the Corps, before I ended up on a battle line waiting for an enemy to come and try to kill me, I never thought about how words could affect me. They were just words, after all. But when he was done I was so worked up I’d have faced the entire enemy force alone if I had to. I’ve never figured out whether it’s real confidence a leader like that inspires or just mind games that provoke a response, but I never forgot how it made me feel, just when I needed that extra bit of courage. I would be giving a version of that speech many times myself in the years to come, and I would fight with other officers whose ability to rally troops would astonish me. But that day I was on the line with the captain and the lieutenant, and as far as I was concerned, no Caliphate force ever made was going to make me let them down.

I crouched down, digging my foot into the grayish gravelly dirt and pushed up against the rocky spine, bracing myself and aiming my mag-rifle out at the hazy, faintly glowing clouds. My AI would take whatever bits of data my scanning devices could glean and combine it with the info gathered by the rest of the platoon, giving me the best guess at where enemy troops were approaching. The smoke was very effective, but it wasn’t perfect cover. Troops moving through would disturb the clouds, at least somewhat, and if the AIs could factor out the wind and weather-caused effects, they could actually do a decent job of finding concentration of troops coming forward.

“Ok, platoon.” The lieutenant’s voice was calm, even more so than the captain’s. “You men and women are the best soldiers in the field, anywhere. Janissaries are good troops, but they aren’t that tough. They can’t be that tough, because they’re not Marines!” His style was a little different than the captain’s. His voice was relaxed, almost like a teacher in a classroom, but then all of a sudden he’s amping it up and getting us whipped into a frenzy. “We’re going to do the work, platoon. I want everybody to focus. I’m going to call out enemy locations as we have them.” He paused. “And we’re not retreating, no matter what. Anybody who leaves their position won’t have to worry about Janissaries; they’ll have to worry about me!”

My AI started projecting figures in front of me, the shimmering blue images displaying percentages projecting the location of enemy troops. We didn’t have enough data to get any solid leads yet, but there were a couple spots north of 40% probability. I started firing some bursts at these locations, and I could tell that a few others were doing the same. I didn’t know if I hit anything – probably not - but it was worth expending a little ammo in the effort.

The auto-cannon didn’t open up yet, though. It was an extremely effective weapon on defense, and the lieutenant didn’t want to give its position away too soon. With any luck, the enemy would blunder right into the center of the field of fire. Their own scanners were compromised by the smoke too, so they couldn’t really attack with any precision.

I’d been scared to death before the attack started, as I always was, but now I wasn’t really thinking about that anymore. I was so focused and so pumped up by the captain and the lieutenant, the fear morphed into a nervous energy, an edginess that made it hard to stand still. I could hear my heart beating in my ears like a drum.

“Enemy troop concentrations.” The lieutenant, still totally calm. My God, doesn’t anything rattle him? “Transmitting coordinates. Open fire.”

The enemy troops were off to my left, but I had a clear line of fire, so I switched to full auto and sprayed the area. The mag-rifle had enough kick to knock a man over, and probably break his arm as well, but in armor you just felt a small vibration. I emptied an entire clip into the smoke, and the autoloader slammed another one in place with a loud click.

A few seconds after we started shooting, the enemy opened up. Their position given away, the advancing troops had no reason to continue to hold their fire. They couldn’t aim any better out of the clouds than we could into them, but our entire front was saturated with fire. It was clear there were a lot of troops coming at us.

I crouched lower as the rock wall in front of me was blasted with enemy fire. Shards of shattered stone bounced all around, but the outcropping was thick enough to provide cover, and other than some rocks bouncing loudly off my armor, I was fine. I could tell from the chatter on the com that 1st Platoon on our left had some casualties…they probably got careless when they were firing and didn’t get down quickly enough.

We got locations on two more enemy troop concentrations, and when they all opened up we were well into a serious firefight. Even with our cover, we were taking losses. I assumed we were inflicting them too, but it was hard to tell. All of this seemed like an eternity, but only a few minutes had passed since the enemy launched the smoke and started their attack.

They started to emerge from the smoke. It was surreal watching them move forward, zigzagging as they jogged toward our trenches. Their armor was similar to ours, a little bulkier, maybe, and the alloy they used was a little different, giving the suits a darker look. They didn’t have the camo system we did, and their suits were dark silhouettes against the glowing clouds as they came forward.

Their formations were scattered, with significant gaps. I could see they’d taken considerable losses from our fire. Their assault doctrine was well thought out, and they executed it flawlessly. One group would find the best cover they could – low ground, rocks, gullies – and open up on our position with everything they had. A second line would advance, supported by this covering fire, and find their own protected areas. They would then start shooting while the first group advanced. It was a standard leapfrog tactic, but they were so well drilled they could maintain enormously heavy fire while leaving precise lanes open for their advancing troops. I couldn’t help but admire the discipline and skill, even if they were trying to kill me.

But we knew our stuff too, and we targeted the units moving ahead, ignoring the covering fire. We were taking heavier losses, but it was still the best exchange rate we’d get; if they got to our lines and broke in we’d lose our positional advantage…and there were more of them than us.

There was a crack in the rock wall next to me, and I was able to lie down and shoot through a very small opening. It was great cover, and gave me a wide coverage area. They were getting close, so I switched to semi-automatic and started targeting individual troops with 10-shot bursts. I didn’t have a sniper’s rifle, but I managed to take down a target just about every time I shot. I must have dropped 7 or 8 when I realized we weren’t going to turn them back.