Salvage Marines (Necrospace Book 1) Page 11

  “Let’s get some height! Samuel and Ben take that hab-block and get me eyes on the rest of this colony!” ordered Mag as she and the rest of the squad came through the gap. “Patrick and Bianca on me. We’re going to make sure nobody comes up behind our boys.”

  Samuel and Ben rushed towards the hab-block only to be beaten there by the wargir, now carrying his freshly reloaded rail gun. The wargir took point and blasted a trooper who had been hiding in the ruins, apparently afraid to join in the fighting, but unable to escape.

  Samuel was taken aback for a moment at how swiftly and effortlessly the mercenary had eliminated the man. It was likely any one of the mercenaries would have done the same. The speed at which the merc weighed the man’s life was astonishing. The wargir took more small arms fire as he reached the second floor, and with Samuel’s help the two of them gunned down another trooper who looked to have been attempting to assemble a mortar launcher.

  The two marines and the elite managed to reach the top of the four-story building without any additional resistance. As they took up observation positions on the rooftop they were indeed able to see the unfolding battle as a complete tableau. The combat speeders still circled the colony, though they had, for the most part, ceased firing on the enemy positions, as they were now mostly overrun.

  The Helion battle tank was a smoking wreck, apparently torn apart by a series of explosive devices placed across its side. There was some fighting in the streets as marines and elites moved through the colony, though not nearly as much resistance as Samuel would have thought. From the look on Ben’s face it seemed as if he agreed.

  “Something is not right,” muttered the wargir as he tapped his com-bead, “This should have been a harder fight.”

  Samuel could see the wreckage of one other combat speeder and wondered if it had disgorged its soldiers before being shot down. Through the smoke and dust it did seem as if the assault smashed the defenses and routed the enemy much more swiftly and with fewer casualties than he would have imagined. That was when Ben tapped on Samuel’s shoulder and pointed. The wargir and the marines looked out as explosions of sand and dust shot skyward across the valley floor. Helion elite troopers, positioned in portable launch tubes buried in the sand dunes surrounding the colony burst from their hiding places and began firing on the Grotto forces as they sailed through the air. As the elites arched towards the colony, groups of Helion troopers erupted from within several of the, as yet, uncontested buildings and began retaking the colony.

  Because the Grotto forces were thinly spread out and still heavily engaged across the colony, the Helion forces superior numbers and firepower turned what had seemed like an easy victory into an all-out melee in a matter of moments.

  The wargir shouted a battle cry and took up a firing position that allowed him to spray rail rounds into an advancing squad of Helion troopers, managing to put three on the ground before their return fire drove him back into cover.

  Ben rushed to the far right side of the wargir’s position to open up on the squad, felling another as the last trooper was driven into the first floor of the very building the marines held. More shooting came from inside and Samuel was positive that Mag and the others had eliminated the last trooper.

  Samuel could see that as the Helion elites used their gravity dampeners to make landfall, the Grotto elites moved to intercept them on the other side of the barricades. The elites ripped into each other like armored titans as they ignored the marines and troopers around them, the lesser soldiers suddenly insignificant compared to the epic conflict of the elites.

  Samuel reloaded his spent magazine and watched as the elites warred against each other, one peerless warrior finally pitted against worthy opponent.

  The troopers and marines steered clear of the elite engagements on open ground and found themselves being drawn into more conventional firefights in the tight confines of the colony.

  Three Helion elites made landfall near the hab-block, one on the roof adjacent and the others in the street below. Samuel saw the wargir with the horned helmet standing out in the open on the main street firing his heavy gun and tearing apart one of the enemy elites who landed in the street before being fragged himself by fire from the elite on the rooftop.

  The mercenary that stood with Samuel leapt across the alleyway as he fired and by the time he landed on the adjacent building the enemy elite was a rent corpse. The wargir began firing at another target on the other side of the building that the marine couldn’t see. When gunfire erupted downstairs, Samuel left the wargir to his fate and rushed to the levels below. As Samuel raced downstairs Ben continued to fire at more Helion troopers from the rooftop, doing his best to keep the hab-block from being overrun.

  As the gunfire continued and Samuel finally reached the first floor, he was met with a savage engagement. Patrick was crouched behind a row of bullet riddled laundry machines as he exchanged fire with two Helion troopers. The body of a third lay midway between them and the marine’s position.

  The armored body of the Helion elite who had escaped the horned wargir’s barrage was laying in the middle of the room bleeding from what must have been a tremendous amount of concentrated fire.

  Bianca was bleeding from two ragged holes in her chest armor, but was heroically dragging Mag into cover. Samuel raised his rifle to his shoulder and emptied his magazine with disciplined precision as he walked down the remaining stairs one methodical step at a time. His first several rounds put a Helion trooper dead on the ground as more fire pushed the last trooper from his cover, then combined shots from Patrick and Samuel finished him off.

  Samuel reloaded his combat rifle with detachment as his mind worked furiously to comprehend what he was seeing. He slung his rifle and said, “Patrick, you take over watch, I’ve got Kade.”

  Samuel leaned over Mag and began working swiftly to address Bianca’s wounds. His med-kit appeared in his hands and he worked with a speed and precision that he’d never experienced before. He continued not looking at Mag and focused on his work as he spoke.

  “When your heavy runs dry, Takeda, fall back to our first floor position,” he said as he dosed Bianca with the stim cocktail, removed the marine’s chest plate, and began addressing the ragged holes in her body, “There’s a rail rifle down there, take possession and you’ll still be effective as our heavy. We’re moving in five.”

  Both marines tapped their com-beads in silent affirmation and Samuel finished his work on Bianca. The marine leaned against the wall and held her combat rifle across her lap as Samuel stood up and finally willed himself to look down at Mag.

  The veteran’s body was a bloody mess, having been shredded by a flurry of projectiles from the Helion elite’s rail gun. It was likely that Bianca was in such a state of shock from being shot that she didn’t realize she was dragging a corpse to safety.

  Ben pounded down the stairs, his empty heavy gun slung across his back, and stopped just short of the bottom when he saw Mag’s body. He and Samuel looked at each other for a silent moment before Ben nodded and walked over to the armored corpse of the Helion elite. As Ben stripped the rail gun from the elite’s dead hands and began to collect the projectile drums, Patrick set about looting the bodies of the other Helion troopers. Samuel recovered a single magazine from Mag’s body, which he slid into one of the empty holders on his thigh mount.

  “That’s odd,” Patrick commented, “The ammunition on these Helion jokers is the same mil-spec as ours,” He ejected a magazine from one of the enemy rifles and investigated the bullet, “Oh, wow, even the same manufacturer, Fenrir Industries, just like us.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” grumbled Ben as he stood up, continuing to tinker with the fittings on the gun, mimicking the movements he’d seen the wargir use to slot in the fresh projectile drum and prime it for firing.

  “It makes sense, Fenrir Industries has no known interests in this system, even in this sector,” said Samuel in a low voice as he scanned the streets for enemy troopers, all of who
m seemed to, thankfully, be engaged elsewhere in the colony, “So they’d see no conflict of interests in selling ammunition to both Helion and Grotto. It would just be another transaction in their books.”

  “That’s grim, man,” said Ben as he joined Samuel in looking out into the street, “So what’s the plan, Boss?”

  At the unexpected designation Samuel looked at Ben. The heavy gunner pointedly continued to look out at the street. Samuel looked back at Patrick, who stood on the other end of the small room. He nodded at Samuel as he chambered a round in his combat rifle. Samuel took a deep breath and leaned down to help Bianca to her feet, bracing her on his shoulder as she did her best to hold onto her combat rifle with her off hand.

  “When I was on the roof I saw one of the wargirs, the one with the mini-gun, walking past what looked like a Helion machine gun nest. He’d already wasted everybody in it, but from where I was standing it looked stout, better than staying here,” Samuel said as he started moving toward the shattered back door of the hab-block. “It’s a hardpoint, with several guarded fields of fire and it gets us back into the fight.”

  “Sounds good to me, Boss,” confirmed Patrick as he leaned out to quickly check the alleyway, then gave the all-clear signal, “I’ll take point.”

  Patrick ducked out of the doorframe and into the alley, immediately putting his back to the wall of the opposite building so that he could sweep his rifle across both ends of the alley. The marine saw no sign of the enemy and signaled to his team that he was moving onwards.

  Patrick double-timed it down the alley before skidding to a halt at the mouth of the next gap in the buildings. He noticed a squad of Helion troopers rushing past them on the street going in the other direction. At first he thought they were perhaps gearing up to assault the hab-block that Squad Taggart had been holding, but as the last trooper crossed his field of vision he saw the trooper turn and fire several rounds behind him before continuing on.

  Samuel, Bianca, and Ben joined Patrick and they continued onwards, finally stacking up at the mouth of a small side street that opened up to face the gun nest. They were near the edge of the colony and could still hear the sounds of furious combat and the roar of speeders exploding through the valley.

  “Patrick, hold here with Bianca,” said Samuel as he peered into the street to see that a group of Helion elites and troopers had occupied a squad building near the gun nest.

  In the time since Samuel had seen the wargir slaughter the troopers in the nest, it looked as if another squad had taken the position. The two enemy positions were engaging a group of Reapers and at least one of the Folken elites in a shootout. It wasn’t looking good for the Grotto forces.

  They had been pinned down between the burning wreckage of a combat speeder and the pulverized remnants of the original Helion perimeter wall. If the Helion forces managed to hold the building for much longer the rest of their forces would rally around them and possibly push the Grotto forces out of the colony. If they got pushed back into the open it would be a shooting gallery. Samuel could see that while plenty of combat speeders still circled the town, most of them had expended their onboard ammunition and had been reduced to simple transport vehicles until they had a chance to re-supply.

  “Ben, we’ve got to rush the nest,” said Samuel darkly as he turned to face his friend, “If we can take the position fast enough we can possibly get in a few good hits before the troops in the building realize we’ve flanked them. Might help our guys push back and get a better fighting position.”

  “Son of a bitch, Prybar, when you decide to step up you really go for it!” laughed Ben. He rotated his shoulder in expectation of the coming violence, “Lead the way, boss.”

  Samuel observed their objective for a few seconds more, then gathered his legs underneath him and started sprinting towards the nest. The enemy had been using the mounted machine gun to keep the Grotto forces pinned down while their flanks were punished by the Helion forces in the building. Samuel knew that more Reapers were dying the longer he waited, but if he and Ben were shot down in a foolish charge it would serve no purpose.

  When the Helion trooper operating the mounted weapon had to stop to reload, Samuel made his move. The two marines made a mad dash across the street, holding their fire until they were very near point blank range. Samuel’s attention was focused on the machine gunner, the Helion trooper going down with holes shot through his back as Samuel approached. Ben’s rail gun whirred and vomited projectiles in a deadly cloud that enveloped the troopers who occupied the nest. Samuel slung his rifle as he ran and vaulted the wall of the nest, trusting that his comrade marine would not only finish off the enemy, but also avoid shredding Samuel in the process. The marine knew that he had to turn the mounted gun on the building as soon as he could before the other Helion force knew what was coming.

  Samuel landed as gracefully as he could and reached for the gun to steady himself as he stumbled. As it turned out, the stumble saved his life. A wounded, but still capable, Helion trooper raised a pistol and fired several rounds into the space where Samuel had been only milliseconds before.

  Samuel whirled the heavy gun around even as he prayed that the previous operator had chambered the belt fed rounds. His luck held as he squeezed the trigger and the heavy gun belched a salvo of high velocity rounds tearing his adversary to pieces. Samuel then turned the gun on the handful of troopers who had survived Ben’s fusillade and the machine gun turned them into bloody pulp.

  Without pausing to release the trigger, Samuel brought the gun up and strafed the adjacent building occupied by the Helion troopers and elites. He found that he was screaming as the rounds blew apart one of the elites and several of the troopers before the belt ended and the gun clicked empty once more. Both Samuel and Ben dove for cover as they scrambled to reload their own weapons.

  The marine’s bold move had been noticed by the Grotto forces, and the Reapers took the opportunity to charge the Helion position while the enemy was reeling from the surprise attack. As Samuel and Ben lent their semi-automatic fire in support of the brazen charge the marines could see that the wargir who had been in their combat speeder was with the group.

  The Helion forces were routed in short order, only to be cut down by more Reaper squads moving up from within the colony, having taken the interior with vicious street to street fighting spearheaded by the Folken elites.

  Mere minutes after the death of Maggie Taggart, the squad rallied at the machine gun nest and held the position as Grotto Reapers and Folken elites eliminated the last of the Helion defenders.

  POINTS OF VIEW

  Samuel had stabilized Bianca and sent up the call for a casualty recovery when he noticed the wargir sitting on the smoking hull of the Helion battle tank that had died just at the top of a nearby hill.

  The wargir waved an invitation to Samuel and the marine trudged up the dune hill to join the mercenary in surveying the battlefield. The fighting was all but finished, and for the first time that day Samuel began to feel confident about the mission.

  “Well, uh,” Samuel wracked his brain for the other man’s name. Imago. “ Imago. Looks like we won,” said Samuel off handedly as he sat down next to the mercenary, “Good day for Grotto and bad day for Helion. Can’t say it feels all that victorious though, a lot of bodies out there that belong to us.”

  “Hyst Samgir,” the mercenary said, “you must understand that when war is stripped of ideology, all that remains is the simple reality that it is nothing more, and nothing less, than the violent redistribution of wealth.” He cocked his head at Samuel as they sat perched upon the burned out hull of a Helion battle tank. “Anyone who says differently is just trying to lower your pay rate.”

  The Errolite mercenary seemed to find humor in his own statement, and chuckled to himself behind his armored mask, which Samuel found particularly unsettling. They remained in silence for a moment, watching as the strange two headed birds of the tundra planet, which according to the fauna/flora briefing were a c
arrion species called kyracks, began to circle over the ravaged colony that lay smoldering in the valley below. The wargir gestured at the bloody chaos around them with a gauntleted hand.

  “To anyone but those who fought and died here, this colony is just a name and a number, perhaps merely a number, in a vast accounting system that tallies inventory, personnel, property holdings, and monetary liquidity.

  No matter how peaceful or neutral those who once lived here may have been, their resources were deemed worth the minimal cost for Helion forces to conquer and occupy this place.

  Red Listed communities have no rights in the corporate world, and even that world is an illusion, it is the one we all fight for, the one that we, at present, ascribe to. A community with no rights cannot rely on anyone but themselves to protect it, because it exists outside of the system.

  Captain Volk determined from our initial recon that the community did, at some point, have a small militia protecting it. Little evidence remains of them, just a few blasted gun nests and a half-slagged mech-warrior that looks to have been older than the colony itself. It must have been a feat of engineering for the colonists to keep it battle ready at all; much good it did them. Helion rolled over their petty militia in a matter of minutes, if our recon was accurate,” Imago said, his voice monotone thanks to the helmet’s modulator, “My point is, that someone, far away and privy to a broader scope of events in the universe than we, determined that this colony was worth taking. Then when this sector became contested space, those same people, or their successors, deemed it of continued interest to the Bottom Line that the colony remain in their possession. On our side, someone else determined that the colony, and the corresponding resources and projected revenues it represents, was worth the cost of assaulting.”