“Sket,” gasped Van Dop. The battle was still fresh, but it seemed like there was already a lull developing in his team’s concentration of fire. Men were getting hit and their buddies were helping them, taking their own rifles out of the fight.
That wouldn’t carry.
“Keep firing!” Van Dop screamed to each merc he passed by. Orders he hadn’t thought would be necessary to seasoned combat veterans. Professional soldiers still. But here he was, giving those same orders. Like he was presiding over a bunch of boots fresh from basic training, seeing combat for the first time.
“We’re gonna need help,” grunted the merc assisting with Hopper. He looked down at the wounded team leader and added, “Stay with us, Hop.”
Van Dop had been thinking the same thing, and for whatever reason, his mind had prioritized getting Hopper to the CCP before calling in to speak with Command. As it turned out, his outgoing comm relay wouldn’t be answered until they’d traveled the remaining meters to reach the rearmost sled they’d retained.
“Go for Command,” came a female voice… Elektra, if Van Dop’s memory served him true.
“This is Paul Van Dop, Assistant Team Leader, Strikeforce Ark. We are taking heavy fire from an armed element of Kublaren hostiles. Requesting immediate fire support.”
There was a long pause. “Negative, Van Dop. We are seeing complications throughout the city. Hold position.”
Someone fired a rocket propelled grenade at one of the sleds but missed wide, the projectile detonating down the street into the stone façade of an eight-story building. Checking the advancing force, which was now bleeding into alleys in an attempt to take some cover even as it pushed up the road, Van Dop spotted humans wearing Republic Army uniforms. This wasn’t just some misunderstanding—the koobs wanting to get through Nilo’s mercs to reach the ZQ. This was a double cross.
Pashta’k had flipped. Or maybe they were never truly allies to begin with. Koob politics were… tricky.
“Command,” Van Dop tried again, “Pashta’k warriors are advancing with Republic Army regulars and wielding the weapons we gave them against us. We are going to be overrun unless we receive immediate support.”
There was another pause before Elektra came back, her tone without emotion. “Hold position.”
That was going to be easier said than done. And while Van Dop had received orders like this from appointed officers in a former life, he’d come to hope he wouldn’t be getting the same from Team Nilo who, by his accounts, had a lot figured out. Which meant this might be a case where the new boss was pretty much the same as the old boss, or it might be that the museum—for whatever reason—was a high value target. Still, there were lives at stake and Van Dop wanted to be sure the precariousness of their defense was clearly understood.
“The hostiles are advancing unhindered. We will do what we can, but—”
Van Dop’s voice was cut off by a new voice over the comm. Mr. Surber.
“You will stay put and defend that objective. That is an absolute fact, Mr. Van Dop. That museum must be held at all costs. All costs. Now, there is a support team moving to your location from inland. They’ll be the first ones able to reach you and they will bail you out. You just need to hold on until they arrive.”
Van Dop let out a sigh. This was what he’d signed up for. And he knew what waited for him if he ever was put back out in the cold—if he were ever terminated from Team Nilo. That was a fate worse than death. And Surber knew it. Made it clear that he knew exactly which ghosts still haunted Van Dop’s past.
If that were true of the other men, time would tell. For now, it was his job to get them to put up as stiff a resistance as possible.
And hope not to die trying.
44
Carter
Inland Kublar
You know what I miss? Close air support.
Not that we got much of it in the Legion during the bulk of my time there. Point naval officers and point leejes were always too worried about the fallout of an orbital bombardment or a tri-bomber delivering a bot-guided bomb. Even the more precise air support like buzz ships rarely got the okay.
Because all those things messed sket up. You don’t forget the force that accompanies that kind of firepower. Plus you had those idiots in the House of Reason who felt that if the Legion were such powerful combatants, what the hell did they need air support for? Not that they gave any to the Army or Marines, either.
That changed after Article Nineteen. Especially once Legion Commander Chhun took charge. But that was only a brief stint for me, fighting until Utopion fell and then opting out after that because… bills. Still, it was nice.
And I get it. I get why Big Nee can’t supply tactical air support at the level we need right now to wrap this operation up. Ships and shuttles, bombers and bombs—all of that is really expensive. Even for a guy with pockets as deep as Big Nee’s. You don’t just buy a space force or a fleet.
But I can’t help but think the situation on Kublar would go a hell of a lot easier if we could send more than a few missile-equipped drones into the air. Then again, the donks and the planetary government don’t have any air power to speak of either. So at least there’s that.
If we can’t benefit from a bombing run to take out hostiles embedded in hillside defensive positions, neither do we have to worry about them doing the same to us.
Things have pretty well turned sour since Pikkek’s knife fight. Here’s what I know, most of which I wrung out of Brisco while receiving painfully vague orders. The knife fight was meant to whip the zhee who had settled inland into a frenzy. It was cut in with a propaganda film that showed the Kublarens destroying the
