“General Merrick, sir. The rebels are attacking!” The aide was a young lieutenant named Thurn, and his raw nerves were showing.
“Calm down, lieutenant.” Merrick stood up and turned to face his aide. “They are attacking where?”
“In the center, sir.” Thurn took a breath and slowed down, but his voice was still high-pitched with tension. “They are assaulting our center.”
Merrick was stunned. Why, he wondered, would they come out of their trenches and throw themselves at us in the open?
“Lieutenant, get me the front line commanders on my comlink.” It had to be a diversion, he thought, to take his attention away from the flank. But he wasn’t going to let them pull their little hit and run…he was going to turn it against them. This was a chance to hit the rebels hard, but he had to move now.
Thurn worked on his headset for a few seconds, making sure all the necessary officers were on the line. “You are on with all forward commanders, sir.”
“To all commanders now engaged on the front line of the army…your orders are to attack immediately. Engage and destroy all exposed enemy forces and pursue as long as advantageous.” Merrick knew he was getting aggressive, but if he could hurt the rebels badly enough, he might just win this thing today. Then he could get off this forsaken rock and go home.
Merrick half-listened as the commanders on the line acknowledged his order then he flipped off the line and turned toward Thurn.
“Lieutenant, contact Colonel Jarrod.” Merrick had a self-satisfied smile on his face. “Order him to detach two battalions from his brigade to reinforce the attack on the enemy’s left flank.” He paused then added an afterthought. “Instruct him to lead them himself and to personally take command of the entire attack.”
“Yes, sir.” Thurn immediately began relaying Merrick’s orders to Jarrod.
Yes, General Thompson, Merrick thought with considerable self-satisfaction, you think I will abandon the flank attack and throw everything into the center. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid I cannot accommodate you.” He turned again toward Thurn and barked one more command. “Instruct Colonel Jarrod to commit a third battalion to the flank attack.” He smiled again and muttered under his breath. “No, General Thompson. I will not play your game.”
The troops attacking the center were catching hell. The valley was mostly broad and open, with little good cover. They had the element of surprise at first; no one had expected them to come out of their defenses and attack. But that didn’t last.
At first the federals deployed defensively, forming up to repel the assault. The infantry streamed out of the APCs, forming firing lines just in front of the vehicles. The troops took whatever cover was available but, for the most part, they were as much in the open as the attackers. But there were more of them, and they had heavy weapon support from the APCs. They were taking a significant toll on the advancing rebels, even at long range.
Then the orders came up: attack across the line. The troops grumbled – they had the prospect of a turkey shoot if they just stood fast. Now they were ordered to move out and counter-attack. The non-coms waved their arms and surged forward – officers in the Alliance army tended to lead from behind – and the great mass charged into the plain.
The two sides ran toward each other, firing wildly. The APCs advanced behind the federal infantry, but the formation became confused, disordered. The Feds were trained career soldiers, but there was no living memory of full-scale warfare in the terrestrial army. The infantry blocked the line of fire from the APCs, and the vehicles were stuck behind disorganized clumps of soldiers.
The rebels kept better order. They were a smaller force, more compact and easier for the officers to keep in formation. Though many of them had been farmers and shopkeepers, they were leavened with true veterans, retired Marines who’d seen real combat on worlds throughout occupied space.
It was a brutal, chaotic fight, the two lines advancing to close range and exchanging murderous fire. Wherever there was any type of cover – a rock outcropping or a small depression in the ground – troops would cluster behind it, firing at the enemy from a position of relative advantage.
The lines became intermixed, as the rebels would make headway along on section of the front and lose ground on another. Gregory Sanders was in the thick of the fight, though he knew both Will and Kara would be upset with him if they could see. But Will wouldn’t have ordered this attack if the situation wasn’t desperate…and Sanders was going to make sure Thompson got what he needed. And the only way he knew how to do something important was to grab onto it and dive in.
He was surrounded by his troops, and despite being heavily outnumbered, they were holding their own. He was beyond proud of these men and women…the Alliance forces were getting more than they bargained for from a group they likely considered ignorant colonials. Sanders enjoyed that thought immensely.
But now it was time to get his people out. It didn’t matter how hard they fought; in the open plain they would be overwhelmed eventually. “All units, this is General Sanders.” He spoke into the comlink, practically screaming to rise above the din of battle. “Execute retirement to prepared positions. Plan Alpha.” Sanders had a few surprises ready for the federals if they decided to pursue his forces.
All around him the rebel troops were pulling back, as the battalion commanders and then the junior officers and non-coms relayed his orders. They’d planned the retreat – as well as anything could be planned in the brief time they’d had to get organized – and now they were executing it flawlessly.
To the Feds, unused to the trickery and stratagems of war, it looked like a rout, and all along the line, the Alliance commanders ordered their troops to pursue. In the center, the tanks, which had previously been screened by the infantry, began advancing along tight corridors through the confused federal line. The infantry cheered as the massive war machines rumbled noisily forward.
Perfect, Sanders thought. If we can pull this off we will give them quite a bloody nose. He turned to take one last look at the enemy forces before he joined the last of the rebel formations in the retreat. That’s when it hit him.
He heard the sound first, and felt the blood in his throat…only then did the pain come. It was a round fired from an assault rifle, and it went clean through his neck. He felt the strength draining from his body and his legs starting to give out. He fell, first to his knees then, a few seconds later, forward onto the ground. His head was fuzzy, his thoughts hazy, random. Memories, some recent some a lifetime old, mixed with thoughts about the battle. And the darkness, the growing darkness…more and more until there was nothing else.
Kyle Warren had been hit twice. Neither wound was serious, but he looked like hell, with filthy, blood-soaked rags tied around his leg and his forehead. The fighting on the flank had been brutal, with the Feds pouring more and more troops into the bitter battle for the ridgeline.
Twice Warren’s troops had been forced back from their hastily-prepared defenses, and both times they’d received reserves just in time to counter-attack and regain their lines. He’d stopped even trying to keep track of casualties, but the dead and wounded were everywhere. In the very center of the position, a place the troops were already calling the Meatgrinder, the dead were stacked on top of each other. Here it had been hand to hand combat several times, and many of the dead had faces smashed by rifle butts and chests ripped open by knives.
Warren was operating on adrenalin, trying not to think too deeply about the slaughter around him. He couldn’t help but remember the battle on the space station in the Gliese 250 system, when he’d served as a corporal under then-Captain Erik Cain. The battle had been a success by any standard, and casualties relatively low. But Cain was somber after the battle, uncomfortable with the cheering and applause the unit gave him. Warren had been confused then, but now he understood.