The last thing Lieutenant Kyle Vin Ordin had seen was the ground of Valinor rushing at him. Now, as pain wracked his head and body, his vision and hearing began to return. The first thing he noticed was a steady beeping. That's strange, he thought detachedly. The crash should have destroyed all equipment. Then he noticed the flashing red numbers. 1:31, 1:30, 1:29, 1:28...
It took him all of four seconds to realize that the Phantom's self-destruct had been initiated. It took another three to undo his safety belt, two to grab his survival gear from under the seat, and another ten to kick open the hatch and clamber out. He moved as quickly as possible towards Dari's craft, though he knew he wouldn't reach it in time. It was his duty to his wingman to help her or die trying. That was the way of the SS.
In less than a minute, though, he found out that her self-destruct had been activated first. A roar filled the air, and the concussion wave knocked him to the ground. When he looked back, where the Phantom had been was simply a crater in the ground with a few small pieces of metal scattered here and there. He swallowed once, then, surrendering Dari to her fate, knelt by his bag and searched through it to see what he had.
First, he withdrew medical equipment. A small hand-scanner told him that he had one cracked rib and multiple abrasions and cuts, but otherwise was in fit condition. He wrapped his rib as best he could and field-dressed the more severe cuts, but the rest would have to wait until he got back to the base.
Next, he withdrew the small blaster and buckled it around his waist. The thing wouldn't do much against Contegorian armor, but it should suffice for personal, close-quarters defense. A vibroknife went on the other him. Then, after making sure the bag contained food and water, he slung the pack on his back and, checking directions on the small tracer in his suit, headed off towards the base.
It took him all of four seconds to realize that the Phantom's self-destruct had been initiated. It took another three to undo his safety belt, two to grab his survival gear from under the seat, and another ten to kick open the hatch and clamber out. He moved as quickly as possible towards Dari's craft, though he knew he wouldn't reach it in time. It was his duty to his wingman to help her or die trying. That was the way of the SS.
In less than a minute, though, he found out that her self-destruct had been activated first. A roar filled the air, and the concussion wave knocked him to the ground. When he looked back, where the Phantom had been was simply a crater in the ground with a few small pieces of metal scattered here and there. He swallowed once, then, surrendering Dari to her fate, knelt by his bag and searched through it to see what he had.
First, he withdrew medical equipment. A small hand-scanner told him that he had one cracked rib and multiple abrasions and cuts, but otherwise was in fit condition. He wrapped his rib as best he could and field-dressed the more severe cuts, but the rest would have to wait until he got back to the base.
Next, he withdrew the small blaster and buckled it around his waist. The thing wouldn't do much against Contegorian armor, but it should suffice for personal, close-quarters defense. A vibroknife went on the other him. Then, after making sure the bag contained food and water, he slung the pack on his back and, checking directions on the small tracer in his suit, headed off towards the base.
***
"Sir, they're headed our way." Lt. Cmd. Max Lomax stood with Cmd. Racen Selere. They were hovering over holomaps of the area, directing the placement of forces from the relative safety of the bunker. General Zhu stood with them, watching in awe as they rapidly deployed guerilla forces in perfect ambush positions and placed armored sections for rapid counterattacks.
Selere glanced up at the approaching Lieutenant. "Good. The street fight has bought us just enough time to prepare our defenses. What's the order of advance?"
"Standard Contegorian attack, Sir. Paladin droids in the lead, followed by armored columns and organic troops. Deathsabers and other fighters seem to be covering the advance from overhead."
Selere smiled. He had counted on the Contegorian commander to follow proper procedure. That was why he had ordered his insurgents to wait until the Paladins had passed to launch their counter attack. The full brunt would fall on the organic columns in the rear, causing confusion and devestation in the rear, hopefully slowing or even halting the advance.
His main line had been armed with mobile proton torpedo launchers, E-web repeating blasters, and laser rifles, not to mention the heavy artillery he was keeping in reserve. The Empire had had two months to smuggle supplies in to Zhu, and smuggle they did. Most of the equipment was dated for the Empire, war surplus from the previous Coalition war, but it had been paid for and would be more than a match for the Contegorian armor. Not even a Paladin could stand up to a proton torpedo.
The key surprise for the Confederation, though, would be the eight sections of Skorpion Ground Assault Vehicles. Many in the Empire thought these weapons were over-armed, as they carried a Phoenix gun battery as the main armament and two E-webs for anti-infantry defense, but the SS, having seen them in action on Bothuwai, swore by them. The Phoenix could easily tear through ranks of Paladins and could even be used as a mobile anti-air defense.
Selere continued, "Lieutenant, send a message to Colonel Wang in the city. Tell him to pull back to the outskirts and wait for my signal."
The Lieutenant saluted and trotted off. Selere turned back to the map. This is going to be a very good day.
***
Kyle had only walked about three-hundred yards before stumbling across his first human contact...literally. He wasn't paying attention to the ground, and as he crested a small rise, he tripped over the body of Dari Croft. He picked himself up and checked her vitals. She was still breathing, but some of her cuts looked pretty bad, and she was still unconscious.
"Stang," he whispered to himself. While this was good, it was also potentially pretty bad. If she didn't wake up, or if she couldn't walk, he'd either have to carry her back to base or activate his homing beacon. Both could be deadly. If he came across the enemy while carrying her, he'd be a sitting duck. But if he called in a rescue team, the Confederation would pounce on them like mynocks on a ship, and the entire party would be in danger.
Well, he thought, better try to patch her up. He dug in his pack and withdrew the medical scanner, running it over her. Amazingly, nothing was broken; apparently she had been thrown clear of the craft as it broke apart and escaped serious injury. He field-dressed her cuts and injected her with a mild stimulant designed to bring her around quickly.
She groaned once and opened her eyes, blinking in the sunlight. Focusing on his face, she smiled slightly and said, "Good to see you. What happened?"
Kyle explained the anti-aircraft fire that had hit them and the resulting crash. Dari wanted to look for her pack, but Kyle told her that it had disintegrated along with her ship. She nodded, then immediately held her head. "Sithspit," she said, "you don't happen to have anything in that bag for pain, do you?"
"Well," he responded, "just some general pain relief pills. Those work?"
"They'll help," she said, taking them and popping them into her mouth. Swallowing, she continued, "So, what next? Back to base?"
"Yeah," Kyle answered, replacing the bottle and helping her to her feet. "That's where I was headed. I figure we're only about an hour or two away. Shouldn't be too hard to reach."
"Let's go then," she said, and they started walking, two miniature specks on a barren and inhospitable landscape.
***
Corporal Chang Jinato sat beneath the earth, blaster carbine clutched tight to his chest. Twelve other men and women sat around him, staring at him to lead them. The sweat flowed freely from his brow, and he knew that the heat was not the only cause.
Jinato had joined Zhu's Freedom Fighters a little over a year before. The eighteen-year-old's parents had been murdered by miners who believed that the Jinato homestead was encroaching on the mine's property. Chang, an orphan, had attempted to bring justice down on the perpetrators, but there was not enough evidence to convict the murderers, and they were set free. Believing himself to have been betrayed by his government, he delivered a stunning address to the court just before he walked out accusing them of being a pack of heartless worms whose only concern was the governmental economy, not justice. As the courtroom doors slammed behind him, he made the decision to do whatever he could to avenge his parents' deaths.
For him, the logical choice was Zhu's Freedom Fighters. They were the most upstanding insurgent group he knew of, and they seemed committed to bringing a just change to the planet of Valinor. Chang had been with the group that had hunted down the rogue murderers that had ravaged a homestead and had distinguished himself in battles against Hrag's command. He had won a commission as a corporal in the capture and subsequent execution of the rogue criminals. Now, he faced a new enemy, one much deadlier and evil - the Contegorian invasion army.
Chang Jinato had never been much of a fighter. In fact, if one were to delve into his core beliefs, one might even say he was a pacifist. Nevertheless, he was a pacifist who realized that often the only way to secure peace was to engage in war, and therefore willingly submitted himself to the inevitability of the conflict that had thrust itself upon his life. Now, though, as he faced what he believed might be an inevitable death, he was filled with fear.
His fear was not only for himself, though. He knew that his death would fulfill a higher purpose. His fear was mostly for his men. Chang was still not sure that to order the deaths of twelve men was justified. It was a question with which he still wrestled as he heard the Paladin droids move overhead.
Despite his fear, he had to chuckle at the Contegorian and Valinorian mistake. What neither party realized, having not lived off the land for years, was that a certain element in the soil of Valinor blocked most sensors. Anything happening underground was usually undetectable. Sometimes certain high-tech sensors could bypass it, but only if the fact was known and the machines were carefully calibrated to a specific frequency that changed randomly. It was how Zhu had been able to evade detection for so long. Now, the Paladins' sensors missed the small force's hiding place and passed over them unaware.
As the rumble of the droids passed, Chang's grip on the carbine tightened. Soon it would be time to break from his hiding place and engage the enemy formation. He knew he would be facing seasoned Contegorian troops wearing protective armor and prayed that his small carbine would find a weak point.
***
Sergeant Maximus Gracus stood in the trenches, watching through macrobinoculars as the line of Paladin droids approached. "Good God," he whispered to himself as the seemingly invincible wall of metal approached. Beside him, a private knelt in prayer, making a sign of religious devotion as he waited behind his E-web.
Maximus was not a native of Valinor. In fact, he had arrived two years ago hoping to make it as a miner. What he did not realize is that the large mining corporations ran the industry at the expense of the little guy. His mining business was crushed, and when he attempted to petition the government for aid, he was quickly denied and the records lost. A little digging on his part discovered that several elected representatives of the people were tacitly supporting the big corporations and the government seemed to turn a blind eye. It did bring in money, after all.
Maximus, now with scarcely a credit to his name, decided at that moment to join the Freedom Fighters. Since then he had been involved in several raids on mining companies, siphoning money from their banks, robbing or burning their warehouses, and shooting down their shipping transports. Now he was a sergeant, commanding a detachment in the trenches, serving General Zhu and his country.
He took a deep breath and replaced his macrobinoculars in their pouch. Hefting his laser rifle, he methodically attached the scope, reviewing in his mind all the steps. Aside from being a sergeant, Maximus was also one of the better shots in Zhu's army, hence his current assignment. He had been chosen to fire the shot that would begin the final battle of this war. As he leveled the rifle, aiming for the chest of one of the approaching droids, he quickly reviewed everything that had brought him to this point. Then he slowly squeezed the trigger, all the while wondering if he was signing his own death warrant.
***
Not all the Freedom Fighters had joined for noble reasons. Private Avraham Hassan was a mercenary who travelled the galaxy, looking for any army or military organization that would make fighting worth his while. He had ended up on Valinor in Warlord Hrag's army simply because he could loot the bodies of those they killed and steal from the homes of those they robbed.
Hassan was a sick, twisted individual whose favorite sound was the sucking noise made by a knife as it cut through the throat of an organic. He preferred to work close, looking his enemy in the eye as he slowly took his or her life. It made no difference whether his victim was a man, woman, or even a child; the pleasure was the same.
Now, though, Hrag had surrendered to this General Zhu, and he wasn't allowed to plunder and kill like he used to do. No matter, though. For this battle, Hassan had been given a proton torpedo launcher, and he would be able to cause death and destruction on a much wider scale. And after the fight there would certainly be bodies to loot while his superiors weren't watching.
He sat in the trench, watching the Paladin droids move forward, waiting for his chance to strike. Fighters roared overhead, out of range of his weapon. But they weren't shooting at him yet, either, so he paid them no mind. The Paladins were much more interesting.
***
Kyle and Dari had been trudging along for nearly a half an hour, guided by the compass and Dari's uncanny sense of direction. A few rests had been required; Kyle did have a broken rib, after all. They didn't talk much; their strength was needed to just keep moving. Then, in the distance, Dari spotted something.
"Kyle, look," she said. "Over there." He stared blankly for a moment before she grabbed his head and pointed his eyes in the right direction. "No, over there." Then he saw it - the remains of a downed shuttle.
"You think anybody survived?" he asked.
"Not likely," she replied. "But I bet they have better weapons. Assuming the shuttle didn't burn."
The took off at a faster pace, not quite running, towards the downed craft. Kyle, always cautious, had drawn his blaster, but he really didn't expect to have to use it. He was wrong.
***
A red bolt of energy lanced out from the barrel of Sergeant Maximus Gracus's laser rifle. The finely-aimed beam flew true, striking the droid directly in the chest, penetrating its thick armor and disintegrating its Intellex X Processor. The droid simply stopped, dead in its tracks. The remaining Paladins moved on, heedless of the droid's destruction. Their weapons were still not within effective range.
Another shot lanced out from the Freedom Fighters' position, ripping off a Paladin's arm along with its assault rifle. The droid continued to advance until a second bolt hit its intelligence core. Laser bolts were coming from all over the field now, striking all parts of the droids. The Paladins began to fire back, but the effect was negligable. First, the insurgents were scattered, meaning that each shot from the Paladins' assault rifles only killed or wounded two or three of the enemy. Secondly, the Freedom Fighters had had time to build up defenses. While not all the defensive positions resisted the blasts from the Paladins' rifles, many did, and many a Fighter was saved from certain death.
Less than 200 meters from Maximus's position, Private Avraham Hassan leveled his torpedo launcher at the oncoming droids. His particular weapon carried four of the deadly projectiles, and he had another twenty by his feet, ready for reloading. When the droids came in range, his first shot lanced out along with dozens of others.
The proton torpedo, though a common weapon in the galaxy, is designed for starfighter and capital ship assault. One or two can easily take down a snubfighter, and a solid volley can split a capital ship in two. While the Paladin droid sported heavy armor, specifically armor designed to withstand projectile weapons, it was no match for a weapon designed to rip apart a starfighter.
The torpedoes tore into the droid ranks, wreaking havoc throughout the lines. Droid parts flew through the air, as did earth and projectiles. The Paladins fired back, their weapons now more effective and deadly. Hundreds of Freedom Fighters died, but their ranks had swelled with citizens and the soldiers of other warlords. They were willing to die to stop these evil machines from overrunning their hopes of freedom.
***
Corporal Chang Jinato knew it was time. The last of the Paladins had passed overhead, and he could hear the armored and infantry columns approaching. He said a quick prayer to his god, begging to live long enough to take twenty of the Contegorian scum with him to his grave, then he nodded. The thirteen men heaved open the earthen trapdoors that had covered them and lit into the approaching force.
Corporal Jinato saw three Contegorian soldiers go down under his weapon. To his right, Privates Anjo and Obrumchit had set up and E-web and were tearing into the ranks with the automatic weapon. To his left, Private Cummings was firing an older model of what used to be called a machine gun. The 7.62 mm projectiles tore through the Confederation armor easily as it had not been built to withstand multiple impacts at extremely high velocities.
All along the line, Freedom Fighters had popped out of hiding. Their initial assault threw the Contegorian and Valinorian infantry into confusion; this wasn't supposed to happen. The Paladins were supposed to detect hidden infantry. But the confusion didn't last for long. The Contegorians quickly found their own cover and began firing back, and the Confederation armored columns rumbled forward.
***
Maximus had already destroyed four droids when the explosion hit. A 6 kilogram shell struck directly in front of his position, sending him flipping backwards through the air and knocking him momentarily unconscious. For a few seconds he was disoriented, not realizing what had happened. He saw the mangled body of the religious private nearby, destroyed by the blast. The kid had absorbed most of the shrapnel and had probably saved Maximus's life. The Sergeant didn't even know his name.
The E-webs were proving almost ineffective against the Paladins at this range. On the other hand, the proton torpedoes and laser rifles were still causing the casualties to mount. And then the Deathsabers swooped in.
Avraham Hassan had already launched his first four torpedoes and was reloading when the airstrike hit. Laser cannons chewed up the ground around him, and warheads launched from the craft wracked the trenches with massive explosions. Enraged, Avraham snapped the last torpedo into place and aimed at the sky. While the Deathsaber was a stealth ship, the effects were negated in the day when a visual scan could detect the sillouette of the ship with ease.
Pointing his weapon at the sky, Avraham launched the first anti-aircraft torpedo of the battle. The projectile flew true, striking the tail of the fighter as it roared down the line. The pilot, apparently a novice, had failed to raise his rear shields, and the torpedo went straight into his engine. One bright explosion later and the ship was no more.
***
Captain Yule McCain stood in the turret of the lead Skorpion in GAV Group C. As the Deathsabers rained fire on the trenches, he waited for the right moment. A native Valinorian, he had operated as a mercenary at one time, fighting with the Galactic Coalition in the armored divisions. His experience had landed him this spot as a armor commander, and now he was responsible for commanding the assault.
As the fighters continued their attack, the Paladins, receiving distress calls from the ambushed infantry, turned to aid their comrades. McCain smiled. The trap was set; all that was left was to spring it. He ordered his battlegroup forward.
As the Skorpions emerged from their tunnels, their Phoenix batteries were at maximum elevation. Loaded with flachette particles, they fired as they came. The Deathsabers, lacking extremely good particle shielding, took the full brunt of the volley. Several of the craft were ripped apart by the blasts, and the entire unit fell back to regroup. The Skorpions moved on, lowering their batteries to face the Paladin droids. They fired, striking the back of the droids, the massive guns tearing several of them apart.
