On Crimson Expanse a major ISA operation was underway in the foothills of the Heroes mountain range, located 500 kilometers west of the planet’s capital city of Blood Valor. A significant number of Comensal had turned the tunnels of the mining complexes in the region into bastions, and from those bastions they have attacked ISA bases and convoys. One of the units involved in the operation was Company B of the 31st Tactical Armor Regiment. Of the three Mongoose platoons held in reserve the one with Loaded Vice was the most experience. Waiting for an expected breakout of Comensal after their tunnels were being burned and collapsed there was little to do other than listen to chatter over the combat frequencies.
2nd Class Sergeant Furdex, Loaded Vice’s commander, looked at his main screen and wondered out loud. “You know, the puzzle masters back at Divisional say these mines were created by that AI race the boneheads killed off. If those thinking machines had more leeway in their programming they would’ve realized that it’s more practical and less invasive to the environment if they did most of their mining on asteroids.”
“Well, Sarge, there was a built-in expectation from those AIs for direction given by their masters,” said 1st Class Vara Licus, the comm and sensors operator, over the vehicle’s voice net. “In their absence they had a directive to rationalize expenditure of resources to fall back upon. Having all those mines here on the planet eliminates the need to shuttle them down. This planet is rather mineral rich, so perhaps it was logical from their viewpoint to do all their mining here.”
“Still wasteful, even for machines.” It was 3rd Class Sergeant Pendex, talking from the driver’s post at the front of the hull. “They could’ve done so much more had those restrictions not be hard-wired into them.”
Furdex chuckled. “Then we would be fighting walking refrigerators instead of boneheads. On the other hand I would rather fight self-thinking machines than flesh-and-blood any day, Five Gods willing.”
“Whoa, whoa!” exclaimed Licus. “Sarge, there’s a lot of noise on the tac net coming from the front line units. Regimental HQ is compiling the feeds and accessing the Eagle Eyes.”
Furdex checked the chinstrap of his helmet, wiping away imaginary sweat. “Is is the breakout?”
“I’m itchin’ to use those rockets on our hardpoints,” said 1st Class Vara Spuran, Loaded Vice’s gunner. “They’re accidents waiting to happen if they’re sniped while we’re carrying them.”
With his back hands manipulating the views of two screens Furdex secured the hatch above him with both front hands. “Pendex, get ready to move at Piton Corsun’s word. Engage environmental protection systems now.”
“Affirmative, Sarge.”
“We’re linked with Regimental HQ,” Licus announced. “The fire control plan is downloaded.”
“Moving! The Piton is having the platoon moved five klicks west, Sarge.”
Furdex read the data scrawl on his primary monitor. No less than 200 Comensal were seen bolting from the mines in a desperate bid to escape collapsing tunnel walls and asphyxiation after the latest round of ‘blast and burn’ tactics from the combat engineer companies. There were still plenty of hidden automated weapons planted by the boneheads earlier, however, as a platoon of infantry found out when several anti-personnel mines were command detonated in a ravine, inflicting substantial casualties.
Four minutes later the Mongooses came to a halt, line abreast in a field of hardy, drought-resistant ferns. Each had five bombardment rockets mounted on hardpoints set at 30 degree angles on either side of the hulls. With Eagle Eye UAVs lasing the targets all forty rockets arced up into the cloudless sky. On the way back down they discharged hundreds of anti-personnel bomblets. With fifty percent overlap only those escaping at the very edge of the blast zone had a chance of survival.
Licus hunched over her comm station panel. “HQ is squawking again, Sarge. But it’s directed to Division HQ. There’s a high-value target near those big mine pilings six kilometers away.”
Furdex rubbed his chin. “Division? Then it’ll be encoded. What’s so important here that Regimental had to call upstairs?”
“One moment. I’ll get a peek at what they’re sending.” Master of her craft, Licus knew how to access the Eagle Eyes as needed. After a moment a split image appeared on the comm tech’s panel. “Huh. Looks like a group of nondescript boneheads to me, Sarge.”
“Certainly does. They’re running so fast over the field of pilings that their hoods are down to see better.” The Mongoose commander snapped his fingers. “Oh ho, you forget to secure the feed, Licus. Now Piton Corsun…”
“This is Hard Boiled to Loaded Vice,” said the voice over the 3rd Platoon’s frequency, directly into Furdex’s ears. It belonged to Piton Corsun, the platoon leader. “I want to thank you for the feed you’ve been sending to me. I’m sure it’s a glitch on Regimental’s end that had enabled you to get an exclusive Eagle Eye feed.”
“You’re welcome, Piton,” Furdex said, crossing fingers on all four hands.
“I’m a little bit further up on the chain in regards to privileged information, Furdex. As such I know something about that group of boneheads we’re watching. They’re in my database. A majority of them were present at the scene of the Cragside Massacre.”
An involuntary shiver was felt by all in the vehicle. A month earlier an exceedingly rare event took place 200 kilometers to the southeast. A group of Comensal surrendered to a platoon of ISA infantry. Looking worn, ragging, and wounded it certainly looked like they had no more fight in them. They even complied with throwing their weapons away and taking off their camo cloaks. With backup behind them the platoon went in to secure their prisoners when hidden confederates open fired. It was short and incredible intense exchange, made all the more confusing when smoke shells bathed the area with thick, black smoke with only the sound of laughing Comensal competing with the gunfire and explosions. When it cleared the platoon had sustained 80% casualties with one squad completely missing. A week later the bodies were found in a cave in the Cragside Valley. Stripped of their clothes and gear, the 12 Hokum were beheaded and had their limbs chopped off, torsos splayed open as if part of a dissection class at medical school. In their mouths were found unit badges ripped from the combat utility vests they wore over their armor. As the word spread there was an unspoken agreement amongst the troops of the Expeditionary Corps. The general order regarding the taking of Comensal prisoners was that no unnecessary risk was to be made to secure said prisoners. As far as the troops were concerned that became no risk was to made to get prisoners. So it came to pass in after-action reports had no prisoners listed for a number of perfectly reasonable and justified reasons. They had the enemy to thank for making their decision so sinfully easy to make.
“Platoon,” Corsun said over the line-of-sight laser com link, “it seems that an area in the front line is lacking some vehicular support. We will advance to the designated spot.” A red dot appeared on the primary screens of all four Mongooses. “A fire plan for 50 mike-mike will be sent presently. Move with a purpose, people.”
“That’s taking the initiative, Piton,” said Furdex. “Driver, push that pedal to the firewall.”
“Okay, Sarge!” said Pendex with great relish. The Mongoose accelerated with jerk, the whine of the motors only getting slightly more noticeable. On his 180 panorama screen Pendex saw what appeared to be a ridge six kilometers ahead, covered with marker icons of the accounted for Comensal. The ridge was actually composed of pilings, reaching a height of 30 meters and stretching for nearly a kilometer in length. No other ISA unit was in the immediate area, and with the Eagle Eyes having expended their ordnance only the kinetic strike option remained. However, with the Mongooses so close now there was no way such a strike would be authorized.
Furdex already figured that Corsun was making up a perfectly acceptable reason for why the platoon wasn’t responding to calls from HQ. The drive coils for the 30mm railgun did have tendency to interfere with the communications gear, especially when set to maximum power. First to fire, however, was the 50mm mortar in the bow of the Loaded Vice. Along with Hard Boiled, Road Toad 3, and Double Dipper a hailstorm of mortar shells fell on the pilings ridge. Those not caught in the blast radius of the shells were treated to avalanches of rock. Dozens were knocked down and painfully rolled down to the bottom. Short, staccato bursts from turret mounted 7mm railguns relieved these enemies the burden of living.
Swerving hard left, Pendex smiled harshly at what his sensors showed him. A cluster of boneheads was running back towards their mine entrance. 500 meters might as well have been 500 kilometers for the Loaded Vice was among them. Two boneheads bounced off the front of the vehicle like balls against a wall, impacting the ground and then in turn got ran over. Spuran alternately fired 30mm and 7mm railgun rounds, sending bodies and bits of bodies flying downrange. From above it appeared like an invisible godchild was playing with his toys, moving the armored vehicle over knots of enemy figurines. Ferns as well as bodies were grounded into the dirt, with Road Toad 3 actually making several complete turns called ‘donuts’, staining the ground with Comensal guts and blood. Those still with pipe rifles and rocket launchers did put up what resistance they could, only to end up being shot when rising up from the ferns to fire their weapons. Others went into complete denial, closing their camo cloaks and hunkering down. This only turned them into big speedbumps for the Mongooses.
“We’re almost out of boneheads,” Furdex barked over the internal comm. “There’s two… make that one left! Spuran! There’s one at the top of the pilings! Get’em before Corun takes credit!”
The gunner, about to swing the turret and use the 30mm, thought of using something else. “Pendex, point our snout towards the rocks!” Loaded Vice squealed as it turned to the right and stopped in a jerk. Spuran worked the targeting crosshairs over the Comensal and fired an incendiary 50mm mortar round, impacting squarely on the torso. So in addition to flying the Comensal was blown in two and on fire. The body parts fell down on the far side of the pilings.
“Great shot, Spuran,” said Pendex. “That’s one for the scrap book.”
“Thanks, but I was aiming for the head.”
8888888
Com-23 remained quite in the three months since the defeat of the Axis force originally slated for Battlement. Admiral Calixto was glad that her command was being reinforced, and with the captured mobile shipyards converting and refitting previously captured Axis ships on the spot instead of sending them back to Whel will mean more forces on hand. The other two warp points in Com-23 were watched by sensor buoys with special emphasis on the one that eventually lead to the Bandstand system. There wasn’t nearly enough ships to guard one warp point effectively, so Calixto settled on her previous strategy of letting the enemy come to her, and then judge if battle was a viable option.
The AFC announced its return to Com-23 on the same day it reclaimed Com-30. A pinnace came in, scanned the immediate area, and then transited back out. A minute later four pinnaces transited in, and while one stayed on the warp point the other three did a comprehensive sweep of the immediate 15 light-second area, destroying three scanner buoys. More distant buoys reported a total of 22 Axis hulls. It was going to take a scout to get a close read on the drive fields for a general notion on the type of ships involved. The Axis did give some help in that manner for all went at maximum tactical speed of a cruiser, making a beeline for the second warp point. With the distance involved the trip would take almost seven days.
A Fast Walker scout, on the direct route between Com-23’s first two warp points, waited until the ships were 16 light-seconds away before engaging its drive. In one minute the scout had its readings, coming about and retreating. The enemy formation was composed of 12 BCs, 6 CA freighters, 2 DDs and two apparent fleet carrier hulls. Four of the BC hulls were undersized and were of an unknown class. Four other BC hulls were bulky, signifying that they were freighters. Staying 12 LS ahead and maintain speed, the scout performed the role of an unneeded guide. At the halfway point there was a change. One carrier hulled-ship and two undersized BCs broke off and slowed to .05c on a heading that was 90 degrees from the base course of the rest of the ships. The scout stayed with the main group, though the crew wondered what that trio of ships was going to do.
For the next five days the Axis ships followed a random search pattern, changing course and speed often but generally in a counter-clockwise movement around the white dwarf component. The carrier hulled ship appeared to be just that, for it always had four fighters deployed in an arc ahead of the ship. Two buoys were found this way, and this proved crucial for one was a comm buoy.
Just an hour after lunch on the sixth day the group changed course again and moved at full speed for two hours. For this they were rewarded with a sensor contact that appeared 72 light-minutes out. They were on reciprocal courses, and would encounter each other in 16 hours at current speeds. At the six and ten hour marks the contact split in two with both moving at .05c. With those choices the Axis commander stayed with the contact that continued to close for the first split and then the one that broke away on the second. At the 12 light-minute mark sensor resolution was such that four contacts were determined to exist. Crews were sent to general quarters as combat range would be reached in less than three hours.
At the 20 light-second mark the Axis trio launched broods of fighters and small craft, their speed only slightly faster than the ships for the moment. The Hokum waited until two minutes later before launching their fighters and coming about, reducing the closure rate to 1.5 LS per minute. The CVS increased its speed to full and detuned its engines shortly thereafter. Tactical scanners listed the number of Hatchet fighters as 12 and small craft 32. Further refinement revealed the Hatchets having the same energy signature as their Hokum F1 Spear counterparts. As for the small craft 20 of them were tagged as armed pinnaces for their power output was noticeably high, signifying that fire control and internal gun mounts were active. For the 12 remaining craft they were unknown in the database. Larger than shuttles and smaller than pinnaces their capabilities won’t be known until combat ensues.
The range continued to drop; the Hokum planned for their 18 Spears to engage the enemy strike when it was one light-second out from the ships. They just kept out of range of the armed pinnaces’ point defense mounts, only to be treated to the armament of the 12 unknown oversized shuttles. Of the Spears five were shot down by what were tentatively identified as counter-missiles used by improved point defense systems. That information was assessed and passed along a tight-beam communications laser aimed at a buoy 8 light-minutes distant. In turn the message was relayed to another comm buoy, and then to another. Regardless of what happens at least Admiral Calixto would know about it.
The three Hokum ships - two FT8 freighters and a Type B frigate - targeted the Axis armed pinnaces while the Spears took on the Hatchets at point blank range. Four fighters were knocked out with a combination of gun packs and proximity-fused close attack missiles. The intact Hatchet squadron fired a full salvo of 18 stand-off missiles with 14 locking onto the frigate. Withholding some point defense the frigate destroyed 10 missiles, losing shields and nearly all of its armor. Shifting gears, the other intact Spear squadron took on a like number of armed pinnaces, taking down five. Only the needle beam on the frigate eliminated a pinnace, its death proving like the five before it that it had FRAMs on its external racks. The mystery shuttles provided that their point defense mounts was just as effective as the ship variety at point blank range. All the Spears where knocked down, and what lasers packs remained fired on the frigate, wrecking up to the first engine room past the shuttle bay.
The Hatchets broke away, leaving the shuttles and armed pinnaces to attack the Hokum trio. Generation maximum ECM, the frigate fired as a singleton, taking down three armed pinnaces. Return fire crippled the ship, and was avenged when one of the FT8 splashed four pinnaces. An impressive achievement for an auxiliary, and on that note both FT8 were destroyed as anti-matter and lasers pierced defenses and collapsed the weak interiors. The carrier-hulled Axis ship had a HET laser and fired on the frigate, destroying the last engine for the range wasn’t close enough for a one-shot kill. The defiant ship fired two courier drones set a maximum speed and leveled its needle beam on the big Axis ship, scoring a solitary hit on its shields. Instead of destroying the insolent craft the Axis ships launched their shuttles for a boarding action. Three shuttles latched on and disgorged boarding parties. In no time what remained of the crew was killed. Finding no intact computers the Axis commander had the ship destroyed.
While satisfied with the performance of the Stiletto escort shuttle and Machete armed pinnace, despite the losses of the latter, the Axis commander still had no inkling of where the Hokum were hiding in the system. Now moving at cruising speed rather ran risk having engines burn out the trio of ships resumed its random search pattern. The other three Hokum ships that had broken off – the Imperial Wave carrier, Red Seal freighter, and Hostel transport – remained at full speed for two days before stepping down to cruising levels. It would be two months of following a seemingly random pattern of their own that the ships would reach the spot where the mobile yards sat.
Admiral Calixto regarded the loss of the two freighters as only a temporary, yet regrettable, setback. With the comm buoy destroyed earlier there was no way to inform the ships of the Axis presence until it was too late. It wasn’t the time to take a risk and have the freighters come directly to her ships. Had the enemy learned of the actual strength of the Hokum presence then they would’ve been tempted to send another, much larger force to finally secure Com-23. Thankfully enough resources were on hand, as well as irregular runs of cargo pinnaces, to finish the conversion of all captured Axis ships and repair just enough systems so as to allow them to travel back to Whel to be refitted. Calixto had been looking forward having those captured warships augment her command, but news from home promised to make up for the shortfall. New construction, including some with the latest refits and more importantly new ordnance, was on the way. With those forces in hand it was possible to go on a limited offensive. Thanks to the information provided by the Commonwealth allies the direction of that offensive was clear.
Both the Imperium and the Commonwealth decided to share information on Axis systems that supported populations. One of these was Battlement, currently under siege by the Valhallan Royal Fleet. Already known from captured data, Battlement was three transits out from Com-23. So far all Axis ships encountered have been coming from Bandstand, just two transits away. The military hulled convoy that blazed its way across Com-23 at full speed clearly was meant to support Axis forces in Battlement. Calixto send a tight-beam communication to a comm buoy right next to the Com-23/Com-9 warp point, passing the information up the chain to headquarters. The appearance of Axis armed pinnaces and antimatter ordnance, not to mention an altogether new type of small craft, was deemed important enough to send immediately.
In the meantime plans were drawn up to fortify the warp point that lead up to Bandstand. Also given attention was the new group of Axis ships and the three Fleet Tracker scouts left over from the battle three months ago. Calixto wanted these ships neutralized so they wouldn’t spy and interfere with her planned build up. Until then it was the all-too-familiar waiting game.
88888888
Within the security of the Comensal colonial enclave on Elotoshani Prime was System Admiral Wanfel, head of the AFC’s Eloto branch of the Science Development Bureau. He was in his den, enjoying the sunrise as it poured into the room as he ate breakfast alone. His wife was still on the colony world of Open Campus and will only arrive once the house under construction on this planet was completed. There was nothing really preventing her from coming now as the old house was being used by the eldest daughter. Wanfel, being old fashion, didn’t want any interference, however unintentional and well-meaning, until the new house was ready to accept occupants.
A report scrawled across the screen on the table where Wanfel sat. It concerned the progress of the new combined shuttle bay system, and so far the handful of pinnace tenders so refitted had performed well in operational exercises. Once in widespread service the AFC will have a 20% advantage in carrying small craft, especially armed pinnaces. Along with other weapons being fielded by the fleet it those damned Aboms will have to play expensive catch-up.
With a level of warranted smugness Wanfel read the report of the first use of fighter life support packs in actual combat conditions. It was in the Battlement system, and a fleet crewed by those red-skinned Valhallan aboms had set out to reduce the system defenses. A small Abom detachment, upon seeing the large number of F0 Hatchets congregated about the moons of the system’s second gas giant, elected to move away. They believed they had the required time and distance, but the packs ruined that belief. Even with the belated application of engine detuning the fighters continued to close. The enemy sustained damage that would otherwise not been possible though it resulted in the loss of all the fighters involved. Even with the life support packs the Hatchets had to go beyond the point of no return, and with FRAMs fired those Hatchets that remained conducted ramming attacks, dying nonetheless if successful or not.
Though he despised the Eloto aboms Wanfel had to admit they came through with something original this time. Now much larger and farther-reaching fighter strikes were possible, enabling the defenders of Battlement to stymie the Abom fleet until reinforcements arrived. Out of curiosity the System Admiral ran a simulation of the aforementioned battle that used F1 Hatchets equipped with one life support pack and two FRAMs each instead of F0 Hatchets with one pack and one FRAM each. It was while in-between bites of breakfast roll that the simulation crashed. Wanfel tried to restart it, only to experience the frustration of ancient computer users as insistent error messages appeared, saying that the central database had become corrupted.
Wanfel sighed and finished his breakfast. He got into his uniform and left for the R&D building. Corrupted databases were an exceedingly rare event, but back-ups were kept like any good researcher would do. The office was informed, Wanfel fully expecting to restart the simulation as soon as he got behind his desk. It was going to be too fine a day to have it marred by a simple computer crash.
