(Art source unknown)
Index: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
Chapter 3
Prudent Invaders
Supreme Colonel Sayzen of the Taz’aran Imperium’s stormtrooper corps watched with merciless calm the drone holo-footage of wrecked grav-craft and smoldering armored corpses. This elaborate battle maneuver, though competently planned and organized, failed and in a most spectacular manner. One of his own stormtrooper units, the 1048th Balengars died almost to a man, including their veteran mecha support and the priceless, elite dropship wing, which pulled their armored asses out of countless pickles.
Not this time.
The command center of her Ladyship Countess Mageia’s flagship, the monitor ITS Drakh was not just equipped well, it was literally overloaded with tech. The colonel, had he been an officer of the Taz’aran Imperial Navy, would’ve marveled at the shiny, brand new systems. He would note the faster reaction and increased efficiency of all staff officers thanks to upgraded, cutting edge holo-controls. Instead, the man focused his gene-grafted eyes upon the ship’s main scanner station, hoping that this system in particular was the best her ladyship could get her hands on.
Without accurate intelligence, he and his troopers were just a bunch of useless eaters.
His trained mind had screened the holo-footage several times already. Sayzen noticed vehicle tracks and discerned the specific driving pattern of Terr’aan special operators. If his stormtroopers were the elite, then these barbarous Humans or whoever of their clients they’d sent here, they had to be ultra elite.
The colonel could not watch direct feed from the initial stealth drop since someone had botched the implementation of their new orbital comm link sec-codes. This allowed the aforementioned Terr’aan special operators to temporary ruin one of the wireless networks and even hack some of the vehicles, crashing them into one another. Followup observations from scout drones demonstrated sniper-like precision, the implementation of high-powered vibroblades and overpowered shredder type weapons from point-blank range.
Sayzen could count the enemy team numbers using Taz’aran Imperial special operator doctrine or TISO, and they had to at least be of platoon size. However, the colonel was not an armchair wonder, but a field officer. He knew the Terr’aans had manpower shortages to begin with and thus, he assumed the enemy special ops team was a squad size formation. Meaning, they would be even harder to locate when on the move...
“Colonel, what is your assessment?” – Lord General Kulin’s voice boomed from his command chair, fingertips crossed before his chin.
If one could even attempt to give Kulin a label, insidious would fit him to a tee.
The oldster’s armored uniform sported a thin line of metal pips instead of the literal walls of medals, which pampered generals liked to decorate themselves with. Immaculate, said uniform was augmented with nano-forged, flexible armored plates, capable of stopping even rifle caliber particle-beams. One old, but beyond deadly pair of beam pistol and vibro sword complemented the general’s gear.
Sayzen volunteered to be assigned under Kulin, because this one was not just efficient and a no nonsense commander, but rarely lost a battle. The general was famed for his meticulously prepared and perfectly executed battle plans and had singlehandedly defeated some of the best commanders of the Imperium’s most hated enemies, the Taksian Directorate. These days, he would lead the private invasions of rich border counts, like her ladyship Mageia’s bold strike against the Terr’aan Empire.
“Lord General, sir!” – the colonel snapped a short salute, as if they were not on the bridge of a warship, but down in the bloody dirt and under enemy fire – “Exactly as we discussed beforehand, the Terr’aan planetary command was forced to employ their last reserve. To counter my elite stormtroopers and your devastatingly efficient plan, they had to have had a specialist troop on stand by. We now only need detect them, follow their movements, and eventually surround these commandos. Top choice on my list is orbital, then air, and last but not least, long-range arty. Milord General, if everything else fails... well... then we will have to get our vibroblades dirty and slag some power packs.”
One of the staff Ops officers attempted to triangulate a precise scan of the most recent battle zone and when this failed due to ferocious sensor interference, she produced a hazy holo-optics footage. Prudently, following the destruction of most stealth units intent on striking the rear of this Terr’aan formation, the Taz’aran mechanized troops’ frontal attack got called off. Line infantry still probed enemy entrenchments, trying to infiltrate a squad here and a platoon there, but those were careful attacks and they retreated the second Terr’aan firepower began pounding them bad.
As if to make things even worse, that large military truck Colonel Sayzen noticed earlier, had to have been loaded with a bunch of spare munitions and even more of the accursed Terr’aan railgun small arms. Missiles... them too. A number of their air assets got slagged by these stealthy, nigh impossible to hack or jam Terr’aan munitions. The colonel had ordered his stormtroopers to deactivate all RPG guidance modules or risk getting blown up by their own missiles.
“I can’t order another orbital.” – creaked the general’s dry voice, as he sipped cold movlefe from a dinted soldier’s cup – “The locals ripped five of my invader ships to shreds with their anti-orbital lasers. Only a fool would fly their capships deeper into the planetary grav-well.”
“Railguns.” – nodded the colonel.
“According to the last bits of scan-data,” – grumbled Kulin, swiping another holo-file on his command chair – “their multiple anti-orbital assets are mobile. If that was not enough, the Humans have built an underground tunnel network to move them about.”
“Then my stormtroopers have to go planetside, find, and deal with these commandos the old school way. Or...” – Sayzen stopped motioning at the planet, his closed fist opening in a motion resembling an explosion – “if it is your order, Milord General, blow some of these elusive Terr’aan anti-orbitals, make your battleday comfortable.”
General Kulin’s otherwise emotionless, dried like a husk face, it was adorned by the tiniest of smirks. The man threw one cursory glance at her ladyship, a middle-aged, sinewy Taz’aran noblewoman who sipped wine in her lavish command throne, surrounded by clad in red armor Sec-Nav executioners and elaborated – “Colonel, we are on a tight timeframe. Her Excellence was quite correct when she said that we are to shatter organized Terr’aan defenses and capture at least sixty percent of their soil in one star-week. Otherwise, there won’t be any time to deploy all of our assets planetside and repel the Terr’aan Empire’s inevitable counter attack. We cannot do any of that if they deny our troops orbital support.”
“Lord General, it is much better to have our defense satellites in orbit, their long-range heavy beamguns slagging Terr’aan ships.” – the colonel tapped the top of his left glove twice in a traditionally widespread gesture which Taz’aran stormtroopers expressed their eagerness to attack with – “Then our goal is their tunnel network and mobile cannons.”
“Yes, and I am going to redeploy that mechanized infantry as your backup.” – began the general following another sip of ice cold movlefe, pointing at a section of the battle order map – “The 3022nd will take and hold this elevated position, while you and your second stormtrooper company investigate reconnaissance scan-data, right there.”
Colonel Sayzen studied the info provided by a mixture of scanning, orbital observations, and field scouts’ reports.
Terr’aans were sneaky. However, no matter how furtive one was, operating and maintaining mobile anti-orbital cannons from an underground tunnel network had certain specific limitations. Said concealed tunnels were not at all tiny and they had to have thick, wide, armored gates. Ordinary holo-decoys, sensor and orbital surveillance jammers, and shield generators could protect said tunnels for a short while.
If applied correctly, stealth could win you the most valuable battlefield resource – time.
“Mylord General,” – Sayzen opened his mouth only when he was sure of a sound plan how to implement the reconnaissance info he was given – “we need only take and hold this hill for four star-hours tops. My men will use seismic charges in conjunction with the line troopers’ vehicle scan gear. When we find a tunnel entrance, demolition packs will clear the way. Riding on their AFVs, our glide-raiders will then exploit the breach we made for them. With luck, they might cripple and capture enough of the Terr’aan anti-orbital capabilities, give your Lordship’s starcraft safe orbital approach.”
Colonel Sayzen made a smooth gesture when he mentioned the famous mechanized Taz’aran troops. Leveled before his chest, his hand moved from left to right and then up, imitating the AFVs signature attack leap. General Kulin and he were professional military men, they knew all the swear words, every obscure army or navy veteran hand sign. Moreover, both had commanded their own troops personally and from the front. The Lord General even invented some of the modern jargon, including the famous word “beaming”. This was the quite important act of permanent removal, reserved only for inept commanding officers.
“Do what you can, Colonel. I’ll have a wing of Black Leaves fitted with precision munitions on stand by. Ops will upload you the new comm sec-codes.” – said Kulin, as he finished his cup of movlefe and rose from the chair to refill it, his polished to perfection armored boots clinking over the floor-plating.
The general was weird in his own way. Kulin did not allow his adjutants to serve him food or beverages and he absolutely despised fops who purchased their officer commissions.
“I could go away with field arty, Mylord General, save the skaers for one of your sudden strikes.”
Kulin shot his ladyship a cursory glance and as he refilled his cup, tapped its bottom with three fingers. On the field, this usually meant that there was not enough drink or food rations, but during staff meetings, Taz’aran officers used this sign to alert each other of munition shortages.
“Acknowledged, Lord General, sir! Our Black Leaves will be utilized only when absolutely needed.”
Colonel Sayzen left the command center. Transported by the ship’s magtubes, he soon reached the monitor’s lateral hangar bay. Ready to deploy, the stormtroopers of his second company awaited him in immaculate formation. Carrying snub beamguns, but also shortened assault rifles, hand grenades with programmable trajectories, and compact RPGs, his soldiers saluted him by tapping their forearms. Just as he did before the general, they too were eager to invade, to conquer, and kill in the name of the Imperium.
Clad in their best gear, the initial cost of which came out of his own pocket and later augmented thanks to battlefield success, capturing Molnia Prime could transform their elite formation from a reinforced battalion into a full invader division. If her Ladyship’s political goals were completed, then funds and resources would flow to this backwater border of the Taz’aran Imperium.
Sayzen was well aware that the war against the Taksian Directorate was at best a stalemate and at worst, practically unwinnable. They were too evenly matched in numbers and equipment, even with the added bonus of the Directorate’s massive corruption and their incompetent political officers effectively sabotaging their war effort. The Taz’aran Imperium was in dire need of an advantage and the savage Terr’aans seemingly had one in each pocket. If they could capture and reverse engineer one of their railguns or laser cannons, barbarous as these olden-tech weapons were, that would be more than enough of an edge against the Directorate.
The Colonel gave an order to deploy and his troopers boarded their dropships and armored pods. Indeed, just as his general assured him, the Ops officer sent Sayzen a bunch of sec-codes. Yet, what was his surprise when hidden among said codes, the veteran discovered a text message:
“IES”
What exactly was the Imperial Extermination Service doing here, Colonel Sayzen did not give one rotting wozzy worth. The very fact they infiltrated a assassin in his unit, meant that either his old enemies back from the Army Academy days were after him, or someone in Frontier Naval Command planned something dirty. When the IES was at work, oftentimes entire armies were sacrificed, and the colonel did not wish to become somebody else’s collateral damage.
I love this. It reminds me of some of what must have been running through the heads of some of the British forces during the American Revolution.
This chapter really show how full of themselves they are. This will make their defeat that much sweeter.