Night Sky (Part II)
by Fabio Fontana
Something deep penetrated Fert’s dreams
for an instant. It was a high pitched whistling sound. In his sleep,
Fert remembered that the sound was very important, but couldn’t
quite remember why. He knew he ought to remember, but at the moment that
sound had no meaning… then hell was let loose. The Earth
shook so hard that Fert thought he had just fallen on it. A hail of
stones and debris hit him digging cuts into his face and hands.
He could hear multiple explosions nearby.
Another shell landed close enough to literally lift him off the ground.
Get away from here! screamed a voice in his head. He opened
his eyes and tried to scramble to his feet. Halfway up he glanced
at the night sky: it looked like the fiery firmament from the end of
the world he had seen on a vid. Hailing down on the whole MLF line
were burning meteorites of destruction. He had never seen such a mass
bombardment: there was nowhere to run. Dazzled, he threw
himself against the side of the nearest pile of dirt, crammed his knees against
his chest and held on tight to his helmet.
There was nothing to do except sit and wait;
the ground shook again and showers of dark earth hit him violently.
Fert didn’t know how long it lasted. Minutes, certainly, but
how many? When the deafening noise ceased to leave space for an unreal
silence, he didn’t notice. Only one sound woke him up from the
trance: the cries of pain. Taking the hands off his ears he looked
up; the preliminary barrage had ended and someone was screaming in
pain not far away. Not just one, but many, the screams of pain were everywhere around him.
He crawled over the mound he was leaning
against and looked at the scene laid out in front of him. The R-gun crew had
taken a shell right in the middle of their position. One of the crew
members was writhing on the ground. The R-gun controller, with whom
he had spoken to earlier, was just to the side of the crater. Her
body was horribly torn. There was no sign of the third crew member.
The private crawled over to the wounded
crewmember. His fatigues were soaked in warm fluid gushed from the multiple
wounds that lay beneath. Several pieces of shrapnel had penetrated
deep into his thorax and abdomen. Fert didn’t have enough
bandages to cover all the wounds so he sprayed them with fast
coagulant and pressed the bandages he had as best as he could against
those injuries that looked worst.
“Thanks… “ whispered the
crew-member, “… I feel less pain now. Amazing
pain-killers… I only feel a little cold now.”
“Do you have a communicator? You need a
medic," said Fert trying not to show preoccupation. He had not
administered the soldier any pain-killers.
“Sure… Mag’s got one with
the remote,” stuttered the trooper. He had started to shiver
badly.
“Ok, I’ll be back shortly. I will
get you a medic,” said Fert as he bundled the trooper as best
as he could in a blanket.
Mag, the R-gun controller, was dead. There was
no need to get closer to be certain of it. The R-gun was similarly
dismembered. Fert strapped the night optics back on: there was some
interference, but they still worked. He searched for the
communicator and found it close by. Hoping that it would still work,
Fert activated the emergency beacon signal and moved back to the
wounded R-gun crew member. When he got there, however, the soldier
wasn’t breathing anymore. He lowered his head and let the
remote fall down. In the distance, other cries of pain could be heard
and overhead, like a storm of comets, hundreds of shells flew in
unison towards the enemy lines. The counter-artillery strike had
begun. This meant that the enemy had begun to push through.
***
Pausing only to pick up his laser rifle and the
automatic pistol from the dead soldier, Fert run back to the dug-out.
The first shells from the MLF artillery hit the ground creating
globes of yellow light on the horizon. He threw himself down into
the trench next to Renen, who had survived the bombardment unscatherd.
“You are alive!” exclaimed
Renan almost surprised.
“What about the rest?”
“Brown, Kein, the sergeant and Brunswick
are fine, the rest are wounded or dead. The sergeant is trying to
get orders.”
“Are they coming?”
Renen did not reply, he simply lifted his thumb
and waved it towards the enemy lines. Fert peered over the rim to
see what was coming.
Dozens of flying objects were visible in the
distance. Fert switched on the auto-recognition device in his visor.
Red contours started to appear around several of the objects. The
readings were mostly for Gunship-VI incursors, medium-sized flyers
designed for close support roles. Amongst them were also Dragonfly
class transports. They were going to glide over the proximity
sensors, over the mine fields and drop the infantry right on top of
them. Farther away he could see some other shapes on the ground.
Probably some ground armour, but it was not their main problem at the
moment.
“Ok people, the Earthmen are coming! The
anti-aircraft batteries are ready to shoot them down. Stay low and
prepare to mop up the survivors!” ordered sergeant Rightmann.
Bursts of light flashed in Fert’s visor
and he quickly retracted his head. Instants later explosions from the
long-distance weaponry of the gunships started to hit the MLF lines
sending debris over their heads.
What followed was a wait that seemed to last
forever. As the enemy flew closer bringing death to their positions,
seconds seemed to span minutes. The whining engines of the gunships
were now clearly audible. Where were the anti-aircraft batteries? How
many had survived that massed preliminary fire? To little avail he
tried to readjust his light-enhancing optics to remove the
interference: they were definitely damaged.
When the flying transports and gunships were
less than two kilometres from their position, the MLF lines let out a
hail of fire. Although he could not see them, Fert imagined dozens of
R-gun crews operating their robotic platforms, the servo-controlled
devices tracking and shooting down the targets. Laser and projectile
bursts started to hit the enemy ships, some
glancing off the armour and others penetrating their thin shells. A few
hundred meters in front of the dug-out a gunship was sliced
diagonally. It twisted like a clay figure and started a vertical
dive that ended in a ball of green flames.
The gunships replied with all of their on-board
weaponry. Tracking the shots to the source, they let loose
fire-and-forget missiles and turret-mounted turbo lasers. More
explosions shook the second line of defences. As the defensive fire
started to die away, Fert’s thoughts went back to the R-gun crew he
had seen earlier.
With a roaring tail of blue fire, a Dragonfly
transport dived over Fert’s head to crash within the MLF lines.
Heart pounding, Fert waited for the explosion that should have
followed the crash, but it did not come. The transport might still be
intact and its crew might have survived.
“Ok, let’s check it out!”
shouted the sergeant over the cacophony of the explosions.
Fert, Renen, Brown, Kein and Brunswick
scrambled to their feet and followed their officer. Around them,
flashes of light broke the darkness. It did not take long to reach
the downed vehicle, which was still burning. It had gone down and
then had slid for several meters digging a long canal.
They were just about to spread for the approach
when they were met by a hail of small arms fire.
Brown, hit at the legs, fell down screaming. The others threw
themselves flat down. Kein, who was closest to the injured soldier,
tried to drag him behind cover while Renen and the others opened fire towards
where they thought the shot had come from. Beams of coherent light,
only visible through the smoke and the light enhancing optics,
started to pepper the downed dragonfly and the nearby terrain.
Following the orders of their sergeant, Renen
and Fert moved off to approach the crash zone from the side. The
flying transport was embedded in the dirt like the carcass of a
long dead animal. Once they got close enough, they took a deep breath
and peered over the last ridge between them and the ship. To
their relief, they were not met by hostile fire.
The Dragonfly had slid a good hundred metres
before coming to a halt. It had an elongated shape, with a swollen front and
a thin stabilizing tail that made it resemble the homonymous insect.
The engines had exploded, probably hit by the anti-aircraft
fire, its belly had been torn open and was partially on fire. The
occupants, however, were still alive. Fert could see some of them
crawling out of the wreck even now, emerging from the flames in their
dark armours. Renen counted eleven at least. They had already set up
a defence perimeter and were preparing to move. Only Protectors of the
Rightful Earth Alliance were known to possess that kind of
discipline.
END OF PART II
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