Episode 11
Empty Static
If you’ve ever been hunted by an AI drone, you know it’s no picnic. I’d rather face a charging Mephistan blood hog than go eye to eye with a killer robot. Those bastards have everything from venom needles to sonic weapons to macerating blades, in the case of the nasty Mk. II terror mods. But these drones weren’t like that—they were some sort of old-tech dumb drones. A guy actually sat somewhere with a joystick and controlled the thing, pressing buttons to shoot or punching in a kill code to trigger kamikaze mode for those armed with explosives.
We sat in silence, watching the skies for what seemed like an hour, and all the while the booming thump of the cannon sounded, over and over, taking out too many of our allies.
And then we saw them, black against the deep sky, long wings making the stars blink in and out. One, then another, heading towards that ridge. Deadly quiet, high above. I remembered that model. They could fire missiles or be used as a flying bomb. Since we couldn’t paint the target with lasers to allow a smart strike, I was guessing they would do the latter.
The night suddenly fell quiet and it stayed that way for a little while. The cannons had quit firing. Were they out of ammunition? I peered toward the ridge and magnified. I could just make out the gun’s barrel. Then I saw the muzzle flash, and a few seconds later heard the deep booming sound roll over the hills. And then there was another crack. They had two stationed there, I realized.
The volley did nothing that I could tell. I couldn’t see the drones anymore but they had to be almost over their targets. The cannons fired again, and then there was an big explosion that wasn’t gunfire. A moment later, it was followed by another!
“YEEEEEEEAH! We got ’em!” someone yelled over the radio. I saw Rocky pump his fist and Jock slapped me on the back.
And then, just when I thought we’d shut them down, I saw more lights approaching from inside Corwistalian territory. They’d be here in perhaps twenty minutes.
“Back to base, 1st—now!” came Colonel Emerson’s voice over the radio. “We’ve got a situation here. 2nd, you will reinforce the Ulimbese armor and help them hold off the enemy assault.”
“Captain?” Jock said on Marks’s channel. “What’s going on back there? We’ve got some incoming here too.”
The radio crackled and hissed and it took a moment, then Marks came on the line. “Under... attack here, got a problem, too. Big problem. Get back! Watch for tanks, watch for–” and then there was a pop, followed by dead air.
“Captain!” Jock said. “Captain—do you read? Do you read?”
Nothing but empty static.
“Let’s git!” Jock said and we started back towards base, meeting up with men as we did. We passed Park’s tree and that stupid owl was still sitting over there. Maybe he was the smart one.
We reached the bridge, still intact—thank space—and we met more of our men there, and then, as we got to the edge of the woods, we could see the wrecked restaurant sitting silent like a beached leviathan. Clear, but we could hear the pitched sounds of battle from beyond the teeth of the armored wall of the base. We fell back as fast as we could, flooding in through the rear of the base. Looking around. I saw no sign of Captain Marks anywhere, but the place was a madhouse. We had mortars coming in overhead from the opposite side.
“The fun never ends!” Rocky yelled at me. “They must’ve come in from the other side while we were out in the woods.” He picked up a fallen machine gun, checked the magazine, winked and headed across.
I tossed my damaged pack on the ground against a pillar and took a swig from my canteen, then left the pack and went to the other side. On the way I caught a worried Ulimbese infantryman by the arm. “Hey,” I said, “what’s happening?”
“Corwie assault on the east flank. Hey, weren’t you guys were supposed to bring in more armor?”
“Yeah, it should be here.”
“No,” he shook his head. “I didn’t see any. Hey, I gotta run!”
What the hell? Our armor was supposed to have landed right behind us. Where was it? The second transport was also carrying most of our rations, ammo, our big guns, sheesh—even pre-fab buildings, not to mention field hospital supplies. Where in the damn system was it?