Read Online Starfist: Kingdom's Fury by David Sherman & Dan Cragg - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: David Sherman & Dan Cragg
Tags: Military science fiction
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Heaven's Heights.
"Twenty-sixth's cooks and bakers will meet you," Brigadier Sturgeon told him.
"They're under the command of the security section commander. You have operational command."
"Cooks and bakers." Half a millennium earlier, in a war that had engulfed most of Old Earth, the expression had been literal. It soon came to mean all rear echelon personnel. The Confederation Marine Corps believed, as had the United States Marines and the Royal Marines to whom it traced its ancestry, that every Marine was a blasterman first and a "cook and baker" second. The understrength company of clerks and supplymen, cooks and messmen, who met Company L at the bottom of the south end of Heaven's Heights were well-trained as infantry, even though few, other than the twenty Marines of the headquarters security section, had experience in combat.
The Dragons carrying the two companies didn't pause. They got smoothly on line and began their ascent of the ridge, Company L on the right, the cooks and bakers on the left.
"Lieutenant, it's down and dirty," Conorado said as soon as he established communications with the commander of his reinforcements. "There's no finesse involved, no tricky maneuvers. We dismount just before the Skinks come into sight, line up, and charge. It's the same kind of frontal assault armies have been using since the time of the Sumerians. Align on me and keep up. That's all there is to it.
Questions?"
"Sounds pretty straightforward." The lieutenant—Conorado didn't know his name—sounded nervously excited. Conorado assumed that the man hadn't seen action in a while.
"One more thing." The captain examined his latest sitmap. "They're still massed so densely it's hard to believe the artillery had any effect on them. You've never seen so many live bodies on a battlefield at one time before."
He'd barely finished speaking when the Dragons lurched to a halt and their rear ramps dropped. The Marines flooded out. Squad and fire team leaders shouted their men into line ahead of the Dragons. Conorado gave the order, and more than two hundred Marines ran on line up the slope. They clearly heard the din raised by the Skinks, even through the continuing explosions of artillery rounds.
The artillery, after firing a brief concentration over the southern end of the ridge, shifted its fire to the northern end before the infantry reached the top.
This time they didn't smash into the Skinks. The nearest were seventy meters away when the Marines came in sight of them. There were so many, it seemed all the Skinks in the universe were swarming over the defenses of Heaven's Heights.
"Volley fire, seventy meters!" Conorado shouted over the all-hands circuit.
"Advance . . . Fire! . . . Advance . . . Fire . . . Advance . . ."
The fire from the right side of the Marine line was smooth. The Marines of Company L fired in unison, took two steps forward and fired again on command.
Their volleys went true, a wall of fire slamming into the Skinks, vaporizing them by the score. The line's left side, the "cooks and bakers," was more ragged. Except for the security section, they weren't on a good line and their fire was uneven, with many bolts flying high. Still, by the time the Marines cut the distance to the first Skinks in half, they'd obliterated nearly all of the closest enemy soldiers.
The Skinks on Heaven's Heights, though, weren't as disorganized as they had been on Hymnal Hill. Even though the vastly outnumbered Marines in the bunkers fought valiantly, the twelve guns of the two FISTs' artillery batteries couldn't pound the ridge as intensely as they had the smaller hilltop, and the Skinks had suffered a much lower casualty rate. It didn't take long for the Skink commanders of the nearest units to organize a defense against this new threat. Commands were barked out and hundreds of Skinks charged the Marines.
In response, Conorado stopped the Marine advance and had his men fire volley after volley into the charging Skinks. The
"Twenty-sixth's cooks and bakers will meet you," Brigadier Sturgeon told him.
"They're under the command of the security section commander. You have operational command."
"Cooks and bakers." Half a millennium earlier, in a war that had engulfed most of Old Earth, the expression had been literal. It soon came to mean all rear echelon personnel. The Confederation Marine Corps believed, as had the United States Marines and the Royal Marines to whom it traced its ancestry, that every Marine was a blasterman first and a "cook and baker" second. The understrength company of clerks and supplymen, cooks and messmen, who met Company L at the bottom of the south end of Heaven's Heights were well-trained as infantry, even though few, other than the twenty Marines of the headquarters security section, had experience in combat.
The Dragons carrying the two companies didn't pause. They got smoothly on line and began their ascent of the ridge, Company L on the right, the cooks and bakers on the left.
"Lieutenant, it's down and dirty," Conorado said as soon as he established communications with the commander of his reinforcements. "There's no finesse involved, no tricky maneuvers. We dismount just before the Skinks come into sight, line up, and charge. It's the same kind of frontal assault armies have been using since the time of the Sumerians. Align on me and keep up. That's all there is to it.
Questions?"
"Sounds pretty straightforward." The lieutenant—Conorado didn't know his name—sounded nervously excited. Conorado assumed that the man hadn't seen action in a while.
"One more thing." The captain examined his latest sitmap. "They're still massed so densely it's hard to believe the artillery had any effect on them. You've never seen so many live bodies on a battlefield at one time before."
He'd barely finished speaking when the Dragons lurched to a halt and their rear ramps dropped. The Marines flooded out. Squad and fire team leaders shouted their men into line ahead of the Dragons. Conorado gave the order, and more than two hundred Marines ran on line up the slope. They clearly heard the din raised by the Skinks, even through the continuing explosions of artillery rounds.
The artillery, after firing a brief concentration over the southern end of the ridge, shifted its fire to the northern end before the infantry reached the top.
This time they didn't smash into the Skinks. The nearest were seventy meters away when the Marines came in sight of them. There were so many, it seemed all the Skinks in the universe were swarming over the defenses of Heaven's Heights.
"Volley fire, seventy meters!" Conorado shouted over the all-hands circuit.
"Advance . . . Fire! . . . Advance . . . Fire . . . Advance . . ."
The fire from the right side of the Marine line was smooth. The Marines of Company L fired in unison, took two steps forward and fired again on command.
Their volleys went true, a wall of fire slamming into the Skinks, vaporizing them by the score. The line's left side, the "cooks and bakers," was more ragged. Except for the security section, they weren't on a good line and their fire was uneven, with many bolts flying high. Still, by the time the Marines cut the distance to the first Skinks in half, they'd obliterated nearly all of the closest enemy soldiers.
The Skinks on Heaven's Heights, though, weren't as disorganized as they had been on Hymnal Hill. Even though the vastly outnumbered Marines in the bunkers fought valiantly, the twelve guns of the two FISTs' artillery batteries couldn't pound the ridge as intensely as they had the smaller hilltop, and the Skinks had suffered a much lower casualty rate. It didn't take long for the Skink commanders of the nearest units to organize a defense against this new threat. Commands were barked out and hundreds of Skinks charged the Marines.
In response, Conorado stopped the Marine advance and had his men fire volley after volley into the charging Skinks. The
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