Episode 14

A Tough Nut to Crack

Some fairytale castle spires rose like crystals above the city as we started down into the valley. Now we were in the fields, mostly stubble at this time of year except for winter grains. The air was misty and chill and I heard the lowing of cattle somewhere in the night. Rows of leaf-less grape vines twisted on wires and I spied a row of wind turbines here and there above the fields, still in the calm night air. Now and again we passed a farm house but most of them had their lights off. I assumed the families had fled. The night was quiet and cool.

CRACK! there was a shot and one of our men fell. Off the road—to the right—an earth bank. “Sniper!” someone yelled. “We got him,” Jock yelled in the radio. “Keep us covered.” He slapped my shoulder and we took off. On my thermals I could just make out two signatures, about 100 meters up behind a wall. Jock and I ran at a diagonal and jumped the wall, then nailed them as they tried to flee.

When we got back to the line our men had already moved the wounded soldier and we were back on our way.

That was the last bit of trouble until we hit the base near the outskirts of the city. The big guns were already in place, and the armor was arranged in a bristling metal wall pointed towards Malliol.

Almost as we arrived, the Ulimbese cannon boomed with an opening volley into the city. From behind the large cannon and from scattered locations on high ground, mortar teams sent in shells, streaking up and above and then down into the fairytale city.

The lights in Malliol started to go out in patches as the heavy projectiles did their work. And the Ulimbese had plenty of ammo on hand. There was not much return fire coming out of the city. The Corwies had some artillery of their own, but their counterfire was ineffective. They must not have boresighted the surrounding heights, which suggested that their commanders were both ill-prepared and incompetent.

Colonel Emerson informed us that the first offensive would begin right after the shelling and would be conducted by three regiments of crack imperial troops. Their flashy uniforms cracked me up as we watched them move into position. Someone should have told them that war isn’t a fashion shoot.

The guns pounded and pounded, bombarding the city for an hour, turning it into a hellscape, now lit by flames more than electric lights, while beneath the covering fire, the Ulimbese infantry advanced behind the armored columns.

And then the guns ceased. The Ulimbese must be entering the outskirts. And then, from behind us, we heard the gunships take to the air, then fly over. They had multiple guns on their bottoms which could cut down troops from above like a scythe through wheat.

“Give these guys another eye in the sky,” Colonel Emerson said over the radio. “Get a drone up there.”

The armor started trading fire with pockets of resistance.

I found a good vantage point, zoomed my goggles and tuned in to the chatter on the Ulimbese channel.

“…main road—we have barricades here…”

“…snipers—upper floors—neutralize…”

“…machine gun nests, multiple… we have incoming…”

“…take cover… watch it… three o’clock…”

“…gonna need more air cover here—bring ’em in—a lot of incoming!”

I saw plenty of fire coming out along the roads, blinking, tracers coming down from above, and then the Ulimbese gunships swept in, launching missiles towards the fortified Corwistalian strongpoints. They took out a few in spectacular fashion. I hoped the gunships had armor as they flew low over the city walls, sweeping the ground with fire. I didn’t see much in the way of return fire, as they went deeper into the city, seeking out targets. And then I heard the Ulimbese radio erupt into panicked chatter, then saw the flash of a gunship hitting the ground and disappearing into a ball of fire. I zoomed out, then saw a streak of light lance upwards from inside the city and take down a second gunship.

“…surface-to-air! We have spotted multiple SAM teams! Repeat, pull back the gunships! Surface-to-air!”

But the order came too late and the gunships were in too deep. A swarm of missiles streaked skywards from all sides and enough of them found their targets. In a matter of minutes, the Ulimbese had lost their air support, and then the machine guns opened up again, keeping the Ulimbese troops on their bellies behind the advancing armor. Then there was another fireball as an anti-tank gun took out one of the Ulimbese tanks. Despite the city being softened by artillery, the imperials were getting chewed to pieces by the tough Corwistalian defenders.

“…unable to take out defense, secondary road, concrete slabs…”

“…on the East, still encountering heavy fire, unable to advance…”

And then I saw Marks slam his fist into his palm. He’d heard something on our channel. I switched back.

“…gone blank, we lost it.”

“We can’t afford to launch another. There’s no way to get new ones right now.”

“Roger—out.”

We’d lost another drone then. I wondered how many we had left. Rocky nudged me out of my observation. “We need to get in there, Tommy, show ’em how to do it.” I’m sure the brass were thinking the same thing. And if I knew what they had in mind, we were gonna get called in to play tag. Laser tag.

A few moments of fruitless skirmishing later, the Ulimbese retreated as their big guns opened up again, suppressing the enemy in order to give them a chance to pull back without being pursued. It wasn’t a rout, but it was a sound ass-kicking.