Chapter 43: War Games
In the last few weeks of our training, our platoon was assembled inside the wargame arena. Much like the environment simulator, this was a sealed area the size of a large stadium, sequestered away from the rest of the training hangar. It was here we'd have our first taste of what a real fight would be like.
But before we could get into that, we had to be told, in meticulous detail, the parameters of this test. Lieutenant Quentin was insistent on reminding us on how important it was to adhere to the proper order of operations at all times.
"This may just be a simulated combat scenario," he began, "but even in a simulated combat scenario things can go wrong. Thus, it is essential that you keep in mind the following. I will not have any man or woman under my command injured or killed before we even get to see a real battle! We didn't stop by your pathetic frozen world for nothing, and you can be damn sure we'll get our use out of you sooner or later!"
What followed was a lengthy breakdown of what we can and can't do, how to get help if we or someone else gets injured, the punishments for failing to report injuries, what to do if we saw one, and so on. We sat through this dutifully, as we were supposed to. None of the Cadian's seemed very interested in listening to it, as they'd likely heard it hundreds of times before, but they still put on a semi-attentive expression.
"Now, we can go over how this simulation will work," Quentin snapped, getting everyone's attention. This is what we wanted to hear. Lieutenant Quentin waited for everyone to be looking at him before continuing.
"In this scenario, we will be using real weapons, fitted with minimal intensity power packs," he said, brandishing his lasgun to show everyone its red power cell. I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. A live fire exercise? This was bound to go wrong.
"This minimum intensity cell produces about as much heat as a candle flame, so it is incapable of doing more then lightly burning you. It may sting, but it cannot injure or kill, that is, unless you hit someone's eye. To this end, we will be issuing you protective lenses to wear over your eyes, used to shield troops on high-radiation worlds," he said, showing us a blue-visor in one hand.
"This visor will ensure your eyes won't burst like rotten fruit when shot with the laser, so wear them at all times, is that understood?"
"Sir, yes, sir," everyone replied. Quentin nodded.
"Next, we have equipped your armour with training gel packs. These packs are worn on the outer layer of your uniform and will burst when exposed to the frequency of the laser. The gel is filled with red dye, to simulate blood. If a lasgun hits the pack, it will explode in a similar manner to an unarmoured limb. The gel might burn a little, but it is just as unlikely to harm you as the laser will. If you experience any prolonged burning sensations…tough it up, and wash it off in the shower afterwards."
The Cadian's all laughed like this was the funniest joke they'd heard all day, but none of us managed more than an uneasy grin.
"I'll trust none of you to go around stabbing anyone with your combat knives, but if a knife is drawn, know that the gel can absorb at least a glancing swing. But, I must insist, please don't stab anyone, or else you'll be cleaning up the mess."
Again, the Cadian's laughed. Someone even booed Quentin, which he took in good grace.
"Of course, with that out of the way, we can get to the important part, the nature of this exercise," he said, and all the Cadian's leaned in intently.
"We will be doing a standard issue outpost assault scenario, to ease the Practican's in," Lieutenant Quentin said, and the Cadian's grinned and smiled to each other.
"The platoon will split into two teams, attackers and defenders. One team must take a fortified bunker, the other must defend it. The scenario will last 30 minutes, and then teams will exchange sides. Now remember, no stabbing, no shooting at eyes, and report any injury you see when you see it. Is that understood?"
"Sir, yes, sir," everyone responded, some more enthusiastically then others. Just like that, it was time to begin. I had no idea what to expect. My nerves were on edge. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I just felt that something was going to go horribly wrong. As we went to the armoury to stock up, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had to be on guard.
"Private Prassus, take this," Alexei said, handing Prassus a grenade launcher. He looked at it as if were a brand-new puppy, cradling it in his arms. Alexei then gave him a bunch of dummy 'grenades' that were just plastic cannisters filled with white powder, which would simulate the explosion.
I wasn't sure on how well Prassus would handle that, but Alexei did say he would make a fine heavy-weapons operator the moment he met him. Plus, its not like Prassus didn't have an aptitude for grenades without the launcher…
The next weapon Alexei handpicked was a longlas for Ratfinch. Again, that was hardly surprising, but the irony of the short guy named after a rat being handed a sniper rifle did seem to be lost on everyone but me.
The final piece of equipment Alexei handed out was a vox-kit, to Oleev, of all people, who seemed just as surprised as everyone else when Alexei began to strap it to her back. Alexei said it was because she had the clearest voice out of us all, but I got the sense he had another reason for giving it to her.
Then, we were each handed two dummy powder grenades each, given a bunch of red power cells for our weapons, fitted with the gel-packs over our chest, arms and legs, strapped the visor over our eyes, and were told to head out into the arena and prepare for the exercise.
We would be on the attacking team this round, which didn't really please me, but I wasn't too keen on being on other side, in all honesty.
The arena was huge, much bigger than the environment simulator, and had a greater diversity of landscapes in it. There was a section of forest and water, a small urban town, open fields, hills, rocks, roads, sand traps, even a little lake. And there, on the far side of the arena, was the bunker, a squat, slab sided building, rough and simple, with two towers on either side and a small wall surrounding it.
"Attacking is simple," Alexei stressed, readying his own weapons, "we just need to find their weak point and push it as hard as we can."
That sounded a lot simpler than it probably was, but now was not the time to be doubting him. This would be our first real test of following him into a dangerous situation. My heart was beating so hard and fast I swear that the others must've been able to hear it. I was about to ask what we were meant to do when a loud siren went off, the starting horn, and everyone leapt into action.
"Alright, advance, advance, into the hills, secure ground, just like we've trained," Alexei barked, diving over the barricades marking our starting area and into the arena. We all followed him at once. The other squads on our team surged forward, the Cadian's moving swiftest of all, guns already raised, hunting for targets, even though the bunker was at least a hundred and fifty metres away.
Charging through the tall grass on the edge of the trees, I remembered to raise my own rifle, moving from side to side where possible, instead of a straight line. Alexei was already at the base of the second hill by the time we reached him. There was a smattering of gunfire as some of the squads began the attack.
"We'll move in, and flank them from the left," Alexei said, "Prassus, I want that launcher trained on the turrets once they're in sight. Ratfinch, eye on those towers, they're bound to be manned by other sharpshooters. The rest of us, we'll take up positions and bring down whichever squad is along that wall, clear?"
"Sir, yes, sir," we replied. I was sweating, and my breath felt light in my throat. Damn stress. Alexei looked at us for a moment before continuing.
"Remember, focus your attack, one strong piercing thrust and we'll be through. Maximum aggression in the shortest period of time, overwhelm them, breach the wall, and we'll be in."
"What about the rest of the squads? We can't take the bunker alone, sir," I said. Alexei nodded.
"Don't worry, the other sergeants know what to do. We have a plan. It's a clear cut Cadian tactic."
"Won't that mean the defenders will recognise it?" Prassus asked. Alexei looked at him as if he'd just asked if they sky was up.
"Of course. We're here to train on battlefield conditions, not show our tactical mastery. Now come on, we're not going to do anything here."
With that, we pushed from the hills, guns at the ready. There were some loud thumps, grenades, Alexei told us, followed by sharp cracks, which were sniper rifle fire. As we advanced, we came to the edge of some sandy dunes, which led up to the bunkers walls.
"We have to do clear this distance quickly, and that means speed. We get to that dune, the one right there, and then take up positions, is that understood?" Alexei said, waiting for us to nod. Once he was satisfied, he brought Prassus and I to the fore.
"You two, go first. Sent, cover Prassus, he has the launcher, take up a position and keep your eyes on the walls. Cover his advance, and then shield anyone who follows as well. I'll send Clauda and Ratfinch up next. Once they're with you, advance to the next dune with Ratfinch, clear?"
"Sir, yes, sir," I swallowed. Alexei slapped me on the back.
"Good man. Prassus, are you ready?"
"Yes, sir," he grinned. Alexei smirked.
"Good. Go, go, go," he urged us. Prassus and I exchanged a glance before breaking out into a sprint. The moment we cleared our hiding spot, there was a shout from the walls, and a hail of gunfire showered us. They were messy, panicked shots, the shots of a soldier whose realised he's suddenly got enemies advancing right on top of him, but even then, they nearly clipped us more then a few times. Prassus fired off a powder grenade blindly, and I shot back without even bothering to aim. Prassus' grenade sailed over the wall and my shots hit its base, but before we could take anymore we were in the cover of the dune. The shots didn't ease up.
"Holy fuck, that was close," I breathed out. Prassus started laughing, as if he hadn't just had a dozen near misses. My arms were shaking, my gun clattering against my armour. Prassus checked his grenade launcher.
"Man, this thing is heavy," he said. I wasn't listening, focused instead on finding a way to get a look at the wall without being hit. Ratfinch and Clauda would be heading over here anytime soon.
"We need to get into position," I said, focusing on the task at hand. Prassus, still admiring his new gun, looked up at me.
"Uh, how? There's a lot of them up there and we've got nowhere to go," he said.
"Between this dune and the next, there's a little sand hump. If we get there we can hit 'em," I said. Prassus shook his head.
"They'll see us. We fire a few shots they'll see us and hit us."
"Right, if you stay here, fire at them when I do, that way, we hit them at once, they have to pick and choose a direction to at, or split their fire. Hopefully, the others will use that moment to advance, yeah?"
Prassus paused for a moment to think. There was another burst of gunfire, and the thud of a grenade going off. Sand tricked down this side of the dune.
"Yeah, alright, I get what you mean. Yeah, hit 'em from two places at once. That'll work."
"Ok, I've got to get a look at them, first," I said, rolling down the dune, near its base. Crawling up the last bit of the way, I peaked over the top and saw the defenders were looking at the place where Prassus and I had come from, where the rest of the squad was. Only a few were looking at the dune where we were. I didn't have to look closely to tell that these were Practican's. The fact we'd made it at all told me that much. Taking careful aim, I singled out the only defender on the wall with a grenade launcher, and let loose a single shot. I clipped them in the shoulder, but even that was enough to cause their gel-bag to burst in a spray of blood-red dye. My stomach flipped when I saw that, at this distance, it was impossible to tell it was fake. The only thing that gave it away was the fact the man whom I shot recoiled in disgust at the dye coating his arms and face, rather then scream in disgust, shaking himself indignantly.
At that moment, Prassus fired off a grenade, this time hitting his target. I saw a grey blur as the plastic cannister hit the wall and bounced up, exploding in a cloud of white powder, covering half the wall in the flour-like substance. Even from here, I could tell it smelt awful, whatever it was. Just like that, half the squad on the left wall was out, and, with me providing covering fire, our squad began to advance in pairs. Prassus fired another grenade, this one just missing the wall and landing in the bunkers courtyard, but by then the squad had already took cover behind the crenellations. A mounted turret on a platform behind the wall swivelled, firing off a stream of dummy rounds that burst into powder clouds along the sand dunes, showering us in clouds of sand and flakes of powder. I realised it was meant to be a heavy bolter, retrofitted to fire little cannisters of powder.
I couldn't see anything through the growing cloud of sand and powder, so I had to keep my head down and wait for the turret to stop firing. I was so blinded by the clouds I didn't even notice Clauda diving into position next to me, tossing a dummy grenade over the lip of the dune.
"Good shooting," she said, wiping sand off her visor.
"Good running," I replied.
I went to take another shot at the defenders, but just as I was climbing to the top of the dune, there was another thud, this time from right above us, and the top of the dune exploded, bathing us in sand and powder. The sand gave way beneath our feet and Clauda and I were tossed head over heels as the dune collapsed around us, taking it with us. Rolling down the dune and onto the hard-baked sand below, I winced at the sudden impact. Clauda groaned as she reached for her weapon, which had been thrown from her hands in the impact.
Caked in the foul-smelling substance, I went to wipe it off me before raising my gun.
A fatal error. Over the top of the dune came a wave of roaring Guardsman, one of the defenders Cadian squads, who had been holding back. ready for someone to attack the walls. They moved with practised efficiency, spotting Clauda and I lying there on the ground, defenceless.
Prassus yelled when he saw us there, but one of the Cadians shot him a dozen times in the chest, bathing him in gel.
Two shots to our chest took us both out of the exercise before we even realised we were under attack. The gel bags burst in our face, covering our faces in the sickly-sweet smelling dye, which stung wherever it contacted with our skin. A few droplets entered my mouth, and I felt like retching. I tried to swipe it off, but a sudden kick to stomach knocked the wind out of my lungs.
"Fucking worthless," one of the Cadian's laughed, standing over me. The others snorted, kicking Clauda down before she had a chance to rise.
What the fuck were they doing, those assholes? Gritting my teeth, I managed to grunt in their direction.
"Hey!" I protested, clenching my fist. They only laughed louder.
One of the Cadian's turned and kicked sand into my mouth, forcing me to shut up. Clauda shot them a scathing glare, causing one of the Cadian's to shoot her in the leg, bursting another gel bag. Grabbing the disgusting gel in their hands, they grabbed her by the neck and smeared it all over her face. Clauda spat in their direction, but they didn't seem to care.
"That's the bitch who thinks she can keep up with us, yeah?" One of them said.
"Yeah, that's the one," the others agreed, kicking sand into her face.
"What the hell are you guys doing?" I yelled. I saw Prassus aiming his gun at them, but one of the Cadian's threw his knife at Prassus, knocking the grenade launcher from his grip. Where the hell was our squad? Where was Alexei?
"Teaching you a lesson," their apparent leader said, shooting me again. Prassus charged down the dune towards us, but he was intercepted before getting close. A Cadian tripped him, then laughed as he tumbled the rest of the distance.
"Fucking assholes!" I shouted. The Cadian's laughed again.
"That's war. War is harsh. Come on, boys, let's get the rest of them!"
They kicked our weapons away for good measure, ripping the cells out and throwing them over the dunes. When the powder and sand cleared, they'd dispersed, leaving the three of us sitting there in seething indignation. What absolute assholes.
"Next round, we're going to fuck them up," I vowed. "I'll make sure of it."