Aterran-Maxima
An Auraxian's Collection
KingslayerIn the opening days of the war it was recognized that battle lines were established not only by the Warpgates and the safe harbor they offered between the continents, but also major economical and military installations along the front. The Terran Republic, while having been recently changed from their role as peacekeepers to a fully active military element, had the most experience with how to conduct themselves on the field. It would be no surprise to anyone that when recon elements of the 17th Scout Division reported a significant increase of New Conglomerate security on The Crown alongside the confirmed sighting of the personal Honor Guard of an extremely high ranking member, that an operation was put together.
Within twenty-four hours Operation Kingslayer was planned out, and within the following forty-eight resources were allocated for a full assault. From the north at 0800 ACT (Auraxis Central Time) a combined assault element moved down from Ceres Hydroponics, heavy armor elements of the 4th Armored Division had allocated over Sixty Prowlers to the engagement to begin shelling the installation and the surrounding plateau. Airborne units had been outsourced to the 6th Air Wing, alongside a full company of drop-troops known as The Shrouds, who would focus on the topside structures and the tower itself to search for the target as well as disable communications equipment. The largest element, would be the full strength of the 13th Heavy Infantry, who would split by company to both ascend to the topside compound as well as breach and secure the subterranean elements. Among those was the infamous 2/14 Infantry Assault Company Delta, known simply as The Blades of Garm.
It was at 0814 that the first fires of the engagement were exchanged. A forward element of the column of Prowlers had sighted enemy light armor along the lower ridge of The Crown and had swiftly engaged. Four 70mm shells had cored out the outlying harasser in a staggering 2 seconds of concussive force. The remaining harasser turned tail and ran before the vanguard element could adjust, fleaing west as quickly as its driver could throttle the engine. We of course didn't see it, but the gunners aboard our Sunderer had gladly hollered it to us. They quickly had their hands full, because within the next minute shells and un-guided munitions started to fall among the column from the peak. The main elements of our armor broke off into squadrons and spread along pre-planned areas near the main road before entrenching and throwing out retaliatory fire. 120mm shells covered us in waves reminiscent of a drum roll as our transport moved further up the rise.
The next minutes were agonizing from inside our metal can as we approached our dismount point, and more times than I liked to admit that we heard the feedback of an explosion come through our comms as a transport felt the receiving end of enemy fire. My watch hit 0824 as we came to an abrupt halt. Everyone already knew what to do as the back hatch automatically popped outward and up. It didn't stop me from reiterating the plan as a wave of sound buffeted us against the inner hull.
"Move it!" I screamed out, slamming the squad communication, "Make way to the incline, put it between you and the enemy!" The first of the squad had already cleared the rear ramp and were quickly sprinting to hit the incline as the first rays of sunlight illuminated me. Nearly blinded because of the glimmer of an assault shield as I basically jumped the four steps down and hit the sand for what felt like the first time in ages. Rounding the east bound corner as fast as possible, my weapon slides from being slung to in hands, though it goes nearly slack as I take in the sight before me.
Here, on the sands of a not so foreign world, was a glimpse of wars from centuries long past. Far above, the explosions of tank rounds and heavy ordinance buffer the tower and the ridgelines. The resulting show of high explosions blossoms in the morning light as the fires play revolving havoc on the slopes below. Rays of light beam from behind onto the backs of valiant soldiers sprinting up the rise to reach objectives in tandem. Red, black, gray, and gold shine in a myriad array of colors, as if a red wave was attempting to swallow the dried sandstone from below. NCO's and Officers below orders as fire rains around, several figures drop as they find themselves drawn short by unlucky shots. I remembered my place as a stray round found the sand at my feet, and continued to charge forward with my squad.
"Blades!" a voice calls out above all sounds, and my eyes found the Captain, perched with the command squad straight ahead, braced against the rise. "Move up, and breach that entrance!" The objective in order is a ten by eight foot blast door.
"1-1, taking the breach, 30 Seconds!" calls out a voice over comm, and my eyes instantly tracked to a squad ahead of all the rest, Sergeant's Callon's squad. It'll take them ten seconds to reach the door, six more to prep and plant their charges, and another to detonate and rush the staircase that laid beyond. My own squad, 1-3, would be straight beyond him, seeing as there was no visual of 1-2, and we all understood why. No time in the moment to mourn, so we pushed our thoughts to spite the enemy, and avenge the fallen. By the time I had fully regrouped with the squad and we got into position to advance after 1-1, they had already placed the charges on the door. "Brace!" was given as we all curled in on ourselves.
With a crack-like snapping bone the door blew inwards, smashing against the corridor walls quickly followed by the six shields bearing heavy assaults of 1-1. The rest of the twelve man team followed in behind them, guns raised over the shoulders of their teammates hurling lead down the corridor. We followed in pursuit, leaving a gap between the group, which proved helpful enough for when the corridor transformed into a straight staircase, and 1-1's grenadier was able to step backward in order to deploy the squad's designated 'heavy ordinance'. The grenadier in question, a lance corporal by the name of Jakkis, lifted the M-6A 'Thumper' RGL and fired four high explosive grenades directly into the area beyond the end of the staircase.
The resounding detonations buffered us in that hallway even with 1-1 in front of us, and more than a few plinks of shrapnel bounced off the composite shields of the heavy assaults. To add to the sudden lethal barrage Sergeant Callon threw another grenade into the room, this one was a flash however, and as the blinding light went off the first man of 1-1 stepped the top of the stairs. That's when the real screaming started, as the somewhat recovering New Conglomerate troopers received the abrupt image of multiple shield bearing Terran's, with a lot of spite to give. Equipped with semi-automatic shotguns like the Haymaker and Havoc or close range carbines like the Trac-5 and Lynx, the breachers of 1-1 left no survivors of the squad and a half of troopers that had been left to defend the stairway.
By the time 1-3 had ascended the staircase 1-1 was consolidating to push forward past the collection of perforated and mulched bodies of the defenders. It would have been a waste to even death check any of them considering the farthest guy had been blown further down the hallway with his helmet caved in by a 6-gauge slug. The hallway up ahead had been reported to transform into a series of connected chambers, which we were to clear abreast with quickness. When we pushed further, pulling up to the right of 1-1 we found ourselves in a winding corridor large enough to drive an MBT through. The structure of the base had remained the same, but deployable cover had been staggered throughout the place and a shit load of enemies.
"Engage!" was all that came over the comm as 1-1 and my squad put together a venerable wall of composite metal. Just in time too, considering that the defenders had placed two separate MANA Anti-infantry turrets in the middle of the room. The rotary weapons let loose a blur of projectiles with an intense whirl. We had mere moments before someone would have grown a brain to throw in some ordinance, but thankfully reinforcements were at our backs. 2-1 and 2-2 flowed into the room behind us, with their grenadiers at the front and ready to fire. Between them was someone who stole my eyes for a second however, and I let loose a grin at the implication of violence.
Between the grenadiers was Sergeant Korr, armed in possibly the deadliest infantry based armor on Auraxis. Standing at a massive seven and a half feet, armored in vehicle grade material, and assisted by synthetic musculature the sergeant stormed forward into the room, weapons raised. A pair of Onslaughts were paired to the Max suit's arms, and with a sudden burst of fire sheared a group of defenders attempting to retaliate on the shield wall. It was followed by a salvo of grenades aimed toward the two turrets, and with a satisfying explosion the emplacements disappeared in a cloud of fire and smoke. The remaining enemy combatants quickly withered and died under the resurgent fire from the four squads.
Passing through the now bullet ridden cover of the fallen, we swiftly spread around the room at the variety of entry points that branched off. "0-1 0-1, 1-1 how copy, over?" Callon spoke clearly into the comm bead, awaiting the response from command. A break of static answered him, before we heard the voice of Captain Ferddat.
"Loud and Clear 1-1, how me, over?"
"Loud & Clear, we've reached the first junction, permission to S&C, over?"
"Permission granted, find the Thread, over."
"Roger 0-1, Out." Callon dropped his hand from the side of his helmet, before gesturing a rapid break of hand signals. 2-1 and 2-2 spread to the two side corridors, filling in two abreast at a jog. I turned, gesturing out to my own squad in mimicry of 1-1, and both squads pushed forward. We were comforted by the heavy tread of a Max suit, as Korr followed us further into the belly of the beast. The following minutes were wreathed in the brutal violence only a tunnel fight can give, close quarters of such regard that it left us looking as if we had spent 5 years on the line. We suffered light casualties, but none of the fallen had died well. 1-1 was down an assault man from a series of hidden anti infantry mines lined against a corner wall, and one of their engineer's had been on the receiving end of a SAS-R, her helmet shattered by the force of the projectile.
Our one casualty so far had been Yernold, a Lance Corporal, age twenty-four. Squad role was assault man, and the way he died was gruesome, if not noble. He had been at the front when someone on the other side finally grew that brain I mentioned earlier. He had been the first to see the grenade fly out from behind their lines. Having played ball as a pastime in another life, he had judged the arc just right to see it heading somewhere amongst us, which in the close quarters would have gutted the squad. He dropped his rifle into its shield holster in a second, snapping his right arm up open handed to catch it just like a ball. Probably planned to smack it back, but it turns out luck wasn't on his side that day. The adhesive of the sticky grenade gripped his glove like glue. "Get back!" came the scream, and threw my peripheral I saw a good soldier surge forward, hand held out as if pushing towards the enemy. The next second his shield slipped to the left, facing us, and then he was gone, ruptured by the combustion energies and fragmentation of the explosive.
The feedback of the explosive sucked the air out of the corridor, and practically deafened us. My hearing returned only to find screams of rage, as our combined squads pushed forward to avenge the sacrifice of our fallen comrade. The remaining foes were slaughtered in a blitz of force as we rushed their positions. We spent a minute after, gathering breath before continuing and reporting in. Chatter filled the Company banded comm as squad by squad we searched through the facility, but taking recollection of the plans we collectively knew that the best area for the target to be in was directly ahead of us. We radioed in one last time before advancing, and braced for the worst.
Over the course of the war, The Blades have seen some of the toughest fights known to the Republic, but I can easily say that the culmination of Operation Kingslayer was the hardest squad element battle I have ever been in. I never wanted to see the inside of that hell hole again, and I mean it. Two squads and a Max unit rushed into that room. Six of us staggered out of there forty-five minutes later after mission completion, a fist full of dog-tags in one's hand, and the remains of a desecrated corpse in the other five's. I had marked my timer right then 0901. We captured that room before it hit 06. Five minutes of the hardest thing I've done in my career.
We breached the room six at a time and spread out into the sparsely unfortified room, taking what cover was possible behind databanks and low set partisan walls. We were under fire instantly, and it was at this half glimpse of the room that I saw the face of our target. He was clad in battle gear, and a layer of what looked to be hard light armor. The only designator I made out was the thick band of golden colored material engraved along his shoulders and the top of his helmet. I was too worried about getting into cover to care much more than that, but got a very good look at his bodyguards. A half squad of higher ranking troopers, each with an abundance of weaponry. Six men in total, three assault men, a medic and engineer in support, were rounded with a Max Unit of their own. The instinctive warning left my mouth alongside two other members of the squad. Then I was in cover.
What I didn't know was we were outnumbered three to one, and it showed instantly when I was nearly blind sided by a burst of rifle fire. Shield flickered into life in slow motion but I heard the scream of "Grenade!" cry out along our positions, and dove down. Three men of 1-1 had died in the blast I was told later, but they had nailed four enemies on the entrance to the room right before. I rose in my position and returned fire with short bursts from my Watchman, quickly taking down two troops in a crossfire. Korr's overwhelming firepower was quickly tearing apart cover in multiple places, leading to several opponents to be ripped apart by either his or supporting fire from shield bearers. Within the same moment we received the enemies advantages as well, that left several members of both squads dead or injured beyond help.
Three of the Honor Guard rushed forward, the two assault men letting loose on burst with their Jackhammers. Within seconds I watched four Terran's die to their fierce weapons, but they weren't focused on the looming form of Korr, even as they moved towards each other. I didn't notice it until it was too late, as he gunned down the two assault men with the Onslaughts revealing the form of the running engineer. He pushed on suicidally, just barely pushing through the cross fire, and then he jumped, outstretching his hand towards the Max. Held in a white knuckled grip was a massive anti-vehicle charge, angled directly to strike head first into the chassis. It never made it there, as at the apex of the leap the charge was struck with a round, and detonated. The ensuing explosion released a thunderclap that left my ears bleeding and momentarily blinded, but the damage it had done was incredible.
The engineer was gone, I couldn't even see the body, and the floor beneath his position had a furrow rent into the metal over three feet long and double it wide. It took a second to find Korr, and when I did there was instant regret. He had been bodily thrown to the rear of the room, body spread out, but even from there, I could see that from his torso up, a massive v of metal and flesh was completely missing, the remains held together by the outer side platings of the suit. The sounds of a pair of Mattocks and ensuring scream drew me back into the fight. I screamed aloud, "BRING IT DOWN!", leaving my throat burning. I got a response in the repeated displacement of air in the form of four grenades from my grenadier, before he disappeared into cover, the retaliation had taken his arm however.
Enough had been enough, so I raised my Watchman and aimed for what was left of the Honor Guard. With a full burst of the weapon I slathered the cover and medic in lead. The damage and lack of a personal medic left the target exposed, and Jaccous, my squad's second medic, rose out of cover with a SOAS. He leaned into the rifle, and took a second despite the fire coming at him. As I fire suppression to assist cover him I saw men die, assault men's shields being overwhelmed by waves of fire, leaving them exposed in the open. A limb or two slightly out of cover being ripped off in a spray of projectiles. Jaccous in these definitive moments of death, let loose three well placed shoots that jerked the target's head back in a spray of blood. Jaccous died instantly after as a sidearm roared, and the defenders rushed our positions in a near overwhelming rage.
The last minute was a brutal melee of fist and pistols, buttstocks and blades. I shredded a man's throat before gut checking another, my shields collapsed and in a flurry of thrust and bloodlust it was suddenly silent. We staggered about, nearly fighting each other as we calmed down, before reality reasserted itself, and we got the sense to raise our weapons and secure the room. I personally grabbed Korr's and Jaccous's dog tags, turning to see Corporal Grikken, now the acting squad leader for 1-1, grabbing the target's body, before beating the shit out of it. One of his own squad made to stop him, before he grimaced, and held it up further for Grikken to vent his rage. We grabbed counts of the dead, before we radioed in. 3-3 and 0-1 personally made their way up into the room to find a dead, beaten target, and six dead tired, scarred, and bloodied men. The wrap up of the operation had already begun above, and it was up to the rest of the company to clear the below levels of a rear-guard force.
We thankfully got to rest, in official reports because of our bravery and determination, but in honesty it was because the shock had started to wear off ten minutes later, and we were all shaking and sobbing wrecks. We were all awarded medals, as well as a round of promotions, but it still didn't cover in my opinion.
Excerpt of a series of Interviews, featuring Gunnery Sergeant D. , 2nd Division, 14th Regiment, Terran Republic Infantry Assault Company (TRIAS) Delta, The Blades of Garm.
