The Empire’s Corps: Book 01 - The Empire's Corps (63 page)

He left his other thought unspoken. If the city was descending into chaos, how long would it be before the lower classes – the ones the Council had held down for their entire lives – started to realise that there was nothing stopping them from attacking the remainder of the upper class? Leo knew that his family weren't really upper class, not by any reasonable definition of the term, but would that really matter to angry men out for a little revenge while the Civil Guard was distracted? Mandy had almost been raped and murdered once. He didn't want to see the rest of his family face the same peril.

“Come on,” he ordered, firmly. Mandy hesitated, but followed his lead. They’d spent hours planning the new University of Avalon that he intended to open one day, just chatting as they hadn’t since she’d hit puberty, and he had no intention of wasting that time. “We’ll be back to the surface soon enough.”

Another explosion, closer, underscored his words.

***

Jasmine watched as the first VTOL Raptor came in to land, after spraying rockets down into a few locations surrounding the spaceport. The Crackers had gotten far closer than any of the defenders had expected, but they hadn't broken the perimeter and the defenders – a motley combination of Marines, Marine Auxiliaries and Civil Guardsmen – had counterattacked vigorously. The Crackers had counted on their mortar fire to inflict significant damage on the spaceport, but the laser counter-battery system had detonated the shells before they could strike their targets. The entire battle seemed to have stalemated, although the intervention of the Raptors had turned the tide in favour of the defenders.

“We just got a new uplink from Sergeant Barr,” a voice said, in her ear. “He was at Armstrong Base when the shit hit the fan. He’s alive and met up with other loyalist forces and they’re moving to retake the base.”

“Understood,” Jasmine said. With the local command arrangements in disarray, she’d been breveted to Corporal and given command of a platoon that really consisted of elements of 2
^nd
and 3
^rd
Platoons jammed together. Another military organisation might have had problems fitting two units together, but the Marines drilled for such an eventuality. Besides, her oversized platoon was all that Sergeant Patterson had to send into the city. “Do you wish us to head to Armstrong Base instead?”

“Negative,” Sergeant Patterson ordered. “You are to proceed to Government House and clear the area of enemy fighters, before rescuing the Governor and Captain Stalker.”

“Understood,” Jasmine said, as the Raptor touched down. “We’re on our way.”

The pilot didn't bother to shut down the engines or still the rotor blades. He just opened the hatch and waved for the Marines to board rapidly. Jasmine had already made her arrangements; seven Marines would board one Raptor and seven would board the other, ensuring that if they lost a Raptor, help would still be on the way. So far, the Crackers had shown no sign of possessing advanced antiaircraft weapons, but it was so obvious a chink in their procurement that she would have been astonished if they hadn't tried to fill it. If they had support from within the Civil Guard – and the uniforms and weapons they’d used proved that – there was no reason why they couldn’t have got their hands on HVMs.

She pulled herself into the Raptor and waited impatiently as the pilot spun up the engines again and hurled them into the sky, linking in to the aircraft’s onboard sensor suite to look down at the city. Camelot was burning, with some areas clearly badly attacked and other areas left completely alone. Judging from the fires, attacks had been concentrated against government and military targets, with a handful of exceptions. One of them made no sense to her at all until she compared it against the street map of Camelot she’d been given and realised that the Crackers had hit the Bank of Avalon, the most hated building on the planet. If the main records had been destroyed, they’d also taken out so all the debts. She had to smile at the concept. The Council – or whatever replaced it – could no longer prove that anyone owed money.

Assuming that they got all of the records
, she reminded herself. New reports were flashing up in her helmet display as bases and units reported in, although a number of Civil Guard bases remained silent. If they’d lost their commanders, the Crackers would have managed to isolate them from the rest of the network, even if they hadn't taken the entire base. The opening moves of any battle were always confusing, but in this case confusion helped the enemy and not the defenders. Jasmine had never seen anything like it, even on Han. She just hoped that the locals were keeping their heads down and out of the line of fire.

“The emergency broadcast system has been activated,” someone informed her, when she checked. “The civilians have been ordered to stay in their homes.”

Jasmine scowled. She had no idea how effective that would be, but she wouldn't have placed money on it. For the young, the chaos and anarchy would draw them like a magnet, pulling them onto the streets as if it were a wild street party. It wouldn't be long before looters started to loot openly, while the Civil Guard was unable to stop them. The streets of Camelot would soon descend into absolute chaos. An image of Mandy popped into her mind and she found herself hoping that the girl was safe. It wouldn’t be fair, somehow, if she died after she had decided to make something of her life.

“Alert,” the pilot snapped suddenly. “We have incoming!”

***

Clinton Remus braced himself as the first Raptors from the spaceport started to head over the city and towards Government House. His team had been warned, specifically, that they were not to do anything until the Marines started to launch their aircraft, even if they saw other targets of opportunity. Reinforcing from the air was a core part of Marine combat doctrine and if they succeeded, Operation Headshot might be derailed, badly. The fighters hitting Government House were unprepared for armoured Marines joining the fun.

“All right,” he said to the other four, as they lifted their weapons. “Lock on to your targets and take aim.”

The HVM was a very simple weapon, one that could be fired and then forgotten, even when used by a complete incompetent. A handful of Civil Guard deserters had drilled Clinton and his men on the weapons until they could launch them in their sleep, warning them that they wouldn't have a second chance. Fire the weapons and then run, getting the hell out of the area before any survivors hosed their position down with machine gun fire or rockets. If the Marines survived the attack, they would be in a murderous mood. They would
know
that their attackers had wanted to kill them.

He peered through the scope at the lead Raptor. Unlike Civil Guard helicopters, it had stealth systems built in to make it harder to target, but at such close range it hardly mattered. It only took a moment to uncover the firing key and push down on it hard, launching the missile right towards its target. An instant later, the other missile was fired, arcing right towards the second Raptor. The others held their fire and waited.

“Don’t stand there,” Clinton bellowed. “Run!”

***

Jasmine braced herself as the missiles raced towards their targets, right towards
her
. “No dice,” the pilot said, grimly. “Emergency escape systems online...now!”

Something
grabbed
at her and she found herself plummeting towards the hatch and out of the aircraft, falling down towards the buildings below. A second later, she heard a thunderous explosion behind her as the missile stuck home, sending one of the Raptors up in a massive fireball. Her helmet was reporting that all seven of the Marines had been thrown out of the aircraft just before it was hit, followed rapidly by the other aircraft. Jasmine cursed under her breath as the suit automatically deployed a parachute, slowing her fall before she could hit the ground. She’d practiced HAVLO parachuting before graduating from the Slaughterhouse, but she’d never had to dive out of a crippled Raptor before. They’d been taught how to do it, yet the odds of actually surviving a direct hit were so low that they’d never had to try...

She hit the top of the building hard enough to hurt, even through the suit, but there was no time to relax. An enemy sniper had rolled over and was desperately trying to bring his weapon to bear on her. She shot him down instinctively and linked in with the other Marines. If they’d been trying it as an exercise in the Slaughterhouse, they would all have been failed, for they’d come down over a wide area. Scattered, they were vulnerable. She designated a place for them all to meet up and sprinted for the stairs. If there was an enemy force in the building, they knew that she was there...

A hail of fire greeted her two floors down, including bright sparks of light that marked the presence of at least one plasma cannon, one capable of burning a hole through her suit. God damn it, but someone on the other side was quick! They’re realised what she was and where she was going and had moved to stop her. Escape was going to be a bitch...or maybe not. She stepped over to the elevator shaft, used the enhanced servos in her armour to prise the heavy metal doors apart, and then started to climb down the shaft before she could think better of the idea. The power was out and the elevator wouldn’t be running, she hoped; the last report had warned that the Crackers held the main fusion plant and had cut off all power to the city. The climb was harder than she had expected – perversely, she found herself wondering if the fall had injured her, even if her implants insisted that she was intact – but she finally reached the bottom and started to work on the doors. By her calculations, she should be in the basement. It was easy to climb out, find the stairs and come out all weapons blazing. They’d completely lost track of her until she exploded into their rear.

She took a moment to disable their weapons, knowing that there were probably more Crackers on the upper floors wondering what had happened to their comrades on the ground, before heading out to meet up with the others. Twelve Marines greeted her; two were missing, somewhere within the chaos. Their suits weren't responding to her pings either.

“Come on,” she ordered. They’d mourn the dead later. “We have to move fast.”

Government House had been one of the most impressive buildings in Camelot, although it hadn't had quite the same grandeur as Carola Wilhelm’s mansion. Even now, it was still intact, even though a heavy bomb had detonated right outside the building, showing a sickening lack of concern for civilian casualties. Dead bodies were scattered everywhere, some even barely recognisable as human. Jasmine swallowed hard as she caught sight of a young boy, his body shattered by the blast, and then led the Marines forward. The Crackers attacking the building barely had a moment to see them coming before they opened fire and ripped into them. They never stood a chance.

Mortar shells ripped down from prepared positions, but armoured Marines moved faster than anyone could grasp, even people who had thought they’d studied the Marines. Jasmine split her force and sent two fire teams to deal with the mortar gunners, while she led the rest of her force into the building. A pair of bodies greeted her as they burst through the remains of the door, surprising her, for they had clearly been shot in the back of the head. It spelt treachery to her and she noted, absently, that they weren't wearing black armbands. Loyalist forces, then, shot down before they ever knew that they were under attack.

She keyed her communicator quickly. “Captain Stalker,” she called. “Please come in...”

“Here,” Captain Stalker said. A location glyph appeared in her helmet. “Be careful. There are quite a few dead bodies up here.”

Jasmine climbed the stairs, keeping her MAG at the ready, until they reached the first floor. There was a small pile of bodies there, including a blonde girl she barely recognised, and a barricade that had been thrown together in a hurry. Captain Stalker rose to greet them and she saw him smile, tiredly. The attackers had hit the barricade hard, but they’d clearly failed to break him.

“It's good to see you, sir,” she said, and meant it. “Is the rest of the building secure?”

“Unknown,” Captain Stalker said. “The Major needs medical treatment ASAP. The remainder of the people in this room need to be escorted to somewhere safe...and then we have to track down the people responsible for this.”

“Yes, sir,” Jasmine said. “The local area is
not
secure. I suggest preparing to hold Government House.”

Captain Stalker smiled. “Good idea,” he said. Jasmine realised with a flush of embarrassment that he would have been in contact with his Command Sergeant and probably knew the situation better than she did. “We’ll see to it at once.”

***

The fighting had raged over Armstrong Base for what felt like hours – Michael’s timepiece swore that it had only been forty minutes, but it had to be lying – before they could reasonably declare the base secure. The scratch group of soldiers, trainees and Civil Guardsmen – and a pair of Marine training officers – had found other loyalists and hunted down the traitors savagely. Only a couple had survived to be taken prisoner and neither of them seemed to be particularly important.

Michael saluted Jared Barr as he entered the makeshift command post. He’d passed command to the Marine as soon as they had met up with his group because nothing in his training had prepared him to command a whole base. Barr hadn't even mocked him for calling him ‘Sir,’ he’d just nodded and assumed command. Besides, Michael wanted a piece of the bastards who had attacked the base and turned the Civil Guard against itself and he couldn't do that if he was stuck in the rear.

“We have seventeen AFVs and two tanks ready for deployment,” he reported. Most of Armstrong Base had been badly damaged and would require weeks of repair work before the base was usable again, although the Crackers hadn't managed to completely destroy the base. “We can move on your command.”

“Good,” Barr growled. He didn't look happy, but somehow Michael was no longer scared of him. The Sergeant had prepared them well for combat, even though they had loathed him at the time. “Then mount up. We’ve got work to do.”