2953-03-18 – Tales from the Service: The Disappearing Siroccos
Though the most well-covered fighting is happening here on the Seventh Fleet front, it should not be forgotten that Fifth Fleet, the Marines, and the FVDA have been consistently pushing the enemy back on the Coreward Frontier month after month, on dozens of lesser known worlds.
The fighting in these places does not win headlines, but it is also relatively low in casualties; entire worlds are often won at the cost of a few dozen killed and one or two hundred wounded, with Incarnation forces retreating off planet after the strength of the liberating force is clear. Not all these conquests are so easy, however; on some worlds, like Mathelson, our foes inexplicably decide to dig their troops in and even reinforce them, despite being outnumbered three or even four to one.
What they see in these worlds we may never know, but these battlefields are home to all manner of dangerous improvisations and tactics as a lesser force tries to hold a world against a vastly superior opponent.
Edward Issakson held his breath as the formation of aircraft thundered overhead. He doubted they were clearing the ridge by more than a hundred meters, and their speed was such that the pebbles around his boots shook in the throaty roar, and he could feel the heat off the exhaust of their air-breathing engines.
Fortunately, their speed also took them over the ridge and past the position as fast as they had approached. Slowly, Edward and his compatriots popped their helmeted heads up from the shallow entrenchments they’d dug between the rocks that crowned the little hill and looked at each other in silence. There was little reason for such a large raid to be dispatched to obliterate a single infantry company on a hilltop, but while it had been coming toward them, nobody in the unit had been sure what to think.
Lieutenant Ferrera recovered first, flicking out his backpack’s long-range comms antenna. “HQ, 519th actual. We were just overflown by large formation of enemy ground attack craft. At least ten Sirroco units headed your way right on the deck.” As soon as he’d finished speaking, he tapped a control on his vest, and a speaker in the comms system crackled to life.
A moment later, everyone on the hill could hear the answer. “Acknowledged, 519th.” A cool female voice replied. “We’ll take care of it.”
“How, exactly?” Someone asked, perhaps not realizing it was said out loud. Headquarters for a F.V.D.A. regiment wasn’t supplied with the best air-deterrence systems at the best of times, but on a backwater world like Mathelson, even the regulation amount of heavy artillery rarely materialized. How the Incarnation force opposing them had amassed such a large concentration of air assets, when they’d barely been able to consistently sortie one or two Siroccos even over the most hard-pressed sections of the front. Had they really reserved so much firepower for this long, losing territory day after wearying day, reserving a force that could have stemmed the tide at any point?
That was, of course, probably a question that a mere private in a forward infantry company would never know the answer to. Edward sighed and checked his rail carbine for the tenth time since sunrise. They weren’t anticipating any assaults today, but then, they hadn’t expected to see more aerial firepower overhead before noon than the entire corps usually saw in a week. If the enemy was going to mount a surprise assault, this was precisely how it would start.
As there was no more news coming from higher up, the Lieutenant shut off his comms speaker and crept around to the various positions, chatting in low tones with the troopers at each post. The sensor units scattered along the forward hillside weren’t picking anything up besides the usual creeping movements of local fauna, so other than keeping their heads down, most of the company slowly relaxed their guard as the day grew hotter.
After about an hour, Edward wondered why the Siroccos hadn’t come back yet. They had nothing on their hilltop which could impede the retreat even of damaged aircraft moving that fast, so there was no reason for them to take another route back to their base. Perhaps air defense around regimental headquarters had really knocked them all down? It seemed foolish to hope for such good fortune.
Lieutenant Ferrera crawled to keep his head from appearing over the boulders as he crossed over into Edward’s foxhole. “Isaakson.” He nodded.
After saluting and having his salute rapidly dismissed, Edward gestured behind their position. “What do you think happened to that air wing, Lieutenant?”
Ferrera shrugged. “Comms chatter on the regimental net is pretty laid back. If I didn’t know any better I’d say they never found headquarters to hit it.”
“How could that be?” Edward frowned. “A regimental headquarters is pretty visible from the air.”
Ferrera shook his head. “If you don’t know precisely where it is, and you’re going low and fast, you might miss it behind a hill. No, them not finding HQ isn’t too strange, Private. What bothers me, is why send them at all, if you aren’t sure of the target? Which makes me wonder if HQ was the target at all.”
“Wouldn’t there be some chatter if divisional or corps was hit?”
“Sure. Even if those Siroccos pasted a forward unit somewhere on the front, every level up and down would be shrieking advisories. Which means they didn’t hit anything, not even to blow their stores on the way back out. We’d have heard if they all ran into an AA battery and got pasted themselves. So, where did they go?”
Edward nodded slowly. “They put down somewhere. Siroccos are VTOL capable when they’re moving light, aren’t they?”
The Lieutenant grinned. “What I’m thinking. Which is why you’re coming with me in half an hour for a quick rear area patrol. I’ve already talked to Nemes and Castellan.”
Edward’s heart fell. Out walking in the open in the hottest part of the day was not what he considered a pleasant use of his time. “You think they didn’t go very far?”
“There’s an off chance.” Ferrera arched one eyebrow, a sly glint in his eyes. “And if they did put down, they’re all but unguarded, aren’t they?”