Ravens of Eternity

80 Massacre at Dendrus, Pt The colonel and two hundred of her Hussars dashed over to the bunker with maximum thrust. They were the first of four waves assaulting the Federation bunker, which was on its very last legs.

All they needed to do was deliver the killing blow and convert the entire thing into a tomb.

“What’s their status? I want a report of their energy readings.” asked the colonel.

One of the unit’s recon officers came on her comms display. His face was filled with concern.

“Main power appears to have been knocked out, but our sensors detect low-level energy currents throughout. It’s probable that their backup generators kicked in. Readings are too low to see what they’re up to, however.”

“Is power going to their turrets?”

“Can’t tell, but our other scans show no activity from the pillboxes. Visuals confirm only half of them are damaged beyond operational capacity.”

The colonel grimaced. If those pillboxes were still active, there was little chance they would reach the enemy’s airlock, much less break through it.

“I’m gonna need a full count.”

.....

The recon officer initiated a full scan of the hill, or more specifically, the defensive batteries that circled it. Each of the reinforced pillboxes were highlighted on his screen in varying shades, going from green to red.

“Six appear lightly damaged, three partially breached, another three blown wide open, and two flattened.”

“Understood. Recon, stand by in overwatch. My unit, demo check.”

Her unit immediately performed an armaments check and automatically sent her data on the explosives in their loadouts. Among all of them, there was enough to create 50 standard satchel charges. Another 50 had shoulder-mounted rocket pods.

The colonel hoped it was enough to tear through the enemy’s inner airlock. The Federation bunker had soaked up a full-on kinetic bombardment and still stood. For the most part, anyway. Although they had enough explosives to do so, the colonel wanted to polish off the pillboxes as well, just in case the base got power back.

Better to be safe than sorry.

The unit slowed as they approached the bunker, wary of the pillbox guns’ range. They saw the wreckage of multitudes of mecha all over the area, all of whom had been shredded to slag.

The killing field began at almost exactly two thousand meters from the closest pillbox, but appeared to be densest halfway in – at the one thousand meter mark.

The colonel ordered three of her men to scout out the perimeter, and attempt to make their way towards the pillbox. They did so without hesitation, but were still fearful of those guns.

The ruined mecha on the battlefield told them everything they needed to know about their lethality.

The three of them glided towards the bunker in semi-erratic movements. They were relatively far apart from each other, and were operating at a lower power signature from normal. Although they were prepared to get fired on, and could easily evade, they were still stressed to hell.

They passed the 2000 meter mark without any problems. The colonel watched over her troops on one MFD, while she kept an eye on the pillboxes on another.
Although they all expected the pillboxes to quickly shower the three with bullets, not a single one of them moved.

The guns sat limply and unmoving through the open blast shields.

Something still didn’t feel right, so she had her three move even closer towards the bunker. And yet, even as they hit the midway point, nothing moved at all. The tension that the three had held eased greatly, and the colonel herself sighed in relief.

She recalled them, but then sent another ten out to check, just in case. She had them go at full signal strength. And yet the results were the same. They easily passed the 2000 and 1000 meter marks without a peep from the guns.

With recon’s confirmation that there was zero power detected in any of them, she had her unit prep for a breaching assault.

“I want those explosives set at triple strength,” she ordered. “We’re gonna bust through their front door with a great big bang and snuff out every living thing in there. And I want the pillboxes on the entire southern half blown. Clear?”

“Oorah!” her unit howled.

As they consolidated their explosives and combined them into triple-density satchel charges, the second wave came up and joined them. Both units then reformed into four squadrons of fifty, and took to the field in loose formation.

The troops eyed the wrecked mecha around them warily, but their nerves eased up the closer they neared the bunker. Not a single one of the guns had moved, but they were still on high alert.



They were right in the heart of enemy territory and couldn’t let their guard down. Not even for a second.

Though they were careful going in, they quickly sped up once they hit the halfway point. The colonel was heated about breaking the bunker, and issued a double-time to reach the front.

The four squadrons quickly split off slightly, with two headed towards the airlock, while the other two swung out to the left and right flank.

After a few moments, they reached the 500 meter mark, and the colonel ordered the demo wing to launch their attack run. They quickly split off from the main squadron and charged directly towards the bunker.

The ones with rocket pods veered to the front line and lined up their shots. Their targeting computers beeped as they lined up their reticles to the optimal arc.

But before they could pull the triggers, the guns in the pillboxes suddenly came to life. Their energy readouts shot through the roof as their barrels spun up.

“Evasive maneuvers!” yelled the colonel.

Every mecha on the field quickly broke off and entered their maneuvers, but it was of little use. Four of the emplacements concentrated on the closest Hussars, and laid down streams of fire downrange.

Their barrels made terrifying ROARS as thousands of rounds flew out of their barrels at blinding speed.

They tore into the demo mecha, and ripped gaping holes into their chassis. Their armor was all but useless to the B-ranked Dragonfire Chainguns. And on top of that, their explosive cores detonated right after penetrating armor, which blasted the mecha into scrap.

Those pilots stood little chance as the guns swept across their position. Waves of bullets smashed into them, and annihilated the pilots within. Dozens fell in those first few seconds, and they barely knew what hit them.

“Fall back!” the colonel ordered quickly.

She cursed herself between clenched teeth for being too careless, too eager, too blinded by her hatred. She wanted those Feds dead so badly that she gave them the perfect opportunity for an ambush, and they capitalized on it with ease.

Her assault had been trashed, and more of her soldiers died uselessly.

Though they were now rapidly escaping away, Hussar mecha fell one after the other under the guns’ devastating barrage. They spewed so many bullets that it was nearly impossible not to get hit. Evasive maneuvers were pointless.

One mecha’s leg had been shredded to pieces by relentless chaingun fire. And without the bottom thruster to keep it aloft, it fell and tumbled along the ground in an inglorious heap.

Armored hands dug into the soil in an attempt to scramble away, but there was no use. Without the benefit of high-speed maneuverability, it was little more than an inanimate hunk of metal. One of the guns poured thousands of rounds into it for a moment, until it glowed red-hot from all of the internal explosions.

It only began to cool down after the gun switched to another target. Its orange glow dulled with each passing moment.

The pillboxes continued to fire on the Hussars even as they ran with abandon. Every mecha on the field weaved as erratically as they could as they scrambled their way out of the guns’ killzone. All sense of order and decorum had been lost – it was now every man for himself as they jetted to safety.

Another of the Hussars decided to hide behind a large pile of scrap, and used it to stay in cover. It was a great idea, until a number of the guns fired at his position all at once. The explosive ammunition tore the makeshift barrier to pieces, got through the defenses, and ripped into the mecha itself only moments later.

One of the bullets made its way into the core, and disintegrated the pilot into ash. The mecha fell over, and quickly added itself to the rest of the heap of broken and useless metal.

Inside the pillboxes on the shooting floor were a handful of automated Dragonfire Chainguns mounted on reinforced gimbals. Although the shutters had protected most of them from the artillery barrage, not all of them made it through. A good many had been smashed to pieces after the armor buckled and failed.

Luckily, there were still plenty to keep them defended. At least, for as long as they had ammunition.

In the floor beneath the shooting floor were a number of gunners seated in their armored stations. In front of each one was a terminal with a handful of MFDs, and control sticks, through which they controlled their guns.

Sweat gathered on their brows as they trashed as many Hussar mecha as they could. Every single one they downed gave them all a glimmer of hope of making it out of there alive. Every second they bought, every kill they made, only brought their reinforcements closer.

Inside one of the pillboxes that flanked the outer airlock doors was the perimeter commander. He along with the rest of his unit had been cut off from the main bunker, both communications and power combined.

Luckily, each of the pillboxes had their own separate power supply, and the pillboxes as a whole had their own unique comm relay. This gave them incredible survivability, even in the aftermath of a devastating barrage.

On the commander’s terminal was every gunner in every pillbox, each of whom controlled one of the large remote-controlled chainguns. He kept them all coordinated from his station.

“Great job, PB-Four and PB-Six!” he exclaimed. “Slagged that squadron like they were made of soft iron. Keep it up!”

“Commander,” said one of the gunners. “PB-Nine, Gun Alpha entering reload and cooldown phase in twenty.”

“Roger, PB-Nine,” the commander replied. “PB-Ten, provide cover, two minutes.”

“Commander,” said another gunner, “all enemy targets out of range.”

“Same here.”

“And here.”

One by one, the gunners confirmed that the enemy had slipped to safety to everyone’s great relief. When everything quieted down, they all cheered their small victory, and the commander wiped the sweat from his brow.

His reports showed that they had taken down 157 enemy mecha. Their ambush absolutely trounced their attack force! He knew however that they weren’t going to get another chance like that again.

The next time the Hussars would be back on the field, and they needed to be ready for it.

“Great job, everyone! But we haven’t won yet. These Hussar dogs are gonna be back, and they’re gonna bring their own brand of hell with ’em.”