Hossin: Loyalty Until Death (part two)

[Firefly]

The continuation of part one, which received too many comments to count. Thanks for your support.
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Major Baird thumbed his command uplink tool on. An overhead satellite polled all of the transceiver emitters on Hossin, and then color-coded each emitter. Most of Hossin was blue- meaning the New Conglomerate had the continent to itself�

� with the exception of Zotz. That base glowed a beautiful, joy-inspiring red on the map.

�Republic be praised, they�ve done it!� the major whooped. The remainder of the displaced Terran Republic Army joined him, some of them cheering, others chattering excitedly, some pressing for a look at his uplink, others drawing their own uplinks out to look at them. Major Baird hoisted his Cycler rifle into the air and pointed to Zotz. �Let�s go home, troopers!�

Falling into a routine born of years of rehearsing, the soldiers assembled and formed small squads, then raced on foot toward the Terran Republic facility. Many kept their weapons slung on their backs, while others of a more cautious nature carried their weapons in patrol-rest position. There was no sense in forgetting soldier training and dying within sight of a base.

Major Baird waited until he was safely inside the base�s communications radius. He switched his comlink to Guard Command and keyed the mike.

�Class Six to Zotz X-ray, over.�

Trooper Abnett came through clear as a bell, his voice preceded by an electronic beep that signaled the radio net carrying active encryption. �Six this is X-ray, go ahead over.�

�Roger, can you get me a long-distance continental channel? I want to broadcast to every secure Terran radio on Hossin.�

�Done and done, break� channel is one-up, how copy, over?�

Major Baird keyed the mike. �Roger out.� He then switched his comlink�s channel knob up one click. There was a burst of static as some outfit radio operator tried transmitting without enough power to reach far� most likely the operator was calling from behind a rock out in the field, pinned down by enemy weapons fire.

�All stations this net, all stations this net,� Baird began, giving time for the airwaves to clear. He paused and inhaled. �Be advised that Zotz Base is now under Terran ownership. All units are strongly urged to make their way to Zotz for a static defense. The NewCons will want the base back, and you know damn well you could use the walls. I say again, the Terran Republic has secured Zotz. We are awaiting reinforcements now. Class Six out.�

Baird looked at the members of his squad. Two of his members were from the Terran Republic�s Special Forces, but Baird couldn�t make out the battalion logo under the mud and dirt. Yet another was a forward observer scout from the Terran Republic Marine Corps. One of the Black Widows, a sergeant named Diaz, had also joined him. Rounding out the squad was a rough, bald infantry grunt from the Crimson Guard- the Guard was a company of fiercely-patriotic nationalists who, like the Black Widows, were an irregular unit. Meaning they were not organic to the Army, the Marines, or any other official military unit.

Supposedly, the Crimson Guard had led the spearhead of the counter-strike when the Day of Bloodshed occurred. When the New Conglomerate locked and coded a warpgate, sealing itself on a small island to build its home base, they had struck against the loyalists garrisoned there. The Crimson Guard led the doomed counterstrike from within the New Conglomerate home base, at first taking down enemies while they moved to a series of towers in the center of the island. The New Conglomerate had pounded the tower for six hours with tank fire and artillery before sending in a full battalion of heavy infantry. The NewCon traitors blasted the tower with megaphones the entire time, pleading for the Guard to surrender.

The Guard lost half of its numbers that day. No other outfit or military unit had that dubious distinction- as a result, the Crimson soldiers had earned the right to call themselves the toughest bastards in the Republic. It was through the efforts of an NC double agent that the remaining Guardsmen escaped the tower. The agent commandeered a Galaxy dropship and the Terran soldiers crowded aboard, some of the men dangling out of the doors and cargo bay. There were so many that the pilot had needed to make a second trip, and the startled NewCons had opened fire on two other Galaxies they thought were in league with the agent.

Baird eyed the Guardsman appreciatively. Everyone knew the Guard would finish the fight or be slaughtered trying. �How you holding up, trooper?� He immediately felt dumb for asking. Guardsmen were a rough lot, and he suspected part of their training was learning to mask exhaustion, fear, and weakness.

The trooper grunted. �Swell. Sir.�

Baird grinned, trying to elicit a smile from the soldier. �I�m Major Baird. You got a name?�

�Tank,� he replied simply. He slung his mini-chaingun and picked up the pace a little. For a mammoth of a man wearing reinforced armor and carrying a Cycler rifle in addition to his chaingun, the Guardsman was doing remarkably well.

�How fitting a name,� Baird said quietly. �Good to know you, Tank.�

* * *

Far to the northwest on a high mountain, the soil of Hossin was being pounded by the enormous shells of New Conglomerate Vanguard battle tanks. That same soil was littered with bullet casings and body parts, and soaked in the blood of dying or dead loyalists.

Colonel Vinzent, the commandant of the Hossin Jungle Warfare Training Center before it was captured by the traitorous New Conglomerate soldiers, was crouched behind an enormous outcropping of rocks that had, so far, deflected and absorbed many NC shells. He�d set up his field command post there- not more than fifty meters to the south was the line of skirmish- fifty yards and then down a sheer drop-off.

His riflemen had so far held that ridgeline, using the upper hand advantage of higher terrain. Despite being hammered by tank fire, the riflemen had killed and died, fought and bled. Medics and engineers rushed forward to drag wounded men back or to repair body armor with nano-repair kits. It was only a matter of time, though, before the secessionist traitors called in Reaver gunships and Liberator bombers. When they came, the remnants of the Republic forces would be blown off Hossin.

One of Vinzent�s adjutants looked up excitedly from a radio set and called, �Colonel Vinzent, sir, get on the Guard Command channel!�

Vinzent tapped on his wrist pad, where the mini-console was thoughtfully imbedded in the hard-shell armor piece. With a gloved hand, he fingered one of the preset buttons. His backpack-mounted radio immediately sparked to life, raising the hair on the back of his neck. Major Baird�s excited broadcast cut through the noise of battle. The message finished, and then cycled back via a recording loop code.

A broad smile creased the Terran Army colonel�s face for the first time in many months. Vinzent switched his radio back to the local broadcast channel. �This is Colonel Vinzent, all Terran units rally to me! Prepare to fall back to the ships!�