Chapter 24
Beginning of the End
Tyrlon
3rd February, 3025
Colonel Haegar
The surface to orbit guns were aimed for the heavens as he watched the sensors with a sense of fear and trepidation. In a vanguard ahead of the majority of the traitor Lady Arano's forces came the black ships, the vessels of the Raven Guard. Burning harder and longer than any ship that the Directorate could put into space. And yet, they held orbit just beyond range. Checking his files he realised that the Raven Guard had two more ships than they should have. A second Fortress and another Union. Telescopes showed they were unpainted.
"Launches detected." One of the operators said and Haegar dived back to his screen. The Overlord had dropped six ASFs into space, and the two Unions they had brought dropped a pair more each with the Achilles dropping a further two. "Goddamn, they've hurled their whole fleet for us!" The operator said as he checked over the recognition tables. Unknowing of far greater assets.
"Get our own aerospace up there!"
"We're trying but..."
"But?!"
"They're under maintenance, we've only got a pair of Shilones in any condition for launch." The operator said wincing while they watched the orbital path of the launched craft degrade as they burned against their orbit to fall towards the shipyard.
"Fucking launch them!" Haegar roared as he turned and picked up a radio. "This is Colonel Haegar. Prepare for a full combat alert. Incoming enemy forces. The Arano bitch is pushing to knock us over before trying for Coromodir. Let's show them what we're made of! Defence guns. Commence fire as soon as they enter range!"
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Squadron Leader Chu
The Marauders dropped like stones into the atmosphere as they plunged towards the shipyard. Streamers of burning atmosphere clinging to them as the orbital guns attempted to cut them down, but they weren't rated for hitting bombers, but dropships. The prayers to the machine spirit that had kept them alive until the return on his lips he weaved as augurs revealed the location of the surface to orbit guns and tracked their orientation. "Level out at three thousand metres. Get some distance."
Laser and PPC fire reached up from the defence batteries, but warned by the spirit of the Marauders it took little effort to avoid the lumbering guns before the group levelled out and began a sweeping arc to come back in over the target area. "Crow 11 to Crow Lead. Incoming Hawks."
"Ok, Crows. Javelin Down Combat Box." The Marauders slid about their formation into a traditional combat box as the Shilones speared in from the side.
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Flight Leader Hennessy.
"Look at those idiots, they're flying in a box and ignoring us!" Her voice rang out to her wingman as she brought the LRMs and lasers online sweeping in to the side of the combat box, failing to recognise the significance of the formation in favour of believing their enemy had not seen or detected them. "Firing."
Missiles screamed out and the Large laser fired as she noticed almost too late the problem. On the dorsal surface of all twelve craft the turret spun and began chattering with fire towards them and she slammed on the rudder and pulled the ailerons into a tight roll. The missiles tore into one of the craft punching holes in it from fore to aft as its bombs detonated while she watched in panicked fear as her armour was being shredded by an unexpectedly high volume of fire from the formation, each of the bombers able to cover the other.
Her wingman saw the incoming storm of fire and broke off to the left instead as they both tried to burn away from the formation discharging their aft SRMs in their wake. Twisting through the fire they came about.
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Squadron Leader Chu
One Marauder down and the attackers were coming in again. "Squadron. Wheel starboard ninety. Chin gunners. Kill them." The box spun and the Shilones attempted to break off, but it was too late for that as eleven pairs of lascannons discharged as one, seeking out the Shilones with vigorous hatred. The second one was torn apart as six Lascannons found it and tore it apart while the first managed to survive by the skin of its teeth with only two finding its hull. A condition 'corrected' when it began trying to climb and the turrets tore it apart in a storm of heavy bolter fire.
The combat box wheeled back onto course for the control centres as above the dropships all began the final descent. Turrets and those Mechs with the range all began trying to bring down the squadron of bombers as they made their final approach, spilling Hellstorm bombs as they passed over control centres for the orbital guns. The cliffs blossoming into flame as the weapons tore apart the facilities as another two of the bombers fell beneath the combined firepower, but in the end it was too late and the guns fell silent, dropships falling as rain to disgorge the troops and vehicles within. "This is the Murder of Crows. Mission accomplished."
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Tyrlon burned as our forces fell upon the defences at the Shipyards. Spiders attempted to lay down artillery fire where it would count, I had marched for ten minutes at the head of a wall of Knights, flanked by the mechwarriors and mechs sent by Markham to round out our combat detachment, including veterans who had retired from the FedSun that Otto Davion had convinced it would be beneficial to their pensions to help a friend out.
Now I stood upon a promontory overlooking the shipyard itself, laying down fire from the Plasma Decimator and Volcano-Lance as the Siegebreaker turrets blazed at any enemy units that came too close. A pillbox equipped with a pair of heavy lasers detonated as shelling from the Iberia struck it dead on. Even now Ostergaard marched where the fighting was thickest, virtually back to back with Glitch as Dekker worked the other end of the field. Leafy stood on a hillock and sent a barrage of Avenger fire into a barracks complex. Not far from me stood Kamea in her own Knight, occasionally firing her battle cannon as she observed and tried to direct the activity of battle for her own forces.
An act that, predominantly, seemed to consist of keeping her mechwarriors out of the way of the Knights. A task I was busy undertaking myself, though quick work with the paint guns had ensured that all our machines at least had clear visual identification. On the Overlord bearing her name Miranda worked with Alexander to direct the wider theatre of battle and I watched as the Directorate forces were beginning to fold.
But things were becoming cleaner, the less fanatical quickly surrendering (most quickly where the Volkite weapons were present) and the most fanatical were falling like wheat beneath the scythe as troops moved in, Valkyries delivering them to key structures or engaging in aerial duels with the enemy VTOLs. I watched the Super-Heavy Company roll over a Lance of Enemy Assault mechs, the Baneblade actually ramming into a Stalker and knocking it to the ground before blasting its head with the Demolisher Cannon. The few ASFs the enemy had possessed guarding their capital on Tyrlon were fleeing before Kameas own as I had lacked the time to replace the Marauders with a few Furies.
Twisting columns of fire rose as the Long Toms struck once more at a hardened bunker and the last resistance collapsed wholly. My Guardsmen dropped to the ground as their Valkyries tore in sweeping them with multilaser fire allowing the Guard to charge into the guttering blaze with Lasguns held ready and specialists with flamers engaged the enemy. The combat winding down as remaining people and units surrendered.
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Behemoth
It was not too obvious yet, but the churning in my gut reminded me why I wasn't out there fighting with the others. But for now I was running the CIC for the theatre of war. Relaying orders and passing the intelligence where it was needed to the people who made the call.
But the heat of battle was dying out as the last pockets of resistance were eliminated, and as I watched the tallies of battle the numbers were almost horrifying. Where the Raven Guard had not been the primary combatants the casualties were higher than I was used to, if not as high as that of the Directorate forces. The Star League era mechs were proving to be a great boon for Kamea's forces.
But even so the casualties were significant, Tyrlon was the last bastion world between our advance and Coromodir. "Warden, Sword. Remaining combat elements of Tyrlon have effected surrender, there's only a handful of pockets of resistance remaining. Sword, your forces have lost about fourteen percent of active combat forces. Warden we lost a few guardsmen and a quarter of our Marauders. We lost about six mechs from the new forces."
"And Ostergaard?" Kane asked as I heard the Volcano Lance discharge again.
"Worries me, lost almost twenty percent of his forces, and allegedly one of those was one of his own people accidentally getting between him and his chosen target." The man was almost patently insane, and had grown worse since we actually began the assault on the Directorate. And putting him in a Styrix had not done him any favours at all. "I'm worried that we may need to put him down like a mad dog."
"Not yet." Kane said and this time I saw the Preceptor of Death begin to move. "But keep an eye on the situation for now. I'll deal with it after Coromodir if it remains a problem."
"If he can control himself that long..." I said before shaking it off, "Nevermind. What's the next step?"
"The next step. Coromodir." Kane said