Smoke was still billowing in from over the battlefield, bringing with it the bitter, acrid stench of fused cordite and roasted flesh. I was developing a deep dislike for these ill-conceived counter-attacks on the Collective line.
Yesterday the enemy had brought up three of the new Trident D-560's to their line, and had started methodically carving up our remaining Grizzly AGAV's (Armored Ground Assault Vehicle). Their heavy armor was just too strong for us.
Now we were going nowhere. They had circled behind us, and this game of attack/counter-attack/attack was almost over.
A powerful explosion lower down the ridge kncoked me to my knees, and I hastily scrambled forward on all fours to cover one of the bleeding marines in my care as a shower of earth rained down over us. As the falling debri cleared I could see a gout of plamsa fire arcing into the sky from lower down the hill.
The Marine coughed, "Sounds like our last Grizzly got broke."
I checked him over quickly. Nothing broken, but almost certainly internal injuries. He'd be dead before the day ended. I met his questioning gaze with a steady face, then rammed the syringe into his high before he realized what I was doing. The nameless marine screamed and bolted upright.
"You needed on the line", I informed him in a steel hard voice, "where's your rifle?"
He staggered to his feet and hefted the assault rifle that he'd been lying on. You don't need a liver and spleen to shoot a gun. What a job, I thought: trying to keep your soldiers alive longer than the enemy medics can keep their's alive.
Well we were almost out of marines now. Most of the soldiers dug in on this hill were Titan Milita forces: poorly trained, badly equipped, but with a fierce determination to win thier freedom from the Collective Military Dominion, or die trying. That seemed the most likely course for today. Dying.
Still, mustn't complain. Life's not all bad in the Titan Marine Medical Corp. Yes, somethings it'd horrendous instead.
Soldiers were running up the hill towards me. I looked around, and was surprised to see that I appeared to run out of casualties. Yeah, 120 mm HE slavos tend not to leave much for me to work on. I checked my weapon: unbelievbale rate of fire, but if you can hit the side of a barn with more than three shots in a row it was a bloody miracle. Or maybe it was just me. HA! Well the Medical Corp is not know for its elite marksmanship.
The approaching soldiers cleared the smoke, and I could make out their green uniforms. Ah, good old green. The color of heros.
"The Sarge is down", the lead soldier called.
I grabbed my medikit, "Where is he?"
One of the soliders indicated the lower slopes, "Well, some of him is down there, but I saw bits over to the left and some more near the top bunker"
"Oh. Who's in charge then?"
"You", replied the soldier.
"The Tridents are advancing behind smoke cannisters", added another helpful soul.
Time for action then. "Get all our troops out of the bottom bunkers and up on the slopes, so the Tridents will be nose up as they advance on our bunkers. Issue all remaining LAWs from supply."
As the soldiers hurried off I heard one mutter, "Be a good plan if we had LAWs left."
Well the image of command was the important thing. Strength in the face of adversity. Hill 102 was going to fall today, but it wasn't going to fall easily.
I could see the Tridents now. The Collective Marines were bunched up behind its armored tail, following slowly in its wake. Every few minutes a salvo arced overhead, and a huge a concussion shook the ground, raining earth, smoke and body parts down on the defenders.
The Tridents were close now, using MG fire to tear at the defenders. The Collective troops were fanning out, preparing to charge the bunkers.
I nodded to a bannerman, and stood. "NOW IS THE TIME TO STAND WITH COURAGE, WE ARE FREE TO FIGHT AND WE ARE FREE TO DIE. THIS WORLD IS OURS", I shouted.
As the Collective Marines stormed up the slope towards ours bunkers, the Titan Colors waved aloft and a ragged cry came from our ranks, "THIS WORLD IS OURS. FREEDOM OR DEATH!"
Gunfire echoed around me, as I tried to control my weapon's angle of fire. A huge concussion knocked me from my feet, and as I lay in the mud of the trench I heard a terrible screeching woosh and an enormous explosion. Through the smoke I could see one of the Tridents aflame, its turret completely gone. Crimson clad slodiers were lying face down in the mud infront of our bunker.
The wooshing echoed again from the sky. I strained to see, but the smoke was too thick, and I could only make out a blurred greenish outline. Then through the noise of the battle I heard it. The sound that brings joy to the heart of the common soldier. The sound that is made by the only unit of the Combined Titan Forces that plays music while engaging their enemy.
"...
We live in fame or go down in flame
Nothing'll stop the Titan Air Corp!"
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"Off we go into the wild blue yonder,
Climbing high into the sun
Here they come zooming to meet our thunder
At'em boys, giv'er the gun!
Down we dive spouting our flaming from under
Off with one helluva roar!
We live in fame or go down in flame
Nothing'll stop the Titan Air Corp!"
"Minds of men fashioned a crate of thunder
Sent it high into the blue
Hands of men blasted the world asunder,
How they lived God only knew!
Souls of men dreaming of skies to conquer
Gave us wings ever to soar.
With scout before and bomber galore,
Nothing can stop the Titan Air Corp!"
"Here's a toast to the host of those who
love the vastness of the sky,
To a friend we send this message
of his brother men who fly.
We drink to those who gave their all of old
Then down we roar to score the rainbow's
pot of gold.
A toast to the host of men we boast
The Titan Air Corp!"
"Off we go into the wild sky yonder
Keep the wing level and true
If you'd live to be a gray haired wonder
Keep the nose out of the blue
Flying men, guarding our nation's borders
We'll be there followed by more
In echelon, we carry on
Nothing can stop the Titan Air Corp!!"
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