Ravens of Eternity

78 Massacre at Dendrus, Pt A few kilometers away on a ridge overlooking the city, a handful of Hussar officers watched as the horrifying battle took place before them. Though most of them wore faces of defeat and despair, only one was stoic throughout.

It seemed as though her face was carved out of stone – her expression was unblinking and unyielding despite the devastation her troops suffered. And although her eyes were lit by flame, her stare was cold and hard.

“Report,” she said, her voice frigid.

One of her officers immediately came up beside her with a datapad out. It was filled with all manner of battle reports, with one side scrolling blindly as new and updated intel rushed in.

“Colonel,” he began, “the 201st Hussar Regiment’s casualty report is still being compiled and incomplete. Thus far however, sensors have detected over four thousand casualties, three thousand, four hundred and ninety-four confirmed deceased.”

“And the Feds?”

“Active combatants confirmed neutralized. More data incoming... projected ninety percent field losses on both sides. Enemy reserves unknown.”

A groan came from one of the officers in the back, followed by a long, uncomfortable silence. After a moment, the colonel let out a long sigh before she pulled out a small monoscope and peered through it.

She issued her orders as she focused on the Federation bunker on the other side of the ruined city.

.....

“Issue a fallback order. Send survivors to triage and repairs then have any fit for duty to rejoin the regiment. Bring in our rear and call in the reserve. I want everyone prepped for bunker busting by the end of the cycle.”

“Yes, colonel.”

The officer beside her nodded in acknowledgement, then stepped back to issue her orders.

“All due respect, colonel,” interjected one of her other officers. “The reserve is still en-route. It’ll take longer than a few hours for them to arrive... How’re we gonna bust that monstrosity with little over a thousand Hussars?”

She turned towards her officers, anger deep within her gaze. Behind her was the devastated planet, its land a brown, barren wasteland. Pockets of green survived, but only just.

“How long since the Feds first landed on Hegemony soil?” she asked impetuously.

Her voice was sharp, perhaps even volatile. Due to that, no-one dared say a word in response. Even though they all knew it. After a prolonged silence, she answered herself.

“Thirty-three years. They’ve been ‘colonizing’ our frontiers for Thirty. Three. Years. On this planet alone, they’ve been here what? Eight, nine years? We’ve lost billions of people and trillions of ducat to these rats. We’ve asked, pleaded, bribed, sued, and fought for them to leave us in peace. And yet here they still are!”

The colonel grit her teeth as white-hot hatred flashed through her. She had seen firsthand all of the worlds that the Federation had torn apart carelessly, all in pursuit of profit. Entire peoples were wiped out or enslaved under the banner of Federal colonialism, and she had enough of it.

“Well, no more. We’re gonna sniff out every single Federation rat, and crush them under the Hegemony’s heel. We’ll get every single one of them, no matter the cost. Even if they burrow deep into the planet’s core and hide behind a thousand meters of omnitronium.”
Without looking, she pointed at the bunker behind her with a shaky, hostile finger.

“We’re gonna flatten that hill, grind those Feds to dust, and nourish Dendrus with their blood!”

~

Hours later, nearly fifteen hundred Hussar mecha arranged themselves into formation away from the prying eyes of the Federation bunker. They were also protected by numerous, powerful signal dampeners, which kept anyone from pinpointing their location. At least, for as long as they were on standby.

Exactly four hundred mecha had dug themselves into the ragged ground and locked their joints into braced postures. On their backs were B-ranked shock-mounted 300mm Megabore Howitzers. These large-bore cannons flung sabot rods of tungsten carbide into the atmosphere, which allowed them to bombard their targets with obscene force.

The remainder of the regiment stood in defensive formations around the squadron of artillery, and watched out for anything and everything.

The colonel’s beautiful but stern visage appeared on all their comms displays. She, along with all of the other officers were in their mecha, and stood alongside the rest of the regiment.

The moment they saw that, they were immediately bolstered by her presence. Their colonel had been a terror on the battlefield. They had seen her skill and temerity firsthand. Together, they had all won their objectives and viciously taken back their land.

But she always did so as a tactical genius, not a field commander.

Though they were awed, they were also fearful. They realized that with her taking to the field, this might have been their final gambit, that there might not be any more victories after this one.

Not after they had lost so much in so little time.

The colonel seethed with anger, but not a single drop of it bled out over the comms. Instead, she sharpened it into an edge, and matched her tone to reflect it. She wanted to instil everyone under her command with that sense of lethal fury. After all, it was the most lethal weapon they had against all their enemies.

“Hussars,” she said. “Compatriots. Friends. We’ve suffered the encroachment of these Federation rats for long enough. They’ve had their chance to scurry off, but instead they dug in and spread their rot.

“The time has come for extermination. By earth, or fire, or steel. Though we may all die here, we the 201st, will ensure their absolute annihilation. None shall leave this field alive.”

Her Hussars all cheered. The fear that had permeated them was pushed down and suppressed by their colonel’s valorous words.

“Artillery!” she commanded. “Power up and fire on my mark!”

A forward operations wing up on the ridge then painted the Federation bunker with their targeting array. The array blanketed an entire swath of land around the hill, with the bunker and its pillboxes at the very center of it.

Below the ridge, the artillery mecha pilots cranked open their power limiters. Their systems lit up and hummed deeply as energy coursed through them. No doubt, all manner of alarms went off in that bunker as they did so.

No amount of energy baffling could mask the energy signatures of hundreds of high-powered mecha.

Beside each mecha was a triangular stack of 300mm shells, each one with a tungsten-carbide rod acting as the projectile. Each one was exactly 2 meters long, and tapered slightly towards the front. But it wasn’t sharp like a normal artillery shell would be. Instead, it was slightly rounded and completely blunted at the tip.

Also alongside each mecha was a sturdy humanoid drone that assisted in reloading and maintaining the cannon itself.

One of them picked up a shell, loaded into the cannon in front of it, then ducked away to hold the rest of the shells in place. Inside the mecha, the pilot made small adjustments to their stance and lockup and angle to ensure they were square on target.

Large spikes popped out of the mecha’s legs, and drove themselves into the ground, which further stabilized their position. The moment they were set and steady, green circles appeared around their targeting reticles.

Full readiness alerts came up on the artillery commander’s displays, and so barked his orders to the unit in response.

“10-volley to empty... And fire!”

The first ten mecha then fired their howitzer cannons in unison, and an earth-shattering BOOM erupted from their combined blasts. A wave of energy swept out from them, and blew away dust, stones, and larger debris.

The loading drones braced themselves against the forces of the blast, their clawed feet dug deep into the ground and kept them steady. At the same time, they held onto the piles of shells, and ensured they stayed put.

Then, the unit fired their cannons in succession, ten mecha at a time. One row right after another fired a barrage of rods high into the sky, until all of them had fired their first shell each.

The tungsten rods were far beyond view by the time gravity tugged on them, and pulled them back downwards.





Down below, the Federation bunker had long since detected the enemy mecha. In fact, the moment they powered on, the entire base went into deep lockdown. All of the repair mecha were quickly ushered inside, and the doors were shut behind them. Firmly. The guns within the pillboxes were withdrawn, and their blast shielding lowered.

They were mostly secure by the time the first tungsten rods fell from the sky. Their velocity punched through the dark clouds and allowed sunlight to pierce through the gaps. And when they hit the ground, the impact was beyond devastating.

Each one thundered as they left little craters all over the painted area. The hill was blasted apart as rod after rod rained down on it. Though each one wasn’t very large, when they struck the ground as a group, the earth erupted violently.

Chunks of dirt and large stones were kicked up into the air, and the vibrations of each impact was felt far and wide.

But the artillery unit was far from finished. Once every single one of them had fired their first salvo, their drones immediately unloaded the spent shell. They then loaded in a fresh one from the pile, and went back to their positions.

After a round of adjustments and targeting verification, their commanding officer issued the order to fire again.

Once again, row after row of artillery fired their guns and rained down solid rods of doom down on the Federation bunker. The dull grey rods smashed into the ground and pulverized absolutely everything they struck.

They rained down terror on the bunker, volley after volley, until every shell was spent and there was nothing left to fire. Over two thousand tungsten rods hammered down on the hill, and left it little more than a smoldering mound of earth.

Around the hill, half of the pillboxes were smashed into slag or made useless. Some were caved in, while others were unable to reopen their ruined blast shields. Those that were still operational were only partially so – their armor had been wrenched open, and parts of the boxes were exposed to the world.

Only a relative few were fully armed and armored.

The exposed portions of the bunker had been torn to shreds: its outer airlock doors were wrenched open, and their armor was pounded to oblivion. Worse, the structure and foundation had cracked greatly. One portion of the hill had collapsed and caved into part of the bunker, where a number of Federation engineers met their untimely end.

Smoke billowed out from the darkness within and rose up to join the rest of the darkened clouds above. Few rays of light shone through, but they were shut out one by one as the gaps drew closed.

Back at the Hussar encampment, the artillery mecha shed their cannons and rearmed themselves with rifles. At the same time, their comrades powered up and moved into strike formation.

The first two hundred Hussars, led by their colonel, then took to the field and advanced on the bunker at speed. Dust kicked up behind them as they cruised into position. Two hundred meters behind them was the next squadron. And the next behind them.

They all bore down on their enemy with their rifles high and thrusters to the maximum. Like their colonel had said – no-one was going to get out alive.