"Yes, sir!"
The missile team stepped forward in unison.
Rocket launcher operators shouldered their weapons, adjusting their posture and locking onto their targets, while their assistants retrieved conventional warheads from equipment crates and began loading them.
Just as one assistant reached out to tap the helmet of their operator, signaling they were ready to fire—
Pfft—Pfft-chhk—!!
The head of the lieutenant commanding their platoon and the operator carrying the rocket launcher exploded simultaneously, spraying blood in every direction.
Bang—Bang—~!
Only then did the rest of the soldiers hear the echo of large-caliber sniper rifle fire.
!!
This sudden and precise attack immediately sent the entire platoon scrambling, dropping to the ground and using sand dunes as cover.
It wasn't just Lyon and Maggie's platoon under attack. Every platoon and company across the battlefield found themselves pinned down.
Tatatata—!
30-caliber automated machine guns began unloading a relentless barrage, tearing into the sand dunes and the surrounding ground.
The intelligent tracking bullets, capable of locking onto their targets, shredded the bodies of the frontline mobile infantry before they even had a chance to react to the gunfire.
The Federation's standard issue bulletproof helmets and armor were utterly ineffective against what were now considered obsolete weapons by Atlas Corporation standards.
!!!
The failed offensive further sapped the morale of the already wavering main force of mobile infantry.
The soldiers were completely cut off from their fleet, had no logistical support, and had just marched over 10 kilometers of scorching desert terrain. Now, many of their lieutenants, who symbolized leadership and morale, had been killed.
How were they supposed to fight like this?
The mobile infantry was still two to three kilometers away from the outer walls of the town. The western approach they had chosen was riddled with sand dunes and uneven terrain, adding another layer of difficulty to their advance.
This reliance on terrain for cover wasn't a tactical choice but rather one born out of desperation.
The Federation's military doctrine was designed to suppress rebellions or insurgencies without orbital control or heavy weapons. But since the Federation hadn't faced a fleet-equipped adversary for decades, their strategies had grown complacent and outdated.
After all, what kind of interstellar civilization, capable of colonizing planets, would still rely on tactics from World War I or World War II?
Typically, a fleet would establish orbital control, bombard the target zone with naval guns, and only then deploy heavy ground forces to secure the area. This would create a "green zone" for follow-up operations.
However, the Federation's expeditionary fleet had sent 90% of their mobile infantry to the surface before understanding the situation on the ground. This was tantamount to sending their soldiers to their deaths.
If the Blood Angels had been intent on annihilating their human counterparts, they could have launched intercept missiles as soon as the DR-4 Viking dropships entered the atmosphere, wiping out the entire 40,000-strong force in one fell swoop.
As for the 6,000 cloned soldiers acting as bait, they were fully aware of the mobile infantry's movements. Once the infantry entered their effective firing range, the clones followed their pre-programmed instructions and opened fire.
Though their AMWS (modular weapon systems) rifles were outdated and had been discarded by the Imperium's main forces, they were still vastly superior to the Federation's Morita series.
Even the 30-caliber intelligent machine guns were weapons the Federation had never encountered before.
The cloned soldiers, guided by their HUD systems, could accurately identify targets like Lyon and Maggie, who were equipped with biological IFF systems. This meant Lyon's platoon wouldn't have to worry about friendly fire from the clones.
However, the clones were unsure whether the mobile infantry's missile teams would deploy conventional warheads or tactical nukes. Since the clones didn't think or take risks, they acted preemptively.
When the missile teams prepared to fire, the clones precisely targeted the operators, assistants, and any exposed officers, taking them out from a distance.
Their ultimate objective was to draw the mobile infantry into the town for urban combat.
But the clones, devoid of independent thought, had overestimated the morale of the mobile infantry and the competency of Colonel Honard Thompson, the operation's overall commander.
Currently, the mobile infantry, suppressed by the cloned soldiers, couldn't even lift their heads.
The clones had deployed several Titan and Ravager main battle tanks, along with dozens of infantry fighting vehicles, to bolster their firepower.
On the other hand, the mobile infantry had nothing but foot soldiers.
Not a single request for air support had been sent to the Thunderbolt attack aircraft formation circling beyond the range of the town's anti-air defenses.
Outgunned and outclassed, what could the mobile infantry possibly do?
The sight of their lieutenant's body being shattered by a large-caliber AMWS sniper round had utterly terrified the new recruits, who had just finished their training and were experiencing combat for the first time.
"Sergeant Kennedy!"
Ace, carrying a radio pack, was almost entirely buried in the sand, his voice filled with fear as he yelled:
"The lieutenant's dead! What do we do? Retreat? Are we retreating?!"
"Oh my God... Oh my God..."
"I joined the Federation for citizenship, not to die out here…"
Ace wasn't the only one paralyzed by fear. The entire platoon was in a state of panic.
One female recruit couldn't handle the pressure and turned to flee.
Even the sergeant in charge of squads 3 and 4 was frozen, unsure of what to do.
The lieutenant, who had been the backbone of their morale and decision-making, was gone, leaving them adrift.
Seeing this, Lyon immediately assumed command of the platoon and shouted through their helmet comms:
"Everyone, calm down! And listen carefully: anyone who tries to desert will face immediate court-martial! Do you understand me?!"
The soldiers froze at his words.
Johnny Rico and Maggie, who already regarded Lyon as both a friend and a leader, were the first to respond:
"Sir! Yes, sir!"
Hearing their response, Frost, Ace, and the others quickly echoed their affirmation. Even the panicked female recruit returned to her place in the formation.
After confirming he had their attention, Lyon cautiously raised his head and used a binocular-like reconnaissance device to survey the western wall of the town, guarded by the cloned soldiers.
Listening to the chaotic chatter over the main command frequency, Lyon couldn't help but shake his head.
There was no coordination, no unified strategy, and no detailed pre-battle planning.
Colonel Honard Thompson had merely issued a vague order to "attack the town" and left the specifics to the officers in charge of each company and platoon.
There were no contingency plans for setbacks or any thought given to adapting to changing circumstances.
The Federation's strategy boiled down to mindlessly charging forward.
With such disorganized tactics, how could they hope to fight against the battle-hardened forces of the human Imperium?
Lyon felt as though the combat in Starship Troopers was regressing, resembling something even less advanced than the Second World War.
After a moment of thought, Lyon turned to Ace and said:
"Contact the Thunderbolt formation and request an airstrike on the western part of the town to provide fire support for the ground infantry."
Ace hesitated for a moment, still in shock.
"Now!"
"Yes, Sergeant!" Ace snapped out of it and clumsily grabbed the radio, contacting the Thunderbolts circling outside the town's anti-air range:
"This is the 226th Mobile Infantry Platoon! Requesting an airstrike on the western sector of the town! Due to heavy enemy fire, we cannot provide smoke markers for targeting!"
"...Static..."
The radio only returned bursts of static in response.
The grim expressions on Ace and the rest of the platoon made the tension palpable.
Lyon knew that as long as the town's anti-air defenses remained active, their airstrike request was a near-suicidal mission for the Thunderbolt pilots.
The earlier reconnaissance team of over a dozen Thunderbolts had been easily shot down by the town's outdated Atlas-based anti-air systems.
Though the pilots had successfully ejected, they had landed within the town's perimeter and were likely captured by the cloned soldiers by now.
And since Colonel Honard Thompson himself had not requested an airstrike, the Thunderbolt pilots had every reason to ignore a request from a single platoon.
In truth, the Thunderbolts were waiting for the infantry to neutralize the town's anti-air defenses before making their move.
After a brief pause, Lyon took the radio from Ace and spoke firmly:
"This is Sergeant Lyon Kennedy of the 226th Mobile Infantry Platoon! Our advance has been stalled, and without air support, we cannot breach the town!
If this delay continues, we'll all be trapped on New Hope with no way to escape! Do you understand what's at stake?!"
"...Static..."
Moments later, a pilot responded:
"This is Lieutenant Norland of Thunderbolt Six. We'll execute a high-altitude bombing run on the western sector. Prepare your units accordingly."
"Thank you. Over and out."
Grateful for the response, Lyon thanked the pilot before switching to the main frequency and announcing:
"This is the 226th Mobile Infantry Platoon! We've secured a high-altitude bombing run. All units, prepare to assault the town once the strike is completed! Repeat, prepare for an assault!"
"Who authorized this?!" Colonel Thompson's voice suddenly broke in, furious. "Who gave you the authority to
—"
Lyon cut off the colonel mid-sentence by disconnecting the comms and handed the radio back to Ace.
"Sergeant… That was a colonel…" Ace said nervously. "Defying a superior officer could get you court-martialed… maybe even executed."
"Court-martial?" Lyon said coldly, staring at the enemy's western defenses. "If we don't take that town, none of us will live to face a court-martial. We'll die here on New Hope. Survive first, worry about the consequences later.
Also, notify nearby units. Once the bombing starts, we'll launch a coordinated assault. If we can drag the enemy into urban combat, we might have a chance."
"Yes, Sergeant!"
Ace nodded, fully convinced by Lyon's authority, and began relaying the plan to nearby platoons.
After a tense wait:
Whoosh—Whoosh—!
The town's anti-air defenses launched a dozen missiles, leaving white trails as they streaked into the sky.
Boom! Boom-boom-boom—!
But before the missiles could reach the high-flying Thunderbolts, dozens of cluster bombs rained down, saturating the western wall and its surroundings with explosions.
Several Thunderbolt pilots then ejected, deploying their parachutes just before their aircraft were destroyed by the anti-air missiles.
Though the pilots were safe for now, it remained uncertain whether they would be captured by the clones or manage to regroup with the infantry assaulting the town.
Seeing the strike's aftermath, Lyon immediately stood and sprinted to the front of the sand dune, shouting:
"What are you waiting for, you apes?! Our comrades just cleared the way for us! Now it's our turn to finish the job! Charge!!"
With that, Lyon grabbed his Morita Command Rifle and charged toward the smoke-shrouded western side of the town.
"AAAAH! CHARGE!!!"
Hot on his heels was Ace, yelling at the top of his lungs.
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