"Why wasn't I contacted via my comlink?" Wellington asked the messenger.

"I believe it is off-line, sir," the soldier replied.

"Oh," Wellington said absent mindedly, looking at his comlink power pack. "Thank you, trooper. You may go."

The soldier saluted, and returned to the command center.

"Well, gentlemen, it seems that the enemy is concentrating its forces in Sector Delta," Wellington announced. "Front line observation posts and scouting patrols indicate that the enemy is assembling its armored and infantry units there. I suggest we make a first hand observation, gentlemen."

A few minutes later, several all terrain vehicles stopped at the Sector Delta defense perimeter and the garrison's command officers got out. Wellington and his subordinate commanders looked through their binoculars, and observed the enemy's activities. "There is no doubt that they plan to make a breakthrough in this sector, Your Grace," Colonel Hastings said.

"I agree with Hasting's assessment, Your Grace," Colonel Lindsay added.

"Any suggestions, gentlemen?" Wellington asked.

"We could pull units from other sectors to reinforce our position here," Lindsay proposed.

"That would weaken our positions in those respective sectors, Lindsay," Wellington countered. "After all, we are completely encircled by the enemy."

"I don't have any troops to spare," Hastings interjected.

"All available able bodied personnel has been assigned to the defense perimeter," Wellington added. "That includes the administrative and the logistical support units. Even some of the walking wounded have been issued arms."

"We must do something, sir," Lindsay pleaded.

"Of course, Lindsay," Wellington assured. "I know that the Black Watch will bear the brunt of any attack in this sector. We don't have any armored units to deal with the enemy tanks in case they break through the defense perimeter. Even the foremost anti-tank warfare experts can only do so much under these circumstances, gentlemen."

"I have an idea, Brigadier," Major Zardov volunteered.

"I am listening, Major," Wellington replied.

"This is the only thing that I can think of at the moment, sir," Zardov continued. "I propose that we detach a platoon each from the Black Watch, the Dukes, and the Bosnian contingent, and gather all the available transports."

"What do you have in mind, Major?" Hastings inquired.

"These three platoons will act as rapid reaction units," Zardov replied. "I want them to be divided into teams of eight squads. Each squad will be assigned either a truck or two jeeps. I want heavy machine guns to be mounted on the said vehicles. These teams will have radio communication with the command center as well as the frontline company commanders. Should any sector of the defense perimeter come under heavy attack, these units would move swiftly to help relieve the pressure on our troops."

"That's a smashing idea, Major," Lindsay exclaimed.

"Bravo, Zardov," Hastings added.

"May I make an additional suggestion, sir?" Zardov interjected.

"Go ahead, Major," Wellington responded.

"We could also mount light artillery pieces on the heavier vehicles, and convert them into improvised tanks," Zardov continued. "That would give us the ability to counter the attacks of the enemy armored units should any of them break through our defenses."

"Good idea, Major," Wellington acknowledged. "Our main objective then is to ensure that we seal in all breaches in our defenses. The rapid reaction units are not allowed, under any circumstances, to pursue the enemy. We must protect the power generators as well as the shield antennae towers. As long as the shield remains functioning, we will still have a chance against the enemy. Well, get to work, gentlemen. Time is of the essence here, and it seems to favor the enemy at the moment."

With that, the regimental and battalion commanders dispersed to carry out their respective assignments. Wellington remained at an observation post in Sector Delta, and continued monitoring the enemy's activities. "O God of battles, steel my soldiers' hearts," he uttered softly to himself. "Dear God, if there have been times that I have forgotten thee, in my hour of need do not thou forget me."

June 17, 2065. Herron Defense Perimeter, 11:42 hours.

After a tense hour of waiting, Wellington observed that the Chigs began to advance on Sector Delta of the defense perimeter through his binoculars. He activated his comlink, and contacted the command center. "Enemy armored units are advancing towards my position," he announced. "What is the status of the rapid reaction units?"

"Rapid reaction units are standing by, Your Grace," came the reply.

"All artillery units, prepare to open fire on my command," Wellington ordered, as Lindsay walked up to join him.

"You must withdraw to a safer position, Your Grace," Lindsay insisted. "You are too valuable."

"My life has the same value as any other soldier in this garrison, Lindsay," Wellington replied. "Still, I suggest we take cover though."

Forward elements of the enemy armored columns moved steadily to within 800 meters from the Earth Forces frontline positions, and opened fire as they advanced. Lindsay and his aide ran to the nearest machine gun nest. Wellington ignored the shells exploding around him, and walked towards a foxhole occupied by a group of Black Watch Highlanders. He jumped in, and removed his pistol from its holster. "All batteries commence firing," he ordered as he began shooting at the enemy.

The garrison's artillery units opened fire on the advancing enemy armored columns, and the infantry units began targeting the individual Chig soldiers. The forward enemy units were stopped dead in their tracks, but the subsequent units continued to advance. The Earth Forces frontline units came under intense pressure from the enemy. Under heavy enemy fire, Lindsay crawled to Wellington's position. "I don't think we can hold this line, sir."

"You're right, Lindsay," Wellington concurred. "I suggest we make a tactical withdrawal, Colonel."

"I agree wholeheartedly, Your Grace."

"We are abandoning our positions here," Wellington shouted into his comlink. "All units retreat to the secondary line. Withdraw to the secondary defensive positions."

Wellington, Lindsay, and the Black Watch Highlanders retreated to the secondary perimeter that was situated at the base of the shield antennae towers, some of the soldiers carrying their wounded and dead comrades. They jumped into the prepared trenches, and turned their attention to the enemy that was literally at their heels. "All units commence firing," Wellington ordered.

The defenders opened fire on the attackers with intense determination. Some of the Chig soldiers got so close that they became engaged in hand to hand combat with the Earth Forces. Wellington himself was in the midst of the melee, firing his pistol at the enemy in close quarters until he was out of ammunition. He then threw down his gun, tackled a Chig soldier to the ground in close combat, and stabbed the enemy in the thorax with a bayonet. Nicholson, Lindsay, and several troopers pulled Wellington off the dead Chig, and literally had to drag him away. The pressure was so great that the secondary perimeter began to weaken. "We can't hold this position, Your Grace," Nicholson said exasperatedly. "We have to get you to safety."

"There isn't a safe place left on this planet, Leftenant. We have to hold this position." Wellington replied angrily, breaking out of Nicholson's hold and reaching for his comlink. "Command Center, this is Wellington. Order the rapid reaction units to respond to a potential enemy breakthrough in Sector Delta! I repeat. Potential enemy breakthrough in Sector Delta."

"Copy that, Your Grace," came the reply. "The cavalry is on its way."

The rapid reaction units rushed to Sector Delta as several enemy tanks managed to pierce the secondary defensive perimeter, and began firing on the garrison's installations. Several enemy missiles destroyed the main LIDAR antenna and the satellite communication dish. An enemy shell damaged the secondary power generator on one of the shield antenna tower, and knocked out the garrison's shield. A tank duel broke out as the improvised tanks of the rapid reaction units charged against the Chig tanks with all guns blazing. Wellington, Nicholson, and some of the Highlanders took cover behind their own armored units. In the midst of the tank battle, the attacking and defending foot soldiers were engaged in their own gun battle and hand to hand combat. A Chig soldier armed with a sabre slashed Lindsay in the right thigh causing him to fall flat on his back. Wellington knocked the enemy soldier down, as he was about to stab the fallen colonel, and killed him with a bayonet. He then rushed to Lindsay's assistance.

"Are you hurt badly?" Wellington asked as he examined Lindsay's wound.

"I've had worse during the A.I. Wars, Brigadier," Lindsay replied. "I guess I owe you one."

"Just watch my back, Lindsay, and we're even," Wellington responded.

"Watch out!" The colonel screamed.

Lindsay pushed Wellington aside, and shot dead a charging Chig soldier. Wellington stared at the dead enemy in disbelief. "My God, that was close. Thanks, Colonel."

"I guess we're even, Your Grace," Lindsay replied as Wellington lifted him up.

"That must the shortest debt of honor between two gentlemen, Colonel," Wellington added, and the two men shared a quick laugh in a very serious situation as they hobbled towards an armored vehicle.

The rapid reaction units managed to push back the enemy soldiers who had penetrated the defense perimeter, and reinforced their comrades defending the perimeter in Sector Delta.

"The shield is down! The shield is down! All personnel take cover!" a communications specialist shouted on the public address system, and the air raid siren began to wail.

"Bloody Hell!" Lindsay screamed as Nicholson ran towards him and Wellington. "Not now!"

"Intensify all anti-aircraft fire," Wellington shouted into his comlink as he and Nicholson mounted an improvised tank, and pulled Lindsay up onto the vehicle. "Scramble all aircraft! Launch the chaff decoy screens. All emergency repair units report to Sector Delta antenna tower. Get the shield back up!"

A few minutes later, enemy bombers began strafing the base, and knocked out six of the ten planetary guns. Numerous anti-aircraft batteries were also put out of action as were the remaining fighters. West, Hawkes, and the remaining pilots saw their planes blown to smithereens as they scrambled to find cover during the enemy aerial bombardment. "God damn it!" Hawkes shouted as he took cover beside West behind a steel container. "What do we do now, Nathan?"

"What else can we do, Cooper?" West replied rhetorically, looking at his friend. "Reminds you of Demios, doesn't it?"

"You're telling me," Hawkes retorted as West waved the pilots over to his location.

All the remaining pilots ran up to the steel container where Hawkes and West were. "Is everyone here?" West inquired.

"All the 'Wild Cards' are present and accounted for," Hawkes acknowledged.

"What about the rest?" West asked further.

"The Argentinian pilot, Lieutenant San Tomas, is dead," Habib replied. "He was in the cockpit when his plane blew up."

"Where are the RAF pilots?" Hawkes jumped in.

"The medics are tending to them, sir," Paxton responded, pointing to several wounded personnel on the tarmac.

"Okay, this is the plan," West spoke out. "Find guns and ammo, and follow me. We're going to the front lines with the reinforcements. There's nothing much we can do here."

"Yes, sir," the 'Wild Cards' answered in unison.

The pilots grabbed whatever weapons they had or could find, and followed West as he ran after a troop transport vehicle. "Are you going to the perimeter, Trooper?" West asked the driver.

"Yes, sir," the soldier replied. "They need reinforcements at Sector Delta."

"Then, we're coming along as well," West said as he pointed at the destroyed fighters. "There's nothing for us zoomies to do over here."

"Be my guest, Captain," the driver responded as he revved up the engine. "Hang on! This will be a rough ride."

The trucks carrying the reinforcements sped off in the direction of the Sector Delta defense perimeter. The remaining anti-aircraft batteries put up a heavy resistance in defending the main base as they provided covering fire for the garrison while repair crews worked frantically to restore the shield. The chaff decoy screens absorbed some of the enemy laser salvoes, providing cover for those on the ground. Several tense minutes passed before the repair crews managed to restore power to the shield.

The fighter pilots arrived at the defense perimeter in Sector Delta with the reinforcements as their infantry comrades were driving off the remaining enemy ground units. The enemy retreated after an hour of strenuous fighting. Several paramedical corpsmen were tending to the wounded, including Lindsay. West found Wellington leaning against an improvised tank, a tear in his right sleeve, his face dirty, tired and strained. "Why aren't you airborne, Captain West?" the duke asked in a perplexed tone. "I specifically ordered all fighters to scramble."

"All planes have been destroyed in the last bombing raid, sir," West reported.

"God help us," Wellington replied. "What about the pilots, Captain?"

"The 'Wild Cards' are present and accounted for, sir," West answered. "Lieutenant San Tomas of the Fuerza Aerea Argentina 115th was blown up together with his plane. The remaining RAF pilots have been wounded in the enemy aerial bombardment."

"At least, you're all right," Wellington said as he activated his comlink. "Command Center, this is Wellington. What is your situation?"

"We took a direct hit during the aerial bombardment, sir," one of the communications specialists reported. "We have several casualties. Planetary LIDAR and the communication satellite dish are out of action. We are totally blind and isolated, sir."

"Dear God Almighty!" Wellington remarked. "I want a full damage assessment as well as the casualty reports when I return."

"Very good, sir," the command center replied.

Wellington then turned to Lindsay. "That was quite a fight, wasn't it, Colonel?"

"That it was, Your Grace," Lindsay replied, offering his hand to Wellington. "From this day onwards, I would gladly serve under the 'boy general', sir."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Colonel," Wellington responded, shaking Lindsay's hand.

"What are our orders, sir?" West interrupted. "Our planes have been permanently grounded, courtesy of the Chigs."

"Place your squadron at the disposal of the Black Watch Highlanders, Captain West," Wellington responded. "They have taken heavy casualties in the last attack, and can use all the helping hands available. Leftenant Nicholson will brief you on your assignment."

"As you wish, sir," West replied, surveying the damage and carnage around him.

"Your Grace," Nicholson spoke up.

"Yes, Leftenant," Wellington replied.

"I believe this is yours, sir," Nicholson said as he handed a pistol to Wellington. "I have reloaded it for you."

"Thank you, Leftenant," Wellington said, placing the pistol in the holster. "Well done. See to it that Colonel Lindsay gets to the medical center."

"Very good, Your Grace," Nicholson answered, saluting the duke. "And thank you, sir."

Wellington returned the salute, and began walking towards the command center.

"What exactly happened here, Nicholson?" West asked as he and the other troops observed Wellington walking away. "The Duke looked as if he was in the thick of things."

"I saw the Duke tackled a Chig to the ground, and killed him with a bayonet," Nicholson said admiringly, pointing towards Wellington. "There walks the British Lion, Captain."

June 18, 2065. Herron Defense Perimeter, 12:03 hours.

Wellington walked up and down the length of the defense perimeter that was reduced to the base of the shield antenna towers. His presence and abject disregard for personal safety gave a sense of renewed confidence to the remaining troops. He mingled freely with those soldiers under his command, giving them words of encouragement and support. Even the walking wounded, inspired by Wellington's courage and determination, obtained weapons from the quartermaster, and took up defensive positions around the medical center. Wellington had just reached the Wild Card's position as the scouts reported that the enemy columns were closing in. He jumped into the 58th's trench, and observed the enemy movements through his binoculars.
"Here they come," he shouted into his comlink.

The enemy armored vehicles poured heavy fire against the defenders. The garrison's remaining artillery pieces returned fire with equal intensity. Soon the ground troops joined in the deadly chorus of gunfire. Wellington, armed only with his pistol and several grenades, fought bravely like a common soldier. Throughout the fighting, West, Hawkes, the rest of the 58th, and the other soldiers felt total admiration for a general who had more than lived up to the legendary reputation of his ancestor. Heavy exchange of gunfire took place between the two antagonists. Paxton was struck in the shoulder by an enemy laser bolt, and he fell to the ground. Wellington, who was in the same foxhole, immediately rushed over to the wounded lieutenant. "Are you all right, Leftenant?" the concerned brigadier asked.

"I've been better, sir," Paxton grimaced, holding his left shoulder. "It's only a superficial wound, I think. I'll be okay."

"I need a medical corpsman here," Wellington spoke into his comlink as he took Paxton's discarded rifle, and began firing intensely at the enemy.

A nearby machine-gun nest was hit by an enemy shell, killing all the soldiers in that foxhole. "We must get that machine gun back into action," Wellington shouted to West.

"Habib! Hawkes!" West shouted. "Make that machine gun operational!"

"Yes, sir," Hawkes responded, turning to Habib. "Come on, Lieutenant."

"Coming, sir," Habib replied.

"I'm coming along as well," Wellington added.

"I'm right behind you, Your Grace," Nicholson interjected.

"We'll give you covering fire," West assured.

Wellington, Habib, Nicholson, and Hawkes crawled bravely to the nearby foxhole, pushed aside the dead bodies, and brought the heavy machine gun back into action. Nicholson operated the weapon while Habib fed the ammunition belt into the gun. Hawkes and Wellington frantically tore open the ammunition boxes.

"Concentrate your fire on the foot soldiers, Leftenant," the duke instructed as he fired his pistol towards the enemy. "Let the artillery chaps worry about the armored vehicles."

"Very good, Your Grace," Nicholson acknowledged.

The Chig tanks intensified their heavy fire against the defending Earth Forces. Several explosions took out numerous foxholes, and some of the British units were annihilated by enemy bombardment. Hand to hand combat broke out as the defending soldiers tried to repulse the attacking Chig foot soldiers. Several British soldiers climbed aboard the Chig tanks, and disabled them with grenades. An explosion near the 58th's position threw West to the ground. "NO!!!!" Hawkes screamed.

"Oh God!" Habib shouted as Hawkes climbed out of the machine gun nest.

"Concentrate on the enemy, Leftenant Habib!" Wellington ordered. "Maintain the rate of your fire, Leftenant Nicholson. The Chigs must not be allowed to break through our defenses!"

"Very good, Your Grace," Nicholson replied.

Montallo, Paxton, and Morales scrambled frantically to him while Hawkes dodged enemy fire running back to the foxhole. "Captain! Are you all right?" Montallo asked, anxiously removing West's helmet and checking him for injuries.

Hawkes pushed Paxton aside in order to get to West, only to find himself restrained by Morales. "Please, Lieutenant," Morales begged. "Let Montallo try to help the Captain."

"Damn it, Nathan!" Hawkes shouted. "You can't die!"

"He's alive!" Montallo said anxiously, searching through the medical kit. "He's unconscious. I don't see any visible wound, though."

Hawkes calmed a bit as he saw Montallo taking care of West. "Morales, go back into action. I'll take care of Paxton."

Morales picked up his rifle, and began firing at the enemy. Hawkes grabbed the medical kit, and took out a handful of gauze. He pressed them against Paxton's bleeding left shoulder. "Keep applying pressure on the wound until a medic gets here," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," Paxton replied, wincing as he pressed his right hand against his injured left shoulder.

Hawkes then went to Montallo's side as she held a vial of smelling salt under West's nose. West suddenly jerked back to consciousness. "What happened?" he asked hectically, trying to catch his breath. "God, I have a bad headache!"

"Calm down, sir," Montallo said reassuringly, shining a small flashlight into the captain's eyes.

"Hey! Stop that!" West ordered as Hawkes placed a restraining hold on him.

"Captain, please calm down," Montallo demanded. "I'm trying to see if you have a concussion. What is my name, sir?"

"You are 2nd Lieutenant Julia Montallo, USMC, 5th Air Wing, 58th Fighter Squadron," West replied as his body began to relax.

"Where are you, sir?" Montallo asked.

"I am in a middle of a God damned battle on Planet Herron," West answered impatiently. "Are you happy now? You're beginning to annoy me, Montallo."

Both Hawkes and Montallo smiled at the response. Hawkes leaned down, and took West's hands in his. "I'm glad you're okay, Nathan. For a minute there, we thought we had lost you."

"I'm okay, Cooper," West replied, patting Hawkes on the shoulder and giving him a smile. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

"Rest here for a little while, sir," Montallo told West, turning her attention to Paxton.

"Montallo, stay with Paxton and the Captain," Hawkes ordered, grabbing his rifle and joining Morales in action.

"You got it, sir," Montallo replied, giving Paxton a painkiller injection.

The Herron perimeter held out for five hours of heavy enemy attack. At 17:17 hours, the enemy ceased attacking, and began to withdraw.

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