With his mouth turning dry with fear, Sheridan continued to advance. He could feel the adrenaline surging through his veins. He fought to control the feelings in his body. Turning back wasn’t an option.
A couple of seconds later, Sheridan slowly dropped to one knee beside a tree. Just up ahead in a small clearing were three dark shapes moving about. It was hard to tell who or what they were.
One of the shapes reached down, grabbed hold of something and hauled it up off the ground. A terrified woman cried out, begging for mercy.
Sheridan’s blood turned cold when he heard one of the enemy fighters suggest that they should rape her before they killed her. Confusion filled his mind; Kurgans didn’t care for humans, yet he could clearly hear what they were saying.
“No!” screamed the woman as she was thrown to the ground.
“Damn it,” muttered Sheridan. He had hoped to avoid contact with the enemy, but he knew he couldn’t leave a helpless civilian to be violated. Sheridan looked over his shoulder at Agnar. “We need to help that woman. You take the one on the right and I’ll take the one on the left. I want the son of a bitch in the middle taken alive.”
Agnar nodded his head.
“Now,” said Sheridan as he stood up and walked out into the open. He set his weapon’s sights on the chest of his target and fired off a three round burst, as did Ragnar. Both enemy fighters dropped to the snow-covered ground, dead.
The third soldier was bent over tearing at his victim’s clothes when his comrades were gunned down. He had left his rifle on the ground. Suddenly, seeing two men advancing towards him, he reached for his weapon. He was too slow. Sheridan fired, hitting him in the shoulder. A second later, Agnar stood above him and brought his gun down onto his head, knocking him unconscious.
“Sir, they’re men, just like us,” said Agnar, looking down at the man he had just laid out cold.
Sheridan stood there shaking his head. “I know I heard them speaking Kurgan.” He bent down and took a better look at soldier he had shot. There was no denying that he was human, but he was wearing a white camouflaged uniform and carrying a strange looking weapon.
“Please don’t kill me,” whimpered a woman lying face down in the muck.
Sheridan ran over and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “We won’t harm you. My name is Second Lieutenant Mike Sheridan. I’m here to help you.”
Slowly, the woman turned her head over and looked up at Sheridan. Her face was covered in dirt. She looked to be no more than twenty years old.
“Are you with the soldiers in the capital?” she asked.
“No, we’re not,” replied Sheridan, helping her up onto her unsteady feet.
With tears streaking down her face, she tried pulling her torn clothes together. It was then that Sheridan noticed that there were other bodies lying face down in the snow. He counted six men and women. All had been shot dead. He gritted his teeth in anger.
“Sir, what do you want to do with this one?” asked Agnar, pointing down at the unconscious soldier.
“Quickly, tie him up and then put a dressing on his wound. We’re taking him with us.”
As soon as they were ready, Sheridan led the young woman by the arm while Agnar carried their prisoner on over his right shoulder.
Cole saw them coming and stood up. “Sir, you were cutting it fine. Another minute and I was gone.”
“Sergeant, please have Private Garcia look after this woman,” said Sheridan.
Cole was surprised to see a terrified and disheveled woman standing behind Sheridan.
“Jesus, sir, what happened back there?”
“I’ll tell you later. We’ve got a Kurgan prisoner with us and he’s human. I need you to lead us all away from here. Pick a route that takes us deeper into the woods. Find us a good spot that’s well off the beaten track, I want to interrogate our prisoner and find out just what the hell is going on.”
Thirty minutes passed before they stopped. Cole made sure that Andrews and Obermman were on sentry before telling the rest of the party to rest.
Agnar dropped their prisoner on the ground and then pulled the gag from the man’s mouth. The injured man winced in pain.
Sheridan and Cole moved over by the detainee.
“Water?” said Sheridan in Kurgan, holding up his canteen.
The man’s eyes instantly widened. His mouth fell agape. “Are you a believer?” asked the astounded man.
Sheridan shook his head. “No, not at all.”
“But you can speak the word of the Lord. Only true believers are taught the word of the Lord.”
Sheridan paused for a moment. He wanted to make sure that he didn’t mess up what he was saying. “I’m an officer and was taught Kurgan at school. Who are you, and why are you speaking Kurgan?”
“My name is Kyrad and I speak the language of our Lord.” The man looked at Sheridan’s dirt-covered face. “And you’re lying. I don’t believe that an unbeliever was taught the words of the Lord at a human school.”
“But you are human, not Kurgan.”
“Blasphemy!” It was as if the very thought repulsed the prisoner. “I am a chosen citizen of the Kurgan Empire. I am not a non-believer like you. I am Kurgan.”
Sheridan handed the man his canteen and then translated the conversation for Cole.
“I don’t get it, why does he think he’s one of them?” pondered Cole.
“I don’t know, but the Kurgan Empire isn’t homogeneous. They have other species as citizens, so it’s not inconceivable that they made humans part of their empire.”
“Sir, I thought you said that they looked down on us as being a lesser form of life.”
Sheridan glanced at their prisoner. “This man clearly is a convert to the Kurgan religion. If he and others like him were indoctrinated into Kurgan’s culture, I suspect that they might now be seen as equals.”
“Where the hell does he come from?”
“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” Sheridan knelt down beside the prisoner. “Ok, Kyrad, I accept that you are Kurgan, which planet do you come from?”
“Kollos,” replied the prisoner, handing Sheridan back his canteen.
Sheridan wracked his brain trying to think if he had ever heard of a planet called Kollos. “Kyrad, where is Kollos located in the empire?”
“It is just on our side of the ceasefire line, it had another name at one time, but after liberation it was renamed in honor of one of the Lord’s disciples.”
“Good God,” mumbled Sheridan.
Cole asked, “What is it? What’s wrong, sir?”
Sheridan struggled to comprehend what he had just learned. “Sergeant, at the end of the last war, there were star systems on both sides of the border that had once belonged to the other side. As part of the ceasefire agreement, we dispatched fleets of ships to withdraw our people from the Kurgan side of what we now call the Disputed Zone. They did the same for their colonists. I’m beginning to think that we weren’t told the whole truth. This man is living proof that not everyone was brought back across our side of the line.”
“To be honest, sir, when Tartov told us his story about suspecting that there was a traitor onboard his ship, I thought he was full of crap. However, after seeing this man with my own eyes and hearing what you have said, I have to wonder how many of these people there have been infiltrated into our military.”
Garcia walked over. “Sir, the woman is dehydrated and has bruises all over her body. She was probably abused for quite some time before you found her. I’ve given her something for the pain.”
“What’s her name?” asked Sheridan.
“Kelly Green.”
“Watch the prisoner,” Sheridan told Agnar. He walked over to Kelly and saw that she was nibbling on a cracker; there was an IV in her arm. “Kelly, how are you feeling?”
“Fine, thank you,” quietly replied the woman.
Sheridan knelt down next to her. “Kelly, I’m sorry about the people who were killed by the Kurgans. Wh
at were you doing back there?”
“I was looking for my younger brother, Eric. We were all looking for loved ones who had gone missing.”
“What happened?”
“We were detained by some of the Chosen.”
“The Chosen?” asked Sheridan, having never heard the term before.
“That’s what those traitors call themselves. They marched us away from the refugee camp and into the woods. There were more of us at first, but they took turns taking some of the people out, abusing and then killing them. Oh God, I thought I was going to die.” Tears welled up in her dark brown eyes.
“It’s ok, you’re safe with us. Do you have any family back in the camp?”
Kelly shook her head. “My father is back on Earth visiting relatives. My mother was shot by a Chosen fighter on the first day they arrived. She tried to stop some men who were attempting to take my brother and several other young boys away.”
“I’m sorry,” said Sheridan, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Lieutenant, the Chosen have Kurgan officers with them, but they did nothing to stop the rapes and the killing. They told us that their officers told them they could do with as they please.”
Sheridan turned his head back towards their prisoner. Hate filled his heart. He stood. “Look after her, Garcia.”
Cole saw the cruel look in Sheridan’s eyes and placed a hand on his arm. “Sir, I know what you’re thinking, but he’s a prisoner and under our protection. He may be a murderous thug, but we’re Marines and we follow the laws of war, even if, from time to time, we don’t agree with them.”
“What would you have me do with him, Sergeant?” asked Sheridan, instantly regretting his tone. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “We can’t drag him along with us and we can’t leave him. If he’s found, he’ll tell them that we’re out here and they’ll come looking for us.”
“Sir, I don’t know what we’re going to do. All I do know is that if you take matters into your own hands, your men will think that they can too and that’s when discipline falls apart. You’ve earned the right to wear a gold bar, now exercise some leadership. The right thing is quite often the hardest thing to do.”
Sheridan knew Cole was right. He wasn’t thinking straight. “Agnar, tie our prisoner up. He’s coming with us. You’re responsible to keep our prisoner alive.”
“Yes, sir,” responded Agnar. With a smile, he tied up and gagged their captive.
“What about the woman?” queried Cole.
“She’s coming with us at least as far as the refugee camp. Perhaps there’s someone there who can look after her.”
“If not?”
Sheridan let out a deep sigh. “I guess she’ll have to come with us to the capital. I’m not leaving her alone out here with these Chosen murderers.”
A sound as loud as a thunderclap going off above their heads suddenly filled the woods.
Everyone instinctively ducked and looked about trying to see where the noise was coming from. The night sky turned as bright as day as Kurgan rockets streamed from their launchers towards the capital. Joined seconds later by hundreds of artillery pieces, a deadly barrage rained down.
The enemy’s preparations were over. The fight for the city had just begun.
Chapter 11
The Kurgan fighter dove for the surface of the small moon, trying to shake off its pursuer. Flying meters from the rocky surface, the craft headed straight for a canyon.
“Oh no, you don’t,” said Tarina to herself as she brought her sleek ship in behind the fleeing Kurgan fighter. She was flying a Corsair, a newly designed fighter currently being rushed into service with the fleet’s fighter carriers.
Both ships had expended all of their missiles on other fighters during a dogfight above Illum Prime. They were both down to guns only.
Tarina watched as her opponent dove into the deep canyon that ran like a jagged scar along the surface of the moon. She quickly followed. Dressed in a skintight survival suit, Tarina knew that if her craft were hit that the chances of her ejecting safely were almost non-existent. Even if she did, she only had six hours of oxygen before she died.
A buzzer sounded in her helmet followed by a robotic sounding voice. “Warning, you are flying too close to the sides of the canyon.”
“I know, I know,” replied Tarina as she skillfully flew through a narrow portion of the canyon, missing the walls by less than one meter.
Ahead, the Kurgan fighter bobbed and weaved from side to side, trying to throw off Tarina’s aim. She had to give her opponent credit, whoever was flying that craft knew how to fly.
Her ship’s targeting computer was only good for engaging targets with missiles; without them, she was reduced to using the illuminated aiming circle on her heads up display. She depressed the trigger on her joystick. A burst of thirty millimeter depleted uranium rounds shot towards the Kurgan fighter. The shots missed, striking the wall of the canyon and tearing of chunks of rock, which hit the sides of her ship as she flew past.
A second later, her opponent shot straight up out of the canyon.
Tarina had been expecting the move and chased after him. She knew that her adversary was trying to get in behind her. However, her Corsair fighter was faster and more maneuverable than the Kurgan’s craft.
They climbed higher and higher. Every time Tarina lined up the fighter in her sight, he would move away, it was as if he knew what she was thinking.
“Warning, you are running low on fuel,” said the voice in her helmet. “Break off the engagement and return to your ship immediately.”
“There’s no way I’m letting him go, not now,” replied Tarina as she increased her speed trying to close the distance between them.
The Kurgan dodged another burst of cannon fire.
Tarina swore. Not only was she running low on fuel, if she did not destroy the enemy craft soon, she would soon run out of ammo as well. Up ahead, the Kurgan fighter banked over. It had given up trying to shake off the pursuing craft; it now fled straight back towards the remnants of its battered fleet.
“I got you now,” crowed Tarina as she lined up the enemy craft for a killing shot.
A red light flashed inside the cockpit. “Warning, incoming missile!”
Tarina looked down at her console and saw the deadly projectile streaking towards her from behind. She instantly reached for a button on her console and activated her fighter’s countermeasures. Chaff ejected from the sides of her craft, trying to draw off the missile. With her teeth gritted, Tarina pushed the joystick hard over as she tried to get away from the incoming projectile.
The voice in her helmet warned, “Countermeasures have failed. Time to impact three seconds.”
Tarina in desperation spun her Corsair about one hundred and eighty degrees and fired her cannon hoping to strike the missile before it hit her.
A half-second later, a bright white light flashed before her eyes. Her craft shuddered.
“Ok, open it up. Get her out of there,” said a new voice in her helmet.
The image in front of her changed from deep space to a training mock-up of a Corsair. The cockpit flipped open and two technicians reached inside to remove her helmet and undo her safety harness.
“Second Lieutenant Pheto, report to Major Jolson,” called out a voice over the training hangar’s PA system.
Tarina swore. It was the third time in as many days that she had been killed during a simulated dogfight. With her helmet under her arm, she took a deep breath and strode through the building. She gritted her teeth and avoided looking into the eyes of her fellow trainees as she made her way to Major Jolson’s office. She stopped, collected her thoughts and knocked on the open door.
“Come in,” said Jolson curtly.
Tarina stepped inside the office, came to attention and smartly saluted her superior officer.
Jolson looked up and returned the salute.
“Miss Pheto, take a seat,” said Jolson, pointing to a chair in front of his
desk.
Tarina sat down; it was then that she noticed that there was another officer in the room. Sitting off to one side was a man in his early forties. He wore a flight suit with colonel’s silver eagle on his collar.
Jolson stood up and closed the door. “Miss Pheto, do you have anything to say for yourself?”
Tarina closed her eyes for a second. God damn it, I blew it. I’m being reassigned to a rear echelon transport unit, flashed in her mind. Clearing her throat, Tarina said, “Sir, I had the Kurgan fighter in my sights. In another second, he would have been destroyed.”
“Instead you were.”
“Sir, I don’t think it was a fair test of my abilities.”
“Oh, and why is that, Miss Pheto?”
“Sir, the people running the simulation didn’t give me a chance. My ship’s radar should have detected the other Kurgan fighter long before he fired off his missile.”
Jolson sat down on the edge of his table and looked down at Tarina. “Miss Pheto, you can’t always count on your fighter’s electronics. Sometimes they fail and all you have is your skill as a pilot to save your ass in combat. Don’t forget that you broke formation to chase after that Kurgan fighter. Lone wolves tend to get themselves killed. Maybe not today, but one day in the future, you’ll meet your match and there will be no one to cover your six and you’ll die.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Tarina. He was right. She had become too focused on killing her opponent that she failed to see what was around her. Her tunnel vision had killed her again.
“Miss Pheto, you’re an exceptional pilot, but I don’t think you have the temperament to be a fighter pilot onboard a fleet carrier,” said Jolson. “It takes a disciplined team to win in battle.”
Tarina felt as if her chest was in a vice and it was slowly closing, cutting off the oxygen to her lungs. “Sir, if you’ll give me another chance, I’ll do better the next time.”
Jolson shook his head. “I’m sorry Miss Pheto, you’ve had three kicks at the can. You’re reckless. Perhaps if there wasn’t a war on we could take the time to break you of your bad habits. However, with the fleet screaming for trained pilots, I can’t in good conscience send you out there to die or get someone else killed because of your carelessness.”
First Strike (The Kurgan War Book 1) Page 8