“Are you hurt, Ilithyia?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”
James stood and helped her to her feet. She blinked then her eyes went wide as she recognised him, and she opened her mouth to say something but he did not give her a chance.
“Quickly! Where is the Captain?”
Her mouth hung open, he had spoken with her in her own language. She swallowed then glanced round and pointed. “Over there.”
The Captain was trapped under her command chair; its mountings having been pulled from the deck because of the force of the impact. James smelt acrid smoke, and his eyes started to water. They didn’t have long before the ship caught fire or worse. He turned to Ilithyia.
“You seem to be the senior officer left standing, get everyone out as fast as possible –make sure they take as many weapons as they can carry.”
“What about the Captain?”
“Leave her to me, I’ll get her out. Now get going.”
She did as he asked. James turned back to the Captain. He strained against the chair, and slowly it started to move. He moved it sufficiently to drag her out. She had a deep cut on her head, but she was still breathing. He picked her up in his arms and made his way to the escape hatch. When he got there it was about ten feet from the ground. The rest of the surviving crew were assembling under Ilithyia’s command.
James shouted, “I NEED HELP OVER HERE!”
Ilithyia detailed a couple of crew members to assist him. He carefully lowered the Captain down to them then swung down himself. The smell of smoke was getting stronger. He quickly surveyed the surrounding country – about half a mile away was some high ground with rocky crags. He looked round, the crew was milling around aimlessly; Ilithyia and a couple of others were kneeling over the Captain.
Oh God, this lot is hopeless, have they never trained for this situation?
He ran over to where they were.
“Is everyone out?”
“Yes, I think so,” Ilithyia replied.
‘Did you get as many weapons as possible?”
“Yes, they are stacked there,” she pointed.
“Right, quickly, we need to get to the high ground over there.” He indicated the low ridge in the distance.
“Why?”
James sighed, “Can’t you smell the smoke? The ship is very likely going to catch fire soon and probably explode. And we might soon have company.”
“Company?”
“Yes, the ones who attacked us. How long do you think it will be before they come to finish us off?”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” She stood and shouted. “QUICKLY, PICK UP THE WEAPONS AND MAKE YOUR WAY TO THAT RIDGE OVER THERE.”
The crew did as Ilithyia had ordered. James bent down and put the Captain over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. Ilithyia followed James closely. He ran to the high ground and ducked behind a crag, gently lowering the Captain to the ground. He looked back – flames were starting to appear along the side of the large ship and there was a small explosion. James looked round; they were all standing watching the ship.
“GET DOWN, YOU FOOLS!” he shouted.
Most dived behind the crag. He pulled Ilithyia down beside him just as the ship exploded. The ground shook and seemed to lift with the force of it. James covered Ilithyia as the debris rained down around them. He waited a little while then peered over the edge of the crag. The stern of the ship had disappeared. The rest was smoking from one or two places, but the danger seemed to have passed. The explosion must have been caused by the main engines.
He stood up and pulled Ilithyia to her feet. Most of the crew was standing or sitting, looking dazed. The few crew members that had not ducked at James’s hout were all dead; the falling debris had killed another.
The ship had crashed in the middle of a large empty plain with rocky outcrops like the one they had reached. The surface was a coarse dust and stones, the rocks covered by a kind of lichen. James examined the Captain who was still unconscious.
Ilithyia turned to him. “What do we do now?”
“We need to move further up this outcrop – the top has a ridge around it and some large heavy overhangs that will make the basis of a reasonable defensive position. You need to send some of the crew back to the remains of the ship to see what can be salvaged. We need food, warm clothing, and some heavy weapons if they can be removed from the ship.”
She nodded and issued the orders as he had suggested.
“You need to tell them to hurry; we don’t know how long we have.”
The crew members hurried away to the ship.
“Do you have any first aid kits? We need to tend to the wounded.”
“No, they were in the medical section that was destroyed during the battle.”
“Was the medical staff all killed as well?”
She nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”
James noticed tears forming in her eyes. Without thinking he, spontaneously gave her a hug. She put her head on his shoulder, and he felt her body shake with uncontrolled sobs.
“Hey, haven’t you been trained for this?”
He felt her head shake, and then she pulled away, wiping her face with shaking hands. The wet tears left streaks in the dust on her face. For a moment, she looked very vulnerable. James’s heart went out to her.
“N…No, we always get others to fight for us then when it is over we move in.”
“What about the weapons and the ships?”
“Everything is just for show. We arrive with overwhelming force and never have to fight.”
James sighed. “All right, don’t worry, if we set up a good defence and stay behind it then we should survive until rescue comes. I assume you managed to send a distress call?”
She blinked. “Yes, we managed to get off several distress calls before we crashed. A fleet patrols outside the nebula to monitor the Gunards. If they picked up our signal, they should be here within the next twenty-four hours.” She shook her head. “Jamestaylor, I don’t know what to do.”
Oh my God! I hope the enemy are as inexperienced as this lot, or we won’t last an hour let alone twenty four.
“Right, Ilithyia, let’s get the wounded up the hill under the rock overhangs.”
He picked up the Captain and put her across his shoulders. The rest of the walking wounded made their way up the hill with them. Some of the crew remained behind to bury the dead.
When they got to the top, James left the Captain with one of the lesser wounded and returned to help with carrying the weapons up the hill. Once they were all stacked, he ran down to the ship to see how the salvage was progressing. Ilithyia stayed close to him; it was easier that way as she could give the orders he suggested to her. They had managed to salvage a great deal of food, water, blankets and warm clothes. More important they had recovered three heavy cannons with tripods. James ensured they were placed so they would cover the whole of the small valley in front of them as well as being able to fire upwards if necessary.
They were just finishing the last of the recovery operation when a small atmosphere capable craft flew low overhead.
“RIGHT, WE NEED TO GET BACK FAST!” James shouted.
The rest of the salvage teams followed him back to their new stronghold. They just got undercover in time when three attack craft flew overhead and fired missiles at the remains of the ship. They passed again and fired another salvo, totally destroying what was left. James had told Ilithyia to order everyone to remain hidden and not fire on the craft. He hoped the Gunards would leave them in peace, with the destruction of the remains of the cruiser and only a few survivors not worth bothering with.
James sat down with his back to the buttress. The unevenness of the rock dug into his back. The low murmuring of voices permeated his senses. He let his thoughts wander. It seemed almost impossible that it was less than a month ago he was in his fighter following the contours of the Great Glen in Scotland. Now, he was sitting on a rocky outcrop on an alien moon
orbiting an alien planet, thousands of light years from that Scottish glen, preparing to fight a battle with aliens who had taken him from all that he knew against aliens he really knew nothing about. The hard rock against his back seemed to be the only real thing in his existence. The rest was just a dream he would soon wake up from.
Ilithyia sat herself next to him. “Jamestaylor?”
James jumped.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. The Captain has just died – I am now the most senior officer. Can I rely on your help to see this through?”
James smiled to himself. What a turn round, yesterday she could just as easily have shot me!
“Jamestaylor?”
“What? Oh, yes, of course I will help you.”
She was silent for a moment. “Jamestaylor, how is it you can suddenly speak our language? What else can you do?”
James shrugged. “I learnt it from one of your computers.” He pulled the small computer from his pocket and held it out to her.
“That is not possible, it takes weeks to learn a language as fluently as you have. You have no accent at all.”
“Oh, it is possible if you know the right techniques.”
He turned to look at her sitting next to him. Her dark fathomless eyes were regarding him; they burned his soul.
The circling craft broke away and flew off over the horizon. James stood. “We have to get everyone organised.” He held out his hand, she took it and he pulled her to her feet. He walked with her among the crew, positioning them behind the rock buttresses ensuring they were all protected by overhang and all had a clear field of fire into the valley below. “Now, everyone should eat and rest.”
Less than half an hour later a large ship flew overhead and landed just beyond the wreckage of the cruiser.
“Damn! I hoped they would leave us alone,” James spoke to himself. He felt the adrenalin and an emptiness in his stomach.
“Ilithyia, you need to get everyone to their firing positions as quickly and quietly as possible. Tell them they must hold their fire until you give the order. Under no circumstances should anyone fire until then.”
Ilithyia moved away, dispensing her orders to the crew. James made his way to one of the tripod-mounted heavy lasers. He sat on the small seat that was part of the gun mounting. The butt of the gun split into two curved arms that he rested on his shoulders. The targeting computer linked with his mind. He could move the gun by looking at the target. The target information and aiming cross hairs were superimposed on his vision by the computer. The effect was almost the same as his helmet head up display in the Typhoon fighter aircraft; however, there was no helmet. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves.
James looked round at the defensive lines that he had Ilithyia set up. There were two – the foreword defence and a fallback position where the heavy lasers were mounted. He had tried to use the geology of the hill to its best advantage; it must have been formed by the upwelling of magma in between layers of a softer rock. The soft rock was being eroded away by the wind leaving the tilted flows of granite. It was the granite that formed the overhangs and buttresses. It was a naturally formed fortress. The defenders were moving around nervously, and James felt sorry for them as they had never been in this situation before.
He turned his attention to the Gunards. They had landed and were disembarking from their ship. There looked to be several hundred of them – 280 popped into his mind; he had forgotten the active tactical computer on the laser processing what he was looking at. He increased the system magnification.
The Gunards looked really alien. Their faces had long snouts, their eyes were high, protruding and on the side of their heads. A little like rats! Their hands had only three fingers and a thumb. Several had reached the wreck and were walking round it. James had an idea. He disconnected from the gun’s computer and concentrated his mind on the nearest Gunard. He touched it gently. His mind swam, and nausea overcame him such that he was almost physically sick. If it had not been for the gun’s harness, he would have fallen. The mind had been utterly alien. He swallowed, fighting down the sickness and shuddered. These aren’t Lantian synthetic life forms! The stupid Sinestrians had tried to destroy the very thing they wanted to nurture.
He reconnected to the gun’s computer. The Gunard he had targeted had stumbled and was holding its head. It seemed to shake itself and then continued, walking around the wreck as if nothing had happened. James held his breath; there was still a chance they might just investigate the ship and leave. But as he watched, one looked in their direction. He seemed to wave at the others, and a group started to walk towards the outcrop.
Oh fuck, here we go!
James fingered the trigger nervously as he tracked the leading Gunard. One stopped and lifted what looked like a pair of binoculars and scanned the outcrop. He must have spotted something as he dropped to his knees and waved to his comrades round the wreck. They spread out and, running low, came level to the one with the binoculars. As the rest of the squad came round from behind the wreck someone from the Sinestrians fired. One of the Gunards fell.
Oh shit, the idiots! James felt his nerves turn to anger. Whatever happened now they were committed to a firefight. Some of the Gunards started to assemble what looked like a heavy weapon. The rest were starting to move forward, firing as they came. The Sinestrians panicked and fired back without waiting for orders. James sighed. He targeted the group assembling the heavy weapon, and squeezing the trigger he fired. The targeting movement was smooth, and there was no recoil. The whole thing seemed unreal. The only sounds were crackles of superheated air as the pulses of light exited the muzzles of the guns.
James had the option of pulsed fire or a continuous beam. The drawback was power usage, and on continuous fire the weapon would overheat quickly. The heavy gun exploded, scattering the Gunards round it. The fire from the Gunards intensified as the rest of the squad came forward. One of the other Sinestrian heavy cannons was firing on the transport ship. A group of Gunards were firing in James’s direction. He targeted them and fired, the computer highlighting each target in turn. The Gunards that had been caught in open ground were killed in the first few minutes; the ones that had found cover were kept pinned down and picked off as the opportunity arose. The fire from the valley slowly lessened until it stopped altogether. The surviving Gunards worked their way back to their ship, and it took off. James disconnected from the gun’s computer and dismounted from the tripod. He checked the time, finding that over an hour and a half had passed. He frowned; the whole thing seemed to have lasted only minutes. Keeping low he made his way to the forward firing position looking for Ilithyia. She was with a small group of female junior officers and looked up as he came to them.
“How is everyone holding up Ilithyia?”
“Jamestaylor, we have lost seven killed and ten wounded. On average, the rifles have used one power pack each. There are two spare power packs for each person plus the ones recovered from the casualties.”
James scanned the group of women; most looked haunted and hollow-eyed, and all their faces were covered in the brown dust that was everywhere.
“Right, you should all grab something to eat and drink and try to get some rest before the next attack comes.”
They all nodded, rose, and keeping low behind the rock set off to their various positions to eat and rest. He sat down opposite Ilithyia, who was sitting with her back to the buttress, her rifle held across her knees. He passed her some rations, and water he had put in his flying suit pockets. She shook her head.
“Ilithyia, you must eat, we don’t know how long before the next attack and how long it will last.” She unwrapped the ration bar and reluctantly started to eat it. It took a while for her to finish it, but she did. After drinking from the water bottle, she passed the remainder to James.
“Have you posted guards as I told you to?”
She nodded. “Yes, as per the Rota you suggested.”
James smiled. “Good, now try to sl
eep.”
To his surprise she moved and sat next to him, putting her head on his shoulder. He cautiously put his arm round her, not knowing what reaction he would get. She made no comment, just adjusted her position, and fell asleep almost immediately. James finally fell asleep himself. He dreamed someone was shaking him and woke up.
“Quickly, they are back.” It was one of the guards. Ilithyia had woken at the same time.
James sheepishly moved his arm and stood up. He hesitated then turned to her smiled and said. “See you later.”
Without waiting for a reply, he ran back to the heavy laser. There were four large transports landing just out of range. He engaged the targeting computer and watched. The transports lowered their ramps and started to disgorge their passengers. Once they were all out and forming up, the tactical computer could give him an estimation of numbers. There were over 1,500 troops, also some heavy guns that looked bigger than the ones James was operating, so they probably had a longer effective range. James wondered if it were possible to dismount the gun and target it manually.
The reply from the computer was unexpected. He had forgotten he was logged in. The computer informed him that it was possible and the targeting system could be locked to where the gun was pointing, instead of aiming the gun where the operator was looking. He unclipped it from the tripod. It was quite heavy, but nonetheless manageable. He worked his way down to the forward firing position. He had noted a gulley some way down the slope and to one side. If he could reach it, the enemy’s heavy guns would be in range.
Ilithyia crept up to him. “What are you doing?”
“Their new heavy guns are out of range; they can sit there and pick us off. If I could get to that gully down there they will be in range of this laser.”
She looked concerned, and James felt the worry and stress she was under. “OK, please be careful.”
“I will be fine. I will still be out of range of their hand-held weapons, and the heavy ones are not setup yet. Just ensure you cover me when I make my way back.”
“I don’t understand what you mean?”
Guardian Generations Page 13