by Jay Allan
“Perhaps things are worse than we thought. The Portal armies could have been wiped out already. Maybe the Tegeri are massing now, building their forces before following up with an invasion.” Jones began with an assured tone, but by the time he finished, he sounded doubtful. It just didn’t feel right. After forty years, what could have happened to utterly destroy the Earth armies? And could the war being going the same way on every world?
“I thought of that too, Carson. Which is why I checked the logistics reports for last month.” His tone was odd, and Jones got an impression how great a risk Bell had taken to get the information. “We are still sending supplies to the various armies.” He paused. “It’s strange. Food shipments have remained normal, but weapons and ammunition flows are sharply off for a number of worlds.”
“They wouldn’t be sending provisions if there weren’t troops left there…and if the armies were being pushed back, making a desperate stand, they would need ordnance, wouldn’t they?”
“Yes…they would. Even more than if they were conducting operations normally.” Bell took a look around the room, finally taking a seat on a pile of boxes. “What’s even more difficult to understand is that some worlds have been receiving military supplies while other haven’t. So if we’ve got some armies still there, eating food but using no weaponry, what are they doing? It sounds more like a scenario where they have driven the enemy offworld…or where the Tegeri chose to withdraw.”
“So what does that mean?” Jones asked the question, to no one in particular. “Fighting on some worlds, but not on others…and UNGov building a secret army on Earth?” He took a deep breath and ran his hand over his head, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “It doesn’t make sense…”
“Perhaps it does.” The voice came from the far end of the room, from an old man who had been silently watching until now.
Everyone in the room turned, almost as one, and they stared in rapt attention at the gray haired man in the corner. Stan Wickes was tall, but his body was hunched over, likely the result of years of poor nutrition. His face was worn and wrinkled, and he looked every day of his seventy years and then some. His clothes were soiled and ragged, and he looked like the homeless wanderer he was. All except for his eyes. There was a brightness there, an unmistakable intensity. And something else too. Defiance, burning brightly.
“What if it is the Tegeri who are close to defeat? What if the UNGov is preparing for the day they must control Earth without the fear of alien invasion to keep the people in line?” Wickes’ voice was far stronger and louder than one would expect looking at him. His tone was commanding, decisive.
No one answered right away. Finally, Jones spoke, his tone heavy with respect, “You may be right, Captain. That makes considerable sense.” He turned toward Bell. “Anything you’ve seen to suggest this may be possible?”
“Nothing specific,” Bell replied. “But it certainly fits with the reduction in ordnance shipments. If the planetary armies have defeated the Tegeri and driven them off planet, there’s no need for ammunition, certainly not in wartime quantities.”
Jones turned back to Wickes. “So, if that is the case, what do we do, Captain?”
Wickes stood up and walked to the center of the cellar. He had a pronounced limp, the result of age and more than one beating by UNGov goons. He moved slowly but steadily, and he turned around and looked at each of his comrades in turn. “We can’t know, Carson…and I don’t know if we should try to find out. Sending people like Devon to try and spy more aggressively is extremely dangerous. Whatever is going on, it won’t be easy data to reach.”
The old man turned slowly as he spoke, his eyes panning over each of the revolutionaries sitting around him. “Sometimes we must make decisions with less information than we might want…we must rely on gut instinct. And my gut tells me it is time to make our move.”
He stopped and faced Jones. “Give the word, Carson. Contact the other cells. If they agree, then we go.” He slapped a fist down in his palm. “By God, yes…we shall strike. And after forty years of crawling in the dirt we will strike a blow for our freedom.
He appeared more energetic than he had just minutes before, as though the promise of action rejuvenated him. He walked over and took Jones’ hand, pulling him up from his seat. Then Bell…and the others one at a time. “Stand with me my friends, my comrades, and remember, we are brothers in arms.”
“Yes, Captain,” Jones said, his own voice feeding off the older man’s enthusiasm. “We are all brothers in arms.” He looked at Wickes, his eyes settling on the small pocket on the old man’s tattered jacket, and the black letters printed there, barely visible after so many years. USMC.
* * *
“Nine hundred on Juno, thirty-four hundred on Alantris, just under two thousand on Helios…” Anton Samovich stared down at the tablet, his finger scrolling slowly as he read the figures. He’d known the approximate numbers, of course, but these were the results of the census he’d ordered, and they were exact.
They’d better be exact…
“So, just over twenty thousand total on the worlds Taylor’s army have marched through.”
“Yes, Secretary-General. Our best estimate of those killed in action on these worlds is 29,500, excluding of course, the Black Corps, which was completely wiped out, the last 4,000 apparently by their own…”
“Yes,” Samovich snapped back at the aide. “I am well aware of the fate of the Black Corps.” His face darkened. He’d thought that plan had been foolproof, an army far larger than Taylor’s, with the same cybernetic enhancements…and conditioned to obey orders no matter what. But Taylors’ army had fought them like banshees, inflicting at least a 3-1 ratio of casualties. Still, it wasn’t the military loss that most troubled Samovich. Somehow, the Black Corps, or Taylor’s people, had discovered the conditioning…and the blasted soldiers who had survived the fighting killed themselves so they couldn’t be ordered to fight against their will. Samovich was used to dealing with compliant citizens, easily cowed with threats and empty promises. The thought of people strong enough, defiant enough, to choose defiance and death over government control was unsettling to say the least.
“So, there are twenty-thousand soldiers on these worlds who survived the fighting with Taylor, but chose not to join him.”
“That is correct, Secretary-General. Twenty thousand, four hundred sixteen to be exact. As per orders, we have ceased shipments of weapons and ammunition, but we continue to supply food and other basic sustenance. We have received multiple requests for authorization to transit back to Earth now that hostilities have ceased on the subject worlds, and we have responded in all cases with orders to stand by and assume defensive positions in case the Tegeri return.”
Samovich sat unmoving, his mind deep in thought. Twenty-thousand veterans…they would be enormously valuable in supplementing the raw recruits and hastily-reassigned internal security units he had available to face Taylor’s army if it came. When it came…Samovich had no doubt that the rebel leader would return to Earth, with a goal no less audacious than destroying UNGov outright. Dealing with a true zealot with large forces behind him was something new to Samovich, and UNGov overall. His security forces had done an excellent job of seeking out and terminating potential extremists among the population, preventing any from achieving dangerous levels of power. But now he faced a true revolutionary leader, one with an army behind him…the best, most experienced army in existence. All Samovich could do was wait…and see what Taylor did next. And prepare for the greatest test he had ever faced.
He thought of the troops stationed on the Portal worlds, idle, the Tegeri gone, Taylor’s forces long moved on. God, he needed those soldiers. The pragmatist in him wanted to recall them all, divide them up, use them to leaven his raw units. But the autocrat screamed back. No, they may not have joined Taylor, but they are still suspect. There were good reasons for UNGov’s policy against allowing veterans to return to Earth, and they applied doubly to forces that had en
countered Taylor and his army, soldiers who knew thousands of their former comrades marched with Taylor. No, he couldn’t take the risk, couldn’t allow his forces to be infiltrated by thousands of men who could be rebel sympathizers.
He stared down at his desk for a moment, an idea beginning to form, a very dark one. Yes, he thought, of course. I can’t take the risk of bringing those men home, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be useful, very useful indeed.
“Get me Alexi Drogov…immediately. I have a very important mission for him.”
Chapter 4
From the Writings of T’arza, Elder of House Setai:
The humans’ great tragedy is almost upon them. Taylor has rallied many of his people to his banner, and his army stands now on the brink of returning to their homeworld, to fight the final battle with the masters who rule mankind. Though I cherish peace above all things, the warrior blood of my ancestors burns hot now, calling to me the battle, to stand at my friend’s side during his great test. But alas, I cannot. As a Tegeri, I would only damage Taylor’s cause, fuel his enemy’s propaganda. To the vast majority of his people, I am a bloodthirsty murderer, a monster from an alien world, come to bring death and destruction to humanity. It is a lie, of course, a vicious fabrication, but the truth can only spread with Taylor’s victory, and there is little I can do to influence that. All that could be done has been. We have supplied his forces, though we have provided them only weaponry at or near their technology level, nothing that would appear out of place, or fuel suspicions of my peoples’ involvement.
The war with the humans is over, at least for the Tegeri. We have pulled back from every contested Portal world, withdrawn all of our forces from any point of contact. This action was not without risk, as it opens the way for the human forces to advance ever farther into the Portal network, even to threaten Homeworld itself. But this danger is not the worst we face, nor is Taylor’s advance the only reason for our withdrawal. For the Darkness, the enemy spoken of in the texts left behind by the Ancients, is again coming, and it brings death and destruction in its wake. It is the true enemy, the foe the humans and Tegeri were meant to face together, save for the terrible historical tragedy that forced us to war with the beings we should call brothers.
We withdrew our armies from their blood-soaked battlefields, taking advantage of the confusion caused by Taylor’s rebellion, but for the New Ones and Tegeri who fought on those worlds there will be little rest, little peace. For they must prepare to face the Darkness, and somehow defeat the great evil that long ago destroyed the Ancients, the wise and mighty race that built the Portals so long ago.
The fate of the humans lies in Taylor’s hands, as does our ultimate victory or defeat against the Darkness. For if he fails, we will have no choice but to destroy Earth, lest we face enemies on two fronts and fall, as the Ancients did ages ago. And yet, even the monstrous crime of destroying our own human brethren is unlikely to save us. The Ancients foretold that our two races together could stand where they had fallen and defeat the great enemy. But alone my people have little chance. What power have we ourselves to face that which destroyed our forefathers, the Ancients, beings who strode across the stars almost as gods?
Indeed, it is not only the fate of his own people that lies in Taylor’s hands…it is ours as well, and that of all the Other Races the Ancients planted, our young brethren only now grasping weakly toward civilization. To them we are the elders, and even as our race wanes and slips away, we are all that stands between them and utter doom. If we are to be destroyed, so then so shall they be. And in all the galaxy there shall be naught but silence and death.
“The troop withdrawals will be complete in five more cycles of the sun. By the next solar phase, all forces previously deployed against the humans will be massed on Alantria, awaiting orders to move to the frontier and deploy against the Darkness. The forces withdrawn from the struggles on the Portal worlds have been reequipped with high tech weaponry. Combined with the newest reserves, there are over two million New Ones now under arms, awaiting the command to depart.” T’arza spoke softly, but his voice carried solemn authority. He was the elder of a great house, a member of the Council…and the Tegeri elder selected as liaison with the Chosen, the human selected by the Council to lead the rebellion against the Earth government. The Council had long debated how to end the war with the humans, to obtain peace and reunite with their brother race and prepare to face the Darkness. It was T’arza of the Setai who suggested they seek out a single contact, a human with the strength of character and intelligence to lead a rebellion.
Since the day T’arza approached Jake Taylor on the world Taylor’s people called Erastus, he had spent much of his time among humans, and he was now the Tegeri who best knew his peoples’ enigmatic brother race. He had been a Tegeri of noble rank, and the patriarch of his house, but now T’arza was the most important member of his race and, in many ways, he carried on his shoulders the fate not only of the Tegeri, but of all the legacy of the Ancients.
“And,” T’arza continued, “on Ghasara, Taylor and his soldiers stand beside the Portal leading back to Earth. The final campaign to liberate the humans homeworld is about to begin.”
“We thank you for your words, T’arza, and for your tireless efforts. Your wisdom and dedication are an example for all.” The First of the Council spoke slowly, gravely. He was ancient, even by the long-lived standards of the Tegeri, and he was frail and weak. Still, he rose slowly, clearly with tremendous effort, and he looked down the great council table. “I rise, T’arza of the Setai, in tribute to you, and I bid all of the Council to follow me. You have acquitted yourself with the honor and wisdom we have all come to expect from you. What hope we have, it flows from your work. I now name you Oritai, honored of your people. Henceforth, you shall wear the white robe, that all who see you might know of your deeds.”
The others had risen at the behest of the First, and now they gazed upon T’arza, and as one they slapped their hands on the table, signaling their agreement by acclamation.
T’arza nodded somberly. He was not one to seek praise and, in truth, though he appreciated the One’s words, the attention being lavished upon him made him uncomfortable. But the designation as Oritai was one of his peoples’ greatest honors, one he knew he must accept with grace and humility.
“I thank you all for that that you have given me this day. You humble me, my brethren. I can answer only with my most solemn promise that I shall continue to do what must be done, whatever that may be.”
The Tegeri nobles continued pounding on the table for another moment. Then the First sat down, followed by the others. When all had taken their seats, T’arza then sat, as custom demanded. Then he spoke, “Again, my thanks to you, First, and to all of you.” A short pause. “But now I propose we return to the business at hand. We have much to discuss, much to decide.”
“You speak truth, T’arza. Where would you have us begin?” The First looked at T’arza with hazy, clouded eyes.
“I would look first to Taylor. I would have us consider one final time if there is any way we can support his cause, any effort we have not made?”
“I believe we have done all for Taylor and his people that we can.” C’tar spoke from the far end of the table, his ancient voice still strong as he spoke from the far end of the table. The Grandmaster of the Seminary was the oldest of his race, and his wisdom was respected and heeded by all Tegeri. He had been the first to speak out, to declare that if Taylor’s quest failed, the Tegeri would have to destroy the humans. And he had backed T’arza when the leader of House Setai proposed launching an attack on Oceania to interdict the human supply lines when Taylor’s forces were heavily engaged on Juno. Indeed, the respite that action created had been key to Taylor’s victory, and the Tegeri intervention had not been connected to the human dispute.
“We have provided weapons and ammunition, all copied from their own technology, with what enhancements we could make. We have also supplied shelters, food, me
dicines. Indeed, we have risked as much as we dare, for even what we have given Taylor is beyond anything his people could have provided for themselves. Our support is clear, though not in an obvious way that would feed the Earth government’s propaganda efforts. Were we to go any further, for example to supply weapons clearly beyond Earth technology, it is likely we would do more harm than good to Taylor. However well supplied he may be, he must win the hearts and support of a large number of his people. Were we to allow the Earth government any proof of our involvement, we would give them the tools to turn all mankind against Taylor. We cannot take such a chance.”
C’tar turned toward T’arza. “You know this, Oritai, master of the Setai, yet your concern for Taylor keeps you from true acceptance. It does you credit, yet now you must allow your friend to play his role in this great drama…and trust to his abilities. And it is time for us to turn our full attention to the approaching Darkness, before it is too late.”
T’arza paused, returning the Grandmaster’s gaze. Finally, he simply nodded and said, “You speak truth, wise C’tar, as always.” He paused briefly, turning to look down the table at his fellow Council members. “We have done all we can for Taylor. His path is now his own. C’tar speaks wisdom. We must look to our preparations against the Darkness, prepare for the great struggle to come.”
He hesitated again, his gaze dropping to the table. Finally, he looked up again and said, “And we must place our faith in Taylor, trust in his resolve and his abilities. We must believe he will free mankind…and that he will lead them to our aid. Before it is too late.”
Chapter 5
From Jake Taylor’s Address to the Army of Liberation:
Soldiers! Men of the Army of Liberation! We have come far. Some of you have marched with me from the beginning, others have joined us along the way. But none of that matters now. For now we stand on the brink of our final struggle. It is time to liberate our homeworld, time to erase the terrible stain the horror of UNGov has left on human history. And in this battle to come we are all brothers, comrades in arms…no longer men of Force Erastus or Force Juno or Force Phillos. We are the Army of Liberation, each of us sworn to do whatever must be done to destroy the great evil that rules Earth.