Insurrection (The Kurgan War Book 6)

by Richard Turner

  The women did as they were told. While one man covered them, another scanned their retinas with a small handheld machine.

  “It’s them,” pronounced the man with the scanner.

  “This way please,” said a sergeant.

  They followed the soldier up into the shuttle craft. The interior was bathed in red light.

  “The colonel is waiting for you in the cockpit,” said the sergeant.

  Tarina and Wendy thanked the soldier and walked toward a closed door at the front of the ship. Just before they arrived, the door slid open and Colonel Wright stepped out to greet them.

  “Evening ladies,” said Wright, smiling.

  Tarina said, “Evening, Colonel. It’s good to see you again.”

  “That goes for me too,” added Wendy.

  “I bet you two didn’t expect to ever see me back on my feet,” said Wright.

  “To be honest, sir, I thought you’d still be laid up in a hospital,” said Tarina. “A spinal injury is a tricky thing to bounce back from.”

  “I hear you. The surgeons used the latest in experimental nanotechnology to repair the damaged parts of my spine. I’ll never do gymnastics again. But I can walk, albeit slowly, and that suits me just fine. I wasn’t planning on running a marathon anytime soon.”

  “Sir, how on earth did you manage to make your way undetected past the Kurgan fleet?” asked Wendy.

  “That’s easy to answer,” replied Wright. “They let me.”

  Tarina and Wendy exchanged a puzzled look.

  “I beg your pardon, sir,” said Tarina, shaking her head.

  “Normal lighting, please,” ordered Wright. The red lights switched off, and white light filled the interior of the ship. “My Special Forces escorts are still a little leery about the recent developments with the Kurgan Empire.”

  Tarina’s head began to swim. “What developments would those be, sir?”

  “Let’s take a seat and I’ll fill you in on what’s been happening between us and the Kurgans,” said Wright.

  They all sat down on a couple of cargo boxes strapped to the floor of the shuttle.

  Wright ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Okay, where do I begin? How long have you been here on Kandara-Minor?”

  “Nearly three and a half months,” said Wendy.

  “I’ve only been back with the squadron for less than a month, and most of what has transpired took place in the last three weeks. First off, in less than forty-eight hours’ time, a ceasefire agreement will take effect between the Kurgans and us. Admiral Sheridan is currently in negotiations with his Kurgan counterpart to turn this into a lasting peace treaty.”

  Tarina sat back. Her mouth hung open. It was the first time she had heard of the war coming to a close.

  “I see by the look on your face that this is all a great big surprise to you,” said Wright.

  Tarina nodded.

  “I’m not surprised. Neither side has announced anything formally. However, both fleets have backed away from one another, and all hostilities have ceased. Once they work out all the details for a formal peace treaty then, and only then, will both sides make this public.”

  “What happened to make the Kurgans ask for a ceasefire?” asked Wendy.

  “Two things,” said Wright. “First off, our offensive into Kurgan space really knocked them on their heels. When we occupied several of their key energy producing planets, they were forced to make a series of rash attacks to try and get them back. All of the attempts to retake the planets ended in bloody failure. Tens of thousands of Kurgans died for nothing. Secondly, they don’t have the resources to fight us and the insurrection spreading like wildfire throughout their empire.”

  “How far has the rebellion spread?” asked Tarina.

  “It’s everywhere. There isn’t a star system in the empire that isn’t facing the prospect of civil war.”

  “Wow, that was fast,” remarked Wendy.

  “It has been slowly brewing for years,” said Wright. “Komada was the spark that ignited the fire. His call to war has spread throughout the Kurgan Empire. So far the Kurgan military hasn’t split into two factions, but that day can’t be too far away. That is the reason why I am here. Admiral Sheridan has ordered all Terran forces operating in Kurgan space to be withdrawn immediately. I’m here to pick all of you up and take you back to the fleet.”

  “Colonel, I’m all for leaving, but I’m afraid that there’s no way to get in touch with our people,” said Tarina.

  “Why not?”

  “The Kurgans have placed an electronic comms jamming bubble over the capital. Our comms devices are far too weak to penetrate the bubble and reach anyone still in the city. The Kurgs have been dropping a steady stream of troops and equipment from orbit for the past twelve hours. It’s only a matter of time before they launch a massive assault on the capital to try to take it back from the insurgents. Major Sheridan and First Sergeant Cole are still in the capital. Only the SF training teams are on their way back to this location. I expect them to start arriving in the next six to eight hours.”

  “Damn! That’s not good. I don’t think the fleet was aware of this, or I would have been briefed about it before coming here.”

  “Sir, the last time we spoke with anyone from the fleet was almost a three weeks ago. A lot has gone on here since then.”

  “I’d best speak with the Kurgan liaison officer who arranged my safe passage through Kurgan space before they commence their attack. Do you know where they will be in the capital?”

  Tarina shook her head. “No, sir, I don’t. The last time I spoke with Major Sheridan was just before the Kurgans commenced jamming our signal. At that time, he said he was going to speak with Komada. They could be anywhere in the city right now.”

  Wright tapped his foot on the floor for a few seconds. “There’s no point sitting around here anymore. Grab your gear and come aboard. I’ll have fleet dispatch a troop transporter to pick up the SF teams. We’ve got to get our people out of harm’s way. I’d hate to see the fragile peace talks derailed over this.”

  “Right, sir,” said Tarina, wondering where Michael Sheridan was and if he was still safe.

  Chapter 8

  “From all the reports coming in it looks like the Kurgan Army isn’t going to conduct a formal siege, they’re going to try to take the city by a coup de main,” said Michael Sheridan as he looked at a map spread out on a dusty table. He was standing in the insurgent command center deep inside the basement of a former Kurgan government building.

  Alan Cole ran a hand over the stubble on his chin, picked up one of the reports, and read it over. “They can’t be serious. An attack using three mechanized and one armored brigade into these narrow streets is suicide.”

  “Against us it would be. But against these rebels, it might just work. Speed and shock action if used properly can be devastating.”

  Cole took a seat. “Over the past two months, our side has armed these insurgents to the teeth with anti-tank weapons and mines. Let’s not forget that they’re fairly well established in strongpoints spread throughout the city. I don’t care who’s attacking. This isn’t going to be a cakewalk.”

  “They could give the Kurgan Army a bloody nose, but only if their morale holds, and we’ve seen how brittle that can be. Ambushes and firefights with overwhelming numbers against isolated platoon-sized posts is one thing. Going toe-to-toe with a Kurgan mechanized division is another.”

  “I take it this was the Kurgs plan all along. Empty the capital of military forces and use it as bait for the insurgents. Kind of devious of them. Instead of chasing the rebels all over the countryside, they’ve got them all in one place where they can be destroyed.”

  “Yeah, along with us.”

  Cole lowered his voice. “I take it you regret not leaving when the SF teams did?”

  “I do, but we had to stay, or Komada would have become suspicious and made it difficult, if not impossible, for any of us to leave.”

  “So
, what’s our escape route?”

  Sheridan pointed at the floor beneath his feet. “We’ll use the sewer system to make our way out of the city. I was at city hall yesterday. I’ve got a copy of the entire system loaded up into my watch.”

  “I’d rather not go crawling about in the muck, but if it’ll save our skins, I’m all for it.”

  “The only silver lining I can see on an otherwise dreary day is that the SF teams got away without incident. They should all be back to Tarina’s location in the next few hours.”

  “Lucky bastards.”

  “Who’s a lucky bastard?” asked Komada as he walked into the room. He had let his black hair grow long and wore his usual attire of a holy man’s crimson robes.

  “My, you’ve got good ears,” said Cole. “I was telling Michael that anyone not in the city when the Kurgs attack is a lucky bastard.”

  “Only those who want to stay are still with us,” said Komada. “Everyone else has left.”

  “Yeah, like I said . . . lucky bastards.”

  Sheridan knew that to be a lie. Komada had made sure that there were still a fair number of civilians in the capital. Should they be killed in the coming fight, their deaths could be exploited to further fan the flames of hatred brewing between the two sides of the growing religious schism. He had argued with Komada until he was blue in the face against keeping anyone in the city, but Komada had dismissed his concerns and carried on as if he knew better. The rift that had developed between the two men and was growing wider by the day. Sheridan couldn’t wait to leave the planet and the Kurgans to their civil war.

  “So do you believe your fighters are ready to take on a mechanized division?” Sheridan asked Komada.

  “Yes, I believe so,” he replied. “They know their jobs and what is expected of them. There is nothing more I can do to help them. It’s all in the Lord’s hands now.”

  “You do realize that you have at best three thousand followers under your command, of which only a handful have any combat experience. In less than an hour, a Kurgan division of twenty-two thousand soldiers will try to storm this city. I hope you are prepared to needlessly lose the bulk of your forces.”

  Komada stepped close. “Major Sheridan, I know you don’t like me or approve of my methods, but you cannot deny that they get results. All throughout the empire, loyalists have bravely taken up the sword of righteousness against the heretics. What we are about to do here today will resonate throughout the empire for a millennia.”

  “Yeah, remember the Alamo?” said Cole.

  “Joke if you will, Mister Cole, but your obscure reference to a battle in Earth’s history is not lost on me,” replied Komada. “If we are massacred, our example that we died on our two feet rather than be forced to live on our knees will rally more planets to our cause.”

  “Don’t you mean your cause,” corrected Sheridan. He looked into Komada’s cold, dark eyes and felt a shudder of revulsion roll down his back. Sheridan regretted ever thinking he could have trusted the man. A second later, the ground shook as a barrage of heavy artillery shells fell on the city center.

  “Looks like they’ve kicked off the match a bit sooner than anticipated,” said Cole as dust fell like snow from the roof of the basement.

  Komada turned to leave but stopped in mid-stride. “Michael, I just learned that you sent your Special Forces advisors out of the city without telling me.”

  “That’s correct,” replied Sheridan. “They weren’t needed anymore, so I sent them to link up with Tarina in the mountains outside of the capital.”

  “You still should have told me first.”

  “There wasn’t time. Besides, they work for me, not you.”

  Komada raised a hand in the air. “I seem to recall the last time my people felt they were being abandoned, they panicked and a rout ensued.”

  The horrible images of the Chosen soldiers from Ghost Company being torn to shreds by bio-mechanically engineered monsters still haunted Sheridan’s dreams. “If I remember right, you blamed that misfortune on your own hubris.”

  Komada shrugged. “I may have. I really don’t remember what was said after that sad debacle. Michael, I hope you weren’t planning on leaving my side anytime soon.”

  Sheridan didn’t like what he heard in Komada’s voice. “Now why would you say that?”

  “Because I think it would be bad for morale and besides, an hour ago I gave the order to mine the sewers to prevent the army from using them to infiltrate into the city.”

  Sheridan feigned a smile. “I see we’ve trained you well.”

  “That you have,” replied Komada, walking away.

  “I really do despise that S.O.B.,” muttered Cole.

  “I guess we had best find a new way out,” said Sheridan, looking over at the map.

  Cole’s watch unexpectedly beeped twice. With the Kurgans blocking all electronic signals from getting in or out of the capital, his watch should have remained silent. He looked down and saw a message from Wendy. Cole quickly read it over and grinned. “Oy, boss, you’re not going to believe this.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I just got a message from Red. She says the Kurgs are going to allow one of our ships to enter the restricted airspace above the city to pick us up.”

  Sheridan grew suspicious. “Are you sure it’s her and not the Kurgs trying to lure us out into the open so they can target us?”

  “I’m positive,” replied Cole. “I doubt the Kurgans would know enough to insult me in the message like only Red can do.”

  “Something seems off. Why are the Kurgans helping us get out of the city?”

  “Beats me. Right now, I don’t care either. Komada’s plotting something, and whatever it is it probably won’t end well for us. I say we get the hell out of here while we still can.”

  Sheridan nodded. “Okay then, if they try and land anywhere in the city streets, Komada’s people will undoubtedly panic and open fire on them.”

  “What do you want me to tell her?”

  Sheridan grabbed a map of the downtown core and spread it out on the table. He studied it for a moment before saying, “Tell Wendy to land on top of the Kurgan’s capital building. It’s higher than all of the other buildings near it, so they shouldn’t have a problem finding it.”

  “Boss, that’s six blocks away, and it’s one of Komada’s pre-designated strongpoints.”

  “I know. It can’t be helped. With my good looks and your gruff charm, we should be able to bluff our way up onto the roof.”

  “If you say so.” Cole hurried to pass the message.

  Sheridan reached for his rifle and made sure its one-hundred-round caseless ammunition magazine was firmly in place before switching it on. The noise from the Kurgan bombardment increased as they flung everything they could muster at the city. It sounded like a giant was right above their heads trying to pound his way through the concrete.

  “Message passed,” said Cole. “The Kurgans have given them a narrow air corridor to use, but it’s only for a limited time, so I told her not to approach the city until we were nearly on the roof.”

  “Good thinking,” said Sheridan.

  “I know,” replied Cole, winking at his friend.

  Sheridan shook his head. “If the Kurgs follow their own tactical doctrine for rapid assaults, the artillery barrage should lift in a couple of minutes, and the ground attack will begin. I’m not worried about the mechanized forces trying to bulldoze their way into the city; it’s the flocks of armed drones which will be flying over the capital looking for targets of opportunity that worry me.”

  “Komada’s men have some rocket launchers with them, so they should be able to take out some of the drones.”

  “Yeah, but it’ll never be enough.”

  Cole flipped open a hardened case on the floor and rummaged through it. He jammed his pockets full of ammunition and grenades until he couldn’t fit anymore into his clothes. “Here,” said Cole, tossing Sheridan a bandolier of grenades. “You
may need these.”

  “Let’s hope not,” replied Sheridan, sliding the bandolier over his shoulder.

  “Come on, sir, be honest. When haven’t we needed more than we could carry?”

  “Never, I guess.”

  The pounding from the guns began to fade away.

  Sheridan and Cole looked at one another. No words needed to be exchanged. Both men knew they would never leave the other behind. Their friendship went far beyond that of ordinary men. With Sheridan in the lead, they climbed the stairs leading up from the basement to the first floor. Dust and smoke filled the air. It was hard to breathe. As they got closer, they began to see the effects of the artillery bombardment. Several badly wounded men sat on the stairs holding bloody bandages to their injuries. Kurgans didn’t believe in training soldiers as front-line medics. It was the Lord’s will that warriors try and make it to an aid station on their own. With the nearest hospital over five blocks away, Sheridan knew these men were going to bleed out and die before they ever made it for help.

  Cole tapped Sheridan on the shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking, Major. Forget ‘em. We don’t have time to help them or anyone else we come across today.”

  Sheridan nodded and walked past the injured rebels. He made his way out onto the first floor of the building and stopped in his tracks. An artillery shell had struck just outside of the main doors, blowing them inward. Glass, debris, and three mangled corpses littered the floor. On the street, several civilian vehicles burned, sending a cloud of thick, black smoke skyward. The scene of carnage reminded Sheridan of the first time he and Cole had fought together on Derra-5.

  “If there’s a drone out there, we can use the heat and smoke coming from the vehicles to mask our movement,” suggested Cole.

  Sheridan dashed to the demolished entrance, dropped to one knee, and looked up. The sky, as far as he could tell, was clear of UAVs. Sheridan got up and pointed at an open door on the opposite side of the street. Cole saw what he was looking at and nodded. Together they sprinted across the street.

  Just before they entered the building, a burst of automatic gunfire struck the ground at their feet, sending chips of concrete into the air. Both men ignored the fire and kept going until they were inside the store.