The Ten Thousand: Portal Wars II

by Jay Allan

  Now they were back in the trenches they themselves had taken just a few days before. The fortifications were strong, but the field of fire was short, only a few hundred meters from the reverse slope. Still, his people had repulsed two attacks already, though they had suffered heavy losses and burned through most of their ammo to do it. The third assault was coming, and he didn’t see how his men could hold out again.

  He only had 15 troopers left, and half of them were walking wounded. He’d taken a round to the shoulder himself, though the nanos had already started to repair the damage. He knew his troopers would fight to the last, but there was another problem. Supplies. He was down to 3 clips himself and, even after stripping the dead, most of his men only had enough to maintain a few minutes of fire. He had them all on semi-auto now, firing small, targeted bursts. But even at that rate of fire, they would be down to survival knives and rifle butts before long.

  He was just about to tell his men to cease fire until the enemy charge got closer in, when his com crackled to life and Major Samuels’ voice filled his helmet. “All forces are to withdraw from the trenchline at once and pull back to rally point A. Repeat, all forces are to evacuate the trenchline immediately and rally at point A.” Samuels’s voice was raw, hollow. “Withdraw by odds and evens, 300 meter intervals.”

  Singh exhaled hard. He’d been prepared to die in the trench, fighting with the last of his strength and ammo. But now there was a chance his people would live to take the field another day. He felt relief, and a knot of tension in his gut. They still had to successfully break off and get back to the rally point.

  Rally point A, he thought…almost back where we started. Every meter of ground we fought and bled for, lost. He felt a wave of frustration, depression. So many lives lost for nothing. But there wasn’t time for that, not now. His only priority was getting his survivors disengaged and back to temporary safety.

  “Platoon, prepare to withdraw. Evens, covering fire – commence now.” He heard the sounds of massed rifles, not only from his own troopers, but all along the line as half the force covered the retreat of the others. “Odds, withdraw 300 meters…now.” He turned and added his fire to that of the 7 other men remaining in his section of line. The taste of defeat was bitter, and Singh vowed to stand and fight as long as he could. He was the last man to leave the trench.

  Chapter 11

  From the Tegeri Chronicles:

  Long we have known of the humans, and it is written that they are the other children of the Ancients, our brother race, destined to share the Portals with us and explore the universe at our sides. But they are different from us as well as similar, and in this lies their peril…and ours. For where Tegeri seek individualism and freedom for personal reflection and the pursuit of intellectual growth, most humans crave, above all things, each other’s acceptance. They are quick to subvert their own judgment and morality to those who would lead them, to recklessly surrender their most basic freedoms. We came to know of this strange susceptibility firsthand when we visited their world centuries ago.

  Gods they came to call us, though we had gone to them as brothers and counsellors only, to guide them as they built their civilization, to hasten the day when they could join us and explore the Portals. Blind we were for centuries to the effect we had upon them, for such is utterly alien to the Tegeri mind. When at last we saw what we had done, we left them, returned to our world to allow them to grow and mature and build their civilization free of our influence. Yet never did they change, for their history is written in the blood of the victims as they rallied to one evil, unworthy leader after another. We shall never know, perhaps, how much blame we bear for exacerbating this trait…how much responsibility we carry for the centuries of tyranny and oppression the humans have suffered.

  “Taylor has been opposed by human forces with the same enhanced capabilities his own soldiers possess.” There was concern in T’arza’s voice, and uncertainty. “I greatly fear he may be defeated before he reaches Earth.”

  The Council was assembled again in the Great Cavern, the ancient meeting place that had hosted such gatherings since the dawn of Tegeri civilization. The cavern was lit by hanging pots, filled with burning rocks, the red and yellow flames casting an eerie glow on the stone walls and dazzling crystal formations hanging from the ceiling far above.

  The First of the Council bowed his head slowly. “Indeed, T’arza, your concerns have great merit. Yet, I do not know what we can do to assist Taylor. His mission is far more expansive than simply reaching Earth. He must enlighten his people to the truth about their leaders. He may utilize force in this effort, yet he cannot ultimately succeed only by strength of arms. He must persuade millions of his kind, a task that would become impossible if he were seen as our tool. Our overt aid would serve Taylor’s enemies more surely than it would assist his forces.”

  T’arza bowed his head in acknowledgement of the First’s wisdom. “All you say is truth, Honored First. Yet, I must then ask, what next if Taylor fails, if his forces are destroyed on Juno and the Earth government is triumphant and entrenched in its power?”

  “Then, T’arza, we will have little choice.” The voice came from the end of the table, from one of the Tegeri who rarely spoke in conference and whose words were always heeded when he did. C’tar was the Grandmaster of the Seminary, the closest thing the Tegeri had to a religious leader. C’tar was old, nearly as ancient as the First One, and his life had been spent in study and meditation. “If Taylor fails, we will be compelled to destroy the humans.”

  There was stunned silence in the Cavern. Such a proclamation from the likes of C’tar was unprecedented. The Seminary was an institution dedicated to peaceful study and enlightenment. Genocide was the last thing any of the Council had expected C’tar to suggest.

  “C’tar, please enlighten.” The First was as surprised as the others, and he bade the Master of the Seminary to elaborate.

  “I speak harshly, for we are come to a time in our history where we must change who we are…or be destroyed without a trace.” The ancient Tegeri spoke slowly, his voice soft and hollow with age. “I speak not of personal destruction, nor the death of any on this Council. Nay, it is nothing so trivial that besets us. I warn instead of the extinction of our entire race, and of the many others that grow and move slowly toward sentience and civilization in the vastness of space. For the Darkness is returning, and there is naught but our strength to stand against it.” The room was silent, all eyes on C’tar.

  “Long ago we sought to educate the humans, yet they are different from us, and our efforts met with little success. Quick to follow and pledge their allegiance to those who are unworthy and slow to question what they are told, they proved too susceptible to our influences. They styled us as gods, sought our direction in all things. They worshipped us instead of embracing us as brothers, as teachers. We saw this, yet perhaps too late. We left their world centuries ago, when we became aware of the extent of their malleability, yet we may never know how much blame for their continued susceptibility accrues to us.”

  C’tar paused, drawing a deep, raspy breath. “For all of this, I suggest it matters not. For our own actions, we must bear the blame that accrues to us. Yet we have another obligation, a greater one, not only to our race, but to those that will follow us in the ages to come. We must turn back the Darkness or all light in the universe will be extinguished. For all time.”

  T’arza felt his spirit sink. He, like all of the elders on the Council, held C’tar’s wisdom above that of all others, even the First. The Grandmaster of the Seminary had spent the long centuries of his life pursuing knowledge for the sake of knowledge, wisdom for the sake of wisdom. He saw truth more clearly than any of the Tegeri…even when such true sight revealed naught but despair.

  “The Darkness destroyed the Ancients many ages past, and for all our knowledge and science, we are but children compared to our old mentors. Yet, we must rise to the fight and face the challenge that is coming. We may do so with
the humans at our side, as the Ancients intended, if providence so allows, or we may stand alone.” C’tar paused, for it was no easier for him to pronounce a call for genocide than for the others to hear it. “But we cannot stand against the Darkness while the humans also fight us. What chance we have to prevail in the coming struggle, small that it may be, would be lost utterly if we allow ourselves to be caught between two enemies.”

  The emotion was heavy in C’tar’s voice, and his gaunt face, gray in the flickering light of the firepots, betrayed his great age. “If we cannot win the humans to our side, if they persist in doing the bidding of their evil and despotic leaders, we must destroy them. To not do so would be to abandon any hope for the hundreds of young species to survive. That is too great a price to pay, even for our brother race.”

  The cavern was silent for long moments, each of the elders deep in thought, absorbing the words of C’tar. They all knew the Grandmaster was right, that his wisdom was true. But embracing such a reality was a nearly impossible task for the Tegeri.

  Finally, the First spoke. “C’tar is out most learned scholar, our wisest counsellor. His words have reached me, and I concur with his findings.” The First’s voice was grim, the regret thick around his words. “Though I feel a spear stabbing at my soul at the mere thought of such a crime, we would be all the more damned, our guilt that much greater, were we to allow the Darkness to consume the galaxy because we were too weak to do what had to be done.”

  The First looked out over the assembled Council, his once dazzling eyes clouded with age and watery with emotion. “I put forth to this Council the proposal that we accept C’tar’s words, that we resolve to do whatever we must, at whatever cost to our souls, to destroy the Darkness.”

  His head moved slowly, and he shared a long gaze with each of the elders present in turn. “Yet, I also believe we must do all that is possible to prevent such from coming to pass, that we take every action at our disposal to aid Taylor in his struggle, to provide whatever covert advice and assistance we may.” He turned his head, his eyes resting on T’arza. “T’arza, my treasured friend and honored member of the Council, I propose that you go to Juno to advise Taylor and to assist him in achieving his victory. I know not what your counsel may achieve to aid his cause, yet I feel we must try.”

  Before T’arza could respond, the First held his arms before him and continued, “Are there any others who would speak before this Council?” He paused, but the room remained silent.

  The First wore a grim expression. “Then we are resolved. T’arza will go to Juno to aid Taylor…with counsel only.” A long silence. “If such aid is unsuccessful, if Taylor and his people fail and are defeated by their enemies…” The First hesitated again, so difficult were the words he’d resolved to utter. “…if Taylor’s cause is lost then we have no choice. We will destroy the humans as a race.”

  The room was silent, every eye on the First as he spoke. After a long pause, he continued, “We find this action utterly repugnant. Our souls shall be scarred for all time if the blood of this brother-species should soil our hands. Yet, the obligation to stand against the Darkness, to hold back this blackest evil, is greater still and more sacred even than our kinship to the humans. Such we owe to those who came before us, the Ancients, wise and proud, who shepherded our race and left us the Portals. Such we owe to those who will come after us, the youngest children of the Ancients, still growing on their own worlds far away.”

  The First bowed his head. “Long have I lived, for I am the oldest of our people, and I would have gladly passed on to the Great Next before this fateful decision was forced upon us. Yet, such is unworthy of the First of our people, to seek to avoid responsibility and obligation. I do, therefore, what I must…and may the spirit of the Ancients have pity upon my soul.”

  He raised his head slowly, moving his gaze in turn to each of the elders standing around the great table. “It is therefore resolved that if Taylor’s forces are destroyed, we shall unleash our true might on the humans, that the Earth shall be consumed by the fires of the atom and of anti-matter. That the humans shall cease to exist, and naught will remain to testify that they ever lived, save for the charred and radioactive ruins of their world.”

  The First gripped the polished stone sitting on the table in front of him. He raised it, and three times he slammed it down, the loud crash echoing through the cavern. “Such is resolved by this Council.” He looked out over the table. “Are there any who oppose?”

  T’arza felt the words trying to escape his throat, but he remained silent. The thought of destroying the humans was more than he could be, but they would all die anyway if the Darkness prevailed. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, but T’arza, the 80th of his name and the master of his House, stood motionless and remained silent.

  Chapter 12

  From the Journal of Jake Taylor:

  I remember the first time I saw a field hospital. It was on Erastus, about a month after I arrived onplanet. There had just been a particularly nasty battle, and the place was packed, every cot full and more wounded waiting outside, lying on the ground in the blazing sun.

  The Machines had lured our forces into an attack that turned out to be a trap. We ended up surrounded on three sides, and we lost almost half our strength before we managed to extricate the survivors and pull back to our defensive line.

  I can still recall the scene, the doctors working frantically, trying to save the most critically injured men. The first thing I noticed was the brightness of the lights. They were simple lamps, strung overhead along the roof of the portable shelter. They weren’t quite as harsh as Erastus’ two blazing suns, but they were close. For some reason that stayed with me. Most of the indoor facilities on Erastus were dimly lit, but not that hospital.

  I always remembered that first impression and, when I rose in the ranks, I made sure to make time to visit the wounded. I went because the men in those beds deserved the respect and consideration, but there was another reason as well. A commander looks at maps and gives orders, but it is in the hospital, amid the cries and moans of broken men – and in the piles of bodies zipped up in nylon bags outside - that he gets the best reminder of what those commands and plans mean, what they will cost the soldiers asked to go into battle. The sight of broken and battered men, is a something every general should experience often…so you never forget the cost of your orders.

  “The last of Bear’s people have pulled back as ordered.” Black’s hoarse voice revealed his exhaustion. He hadn’t slept in at least three days, and it was beginning to show. “The enemy has reoccupied their original trenchline, but they haven’t advanced from there. They surprised Hank’s people, but Bear was warned and ready for them. They lost heavily retaking that position. Our best guess is around 2,000, maybe 2,500.”

  Taylor was nodding in agreement, though his expression was grim. “Any updated figures on our losses?”

  Black hesitated. He knew Taylor blamed himself for the repulse, and for the heavy casualties. He understood, to a point. Taylor was the commander of the army, and the final decision to send the troops in was always his. But Black also knew that this was war – and men died in war. Expecting every battle to be an easy victory, quick and low-cost, wasn’t realistic, not for any general.

  “Blackie…” – Taylor looked up and stared at his friend as he repeated his question – “…what’s the latest update?”

  Black sighed. “OK, Jake. It looks like Hank’s people lost about 62% killed and wounded.” He glanced down at the small tablet in his hand, though the NIS implanted in his brain gave him total recall of the figures. “That’s approximately 850 out of his total strength of 1406. About 400 of those were wounded lightly enough to return to duty within a week.” The Supersoldier mods had completely changed the nature of battlefield medicine. Even troopers with serious gunshot wounds could recover rapidly if they survived the first few hours. Men who would have spent months in the hospital could walk out in days or a week.r />
  “How many dead?” Taylor’s voice was soft, quiet.

  “As of last count, 363. The other 80 or so are critically wounded.” He knew that number would have been much higher without the nanotech. “Most of those are expected to recover, but they’ll be out of action for two weeks or more.”

  Taylor nodded. “And Bear’s command?”

  Black paused for a second. He knew Taylor was aware of the losses, and he wished his friend would stop punishing himself. “Lower than Daniels’. We’re still finalizing the numbers, but it looks like about 585 from a total strength of 1334.” He shot Taylor a quick glance then added, “They were closer in for evac, so it looks like we have a smaller percentage of KIA there too. Probably around 175.”

  “Thanks, Blackie.” Taylor tried to imagine what the casualties would have been if he’d sent regular troops instead of his enhanced units. He doubted any of them would have returned.

  Black opened his mouth, but Taylor knew what was coming, and he spoke first. “I know, Blackie. It’s war. But I should have been more cautious. When we couldn’t get any drones through…that should have told me we were facing something different.” Black looked like he was going to interject something, but Taylor spoke again before he had the chance. “But it doesn’t matter now. All that matters is what we do next.” He looked off in the direction of the enemy trenches, the battlefield his men had fought over for the last two days. “I want the crews assigned to fortification construction tripled immediately. They’re not taking us by surprise again.”