“The patrol that went past us will hit the point of our last fight in a few minutes,” Fox said quietly over the platoon net.
“Good point, sarge,” Gordon said. “Let’s get some space between us and there. Get ready to move.”
4th Platoon continued south, moving slowly, partly from caution and partly due to the wounded. They were not far from Louistown.
A tone sounded in Lieutenant Gordon’s ears. He glanced at his command screen and saw it was Lieutenant Jackson.
Gordon switched to 5th Platoon’s frequency. “Cobalt-Five, this is Cobalt-Four, over,” he said.
“This is Five,” Jackson responded. “Louistown is in Pythan hands. We’re on the south side of town, and I have a team returning from the west side. They say there is a large force over there. I think our best option is to move east.”
“Five, we are not far north of the town. I think you’re right about going east. We’ll move that way. The Pythans have a lot of patrols out, so be careful.”
“Will do, Four. We’ll stay in touch, out.”
Gordon switched back to the 4th Platoon net and told his troops they were moving east. “Speed is less important than staying undetected,” he said.
Gordon heard a tone over his headset. His command screen showed him it was PSG Fox on a private channel. “Gordon here.”
“LT, I assume we’re taking the seriously wounded with us?” Fox said.
“Yes. I thought about leaving them and hope the Pythans might care for them, but—“
“They might squeeze them for our location and unit strength,” Fox said.
“Yes. I wish there were better alternatives.”
“I feel the same, sir, but we have bad or worse to choose from. We’ll make do.”
The platoon moved east, stopping frequently to listen and rest. They had gone more than a kilometer before they encountered any more Pythan units.
“LT, this is Davis. We have a Pythan patrol moving toward us. I can’t tell how many yet.”
“Roger. Let me know when you have more information.”
“Will do, sir. Ah shit. It’s at least a company. A skirmish line, coming right at us.”
“Start moving back our way. Let’s see if we can skirt them to the north.”
“Roger that.”
Gordon ordered the platoon to move. He hoped their superior night vision range might allow them to avoid detection.
They moved quietly, but soon heard the sound of Pythan troops to the north.
“We’re going to move west and see if we can put some distance between us and the Pythans,” Gordon said.
Sounds to the west stopped them before they even started. They were effectively surrounded, with Pythan troops in the woods on three sides and an enemy held town on the other.
“We’re going to ground and hope the Pythans bypass us,” Gordon said. “First gap we can see, we move. Corporal Davis, Private Baker, can you make it to us?”
“Roger that, sir. We’re near you. Be there in thirty seconds.”
The platoon moved into a wide arroyo that ran down a slight incline to the northeast.
“Everyone stay quiet,” said the calm voice of Sergeant Fox. “We’ll be fine as long as nobody panics.”
Gordon looked to the east and saw the skirmish line moving toward them. He watched them and it looked as if the end of the line would pass to the south of his platoon.
Gordon’s headset sounded a tone. It was PSG Fox on a private channel. “Gordon here.”
“LT, I’m moving to the end of our line nearest the Pythans that are approaching us. Maybe it will keep the men a little more calm.”
“Good idea.”
The Pythan line came closer. Gordon looked back and forth from the line to the Pythan unit to the north, which had stopped just inside the range of Gordon’s night vision.
If the line gets by us, we’ll move east, he thought.
The end of the line came abreast of 4th Platoon, just ten meters away. It appeared they didn’t see Gordon’s unit. He looked north, when suddenly a Pythan 5mm weapon chattered a long burst, answered almost immediately by a Land Forces 7mm machine gun.
The quiet died in an outburst of weapons fire. At Fox’s end of the platoon’s position the fighting was nearly at contact distance as the Pythans closest to them charged aggressively only to be cut down by accurate and withering fire.
The Pythan force to the north opened fire as well, but it was blind fire at muzzle blasts and much of it went high over Gordon’s platoon and into the Pythan skirmish line. Gordon and those near him put fire on the northern unit, forcing them to pull back.
The Pythan fire slackened, then stopped. A series of whistle blasts cut the night air, followed by footfalls.
“They’re charging us!” Fox yelled. “Use grenades.”
Fox and a few soldiers near him hurled grenades at the oncoming Pythans. They crisscrossed the air with Pythan grenades arcing into 4th Platoon’s position.
A deafening clatter of grenade explosions ripped the woods with noise, announcing the storm of grenade fragments that clouded the air for a moment. Screams of pain, fear, and rage came next, then small arms fire as the Pythan line descended on 4th Platoon.
Gordon stood and led the men near him toward the Pythan charge. A flurry of weapons fire from the platoon tore into the Pythans. Gordon glanced to his left and saw PSG Fox on his knees firing a machine gun. He looked back to his front and fired round after round at the oncoming enemy. It won’t be enough, he thought just before he felt a stinging pain in his leg. He instinctively glanced down. He never saw the blow of a Pythan weapon strike him in the neck.
-(o)-
Gordon opened his eyes and saw it was daylight. His leg, neck, and head throbbed with pain. He was in a bed on his back. He turned his head and saw a tall metal link fence through the window.
“Ah, you are awake,” an accented voice said. “I am Doctor Vald.”
Gordon looked at the man, a Pythan. “I’m a prisoner of war then?”
“You were prisoners of war only as long as the war here was fought. It is over. The military commander declared this world secured early this morning. This is a Pythan world now. You must accept it.”
“If we are not prisoners, then what are we?”
“You are still prisoners, but not of war. You are prisoners of heresy. That grants you a period of time to come to grips with your new reality and adapt to the Pythan faith.”
Gordon’s face expressed his dismay. “How long is this period of time? What happens if we refuse to convert?”
“The time is determined using many factors. A person’s religion, gender, occupation, and personal makeup, all play a part. Christians, Zoroastrians, Muslims, Buddhists, Morfucists, and the like require more time I am told. Another factor is the aspect of the man who oversees the conversion process. Followers of certain aspects are more patient than others.
“What about atheists and agnostics?”
“They are generally easier to convert. One who has no faith need only be filled. One who is already filled with a false faith must be emptied first.”
“Aspects? Are they gods? I understand you worship many gods.”
“Many gods, one faith. Many gods, all aspects of Pyth. Pyth over all. You will learn,” he said with a smile. “Rest now.”
“What about my men?” Gordon asked. “What happened?”
“I am told you fought very well. You fought bravely and did not surrender as so many of your compatriots did. That is a credit to you and your men. Some Pythans may hate you for causing so much damage, but that will likely pass.”
“My men, what of them?” Gordon asked with an edge in his voice.
“The survivors were all wounded and are receiving treatment.”
“Who survived, doctor?”
Vald looked at a data device. “Fox, Harris, Davis, Baker, Lawson, and Hernandez. The rest either perished during the fighting or were beyond our ability to help.”
“Hernandez made it? I
am surprised.”
“Khygon’s mercy was present I suspect.”
“I don’t understand.”
Vald smiled. “No doubt. You will though. You are Pythan now. Acceptance of that fact is the first step on the path of conversion. Rest now, you have plenty of time to learn.”
-(o)-
Interlude
Just as many Land Forces units found themselves cut off and trapped in the wake of the rapid advance by the Pythans, so too were many Space Forces units.
In the smaller, less populated systems, it was rare to see the large Space Forces Dragoon and Cuirassier missile carrier vehicles. They tended to stay in the large and heavily populated central systems or the areas near the Bryce system where the single navigation lane from Pythan space terminated.
In the lesser-populated systems and around colony worlds, the Lancer class vehicles were far more common. They, along with the smaller Chasseur class vehicles performed patrol, security, customs, duty, provost marshal, and the myriad other functions and duties required in the so-called backwater and frontier systems.
The Space Forces officers that commanded, and the crews that served aboard, these smaller vehicles prided themselves for being adaptable, versatile, and able to take on any challenge.
The commander and crew of the CFSSF Buford LPM-54 would need all of that adaptability and versatility if they were to survive. Cutoff and trapped near the Pythan occupied system of Hector, the Buford was facing long odds, but odds were of little concern to the Buford’s commander, Major Buck White, who followed a very simple philosophy: when challenges arise, attack.
. . .
Blind Side
“Major, need you on the headset,” First Sergeant Miko Clute said from a console a few steps across the command deck.
That was the last statement Major Buck White heard before he discovered the Coalition of Free Systems was at war with the Pythan Tridentate.
-(o)-
Major Buck White, known as Blindside Buck in his college days, led the league in quarterback sacks and tackles for loss of meters his last two seasons, and it was no coincidence his team was collegiate champion those same two years. “He is mayhem unleashed when he breaks free into an offensive backfield,” one scout wrote. Drafted high in the first round by the pros, he turned down what might have been a lucrative life in football for a career in Space Forces and never looked back.
Lancers, that’s what he wanted coming out of training, and that’s where he went, rising from Second Lieutenant to Major in a shade over a decade. Not a meteoric rise, but not bad for a thickheaded jock.
It had been a year and a half since he took command of the Buford, officially the CFSSF Buford LPM-54, a missile armed patrol lancer, and just as he pursued opposing players on the gridiron with dogged determination, so he pursued his duties as the commander of a patrol vehicle.
-(o)-
“Pythan attack, sir. We have a commo burst from the Winslow. Message torp dropped out of the navigation lane and started squawking,” 1SG Clute said.
“Damn it,” White muttered as he donned a headset.
“—got word via civilian vehicle from Hector system that unknown force had attacked there and was en route via nav lane to Jasbar. We had enough time to position ourselves before the Pythan Force arrived. Four vehicles. Largest vehicle was approximately analogous to one of our older dragoon class vehicles. We fired on it and scored hits, but we were seriously out-gunned. We’re done. It’s all over but the dying.
“They haven’t finished us off yet, maybe they don’t care about us. That might change when we launch the message torp.
“The damaged Pythan vehicle is on station over Hava with no evidence of orbital bombardment or landing occurring.
“All other Pythan vehicles left via nav lane, returning to Hector. I suspect the Pythan vehicle still in system was not supposed to be the monitor. They left two small patrol craft, smaller than our Chasseur vehicles. The civilian supply vehicle that arrived four days ago is still docked on the orbital station and it isn’t going anywhere until the Pythans are gone, and with the Hector system occupied, I don’t know where they’d go.
“Little else to report. Will send again if possible. Good luck Buford. This is Lieutenant Hobson, commo section, Chasseur Winslow, signing off.”
White bit his upper lip unconsciously while in thought. “What’s the time on that message, Miko?” he asked.
“A tick shy of eight hours old, sir.”
“What else did Hobson say?”
“Klaussen in commo tagged the call and alerted me, she heard the entire thing.”
White nodded and gestured for the first sergeant to follow him. The expectant and nervous faces of the crew followed them as they made their way to the communications bay, a small alcove on the port side of the cramped command deck.
“Sergeant Klaussen, what did the beginning of the message from Winslow tell us?” White asked.
“She can run playback, sir,” Second Lieutenant Alonzo, the commo section chief, said.
“I didn’t ask for playback,” White said with a hard glance at the young commo chief.
“Sir, he mentioned a previous message sent, but we haven’t received it,” Klaussen said. “He spoke about the initial attack on the Bryce system as if it was previously mentioned. I assume it was in the prior message.”
“Tell me what we know.”
“Space Forces units in Bryce picked up vehicles transiting out of the nav lane from Pythan space. The lead vehicles were massive, or so they thought, but they were asteroids with engines pushing them. The missile stations and vehicles wasted a lot of time and ordnance on them before they realized they’d been duped. The Pythans jumped a force into the system as well. A—”
“That’s damned risky,” the first sergeant said with a scowl. “There isn’t much room there, that’s why they chose it as the gateway.”
“You got that right, top,” Klaussen replied with a nod. “The Pythans lost half the vehicles that jumped in, most of them to hazards, not our guys killing them sorry to say.”
“Anything on the nav lane system status?” White asked.
“Not on Winslow’s message, but the nav gates are broadcasting that everything’s copacetic, major.”
Buck White nodded, then looked to First Sergeant Clute. “Top, tell Captain Jaeger to get us ready to push for the nav lane.”
“On it, sir,” Clute said as he turned and moved to relay White’s order to Buford’s second-in-command, commonly called a ‘number two’.
“Winslow sent scan and sensor data they gathered from the Pythan vehicles in Jasbar, sir,” 2LT Alonzo said.
“Good. Send copies to all sections for evaluation. Tell them I want reports when we reach the nav lane.”
-(o)-
“It looks damaged just as Winslow reported, based on the readings in the data… antimatter engines damaged, leaking radiation, hull damage, sitting stationary near the nav gate that terminates in Jasbar. They probably can’t see anything from that damaged quarter, major,” Master Sergeant John Cruz said. Cruz, the noncommissioned officer in charge of engineering, and de facto chief of engineering until an officer was assigned, was part of the gathering of section chiefs brought together to discuss the situation.
“Then we try and finish it off,” Major White said. “We come in from the blind side.”
“Sir?” asked Lieutenant Blakely.
“If that fat target is sitting there with a blind spot and stationary we kill it.”
“How, sir? We can’t fire from here, the missiles can’t nav through the asteroids, and if we move down the nav lane into the system the patrol vehicles will see us even if the cruiser doesn’t.”
“We don’t take the nav lane all the way in. They’d see us that way without a doubt. We drop out of the lane short, at the last jag it takes through the asteroid field and move in from there. I doubt they’ll be looking at rocks. When we come out of the field, we come in from behind the cruiser. You alw
ays tell me how hotshit our pilot crew is, lieutenant. It’s time to show it. We’re going to navigate through part of the asteroid field and blindside the bastards.”
Blakely squinted his eyes and grinned. “Can do, sir.”
“When we get closer we’ll see if the patrol craft are running a pattern. Get with navigation and find us a way through.”
-(o)-
The navigation lanes were the most commonly used form of space travel in settled space. An offshoot of the transit gate and its technology, the navigation lanes were transit gates set up in a serial along a linear course between star systems. In some navigation lanes, conditions necessitated the lanes to diverge from a straight course due to various sorts of hazards, in the case of the navigation lane from Hector to Jasbar it was asteroids. Consequently, the travel time between these two systems was slower than average.
A vehicle traveling within a navigation lane would make a series of short transits—short in interstellar distance at least—as it moved within the lane, receiving course and speed instructions along the way. The transits, or jumps in common parlance, were short enough to ensure precision and keep vehicles in the lane.
It was common for there to be ample distance between the arrival point and the next transit gate to allow a vehicle to confirm its position and course before arriving at the next gate. On average, a vehicle could cover five light-years per a twelve-hour period.
For most space travelers, the use of navigation lanes was easily the most economical form of long distance space travel. The gates in the nav lanes were cheaper to build and maintain, and used far less energy than long distance transit gates. For most travelers, the financial aspect made longer travel times acceptable.
-(o)-
“The Brute, sir. We’ll use the Brute to get in close,” First Lieutenant Leonard Brooks, the navigation crew chief said standing at a plotting table next to Major White.
“The asteroid,” White said, speaking of a well-known and exceptionally large rock in the field between the navigation lane and the Jasbar system.
Conflict: The Pythan War, Invasion Page 3