* * * * *
Josh patted Alexa on the back.“Great shot.”He’d watched the round fly and saw the soldier go down. They’d observed the position for almost three hours to make sure no other guards appeared. If he’d guessed right, Josh figured they wouldn’t change shifts until around midnight. It made for a perfect window of attack. It would take them that long to scale the cliffs and get into position.
The rock wall wasn’t exactly vertical. In places, erosion had created natural handholds and steps. While it was far from easy going, the squad could make the plateau in less than an hour. Once at level with Delta’s base, the group would chuck grenades and explode outward in fire teams, wasting the remaining enemy. They were outnumbered two to one, but surprise of this magnitude paid dividends.
Josh took lead, climbing hand over hand up the wall. Wind pulled at his arms and legs, threatening to dash his body against the sharp rocks below. He pressed his face against the hot stone, taking each inch with utmost caution. After a few minutes, the dark was so pervasive he had to search for each handhold by feel. He slipped more than once, his foot catching a weak mound of rocks, and ended up hanging by his fingertips. His arms ached all the way to his shoulder blades, and sweat stung his eyes. Every few vertical feet he would stop and sip from his camel back. Dax appeared alongside him, out of breath.
“How is this a good idea?”
Josh paused to suck in a bellyful of air before responding.“I figured you needed to lose the weight. I just didn’t want to say anything in front of the squad.”
Dax grinned and kept climbing. Despite his size, he moved nimbly up the rock wall, reaching the landing before the rest of the squad. Josh struggled to keep pace. His hands were beyond cramped. Each time he pried his fingers from one rock they refused to work for several seconds. The twin moons Castor and Pollux rose on the horizon as the soldiers made their way higher and higher toward the enemy base. Dax reached down and pulled his friend the rest of the way to the summit. Josh rolled onto his back and carefully slid toward the camp.
Sandbags had been placed to protect the watchtower from fire below, and they provided excellent cover as the squad assembled. From his position, Josh could make out several tents and half-shelters, all spreading out from a central point on the plateau. This had evolved over the months into more than a patrol base. Charlie had barely managed to set up functional windbreaks, let alone mess tents and armories. Delta had been busy, which would explain why they’d avoided fighting for so long.
Two tents down, Josh could see the armory. A staff sergeant stood outside, his helmet resting on a crate while he smoked a cigarette. Behind him, inside the shelter, were crates of grenades and mines.
“I can hit them from here,”Alexa said.“It should take out that half of the base.”
Josh scanned the area, making a mental note of enemy positions. He looked over his shoulder and caught sight of the sun making its way down to the horizon. Holding up his hand, he counted three fingers between the nearby star and the ground. About forty-five minutes before the light from the twins would expose their position.
“We’re going to do this quietly,”Josh said. He pulled Dax and Alexa in. Around them, the squad had taken position in a tight half circle. They watched and listened for any movement around the area.“If we can take their towers, we own the only high ground. Two HMGs would destroy this base, and we can use this position here to pick off any survivors.”
Dax looked pensive.“I’m with Alexa, Josh. If we hit that armory, we’ll be able to mop up in the confusion. Save us a lot of hassle.”
“No.”Josh tightened his combat vest, pulling on the straps by the webbing.“We’re going to need the ammo.”
“For what?”Alexa asked.
Josh smiled devilishly.“After this, we’re going after Alpha.”
- VI -
“Our people are not willing to divulge secrets of that nature, Magistrate.”Adeline Quinn, standing in front of the Nangolani delegation, glanced over at her boss. Jerry had been silent for most of the negotiations, chiming in only when needed. He preferred to see how his well-practiced students handled the heavy lifting.
The alien began to chant under his breath, his musical language coming out in short bursts. Finally he looked up at Adeline and nodded.“Colorum can then remain an undisclosed location. The Nangolani shall establish our own personal safe haven away from human systems, and in return you will identify areas where we may set up triage and local housing.”
Adeline smiled. She was gorgeous, having taken her looks entirely from her mother. It was a narrow dodge too; her father had a uniquely repulsive nose. With her light skin and fiery red hair, she turned heads wherever she went. There were days when she wondered why she ever went into politics over vainer pursuits, but this wasn’t one of them. In this room, because of her, humanity had allied with an alien race.
It took the better part of the evening, but Jerry and his team of silver-tongued diplomats had managed to work out a simple but comprehensive treaty with the Nangolani. Debating in a foreign language was nothing new to the Chief of Staff. He had to admit he’d had doubts at the beginning, but things had gone smoother than expected. The Secretary Counsellor of Defense had only stayed for a short time, citing prior engagements with the military as an excuse to leave early, but Jerry didn’t mind. He preferred to work with his team and few else.
Adeline had, once again, separated from the pack early on. The other two members of the group took diligent notes and supplied plenty of ammunition for Quinn to throw at the aliens, but they were otherwise silent. Jerry beamed at his goddaughter, more proud than ever that she’d allowed herself to be dragged into this world.
Emperor Anduin had been absent, leaving in place his own version of a Chief of Staff: the Magistrate Intercessor. The surprisingly tall alien wore a scarlet uniform gilded with golden lining. Bronze and silver crescents adorned the fabric, creating a flowing pattern that cascaded from his shoulders to his belt. Crimson fringes hung from his shoulderboards. He spoke with a deep baritone, another oddity after hearing the normally soft voices of the species, and annunciated each syllable. After the pleasantries were over, Jerry had laid down the Terran requests and allowed Adeline to handle the back-and-forth. With Mara helping translate some of the nuances of the language, the treaty was pitched.
Jerry had to admit he was having fun. Talking with the Nangolani diplomats afforded him invaluable insight into their government, which differed radically from the human’s.
The Colonial Federate was based around the Three Pillars, divvying power of legislation and execution amongst the High Chancellor and his cabinet, the Centurial Council, and the Colonial Delegation. Each position was elected by a majority vote of its subordinates. Countries elected their own representatives, who voted for presidents, who elected governors and Ambassadors. Those then invited the best and brightest to fill any vacant seats in the Chamber of the Hundred, as Council members ruled for life. The High Chancellor was elected after a thorough vetting process and served up to three six-year terms. At least, that was how it was all intended to function. Jerry often reminded himself this was barely their tenth year as a government.
The Nangol Magistrate was a different game altogether. Emperor Anduin ruled with near-absolute authority. The members of the Magistrate, known as the Elders, advised the head-of-state and executed his orders. Under them were the Domin, commanders of ships. Jerry called it a militant monarchy. In any case, the two species at least could agree that power and responsibility had to be shared.
For obvious reasons, Nangolani ships were only allowed in Terran systems with an escort group. Fleet had enough on hand to release a small contingent of cruisers and destroyers for the duty, and the Intercessor accepted the condition. As he put it, were the situations reversed the same would be expected.
“One must guard their home, even from supposed friends,”the Intercessor had said.
The aliens possessed technology that the humans did not u
nderstand, namely there proficiency with plasma and laser technology. In the hundreds of years since mankind dropped the shackles of fossil fuels in favor of fusion and fission, they still relied on archaic methods of combat. The Gauss cannons, though modernized and effective, required significant stores of ammunition and limited the effective range of fighters. The Nangolani resisted the idea of sharing their military secrets, but found a compromise. Their own knowledge of hyperspace was limited compared to the Terrans. In exchange for a look at the humans’drive systems, they would release several weapons for study.
A more tender point of the discussion focused on the recent anti-Nangolani violence that had plagued every inhabited system. What had started as a few isolated attacks now seemed an almost weekly event. The Intercessor insisted that the humans deploy better security measures around the embassies. More than that, the Council needed to raise awareness among the human populace that the Boxti, not the Nangolani, were responsible for the tragic events at Tallus. Jerry had no objections to that. In fact, steps were already in place to help calm the animosity.
Mara seemed to enjoy her time in the room. Jerry imagined it felt a treat to both take an active part in the intense negotiation and observe human interactions up close. Years of study from afar and through recorded video could not hope to capture every detail or nuance. She spoke sparingly, more content to just listen and learn. As she later explained, the Nangolani had formed alliances with over a dozen sentient species, and none had provided such an intellectual sparring match.
As the talks came to an end for the day, Jerry rose from his chair and offered a hand to the Magistrate Intercessor. He accepted, though his face showed no emotion. Unlike some of the other aliens, he had no concept of human expression and did not try to fake it. His grip was strong and confident.
“Naku am do, Marmakan,”Jerry said, his tongue tripping somewhat with the alien language. This produced a reaction, and the Intercessor’s brow raised. For a moment Jerry feared he had inadvertently spoken an insult.
“Naku mai sholo.”The delegation bowed their heads.“The honor is mine, Chieftain Ahmad.”The Intercessor and his entourage collected their data pods and left the room. Before he walked through the door, the Intercessor turned to face Jerry.“Your pronunciation was adequate, but try to soften the consonants next time.”He left the human standing dumbfounded.
Mara and Jerry remained with the staffers and tidied up. Adeline made small talk with some of the alien aides, but the two men simply stood and gawked. Even having just spent the better part of twenty-four hours locked in a room full of Nangolanis, they acted like schoolchildren at a zoo. Mara, for her part, didn’t so much as blush at the attention. Jerry was struck that he didn’t know whether or not they blushed at all. Of all the species discovered thus far, only humans demonstrated that particular expression.
“Thank you,”he said after they finished setting the chairs back in place.“You were very helpful today.”Jerry grabbed his briefcase, slipping his phone into his pocket and throwing his bottle of water into the recycling bin.
Mara nodded, still focused on the task of cleaning the table.“This was different than I expected. You are a skilled negotiator. I don’t think a single concession was made without equal compensation from our side.”
Adeline spoke up.“The art of building a treaty isn’t about leaving the table happy. You have to be willing to make sacrifices, otherwise you’re not going anywhere.”
Jerry pulled his phone out and activated a note from Alexander. He showed Mara.“The High Chancellor provided me with guidelines about where and when to draw the line. All we had to do was start the conversation way above expectations and walk them down into our comfort zone.”He didn’t admit that the entire ordeal had been significantly easier than predicted. In fact, in his fifteen years working for the government, no single table talk had ever ended so amicably. And those were between members of the same species.“I hadn’t expected your species to be able to eat human food. That opened up a few possibilities we hadn’t thought of.”
Mara patted Jerry’s shoulder. She seemed more comfortable with physical contact than the rest of her kind. Some of the Nangolani were downright skittish about being touched.“In any case, you displayed remarkable poise. I find that every minute spent with your race delivers mountains of observations. It is no wonder you have become such a dominant force in your systems.”
“That and a lack of anyone else on the food chain,”Adeline said.
Mara looked up, suddenly worried.“You have to eat those below your station?”
For a second she didn’t respond. Then she and Jerry laughed so hard tears streamed from their eyes. A full minute passed before the Chief of Staff was able to speak.“Mara, I think you and I need to have a lesson in modern idioms. Are you tired? Do you need to rest?”
She smiled.“I’ve been living forty-hour days my whole life. I’d rather spend more time learning with you.”
Jerry looked over at his team, raising his eyebrows quizzically.
“I think we’ll pass,”Adeline said.“I have to get these boys back to the office so we can transcribe the recordings.”She held out a hand which Mara quickly accepted.“I look forward to working with you again, Mara.”
“Likewise,”the Historian replied. She lingered with Jerry as the diplomats walked down the hall and disappeared behind the corner. Turning to Jerry, she smiled.“Shall we?”
He walked to the door and gestured for her to lead.“Ladies first.”As they walked out into the hallway together, Jerry put a hand on her back. There was something comfortable about her. She reminded him, in a strange way, of his aide: so eager to learn.“Now I will teach you the wonder drug we call‘coffee.’”
- VII -
The wind rocked the northern tower of Delta’s post. Built out of ammunition crates and excess canvas, it was more an elevated bunker than anything else. Sandbags protected the unlucky guards from incoming fire, but did nothing to break the constant icy gusts that swept up from the canyons below. Delta had secured a strong foothold in the plateau, but it made for a terribly uncomfortable home away from home.
The lone sentry squeezed his eyes shut as another blustery current buffeted his lackluster shelter. It was seven hours into his watch and he was ready for relief. To be fair, he’d been ready for relief hours ago, when the sun was still bearing down and the temperature was forty degrees warmer. Ever since the company had pulled from the fighting, each day was just an exercise in the age-old idiom:“Hurry up and wait.”He and his fellow soldiers spent most of the week cleaning their weapons and conducting drills, but even the platoon sergeants were lax now. With the gauntlet ending in a few days, there didn’t seem to be much point in risking an injury.
The sentry chanced a peek at his watch, but the numbers were too dim to see. He danced from one foot to another, trying to warm his numb feet. He was a native of New Eden’s tropical paradise the Golden Tooth, where the temperature rarely dipped below eighty. As he was fond of saying, he wasn’t built for Kronos nights. Unwilling to wait for his replacement, the corporal switched on the soft blue light and stared at the ticking hands. He shook his head, disappointed.
When he heard the sound, his first thought was that it was his lucky day; that Private Cobert had arrived early to send him back to a warm bunk. Spots danced in front of his face, the ghost images from the watch, obscuring the dark form that climbed into the tower. He smiled.
“About damn time, man.”The Sentry blew into his hands, teeth chattering.“You ready to take over?”His eyes widened when he saw the face that emerged from the shadows. Delta didn’t have any females left in the exercise. And they’d never had one this pretty.
“That’s the plan,”Alexa said as she jammed the simulator blade home. Derry barely had time to gasp before his suit shut him down.
* * * * *
Josh waited until he received a double-click on his radio. Upon hearing the signal, he gestured for Dax to send his team members to the southern t
ower. Two privates, eager to try out their sneaking skills, padded off down the narrow pathway behind the tents. Minutes later, two clicks sounded over their walkies.
The plan was relatively simple. Josh figured the guard would change around midnight, as most attacks occurred either just before or just after sunrise or sunset. With the towers under their control, and the perimeter patrol focusing on the ingress route to the east, Josh could set up his squad in a half-moon around the camp. The XO had been battle-tracking the statistics as reported over the Battalion Net week to week, and it was estimated that Delta was down to a platoon and a half in strength. While that was considerably more than Josh’s heavy squad of twelve, it was not an insurmountable number.
Once the towers had been immobilized, Josh sent Dax and the rest of the heavy machine gun teams to occupy the positions. With a three-way crossfire—carefully established to avoid fratricide—the squad would tear the camp to pieces while attempting to leave the armory intact. Josh and a few sharpshooters would stay behind by the cliff to eliminate any survivors, and to sweep the base once the firing ceased.
Dax and his support gunner moved slowly toward the southern position, while Josh sent two more north. The silence bore down on the squad leader as he squatted there, unwilling to move lest the smallest sound give away his position and compromise the entire operation. The air had cooled significantly, the temperature plummeting. As his adrenaline wore down, Josh shivered. He’d been here before, on other training exercises, and he knew how important the next few minutes would be. Charlie needed all of the Delta soldiers to play a hand they didn’t know they’d been dealt, staying away from the towers and in their tents. The worse the weather became, the better it was for the squad. Cold soldiers tended to stay indoors if possible, and the Delta commander couldn’t possibly imagine that the last squad in a dead company had just scaled a cliff face in an attempt to conduct a suicidal midnight raid.
When the Stars Fade (The Gray Wars) Page 17