by T. R. Harris
“Isn’t that what you do in operational planning, try to anticipate the moves of the enemy?”
“Of course, but it’s not always that easy. Unlike chess, there are hidden, unknown factors at play. That’s where the guessing comes in, and why intelligence—in the form of live-asset and cyber—is so important. Without solid intel, all operations are just wishful thinking. But if you know something your enemy doesn’t know you know, now you can play the game…and hopefully win. In chess, this is making your opponent believe they know something you don’t—like the reason for a move.”
Zac shook his head. “I appreciate the lesson, general. I’m fifteen years in the Marines and I still feel like a damn boot recruit. I’ve gone on over a hundred Runs, killed a lot of the enemy, yet these past two years have really opened my eyes to something I don’t want to admit.”
“What’s that?”
“I really don’t know shit about what I do—or correctly—what the Marines do. Or the Army or the Navy, for that matter. I’ve been locked away in my own little cocoon for so long that I don’t have a clue how the real-world operates.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, lieutenant. REVs have a mission to do and you did it better than anyone else. Unfortunately, that mission didn’t allow you to participate in the real world, as you call it. You still have time, son.”
“If I live long enough.” Zac snorted. “You know, for most of my career I never feared death; it was just something that happened to every REV. I can’t say I fear it now, but I will regret when it happens. There’s so much I’ve missed. I’d really like a chance to make up for lost time.”
Smith put a hand on Zac’s knee and then stood up. “Such deep thoughts, lieutenant. But I can tell you one thing, it’s the desire to see another day that’s the driving force behind Humanity. It’s what keeps soldiers from dying and gives them the will to live. Without the imagination to see another day, there would be nothing to live for. It’s a good thing you feel this way, Zac. Keep it up…and we just may make it out of this mess alive.”
The general wandered off to his stateroom, leaving Zac in the quiet of the lounge. He stretched out on the soft couch, propped a pillow under his head, and promptly fell asleep.
32
Initially, there were five REVs who tested positive to the natural form of NT-4: Zac Murphy, Angus Price, Donovan Ross, Kyle Johnson and Mike Brickey. They were all 0351-Cs, the most-senior of the REVs. Brickey died during the mission to Iz’zar and the Temple of Light. The other four survived to return to Camp Slater on ES-6.
At the time, these four REVs were a rare breed, the only Humans producing a version of the performance-enhancing drug naturally. Dr. David Cross was anxious to study the REVs and arranged for them to be secretly transported to Earth and his hidden research facility in the underground Cheyenne Mountain complex.
The Grid was in chaos at the time, erupting simultaneously at the news of the temple tragedy. It was as if the Antaere already had their massive propaganda operation planned long before the events on Iz’zar. The moment the building collapsed, the aliens already had the names of the REVs involved and were broadcasting video reports to a trillion beings across fifteen separate star systems. Within hours, protests formed—again, a remarkable feat considering this was a spontaneous reaction to something that took place a thousand light-years from some of the protest sites. Riotous crowds carried pre-printed banners and signs, and angry mobs marched on Human military bases and enclaves before the dust from the temple’s destruction had a chance to settle.
Camp Slater—the training and study center for the five unique REVs—was hastily abandoned as angry natives swept across the desert plains and onto the unsecured grounds. With such an uproar demanding the heads of the REVs involved, Cross had the men divide into two groups, taking separate mini-convoys away from the planet. Murphy and Price were in one convoy, accompanied by a pair of fast-effect ships carrying a crew of ten each. Ross and Johnson made up the other group, with the same escort contingent. The caravans took slightly different paths, yet with the same purpose to meet up with the Second Fleet at rally point Blue. The captains and crew of the escort ships weren’t told the identities of their passengers or their eventual destination. All they had to do was get to the rally point where their Human cargo would board other transports for the journey closer to Earth. No one knew their ultimate destination was the homeworld itself.
Zac and Angus made it to the rendezvous point, and eventually to Earth.
Donovan and Kyle weren’t so fortunate.
Fourteen days out from ES-6, they ran into a small Antaere strike force patrolling for stragglers trying to link up with the retreating fleet. The effect-ships engaged the enemy and were destroyed, while the vessel carrying the REVs slipped away. Now traveling alone through hostile territory, Captain Pearson spent the next thirty-two days dodging an ever-growing number of enemy ships forming up to build a barricade across the grid near ES-8. Running low on food and fuel, he decided to land his ship at the Human enclave on ES-7, a planet called Kaus. There they would hold up until it became safer to travel the Grid, or a new escort could be found.
Donovan had his nose pressed against a viewport, leaving greasy residue on the glass, while staring out at the approaching planet. He had vivid, REV-enhanced memories of the place, having gone on three Runs to the surface when the planet was in contention. All his efforts—including the long months of recovery from his injuries—were all for naught. Earth military had evacuated the planet thirty days ago to catch the remnants of the retreating Second Fleet. According to what Don had heard, the natives and their Antaere puppet-masters then ransacked the three well-established military bases, scavenging the remaining arsenals of heavy and small arms, as well as a few in-air and short-range spacecraft. Most of the equipment had been destroyed prior to the evacuation, but enough remained to supply the small native military force.
Although the natives—humanoid creatures called the Lanic—weren’t experienced soldiers by any stretch of the imagination, they were now using their new-found cache of military armament to harass the colonists at the last Human enclave on the planet. Originally, there had been three camps, but when the natives refused the Antaere calls to cease their attacks on the settlements, thousands of refugees fled to the largest of the enclaves, a placed appropriately called Unity. Now the walled encampment contained nearly half-a-million Humans and was an overcrowded mass of squalor and nervous ex-pats, low on food, water…and hope.
The ship buffeted as an explosion filled the air along the flight path.
“Attention,” said Captain Pearson over the 1-MC. “Strap-in and prepare for some radical maneuvers. It seems the Lanic aren’t going to let us land at Unity without a fuss. Get ready, this could get a little bumpy.”
Donovan slid back in the seat and buckled the harness. Kyle joined him a moment later, using handholds to pull his body into a seat. The internal gravity had been turned off during the race to the surface and the ship was right at the point where local gravity was taking affect.
“Welcome home,” Kyle said with a smile. He knew Don’s history on Kaus, although personally, Kyle never had the pleasure of killing aliens on this particular world.
“Thanks. You know, I left some milk in the refrigerator from the last time I was here. Do you think it’s still good?”
“I wouldn’t risk it. We may be badass REVs, but I draw the line at spoiled milk.”
The ship flipped over and spiraled toward the surface. The REVs were pressed against their harnesses, as their bodies cascaded instantly to compensate for the small amount of associated pain.
More flak erupted outside the ship. It was obvious Captain Pearson was taking the shortest route to the surface, which in this case, was straight down. The rookie Lanic gunners couldn’t compensate quickly enough and placed most of their anti-spacecraft fire well behind the streaking starship.
At the last minute, the captain leveled out the ship, a move that caused ev
ery seam and weld along the hull scream out in protest. The living beings aboard the ship did their own share of screaming—all except the REVs. They sat calmly strapped in their seats, with almost amused grins on their faces. This was mild compared to a combat insertion from orbit, of which the two REVs had a combined one hundred sixty-four landings under their belts.
The spaceport within the sprawling Human settlement was small and currently overcrowded with air- and spacecraft from across the planet. Even a few tents had been pitched on the tarmac, as the refugees sought to stake a claim to any available space. It was a miracle Captain Pearson managed to land his craft without crushing anyone or burning them to ash. That wasn’t to say all the squatters came off unscathed, but they shouldn’t have been on the landing field in the first place.
As with all ES worlds, the gravity of Kaus was nearly indistinguishable from Earth’s, as was the composition of the atmosphere and the magnetic field, as well as the planet’s rotational period and seasons. Even the soil was compatible to Human crops, which was one of the reasons the area outside the walls was a patchwork of native hovels and scattered settlements.
Forty years ago, when Humans were first allowed to immigrate to other Order-worshipping worlds, they were often given barren, inhospitable tracks of land by the natives. Although the Antaere encouraged integration of their followers as a way of creating unity, the natives seldom shared the same welcoming attitude. These were aliens coming to infect their land—and they weren’t the Great Antaere. That’s why the enclaves were established in the first place, to accommodate the alien settlers, yet keep them segregated from the rest of native society.
The Humans came anticipating the struggles they would face, bringing with them advanced fertilization and irrigation methods that turned the barren land into nutrient-rich soil, ready to support the ever-growing population. As the years passed, the natives saw the Humans as a source of income and unique alien products and began showing up at the gates with items for sale or trade. Soon, small communities sprang up outside the enclaves. Some of the natives even began working the fields for the Humans, while others developed their own huge farms to provide food for the settlement.
After almost forty years, there were entire generations of Humans born and raised on the alien worlds, with Earth only a place they read about in their history books. The natives came to not only accommodate the aliens, but accept them, since all shared devotion to the Order and the promise of the Final Glory.
When the war between the Humans and the Antaere began, most natives saw the enclaves as part of their existing society and not simply a nest of aliens among them. The fact that most of these worlds wished for freedom from the Antaere—but not their religion—allowed the Humans from Earth to gain rapid footholds on most of the ES worlds. Ironically, the Humans inhabitants of the enclaves weren’t as accepting.
With the arrogance of the homeworld, the Human occupying forces and government bureaucrats often considered the enclaves as satellites of the overall Human community. They moved in and took over, which caused considerable friction within the immigrant population. The inhabitants had willingly left the Earth to live on alien planets and worship a religion that was not welcome on the homeworld. In addition, many of the colonists had been brought to the ES worlds as children or were born there. They felt very little—if any—loyalty to Earth. And yet here were ‘aliens’ now dictating terms and treating many within the enclaves as subjects of the all-mighty planet Earth.
However, with the power of the Earth military and the support of the native population for the liberation of their planets, the Humans of the enclaves were overmatched. They accepted things as they were and went along to get along.
When the natives suddenly turned against the Humans—all Humans—those in the enclaves were both hurt and confused that their fellow natives would treat them the same as the evil Earth Humans. They pleaded with the protesters, telling them how upset they were with the destruction of the temple—just as they were—and how they wanted the Humans gone—just as they did. Yet still the protesters came, refusing to accept the enclaves as brothers and sisters in the struggle against the Earth Humans.
Out of necessity, the politics within the enclaves turned more pragmatic. They were hated by the natives and taken for granted by the Earth Humans. Large numbers of fleeing and stranded Humans from within the Grid came to the various enclaves, expecting to be given shelter and protection. Again, caught in the middle of diametrically opposed political forces, the inhabitants of the enclaves tolerated the invaders, who often used their weapons and military expertise to defend the settlement against the native protesters, natives who until a few months ago, had been their friends and planet-mates. It was either that or perish.
33
There was an angry crowd outside the starship when Captain Pearson cracked the hatch. They were there to protest the destruction of the camps and the injury caused to several of the Human natives on the grounds of the spaceport. Uniformed military personnel had moved around the ship to keep the protesters at bay, which served to raise the temperature of the crowd to the boiling point. The enclaves had decent-sized police forces, but no organized military, so all the troops surrounding the starship were from off-planet. This didn’t help defuse the situation; in fact, it made it worse.
Donovan Ross and Kyle Johnson joined Captain Pearson in the bright sunshine of Kaus. The temperature was on the warm side and a strong breeze swirled down from a range of low-lying hills to the south. Beyond that were the open plains, with the only mountains of any respectable height four hundred miles to the north.
An Army officer stepped up to the Navy captain and saluted.
“I’m Lieutenant Colonel Aaron Monroe, First Expeditionary Force Bravo, assigned here on ES-7.”
“I’m Captain Donnie Pearson, attached to Second Fleet, Ninth Squadron, operating near the Red Zone…until recently.” The men shook hands.
LtCol. Monroe turned to the REVs, who were dressed in civilian clothes.
“These are the passengers we were transporting to rally point Blue,” said Captain Pearson. “I have to admit, I was never given their names.”
The officer eyed both men with a steady, knowing gaze. “I understand, captain.” He turned to the Naval officer. “If you don’t want to stay aboard your ship, I can provide you and your crew with accommodations. They won’t be fancy, but they will be crowded.”
“We’ll stay aboard, colonel, but thanks for the offer. How are you holding up out here? You’re kind of sitting ducks.”
“We’re holding on by the skin of our teeth, captain,” Monroe replied. “When the main force evacuated, I was sent over here with a handful of troops to protect the enclave. That didn’t seem like a very big order at the time, since the Lanic natives and the Unity Enclave have always had a pretty good relationship. But recently, that’s changed. I managed to bring some anti-aircraft lasers with me, so we have a pretty effective shield over the compound against rockets and bombs. Even the Antaere are reluctant to use their orbital forces to hit us. They’re publicly on the side of the enclaves, since these are believers of the Order. But behind the scenes, they’re stirring things up bigtime. Don’t know if you noticed, but the Lanic are setting up railgun batteries on the hills to the south.”
“Railguns? How the hell did they get their hands on railguns?”
Monroe laughed. “From us. When we evacuated, we destroyed a lot of the weapons we couldn’t take with us. We thought destroying the generators for the guns would do the trick. Obviously, the Lanic have found a new way to energize the weapons.”
“The Antaere?”
“Who else? The bottom line is you might have lived longer if you’d stayed in space.”
Pearson smiled. “Anyway we can leave now?”
“’Fraid not. You saw how hard it was to land. The Lanic and the Antaere don’t care much about who comes in, but they’re not allowing anyone to leave. Sorry, captain, you’re here for the duration.�
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The Army officer looked around him at the raucous protest gathering steam around them. “If you plan on sticking around, you need to get the lay of the land. It ain’t pretty and you need to know the dynamics at work. I’ll have one of my men take you over to the command tent. I’ll meet you back there in about thirty minutes. But for now, I’d like to take your two guests with me, if you don’t mind?”
Pearson displayed a moment of surprise at the request. He figured the lieutenant colonel knew something about his passengers that he didn’t, at least not for sure, although he suspected.
“Of course, colonel.” He turned to the REVs. “Are you okay with this?”
Donovan nodded. “Yes sir.”
An Army lieutenant led Captain Pearson away.
Monroe stepped in close to the REVs. “I know who you are; I’m surprised the captain doesn’t. Your pictures are all over the CW waves.”
“I think he knows, sir, but just didn’t want to let on,” said Kyle.
The officer eyed each of the handsome, square-jawed faces. “Don’t take this wrong, but most of you guys look alike. Is either one of you Murphy?”
Kyle smiled. “No sir, we’re Johnson and Ross.”
The officer nodded, and then he frowned.
“Do you have a medical team with you?”
“No sir, just us.”
The officer shook his head.
“What’s wrong?” Donovan asked.
“There’s another REV here, along with his medical support group; I’ll introduce you, but you probably won’t get a very warm welcome.”
“Why not?”
“You’ll see. They’re in a series of tents just off the landing field—if Captain Pearson didn’t fuck them up on the way in.”