by Michael Ryan
They continued to lob grenades at us, which were deadly. But as they swarmed toward the encampment, the Teds couldn’t kill the native fighters fast enough.
A tall young tribesman who was being pushed from behind was the first to overrun the closest Ted gun position. He clutched a dead comrade in front of him as a shield, and before he was killed by Gauss rounds, managed to stab one of the gun operators. The CFM fell quiet for a brief moment, which was enough for the next native to leap into the entrenchment with a piercing war cry.
He managed to kill a Ted before a stream of rounds vaporized his skull.
The Ted commander must have realized that with a throng of fighters charging, a one-to-one kill ratio wouldn’t end well for him, and he made his second error of the night: he tried to retreat to one of the command tents with a couple of his soldiers as guards. He probably wanted to get to whatever long-range comm they had so he could transmit a distress call, but all three were killed before they made it ten steps.
We managed to take control of the first CFM gun, and I joined the fighters in the dugout, ignoring the corpses and the lake of blood coagulating in the dirt. Using hand signals, I directed our Raiders to assault the second gunnery position.
“See if you can find some Ted grenades!” I shouted to one of my Raiders.
A moment later he held up a blue container and grinned. “I got a case.”
Using the grenades wasn’t hard to figure out, even though most of us were accustomed to firing them from our suit launchers.
The fight only lasted another four minutes.
“We won,” Pow said.
“You seem surprised,” I countered, trying to hide my shock at the outcome of the lightning battle. I smiled and didn’t mention my unrealized doubts.
Pow had remained with the archers to relay commands and had survived, along with about half of them. The Teds had been forced to concentrate on our melee fighters and the catrilla, so the archers had been left untargeted for most of the attack. Of the three hundred native infantry warriors, only a third had survived.
There were many new Tsalagian widows.
We lost Lieutenant Veenz and five of the Raiders.
“Avery,” Abrel said.
“Yes,” I replied, but avoided his gaze. “I just need a moment.”
“I understand, but we have no idea how soon reinforcements are going to show.”
“If they’re on the way, we’re screwed no matter what,” I said. “Either they have available units close, or not. We either have no time, or plenty.”
“Okay,” he said. “What about the dead?”
“We should try to burn all the evidence. Take five; then grab a crew.”
I eyed the carnage spread across the clearing and cupped my hands to my mouth. “Callie!” I called.
“Yes?” she answered from right behind me.
I spun, the relief on my face evident. She was with Mallsin, who was also unharmed. Callie winked at me and raised an eyebrow, and I exhaled heavily before pointing at the command tent.
“See if you can salvage any communications hardware,” I said. “We need to try to reach a Gurt unit.”
“Should I attempt a sat-burst?” she asked. “I can program a repeating message, but you realize that will work in reverse, right?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “But we’re in a bind here. After this, more Teds are coming, one way or another. We aren’t staying hidden no matter what happens.” I sighed. There was no good outcome I could think of. “If you get anything working, try to ping anything Gurt and then come find me.”
“On it,” she said.
“Avery, you want to salvage the weapons?” Abrel asked me.
I pointed at the Ted encampment. “Look.”
“Shit.”
The tribe was collecting guns, grenades, and everything they could carry. I could only imagine what the chief was thinking. With high-tech gear, he could wipe out his rivals. He didn’t realize that I’d been fighting Teds for years, and they weren’t forgiving when it came to their units being slaughtered. If the tribe insisted on keeping the weapons, they were condemning themselves and probably us as well.
Not that we weren’t already going to be on some commander’s most wanted list.
I walked to the command tent to see if Callie had made any progress.
“Well?” I asked.
Callie frowned. “Mallsin took off once I verified the equipment worked.”
“Did you reach anyone?”
“I was told to wait.”
“What do you mean, you were told to wait?”
“According to the operator who picked up the comm, there aren’t any Gurt forces on-planet. There’s a starship up there,” she said, pointing upward. “But it’s going to take some explaining before we get someone who can help us.”
“Someone will be happy we’re alive. At least, I think they will.”
She gave me sidelong glance. “What about Pow?”
“Don’t remind me,” I said. “I’m going to lie. With Lieutenant Veenz gone, I’m the one who’s going to be filing the report. Pow’s dead. End of story.”
“I won’t fight you on that.”
“So, back to the communication.”
“Avery, we’ve got a bigger problem right now. We have to decide if we want to keep this comm gear. We can take it back to the village. But battery life won’t be more than a few weeks – the charger’s shot. And having it in our possession would make it impossible to pretend we weren’t part of this slaughter if the Teds get here first.”
“Hell,” I said. “They might just kill us anyway.”
“True, but keeping this stuff would guarantee it. Not only that, but attempting to reach our people means we’re telling the Teds exactly where we’re located.”
I nodded. “Keep trying to reach someone up the chain of command. Send a burst that gives our location and that we need to be picked up. If you get an officer on comm, find me.”
It was clear that we needed to destroy everything as soon as possible. Command would eventually find out that we were alive and that we’d requested a unit to extract us. That would cover our asses. If they took a year to get here, that couldn’t be blamed on us. I wasn’t willing to risk the probability that Ted forces were already en route.
I found Pow.
“The chief needs to allow us to destroy everything here,” I said. “If the Teds discover the tribe was part of this…”
“I don’t know that he will,” Pow said. He frowned. “You’re asking him to surrender his war spoils, Avery. It’s a lot to ask.”
“Say whatever you have to in order to change his mind. Lie. Make up a story. I don’t care what you do. Figure it out.”
“I’ll try, Avery.”
“That’s all I can ask.”
We didn’t head back to the village until the next day.
Callie had no luck getting an officer on comm. Apparently the Gurt forces in orbit had their hands full, which was fine by me. We’d sent a full report in a single burst, including our location and a list of the unit’s survivors.
Pow had convinced the natives to abandon everything Ted-related, so along with the communications equipment, we incinerated the weapons and armor.
“How did you talk them into it?” I asked Pow. I was shocked when he told me that the chief was willing to let us burn all the spoils in a massive bonfire.
“I took Chief Gunju aside and explained that all Ted weapons were enchanted. Then I demonstrated my ability to fire a Gauss gun.”
“You did what?” I asked.
“I made up a story that the weapons would refuse to operate for anyone who had darkness and disloyalty in their soul.”
My face broke into an incredulous grin. “That worked?”
“I fired the weapon first. I then disabled it and gave it to him. He couldn’t fire it.”
“So you convinced a man capable of having you executed that…he was evil?”
Pow looked like a cat that had just eaten a
mouse. “I promised him that if he allowed me to destroy the weapons, I’d keep his secret.”
“Nice work,” I said. “I’m happy you’re here, Pow. I consider you a friend. I want you to know that I’ve sent out a communication. I’m hoping our forces get here before more Teds show up. In either case, you’re not who you are. You’re nobody special. We didn’t bring you here.”
“I understand, Avery. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Don’t waste your gift. Have a lot of children.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Salvation comes from above, punishment from below.
~ Holy Writs of Vahobra, 13:19
Eight days later, on an otherwise balmy, partially overcast day, the first heli-jet appeared in the sky.
“Avery!” Mallsin shouted.
“I see it.” I stared at the aircraft as it crossed a patch of blue and disappeared into the clouds.
“One of ours?” Abrel asked.
“I couldn’t tell. You?”
“No,” he admitted. “What’s your gut say?”
“To assume the worst.”
Callie arrived in the middle of our discussion. “What are you two talking about?”
“We just spotted a heli-jet,” Mallsin said, pointing toward the ridge of mountains in the distance. “We’re trying to guess whether it’s Ted or Gurt.”
Callie frowned. “I bet it’s Ted.”
“I’m afraid you might be right.” Mallsin shook her head. She hugged Abrel and glanced at the clouds a final time. “We’d better pack our bags. One way or another, tribal life is over.”
We debated whether to stay in the village and let whoever had arrived find us, or if it would be safer to head toward the destroyed Ted camp and tackle whoever was arriving without subjecting the tribe to further jeopardy. In the end, heading out won.
I let everyone know that we were leaving the following morning.
A Gurt soldier informed me she was staying. “I’m done, Avery. I won’t leave.”
“You’ll be guilty of desertion. It’s a capital offense,” I said to her. “There’s nothing I can do to protect you if they find you.”
Her expression clouded. “That seems disingenuous, Avery.”
“Not at all,” I protested.
“You’re protecting Pow.”
She made a good point. That’s what happens when you bend the rules. One lie turns to two and two morph into three. Before you know it, you’re a defense attorney in Mexico City. I had no choice but to give in to her. “I’ll list you as MIA. That’s the best I can do.”
“Fair enough. I love my new life here, and I don’t want to be a soldier anymore.”
We became a party of fifteen.
Our group left the camp at daybreak without fanfare, after Pow had come up with a long-winded invention about some religious pilgrimage we were obligated to embark upon as Gurts. I’m not sure if the chief believed the cover story, but he made no effort to stop us.
We took minimal provisions and followed the well-worn path back toward the battleground. Anyone searching for those responsible for the destruction of the Ted base camp would have little problem following the tracks left by five hundred warriors. Our fate would be determined by whether the heli-jet we’d seen was a Gurt recon patrol or Teds sent to find out why communications from the camp had ceased.
If we’d been in our armor, the identity of the craft would have popped up on our display screens. Without modern technology, we were forced to get close enough to make an ID visually.
“If we find Teds, do we surrender?” Abrel asked.
“I think that’s the smartest route to take,” I answered. “To protect the tribe. It’s not as if we can hide. I’m hoping the tribe will be left alone. Because there are no witnesses other than us, they don’t have to enter into it. As far as our account is concerned, we attacked and destroyed the camp, with their cooperation with terrorists as our motivation.”
“I hope so, too,” he said. “Even though the tribe were vicious killers at times, I found them to be friendly. I didn’t mind the time we spent there.”
“It wasn’t horrible, I’ll grant you that,” I agreed.
“But it’s at an end. Look,” he said, and pointed to movement in the tree line ahead of us. “Armor.”
“Time to find out if we’re heroes or prisoners,” I said.
We walked into the clearing with our empty hands extended in peace and watched as a Gurt TCI-Armored Special Infantry soldier approached us with his Gauss gun ready.
“Acting Lieutenant Avery Ford here,” I said firmly. “Lower your weapon and identify me.”
“Sir, we’re glad you’re alive,” the soldier said. His voice rang from the suit’s external speaker, a jarring reminder that I was back in a different world of things high-tech. A part of me was already beginning to miss tribal life as we followed the soldier and his unit back to the heli-jet. “Are there any other survivors?”
“No, this is it. All of our suits and equipment were lost.”
“We better do this double-time,” he said as we left the forest. “My system shows an inbound Ted heli. This LZ is about to get hot.”
Abrel frowned at me. “One minute back, and we’re already in the shit.”
“I didn’t expect anything different.”
We lifted off the ground as missiles exploded around us. As I looked down at the foliage a final time, I could have sworn I spied a patch of multicolored fur flashing through the trees.
The catrilla would have to go without Gurt flesh, at least for today.
CHAPTER TWENTY
It is not enough to win a war; it is more important to organize the peace.
~ Aristotle
Tedesconian Central Command Offices
Chemecko Armed Forces Building
Kienton, Chemecko, Planet Talamz
Lieutenant Colonel Balestain paced behind his desk.
“Sir,” his aide said in a whisper, “the general and his staff are waiting.”
Balestain glared at the man and then nodded. “I know. Inform them I’ll be there shortly.”
The aide left him to his thoughts. Balestain was no stranger to political machinations, which had only increased since his promotion. The primary reason he’d rejected becoming a lieutenant colonel was so he could remain in the field; the second reason was waiting for him in the conference room. Another committee meeting with the joint chiefs of staff, followed by an ass-kissing session with representatives of the Chemeckos. He wondered if he’d ever be allowed to retire.
Probably not.
Military life was all he’d known his entire adult life. He expected death to meet him in the field, not a veterans’ hospital on Purvas. He didn’t want to die under a doctor’s care, surrounded by nurses and with machines breathing for him. He deserved a warrior’s death in combat.
Which had seemed impossible after the cursed Gurts had vanquished the Teds, and the virus they’d unleashed had eviscerated the population and laid the country low. But thanks to a faction of the government that had arisen from the power vacuum the crisis of defeat had caused, he’d gotten a second lease on life as a military fixture, albeit one who operated in secret to advance the faction’s agenda. The official Ted government was a bunch of worthless lickspittles who’d rolled over to every Gurt edict, including their demand that the Teds reduce their armed forces to the minimum necessary to preserve internal order within the country’s borders. The faction Balestain embraced had authorized a new clandestine buildup of the Tedesconian military, and had been influential enough behind the scenes that the official government had turned a blind eye to its actions.
The meeting room was uncomfortably cold. Balestain sat and requested the Ted equivalent of coffee. “General,” he began, and scowled at the older man, “I’m going to be frank.”
“I expected nothing less,” his superior officer said. General Valroote was the commander in chief on Talamz and answered only to the deputy prime minister on Purvas –
the most influential member of the secret cabal that was the power behind the throne of the official government. Because of the communication lag – messages had to be brought on leaping ships – the general had near carte blanche for operations on-planet. Like Balestain, he made no effort to hide his disdain for any strategy that didn’t completely destroy his opponents, and he had little patience for those unwilling to do whatever it took to achieve total victory.
“I’m tired of being caged like a zoo animal,” Balestain said. “I want a field assignment. You know I don’t care about the ramifications of a demotion.”
“That’s a rather large request, Balestain. You’re getting a little too old to be slogging around on a battlefield.”
“I want a command that will put me with troops. I’ve done my duty, and I expect to be allowed to die here. I’ve done my part here; the Meckos are committed to following you in whatever interplanetary conflicts you deem necessary. You’ve gotten everything you’ve asked for.”
“I’ve one more favor to ask, Lieutenant Colonel,” he answered. “I’m going to preemptively strike the Rhanskad city of Vipsunpolis–”
“You go too far,” Balestain interrupted. He stood and shook his head. “You can’t possibly think this is a good idea. I’ve worked endlessly to ensure–”
“Sit, my old friend, and calm down, before I demote you to corporal and send you out with the infantry.”
“I’d rather die honorably in an armored suit than overturn alliances I’ve lost so much blood creating. What are you thinking?”
“There’s more to this than meets the eye,” the general said. “Please. Sit. Let me tell you what you don’t know, and then you can decide how you wish to proceed. I’m going to use you and your mercenary humans in the capacity for which you seem best deployed.” The general motioned for Balestain to sit.
The lieutenant colonel obeyed. “Okay, General Valroote. I’m listening.”
“Two years ago in the Harea, you found proof of a–”
Balestain jumped to his feet again. “We’ve had contact? On Purvas?”