Homefront: Portal Wars III

by Jay Allan

  * * *

  “Nine hundred on Juno, thirty-four hundred on Alantris, just under two thousand on Helios…” Anton Samovich stared down at the tablet, his finger scrolling slowly as he read the figures. He’d known the approximate numbers, of course, but these were the results of the census he’d ordered, and they were exact.

  They’d better be exact…

  “So, just over twenty thousand total on the worlds Taylor’s army have marched through.”

  “Yes, Secretary-General. Our best estimate of those killed in action on these worlds is 29,500, excluding of course, the Black Corps, which was completely wiped out, the last 4,000 apparently by their own…”

  “Yes,” Samovich snapped back at the aide. “I am well aware of the fate of the Black Corps.” His face darkened. He’d thought that plan had been foolproof, an army far larger than Taylor’s, with the same cybernetic enhancements…and conditioned to obey orders no matter what. But Taylors’ army had fought them like banshees, inflicting at least a 3-1 ratio of casualties. Still, it wasn’t the military loss that most troubled Samovich. Somehow, the Black Corps, or Taylor’s people, had discovered the conditioning…and the blasted soldiers who had survived the fighting killed themselves so they couldn’t be ordered to fight against their will. Samovich was used to dealing with compliant citizens, easily cowed with threats and empty promises. The thought of people strong enough, defiant enough, to choose defiance and death over government control was unsettling to say the least.

  “So, there are twenty-thousand soldiers on these worlds who survived the fighting with Taylor, but chose not to join him.”

  “That is correct, Secretary-General. Twenty thousand, four hundred sixteen to be exact. As per orders, we have ceased shipments of weapons and ammunition, but we continue to supply food and other basic sustenance. We have received multiple requests for authorization to transit back to Earth now that hostilities have ceased on the subject worlds, and we have responded in all cases with orders to stand by and assume defensive positions in case the Tegeri return.”

  Samovich sat unmoving, his mind deep in thought. Twenty-thousand veterans…they would be enormously valuable in supplementing the raw recruits and hastily-reassigned internal security units he had available to face Taylor’s army if it came. When it came…Samovich had no doubt that the rebel leader would return to Earth, with a goal no less audacious than destroying UNGov outright. Dealing with a true zealot with large forces behind him was something new to Samovich, and UNGov overall. His security forces had done an excellent job of seeking out and terminating potential extremists among the population, preventing any from achieving dangerous levels of power. But now he faced a true revolutionary leader, one with an army behind him…the best, most experienced army in existence. All Samovich could do was wait…and see what Taylor did next. And prepare for the greatest test he had ever faced.

  He thought of the troops stationed on the Portal worlds, idle, the Tegeri gone, Taylor’s forces long moved on. God, he needed those soldiers. The pragmatist in him wanted to recall them all, divide them up, use them to leaven his raw units. But the autocrat screamed back. No, they may not have joined Taylor, but they are still suspect. There were good reasons for UNGov’s policy against allowing veterans to return to Earth, and they applied doubly to forces that had encountered Taylor and his army, soldiers who knew thousands of their former comrades marched with Taylor. No, he couldn’t take the risk, couldn’t allow his forces to be infiltrated by thousands of men who could be rebel sympathizers.

  He stared down at his desk for a moment, an idea beginning to form, a very dark one. Yes, he thought, of course. I can’t take the risk of bringing those men home, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be useful, very useful indeed.

  “Get me Alexi Drogov…immediately. I have a very important mission for him.”

  Chapter 4

  From the Writings of T’arza, Elder of House Setai:

  The humans’ great tragedy is almost upon them. Taylor has rallied many of his people to his banner, and his army stands now on the brink of returning to their homeworld, to fight the final battle with the masters who rule mankind. Though I cherish peace above all things, the warrior blood of my ancestors burns hot now, calling to me the battle, to stand at my friend’s side during his great test. But alas, I cannot. As a Tegeri, I would only damage Taylor’s cause, fuel his enemy’s propaganda. To the vast majority of his people, I am a bloodthirsty murderer, a monster from an alien world, come to bring death and destruction to humanity. It is a lie, of course, a vicious fabrication, but the truth can only spread with Taylor’s victory, and there is little I can do to influence that. All that could be done has been. We have supplied his forces, though we have provided them only weaponry at or near their technology level, nothing that would appear out of place, or fuel suspicions of my peoples’ involvement.

  The war with the humans is over, at least for the Tegeri. We have pulled back from every contested Portal world, withdrawn all of our forces from any point of contact. This action was not without risk, as it opens the way for the human forces to advance ever farther into the Portal network, even to threaten Homeworld itself. But this danger is not the worst we face, nor is Taylor’s advance the only reason for our withdrawal. For the Darkness, the enemy spoken of in the texts left behind by the Ancients, is again coming, and it brings death and destruction in its wake. It is the true enemy, the foe the humans and Tegeri were meant to face together, save for the terrible historical tragedy that forced us to war with the beings we should call brothers.

  We withdrew our armies from their blood-soaked battlefields, taking advantage of the confusion caused by Taylor’s rebellion, but for the New Ones and Tegeri who fought on those worlds there will be little rest, little peace. For they must prepare to face the Darkness, and somehow defeat the great evil that long ago destroyed the Ancients, the wise and mighty race that built the Portals so long ago.

  The fate of the humans lies in Taylor’s hands, as does our ultimate victory or defeat against the Darkness. For if he fails, we will have no choice but to destroy Earth, lest we face enemies on two fronts and fall, as the Ancients did ages ago. And yet, even the monstrous crime of destroying our own human brethren is unlikely to save us. The Ancients foretold that our two races together could stand where they had fallen and defeat the great enemy. But alone my people have little chance. What power have we ourselves to face that which destroyed our forefathers, the Ancients, beings who strode across the stars almost as gods?

  Indeed, it is not only the fate of his own people that lies in Taylor’s hands…it is ours as well, and that of all the Other Races the Ancients planted, our young brethren only now grasping weakly toward civilization. To them we are the elders, and even as our race wanes and slips away, we are all that stands between them and utter doom. If we are to be destroyed, so then so shall they be. And in all the galaxy there shall be naught but silence and death.

  “The troop withdrawals will be complete in five more cycles of the sun. By the next solar phase, all forces previously deployed against the humans will be massed on Alantria, awaiting orders to move to the frontier and deploy against the Darkness. The forces withdrawn from the struggles on the Portal worlds have been reequipped with high tech weaponry. Combined with the newest reserves, there are over two million New Ones now under arms, awaiting the command to depart.” T’arza spoke softly, but his voice carried solemn authority. He was the elder of a great house, a member of the Council…and the Tegeri elder selected as liaison with the Chosen, the human selected by the Council to lead the rebellion against the Earth government. The Council had long debated how to end the war with the humans, to obtain peace and reunite with their brother race and prepare to face the Darkness. It was T’arza of the Setai who suggested they seek out a single contact, a human with the strength of character and intelligence to lead a rebellion.

  Since the day T’arza approached Jake Taylor on the world Taylor’s people called Erastus, he
had spent much of his time among humans, and he was now the Tegeri who best knew his peoples’ enigmatic brother race. He had been a Tegeri of noble rank, and the patriarch of his house, but now T’arza was the most important member of his race and, in many ways, he carried on his shoulders the fate not only of the Tegeri, but of all the legacy of the Ancients.

  “And,” T’arza continued, “on Ghasara, Taylor and his soldiers stand beside the Portal leading back to Earth. The final campaign to liberate the humans homeworld is about to begin.”

  “We thank you for your words, T’arza, and for your tireless efforts. Your wisdom and dedication are an example for all.” The First of the Council spoke slowly, gravely. He was ancient, even by the long-lived standards of the Tegeri, and he was frail and weak. Still, he rose slowly, clearly with tremendous effort, and he looked down the great council table. “I rise, T’arza of the Setai, in tribute to you, and I bid all of the Council to follow me. You have acquitted yourself with the honor and wisdom we have all come to expect from you. What hope we have, it flows from your work. I now name you Oritai, honored of your people. Henceforth, you shall wear the white robe, that all who see you might know of your deeds.”

  The others had risen at the behest of the First, and now they gazed upon T’arza, and as one they slapped their hands on the table, signaling their agreement by acclamation.

  T’arza nodded somberly. He was not one to seek praise and, in truth, though he appreciated the One’s words, the attention being lavished upon him made him uncomfortable. But the designation as Oritai was one of his peoples’ greatest honors, one he knew he must accept with grace and humility.

  “I thank you all for that that you have given me this day. You humble me, my brethren. I can answer only with my most solemn promise that I shall continue to do what must be done, whatever that may be.”

  The Tegeri nobles continued pounding on the table for another moment. Then the First sat down, followed by the others. When all had taken their seats, T’arza then sat, as custom demanded. Then he spoke, “Again, my thanks to you, First, and to all of you.” A short pause. “But now I propose we return to the business at hand. We have much to discuss, much to decide.”

  “You speak truth, T’arza. Where would you have us begin?” The First looked at T’arza with hazy, clouded eyes.

  “I would look first to Taylor. I would have us consider one final time if there is any way we can support his cause, any effort we have not made?”

  “I believe we have done all for Taylor and his people that we can.” C’tar spoke from the far end of the table, his ancient voice still strong as he spoke from the far end of the table. The Grandmaster of the Seminary was the oldest of his race, and his wisdom was respected and heeded by all Tegeri. He had been the first to speak out, to declare that if Taylor’s quest failed, the Tegeri would have to destroy the humans. And he had backed T’arza when the leader of House Setai proposed launching an attack on Oceania to interdict the human supply lines when Taylor’s forces were heavily engaged on Juno. Indeed, the respite that action created had been key to Taylor’s victory, and the Tegeri intervention had not been connected to the human dispute.

  “We have provided weapons and ammunition, all copied from their own technology, with what enhancements we could make. We have also supplied shelters, food, medicines. Indeed, we have risked as much as we dare, for even what we have given Taylor is beyond anything his people could have provided for themselves. Our support is clear, though not in an obvious way that would feed the Earth government’s propaganda efforts. Were we to go any further, for example to supply weapons clearly beyond Earth technology, it is likely we would do more harm than good to Taylor. However well supplied he may be, he must win the hearts and support of a large number of his people. Were we to allow the Earth government any proof of our involvement, we would give them the tools to turn all mankind against Taylor. We cannot take such a chance.”

  C’tar turned toward T’arza. “You know this, Oritai, master of the Setai, yet your concern for Taylor keeps you from true acceptance. It does you credit, yet now you must allow your friend to play his role in this great drama…and trust to his abilities. And it is time for us to turn our full attention to the approaching Darkness, before it is too late.”

  T’arza paused, returning the Grandmaster’s gaze. Finally, he simply nodded and said, “You speak truth, wise C’tar, as always.” He paused briefly, turning to look down the table at his fellow Council members. “We have done all we can for Taylor. His path is now his own. C’tar speaks wisdom. We must look to our preparations against the Darkness, prepare for the great struggle to come.”

  He hesitated again, his gaze dropping to the table. Finally, he looked up again and said, “And we must place our faith in Taylor, trust in his resolve and his abilities. We must believe he will free mankind…and that he will lead them to our aid. Before it is too late.”

  Chapter 5

  From Jake Taylor’s Address to the Army of Liberation:

  Soldiers! Men of the Army of Liberation! We have come far. Some of you have marched with me from the beginning, others have joined us along the way. But none of that matters now. For now we stand on the brink of our final struggle. It is time to liberate our homeworld, time to erase the terrible stain the horror of UNGov has left on human history. And in this battle to come we are all brothers, comrades in arms…no longer men of Force Erastus or Force Juno or Force Phillos. We are the Army of Liberation, each of us sworn to do whatever must be done to destroy the great evil that rules Earth.

  I envisioned this moment years ago, when I first left the blasted hell of Erastus, but even then, determined as I was, I could not foresee this gathering, so many noble soldiers, 70,000 warriors ready to take on a world! We cannot know what will happen after we march through that Portal. We may be divided into different groups, scattered around the globe. But whatever missions await us, whatever battles and struggles you may be called upon to face, know that I am with each of you. Always.

  Go forth, my soldiers. Face the foe with the honor and strength you have shown in all things. Know always that our cause is just, that we fight to destroy a great evil…and restore freedom to our families and people. I will not lie and tell you our task is easy, nor that it will not be costly. Many will die, perhaps most of us. But we will prevail. Whatever it takes.

  Whatever it takes.

  It was cold. Damned cold.

  Karl Young had served more than ten years on Erastus, and in that time his body had thoroughly adapted to the brutal conditions there. The soldiers who’d left the planet they called Gehenna along with Jake Taylor took with them that conditioning, the lower hydration and wiry, muscular frames of men who’d marched thousands of kilometers in the blow torch heat of that nightmare world. It had been years now, and Young and his comrades had adapted yet again. When he’d first left Erastus, even a cool breeze on a temperate world cut through him like a knife. He remembered lying on his cot, wrapped in as many coverings as he could find yet still shivering uncontrollably. But he’d gradually adapted to cooler temperatures, and even to the cold, stinging rains they’d encountered on more than one planet. He’d seen worlds where a brief shower dropped more precipitation than Gehenna’s deserts saw in a year. But none of that had prepared him for the icy blasts of the Siberian winter.

  “My God,” he said, struggling to control the shivering long enough to get his words out clearly. “What frozen hell is this?”

  “It’s a Russian winter, sir. It’s thwarted more than one invasion before. Napoleon, Hitler…my grandfather used to tell me the stories when I was young.” There was something in the statement, the slightest flash of patriotic pride, perhaps. The terminus from Ghasara was located in the northern wastes of eastern Russia, an almost uninhabited wasteland of deep frozen lakes and endless snow-covered steppes. Ivan Stokaya was Russian, like over half the troops that had come through the Portal with Young. Or at least his parents had been born Russian—technically, Stokaya had
been a citizen of UNGov’s universal state his entire life. But for all UNGov’s efforts to eradicate connections to the old nation states and their varied cultures and histories, vestiges stubbornly remained.

  The few people that had lived in the area had long been rounded up by UNGov and moved to more centralized areas. Earth’s government preferred to have its citizens living where they were more easily watched, and few of the planet’s wastes were more remote and inaccessible than the frozen tundra of northeastern Russia. But UNGov didn’t know there was a Portal terminus in this frozen waste, and their efforts to depopulate the region had inadvertently created an ideal entry point for Taylor’s army, one overlooked even by UNGov’s network of spy satellites.

  Indeed, the Portal was in a perfect location to transit without being detected, which was one reason why the army had gone to Ghasara. The Tegeri maps of the Portal network had offered other opportunities—there were many Portals on Earth that UNGov had yet to discover—but this northern wasteland was preferable to an exit point buried deep below the Earth or at the bottom of an ocean.

  Young fastened the hook at the top of his parka, and then he reached down and slid his hands into the heavy gloves that had been hooked to his belt. The Tegeri had supplied Taylor’s people with cold weather gear, and now Young knew why.

  “Well, let’s hope we don’t add to that list, Captain.” Young stamped his feet, moving around trying to get warm, but all he could feel was wave after wave of biting cold. He looked up at Stokaya, his eyes tearing from the bitter wind, lashes sparkling as the moisture froze almost immediately. “Is everyone through?”

  “Yes, sir. All troops have transited. They are awaiting your orders.”