He gritted his teeth as he saw an alien fall, right in front of him; there were always more, pushing forward despite the fire. The aliens howled and chanted - he assumed they were prayers - as they closed in, seeking revenge for what the Marines had done. Percy shot alien after alien, but the pressure was slowly forcing the Marines back. Why weren't they breaking? Were they so fanatical they could soak up thousands of casualties and just keep going?
“Pull back to the inner line,” Hadfield ordered. “The mortars will cover your retreat.”
“Aye, sir,” Percy said. The ground shook as mortar shells landed amidst the aliens, blowing them into bloody chunks. But there were always more aliens, while he knew all too well that they were running short of mortar rounds. And everything else. They could slice the aliens apart ... until they ran out of ammunition. “We’re on our way.”
A pause seemed to descend on the battlefield as the Marines fell back. Percy allowed himself a moment to hope that the aliens had had enough, that thousands - tens of thousands - of deaths had been enough to convince them to back off, or turn on their leaders. But a quick glance at the live feed from the drones killed his hope before it could fully blossom into life. The aliens were merely regrouping, despite the persistent sniper fire that killed their commanders and priests as they identified themselves. It dawned on Percy, suddenly, that the God-King had hurled the expendable units into battle first. He’d wanted them purged and the Marines had done it for him.
He must be out of his mind, Percy thought, darkly. How many of his loyal followers are going to die today?
But perhaps that was what the God-King wanted, he added, in the privacy of his own mind. The empire the God-King had built wouldn't last long, not without the Russians backing it up. Ivan had made that clear; the God-King was powerful, but it was the Russians who had given him a decisive advantage. His conquests would rise up against him, once they realised the Russians were gone. But if the God-King crushed the British, even at staggering cost, he might be able to keep his subjects too afraid to rebel.
“We have only a handful of mortar shells left,” Peerce said, when the Marines regrouped at the inner defence line. “And not much Russian crap to put into battle either.”
“Shit,” Percy said. The Russians hadn't had enough weapons to make a real difference, much to his surprise, although they’d spent quite a bit trying to keep the Royal Marines out of their compound. They had always relied upon orbital fire to keep the natives in line. It was the same pattern they’d used on Earth, but they’d always had more ground troops on Earth too.
He took a breath. “The shuttles?”
“Not going to be here in time,” Hadfield said. “And we don’t have enough bullets left to keep fighting for long.”
Percy nodded. Vesy was a strange place to fight and die, he figured, but there was no alternative. Besides, his father had died fighting to protect humanity from the Tadpoles. His son could do no less. He thought briefly of Penny, who would be left all alone on Earth, then remembered his girlfriend. Maybe she would find someone else, after he was gone. He hoped she would be happy ...
“Make sure you hold the line as long as you can,” Hadfield added. “I want to make sure we gore the God-King badly, if we die here. Let one of his enemies overthrow him once his forces are gone.”
“Yes, sir,” Percy said.
The trumpets blared. Percy turned to watch as the aliens began their second advance. This time, their tactics were better; one group rushed forward, while another covered their advance, then waited for the first group to cover them before advancing themselves. The God-King must have sent in his best men, Percy decided, as the Marines opened fire. They were spread out too, making it harder for the mortars to make a serious impact. Maybe these were the ones the Russians had trained personally.
“Hold the line as long as you can,” Hadfield said, quietly.
The aliens kept coming, hurling makeshift grenades towards the human lines as they advanced. Percy opened fire with the rest of his section, knowing there just weren't enough humans to hold the line for very long. He briefly considered suggesting rearming the Russians, but dismissed that thought in an instant. The Russians couldn’t be trusted not to shoot the Marines in the back, while the women had no time to learn how to shoot. Instead, all he could do was hold the line as best as he could.
A line of aliens charged forward, covered by their comrades. Percy muttered a curse, then led the fire team forward and lashed into the aliens with his armoured fists. Blood and gore went flying as he smashed through the aliens, then he cursed as the next group of aliens started hurling makeshift grenades. A red light flashed up in his HUD as Private Willis died; an alien had caught him, then detonated all the grenades on his body at once, causing an explosion powerful enough to tear through the suit. Another Marine followed him into death, while a third was wounded. His suit sealed itself automatically, but it was clear - far too clear - that he would need medical attention immediately. It wouldn't be forthcoming.
A final hail of explosions tore through the advancing enemy, then stopped. “The mortars are dry,” Peerce said. “I say again, the mortars are dry.”
Percy cursed as the aliens redoubled their efforts, forcing the Marines back. There would no longer be anything impeding the aliens from sending their men into combat ... he braced himself, preparing to issue orders for a final stand. New icons popped up in front of him, warning that almost all of his remaining men were running out of ammunition. 1 Section wasn't in any better state, even if they’d had time to borrow ammunition from them. They were about to die ...
And then the ground shook violently as fire descended from heaven. The entire compound heaved - he saw a building cave in on itself - as brilliant flashes of light rose up from outside the shattered walls. Suddenly, the alien advanced faltered, then stopped. The ground shook again and again as the final aliens were wiped out. Percy stared, only slowly realising what had happened. The ship had returned!
“Secure the area,” Hadfield ordered. Outside, great plumes of smoke were rising up from the fields. “We’ll have more ammunition sent down momentarily.”
“Aye, sir,” Percy said. Hastings said nothing. It took him a moment to realise that Hastings was dead. “I’ll see to it at once.”
The only thing costlier than a battle lost, the Duke of Wellington had said years ago, is a battle won.
Percy had never understood what he’d meant. The saying had always seemed odd to him. But now, looking at the devastated battleground, he thought he understood perfectly. They’d won, yet they’d still taken hideous losses ...
... And it might not be over yet.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“What a mess,” John muttered, as the shuttle dropped down towards the remains of the Russian compound. “What a fucking mess.”
He braced himself as the shuttle touched down, then breathed in alien air as the hatch hissed open. Doctor Stewart and his assistants scrambled out at once, carrying pallets of supplies with them as they made their way towards the makeshift infirmary; John followed them at a more sedate pace. The scene that greeted him was one of utter devastation. Hundreds of wooden buildings had collapsed, while dozens of craters had formed around the compound, where the KEWs had landed. And there were thousands of alien bodies, lying everywhere.
My God, he thought. The natives had been completely unprepared for human weapons and technology. They couldn't have anticipated the sheer level of slaughter the Russians, and then the British, had unleashed. What have we done?
“Captain,” Lieutenant Hadfield said. The Marine looked tired and worn, but confident. “I bid you welcome to Fort Knight.”
John was too tired himself to smile. He should have rested - and Richards had urged him to rest - but he’d refused to sleep until he’d had a chance to assess the situation on the ground for himself. The desperate race back from the tramline, pushing Warspite to the limit, had almost been lost. An alien race so primitive that it had barely be
gun to work iron had almost wiped out his entire complement of Marines, as well as several hundred civilians and Russian captives. And now ... now he had a hell of a mess to sort out.
“This place is largely indefensible now,” Hadfield said, as they walked into the compound. “I had the natives take the bodies away - they’re going to bury them all in a pit - but we don’t have time to rebuild the walls or the other defences. The Russians made so many enemies that we can expect someone else to have a go at us, soon enough.”
John nodded. “Can we move the civilians to a safer location?”
“I think we don’t have much choice, sir,” Hadfield said. “Vesper, according to the Russians, is beyond salvation. They were going to launch her into the sun, once they’d finished stripping her of anything useful. We’d need a transport to move everyone from Vesy to Cromwell.”
“Shit,” John said. In order to keep the humans safe, Warspite would have to remain in orbit; in order to move the humans to another location, Warspite would have to return to Pegasus and summon one of the freighters to Vesy. Catch-22. “We can deploy some automated KEW systems, but not much else.”
“We’ve located a number of uninhabited islands,” Hadfield said. “I was thinking we could use the shuttles to move the civilians there, then Warspite can return to Pegasus and borrow a freighter at leisure. However, we’ve run into something of a problem.”
John looked at him. “A problem? Another problem?”
“Yes, sir,” Hadfield said. “The Vesy have captured a number of Russians. They don’t want to give them up and ... well, they want the rest of the Russians too.”
“I see,” John said. “What for?”
“Technological help, I think,” Hadfield said. “And perhaps to put them on trial.”
John rubbed his tired forehead. There would be enough people with a claim on the Russians, by the time the World Court considered the case, to make it hard to determine just who got the right to execute them. The Vesy, at least, had a very good claim - and a reason to keep some Russians alive, if they were willing to work. And he wasn't sure he wanted to risk transporting the remaining Russians back to Earth. They would have to remain on Vesy anyway, at least until more ships arrived.
“I’ll have to think about it,” he said.
It wasn't going to be easy. He did have authority to make deals with aliens, but it was limited. No one had envisaged having to make an agreement with a primitive race. The assumption had always been that humanity would run into a peer power - a second peer power, he supposed. In hindsight, it was understandable. A primitive race could not have posed a threat to Warspite, even if they had been aware of her. But the Russians had made contact, leaving an awful mess in their wake.
“Their leader would also like to speak with you,” Hadfield said. “I believe he wishes to negotiate with our commanding officer personally.”
“Very well,” John said. “Take me to their leader.”
Hadfield smiled, then led him to one of the few surviving buildings. A number of Russians, their hands and feet shackled, were helping to clear up the mess, watched by a pair of armed and armoured Marines. They looked torn between fear and relief, John noted; the doom they’d feared had finally overwhelmed them, yet they were also free of their leader. The General had come alarmingly close to blowing up the whole compound. And wouldn't that have put the reporter among the politicians?
Inside, an alien was standing near the door, studying a mural one of the Russians had painted on the wall. John sucked in his breath sharply as he saw the alien - he’d met Tadpoles, in the past, but this alien was close enough to humanity to be considerably more disconcerting - and then nodded politely. He had no idea just what the aliens considered polite, he realised, as he sat down at the table, beside one of the Marines. He’d never had to handle a diplomatic meeting before, yet if he had, he knew he wouldn’t have been better prepared.
“This is the leader of a Vesy faction,” the Marine said. “The Russians called him Ivan.”
“I thank you, in the name of my people, for your assistance,” Ivan said. The Marine translated from Russian to English. “It is of the future I wish to speak to you now.”
John nodded, again. “I thank you for your assistance,” he said. He cursed mentally as he realised he didn't know what to say. “I look forward to a long and fruitful relationship between your people and mine.”
The alien, thankfully, didn't beat around the bush. “We have a number of the ... Russians ... prisoner,” Ivan said. “They have volunteered to remain with us. We would like the remainder of the Russians to be handed over to us too.”
John frowned. If humans had trouble telling the aliens apart, it was quite likely the aliens had the same trouble with humanity. It was easy to imagine that they’d captured some of the missing women and children, in the honest belief they’d caught a handful of Russians. And the captives would be too fearful to hint they wanted to escape ...
“We came to recover some of our missing people,” he said. “We will want to see your captives first, just so we know who you have.”
“That would be understandable,” the alien said. “And the other Russians?”
John looked down at his hands. The Russians were doomed if they returned to Earth, he knew - and they would know it too. Someone would win the right to execute them, probably their own government. Maybe, just maybe, they could start to make up for what they'd done on Vesy.
“We will offer the remaining Russians the choice between remaining with you or returning home,” John said. It would have a major effect on the planet’s stability, he was sure, but secrets like gunpowder had already leaked. For better or worse, no one would be able to put the genie back in the bottle. “If they wish to join you, they will be allowed to do so.”
“That would be acceptable,” Ivan said. “And their mates?”
“They will be offered the same deal,” John said. God alone knew what would happen to the women, the ones who had fallen in love with the Russians. If they wanted to stay behind, did he have the legal right to remove them by force? “But if they refuse to stay, we won’t force them to stay.”
“That would also be acceptable,” Ivan stated. “Now, there is also the issue of military support against the God-King.”
John groaned, inwardly. He had legal authority to take whatever steps were necessary to safeguard British lives and property, but none whatsoever to intervene in local affairs. It was possible he could justify it as a defensive measure, after the God-King had attacked the Marines, yet the Admiralty might not buy his explanation. There were going to be enough problems after news of the whole affair reached Earth, no matter what else happened. It was quite possible he’d find himself facing a Court Martial for breaching the Non-Interference Edict. In politics, someone had to take the blame ... and the Russian CO was dead.
But, at the same time, didn't they have a moral obligation to help Ivan?
And by the time I get orders from Earth, he thought, the whole issue would be settled, one way or the other.
“There is a limit to what we can provide,” he said, slowly. “What sort of assistance would you require?”
“The Russians provided hammers from heaven,” Ivan said. It took John a moment to realise he meant KEWs. “Can you provide the same?”
“For a while,” John said. “But not for long.”
They fell to haggling. After nearly an hour of heated discussion, John agreed to provide KEW support for a week, which would also give him time to set up a small settlement well away from the Vesy. Their great lakes held any number of isolated islands that could serve as a base, at least for the moment. Once the remaining humans were moved there, Warspite could return to Pegasus.
“Very well,” Ivan said, afterwards. “I thank you.”
“I thank you too,” John said. He wondered how long that would remain true. There was a very good chance of a Court Martial in his future. “And I wish you the very best of luck in the future.”
> He wondered, absently, just what would happen to Ivan. The alien could regain his throne, then ... then, what? Set up links with human traders and attempt to boost his people forward? Or try to ban human technology, in the hopes of avoiding social change? But it was unlikely to work. Gunpowder was far from the only genie that could never be stuffed back into the bottle. The Russians had tried to introduce so many ideas that the Vesy would be able to start moving forward in leaps and bounds, once they had a chance to relax and assimilate what they’d been told.
But, in the end, he knew he would just have to wait and see.
***
“Are you serious about this, Corporal?”
“Yes, sir,” Percy said.
“You’re requesting a transfer to Vesy,” Hadfield said. “Never mind that you’re effectively the First Corporal. Never mind that there will be promotion in your immediate future. Never mind ... you’re requesting a transfer.”
“Yes, sir,” Percy said, again.
[Ark Royal 04] - Warspite Page 40