by Nate Johnson
He’d never again feel the cool wind on a summer’s night. He’d never get a chance to take Alicia to that valley or drink a beer after a long march. So much he’d never get to do.
Finally, by some unspoken agreement, the aliens began to move forward. Single soldiers at first, then the dam burst and the mass of Scraggs began to charge towards them. No visceral screams, no bugle, no rebel yell of charge. Just the eerie thud of thousands of alien feet thumping the dirt.
Sighing, he turned to his men and yelled. “Give them hell.”
Immediately, his men began to fire. Taking their time, trying to make sure every shot counted.
Dex held is fire, watching. At first, there was little impact, but then slowly, aliens began to fall. A few at first, but then more as his men found the range. But it wasn’t going to be enough. There was just too damn many of them.
Gritting his teeth, he shouldered his rifle and joined them.
Blue lasers beams sought targets, burning into the sandbag wall or whizzing by over their head.
The first of his targets fell. Shot through the neck. Dex twisted to the side, searching for any kind of leader. But they all looked the same to him. Sighing, he pulled the trigger and another Scragg died.
The Marines, his Marines, had slowed the advance. Not enough, but a little. Too many aliens were falling, tripping up their comrades coming up behind them. But the advance moved ever forward.
He continued to fire until he emptied the clip. Ducking down, he swapped magazines, dropping the empty one, rising up and firing. A beam caught him square in the faceplate. He shifted before the light could do any damage.
Dex quickly finished his second, and then his third clip. Slamming his fourth magazine home, he drew a bead on the first Alien to reach the trench. Letting out a bit of breath, he squeezed and the monster fell. But he was immediately replaced by another, and then another.
The trench was filled with Scragg bodies. The new ones would be able to walk across them like stepping on a log flow.
Sighing, he continued to fire. A small scream next to him told him that Private Hart had fallen. Shifting, he didn’t take time to check on him. They couldn’t afford to stop. The slightest hesitation and the aliens would break through.
Finishing another clip, he dropped to start refilling magazines. it seemed that within minutes, he’d gone through all he had and needed to refill them.
Ammunition cans had been placed along the wall for just this eventuality. Each packed with spare rounds.
As he reached for the individual bullets, a slight hand shoved a full magazine into his.
Alicia, her eyes as big as a Montlake moon looked up at him before she quickly grabbed another magazine and started pushing spare rounds into it.
Dex glanced down the wall. All of the civilians were kneeling behind the Marines, frantically filling magazines. Middle-aged women kneeling in the dirt. Young boys frantically trying to shove bullets into black magazines. Handing out the prizes to the Marines so they could keep fighting.
His men weren’t having to stop firing, they could keep up a steady rate. He rose up and glanced over the front of his wall. The same was happening there.
Reaching out he grabbed Alicia’s shoulder. “It’s time,” he said. “You need to go.”
She looked back at him for just a brief second and shook her head. “Not yet,” she said.
He let out a long breath and shook his head. Damn it, he thought as he rose up and began firing.
Still, they came forward towards him. But the constant resupply of ammunition was making a difference. The Scraggs were having problems getting past the trench. Firing, he smiled to himself. His men were making them pay. Every dead alien was one less alien to attack General Smyth. It wouldn’t be enough to stop them. But it was something.
Reaching down without taking his eyes from the field, he let Alicia slip him another magazine. He shoved it into his rifle and took aim.
A loud gasp from the woman next to him drew his attention. Stephan had grabbed a rifle and was aiming it down range. Her brother had to stand on the tips of his toes to see over the wall. His young face set in concentration.
“Get down,” Dex yelled as he reached over and pushed the kids below the wall just as a blue laser beam streaked through the space he had just been occupying.
The boy looked up at him, furious at being pulled out of the fight.
“You don’t have armor,” Dex yelled. “You’re no good to me dead. Help your sister.”
Dex could see the boy fighting with himself, but at last, he nodded and started loading magazines.
Before returning to firing, Dex took a moment to examine his lines. The front wall was getting hurt bad. Eleven or twelve of his men were down. Only ten more were up and firing. The back wall was little better. Thirteen or fourteen men were still fighting.
Smith had grabbed a second rifle and was firing them both at the same time. Just sending slugs down range. Anything to try and stop the bastards.
Shaking his head, Dex began to tell Alicia to leave, when a sudden alien surge broke through the massive fire and reached the front wall.
Screaming at the top of his lungs, Dex shifted to full auto as he tried to stop them. But it was too much. As the monsters died, the Scraggs stepped onto their dead comrades, using them as stools to reach over the wall and try to grab his Marines.
Bayonets flashed, rifle stocks bashed alien heads, but still they came.
This was it, he thought as two of the beasts finally got over the first wall and started wrestling with his men. As Dex dropped one, two more slithered over the top.
Swallowing hard, he continued to fire, but the wave was just too big, it couldn’t be stopped.
Amidst the yelling and cursing and screams of pain, a distant boom caught his attention but he pushed it aside and continued to fire. His heart raced, his eyes stung with sweat and his mind whirled with the fear of defeat.
A second, third, and fourth boom echoed off the canyon walls. Where had he heard that before? he wondered as he dropped another Scragg trying to pull the rifle out of Corporal Obamway’s hands.
Sonic booms, he thought, as he took aim. That was where he heard it before. Then, as if out of nowhere, the village street exploded. Followed almost immediately by three more explosions.
A mixture of dirt, Scraggs, and wood was tossed into the air with each explosion. What the hell? His brow narrowed as he stopped firing to figure out what was going on.
Within ten seconds, another four more explosions erupted. Each of them leaving a twenty-foot circle in the middle of the street and dozens of dead Scraggs in their wake. That was the thing about tossing a creature twenty-feet into the air. It didn’t matter if you had armor or not. If the concussion didn’t kill you. The fall would. It’d turn your insides into jelly.
“The Navy,” he whispered to himself, unable to believe what he was seeing. The Navy had arrived. He would know what their rounds looked like in his sleep. Twenty-four-pound shots hitting the ground at thousands of miles per hour. Hitting with such force that everything was ripped into small pieces. A permanent meteor shower focused on the main street of Drake’s Rift.
Another four shots struck in the middle of the Scraggs.
“Yes!” he yelled as he watched his enemies die.
Still, the Scraggs in front continued to try and get over the wall. Some made it. But there was no longer the push behind them.
Dex quickly scanned the battlefield. Four more rounds hit the mob. The Navy was firing so fast that the dirt and body parts couldn’t come to rest before they were thrown back up into the air with the next explosion.
He was drawn to a distant Scragg standing in the far back, his face tilted up, looking into the sky.
“That’s right, you bastard,” Dex yelled. “That’s the Imperial Navy up there. And you are dead, you just don’t know it yet.”
The distant Scragg turned to run. Dex felt a great sense of victory. Finally, they were …
The world stopped, as his worst nightmare began. Taking a quick breath to calm himself. He held his rifle barrel to the beast’s head and pulled the trigger. The soldiers head exploded, showering Alicia and himself with blood and bone.
Dex quickly threw up his faceplate and gave her a look, silently asking if she was alright. She stared back at him, her eyes big and frightened. But underneath, he saw a steely determination as she wiggled to get out from beneath her dead captor. Giving him a reassuring smile.
Grinning from ear to ear, he looked out over the field and froze. They were falling back. At first, a slow retreat as they backed up, still firing, then, as more explosion occurred, the monsters turned and ran.
Dex sighed heavily as he laid his forehead on the wall in front of him. They had done it. They had survived.
His men froze for a moment. They too were in as much shock as the Scraggs. To go from certain death to victory was overwhelming. Then the new reality sank in and the men began to fire down range at the fleeing enemy.
Their anger and bloodlust taking over as they viciously tried to kill every last Scragg they could before the bastards changed their mind and returned.
Dex held his fire, instead, he watched his men take out the fleeing monsters. Slowly, his body began to shake as the adrenaline took over and had nowhere left to go. Grabbing the top of the wall, he held on and let the fear and joy and pain and terror and anger wash through him.
Pulling himself back to his responsibility, he watched as over a thousand Scraggs made it out of the village and out of range of his men. The Navy shots continued to follow them, pushing them further and further away. The Navy and his men had eliminated two-thirds of the attacking force. Bodies and body parts littered the ground. Half the village buildings had been demolished. Perfect round twenty-foot holes pocketed the main street. In fact, none of the original flat dirt road remained. There were only holes and dead Scraggs.
Reaching down, he pulled Alicia and Stephan up to the wall so they could see. They deserved to see this. Looking down the line of his men, he saw the other civilians stepping up onto the bench so that they could watch the destruction of their enemy.
Turning back to the front, he watched the Scraggs continue to run. A mob fleeing a riot. His heart fell when he thought about them regrouping and making another attack. If the Navy pulled out, he and his men would still be destroyed.
The Navy though, being the Navy, had a plan.
The mob of Scraggs had reached the crest of the far hill when four rounds exploded across the top. As if saying, this far, and no farther. Every Scragg slid to a stop, the mob becoming one entity as it frantically searched for a safe exit.
The Navy gunners refused to provide such an exit. They started laying down projectiles around the mob. Each one throwing up a geyser of dirt and bushes. Each one telling them, you are surrounded, don’t go this way.
The mob churned and pushed at each other, but they refused to venture beyond the ring of death established by the Navy.
Dex took a deep breath, holding it as he watched. Would it work? Would these bastards be smart enough to surrender?
And then it happened. A lone Scragg soldier figured it out. Twisting, he threw his rifle as far away from himself as he could. The other soldiers looked at him, then at the next eruption of ground forty feet away and followed suit.
It was like a school of fish coming to the same decision at the same time, it rippled through the crowd until ever last weapon had been discarded out of the ring.
Dex shivered with relief. The Navy, the damn, beautiful Navy.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Admiral McKenzie chewed the inside of his mouth as he waited. A habit he had conquered years before only to return at the apex of his life. Holding his breath, he waited for the report.
“Sir,” the captain of the Reliance began, “the attack at Drake’s Rift has been stopped. That’s it. That’s the last of them.”
A cheer erupted in the Command Center. Admiral McKenzie slumped into his chair. He glanced over at Janet who shot him a big smile. Smiling back, he nodded and told the Reliance skipper job well done.
Turning away from the destroyer’s commander, he started going down the list in his mind. What next.
“Commander Evans,” he said, “any word from the Viceroy?”
“Yes, Sir, we’re just now establishing a link. It should be connected in just a second.”
The admiral nodded as he studied his screen and waited. At last it flickered and Admiral Jacob’s old, craggy, wrinkled, face appeared.
“Mac,” the old man said. “You’ve done it. Great work.”
Admiral McKenzie’s shoulders slumped with relief. If the old man was smiling then life couldn’t be bad. He was a natural curmudgeon, if he was pleased, then life was truly good.
“Sir,” Admiral McKenzie replied, “thank you. What are you doing here?”
No use beating around the bush. Jacobs didn’t go in for small talk.
It took a second for the signal to get to the ship and their reply back to the Churchill. McKenzie held his breath while he waited.
Admiral Jacob’s face dropped his smile and turned very serious. “I tried to stop him. But he insisted. Said he’d fire me if I didn’t let him come.”
“Hello, Admiral McKenzie,” the Emperor said as he came on a second screen. “I wish to echo Admiral Jacobs’ compliments. You have done it. A thousand years from now, they will be talking about this battle.”
Admiral McKenzie took a deep breath. This was what he had feared. It wasn’t like he didn’t have enough problems already, but the Emperor was here. Frantically, he juggled a dozen different issues in his mind trying to foresee any way that the Emperor’s safety could be put in danger.
“Sir …” he began, careful he reminded himself. The Emperor might be willing to hear harsh truths. But he was still the Emperor.
“Sir,” he began again, “this is still an active combat zone. We have not secured all of the Scragg ships. One of them might be able to reconstitute itself and attack.”
The Emperor slowly shook his head. “I am willing to live with the risk. Besides, we received the report from the Reliance, the last of them are surrendering. You’ve done it. You’ve won.”
Admiral McKenzie sighed heavily. This was a battle he was not going to win.
“Besides,” the Emperor said whit a big smile, “we are bringing you a present. You can tell Professor Sinclair we’ve got a translator. Well, sort of a pair of translators. An Eundai who can talk to the Scraggs. And a Professor Robinson who can translate what the Eundai tells him. It’s a hodgepodge, but I think it will work.”
Admiral McKenzie quickly glanced over at Janet, she was smiling from ear to ear, vigorously nodding. “I know him, he’s a top linguist.”
He could see that she was overjoyed at the prospect of communicating with the Scraggs. Her curiosity was eating at her, so many questions that needed to be answered.
Turning back to the screen, he nodded slowly, “I understand. But, Sir, it can wait, really.”
The Emperor shook his head, “I disagree, we don’t know what we are dealing with. Where are they from? How many of them are there? Do they have another fleet ready? How’d they created their own jump point? Can they do that anywhere? Is the rest of the Empire in danger? No Admiral, we can’t wait.”
Admiral McKenzie nodded. “Very well sir, I understand. But I must insist you give us time to organize, to make sure things are secure.”
The Emperor slowly shook his head. “We will be at Intrepid within twelve hours or so. That should be more than enough time. “
Admiral McKenzie ground his teeth in frustration. He’d just defeated an alien fleet, the most critical battle in the last two thou
sand years. Saved the human race. And now he was being ordered around like a midshipman. Damn, life wasn’t fair.
Taking a deep breath, he nodded and said, “Aye, aye, Sir.” His clipped voice letting the Emperor know that he wasn’t pleased.
The Emperor nodded his head, he didn’t care if the Admiral was pleased or not. He didn’t pay him to be pleased.
“We’ll sign off for now, let you get back to your job,” the Emperor said. “And again, you’ve done wonderfully, Admiral. You and your men have performed admirably, you should all be very proud.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Admiral McKenzie said, still not willing to admit that the Emperor was right about being there.
The Emperor smiled, Admiral Jacobs gave him a quick nod, then the screen flickered off as the connection was shut down.
Closing his eyes for a moment, he re-juggled his list of priorities, reviewing and re-analyzing things. Sighing, he called Commander Evans and Professor to his side.
“Jake,” he said to the commander, “I want you and the Professor to be in charge of the interrogations. I don’t want headquarters running the show. You two know more about these creatures than anyone in the galaxy, you take the lead.”
“Yes, Sir,” the commander said with a big smile.
“And Professor Sinclair, it looks like you will get your wish as well, but I think we’ll hold off until we get to Intrepid. I don’t want to stop and investigate the enemy ships. We’ll leave some destroyers to do that.”
She nodded, smiling as much as the commander.
He frowned as he thought of the hill in front of them. More like a mountain, really. So much to do.
Professor Sinclair, Janet, he reminded himself, reached out and gently touched his arm. “You did it, Mac. Sure, there are problems in front of us. But nothing like we faced just a few hours ago. Enjoy it. You deserve it.”
He smiled back at her and nodded. She was right, they had come so far, but at such a cost. Sighing, he nodded and turned back to his monitors. No need for them to see the sense of loss in his eyes. The legend of Admirals not having emotions must be maintained.