Karl found himself standing alone and staring into the devastated trench. Panic hit him that once again he'd have to fight his way back alone. He turned and crouched.
A tank launched itself over the trench and crunched to a stop. A speaker blared from the front. "Get in!"
Karl raced to the back and squeezed in through a half-open hatch. The tank took off. There was a massive hole in one corner and the whole tank shook like someone was smashing at it with hammers. Wounded lay on one side with a medic hovering over them. "Sweet Jesus!" he cried out.
An alien like nothing Karl had ever seen sat between two grim faced soldiers. One held a pistol to the alien's head, the other a stubby rifle to its stomach.
"Say hello to Richard!" the corporal with the rifle to the alien yelled. "So many Dicks, and so few Richards."
Karl leaned against the wall and shook his head. It was all too much. He broke down into sobs. "Thank you, thank you."
#
Chapter Thirty-Three
Vasilov System - Near Planet Orbit
The starship groaned in the changing gravity before finally quieting down. The Lokeen ship labored out from the gravity well as the drives pulsed and shuddered. The cloud streaked world of Vasilov Prime swirled beneath them with only sporadic strips of green poking through.
But no one board saw any of it.
Umi held on tight as the thrust tossed them from side-to-side. The room was in zero gravity now, with only the force of the trust keeping them down. His stomach rumbled and he kept the vomit down. Others around the room weren't so lucky. One man vomited, then a few others went off.
The "visitors" ward that the Lokeen had assigned them to was spartan, simple, more like a cargo area. There was no bathroom. No seats. No beds. Just a case of Colonial Issue emergency blankets and rations.
"Oh god." Kelly gagged.
The lights flickered and the gravity grew. It slowly pinned them back to the floor and the sound of retching halted. Umi stood on shaky legs and took a drink from a water bottle. It tasted like old metal.
"An old woman is putting you to shame," Lady Atli said. She walked across the hold and banged on the door. Tollefson ran after her and stood by her side.
"Where are you going?" Umi asked.
"Be damned if I'm going to wait like cargo. Sevel doesn't even know where we're going."
"Where are we going?" Umi asked.
"To visit the Ken-Tek and see what's inside that pendant."
"Yes," Umi said. "But where?"
Lady Atli turned and stood with her hands on her hips. She cocked her head and licked her lips. "We need to get it repaired by those who built it."
Umi set the water bottle onto a steel table. "Who would that be?"
"But first we need to, hmm." Lady Atli looked up at the ceiling. "Get it something."
"It?" Kelly Dell said.
The door creaked open and Sevel limped in. He reached out a hand and steadied himself against a bulkhead.
"Master Sevel," Lady said. She looked up to Sevel. "I am terribly sorry for your loss."
"Thank you, Lady Atli," Sevel said slowly. "That was unexpected."
"What treaty did it speak about? What did it say in that language?" Umi asked. He'd been strung along with just breadcrumbs for too long. It was time for answers. Not only that but he owed his team some answers. They'd start asking soon and a hunch wasn't enough to keep them going.
"There is an unspoken treaty between the Emflife and the Lokeen. A custom might be a better term. Neither of our species is to interfere in the affairs of the lesser species."
"Lesser species?" Captain Kolich said.
"Hrm," Sevel said.
Behind him, the drives throbbed. The sounds of the ship coming alive echoed everywhere. Pumps surged, piping hummed, and the metal settled into the vacuum.
"Hrm," Sevel said again. "Lady Atli, Captain Matsuo, would you join me so we can discuss this?"
"Nope," Umi said. In his mind he had two homes, one was a shabby apartment on Sigg, the other was with his troops. Even if there was only half a dozen. "There are no secrets here, not with us."
"Then come, all of you," Sevel said slowly.
Umi walked beside Lady Atli with the others close behind. The freighters hold was totally empty, only the discarded debris of containers and the scuffing on the floor marked that anything was once their. They walked through an airlock and the hall narrowed so much that Sevel's shoulders rubbed against the walls.
"Ship defense?" Riga asked.
The ceiling was at least a meter above Sevel's head. The whole space felt wrong, the proportions were off.
"Sevel," Umi said. "Who built this ship?"
Sevel turned his head as if surprised by the question. "This universe is bigger than you humans realize. And older, too."
They passed through another bulkhead. The walls were worn, the metals pitted with aged corrosion and the design slightly different. The ceilings were a bit lower and the walls a bit wider. The floor, though, said it all, it was worn right down to bare metal.
"How old?" Umi said.
"Quit bothering him, young man," Lady Atli said. "We're guests, and this is a rare privilege."
"You don't know, do you?" Umi was feeling sore and ornery.
"No. My family purchased it 840 cycles ago, or about 600 of your years. We bought it off Cion transporters, and they bought it in space we'd never been from. Even they, the tinkers they are, didn't know."
Umi had only engaged the Cion a handful of times, they were occasional mercenaries, but usually offered air strike services.
"How does it work? The star drive, or whatever you call it?" Riga said. He tapped the walls as he walked.
Sevel said nothing.
"Ahh, he doesn't know, either," Umi said. He smiled at Sevels back and was sure he'd see the Lokeen blush if it wasn't for the fur.
"It just works."
"Guess that's why they wouldn't sell us any during the war," Kelly mumbled.
They didn't pass any other Lokeen during the trip. They came into a control room with a multitude of displays. On one was a system map, on another a starmap, and on the last a full set of system diagnostics. Vasilov Prime was large in a video display. The chairs before each were Lokeen size, but the controls looked to be much smaller.
The Sigg filtered onto bridge. Sevel took a seat and punched through a few sets of starmaps. The Sigg watched silently while Lady Atli sat. She stared at the video display with worry in her eyes.
Umi watched her. It was the first time the famous Iron Lady of Vasilov Prime had showed any emotion.
"A treaty, eh? Wars lead to treaties," Riga said.
Sevel rumbled and tapped his claws on the display. "You are correct, human. Long ago many races sought to steer the destinies of others. We tried our hand at imperialism and discovered it to be a faulty ideal. The Emflife were our opponents. Eventually the war took its toll on our cultures. We are but shadows of what we once were."
"Who won?" Kelly Dell said.
Sevel gave her a small smile. "No one Kelly. It was a Ken-Tek Lokeen alliance on many fronts against the Emflife, the Cion, Boben, and Vek Esh Shell. The Kadan was on the borders, but they have their own agendas."
"The Boben I know enough about," Kelly said.
"They were young then. The Emflife, they called the shots, as you'd say on Earth. By the end, we decided to be guides to the other races, not because we wanted to, but because generations had died for nothing."
"I take it there's still some difference in opinion?" Umi said.
Sevel snorted. "Something like that. The Emflife were never many, they let others do the fighting. So when they take an interest in something we tend to do the same."
A Lokeen came onto the bridge and saluted Sevel. The two spoke back and forth. Sevel turned to Lady Atli. "It is time to prime the stardrive."
"My time for some secrets now, yes?" Lady Atli smiled a thin smile and tore her eyes from the screen. "We're going to a system catalog
ed as D445667."
"Unexplored?" Umi asked. Any system that was visited received some sort of name. A numerical designation were for things far out.
"Yes," she said. "It lays beyond a set of systems that we cannot get to via the stargate."
Sevel spoke to the other Lokeen. The other Lokeen sat and called up a starmap before saying something loudly to Sevel.
"That is forbidden," Sevel said. "It is called Pyrus. How do you know of that place?"
"We're not the only ones who learn secrets, dear Sevel." Lady Atli's eyes sparkled. "We've sent covert teams through in atmosphere capsules to go across airless planets. These include border stations to watch those worlds that enemies could use to get to ours. That world is filled with ruins, amazing ruins."
"Deadly ruins," Sevel said.
"Well, nothing of value would be left if there wasn't a few guardians, eh?"
Sevel rumbled and looked at Umi. "It is a dead place. Someone, some time long ago seeded it with hunters so that nothing more could survive there."
"What do we need from a forbidden planet?" Umi said. He liked this less.
Riga rubbed his face while Tollefson sighed. Umi sensed the discomfort. A payday wasn't worth shit to a corpse.
"Do you know Ken-Ashi?" Lady Atli asked Sevel.
"Ahh." Sevel nodded and turned back to the other Lokeen.
"Who is Ken-Ashi?" Umi said.
"A Ken-tek." Sevel tapped at the screen and the display shifted to a new starscape. "A very old one."
"They made the pendant," Lady Atli said. She leaned forward and pointed at the starmap. "They've been a particular friend to Terra, but they are, hmm, fickle. If we want to deal with this one we need to bribe him with the only thing they still value."
"What do they value?" Umi asked suspiciously.
"Information."
"Can we trust it?" Umi said.
Sevel answered. "Most definitely. They were the ones who led us to fight the Emflife."
"So why'd they brawl with the Emflife?" Riga asked. His voice sounded like even more of a rasp than normal.
The visual display changed to a wall of white static. Lights dimmed, the panels changed, and the entire ship groaned as if a massive weight was set upon it. A clattering sound rose from the rear like a million ball bearings tumbling. The star drive engaged. The two Lokeen spoke in a language the humans didn't know, then the visual display came back, but showed only black. The star maps changed and it showed that they'd moved half a light-year away from Vasilov Prime.
"They created them," Sevel answered.
#
Chapter Thirty-Four
Mackinof Front - 19th Armored Cavalry Squadron HQ Bunker
"How bad is it?" Colonel Clarke said.
He stretched inside of the bunker, his fingers not quite touching the ceiling. The air was just a touch on the warm side. Light flickered through the not quite perfect door with a little pile of snow on the floor beneath it. A heater purred in the corner and smelled of burnt wires.
The staff of the 19th Armored Cavalry Squadron all stood near the heater, or rather as far away from the door as possible.
"Eh," Commander Arap said. "Could be worse. We're down half a dozen tanks."
"Repairs?" Colonel Clarke said.
A Lieutenant named Dmitri spoke up. His winter fatigues were stained with grease and oil. "Sir, we can patch up four of them, I need to strip the others for parts."
"How are our spares?"
"Decent for the consumables, but for combat damage we need a bit of everything, sir. Not much we can do with what we got," Lieutenant Dmitri said.
"Bresov? How's the supply situation?"
Major Bresov coughed a deep raspy sound before finally stopping. "We have full efficiency on ammunition, weaponry, and consumables, however food is becoming an issue."
"How long?"
"We're down to 1800 kilo-calories right now, at that rate we've got two weeks. All of my requests have been denied."
Colonel Clarke crossed his arms. "I'll bring it up with the General. How many casualties?"
Commander Arap looked down at a tablet then back up. "Three dead, nine wounded, with six of the wounded able to serve."
"Three..."
"Could have been worse."
"Could have been better."
"We've got some disciplinary issues, sir," Alpha Company's CO, Captain Loza said.
The other Company Commanders all spoke up at the same time with the same complaints. None wanted to break the news, but once it had been levied they were all eager to speak about it. Theft, fighting, insubordination, drunkenness and drug use.
"Where do they find all this stuff?" Arap said.
"Crack down on the severe cases, drugs especially. Let the minor things go, as long as they can fight and do their job I'm satisfied. But I'll not stand for a soldier who can't do his duty." Clarke stepped closer to the Officers and looked at each one.
They looked back with soldiers eyes. Clarke was proud of them, they'd done damn well. Even if they didn't accomplish anything else of note they had proven what proper armor could do. But most importantly they proved what convicts could do.
"Get everyone ready. I'm not sure what the General has in mind for us next."
"What about the prisoner?" Lieutenant Torori asked.
"Torori, where's your CO?"
Lieutenant Torori glanced at Commander Arap then back to Colonel Clarke. "He's uh, indisposed, sir."
Colonel Clarke cocked his head at Arap.
"Can we discuss this after the meeting," Arap said.
"Very well. And as far as the prisoner goes, he's a Cion. They're the ones who have the aircraft that Bravo company stomped on. Unfortunately, he won't live much longer."
"We're going to shoot him?" Major Bresov said.
"No, he only has about two days' worth of breathable atmosphere on him. We don't have the ability to make more for him." Colonel Clarke didn't feel much sympathy for the Cion. It was unfortunate, but what else could he do? "If you need anything, let us know. I'll be around to speak with your troopers after the meeting. But tell them I'm proud of them all. Dismissed."
The line Officers marched out through the crooked door, as soon as they left the HQ staff came back in. Frigid air blasted in and a private slammed the door shut from outside. They stomped and shook off the chill before returning to work. The heater groaned louder and soon the chill disappeared.
Clarke paced between the wall and the heater. "What's this about Captain Norton?"
"They couldn't find him when it was time to depart."
"What?" Colonel Clarke said. "Who the hell had the platoon?"
"Lieutenant Torori took command."
"Where the hell is he now? I'll skin that bastard," Colonel Clarke yelled. He started tying up his jacket.
"He's dead," Arap said.
Colonel Clarke stopped clasping his jacket and let his hands slide down the front. The ember of anger drifted away and he sighed. "How?"
"Shot himself."
Clarke slammed a fist down onto a table and swept everything off of it. Ration tins, heater cores, and a box of bolts racketed across the bunker.
Heads spun as the staff all looked.
Colonel Clarke let his anger wash over him. Not anger at Captain Norton, but anger at himself for failing another soldier. He didn't like the man, thought him fairly useless, but still, Clarke saw him as one of his own. The man was his responsibility, he felt his death even more than one on the battlefield. Then as quickly the anger was gone. War is for the living, not the dead. "Promote Torori to CO. You tell him, he'll respect that after the raid. I'll be back."
"Yes sir."
There was a click and the door opened. Soldiers streamed in and business continued as normal.
Clarke left the bunker and waited in the cold air. He was early for the meeting but he didn't care. The excitement of a job well done was soured by the suicide of a Company Commander.
By the time he arrived, the pre-mee
ting was already in full swing. The little cliques and conversations were just coming to an end. Count-General Deveraux was locked in conversation with two other Generals. They all stood around a massive aerial plot of the Mackinof front.
"Clarke, one hell of a raid," a Colonel named Wilsey said. Another Colonel said the same, followed by another, and another. Like a row of dominoes, the conversations stopped and congratulations were sent through the room.
Count-General Deveraux looked away from his conversation and nodded toward Colonel Clarke. "Well done, Colonel. But a battle is not a war."
"Thank you, sir," Clarke said. He grabbed a cup of weak coffee and stood in the midst of all the other Colonels.
"Now," Count-General Deveraux said. "We've secured the original lines. The reactor is online, and the stargate will be complete in just under a month. Until then supplies will be tight. Things are simple until then, we hold our position, reinforce our lines, and await a line of stable reinforcement. Colonel Clarke was good enough to buy us this time." Deveraux clapped and the rest of the room followed.
Colonel Clarke gave a plastic smile and sipped his coffee. He didn't like where this was going.
"But things in the South are failing. The only reason Colonel Clarke's force did as well as they did was because the bulk of the Kadan are down South hammering on the Reach."
There it is, Colonel Clarke thought. Let no good deed go unpunished.
"I, and the other strategists on the Mackinof Front, see little use for the armor. It moves too fast, the infantry can't catch up, and any hole you make we cannot exploit. I'm sure you know this as well, Colonel, there simply aren't enough armored units to make a difference. The Vasilov are an infantry army, and always will be."
Colonel Clarke wanted to shout back at the General. He wanted to point out the hypocrisy of a generation of stalemate. He had already showed them what armor could do, but still, he was a novelty. He wanted to tell them that they could win, especially now, but instead they went on the defensive. He sipped his coffee and hid the scowl on his face.
"But," Count-General Deveraux said. "There are others who have use for your troops." He sighed and tapped on the southern edge of the map. "LISCOM has requested that you travel overland and break the Kadan siege on Reach. You are to follow that rail line you discovered, but surprise is key. Don't travel on those rails. Your orders will be sent shortly. We understand that it will take a week of hard travel through unknown territory and you will be provisioned accordingly. Good luck, Colonel."
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