Ashes

by Martin Allen

  The rear-loading ramp of the Command Crab swung down. The ramp was designed to allow a Squad to deploy rapidly using the Crab as cover whilst the vehicle was still in motion so that forward momentum did not have to be sacrificed to deploy to a defensible position. The Eight wheels could be run on either a tracked configuration or non-tracked with only minor modifications to effect the change. The motors were contained within the wheel hubs themselves so that more space could be utilised for troops and equipment. These innovations lead to a rather more spacious interior than pre-Imperial APCs. Lieutenant Gratius leaned heavily on Halberdier Amatius as they made their way up the ramp to the interior of the vehicle, which housed vast numbers of monitors as well as computer equipment which helped the command team co-ordinate the movements of all the troops in the column. Guardsman Buteo stood within the armoured cocoon with a smug look of triumph and contempt on his arrogant features. Colonel Marius reclined in the command chair awaiting the Lieutenant.

  “I have been informed of your failure to adhere to the chain of command earlier Lieutenant. Not only did you fail to shoot the running child, but you apparently directly countermanded the orders I gave at the start of this mission by ordering the surrounding troops not to do so either. Under the circumstances I am going to overlook the charge of lack of…. shall we say courtesy… to Guardsman Buteo here by not referring to him as Sir.” Buteo, if it were possible, looked smugger than ever as the Colonel outlined the charges against Lieutenant Gratius. “As a point of procedure however I would point out that Guardsman Buteo, despite being your liaison and technical superior in this mission has not achieved a sufficient rank to be referred to as “Sir” therefore I do not believe this should form part of this battlefield Court-Marshall. Do you have anything to say as to the remainder of the charges?”

  “Sir, whilst the chain of command forms the basis of any well-functioning military operation, a ranking officer has the obligation to react to a threat to the success of the mission without having to refer to his superior in respect of all aspects of operation. The use of initiative is an integral part of a well-trained and functioning unit. There was not time to seek instruction in respect of the small child. I was mindful of my orders. The orders given by yourself, sir, were to shoot any escapees or attempted escapees. The child in my opinion was not seeking to escape, merely to go to the aid of the escapee who had just been shot by one of my men, on my order following the very orders I am accused of countermanding. This was not, in my opinion, an escape or escape attempt, therefore there was leeway available to me as an officer as to how the situation was to be handled. You should also note that I did order her shot, just not with lethal weaponry, and she was indeed shot. Your orders did not specify with which weapon an escape should be shot. When I was briefed by Investigator Celeris I was specifically ordered to equip my men with non-lethal weaponry for crowd control, therefore I was under the impression, given that briefing and your own, that anything less than an actual escape attempt should be met with less than lethal force and as I have pointed out the child did not seem to be making an escape attempt. I would respectfully submit that the orders given were not specific enough to support a finding of not following orders.” Lieutenant Gratius was very aware that his entire argument was spurious at worst and pure sophistry at best but it was the best he could come up with to deal with the charges.

  “Hmmm, I am aware of what my orders were and I do not appreciate them being quoted back at me. I also do not appreciate that you made my Guardsman look foolish in front of the entire convoy, including the prisoners. That by extension makes me look foolish and not in control of this operation. That cannot be allowed to happen. This mission is of vital importance to the Empire and any threat to the success of it must be eliminated. Guardsman Buteo, please hand me your sidearm and drag the Lieutenant outside, we wouldn’t want to get blood over my command consoles.”

  Guardsman Buteo duly handed his heavy duty side-arm to the Colonel; it was especially large for an infantry side-arm. Regulation side-arms were chosen for a mixture of stopping power and the ability to be used quickly in close quarters. Buteo’s weapon looked more like a hand-held artillery piece and certainly played more to the stopping power side of the equation than to any real effort to be able to be used in close quarters where it would be heavy and unwieldy. Buteo grabbed the collar of Lieutenant Gratius and shoved Halberdier Amatius roughly into the wall of the Command Crab. He proceeded to unceremoniously drag Gratius outside to the sand, Gratius’ toes leaving twin furrows when the ramp ended and the sand began.

  “You’ll burn in the hells for undermining my command Aquilinius.” Buteo hissed to the Lieutenant as they came to a stop and Buteo roughly rotated the Lieutenant to face the Colonel sauntering down the ramp of the Command Crab.

  The Colonel raised the veritable cannon of a gun he had been given and pointed it directly at Lieutenant Gratius’ face.

  “I admit your deployment did stop the earlier escape attempt, but I cannot let any trace of disharmony give the prisoners hope of a successful escape attempt. We must minimise the number of escapees to maintain pace and compete the mission on schedule.”

  The gun barked and echoed from the rocks surrounding the column and yet more lights flashed in Lieutenant Gratius’ head as his head hit the stony ground, blood turning the brown rock a dark red.

  “I will not have petty distractions compromising the effectiveness of this force and I will not tolerate point scoring for personal glory.” The level tone of the Colonel shocked all who heard it; even as Buteo’s headless body hit the ground beside Lieutenant Gratius. “I do not agree with your actions Lieutenant, but it was your choice as to how my, imprecise, orders were to be interpreted.” Colonel Marius lifted Lieutenant Gratius’ face up to level with his own, now kneeling next to him “So let me be more precise. They run, your men shoot, lethal force is to be used on all except for moving the prisoners along. Am I making myself clear?” Gratius could do little but nod as the Colonel returned to his Command Vehicle.

  Back in the shade of the Crab Gratius reclined now free to commence his recovery, whilst various Halberdiers had rotated, albeit with Balbus taking the lion’s share of the shifts, Mya had stayed close to the Lieutenant without a break. While it had been originally cute that she took such an interest in the Squad’s comings and goings Lieutenant Gratius could not help but feel dis-quietened by her presence, he had after all ordered the death of someone close to her and was ultimately taking her to be tried by the Inquisition. At least she did not insist on disturbing him with incessant chatting like many of the children that he was forced to endure at various family gatherings. She had not said a word since he had become aware of her existence. Lieutenant Gratius was aware that in certain circumstances a traumatic event can cause the mind to shut down entirely, post-traumatic stress disorder was a common eventuality among military personnel and so he had been trained to look for the signs as this could affect the Squad’s ability to function adequately. He had not, however, been trained to spot the warning signs in children. This could be a temporary coping mechanism or a symptom of a wider problem. In Soldiers, the breakdown came with other behavioural problems, although there were no hard and fast rules to such psychological damage. There was some semblance of hope for Gratius in this, as persons whose familial ties to the banned religious movements were not adjudged guilty if they were deemed mentally unfit to have been indoctrinated. If Mya was unable to communicate or take in even part of the complexities of religious instruction then she could be educated and cared for by the Temple itself and escape the trials. Gratius made a mental note to inform the Investigator about this possibility when next he had the opportunity. It would be counter-productive to attempt this with Colonel Marius for a number of reasons. Firstly, he would not care, secondly he would not have the authority to do anything but inform the Investigator about the situation, and Gratius did not trust him to do so, especially after the callus shooting of Marius’ own Guardsman. Sure the man
had overreached his authority somewhat, and decided to try and advance himself in a petty and ridiculous a manner, but it had not warranted such an action. Still, Gratius was now without a Black Guard liaison. This would allow him to manage his Squad more effectively, once he recovered sufficiently to do his duty. For now, he trusted Sergeant Curtius to keep the squad in line. The terrain was pretty much a standard for quite a while, and so there would be no need to change tactics in response to bottlenecks or impassable areas. Gratius lay back and let the greatest healer take care of his injuries. For the moment he had nothing but time.

  Sergeant Curtius sat in the Command Crab swearing randomly at various members of the Squad over the comm.-link as they ran alongside the Crab. They were obviously distracted by the Black Guard’s casual display of capricious power, as well they should be. Even Curtius was shocked. There was no real rhyme or reason to the beating or the shooting of the Guardsman. Yes, the Black Guard were rumoured to perform the tasks for which normal military were not able to do for moral or ethical reasons. When the Empire had first begun to form there had been an armed backlash from more fundamentalist states. Various noble families from Europe’s surviving Royal Families, who all had military rank, sided with the Empire, having been converted previously. These loyal commanders were later formed into the Black Guard and the membership to this Heavy Infantry Unit was made hereditary in deference to the way noble titles had been progressed in the states of those who had supported the Fledgling Empire. The unit had developed into a unit deployed for the dirtiest missions the Empire called upon its soldiery to do. They were zealously loyal to the Patriarch himself and followed a completely separate chain of command to the rest of the military. It was always bad news when the Black Guard was involved in anything. Sergeant Curtius was well aware of the rumours that surrounded Black Guard Operations. There was inevitably a slaughter of some kind, even when the mission had supposedly been a “peacekeeping” one. The media always reported that an uprising had triggered the wholesale use of force, but rather than the tried and tested attrition tactics of the Patriarchal Guard the Black Guard wiped all resistance off the map with overwhelming firepower.

  Sergeant Curtius was not enamoured with his stand in role at present either. This was then shown by his response to any sloppy manoeuvre by the Squad. Whilst the Crab was at least more comfortable than the oppressive heat evaporating the moisture from the troops very pores, he still had to be the point of contact for the Squad and higher command. Given the squads liaison had been shot this meant that Curtius was attempting to reconcile three roles - his own, the Lieutenants, and that of Liaison. The Liaison was the part that was giving him most trouble. Just how did the Lieutenant managed to keep his cool when the command structure was constantly asking for updates on a situation that did not change? The terrain was the same as it was ten, twenty and thirty minutes ago; the column was still moving. What more details did they want?

  The comm-link spluttered into life again. What did these idiots want this time? “Calidius Squad, be advised, adverse weather conditions have been observed ahead. Patrols should move closer to the column and if necessary double up in the Mark 17s.”

  Sergeant Curtius stared blankly at the comm-link. What the devil was ‘adverse weather conditions’ and why would the squad need to shelter in the Crabs? Surely if these weather conditions were this bad then the column should stop moving so that the perimeter could be maintained. “Request further intelligence, what are the weather conditions observed?”

  “Sandstorm, moving east fast. It should be on you within the hour.” The reply came back.

  A sandstorm was terminology that Sergeant Curtius understood; he had been on a desert Hell-World when the sandstorms were so severe that the force of the dust particles rushing by could remove a man’s skin. Obviously such a possibility was more unlikely on Sol Invictus itself but if Command was advising the troops to take shelter he should heed the warning.

  “All troops report to Crabs. Sandstorm approaching. Crabs to move closer to the prisoners to provide cover fire in case of breach of perimeter.” Sergeant Curtius knew that in the event of a Sandstorm the problem would be a lack of visibility as the prisoners could use the cover to spirit themselves away from the column and no one would be any the wiser until the storm passed.

  “Sergeant, the prisoners will be unable to keep moving in those conditions.” Sergeant Curtius was surprised to heard Lieutenant Gratius’ voice over the comm-link “Move the Crabs into the bulk of the prisoners and tell them to keep to the leeward side of the vehicles.”

  “Sir, we have been ordered to keep moving” Curtius protested.

  “We can do both, Sergeant, plus with the low visibility it is our best chance of keeping the prisoners from making a run for it.”

  Sergeant Curtius sighed as he broke the comm.-link to engage the loudspeaker systems, he just hoped the Lieutenant knew what he was doing, he was sure Colonel Marius would not appreciate the new tactics being employed.

  The sand whipped past the Crabs, the armour providing little shelter for those huddled in its lee. Still the prospect of staggering along did not appeal to many, for the wind threatened to take away their balance, while the sand abraded skin and threatened to damaged eyes and lungs alike. At least in the refuge from the wind conditions were at least tolerable. Unfortunately for the prisoners there were too many people and not enough shelter provided by the Squad’s machines. After the success of Lieutenant Gratius’ tactics previously a number of other Squads had also brought their Crabs into the midst of the prisoners. The conditions were so inhospitable in the open that only the most suicidal would move even a short distance from relative safety. It would be all too easy to be turned around in the storm and die of thirst within days as the escapee walked further and further away from moisture. The prisoners themselves shuffled along with the young and old keeping as close to the vehicles as possible but the more ambulatory took turns to shelter and walk on the edge of the groups centred on the Crabs. There was no jostling for position as a stronger more selfish few monopolised the sheltered areas to the detriment of those that could not protect themselves. There was an unspoken bond that they would face this ordeal as a group and not lessen themselves to the level of animals and exclude the weak and helpless. The strong would occasionally lift up those that lacked the strength to carry on unaided and only a few who had got separated were left behind to die in the tides of the desert as it would have been impossible to break ranks and seek them out. Such simple kindness viewed on the monitors of his Mark 17s monitor feed filled Lieutenant Gratius’ heart with shame for he was unable to replicate even this simple act of kindness and as the infra-red signatures of each of the lost souls faded he felt a part of himself die. Behind the column the fading bodies appeared on the infra-red imagers as the monstrous footprints of the convoy itself. They faded even as the real footprints of the prisoners and the track marks of the Crabs did. Leaving no trace - save, to be discovered later, desiccated bodies drained of all moisture by the marsh desert sands.

  Chapter 7

  A rumble of tracked vehicles became audible in the command bunker. The Investigator turned to the door and stood. Her anticipation was almost palpable despite giving no outward sign of her excitement.

  “Shall we unleash the dogs of war, gentlemen?” She asked casually and strode outside to an empty courtyard.

  The rumble had been loud enough to signify the arrival of extremely heavy-duty transportation rigs, but no sign of any vehicle could be seen outside.

  “Sir, there’s nothing...” a junior level officer started.

  “Shhh, they’re cloaked. The energy depletion of such devices is phenomenal; whatever is there is beyond my clearance and certainly above yours. Keep quiet and perhaps we will live through this.” General Hostilius hissed, panic running like ice through his veins.

  The Empire expanded using any energy it could and left much of its population in energy poverty. Only the most affluent could afford the expe
nditure of energy on less than imperative tasks. As a result many technologies were rigidly controlled due to their energy expenditure. Cloaking technology, which used a combination of effects to achieve its aim, was one of the most power hungry of the technologies the Empire possessed. Thermal masking was achieved using heat sink materials. Visual cloaking was achieved using quantum lensing, which utilised gravitational effects. A black hole is invisible to the naked eye as it sucks light in from the event horizon but can be visually detected due to the attractive effect the gravitational pull has on the light passing by, but not within the event horizon. The gravitational forces act like a conventional lens causing refraction of the light around the black hole. Visual cloaks used by the Empire worked on a quantum imitation of this effect, but on a much smaller scale with more powerful, yet shorter range forces, based upon the weak electromagnetic force. Ironically, given its name, this force is one of the most powerful in the universe, but its range is extremely limited, and thus suited the quantum lensing objectives of the Empire perfectly. Radar was the least power hungry, using relatively simple design technology of non-reflective surface materials and diffusing reflection by complex baffles in the edges of planes. Complex cooling technology based upon the basic instability of energy meant that while a part of the heat generated by the other technologies was recycled, but not enough to significantly reduce the energy needs of the combined technology, the vast majority was converted to matter high in the atmosphere by quantum energy level jumping. This level of energy consumption was therefore only levelled at objects of extreme worth to the Empire.