A Pale Dawn

by Chris Kennedy

  “Wait…” Sansar said. She cocked her head as things started to line up for her. She looked at the metal lid the Tri-V was on, and suddenly it clicked. Creatures that were almost MinSha, but not quite. They almost had the same language. Gods coming from the skies and taking the aliens away. The obvious influence of a technological society on the planet.

  “What is the name of your people?” Sansar asked. “All of you—” she indicated the group of three and waved off toward where she guessed the rest of the leader’s people might be. “What are you called?”

  The leader stood straight, rising to his full height. “I am Fentayl, of the Clan Shintaa. My people are the Minchantaa.”

  “Blue Sky,” Mun muttered.

  “Entropy!” several people in the group exclaimed as everyone seemed to catch on at the same time.

  Sansar nodded, her guess validated. While other Humans might not have known the naming convention for an uplifted race, the Golden Horde, and especially its leadership, was very familiar with it, having uplifted the Salusians, thereby changing the race’s name to SalSha to indicate their uplifted status. She realized who she was looking at: the progenitors of the MinSha…before someone had come and uplifted them.

  This then—Chislaa—had to be the original home world of the MinSha, before they had been uplifted.

  Sansar went to the Tri-V and had it display a picture of a C’Natt, a client race for the Kahraman. They had been scientists who had experimented on the races under their dominion, conducting genetic trials and manipulations, and sometimes even uplifting young races if it served their overlords’ purposes.

  “Is this one of your gods?” Sansar asked, pointing to the C’Natt.

  “No,” the Minchantaa replied—who Sansar now realized must be female, as they were the warrior caste, at least among the MinSha. The leader swept away the leaf clutter on the ground and quickly drew a picture in the dirt. “This is what our gods look like.”

  Sansar stepped closer, and her eyebrows furrowed. The picture the alien had drawn didn’t look anything at all like a C’Natt. In fact, it wasn’t reptilian at all. The creature looked like a mammalian with long arms and long ears.

  “Weird,” Mun said, stepping in to look. The aliens moved back, giving her room. “The closest thing I can think of that looks like that is the creature that accompanies Colonel Cartwright.”

  “Splunk,” Sansar said. “Yeah, that’s the only thing I can think of, too, but it makes no sense.” She looked up at the alien leader. “That’s what your gods look like?” she asked. “How do you know?”

  “There is a picture that was drawn, many, many lifetimes ago, when our gods left. The grzch shows our gods leaving us.”

  “What do you make of that?” Mun asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sansar said. “Maybe the race that uplifted them didn’t want to be seen and only let them see the Fae, if indeed that is a Fae.” She shrugged, “Regardless, I’m pretty confident that this is the original MinSha home world. That, however, doesn’t get us any closer to the city.”

  Sansar turned back to the Tri-V and brought up an image of a HecSha. The three aliens jumped back, defending themselves with their spears.

  “Devils!” the leader said. “Those are the devils your kind brought to take us to hell!”

  One of the other Minchantaa drew back its arm as if to throw its spear, and Mun stepped in between them. “Easy,” she said. “We’re all friends here. Let’s keep it that way.”

  The leader turned and waved at the other Minchantaa to put its spear down. When she seemed to relax, Mun stepped back out of the way.

  “No,” Sansar said. “We did not bring those creatures with us. They came here on their own and are trying to kill and enslave us, too. We want to kill them and set both your people and my people free, but we need to get close to the city without being seen. If they see us coming, they will kill many of our non-warriors.”

  “They kill our non-warriors, too,” the leader said. “They have no honor.”

  Sansar tapped on the metal lid. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to get this open, would you? I think it might lead to tunnels that can get us into the city, but we can’t figure out how to open it.”

  “That is because they do not open,” Fentayl said. “Never in all of our history—not since the gods made them—have they opened.”

  “Do you know where they go?”

  “Yes,” the Minchantaa replied. “They go Home.”

  “Can you take us there?”

  The leader looked at the other Minchantaa, then turned back to Sansar. “Yes, we will take you there if you give us your vow as a warrior to harm no one you find there or along the way.”

  “I give you my vow.”

  “Then you may bring five of your warriors,” Fentayl said. “Follow me.” She turned, and the three Minchantaa skittered quickly into the forest.

  * * *

  Redoubt, Talus, Talus Star System

  Jim watched as the flight of Phoenix dropships screamed by overhead and unloaded a wave of powerful missiles. Get some, he mentally snarled as the ordnance slammed into the side of the mountain with a series of titanic detonations.

  They’d pulled out of Leaning Peak twenty-four hours ago. The trials had been completed in short order, and, as Buddha feared, the convicted traitors were executed. However, thanks to Jim’s intervention, 77 men and women were spared. He didn’t watch the actual executions; he’d seen enough death in his time as a merc company commander already. He simply confirmed that the weapons were distributed to the civilians, then mobilized his troopers.

  The Cavaliers advanced along a rugged mountain road which wove through the Crystal Mountains for 50 kilometers. Besquith drones harassed them intermittently, only now they didn’t do it with impunity. With the fall of the orbital defense base at Leaning Peak, the Winged Hussars were able to use their own drones much more effectively. Every time the aliens tried an airstrike, the Hussars knocked them out of the sky.

  Besquith assault troopers attacked the Gitmo’s Own troopers, who were working along a divergent path, trying to create a pincer attack. Colonel Spence’s troopers punched through the attack with no difficulty, and the enemy fell back to their mountain stronghold. It was at that point Jim decided he was tired of playing games. The dropships returned to Bucephalus, were rearmed for ground attack, and returned loaded for Oogar.

  The fourth bombing run pounded the slope of the mountain around the facility. Huge chunks of the mountain were blown into the sky and rained down like meteorites. Once the last of the debris was out of the air, Jim moved away from the cliff they’d been using as cover to get a better view. Fire was pouring out of several craters, a clear indication they’d inflicted some serious damage this time.

  “That did the trick,” Hargrave transmitted. His Second Platoon was further up the hillside, ready to defend against surprise air attack. After the fiasco around Sulphur Springs, two troopers from each platoon had been equipped with anti-air lasers from the dropship resupplies.

  “Roger that,” Jim replied. “I’m going to see if they’re willing to pack it in again.”

  “Worth a try,” Hargrave agreed.

  Jim programmed his CASPer’s radio to simultaneously broadcast on all the common planetary frequencies they’d picked up signals from. His suit’s radio systems were considerably more powerful than most other suits in his unit, as were the other platoon and company commanders’. When you were running dozens or even hundreds of troopers in combat conditions, it was essential you could reach people when you wanted to, not just when it was convenient. He also set his translator to broadcast in Besquith, just in case.

  “Attention Besquith forces in the Redoubt facility, this is Colonel Jim Cartwright of Cartwright’s Cavaliers. We are prepared to offer you surrender terms.”

  “To entropy with you, Human,” came the immediate reply.

  Well, Jim thought, at least they finally replied. “You should note, we’ve established air su
periority. I’m prepared to simply bombard that mountain until your facility is nothing but rubble. I’d just as soon save the ordnance, but it’s your call.”

  Japu, the Lumar commander of Big Fist, loped up. He’d been given a modified headset, letting him listen into the command channel. He spoke to Jim as he approached. “Besquith are as stubborn as Goka,” he said and pointed at an entry where a stream of alien troopers was pouring out.

  It looked like the Besquith wanted to make a last stand instead of surrendering or getting blown up in place. Jim sighed. He detested wholesale slaughter. However, he detested losing men even more. He keyed his radio.

  “Phoenix Flight One, Cartwright Actual.”

  “Cartwright Actual, go for Phoenix Flight One.”

  “I have a fire mission,” Jim said and transmitted the live telemetry from his suit.

  The Besquith got halfway to Jim’s unit before the flight of five Phoenix dropships screamed overhead and dropped their payloads. The Besquith forces were engulfed in death. In seconds, there were no survivors. Jim was silent in his CASPer; only the sound of the atmospheric processing system and hybrid hydrogen fuel cells interrupted his reverie.

  “You did what you had to, kid,” Hargrave’s voice said over their private command channel.

  “We’re mercs, not executioners,” Jim said. He hoped he never got the taste for wholesale slaughter, even of crazy Besquith. Hargrave didn’t add anything. “We need to get in there and finish securing what’s left of the facility.”

  Japu observed the slaughter emotionlessly. Once the Besquith met their end, he turned to look at Jim’s powered armor, waiting to be acknowledged.

  “Are you going to enter there?” Japu said, pointing to the still-open mountain facility.

  “Yes,” Jim said over his PA speaker. “We need to secure the facility.”

  “Let us do this,” Japu said.

  “You barely have enough equipment to protect yourself,” Jim pointed out.

  “Your armor is huge,” Japu said, “you will not do as well in there as we. Also, two of my people have been there.”

  “Hargrave?” Jim said on their private channel.

  “Go, Jim.”

  “The Lumar want to go in.”

  “They aren’t exactly well equipped,” Hargrave said.

  “I explained that, and he said they were better suited to go in there.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I’d hate to see them get chewed up, but Japu is pretty confident. He says two of them have been inside Redoubt.” He thought for a second. “I say let them have a go of it. They want to prove themselves.”

  “I concur,” Hargrave said. “Let them try.”

  “Okay,” Jim said to Japu, “go ahead.”

  “We will not fail,” Japu immediately ran to his people. In minutes, the entire team was loping up the mountainside as fast as any CASPer could have managed with its jumpjets.

  Shit, Jim thought. Splunk wiggled out of her space in the thigh compartment and up to the chest where she watched the Tri-V display.

  “Lumar fight along, ” she asked.

  “Yes,” Jim said. “They wanted to do this by themselves.”

  Splunk watched the aliens disappear up the mountainside until Jim switched to FLIR, the forward-looking infrared, to track their progress. Her ears were back in concentration as she observed. Jim glanced down at her, the intense look on her elfin face was not really curiosity. To him it appeared more akin to someone watching how a machine they’d crafted was functioning.

  Jim started thinking about their adventures halfway across the galaxy, the Tri-V image of a Lumar in a Raknar, an all-too-familiar Fae on its shoulder. Interacting with the Lumar, like he had during their travels, made him shake his head. The Lumar couldn’t be the Dusman, the Kahraman’s foes in the Great War 20,000 years ago. These beings weren’t inventive creators, they couldn’t have manufactured the 30-meter-tall mecha known as Raknar.

  The Lumar reached the entrance and stormed inside. They attacked with a surety and fearlessness that surprised Jim. It also made him wonder why so many races seemed to underestimate and abuse the Lumar. They seemed extremely faithful, if you just chose to reward them with a small amount of respect.

  Big Fist secured the former stronghold of the alien occupying force in only 90 minutes, and with almost no casualties. The Besquith had thrown nearly every available trooper at Jim’s forces, leaving just a few guards and technical staff. Most of them surrendered, and the Lumar rooted out the few who wouldn’t.

  Jim led his unit into the facility as the Lumar worked to contain the fires started by the bombardment. At the same time, Gitmo’s Own took possession of Redoubt’s landing field and motor pool. As Jim suspected, the Besquith had been nearly out of drones by the time the base fell. Finally at a secure location, his comms specialists set up a secure orbital relay, and he was able to get a complete battlespace readout.

  Unfortunately, the rest of the assault wasn’t going as well. As the map developed, he cursed silently.

  When he’d been tasked with command of the ground forces against Talus, Jim had consulted with Hargrave on how to best prosecute the campaign. He’d been given seven merc companies, including his own—the largest assault force of the campaign. Talus was the largest Human colony, and the Horsemen all considered its liberation vital to the success of that campaign.

  At Hargrave’s advice, Jim had split the assault forces into three teams. His Cavaliers and Gitmo’s own, the only two units specializing in orbital assault, went after the crucial targets of Leaning Peak and Redoubt, home of Talus’ orbital defenses. Once Leaning Peak was taken, it freed the two other teams to proceed.

  The two foreign units he’d brought with him, Dood Wraak from South Africa and the 1st Highland Regiment from Scotland, landed at Ember Plains, a regional food production center. Surrounded by hundreds of kilometers of farmland, the town held 200,000 people and was classified as a soft target. Colonel Koppenhoefer from Dood Wraak was in command with two battalions of light infantry and a single company of older CASPers. The Highlanders brought just one company of nearly new CASPers and one of light infantry, but considerable experience.

  They took their objective easily and had begun to advance northwest up Ember Road toward the capital, Johnstown, when they were hit by a battalion of heavy armor coming across the Rapid River, down from Sawtown to the north. Once again, intel was shit, and there’d been no warning. The armor was Zuul and tough as shit; Jim had personal experience with their tanks.

  The other element was led by Colonel Gries with Triple T. Gries’ unit was large—two entire battalions of CASPers, mostly Mk 8s. With him were Colonel Leanne Jenning’s Hellcats and their two companies of mostly Mk 7 CASPers and a company of light infantry. They also had Colonel Un Xian’s Red Lancers, a single platoon of modern CASPers and a company of specialized infantry. Xian’s unit was a rare bird in Human mercs, specializing in scouting and recon.

  Gries intended to set down as close to Johnstown as possible. However, when their big transports started taking fire, the units redirected and came down unopposed in the fishing settlement of Smoker, 250 kilometers south of Johnstown, along the shore of the Great Shallow Sea. With only a population of 20,000, the little town was all but overrun with hundreds of Human mercs, vehicles, equipment, and CASPers.

  Once Gries got all his forces down, he sent the Lancers up the Coastal Highway toward the capital to scout. They immediately encountered a battalion of Besquith troopers digging in at Graball, the next town. Despite the intel reaching Colonel Gries, it took him four hours to mobilize a company of CASPers, and another half hour to cross the intervening 20 kilometers. Neither Triple T nor the Hellcats specialized in rapid assault. The Besquith were well entrenched by the time Gries arrived.

  The Lancers attempted to scout a route around Graball and found rough, rocky, and steep terrain to the east, which was unsuitable for the various tracked and wheeled transports of the infantr
y elements. The CASPers could advance, but only if they left their support and infantry behind. The assault force was repelled by the Besquith defenders.

  Jim examined the map at that stage of the assault. He would have left a small harassing force at Graball to keep the Besquith from disengaging and instead moved the bulk of the forces east, down the Road to the Crystals, which eventually led to Ember Plains. Gries could have linked up with Koppenhoefer, defeated the Zuul armor, and advanced on Johnstown. Unfortunately, Gries hadn’t seen it the same way.

  Triple T moved forward with a full-scale assault against Graball, which turned into a major sustained firefight. Merc combat wasn’t usually a slugfest. One side or the other would decide it wasn’t worth the losses and fall back or give up, hoping to get ransomed. The war against humanity didn’t follow those rules. The Besquith fought with the same intensity at Graball as they’d fought with at Redoubt.

  “Why didn’t he call for air support?” Jim asked.

  “He’s not used to having it,” Hargrave guessed.

  Jim quietly cursed again. Colonel Gries obviously didn’t like being subordinate to a twenty-one-year-old merc commander, even if that same man was a Horseman. It looked to him like the older man was trying to make a point and was instead making mistakes. The last thing Jim wanted to do was take direct command, but Triple T and the Hellcats were bogged down in street-to-street fighting at Graball, a coastal city of 8,000 mostly fisherman, and of no real strategic importance to the conquest.

  “I think I need to take Alpha Company over and dig him out of that mess,” Jim said.

  “I think you’re right,” Hargrave agreed. “But Gries is going to take it personally.”

  “I’ve considered that,” Jim admitted.

  “Figured you did, just needed to mention it.”

  “Thanks. Contact a Phoenix flight to come pick us up. We’ll do a hot LZ behind the Besquith and flank them.”