The Second Fall

by G J Ogden

  Maria thought for a moment, “Assuming he’s not moved far beyond the spaceport, perhaps two or three hours tops, but I imagine he’ll push hard, so it could be less.”

  Aster nodded, and then looked towards a rocky outcrop about a hundred meters up the mountainside. “We should set up a defensive position there,” he said, pointing to the outcrop. “There are ten of us left with combat training, excluding yourself. We’re light on ammo and weapons, but we might be able to hold off Kurren’s advance, if needed.”

  Maria looked at the outcrop. It was a good position; flat, elevated and with good cover, and it also had a view out towards the open terrain between the mountain and the city, which was down in the valley beyond the horizon line. If Kurren was going to approach from the spaceport near the city then he would have to advance up the mountain towards that position; to advance through the forest would be too risky. A firefight was the last thing they needed, but Aster was right, they had to expect the worst.

  “I’ll take care of it,” said Aster. “You two focus on getting everyone inside; the people down there already know you, and trust you.”

  Maria hesitated for a moment, not because she didn’t think Aster was capable of handling the defense, but because part of her wanted to wait for the UEC to arrive. Maria wanted to see that murdering bastard James Kurren stepping out of the transport, so that she could personally have the chance to put a bullet in his head. Her blood pumped at the mere thought of it, but Aster was right; the scientists already knew Maria and Ethan, and so it made sense that she would lead the survivors into the mountain complex.

  “Okay,” said Maria, “it’s a good plan. Get it done.”

  Aster saluted and then left, shouting orders to other military personnel as he strode past them. Maria watched for a moment and observed the rag-tag bunch of UEC and GPS fighters cluster around Aster and listen intently. Most of them had little-to-no combat training, and zero combat experience, other than simulations, but despite coming from all corners of the UEC and GPS, they had banded together as one unit. It was ironic, thought Maria, that the first true example of reunification would result from such a horrific act of aggression. It would have made Diana proud and happy to see it, and in a small way this gave Maria some comfort.

  “Looks like we’re in for another hike,” said Ethan, cheerfully.

  Maria looked up at the mountain, watching the thin line of small bodies ascending slowly up to the hidden plateau where the entrance was located, and then remembered how much her legs had burned during the last ascent. “I don’t suppose you fancy carrying me up?” she asked, half-serious, but Ethan just laughed and then set off towards the transports.

  Maria remained for a moment. She glanced at Aster, still bustling with purpose, and then peered up at the outcropping that would serve as their first and last line of defense. I hope it’s enough, she said to herself before jogging to catch up with Ethan, and walking side-by-side with him to the remaining survivors.

  Chapter 24

  Aster crouched low and crept to the highest point of the rocky outcrop that overlooked the scorched plains stretching away from the mountain in all directions. Peering through a gap in the rocks, he saw the dust trails of two transports approaching at high speeds. His PVSM vibrated (he’d sensibly muted the audible alarms) with a message from Maria, saying the operation still needed at least another thirty minutes. Aster cursed; he would have to delay Kurren’s troops, one way or another.

  Staying low, he turned to the others assembled in positions across the length of the outcrop, which stretched for about twenty meters in a horizontal band across the side of the mountain. “They’re coming. Get ready!”

  He heard the mechanical clicks and clunks of weapons being loaded, and then turned back to follow the progress of the transports, which were now approaching the foot of the mountain and had slowed to a crawl. Blocking their progress was the dense forest that enveloped the foothills, save for the barren slopes in front of him. The woods were impassible for these large military transports. For the UEC soldiers to reach the sentry’s last transmitted position, they would have to disembark and either approach through the forest, or come directly up the side of the mountain towards where Aster and his band were hiding. Aster was betting on them choosing the latter option; though this would leave them exposed to a potential ambush, such as the one he had waiting for them, it would give them opportunities for cover and an unobstructed view ahead. This would be preferable to approaching through the forest, where visibility would be low and movement limited, and would also expose them to potential booby traps. Aster and Maria had not laid any traps, since they didn’t have anything to lay, but Kurren didn’t know that.

  Aster watched the transports gradually approach the tree line and then speed up and circle back, eventually coming to a stop in a vee-formation, pointing directly towards his position. This gave Aster an uneasy feeling. Do they know we’re here? he wondered. But he shrugged it off; it didn’t matter either way – they would come and he would make his stand.

  The doors of both transports slid open and two squads of UEC soldiers in vibrant blue combat armor filed out and immediately found cover.

  “Damn it… blue boots,” muttered Aster under his breath. He shared his former commander’s dislike of the Security Corps and especially of these elite soldiers. It was not just his dislike of them that had caused him to curse, though; it was also the fact that their armor was almost as tough as a sentry’s, and that they carried sophisticated rifles that had significantly more power and range than the weapons he had at his disposal. But, he had the advantage of height and, he hoped, surprise.

  He watched the soldiers continue to disperse, counting them off as they each exited their transport and ran to a cover position. He had reached fourteen when the dispersal stopped.

  That’s odd… Aster thought. A full unit would be nine, so where are the rest? A couple of possibilities entered his mind: it could simply be that they expected an easy fight and so had committed fewer men, but that would be arrogant, even for Kurren. The more likely possibility is that they had already suffered losses, most likely from encounters with the sub-human creatures that stalked this desolate world. If this was true then they would move more cautiously, and perhaps even less confidently.

  Aster waited and watched. The blue boots began to move out, heading up the side of the mountain, as he had predicted. They moved quickly and methodically, from cover to cover, minimizing the amount of time that they were exposed to a potential ambush. Aster scrutinized the terrain in front of them and saw, roughly twenty meters ahead of where he was hiding, an open area of grassy land where there was no significant cover. This is where he would ambush them, thought Aster. He doubted he could take out many, especially with their armor, but a bloody nose might convince them to turn back and rethink their approach, giving him and his band of resistance fighters enough time to reach the cave entrance unseen and join with the others.

  Aster reached down, drew his weapon and flipped off the safety. He had loaded it earlier, in preparation for this moment. There would be no clever maneuvers and no advanced tactics; the signal to attack would be when Aster opened fire, and then the others would spring from their positions and unleash what firepower they had on the unsuspecting enemy below.

  The blue boots continued to advance at a steady pace, and then the first wave reached the edge of the open area. They waited, perhaps using the advanced sensors in their suit helmets to scan for dangers ahead. Aster remained as still as the rocks surrounding him, hoping that a combination of their cover and the background radiation would be enough to mask their presence. He gripped his pistol tightly and forced himself to regulate his breathing, mentally preparing himself to attack.

  The first three soldiers stepped out from cover and ran, followed by a second group of four, which ran away in the other direction, at forty five degrees to the first.

  Wait for it… said Aster in a low voice, and when the first group was half-way ac
ross the open area, he took a deep breath, held it and pushed himself up.

  The shots echoed around the mountainside, sounding like a dozen thunderstorms all at once. Aster emptied his first clip within seconds and quickly reloaded as a torrent of bullets rained down from above on the unsuspecting UEC soldiers. Four fell before any managed to return fire, but the ambush had worked and their aim was sporadic and in no danger of threatening Aster’s fighters. Another body in blue armor fell, before the final two managed to retreat back to cover. Aster’s unit continued to lay down suppressing fire, but the advantage was now lost, and he could see the second unit of blue boots moving up to attack.

  “Take cover!” Aster shouted, but his voice was lost among the maelstrom of gunfire.

  Where the eleven sidearms of Aster’s defenders combined to sound like thunder, the boom of nine powerful UEC rifles unloading all at once was like something otherworldly, as if a primal force had struck the mountainside. Aster scrambled down behind the rocks and spun onto his back, hoping that the others also had the good sense to take cover, but his heart sank as he saw body after body fall. He cursed and peered back over the top of the rocks, firing on the nearest soldier, hitting it in the neck. Blood spurted from the wound and the body fell. Bullets immediately landed on his position, disintegrating the rocks as if they were made of nothing but soft clay, and forcing him to scramble away as chalky splinters peppered his face and neck. He flattened himself against the gravelly surface and covered his head, facing down the panic swelling inside him as bullets continued to cut down his fighters. He heard their muffled cries and the thuds as their bodies hit the ground, and hugged himself tightly, expecting the next volley to tear through his body just as casually as it had the others. Instead, a round metal sphere, about the size of a fist landed in front of him, blinking; it was a grenade. Instinctively, he picked it up and threw it back over the edge of the now-mangled rock face; it detonated in midair sending him sailing backwards from the force of the blast and into a thick patch of long grass several meters away. His head thumped against the rocky surface below, and though the impact was cushioned by the grass, it still knocked Aster out cold. The explosion also caught one of the lead UEC soldiers, whose split-second evasive reaction saved him from being killed instantly, but he was thrown sideways by the blast and sent tumbling down the mountainside and into the darkness of the forest below.

  The remaining blue boots advanced swiftly, surrounding what was left of their enemy’s rocky defensive position, and soon there were shouts of surrender from the few resistance fighters that were left alive. They threw down their weapons and held up their hands. It was over.

  One of the UEC soldiers stepped forward as the others kept their weapons trained on the four surviving members of Aster’s band of rebels.

  “Where is Major Page?” the soldier asked, his voice modulated through the face mask to sound intentionally more intimidating, though through the earpieces of the other blue boots, the voice of Sergeant Nurem was unchanged. No-one answered his question. “Anyone? Come on, someone must have seen him”

  “I think he was hit, sir,” said one of the other soldiers.

  Nurem looked behind and the HUD in his visor identified the soldier as Alpha Three, Corporal Albern.

  “There was a grenade. He took the blast full on, from what I could see,” Albern added. “I think he’s gone, sir.”

  Nurem looked around, trying to cycle through the different sensor modes in his visor, but the radiation level was too severe, and nothing was working. There was also no sign of the three hundred other survivors that they had come for.

  Nurem looked at the bodies of the UEC soldiers sprawled across the craggy slopes, their blue armor glinting in the sunlight, and he felt anger surge through his veins. He slowly turned to the four prisoners and focused this anger on them. His voice was raised and further amplified through his mask’s modulator so that his malice was intensified also.

  “We came to return you home, and instead you do this?” he spat at the survivors, who were on their knees looking down at the dirt. “You don’t deserve to be rescued, scum. We should leave you here to rot!”

  “What do we do, sir?” asked Albern, anxiously. The loss of Major Page had rattled him. “Do we leave them?”

  “No, our orders are clear. In the event that Major Page is killed or missing, we return to base for new instructions.” Nurem turned and looked at the prisoners. “But we’re not going anywhere just yet.” He walked up to the nearest of the prisoners; a middle-aged man wearing a UEC deck crew’s uniform. He placed the barrel of his rifle onto the man’s bottom lip and then forced his mouth open and shoved the barrel inside his mouth, hearing metal scrape against enamel. The man winced and tried to back away but Nurem pressed forward and eventually pinned him to the ground, the rifle pressed into the back of his throat so that he began to choke on it. He watched him squirm and resist for a few seconds, allowing his anger to spill over.

  “As for these scum…” he said out loud, jabbing the barrel deeper into the man’s mouth. “We take them back with us. One of them must know something. And I’m going to enjoy getting what I want.” He removed the barrel from the man’s mouth and then knelt down beside him. The man rolled to his side and coughed violently, spitting blood, mucus and broken pieces of tooth onto the dirt.

  “And I’m going to start with you…” Nurem said softly, but with a malevolence that would have been frightening enough even without the added menace of the voice modulator. He stood up and then kicked the man repeatedly in the stomach, the blows growing more fevered and intense with each strike, until the man vomited and lay motionless, half-dead.

  Breathing heavily through his face mask, Nurem looked up at Albern and said, “Take them away.”

  Chapter 25

  Major Karl Page raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun as it streamed through the cracks in his helmet’s visor. He was lying on his back looking up at a tree canopy far above, and as he tried to sit up he felt a wave of nausea sweep over him. He held still, breathing slowly and trying to focus on a nearby tree stump until the wave passed and he was finally able to roll to one side and get up onto his knees. There was a ringing sound in his ears and his body ached all over, but as he gingerly flexed his joints and muscles nothing felt seriously injured or broken. He silently thanked his armor, which was now scuffed and dulled all over from the fall. He looked up and could see the path that his body had carved through the mountainside as it flattened the tall grasses and dislodged soil and stone along the way. He had probably fallen a hundred meters in total.

  His visor began to flicker on and off, and this was doing nothing to alleviate the sick feeling in his stomach, so he gently grabbed the helmet, removed it and held it in front of him. There was a hole punched through the right ocular lens – the weakest point of the visor, though it would still have taken a sharp impact to do that amount of damage – and certainly without the visor in place, whatever he had hit would have killed him. He tossed the broken helmet to the side and stood up slowly, grateful that the nausea was now subsiding. It was then he realized that his sidearm was missing. The prospect of being unarmed, knowing what prowled the dark corners of this world, disturbed him greatly and he began frantically searching through the undergrowth to find it. After an extensive search, it was not to be found, and Page concluded that it had either fallen out of his holster some way down the mountain, or immediately after he was struck by the shockwave from the grenade. The same would be true of his rifle; he had a vague recollection of that flying from his grasp.

  A bleeping sound alerted him to his PVSM. What now? he thought, as if matters couldn’t get any worse. He checked the display panel and saw that they could. His toxicity levels had risen dangerously, though thankfully not yet to an irreversible level. Wasting no time, he initiated a booster shot of meds, flinching as the injector penetrated his neck and forced the serum into his bloodstream. He then watched anxiously as the toxicity indicator began to fall,
and breathed a sigh of relief as it held at a safe level.

  According to his PVSM, he’d only been unconscious for just under an hour, which was too short a time to account for such a rapid rise in toxicity. Then he remembered his broken helmet and realized the reason; without the full protection of his armor, including the air filtration systems, his exposure had been greatly increased. It was also apparent from the readings that the radiation level around the mountain was especially high. He remembered how the sentry’s scans had shown the top of the mountain to be curiously flat, as if it had been smashed inward, and he presumed it was possible the mountain could have been hit by a large fragment of the refinery, over a century ago. He shivered at the prospect of what might have happened if he’d remained unconscious for longer; the risk of G-DARP terrified him more than anything, even more than dying. He needed to get back to his unit, and back to the relative safety of the transports; there he would be able to find a spare helmet to once again shield him from this noxious atmosphere.

  His muscles felt stiff and bruised, and his armor suddenly felt very heavy, but he managed to climb back up the side of the mountain, using the path he had created during his inglorious descent as a guide. He had hoped to catch sight of metal glinting through the low grass as he climbed, but he was out of luck; his sidearm remained lost and he remained unarmed. Out of breath and aching all over, he finally reached the plateau behind the outcrop that had hosted the ambush. It was now deserted, other than an ominous pile of dead bodies, which he initially resisted looking at. Instead, he quickly searched the area for weapons, but none remained; it was likely they were gathered up by his unit for spares and ammo. The pile of bodies still hung in his peripheral vision and could no longer be ignored; uneasily, he drew closer and caught sight of the UEC patch on the arm of one of the corpses – it was a deck crew uniform. He turned away, not out of squeamishness, but out of a sudden sense of shame that arose from nowhere and threatened to overwhelm him. He dropped to one knee and felt his breathing and heart rate quicken.