Revolutionary Right

by Wayne Basta

  The sky behind them was filled with flying blaster bolts as the other three transports in their group and the twelve fighters fired. She felt the impact as some shots hit them, but there were no warning alarms, so she ignored them. Focusing on one fighter, she tried to ignore the others in order to better bracket that one.

  Saracasi scored a few glancing hits against the fighter, but was unable to do serious damage through its shields. As she continued to try to get a target lock, the fighter suddenly exploded. When several more fighters went up in flames and smoke, she realized that they had finally reached their destination.

  With the fighters busy engaging the transports in the air, they had not noticed the additional targeting scanners that had suddenly appeared – or they had noticed too late. A handful of missiles and the SPC’s cannon had been a surprise, taking down four of the fighters in short order.

  While taking out a third of the fighters in a single volley was a big advantage, they were still fighting two-to-one odds.

  Saracasi searched for another target. This time, instead of one of the fighters pursuing the Cutty Sark, she selected the fighter that the Chimopori next to them was targeting.

  The combined fire from two turrets firing from two different angles was able to overwhelm the pilot, and they dropped another fighter.

  Now we just need to get seven more before they get us, Saracasi thought.

  When Zeric reached the forward command post, he was dismayed to find Lei-mey there. One of the reasons he had decided to take a position so close to the front lines, aside from wanting to be part of the action, was to avoid any of the politicians. Enro’s prime minister had been very supportive, but also very curious. The delegates hadn’t been any better.

  The command post was on a balcony of one of the city’s taller buildings. It afforded him a clear view down the street that he would be overseeing. Ignoring Lei-mey, he went straight to the edge of the balcony and put on the combat goggles he had taken from Dantyne. He activated the binocular function and zoomed out to where he could see the Alliance vehicles just coming into view.

  “Won’t be long now,” he said out loud. “Kumus, signal the other command posts that we have the Alliance vehicles in sight.”

  Kumus, working the comm, relayed the message. Zeric was relieved that, for a change, communication was not something they would be lacking. Along with the dozen encrypted comms they had taken from Dantyne, the Perth police force was well equipped with communication equipment. They had been able to distribute encrypted devices to every command post, ship and forward team.

  Surveying the street, Zeric checked the defensive positions. His position was the one that didn’t have a truck loaded with steel girders blocking the street. They did have an array of barriers set up just past a curve in the street. This would keep the Alliance forces from being able to fire on it from a long way out and would serve as a perfect bottleneck point. Most of their heavy weaponry was stationed around there.

  All of the side streets from the edge of the city to the barriers had been blocked off as best they could. Most of them were too narrow for the SPCs to maneuver down while their shields were active. Zeric hoped they would only have to worry about troops moving down them.

  “The transports report they have engaged the Alliance fighters. Bravo and Charlie positions report that Alliance vehicles have been spotted as well.”

  Nodding to Kumus, Zeric wished Maarkean luck. He then looked over the two civilians who had been assigned to protect this position. He’d failed to convince the police chief not to waste anyone on guarding him; instead, he had succeeded in only getting two inexperienced people. At least he would not be wasting the time of anyone who knew how to fight.

  Finally, Zeric turned toward Lei-mey. He was impressed that she still had not said anything. ‘Quiet’ and ‘patient’ were not qualities he would have pegged her with.

  “Why aren’t you back at the hotel?” he asked.

  Lei-mey gave him a dark look before saying, “I volunteered to help fight. Not hide in a hotel.”

  “You’re part of the Congress. You shouldn’t be on the front lines. And trust me,” Zeric said as seriously as he could manage, “guarding the hotel will mean you’ll see some fighting.”

  “Not if we do our job out here,” Lei-mey countered. “Lahkaba, Pasha and several others are on the front lines, and they are members.”

  “Lahkaba and Pasha have been in fights. I’ve seen them capable of holding their own. You haven’t. If I were you, I wouldn’t be so eager to see that change,” Zeric said, getting angry. He hated politicians. “And that doesn’t explain what you’re doing here, out of all the places you could have gone.”

  “I thought what you did on Sulas was a one-time thing?” Lei-mey said quietly enough that the others nearby couldn’t hear.

  “It was.”

  “So why are you here?”

  Zeric stared back. He was glad that she kept her voice low. He didn’t have a good answer to that question, and it wouldn’t do for the morale of the others to see him fumble the answer.

  “Let’s just say I see the value in this fight.”

  “I don’t know what game you’re playing,” Lei-mey replied quietly but roughly. “I’m willing to let you lead this battle and be a symbol to people. For now, you’re useful. But you made it clear to me you don’t believe in what we’re fighting for. There has to be some other motive. If I determine that those goals are going to harm us, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

  Zeric wasn’t sure how to respond. He had made himself out to be an uncaring mercenary to her before, when she had wanted him to join her fight on Sulas. It appeared she had taken that to heart.

  Before he could respond, Kumus announced, “Charlie position reports Alliance forces have entered the city.”

  Turning away from Lei-mey, Zeric peered over the balcony and took another look at the vehicles approaching his street. The first vehicle had just crossed from the unpaved grass around the city’s edge to the beginning of the paved street. He ordered Kumus to relay that and then to order their defensive teams to get ready, but hold their fire.

  Zeric tracked the SPCs as they floated down the street. It did not take them long before they were almost to the curve in the street. Soon the fighting would begin, and Zeric could be done with this intolerable waiting. Sitting and waiting for the enemy to come to him was not his favorite thing.

  “Tell the EMP teams to trigger their mines on my signal,” Zeric ordered. Their position had the majority of the mines, since they didn’t have a truck of steel. It was a long shot, but with luck, they’d do something.

  As the first three SPCs came around the bend, they trained their guns on the barriers in their way. Blaster fire filled the air, and the street was suddenly filled with a cloud of debris as the first barriers were pummeled by the cannons. The first barriers had no one defending them, and the SPCs continued to advance without resistance.

  When Zeric saw the vehicles make it past the first barriers and begin targeting the second layer, he turned to Kumus. “Activate the EMPs.”

  Zeric heard the popping sound of electricity in the air, but saw nothing. Invisible to the eye, the electromagnetic pulses were released; the three lead SPCs suddenly stopped firing and sank to the ground.

  “Open fire,” Zeric ordered, and Kumus relayed the message.

  From all around the street and from behind the second barrier layer, blaster fire shot out, converging onto the three stopped SPCs. Instead of the usual glow of energy shields appearing as the blaster bolts hit, they all made contact with the vehicles’ outer armor layers. Each defensive post had access to only a single heavy weapon, so the damage of each shot was relatively minor.

  Watching, Zeric counted down the seconds. It had been a miracle that the EMPs had managed to work, but he had no illusions that the SPCs would be down permanently. Unless they could do sufficient damage to them before they could reset, the vehicles would be moving again in moments.

/>   After several seconds of sustained fire, the right and left vehicles came to life and lifted back up off the ground. The lead vehicle failed to reactivate. The shields of the other two SPCs winked back to life, but Zeric was rewarded with the sight of the right vehicle’s shields failing again almost immediately.

  The defensive positions continued to fire on the un-shielded SPC. It started to back down the street and managed to get off a few shots from its cannon before it crashed back to the ground. The final SPC started to move forward again, but found itself without enough room to move between the nearest building and the former lead SPC, which was now motionless.

  “Keep the heavy gun on the active SPC,” Zeric ordered through Kumus. “Have all other positions cease fire and prepare to target troops.”

  Their entire plan hung on the next few minutes. The two disabled SPCs were acting as additional barricades for the street. It was only wide enough for two vehicles to move side by side, and the lead vehicle was sitting in the center of the street, which did not leave enough room on either side. If the remaining SPCs could find a way around or over the disabled vehicles, though, there would not be anything else to stop them.

  The heavy blaster continued to pepper the SPC, and Zeric saw some shots slipping through the weakened shield. The SPC turned its blaster turret and began returning fire. After a brief exchange, both positions stopped firing.

  Zeric scanned the street but was unable to see the heavy weapon’s position from his vantage point. Swinging back to the SPC, he was disturbed to see that the vehicle’s weapon still appeared to be functional. After a closer inspection, however, his mood lifted as he saw that the vehicle was no longer hovering off the ground.

  “Getting no response from our heavy weapon position,” Kumus said quietly. It was clear the kid was disturbed by this, but Zeric had no time to comfort him.

  “Won’t be the last position to go quiet,” he said. “Let all positions know the road is now blocked. Prepare for troop assault. Keep an eye on any side street movement.”

  Surveying the area from his position on the balcony, Zeric watched as three more vehicles came to a stop behind the disabled SPCs. In unison, all six vehicles lowered their rear ramps, and Alliance soldiers started pouring out. From positions all around them, blaster fire started raining down onto the troops, but it was intercepted by the SPCs shields.

  Sticking close to the SPCs, the troops started spreading out. Most of them made their way forward and took cover around the disabled vehicles. Groups of at least squad strength started moving toward some of the side streets that were blockaded. Zeric watched as the soldiers moved quickly to the barricades and then quickly away.

  “Let the roaming defense teams know that troops are about to come down two of the side streets,” Zeric told Kumus. Even as he spoke, two explosions could be heard, and Zeric watched the side streets fill with clouds of dust.

  He supposed things were going well. They had managed to stop the SPCs, and even though the troops were still advancing, they were on foot, which would slow them down. Zeric scanned down the street to find out what happened to the last three SPCs that had not stopped.

  While he was looking, Zeric was suddenly pulled to the ground. He looked to see Lei-mey on top of him, but before he could say anything, the roof of the building behind him exploded. A wave of heat and then a concussion of air hit him, followed by a shower of shrapnel.

  Dazed, Zeric stared into the vast cloud of dust that was billowing up. Confusion filled him, and he wondered where the dust had come from and what he was doing on the ground. Wasn’t there something important he was supposed to be doing right now?

  After a second, Zeric’s senses returned to him, and he realized the building they were in had just been attacked. He had known this would be a possibility, but he had been hopeful the Alliance would avoid causing unnecessary damage to the city. If they were shooting at buildings now, things could go very badly for them.

  Trying to sit up, Zeric felt a dead weight half across his own body, and remembered Lei-mey pulling him to the ground. He still couldn’t see anything in the dust. He called her name and realized he could not hear his own voice. He’d been deafened.

  Running his hands over the weight across his torso, he identified the clammy carapace of a Ronid. He checked for major wounds. All of the limbs appeared to be attached, but his hands did come away covered in blood.

  The dust cloud started to blow away with the wind, and Zeric was able to make out Lei-mey in the haze. Her back was covered in small holes from shrapnel, but she still appeared to be breathing. Shaking her, he was relieved to get a response, if just a groggy shift of the head.

  Deciding that Lei-mey would live, at least for the next few minutes, Zeric struggled to shift her off of him, and then stood up. There was debris everywhere. Going slowly, Zeric made his way toward where he had last seen Kumus. He found the boy’s communication equipment smashed under a piece of ceiling and feared the worst.

  Another minute of searching turned up the boy lying covered in chunks of debris a short distance away. Fortunately, all of it appeared to be light material, and Zeric was able to pull it all off of him. Kumus was covered with cuts, including a nasty one on his forehead, but was also still breathing, and he began to regain consciousness as Zeric pulled debris off of him.

  Zeric helped Kumus sit up, and then started looking for the other two who had been with them. Even though it was a small balcony, he only managed to find one of them. The unfortunate Ronid had been impaled by a piece of steel and was no longer breathing. He found no sign of the other one.

  He looked around and saw that Lei-mey was up, though on her knees. He experimented with shouting and found that he could almost make out his own voice. He added exaggerated gestures as he attempted to communicate with Kumus and Lei-mey. They both looked at him blankly. In frustration, Zeric grabbed each of them by the arm and pulled them toward the back of the room.

  Making their way through the rubble that had once been the floor above them was slow going, but Zeric got them to the door that led into the building’s central hallway. Once through, there was less dust, and Zeric led them toward the building’s emergency exit. As the three of them ran down the stairs, Zeric hoped they could get out before whoever fired on them decided to do it again.

  Maarkean watched as the last four Alliance fighters disengaged and flew away at full speed. It had been a costly engagement. Two police interceptors shot down, the Justice down for repairs, the Chimopori barely able to fly, the expenditure of all of the SAMs, their SPC destroyed and the Durandal and Cutty Sark weren’t in pristine condition, either. But they had shot down or forced down eight fighters and damaged two of the others. The skies over Perth were empty.

  Wearily, he turned the ship off of a pursuit course and back toward their ambush site. The engagement had been short, but the stress of combat made him feel like he hadn’t slept for days. He truly hadn’t gotten much sleep the last few days, and as the high started to wear off, he felt it tenfold.

  “Nice work, both of you,” Maarkean said to the other two on the flight deck with him. He had been impressed with the way Owrik had kept his head during the fight. The young Notha had kept track of all of the ships and the condition of the Cutty Sark. There had been mistakes, but nothing critical, and he had managed to recover. That was an important trait that most couldn’t learn. Experience would reduce the mistakes.

  He’d known Saracasi would keep her cool. They had been in tough situations before, and she had not panicked. It was her future that concerned him. Everyone reacted differently to having killed someone. Some of his friends from the Dotran war had broken down years later. He didn’t want that fate for his sister.

  Only time would tell. He had known pilots and soldiers who hadn’t been able to come to terms with what they had done. For now, Saracasi and Owrik both were stable and appeared able to handle more. That, unfortunately, was all he could worry about at the moment. The day was far from over. This wo
uld not be their last engagement.

  Setting the ship down at the base of the hill where the smoldering wreckage of the SPC sat, Maarkean focused on their immediate problems. Their intention had been to go next to capture the nearest Alliance base, but first he had to evaluate their condition.

  The other three transports set down beside them. None looked in great condition, but the Justice was clearly the worst off. Smoke drifted off damaged spots on the ship’s hull and was also billowing out of the open boarding ramp. Maarkean’s first impulse was to rush over and offer assistance, but he was relieved when he saw all three of Fracsid’s crew already standing a short distance away from the ship.

  Unstrapping himself from the pilot’s seat, Maarkean told Saracasi and Owrik to stretch but to remain on the ship. Moving quickly, he made his way through the ship and out of the cargo bay. As he exited, he saw several ground transports riding over to their impromptu landing site.

  While the transports approached, Maarkean walked the short distance over to where Fracsid and his crew were waiting. He was joined by Novastar and Ar’cher. Fracsid had always annoyed him, but the man had offered his help with no request for payment. And now his ship was burning.

  “How is she?” Maarkean asked with genuine concern. The crew had survived, but a ship was more than just a means of transport. To most pilots, the ship was just as much a member of the crew as anyone of flesh and blood.

  Fracsid had a distant expression that was in stark contrast to his usual happy-go-lucky attitude. With a cough, he said, “Engines are a wreck. I managed to get us down on thrusters, but just barely. We’re gotten the actual fires out, but there are a lot of things still smoldering.”

  “You saved Ar’cher’s ass with that maneuver, though,” Novastar said.

  Ar’cher looked uncomfortable; his antennae twitched and he half smiled. “Uh, thanks for that.”

  “Don’t worry, Frac,” Maarkean said, trying to sound reassuring. “We’ll get her running as good as new. Unfortunately, that will have to wait for another day. See to your crew.”