Green Zulu Five One: And Other Stories From the Vyptellian War

by Scott Whitmore

  “West wall, north wall. Fire and move. Short bursts. Conserve shells, make ‘em count.” Siengha paused for a moment. “East wall, stay alert. Eyes front.”

  “Are they probing or is this it?” Oshiro’s voice on the command net in her left ear.

  “Probably probing, but could be a feint. We’ll know if business picks up on east wall.”

  “Sergeant! Vyp cannons have stopped!” The corporal’s voice on the command net was shrill. She was about to tell him to calm down when the perimeter net crackled in her right ear: east wall sensors had movement, danger close.

  “All stations, Papa Sierra. Stand by for attack in force. I say again, stand by for attack in force.”

  She was wrong, though, as the Vyptellians continued to employ tactics previously unseen. For forty minutes the aliens tested the outpost’s defenses, moving small teams forward and then back, against one wall and then another. Next they probed two walls simultaneously, with different sized groups, and then all three walls at once. At that point the cannonade began again, leading Siengha to wonder whether an all-out assault was coming or if the Vyps were simply gathering information while the humans burned off ammo.

  She was about to order a phased resupply of the walls when a large group of Vyps approached the corner where the west and north walls joined. Turrets on both walls moved to engage as an even larger group appeared on the tactical display at the west wall’s midpoint. The jackhammer sound of heavy weapons was once again heard in the Ops Center over the deeper drumbeat of cannon explosions.

  But what at first glance seemed to be just another test of the outpost’s defenses proved to be much more.

  Although turret crews were rotated between Vyp probes, the men and women guarding the walls had been tired and edgy even before the first alien assault. Now, as the initial surge of adrenaline faded they began to make mistakes. Weapons were fired before targets were in range or for longer than necessary, wasting shells and raising system temperatures; turrets were moved predictably between the same points or remained in one position too long.

  This last error lost the outpost, and the end came quickly.

  As the two turrets near the northwest corner engaged the enemy to their front, a salvo of two dozen rockets from portable launchers slammed into the other turret near the west wall’s midpoint, which was firing at the large group in front of it. But rather than remaining in near constant motion, the turret operator left the weapon stationary for too many seconds. More than twenty rockets slammed into the turret, disabling the traverse mechanism and freezing the weapon in place.

  Hearing the report over the perimeter net, Siengha instantly recognized the danger: about a third of the west wall was no longer covered by a heavy weapon, giving the Vyps a clear path into the outpost. Turning away from the tactical display, she picked up her assault rifle and checked the magazine. She looked at Oshiro.

  “Watch the other walls but be ready to run.”

  Switching to the perimeter net as she ran out of the Ops Center, Siengha ordered the quick reaction force to the west wall. She had placed the last green lieutenant in charge of the twenty-five soldier QRF and now silently hoped the young woman wouldn’t falter.

  Rounding the corner of the Ops Center, she got her first view of the wall as the Vyp cannonade stopped. Aliens were pouring over the twelve-foot wall like water through a breached dam, landing with dull thuds on the grated walkway attached two-thirds of the way up. A handful of human soldiers stood at the base of the wall, firing assault rifles up at the aliens, but as Siengha watched a group of Vyps jumped to the ground around them.

  Screams echoed through the perimeter net in her ear as the QRF arrived. She quickly arranged them into two firing lines, one prone and the other kneeling. The QRF fired volleys of charged rifle shells into the Vyps (and, she realized fleetingly, any human survivors of the wall breach) and for a brief moment Siengha thought they may stem the tide.

  But the stream of aliens crossing the wall didn’t slow and Vyps began to move laterally on the walkways, flanking the QRF and infiltrating the rest of the outpost.

  “All stations, Papa Sierra. Execute fall back plan. I say again, execute fall back plan.”

  Any hope of an orderly retreat to the redoubt in the south wall was overcome by the swiftly moving Vyptellians. Oshiro and the corporal on comm guard were killed when five aliens burst into the Ops Center with weapons firing. The squads manning turrets in the other walls were attacked from behind, with just a handful escaping as alien sappers tossed bundled explosives into their bunkers.

  Led by Siengha and the outpost’s last officer, the QRF executed a firing retreat, holding the aliens to their front at bay with massed volleys. They nearly made it to the south wall before a large group of Vyps slammed into them from one side, shattering the two firing lines into a confused mass as aliens and humans fought hand-to-hand.

  Ducking under swinging alien weapons, Siengha escaped the melee and ran for the redoubt, dodging marauding Vyps coming at her from all directions. Instinctively, she realized the outpost’s defenders were no longer an organized unit she could command. Each was on his or her own.

  Approaching the south wall, lines of green tracers reached out at her like thin fingers. She heard the crack as the slugs flew past and then grunts and hisses as they tore into Vyp bodies. A handful of soldiers had made it to the redoubt and were providing covering fire. Throwing herself into the nearest bunker, she turned and saw no living humans among the mass of aliens surging toward the redoubt. She grabbed the nearest soldier by the shoulder and pointed to the access hatch through the wall.

  “Go! Down the rope! Go!”

  Siengha brought her rifle up and began firing into the mass of Vyps while the others escaped through the hatch. When everyone else was out of the bunker, Siengha passed through the hatch and slammed it shut. She found one soldier left on the narrow ledge beyond the wall. He was hooked up to the rope but made no move to descend into the darkness of the ravine. He turned to her with wild eyes.

  “What if there are Vyps down there, too?”

  Without saying a word she shoved him off the ledge. The soldier cried out as he grabbed at the rope and began sliding down.

  What happens, happens, she thought, hooking herself to the rope and stepping off the ledge.

  A Promise Kept

  The Barribes space port security guard recognized Siengha on sight. Not who she was, of course, what she was.

  “Welcome back,” he told her and she nodded in reply. The guard, a man in his mid-twenties, wore over his heart on the dark blue uniform a small orange ribbon indicating he was a war veteran.

  They were standing next to a gate for ships coming in from outside the system. He offered to take her small carrypack but she refused with a head shake. The guard seemed to take no offense, falling into step with her as she searched for an exit from the cavernous arrivals hall. He pointed to an archway and she grunted her thanks.

  “Look, I know you’ve been in hours of counseling sessions and have had your fill of being told how things are now in the home system,” he said quietly, leaning his head in close to hers. “But give me a minute of your time, have a coffee with me before you head out, okay?”

  They passed through the archway into the space port’s main hall and she stopped, overwhelmed by the sight of it. It was even larger than the arrivals hall and seemed alive — all shining metal and glass walls lined with flashing viewscreens and thousands of people of all sizes and shapes, wearing clothing of every color in the spectrum, hurrying to and fro past kiosks and shops selling all manner of goods.

  The guard gently touched her elbow, guiding her in the direction of a small cafe just outside the arrivals hall entrance. “War’s been over five years now,” he said apologetically. “Come on. First cup is on me.”

  He pointed her to a small table in one corner before ordering two mugs of steaming black coffee at the counter. The guard set the mugs on the table and sat down across from her.
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br />   “I was one of the first, before they started the processing centers.” He wrapped his hands around the mug and stared down into the black liquid. “My father met me and we had a coffee, right here. Cost a lot more then, too.”

  The man smiled faintly at the memory before glancing up at Siengha. “Anyway, now I keep my eyes open on shift, try to pull you aside when you get here. Haven’t been many the past couple years. Most everyone is already back by now, I guess. Those who are coming back.”

  She nodded and took a sip from the mug. The coffee was hot and flavorful, much better than the leftover field rations at the processing center and heavenly compared to what they had brewed for themselves while hiding out on Neptec-2. She looked through the cafe entrance at the bustling space port. “Doesn’t seem real, but I suppose everyone tells you that.”

  He shrugged, apparently not wanting to minimize what she was experiencing. “I struggled with it, too. They were just coming off the war economy when I got back, so there was still rationing and not everything was available. Back then, you could tell there had been a war. Now … well, I’m sure they told you, most people won’t ask and don’t want to know. Hey, can I see your ident chip?”

  He pulled a datapad from his belt and plugged in the small square issued at the processing center after DNA confirmation of her identity. When the guard looked up from the pad display she could see he was impressed.

  “Wow, you won’t have to worry about getting by for awhile, maybe ever. You’re one of the very first.” He detached the ident chip and pushed it back across the table. “Well, Sergeant Siengha, believe it or not you — all of us, really — have the Vyps to thank for that. The first post-war council wanted to take back our credits, use ‘em to rework the economy. The Vyps said no to that.” He tapped the orange ribbon on his chest. “They also let veterans represent themselves as such when everyone else wanted to just ignore what happened.”

  Siengha took another sip of coffee, processing what the man was saying. So many had been involved in the war. Generations, whole families, grandparents, mothers and fathers, sons and daughters. How could anyone ignore it? She could understand the people of New Earth welcoming their release from privation and the fear of losing their loved ones. But to pretend it never happened?

  They finished their coffee in silence, which she appreciated. Whatever the guard wanted to impart to her, comradeship or just a soft landing on her return, he seemed content that it had been accomplished.

  “Thank you for the coffee, but I have something I need to get done.” She stood and picked up her carrypack.

  “Of course. I noticed you’re not originally from Barribes, so I’m guessing you’re looking for someone.” She nodded. “Try the Veterans Ministry office, but you may have better luck with the Orange Society. It was started and is run by veterans, and a lot of us find it more helpful than the government. Hope you don’t mind, I put the address on your chip.”

  * * * *

  The young man who introduced himself as an advocacy counselor waved at a worn sofa in one corner of the room. “Please, sit down. Do you want some coffee? Tea? Water?”

  Siengha shook her head as she sank into the cushions. The man grabbed a mug from his desk and topped it with black liquid from a portable machine on a table in the corner.

  After easing himself down on the opposite end of the sofa, he looked at her with curiosity. “What can I do for you?”

  She thought the Orange Society counselor couldn’t have been much over twenty, but he carried himself as much older. Part of it was the long scars on one side of his face, but also there was a seriousness to him that reminded her of soldiers who had survived a few battles. She glanced over at his desk and saw an image frame with a younger version of the man sitting next to a beautiful dark-haired girl holding an infant.

  He turned to see what she was looking at. “We met as flight officers on a base station.” Running a finger over the scars on his face, the counselor continued, “Got this when the escape pod we were in landed hard. Vyps hit the station in the Big Push … that’s what they call it now. Anyway, they knocked out all our ships and were hitting the station hard, so we had to punch out. Station blew up right after.”

  “How long were you a pilot?”

  “Three years, started at thirteen. I’m not sure we were really pilots.” He smiled ruefully. “We controlled the ships remotely. First Vyps I ever saw in person was when they flew us off the planet we landed on.”

  “Oh?”

  “Mmm. There was a couple hundred others from the station who landed with us. The Vyps passed us by so we just made do. Set up a settlement, cultivated some crops. It wasn’t easy but most of us were pretty young and overdue for some hard work.”

  “How long were you there?”

  “Couple years. We had comms, so we knew about the surrender and some wanted to come back then, but others liked what we had and wanted to stay.” He laughed. “After three years on a space station, feeling dirt between your toes, jumping into a river or lake … those were hard to give up again so soon.”

  “I suppose so.”

  The man chuckled. “As a ground pounder I’m sure you never lacked for dirt to squeeze between your toes. Anyway, it took time to coordinate the transport. A lot of people were stranded across the galaxy, I’m sure you know, and at that point the Vyps weren’t allowing us to have long-range ships.”

  “Why did you decide to come back?”

  He pointed at the image frame. “Our daughter was born there but we wanted her to know any family we had left. We talked about it just being a trip, returning to the settlement after a year, but then we got here and decided it was best to stay.”

  “Did you have much family to introduce her to?”

  “Some. More on her side here on Barribes. That’s why we settled here.” He set the mug on the floor at his feet. “Enough about me. How can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for the family of a soldier I served with. A second lieutenant; I was his platoon sergeant.” Siengha licked her lips. “He was a flight officer, too. I suppose if the war had kept going, maybe I’d been your sergeant, too.”

  The counselor nodded. “I was about a year from being too old to fly remotely. Why do you want to find his family?”

  She sat quietly for a moment, ordering her thoughts into words. Then she told him about the retreat from the Towers. He listened quietly at first and at the point where she thought he may react, he did, his face twisting as if he’d smelled something slightly unpleasant.

  At the end of the story, she added, “From your face I guess you read that book, too. At the processing center we heard the guy, Furman, was using Vyp records to write it.” She shifted in her seat. Nodded. “I read it. Most of us did. We wanted to know more about them. About what happened.”

  He leaned forward and quietly said, “You didn’t know. You couldn’t know.”

  “No.”

  “You were following Command procedure, leaving h—”

  “Yes.”

  There was silence for several moments, until she added, “I made a promise. He’s listed as missing, presumed dead. His people should know more than just that.”

  The counselor sat back and stared at the ceiling. “Our families were told the same thing about us. Right after the surrender, things were very confused. The new Council disbanded the Military Command. So many soldiers were scattered around and comm networks were shattered. No one knew much of anything for sure. Then the Vyps returned their prisoners, which was the best news possible for some families. But not for others.”

  He turned to face Siengha. “We were able to get word to our families a few months after the war ended. My parents were happy, of course, but they told me it was very hard seeing one family celebrating the return of their son or daughter while next door the people sat and waited.”

  There was a pause as he studied her face. “You know, they may not want to talk to you. Even if they’ve accepted he’s gone.”

 
“I know.”

  “Give me the name and unit, I’ll see what I can find out.”

  She waited on the couch as he accessed a data terminal on his desk and attached a comm device to one ear. Siengha sat back and let her mind wander, suddenly feeling very tired. She had been on the go since arriving on Barribes three days earlier and couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t felt on edge. Without realizing it, she dropped into a shallow sleep.

  “Hey, hey. Sergeant Siengha. Hey.” The counselor’s soft voice brought her back to wakefulness.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, sitting up and quickly wiping her chin as her cheeks grew warm.

  “No problem. You’re not the first to find this comfortable.” He patted the cushion he was sitting on. “I learned early on not to grab or shake ground pounders when they’re sleeping. Nearly got my head taken off.”

  She smiled despite her embarrassment. “Smart.”

  Siengha stood up and stretched, feeling the muscles in her legs and back loosening. She walked to the coffee machine and poured some of the hot liquid into a paper cup. Turning around to face the counselor, she flexed her head from side to side until the neck bones cracked.

  “How long have you been doing this?” She made a sweeping gesture with her free hand.

  “About two-and-a-half years.”

  “Since coming back?”

  “Just about. Once we decided to stay I joined the Society.” He also stood and stretched. “As I said, right after the war the new Council wanted nothing to do with the military and veterans. The Society filled a void.”

  “Government still wants nothing to do with us. The Veterans Ministry wasted my time.”

  He nodded. “Many on the Council today want to do more, but they also know how hard it will be re-gaining our trust. Veterans don’t handle betrayal well. So, they work with us quietly.”