Frontier's End: A Seth Donovan Novel

by Jim C. Wilson

  “This may be our only hope of getting out of here alive, so…you know…”

  “No pressure?” he said.

  “Yeah. No pressure.”

  3.

  I began to foster a growing respect for those in command of dire situations of the past. A hundred different things needed to be addressed before the next wave of assaults started, and for some reason these people expected me to provide guidance. I stopped overthinking it after an hour, started asking questions of how they would prefer to proceed and just nodding my agreeance. The people here knew what they wanted, they just wanted someone of authority to give them approval.

  I said as much to Ormund, whose logistical experience far outshone my own.

  When you look down at them from the walls, he said, what is your first thought, regarding them?

  I want to help them, I replied, I want to try and save them.

  The ablest of leaders, the finest commanders, are nothing more than experienced servants. They know how to obey, they learn how to follow commands. Your men know that you’re not just some rich man’s son given a prestigious command. They know that you earned it. The people there are looking for someone just like you. They thought they had it in Osiris Blackburn, but now you’re all they have.

  Lucky them.

  Hey, when the shit hit the fan, you stayed behind. You already made an impression on that Cohen kid, your actions on the wall so far have only bolstered their opinion of you.

  Alexander Cohen was one of the local fighters we had met previously. He had led scout teams out in the city ruins, tracking enemy movements. At least he did before the siege started. It was Alex who had guided us to the Sectis’ lair, a courageous act in the face of certain danger. He was something of a respected soldier among the younger fighters, one that even the older men and women liked. It was his idea for us to take over command of the defences, which ended up being extended to the entire refugee camp. Now civilians were coming to me with their problems – local leaders seeking rationing advice, medical resources and even one mediation of a dispute.

  These people know what they’re doing, though. I’m barely making any decisions at all!

  You are. You made one hell of a decision to just stick it out with them. I bet even now you are working on a plan to get them out of there, too.

  About that…

  What do you need?

  How many supplies will I need to keep four thousand people alive for three weeks?

  A lot. How much do you already have?

  Enough to feed five hundred for two weeks. Plenty of water.

  As a general rule, each adult needs 2000 calories a day to survive. There’s some leeway with that, of course, but anything less and they’ll start to starve. A three-week stretch is not too long a period to go without a proper diet. So as long as there is enough water, you can ration down to 1500 calories.

  How will I know the calorie content of crops?

  If you can get me a list of your supplies, I can have Zoe do the math for you?

  I also need you to go over those station blueprints for this region, I said, find me anything that shows us another way out below the sub-surface. The shafts down in the elevators lead into a maintenance passageway, I want to know if we can drain them and lead the civilians out that way.

  I’ll feed whatever I find directly to your overlay.

  With the information I needed, I rounded up as many of the local leaders I could find and gathered them around a barrel fire in the refugee camp. The nights were cold here, and people huddled around these sources of warmth throughout the night. While I waited for them to settle down and listen, I watched how they were holding up. They were scared, tired and eager for hope.

  “You’re probably wondering why I’ve asked you all here,” I began, calling out over the crackling of the fire, “I need your help with some things…”

  “Is the Protectorate coming to save us?” called an elderly man near the centre. His question was met with several nodding heads.

  I shook my head. “We’re it, for now. But we do have a plan, or at least we’re working on one.”

  “If they’re not coming, how will we beat this army?” another cried.

  “We’re not going to beat it, we’re going to go around it.”

  “They’ve got us surrounded!”

  “I brought my family here because they told us it was safe!”

  It was getting out of hand, as more grievances were aired and more questions were asked. They all started talking over themselves, and eventually I had to shout to be heard.

  “Everyone calm down! We’re not helping by losing our cool here. I said we’re working on a plan and I meant it, but I need your help. I asked you here because I was told you people are the leaders in this community. What I need from you is a stockpile and rationing of all food. And I mean all food. We’re in this together, and if we’re going to get out of this alive, everyone needs to be fed. No hoarding, no hiding food.”

  “Where are we going to get more? We need to feed our families first!”

  “I understand that, but if we can get an accurate accounting of what food we have, we’ll know how far we can travel in the time that we have.”

  A hard-faced woman near the front raised a hand. I nodded to her.

  “Where are we going to go?” she said.

  “The Jump Gate,” I waited until the murmuring subsided, “We have a pretty good idea where we can get a ship, but we need to be able to feed everyone to get us there. It’s roughly a three week trip to the Jump Gate, and I have someone who can work out how much food we need, but first we need to find out how much we already have.”

  “What if it’s not enough?” she said. The others nodded again, looking at me in askance.

  “Once we know our shortfallings, we’ll have a clear objective – obtain more food.”

  “Where?” cried out another woman.

  I smiled and pointed up into the night sky. Several of them looked up and had confused looks on their faces. I didn’t blame them.

  “What do you mean?” said the first woman.

  “There’s a whole fleet’s worth of supplies up there, just waiting to be taken.”

  The murmuring started again, but the woman just looked at me and gave me a sad smile. She stepped up to me and held out her hand. I took it.

  “I’m Merade. I came here with my husband and three boys a few months ago. My husband died three weeks back – killed while trying to protect the other refugees. My eldest two boys died last week trying to do the same thing. My last lad is up on that wall right now. If you say you can get these people to safety, I’ll make sure these whingers pull their weight.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am. I truly am.”

  “I know you are. That’s why I’m doing this.”

  “Any help will be greatly appreciated. I’m not from these parts, so I don’t know how to motivate these people, only the soldiers. If they can help me, I will do my utmost best to try and get you and the others out of this system.”

  “You need anything else?”

  “I’m working on an escape plan to get people out of here, through the elevator shafts in the tower. Once I have directions through the sub-surface tunnels below, we’ll be evacuating through there. I could also use someone with some welding experience who doesn’t mind getting wet. Once we’re out of the university, we’ll need to get to that spire, about forty kilometres ringward. Anyone who needs assistance marching, we need to organise carrying or some other form of mobility.”

  “We’re all used to marching long distances. Some of us walked for weeks to get here. Those who couldn’t make it…it was a tough decision, but tough decisions are what let us survive. I’ll see what I can do about that worker.”

  “I’m sorry…I didn’t know things had gotten so bad here. No one knew.”

  She patted my arm in a motherly gesture, smiling again. She turned and joined the throng of community leaders, talking with them in a firm voi
ce.

  Ormund, I texted, I need one more thing.

  Name it.

  Find me a ship out there that hasn’t been picked clean by the Ghantri.

  We’ll start working on it right away.

  And tell me the shelf life of Protectorate fleet ship rations.

  “Merade!’ I called after her, “What’s the name of your son?”

  She smiled at me, again. “Alex Cohen.”

  4.

  “LT!” crackled my handheld radio, “There’s movement out here!”

  It was Harris, ever the watchful sentinel. I had him in the highest part of the wall, with the best eyes in the defence. I guessed I wouldn’t be getting any sleep after all.

  “On my way.”

  I left Merade and company as they started to hash out a plan, huddled together around the fire. I had a good feeling about her, a feeling I’d found the right person to keep these people from falling apart. I would need her in the days to come, of that much I was certain.

  I jogged to my section of the wall, nodding to the assembled men as they began to man their posts once more. Civilian runners were still delivering battery cells from the tower, making sure the soldiers had at least one cell each. I drew my lurzak blade, and held my trusty PX-2 in my off-hand, inspecting the men and women at my direct command. Kekkin was on the rooftop by my right, yelling with gusto at his troop. I could see Renthal to my left, motivating his own group in a similar manner.

  The soldiers with me were by no means professional or disciplined, but they were determined and hardened by recent experiences. I needed to keep that determination alive in them, during the next few hours, if we were to survive the next assault. I needed to buy the time needed to prepare for my plan to succeed. If the wall fell while the civilians were still evacuating, they would be slaughtered.

  “There!” called one of my soldiers, a woman who couldn’t be older than Zoe. She pointed out over the barricade into the night. I scanned the terrain, the ruined buildings, and structures. I could make out an undulating sea of bodies creeping through the dark.

  “Hold your fire!” I called. Harris, I texted, show me what your optics can see.

  Harris, whose eyes were cybernetically enhanced to see in low light conditions, began to send me still images of the terrain. I started to mark the enemy positions on my overlay, letting my tactical app do the rest.

  “Sir!?” called a soldier to my right. I could see the tension in his features as he gripped his rifle with white knuckles.

  “Hold fire. We’re waiting until they’re close enough for the lights.”

  We waited for several tense moments, as we let them creep closer to our defences. When they were less than a hundred metres from the walls, I reached into a utility pouch on my hip and drew out a flare gun. I fired the flare into the air, signalling the people on the wall. At my command, hundreds of high-powered spotlights illuminated the creeping horde. The ranks of raiders recoiled at the sudden brightness, rising from what cover they crept behind.

  “Fire!” I yelled, my voice carrying across the walls.

  Bright flashes of laser fire and hardlight bullets slashed through the ranks, cutting them down by the dozens. I waved my hands at Geko’s squad, manning a catapult he had constructed during the day. It launched projectiles made of glass bottles filled with flammable liquids, and a small detonator ignited the bundle when it landed. Flames blossomed out over the enemy. Screams rang out down below, while the wall erupted in a great torrent of hardlight.

  The front ranks of the enemy faltered, unprepared for such a slaughter. Renthal’s laser artillery raked through the shaken foe, and within minutes they fled.

  The soldiers on the wall cheered at the fleeing enemy. It was a momentary victory, I knew, and didn’t share in the celebration. I ordered half of the soldiers to get their cells back to the runners for recharging, waiting before I prematurely disarmed my own weapons.

  When the battlefield was clear, we left the lights on, widening the guarded area around the wall. We could not run these lights indefinitely, but they had performed their function admirably. They wouldn’t surprise the enemy again.

  My radio crackled to life, once more.

  “LT, Harris here.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I only counted a thousand in that wave. I think it was a probe.”

  “I think so, too. They’ll probably do it again a couple of times before the main push.”

  “How long do you think?”

  “An hour. Maybe less. It’s what I’d do. The third wave will be even less than that. The enemy commander will have our strong point mapped by then.”

  Kekkin spoke up over the radio, “We should move Renthal’s laser and Geko’s thrower. Calak will target them first chance they get.”

  “Make it happen. All positions, any casualties?”

  A few of the squad leaders reported minor injuries and one death. We had gotten lucky.

  The next probe attack came forty minutes later. We saw them advance into the light and dig into cover. They were right at the periphery of our range, and I didn’t want troops wasting ammunition by firing at long range, so I ordered everyone to hold their fire again.

  “They’re waiting to see if the heavy weapons fire,” said Kekkin.

  “Okay, let's give them what they want,” I signalled for Renthal to open up.

  With a low pitched hum, the laser stabbed out into the night, saturating the white light with crimson energy. Several of the enemy were burned before the wave charged, converging on the section containing the artillery piece. I let them get closer, then signalled for Geko to fire.

  During the wait, I had gotten Geko to range the catapult to cover the heavy laser, knowing they would charge it.

  The soldiers opened fire, adding to the destruction caused by the fiery death raining down on the enemy. Dozens made it to the wall, but I’d reinforced Renthal’s position. When the first raiders managed to reach the walls, several of the raiders tossed pipe bombs and improvised explosives. Others threw rappelling lines or carried ladders. What few managed to reach the top were easily cut down by the extra soldiers I had posted there.

  The second wave was pushed back, a handful of survivors fleeing beyond the range of our lights. This time, the cheering was less energetic. Casualty reports started to flood in and I mentally calculated where reinforcements needed to go. Correction, we didn’t have reinforcements, I had to shuffle my forces around to even out the numbers.

  “What’s next?” asked Renthal, breathing heavily into the radio.

  “The kak will know our rate of fire for the thrower, now,” said Kekkin, “They’ll be able to field enough men to push through it.”

  “Activate the mines?” asked Geko.

  “Not yet. I want to save those for the main assault,” I said.

  “Move the guns again?” asked Renthal.

  “No point, they’ll just wait until we fire it before mustering on that position. Sorry Renthal, you’re their target for now.”

  “I’m ready.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s turn off the lights next time they charge, let them stumble in the dark a little when they’re out there.”

  “Naga-zak!” called Kekkin, a chortle in his voice, “Squad leaders can direct each section’s fire, we all have tactical app.”

  “Yup. They’ll bring torches for the main assault, but this should give them something to think about. Triptych, I want those sentry drones in the air for this one, too. No more than a hundred metres from the wall.”

  Another wave of runners arrived, and my troops eagerly reloaded. I waved one away, I had not fired a single shot yet. More runners arrived carrying water containers, dealing out refreshments to the men. I questioned one about who organised it.

  “Merade, sir! She’s got us all drawing water from the shafts while the pumps empty them.”

  I let him go, grinning. I just had to hold out for a while longer. It was time I let the others know of my pl
an. I went over the details over the radio.

  “How long will it take to evacuate everyone into the tunnels?” asked Harris.

  “A while, a couple of hours at least.”

  “The main attack will have started by then.”

  “I know. We have to give them as much time as necessary.”

  “And then?” asked Rego.

  “We fall back and join them.”

  A soldier nearby, the woman who had called out earlier, overheard the discussion. “Sir, if we fall back from the walls, they’ll spill over and overrun us.”

  I looked at her. “We can hold out until there’s a lull in the fighting.”

  “She’s right,” said Kekkin, “No guarantee the kak will let up.”

  I started to feel the frustration building up. “I’m not going to leave people behind.”

  “We’re not just people, sir, we’re soldiers,” said the woman.

  Alex spoke up. I had given him command of his own squad, as I had done so with other local soldiers with command experience. “Remember when we talked before sneaking into the Sectis’ lair?”

  “Of course,” I said.

  “Everyone on this wall is ready to die so those people can get to safety.”

  “I’m not going to sacrifice these soldiers.”

  “Not all of us, but you will need to leave some of us behind. It’s our fight, Seth. We’re ready to do what’s necessary.”

  “Naga Team will stand with you, kitrak,” said Kekkin. The rest of the squad voiced their agreeance.

  “No,” said Alexander, “Your place is in the sky. The civilians will need Naga Team to get off this station. When the main attack starts, get down into those tunnels with my people and lead them to safety.”

  “I’m not going to order these men and women to stay while we flee. We’re not Osiris, we’re not like him!” I almost shouted into the radio.

  “You won’t need to. They knew this was a fight to the death. At least now you’ve allowed their deaths to mean something.”

  “This is not the way!”

  “It is. You know it’s the only way this is going to work. We hold the line, while you get the civilians to safety.”