by Jay Allan
The Ten Thousand
Portals Wars II
By Jay Allan
Copyright 2014 Jay Allan Books
All Rights Reserved
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The First Imperium (Crimson Worlds IV)
The Line Must Hold (Crimson Worlds V)
To Hell’s Heart (Crimson Worlds VI)
The Shadow Legions (Crimson Worlds VII)
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Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.
- Friedrich Nietzsche
Part One
Anabasis
Chapter 1
From the Journal of Jake Taylor:
Trust. It is the hardest thing to embrace, especially when you have seen what I have, been through the hell to which I was consigned. Yet it is also one of the greatest things man can experience, to rely without doubt on others, to know they are there for you, that if your vigilance fails they will step in and lend you their own strength.
It is something people don’t understand well. They place their trust carelessly, recklessly, seeking to feel better, to convince themselves they can rely on those who have not earned such confidence. Organizations cannot be trusted, nor governments. By their very nature, they are changeable and soulless, subject to the caprices of those in positions of power. It is a great fallacy that groups and institutions are trustworthy, a foolish misconception that continually causes mankind to make poor choices, to tread down dark roads that lead to slavery. Vigilance is the cost of maintaining freedom, questioning everything and demanding proof of all you are told. Yet that is a heavy burden, one most people cast aside for the drug of false trust.
My life has been one of sorrow and pain, inflicted on me by an evil regime bent on maintaining its power at all costs. All I once believed in was a lie; those I called my leaders were soulless monsters. I was a fool, believing in things because I was told to, because it was easier, because I did not think for myself. I am as guilt-stained as anyone, for once I willingly followed the powers I am now sworn to destroy.
My men, and those we must now fight as well, are all victims of this nightmare. Many innocents, led by lies into an unjust cause, will die before the stain is washed away. There is nothing I can do to prevent this. I must do what I must, regardless of the cost.
But there is good, even in the pit of hell, for it was in the middle of my ordeal that I rediscovered trust. In my battles there were men in the lines next to me, fellow-soldiers who fought with me, bled with me - who risked their own lives to save mine. I have served 14 years with these men at my side, protecting my back through the horrors of Gehenna. Through the years of deadly warfare those men became closer than friends, closer than brothers. I trust each of them with my life - a trust that has been forged through long years of bitter service together in hell. I know every one of them will do what I ask, no matter what the cost. I can never achieve the victory I pursue without the aid of those close to me, my comrades in arms.
But there is a weakness there too, for I know too well the difficulty of the task ahead of us, and I fear my friends, many of them at least, will die before it is over. They will die because of where I send them, the orders I alone give them. And I will see their cold, dead faces staring back at me for as long as I live.
“Keep moving. I want you in position and ready to fire in ten minutes.” Major Karl Young stood on the small rock outcropping, waving his arms to urge his troops forward. It was almost time.
Young was a true veteran, a ten-year man. He’d survived more than a decade in the burning hell of Erastus, and that was as true a mark of toughness as any warrior could bear. He was as close to fearless as a man could be, the survivor of a hundred bloody combats. But he was excitable too, prone to loud outbursts and over-the-top enthusiasm - so much so that his friends and comrades called him Frantic.
The troops were moving forward. He had a full battalion, all enhanced Supersoldiers. They were jogging faster than a normal human could sprint, carrying their full load of exos as they did. Young’s troops were moving to flank the enemy, part of General Taylor’s plan to cut off and surround the advancing UN forces. Young could feel the victory within their grasp, and it showed in his shouts and gestures. He was earning his nickname with every yell and wave of his arms.
His people were moving forward through a narrow defile, with high rock walls on either side. They were well in advance of Taylor and the main force. When the general launched his frontal attack, Young’s battalion would emerge from their hidden position and take the enemy in enfilade, just as Bear Samuels’ troops would hit the opposite flank. The Alantrian forces were marching through a tight valley. They’d have a hard time repositioning to face the threats coming in from all sides. Trapped between converging fields of fire, they would be slaughtered. At least that was the plan.
Young was aware that most of the soldiers they were facing were involuntary conscripts, just like him - and the rest of his men. He didn’t have any hostility toward the Atlantrian troops. Indeed, he sympathized with them. But the battle was almost underway and his blood was up. Once the fighting started, he knew it was either his people or the enemy. There was no room for hesitation in combat. Sparing an adversary was likely to cost the lives of one of his own – and that was unthinkable. There was an unbreakable bond connecting the men who’d shared the hell of Erastus, stronger even than that between soldiers elsewhere. General Taylor had tried to show the Alantrian troops the truth; he’d beseeched them to desert UNGov and join the Crusade. If they wouldn’t listen, Young thought grimly, there was only one option. They would die.
“We’re in position, sir.” Lieutenant Hemmer’s voice came through Young’s implanted comlink. “The head of the column has reached the designated deployment area.”
Young nodded, a pointless gesture since Hemmer was almost a klick forward of his position and there was no visual link active on the com. “Very well, Lieutenant.” Young tried to hold back the excitement he always exp
erienced in battle. His face was flushed, and he felt the heat around his neck and ears. He was a gifted officer and one of Taylor’s most trusted compatriots, but he always had to struggle to keep himself calm. Frantic had earned his nickname more than once. “You may begin deployment.”
Almost time, Young thought, feeling his hands shake as they usually did before battle. Almost time. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and took a half a dozen deep breaths. Just like always, he thought…the same as every battle you’ve fought before. But he knew that wasn’t true. This would be their first combat off Erastus, and they were facing a group of troopers just like them, men who’d been lied to and pressganged into fighting an unjust war. Before, when they’d killed, the soldiers from Erastus had been facing the Machines – and then an army of UN career enforcers. Now they were about to engage soldiers who had been taken from their homes and shipped to a strange world to fight, men who should be their allies, but weren’t.
He took one last breath and flipped on the unitwide com. “OK, 5th Battalion…prepare for battle.”
* * * * *
Jake Taylor stood inside the HQ tent, staring at the monitor. The plan was complex, a series of maneuvers so intricate he wouldn’t have even attempted them with any but his own veteran officers and men. There were no less than six columns on the move, and when they completed their respective marches, all of UN Force Alantris would be enveloped – and subsequently destroyed in detail.
“It looks like everything’s going according to plan, Blackie.” There was a touch of sadness in Taylor’s voice. He would do whatever was necessary to destroy UNGov, but annihilating these soldiers, conscripts ripped from their lives just as he and his own men had been, was something he abhorred. He would do it because there was no alternative, but the thought of it made him sick. For an instant he wanted to leave HQ and run away – to hide in the wilderness and let someone else bear the burden. He inhaled deeply and clamped down on those thoughts. His men were all sworn to see this through, and Taylor had promised to lead them if they would follow. He’d never break that pledge, not while he still drew breath.
“We’re spot on, Jake.” Tony Black was Taylor’s second-in-command, his most trusted friend and confidante. “The men are maneuvering like they’re on the parade ground.” Black had been a little concerned about the complexity of Taylor’s plan, but the troops were coordinating flawlessly, and the hapless enemy forces had no idea what was about to hit them.
The UN forces on Alantris had been dispersed when Taylor and his people arrived, conducting the types of search and destroy missions common to the middle stages of a pacification campaign. The Machines had been forced onto the defensive on Alantris, but they still held large areas of the planet. Had held, at least. As soon as Taylor’s people came through the Portal the Machines broke off and withdrew from the planet, leaving the two human forces to face each other alone.
The Alantrian army hesitated for a few days, uncertain what was happening. Then word came through the Portal from the high command on Earth. The human invaders were rebels, murderers who had slaughtered their comrades. The orders were straightforward – attack and destroy them.
Taylor broadcast his entreaty for the Alantrian troops to join him. He told them of UNGov’s perfidy and the great fraud that caused the war. A few scouts and outposts deserted to join his force, but his story was just too far-fetched for most to believe. The propagandists from Earth had gotten to them first. They told them Taylor would lie to them, tell them crazy stories to try and subvert them. The Alantrians were confused, but most of them remained in the ranks and prepared to meet Taylor’s army. They’d been following orders for a long time, and most of them couldn’t imagine another course of action.
On Erastus, Taylor had been well-known, one of the senior officers, the first Supersoldier and a celebrated Ten Year Man. His words carried credibility, and the troops there had flocked to his banner. But no one on Alantris knew anything about Jake Taylor – except what UNGov was telling them.
Taylor’s army was concentrated, drawn up in formation all around their entry Portal, so the Alantrian forces formed up as well, and marched on their positions. Jake let them concentrate and advance, keeping his troops in place while they did. His apparent lack of aggressiveness lured his adversary in, and the enemy’s confidence soared. There were over 22,000 combat troops on Alantris, including a healthy core of veterans. Taylor’s forces numbered less than 14,000, and that included a large contingent of support personnel. The Alantrians expected to overwhelm and destroy the invaders, but they didn’t know that 10,000 of Taylor’s troops were surgically-enhanced Supersoldiers and hardcore veterans of the most hellish world where men have ever fought.
“Majors Young, Samuels, and Daniels all report their troops are in position.” Black stared at Taylor, realizing the general wasn’t listening. His friend had drifted into one of his periods of introspection.
Black couldn’t imagine the burdens Taylor was forced to bear, and how difficult it was for his friend to order the attack on an army of fellow-conscripts. Tony Black had grown up on the streets of the Philadelphia Metrozone, one of the most dangerous urban enclaves in the world. He’d known brutality since he was a child, and he’d learned to fight, for a scrap of bread or a dry place to sleep, at an early age.
Taylor, on the other hand, had grown up on a farm. He’d known hard work and poverty, but not the constant violence and filth of the ghetto. Black knew Taylor was a veteran now, one of the toughest who’d ever lived. But he’d also experienced love and family. Taylor acted like he’d forgotten about all of that, but Black knew it was still there, the flickering remembrance of a better time and place. He wasn’t sure if it did his friend any good, but he knew it made it that much more difficult for him to issue the orders.
“Jake?” Black raised his voice a little.
Taylor shook out of his daydream. “Yeah, Blackie…understood.” Even when Taylor wasn’t paying attention, the NIS implanted in his brain recorded everything he was told – along with every bit of sensory input.
Black looked over at his friend, but Taylor didn’t say anything else. “Jake…do you want to commence the attack?”
Taylor hesitated for a few seconds. Then: “No, Blackie. Not yet.” He stared back at his friend, and Black could see an instant of weakness in his eyes. “I want to address the enemy one more time first.”
Black let out a deep breath. He understood Taylor’s hesitation. But he also knew they had to win the battle. They were about to hit the enemy with a surprise attack from all sides. Warning them didn’t make any sense, at least not militarily. But he knew better than to argue with Taylor. “OK, Jake, but try to keep it short. Every minute we give them to react is going to cost more of our men before the battle is over.”
“Maybe there won’t be a battle.” Taylor’s voice was soft, with an odd tone. “Maybe they will understand.” He took a breath, knowing in his heart he was fooling himself. “Maybe they will understand…and we won’t have to kill them all.”
Black nodded slightly. “Sure, Jake. Maybe.” But he didn’t believe it – and he knew Taylor didn’t either.
* * * * *
“Attention all soldiers of UN Force Alantris.” Taylor stood next to the HQ tent, looking out in the direction of his deployed army. He couldn’t see the troops from where he stood, except for the reserve formations lined up waiting for the orders to advance. But he knew where they were, every squad, every man.
“This is General Jake Taylor, the commander of the Army of Erastus. I am addressing you one final time before battle is joined. My people and I are just like you, soldiers conscripted into the ranks for life, sent to a distant world to battle an alien enemy.” He paused for a few seconds, his mind racing for what he could say to convince them. To save them. “Like you, we once believed in that cause. Whatever suffering we endured, we knew we were protecting our homes, our families.” Another pause, shorter than the first. Taylor could feel Black’s tension a
s the seconds ticked off. It was time to launch the attack. “But that was a lie, a foul deceit conjured by those who used it to seize power.”
He held the Tegeri amulet in his hand as he spoke. The device was allowing him to communicate with every soldier in the opposing force, to slice through any jamming or other attempts to block his signal. “Watch your com units…witness what truly happened on the first colony worlds so many years ago.” He turned a dial and pressed a small button.
He remained silent for a few seconds. He knew the amulet was projecting the image of the colonial massacres on every com unit in UN Force Alantris. He couldn’t imagine the power that transmission required, the sophistication of the alien device he held in his hand.
He hadn’t thought much about it at first but, as he began to discover the capabilities of the amulet, he came to realize that Tegeri technology was far in advance of Earth’s. The Machines, he realized, should have been evidence enough of that fact. The manufactured biomechanical soldiers were extremely sophisticated, and Earth science couldn’t begin to replicate whatever process created them. But their weapons and equipment were more or less the equivalents of those possessed by the Earth armies and, in 45 years of constant war, the Tegeri never employed anything more advanced. War on the Portal worlds had been largely a contest between equals, at least in terms of armament.
Now Taylor was beginning to realize the Tegeri could have utilized far more powerful weapons. Indeed, he wondered if they couldn’t have easily crushed the human armies, even destroyed Earth itself. Almost certainly, he thought in answer. The fact that they didn’t was just more evidence to support the honesty of T’arza’s claims…and the basis for Taylor’s crusade.
