by Jay Allan
“I’ll take care of it, Jake.” Conversations between Taylor and Black were always informal, regardless of rank. The two had been closer than brothers throughout their years of service on Erastus, though Taylor’s near-total focus on the crusade had created a distance between them that hadn’t been there before. General Taylor was becoming a larger than life figure, and though he retained the loyalty and affection for his old friends and comrades, there was less of Jake, the man, remaining than there once had been.
Taylor knew he couldn’t dig in and hope the enemy attacked him. His army couldn’t fight a defensive war, regardless of what they were facing. Time was not his ally. UNGov had enormous resources, a whole world’s population and industry to draw upon. The longer the battle lasted, the greater their strength would grow. They could replace ammunition, troops, and equipment, while his army would only grow weaker, his logistics more perilous every day. But he still had half his men out digging trenches. He wasn’t about to underestimate his enemy again. He would borrow some strategy from the Romans. Everywhere his army went they would dig in, prepare as if the enemy was about to attack. He didn’t know what was going to happen - his army might lose the battle for Juno, wiped out to the last man. But no more of his men would die because of his overconfidence or carelessness. He promised himself that much.
* * * * *
Keita moved slowly down the narrow gravel path, a tall slim man in a set of dusty camouflage fatigues walking alongside him. There were 3 silver stars on the man’s collar and his name was stenciled on the front pocket. General Antonio Ralfieri was the commander-in-chief of all UN forces on Juno.
Keita himself wore an exquisitely tailored uniform, ornate and jet black with silver trim and a single large gold star on each shoulder. If he had to be here taking charge in the field, he was determined to look the part – though to the hardened veterans of the Black Corps, he looked like an absurd fop. There were a variety of amusing nicknames circulating among the rank and file, any one of which would have sent the arrogant politician into an apoplectic rage if it reached his ears.
He’d tried every way he could to get out of the assignment, but in the end he couldn’t refuse. He kept his Seat – even his life – only because of Samovich’s aid and continued sponsorship. There was no way he could say no to his patron. As a member of the Secretariat, he was essentially the UN’s viceroy on Juno, and the one man ranked higher than Ralfieri.
“The first battle appears to have gone well, General. The enemy has been thoroughly repulsed and has fled ignominiously back to their base camp.” There was satisfaction in Keita’s voice, and disdain for Taylor’s forces.
“We did reclaim the fortified positions the enemy seized from the Juno forces, Mr. Secretary, though I wouldn’t characterize their withdrawal in such terms.” Ralfieri was a veteran of combat on other Portal worlds, and he’d fought dozens of battles against the Machines. He’d never experienced anything like fighting Taylor’s troops, and he was still a little shaken by the tenacity and coolness under fire they had displayed. “I will remind the Secretary that we had 2-3 times the losses of the enemy and that we outnumbered them four to one at the critical position.” Ralfieri stopped walking and turned to look at Keita. “I would not expect a quick or easy victory here, and I strongly recommend that you do not promise such to UNGov.”
Keita felt a rush of anger. As far as this arrogant general was concerned, he was UNGov. He’d been a highly placed government minister even before he’d been named to the Secretariat. He was used to craven, obsequious fools, gathering at his feet, begging for his favor. People didn’t speak to him in so blunt a manner. But he was realizing the soldiers, the veterans especially, were different. They obeyed their orders, but there was a gruffer, more direct manner to them. Keita didn’t like it, not one bit - but he’d resolved to put up with it. The sooner Ralfieri and his men could wipe out Taylor’s traitorous bunch, the faster he would get back to the comforts of Earth. And tomorrow wouldn’t be soon enough for him.
“So what do you propose now, General?” Every word out of Keita’s mouth dripped with impatience. “When do you attack the enemy base camp?”
Ralfieri suppressed a sigh. He’d been excited at first at his new command, but that was before he realized he’d have a pompous windbag whining in his ear every second. Keita wasn’t military, but he was the Secretary of Off-World Military Affairs, the top bureaucrat in charge of all the forces fighting on Portal worlds. Ralfieri was stunned at how little the politician seemed to understand about soldiers and combat, despite years of supposedly supervising the war effort. He wondered if every top official at UNGov was so ignorant of the areas he supervised. “We must be cautious, Secretary. The enemy is extremely capable, as we just learned, even in our small victory.”
Putting up with Keita was a pain in the ass, but Ralfieri admitted to himself he’d still have taken the job, even if he’d known he’d have to deal with a Secretariat babysitter. It wasn’t wise to turn down an honor bestowed by the Secretariat itself, no matter what the reason. And the Black Corps was the most prestigious force UNGov had ever put into the field. A victory on Juno would likely bring considerable rewards, a plush retirement among them.
He hadn’t been given much background on Taylor or the cause of his rebellion, only that the first batch of enhanced soldiers had mutinied and were rampaging across the other Portal planets, slaughtering the UN armies they met along the way. He suspected that wasn’t the whole truth, but he was a soldier, and he followed his orders.
“General, we must conclude this battle as quickly as possible.” Keita wanted to get the hell off Juno, but he also realized Samovich needed a short war. The longer things dragged on, the more time Chang Li had to plan his move for when Esteban died. And it would be a disaster for Keita as well as Samovich if their mutual rival succeeded.
He’d considered approaching Li, offering to sell out Samovich in return for a promise he’d keep his Seat. But he’d come to the sad conclusion that he simply didn’t have enough to offer. Samovich had kept Keita out of the most crucial aspects of his plans, keeping him busy with an endless stream of trivial jobs. No, he thought, I’m Samovich’s man, like it or not. I will live or die with his success or failure.
“Secretary, you must understand.” Ralfieri’s face was red; holding back his frustration was driving his blood pressure through the roof. “We are still waiting for almost half our strength to arrive. It will be another week before the entire corps is assembled here.” He stopped and turned to face Keita. “We can’t even think about a large engagement until we are at full strength.”
“But you have the entire Juno army available as well as your people, General.”
“Secretary, our latest drone surveillance indicates that General Taylor is entrenching his forces. An attack against such a fortified position would be pointless. We would lose two to three thousand men and end up back where we are. And while the corps outnumbers Taylor’s forces, we won’t for long if we launch suicidal attacks and whittle away our strength.” Ralfieri had a bad feeling in his stomach. Keita didn’t strike him as the kind to listen to advice from those he considered beneath him. And he knew an attack on Taylor’s lines with half the corps assembled was a recipe for disaster.
Keita returned Ralfieri’s gaze. “Use the Juno forces as a screen, General. Have them assault the enemy trenches while your enhanced warriors move up behind. The regular soldiers will absorb the casualties, and your men can seize the fortifications.”
Ralfieri was silent for a moment, trying to hide his shock at Keita’s monstrous suggestion. “Secretary…the regular troops will be massacred coming in. They are far slower than the enhanced soldiers, and it will take them twice as long to reach the enemy position. Thousands will be killed…many thousands.” He could feel his heart sink as he looked into Keita’s eyes. It was obvious the slaughter of thousands of men was nothing to him, nothing at all as long as he got what he wanted.
“This war will not
be won without loss, General, and the regular forces are far more expendable than your troops.” Keita spoke calmly, almost like he was conducting everyday business in his office.
“But my men will suffer losses on the approach too, even if they are positioned behind.” Ralfieri had lost hope, but he was still trying. “And the Juno forces may break and rout before they reach the enemy. It will be a disordered mess, a perfect opportunity for Taylor’s forces to slaughter my men wholesale.”
“There is a line, General, between caution and timidity.” Keita’s voice was firm, confident. “You are ordered to organize the operation for tomorrow. Advance and assault the enemy’s line. Let us finish this without further delay.” Keita stared at the general with a look of pure arrogance. “There will be no further discussion.
Ralfieri’s gaze dropped to the ground. “Yes, Secretary. As you command.” He wanted to argue, to scream in frustration, but he knew it was pointless. A lot of men were going to die in the next 24 hours, and it wasn’t going to accomplish a thing.
The general snapped a quick salute. “If you’ll excuse me, Secretary, I have a considerable amount of work to do.”
Chapter 13
From the Journal of Jake Taylor:
I’ve never commanded in any fight where I didn’t come away carrying massive feelings of guilt. In the end, it doesn’t matter if the men were volunteers, if the battle was essential, if you stood with them in the line…all you see are the dead and broken men, and you know they are that way because they followed your orders. It’s impossible to stop the wondering and second-guessing. If you’d tried harder, if you’d studied the field more carefully…would some of those boys still be alive?
But since we left Erastus, there’s a different sort of guilt, one about the enemy troops we kill. I know those men are conscripts, just like my own soldiers. They were taken from their homes, stripped from parents and girlfriends and siblings, sent to a distant world, never to see home again.
They may fight us, but only because they’ve been lied to and conditioned…just like I was. Their situation is virtually the same as mine had been for 14 years…a decade and a half during which I ruthlessly slaughtered the Machines, driven by duty and an overwhelming self-assurance I was fighting an evil foe. I finally discovered the truth, but only after the Tegeri contacted me and showed me proof that all I’d fought for was a lie.
The soldiers on the Portal worlds have no such proof, just my impassioned plea for them to abandon all they’ve believed and fought for and join my soldiers. I wonder if I would have responded to such a call, if any of my officers and friends would have.
I understand how the men of the Portal world armies react, how most of them choose to ignore my pleas. There is no evil in that choice, no complicity with my enemies. They are told I am crazy, that my people are traitors, renegades. They act rationally with the information they possess, and I would probably do the same in their place.
But that doesn’t matter. I give the orders and we cut them down anyway, leaving none alive in our path. They never feel quite like the enemy, these soldiers we massacre, but that doesn’t stop us. My cause is a good and noble one; I believe that with all my heart, with a surety I never knew existed until I finally felt it. Why, then, must I do such terrible things to achieve that goal? Can any cause, however true and worthy, justify so much horror invoked in its name?
Is there good and evil in the universe? Or only different kinds of evil?
“Move your asses, all of you.” Captain Horace Jahn was walking down the front of the trench, watching his men shoving heavy logs in place along the front of the fortification. “We’ve got nasties on their way, and you don’t want those trenches caving in on you when they take a few hits now, do you?”
Jahn was in command of one of Major Young’s two battalions. With Hank Daniels still in the hospital and Bear Samuels’ command all shot up, Young’s people drew the assignment to man the front line position and to hold the new fortifications if the enemy attacked. And the enemy was on the way.
Jahn had questioned the logic of going to so much trouble to build fortifications, but now that the drones had spotted thousands of the enemy less than 10 klicks away, he was grateful to have them. He wondered how Taylor could have known. What strange gift did the general have, what clairvoyance that allowed him to lead the army to victory after victory?
The army’s confidence in its leader was unshakable. Even after the recent battle, despite the heavy casualties, the troops refused to call the engagement a defeat. All estimates suggested Daniels’ and Samuels’ battered forces had inflicted at least 2 to 3 times the losses they suffered, against a force many times the size of their own. The morale of the Army of Liberation was as strong as ever, the troops ready to follow any orders Taylor issued, even if that command was to march through the fiery gates of hell.
Jahn stared down into the trench as he walked, watching his men continuing to fortify the position. He was going to keep them working until the enemy was in range. Every beam shoved into place, every rifle pit dug, could save a trooper’s life. He wasn’t going to waste a second of prep time.
He saw two of the men struggling with a heavy log. They weren’t his; they were from one of the new battalions, recruits from the Portal worlds they’d already taken. He jumped into the trench and grabbed onto the massive tree trunk, adding his enhanced strength to that of the two unmodified soldiers and slamming it into place.
“Thank you, sir.” The trooper was exhausted, and he gasped for breath as he spoke.
“You’re welcome, soldier.” Jahn nodded and hopped out of the trench with a single massive leap. “You boys report back to your unit now. We’re going to be in action soon.” The unmodified soldiers had no place on the front line, not when they were expecting an attack from the enemy’s Supersoldiers.
“Captain Jahn…” It was Major Young on the com, and there was urgency in his voice. “Prepare for action. We’ve got enemy forces less than 8 klicks out.”
“Yes, sir.” Jahn turned and started back toward his command post. “We’re ready, sir.” He felt the tension building inside him, the excitement and stress he always felt before battle. There was something else too…anger. He and his people owed it to Samuels’ and Daniels’ men to make the enemy pay. And they were going to do precisely that, no matter what it took. “Don’t worry, sir. None of them will get past us.”
* * * * *
“Frantic’s units should be engaged any minute.” Black was staring at a map displayed on a small tablet as he spoke. “The latest drone reports show the enemy moving into mortar range.” He looked up at Taylor. “Should I order him to open fire?”
Taylor looked off in the direction of the front line. He couldn’t see it from HQ – there was a large hill blocking the way – but he had the picture of it in his mind anyway, every centimeter. Taylor had been up there most of the last few days, walking among the men, even helping to build fortifications. After what had happened to Daniels, he’d been determined to position himself dead center in the forward trench line when the enemy attacked, but his officers had unanimously intervened and insisted he return to HQ.
He was the one man the army could not afford to lose, not only its heart and soul, but also the single human being the Tegeri had chosen to contact. If Taylor fell, the crusade would fall apart – they all knew it. Even Taylor realized that was true, though he was intensely uncomfortable thinking of himself that way.
The troops were well aware their only hope for survival lay in total victory. True believers or not, they all realized there was no going back. UNGov had started the war against the Tegeri by killing its own civilians; they imprisoned hundreds of thousands in thinly-veiled death camps; they consigned their soldiers to a lifetime on war torn Portal worlds with no hope of going home. There was no way they were going to allow a group of surrendered traitors to survive. No, it was victory or death for the Army of Liberation. Even the rank and file realized how much they needed Taylor
alive.
“Yes. His people are to commence firing.” Taylor’s face was twisted into a frown. He was troubled by the scouting reports on the approaching enemy. They were moving too slowly, too sluggishly. He had something in the back of his mind, a thought so dark he suppressed it at first. “However, please advise him to conserve ammunition as much as possible.” He looked up at Black. “And get Denisov’s people in supporting position in case we need to plug any holes.”
“Sure, Jake.” Black had a confused expression on his face. The trench position was a strong one, and they already had local reserves in place. “What is it? What are you worried about?”
Taylor sighed. “It’s just a hunch, Blackie, but I don’t like the look of that approach. It’s too slow.” He glanced up at his friend. “I’m afraid those are unmodified troopers in front, conscripts from UN Force Juno. And I’m worried they’re human shields for Supersoldiers advancing directly behind them.”
“But the regulars will get slaughtered charging that trench…” Black’s voice trailed off as realization set in. “And UNGov doesn’t give a shit how many men die as long as we’re destroyed.” His urban Philly accent came out, as it always did when he was surprised and angry.
“Just a hunch, Blackie.” Taylor’s voice was grim. He knew it was more than a hunch. He was sure he was right. “So let’s make certain we’re ready, just in case they get some undamaged Supersoldier units close enough to overrun a section of trench.”
“I’m on it, Jake.” Black turned around and walked a few steps, pulling out his com as he did.
I have to remember, Taylor thought as he listened to Black relaying the commands, what we’re dealing with…and stop underestimating what they are willing to do to defeat us.
* * * * *
