End of the Innocent

by Clark Graham

  “Be that as it may, when can I lead the second part of the attack? I want to go after that continent that has not been touched yet.”

  The commodore just shook his head. “You don’t have enough men. You just got here and don’t know what is going on. Let me show you on the map.”

  The monitor on the wall came to life with the touch of a button. The commodore continued, “Here we have two divisions out of the four we were given fighting in these thirty countries in the southern hemisphere. Intelligence let us down this time. There is no central government. Each small nation has its own army and they are battle hardened troops because they have been fighting each other for centuries. Here in this country, my forces are down to half strength. We brought the wrong body armor. We were not told they had rifled guns of high caliber. The bullets go through the body armor and I have lost thousands of men.”

  “Well, at least you have this country subdued,” Revlov said. His commander’s failures only boosted his chance for advancement.

  “I don’t. The army was defeated, but instead of surrendering or dissolving, they have broken into thousands of small groups. Each group lays low when large formations of my troops are in the area, but attack in force when small groups of my men are there. I have to keep tired and worn out troops in large patrols just to keep the population under control. I have asked for more troops, but to give me more will require postponing the attack of another world. I have not heard back from the admiral yet.”

  “That does look bad; are we going to be able to bring those thirty nations in the southern hemisphere under control?”

  The commodore sighed. “No. I have had to bring troops back to this land because of all the enemy guerrilla activity. We have men fighting ghost units. The enemy is there one minute and disappears the next.”

  “Then why did they send me here? I need to command troops in combat. I need to execute the perfect battle plan.”

  “So the only reason you are here is to get all of the glory that you can?” Zurken was pushing the arrogant captain as far as he could. He didn’t like the man.

  “You are lucky to have me. I have powerful connections. I have the ear of the emperor. There is a greater war coming. The emperor has no heir. I need to maneuver the best that I can so when the old man dies, I am in the best position to take as much of the Empire as I can for my own. Yes, I need glory down here. I need as much of it as I can get and you would be well served to help me as much as possible.”

  The commodore stiffened. To have the captain come out and lay it on the line like that was telling. He was a dangerous man. It was a veiled threat, ‘you either help me get what I want or I crush you.’

  The commodore heard it loud and clear. “I will take that under advisement.”

  “You had better, now, Andri, get me some troops as soon as possible; meanwhile I will go and plan my attack.” Revlov strode out of the room like he was on a parade ground with crowds of people watching him.

  Zurken knew he had been set up for failure. He didn’t have large spacecraft that usually followed an invasion like this. He only had cargo ships that held the small armed transports that he had been given to fight with. All of the large fighting ships were being held in reserve. Normally an invasion like this would have two to three times the troops. It was a simple land grab to get to the resources of the planet and then leave.

  Zurken waited until he was sure the captain was gone. He took aim and shot the throne again.

  Chapter Four

  Country of Santeria

  Mountains of Andrenees

  Greten looked out of his pillbox high up in the Andrenees Mountains. He had his MK39 rifle up against the wall of the structure. It was an old bolt action gun, heavy and long. The gun was unwieldy, a hand me down from the first rate troops when they upgraded to the ZTP1 automatic rifle. The ZTOP, as the troops called it, was lighter and shorter. The only compromise was it was a lighter caliber. The troops were positive that it would be enough stopping power for any enemy they faced. Now their allies in the other hemisphere were reporting the enemy wore body armor, the troops were not so sure they had the best weapons.

  “Garrison duty, that is what we are in for, boring Garrison duty,” Greten complained.

  “That’s what reserve troops do, garrison duty. I don’t want to be in the front line anyway. We are fighting an enemy we can’t beat. Garrison duty far away from the fighting suits me just fine.” Hal was Greten’s friend. His blonde hair and quick smile made him friends easily. He was a good looking young man, tall and strong.

  “I suppose you are right. How long do you think it will take for them to get here? The enemy, I mean. I hate not knowing what’s going on.”

  Hal smiled. “I talked to the lieutenant last night; he said that they have not attacked us yet. They seemed to be bogged down in the south countries. Besides they will never make it through these mountains, they are impregnable.”

  “I thought you said the enemy was unbeatable?” Greten asked.

  “So are these mountains. They may take everywhere else, but they won’t make it through here.”

  The land of Santeria had always expected that any invasion of their continent would come from the sparsely populated eastern coast.

  That would be the side of their nation that was closest to any foreign land mass. They had decided long ago not to defend the coast but make the coastal mountains as fortified as possible. They had pillboxes and tunnels and strong points all through the mountains. There were even enough supplies to last the troops for years built into large caverns. The only thing that the military planners never expected was attacks from the air.

  It was a chill mountain wind that forced the two of them deeper into their pill box. An hour later they were relieved by the new watch so they made their way back to their barracks. The barracks were in a sparse tunnel. Hollowed out of solid granite, the barracks were never warm. No fires were permitted because the smoke would give away their position. There was only a row of bunk beds along the wall, no other furniture to sit on.

  Hal and Greten stripped out of their uniforms and jumped into their bunks. Greten shivered at first, until he got warm enough. The army allowed them as many blankets as they wanted. Some of the troops even wrapped up in them while on guard duty.

  “Do you really think that we can hold out in these mountains?” Greten asked.

  “I am sure of it. How are they going to get at us here? Even if they get into the tunnels, all of the tunnels are rigged with explosives. We just blow that tunnel and they are isolated or dead.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Greten said as he drifted off to sleep.

  It was early the next day that the troops of the platoon were awakened and marched down to a storage area that had been converted to a meeting room. Chairs were all set up and the captain was there in front of the assembly.

  The captain waited until everyone was sitting down before he began. “There has been a lot of speculation as to what is happening out there so I have brought you here for the latest news. Our allies in Brodeen are reporting that the enemy is now holding their position and no longer advancing. This is a change that has happened just recently. We believe they are waiting for reinforcements. Let’s hope they don’t get them.”

  A cheer went up from the troops.

  The captain continued, “”As for us on this side if the world, we still don’t have any enemy on our shores. There are many over flights by their airships, but so far they seem content just to gather intelligence and not attack.”

  The lieutenant came to the front. “I have the duty roster for the day.”

  Hal and Greten both cringed when they were assigned kitchen duty. Hal put a positive spin on it as usual. “At least we will be warm next to the cooking stoves.”

  Chapter Five

  Livolis, Capital of Tricola

  Silca’s new husband smiled. These Tricolian women were beautiful, with their dark eyes and hair and their olive colored skin. His wife was t
he best of the best. At first the Nobellian had hated the fact that he had been sent to this outpost on the far side of the Galaxy, but now that he had a bride, things were looking up. He turned around to take off his shirt.

  He was hoping that Silca would be impressed with his well toned body. He had worked out to get his slim figure. When he turned back around all he saw was the flash of a knife as it entered into his chest. He clutched the knife in both hands as he fell to his knees.

  If he could have gotten out a word he would have asked why, but when he looked up, he already had an answer. There was a look of pure hatred on Silca’s face as she reached for the knife to stab him again. She didn’t have to bother; the soldier from the Empire fell over dead.

  She pulled the knife out of his chest anyway. It was called a Samfer, a highly bejeweled knife given to the women of Tricola on their fourteenth birthday. It was to be used for self defense, but in this case it was used for the defense of the kingdom.

  Silca rubbed off the blood on the soldier’s discarded shirt. She knew her family would hide her. The people of Tricola protected their own. Like they protected what was left of the army in hopes of one day taking the fight back to the invaders. The conquerors did not know this yet, but the war for the country would never be over until the last Tricolian was dead.

  She left the apartment and got into the car that was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. The car sped away towards the countryside and a hiding place.

  Commodore Zurken sat in his command chair that had been moved from the flag ship of the fleet he commanded. Captain Pavvlek stood by his side.

  “Revlov has sent out three more reports. In the first he says that you are not punishing the population for their insurrection. The second report tells of how you have wasted men in needless battles. In the third he states that you are not aggressive enough in attacking the enemy.”

  “So even in his reports he contradicts himself. Who is he sending these to?”

  “His father, the vice admiral,” Pavvlek replied.

  “Good, nobody that matters.”

  “How do we get rid of this man? He has been nothing but trouble since he got here.”

  “I have a plan. I have sent for him. He should arrive any minute now.”

  It was not long before Captain Revlov came in the door in his usual fashion, unannounced. “Andri, you sent for me.”

  Both Pavvlek and Zurken cringed at the insubordination.

  Zurken regained his composure quickly. “Yes, Captain, you are to be congratulated. You have been promoted to Acting Commodore. With that promotion comes the command of three divisions. Your task is to take the western hemisphere for the Empire.”

  “Ah, at last they see my true potential, but shouldn’t I have four divisions? That is what a commodore usually has.”

  “I was given four divisions to capture the entire planet. Surely someone with your abilities could do it with only two divisions, but take three just in case. I need the fourth division over here to supplement my efforts to subdue this rebellious land.”

  “I see,” Revlov said, as he contemplated things for a minute. “You’re right; two should be more than enough. Even one should be enough if one has good leadership skills. I will take the three over there and keep two in reserve. I may not even need them.”

  “Good man; start your planning as soon as possible.”

  “Oh, I have already planned. I was expecting this, well, a promotion, soon, so I have everything ready to go. I will get my supplies in order and then I will be off to fame and glory.”

  Zurken smiled to himself, “Good luck.”

  Revlov turned on his heel and marched out like he was the Grand Marshal of a parade.

  After Revlov left, Pavvlek started laughing. “You are a genius. He will make such a disaster of the attack that you will be forced to relieve him of command.”

  “I can’t lose. If he succeeds, I will get the credit for giving him the chance. If he fails, I can get rid of him.”

  “Genius, simply genius.”

  Zurken grew serious for a moment, “I need you over there as my eyes and ears. You will have command of the first division. Don’t let him waste too many of my men. If he gets out of hand, you know what to do.”

  “Yes, Sir ,” was Pavvlek’s reply.

  After Pavvlek left, Commander Tuniss came in, announced by the commodore’s aid.

  “What do you have for me, Commander?” Zurken asked.

  “Sir, the program of intermarrying our men with the local population is not working as it has on other planets. Our men are getting murdered by the brides. We lost another one last night. That makes thirty-two dead out of sixty marriages. Another fifteen men have been wounded and we have executed seven brides for murder or attempted murder. We are looking for the rest of the women. Not a single marriage has survived past a week and most of them have ended in violence.”

  Zurken shook his head. “I cannot have my men murdered in their sleep. Suspend the program.”

  “Yes, Sir .”

  As Tunis walked out of room, Zurken thought to himself what a fine officer the man was. ‘If only all my officers were like him, I would have a fine army.’

  Chapter Six

  East Coast of Santeria

  The dark colored airships had over flown the coast on numerous occasions, but this time was different. This time there were thousands of them. It was ominous how no sounds came from the planes as they moved towards the inhabitants of the cities and towns. Many of them landed and disembarked soldiers. The black clad enemy moved out in all directions. They started taking over buildings and houses.

  Two soldiers came around the corner of the barn only to come face to face with the farmer and his shotgun. A shot rang out and the soldiers lay dead, soon green flashes from blasters cut the farmer down as more soldiers came around the corner. The scene was played out over and over again all across the east coast of the continent.

  One of the dark airships made lazy circles over the battlefield, watching and observing. Acting Commodore Revlov looked out the small window of the aircraft trying to gauge what was happening. He could see flashes of green lights from the enemy weapons but did not know what it meant.

  His aide drew his attention to back inside the ship. “Sir, we are taking casualties.”

  “What?” Revlov asked. He was upset. “How can we be taking losses when the army is hiding in the mountains or are on the other coast? All of our intercepted broadcasts are telling us that.”

  “The civilians are armed. They are shooting our men.” Lieutenant Lemkin didn’t like his commander, but he liked the fact that he was not on the ground getting shot at, so he did his job to the best of his ability.

  “Why would they arm the civilians?” Revlov spoke to no one in particular. He was dumbfounded.

  “I don’t think that they armed them, it is more that they allowed them to own weapons,” the lieutenant suggested.

  “How are the bullets going through the body armor of my men then?”

  “Not all of the bullets are going through, but they do have some high powered rifles in this country that can pierce the body armor.”

  Revlov shook his head, “this is bad, this is very bad. How many casualties are there?”

  “The first regiment is reporting up to ten percent casualties, the other regiments are reporting a lesser number of around two to three percent. The hospital staff has set up in a captured town and is now treating the wounded. Should I report this to headquarters?”

  “No, no, don’t report that. We will keep those numbers to ourselves for now.” Revlov then realized he was giving his subordinate a command that went against the standing orders so he started backtracking. “I only want good news going to headquarters; we will give them the bad after we give them the good.”

  Lemkin looked at Revlov suspiciously but still replied, “Yes, Sir.”

  Captain Pavvlek was on the ground with his men. He saw firsthand what was going on and he had no qua
lms about sending messages directly to headquarters without going through Revlov.

  The captain’s aide had made his headquarters in an abandoned farm house. When the captain entered the building, the aide reported, “Sir, the enemy is making a stand in the town. It is another group of armed civilians. We have them surrounded but they are not giving up.”

  “Very well, what are the casualty reports?”

  “Still bad, Sir. One hundred and twenty three reported killed or wounded.”

  “Is Revlov going to send us reinforcements?”

  “No, Sir , we are being told that we can have only the troops currently landed. He does not want to send in the reserves.”

  “I am near the end of my rope. If fresh troops are not landed soon, I will have to stop all offensive operations.” Pavvlek didn’t mind admitting that.

  His aide was shocked, “you don’t want me to send that, do you, Sir?”

  “Yes, send it. I have men securing the areas we have already taken, and with the casualties I will not have enough troops to keep going. Don’t gloss over anything. I know the rest of the regimental commanders are in the same boat I am. We are not miracle workers. There is no way that one division can occupy the entire east coast of this country, let alone continue a costly attack.”

  “Yes, Sir , I will send the message, Sir .”

  “I am going out there to see what is happening. Keep those reports coming. I will be back soon.”

  “Yes, Sir .” The aide started transmitting the message after Pavvlek left. He knew it wasn’t going to go over well.

  Lieutenant Lemkin read over the new reports. Each report was getting worse than the one before it, and now regimental commanders were saying that the attack was grinding to a halt. It was time for a change of venue. “Sir, we have captured an assembly hall in one of the small towns. It will make a great headquarters for you. It’s the biggest building around.”