* * * * *
Ambassador Gutierrez wore her poker face well, but it was being tested. Sitting in the stifling tent with the Boxti warlord, she fought back the urge to lash out. Her mother had taught her that violence solved nothing, that any argument could be solved with the appropriate application of diplomacy and hard work. That sentiment had lasted until Maria’s second term as a state Governor, when a Martian splinter group murdered her husband and son in a bus bombing.
Like most career politicians, Maria entered the Colonial Delegation with a sense of wonder. She wanted to make changes for her world, to mold New Eden into the perfect planet. Her optimism faded over time, replaced with the realization that politics, when left to its own devices, became as crooked a system as any other. Ideals could be compromised for the right price, principals were based on party alignment, and no one had the power to change anything on their own. But even with that knowledge, Maria had never given up on her dream.
However, all that was before an alien ship had landed on her front lawn and murdered hundreds of thousands of her citizens. Now, it was all she could do to resist pulling General Casey aside, grabbing his pistol and firing into the crowd of Boxti soldiers. Eruk, the four-armed leader of the invasion party, had allowed his translator to dictate the terms of the human surrender.
For everything they could be called, the Boxti weren’t greedy. They required no lands or money, only bodies. After a short study of the planet, their“Clerics”had decided that the Terrans were barely worth the time it would take to conquer them. Rather than risk more lives in a prolonged conflict, the aliens would simply enslave a portion of the species to work off the“blood debt.”After a period of hundred years, the humans would be allowed to compete for the honor of the Ruall, and be admitted as members of the Horde. If they served loyally for another three centuries, they could even petition for the honor of becoming a Cleric.
Maria had spent most of the day’s negotiations trying to understand the structure of the alien society. It seemed to function like a caste system, all wrapped into a militant theocracy. At the top of the pile, a monarch called the Lord King reigned supreme. Underneath came the Enclave, a group of Boxti known as“Clerics.”There were also Acolytes, and a group called the“Paragons.”They made up the native Boxti, who had then gone on to enslave dozens of other planets. Most members of the Horde—as the slave races were known—were mere cannon-fodder. Some, like the warlord, could be elevated to a more dignified state.
The spindly creature, Shix, attempted to explain all of this in a way Maria could understand, but all it served to do was revolt her more. By the time the sun began to set, a monstrous migraine had developed between her eyes. She didn’t know what role she was supposed to have in these talks; it wasn’t as if she had the authority to surrender the human race over to another civilization. Nor did she intend to let New Eden go so easily. She did the best thing she could: stall.
The warlord had just finished his speech when Maria’s pocket began to buzz. At first, she was content to ignore it; plenty of people were calling her nowadays, trying to learn more about the parlay. But then her aide’s phone rang. And the General’s. And the rest of the entourage. The aliens ignored the sounds, packing up their gear and leaving the tent. The warlord rose to his towering height, leaning close to the Ambassador and wafting his musk over her.
“If that is your leader,”Eruk began in barely passable English.“Then he will decide now.”He crossed his arms and waited. If the look on his face was smug, the humans could not read it.
General Casey had frozen in place. He stared at his phone, white as a ghost.“Ambassador,”he stammered.“I think you need to see this.”
Maria checked her messages. Her hands shook as she read the text on her phone again and again, willing it not to be true. Then, as quickly as the shock had arrived, came anger. She stared at the stoic warlord, her poker face dissolving.
“My leader’s decision will have to wait,”she said sweetly.“I am needed back at the rear. Planetary business. I promise, you will have our answer shortly.”
Eruk growled, angered by the sudden change in atmosphere. He barked at his translator, swatting the poor creature with one beefy hand.
Shix withered away from his commander.“The esteemed warlord demands that you explain yourself. What could be more important than this negotiation?”
“Your people poisoned my world,”Maria said.“There is much to do before I can feel the safety of my citizens is assured. And, until I know that, I cannot in good faith give you an answer.”
Eruk gave a command, a quick hiss. Shix released the Ambassador’s aide, shivering as he broke the connection. His limb snapped out suddenly, wrapping around Maria’s wrist. She screamed, jerking back but unable to break the alien’s grip. The urchin-like creature gurgled pleasantly for a moment, then shouted excitedly at the warlord. Eruk hollered at his soldiers, reaching across the table and grabbing Maria by the throat.
“You dare!”Eruk roared.“Stop this now!”
Maria’s eyes rolled in head, resting on General Casey. Every human in the room had drawn down on the enemy soldiers, shouting curses and orders and anything that popped into their heads. The alien riflemen hissed back, screaming in their own tongues. The General held his phone to his lips, his heart pounding like a jackhammer. The warlord met his gaze, rage building.
“All stations,”Casey said. He swallowed a lump in his throat, and suddenly he was calm. His military career had led him to this moment, this night where he would honor his oath. Maria mouthed the word before he spoke, and he gave her a small nod. He turned his good eye to Eruk, a bitter grin on his face.“Castle. I say again, Cas—”
The bolt hit dead center of the General’s eyepatch, exploding out the back of his head. Casey dropped to the ground in a heap, and the tent erupted. Soldiers on both sides unloaded their weapons on the enemy, screaming in rage and pain and fear. Blood of every color sprayed the walls. Humans and aliens hit the dirt, crying out for help or whimpering softly as lay dying on the ground. The stench of burnt flesh mixed with the cordite and ozone in the air. It lasted seconds, but the Terrans never stood a chance. Maria watched helplessly as the last man fell.
Eruk pulled the Ambassador close to his face, a deep rumble emanating from his chest.“You are weak,”he spat.“You will die. Your people will die. This world will die.”
Tears ran down Maria’s face, but iron rose in her stomach. She set her jaw, forcing down the bile in her throat. Locking eyes with the alien warlord, the Ambassador of New Eden whispered her last words.“Not before you.”
Eruk clamped his hand tight, snapping the woman’s neck like a twig. He laughed, tossing her body aside with little effort. As he turned to leave, he nearly tripped over the trembling form of his navigator/translator. Reaching down, Eruk grabbed the urchin by his stalk-like neck.“Go back to the ship, coward. Let them know that the humans chose death.”
“But warlord,”Shix began.“Can’t you hear?”
Eruk was about to pull off one of the navigator’s spindly legs when the ground shook. He walked toward the tent entrance, stepping over bodies without interest. Outside, dangerously close by, the sounds of a firefight intensified. The Druuma trembled, though Eruk could not tell if it was from fear or excitement. As he wandered into the cool night air, the Cthanul raised his four arms to the sky. The Lord King would regret the loss of the planet, but the warlord would still have his honor.
For the Boxti, this planet would fall.
* * * * *
At 2000 hours, local time, a single word was transmitted to every commander in every unit in the attack force.
“Castle, Castle, Castle.”
In her Seed Bomber, Kaileen repeated the launch order and armed her warheads. Engines ignited and rails hummed as the fighters and warships began to launch into space. The Boxti forces sat quiet and motionless as the Terrans fell upon them like a tidal wave. Capital ships opened a volley of overwhelming fire on the stationary alien ships, sendin
g a cluster of projectiles hurtling at the enemy.
Valley Forge, already in position, extended two cannons from its port and starboard mantles. Huge arms pushed the weapons far out from the body of the cruiser as guidance systems pointed the barrels toward the target. Bright yellow and green lights flashed as Thunder and Lightning charged up, miles of coils spinning a golfball-sized projectile through a spiral accelerator. As the thousands of missiles arced toward the enemy line, Captain DeHart gave the order to fire the orbital strike. The entire vessel rocked from side-to-side as the monstrous PACs lit off. Twin streaks of white shot down toward the surface.
The war began.
- V -
In the Drova Wastes, amidst the might of the Boxti armada, a single ship came to life.
It had been the culmination of the greatest minds ever to exist in the galaxy. During the Unending War, dozens of civilizations had crafted it to be the perfect armament. Technology had reached a point where most weapons of mass destruction could be deterred from their intended targets. Missiles could be jammed, and slugs could be blocked. In a fight against an enemy without fear, they built the most terrible device ever conceived.
It had been thought that the Boxti could be culled with mutually assured destruction. If the end result of their conquests was a galaxy of broken planets, surely they would see the reason and safety of peace. If there were no place they could hide, no world they could secure forever, the alien menace would halt their aggression.
Gehnomwas built as the final act of defiance by the ancient cabal called the Pharsamin, a means to an end that the sentient races feared above all else. If they could not defend their homes, they would render them useless to the enemy. Ion weaponry could burn worlds to ash, but time would heal such wounds. Traditional warfare could pulverize a planet into powder, but the land would grow again. There was only one method of attack that had no equalizer, and that meant destroying the planet’s core. Once broken, the gravitational forces would simply tear the rock to pieces. There would be nothing left to inhabit.
It was hoped that such a drastic weapon would never be used. That the simple fact of its existence would be enough to dissuade the invading forces. After the loss of nine homeworlds, even that hope fell away. The Pharsamin realized that there could be no peace, no matter how hollow the victory would be for the Boxti. In fleeing for their lives, the races of the past left a monster behind for the dark creatures to find.
Aboard the juggernaut Gehnom, a single voice rose as hundreds of thousands of creatures brought the terrible ship to life.“The Humans ask for death. And we shall grant it.”
Without a sound, the bringer of doom opened a wormhole and jumped toward the Terran colony.
- VI -
Captain Grahams stood in his hatch, looking through a pair of binoculars at the Boxti carrier. His gunner sighted the walls of the structure, the blockades hastily set up by the enemy soldiers, and activated the laser tracker. Graham’s Crew Vehicle Helmet blocked out the whining engine as best it could, sealing him off from the outside world. Still, it did next to nothing to shield him from the scream of the PAC rounds.
Like twin fists from heaven, the enormous slugs tore down from space and slammed into the roof of the alien ship. The rounds bore deep into the metal, melting it down into slag before driving further and further into the ship. The strike from Thunder hit in the crew quarters, crushing several rooms before stopping. Lighting hit the ammunition compartment near the ground, igniting the stores of missiles. The port side of the vessel swelled outward and exploded, sending chunks of debris raining down on the fields below for miles and miles.
The peace shattered, the offensive force opened fire. Captain Grahams watched his company of tanks release a salvo of Sabot rounds into the structure. Each projectile was inert, but tore through the defensives like tissue paper. Walls crumbled and fell and bodies flew in all directions. Behind the main line, Multiple Launch Rocket Stations (MLRS) released a shower of high-explosive warheads down on the enemy front. Thor mobile cannons dropped a never-ending downpour of high explosives. Blossoms of flame rose like a garden of death. Smoke and the acrid smell of spent chemicals filled the air.
“All stations, this is Guardian.”General Casey’s voice came through the command net, broadcast in every vehicle.“Assault the enemy line. Commanders, carry out your missions.”
Grahams pulled his hatch until it locked a foot above his head. He leaned forward and patted his gunner on the shoulder. The young sergeant sat in front of the Captain, face pressed into the sight.“Cavemen, this is Black Six. Assault, assault, assault.”His driver moved out without hesitation. The Shiva rolled forward quickly, clearing ground between the friendly line and the carrier. As targets presented, each platoon struck out. The Boxti had no armor presented, but nothing cleared the field of battle like a Shiva. Gunners took out targets as quickly as they popped up, mowing down ground troops with the slaved .50 caliber machine guns.
“Black Six, this is Shadow one-one. We have eyes on four...make that five heavy vehicles moving out from the main entrance. Looks like armor.”
Grahams chewed on his lip.“Roger, Shadow one-one. Maintain eyes on and report.”He squelched the radio once.“Caveman units, we have incoming armor. Engage and report. Out.”He wasn’t worried. There had yet to be an enemy the Company couldn’t handle.
Ahead of the headquarters section, first platoon came within visual range of the Boxti tanks. They were slow but heavily fortified, resembling bulbous scorpions. The turret was squat and flat, with a single angular cannon protruding a meter from the center. Two spires shot out either side of the barrel. The crew remained buttoned up inside, away from sniper fire. As the enemy tanks rumbled forward, the blood red metal shimmered in the sunlight.
At his perch on a nearby hill, Zev watched the enemy roll out. His scoped GK rifle bobbed back and forth as he traced the outline of the hull, looking for any signs of life. He saw the plumes of fire and smoke from the tank line before the booming response, and counted the seconds until the rounds hit. The first volley fell in front of the advancing line, spraying dirt and rocks in all directions.
“Red two, this is Shadow. Short. Add one half and re-engage.”
The next Sabot hit the Boxti tank near the front, impacting with a satisfying shower of smoke and metal. Still, the enemy vehicle drove on. The turret charged with glowing red energy before hurling a bolt at the nearest Shiva. A crimson ball of tumbling plasma tore through the plated armor, driving past the crew compartment and into the ammo storage. Red two exploded into pieces.
Two more friendly tanks pushed forward, firing at the offending enemy. Their rounds had more luck, blowing the top clean off the heavy armor. A secondary explosion littered the ground with chunks of black and red debris. But more and more Boxti poured from the carrier, flowing out like a river. Infantry forces rode out on hovering square platforms, firing automatic cannons and rockets. Several smaller, faster vehicles charged the hill where the scouts had set up camp.
Lieutenant Gabriel saw the movement and rolled onto his back.“Shadow, clear the hill. We’re made.”Zev grabbed his gear and bolted, racing back toward the trucks. Enemy rounds ripped into the earth behind him, leaving smoldering craters. The pressure from their impact drove him to his knees, but he popped up quickly and resumed his retreat. He dove inside the vehicle, a young private gunning to engine before Zev’s weight had settled on the seat. The hill fell behind them as the truck raced back toward friendly lines.
“A little close, sergeant?”Gabriel smiled, taking a swig from his canteen. Overhead, bombers raced toward their targets, dropping salvo after salvo of ground pounding warheads. The vehicle bounced each time an explosion shook the landscape. The LT shouted to the driver.“Head to position three. We need to get eyes on the back entrance.”He pulled a tablet from beneath the seat, watching the satellite feed.
Zev checked his rifle, picking at a clump of dirt with his fingernail.“Jesus, how many do you think are still insid
e?”
The lieutenant didn’t answer at first, just stared out at the burnt skeleton of a forest as the truck raced on. Tree trunks rose from the earth like black spires. Only months before, this had been a lush woodland area, a hotspot for hikers and families. Now, after the army have burned the spores from the land, it was so much ash and kindling.“Doesn’t matter how many they brought. None of them go home.”
Thunder crashed. Zev looked up, surprised he hadn’t noticed the dark pillars of storm clouds approach the battlefield. It was just as well, he thought. Maybe it would help wash away the blood.
- VII -
February 24, 2237
The modified Valkyrie bucked and tumbled through the thick turbulence. With each gust of wind, the engines whined in protest and fought to stabilize the descending craft. Rain buffeted the ship from every angle, defying gravity as it rose on strong currents and slammed into the under armor. This was less a ride into battle and more like being in a washing machine.
Standing at the center of the passenger area, holding a troop strap for dear life, Josh looked at his assembled squad. The orders to move had come in the middle of the night, as they tried in vain to sleep off the shocking news from the days before. Markov knew there would be resistance to his decision, but the opportunity was too much to resist. After only a few days of fighting, it was painfully obvious that the Terran ground forces were outmatched. With Sasha’s urging, the doctor had agreed to send in the Archangels.
The stress and anxiety hit everyone differently. Fares and Cho, normally unflappable, had spent the last few days snapping at each other like angry dogs. Dax and Liane barely spoke, each thinking about their loved ones lost on Tallus. Alexa seemed to handle it the best, though she had started swearing more often than usual. Josh was torn. A part of him had been clamoring to fight every since he’d gotten back to the barracks on Kronos and found a new universe waiting. Another part of him realized that between him and his six friends were thousands of alien foot soldiers. If the reports from the front could be believed, the mixed species of the Boxti troops were a match for even Team Hercules.
When the Stars Fade (The Gray Wars) Page 45
