The Tactics of Revenge

by T. R. Harris

  His ships dropped to the surface under gravity drives and landed to the north of the Juirean compound in a large field next to a towering parabolic dish covered with scaffolding. This would be the main communications dish for the Sector, the one Adam Cain and his Raiders had toppled a few months earlier. The Juireans were in the process of repairing the damage and had erected a tall, temporary communications tower next to the large dish in the interim. Taggert smiled. Looks like they’ll never get it fixed, not if I have anything to do about it.

  Gravity landings tend to be very destruction affairs, with the wells drawing up dirt, trees, structures – and even people who happen to get in the way – to the focal point several kilometers above the surface. Twenty-five ships landing all at once sent such a cloud of dust and debris over the entire administration compound as to form a very effective smokescreen for the landing. Through long range binoculars, Taggert and his men could barely see the thousands of defenders covering their faces and running for cover from the onslaught of the dust cloud. By the time it cleared, the Marines were down and already offloading their assault vehicles.

  Taggert’s men had prepared for an AWL – Alien World Landing – utilizing Mars as a training ground, so they were ready for the sudden feeling of vertigo when their ship’s gravity was replaced by that of Melfora Lum. This planet’s surface gravity was about two-thirds that of Earth’s, so a solid two-hundred pound Marine now weighed one-hundred thirty-two. Even Taggert’s wiry one-hundred sixty-two pound build was suddenly down to one-oh-seven. And without the bulky spacesuits they had to wear during the maneuvers on Mars, General Taggert felt as if he could take on Zeus himself – and win.

  Within minutes, Taggert’s Marines had offloaded twenty M113 Armored Personnel Carriers and ten M2 Bradley Fighting Vehicles. Each of the M113’s was equipped with an M2 Browning machine gun and the Bradley’s carried 25-mm M243 chain guns, as well 7.62mm M240C machine guns. Both vehicles had also been fitted with K-92 Klin flash rifles, even though the Marines seldom used them, even in training. Instead, they preferred the sound, reliability and sheer penetrating power of the Browning’s over the pussy-poof – as they called it – of the bolt launchers. Some even called the flash rifles queefers.

  Taggert joined his men, riding in a command Humvee driven by a staff sergeant. As the vehicles bounced across the rocky field, made even rougher by the gravity landings of the ships, Taggert had very little time to take in the significance of this moment. He was on an alien world, and unlike Mars, breathing alien air and about to engage in a battle with flesh-and-blood beings other than Human. Taggert had never met any of the rare Klin while on Earth, nor had he during the journey here, so this would be his first face-to-face encounter with aliens.

  Like the old saying went: Join the Service, travel to exotic lands, meet new people – and kill them! No truer words could be spoken on a day like this.

  And even though Taggert’s perspective on aliens and their societies had been altered somewhat, at least in this war, he wasn’t fighting against any of his own kind.

  The dust from the landing had drifted away in a strong breeze, so as Taggert and his forces drew closer to the massive Juirean headquarters building he could clearly make out a line of defenders in trenches and behind dirt berms about two hundred meters this side of the building. Through the binoculars, Taggert could vaguely make out tall, slender beings with angular heads and narrow eyes. They were all dressed in what appeared to be body armor, and many held rifle-like weapons which Taggert knew to be bolt launchers, weapons with an effective range of about a hundred meters. That was another thing about the flash rifles – their limited range. By utilizing concentrated balls of electricity as ammunition, it was nearly impossible for the balls to maintain intensity and integrity over long distances, especially within an atmosphere. Taggert and his Marines would soon open up with their own deadly projectile weapons, long before the aliens could counter with bolts from their rifles.

  As if on queue, the M2’s began to blast away with the 25-mils. Most of the initial rounds, however, overshot the line of defenders, with some even impacting the building itself. The computers onboard the vehicles were attuned to Earth’s gravity, rotation and atmospheric density; in the lighter gravity of Melfora Lum, the programmed trajectories were too steep and the projectiles traveled too far. But moments later, the professional gunners had made their adjustments. The next barrage sent a rain of fire and destruction into the ranks of the alien defenders, sending prodigious amounts of dirt and body parts flying into the thin air, and it wasn’t long before the aliens abandoned their static defense lines and retreated toward the building.

  In minutes, the main battle was fully engaged. Marines flowed from the rear of the Bradley’s and the M113’s, spitting fire from the barrels of their M4’s, M16’s and BAR’s. Taggert watched from the rear of the action as hundreds of aliens were blasted to bits by the force of the rounds. Even as their comrades died, many of the aliens fired in panicked desperation with the flash rifles, sending bolts of fire into the ranks of his Marines. Some were hit; he was taking casualties, but nothing like the aliens were suffering.

  And then they were at the building. It was pyramidal in shape, with the main entrance surrounded by a large courtyard of walkways, manicured lawns, statures and fountains. But now the impressive courtyard was overrun with panicked aliens, some seeking cover in whatever manner could be found, while hundreds of others ran though the half-dozen double doorways and into the building itself, turning occasionally to let loose a few shots from their flash rifles.

  But still the Marines advanced.

  Off to his right, Taggert heard a massive explosion; he turned in time to see the huge communication dish begin to topple over, a target of his secondary force. There had been a line of defenders there, too, but they had been quickly overrun by the Marines. The ground trembled deeply as the dish crashed to the surface in an explosion of dust and sound.

  Taggert’s Marines were firing RPG’s through the entrances to the building now, eliminating the last traces of resistance near the doorways. Most of the sensible aliens had been absorbed deeper into the structure, looking to hide rather than fight. Even though the bulk of the fighting was over, Taggert knew they had to be careful as they cleared the building. This was where they would take the bulk of their casualties.

  Taggert’s orders were to secure the building and allow for the intel pros to scour the Juirean records for anything useful. He dismounted the Humvee – and pulling his trusty .45 from the holster on his hip – followed a shield unit into the building.

  As he waded through the mass of alien dead, Taggert found it curious that they all appeared to be Melforeans; he had not seen a single Juirean among any of defenders. If intel was right, then there should have been several thousand of the green-hair Guards to greet his forces, yet there were none to be found.

  The bottom floor of the admin building was a single large open area, easily covering a hundred square meters, with the ceiling soaring four stories high. There were numerous kiosks scattered throughout the lobby area – all deserted now except for the bodies of the dead aliens, along with dozens of live Marines as they moved cautiously about, looking for any trace of resistance.

  Lieutenant Jerome Corse came up to Taggert. He didn’t salute; you never did that in a combat zone. “The lower level appears to be clear, sir. Most of the aliens have exited out the other side and run for the hills. I’m beginning a sweep of the upper floors now. Echo Company is setting up a parameter outside the building in case there’s a counterattack.” The young black man glanced around the room and smiled. “I don’t see that happening, though. These things don’t seem to have much fight in them.”

  “Casualties?” Taggert asked.

  “Twelve dead, as best we can determine at this time, with about twenty wounded.”

  “Be sure to collect the bodies, LT,” Taggert said. “We want to make sure they make it back to Earth for burial. We don’t want to leave an
y of them on some alien planet where no one can honor them.”

  “Yes, sir, not goin’ to let that happen.”

  Taggert took out a Klin communicator, a device that looked like a large cellphone. He fingered the controls. “Taggert to Command, come in, over.”

  Immediately, Admiral Levin was on the link. He had been watching the events unfold on the surface through the video cameras mounted on the helmets of the Marines. “Looks like less resistance than anticipated, Owen.”

  “For now, Admiral, but I haven’t seen any Juireans. Either they’ve all split or they’re waiting to hit us when we let our guard down. We’ll move further out into the city once the building’s secure.”

  “Roger that. Just be careful. We don’t know what the Juireans are capable of. This is all virgin ground for us.”

  “Understood. I’ll send a few of the saucers up to provide air cover for us as we—”

  Chapter 17

  Levin winced as a deafening screech sounded through the speakers. Others on the command bridge did the same. Admiral Nate Allen moved up beside him. “What was that?” he asked, more to the communications officer rather than to Levin.

  “Communications are offline—”

  “Sir! We’re picking up a massive explosion on the surface.” Levin and Allen ran to the radar station. The E-5 manning the screen looked nervous.

  “Confirmed, Admiral,” said Lieutenant Morris from his console next to the second-class. “A mushroom cloud is rising above the city.” He looked up at the two senior officers, his mouth hanging slack. “It looks like they’ve set off a nuke, right there in the middle of the city. It’s huge, probably over a hundred megatons. That’s bigger than anything we have.”

  Nate Allen suddenly felt his knees go weak as he struggled to breathe. The fucking Juireans blew up the entire city – along with Owen and his men!

  Nate looked over at Levin, whose eyes were glassy, his bottom lip trembling. “I guess we know what we’re up against, now,” Levin managed to say. “Four hundred Marines – just like that.”

  Allen placed a hand on Levin’s shoulder. “Let’s make sure these scurvy bastards pay for this, Admiral. Let’s send every last one of them straight to Hell!”

  Chapter 18

  Along the eastern perimeter of the shipyards ran a tall wire fence and through it Adam could see the dense, verdant boundary of the jungle beyond. There were numerous metal crates stacked high against the fence, and he and Sherri were able to easily scamper to the top of one of them. Poul, on the other hand, was not much of a climber. Adam leaned over the edge and offered the Hyben the end of his flash rifle. The large shrimp eyed the barrel of the weapon with trepidation before finally grabbing hold. Adam easily lifted him to the top of the crate.

  Adam jumped to the ground on the other side of the fence and then called for Poul to follow suit; Adam would catch him. Sherri patted Poul’s back, “It’s okay, you can trust him.”

  Once all three of them were over the fence, Adam led them to the tree line. As part of the normal maintenance of the yards, large mowers maintained a hundred meter buffer zone between the jungle and the fence, but with the cutbacks on personnel, the grooming had not taken place in a month or two. Now large gnarly vines snaked out of the dense forest, sending off shoots of smaller appendages which burrowed into the ground forming strong footholds in mother-nature’s relentless attempt to reclaim what was rightfully hers. Unless something was done soon, within a year the jungle would be creeping over and through the fence; in ten years the shipyard would be nothing but a ghost town of decaying and overrun buildings.

  The three fugitives entered the sea of vegetation and immediately felt the temperature climb by five to ten degrees. All around them was a cacophony of buzzing and clicking sounds, which failed to cease as they moved through the jungle. Adam pulled out his blade, extending it out to its full length and began to hack his way deeper into the overgrowth. He had no fear; much of his training had been in environments such as this, yet Sherri and Poul were having difficulty keeping up.

  “Where are we going?” Sherri called out from behind Poul. “It seems to be getting thicker.”

  “Can’t you hear that?” Adam replied. And when Sherri tried very hard she could hear the sound of running water.

  “A river?”

  “That’s Jullin Creek; it runs through the jungle and empties into Luy Lake, about twenty kilometers from here,” Poul explained.

  “So your plan is to escape down the river?” Sherri asked Adam.

  Suddenly Adam burst through the thick barrier of man-size fronds to find himself balancing precariously on the bank of a muddy river, about twenty meters above the water. Bending his body like one of those wacky air displays at a car dealership, he eventually regained his balance and stabilized. He turned back to smile at Sherri, who was just now emerging from the jungle. Suddenly, the brittle muddy bank gave way and fell out from under his footing. Adam slid down the muddy bank and splashed into the water. Sinking under the surface, he felt a strong current begin to pull him down river. Adam was a strong swimmer, so with a few kicks of his legs, he broke through the surface and swam for the shore, beaching himself about twenty yards down from where he’d entered the river. Poul and Sherri were busily making their way along the bank above him, a concerned look plastered across Sherri’s face.

  “Are you all right?” she called out to him.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said as he stood in about a meter of water.

  “The vipers move within the river,” Poul offered. “I wouldn’t linger if I were you.”

  Adam looked up and down the bank until he saw where the river and the bank matched the same level. He began to move downriver, staying a few meters in the water as he did so. “I need the two of you to move back into the jungle a few feet. I’ll meet you in the jungle over there,” he said, pointing to the point in the river where he would make his exit.

  “What do you have in mind?” Sherri asked, as she and Poul moved back into the thick vegetation.

  “I want anyone who’s following us to think we entered the river and have either crossed over or headed downstream. We’re going to double back through the jungle and take up a spot upriver, near the shipyards.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” Sherri said, “but it’s going to be tough getting through the jungle without leaving a trail.”

  “We’ll manage,” Adam said as he joined the other two within the canopy of vines and oversized leaves. “Besides, in a day most of the trail will be covered over with new growth.”

  Adam led the way through the jungle, this time going slower and using his hands and arms to gently push away the barriers they encountered. In a few minutes they came upon the path Adam had cut through the jungle with his blade, a wide and obvious scare through the jungle. They jumped over the path, each being careful not to leave any signs of their passing, and soon they were once again trudging upriver.

  They stopped about twenty minutes later when they heard noises coming from behind them. Adam moved to the edge of the jungle where it met the river. The waterway curved slightly away at this point and Adam could see pretty far down the river. There, at the point where his original path met the water, were a gaggle of Hyben security forces, their flashlights dancing helter-skelter across the scene. They were shouting and pointing across the river, and in a few moments, turned away from Adam’s location and began to follow the bank downstream.

  Adam smiled as Sherri patted him on the back. “Good plan, Stan,” she said, matching his smile. Then she leaned over and kissed his cheek. She quickly feigned spitting motions to rid her lips of the sweat and grim from his face, but still her eyes smiled at him.

  “Let’s get going,” he said. “Another twenty minutes or so and then we’ll head back toward the yards. It’ll be daybreak soon; we need to set up camp and try to find something to eat.”

  Adam saw the grimace cross Sherri’s face. She still had the taste and smell of the Hyben baths in her memory
. “I hope there’s something on this fucking planet worth eating.” Then she looked back at Poul, who was standing a few meters behind her, still in the cover of the jungle. “Maybe something like a giant shrimp cocktail?”

  Adam looked at Poul as well and raised an eyebrow. “Definitely an option. Just wish we had a little sauce to spice it up a little.”

  Poul just stared at them, confused by the Human’s sudden attention directed his way. He was relieved when they moved past him, with Adam placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

  An hour later, they once again were at the edge of the buffer zone surrounding the shipyards. They were a couple of kilometers west of the point where they’d first entered the jungle, and the area beyond the fence here was dotted with derelict spacecraft that had been relegated to the furthest hinterlands of the yards.

  About fifty meters back into the jungle, Adam and Sherri began to clear a campsite with their blades. Once the vegetation had been cut, they proceeded to cover the muddy ground with large palm frowns to shield them from the guck. Finally, they all sat down in a circle, each enjoying the first rest they’d had in several hours. Poul managed to curl himself into a large ball, with just his pointy head and black, beady eyes staring out at them. Adam couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not.

  Sherri fell back herself, resting her head on a small vine. She had mud on her face, stubbornly securing itself to her skin even through the sheen of sweat that dripped from her pours. Adam’s stomach began to growl, loud enough so she could hear it.

  “You know it’s going to be a crapshoot with the food we find,” she said. “Without a dietary scanner we could be eating poison and not even know it until it’s too late.”

  “I know,” Adam agreed. “The safest thing to do would be to find some meat and cook it, but we don’t want to attract anyone with either the fire or the smell. Let’s get a little rest now, and then I’ll head out to try to find us something near daybreak. So far I haven’t seen anything much bigger than a worm. But there has to be something out here worth eating.”