“Come on then, sir, upsy-daisy!” the sergeant said as strong arms helped Billy onto his feet.
“Looks like we’ve get them beat, sir,” the NCO said.
For a moment, Billy felt light-headed, and wanted to vomit.
“Take a couple of deep breaths and you’ll be fine, sir, and let me have a quick look at that arm?” the Bandsman asked.
“No! Thank you private,” Billy said, gulping down some fresh air. “It’s just a scratch...there are injured men that need your attention more than I do.”
“Very good, sir,” the Bandsman replied and dashed off to find injured men in the battle line.
“You gonna be all right, sir?” the sergeant asked.
“Yes, I’m fine, sergeant. Now carry on with your duties.” Billy continued to catch his breath and wishing that the sergeant would go away.
“Sir.” The sergeant saluted and dashed off to find his men.
Looking around him for the first time, Billy could see that the sergeant was indeed correct in his evaluation of the military situation.
The north wall was still holding, as were the upper parts of the east and west walls. A few fugitives were being hunted down behind the wall as the redcoats and Natal Infantrymen resumed the battle over the one-metre barricade. The scrimmage for the south wall was still in full swing. Bayonets and spears were tearing into the dwindling Zulu numbers, whilst at the same time, redcoats and Natal Infantrymen were stumbling free from the press of bodies with their injuries. The riflemen not engaged at the front of the battle had resumed shooting down any Zulus who were trying to clamber onto the barricade.
At the breach in the south wall, Billy could see a huge “V” of cleared ground, strewn with dead and injured, that drove through the heart of the Zulu “blister” around the gap. Major Pulleine and the Bayonet Group were hacking, slashing, stabbing, and clubbing their way through anyone that got in their way. Already, he could see Zulus shrinking and cowering away from the savage ferocity of the attack. Rifle butts, bullets, and blades were dividing the Zulu formation next to the breach, whilst riflemen and Natal Infantry supported the Bayonet Group spearhead. Some Zulus were trying to re-cross the wall to escape the savage onslaught, but sharp-eyed riflemen quickly spotted them and shot them down.
On either side of the “V”, the front line of riflemen and Natal Infantry was gradually pushing the Zulus back. The front line was actually three deep in Natal Infantrymen and redcoats who were hacking, slashing, stabbing, and shooting at the mass of Zulus they had pinned against the south wall. However, the Zulu toe-hold on the British side of the barricade was dwindling with every passing second. And, as the Zulu position shrunk, the trampling feet of the riflemen and Natal Infantry passed over the carnage and horror of the hand-to-hand fighting.
The bodies of the dead and injured lay like a carpet on the ground behind the front line as the riflemen and Natal Infantrymen drove forward. Some writhed and shrieked from the wounds to their riven bellies, whilst others moaned in their pain, and many more simply lay still. A few figures were trying to crawl away from the hideous carpet of bodies. The redcoats and Natal Infantry found help from the British bandsmen, whilst the Zulus found that a bayonet or a bullet would end their suffering.
The air rang with the clash of metal, the bang of shots, and the screams and shouts of battle. Still, the fight raged on. Turning to the west wall, Billy could see that it was almost entirely reclaimed by the British forces. At one point, Billy saw a huge dark-haired redcoat corporal lift a dead Zulu from the ground and throw the corpse bodily at three warriors who were attempting to climb back onto the barricade. The three intruders were swept away by the dead flesh and the corporal’s strength. Meanwhile, the corporal’s comrades and the Natal Infantrymen were jabbing, stabbing, and shooting at the Zulus who clung on to the other side of the barricade.
Suddenly, from the south wall, there erupted a great cheer. Turning swiftly, Billy could see that Pulleine and the survivors of the Bayonet Group had reached the breach. They had divided the Zulu contingent and had cut them off from reinforcement. Redcoats were piling forward and forming up at the breach with spear-carrying Natal Infantrymen. And, within seconds, the first ragged volley was reaching out to the Zulus beyond the south wall.
The Natal Infantrymen at the breach were jabbing and stabbing at the Zulus, who were struggling to clamber onto the barricade on either side of the breach.
And, it was these ragged volleys and jabbing spears that finally convinced the Zulus on the south wall that the battle was over.
Finding themselves attacked from their flanks, the Zulus around the breach started to turn and run. And, when one group began to run, it was like the entire Zulu attack peeled away from the front of the barricade.
Seeing the warriors on their flanks running convinced others that this was not the time or place to die needlessly whilst others saved themselves. Within seconds, the entire Zulu contingent facing the south wall was disintegrating as the warriors began to run. Within fifteen seconds, the entire south wall, outside the British position, was clear of Zulus. The eastern and western walls were also starting to see the Zulus disengage and flee back to the river, or back to the dongas. With jeers and rifle shots following them, the Zulus who had come so close to breaking into the position and overwhelming it were now retreating in disarray. To Billy’s amazement and relief, the Zulus on the eastern and western walls were peeling off. A few die-hard Zulus tried to carry on the fight, but were soon silenced by blades and bullets. With the eastern and western attacks folding up, the Zulus at the north wall soon found themselves without the traditional support on their flanks. Then, they too began to run.
It’s over, Billy thought as he held on to his injured left arm.
The riflemen and Natal Infantrymen on the north wall began to cheer and celebrate, but there was still the problem of several hundred Zulus trapped down by the south wall. It was a problem that solved itself very quickly. Having seen their comrades on the other side of the wall flee, the warriors trapped within the British position either tried to climb back over the barricade, or they began to throw their weapons down. In the brutal hand-to-hand, it took the British several minutes to realise that the enemy were capitulating, and dozens of surrendering warriors were cut down in the confusion. The officers, realising what was happening, called their men back and allowed the Zulus to throw down their shields, spears and clubs.
Once again, the British position rang to the sounds of cheers and celebrations, as the defeated and captured Zulus sat down, dejectedly, and covered their heads with their hands and arms.
In the deepest shame.
Chapter 2: The Imperial Palace, Ganthus City
Frontier General Avavid Kallet simply could not believe his eyes.
For the first time in almost three thousand years, it had rained in Ganthus City during the months of the hottest season, and the timing could not have been worse. No sooner had the red-haired alien successfully completed the Time Warrior ritual than the heavens above Ganthus City had opened up in a torrential deluge. A great number of highly superstitious Ganthorans would read the omen as supporting the Caudwell creature. And, Frontier General Kallet was blazing with anger. There was no way he could ever take any credit for this miracle. He could broadcast that his scientists had discovered some new technique for making it rain, but the moisture-bearing storm clouds had been gathering over Ganthus City for almost two days. That was a full two days before Kallet’s ships had appeared in orbit.
In the major city of a planet which imported almost all of its water from the worlds that made up the Empire, the appearance of rain at this particular time would totally undermine Kallet’s claim to be working for the benefit of the people. Confident in the knowledge that the alien would fail in the Time Warrior ritual, Kallet had allowed the broadcast media to show what he believed would be Caudwell’s failure and death. Kallet had to admit that the alien was good. He had humbled Grobbeg and now he had completed the challenge o
f the Time Warrior ritual against the odds and the best efforts of Kallet’s saboteurs.
Kallet’s ships had chased away the single Alliance warship that had been in orbit around Ganthus. Then, he had overwhelmed the token formation of Imperial Guard ships and had occupied Ganthus City. A state of martial law had been declared in the Capital to stop civilians impeding Kallet’s military activities as opposed to saving lives. The remaining Imperial Guards had been forced to surrender and had been confined to their barracks. However, twenty thousand Imperial Guards still presented Kallet with a major headache. The Imperial Guards still had to be watched, which drew large numbers of his own troops away from other activities. Frontier Generals Timmeg, Sal’nor, and Kav’al had pledged to support the shadowy Emperor and were bringing their fleets to Ganthus to support Kallet. Grobbeg may have lost to this Caudwell in battle with one fleet, but with four fleets, Kallet could sweep this impertinent Universal Alliance away from the Ganthoran Empire.
As he mulled over the problem of the Imperial Guards, Frontier General Avavid Kallet once again took out his frustrations upon the furniture of the Adjudication Room in the Imperial Palace. And, just as quickly as his rage had appeared, it disappeared. Avavid Kallet had been in the process of throwing one of the heavy Adjudicator Chairs at the Table, when he suddenly had an idea. Setting the heavy chair down with considerable ease, Kallet strode purposefully, without a word, to the window. The rain seethed from the heavens above Ganthus and ran down the now-spotlessly clean floor to ceiling window. Outside, in the narrow streets below, Kallet could see that the people of Ganthus City had ignored his martial law order, and were celebrating in the pouring rain.
He would deal with that kind of disobedience later, he considered, but first he had the most delicious idea for solving his conundrum of the Imperial Guard. Turning from the window, without a word, Avavid Kallet strode over to the Tele-Portal and stepped through the opaque barrier and into the transport beam.
An instant later, he emerged to the consternation of the two sentries that had been placed on the Tele-Portal door at the Barracks for the Imperial Guard Officers.
The two sentries snapped to a ragged attention for the Frontier General, who barely registered their existence, as he stalked off towards the Administrative Centre of the Barracks. The two sentries stared at each other, their faces frozen in terror and alarm, and were just about to report the arrival of the General, when his Senior Officers followed through the Tele-Portal and began to hurry after their massively unpredictable commander. Snapping to attention once again, the two sentries were never acknowledged by the scampering Senior Officers.
Stalking through the deserted barracks, Kallet appeared to know his way around this particular place. Unknown to his Senior Officers, this was where the young Avavid Kallet had been rejected by the Imperial Guard, and the delicious irony of what he was about to do made the Frontier General smile wolfishly. Turning down the winding corridors, where the dark-grey diamond-shaped doors stayed regimentally closed, it took less than three minutes for Avavid Kallet to find the Administrative Centre. And, like the storms that were lashing across Ganthus City above them, Frontier General Avavid Kallet swept into the main Control Room of the Administrative Centre. The two sentries flanking the inside of the door snapped to attention and presented arms. The other Frontier Fleet soldiers also snapped to attention, many remaining seated at the Control Consoles that were their current Posts.
For the main nerve-centre of a facility that housed over thirty thousand people, the Control Room was surprisingly small and compact. It required a Duty Shift of only twelve people to function effectively and to monitor and control all of the vital systems of the Barracks. However, guarding and patrolling the Barracks perimeter needed at least three thousand soldiers. There were eight Control Consoles set around the four starkly-grey walls of the Control Room. Two non-commissioned technical officers monitored and supervised the activities of the Console Operators, whilst one Junior Officer reported to the more senior Duty Officer who sat at a desk facing the door.
As with the rest of his Duty Shift, the Duty Officer had sprung to his feet when General Kallet had burst into the Control Room. With his heart hammering in his chest, and fearing that something unpleasant was likely to happen, the Duty Officer spoke.
“Welcome, sir, how can we be of service?” He stood ramrod straight, realizing that he spoke in a more nervous voice than he had expected.
“What’s your name?” Kallet smiled wickedly, his face a much darker green than normal, owing to the excitement and exertion of reaching the Control Room.
“Major Kadrimus, at your service, sir.”
“Excellent, Major. Are the Imperial Guards secure?”
“Yes, sir - of course, sir, standard procedure in military close arrest, Officers confined to quarters, other ranks to barrack blocks....”
“Excellent, show me!”
“Yes, sir! Feed all Vide-Links into the main Monitor Array!”
“Yes, sir,” a young officer replied nervously and almost tripped over his own feet.
“Come on, hurry up!” the excited and agitated General Kallet barked.
“Yes, sir, sorry sir,” the Duty Officer said.
The Monitor Array consisted of twenty holographically-generated Vide-Monitors stepped up in a block of five by four.
Each monitor was forty centimetres by twenty centimetres and formed a holographic checker-board of images for the Duty Officer to observe. And, in short order, the images on the monitors cleared from the blank white of no-signal to some form of activity.
Like a greedy child scanning the shelves of a well-stocked sweet shop, Frontier General Avavid Kallet devoured the images with his eyes. From the images presented to him, Kallet could see officers secured in their personal quarters and groups of other ranks, whiling away their now-enforced leisure time in their forty-person Barracks blocks. Some of the Imperial Guards were asleep, whilst many others played games of chance. Some of the Imperial Guards were exercising, trying to keep themselves both mentally and physically fit. Meanwhile, many others, mainly the officers, prowled agitatedly around their quarters like caged animals seeking some escape.
“When was the Fire-Suppressant system last tested?” Kallet asked.
Checking his Control Console, the Duty Officer quickly gleaned the information from the Systems database.
“The Fire-Suppressant System was last checked seventeen days ago, sir.”
“And, was the suppressant discharged, or was it an Activation Systems check?” Kallet asked.
“Erm, it was an Activations Systems check, sir, the last Discharge test was conducted over a year ago, sir.”
“Oh my, it does look like our Imperial Guard colleagues don’t take their fire safety protocols very seriously, doesn’t it, Major Kadrimus?” Kallet smiled malevolently.
“No, sir,” the confused Duty Officer said.
“Then, we’d best make sure that the Discharge System is working properly throughout the facility, hadn’t we, Major?”
“But, sir, we’ll kill all…”
The Fire Suppressant System discharged a highly poisonous gas called Haggrion into the confines of the areas affected by any fire. The effect of Haggrion was to starve the fire of any propellant gases such as oxygen. The effect on any living, breathing life-forms unfortunate enough to be caught in the discharge was a relatively swift but painful death by suffocation.
“What, Major? We’ll kill all the Guards. No, Major, we’re eliminating traitors to our new Emperor.” General Kallet eyed the Duty Officer with hostility.
The Senior Officers that had followed Kallet into the Control Room fell deathly silent and stared at each other in horror.
“Activate the Discharge System, Major,” Kallet ordered.
“But, sir, it’s cold blooded murder…”
“I gave you an order, now carry it out!”
“But, sir, please-”
With the speed of a striking cobra, Frontier General
Avavid Kallet drew his side-arm from the holster at his right hip and fired two laser bolts into the pleading and protesting Duty Officer. The two laser bolts struck him squarely on the chest, throwing him backwards onto the ground, where he shuddered jerkily for a few moments, and then lay still.
“When I give an order, I expect it to be obeyed!” Kallet bellowed angrily.
The oppressive silence in the Control Room was shattered by the humming of the massive power generators of the facility, as the Frontier soldiers stared at the lifeless body of the Duty Officer.
“I will not be disobeyed!!” Kallet shrieked like a petulant schoolboy, waving the laser pistol in his right hand. “Do you understand me!?”
The mumbled responses and silence from the terrified Frontier troops only served to enrage Frontier General Avavid Kallet even further.
“I said, do you understand me!?” he screamed.
His face was the darkest green that any of his Senior Officers had ever seen him.
“YES, SIR!!” The subordinates in the Control Room bellowed at the top of their voices in response to their commander, who had clearly lost all reasoning.
“You!” Kallet pointed the pistol at a young Junior Officer. “What’s your name?”
“Junior Lieutenant Arranus, Gleythar Arranus…sir.”
“Are you going to disobey me, Junior Lieutenant Gleythar Arranus?”
“No, sir....”
“Then activate the Discharge System, please.”
With his eyes still fixated on the pistol in General Kallet’s hand, the young Junior Lieutenant stumbled nervously over to the Control Console behind the Duty Officers desk. Gasping to control a sob, the Junior Lieutenant looked across at the lifeless body of Major Kadrimus that stared open-eyed at the ceiling of the Control Room, and began to initiate the Fire Suppressant Discharge System.
“Ready, sir.”
“Proceed.”
Breathing heavily, whilst unable to hold back the tears any longer, Junior Lieutenant Gleythar Arranus pushed the small black button on the Control Console that activated the Discharge System and allowed the Haggrion gas to escape from the reservoirs concealed in the ceilings and floors of the Barracks facility. And, having pressed the fatal button, Junior Lieutenant Gleythar Arranus fell clumsily to the floor, on his backside, and wept.
The Ganthoran Gambit (The First Admiral Series) Page 3
