T-47 Book II (Saxon Saga 6)

by Frederick Gerty

“Unknown, but presumably so.”

  “Tell everyone not to shoot at anyone on their back, pass it along, quickly,” she said, and told Eagle One the same thing.

  The ground shook with a slight earthquake, or something, and the Anawoka said, “Hellburner impact,” and turned the screen so Lori could see. She saw the image from the cambot high overhead re-running, a streak of light, a slight impact, a jetting explosion downward into the hillside, nothing, then the hillside suddenly start to rise, turn to dust, to a bright light, and the screen went blank. “Lost the cambot,” the Anawoka said unnecessarily. But to the west, a glow started, expanded, and grew. The concussion shock wave and overwhelming noise arrived almost immediately afterward, darting the smoke and dust to and fro, and bumping against her, as the aliens, expecting it, and cheered on by the arrival of reinforcements, stepped up their defensive fire.

  But with the massive explosion most of the fight went out of the attackers, and that ended the battle, what little remained, any soldiers close to the aliens falling onto their backs, the others racing away to the rear through burning grass toward the river, most discarding their weapons so they could run faster.

  “Let them go,” Lori said, as the firing slackened off and stopped. “Have aerial units follow, observe, watch for more artillery, or air craft.” Then, dispirited, she said, “Hunter, get me a casualty count.”

  “Right away,” he said, hurrying off toward the north, where the fighting had been worst.

  Sally and Morales stepped out, offering Lori a liter bottle of water. She took it, aware of how thirsty she was. Dry, hot and thirsty.

  Sally said, “Say, you were hit a few times, know that?”

  “No...where?” Lori said, looking down. Her shirt showed two holes, and now her breast and stomach hurt. She put a finger in one, felt something hard, fished around, and pulled a semi-flattened slug out with a few kevalar fibers. “Shit, this stuff works,” she said, looking at the bullet.

  “Yeah, invincible aliens, that’s us,” Sally laughed, looking at her own bloody armor. Morales, sagging against the door frame, looked up at the second lighter. He said, “Talk about getting here in the nick of time...” and waved at it as it slowly settled down, and a squad of heavily armed men, Kobi and Pokoniry, rushed out, began patrolling the ragged edge of the battle line. Soon the radio call came in, “Major, there’s wounded bandits all over out here. What’d you want to do?”

  He looked at Lori. She said, “See if we can get a call out, somehow, to the Vorkytans, tell them they need to get medial aid people here immediately. We’ll keep a truce if they do.”

  “Perhaps the Cerskogo can,” the Anawoka said. “I shall try them first. Though there may be none to talk to,” it said, motioning to the white glow of a roaring fire over the trees on the horizon from the hellburner impact site, a column of black smoke already rising a thousand meters into the sky, and climbing above the scattered white clouds.

  Lori sent the Morales’ new patrol on out toward the river, to search for snipers, or stragglers.

  Hunter returned, to say, “One dead, a Kobi, in the hagazzii, eight wounded, two seriously, worst is an illi-illi, lost a rear limb to a grenade...”

  Lori’s face paled as she saw him, a dark streak of blood running down from his right ear, and his body armor tattered, splotches of blood on both arms, and one leg.

  “You, too?” she said so softly as to be nearly inaudible.

  “Yeah, got my ear notched, I guess...” he said, touching it, and winching. “Couple other...” he started to add, when Lori went to him, and hugged him. “How about you?” he said, as they embraced on the battlefield.

  “Got shot twice. The body armor stopped ‘em both. Otherwise, just a scratch.” They hugged on, the images relayed by the cambots world wide.

  The faint “Thump-thump” of helicopters interrupted them. The Anawoka said, “The Vorkyta send medical units. We go to escort them. They will land no closer than necessary.” Then he turned his attention to Hunter, directing one of the crew in first aid. The rest of the defenders trickled in, two bigboys carrying one of the illi-illi, a sight Lori though she’d never see. Waving off more comments, she went to meet them. Sialia jumped up, and flew to her to translate.

  “How are you?” she asked, seeing the illi-illi twitching in pain. A third bigboy carried the severed leg behind them.

  “We survived,” the illi-illi chirped. “I myself slew many of the enemy...”

  “Indeed,” the bigboy to the right said. “The ugly ones fought well, with great courage and skill.”

  “Ha, who’s the ugly one?” the illi-illi said, tugging on the tattered, torn garment of the bigboy. “But you, also, fought well.”

  To Lori’s bemusement, the two bantered on as they continued to the lighter, and she followed. Some scattered “Pop-pops” sounded, and Morales’ patrol reported some light resistance near the river, soon overcome. Air cars continued to arrive, many landing, others remaining on guard overhead.

  Lori found the growing crowd more confusing and demanding than the battle itself. She asked the next Pokoniry air car to arrive to assume duties overhead as an air traffic controller. Twelve minutes later, three war cars roared in, two air tanks from the illi-illi ship, and a massive battle lighter from the bigboys. She sent them off, back to the original landing site, to investigate what was there, and destroy any military fortifications. Hunter jumped into Eagle One to go with them. He promptly reported back many small gun pits, underground bunkers, and some abandoned vehicles with artillery pieces. What’d she want done with them?

  “Destroy them all, level the place.”

  “With relish,” he said, and soon they heard the small “Whumps,” and saw new smoke clouds rising. Morales smiled when she told him.

  Around the downed lighter, first aid went on, the ground now littered with plastic and paper wrappers, cast off containers, empty water bottles, and assorted junk. She let Sally pull her armor open, and unbuttoned her shirt, and looked at her own injuries. Two rounded, dark bruises, one in mid torso, the second above her right breast, showed where the armor stopped bullets.

  “Don’t these hurt?” Sally said, as she brushed antiseptic on them.

  “Yeah, I guess,” Lori said. “Hadn’t noticed before. But, yeah, they do now.”

  “They will for a while. Better get the one above your breast scanned, might have cracked a rib or two.”

  “OK, later, but the lower one hurts worse,” she said, rubbing them both.

  As more air cars arrived, she sent some of the occupants to help on the battlefield. They reported flames threatened, the fires spreading now from the woods, and elsewhere. The air seemed filled with smoke at times, and scattered efforts began to control the fires. She asked others to help dig out the lighter, still intending to extract it.

  The wounded bandits continued to be evacuated, helicopters departing and more landing, and Lori walked out to look at the rest of the battleground. The burned and broken dead upset her, she stared at several, twisted and torn, horrible evidence of the power of death she and the others brought to bare in this small area.

  An illi-illi held up one of the attacker’s weapons, a rifle, and a belt of ammunition. “What of this material?” he asked.

  Lori thought a moment, saw some value to collectors back on Earth. “Gather it all, strip the dead, get all the weapons and ordnance, we should leave nothing here for the enemies to reclaim. Bring it up to the good lighter,” she said, pointing, and quickly followed her finger that way. Soon, a growing array of weapons appeared, carefully sorted and arranged by type, size, and condition. Most looked fairly serviceable.

  “Might we keep some, also, Sky Lady,?” the illi-illi asked. The bigboys expressed an interest, too.

  “OK, divide it equally in three.”

  She conferred with Morales and the bigboys, about how to lift the damaged lighter. Could they use other lighters to move it?

  Several people examined the wreck, debating. They reported
, “We might be able to lift it with what we have here, but not to orbit.”

  “Can we at least get it away from this area, somewhere more secure, where we can work on it, and if need be, find a way to get it off planet? I do not want to leave this technology behind.”

  “I think we can do that,” a bigboy said, and an illi-illi agreed. Soon, two groups worked to dig beneath the front and back corners of the lighter, and snaked stout cables through the tunnels. “We should be ready to lift soon,” a dirty Kobi said.

  With yet more air cars, and a couple of heavy lighters, continuing to arrive, the air and ground swarmed with activity. All the better, let this world see what happens when they mess with us, Lori thought. Smoke kept drifting in, thicker all the time, she noticed.

  Sialia alerted her to the approach of more aircraft, from the north. Cerskogo air force approached, long after the battle was over, homing in on the dark plume from the still burning hellburner. The squadron passed over, fairly high, and Sialia reported it went on to attack several Vorkyta air bases, basically unopposed. Soon after, she called King Angara, to report the battle over, and to thank him for the support.

  “We will make sure the Sky People are safe on the ground of Magadana, and root out any who would threaten you. We are deeply humiliated that our people have acted so, and beg your forgiveness.”

  “Given,” Lori said, not adding anything more.

  “Did you suffer many casualties?” he asked.

  Now, Lori saw a chance to present a bit of invincibility. She said, “Yes, we lost two, killed in action. None in the fire fight on the ground. Only some wounded there, and those superficially.”

  “We will secure compensation from the Vorkytans, for all so affected.”

  “That will be most appropriate.” And if high enough, maybe serve as even more of an incentive to leave us alone, she thought.

  A squabble of sorts broke out. Some of the weapons only yielded one or two examples, or not enough to divide equally three ways.

  Not wanting to see quarrels disrupt the spirit of cooperation, she said, “I will claim any odd material for the Expedition. It will add to the returns when sold.” The two groups looked at her. “Or you might bargain amongst yourselves, should one item or another interest you.” That left them an out, and she noticed they began immediately to resort things, the short, odd mortar tubes seeming to be most in demand by the others. Fine with Lori, she liked the firearms best, anyway.

  Hunter returned with the demolition patrol, everyone in high spirits, and many carrying booty of one sort or another. Hunter had binoculars, some packs, maps, food rations, field tables, several radios, and a couple of hand weapons. Lori told him to keep them in the air car, not to add them to the piles on the ground.

  With fires continuing to approach, and the wounded mostly evacuated, Lori pressed the group to lift the lighter. Morales’s second lighter took up the rear cables, and two bigboy lighters took each end of the forward lines. With everyone out, the group gathered to watch as the lighter shifted, moved a meter, dragging dirt along, and eased upward. People cheered as the lighters rose and flew off over the trees, heading west toward a large, open, abandoned quarry Eagle One located sixty kilometers away, and in another province.

  A net and a sling easily took the downed illi-illi air car up, it would go off-site to an illi-illi lighter, and then up to the starship in orbit. A second effort dislodged the other hagazzii stuck in the trees, and took that away, too, the dead Kobi pilot still inside.

  A team of Pokoniry, illi-illi, and humans joined the Kobi in picking up all the pieces they could find from the destroyed Kobi air car, gathering the most crucial parts before flames approached, and swept over the area.

  Winds continued to push the fires, and Lori helped everyone load the war material into the lighters. Using a bucket brigade approach, they finished in less than ten minutes, as a growing wall of flame approached. She sent everyone up and out, waiting with Eagle One and Hunter as the fleet of air cars rose, and circled the battle site. A couple of the medical helicopters lifted, too, flames close by, which blew away in the downwash from the rotors. The dead were left in place for the moment.

  With a last look around, Lori waited, the flames now racing toward them from two sides, and lifted as they approached, fire seemed to rise up and form a pillar, seen from the side by the last remaining cambot, and she lead the way into the sky, and out of sight, the last Pokoniry air car retrieving the cambot.

  Chapter 31 - After Action

  Lori followed the other air cars, and soon caught up with the massive assembly hauling the damaged military lighter. They did not go far, passing over a small range of hills, another small river, then a larger one, over another high hill and a greening valley, and descended into a hole in the earth. At least that’s what it looked like, a rough oval cut into the side of a forested slope, steep sides to the north, piles of talus to the south, heaps of shrub covered spoil on an undulating floor in the quarry, and a wide notch cut into the eastern wall, that lead out to more farm fields. Already, several air cars sat on the top of the cliffs, in the small tree growth there, and a dozen or more circled overhead.

  By the time Lori landed, people were out and milling around the damaged lighter, some shaking their heads.

  A small lighter arrived, Eagle One announced it was from the Koya, with a medical team. Lori intercepted them, pointing out the wounded crew, and said, “Get them up and out of here, and back to the ship, now.”

  Morales tried to fend them off, saying he was not that bad.

  “Major, go, now,” Lori said, pointing to the lighter. “We’ll handle it here.”

  He seemed to hesitate, but Lori saw the look of relief in his eyes, and he nodded and turned toward the medical staff. Their lighter soon lifted, and left with a sonic boom.

  Turning toward the grounded lighter, she said to one of the Pokoniry looking at it, “We really want to get that up and out of here, and back to our ship. Doable?”

  He shook his head. A few of the other engineers joined them. “Way too heavy now. But even if we lighten it, we’ll need two or three lifters, and it’ll be difficult to control and coordinate them up into orbit, let alone into your ship. Bad enough getting it this far, let alone out of the gravity well.”

  “The computers–they don’t talk to each other well,” an Anawoka said, listening to the talk around the circle. “Tough to even get here, impossible to orbit.”

  “Can the lighters make the lift, though, if the computers can be made to work?”

  “Yes, but only after everything loose is take off.”

  “Start on that now, get everything off the lighter you can, guns, ammo, everything. Get it into the other one...”

  “The body? The dead illi-illi?”

  “She’s one of ours. Leave her there, we’ll handle it on the ship.”

  Lori turned to her air car, but someone interrupted her, saying, “Native is on the way, will be here in a minute, he looks agitated.”

  “Hold him at the pass,” Lori said, pointing to the notch in the quarry wall. She looked up to see several fixed wing aircraft, native no doubt, circling overhead, kept fairly high by her own people. Again she went to Eagle One, saw Hunter there, cleaning up some of his wounds. “Hey, why didn’t you go back to the ship, let the medics do that?”

  He pointed to her own bloody arm, said, “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because I’m in...” she started to say, when an Anawoka dropped in at her side, saying, “The native one is very angry, claims this is his lands, wants us gone, and damages.”

  “I’ll talk to him. Where?” she said.

  The Anawoka pointed with a feathery arm. Lori headed that way, pleased to see things being hauled out of the shot-up lighter, and loaded onto another parked next to it. Two bigboys hauled the twin 50's between them, mount and all.

  At the far end of the notch, where the short greenery began, two air cars blocked the passage. Just past them, a dark colored four wheeled
land vehicle sat parked, with an obviously agitated native standing in front of it, speaking and gesturing to several Kobi and Pokoniry there, they armed and in battle dress. The group parted to let Lori through, and the native fell silent, glancing up to see the air car now hovering overhead. The Anawoka landed, too, further startling the native.

  “The dialect is strange, not one we have used previous,” the Anawoka said. “But I can understand it somewhat.”

  “Tell the native there has just been a great battle nearby, we stop only to repair our ship, and will soon depart.” Lori said, looking at the person, who she thought must surely be a farmer. He wore a broad-brimmed head covering, a well worn vest with many pockets, some bulging with tools or something, and a thick belt, also festooned with pouches and tools. Her people watched him carefully, weapons at the ready.

  The Anawoka spoke slowly, the native watching it. Immediately, he replied, gesturing, waving his arms, nervously moving on his feet.

  “He wishes to know who we are, and fears we will bring the battle to him, and his peaceful farm,” the Anawoka said. “He says his name is Atuka.”

  Lori took a step forward, saying, “You may introduce me.” She stopped. With an extended wing toward her, the Anawoka spoke for a moment. The native, Atuka, seemed to draw back, and lower itself a little as the introduction ended. It spoke briefly.

  “It asks if indeed you are the Sky Lady, from away from the cluster?”

  Lori took another step toward him and said, “I am, and I respectfully request your kind permission to repair our ship, then we will be on the way. The battle is over, none will follow you here. We will watch you and your farm, and insure no harm comes to you.”

  The native shrank a little more, then bowed. Looking at Lori, he spoke to her, the Anawoka translating. “Great lady, I am humbled in your presence, that you choose to visit my poor farm. Never did I imagine I would see you in person, let along speak with you. You have my permission to stop here, and remain as long as you wish. I will trust in your–something, unknown, perhaps ‘assurance,’” the Anawoka said, adding, “that my safety is secure. But what about the damage?”