Trevor spent the next two days stewing around Thebes doing nothing of note and most certainly not writing any reports for The Committee. Furthermore, he avoided Nina-Major Forest-like an addict running from heroine.
Fortunately, this proved easy because she spent those days working ‘shit duty’ (whatever that was) as penance for her role in the "failed" mission. On the other hand, he could not avoid Reverend Johnny who suddenly seemed focused on one thing only: finding a way home.
Eventually, he did find something to focus his energies.
Trevor and Johnny stood outside of their apartment building waiting for ground transportation to the Third Legion’s training facility when sirens sprung to life across the city, reverberating around the tall buildings and along empty streets.
What if someone held an air raid and no one was there to hear it?
"God in heaven, what travesty is being visited upon us?"
Before Trevor could answer a vehicle skid to a fast stop in front of the hostel. Major Nina opened the door and ordered, "Get in!"
"What? What is it?"
The siren wailed on.
"It’s the Chaktaw."
– The northern perimeter of Thebes offered three lines of defense.
Furthest out, the remains of a wall broken into isolated pillars of stubborn concrete and piles of debris loosely formed into berms. Stretches of rusting barbed wire, spiked ditches, and crosses that made Trevor think of tank-taps from his home world completed this line of physical obstacles that stood in poor condition, no more than an annoyance to an attacker.
According to Major Forest, explosive charges controlled from the 'Perimeter Command Center' overlooking the battlefield comprised the second line of defenses.
The third and final ring included concrete bunkers and earth works hiding infantry and machine gun nests. However, gaps in this line and a lack of personnel inhibited its effectiveness.
Trevor and Johnny followed Nina to the Perimeter Command bunker, an armored observation platform behind the three rings. There they found Director Snowe as well as an older black man named General Gronard. The General commanded three thousand soldiers of the First Legion manning the northern lines with elements of Snowe's Third Legion in support positions.
As he waited for the battle to begin, Trevor noted that the officers in the bunker spent more time consulting manuals and maps than observing the field before them.
When he expressed concern to Nina about a lack of preparation, she told him that The Committee had authored a booklet on procedures for defending the northern perimeter. The military followed that booklet-each and every time-to the letter.
Fortunately for the defenders of the city, Nina said that the Chaktaw had their own play book and they followed it time and time again. This was a well-learned and oft-practiced confrontation, and both sides knew the steps like country folk at a square dance
"They’re coming in. Heads up; artillery!"
Shouts of "inbound!" echoed across the defensive lines.
Trevor ducked behind the protective plating of the bunker, but still dared a view toward the battlefield. He watched the first artillery bursts hit the lines. Seeing what that artillery did…it filled him with a sick sense of dread.
Not again.
Red balls of incoming fire smacked the ground with seemingly little effect; barely a tremor but leaving a glowing, hovering sparkle. That sparkle sucked in everything within a few meters like air rushing to fill a vacuum; sucked in and vaporized.
"Awe…shit. I hate these guys," Trevor grumbled.
"Huh? You’ve fought the Chaktaw before?" Forest asked.
Johnny, crouched in a protective position, answered, "We never learned their proper names. We dubbed them ‘Vikings.’ I suppose we can update our Hostiles Database."
"What’s a Viking?"
"Never mind. It doesn’t matter. But they were some of the best fighters we faced."
"Yeah, well, some things are the same over here," Nina said
The strange artillery rounds poured in for several minutes but managed to inflict only a dozen casualties. It seemed the men of Thebes had grown accustomed to such a bombardment.
Bwoom! Phfffttt!
A ‘shell’ landed close enough to the bunker that the wind from the suction blew through the open viewport, causing papers and loose objects to whip about.
Nina told them, "After the artillery they’ll try to find a hole, charge through, and we'll beat them back. After that, they'll go away until next time."
"The machinations of their stratagem are quite apparent," the Reverend analyzed. "They are bleeding your manpower and supplies dry."
Nina answered, "Yeah, well, tell us something we don’t already know. They’ve been doing this for months."
From across the bunker, General Gronard spoke in firm, steady voice issuing orders through a communications station. "Prepare batteries one through six for reprisal fire."
Trevor recalled the Battle of Five Armies noting, "They did the same to us one time, but on a smaller scale. Back then they tried to do the job in hours. You've got more people than we had then, so they need months to do the job. Same tactic, just on a larger scale."
Reverend Johnny replied, "Ah yes, but I fear a bayonet charge is not a feasible solution."
More enemy artillery slammed the three defensive rings. Shouts. Screams.
Frustrated, Nina said, "I have no clue what you two are talking about, you know?"
Trevor touched her shoulder and said, "It’s not important. You say they do this all the time. Do you respond the same way each time?"
"Of course. We always beat them back so until they change, why should we?"
Trevor overheard Director Snowe saying to Gronard, "Where is your reprisal fire? Get those batteries going."
"They had a technical problem in fire control. It should be operational in a moment."
Trevor turned to Nina. "Counter battery fire. That’s what you do, each time?"
She nodded.
Trevor stood-actually hunched-and moved over to the two commanding officers
"Director Snowe, General-Go-Tard?"
"Gronard."
"Sorry. Listen, don’t fire your artillery."
Gronard's expression suggested Trevor spoke words of insanity. He said, "The Committee has set the procedures for defensive warfare based on extensive-" A nearby explosion caused him to pause. "Each time we are successful. I see no reason to change tactics."
Trevor’s said in a calm, reasoning voice, "No, you do see a reason to change tactics. You’re a General. You’re a warrior. But you don’t want to go against The Committee."
"The Committee is in charge."
"The Committee is three bureaucrats trying to micromanage this war. You’re a General. You have to know that using the same tactics time and again is going to fail."
"The Chaktaw don’t seem to think so."
"They’re setting you up. You know that. What would you do if you didn’t have to worry about The Committee; if General Gronard had all the responsibility for protecting this city?"
The General considered. The incoming artillery barrage slowed to an occasional pop.
Gronard looked at Snowe who nodded, a little.
"Batteries one through six," the commanding General radioed. "Hold your fire. Re-set range to…to…" Gronard looked out from the bunker with his binoculars. "…re-set range to Alpha plus two hundred meters. Do not fire until I give the order. Do you understand?"
An unsure voice on the radio answered, "Um…yes…sir."
Gronard addressed both Trevor and Director Snowe, "Right about now, they’re wondering why we haven’t returned fire."
Snowe's eyes narrowed and he added, "They may believe we lack ammunition."
"Then they’ll come," Gronard smiled. "Probably thinking today's the day they break through."
Stone asked, "Am I right to guess you usually detonate those planted charges in the second defense line on their front wave?"
"Not today," Gronard said. "Today we’ll wait a bit."
Snowe asked but without any sense of alarm, "And if they do break through?"
"That’s what Third Legion is for, right?" Gronard answered with a question of his own.
"Where are the Third Legion support elements?" Trevor thought a step ahead.
"They’re in a staging facility by the weapons depot," Snowe answered. "They could be here in five minutes by foot."
Trevor turned away from the two commanders and approached a table in the middle of the bunker. There he found a map protected under a sheath of hard plastic onto which the strategists had drawn symbols in marker; their version of push pins, no doubt.
"So? So what was all that about?" Nina asked.
Reverend Johnny warned, "I fear you are upsetting the status quo?"
"Nina," Trevor waved a hand over the table. "Translate this for me."
The Major pointed to the map as she explained, "It’s the area north of us. Like, you can see the defensive lines. Here…and here…these lines with the jagged check marks are the fixed emplacements. And here…those circles with the stars are the explosive charges."
"What about the terrain out there, where the Chaktaw are coming from."
"Oh. Okay. Well, it’s flat for about a kilometer, then there are some hills-nothing big-and then there’s a lot of, like, wasteland and a quarry. We strip mined it into a big dust bowl years ago to get at the minerals."
"And they always come from the north?"
Forest answered, "Yep. And they’ll retreat that way too. That is, if they don’t bust through our lines now that we don’t have reprisal fire hitting them."
"What’s this, here, east of the wastelands and quarry?"
She peered close. "That’s a dry river bed."
Trevor traced the river bed. It pushed east then looped back west not far from the quarry along the enemy’s anticipated path of egress.
"They go through this quarry? Each time?"
"I think so, yeah. I mean, wherever they’re attacking us from it’s somewhere directly north, so that’s the quick way. But, hey, that base of theirs has to be a lot of kilometers away. Our recon has never spotted it. I don’t think we can hit it from-"
"Okay. Relax," Trevor assured. "I don’t want to hit their base. Just curious, that’s all."
The Chaktaw’s artillery bombardment ceased without challenge from human counter-fire. The soldiers of Thebes in the defensive emplacements fidgeted nervously, certainly wondering why their guns had not answered the enemy.
Then came the shock troops and Trevor saw that, yes, the Chaktaw were the Viking invaders Trevor knew from his Earth.
They poured forward in two sledgehammer-like columns dressed in camouflage ponchos. Trevor had seen those ponchos turn black and green for battle in the forest. The Jon Brewer of Trevor’s Earth had seen them turn white to blend into the arctic landscape. Reverend Johnny had seen them both times, but never in such numbers with their ponchos changing to earth tones to hide best against the brown tundra of the land they crossed.
At least three thousand came, another two thousand waited to exploit any breakthrough.
The columns included large beasts, some carrying troops on their shoulders. The things-fat lizards the size of elephants-wobbled side to side as they walked. In addition, some of the Chaktaw rode big motorized tricycles.
As they approached, more Chaktaw artillery fell but this time delivered a smoke screen of the same color as the earth tones on the enemy ponchos.
"Here they come!" Gronard stated the obvious.
"Let’s hope this works…" Snowe stated the obvious as well.
First through the smoke charged the large lizards, spurred on by whip-wielding handlers. The things roared toward the human lines in a frenzy, knocking over debris and barreling through security wire, their thick skin oblivious to the sharp barbs.
Then the line of attacking soldiers burst through the smoke screen and pushed beyond the first ring of barricades with little trouble.
The bunker's radio broadcast, "Command, this is artillery control. The Committee has contacted us to find out why we haven’t fired. I don’t know what to tell them."
"Just wait for my signal," Gronard replied.
The raging lizards and the vanguard of the Chaktaw reached the first line of explosives, charging in an enthusiastic sprint as if sensing an opportunity for final victory.
"They’re going to overrun us!" Forest shouted as she reached for her two pistols hanging in dual shoulder harnesses.
"Relax. They’re already dead," Trevor spoke loud enough so that his confidence might infect everyone in the bunker.
The human defenders in the third line of defenses responded to the onslaught. Machine gun fire struck at Chaktaw infantry, portable missile launchers blew a part two of the lizards.
The incoming wave slowed, but did not stop. They lobbed fragmentation grenades into trenches. They sprayed lethal acid into pillboxes from backpack tubes affixed to hose-like guns.
That last line of defense became fully engaged with the spearhead of the enemy thrust. Certainly this was the moment the invaders hoped for after months of attack. Indeed, as the smoke screen blew off, the human commanders saw the Chaktaw reserves readying to join the assault; to provide that last assault to breach Thebes' defenses.
"I’ll order Third Legion forward," Snowe announced but, again, without any panic.
"No!" Trevor shouted then repeated, "No. We’ll need them for later."
Gronard set his plan into motion with a radio call, "All batteries, fire!"
The human artillery came to life, lobbing over the Chaktaw vanguard and into their mustering reserves catching the confident attackers on open ground. Poncho-wearing bodies flew into the air with each explosion, many in small pieces.
"Demolition control! Ignite primary charges!"
The explosive second ring of defenses popped off like fire crackers, tossing enemy infantry and decimating the heart of the attack wave.
The Chaktaw’s own artillery was powerless to intervene; any shots at the human defenses would also hit their own soldiers. In contrast, nothing inhibited Gronard's guns. Shells pummeled a relief force, first halting their advance then sending them into retreat.
At the forefront of the battle, the two columns of Chaktaw infantry engaging that final ring of defenses found themselves isolated and without support, a change in disposition noticed by the human defenders. The momentum of battle swung.
"Secondary charges! Detonate!"
Smoke from explosions, rifle fire, and grenades drifted across the defensive lines. From the bunker, Trevor and the others saw enemy corpses form in piles
"I will hand you over to ravaging men, artisans of destruction. You shall be fuel for the fire; your blood shall flow throughout the land."
Johnny’s quotation was the only spoken word in the command bunker for several long minutes; long minutes of watching their soldiers cut down what remained of the enemy's charge, of watching their artillery pulverize the retreating attackers.
After another half-an-hour of carnage, Gronard halted the bombardment leaving a battlefield covered with enemy bodies.
Through binoculars, Trevor saw the remnants of the Chaktaw army-five-hundred fighters and support personnel at best-gather beyond the range of Thebes' guns. He saw a defeated enemy, walking with their poncho'd heads slumped and constantly looking over their shoulders as if waiting for another nasty surprise. He saw them hurriedly gather what supplies they could carry and turn to the north, from whence they came.
In the meantime, the human defenders stood in their battlements and cheered, rifles thrust into the air, waving fists taunted their foe.
"Amazing," General Gronard said and then looked at Trevor. "You did it."
"No, General, you did it. I only convinced you to try."
Gronard drifted into something like a trance.
"You look…you look so much like…so much like…"
"I’m not," Trevor cut him off.
An aide interrupted, "The Committee is on the phone. They demand an immediate explanation as to why there was a change in doctrine."
Gronard said, "Whatever heat I take for not following the rule book was worth it. They can’t argue with results."
Trevor realized that everyone in the bunker thought the battle over. He protested, "Wait a second. We’re not done here."
"We’re done," Snowe said emphatically. "Let’s not push things too hard."
Trevor stepped toward him and said, "Every time they attack you beat them off. They go away, they come back. Every time."
"Not like this," Nina cut in. "You really, I mean, we really beat them up good. I’ve never seen them take that many casualties. Damn, we really bloodied their nose."
"Bloodied their nose? We have a chance to drive a stake through their heart!"
Gronard spoke into the phone, "Yes, I understand protocol. I saw an opportunity…yes, the military is subservient to The Committee…yes, we’ll be there in a few moments."
The General hung up the phone, sighed, and rejoined the group.
He spoke to Trevor, "I'm not sure who you really are but I’d rather have you on the other end of the phone than those…never mind. They want me and Director Snowe right now."
Snowe protested, "I have to take my men back to base and file after-action reports."
"Oh no," Gronard corrected. "The Committee wants to see us now."
Snowe scowled, showing the most emotion Trevor had seen from him since arriving in this alternate universe. The Committee had a hold on these people for some reason or another.
"Major Forest," the Director commanded without looking at her. "Take the Third Legion units back to barracks. I’ll meet up with you after I get my ass chewed out."
Snowe then took a step away. Trevor grabbed his arm.
"You know we have an opportunity right now, today. Why are you letting it slide by?"
Snowe put it bluntly, "Because The Committee is in charge, not you."
Snowe and Gronard left the bunker.
Trevor walked to the observation window. In the distance, he saw the Chaktaw moving away, a defeated army but nevertheless still an army.
– Trevor and Nina led a mob of junior officers from the First and Third Legions toward a security station next to a heavy metal door far away from any barracks.
The supply officer there gaped at the grim-faced gang descending upon his post. If he gave any thought to stopping them, it did not show. Besides, with a Major at the head of the group they must have obtained permission from The Committee to access the arsenal. Right?
Nina confiscated his key and brushed him aside, leading the crew into the armory.
The officers-volunteers-gathered rifles, fragmentation grenades, and light artillery shells in crates and on carts. At the same time, they stocked up for themselves. The room filled with the sound of magazines clicking into guns, weapon rigs strapping on, knives and bayonets slipping into sheaths and snapping onto barrels.
Trevor grabbed a rifle from a long rack of guns and then accepted a handful of magazines from one of the men he had recruited.
Soldiers from the Third Legion-the ones who trained with Trevor for two weeks and heard the stories about the defeated Geryon Battleship-eagerly volunteered.
Several squads of the First Legion had been nearly as easy to convince. They were battle weary, having spent months successfully defending the northern perimeter, only to watch the Chaktaw withdraw each time with little price paid. After tasting victory that morning, they starved for more.
Trevor estimated five hundred enemy troops plus dozens more combat-ineffective injured withdrawing to the north. Through these officers, Trevor ‘recruited’ nearly four hundred from the two Legions, and had done it in less than an hour.
It did not concern him that they would be outnumbered; Trevor knew the attackers had been badly demoralized.
Furthermore, while Nina explained that the AATC fleet was too well guarded to be ‘borrowed,’ she promised something else; something collecting dust because The Committee refused to expend resources; because The Committee felt content to sit behind defenses fighting off attacks without ever striking back.
Reverend Johnny pulled a large, heavy machine gun from the wall. While he held little enthusiasm for Trevor's plan, the big gun brought a smile to his face.
Trevor glanced around the armory. He sensed a combination of excitement and focus from the soldiers. He had done it yet again; he had found the fighter in his fellow man and brought it to the surface. In this case, he did it despite each of these officers knowing they could face charges of insubordination.
He saw Nina checking her dual pistols and working the bolt on an assault rifle. She felt his eyes on her body. The Major met his gaze and grinned. She liked his eyes on her. She enjoyed him watching her as if she were the only person in the universe.
The power in the room mixed with the electricity crackling between Trevor and Nina. A raw energy. A dark energy.
Power…
…On the move again but this time the mob numbered hundreds, following Major Forest to a large set of metal shutters at the end of a lonely corridor.
Reverend Johnny stepped to the forefront, grabbed the handle, and grunted as he rolled the heavy portal open letting free a rush of stale air from a pitch black chamber.
While the others waited, Nina leaned inside. After the sound of heavy switches activating, lights flickered across a massive garage.
To Trevor, the place felt more like a tomb with dozens of relics covered in blue tarps and those tarps covered in a thick layer of dust.
Stone, Johnny, and the rest watched as Major Forest sauntered toward the nearest relic, grabbed its tarp, and-like a model introducing a new car at an auto show-ripped off the cover revealing a metal-framed buggy with gun mounts and seating for four.
The mass flooded the garage, eagerly freeing the vehicles from their shrouds. Underneath they found more buggies well as three and four-axle assault vehicles and transport trucks.
Soldiers loaded missiles into launchers, fed chain ammunition into machine guns, and stowed artillery shells in ammunition bins. Then they piled in and hung on wherever they could. The roar of engines and the sharp, greasy smell of fuel fumes filled the motor pool.
Nina climbed into the driver’s seat of a buggy with Trevor at her side and Johnny behind. In front of them, a horizontal metal bulkhead rolled up. The brilliant glow of the afternoon sun burst in like a fire bomb.
Nina pushed the accelerator. The lead buggy rolled out and into that sun followed by a swarming, rumbling mass of large and small vehicles, all captured on a security camera…
…feeding to a large monitor in the Operations Center.
The sight astounded a technician. He gasped and then drew the attention of Director Snowe, General Gronard, and the three men of The Committee who were in the midst of a spirited conversation about rules, regulations, and protocols.
"Um…Sirs…"
In unison, The Committee spied the incredible sight of their army’s vehicles speeding out from the garage like a stampede of angry beasts.
"Unbelievable!"
"Intolerable!"
"Insubordination!"
But they could only watch as…
…the lead buggy directed the pack of predators along the river bed to the east of the Chaktaw’s path. The rubber tires of the vehicles kicked up a plume of dust.
Trevor sat in the passenger seat next to the Major, constantly checking his watch to ensure they kept to schedule.
Bobbing and bouncing on the rough path, they sped north alongside the dried river bed, racing to get ahead of the Chaktaw's retreat…
…which resembled a mass of shambling, defeated zombies moving through the quarry.
A few remaining draft lizards wobbled along pulling heavy, catapult-like artillery pieces as well as medical wagons full of wounded. A couple of three-wheeled motor bikes cruised amidst the rabble of shuffling foot shoulders.
The Chaktaw fighters-still shocked at their defeat in front of Thebes-moved unaware they were being watched…
…by Trevor Stone through a pair of binoculars.
What Nina called a quarry seemed more a dirt path surrounded by banks of dusty soil and rocks, most likely the byproduct of the long-abandoned mining operation she had described.
None of that mattered to Trevor. What mattered was that the ‘quarry’ made for the perfect ambush. So perfect, in fact, he was surprised the Chaktaw had not scouted it first or at least moved their flank guards to the high ground.
Of course, the humans of Thebes had never pursued the attackers before. Perhaps The Committee's consistently weak and predictable response-or lack thereof-had lulled the Chaktaw into carelessness.
He observed the enemy column enter the long pass between the banks and held his hand aloft. He waited…waited…then waved the signal.
Short-range artillery shook the Chaktaw from their daze in a series of blasts claiming several easy victims. After that first volley, the collective holler of hundreds of human troops filled the quarry as they charged over the banks spitting rifle fire and tossing grenades.
Reverend Johnny swept the shocked column with his heavy weapon and while the design was foreign the results were quite familiar: enemy bodies torn to shreds, brown-shaded camouflage ponchos turned blood-red.
Nina emptied an entire clip from her bullpup carbine as she raced-nearly stumbled-down the slope. Instead of reloading, she discarded the rifle and pulled both pistols from their holsters. She fired madly, spent shell casings spewed from the ejector ports.
Some Chaktaw dropped to the ground and fired, others formed hasty lines of defense. Their guns answered and many humans fell in the barrage.
The second phase of the trap commenced with armored assault cars and gun-wielding buggies entering the quarry from the north and south, sealing their prey in a box.
Large chain guns swept a swath of death through the enemy ranks. Short range missiles pulverized pack animals and turned motor tricycles into smoldering ruins.
The Chaktaw managed to launch a few of their own anti-armor projectiles and knocked out several human vehicles…but not enough. Not nearly enough.
Trevor urged the wave of enraged humanity forward. Three of the enemy stood in his way, firing in his direction. Either through divinity or fortune, their shots went wide. Trevor’s fire did not. He emptied all his bullets into two poncho-wearing enemies. The third tried to reload. Trevor did not give him the chance; he drove his bayonet into the belly of his foe while screaming an angry roar; a beastly roar. The thrust of his weapon hoisted the humanoid off of his feet and threw him to the ground where the carcass rolled.
More chain guns; more of Nina’s dual pistols; more of First and Second Legion’s infantry firing rifles and throwing grenades.
Then it stopped.
Piles of bodies-some human, most not-filled the quarry…
… Pitiful moans and tearful medic calls replaced the sounds of battle. Dead and dying bodies formed piles across the floor of the quarry.
Trevor stepped over those bodies with his bayonet pointed down, waiting to spot movement and eager to put an end to any Chaktaw that still breathed. He stopped his work to eye a soldier leading three unarmed enemies away.
"Hey! Whoa! What’s this?"
The soldier answered, "Prisoners, sir."
Stone pulled his side arm. "Prisoners? Fuuuck that."
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Trevor holstered his gun and tried to get back to work but Nina approached with a question. "What do we do with the bodies?"
As Trevor answered, he made sure his voice carried to any within earshot.
"We take our dead home. No one gets left behind, understand?"
Trevor emphasized his point by making eye contact with as many of soldiers as he could.
She asked, "And the Chaktaw?"
He thought for a moment. He thought about how The Committee's ineptitude had taught the Chaktaw they could attack Thebes with impunity. He thought about humanity down to one last city; humanity trapped in a corner seemingly on the verge of total collapse.
Whatever mistakes his predecessor had made on this world, this Trevor would not do the same. It was time the Chaktaw and their ilk understood that Thebes would no longer be an easy target.
He told her, "I have an idea…"
…The men worked. They smashed the Chaktaw’s carts and wagons into wood beams and metal poles and found straps, rope, and cord to bind and secure. They hammered and built and hoisted as the afternoon grew long and as the sun dropped toward horizon. The sound of their construction echoed over the quarry walls.
All the while Reverend Johnny watched. He watched with an expression that morphed from disbelief into shock into horror. He could not even register a protest to Trevor, for he feared what the response might be.
As the last light of day turned orange and flickered away behind the horizon ray by ray, Trevor’s masterpiece was complete.
While the armored vehicles and buggies loaded supplies and people and bodies in preparation for the return trip, Trevor and Nina stood in the shadows of his creation.
"So, what is it?" She asked.
Trevor told her the truth.
"A warning."
His answer complete, he walked over to their buggy and climbed in the passenger’s seat. Reverend Johnny sat silent in the back.
Major Forest took one last look at what Trevor had constructed, then drove them away in the direction of Thebes; in the direction home.
They left behind the bodies of the Chaktaw, eviscerated bodies hanging upside down in the twilight; blood and gore dripping; arms dangling toward the ground and secured to roughshod crucifixes made of wood and metal.
Hundreds of them, lined together row upon row along the ridges of the quarry. On display for all to see. For all to know.
For all to fear.