"Whattaya lookin' at? You're all a bunch of fucking assholes. You know why? 'Cause you don't have the guts to be what you wanna be. You need people like me. You need people like me so you can point your fucking fingers, and say that's the bad guy. So, what dat make you? Good? You're not good; you just know how to hide. Howda lie. Me, I don't have that problem. Me, I always tell the truth-even when I lie. So say goodnight to the bad guy. Come on; the last time you gonna see a bad guy like this, let me tell ya. Come on, make way for the bad guy. There's a bad guy comin' through; you better get outta his way!" — the character of Tony Montana in Scarface
Despite a few grumbles here and there, Trevor Stone controlled Thebes. He spent two weeks consolidating that control, relying on Director Snowe and Nina to spot potential problems before any disgruntled elements could organize opposition.
The weather helped. Eight inches of icy snow fell on the city and surrounding countryside, creating a sense of isolation and making control over power and food distribution an even stronger tool at his disposal. Any attitudes that required adjusting found their heat cut off and meal credits suspended.
As his grip solidified, he considered the big picture; a picture that involved dealing with the Chaktaw in a more permanent fashion and, eventually, turning his attention to the Geryons. Although Major Forest insisted otherwise, Trevor felt certain he could find more survivors out in the wasteland, or perhaps in alien slave pens.
He vowed to find out one way or another and planned a spring offensive, a move that would require training and preparation.
Much to his delight, Director Snowe and Major Forest saw to the details, leaving Trevor free to concentrate on grand plans. In that sense, he found this new throne far more pleasant than the old. Here, Trevor did not concern himself with supplies, logistics, industry, health care, or any god damn Senates. He faced no challenges from wannabe politicians and the people followed his orders as obediently as the K9s of his home world.
In short, he focused completely on the fighting and not fighting with push pins, either; fighting with a gun in his hand amidst the storm of battle. And all with Major Forest…the lovely, accommodating, Major Forest…at his side during the day and during many wonderful nights.
He organized intense training exercises, even blocking off much of downtown for large-scale war games pitting legion against legion, the victors earning extra rations and luxuries. When Snowe expressed concern over diminishing fuel reserves, Trevor assured that with the victories to come they would find and exploit more resources.
The time came for Trevor to share his plan. He gathered his Generals in the Operations Center, utilizing one of the huge monitors to display a map of the surrounding territory.
Nina’s people referenced sectors and grid numbers instead of names; part of what she said had been their Trevor's plan to forget the old. It seemed an awkward and inefficient approach, but since Trevor thought he would not recognize the names from this alternate Earth anyhow, he kept the system in place. Nonetheless, he knew the map they examined that day showed the topography of the area that on his duplicate Earth was 'Pennsylvania'.
He also recognized the Great Lakes to the west, the converging three rivers to the southwest, and the Appalachian Mountains cutting across the center of the region. He knew the vacant old estate was a couple of hours east and that the Chaktaw came from somewhere to the north from what he thought of as New York.
The geography was essentially the same, just not developed in an identical fashion, meaning he could not trust his memories of cities, roads, or other man-made points.
Nina’s people did not talk about the old world. She explained they had gone to great lengths to erase many of the reminders. Again, she said the 'old' Trevor had introduced this concept to which the new one responded, "Who am I to argue with myself?"
Again, he thought such an approach awkward and inefficient for them, but for himself it made no difference since learning the names her people gave to cities and places might actually confuse him more than generic numbers and sector designations.
In any case, he told a technician to, "zero in on grid reference W-F Five," an area some twenty miles southwest of Thebes.
"What do you see?" Trevor asked his assembled officers and confidants.
General Goss-a white haired pot-bellied man who grunted a lot-answered, "I see steep hills and forest."
"Look closer."
Snowe said, "According to recon, there’s a Windigo living in that area."
Trevor did a mental translation. "That’s what my people call a Goat-Walker."
"That’s not what you’re looking for, is it?" General Gronard asked.
"No. I look at that hillside and you know what I see? I see oil. Plenty of it. Enough to take care of our fuel problems for a while."
Goss scoffed, "Bah! How do you see oil there?"
"Because on my Earth that area was the site of the world’s first commercial oil well. So if all you have here is mountain and forests that means…"
"That means there’s oil waiting to be found," Snowe said.
"So?" Goss asked.
"So let’s go pop that cherry."
Each them gaped at Trevor, confused at the reference.
"What does that mean?" Nina asked.
"Um…never mind. Give me W-A Six through W-A Fifteen."
The video map pulled out, scrolled, and then tightened on an area northeast of Thebes.
"And then there are these guys."
Goss: "Huh? What guys?"
Snowe answered, "The Chaktaw."
Nina said, "They came at us from somewhere up north. I mean, they’ve got to have a base up there or something. Right?"
Gronard added, "We haven’t heard from them in weeks, not since their force got wiped out by…by Trevor," he nodded at their new leader.
"Maybe the warning has scared them off," Nina thought aloud.
Director Snowe said, "Recon units found a Chaktaw outpost in that area."
"That outpost isn’t their main base," Trevor said. "They were using it as a staging area for hitting Thebes. If there isn't a sizeable force there now, there will be when they reconstitute."
"So? So what?" Goss asked.
"This is pretty obvious, don’t you think? Tell him, General Gronard."
"We wipe out that outpost. It might lead us to their main base. Maybe take that out, too."
Trevor ordered the technician, "Show me W-C Four."
The monitor displayed a close up of what the map noted as a ‘Class Two Lake WH 3’ or what Trevor recognized as "Lake Erie."
"I give you a big food source. Fish. More specifically, what I would call walleye, perch, small mouth bass and more."
"One problem," Director Snowe said. "There’s a city in that area occupied by Duass infantry. They’re well armed with support vehicles."
Trevor now knew that the Plats his people fought in Ohio back home actually went by the name 'Duass'.
"We swoop on in, clean em’ out, and set up shop. Then we secure a road between here and there."
"We don’t have the resources to do that," Goss objected.
To Trevor's surprise, Snowe said, "I agree with General Goss. We should concentrate on the Chaktaw."
Trevor ignored their objections. "Sure we do. We just have to work a little harder. And trust me on this, we start poking around out there," Trevor jabbed his thumb over his shoulder in reference to the world outside, "we’re going to start finding the things we need to survive."
"Big plans," Nina said. "Maybe we should forget the Duass and hit the Chaktaw again."
Trevor glanced at her. He sensed how thrilled she was to be a part of the meeting. No doubt another reason why she had wanted Trevor back. There she was, hanging with the Generals planning grand strategy.
"We may reach too far," Goss protested. "I hope saying as much won't cost me my head."
Trevor put a hand on his shoulder. "Now is the time to present different opinions. But once the decision is made, it will be followed. Failure to do that will cost you your head."
– "Team one, stand by, here he comes," Nina transmitted via radio.
Ahead of her stretched a wide open mountaintop surrounded by tall, frosty pine trees.
The ground rumbled.
An incoming transmission reported, "Standing by. Damn, is this really going to work?"
She radioed, "Corporal Brewer, just get your team ready to fire. You get one shot."
"Copy that."
Nina raised her binoculars and peered into the clearing. She saw puffs of snow pop off branches as trees swayed violently side to side.
General Gronard spoke in her ear, "He sure is a crazy one, isn’t he?"
"Crazy? No. He’s not crazy. He’s brave."
"I suppose that’s why you went to the trouble of bringing him here. You're really walking a thin line with him, aren't you?"
She replied, "Just make sure your men keep up their end and I'll take care of the rest. He might be our only hope of staying alive. Keep that in mind and we'll get by."
The trees beyond the rim of the clearing swayed as if a tornado approached.
"Watch your aim, Brewer," Nina communicated a warning to the man whose nose Stone broke a month ago.
Trevor ran out from the forest and across the glaze of snow on the open mountain. Behind him, trees crashed and splintered as the pursuing monster stepped into the clearing.
Standing some twenty-stories tall, it wore a scaly, tinny skin that occupied some middle ground between flesh and artificial armor. Its thick legs resembled industrial-sized support struts of a biological nature while ram horns wrapped its head to either side of a goat-face sporting glowing red eyes. Instead of hands at the end of two gigantic arms the creature used cloven hooves that could serve no purpose other than adding to the beast's power to destroy.
This fiend appeared demonic in nature, certainly one of the most horrid of the invasion’s horrors. And Trevor Stone had just duped its Hell-born ass.
The new leader of humanity’s war on this Earth crossed the field and stopped. Trevor knew that a dozen soldiers watched. A dozen of his soldiers; a new breed birthed from the ashes of a neglected army.
So why not a show?
Trevor turned and faced the massive monster. It glared at the puny prey. Trevor held his two hands aloft with one finger on each above the rest.
"Drop this BITCH!"
Anti-armor missiles shot out from the tree line, trailed by strands of black and gray smoke streaming from flares of burning red propellant. The projectiles smashed into what Nina’s people called a Windigo and Trevor called a Goat-Walker.
The impact sent it falling backwards. Explosions knocked off thick slabs of skin and gory, colorful innards splattered onto the snow below.
The soldiers cheered Trevor, the man who mocked the monsters.
Nina's radio crackled, "Tactical team, this is Mother. You ready for that delivery?"
"Ten-Four, Mother. We’re ready."
The hum of jet engines drifted over the mountain top. After a moment, another giant came to the clearing, this one man-made. To Trevor's eye it resembled a large cargo airliner except with the center stretch of fuselage hollowed out in favor of a harness and hoist.
It moved lazily, more like a helicopter than a plane. Its turbines rotated down putting the craft into a hover. Then the plane descended vertically toward the surface of the clearing aided by a soldier with bright blue directional cones.
A portable drilling well dangled from the hoist and lowered toward the mountaintop not far from the destroyed giant demon. The engines roared as they struggled to ease the payload to the mark. The drill touched the ground and the hoist cables unhooked in a series of metallic clanks. Workers shouted orders over the roar of the huge cargo vessel that retreated to the sky after delivering its package.
"We’re going to need a couple of days worth of oil from the well just to make up for the fuel used by the Heavy-42 to get it here," Gronard approached Trevor and said.
"You’ll get it, General. You’re going to get everything you need."
– Three days after establishing several drilling sites they found black gold. Dozens then hundreds of barrels began arriving at Thebes via ground convoy.
Trevor assigned General Goss the job of finding and blasting the predatory hostiles who disrupted the convoys, mainly a pack of Jaw-Wolves. However, the drill sites and convoys shut down for a couple of days anyway as a nasty early March snow storm ravaged the area dumping nearly a foot of grainy white stuff.
Trevor turned the annoyance of bad weather into one gigantic party. He arranged sled racing and snow-fort building contests in the name of "Winter’s Last Hooray."
Surprised at this sudden soft side, Nina wondered why he became so magnanimous. Trevor admitted that the partying served a practical reason. He wanted socializing; he wanted mating. If they were truly the last batch of humans on Earth, then the only way to save the race was to start repopulating the planet. That meant babies. That took social interaction.
As was often the case with late snow, it did not stay around for long. A blast of warm air sent the temperature into the fifties and melted everything away.
The time came to get back to work.
– Reconnaissance reported large numbers of Chaktaw soldiers and equipment, including artillery, occupying an outpost north of Thebes. Like so many of the structures on this Earth, the 'outpost' was comprised of mountainside buildings that came across as one part cave and one part building. In this case, those buildings were lined up at the base of a steep red rock hill in a manner suggesting an old commercial district, maybe even this world's version of a strip mall.
As he led the assault from onboard a Skipper, Trevor found the situation had changed.
Below, a column of infantry transports and armored attack vehicles moved north on a series of dirt and concrete roads cutting through forest-covered hills. Ahead, columns of smoke marked the Chaktaw outpost despite the fact that no human weapons had yet fired.
"Say again, recon?" Trevor responded to a message from a forward ground team.
Corporal Brewer repeated, "Severe damage to enemy position. Perimeter barricades breached at multiple points, I have eyes-on destroyed heavy weapons and looks like a lot of Chaktaw casualties."
Trevor turned to Nina. "One of the other legions playing games?"
"No," she said with surety. "Not a chance. The Generals know you don't like games."
She steered the craft in close but instead of making the originally planned attack run, Major Forest flew slow for a good view of the outpost.
As the scouts reported, the flat stone lot in front of the mountainside showed signs of battle; blast craters, a rock wall smashed in several places, and the destroyed carcasses of Chaktaw vehicles and artillery pieces, some of which still smoldered. Around everything, poncho-clad bodies sprawled on the ground.
The buildings of the compound sprouted from the mountain and had been constructed of some kind of rock, making Trevor think of the cliff dwellings of the ancestral pueblo tribes from the southwestern United States back home, very much like what he had seen at the lake when he went searching for Trevor's estate. What had been a rather isolated, regional architecture on his Earth had apparently gained wider acceptance on this one.
Of course, style did not matter to Trevor. Who had beaten them to the outpost did.
Brewer's scouting party reported, "Got some live ones hiding out on the western side of the compound. We took small arms fire."
Trevor ordered Nina to, "Set us down by the west side."
She complied, easing the Skipper to the ground between the ruined remains of two catapult-like artillery pieces.
Trevor radioed, "Skipper flight one, fly a recon mission around the enemy base. Skipper flight two, stay on station overhead to provide cover for ground forces."
Three of the flying machines banked off to survey the surrounding mountains and forests, another three buzzed about in the sky above with their missiles and guns ready to fire.
Once landed, Trevor led Major Forest and a squad of soldiers toward the buildings on the western edge of the outpost. As he moved, he noticed signs hanging from or fallen in front of the various structures built against the mountainside. While time and damage had eroded the images and letters, he did not need to be able to read them to recognize retail signs.
Yes, this place had once been a shopping center or something of the kind; most recently it served the purposes of the Chaktaw and their quest to eradicate humanity from the planet.
He came upon Corporal Brewer and his three-man reconnaissance team huddled behind debris from the broken perimeter wall.
"Small arms from inside, sir," he reported and pointed toward one of the 'store' fronts that suffered from burn and explosive damage. "Not sure how many."
"Okay, let's check it out. Corporal, keep your team here to cover us, the rest of you follow me, we're going to get close enough for a look."
With his assault rifle held ready and its bayonet gleaming in the sharp afternoon sunlight, Trevor weaved the squad around destroyed vehicles and dead bodies, approaching the occupied building. When they neared the gaping hole where a front door once stood, Chaktaw rounds zipped by his nose and forced the unit flush against the front fascia.
When the shooting slowed, the new Emperor peered in through what might have once been a window. He saw movement back there in the shadows but had to pull back when enemy fire ricocheted off a stone support pillar a few feet in front of his face.
Trevor turned to Nina, his hand held open, and said, "Throw Cam."
Nina produced a softball-sized device from her utility belt and gave it to him. Tiny lenses covered the gray and black sphere.
Trevor took a deep breath, concentrated, and then leaned in again. He hurled the round object into the destroyed building and retreated just as Chaktaw rifles tried to kill him again.
Major Forest held a monitor about the size of a portable video game. She cycled through the available camera angles until she found the picture offering the best tactical analysis.
"There. In the northwest corner. Four of them."
To Trevor's surprise, the Chaktaw hiding in the building did not wear their usual camouflage ponchos. However, he recognized them all the same from his meeting prior to the Battle of Five Armies when the alien commander offered a merciful death to honor the human army's courage.
Just as he remembered, their heads differed from men in that they had big puffy cheeks with wiry hair, almost whiskers. Their scalps lacked any hair in the center. Instead, strands of fibrous thatch circled the edges of their skulls.
The group of four hid in a corner behind overturned furniture and a stack of food stuffs, armed with rifles that fired bullet-like pellets from a magnetic rail gun.
"What do you think?" Nina asked.
He raised his radio and transmitted, "Flight Two leader, you copy? I got some bugs that need to be squashed."
The radio hummed, "Copy ground team, exterminator en route."
"Marking target," Trevor radioed and casually flipped a grenade spewing gray smoke in front of the store. He then moved the squad away.
One of the AATCs banked around and dove. The white and red missiles under its short wings glinted in the sun like talons on a bird of prey.
When they reached cover, Nina said, "I'm surprised you're going to waste missiles on four Chaktaw."
"For these guys, we use a hammer on an ant if we need to. I hate these fucks."
One of the Skipper's rockets shot out and arrowed into the remains of the building, actually flying in the open front door and detonating inside. A muffled clap preceded a bubbling ball of brown and black smoke that poured from the interior.
Trevor immediately waved his men forward and inside, meeting no resistance.
The missile strike ignited a few small fires but the main obstacle to searching the room was the dust left over from the ceiling collapse. Like others on the team, Trevor covered his mouth and nose with his hand, wishing he had brought a mask.
He ordered, "We're searching for anything that could lead us to their main base."
"You find nothing. We burn good."
Trevor shot around at the sound of an alien voice to see two of his men dragging a Chaktaw survivor from the rubble. The thing smiled, apparently happy that humanity would find nothing of use at the destroyed outpost.
Trevor, however, reacted more to the creature's speech than the substance of what it said. It surprised him to hear a Chaktaw speaking his language, albeit in a rough fashion. The Chaktaw-or Vikings-he had fought at Five Armies used translation devices to communicate.
"You speak my tongue? Now this is interesting."
"Yes. Some us learn you words so we can order you around when you defeated."
Nina pulled one of her twin pistols and put it to the creature’s head.
Trevor held his hand up to stop her. "No. No. Wait a moment. This is very fortunate."
"I didn’t think you liked prisoners," Forest said and appeared eager to do the dirty work.
"Oh, I live and learn, sweetheart. I’m sure our friend here-our buddy who can speak our language-I’m sure he would be happy to tell us about their main base, wouldn’t you?"
Nina holstered her gun and said, "We have people, I mean, the old Trevor…he sometimes had people interrogate prisoners. I’m sure they’d be happy to do it again."
"Good. Take our friend back to Thebes and discuss the matter with him. See if you can find out who beat us to the punch here, too."
As the soldiers dragged the prisoner away, the Chaktaw said, "Fromm will destroy your city! He is coming for you. He is coming!"
"Did you say, Fromm?" Trevor stopped them. "Force Commander Fromm? I remember that son of a bitch."
Fromm had been the name of the Viking commander at Five Armies; the one Trevor had killed then held his body toward the heavens to announce humanity’s resurgence.
"He will destroy you."
"I’ll tell you what, buddy, what’s that tradition of yours? Oh yeah, if you tell me where your main base is, I’ll allow your people to surrender and die peacefully. How’s that?"
The Chaktaw did not reply, but the look in its eyes suggested surprise at Trevor’s knowledge of its customs as well as indignation at the idea his people could ever be defeated.
"Take this thing away," Major Forest ordered. "Turn it over to Intel."
Trevor watched them go and said, "I think I’m starting to like this. This is almost fun."
– According to Major Forest, the 'old' Trevor placed an emphasis on decoding the languages of the enemy factions. This resulted in a certain number of translators capable of understanding-to some degree-enemy conversations and transmissions as well as providing for the vigorous interrogation of prisoners.
As a result, Nina’s people knew that the three-legged duck-billed aliens Trevor called "Plats" or "Platypuses" actually went by the name "Duass." And as they had discussed when planning the spring offensive, those aliens had established a colony along the coast of a lake Trevor named "Erie"; the name it held on his Earth.
Trevor did not know if the town the Duass occupied was of their creation or had existed prior to the invasion, but from aerial reconnaissance photos he saw more conventional buildings-not sprouting from mountains or built into cliffs-made from a variety of materials and surrounded by a network of cobblestone streets.
A few weeks ago white snow covered those streets and the huge lake sported a sheen of ice. However, a rise in temperatures eroded both, leaving puddles on the streets, and the countryside a shade of soft muddy brown.
Based on his experiences back home, Trevor did not expect the Duass infantry to pose a challenge but he respected the capabilities of their War Skiffs. The vehicles resembled wooden, motorized boats on wheels with an energy-firing deck gun capable of melting through the toughest armor.
To take the town, Trevor marched west with a small, mobile force that he split into three groups totaling two hundred soldiers.
Major Forest commanded Combat Group One with three squads tasked to draw the garrison out and to the north. The land along the banks of the lake in that area was covered in forest and brush which would help hide her numbers and limit the Duass’ War Skiffs.
Combat Group Three included five more squads, some fast-moving armored vehicles, and five Skippers under the control of General Gronard to act as a reserve.
Trevor decided he wanted to conserve aviation fuel and air-to-surface missiles for an all-out assault on the Chaktaw main base once located. Therefore, the Skippers should remain grounded except as a last resort.
Combat Group Two, under Trevor's command, would lead the main assault with eighty men once Nina created a diversion to the north, which began on a warm but overcast March morning with her order, "Mortar teams, open up."
Explosive shells lofted from their positions inside an evergreen forest then crashed down on the outskirts of the town Trevor had designated "Erie Coast." The first volley crashed into a short perimeter wall constructed of a plaster-like, tan material that existed more for style than defense and easily shattered.
More shells hit a yard area as the shots walked closer to and then struck a two-story rectangular house made of the same material as the wall and topped with a terracotta-like roof that splintered and collapsed on impact.
A gaggle of unarmed Duass ran-or, rather, wobbled on three legs-from the structure and an alarm sounded across the villa.
– Trevor and his squad commanders remained hidden on the far side of a ridge to the east of Erie Coast. The returned Emperor lay on his belly and surveyed the town through a telescope-like device. A distant thump-thump… thump-thump drifted to his ears from Nina's bombardment.
Built on a well-planned grid, the Duass town-more like a villa-stretched a good mile and a half north to south along the shore and another half mile inland. Four north-south streets served as primary thoroughfares. Additional connecting streets and alleys made moving from one end of town to the other easy.
Along the lake stood a series of docks with bubble boathouses. The Duass maintained a small fleet of rectangular fishing vessels with most in port when the attack began.
Trevor consulted an aerial photograph and then looked to the center of town. There he saw a four-story building with battlements and guard towers holding heavy gun emplacements. Bordering this citadel were what reconnaissance suggested to be a barracks and the Duass’ version of a motor pool.
Check points covered the main approaches to the town and he spied a few Skiffs parked on the streets. As Nina's bombardment continued, more of the war vehicles appeared as did soldiers, all moving toward the northern perimeter.
"Good, good," Trevor mumbled to his officers.
The man at his side, Captain Pickering, said, "They’re taking the bait."
Trevor counted more than one hundred enemy fighters and a dozen War Skiffs through his spyglass.
"Too bad for them."
– A War Skiff rolled past a collapsed building on the northern side of town. Its big, thick wooden wheels clunked and scraped as they rumbled through the debris of the destroyed house. Duass infantry fanned out to its flanks in preparation for a counter-assault.
"Rocket teams! Forward!" Nina Forest ordered.
Two teams of two men hustled to the front of the woods with bazooka-like launchers.
Plasma spat from the gun on the War Skiff's deck. The stream of energy hit the tree tops above the attacking humans. Several big limbs fell and crushed two soldiers.
Cries of "help" and "medic’ were drown out by swooshing rockets as the anti-armor projectiles raced toward the target. The missiles hit, but at maximum range. They scratched, even splintered, the outer hull but it remained in action.
Major Forest commanded, "Damn it! Fire! Open Fire!"
Three more War Skiffs appeared from the city. Those wheeled vehicles joined the first and served as shields for three dozen enemy infantry creeping toward the human lines. At the same time, Nina saw more Duass soldiers attempting to flank her position.
– Trevor’s force faced a handful of infantry on the east side and one War Skiff blocking the primary entrance, but the perimeter wall was low enough to jump easily.
He purposely held his short-ranged artillery in check to conceal the strength of his assault. Instead, his troops moved forward with four attack buggies leading the way followed by two transports with one squad each and the rest following on foot.
The War Skiff saw them coming over the ridge. It fired and blasted the buggy next to Stone’s. It flipped and rolled knocking two of the three men onboard out of the fight.
Anti-armor rockets from the other buggies drew a bead on the Skiff and launched. Several missiles missed and slammed into the small, house-like buildings on the east side. One scored a significant hit on the Skiff’s front wheels, blasting out a chunk and changing its shape from a circle to a crescent.
Duass small arms fire joined the Skiff as well as ping-pong ball-like grenades, disabling one of the troop transports and forcing its passengers to disembark early onto the open killing ground between them and the town.
"The plan’s falling apart, sir!" Pickering, driving Trevor’s assault buggy, panicked.
"No plan survives contact with the enemy, soldier," Trevor shared a military truth. "Keep moving forward! And for God’s sake keep firing that machine gun!"
The trooper in the back of Trevor’s buggy heard the command and fired full throttle. The bullets struck a number of defenders as the vehicle moved close enough to see the dull glint in the Duass’ eyes.
A line of Duass soldiers ran out from behind the War Skiff and raised their rifles.
"Faster! Faster!" Trevor shouted. "Mow the bastards down!"
A heavy bolt of plasma flew over the buggy. The energy from the ordnance crackled as it missed their heads by two feet. Trevor and Pickering felt the heat as it passed.
"Ohhh shiittttt!"
The buggy hit the line of wobbling infantry knocking some skyward, others to the side, and a few underneath. That, in turn, destabilized the car sending its two right wheels airborne which hit the side of the War Skiff.
The assault buggy teetered at a ninety-degree angle on two wheels with the engine roaring amidst enemy bodies flying all around. The soldier in the rear fell out; Trevor felt the g-force strain his safety harness.
After skirting the Skiff, the buggy came to rest against a one-story structure thirty yards behind enemy lines, its right wheels stuck up and Trevor hanging from his safety belt.
A shield of dust kicked up by the impact blocked his vision but he heard the fire of Duass energy weapons peppering his vehicle as well as the wall it rested against. Then he heard a roar; a human battle cry. The Duass energy bolts stopped firing in his direction.
"Sir! You okay?"
Pickering stood by the buggy with a bloody gash across his forehead and the way he favored one shoulder suggested dislocation. Yet he worried first about his leader.
Stone felt his safety harness unlatch, then gravity pulled him down but Pickering's uninjured arm steadied him. Once free of the wreck, Pickering directed him to cover.
Trevor’s senses slowly rebooted. Pickering had moved him next to the crashed buggy. They were behind the War Skiff and the other Duass defenders. To their west was a passage between a line of buildings-an alley-leading to the villa's center.
"Why am I not dead?" He thought aloud.
Pickering answered by tapping his shoulder and pointing toward human infantry engaging the Duass defenders in close-quarters combat. Yes, several of his men lay dead in and around the main entrance, but the defending line had broke.
Trevor staggered to his feet and shouted, "Rally the squads and push forward!"
– Nina fired her two pistols, killing a pair of enemy soldiers at the forest rim, ending yet another half-hearted attempt to flank her force.
At the center of the battle, three Duass War Skiffs held sway over the open ground between the forest and the town. The splintered and burning remains of a fourth sent a plume of black smoke into the air and covered the battlefield in an oily odor.
"What are they waiting for?" She said but no one could hear because the constant racket of small arms fire, Skiff plasma bursts, and outgoing rockets filled the woods.
She had expected to make a hasty retreat, but the Duass appeared content to trade shots. Nonetheless, she had drawn the enemy to the northern perimeter, exactly as instructed.
– General Gronard’s voice transmitted over Trevor's radio, "Major Forest has their full attention. She’s got about sixty fighters and three Skiffs taking pot shots at her. They don’t look like they are going any where any time soon."
Trevor glanced around at his re-constituted attack force.
"Good. We’ll be at the citadel in a few minutes."
– Gun fire, plasma rounds, and anti-personnel grenades shot back and forth between the human troops in the forest and the Duass soldiers and War Skiffs at the northern perimeter.
Despite the shots blasting around her and the lethal energy beams from the War Skiffs cutting apart the forest, Nina felt pleased. She even smiled.
While the battle appeared a stalemate, that served her purpose. She merely had to keep the Duass' attention while-Nina’s smile faded.
The War Skiffs, still firing, rolled backwards, retreating toward the town. The infantry they covered did the same. In fact, the entire Duass line disengaged.
"What the..? Morris! Wilson! Move your squads forward. We can’t let them pull back!"
Nina ordered two rocket troops to her side and charged from the forest in pursuit of the larger, better-armed-but-withdrawing force. Energy from a War Skiff’s main gun hit the muddy ground in front of her. The shock wave knocked the Major skidding through the mud and singed her battle suit.
The rest of her infantry attempted to re-engage the Duass. To do so, the humans had to leave behind the cover of the woods and cross the open ground, making for easy targets. Several fell. The rest pressed on bravely, but the enemy all but ignored them.
Nina gained her senses, retrieved an anti-armor missile launcher from the dead soldier next to her, and charged at one of the War Skiffs, dodging enemy rifle fire on the way.
At twenty yards-nearly point blank range for a missile launcher-she fired. The projectile walloped the Skiff, penetrated its thick outer skin, and exploded inside the crew cabin. Smoke and horrid squeals poured out from the ruptured hull.
It made no difference. The defenders continued to pull back.
"Keep going! Keep after them!"
Like a mouse chasing a lion, the human soldiers bound across the open field and into the northern streets of Erie Coast in a vain attempt to halt the Duass’ movement as…
…Trevor’s Combat Group entered the center of town dominated by the imposing citadel in the middle of the village, guarded by one War Skiff and a handful of infantry.
"All squads!" He yelled. "Assault the citadel! Get inside and disable the guns!"
What his combat teams lacked in firepower and numbers he planned to compensate for with pure audacity. His men would bull-rush the doors, overpower the few defenders left behind, and capture the big guns before they could do much damage. Then he could turn those guns on the Plats.
One of the big cannons fired, resulting in a huge eruption that ripped open the cobblestone street, broke four of his men into little pieces, and split the last remaining assault buggy into halves.
"Keep moving!" He shouted, urging them toward the safe haven beneath the firing arc of the heavy guns. With no ground forces of consequence to stop them he could A plasma bolt sliced down the street from the north and killed a soldier three paces ahead of Trevor. He turned and, to his horror, saw a mass of Duass appear on the main thoroughfare supported by two War Skiffs, a sight that sucked the momentum from his spirited charge.
Rifle fire and heavy energy streams from the infantry and War Skiffs tore apart Trevor's right flank. Men fell one after another, screaming first in shock then from pain. At the same time, more big blasts from the tower guns, shredding the forward tip of the attack and splintering the formation into little pieces.
Adding to the confusion, he saw Nina's forces appear behind the Plat infantry, actually pursuing them. Had she somehow turned her feint into an attack? Could she be stupid enough to chase the enemy right into his flank?
The enemy's vehicles hurried to cover the approaches to the citadel, cutting off any hope of storming the fortress and leaving the attackers with no place to go other than retreat.
"Covering fire!" Trevor yelled. "We need cover to fall back!"
A soldier standing next to the new Emperor disintegrated in a flash of energy. The concussion from the shot threw Stone into the air. He hit the cobblestone-like road head-first, the world turned fuzzy and a horrid pain erupted at the top of his head.
Gronard’s voice came over the radio, "Trevor, what is your status? Trevor?"
– Forest’s soldiers pursued the retreating Duass to the center of town. At that point, the enemy formed a defensive line supported by the citadel’s big guns. Most of the troops in the Major’s first wave died and so would have the rest if the Duass did not appear more interested in obliterating Trevor's combat group first.
Nonetheless, she ordered her men to hold their positions despite being outnumbered and outgunned.
"Keep firing!" She ordered knowing that maintaining pressure from her side of the battle might be the only way to keep the Duass from completely overwhelming Trevor's group.
–
His head aching and his vision blurred, Trevor and the remains of his unit took cover around the corner of a small building and waited. He could do nothing other than wait; wait for Gronard to salvage the situation.
What the Hell was Nina thinking?
The Duass fortress’ cannons chipped away at the buildings and, at the same time, provided cover for their infantry to begin a flanking maneuver. Trevor knew this. He could feel them working through alleys and side streets. It was only a matter of time until enemy soldiers appeared to their south and north, possibly even behind them. At that point, they would be easy targets and the end would come fast.
The only hope lay with Gronard. Not a hope for victory, a hope of survival; escape.
Trevor worked his radio. He kept his voice as calm as possible considering the blaster fire raging around him, despite the feeling of failure, and despite his anger.
"Major Forest."
Static followed by, "Yes. Trevor? Yes, this is Nina."
"Prepare for extraction. Start falling back to the north and meet ground transport there."
"If we pull back they’ll be all over you!"
"Do it! Follow your damn orders for the first fucking time today! Fall back. NOW!"
He threw his radio to the ground. A moment later Skippers flew in over the skyline.
Immediately the Duass targeted the ships. Their plasma rifles could only scar the hulls of the flyers, but the fortress guns could do much more. The first AATC in the air space over down town exploded as one of the guns scored a direct hit. The bodies of the pilots plummeted to the ground in flames while hot fuel sprayed over a squad of human troops in the street.
Two Skippers fired on the citadel. Their missiles knocked out one of the guns, buying a little more time for two more AATCs to land on streets shielded from the direct fire of the Citadel’s weapons. They filled up fast with injured then flew away jut as a War Skiff moved to intercede.
Another Skipper swooped in and launched an anti-armor missile that disabled the enemy vehicle in one shot.
That airship then landed and loaded to two squads into its belly for a quick retreat. But as it took to the air, the Skipper's starboard jump jet exploded from a Duass grenade. The ship listed, spun, and then slammed into a building. Smoke, dust, and flames burst from the impact zone. The massive rotor of the bird flew off and broke into pieces against another building.
Any soldiers who survived the crash did not survive for long: Duass infantry assaulted the wreckage.
"Mother-"
Trevor did not have time to get to the second half of that compound word as he was interrupted by enemy fire. The Plats came charging around a corner on his flank.
Just in time, Gronard came to the rescue.
Two armored vehicles blasted through the Duass infantry and wheeled to a halt at Trevor’s position. Two more of Stone’s men fell as they boarded their escape vehicle but they did escape, with War Skiffs chasing them out of the town like hounds on the heels of a fox.
On the north side, transport trucks met Major Forest's remaining soldiers who withdrew under air cover from the remaining Skippers.
Plumes of smoke from burning vehicles-both human and Duass-drifted into the air from the village, but "Erie Coast" still belonged to the Duass.
– The ground vehicles and AATCs regrouped in a field ten miles east. The armored cars formed a perimeter and the air craft landed in the middle. Medics turned one of the Skipper’s cargo bays into a triage center to stabilize patients before the long trek home.
Trevor met with Gronard and several squad leaders inside a hastily constructed tent. They opened a folding table and examined maps. They agreed that, despite the pasting they had taken, the Duass were in no position to pursue.
Major Forest entered the tent.
"Trevor? Oh, thank God you’re okay."
Stone stormed over to her. "What were you doing? YOU HAD ORDERS! I told you to demonstrate on their northern flank not fucking drive them right at us!"
She not only flinched, she outright cowered, her hands raised as if to ward off blows. Her shoulders hunched over and her face cringing in anticipation of a strike.
"Trevor, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. They disengaged…they pulled out…we chased them. I thought we could-"
"You don’t think. You hear me? You don’t think. I do the thinking. You do what I tell you to do so things don’t get all fucked up."
He huffed and puffed but said no more.
After a moment, Major Nina Forest straightened her stance but kept her head bowed.
General Gronard finally asked, "What now?"
"What now? What now? We head for home, now, General. With our tails- my tail — between our fucking legs."