In my short dealings with the Dakar I came away with the feeling that they could only be trusted so far. They had their own ambitions and as such viewed our cooperation as a convenience if nothing else. When the Torrians were no longer a threat I had no doubt that the Dakar soon would be. They were devout expansionists and their desires to control the galaxy were subtle, but still obvious.
Feta Lunge soon landed and I was taken aboard the Paswari. The little gray robot Passi was there to greet me. "This way Mr. Grange, Mr. Lunge awaits your company." Lunge was busily typing at a keyboard when I entered the bridge. I was encouraged to see that the chair that had been constructed for me still remained.
I sat in the chair and awaited conversation from Lunge. He remained working at the keyboard before acknowledging my presence through word only. "Mr. Grange. You have caused me great concern with your request. My fate has been inevitably tied to yours and your people’s performance once any cooperative actions get underway."
"If you do not live up to a minimum of standards then I too will be viewed as having brought shame upon the Expansion. I would prefer that my fate be tied to my actions, but you have seen to it that it is also tied to yours." Feta Lunge then slowly spun around in his chair, "I will do what I can to see that you are successful Mr. Grange. It is in my own best interest."
During the ride back, Feta opened up about his life as a Dakari captain. It was a lonely life with much of the time spent in desolate places or on patrol around remote systems. If there were multiple ships involved in a patrol they were required to maintain radio silence except under extreme circumstances. He would make it into port once or twice a year, but only for a day or two at a time. As a member of the Dakari Star Service he would be in isolation for a 40 year term.
In his 12 years as a DSS captain Feta had only fired his weapons twice. Once when attacked by a pirate vessel and once when he had taken control of the Hammer and the Swift. There had been a number of recent confrontations with the Milgari, but none had risen to the level of weapons fire. That time however, was coming.
When we arrived in the Mensa sector I had him drop me on Omrin. I had no desire to give away the location of our world to a species that could not yet be trusted. From Omrin I said goodbye to Feta, purchased a small flyer and headed back to the Supressor. When I arrived there were many "Congratulations on your surviving" greetings given by my many friends.
During my absence the Colonel took the Slaughter, Slayer and Sleuth out hunting along with 26 Raiders. The Milgari supply lines were in shambles with another eight freighters captured. The opulent lifestyles of the Torrians were starting to see shortages of some products. The Colonel and his men returned without any casualties and the minimal ship damage received had been repaired in space.
Davis had managed to make contact with several Teldaki slaves on Torrus through their kin who were now Ground Assault Marines with our forces. Lives had been placed at risk to provide us with data on the Torrians. The inconveniences caused by supply shortages were intolerable to the royal families. Slaves were punished if for nothing else other than to relieve frustration. I struggled with the thought of our actions causing hardships for the Teldaki slaves, but such were the struggles of war. Not until the war was over could you control the actions of others.
Frig’s time during my absence was spent on researching the wormhole technology from the derelict ship. From bits of information stored in the derelict’s computer files he had been able to piece together a partial picture of the physical mechanism that was used to generate the bend in space-time. "Sir, it seems the ship used the powerful array of antennae to generate an immense RF signal."
"Somehow they were able to focus that energy down to a point. At a subatomic level the fabric of space-time was punched through to another point elsewhere. That point is evidently programmable using the different signal frequencies involved. Once a wormhole is opened only a moderate amount of power is required to keep it in that state. The wormhole itself has a limited life, something to do with the decay ratio of the atoms involved. It is quite difficult to piece this information together when so much of it is missing."
I replied, "So, how close are we to reproducing this effect?" Frig shook his head, "We are not close at all Sir. We do not have information on the frequencies used and we do not have information regarding how those antenna signals were focused down to a point. We have video from the Swift that I am using to reconstruct the arrays, albeit in a much smaller form. Once complete I am hoping to conduct testing, but as I stated, we are not close to a solution at this time."
I next made my way to see George and to check on the progress of reproducing the Torrian drug being used to control the Milgari. Several compounds had been created in an attempt to block the effects of the drug; none had been successful during the trials on the Milgari captives that we held. George wondered if we were dealing with an altered DNA, a problem for which there would be no easy cure.
With my morning tasks out of the way I called the Colonel into my office to plan for our ground assault on Mortel. Our converted Milgari cruisers and frigates would perform clumsily in the thick atmosphere of Mortel. The initial assault from the air would be done with our Raiders followed closely behind with boots on the ground. Four assault transports and their shuttles would be parked in low orbit and the Teldaki Marines would be deployed.
I would be riding aboard the Helix with the Swift being in her cargo hold. When the ground assault came to a conclusion I would then take the Swift out to meet with the designated Dakar officer. I had seen to it that the officer in question would be Feta Lunge.
We arrived on the outskirts of the Mortel system with three troop transports carrying 55,000 ground assault troops, 22 Raiders along with their 880 Marines and four Defenders. Contact with the Dakar was made and an attack time coordinated. The Milgari had 4 cruisers, 7 destroyers and 12 frigates parked in orbit around Mortel. They were not in a good state of readiness.
When the time came it was complete chaos for the Milgari. I was riding with Jarrod in the Helix as the attack began. "Fletcher! Target those towers and let’s take this compound down! Scans show 8,312 Milgari down there with various vehicles and weapons. That square building to the left should be the armory, target it next!"
The Helix swooped down from the skies. Light ion fire could be seen impacting our hull. The Tantric armor along with the ion dissipaters easily handled the small weapons fire. The four guard towers surrounding the garrison were quickly vaporized. The Helix swooped outward, performed an inverted roll and came back towards the armory building. In a flash the building exploded with a bright fury.
The Helix set down just outside the compound and the 40 Marines on-board piled out. "Bagwell! Take left flank. I want those barracks cleaned out! Rollins! Bring your team with me. We are hitting that storehouse to the right followed up by the officer’s quarters. Check you conventionals as that ion bomb should go off in three… two… one…" A bright yet brief flash suppressed any ion activity in the area.
As the action began I stood and turned to Jarrod, "I’m going out there. Those men need…" Jarrod grabbed my arm, "Ho there Chief, you just sit your butt back down here. Timmons and his men do not need your support. What they need is for you to sit tight and then meet up with your Dakar counterpart when this is all done. Sorry Sir, but you will be sitting this one out!"
Jarrod would not release my arm. Despite my larger frame and younger body his grip was like a steel vice. I was soon sitting in my chair switching between various views of the ongoing battles. I tuned into Timmons’ channel, "Blow that door and follow up with a couple nades! Scan is showing eight Milgari in there. As officers, they will be the thinkers, makes them the most deadly while we are running conventional. When that second nade blows, let’s hit that door running!"
Timmons’ video feed momentarily shook as the two grenades exploded within the officer’s quarters. Eight Marines rushed in and gunfire was immediately evident.
Ak-ak-ak-ak-ak-ak! Ak-ak! Ak-ak!
The quarters were quickly cleared of any threat. I sat gripping the arms of my chair as the action passed me by.
Jarrod then spoke, "It is tough isn’t it Sir, sitting back and watching while the others charge in. When I first converted to being a pilot I thought I would be on top of the world. Sitting in comfort, having the ability to flip through all the screens of action on my display as they were happening, heck I can even rewind and watch any aspect of it I want for a second time! But there is no substitute for the thrill of boots on the ground."
"I did some hard action back in the last war. My unit charged more than a dozen ships back then and blasters were all that was used. When the fight was over you would come back without half of your team and with their blood and guts soaking the outside of your battle suit. But there is nothing like that feeling that comes from victory when you feel that victory was partially earned by you. It’s an adrenaline addiction."
I sat back in my chair and sighed, "It’s an addiction alright. To me there is almost nothing worse than sitting around watching while others risk their lives. It just doesn’t sit right with me. I want to be right in the mix, right where I can make a difference." Jarrod looked at me silently for several seconds, "That’s what separates you from most leaders Don. You are willing to get in there and fight side by side with these men, no matter the odds."
"Anyone can sit back and bark orders from a console. If you studied our history, you would see that happen time and again. Take Colonel Hammond from the 22nd war or Mouser from the 8th. They are regarded as great leaders, not because they died fighting for the Grid, but because they spent a lot of their time on the front lines. And don’t think the men don’t see that. Heck, look at the organization you have put together here. Everyone respects you because you are willing to give it your all. And when that will, that determination and that attitude happens at the top, great things can happen!"
The ground assault of the garrison lasted for nearly an hour. Twelve Teldaki prisoners were freed from the small prison block within the compound. They were half starved and had been severely beaten. The medical bay of the Helix was put into service to offer immediate care. The 12 would make it, but their minds and bodies would show the scars of their captivity for the rest of their lives.
Our 40 Marines had taken out a compound of 300 Milgari. With our weapons advantage it was not a fair fight. The Helix lifted off towards our next target. It was a complex of buildings sitting on top of an Emerald mine shaft. The buildings would have to be cleared before the miners could be liberated from the below.
When the Helix set down, I jumped from my chair before Jarrod could lay hold to my arm. I was going in, "Sorry Jarrod, but I need to be in there mixing it up. I’ll follow Timmons and try to stay out of trouble, but I can’t promise anything. The sooner we get all these mines cleared the sooner this is over."
"There are over 1,500 mines on this planet and until they are all cleaned out I can’t meet with the Dakar. We need to be thorough and complete as impression to them means everything. If we want the Dakar to fight beside us against the Milgari and Torrians we have to show them how good we are!"
I turned and hurried down the hall to my quarters. I pulled a case from under my bunk and opened it to reveal the AK-47 that lay within. Jeb had seen to it that the wooden stock had an engraving burned into it. "Point other end and pull trigger!" It was an instruction that I was not in need of, but the sarcastic humor that it suggested always made me smile.
I joined Timmons’ squad when I hit the ground. "We have 16 buildings to clear! Rollins! This time take your squad to designate one, I’ll be with Bagwell in designate four. If resistance gets heavy then by all means pull back and re-evaluate. Time is a factor, but it is not critical. I want everyone coming back alive. Now keep your asses down and clear every space where one of those tri-heads could be hiding, we don’t want any ambushes!"
The negative ion bomb detonated and the green indicators on our helmet displays gave the go ahead. Before reaching the first building three Milgari soldiers appeared. They charged at Rollin’s squad with long poles and pipes.
Ak-ak-ak! Ak-ak-ak! Ak-ak-ak!
The attackers fell silent before reaching their goal. The squad of Defiant Marines moved quickly into building one.
I followed Bagwell and Timmons into the building that was designated as number four. It was a storehouse with a number of closed offices up front followed by row after row of shelving in the back. The shelves stretched up five meters and held crates of equipment that were used in the mines. With the loss of lighting the windowless storehouse would be difficult to clear. The first office told of what was to come.
Bagwell spoke in a low voice, "Fitch, Harper, Yong, clear the office on the left. We will secure this hall and work the rooms to the right." I followed Crispen and Lewis down the hall to the second door. It was opened slowly; Crispen stepped in, "Looks clear, but what is that aweful stench? Smells like a sewage backup in here!"
As the other two proceeded to the next room I looked at the desk in the room suspiciously. A bad smell usually came with a Milgari close by. I slowly moved over to the edge of the desk with my AK aimed at the front.
Ak-ak-ak-ak-ak!
I popped five rounds through the steel front and awaited the sound of a hidden Milgari slumping to the floor, there was nothing but silence.
Crispen and Lewis were quickly behind me. Lewis moved slowly behind the desk and looked under. "Sir! You killed it! Lucky you came with us or that desk could have snuck up on us. Hahahaha!" I was embarrassed, but I reasoned that it was better to have a dead desk than to allow a single Milgari to get behind us. My team members held their grins as we made our way into the next room.
Again the room reeked of Milgari and again Crispen and Lewis moved forward. I looked at the desk in the room suspiciously. I stepped forward and kicked the steel front panel. Nothing happened. As I began to turn away I could hear movement. A Milgari officer rolled out from under the desk and pulled his arm back as if to strike me.
Ak-ak-ak!
A machete dropped from his raised hand and his body fell to the floor with a thud. Crispen and Lewis returned, but their grins were gone.
"Should have killed that desk too Sir." I then turned towards a tall cabinet on the back wall.
Ak-ak!
Two 7.62mm holes were punched into the steel cabinet. Again nothing happened. Lewis then spoke, "You sure are tough on the furniture Sir. And that chair looks a bit suspicious if you ask me!"
Ak!
Stuffing flew into the air as the small hole in the front turned large coming out the back.
Timmons stuck his head in the door, "What’s going on in here? If you are wasting ammo be prepared to be written up. We have rooms to clear so get moving!" The grins were soon gone as we reached the next room. Twenty minutes later the offices were clear.
Our next move was into the storehouse itself. The high steel racks of boxes and equipment together with the hundreds of crates on the floor would make for a slow effort of ridding the storehouse of possible Milgari. We moved slowly, opening every crate and exposing every potential hiding place. After a half an hour of sweep it was determined that the storehouse was free of Milgari. Our sites were then turned towards building six.
The capture of mine #122 went off without a hitch. Nine Milgari troops were eliminated and 1,566 Teldaki miners were freed. The bigger story was the 55,000 Teldaki ground assault troops that had been deployed at other sites. They had performed flawlessly, not losing a single man. Eight thousand Milgari were annihilated as more than 160,000 Teldaki miners were freed. The complete capture of Mortel had taken only 22 hours.
I looked on at a crowd of Teldaki miners who were in the initial stages of celebration. Their recovery would be a struggle. They hadn’t known freedom for ten years. I still worried for that freedom as the Dakar would be taking over their welfare. I wondered just how benevolent the Dakar would be. The Emerald wealth of the Teldakis would not be their own.
The war in the heavens above Mortel lasted for two days. The overwhelming force of the Dakar fleet struggled against the Milgari and their newly superior weapons. Nearly 100 Dakari Expansion combat craft had been lost to the 23 Milgari ships. Our new allies were weak, but they made up for it in numbers.
Frig and I boarded the Swift and exited from the cargo hold of the Helix. We were soon landing in the docking bay of the Paswari for a meeting with Feta Lunge. Frig stayed in the Swift as I joined Feta on his bridge. "Welcome back Mr. Grange. It seems our venture here may lead to better things. I have been given the authority to offer cooperation on another project. If that too goes well there will be talks of expanding the relationship."
I sat in my custom made chair and spoke, "If we accept this next project I would hope that we again keep our forces separate. Until such time as a high level of trust has been built up between our peoples I think it best that we minimize any chance of the scourge that is friendly fire."
"As I am sure your leaders are aware, friendly fire is a consequence of any war. Even amongst long term alliances it can be a difficult reality when the forces of one ally mistakenly kill those of another. If the proposed plan includes this continued separation we would likely be aboard for another project."
Feta replied, "This concept of friendly fire as you call it is interesting. I have always wondered how many of our own we kill when in battle. It is never spoken of and our leaders just assume it to be a consequence of war. It is certainly not desired, but at the same time, nothing is done to prevent it. You Humans have some interesting concepts when it comes to the individual. I wonder if those are a benefit or a burden."
I shook my head, "You are an individual Feta, you are not your mother or your father, you are not your cousin or your friend or some stranger from another planet; you are you. You are unique to this galaxy and as such you should want to be treated as unique. You can do things that many others can do, but only you can do them here and now."
Feta leaned back in his chair and rubbed his chin, "Curious. From birth we are committed to the Dakar people. We are pushed to do what we can for the betterment of all. What happens in practice is often something different. A politician is afforded great respect and allowed to accumulate great wealth while the commoner is not. It is a way that has always been. Your lot in life is given as a reward for your duty to others."
"I struggle to comprehend how your people can accomplish so much when you value the individual over everything else. We are taught from a young age to be selfless and to accept that which is given to us by our community leaders. If I were to decide that being on the Paswari was not what I wanted to do then who would be on the Paswari? Who would be out here defending our people?"
I sat staring at Feta for several seconds, "In an ideal world that selfless behavior would be looked upon as something to aspire to. To be in the service of others, there is no finer profession. But in the real world there are always those who take advantage."
"You mentioned your politicians and their wealth. I would guess that your politicians are made up of families that came from politicians. I would guess that commoners do not rise to become politicians and that politicians live a life a luxury beyond what many of your commoners could even dream of. We call these people dictators or a ruling class."
"The decisions they make are meant to preserve their standing, power and wealth, not to better the lives of their people. If the lives of the commoner are maintained at an acceptable level these ruling parties will continue to enrich themselves without threat of overthrow."