Soul at War (10 page)

"Glad to see the optimist shining
through, Walker," Green retorted, booting the solid concrete blocks
that made up the five-foot high wall on either side of the walkway.
"With all this stone, you'd think we were pretty safe in
here."

"Wait until that dead ground out there
is teeming with cannons and plasma shells. Then we'll see how long
these walls last," Replied Walker, peering over the edge. Green
shoved him and he gasped, grabbing onto the lip. "You idiot!" He
cried, but Phillips pounced.

"Shut the hell up back there or I'll
throw you over myself."

"Listen up people," Burns shouted. "I
want Walker, Green and Wulfgar on weapons detail. I want MPMG's
every fifty metres, two rocket launchers per ten and grenades in
bags at each rampart. Anything that burns or explodes, I want it on
these walls. Brand, you're on an ammo hunt. Then carry out
anti-artillery drills because that's what I want you targeting. I
want the ten best nests you can come up with and easy access
between them at a seconds notice. You'll be deployed to where the
fighting is worst via digi-com."

"Yes sir," they all replied in
unison.

"Report back to the briefing room at
twenty-two hundred hours. Dismissed." Once they'd gone, Burns
looked at me and sighed. "Well, Lieutenant. What do you
think?"

"I wish we could be sure that ship was
coming.” I said.

"Hell, me too. I also know that Earth
is being fed a long line of bullshit. They probably think that the
Zion group is tickety-boo and have turned their entire force
around. Lieutenant we've been sold down the river."

"The Avalon?" He just
shrugged.

"What can I say? We can't trust the
relays; we can't trust they're not being intercepted. We're cut
off. ARC has got this whole system sown up and here we are - right
in the middle of it."

"What's the weapon
situation?"

"There isn't one," said Phillips.
"Shotguns and short range rifles. Some close combat weapons, knives
and other such equipment. This is a post-frontier fort designed to
house a handful of civilian God-botherers. We're lucky they still
had working machine guns and a handful of explosives.”

"But if we're to defend this place
indefinitely, we're going to need some more weapons."

"And they are coming from where?" I
looked out across the fields, the dense forestry, and the tall
trees. A man could get lost in there.

"From ARC of course."

Tekoa came running up the outer
rampart and arrived in front of Burns, clicking heels as he
stopped.

"I have finished my assessment, sir."
He handed the note pad to Phillips.

"I've got a job for you, Tekoa. One
that fits your talents wonderfully," Burns said with a sly
grin.

"The acquisition of enemy weapons,
sir?" Burns frowned.

"What makes you think
that?"

"Well, it seemed like a logical step,
sir. We have no weapons, they do. I'm sure they would be glad to be
relieved of a few. Sir."

"As you were, Private. As you
were."

*

Night time came swiftly but the city
of Dothon was restless. In an emergency Church meeting, Eric Titus
had explained to the people the danger we now faced and asked for
prayer and steadfast faith in deliverance. He also, reluctantly,
called for volunteers.

"If any man here feels moved to stand
at the wall, do so now. I ask this not as a preacher, not as your
leader, but as a brother. The decision to bear arms, to take
another man's life is not one to be taken lightly. It goes against
all we know, all we believe. The Lord Jesus Christ came to us to
preach peace. We all know who ARC is; we know their goals and their
motives. We know without a doubt they are the enemies of our Lord.
But the facts are clear - diplomacy and negotiations have failed,
they fall on deaf ears. I cannot make this decision for you, nor
can I find the words to guide you. I can only suggest that you
consult your hearts and pray. Pray for us all."

I took the first patrol of the east
wall. The night air promised rain, but gave only a few drops here
and there as I walked from one rampart to another. At each of the
two-man firing posts, chilled volunteers and green-faced troopers
waited nervously for the klaxon, the harbinger of war. The silence
didn't help much and only added to the tension.

I walked past Green who was talking to
one of the volunteers, a pasty-faced youth with a mop of blond hair
and the legs of a runner. They nodded as I stopped, overlooking the
wall.

"Evenin' Lieutenant," said
Green.

"How goes it?" I asked. The volunteer
looked up from the ammunition he was holding and tried to grin, but
his nerves were out of control. "Easy brother, they aren't at the
gates yet," I said to him and he managed a smile.

"Who's on lookout? Who's got the
finger on the bell?" Green asked.

"Wulfgar, he's up in the spire with a
portable transmitter. Walker's up there too, he'll take over on the
shift change."

I nodded once more and moved on to the
next post, two troopers from the Commander's security detail who
waved when they saw me.

"Good evening, sir," they said in
unison.

"How goes it?" I asked.

"Could do with a drop of the foaming
ale, sir. Other than that, we're doing just fine."

"Hell, the drinks will be on me once
we get out of this mess. Ale and communion wine on Frakes." They
laughed a little. "In the mean time...” I dug into a pocket on my
rig and handed them a small red sweet that when eaten gave a
feeling of warmth like liquor - used a lot by hikers in extreme
cold. "Might keep some of the cold off."

"Thanks, Lieutenant."

"No problem, catch you later in the
mess eh?" Then I carried on to the end of my section of wall and
saw Phillips coming the other way, him reaching the end of
his.

"Evening Sergeant."

"Lieutenant."

"Any news from Tekoa, Sergeant?" I
asked before he shot off at double time.

"I doubt he would contact us before
morning, Lieutenant." Then he disappeared back down the south wall,
barking remarks to the volunteers stationed at the firing posts. No
doubt he was angry at the use of volunteers and felt the need to
express this at every opportunity. Looking at my watch I had three
more hours before shift change and I was ready for that bed.
Resolved, I popped one of the sweets in my mouth and began walking
back the way I'd come.

*

As the shift began to change and
tired, weary men began to drag their feet to the billets, the sun
was starting its slow rise on the horizon. It was much colder now
than it had been during the night and I rubbed my hands together as
Green began to climb down the ladder to ground level.

"I'll be glad of that pillow," he
said, boots clinking on the rungs. "Who's taking over?"

"Who cares?"

"What time are we back on?" he asked,
reaching the bottom.

"Ten-hundred," I shouted down. I
walked back down the wall to make sure my shift had changed and had
been replaced with fresh troops, reached one of the ramparts and
stepped up to the look out post. Across the clear fields was the
forest, dark and foreboding. It would hinder movements of any
vehicles; make them more visible as they trampled down the trees.
Troops could get in though, hiding in the scrub - waiting, but I
put faith in the infrared sight of Brand and her keen eye to spot
them.

"Lieutenant Shap?" said a voice from
behind. Coming towards me was my counter-part in a clean pressed
uniform of dull gray. When he got close enough I realised who it
was.

"Titus?" The outfit hung loose on his
thinning frame, but he didn't seem out of place in it. "What are
you doing here?"

"Well so many of my congregation have
taken up the fight it seemed only fair that I meet their level of
commitment." He looked down at his uniform. "I was once a Captain
in the Navy, but I was a bigger man back then," he
laughed.

"Did you ever get a
commission?"

"For eight years I was the Captain of
the Iliad, a fine vessel." His mind wandered into reverie. "I've
seen many a conflict - both physically and spiritually. Thank-fully
all I Captain now is my congregation."

"Well I will leave you to your men,
Captain. Good day." I turned and walked away, descended the ladder
and took a deep breath at the bottom. I'd known the Iliad during
the battle of Turth when I'd first signed up; it was a legend
amongst the troops - for all the wrong reasons. In the third year
of the conflict the planet of Turth Primary had been overrun by the
enemy leaving a small group of civilians and troops defending the
last jetport. After several days the Iliad eventually arrived to
rescue them, but when the survivors used a captured vessel to
escape the planet, an arrogant Captain blasted it out of the sky.
Blaming the heroic survivors for not identifying themselves in
correct protocol, the Captain had evaded a court marshal. It had
left the ground troops very wary of the Navy and morale had been
severely affected. Like so many before, perhaps Titus had turned to
Zion to escape the guilt, or come face to face with it and repent.
I had a feeling only time would provide the answer to that
one.

*

I woke from a peaceful slumber to a
screaming siren and nearly fell from my bunk. All around troops
dived into their boots, slung weapons and ran for the door, some
charging into each other in the chaos. I jumped down and pulled the
straps tight on my boots, grabbed my rig and shotgun and
followed.

"What's going on?" I shouted as we hit
daylight. One of the security staff on the wall was waving to
someone, directing their view to the west but the low sun obscured
him.

"An incoming vessel, westerly flight
plan. Radar picked it up early," said someone who melted into the
throng. I found the nearest ladder and began to scale the wall. At
the top was Phillips who directed people this way and
that.

"Do we have any details?" I asked and
followed him to the third rampart. I could already see the
Lieutenant with a set of binos, scanning the tree line.

"A small cargo vessel on a direct
course, several larger craft in tow," he replied.

"Is it Tekoa?" We reached Burns who
was accompanied by Commander Frakes.

"If it is, he's taking one
hell of a risk." In my short time knowing him that was exactly his
style.
Phillips put a finger to his ear, his digi-com unit
spitting out noise.

"Lieutenant, he's signalling. One word...” Phillips listened
again, asking it to be repeated. "Trojan." Burns cursed and passed
the binos to Frakes.

"Order
the pad to be activated and ready the men. This is going to be
messy."

"Lieutenant, what does that mean?" Frakes said, but Burns was
already out on the wall and began pulling every third man from the
fire posts sending them down the ladder.

"Phillips, get me a link to Wulfgar and Brand. Shap, take a
team to the landing pad and get ready to off load the weapons as
soon as he touches down."

"Lieutenant Burns, I demand to know what is happening!"
Frakes spat like an upset toddler.

"Commander, my man is flying in a ship loaded with weapons.
Behind him is a fleet of ships to stop him. If one of those ships
realises how little we are defended and reports back, we're
finished. Right now the ARC forces have a good reason not to storm
this place, they think there's a chance it's been reinforced by
large numbers of troops. As they fly past they'll scan the city,
realise we're bluffing and this afternoon they'll hit us with
everything they've got. We must keep the advantage if we're to
stand a chance of surviving."

"Sir,"
interrupted Phillips. "Wulfgar and Brand on channel
three."

"So what
do you intend to do?" asked Frakes.

"Destroy
them all."

Tekoa
came in hard. From my view on the landing gantry I could see he
wasn't going to hit the brakes until the last possible minute and I
ordered the six men behind me to pull back into the control room in
case he failed. I began to twitch as the slick black craft banked
upwards, grav pads moaning at the strain they were being put under,
arcs of electricity striking out at nearby steel work. As it hit
the magnetic grapples he dropped the power and the ship ground to a
halt on the pad.

"Forward!" I yelled and sprinted down the gantry, cocking the
shotgun. Already the hatch was springing open and I saw someone
moving in the darkness. I dropped to my knee and raised my weapon.
"Identify!" I shouted.

"Do you
still fear the Greeks when they bring you gifts?" Tekoa emerged
from the hatch and threw out the first box. I sent two troops
forward into the ship but held the rest back until they'd cleared
it. When they emerged I ordered weapons to be slung and began
loading a floating trolley with the gear.

"You
took your time," I said, laughing.