They didn’t have much time. It wouldn’t take the enemy ships in orbit long to get into position, so they had to move fast. Dumping anything they didn’t absolutely need for the coming fight substantially lightened their load, but they knew they were all running on fumes. If the enemy didn’t suspect they were coming, if they had let their guard down in anticipation of their ships blasting them from space, then they still had a chance. A slim one, but still a chance. If they suspected they were coming, however, they wouldn’t get within half a kilometer before they cut them down. Surprise was everything, and the key to achieving it lay in the route they selected, with three options to choose from.
Option 1: The Direct Approach. It was by far the shortest avenue, no minor consideration given how fatigued they were, but it was rocky and uneven ground, with little cover. The ankle-breaking terrain would slow them to a crawl, and without suitable cover the enemy would easily pick them off.
Option 2: The Left Hook. This option had fairly flat terrain and decent cover, making it at first blush as the best alternative. But it was also by far the longest route, since it required them to swing wide of the enemy camp, circling around their flank and attacking from the rear. The question quickly became whether they had the energy to make such a long forced march, and even if they did, the time required would put them deep in the danger zone for orbital bombardment.
And finally, Option 3: The Crevice. The fissure in question was a narrow gap in the rock, a fault opened up by plate tectonics, and would take them almost all the way to the enemy encampment. In its favor it had excellent concealment, but it was also by far the most dangerous choice. It was so narrow they could only travel two abreast, which would string out their assault force over a kilometer. If it rained, the danger of flash floods went up considerably, drowning the entire battalion before they ever got near the enemy. But worst of all, if even a single enemy observer was hidden anywhere along the gorge, they could easily call for reinforcements, ambushing and wiping out the entire unit before they realized what was happening. Only a madman would choose the Crevice.
A lunatic, or someone with nothing else to lose.
They topped off their canteens, carrying with them enough ammunition for ten minutes of combat and jettisoning the rest. Any more, and they’d be too weighted down to move quickly. With a spot of luck, it would be enough to get them through the perimeter.
If it wasn’t, then all the ammo in the universe wouldn’t make a bit of difference.
They started running… well, jogging, really… to the entrance of the crevice. Once inside, the high cliffs would help conceal them from the air for a few precious minutes. Hopefully, that would be enough. Forcing their way through the gap in the rock slowed their advance, but now that they were committed, they didn’t dare stop. The narrow canyon twisted and turned its way through the surface, adding precious time to their already razor-thin schedule, but still they pressed on, with nervous eyes scanning the cliff walls for enemy scouts.
Rúna was now long past caring. The plan was mad, the entire operation was mad, she was mad; they were all mad. The lunatics had taken over the asylum, and it was liberating. The pain she felt no longer mattered, in fact she cheerfully embraced it, crushing it to her breast like a lover, honing it, sharpening it, using her pain. It was glorious agony, and she longed to share it with those who opposed them.
A small part of her psyche realized just how far around the bend she was, but that no longer mattered. Sanity was for the living. They were creatures of the night, the walking undead, cursed by ancient gods to fight for their amusement until they had killed enough of their enemies to gain entrance to Valhalla, that magical land where the mead always flowed, and each new day brought more glorious battle. Where the party never stopped, and the killing went on and on and on and on and on and on…
She shook her head like a dog, jolting herself out of that deadly siren’s song, struggling to claw her way back from the precipice. There would be a time for berserkers, but not yet. Now she needed her wits about her, the cool sangfroid of the assassin. Let them get close first, close enough to reach out and touch the enemy, and then she could give full rein to her bloodlust, bathing herself in their ichor as she harvested her hellish honor guard.
... what I wouldn’t give for four hours uninterrupted sleep, her mind whispered. Even two hours.
Or just one. One hour of sleep. Is that so much to ask?
She pushed that thought away as well. There was only one kind of sleep waiting for her, and she’d find it soon enough.
Glancing up the canyon, she spotted Kai staring back at her. His cheeks were sunken and hollow, his eyes shot through with red, his flesh gray like spoiled meat. He looked like a corpse… but then, they all did. She could see the worry in his eyes, the remorse, the acceptance. Most of all, she saw the love he had for her. Rúna wondered what he saw, if her expression mirrored his own. She hoped it did. Their eyes met for an instant, and then it was gone as he faced forward once more, forging ahead.
She zoned out again, only coming back from Never-Never Land when she realized the ground was now sloping upward under her feet. They were getting close then, and no one was shooting at them. Yet. Still too early to get excited. They were probably just waiting until they formed back up so they could ambush them all at once. In ranks of two they emerged from the crevice, stumbling forward into a shallow depression as they waited for the others to emerge. Grabbing Becca, the pair moved forward, slithering on their bellies until they could peer over the lip and observe the enemy encampment.
No movement.
They stared at each other, unsure of what they were seeing. A trap of some sort? Had they abandoned the position? Dialing up the magnification on her helmet’s visor, she looked closer, searching for any sign of the enemy’s intentions.
There.
It was a brief gesture, a flinch perhaps, but it was enough to grab her attention. It had come from inside what looked like an observation post, well-positioned, only a few hundred meters away. Cranking the zoom to maximum despite the inherent degradation, she peered into the small porthole… in time to see the guard’s head loll.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
What the…?
Sweeping up and down the perimeter, she located another lookout, and saw what appeared to be long hair being blown about by the gentle sea breeze, but that was the only movement she saw. It was almost as if…
Something clicked in her head as she tapped Becca on the shoulder. “Stay here and keep eyes on,” she whispered, earning a nod in return, before slithering back the way she’d come. She scurried back to where Kai was waiting with the others.
“We’ve got to move. Now,” she hissed.
“We’re waiting on the stragglers,” he told her. “Command says another twenty minutes.”
“There’s no time!” Rúna said in a rush. “We’ve got to make our move now, before it’s too late!”
He stared at her, confused. “What’s the rush?” he asked.
She shook her head, frustrated. “We can’t wait, I have to jump the chain,” she warned him, as she switched frequencies. He reached out to stop her, but she moved out of his reach while she made the call.
“Warlord Six Actual, this is Dagger One-One Bravo, I have Flash Priority traffic, over!” she all but shouted into her mic.
There were about half a dozen links in the command chain between her and the colonel, and she’d just skipped past all of them. That wasn’t done. Period. It especially wasn’t done by claiming to have a Flash Priority message, the highest of all priorities. It was like screaming “Fire!” in a crowded theater; you only did so at your peril.
Unless, of course, there actually was a fire.
“Dagger One-One Bravo, this is Warlord Six Actual, go for traffic, over,” he responded almost immediately. At least she’d gotten his attention.
“Warlord Six, we have to attack now!” she squawked. “Forget the stragglers, grab what we have, and go!”
Kai’s eyes widened in horror as he lunged for her, desperate to stop her from making a huge mistake, but she pirouetted out of range once more.
“Dagger One-One Bravo, what’s the meaning of this?” he demanded. “I don’t have time…”
“Persistence predation!” she screamed at him, interrupting his message, another huge no-no. Well, in for a credit. “Don’t you understand? If we’re at the ragged edge where do you think they are?”
There was a long pause. “Dagger One-One Bravo… are you sure?” he asked carefully.
Rúna swallowed. If she were wrong… well, they wouldn’t really be any worse off, come to think about it. Dead was dead, after all.
But she was certain she was right.
“Yes sir,” she answered softly. “I’m as certain as I can be.”
Another long pause. “Stand by, Dagger One-One Bravo,” he said finally, clicking off the frequency.
“Are you insane?” Kai growled at her. “Do you know what you’ve just done?”
She held up her hand, telling him to hold on, as she waited for the colonel’s response.
The galaxy was filled with many intelligences, from every type of evolutionary track imaginable. Most were omnivores, like Terrans, while others were pure carnivores. A few herbivores could be found, though they were rare. Rarer still were the ones that defied classification, like the Oivu. Among the predators, they had evolved from vastly different worlds, facing different challenges. Some had developed speed to chase down their meals, while others had specialized in patience, becoming ambush predators. Some had used venom to take down their prey or hunted in packs. They all carried the DNA those various strategies had blessed them with, remnants of their evolutionary childhood.
Terrans, as it turned out, were an oddball. They weren’t especially fast and carried no venom. While they could be patient and often used ambush, and though they were pack hunters themselves, it wasn’t what they excelled at.
What set humans apart from the other species was stamina.
Known as Persistence predation, they were blessed with a unique physiology that allowed them to shed waste heat easily, given long legs, specially adapted muscles and tendons, and the ability to carry spare energy as fat. Humans could travel great distances in a single go, running for kilometers while other races dropped like flies. They weren’t the fastest, that much was true, but they could keep a steady pace long past the breaking point of almost any other species. With advanced technology at their fingertips, it meant nothing, of course. Their enemy had vehicles of every sort, and had used them since day one, but in the past forty-eight hours the Valkyries had concentrated their efforts in hitting their weapons systems, their infrastructure... and especially their vehicles.
Take those away, and suddenly the equation got a lot more interesting. It convinced Rúna, down to her bones, that the enemy force they had snuck up on, the one certain they would just keep running away from their superior forces, was asleep, and her observations on the enemy camp seemed to bear that out. Utterly and completely exhausted from their long chase, slumbering away, secure in their knowledge that the worthless Terrans were beaten at last.
Unfortunately for them, the Valkyries hadn’t gotten that memo.
A familiar tone sounded in her ear, the notification of an imminent “All-Hands” broadcast.
“This is Warlord Six Actual, to all units,” the colonel announced. “I am starting the clock now. Zero-Five Mikes until we assault our objective. Noise and Light discipline is in effect, and there is to be zero pre-assault weapons fire. Repeat, I order you to hold your fire, unless fired upon. All units acknowledge and stand by.”
A countdown timer appeared in her visor, the clock ticking down as the responses started trickling in. “What the hell is going on?” Kai asked her, stunned by this sudden turn of events.
“I’m sorry I held you off like that, and went over your head,” she apologized, “but we didn’t dare wait. Unless I’m very much mistaken, our friends across the way are all asleep.” She managed an evil grin.
“Asleep?” he said, disbelief tinging his words.
“Almost positive,” she nodded, “and no, I’m not a hundred percent sure. It’s too crazy. But,” she said, taking a deep breath, “I’m sure enough to bet my life on it.”
He was silent for several long moments, and then finally shrugged. “That’s good enough for me,” he smiled. “Get your people ready to move.”
“Aye aye,” she grinned as she went to grab Becca and Arthur.
The assault itself was like tiptoeing through a minefield. If she was right, if they were asleep, then the last thing they wanted to do was wake them up, hence the colonel’s warning about noise and light discipline. There was almost five hundred meters of open space to cross, and with each step she took, it convinced Rúna it would be her last. They moved like cautious phantoms across the landscape, not making a sound, not daring to make a sound, even though they were now in plain view of the enemy. If they weren’t fast asleep, then they were merely setting them up for the ugliest ambush she had ever witnessed.
But with each step forward, a guarded optimism started taking hold. Not dead yet, her mind whispered, not dead yet.
----------------------------------------
Paygan Xeing slept fitfully, despite his exhaustion. The contract had been an uncomfortable fit for the Ixi, flying in the face of their ancient traditions. Unfortunately, one did not refuse the Troika, not lightly, and not without dire consequences. He admired the Terrans; they were an honorable race. Forced to be their executioner had left him irritable, unsettled. Simple creatures they might be, but warriors with their courage deserved better.
Something poked at him, disturbing his slumber. Rolling away from the irritation, it returned almost immediately, more urgent this time. He tried to move once more, only to receive a solid strike to his torso that jolted him awake. “... what…?” he slurred, only to have his eyes snap fully open in disbelief as he stared at an impossible apparition.
“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” Rúna grinned, her rifle easily tracking his every movement. “This is your wake-up call, Paygan, and by the way... you are now my prisoner.”