First Blood

‘Damn but I hate sand!’ John Hansen cursed as he sank ankle-deep into the soft sand. This had been happening all day. He had sunk, forced himself free, to sink again.1

Not even his armour’s environmental controls could cool him down as he struggled across the flat, barren, lifeless plains of the desert. How had he ended up here? Carrying a heavy bag and a blaster rifle through intense heat for mile after miserable mile. Nothing but nothing in any direction. How had he ended up here?2

He supposed he had deserved it. He had had a life in Illesia City, the capital city of the planet Alversia. He had had a car, a flat, a girlfriend and a good job. He had given that up when he had been walking through the main plaza near the South Passage when he had seen the advertising posters for the Army.3

He remembered it like it was yesterday. The sun had shining down on the granite tiles and illumining the great marble pillars. The people had been milling around, enjoying the summer heat as well as their hard earned money. The posters had been stuck up on a long billboard at one end of the plaza. Hansen had seen the posters and they had instantly appealed to him. Two days after that moment. He had joined the Alversian People’s Army.4

He had joined it to see the Universe and, indeed as soon as his Regiment had completed the rather extensive training course, they had been ordered to board transports for deployment abroad. He had been so excited. Where were they going? The Danaversian DMZ? The frontier? Pirate Garrisons?5

Not a bit of it. John’s Battalion had been sent to the planet of Kanvalas. The Kanvalas were Allies of the Alversians and they were having some extensive problems with Bandit Kings and Criminal Armies hiding in the vast deserts. So the People’s Army had been sent in, and that included his unit. All they had done for the past two months was go on long patrols, sometimes for days, checking up on all the isolated villages and ensuring they had the protection they needed. The People’s Army hadn’t the troops to launch a proper assault on the Bandits and so had to content themselves with patrols.6

That was what he was doing now, patrolling a long and dusty road that still looked the same as it had six hours ago when they had started. John was one of 200 troops marching in columns and divided into their four Platoons marching in step with only the respective officers giving the commands to the troops. This was endurance marching, it was boring and it was pointless. It was like to trying to cut through water. You may create a gap for a split-second but all the water will simply return as soon as you’ve moved on. That was what was happening all across the planet.7

Then ahead peered a small building, then two, then three. Gradually, a village began to emerge from the sand and stand alone in the vast nothingness of the desert. This was one of the hamlets they had been sent to check on, to see that it had not be attacked since the last visit and that it had not seen any major enemies for any length of time. It was nothing more than baby-sitting the Kanvalas but it had to be done. It was just John’s misfortune that he was doing it.8

“Hey! Johnny!” One of the other men in the column whispered to him. Most of the troops were silent, keeping their breath for the march ahead, “Is it true you were a Lawyer?”9

“Yeah, why?”10

“I’m going through a messy divorce and I could use your advice. Any chance?”11

“This ain’t really the best time”12

“Hoi! Quiet in the ranks!” A Sergeant called from just outside the column, save your energy for the enemy!”13

John stared straight ahead at the dust being kicked up by the platoon in front. The Sergeant’s name was Mallon and, beneath that armour he was a human tank. He allowed his head to drop as the miles loomed in front of him.14

Then he heard the horn.15

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~16

Captain Marston sighed sadly at the sight that had confronted him. From his position at the front of the column, he could see the mass of Bandit infantry moving down from a dune to the left of the Alversians. He turned on his horse and headed back to the Lieutenant of the leading Platoon,17

“Lieutenant Biggins, form your men up on the left and let the rest follow you. We’ll give them a few volleys on Setting 3 to scatter them”18

“Aye, Sir” Lieutenant Biggins saluted then turned to his Sergeants, “Form the Men up! Three ranks! Move!”19

Marston watched as the men broke from their perfect marching columns and ran to form into a battle line. As he watched, he felt a deep sense of pride in his boys. This was their first assignment and, while the General thought it would be good experience for a new unit, he knew better. The Men’s morale was plummeting through lack of action.20

‘If you were going to entice troops to the service at least give them something to do.’ He thought to himself, ‘or decent barracks’, he shuddered as he thought about the pits they currently inhabited. If he could, he might stay at one of the nearby villages for a few days and delay his return to his sand-filled sleeping bag.21

Henry Marston was an old Soldier, having been in action for over a decade. He knew how to fight and he knew how recognise that spirit in his men. He led them through a combination of being firm but fair. The last thing he had wanted to do was send his men to this dustbowl. But the General had insisted that it was best for the Regiment and so now here they were. Best make the most of it.22

As he returned from his daydream, he saw that his four Platoons had gone from a marching formation five men wide and ten deep to a battle line of three ranks. The front rank was kneeling while the other two were staggered so that everyman would have a shot. And they would be firing on Setting 3, a shot so powerful that it would pierce three enemies at once as well as overheating their weapons for several seconds. It would all depend on timing.23

So Marston waited.24

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~25

Life was good for Lord Dazack, leader and ruler of an area in the desert totalling over 300 square miles. True, the Kanvalas claimed it as theirs but there was no contesting it. If he marched on one of their little village-states, they would fold like a deck of cards and accept his rule.26

His people, the Romeran Bandits had not been the original inhabitants of this planet, but they had seen so much potential in it’s empty desert that they decided to settle. They could see that if one applied minor terraforming techniques, then the desert would yield vast grassland, perfect for crops and animals. The Kanvalas did not see this and so were happy to sit in their little isolated village-countries and leave it at that. He was not.27

Then the damned Alversians had come. Not only had they brought weapons and food for the Kanvalas Armies but they also brought their own damned troops. His own men already thought of them as ‘invincible’. Now his supply routes were endlessly pounded by Fighter aircraft and his depots pounded by artillery. Now he was facing a small band of Alversian Infantry and he was going to prove his might by crushing them. He would place their helmets in his palace and stick their heads on poles and distribute them across his lands as a warning.28

“My Lord?” It was Gary, his Advisor and an Alversian Mercenary. Dazack had hired him as soon as the first Alversian troops had landed. He had then proceeded to ignore almost all his advice and follow the rulings of the sun and the stars when making his decisions.29

“What is it?” He asked, making sure that he was covered by the shade of his square parasol, supported by four aides.30

“My Lord,” Gary sounded strained, “What are you doing?” he made it sound like a respectful statement.31

“Crushing these infidels, what else! How many?” Dazack asked his Alversian expert.32

Gary took one look at the small line of troops in front of him and thought for a few seconds, “Four Platoons, My Lord, that would make two hundred troops”33

“And I have four times that!” Dazack proudly declared, they will be crushed. True, none of his men had anything more dangerous than an axe but once they were within range, there would be a slaughter.34

Gary stayed silent. Of course he did, Dazack was paying him too much for him to object. So he waited for his loyal warriors to crush the Alversian scum.35

For Lord Dazack, life was good.36

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~37

“Steady lads! Steady!” The Sergeants called encouragement to the 200 men as they stood anxiously and waited for the charging Bandits to close in enough for the powerful blasts to be effective. This would be the first time that John had fired his gun in anger at a live target. He waited tensely, his finger on the trigger, all he would need was the call from his commander then he would fire as trained.38

The Bandits were getting closer and closer, their faces hidden behind wrapped clothes. Only a slit was available through which one could see their eyes. They all carried long, vicious axes and were screamed. Still John, standing in the second rank, waited for a call.39

“Infantry! Present ARMS!” The call went up and down the four platoons and John raised the butt of his weapon to his shoulder. Somehow, the weight of the weapon felt comfortable in his hands and now he could peer down the barrel, and see his enemy through the magnifying scope. They looked no less for formidable close up than they did from a distance.40

“Setting Three Volley!”41

John’s finger strayed from the trigger and flicked a switch close to the scope, changing his weapon from a automatic machine gun into a heavy duty mangling rifle. The clicking could be heard all along the line as every soldier made the adjustment. Now they nervously waited for the call to start the killing.42

“Infantry! Fire!”43

The noise was deafening as every one of the 200 Troops pulled the trigger. The result was a chain reaction in the chamber which threw heavily ionized molecules from the barrel with enough velocity to cut through the armour of three separate people. In the process, it would overheat the weapon chamber and the barrel, smoke pouring from each barrel and concealing the Alversian troops from their prey. The guns would take about three seconds to cool down. The Alversian troops waited tensely expecting a horde of sreaming enemy to come charging out of the smoke.44

As the smoke slowly drifted away, John could see the devastation that their lone volley had caused. In front of them was a carpet of dead and twitching enemy Bandits. The ground was thick with them. The rest had been checked, stunned by the ferocity of the fusillade.45

John was still staring in horror as another cry came from the Platoon Lieutenants,46

“Volley by Rank!!” A pause as the front rank of kneeling soldiers put their weapons back to their shoulders.47

“Front rank! FIRE!”48

The front rank was again concealed behind smoke as they fired a second volley. Their guns overheated again but this time the second rank, John included, raised their rifles to their shoulders and aimed through the smoke of the front rank.49

“Second Rank! FIRE!”50

John squeezed the trigger again, the armour protecting his shoulder from the brutal kickback. Now he was surrounded in smoke again as the rank behind prepared for the inevitable order,51

“Third Rank! FIRE!”52

The bolts flew just inches from John’s face as the third rank took their turn to pour fire into the Bandit ranks. This was what Alversian Infantry were feared for, powerful weapons, hard training and immaculate discipline. The Volley fire continued until, through the smoke John could see that the surviving Bandits had fled, leaving their comrades to die in the desert.53

“Infantry! Form up! Prepare to march!” The orders were barely heard over the cheers of the Troops, they had survived their first foray into combat. Now they prepared to march on to the next village and boast of their victory.