9. A truce declared
Michael and Vargev both struggled to their feet, blackened, bloodied, and in Vargev’s case in agony, nevertheless they were still somehow alive. Both had injuries, Michael still hadn’t fully recovered from the crash, Vargev’s arm and ribs were in a bad way.
Kinraid, Jacobs, and another medic came to their aid. “Jesus, that looks like some fight you two had over there,” Kinraid said as Jacobs and the other medic checked them over.
“ We need to get both of you to sickbay, straight away.” Kathryn said.
After a short pause, Michael asked, “what’s the prognosis, doc?”
“ You’re bleeding internally again, colonel Vargev here has third degree burns to his left hand and upper forearm, as well as multiple fractured ribs.”
“ We had best do as the good doctor says,” Michael said.
“ You won’t get an argument from me.”
The sun was just beginning to rise over the distant Valcasian mountains, the shrill darkness of night was gradually giving way to the pale light of a new morning, and ending what was the worst night of bloodshed of them all.
Barely a fifth of the troops posted to defend the main gate had made it, many were wounded and the battlefield triage centre was swamped. The desperate cries of the dying could be heard as faint wails blown across the wind. The gate itself looked like a scene from hell. The still smouldering wreckage of three apollo battle tanks were strewn across the road at odd angles, casting a pall of thick black smoke over the area. The fallen forms of three dominator assault walkers were also ablaze, adding to the scene of desolation.
The sole remaining dominator to survive the onslaught was ‘big Bertha’ its assault cannon completely empty of ammunition. It sported several rents and tears in its armour, and its hydraulic ram was slick with the Krenaran blood it had spilled during the night. Its bullet proof cockpit glass was completely shattered, inside stood its pilot, corporal Greystoke, tired, battered, and with a deep ragged gash that seeped blood down the right side of his face. Still, he stood victorious.
Later that day Vargev was released from the med-bay of the Liberty, a few sessions in the dermal regeneration booth had largely healed his horribly burned arm. His ribs were healing gradually, the doctor had injected a drug known as protenase directly into the bone marrow of his ribs, to accelerate normal bone growth. However, they still plagued him and would for at least a week, so Kathryn had advised him.
He was quietly sat on the collapsed form of a concrete column, silently taking in the desolation, hundreds of good men lay dead or dying defending this place, the base was virtually in ruins due to three nights of intense fighting. The constant smell of smoke and death hung in the air, he watched as wounded soldiers piled up the broken bodies of the dead, once proud men reduced to charred, bloodied corpses.
To Vargev, this was the true horror of war, not the fighting, but the aftermath. Counting the cost and feeling everything his men went through, because he was one of them.
With a deep sadness he knew that his men, although they fought valiantly, every last one of them. They were in no position to mount an effective defence for a fourth night, Echo base had fallen and his heart sank.
I will make sure that people will know what had happened here. Those five hundred men held out against a vastly superior Krenaran force for three whole nights and gave every last breath to defend a key supply base against these monstrous Krenarans who would destroy it.
A small tear ran down the grizzled commando colonel’s cheek.
A young Lieutenant, by the name of Cole approached him and saluted, Vargev tried to return the salute, however he couldn’t, whenever he lifted his arms his ribs felt like they were on fire, the lieutenant understood however.
“ Sir, it’s the Krenarans, they have stopped their attack and one of them wants to speak with you.”
He snorted, so now they want to talk. It’s not enough that we’ve been pummelled into oblivion, now comes the inevitable surrender and you’ll all be spared plea; predictable.
“ Thank you Lieutenant, tell him I’ll be right there.”
Michael was still in sickbay and had fallen unconscious again, his condition had worsened. Kathryn monitored him closely, fearing for her captain’s life, he couldn’t die, he was Michael Alexander, the heroic captain of the Liberty, and one of the most famous and decorated officers in the E.D. F, and she needed him.
Vargev returned to the sickbay of the Liberty to watch over his friend, Kathryn had informed him of Michael’s condition and Nikolai spent some time at his friend’s side, silently watching him, the damned Krenaran can wait.
Finally, he said softly. “I’ve got to go now old comrade. I shall see you soon.”
With that, Vargev left sickbay and Michael alone while Kathryn carefully monitored him.
He walked with Cole to a raider parked not too far from the damaged Liberty.
“ I think you’re going to have to drive lieutenant,” Vargev smiled weakly as he carefully clambered inside.
“ Yes sir,” Cole drove the raider as carefully as he could manage across the bumpy grassy field, and back onto the broken tarmac of the road, he then hung a right and drove straight towards the main gate.
A small group of Krenarans had gathered amidst all the wreckage, they were armed, several infantrymen and a couple of commandoes had their weapons trained on them.
Cole parked the raider fifty feet or so further up the road, and they made their way down towards the small group. Looks as though these Krenarans were captured or surrendered, Vargev thought. However he remained silent, wondering how this would play out.
The lieutenant spoke first, “this is the highest ranking officer currently present here; his name is colonel Vargev.”
“ So this is the legendary Colonel Nikolai Vargev, you have garnered a fierce reputation amongst my people. I am Dalvosh, second in command of Krenaran forces after lord Alax. Your men have fought with honour and bravery, and have earned the respect of the Krenaran people.”
“ Err… Thank you.” Vargev replied, still waiting for them to demand his surrender.
“ Let this day mark the end of hostilities between our peoples, both sides have already lost far too much in this needless war,” Dalvosh continued, nodding his head almost reverentially at Vargev, who was dumbfounded, could this be the first peaceful Krenaran, or was it just a ploy.
“ First, have your men lower their weapons,” Vargev said. “Then we’ll talk.”
“ If we do that, your men will kill us,” Dalvosh replied.
“ My men are trained to obey my orders.”
“ As are mine.”
Both sides readied their weapons; long, tense seconds passed as Vargev eyed Dalvosh who at eight feet tall was considerably shorter and leaner than Alax, but still towered over the colonel nevertheless, who was attempting to discern any trickery in those deep red eyes of his. Dalvosh did likewise, he knew full well that Vargev was a deadly and implacable enemy of the Krenaran people and would not hesitate to kill them all, given the chance. Or that was what he had been taught.
Both commanders almost simultaneously ordered their men to lower their weapons, after a few more tense seconds both groups lowered them. The sense of mistrust between the two commanders was still thick in the air, and they continued to eye each other suspiciously.
“ What about the thousands of slaves you took during the war?” Vargev asked, remembering that horrible time at the now ruined Agemman colony.
“ As soon as an official ceasefire treaty can be drawn up, your slaves will be returned to you. The Krenaran empire no longer wants this war, it has cost us too much already with the loss of two of our greatest leaders, together with the loss of ships and troops.”