The Province Of Terrans

A Starshatter adventure

My fellow Terrans, Sci-Friday has dawned once more.

Today’s chapter will reveal the outcome of your vote, an ambush beset by a trap within a trap! Not to mention your choice of gear and tactics for this bunch of defiant ex-slaves, now sworn members of the Terran Minarchy’s free militia.

Enjoy this chapter and keep voting, my friends. As you see I have written a number of Tanka for Terran-Tuesday. The more and longer your comments, the more ammunition I have for said poem.

For those of you new to VYOA, this is a story of interactive nature, where you, the reader, choose one of three paths standing before the main character. Your vote is the guiding force of this adventure!

With one week between the chapters, there is more than enough time for you to make your decision. Share the story with your friends on Substack, see if they support your choice or vote a different way. Voting cycle will end each Thursday so I may have enough time to complete the chapter.

Those who like can discuss the protagonist’s options and I promise to answer your questions concerting Terran culture, philosophy, and worldbuilding to the best of my ability!

If you like what you read, consider buying any of my published works.

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Index: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

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Chapter 10

Trap inequality

The time for action was now and Vinson would be damned if he missed a chance such as this.

“George, make sure you clip their shuttle... if it should dare show up!” – the Morale Officer whispered, changing his aim back to the pirate Ranger's back – “Lieutenant Pews, you know what to do.”

Receiving confirmation from squad two and George's heavy weapons team, he gave Noln a nod. Without wasting anymore time, Vinson emptied his pistol's entire power pack with repeated trigger pulls. Over a dozen of blue laser beams hit the enemy hissing through the wet air as they delivered hot death. His still weary target fell quite dead, riddled with smoldering holes from tip to toe. The laser pistol was plenty powerful and from what was effectively point-blank range, deadly.

The militiamen soon followed suit. They aimed their Mannlicher railgun carbines at pirate torsos, shooting them square in their backs. Indeed, from any other range, the added benefit of their jerry-rigged armorplating may have saved the Clanners. Wounded, they could've escaped with their lives to oppress another sentient.

Not today...

Moreover, the otherwise inexperienced in the ways of Peace peasants and mechanics had plenty of time to aim and calm their nerves. Chatter their deadly song the compact Terran railguns did and, in but a few star-seconds, the entire pirate patrol was basically ripped to shreds. Their mangled spacesuits dangled precariously on the edge of the gorge, a few tumbling down the cliff side, leaving colorful blood trails on their unfeeling descent.

“We... we've killed them!” – Shouted Noln, disbelief quivering in his voice as he still aimed the smoking Mannlicher at the mangled pirate bodies.

There was a sonic boom followed by a shimmer, one which distorted sunlight above the forest canopy. All eyes darted up, witnessing the menacing silhouette of a Clanner shuttle in the last stages of leaving the comfortable, yet sweltering hot embrace of her cloaking shield. Turrets and missile pods swiveled down, aiming at the no longer concealed militiamen, pink beams streaking through the burning forestry.

Immediately, George's heavy weapons team opened fire, a thick, overcharged red laser beam cracking open the shuttle's shielded ventral side. The modified craft shook, yet did not lose altitude, nor careen away and as it thrusters bellowed focused streams of plasma, a team of heavily-armored, armed to the faceplates prate marines descended down.

And so... it began.

“Fire the Wires now!” – roared Vinson's voice as he nudged the rest of his startled by their success militiamen back into the forest – “Everyone else—lob your grenades and run!”

The Morale Officer felt another barrage of automatic beamfire coming from the shuttle's cannons. He heard the Wires scream, an earsplitting explosion followed by the crack of detonating munitions. The roar of over-tasked engines and a choir of secondary explosions announced the Clanner's vessel very unplanned and quite permanent landing.

Noln's scream and the smell of burnt flesh could mean one thing – casualties.

Vinson was not hit, however, a couple of the particle-beams did land a bit too close for comfort. One man was immediately turned into a charred lump of flesh, his equipment a puddle of molten metal. Three others were hit by glowing hot rocks and burning splinters turned shrapnel by exploding rockets, yet their armored uniforms saved them. As the squad retreated carrying their wounded, the three Pirate marines on their heels, the militiamen lobbed grenades at them.

As their munitions exploded, slowing down the heavily-armored Clanners, Vinson knelt. He'd holstered his laser pistol and reaching for the HRAR the Terran screamed:

“Noln, keep falling back, I'll cover you. Reload and shoot on the move—focus all your fire on one pirate!”

“Yes, Sir!” – bellowed back the Lothorian as he slammed a fresh power pack in his Mannlicher.

Armor-plating scorched and bent, one of the pirate marines used his engines and flew forward, his heavy beam repeater aimed at the running militiamen. Arrogant or perhaps enraged by the loss of his fellow crewmates, the man was perhaps a tad bit too eager to avenge them. He'd barely fired one single beam when Vinson greeted him mid-flight with a barrage of armor-cleaving railgun projectiles.

Designed and built to defeat heavy infantry, the HRAR permanently grounded the pirate marine, severing one of his legs in the process. His two comrades hesitated for a couple of seconds and then went for cover, which earned the militiamen some breathing room. The paramedics had already carried the most heavily wounded man away on their stretcher, and so, Noln and his remaining men aimed their carbines at the nearest pirate.

When Vinson gave them the sign that he was falling back, they were ready. He ran towards a nearby rock and one of the marines left his cover, aiming to blast the Terran while this one was on the open. The militiamen unleashed a hail of projectiles, overwhelming the Clanner's armor and silencing him forever. Just when the Morale Officer ducked behind the rock and reloaded his railgun rifle, the third pirate marine flew up in the air.

Witnessing the doom of his comrades, the lone marine fired his RPG as he retreated. The anti-material rocket blew Vinson's cover to shreds, sending him tumbling in the air. Ears ringing and nose bleeding, he staggered, and as one of the militiamen helped him, spitting blood he shouted over the comms:

“Pews, Blam, George—report!”

The oldster shouted over the soft chatter of his Enfield – “We are fine laddie! Slagged one power pack and shot two Wires and shuttle number two. It retreated...”

“See you back in base then.” – Vinson overcame the pain and with Noln's help, limped faster.

An ear-shattering detonation following the hiss of Wires preceded Lieutenant Pews's report – “Sir, we've damaged the IFV and-”

The engineer's sentence was cut short by a series of rather audible electrical crackles, and the clangor of detonating grenades. Those were Sergeant Blam's automatic grenade launcher and Lieutenant Pews's plasma repeater hard at work. Cries, Vinson could swear he heard screams and wallows of pain, yet those too were interrupted, this time by Sergeant Blam's brutal snicker:

“Reporting four wounded, no deaths.” – there was a short pause before the hamster counted up to five enemy kills – “Just finished the IFV's troopers, Sir.”

“Retreating in good order,” – said Pews in between two loud slurps – “we even got two of their beam repeaters, Sir.”

“Debrief back at the base. Vinson over and out!”

A smoldering wreck and the broken corpses of many pirate star warriors behind, the militiamen left the battlefield. They walked fast, trying to stay wrapped in their chameleo-cloaks; two acting as rearguard; Vinson and Noln in the middle; the walking wounded at the front. Silenced, the forest critters resumed their chatter, uncaring of the brutal, swift and bloody battle that had occurred in their sylvan domain.

Birds of the opportune kind soon flapped their wings all over the ravaged field. They'd pick the flesh of the fallen Clanners, ripping whatever fabric and skin whenever they could, claw and beak finishing what the militiamen started. Before the pirates could claim that field, bugs and worms would nibble with happy abandon, joined by wriggling maggots and the ever-uncaring mold.

Even if the Clanners rebuilt the two destroyed vehicles and repaired their damaged shuttle, many of their warriors were lost. At the cost of one brave man, the pirates suffered too many casualties, including yet another strike to their morale.

“That Captain Zhur won't like them numbers, oh no Sir, not at all!” – Noln loudly announced, when what was left of squad one reached their triage dugout.

The heavily injured man had already been moved safely back to the underground and the paramedics proceeded to tend to the walking wounded.

“Plans, not even the best ones, survive a meeting with the enemy.” – Mumbled Vinson back, fighting the regeneration pains as one of the medics injected him with a medispray.

He'd just noticed that his Wire operators had kept the launch tubes and gave Noln a questioning look.

“Throw nothing... the hamsters said.” – the Lothorian answered, his eyes examining the slightly scorched, yet perfectly intact metallic tubes – “These even soak some of the enemy's scanning waves.”

Vinson nodded, looking at the damaged armor plates of Noln's uniform. Riddled in shrapnel, they were bent but did not fail, saving his life. What the man said about their Wires was true. Without their chameleo-cloaks, however, that ambush would've been impossible to pull off. Shooting from a longer range would also mean less enemies killed, if the unskilled militiamen actually hit them in the first place.

In a few minutes they'd left the dugout and limped their way inside the nearest tunnel. The Morale Officer carefully observed the men, noting that there wasn't any shred of disappointment in their eyes. They knew full well that defending their peace would not come without a price. Though Vinson would make sure said price was as miniscule as possible, pain and death could not be avoided...

Later, Vinson and Noln met the hamsters and George up in the command center. The troops were resting or eating and more meds were administered to the wounded at the medical bay. Fan was adamant that all six would recover swiftly and be able to return to their squads in three days time.

“We've given 'em a bloody nose.” – Snickered George as he twirled his mustache, looking at a holo-file with losses and kills.

“Though they can swing still, it won't be a punch oh-so-eager.” – Vinson lifted his arm so Blam could replace one of his damaged armorplates.

“Their captain's giga canny trap failed.” – Pews slurped some juice smacking his lips as he did, a huge grin on his face – “What passes for engineers among them will have to 'reimagine' their IFV concept too.”

“Yeah!” – Sergeant Blam snickered and reached for another plate – “They now realize that they can walk into an ambush and even with all their precautions, ground and air support, get slagged nonetheless.”

“Sir,” – Noln looked at the holo-file, wincing when his eyes darted across wounded and killed on their side – “what is our next move?”

“First things first.” – and Vinson took a bite from his sammich – “Rotate squad one out of our deployment schedule until their wounded recuperate. Put squad two in active reserve and attach the heavy laser weapons team to it.”

(One) “Lad, I taught all our designated weapons team troopers the joy of Enfield riding.” – George reached for his plate and grabbed a sammich – “We could easily build three of them. We have enough of syntholene for a whole battalion of sidecar motorcycles to operate for star-months.”

“Lieutenant Pews, how soon can it be done and how hard would it be to make them?” – asked the Morale Officer.

“Easy as monching a smol baggie of dried papaya.” – assured him the engineer, grinning from ear to ear – “Two days per bike, engine, sidecar and everything... even spare parts.”

“We can drive the critically wounded back to the nearest triage dugout and relocate a squad in a pinch.” – George said as he counted the advantages on his fingers – “Three men per motorcycle or a bunch of spare gear, ammo, etc. Riding beats walking ya know!”

“Yep, and they can navigate the tight forest paths too.” – Blam nodded and made his way to Noln, carrying a bag full of spare armor plates – “I gather we can fit them with sound mufflers and light armor shrouds laced with stealth composites.”

“The empty Wire launch tubes?” – Vinson asked as he reached for another sammich.

“Waste not, want not.” – said Pews with a very Terran grin.

There was a mischievous glint in his eye when he looked at their loot and salvage holo-file. The engineer finished his juice pack, slurping loudly as he did so and asked with a giggle:

(Two) “Huhwhat if we arm the heavy weapons teams? Our baddies haff strapped some extra armor and we can't always be gunning them down from... ye know... point-blank range.”

“Whatever do you mean, Lieutenant, and how long will it take?” – inquired the Morale Officer, himself enjoying a melon juice pack.

The lieutenant pulled a file out of his PDA and projected it as he spoke – “Between the two looted beam repeaters and what particle-beam guns we already have on our paws, we can easily craft three light-weight weapons in four days. Something like the jury-rigged squad beam repeaters or SBRs, these would serve our guys nicely.”

“We'll use empty Wire casings to make stealth shrouds for the SBRs. This way our boys can keep them powered on as they lurk in ambush and be ready to fire immediately.” – Sergeant Blam nodded, giggling together with his commander, as he replaced all of Noln's damaged armorplates.

“This will greatly increase our firepower.” – Vinson shared his thoughts – “We can lay down suppressive fire, keep heavily-armed pirates pinned as we grenade them to death.”

(Three) “Sir... I have an idea.” – Noln said, patting his new armorplates, as Blam fixed the rips in his uniform with a portable nano-sewing tool – “Some of the pirates are armed with compact beam snubguns, capable of devastating firing rates.”

The engineers shared a look and Pews swiped another file on their holoprojector. He quickly calculated how many of these smallish guns they could cover with stealth composites, after they cut the empty Wire tubes.

“Go on, laddie.” – George spoke up with a distant smile on his grizzled face and pretended to fire a gun, shaking his hands as if he fought the recoil – “This reminds me of our silenced Italian submachine guns, made by Beretta. The resistance cell I belonged to got them from a Free French submarine and we did put them to great use.”

“Excellent idea!” – and Vinson pointed at the holo where Blam had just added some of his gun-crafting input – “How many can we make and, again, how soon?”

“Sir, I am confident that in five days, we can make three per squad, each fitted with a stealth shroud.” – the Sergeant affirmed as he projected the schematics of another jerry-rigged from captured alien guns, yet very Terran-like armament.

“Taz'aran RBGs or rapid beam guns are quite efficient. Link a couple of particle-beam chambers to fire in quick succession, slap a heatsink so you don't melt your face, and just spray from the hip.” – Lieutenant Pews nodded, real life battlefield experience oozing from his voice as he spoke.

“We'll make proper heatsinks and increase the beam chamber efficiency so they don't guzzle all our power packs. The RBG can only fire on full-auto, however, but I recon we'll shoot them pirate heavies with it. Great gun for inexperienced troops!” – said the Sergeant and gave Noln a pat on the back – “No offense.”

“None taken.” – said the grinning Lothorian as he cracked his neck, his hands firing an imaginary submachine gun.

“Good. Get some shuteye and then start crafting. Meanwhile, I'll record something for our enemy to enjoy. We will setup a throwaway transmitter far from the mountain, tomorrow.” – announced Vinson as he swiped through a couple of holo-slides he'd taken with his pistol's scanner during the ambush, looking for the most appropriate ones.

He spent the better part of one star-hour to doctor a holo-slide and pair it with some choice words. Early morrow, under cover of darkness two militiamen placed the transmitter, left the area and only then activated it. Captain Zhur and his employer, Director Berul, soon followed by the entire pirate crew, watched a clip which inflicted yet another wound to their minds.

The holo-slide showed how their patrol was being stalked, yet that was just a setup. Actually, the last image and the audio message that Vinson recorded was the most impactful. There, the pirates saw a close up of their dead Ranger's faceplate and heard the Terran “War Liar” say:

“Our eyes are everywhere.”

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Dear reader, please do not forget to post your pick in the comments below, and elaborate upon why you think our protagonist should do so.