Koba was a blessedly cool world distinguished by rolling grassy plains and high, heavily treed plateaus. Though diverse in content, the local ecosystem was unspectacular, dominated by the dense evergreen forests of the plateaus. Animal life tended to frequent the green canopy or burrow underground. Large predators were unknown, possibly due to the absence of ground cover in the form of bushes and high grasses in which prey animals could hide and thrive. There was no native intelligent species.
A hundred years before, the enemy had placed a number of scientific installations on Koba. They'd held it ever since. Large-scale colonization had commenced only recently. It was the kind of expansion civilized beings had to contest. The enemy had resisted, thus far successfully, expanding their local production of domestic food animals and grains. They had also begun to exploit Koba's mineral deposits. The place was in danger of becoming a significant contributor to the war effort. Not a particularly rich world, but one whose resources were definitely worth denying to the spreading forces of evil.
Major forces could not be spared to attack Koba, but it was decided that one or two quick surgical strikes might render the enemy's position there less than tenable. While substantial, planetary defenses were widely dispersed. It would take time to bring them to bear on an assault.
This was confirmed by the fact that Ranji's group was able to make the drop to the surface without incident and with all their equipment intact. Nor were they forced to deal with immediate opposition. Perhaps the locals were confused by the size of the invasion, on the face of it far too small to present any real threat. They would be even more unsettled by the movements of Ranji's group, which in a radical departure from traditional strategy had been empowered to operate independent of the rest of the landing force.
The new, high-performance air-repulsion skids the attackers brought for surface travel were virtually noiseless. Their minimal heat signature allowed the strike force to advance rapidly under cover of night. While other groups engaged local defenses, Ranji's simply raced out over the flat plains, bypassing enemy positions on several occasions.
They were heading for the high country, their target the communications and information center for the most heavily populated portion of the planet. Despite the speed of their advance there was some question as to whether they would even get into position to attack. Within a day of their touchdown, enemy opposition had stiffened to the point of wiping out several assault groups, and Command was forced to consider calling a quick retreat off-world. Fortunately, enough senior officers demurred. But if they expected to remain on Koba, they would have to show some progress.
Ranji's group continued to avoid detection by the enemy. In that respect they had already proved their worth.
The communications complex was located on the outskirts of the major population center, which itself was strung out along the edge of one of the numerous high plateaus which dominated Koban topography. The plateau sloped down to the plains. It was from there that Ranji's group intended to make their final push.
Instead of landing and attacking atop the plateau as the enemy would expect, Soratii and his advisors had decided to cross the plain below and work their way up a shallow canyon, following a cascading river system. Only when they had begun to ascend was their presence finally detected and the alarm passed to the city's defenders.
Ranji's group threw back one counterattack after another as they continued to move upslope, traveling in twos and threes to further confuse an already badly rattled enemy. They advanced on both sides of the white-water cataract, whose noise and constant motion further served to mask their approach. Light camouflage armor blocked individual heat signatures, so that the defenders were forced to try and pinpoint each oncoming soldier visually.
Fighting became fragmented as the terrain grew steeper and more difficult, with squads unable to effectively support one another. As geology was neutral in any conflict, the enemy was forced to deal with the same problem. This led to a chaotic battlefield situation, especially at night. Ranji's people throve in the resulting confusion.
Flashes of light from energy weapons and continual explosions filled his senses as he ascended. They soon found themselves in among the large trees and dense tracts of forest which clung to the upper slopes, rendering fighting even more difficult. Thanks to the presence of running water they were able to travel lighter than usual. Even in an era of advanced instrumentation and sophisticated weaponry, the absence of clean water could still be more debilitating to troops on the move than heavy explosives.
Ranji was thankful for the presence of the dense vegetation, which screened them from aerial surveillance. With luck and camouflage suits, they would be on top of the communications complex before the enemy knew what hit them. If they could destroy that it would not only panic the local population, it would put a considerable crimp in the enemy's efforts to coordinate a planetary defense. An intense firefight broke out off to his immediate left, on the far side of the river. They were close enough to the run of the plateau now to see the first of many communications antennae protruding into the night sky, though the structures from which they sprouted were still concealed by slope and trees. Closed-beam communicators on both sides were frenetic with shouted orders and reports.
Ignoring the difficulties of his compatriots on the other side of the cascade, Ranji led his own group onward.
They had just crested the rim when they ran into the enemy squad, advancing cautiously through deepening twilight. The defenders were in the process of crossing the river, intent on joining what they perceived to be the major engagement taking place just below.
Ranji waited until the enemy troops were halfway across before giving the order for his people to open fire from the cover of rocks and trees. That their presence was still unsuspected was confirmed by the surprise among the defenders as they were attacked. Those caught out in midstream had nowhere to run, though from Ranji's standpoint too many escaped. Most went down, either on the rocks or in the water itself. Limp and lifeless, one body after another was lifted by the current and carried downstream. The survivors scattered back into the forest.
It offered Ranji his first opportunity to examine the monsters at close range.
Only a few of the corpses were wearing armor or camouflage, further proof that the assault had caught the defenders of the communications complex unaware. Given its strategic importance, Ranji was surprised. Overconfidence, or simply a lack of adequate preparation? Clearly they hadn't expected any of the invaders to come this far this fast.
Tourmast knelt and rolled one of the bodies over. Only the upper half was armored. A gaping hole showed darkly in the lower portion of the abdomen. Though Ranji had studied innumerable images of the monsters, it was still something of a shock to view one close up.
Just as in the tridimensional imagery he'd been exposed to as a student, the similarities were impressive. There was little enough to differentiate him from the body on the ground. Physically, that is, he reminded himself. Mentally and morally the gulf between himself and the creature that lay dead in the dirt was vast.
"We don't want to linger here," he muttered uncomfortably. "Let's keep moving." Tourmast grunted and rose as Ranji checked in with the rest of his group via communicator.
The squads on the other side of the river had been hurt, but had quickly beaten back the counterattack and regrouped. They were moving upslope again and were not far from Ranji's present advanced position. The single enemy slider which had come a-hunting with heavy weapons had been shot down. As they had hoped, the majority of the enemy's ordnance was occupied farther south, engaging larger elements of the invasion. Their opposition was lightly armed.
They expected to encounter heavier resistance as they spread out and raced toward the target, and were pleasantly surprised to find little in the way of opposition. Brushing that aside, they entered the complex and methodically took it apart. The communications personnel had fled just ahead of them. After every piece of instrum
entation had been melted or otherwise dismantled, the buildings themselves were reduced to ashes. Ranji regarded his group's handiwork proudly. It would be a long, long time before anyone dispatched so much as a friendly greeting from this location.
They departed just as enemy reinforcements began to arrive from the nearby city, leaving them to contemplate the total destruction of the communications complex as well as the absence of its perpetrators, who were already retreating rapidly under cover of night.
Halfway down, the slope leveled off enough for them to use their skids. Now it would be difficult if not impossible for the enemy to catch them, Ranji thought with satisfaction. Rather than being tired, he found that he was eager to embark on the next operation. His colleagues and friends shared his feelings.
The following morning the enemy did its best to cut them off. Maybe they expected the ravagers of the communications complex to be exhausted from the previous night's activities. Ranji's group smashed through them, not even deigning to take up a defensive posture and wait for assistance.
An enemy female slung her slider alongside, firing as she did so. He evaded, whirled, and came back atop her. As he shot her at close range it occurred to him that she was rather pretty, for a monster. There was, however, nothing to love in the brief glimpse he had of her distorted, unnaturally gaunt face. Trailing smoke and flame, her craft slammed into the dry plain below.
A heavier attack came later that evening. This time large aircraft were involved. We really upset them, Ranji mused as he glanced backward and smiled. The enemy was furiously engaged in demolishing the decoy vehicles his group had left behind for just such a purpose.
By the next morning the numerous skids and their triumphant operators were streaking unopposed across rolling plains, well beyond range of attack.
Their initial mission had been a complete success. In addition, the group had sustained minimal casualties, remarkable considering the riskiness of the operation and the fact that monsters had been prominent in the defense of the complex.
Ranji took time to visit the wounded. All were in good spirits, not in the least depressed by their injuries. Among the special assault group's personnel, only two had been lost. All of the injured had been successfully evacuated and were intact enough to be medically restored. It was an unprecedented accomplishment.
The destruction of the facility had seriously complicated the Kobans' defense. Non-Cossuutian Ashregan and Crigolit forces which had been pushed back used the resultant confusion for a breathing spell, and in two instances were actually able to resume their advance.
Though Ranji and his friends were anxious to return to combat, they were informed by their superiors that they were too valuable to risk so soon in another similar operation. Instead, to their considerable disappointment, they were ordered off-world.
"You've earned your reward," a senior officer informed him as they chatted on board the transport ship. It hovered safely in Underspace, in orbit around Koba's single moon.
"But righting on Koba continues," Ranji protested. "We can help. We can ..."
"You did what you were brought here to do," the officer informed him brusquely. Then she added, more gently,
"I myself do not know why you were evacuated. I personally think your mere presence below would be a considerable asset to our efforts. Everyone knows of your group's accomplishments. But it is not for me to question. My orders were to see your people taken safely off-planet. Command is not always generous with explanations."
"What now?" Disappointed but resigned, Ranji leaned back in the lounge and crossed his legs.
"I believe you are to be singularly honored," the officer informed him.
"How can anyone be honored for one operation?" Tourmast fingered the skintight attached to his forehead, where he'd been grazed by an enemy energy bolt. Skin and bone were healing nicely, Ranji noticed. "Especially when the battle has yet to be won."
"It is not for me to say." As the officer spoke she idly caressed the knuckles of her left hand.
"And when is this 'singular honor' to be bestowed?" Tourmast muttered.
"Soon after your return home, I believe." Noting their reaction, she added, "I see that you have not yet been informed. Allow me the privilege. I am informed that the Teachers intend to commend you personally."
Weenn spoke up from nearby. "Ah. That will be real joy for Kouuad."
"No." The officer looked at him. "Not your teacher. The Teachers."
Ranji tried to prepare himself mentally as the transport sped through Underspace toward Cossuut. His emotions were mixed. While he was delighted at the prospect of seeing his family again, as a soldier he regretted leaving Koba unsecured. He had not expected his initial combat experience to be so ... episodic. Perhaps next time they would be allowed to stay and fight until the world being contested had been won for civilization.
There were worse fates, though, than being plucked from the field of battle to suffer exaltation and honor.
Not only was the Cossuutian media saturated with the news of their accomplishments, their arrival was recorded for rebroadcast throughout the civilized worlds. The military made a great show of it, presenting the heroes of Koba to the public one by one in the capital city's largest outdoor amphitheater. The ceremony seemed to go on forever, and the heroic fighters soon found themselves dreadfully bored.
Officialdom saved the leaders of the attack, the group officers, for last, developing the presentation as efficiently as if they'd been orchestrating a piece of music. Soratii, Ranji, Tourmast, and the others dutifully took their respective turns at the podium.
What most impressed Ranji when his turn came was not the surging crowd, the plethora of recording devices, or even the knowledge that his parents and siblings were in the front row of the audience. It was his sudden proximity to two of the Teachers.
Warmth and affection poured from them to envelop not only those on the brightly decorated stage but all who were fortunate enough to be in their immediate vicinity. As had those who'd preceded him, Ranji approached and extended a hand. The four manipulative digits at the end of one tentacle opened like a flower, then closed with the silky softness of shy petals around his closed fist. A warm rush of admiration and thanks filled his mind.
How wonderful it was, he thought, to have achieved his life's dream. To be honored for doing what he would gladly have done in anonymity. To be alive, and healthy, and assisting the advance of civilization. The Amplitur's digits withdrew. Mentally and emotionally elated, Ranji pivoted smartly and returned to his place on the dais.
One-who-Surrounds was feeling much wellness. The local weather was amenable, and the excitement and reverence their visit had generated among the Ashregan was gratifying to behold. Though they did not know it, the proceedings honoring the special fighters was another graduation ceremony of sorts. It signified the official success of the Project, in which the Amplitur had invested a substantial amount of time and effort. It was a great day for the Purpose.
Though the weather was pleasant, One-who-Surrounds was still less than optimally comfortable. The Ashregan preferred drier worlds than the Amplitur, and it was something of a sacrifice for One-who-Surrounds and its companion to remain exposed to the desiccating air for such a long period. But could they have done any less to honor the fruits of the Project?
It had been a long time aborning, and had involved the most intense efforts of the Amplitur and their Ashregan allies. To see those hopes so powerfully fulfilled, and ahead of schedule, was more than sufficient justification for the somewhat uncomfortable visit. When one served the Purpose with one's whole being, one could not fuss at inconsequentials such as temperature and humidity.
It was touching to observe the pleasure their mere presence induced in their allies. One-who-Surrounds was curious to see how the special fighters would react, but it was no different for them. There was the same receptivity, the same calm acceptance and mutual admiration one would find among any ordinary Ashregan.
&n
bsp; Except that this group was not ordinary. They had proven that already, on Koba, succeeding beyond the wildest hopes of the Project's supervisors. The fighting abilities and unique characteristics which they had been bred for would be passed on to succeeding generations, to the betterment of the Purpose. Another carefully chosen field test or two and the survivors would be retired with honors, encouraged to produce as many offspring as possible. They would want to continue fighting, of course, since that was what they had been trained to do, but in the end all would accept their retirement gracefully. The Amplitur would suggest that they do so.
They did not mention any of this to the individuals they honored. It would be impolitic to refer to members of an allied species as breeding stock, just as it would have been counterproductive to inform them that certain of the specialized characteristics they would pass on to their offspring were not natural in origin but rather the results of unsurpassed Amplitur efforts at nanobioengineering.
Even as One-who-Surrounds congratulated the heroes of Koba, efforts continued to refine and expand the scope of the work which had produced them. Success could always be improved upon. The scientists of the obstructionist Weave did not rest in their efforts to thwart the Purpose. Those who promulgated its tenets could do no less.
One-who-Surrounds looked forward to the results of the next test, in which the special fighters would be asked to confront fully operational Human forces. If they could de.-feat not merely Massood or Chirinaldo but Human soldiers in direct combat, then the triumph of the Project would be assured. The effect on Weave morale would be devastating.
Turning to face the audience, One-who-Surrounds raised both tentacles, spreading all eight manipulative digits wide in a gesture of greeting and unity. A wave of genuine warmth and appreciation flowed out to wash over those in the front rows. The bulbous eyes, each on the end of its short stalk, swiveled independently to survey the native crowd as it cheered softly.