Against All Odds/Story

The giant mushroom cloud rose over the tree line in the direction of Reshlund. Joe Tylars watched in awe and horror as the massive explosion continued to rise into the sky. He diverted his attention to a squadron of Srav fighters zooming overhead. Thankfully they ignored his tank battalion and continued on their way.

“Grizzly 1 to Black Dog, we’re coming up on the town.” came a voice over the radio.

“Copy Grizzly 1,” replied Tylars, “assume formation W, take the left point.”

“Yes sir.” acknowledged Grizzly 1. Tylars, a colonel in the Sinya Defense Force, retracted himself into the turret. He quickly loaded an anti-armor round into the cannon then looked out at through the gun sight. The tank was just coming over the hill overlooking the town of Etsako where two Srav transports had landed and were unloading troops. Tylars sighted the closer of the two.

“Fire!” he shouted into the microphone as he pulled the trigger. Two months later… Verrater Traditore gazed out the window of the old brick building at the skeletal cityscape outside. He smirked at the thought of the hundreds of foolish Sinyans that were now paying for their stupidity. When the Sravs arrived on Sinya, Traditore was the first Sinyan to welcome the conquerors with open arms and he was rewarded for doing so. Now overseer of the rebuilding of Reshlund, Traditore could now command the masses of Sinyans who, not only overthrew a legitimate government in the SSR, but also dared to resist the Srav Federation.

“Comrade,” called out Sergeant Surgut from the doorway, “Commander Khaz is waiting for your report.”

The smile disappeared from Traditore’s face; he hated making out stupid reports for Khaz every other day. The annoyed Traditore walked over to his desk, shuffled through some papers, then found the report. Without a word he handed it to Surgut and turned back towards the window. The brutish Srav sergeant then left the room to deliver the report as Traditore again began to look over the city. The “dump”, as Khaz called it, was now being rebuilt according to Srav design, but that meant little to Traditore. His only concern was his own personal power and he would stop at nothing to further it.

“Someday,” he muttered to himself, “I’ll have Khaz’s post as Occupation Commander.”

Traditore took one last look at the Sinyan horizon, the sun was now gone and the last bit of light was fading. He then left his office and headed towards his living quarters. SDF Supreme Commander Dak Chamblers watched the countryside fly by as his vehicle speed towards the forward lines. With the death of the Ken Trallar and the entire General Staff during the invasion, Chamblers inherited the title of Supreme Commander by default. Of course this meant he had to keep the fragmenting Sinya Defense Force united and under control, and thus he was now heading to the front line to talk with General Joe Tylars. Tylars, at least in Chamblers opinion, was an insolent child who shouldn’t even have been an officer, much less a general. He grew sick of hearing about the kid’s war record during the Sinyan Civil War and his success at Etsako during the Srav invasion. After all, Chamblers thought, he was running the army not Tylars or his advisors. He’d set the kid strait.

“Entering sector Delta 38 sir,” reported the driver, “we’re near the front line, be ready for artillery fire.”

Chamblers tightened his helmet strap. “General,” reported the young soldier, “Supreme Commander Chamblers is here.”

“Bring him in.” replied Joe Tylars bleakly.

The soldier quickly went to get the SDF’s leader while Tylars threw a pile of worthless papers in his desk drawer. Tylars jumped to attention and saluted Chamblers as he entered the room. Chamblers returned the salute and sat down in the chair set across from Tylars desk, after he was seated Tylars likewise sat down.

“I think you know why I’m here.” said Chamblers grimly.

“I can imagine.” Tylars replied.

“Then imagine this, unless you start obeying orders, Colonel Ergiez will get his long deserved promotion, and you’ll be known as Lieutenant Tylars.”

“Ergiez? That stupid fool who didn’t even have to guts to resist the crims at Stahlon?” Tylars spat in disgust.

“He should have been made general long before you boy.” Chamblers retorted, “He at least knows how to obey orders!”

“All he does is worry about keeping his prisoners comfy.” Tylars replied, thinking of the fact that Colonel Ergiez was known for overly-fair treatment of captured Sravs.

“And there’s another thing! I’ve had enough with this ‘kill them all’ mentality.” Continued Chamblers, “We need prisoners to interrogate, which usually works best if their alive!”

“My men operate as I command!” screamed a now furious Tylars.

“And you are to operate as commanded!” Returned Chamblers, “It’s no longer gonna be all you’re way kid. This is you’re final warning.”

With that Chamblers stormed out of the room and returned to his vehicle, leaving Tylars standing, fists clinched, in front of his desk. “Their entering your area now sir, get ready.” reported a man over the radio.

Zenn Mietere spied the Srav staff car coming around the street corner. He turned and quickly glanced at his men who were standing on either side of the road. They began to walk up behind him as the staff car continued up the street. Although this was a part of Reshlund had been abandoned after the invasion, this particular Srav officer always went this route on his way to inspect the city’s reconstruction progress. Mietere and his men were all disguised as Srav soldiers but in fact were members of the Sociamorte, an underground fascist group that was unwilling to submit to socialist Srav Federation. Mietere began to walk forward and signal for the vehicle to stop, which it did. The driver exited the car and walked up to Mietere.

“What’s the problem comrade?” the driver asked, seeming somewhat annoyed.

“This area is off limits to unauthorized personnel.” reported Mietere, who was trying to mask his Sinyan accent.

“If it was, we would have been notified.” replied the driver.

“Sorry comrade.” said the disguised fascist, “I’ll need identification.” The Srav driver looked back towards the car and motioned for the officer inside to come out, which he did.

“What’s all this about!?” he demanded furiously.

“Just a moment sir.” replied Mietere as he crouched down as if to tie his boots. This was the signal for his men standing behind him, who opened fire with their machine guns. The two Sravs crumbled lifelessly to the ground and the gunners ceased their barrage.

“Good work men.” Mietere said as he stood up. “Let’s get out of here.”

They turned and began to head towards the group’s car. Suddenly, Craft, the more experienced of his two men, stopped in the middle of road and stood still for a few seconds as if he was listening to something.

“What is it Craft?” asked Hans Gurtez, the younger of Mietere’s men.

“Shh.” was the reply. Craft suddenly whirled around and let out a burst of bullets in the direction of the Srav staff car. Mietere turned just in time to see a third Srav soldier fall lifelessly to the ground. Mietere cautiously walked up and examined the body. A small radio was still in his hand.

“Do you think he was able to contact reinforcements?” asked Gurtez.

“I’m not sure.” Mietere said quietly. “Let’s go before…”

He was cut off by the sound of gunfire. Suddenly two army trucks came barreling around the corner at a breakneck speed.

“Get inside!” ordered Mietere.

The three fascists quickly jumped inside the staff car only to find that the engine had been damaged by a stray bullet. Craft exited the car and fired several shots at the incoming trucks while Mietere and Gurtez dashed towards the nearest building. The lead truck stopped and deployed its troops, who opened fire on the fleeing resistance fighters. Gurtez cried out in pain as several bullets punched through his chest. Mietere took out his pistol and fired at the incoming Sravs but too little avail.

“Go sir!” yelled Craft, “I’ll hold them off!” Without a second thought, Mietere ducked into the building. Traditore paced furiously back and forth in his office. He finally exited the office and went into the hall outside.

“Has Major Spaalev reported in yet?” he asked to the secretary.

“No, not yet comrade.” she replied.

“What about Surgut? Where the hell is he?”

“He left five minutes ago to report to Commander Khaz.”

“Cursed Sravs.” Traditore muttered under his breath.

Just then, the phone on the secretary’s desk began to ring. Traditore held his breath hoping it would be Spaalev as he waited impatiently while the secretary answered the phone. She answered and listened to the man on the other end for a few moments.

“Colonel Grimlokin from the intelligence bureau sir.” the secretary finally said.

Traditore wondered what the intelligence officer could possibly want as he took the phone.

“Commandant Traditore speaking.” said Traditore.

“Commandant Traditore, we have very unfortunate news:” Grimlokin began, “Major Leon Spaalev has been murdered in the south side of Reshlund today.”

“Murdered?” Traditore asked, somewhat surprised.

“I can’t go into the details over the phone but I would like you to come to the Bureau’s office so we can discuss this.”

“Fine, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

With that Traditore slammed down the phone.