Loren L. Coleman - Tales of the Jihad - Shadows of Faith 3

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BattleCorps

ShadowS

of faith

Volume 3

by Loren L. Coleman

Tales of The Jihad

BattleCorps

Shadows of Faith • Page 2

-4-

Harlech

Outreach

14 November 3067

Jason Williamson sat on a metal folding chair in the ﬁrst row of

assembled Home Guard ofﬁcers and senior enlisted. Hands balled

into ﬁsts. One of twenty men crammed into this barren, musty

room with its silvered, raw lumber siding and stark overhead

lighting which was nothing more than a low-energy ﬂoodlight coil

suspended from a dangling wire. Calling it a substandard ofﬁce

was being kind. This delapidated loft inside one of Harlech’s aban-

doned warehouses, the building temporarily seized by the Home

Guard as a combination maintenance and logistics depot.

A place where they could gather to hear the latest reports. To

sit, and wait. Watching, as Major Alexander Veng leaned over a

battered overhead projector which some technician with a grudge

against the Home Guard could only have found on display in a

museum dedicated to antique ofﬁce equipment.

The projecter whirred and rattled in complaint as an internal cool-

ing fan with a shoddy bearing fought against the heat thrown off

by an internal, naked halogen bulb. The struggling fan shoved hot

exhaust out of louvered slots in the side of the projecter’s painted

aluminum box. Stirring papers strewn over Veng’s metal desk and

washing back over Jason’s face in a scorched-smelling draft.

As uncomfortable as Jason felt, however, it had to be worse

for his new commanding ofﬁcer. Major Veng (soon to be Brevet-

Colonel Veng, no doubt) worked directly up against that little

metal-shod oven, often with his face shoved into the up-cast light

such that his face washed out in a pale mask with dark, glittering

BattleCorps

Shadows of Faith • Page 3

pits for eyes and a grim frown tightened below his jet black wal-

rus mustache; an overexposed jack-o-lantern. The major slipped

a new transparency onto the bright glass. Fudged it about until he

centered it well enough below the magnifying lens to cast a new

list of names and numbers onto the white sheet tacked against the

ofﬁce wall.

Low tech at its ﬁnest. Barely a step above ﬁnger painting on cave

walls.

“Not much new to report on the aggressors,” Veng said. Used a

black grease pencil to check off each of the ﬁrst three rows. “Waco’s

Rangers. Smithson’s Chinese Bandits. The Tiger Sharks. These

formed the main thrust which led the charge out of TempTown.

Hit us hard at the DropPort, and caught Epsilon mobilizing on the

practice grounds.”

Everyone nodded. This much they had known from the ﬁrst day.

But Veng paused at the next entry. Circled it. Drew a line through

it. “51st Dark Panzers.”

Jason leaned forward. Caught others in his peripheral vision

doing the same. Chairs scuffed against the wooden ﬂooring and

a few loose planks creaked. Jason’s ﬁsts tightened until his ﬁn-

gernails pressed painfully into the palms of his hands. The Dark

Panzers had been the most damaging of several surprises dished

out against Wolf’s Dragoons during last month’s sneak attack. A

unit of the Allied Mercenary Command! They were supposed to

have been vetted and cleared. They were supposed to have been

ﬁghting on their side!

But instead the 51st turned their coat, stabbing a long knife into

the Dragoons’ back. The chaos surrounding that treachery had

been part of what led to Brian Cameron setting Condition Feral.

Ultimately, it was what had led to Jaime Wolf’s small command

being isolated and hammered by Colonel Wayne Waco leading a

fresh charge out of TempTown.

And worse.

“If WolfNet’s investigation holds up,” Major Veng said, sweating

as he leaned over the projector’s bright warm up-cast, “and there

is no reason to think otherwise at this time, they’ve conﬁrmed

that it was the Dark Panzers who hit our barracks with fuel-air ex-

plosives. Smuggled in, we believe, only four hours preceding the

actual assault. There was a single alert from one of our own sen-

tries who went missing about then. Corporal Hammecher. That

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BattleCorpsShadowSoffaithVolume3byLorenL.ColemanTalesofTheJihadBattleCorpsShadowsofFaith•Page-4-HarlechOutreach14November3067JasonWilliamsonsatonametalfoldingchairinthefirstrowofassembledHomeGuardofficersandseniorenlisted.Handsballedintofists.Oneoftwentymencrammedintothisbarren,mustyroomwithitssilv...

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