by Chris Hechtl
TF 2.4 was a shadow of its former self. He should by rights dissolve the unit and fold them into the others, but he'd backed the surviving captains’ insistence on staying the course. On the books six ships remained in the task force, so it was still viable … even if only two ships, an Arboth and a Resolution, were manned at the moment.
Fifty-six ships in the Stennis convoy had made a mess of things for him. The courier and eight freighters had escaped. Seven of the forty-seven warships had survived the battle with TF 2.4. The Nimitz class carrier Stennis was currently being used as a prison barge. Several people had put in a request for the ship once proper prison facilities were erected on the ground or elsewhere.
So, sixteen ships that were empty and lifeless. Six of them were still coming in to the inner star system. The rest had been placed in parking orbits together with Admiral V'r'z'll's Fifth Fleet. Four of the ships from the late Admiral Einezberg's command were what the engineers termed, “iffy.”
TF 2.2 and TF 2.3 were sitting near the spreading wreckage from the battle at the H002 jump point, covering it while TF 2.1 continued to remain one AU back as a ready reserve. Eventually, that spreading wreckage would be used to create defenses in the star system.
One group that wasn't with them were the Marines. He'd stripped out every Marine in Second Fleet and sent them to Fifth Fleet and the planet. They'd switched off control duties on Stennis with a selection of MPs from both fleets as well. MPs were handling some of the guard duties on some of the colonies as well.
He rubbed his chin. It still wasn't enough. Commander Briggs and his people had given them tons of information, but they hadn't broken the back of the enemy's forces on the planet. It was going to take more time, more pressure, and more importantly, more manpower and weapons to do the job.
He had recommended Renee for a Medal of Valor for her sacrifice. It was the least he could do for her and Trajin.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Rear Admiral V'r'z'll still didn't understand why Commander Briggs refused to take the military governorship of the planet. He certainly acted as the planet's leader but seemed reluctant to take on the mantle.
Her fleet was busy making good on their repairs while also performing ground bombing and reconnaissance missions. She'd wondered why Admiral White had set things up that way. Once the Marines had engaged, she'd finally understood and agreed with the division of labor.
Her negotiations with the enemy's Captain Ozman had ended abruptly. She had no idea if the human female had been killed or not.
She turned two of her four eyestalks to Stennis. She longed to put the ship back in service, this time fighting for the right side. The engineers weren't sure about how much it would take to put the carrier back into service. Most of her forces had been decimated too—not that she'd want her pilots to fly such deathtraps.
The next largest ship to survive was a Derfflinger class battle cruiser. The late Commodore Mayweather's people had done a bang-up job beating the rest of Stennis's battle line into wreckage, but they'd had a few that had gotten off more lightly than others. That and a Derfflinger was a tough customer to kill completely without getting a nuke into her guts. She was battered though, and her sister ships had been turned into wreckage.
She had no idea what the Admiralty would plan to do with the ships. Most likely they would be patched up enough to be able to jump and then sent back to Antigua to be rebuilt. She hoped the carrier would stay but it wasn't her decision.
Pity about that.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Agent N'gumo grimaced as the patrol passed. He had to be casual; you couldn't give yourself away by reacting to the Marines too much. Yes, they expected some fear and dirty looks, but dropping down was dangerous.
So was acting too nonchalantly though, which was why he was trying to find the right balance. Fortunately, the enemy was trying to bribe the population with giveaways of food as well as free medical clinics.
He had passed them on as potential targets, but so far, General K had refused them. He wasn't sure what the general was waiting for. He knew the importance of getting information … was he going to set up a patsy to make a strike to gauge the enemy's responses? He hoped so, though he hoped he wasn't the fool the general dangled out on a limb to get the information.
He wasn't sure he was alive. He had no clue. He'd been wounded three times but had so far survived. He'd narrowly missed getting killed by three KEW and two drone strikes. Some Horathians saw him as lucky.
He just wanted to find a way to hit back and really hurt the enemy. Somehow, someway he would hopefully get his chance before his ticket came up.
-~~~///^\~~~-
General Kissinger sighed wearily as he read the latest report over a can of stew. They had lasted two months, surpassing his expectations. He had even managed to conserve some resources including a limited supply of weapons and a couple suits of powered armor. Captain Ozman's people had worked a miracle with them and continued to work miracles keeping their tech going. They were keeping one step ahead of the Fed spies by shifting frequencies and encryption at random times during the day.
Shifting transmission locations had come after a painful KEW strike. They were learning but some of the lessons were painful ones. Painful expensive lessons he could ill afford.
He refused to authorize a stand-up fight with the enemy in control of the orbitals. The Marines were good, damn good. He was still studying and admiring them. He had authorized targeted IEDs and sniper attacks but only on those who were actively helping the occupation force. His motto was simple, be where the enemy wasn't. Along with that, he had standing orders drilled into everyone. Strike hard, strike fast, and get the hell out. As much as possible, obscure your face and where you are firing from so the cameras can't get you. Have clear lines of escape ready. Conserve your ammunition. Short burst transmissions, keep it short and sweet. Audio only, no data. Use code words. Don't lead the enemy back to a safe house. Scrounge what you can; steal what you can't. Do not leave a man behind. If they are wounded and can't move, give them mercy so the enemy can't use them against the empire.
Again, all of those standing orders had come from painful expensive lessons. They had to hold out. He was using every trick he could dredge up, but he was wondering if he was only delaying the inevitable.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Captain Ozman felt pretty much useless on the ground. She did her best to act as an officer though and did what she could to manage the general's resources responsibly.
General Kissinger hadn't been happy about her surrendering the platforms, satellites, colonies, and station in orbit. She'd held out negotiations as long as she could though, long enough for him to get to ground in the mountains.
They were pissing away resources though. The resistance had come out of nowhere. The orbital bombardments the general had allowed for but not the information pinpointing targets given to the Feds by the resistance.
None of them had expected how hard hitting the Fed Marines were either. They came in and secured the spaceport and strategic sites. They had even captured Ensign Puller's team apparently. Spotters near the port had identified the turncoats boarding a shuttle months ago.
Any hope of the empire sending a force big enough to save them was fading fast. They only continued to fight on because the alternative was death.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Ensign Miceal Puller realized that he was in trouble with the navy, but he couldn't help what had happened or how he'd reacted to it. The pirates had played him well, and he was ashamed of how he'd fallen for their mind game. The only way out was to face the music and deal with the consequences. The good news was that he was no longer someone's catspaw. Selma had gotten hers.
It bothered him that he had no idea what the others were saying. PO Lopez had never liked the situation. Hopefully, they were all giving good debriefs.
The bad news was that too many of his fellow officers and enlisted in Horath and elsewhere still were. And they had the
damn battle moon. That was a big problem for someone. No doubt someone somewhere was shitting a brick over that right about now.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Amadeus frowned as he read the latest interview report from the spooks handling Ensign Puller. Really, they were overwhelmed. There was so much going-on on the ground that the spooks couldn't dedicate the time and resources to interview the Ensign and his team properly and as carefully as they’d like, not to mention thoroughly.
He had yet to meet the Ensign. That was about to change though. He'd caught a ship to the inner star system leaving Commodore Harris in charge of the jump point defense in his absence.
He nodded when the ensign came into the room. The ensign hadn't been briefed about who he was meeting. That last was obvious from the young man's suddenly stiffening up as he came to attention. "Sir, Ensign Puller reporting for duty, sir!"
"At ease, Ensign," the admiral rumbled.
The ensign took on a parade rank stance. The admiral hid a smile. "So, had an interesting wake up?"
"Yes, sir. Honestly, sir, I didn't know what was going on. We bought the enemy's story hook, line, and sinker."
Amadeus's brown eyes narrowed at the use of enemy.
"Sir, if you knew what it was like during the Xeno war, you'd understand. We were all pulling together. I didn't know," the ensign said. He shook his head and then settled himself. "I realize that's not much of an excuse to some."
"Nor much of a defense and for the record," Amadeus accessed his implants and pinged the ensign with an IFF flash.
He watched the ensign's eyes go wide. He couldn't help but smiled bitterly. "So you see, we are both sleepers. I too woke up in a nightmare. The difference is, Admiral Irons was there and got us out," he stated.
"Admiral Irons, sir?"
"Admiral John Henry Irons, another sleeper. He's currently our CNO and acting president of the Federation."
The ensign whistled softly.
"You are going to go meet him."
"Sir?"
"I'm having you, your team, and this Lieutenant Selma Ghanna shipped to the capital by courier. Obviously with tight quarters, you'll have to go in stasis."
The ensign winced but then nodded. "Thank you for telling me, sir."
"Honestly though, you didn't have a single inkling about their true nature?" Amadeus asked, clearly curious.
Miceal sighed. "Sir, they are good. They kept us busy. They fed us a pretty good story. I say story now because now I know it's BS. I started to get feelings like something was hinky, but I never got much of a chance to act on it. I know a few of the team did too. The wool came off of our eyes when we were shipped here and found out about an attack. They tried to hook us with a cock and bull story about the Xenos controlling you but …," he shrugged.
"You didn't buy it?"
"No, sir."
"Your implants never went after you about being a prisoner?"
"A few times but they backed off," the ensign admitted. "I thought I'd play along until I figured out what was going on and then try to do something about it."
The Neochimp admiral nodded sagely. "Wise, otherwise you would have most likely ended up in a stasis tube again or in a situation you would have regretted."
"I'm already regretting the situation I'm in. I am sorry, sir. Truly I am."
The admiral nodded, noting the imploring look. "Understood. It doesn't make up for what you did, but it's a start. Save the rest for any defense you and your attorney will have to mount though."
"Aye aye, sir," the ensign said quietly.
"Do you have anything left? Anything you haven't told us I mean? Anything that you've thought of since your interviews and never got a chance to bring up? It doesn't matter how small."
The ensign frowned. "We woke up in stasis in their home star system, sir. Like I said, they spoon-fed us their cover story and kept us insulated. I spent a lot of time in the yard working on various projects." He shook his head. "I should have known something was up when I only saw humans!" His mouth writhed in a silent partial curse.
Amadeus nodded again.
"I can tell you they are pulling out all the stops to get ships rebuilt and build new ones. I was consulted a few times on things. They had me use my replicator keys a few times until they were used up."
Amadeus made a note.
"I've got generic keys left. I guess that and my general knowledge was why they shipped us here?" Amadeus cocked his head. "I'm just guessing, sir. They never said much other than that we were needed."
Amadeus nodded. "You go where you are sent."
"Yes, sir."
"All right, Ensign, if you can think of anything else, don't hesitate to let us know."
"I will, sir," the ensign said. He held out his hand. The admiral looked at it and then extended his own. "Good luck, sir. I know they've got a lot of big ships in Horath. They did ask a lot about hyperdrive tech. I just remembered that."
Amadeus nodded and made another note. "Good to know. Keep it up, Ensign."
"Aye aye, sir." The ensign came to attention and saluted. Amadeus returned the salute and then quietly watched the young man depart with mixed feelings.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Commander Briggs limped into the wardroom and nodded to his people. They had long since learned not to pop to attention when he entered. Sometimes he just came in to get the latest dump. Sometimes it was to stretch his gimpy leg and show his face.
The Marines were great, but they were not a formal force. They were scratch built from ship companies that had already been at half strength. They had modern gear though and held the high ground so they were keeping a solid perimeter around the spaceport and cities.
There was still a lot of requests for him to take the governorship. He still refused. He had no intention of being bogged down with that and making himself an open target.
He looked over to Smith 4. The kid was one of his best recon specialists. He had refused to get his hand regenerated, stating it looked better that he didn't have the hand. It was true; the kid had come up with an elaborate story of how he'd lost it to the Feds and was bitter over it. He'd only had to use it once when he'd been stopped by the enemy.
The enemy was being steadily pushed back. Natives who had switched sides were securing some of the cities. Marine patrols were out regularly. He was still focused on the enemy though and their leadership. This "General K" was turning out to be a tougher nut to crack than he'd expected.
"The fight's far from over. It's barely getting started. Don't let your guard down."
Chapter 3
Protodon
Brigadier General Valenko Kodiak received his movement orders to go to Dead Drop in the next convoy when his new command ship arrived. He was to be joined by an army division as well as supporting forces. The other divisions would be invading Dead Drop. His was designated for Garth, though General Pendeckle's Second Division might join him if Dead Drop turned into a dud. "About time." He waved to his staff. "Come come! We have some planning to do."
There was a good-natured groan from some of his staff.
"You have a better idea?" he rumbled. A few heads shook. "Ah, good then. I need the latest intelligence extracts on Dead Drop. Set up a system to draw on them right up until we get underway. I believe there is an ansible in B-95a3 but not another until Dead Drop itself since the navy took the one down in Dd001ns."
"We're going to Dead Drop not SNHH?"
"Aye. SNHH can be bypassed; it seems the powers that be agreed with me finally on that. Dead Drop will be tricky. Garth I hear is a mess. Make sure you draw briefs on both. We may find ourselves moving on to Garth as well."
"Understood, sir."
"Then let's get moving."
He frowned though. He'd gotten his command ship but the cadre was delayed. Pity about that. He might see them catch up and pass his unit in transit or they might follow him in. Hopefully, he'd get to see his old friends soon.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Dead Dro
p
Engineering Commodore I'r'll turned all four of her eye stalks on the planet Dead Drop below. The Horathians hadn't left her much to work with. She'd done what she could in Second Fleet's absence though. A modest orbital industry had replaced what had been scuttled. Three stations were in orbit of the planet. Satellites covered the planet and star system. Her people had just put the finishing touches on a basic repair slip. Their supply of fuel was assured by a trio of gas giant refinery platforms and a fuel depot in orbit of the gas giant. A second was currently being built in orbit of Dead Drop itself.
When the Veraxin finished processing her files she read the report on the battle once more. Garth's infrastructure had been shredded, but there was still a lot left including lunar colonies. A lot of what the Horathians had rebuilt had been taken intact. There were also ships there to rebuild. She decided a move to Garth made sense; it made a better location for a naval base since it was on the frontline. There was nothing much for her to work with in Dead Drop. She got clearance from the Admiralty to change her station and put a call in to the courier that they would have a few extra passengers for their return journey.
-~~~///^\~~~-
First Lieutenant Salim Red read the change of station orders and then sat back heavily. So, that was it. Commodore I'r'll was abandoning Dead Drop to go to Garth and better pickings there. In a way he wished her the best of luck. Unfortunately, it left him and his command rather high and dry.
Oh, they'd still get support, and according to a recent copy of the shipping schedule, General Pendeckle and Colonels Bear and Aberdy were en route with their divisions to relieve him. The army's Sixth and Seventh Divisions were en route as well. General Kodiak and Fourth Division were en route, but they would most likely pass through Dead Drop on their way to Garth. That was good. But it meant he was all alone until the cavalry turned up.