by Rob Howell
“I don’t know, sir. We’ve been wondering the same thing. Whatever the reason, there’s a Type Two out there somewhere, but she went dark when we did, and we haven’t seen her transit out of the Maquon system. My guess is whoever she is has been watching you since you came through the stargate.”
“That’s a good guess,” agreed Christopher. “Do the Zuul know your location?”
“I don’t think so, but whoever’s in charge over there knows what they’re doing.”
“So we should assume they do.”
Gonzalez tapped his screen. “I suggest you follow this course south of the ecliptic and try to find an empty spot in space. If the Type Two sees you, maybe she’ll follow you and we can get into her six.”
“Makes sense,” agreed Edmonds.
“The Cabot transited with us,” added Christopher.
“I wondered. We knew you couldn’t fit Alfa and Bravo companies into the Huron, not with their CASPers and logistical support.”
“You’re absolutely right. Fortunately, the Cabot has a legitimate contract on Maquon.”
“Good. Tell her crew to proceed normally but not to go anywhere near Jeriasker.”
“They’re scheduled to drop their legitimate cargo in Maqasker.”
“Good, that’s on a different continent. They should be safe, unless the Zuul know they’ve been hired by you. We saw several Human freighters come and go without a problem while we were close to the planet.”
“There’s nothing on her manifest that connects them to us.” Edmonds’ voice took a wry twist. “Cost a bit extra, but it was worth it.”
“Agreed. If they don’t strain her engines and take their time offloading the cargo, we’ll have a couple of extra days to dance about out here and figure out something.”
“Yes,” agreed Edmonds. “I’ll pass that on. We’ve got every extra shuttle we could scrounge on the Cabot. The longer flight times will be a nuisance, but they won’t be an insurmountable problem.”
“Good, that’ll help during the assault.”
“I see why you want them away from our Jeriasker offloading spot,” added Christopher. “I’m looking at the arrangement of the Zuparti ships.”
“I have good news about that.” Gonzalez sent him a diagram of the Zuparti movements and the results of the program he had been studying. “I have an idea. I couldn’t figure out how to execute it with just the Algonquin, but with the Huron as well, I think we have a chance. I’m sending it to you now.”
The conversation paused as they digested the data.
“That’s an audacious plan, Captain Gonzalez.”
“It is, sir. I’m glad you’re here to make the decision. It’s your company. Given the consequences, a 0.72 percent chance of hitting the planet from over ten miles is nerve-wracking. Not to mention fighting seven ships.”
“Agreed. Christopher and I will crunch the numbers and double-check your parameters, while we see if we can trap that Type Two.”
“Thank you, sir. We’ve got plenty of time before getting close to Maquon, sir.”
“Once we can get troops to the surface, what’ll we do? That’s a question, too, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir, it is. Captain Pedersen has some ideas. They’re in your packet.”
“Very good. Before we do anything, I expect you and Christopher to arrange a decent planning session without this damn four minute lag. We’ll have to be close to the Cabot, because they’ve got all of Bravo and the sappers, so it might take some maneuvering.”
“We can make that happen after we clear our baffles.”
“Excellent. Tell Pedersen we’ll discuss his plans then.”
“Can do, sir.”
“This will take all of our tenacity, and it won’t hurt to use our versatility. Tell Pedersen to think outside the box. We’ll do the same and compare notes. These doggies have been very bad, and I plan to rub their noses in their shit.”
* * * * *
Chapter 33 – Col. Roosevelt Edmonds
EMS Huron
Maquon System
The two Fletcher-class destroyers cut through the endless night only ten klicks apart and five light-seconds under the ecliptic. The Cabot cruised toward Maquon above them on the ecliptic, taking the direct route merchies usually chose.
In the Huron’s briefing room sat Colonel Edmonds, his chief of staff, Major Mike Sheridan, Captain Kieran Forsberg, commander of Alfa Company, and Captain Pal Kjetil, commander of the regimental sappers. On the Algonquin, Wainwright, Pedersen, and Delta Company’s lieutenants joined Gonzalez in his briefing room. On the Cabot, Captain Jim Helman and Rick Blaine sat in a stateroom set aside for them. Tri-V comms linked them all with only a little delay for those on the Cabot.
“Good, we’re all here,” said Edmonds. “First, I want to thank all of you. We face an uphill climb but there are none I’d rather have helping me ascend the mountain.”
“Thank you, sir,” replied several voices.
“We’ve little time to waste, so let’s get started.” Edmonds looked at Pedersen. “Captain, give me your honest appraisal of Delta Company.”
“The fire teams are shaking out as well as can be expected without live training. Sims can only go so far. However, they’re not experienced enough with platoon and company maneuvers.”
“But you created Delta Company anyway.”
“Yes, sir. If we hadn’t done something, they wouldn’t have any experience.”
“You of all people realize the paperwork this will cause when we get through this. And, dammit, you’re my best paperwork weenie. I think you should’ve been a little more considerate.”
Pedersen laughed. “I’ll remember that, assuming you don’t put me at the wrong end of a firing squad.”
“Do that.” Edmonds smiled. “I understand the limitations. Are you prepared to lead them?”
“Tenacious and versatile, sir!”
“Tenacious and versatile,” rumbled the other officers.
“Good. How can we best use them?”
Pedersen glanced down at the table. Finally he sighed. “They’re brave, and they’ll fight. But they’re no match for Alfa or Bravo.”
“I’m not surprised. They’re new recruits, intended to be replacements. That doesn’t answer my question, though. What’s the best tactical use of Delta?”
With a sigh, Pedersen answered, “Use them as your assault company. Landing in drop pods will fuck up most unit cohesion. The Foresters haven’t done a hot assault in years, and that’s what we’ve been working on. We’re no worse doing that than Alfa or Bravo. Might even be better.”
He looked down at his hands. “You have a better chance of succeeding if my men, if Delta Company, takes those losses and opens the way for the rest.”
Edmonds considered that. “How do you suggest we land them?”
“We’ve been working on high-altitude drop assaults since day one. In the last couple of weeks, while sitting way out here, we’ve had a chance to train outside the ship. We’re competent. If we can gain control of the space around the planet, we can seed the sky with decoys and drop them high. Send Alfa and Bravo in the dropships once we’ve opened a beachhead.”
“Let’s put aside the question of whether we can control Maquon’s orbit and assume the Zuul have SAM launchers and laser batteries on the base. Even with decoys, Delta Company would take a ton of casualties.”
“They’d also take the base.”
Edmonds thought about it for a moment, then looked at Major Sheridan. “What do you think?”
“Pedersen is right. Delta could probably take the base. However, they’ll be destroyed, especially since they’re an ad hoc company. And,” he paused, “I don’t know how we can do this without significant civilian casualties. They own the airspace. If we’re going to land on our main base, there’s going to be anti-air artillery. Even if Delta opens a beachhead, they’re not going to prevent us from losing some dropships. Drop pods with troopers in CASPers falling on Jeriasker will be b
ad enough, but I shudder to think about a fully loaded shuttle hitting a neighborhood.”
“Unacceptable.”
“Sir—” started Pedersen.
“We aren’t going to risk the people of Jeriasker. We can’t land a dropship on a populated area. There may be civilian casualties, but we’re going to do everything we can to avoid them. Got it?”
The company officers nodded.
“Sir, I believe in Delta Company, but we can’t make a drop and clear the base without Alfa and Bravo supporting us.”
“No, you can’t. Not even if they were fully-trained, up to strength, and the most experienced troopers we’ve ever had.”
“To sum it up, sir,” interjected Sheridan. “All we have to do is maneuver Algonquin and Huron into orbit over Maquon quietly enough to make full shuttle landings despite multiple enemy warships. Then we have to get one untrained and two understrength companies onto the planet, in fighting order, without risking the Maquonese civilian population. Then we have to get past the new defenses the Zuul have added to ours at Maquon Base. Meanwhile, up here, our two destroyers will be outnumbered and fighting to control the orbitals. And, we have to do all of this quickly, so we can send help to Peninnah before follow-up attacks push the Hilden off the planet.”
“And we have to find out what the Zuul want,” added Edmonds.
“And that, sir. Definitely that. What’s your idea, sir?”
“We land somewhere else,” said Edmonds. “I figured we might have to. I spent most of the trip here trying to figure out the best LZ. I appreciate your willingness to lead Delta into hell, Captain Pedersen, but I’m not going to throw them away without good reason.”
“Where can we land?” asked Pedersen. “I’ve been studying this problem for a couple of months, and I’m out of ideas.”
“You did fine, Captain. But you didn’t have as much data as I do.” He gestured to Captain Gonzalez. “Eric, I looked at your thoughts. I think you’re onto something. We’ve been poking at your assumptions and tweaking them a bit, but your core idea is excellent. Captain Christopher, if you’ll describe how we plan to gain control of Maquonese orbital space.”
Christopher nodded and keyed a sequence on his pad. “You said there were seven Zuparti tracks, with a possible eighth, right?”
“Yes. They have several patrol vectors, and they occasionally switch which ship is in which vector.”
“But they always have four ships around Jeriasker?”
“At least, sometimes five, occasionally six. One of the seven, at any given time, is resupplying at the space station over Maqasker.”
“Assuming they stay in those patterns, we’ll have some idea where they’re supposed to be. After this meeting, you’ll head here.” Christopher highlighted a spot. “When we get to our start positions, we should be able to confirm which of the tracks are currently occupied, even from two light minutes out. Once we have confirmed the tracks, we can choose our optimal approach vectors.”
“Got it.”
“You’ll be responsible for these four Zuparti freighter tracks.” He highlighted them on the display. “The Huron will deal with the others. You’re going to do a slow burn at your optimal vector from your starting point. At no less than ten light seconds away from Maquon, you’ll launch missiles on attack vectors that have the smallest chance of collateral damage.”
Colonel Edmonds leaned forward. “You’re authorized to take any shot that has no more than a one percent chance of hitting the planet or the moon.”
Gonzalez blew out his breath. “That’s a higher percentage than I’m comfortable with.”
“Agreed. But I think comfort has gone out the window. I expect you to choose a lower risk if you can, but that’s your maximum.”
“Understood.”
“We’re sending over a list of possible vectors that might allow a safe launch. However, you might see better options once you’re there, so don’t consider these exhaustive.”
Gonzalez studied them. “You were always sneakier than me, Captain Christopher.”
“Why thank you. But I have to give the colonel credit for some of it.”
“I’ve trained you to be efficient. To think about the cost. Missiles aren’t cheap, and your instinct will be to limit their usage.” Edmonds shook his head. “This isn’t the time to worry about expendable munitions.”
“We only have ten missiles in our magazines, plus those on the external racks, sir,” pointed out Gonzalez.
“I know you only have one full reload. Christopher has two. Be prepared to use them. If the Zuul haven’t destroyed them, we’ve got more missiles on Maquon. Also, I loaded the thirty spare shipkillers we had on Earth into the Cabot. Basically, we resupply if we win, so we’d better damn win.”
“Agreed.”
“I want you to flush both of your five-round racks in the initial run. Kill those damn weasels. Then you’ll follow them in. You should have time to reload the racks before the missiles strike. That’ll give you a chance against whatever’s left.”
“You’re sure we shouldn’t give them warning?”
Edmonds’ eyes turned harder than any of his officers had ever seen. “Captain Gonzalez, did you read the report from Cimaron 283133-6A and Peninnah?”
“Yes, sir.”
“For some reason, the Zuparti and Zuul have declared war on us. I don’t know why, but that doesn’t really matter.” A grim smile graced his face, and his eyes held theirs. “The core of the Foresters is Canadian. People wondered about that when Old George formed this unit because the Canadian Army was nothing but a shell at the time. We had no money for maintenance or training. Couldn’t even run live fire exercises. Sam Steele’s ghost watched as we faded away.”
The other officers held their breaths.
“But that was just the equipment. The people who wondered about Old George’s sanity forgot, or likely never knew, what a people we once were. What was still in us, though it had gone dormant. The original Foresters were those who still had that spark in them. The same spark that kept us fighting in crappy ships against the best subs and sub commanders in the world in the North Atlantic. The same spark that saw our ancestors land on Juno Beach nearly two hundred years ago. The same spark that saw hundreds of kids sign up to fight in trenches raked by machine guns and covered in mustard gas.”
He glanced at his officers.
“You’ve seen the pictures. We display them in every building we own. And not all of those kids were eighteen. Who could deny the ones everyone knew were fourteen or younger their right to fight the Great War? So, they assigned them to the Forestry Corps. My great-something uncle was one of those kids. The generals tried to shield them. Made them cut trees and such for trenches. They did the grunt work, so the ones who were eighteen could die instead.”
Edmonds took a deep breath.
“But those kids heard the guns. They carried the dead. They were at the Somme. At Passchendaele. At Amiens. They stepped up at every opportunity, despite their age, and their foes remembered them. That’s the spark that’s always been a part of us Canadians. We have never wanted to fight, but we won’t back down when you challenge us. Those who want to challenge us must now be taught a lesson. It won’t be an easy lesson, but Canada was never an easy place. It’s time for the Galactic Union to learn that.”
The colonel turned to Gonzalez. “So, no. We’ll not warn them. They started this, and now, we’ll teach them about our soul.” He stared at each officer. “Do any of you have a problem with that?”
They shook their heads.
“Good.” He took a deep breath.
After a long moment, Christopher spoke up. “Once we launch, we’ll reload our racks and alter our vectors to pass on these two flight paths.” The captain of the Huron highlighted two curving arrows over Maquon Base.
“Then we’ll release most of our decoys and all of our drop pods. We’ll also toss out all the chaff we’ve got.” Edmonds grinned. “I may even have the cooks toss out their
ladles and all the silverware.”
“But sir, I thought you said we couldn’t do a high-altitude drop?” interjected Pedersen.
“You’re right. I did say that. However, they don’t know that, and that’s probably what they’re expecting, especially since we’ll come blazing in.”
Blaine spoke up from the Cabot. “I can make sure their active sensors have some extra challenges. I can’t break past their security, but I can babble in their ears enough to slow them down.”
“That’ll help, Mr. Blaine.”
“What about casualties?” asked Pedersen.
“What casualties?”
“Their lasers and SAMs are going to rip through those drop pods.” Pedersen looked pugnacious.
“Yes, they will.” Edmonds smiled. “You’re assuming those pods will have troopers in them. They won’t. We won’t lose any troops, and while a good amount of debris might fall on Jeriasker, it won’t be large and explosive.”
“It’s still likely civilians will get hurt,” pointed out Sheridan.
“Yes, but not as many as if a dropship crashed into a neighborhood.”
“True.”
Edmonds looked around. “As you all know, we haven’t dropped into a hot LZ using drop pods or dropships in decades. We’re not Cartwright’s Cavaliers. We’re sneaky bastards who like creeping around.”
The officers chuckled.
Edmonds hit another button, and the arrows shifted. “After three minutes, the airspace will be chaotic, especially with Blaine’s help. We’ll launch our dropships and shuttles as stealthily as we can.”
Edmonds pressed a couple more buttons on the desk display, and Maquon appeared on the screen. The display narrowed from orbit to a muddy point on the coastline and a manufacturing setup with several large, industrial tanks. “We’re going to land here.”
“Sir?”
“Yes, Captain Pedersen?”
“Isn’t that where the Jeria River empties into the ocean?”
“Very good, Captain.”
“That’s at least three hundred klicks from Jeriasker.”