Run the Gauntlet: Echoes of War Book Six

by Gibbs, Daniel

  Much like before, the Tucson skewed to one side as the small vessel’s shuttle bay explosively decompressed into space. Once more, time slowed to an almost imperceptible slog—each tick of the clock bringing the genuine threat of destruction if the Leaguers had any inkling of the ship being in the system.

  “Conn, Navigation, we’re clear.”

  “Shuttle bay secured, sir.” The G-force pressing against them ceased immediately.

  One of the beautiful things about a well-broken-in crew is in a stressful situation, everything works like clockwork because the gears inside their minds fit together. Mancini let out another breath through his mouth. “Navigation, confirm trajectory on my viewer.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  A moment later, the new plot appeared above his head. Now it showed them moving on from the remaining sensor satellites and on a direct course toward the shipyard for a deep passive scan. An enlisted crewman at the front of the control room made the sign of the cross. Yeah, no doubt about it, they should’ve had us. A frown creased Mancini’s face. “Okay. Maybe we’ll get out of this alive.”

  Godat cast a glance at him. “I’m counting on it, sir. I saw my life pass in front of my eyes a few minutes ago and I realized I haven’t dated nearly enough women.”

  The XO’s quip took a second or two to register, but when it did, and more importantly, when Mancini snickered at it, a wave of muted laughter quickly spread. Just the release they needed. For the next two hours, the Tucson coasted in, its forward speed maintained. They passed the League facility at a range of roughly fifty-thousand kilometers, close enough for detailed scans of a low enough power they wouldn’t tip off the enemy.

  It wasn’t until they were on the other side and close to the Lawrence limit that the CO’s speaker crackled to life. “Conn, sensor room.”

  “Sensor room, conn. Go ahead, Chief.”

  “Skipper, I think you better get down here. You’re going to want to see this yourself.”

  * * *

  The last few days had been non-stop waiting for David. The worst kind of days. Waiting allowed for him to get lost in his mind, and even the mind-numbing tasks like good old CDF paperwork weren’t occupying him. Out here for months, there wasn’t a steady stream of personnel changes, Colonel’s Masts, and supply reports to take his mind off the task at hand. He’d thought about recording a vidlink to Angie, but it wouldn’t get back to her until the ship did anyway. So what’s the point? Such was the attitude he brought with him to the bridge of the Lion. It was hidden beneath the mask of command always present on his face. But the ever-present battle within raged as he pondered the cost of his actions and how far he was sliding toward absolute hatred of the League.

  “Conn, TAO. Aspect change, wormhole opening, five thousand kilometers off the port bow,” Ruth called out, interrupting his thoughts.

  It’s either the Tucson, or—

  “Conn, TAO, confirmed CDF signature. CSV Tucson!” Ruth’s voice betrayed the stress they all felt. Even a regular action like a friendly ship jumping in provoked an emotional response as of late.

  David exhaled through his mouth. “Thank God. Communications, please send Major Mancini my compliments and patch in the air boss. I want them inside our hangar within thirty minutes.”

  “Aye aye, sir,” Taylor replied. “Sir, I’ve got an incoming vidlink from Major Mancini.”

  “Put him on my personal viewer.”

  David glanced upward as it came on, and the cramped interior of the stealth raiders' control room popped onto the screen.

  Mancini filled most of the center of the image. “Sorry if we gave you a scare there, General.” He wore a grin.

  It took David a moment to process there was an upside-down broom displayed in such a manner that it was readily visible behind the CO’s and XO’s chairs. “Clean sweep? Getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we, Major?”

  “All mission objectives accomplished, with no compromise of our position. That’s the textbook definition of a fully successful mission justifying the broom, sir.”

  David’s mouth curled up into a grin. Heh. I like this guy; he pushes back for the sake of his crew, even to a flag officer—my kind of commander. “Fair enough. I want to get you guys inside as soon as possible.”

  “Agreed, sir. I know it’s approaching the end of the first watch, but I’d like to brief your senior staff as soon as possible. We’ve got some troubling information out of the sensor sweeps.”

  Of course, it couldn’t be smooth sailing. David frowned, unable to keep the emotion off his face. “I’ll assemble my team. See you in an hour, Major?”

  “That should be more than enough time, sir.”

  “Very well. Oh, and Major? Good job. Color me quite impressed,” David said as he flashed a grin.

  “Thank you, sir. Leaguers never knew we were there. That’s the silent service for you.”

  11

  Less than an hour later, David and the Lion’s command staff were taking their seats in the expansive conference room directly off the bridge on deck one. He’d also requested the presence of General Hale and Aibek, and both had transited from their respective ships. Ruth, Hammond, Calvin, Captain Singh, Hanson, Doctor Tural, and Amir sat down the left side of the table, while Kenneth, Doctor Hayworth, Merriweather, Taylor, and Master Chief Tinetariro were on the right.

  David glanced at the digital clock on the wall, then took the time to make eye contact with each individual. “We’ll get started in a moment, when Major Mancini and the rest of our guests get here.”

  “Want me to send out the Marines to find them, sir?” Calvin asked, his tone jovial.

  “I’m quite sure that won’t be needed, Colonel,” David replied, a smile creeping over his face. Leave it to a Marine to find something funny going on.

  The hatch opened up behind David, causing him to turn and face it.

  Hale and Aibek walked in together, with Mancini right behind. All three came to attention.

  David stood, and as he did, everyone else in the room did as well. I’m still getting used to the formalities. “As you were. Please, take your seats.” As they moved to sit, he reached an arm out toward Aibek. “I’m missing you on the bridge, Colonel.”

  Aibek displayed a toothy grin as he took David’s arm in his, the traditional Saurian style of greeting. “I miss it too.”

  Once everyone had found open chairs, Mancini leaned forward with anticipation.

  “Okay, ladies and gentlemen. The Tucson has spent the last few days reconnoitering our targets. We’ve all been waiting with bated breath, so don’t keep us in suspense any longer, Major. What’d you find?” David asked.

  All eyes focused on Mancini. He seemed to take it in stride, with a cool and calm attitude. “That’s a bit of a loaded question, General. May I make use of your holoprojector?”

  “Go for it.”

  Mancini produced a small data storage device from his uniform pants pocket and slid it into a hookup on the table for such implements. A moment later, a starmap appeared in the room, and he started manipulating it, first to the Gliese system.

  “We’ll start with Gliese 667 C. While it’s a trinary system, the habitable planet orbits the third star. The Tucson executed a ballistic orbital insert, from the solar plane perspective anyway,” Mancini began. A series of dots of different colors started blinking. “The structures represented by the orange dots are standard League orbital defense platforms. They encircle the shipyard complex. Plasma-based anti-ship weaponry, backed by missile cells. Nothing special.”

  That’s good, at least. David adjusted himself in his seat. I’ve yet to see a League defense platform that can withstand our primary armaments.

  “The red ones are something else. Our sensor suite got a great look at them on the way in, and they appear to be fighter bases.” Mancini tapped a control, and the image zoomed in to show a boxy structure with large doors on two sides. “Notice the space doors? We think those are hangar bays.”

  �
�What kind of volume do those stations have, Major?” Amir asked as he frowned.

  “Enough to comfortably hold two thousand small craft each, Colonel.”

  Oh, snap. “Are you certain?” David asked. His eyes bored into Mancini.

  “It’s our sensor department’s best guess, sir. I’d stake my career on what Petty Officer VanDyke comes up with, though. He’s never steered me wrong, and he can pick out different wave patterns on Rand class cruisers.”

  David leaned back in his chair, briefly glancing at the overhead. “Do both star systems have these features, Major?”

  “Yes, sir. I should note that Gliese’s defenders never came close to finding us. The Leaguers in Teegarden are a much more energic bunch,” Mancini said, his lips curling up in a grin as he finished the sentence. “I thought for a minute they might get lucky.”

  “Do we have any information on what weapon systems are mounted, shield strength, or tactical details?” Aibek asked with a slight hiss to his voice.

  “Limited,” Mancini replied. “I can tell you conclusively that those stations are old. Fifty plus years, minimum. But they look, at least from a passive scan, like they’re well taken care of.”

  David cleared his throat. “We must assume they’re mounting the latest League tech, and that any fighters or bombers based off those fighter stations are the best models they have to offer.” The room fell silent, a thick air of tension coating the air. Nervous glances were cast around him and frowns of worry interchanged with anxious lip biting or fidgeting. Fear permeated the room, sparing none—save for two individuals. His lip twitched. I doubt anything could scare Calvin and Singh, though. “Before we proceed, is there anything in your scans to suggest those stations are different from the defense platforms we’ve already engaged, especially in terms of shielding, Major?”

  “I doubt it, sir. They’re ancient and match up to the specifications of installations around invaded League systems.”

  “In that case,” David began, with a glance toward Hale. “We know the Lion’s primary particle beam weaponry cuts through their shields like a hot knife through butter. I like our odds.”

  Amir leaned forward and made eye contact. “I believe you’re missing something, sir.”

  “Enlighten me, Colonel.”

  “Best case scenario, it takes forty-five minutes for the League to get its fighters in space. Worse, if they’re on their A-game, it’s only fifteen.” Amir’s eyes were downcast. “Even with reinforcements from the Ark Royal, I don’t see how we can stand against six thousand enemy craft. They’ll overwhelm us with sheer numbers.”

  “This operation may no longer be viable, General,” Hale interjected.

  Like lasers, everyone turned toward her, and the unspoken challenge to David.

  “I have not come most of the way to Earth to leave without an honorable fight,” Aibek said as he showed his teeth. “Perhaps you have a different option?”

  Time for some out-of-the-box thinking. David stared at the projected orbits of the various planets and defense stations. If only we could get closer to them on the initial jump, but that’s impossible. A lightbulb went off in his mind, and he turned to Hayworth. “Doctor, have you tested jumping an anti-matter powered warship in closer than the Lawrence limit?”

  “No, why would I?” Hayworth replied with a broad smirk. “I don’t have a death wish, and I don’t believe in your magical afterlife. This is the only life I’ve got and I like it.”

  “Humor me, doctor. My understanding of the science is limited—”

  “Of course, it’s limited. You’re a soldier.”

  David glared at him. “I’m not in the mood.” His tone was harsh and direct. “For the last time, would it work?”

  “Probably, General, sir.” Acid was almost dripping out of Hayworth’s mouth by now. “I’d have to run some tests. But, hypothetically, the power generation would offset some of the negative effects and allow us to jump closer in. There’d still be a significant risk of exotic particle release.”

  “Okay,” David began as he turned his attention back to the military officers in the room. “We split the fleet into three elements. The Lion, plus two heavy cruisers, attack the shipyard, while two action groups of two heavy cruisers each take out the nearest fighter stations; then get back in formation and assist with mop-up. After which, we get out while the getting’s good.”

  “Bold, sir,” Aibek said, respect evident in his tone. “What of my command?”

  “You’ll have to jump in at the normal Lawrence limit and transit under max sub-light.”

  The big Saurian looked perturbed not to be a part of the initial battle. He’ll get his chance. We’re all going to get our turn at the Leaguers before this is said and done. “I’ll draw up more formalized plans and distribute them to all ship commanders.”

  “If I may, sir, what of the Ark Royal?” Hale began. “She’s not built for straight-up pummeling of enemy battleships. I have serious misgivings about jumping her into battle, alongside the Lion of Judah, especially if there were unforeseen issues with the Lawrence drive transit.”

  David stared at her for a moment before responding. This kind of talk belongs in private, not in an open staff meeting. The last thing everyone needed to see was two flag officers bickering and second-guessing each other. “The first thought that popped into my mind was moving your fighters and bombers onto the Lion and having the Ark Royal stay behind.”

  “Leaving us defenseless?”

  The first words that came to David’s mind were less than gracious and not something he’d ever say in an open forum. He bit them off in his throat before continuing. “Do you have a point, General Hale?”

  “With respect, sir, perhaps this is a bridge too far. We’re pushing the envelope of the possible, and you’re veering toward outsized risks with the most precious resources in the CDF—our anti-matter powered warships.”

  He seethed under the surface. “I’ll take your position under advisement.” David’s face turned blood red as he spoke. “Until then, have your CAG coordinate with Colonel Amir and determine if we can fit the entirety of your wing into the Lion’s hangar deck.” Before she could open her mouth to respond, he continued. “Moving on to the ground portion of our attack. Colonel Demood, Captain Singh, how go our preparations and training?”

  “Both companies of recon Marines are ready to roll, sir,” Calvin replied. “Absolutely, positively ready to smoke any Leaguers we run into.”

  David couldn’t help but smile. “Glad to hear it, Colonel. Captain Singh, what about the tier-one teams? They’ll be leading the charge.”

  “Yes, sir. We’ve been training extensively in a mock-up of a League destroyer down in the hangar. At this point, I believe it’s a sixty/forty proposition to capture the ship intact, without its crew triggering a self-destruct,” the Sikh commando replied. “It’s going to come down to how dedicated the Leaguers are. My teams are drilled as best as we can possibly be.”

  “It’s too great of a risk.”

  “Enough,” David said as he turned toward Hale.

  “Sir—”

  “Enough.”

  Uncomfortable silence broke out in the room. Officers cast sidelong glances at one another, and the atmosphere became extremely tense.

  Calvin leaned forward and made eye contact with David. “Sir, our personnel know the risk and will do their best. I have no doubt we’ll capture the destroyer and stand ready to execute the rest of this plan.”

  “Thank you, Colonel,” David replied. “Make it clear to your Marines, as well as the commando teams, that this is a volunteer assignment.”

  “Yes, sir.” Calvin sat back as if he was finished, then set his jaw. “Actually, sir, I’ll be leading this one personally. I won’t ask someone to do what I’m not willing to do myself. You mind if I join the op, Captain?” he asked, staring at Singh.

  Singh turned. “Try and keep up.”

  Polite chuckles swept the room, but the tension was still th
ere.

  “Kenneth, you’re the last one on my list. Status of the upgrades?”

  The defense contractor swallowed. “All fighters and bombers are now equipped with the drone tech, sir. We’ve finished the improvements to the Tucson as well. She can handle an extra four hundred personnel.”

  “Yeah, I’d like to see you try finding a place to sleep on my boat with four hundred Marines on it,” Mancini interjected. “To say it’ll be cramped is akin to asking if the Pope is Catholic.”

  “Marines are tough. We’ll manage. You squids better watch out.”

  Mancini didn’t respond, except to grin from ear to ear.

  “Alright, then. We’ve got our action items. I’ll distribute my final attack plan by this evening. Godspeed to you all. Everyone except for General Hale is dismissed.”

  There was the usual rush to the exits, and within thirty seconds, the conference room was cleared, except for the two flag officers. Hale glared at him from her seat. “General Cohen—”

  David cut her off in mid-sentence. “Let’s get something straight here. If you ever question me or this mission in front of my officers and crew again, I’ll have you relieved of command and put your XO in charge. Do I make myself clear?” As he spoke, blood flowed into his cheeks and they grew hot.

  “With respect, sir,” Hale began, folding her arms in front of her chest, “I have a duty to speak up if I feel your battle plan puts my ship and crew at risk.”

  “Which you may do in private at any point in time. Once I give an order, you will follow it.”

  “My orders allow me to withdraw at any point in time, General Cohen. That’s directly from General Okafor.”

  David’s head nearly exploded. So now I’ve got to deal with political backstabbing too? “I wasn’t aware that Okafor existed outside of the chain of command.”

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “President Spencer is the commander-in-chief of the CDF. His orders are clear. Take out the shipyards by any means necessary.” The rush of emotion through David was nearly overwhelming. Anger burned white-hot, and for a moment, all he wanted to do was put his fist through the wall. “That’s what we’re going to do.”