by Allan, Jay
Cain glanced down at his display, confirming what he already knew. His com didn’t have the power to reach the fleet from this deep in the enemy base. The First Imperium metals interfered enormously with transmissions. He turned to face his aides. “Captain Haney, get up to the surface immediately and contact Admiral Garret. Tell him what we found, and advise him that we suspect there is some type of enemy construct either in orbit or nearby that is currently being hidden by a jamming device.”
“Yes, sir.” Haney snapped to attention before turning and walking quickly back the way they had come.
Cain turned to face Hofstader, a deliberative scowl on his face. “So what happens if we destroy this thing?”
“This is appalling.” Sarah Linden had been running around snapping out orders since she’d stepped out of the shuttle. She turned to one of her aides. “Get on the com. I want two mobile field hospitals down here…and I mean now!”
“Yes, colonel.” Captain Roan was Sarah’s newest assistant and, so far, she’d been the best of them all. She quickly relayed the orders to the orbiting hospital fleet.
The plain was covered with wounded, thousands of them. They were being tended by a bunch of medics and six overwhelmed surgeons. Half of them were still in the wreckage of their armor, waiting to be extracted by the single overworked plasma torch crew. At least, she thought, looking out over the twisted heaps of humanity intertwined with machinery, some of their trauma control systems were probably functioning…at least partially.
Sarah had still been assembling Grand Fleet’s medical task force when Compton and Erik and the rest of their people had taken off for the frontier. They may have had the newest and strongest warships with them, but their medical services were woefully inadequate, especially to support a major ground campaign.
Thank God these suits are so good at keeping wounded men and women alive, she thought, or we’d have nothing but a plain full of corpses by now. “Tricia, I need triage teams down here too. At least thirty.”
“Yes, colonel.” Her voice was sharp and crisp. Tricia Roan was proving to be as tireless as her boss. Sarah went through aides quickly, generally burning them out with the workload before moving on to the next. Sarah Linden was calm and pleasant in normal settings, but when there were wounded to care for she was a brutal taskmaster, and she didn’t hesitate to employ her iron fist on anyone who didn’t keep up with her relentless standards. She was as intense in her own way as Cain was in his. Those who knew both of them considered it some kind of bizarre fate they found each other.
It looked like the casualties in the battle had been enormously high. She was shocked to see so many wounded, and stunned to encounter the terrible conditions in the makeshift field hospitals. She’d been able to confirm that Erik hadn’t been killed or wounded, which at least let her put that worry out of her mind. She didn’t want any distractions right now, not even Erik…she was going to give 100% to these wounded Marines. And the Janissaries too. Sarah Linden would treat any wounded soldier, but she made a note to try to assign male doctors to the Caliphate casualties whenever possible. She didn’t approve of the gender roles in the Caliphate, but that wasn’t an argument she intended to have with wounded and dying men on the battlefield.
She wondered briefly about the cultural differences between the Superpowers, how much of it was real…and how much was manufactured, designed to keep soldiers loyal to the state and hating their enemies.
She’d spent weeks working on Commander Farooq after the fighting on Sandoval. The Janissary commander had been horrifically wounded…even Sarah had been sure he was going to die. But she pulled him through somehow, and he expressed nothing but gratitude and kindness to the female doctor who’d saved his life. Ali Khaled, Farooq’s superior, had been equally gracious, sending her a personal note of thanks…as well as an official communique to General Holm, praising her work and awarding her the formal gratitude of the Janissary Corps. Fighting alongside old enemies had taught them all a great deal, she thought…maybe we’ll get the time to figure it all out one day.
“Stop your daydreaming, Linden,” she said to herself. “There’s work to do.” She tapped her comlink. “Tricia…we need plasma torches down here too. I want those on the first shuttle.”
“Get General McDaniels to Colonel Linden.” Catherine Gilson’s voice was firm, commanding. “Immediately.”
McDaniels had taken a pretty bad hit, but Gilson didn’t think it was too dangerous. The Obliterator suit was very tough, and its trauma control system was top notch. Still, she wasn’t taking any chances.
“Yes, general.” Tim Karantz snapped to attention and ran over a small hill to the west. McDaniels’ people had carried her back from the line to a relatively safe spot in a protected ravine. Word had spread quickly through the ranks, the story escalating as it did. First, it simply was news that the general was down...then the reports of her death began to spread. Her Marines were shaken, heartbroken at the word their beloved general had been killed. But there was more than sadness…they were enraged too, and the lust for revenge pushed away the fatigue and the fear. Her lines stopped their retreat and surged back at the enemy, attacking savagely, ignoring their losses. The enemy was momentarily stunned by the ferocity of the advance…and then Gilson’s people hit them on the flank. An imminent First Imperium victory turned rapidly into an ignominious defeat. In less than an hour it evolved from a battle to a hunting expedition, Gilson’s newly arrived forces tracking down the last enemy survivors among the rocks and gullies. There were still a few rogue enemy bots holding out here and there, but Gilson had declared the planet secure.
She’d tried to reach Cain half a dozen times, but it was impossible to force a signal into the depths of the enemy base. Finally, she sent a party inside with orders to find Cain and report. Cain knew the fleet had arrived, but he probably had no idea how the fighting had gone. She knew he had to be sweating what was happening on the surface, especially since he was out of touch. He’d put McDaniels’ brigade – the whole army, really – on the spot so his lighting attack could penetrate into the base. Gilson smiled. It was another brilliant plan…but risky as all hell. No one, she thought, could say Erik Cain didn’t have balls. Though this time, she thought, he might have pushed it too far. Her people had arrived in a nick of time…if they hadn’t…she didn’t want to think of what might have happened to Cain and his forces.
“General Gilson…” Major Horace had been one of the heroes of the campaign on Garrison. He’d been a captain who found himself in command of a brigade before the fighting was done. After the battle, Gilson had promoted him and made him her top aide. “…I have one of General Cain’s people with me.”
She turned. Horace was walking down the hillside to her with a heavyset Marine following him. She read the small nameplate on the aide’s helmet. “Captain Haney, I am glad to see you in one piece.” She walked slowly toward the approaching figures. “How is your boss?”
Haney walked the last few steps toward Gilson and snapped to attention, always a clumsy affair in armor. “He is well, General Gilson.”
“Can you get word to him that we have secured the surface?” She paused, then added, “It will be one less thing for him to worry about.”
“Yes, general. Certainly.” Haney’s tone was distracted, uncomfortable. “But first I have orders from General Cain. I need to report to Admiral Garret and General Holm. Immediately.”
“Admiral, I didn’t expect you to come down here.” Cain was surprised to see Augustus Garret walk into the room. The admiral got around fairly well in powered armor, especially for someone who wasn’t a regular ground pounder. “Don’t you have a fleet to run or something?” It was highly irregular for the fleet admiral to leave his flagship and go down to a planet’s surface. But Cain’s shock quickly faded. He knew Garret well…well enough to realize he shouldn’t have been surprised at all. “Or you, general.” Elias Holm had come in right behind Garret.
“How could I not get a
look at this thing you found?” Garret was standing on the edge of the catwalk, staring at the massive dish. “I’ve got the fleet on full alert, but we’re going to have to figure out what this dish is hiding. Soon.”
“Yes, Dr. Hofstader and I were just discussing ways to…um…disable the device.”
“Well, knowing you, Erik, disable is probably code for chucking a fusion bomb in there.” Holm took a quick glance at his protégé then turned to face Hofstader. “What does the good doctor think?”
Hofstader cleared his throat. “First, general, if I may ask…is General Sparks coming down, sir? I believe his insight would be extremely useful. His experience runs more to practical application than my own.”
“No, Friederich.” Garret answered before Holm did. He turned and looked at the scientist. “Admiral Jacobs has apparently captured an enemy vessel in System X2, and Admiral Compton sent General Sparks to investigate.”
Hofstader took a deep breath and looked over at the alien structure for perhaps half a minute. Finally, he turned back toward his companions. “If I must reach my own determination then I believe my thoughts are very similar to those you ascribe to General Cain, though I might suggest we stop short of a nuclear detonation.” He took another breath before continuing. “We do not have time to analyze this device, seek a way to deactivate it.” Another pause, longer this time. “We have to disable or destroy it. Immediately.”
Garret nodded. “Unless there is another way to determine what this thing is screening, I am in full agreement.” He looked over at Holm, then Cain. “It’s just too big of a risk to leave it hidden.” He turned to face Hofstader. “Do you think you can disable the dish, Friederich? Without nuking it, I mean.”
Hofstader didn’t answer right away. He turned back toward the edge of the catwalk and stared at the massive structure. “Yes, I think so.” He continued looking out over the room. “Actually destroying it would be quite difficult…at least without employing weapons of power very close to a nuclear warhead.” He turned back to face his companions. “But the power leads must be located underneath…and it is likely we can sever those far more easily than we could wreck the actual structure.”
Garret stood still, staring at the ground for a few seconds before he looked up at Hofstader. “Do it.” He glanced over at Holm, who was nodding his agreement. “Erik, can you see that Dr. Hofstader has everything he needs? I know your people are in rough shape and low on supplies, but General Gilson has two fresh brigades onplanet now. They are at your disposal.”
“Yes, sir.” Cain looked over at Hofstader. “Friederich and I will see it done, admiral.”
Chapter 28
Bridge – AS Midway
System X2
75,000,000 Kilometers from X3 Gate
“All laser buoys fire!” Compton’s voice reverberated across the flag bridge. He’d been waiting, watching for just the right moment. The enemy had been in range for several minutes, but he wanted them to get closer. The x-ray lasers were hard-hitting even at long range, but they were extremely powerful against close in targets.
Compton had followed the enemy closely on his scanners, looking for any indication they’d detected his buoys. He was ready to fire immediately at the slightest indication of evasive maneuvers, but the First Imperium fleet maintained its course straight for his ships. Directly toward the waiting laser buoys.
“Issuing fire order now, sir.” Max Harmon sounded relieved. He was an experienced officer and a strong tactician, but he didn’t have Compton’s cool patience under fire. He’d have fired already if he’d been in command.
The signal took 5 seconds to reach the buoys. Their tracking systems had been constantly updating data feeds, maintaining fire locks on the optimum targets. Now, as one, 250 atomic bombs exploded. The immense energy released by each of them was contained, for a brief fraction of a second, by strong magnetic fields that directed it into the lasing mechanisms. Enormously powerful beams of focused x-rays lanced out, invisible fingers of death traveling at lightspeed, reaching their targets in a fraction of a second.
The two Leviathans were heavily targeted, and each one was buffeted with multiple blasts. The dark-matter infused hulls were highly resistant to normal laser fire, but the bomb-pumped x-rays tore into them and penetrated deeply into their interiors. The actual damage caused by each shot varied with the systems that were hit. Some ripped into non-critical areas of the ships, inflicting only minor damage. Others tore into vital sectors, causing secondary explosions and rupturing internal conduits and systems. Gasses and liquids spewed into space from the worst hit areas, freezing almost instantaneously as they hit the frigid vacuum.
The buoys had been programmed to prioritize the Leviathans, but the algorithms directing the AIs were complex. A platform with a significantly better shot at a Gargoyle targeted the smaller vessel instead, and a dozen of the mid-sized enemy ships were bracketed with fire. Five were hit by multiple shots and destroyed outright, and the rest suffered varying degrees of damage.
Compton leaned back in the chair, watching the damage reports scroll across his screen. Max Harmon was giving him verbal updates, but he wasn’t really listening. His mind was calculating, adding up the damage inflicted and comparing it to his expectations. He was silent except for a quiet sigh. The buoys had done fairly well, but they hadn’t been quite as effective as he’d hoped. He had really expected to take out one of the Leviathans completely, but they were both there, damaged certainly, but still moving toward his waiting ships.
“We’ve got to stop underestimating these guys.” He was whispering, his voice barely audible. “We have to remember how far ahead of us they are, how tough their ships can be.” His people had done an extraordinary job so far…but there was still a hell of a fight ahead.
“Let’s go.” Greta Hurley was terrorizing the flight deck. “I want those plasma torpedoes double loaded. All of them.”
The maintenance crews were frantically refueling and reloading her bombers. The same scene was being repeated on every capital ship of the fleet. Hurley was harassing the crews of the other vessels over the com, which would have been marginally less intimidating if her promise to fly over to any ship that lagged and shoot the crew chief hadn’t been so convincing.
“Sorry, admiral.” Commander Simmons was the flight deck leader. “We can’t move too quickly with these double shotted torpedoes. They’re too volatile.”
The overpowered plasma torpedoes were something she’d invented, or at least a modification she’d asked her tech crew to make. The gas that would be superheated into plasma was compressed at much higher pressure. More gas produced a larger, more damaging plasma. But the gasses were under so much pressure, the containment vessels bordered on unstable. Dropping one could easily cause an explosion. The nuke wouldn’t detonate, and there would be no plasma, but it could still put a large section of the launch bay out of commission.
“Would you prefer to wait until the enemy particle accelerators tear this flight deck into scrap metal…along with the rest of Midway?” Hurley knew the deck commander was right, but she wasn’t in the mood for excuses. She’d lost a quarter of her people in the first strike, and now she was taking them right back out. The least the support crews could do was load these damned torpedoes.
Midway had a fair amount of damage, but at least both flight decks were more or less intact. If she kicked a few asses she might get her birds back out in another 15 minutes. That required ignoring virtually every safety protocol, but she’d always been convinced those directives were written by desk jockeys anyway, fools who’d never been within ten lightyears of a real battle. Her people were the best, she’d always felt that way. Now they’d get a chance to prove it.
Hurley had reorganized her wings. She left any squadron over half strength the way it was. But she had a good number weaker than that, and three that were down to their last bomber. She combined those to make functional formations, trying to disrupt her chains of command as little as possib
le.
“Greta, can you give me an estimate on your readiness?”
She’d been leaning over a workstation reviewing her revised OB, but she straightened up and tapped the com. “Yes, Admiral Compton.” She paused, just for an instant, trying to decide if her timing was realistic. “We’ll be ready to launch in 15 minutes, sir.”
Compton’s first response was barely above a whisper, and she pretended not to hear it. “I have a pretty good idea how many complaints I’m going to be getting from the flight crews.” He didn’t laugh, not exactly. There wasn’t time for that. But he was clearly amused…and pleased. “Greta, I’d say I’m surprised, but I shouldn’t be by now, should I?” He took a quick breath and added, “Good job, Admiral Hurley.”
“Thank you, sir.” Hurley wasn’t an officer who cared much for medals or honors, but the approval of a leader like Compton meant more to her than any other rewards. “We’ll do our best for you, sir.”
“I know you will, Greta. Don’t let me keep you. Carry on.”
She turned and looked out over the deck, panning her eyes from ship to ship. Her mood was still foul and impatient, but she was having trouble forcing the smile off her face. Praise from Compton was a rare and precious thing. Not quite as rare as a pat on the back from Admiral Garret, perhaps, but close.
“Let’s get moving.” She shouted across the deck instead of using the com. “We’re launching in 14 minutes.” There was no way Greta Hurley was going to let Admiral Garret down…no matter how hard she had to push her people.
Jaguar shook hard, rolling and pitching wildly until her maneuvering thrusters righted the ship. The particle accelerator had barely clipped her aft. The damage wasn’t severe, but she’d lost some of her oxygen, and the blowout into space had given her the roll.
“Get us back on vector, Lieutenant Barrat.” Duke’s voice was worn and raw from the smoke permeating the ventilation system. The AI would have cleared the impurities from Jaguar’s life support, but the scrubbers were damaged and operating on sharply reduced power.