by PP Corcoran
Chris couldn’t move his wide eyes from the macabre spectacle. The man, pinned to the forest floor, machine pistol still gripped in his hands, the K’Tai, propped up by his rifle, hanging lifeless like a puppet that had its strings cut. Jodee pushed at her brother, trying to get him off her. The action caused Chris to stir from his shock; taking a deep breath, he got to his feet, holding a hand out to his sister to help her up.
“Grab their guns,” Jodee said unhesitatingly. Fighting back the urge to cringe, she raised one leg and shoved the dead K’Tai over, his body falling to the forest floor with a subdued thump. The sight of the bloodstained corpse of the man brought a fluttering feeling to Jodee’s stomach, bile rising in her throat as the man’s unseeing eyes stared up at her. Grasping the K’Tai’s pulse rifle, in both hands Jodee braced herself and heaved. With a sickening sucking sound, the long blade came free of the militiaman's chest. Jodee gave the rifle a quick once-over. It may have been designed specifically for a K’Tai, but the aliens retained the same basic form as a human. Two arms, two legs and fingers, so the component parts of the weapon, though in somewhat larger proportion, were close enough to its human counterpart that Jodee should be able to operate it.
Taking this as his cue, Chris retrieved the militiaman's machine pistol, weighing it up in his hands before slipping the clip out. It was empty. Throwing the weapon’s sling over one shoulder, Chris tried not to look at the dead man’s face as he searched for fresh ammo clips. Patting down the corpse, Chris felt his hands getting sticky with warm blood. Steeling himself, he continued his search, finding what he was looking for. The militiaman's belt had an integrated holster for the machine pistol on one side and pouches with fresh clips on the other. Chris reached down to unbuckle the belt, but his bloodied hands slipped on the plastic. Chris wiped his hands on the grass, staining its pristine green beauty with two bright red splodges. Hurriedly, he got the belt and holster off the dead man, slipping it around his own waist and adjusting it to fit.
From the same direction that they had first heard firing, heavy footsteps approached, then a shouted word in a language that was not League standard English. Jodee put a finger to her lips, telling Chris to be quiet, before she headed off at an angle away from the oncoming noise, melting into the forest leaving the K’Tai behind.
After a few minutes, Jodee panted to a halt. Chris failed to notice his sister had stopped moving until the very last moment; twisting to one side, he bounced off a large tree trunk, ending up on his ass among a stand of leafy ferns. The thick forest had without warning come to an end. Instead a narrow, hard core road lay in front of them. Jodee activated the map on her wrist comm. The farm with the supplies they so badly needed was only a few hundred meters away, could they risk it? How quickly could they locate the emergency food and water? Jodee was still pondering her decision when a pair of K’Tai, pulse rifles loosely held in their hands, black armor giving them the look of giant shadows, emerged from the trees only a few scant meters from where Jodee and Chris were. Fearing Chris had not seen the K’Tai yet and was going to make a noise and give away their location, Jodee slapped a flat hand across his mouth, which elicited a mumbled protest. A protest which died in his throat as the K’Tai walked past their hiding place, close enough that Chris could have reached out and touched them.
A high-pitched whining pierced the peacefulness of the forest, a sound recognizable to anyone who lived in modern society: the sound made by the repulsors of a flitter. Said machine came barreling around a corner of the narrow track. Both K’Tai raised their pulse rifles to fire. For once any indecision Jodee might have had about what to do next was washed away. Without hesitation, she raised her pulse rifle, centering the targeting bead on the closest K’Tai, and unthinkingly, Jodee’s finger pulled back on the trigger. Phttttt. A lethal stream of supersonic flechettes punched into the back of the K’Tai soldier. He was dead before his brain registered the burning pain of the slivers of metal scythed through him.
With the lightning reactions of a trained warrior, the second K’Tai rolled sideways away from his stricken comrade, coming up on one knee, rifle swinging around to zero in on his comrades’ killer. Bratatat! The impact of the machine pistol rounds from Chris’ weapon knocked the K’Tai sideways, rifle falling from his now lifeless grip.
The flitter shuddered to a halt, a mixture of dust and stones pelting Jodee and Chris, forcing them to close their eyes to protect them from the choking dust. As the dust settled, the canopy of the driver’s side popped open to reveal the snout of an ugly tri-barrel.
“You militia?” asked a loud toneless voice.
At the sound of the human voice, Chris lowered his weapon, holding it out to one side while he took slow steps toward the flitter, hoping the owner of the tri-barrel would see he meant no harm. “No. Just trying to get to our family’s cabin over by Kelso.”
“The Kelso district is a fair way from here. You planning on traveling on foot the whole way?”
“We were hoping to get some supplies from the farm up the road from here…” Chris indicated the dead K’Tai. “Looks like these guys were headed there as well. We came across one of them back in the forest chasing a militiaman. Killed him before we could help.” Chris had got close enough now that he could see into the passenger compartment of the flitter. A slightly overweight white man in his sixties sat behind the vehicle’s controls, the tri-barrel resting casually on the canopy’s frame. A movement behind the man drew Chris’ eyes and an eyebrow raised in astonishment as two ethnic Asian children who couldn’t have been more than six or seven years of age peeked their heads out from below a large blanket.
A frown appeared on the older man’s forehead and he tugged at an ear in thought. “Well, if they were headed up that way, you can bet they were looking for something. My guess is they’re hunting down any militia that managed to escape from the city. When they don’t report in, their friends will come looking for them. We need to get well clear of this area. Maybe head out over the pass and see if we can find somewhere to hold up on the Cimaron Plain.”
“Well, if you would be willing to give us a ride,” interjected Jodee, “there would be plenty of room at the cabin for all of us. I’m sure Mom and Dad wouldn’t mind. And it would save us a long walk.”
A few more tugs at his ear, then the tri-barrel swung up and away as the side door of the flitter eased open. “I suppose if we stuck to the back roads we could be in Kelso by tomorrow morning… OK, you have a deal. Jacob Levin’s the name and those two squirreled away behind me are Lin and Shen.”
“Good to meet you, Mr. Levin. I’m Chris Carter, and this is my sister Jodee.”
Introductions over, Jodee and Chris climbed into the flitter. Jacob resealed the canopy, applied power to the repulsors, and the flitter moved off down the narrow road.
#
Ten minutes later, with no reply from the squad sent to search the area for militia stragglers, a K’Tai drone tasked to overfly the area relayed images of the two dead Black Legion soldiers back to the Legion’s temporary headquarters within the confines of the Gemini City spaceport. The duty officer immediately dispatched the Ready Reaction Force to the area while requesting aero fighter support. This was the fourth time today that the officer had been forced to dispatch the RRF. Did these humans not know when they were beaten?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Call to Arms
DAY SIX
Fleet Naval Station Normandy hung like a bright, shining star in the center of its own miniature constellation, a constantly moving constellation of shuttles and freighters plowing back and forth between Normandy, the units of Eighth Battle Fleet in their assigned assembly areas, and the system and sector capital of Doberman some 400,000 kilometers distant.
The atmosphere in Admiral Christina Helbrunn’s private briefing room was one of tense expectation. Subdued lighting reflected off the conference table’s metal top and from the various status boards and displays spread around the room, illuminating the three navy
admirals, an army general and a brigadier of marines. Outwardly all was calm, but each felt the same uneasiness gnaw at them, despite their seniority and experience. At the rear of the room a very self-conscious lieutenant commander in her best uniform tried desperately to do an impression of a bulkhead.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” began Admiral Helbrunn, the senior officer of the Doberman sector and commander of Eighth Battle Fleet, from her place at a small lectern at the head of the table. “It appears our friendly neighbors across the border have decided to seize and hold the planet Agate, its population and the largest deposits of Redlazore yet discovered in human space.” Helbrunn took in her fellow officers. These were intelligent men and women, there was no way to sugarcoat what was coming next. “As of zero eight hundred hours Earth Standard Time this morning, I initiated General Order Fourteen.” Helbrunn paused for the half-expected cries of protest. It said volumes about the professionalism of the room’s occupants that their only reaction to Helbrunn’s order was a handful of nods of agreement. General Order Fourteen stipulated that all leave was canceled and military personnel were to return to their duty posts immediately. All merchant shipping was to remain in port and not to set sail for any destination without clearance from the local naval senior officer. All Border Patrol vessels were now subordinate to the orders of Battle Fleet and, more ominously, General Order Fourteen required all command-level officers to take whatever steps they deemed necessary to ensure the security of their command, up to and including the use of lethal force without warning. Effectively the Doberman sector was on a war footing.
“We have all been keeping up with the classified briefing packets concerning the ongoing trade negotiations with the K’Tai to allow the League greater access to their stockpiles of Redlazore, and we all know how the K’Tai have reacted to the discovery of the massive reserves on Agate, which wiped out their negotiating position of strength virtually overnight. The powers that be had decided in their infinite wisdom to continue the talks with the K’Tai but expand the scope of the negotiations to include general trade agreements as well. Everything appeared to be going well, trade deals were being made, and for the first time since we encountered the Imperium, they appeared to be treating us as equals.” Helbrunn felt her fingers ball into fists and her cheeks heat with anger as the depth of the K’Tai deceit was revealed. Forcing any sign of emotion from her voice, she continued. “That was until two weeks ago. Without a word of explanation, the entire K’Tai delegation simply upped sticks and headed back to the Imperium. Now we know why.” This time Helbrunn did allow some of her anger to enter her voice. “Their invasion fleet was already on its way to Agate. They timed their withdrawal from the negotiations to coincide exactly with the arrival of their fleet. While we had been negotiating in good faith, they had been planning on seizing Agate all along.” Helbrunn paused for a moment as she scanned the room. “To put it plainly, people, we were royally screwed.” A few grunts of acknowledgment emanated from the assembled officers. “The question now, however, is what will be the League’s response? I have no need to tell you that a general war with the K’Tai Imperium is something which Battle Fleet has been hoping could be avoided. By our best estimate, the Imperium’s navy outnumbers us in virtually every class of warship, but on the bright side…” A wicked grin split the admiral’s face. “We know that the Imperium is having its own problems and we…” She looked around the table, and saw her feral hunger for revenge reflected in the gathered faces. “… are going to exploit these problems. They took Agate so they could get the Redlazore, and I intend to make them pay an unacceptable price for every tonne of it that they manage to get home. Until I receive orders to the contrary, I intend to launch repeated raids into the Agate system. The intention is not to engage the K’Tai in face to face combat; until we know the extent of the enemy’s expansion plans, I cannot afford to move a single heavy unit away from Doberman. If Doberman was to fall, then the enemy would be a step closer to the Core Worlds, and we simply cannot allow that to happen. No, ladies and gentlemen, what I envisage is a small but lethal raiding force whose aim will be to interdict every enemy supply convoy attempting to enter or leave the Agate system.”
“Like the German wolf packs in the Atlantic during World War Two?” interjected Rear Admiral Robert Matheson. Helbrunn jabbed a finger in his direction.
“Exactly, Robert. I want to make it so the enemy loses so many ships for so little Redlazore that he begins to think that remaining on Agate is no longer a viable proposition.” Helbrunn nodded toward Louise Alderman; the Border Patrol admiral had been surprised to be invited to this meeting after her perceived shame in giving up Agate without even a shot being fired by her cruisers. “Luckily for us, Admiral Alderman had the forethought to leave a few picket ships loitering around the edge of the system. The enemy have tried to chase them off, but so far, without any success. As soon as the enemy get too close, the pickets retreat into hyper, then re-emerge well clear of the Agate system before heading back in.” This time Helbrunn turned and held the Border Patrol admiral’s gaze. “It must be a terrible strain on your crews, Louise, but it goes a long way to highlight their courage and professionalism that you are responsible in no small part for.”
Alderman cheeks flushed at the senior admiral’s compliment, more so when the others around the table nodded their heads in agreement. The self-doubt that had been gnawing at her on the long flight to Doberman evaporated as she realized that perhaps she had done the right thing by withdrawing her cruisers after all. At least the officers here seemed to agree with her decision. Her musing was cut short by a question by the army general.
“And what of the civilian population, Admiral? We have no idea what is happening to the eight million hostages. For all we know, for every enemy ship that your raids destroy, they may decide to take reprisals against them.”
Helbrunn leaned back in her chair, her hand cupping her jaw as if thinking hard before answering. “Your point is well taken, General and that very question is one which I have honestly struggled to come up with an answer to. In our war with the Lorentian Confederation, both sides took great pains to avoid unnecessary civilian casualties. The war was mainly fought by naval engagements as one side or the other vied for control of specific sectors of space which would provide a strategic advantage. After a while it became a simple case of who was going to run out of ships first, and the High Command realized that it was the League who was going to be on the losing side. And losing was an option that they and the Secretary General weren’t willing to consider, so they decided to change the rules. If we couldn’t beat them one-on-one then you needed to be willing to do something so shocking, so terrifying that your enemy would beg for peace at any price. You just needed to be willing to go through with it. And placing every League battleship, loaded to the gills with missiles and heavy cannon, in orbit around the Lorentians’ home world with orders to turn it into a radioactive dust bowl if they didn’t surrender was the plan the High Command came up with. The Lorentians surrendered and we won the war.”
“We all know the story, Admiral Helbrunn, but what if the Lorentians had called our bluff? Would the crews of those battleships have actually fired on a world of unarmed civilians?”
Instead of answering the army general’s question, Helbrunn shifted her gaze to Robert Matheson. “Well, Robert? Would you have launched your missiles?”
A younger Robert Matheson had been a fire control officer aboard the Dangerous, one of the League battleships which had been in high orbit that day holding the sword of Damocles over a population numbering in the billions. Robert felt the need to wet his suddenly dry lips as he took a slow breath before answering.
“Yes, ma’am, I would have. It was them or us, and I think we all knew that.”
A cold silence descended on the room; maybe, for the first time, those gathered in the room came to realize that what they were facing here was a real war, and for all the abstract planning and orders that were going to have to
be made in the end, it all came down to one thing. Winning.
“My question still remains, Admiral. What of the civilians?” asked the general, breaking the silence.
“To answer that, we need someone who knows a bit more about the psychology of the enemy than you or I. Lieutenant Commander Del Mastro did a tour as assistant defense attaché at the League embassy on Tarava before joining Eighth Fleet.” Helbrunn gestured for Del Mastro to join her at the head of the table. As she walked to join the admiral, Del Mastro could feel every eye on the room focusing in on her, assessing her as if she was a predator’s next meal. Straightening her back, she ignored the beads of sweat she could feel breaking out across the back of her neck and dampening her already too tight uniform collar, trying desperately to throw a cloak of confidence around herself. Reaching Helbrunn, the admiral gave her a tight nod before assuming her seat and handing over control of the briefing to the most junior rank in the room.
Slipping the data chip from her clammy fingers and inserting it into the reader without dropping it to the floor was a task in itself, and as the reader’s indicator blinked green, Del Mastro swallowed furtively before speaking.
“Ladies and gentlemen. As Admiral Helbrunn alluded in her introduction, my name is Lieutenant Commander Helen Del Mastro and up until six months ago, I was the Assistant Defense Attaché at the League embassy on Tarava. In reality, my job was as second in command of the Office of Naval Intelligence detachment, tasked with gathering as much intel as I could on K’Tai fleet movement and dispositions.”
“Then how the hell did you miss a fleet being assembled to invade Agate, then?” came a surly voice dripping with sarcasm from around the middle of the table. Del Mastro’s eyes focused in on the hard face of the army general, a wave of scarlet flushing her cheeks as her mouth opened then closed without a word, as she felt the familiar anger beginning to boil up inside her.