The Ibarra Sanction (Terran Armor Corps Book 2)

by Richard Fox

  “They’re feeling us out,” Lettow said. “Engage counter missiles and point defense at max range. Let’s see what they’ve got.”

  “Aye aye.”

  A dozen small missiles shot from square cargo boxes bolted to outside of the cruiser’s hulls and closed on the incoming torpedoes…which moved at an almost languid speed in comparison.

  The smaller Kesaht destroyers, their forward hulls bent into the shape of a clawed hand gripping at a target, sprinted ahead of the rest of their fleet.

  What’s your game, Gor’thig? Lettow thought.

  The counter missiles closed…and the torpedoes sprang forward, afterburners blazing. The leading counter missiles tried to swerve into an intercept course, more whiffed through the torpedoes’ trail. The back field of missiles exploded in the torpedoes’ paths, showering them with metal fragments and small magnetic balls full of denethrite.

  A handful of the torpedoes made it through the phalanx of counter missiles. All but one fell to point defense turrets; the final scoured a hit against the Beijing and exploded with a flash. The cruiser emerged, trailing hull fragments and a thin line of ice.

  Seconds passed painfully as Lettow waited for an update.

  “Beijing reports moderate damage to three decks,” Strickland said. “Weapons and propulsion unaffected. Some casualties, no number yet.”

  “Launch bombers, minimal fighter escort. Have them target the incoming destroyers. Bombers will execute the hook on my command. Long range rail cannons on our cruisers and frigates focus fire on these ships.” Lettow said and marked three battle cruisers above the alien battleships. “Have the artillery ships open sustained fire on the battleship.”

  “Aye aye.” Strickland sent the commands off in seconds. “That flagship’s sure to have shields. You think our artillery can get another golden BB through the shields?”

  “I doubt it, but if I was the enemy commander I’d be afraid of just that after my sister ship got ripped in half. I want to know if Gor’thig will use his other ships as shields. Xaros had no centralized leadership. The Ruhaald would do anything to protect their queens. I don’t know about these Kesaht.”

  Rail cannons across the 14th’s leading cruisers fired as quick lines closed on the alien ships. There was a flurry of rockets from point defense turrets, but the effort was too little, too late. Rail shells pounded the targeted cruisers. One exploded into a ball of fire and expanding debris. The second broke in half, the still-burning engines corkscrewing back toward Oricon. The third stopped dead in its tracks, flashes of small explosions bursting through the hull.

  “They’re running under atmosphere,” Lettow said. “If anything gets through the hull, they’ll have to deal with fires…if blast waves don’t kill the crew.”

  “Best we not interrupt them while they’re making that mistake,” Strickland said. “They’ve got plenty more cruisers for us to blow up…not including the ones coming up from behind.”

  The admiral checked on the distance between his command and the closing ships. Still almost forty minutes until they reached weapon range, which was an eternity during a battle.

  “Spread out the rail targets,” Lettow said. “See if a single hit is enough to take their ships out of the fight. No need to let them soak up rounds.”

  “Admiral, the Kesaht are hailing us,” the comms lieutenant said. “It’s coming from the ship near Oricon.”

  Another volley of torpedoes launched from the alien ships.

  “Keep up the pressure,” Lettow said to Strickland. “I’ll keep this brief.”

  He double tapped a screen and the Sanheel officer appeared in the holo tank.

  “Treacherous animals,” Gor’thig snarled.

  “There are rogue elements within my fleet responsible for the attack on your ship,” Lettow said. “I can share logs and prove that—”

  “We know your history. What you’re capable of,” Gor’thig said. “I should have crushed you when I had the chance.”

  “You mean those ships you had hiding around the Crucible? So if I hadn’t weighed anchor, I’d be the one sputtering about ‘treachery.’ We can avoid further bloodshed.” He glanced at the holo tank. The incoming torpedoes arced off their initial course and converged toward the Javelin squadron.

  “No,” Gor’thig said, baring his teeth, “this will be my day—when the Kesaht Hegemony met the great evil and struck the first blow. I will carve the name of your broken ship into the Ascendant Steps myself. My ship will not destroy all of your infection on the moon. I would have your home world know that their reckoning is coming for them.”

  “If you bombard civilians, there will never—” Lettow’s lip twitched as the channel cut off.

  “What the hell was he talking about?’ Strickland asked.

  “Damned if I know.” The admiral checked the time estimate until the battleship near Oricon would have line of sight to Auburn City. The location of the city on the far side of the planet was likely the only thing saving the city from the battleship’s guns.

  “Sprint!”

  The Kesaht torpedoes made a sharp course correction and angled toward the cruiser Ottawa. The ship threw up a flurry of counter-missiles and fire from her point defense turrets, but the overwhelming mass of incoming targets overwhelmed the cruiser’s defenses. A torpedo hit the upper hull and exploded, ripping the top of the ship open. Another torpedo slipped through the gap and detonated within the ship. The Ottawa shattered into a thousand directions.

  “Adjust line spacing to half,” Lettow said, watching a red X icon pulse over where the Ottawa used to be. “Overlap point defense envelopes, make it harder for them to overwhelm a single target.”

  The Ottawa had eight hundred souls aboard. He doubted any survived.

  He turned his attention to the claw ships closing on his destroyer screen. The Condor bombers had just entered weapon range and tracks from their torpedoes appeared in the holo tank. The torpedoes, much smaller than the Kesaht weapons, jinked from side to side, guided by a bombardier on the firing Condor.

  The claw ships offered an anemic defense, barely more than a few laser bolts from a single turret at the “palm” of the ships. Torpedoes hit home, erasing the Kesaht ships from space. The reaming ships pressed forward, unfazed by the losses. Several dozen of the ships still remained.

  The Ardennes rumbled as her rail cannons joined the fight. The holo tank filled with crisscrossing rail shots and torpedoes. His ships took damage, but none as catastrophic as the Ottawa.

  The Kesaht suffered, losing a dozen ships in the first thirty seconds of the exchange.

  “Maintain fire on—”

  The deck lurched beneath his feet, tossing him against Strickland. The holo field flickered.

  “Took a hit to the upper decks,” Strickland said. “Power nodes to the port rail batteries are off line.”

  “What the hell was that?” Lettow jabbed a fingertip against his screens, working to recalibrate the holo tank. The image finally resolved…and several of his ships were blinking amber with damage.

  Half the claw ships blinked as the sensors read a massive power surge. Light built at each of the fingertips. Laser beams fired into a single point, then a massive beam lanced down and into the Terran fleet. Every claw ship that attacked exploded or burnt away as the lasers overloaded.

  The Ardennes shook again.

  The cruiser Sao Paolo went offline, canting to one side as her engines misfired from a direct hit. The Edinburgh went dead in space, and debris trickled from a pierce through the top and bottom of her hull.

  “Destroyers, break off and engage the remaining claw ships,” Lettow ordered. He did a double take at the holo field as fighters swarmed out of the Kesaht ships and made straight for the Ardennes.

  Chapter 13

  Dinkins slapped a hand over a thigh pocket and his face knit with confusion. He wiggled against the straps securing him to the Mule’s bench and pulled out a data slate in a bulky case. He did a double take at the screen,
then unbuckled himself.

  “Sir! Return to your seat!” a crewman shouted from the fore of the cargo bay.

  Dinkins knocked on Roland’s armor.

  “Hello? Are you awake in there? I think I’ve found them—the children!” Dinkins knocked again.

  “Sir! Please—”

  “Kiss my ass!” Dinkins held the data slate over Roland’s optics.

  “What am I looking at?” Roland asked.

  “The bio trackers came online. We must be in range of the city’s towers. The request went through and-and—just look!” Dinkins tapped on the slate again. “All fifteen children just pinged. See?”

  “They’re one hundred fifty yards above ground level and moving at almost two hundred miles an hour,” Roland said. “They must be in a Kesaht aircraft.”

  “Then how do we get them—” The Mule bucked, sending Dinkins face-first into Roland’s side, then nosed downward, losing altitude rapidly.

  “You should sit down,” Roland said. He tapped into the Mule’s turret feeds. Auburn City was on the horizon; columns of smoke rose around squat apartment high-rises and the sprawling supply parks surrounding the city.

  The foreman struggled back into his seat and buckled himself down.

  “Couple Kesaht fighters tried to jump us,” Gideon sent over the lance channel. “Eagles made swift work of them. I’m trying to raise Captain Sobieski, but what channels are open are chaos. The Kesaht just launched an assault on the city and the primary comms towers were the first thing they hit.”

  “Sir, Dinkins found the missing children. On an enemy craft moving to the northwest,” Roland said.

  “Looks like that’s where they’re going.” Cha’ril sent an image of a massive Kesaht ship flying toward the moon, just beyond the atmosphere, its hull partially obscured by high, thin clouds.

  “Can the Eagles catch the shuttle with the children?” Roland asked. “Force it down without—” The Mule’s upper turret opened fire, earning shouts of fear and surprise from the colonists.

  “We’ve got our own problems here,” Gideon said. “Stand by…I think I’ve got Sobieski.”

  “Fight to save the city or go after the children,” Aignar said. “I know which choice the townies will make. It’s their kids.”

  “Battlefield math,” Roland said. “Gideon and Sobieski will send us where we’ll do the most good, save the most lives. Emotions won’t be a factor for them.”

  “Sometimes I’m glad I’m just a warrant, not an officer with gold or silver bars. I don’t have to ‘what if’ too many decisions at the bottom of the totem pole,” Aignar said.

  “Hey!” Dinkins waved the data slate in the air. “They’re breaking for orbit. Do something!”

  “That’s a tracking device, right?” Roland popped a data port open on his right forearm, which was folded up next to his helmet. “Give it to me.”

  “But you said—” Aignar began.

  “You never know.” Roland cut him off as Dinkins unstrapped himself and stumbled against Roland as the Mule banked hard.

  “You snap your neck and see if I care!” the crewman yelled at Dinkins.

  Dinkins stuffed the tracker into Roland’s forearm and slapped the metal twice.

  “Find my boys,” Dinkins said. “Ask the Saint to find my boys for me. For my wife.”

  “If I can reach them, I’ll bring them back to you. I swear it,” Roland said.

  “Here’s the mission,” Gideon said, breaking into the channel. Archive pictures of a massive supply depot to the city’s south came up on Roland’s HUD. “Kesaht broke through the walls and have artillery somewhere in this area. They’re pounding the city center and Sobieski wants us to take it out. The Mules will do a combat cargo drop to get us close to the fight.”

  “Sir,” Cha’ril chimed in, “we aren’t palletized nor are we fitted with arresting parachutes.”

  “This plan lacks finesse,” Gideon said.

  “And once that’s accomplished?” Roland asked. “What about the children?”

  “We will reevaluate once Sobieski can regain control of the battlefield. Anytime the defenders try to maneuver, they get hammered. Prep for landing,” Gideon said.

  The Mule’s ramp opened and air howled through the cargo bay. A crewman jogged past Roland and unsnapped the pair of bolts at his feet. The crewman shouted at the passengers to press against the wall, promising they would lose any body part that touched the armor on its way out. The crewman went to Roland’s head and placed his hands on the last two bolts securing him to the floor. The outskirts of Auburn passed beneath the ramp and the Mule dipped low and banked to a highway. The thunder of artillery and brrrt of Eagle cannons joined the howling wind.

  “Hey in there,” the crewman shouted over the wind, “pilot wants you to know he’ll cut his airspeed as much as he can…just don’t get angry if you get a little banged up.”

  “I’ll take it out on the enemy. Fair enough?” Roland asked.

  “Here we go. Three…two—” The Mule lurched up as the blast wave from a near miss knocked the ship off course. The crewman pulled Roland’s bolts up and he slid down the carbo bay.

  Aignar’s crewman pulled up one bolt by accident, and the corner of his armor slammed into the side of the Mule, almost crushing a colonist’s legs. They got the last bolt up and Aignar slid down at an angle.

  Roland fell free from the Mule and found himself ten yards over a highway with idle cargo trucks along his intended landing path. He hit the road so hard it made his earlier torpedo breaking maneuver feel like a tap on the shoulder.

  His armor bounced up and plowed through a drone-driven hauler. He burst through the cab and landed on top of a smaller truck, splitting it down the middle, then juddered across asphalt and slowed to a stop.

  Roland unfolded from his cargo configuration and got to his feet. Ammunition lines connected to his gauss cannons and a line of electricity danced up his rail cannon vanes as his armor became fully operational.

  “Aignar?”

  There was a crash behind him. Aignar rolled down the highway, spinning like a barrel and wrecking every vehicle in the way. He crashed into a cargo container on a truck bed and came to a stop halfway through the other side. Metal bars poured out of the container and struck the ground, ringing like a giant’s wind chime.

  “Aignar!” Roland ran to his friend.

  The other armor’s arms unfolded, knocking away the loose bars, and Aignar fell through the other side just as Roland arrived. As Aignar stood up, he stumbled against another truck, mashing the cab and shattering the windshield.

  “You all right?” Roland asked.

  “Sure. Fine.” Aignar took a step forward, then veered to one side before he bumped against the cargo container that stopped him. “Just…a little dizzy. Which way do we go?”

  The thunder of artillery pulsed from the west.

  “Toward the sound of gunfire,” Roland said. He jumped over the guardrails and fell two stories. He landed in the midst of stacked cargo containers. Frozen robots stood in place at half-open doors and in the gaps between rows, many still carrying items.

  Aignar dropped in behind Roland and bumped his shoulder against an open container door, ripping a tear across it.

  “You sure you’re all right?”

  “It’s like sobering up. Got to give it a minute while trying not to barf in your roommate’s shoes.” Aignar said and then ran past Roland.

  “You said you were never going to mention that again.” Roland cycled gauss shells into his cannons.

  “And you believed me. How adorable,” Aignar said.

  “This is Gideon, Dragoons respond,” came over the IR.

  “Roland. We made landing and are en route to target location.”

  Gideon and Cha’ril’s location came up on his HUD. They were a dozen rows away and moving fast.

  “Speed up,” Gideon said. “We hit them at the same time.”

  Roland and Aignar ran faster, passing a section of stacked
containers riddled by bullets and leaking brown nutrient paste. An Eagle fighter roared overhead, trailing smoke and fire. Roland kept running as he heard it crash into the cargo yard. Yellow tracer fire stitched across the sky just beyond the edge of the supply yard.

  “Air defense emplacements,” Aignar said. He jumped up and grabbed the side of a container, then climbed up the stack.

  “Gideon wants us to—”

  “You want us to go get those kids? We’re not going to sprout wings and fly into orbit. I’ll catch up.” Aignar got his head and shoulders over the top of the stack and brought his gauss cannons to bear.

  Roland cleared the edge of the cargo yard. The Kesaht artillery were massive tracked vehicles. Dozens of vehicles with wide-barreled cannons angled high and crewed by Rakka blasted off another volley. Rakka in powered exo suits carried fresh rounds from ammunition haulers lined up behind the artillery pieces.

  Tanks formed a loose perimeter around the artillery. Snub-nose turrets with belt-fed chain guns slewed toward Roland.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got.” Roland aimed his gauss cannon where the tank’s turret met the lower hull and fired. The rounds tore through the turret and the tank exploded, hurling the top section into the air.

  Roland jumped to one side as another Kesaht tank fired. The shell struck the ground and peppered Roland’s armor with shrapnel and pulverized asphalt. Roland put two rounds down the enemy tank’s cannon and it vanished into a burst of flame and smoke.

  “Their ammo storage is poorly armored,” Cha’ril said. “Shoot the rear third of the turrets.”

  Roland swung his cannon arm toward a tank aiming at the other two Dragoons and fired a single shot. The magnetically accelerated round struck the turret with a spark and the tank exploded a split second later.

  The closest artillery piece’s treads squealed to life. It spun in place to face the oncoming armor and the massive cannon lowered, coming to a stop level with Roland.