Gordon opened up Haven Alpha's file of numerous alias ID codes and started transmitting the one for “Captain White”. Several seconds passed after the code was instantaneously transferred and the captain of the Sledgefast checked it over. Finally, the comm chimed in again, and a calmer, much more friendly voice came through.
“This is Captain Lupell of the battle frigate Sledgefast. Sorry to pounce on you like that, but your profile doesn't look like anything in our files. One does get a little jumpy when sharing a system with the likes of these locals.”
Gordon nodded to himself. “Understandable. We weren’t expecting friendly company. What is your business here?”
“First things first. Let's bank and intersect at point zero-two-five on your navmap. My communications man is having a devil of a time keeping you locked manually from this distance.”
The Sledgefast sharply turned on its starboard side, showing its underbelly to Haven Alpha, and paralleled the mobile headquarters trajectory before leveling out with a narrow intercept course in-system. Haven Alpha did the same, moving in-system and slowly drawing closer to the Demolisher frigate at the same time. Soon, the ships were close enough to exchange handshakes.
“Now,” Gordon said. “To business. What brings you and your crew out this far into the hostile zone?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” came the dismissive response. “Admiral Riedfield told us to go to the Menturion System and keep an eye on things. Didn't explain why, just told us to be expecting company. Honestly, I thought he was talking about more bugs.”
Gordon scowled at the floating vessel. “You got here pretty quick.”
The reply came back, matter-of-factly. “Well, we were only one system away. High Echelon has had us running recon overtime for the last week. It was just a two hour trip into the system.”
Gordon turned to Nathen for his opinion. Nathen took two fingers and held them under his eyes, indicating he wanted to see this ‘Lupell’. Gordon nodded and turned back to the screen.
“Let's get a visual connection going, Captain Lupell.”
The camera shot of the Sledgefast changed into an upper body shot of a man in his late thirties. Captain Lupell was wearing a standard human Navy uniform, colored in the familiar issue captain’s red. He had the semi-thin frame of a sports runner, and a head of ragged lemony blonde hair that looked like it had been combed with alligator’s teeth. Behind him was the armor plated command deck of a Demolisher class battle frigate. Nathen relaxed some. Lupell seemed a little chilled in his chair.
“I'm not getting a response feed,” he said, frowning at the screen.
Gordon groaned audibly, feigning frustration. “Ah, blast it. I thought we fixed that malfunction. Can you still hear us?”
Lupell arched an eyebrow and nodded. “Yes, reasonably well.”
“Well, this will have to do, then. So, were you told anything else?”
“All I heard was that I was supposed to monitor the system until we received company; I'm presuming that's you. Mind filling me in? I'm a little on edge when my ship is this close to two enemy strike forces.”
Gordon switched the comms to hold and swiveled toward Nathen. “Looks like Chronos sent us a little welcome basket. This may prove useful.” Gordon turned back to the front and unblocked the comms. “In a minute. First I need to know what's been going on here in the last few hours.”
Lupell sighed and motioned to someone off screen. “Understood, Julias II. I'm now sending you all the map data recordings for the last five hours. That will give you the gist of what we've been seeing.” There was a pause as Lupell consulted someone off screen and turned back to the camera. “Complications, White. We'll need to close to fifty meters or less for the data dump to go through the tight beam. Unless you want to risk it over open comms.”
Gordon shook his head. “I wouldn't risk it, not even at this range. A single echo could give away our presence.” Gordon leaned forward in his chair and motioned to his helmsman. “Tycho, bring us in close. Try and keep it out of collision distance, and hold us steady.”
“Aye, sir,” the reply came.
The ships closed distance until they were running in a parallel course. A meter appeared in the bottom right hand corner of the command screen, showing the process of the data transfer. As the transfer went on, there was suddenly a hollow shudder from the hull of the mobile headquarters. The transfer meter disappeared, breaking contact. Gordon scowled as he waited for an explanation for what caused his ship to flinch. When none came, his demanded one.
“Sledgefast, what was that?”
A few seconds later, the transfer meter reappeared. So did Lupell.
“Sorry Julias,” Lupell said with an apologetically smiling face. “Slight gravjet bump. Won't happen again. You probably felt a little jostle from us, but it’s nothing to worry about.”
Lupell tapped his command console and started reading the data he was sending them.
“Yew forces currently have the upper hand. They have the entire northern hemisphere locked down, and they control the equator with their ships. The War Hive have been content with sitting in their roach holes, but from what I can tell they're starting to get impatient.”
Gordon arched an inquisitive eyebrow. “You can tell all that from here?”
Lupell nodded. “We slung a probe into the moon’s orbit from extreme range. Lucky shot, but we made it. It’s a stealth model, so they haven't found it yet. Chances are you guys won't find it either.”
Gordon nodded as he watched the data transfer. “Not bad, Captain.”
Lupell shifted his position in his captain’s chair. “Alright, I've handed out my information. May I have an explanation now?”
Gordon took a few seconds to work out the cover story for his ship.
“I'm not at liberty to say much, but I can tell you we're going to get close. Very close.”
Lupell looked baffled. “Close? Why would you want to get any closer to those fleets? You can see them pretty good from here, and you already got ground data-”
Lupell cut himself off short as the pieces clicked together.
“You guys are gonna try and land on the moon?”
Gordon was about to answer, but the data transfer clicked complete, and he stopped.
“Sorry, Captain Lupell, but I think we've risked too much time speaking as it is. The further in-system we get, the more likely the enemy is going to notice two Human ships holding hands. Your work is done.”
“Well, I'd like something. It wasn't exactly easy to sneak all this way and then sit on a bed of hot coals.”
“I'm sure you'll get your explanation,” said Gordon, lying. Nathen knew there was no way Lupell would ever hear from them again. The red-uniformed captain on the screen sighed and shook his head.
“Well, I can tell when we're not wanted.” The man grinned. “You sure you don't want us to stick around? Those aliens don't make for very good hosts.”
“You've helped us plenty with your surveillance data, Sledgefast, you don't need to stick around.”
Lupell nodded and turned to face someone off screen. “Affirmative, Julias II. Thanks for the explanation.”
The screen blanked, and the image of the Demolisher frigate disappeared.
Gordon clenched his fingers into a fist, then loosened them, then clenched them again. Nathen noted the captain’s unease and pressed the issue.
“What’s wrong?”
Gordon stared at a frozen recording the Sledgefast had downloaded for them. “There’s something in these pictures... Something I can’t put my finger on.” Gordon rotated his chair halfway, waving a hand at the screen. “Do you see anything?”
Nathen shook his head. “No, Captain, they look detailed and clear.”
Gordon drummed his fingers against his armrest. “Something...”
Nathen took a good, analytical look at the surface map. He pointed out a circular blotch surrounded on one side by a spider web of trenches.
“T
here’s the battle line.”
“I see,” Gordon said, examining it himself. “There are a lot more Insectoids than we were led to believe. I’d estimate those trenches hold at least five thousand troops.”
“Eh, it’s hard to tell with their camouflage in place, but I’m inclined to agree. I suspect we’ll see an influx of even more shock troops flowing in from the East. They probably had to land on the other side where the Yew orbital defense grid won’t reach them.”
“Quite a stroll,” Gordon said. “I assume you and your team would appreciate a more direct route.”
“Well, first we have to figure out where we’re going,” Nathen said, reaching over Gordon’s shoulder and shifting the map perspective slightly. “What are we looking at here with the Yew?”
Gordon leaned forward a little, resting his elbows on his knees. “Unfortunately the Sledgefast doesn’t seem to have a terribly competent surveillance system. All we have is an orbital top-down view, and not nearly as much square mileage as I would have liked.”
“What kind of surface are we looking at?”
“These pictures can’t distinguish that. However, our older records indicate Cravac’s moon consists of semi-volcanic rock which is formed through the pressure of underground gasses. Surface foliage is coral-based, so instead of trees expect to see reefs.”
Nathen scanned the map again. “I can see several Yew installations from this frame. Which one is the most important?”
Gordon pointed, simultaneously highlighting a black dot surrounded by dozens of little grains.
“Spaceport,” he declared. “That’s their main base. Without this they have no beachhead and can’t resupply troops or supplies without airdrops. It’s behind their defense lines, but it’s weak. Craft and vehicles will be there for repairs or down time.”
Nathen shook his head. “No, no, see that’s no good. If we take out the vehicles they’re not using, then it’ll be days before they feel the effects of our attack. More than enough time to replace them. I need something they’re going to weep over when I take it away.”
“Like what?” Gordon asked. Nathen thought about it, then pointed to another blotch marked several miles away, right on the doorstep of the Yew trenches.
“There. Fortress. With five thousand Insectoids breathing down their neck, if that buckles then the dam breaks.”
“Hmm… I see your point, Commander. Yes, I concur.” Gordon paused, zooming in a little on the circular fortification. “Oh. Now this is interesting.”
“What?” Nathen asked. Gordon enhanced the picture. In seconds, the round blotch cleared up into an identifiable picture of a massive crater.
“Crude, yet ingenious,” Gordon said, somehow both admirable and spiteful at once. “They built their fortifications inside a crater… on a hilltop. Dished-in interior, with raised walls of ground, creating a giant foxhole. It makes their position very secure, provided they have adequate anti-bombardment grids. But, that’s not what interests me.”
Gordon zoomed in a little more, nodding to himself. “A-ha. I was right. See that point right there? That’s no regular radio antennae. That’s an orbital defense grid projector array.”
Nathen felt his heartbeat quicken with anticipation. “You’re sure?”
“Quite sure,” Gordon said, smugly. “If that falls it will trigger a blackout for the entire fifty mile radius. It will crack their orbital defenses.”
“And they put that in their forward base, so close to the enemy?”
“I would doubt that was intentional. Probably the War Hive already took their first forward base. But who’s complaining? It makes our job that much easier.”
Nathen crossed his arms, pleased with the situation. “Alright, that’s where we’ll go. How do you want to do this?”
After a minute Gordon sighed and shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “I don't like how tight their orbital defense grid is. The way things are set up, there's a high chance we’ll be spotted before we can get into position to launch our Hybrids. Their patrols are very efficient. There's no extended gap where we can slip in.”
Gordon rubbed at his chin for another moment, then turned the comms back on, bringing up the visual picture of Lupell. “Sledgefast? You still there?”
Lupell looked back at the blank comm video screen. “Yes, Julias II. We were just plotting our course out of the system.”
Gordon pawed at his thin beard, casually. “How about you postpone those orders and give us a hand getting in there?”
Nathen saw a strange look cross Lupell’s face. “Well, uh… What do you need?”
Gordon rapidly hit buttons on his armrest keypad and called up the dimensional map the Sledgefast had downloaded for them. “Those Yew craft are hugging their orbits too tightly for my liking. I want a clear avenue to get in closer. It would be very convenient if something were to… distract them. Are you with me?”
Lupell put on an eager grin. “Anything to help out a friend.”
Gordon smirked. “Good call, Sledgefast. Stand by for instruction.”
“Aye, Captain White. We'll be ready.”
The comms cut, and Gordon turned to Nathen, the look of fiery anticipation on his face. “Suit up. You and your team are paying a visit to the Cravac Moon.”
Nathen turned and strode toward the lift. He was beginning to feel the itch for the mission.
Chapter 17
Nathen breathed out, relaxing as the alloy merged around his head and neatly sealed him into his own bubble. The gravity cushion let him down onto the floor of his armor casket and the glass lifted up in front of him. The commander stepped down and lifted his arm just in time to catch his pistol and harness as it was tossed to him by Trent, whose suit was already fully fused. Nathen slid his shoulder holster around his arms and fastened it tightly. Once the holster was on, he pulled out and checked his Denchura II before returning it to the holster and fastening the catch over it.
“Let’s get a move on, Alphas!” Nathen shouted, coaxing the rest of the team as they finished their symbiosis. “We're on the clock. We got a war to win, and it’s not gonna fight itself.”
Kyler, in his imposing blue armor, emerged from his armor case. “Yeah! What fun would thet be?”
Nearby, Trent was wrapping his green Ranger's scarf around the neck of his dermasuit, running gloved hands across his forest-brown armor to see if anything snagged. The sniper double checked his brace of automatic Wolfhounds, sighting down the weapons separately and together before tucking them away in the holsters under his arms. Jonathan was performing a similar ritual, standing off to the side in his black armor. The stealthist kept rolling his elbows and dropping onto all fours like a crouching predator. He alternated pulling out his four combat knives, rolling his wrist and fingers like a juggler before seamlessly and fluidly sheathing all his blades.
Nathen lifted his utility belt off the side of his armor case and strapped it on just as Calico dropped out of her casket. The girl straightened herself out, still getting used to the armor. Nathen reached over and grabbed her own custom utility belt and tossed it to her. Unready for it, she caught it clumsily but quickly recovered.
“Gear up, Trast,” Nathen said as she strapped the belt around her waist. “You're riding with me this drop.”
Calico nodded, strapping her own Denchura IV onto her leg over her armor.
“By the way,” the girl said. “When do I get my code name? How's that work?”
“I dunno,” Nathen said, smirking. “I normally wait for inspiration to strike before that decision is made.”
“I can't have a name before the mission?”
Nathen eyed the girl. “Well, we could take suggestions.” Nathen glanced at the others as they suited up. “Anyone have any good ones?”
“Aye,” Kyler said, smartly. “I got one. How bout... Gun Girl?”
“Miss Metal?” offered Helen, grinning as she wound up her cascade of hair.
“Desk Jockey,” suggested Jonathan, flatly.
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Nathen shrugged. “There you go. Take your pick.”
Calico covered her flushed face by putting her helmet on. “I think I'll wait for your inspiration, sir.”
“I don't blame you. I’m going to arm up,” said Nathen, heading for the door. “The rest of you have thirty seconds. We don't have time to lose.”
Helen was waiting for him out in the hallway.
“Ready to roll, Boss,” she said.
Nathen barely gave her a response, turning down the hallway and making a slight motion with his hand as Helen fell in beside him. Two minutes later, they were in the weapons room. Not far behind them were Jonathan and Trent, catching up quickly with the Commander. When they were in the clear, brightly lit weapon's chamber, Nathen directed Helen toward the hangar.
“Check the prep time for the Griffins while I distribute the arms. I want to be out of here in five minutes, tops.”
Helen swiftly hurried out of the weapons room toward the hangar.
Nathen turned around just as Phillip Norsehill ran into the weapons chamber in his gunmetal gray armor.
“Daytana.” Nathen pointed at Jonathan. “Fiend. You two got demo duty. Charges, grenades, heat seekers, whatever else we need to dig a big grave for a platoon of tanks. I’ll grab a Pennington.”
Phillip and Jonathan both gave what passed for their salutes: Phillip wiggling his fingers near his forehead and Jonathan briefly touching two fingers to his right eyebrow. But both were crisp with their verbal “Yes sir!”
Nathen finally turned to Calico. “Alright. Let’s get you a weapon.”
Nathen put his helmet on the floor and swiped his keycard through the slot. He swiftly punched in an access code followed by his password, then accessed Calico’s authorization. A list of weapons, their names, and their models appeared like a checklist. A green checkmark was next to the Denchura Mark IV. After a moment’s consideration, Nathen punched in a weapons code, and another green checkmark appeared next to another weapon’s name.
“There we go,” said Nathen, clearing the screen. “I got you cleared for sub-machine gun class weaponry. Get yourself a Casper sub-machine gun. That’ll be good for a start.”
Prime Alpha (Planetary Powers Book 1) Page 20