The Navigator (The Apollo Stone Trilogy Book 1)

by P. M. Johnson

  “And you failed to anticipate the Sahiradin alien’s true intention to take the stone for himself. Now we not only have enemies on all our borders, but also in our skies.”

  “Grand Guardian Harken,” stammered Colonel Linsky. “I can explain; I…”

  “I’m not finished!” yelled Harken, slamming his open hand on his desk. “Your failures have placed this nation in a desperate situation. You forced us to make premature use of the Blackhawk in order to recover the stone, and now that gunship, the result of fifteen years of hard work, is a smoldering hulk on the bank of the Mississippi River. The west bank of the Mississippi River.”

  Harken stood up from behind his desk and approached Linsky’s side. Linsky kept looking straight ahead at the darkening skies outside the Grand Guardian’s window, not daring to return Harken’s gaze.

  “Six months ago, we had the Apollo Stone, the Blackhawk, and a large highly trained army,” said Harken in a voice laced with venom. “We were poised to reunite this land under one flag, to bring the people together into one great nation. But that’s all changed. What was once a foregone conclusion has become a desperate gamble.”

  He stepped in front of Linsky and shouted in his face. “I could have you executed for treason! There would be no trial, no tribunal. Just a firing squad and a corpse in the river.”

  Linsky swallowed. His upper lip glistened with sweat.

  Harken stared for a moment at the SPD colonel as though daring him to make eye contact. Harken then walked toward the window and looked out over the Capitol. “But, I must admit, you had an outstanding career until this series of debacles, so I’m giving you one last opportunity to redeem yourself.”

  “Thank you,” said Colonel Linsky.

  “Our world is changed forever,” said Harken as he watched a helicopter fly along the Capitol barrier. “The other Guardians have not yet come to terms with it. They are in a state of panic, worrying how people will react when they learn that we are not alone in the universe. But you are a different kind of animal. You understand what our new future holds.”

  Harken walked toward his desk and rested his hands on the back of the leather chair. “You’ve worked with the Sahiradin. You understand how much more advanced his species is.”

  “Yes sir,” answered Linsky, relieved that Harken was no longer talking about his execution.

  “We always knew there was a chance that more of his kind would come one day, but without the Apollo Stone we assured ourselves that the risk was minimal. We were wrong. Now we not only have Sahiradin in our skies, but we must also contend with their enemies.”

  “Yes sir,” said Linsky.

  Harken took a deep breath. “The time has come to strike a bargain. As I said, the other Guardians haven’t come to grips with what is happening, but you and I know we cannot survive as an independent nation in this new environment. Therefore, we must ally ourselves with the Sahiradin. As evidence of our usefulness and willingness to cooperate, we can point to our years of successful collaboration with Kurak. I believe our good treatment of him will also work to our advantage.”

  “I would assume so, sir”

  “As you may be aware, we have struck a bargain with the Dellians, and so far they have done what we have asked. They are guarding a rail bridge and assisting our engineers to repair it. Soon, we will deploy the northern wing of our army on the west side of the river. That army will march south and unite with the main force when it crosses the river near St. Louis, smashing the League forces in a pincer move.”

  “An excellent plan, sir.”

  Harken ignored Linsky’s compliment and opened his desk drawer. He removed a sealed envelope and laid it on the desk in front of him. “The Sahiradin leaders have deployed a small army on a hill just above the Dellian position. We have convinced the Dellians that the Sahiradin are an elite PRA force, but if they come into close contact our assertion will be difficult to maintain. That is why I want you to travel to the Sahiradin camp and talk to our former associate. He has already secretly indicated to me that the Sahiradin are interested in a dialogue.”

  Linsky raised an eyebrow at the mention of secret communications but said nothing.

  “You are to offer the following terms, which are contained in this letter.” Harken touched the envelope with his fingertips. “First, in exchange for Sahiradin assistance reclaiming our lost states, we will assist in their fight against their alien enemies. Second, if the Sahiradin support the continued growth of the PRA, we will act as the Sahiradin representatives on Earth. Our administration of the planet will ensure Sahiradin interests are protected without requiring their direct involvement.”

  “Yes sir,” said Linsky.

  “If they are receptive to these general terms, we will meet with them to discuss the details.” Harken folded his arms across his chest and said, “You know the Sahiradin better than anyone else. You must do your best to set the proper tone with them in order to ensure successful negotiations.”

  “Yes sir,” said Linsky. He was silent after that, but Harken could see he was struggling with something.

  “What is it Linsky? Out with it.”

  “Sir, the citizens will need to be told something to ease their concerns. And I wonder how the other Guardians will accept the new arrangement.”

  “As for the people, they’ve witnessed a battle in orbit above our heads. They’ve seen the Sahiradin spacecraft in our skies, even over the Capitol District. We cannot protect them from this startling new situation. But they will follow our guidance, just as they always have. As for the Guardians, leave them to me.”

  Linsky nodded. “Yes sir.”

  “And Linsky, if you succeed, there may be a place for you in the new arrangement. If you fail, I will have to make a difficult choice: firing squad or the hangman’s noose. Now go to the Sahiradin camp and deliver the letter.”

  Harken handed Linsky the letter. The SPD officer carefully slid it under his coat and tucked it into an inner pocket. Then he saluted with his left hand, turned and exited the Grand Guardian’s office.

  Chapter 64

  Kurak stood before General Urkona in his command hut. The general was a rare black-eyed, black-haired Sahiradin. There were a number of other Sahiradin in the hut, but they stood at a respectful distance, ready to respond to orders if called upon.

  “Captain Kurak, as you know, Dominion was forced to withdraw for the time being,” said Urkona. “That gives us time to get to know each other a little.” He offered Kurak a drink of dark liquid, which Kurak accepted with a slight nod of the head.

  “Veresch from the slopes of the Sacred Mountain,” said Urkona.

  Kurak tasted it and smiled. “You can imagine how long it has been since I have tasted its bitter bite.”

  General Urkona smiled, but his dark eyes lacked emotion.

  “I have read your report regarding the Alamani and your experiences with them,” said the general. “As you know, we have several thousand Alamani savages near the bridge below our camp. A different group is on the ridgeline just to the south. A third group is massing farther to the north. Although I do not consider any of these tribes to be a serious threat, I am concerned that we are penned in against the river with no room to maneuver. What do you know of these Alamani tribes and what are their intentions?”

  Kurak took another sip from his cup and set it down on the table. He approached the holographic map of the region and pointed at the railroad bridge. “This Alamani tribe is called the Dellians. A savage group of fanatics that have temporarily allied themselves with the Alamani of the east, called the PRA. You will recall that I lived in the PRA for many years. These Alamani on the hill to the south are the enemies of the PRA. They belong to a loose collection of Alamani city states called the League of Free Cities. They call themselves a league, but in truth they’re little more than a trade union with a loose mutual-defense agreement.”

  Kurak scrolled the holographic map north. “This third group of Alamani is called the North
runners. They are extremely reclusive and few in numbers. This hill we find ourselves on is inside territory that both the Northrunners and the Dellians claim, which is why the Northrunner defenders have come south. They will want to observe our actions but are unlikely to attack unless provoked.

  General Urkona nodded, his black eyes focused on the map. He motioned the other Sahiradin to gather around. “As I said, I do not like being penned in against the river. To create breathing room, my staff recommends we slaughter the Alamani on the hill. You are familiar with the politics and military capabilities of these tribes, Captain Kurak. Should we attack or wait for their assault?”

  “I agree the Alamani on the hill are the greatest threat. At least to the extent that any Alamani are a threat to us,” said Kurak with a grin. “The Dellians present no danger.”

  “And what about these Northrunners?” asked the general, pointing farther north.

  “As I said, I think they will be satisfied to watch and wait, but they will fight if we move north,” said Kurak. “As is the case with the Dellians, they are no real threat to us. Unlike the Alamani of the east and the League, they do not have shields and they rely on projectile weapons.”

  Urkona rotated the map to study the terrain and enemy positions from different angles. After a few moments, he asked, “How certain are you the Alamani from the east, the PRA, will execute their war plans as you described?”

  “Very certain,” said Kurak. “They have been planning this war for years, and have put so much effort into precisely timing the various elements of their plan that I do not think they would dare deviate from it.”

  “And why are they at war with this other tribe, the League?” asked General Urkona.

  “It is simple,” said Kurak. “They are starving. Their crops are dying. And although they’ve been planning the war for years, this is the year they must attack if they want to avoid the social unrest that will certainly occur this winter when the last scraps of food have been consumed.”

  “And their enemy, the League, has food?” asked Urkona.

  “They do. And more importantly, their crops are not affected by the blight.”

  General Urkona raised his hand to his chin and studied the map a few moments longer. Then he said, “Very well. The troops are eager to engage against our ancient enemy, our greatest enemy. We will attack the Alamani on the hill.”

  Chapter 65

  The khâl turned blue as the fast attack frigate passed through the nearby wormhole. The Lycians had been fortunate. The gate had created this particular wormhole much closer to P3 than the gate through which the Sahiradin fleet had arrived. The Lycian frigate quickly located the Sahiradin fleet on the far side of P6 and signaled for the other ships to follow. Soon the Lycian flagship, a battleship called Intrepid, and an array of frigates, cruisers and patrol vessels came through the wormhole, followed by several warrior transports. The ships assumed a standard protective formation around Intrepid and launched hundreds of small craft and drones to search for hidden enemy vessels and gather intelligence about the system they had just entered.

  On board Intrepid, Admiral Var-Imar, a slender female with olive-colored skin and short black hair, ordered her communications officer to contact the Lycian heavy cruiser, Defiant.

  “Your report please, captain,” said Var-Imar.

  “Admiral, Commander Dor-Ingaroth reporting,” said the blond-haired officer with almond-shaped eyes. Captain Sul-Turov died during the recent battle.” He waited a moment before continuing. “We failed to destroy the Sahiradin battleship, called Dominion, but it was sufficiently damaged that it was forced to retreat to the moon orbiting P3. Our enhanced ion shield proved its value, but Defiant was badly damaged in the battle. Our engines are disabled and our orbit around P3 is decaying. Unless we can quickly repair our engines, Defiant will crash to the planet surface.”

  Var-Imar nodded her head and said, “You did well to force them to retreat. The Sahiradin devastator-class battleship is a formidable opponent.”

  “In all honesty, I think we were lucky,” said Commander Dor-Ingaroth. “We don’t think Dominion was so heavily damaged that she couldn’t fight on, especially against an enemy with no engine power. We’re continuing to investigate why they chose to retreat to the nearby moon.”

  “Interesting. Please let me know if you learn anything new,” said Var-Imar. She laced her fingers and tapped her thumbs together as she considered what the commander had told her. Then she said, “What is the status of your repair efforts?”

  “Assuming no further complications, we should be able to restore at least partial power to the engines before we enter the planet’s atmosphere,” said Dor-Ingaroth.

  “What about your support ships? What condition are they in?”

  “Light destroyers Glory and Resolve suffered minor damage and are combat ready,” replied the commander. “The frigate Challenger was badly damaged by the Sahiradin ion cannon, but they have repaired or replaced most of their affected systems and will soon be battle ready.”

  “And what about the newly arrived Sahiradin fleet?” asked Admiral Var-Imar. “What is its composition?”

  “Admiral, the Sahiradin have sent an additional battleship, four heavy cruisers, a fighter hive, and seven frigates. They also have three large troop transports.”

  “With Dominion, that makes two battleships,” observed Var-Imar. “They are truly committed to exterminating the Alamani descendants you’ve encountered on P3. And what is the situation on the planet surface?”

  “Confused. As reported, the Alamani on P3 consist of many rival factions living in different areas of the planet, and their technical capabilities are…rudimentary.”

  “I see. So we should not look for help from them,” said Var-Imar.

  “Not in the way we would expect, but unlike their ancestors, the Alamani of P3 are warriors. In fact, we are observing the beginnings of what appears to be a large-scale war between two rival Alamani factions.”

  Var-Imar scoffed. “You say they are warriors, but they are fighting each other. What use is that to us?”

  “They fight each other, but also the Sahiradin, sir,” replied Dor-Ingaroth. “We observed a group of Alamani engage against a small detachment of Sahiradin and defeat them using swords and antiballistic shields.”

  “Interesting,” replied Var-Imar. “I consider it an unlikely coincidence that both this forgotten colony of Alamani and the Sahiradin use sword and shield. Thank you for this report. We will join you at P3 as quickly as possible. Continue to watch Dominion, and if the Sahiradin fleet arrives before we do, fall back.”

  “And if they come before we can repair Defiant’s engines?” asked Dor-Ingaroth.

  “Destroy her,” said Var-Imar, grimly.

  “Yes Admiral.”

  Chapter 66

  General McIntyre, Chief of League Forces, leaned toward the view screen camera and said, “Colonel Longmire, we’re shifting our strategy.”

  Colonel Longmire raised his eyebrows. “Yes sir. What’s the plan?”

  “We’re going to hit those Dellian troops defending the bridgehead and sweep them from this side of the river. Then we’re going to blow the bridge.”

  “Yes sir,” said Longmire with a grin, “but I can’t accomplish that mission without additional troops, sir.”

  “Understood,” said the general. “That’s why I’m shipping you an additional five thousand troops and giving you a field promotion to brigadier general. We’re pulling four heavy battalions out of the 2nd Army Corp and sending them to you instead of St. Louis.”

  “Yes sir,” said Longmire.

  “And I should mention the Northrunners have officially protested your presence in their territory. They’ve given us twenty-four hours to withdraw,” said General McIntyre, “so they won’t like the additional soldiers we’re sending you. But that can’t be helped. Those battalions will be at your location within six hours.”

  “Sir, I read the recent reports indicating t
he Northrunner defenders are inching south. What should I do if they fire on us?” asked Longmire.

  “Do not engage against them under any circumstances,” said McIntyre. “The politocos are still trying to get them to pitch in, at least against the Dellians.”

  “Understood, sir,” said Longmire.

  “Now you’ll have overall command of what we’re calling Operation Torchlight. Each battalion’s commanding officer will report to you, and you will retain direct command over the troops you’ve got now.”

  “Yes sir,” said Longmire.

  “Those four battalions are lugging some artillery with them, but because we’ve been able to reestablish air superiority west of the river, I’m also sending an additional three thousand troops and equipment by air,” said McIntyre. “Keep an eye out for Titan IVs with a fighter escort. They’ll be airdropping field guns and a dozen tanks within a couple hours.”

  Longmire was surprised by this last piece of information. “Sounds like overkill, if you don’t mind my saying. Is there more to this?”

  “Yes, there is,” said McIntyre. “Two more things, actually. The PRA has upped the number of troop trains going in your direction. It’s slow going on those old tracks, but they’ll arrive by tomorrow noon. You’ll need to get the field pieces I’m sending you unpacked and pointed at that bridge double quick.”

  “Estimated numbers of PRA troops?”

  “At this point, it looks like a division, at least. Maybe it’s their entire 1st Corp.”

  Longmire swallowed. “That’s fifty thousand soldiers, sir. With the reinforcements you’re sending, I’ll have a maximum of twelve thousand soldiers. We can’t hold out against an entire corps for very long, even with the bridge blown. They’ll just get the Dellians to ferry them across somewhere upriver.”

  “But that would cause a substantial delay, which they can’t afford,” replied McIntyre. “The rail line on the eastern side goes as far north as your spot, so I think the fight is going to take place right there.”