Again, it was something they couldn’t do anything about, so everyone on board just tried to ignore all the things that could go wrong before they went into battle, and instead focus on what they could effect. Like their own performance.
* * *
“We’re picking up a burst of graviton emissions, my Lord. Sixty light hours out of the system toward Galactic North.”
High Admiral Lisantr’nana Mishrantaow looked up from the table he was seated at in his dining chamber aboard his flagship. A slave had just delivered the roast haunch of human to his table, and he looked at the delicious meat with a watering mouth. The High Admiral looked up at his subordinate with a glare. He had been looking forward to the fresh meat all day, and his personal cook was a master at preparing human. Now this interruption for what was most probably nothing.
“Has it been identified?” he asked the shrinking subordinate, a cold smile on his face as he felt the fear on the other male. The humans had been scouting the system at a distance for over a month now, so a contact was not unexpected. But intelligence, which had penetrated the human command, knew that no attack was forthcoming sooner than two to three months. So this was obviously more scouting activity, and nothing more.
“We know it was human, and from the distance it was detected at, it was quite strong,” stammered the male. “It could have been a scout ship under high acceleration, or a capital ship under a lower rate.”
“So you have no idea what it is, and it’s so far out we really can’t do much to it.”
“If we com the outer picket, we can have a ship jump out there and make contact in four hours,” said the subordinate.
“And by then whatever had made that signature will have moved and be locked down in stealth. So what the hell use is your suggestion worth?”
“I’m sorry for interrupting you, my Lord,” said the other male with a deep bow. The expression on his face showed that he clearly hoped he would be dismissed quickly, and would be sure not to interrupt his Admiral again unless he had something solid.
“You were just doing your duty,” growled the High Admiral, in a tone that said he would appreciate it if the next time the male came before him he had something real. “Now leave me.”
The male almost ran out of the room, the Admiral glaring at his back for a moment, then turning back to his platter of meat. He picked up the haunch and brought it up to where his sharp teeth could scissors a large bite from the thigh region. He let out a groan of pleasure as the flavorful meat touched the taste receptors on the roof of his mouth. He would have to compliment the cook. Though that worthy was just a slave, it was useful at times to remind him that he was appreciated.
* * *
Walborski was once again on the mountainside observation post, scanning the area below with his field glasses. The entire regiment was now on the planet, all getting acclimated to the gravity of the world. Hundreds of augmented soldiers were running the tunnels, while more were doing calisthenics or sparring with other Rangers. It seemed like such a little thing, less than a two percent difference in gravity. But when men were trying to dodge weapons or move through restricted areas, just a little bit off could mean death.
A drizzling rain was coming down, obscuring the visibility of the post. Cornelius thought this would be the perfect time to go. The vision of the enemy would be obscured as well, and really all of their sensor platforms would be degraded. Unfortunately, everything was on a tight timetable, and they couldn’t go until everyone was ready.
That must be the edge of the minefield, thought the Ranger, focusing in on some large bodies that lay on their sides out on the plains. They were sixty ton herbivores, a trio of them, looking as if they were asleep, with the exception of a leg that lay off to the side, cut off by a mine. Two predators lay with them. The herbivores had wandered into the field that was laced with weapons they did not understand. The predators saw some easy meals and came into the same killing zone, paying the price as the disks rose into the air and spun their monomolecular wire snares through the killers.
“The Colonel is calling a meeting,” said a Ranger NCO, climbing into the observation post. “You’d best go, sir. I’ll take over here.”
Walborski nodded and put his glasses away. It was a long climb down. Nothing his superbly conditioned body couldn’t handle even multiple times in a day. More tedious than anything.
The conference room was filled to capacity, every officer and senior NCO in the Regiment present. Colonel Pham stood at the front of the room, watching the entrance as the leadership filed in. Walborski was not the last, even though he might have had the farthest to go. A pair of lieutenants earned that distinction, and the stern look of the regimental commander.
Cornelius took his seat and let his eyes roam the room. He knew many of the people here, if not all of them. It was rare for Rangers to be deployed in units larger than battalion size, and this was actually a reinforced regiment of three battalions. Each battalion had four companies of Rangers, all up to a full strength compliment of one hundred and sixty-nine men, with the exception of two companies, Walborski’s and one other. Each had been brought up to full strength by transfers from regiments that weren’t involved in this mission.
Each of the battalions also had one company of unaugmented combat engineers in heavy armor, as well as two heavy weapons platoons. That brought each battalion up to a combat ready strength of one thousand and twenty-eight men. There were also two heavy armor companies attached at regimental level, and an anti-aircraft company, as well as outside fire support. And the Naval Commando company that was assigned to the infiltration battalion, adding another one hundred and forty-two highly trained commandos.
Walborski had a moment to think about his missing man. He did not know Quang well, but from his record he was a good man. The Captain had gotten him back in time for nano-reconstruction and resurrection to salvage his basic personality and much of his most salient memories, those which had been backed up throughout his brain. Now he faced a year or more of relearning and programming before he was once again a functioning adult, if still not a Ranger. That would come later, if the man decided to volunteer again.
The Colonel rapped his old fashioned pointer on the table as he stood at the front of the room looking over everyone with a stern face. The talking died down to a murmur, then silence.
“Thirty-three hours, gentlemen,” he said, then nodded to a couple of the engineering officers. “And ladies,” he continued with a grin. None of them were used to having women in on a combat briefing, unless they were Intelligence or some other support branch. But the combat engineers and anti-aircraft, not to mention the armored company, each had some female officers, just like the rest of the Imperial military.
“In thirty-two hours Third Battalion will deploy through the wormholes. In thirty-two and a half hours First and Second Battalions will deploy to the outside and make their way to their start off points. At thirty-three hours to the second, Company C, Second of the One Eighty Eighth Armor will deploy through the wormhole, and the enemy will have the first sign that something is up. Company D will deploy moments later.”
A holo of the camp and surrounding areas came up, something that everyone in the room was familiar with. Supposedly it had been updated with the latest information, but as far as Walborski could tell, it was exactly the same as what he had seen the day before.
“As far as we can tell, the Cacas are still sitting there fat and sassy,” said the Colonel, pointing to the holo map with the rod in his hand. “If everything goes as planned, we should achieve complete surprise. However, all of us are veterans, and we know that nothing ever goes exactly as planned.”
There were some chuckles around the room. Every officer and NCO in the room was a combat veteran. There were no newbies just out of the academy on this mission, with the exception of a couple who had seen action as enlisted men before they were offered commissions. This was not the kind of mission to break in new officers.
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p; “We are going to keep close watch over the next thirty-three hours to make sure there are no signs that they know we are here. Of course, if we are found out, it changes nothing. We still go in, on schedule, no matter what. Seven hundred million people are depending on us. So remember, to keep your men at hand, and don’t let them do anything that might tip our hand.”
“What about everyone else involved in this cluster?” asked Lt. Colonel Montaigne. “From the latest intelligence we have received the Fleet is out there running ships into each other.”
Walborski glanced over at the Lt. Commander in charge of the Naval Commando company, who was glowering at Montaigne. There had always been a fierce rivalry between the two services, particularly since the Fleet got the lion’s share of the military budget. But ships cost a lot more than ground forces did
“We have no control over the rest of the units involved in this operation,” said the Colonel, shaking his head. “All we can handle is what we have control over.” His eyes locked with Montaigne’s for a moment. “And we really don’t need an Interservice rivalry at this point. Just see to your battalion, Colonel Montaigne, and we’ll let high command worry about the big picture.”
Cornelius had to admit that Colonel Pham had a point, but then again so did his CO. There was so much riding on this thing going off according to plan. It was foolish to think that everything could go off perfectly, and that they would get all of the civilians out. In point of fact, at least three hundred and fifty thousand of those civilians would die before the assault started, and there was nothing they could do about that either. Walborski thought that one fact would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. Images of the children in the camp came to him whenever he closed his eyes, and the sight of the carts full of bodies. It was too much.
“Everyone make sure your men and women know the mission inside and out. I hope that all of us make it through, but we all know better. Your second in command must be ready to take over in case something happens to you, and the person behind them if they go down. Platoon sergeants must be ready to take over for platoon leaders, senior squad leaders after that. Executive officers for company commanders, senior platoon leaders after. Every officer and NCO in the Regiment must be able to take over for the man above them if something happens.”
Cornelius was beginning to wonder what the purpose of this pep talk was. Everyone in any combat unit knew about the delegation and transfer of command during combat. He looked into the Colonel’s eyes and then he knew. The man was terrified. He looked around the room. They all were scared out of their wits. He could feel the fear dwelling in his own heart, and knew it was the same as theirs. It wasn’t fear of going into combat. It wasn’t even fear of dying. It was fear of failure. An entire nation was depending on them and the other soldiers, preparing for the assaults on all the camps, on a half dozen planets. If they failed, the nation of New Moscow was gone.
Oh, there were other survivors, the few million refugees who had escaped into Imperial space. The ships that had led that evacuation were here, in New Moscow space, or waiting to come through the wormholes. For them this mission was even more vital. They had already been beaten once, and now they were being given a second chance.
“Religious services will be held for all denominations five hours before mission start,” said the Colonel, his voice steady despite his fear. “After that, all of your soldiers will be fed and you will perform last minute equipment checks. We will have a last minute command call three hours before the commencement of combat. Hopefully there will be no major changes. But if there are, we will plan for them at that time. Dismissed.”
Cornelius got up from his seat along with the rest of the attendees. There was some muted conversation, but no one approached Cornelius, whom some still considered a Maverick who had been promoted too quickly, probably because of Imperial favor. That was fine with him. He was the junior company commander of the battalion, and like most Ranger officers he spent most of his time with the unit he was in charge of.
“Walborski,” said Colonel Montaigne, walking up to him with his exec, Major Colquitt, in tow. “You’re set to guard our right flank.”
Walborski nodded. He hadn’t liked the assignment from the start. His company was more or less both the flank guard and the reserve. The CO had explained to him that since his company had taken the brunt of the risk in scouting out the objective, they would get the least risky mission on the assault.
“You know what to do if the rest of us don’t make it?”
“Yes, sir. But I doubt that anything like that is going to happen.”
“The odds are against it,” agreed the Battalion Commander. “But odds sometimes have nothing to do with reality. We both know that. So I want you to be prepared, body and soul, for what could happen. I want you prepared to finish up the battalion’s mission if there’s no one else around to command. Understood?”
Cornelius nodded. He wasn’t sure if he even believed in a soul, but he knew he had some kind of spirit, even if it was only the biochemical reactions of his brain. He had the spirit of a warrior, and he knew he would never quit as long as there was a breath in him. That he would never quit as long as there was still a mission to perform.
* * *
SECTOR IV ASSEMBLY WORLD, APRIL 7TH, 1002.
“Are your people ready, Samuel?” asked General Lucius Arbuckle, looking up at the lower ranking flag officer who was standing in front of his desk.
“Yes, sir,” agreed Baggett, whose Corps would be assaulting almost half the camps on the planet. “As ready as we’ll ever be. Though I must admit that some of my commanders are just a little worried about unleashing so much firepower among the civilians we are supposed to save.”
“It scares the hell out of me too, Samuel,” said the higher ranking general. “Oh, for God’s sake, have a seat, Samuel. You’re not some shave tail who needs to snap to attention at the sight of a star. You’re a goddamn corps commander, after all.”
“Yes, sir,” said Baggett, sitting in the comfortable chair and trying to sit at attention, which was difficult to do in the plush seat.
“When we’re alone, Samuel, you can go ahead and call me Lucius. You’re basically third in command of this circus we call an army.”
Baggett nodded. He was the junior corps commander, which put him right behind Lt. General Emani in the Army chain of command. There was one other corps commander who had him by a couple of months in rank, but she would be coming with the reinforcements from space, and would not be planetside from the start.
“We’ll just have to do the best we can,” said Arbuckle with a frown. “I’ve kind of fretted over the possibility that we might be killing millions of civilians myself. But there really isn’t much of a choice. It’s either that, or just stand by and let them all die, and that is unacceptable to all of us.”
Baggett sat there silent for a moment, letting what his commanding officer said sink in, before asking the tactical question that had been keeping him awake at nights. “What do we do if the Fleet doesn’t take out their space based assets? If they retain any planet aimed particle beams or kinetics, we could lose most of the civilians.”
“That concerns me as well, Samuel. But basically it’s not our problem, except that it is if the Fleet doesn’t do their job. Let’s not borrow anxiety where we already have our fill. The Spaceheads will do everything they can to take care of their part of the mission. They know what’s at stake, as much as we do, and some of them will be New Muscovites. So I expect they will do everything within their power to make sure we don’t have weapons fire coming down on us from orbit.”
“Yes, sir. It’s just..”
“I’ve read your record, General,” said Arbuckle, leaning back in his chair. “That mess in Fenri space would have driven most commanders mad. It was not your fault that you didn’t have space support at a critical juncture. It really was no one’s fault, not even Fleet’s. They didn’t have time to do a pickup, and anyone they had evacuated ju
st would have weakened your position on the planet. And staying and fighting would have invited a defeat that would have weakened the relief force. Believe me, I wouldn’t have liked it either, but I’m also not sure I could have done as good a job as you did at that point in my career. Going from brigade commander to command and control of an entire corps during a disaster like that. Very impressive, and what convinced command that you were ready for higher command.”
Baggett sat and looked at his commanding officer. He had also read Arbuckle’s record, the public portion that was used for press releases. As a subordinate he didn’t have access to the private, official use only report. But what he could read was still impressive, and he realized that Arbuckle hadn’t been chosen for this mission out of a hat. The man had a perfect combat record, and scores from the General Staff College that were near perfect. That training was missing from Baggett’s record, he had come up through the ranks too quickly to be assigned to the yearlong course designed to finish Imperial Army flag officers. Maybe someday that lack would be rectified, but he had been marked as a battlefield commander, and the Empire needed such at this time. Not flag officers sitting in classrooms.
“What we do need to worry about is taking out the Caca shore batteries,” said Arbuckle, leaning forward. “Two of your brigades are tasked with that job, and if they fail, we could lose some ships to ground fire.”
“My people will do everything they can to take out those weapons, Lucius,” said Baggett, sitting up in his chair. “They will give their all to make sure that those weapons don’t take our ships under fire.”
The Commanding Officer nodded his head, looking steadily at his junior corps commander. “You just worry about your part. Let Fleet handle Fleet. They’ll be there, the Marines they’re scheduled to drop will be there. As long as everyone does their jobs, all will go as planned. Maybe not exactly. That would be asking too much. But well enough to work with.
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 8: Soldiers (Exodus: Empires at War.) Page 17