Eli looked to where Tenney stood. “I understand. On one hand, it saddens me to lose such an excellent XO. On the other hand… I couldn’t be happier.”
“Good, because my mind’s made up,” she said with a grin that he both saw and heard. “I can be a soldier in any unit. But I can’t be your girl in this one.”
His head reeling, he was still thinking through his response when Twigg approached and interrupted them.
“The troops are ready for your orders, Captain. Captain Zin and the platoon leaders for both A and B companies are in the staging room next door, awaiting your arrival.”
The feeling of wonder and excitement that threatened to burst forth from his chest was new, something he’d never felt before. But it was good. He smiled as Adrienne—his girl?—passed by them on her way out of the room. She gave him a look that seemed to promise more than he ever could have hoped for.
“Um. Thank you, First Sergeant.” Eli replied to the Minith sergeant as he struggled to dampen his emotions and put his and Adrienne’s conversation behind him. He needed to focus his thoughts on the task at hand. He shook his head,took a long, breath of reprocessed ozygen, and went about the task of clearing his head. With an effort akin to lifting a carrier vehicle, he shifted his attention toward what Twigg had just told him.
Captain Zin.
Until now, he had been too busy to consider Captain Zin’s thoughts about what was taking place. He could no longer put that off. It was time to face Zin, his more-experienced peer who commanded the Minith rangers in B Company, and convince him that the plan he had come up with was in their best interests. “How did Zin seem to you?”
The question was loaded, and both knew it. Eli wasn’t only concerned with how the Minith captain felt about following a much less experienced company commander. He also had to consider Zin’s personal affiliations. Did he stand with the Alliance, or did he stand with Drah?
“He seems . . . disgruntled that he and his warriors are not leading this mission. Otherwise, he seems his usual self.”
“Hmm,” Eli mused. It wasn’t much to go on. Being angry was well within a Minith’s standard response range for any situation. “Very well, we stick with the plan. Let’s brief Zin and our platoon leaders so we can get this mission underway.”
Ten minutes—and one angry, but resigned Minith captain—later, everyone was briefed and ready to lead their respective teams through the various portals down the hallway. Other than Tenney, no one questioned the decision to use the aliens’ transportation technology against them, or if they did, they kept it to themselves. The technology that brought them to this ship from Rhino-3 had proved reliable enough so far. Perhaps that test was enough. Eli hoped so. Their lives, and the plan to help defend against the attack that had already begun on Telgora, depended on it.
The view on the ship’s screens of the Zrthn battle carrier landing and expelling so many Zrthn fighters onto their planet had sealed the deal for Eli. It also helped convince the rest of the leaders in both companies, and in so doing, had alleviated Eli’s concerns about Caption Zin, to some extent. Not enough for him to change the plan but enough for him to think the Minith would do his job.
There were eight ships in the Zrthn force: one battle carrier, one support ship, and six activity ships. B Company of the Shiale Rangers, led by Captain Zin and his platoon leaders, were tasked with porting to the support ship and the five remaining captivity ships. This allowed for a force of twenty rangers per ship. Based on the intel he had received from Ah-loon, those ships were manned by crews similar to what they had experienced on Captivity-1. In Eli’s estimate, twenty Minith rangers would be more than enough to capture those vessels. He couldn’t be certain, but it was likely that they would find the previous occupants of Rhinos -1 and -2 aboard one or more of those ships. If so, Zin was also tasked with rescuing them.
The battle carrier was in another category, however. Though intelligence from Ah-loon was lacking regarding the carrier, Eli assumed it would be heavily protected. Although most of the occupants had obviously already departed the ship, there was no reason to believe they hadn’t left behind a substantial contingent of armed fighters. Because of this, he assigned the remainder of his forces to that direction.
The rangers from A Company would lead the assault on the Zrthn carrier. The size of the portal limited the number of soldiers that could make the journey at once. It wasn’t ideal, but groups of three armored soldiers would go through the portal at a time, side-by-side. Eli planned to be one of the first three. If all went well, the entirety of A Company—all 120 armored soldiers—would make it through the portal in under three minutes and establish a secure perimeter on the ship that could be defended.
Eli’s company would be followed by the 350 Minith warriors who had been stationed on Rhino-3. That group would be led by First Sergeant Twigg. Eli had some reservations about this contingent of fighters, but Twigg’s assignment as their leader, combined with the fact that they were posted to a remote rock where Drah had no influence, convinced him that it was the right move to make. Once aboard the Zrthn carrier, they would need every available soldier, and the Minith filled that bill. Last, the Minith contingent would be followed by eight hundred of the human troops that had been posted to the Rhino comm station.
If they succeeded in breaching the carrier defenses, and joining the fight on the ground, Eli knew they would still be severely outnumbered by almost ten-to-one. There was nothing he could do about that, though. He had a job to do and soldiers to lead.
Sending Zin and his Minith through their respective portals took under a minute. Once they were clear, the line of armor-clad rangers that stretched out behind Eli moved forward to take their place. He looked back at them, took a deep breath, and tucked his Ginny into his shoulder.
He gave a nod of readiness to Aank, who stood next to the portal controls, then watched as the portal flickered to life.
“First group moving in three . . . two—”
He didn’t get a chance to reach “one.” A pair of squids appeared on the far side as the portal opened. Eli moved forward, firing the Ginny as he went. Beside him, Ellison and Benson matched him step-for-step and round-for-round.
* * *
Drah pounded the desk that had once belonged to his superior. He had taken the office for his own and installed his own staff of loyalists in the remainder of the building. For the most part, the plan was working well, despite the unwillingness of most of his people to readily take his side. No bother. He knew who had joined him and who had chosen to stand idly by while he did the work and took the risks.
His anger was now directed toward the video feed from the pacers he had deployed at the space pad. Everything had been going as expected for the landing force. The Zrthn troopers had begun to spread out across the tarmac where their ship landed. He had been informed that all resistance in that area was cleared, so the sudden appearance of human soldiers, though few in numbers, startled him. But the ease with which the Zrthns overran them quickly settled his nerves. He made a mental note, however, to punish his sources there for their ineptitude.
What really bothered him was the human jet vessel that had appeared and the plasma bomb it had released onto the Zrthn wave. He cursed his followers’ inabilities to destroy the vehicle that created the ring of death and wondered what type of fallout he would hear from Oinoo for that particular failure. Fortunately, only one of the bombs had been released, which helped somewhat. The lack of follow-up drops told Drah that the humans had very few of the jets and—more importantly—very few bombs at their disposal.
Still, he put out orders to capture and man the antiaircraft weapons that stood vacant around the space pad facility. If the humans managed to rescue one jet, they might have rescued others. If so, they wouldn’t get another free pass.
Having taken steps to counter the human threat, he turned his attention to another vid screen. That pacer showed his troops—nearly two thousand in total—as they neared, and prep
ared to enter, the Telgoran underground.
* * *
The spaceport was the largest facility on Telgora in terms of overall area. Measuring two and a half square kilometers, it was primarily a flat, open expanse of tarmac and concrete surrounded by a network of support buildings and a random scattering of abandoned equipment and vehicles. Designed to accommodate two motherships, the flat expanse was just barely large enough for the Zrthn carrier.
Becca studied the large ship, and the army that surrounded it, from a ridgeline on the east, that looked down onto the spaceport. Although she knew the ship was more than three kilometers away, the enormity of the alien craft made it seem almost close enough to touch. It was only when she focused on the thousands of alien troops circling the ship that she regained perspective. From her vantage point, she couldn’t make out what type of weapons they carried, but assumed they were well armed.
The horde had spread out to encompass the support buildings that ringed the landing area. Here and there, she noted groups of human bodies—soldiers who had fallen trying to defend against the invaders. The hundred or so humans hadn’t stood a chance against the numbers aligned against them.
Intermingled with the Zrthns, she spied large contingents of Minith soldiers. They seemed awful cozy together and Becca understood at once that these were more traitors to the Alliance. In total, she estimated the force below to be around twelve to fifteen thousand combined fighters. Fortunately, they were in a defensive perimeter that was enormous. As a result, their lines were thin. Thin meant they were vulnerable. Breaching the line would be possible, but to what end? She considered an attack that broke through the line, then focused on the ship in the distance, but quickly discarded the notion. The ship could retract the ramps that currently stood open, long before they reached the ship. That would leave her force trapped in the middle where they could be slowly eaten, bite by bite. They’d mete out a fair share of punishment but would end up decimated in the long run. That was less than ideal.
She noted the mistlike aura around the aliens that Captain Gurney had reported, and wondered if that presented a weakness that could be exploited. She didn’t see how, but filed the notion away for future consideration, while her mind worked over the problem.
Lined up for a half kilometer behind Becca stood more than a thousand human soldiers, ready to do battle. It wasn’t a significant force when compared to the numbers on the plain below, but she was glad to have it. After leaving the recruit training grounds an hour earlier, she had managed to collect five hundred more fighters on her passage here. More and more straggled into the ranks with each passing minute as the humans they passed saw, followed, and caught up with the advancing force. She had put Boyle in charge of sorting them out and getting them into units that could be maneuvered for effect. She was especially glad that many of those who joined them brought the tools of their trade with them. In addition to the standard small weapons that all Defense Forces carried, she noted the addition of three tanks and two artillery units to her growing force. Those, along with the jets above, could provide long-range support for an attacking force.
If only she had enough soldiers to mount an effective attack. Again, she struggled with the odds and how to best use her small army against those below.
“Alpha-21, this is Conway,” she reached out to Gurney, an idea starting to form.
“Yes, Colonel,” came the immediate reply.
“How are you guys doing up there?”
“We’re getting a little anxious, to be honest, Colonel. We want to light up some bad guys.”
“Patience, Captain. I’m working on it,” Becca replied. She liked the pilot’s attitude and shared it. She wanted nothing more than to pull the trigger with one or more of the aliens below placed firmly in her sights. “How many strafing rounds do you and your fellow pilots have?”
“Full load in all three, Colonel. We can do some damage.”
“Excellent, Captain. Do you see how the Zrthn defensive perimeter circles the ship?”
“Um. Yes.” Becca recognized it was a dumb question. From his perch up in the sky, the pilot would have an excellent view.
“Let’s thin the herd a bit, Captain,” she began.
“Coordinated strafing runs around the line?” Gurney asked. He was ahead of her, apparently.
“Yes, Captain,” she confirmed. “Save your plasma drops, but these guys are lined up nice and pretty. Let’s make ’em pay.”
“Oh yeah! We’ve got this. Give us a minute to coordinate and then enjoy the show.”
Becca couldn’t help but smile, despite their dire circumstances. They were severely outnumbered, but the human spirit always seemed to rise to the occasion.
“Roger that, Alpha-21.”
Chapter 28
“Alpha-22, on my mark, proceed to the target, turn south and circle the ship on a clockwise route,” Captain Gurney ordered. There was nowhere else he’d rather be at this moment than where he was: nestled comfortably in the cockpit of his fighter carrier. He felt a small twist of nervous anxiety in his chest, but the sensation was quickly overtaken by an angry need to strike out against the enemy below. All of his training and work at becoming one of the best pilots in the alliance had been to prepare him for what was to come, and he had to smile. He had never felt so alive. “I’ll turn to the north and attack in a counter-clockwise maneuver. Focus your fire on the outer ring and, with luck, we’ll meet on the far side and continue the run.”
“Roger that, Alpha-22, ready on your mark.”
“Alpha-23, when we begin our runs, you work on the slice of the pie that directly faces the colonel and her merry band of ground pounders. I don’t know what she has in mind, but we might as well soften things up for her.”
“Roger, Alpha 21. I’m not sure what these things eat, but I’ll give them some plasma to chew on.”
“That’s the spirit, 23,” the lead pilot replied.
Gurney had only been in the air for a couple of hours, but outside of the single plasma drop, their time had been a monotonous game of watch and wait. He wanted to hit back at the aliens who had invaded an Alliance world and killed his brothers and sisters. He was especially anxious to pull trigger on those traitorous, Minith flockers that had joined the ranks of the gray, off-world misters.
Misters. Yeah, that’s as good a name as any for the waterlogged creatures.
“Let’s take out these misters and the Minith who’ve joined them, shall we?”
He received dual affirmatives, and gave the command to execute their assigned maneuvers. Upon giving the mark, he turned the nose of his craft toward the enemy and tweaked the joystick to initiate an approach that would take him around the ship in a counter-clockwise fashion.
Gurney placed his jet’s automated gun sights on the conveniently arranged ranks of enemy below, began the wide, looping approach that would carry him around the ship, and triggered the dual plasma cannons built into each wing.
The purple-colored tracers cut the air and closed the distance to his target in under two seconds. His speed was such that he barely had time to register the damage he was bestowing on the misters below, before he was past them and engaging more of the invaders. Occasionally, a large, green, two-legged target registered in his view. When that happened, he made a slight juke to the right or left to accommodate those special targets. He didn’t know how effective those moves were, but he felt a pleasant tingle in his chest that made them worthwhile.
He was halfway through his pass when a sudden, powerful punch tossed him sideways.
The punch was followed by a loud clap and an immediate change in elevation.
A second punch slammed his helmeted head against the jet’s clear canopy. Flock! His instincts kicked in, and without thinking, he peeled away in a roll that changed his course, and initiated a steep climb. He had suddenly gone from the hunter to the hunted, and he switched his mindset accordingly. He didn’t want to feel a third punch, so he raced upward and away, his goal now to ou
trace or outmaneuver whatever might be tracking him.
“This is Alpha-23,” Gurney heard his fellow pilot yell. “I’m under fire from Alliance air defense!”
Gurney didn’t have to tell the other man that those were no longer Alliance positions. The Minith aligned with the misters had obviously taken over the air defenses in place around the spaceport.
But he now understood who was tracking his own craft. That knowledge gave him both hope and despair as he made another, sudden change in his course and altitude. The hope came from knowing exactly what he was up against. He knew the systems that were targeting him, had trained against them hundreds of times and knew their strengths and weaknesses. The despair came from the same place. He knew he had a fifty-fifty chance at outmaneuvering a handful of the weapons. Unfortunately, the spaceport was surrounded by more than a handful. There were dozens of the air defense weapons deployed around the facility. The only question now was how many were in the hands of the Minith traitors?
“This is 22, I’m hit!” The previously calm demeanor was gone and Gurney listened helplessly, embroiled in his own struggle for survival. “I’m going down!”
Gurney cursed. He then juked right, dropped the nose, and pushed his craft as hard as he could. Distance between his ship and the weapons below was paramount, and he fought for control as his aircraft began a violent, teeth-rattling shimmy. At least one of the hits had done damage. He offered a silent prayer to the pilot in Alpha-22 and fought to stay airborne.
The view of the ground in front grew larger as he dropped altitude and gained speed. He was thinking he might just make it out of this jam when he spotted an unexpected sight ahead. He put his damaged vessel on a course to get a closer look, then keyed his mic and sent out a query. He understood the danger of multitasking at this moment, but had to get a message to Conway.
“Yes, Gurney, I’m here,” came her immediate reply.
“Colonel, the shout’s hit the air,” he keyed. “We’re under fire from the air defenses around the alien ship.”
Son of Justice Page 26