Rob shook his head. Given the alternatives, one man's career didn't stack up to losing so many people. His comm bead glowed as he issued orders to his MEMSAI. Suddenly, the fire alarm sounded. Hundreds of people, confused, stopped what they were doing. Rob stopped the alarm and made an announcement over the PA.
"Everyone, please remain calm. We have a security incident. Everyone move calmly and quietly to the basement stairs on the south side and go down into the basement. Please remain calm. There is no cause for concern at this time. Please move quickly to the basement stairs and go down into the basement."
Rob issued several more orders via his MEMSAI:
His MEMSAI, Casper, replied quickly:
Rob's comm was now overwhelmed with queries coming in. His prioritization ignored all but a few. He could see Nick, across the hall, looking at him.
Rob felt, rather than saw, Ginger and Phoebe come up behind him.
"What do you think, Rob?" asked Ginger.
Rob turned to her, but before he could respond, a tremendous explosion went off outside in the courtyard, blowing out every window in the Hall. Glass and bits of wood and plaster flew everywhere. Rob was cut on his hands and face, and he could see that Ginger had taken a few hits too. Phoebe had been mostly shielded behind them.
"Get to the basement!" he yelled at both. "Quick!"
They started running for the top of the wide staircase leading down to the basement. An almost continuous barrage of explosions could be heard across the base, some near and some far. A few seconds of screaming when the first explosion had occurred quickly faded, and people now focused on running for the basement. Rob held back, trying to assess how many people were still topside. Most of the crowd had disappeared down the stairs; there were only twenty or so people still on the main floor, many of them bleeding from the flying debris. Ginger pulled off to one side and tried to help some stragglers lying on the floor, several women with evening gowns covered in blood. Rob reached the top of the staircase and turned to Phoebe.
"Phoebe!" he said. "Get them all down to the bottom level, I think there may be a sub-basement down there somewhere. Get them as far down as possible. Then form them up for defense. I'll get you some help as soon as I can."
Phoebe nodded and was gone, helping people ahead of her down the stairs. At that moment, another huge explosion went off, knocking Rob down and tumbling him down the first few steps. Plaster, bits of wood and other shrapnel zipped over his head, making that particular singing sound unlike anything in the natural world. Ginger, landing almost on top of him, crouched below the level of the main floor with him.
"That was a big sucker," she said.
"Yep," said Rob. "My base comms are down now, but just before they disappeared the Arizona sent a gencom. They ID the battleship as the Taizong."
"That rat bastard Cobb!" yelled Ginger in his ear. "I knew that sonofabitch was trouble!"
Rob nodded silently. Suddenly he saw his assistant Mika sprinting across the main hall through the rubble, carrying a half-dozen rifles in her arms. She jumped down the stairs and slid to a stop beside him, panting. "Here!" she shouted, handing a rifle to each of them. Rob took the rifle, checked it, noted it was fully charged. Mika handed them both a bandolier of extra charges.
"Damn, Mike, I told you to put a couple of extra rifles in the office, but wow..!"
Mika grinned. "No, you said to get some extra rifles. You didn't say how many."
"Good stuff, Mike," said Rob. "Take the rest down to the bottom floor, find Phoebe, and help her put together a defensive position. Put yourself on the Marine local loop to stay coordinated."
"Aye, sir." said Mika. "See ya!"
Mika scuttled off down the stairs. A second later, another tremendous explosion took out the far north wall of the hall, and most of the north ceiling came down, blocking the north entrance to the basement stairs. Rob ducked, then looked at Ginger.
"Let's go down another level, I think the rest of the roof might come down," he said.
"Agree," said Ginger. Together they moved off down the stairs. The stairs reversed direction halfway down at a landing, turning to go the rest of the way down to the first basement level. A long hallway down the center of the basement had doors opening on both sides into additional ballrooms. Nick's Marines were finishing up two makeshift barricades about halfway down the corridor, one on each side of the hallway, backing into the center ballrooms. Another team of Marines worked at the far end of the corridor, creating a barricade at the top of the stairs leading down to the next lower level, which was the sub-basement storage area. Rob and Ginger came up to Nick and they huddled.
"Can we hold them here?" asked Ginger.
Nick shook his head. "I don't think so. If they're willing to bombard us, then they'll bring at least a couple of hundred, maybe more, to take the hall. We can delay them for a while, but we can't hold more than twenty, thirty minutes I think."
Rob looked at Ginger. "Do you have any comms?"
Ginger shook her head. "No. Everything went down when we were running for the stairs. I think they got the Base AI. All I have is the local loop with Nick's team."
Rob nodded. "Me too." He looked at them. "So I read this as a bombardment for ten-fifteen minutes, then they'll land troops outside in the courtyard and we'll get the main assault on the Great Hall. How about you guys?"
Nick nodded. "That's how I read it."
"And we can't possibly hold for long here." Rob turned to Ginger. "Ginger, I recommend you go down to the bottom level with Phoebe and Mika and direct the defense down there. We'll hold them here as long as possible and try to buy you time for reinforcements to arrive."
Ginger nodded. "Take care of yourself, guys." Then she ran down the stairs to the next level.
Rob looked at Nick. "Bet you didn't expect this for your Sunday night activities."
Nick grinned. "Not hardly. But I think we can give them some surprises, what do you say?"
1929 Hours - Arizona
Vlad heard the Assistant Engineer, Constance Turner, come up on the command net.
"Vlad, what the hell is going on? The AI is doing an emergency start!"
"It's no joke, Connie. The Taizong is coming up our ass weapons hot and about to start shooting any second. If you don't get me Mains in the next thirty or forty seconds, I think we're toast."
"What the hell?" said Connie. "Why is the Taizong attacking us?"
"Connie, not now," said Vlad calmly. "Get me Mains or bend over and kiss your sweet ass goodbye."
"Thirty seconds, Vlad," said Connie. "This better not be a joke."
Vlad turned back to the holotank. His MEMSAI pinged and the holotank updated with a sidebar message,
Rogers pointed at the Taizong in the display. "They'll be in firing position in thirty seconds, sir."
Vlad mulled it over. "It's going to be tight, guys. Here's what we're gonna do."
"Rogers, when I give you the word, give me max emergency burn on the station keeping thrusters. Burn 'em out, I don't care. Bring the nose up and around to face the Taizong. Try to stop the pitch-up with our grav deflectors to her and enough angle to shoot. Got it?"
"Aye, sir,
" yelled Maria.
"Carter, start shooting as soon as you are even close to acquisition. Don't wait for a good sight picture, we're trying to keep them off balance. I want them ducking their heads. I don't care if you miss 9 rounds out of 10, for the first 10 seconds I want you to just throw everything possible at them even if the WEPSAI still doesn't have a good lock. Got it?
"Got it, sir," said Carter, his voice a little less shaky now. The holotank side messages updated rapidly now:
"Hot damn!" yelled Vlad. He assessed the holotank rapidly. The Taizong was coming in hot above and behind them, positioning for a perfect shot into their rear to take out their main engines. Cruisers screened each side of the Taizong, both bombarding the planet below with railguns. Behind the Taizong, the rebel frigate John Paul Jones was settling into orbit as a rear screen for the Taizong. The RDF frigate Moscow, following the Arizona in orbit, was almost directly below the John Paul Jones, just a little behind her.
Suddenly the John Paul Jones sent a flurry of railgun shots toward the planet below.
In the tank, Vlad saw the Moscow rotating to fire on the rebel frigate. The Moscow had a bad angle, as she was almost directly beneath the John Paul Jones, but she was rotating fast and within seconds got her guns elevated enough to start shooting. Her first shots caught the frigate by surprise, enough so that Vlad saw the John Paul Jones pitch up and away from her position behind the Taizong.
"Now, Rogers, now!" yelled Vlad. With a lurch that pushed Vlad down hard into his command chair, the Arizona started pitching, bringing her nose up and over to face the Taizong, which was just coming into shooting position above and behind her. Vlad heard the station keeping thrusters whining as Rogers pushed them into emergency. They passed through 45 degrees, then 90 degrees. Rogers reversed thrusters to start slowing the pitchup. As they neared face-on to the Taizong, both the Arizona and the Taizong opened fire simultaneously. Vlad felt and heard the Arizona's railguns "thump" as they pumped out rounds. At the same time, he heard a tremendous "clang" as the Taizong got a round against their grav deflector, and then heard a distant explosion as a round penetrated the Arizona somewhere aft. On the holotank, Vlad saw a sidebar message:
"Rogers, run us right past her, quick now!" yelled Vlad. Rogers slammed the throttle home and the Arizona shot forward like a stuck pig, passing by the Taizong in seconds. As they went by, Carter and the WEPSAI peppered the Taizong with a volley of shots from fore and aft railguns and beamers, leaving a trail of holes in the Taizong and, as they cleared her rear, knocking out at least one engine.
In four minutes, the Arizona was clear of the Taizong and out of functional range of her railguns. Vlad turned her around and headed back to the battle, but this time with an operational battleship. Within a minute, he had a perfect shot at the back of the frigate John Paul Jones, still weaving to avoid the Moscow shooting from below. A dozen beamer and railgun shots and the John Paul Jones exploded in a ball of fire, throwing debris in every direction. Vlad grinned, a hunter's grin now that he had a fully operational ship. He saw the Taizong ahead, still throwing railgun shots down to the surface and shooting at the Moscow, which was taking terrible hits.
"Rogers, take us down that asshole's butt and let's welcome him to Kamilaroi!"
1940 Hours – Tolleson Hall
The bombardment had stopped a few minutes earlier. Nick and Rob moved a dozen men back upstairs to the ruins of the Great Hall and put together a hasty barricade facing out towards the main steps of the building, pushing together as much debris and solid materials as they could. Now Nick's Marines lay quietly behind the barricade, facing out toward the courtyard.
They had built several more barricades between the main entrance and the sub-basement. Their plan was to trigger a succession of ambushes, each followed by a retreat to the next lower barricade. This first ambush would be as the invaders attempted to make entrance to the building; then they would retreat to the top of the South staircase, where a second barricade had been thrown together at the top of the stairs. From there, a second ambush would unfold as the invaders came into the Great Hall. On the next level down, half-way down the basement hallway, their third barricade stood. At the very end of that basement hallway, where the stairs started down to the sub-basement level, their fourth barricade waited. And down in the sub-basement, where 200 terrified VIPs huddled, their fifth and last barricade was being assembled, their last-stand hope. It wasn't much, but with the few troops they had, it was all they could put together.
"That bombardment didn't last as long as it should," said Nick. "I wish I knew what was going on."
"Yep," said Rob. "But maybe that was good news - maybe we got some ships moving and distracted them. How many troops do you think they’ll bring?"
"Three or four hundred, I think,” Nick answered. “If it were me, I could do it with a hundred, but they're not as good as me. They'll bring a lot more."
"So maybe ten, fifteen shuttles?"
"I think so. Maybe more, maybe less."
"And you're pretty sure they'll land right out in the courtyard?"
Nick nodded. "Time is not on their side. They know that reinforcements may come at any time. They'll take the quickest route."
Rob nodded silently. Nick turned to his team, speaking loudly and clearly. "Guys, remember your ambush protocol. Five seconds of fire, concentrate on personnel, get the hell out of here and back to the South staircase barricade. Don't lose your head and fire too long, if you do, you'll probably be dead."
A chorus of "Aye, aye, sir" came from the fire team. Nick looked at Lt. Jeff Abrams, his number two, and Gunny Sergeant Ron Cook, his senior NCO. "Guys, see you at the top of the stairs. We'll be waiting there and fold you in as you come down."
"Aye, sir," said both in unison. Around him, the Marines behind the barricade made a strange sight. Because they had planned to be guarding a social event, each had originally been wearing dress blues, but they had long since discarded their heavy formal tunics. Glass and debris lay under them, some adhering to their clothes. Their blue trousers with red blood stripe down the sides were covered in plaster dust and, in some cases, blood. Each had a pulse rifle and a bandolier of charges.
Rob and Nick carefully moved back to the South staircase, and ran quickly down to the next level, then down the central hallway to the halfway point. Because the ballrooms were connected internally, they had realized they could set up a third barricade here and still have a path of retreat to the other, North staircase going down to the sub-basement.
As Rob approached the half-way point, he saw the muzzles of five rifles on each side of the hallway, behind barricades made of furniture and equipment. Rob started to duck behind one of the barricades, but Nick pulled on his shoulder.
"Let them do their job, Rob. We need you to stay with me."
Rob nodded, and they trotted to the end of the hall, where the North staircase went down to the sub-basement storage area below. The upward-going staircase at this end was blocked by the collapsed roof – dozens of huge concrete blocks and other debris closed it off completely - so they didn’t have to worry about an attack from the main floor at this end of the hall. Here Ginger, Mika and Phoebe, along with volunteers from the guests hiding below, were finishing up the fourth barricade.
Rob took a second to fold Phoebe into his arms, kissing her and then looking into her eyes.
Phoebe looked back at him and said, "I want to stay here with you."
Rob shook his head. "Phoebe, I need you
downstairs with the guests. Please."
Tears showed in her eyes. "Rob, I... I can't...if something happens to you..."
Rob kissed the tears off her cheeks, then looked deep into her eyes.
"I will be fine, and so will you. Go down with Ginger and Mike, take care of our guests. That's our job, Phoebe."
Phoebe nodded, then kissed his cheek and turned to go. Ginger and Mika were ahead of her, heading back down the stairs toward the sub-basement. Phoebe's hand held Rob's until the last second as she walked away, then she was gone.
Rob and Nick turned quickly, went back up the hallway and up the stairs again to the top of the South stairwell, where the second barricade overlooked the litter and rubble of the main floor. In front of them, they could see the Marines huddled behind the first barricade at the building entry, checking their weapons.
They both heard shuttle engines at the same time. "Here they come," said Rob. He unlimbered his rifle from his back and checked the charge again, then looked at Nick.
"Good luck."
Nick grinned. "You too!"
***
Captain Armand of the Hanoverian Guard screamed at his troops as the back ramp of the shuttle fell away. "Go, go, go!" he yelled, following them out and down the ramp. As trained, they spread out quickly, forming a perimeter, taking cover behind the rubble and debris strewn around the plaza from the bombardment. Within seconds, all ten shuttles had disgorged their cargo. Three hundred paramilitary troops filled the plaza, some huddled behind cover, others kneeling, waiting for the order to advance. Noncoms yelled, and some order started to come out of the chaos. Captain Armand spoke into his comm.
"Sergeant Helmand, first platoon to the right and secure the South perimeter. Sergeant Gibbon, second platoon to the left and secure the North. Sergeant Wofford - take third and fourth platoons and advance into the hall. Any resistance, shoot first and ask questions later. But remember, try to capture senior officers alive, if possible."
"You bet, Cap!" shot back Sergeant Wofford. Over the tacnet, Captain Armand heard Wofford getting his troops organized. Soon he had two platoons - 160 men - advancing slowly toward the Great Hall. They advanced to the bottom of the wide stone steps, peering into the dim recesses of the building.
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