A Faded Star 3_The Battle for Lashmere

by Michael Freeport

  Several more Woduur were still firing on his position. He dropped back into cover and looked over at the wounded Marine. Cooper wasn’t moving. He shifted to his left and stuck his head up from cover again, but impacts hit all around him. He rolled out to the right and got his rifle up just in time to score a clean hit high on the torso of one of the Woduur.

  Gunfire intensified from the other side of the enemy position, and then suddenly died off. Valencia didn’t see any other targets. He turned to look back at Cooper. There was a row of smoking holes in his chest armor.

  Valencia checked behind him and saw helmeted heads starting to poke around the pile of rubble, and all sounds of combat ended. He waived at the other Marines and quickly went to Cooper’s side.

  He flipped the corporal’s faceplate open and saw that Cooper was alive, but his face was an expression of agony.

  “Cooper. Cooper! Corporal!” Valencia shouted, trying to get his only surviving squadmate to respond. Suddenly, a pair of gauntleted hands intruded in his vision.

  Let me take a look, Sarge. I’m platoon thirteen eighty-two’s medic.”

  Valencia took a half step back and, belatedly realizing how dangerous the situation was, checked his passive scanner. No Woduur in range just this second, but that could change instantly. Valencia took a step forward, looking for the officer in charge. Lying among the rubble was a Captain, but the hole blown through his armor made it apparent he was in no position to issue commands.

  “Who’s in charge here?” he asked.

  A few seconds later, one of the armored Marines waved at him. “I’m Sergeant Skorn. The captain and our second lieutenant got themselves shot. APC’s back this way. The sergeant pointed.

  “APC? Great, how did you get that down here? The base is outside the perimeter.”

  “We air dropped in about two hours ago. Been nonstop fighting ever since.” Skorn led Valencia about fifty meters down the street, and an APC was backed through the front of a restaurant. The massive black parachute was still draped around the front of the building. “They must have seen us coming. We landed right on top of forty or fifty of the buggers.”

  “Do you have your electronics suite set up to block their sensors?”

  “No. We haven’t had time to breathe, much less make a combat emissions analysis.”

  Valencia grinned behind his faceplate, despite the gnawing worry he had about Cooper. “Let me send you what I’ve got. It should help keep us out of their targeting reticles.” Valencia keyed his transceiver and sent the emissions analysis he’d completed back at the apartment complex.

  Skorn nodded and said, “Received. Looks good. I’m sending it to the rest of my team, give me a few seconds.”

  Valencia glanced back over his shoulder. He saw Cooper was sitting up, his helmet was off, and his eyes were open. He seemed to be talking to the medic. A flush of relief overcame him. When the Woduur had first landed, the squad he’d been in was overwhelmed so fast, there wasn’t time to think about what happened, but now he and Cooper had fought side by side so often that he felt a strong kinship for the man. It was hard to believe that was less than three days ago.

  “Okay, Sergeant, we should be far less likely to show up on the Woduur sensors, now.”

  Valencia nodded. “Good. What’s the status of the APC?” He took a step towards the machine.

  “Front axle is blown. I’d just bypass it, but the wheel hub’s locked, so the front tire just drags. That’s how we ended up in that shop.”

  “Any damage to your electronics suite?”

  “No, just the axle,” Skorn responded. He stepped up to the side of the vehicle. He swung the side access hatch open and motioned for Valencia to follow him. The interior was brightly lit, and all of the systems were fully functional to Valencia’s cursory inspection.

  “Looks good,” Valencia observed. “Remove the electronics suite first, pull as much ammo, power armor spares, grenades, and medical supplies as possible. Can your men be ready to move out in ten?”

  Skorn nodded and said, “We’ll get it done, Sergeant.” Skorn gathered the other Marines and began to strip the APC.

  Valencia stepped back outside and walked to Cooper. He was lying on a field stretcher with most of his armor stripped off. A wad of white bandage was taped in a lump on the right-hand side of his chest.

  “You okay, Coop?”

  “Yeah. That last shot got through the armor. Doc got me fixed up, but that hurt like a mother.” Cooper gave Valencia a brave smile. His eyes were unfocused, and there were tracks in the dirt on his cheeks.

  “He’s going to be okay, Sergeant,” the medic said. Valencia turned his attention to the man. “I’m Corporal Miller.”

  Valencia nodded and said, “Good job, Doc. Thanks for taking care of him.”

  Miller said, “Wish I could have done more. We lost more than half the unit since we landed.” The medic walked over to the APC and started unloading the medical supplies.

  Everything was proceeding smoothly until Valencia’s sensors gave him an alert. A large contingent of Woduur were approaching from the east. He keyed the suit comms channel. “Pack it up, folks. We have to move now. I have fifty inbound hostiles from zero niner zero.”

  A chorus of affirmative responses came back, and the Marines sprang into frantic action. The APC sensor suite was hastily strapped to the back of one Marine, while several others carried heavy loads of expendables and field rations. Four men and women were arrayed behind the force as a backstop to delay the Woduur if needed.

  Valencia snatched up a prybar he saw lying on the ground and thrust it through the carry strap on his back. “Move out, people. Advance in stagger formation double time.” A pair of Marines took off running ahead of their more heavily laden squad mates. The Hospital was a little more than two kilometers from their location. Short work for the battle armored troops. They quickly left the Woduur behind, their suit’s electronic suites preventing detection.

  Upon return to the hospital, Cooper and the other injured men and women were tended to by Miller. Valencia and Skorn got to work setting up the hospital basement as a base of operations.

  Valencia was walking the perimeter of their base several hours later.

  Skorn asked, “What do we do from here, Sergeant?”

  “We hit them. Slash and fade attacks, but we hit them over and over again until their will to fight is broken.”

  Chapter 5

  Admiral Franklin Stokes paced the perimeter of his bridge. His thoughts were fixed on the battle that had ended less than two hours ago. More than three quarters of the Lashmere fleet had been destroyed in a shockingly short time. In addition to the losses among the warships, several of the stealth corvettes had been lost during the battle. The Woduur and their ring ships were devastatingly powerful. How many sailors and marines had died under his command this time, he wondered…

  He shook himself from his reverie. Lashmere Naval Command was still active and able to communicate for the time being, and that was a good thing. He tried to focus on the fact that some of his command had survived to fight on. If only he could devise a way to defeat the Woduur weapons.

  He looked over the navigational display on the main plot. Buckman’s Star was a fine refuge for the moment. It was close enough to Lashmere that the interstellar comms would work just fine and there was a lot of debris in the system the fleet may be able to hide in. If the Woduur showed up in force, they would still probably have to run. He glanced at the clock mounted to the left of the main plot on the forward bulkhead.

  “Has it been an hour yet, Exec?” Stokes asked.

  “Not quite, sir. Another four minutes,” Bendel said.

  Stokes was usually a patient man, but he was desperate for news of his home world. “Very well, Mister Bendel. What word on our repairs?”

  “We’ve gathered enough materials to repair our battle damage. The repairs shouldn’t take more than ten or twelve hours to complete. We’ll have to evacuate the portion of the s
hip that’s being repaired, of course.”

  “Good. Start coordinating schedules with the repair ships. I want to make sure Victorious is in fighting trim as soon as possible.” Three salvage and manufacturing rings, evacuated to Buckman’s star had joined the beleaguered remains of Stokes’ force when they’d arrived.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Sir?” Woodard said from her science station off to Stokes’ right.

  “Yes, Miss Woodard?”

  “I think I have a working theory on what the Woduur were using as a weapon. It’s an extension of the technology used to salvage debris and ships and so on when a ring ship passes over it. The manufacturing process relies on several factors, one of which is the ability to project a field that weakens molecular bonds, thereby breaking even highly complex materials down into pure elements.”

  “Yes, Lieutenant, I remember the theoretical briefing we had back at the space dock. What have you figured out?” Stokes’ voice came out testy. His exhaustion and frustration at the outcome of the battle boiled over into his tone.

  “Well, I think the Woduur have found a way to focus this field and project it in an area around their ships. There are two advantages as far as I can tell. The front of any area being targeted by this field would cause any object to weaken its molecular cohesion to the point where it would simply disintegrate. The second advantage my working model seems to indicate is that the same field generators would have a strengthening effect on the ship using them, making it far more difficult to damage.”

  “Sounds like a good theory, Miss Woodard. What does the computer have to say about it?”

  “The math all works based on what we know about the Woduur manufacturing process. The biggest hurdle I can’t solve for is how they focus the energy field. The ring ships have a contiguous channel of focusing waveguides that force the projected energy to do something that pretty much breaks the rules of physics in a small, confined space. To do the same thing at a great distance and to be able to focus it on a target like a ship is still something I can’t accurately model. Unless I can get a good look at their construction, I don’t think I can figure it out. The design isn’t in the database copied from Aeternum, either.”

  “Pretty safe to assume that the Woduur would protect the knowledge of how to build such a dangerous weapon,” Stokes said.

  “Time to contact Lashmere Command, sir,” Bendel interjected.

  “Good. Send the signal, Exec.”

  A few seconds passed, and Admiral Coffee’s broad face appeared. His features were grim, and he was wearing a utilitarian uniform, rather than the dress whites his position usually entailed. “Admiral Stokes, I’m glad you were able to get through. The Woduur have a single ship still here in the Lashmere system in addition to the one landed at Istyul City. Our sensor satellites are monitoring the remaining ships. They’re headed in your direction. I’m transmitting a program update that should help you to track them.”

  “Have the Woduur communicated at all, sir?” Stokes asked.

  “They’ve only offered to accept unconditional surrender. President Mitchell has rejected that option up to this point. Our ground forces are massing for an assault on the ring ship that encircles the center of Istyul City. The entire area is blanketed with signal jamming. We can’t see what’s going on inside the ring, but we believe they may be massacring the citizens.” Coffee shook his head. “I wish I had something more concrete to help you out. Unfortunately, you’re about to have your hands full. It looks like eleven ring ships are going to get to Buckman’s Star in about two hours. They aren’t running flat out for some reason.”

  “Eleven is probably all of the ships that were undamaged enough to pursue at all. We did hit them pretty hard. Despite the limited effectiveness of our attacks, we managed to hurt them.” Stokes clenched his fist tightly at his side and fought to maintain control of his frustration at being handled so easily by the Woduur.

  “That was my thought as well, Admiral. I’m going to give you your final orders until and unless you can devise an effective strategy to defeat the Woduur.”

  Stokes nodded sharply and said, “Yes, sir. We’re already working on it.”

  Coffee nodded back. “Admiral, your orders are to survive and escape the Woduur who are pursuing you. Devise a strategy that will defeat the Woduur. Make any alliance you can to build a force capable of pacifying the Woduur. Only when and if you can proceed from a position of strength are you to return to Lashmere. We will resist these invaders with all available resources.”

  “I won’t let you or the people of Lashmere down, sir,” Stokes said.

  “I know you won’t. Coffee out.”

  The screen shut off. Stokes said, “Mister Bendel, have we got the approaching force on our sensors, yet?”

  “No, sir. We only have five recon drones out at the moment, and our onboard sensors are damaged.”

  “Very well. Orders for all ships. Prepare to make a three hop trip to rendezvous point theta. I also want you to begin working on a system of movements that will allow anyone separated from the fleet to meet up with us. We might have to detach some of the stealth corvettes for scouting and recon duty. If they can’t make the first rendezvous, then I want them to be able to join up with us later. Try to use a system that only we will be able to figure out. Something from our culture, rather than a mathematical algorithm or constant.”

  “Aye, sir,” Bendel said, and he began working at his console to carry out his orders.

  “Miss Woodard, get Captain Patho for me,” Stokes ordered.

  “Aye, sir.”

  A few seconds later, Patho’s face appeared on the main plot. “What can I do for you, Admiral?”

  “We’re going to have to leave this system before we can affect much in the way of repairs. All ships are capable of interstellar flight, but I’m concerned about the Woduur following us around. We’re going to be making a series of hops in quick succession. If any ship falls behind, I want you to use the stealth corvettes to rescue survivors and hide from the Woduur if need be.”

  “Understood, sir. I’ll see to it,” Patho’s face took on a look of steely resolve.

  “Very good, Captain. Stokes out.” The screen blanked and then Stokes said, “Get me Captain Charis of the Stalwart.”

  A few seconds later the captain if the drone carrier appeared. “Yes, Admiral,” Charis said.

  “Captain, what’s the status of your drone compliment?”

  “Full load out, sir. Since I wasn’t in the fight, I am also full on stores and supplies. All systems are at one hundred percent.” Charis’ smooth, dark-complected face and pale blue eyes were relaxed, but alert.

  “Excellent. I’m issuing you a new set of standing orders. Reconfigure one hundred of your drones for sensor duties and keep a sensor net up at all times. Tie your sensor feed into the shared tactical net so all of the ships can view the data. Don’t bother doing it now; we’re going to be leaving in a few minutes.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “I’m sending over some new sensor updates that should make it a bit easier to track the Woduur ring ships as they approach. We need to maintain at least a twenty lightyear perimeter around the fleet for safety. I want to know if any Woduur ship is within fifty lightyears. Anything outside of that, just maintain a tactical track on it. Tie in with my command center to coordinate the tactical net updates.”

  Charis nodded, his eyes taking on a look of concentration as he began working through how best to carry out his orders. “Yes, sir. We’ll be ready.”

  “Excellent. Stokes out.”

  Bendel said, “Sir, I have the approaching ring ships on our long-range sensors.”

  “How far are they, Exec?”

  “Two lightyears. ETA is twenty minutes.”

  “Very well. Plot our first hop and spin up the point to point drive.”

  “Aye, sir.” Bendel started tapping furiously at his console. “Three possible routes, sir,” Bendel said. The main plot came on and sh
owed the local star group. Three paths were highlighted.

  “You’ve got sixty seconds to pick one, Mister Bendel,” Stokes said.

  “All three have good refueling stops at the end. These two also look to have possibly useful asteroidal belts.”

  “Let’s go to the one without the asteroids first. Until we know the Woduur aren’t nipping at our heels, I don’t think we can afford to relax long enough to breathe.”

  “Aye, sir,” Bendel said. “Jump calculations are now on the main plot.”

  “Very well. Inform the fleet we will jump as soon as all ships have their drives ready.”

  “Aye, sir. Transmitting the route, now, sir.”

  Slow minutes ticked by while the fleet brought its drives online and began making preparations for their first hop.

  “Contact,” Lokin said. “Ten light minutes, sir. Eleven ring ships right where they’re supposed to be. They’re moving in-system on their sublight drives, now.”

  “Very well. Time to weapons range, Mister Lokin?”

  “Coming up on thirty-one minutes at their current acceleration, sir.”

  “Very well. Miss Woodard, signal Stalwart to recover all drones. Next signal all ships to make ready for the first hop.”

  “Aye, sir. Transmitting orders now.” Woodard kept looking at the display, showing the eleven Woduur dreadnaughts moving towards them.

  “Is there a problem, Miss Woodard?”

  Woodard took a deep breath and visibly firmed her resolve. “Sorry, sir, those ships just look like death is coming for us.”

  Stokes nodded and said, “Worry about what’s in front of us, Miss Woodard. We aren’t embracing that old friend today.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Charis has recovered all drones. All ships report drives ready to begin their first hop, sir,” Bendel said.

  “Very well, Exec. All ships execute jump.” Stokes watched the plot as his small fleet formed their jump rings and vanished in near unison. Victorious was only a few seconds behind, having waited to ensure no ship was left.

  “Jump complete, sir,” Bendel said. “All systems report no status change.”