Scouts Out: Books One and Two

by Danny Loomis

The first mine detonated, and the remaining Wasp swooped in on the rear of the cruiser. Its blaster speared one of the two remaining drive nodes, melting it to slag. Two het lasers caught the Wasp, causing it to explode. Worthington flinched. Her ability to inflict more damage had just disappeared. With no other distractions, the cruiser could now respond to the corvette’s every attempt at offense.

  At least we slowed it, she thought. It wouldn’t be able to keep up with a tramp freighter, let alone travel through a transit point. The Argyle raced away, and evaded the missiles fired by the cruiser. Unfortunately, they were also racing away from the transport that had come through the transit point with the cruiser.

  “Marston ahoy,” Worthington commed. “The cruiser is damaged and not going anywhere very fast, not on one drive node. It still has teeth, though.”

  “Good job, Argyle. What’s your damage?”

  Worthington grimaced. “Primary laser out, and both fighters are gone.”

  There was silence for a moment. “And the transport?”

  “The cruiser’s still shielding her. They should be in your neighborhood within the next ten hours. The cruiser’s top speed is below a thousand kpm, so the transport is moving accordingly. How’d your chore come out?”

  “Smooth,” Fairing said. “No defenses to speak of, so we opened the base up like a cardboard box. A squad of marines is down there now, to see what’s left.”

  “I’ll be following ten light-seconds behind the bogeys,” Worthington said. “My missile tubes are still okay and I’ll try to get my primary laser back up by then. Do you want to tie me into your tac net?”

  “I was just going to ask if that was possible with the damage you’ve taken. Our combined firepower should more than even up the odds with the cruiser. Plan on action stations in three hours, since I’m on my way out to meet them.”

  Just as Marston came into scanner range of the cruiser and the transport it shepherded, two missiles were fired by the cruiser. Captain Fairing was puzzled, since they were two light seconds beyond effective missile range. Both missiles self-destructed at their range limits, and the resultant disruption of electronics gave Fairing instant understanding. ECM missiles. Electronic counter measures wasn’t a new game to space warfare, but the failure to penetrate the sudden snow appearing on all scanners showed the Alliance’s research and development program had come up with a new twist.

  The snow slowly cleared from the screens, and now only one vessel was visible, the cruiser.

  “Argyle, were you able to keep tabs on the transport? It dropped off my screens.”

  “Negative, Marston, our screens were hashed by those ECM’s. It must’ve gone to cloaking mode.”

  “Let’s go to Maneuver Baker on this cruiser,” Fairing said.

  The cruiser abruptly turned broadside-on to the Marston, and its shields dropped. “Hold fire, Argyle. I think they’ve had enough.” Fairing’s next words were on the all hail frequency.

  “This is Confederate destroyer Marston calling unidentified ship. Power down immediately or be fired upon.”

  “Marston, this is Alliance light cruiser Thunder. Powering down now,” came the reply.

  Fairing keyed back to Argyle. “Beatrice, I’ve got things under control here. Head for the planet, and try to nail that transport before it offloads whatever it’s carrying.”

  “Will do. Watch those tricky bastards, Captain.”

  “I only hope they try. Marston out.”

  Within two hours Argyle was back in high orbit over Star’s End, with a somber crew awaiting the transport’s arrival. Twenty of the crew dead, another five too badly injured to perform duties, another third of the crew lightly to moderately injured. Two other casualties added to the mood, Lieutenant Kwan and Warrant officer Ruska. Both had died when the cargo bay doors had been blown off, killed by decompression before the emergency generators were able to reestablish a force field. Captain Worthington had personally informed Staff Sergeant Smith of the loss.

  A blip appeared on the scanners and Worthington leaned forward, the look of a hungry predator on her face. “All stations. Our target is entering low orbit. Approach and target with the graser.”

  She opened hailing frequency. “Unknown ship, you have violated Star’s End airspace. Stand down for boarding, or we will open fire.”

  The transport began spewing a myriad number of dots on the screen. “Shuttles and escape pods, Captain,” Cartier said.

  “Open fire on the ship,” Worthington snapped. The ravening, wide angled beam of the graser impacted on the transport, pierced bulkheads and screens. Within seconds all that remained of it was an expanding ball of plasma.

  “Track the shuttles and give the planetary authorities their position,” Worthington ordered. “I want satellite recon of those landing zones, and a head count on troops if possible.” That was the least she could do for the ground-pounders.

  “Linda, get Marston on the horn and let them know we got the transport, but not before it offloaded its cargo.”

  Worthington slammed her hand on the arm of the command chair in frustration. So close. So damned close!

  STAR’S END (Day +26):

  Ian did a 360 degree sweep of the area around their hideout. He and Pointy had gotten word about Lieutenant Kwan when they reached the assembly point last night. Damn! It still grated. You think they’d take losses on the ground, not up in orbit safely inside a ship. He sighed, and clambered back into his foxhole. They’d moved into a small valley just over the ridge from the westernmost mine site. Lessened their chance of discovery.

  His helmet com clicked twice, the signal that Pointy was headed back from putting out sensors. The hills blocked his scanner’s ability to pick up anyone, friend or enemy, much further out than a couple hundred meters. Sensors on the far side of each ridge gave them an excellent panoramic coverage out to five kilometers.

  “Company’s comin’,” Pointy said as he slid into the foxhole beside him. “Valkyrie and her chicks. I gave ’em a headin’ to our location. They should be here in the next few minutes.”

  Ian finished entry of sensor locations and codes into his scanner, and called up another 360 view. All clear except for three blue ciphers inching towards their location. “Wonder how they made out on their tour,” Ian said. “I didn’t hear any artillery fire missions being called by anyone else.”

  “No sense of adventure I guess,” Pointy said, easing out of his ghillie suit.

  Ian’s radio blipped, and three ghostly figures moved into sight fifty meters from their location. They were visible only if you knew what to look for, since their ghillies had a rippling effect at the speed they walked. Ian stood and waved them in.

  “You boys have a good time while I was gone?” Brita asked, going down on one knee next to the foxhole.

  Ian handed her his scanner so she could update hers with the sensor grid that surrounded their location. “Yeah, even managed to talk Pointy into helping me dig some foxholes while we waited.”

  They were gathered around the central foxhole with four others spaced twenty meters from it, on the points of the compass. He and Pointy worked all morning to dig out the hip-deep trenches.

  “Good,” Brita said. “Now get out of my foxhole and into your own. We’ll get together for a de-brief soon as we’ve settled in.”

  An hour later, Ian wound up his portion of the brief. “…After we reported what happened at the training camp to Lieutenant Kwan, we finished our sweep and ended up here.” He managed to keep a quaver from his voice when describing what happened at the settlement, but felt emotion creep into his voice when he mentioned the Lieutenant.

  “We’ll miss Kwan,” Brita said with a headshake. “He was a prime leader. It’ll be hard to find a replacement of his caliber.” She took a deep breath. “Pointy, what’ve you got to add?”

  “Not much, Sarge, except that Irish was modest when he told you what he did to those gooners at the settlement. I’ve never seen anything like it, or even heard lies
told about action like that. If it wasn’t for all the blood and piss flyin’ around, you’d of thought he was performin’ a ballet.”

  Brita smiled. “I got an abbreviated sitrep from Kwan about what you were up to. Sounds as if you did a pretty good job yourself with that ammo dump, Pointy.” She shut off the recorder that had been on for the debrief. “Off the record, I’ve got to say you two are either the luckiest troops alive, or you might—just might—be somewhat adequate soldiers.”

  She turned the recorder back on. “Irish, Pointy, you not only accomplished your mission, you did so with skill and valor. The report I’ll give to the Regiment Commander will so state.” She again turned off the recorder. “On a personal note, wish I’d been there to watch you exterminate those slimy shitbags. I would have enjoyed it immensely.” Ian felt his face heat up at the unexpected praise.

  “Our own jaunt wasn’t as exciting, but it was interesting,” she said. “We also spotted a lot of foraging parties and several groups that looked more like troops on training maneuvers than patrols. Along with your data, it feels like a build-up is in progress for a takeover of the western seaboard.”

  “You think there’s enough of a force out here for that?” J.C. asked.

  Brita gave him a disgusted look. “Use your head. We saw fifty soldiers. Irish and Pointy about the same, not counting the dead ones. Multiply that by the rest of the area within thirty klicks of the mines, and there’s a helluva lot of troops. That doesn’t even begin to figure in the other bad guys wandering around Richland and the rest of the coast.” Her comm beeped and she held up a hand. The message was apparently on the command net, since none of the others heard the call.

  “Roger, Bravo One. Understood and out.” Brita turned to them with a smile. “Good news first. The task force has just entered the system and is expected to orbit in four days. We’re to meet up with Franny and his crew at the Red Diamond Mine and put ourselves under Lieutenant Stanton until the task force lands.”

  Her smile turned grim. “The bad news is fifteen shuttles made planetfall from an Alliance freighter before it got fried. Nine landed on the south continent, and six just forty klicks southwest of us. The closer ones were two attack and four transport shuttles. They counted sixty troops getting off those shuttles. No idea about those on the other continent. Couldn’t get a recon satellite over before they vanished.”

  “What’s that mean for us?” Blade asked. “We gonna have to go kill gooneys a little sooner?”

  Pointy snorted. “That’s gooners, man. Gooners, like in goons.”

  Brita made a face. “Not yet. We’ll hold in place at the Red Diamond Mine. Until the task force gets here, we’re not allowed to go get them.” She gave an irritable shake of her head. “And that means, gents, we saddle up and move out pronto.”

  Ian groaned in exasperation. All that digging. For nothing!

  CITY OF RICHLAND (Day +27):

  The air crackled with tension when Major Devries and Captain Vogel entered and seated themselves. The conference room’s other two occupants, Senator DeVille and Colonel Racine, stared daggers through them. Being summoned to Richland by Senator DeVille was not unexpected, but sooner than anticipated.

  “Thank you for being prompt, Major,” the Senator said. “Since our time’s limited, I’ll get to the point. What did your Alliance think to gain by forcing their way into our system as they did?”

  Devries allowed surprise to cross his face. “Obeying your wishes, Senator. They attempted to deliver the munitions and training cadre you ordered. Fortunately, all but a few loads of weapons managed to land.”

  “Being escorted by a cruiser doesn’t add up to a quiet smuggling job,” Colonel Racine said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

  Devries nodded emphatically. “Agreed, Colonel. It was supposed to escort the freighter through the jump point, and return to Alliance space. Unfortunately, they were treacherously attacked by two Confederation vessels before they could retire.” He handed several pages of hard copy to Senator DeVille. “As you can see by this list, we were able to land ninety percent of the weapons and ammunition you requested, plus all the training cadre you wanted. Two companies of elite commandos.”

  Senator DeVille stood and crossed to the window overlooking the city, fourteen stories below. “Why did the bulk of your cadre end up on the south continent, since they’re needed here?”

  “When they inserted under the stressful conditions present at the time, there was no choice but to land in the south. We were lucky to get at least a few of the shuttles here. Once the situation stabilizes, we’ll bring them up, of course.” Inwardly he was raging, and wanted to throttle Colonel Racine. He’d gotten information about the number of shuttles, and where they landed much faster than he liked.

  Both the Senator and Colonel Racine relaxed. Good. They’d bought his story.

  Senator DeVille seated himself. “It may be some time before that can occur, Major. The Confederation has sent a task force in response to the raid we conducted on the mine, a somewhat larger response than any of us anticipated.” He stared at the table top, deep in thought. “How many troops do we have under arms at this moment, Colonel?”

  “Seventeen hundred, sir. With the shipment of Alliance weapons plus what we already have, we’ll be able to arm all of them, plus have eight additional mortars.”

  The Senator turned to Major Devries. “How about your forces?”

  “We have five platoons of commandos, sir. There would have been more, but some unforeseen occurrences caused us to suffer almost a platoon’s worth of casualties.”

  “We also lost over two hundred men in one of those occurrences, Major,” Colonel Racine said. “Any word yet as to what happened?”

  Devries looked at Captain Vogel, wordlessly inviting him to answer.

  “The sniper training base was apparently spotted by either a neighbor or even possibly someone who escaped from the settlement. The training base is another story. Some fool put the ammunition dump in the center of the encampment. There was no sign of any enemy activity within ten klicks of the site, so it must have been an accident.”

  “A most unfortunate accident.” Senator DeVille shrugged. “Now we need to look to the future. I’ve learned the Confederation task force will be landing at the Red Diamond mine’s airfield. Our planetary president will be on hand to greet them, along with several key members of the senate who supported the request for aid. Do you think it’s possible to attack the airfield? Possibly even killing the president and those most loyal to him?”

  Colonel Racine smiled. “The bulk of our troops are already within forty kilometers of the airfield. I don’t expect the landing to occur for another five days, at least. I’ll need to start moving them today. Yes, I believe we can.”

  The Senator turned to Major Devries. “If you could work with the Colonel on a tactical plan?”

  “Of course, sir. I would like to suggest my men be used in two ways: first, we have two squads of snipers, who should be used in that manner. Captain Vogel will command them. Secondly, the remainder should be divided among your units to act as advisors and trainers when time permits. Is that agreeable with you, Colonel?”

  Racine inclined his head. “Sounds good, Major.”

  Devries rose to his feet. “In that case, gentlemen, I’d better meet with my subordinates. I’ll get back with you later today, Colonel.”

  Once on the street, Major Devries and Captain Vogel hurried towards their ground car.

  “Captain, get back to the base. Divide the platoons into squads, and attach them to company-sized units. They will operate as a separate unit during any fighting. I don’t want them being killed due to poor leadership from the rebels. As I told them, you’ll lead the snipers. Try to pair your surviving veterans with ones just trained. Disrupt their lives much as possible. Have the bulk of your sniper teams move to the mines and here to Richland. Just prior to the main attack, begin your mission. Once they hit the airfield, move your teams back to the b
ase, and await my orders. Questions?”

  “If the task force is successful in its landing attempt?”

  “Ultimately it will be,” Major Devries said. “We just want to make it extremely uncomfortable for them. They may chase us away, but it’ll cost them. Especially once we’re off-planet.”

  “What about our forces in the south, Major?”

  “I’ve already given them the go-ahead to take over the rebel base located there. If all goes well, no one will even know it happened for several weeks since they’ve been put under radio silence for the duration of the conflict. As a prize of war, we’ll be paid more than the Senator planned. To the tune of several million credits worth of diamonds he stashed on the space yacht he has there. Intended to use it for his escape vehicle if all went wrong.”

  Captain Vogel gave his customarily humorless smile. “I’d like to be present when he discovers what we’re doing to him.” He slipped into the car, and was gone.

  Major Devries watched him disappear into the busy traffic of downtown Richland. The unexpectedly large response by the Confederation had shaken him. It would be next to impossible to achieve the victory his Alliance masters expected. Getting the diamonds home would still make him a hero. That was the key. Hurt the Confederation troops, then withdraw. The final stroke would be one not even the Senator was aware of. He smiled mirthlessly. Such an economic blow would not be something their government would be able to survive. Maybe later the Alliance would come back and try again when a new government was established.

  * * *

  Captain Sanchez was not a happy man. He shifted in his chair and watched the cabinet meeting unfold toward disaster. Ever since he’d turned the Company over to Lieutenant Stanton so he could act as the military and political liaison with the planetary government here in Phoenix, he’d felt out of his element. That feeling was accentuated while he watched President Franklin Martinez and his cabinet plan what he felt was a mistake.

  “General Smith, what’s the current situation at the Stobol mines?” President Martinez asked, running fingers through silvery hair, an affectation that made him recognizable to every resident on Star’s End.