The lack of gravity made her rise up a bit. She sighed, not caring, floating up by inches.
“Commander, Jorvut’s dead,” Onur said, sadness in their voice.
“Understood,” Cheerleader replied. She’d been wrong, she wasn’t too tired for tears.
***
Commander Wesom looked over the view screens in the mess. Some Commandos were removing their helmets all eyes watching the battle that was being waged on the edge of the Quarst.
Henry Classed Destroyers moved in their pyramids hammering the Kalu clan formations as they went. Jump fighters, Multi Environment fighters and bombers used the HCD’s cover fire to close with the Kalu, hammering them up close with missiles, rail guns and plasma.
Independent marked ships rushed towards the Kalu, their fighters didn’t form swarms like the Traditionalists but the flexible wing formations of the Free Fleet. They had also swapped out their lasers for rail guns and slapped on missile racks.
They had lost a good number of their ships, but there were still just over two-thousand up and fighting, not including their fighter power.
The Independents rushed to close with their adversaries at their best speed, though they didn’t need to face their enemy to bring them under contact, their broadsides tore into the Traditionalists sides, their only real armor on their bow.
Wesom had been following the battle. He and his were a contingency plan to support the space stations and second habitable planet in case the Free Fleet hadn’t been able to keep the Kalu at bay.
Cheerleader’s fleet had pulled the Kalu into contact, selling their ships dearly to pause them enough for Min Hae, Drux and Kalvin to arrive. Stopping the Kalu from ever threatening the second inhabitable planet or forcing Wesom and his Commandos into battle.
The combined forces served to split the Kalu fleet into clans, all thanks to the apparent betrayal of Kalvin’s fleet.
Drux had jumped on the traditionalists like a snake on a mouse, striking hard and fast, not allowing them to get stability, withering away their forces.
Cheerleader’s ships had been breached and were fighting the Kalu in close combat. Drux had sent what aid he could, but his ships were running on skeleton crews and they didn’t have enough people to spare for close combat.
The ships had held on, fighting for days inside their own hulls, floating away from battle.
Bregend’s relief HCD’s arrived wasting no time to jump into combat.
They had fighters unlike Drux’s forces, as well as full magazines, and most importantly Commandos. The HCD’s sent their commandos over and ended Cheerleader’s fight for the fleets survival.
Wesom looked over the details of those ships with dull eyes, his four jaws grating together.
His Sarenmenti eyes had seen all too similar reports from Jakram. The Free Fleet could damn well fight, but the Kalu had been born fighting. Their claws and mouths were not only a part of them, they were their weapons and more than capable of tearing and puncturing the Free Fleet’s armor.
They weren’t the best fighters in zero gravity, but if they closed with someone. Not many survived the encounter.
Ship Commander Taleel opened a channel to him.
“We will be moving to Ershue, Commander Drux assures me that none of the Kalu will set foot on ground or orbitals again,” Taleel said.
“Understood Commander,” Wesom said, seeing tracks on the system heading to the nearest jump point to Ershue. It would take thirteen hours.
“It’s about time I started knocking cobwebs out of my people’s heads,” Wesom said, standing, his powered armor responding, it’s familiar weight entombing him.
“I’ll let you get to it, let me know if you need anything,” Taleel replied, cutting the channel.
“We’re headed to Ershue, let’s start getting those cobwebs out and start some training. I want a training rota within the hour,” Wesom said, stepping on any conversations they were having and broadcasting to all of his commanders.
He got green lights of acknowledgement from them all. His people had grieved for the last six days on their transition. It wasn’t anywhere close to the time they needed and he knew it wasn’t going to get any easier. For now, he needed combat capable commanders, it was time to get them focused and not staring at the ongoing battle in-system.
Wesom looked back over the system map again.
There were nine spread out clans, all of them trying to hit the Free Fleet HCD’s or in combat with the Independents.
Their once powerful fleet of thirty-one thousand was now seven thousand strong and dwindling.
Nearly three-hundred Free Fleet ships had fought that fleet, eighty-five of those ships weren’t making it home, forty-seven had been destroyed, or their crews killed in the belly of their own ships.
It was the kind of battle that the Free Fleet never wanted to have with the Kalu. A stand-up battle with ships against ships would have gutted the Free Fleet quickly. Their tricks, tech and tactics had adapted to use their strengths, hammer the Kalu from a distance and ready themselves for another fight.
Cheerleader had destroyed well over Thirty thousand Kalu as they exited their wormholes at Inkal. She had a fraction of the Jumpers from that battle, most of them stripped to fight the Kalu along the corridor.
They had still taken out close to three thousand but it wasn’t planned it was thrown together. Cheerleader’s objectives were also different. She wasn’t trying to bleed the Kalu, she needed to stop them. The best way to stop them was to offer them battle. So she did and held on like a monkey on a tiger’s tail.
Her entire fleet was bashed and battered but they held on and they did their duty, claiming another two thousand Kalu ships.
Wesom pushed the emotions that threatened to rise to the surface. He had known people on those ships, but now was not the time to cry over their loss. He had to make sure their loss was not in vain, that their sacrifice for what they believed was upheld.
That’s why it’s called the Free Fleet, he thought his jaws tightening as he headed towards the armories. He had training to organize and a call to place with Ershue’s Commander Kurft.
***
To say seeing the Free Fleet shuttles breaking through Ershue’s atmosphere was a relief would be an understatement. Fal’s eyes flickered to various alerts, Kurft was issuing orders, his eyes also looking over the many screens scanning for information.
Fal had thought the information feeds overwhelming when he had first stepped into The Mound’s command center. Now they were familiar numbers, just data sets, maps and blinking lights.
Everyone in the command center had taken a fresh dose of wake-up, they all needed to be alert to make sure that the incoming forces were covered on their descent.
They were carrying precious supplies and food. They had fuel that would help sustain them and ammunition that would hold to Kalu back. Not to mention the commandos, the badly needed reinforcements were ready to go, just a week after their ordeal at Jakram.
Fal looked over the HAPA units deployed around the mound and the adjoining space port. They’d deployed all of the PDS turrets they had left.
The Kalu sensing something up were already stirring and charging The Mound.
Fal felt his side twitch, he had been fixed up by a medical chair but his new skin was still tight and itchy. He and Kurft took rotations going out with the HAPA’s and Commandos.
Both of them knew there was a need for more pilots and as long as one of them was in the base commanding, the other could see to helping out. The Commandos appreciated it as well.
Fal got to know them better, which made it all the harder sending them out. But they wouldn’t shirk their duty, so he wouldn’t ignore his, he’d push his feelings aside to command.
Fal looked at the remote sensors and the reports coming in from the scouts watching Kalu movements.
“We’re going to need nukes,” Fal said after a moment.
Silence seemed to cut through the command center.
/> “We have a mass of a hundred and fifty thousand plus Kalu warriors in this sector moving up, more are joining them by the second,” Fal said, highlighting the sector and the wave of symbols moving beneath trees.
“We’re already engaged across our lines, they will breakthrough,” Fal said, looking to Kurft. Kurft nodded tersely after a second.
“I want a spread of nukes right in the middle of the bastards,” Kurft said, people were shocked, they hadn’t opened up nukes on the ground, the destruction would be as bad as the super-fires from the Kalu ships landing zones when they’d been hammered by the Free Fleet in orbit.
“I will not ask a second fucking time,” Kurft’s voice was low and his teeth bared, making many Ershue flinch away.
The command center got to work.
Fal took a moment, closing his eyes as he pushed his feelings away. He felt like he was killing an old family member, one that had nurtured him his entire life, watching over him and always there with a kind smile.
The moment passed and he focused on the screen again. Tracks outlined the nukes with real-time satellite imagining. It showed the three missiles rise up from The Mound and arch towards the Kalu symbols. They spread out, the forward section opening and releasing the fifteen warheads in each.
Rolling explosions started at the tip of the Kalu formation rumbling backwards through the horde. Trees, plants, anything in the blast zone disappeared in blinding light. Shock waves tossed trees through air like they were nothing. Trees which had lived in their place for thousands of years, fires burned more.
Fal pulled his wet eyes from the sight.
“Sector two is getting hammered, task them artillery support,” Fal said.
Kurft reached out and tapped Fal’s shoulder in understanding.
“I want a trajectory burn and time estimate on the first shuttle to the last,” Kurft said, opening up a channel to Fal and Commander Wesom leading the forces that would be calling Ershue home for the foreseeable future.
“Wesom, are you linked in?” Kurft asked.
“Me and all my Commanders,” Wesom replied.
“Good, let your shuttle pilots know that we have little to no air cover anymore. That said there shouldn’t be Kalu fighters, but Murphy,” Kurft said.
“Understood,” Wesom went off the channel for a few seconds before coming back.
“How are you on the ground?” Wesom asked.
“We’re thin, we have all of our PDS deployed and all but two companies of HAPA’s, everyone else with a gun and armor is out there, down to the cooks and engineers,” Kurft admitted.
“We’ve got a compliment of Sixty MEF’s and the shuttle pilots aren’t too worried about coming back to the ship with full missile racks,” Wesom said.
“Get a fire plan for those warheads, I want to know what yield, type and give the shuttles cones of fire. Request that the MEF’s do strafes along our lines,” Kurft barked at the air controller.
They nodded and started breaking it down into tasks for their staff.
“I didn’t even think to ask about fighters, we haven’t risked a sortie in so long,” Kurft admitted.
“Me too,” Fal said.
“When you’re in the shit and it’s doing nothing but painting the walls you rely on what you know. Don’t worry about it. Now I’m coming down hot with one-hundred and seventy-three Commandos, only sixteen thousand don’t have HAPA’s. We don’t need to all drop at the landing pad. I’d suggest we drop off around the perimeter in the worst spots. leaving the pad open for supply drops,” Wesom said.
“That sounds like a plan, give me a second I’ll get you drop positions,” Fal said, Kurft nodding his agreement.
The command center was a haze of activity, Commandos fought in the trenches and manned the guns of the Mound. Artillery never stopped firing as shuttles swooped in, their guns and missile racks blazing.
The shuttles didn’t even set down, their ramps already open as they came into a hover, Commandos piling out and rushing to the lines. Commanders barked orders and greeted their new comrades with hasty words and got to the dirty work of holding the line. Shuttles took off as soon as the last Commando thumped down into the dirt of Ershue.
The shuttles dropping off supplies barely even stopped, opening their rear ramps as they bled off speed, tilted upwards and dumped the containers filling their holds. The containers thumped onto the ground and the shuttles raced towards the heavens.
Some never made it to the ground and others to the heavens, the Kalu fire was overwhelming, three more nukes had to be used to keep the Kalu back. It seemed like an incentive to the Kalu.
MEF’s screeched as they plunged through atmosphere shaking the trees with their passing, they staying low to keep out of the Kalu’s sights until the last minute, their cannons firing, their rounds timed to explode just above the Kalu, leaving lines through their formations as the MEF’s sped away only to come back on a new attack run.
The Mound and the flattened and burnt forest around it seethed with Kalu, the Commandos desperate efforts tightening up as much needed ammunition was rushed to the lines and reinforcements bolstered their positions.
For eighteen hours that continued, Kalu blood covered the hillsides, soaking the Ershue ground.
Medical wards were filled with the cries of the wounded and the silences of those who had lost their battle with death.
People collapsed from exhaustion in the command center, returning as soon as they could sneak away from medical staff.
Five times the lines were breached, the Kalu made it to the exterior halls of the Mounds armored walls once.
Fal had been with the walking wounded and platoon strength Commandos, holding out until a Company could make it to support them. Fal had his HAPA’s leg cut off but he still fought, a laser cutting through his right shoulder, wing and side. Wake up and Hell fire kept him in the fight with one working arm.
When he woke, the fighting had subsided and he was missing his right arm and wing. His fourth lung had been removed, his organs were stitched together. He would get replacements later.
He strapped himself in powered armor, numbing agents made him not feel the pain of his side and his nerve ports made him forget about his missing arm. His powered armor acted like it was never missing.
He made it to the command center, the medical wards were overflowing into the halls. There were so many wounded. Medics rushed from patient to patient, hauling them into medical chairs, administering Hellfire, categorizing them, slapping on new skin applying pain killers and doing their best to save lives.
Kurft looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, his eyes sunken and his face showing lines that Fal didn’t think had been there before the battle.
He and Wesom were looking over a table of four other Commanders who were listening intently to Kurft’s explanation as he pointed to the holographic display of the mound. It showed the hillsides leading up to the defenses and armored redoubt as well as the deep tunnels that led from the redoubt down to the living quarters of the Ershue.
“We ask for you aid, not the destruction of our planet!” Someone yelled, Fal looked at the shouting Ershue, planetary governor Isaz, the regal looking planetary leader stormed through the command center, heading right for Fal who was closing with the command table.
Kurft saw the Commanders around the table look to the man and Fal, Kurft stood up from his table. The room was silent, Ershue looking away from the Planetary Governor and Fal. The Governors wings indicated he was outraged.
Fal blinked trying to understand what was going on, not much sleep and the detox the medics had put him on while they worked to save his life made his brain fuzzy.
“What?” Fal asked.
He injected wake-up into his system, his headache fading away and his mind becoming clear. He knew he would pay for it, but something was up.
“You were given your position to protect the Ershue, not to destroy our planet!” Isaz said, now in front of Fal and poking his armored breastp
late with his finger, his face pulled back in a snarl.
“I have done nothing but try to defend the lives of those under my command and hidden under the mound,” Ershue said, his wings moving in agitation under his armor. Fatigue stopped it from reaching his voice, three-hour surgery in a medical chair took it out of you.
“You took the trust that we laid in you and ordered nuclear weapons to be fired on our planet. You have watched as the Free Fleet bombed the Kalu ships and our Ershue into ruin! You deserve that armor, that mark of your aggression, you forget the world that has raised you!” Isaz said, his wings moving in wild strokes of authority and anger.
“If we did not use the nuclear weapons then many would not be standing at our walls and our people may be fighting the Kalu with their own wings,” Fal said, tired of the argument and Isaz’s inability to see reality.
“The Commandos would have held them back and it would not be so that we might emerge from the dark tunnels you forced us into, to see our world burned and tortured with weapons of war!” Isaz looked to the commanders around the table.
“See what you bring war mongers, see what you reap. This is your doing! You were to protect us, instead you take our world as hostage and laugh destroying a planet that has grown together for thousands of years. Beasts like you have no place on our planet!” Isaz turned his back on the now angered Commandos, the highest insult of an Ershue, dismissing them as part of their planet and being.
Fal had enough, he opened his armor, coming out as one of them.
The Ershue recorded everything and shared it with all of their people, the blue lights of recording devices followed Fal as he stepped out of his armor, he stumbled, reaching with his arm to stabilize himself. He forgot he didn’t have an arm anymore.
Commander Wesom caught him as Fal looked to his missing arm and mangled side.
“Thanks,” Fal said, steadying himself and trying to not look at his missing limbs, both arm and wing.
Wesom simply nodded, letting him go as he was stable.
This caused a stir within the ranks of civilian Ershue. Seeing such wounds was a terrible sight to them. Some keened at his loss. His solitary wing flashed in anger.
War's Reward (Free Fleet Book 6) Page 7