“You want to accuse of sitting up here sitting behind our walls and burning our planet, come and see what those not born of our planet have done for you, come bear witness so that you may make a true decision,” Fal looked to them. They moved their wings in hesitant interest, the shock of his wounds putting them off edge.
“Watch,” Fal said, looking to Poj.
“Bring up a sub screen of any medical war.” Wings fluttered in agitation and despair as corridors and medical bays were filled with the wounded and dying. Medical chairs and medics were covered in the blood of many races working to save lives.
“Armory,” Fal said. People were being cut free of their HAPA’s and powered armor, rushed to medical. Others missing limbs, scarred, and walking wounded stepped into powered armor and started to see about their duties, all too many of them getting in a HAPA and heading out to the battlefield.
“External,” Fal grunted,
Commandos rushed to new positions, moving ammunition, reinforcements and the lifeblood of the lines to where it needed to be. Others hid behind cover that made up the remains of the line, new trenches were being hastily dug now they had the man power. Yet the viciousness had changed from a landscape of fighting, to isolated incidents.
Kalu closed with HAPA’s their charge faltering under the massive fire of those machines and the artillery rounds in their midst.
“Stay in the tunnels and make judgements of us all you want. You are free to do so because of the men and women that have laid down their lives for that safety. We will win this war, or we will lose it. If we lose then none of us will ever see Ershue again, if we win then we can repair the damage done and grow stronger through new roots.
“No matter the decision, remember that Commandos, people from different worlds, with friends and family many systems away, or fighting along side them, came to our aid. Are we so proud that we would put our forests before their lives? Their sacrifice?” Fal was tired, he made his way back to his armor getting back inside it.
“Yes, I ordered those nukes to be fired at the oncoming Kalu. I would do it again and I might have to do it in the future. For the safety of my people and my Commandos. Do not think I do not weep for the forests removed for later generations to never climb or perch on watching as our sun dips low in the sky. I know that the forests will regrow and that new generations might have a chance of living on this planet,” Fal said, his armor sealing and locking around him.
“Now we have planning to do. Watch and observe, or complain, but let us try and save your lives,” Fal said, looking to his people. Governor Isaz looked pissed as hell and others did as well. Yet none of them would hide the information from their people, not at a time like this. They were one and they were wounded, betrayal at this time would hurt them greatly.
“You think yourself as your saviors, but you are the killers of this world and our ways!” Isaz said, storming right back out.
Fal walked to the command table.
“You’ll always have a place on Parnmal with me and mine,” Kurft said.
“Thanks,” Fal said in a quiet voice, knowing the Kurft and a number of those in the room would have his back no matter what they faced. Whether it be pissed off planetary governors or Kalu in hand-to-hand. That kind of relationship couldn’t be explained only felt.
“I was telling the commanders here about our actions over the last couple of weeks,” Kurft said, moving so Fal could see the hologram. Kurft continued, “I was telling them about our retreat from the third line of entrenchments.” Fal nodded in understanding, pushing his thoughts of his people and his planet from his mind.
***
Yasu looked at the smoking ruin of a hundred square kilometers that had been the final stand of the Kalu. Nukes, lasers and rail cannons had remodeled the area. Other blackened holes marked the surface of Chaleel, marking the cost of removing the Kalu threat.
Five million civilians had died, being caught by Kalu before the Free Fleet or Chaleel forces were able to get to them. Kilometers of farmland had been churned up into oblivion, mangled black Kalu armor dotted the surface of the planet.
Eight Million Kalu had ended their advance on this planet, burned down with the ferocity of the Free Fleet’s warships and their Commandos making sure that nothing survived their passage.
There were pockets of Kalu still alive, but Delahil was already working to track them down.
Even with the Fleet above to support, thirteen thousand Commandos and personnel had lost their lives. A small price to pay to free the planet, but still a cost heavy on the hearts of the people who knew them.
Already people were surveying the destruction and looking to putting their lives back together. The Free Fleet ships were returning to orbit; merchant freighters were shipping in much needed supplies.
People were complaining about the destruction; with Yasu it fell on deaf ears.
Others were trying to find any loophole they could to keep the Free Fleet over Chaleel, protecting their world.
Salchar wasn’t having any of it. He had a mission, Chaleel was largely safe now, Sol needed his fleet now.
Freighters were moving more than just supplies, they were moving personnel from Parnmal up to AIH and Chaleel.
When they entered Sol they would have a full compliment of Commandos and more.
Yasu looked up from her data pad at the knock on her door. She was reviewing the latest information from AIH. Ursht had been engaged with the Kalu at Asul for the last four days, he was holding out and inflicting casualties that shocked even Yasu.
The man knew how to make a damned defensive position and was more than happy to use nukes that wouldn’t irradiate the planet.
“Come in!” She said, moving off of her bed.
The door opened and a familiar set of powered armor walked just inside the door, the occupant pulling himself free from it.
She smiled as James stepped out of his armor pushing his hair out of his face. They came together in a hug.
She held on tightly, tension she hadn’t known releasing from her shoulders, she took comfort in the embrace of his arms that wrapped around her.
They didn’t say anything as Yasu felt her eyes water, letting the sadness in, the loss and wounds. Boots death, Cheerleader’s fleet, Ershue, Jakram, AIH, Oolta Daestramus, the deaths of too many good people.
She felt Salchar shaking, his tears wetting her hair.
They fell to their knees, crying and grieving for their friends. Holding onto the other in support and release. Letting each other see a side that they would not show another soul.
Sometime later when the racking sobs had died and their sadness had been salved slightly. They hugged one another just taking time to be away from the universe, to be two lovers supporting one another in a time that ripped at their emotions.
They kissed one another, not with hasty passion but short and purposeful, issuing feelings that words couldn’t understand while taking comfort in the love of the other and their luck that they hadn’t lost everything.
Salchar comm buzzed angrily, it had been doing for some time.
“You need to grab that?” Yasu asked.
“It’s either Chaleel complaining about the damage or wanting us to stay,” he said the spell broken. “Some of their people are complaining about radiation damage. The damn things use up their material so you can plant as soon as the shock waves are done. Try to tell them that? No way!” James shook his head, the calm and decisive veneer of Salchar left at her room door.
“What’s the plan?” She asked.
He looked to the roof of her quarters.
“We resupply, salve our wounds and go to Sol. Hopefully we won’t be too late. The fleet will start moving in two hours,” Salchar said, James’ face becoming harder and resolute.
“AIH?” She asked.
“Monk’s reinforcements should be there, but Ursht reported that he had all but destroyed the largest contingent of a three hundred thousand plus Kalu. The other clans are alread
y hunting down the other Kalu, breaking them down into smaller groups and ambushing them. Ursht hopes to have his HAPA’s ready to assist within two days. Then they can take on bigger groups,” Salchar said.
“Are you going to do anything about the Chaleel looking to curb the Free Fleet?” Cheerleader asked.
“Yes and no,” Salchar said, looking to Yasu his face serious.
“The Free Fleet is currently the single biggest entity in known space after the Kalu clans, but then they don’t have more than a few thousand craft across the line, other than the Independents…” He trailed off in thought, she poked him, getting him back on track.
“Right, so if we win and peace comes then the Free Fleet is going to have a limited serviceability. It’s one of the reasons I said that we are a secondary force to the Free Merchant Fleet. We have the hulls and the people. We can haul freight and supplies across the stars, but if there’s peace there’s nothing for the Free Fleet to do.”
“So you’re going to gut it?” She asked, sitting up.
“No, we’re going to put the ships into reserve, constantly working on upgrades and such with an all-time Free Fleet component, but for the most part we will be merchants, traders, engineers. Planets will not support a solely military organization that they have limited control over. The Free Fleet is an insurance policy; one I hope never to be activated. If the Union or the PDF, whatever they come up with, falters, then the Free Fleet will be there. Until then there will be a home for any and all of the Free Fleet in the Free Merchant Fleet. The Free Fleet will be a mercenary fleet and a protection force of traders if there is ever trouble,” Salchar said.
“That’s all what if, maybe and possibly right now. We are fighting on five different planets and one-star system. A future, even a possible one is a little far away right now,” James said, letting his anxiety show.
Yasu stroked his face, feeling the lines which had been but faint shadows just weeks ago.
He held her hand kissing it, they lay like that for a time, Salchar on his back and Yasu wrapped around him.
She traced nonsensical lines on his chest as he traced his fingers across her back, both of them luxuriating in the touch of the other.
***
“What the hell you think you’re doing taking a nap in my engine room! Get that damned wakeup into you and help out with the inspection. The Commander wants us moving in three hours, we’re damned well going to be moving in three hours!” Eddie barked, pushing his cowboy hat back as the startled human flinched awake and away from Eddie, eyes wide.
They scrambled off Eddie’s manipulators moving in annoyance.
“I see some things don’t change,” Resilient said through the nearby ships speakers.
“People are always looking for a corner to try and catch up on the sleep they spent on their own activities. This is a damned war!” He said, moving to the nearby acceleration chamber, one of seven that fed directly into the manifolds to the rear of the ship.
He hiked his belt up, climbing the ladder next to the massive cylinder, pulling a wrench out and pulling the maintenance hatch off, snaking a cord into a universal port, his data pad updating with the acceleration chambers information.
“How long until we’re ready to move?” Resilient asked.
“We blew out a number of the maneuvering jets with their constant use. I’m having most of them replaced. We have the parts and we don’t have the time to fix them up,” Eddie grimaced, after a lifetime of hoarding parts and making do, it was hard for him to junk parts that could be repaired with a few hours of elbow grease.
“Will we be good for the three-hour mark?” Resilient asked.
“We’re going to need to start with bomb-pumped acceleration, engine five.” He slapped the acceleration chamber he was sitting on, his other limbs grabbing a wrench and a screwdriver, both of them diving into the maintenance panel as another limb grabbed a new part from his vest.
“And two are showing some wonky readings. I’ve got people checking on the other engines to make sure they don’t go sideways as well.” The old chip set came back, he looked it over as other limbs pushed the new chips in, his wrench and screwdriver securing it into place as he put the old chip set down.
“Damn thing had a short, bad manufacture,” he said, knowing Resilient would log it.
“What about guns, shield generators and armor?” Resilient asked.
Eddie checked his data pad, pulling the cord from it’s port and closing the maintenance hatch.
“The gunners know their systems well enough. There are some issues with the hull being caved in and that annoying crap. I’m focusing on shield generators, after the modifications to War-stations shields I have a few ideas that might boost our overall strength with a bit of tinkering,” Eddie said, his manipulators excited.
“You and your tinkering,” Resilient said, sounding amused.
“Yes, me and my tinkering, I can think of a few times it came in handy!” He said, waving the wrench still in his hand as he made his way to the ladder and down it.
“The hull?” Resilient said, putting him back on track.
“The hull,” he sighed. They’d taken a few nasty hits and some Kalu idiot had smashed into the hull right above hangar three, taking out four guns and making the hangar non-functional.
“We’re going to have to slap on armor where we can and bash the warped armor around the guns into submission. Entering and exiting atmosphere, even one nice and thin was hell on your structure and armor. We can’t make another entry into atmosphere until we get a full check on the superstructure, otherwise we might crumple up like a soda can in a machine press,” Eddie said, shaking his head, wandering to a new panel, pressing it. The assembly came out like a pyramid, layers of ships, machinery and operational sections of the machinery.
“Will we be space-combat ready?” Resilient asked as he started running tests on the equipment in front of him.
“Yes, though I’m going to need any and everyone with engineering know-how working to get armor plates on, change those maneuvering thrusters and help the gunners install any lost guns,” Eddie said, not letting that cloud his mind. It was easy to get swamped with work, he just needed to work on one thing at a time.
“I will pass word to Salchar,” Resilient said.
Eddie made waving motions, his manipulators twitching in thought at the odd readings he was getting from the matter compression and inlet valve.
Resilient’s questions were the only kind of report he passed up. He was too damned busy doing real work to do all the flipping paperwork around it!
Chapter Line in the Sand
“No time to sit around people, we’ve got those launchers in sector four deck nine to open up,” Shrift said, feeling damned tired as people piled onto his maintenance craft.
As soon as the tired engineers were aboard he gunned the engine, heading for the transport tunnels. The vessel was so big that walking or even taking the lifts would waste hours.
Other craft moved above, carrying personnel, materials, ammunition and even fighters. Shrift sat back, Devastahli’s automated systems took over driving. An organic piloting was liable to cause a jam. These tunnels criss-crossed the entire vessel, it’s life blood.
A few minutes later and they were being spat out of the tunnels, now in sector four.
Shrift rose up to deck nine and followed the map to an airlock.
“Seal up!” He said, everyone checked their gear and pulled their helmets on. Shrift did a quick check of the engineer sitting shotgun, they checked him before he looked to the rear of the craft he gave them a thumbs up, getting the same gesture back from them all. The airlock doors had closed behind them. He started pumping air out with a few taps on the controls in his gloves.
Air pumped out, no one was freaking out showing that their powered armor was good to go. With the general lack of sleep for the crew, Shrift made sure everyone was double and triple-checking their gear.
He sent another prompt, the air
lock’s doors opening to the vastness of space. Shrift rolled forward on the craft, crossing from one-point-four Earth gravities to zero.
He switched systems and thrusters pushed him away from the airlock, he turned and headed for the missile tubes.
It was hard to not look at the weapons fire of War-station, the ships on it, or the station’s shields shimmering from multiple hits.
Shrift guided the craft down to the melted face of the station, the missile tubes a rough outline. He fired a grappling hook into the rock, it pulled the craft down to the surface, he fired two more to make sure the craft didn't drift off.
“Grab the torches and carvers, this is going to be a pain in the ass,” Shrift said, hearing grumbles from the others. It sucked, but someone needed to do it.
He took a few moments to look at the silent destruction happening around him. It made him shudder thinking of the kind of destructive forces that those shields kept at bay and that the Free Fleet were unleashing on the Kalu.
They were six hours out from Hachiro, the Kalu seemed to dismiss Nancy, hopefully it would stay that way. The yard was armed and had shield generators, but it was no military grade combatant.
Takahashi, Yasu’s unofficial Uncle and only surviving teammate of Samurai’s Revenge her Mecha Assault Two team, was on Hachiro pulling a defense together for the various installations around and on Mars. Shrift already knew that it would be a bloody affair.
He sighed, grabbing the top of the craft, pulling himself out of his seat, and floating back to the equipment.
“Those two are good to go,” Someone said, pointing to two of the cutters, working on another to make sure that it would work.
“Cheers,” Shrift said, grabbing one of the machines and firing a grappling line, the system was zero-g rated so he didn’t go cruising in the other direction.
He wheeled in the line, sending out another, the practice was called non-linear or non-magnetic material movement in zero-gravity environment, everyone called it spider manning.
War's Reward (Free Fleet Book 6) Page 8