Time Strike

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Time Strike Page 15

by Doug Dandridge


  “Of course I want to see them,” said the young man, the faces of his family in his mind’s eye. Devera, Cornelius Junior, and his adopted daughter, Rebecca. They were his life. Or were they? He sure couldn’t wait to leave them behind so he could return to duty. He looked up into the multiple eyes of the being. “My Emperor needed me here, so here I am.” He knew that was true, though Sean truly didn’t want him to be here at all.

  “Tomorrow we hit their landing field,” said Cornelius, getting back to business. The Fenri had established an atmospheric craft field in a valley fifteen kilometers from this cave. They had a number of ground support craft based there, and a battalion of their infantry. As a plus there were some Caca advisors there as well. The Ranger looked over at the remaining missile he had brought along with him. Its sister had been used a hundred kilometers from here, and over a thousand Fenri had joined their ancestors at that time.

  “You’re sure you want to do this?” asked Sgornar, who was the designated leader of this group, Cornelius being a mere advisor.

  “I’m better at this than any of you,” replied Cornelius, holding up a hand as the being made to speak. “I know. Many of you are more familiar with this forest. But none of you can move like me. I have the best chance of getting close, and then getting away.”

  The creature stared at him for a moment, then his eyes blinked rapidly, its version of a nod.

  “So I will sneak up on them. It will probably take all day, since I don’t want to get caught before I can launch.” He really didn’t want to get caught at all. He wanted to kill the enemies of his empire. He did not want to die for his empire. He would leave that to those enemies. But he had to take a risk to do more than kill a couple at a time.

  The next morning they were ready to move. All were outfitted in what clothing they had. That was a deficit they were having trouble compensating for, especially with the cold nights. What they did have were plenty of weapons, though mostly of the kind special ops used, not much power, but also not easily tracked. Cornelius was wearing a ghillie suit he had constructed himself, over a thermal garment that kept most of his body heat in. That could be a problem later in the day, but he didn’t want infrared scanners picking him up.

  At five kilometers from the base he bid farewell to the rest of the group. They would wait here, forming an ambush to hit any Fenri that might come out of the base on patrols. And they would be the final redoubt if he had to retreat. Of course, if he didn’t take out the base and they were able to launch the ground support craft, it could become final in quite another way.

  Walborski made his way through the forest, covering three kilometers in as many hours, taking his time to move silently. It was still an unfamiliar environment, though the former slaves turned guerillas had taught him much in the last couple of weeks. He knew the poisonous plants to avoid, at least in this region. And he also knew to avoid anything that he couldn’t identify.

  At one point he had to lay low for over an hour as a Fenri patrol moved through, then took a break less than fifty meters from where he was laying. He thought he could kill the six Fenri before they could get away, but they still might get word to the base through their coms. That was something he couldn’t afford.

  It was getting dark when he finally reached the point where he could see the base down in the valley. He checked the mechanical watch on his wrist. He had some time before the rest of the group initiated their part of the attack. He set up the launcher, extending the supports and making sure it was aimed where he wanted it.

  Within seconds of the moment, not bad when using mechanical timers, a dozen mortar rounds came in on the base. Every one was blasted out of the sky by the laser defenses. Another dozen came in with the same result, these followed by indirect fire weapons coming out from the base. It was like an ant nest down there as soldiers, some without armor, came out of their bunkers to repel the attack.

  Cornelius was set behind his launcher, hoping that his people had gotten away from their tubes before the enemy had fired. Here came the third launch, this from different tubes, this with different ammunition. The rounds exploded and filled the air with radar reflecting particles while they let out bursts of electronic static. That was the signal.

  The Ranger took one last look, then engaged the weapon, letting the warhead have a look at the target. He got down behind the cover he had picked beforehand, an earthen berm with large trees growing from it, their roots sure to help anchor the mass. With a squeeze of the remote trigger the missile was off, flying low and fast, barely missing some trees as it wove through the jungle before hitting the clearing and gaining altitude, three hundred meters over the base in an instant. A laser still tracked it, and given another microsecond it would have generated a hit. It wasn’t given that microsecond.

  Twenty megatons of fusion power detonated in the air, sending heat and blast in a globe around the point of detonation. Enough was vectored downward in a hurricane of fury. Hundreds of Fenri were out in the open, running for emplacements to fight off the expected attack that would follow the mortar barrage. A few were in powered armor suits, the heavy variety favored by the little predators’ infantry. They were tossed around by the blast while the armor protected them from heat and radiation. Those soldiers were the only survivors out in the open. The rest were burned to vapor and smoking husks, before the blast tore their remains apart.

  Most of the buildings of the base were prefabs, made of modern materials, sturdy enough, but nowhere near as tough as permanent structures and bunkers. They came apart in the blast, sending pieces flying in the hurricane winds. Many of those pieces were complete or partial bodies. The score or so ground attack and transport vehicles fared no better. Those with any kind of combustibles aboard went up in balls of fire that were immediately snuffed out by the winds. The others were simply picked up and bashed against the ground, over and over, until they were little more than battered hulks missing wings, cockpits crushed.

  Cornelius lay under cover while the roar of the blast sounded and the hot wind flew overhead. His earplugs protected his hearing, but the rumble permeated his body, going on and on as the fireball rose from the ground. Trees fell around him, animals shrieked and ran, or died. A large tree fell onto the berm, the earthen mass protecting the Ranger from being crushed. It seemed to go on forever, but it was only minutes before it was over.

  The Ranger looked over the trunk of the tree to see what was left of the base. Much of it was now a crater, while everything around the crater was smoking ruin. There might be some enemy alive in bunkers deep under the ground, but they were not his problem. Eventually they might get back to the surface, but the toys they had used to hit the guerillas from above were gone. Taking one last look, he turned and loped through the forest of fallen trees, avoiding the many fires the warhead had set. He would meet up with his people and plan their next op. That one would not include nukes, since they had fired their last one at this base.

  * * *

  “The Fenri are pushing from the west again, sir,” came the call over the com.

  Baggett nodded, then remembered that he wasn’t on a video com. “Are the troops ready?”

  “We are, sir. First brigade is in place and ready to light them up.”

  Normally that would mean a couple of thousand suited troops were in position. Now it meant just a little over a thousand. All of his units had taken heavy losses. That they had inflicted heavier losses on their enemies, despite those forces holding the orbitals, didn’t seem to mean much at the moment. He could be reinforced through the wormhole they had brought with them. The same could be said of one of his other corps, though not the others. The question now was whether command deemed it prudent to keep feeding troops into the meatgrinders, or to pull them out. He hated the idea of leaving after losing so many people, but his vote was to leave while he still had some to pull out. Unfortunately, the military was not a democracy.

  Baggett looked around his command bunker at the men and women who were
manning the com consoles. All were in the skinsuits heavy troopers normally wore under their armor, tight fitting garments that gave some protection against heat and blast, and very little against a direct strike. The armor suits, the latest model, were lined up against on wall. If they needed them here they were in real trouble. The headquarters staff could still fight, and their armor was as good as any in the corps, but the bunker was protection enough in most circumstances. If the enemy knew where they were, kinetics could take them out in a moment. That thought sparked another.

  “How’s the jamming holding up?”

  “Seems to be tight, sir. We just sprayed another five tons of the microdrones into the air over the cities.”

  Baggett nodded. This operation involved the best electronic warfare and heat masking tech that had ever been deployed. Not just the large jamming units that made the surface of the planet a nightmare landscape of false images and heat sources. This time they were employing trillions of microdrones, each less than a tenth a gram, blanketing the air and obscuring almost all sensor probes from orbit. The ships up there could still fire, but they couldn’t be sure what they were aiming at.

  “We’re getting the take from one of the company commanders, sir.”

  “Put it up.”

  The holo over the plotting table came to life, showing the view from a captain. Or maybe a lieutenant, since many companies were now being led by lower ranking officers. In fact, many companies were now about the size of platoons. The view was clear, coming from the cameras on the suit, then over the fiber network they had established for com. Depending on wireless was asking to be hit.

  And here came the Fenri. Their heavy suits made them look the size of humans, while the Imperial armor made their wearers look like ogres. Despite their size they still carried thick armor, and heavy weapons. He thought his troopers were a two to one match for them. But sometimes the fight was three to one or more. The little aliens moved forward slowly, most hugging the ground, moving from cover to cover, though some were floating in the air to provide observation for the rest. Part of a building collapsed, and one of the mecha used by the Cacas in place of real tanks walked through the rubble, followed by several more.

  “So, we have Cacas in the house,” said the smiling operations’ officer.

  Baggett smiled as well. They were happy to kill Fenri, but the big bastards were the real prize. More of the mecha appeared, until there were a small company of things walking along with the Fenri. The enemy was out in the open, revealed. His own troops were under cover and concealment, the stealth features of their suits making it all but impossible to detect. The Fenri had stealth built into their suits as well, blurring them to vision. But they were moving, and once an Imperial targeting system locked on to them, they stayed locked.

  “Fire,” came the command over the com, and fire they did. Hundreds of troopers opened up with particle beams while quick firing mortars launched to their rear. A hypervelocity cannon on a heavy tank cracked as its round went out at hundreds of times the speed of sound. A Caca mecha came apart in flying pieces as the round struck. Several more followed a second later as more tanks and shoulder fired hyper-v missiles took them on. Hundreds of glowing particle beams flew through the dust and smoke, and scores of Fenri fell with holes through their armor.

  Armor was tough, and a split second strike by a suit carried particle beam would not penetrate, though it would damage the armor and devices mounted on it. A hit of two seconds or more was enough to burn through and vaporize the flesh beneath. Heavy particle beams, crew served weapons, would do the job in much less than a second. And several heavy pulse lasers sent their deadly beams out to tear through armor and alien with a single strike, while they put out a score of pulsing beams a second.

  It was a slaughter for the first ten seconds or so. Hundreds of Fenri went down, killed or injured, or stuck in suits that no longer functioned. Mortar rounds came down, not doing much when they didn’t get a direct hit. Their seeker heads were set to attempt such a hit, but enemy countermeasures spun up quickly and defeated most of the attempts. They still did a job, throwing up debris and in some cases armored troopers, promoting fear and panic among the soldiers they exploded near. The mortars stopped firing seconds into the fight, each letting loose twenty or more rounds. After which the suit they were attached to moved quickly away, just before enemy artillery tracked their trajectories and struck back.

  The Fenri were good soldiers, and ignoring their losses they sought cover and starting firing back. Even though his men had good cover, they still started falling off the plot, and incoming artillery added to the carnage. But the humans and their alien compatriots stood their ground, and a couple minutes into the fight the Fenri were the ones who gave way. It looked like a complete victory, until the ground attack craft came screaming in, filling the area with their own hyper-v missiles and beam fire. The Imperials went for deeper cover in their bunkers. Most made it, some didn’t.

  As soon as the ground attack craft had swept by over a score of troopers popped up from cover, launching hyper-v missiles at the fighters. Half the suits were the specialist heavy weapons variety, with pop up launchers that sent a half dozen missiles each after the craft. The rest were standard suits whose wearers deployed handheld quadruple launchers. Within a second all of the missiles were off. Three of the infantry were hit by the powerful rearward lasers carried by the craft, blasting through armor and killing the wearers. Most of the missiles were taken out by the same lasers, set to pulse as fast as possible, striking one missile, then another with the next pulse. Most of the missiles were destroyed, six were not, and three of the attack craft were hit, two coming apart in the air while the third arced down toward the ground to strike the rubble.

  Baggett hated losing people, but he would take an exchange of three infantry for three attack craft any day. As a bonus, those craft were of Caca design, which meant the big aliens would be the pilots, as they were not compatible with Fenri physiology. The thought of killing the big aliens was enough to bring a smile to his face.

  “The enemy is pulling back, sir,” called out one of his tactical staff. “Should I stand down the boys and girls?”

  “Wait one, Colonel. Let’s make sure they aren’t trying to pull something.” The enemy had not always tried to fool the humans. Many times they bulled ahead with requisite stubbornness to be slaughtered by the defenders. But they had on occasion pulled some tricks, and his corps had paid the price for being caught off guard. It wouldn’t hurt his people to stay at one hundred percent alert status until they were sure the enemy had pulled out of range.

  * * *

  “That is the sixth one, my Lord,” said the tactical officer, pointing a lower right index finger at the holographic plot of the city below. Six small areas glowed where they had plotted the location of the enemy jammers that were making it almost impossible for the ships in orbit to provide accurate fire support. As long as their sensors were jammed, with so many false electronic and heat signatures, anything they dropped would have a greater chance of hitting their own forces. Whenever they located one of the jammers they took it out, but the others continued working, while the humans brought up another unit to take the place of the one just destroyed.

  “Is that all of them?”

  “We think so, my Lord. Shall I set up a fire plan to take them out?”

  “First contact the ground commander. I want him ready to move as soon as we shoot.”

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  The Caca pod commander smiled as he thought of what they were about to do. He was sure the humans would have more jammers in place in minutes after these were taken out. But the Fenri ground forces, with the cover of his cruisers, could do a lot of damage in those minutes.

  * * *

  “I want your battalion to prepare for a charge on their rear areas as soon as they launch their next attack, Colonel.”

  The huge being hovering over him nodded. Baggett always felt uncomfortable around Phlistar
ans. Not that they were any threat to him, loyal members of the empire that they were. But their mere size made them so intimidating. Add to that the maw filled with sharp teeth, and they could be terrifying to their enemies. Because the battalion commander was still in his battle armor, a mass of alloy four times more massive than a standard human suit, it was easy to feel uneasy around them. He would have asked the lt. colonel to take his armor off for the meeting, but the specialized suits his people wore were more difficult to don and doff than those of any other Imperial species.

  “If it works, you should be able to run roughshod over their artillery and logistics bases before they can react.”

  “We’ll give them hell, General.”

  “Make sure you hit them hard, then get your people out of there. You’re about my only heavy assault force, and I don’t want to lose any more of you than can be helped.”

  The corps still had just under forty tanks, and they wouldn’t be getting any more, since the wormhole was not large enough to pass the five hundred to one thousand ton vehicles. And tanks, while tough, were also big, easy to hit targets. The Phlistarans were the next best thing to heavy assault vehicles. Their suits massed over four tons, with a ton of sentient inside, and carried twice the armor protection of a standard heavy suit. And three times the weaponry. But they also made bigger targets, and as fast as they could move, they couldn’t outrun a beam weapon.

  “Get back to your unit and get your people ready.”

  The big alien saluted, raised his helmet over his head, and turned to trot off, moving like a large, ungainly horse. Baggett watched him go for a moment, wishing that he could have just contacted the colonel for a holo conference, but the hard line to his area had been cut, and the enemy was jamming all com frequencies. Add to that the idea that sending a wireless signal, even in a burst, was asking to be hit from above, and he had no choice but to order the officer here where he could talk to him in person, and both could look at the holo chart of the battlefield.

 

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