She pushed the thought aside as she heard the hatch opening behind her and turned, just in time to see the reporter step into the compartment. Max Kratzok had requested permission to watch from the bridge, after all; Hoshiko nodded to him, then pointed to one of the chairs at the rear of the compartment. She half-expected a fuss - reporters had a tendency to be prima donnas at the best of times - but Kratzok sat down at once. Hoshiko turned back to her display and watched as the seconds slowly ticked down to zero. If everything went according to plan, the Druavroks would expect them to appear much closer to the planet than the emergence point she’d dictated, yet ...
They’re not gods, she reminded herself. They knew so little about their enemy, but she was sure of that. The laws of mathematical averages work as well for us as for them.
“Twenty seconds, captain,” the helmsman said. He sounded nervous, although Hoshiko knew he’d been a junior officer during the Battle of Earth. “Realspace drives cycling now.”
“Take us out as planned,” Hoshiko ordered.
She gritted her teeth as the final few seconds counted down. It was a shame that no one had managed to come up with a genuine long-range FTL communicator - it was hard enough sending messages from one ship to another when they were both in FTL, flying in a loose formation - but at least the enemy wouldn't be able to summon help. They’d have to send a courier boat to their nearest base ... unless, of course, they already had enough firepower orbiting Amstar to beat off her squadron. They’d have had to bring it in from another system, though, if Captain Ryman was to be believed. Amstar hadn't had more fixed defences than it needed to fend off pirates.
“Emergence,” the helmsman snapped. The ship shook, once, as she plunged out of FTL and lanced towards the planet. “FTL drives recycling now.”
Hoshiko leaned forward as the display started to sparkle with red and yellow icons. “Tactical report?”
“Seventeen warships in orbit, nothing larger than a heavy cruiser,” Biscoe reported. “The manned fortifications are still present, Captain, but they’ve been augmented with a number of automated weapons platforms. Assuming standard GalTech, we will enter engagement range within five minutes.”
“Stand by all weapons,” Hoshiko said. “And send the pre-recorded message.”
She sucked in her breath as more icons flashed into existence, little symbols next to them listing known or deduced attributes. At least the Druavroks didn't seem to have any battlecruisers or heavy cruisers ... unless they’d cloaked the ships. She doubted anyone would bother, but the Druavroks might have a different view of the matter. Some alien tactics seemed absurd from humanity’s perspective. The Tokomak might have crushed the Solar Union if they’d struck at once, rather than waiting for fifty years as humanity made its way into space and started improving on Galactic technology. But then, given how tiny Earth was on a galactic scale, they’d probably found it hard to imagine that any significant threat could come from a backwater of a backwater.
“Message sent,” Yeller said. There was a long pause. “No response.”
“Their starships are altering position,” Biscoe reported. “They’re forming an attack formation and angling towards us.”
Wilde laughed, harshly. “I think that’s the answer, Captain.”
“Stand by all weapons,” Hoshiko ordered. If Captain Ryman was right, the Druavroks wouldn't hesitate to open fire ... which would make it easier to argue, afterwards, that they’d fired first. But if they didn’t she’d have no choice but to fire the first shot. “Bring up active sensors and lock weapons onto their hulls.”
“Firing range in two minutes, Captain,” Biscoe reported. “Enemy formation is sweeping us with active sensors.”
“Deploy decoys,” Hoshiko ordered. At point-blank range, at least as it applied to starship combat, it was unlikely the decoys would soak up many missiles before the Druavrok sensors burned through the jamming, but it was worth trying. “Can you identify their flagship?”
“It will probably be the heavy cruiser,” Wilde commented. “Their commanders won’t see any virtue in using a smaller ship.”
“Firing range in one minute, Captain,” Biscoe reported. “Enemy fleet is advancing directly towards us.”
“Order all ships to take evasive action if necessary,” Hoshiko ordered. The Druavroks might just be hoping for a chance to ram an ancient warship into one of her shiny new cruisers, even though the impact would destroy both ships. They’d come out ahead if even one suicide attacker succeeded. It wasn't as if she could summon more ships from Sol at the touch of a button. “Concentrate fire on the heavier ships ...”
“Enemy vessels are opening fire,” Biscoe snapped. “Missiles look to be standard GalTech, Captain, but there’s a lot of them.”
“Stand by point defence,” Wilde ordered.
“Fire at will,” Hoshiko said, calmly.
Jackie Fisher shuddered as she unleashed a full spread of missiles towards her targets, then opened fire with her phaser banks. The other ships in the squadron opened fire a second later, their missile warheads automatically forming a tactical net that directed them towards their targets for maximum effect. If the Druavroks were surprised at the speed of humanity’s missiles, easily a third faster than standard GalTech, she saw no sign of it. Their point defence started spitting out fire as soon as the missiles came into range.
“Continue firing,” she ordered. The Druavroks knew how to fight their ships better than the Hordesmen, she noted; they actually understood how to use their point defence. It didn't look as though they’d invented anything new, but merely understanding their own capabilities made them more dangerous foes than the Horde. “Concentrate fire on the heavy cruiser.”
“Aye, Captain,” Biscoe said. The starship rocked violently as the enemy slammed a hail of phaser bolts into her shields. “They’re getting the range on us too.”
“Switch missiles to sprint mode and keep firing,” Hoshiko ordered, feeling the blood pounding through her veins. The enemy ships were turning slightly to bring more of their phaser banks to bear, although they were still advancing towards her ships. One of their destroyers had dropped out of formation and two more had been destroyed outright, yet they kept fighting. “Ensure they don’t come within ramming range of us.”
“Aye, Captain,” the helmsman said.
Jackie Fisher twisted as one of the enemy destroyers made a run at her, the helmsman neatly evading the suicidal charge as the tactical officer blew the destroyer apart with a pair of missiles and a spray of phaser fire. Hoshiko watched through her implants as the enemy heavy cruiser altered course again, only to find itself being hammered by three human starships in unison. Its shields failed a moment later and a single antimatter missile, slammed into her drive section, blew her into a ball of fire.
“Harrington has taken damage,” Wilde reported, quietly. “She’s still firing though - and regenerating her shields.”
“Tell Captain Faison to keep his distance from the enemy,” Hoshiko ordered. The Druavroks were still fighting, damn them, even though there was no hope of victory. “Prepare a spread of missiles ...”
She broke off as another enemy ship vanished into a glowing fireball. “Cover Harrington if necessary,” she ordered. “The Druavroks may regard a crippled ship as a sensible target.”
“Aye, Captain,” Wilde said.
“The automated weapons platforms are coming online,” Biscoe reported, sharply. “Captain, they’re swinging around to target the planet!”
“Take them out,” Hoshiko ordered, sharply. What was driving the Druavroks? Turning starship-grade weapons on Amstar would wipe out their own settlements as well as every other race on the planet. “Can you raise the manned platforms?”
“No, Captain,” Yeller reported. “They’re still spitting missiles at us.”
Hoshiko nodded as something slammed into Fisher’s shields. “Target them too,” she ordered, as the last enemy ship made a suicide run. It didn't get into ramming range before
her phasers burned through its shields and ripped it apart. “Try to avoid targeting anything else unless it’s shooting at us.”
“Aye, Captain,” Yeller said. “What about command and control satellites?”
“If they’re helping the Druavroks, take them out,” Hoshiko snapped. “If you think they’re helping the Druavroks, take them out ...”
She broke off and watched as a spread of missiles obliterated a handful of platforms, one by one. The platforms were vulnerable - a single burst of phaser fire would be enough to take them out - but there were too many of them to take them all out quickly. She swore under her breath as a couple of platforms started firing towards the ground, then relaxed slightly as the platforms were blown apart.
“Good thing they don’t have true AI,” Wilde commented. “They could have targeted us as well as the planet at the same time.”
“They must have bought the cheap versions,” Hoshiko agreed. “Or drew them straight from the Tokomak.”
It made sense, she thought, although she’d have to check the records to be sure. The Tokomak hadn't been too keen on the idea of allowing anyone to fire on a planet’s surface and had modified their technology to make it tricky for the platforms to engage both starships and the planet’s surface. It did make a certain kind of sense, she knew; a single missile with an antimatter warhead, or even with a standard nuke, would do one hell of a lot of damage to the planet’s surface. And the platforms were designed to defend the planet, rather than keep the population a prisoner.
“No active PDCs,” Biscoe reported. “I’m picking up a number of military formations on the ground, but nothing that seems capable of posing a threat to anything in orbit.”
Hoshiko nodded and interfaced her mind with the computer datanet once again. The final manned platform was spitting missiles in all directions, but it was old and outdated, ill-prepared for a full-scale attack. She had to admit the Druavroks were stubborn; they knew they were going to lose and yet they were still fighting. Maybe they thought there was no point in trying to surrender. Wilde had been right. The other races on Amstar wouldn't hesitate to take a brutal revenge for attempted genocide.
The ship shuddered one final time as the orbital battle came to an end. Hoshiko checked the live feed from the other eight ships - three had taken minor damage, including Harrington - and then turned her attention to the planet itself. It was definitely an odd world; it looked, very much, as though the Tokomak had been more interested in producing full-sized megacities, each one several times the size of the largest city on Earth, rather than settling the planet as a whole. But there were still a large number of military formations on the surface ... and hundreds of scorch marks where alien settlements had once been.
“Target their formations from orbit and take them out,” she ordered. They weren't too close to non-Druavrok settlements, as far as she could tell. Besides, she had the feeling that giving the aliens a chance to find human shields would be disastrous. Collateral damage was normally unavoidable, particularly when KEWs were dropped on targets from high overhead, but it should be kept as low as possible. “And then try and make contact with the humans on the ground.”
She cursed under her breath as Yeller went to work. Captain Ryman had supplied them with a whole list of contacts, humans and non-humans who were involved in fighting the Druavroks, but there was no way to know how valid his list was any longer. It had been two weeks since he’d fled Amstar and the Druavroks were incredibly aggressive. They might well have obliterated the resistance already. She worked her way through the analysis from the tactical staff as the ship settled into orbit and allowed herself a sigh of relief. There were definite signs that the battle was still underway.
“Picking up a response, Captain,” Yeller said. “They’re demanding Captain Ryman’s codes.”
“Pass them on,” Hoshiko said. “And then order the marines to be ready to drop.”
She wanted to go down to the planet herself, but she knew that was impossible. The marines would have to take the lead, accompanied by Captain Ryman - and Max Kratzok, if the reporter still wanted to go. Judging by the reports, the fighting was growing ever more intense, even as her KEWs wiped the visible formations out of existence. The Druavroks simply didn't know how to quit.
And they probably have more weapons than anyone else, she thought, numbly. Pacifying the planet will take years.
“They’ve sent us landing coordinates,” Yeller reported. “Captain?”
“Forward them to the marines,” Hoshiko ordered. She’d discussed possible steps with her officers during the voyage. Now, they'd find out just how good their planning had actually been. “Mr. Kratzok? Get to the marine boat bay if you wish to join them.”
“I do, Captain,” Kratzok said. He rose and hurried to the hatch. “Thank you.”
Hoshiko smiled. She rather doubted Kratzok knew what was awaiting him. He might have fooled around in simulations, or downloaded a full sensory recording from a marine making the jump into combat, but there was no substitute for the real thing.
“Good luck,” she said.
She turned her attention back to the main display. “Do we have any other enemy positions in the system?”
“None as yet,” Biscoe reported. “They don’t seem to have shown much interest in the industrial nodes.”
“Odd,” Hoshiko said. Had the Druavroks been so interested in exterminating everyone else that they’d ignored the industrial platforms? “We’ll deal with them as soon as we can spare the marines.”
“Aye, Captain,” Biscoe said. “We’re also picking up signals from lunar settlements. They’re asking if we’re planning to stay.”
“Tell them yes,” Hoshiko said. The last thing she needed was people, humans or aliens, panicking while her marines dropped into hell. “And ask them for a sit-rep, if possible. I need to know what’s going on.”
Chapter Eight
Chinese forces reoccupied Tibet after a bloody uprising. The Chinese Government claims that the Tibetans came to greet their Chinese brothers after the extremists were defeated, but reports on the ground and orbital observations claim that the Chinese destroyed Lhasa and exterminated much of the population.
-Solar News Network, Year 54
Max hadn't been quite sure what to expect when he'd run into the boat bay, but he definitely hadn't expected a grim-faced man shoving him into a large armoured suit. He had no time to object before the suit sealed itself, his implants reporting that the control processors were attempting to connect to his neural link. The moment he authorised the link, the suit seemed to fade away to a haze surrounding him, as if he was no longer wearing it. But the icons flashing up in front of his eyes told a different story.
“I understand you’ve used combat suits before, Max,” a female voice said. A stream of information from his implants identified the speaker as Lieutenant Hilde Bergstrom. She was standing far too close to him, wrapped in another armoured suit. “Have you stayed in practice?”
“I haven’t used one since my days in the Orbital Guard,” Max said. He’d never taken enthusiastically to military service, although it was a requirement for any form of advancement on his asteroid. “This suit’s a little more advanced than the suits we wore during the war.”
“Understood,” Hilde said. “I’m slaving your suit to mine, for the moment. I don’t want you trying to control your combat jump. If something happens to me” - if I get blown into atoms, Max translated silently - “you’ll be passed to another marine. You won’t have full control over the suit until we land on the ground.”
“I understand,” Max said. “And once we’re down?”
“Follow my lead,” Hilde said. “We’re not going to try slotting you into our order of battle, but we may need you to plug any holes. If so, your suit will be slaved to us once again and you’ll be a helpless bystander until the battle comes to an end.”
Max swallowed. In hindsight, he suspected he should have thought more carefully before agreeing
to embed with the marines, even though he’d get some great footage of the Battle of Amstar, up close and personal. The idea of being trapped inside the suit as it charged enemy fire on its own was terrifying ... but there was no point in trying to change his mind now, not when he’d already committed himself. He hastily set his implants to calming mode as Hilde turned to lead him towards the hatch, then followed her down the corridor. Twenty-two armoured forms were waiting for them. If his suit hadn't automatically supplied names and faces, he wouldn't have been able to tell them apart.
“Slave mode ... active,” Hilde said. “Sorry.”
The suit walked forward. Max tried to send a query into its control processors, but there was no response. He was a helpless passenger now. Gritting his teeth, he braced himself as the hatch opened, revealing the inky darkness of space. Panic flared at the back of his mind as a force field picked up the suit and shoved it hard towards the planet below. More icons flashed up in front of him, warning of incoming fire from the ground, as the suit plunged into formation with the remainder of the marines. Max squeezed his eyes shut as the planet grew larger and larger in front of him, convinced - at a very basic level - that he was going to slam into the ground. He knew it was safe - there were thousands of people who jumped from orbit every year - but his mind refused to believe it. How many of the orbital jumpers jumped straight into the teeth of enemy fire?
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