Righteous Reign The Series: E-version Boxed Set Edition

by Thomas J. MacDonald

  "Tactical, please have all strategic units report on the accuracy of their attacks and the resulting level of destruction. Copy Admiral Boets, please."

  "Aye, sir."

  "Sensors, tie into all other ships and the sensor net. I want every picture you can get of the surface and all the orbital tracks. Copy Admiral Boets, please."

  "Aye, sir."

  Half an hour later both their system annunciators sound several times. The two Admirals stand in the middle of the bridge examining the reports on our pads.

  They order the final step, which is withdrawal, reformation, and launching to Rigil.

  "It'll take us each a couple of days to write our reports to our bosses. But, for now, let's go down to the pub and get some lunch and a beer." Boets suggests.

  "Good idea.' Basi says. Then he turns back and snaps one more order. "Captain, the Chicago is yours, again."

  "Thank you, sir." A voice calls back as the two Admirals leave the bridge - probably for good. There won't be any need for them up here, anymore.

  The two men were in the bar for about an hour and a half when Basi's received a message notification. He activated his datapad, opened the mail and began swiping at the screen.

  "Take a look at these." He said to Boets as he angled the pad for the subordinate to see.

  He very slowly and methodically moved from one image to another. Both men were analyzing the pictures for destruction and lack of damage to facilities and buildings surrounding the targets.

  "Very impressive!" Boets observed.

  "Yes, it is. There's no need for more. We've exceeded our objectives." Basi responded as he tapped on the screen to send the orders to all Commands to move to the next phase of their tactical plans.

  They returned to their chat and drinks. An hour after Basi transmitted his instructions, they heard the ship-wide annunciators and felt the inertia of the Frigate breaking out of orbit. These were thruster and long-ramp IPE moves, so the force was minimal.

  As they were signing their checks and rising to leave, there were additional announcements and the reaction to an increase in acceleration rate. They were headed for a jump threshold.

  Both men returned to their quarters as they felt the G-forces of the AMPE engines kicking in. Then, there was the shudder and vibrations of them crossing a vortex event horizon.

  They were on the way home.

  ...................................................................................

  Because of the new communications' system, both George Bryant and I saw the results of the Eta Pegasus bombardment on December 9 in near real time. We got on the horn to discuss it and agreed to wait until Kil Kos had time to receive any message from his home world and react to it. The Isesinis employ a laser transceiver system similar to ours but without the sub-strata relays that make it instantaneous. So, they experience the lags we once suffered. It will be another five and a half days before any distress calls arrived from the planet. But, waiting could mean attacking a much small force.

  Chapter 24 82 Eridani

  Wednesday, December 15, 2271

  "...put your feet in the right place. Then stand firm." Abraham Lincoln

  Today, started out very interesting. The Suvayeek, SOCC, and our own sensor nets are reporting intriguing enemy movements. Their accounts from throughout occupied Federation space are reflecting substantial redeployments towards Eta Pegasus.

  ISIE ground agents in those systems are reporting the recall of around half the ground forces. At most of those worlds, half of all the Cruisers and Carriers have departed. Federation wide, seven of the big GPHC units have gone. Overall, the operation at Eta Pegasus has served to drain Isesinis strength in occupied Federation space.

  In further discussions, George and I agree to execute Zeta's battle plan, tomorrow. Step One of my scheme is the detonation of half the mines including those in the two Orbs that are still here. But, since those explosives are now controlled via our sub-strata relay communications, we will also trigger the bombs planted in units that are returning to Eta Pegasus. More than half of the ships leaving my target won't make it home and therefore will not be available to assist here. The Zeta first phase will commence at four hundred hours.

  .............................................................................................

  I am watching both the primary Flag Bridge screen and the broad port-side window as I begin to record today's events.

  "It's now seven hundred hours thirty minutes on Thursday, December 16, 2271, and we've been involved in an intense scuffle for over three hours. The site is full of smoke, dusty gas clouds, flying shrapnel, tumbling bodies and severed limbs. I haven't had time to do a precise count but, Zeta Command has lost somewhere around half a dozen Carriers, ten Cruisers, fifteen Frigates, four Supply Ships and about two hundred Raptors, to this point. But Dac Kil Res has lost his subordinate GPHC, and his station is severely battered and mostly disabled. We are trying to capture him. Mining reduced his force of nearly nine-hundred Cruisers and Carriers to half that before we even entered the battlefield.

  The Isesinis were distributed in three disc-shaped formations. A central one was protected by one below and another above it. Before the assault, twenty cloaked SOCC subs and a dozen covert Frigates ringed the outer perimeter of the central disc. They have done their jobs quite well, keeping that layer's ships extremely busy while a portion of our Fleet concentrated on the Dac Kil's big base ship.

  A second assemblage of Zeta ships lunged at the top Isesinis group from above, and a third pursued the lower one from below it. All moving flotillas approached from the same side of the Isesinis. Our three subdivisions reentered regular space at thirty-percent with a combined eleven hundred twenty fighters already deployed and another thirty-five hundred becoming space-borne within a minute of crossing our exit thresholds. And by that time, space was filled with anti-matter missiles, torpedoes, and spears all speeding toward the remaining enemy. All ships ran manually-helmed, evasive trajectories to avoid all the debris encountered in their pathways.

  Our initial contact found the enemy seriously confused by the all the sudden destruction around them. So, we were able to assail them virtually untouched for the first few minutes, destroying another one hundred vessels and completing the disabling of the Headquarters Orb, during that period. But, our opponents' recovery was relatively quick, and they resorted to relatively standard defensive tactics until our first resupply round began at six hundred thirty hours. They began to concentrate on the Supply Ships and their protective cover, at that time.

  In response to that tactic, I was forced to bring my Headquarters ship into the fray to take on the task of shielding the resupply. Each of those provides the broadest possible screen and is endowed with the greatest number of weapons of all ships in our group. So, for the last hour, the Examiner has remained synchronized with a supply vessel as it gingerly moves from one depleted craft to another. Likewise, the other seven SuperCarriers have taken on the same responsibilities.

  So far, all our Headquarters have sustained some minor damage but are each capable of continuing their task. We have also been directly responsible for the demolition of an estimated forty enemy platforms. And, each Super Carrier is operating its protective screens at one hundred ten percent of maximum in an attempt to diminish further injury.

  As I speak, large bodies of Isesinis craft have begun struggling to flee. But, for the time being, we are destroying their apertures to force them to continue the fight. There is also a steady stream of enemy shuttles from the planet below. I believe the Isesinis are removing ground troops."

  I encrypted and packaged up the audio report transmitting it to all C&C. I knew it was punctuated by the sounds of weapons fire and concussions, in the background. George will undoubtedly recognize I'm not exaggerating and may start his initiative with the new enemy strategy in mind. But, I will contact him directly, in a short time.

  Out the window, I see nearly fifty fighters defen
ding the Examiner's perimeter. They are zig-zagging around objects and vessels to gain the best advantage. And our automated defensive weapons systems are intercepting hundreds of incoming shots every minute. The same is true as I locate the other Base Ships in the distance. The Examiner's scenario is repeated over and over again by the entire Headquarters group of SuperCarriers. Our outbound salvos are still intense and continuous while our unreplenished opponents are already beginning to measure their responses. Every minute, I can see the tide turning more in our favor. I keep reflexively trying to protect my eyes from the flashes of particle weapons, anti-matter detonations, and warship fusion eruptions. My watery eyes are hot and scratchy from the continuous flickering. I am sure they are bloodshot. It is much like looking into a lightning bolt or welding arc.

  Though we had expected it to take much longer, I give the order to move to the next stage at sixteen hundred thirty hours. Our antagonists are now down to a Fleet of less than a hundred. Isesinis platforms are allowed to leave if they wish.

  Two standard Frigates are attached to each Group Command. And, there are four Groups within a Fleet. So, eight Frigates make up a battalion of Marines. Fifty-two Marines make up the small Companies on each ship. They are each led by a Captain who is counseled by another Officer who is ISIE intelligence. The rest are split into two platoons led by Lieutenants. One Frigate in every Fleet carries a fifty-third Marine at the rank of Major and assigned as Field Battalion Commander in control of all eight Companies when they're combined for specific operations.

  There is no need to employ shuttlecrafts because of the size of the GPHC and its docking ports. Sixteen Omicron and Graeca Fleet Frigates move for the Orb. Omicron's Marine Major Sinat has been placed in the leadership role. The eight hundred thirty-three soldiers will prowl throughout the complex disabling and securing remaining troops while hunting for the Dac Kil. Both Battalion chiefs have been provided a plan and the drawings of the Headquarters. And they have briefed all their people on its layout.

  .................................................................................

  Major Sinat aboard the Baltimore takes control via the Marine communication's link.

  "I need to know which units I have here. Everyone report now." He instructs into the video screen. He's eyeing twenty faces with nomenclatures in bands at the bottom of each of their panes on the split screen.

  One by one they recount their identities to him.

  "I need the docking position of each of your Frigates, now." He directs.

  Each, gives the location of the GPHC docking port their particular Frigate is attached to. He adds that info to the information banner of each square under the appropriate face.

  "Have you all got your Orb Maps?" He queries and receives unanimous nods.

  Sinat spends the next fifteen minutes reviewing each Group's assigned objectives. Then, he has everyone synchronize watches. He signs off.

  Though each one is small, sixteen charges exploding at the same time cause a powerful compression wave throughout a significant portion of the Orb. Groups of fifty-two soldiers dressed in black assault armor and helmets carry a variety of weapons as they lurch from one blindspot to another. Each warrior wears a radio headset with microphone beneath the head protection. The Major can hear the continuous chatter of reporting Captains punctuating their troop's individual assessments, as the units advance. Doors are rammed or vaporized and their interior spaces cleared. Isesinis are secured in groups of two to ten at a time.

  "All platoons report!" Sinat's whispered words convey an insistent tone ten minutes in.

  Each Captain gives a brief account without interrupting his Company's momentum.

  This scenario is repeated many times over the following hour. Companies begin running into each other and forming up into combined Groups.

  Three hours after entry, two bands of over four hundred are now searching the deck holding the Upper Bridge. Besides that Control Center, it contains mostly elegant quarters and a Flag-level Mess Hall. Prisoners are secured individually and in pairs on this floor.

  At eighteen hundred hours-thirty minutes the entire eight hundred thirty-two Marine formation smashes in the Bridge doors but hold back in the corridor.

  "Omaha Platoon - intrusion protocol!" Sinat calls referring to their platoon handle which is a derivative of their ship's name. He quickly points in the direction of eight locations within the space.

  An eight-Marine "pitching team" moves into the doorway with a similar "ball boy" group behind them.

  The lead group turns, and each receives an object from the man opposite in the rear.

  They all press an activation button and simultaneously toss to various depths in the directions Sinat ordered. There is a series of sudden brilliant flashes and deafeningly loud bangs in the space.

  "Let's go!" Sinat orders."

  Crouched Marines enter twenty-five at a time with those behind covering. Sinat stops the advance when half the combined force is within the room.

  "Hold here unless things get hairy!" He says to his counterpart than crosses the threshold.

  "Check every crack and crevice. Look under and around every console. Check every closet and office!" The Major snaps.

  "Over here. I think its PE One." The young Sergeant calls out referencing the identity they've given Mes.

  The Major notices a graphite armored figure crouched below a desk with six Marine weapons trained on him.

  "Stand up!" Sinat barks with an accompanying hand gesture. The soldier rises.

  Sinat can now distinguish the graphite armor with white markings. He knows if this is Mes, he's almost as tall as Kos. So, his suit has a headpiece. It'll be one of the internally controlled robots, if not.

  "Remove your helmet!" The Marine Officer yelps with associated hand signals.

  Two latches are released on the neck. The Isesinis removes the headpiece.

  "It's Res. Get pictures. I want confirmation." An ISIE intelligence officer takes two pictures and fingers his datapad. He waits. There's an annunciator chime. He examines his email.

  "It's him. We have PE-1!' The Captain shouts to the Major.

  "Let's get him and all the others to the ships. I'll be aboard the Examiner reporting." Sinat explains to the other Major.

  ......................................................................................

  "Despite all the damage, there were still over six hundred alive over there, including Res. It'll take until around twenty-two hundred to get them all in the brigs of our ships." Major Sinat reports at seven thirty in the evening in my office with Svesion present.

  "And, you didn't lose a soldier?" I ask.

  "No, sir. We have a couple of minor wounds. But, no one's dead. Everything went by the book."

  "Good job, Major. Please have Res moved here, as soon as possible?" Svesion ordered.

  "Yes, sir. Sir, may I be present during his interrogation?" Svesion looked to me as the Major made his inquiry. I returned an almost imperceptible nod.

  "Yes, Major. You may attend the questioning. Just stay out of the way. You're dismissed!" Svesion snapped.

  .........................................................................

  When we enter the interrogation room, Svesion and I note that though he no longer wears his headgear, Res is an imposing person. My guess is he is attempting to use that stature to intimidate. He will not sit down. I have brought a file with me, I will want the Dac Kil to see - when the time is right.

  " Sit down, Dac Sul Res! You're not impressing any of us, and you're tiring yourself out!" I growled at the man.

  "That's Dac Kil. A Dac Sul is like your Commanders or Lieutenant Colonels. A Kil is a full General or Admiral. A Dac Kil is like your Lieutenant Generals or Vice Admirals." He spits out the words arrogantly in perfect English, as he glared defiantly into my eyes and remained rigidly upright.

  "Guards!" I hollered. Four large armored Marines quickly transitioned into the interrogation room.<
br />
  "Strip this armor off and give this man something to wear!" I said to the squad's Sergeant who nodded to the others. They immediately sprang into action. Res stood naked moments later as the NCO quickly exited, then returned with a bundle.

  "Put these on!" He growled as he slammed the bundle into Res' midsection.

  Res quickly dressed. But resumed his erect vertical posture.

  "Now, sit down!" I barked.

  Res hesitated.

  "I will have you forcibly chained to the chair if you don't comply."

  Res sat down.

  "What do you want from me, anyway. Kos is in charge. And all security protocols and strategy will change the minute they know I'm dead or captured. Nothing I can give you would help. It's all yesterday's news, by now."

  "I understand that. But, you've already given me a lot."

  The Dac Kil was momentarily startled.

  "I've given you nothing. And, you'll get even less, from now on." The man said softly after recovering his demeanor.

  "You and Kos are from the same tribe. You're big, strong, and confident. And, you're both obviously intelligent and good tacticians. Because of that, you're treated very specially by your Isesinis brethren - including your Emperor. And that's made you both arrogant and careless.

  By the way, your leader is probably dead. We laid waste to your world a week ago."

  I dropped the contents of the folder I held on the table letting the photos and sensor images spill out. Res peered down at them. His shoulders drooped, and he expelled a long slow breath.

  "So, it's over." He said, quietly.

  "Not yet. But, it will be in a few days. Without any support your forces are finished."

  "Am I a prisoner of war."

  "I haven't decided, yet. I am holding you as a material witness. I believe Kos is a war criminal. I am not so sure about you. Give me your boss, and we'll keep the charges reasonable."

  "How can I be sure of that?"

  "I am Fleet Admiral Kurt Brubacher. I am one of a Commission of nine Admirals and Generals that run our forces. My particular Command employs slightly more than two and a half million people. Its designation is Zeta Command. But, it's functional objectives, and responsibilities are as the Inspector General Branch. We enforce Federation laws and the Constitution. We audit the member planets for compliance. We examine all the other Operations within the OFSA for conformity. We have full powers of arrest and seizure. We supply security forces for critical installations and Federation dignitaries. And, we are the intelligence arm of the OFSA. So, when it's time to decide what to charge you with, it will be me who makes the decision." I left the statement hanging in the air in silence.