The Complete Void Wraith Saga

by Chris Fox

  “I am broadcasting orders to all captains. We’re creating fire teams. Each team will consist of two ships from the 2nd, and one from the 1st. Ships from the 2nd will use the new theta cannons to penetrate the dreadnought’s defenses. Then, all three ships will focus their fire on the main cannon. Focus on the capital ships, until those cannons are disabled. Show them we have claws.”

  Fizgig closed the channel, turning her attention back to the enemy fleet. She wasn’t bothering to cloak. Let their enemies see them, and tremble.

  “Stand ready, Nolan. We come.”

  44

  What Do They Feed That Thing?

  Hannan slipped instinctively to the rear, following Lena at a safe distance. She still didn’t like bringing a non-com, but it was a smart play. They had no idea what they’d find inside the planetstrider, and the Tigris was their best hope at disabling it.

  At least T’kon could fight, though she’d have preferred to keep Annie with them. Here, too, she understood the captain’s logic. T’kon had been inside; it made sense to bring him. But every time they’d broken up the squad, someone hadn’t made it back.

  Mills hadn’t made it back.

  T’kon trotted around a skeletal spire, peering at the mound ahead of them. They had to cover about forty meters of open ground, then they’d be up against the side of the mound. T’kon raised a fist, then lowered it quickly. The captain sprinted across the gap. Lena followed a moment later. T’kon darted after them, and Hannan brought up the rear.

  There was no sign of movement, or that they’d been detected. The locals were gone, either killed by Krekon or fled to find a safer city. They were alone, except for the keening wind.

  “We are approaching the southern entrance,” T’kon said, pausing against the wall, “one of only two ways inside the mound. There is a squad of four a little ways up the corridor.” They were paralleling the mound, creeping toward a gap about twenty meters ahead. The mound was bigger than any stadium Hannan had been to—bigger than a Primo carrier—but it wasn’t very well guarded.

  T’kon withdrew a black sphere from a belt pouch, then rolled it around the corner. He held up three fingers, then two, then one. He darted around the corner, and the captain followed.

  Hannan tapped Lena, nodding at the wall, then she followed the others. All four guards were already down. She didn’t know what the black sphere was, but it had either knocked out or killed the red-scaled Saurians.

  T’kon and the captain were already sprinting up the hallway, single-file.

  Hannan waved Lena past her, then followed the Tigris up the corridor. They went for speed rather than stealth, their gear bumping and jingling as they sprinted down the dim corridor. Hannan was already winded, despite her conditioning. She hated heavy-gravity worlds.

  T’kon slowed ahead, scanning both sides of the corridor; he waved them forward, holstering his slug thrower. She glanced at the area as they passed. It looked like a metal door had blocked the corridor, right up until someone had blown that door up. There were still chunks of blackened metal along the floor. Past the explosion was a pair of cubbies where defenders would wait. They’d have made an excellent ambush point, yet they were empty.

  “T’kon, is this your handiwork?” the captain asked.

  “Yes, from my last incursion.” T’kon confirmed with a nod.

  “Captain, why don’t they have more defense?” she called. “They didn’t even clean up the shrapnel, much less replace the door.”

  “I’m thinking the same thing,” Nolan replied. He came up short, panting through his suit. “T’kon, what gives?”

  “You do not understand the arrogance of the Imperium, or its inefficiencies,” the Ganog explained. “The idea that someone would attack the same planetstrider in the same manner so soon after the first attack wouldn’t even occur to them.” He tapped a series of commands on his wrist pad, raising his gauntlet to conduct some sort of scan. “I believe the rest of the corridor is empty. We must press on. Just because there are no defenders here doesn’t mean there aren’t more inside. Even if there are not, scaling Vkat will not be quick. Time is our enemy as much as the Imperium.”

  “Lead on,” Nolan said.

  T’kon started sprinting again, and the rest of the squad followed. Hannan didn’t like the lack of defense, and she hoped the Ganog was right. It all seemed a little too easy, and any time she’d ever had it easy there had been a price to pay later.

  They finally emerged into blackness. Hannan couldn’t see, but she could sense the immensity of the mound’s interior. This place was huge. She thumbed a button on her helmet, shifting to low light. The room gained definition. It was completely empty, except for the mountain-sized planetstrider at the center.

  Lena gave a half-cough, half-sneeze. “By the goddess, the stench burns my eyes.”

  “Good lord, what do they feed this thing?” Hannan said. “I’m surprised it’s not eroding our armor.” She crinkled her nose. Her suit’s oxygen scrubbers weren’t doing crap about the stench.

  The creature gave a low, subsonic growl. The sound came just below hearing, vibrating through her entire body. It even rattled her teeth.

  “Is that thing waking up?” she asked, resting a hand on her sidearm—not that it would help. This thing wouldn’t even notice if it stepped on them. “This is the largest goddamn dinosaur that’s ever lived.”

  “We make for the control unit on its back,” T’kon said. He started walking toward one of the feet. “I do not think it is waking. That is one of the sounds it makes while sleeping. If we were this close when it gave a war howl? It would liquify our bones.”

  “Lovely,” Hannan muttered. She fished the climbing cable out of her pack. “Let’s hope it stays asleep until we reach the top.”

  The captain withdrew the small drone that Aluki had provided. He clipped on his own spool of cable, then offered the end to Hannan. She clipped it to hers, extending the line. Lena withdrew hers, and T’kon did the same. When they were finished they had a thousand-meter cable.

  Hannan stared up at the monster they’d come to scale. They should have brought a longer cable. A lot longer.

  45

  Engage

  The planet loomed ahead, growing larger as Fizgig’s fleet approached. She wasn’t nervous. Tigris didn’t get nervous, not like humans did. But she was…focused on the outcome.

  The Ganog fleet was lazily drifting closer to the planet. It left their warp station undefended, but that station possessed dozens of massive cannons. Not quite the equal of the dreadnought cannons, but both lethal and numerous. It was possible, perhaps even likely, that she could overwhelm that station.

  Leaving it open invited that option, but if she took it, she knew that the fleet would return. It would hammer her on one flank, while the station hit the other. That left her no choice but to attack the fleet, but it wasn’t accidental that they’d positioned themselves in high orbit.

  If she attacked them, she’d present targets to the planetstriders she knew were lurking below. It was a simple strategy, but the most simple strategies were often the most effective. Commanders who attempted complex tactics usually broke when they faced those who perfectly executed something simpler.

  “Keep the enemy fleet between us and the planet,” Fizgig commanded. The techs on the bridge began relaying orders to the fleet. The move would keep the planetstriders from hitting them—for now at least. It exposed them to fire from the station, but it was distant enough that her ships could take evasive maneuvers.

  Still, it didn’t solve the real problem. She needed to punch a hole in the fleet if she were to have any hope of reaching Nolan. His signal had been just that: a summons. It hadn’t included details of his situation, so other than clearing an escape route, there was little she could do to help him.

  “Sir, the station is firing,” Juliard said. “All vessels are scattering. We appear to be at their extreme range. As long as we monitor their firing patterns, we should be safe.”


  “They’ll stop once we engage their forces, I imagine,” Fizgig mused. She fluffed a cushion, resting her back against it. “Keep all vessels close, for now. Don’t separate until we’re just outside firing range.”

  Juliard nodded, bending back to her console. Fizgig settled into her chair, with no choice but to wait. Commanding a battle was nothing like commanding a single vessel. It was a dance, one that required foresight and planning. She needed to know what her opponent would do, to anticipate their tricks before they happened.

  Unfortunately, she knew almost nothing about her opponent, but, fortunately, he knew nothing about her. Nolan had confirmed that this was the first encounter these Ganog had had with the Coalition, and it was highly unlikely they fully understood her battle record.

  It was possible, but she was gambling otherwise.

  “Admiral,” Juliard said, brushing her hair from her face, “Major Khar is requesting a channel.”

  “Open it.” Fizgig was a little surprised it had taken him this long to approach her. “What do you want, Khar?”

  “Mighty Fizgig, why have we not been deployed? All fighters have been barred from launching. I do not understand.” Khar’s confusion was total, and in that moment he looked so much like he had in life: young, fierce, and eager. His golden fur looked natural, his feline eyes exactly as they had when he’d served on the bridge of the Claw of Tigrana.

  Fizgig fixed him with her best stare, allowing her tail to swish lazily behind her. “There was a time in the not-very-distant past when you wouldn’t have questioned my orders.”

  “That time has passed. I am a kit no longer, Fizgig, nor am I merely a warrior. I am a leader. My warriors wish to know why we have not yet been loosed. Give me something to tell them.” Khar’s impassioned plea wasn’t begging; it was a request, warrior to warrior. If she refused, he would accept that.

  But honor dictated that she grant him something.

  “I wish to see how these Ganog will react.” Fizgig licked her chops, dislodging a bit of meat from lunch. She ate it. “Our fighters are superior, and this clan leader Takkar knows it. If he sends his fighters to engage, our capital ships will savage them before loosing you and your brothers. So he has not sent his fighters. He waits to see when we will do so, because if he launches after us he can harry you with his own forces.”

  “Ah, I see your strategy. Wait until we are close, then loose us on the capital ships. Thank you, Mighty Fizgig. Apologies for my impatience.” Khar snapped a furry paw to his chest, bowing respectfully. “I will inform my fighters, and we will stand ready.”

  The feed ended, and the screen returned to a view of the enemy fleet. They were close now, nearly in firing range. How would this enemy commander react?

  46

  Get Them

  Takkar was puzzled by the enemy commander’s behavior. She’d brought more ships this time, but they seemed no more advanced than those she’d brought before. A slight numeric advantage would make little difference in the outcome of their battle, so what was she hoping to accomplish?

  “Why has she not deployed her fighters?” Takkar wondered aloud. “And why not utilize their stealth devices?” Those were the only areas where the Coalition had any advantage. Their fighters could force him to take a defensive position, at least initially. It would take time for his fighters to overwhelm the enemy, and during that time they could inflict appreciable damage on his dreadnoughts.

  Takkar began to pace. There was a trick here, but what was it? What was she trying to accomplish? Why return to the system now? He whirled, facing the Saurian techsmith. “Get me Krekon, now. His report is overdue. Find out what’s happening on the surface!”

  The Saurian closed her eyes, and pulses flowed to her arcanotome.

  Takkar continued to pace. Was this enemy commander coming to rescue her people? She had to know such a move would fail, unless she had access to resources she’d yet to reveal. He needed information, and he needed it now. Her fleet was nearly upon him, just outside of firing range.

  “Clan Leader, Krekon has not checked in. His cruiser is still idling in the slums at the deployment site.” The Saurian bowed as she backed away rapidly. Her arcanotome gave her scales a hellish look.

  Takkar shuddered. “Connect me to the cruiser,” he growled. “Now.”

  The Saurian closed her eyes again, then looked up fearfully. “They are not responding, Clan Leader. It’s possible the storm is somehow involved.”

  “Possible, but not likely. Krekon hasn’t checked in, and the enemy chooses this exact instant to attack? There is treachery at work.” Takkar thought furiously. How best to respond? “Order all fighters to deploy. Focus on the smaller craft. Move the capital ships closer to engage the enemy. Let us take the fight to them.”

  The scent of fear wafted from the techsmith. “Sir, what about the planetstriders? If we leave this position they will not be able to intervene on our behalf.”

  “Do not question me again, Techsmith. I do not wish to train a replacement, but if you speak so, I will deal with the inconvenience.” He turned back to the upper hull, watching the swarm of fighters begin emerging from every dreadnought.

  It was true that moving to engage the enemy would deprive them of the planetstriders—for now, at least. Yet it was also an unpredictable move, one that might confuse the enemy commander while costing Takkar little. He could always fall back to the planet’s high orbit, if need be.

  “Mobilize the planetary garrison,” Takkar commanded, “and order it to begin sweeping the area around Krekon’s cruiser. Continue to monitor the vessel, and let me know as soon as you establish contact. Also, ready the planetstriders for war. Have them ravage the city at random. Nothing survives the day.”

  The move lacked subtlety, but it was possible they would get lucky and destroy their enemies in a random blast. The ka’tok were of little value, and his planetstriders had nothing to do until he called upon them to aid the fleet. At worst, it would put the humans on the defensive.

  “Make of that what you will, enemy commander,” Takkar said aloud. He gave a wicked, fanged smile. “Will you risk your fleet to try reaching them before my planetstriders destroy them?”

  47

  Dance

  “Admiral, the enemy is deploying fighters,” Juliard said.

  “Yes, I can see that,” Fizgig snapped. “From the look of it, they’ve launched everything they have.”

  The enemy fleet had broken orbit and was moving to intercept. Abandoning a superior tactical position made no sense, and deploying their fighter screen was premature. She didn’t understand what she was seeing, and wished she had some context for the enemy’s actions.

  Every foe she’d previously fought, she understood. Tigris, humans, and even the Void Wraith had reacted predictably in most situations. She knew who they were and how they fought. But this? She didn’t understand the enemy’s disposition, and the ignorance was not enjoyable.

  “Order Khar to have his booster mechs stand by,” Fizgig ordered. “Have the vessels from the 1st screen the vessels from the 2nd. We cannot afford to lose any of the theta cannons before we begin to fire.” She dug her claws into one of her satiny cushions. Venting that tiny portion of her fury helped.

  “Enemy fighters have reached us,” Juliard called out. “They’re aiming for the capital ships.”

  Fizgig frowned. Then she blinked in understanding. “Order the frigates and corvettes to take evasion action, immediately.”

  “The enemy fleet is firing, all vessels,” Juliard screamed. “The Kettle and the Zelb have been hit. The Zelb is requesting assistance. Their keel is breaking apart. No word from the Kettle.”

  “Blast it. Have the smaller ships fall back, and use our capital ships as cover.” It was unusual for an enemy to focus on smaller, more maneuverable ships. It was the opposite of what the Ganog had done the last time they’d clashed. This commander was canny. He was changing tactics, seemingly at random. “Have the fighters screen the capital ship
s and push closer to the enemy ranks.”

  “Should we deploy theta cannons, sir?” Juliard asked.

  “No,” Fizgig snapped. “It’s too soon. We have to get closer. We need to hit all of them at once. For now, we need to rely on the fighter screen.”

  Her chest swelled as Khar’s booster mechs hit the enemy line. Khar’s forces cut deep wedges in the more numerous enemy, dancing away to circle around for another pass. They took a few casualties, but inflicted many times that number on the enemy.

  “Enemy fleet is firing again, sir,” Juliard said, her tone tense.

  The enemy ships fired a barrage from the main cannons on the dreadnoughts. Their fire hit both Khar’s line and the enemy fighters. The casualties were hideous, on both sides.

  “Damn it. Have Khar’s line scatter,” she snarled.

  The enemy commander clearly knew he could win a battle of attrition, and his tactics reflected that. He was pushing her early and hard, seeing if she’d break.

  She’d sooner die.

  “Full power to engines. Ready the theta cannons. Let us show them they are not as invincible as they think they are.”

  48

  Knock, Knock

  Sissus stopped outside the cruiser, hesitating before climbing the ramp. The cruiser stood open, a testament to Ganog arrogance. It left the vessel open to assault, a possibility the Ganog would never consider. They were the elites, after all, and the Saurians merely their hounds, running prey to ground. They were used to being the predators.

  “Where is Krekon, ka’tok?” a Ganog boomed. He strode toward Sissus, his scarlet armor gleaming. He had a long, curved sword resting casually against his shoulder. Behind him sat two more Ganog, both drinking liberally from hollowed gek horns. Sissus recognized none of their names, though their faces were familiar.