Crimson Worlds Collection I

by Jay Allan

  “Erik, let’s make sure this talk is just between us.” The laser-link system allowed for direct point to point communication between Marines with line of sight to each other. Unlike the comlink, which used encryption to insure the security of broadcasts, the laser communication was impossible to breach without intercepting the tight beam. Between two armored Marines facing each other five meters apart it was absolutely secure.

  "Of course, sir. What do you..."

  Cain was interrupted by the shuttlewide announcement. "Liftoff in 10 seconds." He paused and waited for the launch. "...3, 2, 1." The ship rattled violently as the thrusters kicked in, and the heavy shuttlecraft left the ground. He could hear and feel the rumbling of the massive engines through his armor as they powered the ship rapidly into the Columbian sky.

  "What do you want to discuss, sir." Cain finished his statement once the ship was airborne and the initial commotion of launch had subsided.

  "I wanted to talk about this campaign." He paused. Erik could tell he was troubled...more so than he had already been about this whole business. "I got orders from General Samuels."

  "Sir?" Cain would probably have just nodded or looked intently at the general in a normal conversation, but you get used to the fact that buttoned up in armor there is no such thing as a facial gesture or expression. It becomes second nature to verbalize everything.

  "I am ordered to land the entire corps as quickly as possible and to search out and destroy any enemy forces in occupation."

  "But sir, we've never landed a force that large on any planet. Carson's World? It just doesn't make sense." Cain sounded confused. "Plus, it seems like bad tactics to me. Wouldn't it make sense to keep a tactical reserve in orbit? Especially when we have what has to be a surplus of force."

  "It gets stranger." Cain could tell that Holm was really uncertain about the mission, the first time he heard the general sound less than 100% confident. "We are ordered not to take prisoners. All enemy personnel, military or civilian, are to be terminated on sight."

  Cain was taken aback. War is war, and he'd been in more than one fight where his troops hadn't accepted surrenders, usually when the battle had been particularly costly or difficult. You can discuss morality and ethics all you want, but the battlefield isn't a classroom, and soldiers will repay savagery with savagery. But to be expressly ordered not to take prisoners was something new. As far as he could tell, an Alliance military force had never had such a directive. This mission was getting stranger and stranger.

  "I can see by the uncharacteristic silence that you think it is odd as well." Holm's voice was soft, as if he were whispering even though their conversation was totally secure. "There is something very wrong about all of this. I can't even begin to guess at what it is, but I know in my gut we're going to encounter some real surprises in this campaign." He paused. "And I want us to be ready for them." Another pause. "I want you to help me be ready."

  "What can I do, sir?" Cain often second-guessed himself, but that was all in his head. He, like the general, was always decisive and confident in action, but for once, Erik Cain had no idea what to do.

  "We need to be ready to deal with whatever happens." Holm hesitated, trying to decide how to say what he was thinking. "We have no idea what enemy forces we're going to be facing. So first we need to take care of business and win the battle."

  "I don't like landing everyone immediately." Cain was thinking out loud. "A planet's a big place, and we lose the ability to react to enemy force concentrations if we don't have a significant reserve in orbit." He hesitated. "Do you think we can, ah, slow down the landing? Maybe take a little longer to get everyone planetside?"

  "We're going to try, Erik. But don't forget the political officers. They know the orders too, and if we drag our feet too much they're going to figure it out." He paused. "I have a few tricks I'm going to use, but we're going to have to figure out what's going on pretty quickly if we're going to have time to react."

  "I can vouch for 1st Brigade, sir. Land us first, and I will tear the place apart and find out what the deal is with all of this urgency."

  Holm smiled, though in armor, of course, it lost any communication value. "I was thinking just that, Erik." He paused for a beat. "And more."

  "More, sir? What do you want me to do?"

  "You trust all the officers in your special action teams, don't you? I mean really trust them?

  "With my life, sir." Cain's reply was immediate and firm...just what Holm was hoping for. "Whatever you need, the teams will be ready."

  "Erik, most of 1st Corps is going to land and defeat the enemy occupying Carson's World." He took a deep breath. "The special action teams are going to have a different mission, a very discrete one. I want you to deploy them to scout around and find out what is happening on the planet. You will need to be careful and not attract any suspicion. It won't seem all that strange for small teams of our elite troops to be out on scouting missions."

  "I'll handle it, sir." Cain had a lot of questions and doubts about this mission too, and he was thrilled to have the general's permission to snoop around. He had a much more pessimistic view of things than Holm did; he wasn't suspicious like the general was - he was positive there was something wrong, and equally certain Alliance Gov was behind it somehow.

  "You'll have to deal directly with the company commanders. Major Jensen has his own political officer, and you'll have enough trouble keeping Captain Warren in the dark without having to worry about another one." Holm's voice was a little sad. He hated feeling like he couldn't communicate freely with his own officers. "We're also going to have to be careful how we relay information on this. We're not going to be able to do this through Sarah like we could here. Pass the word, anything to do with this is to be discussed one to one on laser-link only."

  "Yes, sir." Cain was already thinking about how to deploy his teams. "You can count on me, general."

  Holm laughed. "I know that, Erik. I hope there's no doubt on that score." The ship vibrated as the engines shut down. They could feel the weightlessness as the shuttle achieved its orbit. An instant later the small positioning thrusters fired, moving the craft slowly toward the waiting transport. "We'll be docked in a couple minutes, so let's wrap up now. Your brigade will land first, so you're going to have your hands full. As soon as you can, go over what we discussed with Jax and get him to help you with the teams." Short pause. "And Erik?"

  "Yes, sir?"

  "Don't forget we're probably going to have a nasty fight on our hands. I'm sure we're not getting the full intel, and we don't know what has made EE-4 so important, but they aren't sending the entire corps for no reason. This operation is costing more than the entire Second Frontier War, so we have to assume there is a good reason to use so much force. So be careful down there."

  "You know me, sir. Caution is my middle name."

  Holm snorted a laugh. "Only if 'lack of" is your first name. No more medals, Erik. Be careful. I can't afford to lose you, ok?"

  "Yes, sir. I promise."

  The ship com blared again. "Docking in four minutes, thirty seconds."

  "Why don't you stay for dinner. We can discuss some strategy for the drop, and you can shuttle back to your ship after."

  "Yes, sir. I'd like that."

  "And I don't think an impromptu inspection stop at the hospital ship would disrupt operations too badly."

  "Yes, general. I'd like that too."

  Chapter 13

  Alliance-PRC Combined Fleet

  Epsilon Eridani System

  Inbound from the YZ Ceti warp gate

  A wave of fast attack ships burst into the Epsilon Eridani system. They came in slow and immediately broke their formation, each ship heading out on a pre-set course, scanning for enemy detection buoys. The CAC had not held Epsilon Eridani long enough to construct a proper detection grid at the warp gate, and the screen of scanners they had emplaced was much easier to interdict. The attack ships carried robot probes on external racks and launched t
hem as soon as they'd positioned themselves after transit.

  Immediately after the attack ships, a squadron of cruisers emerged from the gravitational vortex, taking up a defensive position to protect the scouts in case the enemy had stationed forces near the warp gate. The cruisers were PRC vessels attached to the Alliance fleet. The Tokyo-based PRC and the CAC had been mortal enemies during the Unification Wars, and they had taken their enmity into space. The Alliance and the PRC were frequently allied, and almost always when fighting the CAC.

  The warp gate was undefended, however, so the cruiser squadron moved in-system and launched its own probes, extending their scanning range. With no pressing enemy threat, the attack ships completed their search and destroy mission, eliminating all CAC scanner buoys positioned around the warp gate. Their task concluded, they launched two robot drones back to the waiting fleet, giving the all clear to advance into the system.

  Twenty minutes after the drones entered the gate, ships began to transit into the system. The Cambrai was the first to emerge, closely followed by her escorts. The oldest serving capital ship in the Alliance fleet, she'd been damaged at Gliese 250 and barely completed repairs in time to depart with Admiral Garret. Elizabeth Arlington was the captain of the Cambrai, a posting she'd assumed just three days before the Second Battle of Gliese 250. She had only served under Augustus Garret for a short time, and he'd spent most of that harassing her to speed up her repair operation. Nevertheless, she still felt his loss keenly. Her junior officers and crew, who'd been under Garret for longer, were almost catatonic.

  Cambrai had been positioned at the rear of the formation as the fleet made its dash to the TZ Arietis warp gate. When Cromwell's engines were knocked offline, the rest of the fleet, still accelerating, quickly passed it by. Cambrai had been closest when the third barrage of missiles detonated. The rest of the ships had moved well past point defense range, but Cambrai was still close enough to fire at the incoming missiles, though her sole efforts were only sufficient to stop a tithe of them. Cromwell itself had been gutted by the second wave, and there was no fire at all coming from her. Cambrai was still in scanning range when the explosions began. At least five warheads detonated within a kilometer of Cromwell, and when the massive fireballs subsided there was nothing left of the great battleship. Nothing at all.

  She doubted there could have been any survivors, but her people were denied even the futile effort of conducting rescue operations - they were moving away at high velocity and accelerating, and within a few minutes they were beyond even scanning range. She knew intellectually that no one could have lived through the inferno that surrounded Cromwell, but she couldn't shake the feeling that they had abandoned their comrades. A rescue attempt would almost certainly have been fruitless, but it would also have given her people closure.

  Cambrai was the lead battleship on this operation, and Arlington had duties beyond indulging her guilt and uncertainties about the loss of Admiral Garret. She forced back the emotions and doubts and focused on matters at hand. "Carmen, tie the probes into our scanning net and send me a continuous information feed." Arlington had bucked the tiresome trend of naming AIs after naval heroes. As far as she knew, she had the only Carmen in the service.

  "Yes, Captain Arlington. I am processing all incoming data. There are no contacts to report at present." The AI's had user-programmable voice patterns, but Arlington had kept the default setting which, for female officers, was a non-descript, moderately feminine sounding tone.

  "Keep me advised of our fleet status as well." Some commanders relied heavily on their communications officers, choosing to receive information from them rather than directly from the AI. Arlington had a very analytical mind, and she preferred to work through the computer, which gave her somewhat of a reputation as a cold fish among her staff.

  "Yes, Captain Arlington. Saratoga is transiting now." The Saratoga was one of the big new Yorktown class battleships. Admiral Compton had been stationed aboard her, so when Cromwell was lost, and Garret with her, Saratoga became the new flagship. She had been slated to come through later in the progression, but Arlington figured that Compton had wanted to take a look at things for himself.

  They'd expected at least a delaying action at the warp gate, but there was nothing. No enemy presence at all beyond a thin picket of scanner buoys. If the attack ships had gotten all the scanners, the defenders wouldn't even have a good idea of the force composition they'd be facing. It was all a bit odd. But that was Compton's problem; hers was making sure Cambrai was ready for whatever the admiral needed from her. "Carmen, I want a full diagnostic run while the rest of the fleet is transiting. We've got some tape and chewing gum repairs holding things together; let's use the time we've got to make sure everything is 100%." Cambrai would be ready, she would see to that.

  Admiral Terrance Compton sat on the flag bridge of the AS Saratoga, scanning status reports as fleet units transited to the system and maneuvered into position. It was still surreal to him to be in command. Compton had served with Augustus Garret since they'd both graduated from the Academy. They had raised hell together as junior officers, and they became two of the most notorious fast attack ship commanders in the Second Frontier War, racking up a list of kills that still stood as a record.

  Compton was no stranger to the pressure of command, but this time it was different. He could feel his insides twisted into knots; part of him wanted to run to some desolate place and mourn his friend. But he didn't have the luxury to weep for a fallen brother. The fleet had lost its leader, its hero, its very heart and soul, but despite their pain and loss, the war went on. His memorial to his friend would be simple and expedient. He would give Garret's people what they needed; he would pull them through this terrible loss, single-handedly if he must, and lead them to victory. He could think of no more fitting way to honor the great man.

  He shoved his grief down into the deep recesses of his mind and then obsessed over every detail of the fleet's operation, as if he would fail Garret if a blown lighting track in a cargo hold went unreplaced. He'd been running the crew ragged to make sure things were perfect; the last thing any of them needed was time to think anyway.

  But now he was worried. Not because of the data streaming into his control center or any new intel, but in his gut. Things didn't feel right. The enemy had hit this place, apparently with enough force to take out an entire battlegroup as well as the orbital forts, but they didn't contest his entry at all. It smelled like a trap to him, but he couldn't figure it out. His orders left him little latitude, either to halt or even delay the mission, so if it was a trap he had no choice but to advance into it. But he was going to proceed cautiously, orders or no.

  He waited until the battle fleet was assembled before proceeding deeper into the system. If there was a hidden enemy waiting, he wanted to be ready. He had a powerful fleet - four battlegroups plus the PRC cruisers. The Saratoga and the Cambrai along with their escorts had left Gliese 250 with Cromwell and Admiral Garret. The Hastings and the Greene had been part of the force sent to forestall the attack on Garret. Having arrived too late to save Cromwell and the admiral, but early enough to catch the depleted CAC ships as they retired, the relief force exacted a terrible revenge, wrecking Liang Chang's fleet and taking the admiral himself prisoner. The bulk of the task force then reinforced Compton, more than replacing the firepower lost with Cromwell.

  The combined fleet continued to Columbia, where they were met by the resupply convoy and brought up to strength with missiles and bombers. They linked up with General Holm's I Corps and their array of transports and set out for Epsilon Eridani.

  That massive force of transports and assault ships now waited on the other side of the warp gate. Compton was going to be absolutely sure things were clear before he allowed them to transit. This was no smash and grab raid. Waiting on the other side of the gate was the biggest land force the Alliance had ever assembled for war on the frontier. If this was a trap - if Compton's misgivings were borne out - there wa
s no need to compound the loss of warships by having 45,000 veteran ground troops killed on their largely defenseless transports.

  The fleet took a day to maneuver into formation and, once formed up, they accelerated toward planet four. Compton ordered scoutships off in all directions, and they sent probes even further out, seeking to insure that they left no hidden enemy force behind them. But for all Compton's meticulous efforts, there were no contacts at all by the time the fleet's probes had reach scanning range of Epsilon Eridani IV.

  The probes' data continued along the same unexpected line. There was no enemy fleet anywhere within detection range; the planet was entirely undefended. Compton studied every piece of incoming information, trying to understand what was happening, and his AI fed him probe data as soon as it was received and decrypted.

  "Commander Simmons, order Captain Johan to take her squadron to the planet. I want her to scout the entire area and report back. Have her make her best time; I want this information five minutes ago." Compton snapped out the order even while his AI was still sending him reports from the probes.

  "Yes, sir." William Simmons was Compton's tactical officer. Garret's entire staff had been lost with him, so Compton's people inherited their roles, just as the admiral himself had been compelled to step into Garret's big shoes. "Estimated best time to arrival, one day, seven hours, ten minutes."

  "Joker, send a flash message to the transport fleet. They are to remain in position until the attack squadron has scouted the planet." Joker was Compton's AI, a concession to the admiral's fondness for playing cards, something he'd done with tremendous success until increasing rank made the whole enterprise a bit unseemly.

  "Yes, sir. Sending flash message to Hudson now." The AS Hudson was one of two light cruisers deployed near the warp gate to relay messages through by drone. No doubt General Garret's men and women would grumble at another day and a half of delay, but Compton was going to be sure before he put them at risk. They'd just have to wait.