Maxwell Saga 5: Stoke the Flames Higher

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Maxwell Saga 5: Stoke the Flames Higher Page 26

by Peter Grant


  She sighed. “That’s what we’re here for. It’s been a long day. I guess you’re as tired as we are; and we’ve both got a lot more to do tonight – you to prepare for the morning’s assaults, and us to prepare to receive their casualties. Try to keep those down as much as you can, please!”

  “From your lips to God’s ears, doctor. I lost too many good Marines today.” He gestured to the last of the body bags as it was loaded. “God forbid I lose any more… but the Kotai are probably saying the same thing to their God about their people right now. He must shake his head at the human race sometimes.”

  “ ‘He’, Colonel?” There was a mischievous grin on her face. “I like to think of her as a goddess, myself.”

  Neilson had to smile. “He, she or it, I hope they look after my Marines who died today. I won’t even begrudge that to the dead Kotai, too – just so long as the deity doesn’t send them back here. It’d be too much like hard work to have to kill the bastards again!”

  —————

  VELLALORE ORBIT – LCS PICKLE – 18:30

  Steve joined the diplomats in the guest quarters for supper. He knew they’d been chafing at the delay in returning to Lancaster, and took the opportunity to explain why they’d be staying at Athi a day or two longer.

  “But why this ship?” Marisela exclaimed angrily. She seemed to be taking the delay personally. “Why not tell one of those destroyers to take the news?”

  “First off, ma’am, they’re not Commonwealth ships. They belong to the Bihar Confederation. We can’t give them orders. Second, after this morning’s losses, they make up half of the warships at the disposal of the UP mission here. One of them is already scheduled to head for Bihar, to take the news of what happened here and at Devakai. I doubt very much whether they can spare another until reinforcements get here. Third, this ship can hyper-jump six times every day, compared to a destroyer’s maximum of four. Even if we wait two days before we leave, we’ll still get to Lancaster a couple of days before a destroyer could make it, even if she left this evening. For all those reasons, and because this crisis relates to what happened at Devakai, I’ve agreed to carry Commodore Singh’s dispatches.”

  “But isn’t this delegation supposed to be your primary concern?”

  “You are, ma’am; but we’ve run into unique circumstances that have required us to cope with completely unexpected events. In particular, I don’t want one of those Kotai patrol craft shooting us out of space as we head for the system boundary. I’m sure you wouldn’t like that either!” The sudden worry on her face showed she understood. “I’m sorry they’ve delayed our passage homeward, but you must surely understand we aren’t deliberately trying to put obstacles in your path. There’s nothing I’d like more than to get to Lancaster at once, if not sooner.”

  Solveig asked, from further down the table, “Won’t this morning’s losses reflect very badly on the Fleet?”

  “Is this on or off the record?” Steve responded, looking at her.

  “Well… if you won’t say anything on the record, I’ll respect an off-the-record comment.”

  “Thank you. Off the record and not for repetition or publication – that applies to all of you,” and he looked around the table meaningfully, “this morning was a tragedy for the Fleet. We lost four of our ships and over a hundred and twenty people. That’s not a huge loss in terms of our overall size, but it’s as bad as it can be for all the families waiting for their loved ones to come home. Tactically it’s a serious setback for this mission. In terms of the attitude of the Fleet towards minor planets like Devakai, it’s going to demand a far-reaching reassessment of how we approach them. Let’s give credit where credit is due. Those Devakai spacers used their antiquated, obsolete equipment to best advantage, and showed courage and skill of a very high order. There are two more of their patrol craft out there somewhere, plus their mother ship, plus dozens of small craft heading for Athi orbit. If they all perform as well as their patrol craft did this morning, we’ll have our work cut out for us.”

  “Are you saying they could pose a threat to this ship, even here in Vellalore orbit?” Solveig asked. A rumble of concern ran around the table as the other diplomats looked at him nervously.

  “Yes, they can. We’re doing everything in our power to minimize that, of course. We’re using our active sensors at full power. Each of our ships can scan a sphere with a radius of about a million kilometers, and after this morning, you’d better believe we’re all scanning every cubic centimeter of it! What’s more, if they use their gravitic drives to maneuver, they’ll expose themselves to our passive sensors. Even at the lowest power setting, we’ll spot them inside five million kilometers. At full power, we’ll see them anywhere in this system.”

  “And what if they get within missile range of us?” Chaudor, the United Planets liaison officer for the mission, demanded. His voice was shrill, almost panicky.

  “We have four patrol craft englobing the planet, and one of the Bihar destroyers backstopping them,” Steve reminded him. “Between them they have close to two hundred main battery missiles, and the same number of defensive missiles. Most of our ships also have defensive laser clusters. We’ve got an excellent chance of detecting and destroying their ships before they can fire. Even if they launch missiles, our counter-missiles and laser clusters should be able to stop them before they reach us. That’s why all the unarmed auxiliary vessels, including this one, are orbiting Vellalore. We’re gathered inside the thickest part of the defensive umbrella around Athi.”

  “But they got through the defenses of those patrol craft this morning,” Eileen Humboldt pointed out. “They might get through yours, too. Wouldn’t we be safer if we went down to the planet, and waited there for your ships to deal with them?”

  “You’d be safer from their ships’ missiles, yes, ma’am,” Steve agreed wryly, “but not from the four thousand-odd armed Kotai who plan to land on Athi tomorrow, or the two to three thousand who are there already.”

  A long, gloomy silence greeted his words. Clearly, the diplomats wanted to be gone from Athi as fast and as far as possible. I can hardly blame them, Steve thought to himself. After all, I and my entire crew feel the same way.

  —————

  ATHI SYSTEM – DEVAKAI PATROL CRAFT SHALYA – 19:30

  Lieutenant Vellala studied his Plot display carefully. He’d expected to attack four Bihar Confederation destroyers; but only three of them were in the advanced patrol line, and it was now a lot less advanced than it had been. What’s more, each of them had deployed two drones, which were probing ahead of and around the line of ships. That would make it much more difficult to approach to within missile firing range, particularly because their missiles had three times the range of his.

  I can’t let down my comrades, he fretted to himself. They’re relying on me to disrupt that patrol line, so that as many as possible of our people can get through it to reach the planet. They’ll still have to deal with the patrol craft there, but that’s Anandkumar’s problem. If he accomplishes his mission, he’ll draw them off for sure. He smiled at the thought of his friend, who was undoubtedly conning Bhishma closer to the enemy somewhere nearby. If anyone could find a way to accomplish the impossible, Anandkumar would. He was almost as good at improvisation as his father.

  He ran more calculations on his console, throwing up the results on the Plot display. For over an hour he tried various combinations and permutations, until at last he began to smile.

  If I use my reaction thrusters to brake now, I can reduce Shalya to two-thirds of her present speed within a couple of hours. If I coast along slowly for a few hours, then accelerate again, I can be up to speed again and within reach of the destroyers in time to attack. Our first small craft should reach the destroyer line by about nine tomorrow morning. We must be ready to hit them then, to force them to concentrate on Shalya instead. In the name of the Incarnate God, Kodan Sastagan, we shall triumph!

  He fired up his ship’s reaction thrus
ters, then broadcast to his crew. “Let’s relax for a few hours. Half of you take off from nineteen to twenty-one, and the other half from twenty-one to twenty-three. Don’t sleep, but get yourselves a meal, walk around, stretch your muscles – even take a quick shower, if you like. It’s not as though we need to conserve our water supply!” He could hear laughter echoing down the corridor as his crew reacted to the joke, and his heart swelled with pride in them. Even staring almost certain death in the face, their faith and confidence were unshakeable.

  “I’m sure you’ve all been praying at your battle stations, but take time to visit the temple compartment, too. Remember, we fight in the name of the Incarnate God! Everyone must be back at your battle station by twenty-three.”

  He turned to his Ensign. “Prepare to launch missiles.”

  The younger man looked at him from the other side of the bridge, startled. “Launch missiles, sir? But we’re far out of range!”

  “Don’t worry, Ensign. Let me show you.”

  He spent five minutes outlining his attack plan. By the time he’d finished, the Ensign’s eyes were shining with excitement.

  “It’s brilliant, sir! It’s sure to deceive them!”

  “Thank the Incarnate God for that. He promised he would inspire us. I feel his presence strongly tonight.”

  “Why only twelve missiles, sir? Why not all sixteen?”

  “Because we’ll need to fire a few later, to look convincing. The rest will take them completely by surprise. Come on, help me prepare them.”

  —————

  ATHI ORBIT – ORBITAL CONTROL CENTER – 23:00

  Commodore Singh stood at the Plot display, staring at the icons representing destroyers, patrol craft and auxiliaries. Further out, he knew, there were dozens of enemy craft. Only two posed much of a threat to his warships, but the rest would be deadly if they could get to the planet’s surface.

  Have I done everything I can? he asked himself for the umpteenth time. Is there anything more I can do? Is there anything I should undo? His questions echoed, unanswered, in his head. Only tomorrow’s fight would show whether he’d planned appropriately.

  He ran his eyes over the patrolling ships. Three destroyers and their six drones, half a light-hour out from the planet, were spread across the likely Kotai line of approach. Four patrol craft englobed the planet, two light-minutes out. One destroyer backstopped them, staying close to the four auxiliary ships orbiting Vellalore, to provide them with additional protection against incoming missiles. She was also in position to protect Karaidi, just in case the Kotai freighter’s captain had any ideas about crashing her into the city. That was starkly unthinkable to him… but the Kotai had proved time and again that they were willing to, not just think the unthinkable, but do it.

  I’m going to write the best letter of commendation I know how to the Admiralty on Lancaster about Lieutenant-Commander Maxwell, he thought gratefully. If he hadn’t given us early warning, and hadn’t reminded us about things like the potential threat to Karaidi, who knows where we’d be by tomorrow? Losing four patrol craft this morning was bad enough, but it’s nothing like as bad as what might have happened if we’d been caught unawares, with most of our ships sitting targets in orbit. That just doesn’t bear thinking about!

  His eyes went to the small dots in the Plot that represented ambulance shuttles. Three had lifted off from the Marine base some hours before, and were now merging with the bigger icon of LCHS Edith Cavell in orbit around Vellalore. More were following them from other bases. Silently he said a prayer for the patients aboard them… and all the dead, too. They’d paid in blood to prepare the ground for tomorrow morning’s combat. Vishnu grant that their preparations would not be in vain!

  —————

  VELLALORE ORBIT – LCHS EDITH CAVELL – 23:30

  “Easy now… watch that corner… don’t hit it…” The Intensive Care supervisor backed ahead of the evacuation pod as they wheeled it into her domain, watching like a hawk in case it bumped into anything. She’d cleared a path into an oversized cubicle. Her team looked on as the transfer team hooked up the pod to the service lines, then ran a quick check on its instruments.

  “It looks all right,” the transfer supervisor reported when he was satisfied. “If you’ll sign off, we’ll –”

  “Wait just a moment,” his counterpart said firmly as she crossed to the center island. She called up her own test routines and ran them on the pod, verifying that its systems were telling her what they should. At last she nodded. “I think that’ll do.” She typed rapidly on a keyboard, then pressed a button. “Receipt’s on the way to you.”

  The transfer supervisor checked his comm unit. “Got it, thanks.”

  As they trooped out, one of his techs muttered softly, “Damned anal-retentive IC nurses! You’d think she didn’t trust us to know what we’re doing!”

  “She doesn’t,” his boss informed him bluntly, “and she’s not anal-retentive. Fleet IC staff tend to be hard-nosed. That’s how they keep their patients alive – and that one’s going to need all the help he can get!”

  Behind them, a nurse asked her supervisor, “When are they going to take him out of the pod?”

  “That won’t happen until they’re satisfied that the artificial systems taking over for his heart and kidneys are working properly, and all the poisons that got dumped into his bloodstream by his injured limbs and failing organs have been flushed out. Look, you can see the filtration unit’s working overtime.” She indicated a digital gauge that was flickering dangerously close to the red zone. “I think we’ll connect another unit in series, to help that one out. Come on, people, snap to it!”

  The second unit eased the strain on the first, so that the gauge sank back to the midpoint of its range. The supervisor watched narrowly, then slowly allowed herself to relax. “That’s better. If he continues to stabilize, he may come out of the pod in a couple of days. They might even operate next week, to put in an artificial heart and plumb him for long-term dialysis. If he lives, he’s got a couple of years of surgeries ahead of him.”

  December 7, 2851 GSC, 05:00 – 09:30

  ATHI: KALADUR VALLEY – 05:00

  The lookout tensed in his sangar as a faint rumble came to his ears. He listened intently as it slowly grew louder, then picked up the radio at his side. “Sentry Five. I’m hearing what sounds like reaction thrusters coming from the east. They’re moving this way.”

  His commander’s voice replied, “Keep listening. I’ll sound the alarm.”

  An air horn began to blast from the central sangar, taken up on the left and right wings as subordinate commanders joined in. Within a minute, almost five hundred fighters had shaken off their bedding, snatched up their weapons and huddled inside the rapidly-thrown-together stone and sandbag barriers that protected their fighting positions. Behind them a flat-topped mesa, selected as one of the primary landing-grounds for their comrades’ assault shuttles and other small craft, stretched away into the darkness.

  Sentry Five was puzzled. The rumble of thrusters was right overhead now, but high up, not descending as it would if assault shuttles were about to land an assault force. It could only be the foreign devil Marines… no-one else would come this far out into the middle of nowhere… but why weren’t they attacking?

  He was answered as a thunderous torrent of mortar bombs descended out of the pre-dawn gloom and smashed into almost every sangar. Invisible target designator beams from the shuttles above ensured almost total accuracy. More than four-fifths of the defending force died within seconds, most without knowing what had hit them. The rest were thrown into complete disarray.

  The sentry’s sangar was one of the few that escaped a direct hit, largely because it was very small, and tucked out of the way against a rocky outcrop. He raised himself to peer over the edge. Through his night-vision goggles he glimpsed movement on the slopes below, and jumped up to yell, “Brothers, they’re coming up the hillside! They’re –”

  A charged
particle beam from a Marine sniper cut him in half before he could finish his warning. The assault force had been dropped a long way out, covering the ground and climbing the mesa swiftly and silently using its powered armor. It poured over the lip of the rise and into every sangar before the surviving Kotai could muster an effective defense. Some Marines fell wounded; two were killed; but the enemy died to a man.

  The victorious assault team called down the shuttles. They unloaded heavy cargoes of missiles, energy weapons, rations and other gear, then carried aboard their dead and wounded comrades. The shuttles headed back to Battalion HQ, while the Marines stacked the bodies of the slain Kotai, covered them with camouflage netting, and began to upgrade their defensive positions. The sangars would no longer face outward, to repel interference with the landings, but look inward across the mesa. The newcomers from Devakai, expecting to be greeted here with open arms by their fellow believers later that day, were going to receive a rather warmer welcome than they’d bargained for.

  —————

  ATHI – HEADQUARTERS, 24th MARINE EXPEDITIONARY BATTALION – 07:00

  Lieutenant-Colonel Neilson accepted a message tablet from a sergeant, read it swiftly, and grunted in satisfaction. He picked up a handset. “Get me General Attenborough… Good morning, General. We’ve taken all three Kotai positions with minimal casualties, and my Marines are setting up their reception committees as we speak. The last of our shuttles are on the way back here.”

  “Wonderful! The Darwin battalion took out two of their targets with little difficulty. The third one’s proving a harder nut to crack – it had more Kotai in it than we’d predicted – but they’re sending reinforcements, and expect to finish it off within the hour. My congratulations to all your Marines. I’ll tell them personally when this is all over, and we have time to catch our breath. Also, please nominate that Warrant Officer in charge of your mortars for a suitable award. I watched some of his work on your shuttle relay this morning. He’s done a magnificent job. I’m thinking of asking for him to be seconded to Darwin for a tour of duty when this is all over, to tell our people how you did it and help to train them in your methods. I’ve never seen heavy mortars employed more effectively.”

 

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