“Get up,” Allison told herself. She was afraid that if she didn’t leave now, paralyzed by pain and fear, she never would. “Get up!”
She pushed herself to her knees, and then to her feet, leaning against the outside wall of the market for support. With unsteady steps she went to where she had hidden her backpack and hoisted it onto her shoulders, wincing at the weight.
After she’d gone a short way down the alley, Allison looked one last time at the Kreelans.
The newly-arrived warrior was staring at her. She pulled her lips back in a silent snarl that revealed a set of glistening ivory fangs.
Allison turned and ran.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
“We’re ready.”
Those simple words, spoken by Fleet Admiral Phillip Tiernan, commander of the Confederation Navy, sent a wave of excitement through every person sitting in the briefing room in the Presidential Complex.
At the head of the conference table sat President Natalie McKenna. The dark skin of her face that was a gift of her African heritage was deeply lined from stress and worry, but the hard look from her dark eyes was proof of indefatigable determination to defeat the Kreelan Empire and save her people.
“Go ahead, admiral.” McKenna nodded. “Let’s hear it.”
“Yes, Madam President.” Tiernan turned to the wall-sized display at the front of the room that showed a star map of the human sphere. Not all human-settled worlds had yet joined the Confederation, but there were very few holdouts after the latest wave of Kreelan invasions. “Just to recap the strategic situation, there are now a total of eighteen colonies currently under attack by forces of the Kreelan Empire. Only one, Keran, where the enemy struck us first, has been completely...assimilated.”
According to the last intelligence information the Navy had been able to obtain, the Kreelans had likely exterminated every human soul on Keran, then had begun to terraform the planet to better suit their needs.
What had happened there had driven home to everyone in the government that humanity was not simply in a battle for territory, riches, or ideology. Humanity was fighting for its very existence.
“The other planetary campaigns,” Tiernan continued, “are essentially long-term battles of attrition. From what we can tell of the enemy’s intentions, it’s basically to try and kill as many of us at close quarters as possible. They don’t seem interested in simply taking our worlds from us, because we know from the information we gained during the first contact encounter that they’re radically more advanced than we are, or at least some portion of their Empire is. Our assessment is that if they wanted to simply take something from us, or just wipe us out, they could. But for some reason, they’re taking their time about it.”
“So, you’re saying we have no chance against them?” Secretary of Trade Raul Hernandez asked the question of Tiernan, but his eyes darted to the President.
“Not at all, Mister Hernandez. Perhaps the best thing for me to say is that we simply don’t understand their intentions. We understand some of their potential capabilities from what Commodore Sato,” he nodded to a man with Japanese features who sat at the table, looking absurdly young compared to the other flag officers around him, “brought back from first contact, but we don’t understand why they do what they do, or what their strategic goals are, other than killing us one by one.” He looked around the room, finally resting his gaze on the president. “They’ve kicked us hard, and if they wanted to they could take us down.
“But I didn’t come here,” he went on, his voice deepening with resolve, “to tell you that we don’t have a chance, or that we’re just going to roll over and let them have their way.”
Hernandez, clearly not convinced, simply nodded and rested his chin on his hands, focusing on the map of humanity’s outposts among the stars, eighteen of which were displayed in red.
“What’s the target, admiral?” McKenna asked.
“Alger’s World.”
The screen zoomed in on one of the red-flagged planets, and data appeared in a pop-up. It was a rare cousin of Earth, capable of supporting human life without domes or respiration equipment. It had a population of just over five million, with a planetary economy that was based primarily on agriculture. Before the arrival of the Kreelans, Alger’s World had been a quiet, modestly successful colony in a location that had no particular strategic significance.
“Why Alger’s World?”
The question had come fromVice President Laurent Navarre, who was leaning forward, studying the information on the screen. The former ambassador of the Francophone Alliance to the Terran Government, he had been the logical choice for McKenna’s right-hand man. He had been of inestimable help to her in both forging the Confederation government and in setting in motion the largest industrial mobilization in the history of humankind to provide the weapons and material with which to fight humanity’s enemy. “Not to belittle the suffering of any of our citizens, but Alger’s World doesn’t strike me as a strategic target. Its entire population is less than some of the major cities on some of the other besieged worlds, and it has no industrial capacity to speak of. I do not ask this to sound heartless, admiral, Madam President,” he turned and nodded his head to McKenna before turning back to Tiernan, “but what do we gain strategically by mounting a major operation there?”
“In short, our plan for Alger’s World gives us the best possible chance of winning a decisive victory, Mr. Vice President.” Turning to McKenna, he went on, “Madam President, your orders to me were to find a way to strike back at the enemy and give the Confederation a success in the wake of so many invasions. The battles being fought on every planet other than Alger’s World are battles of attrition that we will likely lose in the end.” He paused, glancing momentarily at a naval officer who was new to the Confederation Navy, but who wore the stars of a full admiral. “As an example, I’m sure Admiral Voroshilov can tell you that we have very little hope of mounting a successful counteroffensive against the Kreelan forces on Saint Petersburg.”
“Our world is lost.” Lavrenti Voroshilov confirmed Tiernan’s statement without preamble. He had been the commanding officer of the Saint Petersburg Navy when Confederation forces had come to confiscate his government’s illegal nuclear weapons, and he had fought the Confederation Navy before the Kreelans had arrived.
Now, Saint Petersburg was a charnel house, and the surviving units of his fleet had been merged with that of the Confederation. Most of Saint Petersburg’s surviving population, those the Confederation had been able to evacuate, had been sent to the colony of Dobraya, where even now a massive industrialization program was underway to help build more ships that the Confederation needed to survive.
“We could send in the entire fleet and every Marine, and still we would lose. The battle is not over, but it has already been decided.”
Tiernan nodded, his expression grim. “The other larger colonies under attack are in similar straits. In a two years, if we can ramp up production of the new ship designs fast enough and expand the Marine Expeditionary Forces as rapidly as our plans are calling for, we could think about trying to take back a world like Saint Petersburg. Now...” He shook his head. “We had to choose a smaller colony that had not been completely overrun, did not have an enormous number of Kreelan warriors, and was still central enough to our primary fleet elements that we could mass an overwhelming number of ships quickly, get the job done, and then get them back on station as rapidly as possible. We’ve been waiting for this opportunity for months, and Alger’s World is it. We don’t expect that a victory there is really going to hurt the Kreelans in a strategic sense, but it will give us some good news to tell the people.”
“It will not hurt the morale of the fleet and Marines, either,” Voroshilov added.
“So this is like the so-called ‘Doolittle Raid,’ is it not?” Navarre asked.
Tiernan nodded, impressed at the vice president’s historical knowledge, but there were blank looks from everyone else around the table.
“Forgive my dredging up ancient history,” Navarre apologized. “It was during Earth’s Second World War, when the United States was reeling from a succession of defeats by the Empire of Japan. Then-President Roosevelt needed a victory to give the American people hope, and the United States Navy and Army Air Corps came up with a plan to bomb Japan using land-based bombers flown from a naval aircraft carrier. The raid caused little real damage, but was a blow to Japanese morale as much as it was a boon to that of the Americans.” He gestured toward the map. “This strikes me as similar, at least in terms of our morale. The effect on the Kreelans, we may never know.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” McKenna told them, “what the vice president said cuts to the heart of what we’re trying to accomplish here. The success of this operation is vital from a political perspective, regardless of any military gains. Many of the planetary governments, not to mention their citizens, are near panic. After the last wave of attacks, there has even been talk of secession, with some people believing that the formation of the Confederation has somehow encouraged the Kreelans to attack more of our worlds.”
“Rubbish!” Voroshilov spat.
“I agree, admiral, but people everywhere are terrified, with every one of them wondering if their world will be the next to sound the invasion sirens. And that’s without the knowledge of how thinly spread the fleet really is. With the current campaigns underway, there aren’t enough ships to mount a credible defense against more than half a dozen worlds, including Earth.”
Tiernan and Voroshilov exchanged a look, then Tiernan nodded unhappily.
“We’re not just fighting the Kreelans now,” McKenna went on. “We’re fighting the worst enemy mankind has ever known: unreasoning fear. And I have very little with which to fight it. The Confederation has no deep-rooted traditions or other social fabric to hold it together, no historical flag around which I can rally our people. Right now the Confederation is still a relatively loose alliance of worlds brought together by the need for common defense, and it’s held together by little more than treaty and this government’s commitment to help member worlds build up their defenses.
“We’re doing that, but the chronic fear our citizens are suffering, especially after the most recent attacks, is leading to irrational beliefs that can’t be defeated by reason. Secession may sound like a crazy idea from where we sit, but if people don’t believe the Confederation can protect them, cutting their ties and trying to lay low starts to look like an attractive option.” Her expression hardened. “Make no mistake. If the Confederation splinters and breaks apart, our species is doomed. That’s why this operation must succeed, because a victory, even on a small, backwater colony world, will show our people that all is not lost and give them hope. And hope is a weapon I can use to combat their fears.”
“We will succeed, Madam President,” Tiernan assured her. “I can’t say at what price, and I hope I don’t sound arrogant when I say this, but we’re going to win this one.” He turned and gestured toward Sato. “And I’d now like to introduce Commodore Ichiro Sato, who’s going to go over the details of how we’re going to do it.”
McKenna watched as the young commodore moved to the podium and stood at attention. Sato had become a household name throughout the Confederation. The sole survivor of the ill-fated ship that had made first contact with the Kreelans, he had gone on to have two more ships shot out from under him, one at Keran and the other, his first command, at Saint Petersburg. Unlike most of his peers, who wore several rows of ribbons, Sato only had two. The lower one held his campaign decorations for Keran and Saint Petersburg, while the top one held the ribbon for the Medal of Honor, which McKenna had presented to him.
Sato was fifteen years younger than the next youngest flag officer in the room, and had gone from a midshipman aboard the ill-fated Aurora to commodore in a mere three years. Many senior officers had complained about Sato’s rapid promotion to commander, but none had complained about him receiving his first star as commodore. Most of his detractors had died in combat.
Looking at the younger man as he stepped up to the podium, Tiernan knew that Sato didn’t have everything a peacetime flag officer needed to be successful. But this wasn’t peacetime, and Tiernan needed warriors. More importantly, he needed leaders of warriors. And that’s exactly what Sato was.
“Madam President,” the young commodore began, bowing his head slightly, “Admiral Tiernan, ladies and gentlemen. As the admiral already noted, our target is Alger’s World, which the Kreelans invaded nine days ago. Most of the human population is settled in small towns distributed through open country that is well-suited for agricultural production, which was another important consideration for the ground phase of the battle plan, which we’ll cover shortly.
“Navy reconnaissance missions into the target system have indicated that the Territorial Army probably no longer exists as a cohesive force, but radio transmissions clearly show that there is continued organized human resistance. We have no idea how many survivors there may be, but based on projections derived from the assimilation of Keran, we believe that the majority of the population is still alive.”
“How old is this information?” McKenna asked.
“Six days, Madam President. The emergency courier departed for Earth as soon as the naval detachment there sounded the invasion alert, and we dispatched a reconnaissance vessel as soon as we received the alert at Naval HQ.”
Courier ships were used to route communications between star systems, storing up batches of data in one system before jumping to another to download it to a relay and upload another batch for the next jump. It was a huge hindrance for military planning, because some of the star systems under siege were weeks away by hyperlight travel.
Fortunately, Alger’s World was much closer.
“Please continue.”
Sato turned to the map on the wall, which now showed a glowing green icon that moved in a graceful arc toward Alger’s World. “The first part of the operation involves the covert insertion of several ground reconnaissance teams. The Kreelans are able, through means we do not yet understand, to selectively defeat or disrupt our high technology weapons and sensors, apparently at will. We’re hoping that these teams will be able to provide the reconnaissance we need for the ground phase of the operation without involving high-technology assets that may not work.
“The ships transporting the teams are modified courier vessels that are already on their way to the system. We sent them in as quickly as possible so they’ll be able to get the teams on the ground with as much lead time as possible.”
“You sent them in before the operation was approved?” McKenna asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” Sato made no attempt to dodge what some might have considered a freight-train sized bullet. “You see, we have another courier standing by that will deliver your ‘go’ order to the reconnaissance teams. If for any reason the teams don’t receive that order, they’ll automatically abort the mission and return home.”
“Very well, commodore. I applaud the initiative, and as Admiral Tiernan can confirm,” she smiled, “I try very hard not to micromanage the fleet’s operations.”
That earned a number of grins and a few chuckles from those around the table.
“Then what happens?”
“Concurrent with the deployment of the scout teams,” Sato continued, “we’ll be sending couriers with orders for Fleet elements from fourteen systems. Those ships will deploy from their current duties to participate in the assault.” A list of ships appeared on the display, with lines connecting them to the fourteen different systems. “As you can see, we are taking only a handful of vessels from each system to minimize the impact on operations, as eleven of these systems are currently under siege.
“The main drawback is that the assault fleet will not have had the opportunity to train as an integrated unit, but this will allow us to bring a very potent force to bear at Alger’s World quickly. Based on reconnaissance data, we should initially have a
ratio of at least four to one in warships, and nearly ten to one in total tonnage.”
He paused as the map display showed a depiction of the courier ships heading out from Earth with orders for the other systems, then the warship flotillas jumping in sequence to Alger’s World.
“I must point out that the most critical aspect of the operation is the sequencing of the jumps for the assault fleet. We intend to have all of our warships arrive over Alger’s World within a window of only sixty seconds. The main risk factor is that they’ll be jumping deep into the planet’s gravity well using techniques pioneered by Admiral Voroshilov at Saint Petersburg.” He nodded toward the Russian admiral, whose attention was fixed on the screen. “This should give us complete tactical surprise and allow us to deploy the Marine assault force under a solid shield of warships.” He paused. “But I must advise you that this is the first time, during war or peace, that any navy has attempted such a complex navigational maneuver.”
“Admiral Voroshilov,” McKenna asked quietly, “you don’t look very happy.”
“I am not,” Voroshilov replied, turning to look her in the eye. “Do not misunderstand, please. The plan is a good one, and Commodore Sato and his planning staff have done an amazing job of bringing it together.
“The danger is that we are pushing right to the limits of our computational capabilities for navigation. After a long and lively debate, we decided not to stage the fleet closer and then jump in. That would take precious additional time to reach Alger’s World, and would also prolong the time the ships are away from their other vital duties, as well as lead to further civilian casualties on Alger’s World.
“But there is great risk, Madam President. If the fleet arrives out of sequence, we run the risk of being defeated in detail by Kreelan forces and newly arriving warships interpenetrating with existing ones when they come out of their jumps.
“I also worry about the accuracy of our navigational data for jumping so deep into the gravity well. We were able to test and verify our mapping many times in Saint Petersburg before the Confederation fleet arrived. This time we will have only the remote sensor data from surveillance vessels. It will be difficult. And that is not all.” He frowned.
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