* * *
The fire to front seemed to slacken for a moment, intensified, then fell precipitously. “What’s going on, Mandrake?” questioned the Admiral over the CinC circuit.
“We don’t know yet, Admiral,” said the woman, her voice high with tension and adrenaline. “But it sounds like someone has attacked the Nation’s blocking force we ran into.”
The Admiral digested that for a moment, coming to a decision in an instant. “Attack them,” he ordered, knowing that he was taking a risk.
“But sir,” said Mandrake, letting out a hissing breath. “We don’t know who these newcomers are.”
“Don’t think about it, Commander,” said the Fleet Admiral, pushing his best command voice through the com. “Don’t think about it. Just attack. We may never have a better chance.”
“Aye aye, sir,” replied the officer. “All troops on the northern front. Move forward, full attack.”
“And tell them to be careful to not shoot at our new friends,” cautioned the Admiral. “We may need their aid after this firefight.”
“But, we don’t even know what they look like,” answered the Commander, exasperation in her voice.
“They probably don’t look like the Marines or Spacers from the Nation of Humanity,” said the Admiral, a thin smile on his face. “I’ll have the hide of anyone who attacks them.”
“Yes sir,” said the officer, resignation in her voice this time. “We’ll attack all out, but commit no blue on blue incidents against a blue we can’t recognize.”
“Good woman,” said the Admiral with a smile. “You’ll go far.” As long as any of us survive to go far in this cluster.
* * *
The hyper-v came in low and fast. Pandora barely had time to react to the alarm from her suit. The suit itself knew what to do, and it did it, rocketing her upward at its maximum velocity, ten gees above the capacity of its inertial compensators. The missile curved up to follow, but its speed worked against it and it flew by meters off target. The suit stopped and automatically fired a pair of seeker rockets from her backpack sheath. The rockets, not as fast as the hyper-v, sped to the missile’s point of origin and blasted the area, killing the gunner and wounding the assistant.
Pandi’s consciousness came back quickly, the result of training, vascular augmentation and nanites. She realized immediately that she was too much of a target hanging up here in the air. She cursed under her breath as she fired a particle beam at the one survivor of the team, then dropped quickly back to the ground. She flew along the ground to the position the rocket had come from, keeping her awareness spread out to cover the area around her, while ordering her robots to make haste and come up on her flanks.
She brought the suit to a touchdown as she came to the position. The launcher was lying just out of reach of the dead gunner, and Pandora bent to pick it up, looking at the missile that was still in one of the four tubes of the weapon. She realized the gunner must have fired the other two off at the Suryans, before she came within sight. She also made a mental note to look out for these things, which could splatter her through her armor.
Pandora pulled the remaining missile from the tube, her eyes widening as she looked at the half meter long cylinder with three small grabber units front and rear. This is technology they stole, she thought, turning the missile over in her hands. We didn’t even give grabber tech to the Suryans. If they use this tech on their ships, the Suryans are well and truly fucked.
She threw the missile to the ground, not really knowing what else to do with it. By that time her bots were up with her on her flanks. She checked them on the HUD and cursed again as she noted there were only sixteen of them, meaning she had lost five just rolling up a quarter of the enemy’s line. No help for it. Just have to keep going until it’s done, or I am.
[Move out] she sent over the link, then waited a moment for the robots to precede her. I think I need to play General Eisenhower from here on, she thought. General Patton is going to get me killed, and then where’s the Army. Moments later weapons fire filled the jungle as she continued to roll up the flanks.
* * *
“Cease fire,” yelled Lt Commander Dasha Mandrake, grimacing as she watched a squad of her troops blasts limbs off of a battlebot that was definitely not of Nation construction. The xenophobes would only make humanoid robots, believing that only the form God gave them was worthy of reproduction. These were much more utilitarian, and looked to be of much more sophisticated construction. Still, a half hundred hits by kinetic rounds, followed by a couple of heavy laser beams, and even such a war machine would go down.
Mandrake froze in place as another machine came bounding around a tree. She made a hand motion to one of the Marines who had raised a weapon to track this bot. “Don’t shoot, dammit. Do you want to start a war against our allies?” The Marine lowered his weapon, but she could tell by body language that everyone in the squad was afraid.
The robot looked them over, then looked down at its dead brother, then back at the humans. Mandrake could not tell what it was thinking behind those dozen eyes on its head. She just hoped it wasn’t any kind of emotion.
“I’m on your side, dammit,” came the voice of a human female from the machine, accented in a way the commander had never before heard. But she had heard of that female, the one who was consort to the being that ran the space station around the black hole. The commander felt the thrill of almost religious awe. This was the stuff of legends, like the demigods of the past.
“I’m sorry,” she told the robot, and through it the woman, Pandora Latham. “We’re all a little trigger happy in the middle of a firefight.”
“Well, get trigger happy with the other fellas,” said that accented voice, the head of the robot rotating around. “If you would, take up a flank position on this robot and follow us. We could use the firepower, and you’all might be able to keep you and yours from shooting up any more of my machines.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said the Commander, turning to the rest of the squad that was with her. “You heard the robot, I mean lady. Let’s help her roll up these bastards.”
The squad cheered, then fell in to the right of the robot in a spread combat formation. And when the machine went forward, so did they.
* * *
“What the hell is going on?” yelled Colonel Makari Quaid into the com. Squad after squad was dropping off the net, while the cursed Suryans were also launching an attack on his already preoccupied units. He had tried to get Major Dumas to attack through the enemy, but it seemed that the bastards had figured that one was coming, and had reinforced their platoon facing the Major’s force.
Now the crackling of small arms fire and explosions were coming closer. Along with a sound like a million angry bees that ripped for a second or two before stopping.
“Steady men,” said the Colonel over the com, holding his own weapon up, trying to prepare to get a sight picture on the first of the enemy that showed themselves.
Unfortunately those enemy were in the trees, moving from trunk to trunk. The first awareness the Nation forces had of them was when they opened fire. There were still some lucky return hits that took out a couple of the bots. But the Colonel was not one of the lucky ones. He saw the young woman before she saw him, and his carbine hit her a dozen times in a shower of sparks. Then that angry bee sound blotted out everything else. The Colonel didn’t hear it. The particle beam traveled much faster than sound, and his armored suit was already a can containing a hundred kilos of cooked meat and ash before their waves reached him.
* * *
“Good to see you again, Admiral,” said Pandora, the visor back and helmet retracted on her armor.
“And we’re very glad to see you, young lady,” said the Admiral, taking her armored hands in his. The Admiral looked at the young woman and wished that he were younger, though thinking of her consort made him glad that he wasn’t a challenge to Watcher. “What brought you to our rescue?”
“Just wanted to send som
e of those fanatical bastards to hell,” said Pandi, a smile on her face.
I wish she didn’t have to speak in such a profane manner, thought the Admiral, returning the smile. He knew that Watcher and his lovely consort didn’t have the religious views of his people, that they didn’t aid Surya because of any love of their philosophy, religion or culture. In fact, they only aided Surya at all because they were the enemies of the madmen of the Nation. That was their common ground, and he would do nothing that would jeopardize that alliance, even if it meant risking the souls of those two. “We’re glad to have you here,” said the Admiral, sincerely meaning every word. “You saved every man and woman here.”
“Wish I could have saved more,” said the woman, looking down to the ground and grinding one foot back and forth. “I didn’t think those fanatics would think so well under pressure.”
“You can’t expect your opponents to act like total idiots,” said the Admiral, shaking his head. “You can hope, but you can’t expect. They have their own plans, which normally don’t include sticking their heads beneath the ax.”
The ground rumbled underfoot, and the Admiral looked up at the canopy and narrowed his eyes.
“That what I think it is?” asked Pandora, squinting her eyes as she looked up at the shaking trees and falling leaves.
“Kinetic strikes,” said the Admiral, nodding his head. “Since we broke contact with their ground forces they feel free to hit us with the hammer. I suggest we get under cover, fast.”
“You have a place?” asked Latham, her deep blue eyes looking into the officer’s.
“There’s a series of deep caverns very near to here,” said the small man, looking up the path. “The locals showed them to us, and we cleared out the dangers.”
“How deep?” asked Pandi, her eyes narrowing.
“They go at least a kilometer into the rock,” said the admiral. “With granite mountains overhead. And there are dozens of possible exits, so I doubt we will be trapped by a landslide.” The Admiral looked around and noticed that several of the Maurid locals were back, after having disappeared during the firefight. Can’t blame them for that, he thought. Flesh and primitive weapons had no place in a modern battle. But he also made a note to keep an eye on them in the future.
“Well, lead on McDuff,” said Pandora, gesturing with a hard gauntleted hand toward the path. “Before we catch a random rock from the sky.”
Krishnamurta nodded his head and smiled as he led the young woman to the caves, nervously looking upward at each rumble. That was when the earth jumped beneath his feet sending him to the ground. There was a bright flash through the forest, and the admiral cried out, just before strong hands grabbed him and arrested his fall.
“Big kinetic strike there,” said Pandora Latham, her voice sounding slightly more robotic now that her helmet had automatically extended and covered her head. “Hope we don’t have too many like that.”
“We had better move,” said the Admiral, looking with fear filled eyes in the direction that the flash had come from. A moment later a hot wind blew through the trees, whipping branches and leaves into a frenzy.
“Agreed,” said the woman, picking the Admiral up under the armpits and lifting from the ground. She sped away down the path, passing frightened men, women and Maurids who were making their way to safety as fast as they could.
Chapter Eleven
Get there first with the most. Nathan Bedford Forrest
Admiral Miklas Gerasi, Nation of Humanity, sat on the bridge of the Orca as the flagship orbited around the Maurid planet. He had to admit that it was beautiful, with its orange coloration combined with blue seas and white clouds. He could enjoy such a view if he didn’t have so many other things on his mind. And as soon as we rid it of its verminous intelligent life it will be a beautiful home for man.
One of the things he was concerned about had to do with the small bright flashes that were appearing on that surface. Midas had ordered several of his ships to begin a kinetic bombardment on the area where the enemy had last been seen, before they broke contact with the interference of that woman. The same one, it would seem, as she who had piloted the small spaceship that had taken out so much of his own force. The harlot, he thought, imagining the day when he had her in his control. She copulates with an abomination, and so becomes an abomination herself. Her entry into Hell shall be a release from the Earthly pain I will impose upon her, and an introduction to true eternal pain. But first he had to catch her.
“We cannot locate them,” said Commodore Midas over the com. “They’re under cover, and there are just too damned many of those damned microsats in orbit, jamming us. And that damned exothermic vegetation isn’t helping.”
The Admiral grimaced as he nodded his head. They estimated that there were tens of thousands of the solar powered wafer sized satellites in orbit, each a surveillance platform and com link. Individually they weren’t worth much. In their thousands they were capable of much, including causing disruption to his own sensory and communications systems. His ships were destroying them as they found them, but finding them was the problem. It would probably take a week or more to degrade the system enough where it wasn’t a threat to his operations.
And the plant life was also a nightmare. Not just the motile and carnivorous vegetation. But who had ever heard of plants that were hot blooded (hot sapped?). Who but the Devil would have created such a place? Maybe we should just burn the surface to ash and start over.
“We’re getting ready to send more troops down to the planet,” said the Commodore, his face looking strained in the viewer.
Like mine wouldn’t if I lost half my command, then a good portion of my remaining Marines. “Belay that order, Commodore,” he said to the man, nodding toward his own Tactical Officer. “I’m going to hit them hard with some heavy kinetics.”
“My own bombardment vessels got taken out by that bitch,” said Midas, wearing a scowl.
“We still have a couple,” said the Admiral, a smile crossing his face. “We’ll stay in high orbit and hit them with something a little more lethal. But go ahead and evacuate your men.”
“I thought you wanted prisoners,” said the Commodore with a frown, raising an eyebrow.
“Not at the cost of more men,” said Gerasi, crossing his arms over his chest. “Not if we can take them out the easy way.”
Gerasi waited for a few minutes, watching the screen that showed the green dots of the Marines heading back to the landing field. He looked over at the repeater screen to his two bombardment ships. Both were the same size as Orca, about six hundred and eighty meters in length, and were in fact built to the same plan. At nine hundred and fifty thousand tons they were the largest ships his nation had ever built. And they had the same compliment, two thousand Spacers and six hundred Marines. But they carried a score of the larger kinetic weapons that would hit the surface with the power of a twenty megaton bomb, unlike the ten to twenty kiloton range of the smaller weapons.
Cachalot and Grampus maneuvered into position, their noses pointed down at the planet thirty thousand kilometers below. Cachalot fired first, releasing the purpose build kinetic round through the magnetic accelerator that ran the length of her hull. The round left the tube, while the ship’s engines pushed the vessel forward to take up the recoil. The large rounded cylinder fell through the atmosphere, building up more velocity, until it disappeared from view.
Gerasi watched the screen that showed the planetary surface, waiting. The second ship would wait until the impact of the first strike was revealed, so she would know where to fire her weapon to get the desired overlap. The bridge counter ran through the seconds before impact, and when it reached zero a bright flash appeared on the surface of the planet, followed by a rising mushroom cloud. A few moments later Grampus fired her first weapon.
Afterwards there would be conflicting reports as to what happened. What Gerasi remembered, a memory that was later borne out by video, was a too bright beam of light that struck t
he second projectile and burned it from the sky. That beam then swung in to contact Cachalot. The hull of the battleship threw out sparks of molten metal as the beam swung through the vessel, cutting it into two unequal pieces. Gas, liquid and debris, including hundreds of bodies not protected by suits, flew into space from those pieces. Many of the bodies flared into ash as the beam continued to strike the ship. It then moved on and struck Grampus in the same manner, cutting the ship in two and moving back to complete the job. Within seconds all that was left were seven large sections of two warships, surrounded by their own debris field.
Fortunately none of the antimatter containment vessels aboard the ships had been ruptured. How long that state of affairs would last the Admiral didn’t know. “Where did that come from?” he yelled at his Tactical Officer, while he tried to figure out the right move to save his fleet.
“From that large pyramid structure on the horizon,” called back the white faced officer, his hands trembling as he manipulated his controls.
The structure appeared on the screen, reminding the Admiral of the ones on the planets of his nation. It would of course be made of the same superstrong materials, but the ones he was familiar with were not armed with super powerful light amp weapons that could destroy a warship with one blast. Unless they do have those weapons, but have never had reason to fire them within our history, thought the Admiral, staring at the structure.
“It opened fire seconds after the first of the big kinetics hit,” said the officer, looking at his screens while his fingers flew over his board. He looked back at the Admiral with wide eyes. “I think it’s a planetary defense installation, and it didn’t like us hitting the surface like that.”
“That may be true,” said the Admiral, making up his mind. “Com. Get all ships on the link. Emergency boost to lower orbit. I want the planet between us and that thing.”
To Well And Back (The Deep Dark Well) Page 11