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“Report!” Eulenburg demanded as he hurried into Four C. The raucous alarm cut out as he crossed the command centre’s threshold and the computer detected his arrival.
“An enemy fleet just made real space re-entry twenty thousand kilometres beyond the Blue Line,” the duty officer answered promptly.
“Do we have a composition yet?” Eulenburg asked as he tried to get his earpiece into place while he made his way to the command booth.
“Exact composition no. Right now I can tell you that there are seventy-five ships on approach. Twenty of those are escorts. Beyond that the computer’s working on it.”
Eulenburg was on the steps when the officer replied. Seventy-five! He nearly tripped over. It was definitely no feint this time.
“Time?” he asked quietly when he reached the booth.
“On their current track and acceleration… six and a half hours until they achieve orbit. A second detachment, seven ships, is heading for the moon. Looks like we’re going to lose our lunar tracking station.”
“Yes. Send it the command codes to detonate its reactor if any enemy vessel closes to within five-thousand kilometres.”
There wasn’t much left of Landfall’s pre-war detection grid. Some of the satellites had got too close to the Nameless’s jammers and their trigger-happy escorts. Others had burned through their propellant while shifting orbit around those same escorts, forcing Eulenburg to order them to be de-orbited, rather than leave technology floating around to be picked up. The lunar tracking station was the best of what was left but soon it was going to be just the newest crater on Landfall’s moon.
While it remained however, it helped give Eulenburg a force composition. Twenty escorts in the vanguard and on the flanks, followed by eight cruisers, three capital ships, two bombards, thirty-nine transports and two unknowns. The composition certainly cleared up the questions regarding the Nameless’s intentions. It was about the only thing that was clear.
“Governor Reynolds, I want you to understand that this discussion is going to be of primarily a military nature. Your lack of a military background limits how much you can seriously contribute to the discussion. Therefore you are being invited into these discussions as an observer and witness.” Eulenburg addressed Reynolds in an uncompromising tone as the two of them walked towards the communications suite. “Given that the time is limited, I want to keep this meeting as short as possible, so I expect contributions from you to be kept to a minimum.”
“I’m not sure I like your tone Admiral.” Reynolds snapped back.
“It is not my intention to be offensive Governor, but equally I do not wish there to be any possible room for misunderstanding.”
“I would imagine the American and Chinese Governors aren’t being told to keep quiet by their military heads,” Reynolds replied coldly.
I must remember at some point to offer Xiaochuan and Arlidge my sympathy on that point, Eulenburg thought to himself before making a carefully diplomatic reply.
“Those bases are the sovereign property of the USA and China. Their commanders operate on a chain of command that goes back to their governments on Earth, through their respective governors. This base is a Battle Fleet installation Governor, meaning that those same conditions do not hold sway here.”
The Governor visibly huffed and Eulenburg decided to say no more.
The connection to the other shelters had been made and Xiaochuan and Arlidge were already waiting, as were Yuen Ziyi and Oscar Barton, the Chinese and American Governors. Modern hologram technology was so good that usually it was difficult to distinguish between those actually there and those whose presence was merely electronic. Not this time though. The signals from Anshan and Endeavour were now being transmitted via lasers through their few surviving communication satellites. This was a torturous method that avoided interference from the jammers but introduced plenty of signal degradation of its own. The image of the two Chinese was intermittently broken by black and white interference lines, while the Americans seemed to be having definite signal lag problems.
“I think this is likely to be the last time we communicate like this for a while,” Arlidge said as Eulenburg and Reynolds took their seats.
“That is the truth,” Xiaochuan replied, “although its loss does not greatly worry me. I have a great many things to worry about so I cannot afford to waste my worrying time on the trivial and the unavoidable.”
Eulenburg and Arlidge both smiled at the truth of his statement.
“Yes, yes, can we please get to the matter at hand? We have an Armada bearing down on us and not much time,” snapped the American Governor, Barton. He wasn’t panicking, yet, but was clearly very anxious.
“Of course Governor Barton,” Eulenburg replied diplomatically before turning to his military opposites. “Gentlemen, if I may ask frankly, how ready are your defences?”
“As strong as we can make them, which isn’t anywhere near as strong as I’d like,” Arlidge replied.
“The same could be said here,” Xiaochuan added.
“Wherever they land, we’re going to give them a hell of a fight,” Arlidge said thumping the table at his end for emphasis.
“Unquestionably true General, but regrettably ‘hell of a fight’ is not the same as stopping them.”
“What are you saying General?” Barton demanded. “That the Nameless are going to roll over us!”
Arlidge gave his civilian superior a cool look. Perhaps now only nominal superior Eulenburg thought to himself. There might well be hell to pay down the line if it were judged the military had overstepped the mark but that was a concern for another day.
“I believe, as we agreed some time ago, that we cannot allow the scenario to develop in which the Nameless throw their weight against one shelter at a time,” Arlidge said after a moment.
“Yes, we must draw the Nameless into fighting all three of us at once,” Xiaochuan agreed. “I have aircraft that can reach Douglas Base but nothing that can reach Endeavour without airborne refuelling, which isn’t going to be possible once we come under close siege.”
“Likewise,” Arlidge said with a nod.
“While I can reach targets around both of you. I will provide support where I can to both of you,” Eulenburg said, although he wondered once they were down to burst transmissions whether their agreement would be worth anything.
“Can we not stop them from landing?” Barton asked. Despite the interference, Eulenburg could see that the Governor knew what the answer was going to be but was desperately hoping to be wrong.
“We have about forty space fighters between us,” Xiaochuan said. “They have over seventy starships. However despite that, I believe we have to commit the fighters.”
“You want to contest orbit?” Eulenburg said dubiously.
“No. There is no serious prospect of holding them outside orbit,” Xiaochuan said with a serious shake of the head. “I speak of bleeding them by targeting their transports.”
“If we throw all our fighters in there, there ain’t going to be a hell of a lot of our fighter complement left afterwards,” Arlidge objected.
“The fighters are there to be used and, yes, lost,” Xiaochuan replied seriously. “The cargo and troops on those support ships are undoubtedly destined for use against us. A single missile can destroy as many of them in orbit as dozens of atmospheric sorties that would be needed to achieve the same results on the ground.”
There was an undoubted truth in that statement, a brutal truth though, Eulenburg thought to himself. Arlidge was also right. Putting so few fighters against so many opponents wouldn’t leave much, especially with the survivors spread across three different sites.
“Besides, space fighters are lumbering vessels in atmosphere. I have my doubts that we will be able to get them up once we come under close siege,” the Chinese General added.
With the interference to their communications it was hard for Arlidge and Eulenburg to exchange
a look but they gave it a good try. Meanwhile Xiaochuan sat looking like the personification of calm.
Eulenburg looked over his shoulder through the door into Four C’s main chamber to the main holo. The cluster of red icons was still making its slow approach, currently about four hours out.
“The decision ultimately rests with you Admiral,” Xiaochuan said, breaking the temporary silence. “You command approximately half the fighters on the planet and have primary access to the detection grid. No strike can go in without your support.”
Eulenburg looked back again into Four C and the main display. Could they make enough of a difference to justify losses that were guaranteed to be punishing? But then could they afford to huddle inside their perimeter and surrender the initiative?
“We’ll put in the strike,” he said turning back to them. “We’ll go in when they start making their landing.”
Xiaochuan and Arlidge both nodded their agreement.
“We shall prepare our forces and await word from you,” Xiaochuan said.
“General,” there was a note of warning in Barton’s voice.
“My government has issued instructions that operational control of our military assets will only be given when those units operate outside planetary atmosphere.” His tone was almost apologetic. “While operating in atmosphere they are to remain under my direct operational control.”
“Of course,” Eulenburg replied. “I understand.”
“There’s one last thing,” Reynolds said. “Can we inform Earth?”
“The jammers, Governor, they are still in place,” Eulenburg answered. “We have no means to get a message to them.”
“That’s not quite true,” Arlidge said. “I still have one message drone in orbit that I can ping with a laser. But it’s my last one.”
“Is it worth expending I wonder?” Xiaochuan pondered.
“Luck of the draw has put it between two of their jammers.” Arlidge shook his head. “I can’t guarantee it staying intact though. Not if we have starships wandering around up there.”
“Of course,” Eulenburg said before adding. “It might be as well to use it.”
“That is a decision that will be made here,” Barton replied in a prickly voice.
“Of course Governor. The drone is the property of the United States of America,” Eulenburg replied in a placating tone. “However it is also the last contact with Earth. With your permission I would like to append my own report, so that if you decide to launch, I can update my superiors.”
“By all means Admiral,” Arlidge replied before the Governor could reply. “We’ll also extend the same courtesy to the Chinese administration. Any remaining space in the drone’s memory will be divided equally among the other national contingents.”
“Thank you General. Your offer is a generous one. If there is nothing else gentlemen, we have a battle to prepare for.”
“Indeed we do,” Arlidge gave a brief smile. “I look forward to meeting you all in the flesh when we celebrate the fleet’s lifting of the siege,” he added before signing off.
Hurry up and wait. It was a cliché of military service but only because it was true. For over three hour Eulenburg waited in Four C, watching the Nameless ships slowly approach. He knew that at some pointed he had eaten but for the life of him he couldn’t remember what.
Forty-one space fighters were now armed and ready on the runway, waiting for the Nameless to achieve orbit and start making their drop. Douglas’s atmospheric and drop fighters were already airborne, ready to escort their space fighter colleagues up to the edge of space.
“Looks like they’ve learned respect for our ground missiles anyway,” Captain Gillum observed. “That’s a strong defensive formation, sir. We could support the fighters with fire from the missile batteries.” The Nameless fleet was staying close to the equator and someone or something had given a lot of thought to creating a formation that gave multiple overlapping fields of fire.
“No,” Eulenburg replied without taking his eyes off the display. “If we use up the missiles we might have nothing to throw at those bombards of theirs if they make another run at us.”
Gillum hesitated, “Sir, we have projections on fighter losses. Do you want to see them?”
“Forty to sixty percent?”
“The projections sir, are saying fifty to sixty-five.”
“It makes no difference,” Eulenburg replied with a sigh. “We have to do it.”
“Admiral,” called out one of the junior officers at the sky watch consoles, “the transports are starting to open their outer hatches.”
“Thank you sensors. Coms, inform Endeavour and Anshan that we are commencing launch of the space fighters. Captain, get our birds up.”
“Yes sir,” Gillum replied.
Within a few minutes four icons appeared on the main display. On the far side of the planet from the Nameless fleet they merged into a single formation and started to accelerate. The Nameless transports were launching drop ships now, scores of them. On the display they resembled spores, like some terrible fungus dropping towards the planet. The fighters rounded Landfall and the two sets of combatants caught sight of one another. More icons appeared as the Nameless warships started to fire. The fighter formations loosened as each crew worked to find room for evasive manoeuvres. From the coms section Eulenburg could hear radio chatter. He was too far away to make out individual words, only their tone. As the Nameless missiles reached the fighters the voices became higher pitched as some chopped off with horrible suddenness, joined by the screams of those for whom death wasn’t to be so clean.
As Eulenburg watched impotently while the battle raged above, he understood why some officers saw space fighters as a slightly unclean way to fight. An admiral commanding a fleet of starships would probably be on the best ship, positioned in the heart of the formation, but still took his or her chances along with everyone else. With fighters though, the commander stayed safe while young men and women were thrown into harm’s way.
There was a lot of interference now on the plot due to chaff, missiles and wreckage. There was no way to determine how many fighters remained but whatever was left continued to charge. As the range dropped it was now the turn of the human fighters to launch their capital ship missiles. The Nameless switched from attacker to defender as they salvoed out dozens of dual-purpose missiles to intercept the incoming projectiles. Most of the fighter’s cap ship missiles were stopped well short but a few got through. One transport broke in half as a pair of missiles took it amidships. Two escorts haemorrhaged atmosphere as holes were punched into their hulls.
The Nameless might have expected the fighters to break off at this point but they charged on, in amongst the lumbering drop ships. With guns and anti-fighter missiles, they ripped into their targets. Mixed as the alien and human vessels were, the drop ships served as both targets and shields for the fighters. Dozens of drop ships were blown apart or riddled with gunfire. A few, in their desperation to escape their killers, lost control and tumbled helplessly into Landfall’s atmosphere. As fighters exhausted their ammunition they dropped back down into the atmosphere continuing to use the drop ships as cover.
“Admiral,” shouted someone at sky watch, “the two Nameless starships we couldn’t classify are launching vessels.”
“More drop ships?” Eulenburg replied.
“Negative sir, they’re smaller than the drop ships.”
Gillum examined the data on his own display before turning to Eulenburg.
“Admiral, the configuration is… I think they’re drop fighters!”
That’s a problem, Eulenburg thought.
“Some of them are going after the fighters that have already gone atmospheric,” Gillum continued, “if they…”
“I know Captain!” Eulenburg snapped back.
A drop fighter, at least in human service, was something of a hybrid of a space fighter and atmospheric fighter. Designed primarily for use inside a planetary environment, a drop fight
er had at best a limited ability to operate and fight in space. They weren’t much of a match for a space fighter in its natural environment, but once they both dropped back into atmosphere, the tables would be turned.
“Can our fighters engage?”
“Eighty percent of them sir, are reporting ammunition expended.”
Between a rock and a hard place. The Nameless were continuing to show the same brutal willingness to accept casualties that had already nearly won the war for them. Their first wave of ground forces had taken a terrible beating but now, if the human fighters stayed among the descending drop ships, while they’d be safe from the Nameless starships, they’d be sitting ducks for the Drop Fighters and thousands of kilometres from the protection of the friendly atmospheric fighters circling over the shelters. Few if any of them would survive.
“Order the fighters to break off. They’ll have to make re-entry directly into our fighter umbrella,” Eulenburg ordered before turning to watch the display. His face was grim as the fighters once again ran the gauntlet of missiles from the Nameless warships. Following in their wake came the enemy fighters, like hyenas tracking wounded prey. Behind them drop ships continued to descend towards the planet surface.
“How many?” Chevalier asked in a whispery voice.
“We shot down maybe eight percent, at absolute most,” Eulenburg replied wearily. “Not enough though. That much’s certain.”
“We were never going to stop them from making a landing.” the Brigadier paused for a laboured breath. “We didn’t have the assets to put in their way.”
The Landfall Campaign (The Nameless War) Page 23