The Landfall Campaign (The Nameless War)

by Edmond Barrett

  “Sir, we’re on the retreat again, aren’t we?” said Alanna. She blinked tiredly. “I’m sorry, sir, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “No, you shouldn’t but yes Lieutenant, we’re going to be retreating as soon as they agree we have no other choice. And we don’t. All our stores, fuel, everything we need, all gone. We either retreat or we find ourselves drifting.”

  “The only place we can retreat to is Earth.”

  “I know. Lieutenant, you are dismissed.”

  Epilogue

  27th October 2067

  Alice scrambled further up the slope before turning and looking back at the caves. In the evening light she could make out a thin trickle of smoke slipping from the cave mouth but no light. It would be enough for the night as long as nothing with thermal imaging looked too hard in their direction. There weren’t signs to suggest any of the earlier parties out of Douglas had come this way. They’d been following perhaps a few days behind another party for nearly a week. They must have turned off though because there had been no sign of them for days.

  These caves might even be secure enough to stop for a few days, allow blisters and muscles to heal, and just have a chance to rest. Alice allowed herself to entertain the thought before rejecting it. Better a moving target than a sitting duck. If anyone complained she would remind them of the campsite they’d come across. That was the one where two other parties had gathered together after finding what they must have thought was a safe hidey-hole. In doing so however they made themselves a nice fat target and when the Nameless came at them from all sides, not one of them had escaped. All Alice’s group could do was salvage what they could and clear the area as fast as possible.

  Maybe someday they’d find somewhere secure enough to stop. Maybe the fleet would arrive and tell them they didn’t have to run anymore. Maybe someday the Nameless would believe their job was done and like they had done with the Centaurs’ world, leave. Alice paused at the entrance to the first of the caves, where blankets and leafy branches blocked the light from the fire within and looked up at the stars that were starting to appear in the darkening sky. Maybe some day it would rain cheese. No, there was no point in thinking about any future beyond surviving the day. Alice turned and entered the cave.

  _____________________

  On Alanna’s radar screen three blips disappeared.

  “Vicksburg and her close escort have jumped away,” Schurenhofer reported. “Signal from Deimos. We’re to start falling back and prepare for combat docking.”

  “Understood,” Alanna replied as she guided Dubious in. The four Nameless cruisers that had intercepted them were strong enough to force a hurried redeployment, but not enough to saturate their way through Deimos’s counter fire. Still no sense in tempting fate and all the fighters in the group were closing on their respective base ships.

  “Looks like we’re out of here,” Schurenhofer said. “Not sure we achieved much.”

  Alanna made no reply. With Deimos going full burn and pouring fire back at the pursuing ships the landing was going to be tricky. They could have made an in system jump with their own drive but it looked like the Commodore had decided that this system was now too hot.

  Dubious almost bounced off the deck before the magnetic grapple caught her and pulled her down. As the hanger hatch closed over them, Alanna saw the brief flash as they jumped away. By the time she and Schurenhofer closed Dubious down and got out, the cruiser was settled down into jump stations. Alanna updated her logbook and then headed for her bunk. In the officers’ quarters she nearly walked straight into the Commodore.

  “I’m sorry sir.”

  “That’s alright Lieutenant.” Crowe looked nearly as tired as she felt, “That was a good landing.”

  “Thank you sir,” she replied stepping aside. “May I ask where next sir?” she added as he passed.

  The Commodore stopped and seemed to have to think about it.

  “The next system up the line. We have enough fuel and ammunition to contest one more system, then…” Crowe shrugged.

  “Then back to Earth sir?”

  “There isn’t anywhere else to go.”

  ____________________

  The commissioning party was still going strong up in the station’s centrifuge but down in the viewing gallery, Willis felt no reason to return. A few of the journalists might still be looking for her but ‘the hero of Dryad’ as the press was calling her, could rely on Guinness and the rest of the officers she’d managed to hang onto to run interference. That had been humbling, how many of them had wanted to stay with her. Hood’s final battle had seen a third of the little cruiser’s crew killed outright and once those who had been seriously wounded were taken into account, slightly more than one in three of them came out of the battle in one piece and alive. In the following days the bodies of the dead were transported down to the surface of Dryad and there buried in the dusty grey soil they had given their lives to defend. In her mind’s eye, Willis could still clearly see the lines of personnel saluting as one by one the coffins were lowered, while beyond them miners and colonists watched from a respectful distance.

  Once the funerals were completed there only remained the wait for a personnel transport to return them to Earth, a wait that stretched into weeks and left too much time to brood. Yet when finally it came and they at last reached Earth, she found herself wishing she could go back. Earth was desperate for a victory, any victory, and the fleet was just as desperate to give them one. Medals and honours were showered on all of them and, as her new captain’s uniform attested, most particularly on her. But it felt like a soiled prize and left Willis desperate to get away from both the journalists that hounded her and the fleet’s publicity personnel that wanted to put her in front of them.

  From beside her there came the clink-clink sound of a pair of boot magnets locking onto the deck. Willis half turned and groaned inwardly as she caught sight of the press badge.

  “Oh don’t mind me,” the journalist said. “I just want to get my bearings in this place.” He peered out through the view port. Beyond a dozen major starships were visible at the fitting out slips. Badly damaged ships were enclosed within sealed docks so in many respects there was almost nothing to indicate that this was a fleet at war.

  “Where do you want to go?” Willis eventually asked as the journalist continued to look out and around.

  He checked his computer pad. “Slipway B3 apparently.”

  “Then you’re on the wrong side of the station.”

  “Of course I am,” he replied with disgust.” before looking at her. “Hey, aren’t you Commander Willis?” He looked down at the sleeve of her uniform. “Oh sorry, Captain Willis.”

  “Yes, but you are going to have to speak to the press off…”

  “Oh don’t worry Captain,” he waved a dismissive hand. “I’m off duty. I’m Jeff Harlow - you might have seen some of my news reports from the Junction Line?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Sorry, we didn’t really get much in the way of news reports at Dryad.”

  “Ah, bit of a backwater.”

  Willis turned sharply toward him.

  “Sorry, sorry. I should have said what was supposed to be a backwater.”

  “Yes, that was what it was supposed to be,” she replied turning back to the view port.

  “It didn’t work out that way. Amazing how often that seems to happen.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Did a bit of embedded work on a scout. I’ve heard they got back today from Junction and I just want to check they’re okay. Yeah, yeah,” he added in reply to her unanswered question, “I know I’m a journalist and therefore a lying bastard but some times we’re human and they were a good crowd. How about yourself?”

  Willis pointed. “See that ship? Third one from the left, Black Prince, she’s mine now.”

  Jeff peered at the distant cruiser. “She looks very nice.” When Willis gave him a look, he added defensively: “sorry but they still all kind
of look the same to me.”

  “Well, today this one has been formally commissioned, the crew is aboard and tomorrow we start working her up.”

  “Chock full of new technology to take the fight to the Nameless?”

  “Not really. She’s smaller and less capable than the vessels she’s replacing. Although still better than the old Hood,” Willis replied with a shrug.

  Jeff hesitated before replying: “the Nameless are going to be here in a few weeks at most. Everyone’s saying it. Are you going to be ready?”

  Willis made no reply other than to shrug.

  “The military has a funny idea of how to reward someone for not getting their ass shot off. They give them another chance.”

  “I suppose you’ll be able to cover the next fight from Earth.”

  “Tempting. I might take up on the offers from management…” Jeff trailed off. “Well probably not. I’m trying for a position on a ship of the Home Fleet. Maybe I’ll end up on your ship Captain.”

  Willis looked dubious.

  “I need to get back to my ship. I have a lot to do.”

  “Of course,” Jeff replied with a nod. “Good luck with the new ship Captain.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, “and good luck finding your friends.”

  Jeff watched the young captain leave, then pulled out his computer pad and opened a file. A collection of notes and jottings he’d never submitted to the network, which might someday be the basis of a book.

  In my time as a war correspondent, I have seen men and women crumble under the strain, or place their own interests above all others but they are the exceptions. In my time with the fleet what I have mostly witnessed are people willing to take on each new burden with weary acceptance. I will never really understand it because I will never really be one of them, but it is that willingness that I believe will save us.

  Definitely a touch pompous, Jeff thought to himself as he examined the line, but perhaps right all the same. He saved the file and headed off in what he hoped was the right direction for slipway B3.

  ____________________

  The glow from the main holo bathed the Council Chamber in a soft red light. The expressions on the faces of the men and women seated around the table were universally grim. On the display, the dot signifying Junction Station was slowly blinking on and off and below it a red line bulged towards the blue dot representing Earth.

  “Quite simply, like the rifle missiles at Landfall, we had no warning that the Nameless had developed fighters. They are adapting and we aren’t keeping up. With the destruction of Junction Station the Nameless have been able to penetrate deep into what were our rear areas and are once again on the move towards Earth,” Admiral Wingate said. “As you can see a salient has effectively been opened. Our forces at Rosa and Hydra Stations have attempted to close this but the Nameless have deployed enough units on their flanks to hold our ships back.”

  “Can we re-establish the line or establish a new line?” President Clifton asked.

  “No on both counts. Junction Station is destroyed and we can’t build another while actively under fire. Establishing a second line would be futile. The Junction Line worked because while their combat units could jump past it, the support infrastructure required by their warships could be attacked and destroyed by our units on the Line. Without enough depth to our position, the Nameless would simply jump their combat units to Earth and keep their support elements far enough back to be safe.”

  “So what does this mean in practical terms?” Clifton replied.

  “It means,” said Admiral Lewis, “that they are being methodical this time. They aren’t trying a quick blitz towards us. Unfortunately they’ve learned. This time they’re planning a sustained, fully supported advance. We have some units mounting attacks on their supply lines but this is only a delaying tactic. Those vessels will soon have to be called back to Earth. We won’t be able to bring them up short. To attempt that will simply result in our ships not being where they can achieve something. The Nameless are going to reach Earth this time. When they do there isn’t going to be a soft underbelly for us to strike at. This time, it will be our strength matched squarely against theirs.”

  “Do you believe we can win such a clash Admiral,” the British Prime Minister Michael Layland asked quietly.

  “It is win or become extinct, sir,” Lewis replied.

  “And Landfall?” Layland asked. “What of Landfall?”

  _____________________

  Four C was now almost completely deserted. Just a few last individuals remained, most of them going through the motions. The personnel who had run the command centre had one at a time been sent down through the backdoor, each leading a party of civilians. Admiral Eulenburg sat at the desk he’d had set up in the middle of Four C, so he could see the work stations that no longer had anyone to operate them. On the plateau the Nameless reigned almost completely supreme. Only the small parcel of land around the missile launchers remained in human hands. The Nameless had broken into the upper galleries, which now echoed with gunfire. With victory in sight they were pressing every advantage now, regardless of the casualties.

  Chevalier came in to Four C with Reynolds. His expression grim and her eyes red and puffy.

  “Brigadier, Governor.”

  Chevalier set down a reading pad on the desk, “Sir, it’s a report from the scouts.”

  “They’ve found the back door.”

  “Not quite, but they’ve identified the rough area its in. The scouts report they’ve set up a perimeter. It’s not very strong but it doesn’t have to be.”

  “I see.” He’d known this day was coming and now that it had arrived, Eulenburg felt hollow inside. The back door had done far, far better than he had dared hope. Very nearly two thirds of the one point four million people sheltering in Douglas had poured out through it and on into the wilderness. Some, in all probability many, had been caught in the open and butchered. But more, most he hoped, had got clear. Now instead of one big target, the Nameless had hundreds of small ones to deal with.

  “Do you believe the point we spoke about has been reached?” he asked.

  “Yes sir, I do,” Chevalier replied.

  “Governor Reynolds. Do you have anything to say?”

  “Is there anything we could do? Even a few more days would save thousands,” she begged.

  “I don’t believe so. We lost the upper magazine a few hours ago. Small arms ammunition will be gone within two days. The end has been reached.”

  Reynolds wiped her eyes and nodded.

  “Governor, you know my offer.”

  When he’d first made it, she angrily refused, but now there was hesitation. Some of the governors had used their positions to get themselves onto early parties out of Douglas. Most though had sent their own families away but grimly remained at their posts.

  “There isn’t anything more you can do, but the decision is yours. You have an hour.”

  Reynolds started to reply, but then let out a sob, turned and ran from Four C. The two officers watched her go without comment. Eulenburg turned and slowly walked up the steps to the command platform.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced. There were less than ten people left in Four C and they all turned to listen. He paused, wondering whether he should say some last words that might be remembered by history. No that was for triumph not for this.

  “You are all relieved of duty. Goodbye and good luck to you all.”

  There was a ragged salute then one by one they left in silence and soon only Eulenburg and Chevalier were left. The two friends stood awkwardly for a moment, then the Brigadier offered his maimed hand.

  “At least we’ll make them pay, sir,” he said as they shook. “I’ll go make the arrangements.”

  “Will you be coming back here?”

  “No. No, I intend to get up to the missiles if I can. See the sky.”

  “Then we’ll see each other on the other side. Goodbye Sebastian.”

&nb
sp; Eulenburg sat alone in Four C waiting for the appointed time. An hour after Chevalier left his watch beeped. Eulenburg climbed to his feet and at the main hatch into Four C, he paused and looked back at the empty chamber. When the Nameless took the planet of the Centaurs, they had herded millions of sentient beings into camps, to be methodically murdered. Eulenburg had decided he would spare those who couldn’t escape from that fate and in doing so, strike back one last time. Right now above him, the troops who had grimly contested every square centimetre of ground were falling back. Most didn’t know why but the Nameless would be pouring troops into this apparent breach, rushing into the heart of Douglas.

  Eulenburg stopped at an even more strongly built hatch than the one into Four C. He entered his code and put his eye to the scanner. The hatch ground open to reveal the great fusion reactor that was at the heart of Douglas. Demolition charges had been fixed to the reactor’s inner casing. The officers tasked with performing this had then immediately been sent away before they could tell anyone. A last few thousand made up of a battalion of troops and the final selection of civilians, which if they decided to go would include the last of the governors, would by now be heading for the back door. They would hopefully ride out the explosion that would gut Douglas, killing instantly and painlessly everyone left behind - and those who would have killed them.

  Eulenburg picked up the detonator switch and checked the command line. He then ran the reactor up to one hundred percent power and checked his watch. The time had come.

  He picked up the detonator and rested his thumb on the button.

  “From hell’s heart,” he murmured and pushed down.

  THE END

  “We did not seek this conflict and everything we have learned of the Nameless has told us one thing. There was no way by which we might have avoided this ordeal; had we gone down upon bended knee and begged them to allow us to live in peace, not one shred of mercy would have been shown. From the moment they first became aware of us, the Nameless have desired only to wipe our species from the universe. Our race now stands on the edge of destruction but we have been granted one last chance to step back from oblivion. On our journey to this time, this place, we have left behind comrades and friends. We have known few victories and many defeats. In a few moments we will begin humanity’s last charge and I wish for you all to understand, that once this begins, there will be no retreat, no surrender, not one step back will be taken. If we are to return to our homes and families, it can only be as victors.”