“I see,” Fernandez said thoughtfully. When the Council learned that Burgton had his own personal navy, the explosion would be heard from Kalmar to Northcliff… unless they already knew and approved? “I see indeed. Grafton may come ahead, General. Victorious out.”
Burgton nodded and the screen cleared to show Grafton manoeuvring clear of her escort.
“Keep an eye on those destroyers, XO.”
Hanson nodded, but then looked up immediately. “Swordfish and Hammer are moving, Skipper. They’re going for jump.”
Fernandez nodded as the destroyers jumped outsystem. “Get me the Admiral.”
* * *
Aboard Grafton, at station keeping, NGC 1513-4964
“All stop confirmed, General. Your shuttle is ready,” Stone said from his position at the helm.
“Thank you, Ken. Eric, you have the con.”
“Yes, sir, I have the con,” Penleigh said, leaving his place at communications to take the command station.
Burgton stepped into the lift followed by Colonel Flowers, Major Faggini, and Lieutenant Hymas. He had chosen the three to accompany him for various reasons. Dan Flowers was always with him, and had been since the beginning. Erica Faggini was officially CO of First Battalion; she would gain a valuable insight into the mission by converse with Admiral Meyers. Marion Hymas was along to listen. Burgton valued her advice, and she was a qualified shrink. If anyone knew what was going on in another’s head, it was Marion. Knowing the opposition was always a good thing.
They made their way through Grafton’s meticulously neat, though worn, corridors to the portside lock. Grafton was ancient, as ancient as Burgton felt sometimes. She had two small shuttles that rarely saw use in these days. The other pair of shuttles that had once resided on Grafton’s hull, were now used to ferry personnel to and from Uriel.
Burgton found an empty seat in the shuttle’s cabin and strapped in. “Who wants to drive?”
“My turn,” Hymas said, and took the pilot’s position.
He smiled at her eagerness. Whether it be a tank or a shuttle, she always liked taking the controls. Flowers took the co-pilot’s position by her side.
“What do we know of this Meyers? Have you met her?” Faggini said, as she strapped in.
Burgton shook his head. “I don’t know her, but I know of her. Paul Rawlins mentioned her once… hmmm, it was about twelve years ago as I recall. She wasn’t an admiral then of course.”
“Captain?”
“No, a commodore I believe. It was just after that business on Flotsam. Paul had a few things to say about Ken making too big a bang in that system… or some such thing.” Burgton shrugged. “I really don’t care what it was about. We cleared the scum out for a few years anyway.”
Faggini grinned. “Ken does have a way of doing that, but you know they always come back. They’re like weeds. Pull them up, and another batch grow next year.”
“And I’ll pull them up again,” he said grimly, remembering all the times he had sent his people to do just that—quite often on missions that duplicated earlier ones down to the letter. “It’s getting worse you know.”
“What? Worse did you say? It’s always been like this.”
The shuttle undocked and accelerated toward Victorious. Burgton took no notice of being pushed deeper into his couch. He was too busy studying the figures he had instructed his processor to display. They made grim reading.
“I said it’s always been like this,” Faggini said again when Burgton failed to answer.
“Sorry, I was just going over some things. The Alliance is heading for a fall; a big one. Within twenty years we’ll have a breakaway—probably led by Bethany.”
“You know what I think about that, George. It won’t happen, especially not with this Merki attack.”
Burgton pursed his lips and considered. Finally he gave a sharp nod. “Perhaps you’re right, I hope so. I told Paul they would be back in five years, and I would have stood by that, but here we are off to war before we’re ready. Look at the figures. We’ve had more missions in the last fifty years than in the entire time preceding that—not including the war of course. It’s getting worse. Raider ships are no longer patched together junk. They have heavy cruisers now. A century ago, they threatened cargo, now they threaten entire colonies. Back then a single cruiser outgunned them, and easily took them out. Now the navy uses task forces, and they don’t always win.”
Faggini sighed. “I know, I know, but you realise what you’re saying?”
“Of course I do,” Burgton said grimly. “Without the Merki, we would be constantly at war with ourselves.” He accessed a view from the shuttle’s forward sensors, and watched as they slowed for docking. Victorious’ armoured hide swung into view with her gun ports sealed giving only a hint of the destructive capacity they contained. “What would happen if Bethany and say… Alizon broke away? How many naval vessels are crewed by patriotic men and women? Men and women who still think in the old way, men and women willing to desert the Alliance to go to the aid of their home worlds?”
A crease of worry appeared upon Faggini’s brow marring her flawless face. “Ties like that are strong, George, but navy crews are too diverse. Ships are never crewed exclusively from Bethany, or any other world for that matter.”
“That won’t stop it. Our history is rife with wars. The Merkiaari are an outlet for our baser instincts… a reason not to kill each other if you will, but memories are short.”
“Not ours.”
“No, not ours, but the unenhanced don’t know them like we know them. They live for the present, and only see what’s in their short term interest. Even the Council has been guilty of it. I’ve been trying to convince them to build more of us for years now. I’ve tried to make them see, but they will not. We need a dozen or more viper regiments, not one.”
“I don’t know that even a dozen would be enough to destroy the Merkiaari utterly, George, and from what you say, we shouldn’t try. Their threat holds the Alliance together.”
Burgton nodded, but he was troubled. Hearing his own words used to defend the Merkiaari, to actually prevent their destruction, went against everything he was built to achieve. His purpose was to seek and destroy them, yet if he did by some miracle manage to kill them all, he would be sowing the seeds of the Alliance’s own destruction… or at least its fragmentation.
“The Council are afraid of me… of us,” he said with a wry smile. “They will never build another regiment, and perhaps that’s for the best considering how paranoid some of them are. As long as the Merkiaari remain a threat, we are strong.”
“As long as that’s all they are,” Faggini warned. “I have to tell you, George, I’m damn worried. We have six hundred and forty units here, and none of them have been battle tested. They say we’re going up against a few divisions and a light cruiser squadron, which I might add, will give Admiral Meyers a run for her money. What if they’re wrong? What if they’ve been reinforced? What if—”
“We can play what if all day. We’ll know soon enough.”
Docking commenced and Burgton made ready to put on his show. He was the hero of Garnet, of Thorfinni… and of San Luis. He was the big bad Merkiaari killer. Was there anything left of the young Human officer he had been at the beginning of the war? After a moment’s thought, he decided there wasn’t. He was the man that personally oversaw the utter annihilation of an entire world. It was a world of Merkiaari, but still a world.
He closed his eyes as his processor dragged up the well accessed memory file of San Luis. He saw himself standing among the dead, with rivers of blood running down the street and flowing thickly into the drains. The sky was the colour of ash and the noise… he still heard it all these years later. The roaring of the fires, and the crashing of the buildings succumbing to them. They had been badly weakened by the regiment’s assault, and the bombing before that. Above it all, he heard the screams of the aliens as they burned.
San Luis had been an object lesson to t
he Merkiaari; he had decided they needed one after what they did to Garnet and him. He had turned San Luis into a charnel house, a bonfire, a Merki’s vision of hell if they had such a thing. Oh yes, he had lit a fire on San Luis all right. He had thrown them on top, and stepped back to watch them burn. That was what the Alliance saw when they looked at him—a larger than life man in black uniform standing upon a mountain of Merki corpses. They wanted the hero, so that is what he gave them—always.
“George?” Faggini said, and the vision of San Luis slipped back into the mists of time to wait for his call. “It’s time.”
Burgton slapped his harness release and stood. Flowers preceded him to the lock with Faggini and Hymas following along behind. As he readied himself to put on his show, his thoughts turned to Admiral Meyers. Did she have any new data on the incursion? Canada’s report, out of date though it was, indicated that it was a small one—merely two Marauder class transports had been committed to it. A Marauder was nothing to sneer at under any circumstances, but this incursion was small in comparison to say… the Garnet incursion. A fleet of fifteen Marauders had hit that luckless world.
The Marauder class heavy transport was a huge ship on anyone’s scale. Its detachable landers could quickly transport Merki regiments, called fists by the Merkiaari, to any planetary surface within a target system. Each fist was composed of a thousand individuals, each heavily armed. There were typically a hundred such fists per transport ready to be awoken at the press of a button. Ten fists were classed as a division by the Alliance. No one knew what the Merkiaari called them. Two Marauder class transports meant twenty divisions. It was as simple as that. Two hundred thousand murderous aliens ready to be awoken at the touch of a button, two hundred thousand murderous fighting machines needed to die for the mission to be complete.
Could it be done?
He had some ideas, but a lot depended on the Merkiaari doing what he expected. He knew them of old. They could hardly be called original thinkers. They always reacted with massive force to any attack or defiance. That kind of mindless aggression could be channelled to their detriment if he was careful. Merki males tended to rely heavily on their gauss cannons, which operated in similar manner to an Alliance AAR. The females were different. They were more intelligent than the average male, and had proven it to him more than once by ruining his plans. They were physically larger than the males—much larger, and they liked to use a dizzying array of weaponry. No two were alike in their preferences. Being so large, they were dangerous whether they were armed or not. He preferred not of course, but his preferences rarely made a difference where Merkiaari were concerned.
Burgton knew what the mission would be. It was the same as it ever was—destroy Merkiaari wherever he found them. Vipers were created for that purpose, but it would take more than a single battalion to liberate the Shan worlds. Of that he had no doubt. Sutherland’s fighter wings were a godsend. Without them the mission would be untenable. A single unsupported battalion pitted against twenty divisions of Merkiaari? He shuddered inwardly. Enhanced or not, it would be a slaughter. He would not allow that to happen. The Alliance needed him and his men intact. He knew it beyond doubt or question. Admiral Rawlins knew it, and the President knew it.
His vipers were essential to the future of the Alliance. That being so, he had to make Admiral Meyers give him control of Sutherland, or at least control of her fighter wings. He needed to know that when he ordered an air strike, it would be forthcoming in timely fashion without the need to wade through red tape or smooth ruffled feathers.
The outer hatch cycled open, and Burgton stepped through it to board Victorious. “Permission to come aboard?”
A young ensign stood nervously at attention and greeted them. “Granted, sir. If you would follow me?”
Burgton smiled. Ah, to be that young again. “Lead on, Ensign.”
He followed the ensign to her captain who was waiting not far away.
Captain Fernandez stood at slightly over six feet in his regulation boots. His white navy shipsuit was as immaculate as one would expect from one of the Alliance’s best cruiser Skippers, and his handshake was unselfconscious. It was a relief. Many people were uncomfortable in the presence of what they called cyborgs. Burgton sometimes felt like staying at home and never venturing off planet because of it.
“May I introduce my officers?” Burgton asked, indicating those accompanying him. “Colonel Flowers, Major Faggini, and Lieutenant Hymas.”
“Welcome aboard,” Fernandez said.
“Call me Dan,” Flowers said and shook the offered hand.
“Erica,” Major Faggini said, also shaking the Captain’s hand. “You have a fine ship here. I would like a tour sometime… when you’re not so busy of course.”
“Call me Tomas won’t you? I would be honoured to escort you around her personally,” Fernandez said, and smiled widely. Anyone who praised his ship was good people as far as he was concerned. He shook Hymas’ hand and then turned back Burgton. “The Admiral asked me to escort you to her.”
Burgton nodded, expecting nothing else. “Of course. Lead on, Captain.”
After dismissing the wide-eyed Ensign, Fernandez indicated the way with a wave of his hand. “May I ask a question, General?”
“Go ahead. I don’t promise to answer.”
“It’s not that kind of question. You must get a lot of that kind.”
“You have no idea,” Burgton said, barely holding in a sigh. “What’s your question?”
“It regards our mission. I understand from conversations with the Admiral that you have only a single battalion with you. Can you really hope to liberate the system with so few?”
“You don’t believe in viper superiority and indestructibility then?” Burgton asked wryly, and Flowers snorted. “Haven’t you heard? We won the last war single-handed.”
Fernandez chuckled, but it was a strained sound. “This is my first mission against Merkiaari. None of us have fought them before. Only you and your men have ever faced them. Have you any advice for me?”
“Hit them hard and fast from concealment. Keep firing until your magazine runs dry or they’re all dead, whichever comes first. Give them time to organise and you’re dead—period.”
Flowers and Faggini nodded grimly, perhaps seeing battles of long ago. Burgton didn’t need to look back. He carried his defeats with him every day… and his dead.
“…land war. Concealment is hard to come by in space,” Fernandez said querulously. “How would you approach this mission?”
Burgton smiled. “That’s what we’re here to discuss. Admiral Meyers will handle any enemy ships in system, but if I was her, I would jump in right on top of them, and let them have everything at point blank.”
“You’re assuming a lot. What if we jump in and don’t find them where we expect—what then?”
Flowers shrugged. “Then we die.”
Burgton nodded. “Nothing is certain, Captain. All we can do is plan for the worst and hope for the best.”
“Not very comforting.”
“You’re in the wrong line of work for comfort, Captain,” Faggini said, smiling to take the sting out of her words. “You and your crew will do your best, as will we. It will just have to be enough.”
Burgton knew the truth of those words. When Merkiaari were involved, nothing but the best would suffice.
Fernandez stopped outside an unremarkable hatch. It was like any of a dozen others they had passed. He keyed the comm and asked admittance. The hatch slid aside to reveal a very young seeming Admiral’s aide.
“General Burgton and his officers to see the Admiral, Joshua,” Fernandez said.
“Yes, sir. She’s been expecting you.”
They entered and Admiral Meyers stood to greet her guests. “It’s good to finally meet you in person, General,” she said and shook Burgton’s hand. She had a firm grip. “And these are…?”
“Colonel Flowers, my aide and Regimental Exec,” Burgton said and quickly made up s
omething to cover Marion’s presence. “Lieutenant Hymas heads up Intel and coordinates data gathering. Major Faggini is officially CO of First Battalion, but Dan and I couldn’t keep away. We’ll try not to be a burden.”
Major Faggini snorted but said nothing.
Meyers raised an eyebrow at the byplay. “I’m pleased you came along then, General. I have a few questions about your part in the mission. I’m glad Admiral Rawlins saw fit to send you, but I still don’t like the odds.” She motioned to the hastily arranged seating. “Make yourselves comfortable.”
Burgton seated himself and accepted a cup of steaming coffee from Joshua. It was very hot and very strong, just the way he liked it. He drank a scolding mouthful ignoring the alert that flashed in the corner of his vision. His processor was like a mother hen sometimes. Caffeine wouldn’t kill him.
“My vipers’ part in this mission is simple in theory: Kill all Merkiaari in the target system. Wonderful coffee by the way.”
Joshua smiled briefly from the corner of the cabin where he sat in fascinated silence. Studying the legend, Burgton thought with an inward sigh. At least Joshua was discreet, unlike some he had met in his time.
“Theory rarely agrees with reality,” Meyers said dryly.
“Not a hundred percent,” Burgton agreed. “But in this case it’s close enough to serve. Assuming certain things come to pass, we will accomplish what we have been set to do. Firstly, we need to clarify what the mission is.”
“Obvious I should think,” Fernandez said, glancing at Meyers in surprise.
“Obvious?” Burgton mused. He placed his empty cup on Meyers’ desk. “Let us assume they haven’t been reinforced. Further, let us assume that you are successful in destroying the Merki ships—a big assumption. Now then, we have upwards of two hundred thousand Merkiaari on planet, and I have precisely six hundred and forty viper units to engage them. That means each unit must kill three hundred and twelve point two Merki troopers. Doable, but not easy.”
Merkiaari Wars: 02 - What Price Honour Page 33