In the dead of night.
Without a shot fired.
It was then that the natives began to call the general the equivalent of the Bloody Wolf. Though their “wolf” was actually a fast-moving saurian raptor that hunted at noon.
Hannubal had never admitted to the raid, and though it had almost cost him his career, as far as the navy and the House of Reason were concerned, within the Legion it made his reputation as a general who got things done no matter what.
Now, sitting in front of Legion Commander Keller, the man known as the Bloody Wolf seemed the opposite of all the infamy that had almost crucified him in the media at the time.
The Legion had been accused by all the major news networks of “making monsters.”
“This is a simple operation,” Keller began. “It’s an attack on a fixed position. There are two shield generators in play. One mushroom cap over Gibraltaar and one planetary defense shield tied into the core tap grid. We’re sending in a kill team to take out the shield generator array located in the Sarum Harassa neighborhood in Ankalor City. Like I said, it’s an attack on a fixed position, and you’ll have full orbital support from our ships. Nothing more than a simple operation to take an entrenched position, just grand scale. The zhee are foaming at the mouth for a chance to die for one of their gods in battle… and we’d like you to help them.”
Keller thumbed through a menu and brought up a schematic of the base. Then he looked at the younger man soberly.
“How would you take this base, Marcaius?”
Keller knew full well that the young general had already spent twenty-four hours developing a plan, and the Legion commander had a pretty good idea, or at least so he thought, of what General Hannubal was going to ask for to complete the op.
The assets had been stacked and arranged. Ready to be committed at the drop of a hat from all across the nearby sectors. A drop fleet. Air cover. Heavy armor. The works. And all of it in support of what would be, at the end of the day, a bunch of leejes going in there to wipe out everyone. Because that’s what it had to be. It had to be total. And it was… what it always was. What it always came down to.
Sending men in to do what needed to be done.
Hannubal didn’t lean forward to check the map one last time. He knew what he was going to do. Instead with a brief nod he committed once more to the plan he’d walked through the door with. With one arm over the back of the chair and one boot kicked out in front of the other like some Caesar from ancient days he spoke with an ease that belied the awesome destruction he was about to rain down on the zhee. Calmly and with total confidence, he told his superior how he was going to murder them all for daring to even think insolently about who was in charge of the Republic. The zhee had it coming. They’d brought this on themselves with their mass uprisings, their suicide bombs against civilian targets. Their terror. Their unwillingness to live and let live.
Keller had expected the worst from the Wolf. He had half-guessed how he would do it. But what Marcaius Hannubal said stunned Legion Commander Keller.
“This can be done without the casualties the tac assessment AI tells us we’re supposed to take, sir. I don’t need the entire fleet in orbit, initially, and I’d like to take the assault carriers in at the same time the KT does the insert on the planetary shield array. I don’t need navy interceptor cover either, and we’ll use our own armor. We’ll hit the target with all three legions and the assault carriers, and pin their commander so he can slip away.”
Keller hadn’t expected a commander to want to go in without fleet cover… but it made a kind of sense. Pin Karshak Bum Kali before he could slip away into any one of a million bolt holes inside the zhee slum networks. Going in to that nightmare hellhole would cost good legionnaires their lives for no reason. And with no guarantee of the high-value target’s capture.
Hannubal continued.
“The longer we wait, the more the zhee mullahs will begin their call to arms. Pinning down their war leader quickly allows us to dictate terms. If they see a fleet in orbit, those dress-wearing donkeys will pull everyone they can out of the slums in Ankalor and surround the place with their own females and children. Plus they have control of the planetary shield array. They’ll throw that thing up once they get their first sniff of trouble. Tac assessment puts our casualties much higher if that happens, because we all know the women and children are just as vicious as the donk male. And the mullahs don’t mind strapping explosives on the females and their kids. It has to be now, and it has to be quick. This is a knife fight in a blind alley, sir. First one to cut deep wins and gets to walk away.”
Keller caught Colonel Speich staring at him, and the look was not good. Speich was a cautious, conservative officer who did everything with business-like efficiency.
“Okay,” said Keller slowly, leaning back in his chair. “Then tell me how you take the base and get Karshak Bum Kali alive? Because I need him for the next move. Everyone else, not so much.”
“There are three defenses we need to overcome to take the fortress,” said General Hannubal. “The air defense turrets beyond the defensive shield. The outer ring trench system. And the central fortress itself, built inside the rock. I just need those three assault carriers, the three currently picking up the legions and armor. Re-route them to the arsenal at Duram Hatam, because we want the old-issue gear that actually works—the tactical armor from the Kublar days. And they’ve still got racks and racks of N-42s; those platoons will want those babies, sir. Twenty-four hours to load out, and then we jump. Low-altitude capital ship jump insertion right into the atmosphere southwest of the fortress. Assault carriers descend to below five hundred, and they can’t be hit until they’re within visual of the air defense turrets. I have a recon company and a few other assets en route to HOLO into the area of operation and play a few dirty tricks before we ring the bell.”
Hannubal reached forward and expanded the terrain map surrounding the fortress complex. He drew the map down toward the southwest coordinates until they were over an area the map labeled “Alpha Zulu Zero Three.”
“These,” continued General Hannubal, “are the facility’s blaster, heavy weapons, and explosive ordnance ranges intended for training use. The zhee won’t be here because they don’t train, and it’s outside the defensive shield that prevents us from firing from orbit. A long berm protects our LZ from direct fire from the base. We’ll offload HK-PP armor and strike teams here. They have to cross a quarter mile of open field to hit the trenches, but we’ll be using SMAFF to cover the assault. Our drop ships will run ops out of the assault carriers, which will lock forward deflectors and form the IDS system. At that point they’ll be invincible against anything the base can throw at their forward deflectors.
“We start the ground operations immediately at first light. Surprise, speed, and overwhelming force will take us inside the trenches quickly. Once we assault through the three rings of the trench network, we can take the main complex with explosives and flamethrowers. Counter-sniper and anti-armor teams will keep the base’s rock-side turrets, anti-armor, and sniper teams busy so we can get at the front door. But there’s no two ways about it, Commander: we can’t get much more surprise out of this than that. It’s a big rock sticking up out of the desert floor. And the fighting in the trenches will be brutal. But if we move quickly and violently to exploit our gains, we can do this with as little loss of life as possible.”
Keller said nothing.
Colonel Speich moved forward.
“As you’ve noted, General,” he said to Hannubal, “the air defense turrets that surround the facility will be able to hit the incoming assault carriers before they put down on the LZ. Those carriers can’t integrate deflectors and form the IDS until they’re down and centrally slaved to one another’s power plant systems. To avoid the fire from the towers, you’ll have to put down outside their range. But then the indirect fire you’ll take from the fortress will tear your armor and men to pieces as you cross open ground to get in
to the trenches.”
Hannubal nodded; the man’s point was salient. But he countered.
“That’s why we need to come in fast and get inside their indirect fire radius. Using the training ranges for an LZ accomplishes this. The energy gun batteries on levels forty-six and seven aren’t ranged for targets that close to the base. As for the air defense turrets, I’ve already HOLO-dropped a long-range company in the Ankalor wastes. They’re masquerading as Guzim Haxadi, a local tribe of nomadic zhee who live deep out in the desert. The installation’s ground radar will track them as just nomads coming in to do trade. They’ll reach the southwestern air defense turret at dusk the night before. My plan calls for them to free climb the rock it’s built on and take the battery by stealth. Once inside, they’ll have access to the air defense network grid. Disabling that will allow us to bring the assault carriers in. That’s assuming the zhee haven’t suddenly become competent coders who can rewrite targeting and acquisition code destroyed by an algo-worm.”
Keller leaned back and checked his watch. “Agreed, Marcaius. Now I’ve got to meet with the rest for phase two of the operation. Once they activate the planetary shield you’ll be trapped down there. So we’re going to knock that down so the fleet can come in and support operations against any kind of counter-response.”
04
Legion Destroyer Intrepid
Cononga System
Captain Chhun hunched over the conference table in Victory Squad’s team room. This was the squad’s fourth stint aboard the Intrepid, which now felt more like home to Chhun than any other place he knew, apart from his family’s place on Teema. Already Victory’s squad flag—featuring a koob skull with thunderbolts crossed behind it—hung prominently behind the tactical planning table. The rest of their memorabilia—from countless ops dating back to the Battle of Kublar—would be shuttled in later. Interior decorating wasn’t really a priority right now.
But filling team vacancies was. Sticks was recovering well, but getting used to a cybernetic leg took some time. Lots of physical therapy. Chhun had figured that Wraith would take Sticks’s spot, so he hadn’t really conducted a search prior to the Herbeer mission.
And then they lost Pike.
Victory Squad could get by with only five Dark Ops leejes most of the time. But four… that wasn’t going to fly.
Chhun scanned the list of names Major Owens had sent him; it was lit up on the surface of the tactical table before him. At this point, Chhun had been in Dark Ops for so long, he didn’t really know too many men serving in the Legion proper. He was relying on Owens’s recommendations, and had asked for help from Bear, the newest member of the team, thinking he would have better knowledge of who could make the jump from Legion to Dark Ops.
He tapped on a sub-section of the list, causing the grouping to enlarge and show head shots and mini-bios.
“How ’bout someone from Synth Squad?” Bear asked. “They’re all on the ship for now, and you saw them in action first-hand. I know that’s important to you, Cap.”
Chhun nodded slowly. “It is, but the only one I’d go for is Rowdy. And it sounds like he’ll be on Herbeer for a while yet.”
“Let’s sort by commendation and service levels,” Bear said, tapping the table a few more times to make the holographic overlay dance with new data.
Chhun looked over the info and shook his head. “Yeah, see… this is disappointing. I mean, look at some of these PT scores. I know every leej feels like his class was the best, but honestly, you think these guys would have made the cut back when we first joined the Legion?”
Bear let out a snort. “Hell no. Thank the points, brother. High standards mean hurt feelings, right?”
“Just find somebody who can shoot!” Masters called out from the sofa lounger, not taking his eyes away from the holo game that flashed before him. “They can—ah dammit, stupid campers—they can stay in the back with an N-18. That way they won’t have to run until we get them in shape.”
“Maybe you should go into full VR and haptic, so you won’t die so much,” suggested Fish, who was watching Masters play. “Lose the controller.”
“That’s called easy mode,” Masters said, selecting a new loadout and a new kit. He was playing as a Savage marine against the Legion in an FPS that hearkened back several centuries. “Besides, I run around shooting stuff all the time as it is. When I play a game, I wanna be able to kill people while sitting on my ass.”
“Shoulda been a pilot then.”
“No kidding,” Masters said, his attention fixed on the screen as he spawned aboard a Savage lighthugger. “So what do you think of my plan, Cap?”
Chhun was still studying Owens’s list. “That might be the best option we—”
A soft chime came from one of the legionnaires’ helmets, which were resting in a gear cubby built into the far wall. Someone was attempting to reach one of them through a private L-comm channel linked directly to a bucket. That was unusual—that would normally be done only while on combat operations.
Masters put his controller down, wincing as he saw his assault-class character die from a grenade blast. He moved to the shelf, then looked over to Chhun. “It’s coming from yours, boss.”
Chhun grabbed the bucket and saw that someone had placed a sticker of a pink cartoon cat on the side. “Thanks for that,” he said dryly, shooting a look at Masters.
He placed the helmet over his head, drowning out his squad’s chuckles as the bucket’s operating system booted up.
Incoming secure transmission. Accept? Y/N
“Accept,” Chhun said, not wanting to flick out his tongue to hit the proper toggle. Not until he cleaned the thing out. Who knew what kind of grubby handling this thing had been subjected to during the little sticker prank.
“Hey, glad you’re all right,” came the voice from the other end.
Chhun smiled. He hadn’t known how he would feel about hearing from Wraith after the way they’d parted. But it had been Wraith, after all, who had sent Lao Pak to Herbeer with Victory Squad, and Chhun felt that Major Owens’s life had been saved due to their early arrival. So yes, Chhun felt okay hearing from Wraith. Happy, even.
“Thanks. Good to hear from you, Ford. Keel, I mean.”
“Actually, Wraith is fine for the time being. Kind of keeping Keel on the down-low because of some company I’ve got. You get Owens?”
“He’s fine. In fact—”
“Look, not to cut you off, but I found Exo.”
Chhun’s eyebrows went up. Exo was exactly the type of leej he needed back on the team. Wraith, too. Perhaps if the two of them could join…
But that wasn’t going to happen. At least not until Wraith recovered his crew.
“Really? Good. Hey, before you go any further, I know I said that the team would help you get your crew back after the Herbeer op, but, uh… we’re gonna be busy. Real busy. It was crazy, Wraith. Leejes—real leejes, not those easy-pass guys the points brought in—were all imprisoned on Herbeer, just like the major. Keller has a plan.”
There was a pause, then Wraith said, “So Exo works for Goth Sullus now.”
“What?”
“Yeah. I was surprised too. He’s going after the same Nether Ops team as me. The reason Broxin wanted my crew was because one of them is a biological passkey to control some unmanned fleet. A big one. Can’t get near it without the key. We’re headed there now.”
“An unmanned fleet? Like, just sitting there?” Chhun asked. This was… amazing. “Is it in good shape? Whose was it? Aliens? Savage marines? A whole fleet, really?”
Wraith didn’t seem to share Chhun’s enthusiasm. “How should I know?”
“Wraith, this is big. An additional fleet at this stage could swing the balance of power. The Legion needs those ships.”
“Sure, because there’s no chance that they aren’t made up or inoperative.” Wraith’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “But yeah, that’s sort of why I’m calling you.”
Masters tapped Chhun on the s
houlder. “Who is it? What’re they saying? Is it your sister? Your mom? How did they get L-comms?”
Chhun waved off the interruption. “Wraith, if one of your crew is a key to… what, access this fleet? … and you’re missing your crew, then how do you… I don’t know, get in?”
Wraith cleared his throat. “I, uh, found a skeleton key. Don’t worry about it. Look, I gotta go. Get the approval from Owens or whoever to remain on standby. I’ll contact you again.”
“Right,” Chhun said, still thinking about the fleet. “But what does that even mean, this bit about a key? Is everything on a master-slave control system?”
“Sure,” Wraith said, sounding somewhat flummoxed.
Chhun nodded. This was huge. Ford leaving, Exo leaving, it now seemed like that had happened for a reason. “Yeah, okay. And hey, Wraith.”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful.”
“Eh, we’ll see. KTF, Chhun.”
***
The Indelible VI
Porcha System
Ravi shook his head at his captain. “Skeleton key?”
Keel gave a wide grin. “Pretty good for off the top of my head, right?” He stood up and adjusted the blaster holstered to his thigh. He moved around the back of his chair, squeezed the upholstery as he arched his back, and heard a series of small pops.
Ravi looked up. “You are going to speak with the shock troopers now?”
“Yeah. It’s about time.”
“And should I come with you?”
“In case there’s trouble?” Keel shrugged. “I can handle it. They’re both former Legion, so I think they’ll be more talkative without you there. No offense.”
Ravi nodded, indicating that none was taken. “There is a thirty-eight percent chance they are laying a trap for you.”
“See?” Keel said, moving to the cockpit’s door. “Good odds. Besides, I already know you and the Six will be playing guardian angel. Just don’t activate the stun bursts if I’m standing next to a bulkhead. Last time the bump I got on my forehead was there for almost a month.”
Turning Point (Galaxy's Edge Book 7) Page 4