“Tlenfro!” came the shout from ten thousand throats.
Tlomega nodded, satisfied. They were more than ready. The end of the once-mighty Confederation lay in sight.
* * *
“We’re ready, Fleet Admiral,” Star Admiral Sab Tlorth reported. The Tlartox fleets moved in formation, ready for the jump to hyperspace. Two fleets stood in close formation, ready for the trip to Lormar. Two more fleets awaited orders to jump for Rosneli and the fifth had the human settlements in the Krovell system as their target.
All would jump this day. They would reach Lormar in five days, Rosneli in ten and the Krovell system in twelve. By the time they had taken Lormar, Rosneli would be under attack and, given the extreme weakness of the humans, only mop-up operations would be left as the fifth fleet dropped on Krovell.
The Hunt was about to start in earnest. Sab felt her own excitement rise as Tood Tlomega swiveled in her chair and regarded her.
“Give the order to jump.”
“Jump!”
Two Tlartox fleets winked out, leaving three behind. Within the hour only empty space would remain. Sab regarded her screen, seeing what the detectors saw: two hundred and fourteen signals, each representing a Tlartox ship. The power! Forty thousand commandos ready to board the Lormar Prime Stations and another fifty-five thousand spacers, all eager to earn commendations in the greatest hunt of modern times, perhaps the greatest hunt of all time.
* * *
Group Leader Rai Tlel groomed carefully. She checked herself in the mirror and bared her teeth. The hunt! Finally. They had wasted too much time trapped aboard the troopships. Without pleasure, she recalled the boarding of Confederation Outpost Horden. It had gone much like Outpost Four. The fire from the station had been murderous, but the commandos hadn’t hesitated. Their small insertion pods had slipped through the fire, which the station directed mainly at the cruisers, whose very purpose was to draw that fire.
“Watch your tails,” she’d warned, “the Confederation doors slide closed quickly.” Some had laughed, but it wasn’t really funny. She’d had her own tail caught on a ‘show the flag’ mission to another Confederation outpost some years earlier.
Confederation sensors did not match Tlartox standards and that particular one hadn’t recognized that her tail remained in the doorway. The pain hadn’t been severe, but the embarrassment was. Here, such a distraction could be fatal.
No tails had been caught on Horden, but there were no defenders either. Perhaps the humans were cowards, but Rai did not doubt that they would defend the Primes. There, the stationtox would fight.
Tlomega talked about human lack of will and honor. What honor was there hunting in a ship? She shrugged. It must be a male thing. Many of the naval personnel were male though most of the officers were female. The Commandos had few males, mostly in logistics. They didn’t have the instincts and reflexes to do the job.
The posters came to mind and Rai bared her teeth again. She’d laughed at the poster which had things just right. A ship’s cook claiming victory in a hunt? Nonsense. In the Commandos, however, that claim would stand up. Even the cooks fought. She looked forward to a good fight—the very reason she had joined the Commandos.
Tlomega, just like a navy rat, had suggested that the humans would put up only token resistance. Perhaps they were the cowards Tlomega suggested, yet even they must know they could not survive the loss of morale an uncontested Tlartox victory would cause. Tlomega erred. They would need more than a quick scratching to take the stations. She would enjoy that.
The sterile air, on the other hand, she would only tolerate. How could humans live like that? She hoped Lormar’s Primes had better air. If nothing else, eventually the fine odor of blood would tease the senses.
There. She was ready. Rai flattened her ears against her head and appreciated the fierce look it gave her. She turned from the mirror. There was honor to be won and her group would win it. Honor meant the kill had to come face to face—no matter what the navy rats thought.
“Fight well, humans,” she said to the empty room.
PRIME ALPHA, COMMAND CENTER
“Commander, an emergence signal!”
“Any word from our pickets?”
“None, sir.”
“Who has guard duty?” Meehknet asked.
“Vindicateur, eight destroyers and two Class-B frigates.”
“Send out a general warning.” He looked at the worry in the signalman’s face. “Just a precaution. I’m sure the entire Tlartox navy couldn’t have slipped by our pickets.”
“Signal is in proper Confederation Naval code, sir.”
CRUISER IMPLACABLE
The starfield wavered and steadied.
“By all that’s holy, it’s true!”
“Captain Monstin, what is it?” The detector officer looked at the screen with astonishment.
“That, lad, is a battleship. Communications, send signal to the battleship, repeat to Prime Alpha, ‘Confederation Cruiser Implacable and Frigates Thorn and Bellur are pleased to find rumors of your existence well founded.’”
“Aud signal from Battleship Vindicateur, sir, full privacy.”
“Put in on.”
“Greetings, Implacable. You find us no less pleased to see you. Welcome to Lormar. You have heard that First Fleet re-forms elsewhere?”
“Greetings Vindicateur. I’m sorry, your signal is breaking up, I couldn’t quite catch that, I’ll have my Comm Tech get on the problem immediately.” Captain Monstin grinned at his Comm Tech’s hurt look. They had received the signal quite clearly.
“We thrive on static, Captain. Welcome indeed.”
PRIME ALPHA
“That’s the second cruiser and eighth frigate that have joined us,” Cenet reported to Fenton. “I’m beginning to believe we actually have a chance.” Three cruisers and six frigates had chosen to not join them and left for the First Fleet reassembly point. The captains of those that stayed risked their careers.
“Good. There’s nothing more sure to cause defeat than belief that defeat is inevitable.” Fenton stood and stretched. “I’m going to put my head down for an hour. Please let me know when the captains of those ships arrive on Prime. Seems they all want to see a real live Adian.” She grinned at Cenet.
“You give them belief in the cause, Admiral. They need to see you.”
“I suppose. Still, I find it rather tiring.”
SEARCHER
“Captain to the bridge!” The call was urgent. This time, however, Sub-Lieutenant Parenner didn’t call for Action Stations. After the last time, Lieutenant Weytok had taken him aside and explained that captains usually preferred to reserve that right for themselves. Outside of a dire situation, discretion dictated another path.
“What is it, Sub-Lieutenant?” Britlot finished closing his jacket as he appeared on the bridge.
“Enemy vessels on detectors, sir.”
“And how do we know they are enemy, Sub?”
“There are one hundred plus of them, sir. Unless the Adians have another couple fleets inbound...”
Britlot smiled. “You are likely very correct, Sub. Spacer Dhine, please inform Lormar Command of the situation and ask for instructions.” He sat down in his chair. “Set course to shadow them from ahead.”
Searcher turned and picked up speed to match that of the powerful fleet on their detectors. This was it. Britlot knew, as did his crew, that the Tlartox were inbound.
“Signal from Command, sir, ‘Come back and join the fun’. A strange idea of fun, sir.” Dhine, tense, still stared at the detector across the bridge.
“Very well, Dhine. Sub, you heard the man, crack on the speed.” Britlot turned on the ISB. “Attention all. We have detected the enemy and will return to Lormar ahead of them. I’ll call action stations shortly after we hit normal space. Anyone not on duty is encouraged to eat, sleep or otherwise prepare. Captain out.”
“Captain, recall orders for all pickets coming in. It looks like this is it.”
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br /> PREDATOR, HYPERSPACE NEAR LORMAR
“Star Admiral Tlorth, we have a vessel at the edge of detection range.”
“Which way is it heading?”
“Towards Lormar, sir.”
“Then they know we are coming. Thank you.” Sab turned away and left the bridge. She would inform Fleet Admiral Tlomega personally. She entered Tlomega’s cabin at the harsh command of the Fleet Admiral.
“Fleet Admiral, they have spotted us. The enemy vessel, a scout, is pulling away, returning to Lormar.”
Tlomega bared her teeth. They looked particularly nasty this morning, Sab thought. A hunter ready to tear the throat from her prey. “So we will have no surprise. It will make no difference. We go with Variation Two.”
“Aye, sir, I’ll pass that on.”
Sab saluted, turned and left the Fleet Admiral’s day cabin. Variation Two had them exiting hyperspace a fair distance from Lormar proper. They would regroup, get in battle formation and advance upon the four primes as observation of the defense dictated.
Sab caught the smell of damp earth coming through the vents. Damp earth and flowers—a calming scent. Blontera must have ordered it. She made a good captain, Sab thought. One worthy of the honor of Flagship Command.
“Ah, Captain Blontera,” Sab called out as that worthy met her sight, “a fine scent.”
Blontera nodded gravely. “Yes. What the crew needs at this point. Any word from the Fleet Admiral, sir?”
They walked together. “Variation Number Two, Captain. We assess, and then go in battle-ready.” Sab felt the relief pass through the Captain. She, no doubt, recalled the Fleet Admiral’s drop from hyperspace without probes. That had truly frightened them all and Sab had no more wish to relive it than did Captain Blontera.
BREVNIZ VILLAGE, LORMAR
“Finished,” Sillan told Mayor Jeth Brendor.
Brendor nodded as he looked at the five vid screens. It had been a job getting them all set up in time. They had wired the Community Hall and set up two satellite dishes borrowed from businesses. Now they had five channels working. The content was something never before seen. Two vid streams came in from each of the four prime stations. One dealt with inner workings and the other with the space outside the station.
The war would be on display for each and every citizen to see—if she or he so desired. Unbelievable.
“Did you see Bel leading her group on exercise?” Brendor asked Sillan.
“Yes I did. I made a record of it. She looked good, didn’t she?” Sillan smiled in remembrance and everyone in the hall joined in the smiles. She and the other seven were ‘their’ marines.
“Yes, much better than the first time. I didn’t like it when she and her troop were declared killed.” The smiles faded. What happened above seemed all too real, now.
Bel and four of their marines were stationed on Prime Alpha, while the other three defended Delta. Four of the screens were devoted to vid streams from those two primes. The fifth was tuned to the stream from the Fleet.
The citizens of Brevniz felt a part of the action, even more so since Tren Brendor, the mayor’s son, had volunteered and lifted to Prime Alpha. He had served a term in the military before joining the small police detachment in Brevniz.
These were their people, fighting for them, and someone needed to stand witnesses. Reports from Prime Alpha told of the incoming Tlartox Fleet, maybe four hours away. By the time they arrived, the entire population of Brevniz would be in the community hall.
It would not have surprised them to know that the same arrangement existed in countless villages, towns and cities all over Lormar.
PRIME ALPHA
“Do you really think this wise, Admiral?” Cenet asked Fenton as they inspected the Comm Center.
“Necessary, Admiral,” she replied.
Just why the Adians found it necessary, Cenet didn’t understand, but who knew what customs they had adopted over the last three hundred years?
During the last few days, vid agencies from all around the Confederation had messaged them, requesting a chance to bid on the vid streams. It would be the greatest coup they’d ever had if they got them.
To their great surprise, the Adians had granted all requests with no payment required. They offered no exclusives at any price. There was a catch, however. If any vid agency used their streams, there could be no advertisements interspersed through the action or lack of action. They permitted break-aways to staff, who would analyze this or that, but no commercial entity would benefit from this free signal.
Much grumbling arose, yet none dared complain too loudly and none dared give up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
The Comm Tech looked over the banks of screens and tested each camera. As they moved from shot to shot, the group of military commentators followed the stream and explained to their vast and growing audience just what they were seeing.
“It’s going to be brutal,” Cenet commented.
“Yes it is.”
Cenet looked behind him to find General Korvan of the Adian Marines had entered.
“You’ll lose your viewers by the droves, General.”
“Perhaps. However, I doubt it.” The general turned his attention to the commentators. “All ready?” They gave him fist up signs. He smiled. “And if this room is taken out?”
“Signals will automatically be relayed to a secondary unit on Prime Bravo, sir,” the Comm-Tech reported.
The general knew that but, noticing the vid stream going out came from that very room, he’d taken the opportunity to explain to the viewers that eventuality. Next, he introduced each commentator. None smiled. They each just held their right fist up, back of the hand to the camera, the traditional all’s well sign of the Marines.
“Well, Gentlemen, Ladies, I guess we are about as ready as we can be.” General Korvan turned to the Admirals. “I suggest that you repair to your ships. Time begins to run short.”
Cenet and Fenton nodded their agreement.
* * *
Commodore Taglini fretted about the repair dock. Tempest required further work. The stations’ crews had worked diligently and repaired much of the damage, but not enough. Hurricane and Cyclone lay in similar shape, their captains urging dockworkers and crew to ever-greater efforts.
The dockers, it had to be admitted, worked feverishly to complete repairs. The vessels would do them more good in space than attached to the station where they could not maneuver or fire their full complement of weapons.
“Captain Fronel, good to see you back.” Upon his orders, Fronel had gone planetside for two days leave. He needed his chance to say his good-byes. Taglini had made a veiled suggestion that Fronel might find it impossible to get back up to Prime Alpha. Obviously, Fronel had not taken him up on that offer.
“Better to be here and help protect them,” he answered Taglini’s unasked question.
“Good man. Let’s get aboard and see what’s what.”
* *
Commander Meehknet sat quietly in his Command Center. He glanced at the detectors and the screens, but said nothing, made no movements. He half regretted that Captain Tetwucan was back in his ship, Foremost having completed repairs.
His counterpart, in the auxiliary Command Center, was now Captain Llemartol from Cyclone. Cyclone needed more time in dock. Her weapons were manned, but most of the crew had replaced the dead and injured on Tempest and Hurricane, which were almost space-ready.
He glanced across the Command Center to Major Coll Britlot, who waited with a patience that equaled his own. Major Britlot would do, Meehknet thought. Not one to panic, or even become upset over his subordinates’ mistakes. He had watched as Britlot had critiqued one of the Marine exercises. The Major had made only positive suggestions, praising them where deserved, yet never tearing them down where others might have thought it deserved as well.
No wonder the Major’s command had high morale. Meehknet hoped that he would do as well as the Major, hoped his people would fight with the same
intensity with which Britlot’s people trained.
Detectors showed the defensive forces about Prime Alpha and the mass of the fleet as it orbited past them. The supply and tow ships had slipped out to the fifth planet. It was unlikely that the Tlartox would search that far afield. Rather, they would drop relatively close to Lormar and engage the Confederation and allied ships here. If discovered, the non-combatant vessels could jump to hyperspace and escape. At least that was the plan.
* * *
Bel Frincol lay in her bunk, trying to rest. Like the rest of the Marines, she’d been given time to herself. She wished that she had made a record for her father, but there never seemed to be time. Now, she needed to rest. For the good of her troop, she needed to be sharp.
She would have plenty of time to get to her action station. Only minutes after an alarm sounded, the station would be ready to repel boarders. Unlikely that the Tlartox could get in that close that quickly.
She wondered how Sillan occupied this time, remembering his loving kisses and tender touches. She replayed them in her mind, allowing thoughts of him to be her last waking ones. Gently, with a smile playing about her lips, she went through the procedures which enabled her to quickly drop into sleep. Perhaps she would dream of him.
VINDICTIVE, FLAGSHIP SECOND FLEET
Admiral Blarenti stepped onto the bridge. He looked like he hadn’t slept much lately.
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