by Jay Allan
Compton had never met Bogdan, but from what he’d heard, the Russian was one hell of a pilot and officer. He hoped he’d get the chance to congratulate him when the fighting was through.
But he had other things to do now. “Commodore Harmon, all vessels are to prepare for missile launch. We’ll be clearing the external racks and then firing an immediate barrage from internal magazines.”
Harmon paused for an instant. Firing from the magazines right after launching externally mounted missiles was tricky. Ejecting the empty mounts was a complex operation, and ships had to fire their positioning engines to realign themselves afterward. Hurrying the process vastly increased the risk of problems. But Harmon knew Compton was well aware of the difficulties. “Yes, sir. Advising all task forces now.”
Even without the other half of Grand Fleet, the force under Compton’s command was the largest fleet any human being had ever led into battle. On the journey to the frontier, Compton had wondered how it would feel to be sitting in his chair commanding such an awesome force, how he would handle the pressure. Now that he was there, it didn’t seem very different from any other battle. He was cold, focused…everything he had to be during a fight. Later he would second guess his decisions, and then the regret would come, and the grief for those lost. But there was no place for that in the heat of battle, and Compton had locked it away…as he always did.
Jacob’s laser buoys had attacked almost immediately after the enemy fleet entered the system. Scanning data was still incomplete, but it looked like at least 4 Gargoyles had been destroyed and one of the Leviathans was heavily damaged. Compton was grateful. Jacobs’ heroism in holding back the buoys would make a big difference when the main lines clashed.
John Duke’s attack ships would be going in next. Then Greta Hurley’s people would attack right behind Compton’s first missile volley. With any luck, the enemy fleet would suffer serious losses before they even engaged Compton’s main force.
“Commodore Harmon, all ships are to prepare to deploy laser buoys after missile launch.” He was going to place his own x-ray lasers right here. “Targeting programs will prioritize the enemy Leviathans.” Compton really wanted those monsters destroyed as quickly as possible.
“Yes, admiral.”
“And prepare a thrust plan. The fleet will be pulling back 1,500,000 kilometers after laser deployment.” He wanted his laser buoys engaging the enemy before his own ships were within energy weapons range.
“Yes, sir.”
Compton leaned back and stared at the display. He was silent. His thoughts were with John Duke and Greta Hurley.
“Group A, begin deceleration in three zero seconds.” Hurley was speaking loudly, almost shouting. She didn’t want any slipups on this mission. Her A group was assigned to missile defense, their sole focus taking out as many antimatter missiles as possible before they could reach the fleet.
“Group B, prepare for acceleration in six zero seconds.” B Group – along with Hurley herself – was going at the enemy fleet, coordinating its assault with Compton’s first missile barrage. With missiles and bombers coming in at once, the enemy would have to split their point defense fire. Hurley had no idea if they’d concentrate on one threat or divide their resources, but either way, more attacks were going to get through to the enemy line.
Her plan was complicated, and she’d drilled it into her squadron leaders’ heads. They were going to be attacking as the missiles were seeking targets and detonating. She and Compton had worked out specific attack corridors for her wings…designated locations the missiles would be programmed to avoid. If her pilots got crazy, if they flew out of their specified zones, they could easily find themselves on top of a 500 megaton warhead about to blow.
One thing would be different about this attack than the last. Hurley’s ship would be in the middle of the action. Commander Wilder had put up a good fight, invoking Garret’s name at least three times. But Hurley wouldn’t take no for an answer. She came close to bringing her sidearm into the debate, but Wilder finally relented. He didn’t like hanging back from the fight any more than she did.
“A Leader to command…A group breaking off now.” Hurley had handpicked Captain Akira to lead the anti-missile group. He was the PRC’s most accomplished pilot, and she trusted him to direct the pinpoint flying it would take to effectively intercept the enemy’s antimatter missiles. She’d given him the PRC squadrons and a good portion of her own Alliance flyers. She kept the less experienced Europan and CAC bomber wings in her B Group. They were more accustomed to executing attack runs at capital ships, and she knew she’d be there to keep them on a tight leash.
“Initiating thrust in 10 seconds, admiral.” The AIs on every ship were making the same announcement. The acceleration couches were partially deployed, which would provide enough support against the 10g maximum she expected from her thrust plan. It wouldn’t be pleasant, but she wanted to avoid having her crews under the influence of the drug cocktail a full burn would require. She didn’t think anyone could be 100% right after coming out of that, even with the stims…and she wanted everyone in her group focused like razors.
She leaned back and closed her eyes, listening to the AI count down the final few seconds to the burn. She’d gotten knocked out of the last fight early, but this time she was going right down their throats.
Chapter 27
First Imperium Sector Base
Planet Sigma 4 II
Cain had been standing and staring for at least ten minutes. The room itself was enough to inspire awe. It was perfectly round, 300 meters in diameter, rising 80 meters from where he stood. He was on the edge of a circular catwalk looking down. The space was impressive enough, but the giant dish below was truly extraordinary. It looked like some type of antenna or projector, but Cain was just guessing. Hector told him it was exactly 240 meters in diameter, constructed of a material similar to that in the First Imperium warship hulls.
“Confirm that energy reading, Hector.” Cain heard what his AI said, but he simply didn’t believe it.
“The object appears be powered by a total of 3.17 terawatts of power. This is, without question, a major component of the power output we detected from the exterior of the facility.”
Cain stood on the catwalk silently, staring at the alien mechanism. Hofstader was standing next to him, working with a small scanning device. “Can you detect the power source, Friederich? I can’t imagine what could be producing so much energy.”
“I believe I can offer you an answer to that question…if you do not mind my filling in the gaps with conjecture.” The scientist’s eyes didn’t move from the device in his hands.
“Not at all. I’d appreciate any thoughts you have.”
Hofstader finally looked up from his scanner, turning to face Cain. “It appears that the entire facility is powered by the internal energy generated by this planet. There are a number of significant similarities with the energy sources in the antimatter factory on Epsilon Eridani IV.”
“I would have expected it to take some type of massive reactor to generate that kind of power.” Cain’s eyes had drifted back to the giant dish.
“Our studies on Epsilon Eridani IV have been quite illuminating, general. We have known for centuries the vast amount of energy that could theoretically be tapped from the geothermal and tectonic properties of a planet.” He paused, catching himself before he launched into a full blown lecture. You’re not in a classroom, he reminded himself. “Simply put, our exploitation of this energy source has always been limited by engineering constraints. We’ve been compelled to locate geothermal power plants near points where tectonic plates meet, for example, and our conversion efficiencies are therefore very low.” His eyes moved toward the alien structure. “But the First Imperium has far more advanced technology. On Carson’s World, there are multiple shafts drilled directly to the planet’s core.” He paused again. “The First Imperium is able to harness virtually all of a planet’s energy, a power source equal to thous
ands, if not millions, of fusion reactors. It is the secret to their ability to mass produce antimatter.”
“So the ability to power this device is not even extraordinary to them?” Cain’s question didn’t really demand a response…he knew the answer already. “Do you have any ideas on the purpose of thing?”
“I am speculating wildly, General Cain, but it appears to be some sort of jamming mechanism utilizing a form of dark energy we do not completely understand, one that is difficult even to detect. It may very well be projecting a field that would make an object in nearby space invisible and otherwise undetectable.” Hofstader was walking slowly along the catwalk, his eyes fixed on the object. “That might explain why we detected nothing from orbit. I’m afraid our scanning devices are nearly useless with these types of emissions.”
Cain stood facing Hofstader. “Are you saying you believe there is something hidden somewhere near this planet? Something we have not picked up on our scanners?”
“That is exactly what I am saying, General Cain. Though the entire supposition is pure guesswork.” There was doubt in Hofstader’s voice, but only a touch. He sounded fairly confident.
“I have to warn Admiral Garret.” Cain’s voice had become more urgent. “There could be some type of fortress or battleship hiding up there.”
“Indeed, general. That is a very real possibility.” Hofstader paused. “But I would guess that it is something different, more singular. Though I am at a loss to offer a suggestion as to what that may be.”
Cain glanced down at his display, confirming what he already knew. His com didn’t have the power to reach the fleet from this deep in the enemy base. The First Imperium metals interfered enormously with transmissions. He turned to face his aides. “Captain Haney, get up to the surface immediately and contact Admiral Garret. Tell him what we found, and advise him that we suspect there is some type of enemy construct either in orbit or nearby that is currently being hidden by a jamming device.”
“Yes, sir.” Haney snapped to attention before turning and walking quickly back the way they had come.
Cain turned to face Hofstader, a deliberative scowl on his face. “So what happens if we destroy this thing?”
“This is appalling.” Sarah Linden had been running around snapping out orders since she’d stepped out of the shuttle. She turned to one of her aides. “Get on the com. I want two mobile field hospitals down here…and I mean now!”
“Yes, colonel.” Captain Roan was Sarah’s newest assistant and, so far, she’d been the best of them all. She quickly relayed the orders to the orbiting hospital fleet.
The plain was covered with wounded, thousands of them. They were being tended by a bunch of medics and six overwhelmed surgeons. Half of them were still in the wreckage of their armor, waiting to be extracted by the single overworked plasma torch crew. At least, she thought, looking out over the twisted heaps of humanity intertwined with machinery, some of their trauma control systems were probably functioning…at least partially.
Sarah had still been assembling Grand Fleet’s medical task force when Compton and Erik and the rest of their people had taken off for the frontier. They may have had the newest and strongest warships with them, but their medical services were woefully inadequate, especially to support a major ground campaign.
Thank God these suits are so good at keeping wounded men and women alive, she thought, or we’d have nothing but a plain full of corpses by now. “Tricia, I need triage teams down here too. At least thirty.”
“Yes, colonel.” Her voice was sharp and crisp. Tricia Roan was proving to be as tireless as her boss. Sarah went through aides quickly, generally burning them out with the workload before moving on to the next. Sarah Linden was calm and pleasant in normal settings, but when there were wounded to care for she was a brutal taskmaster, and she didn’t hesitate to employ her iron fist on anyone who didn’t keep up with her relentless standards. She was as intense in her own way as Cain was in his. Those who knew both of them considered it some kind of bizarre fate they found each other.
It looked like the casualties in the battle had been enormously high. She was shocked to see so many wounded, and stunned to encounter the terrible conditions in the makeshift field hospitals. She’d been able to confirm that Erik hadn’t been killed or wounded, which at least let her put that worry out of her mind. She didn’t want any distractions right now, not even Erik…she was going to give 100% to these wounded Marines. And the Janissaries too. Sarah Linden would treat any wounded soldier, but she made a note to try to assign male doctors to the Caliphate casualties whenever possible. She didn’t approve of the gender roles in the Caliphate, but that wasn’t an argument she intended to have with wounded and dying men on the battlefield.
She wondered briefly about the cultural differences between the Superpowers, how much of it was real…and how much was manufactured, designed to keep soldiers loyal to the state and hating their enemies.
She’d spent weeks working on Commander Farooq after the fighting on Sandoval. The Janissary commander had been horrifically wounded…even Sarah had been sure he was going to die. But she pulled him through somehow, and he expressed nothing but gratitude and kindness to the female doctor who’d saved his life. Ali Khaled, Farooq’s superior, had been equally gracious, sending her a personal note of thanks…as well as an official communique to General Holm, praising her work and awarding her the formal gratitude of the Janissary Corps. Fighting alongside old enemies had taught them all a great deal, she thought…maybe we’ll get the time to figure it all out one day.
“Stop your daydreaming, Linden,” she said to herself. “There’s work to do.” She tapped her comlink. “Tricia…we need plasma torches down here too. I want those on the first shuttle.”
“Get General McDaniels to Colonel Linden.” Catherine Gilson’s voice was firm, commanding. “Immediately.”
McDaniels had taken a pretty bad hit, but Gilson didn’t think it was too dangerous. The Obliterator suit was very tough, and its trauma control system was top notch. Still, she wasn’t taking any chances.
“Yes, general.” Tim Karantz snapped to attention and ran over a small hill to the west. McDaniels’ people had carried her back from the line to a relatively safe spot in a protected ravine. Word had spread quickly through the ranks, the story escalating as it did. First, it simply was news that the general was down...then the reports of her death began to spread. Her Marines were shaken, heartbroken at the word their beloved general had been killed. But there was more than sadness…they were enraged too, and the lust for revenge pushed away the fatigue and the fear. Her lines stopped their retreat and surged back at the enemy, attacking savagely, ignoring their losses. The enemy was momentarily stunned by the ferocity of the advance…and then Gilson’s people hit them on the flank. An imminent First Imperium victory turned rapidly into an ignominious defeat. In less than an hour it evolved from a battle to a hunting expedition, Gilson’s newly arrived forces tracking down the last enemy survivors among the rocks and gullies. There were still a few rogue enemy bots holding out here and there, but Gilson had declared the planet secure.
She’d tried to reach Cain half a dozen times, but it was impossible to force a signal into the depths of the enemy base. Finally, she sent a party inside with orders to find Cain and report. Cain knew the fleet had arrived, but he probably had no idea how the fighting had gone. She knew he had to be sweating what was happening on the surface, especially since he was out of touch. He’d put McDaniels’ brigade – the whole army, really – on the spot so his lighting attack could penetrate into the base. Gilson smiled. It was another brilliant plan…but risky as all hell. No one, she thought, could say Erik Cain didn’t have balls. Though this time, she thought, he might have pushed it too far. Her people had arrived in a nick of time…if they hadn’t…she didn’t want to think of what might have happened to Cain and his forces.
“General Gilson…” Major Horace had been one of the heroes of the campaign on Garris
on. He’d been a captain who found himself in command of a brigade before the fighting was done. After the battle, Gilson had promoted him and made him her top aide. “…I have one of General Cain’s people with me.”
She turned. Horace was walking down the hillside to her with a heavyset Marine following him. She read the small nameplate on the aide’s helmet. “Captain Haney, I am glad to see you in one piece.” She walked slowly toward the approaching figures. “How is your boss?”
Haney walked the last few steps toward Gilson and snapped to attention, always a clumsy affair in armor. “He is well, General Gilson.”
“Can you get word to him that we have secured the surface?” She paused, then added, “It will be one less thing for him to worry about.”
“Yes, general. Certainly.” Haney’s tone was distracted, uncomfortable. “But first I have orders from General Cain. I need to report to Admiral Garret and General Holm. Immediately.”
“Admiral, I didn’t expect you to come down here.” Cain was surprised to see Augustus Garret walk into the room. The admiral got around fairly well in powered armor, especially for someone who wasn’t a regular ground pounder. “Don’t you have a fleet to run or something?” It was highly irregular for the fleet admiral to leave his flagship and go down to a planet’s surface. But Cain’s shock quickly faded. He knew Garret well…well enough to realize he shouldn’t have been surprised at all. “Or you, general.” Elias Holm had come in right behind Garret.
“How could I not get a look at this thing you found?” Garret was standing on the edge of the catwalk, staring at the massive dish. “I’ve got the fleet on full alert, but we’re going to have to figure out what this dish is hiding. Soon.”