Stand or Fall (The Omega War Book 4)

by Kevin Ikenberry

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  What’s that line about never tell me the odds? Something like that?

  Jessica snorted, but smiled. “Copy, Lucille. Give me any urgent updates. I’ll let you fight the battle in orbit.”

  << My forces are at 53% combat effectiveness. The losses of the ships will seriously degrade the economic future of Victoria, but they have been invaluable in this offensive. I will stop them, Jessica.>>

  “Confirmed, Lucille. Take out the cruiser and get back to me. We’ve got a fight on our hands.” Jessica terminated the conversation and switched over to Tirr’s frequency. “Tirr? What’s going on?”

  Tirr’s voice replied a moment later. “We are getting ready to attack the MinSha flank and drive them into the main approach corridor, Jessica.”

  “What happened at the power plant?”

  “The MinSha warriors strapped large explosive devices to their backs, ones that could be detonated by a signal of some type. The CASPers were already searching the bodies when I got there. I recognized the threat, but...I was unable to save all of them.”

  Jessica bit her tongue. “You did what you could, Tirr. You’ve retained the initiative and you’re in position to keep the MinSha main effort where we want them. There’s nothing more you can do.”

  There was a soft sigh on the frequency. “Thank you, Jessica.”

  “When are you planning to move?” she asked, hoping to distract him with a change of subject.

  “As soon as their last dropships commit their forces. Once they’ve boosted for orbit, presumably for reinforcements, we’ll have the opportunity to roll their flank.”

  “Outstanding.” Jessica smiled. “Lucille estimates over 2,000 on the ground when all is said and done. I understand you have command of the flyers, too?”

  “Affirmative. They’re on their way back. I have a bit of a surprise planned for our enemy.” There was a levity in his voice that hadn’t been there a moment before. He was okay, Jessica decided. More importantly, Tirr knew what the plan was and how he could use his forces for maximum benefit.

  “Are you in contact with Thunder Six?” Jessica asked.

  “Working on it now,” Tirr replied. “I’m moving forward forces toward Sentinel now. There’s a risk the MinSha will see them and coordinate an attack in that direction, but I need eyes on the enemy.”

  Wait a second.

  “Tirr? If you were in command of their attack, what would you do?”

  “That’s not a fair question, Jessica. As a male MinSha, I would fight much differently than a female warrior would,” Tirr replied. “They will not hesitate to split their forces. Any threat to Sentinel will get an overwhelming response. If I put out a scouting party, it will draw them in that direction. With a split force, Thunder Six and I can hit them hard and push them back toward the main corridor about the same time the main effort hits your forward defenses. The MinSha will attempt to consolidate their forces, which will leave them open for attack from the rear.”

  Jessica considered his words. She, too, expected the MinSha to split their forces, but much closer to her defensive formations at the end of the valley. Tirr intended to split them early. The force he would face would be smaller than the main effort, which was a mark in his plan’s favor, but the main effort would not slow down. If Tirr was unsuccessful, the MinSha would reconsolidate their forces in the main corridor. Any significant delay there gave Commander Watson and his forces a chance to attack. A coordinated, synchronized attack might be enough to stop them, but it was clear Tirr didn’t intend for his attack to stop the split force.

  “You’re not sacrificing yourself and those troops, Tirr.” Jessica’s voice was thick with emotion.

  “I intend to win, Jessica. If I do not, though, there will be an opening for you and Commander Watson. That’s my assessment of what is about to happen, which is what you asked for. We are not sacrificing anything.”

  She knew he was right. She didn’t want to lose any more friends, but she knew why he chose that course of action. He could make a difference, and she understood that to the depth of her core. The troops with him and those that would join him from the air and the ground knew his plan. They were part of it, and they were right behind him. Regardless of the outcome, his actions and the mutual respect between Humans and MinSha would be strengthened in the next few minutes.

  Jessica took a deep breath. For a moment, she hesitated and fought a sudden rush of emotion in her chest. “Hit them hard, Tirr. Make every weapon count.”

  “Always, Peacemaker. Always.”

  Jessica watched the command board light up with the icons of the Liberty and Thunder elements. They moved in synch from behind cover. Captain Ibson kept his elements under cover, presumably at Tirr’s direction. Jessica nodded as she thought about it. Tirr would draw them in, see how many forces the MinSha split off, and engage. Once committed, the main effort would roll down the main corridor, and Ibson’s force could join the main effort or the fight at Sentinel. It was a brilliant plan with a chance of success much greater than she’d originally hoped.

  Jessica looked around the dimly-lit room and saw Commander Watson, alone, staring at a wide, horizontal Tri-V projection of the valley and the advancing forces therein. She walked across the room and stood beside him for a moment and considered the situation before them. Tirr’s forces were on the move toward Sentinel. Flyers from Rebel and Voodoo sections were airborne and loitering near the narrow sandstone spires that made up the valley’s southern wall. On cue, what appeared to be a battalion-sized element of MinSha skiffs broke off toward Sentinel. Two more followed behind them. She did the math and shook her head. They outnumbered Tirr four to one.

  She glanced at Watson and saw him staring intently at the position of Thunder Six. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Ibson. I know he knows what he’s doing, but he’s leaving us here to die, Peacemaker.” Watson frowned. He glanced at her. “We need to hit them here, with the bulk of our combat power, and not worry about wearing them down in the valley. They’re MinSha and they’re going to keep coming. If those ships get through up there, they’ll drop a few thousand more on us.”

  Jessica shook her head. “Focus, Watson.”

  “I am focused, but this whole damned thing is getting out of hand.” His voice rose in pitch and tone. Things weren’t going his way, and he seemed on the verge of a breakdown. His calm, efficient manner had vanished when the MinSha forces hit the ground.

  Thank Gods his staff isn’t here to see this.

  Watson continued, his voice rising enough to cause the few communications operators and soldiers in the room to their eyes toward the command dais. “I knew better than this! We need to pull everything back right now! You and your friend meant well, Peacemaker, but the real soldiers have to take charge of this situation and—”

  Jessica balled up her left fist and swung it fast and hard at the side of Watson’s face. She felt a brief explosion of pain as she followed through, but Jessica kept her balance and squared her feet, preparing for a counterpunch. Watson crumpled against the Tri-V display and fell to the floor. Shaking his head, he turned to her. The disbelief on his face melted into pure, hot anger.

  He snarled up at her. “You think that’s going to get my attention?”

  Jessica moved her right hand to the butt of her pistol but did not draw it. Watson followed her hand with his eyes, and some of the color drained from his face. When he looked up again, Jessica spoke very clearly. “You are the commander of these forces, Watson—the ones out there trying to win this fight. You helped build this plan, and your men and women have died on the field following that plan. Have faith that it’s working and press forward. If you don’t, you might as well lay down your arms, walk out there, and let the MinSha cut you to shreds.

  “Or, you can act like the competent commander you are, keep your head in the fight, and decide to kick some ass instead of sitting here whining about shit you can’t control. The choice is yours, Watson. What’s it going to be?”<
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  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Aboard the Flagship Flenaal

  Above Victoria Bravo

  Chinayl seethed at her command station. Warning lights and sirens sounded throughout her shattered ship as critical systems failed in rapid succession. With the external camera systems shredded, her view of the vacuum outside was a cracked, shivering image from the forward port side cameras near the weapons bays. Unable to swivel the camera, she stared at the image of her lead missile cruiser, Yilamaal, hanging in two distinct pieces a few kilometers away. Pieces of the Shendil-Ya had torn through Chinayl’s flagship. There was little she could do except seethe.

  The lights went out, then the emergency battle lanterns threw small beams of light into the sudden darkness on the bridge. After a few long moments, the emergency generators come on and some of the primary systems rebooted.

  “General. Engineering reports the failure of all power plants, two catastrophically. The chief engineer recommends we abandon ship.”

  Entropy. You lost control, Drehnayl, and they made you pay for it.

  Her eyes wandered to a view of the tactical ground situation, which had just come back up. On the display, small holographic images depicting her combat forces landed, formed into cohesive units, and proceeded up the wide valley floor toward Lovell City. The Humans clearly intended to make their defensive stand there, and as much as Chinayl wished she could eliminate them from orbit, the idea of being on the ground during the fight had promise.

  “Is my personal landing craft among the damaged?” Chinayl asked her adjutant. The small, female MinSha sat with her back to the general. She spun in her chair.

  “No, General. It’s fueled and ready in Bay One.”

  Chinayl looked again at the Flenaal. In the first minutes after the high-speed collision, she’d seen a few life pods drop away from the wreckage, but not very many. A new one, dropping away, caught her eyes. She followed it until its clearance burn took it outside the camera’s field of view.

  “Abandon ship,” Chinayl said softly. When no one moved, she raised her voice. “Abandon ship. Order my personal security teams to Bay One. Gods grant you passage to the hive, sisters.”

  Chinayl stood and released her harnesses. With a push off the floor, she spun and dug her claws into the movement loops along the vessel’s ceiling. Her adjutant looked up at her from the console. The youngling froze in fear, her antennae sagged in despair.

  Chinayl stared at her. “Get to the life pods.”

  The adjutant nodded in awkward affirmation. “Yes, General. What about you?”

  Chinayl chittered. “I am taking command of the surface fight. You will make my report to the council should I fail.”

  With a clear purpose and orders, the young adjutant’s antenna bounced upward, and her fear subsided. “Yes, General.”

  Chinayl crawled down the main passageway. Alarms sounded and MinSha worked their way through the thoroughfares calmly and clinically. They were well trained. As the MinSha crawled toward their tubes, Chinayl entered a wide, oblong passageway leading to the main drop hangars. At the door to Bay One, Chinayl changed direction and pushed away from the ceiling, catching a claw on the wide jamb. Changing her course and momentum, she spun toward the open end of her dropship. The craft’s hexagonal fuselage hung under a wide, thick wing with two massive, thrust-vectoring engines. Inside, she could see her six MinSha warriors, wearing heavy combat armor, checking their weapons in their strapped-down descent positions. Chinayl pushed lightly off the deck as she approached to adjust her course. As she entered the fuselage, she caught a ceiling-mounted loop and slowed to stop.

  “Launch. Set course for Lovell City,” Chinayl said over the radio as she crawled along the ceiling loops to the forward cockpit. The pilot powered up the ship’s engines, and it lifted from the deck. She ducked into the tight space and clambered to her seat. With a tap of forward thrusters, the dropship shot out of the bay and headed for the planet.

  Despite the distance, Chinayl could see smoke rising in large plumes from the surface. She tapped on her displays and attempted to connect with the forward force commanders. She could not make a viable connection. The debris, the planet’s atmosphere, or the possibility of jamming were all potential reasons for the failure.

  Once I’m on the field, it won’t matter.

  “Maximum speed,” she ordered. “If it rips the engines from this hulk, I don’t care. Get me to the surface as quickly as possible.”

  The command pilot did not turn around. “Estimated time of arrival is thirty-eight minutes. The damage to this vessel will be catastrophic if we attempt any faster speed.”

  Chinayl chittered. “You are on my crew because you were the best pilots in the academy. I suggest you prove it.”

  “Yes, General.” The command pilot advanced the thrusters, and the force drove Chinayl into her seat cushions. Using the unobstructed cameras on the dropship, she looked around. The Flenaal and the Timaal continued to take significant fire from the gathering fleet of Human vessels, and several had broken off to fire on the transports. None of them would survive much longer. She checked her slate and took some comfort in knowing that escape was still possible. The Flatar troop carrier had broken away from the fight and appeared to be on a course similar to hers, though much slower. On the command display, two Human vessels changed their orientation and pointed their noses at the dropship.

  “We’re being targeted by human vessels,” the command pilot reported a second later. “Prepare for evasive action.”

  “Just get me down to the surface.”

  “If you’d like to arrive in one piece, General, I respectfully ask you to keep your mouth closed and let us fly for the next five minutes. After that, we’ll either be space debris or on a course that will get us to the planet.”

  “You would speak to me that way?” Chinayl roared.

  “Given the options, yes.” The command pilot turned to look at her. “Your rank does not outweigh my authority as command pilot.”

  As the pilot turned her back, Chinayl felt fresh rage boiling through her body. She reared up and prepared to slash the pilot’s head from her body. She saw the command pilot enter a series of commands then yank on the steering column. With an audible gasp, Chinayl collapsed into her chair and watched in terror as the pilot turned the ship’s nose straight into the path of the approaching Human vessels.

  * * *

  The Spires

  Victoria Bravo

  “Rebel flight, standby,” Rath radioed her division of flyers. “Voodoo flight, once we break, you know the drill. Sweep to the south and come in behind the MinSha.”

  “Copy, Rebel Leader,” Mays replied.

  With the autopilot holding the flyer in a silent, low-power hover, Rath activated a small, autonomous, ducted-fan quadcopter and launched it. From her position below the four-hundred-foot-tall spire of red sandstone, she couldn’t see the MinSha forces splitting their attack forces in front of her. The small drone would be her eyes. Just to the north, she knew Mays was doing the same thing, but for a different purpose. She wanted to confirm what the rear of the flanking formation looked like, so she and her flyers could hit them directly at close range. Mays would use his drone to target the front elements of the main column to see if he could lead them into the minefields and tight spaces between the spire formations. It amounted to what they hoped would be a calculated bit of chaos among the approaching MinSha.

  She turned on the video feed from the drone and immediately identified the Sentinel in the middle of the valley floor. Beyond it, Tirr’s forces raced into the valley in two wide wedge formations with tanks leading the bounding CASPers. Closer in, the MinSha main effort raced to the east in a column five skiffs wide. There wasn’t any infantry marching—they were undoubtedly in the skiffs and would dismount the moment they encountered enemy fire. As she watched, the outer two rows pivoted toward Tirr’s forces. Two, four, six, and finally eight skiffs peeled away from th
e column and accelerated across the open plain toward the Sentinel. The tall spindle of rock stood atop the highest point in the mid-valley.

  Do the MinSha understand the concept of higher ground?

  Rath watched as the main column of MinSha pushed on, with only the eight skiffs moving toward Tirr’s counterattack. She did the math in her head. Eight combat skiffs carrying 20 infantry each amounted to 160 armored infantry. Tirr had less than a dozen CASPers and 14 tanks.

  Shit.

  With a series of taps, she brought the drone back to her platform and secured it in its hold. Flexing her fingers on the controls, she waited another ten seconds, trying to estimate how far east the MinSha main effort would be. Too close, she decided, and they’d rain anti-aircraft fire on her team before they could engage the rear of the enemy counterattack.

  Adjusting the power to the fans, she climbed. Hovering at the top of the spires, she saw the MinSha main effort five kilometers east and moving away. The forward elements of the MinSha counterattack lobbed missile fire toward Tirr’s forces. From what she could see, the friendly forces would reach the Sentinel first.

  Let’s give them time to dig in.

  “Up we go, Rebels,” she called into the radio. The other three flyers zoomed up to her level. Once clear of the rock formation, she pitched the nose of the flyer forward and raced toward the valley floor. The others fell into a fingertip formation, with one wingman off her left shoulder and two to her right. “Get down among ‘em. Weapons free.”

  With her left thumb, she selected five targets for her left missile pylon then did the same with her right. Eyes on the terrain ahead, ears listening for any indication of sensor sweeps, Rath flexed her fingers on the controls and tried to calm the adrenaline crashing through her system. Getting ahead of herself was not an option. Much like the fliers of Earth a few generations before listened for radar signatures, her defensive countermeasures were capable of discerning anything looking her way.