Goran smiled. Those missiles were a diversion. They would get within one light minute of his fleet and then self-destruct. He had the codes to set them off if something went wrong. He had to trust that Kerg was doing what he said he would. Otherwise, he might be letting a storm of offensive missiles through most of his counter basket before he did anything.
“Fire our answering volley. Full flush from every ship.”
“No wormhole launches?”
“No. We’re providing a diversion. The longer it takes to close the gap, the better.” Goran thought for a moment, then looked back at his tactical chief. “Set them for eight thousand gravities. We don’t want to make the dictator think we’re playing a game with him.”
“Launching,” called out the tactical officer after making the settings. The ship shook slightly from the recoil of sending hundred-ton missiles through the launch accelerators.
Now, we have to hope the humans can pull off the mission, he thought. If they didn’t, tens of thousands of humans and their allies would be killed, which would be nothing compared to the casualties among his people.
* * *
“Another flight of refugees is on the way up, sir.”
Wittmore sat back in his seat and looked over at the com officer. He would rather have been taking his own people off the planet, but the orders had come from the admiral. Get as many Gorganshans off the planet as possible. Which would amount to several tens of thousands, maybe a hundred thousand. Nothing compared to those who would be killed, though any lives saved were not a wasted effort.
Meanwhile, the Imperial troops that were not involved with one of the missions were on the move, using their suits and grabber units to fly at hundreds of kilometers per hour away from the blast area. If they were three hundred kilometers or more from ground zero, they would most likely survive in their heavy armor suits. Wittmore still would have preferred to have them off planet, or at least on another continent. He didn’t have orders to do that, so he was doing what he could.
“Colonel Walborski reports he’s on site and moving in.”
That was the hope. If Walborski could disable the reactor, while at the same time safeguarding the antimatter stores, then the refugee lift would have been wasted effort, but one that no one would take issue with. Could he do it? He had pulled off the impossible in the past, including saving the Donut from Ca’cadasan infiltration parties.
“He’s going com black now.”
Wittmore said nothing, again just nodding. Rangers went in without any kind of active electronic emissions. No coms, no active cammo, not even energy weapons. Even their basic implants were powered down. Their weapons were all chemically powered. There was almost nothing that could be traced. Body heat, but then their passive cammo clothing and the new plastic/carbon fiber armor held in a lot of that heat. Something it couldn’t do for too long, lest it injure the wearer.
He would hear from Walborski when he called up to report success. If he failed, the massive multi-gigaton explosion would mark the event, and no one would be talking to Walborski again this side of the afterlife.
* * *
Walborski looked at the two men ahead of him, moving in almost perfect silence down the corridor, hugging the wall. His own enhanced vision showed him the expressions of one man’s face as he looked back and flashed a hand signal.
Two more Rangers moved up quickly, faster than a jog, though not quite a sprint. They passed the other pair and moved twenty meters ahead, taking a knee and scanning the corridor ahead. Everything was well lit, leaving little in the way of shadows to hide in. The colonel didn’t like that, but it was better than having motion detection lighting, which would show an opponent that something was coming.
The passive cammo covering of the men blended them in with the corridor, nanotech in the cloth matching the colors and patterns of everything around them. It also held in body heat, making the Rangers difficult to detect on infrared and other heat sensing equipment. Not impossible, and anyone giving the soldiers a good long look would detect them. But anyone just glancing their way might miss them. On this mission they also wore the new plastic/carbon nanotube armor under their cammo. The armor would protect them from anything short of a full impact by a very high velocity round, and even a second or so of laser or particle beam exposure. Massing less than ten kilos over the entire body covering, it was also as flexible as cloth until it was hit.
Cornelius moved up with his selected partner, a young sergeant by the name of Nuwalt. He liked the way the young man moved, and was confident he was covered as well as possible. The colonel would have preferred to actually be the first man in, but he had been told in no uncertain terms from above that he was forbidden to do that. Of course, they had said nothing about being in the third pair to move in. And the men in the first two teams were among the best he had ever seen.
The pair ahead moved, then stopped in place before they moved past those in front. Hands flashed, sending back information. Cornelius sent his own signals back, then flashed orders to those in front. The first of the guard detail had been detected, and now the real mission had begun.
I wonder how the control room assault is going? he thought, moving up in a crouch. There was no way he could know until they actually took that room and sent a messenger. No one was allowed to bring up any com equipment until the colonel had reports that both sides of the operation were over. Even if the control room was taken, that didn’t mean some idiot couldn’t breach the antimatter on this end.
Hell, someone with a heavy particle beam could blast through the armored containers and the internal magnetic fields in seconds. The containers were tough, made so that it was all but impossible for an accidental breach to occur. The containers were held in chambers with enough armor to stand up to the fire of a warship in orbit, with a score of meters of material girding the chambers.
Of course, if one container breached, all of the others would follow, and the twenty-meter-thick armor of the chamber would be blasted to plasma as the blast wave rolled out and obliterated everything for thousands of kilometers in every direction.
There was also the problem of the antimatter that was already in use, the cylinder attached to the magnetic feed of the reactor and that in the reactor chamber itself. If that breached it would be bad, but unlikely to destroy the storage depot.
Still don’t want that to happen, thought the colonel as he moved up to join with the second team.
The first team was still moving, slowly, silently, monomolecular blades in their hands. There were two guards up ahead, leaning against machinery, rifles slung over shoulders. The Gorgansha looked bored, not really in the game. That was normal in most species. Guards couldn’t keep their alert level up for long. While the attackers were always totally into the moment.
The two Rangers were up on their feet and charging forward, moving much faster than any unaugmented living beings. The guards started to turn, one opening his mouth to shout out a warning. That warning died as the monomolecular blade sliced through his throat and ended his life in a gout of blood. His partner had barely moved before a blade was thrust into his own throat. The Ranger moved it quickly in an out, seven stabs in less than a second, and the alien was sliding toward the ground, its body gently lowered by the strong arms of the augmented soldier. The bodies were quickly pulled out of sight behind some of the machinery.
Cornelius knelt up by the first team, the second and his wing-man with him, all six giving the chamber ahead a good scan. The colonel looked back and flashed hand signals, and a full squad of Rangers ran forward on cat’s feet.
There were a good dozen of the aliens ahead, scattered about the large chamber. One door was marked with symbols that the Rangers had been told to expect. The symbol for radiation. There was a large window along that wall, looking out over the chamber. It looked like the local control room, where it was thought that one of the detonators was located. The heavy door by the symbol had to lead to the reactor. Which meant the door on th
e other side of the window must lead to the storage facility.
Cornelius gestured, and the squad dropped to prone positions and started picking out targets in their scopes. He shook his head and gestured again as he saw a door open on a side wall and more Gorganshans come out. This was not good. If that was a guard room, there was no telling how many soldiers were in it. He flashed hand signals back while he brought the schematic for the place up in his memory. That door led to a corridor that had several large rooms along its side. The corridor led to stairs that rose up to a security station that opened on the outside world. He continued sending back his orders, relayed from team to team, finally reaching outside the complex and around the mountain to where his third company was deployed, ready and waiting.
He looked back at his riflemen and nodded. They would know what the signal was, and all nodded back to indicate they were ready.
An explosion rumbled through the rock of the mountain, shaking the machinery, knocking down boxes. A few of the Gorgansha fell onto the floor, looking around in confusion. His men fired, chemically powered weapons sending explosive rounds out to lodge in the bodies of the defenders just before detonating. Any being hit by the bullets died, bleeding out quickly if not instantly killed.
Another rumble ran through the rock, this from above, and Cornelius wondered if the company up there had attacked because they were ready, or because they had detected the explosion from below. No matter, they all needed to move quickly if this thing was to be concluded without a multi-gigaton blast.
* * *
Captain Gunnar Thorswald had all of his men in position. They were hidden behind the rocks outside the control chamber. The chamber was really a complex, perched on supports on the side of the mountain. Numerous Gorgansha soldiers were standing watch outside, alert for any kind of attack. There had been others down the paths leading up to this point. Those had been taken care of, quickly and silently. That left the captain with a concern. When were they scheduled to report in, because when they didn’t, the enemy would know that something was up?
Gunnar knelt behind cover, watching his scouts as they scanned the complex ahead. One flashed a hand signal to him, fingers moving in the complex patterns that all of the Rangers knew.
Shit, he thought, near panic running through him. The enemy was sending a patrol out. They must have noted that their men had missed a com check and hadn’t return their transmission. If he retreated from his forward positions, they wouldn’t be ready to attack. He frantically flashed signals, then pumped a fist in the air.
The Rangers came up over the rocks they had been hiding behind, weapons chattering as they sent bursts of explosive rounds into the Gorgansha. Some returned fire, the few that weren’t cut down, and more started coming out of the building. A pair of Rangers sent chemically propelled rockets into the building, their powerful warheads blasting through and into the chambers inside.
“All troops. Attack,” yelled Thorswald, jumping up and leading the charge. A hundred and sixty Rangers jumped to their feet and charged, sprinting full out toward the building. Laser and particle beams, the organic defenses of the complex, opened up, sweeping across the open area. The Rangers were fast, moving, dodging and firing as they advanced. They couldn’t dodge beam weapons that swept across, and scores fell before they had gotten halfway to the building. Some of those would be okay, their new armor taking the brunt of the energy. Some wouldn't. Rockets and grenades reached out, destroying the beam weapon emplacements. The Rangers soon reached the breaches their rockets had made, and the men swarmed into the building.
“They’ve blocked the entrance into the control room, sir,” called out one of the NCOs. “A heavy door and lots of Gorganshans. We’re pinned down.”
“Hit the door with rockets, then charge them,” yelled the captain, jumping to his feet. He didn’t like giving that order, but they had to get in, and fast, or this part of the mission was a bust. The colonel might still win the day down below, but Thorswald had no control over that part of the operation. All he could do was win his fight, and hope it was enough.
* * *
The Rangers charged ahead, Cornelius in the lead, weapons chattering as they fired bursts that took down Gorganshans in an instant. The bright flashes of blinding explosions flared around the chamber, while rockets hit the thick glass window of the control room and blasted inward, sending flares of plasma into the room.
Gorgansha in battle armor now made their appearance, coming from the door that led to the guard room on the schematic. A dozen, two, came through the door. Explosions sounded on the other side and the influx of soldiers stopped. The colonel was sure that the company approaching from that side had hit them now, and whatever was still there had its hands full.
Battle suits were bad news. Those men were stronger in their armor than the augmented soldiers they faced. Unfortunately for them, the Rangers were still faster and more agile. In fact, the suits, not up to the technical standards of Imperial armor, slowed their wearers down and degraded what little agility they had. The Rangers had little trouble staying out of arms reach, and monomolecular blades had little trouble penetrating. As did explosive shells that acted as shape charges when they struck hard armor.
Cornelius lost men. That was a given in this kind of fight. The Gorgansha lost five for every one of his taken down, and soon there were no more opponents. The only thing remaining was the reactor and the antimatter. If those were detonated the rest of the battle didn’t matter.
“Everyone fan out. Smash everything that looks like it’s powered. Pull out any wires or cables. And find that storage depot.”
The men didn’t hesitate. All knew their leaders, or those who had stepped into the positions if the primary had been lost. A squad headed into the control room. Two more headed through the door to the reactor. And one headed through the entrance they thought led to the storage depot. The rest fanned out and covered every exit from the room, not taking chances that they might miss the prize due to overlooking it.
Captain Xee led his men out of the corridor leading to the guard room. The captain ran up to the colonel, giving a quick hand wave that passed for a salute in the Rangers.
“We’ve taken care of all of them in that side of the complex, sir. Most are dead, a few surrendered, but there are none left under arms.”
“And your losses?”
“I got hurt,” said the grimacing officer. “Not as bad as it could be, but they had some emplacements that took out some of my men.”
Cornelius patted the officer on the shoulder. Rangers were closer to their men than most other unit leaders, part of being in a tight knit unit where everyone depended on the others. No one liked losing men, but it wasn’t the responsibility of commanders to keep them all alive. No, it was their responsibility to spend their lives well to accomplish the mission. He was sure that Xee had done that.
“Get your men searching. We need to make sure there’s nothing here that can detonate the antimatter.”
He looked over to see the two Fleet lt. commanders come running into the room with the squad assigned as their escorts.
“Gentlemen. I want one of you to look after the reactor. Make sure that nothing is set to breach the antimatter. The other one needs to go into the depot and check it out.”
The two men saluted in the formal Fleet manner and took off, a fire team with each for protection.
“And we’re now com hot,” he shouted out, giving his people permission to activate their cold communications units and the implants that fed into them. It’s not like they don’t know that we’re here.
“You need to see this, Colonel,” came the voice of one of the Fleet engineers over the com. “In the depot.”
“Coming,” replied Cornelius, taking off in a full run. “How’s the reactor look?” he asked into the com.
“I think it’s good,” replied the other Fleet engineer. “I’ve shut it down and set the mag field to suck the antimatter back into the feed container. There’s
nothing on the container that looks like it could blow through it.”
“That looks like?” asked Cornelius, wanting the officer to be sure, since their lives might depend on it.
“I’m scanning now,” said the naval officer, “but it looks like all of the electronics are there to regulate the flow and the magnetic fields. I’ve hooked up a secondary system to make sure the field doesn’t just fall.”
“Good enough.” Cornelius came to a stop outside the storage depot.
A massive door was open, slid into the chamber and then to the side. It was twenty meters thick, same as the walls of the chamber. Twenty meters of empty space led into the room, then forty-one containers, spheres five meters in diameter with square boxes that must have contained power supplies and electronics. Attached to the ten spheres on the top of the stack were other boxes, with blinking lights showing that they were active.
“Are those what I think they are?” asked Cornelius, feeling like his testicles were about to shrink into his body.
“They’re shape charges, sir,” said the naval officer, nodding, pupils dilated with fear. “If any one of them goes off, it’s going to breach all of them.”
“Shit.” Cornelius looked over the mass of spheres with wide eyes.
Each contained a relatively small amount of antimatter, if a hundred megatons of explosive power could be considered small. Why in the hell do I keep letting myself get so close to these things? he thought, shaking his head. The quarkium device he had helped disarm on the Donut was bad enough, but he had been thrown into that mission on the fly, with no time to think about it. He had the time to consider coming on this one, and he had made the same stupid mistake he had so many times in the past. He just couldn’t turn Sean down, and one day it was going to kill him. Maybe today.
“What have you done so far?”
“We have a couple of jammers set up to block any transmissions. And we’ve pulled any wires that led into the boxes.”
“Wasn’t that risky?” asked Cornelius, his hackles rising, a dribble of sweat rolling down his forehead.
The Code Page 32
