by Jack Colrain
“While we work on that, our ground troops and air support will be establishing beachheads at various locations around the planet. This is partly so we might establish a colony afterwards, but mainly....” He couldn’t even believe it himself, as he said it. “Mainly, they’re all coming—the whole invasion force—to draw Gresian fire away from us and our mission.”
A chorus of disbelieving and awed exclamations rippled through the room, though the wide eyes and open mouths of the Hardcases and their pilots would have said more than enough on their own. “The intent,” Daniel continued, “is to draw the bulk of the Gresian defense forces into a prolonged engagement. If things go to plan,” he went on, all too aware of the military truism that no battle plan ever survived first contact with the enemy, and uncomfortably sure that he was jinxing the mission just by saying anything about it, “with any luck, anyway, we should have a relatively hassle-free day. In and out, kill the Gresians, and take a gate home.” He knew it wouldn’t be that easy, of course; it never was in real life. “If shit goes south, the invasion will proceed in any case, as planet Firebird is a vital strategic location which we’d need to take early in a protracted war anyway.”
He paused for another sip of water. “Anybody have any questions?”
Bella Torres, Hope’s co-pilot, raised a hand. “If this is a Gresian-controlled system, they must control gateway access to it. How are we going to get from the closest available gateway there without being detected at long range, and how long a trip will it be?”
“The Gresians don’t quite control the gateway there,” Daniel answered. “They merely think they do. The Shaldine data included a bunch of technical stuff about the nature of the gateways’ operating system. Analysis of that led to the discovery of an emergency setting hardwired into the gateways that allows any gateway to be to remotely taken over. Basically, a backdoor left in by the Shaldine engineers so they could maintain the system even if the regular OS went down. I’m no expert, so I can’t say anything more than ‘witchcraft happens inside the gateway generator,’ but General Carver says they tested the theory out on a couple of other systems and it works just fine.”
Marty Beswick, the former Royal Marine, next asked, “If this Shaldine facility is still intact on a Gresian planet, why do we think they don’t know about it?”
“If I may,” Professor Wilson said quietly, looking at Daniel with puppy-dog eyes. Daniel groaned inwardly, but nodded. “According to the Shaldine data, it was buried and built over centuries before the Gresians existed. We know the Gresians treat Shaldine ruins as sites of historical or religious interest and refuse to tamper with them. Also, high-orbital drone scans show that the facility still exists and is tapped into a geothermal power source, but that there’s no activity on the part of the Gresians beyond visiting the surface ruins. Imagine if there were a huge power source on Earth, but hundreds of meters below an old medieval castle? This is a similar situation.”
“And, of course,” Daniel added, “we have data now on how the Gresians defend and run their active military and industrial sites, and this location seems to have very little of the security forces or defensive structures that active modern Gresian sites of strategic interest do.”
“Are we likely to run into guardian-caste Gresians again?” Svoboda asked.
Daniel shook his head. “No, those are specific to Lyonesse, where the whole world is sacred to them. This planet is defended by regular Gresian troops.”
“So, what can we expect from regular Gresian military opposition, on the ground and during the drop?” Erik Palmer wanted to know.
Daniel only wished he knew specifics for certain.
He answered, “You can expect a well-entrenched, well-motivated enemy. They are defending their home ground, after all. The Gresians have their versions of Exo-suits with limited stealth ability, and they carry projected energy weapons and grenades and missile launchers. They’ll have local air traffic and presumably a wet navy. Intelligence is limited because we can’t just sneak in and wander around dressed as Gresians.” There were some chuckles at that. “Space Command managed to sneak some drones into the system and are monitoring Gresian ships in orbit. The orbital approaches are defended, but not heavily. They have a couple of cruisers, some orbital defense platforms, and several fighter squadrons launchable from the ground.”
Cole raised a hand. “What about ground vehicles and emplacements?”
“They have those, and military bases, just as we do. The closest military area to our target appears to be some kind of training center for their equivalent of infantrymen.” He paused. “The key thing with all of this is going to be speed. This has to be a modern Blitzkreig.
There were approving nods as Daniel continued, “On the ground, the divisional strategy is to hit the Gresians with such overwhelming force that they’re unable to respond. Based on what the drone intel shows, we might not have too many problems. That said… let’s not assume anything. You know what they say: To assume is to make an ass out of u and me.”
Daniel was about to dismiss the troops when the briefing room door opened once more and Colonel Barnett entered. Everyone leapt to attention and saluted, but Barnett waved them back to their seats. “Lieutenant West, I hope you won’t mind if I exploit the fact that you’ve already gathered your platoon here, by giving a little bit of additional briefing?”
Daniel was only half-surprised, and he stepped aside. “Be my guest, sir.”
“Thanks.” Barnett glanced at the imagery on the monitors, then turned back to the Hardcases. “As I’m sure Lieutenant West has already explained, most of our ground assault phase is, in essence, a massive diversion. To both be convincing and actually keep them occupied, it has to be a large enough assault in the right places to ensure that they absolutely have to respond and defend.”
“Is it going to be cost-effective, in terms of resources and men?” Doug Wilson asked mildly.
“Probably not, by regular terrestrial warfare standards, but this is a straight-up succeed or fail mission to end the Gresians, so it’s probably not going to be resource-effective as an actual invade and occupy show, but when it comes to eliminating the Gresian threat overall, it will be.” Barnett looked at the pilots. “This is going to be a tricky one for you, especially, but I know you’re up to the challenge. We’re going to launch attack flights as soon as we jump into the system in order to disable their orbital defenses, especially their asteroid defenses, and tie up any fighters they launch. Second, we meteor-bomb these three launch and control complexes to keep any ships from taking off to engage us. Next, we start putting boots on the ground in these three sectors to secure transport hubs and power generation facilities.”
“They’re pretty close to the impact sites,” Hope said, though her tone was more one of explaining details to the soldiers than asking any question.
Barnett nodded. “Our LCM ships will encounter smoke and dust from the orbital bombardment, and that’s key to your team’s approach. Your transports will be in the middle of the invasion transports and under heavy fighter escort. Once into the dust cloud and below their orbital sensors, you’ll alter course for the Shaldine complex. The Gresians should be too concerned about the concentration of troop transports landing at these areas to worry about whether a couple of ships went astray. And Captain Ying and her pilots will get you there safely. Any questions?”
Marty Beswick put his hand up, and Barnett nodded to him to go ahead. “We have Mozari mass-driver technology, right? So, why don’t we just smack a nickel-iron meteor into the Shaldine complex? That’d end any chance of the Gresians’ using it PDQ.”
Barnett chuckled. “Because all we’d have done would be to break a light switch while the lights were still on. We need to switch them off first, and for that to happen, we need to access the complex while it’s operational, so we can make use of it.”
“Fair enough, guv.”
“Any more questions?” Nobody raised a hand, so Barnett returned the brief
ing to Daniel, who gave the platoon a curt nod. “That being the case, we’ll be dropping tomorrow morning at six zulu time. Get a good night’s sleep while you can; we’re all going to need it tomorrow. Dismissed.”
Outside, Doug Wilson was waiting for Daniel, and he dropped into step beside him. Daniel found that he didn’t mind that as much as he would have expected; the guy was still annoying, but considering that most of the operational planning for this mission had been based on his work, Daniel could go along with him—up to a point. They were, at least technically, on the same side, after all.
“Lieutenant West.”
“Professor.”
“Your briefing was quite informative and effective,” Wilson said crisply, with a surprising tone of approval.
“I hope so.”
“I don’t think you need worry. You have their respect and confidence, and it is deserved.”
Daniel looked sidelong at him. “Thanks. But I doubt you were waiting outside the stage door for an autograph.”
“No, sadly. I wanted to sound out whether you had given any more thought to our conversations of a couple days ago.”
“About the Gresians?”
“About the solution, so to speak, to our Gresian problem, and the possibly less… less final alternatives. Have you reconsidered that conversation?”
“Well, I haven’t punched you or had charges drawn up,” Daniel said bluntly. “Alternative solutions to a problem are one thing, but alternatives to solving a problem… that’s something else.”
Wilson grunted. “It’s the former that I’m thinking about. Given our shared experiences on the Lyonesse colony, it’s not as if I don’t view the Gresian threat as a problem.”
“Good,” Daniel snapped. “Remember, our mission—our orders—are to end that threat. If you’re asking me to contravene those orders, or telling me that you’re going to go off-reservation by refusing your or my orders, then… that would be a problem.”
“I appreciate your devotion to obeying orders, and might remind you that just because something’s an order passed down the chain of command, that doesn’t make it correct, or necessarily legal. After Lyonesse, you of all people should be aware of that.
“I’m aware of that,” Daniel muttered, slightly stung; a wound reopened. It was something he thought about every day. “Our current orders are legal. Remember that we—and here I mean humanity—never asked for this fight. The Gresians brought this war on themselves.” They walked a few steps in silence for a moment, Daniel just wanting to be free of the man. “Look,” he said at last, “I know you don’t like it. Nobody likes being in a war, and we’ve gone through too much to bullshit each other about the morality of war. If you really can’t face following our orders, and really want to be out from under them, then you need to talk to Colonel Barnett now, before there’s a big problem that will cause trouble for both yourself and the success of the mission, or the safety of our people. Because endangering the safety of our people will be a big problem between us. Again.”
“As if talking to the colonel would make a difference. I don’t believe you’ll find he has much say in our operational orders, Lieutenant.”
That was true enough, Daniel knew. “He’s a good man; he’ll listen and sort something out for you, if anything can be sorted.”
Wilson shrugged “He’s a communications channel between your senior officers and you, not a key decision-maker. Believe me, I’ve been working with those who are the key decision-makers.”
“Maybe you should have brought this issue up with them.”
“Maybe I did.” Wilson hesitated. “I understand the concept of orders, Daniel, and joined this mission with my eyes open. I’m just saying… I’m saying that I’ll go along with the plan, but I do not like it, and happen to believe that there are more desirable variances. Which I believe still fall well within the remit of the orders we have.”
“The spirit rather than the letter of the law?”
“Something like that.”
“That’s a dangerous game to play,” Daniel warned.
“Say you, to the one unarmed man going on the mission,” Wilson replied, with a glint in his eye.
Daniel stopped, but Wilson continued on his way.
Ten
UES Sydney, Beyond Saturn
The rest of the fleet ought, Daniel felt, to be an impressive sight, like something out of Star Wars or at least old newsreels of World War 2 fleets on the way to D-Day or Midway. There was no sign of the other ships, however, as they were all dozens if not hundreds of kilometers apart, too far away to see.
Daniel was on the Sydney’s flight deck, looking out through the energy shield that kept the atmosphere where it belonged. This morning, the flight deck was busier and noisier than it had been when he and Hope had been introduced to the Big Mike suits. Hangar doors along both sides of the vast space were open to allow for the boarding of fighters, shuttles, and landing craft. Squads of Marine, Ranger, and infantry units carrying full packs and battlefield load-outs were jogging to their shuttle hangars as Daniel threaded his way through to the hangar bay in which sat the Mike Boats, whose name had little to do with the Big Mike suits beyond the fact that Mike was the NATO call sign for the letter M, and both things were “M” for “Mechanized” variants of their type; Landing Craft (Mechanized), or LCM, and the mechanized Exo-suit variants.
There was a lot more engine noise today, from both spacecraft and wheeled vehicles. The Mike Boats were larger than the normal Mozari-derived shuttles, designed specifically for landing both troops and heavy equipment and vehicles from orbit. The Hardcases’ upscaled dwarf-star Bradleys were rolling into an LCM each while Cole and Stewart walked their respective Big Mike suits in behind them.
The other six LCMs had their hatches open, with units of troops marching in along with ATVs, bikes, and one or two regular Bradley AFVs that were trundling aboard. Daniel had passed several hangars on the way to where he stood now, each filled with shuttles and LCMs being boarded by troops with full packs and gear.
Alpha Team strapped themselves into fold-down seats along the walls of the LCM, facing inwards at their AFV and Big Mike. The LCM was large enough that there was plenty of room for Daniel to proceed forward through the hold without stepping on anybody’s feet even though he, like the others, was wearing plenty of pouches and gear strapped to him. They all wore their Exo-suits under their camouflaged digies.
The Sydney’s flight control officer was audible over the comms as Daniel reached the cockpit and dropped into the jump-seat behind Bella Torres, who sat in the co-pilot’s seat. Hope was already talking to Flight Control while spooling up the engines. “We ready to rock and roll?” Daniel asked.
“We’re done with pre-flight, if that’s what you mean,” Hope replied.
“What happens after you drop us off? This LCM isn’t going to give much air support.”
Hope grimaced, releasing a wave of dissatisfaction. “Bella and I will help you off-load your transport and Big Mike. Then my orders are to return to the Sydney and have this ship reconfigured for extra troop seats, after which I’m supposed to ferry infantrymen to whichever landing zone your Colonel Barnett orders.”
“Supposed to?” Daniel was surprised, having thought she’d surely be flying air cover in a fighter.
“While the reconfiguration is going on, I want to persuade them to let me fly a fighter. That’s what I’m trained for and where I’d be most useful. They know my record from the battle of Lyonesse, and Bella is more than capable of handling the drops.”
“Ours not to reason why, or some such bullshit. Those aren’t fair orders.”
‘You’re telling me,’ Hope thought, and then said aloud, “But they are orders, and this is the job to which we’ve been assigned. I’m not going to disobey, but I’m going to try damn hard to persuade them that, yes, a woman can be an experienced fighter pilot, and if she is, you should be making the best strategic use of her skills and abilities.”
�
��I’ll pass along as strong a suggestion as I can,” Daniel promised, offended on her behalf.
“It’s too late for that, I fear, but thank you.” She turned back to her preflight checklist, leaving Daniel to try to force himself to relax, which was of course an unachievable paradox. Doug Wilson, he saw, was in the nearest seat to him, just outside the cockpit door. Daniel noticed his eyes were closed, and at first thought the man was dozing during the wait. Daniel wouldn’t have blamed him for that, as it was a dull time for passengers on board, and in fact he was just about to envy the man when he noticed that Wilson’s lips were moving slightly. No sounds were coming out, but he was muttering something to himself, and Daniel suddenly realized he was more likely praying than dozing. He hadn’t pegged Wilson for a religious type, but he had read something once about a propensity for religion or belief being hardwired into the human brain, so maybe that was true. If that was Wilson’s way of coping with the stress of going into danger, Daniel figured, then it probably wasn’t a bad thing to do right now.
After fifteen or twenty minutes, just when Daniel was starting to feel that the seat was burning his ass, getting desperate to move instead of being tortured by sitting there endlessly, Sergeant Kate Kinsella’s cropped blonde head leaned in through the door. “Sir, that’s our full complement and load-out aboard. Everything and everyone is locked down and ready to go.”
“Good. Best strap yourself in; it shouldn’t be long until launch.” He didn’t add that he felt he’d been waiting too long already, but Hope glanced at him with a shrug in response to the thought. Daniel got on the comms to the Hardcases’ other Mike Boat. “Sergeant Palmer, we’re locked and loaded, ready for a go or no-go. Sit-rep your end?”
“All bodies and equipment stowed and ready here, sir,” Erik Palmer’s voice came back. “Ready for go or no-go.”
