Talosian Chronicles 6: Armageddon

by Ben Winston

  "Have the fleets gotten repositioned yet?" Almas asked. "We could really use their help."

  "Targeting warnings on seven of the ten Light Cruisers! Condors and fighters are break off!" The ops officer suddenly said as he read quickly. "Sir! It's the Terra!"

  As Almas and her staff watched, several of the icons for the enemy ships suddenly turned yellow indicating heavy damage. Four of the ships turned red and faded out indicating total destruction. The remaining three followed suit seconds later.

  "Sorry it took us so long, mates! We got in a bit of a tiff with an Imperial that was insistent blowing up Mars. Anyway, we heard you had a pest problem, so we came to see if we could help," A man speaking with an Australian accent and wearing the uniform armor and rank of a senior Commander said. "We'd get the rest of them for you as well, but they are too close to the planet to risk a missed shot. So, if you'll excuse us, there are more of these miscreants to educate."

  "Jesus! They took out seven light cruisers in under a minute and a half!" the ops officer said.

  "TDF Terra is a tactical battleship. Basically, it's a heavily armed and armored fortress with engines," Denise replied. "A light cruiser is little more than a large fighter to that monster."

  "Well, that monster just saved our back-sides. Ops, get our people on those remaining cruisers. With the Terra in the neighborhood, our odds just got considerably better," Almas ordered.

  "The rest of the Guards just arrived in orbit and are launching fighters. Tiamat is returning to position and has recalled her escorts. Star Dancer and several other capitol ships are taking position over the south polar region. Sir, I'd say we're getting close to the final battle here," the Ops officer reported.

  Almas nodded. "Yes, it would appear that is the case. If the fleet can move that much fire power to Earth, what of the other installations in the system?"

  The Ops officer typed in a request on his tablet. "Mars is still under attack, but is being defended by one of the Alliance fleets. The civilian space facility there has been destroyed. Selene and Phoenix Base are currently holding their own without assistance, and report only moderate damage so far." He typed in another request.

  "Centauri system has faired a little better. Atlas has suffered only environmental damage do far, with no loss of life, however, there are a lot of wounded. All of the Pleiades stations have taken damage, except for Station III; there is another of the tactical battleships being built there. It's still far from finished, but her weapons are active on station power. Pleiades II and IV report heavy casualties; It looks like they suffered a decompression event when the stations were breached. A flaw in the design prevented some of the airtight doors from closing during the emergency." He continued to look through the reports.

  "I can't get specific details, but we have lost thirty-six percent of our total forces in space and a total of twenty-nine percent of planetary and ground forces. The good news is that the Empire has lost almost fifty percent of their attacking force; however, it does say that the 'religious' fleet is not counted in that total." He paused and grinned. "The only remaining Caldarian forces are scattered and without over-all leadership. All the Caldarian capital ships have been destroyed. Raptor teams from Hades Base managed to board and secure three slave transport ships, rescuing a total of eight thousand, six hundred and twenty-seven humans. They also recovered the bodies of several hundred more that had died from various causes while the fleet had been in transit. Apparently the crew simply had not gotten around to jettisoning the bodies. The rescued people have been taken to the medical facilities on Atlas for evaluation and treatment," he finished.

  Almas nodded. "That is indeed good news, but I cannot help but wonder how many others were lost in the destruction of the other ships." When she saw the reactions of her officers, she explained. "That is the fault of the Caldarians and not our people. We were not given a choice in their destruction; and the rescue of those people was not remotely possible."

  Arlen nodded. "Yeah, by forcing those people on a warship, the Caldarians are the ones responsible for their deaths. Our people had no choice, and should not be held accountable. Caldarians hold no value for a life not of their own race. They would not think twice about killing a million humans to save even a dozen of their own."

  Almas smiled sadly at him and nodded her agreement. She knew that he had no direct knowledge of the Caldarian race and was basing his opinion on the information he had been given. However, he also knew that he needed to support what Almas had said for the benefit of the people in the room.

  "It is a hard mentality to understand, and one that most of us would consider to be truly evil, yet to them, it is simply the way things are," the Ops officer added. "Evil or not, they had to be stopped as quickly as possible. We're going to have to hunt down the remaining pockets and deal with them before they can harm anyone else."

  "You give me a location, and I'll drop a bunch of very unhappy Marines on them. I'm am certain they will adequately convey our displeasure at their treatment of our fellow citizens," Bill replied with a half grin.

  The Ops officer grinned back, but turned slightly. "Hey Riley, why don't you lend the Colonel a hand locating the rest of our uninvited guests?"

  "Sure thing!" the young soldier replied. He grabbed his tablet and moved over to stand next to the Colonel. Very shortly, the two men were engrossed in a quiet planning session for the Marines under Bill's command.

  Almas and Arlen had no more than gotten back to work on getting rid of the last few light cruisers when Bill and his new friend moved over to the Operations officer. After a short discussion, the ops officer looked up at Almas and Arlen. "Excuse me Sirs, but we have a small problem. I would like your permission to contact one of the ships to request assistance."

  "What's the problem?" Almas asked.

  "One of our pilots was forced to bail out by the computer at low altitude. She was wounded but rescued by some local civilians. She reports that a Caldarian transport has landed near them and has started rounding up the local population. Apparently, they are in an area that didn't have a lot of shelters," the officer replied. "She is being well treated, but shares the concern of her rescuers that the people in that area are in considerable danger from the Caldarians. The problem is, we have nothing left we can send to help them. All of our troops are on equally as important missions."

  Almas looked thoughtful. "You can ask them, but keep in mind they gave up most of their Marines already. It was my understanding that they kept only enough on board to repel boarders."

  "Thank you, we'll see what we can scare up," the man replied and nodded to Riley.

  They finally got help, but from Phoenix Base, not the ships. They got three FROGs, four hover-rails, two construction drones and squad of Marines to train the locals. They also got a small replicator and a computer control module for the drones and replicator. It wasn't much, but it would prove to be enough.

  Mare Imbrium

  (Sea of Showers)

  Selene, Earth's Moon

  Sol System

  “Dasher four, this is Command. We are tracking Imperial ships entering your area. It reads as a troop transport and escorts. Please confirm.”

  “Command, this is Dasher One, We got nothing on the scope at the moment, could you give us a vector?” Lieutenant Paula Berg asked, as she glanced at the empty screen to her right. There was a ridge to the right that would cause a scanner shadow. "Smith, stick your sensors over that ridge and see if you can spot them."

  “One-zero-eight degrees reference your position. At roughly two hundred meters up and seventy klicks downrange, it’s on course for the base,” Command reported.

  Paula noted that the ship’s course would take it almost right over the top of her squad. “Stand by command, we’ve got a ridge shadowing that area. We're taking a look.” As a precaution, she ordered the rest of her five 'man' squad of FROGs to get closer to the ridge. Private Smith in Dasher Four was almost at the top. As soon as he stuck the drone's hea
d over the edge, her screens showed the targets closing in fast.

  “Command! We have three inbound targets: one transport and two Imperial heavy fighters. The fighters are tucked in close to the transport. They’re carrying nukes! Please advise.”

  “Dasher One, engage on your own discretion. We’re diverting a flight of fighters to you but you’re going to need to slow them down," Command ordered.

  Paula swore silently. "Listen up kids, we have to keep those assholes busy until our fighters can get over here. Spread out and set up a skirmish line along the ridge and engage as soon as they're in range. Remember, fire and move! Those fighters will take us out faster than you can say 'oh shit!"

  "What about the nukes Sir?" one of the troopers asked.

  "What about 'em? If we don't stop these pricks, it's going to get real hot in here, understood?" Paula said. "Now move! We have no time!"

  Using the anti-gravs, the five drones rapidly spread out over about a half mile of the ridge. In that time, the enemy ships had closed the distance to thirty klicks. Each FROG drone carried two missiles to keep fighters honest, but their main weapons, the small caliber mass driver guns could be used in that roll as well. Paula had her doubts about taking out the transport, but was determined to try anyway.

  Since they were in space and only had the light gravity of the moon to worry about, the range of the FROG was greatly enhanced. The squad opened fire with their mass drivers at twenty-five klicks. Both fighters broke formation and pealed off in different directions, but one of them was trailing smoke indicating engine damage.

  "We might have a chance, Kids; it looks like the jerks have already been damaged. Fire your missiles while we still have a lock on the fighters, then concentrate on the transport!" Paula ordered.

  The missiles made quick work of the wounded fighter. It exploded in space. The other fighter took heavy damage, lost power and crashed into the lunar surface several klicks away. Paula noted there hadn't been an explosion and made a note to check it out later. The remaining missiles, having no target, quickly locked on to the transport and shot in to hammer on the ship's shields.

  As a troop transport, the ship had been designed with heavier shields and armor for going into a battle zone. However, the heavy, concentrated fire from the drones forced the bigger ship to climb in an effort to reduce the ground fire that was quickly reducing their shields. The pilot soon learned that greater altitude held other dangers.

  Just as the ship was about to get our of the drones range, it was hit by two much larger missiles fired from the base defense weapons. The shields failed, the entire front of the ship was blasted away, it lost power and began falling back toward the moon.

  "Nice shot with those missiles, command. The fighters are down and the transports is coming down with a dead stick and no power," Paula reported.

  "Good work getting them to climb high enough for us to target them, Dasher. You're going to have to make sure no one makes it out of the wreckage," command replied.

  "Understood command. Be advised, one of the fighters crashed out here, but did not explode. I think the ship might still be more or less intact," Paula warned. "They were carrying nukes."

  "Do you have it's location?" command asked.

  "Not exactly, just a vector from our location and approximate distance," Paula replied.

  "Good enough, give it to me, and I'll have the inbound fighters check it out," command replied. Paula relayed the information and the short video of the 'crash' as the transport impacted the surface at the northern edge of the Sea of Showers. "Transport's down, command. We're on our way."

  "Understood and good work. Be careful with the transport; the troops are probably still fully mission capable," command replied. "We'll send another FROG squad, and the fighters will assist after they check out the crashed enemy ship."

  "Dasher One, charlie-mike," Paula replied using the military code for 'continuing mission'. She changed over to her squad channel. "Okay kids, lets go make sure none of the troops from that transport can still cause trouble. Command says to be careful, since the troops and their equipment are probably still fully operational."

  "That would be something; they came down like a brick and rolled after impact. I'm damn glad I wasn't on that ride!" one of her troops said.

  "How do you want to do this boss? There is like, literally no place to use as cover out here," her second asked.

  "We'll stay close to the edge and move north. Try to limit your exposure, but there are some places we're just going to have to make a run for it. There's another squad on the way, and we should have some fighters arriving eventually," Paula explained, looking over a map of the area. "Either way, let's get moving kids!"

  "Dasher One, this is Thumper flight. We're nearing your location, do you…" Paula heard before alarms started going off in her cockpit. "Radiological alert! That damn fighter must have hot-wired one of his missiles! All Thumpers; scramble!"

  "Missile track is to the west and on the deck, Thumper flight," Paula reported.

  Thanks Dasher, we got it," the harried sounding pilot replied.

  Paula saw to Wasp fighters rapidly pass over head, heading for the downed fighter, but she knew the rest of the flight had gone after the missile since she could see them on her scope for the time being.

  Just as Dasher squad was closing in on the enemy crash site, there was a bright flash off to the west, well over the horizon. Thumper flight had since left her tracking scope since they had to fly low to get the missile. So it came as a harsh surprise when the remaining two fighters called in over the command channel.

  "Command, this is Thumper three-one-four. I can't raise my flight leader. Do you have them?"

  "Negative three-one-four, missile was armed off the rail. It was a shield piercer in the hundred megaton range. None of them got clear in time." Command paused. "I'm sorry, Ted."

  There was silence for a few moments. "Understood Command. Enemy crash site located. The pilot is still alive and looks to be trying to fire off his other missile." A moment later, the pilot continued. "Fighter destroyed, no survivors. We're heading back to Dasher One's position."

  "Understood Thumper. Good hunting," command said sympathetically.

  "Dasher this is Thumper, it looks like they're expecting you. When we passed over we got a quick look at their position. They're using the crater from the crash as cover. There was a lot of wreckage at the ship, but it looks like there is still enough there to give you a problem. We can work the heavy stuff, but your going to have to deal with the troops."

  The fighter sent her a short video of their fly-by, slowed down so they could see what was where.

  "I see that. Before you start your attack, can you give me a high fly-by so we can see exactly how their set up? The edge of the crater is obscuring a lot of ground in what you sent me," Paula asked.

  "Can-do. Be advised, I'm showing Dancer Squad FROGs approaching from the north. I'd bet the enemy has no idea they're coming," the pilot replied.

  "That would be us; nice to see you folks left us someone to play with!" a new voice entered the conversation.

  "Welcome to the party Dancer. About time you lazy bums got here!" Paula replied. "It looks like the enemy is set up to engage us, and has no idea you're coming up behind them. Feel like giving them a surprise?"

  "Oh that sounds too good to be true Dasher. This sounds like fun!" the new guy replied.

  "We'll keep their attention focused on us to the southeast. You come in from the north and spank them," Paula suggested.

  "They'll have about four hundred meters from the northern rim to cover; if we time a strafing run to cover their advance, they should be able to pull it off, Dasher," the pilot said, showing the 'aerial image' of the battle site.

  "Sounds like a plan, we'll move in and wake them up," Paula said. She switched to her squad channel. "Okay boys and girls. Let's kick this hornet's nest! Try to keep as much of their attention on us as we can; we're the distraction. Stay frosty; they've go
t hover tanks along the crater rim."

  "Time to show off those fancy moves you like so much, boss!" one of her troops replied as they all opened fire on the edge of the crater.

  Above them, the two remaining fighters of Thumper flight dove in on the hidden hover tank line, firing missiles and raking the crater with laser fire. On her scope, Paula could see the five FROGs from Dancer squad vaulting over the low ridge on the edge of the sea. Using their anti-grav units, the units advanced very quickly across the open plain. The enemy did seem to notice them since they were trying hard to kill Dasher and the two fighters.

  "Party-time," Paula said to herself as she ran her drone forward to a new cover position that would giver her a better firing angle. She dove and spun into the cover as two hover tanks tried to target her.

  "You know you're not on a tumbling mat in college anymore, right boss?" one of her troops said.

  "Hey, if it works; I'll use it!!" Paula replied as she targeted one of the tanks.

  "Dancer in position, let's do this Thumper," the other squad leader called.

  "Amen brother!" Thumper replied as the two fighters flipped back around and dove in again.

  "Watch the crossfire, kids!" Paula warned her squad.

  When the tank she had been working on suddenly exploded. She was surprised, the bulk of the attack was in further to the west. "Thanks for the assist on that tank!" Paula called.

  "All part of the service, Ell-tee," a quiet voice replied. Paula saw that one of the Dancer squad had stayed up on the rim of the Sea. She looked closer at it's designation as saw it was equipped with an special type of mass-driver. Basically it was a anti-armor sniper rifle in place of the right side guns. Instead of missiles, it also carried a special electronics package that not only hid the unit from the enemy, but could provide electronics counter-measures for it's squad-mates.