“The hatch won’t budge, sir,” she informed him. “I’m getting ready to blow it.” Nicole was an expert with demolition charges.
“We need to get out of the ship,” Dylan said, knowing they were in a dire situation. “Captain Stern, once we get out have your Marines secure the perimeter around the ship. Once we have our perimeter set up, we’ll need to start searching the Defender for survivors.”
“Yes, sir,” Jaime replied. “Sergeant Dawson, as soon as we’re out I want all of the nearest buildings secured with Marines in positions where they can see and report on what’s going on around us.”
“Yes, Captain,” replied Dawson.
“Ready to blow the hatch,” Captain Foster said as she began backing away.
“Everyone fall back,” ordered Dylan. He was concerned about going outside as most of the Marines on the ship were in Type Three suits with only four platoons in the more versatile Type Fours.
“Ready, Colonel?” asked Nicole, gazing over at Dylan through the helmet of her Type Three battlesuit.
“Blow it!” Dylan ordered. There was no point in delaying their exit from the ship. The longer they waited, the more ready the enemy would be.
Nicole pressed the detonator in her hand and several resounding explosions rang out. When the smoke cleared, the large hatch had been blown outward and Sergeant Dawson was leading two squads of Marines through the breach.
“Incoming fire,” Dawson yelled over the comm channel. “We’ve got several large groups of conscripts in Type Two battlesuits moving in.”
“Captain Stern and Foster, get your Marines out there and secure the perimeter,” Dylan ordered. “We can’t let them pin us inside the ship.” As Dylan watched, more Marines poured through the breach, and he could hear heavy weapons fire outside the ship.
A Type Four battlesuit coming up to him suddenly drew his attention. He recognized it as Captain William Taylor, who had been in Dylan’s British Special Forces unit.
“What did I miss?’ Taylor asked over the command channel. “The ship’s a mess.”
“At least we’re down on the surface,” Dylan replied. “Where are the rest of your Marines?” Taylor commanded all four platoons of the Type Four battlesuits assigned to the Defender.
“Looking for survivors,” he answered. “I figured the Type Fours, being smaller than the Threes, would be better for searching the ship.”
Dylan nodded. “Let’s just hope the damn thing doesn’t blow up on us.”
-
Outside the ship, the Marines were trying to establish a defensive perimeter. Heavy fighting was going on between the Marines and several hundred conscripts who were pressing forward. RG rounds were flying everywhere and occasionally an RG explosive round would go off. Already several Marines had been injured in the fighting.
“Enough of this!” Captain Foster said impatiently over the command channel. “Use your suit explosives to take these conscripts out!”
“Firing,” replied Sergeant Phil Dawson as he passed the order on to his squads.
Instantly, from the twin tubes on the back of the Type Three battlesuits small explosive rounds arrowed upward to fall back down on the advancing conscripts. Explosions tore through their ranks, quickly thinning out their numbers.
RG rifle fire and energy weapons soon eliminated the rest of the demoralized conscripts. Around the Defender dead bodies lay piled high and several buildings were on fire. Heavy smoke was rising up into the air with a lot of it coming from breaches in the Defender’s hull.
“My sector is secure,” reported Corporal Lisa Hayes.
“So is mine,” added Corporal Anthony Harris.
“I don’t see any more conscripts moving,” reported Sergeant Dawson. “I think we got all of them, at least for now.”
Captain Foster scanned the surrounding area with the sensors in her command suit. It did seem as if the area in the immediate vicinity of the Defender was secure. “Colonel, we’ve eliminated the conscripts and are setting up a defensive perimeter.”
Turning around, Nicole gazed at the Defender. She felt her heart start to pound when she saw the shape the ship was in. There were several massive holes in her side and a major portion of the superstructure was buckled. The Defender would never be able to take off from this planet. They were stranded here until they could be rescued.
“Colonel, you should know from out here, the damage to the Defender is terminal.”
“I already suspected that, Captain,” Dylan replied. “I’m sending more Marines out. I want that perimeter extended out at least four hundred meters from the ship.”
“Yes, sir,” Nicole replied.
Captain Jamie Stern walked over to stand next to Nicole. She switched her comm over to a private frequency so the two of them could talk.
“We’re screwed,” Jamie said, looking dismally at the Defender. “I don’t think we’re going to get off this planet. With the Zaltule warships in orbit, our own fleet doesn’t dare come back.”
Nicole was quiet for several seconds. “I know,” she replied softly. “Jamie, I’m not going to let the Kleese capture me. I won’t be wearing one of those damn obedience collars again. I would rather go down fighting here on this spaceport than live through that again.”
Jamie nodded. “We’re not dead yet; maybe the colonel can figure something out. There are some spacecraft here on the spaceport. Perhaps we can use one of those to escape.”
“If the Zaltule don’t nuke us first,” Nicole answered. “That’s what I would do if I were them.”
Jamie stood quietly and then looked toward the center of the spaceport where half a dozen large buildings stood as well as the control tower. “Maybe we should pay the resident Kleese a visit and take them captive. The Zaltule might be hesitant about using a nuke if they know we have some captives. We might even be able to use them as a bargaining chip.”
“It’s an idea,” Nicole replied with a nod. “I’ll suggest it to the colonel and see what he says.”
“We’d better do it quickly,” Jaime said. “They could be evacuating the spaceport at any time. Once they’re gone, we’ll never be able to find them.”
-
In space at the rendezvous coordinates, Admiral Adamson was under a lot of stress. All three task groups had been lured into Zaltule traps. He didn’t know how, but the Kleese had managed to figure out where his fleet was heading.
“What’s the latest fleet status?”
Commander Sandra Shepherd looked over at the admiral and shook her head. “It’s not good. From the Defender’s task group we lost the Firebolt, two light cruisers, and also the Defender. From the Callisto’s task group we lost the Cepheus, three light cruisers and one of the Marine assault cruisers. From our own task group, we lost the Lynx and two of our light cruisers.”
Admiral Adamson leaned back in his command chair and drew in a sharp breath. It was worse than he had thought. He had just lost three of his battlecruisers, seven light cruisers, one of the Marine assault cruisers, and worst of all, the Defender with Colonel Winfrey on board.
“Damaged ships?”
“Several,” Commander Shepherd answered. “However, all the damaged ships are still space worthy and should have the majority of their systems back up and running within six hours.”
“Do we have confirmation on the destruction of the Firebolt and the Defender?”
“No,” replied Commander Shepherd, shaking her head. “Commander Melvin on the Falcon reports both ships had lost their Fold Space Drives and were under heavy attack when his ship entered Fold Space.”
Admiral Adamson looked at the ship’s viewscreens for several moments. They were back in the red giant system licking their wounds and he was wondering what his next move needed to be. The screens were full of unblinking stars. One was focused on the red giant, which nearly filled the screen.
“I’m going to send the light cruiser Warspite back to Lymeth Three. I want to confirm that both ships have been lost.”
&
nbsp; Commander Shepherd frowned. “That could be putting the rest of the fleet in danger. If the Zaltule detect the Warspite, they’ll know our surviving ships are close by.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Adamson replied evenly, his eyes shifting to Commander Shepherd. “We don’t leave our people behind!”
-
Colonel Winfrey and Captain Taylor were standing in the ruined Command Center of the Defender. Commander Greer was severely injured and in the ship’s med bay undergoing treatment. The doctor was administering medical nanites in the hope they could save the commander’s life. The med bay had come through relatively unharmed and was running on an emergency power generator. Most of the rest of the command crew had died when an explosion had roared through the Command Center, tearing consoles loose and bringing down support beams from the ceiling. Captain Damon, Lieutenant Dragger, Lieutenant Coleman, and Ensign Walton had all died at their posts. Over 80 percent of the crew in the Command Center had perished in the crash-landing.
“What’s the latest report on survivors?” Dylan asked Taylor.
“Not good, sir. Out of a crew of six hundred we have three hundred and twenty confirmed dead, forty missing and around eighty severely injured.”
“Our Marines?”
“Our Marines fared much better, but only because they were in their battlesuits. Even so we lost eighty-seven.”
Dylan let out a heavy sigh. This mission had definitely gone south. The only good news was that the orbiting Zaltule battlecruisers hadn’t nuked them yet. A little while earlier, he had sent several platoons of Type Three battlesuits and one platoon of Type Fours to surround the large buildings and control tower at the center of the spaceport. Captain Stern was in charge of the Marines with strict instructions not to attack those buildings or the tower. If the Kleese followed their normal doctrine, there would be popup weapons in that area as well as additional conscripts the Kleese had held back for their own protection. As long as the Kleese were forced to remain on the spaceport, it might prevent the orbiting Zaltule ships from dropping a nuke.
“Captain, take several squads down to where our hover tanks are and see if we can get them out of the cargo hold. We could use their firepower if the Zaltule land conscripts or come down to fight themselves.”
“That area of the ship’s pretty banged up, sir,” Captain Taylor replied. “However, I’ll get some people on it and see what we can do.”
-
Captain Jamie Stern was several hundred meters from the tall grouping of buildings at the center of the spaceport. She had already confirmed the buildings and the control tower were protected by popups. Using her suit sensors, she also knew there were at least another hundred conscripts hiding in that area waiting for the Marines to attack. One of the tall buildings was heavily armored, and she strongly suspected that was where the Kleese were holed up.
Sergeant Dawson was standing beside her watching the buildings with his RG rifle cradled in his arms. “I wish we could go in and get them.”
“This might be best,” Jamie said. “This way they all stay alive and just maybe the Zaltule in orbit don’t blow us up.”
Dawson was quiet for a long moment. Normally, he had a lot to say. “Captain, what do you think’s going to happen to us?”
Jamie turned to look at Dawson. He had been with her from the very beginning. He had been abducted from the Marine base along with Colonel Nelson and everyone else many years ago. They all knew what it was like to wear the Kleese obedience collars. That time, in the trading station, the Kiveans and Colonel Nelson had gotten them home. Now it was up to Colonel Winfrey.
“There are several large spacecraft on this spaceport,” she said after a moment. “Perhaps we can use one of them to try to escape.”
Dawson looked across the blastcrete to where several spaceships rested in their docking cradles. What Jamie was suggesting was a long shot, but for now that was all they had. “The Kleese aren’t going to capture me,” he declared firmly.
Jamie knew what Sergeant Dawson was thinking and she agreed. She also wouldn’t allow herself to be captured alive. It was far better to die fighting than to end up as a conscript for the Kleese.
-
Minor Overlord Matol stood upon the Command Pedestal of his flagship. On the main viewscreen, the broken wreck of the Human ship lay upon the blastcrete of the spaceport. Black smoke was still coming from several gaping holes in its hull. However, Humans in battlesuits were visible moving around the ship and parts of the spaceport.
“All of the conscripts involved in the initial attack have been eliminated by the Humans,” reported one of the Zaltule, who was standing before the Command Pedestal.
Matol turned his unblinking eyes toward the Zaltule who had spoken. “What about the Kleese at the spaceport? Have the Humans killed them yet?”
Matol was well aware of the stories of how the Humans had actually killed Kleese in hand-to-hand combat. It was almost unbelievable that a vermin species could accomplish this. However, the Humans had managed to destroy one of his battlecruisers and severely damage several others. Zaltule had died on those ships.
“No, the Zaltule in front of the communications console responded. “The Kleese at the spaceport are requesting we launch a rescue mission immediately to move them to safety. The Humans have surrounded the building they’re in but are showing no indications of attacking.”
Matol shuffled his six legs on the Command Pedestal. He had already received word that the Humans had attempted to attack two more nearby worlds. Thanks to War Overlord Tetus the Human attacks had failed. Matol expected Tetus to arrive here at Lymeth Three sometime in the next twelve hours.
“Send one of the assault ships down with instructions to use their stun weapon upon the Humans. Once they’ve been subdued, we’ll land the other assault ships and take the Humans captive. I’m curious to see what’s so special about this species that they think they can challenge the Zaltule.”
-
Far out on the edge of the Lymeth Three System, the light cruiser Warspite dropped out of Fold Space.
“I want scans of the entire system,” ordered Commander Donaldson.
“Shields are coming up and weapons are charging,” reported Lieutenant Weirson.
“Fold Space Drive is recharging and will be ready for activation in two minutes and twenty seconds,” added Ensign Giles.
Commander Donaldson looked over at Ensign Jase Leighton at Communications. “Are we picking up any emergency beacons?”
“No; nothing,” replied Ensign Leighton, shaking his head. “I am picking up some communication between the Zaltule ships, but it’s encrypted.”
Donaldson weighed his options. Most likely the Zaltule had picked up his ship in Fold Space and would shortly be responding to his presence. Fortunately, he was far enough away that it would take them some time to reach the Warspite. He should have sufficient warning to allow his cruiser to escape. He let out a deep breath; he much preferred the command of his new light cruiser when compared to the assault ship by the same name he had once commanded.
“We’ll wait until the drive is charged and then send a broad beam message toward the planet. Perhaps survivors managed to land. We’ll try to contact them. If we don’t get any response, we’ll return to the fleet.” Donaldson knew that if anyone had made it to the planet, there was very little the fleet could do.
-
Colonel Winfrey was standing just outside the Defender directing the setting up of the defenses around the ship. Six of the eight hover tanks on board the troop transport were still operational, and a huge hole had been blown in the side of the ship so they could be gotten out. He also had crews checking the ten drop ships and six cargo drop ships in the ship’s flight bays. He had sent orders to Captain Stern that if the Zaltule sent down reinforcements she was to pull back to the Defender.
“Colonel,” came Captain Taylor’s excited voice over the command channel. “I’m in one of the cargo drop ships and I’m
receiving a message from the light cruiser Warspite. It’s a broad beam transmission asking if there are any survivors from the Defender or the Firebolt. Should I respond?”
“Put me through to them,” Winfrey ordered. “Make sure you use an encrypted channel.” Dylan thought over what he was going to say. With the Zaltule battlecruisers in orbit, he didn’t see any way Admiral Adamson could launch a rescue mission. He was surprised the admiral had sent a light cruiser back to the system.
“Colonel Winfrey?” asked a strange voice over the comm channel.
“Yes, this is Winfrey. Who am I speaking with?”
“I’m Commander Donaldson of the light cruiser Warspite. Admiral Adamson sent me to the Lymeth Three System to see if there were any survivors from the Defender or the Firebolt that might have made it to the surface of the planet.”
“The Defender successfully set down at the spaceport,” Dylan replied. “However, the ship is so badly damaged she’ll never fly again. We’ve secured most of the spaceport and are currently waiting for the Zaltule’s next move. Unfortunately, the Firebolt was destroyed by the Zaltule battlecruisers, but not before she blew one of them to hell!”
“How many of you are still alive?”
Dylan hesitated before answering. He didn’t know if he wanted the admiral to attempt a rescue or not. He didn’t want to endanger the rest of the fleet in a rescue attempt that might be doomed to failure.
“There are a little over six hundred of us still alive. There were no survivors from the Firebolt.”
There was silence for several long moments before Commander Donaldson’s voice returned. “Our sensors have detected several Zaltule battlecruisers entering Fold Space. They’re probably coming for us. We’re leaving and we’ll tell the admiral your situation.”
“I don’t want to endanger the fleet,” Dylan said firmly.
“The admiral will decide that,” Donaldson answered. “You just need to hold out until the admiral can come up with a plan.”
The comm channel became silent and Dylan knew the Warspite had left.
Galactic Empire Wars: Insurrection (The Galactic Empire Wars Book 5) Page 17
