Scouts Out: Books One and Two

by Danny Loomis

  After giving the necessary orders, Chapel turned back to Givens, a questioning look on his face.

  “We’re going to step up our pressure on the Edoan government. They’ve been whining about our knocking their aircraft out of the air, so let’s give them something more to think about. I want any water craft that leaves port to be sunk.”

  Lieutenant Commander Beck, the Condor’s signals officer, spun about in his chair. “Sir, I think you’re overstepping the Admiral’s orders. This is…”

  “Be silent,” snapped Captain Chapel. “You will address all comments to me, not to the Commodore. Do-you-understand?”

  Ashen faced, Beck came to attention. “What are your orders, Captain?”

  “You will contact Romulus and order them to take up a stationary orbit around Edo opposite us. His Vipers are to begin sinking any ships leaving port anywhere on Edo.”

  “Sir, I must protest this order. It is in contravention to orders given by Grand Admiral Haven.”

  “Lieutenant Commander Beck, you are relieved. You are to remain in your cabin under house arrest until further notice. Dismissed.” There was dead silence on the bridge as he marched stiffly from the bridge.

  The government liaison, Lieutenant Manfeld, cleared his throat. “Captain, I realize this is outside my purview, but could you clarify your orders for the benefit of the rest of us?”

  “Certainly, Lieutenant. Once we entered this solar system, Commodore Givens became the supreme authority as far as all Alliance personnel are concerned. This will continue to be so until Grand Admiral Haven arrives. Until that time, his authority is unquestioned.”

  “I see, Captain,” Lieutenant Manfeld murmured. He smiled inwardly. In truth he did see. The Captain was ensuring it became public record that it was Commodore Givens who would be responsible for what was occurring on the planet. By removing his Signals officer from the bridge, he’d undoubtedly saved his life. The Lieutenant allowed a portion of the smile to reach his lips. Interesting times ahead.

  * * *

  Givens was startled awake by the chime of his comm unit. He fumbled for a moment before managing to key it. “Givens here.”

  “Sir, you said to call if there was any signal from the planet,” the signals officer said. “We have the First Speaker on hold. Will you take it there?”

  “Yes, please. And have some coffee sent in, will you?” He keyed to the all hail frequency. “This is Commodore Givens.”

  “This is First Speaker Albright. I must protest in the strongest possible terms your unwarranted attacks against this planet. Your ships seem to be Alliance military, yet your actions are of common pirates. Which are you, sir?”

  “I am the lawful representative of the Alliance. Your planet is now under our control. To reduce further loss of life, you must surrender unconditionally to me.”

  There was a pause of several seconds. “On the contrary, Commodore. Your actions are far from lawful. We don’t recognize any outside government as our lord and master. I’ve been empowered by our citizens to pass on this warning: Don’t land any hostile forces, or we’ll be forced to resist to the last man, woman and child.”

  Commodore Givens laughed. “So many empty words. Surrender, or we will accommodate you in your wish to die.”

  “So be it. Your forces will be regarded as pirates. If any of your troops land, Provision Two of the Treaty for Humanity will be invoked. This is the last official communique Edo will have with you or any of your forces. End transmission.” With that, the screen blanked.

  Givens dressed hurriedly, puzzled over the cryptic referrals to a “Provision Two”. He strode onto the command bridge just as his coffee was being delivered. “Captain, what is this Provision Two the First Speaker was talking about?”

  “Not sure, Sir. I vaguely remember something about a Treaty for Humanity from my college days. I’ll have Intel look into it right away.”

  “While you’re doing that, land the battalion of storm troopers at the main space port by, um, what’s the name of that city?”

  “Vanport, Sir. It’s got the largest concentration of civilians. A bit over fifty thousand at last count.”

  “Once the spaceport is secure, begin landing the Vipers and move our refuel and repair capabilities for them down as well.” At the Captain’s hesitant look, he waved his hand deprecatingly. “I know, I know. The Admiral said not to land troops. But we have a new situation on our hands, and the sooner we take control down there the better. Get on with it, Captain. Oh, and pass word to the Battalion Commander. Don’t be gentle with any hint of resistance. We need to show them some muscle. Maybe that’ll get them to cave in and accept us as their new masters.”

  * * *

  The screaming roar of two dozen attack shuttles coming in for a combat drop filled the air around the Vanport Space Terminal. When each came to a stop, fifty soldiers disembarked at a run. Thirty meters away from each shuttle they dropped to the ground, rifles pointed outward, questing for a target. Once the shuttles lifted and raced back into orbit for another load of personnel or equipment, each group of soldiers stood and began a cautious advance.

  Within thirty minutes the entire space port was secure without a shot being fired. In fact only one native had been discovered, asleep in the basement of the space port lounge. Colonel Hall, busy setting up his tactical operations center in the same building, took time out to interview the man. When the grey-clad securely bound man was hustled into his presence by two guards, Goebel marveled at the calm expression on the other man’s face.

  The beginning of a polite smile slid from the Colonel’s face when he studied the prisoner more closely. Tightly curled black hair where it wasn’t turning gray, and asian-african features. Hall grimaced in disgust. No one had told him this planet was peopled by sub-humans. Abruptly he turned to his aide. “Lieutenant, have this—thing—taken out and shot. Find me a real human to interrogate.”

  Hall watched the creature being prodded out of his office, a thoughtful look on his face. “Lieutenant Alein, what percent of the population is subhuman?”

  “I’m not sure, Colonel. I’ll find out.” He hurried from the office, the door closing behind him. Maybe the real humans used these creatures to do their stoop labor. If so, they’d have to re-think their actions. Possibly soft pedal the violence. Just in case they ended up being allies. Hall turned back to his other duties, the muffled sound of a pistol shot barely penetrating his concentration.

  Focusing on the communications he still needed to accomplish, he didn’t hear the susurrus of displaced air as a portion of the floor opened in the far corner of the room. A black-clad shape emerged and moved noiselessly towards his back. His first premonition of death was when a thin wire dropped over his head and snugged tightly about his neck. The assassin twisted his wrists, locking it firmly in place. Hall lunged to his feet, fingers vainly scrabbling to get a purchase on the wire. He staggered to the door and plunged through to fall threshing in front of his horrified aide and four guards.

  Two of them attempted to aid their commander, while others dashed into his office. An empty room with no signs of forced entry met their disbelieving eyes.

  “Get a medic in here,” the aide shouted, bloodying his fingers in a vain attempt to pry the wire from Hall’s throat. He unknowingly finished the job started by the assassin, pulling it tight enough to slice through flesh. Blood gushed everywhere, and Colonel Hall’s heels drummed briefly on the floor.

  * * *

  Enforcer Aosi slid down the short ladder into the dark cavern and turned to ensure the trap door to the space port lounge was properly closed. He hunched slightly to keep his head from hitting the low ceiling, and jogged towards a distant light. Fifteen minutes later he came to a hatch which sealed the tunnel. After a tapped signal, he twisted the handles to unseal the door and stepped through. Two figures moved back from either side of it. Without the proper code he would have been killed. He bowed to the seated men in the room. “It has been done, Elders. I await y
our orders.”

  Elder Enforcer Yoshida nodded tiredly. “Well done, Enforcer Aosi. Please report to your pack leader for further orders.” Aosi gave a half-salute and glided away.

  Yoshida turned to the other six at the table with him. “As you see, we are to be treated as sub-humans by the Alliance soldiers. Only those who are considered of ‘pure’ blood will even be tolerated by them.”

  Elder Enforcer Yamashita shook his head. “This societal cusp has occurred sooner than anticipated. Are we prepared?”

  “Not as prepared as I would like,” Yoshida muttered. “We can hold out for quite some time, but ultimately outside assistance will be needed. If all their leaders were thick-headed and venal as Commodore Givens, we would have a chance of victory. I don’t think that will be the case. Once their leadership begins thinking in terms of a true invasion, it will only be a matter of time.”

  “Are we still on track for Operation Gandhi?” asked Elder Enforcer Nim, the oldest at the table.

  “Yes, my Father, and the population is in agreement.” Nim smiled to cover the pain he felt. “May all who are about to die enter into Oneness with the Way.”

  “May they enter Oneness with the Way,” echoed everyone at the table.

  * * *

  Grand Admiral William Haven lounged in his command chair, looking unconcerned as he could. Twelve minutes until breakout. Twelve more minutes to see if step one of his plan to conquer the Confederation bore fruit. The main battle room lay below him with Captain Winters, his flagship Captain, controlling the command console. Twelve other ships had entered “N” space with the Behemoth-class flagship Ragnarok. Six battlecruisers and a like number of battleships should ensure enough firepower to take on the entire Fifth Wing of the Confederation.

  He tapped into the ship’s tactical communications net, TacCom, in time to hear the desultory chatter of the fifteen Viper pilots prepping their fighters. Once emergence occurred, they would be launched as a precautionary measure. Even a Confederation dreadnought Captain would have second thoughts about tackling fifteen Vipers.

  William called up a hologram of the Ragnarok and stared at it in awed fascination. The members of his staff not too busy to notice smiled at the scene that played out at least three times a day. William’s preoccupation with the Ragnarok was a three year love story. From its inception, then-Captain Haven had been one of the most ardent supporters for the new Behemoth class of ships. His brilliant strategist’s mind had seen the potential of such a weapon.

  The ovoid object of his affection looked harmless enough, until its size became apparent. Ten kilometers long and seven wide, it was the largest warship ever constructed. To the front, a concentric ring of 30 capital missile launch tubes was its main offensive long-distance weapon. Four rail guns were equidistantly spaced around its mid axis, each capable of spitting out a twenty centimeter steel ball every five seconds. The enormous backlash of these weapons had kept them from being used in space before, but the sheer size of the Ragnarok was able to absorb the gravity fluctuations brought on by firing the rail guns.

  Its energy weapons were for defensive use only, hence four grasers front and rear. The sides were protected by beefed up laminated force screens, and dozens of smaller missile tubes plus het lasers. Offensively the Ragnarok could fire thirty capital missiles every five minutes, a longer wait between volleys than normal, due to the distance involved in moving reloads to the tubes. It had been an engineer’s nightmare to find space within the five-meters thick duralloy hull to store enough missiles to ensure they could keep up a sustained rate of fire for two hours. This was a staggeringly large number of missiles, the total number of which had never been fired by anyone in any recorded battle in history.

  Normally thirty Vipers nested one kilometer forward from the six huge engine cowlings, but the Admiral had decided to bring more attack shuttles. The other twelve ships were also halved in the number of Vipers, with additional shuttles. This would speed up the landing of the Wolfshead division of storm troopers trailing one day behind them on six transports.

  With a look verging on regret, William turned off the holo image. “Signals, how long to breakout?”

  “Three minutes, Sir.”

  He stood. “Fine, I’ll be with the Captain on the bridge.”

  * * *

  “Entering normal space in ten seconds,” Commander Melton, the Navigation Officer said.

  “Signals, tell Major Shelton to launch the Vipers as we enter normal space,” Captain Winters ordered.

  “Aye aye,” Lieutenant Gerhard said, whispering into his mike. The pace of activity picked up on the bridge.

  William sat in an observers chair and tried to hide a sudden case of the fidgets. In a few seconds he’d find out whether eighteen months of planning and preparation had paid off.

  The unyielding blackness of bubble space was replaced by a screen full of stars. Sensors rapidly surveyed the volume of space within three light minutes of the Ragnarok. “Vipers away,” Gerhard said.

  “Good,” Captain Winters said. “That’s a full second faster than their previous best. Tell Major Shelton ‘Well Done’ for me. Guns, how’s our weapons readiness looking?”

  “Green across the board on defensive armament, Sir. Missiles on-line in twenty more seconds, and the rail guns are ready now.”

  Winters nodded. “Move us towards Edo at half-speed, Helm. Keep an eye out for our first signs of contact.”

  “Multiple contacts at extreme range of our close-in radar, Sir. Identified as friendlies,” Commander Melton said.

  William felt himself relaxing. “Excuse me, Captain, but how long until we’re within hailing range?”

  “About half an hour, Admiral. We’re receiving their first situation report now. Once we’re within voice and visual range, I’ll get Commodore Givens on the horn for you.”

  “Thanks, Captain. And thanks for letting me share your bridge during entry.” With that he strode toward his own command center, a new bounce in his step.

  He was settling in to his own command chair when his comm unit chimed. “We’ve completed a download of the latest situation report from the task force, Sir. It’s on channel four.”

  William relaxed into his chair, a cup of steaming tea in hand. The first pages of the sitrep scrolled across his screen. Unfortunate about the loss of the space station. Not surprising, but it would have been nice as an administrative base of operations. His mind focused on something he’d just read. He paged back. Shooting down all aircraft?

  Leaning forward, he began to read the report in earnest. Jesus God! What was that fool Givens thinking? Not only aircraft, but water craft too. When he reached the portion of the report concerning the landing of troops, his face heated up. How dare that bastard disobey orders. He had specifically ordered him to leave the surface of the planet alone until the rest of the invasion fleet arrived.

  Suppressing the urge to smash the monitor, he closed its screen, stood and handed the cup of tea to his aide. “I’ll be in my cabin. Route Commodore Givens’ call to me there soon as it comes in,” he said in a calm, too calm, voice.

  Lieutenant Rathburn, his aide, looked intently at the Admiral’s retreating back. He hadn’t seen the Admiral this angry before. Better warn the Captain, he thought, turning away.

  In his cabin, William sat at his console and stared at nothing. He forced calm into his mind. The Commodore was by far the best tactician he had ever known. But not, apparently, one who could be trusted with an independent command.

  By the time Commodore Givens’ face appeared, he had control of himself again. “Good day, Commodore. It looks as if you’ve settled in quite nicely.”

  “Thank you, Sir. And may I say it’s good to see you again.” William forced his face to remain bland, anger simmering under the surface. He wanted to reach out and rip the man’s face from the screen.

  Even while answering with polite phrases, his mind raced. How best to salvage his carefully laid plans for this planet? Was it too
late to mend fences with the Edoan government? If so, what were his options? Best to deal with the present situation. Make sure everyone else learned from it.

  “I’d like to visit you tomorrow, Commodore. Inform your flag Captain my party will be there for lunch. We can discuss our future actions afterwards.”

  “Do you wish the other Captains to attend, Admiral?”

  “No, not yet. We’ll have a more formal get-together the day after. Until tomorrow, Commodore.” With that he cut the connection. Even the short time spent looking at Givens’ face on the comm had almost caused him to lose his temper. How could he have been so wrong in choosing him to lead the advance task force? What other mistakes had he made? He shook his head in annoyance and rang for his aide. Whatever they were, he’d find out soon enough. Best to deal with the ones he knew about.

  * * *

  Enforcer Aosi sat in a half-lotus on the floor of the tunnel, deep in meditation. In the barracks above, it had been lights out two hours ago. The slight vibration of his wrist com let him know the allotted time had passed. He stretched his legs, and flexed his back to take out any residual stiffness.

  Touching a pad on the wall dimmed the already sparse light to full blackness, matching his clothing. In one smooth motion he came upright and grasped the lowest rung of the ladder which pointed upward to the hidden doorway inside a latrine. Within seconds he climbed ten meters to the hatch, and silently opened it. Since it was situated in a back corner of the latrine he was able to easily scan the room. Empty. He flowed silent as death out of the tunnel mouth and through the partially opened door. All beds occupied.

  He knelt down and removed a small sack from his belt, carefully opening and placing it on the floor. A Gantu lizard emerged, tongue flicking rapidly. Only fifteen centimeters long, it had six stubby legs that barely allowed its stomach clearance across the floor. Since it lived its entire life in tunnels, it was pure white and had no eyes. It still managed to find its way around, due to extremely sensitive heat sensors. Its bite would inject a fast-acting nerve toxin in its victim, rendering it unable to move within seconds of being bitten. That allowed the Gantu plenty of time to suck out the body juices of the unlucky victim.