Finished with the report, Varus started reading the next document which held the results from the system-wide search for more valuable minerals and other resources, and information on the datapad brought a small smile to his face. There were enough moons and planets to support the needs of the Coalition for many years to come.
Tapping a button on the side of his command chair, Varus summoned his second to the bridge. He reviewed the report until Sajoba appeared at his side.
“Yes, commander.”
Varus knew that Sajoba was still smarting slightly from the dressing down he had given him, but he also knew that he was putting on a bit of a show in front of the crew by showing proper courtesy.
“Take a look at this report.” Varus handed him the datapad.
Sajoba took the pad and scanned it quickly, then looked at the figures. “These are impressive.” He said. “These Terrans were never able to mine their system, the resources here are incredible.” He said, putting the pad down on the command chair’s arm.
“They are, but we don’t have the resources to extract them.” Varus said, rising from his chair, he took several steps towards the image of Earth that was displayed at the front of the bridge. “I do believe that it is time to request an audience with Imperator Casix, and let him know of our progress and recent discoveries.”
Sajoba walked up behind his commander. “And if he is unhappy with our results?”
“He might kill us both.” Varus ended the sentence for him. “Let us hope that is not the case.” Varus turned and strode back to his command chair. “I will draft a correspondence to be sent to him this very day.” Varus sat down and pulled up a schedule of all ships planning to depart the system shortly. “There is a ship going to Marxis Minor in a few hours. I will have our message drafted and ready to be sent with the ship.” He closed the image of the ship manifest and looked at Sajoba. “If everything continues as planned, then our fortunes may be on the rise.”
30
Canada
21 January
John Robert was on his second pack of cigarettes of the day. Doctor Gaius Stephenson had hit a dead-end with the Coalition drone, now he needed Keegan Beck’s Alliance troops to take things to the next step, and to somehow figure out how to deal with the small problem that was the occupation.
From his chair behind his large desk, he could look out into the brain of his underground lair where all his operations people spent their time keeping tabs on what was going on on the surface. Only through sheer luck and foresight did Tohil still have one operational satellite in orbit. Recently launched, the satellite was the most advanced counter EMP creation the company had ever manufactured. It was even capable of taking direct hits from solar flares and was on an orbital trajectory that had it doing an entire sweep of the northern hemisphere every 48 hours. It allowed John Robert to have eyes on the whole northern half of the planet, and with the inclusion of a few mini cameras that were facing away from the globe, and an idea of what the Coalition had in the system.
Estimates of the numbers of ships in the system varied from day to day. The all-time high was the moment that the invasion fleet arrived with close to three hundred ships participating in that assault. It was mainly a bloodless one if you ignored the estimated fifty million plus killed in the targeted global strikes.
Since then, the numbers of ships had steadily decreased. Now there were only a handful of ships still in the system. John’s working theory was that since the Coalition controlled the ground where the shield generator was supported from, the Alliance saw no point in a counter attack. Only once the shields were taken down from the surface could the planet be retaken.
And that, in a nutshell, was the two-part problem he, with some help, needed to sort out. Take down the shields, then pray that a large enough Alliance force returned to the system to handle the enemy ships in orbit before they reinforced. John was also fairly sure that if any one of the four shield sites were dropped then the shield would collapse, but he wasn’t certain. He was convinced without a shadow of a doubt that the main generator in Kansas held the key to the entire system. From the data he had seen, it was the best protected, and least remote, making it a rather tempting target.
When news had reached him that his special train service had made contact with Doctor Beck in Prince Rupert, John put into action the second phase of his transportation plan, the air portion. He knew that Toronto was locked down and that there was no way of getting a train through that area without attracting serious attention from the locals, making the rail solution impractical to transport them all the way to the Tohil facility. He also didn’t want to wait for the train to make the long, arduous journey east, so an air option was the only solution.
Using a variety of communications methods, including CB radio, John had been able to send a request for transportation to Buffalo Air, located in Yellowknife, Northwest Territories. John Robert wasn’t sure what type of aircraft the Coalition would allow flying if any, but he knew that anything too modern would have been damaged by the EMP blast, and would attract too much attention, and he needed aircraft that could land on the improvised landing strip that was on the Tohil property on the surface.
This is where Buffalo made perfect sense. They operated a fleet of World War Two era transports that might just be low-tech enough to be ignored by the Coalition forces in orbit, and rugged enough to make the flight down to Saskatoon, grab Doctor Beck and his people, and then get them to the Tohil facility quickly.
After he had finalised transportation with Buffalo, John Robert sat back in his chair and lit another cigarette. Getting in touch hadn’t been the hard part. The hard part had been getting the companies owner to buy off on his crazy plan. A few threats and promises had been made, but once the owner was satisfied, he arranged for a trio of aircraft to make their way south to Saskatoon. They’d leave over the next few hours, attempting not to attract too much attention from the fleet in orbit, and rendezvous in time to greet the train coming from British Columbia.
Sitting back in his chair, John Robert closed his eyes and started to think how he was going to control the group that was on their way. He didn’t have the firepower to match even the most meagre force that was accompanying Keegan Beck. Perhaps it was time to stop trying to force his way through the problems that were facing him and compromise. He let the thought linger for a moment then smiled, and brushed it aside.
31
Canada/Earth Orbit
21 January
Once the train got rolling out of Prince Rupert, one of the engineers came to the large passenger car and informed Keegan and the rest of his party that they would most likely roughly need 40 hours to cover the distance to Saskatoon. They would have to cover most of British Columbia, the Rocky Mountains, then Albert, before reaching the plains of Saskatchewan. The journey would start through lush forests before the climb through mountain passes before reaching the flatlands that would take them to their destination, which lay almost 2000 kilometres to the east.
There were several berths aboard the train, along with plenty of provisions. Keegan used the time to try and catch his breath. They had been running for five days since the Coalition arrived in orbit, and since the Epsilon and the Planetary Command Ship disappeared from view. Sitting in a reasonably comfortable chair at the rear of the carriage, Keegan stared out of the rear windows at the majesty of the Canadian wilderness as the train moved along at a glacial thirty miles an hour.
There was little Keegan was sure of as they moved through the snow-covered landscape. He wasn’t confident that he could trust John Robert, but he had some confidence that Doctor Stephenson was at the core a good person who had the right intentions in his heart. Either way, the die had been cast, and he didn’t really see any other way to proceed. They needed to hold up somewhere safe, somewhere they could get a grip on what was going on, and figure out what their options were.
1300 kilometres to the north in the heart of the North-West Territories, three a
ircraft were warming up in the icy morning weather for their 1200-kilometer flight south to Saskatoon. The owner of Buffalo Airways had decided that he’d send a variety of aircraft south. He knew in the winter that there was every chance that something on one of his vintage aircraft would fail, so the final decision was to send a Douglas DC4, a robust aircraft with four engines and the most lift capability among the three. In addition to the DC4 was its smaller brother, the DC3, and rounding out the team was a Curtis C-46 Commando.
The birds left Yellowknife on thirty-minute intervals in an attempt to attract as little attention as possible from those in orbit. Since the day of the attack, nothing had flown over Canada. On the day of the assault, everything in the sky had been hit by the EMP burst and fallen in a death plunge to the ground except the skilled pilots who had been able to glide their planes to safety. They were the lucky ones.
The age of the aircraft had saved them from the EMP blast, with only a few components needing to be replaced, they were ready for their mission with very little modification. The crews had been handpicked, and they had been instructed to fly as low as possible. It was a gamble that they’d even make it to Saskatoon, but Tohil and John Robert carried much influence with the company, and they had been asked to provide a service that could prove critical to the future of humanity.
In orbit, the movement of every ship, car, and plane on the planet was monitored by an automated system, and that system was followed in turn. At the moment, the only thing moving on the seas were sailboats, none of which interested Varus, and therefore they escaped destruction. Smaller land-based vehicles were also detected. They were nowhere near any of the four strong points held by Coalition forces, so these also escaped destruction. And since the EMP blast, no one had been foolish enough to attempt to get into the air. Until that day.
The departure of the three aircraft did not go unnoticed, and the chain of command sent it all the way to the top. Varus dismissed it as not a threat and not relevant, but Sajoba sensed there was something more afoot. The bridge of the Lone Hunter was large, and tucked in one corner was the intelligence suite.
“Intelligence analysis for this quadrant.” Sajoba pointed at the eastern Pacific.
The analyst looked up from his screen, then back down and tapped a few times on a datapad next to the monitor, then looked back up at the second in command. “Analysis suggests that this sector has the highest probability of Alliance forces on the planet.”
“And?”
“After the initial assault on the planet, all Alliance ships on the globe, or in the system jumped out, except the Planetary Command Ship that Sinus Fu reported. There is a high chance that ground elements there may not have reached transport in time to get off-world, or make it to the PCS before it disappeared leaving them stranded.” The analyst replied.
“Any unusual movement in the region?”
“There have been no unrestricted attempts at movement, per Sector Commander Varus occupation guidelines.”
“Fine, but has anything of interest happened of late?” Sajoba pressed.
“Perhaps.” The analyst replied. “A single rail-based transport moved to the coast here.” He pointed at a map. “Then started moving inland.”
“And why is this of interest?”
“All rail transport before the disruption of the electrical grid was of considerable size. This transporter is extremely small by comparison.”
“Bring up an image.” Sajoba ordered, leaning down towards the monitor.
A birds-eye view came up of the train moving east along tracks that had a light dusting of snow over them.
“Where do those tracks lead?”
There was a pause while the analyst ran a systems program. “Multiple options along the continent.”
“Pull up those three aircraft that recently came into play.”
The three small dots appeared on the screen. “Why haven’t these been destroyed?” Sajoba asked.
“Again, occupation guidelines set out by Sector Commander Varus conclude that these are none threatening.”
“Probable destination based on current course?” Sajoba asked.
A small town appeared on the screen.
“Add a list of possible destinations of the rail-based transport to the screen.”
The analyst did as he was told, and a little red dot appeared over the town.
Sajoba stood up and put his hands on his hips. “A rendezvous.” A smile came onto his face.
Walking away from the station, Sajoba headed to the exit of the bridge and walked back to his quarters which were nearby. He opened the door and moved to a large data-screen that was on the long wall of the room. Scrolling through a myriad of pages he finally came to what he was looking for, the number of forces he could deploy in a non-emergency situation without command authorisation. The number was surprisingly low. Varus had set the limits as a standard measure when he had been given command of the fleet, but Sajoba wanted the glory of any capture of Alliance forces still on the planet for himself and to do that he would need skill and guile, and an off the books operation.
Shaking his head, he quickly went to the ships list of ground combat forces available on the Hunter and activated a squad of infantry. He would have liked to take a few Sentinel’s with him for extra firepower, but their deployment was strictly regulated.
He knew how long he had until the rail-based transport reached its destination, so he wasn’t in a rush. He sent a warning order to the ship’s infantry commander, instructing him to alert the squad he had activated and ready them for a ground deployment.
The next problem would be getting off the ship without Varus getting suspicious, which required him to calculate the best window for him to get off the ship, capture any Alliance forces on the surface, then return triumphantly to the ship without being detected first. But there lay another problem. Getting off the ship without using a ship that would require a full set of flight plans. No, he needed a ship that was in transit and would not attract any unwanted notice.
Using the data-screen, Sajoba shifted through all available shuttles and craft that were scheduled to visit the ship in the time period that would enable him the opportunity to reach the planet without stirring any curiosity. Sajoba also realised that he would want to land at night in the town where the rendezvous was to take place, best not to alert the locals to his activities. Once he found a ship that was large enough for him and the squad of infantry, he checked the manifest and then updated its flight orders to take instruction from him once it was ready to leave the Lone Hunter. It was a beautiful plan that was coming together.
When the time for the off-the-books excursion came, Sajoba was in the large hangar-bay in his traditional dress, with the addition of a helmet for him to wear on the surface, he wasn’t planning on needing armour. He carried no weapons. He was very confident that his force of infantry would be more than capable of dealing with any Alliance stragglers that may still be on the surface.
The infantry arrived on time in their crimson red battle armour. They were carrying with them enough firepower to wipe out a large Terran settlement or at least that was Sajoba’s assessment. The squad commander walked up to Sajoba, his helmet embellished with personal markings tucked under his left arm.
“Base Commander.” The leader offered a small bow of his head. “We are ready.”
Sajoba smiled. “Excellent. We are to descend to the planet’s surface and conduct an ambush on a possible Alliance force.”
The squad leader, a Qeran with dark purple skin and dark eyes took a half step back and looked at the members of his team, lined up in neat formation five metres away. “Are you certain we have enough force?”
Sajoba reached forward a put his hand on the shoulder of the infantry leader. “Whatever is down on the planet is running. Lost. In fear. We shall go down there and capture them.” Sajoba dropped his hand down to his hip. “I doubt very much that there are any combat troops on the ground.”
The trai
n journey from Prince Rupert had been relatively painless, if not rather monotonous. Keegan and his wife and most of the Canadian troops had kept to themselves during the trip. Star Guard Hulo had kept his forces on a combat footing, with two troopers posted on the roof of the train at all times. Their armour kept them well insulated against the bitter cold outside.
On the last night of the journey, one of the engineers came to the passenger compartment and informed everyone that they were scheduled to arrive into Saskatoon at ten in the morning, just an hour after sunrise. That night, Keegan, Captain Joyce and Star Guard Hulo discussed the plan for their arrival into town. They had no idea how close the train could get to the airfield, and they had no guarantees that the aircraft promised by John Robert would actually be there. It was going to be a case of figuring it out as they went, similar to Prince Rupert.
Keegan knew that they were reaching another junction in their journey that would be dangerous and potentially lethal, and knowing this, he spent as much time during the dark hours of the night holding his wife Ryan close as they slept in one of the berthing compartments as the train rolled gently back and forth on its way east.
Sergeant Greenleaf woke Keegan an hour before they were due into Saskatoon. Enough time to make love to his wife, then grab a quick meal from what was on offer. There was a sense of excitement in the air as they got closer and closer to their destination. The Canadian soldiers, just like their Alliance counterparts stripped and cleaned their weapons one last time. Final kit checks were conducted, and numerous inspections carried out.
Just after ten, the engineer came over the loudspeaker. “Coming into the rail yards now.”
Everyone instinctively moved to a window and looked out over a snow-covered mass of rail lines and immobile trains of all shape and size as they came into view. The place looked dead, as if a single person hadn’t moved through in weeks. It had probably been only days since the facility had been in full swing, but now it was without life.
Edge of the Vortex Page 13
