The Battle for Lashmere

by Michael Freeport

  The Marine on duty nodded at him and said, “Sounds like gunfire on the far side of the ring.”

  “Yeah,” Valencia said. They listened quietly for several minutes. Valencia adjusted his suit’s sensors. “I hear something. Might be a ship.” The three men craned their necks, staring up at the sky.

  McCandless saw it first. “There,” he pointed. A small craft of strange design moved by just within their line of sight for a few seconds.

  “That’s not one of ours,” the sentry observed.

  “Nope. I’ve never seen a ship like it. I wonder if it’s one of the Woduur ships.” Valencia’s voice was filled with curiosity.

  “Don’t know,” McCandless said. The distant gunfire continued for several more minutes when a tremendous boom roared over the city. The ground shook and several buildings, already damaged from the Woduur landing, crumbled to the ground. Dust filled the air.

  Valencia said, “I wonder what that was.”

  “Not sure. I’ll get my boys and take a look. McCandless disappeared back underground.

  “Keep a sharp eye out, Private. If you see anything coming, don’t hesitate to withdraw to the shielded area.”

  “Aye, Sarge.”

  Valencia hurried back underground and caught McCandless before he left. “Wait. We have to come up with a coordinated goal. If we squander the supplies you’ve discovered, we’re going to have a really tough time.”

  “What’s on your mind?”

  Valencia let the Karn back to his command center as he talked. “I want to hit the ring above and below ground simultaneously. If we can get a high explosive up against the surface of the ring underground, we might be able to force a breach. I want Nate to train everyone on shape charge placement and field safety for construction grade explosives.

  “If we can get a breach in place, we can start bringing supplies and troops into the ring. Start driving the invaders out. We need more people and the ability to resupply before we can go on the offensive in a meaningful way.”

  “Okay, son. You’ve convinced me. It’ll take us a few days to get all of the leaders together. Where do you want to meet?”

  Valencia leaned over the map on his table. The center of town was fairly close to the center of where the ring landed. He looked over the buildings. “How about the Karn Cultural Center here.” He tapped the map with his finger. “It should have meeting rooms, and it’s a relatively small building with good road access all around. It also has an underground parking area if I recall correctly.”

  “It should work. Do you want to try a combined force to take the supply cache?”

  “That’s my primary goal,” Valencia confirmed. “Once we have the supplies secured, we can work on a plan to hit the ring. I think collapsing the building and also setting charges underground in a combined attack should get us the results we need.”

  “It just might,” McCandless allowed. “Too bad we don’t have a way to tell your command what we’re planning.”

  Valencia did have an idea on how to let command know what he had planned, but he didn’t want to tell McCandless about it. It would only work once, at best. “I’ll see if I can come up with a good solution, Floyd.” Valencia tried not to let his discomfort show. McCandless had been a valuable ally, but the method Valencia planned to use was an emergency comm circuit that was highly classified. So far, Valencia had not detected any jamming on the frequency the circuit used. He didn’t want to try using it until he had a plan worth the time and attention using it would generate.

  “Fair enough, son. I’m heading north. I should be back in three or four days. Meet at the cultural center in seven?”

  Valencia considered his food supplies and water availability before he answered. “Yeah, I think seven will be fine. I don’t have to tell you how low on food we’re getting.”

  McCandless nodded. “Whole area’s stripped clean. If we don’t start getting food soon, people will start eating the dead. Bad road to go down.”

  Valencia wondered if McCandless knew from personal experience. Nothing ever seemed to surprise the man, and his attitude towards pretty much everything seemed to be along the lines of ‘if you can’t shoot it, live with it.’ He couldn’t find a disagreement with the philosophy, but it felt a little too languid for Valencia’s taste.

  “I’m sure,” Valencia said. McCandless motioned to the other three men on his team. As they got together to leave, he said, “How are you set for food and water?” If you’re going to keep on the move for the next week, you’re going to need some supplies.”

  McCandless waived his hand and said, “We’re fine, son. See to your people.”

  “Okay, Floyd. Watch your backs out there.”

  The Karn nodded and said, “You do the same, son.” He took his men and left the base.

  Valencia turned and said, “Sergeant Skorn, have you ever been read into secret level four comms protocols?”

  “No,” Skorn said.

  “I have an emergency transponder that operates on a frequency the Woduur aren’t jamming.”

  “Why haven’t you called for help yet?” Skorn asked.

  “Because when I use this, I expect the Woduur to come down on us like an avalanche. When I use it, I want to be ready. We have to save it for the critical moment because I doubt the Woduur will give us a chance to use it twice.”

  Skorn nodded, a light of understanding entered his eyes. “I can’t wait to give these Woduur a real body blow. The sooner we kick their butts and get them off of Lashmere, the better.”

  Valencia nodded and clapped Skorn on the shoulder. “I couldn’t agree more, Skorn. When we get the chance, we’re going to hammer these guys so hard they’ll be afraid to come back for a thousand years.”

  Chapter 22

  Patho’s head hurt. He realized he was twisted into an awkward position up against something quite uncomfortable. His ears started carrying information to him, and he heard a wailing damage control alarm. He moved slightly, most of the rest of his body seemed undamaged, but there was a point near the top of his head that was definitely injured.

  “Hunh,” he mumbled incoherently. He knew there was a reason he needed to get on his feet and do something. What was it that was so important to do? Sudden awareness flooded through his system. His eyes snapped open. The ship, he had to save his crew.

  “Sir,” he heard Hilleman’s voice say, “Let me help you up.”

  Patho felt Hilleman’s hands under his shoulders, helping Patho to sit up and turn his back to the console he’d slammed his head into. “How long was I out?”

  “About a minute, sir. Emergency power came on almost immediately, and the systems automatically worked around the damaged power conduits. We’re at full fighting trim, but the point to point drive is out of commission until new power conduits and accumulators can be manufactured.”

  Patho stood, but his legs suddenly felt wobbly. He staggered to his command chair and sat in it. His stomach twisted intensely, giving him waves of nausea. He tasted bile in the back of his throat. “Okay,” he said, waving off Hilleman’s continued efforts to physically assist him. “Status of the Woduur?” His voice came out thick, and he realized blood was running down the side of his head.

  “I’ve got us on a corkscrew around the inside of the asteroid field. The Woduur can’t enter the field at anything like the speed we can maintain because of their size. I don’t want to try going into stealth because once the active sensors are secured, we might not see some of these smaller asteroids. There’s so much background clutter.”

  Patho nodded, the movement sending still more nausea and pain through his senses. “Good thinking, Exec. Get the doc up here. I think I might have a concussion.”

  “He’s already on the way, sir.” Hilleman waved his hands about frantically as he talked. “I called him as soon as the power came back on.”

  Patho tried to focus his eyes on the main plot. The area was displayed in vivid detail. Gorgon was about thirty thousand kilometers i
nside the edge of the inner asteroid belt, following a twisting path through the floating rocks to avoid the Woduur closing with them. He tapped at the arm on his command chair. A sanitation systems overview came up, causing startled statements from several of the bridge crew. Patho bit back a curse and canceled it, instead bringing up a larger overview of the system. Seven other ring ships were converging on the area. They were staying at sublight for the moment.

  “I wonder if they think that was some type of weapon we used?” he asked.

  “It’s possible, sir,” Hilleman said, “They’ve been keeping their distance a bit as well.”

  “I’m sure they’ll come close enough to kill us if they think they can. We have to extend our lead and get back into stealth.” He studied the plot for a moment. “Did the mines get into position?”

  “I think so, but we won’t know until we send the detonation signal,” Hilleman said.

  “Okay. Have we got enough materials to make more mines? I want to get them on as many of the ring ships as possible.”

  Hilleman checked his console. “We can make two more.”

  “Get it started. With our reserve of mines, that should be enough to make them think twice before coming after us again. We’ll look for a way to get them on another of the enemy ships.”

  The door opened, and Petty Officer Bael came in, his portable med pack slung across his shoulders. He stepped up next to Patho immediately and examined his injuries. “Sir, your head wound is pretty bad. I’m going to take off some hair and put some spray skin on it, but you’ll need to spend a few minutes in the autodoc to get it sealed properly when you have the time.”

  “Okay, Corpsman. Is anyone else hurt?”

  “Nothing serious. One dislocated shoulder, one broken arm and a lot of scrapes and bruises.”

  “I’m having a lot of nausea, dizziness, and disorientation, too.”

  Bael nodded and said, “Concussion. I’ll inject an anti-inflammatory. Don’t go to sleep until I have a chance to check it out and clear you, sir.” The corpsman pulled an injector and put an ampule inside it. He pressed the nozzle against Patho’s bare forearm and hit the button, causing the device to fire the medication into him with a sharp rasp of air. He then pulled out another ampule. “This is a mild pain med. It won’t make you any woozier than you already are. I suggest you turn the situation over to Mister Hilleman as soon as possible, sir.”

  “Thank you, Bael.” Patho paused while the younger man injected the pain med. “I’ll come down to sickbay as soon as I can.”

  Bael nodded and said, “Sir.” He then withdrew from the bridge.

  Patho’s head felt a lot clearer the pain rapidly subsided, but his stomach continued to roil and threaten to empty itself onto the deck. He looked at the plot. Two ring ships were flanking both sides of the asteroid belt at a distance of roughly a hundred thousand kilometers behind. If Gorgon left the belt, they would be able to pounce. He considered the situation. “What’s the repair time for the energy accumulators?”

  Guiles spoke from the operations console to his left. “Another four hours, sir.” Patho gave him a sharp look. “It’s not the manufacturing time, sir. The new parts are already made. It’s the installation time. The accumulators are huge. Even with gravity shut off in the area, it’s a lot of mass to move around.”

  “Okay, Guiles. Keep Mister Uller on it. We need the point to point drive as soon as possible.”

  “Aye, sir,” Guiles said. He returned his attention to his console.

  “Patho steepled his fingers in front of him. “They won’t let this continue for much longer. We can’t let them have the initiative. Are the two mines done?”

  “Yes, sir,” Hilleman said.

  “Good. I want to get us back into stealth. Before I do that, load our remaining mines and launch them. We’ll detonate the mines just before we go dark. Once we engage the stealth systems, proceed on an exact reciprocal course from the one we’ve been maintaining. With luck, we can surprise them. We’ll get more mines on each of the rings here and see if we can at least make them back off. That should give us enough room to leave this asteroid belt. In the meantime, our sensor logs should allow us to avoid any potentially dangerous collisions as we go back through an area where we’ve already been.”

  “Aye, sir,” Hilleman said. He tapped at his console and said, “I’m converting our logs to a chart for the computer to use. It won’t be perfect, but it’s a lot better than flying through here blind.”

  Patho nodded. “There’s not a really good choice. They have us boxed in here.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hilleman said. His console beeped at him a few seconds later. “Mines are ready for launch.”

  “Proceed, Exec,” Patho ordered.

  The twelve mines nudged themselves out of the launch tubes gently and turned in opposite directions. They vanished from sensors almost immediately.

  “Normal launch, sir,” Hilleman said.

  “Very well,” Patho acknowledged. He watched the estimates of the mines’ position. After a long wait, the computer estimated all of them were in place. “Detonate all mines on the two closest Woduur ships.”

  A ripple of explosions erupted across both rings. Chunks of gleaming silver hull flew in nearly every direction. One of the ships slowed and began to wobble, its flight path becoming erratic. A few seconds later, it regained control over its movements and closed back in on the asteroid field.

  Patho sighed. It had been too much to hope that one of the massive dreadnaughts would be destroyed by so few mines. “Get us into stealth.”

  Gorgon slowed to maximum stealth speed and vanished from the Woduur sensors a few seconds later. The ship doubled back on its previous heading. The ring ships swept past, continuing their original course. Patho watched the tactical plot. The ring ships continued for about another minute before they stopped and turned to face the asteroid belt.

  “Sir, energy readings indicate their manufacturing rings are active,” Guiles reported.

  “Any sign of what they’re doing?” Patho asked.

  “No, sir. They may be trying to pick up damaged sections of their hull from the mine attack.”

  “Very well. Let’s maneuver out of this asteroid field.” Patho pulled up the chart of the system they were in. Eleven planets gave him a lot of possibilities. “Let’s head for the eighth planet. It’s a small gas giant with four moons. Not a lot of clutter, but enough for us to hide in if they start getting froggy again.”

  “Hilleman nodded and said, “We should try to recover some of our drones as well. We might need to repurpose them for more mines.”

  “Good thinking, Exec. Plan the course to pick up any drones that are on the way.” Patho rubbed his face His stomach had slowed down considerably, but it still wasn’t completely happy with the situation. “Keep watch here. Don’t detonate any more of the mines until I give the order. I don’t want to send any signals that might give away our position. I’m going to head down to sickbay and let the doc take care of me. Try to get some of the crew rotated out for some rest as well.”

  “Aye, sir,” Hilleman said before turning his attention to the quartermaster and saying, “I have the watch.”

  Patho walked through the small hatchway and almost ran into Aves.

  Aves fell in beside Patho and said, “Morning, Captain.”

  Patho looked over at the Marine and said, “Morning, Brent.” The Marine Major was giving him a funny look. “What is it?”

  “You’re covered in blood. I hope you’re headed down to see the doc.”

  Patho nodded, “That’s where I’m headed.”

  “Mind if I walk with you?”

  “Not at all.”

  The Marine was silent for a few seconds before he said, “What do you think about trying to board one of these ships?”

  Patho’s mind whirled at the unexpected idea. “Well, I’m not sure. I think the question is: why would you want to board one of those ships?”

  “Recon, intel g
athering, possibly even relieving them of one of their ships.”

  Patho sighed and said, “I’m not sure. What if they have ten thousand troops on those ships? You’d be overrun in seconds.”

  “You’re right, sir, but we can’t just continue to run from these people. We have to get enough information about them to stand and fight. If that means we risk a few lives, then it’s a small price to pay.”

  Aves’ idea had a kind of merit to it, but without at least a vague idea of what the Marines might face on board one of the ring ships, Patho was reticent to consider the it. “I like the idea, Brent, but we have to find a way to maximize the chances of success. Until and unless we know how to accomplish the mission, you’re effectively jumping in with both feet and your eyes closed. Once we have some breathing room, we can go over the information we have and try to make it happen.”

  “Good enough, sir. Thanks,” Aves said. He peeled off a few seconds later as Patho arrived at sickbay.

  Sickbay was a generous term. The space was a small curtained off alcove in the side of one of the passageways. There was just enough room for the autodoc, a large capsule like device that could correct most injuries and ailments under the guidance of a human operator, a small table, and two chairs. The back bulkhead was dominated by sets of drawers that went from the deck to the overhead. Everything the corpsman used to maintain the health of the crew was stored in those drawers. On board a small ship, the corpsman was affectionately referred to as ‘doc” by long tradition.

  Bael was sitting in one of the chairs when Patho knocked at the entrance. “Come in,” he said. “Please have a seat, Captain.”

  Patho sat in the other chair, and Bael pulled a large bar mounted to an articulating arm from the ceiling. He activated the device, causing it to hum and emit a soft white glow, and slowly passed it over and around Patho’s head.