Star Angel: Rising (Star Angel Book 4)

by David G. McDaniel

  They had so little real information on the aliens. The fact that they had any information on the Kel still managed to stun Drake. And he was the one that had been immersed in this world. The things the Project was aware of were, in a word, fantastic. They knew the Bok had ties to the Kel. Now the Kel were here, after a thousand-year absence—though the main body of the Kel had never reached these shores, even in that distant past. Earth had been a hideout for the Bok, and the Bok themselves had been headed by Kel rebels. Some sort of priestess, persecuted, looking to bring forbidden knowledge to her people. That, at least, was history as recorded by the Bok, things the Project had only half believed before, but now that the Kel were here, and quite real, Drake was notching everything up the credibility scale.

  To the top.

  Only, they really knew no more than that. Interesting stuff, no doubt, but nothing to help them defeat the enemy.

  The President looked around the small group.

  “We need intel. We need more on what we’re up against. There’s nothing else we can intercept? Tap? All the brains at our disposal and we can’t get a better look at what we're facing?”

  Peterson looked to Drake. It wasn’t meant as an insult, but he took the brunt of the President’s frustration.

  “What do we expect them to do?”

  Glances passed among the anxious faces. Peterson spoke. “They’ll probably do the exact same thing we do to everyone else. Control the skies, knock out command and control then roll in and sweep up the rest.”

  The President nodded. “So we have to fight like our enemies?”

  “Maybe.”

  “How do they do it? What do they do?”

  One of the officers joked: “They lose.”

  It was a bad joke.

  Peterson moved on. “We should consider unconventional methods. The same asymmetrical warfare we’ve used with success on weaker, scattered opponents. We might turn that in the other direction. Quick strikes, so forth. Now we’re the weaker force, but we know how to fight that war.”

  “How do we strike them? They’re in space.”

  Blank stares. Of course that was the real issue.

  “We don’t yet know how they’re going to invade,” said one. “If they want to preserve our world for their use—which increasingly seems to be the case—they’re unlikely to bomb us from on high. Not heavily, anyway. Even surgical strikes would cause too much damage—and it would leave resistance intact. They have to have been studying us, our history. It’s all over our records. They must know by now our tenacity.”

  Peterson nodded. “They almost have to come down and overrun us. That or they land and establish beachheads somewhere. Either way, I say we range forces around key cities and resources. Wherever those forces are around the world. Small units. Scatter everything. Bring naval groups on station near key ports. And wait.”

  “Wait?”

  “They have to come to us. So get ready. Prepare to defend and wait. If they come, the fight is on. If they do something else … at least we’re not putting everything we’ve got all in one place. Key points are protected until we have time to figure out a response to whatever it is they end up doing.”

  “What if they just pick us off from orbit?”

  Peterson was beginning to look annoyed. “There’s nothing we can do to prevent that so why even waste time planning for it? If they have that as an option, if they do that then, well, we’re screwed. We’re already screwed but maybe if they can do that we’re totally screwed.

  “Look. We have to prepare for what we can. That’s all we can do. The rest may just be in the hands of God.”

  CHAPTER 14: PLANS

  “Your pet tests me.” The visage of Cee’s Praetor was stern on the huge screen in her throne room, his single eye gleaming, the other hidden behind its unnerving patch. “He serves no function.”

  “He is not my pet. And his function should be apparent.”

  “I would jettison him into space.”

  “Control him, Praetor. I count on you to run this operation and see to it he knows his place and works within it. Properly used he could be unleashed at will. A weapon. Threat of a force such as that, the havoc it would create, is invaluable.”

  Voltan’s pause was long, but he acquiesced with a nod.

  Cee’s mind was elsewhere. This whole revival of the Prophecy had her shaken, especially to the degree it was, infuriatingly, taking hold, expanding among the populace of Kel. In that there was merit to what Voltan suggested. The sudden absence of Kang must surely suck the wind from the sails of the uprising, central as the demon was to their beliefs. But Cee was not about to order Kang’s destruction out of her own fear. Getting rid of him might certainly remove a key part of that legacy, leaving the predictions of the ancient witch, Aesha, nowhere, but Cee had an idea that in the wake of such an action the ranks of the fanatics would only grow. Somehow, some way, they would find new meaning in Kang’s destruction. Rid them of the demon and they might claim it was the marker for which they waited, that the Golden Age was at hand and the Witch would be next through the gates.

  The only solution was the eradication of the zealots.

  Besides, despite the hatred of Kang by her Praetor, and any possible disruption of the Prophecy killing him might bring, Cee saw value in the monster. Kang was a tool, as she said, powerful one, and they might eventually use him to great effect.

  She moved on.

  “What are your next steps?”

  Voltan gathered his own thoughts before speaking. “This world is a nightmare.” He appeared more uncertain than in their last conference. “They have no way to come together under one banner. I thought at first this confusion would help us, but now I’m unsure.

  “We have no clear tactic,” he said. Cee didn’t like the sound of that. “In theory we could sit and wait. It is possible they would, given time, undo themselves. But we must move. We must act, now that we’ve leveled our demand. We do not have the luxury of time if we are to win the psychology of this war. The question is, how best to strike?”

  Cee shifted in her throne. “This does not bring me comfort, Praetor.”

  Voltan seemed to shrug, an aggravating whole-body expression at which he was quite adept. “Earth is far more diverse, far more populous and far more complicated than Kel. They haven’t our unity. It makes for a difficult task. Not in terms of force. We have plenty enough force. We could annihilate them easily.

  “Our problem lies in execution.” He looked at her, head and shoulders giant on the screen. “This many humans, flying this many flags, with as much technology as they do have … the circumstances are unlike any we could’ve predicted. If we faced this many tribes on a world with less technology, we could overrun them in a day. Round them up and make them do what we want. If we faced a single government, organized worldwide—even more advanced … That we could overrun and rule.

  “But this. As I say, this world is a nightmare.”

  “Where is your confidence, my great Praetor? Engage your warrior instinct.”

  “We will rule this world,” he said, rising in his own defense. “I have no lack of confidence where that is concerned. My concern is with the shape of the results. The fallout. The path to that end is not clear. Already they have an active culture of resistance, deeply rooted in some cases. All because of that very diversity. Already they fight amongst themselves; it will be a simple matter to turn those skills against us. Those who can’t stand directly against the bigger governments have developed effective means of hurting them. Imagine what difficulties we will face when the entire population is driven to the same sort of submission. We could be facing decades of skirmishes.

  “Therefore how we proceed on the initial assault, our first steps, will be key.”

  “I’m not interested in how many are left alive,” said Cee. “There are too many of them anyway. Use dissipating nerve toxins. Kill them in their population centers. EMP their command and control, bring down their vast and unwieldy
communications infrastructure, gas as many as you can and overwhelm them. Blast the remaining resistance, wait for the dust to clear and colonize. Nothing they have can penetrate our defenses. We are untouchable. They have no answer for us. Destroy them.”

  Voltan shook his head. “These all seem obvious solutions. We can bring the hammer down quite easily and stun them into submission. Or so it would seem. But I’ve been up here looking over their entirety of this world and its infrastructure, reviewing what we know and, long-term, I’m afraid such an approach won’t last.” Cee was about to protest but he went on: “I’ve had my tacticians calculate the coverage and effectiveness of toxins. A full, targeted release of a quantity we could sustain and mop up afterwards would not kill most of them. The particulars of distributions, habitat and all other factors are not relevant to this discussion. The point is, that would only get some, and then mostly the non-combatants. Their communications networks, by their very nature, disorganized and rampantly connected, can be attacked and crippled but likely not completely brought down. It would not fully blind them.

  “There are seven billion humans down there, gross numbers, of all affiliations and ideologies, and if we kill large swaths of them, especially with wanton disregard for non-militarized targets, the civilians as they consider themselves—and this is a point of their psychology profile that cannot be stressed enough: unlike us the humans are not of a mindset for war across all strata of society and, in fact, only small percentages of them are designated as warriors—if we kill large numbers of civilians the anger such a mass killing would breed could make colonization, true colonization, near impossible. If we approach this wrong the first fifteen years of our occupation will be spent cleaning up. As I say these humans have a knack for small localized skirmishes, terrorist actions and martyrdom. Not unlike the picture painted by our historical records of the Fetok of our past. No matter their inferiority they have an unreasonable will, bordering on suicidal. If we set them up in full opposition—against us—we may never fully control them.”

  “You’re not suggesting we actually entertain a negotiation.”

  “No. Not that. That too would go nowhere. What I’m suggesting is a modified approach.”

  Cee studied him carefully.

  “We have recently observed movement of forces,” said Voltan. “Around the globe. They have no way to strike us, and so they move into position. Taking a guess, in essence, which is really all they can do at this point. Some of the world’s governments are working together on what they believe to be their only strategy. And they may be right. Their plan, it seems, is to prepare their defenses around key points of interest, places they believe we would want or would attack, and wait. In truth this is really the only military option they have. They’re expecting us to take that bait, and I say we do.”

  “Why?”

  “These are their designated fighting forces. In the eyes of the world they are expected to bear the brunt of the attack. Their military, those chosen by the people to fight. If we engage only those targets and defeat them—as the world expects will happen—we accomplish two objectives. One, we remove our greatest possible resistance in our first action and, two, in the eyes of the very people we must control—and eventually rule—it makes us less of an evil force. We’re not killing civilians. We’re engaging combatants. This, in the end, plays to their psychology and may actually aid future compliance. Especially when faced with how quickly their defenders are rendered useless. If we go in like warriors and meet them, meet their military engagement head on—which they’re clearly setting for us—our warriors against their warriors in direct combat, we achieve a better position in the minds of the rest.

  “We will still meet with numerous difficulties following this initial phase, but I believe those difficulties will be far less than otherwise.” He stood a little straighter. “Everything we were going on, everything we came here expecting, based on Kang’s assessment of his own world, has changed. Obviously this world is different than we were expecting with Anitra. While about the same in terms of technological advancement—again, based solely on Kang—Earth is far more complex. Even the beast appears confused by it. I’ve given this much thought, and what we’re facing is like nothing for which we came prepared.

  “Utter annihilation … that we could pull off with relative ease. But that is not our end game. Doing so destroys too much of the infrastructure we need to preserve, and sets us in too much opposition with the inevitable survivors. Annihilation will not give us what we seek.”

  Cee held herself impassive.

  “And so what do you propose?”

  “I need to confer with my generals. But my overall proposal is this: Allow the Earth forces to move into place. Once done, engage a direct attack and destroy all that are assembled. Take the bait. Do what they expect. Minimize casualties to the rest of the population. Minimize collateral damage and, above all, make the attack complete and overwhelming. A show of force. Leave no question as to our superior might. Take out all the resistance they’re lining up so neatly, and do it through direct engagement. This makes the very real example that there is no answer to our force. It confirms what the people of Earth already suspect.

  “Once that phase is complete, engage a new dialog with world leaders. The diplomacy of this will be tricky, but I believe we may already have an advantage as it seems the leader of America, the major nation state spearheading this defense, is seen by the others to have overstepped his bounds. Unwittingly he’s alienated the Americans in certain ways. By presenting himself as the voice for all, many of the others have been offended. Though many nations reluctantly group for a concerted defense, backing the Americans, I believe they yet harbor resentment.

  “Once we’ve overwhelmed the Earth forces, if we then electively choose to speak directly with other states, excluding America from the initial dialogs, we may, under those circumstances, find limited agreement. Given the right options these other, rejected leaders—and there are other nations nearly as powerful as America—could quickly agree to new charters and rulership with less resistance.

  “Following that and with a consensus, America could likely also be brought in line.

  “If such actions are legitimized by their leaders the people of Earth will be far less likely to organize covert resistance. And even when they do we’ll be able to enlist the aid of the police forces of their very nations, rather than our own forces, having agreed to our terms.”

  Cee considered this.

  “Not perfect,” Voltan admitted, “and perhaps not the dominant, clean sweep we expected, but I believe it is our best course forward where Earth is concerned. It is a first step option toward complete rulership.”

  Cee sat straight.

  “Very well,” she said. “Make it so.”

  **

  The C-130 Hercules sat on the ramp behind a line of others, its quartet of turbo-props spinning at idle, whirring the air along with all the rest. The tarmac was filled with the buzz of their expectant surge and Heath was sure the prop wash of the cargo planes accounted for at least some of the stiff breeze whipping the open space. He and his small Spec Ops team stood with several squads of Marines, waiting to board. Gear had been checked and stowed, all preps were in order and they were about to be on their way. The call to action had finally come.

  They were heading first to Torrejon.

  “They’re up there,” Pete peered into the sky, talking above the din. “Right up there, somewhere.” He pointed tentatively, almost as if he might touch something, something way up there that would give him a shock. “Why are we getting in a bunch of Hercs?” He eyed the line of waiting planes, rear doors open and waiting, mighty blade discs spinning. “They’ll shoot these down like plinkin cans.”

  “I’m sure they could,” agreed Steve.

  Heath nodded. “I suppose they could shoot ‘em right now. Not sure what the intend. Or what they can do.” There really was no assurance to give. Truth was no one had any idea what th
ese alien Kel could do, and the plan the American leaders had come up with was ultimately more of a civilian-saving effort than anything. Suicide? Only time would tell. No one expected the world’s military forces to actually stand against the aliens, but they had no other choice so they were going to do what they signed up to do. Defend the homeland. Heath—and, as far as he’d been able to tell, most everyone else—was ready to fight and even die before suffering the alternative: complete subjugation by the invaders. No one wanted to roll over, which was the only choice they’d been given. And so they prepared to go to war.

  “Say we make it,” said Pete, still not sure they would even survive the flight. “What then? I still don’t get what we’re supposed to do.”

  Heath shrugged. “Command hopes they’ll come to us. Major says they don’t have any good intel on the aliens, don’t know what kind of weapons they’ll use, don’t know what kind of tactics … nothing.

  “But they believe they want what we’ve got. They’re human like us.”

  Pete snorted.

  “Human-ish,” Heath conceded. “Human enough they’ll have mostly the same needs. They’ll want our cities, they’ll want our manufacturing, our production—”

  “How can we know that?”

  “We can’t. Obviously we can’t. All we’ve got are good guesses.”

  Steve added: “They can’t just break the entire world, Pete. They’ve gotta leave it mostly working, which means they’ve gotta be careful about how they do this. Which means we might have a chance.”

  Heath agreed. “Come on, Pete. I need you positive. I don’t care how bad this gets. I need my Pete. You’ve never let me down and we’ve been up against plenty of stuff they said could never be done. We always pull it off.”