“We don’t have to become protectors of the weak, but I like that idea myself. None of us has to become something they don’t like, and any of us can become almost whatever we want to be. With our long Prada-like lives, each of us will surely be multiple things over the course of a long enough life.”
Maggi gave him a sidewise glance. “And you always describe yourself as a simple Spacer. You have never given yourself the credit you deserve. Those of us who love and respect you give you that credit, despite your objections, and we’ll continue to do so.”
She saw him blush. “That red faced embarrassment is one of the reasons we admire and follow you. You’re humble, unpretentious, and fun to tease.”
Uncomfortable with personal complements, he changed subjects, as usual. “Jorl Breaker linked to me before Nabarone did, when you were down eating. His fifty-ship squadron reached their first Krall world. It’s the closest one to Koban, and once belonged to the extinct Malverans. It was held by the Dorbo clan, the first Krall clan that tried to live on Koban. They found eight domes, and twenty-four clanships parked around them. They had the proper landing code and they were able to descend unopposed, disabling the clanships and nine shuttles on the eight tarmacs in minutes. Anti-ship missiles for the clanships, and they landed and fired Denial chipped slugs at the shuttles. They shot at the roof of the domes to disable the command centers up there, but didn’t try to enter the domes from the surface.
“Richard Yan piloted one of the ships, and he landed by a woods where the only Prada village they found was located. The nearby dome had an underground factory, so Richard, with his stealth switched off at first, caught and Mind Tapped some of the frightened Prada. Then with several of his crew, they entered the village tunnel and went down into the factory. Inside, they climbed up to where the dome’s first level fusion generators were located. Activating suit stealth, they walked to within a hundred feet of the generators before any Krall knew they were inside and reacted. It seems a Prada elder followed them up and called out a warning.”
“I hope none of them hurt that Prada.”
“Of course not. Although, the Krall that drew their weapons can’t say the same. Richard and his boys, and I do mean boys, gunned them all down. They switched off the generators and the dome and factory went electrically dead. Because there already were warriors swarming out onto the tarmac, intending to enter their disabled clanships and two shuttles, Richard decided to lead his three teenagers back through the factory and Prada village to their ship.”
“What about the twenty-four clanships?”
“Jorl sent eighty-eight people, four per ship, to fly them out. Only two of them were occupied when they entered. His squadron now can boast seventy-two ships, but he only has the eight hundred people, sixteen per ship, that he started with. All of them are under the age of twenty. Hell all six of those squadrons are like that. Most of the cream of our youth. These new ships are crewed with youngsters that only have Mind Tap knowledge of how to fly them.”
“Ahem,” she nudged him. “What was your clanship flight experience the first time you lifted the Mark? You had Mind Tap knowledge that came from a Krall, passed second hand through Carson, Ethan, or Alyson. Our kids today know everything we’ve learned since then, from other Kobani.”
“You’re right. They’re better prepared than I was on my first flight, and they have much better physical ability than I had when I flew to Poldark, with only clone mods. It’s hard to grasp how they’ve grown. Our most experienced flight crews stayed behind to form the fleet staying over K1, our spec ops had to go to Poldark with Thad, and to New Dublin with Manwell. I have a bunch of experienced raiders with me, to face the Guardians. Most of our noncombat folks, who only went to K1 to defend our home, went back to Koban. The youngest of the full Kobani is all I had to send into Krall territory.”
“Well, their first action inside enemy territory went pretty well, apparently.”
“Yes. I hadn’t thought about any of them getting into a possible ground combat situation. Most of the rippers went to Poldark and New Dublin, and we have ten with us. Only Kobalt and the other two wounded cats went back to Koban. Aldry says all of them will make full recoveries, and that she has a surprise for us when we get home. Wouldn’t give me a hint either. Do you know?”
“A surprise? No. I spoke to her aboard the Vanguard before we left K1, but she didn’t say anything to me then. It may have to do with the new modifications Rafe and she were making on the med labs, to make them more comfortable for a ripper. We had thought the cats would like to lie on their sides, as they do at home when relaxing. Instead, they wanted to stay on their bellies, heads resting on paws. It lets them see over the sides easier when the top is opened, and they can see the area around them through the bubble window Rafe added. They show less stress than a human does when confined for so long, and they preferred to stay awake rather than sleep through the nanite repairs. I think it’s the predator life style, of patiently waiting for prey, and waiting for the next hunt to start as they digest their last big meal. Aldry feeds them very well while they heal.”
****
The days passed, and the main occupation on the Mark and the other ships in the fleet seeking Telour, was the tedious task of extracting the chips from plasma rifles, packed in the hundreds of cases they had brought with them. The other groups had been given the more compact pallets of rifle power packs, which yielded their chips easier and faster, because the other fleets had shorter journeys and less time to work. The rifles had to be partly dismantled to extract their denial chip, but at least there was no need to reassemble them.
Four days into their trip, they heard about how forty of Manwell’s fleet Jumped from behind a giant Saturn analogue, to White Out over New Dublin. The ships acted as if they were being pursued by Commander Molotov’s squadron, which dove at them firing anti-ship missiles, and there was a flurry of Planetary Defense Command missiles launched from General Masterfem’s bases, which also appeared intended to pick off some of the newly arrived clanships.
Manwell’s ships dove into the atmosphere, in a move typical of Krall pilots, daring the enemy to try to hit them, firing laser cannons and plasma bolts at the enemy ships and incoming missiles. The Krall clanships already on New Dublin of course allowed the new arrivals to descend unchallenged, and the incoming friendly clanships were coincidentally located between the ring of heavy plasma cannons on the surface, and the tightly clustered heavy cruisers of the navy. The ground defense batteries couldn’t fire on the enemy without firing through the twisting and dodging supply ships.
It didn’t appear much of a defense was needed anyway for the supply vessels. The human forces held their distance, and their anti-ship missiles seemed to be oddly ineffective. They missed their targets repeatedly, and the heavier PDC missiles, streaking over the Krall lines, all exploded long before reaching their intended targets. The invasion on New Dublin, still within its first three months, had occupied considerably less area that the Poldark invasion forces had conquered in two and a half years. Here, clans and equipment were concentrated in a smaller area, but they were well defended.
The small enemy missiles that rained down in their hundreds, passed completely through the forty clanships without producing a single explosion. Several missiles actually were seen to make contact, but deflected and continued down. Their proximity fusing had inexplicably failed. They then struck on or near a few of the grounded clanships, which had hesitated to fire counter missiles of their own, for fear of hitting their own supply craft. There still were no explosions. Many of the missiles landed off target, near the weapons storage areas, and others hit harmlessly next to many of the heavy plasma batteries.
To the Krall, it was an astounding demonstration of human ineptitude. However, the inbound supply ships would be landing in moments, even though they had started to scatter widely over the occupied territory. Once they were down and out of the way, there would be a mass of counter fire and launches of clanships to
drive the enemy away. If the enemy failed to Jump away, as they normally did when confronted with an equal number of clanships, they would suffer many time the losses they inflicted.
Then, an amazing Krall strategy was revealed to the ground observers. Hundreds of clanships suddenly executed White Outs, a hundred miles behind the human squadron of sixty heavy cruisers. It was a trap, and now the navy was caught in a vise. At least three thousand anti-ship missiles were launched at those heavy cruisers, now barely two hundred miles above the planet, also placing them in range of the heavy batteries about to have a clear sky to fire at them. The incoming missiles quickly closed the hundred-mile gap to the enemy. Apparently, the human navy had not been prepared to Jump yet, expecting to have time to fire another salvo of missiles at the forty supply ships.
****
Gatlek Pendor, secure in his deeply buried bunker, had been alerted as soon as the forty supply clanships did their White Outs. He’d raced to his command console, to observe, and to direct if needed, the defense of this welcome addition to his supplies of heavy equipment and small arms. They were even low on dried Raspani jerky, and front line warriors often had to eat local animals. One octet of novices learned why eating the enemy was a poor substitute for proper field rations. A captured human nest that failed to evacuate soon enough, paid the price. The result was the barracks type stories of any army, about how terrible the local food was, that humans, even when young, were worse cooked than raw.
The first wave of enemy missiles were passing through his precious supply ships as Pendor arrived at his console monitors. The tight clustering of the inbound clanships was helping shield the enemy behind them from his strongest defenses, which were centered within five miles of his bunker. Suddenly, as the enemy missiles were about to reach the clanships, they finally did the sensible thing and scattered in all directions, so the enemy, now within range of his heavy batteries would soon be exposed to ground fire. None of the navy missiles managed to hit any of the supply ships, and the heavier PDC missiles were apparently shot down by alert front line clans, well before they reached the targeted clanships. The level of inexperienced fighting skills of the humans at New Dublin was being clearly demonstrated. After years of fighting on Poldark, the enemy was more proficient there.
His heavy battery commander was waiting only for the Gatlek to clear him to initiate return fire, once the supply craft were safely out of the way. Suddenly there was the startling sound of alarms, and flashes on monitors registered many White Outs. The computer numbers indicated three hundred sixty clanships had just appeared, only a hundred miles behind and above the closely clustered heavy cruisers. The clanships emerged firing thousands of anti-ship missiles. This was an ambush of the navy, exactly as they had done against the Krall fleet at K1. The navy squadron was hugely outnumbered and badly positioned.
Telour, or one of his sub leaders, had known exactly how the human squadron would respond to an attempt to infiltrate so many heavily laden and slow supply ships all at once. The squadron would Jump close to attack, close enough that their missiles would reach the atmospheric hindered and heavily loaded clanships before they could land.
The other clanships of the Krall trap had timed their arrival perfectly, and the heavy cruisers would take severe losses or damage, even if they were intending to Jump away before the ground-based attacks could reach them. They would have been expecting clanship and anti-ship missile launches from the planet’s surface, which was three times as far away. That three hundred mile buffer would provide them time to make their escape, but not from an attack barely a hundred miles behind them, and in such numbers. It was a brilliant plan.
The shine started to tarnish from that plan as the first wave of hundreds of navy missiles passed harmless through the dodging supply craft. It was gratifying that they had missed their targeted clanships, but now they continued towards the ground instead of turning towards the original evading targets, or exploding harmlessly when their proximity fusing and onboard computers calculated they were never going to be any close to their targets than they were. The missiles, most of which were headed at the area that had been below the supply ships, would come down within the dense defensive ring of clanships that Pendor kept around his bunker, and within the five mile ring of heavy plasma cannons.
Again, they did only minor damage to a few pieces of equipment directly hit in the crowded staging areas, some even scraped the hulls on a number of clanships, and hit some small arms catches, but there were no explosions. He released his battery commander to fire conditionally, just as soon as last of the supply clanships passed beyond the ring’s perimeter.
He returned his attention to the missiles about to destroy many of the navy ships. The enemy was so flustered they hadn’t even initiated defensive laser fire, or launched decoys to divert any of the missiles. Human reaction time was notoriously slow, but their AI’s were normally faster than Krall reactions by far.
Incredibly, those missiles started passing targets without detonating. A few glanced off hulls, noticeable by the bent thruster contrails after they diverged. Abruptly, the sixty-five heavy cruisers winked out, in a perfectly coordinated mass Jump. The first properly coordinated thing they had managed to accomplish. The supply ships had just cleared the rim of the ring of waiting cannons, but there were no targets for them now.
One of his aides called to get his attention. “What is it?” He snarled. He had his supplies, and more, but the humans had paid no price, even after falling into a trap.
“My Gatlek, our own missiles continue to descend. With no targets, they should have ceased acceleration, turned away from the planet and disarmed their warheads, to await collection, fresh propellant, and reuse. They are still coming at us, as did the human missiles.”
In an instant, Pendor was broadcasting to whoever the commander was of the fleet overhead. “This is Gatlek Pendor. Your missiles have not turned away. Disarm their warheads or initiate self-destruct immediately. Who is the commander Telour placed in charge?”
Not only was no reply sent, but the missile defense commander, in charge of the next row of consoles, reported another salvo of anti-ship missiles had just been launched.
“My leader, there was no advance warning this time because they are no longer using radar tracking or guidance, as they did when they fired at the human ships. These missiles have no designated targets, and without guidance the first salvo, already deep in atmosphere, are not guided either. They are coming like a random aerial bombardment. Why did they fire more missiles?”
Pendor turned and shouted at the communications consoles. “Did any of the supply ships contact you for landing instructions?”
“Not yet my leader.”
He snarled a Krall curse, and said, “None of these ships are ours, this is a human trick. Fire at them all. Do it now!”
The orders started going out to all the clan bunkers, because even the Gatlek could not bypass their clan leaders and issue orders to their warriors without their concurrence. At least he had instant authority over his clan’s own forces, and Maldo clan was those that immediately surrounded his bunker. He’d learned from Telour’s treachery to surround himself with those loyal to him. That foolishly overlooked the fact that Telour had arranged for his own clan mate’s death. That was when he had Pendor kill Kanpardi. Ambition within his own ranks could also be used against him.
Today, his sub leaders and aides would all respond fiercely to his call to fight and kill their treacherous enemy. Using his clan’s general alert frequency, he ordered every Mordo warrior and clanship to fire on the arriving supply clanships, and at those located three hundred miles overhead. In practical terms, ground launched anti-ship missiles would be easily destroyed or evaded as they covered three hundred miles, so only the heavy plasma cannons had any real chance of inflicting damage at that orbital altitude. Several batteries would have to coordinate and focus on a single target even then. At only one or two hundred miles, an atmosphere and range attenuated sin
gle plasma bolt would have retained enough heat and energy to be a significant risk. The enemy had stayed out where it was a medium to low risk unless hit by two or more near light speed bolts simultaneously.
The first of the thick ring of Mordo clanships around his buried bunker fired their lasers and plasma cannons, destroying hundreds of the thousands of incoming missiles, which all seemed destined to strike within miles of the center of the strong point he’d created around his bunker. The hypervelocity missiles were already below twenty miles, and more seemed to be surviving than should be the case, although he knew they were never going to stop them all. As he looked over at the defensive coordinators, their monitors showed amber colored symbols, which indicated there were gaps in the defensive ring of clanships, where there should have been automatically coordinated laser and plasma fire, controlled by the sub leaders here in his bunker.
“Why are so many clanship commanders not coordinating our defensive fire through you?” His words were not phrased in a tone that indicated it was a query. It was a demand.
“My Gatlek, we have multiple hands of clusters of three to four clanships that each respond to us by radio, but they can’t bring their weapons consoles online.”
“Were they damaged by the first missiles?”
“There were only near misses in most cases, my leader, but they say they have lost navigation and weapons control. They were also prepared, if you ordered them to do so, to launch their clanships or fire missiles. They are unable to do even that.”
He cursed again. “How many of this salvo will penetrate?”
Hesitant to sound pessimistic, but unable to lie to his Gatlek, he gave a two-part answer. “Where we have intact firing command, less than a fourth will reach the ground. In compromised areas,” he indicated three particularly dead areas, “There we will stop less than half. Of the first wave.” He added in apprehension.
Koban 5: A Federation Forged in Fire Page 15
