Redemption: Book 2 of Warner's World

by Dave O'Connor

  “WILCO” said Steff and began barking orders for her group to break contact. She divided them into two groups and they began to fire and move their way back. She ran into Rufus on the way. He looked pleased for the company and he stuck with her till they reached Sue’s position.

  “Rufus go ahead to the caves, make sure Jelka is setup to receive borders.”

  Rufus had wanted to stop and rest but the pulse rounds now twanging overhead convinced him otherwise. He pushed off.

  “Heeley go back about 100 and down 50. Deploy and shoot at anything that approaches…other than us.”

  “Yes Maam.”

  Sue was on her knee looking through the scope on her rifle. She could see some movement down the slope. “Movement 100m half right, three rounds fire” she ordered and a volley of pulse fire twanged into the undergrowth down the slope. Movement stopped.

  Firing erupted from the soldiers on her left. Someone finally reported after the firing petered out that they saw three figures to their half left. They were trying to outflank her.

  “Fowlsit” hailed Sue.

  “Yes Chalker.”

  “We’re being pressed by possibly a platoon strength force. We can hold here for now. Wenra is safe. What’s your position?”

  “We have repulsed another assault. Many dead rogan. They have brought in reinforcements. Ammo starting to get low. But we may hold.”

  “How many troops does a dragon class ship carry?”

  “100... maybe more. Its’ the fighters I am most worried about.”

  “Understood. Help is coming.”

  “Let’s hope it is soon.”

  Chapter 13. Chicago over Fulmar 1205, 4 February

  Captain John Barsukov, the commander of the Chicago, was in for a shock as his capital ship came out of warp over what he had expected to be friendly space. He was temporarily overwhelmed by the data being bombarded at him.

  His battle systems specialist was declaring hostile cap at 12,000 kms. His comms officer was trying to inform him of the series of incoming FLASH messages. He focused on the words ‘orders’ and ‘defend’ and then on ‘incoming missiles’.

  “Engage cap. Engage incoming missiles” he ordered. The offensive battle systems specialist launched 60 long range missiles. The defensive specialist committed 70 to take on the 35 incoming threats and then ordered the pulse cannons to engage at will.

  “Get me Soln control on line” ordered Barsukov.

  “No answer” replied his comms officer.

  “Four hostile fighters inbound” called out the defensive specialist. “Engaging.”

  “There are another three below within the atmosphere” called out the offensive specialist. “There are also four transports on the runway at the sleth settlement.”

  “So they are under attack” concluded Barsukov. “The cap is the key. We cannot intervene below till we deal with this threat…and the fighters.”

  “Another 30 incoming missiles launched. Engaging.”

  Barsukov followed the missiles on the big holo display in the middle of the control centre. He could see his own missiles heading for the enemy cap and the defensive missile tracks trying to intercept. It was a sea of lines now. So he looked instead at the data display that maintained a dynamic tally of hostile and friendly missiles.

  There were 65 incoming hostile missiles in two batches. He was hoping that his superior number of defensive missiles would prevail. So far he could only see 30 enemy defensive missiles targeting his 60 offensive ones. ‘This looks promising’ he thought.

  The specialists were counting down the time to intercept. ‘Not long now’ thought Barsukov. He was almost willing his missiles on.

  “Have we got comms yet?” he asked.

  “No Sir, nothing with the sleth or our mission.”

  He forgot about that as the dynamic tally began flashing with status updates. The first batch of incoming hostiles was being engaged.

  “8 leakers from first batch. Engaging 1 for 1.” Another 8 defensive short range missiles were launched. They would have just enough time to deploy and intercept.

  The offensive specialist announced “We still have 43 runners.”

  Barsukov craned to see if there were any new tracks from the enemy cap. He saw none. ‘Am I right to assume they have no more missiles?’ he asked himself. ‘Maybe they have used them all up on the ground attack.’

  “5 leakers from second batch. Engaging 1 for 1.”

  “2 leakers from first batch. Brace.”

  Everyone in the ship braced for impact. But they didn’t need to. The cannons dealt with them.

  “Enemy engaging our missiles with close range systems. We have hits.”

  The tally ticked over and over before settling on 29 hits. Barsukov knew that was a massive hit. Cheers erupted in the control centre. He let them rejoice for a moment, knowing that his defensive specialist would be bringing them back to a sober reality.

  “3 leakers from batch 2. Brace.”

  This time they were hit twice. The ship shuddered with each impact.

  Barsukov waited patiently for the preliminary damage report which he knew would come soon.

  “Hits at E4 and E7” barked his damage control officer. He was now hailing engineering to ascertain the extent and effect. Barsukov was anxious. Hits in engineering always had the potential to affect their ability to move.

  “Fire at E4. Team despatched. Decompression contained in E7.”

  “Casualties?” asked the Captain.

  There was a pause. “Two Sir, both wounded.”

  “Stay on it DCO. Get that fire out.”

  “Roger.”

  There were still the fighters to deal with. These were always harder to take down with missiles, not because they had a smaller radar cross section, which they didn’t, but because they could deploy a greater range of counter measures and were more manoeuvrable. In all the commotion that accompanied the hits Basukov lost track of the fact that two of the fighters had been destroyed but the other two pressed on and would soon be in range to launch their own short range missiles. ‘Oh for some fighters of my own’ he said to himself.

  “Eight hostile missiles incoming. Brace” Basukov knew it was too late to intercept these with his own defensive missiles. So they had to pray their cannons did the trick. The fighters were banking away now and returning to their cap.

  “Engaging enemy fighters.”

  The cannons railed against the incoming missiles but four got through. All at the rear of the big ship.

  “Hits in Engineering from E1 to E7.”

  Basukov was now worried. He could just imagine the chaos back there. This time there would be more casualties and probably from the damage control teams already committed. But he didn’t need the DCO report to know that they had just lost some power. He could feel the ship slowing.

  “Drive capacity at 70%. Fires in E2 to 5.”

  “Twenty six casualties.”

  Basukov felt the blow like a dagger to his heart. He noticeably shook and grabbed hold of the station in front of him. His XO, Cmdr Lester Strong ran to assist and called for medical assistance. Basukov slumped to the floor clutching his chest. Strong yelled out “Medic!”

  Strong desperately tried to remember his CPR training. He started pumping his commander’s chest. The ops officer, LCmd Mick Riley, raced out of the comms centre and physically grabbed someone in the corridor and told them to get down to the med bay. By the time Mick got back Strong had stopped his efforts and the Captain was still. “Shit” he cried out.

  “Two more fighters launched” called out the defensive specialist. He reckoned the XO was preoccupied and this was not the time to wait around for a command, so he yelled “Engaging.”

  The offensive specialist took his lead and called out “Twenty missiles away.”

  Round 2 was now underway. Strong was regaining his senses. He looked up at the holo display then back at his boss’s dead body, then back to the faces around the centre. They were all
looking to him for leadership. “Take those suckers down” he yelled at the defensive specialist. His dander was up and he wanted revenge. “Pilot close with the enemy cap.” He then hailed his Marine commander, LCmd Adele Trusso “Prepare to launch boarding party, two platoons strong. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  Mick Riley moved to Strong. “Not a good idea Sir” he said in a quiet voice.

  “What” said Strong in a loud voice.

  “You going with the boarding party. Not good . Your place is here.”

  “Oh shut up Mick. You’ll do fine here” and Strong stormed out.

  Mick couldn’t believe it. ‘So much for all the training’ he said to himself. Now he felt the gaze of those left in the centre.

  “Yes!” cried out the defence specialist. “Scratch two fighters.”

  Mick was relieved. Any good news was welcome. He glanced at the holo display and realised that their missiles were now about to impact on the enemy cap.

  “Thirteen hits called out the offensive specialist.”

  Another cheer went up. They were winning. ‘Maybe Lester was right’ thought Mick. But part of him still had reservations. He hailed Strong “Sir please don’t lead this boarding party.”

  “I’m going Mick now deal with it.”

  The medic finally arrived saw the body and his shoulders slumped. He asked Mick to get out of the way. The flight leader for the warthogs announced they were launching. Mick followed their tracks on the display. But then he saw other tracks. “Shit” he called out “what are they.”

  The defence specialist looked up from his station, saw the tracks Mick was referring to, then returned to his display and announced “Three fighters climbing from the surface.”

  “Terrific” called out Mick. “Whisky Sunray you have three hostiles climbing from the surface to intercept.” He checked the data and continued “Will be in range in ten minutes. Am engaging. Recall now.”

  “Engage” he yelled at the defensive specialist.

  “Missiles away.”

  Strong’s voice came over the channel from Whisky Sunray “We are not aborting. Deal with them.”

  Mick watched the display. He had a bad feeling in his stomach. He saw the missile track close with the fighters. He saw two of them disappear. But the third one pressed on and upwards.

  The defensive specialist fired off another two missiles at the fighter but everyone knew that these would be too late.

  “Time for enemy fighter to intercept Whisky?” he queried.

  “Five minutes” answered the offensive specialist.

  “ETA for Whiskey?”

  “Five minutes.”

  Mick pulled at his hair. Here he was powerless now to intervene.

  “We need more help down here” hailed the engineering chief.

  “Right” said Mick. He hailed the log officer and told her to deal with the fires. By the time he finished he gazed back at the holo display. Whisky flight was heading straight for the hangers of the enemy cap. The enemy cap seemed oblivious to the threat, didn’t have the capacity to respond or didn’t care. Mick was praying it was not the latter.

  The enemy fighter closed to within its missile range but did not fire. Mick assumed that it was because the warthogs were too close to the enemy cap. The fighter track indicated it was looping around for another pass.

  “We’ve lost Whisky 1 and Whisky 2” called out the offensive specialist.

  “What do you mean lost?” queried Mick.

  “Destroyed Sir.”

  Mick could not believe what he was hearing. He knew that Lester was on Whisky 1 and Adele on Whisky 2.

  “Chicago this is BlueStrike 3.”

  “Chicago, go ahead” hailed Mick.

  “We’re in the enemy hangar under severe fire. Only half the flight touched down and we are taking casualties. We need help now.”

  Micks’ attention, however, was focussed on the fighter track and the missiles it had just launched. They were on course to intercept with Whisky 3 and 4 on their return leg. The warthogs had fired their defensive missiles.

  Everything was now coming to climax.

  “Fighter destroyed” yelled the offensive specialist.

  “Whisky 3 destroyed” said a deflated defensive specialist. The sole surviving craft, Whisky 4 limped away damaged. Mick slumped back onto his chair.

  Chapter 14. Soln 1315, 4 February

  Fowlsit knew that something was happening above the planet when the fighters stopped their ground attacks and climbed away rapidly. He cursed the loss of his radar and the loss of his comms terminal. Both had been destroyed with the initial fighter attacks. He took comfort in the fact that at least now there was a let up in the attacks.

  The ground around the S3 complex was now relatively open. The midday sun beamed through the gap in the canopy like a blow torch. Much of the big trees and lower undergrowth had been blown to bits by the fighter attacks. The enemy had paid a heavy price in their last assault across this space. That was two hours ago and now a stalemate had been reached on the ground. The enemy lacked the numbers to overrun them but they did have them bottled up inside the complex.

  He had considered the option of a counter attack but after discussing with his commanders and with Sue had decided it was too risky. Above all he wanted to conserve the lives of the precious few that remained. So the agreed plan was to hold on and wait for relief from the humans.

  He suspected that some intervention had just occurred. He hailed Sue “Chalker it’s been an hour now. Why do we not see Federation transports?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe the battle is still going on. We need to signal our presence some way.”

  “Agree but how. All our long range communication gear is out.”

  “I have my emergency beacon. It sends out a signal in the case of emergency so I can be located.”

  “Won’t the rogan use it to find you?”

  “They could but they already know where we are.”

  “Use it Chalker. Let them know.”

  Chapter 15. Redneck 5 over Fulmar 1330, 4 February

  Art checked his sensors immediately they came out of warp. To his surprise there were two caps present. One was the Chicago and the other he presumed was the rogan cap that took off from Xizu.

  He was some 8,000kms from the Chicago and 12,000 from the rogan cap. He expected to see missiles firing in both directions and now probably at him. But there were none.

  “Why aren’t they firing?” asked Val.

  “I don’t have a clue.”

  “Unknown craft this is FFS Chicago, identify yourself.”

  “Chicago this is Redneck 45. We are a Federation craft under the command of the Hermes. Permission to dock.”

  “Identify yourself.”

  “Lt Simons.”

  There was a noticeable pause in the conversation. Finally, “permission granted.”

  Mick Riley met them in the hanger. There were brief introductions and a somewhat perfunctory briefing where they exchanged accounts.

  “So the rogan cap got here first and it didn’t launch nukes but rather launched a ground assault?” asked Art.

  “That’s right. Why did you think they would nuke?”

  “Past experience. Anyway that scotches my theory.”

  “What theory?”

  “That they were coming here to finish off the sleth.”

  “Well their ground attack was probably doing a pretty good job until we arrived.”

  “Why bother with additional risk and time. There must be some other reason, something that the sleth have that they want. But what?”

  “I have no idea but what I do know is that I have 20 marines inside the hangar of that cap.”

  “Why not get them off and blow the cap away?”

  “The only warthog we have is damaged. It barely made it back at all. I’m not prepared to sacrifice all those people.”

  “No” agreed Art. “And they’re cap is obviously disabled. Otherwise they’d have warped aw
ay.”

  “Correct. It’s a Mexican standoff of sorts.”

  “And you’re hoping the Hermes will allow you to carry the fight and secure the enemy cap.”

  Mick nodded.

  “Sounds reasonable to me. What about the situation down below?”

  “Don’t know. They don’t have comms but an emergency beacon has been activated so I don’t believe they have been overrun. Sensors indicate explosions around what was the settlement. We know that the rogan had fighters active down there. We ended up destroying them when they intervened up here.”

  “Are there any more enemy fighters about?”

  “No I think we have accounted for them all.”

  “And they have transports on the runway?”

  “Four but they have not dared move.”

  Art was thinking fast. A plan was crystallising. “What if you could gain control of those transports.”

  “Depends on whether we can get them to fly. That’s a big risk. I’m assuming you’re talking about using your craft to ferry some troops down there. The other issue is I only have twenty four marines left on board. It might not be enough.”

  “But there may be sleth troopers down there willing to help.”

  “You’re forgetting that there is probably the better part of fifty or more enemy marines down there otherwise the sleth would be in control and talking to us now.”

  Art nodded his understanding. He was starting to get exasperated. Then a light turned on in his brain. “We’re operating in the dark about what’s going on down there. In any event the answer to the most important question is down there and I need to go down there and find it. Can you give me some comms gear and a team of marines?”

  “Look my main priority is to my ship and crew and the mission we have been given, which is to secure this planet. I can’t do that until this enemy cap is dealt with. I’m not about to commit a third of my remaining marines down to the surface. Not at this stage anyway.”

  “Riley you need to see the big picture here. We have an alien craft that has penetrated deep into our space and initiated an act of war. Not a hit and run nuke attack but a ground attack. There must be something so important down there that they are prepared to take such risks. Don’t you think that it’s in our strategic interest to find out what that is and then to prevent it.”