“There are, of course, some stipulations to our involvement within a combined military structure,” said the being.
Sean felt his heart drop for a moment, wondering what those constraints might be.
“We would want our task forces to remain intact, and preferably would like that to be true of task groups. Conversely, we would not wish control over human forces integrated lower than the task group level. It would not be logical to try and control forces that do not fit into the tactical doctrines of another polity.”
“I think we can agree to that,” said Sean, the nervousness subsiding a bit. “So, when can we expect your forces within our space?”
“Our first expeditionary fleet should be within your space in the next six of your standard days,” said the Spokesbeing. “We will assess your needs and ours after it is deployed, and decide what other forces we may be able to send you.”
The talk went on for another twenty minutes, mostly ironing out details. Sean felt ecstatic for the first time in weeks. We aren’t in this alone, he thought as the holo went blank. Now if we could only get the damned Brakakak to move their asses.
*
MASSADARA SPACE, JUNE 20TH, 1001.
Jana Gorbachev cursed all the Gods she could name as she walked back to her chamber. Two tries at getting off the ship, and both times she was interrupted by the damned Great Admiral calling for her before she could get to the cargo hold she had chosen. In a way she had gotten lucky. If he had called for her after she had gotten into the container it could have been a disaster. They would have tracked her down, and she didn’t have a good explanation as to why she would have been hiding in a box.
And then had come the questioning. “Who are these Crakista? What can you tell me about their capabilities?” The Great Admiral of course wouldn’t tell her what was going on, but from the questions she was guessing that the Ca’cadsans had run into the reptilians, and had not enjoyed the meeting. Then she had listened to some officers talking and realized that the Cacas didn’t know if they had run into the Lizards or not.
It would serve them right, she thought, throwing herself on the bed. They had sent a raiding force of Klang, with a few of their own battleships to ride herd, around to a far frontier of the Empire. A route that would have taken them very close to Crakitan space. And then no word. Could they have blundered over into Crakistan space, she thought. The Lizards were very logical in their dealings with other species, but also didn’t take any shit off of anyone.
But does it do us any good if the Crakista had destroyed the raiding fleet and no one knows that they did it. They could deny any involvement, and while it would be nice if they destroyed some of our enemies, it would be better if they were forced into an alliance with the Empire.
She had barely gotten comfortable when she was called back to the presence of the Great Admiral, who was ensconced with his brain trust, if they could be called that. Jana thought of them as the Gorillas, and they seemed about as intelligent as those big primates. The Great Admiral was an order of magnitude more intelligent than they were, and relying on their counsel was actually having a negative effect on his decisions. Which, as far as she was concerned, was a good thing.
“Have your people ever had an alliance with these Reptilians?” asked the Great Admiral once she was in the room.
“Never an alliance,” said Jana, shaking her head. “We have had trade with them for centuries, and a few short wars. But we have never allied ourselves to the Crakista.”
“And what of their Empire? How large is it? How many other species have they enslaved?”
“Their Empire is just a bit smaller than the New Terran Empire,” she answered, feeling that this information really couldn’t hurt her people. Maybe even help, if it made the Cacas more cautious. “As far as I know they have enslaved no one. They have absorbed other species into their Empire, and have integrated them much as we do with alien species.”
The Ca’cadasans in the room stared at her. She had the feeling that they truly couldn’t understand the philosophy of treating other species as equals.
“And how do they fight?” asked the Great Admiral, looming over her, using his bulk to intimidate.
“With a lot of forethought,” said Jana, trying to remember the lessons she had learned in school about the last of the human versus Crakista wars. “They are a logical species, who don’t allow their emotions to rule them. We had a lot of trouble with them. They don’t react, they act.”
“Then we will send another Embassy to these Reptilians,” said the Great Admiral, looking over at another of the males. “If we can bring them in on our side, like these Fenri, we can squeeze the humans from both sides while we thrust ahead.”
Jana sat there staring at the Great Admiral in disbelief. The humans had enough trouble taking on this opponent. If the Cacas got most of humanity’s neighbors on board the war would be over. But everyone can’t be stupid enough to sign on to the Ca’cadasan conquest of this arm. Can they?
“You may leave, human,” said the Great Admiral, motioning toward the door. “But be ready to answer questions when we have them.”
Gorbachev nodded and left the room, walking quickly toward her quarters, wondering how she was going to get out of this nightmare, short of dying. I have to wait until the Great Admiral is off the ship, she thought. She did not know when that would again happen, but she determined that was the time to try her escape, no matter the risk.
Chapter Twenty-one
The only way to fight a war is to strike for the heart, quickly and ruthlessly. Any other manner of warfare is immoral. Emperor Cassius Ogden, Cassius the Wise.
LASHARAN HOME SYSTEM, JULY 3RD THROUGH 5TH, 1001.
Samuel Baggett grimaced as the ship exited hyper I. At least it’s getting better, he thought. He had been through over fifty translations in the last couple of months, six in the last day. The disorientation passed quickly, and the Brigade Commander tapped into the command net as soon as he was sure he wasn’t going to vomit on the deck.
Ahead lay the twin stars in the center of the system, a yellow primary and a white dwarf secondary, while a small caret marked the location of the target planet, the home of the Lasharan race and its murderous church. Vector arrows came up as they were processed by the ship’s tactical computer. There were many red arrows on that plot, showing acceleration figures below them, read by their graviton emissions that were traveling through hyper VIII. Almost four hundred green arrows were moving into the system ahead of the transports and their escorts, the battle force of the fleet. As he watched hundreds more arrows appeared in space, the missiles they were launching at the enemy force. Hundreds became thousands, and the capital ships would continue firing for many minutes, until there were tens of thousands in space.
While not a naval officer, Samuel had a more than layman’s knowledge of space tactics. It behooved a ground pounder to have some knowledge of the forces that might someday kill or save him. And to his eye, the enemy didn’t stand a chance. The foe had at most forty capital ships, maybe another sixty escorts, and several hundred of what could only be called converted tramp freighters.
Against them were arrayed over a hundred much more advanced battleships and battle cruisers, as well as a hundred cruisers and almost two hundred destroyers. The twelve assault ships and six transports were escorted by another six capital ships and thirty escorts, and included four fleet carriers. While he was watching those carriers started to flush their attack fighters, six hundred to a thousand ton ships capable of up to one thousand gravities acceleration. The carriers held over a thousand of those attack fighters between them. Not all would be launched in the initial wave. Half would form the reserve. But it was already obvious that the Lasharan Navy was in for a very bad day.
A number of the enemy icons started to change vector, while others moved in the opposite direction of the human force from a standing start orbiting the habitable planet. Most of these were freighters, though there were also some
fast couriers, or at least what passed for them in the Lasharan fleet. It was a hopeless flight, ships with at most three hundred gees accel trying to outrun missiles capable of five thousand. That flight became even more hopeless as human ships started to translate into normal space around the sphere of the system, putting them in position to cut off anything that had the luck to get away from the missiles.
A com signal came over the link, letting Baggett know that the commander of the corps was wanting to talk to her subordinate commanders. It took a second to link, and the Brigadier noted that the command ship was four light seconds away. Which, using the new subspace com systems, put them as near real time as possible.
“Everyone on the line?” asked Lt. General Sam (Samantha) Tomaz. The acknowledgements came back quickly. Everyone had learned early on that this general was not one to play with. “We’re two days from the planet, and will be coming in four hours behind the bombardment force. If everything works as planned, all orbital defenses and most of the planetary batteries should be taken out.”
And it will be a fine day in hell when that happens, thought Baggett, who, though the youngest general officer in the corps, had the most recent combat experience. We can expect some screw ups, even though the Fleet will try its best to get us to orbit safely. Then it’s up to us.
“You all are familiar with your landing sites, at least the theoretical ones. Drill your troops on the simulators unmercifully. I’m sure they’ll groan, but better to complain now than to be converted to plasma later. Any questions?”
“I have one, ma’am,” said Baggett, knowing that some of his fellow officers would be the ones groaning now. “What do we do about all the civilians that are sure to get in our way?”
“If they get in the way try to chase them off. But don’t put your command at risk to try to save civilians.”
“And if those civilians attack us?” asked a Brigadier in one of the other divisions.
“Then kill the hell out of them. And I mean kill them. No mercy. If a civilian bears weapons against us then he is a combatant.”
“There will be plenty of so called civilians attacking us,” said Baggett. “Especially on their religious home world.”
“Was that your experience on Janaikasa, Baggett?” asked Major General Maxwell, the commander of the 384th Heavy Infantry Division.
“Yes, sir,” said Baggett, the images flashing before his eyes of having to fight the fanatical Lasharans on that occupied world. His heavy troopers would be much better protected against the lightly armed urban guerillas than were his light infantry on that world. But. “They will keep coming until they either push us off their planet, or they have no one left to throw at us.”
“I don’t like the idea of genocide,” said one of the Phlistaran brigadiers. “I like even less letting these people continue to hit our civilian populations whenever they feel like it.”
“We will try to restrain our troops,” said General Tomaz. “We’re not going to try and hold the entire surface, and what we do for not more than two days. So I doubt we’re going to have more than a small percentage of the population under our sights.”
But they’ll try to get as many there as they can, thought Baggett, again feeling his stomach flip flop as he thought about fighting the fanatics in the city. He could hear the rumble of buildings falling, and smell the coppery odor of Lasharan blood. He knew this mission was necessary, which didn’t mean he had to like it.
“Read your detailed orders,” said the Corps Commander. “I will send any changes across from this level as soon as they are vetted. And we will hold another meeting at six hours out. I trust you ladies and gentlemen to be ready for anything, and fight the battle to the best of your abilities. Tomaz out.”
The link went blank, and Maxwell came on another band for a division meeting, bringing in the battalion and assistant brigade commanders. They spent another couple of hours talking over details and concerns. Enough time for the first missiles to reach their targets, ships furthest out in the system. The first icons were dropping off the plot as they stopped producing gravitons. Baggett would wait until he saw the first visuals to be sure that those ships were actually being destroyed. Not that he didn’t trust the Fleet. It was just that he was more comfortable being able to assess combat that wasn’t occurring over twenty or more light minutes away.
*
“They must not be allowed to approach the homeworld,” yelled the Ahmadhi-ghasta Mallakan. “The Gods demand that no alien infidels shall be permitted on the surface of their holy world.”
“Then the Gods need to give me more ships,” said Grand Admiral Lissana Mallakan, the Grand High Bishop’s cousin, and commander of the Lasharan military, his twin macro eyes focused on the supreme leader of the church while his quad motion eyes glanced around the control room where he made his headquarters.
The Ahmadhi-ghasta could see that room through the holo link, swarming with males and neuters in a near panic as they faced an invasion they had never thought possible. “That is blasphemy,” yelled the cleric. “That you would doubt the Gods.”
“I do not doubt the Gods,” said the officer. “What I doubt is their commitment to our cause. I have a fleet heading down my throat at this moment,” he motioned with a seven digit hand toward a tactical plot. The light glinted from his red leathery skin as he pointed with a long, quad jointed finger back at the screen. “There is no way in which we can stop them from reaching the planet.”
“Then the orbital fortresses…”
“Will be destroyed as soon as the humans decide to fire upon them,” said the Admiral with a sneer. “And I have approved your proposal that we send suicide attacks at them. Not that it will do any good. Those ships will die like night flyers in the flame.”
“What about reinforcements from other systems?”
“We have to get ships out of this system to get a message to anyone,” said the Admiral, and the holo was replaced with a tactical plot of the globe of the hyperspace barrier around the star. Blinking icons were arrayed equidistant around that globe, except for the spot where the assault force was coming in. “There is no way we will get ships past that cordon, and anything incoming will be scooped up.”
“So you’re giving up?” asked the incredulous leader.
“Not at all,” said the Admiral, blinking his annoyance with the question. “We will fight to the last male, female and neuter. And still they will come, and land the troops from those assault ships they brought.”
The Grand High Bishop cut the connection, then ordered a planet wide broadcast to go out. It is against the will of the Gods for aliens to stand upon our holy soil. We must stop them, if it takes the lives of every Lasharan on this world. And then our people will avenge us. Of that I am sure.
*
CAPITULUM, JEWEL, JULY 5TH, 1001.
Jennifer had a smile on her face as she walked into the hospital. The weekend had been as wonderful as promised. At least as wonderful as can be when followed around by scores of security personnel. Not that she was an expert at it, but the skiing on the Imperial Trail had been as good as any she had ever seen. No waiting at any of the venues. And there had been nights around a blazing fire in the lodge, with all security banished to the outside. She could still taste the steaks and lobster, the last imported alive from a terraformed world. She could still taste Sean’s lips on hers, and the smell the musk on his skin. She could feel the blush of her own skin as she remembered their lovemaking.
The bulk of her own security detail peeled off and headed for the room that had been assigned them, while the two agents who were to accompany her, dressed in hospital staff garb, followed her to the lift and her first set of rounds. Agents Stacy Donovan and Michio Nagato had been her close escorts on many a day, and they knew the drill. They moved with her through the rooms, giving the appearance that they were medical personnel, watching the instruments above the bed.
“Where’s Ms. Kowalski?” asked Jennifer as she walked into one
room. She called up the chart in her link and saw that the elderly woman should still be in this room. Not the young woman who was lying unconscious on the bed, covered in hard casts. She shouldn’t be on this floor, thought the doctor, glancing up at the monitor that indicated this was a healthy woman of about fifty. She was about to say something to Agent Donovan when the woman opened her eyes and lifted her right arm from the bed.
A small spot on the plastic of the cast erupted out and the same moment a matching dot appeared on agent Donovan’s forehead. The agent folded up without a sound and headed to the floor. Agent Nagato started to move, his hand reaching for his gun in a blur. As fast as he was it was still too late, and the left arm cast put a round into his face. Maybe not an instant kill, but enough to put him down and out.
Jennifer started to open her mouth in a scream, and at the same time alarms started going off through the floor. She never got the air back out of her lungs. The cast tracked on her and fired again. She felt something hit her neck and wondered in false calm if she was going to die. Her vision blurred just a bit and she felt a calm and relaxed feeling stealing over her. Jennifer didn’t have to be a physician to know she had been drugged. She wasn’t sure in her advancing stupor if that was a good or bad thing. Death might be better.
The woman jumped out of bed and grabbed her by the arm, hurrying her toward the door. The hall was a war zone, smoke and vapor in the air, the smell of wood and flesh choking her. Angry bee buzzes sounded up the hall, and she looked on in induced detachment at the partially vaporized bodies on the floor. A red beam went out, then another, while pellets cracked at supersonic speed past Jennifer and her captor.
“Stop shooting,” called out a loud voice. “You’ll hit the Consort.”
In an instant return fire stopped, though the particle beams continued to wreak havoc on the far end of the hall, sending flares of plasma into the air as they converted solid objects to gas. The woman with the casts hustled her toward a lift, while two men in light combat armor fell in behind her and kept up their fire. A man and a woman waited in the lift, and as soon as everyone was aboard they hit an override box they had attached to the controls and started the car on its way down.
Exodus - Empires at War 04 - The Long Fall (Exodus Series #4) Page 34
