Galactic Empire Wars: Destruction (The Galactic Empire Wars)

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Galactic Empire Wars: Destruction (The Galactic Empire Wars) Page 13

by Raymond L. Weil


  Mark turned around to Lieutenant Griffith. “I want the guards at the mess halls doubled for the next few days. We can’t have more problems like this one.”

  “I will pass on the order,” Griffith replied.

  They continued on their tour of the camp. There were a large number of RVs mixed in with the tents, and electrical lines had been run by the army engineers to furnish power. Those staying in tents spent a lot of their time in the large mess tents trying to stay warm, though the army had gone from tent to tent passing out blankets and sleeping bags to those in need. Even so, sleeping out on the ground in these temperatures was brutal. Every day more people showed up sick at the medical tents.

  Mark and his team finished their tour in a little over two hours and then returned to their command bunker. It had been greatly expanded and now contained a dozen bunks as well as a few other comfort features, including heat and a working restroom with a hot shower. At night, the temperature outside was dropping to nearly twenty degrees, and Mark knew as the weeks went by the temperature would continue to get colder. Several of the climatologists were predicting that snow would eventually start falling and perhaps bury the area to a depth of six to ten feet. Mark hoped they were wrong.

  “Rough night,” Lieutenant Griffith commented as he prepared to take a jeep into the spaceport to the small complex of buildings where his family was staying.

  “They’re only going to get worse,” replied Mark, sitting down on his bunk and looking over at the lieutenant. “As it gets colder and the food becomes scarcer, the people are only going to become further frightened.”

  “I heard a rumor that they’re thinking about rationing,” commented Griffith, arching his eyebrows. “If they do that it will really panic the civilians.”

  “It’s probably going to happen,” Mark admitted with a heavy sigh. “I just hope we can get most of these people up to Luna City and Vesta or they’re going to die down here.”

  “I hope so too,” Griffith replied as he turned to leave. “See you in the morning.”

  Mark watched Lieutenant Griffith leave. In a way, he felt jealous that Griffith had a family to go home to, whereas he had no one.

  -

  Mason watched as the latest load of refugees were unloaded from one of the converted cargo ships. Four hundred more people to add to Vesta’s rapidly growing population.

  “How soon before the remaining cargo ships are converted?” asked Mason, knowing they needed to speed up the evacuation of survivors from Earth or they were going to lose them due to the steadily worsening conditions on the planet. The original plan had been to convert ten of the cargo ships to haul people between Holbrook Station and Vesta.

  “Two more weeks and we will be done,” Ethan Hall replied. “We’re working on the last four now.”

  “We’re not going to be able to move people fast enough,” Mason said at last. “Even with all ten ships we can move less than three hundred thousand people in a year.”

  “It’s going to take us a while to finish the new habitat,” Keith Davis reminded Mason. “Three hundred thousand a year is all we’re probably going to be able to handle, and even that is going to stress our environmental systems.”

  “What about the tunnels?” Mason asked. He knew they were putting a lot of work and resources into building the small apartment buildings in the new tunnel complex to house survivors until the larger habitat was ready.

  “They’re coming along,” Keith replied. “The first ones will be ready in another two weeks.”

  Mason’s eyes wandered over to the Phoenix. Even from here, he could see workers, including some military personnel, working on the ship installing the new railguns and missile tubes.

  “Two more months before the Phoenix is done,” reported Ethan, seeing where Mason’s eyes had wandered. “We have to modify the inside as well as change the power setup. We’re installing a small nuclear power plant the military sent up to help provide the power we’re going to need for the railguns. Do you have any idea as to who is going to command her?”

  Mason was silent. Originally, he had planned to command the ship on its maiden journey of exploration, but he wasn’t a military man. “Captain Sanders has some military experience in his background,” Mason finally replied. “I think he would do a good job. I have requested several naval and air force officers from the military to fill in some of the other spots.”

  Ethan nodded and then noticed Mason’s eyes return to the cargo ship from which the refugees were still disembarking. He had a feeling Mason wasn’t finished with him yet.

  “We need a fleet,” Mason finally said as he mulled over what he had been thinking about for the last few days. “If the aliens return, I don’t want all of our eggs in one basket. When the Phoenix is done, I want to convert four of our cargo ships into support vessels. I will get with General Wainright and see what other weapons he can dig up. Once the support vessels are finished, I want to take ten of our prospector ships and arm them also.”

  Ethan let out a long whistle and gazed at Mason as if he were insane. “That’s going to take a lot of resources,” he said at last. “I don’t know if we can do it.”

  “If we need anything, we will take it from Earth,” replied Mason, evenly. “Put together a list of items we may not have available or can’t produce. We will make them a top priority in our salvage efforts.”

  Mason didn’t go on to tell Ethan that once all the ships were converted they would start construction on a new ship. It would be the first ship ever built in the solar system designed and built only for war!

  Later, Mason was back in the Control Center checking the latest reports from Holbrook Station and Luna City. Already Mayor Silas had added four more small domes to put people in. He had also started a massive project to grow more food. Silas had already taken in eight thousand refugees and was working feverishly on more domes.

  “The weather is getting worse,” Pamela reported as she saw Mason step inside the Control Center. “Several of the climatologists on the International Space Station feel another ice age will begin shortly if it hasn’t already.”

  “We need a plan,” Mason said as he sat down and gazed at the main viewscreen showing a cloud-shrouded Earth. The clouds were a dark, sickly color. “At this rate we’re never going to get everyone evacuated in time.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” Pamela spoke as she came over and sat down at the command console next to Mason. “Paul and I were talking last night and he made a suggestion which I think we need to consider.”

  “What’s that?” Mason asked. He knew that Paul was Pamela’s husband and worked as an engineer.

  “Why rush to move all of these people off the Earth?” Pamela asked, her eyes meeting Masons. “Why can’t we build more permanent shelters that would allow people to survive on the surface until we’re ready for them at Luna City or here at Vesta?”

  “We don’t know what type of conditions they may be facing in the long term,” Mason responded with a frown. “Particularly if we’re talking about a new ice age. Whatever we build might not be protection enough.”

  “It will take years for a new ice age to establish itself,” Pamela replied, growing more confident in what she was suggesting. “There are four large wind generating plants around White Sands and Jornada. There is plenty of power for years as long as the wind generators are kept in good repair. They are also sealed units and should be good for forty years at a minimum.”

  Mason leaned back as he thought about Pamela’s suggestion. “That still doesn’t solve the food problem.”

  “We can grow the food,” Pamela responded. “Paul says we will have enough space in the new habitat as well as in Smithfield to grow enough fruits and vegetables to feed several million extra people. There won’t be any meat for them, but people can survive on a vegetarian diet.”

  “Mars Central and Luna City can grow food too, if necessary,” Mason said as he thought over Pamela’s suggestion. “You may have a good idea; I�
�ll talk it over with Lawrence and General Wainright tomorrow. We may not have any other choice but to do as you have suggested.”

  Pamela nodded; she would still like to know if her sister was alive. Carmen lived in Denver, and the last she had heard the city was suffering a major ash fall and the electricity was out. No word had come out of there for several weeks. Daily Pamela listened to the calls for help from Earth, hoping one would come from Denver. Every day those calls became fewer and fewer and Denver remained silent.

  Her eyes returned to the viewscreen and the cloud-shrouded Earth. Her ten-year-old son had asked the previous night when his aunt Carmen could come for a visit. Pamela had replied that she didn’t know. After Mike had gone to bed, she had cried herself to sleep in her husband’s arms. Carmen and she had always been extremely close, and she missed her younger sister. She just hoped that someday she would know Carmen’s fate.

  Chapter Eight

  It was their fourth week of intense training and Lieutenant Nelson was leading two of his twenty-five member marine platoons up the side of the mountain. Corporal Stern and Corporal Perry were acting as defacto platoon leaders, responding to and implementing Wade’s commands. If they continued to perform as they had the last few weeks, Wade fully intended to promote them to sergeants.

  “Sweep the slope above and to the right of the trees with rifle fire,” Wade ordered as he gazed up ahead. The mountain slope concealed numerous hidden automatic weapons that would fire upon detecting movement.

  Wade was standing behind a small boulder, and stepping around it, he laid down a withering fire from his rifle at the indicated area. The rifle was a smaller version of a railgun and fired both regular and explosive rounds at tremendous speeds. Due to the velocity, the railgun rounds were smaller but still carried a deadly punch upon reaching their target. The explosive rounds were like grenades going off, and the rifle could be switched to fire either of the two. Wade knew that, without the battle suit, the recoil from the rifle would probably knock him down. With the battle suit, he barely noticed it.

  The entire area Wade had indicated came under heavy fire, and he saw with satisfaction four embedded weapons emplacements explode as the rifle fire swept them away. “Hold fire,” Wade ordered as he used the optics in his suit to scan the slope ahead in more detail. After a moment, he nodded to himself satisfied that they had eliminated the weapons in their immediate vicinity. “Advance in staggered formation to the tree line and take up covering positions there.”

  Wade stepped out and quickly sprinted ahead, reaching his planned position in only a matter of seconds. The ten-foot tall battle suits allowed him to run twice a fast as he normally could have. He heard a man scream over the suit’s com and saw one of the green icons on his HUD suddenly turn amber.

  “Report!” he ordered as he bent down to take cover behind a large stump that would serve to partially conceal him. He knew they must have missed a hidden weapon emplacement.

  “Private Richards took a hit to his left arm from an energy beam,” Corporal Perry replied. “His suit has injected him with pain killers, but his arm is badly burned and his suit has a hole in it the size of a quarter.”

  “Damn,” Wade muttered as he scanned the upper slope of the mountain. They were facing live weapons in this war game and any mistake could result in an injury.

  They were only a fourth of the way to the top. He knew the hidden weapon emplacements were programmed to only wound, but training accidents did happen and Lieutenant Williams had lost two marines in one of her platoons several days back when they had crossed into the path of an energy weapon just as it fired at another marine. Both had been struck in the chest and died instantly.

  “Did anyone spot where that energy weapon fired from?” he asked as he continued to use his optics at high power to scrutinize the slope above them.

  “Yes, Sir,” a female marine responded. “Just to the right of that large burned out tree and up the slope about twenty meters.”

  “Corporal Stern, hit that area with explosive rounds.”

  Almost instantly, grenade like explosions began rolling across the indicated area of the slope, churning up the soil and ending with a violent explosion as the hidden energy weapon emplacement was destroyed.

  “Got it!” reported Corporal Stern, jubilantly.

  “Private Russell and Private Dawson, scout ahead but be cautious,” Wade ordered.

  He watched as the two ran, using the trees for cover until they arrived at a position forty meters further up the slope. “Report.”

  “We’re scanning, Sir,” Dawson replied. “No sign of hidden emplacements, but they may be inactive until they detect movement. That last one didn’t show up on the scans.”

  “Keep an eye out as the rest of us move up,” Wade ordered as he eyed the tree-covered slope ahead. “If you detect any movement, destroy it!”

  “Everyone up the slope,” Wade commanded as his marines stood up and advanced in a long staggered line, weapons held at the ready. He knew that to an enemy the sight of the nearly black battle suits coming toward them would be a frightening spectacle.

  Suddenly, up ahead, Private Dawson rose up and fired explosive rounds from his rifle into a small grove of trees, causing a series of explosions to hurl rocks down upon them from the slope above.

  “What is it?” Corporal Stern yelled as she gestured for her advancing squads to take immediate cover.

  “Two energy beam emplacements popped up,” replied Dawson, breathing heavily. “But I got both of them. I don’t see anything else.”

  Corporal Stern and Corporal Perry resumed the advance, and soon the line of battle suits were even with Privates Dawson and Russell. Everyone stopped and spent a few minutes examining the slope ahead. The battle suits had a number of optic and sensor systems that allowed the wearer to detect even the movement of a cockroach if the marine so desired. Everyone was quickly becoming familiar with the advanced capabilities the suits furnished them.

  “Slope ahead seems clear,” Corporal Stern reported. “No visible movement.”

  “Keep a close watch,” Wade ordered. “There are bound to be more of those damn pop up weapons hidden on this mountain. Marken wouldn’t have made it this easy.”

  They continued their slow and methodical advance up the small mountain, taking advantage of cover whenever possible. Over the next two hours, two more marines suffered injuries from hidden weapons, but at last they reached the top. Upon reaching the summit, Wade strolled over and pressed down firmly on the large green button that rested on a metal pedestal. Upon pressing the button, all other embedded weapons that still remained on the mountain were disabled.

  “Well done, Lieutenant,” Marken’s pleased voice came over the com channel. “You made it in record time today. The exercise is over, so you may descend the mountain and bring your wounded to the infirmary.”

  Wade sighed. He knew that tomorrow it would be the same thing for William’s platoons. During the night, new automatic weapons would be hidden upon the mountain for the next drill. They were never put in the same place twice.

  -

  Once they were off the mountain, Lieutenant Nelson had his people jog back to the barracks. He then went to the infirmary with his three injured marines. One thing about the battle suits, they allowed even a severely injured soldier to keep on fighting. All three injured had made it to the top of the mountain and then jogged back to the base. The suit was a miracle of engineering. It would inject drugs and could stop bleeding to allow the marine in the battle suit to continue to function.

  Reaching the infirmary, the three marines exited their battle suits and two of them immediately collapsed to the ground as the suits were no longer protecting them from their injuries. Several orderlies rushed up and took the three inside. Wade quickly opened up his own battle suit and after stepping out, followed them into the infirmary.

  Inside were several Human doctors, a few nurses, as well as four members of the Kivean race. One of them Wade recognized
as Harnett. She seemed to have taken a keen interest in the Humans and made sure that the injured received the best treatment possible.

  “What do we have?” she demanded as she went from bed to bed checking on the injured marines. She saw there were two men and one woman.

  “Two energy beam wounds, one to the leg and one to the arm,” one of the Human doctors replied as he administered a sedative to one of the marines. “The woman has a projectile wound in her shoulder.”

  Harnett instantly went to the woman as her injury seemed to be the most serious. She quickly used an advanced medical device to scan the wound.

  “Damn this hurts,” the woman complained as she winced when Harnett touched the edge of the wound, probing it with her long, supple fingers.

  Harnett motioned and one of the Human nurses came over and injected the marine with a painkiller.

  “That should ease the pain,” spoke Harnett, hating these war games that resulted in these types of wounds. She had complained to Marken about the injuries, but he had only shook his head and answered that they were necessary.

  “Will I have a scar?” the woman asked as the pain began to lessen.

  “No,” replied Harnett, patting the woman’s hand reassuringly. “I will make sure there is no scarring.”

  Harnett finished her examination seeing that the bullet had gone all the way through, damaging both bone and muscle tissue before exiting out the back of the woman’s shoulder. Shaking her head, she walked over to a sealed cabinet and after entering a special code, took out a small vial filled with a gray, watery substance. Placing the vial in a small receptacle on top of her medical computer, she began tapping on the control screen.

  She spent a few moments entering information and then, once she was satisfied, removed the vial and placed it on an injector. She then injected the woman’s shoulder with the nanites that she had programmed to repair the injury. They would help to regenerate the skin, bone, and muscle tissue and close the wound. When the nanites were done there wouldn’t even be any scar tissue. When the reconstruction was complete, the nanites would shut down and die, dissolving in the bloodstream.

 

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