“Once is an accident. Twice is coincidence. Three times is enemy action?” Steve asked.
“Exactly. I know of over 50 incidents regarding mercenary firms in the last two years. It isn’t accident or coincidence.”
“So, someone wants us out of the business?” Rath asked.
“More likely it is ‘someones’ rather than just one,” Good replied. “No one race could pull all this off. There may be one individual orchestrating it, but I suspect there are a number of races involved.” He paused, then added. “But that’s just one aspect of it. Some of my best people think a full-on assault of Earth is also a possibility.”
“But you don’t believe it?”
“It’s a definite possibility, so I wanted to share the information with the rest of the Horsemen and the other mercenary companies. If there is an invasion, we need to be ready. Personally, I’d love to have the Hussars in-system; we’ll need their spaceships to have any chance of holding them off.”
“Who are they?”
“I don’t know, but I expect that if someone comes, looking to take us down, they’re going to come with enough force to do the job. Our only chance will be if they count on catching us unaware and only bring enough for that scenario…if enough civilizations send their troops and ships, though, we’ll be screwed; there’s no way we can hold off the entire galaxy.” Good tried to meet Rath’s eyes, but they were jumping all around, as if looking for aliens under every table. He reached over and put a hand on Rath’s arm. Rath’s eyes jumped to his, and Good smiled. “Hey,” he said. “It’s okay; don’t get freaked out.”
“Okay?” Rath exclaimed, too loud, drawing the attention of the patrons at the neighboring tables. He twitched as he realized what he’d done, and he looked around at the other tables until their occupants looked away. He lowered his voice and continued, “How is it going to be okay if we get invaded? I’m no merc—I’m just a caretaker for Asbaran until Nigel Shirazi gets back. What the heck am I supposed to, but get freaked out?”
“You’re going to need to prepare,” Good replied. “You’re going to—”
“Prepare?” Rath asked, holding his voice down a little better this time. “How do you prepare for invasion?”
“Build your forces. Spend every dime you can get your hands on building ships and equipment for war, because war is coming…in one form or another. Get your troops as prepared as you can—use anyone Colonel Shirazi left behind to assist you. If you need more help, talk to Jim Cartwright with the Cavaliers when he gets back. He’s at least local to you, rather than trying to reach me in Tashkent. Besides, you never know who’s listening, and what may be bugged.”
“Our phones are bugged, too? How am I supposed to do anything secret? The enemy’ll know what I’m doing the moment I do it.”
Good smiled. “Happily, that’s something I can help you with. I spoke with Colonel Enkh before she left, and she authorized me to send you a couple of technicians to help keep your communications systems clean.”
“With all of this going on, she left? What, is the Horde running away?”
Good slammed his fist on the table, overturning his water glass. “The Horde does not run!” he hissed, his voice barely audible. Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see people staring from the neighboring tables again. The other patrons unconsciously leaned away from the table of crazy people, their eyes scanning for a place to run when whatever was unfolding at the table next to them finally happened. “Colonel Enkh took a contract,” he continued, standing his empty glass back up, “and she is leading the mission. She’s hoping to lure out our adversaries into an environment where she can handle them. If she can find out who’d behind this, we stand a better chance of being ready for it when it happens. She thinks there’s still time before anything goes down.”
Rath took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Okay, so I have time. Make money, recruit and train people, buy stuff.” He shook his head. “I only know how to do one of those, but if I have time, I can find someone else to do the others.”
“Anything else?” Good asked.
“Yeah, one last question. I’ve heard the mercs talk about desired end state. What kind of desired end state am I trying to achieve?”
“Are you sure you want to know?” Good asked, one eyebrow raised. Rath nodded. “You need to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”
“Leave Houston?” Rath asked.
“No,” Good replied. His stare bored holes into Rath’s soul as he added, “You need to be ready to leave Earth.”
* * * * *
Chapter 12
Horde Transport Ship War Pony, Hyperspace, Approaching the Trigar System
“Ten minutes to transition,” the navigator noted.
“Weapons manned and ready!”
“All dropships report ready to launch except Dropship 1.”
The captain of the transport turned to look back at Sansar Enkh where she continued to pace at the back of the bridge. “All systems manned and ready, ma’am, except for your dropship,” he reported. “I’ve got this. If you wouldn’t mind, now would be a good time to get to your dropship, in case they need to launch immediately after we make transition.”
Sansar sighed. “I know you’ve got it, Captain Cole. It’s just—”
“Yes, ma’am, I know. We’ll drop you and make for the gate. We won’t turn back regardless of the situation. We’ll be back to get you at the end of the contract. Yes, yes, yes.” The captain straddled a fine line; although an employee of Sansar, he was responsible for the ship and the safety of everyone aboard. Even his boss. “Now, I really must insist you go to your battle station, ma’am. You’re on a tight schedule—the base needs to be set up before the customers arrive, so time is precious.”
“You’re right, as always, Captain.”
It looked like she intended to say something else, so the captain made a shooing motion at her. With another sigh, she turned and left.
Cargo Bay, Dropship 4, Approaching Trigar 2-A, Trigar System
“Two minutes ‘til touchdown!” the dropship pilot advised, shouting over the roar of the engines and the rush of atmosphere past the hull.
“Walker copies. Any sign of enemy fire or activity?”
“Naw,” the pilot replied. “The place is dead. I’m not even showing any signs of life.” Ten seconds later he added, “Ramp’s coming down.”
An unopposed drop? Walker hadn’t had one of those in a long time. Although it was appreciated, it was so outside the norm as to make him uneasy. What was he missing? What were all of them missing? He smiled as he worked it through—the questions making his palms sweaty were ones you only asked when you had time to worry about things like that. Part of his discomfort was due to the lack of incoming fire. You never thought about those things when people were actively trying to kill you.
He might enjoy working for the Horde after all; he could certainly get used to this lifestyle.
The dropship touched down, and Staff Sergeant Walker stepped off the end of the ramp. “Move it, Fourth Squad!” he ordered. “What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?”
He surveyed his home for the next six months as the troops came pouring out to establish a perimeter, and several words came to mind. Of the ones he could say in polite company, ‘barren’ and ‘bleak’ were at the top of the list…but only if they had several colorful adjectives attached. There didn’t seem to be any trees; only a small shrub-like proto-plant broke up the landscape. To the south was a bit of sand and then the open ocean; everywhere else was hard-packed ground, bleached a bone white.
The squad advanced to the northwest, expanding their perimeter as they had practiced. A trooper pushed past Walker, obviously more intent on his job than he was worried about any potential danger—and he wasn’t even wearing a suit!
The trooper carried a large duffel bag. Based on how he lugged it, it was full of heavy gear. He set it down carefully behind VVR. Pulling out a large tripod, he set it up,
mounted a laser to it, and began taking readings. Walker didn’t need to see the insignia to know what kind of idiot walked around the battlefield unsuited; only an engineer would be so focused on doing his job that he’d lose situational awareness like that. Walker had heard they liked to be at the forefront of the assault, but damn! The guy had to have testicles like basketballs to be running around under foot without wearing a suit. Just getting stepped on by one of the CASPers would probably take off his foot.
After 15 seconds, the trooper stepped forward and slapped VVR’s CASPer on the leg. “Move, damn it!” he yelled. “You’re in the way!”
VVR took three steps forward, and the engineer moved into the space he had vacated. After another 15 seconds, the engineer looked up, spotted Walker’s suit, and gave him the thumbs-up before pulling out two metal rods and driving them into the ground. The engineer flipped a switch on one, and an infrared strobe activated, marking its position and status. The engineer gave him another thumbs-up and scurried off on his next task.
“All right, Fourth Squad,” Walker transmitted, “we’ve got our marker. Let’s start unloading our shit. Kiwi, you and I have the first overwatch; everyone else, stack weapons and get to it!”
“Let’s go!” Walker added, when the troops were slow to pull back from the perimeter. “You don’t have working hours, you have responsibilities; the faster we get them done, the sooner we’ll get some shut-eye! Right now, our responsibilities are to build this fucking wall, so let’s get it done!”
“Why do we need a wall, Staff Sergeant?” Corporal Burke asked. “There aren’t any enemies around, and this damn island’s tiny.”
“Why do we need a wall?” Walker asked. “Because the colonel said so! I’ll tell you, though, a wall is a lovely thing. It lets you kill aliens while they’re still far enough away that you can appreciate the splatter patterns their blood makes when you shoot them, without it getting on your CASPer. Some damn aliens have some nasty shit running through their veins, and you do not want it on your suit. I even heard tell of an alien race with concentrated hydrochloric acid for blood. Don’t know if I believe it, but that’s the rumor, and I don’t want any of that shit on me!”
Walker had never been part of a combat “take and hold” deployment this big before. The idea was to get in and get a defensible position established before the enemy knew you were there and had time to react. The MinSha on Trigar 2-B had to know the Horde had arrived; if they decided they wanted to try to interdict the Horde’s deployment, time was running out to get things set up before they arrived.
Part of the process involved unloading and assembling the pre-fabricated fortress walls that would enclose their base of operations on the planet. Speed and accuracy were imperative, and having weapons poking off the suit that could catch on the pieces of the growing structure was an unnecessary risk. Additionally, both the weapons and some of the building components were high-value, and banging them together wouldn’t have been good for either; the CASPer troopers un-mounted their primary weapons and placed them in a pile off to the side—far enough to not be in the way, but close enough for easy access if needed.
Although company policy stated this was the procedure to be followed, being weaponless in a potential combat zone seriously creeped Walker out, so he gave himself the first overwatch. This duty also gave Walker a chance to watch the fortress take shape. After initially marking the corners, the engineers marked the assembly areas, and the gear on the follow-on dropships was unloaded into the exact areas where it was needed. No time or effort was wasted; the squad unloaded the dropship until it was empty and worked on building the western wall of the base until the dropship returned with the next load of materials.
The level of precision was incredible, having been worked out in a number of exercises and drills. Within five minutes of touchdown, the first pieces of wall were in place. The engineers verified the placement of the individual blocks, then they fired the charges that drove the footings into place. After that, it was only a matter of assembling a giant erector set; each piece mounted and attached to the one before it.
After 30 minutes, the squad had developed a routine, and Walker knew it was time for him to be seen helping, not just standing around supervising.
“Loftis, you and Morgan have second overwatch. Arm up, then Kiwi and I will take your places. Why don’t you two go patrol out about half a mile and make sure there’s nothing trying to sneak up on us? The dropship pilot didn’t see any life forms on our approach, but I’m not one to put a lot of faith in machinery operated by flyboys.”
“You got it, Staff Sergeant!” Loftis replied.
Main Base, Trigar 2-A, Trigar System
Sansar assessed the battalion’s progress. Satisfactory, as expected. Alpha Company was making great progress on the fortress walls. Second Squad was closest to finished with their wall, with First and Fourth Squads close behind. Third Squad was lagging slightly. They didn’t have their wall walk up yet. If there was an attack, hopefully it wouldn’t come from the sea, or they would have issues defending it. Bravo Company was making good progress as well; the engineers had sited the anti-air defense positions, and troops in CASPers were building platforms, leveling the ground, and in some cases, digging holes to protect the weapon systems.
She sighed. Sansar hated this part of a deployment. The small unit commanders knew their jobs and took care of them—which left nothing for her to do but stand around.
“Is it working yet?” Sansar asked the technician setting up the telescope. “Any problems?”
“Yes, it is up and running, Colonel Enkh,” the technician said; “however, I think we do have a problem.”
“What do you mean?” Sansar asked. “Did the equipment get damaged during shipment?”
“No ma’am,” the technician replied. “The picture is surprisingly good. I can see the empty runway at the MinSha base on Trigar 2-B very well.”
“What about the fighters? Are they on the pad somewhere nearby?”
“No ma’am, that’s what I’m saying; I don’t see any fighters up there at all. Unless they drug them under the covered area, the fighters are airborne…or space-borne…or whatever you call it.”
“Damn it,” she swore as she switched to her radio. “Lieutenant Porter, how long until the primary radar is up?”
“Coming up now, ma’am,” Second Lieutenant Porter replied. “We had some problems getting it sited correctly.”
Sansar turned to look at the long-range multifunction radar system across the compound from her. The vehicle’s radar mast was elevating from its travel positon. “Hurry!” she urged. “We’ve got incoming!”
“Yes, ma’am. We—”
Sansar felt the shockwave from the supersonic cruise missile a fraction of a second before the radar vehicle’s cataclysmic explosion. The radar mast was blasted free, and it cartwheeled through the air as the rest of the vehicle flew apart in a hail storm of pieces. Additional detonations rocked the camp as more missiles than she could count streaked in. Her backup radar vehicle was similarly destroyed, as were most of their other vehicles.
Flashes of light lanced in as the fighters approached. Compared to the missiles, the level of destruction was far less—not that there was much left to destroy—a few more troopers were lost to unluckily-placed laser bolts.
The fighters screamed overhead, low enough for Sansar to feel the hot breeze of their rocket wash. The shockwave of their supersonic passage roared across the camp, shattering any unprotected glass. Their mission complete, the fighters pulled into a high-g climb, straight up toward the twin planet high overhead. The fighters opened up the rocket motors full throttle, and the blazing pillars of fire were like beacons as they raced for the safety of space.
A forest of missiles chased after them, as the missile-armed CASPers could now see the fighters silhouetted on the cloudless sky, and 60 missiles roared off in pursuit. The fighters launched all of their countermeasures but there were too many missiles and their r
ocket motors were targets too good to miss. Three of the fighters were hit and came apart under the g-forces being applied to them. The pieces that fell back to the surface of the planet were tiny.
Sansar glared at the smoke trails of the three that got away. She knew they’d be back…and she swore they wouldn’t get away again.
* * * * *
Chapter 13
Beach, Trigar 2-A, Trigar System
“So, Staff Sergeant, what did we do to deserve this good deal?” Sergeant Morgan asked.
The battalion had worked through the night shoring up the defenses and rebuilding what had been destroyed in the attack, catching brief naps by platoon. Having Trigar 2-B illuminate the landscape for a large portion of the 23-hour night helped, and by morning the battalion was ready to send out its first patrol to survey the rest of the island.
Fourth Squad had drawn the unenviable position of conducting it.
The squad had patrolled along the beach in their CASPers, and had covered almost half the island. One of the other squads was going to cross the interior later in the day. They hadn’t seen any life form aside from the small proto-plants. Walker was ready to add a few more adjectives to his description of “bleak.”
“We were the last ones to get a nap, so we’re the best rested,” Walker replied.
“Although ‘best-rested’ is a bit subjective,” Kiwi said. “If you wanted to stop here a few minutes, I’m sure I could fall asleep—”
“Hey, what the hell is that thing?” Private Mark DeWayne interrupted.
Walker turned. The trooper pointed at something barely visible several hundred feet offshore. Walker enabled his targeting scope, enhanced it to full zoom and activated the range finder. A several-inch-thick tree branch poked about two feet out of the water 273 feet offshore.
The Golden Horde (The Revelations Cycle Book 4) Page 16
