by Danny Loomis
* * *
“The only place we don’t have sniper support is up by Cork,” Two Eagles said, shaking his head. “I think we’re overloading the numbers around Galway and the 41st Division. Twenty teams makes ‘em practically shoulder to shoulder. I’d recommend moving at least six teams up to the Cork district.”
Irish shifted around in his chair. “Franny, I know you wanted to beef up the Galway district, since that’s where the Alliance has the most troops. For that reason I’d agree with you normally. But I got a strange message from the Erebus last night. Said after we’ve launched our attacks, to withdraw any that remained around the 41st. Didn’t explain, just said to beat feet.”
Franny’s mouth quirked. “Beat feet? Sounds like Willy’s been on the radio again.”
“Right the first time,” Irish said with a smile. “I think it also means we can thin out the snipers around that garrison, and beef up other locations.”
“Okay, we’ll switch at least six teams up north to Cork,” Franny said. “Two Eagles, you’n me can talk whether more are needed up there or elsewhere.”
By the time they broke for the evening meal, Irish had received the entire mission brief for the LRS. The morning’s conference call with the Freedom Fighter commanders had gone smoothly, while they laid out attack plans for the Alliance airfields and other garrisons. Finally he levered himself up, and headed for the chow hall. Now came the hard part–selling the overall plan to Brian and the Exec Council.
This time Brian had insisted they be the first to arrive. “Sometimes you can get a feeling whether they’re going to be agreeable or not,” he murmured. They watched the conference hall slowly fill. “Overall, they feel it’s about time we did something big.”
“Your security personnel adapting to the additional crew I brought with me?”
“No complaints so far. In fact, they’re envious of the fancy equipment they’ve got.”
“Let’s just hope it works like it’s supposed to,” Irish said, touching the tiny comm unit in his ear. “If nothing else, it should cause some confusion to the enemy.”
It was another ten minutes before the room was packed with the normal two hundred. Only ten of them-those around the central table-were voting members for this particular session, but the rest carried enough influence to sway the final outcome if they chose to do so.
Finally Brian raised his hands. “Let’s settle down and get started, people. Don’t want to be here all night, do we?” Within a minute the room was silent, except for the occasional whispered comment or shuffle of chairs.
“As promised, we’ve finalized our overall plans for the next step in removing not only the Legislaturists, but the Alliance troops who presently grow bolder with each passing day. Soon, I believe, they will insist upon taking over our government entirely. Before that occurs, we need to kick them off our world and out of the Eire system entirely.” This earned him several minutes of applause and shouts of agreement from everyone.
“I’d like to have the Ambassador from the Confederation give the briefing concerning how we’re going to do this. He’s worked very closely with the Freedom Fighter commanders from around the world. They have an excellent plan, one I fully approve of.” He gestured at Irish. “Mister Ambassador, the floor is yours.”
He stood, giving a half-bow while subvocalizing a commo check. “You got them spotted, Franny?”
“Yep. All three are seated at the table,” was the whispered reply.
“Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of the Confederation I applaud your continued efforts to throw off the yoke of oppression you’ve been living under all these years. My thanks to the nine officers of the freedom fighters for coming up with the plan I’m presenting to you today.” He touched his chest, and bent to pick up a glass of water while trying to cover the sudden vertigo.
“They’ve started broadcasting,” Franny whispered.
After a sip of water, Irish carefully set the glass down. “Begin the recording,” he subvocalized, looking around the room with a half smile. “Briefly put, we plan on attacking three airfields that the Alliance uses to base their Vipers and attack shuttles out of. Three garrisons will also be attacked, mainly targeting the Alliance troops and their munitions. The timeline for this is secret, but will be accomplished quite soon, if you give your approval for these efforts.”
He picked up a remote and flicked to the first picture which covered the screen in back of him. “Here’s a schematic showing the present enemy troop dispositions, plus how many Vipers and attack shuttles on the planet. The total number of Freedom Fighters we’ll use for these attacks…”
The briefing continued another twenty minutes before winding down. Irish looked around the room, lifting his eyebrows. “Are there any questions before I turn the meeting back over to the Chairman?”
It was another impatient hour before Irish could escape from the meeting. He hurried to Franny’s office, set up next to the LRS barracks. “You get a positive I.D.?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. One of the men in the back row, and three of the Exec Committee.”
Irish dropped into the chair next to his desk. “Hm. One more than we thought.”
“Franny nodded. “And before you ask, yes we were able to block their signals. Got good pictures of each guy, too.” He handed Irish a data cube. “Now what? You want them picked up?”
“No, not yet. Let’s see if they lead us to more of their kind. That way we can clean house on more than what’s floated to the surface so far.” He bounced to his feet. “In the meantime, tell everyone we’re a go for the attacks. I’ll be back after I talk with Brian about this.” He brandished the cube while hurrying off.
Brian had just sat behind his desk when Irish breezed in. “From the look on your face, I’d say you were successful in your efforts.”
He tossed the data cube on Brian’s desk and sat. “You might say so. We got an additional mouse in the trap from what we’d thought.”
Brian snatched up the cube and fed it into his reader. Minutes later he looked up, anger reddening his face. “Damn, man, I suspected we had rats in the attic, but didn’t know who. Having three of ‘em members of the Exec Committee…”
Irish held up a hand. “Before you explode, I’ve got a suggestion. Let’s follow them around awhile, see who they hobnob with. Might be able to remove more than just the head of the snake.”
Brian reluctantly nodded. “Two days. After that, we’ll have to move our asses out of here. Once the attacks begin, they’ll bombard this place for sure, since these three probably gave away our position.”
Irish shrugged. “All our commo’s been getting its signals bounced off a receiver a hundred klicks from here. But you’re right, it’d be a smart thing to do. In fact, I’d recommend all your bases do it ASAP. That way if the enemy had any hints of their present location it might reduce their chances for being caught.”
Brian shook his head. “I really don’t like all this moving around. That’s a risk all by itself.” He gave a sigh. “Ah, well. What must be, must be. You’d better get on with your chores. I’ll talk with you later.”
two days later, Irish watched the troops loading up in four vans. Last group out. Everyone else was on the move or in position.
Franny grinned at Irish. “Wipe that spoiled brat look off your face. Someone’s got to stay back and coordinate everything. You’re the obvious choice, Mister Ambassador.”
Irish gave a reluctant nod. “You’re right, but I still feel like I’m deserting you guys by staying back.”
“That’s part of being a leader. Live with it, Sir.” He shook his hand and trotted towards the nearest van.
“Easy for you to say,” muttered Irish, watching the four vehicles pull out of the underground garage. After a moment he gave himself a shake and strode away, mind busy.
Next morning he entered the Operations Center and scanned the four wall screens before seating himself at the assistant ope
rations position. Brian slid into the operations chief position next to him, a sparkle in his eye. “Damn, I feel like killing me some bad guys today.”
Irish smiled, buoyed by his enthusiasm. “Another three hours and our troops will hopefully start doing just that.”
“Any activity in space we should know about?” Brian asked.
“Last transmission said all was quiet. We’ll hear from them just before we give the go signal.”
“Good.” Brian pointed at the far left screen. “According to the ciphers near the 41st Division, you’re staying further back than the other airfields. Is it because the actual airstrip’s inside their perimeter?”
“Right the first time,” Irish said. “Their security’s tight enough we can’t get close to attack the aircraft while on the ground. Have to wait until they take off, so we can knock them out of the air.”
Brian studied the map again. “Risky, isn’t it?”
Irish gave a quick nod. “That’s why we sent extra LRS troops with the freedom fighters on that particular mission. It’ll be important for them to break contact and disappear quickly. Hopefully having troops along that are good at backing off when the time calls for it will help.”
Brian studied the screen a moment longer, and shook his head. “Let’s pray we don’t send them and the rest to their deaths today.”
* * *
Near Alliance 41st Division Perimeter:
Franny turned up the gain on his helmet’s comm–still nothing. The team he’d sent to the north side of the Division’s lines had dropped off-line in mid sentence. A crackling hiss was all he got now. He gave another look at the Alliance airfield four klicks away in the middle of the garrison’s perimeter and shrugged. Hopefully Sergeant Theiss and his team were still okay. Since he couldn’t raise anyone else, it was probably a glitch in his commo system. He eyeballed the scene below him, noting with satisfaction the sun’s rays were now hidden behind the western mountains. Good time to do this.
Franny crawled backwards from the crest of the ridgeline and waved the ten members of his group over while lifting his faceplate. “My comm’s out. Anyone able to contact the outside world?”
Two hands went up. He pointed at the nearest, Corporal Kristopher. “See if you can raise the other team. Let me know when they’re in position.”
Kristopher nodded vigorously. “They already called in, Sir, ‘bout five minutes ago.”
Franny shook his head. Five minutes wasted. “Corporal, if anyone else calls let me know. You’re the commo tech until I say otherwise, okay?”
Another enthusiastic nod. “Will do, Sir.”
He surveyed the group, noting their barely contained excitement. Damn, wish he could bottle the energy that poured off them. “Okay, everyone in position. Remember, lay out your launchers so they’re close at hand and ready to fire. When the action starts, we need to make every second count, besides every shot.”
Two busy minutes later everyone had laid out the four rockets each had carried in rucksacks to the location. Even though compact, the rockets themselves weighed ten kilograms apiece. He crawled the length of the line, ensuring everyone was prepped and at least ten meters apart. Once he’d positioned his own rockets, he pointed at Kristopher, situated to his right. “Tell HQ to start the ball rolling,” he murmured.
He sat back, keeping an eye out for any movement from his team. After ten minutes, nothing had stirred. Franny smiled in satisfaction. Fresh troops sometimes tended to get fidgety. This was a good bunch. A hiss from Kristopher alerted him.
“They’re spooling up now, sir. Should see ‘em taking off within a minute or so.”
“Pass the word. Lock and load,” he said, following his own orders and prepping his rocket launcher. “Remember, right side of the line gets the first aircraft on the right. Know your number so you don’t double up shots on one target.” A whining roar alerted all of them when the first Viper streaked off the ground, rapidly followed by seven more. Six shuttles lifted behind them, and another flight of Vipers rolled onto the tarmac in preparation for lifting.
An explosive whoosh closely followed by several more signaled the first fusillade of rockets. Within seconds the sounds of aircraft and rockets had become intermingled into a howling mass of noise that impacted on the ears. Franny was pawing the ground for another rocket when he realized all his rounds were expended.
He rolled away from the ridgeline and came to his feet. “Let’s go!” He waved his arm to the south, pumping his fist to signal the need to move. Bodies poured by him, making it difficult to keep track. Was that all of them? He’d lost count. Franny spun around to double-check everyone had left the site when the first explosion from a Viper’s missile knocked him from his feet. He barely had time to raise his head when the world erupted in a screaming roar of noise and pain…
ONBOARD RAGNAROK (Day +98)
Haven was finally relaxing after a stressful eight hours arguing with the Legislaturist government. He sipped his tea, satisfaction filling him. They’d finally agreed to his “suggestions,” and were allowing his forces to conduct sweeps inside the major cities during the recently imposed curfews. This would make the next step easy to accomplish-increase the number of troops within each city to enforce the peace.
A knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. “Come,” he said, irritation creeping in. He’d left instructions not to be disturbed.
Captain Winters strode in, a strained look on his face. “Admiral, there’ve been several incidents on the planet’s surface.”
Haven deliberately took a last drink of tea. Could this be the opportunity he’d been looking for? Maybe now he could make use of the division of troops he’d ordered sent from the fourth planet they’d invaded. They should be here any time. “What happened?”
“There were raids on three airfields and two large garrisons, Sir. We’re still tabulating the damage.”
Haven sat his cup down forcefully. “Route all information to my desk comp. Get our operations team on the line, also. I suspect we’ll have to advance our plans for what we want to do on Eire.”
For the next thirty minutes, information poured in. Finally, Haven slammed his fist on his desk. “Where were our security forces? You’d think…” He took a deep breath, fighting for calm. “Let’s have a summary of events, if you please.”
Winters nodded, uneasy at the anger he saw in the Grand Admiral’s eyes. “Three airfields raided. Two of them had extensive damage with four hangars burnt to the ground at each, plus forty attack shuttles and thirty-five Vipers destroyed. Most of the aircraft we lost were still on the ground. At the airfield for the 41st Division, twelve Vipers and sixteen attack shuttles destroyed.”
Haven gritted his teeth, forcing his voice to sound calm. “How about the two garrisons? I didn’t see any numbers for troops killed or wounded.”
Winters shook his head. “Only report so far is the two ammo bunkers being blown up.”
Haven took a deep breath, pushing the rage down. “Any word on enemy casualties?”
“All sites except the 41st claim hundreds killed, and the rest being hunted down.” He glanced at Haven. “In my opinion, the only report that isn’t vastly inflated is for the 41st Division, Sir. They only found sixteen dead, so far.”
“I happen to agree, Captain.” Haven brought up a map of the planet’s surface on his screen. “These losses are unacceptable to us. I want to advance the timetable for our takeover of the planet’s surface so it begins within the next eighteen hours. Get the regiment that’s by Youghdal airlifted up to the Division’s garrison before then. Also, take the artillery tubes we’ve got stored for shipping to the Alliance and move them to the Division’s garrison as well. The General is to divide his forces into attack groups. They’ll assault all suspected rebel outposts. That includes using artillery against any and all towns that resist our advance.” He paused a moment, eyes flicking across the map on his screen.
“Those locations
we have suspected of being rebel garrisons in the cave systems between Ennis and Cork will be bombarded from space. I want the Ragnarok moved into high orbit around the planet, so we can take care of that ourselves.” He paused, mind rapidly ticking over.
“We’re short of Vipers and attack shuttles on the surface now, so have battleships and battlecruisers rotate closer in-system to offload twenty percent of their craft to be used as air support for the ground forces.”
By the time Haven had finished his rapid-fire orders, the bridge was a beehive of activity. He nodded in satisfaction and turned to Winters. “Have you got the latest map showing our deployment in the system?”
Winters brought a map up on Haven’s screen. “Updated an hour ago, Sir.”
“Any trace of the ghost ship you think’s in the neighborhood?”
“No Sir, not yet. We had traces of an emergence two hours ago, but no sign of it,” Winters said, frustration sharpening his tone.
Haven nodded. “It’s only a matter of time before we catch one. Hopefully we capture it intact. I’d love to get my hands on that technology.” He pointed at the screen. When’s the last time our hidden ships checked in?”
“Yesterday, right on time. Sounded a bit lonely.”
“Heh. Bet they are. No contact with anyone for several months can get pretty monotonous, even with all the entertainment facilities battleships have at their disposal.”
Winters touched the screen where the ten battleships were nestled among a group of asteroids. “Besides these, we’ve reconfigured the twenty-five battleships and twenty-four battlecruisers in four groups, twenty light-seconds out from the sun, and equidistant from each other.”
“Good. How about the nexus points?”
“Two battleships at each location, two light seconds out from them.” Winters touched the locations on the screen. “Our survey ship hasn’t found any other nexus points in the system, closer than forty light-minutes. Having the two we know of covered gives us a secure system in my opinion, Sir.”
