The Landfall Campaign (The Nameless War)

by Edmond Barrett

“Admiral.”

  “General.”

  “This is Major Paterson,” Arlidge nodded to the second officer, “he is commander of Hampton Roads.”

  The Major nodded jerkily, his expression was pinched and the tension was obvious in his posture.

  “I take it you’ve seen our new arrivals,” Eulenburg said.

  “We couldn’t really miss them,” Arlidge replied with grim humour before becoming all business. “If they intend to take up orbit they’re going to have to clear it of any combat units. That means taking out Hampton Roads. Unfortunately I’ve read the reports from Earth. I know they fight at long range with missiles, which wasn’t what Hampton Roads was designed for.”

  “We’ve been running simulations for the past couple of months,” Paterson said. The Major’s voice sent a shiver down Eulenburg’s spine. This was a man who had accepted he wasn’t going to see the end of the day. “On our own we can’t stand off a force of any significant strength.” It was all too true. Hampton Roads had been designed to fight at mid to short range against opponents armed with energy weapons and under those circumstances, could expect to defeat her own tonnage in starships. Against the Nameless and their long-range missiles however, the fort wouldn’t be able to hit back at all, which meant it was now probably little more than a death trap.

  “I intend to launch all of my space fighters to support the station. I’ve spoken to the Chinese and they’re in as well.”

  It won’t work. Eulenburg thought. Hampton Roads was the wrong weapon in the wrong place. The Americans could do the maths just as well as he could, but then the fort couldn’t run, couldn’t hide and the Nameless couldn’t afford to simply leave it. But with a little luck, the fort might delay them for a few hours.

  “We’ll launch in support.” Eulenburg looked at the Major and wondered whether would be an insult to wish ‘good luck’ to a man who was about to die. “Both you and your crew have my gratitude Major.”

  Eulenburg returned to Four C’s main chamber, “Prepare the fighters, recall all off-base planes and personnel and send an FTL transmission to Earth: ‘Planet being approached by enemy task group. Enemy intentions unknown. Will engage any starship that enters range’.”

  “Yes sir,” Gillum replied, and then hesitated. “Admiral what about Mister Wyman and the rest of his people?”

  “Have we anyone close?”

  Gillum tapped the query into his computer.

  “There is a party with two planes out close to the New London settlement. It’s the group recovering those old fighters. One of them would be enough to carry all the people at New Lexington, but it is about seventy minutes flight time from their current position, almost directly away from us. That would put them over three hours flight time from us. If they don’t get fuel at Lexington, sir we’re going to have to put up a tanker.”

  Contact the Americans at Endeavour and find out if they have anyone closer. If so let them pick up their own people,” Eulenburg grunted, “The last thing we need is that man back here.”

  “If they don’t sir?”

  “Then we have to. Inform the pilot he is to have left Lexington no later than 1pm. However he has my authority to leave early or abort if he judges it necessary.”

  “Yes sir. Is there anything else?”

  “Not yet anyway,” Eulenburg replied heavily as he looked up at the main holo, with its single blip showing the orbital fort preparing its first and last stand.

  ___________________________

  The drone of the Cleveland transport plane’s four engines was quite soothing, and Alice usually tended to go to sleep almost as soon they took off. Not this time however. They’d just watched the last of the Typhoons take off for Douglas and finished loading the spare parts for them onto the transports, when the news of the Nameless’s arrival reached them. They lost nearly an hour emptying parts out of their plane and putting them onto the other. Finally while the other plane - dangerously overloaded - took off for Douglas, they headed for Lexington.

  “Damn those bloody idiots.” Rob said for the umpteenth time.

  “Yes, I know.” Alice replied, also for the umpteenth time.

  “I mean seriously. Why did they think we took them to Douglas in the first place? For fun and giggles?”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “We’re still going to be airborne when the Nameless arrive you know.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  Rob gave her a sour look.

  “Are you listening to me or are you just saying ‘yes, I know’?” he demanded.

  “Well what do you want me to say?” she responded in an equally sour voice. “That you’re wrong, that they aren’t idiots?”

  “Well this sucks. It sucks!”

  “Try seeing it from my point of view. I’m not a soldier…”

  “Marine.”

  “Whatever! The only military training I got was ‘stay out of the way’.”

  “Yeah. Pity we couldn’t fit you onto the other plane.”

  “Yes I know.” Alice replied with a sigh. “What do you think the Nameless are planning?”

  “Don’t know. Didn’t get much detail.”

  “Taskforce of ships, not that big,” said Lieutenant Avedon, suddenly standing over them. “That’s not our problem though,” he added before shouting down the length of the plane at the rest of the squad. “Listen up! We’re twenty minutes out from Lexington. We haven’t managed to raise anyone on the radio. First order of business once we hit the ground is to find any fuel available and get it into this tin can. There probably isn’t going to be enough to get back to Douglas but every drop we do get allows us to crack on a little extra speed on the way back. I don’t know what the situation in Lexington is, so we’re going out with full kit on. You,” he nodded at Alice, “stay close to the aircraft and stay out of the way. Any questions?”

  There were a collection of replies or grunts indicating a negative and the Lieutenant headed back to the cockpit.

  “Stay out of the way,” Alice muttered, “story of my life.”

  The Cleveland circled Lexington’s small airport twice trying to raise the tower before landing. Marines spilled out the rear ramp, weapons in hand, almost before the plane stopped moving. At a shouted command from Avedon, half the squad peeled off and headed for the small terminal building while the rest formed a skirmish line around the plane.

  There was a shout from the terminal as a young man with a mop in his hand came into view. Alice wandered close enough to listen as the startled man was hustled over to the Lieutenant.

  “Who are you?” Avedon demanded without any preamble.

  “Erm… erm… Alan Jagg, err, sir.”

  “Where the hell is everyone? We’ve been trying to raise the tower for the last half hour.”

  “Erm… there’s just… there’s just me. Mister Swets, the controller, he stayed at the shelter. I was… I was doing the cleaning, y’know.” Jagg stuttered as the Lieutenant glared at him.

  “You mean to tell me that no one has been monitoring the radio.” Avedon pulled off his helmet and ran his hand through his hair. “Holy mother of God!”

  “Well y’know the cleaning…” Jagg started to whine.

  “Shut up! Where the hell is everyone?”

  “They’re back in the town and the farms…”

  “Right, Sergeant Sharm. Take numbnuts here into the terminal, find a phone and start calling.” Avedon spun round, taking Alice by surprise. “Peats, ask the pilot how long we have. Corporal, that looks like a fuel truck over there. Go see what’s in it.”

  Alice and the rest of the squad scattered in response to the Lieutenant’s stream of orders. The two pilots looked up with surprise when Alice burst into the cockpit. She stopped abruptly when she saw one of them start to reach for his sidearm.

  “Sorry ‘bout that,” he said. “What’s up?”

  “The Lieutenant wants to know how long we have.”

  “Maximum forty minutes and we’re out of here.”
the pilot replied.

  “What happens if they aren’t here by then?”

  “Then they’re walking, ‘cos in forty minutes we’re out of here. With or without ‘em.”

  ___________________________

  “Contact separation,” the call echoed across Four C as a fresh set of blips appeared on the holo and accelerated away from the enemy task group. Major Paterson was working his command as cleverly as possible. He’d altered Hampton Roads’ orbit to keep the station behind the planet relative to the Nameless, forcing the Nameless to either split their force or carry on into orbit and accept action at short range.

  Against a smaller force it might have worked. But the Nameless task group could split in half and still have overwhelming advantage.

  The salvo of missiles came curving down on Hampton Roads. As it passed through successive layers of fighters they whittled it down to nothing. The Nameless methodically threw out more. As the range dropped, the Nameless began to fire their smaller missiles as well as the big cap ship missiles, trebling the number of incoming projectiles. Fighters started to drop away as their ordnance was exhausted and missiles began to get through. Hampton Roads’ point defence blazed frantically, swatting small missiles while the fort’s big lasers burned down the larger ones.

  Eulenburg watched impassively as the fort desperately defended itself. The first missiles to impact were small. Many burst ineffectively against the armour, but others damaged systems. Sections of Hampton Roads’ point defence grid went down, letting more through.

  The first direct hit by a cap ship missile was devastating. It tore open the fort’s port side. It must have killed much of the garrison but still they fought. The last of the fighters fell away, leaving the fort alone, but still they fought. One after another the laser batteries were silenced, leaving only one or two point defence guns to desperately flail away. Finally a missile found her heart and in a flash of nuclear fury Hampton Roads was gone. The Nameless continued into Landfall’s orbit. In Four C Eulenburg could only watch as grim inevitability bore down on them

  ___________________________

  Brigadier Chevalier ran his hands through his close-cropped hair as he looked out across the base at the great snaking lines of humanity. The tent city had originally been put up around the main entrance to the shelter. The autumn rains had flooded out that site, forcing a repositioning to the closest piece of high ground. But that had brought problems of its own.

  “Give the order to fix bayonets. The line is already too close to the silos. We have to push people back away from them,” he ordered a harassed looking colonel.

  “Yes sir. The second battalion is starting to move but it going to be another half-hour before they reach us.”

  “Tell them to expedite their movements,” Chevalier replied. “Damn it! The line is starting to push in over there again! Send more men!”

  The tent city was now two kilometres as the crow flies from the shelter entrance. Not far, but smack between the two were the four great silos of missile defence. From these would emerge the missiles that would target orbiting starships. The power needed to lift these weapons aloft was immense, as was the backwash. Despite the blast shields and raised earthen banks, any unprotected human within five hundred metres of a launching missile would be killed.

  “Sir, call from Four C,” a lieutenant called out. “On radio band D, sir.”

  “Understood. Admiral, are you receiving me?”

  “Yes, Sebastian, Hampton Roads is gone. What is the status of the evacuation?”

  “We’re getting about twenty thousand an hour back underground.”

  “Sebastian, there are nearly five hundred thousand up there. That isn’t fast enough. In three hours the Nameless arrive. At that rate we’re going to have nearly four hundred thousand people up there!”

  “Alfred, I can’t give you a better offer. We are already running risks up here. If there is a panic, there will be a stampede. If there’s a stampede we will lose hundreds of people.”

  There was pause on the line.

  “Is that likely?” Eulenburg asked eventually.

  “Getting more likely by the second, sir. We have to dog-leg the line round the missile silos. I have hundreds of thousands of people trying to straighten the line and less than two thousand marines trying to keep them far enough away from the silos.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Tell me we aren’t going to need the missiles.”

  “I can’t do that Sebastian.”

  “I know.”

  There was a silence between them, broken only by the hiss of the radio carrier wave.

  “Sir, is there anything else?” Chevalier asked after a few moments.

  “No, no. This is Four C over and out.” The connection went dead.

  Chevalier’s brow furrowed with worry. He didn’t like the almost naked fear he heard in his friend’s voice and found himself wondering whether he had made a desperate mistake in leaving Four C. They’d been friends for a long time, but standing there on the low hill looking out across this sprawling mass of humanity, for the first time he found himself doubting his friend. If the time came, could Eulenburg be counted on to make the hard decision?

  “Get me a scout car,” he snapped. “I’m going down there myself.”

  ___________________________

  The truck crackled and popped as flames lapped over it and the cherished personal belongings it contained. Blue smoke billowed out from the centre of the flames, marking the spot where Lieutenant Avedon had thrown the white phosphorus grenade. The owner, a young man in his mid-thirties, cursed and swore at the lieutenant as he struggled with the two marines holding him. His wife wailed as their belongings went up in smoke, while her child, a cute looking little girl, clung to her leg.

  The family had turned up ten minutes before in their vehicle laden with personal effects, which the man expected to load onto the plane. Avedon had taken one look and told him not a chance. The man argued the point and after a few minutes the Lieutenant’s patience visibly snapped and the grenade was expertly thrown.

  “Get them onto the plane!” Avedon roared. “Beat him unconscious if you have to!” he added pointing at the man.

  “Lieutenant,” came another voice. It was from the plane’s pilot leaning out of the aircraft’s rear hatch. “Four minutes!”

  There was a cough and splutter from one of the engines as the starter motor turned it over. Then the prop started to spin. One after another the four engines spun up to idling speed. Avedon strode back and forth, glancing towards the road into the airfield.

  Seventy-two people had returned to New Lexington. Only thirty of those seventy were now in the plane. The atmosphere was panicky. Those who had arrived weren’t all complete families. At least one husband was missing and the marines were on edge. Half of them were in the plane keeping order and looked more like prison guards than rescuers.

  Alice was close enough to the Lieutenant to hear him mutter to himself.

  “That’s it. We’re out of here. Sergeant! Pack up. We’re going!”

  Along with the rest of the marines, Alice piled onto the plane. She threw herself into a spare seat, sandwiched between two colonists. Even as the ramp came up, the plane started rolling.

  “What are you doing?” The speaker was Wyman, on his feet trying to push his way through to the Lieutenant. A pair of marines roughly shoved him back down. “There’s only half of us here!” he pleaded. “We can’t go!”

  “Our time’s up, we’re taking off.” Avedon snapped back as he pushed and shoved his way down the fuselage.

  “You coward! You’re all cowards!” Wyman screamed. “You want to run and hide!”

  Avedon stopped dead in his tracks. He turned on his heels towards Wyman, his expression murderous. With two steps he closed on the civilian, his hand clamped around Wyman’s throat and half lifted, half dragged him out of his seat.

  “You were safe at Douglas!” the Lieutenant screamed bac
k at him. “You chose to leave! Just coming here has already risked my men. We have no escort, we are sitting fucking ducks out here!” As he was speaking the Lieutenant dragged Wyman towards a side access hatch and pushed it open.

  “Your choice: sit down and shut up, or get out! Well?”

  A trembling Wyman backed away from the hatch, Avedon slammed it closed and headed for the cockpit.

  The plane reached the end of the taxiway and turned onto the runway. The tone of the engines dropped for a moment as they lined up. Then with a roar they accelerated down the runway.

  Alice glanced out through the small port that was slightly below her shoulder and caught a glimpse of a truck racing through the airfield gateway. She opened her mouth, and then closed it without speaking. Alice was no pilot but she could tell they were already committed. With a final couple of bumps the Cleveland was up and away.

  ___________________________

  “Both groups will achieve high orbit in fifteen minutes, sir.”

  Eulenburg nodded without speaking. He, Captain Gillum and Helen Reynolds all stood in Four C’s command booth watching the main holographic display.

  The two groups of Nameless ships had continued to separate and were now positioned to enter orbital tracks that would put them on opposite sides of the planet.

  “Sir, the control tower at New Lexington is still transmitting,” reported another officer. “They’re asking for evacuation. Begging, sir.”

  Eulenburg and Captain Gillum exchanged grim looks.

  “Keep ordering them to shut down and get clear of the settlement,” Eulenburg replied heavily.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Admiral, do you believe we’ll be able to rescue those people later?” Reynolds asked quietly.

  “Only if the Nameless withdraw completely,” Eulenburg replied flatly, “and don’t think New Lexington is worth bothering with. Something that is less and less likely if they keep transmitting.”

  Reynolds, blessedly, made no reply.

  Four C was almost silent. Eulenburg could never remember it being so quiet.