“Copy that, Commander.”
Two hours passed as more and more wealth moved from the depository vaults (there were four) and onto the shuttles. Hestian was supervising another load when a call came in from the one assault shuttle parked outside. The other had moved off to another target.
“Commander, I have a crowd approaching my position,” the pilot stated, voice still calm. “Over two hundred. A number of them have guns; looks like rifles and handguns. The rest seem to have improvised weapons. Looks like knives and clubs.”
“Take them out,” Hestian ordered without hesitation. “Our valiant Aquinnean escorts seem to have gotten caught up in all the fun of a ground invasion, so we’re on our own. We can’t afford to get cut off from you.”
“Understood.” In the shuttle, the pilot pressed a control, and the topside anti-infantry needler cannon came online. Another switch brought the targeting feeds, and a third opened fire. A spray of metallic slivers sliced into the approaching crowd, which erupted in screams. The pilot swiveled the gun left and right, scything through the Geldar armed effectives.
A few stalwart (and lucky) souls fired back. Some stood their ground and fired their guns, but were easily picked off. Others dropped behind cover (usually the bodies of their fallen comrades) to return fire. The pilot had a harder time dispatching them, in fact, he couldn’t get all of them. Luckily, the assault shuttle’s hardened armor withstood the barrage of bullets with no damage.
But the fight went out of the civilians. Once the first two score of the mob was gunned down, the rest broke and ran. The pilot ceased shooting at them, instead concentrating on any valiant stragglers left behind.
“Still taking fire, Commander,” the pilot commed. “Be advised; there are four men and a woman hiding amongst the bodies. They are armed, but they keep managing to get back under cover before I can get them.”
“Copy that. Help is on the way.” Hestian looked to the War Leader. “Vok, deal with them.”
The zheen bobbed his antennae. “First squad, on me. We’re heading to the main entrance. We need to sweep the landing area clear of hostiles.” He and four armed soldiers headed back up the main corridor at a run.
“Next load ready, Commander,” Cromm told him, leaning his long-handled axe on one shoulder, and holding a gold bar in his free hand.
Hestian nodded. “Get them to the shuttle, but wait until War Leader Vok gives the all clear. This is the last load for this shuttle. One of the big cargo jobs will be taking over for us.”
“Understood.” The Secaaran seemed a bit… down.
“What is it?” Hestian snapped, his tone perhaps a bit harsher than intended.
The big man flinched. “Nothing, Commander. The gold is good. More than I ever saw in one place before and I understand there are more rooms like this elsewhere in this land.”
“But?”
The Secaaran sighed. “I just wish there were more enemies to fight.” He fingered the gold bar, his fingers making it ring with each tap.
Hestian chuckled, ignoring the other’s action. “Don’t worry. Things are quiet now. But when we move on the second stage, I think things will get more interesting for you.”
((--[][]--))
The sounds of planes overhead continued throughout the day and into the night as more and more Aquinnean soldiers and armored vehicles were brought in. Hestian and his troops confined themselves to the areas immediately surrounding the gold depositories, all three in the city of Ithros.
The Aquinneans surrounded the capital city, seized all government buildings and began pillaging the city. Reports over the comms from the cities of Festan and Romis indicated the same. The Geldar armed forces were doing their best to fight back, but were caught flat-footed and were overwhelmed. The bulk of their troops slaughtered in the bombardments from the cruisers in orbit had destroyed their morale as well. With only a quarter of their forces facing two-thirds of the might of Aquinnea, the Geldarians were quickly overwhelmed and either killed or captured.
By morning, they were still at it. The gold depositories in the capital were emptied; their treasures now rested in the holds of Trokakk and TrinaMarie. Hestian moved his groups to Festan, to secure the loot there and the other teams to Romis. They were moving at a good clip and resistance was all but crushed. The lupusan expected they’d finish in Geldar by mid-afternoon.
((--[][]--))
President Callas flew to Geldar on his private jet, and once it landed on a highway, he stepped off and hustled down the road to the concrete parking lot of the gold depository surrounded by his advisors, every one of them beaming ear to ear. They were all showing so many teeth it made Hestian’s fingers twitch with the need to start carving them up.
“My friend!” the President boomed as he moved closer to where Hestian stood, stretching his arms wide as though he would hug the wolf. “This is a great day! With your help, we have finally stomped the Geldar menace into dust. We’ve captured their leaders, and I am seriously considering putting them in front of a tribunal for crimes against humanity.”
Hestian grunted, finding that statement ironic considering the amount of plundering, violence, rape and outright destruction Nordd Callas had not only allowed in this invasion but encouraged. He’d all but ordered his men to wipe the ‘scourge of the west’ from Aquinnea’s borders during one of his radio speeches as the attack was underway.
“You do as you see fit, President Callas,” the lupusan told him. “I’m only interested in the gold.” The red gold was filling his coffers nicely, nearly three-quarters of a billion in New Dublin pounds worth of gold had been taken so far. This last load would fill the third of Trokakk’s three cargo cans and the second of TrinaMarie’s rebuilt cargo holds. This last load would bring the total to over eight hundred million New Dublin pounds. Those blood-gold mines were truly bottomless indeed.
This did not diminish Callas’s grin. “Of course, my friend, of course. You get paid, I get the Union of Geldar and those mines.”
Hestian only grunted again. His datapad beeped. “This is our last load. Once it’s on board the shuttles, we will depart Geldar.”
Callas, greatly daring (or perhaps not realizing his peril in his exuberance), reached forward and clasped Hestian’s large, clawed hand in both of his, shaking it in glee. “I wish you and your people well, Commander Hestian. The lupusan extricated his hand, somehow managing to avoid skewering the man. “May the Divine grant you happiness and good fortune.”
“Oh, I think the Divine looks out for those who look after themselves, don’t you?” He chuckled, waving to encompass the building behind him, which was now empty. A train of hover and wheeled carts trundled by, laden with bars and boxes of blood gold.
“Indeed, my friend, indeed,” Callas agreed, then threw his head back and simply shouted with joy. “Oh, what a fine day!”
The lupusan commander shook his head and turned away, following the carts out to the shuttles. Callas remained outside for several minutes, watching the shuttles close up. As all three ships dusted off, he waved to them but quickly moved inside with the rest of his advisors once the engines blew dirt and grit all over.
The assault and cargo shuttles rose out of the atmosphere of Elcor and delivered their loads to TrinaMarie and Summer Grass. Once empty, the soldiers readied their weapons and then the ships flew back down.
And the looting of Aquinnea began.
Those warehouses on the edge of the capital city were hit first. Lightly defended, the soldiers of Verrikoth were inside in minutes with only a few shots fired. Stocks of steel, copper, aluminum, tungsten, zinc and more were just waiting to be taken, and they were. Light metal alloys were scooped up, as were various machinery and tools. Aquinnea’s capital was crammed with more warehouses and they, too, were broken into. They were stuffed with valuables. One was an armory with crates of the local rifles, bullets, and explosives and Hestian ordered as many of the boxes of explosives as could fit be taken. Then after a moment’s thought, he ordered
a hundred crates of rifles as well as several hundred thousand rounds of ammunition. Cheap, dirty and primitive the weapons might be, but they were easy to produce and train on.
Other storehouses were filled with more obvious forms of wealth: gems, jewelry, pieces of art, but also large amounts of silver and platinum. There was also a fair amount of red and yellow gold to be found, as well, but it wasn’t in bricks, it was incorporated into the artwork as ornamentation. Hestian and his people took everything they could find.
Three hours later a radio call came through from President Callas, relayed through their network of ground stations. The call was laced with static, but Hestian could clearly make out the words.
“You bastard! We had a deal! You get the gold from Geldar, and in return, you would leave Aquinnea alone!”
Hestian laughed at him. “I promised nothing of the sort. I let you help me get the gold I wanted, and I did offer not to harm your people so long as they stayed peaceful. You wanted to capture Geldar, and I helped you do that.” The chattering of gunfire erupted only a couple of city blocks away. “But it sounds as though your people are getting unruly. You might want to think about getting back here, but of course, that is entirely up to you.” He ended the call.
He turned and hustled to where War Leader Vok and his platoon were forming up. The citizens here were starting to riot, and the remainder of the Army was hard pressed to hold them at bay. They, too, had begun looting, and their efforts were getting close to where Hestian’s ships were parked.
“War Leader, sitrep.”
Vok checked his weapon one last time as he spoke. “Mob’s moving this way, Commander. This should be the last load if we don’t want to get rolled over by the mobs.”
Hestian gave a short bark. “Afraid of some rowdy civilians, Vok?”
Vok clacked his mandibles, watching hover carts loaded with boxes of emergency rations go by. The Aquinnean version of the stuff was high in nutrient and caloric value but had a redeeming quality that many other varieties lacked: it had almost no taste. Most others tasted rancid or smelled foul; these tasted like wet sponges. So, Hestian gave the order to grab some. Food stocks in Tyseus were not critical, but having a reserve couldn’t hurt.
“No, Commander, I am not afraid, but a mob full in the throes of rage will not be slowed by a few platoons of soldiers. Not unless we slaughter them in job lots, but that would take a lot of ammo. And if they rush us, we run the risk of being overrun, with that many that close.”
Hestian considered that then unclenched his suddenly tight muscles. “No, you are right. We get this last bit loaded, and then we go. I think we’ve gotten enough.”
“War Leader!” Dragga called from up the street. She was looking around a corner.
“Unruk Platoon, Cromm, Stryx, let’s move!” Vok ordered. Hestian hung back, giving commands to the workers and bots to step it up.
Trotting up to the female Secaaran, who was hefting her hammer in pre-battle excitement, Vok said, “Report.”
She pointed a finger at the oncoming group. Two armored personnel carriers and four combat cars armed with machine guns were escorting perhaps fifty fully armed Aquinnean soldiers. Easily three or four hundred armed civilians followed along behind, less than half a block away from where Vok was standing.
“Must have cut around from the side streets,” Dragga explained before Vok could ask. “Weren’t there a few moments ago.”
“Can’t worry about that right now,” Vok snapped, cursing their lack of air cover and close air support. Thankfully, the Aquinneans didn’t have any either. But the ships in orbit were supposed to be watching for those kinds of things. “Unruk, get ready. I want plasma grenades fired at the vehicles and get ready to hose the troops. How many rockets do we have left?”
“Three,” one of the zheen replied.
“Perfect hit the APCs. Smoke first, then grenades into the confusion, then we hit them hard. Gotta give the freighters on the ground the time they need to lift. We hit them hard and fast, and once they break or withdraw, we pull back to the assault shuttle, and we’re gone. Get me?”
An acknowledgment of growls and whoops came back. Twenty against four hundred were not good odds, even with all their tech advantages. But Vok didn’t need to win; he just needed to sew chaos, to delay them long enough to get away with their loot.
“Smash Pack!” Three more roars of excitement were the reply. “Soon as the grenades are fired, you charge. Break up any formations; do what you do best. We’ll be covering you.”
The platoon rushed out from behind the building, firing smoke grenades and within seconds a decent bank of smoke started to form.
“Grenadezzz,” Vok yelled, his voice buzzing and the rounds were launched. Explosions rocked the street as the vehicles blew up, raining debris, shrapnel, and fire on the troops and the mob behind.
Vok pointed. “Smash Pack! Forward!” The trio screamed and charged toward the enemy. They burst through the smoke and slammed full tilt into the confusion, chopping and bashing through the terrified Aquinnean soldiers.
Using infrared sights, the fighters of Unruk platoon opened fire, dropping anyone the Secaarans missed, even picking off those who might have exploited an opening on the siblings.
The whine of repulsors flooded the area; the freighters were taking off. Vok’s comm chimed as Hestian ordered a recall. He signaled his people and everyone, even the Secaarans caught up in their battle-lust, drew back.
“Get back here! Get on the shuttles! Move!” Vok shouted over the chaos. All of them sprinted to safety. As the last of them charged up the ramps, the Aquinneans tore around the corner, hate and blood in their eyes, guns blazing. The shuttles lifted off, the hatches sealing and the engines roared, sending the ships screaming into the sky.
((--[][]--))
“We’ve monitored the transmission from that President fellow,” V’ka’sith said, sometime later. Hestian was back in his quarters aboard Adrasteia, and they were speaking through virtual displays. “He sounded rather upset,” he said dryly, hissing with mirth.
“Can’t imagine why” the lupusan replied sardonically. Hestian wanted to just flop on his bunk and sleep, but he needed a shower to get the smell of that planet out of his nose and off his fur. He started to strip off his clothes and vest, uncaring that the zheen was watching.
V’ka’sith didn’t even seem to notice. “A preliminary on the count,” he said, check a datapad.
“How did we do?” the lupusan asked, taking the clothes and tossing them into the laundry refresher.
“Just north of a billion New Dublin pounds.” The zheen sounded amazed. “Toss in the art, and we arrive, conservatively, at just about one point two billion. And that doesn’t count all of the metal stocks, guns, and food we took. An impressive haul, to say the least. I don’t think the Warlord would have any complaints.”
“Excellent,” Hestian replied, smiling. Then he threw his head back and howled in delight. “Ha! That idiot President let me run him into one hell of a situation.”
“What do you think Callas will do?” V’ka’sith asked, amused.
Hestian straightened and then considered it. “I’m not sure. The fighting was pretty bad in Aquinnea with the mobs once we lifted. He was sending planes back from Geldar when we reached Adrasteia. I’d say he’s shifting some forces back for crowd control. And while the Geldar cities were pacified when we left, the minute he starts pulling troops, resistance is going to start. Mobs will form. And whatever he sends home probably won’t be enough. He might calm things down, but he’s going to lose most of his army and a good portion of his populace doing it.”
“I think you’re right.” V’ka’sith paused, checking something. “Well now. Interesting. Seems that Drusiliad is gearing up for an attack of their own. I think they’re going to wait for the dust to settle a bit and then strike. They could wipe the slate clean with only little resistance.”
Hestian thought about it, chuckled and then stretched. “Good for t
hem.” He walked to the small desk and pressed a control. “Bridge, this is the Commander. Signal all ships to break orbit, and set course for the hyper limit. We’re going back to Tyseus.”
“Yes, Commander.”
“Out.” He cut the connection. “Ready your ship, V’ka’sith. We have a jump ahead and then some resource reallocation to work on once we get back. Some ships will have to be sent to Amethyst for the trading of cargoes.”
“Sounds fine. I want my ship back,” V’ka’sith grumped.
“You’ll get it back. Once we get back, we can work on that. We can do a lot of things.” He stretched again. “See you at the hyper limit.” And he closed the connection. He turned and headed into the shower.
Chapter 14
Hecate was a mess; there was simply no other word for it. It had been over four years since Verrikoth had set foot in this system, but he could tell by the debris patterns that the locals had expanded their orbital infrastructure as well as their shipyards. Radiation fields clouded some of the area around the where the main shipyard complex used to be and a cloud of metal and alloys and biomatter was spreading out around the planet in high orbit.
“Damn those bastards,” Verrikoth said, clenching a fist. “Thiss waz a thriving ssysstem, with sshipss and structures and indusstry!” He looked over the sensor feeds as Nemesis came into range of the planet. “Look at thiss!”
Helk piped up. “I’m showing half a dozen shuttles and eight work pods flying around the debris fields, but I don’t think they’re doing more than collecting salvage.”
“Not going to get much done with only that many ships,” Tyler noted. “And it’s been a few months since the Republic attack. I wonder what they’ve gotten accomplished in that time.”
“Not very much at all, Commander,” Helk replied. “Looks like they’ve policed up some usable equipment and I think they’re starting to assemble some sort of structure. Grid 2259.” He pressed a control, and an image came up, a small structure with a central spire and a number of spokes. It also had two small compartments attached, and a large disk at the top. “Looks like any loose cargo containers and such are being loaded on to the disk. I think they’re using it as a collection point for now.”
The Warlord's Path: Samair in Argos: Book 6 Page 29
