Kelly Blake 3: Where the Stars Are Few and Far Between (39 page)

Alistair escorted the data to Fleet Intel, and did not return to the Orion.

* * * * *

Tammy briefed her squadron on their mission. They were to go in first to attack the command and control center with their hypervelocity missiles. The three moons were reduced to one gun per moon by hundreds of A-76 attacks. Allied Fleet tactical control was going to try and send them in when the moon’s orbits put the minimum guns able to target them on their attack runs. Tammy knew that guns able to bear or not, they were going to be sent in.

Later, as Tammy sat on the end of the runway awaiting the go signal, she thought of all she had done to prepare her squadron. She was at peace and unconflicted. She had done all she could to prepare her crews for this mission. Hours in the simulator, followed by live firing actual missiles on the local moon, made them as ready as she could make them.

The signal came and she applied power. Her ungainly June Bug waddled down the runway, slowly gaining speed as its engines strained under the full load of 24 missiles. She pulled back on the yoke and lifted up into the air. Once free of the ground, her ugly duckling became a swan. Tammy and her squadron climbed up through the atmosphere and into the jet black of space.

They quickly assembled, oriented on the ring and moved through, in flights of six, into space outside the K’Rang home system. Allied Tactical Control gave them the wait signal as the rest of her wing appeared behind them through the ring. Tammy looked at her monitor screen, oriented herself on the star at the center of the system, and counted out four planets.

There was G’Durin, the K’Rang home world. She didn’t have enough resolution at this range to pick out the moons, but she knew they were there, waiting for her squadron as she was waiting for the go signal. The signal came through and she applied power.

* * * * *

Shadow Leader G’Motta was proud of his command. Although they had lost all but a third of their firepower, they were still inflicting losses to the enemy. His engineers were working feverishly in hour-long shifts to unjam the doors of two of his guns, to bring them back into the fight.

His control center had been shaken by the attacks, but none of the hundreds of missiles had even tripped a circuit breaker. He felt confident that in three hours he would have five guns he could bring to bear. As long as he was operational with at least one gun, the Humans couldn’t bombard the planet or conduct a large-scale invasion.

He had reports of the raid on the Intel HQ, but that was only a raid. The Shadow Force should have anticipated that and evacuated to their cavern emergency center. Alas, hindsight is always 20/20.

G’Motta started as alarms went off on his monitors. The sensor view from two moons showed a large concentration of ships lining up for another attack. He looked at the symbols showing speed and heading and correctly deduced these were not the small carrier-launched attack craft. He had seen this profile before. These were the large slow attack ships, a wing of them, zeroing in on him.

He had three guns, of which two were not in range or aligned to fire on them. His one gun able to fire on them would pass out of alignment just after they reached maximum range. He ordered it to fire anyway, in hopes of hitting one or more ships with a burst of energy. It had happened three times since the attacks started. Luck was sometimes on their side today.

G’Motta called up the range and tracking prediction screen, and saw three aircraft of the first grouping might pass through the range fan of his gun, and he prepared to fill that patch of space with energy bolts. Just a few more seconds and he would know the results.

His gunner below him in the control room stabbed the fire button and pulses of destructive energy reached out for the four ships within its cone of fire. Two ships burst into gouts of orange flame and pinwheeled through space; the rest flew on. That was all he could do as the guns passed out of alignment with the oncoming attack ships. Now he braced for the incoming attack.

Two engineers in bulky environmental suits cut away at tangled metal with portable cutting units, attempting to free the blast doors on the gun nearest to the control center. The doors had fused together from the power of the antimatter warheads fired by the small attack ships. The engineers worked feverishly to cut away the fused section and free the workable gun underneath. They looked up to see orange bursts of light against the inky blackness of space, as the incoming attack ships ripple fired their missiles. The first impacts of the Human missiles resulted in shock waves so great the engineers were blown off the moon’s surface and out into space, sealing their doom.

The first 24 missiles hit just above the control center and blasted away at the solid rock covering it. G’Motta could feel the explosions through the floor. He discerned this was something new and bigger than he had experienced before. The Humans had a penetrator missile that was attempting to dig him out. His surface sensors had long ago been destroyed during the hundreds of prior missile strikes, so he had to imagine how long before these new missiles took away his ability to continue the fight. He determined that if the roof started caving in or his systems went offline from the shock, he would order his subordinates to the escape pods. If they could reach G’Durin's surface, they could help defend the capital against the invasion he knew was coming. Better that than dying uselessly in the vacuum of space.

* * * * *

Tammy’s ripple fire of 24 missiles created a larger crater than before, but several of the missiles detonated on the large debris expelled from the crater, reducing the effectiveness. She instructed her following ships to not ripple fire and fire half their missiles at a time with a two-second delay between. This should give the debris a chance to move out of the way and create fewer sympathetic detonations. She called Captain Tanaka and tactical control and said she would be making another run at the target and to hold the following squadrons back out of range.

She lined up her ships and had them attack the target one at a time, slowly chiseling away at the gray rock covering the control center, in a deadly methodical manner. At what felt like a glacially slow pace, ship after ship lined up and contributed to the growing crater.

* * * * *

G’Motta knew his command was doomed. The explosions were coming with a slow inexorable rhythm, chipping away at his protective cover. Pictures of stylized space battles on his walls, holdovers from his predecessor, bounced off their hangers and fell to the floor. A pitcher of water vibrated slowly off his desk and smashed on the floor. Although his center was being badly shaken, he watched the screens as the one operational gun on the small moon was coming around the planet and within minutes of being able to fire on his attackers. If he could hold out until then he might have a chance of swatting at these insects on his roof. Nonetheless, he sent nonessential personnel to the escape pods, but withheld launch authorization.

* * * * *

Tammy’s last two ships were lining up to fire their 48 missiles into the deepening crater. The first ship lined up and launched its missiles two seconds apart and the antimatter warheads threw out large chunks of rock and debris, much larger than before. She told her last ship to fire two missiles at a time two seconds apart, in attempt to speed up the process. It lined up, settled into the run to let the missiles’ gyros stabilize, and fired the first two missiles. A massive chunk of rock blew out of the hole and spun through space. The pilot concentrated on his target and fired his remaining 22 missiles two at a time.

* * * * *

G’Motta had done all he could. Systems were being knocked offline by the massive explosions. It was only a matter of time before the roof came down. He ordered all personnel to the escape pods and authorized launch. He put the system on automatic, meaning it would fire on any target in range of a gun, and walked to the nearest escape pod. He checked to ensure all personnel had evacuated and entered the pod. Several came to attention, but he waved them back down into their seats. There would be a time for formalities later, but for now it was time to leave. He sealed the hatch behind him and started the launch countdown. He took a seat and strapped himself in. The rockets kicked in and launched them into the space above G’Durin. Their automatic guidance would drop them down near the Imperial Guards Barracks.

* * * * *

Tammy orbited above her last ship firing into the crater. Ever larger boulders and shards of rock were ejected from the hole. The pilot was doing a good job of timing his missile firing to avoid detonating his missiles on the debris. It was obvious he was close to punching through and he wanted to be the one to do it for the two ships killed on the initial run.

His last two missiles left the external rails and flew into the dust cloud above the hole. That explosion threw out chunks larger, followed by a burst of atmosphere that blew all the dust from the hole and left a clear view into the facility.

Tammy recommended one more ship from the next squadron fire into the hole to finish the command and control facility for good, then ordered her ships to stand off while she got permission to return to base. The wing commander took her advice and fired two of his missiles down into the hole. He ordered the rest of the wing to fire their missiles at the nine gun emplacements, to ensure they could never be brought on line again. He congratulated Tammy on her victory as he ordered them all home. Her sense of triumph was muted by the cost of two ships and crews spent in its attainment.

* * * * *

Shadow Leader G’Motta saw the destruction of his command through the viewport in the hatch, realizing what the burst of atmosphere meant. He wondered how many warriors he lost. He supposed there would be time for that once they assembled on the ground. He had commanded for less than a day and a half, destroyed only 26 ships and damaged an equal number more. He knew it would not be enough.

He sat back in his seat while the pod burned its way into G’Durin’s atmosphere. As he looked around at the other faces, he saw fear. He hoped they did not see the same fear in his.

* * * * *

With the destruction of the lunar defense complex, Admiral Chang transported to K’Rang space through the 1st Combined Fleet’s ring ship and positioned his command ship near the center of the 1st Combined Fleet’s formation. He ordered the Marines to assault and occupy the city. Six Assault Landing Groups moved into orbit over G’Durin.

In under an hour, six divisions had been landed throughout the city. Isolated pockets of resistance formed where groups of armed K’Rang barricaded themselves in buildings overlooking key chokepoints. The disruptor rifles’ ability to make cover disappear brought much of that to an end, as snipers found themselves unexpectedly exposed to accurate counter-fire. An uneasy calm, sprinkled with infrequent bursts of gunfire, settled over the K’Rang capital. The Marines moved in and locked down the city.

The senior Marine commander, LTG David Taylor, paid a visit to the Imperial Palace. He confidently marched up to the entrance, guarded by a platoon of crimson-cloaked Imperial Guardsmen, under a flag of truce and had his interpreter ask for an audience with the heads of the K’Rang Empire. The fact that he was backed up by a heavy company from 1st of the 22nd Marines with their combat carriers and fire support vehicles helped to hurry his request along. The Elders’ plan to retire to their cavern emergency command post had been short-circuited by a delayed departure and a Marine division landing on their escape route. They chose to return to the Imperial Palace and brazen it out. The general, his interpreter, and his aide were escorted to the Elders’ audience hall and presented to the Elders.

He spoke slowly so his interpreter could keep up. “Gentlemen, I am Lieutenant General David Taylor of the Galactic Republic Marine Corps. I am in command of six divisions of Marines currently occupying your city. We plan to be here for the foreseeable future. You can save your population a great deal of discomfort if they put down their arms and submit to our occupation. Any resistance will result in the death of those taking up arms against us. We will make every effort to spare innocent civilians lives, but cannot guarantee their safety if they are hit by fire directed at those firing at us.”

“I have here a proclamation listing the restrictions we will impose on the population. They are the minimum we feel necessary to maintain order and reduce the chance of misunderstandings between our peoples.”

Elder J’Gon answered for the K’Rang, “Lieutenant General Taylor, we are a warrior race. Do you expect us to just roll over on our backs and surrender to a mere six divisions? We could have four times that number here in a week. We will not submit. You will not be able to guarantee the safety of your warriors with this act of bravado.”

LTG Daniels calmly pulled out his pistol, set it on broad beam, and made the front of their bench disappear. Unsupported by its front wall, the bench fell over forward, exposing the three Elders in their seats.

He said, “Your bravado does not interest me, either. Here are the facts. You are a conquered people. I would not put too much hope on your rescue. Your 24 divisions will never arrive. Your Grand Armada due in two days will be destroyed. Any attacks on my Marines will be met with overwhelming force. Any deaths or injuries to your population as a result of our response are on your heads, not mine. Anyone on the streets after dark will be incarcerated for the duration of our stay on your charming planet.”

On that last note, he and his interpreter did an about face and marched out of the audience chamber. He went immediately to a conference of his six division commanders and his staff to tell them not to expect a compliant populace. He instructed them to barricade themselves in and expect low-level attacks from individuals to squad size.