Exodus: Empires at War: Book 7: Counter Strike (3 page)

The strike into Fenri space is a success,
taking the heart out of their fleet and capturing several of their industrial
planets, sending the small mammalians into a frenzy.  The Fenri still have some
power in their fleet, and organize an offensive that kicks the NTE naval force
out of their space, stranding Baggett and his soldiers on the surface of one of
the planets.

The Ca’cadasan strike force makes it to Elysium
space, commandeers a Brakakak light cruiser, and takes the station in orbit
around that Empire’s capital world.  The Cacas jump through the wormhole to the
Donut
,
bringing thousands of troops and four Quarkium devices, intending to destroy
the station.  The Knockermen destroy the Brakakak station with the device that
they were given by the huge aliens.  And Walborski, heading through the
Donut
on a short leave to see his wife and children, finds himself involved in
another battle.

Sean lures the Ca’cadasan main fleet into
battle, springing his ambush, and ravaging the enemy fleet.  They turn into a
tougher opponent that he planned on, and some of the enemy fleet escapes to
head back to their base, leaving the Imperial fleet with a lesser victory than
wanted, and higher casualties than expected.

Prologue

SECTOR VII SPACE. 
NOVEMBER 20
^TH
,1001.

The pirates must have thought they were
undetectable, their base built on one of the moons of a Saturnesk gas giant in
orbit around an ember of a red star.  The small star was twenty light years
from the nearest inhabited system, off the travelled space lanes, while giving
the pirates a base close enough to some of the major transit lanes of Sector
VII.  Yes, they felt secure, their small fleet faring out from the base to
strike shipping, taking vessels and slaves, and much wealth in materials and
machinery, then returning to their undetectable base.  Selling the slaves and
wealth to merchants of a shady nature.  But though the system was undetectable,
its activity hidden by distance, the corsairs that fared out were not, and
eventually something was bound to happen.

Captain Stella English looked at the viewer
that showed the small system ahead, hoping that the information that had been
extracted from the captured pirates was accurate.  But then, a score of them
had given the same information, every one of the crew that had known the exact
coordinates of the system. 
Amazing what chemicals and nanoprobes can gather
,
she thought, a slight smile on her lips.  She had no sympathy for the scum who
preyed on the weak and innocent.  Whatever pain or suffering they had to endure
was just fine with the commander of Task Force 481, her current command.

Her flagship, HIMS
Lancanshire,
was
lurking in normal space, moving toward the system at point five light.  She and
the rest of the force had translated into normal space outside of the detection
range of most vessels, it being hoped that the ramshackle fleet of the pirates
would not be equipped with the most advanced of sensors.  None of her eight
vessels were equipped with a wormhole, and it had been decided to run in with
communications locked, even the new sublight com system.

The eight hundred thousand ton light cruiser
was the most combat capable vessel in the force.  Three of her other ships were
two hundred thousand ton destroyers, while the remaining four were one hundred
thousand ton frigates.  She had asked for another cruiser, or at least a couple
more destroyers, but this had been all that was available.  And besides, they
were just pirates, no matter what the captives said about the corsair force.

“We’ll be entering planned firing range in ten
minutes, ma’am,” said her Tactical Officer.

“Thank you, Mr. Banks,” she told the officer,
nodding her head his direction. 
I wish we could capture them, and bring
them to trial
, she thought.  There was something much more satisfying about
seeing them sentenced to life imprisonment, or possible death, in a court of
law.  Something that could be publicized, and maybe act as a deterrent to other
potential scum. 
Sure, Stella, and maybe we’ll get the Easter Bunny to start
making the rounds again
, she thought with a snort.

Basically, there were too many of them to try
for any kind of closing and capturing strategy.  She counted eleven frigate and
destroyer class vessels in orbit around the moon, as well as several intact
freighters that had to be recent prizes.  And one ship that had truly surprised
her. 
Just how in the holy hells did they get an old battle cruiser.  I
wouldn’t think they would have the manpower to take such a thing on a combat
patrol.

But that was the one reason she was not going
to risk her command trying to capture the pirates.  At close range a ship like
that, an ancient
Majestic
class BC of about five million tons, could
take out her whole command in a close in beam fight.  Beam weapon technology
hadn’t changed that much in the past hundred years, though targeting and
defensive tech had, as had the power of said beams.  Still, a five million ton
platform was capable of truly impressive close in fire.  While missile tech had
increased by leaps and bounds, and she had a clear advantage in that area.

“We have an approaching ship in hyper,” called
out Banks, looking back from his board.  “In the ten million ton range.”

“What in the hell do we have calling now?”
asked the Helmsmen.

“Hold up on the fire plan for a moment,” ordered
the Captain, visions of an old battleship entering her mind.  “Let’s see what
we have first off.”

A half an hour later the ship appeared from out
of hyper, less than a light minute away from the human task force.

“That looks like a Vergasa freighter,” said
Banks, and Stella grunted in acknowledgement.

What in the hell would they be doing here?
she thought.  Vergasa
was a minor power in the region, a kingdom of no more than a hundred inhabited
systems.  They engaged in legitimate trade with the Empire, as well as some
more shady operations. 
Like trading with pirates
, she thought, studying
the ship in the viewer. 
They have to have a buyer for their ill-gotten
gains.  Why not Vergasa?

“Signal the other ships that we will open fire
on the pirates in one minute,” she ordered her Com Officer.  All of the vessels
were within twenty light seconds of each other, less than two seconds by
subspace com.  She thought it was unlikely that the Vergasa ship would have a
subspace com, and couldn’t alert the pirates anyway.

“Fire,” she ordered, and
Lancanshire
bucked
slightly as her tubes accelerated a spread of missiles at the target.  She
started swinging from side to side, bringing her port tubes, then her forward
accelerators, then her starboard tubes, to bear.  In half a minute she had sent
a spread of a hundred missiles toward the pirate base, accelerating at five
thousand gravities.  The other ships released half of their own magazines,
adding over two hundred more missiles to the swarm.  It would take three hours
for the missiles, already traveling at point two five light from the velocity
of the launching vessels, to reach the enemy base.  They would reach their
maximum safe velocity of point nine five light an hour and a half into flight,
and would strike the enemy it the most advantageous attack profile.

“Order
Maes
and
Grimm
to take
that freighter and board her,” ordered the Captain, looking at the side holo
that showed the commercial vessel, which as yet hadn’t reacted to the presence
of the human ships nearby.

“Captain of the
Grimm
is asking the
rules of engagement,” said the Com Officer.

“He can’t destroy her,” said English.  “But he
is ordered to disable her if she resists.”

“We have graviton emissions from the pirate
base,” said Banks.  “Three ships are starting to boost.”

The roaches reacting to the light
, thought the Captain
with a slight smile.

Over the next hour the rest of the pirate
vessels got under way, as their crews transferred from the moon to them.  She
hoped the enemy ships would come for her, hastening the missile attack.  She
should have known better.  They scattered, trying to escape.  But there was no
escape, as the missiles had been targeted on their individual vessels in case
they tried such a tactic.

“They would have done better if they had stayed
together,” said Banks, as the vector arrows on the plot showed the enemy ships
all on separate courses.

“They aren’t military vessels,” said English,
watching as her missiles started tracking the individual ships.

A little over three hours later the missiles
started to make contact with ships that were still trying to build up their
velocity.  There was no way they could outrun the missiles.  The pirate vessels
started to fall off the plot as their primitive missile defense systems tried
to deal with modern weapons, and failed.  They got some of them, but never
enough.  The only exception was the battle cruiser, which, though battered by
near misses, was a survivor.

“We’re receiving a transmission from
Grimm,
ma’am,”
said the Com Officer, and Stella motioned for her to put it on the screen.

“We’ve boarded the freighter, ma’am,” said the
Captain of the DD
Grimm
, looking out of the com holo.  “My Marine
commander is reporting that it’s, sickening aboard.  Lots of human equipment. 
And, they tried to get rid of the human prisoners they had, with, particle
beams.”

English felt her stomach turn as she thought of
the terror that must have been the last feelings of those people as the Vergasa
started vaporizing them with beam weapons.  Unfortunately for them, that was
not the way to get rid of all evidence.  There was almost always a residue.

“Clap the bastards in irons, Captain,” she told
the other officer.  “We’ll let a Naval Magistrate decide their fate.  Were
there any survivors?”

“No, ma’am,” said the Commander who was the
captain of that destroyer.  “Not a one.”

“What do you want us to do about the big
bastard?” asked Banks, pointing to the icon of the battle cruiser that was
coasting in space with no acceleration.  “Capture him?”

“No,” said Stella, her nausea over the death of
prisoners turning into rage.  “I’m not risking any of my ships getting close to
that thing.  Light him up with another spread.”

She looked over at her Helmsman.  “Put us on a
course toward that base.  We’ll let our Marines search it, and I hope to God
for their sake that the bastards haven’t committed more atrocities on the
base.”

Hours later she knew that was a forlorn hope. 
All of the pirates had evacuated, and so were dead aboard the remains of their
ships.  While the dead slaves lay all over the base, where the pirates had left
them, not even bothering to try and dispose of the bodies.

Chapter
One

There
is no avoiding war; it can only be postponed to the advantage of others.  
Niccolo Machiavelli

THE
DONUT.
 
NOVEMBER 21
^ST
, 1001.

“Did we really have to bring along so much of
this shit?” asked Petty Officer First
Satrusalya, holding one end of the large container by a handle.  “This
stuff gives me the shakes.”

Cornelius looked
at the man, who was larger that he was.  Being an augmented Naval Commando,
using the same process the Ranger had undergone, that meant he was stronger,
and just a bit slower due to his mass.

“I don’t really
like it either,” said the Cadet Lieutenant, eying the tube that was a magnetic
containment device filled with one of the deadliest known substances, negative
matter.  Only antimatter was more feared.  Negative matter canceled out itself
and normal matter on contact.  Once out of its containment there was nothing
that was proof against it.  The only positive thing about the negative matter
was that it could only cancel out the same mass.  “But I like the idea of a
hundred gigaton or larger bomb going off near me even less, and this stuff may
be the only thing that will cancel it out before it kills us.”

They were moving
quietly along the wall that separated the corridor from the kilometer thick
supercable that was one of the supports the aliens had to sever to destroy the
station.  Five Rangers and the other Naval Commando were in the lead, crouched
low, weapons ready.  Cornelius walked just ahead of the two men carrying the
container, while the last Ranger took up the rear, thirty meters behind and his
watch covering that direction.

All of the men
were veterans, and Cornelius trusted them to do their jobs competently. 
Cornelius had been in special ops for a far shorter time than most of the men,
and was not yet a commissioned officer.  The double award of the Imperial Medal
of Heroism made him a trusted leader, however, someone these tough warriors were
in awe of.

The Commando in
the front, Petty Officer First Khrushchev, the leader of that element due to
his experience operating aboard spaceships, held his hand up and knelt down,
waving the officer trainee forward.  Cornelius ran to him, making no sound, and
came to a kneel beside him.  He didn’t even have to ask the man what was going
on.  His hypersensitive ears picked up the sound of fighting, both directly
ahead and to the left down another corridor. 
The Marines must be to the
front, and Chung and his people to the left
, he thought.  The Marines, in
heavy combat armor, would be trying to blast their way through the Cacas
arrayed to protect the bomb.  The IIA Agents were a decoy force, hitting the
Cacas down another angle of approach, trying to draw the enemy away from this
one.

“We’re getting
close,” he whispered to the Commando, who nodded back.  They were avoiding com
link for the moment, thinking that the enemy might pick it up so close to their
lines.  Rangers and Commandos were trained to operate without electronics.  At
this time they were carrying more powerful weapons than they usually did, and
two of the men had the backpacks of laser cutters on their backs, just in case.

“I hope they
don’t set the damned thing off before we get to it,” said Sergeant Pasco, one
of the Rangers.

“I wonder why
they haven’t already?” asked Specialist Owusu, his eyes scanning the corridor
ahead.

“They want to
set them all off at the same time,” said Cornelius.  “Not give us a chance to
make repairs before they sever another cable.”

He listened for
a second more, then waved his hand to get everyone moving.  They hadn’t gone
more than fifty meters before Khrushchev was again raising his hand and
stopping the formation.

“They’re right
ahead,” said the Petty Officer, gesturing with his rifle down the corridor.

Cornelius
listened carefully, the movement of the armored Cacas sounding from ahead. 
We
need to get through them quickly.  Then hit the Cacas that are facing the
Marines from behind. 
He was starting to wave the other men forward when a
particle beam came ripping down the corridor and struck Khrushchev in the
chest.

*      *      *

The General was in communication with both of
his forces that had gone after the lower side cables of the station.  The com
was going in and out, even though he had men stationed along the way to relay
the signal.  The enemy jamming was getting more powerful, and he was afraid
they might also be listening in.

And what in the hell is keeping those dolts
from getting to their target?
he thought, following one of his groups on a
tactical holo.   The other battalion, almost four hundred males, was already in
position, their weapon ready to take out that support.  But the battalion he
was watching had run into opposition, and were having to fight their way
through.  They were still over ten kilometers from their target.  That might be
close enough to take out the cable, but probably not.

The other bombs were set four kilometers to
either side of the central cable, close enough for the dual explosion to take
it out, and also destroy much of the lower hull of the station, weakening it
further.

They only have another hour and a half to get
to the target
,
he thought, feeling the stress of the situation, almost overwhelming anxiety
that his mission might fail. 
We can’t allow it to fail
, he thought,
linking into the com and sending reinforcements to the bogged down unit.  That
meant weakening the defense of the port central side bomb, but it was more
important to get that peripheral weapon to its target. 
If only I had those
other males,
he thought.  But the Knockermen had set off their bomb on the
Elysium station before he had gotten all his troops off.  Those males would
have died anyway if they had gotten to the human station.  But they would have
died for a purpose.

“The humans are increasing their pressure,”
said the commander of the troubled battalion.  “They are attacking with
increased ferocity, no matter the loss.”

Of course they are.  Because they know if we
destroy this station, they have lost their war. 
“I am sending you
reinforcements, Battalion Commander.  Keep pushing forward.  You must get that
weapon to its target.”

I wonder if we could have sent the warriors
through space to the target
, thought the General, second guessing his own orders. 
Then he thought about what would have happened if he had sent hundreds of males
and the weapon through space, where the enemy would have been able to attack
them with ship borne weapons.  He would have lost the attack force, and the
weapon.

“We’re pushing ahead,” said the officer.  “But
I can’t guarantee we’ll get there before the weapon goes off.”

The General growled, recognizing a plea to stop
the countdown.  He wouldn’t respond.  The Commander had his orders, and would
follow them to his death.  Stopping the countdown meant that the other weapons
were at greater risk.  And he wasn’t about to take that risk.

He followed the progress on the com, sweating
out the lack of progress as the armored males fought armored humans.  The
humans were skilled warriors with powerful weapons, and the progress started to
bog down, while the reinforcements also ran into an enemy that was determined
to keep them from linking up with their comrades.

Minutes ticked by, and the icons of his troops
continued to fall off the plot, while the humans icons, representing the
soldiers that were engaged with his males, continued to increase.  It was
looking like a losing battle on that front. 
It could still work
, he
thought, his denial that this mission was a failure kicking in. 
It has to
work.

“We’re starting to lose our perimeter,” came
the call of the Regimental Commander who was holding one of the bombs. 
The
one I took the warriors away from
, he thought.  He had robbed the
successful force to reinforce one that was already a failure.

The General looked at the manual detonator,
determined that all the bombs would go off before the humans got to them.  He
reached for the arming switch, then pulled his hand back. 
The bombs are
fused so they will go off if they are tampered with.  There is nothing they can
do to them.
  He pushed the cover back over the remote detonation switch,
and left it in the hands of the Gods.

*    
*     *

“We’ve got one of the bombs, Dr. Yu,” said the
Marine Colonel that was leading the force that had stopped the port side Caca
battalion from getting their bomb to the support cable that was their target.

Yu looked over the holo at the bomb behind the
Colonel, taking in the structure of the device.  Superficially, it looked much
like the devices she had seen in Admiral Chrone’s presentation.  She pulled up
the schematic of those devices, and compared them to the bomb that was now in
the center of the holo.

“You need to spray the center of the device,
Colonel, making sure to hit the control box on top and through to the center,
where the quarkium device is actually located.”

“What about the ends of the device?”

“Do not allow any of the negative matter to
come in contact with anything past thirty centimeters of the centerline.  The
ends are antimatter weapons used to set off the quarkium reaction, which sets
off the subquark detonation.”

“How much antimatter?”

“Up to a kilogram at each end.  About eighty
megatons if it breaches containment.”

“I guess I need to evacuate everyone but the
engineers and myself.”

“You don’t have time for that, Colonel,” said
Lucille, concerned about her station and its safety more than a battalion’s
worth of men. 
Which is awful,
she thought. 
But if that bomb goes
off as a subquarkian device, it will kill many more. 
“Take the tank and
spray that device, in the manner I told you.”

The officer stared back at her for a moment,
and she afraid he was going to order an evacuation anyway, wasting precious
time.  “Colonel, if I were there I would spray the device, without hesitation. 
Unfortunately, I am not there, because they needed someone who could talk to
several attack groups at one time.   But believe me, we don’t have the time.”

“Right,” said the Colonel, turning to his
engineers and grasping one of the spray devices himself.  He spoke to the
engineering sergeant who was holding the other device, and they both aimed at
the center part of the device.   “On the count of three.  One.  Two.  Three.”

Both men pulled the triggers on the sprayers
and sent streams from the nozzles that funneled the negative matter through
magnetic fields to the outside world.  The streams shot out, under high
pressure as the magnetic field in the tank squeezed.  It only took a couple of
seconds to send out kilograms of negative matter.  It hit the normal matter of the
device and cancelled both out.  The center of the bomb disappeared up to twenty
centimeters into the case, including the entire control mechanism.  The men
sprayed again, destroying more of the bomb.  A third spray ate over halfway
through the bomb, negating much of the material and sending metal vapor into
the air as much of the rest of the matter broke up under the assault.

“I think that should do it, Colonel,” said Yu.

“I’m on the spot, Ma’am, and I would prefer to
be safe,” said the officer.  He and the other man sprayed again, and once
again, until there was no more negative matter in the tank.

That was a waste
, thought the Director,
looking at the bomb that was more or less gone through its center. 
We could
have used that material for wormholes.  But I can’t say I blame the men on the
spot.  Now we just need to get those other three bombs, and we’re good.

*    
*     *

The force that hit the bomb where the troops
had been pulled from the perimeter struck on five axes, from three sides on the
level of the bomb, as well as from above and below.  It would have taken a
division to hold all the approaches, and the above and below routes were
covered by mere platoons, not enough to seal off all avenues, especially when
the assault was launched in force down all avenues at once.

The outer perimeters of the Cacas were still
fighting the Marines coming at them on their level, while the assault force of
Naval Commandos came from above and took the bomb in seconds of intense
fighting.  They duplicated the techniques of the Marines who had disposed of
the first bomb, and then there were two.

*    
*     *

The beam converted the torso of Khrushchev to
red tinted vapor, while his head and shoulders, arms still attached, fell to
the floor.  The legs tottered for a second before they joined his staring head
on the floor.  The beam continued on in a sweep that the other men ducked
under, then flew down the hall to hit the canister of negative matter being
carried up the corridor.  The beam sliced into the tank and released the
compressed gas.