Exodus: Empires at War: Book 8: Soldiers (Exodus: Empires at War.) (9 page)

“We must stop
them,” hissed the Supreme Emperor, standing up from his throne and pacing back
and forth.  “We must.  We must have a victory.”

“I can give you
a victory, your Majesty,” said the Supreme Fleet Leader.  “If I am allowed
to uncover some other potential targets, and concentrate on one, I should be
able to defeat one human force.  I know it will mean giving up some other
systems without a fight, but we will lose them anyway with our current strategy
of trying to defend everything.”

“What do you
wish to give up?” asked the Supreme Emperor, plopping back in his seat. 
“And where will you stand?”

“Where I would
suggest we make a stand is here,” said the Supreme Fleet Leader, pulling up a
holo of the central region of the Fenri Empire, where one system was
blinking.  “We can crush their force between several of ours, not allowing
any to escape.  And though we might lose heavily as well, if we can
completely destroy that force, I believe we can slow the humans, make them
think before they commit again.”

“And we lose
these three systems here,” pointed the Supreme Emperor, dawning understanding
on his face.  “And you swing our combined fleet into each one in
succession, defeating them in detail.”

“Truly, your
Majesty,” said the Supreme Fleet Leader, showing his sharp predator’s teeth in
a grin.  “And if we can isolate a large force of their troops on each of
the planets’ surfaces, we can also bring defeat to them.”

The Supreme
Emperor stared at the holo for a few moments more, making up his mind, while
his cousin wondered if he had thought up a strategy that would sway the ruler
enough to keep his head on his shoulders.  Finally the Supreme Emperor
looked up at him with a smile.

“Is the
Ca’cadasan task force still in the system?”

“Yes, your
Majesty.  I do believe they are.”

The Supreme
Fleet Leader thought of those supposedly allied ships that had done nothing for
their allies, so far.  There were eight of the twenty-five million ton
superbattleships, the same number of four million ton supercruisers, and
sixteen of the five hundred thousand ton scout ships.  A force that could
add quite a punch to the Fenri fleet if they were allowed to deploy.

“Then I want the
Ca’cadasan Ambassador in my audience chamber within the hour,” said the Supreme
Emperor in an imperious voice.  “If they can’t at least do this for us, I
will tell them that I will switch over to the human side.”

“Will you really
do so, your Majesty?” asked the Supreme Fleet Leader, not really wanting a yes
that would put them on the side of the people that had been killing his fleet
to date, but sure that the Emperor would do exactly as he threatened if the
Ca’cadasans didn’t actually start living up to their treaty.

“I will do
anything to win, to preserve my dynasty,” said the Supreme Emperor, flashing
the smile his people normally gave just before a kill.  “And if they are
not the one I need to survive, the humans will do.”

The Supreme
Fleet Leader stayed silent.  He suspected that the humans would not be so
eager to make a deal this time.  After all, they held the upper hand, and
their young Emperor seemed the sort who would go for the jugular, if it got him
a permanent solution.  And the only permanent solution the Supreme Fleet
Leader could see that the humans might attempt was the total conquest of the
Fenri, and the absorption of the Empire into their own.

*    
*     *

“What have you
got for me?” asked Sean as he fell into the seat at the head of the conference
room table.  This meeting was far below the Hexagon, the headquarters
building of the Combined Chiefs of Staff and their staffs in the capital city of
Capitulum.  Sean felt as exhausted as he had in a long time, attending
constant meetings, Parliament, Cabinet and Military.  It seemed like he
never got enough sleep, and even his strong young body was beginning to rebel.

“First Fleet is
continuing its infiltration into New Moscow space, your Majesty,” said Grand
High Admiral Sondra McCullom, as a holo sprung to life over the table showing
that sector of space.  “Ostensibly, all ships are moving to recon systems
in preparations for our planned offensive four months hence.  In reality,
all will be in position and powered down within the week, and Battle Fleet will
begin its deployment.”

 “And the
main forces current location?”

“Sitting in
interstellar space about twenty light years outside of the borders of the
kingdom.”

“And Operation
Ground Warp?”

“On Schedule,”
said the Chief of Naval Operations.  “Wormholes have been dropped in every
major system and maneuvered into position.  The second wave will be
starting in tomorrow, and will be in their deployment positions by week’s end.”

“And your end,
Mishori?  Betty?”

The Chief of
Staff of the Army looked over at the Commandant of the Marine Corps for a
moment and caught her nod.  This was their part of the game, the ground
action, and though there would be numerous Naval Commandos assigned as well,
the bulk of the forces would be theirs.

“We already have
one recon company on the ground,” said Mishori.  “Army Rangers, the C
Company, Third of the Three Eightieth Rangers, as well as two platoons of
Marine Force Recon.  They are scouting the periphery, looking for possible
shelter sights.  Another Ranger company and a platoon of Naval Commandos
will follow.”

The holo
converted to a view of the planet, the wormholes that were already down
blinking.

“Those other
recon unit will be infiltrating by wormhole in two days,” said the Army Chief
of Staff.  “Nine Ninetieth Platoon of Naval Commandos, and A Company,
First of the Three Eightieth Rangers.  We raised this unit from volunteers
who all specialized in covert movement and reconnaissance.  Once they’re
on the planet, they’ll start getting the lay of the land from the ground, and
will transfer to suits for the assault, like the other Ranger units.”

“Who’s in charge
of the company?”

“Someone of your
acquaintance, your Majesty,” said the Grand Marshal.  “The Captain Baron
Cornelius Walborski.”

“The boy sure is
getting around,” said Sean with a frown.  “I think we may be pushing his
luck a little too far.  After all, two impossible missions in a row might
be a little much for any soldier.”

“He is a
soldier,” said the Grand Marshal, nodding to the holo that now showed the
portrait and record of Walborski, one of the few double Imperial Medal of
Heroism recipients in the history of the Empire.  “He knows his duty to
the Empire, and is not afraid to put his life on the line.  I see great
things for him in the future, if he doesn’t get himself vaporized before then.”

“That’s my fear
too,” said Sean, shaking his head.  “I see him rising to general some day,
if he doesn’t get in the way of a particle beam before then.”

“You could order
him off the mission, your Majesty,” said Mishori, nodding to the holo. 
“That's your prerogative.”

“It’s not
something I’m willing to do at this late stage,” replied Sean, shaking his
head.  “It would disrupt the command structure of that company. 
Besides, I can’t be seen playing favorites, even if Walborski is one.”

“Understood,”
said the Grand Marshal.  “And appreciated.”

“I don’t want us
deviating from the timetable for any reason,” said Sean, looking away from the
holo and around the table.  “If something isn’t in place, we’ll just have
to go without it.”

“And if the
Cacas have something in place we didn’t expect?” asked McCollum.

“Then we still
go.  Those people on those planets don’t have unlimited time, and I’m not
about to take any more away from them.  Understood?”

There were nods
around the table, and though Sean could see that most were not happy with that
decision, it was his to make, and he had now made it formally.  All he
could hope for was that ninety percent of the plan worked, and that they got
most of the New Muscovites out of captivity before they were turned into food.

*    
*     *

NEW MOSCOW SPACE, MARCH 27
^TH
,
1002.

“Separating
ship, now,” called out the Helmsman, taking a glance back at his captain before
hitting the panel that released the ship from the docking clamps.  With a
shudder through the hull as the Stealth/Attack ship
Seastag’s
just
under  two hundred thousand ton form dropped away from the eight million
ton hyper VI battle cruiser that had carried her this far.

“We’re moving
away at ten gravities, Captain,” Commodore Bryce Suttler reported to the
commander of the ship that had ferried him and three of the other eight vessels
of his squadron into this space.  The other four ships were being released
by yet another battle cruiser, this one about a light hour to the side, at the
same distance from the New Moscow primary as his group.

“Acknowledged,
Commodore Suttler,” came the voice over the tight beam com.  “And good
luck.”

Suttler shut
down his feed into the com and concentrated on what lay ahead.  New Moscow
was teeming with shipping, none of it friendly, or at least none that was
displayed on the tactical holo.  The Commodore looked over at his Tactical
Officer, Lt. JG Simona Castro, making sure she was keeping a close watch on
their surroundings.  His last TO had been with him since the commissioning
of the ship, and had been kicked upstairs with a promotion to another
Stealth/Attack vessel.  With the war there was a lot of that going on,
both because of the many new hulls coming online, and the losses.

After looking
over the tactical holo for a few moments, Suttler decided to go with their
initial plan, which meant he would not have to send any signals to the rest of
his vessels.  They were already on a course into the system at point zero
one two light.  In two days, with minimal deceleration, they would be in
place, and each ship would drop off the pair of wormholes they carried, which
would be sent onto the planet’s surface to join those already dropped by the
smaller Stealth/Scout ships.

And then they
would set up for the primary mission, if everything went as expected and they
weren’t detected.  If one of his ships was detected they would still go
for that mission, but the difficulty level would increase exponentially.

Chapter Seven

Innocence is thought charming
because it offers delightful possibilities for exploitation.

Mason Cooley.

SECTOR IV HEADQUARTERS, MAR 28
^TH
,
1002.

“How’s the
prisoner doing this fine day?” asked Commodore Mary Innocent, Sean’s personal
intelligence officer, of the head of the Marine guard detail at the entrance to
the Cacada quarters.

“He’s doing
fine, ma’am,” answered the Lieutenant, the expression his face warring with his
professionalism.

Innocent knew
how he felt.  She herself had lost family to the Cacas.  The majority
of citizens in the Empire had, even if they were distant.  Almost everyone
in the military had also lost friends, classmates.  They had many reasons
to hate the big aliens, and it had to gall the Marines to watch the alien
prisoners living in luxury.

“I need to see
the Great Admiral,” she said, looking at the high security door.

“Yes, ma’am,”
said the Marine, closing his eyes for a moment, linking with the security
center and sending the request through.

Innocent had the
highest clearance possible, and she had no doubt her request would be
fulfilled.  There was always the chance that someone else was already
talking with the Great Admiral, and that she might have to wait.  But a
moment later the officer opened his eyes and looked at her, nodding once.

“You’re cleared
to go in, ma’am.  A Marine guard detail will accompany you for your
safety.”

“Thank you,” she
replied, waiting for the door to open.

The meter thick
portal slid open, revealing a long corridor and a pair of Marines in battle
armor.  Both were armed with holstered particle beam pistols, the holsters
specifically coded to each Marine so only they could draw them.  Both also
held large sonic stun rifles specifically made to bring down the big
carnivores.

They walked down
the long corridor, over a hundred meters into the body of the huge station that
was a rear base of Sector IV.  It ended at another thick door, which
opened once the Commodore and her guards were in front of it.  Innocent
could almost feel the eyes on them, the security scan of the long hall,
ensuring that nothing happened to the prisoners housed here, or that those
beings didn’t get away.  There were many more of them now scattered across
the Empire, many in accommodations that were not so welcoming as the ones she
was walking toward.

Walking through
the door, she found herself entering a large room, this with a security desk in
the exact center, another Marine Lieutenant sitting alongside a Gunnery
Sergeant.  Two more battle suited Marines stood against the walls with
stun rifles in hand.

“The Great
Admiral has been informed of your coming, ma’am,” stated the officer, pointing
at one of the doors.  “You can go in, but please be careful.”

Innocent smiled
at the other woman and headed for the door, while one of the guards in the room
moved over to a box by the portal and stuck a large key into a hole.  He
turned the key and the door slid open, the second guard covering the opening
with his stun rifle, while her two assigned Marines took up positions by
her.  The guard by the door nodded, and one of Innocent’s men, a Sergeant,
went forward ahead of her.

The room beyond
had been built to specifications to house a high ranking Cacada.  The ceilings
were high, six meters, beyond the reach of even a jumping Cacada, protecting
the sensing and defensive devices from any possible manipulation.  The
room itself was ten meters on a side, with pieces of furniture that looked much
too large.  The colors clashed to her human eyes, and there were strange
odors in the air.  The Great Admiral, Miierrowanasa M’tinisasitow, sat on
a throne like chair against one of the walls, dressed in the uniform of a
Ca’cadasan noble.  He eschewed the uniform of his rank, and had none of
the men around him that would normally serve as his staff and guards.

He betrayed
his own people by surrendering
, thought the Intelligence Officer, looking
at the big male who had a defeated look about him.  Ca’cadasans didn’t surrender. 
They had a long history of fighting to the death, no matter what.  And
this male had been in charge of the only large Ca’cadasan force that had ever
surrendered to an enemy.  True, he hadn’t actually issued the order. 
He had been knocked unconscious at the time, and his next in command had issued
the orders.  But the Great Admiral had been the male in charge, so the
responsibility ultimately was his.

The Great
Admiral was still an impressive specimen, his wrinkled snout full of sharp
teeth, his reddish fur covering a muscular torso from which the four arms
sprung.  Horns reached a half meter above his head, giving the being the
look of the demonic.  He stood up as he saw the humans, towering his full
three meters.  The two and a half meter tall females that were there to
serve him looked small in comparison, and they crouched down in anxiety at the
presence of the humans.

At least the
females are too stupid to blame him for the defeat
, she thought, looking
over at one of the semi-intelligent beings.  All had the dull eyes of
merely intelligent mammals, with less muscularity than the males, and the
characteristic three sets of breasts showing that they were mammalian, or at
least as close as a totally alien evolutionary tree could come to.

“Please sit,
Great Admiral,” she suggested as she stepped forward.

A flash of anger
appeared in the Ca’cadasan’s eyes.  Though politely phrased, he recognized
an order, and his kind still thought themselves the superior to every other
sentient species in space.  Part of that had to do with their
longevity.  This male had lived over fourteen hundred years of a greater
than two thousand year life span.  That lifespan, and its slow metabolism,
was actually the thing that made them inferior to species like humans when it
came to speed of thinking.  Their brains were built for planning over long
periods of time, and not for coming up with solutions on the spot.

The Caca sat
back in his chair, and the two Marines lowered the barrels of their rifles a
bit.  There were still four females standing near the throne, and though
they had never been seen to be aggressive, and according to the males were not
unless they were defending their children, the Marines were taking no
chances.  Looking at the females, who outmassed her by more than double,
Innocent was glad that they were being cautious.

“And what can I
do for you today, Commodore?” asked the Great Admiral in an ironic tone.

“We’re getting
ready to move on the Kingdom of New Moscow,” she said, matter of fact.  “I
was wondering if you might have some advice for us?”

“Don’t depend on
my people to surrender again,” said the Great Admiral, showing his teeth in a
very predatory grin.  “Whoever is in charge there would have already
received orders from above making it clear that surrender is not an option.”

“You think they
will fight and die, then?”

“Oh, no. 
Since I am sure that you will outnumber our force so as to make victory
impossible, I have no doubt they will retreat when it becomes apparent that
they can’t win.  If you leave an opening for them to escape through, they
will use it.  If not, they will stand and die, and take as many of you
with them as they can.”

“And what of the
humans still alive in the Kingdom?”

“If you hope to
rescue them, I would give up that hope,” said the Great Admiral, again showing
his teeth.  “The commander there would see his captives as resources, and
will not be willing to give those resources back to you.  They will leave
the dead behind, those they are not able to take with them for further processing.”

Innocent stared
at the male for a moment, almost wishing she could order her guards to kill
him.  They would not obey that order, of course, since they already had
orders from a higher authority to keep this Caca alive.

“You really
don’t care about the harm you cause, do you?” she finally asked, glaring into
the eyes of the Great Admiral.  “You’ve just rampaged across the Galaxy,
smashing whole civilizations along the way.  Killing the birthplace of
humanity.”

“Of course we care,”
said the Great Admiral, an expression Innocent had come to consider pained
crossing his face.  “We gather the other intelligent species into the
embrace of our Empire for their own good.  Without us, they would either
destroy themselves as they reach their nuclear stage, or they would go out and
conquer other species, just as yours have.”

“And we work
with the species under us,” she argued back, planting her hands on her
hips.  “And have organized the greatest alliance this arm, full of
intelligent species, has ever seen.  We are not conquerors, like you
are.  And we will prevail.”

“Our Emperor has
said otherwise, and the entire resources of the Empire will be mobilized to
crush you.”

“And our Emperor
has decreed that we will crush you,” she said, letting a smile cross her face
for a moment.  “I guess we will just have to see which one of us
prevails.”

She turned to
walked away, then turned back for a moment.  “You know, we sent a mission
to locate the other power you are fighting with.  We are weeks away from
that contact, and once we do, our wormholes will allow us to aid them, and to
take aid from them.  At that point, you will face an organized two front
war.  Think about that.”

She could see
from his expression that she had hit home.  Regardless of the little she
had gotten from him, she decided that that expression was enough of a victory
for the day.

*    
*     *

KINGDOM OF NEW MOSCOW SPACE,
MARCH 29
^TH
, 1002.

“That looks like
their last ship, sir,” said Lieutenant SG Lasardo, the tactical officer of the
hyper VII destroyer
James Komorov
, and a man the Captain trusted
implicitly.

Captain the Duke
Maurice von Rittersdorf acknowledged as he stared at the plot.  The ship
coming out of the system, currently on a deceleration profile that was consistent
with a jump to hyper just beyond the limit, was a supercruiser, four million
tons of Caca warship.  The big boys, escorting the troop transports, had
left normal space hours before, and would be of no help to this one. 
Still, it out massed his eight destroyer squadron by more than double. 
His orders were to observe, and avoid action if possible.  With one
caveat.  He was also ordered to inflict damage to enemy units in
situations that didn’t compromise his primary mission.

His ships were
all dead in space, powered down as much as possible, matter-antimatter reactors
cold, electromag shields inactive.  The ships were well insulated, and the
heat inside was almost unbearable, despite the superconducting cooling system
shunting heat to the unoccupied portions of the ship, and all crew suited up
with battle armor environmental systems online.  It was difficult to hide
in space without special effort, and the mission called for that kind of
effort.

His ship and one
other, the
Gregor Stoyanovich
, were the exceptions, as they had
multipurpose wormholes, mostly used for communications, but also serving double
duty to whisk away much of the heat.  Some would say it was unfair to the
other vessels, but von Rittersdorf was not about to let the entire crews of two
vessels swelter when there were ways around it.

“Com. 
Tight beams to other ships.  I want to take this bastard when he comes
within closest approach on our missiles.”  He looked back over at
Lasardo.  “You got that, Guns?”

“Aye, sir. 
Running simulations now.”

The primary
mission had been to observe this system at the far center of New Moscow space,
to see what the Cacas were up to in a system they had seemed so heavily
invested in.  And now they had pulled out all of their ships, packed up
everything they could take along, and destroyed everything they couldn’t. 
The Captain looked at another holo that showed a view of the night side of the
habitable planet, once the home of a billion and a half people, now totally
dark.

“Firing solution
plotted,” called out Lasardo.  “Optimal range in eighteen minutes.”

“Send that info
to all ships, then get me the Duchess on the wormhole.”

Moments later
the face of Rear Admiral Mei Lei, the commander of this task group of Scout
Force Battle Fleet, was looking out at him.

“It looks like
they’re taking off, ma’am,” said von Rittersdorf, giving the holo image a
slight bow.  “We’re tracking the last ship and getting ready to light her
up before she makes hyper.  If we’re lucky we might be able to get some
prisoners.”

“That is good
news, Maurice.  I trust that you will not put your command at undue risk
in the process, but more information is always good.”

Both knew that
was part of the job, taking risks.  Sometimes von Rittersdorf thought he
had taken the wrong track by going into the Scout Force.  But, then again,
screening battleships during fleet actions, when missiles were flying, and the
primary mission was keeping the capital ships alive at all costs, was not the
safest of tasks.  His current job was to gather information, and the Fleet
had a tradition of fighting for that intelligence.

“I’ll make sure
we come back,” he said, thinking that he would indeed make sure most of his
squadron returned from this mission, if it was within his power.

The Captain
watched as the timer counted down, anxious that the sensors of the enemy not
pick them up.  If they did, his destroyers were still committed.  But
the enemy would be able to get in some more shots as well.  At close range
missiles were not as effective as at longer distances, and he did not want to
get into a beam fight with this target.  He would probably still win, just
because he presented more targets for the enemy to engage.  Each of his
targets, however, could take much less beam energy before systems started to
fail.