Koban 4: Shattered Worlds (12 page)

For some reason, the much higher performing humans who conducted raids on Krall clan worlds were not used on these ships. The ship-to-ship fights would be more even if those stronger, faster reacting humans were the operators. The Krall edge then would be due more to the superior Olt’kitapi redundant design of the clanships, and that would be placing hardware performance in a position above the personal physical performance that the Krall were determined to improve.

New human missiles were also more complex than previously seen, with onboard computers that could think for them after they were launched. Some inbound missiles could fragment into multiple, independently targetable and self-directed small units. They would try specifically to seek out the vulnerable weapons ports, where clanships fired lasers, plasma cannons, or launched anti-ship missiles, in an attempt to pull the teeth of the clanship. The stealth capability of the clanship skin was still unsolved for humans, but the very act of firing back at the enemy revealed not only a Krall craft’s presence, but also the location of its weapons emplacements along the hull.

Rotating the clanship first one way, then the other in combat, made this more difficult for the AIs in the small missiles, but it also made accurate return fire more complex if the weapons ports were always shifting around. In the end, human ships still came out the looser most of the time, but the margin of victory was narrowed. The worthy enemy was getting better in space.

Telour quickly became aware of the extreme maneuvering of his clanship, which had made its exit several miles closer than the three ships that were covering his arrival.

He spoke to his pilot. “Krodar, the atmospheric entry for my previous visit here was almost unnoticed by the human defenses. Have they improved that much?”

“My Til, our hand of clanships has been targeted by ten human ships that rushed to meet us, and by two hands of long range ground missiles. Our own ground based plasma cannons are attacking them, as are our three companion clanships. They are flying above us, to draw more of the enemy fire as I planned, and they are firing on the enemy. I am moving to prevent us from becoming a target, and by not firing at the enemy, they do not see this ship as clearly. They will only detect our turbulent movement through the air, after we have moved away.”

“I did not ask for a protected and safe entry Krodar.” He sounded threatening. “My ship should fight as do the others. I am a warrior before I am a war leader.”

“My Til, Tor Gatrol gave me instructions to ensure that your mission to meet with Gatlek Pendor takes place as he ordered. To do that I must preserve this ship, without damage if possible, to land near his new headquarters bunker.”

Annoyed, Telour had to accept the unwanted protection. He observed the details of the brief battle on screen, which exposed the three other ships to more risk than his own. Understanding that it was a matter out of his control did not lessen the sense of humiliation, where other leaders favored by Kanpardi were permitted to face higher risks, as if he were somehow weaker, requiring protection from others. His resentment of Kanpardi’s logical actions hardened his own emotional resolve. The Tor thought too much like the enemy!

It was obvious after a few minutes, that the entire hand of clanships would make a successful penetration and landing. Only one of his escorts suffered minor hits when its pilot failed to rotate her craft often enough, and it lost two laser cannons when those ports were hit by small missiles. None of the ground-launched missiles had come close to scoring a hit, knocked out by the ring of plasma batteries on the ground. It was more than annoying that the Krall forces on Poldark had to use stronger defensive measures now, because of the limits placed on material available to use in offensive actions.

Unaware that this was similar to a human adage, he recalled that a common strategy in interclan warfare was that “a defensive plan was not required, if your offense was powerful enough.” The human saying was that “the best defense is a good offense.”

There appeared to have been moderate damage done to one human ship, which withdrew, and less damaging plasma beam hits on five others. Despite their rushing in for an attack, the human ships were initially positioned too far away from the low level White Out point to provide rapid concentrated firepower. The human missiles were nearly all intercepted, and the human ships in turn did intercept all of the Krall anti-ship missiles. Clearly, they had improved their efforts to disrupt resupply missions, or at least make them more thrilling.

****

Mirikami was standing next to the Falcon as General Nabarone’s staff shuttle settled to the crater bottom. They had exchanged recorded and written messages, but had not seen one another for nine months, since the Mark of Koban had headed home.

Thad was the first to comment, since he remembered and recognized his friend from earlier days, when Nabarone had been more physically fit. “Henry has lost some weight!”

Mirikami agreed. “From this distance I didn’t realize that was him stepping out first. I think he’s shed forty pounds. It must have been seeing you after twenty-five years had passed, which pushed him to exercise. You
are
five years older, I believe.” He smiled at the thought of the formerly semi-rotund general taking up running, and dragging some of his support staff along for company.

Thad had been Nabarone’s superior in a former Poldark planetary militia, when both men stayed physically fit. Koban had kept Thad trim, muscled, and tan in the intervening years, while running the PU Army command on Poldark had pushed Nabarone deeper into sedentary administrative work.

Two hands slapping his slimmer abdomen as he approached, Nabarone boomed out, “I’m not all the way there yet, but I’ll get there! I can’t help the tan too much, not with Poldark’s cloudier climate. How the hell
are
you, you bunch of trouble makers?”

Thad reached him first, grasping and shaking his right hand, and clapping his left on Nabarone’s shoulder, as he looked his trimmer friend over. “You look like you’re ready for the front line Henry.”

“Not until I get the gifts I think you and Tet’s presence suggest you brought me.” He said with a grin. “Not that Howard here or my other staff would let me do that anyway.”

Major Howard Caldwell, Nabarone’s aide, and two other officers were following behind the general.

Turning to Mirikami, Nabarone said, with a smile, “I’m glad to see that the chief trouble maker at least showed up to apologize for what he’s stirred up.”

Shaking hands, matching and then slightly exceeding the larger man’s firm grip, Mirikami pretended ignorance, matching the smile. “What did
I
do, Henry? I came to offer you and your staff a present of a lifetime, and discover I have to face some scurrilous accusations?”

When Nabarone pulled away his hand, he shook it to regain the feeling that the much smaller Mirikami had squeezed from his hand. “You supermen kicked the Krall’s asses, and they plan to take their anger out on us, I think. And by the way, thanks for
not
breaking my fingers, Tet.”

“You’re welcome, Henry. A month after we leave, you’ll be able to return that grip,” Mirikami answered with a laugh. Then he asked what the enemy was doing that made him suspect they were angry. “Have the Krall started new offensives?”

Nabarone shook his head no, but explained. “They are bringing in more clanships, but surveillance says they aren’t offloading many more warriors or equipment. However, most of them have not left either. There’s a steady build-up of clanships. That has to be for a reason.”

Then as Mirikami tugged at his lip, a gesture even Nabarone recognized as preceding a usually insightful theory from the brilliant small man, he interrupted the discussion that was sure to follow. “Let’s go into the new headquarters building that Special Ops has constructed, and gain a bit more privacy. Besides, I think I may want a drink in my hand when I hear what you think is about to happen.”

The introductions and greeting of the other staff officers that came with Nabarone proceeded as they walked to the headquarters building.

After the exchange of names and handshakes, Nabarone explained why they were there. “These men are the only members of my personal staff that know about your gene changes, and of course Howard visited here previously and was introduced to you, back when you and your youngsters were in training. Captain Rivers, and Captain Slavko, are recent additions to my staff. They both have been vetted by two of the TG2 spec ops officers that Captain Haveram brought back with him on a previous return visit. They know what a Kobani is, and want to become a dual citizen. After I go through this transformation, then I need staff around me as a buffer, to understand the changes that might be apparent to outsiders over time. I had to replace some good people, promoting them up the line to other posts, because they held some mental reservations that the TG2s detected. These men do not.”

In ten minutes, settled in comfortable chairs in an officer’s lounge, drinks in hand, Nabarone invited Mirikami to finish the thought he had outside. “You warned that the Krall would be honor bound to strike back in some fashion after your raids. The chief here…,” he paused a moment. “Excuse me, Captain Haveram. You were originally introduced as Chief to me before you took the Falcon home. This is the first we’ve spoken since. How would you like to be addressed now, as captain?”

“Nah. Tet here is still my captain. Let’s not confuse the poor elderly gentleman, even if he does look like a kid now. Call me Chief, since only my mother calls me Mike.”

“Chief it is.”

Mirikami couldn’t let the dig slide. “You’re almost as much an old fart as I am you adolescent looking twerp. That mustache you seem to be trying to grow looks like a fuzzy worm on that baby face now.” Chief Haveram, like every modern male, carried the three hundred year old genetic mods that prevented facial hair growth, unless countered by a hormone cream. He apparently wanted to look more dashing; in a retro way that appealed to the Ladies, particularly those he met in the spaceport dives he now frequented.

Haveram stroked the wispy hair defensively. “It just needs a few shaves, to regain its vigor when it finally grows out for good.”

Thad took a turn. “You look like a teenager, trying to get into a bar before turning twenty-one.”

Nabarone deflected the conversation back to the real topic, but only after he added he own comment. “Stop making the four of us envious,” he gestured to himself and his three staff officers. “We can’t use your damned age regression mods because it would draw too much attention to us. Tet, the chief here passed along your warning that the most likely place for the Krall to retaliate was on Poldark, since they don’t have any of those Eight Balls they used to hit Rhama. What do you think would be the purpose of the clanship build up, if they aren’t moving in more warriors and weapon systems?”

“Kanpardi, their top war leader, is one of the smart ones. He is more patient, and he plans ahead. He knows that they can replace the lost production in a couple of years, by spreading it out to more of their clan worlds. As we learned on our last raid, they are adapting to a more defensive posture on production worlds. Small raids will be increasingly more difficult, and will only work on lesser value targets that will be defended more weakly.

“If I were Kanpardi, I’d have to satisfy the blood lust for revenge from the scream and attack type clan leaders, while not getting off the track of their long term goal. To use the steady conquest of our worlds to improve their warrior’s bloodlines. He believes in the Great Path, and based on the slow and steady progress they made over about twenty-five thousand years, it has worked for them so far.”

Nabarone was skeptical. “They plan to use clanships to help in a ground attack on our lines?”

Mirikami knew Nabarone was right to doubt that strategy. He shook his head. “In atmosphere that wouldn’t be very effective, because of the partial loss of their stealth ability, and an increased loss of clanships from your planetary defense, which they can’t afford right now. If they had brought in warriors and weapons systems with those landings, I’d say they were about to wipe everyone off the face of the planet, as they did on Bollovstic.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence in my army, and in me.” Nabarone groused.

“Henry, you once told me that if they didn’t pull back after the major pushes against your lines that they could roll your forces up when they broke through. They
elect
to pull back, to drag the war out. You never have stopped them!”

Nodding reluctantly, he silently agreed.

Mirikami continued. “They have always had more forces here than required to complete the conquest, but they rotate the fighting between clans, and finger clans, to let them all share in the fighting, while others stay back and train for whatever new tactic you used, or new weapons you introduced.

“Periodically, they send their battle tested warriors to clan nest worlds for breeding, and for training the next generation of novices. They are probably just starting to train the second generation of novices from the war’s attrition by now. I don’t think Kanpardi would
waste
the benefits of the good fight you have presented them with here.”

“Then what’s the point of storing clanships here, when some of them are destroyed or damaged on the attempt to land. They can depart even more safely, because of their speed and our lack of warning, so why don’t they leave?”