Sword of Axia (The Arcadian Jihad) (18 page)

“It’s alright, they’re outside of effective range. Increase speed to maximum and try to find a way to keep clear of their guns. Remember, our armor needs to get close, really close before they can hit them. Helmets on and check suit integrity, gentlemen.”

Blas fastened his helmet closed and checked the seal. Out of the Perspex vision slot Blas saw the N34s surging forwards to take on the enemy. The Axians were shooting and some of their gunfire crashed against the hulls of the Rescom armor, but they were still outside of effective range and it glanced off harmlessly.

Suddenly, the plain was lit up by artillery fire as they met the first line of defenses, plasma guns in defilade waiting for the opportunity to draw first blood from Rescom. They were no longer outside of effective range, a vehicle exploded as it took a direct hit. Their driver swerved away from the stricken vehicle but Smetana told him curtly to stay on course. They were following a shallow channel in the ground that at least kept part of their hull out of sight of the enemy guns. Then they reached the defenses and the ground became an intricate patchwork of colored plasma bursts. Two more Rescom vehicles exploded but the Axian artillery was lightly protected and once their vehicles overran the guns they were able to wreak havoc as they hit from the rear. Smetana keyed his commset.

“All units, remember their armor is still a threat, they’re nearly within range. We need to close with them as quickly as possible. All of you, resume the advance, try to use the terrain as much as possible to keep out of sight of their guns. Remember, we need to get within one thousand yards to destroy them.”

They accelerated to top speed, dodged and weaved their way towards the enemy. The hurricane of fire was stronger now as every Axian gun opened up and tried to knock out the Rescom force before it got nearer. Smetana keyed the commset again. “Make sure you don’t…”

The blinding explosion hit their transport and it rolled over.

Blas heard the hiss of escaping air as the vehicle depressurized. He checked his suit for integrity, but nothing seemed to be damaged and the precious life-giving air was still circulating. He drew his laser pistol and flung open the hatch to check for any enemy that might be near. But they were on their own, the Rescom force had swept past and were exchanging fire with the rapidly closing Axians. He looked down at his pistol with a rueful smile, if a Mk V did come near, what in space could he do about it? The first priority was to check the crew. He climbed back through the hatch, Berg Smetana was carefully untangling himself from a twisted knot of cables that had sprung out of the electronics console and fastened around his legs when the blast hit. Max was helping him, the other troopers were getting their weapons and supplies together ready to bale out and continue the fight. He called for two of the troopers to climb out and secure the area as best they could, then he went to make a more detailed assessment of the damage. The blast had hit the front and blown a hole that had taken out their pressurization system. It had also taken out the driver, the sole casualty, he was beyond help, dead with a huge wound in his chest. Blas left him and followed them out of the hatch. Smetana was already on his helmet communicator and less than a minute later a Rescom N34 was heading back to them to pick them up. They climbed into the vehicle’s cramped interior, this was no troop transport designed to carry a large body of men. It had a crew of three and a supplies compartment that they packed into, Smetana went forward and squeezed into the crew compartment with Blas.

“We’re overrunning the Axians, they’re already starting to retreat to their next line of defense. I’ve decided to head straight for our secondary objective, Cax.”

“With just this one squad?” Blas replied, surprised at the change of plan.

“I don’t want to thin out our attack. Besides, our plan to surprise them was always a little weak, I’ve decided on something simpler and more direct.”

“What’s that, Berg?”

“We’ll smash down the gate, drive straight in and kill them all.”

“That should come as a surprise to them,” Blas smiled. If they did get inside the town, they would be able to wreak havoc on the defenders. And there was Evelyn, she was there, in his mind he knew she was. Perhaps she was using some kind of mental power to communicate with him, perhaps it was something more fundamental than that, he wanted her, more than he’d ever wanted a girl in his life. She was so beautiful, clever, graceful and accomplished, she was a precious jewel. The N34 shot forward and he clung on as it bumped down into a shallow valley, twenty minutes later they were within sight of the town and there was no sign yet that the defenders were aware of their approach.

System Standard 2728.1308 Battlecruiser Rex Vitas above Moon Caxas

The bridge speaker suddenly blared. “Enemy fleet within range, our sensors estimate they have eleven hundred and twenty two warships.”

They watched the screens, the line of dots across the whole width looked formidable. They were more than outnumbered by two to one, it was going to need some serious fighting to even up these odds.

“Order the Fleet to close up, wedge formation, we’ll drive straight through the middle, Commander Gehlen.”

“Aye, Sir.”

With the flagship at the very point of the wedge, they would take the maximum number of hits, but they also had the strongest shield system in the Fleet. Would it be enough, Rusal wondered? He shook his head in irritation, that was defeatist thinking, of course it would be enough. The Fleet took formation as they neared the Axians, particle beams started to flick out as some of the gunners panicked and opened fire while they were still out of range.

“Enemy interceptors approaching, total of four, estimated contact time one minute and three seconds.”

They looked at each other in surprise at the bridge speaker’s announcement. Why in space were the Axians launching single seat interceptors this far out in space, so far ahead of the main Fleet? It was suicide.

“Any ideas, Mr. Gehlen?”

“None, Sir. Surely they won’t try attacking us, they’ll be blasted out of space?”

“We’ll have to wait and see.”

The interceptors broke formation and started weaving, the Rescom ships fired salvo after salvo at the agile little ships and were rewarded with a hit, one exploded and vanished from the screens. The others came on, closer, closer, if they weren’t careful they’d get so close that they’d run the risk of collision. Then it happened, a massive explosion as one of the Axian craft hit a Rescom light cruiser, the combined explosion was silent in the vast vacuum of space but it was as if they could hear it and the hundred of souls crying out from inside the broken hull.

“The crazy bastards,” Gehlen shouted angrily, “it’s almost as if they did that deliberately.”

Another interceptor collided with another of their light cruisers, another silent explosion.

“No, Mr. Gehlen, not almost, it is deliberate. It’s a new tactic, suicide pilots. Signal all ships, break formation and take individual evasive action, emergency maneuver now!”

The Rescom Fleet scattered all over space as they realized what the Axians had unleashed against them. It was sick, the very idea of suicidal attacks, but very, very effective. For a single seat fighter to ram a light cruiser made huge tactical sense, if you had the complete absence of morals to give that kind of an order.

“What do we do now, Admiral?” Gehlen asked as they hurtled away from the gnat-like craft that stung with such fearful force.

“We shall have to regroup and go back in, Commander. It means we’ll have to use our guns to hit those interceptors first, that’ll leave us vulnerable to the main batteries of the Axians. I’m afraid there’s nothing else we can do. Order the Fleet to reform on the flagship, we’ll restart the attack. Watch for those interceptors, we need to shoot them out of space before they get near us, our shields are no defense against that kind of an attack.”

The Rex Vitas heeled over and started a long, looping turn that would bring it back to face the enemy, to the sides and behind them, the rest of their ships formed once more in the offensive wedge. It was time to punch through the Axian line. Unless the suicide ships stopped them first.

System Standard 2728.1309 Battlecruiser Sword of Axia above Moon Caxas

“A good result, Admiral. The Grand Pasha’s idea for suicide pilots was truly the work of a genius. I shall send him a congratulatory message as soon as the battle is won. It is impressive, is it not, the way those suicide ships destroyed the Rescom cruisers? One small ship and one crewman to destroy so much, it’s a wonderful way to fight a battle.”

“Yes, Sir. Wonderful. For those who survive.”

Admiral Kahn was sickened at the brutal cruelty of sending men to their death deliberately. He wanted no part of it, but as long as Kerawan was on board he had no choice, he remembered the details of their ‘preparations’. The ‘volunteers’ were given two days of intense electronic ‘education’, he recalled that it used to be known as brainwashing. Before the battle they were injected with a drug that removed all fears and inhibitions, their sole purpose in life was to die for Axia. It was not war. He briefly thought about tossing the odious Kerawan through the airlock and reporting him as having volunteered for a suicide mission. They stood watched the screens as it become obvious that the Rescom Fleet was forming up for a new attack.

“Are the next batch of interceptors ready, Admiral?” Kerawan asked.

“Yes, ready to launch, Sir.”

Ordinarily Alex Yalonda would have been at his, or her, duty station, sealed inside a pressure suit and ready to repair any battle damage to the ship’s attack systems. An hour before the Ensign had removed the pressure suit and reported to sickbay, the doctor was convinced that the young man was suffering from a serious case of appendicitis. Ensign Yalonda was signed off unwell and kept in bed in the sick bay, conveniently situated one deck immediately above the launch bay for the interceptors. It was near enough. She knew about the suicide missions from message traffic that had swirled around the tiny earpiece inside her helmet. She’d immediately arranged her illness and hoped that there would be enough time to influence the next group of suicide pilots before they took off. The doctor would swear on oath, with one hand on the Book of Axia, that Alex had taken a powerful concoction of intelligent drugs that would be absorbed into her body and make the necessary micro tissue changes that would repair the illness. If anyone suggested that Ensign Yalonda had merely washed the drugs down the sink he would have accused them of lying, after all, he’d seen it with his own eyes. He also knew that Alex Yalonda was unconscious, sleeping soundly from the effect of the drugs. When the Ensign woke up he’d feel much better, he’d have no pain or infection when he came around. He beckoned to the nurse, who was equally satisfied that everything had been done correctly to deal with the potentially life threatening illness. The nurse checked the monitors once more, she’d thought for a moment the readings were wrong but no, this was one very sick officer. They left the sickbay and turned out the light. Alex immediately focused all of her attention on the interceptor pilots, only yards away on the deck below. She felt their minds, probed around, seeking the brain nodes she needed, the fight and flight centers, the emotion and reason centers, the she started to make the necessary changes that would nullify the effects of the drugs and the brainwashing. The technique was quite basic, really. There were no subtle hues of emotion, no shades of fear that would conflict with any notions of bravery, it was just like a switch. A switch that was a way of changing a man from foolhardiness and fanatical bravery. To utter, abject cowardice.

“Won’t take off? What in Axia’s name are you talking about, these pilots have been prepared? Order them to take off at once, or I’ll have them killed.”

“I think that’s what they’re afraid of, Sir.”

Kerawan looked at Admiral Kahn in fury. Damn, it was almost as if the man was enjoying his discomfiture. “What do you propose to do about it, Admiral?”

“Perhaps we should speak to the Grand Pasha, Sir. After all, it is his scheme, I’ve no doubt that he will know what we can do.”

“Fuck the Grand Pasha,” the Secretary screamed. Then he reddened. “Forget I said that, Admiral. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Sir.” But of course, it had been picked up and was now recorded forever in the ship’s log, a useful bargaining chip should one ever be needed. And it almost certainly would be with this man, Kahn thought to himself.

“I’ve had enough playing around with this moon. Prepare our forces for a direct attack on Corazon, Admiral, we’ll wipe these Rescom traitors completely out of space. I want them dead, do you hear me? Dead!”

“Our tactical plan requires us to assume a defensive posture and wait for them to hit us, Sir. Their ships are different to ours, more lightly shielded but faster to maneuver. We need to let them come to us to take maximum advantage of our respective configurations.”

It was too much, in spite of himself, Kerawan lost control for the second time. “I couldn’t give a fuck for their configurations, I want them dead. Kill them, kill them all, attack Corazon, Admiral. Attack now or I’ll have you relieved!”

“Yes, Sir,” Kahn replied wearily. He was thinking seriously about that airlock again, the sound of the Secretary’s screams as the outer door opened to suck him into the vacuum of space seemed very sweet indeed. He turned his attention back to the crew, awaiting for their orders. “We’ll withdraw into hyperspace and swing back outside of the planetary space of Corazon. We’ll catch them unawares.”