Echo of Tomorrow: Book Two (The Drake Chronicles) (52 page)

The marine guard looked up at him. “But sir! She’s your wife.”

“Like hell she is!” Scott snapped, looking at the spitting fury on the floor.

CHAPTER SEVEN:              
…
The sheep generally do not like the sheepdog. He looks a lot like the wolf.

                He has fangs and the capacity for violence. The difference, though, is that

                the sheepdog must not, can not and will not ever harm the sheep…

                  LTC (RET) D. Grossman

Helan Chokuk, Lord Commander of the Horde, looked at his tactical screen, one claw picking at the loose skin of his neck flap while he contemplated the enemy fleet. The information beamed back from First Fleet was fifteen light seconds old when it appeared on his tactical screen, and still somewhat sketchy. He could see several major elements of the hewman fleet, and he hissed in contempt. If that was all they were sending against him, he had little to fear.

His yellow eyes flicked around the pit below his command chair, touching on each of his subordinates. All appeared intent on their duties, but he knew from experience how easily the younglings became distracted. In his youth he’d sat in a similar place, remembering well the searing flash of pain ripping thought his body as punishment for inattention. Unlike his nest-mates he’d applied himself, and rose steadily through the ranks, gaining and holding a command chair at a relatively young age. Once there, he had access to the females, which he and the other younglings were denied until they had proven themselves. The thought of females caused his crest to rise. Thankfully the absence of female pheromones prevented full erection, and was the reason no females were ever permitted aboard a warship. It was hard enough maintaining discipline among the younglings, without the added complication of the young ones fighting each other for dominance and the right to mate. Like his predecessors, he wasn’t averse to pressing the punishment button when needed, but refrained from using it merely for his own enjoyment as others did.

Contemplating the tactical screen again, he saw additional hewman units gradually appear as the time/distance light speed information arrived. The speed of light was his limiting factor. At only 186,000 miles per second it would take time to fill in all the blank areas on the battle board to get a clearer picture of this star system, yet he dared not move into an attack formation until it was. The frustration of not knowing what was out there gnawed on him. How many fleets did the hewmans have, how many ships: their displacement, tonnage, or whether they were in an attack or defense formation. So many unknown critical details he needed to know before he could move. He half expected the hewmans to contest the warp point with his available ships, but he hadn’t, other than a few mines. A well-defended warp point could potentially take out a good portion of an enemy fleet. So why hadn’t they defended the warp point with anything other than a small minefield? These hewman animals were too sneaky by half.

After exiting from the netherworld of fifth-dimensional space, the three fleets had quickly formed into their respective battle groups in preparation for an attack. It still puzzled the lord commander why the hewmans hadn’t bothered to contest the Horde’s entrance into this star system. That had only made his task easier. Due to the natural motion of the planets, he’d quickly set each fleet on a spiraling retrograde course down to just above the plane of eclipse. This put him in a perfect position to observe any potential attack by a hewman fleet. Yet the time passed without so much as a sighting of any hewman ships. Instead of feeling more confident in his position, it gave him a feeling of unease, and a cause to worry. These strange creatures called hewmans didn’t do battle in any ways he could identify.

As each fleet moved closer to the third planet, the picture of the hewman star system, and their preparations for battle gradually filled in. A planet here, an asteroid belt there, and at last the hewmans’ warships. He growled softly to himself, his crest rising and changing to a deep blue of concentration. Their fleet wasn’t large, compared to either one of his fleets, and yet they had managed to defeat three fleets prior to this engagement with about the same number of ships. The first fleet he discounted, since they were nothing more than food-gathering units, with a small number of third-rate warships to act as a security screen. The hewmans had defeated them with ease when they shouldn’t have been able to do so at all, and that brought up the question of if they’d received outside help.

You never knew when Staed or Nirien warships might turn up, may the Dark Spirit take them! If that happened, the supply fleets were ordered to retreat and report back, which they had the first time. The second fleet was better prepared, but even so, it was mainly comprised of rear echelon, reserve, and training ships. They should have been able to defeat the rudimentary force the hewmans fielded against them, yet they too had been defeated. Chokuk’s intelligence units didn’t detect any foreign power sources, or weaponry, and it appeared the hewmans were using strictly home-manufactured weapons. That was a surprise. Up until recently, the herd animals in this system were docile, and had no weapons of any kind. So the question was how, and why, had they suddenly become so aggressive? And how did they develop weapons capable of destroying a well-armed fleet so quickly? Looking at the report of the last incursion, he noted the fleet consisted of front-line units who’d recently returned from combat for repair and resupply. A fleet with that much experience, and several major fleet elements, should have been able to pacify a minor planet like this one and restore order in no time. Yet they hadn’t. It was something to ponder, and suggested that caution be taken in his approach. This he’d done, working out a battle plan to destroy the hewman fleet and put the herd animals back in their pens where they belonged.

Chokuk’s hooded eyes flicked around the operations pit, and for a moment one clawed finger hovered over the punishment button. The youngling in question was only momentarily distracted, and it could have been something connected with his duty, so he didn’t press it. Instead, he moved his finger and pressed the communication unit button.

“Yes, Commander. I live to serve and obey,” the communications technician answered formally.

“Connect me with the commander of the landing fleet.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

He waited for the transmission to beam out and back, mentally cursing the lag time.

“Yes my Lord. I live to serve and obey.” The face of the landing fleet commander finally appeared on his side screen, bowing his head as required by tradition and regulation. His crest lay flat along the top of his head while his throat flap stayed a neutral, non-threatening gray.

“Remember your duty, Commander, and under no circumstances are you to engage units of the enemy fleet. Your sole duty is to get as many of the landing ships safely down onto the surface as quickly as possible.” Chokuk waited for the message to reach its destination, and the commander’s reply.

“I understand my Lord, and will follow your orders to the letter. I live to serve and obey,” he intoned, but Chokuk never heard it, since he’d already cut the connection, and reconnected to the communications unit.

“Connect me to Ground Force Leader Lecar.”

“Yes my Lord.”

At least he’d managed to teach his bridge crew not to waste time in meaningless greetings, mostly. There were a few diehards that feared punishment if they didn’t. He drummed his clawed fingers on his armrest while he waited for the connection and the reply, wishing there was some way to get around the slowness. The only comforting thought was that the hewmans faced the same problem.

“Greeting, Lord Commander. I live to serve and obey.” The ground force leader’s voice arrived before his image, which appeared on Chokuk’s side screen amid a flurry of static. The ground force leader’s crest was slightly raised, and the neck flap showed a distinct coloring.

Chokuk’s beetle brow pulled down in disapproval at such an unseemly emotional display, wishing he had a punishment button to press. Since the ground force leader wasn’t in his direct chain of command, he didn’t have one. He made a note to himself to pass on this inappropriate display to the task force commander after the battle.

“Remember your duty and my specific instructions on how to deal with this livestock. Your forces’ main objective is to eliminate all installations on the island in the southern seas and kill any hewman bearing arms of any description.”

“Yes, Lord Commander. I understand.”

“Good! Your second duty is to round up the so-called leaders of this herd and transport them to my flagship as soon as you have them. After that, your troops will eliminate all male hewman livestock over thirty of their sun cycles. You are forbidden to harm the remainder, especially the young, as they are needed as breeding stock. Once we have reestablished order to this herd and eliminated any livestock displaying aberrant behavior, we can then continue collecting and processing as before.”

“Yes, Lord Commander. I live to serve and obey.”

“Once you have completed the main objectives, have your troops drive the remaining herd animals out of their so-called ‘
cities
’ and back into the field and forests where they belong.” He much preferred his meat “free range,” the fear in their capture and processing adding such a delicious taste to the meat. “Once that is accomplished, I will commence orbital bombardment and reduce their dung heap “cities” to burned-out ashes and rubble.”

“I understand Lord Commander, and live to serve and obey.”

“See that you do!” Chokuk growled, hoping the reprimand in his words got through to the youngster.

A dark, hooded figure standing in the shadows behind him stirred, gliding forward to stand at the back and to the side of his chair. Chokuk felt his shoulders twitch in response. He wasn’t immune to punishment either.

“You did well to remind your subordinates of their duty, Commander. It speaks well of your careful planning, and is something noted by the high command.”

“Thank you, holy one.” The lord commander felt the words choke in his throat. “I live to serve and obey.”

“I’m sure you do,” the priest muttered, making it sound almost ironic. What he left unsaid was that the commander’s micromanagement was more of a joke among the high command, yet they couldn’t fault him for his results. The priesthood did, however, have a problem with Chokuk’s lassitude when it came to discipline.

“Lord Commander,” a crew member called out. “We have indications that the hewmans have some new type of warcraft.” The youngling sounded excited, half rising from his seat.

“This I see, young one. Calm yourself.…” Chokuk’s fore claw lightly tapped the punishment button. The young one sat down, his crest flattening against his skull. The light reprimand was sufficient to remind him of his duty.

The attack board did show a new type of craft, but he was unable to discern its type or function. There were a lot of them, a ten-hand count of five each. As the board firmed up, he noted they were formed into a ring around the central battle element. However, they were far too small to be of much concern, massing a mere 20,000 units of weight.

Yet why place them in such a configuration, if they were merely support units? They could be weapons platforms of some description, yet he couldn’t think of how they might be used except at very close quarters.

“Order the first fleet to continue on its present heading and engage the enemy.”

“Yes Lord Commander. I will relay the order,” the communication section replied.

“Now we shall put these chofar back in their place where they belong, and end this distraction once and for all,” he said to no one in particular.

* * * * * *

Even as he spoke, the Commander of First Fleet was also looking at his targeting screen. It showed a lot more detail than the lord commander’s, and he too was puzzled by the ring of odd-looking ships surrounding the major element of the hewman fleet. The blunt-nosed ships looked too small to be of any danger to him, except at very close range. So why were they there?”

“We will be in extreme missile range in one and a half cycles, Commander.”

The lord commander replied, “Commence firing once you have the major hewman elements targeted.”