Exodus: Empires at War: Book 8: Soldiers (Exodus: Empires at War.) (16 page)

Walborski had a
moment to think about his missing man.  He did not know Quang well, but
from his record he was a good man.  The Captain had gotten him back in
time for nano-reconstruction and resurrection to salvage his basic personality
and much of his most salient memories, those which had been backed up
throughout his brain.  Now he faced a year or more of relearning and
programming before he was once again a functioning adult, if still not a
Ranger.  That would come later, if the man decided to volunteer again.

The Colonel
rapped his old fashioned pointer on the table as he stood at the front of the
room looking over everyone with a stern face.  The talking died down to a
murmur, then silence.

“Thirty-three
hours, gentlemen,” he said, then nodded to a couple of the engineering
officers.  “And ladies,” he continued with a grin.  None of them were
used to having women in on a combat briefing, unless they were Intelligence or
some other support branch.  But the combat engineers and anti-aircraft,
not to mention the armored company, each had some female officers, just like
the rest of the Imperial military.

“In thirty-two
hours Third Battalion will deploy through the wormholes.  In thirty-two
and a half hours First and Second Battalions will deploy to the outside and
make their way to their start off points.  At thirty-three hours to the
second, Company C, Second of the One Eighty Eighth Armor will deploy through
the wormhole, and the enemy will have the first sign that something is
up.  Company D will deploy moments later.”

A holo of the
camp and surrounding areas came up, something that everyone in the room was
familiar with.  Supposedly it had been updated with the latest
information, but as far as Walborski could tell, it was exactly the same as
what he had seen the day before.

“As far as we
can tell, the Cacas are still sitting there fat and sassy,” said the Colonel,
pointing to the holo map with the rod in his hand.  “If everything goes as
planned, we should achieve complete surprise.  However, all of us are
veterans, and we know that nothing ever goes exactly as planned.”

There were some
chuckles around the room.  Every officer and NCO in the room was a combat
veteran.  There were no newbies just out of the academy on this mission,
with the exception of a couple who had seen action as enlisted men before they
were offered commissions.  This was not the kind of mission to break in
new officers.

“We are going to
keep close watch over the next thirty-three hours to make sure there are no
signs that they know we are here.  Of course, if we are found out, it
changes nothing.  We still go in, on schedule, no matter what.  Seven
hundred million people are depending on us.  So remember, to keep your men
at hand, and don’t let them do anything that might tip our hand.”

“What about
everyone else involved in this cluster?” asked Lt. Colonel Montaigne. 
“From the latest intelligence we have received the Fleet is out there running
ships into each other.”

Walborski
glanced over at the Lt. Commander in charge of the Naval Commando company, who
was glowering at Montaigne.  There had always been a fierce rivalry
between the two services, particularly since the Fleet got the lion’s share of
the military budget.  But ships cost a lot more than ground forces did

“We have no
control over the rest of the units involved in this operation,” said the
Colonel, shaking his head.  “All we can handle is what we have control
over.”  His eyes locked with Montaigne’s for a moment.  “And we
really don’t need an Interservice rivalry at this point.  Just see to your
battalion, Colonel Montaigne, and we’ll let high command worry about the big
picture.”

Cornelius had to
admit that Colonel Pham had a point, but then again so did his CO.  There
was so much riding on this thing going off according to plan.  It was
foolish to think that everything could go off perfectly, and that they would
get all of the civilians out.  In point of fact, at least three hundred
and fifty thousand of those civilians would die before the assault started, and
there was nothing they could do about that either.  Walborski thought that
one fact would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.  Images of the
children in the camp came to him whenever he closed his eyes, and the sight of
the carts full of bodies.  It was too much.

“Everyone make
sure your men and women know the mission inside and out.  I hope that all
of us make it through, but we all know better.  Your second in command
must be ready to take over in case something happens to you, and the person
behind them if they go down.  Platoon sergeants must be ready to take over
for platoon leaders, senior squad leaders after that.  Executive officers
for company commanders, senior platoon leaders after.  Every officer and
NCO in the Regiment must be able to take over for the man above them if
something happens.”

Cornelius was
beginning to wonder what the purpose of this pep talk was.  Everyone in
any combat unit knew about the delegation and transfer of command during
combat.  He looked into the Colonel’s eyes and then he knew.  The man
was terrified.  He looked around the room.  They all were scared out
of their wits.  He could feel the fear dwelling in his own heart, and knew
it was the same as theirs.  It wasn’t fear of going into combat.  It
wasn’t even fear of dying.  It was fear of failure.  An entire nation
was depending on them and the other soldiers, preparing for the assaults on all
the camps, on a half dozen planets.  If they failed, the nation of New
Moscow was gone.

Oh, there were
other survivors, the few million refugees who had escaped into Imperial
space.  The ships that had led that evacuation were here, in New Moscow
space, or waiting to come through the wormholes.  For them this mission
was even more vital.  They had already been beaten once, and now they were
being given a second chance.

“Religious
services will be held for all denominations five hours before mission start,”
said the Colonel, his voice steady despite his fear.  “After that, all of
your soldiers will be fed and you will perform last minute equipment
checks.  We will have a last minute command call three hours before the
commencement of combat.  Hopefully there will be no major changes. 
But if there are, we will plan for them at that time.  Dismissed.”

Cornelius got up
from his seat along with the rest of the attendees.  There was some muted
conversation, but no one approached Cornelius, whom some still considered a
Maverick who had been promoted too quickly, probably because of Imperial
favor.  That was fine with him.  He was the junior company commander
of the battalion, and like most Ranger officers he spent most of his time with
the unit he was in charge of.

“Walborski,”
said Colonel Montaigne, walking up to him with his exec, Major Colquitt, in
tow.  “You’re set to guard our right flank.”

Walborski
nodded.  He hadn’t liked the assignment from the start.  His company
was more or less both the flank guard and the reserve.  The CO had
explained to him that since his company had taken the brunt of the risk in
scouting out the objective, they would get the least risky mission on the
assault.

“You know what
to do if the rest of us don’t make it?”

“Yes, sir. 
But I doubt that anything like that is going to happen.”

“The odds are against
it,” agreed the Battalion Commander.  “But odds sometimes have nothing to
do with reality.  We both know that.  So I want you to be prepared,
body and soul, for what could happen.  I want you prepared to finish up
the battalion’s mission if there’s no one else around to command. 
Understood?”

Cornelius
nodded.  He wasn’t sure if he even believed in a soul, but he knew he had
some kind of spirit, even if it was only the biochemical reactions of his
brain.  He had the spirit of a warrior, and he knew he would never quit as
long as there was a breath in him.  That he would never quit as long as
there was still a mission to perform.

*    
*     *

SECTOR IV ASSEMBLY WORLD, APRIL 7
^TH
,
1002.

“Are your people
ready, Samuel?” asked General Lucius Arbuckle, looking up at the lower ranking
flag officer who was standing in front of his desk.

“Yes, sir,”
agreed Baggett, whose Corps would be assaulting almost half the camps on the
planet.  “As ready as we’ll ever be.  Though I must admit that some
of my commanders are just a little worried about unleashing so much firepower
among the civilians we are supposed to save.”

“It scares the
hell out of me too, Samuel,” said the higher ranking general.  “Oh, for
God’s sake, have a seat, Samuel.  You’re not some shave tail who needs to
snap to attention at the sight of a star.  You’re a goddamn corps
commander, after all.”

“Yes, sir,” said
Baggett, sitting in the comfortable chair and trying to sit at attention, which
was difficult to do in the plush seat.

“When we’re alone,
Samuel, you can go ahead and call me Lucius.  You’re basically third in
command of this circus we call an army.”

Baggett
nodded.  He was the junior corps commander, which put him right behind Lt.
General Emani in the Army chain of command.  There was one other corps
commander who had him by a couple of months in rank, but she would be coming
with the reinforcements from space, and would not be planetside from the start.

“We’ll just have
to do the best we can,” said Arbuckle with a frown.  “I’ve kind of fretted
over the possibility that we might be killing millions of civilians
myself.  But there really isn’t much of a choice.  It’s either that,
or just stand by and let them all die, and that is unacceptable to all of us.”

Baggett sat
there silent for a moment, letting what his commanding officer said sink in,
before asking the tactical question that had been keeping him awake at
nights.  “What do we do if the Fleet doesn’t take out their space based
assets?  If they retain any planet aimed particle beams or kinetics, we
could lose most of the civilians.”

“That concerns
me as well, Samuel.  But basically it’s not our problem, except that it is
if the Fleet doesn’t do their job.  Let’s not borrow anxiety where we
already have our fill.  The Spaceheads will do everything they can to take
care of their part of the mission.  They know what’s at stake, as much as
we do, and some of them will be New Muscovites.  So I expect they will do
everything within their power to make sure we don’t have weapons fire coming down
on us from orbit.”

“Yes, sir. 
It’s just..”

“I’ve read your
record, General,” said Arbuckle, leaning back in his chair.  “That mess in
Fenri space would have driven most commanders mad.  It was not your fault
that you didn’t have space support at a critical juncture.  It really was
no one’s fault, not even Fleet’s.  They didn’t have time to do a pickup,
and anyone they had evacuated just would have weakened your position on the
planet.  And staying and fighting would have invited a defeat that would
have weakened the relief force.  Believe me, I wouldn’t have liked it
either, but I’m also not sure I could have done as good a job as you did at
that point in my career.  Going from brigade commander to command and
control of an entire corps during a disaster like that.  Very impressive,
and what convinced command that you were ready for higher command.”

Baggett sat and
looked at his commanding officer.  He had also read Arbuckle’s record, the
public portion that was used for press releases.  As a subordinate he
didn’t have access to the private, official use only report.  But what he
could read was still impressive, and he realized that Arbuckle hadn’t been
chosen for this mission out of a hat.  The man had a perfect combat
record, and scores from the General Staff College that were near perfect. 
That training was missing from Baggett’s record, he had come up through the
ranks too quickly to be assigned to the yearlong course designed to finish
Imperial Army flag officers.  Maybe someday that lack would be rectified,
but he had been marked as a battlefield commander, and the Empire needed such
at this time.  Not flag officers sitting in classrooms.

“What we do need
to worry about is taking out the Caca shore batteries,” said Arbuckle, leaning
forward.  “Two of your brigades are tasked with that job, and if they
fail, we could lose some ships to ground fire.”

“My people will
do everything they can to take out those weapons, Lucius,” said Baggett,
sitting up in his chair.  “They will give their all to make sure that
those weapons don’t take our ships under fire.”

The Commanding
Officer nodded his head, looking steadily at his junior corps commander. 
“You just worry about your part.  Let Fleet handle Fleet.  They’ll be
there, the Marines they’re scheduled to drop will be there.  As long as
everyone does their jobs, all will go as planned.  Maybe not
exactly.  That would be asking too much.  But well enough to work
with.

“Anything else,
General Baggett?”

“I just hope I
can get through the battle without another damned promotion,” said Baggett with
a small chuckle.

“Don’t you worry
about that.  I have no plans of dying on that damned planet.  And I
will do everything in my power to make sure my plans for returning work out.”

Chapter Thirteen

Soldiers generally win battles;
generals get credit for them.

Napoleon Bonaparte.

CAPITULUM, JEWEL, APRIL 8
^TH
,
1002.

“I am so happy
you are staying behind this time.”   Jennifer looked at her husband
with her liquid blue eyes and flashed him a breathtaking smile.

The pair were
sitting in the blue small dining room, one of the cozier private chambers in
the palace, just off of the huge kitchens that serviced the state dinners that
were frequent events in the massive complex.  A much smaller kitchen was
part of the state kitchen, where the Emperor’s private chef labored to prepare
the meals his charge enjoyed.

Sean looked up
from the plate of poached eggs that had taken most of his attention to look at
his lovely wife.  Her face glowed with the beauty of her pregnancy. 
She was showing now, what had been a small belly bump out to a noticeable
size.  Natural pregnancy was still the norm, since babies raised in
artificial wombs tended to exhibit personality problems, no matter their
care.  Not as bad as it was with clones, which were all murderous
psychopaths.  But enough of a chance at serious problems relating to
others that no mother would risk anything but a natural pregnancy, despite the
ten and half month ordeal that modern humans had to go through till childbirth.

“I can’t afford
to be away from the capital at this time,” said Sean after he swallowed his
egg, his eyes glancing for a moment at the flowering garden outside the large
window.  Brightly colored hummingbirds flitted from flower to flower,
thrusting their beaks into the blossoms to extract sweet nectar.  The
Emperor thought it was hard to believe that a war was going on with a bucolic
scene like that he was looking at.  But that war was so far away that even
the light from the battles being fought would take thousands of years to reach
this system.  “I think Lenkowski and the people under him can handle the
situation.”

“They always
could,” said Jennifer, looking at her husband from under hooded eyes. 
“You’ve just never wanted to admit that.”

“I should be with
the Fleet when they go into battle,” said Sean, tossing his fork onto his
unfinished eggs and standing up.  “If not for the crisis confronting
Parliament, my feet would be on the flag bridge of the command ship of my
fleet.”

“Why do you have
to be so stubborn,” cried Jennifer, getting up from her own chair and leaning
on the table to glare at Sean.  “You have a military chain of command to
handle the war.  You are the civil leader of the government in time of
war.”

“I will not be a
figurehead ruler,” growled Sean, slamming a hand down on the table.  A
pair of Secret Service agents poked their heads in the room for a moment,
making sure that everything was OK, before leaving them alone to the argument
that the guardians had become used to.  Sean stared at the door for a
moment before turning back to his wife, whose face was reddening in
anger.  “I never wanted to rule this damned Empire, but since I am in that
position, I will rule it.”

“You’re so
damned stubborn,” yelled Jennifer, standing straight, her hands going to her
back to gain the extra support.

Just like you
are
, thought Sean with an inner smile.  They argued, like all loving
couples, only sometimes their arguments concerned matters of state.

“You’re just
like Glen,” she said, her eyes throwing sparks.  A moment later she
realized what she had said, as Sean turned away and walked with slumped
shoulders to the window.  “I’m so sorry,” she said, hurrying over and
putting her arms round him, pressing her body into his back.  “I didn’t mean
to throw that in your face.”

“Sometimes it
feels like you settled for me, after you lost your Marine,” said Sean, clasping
her hands with his.

“Yeah, I settled
for the most powerful man in the most powerful star nation in this sector of
the Perseus arm.  I love you Sean, no matter what your hurt little boy
feelings tell you.  Just like your people love you.”

Sean turned in
her arms until he was facing her, his own hands clasping her back. 
“What’s the crack about little boy feelings mean?”

“You’re not the
completely self-assured monarch you want the Empire and the Galaxy to think you
are.  You’re still not sure if you’re doing the right things.  But
someone has to make the decisions, and you are, unfortunately, that person.”

Sean nodded,
knowing that she was right.  He hadn’t trained for the position like his
brothers had.  It was never expected that the throne would be his, and yet
it had fallen to him.  And he had to make decisions that might later haunt
him.

“I am afraid,”
he told her, holding her body tight.  “Now, more than ever.  My
military is about to embark on a rescue operation such as the known Universe
has never seen, and I’m terrified of the outcome.”

“Those people
would die if you did nothing,” she said, returning the embrace.

“And they may
die from the action I am taking.  And they aren’t even my subjects.”

“They’re people,
no matter who they swore allegiance to.  Or even if they swore allegiance
to no one.  They’re still human beings, and many of them may die because
of your actions.  But if you don’t act, all of them will, will you hear
me, die.”

“We’ve never
tried anything like this before,” said Sean, shaking his head.  “This
isn’t a standard operation.”

“Neither was
your last operation, or the one before that.  You’re forging new ground
here.  That is where your military genius resides, in the ability to
listen to others and decide on the most audacious outrageous plans possible,
keeping your enemy off guard.”

“And eventually
a plan will not work out to our advantage,” he said, his eyes looking out on
the garden again and its horde of hummingbirds.  “Eventually I will lose.”

“And you told me
that all commanders lose, sooner or later.  That the true commander is one
who can recover from a defeat and lead his people on to another victory. 
So chin up, my boy.  Things will work out the way they will work out.”

“Your Majesty,”
came a call over his personal com.  “Could we have some moments of your
time.”

“Of course,
Admiral McCollum.  Where are you?”

“At the Hexagon,
your Majesty.  I and my staff can be there in fifteen minutes.”

“No, you’ve got
too much going on right now to leave your headquarters,” said Sean, kissing
Jennifer on the forehead.  “I’ll be there in fifteen myself.

“Duty calls,” he
told his wife, kissing her again, this time on her lips.

“When will you
be back?”

“Not until
tonight.  I have meetings all day.  If only that damned bitch Zhee
wasn’t such a pain in the ass.  It’s not like she’s actually accomplishing
anything, except give me a headache.”

“Make sure your
valet gets a swipe at you before you leave the palace, you big lug,” she told
him, putting a finger to the tip of his nose.  “You have an image to
maintain in public, even if you are a slob in private.”

*    
*     *

“So that’s the
gist of it, your Majesty,” said Grand High Admiral Sondra McCullom
,
looking
over from the holo that presented the Fenri front, all of the Imperial and
allied assets highlighted in green, known enemy forces in red.

Sean stared at
that map himself, wondering what else could go wrong.  The war had seemed to
be won on that front, his forces driving on the Fenri capital world, picking
off important systems on the way.  Now it appeared that one entire flank
had collapsed, and the other two prongs were in retreated before they were cut
off.

“I take it we
haven’t left any of our troops behind in our retreat?”

“No, sir. 
Your orders were followed to the letter, and no people were left behind. 
We lost some ships implementing those orders, but…”

Something
else the military can blame on me
, thought Sean as he felt his face heat in
anger.

“It was the
proper order, your Majesty,” said McCullom, reaching out and putting her right
hand on his forearm.  She gave it a squeeze.  “It was in the best
tradition of the Fleet.  It does no good for anyone’s morale to let
Imperial military forces be captured.  Or pounded into dust from orbit,
unable to defend themselves.”

“How bad was the
bill?” he asked his Chief of Naval Operations, not really sure he wanted to
hear the answer.

“We lost eighty
percent of our force coreward flank.  It could have been worse, much
worse,” said the Admiral hurriedly as she saw the stricken face of her
monarch.  “It was a very skillful ambush, almost carried out to
perfection.  It was a miracle that Admiral Glavin got out as much of his
force as he did.  Admiral Akai lost his entire wing, and his life. 
But Glavin was able to get out of the system, fighting against tremendous
odds.  His fighting retreat was instrumental in saving as much of the
central force as we did.”

“And how much
was that?  The central force, I mean?”

“They were able
to extricate about seventy percent of their force.  We lost three of the
systems we had taken from the Fenri, but the force was able to regroup at the
Slavastra system.  Unfortunately, Fleer Admiral Johanson lost her life in
the battle.”

“And Admiral
Glavin?” asked Sean, thinking the man who saved almost a third of the attack
force from total destruction deserved some kind of reward.

“He was punished
for his actions, of course,” said McCullom with a smile.  “We promoted him
to Fleet Admiral and put him in charge of the central force.”

“And where do we
go from here on that front?” asked Sean, his quick mind calculating where his
forces were already stationed, and coming up with little in the way of fast and
ready reinforcements.

“Grand Fleet
Admiral Mgonda is recommending that we attempt to maintain our present position
while we reinforce him for the continuation of the offensive.  Now, where
we are supposed to get these reinforcements, on the eve of the operation in New
Moscow, I really don’t know.  We’re stretched very thin at the
moment.  What with the continued occupation of a good portion of Lasharan
space, our campaign against the Ming, anti-piracy patrols, and the continued
repair and refitting of vessels damaged in the large operation against the
Cacas, and we just don’t have the ships.  If we could get some more
support from our allies, we might be able to reinforce Mgonda enough for him to
hold what he already has.”

“The Crakista
have already committed over half their fleet to the alliance, as have the
Klashak and the Margravi,” said Sean, shaking his head.  “They also have
other commitments.  I’ll see what I can get Elysium to ante up, but we’re
already hearing squawking from their diplomatic corps about the losses they
sustained against the Cacas.”

Sean laughed a
moment at his own choice of words.  Elysium was led by the avian Brakakak,
a species descended from flightless carnivorous birds.  And they did tend
to make a squawking sound when they were alarmed or surprised.

“I think Mgonda
will have to hold on with what he has until we finish liberating New Moscow,”
said Sean, looking intently at the holo.  “What about the situation in
space to spinward of the Empire.”

“I have to
assume that you’re talking about the singular people the Exploration Command
has discovered?” asked McCullom, changing the holo to a view of the space in
question.  Of course McCullom, due to her position, knew where
Bolthole
was located in that space, but because of security it was not shown on the
holo.  The Klassek system was, of course, showing as a blinking icon on
the map.

“Yes.  From
what I understand, they possess an ability that could be of great use to us in
this war.  Not that we wouldn’t evacuate a breeding population at the
least if they didn’t have that ability.”  That had always been the policy
of the Empire.  Intelligence was considered precious, and they would go to
almost any lengths to make sure that an intelligent species survived, no matter
their immediate worth to the Empire.

“I agree, your
Majesty.  From what the reports say, their quantum communications ability
could be just what we’re looking for as concerns our inertialess fighters.”

“Which has yet to
be proven to work in a warp bubble,” said Sean.  The news of the discovery
of a species of aliens who were quantumly entangled, at least the siblings from
the same litter, had galvanized the thinkers at Fleet command.  The
connection was said to be instantaneous, and work through all the dimensions of
hyperspace.  But a warp bubble appeared to cut its interior off from the
rest of the Universe.  What that meant to a quantum entangled brain could
only be speculated on, since there were no warp bubble inertialess fighters in
that region of space to test them with.  “But even if they don’t prove to
be useful for communications in the fighters, they still have a talent we can
use.   I hate to be so cold blooded about it when their entire world
is facing destruction from that close blue giant.  But we don’t have
enough wormholes to equip all of our ships with.  I’m not even sure it’s
desirable to give all of our vessels their own wormhole, since we still seem
unable to move a wormhole through a wormhole.  So these sentients would
solve many of our com problems.”

“And you’re
saying, your Majesty?” asked the CNO, raising an eyebrow.

“I want every
resource we can spare from Exploration Command and Fleet Sector I
mobilized  rescue these people.”

“That will mean
weakening our regular patrols in that Sector.”

“Then shift some
ships from the other bordering sectors.  I want as many of those people
saved as we can manage.  And I want adults of the same sibling groups when
possible.”