Exodus: Empires at War: Book 8: Soldiers (Exodus: Empires at War.) (26 page)

“You will be
remembered when our people are free,” he told the male, kneeling and taking one
of the male’s forward hands.

The male gave a
weak nod, and then blew out his last breath.  The Leader lowered his head
and said a prayer for the passing of a warrior of his people.  “Let’s get
some confusion spread,” he said to his followers, throwing himself into a seat
and starting to work on the com panel.

Two of his
followers did the same, while a pair now equipped with particle beams moved to
the door, one going out to set up an ambush while the other watched the
entrance.  The Maurid Leader slid a chip into one of the slots on the
board he was sitting at.  It took a few moments for the program on the
chip to interface with the communications system, establishing an avatar that
would appear to be a fully screened and cleared Ca’cadasan.

The atmosphere
was filled with static, both purposefully generated and that made by all of the
radiation producing explosions that had been going off for the past half an
hour.  The center linked to all the Ca’cadasan commands through radio, of
course, but also had a backup system that used a superconducting cable system
that ran deep under the ground to at least the major command and control bases.

“I have new
orders for you from the General,” said the Maurid Leader to the officer, a
Brigade Leader, who appeared on the holo over his board.

“We were just
about to start shelling the three nearest camps to us,” said that harried
looking officer.

“You are not to
shell those civilians,” said the avatar over the com.  “We have other
plans for them.  You are instead to concentrate on attacking the military
forces of the enemy.” 
And hopefully they will wipe your sorry asses
out.

The Brigade
Leader looked confused for a short time, and the Maurid Leader worried for a
moment that the Ca’cadasan might demand to speak with the General
himself.  The program was set up to provide that avatar as well, but it
was running a risk that a senior officer that knew the General might be able to
catch the simulacrum in a lie.

“Very well, my
Lord,” said the Brigade Leader, a frown on his face.  “We will attack the
human infantry nearest to us.  I hope this will add to whatever plan you
have for our victory.”

The holo died,
and the Leader switched to the next headquarters on his list, hoping he could
play this game long enough.  The Leader did not expect to be able to hold
this center long.  He was sure that none of his people would get out if
this alive.  He hoped it was worth the sacrifice, and that the humans were
the saviors the Maurid people had been waiting for.

*    
*     *

Said General was
raging at the Com Tech at the base he had been touring when the attack
came.  Moments after the attack the com net dissolved into a mass of
static.  After that contact had become sporadic at best.

“We should be able
to get through to the com center, my Lord,” said the apologetic Cam Tech,
grimacing with embarrassment.  “There’s too much jamming to get through a
strong com signal, but the cables are still intact.  Wait.”

A holo screen
showed the face of a Caca male, the text below stating that it was a com tech
at the communications center.  The General didn’t recognize the male,
which in and of itself was not remarkable, as there were a lot of males on the
planet.

“My Lord,” said
the voice of the male, who obviously seemed to recognize him, which was not
surprising given the rank marking on his horns.

“This is General
Jawa'therista,” growled the planetary commander.  “What by all the hells
is going on?”

“We are having
problems with the communications net, my Lord,” said the male on the holo.

“And are you
having problems with the cable network?” asked the General, his eyes narrowing.

“No, my
Lord.  The cable network is still up, of course.”

“Then I want you
to connect me to all the base commanders on that network.  I will take
their holos in the conference room.”

“We are unable
to fulfill that request at this time, my Lord,” said the Com Tech.

“Then get me the
commanders of each base, one by one.  I will talk to each of them in
sequence.”

“I cannot
fulfill that request at this time, my Lord.”

“What the hells
is going on there?  I demand that you put me through to my
commanders.  I can’t get through to the Great Admiral at the moment. 
I must talk to my commanders.”

The holo went
blurry with static for a moment, what should have been an impossibility for the
underground cable system.  It firmed up for a second, then went completely
blank.

“Something is
going on there,” growled the General, turning to the Brigade Commander who
stood beside him in the room.  “I need to get there.”

“I beg my Lord
to not leave the base,” said the Brigade Commander.  “It’s too dangerous
out there.  Let us send an air scout force to the base and see what’s
happening with the com center.”

The General
stared at the other male for a moment, wondering if the male was showing good
sense, or cowardice.  This base was well protected, under a mountain, but
the Brigade Leader was also cut off from most of the shore batteries that this
center commander.

“I want three
aircraft,” he told the Brigade Leader.  “A transport for myself, and two
fighter aircraft.  And I want them now.”

“Yes, my Lord,”
said the lower ranking male, bowing.

The General
stood there and stared at the tactical holo in the room while the other male
saw to getting the transport and escorts.  The shore batteries, garrisons,
fortresses and camps were all indicated, still in the green of friendly
forces.  He didn’t know how true those dispositions were.  He knew
many of the camps had been taken, and wouldn’t have been surprised to learn
that all of them were now in the hands of the humans.  Some of the human
forces were also marked on that globe, though he wasn’t sure of those
either.  It was not the manner in which he would wish to run planetary
battle, but it was what he had.

“Your transport
will be waiting in five minutes,” said the Brigade Leader, coming up to the
General.  “I wish you would reconsider, my Lord.”

The General
waved that protest away with the wave of his hands.  He would get to the
place where he could exercise command, and he would have the heads of the
obstructionist incompetents who could not put him in touch with his other
commanders.  He looked forward to that last.

*    
*     *

“We have
liberated all of the camps, your Majesty,” said Senior Marshal Beatrice
Sanginawa, the commander of the Imperial Army in Sector IV, and the overall
ground force commander of the operation in New Moscow space.

“And how are we
doing with the evacuation?” asked Sean, sitting in his chair in the Hexagon
conference room where all the principals involved in the operation were seated,
at least holographically.

“We’re starting
on it,” said the Senior Marshal, a troubled look on her face.  “It may
take a little longer than we predicted.”

“How much
longer?”  The initial plan had called for three days to get everyone off
the planet.  Eventually, many of them would be coming back, if things
worked as planned.

“Five days to a
week,” she said, looking down at the table.  “There were, complications we
didn’t foresee.  There were more survivors than we thought going in, and
the estimates of getting them through the gates were, well, too optimistic.”

Sean looked over
at the tactical holo that showed the overall area of operations.  The
Republic had taken their objective, with a seventy some percent success
rate.  They had lost some civilians on every one of the planets they had
taken.  And they had lost one planet entirely, over thirty million
civilians.

The Emperor
didn’t like those numbers from his allies operation.  But he realized that
things happened, and that the Republic had done the best they could.  He
couldn’t blame them for a fail, when they had saved almost a hundred million
people.  Some of his other operations hadn’t gone off as well either, and
his forces had also lost a planet, along with thirty million, while saving
another ninety million.  But they had over seven hundred and sixty million
humans on New Moscow, three and a half times the number of people they had
saved on the other worlds combined.  This was the nation of New Moscow,
the heart and soul, a seed that could grow a new kingdom.

“What do you
plan to do about it?” he asked the Army commander, pinning her holographic
image with a stare.

“We have people
working on the problem,” she told him, returning the gaze.  “We still have
to fight a battle on the planetary surface, and the Fleet,” the woman’s eyes
glanced over at Sondra McCullom, who was actually in the room at the Hexagon,
“through no fault of theirs,” she said hurriedly, “is not able to provide us
with the support and logistics we need.  So we’re going to have to work
out the means of getting what we need to the surface of the planet
ourselves.  Which means we are going to have to use the wormholes.”

“And if you
don’t get the support you need?”

“Then, your
Majesty, we will be forced to continue fighting the Cacas all through the
evacuation, and I can almost guarantee we will lose a hundred million or more
of the refugees.”

“And that is
unacceptable,” said Sean, looking back at the holo.  “A million is not
acceptable, but I know we will lose more than that.  A hundred million,”
he shook his head.  “No way will I allow that to happen.”

The Senior
Marshal looked away, unable to meet the eyes of her ruler.  Sean felt bad
for the woman, and he would make it up to her, someday.  But at the moment
he needed her on the hot seat, using her brain to come up with a solution.

“What can the
Fleet do about it, Sondra?”

“We are already
doing everything we can, your Majesty,” said the Chief of Naval
Operations.  “We were not expecting to lose a gate so early in the
operation.”

“But you can get
more logistical support and reinforcements to the ground forces?” he
asked.  When she didn’t answer immediately he knew she didn’t want to say
what she knew he wouldn’t like, even though he had proven in the past he was
not a shoot the messenger type of ruler.  “Look, I can’t blame you for
something like losing a gate to enemy fire.  I wish you had added some
more redundancy into the equation, but there’s nothing we can do about it at
the moment.  So, what’s the solution?  What about bringing the
logistics support in through the gates that are riding along with the invasion
force moving insystem?”

“We could do
that, your Majesty,” said McCullom, shaking her head.  “But it will still
take over twenty-eight hours to get any of those ships into orbit, and we will
have to guard them through a battle.  I really don’t see how bringing them
in right now is going to help.  Maybe once we get the gates in orbit.”

“So, no matter
what we do, we will probably still be fighting the Cacas on the surface when
this force,” he pointed to the Caca fleet that was coming in from outside New
Moscow space, “arrives at the hyper barrier and attacks our fleet.  Which,
if I understand it, outnumbers us to the point where we have little chance of
winning the battle.  Which means,” he said, trying to keep his voice under
control and only partially succeeding, “we will still be struggling to evacuate
a hundred and fifty million or more civilians while their fleet is inserting
themselves into orbit and bombarding us from space.”

He looked back
at the holo, focusing on Lenkowski’s force, which would be able to challenge
that Caca fleet.  But they would not get to the hyper barrier of the
system until well after the enemy fleet was bombarding the planet and landing
troops on the surface.

“So we have four
days before this force enters the system,” said Sean, highlighting the large
Caca fleet, which, though it wasn’t the size of the one he had defeated at
Massadara or Conundrum, was still a powerful force, “which means we have three
days to figure out a way to either get all the civilians out of New Moscow, or
have something in place that can defeat the Cacas.”

“We only have
the ships we have, your Majesty,” protested McCullom.  “We should have
stationed a larger blocking force.  It’s too late to bother with that.”

Sean looked over
at the holo again, taking in ship deployments, calculating the transit times,
his superior mind crunching the numbers much faster than most.

“What about
moving these ships in from these star systems,” he said, pointing to large task
groups in the Republic area of operations.

“That still
wouldn’t completely redress the balance of forces,” said McCullom after looking
at the holo for a minute, then pulling up some information in her personal flat
comp.  “And those are not our forces to command.”

“But it will
help,” insisted Sean, looking from face to face.  “I’ll get in touch with
the President of the Republic immediately,” he said next, dismissing the
meeting with that statement.  “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.  Now
get to work on something else while I partially plug the hole in our order of
battle.”

*     
*      *

“I’ll issue the
orders immediately, your Majesty,” said President Julia Graham over the
wormhole com.

“You do realize
that you are putting those units out on a limb?” asked Sean, his anxious face
looking out of the holo.

“Part of the
game, isn’t it.  I really don’t like sending my forces into that kind of
situation.  But you were there for us when we were being rolled over, and
if it gets some more of those civilians away it’s worth it.  And it’s the
right thing to do.”

“Thank you,
Julia.  I appreciate it.  And I’m sure the people of New Moscow will
appreciate it.”