From Furies Forged (Free Fleet Book 5) (15 page)

BOOK: From Furies Forged (Free Fleet Book 5)
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              “Yes Sir,” Eshfa said, tapping his Avarian fingers to his head, she returned the quick and lazy gesture before he turned to his duties.

              She saw the same grim determination in his eyes. He might have been born Avarian, but he had invested himself into the Chaleelian Armored Marine Commando Contingent at the request of Ursht. He had been invaluable and had taught Delahil many things that she could never have imagined. The difference between the AIH contingent and the Chaleelian contingent was size. The Avarians had taken their thirty ships to rush their Commandos to the front. Delahil had taken her time, letting the patrols come in and she had gathered fifty ships and all of her commandos before heading out as fast as possible. Salchar already had his forces ready in Parnmal and was just a few hours behind her, his plan was simple but elegant.

              Her eyes looked back on the live video of shuttles descending on Mars.

              She felt guilty trying to not think of the civilians that were caught between Earth forces and the Free Fleet as they fought a bloody battle on Mars and Hachiro.

             

                                                                      ***

 

              “Alright Edwards, where the hell are the Chaleelians and Salchar’s forces?” The President asked, there was only a small group of people but they were the mover and shakers of the United States. Edwards quelled his pride as he looked to the President seriously.

              “It looks like they aren’t going to be joining the Avarians in battle. They’re much closer so they should be here already. As to Salchar, I can’t give a good estimate. He has just come back from a battle, his people must be half-beaten already. Not many are going to want to join him in battle if he charges right for us, like he undoubtedly will,” Edwards said.

              “What makes you think that he’ll charge at us as fast as he can?”

              “For the simple fact that he is an idiot. His
victories
are only borne through throwing people at the solution. If his people start hearing about the conditions on Hachiro and Mars they will probably mutiny,” Edwards said.

              “Lees, you look like you have something to say,” the President said, his voice coming out in a sigh of exhaustion.

              “Sir, the
conditions
on Mars and Hachiro are a hell of a lot worse than we thought,” Brigadier General Lees said, he had been a Lieutenant Colonel before the Syndicate, he had served throughout that period and gained anti-aging treatments that made him look like the tanned Hawaiian of his youth.

              Edward’s grin was stopped stillborn as Lees’ hard eyes found him with anger in them.

              “For
us
,” he said, that hot anger falling from his eyes to his lips.

              Edwards made to speak but Lees didn’t allow him the opportunity.

              “The Commandos are not only damned good troops, but they’re better equipped than any military that I’ve ever seen, even our own before all of this. Their tech is better, and what’s more they know how to use it in ways that we haven’t even thought of. They are not thugs in powered armor, they are a full military that has ingrained their entire force with the ability to use power armor and weapons of all varieties. Their engineers in power armor are more than a match for our people. Their
Commandos
have benefitted from training so much in their powered armor that it is a second skin to them. They have had the best of our special forces personnel train them from
every
nation, and probably more than one planet. Their ripping their own station apart to get to grips with us. Though they’re not charging into any battles that might cost them dearly. Hachiro has a rate of three of our soldiers against one of theirs. On Mars it is closer to two, that said some of the trainees are not as good as their trained counterparts,
but
the people training them are the same people that trained the other Commandos,” he let that hang in the air, his eyes turning to the President.

              “So you’re saying that everything is lost?” The President said, still in a relaxed position but his eyes filled with a fire that Edwards took comfort in.

              “No I’m saying that this is going to cost us a lot more dearly than we thought it would. That’s not taking into account
if
Salchar or any more forces show up. We need to talk about taking our reserves and devoting them if we want this to succeed,” Lees said, knowing that the President wanted solutions, not just another reason why they couldn’t do something.

              The President sat up crossing his hands, looking to them thoughtfully.

              “Very well Brigadier Lees I agree. The information doesn’t seem to be as reliable as we hoped,” the President didn’t even look at Edwards who hid his grimace without so much as a twinge on his face. “But it looks like the end is…”

              “Mr. President another group of Free Fleet ships have emerged from wormholes. Our information is a few minutes late,” an Aide said, bursting into the room. The scathing remark on Edwards’ tongue disappeared as they moved to the room past their conference room and looked to the large screen that looked onto the star-system.

              “I thought that you said the Chaleelians
weren’t
coming,” Lees bit off while heading into the mass of people. He started barking orders at his section in the mass of bodies, heads perked up and set to work.

             

 

 

 

Chapter Crunch time

              Admiral Adam Russel looked over the plot, they were a day away from Hachiro and Mars below it. His people were on alert, he wondered if this was what sea-going navies of Earth had felt like when they were going through another’s unmarked waters.

              He had a grasp of how to use his ships, his people had trained with them extensively. They were the best crews that a Ship Commander and their Admiral could ask for.

              In the past couple of days, the Free Fleet had shown how space was their waters. Driving through the forces around Hachiro and pushing the ships onto Mars, and rescuing the carrier.

              Where a Ship Commander of old might not know where the shoals and eddies in an enemy’s waters might lay, they certainly did. The Free Fleet were at home in space and it had shown him how the thought of sea-going navies was a hindrance more than a help.

             
Though you’re not about to tell anyone that having something thinking like a Navy man is a bad idea.
He could think of what might happen if he told his Prime Minister that. He wasn’t as bad as the American President, but the British Prime Minister had
bragged
how his people should be leading Earth’s forces in space. They had a long history of victories as a traditional navy, why wouldn’t they be great in space?

              Space wasn’t curved like water, it was elastic. Threats could and would come from every direction at any time.

              He was staring at the main screen, his hands held behind him as that elastic playground released its latest creation.

              “We have a wormhole emergence to our front. Numbers and ship types are coming in,” Anthony Giles, the sensor officer said, training overpowering fear and confusion.

              Admiral Russel’s grey-almost white beard moved as he pursed his lips as if someone had something particularly interesting to him. His blue eyes focused on the screen as data updated, hiding the fear that had made eating meals a chore over the past few days.

             
Enough of that Adam, the enemy are here, now it’s time to figure out what to do with them.

              “I’m getting reports from the forces around Mars. The Jump fighters have shown themselves again and are hammering them. The ships around Hachiro are moving to Mars. I have a final count on the ships.” Even with the hustle, battle-stations being called, Giles’ voice cut through the command center. “There are fifty ships, and they’re carrying the Chaleelian contingent.”

              “Very Well Giles, thank you,” Russel said, his voice didn’t even quiver as he contemplated the map in front of him.

             
My one-hundred converts against fifty purpose-built warships with crews that are as good as mine would be if they were operating on the ocean.

              He had done the math and it was ugly, but surrendering was not a possibility. Doing so would not only have governments get retribution on him, he hardly thought about that, he had no family or anyone but the people that worked under him to care about.

              He saw Young Lieutenant Anthony Giles and his family being shamed, attacked and labelled as traitors.

             
What kind of battle is it that you’re going in, hoping to loss as little lives as possible, but enough that it makes surrendering look plausible?
He didn’t dare to try to answer that question.

              “It looks like the enemy has come to offer us battle. I want us to form up into a cone and drive through their position to Hachiro and our ships be…”

              “It looks like some of the forces are breaking off and heading towards Hachiro at their best speed, about fifteen of the ships. The rest are headed towards us,” Giles interrupted.

              Russel looked over those Free Fleet formations, their deadly precision, for patrolling units pulled from their rearguard duty to front-lines. It spoke a lot to their training and the people that made sure that they were ready for action at any time no matter what position that they officially held.

              It was not doing anything for the acid which was eating Admiral Russel from the inside.

              “That will increase our chances. Set the course and inform the rest of the fleet,” Admiral Russel said, remembering his training as an Admiral of Her Majesties Navy. None saw how his knuckles were white with pressure and his fingernails pressed into his hands painfully.

             

                                                                      ***

 

              “Wormhole formed and proceeding through event horizon,” Ben said, Milra guiding Resilient into her position at the peak of the formation.

              I pulled my helmet from the rack beside me and sealed it to my powered armor. There was no need for words.

              We appeared light years away from the position we had just been. Ship after ship came through that wormhole, not one of them more than ten kilometers off station. That showed skill that no one that had dealt with starships and wormholes would ever understand.

              We were an advancing wall right at the backs of the seventy Earth converts headed for the Chaleelian forces.

              “Ben, how long until we’re in engagement range?” I asked.

              “Two Hours,” he looked to Marleen, getting a terse nod from her.

              “Marleen?”

              “A bit closer would be nice to have a full broadside from every ship,” she said.

              “Two hours and fifteen minutes, that is if we can sustain bomb-pumped acceleration,” Ben warned, and it was a good warning. Resilient’s superstructure, her very spine groaned and complained against our treatment of her.

             
One last time.
I patted the armrest.

              “Very well, continue on.”

             

 

 

 

Chapter Space’s Forge

              “How are we looking Kashal?” Ursht asked funneling food into his face.

              “We’re still making advances into the station, the Chaleelian forces are on their way. Our ships are redeploying to Mars’ orbit against the original Mars and Hachiro attackers, as well as the force that attacked Elshurvum,” Kashal said, not needing to check notes or his data pad for the information.

              “That brings them to sixty-eight in Mars’ orbit,” Ursht said.

              “Sixty-five now,” Kashal said, a note of satisfaction creeping into his words.

              “I believe Wing Commander Greeshnakc will help revise those numbers,” Ursht said, meeting Kashal, sharing their hungry looks. “Order our people to pull back to the defensive positions as soon as they’re able to break off contact,” Ursht said, straightening.

              “Yes sir,” Kashal got to passing the orders.

              Ursht had been in the initial fighting, but as more Commandos had flooded into the station, lower commanders had pushed him back to the reinforcing Commandos that waited to bolster the front-line when they needed. Now those reinforcements held as the frontline pushed into the enemy, then turned and peeled back, moving past the second line and creating another line behind them.

              Ursht watched as Commandos ran past him, feeling their heavy footsteps making the decking shudder. It was the most organized retreat he had ever seen.

BOOK: From Furies Forged (Free Fleet Book 5)
7.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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