Galactic Empire Wars: Insurrection (The Galactic Empire Wars Book 5) (18 page)

Walking over
to the far end he concentrated and his neural implant raised the visor on his
helmet. He looked down at the man on the bed.

“Colonel
Winfrey,” spoke Commander Greer in a weak voice.

“Commander,”
Dylan responded. “How are you feeling?”

“Like the ship
fell on me,” answered Greer, forcing a weak smile. “The damn doctors won’t tell
me much. How many of my command crew survived?”

Dylan shook
his head. “The entire ship’s heavily damaged. We lost a lot of people in the
landing. We’re lucky any of us are alive.”

Greer was
silent for several long moments. Dylan thought the commander had fallen back to
sleep but then he spoke again.

“This was a
good crew. I suspect I’ll be joining them soon.”

“We all may
be,” Dylan said with a sigh. “The Zaltule are landing their assault ships and
some other small vessels from their battlecruisers. We’ll soon be engaged in
heavy fighting.”

“Assault
ships,” mumbled Commander Greer, his voice barely audible.

Dylan heard
Greer say something else but it was so quiet he couldn’t understand it. Leaning
closer, he asked Greer to repeat it.

With his lips
barely moving, Commander Greer explained to Dylan what needed to be done.

Dylan stood
back up, his eyes showing their stunned admiration. “Crap,” he said. “Why
didn’t I think of that?” Turning, he rushed from the med bay.

-

In orbit,
Minor Overlord Matol watched the ship’s viewscreens expectantly. He was sending
down all ten assault ships so he could take advantage of the conscripts on
board. They would be used as cannon fodder against the Human fortifications.
Once they had been expended, he would send his Zaltule warriors in. Each
warrior was encased in a Type Three battlesuit and would be more than a match
for the Humans. He was disappointed the stun beams from the assault cruiser had
failed to incapacitate them. There was no doubt many of the Humans would die in
the coming attack, but his warriors had strict orders to capture as many of
them as possible.

Standing upon
the Command Pedestal, his multifaceted eyes gazed at the viewscreens and the
descending ships. He had all of his battlecruisers on full alert. A small Human
warship had been detected in the far outskirts of the system earlier. He had
sent several of his battlecruisers to investigate, but it had entered Fold
Space before his ships could get there. He suspected the Humans might be
contemplating an attempted rescue of their trapped brethren down on the planet.
If they did, it would give him the opportunity to destroy the rest of their
fleet.

What the
Humans didn’t know was that three more Zaltule fleets were in transit in Fold
Space. The first of those fleets would arrive within the next three hours. The
farthest fleet coming to Lymeth Three was none other than War Overlord Tetus.
Matol hoped the battle would be over by then so the glory of the victory over
the Humans would be his.

-

The ten
assault ships landed around the periphery of the spaceport on the blastcrete.
Hatches opened and from each ship eighty conscripts in hulking Type Two
battlesuits disembarked and began making their way toward the entrenched
Humans. A few moments later, a number of smaller vessels landed and from these
emerged the Zaltule in their Type Three battlesuits. Very shortly the battle
for control of the spaceport would begin in earnest.

-

Colonel
Winfrey called a quick meeting with his three captains. What Commander Greer
had suggested to him was still fresh on his mind. “Captain Taylor, I want you
to take a full platoon of Type Four battlesuits and try to capture one of the
Kleese assault ships.”

“A Kleese
assault ship?” Captain Foster said, sounding confused. She was in a Type Three
command suit. “What good will that do?”

“We can load
our people on it,” Colonel Winfrey said. “It has an energy shield and just
maybe we can get far enough out of the planet’s atmosphere to enter Fold Space.
It’ll be crowded, but we can manage for a short time.”

“The Zaltule will
only shoot it down before it gets high enough,” objected Taylor. “I would
rather die here on the planet fighting back.”

“In all the
confusion, the Zaltule might not realize we’ve seized the assault ship,”
Winfrey quickly explained. “Captain Stern will take a platoon of Marines in
Type Three battlesuits along. The Type Threes are similar enough to the Type
Twos that the crew of the assault ship might not realize it’s not their
conscripts returning until it’s too late.”

Captain Taylor
pondered the colonel’s suggestion for a few moments before finally replying.
“It’s a risk, but I don’t know what else we can do.”

“Pick your
Marines and get moving. We don’t have a lot of time.”

-

Colonel
Winfrey watched as Captain Taylor and Captain Stern moved out. They were going
to try to thread their way through the approaching conscripts and Zaltule. If
they had any hope of making it, they would need some help and he knew just
where that help would come from.

“All hover
tanks, I want a barrage of explosive rounds fired five hundred meters out and
then continuous overlapping fire in increasing twenty-meter increments.”

This would put
the rounds directly in front of the two Marine platoons and might just generate
enough confusion to allow them to make it to the assault ship undetected. He
knew if they failed, they were all doomed to die on the spaceport. Colonel
Winfrey had already decided the Zaltule were not going to take his Marines
captive. He had rigged two suit nukes to detonate inside the
Defender
upon his command. The resulting explosion would annihilate everything within
five hundred meters of the ship.

-

Sergeant Phil
Dawson gripped his RG rifle in his armored hands ready to fire. He was standing
behind a makeshift wall of large crates and machinery the Marines had piled up
to give them some protection.

“Keep your ass
down, Sergeant Dawson,” Captain Foster said over the command channel.

“It’s Kleese
time,” Phil responded as he aimed his rifle at the distant conscripts coming
toward them.

Nicole shook
her head. Dawson, like many of the other Marines, wanted a crack at the Zaltule
in combat.

It was at that
moment the hover tanks began firing their explosive rounds. Massive explosions
suddenly erupted in front of the oncoming conscripts, bringing their advance to
a halt. They hesitated and then the next barrage came down right on top of
them. Suits were blown apart as the deadly rounds detonated. The conscripts
died by the dozens, but there were nearly eight hundred of them. Several more
explosive barrages landed and then the explosions began going off behind them,
close to the advancing Zaltule.

“Hit them with
suit explosive rounds!” ordered Captain Foster, seeing the conscripts were
milling around demoralized from the hover tank bombardment.

Sergeant
Dawson didn’t hesitate and began launching his rounds as rapidly as he could
find a target. The confused conscripts were dying in droves as the nearly four
hundred Marines in battlesuits let loose with an earth-shattering barrage.
Smoke began to blot out the sun and even a few fires were burning where
buildings had been hit. But now the conscripts were close enough to begin
returning fire. RG rounds and even a few energy beams began to search for and
find the Marines in their battlesuits.

Sergeant
Foster groaned as she saw a number of green icons on her HUD turn amber and
then red. Then, suddenly, explosions began going off around the Marines’
positions. She knew instantly it was the Zaltule firing off explosive rounds
from their battlesuits. The battle had just taken on a much more dangerous and
ominous tone. She saw several rounds strike the defensive barricades and a
number of Marines go down.

An explosive
round hit close to Nicole, blowing a large gaping hole in the defensive wall
she was standing behind. Another icon on her HUD turned from green to red.
Feeling ill, she looked to her left at the mangled Type Three battlesuit lying
prone on the ground. It was Private Jacob Carter and he had been part of her
platoon for a long time. Taking a deep breath, she looked out across the
blastcrete at the enemy.

Pointing her
RG rifle at the advancing conscripts and Zaltule, she took careful aim and
fired. With satisfaction, she saw a conscript fall. Switching targets, she
began laying down a withering hail of fire in the enemy’s direction.

-

Colonel
Winfrey was watching the battle from inside the
Defender
. He had gone
back inside to use the few functioning viewscreens so he could better direct
the fight. With a grimace, he saw two of his hover tanks explode in fiery
blasts as Zaltule explosive rounds took them out. The battle was becoming more
intense as the Zaltule became more involved. If something didn’t change
quickly, his Marines were in danger of being overrun.

Using one of
the viewscreens, he zoomed in on the assault ship Captain Taylor and Captain
Stern were nearing. With satisfaction, he saw them suddenly rush up the ship’s
ramp and vanish into its interior. He couldn’t believe it, but it looked as if
Commander Greer’s suggestion to capture an assault ship was actually going to
work.

“Sergeant
Dawson,” he said over the command channel. “Come back to the ship with your
squad. I need you to escort some crew personnel over to the assault ship in
case we actually get to fly it out of here.”

“On my way,” Dawson answered. “But, sir, there’s a lot of conscripts and Zaltule between us and the
ship.”

Before Dylan
could reply the engineer he had been speaking to earlier came into the Command Center. “Sir, I have two of the railgun turrets activated. We’re robbing the power
from the med bay. They’ll only function for about thirty seconds.”

“That will
do,” Dylan said with a wolfish grin. He looked over where an ensign was sitting
at the tactical console. “Can you fire the railguns?”

“I think so,
sir,” the ensign replied nervously. “I’ve been trained to, but I’ve never
actually done it.”

Dylan opened
his suit visor and smiled at the young man. “Just do as you were trained and
you’ll do fine.” Dylan pointed toward the assault ship that Captain Taylor and
Captain Stern had gone into. “See that assault ship, I need you to eliminate
all the conscripts and the Zaltule between us and there when I give the order.”

“Yes, sir,”
gulped the young man as he began hesitantly to press buttons and controls on
the console in front of him. “I’m setting up a thirty-second controlled fire
that will sweep back and forth between us and the assault ship.” It took the
ensign several nerve-wracking minutes to finish and then he turned toward the
colonel. “I’m ready, sir.”

“Sergeant
Dawson, I have a little surprise for the Zaltule, have you made it back to
where the crewmembers are waiting?”

“Yes, sir,” Dawson answered. “We can leave when you give the order.”

“I have two
railgun turrets that I’m going to use to clear you a path. When they begin
firing, get your ass to that assault ship.”

“Yes, sir,” Dawson replied.

Dylan nodded
and turned toward the ensign sitting nervously at the tactical console. “Fire!”

-

On the broken
hull of the
Defender
,
two twin railgun turrets rotated into
position and then began firing. Explosions racked the advancing conscripts and
Zaltule, blowing huge holes in the blastcrete. The conscripts and Zaltule died
by the dozens as the powerful rounds blew them apart. It was a slaughter, as
not even the Zaltule in their Type Three suits were impervious to rounds
designed to take out entire buildings. The kinetic energy released by the
rounds was minuscule compared to what would have occurred if they had been
fired from orbit, but the explosive force was still powerful enough to make the
section of the spaceport the rounds were aimed at disappear in a series of
massive blasts. Dark gray smoke and occasional flames leaped into the air,
obscuring the carnage.

-

On one of the
viewscreens, Colonel Winfrey saw Sergeant Dawson and his eight Marines
escorting the twenty crew personnel who would operate the systems on the
assault ship move out and head toward the now decimated enemy line. It was at
that moment that the railguns stopped firing.

“That’s it,
sir,” the ensign at the tactical station said regretfully. “There’s not enough
power left to operate them anymore.”

Dylan nodded.
“You did a good job, son.” He looked around at the six people still in the Command Center. “Let’s go; we’re getting out of here. “Captain Foster, fall back to the
Defender
and help with getting the injured out of the ship. We’re leaving.”

-

Minor Overlord
Matol stared in disbelief at a viewscreen. It showed a major portion of the
spaceport had been devastated. It was covered in smoke and fire. “What just
happened?” he demanded.

“The Humans
activated several railgun turrets on their ship,” the Zaltule at the tactical
station reported.

“Many of our
warriors died,” added the Zaltule at Communications.

“Overlord,”
the Zaltule at the sensor console said, turning toward Matol. “I’m picking up
inbound ships in Fold Space.”

“The Humans!”
Matol said harshly. “They come to rescue their brethren.” Matol gazed at the
smoke covered spaceport on the screen. He knew that hundreds of conscripts had
been killed as well as numerous Zaltule. He had suddenly lost interest in
capturing the Humans. He looked back at the Zaltule in front of Tactical.
“Target the Human ship at the spaceport with a pulse fusion beam. I want it
destroyed.”

The Zaltule
hesitated. “A pulse fusion beam is not designed to be used in a planet’s
atmosphere. It will destroy a major portion of the spaceport and kill many of
our warriors.”