Homeworld: A Military Science Fiction Novel (28 page)

Then came Clarkson’s voice, sounding every bit the commander of men he was. “Citizens of the Earth Republic, both the bold battle hardened active Infantry and those who, though they have served their time in the field of war, have yet again answered the call to arms and volunteered your skill and bravery, we are about to engage the enemy of free citizens everywhere.

The last hope of defending and holding our home world lies with you. As I speak, a mighty battle rages overhead between the Earth Republic Fleet and the Coalition armada but they do not fight alone. Our new allies, the Darians, have joined us in common cause to eliminate the oppressive tyranny that the Coalition represents. However, they need our help to wipe the Coalition from our skies.

It is for this reason that we will go forth onto the field of battle to defend, once again, the principles that the Earth Republic represents, which are freedom, duty, and opportunity. We will defend these principles from those who would destroy them and we will wash away forever the tyrannical Coalition which has already brought its oppression to several of our fellow citizens on colonies spread throughout known space. For a great victory has already been won.

Mars flies the Republic’s flag once more, and that battle was won with the help of its brave citizens and remnants of the Defense Forces, who refused to surrender and fought on until they were relieved by reinforcements brought by our Fleet. It is a Fleet that is waiting to reinforce us here as soon as we can destroy every last Coalition vessel tainting our orbit.

This is why we fight and that is why we will win. Your task will not be an easy one but you are well-trained, well-armed, battle hardened soldiers who will defend the Republic with savage determination. You soldiers should know that I, who will fight alongside you, have full confidence in your devotion to duty, your courage, and your skill in combat.

May the Creator of all grant us victory this day. Good hunting and I will see you once again when the smoke clears.”

As Drake looked around at the assembled men assigned to take and hold the spaceport he saw determination in their faces as they checked their gear one last time or bowed their heads in a last silent prayer. There was none of the bloodlust and brash bravado he had grown so used to seeing amongst the Coalition troops he had destroyed so many worlds with. He knew then that he had been fighting on the wrong side of things all along. These men were not a barbarous horde waiting to destroy, rape and pillage. These men were soldiers fighting for a cause, for each other and for their home. Perhaps it was time to do a bit more killing after all but for a far worthier cause. A fire was rekindled inside Drake that he had not felt in a long, long time.

Booming Desperation

Drake leaned against the wall of the hotel lobby near a corner where he could just make out the spaceport if he leaned out to see it. His choice of places to stand put him next to the entrance to the lavatories and some of the Infantrymen had been filing in and out of them since the Admiral’s speech. Drake guessed the creator was looking down on these people because the building still had water pressure. Otherwise, they would have to deal with the acrid, acidic smell of whatever mush these men and women had for breakfast this morning.

The human body was a curious beast. It didn’t make these folks cowards for tossing their morning meal. He had seen it on the Coalition side just before battle as well. Some were doing it out of fear and some out of excitement and some just to get it out of the way before their body decided on which one it was. While Drake no longer felt the need to waste good food, even he still had an ever present taste of bile in the back of his throat before during and right after combat.

“Infantrymen,” bellowed the booming voice of Captain Faringo as he stood by the several sets of propped open doors leading out of the hotel lobby and onto the streets, “In about sixty seconds you’re going to hear one hell of an explosion. When you do, we leave this four star establishment and take back our spaceport! Is that understood?” Over one hundred voices called back in unison, “Yes sir!”

Drake figured that gave him plenty of time and lit up another smoke passing the pack to Ben who said, “If it’s all the same to you I’m going to stay right by your side as I figure that will be the best way to stay alive long enough to get those guns working at the spaceport.” Drake grinned as he lit Ben’s smoke and said, “Couldn’t think of a better man to have watching my back, Ben.”

The signal to charge came in the form of an explosion they could hear and feel as the earth rumbled underneath their feet the Infantry poured out of every building they had been hiding in. Over one thousand grey armored bodies thundered down the city streets in a wave of humanity as they raced for the spaceport.

Drake made sure he was one of the first out of the door. As he sprinted to reach the end of the street that led to the open ground between him and the spaceport, a good sixty feet ahead of the rest of the crowd, he pulled up to a stop. He prayed that if there were any snipers their aim would be off today. He raised his rifle and launched three grenades. The sound of the grenades leaving his launcher was the first note in what would be the cacophonous symphony of war. As the grenades exploded on impact with the ground in front hole in the wall, the Coalition had made during their last visit, the explosions set off a chain reaction. The ground all along the spaceport wall erupted into the air as explosion after explosion detonated the anti-personnel mines that the Coalitionists had laid down. When the civilian forces above him saw this from their vantage point on the roof, they started laying down mortar fire. Their mortar rounds quickly acted like mine sweepers as they cleared the ground in front of the charging Infantry. They also sent forth a hail dirt and gravel into the air that rained down on Infantrymen’s helmets as they now charged across the battle scarred land.

Drake scanned the top of the plasticrete walls surrounding the spaceport for any potential hostiles and was not surprised to see about a platoons worth of black armored bodies standing and staring in shock in the direction of their main force. Drake had snapped his rifle to his shoulder. He began thinning that number before he even realized he was doing so. Bullets and mortar rounds whizzed and whistled overhead as every rifle the Republicans could muster opened fire at the quickly falling bodies that seemed to be replaced by those now presenting less of a target as they crouched down. Nevertheless, the sheer amount of firepower coming their way made certain that they too fell.

In the calm that always overtook him in mass battle, Drake realized that Ben had just fallen backwards as he spun around to his right. Firing with one hand, he reached down with the other, grabbing hold of Ben, jerking him to his feet sparing a glance as he slapped in a fresh mag. He saw that the round had been stopped by Ben’s armor and they began charging forward once more.

The ground in front of them was chewed and churned from the effects of the mines and the mortars but the wave of Infantry was not slowed as the two platoons Drake and Ben had been assigned to rushed through the hole in the spaceport’s wall. There were still a few surviving Coalitionists to contend with as they ran through the port to the opposite wall and bullets flew in every direction as Infantryman and Coalition troopers fell, some to get back up, but some never to move again.

The surviving members of the platoons inside scrambled up the stairways and ramps that led up the opposing wall from which they had entered and took up positions of partial cover as they began to lay down fire across the field towards the enemy’s position.

Drake could see for the first time the damage that Ben’s improvised explosives had wrought. A huge dust cloud was quickly clearing from where the buildings had fallen but more than two buildings were demolished. The explosion from the methane blast had gone upwards and outwards through the three feet of earth and street it had lain under and had thrown the Coalition armor aside like children’s toys in its fury.

Then he heard thunder crack after thunder crack as the Bowman rushed around the spaceport and unleashed hell into whatever Coalitionists were still alive in that dust cloud. The bowman came to a stop, continuing to fire as the remaining Infantry formed up behind it to take advantage of the extra armor protection it would provide. Then as one, they set out across the field towards their enemy.

Drake continued to lay down fire, dropping mags onto the ground at his feet and slapping new ones in from his ammo pouch. His goal was not to direct accurate shots as he could not see anything on the ground yet since the dust had not settled from the initial blast nor the smaller blasts that the Bowman was kicking up with each thunderous roar of its main gun. His goal was to encourage whoever was downrange from his bullets to keep their heads down so that they couldn’t fire on the Infantry inbound to their position.

From his peripheral vision, Drake could see that the civilian volunteers were bolstering the line along the wall. Over three hundred men fought shoulder-to-shoulder, armored Infantryman and plain clothes civilian alike kept firing over their own troops and onto the enemy’s position. Drake slapped Ben on the shoulder and jerked his thumb backwards and the two disappeared into the spaceport.

Aboard the Bowman, the Admiral was yelling, “Soil the green earth of my home world will you? Then, I hope you like the sight of your own blood!” as he repeatedly fired. The Virtual Array of Ben’s “truck” allowed him to see through the dust cloud via thermal imaging and he fired again and again at clustered groups of Coalitionists. He only stopped firing when Miller pulled the vehicle to a stop as the Infantry swarmed around the Bowman and into the chaos to mop up the few groups of survivors that showed up on his HUD. He dropped down from the turret and quickly ordered, “Give me a closer view of the buildings behind this mess!” Miller quickly complied and they could see about one hundred and fifty thermal signatures two blocks away on the rooftops of multi-story buildings.

After the Bowman had stopped firing, the dust began to settle quickly. “Give me a normal view, if you would, Colonel.” Miller switched the V.A. to visible light and Clarkson saw old men, woman, and children right alongside those of fighting age firing down on Coalition positions. Some of them armed with no more than old hunting rifles. A smile spread across the admiral’s face as he said, “I think this battle is ours, gentlemen. Let’s get back to the spaceport and see to her defenses. I bet you a brewery’s worth of beer that our little ruckus here didn’t go unnoticed by these corpse’s friends. Flag the positions of those civilians as friendly and let’s get underway.”

A Really Big Sling Shot

For five long hours, the battle had raged and there was no victor. The drifting remains of ships from both sides of this conflict and the crews who manned them were becoming a hazard of navigation. While the magnetic arrays of most capital shifts could shove aside a lot, they could not shove aside over half of a Battle Cruiser, not to mention the minefields that were now where the Coalition’s Super Dreadnaughts had fought their last battle.

Even though all of this massive loss of life and equipment drifted through the silent vacuum of space, neither side would surrender nor back down. Through attrition alone, it was becoming clear who was going to be the victor in this conflict as the former Coalition armada now a Coalition fleet still greatly outnumbered the allied forces of Darian and Republican.

The Darian fleet carriers had not gone down without a fight but they just weren’t equipped for the all-out slug fest that this battle had turned out to be. Though Admiral Casa of the Republic fleet had done as much as he could to protect their lighter armored hulls, it seemed that they were bound and determined to avoid his attempts at assistance and they maneuvered to face the enemy head on. Before they were added to the floating junk heap in near earth space, they had shown what fierce determination could do to Coalition vessels with their new and powerful beam weapons. Casa only wished that the First Warlord had not boarded one of the smaller Darian attack fighters. Maybe he could have been more open to the wisdom of taking advantage of what each side had to offer in this fight. The Darians had superior firepower while the Republic Fleet had superior armament.

“Perhaps as long as I’m wishing, I could have wished for six months to drill together so that this attack would not have been so haphazard,” Admiral Casa mused as he injected his third stim. He had been on the bridge of the Athena for the entire bloody battle. While he had his crews on first on one hours rotation and then on thirty minute rotations as the battle raged on, no human brain could give the amount of focus and attention necessary not to make a mistake under these very stressful situations for long. He had no one he trusted to leave the bridge to. So he had just called down to the infirmary and ordered stims and then the galley and ordered hot coffee. Next, he made a call to the quartermaster to order a pack of cigars. That had served him well thus far and his wit seemed to him, and his fleet, to be as sharp as ever.

Casa called down to his “Pit Boss” Lieutenant Simmons of the Engineering Monitoring Station, “Are the aft launchers operational yet?” Simmons answered without looking up from his station where he and every other member of the Athena’s engineering crew were doing the best to ensure that she stayed space worthy. They had restored atmosphere to several key decks during this long fight and time and time again reinforced bulkheads to improve armor capability. They had also, and Creator only knew how, kept bringing the weapons systems that stubbornly kept dying back to life. “Sir, we just restored functionality to two of the aft Leap Frog launchers and one third of aft Ceramics. Give us another five minutes with no more hits to that section, and we should have a third Leap Frog for you. Also, sir, engine functionality is back up to seventy five percent and climbing as repair continues.”

Admiral Casa was amazed at how much this man could do all at once. Sure he was keeping himself apprised of the overall tactical situation and making sure that the Athena gave as good as she got, but Pit Boss Simmons was one of the best. If they survived this, he would be the first of many that he would recommend for a promotion. If they survived this mess, Casa mused as he checked the tactical display on the Virtual Array.

The admiral in charge of the Republic Fleet did not like what he saw. Every scenario that his brilliant tactical mind could come up with came to a bitter end. Still he was not the kind to turn tail and run because of a little thing like impending doom. “Where are you, Clarkson?” He wondered, not for the first time. They needed his help soon or never.

“Sir, the Nesune reports that their main reactor has failed again,” one of the two ensigns he had assigned to Communications reported.

He had assigned two to the job that would usually be done by one. Because with the codes and frequencies that Clarkson and the remnants of the Republic Infantry below had somehow managed to acquire, meant that if he was only to have one com officer on duty, then that officer would be in charge of listening to the whole of the battle as captains and admirals shouted orders back and forth and between three fleets. That was just too much for one human to handle efficiently. His second com officer the young male blond haired ensign sitting next to his female counterpart called out, “The Harrington has just ordered two cruisers in to finish her off, sir.”

Admiral Casa checked the tactical display. The Nesune was in near earth orbit when her reactor failed. It had been a tricky thing keeping her going, to hear their captain tell it, due to massive damage inflicted upon it by a close hit of enemy Ceramics. However, the Nesune was a Battle Fortress and he needed her in this fight. In a millisecond, Casa had analyzed all this and he saw as well that the Athena was the only ship that could make it to the Nesune with enough time to defend her and to keep her from getting blown out of the sky.

“Helmsman, move to support the Nesune, flank speed. Launch all available armament at those two cruisers once we get within range. We’ve got to draw their fire away from the Nesune in order to keep her in this fight,” Casa ordered his voice still firm and unshaken however inside he was thinking. “Without those Coalition communication codes we’d have been dead two hours ago but even with them we’ll be dead two hours hence.”

He also knew he was taking a hell of a risk right now by moving to defend the Nesune. He was leaving his aft section exposed to attack by at least two ships he could anticipate right now but probably others. He felt confident that with the repairs the crews had made that he could take one maybe two good hits on that section but that was not the only risk he was taking by exposing the Athena like this. If the flagship fell, it would probably not be long before the rest of the ships thought the better part of valor would be to fall back and regroup elsewhere, but they would never have a better shot at it than this. “Communications, see if you can get our Darian friends to send a few dozen craft to harass the cruisers inbound on the Nesune until we can get in to defend her.”

Swerth, his female com officer acknowledged and relayed the message, “The Darian commander said they would relish the opportunity to display their prowess in battle for the Republic, sir.”

The Helmsman acknowledged, “Three dozen Darian fighters have broken off from their attack swarms and are moving to intercept.”

The admiral couldn’t help smiling. He was glad that the Darians were on their side. He had not been alive during the Darian Human Contact War, but in those early days of fighter to fighter assaults, his people must have been cut to shreds just as the Coalition fighters who had dared to engage them had been.

Whereas, the Coalition fighters traveled in fighter groups, the Darians usually attacked all by their lonesome forcing those who were used to relying on combined firepower and support to have to break off and fight their losing battles in the stars single-handedly against their Darian counterparts. The only time the Darian’s fighters fought in great numbers is when they attacked a capital ship and that ship was forced to decide which ship to fire at and when and their superior maneuverability kept the Coalition battleships from wiping them out of the sky. All the while, the Darian fighters would be inflicting minor damage by themselves but great damage as a whole. Admiral Casa was beginning to understand their strategy and he believed by understanding that, the Darians themselves.

Johansen, his male com officer barked out, “Sir, a Battle Fortress has just been ordered to break off their pursuit of the Oblivion and move to intercept from our aft side!”

“Weapons Officer, launch all functional aft Leap Frogs! Give them something to chew on,” Casa barked as he turned to his head to the communication duty stations. “Com Officer Swerth, order the Oblivion to come about and cover our aft!”

“Sir, the Oblivion has just been engaged by three cruisers. They report they are unable to render assistance at this time.” The Oblivion was one of his remaining Battle Fortresses and should make light work of three mere carriers but in combat, even as one as long as this, every second counted as he desperately tried to give Clarkson’s men on the ground the opportunity to deliver that miracle they had been promised.

Admiral Casa found himself looking at his Helmsman with a warm smile a smile Helmsman Malkini had come to dread. “Helmsman, I need a miracle or we’re all dead men,” Casa said, drumming his fingers on his chair as he saw before Com Officer Johansen told him, “Sir, yet another battleship and three cruisers have just been ordered to break of their present engagements and join in the assault on the Athena.

Their aft armor, even with the repairs his engineers had managed to effect, would not be able to stop that much firepower. Casa knew it was a risk going in to aid the Nesune and he was proving himself right. Helmsman Malkini had spent her entire seven year career with the Republic Fleet at the admiral’s helm and she knew that when he asked for a miracle he wouldn’t mind a little, potentially, suicidal creativity.

So after a deep breath, she suggested, “Sir, we are moving at flank sped and are almost upon the Nesune. Now as we sweep past the Nesune, I could go for a gravity assist and swing around the planet at incredibly fast speed presenting them our fore battery. But in order to accomplish it with the speed necessary to save both ourselves and the Nesune, we are going to have to go in very close to the atmosphere.” The admiral grinned and bumped the armrest of his command chair with his fist. “I knew there was a reason the Fleet was paying your salary, Malkini!”

“Weapons Officer, launch all fore Leap Frogs at those two cruisers as we get within range. Then inform you boys that they’d better reload double time because then we’re going to be facing a small battle group.”

“Com officer Swerth, inform the Darians of our intentions and that the cruisers they are currently swarming could be providing a navigation hazard in a few moments. Also be so kind as to let them know that we’re bringing company along behind us if they’d care to give them a warm welcome.” Case leaned back in his chair and strapped in his safety harness. With his left index finger, he tapped his vid, opening up the ship wide com channel, “All hands, this is the admiral. Strap yourselves down or hold onto something tight as we’re about to try a Malkini.” He closed the channel with a grin that his Helmsman could feel if not see.

The crew had come to know that a “Malkini Manuever” might save all of their lives or it might send them all into the beyond. All across the bridge, she could hear the sound of harness buckles being fastened as she thought, “Thanks for the vote of confidence, guys.”

Weapons Officer Beson called, “All fore Leap Frogs away. Crews are beginning to reload now at double time.”

“Understood, Beson, now when the good creator with Malkini’s assistance brings us around the planet to face those bastards, I want everything we have firing as fast as it can at that battle group. You choose the best target and don’t wait for my order to fire,” Casa said tightening his grip with both hands on his armrest. “Understood, sir,” the unshakeable voice of his Weapons Officer came.

The planet that they all called home, whether they had been born there or not, loomed large on the Virtual Array. Casa noticed with satisfaction on the tactical display that the two cruisers which had been moving to finish of the Nesune were now only so much floating debris. He also smiled as the surviving Darian fighter moved to close with a Coalition battle group with at least two Battle Fortresses as if they had just been invited over for a beer and a ball game.

These Darians were a brave lot. “Let’s see if they were as brave as Malkini here,” he said, gazing off to the side of his Helmsman so she would not have to bear him staring at the back of her head. There would be no risk of such a maneuver as Malkini had suggested if the Athena didn’t weigh as much as a small moon. If she weighed as much as a few kilograms then they needn’t worry at all as this sort of thing happened all the time in the solar system and when things went wrong most objects would just be burnt up by the friction of earth’s atmosphere.

However, if the Athena’s trajectory were off by just enough, they wouldn’t have to worry about the space battle or the ground battle that was being waged for Earth because they would cause a mass extinction event when they crashed into the surface of the planet. So he was not surprised when he looked down and saw the pit crew double and triple checking Malkini’s trajectory, but he had full confidence or he never would have ordered such a maneuver.

The small blue marble was turning under them now at tremendous speeds. Even with the inertial dampeners of the Athena, he felt just a bit like he was on an old carnival ride like the one they used to have on the colony he lived when he was a kid as he felt the g force increase pushing his body to the right.

Then the Battle fortresses were in sight and thousands of ceramics and dozens of Leap Frogs were sent slamming into them and the rest of the Coalition ships in their path. Casa let out a “Whoop!” of joy as one after the other let loose with violet Jump Core explosions or various colors of plasma as they disintegrated in front of the Athena’s onslaught.

“Admiral sir, we just lost the Laissez-faire and the Keynsian along with their accompanying cruisers,” called the Harrington’s helmsman. As Admiral Watkins silently fumed at the losses, he also couldn’t help but congratulate the strategic maneuver of his Republican opponent aboard what was left of the Republic Fleet’s flagship.