Koban 4: Shattered Worlds (11 page)

“Can’t they do that mod on Heavyside as well?”

“Probably, but I don’t want that. We are offering them Koban citizenship, along with becoming a Kobani. They need to see what the true home of the Kobani is like, and where their non-human genes originated. Heavyside offers nothing but 1.41 times Earth’s gravity to test them. I want them to see and mingle with rippers and wolfbats, to go on a rhinolo hunt, see whiteraptors stalking prey, observe our dinosaurs on Jura continent, and even those goofy moosetodons and smelly yaks. Discovering the place where your genes have designed you to live will, I believe, make Koban their home in their heart, or at least make it a second home.”

“Well the Falcon is ready to go when you say, Sir.”

“Rafe’s technicians have prepared the viral injectors on a med lab that we’ll place aboard your ship. It already has Henry’s biometrics programed into it for him, assuming he didn’t put on any more weight. The refrigerated vials are in a portable case, and the twenty spec ops have their duffels packed. I’m ready to launch in two hours. We can meet in orbit for the tow.

“The Mark has more room, so most everyone will be staying there for the Jump. With the Falcon docked with us, you can sleep in your own bunk and cross over when you feel ready to lose at poker for the eight nights we’ll be in the Hole.”

“Is Thad going?”

“Yes indeed. He wants to harass Henry when he climbs in the med lab.”

“Then I’ll play poker with you each night. He’ll make up for any losses I have with you if you get lucky. I hope ‘momma’ didn’t take away his poker allowance.”

The comment about Marlyn limiting Thad’s poker money was a running joke. In reality, the only people Thad seemed to lose with regularly were Tet and Sarge, and sometimes Haveram. It was a low stakes friendly game anyway, and Thad’s tells grew more obvious the more relaxed he was and having fun. They always made sure he had fun.

****

The Jump to Poldark was tedious for Telour, even though he mentally rehearsed his presentation for the Mordo clan war leader, Pendor. The offer of a specific reward, and Pendor’s expected means of repayment were each designed to tempt the Gatlek. Telour had observers placed on the staff in the Gatlek’s bunker complex, and knew that he craved a role in initiating a larger invasion on a new planet, with the challenge of establishing a foothold in virgin enemy territory. That sort of achievement was an opportunity for earning a place in the histories by name, and not just for your clan.

Telour, satisfied with the inducements he would offer, guarded by the blackmail protections he built into the plan, he joined his clan mates for the Krall equivalent of war stories.

Sharing battle stories, strategies and tactics, and bragging about when and where their status points were earned, comprised almost half of a Krall’s conversation with a non-clan member. Repeating favorite passages from the Krall histories, particularly of one’s own clan was another.

In private, with one’s clan mates, internal politics was a common topic, and snorting stories of inept combat performances, or amusing deaths observed of warriors from other clans were entertaining. Telour was adept at grasping bits, pieces, and threads of discontent, by bringing up subjects he wanted to gain a sense of how sore a particular subject was with other leaders and sub leaders. He was convinced that the majority of his clan, and of many others, were of the “scream and charge” persuasion, concerning punishing humans for their recent audacity in attacking their production worlds.

Personally, Telour was not a proponent of that method of retaliation, but he knew it was popular. He could use that feeling to his advantage, if a particular roadblock to his rise to power were removed. Use what the majority wanted to do as a means to gain his desired results.

He joined in with his underlings, feeling them out, and sharing tales of human kills and of unique and unusual methods of dispatching a human, which were satisfying, and educational. After all you couldn’t clean your weapons, exercise, and sharpen talons and teeth all of the time.

The general dissatisfaction, sensed vaguely even among the Tor Gatrol’s supporters, convinced him his goal was achievable. He was eager for the White Out, to arrive at Poldark and turn his ambitious new plan into action. It would make his repeatedly outwitting Parkoda seem like the work of a novice. His opponent this time was surely more formidable than that dead Tanga clan sub leader. He was looking forward to his victory and even a respectable and honorable death if he failed.

****

The Mark of Koban made its White Out a couple of hundred thousand miles from Bezel, a Saturn sized, lightly ringed gas giant planet in the Poldark system.

Mirikami joined Captain Haveram on the Falcon’s smaller Bridge, accompanied by Thad Greeves. The ten spec ops TG2’s, assigned to lead infiltration teams on Poldark, stowed their gear and flopped down on what was to them luxurious acceleration couches on the Falcon. One thing could be said when traveling as a Kobani, a semi civilian fighting force. You were treated much better than human cargo when on a PU Navy transport. Both groups offered good food, however the exotic rhinolo, yak, and moosetodon steaks had a wild allure the navy couldn’t possibly match.

The medical technicians, TG2’s themselves, were nevertheless intimidated by the casual acceptance of violence by the soldiers. They gained Mind Tap knowledge of many people’s combat experiences, including some of the spec ops, but by inclination science and technology was their expression of control over the universe. No matter that they were physically capable of kicking the ass of any Normal they met, it would not occur to them to test that theory unless provoked.

Mind Taps had improved the technician’s knowledge of the details of genetic manipulation, and the rapid access to retrieve efficiently stored data made them seem much brighter than average. However, it was a bit like smoke and mirrors. A matter of perception.

Original thought and flashes of sudden insight were still more prevalent from the minds of trained scientists than that of the average Kobani. Not that any TG2 couldn’t display sparks of seeming genius at times, in areas where they had specialized knowledge. Such as a technician, suddenly figuring out what was wrong with a complex piece of equipment, based on their knowledge of how it normally worked, and what it did or didn’t do when it malfunctioned. They pulled in recollections of trouble shooting manuals they had read.

A scientist that knew what a piece of equipment did wouldn’t necessarily know how it did what it did, or be able to repair it quickly. Nor did they need to know. Many Normals had a tendency to see any TG2 as almost a genius at times, confusing quick retrieval of large volumes of stored data with the ability to comprehend and innovate using that data, to discover something new and previously unknown.

The Falcon uncoupled, moved away from the Mark a safe distance, and performed a micro Jump inwards towards Poldark. Immediately on White Out, the Falcon was positioned in a heavily protected position in the the Lagrange orbital point, called L1, between Poldark and its fortified moon. This was the designated arrival area for civil transports destined for landing on Poldark.

They were under the guns, so to speak, of the planetary defense forces, but also had some concentrated protection from attacks by clanships here. There were rail guns and missile platforms trained on this region and others that were aimed outwards. You had better be “friendly” if you made your exit from a Jump here, and if you were, you had increased protection from passing clanships that could be departing from or landing at the ever-growing conquered territory on the surface.

Haveram emerged with his recognition codes broadcasting, identifying the ship as having a special exempt status granted by the planetary commander of the PU Army. That didn’t mean they were exempt from a close up inspection by a heavy navy cruiser. It launched three armed auxiliaries to circle them closely, and Haveram had to provide a video feed of his Bridge, and send his live retinal pattern, which was on file as belonging to the owner/operator of the Falcon. Without the retinal pattern, they would be subject to an inspection team coming aboard. Instead, they were allowed to move over to one side of L1, waiting for someone from General Nabarone’s staff to vouch for them, and to designate or approve a specific landing area.

To the surprise of the captain of the cruiser, and the lunar base watch stander, the approving authority proved to be General Nabarone himself.

“Good evening Captain Haveram. I presume you wish to land at…,” he broke off as he saw Tet and Thad in the background. He’d been about to approve Haveram’s landing at a civilian port, which the Falcon had used previously.

“Ah…, on second thought, I think I’d like you to land at the Caldron. I’ll send someone over to meet you there. I assume you know the coordinates?”

Haveram smiled, “Thank you General, I do know where that is. I’m looking forward to meeting with your representative.”

The Caldron was the name that had been given to a Special Ops training facility, built inside an extinct volcanic crater. It had a large canvas cover, rigged so that it could be pulled across the opening to block surveillance of the crater bottom from space or aerial observation. The representative that would meet them would certainly be Nabarone himself, and probably one or more of his staff. As soon as he saw Mirikami and Greeves on the bridge of the Falcon, he suspected the purpose of the visit, but wanted to greet his friends in any case.

The captain of the navy cruiser recalled its auxiliaries, and the moon base’s watch commander approved their leaving the L1 region. They were accompanied down by the cruiser, this time definitely there for their protection. The Falcon made its entry into the upper atmosphere as the cruiser pulled up to a higher orbit, still providing protective coverage.

Suddenly there was a rushed broadcast from the cruiser’s captain. “Captain Haveram, four Krall clanships just made a White Out well away from your position. Complete your descent quickly and you’ll be fine. We’ve been redirected to try to intercept the enemy.”

“Good luck sir, and thanks.” Haveram replied.

“If he goes after four alone he’ll need more than luck,” Mirikami commented.

Haveram, having been here several times now, knew more about the defenses. “I think because of your raids, the Krall have slowed the number of penetrations here, because there have been fewer supply missions in the last two months. The PU navy has found some of the backbone they lost after that Eight Ball blasted Rhama. They have recently moved thirty of their new heavy cruisers here. They’re willing to try to mix it up with single clanships. I didn’t think the Krall were sending four at once any more. This must be something out of the ordinary.”

****

Telour’s clanship mission commander coordinated with the other three clanships, to perform their joint White Outs at just barely higher than one hundred fifty miles, centered over the Poldark continent the Krall had nearly taken over. They had recently built a ten-mile radius ring of sixty-four heavy plasma batteries, as a defense for arriving clanships.

This sort of defensive position was a source of friction and annoyance for the freewheeling flight style that Krall pilots had been accustomed to using. The thrill of successfully running the human gauntlet had been taken away. Merely because one or two percent of such operations led to significantly damaged craft, and one out of two hundred were lost. The need to preserve clanships was the reason for this, and sacrificing risk taking for material preservation ran contrary to Krall instincts. They normally cared
nothing
for property or territory, only personal weapons and their earned status points.

The humans had recently restored some of the penetration excitement, primarily because of the reduced number of clanship landings and departures. They had brought in a squadron of heavily armed and armored ships, which were a close match with clanship firepower. They couldn’t match the accelerations of a clanship, but their performance in that area had clearly improved. They had proceeded cautiously at first, possibly worried about the injunction not to attack their base of Telda Ka, or K1 as humans called it, from space with their fleets.

The enemy forces on Poldark didn’t appear to realize that the hammer weapons, used to punish Rhama the last time their fleet was involved, no longer existed. Perhaps they suspected the Krall had another source for those collapsed matter balls. Their only use of their navy was defensive, and was limited to multiple squadrons around the space near Poldark, which could combine to form a limited task force, where all of the ships were of the same type.

Examination of the wreckage of a number of the new ships, which the humans called heavy cruisers, revealed how they had increased the accelerations the crews were able to tolerate. They wore a gel-filled type of body armor, which was itself firmly secured to their battle stations. Lacking personal mobility in combat, the smaller number of crew were the decision makers, and they directed the actions of the much faster reacting computers, which actually fired the weapons, and maneuvered the ship per the captain’s instructions, or followed a task force leader’s group battle plan.