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“Companies A and C, this is Colonel Teller.” He spoke deliberatively and firmly but, in truth, he was a little shaken up by the capabilities of these enemy war machines. It was bad enough dealing with it in the field here and now, but the thought of the CAC or Caliphate fielding power like this across Alliance space was terrifying. “Begin withdrawal by odds and evens…100 meter intervals.”

They’d already been badly hurt. He could tell that much from his tactical display. He couldn’t even guess how many would make it down to the shoreline…probably not many. The bombardment was getting heavier…and closer…and he ducked behind a large rock outcropping.

Though they had been driven from position after position, his people had managed some successes too. They had inflicted heavy losses on the enemy, and they had collected massive amounts of data – video, scanner readings…even salvaged parts of destroyed robots. It would be invaluable to the high command in studying the enemy…assuming he could get it to them. But that was out of his hands. It all depended on Admiral West.

Teller knew the basics of the plan, but he had no idea if and when West would actually attack. For that matter, he had no idea what ships the enemy had in orbit and around the planet. The orbital scanners and satellites were the first things to go, and with them Teller lost his eyes.

It looked like the retreating companies had casualties over 50%, but at least they were close to the beach. With any luck they’d all be of the mainland in 20 minutes. “Keep it moving, Marines!” Teller was walking down the winding path to the shoreline as he shouted into the com. “I want everybody on the beach in ten minutes.”

“Captain Wallace, commence firing.” Teller had put mortars on six barges, turning them into makeshift gunboats. The mortars hadn’t been very effective weapons against the enemy troops, but they did shake things up and churn the ground. Teller was just hoping to buy a few extra minutes to get his people offshore, and he figured some shell craters and smoke might help.

“Yes, sir.” Wallace’s response was nearly simultaneous with the sounds of mortar rounds flying overhead.

A few seconds later the shells began hitting all along the enemy line. Teller knew they weren’t taking out too many enemy troops, but knocking them over and tearing up the ground would be enough to let him get his rearguard out. He hoped.

Erica West lay strapped in her acceleration couch, the heavy polymer padding tight against her body. She was trying to stay focused, but at 20g it wasn’t easy. The drugs strengthened the cell walls, increased blood flow to the head and extremities, and relaxed the muscles to prevent injury. They were also mildly hallucinogenic, an effect that was amplified by the high pressure.

West had bristled at every day spent hiding in the empty XR-3 system. She knew the Marines had to be catching hell on Cornwall, and she hated herself for abandoning them there. She was just following the agreed-upon battle plan, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Now she was going to do something about it. She’d taken a chance by sending in probes to scout out the enemy deployments. She accelerated the drones in XR-3, cutting thrust just before they entered the warp gate. The tactic required extremely accurate coordinates to calculate the correct insertion angle and insure that the probes were on a post-transit vector heading toward Cornwall. Once out of the warp gate, the probes ran silent, sending point to point laser communications to a relay satellite positioned adjacent to the warp gate.

Now Third Fleet was heading toward the warp gate at .05c. West had her ships imitate the drones, accelerating hard as they approached the transit point. Thirty seconds before Cambrai entered the warp gate she felt the sudden relief as 20g of pressure suddenly ceased. Her chair’s control system injected meds to counteract the drugs in her system, and it gave her a double dose of stimulant. She was just sitting up, slowly, painfully, when Cambrai entered the warp gate and exited into Cornwall’s system.

“All units have completed transit and are on silent running, Admiral.” West had instructed her AI to confirm the fleet’s post-transit status. The crew was still recovering from the effects of the acceleration, and these first few seconds were too crucial to trust to her disoriented officers…managing the fleet for the first few minutes post-transit was a job for the AIs. It was vital that all her ships remain undetected as long as possible. If Third Fleet could get close enough before the enemy knew they were coming, they just might have a chance.

“Very well, Athena.” West had reached back to ancient mythology for a name for her AI. “Status of scanning grid?” Before she’d withdrawn her fleet, West had seeded the area around Cornwall with scanner buoys and other detection devices. The grid was heavily shielded with ECM in the hopes that one or more of the devices might avoid detection, giving her data on the enemy strength and deployments.

“I am picking up laser transmissions from three of the scanner buoys, admiral.” The buoys had been programmed to send information by direct point to point laser communication. Unless an enemy ship happened to cross the beam, they shouldn’t have picked up anything. Normally, laser communication was used between ships that knew each other’s precise locations, but at this range the lasers’ beams had widened to several thousand kilometers. It was diffused and harder to detect, but as long as one of West’s ships was in the cone, they would get the transmissions. A laser communication at this range was sharply limited in the data it could carry, but West was only interested in basic coordinates right now.

“Very well. Send a plot of the enemy deployments to my display.” There was a knot in her stomach. It was time…now she’d see what her people had to face. They’d bugged out of the system before the invading fleet arrived, and they had no reliable information on enemy strength. Until now.

“And Athena…set up a fleetwide com line. Direct laser communication only.” Setting up a spiderweb of laser links connecting the flagship to the rest of the fleet was a complex job. Third Fleet had 62 ships deployed over a billion cubic kilometers of space, and calculating the optimal pattern of lasers was a computer’s job. “I will address the fleet in 15 minutes.” She wanted a look at the data first. West tended to be honest with her people, and she wanted to let them know what they were up against. Whatever it was, they were going in…the Marines had been fighting and dying on Cornwall for over two weeks. She’d be damned if she would just abandon them…no matter what the odds.

“Yes, admiral. Preparing communication links now.” Athena’s voice was soft and soothing. West tended to get very focused in battle situations, and over the years her AI had adjusted its demeanor to offset her tension. Athena had made the adjustments slowly, and West never realized how her AI had conformed itself to her needs. “The enemy deployment data is on your display.”

West looked down at the screen, and she almost gasped with excitement. The enemy had 14 ships in orbit and around the planet. It could have been worse, she thought. It could have been much, much worse. She looked up from her screen, panning her eyes across Cambrai’s bridge and whispered softly to herself. “Maybe we have a chance.”

“Get those autocannons set up NOW!” McDaniels’ voice was hoarse, her throat raw from shouting. Skarn Island had become an inferno, a manifestation of hell for the Marines desperately trying to hold out on its rocky slopes.

She still had all six of her autocannons, but most of them were on their second crew, and one of them was on its fourth. Casualties had been heavy, and the enemy had been targeting the weapons teams in particular. The regular mag-rifles of the Marines could take down one of the battle robots, but it took a lot of concentrated fire to do it. The HVMs and heavy autocannons were a much bigger threat, and the enemy had adjusted its fire priorities accordingly.