Teller closed his eyes for a minute and took a deep breath. The stimulants were great at keeping you focused and alert…for a while. But eventually there was a price to pay. He felt strung out and sick, and he didn’t have time for that now. “Grant, give me another stim. A double dose.”
“Colonel, you are already beyond the maximum dosage for this 24 hour period.” Teller’s AI spoke with a low, gravelly voice. It had modelled its audio output for compatibility with its user, but Teller could never figure out why it had selected such an odd voice.
“I understand that. Give it to me anyway.” He felt the pinprick in his arm as the AI obeyed his command. Teller didn’t have time to worry about consequences…he needed to be 100% right now.
His people had fought for every inch of ground, but this was their last stand. They’d made the enemy pay for Skarn Island, but they hadn’t been able to hold it. Some of his frontline units were below 20% strength. He was consolidating shattered companies now…trying to put together combat-worthy formations to maintain some sort of battle line.
They’d island hopped down the archipelago, but Cavin Island was the last substantial piece of dry land to defend. The area around his command post was crowded with wounded. They were coming in faster than his medical staff could handle them. His troops had made herculean efforts to evac all their wounded, but he couldn’t know who’d gotten left behind in the chaos. He had no doubt there were wounded Marines trapped behind the lines, waiting for the enemy to slaughter them. He closed his eyes tightly as he thought about it. It was one of the Corps’ most sacred creeds…not to leave anyone behind. But on terrain like Skarn Island it was almost impossible to find a wounded Marine if his suit transponder was knocked out.
Teller had never really expected to win the battle. But now his people faced the end of their tenacious defense, and he found himself wracking his brain for some way…any way…out. The thought of seeing his brigade wiped out completely was just too much to take.
As bad as the total casualties were, the losses among the officers were worse. The overwhelming power, the cold relentlessness of this enemy had worn down the morale of his troops, even the veterans. The officers found themselves having to rally units that had never wavered before, and they lost heavily in the process. His reorganizations were moving the survivors up two, sometimes three echelons.
He’d just put Erin McDaniels in charge of 1st battalion. Major Greives was dead, and Teller had already taken the two surviving captains to head up other battalions. McDaniels had more experience than any of the lieutenants in the battalion…besides, she only had 23 people left in the heavy weapons detachment anyway. Teller folded her people into the remnant of the battalion and put them back on the line. They were positioned along the west coast of the island…right where he expected the final attack to come.
He put his final report into the log, including McDaniels’ battlefield promotion to captain. He downloaded it into two digger-drones and set them to burrow beneath the rocky ground of Cavin. Maybe someday the Alliance would fight its way back to Cornwall…and then they would know how 1 st Brigade had fought and died.
“Colonel Teller!” It was his aide, Captain Walsh. “Lieutenant…I mean Captain…McDaniels reports she is under bombardment from enemy cluster-bombs.
“Understood. All units on alert.” Teller stood there and took a deep breath. Time for the final battle, he thought grimly. Then he deployed his mag-rifle and walked up the path toward the front lines.
Third Fleet’s missiles were accelerating at almost 50g…straight into the enemy ships. Launched from knife-fighting range, they closed the distance in a matter of minutes. The targeted ships fired their thrusters, trying to build some velocity to maneuver, and they began to deploy anti-missile defenses. But the incoming weapons had been launched at such close range, and with such high intrinsic velocity, the response was only moderately effective.
West watched on her screen as the ship’s AI reconstructed the entire battle area from the transmissions sent back by the missiles. The enemy ships launched large torpedoes in the directions of the heaviest missile concentrations. West knew they would break into a spread of mines that would explode in the path of the oncoming warheads. The Alliance had a similar weapon, though its effectiveness was inferior to some of the alternative systems, and it had fallen into disuse.
“If that’s the best they have to put up against our missiles…” She was speaking softly, mostly to herself, but she stopped short when she got the data on detonations. The explosions were massive, over 100 megatons…from each of the tiny mines. The massive patchwork of explosions destroyed dozens of missiles outright, and massive bursts of gamma radiation fried the control mechanisms of others. More than half her missiles were taken out in a few minutes.
“They must be antimatter warheads,” she whispered under her breath. They only launched a few of those torpedoes, she thought…I wonder why. A larger spread could have wiped out her entire missile barrage. “Athena, I want all data on the enemy’s anti-missile defenses logged on two drones.” She wondered, was this another weapon the enemy possessed in inexplicably short supply? Admiral Garret would want to know.
“Yes, Admiral West.” The AI’s response was immediate, as usual. “Drones are activated and receiving data now.”
“I want them launched one minute before we enter the enemy’s energy weapons range.” Of course they didn’t know the enemy’s range for sure…they were working on the sketchy data that trickled back from the ships fighting in earlier battles. Destroyed vessels and dead crews, she thought somberly.
“Yes, admiral. Launch sequence is already pre-programmed.”
West’s eyes went back to the display, watching her surviving missiles close on the enemy. They were moving at a very high velocity, making vector changes a slow and difficult process. But Third Fleet had caught the enemy almost stationary, and West had plotted her missiles perfectly. The target ships lashed out with anti-missile energy weapons similar to the Alliance’s lasers, but longer-ranged. Their fire was accurate, but over 20 of West’s missiles closed to detonation range.
The enemy ships were caught in the firestorm, some of them taking damage from multiple detonations. Right behind the nuclear maelstrom of the missile volley came Cambrai’s 12 bombers, bearing down on their targets at .08c. Half of them were destroyed by the point defense, but the others closed on the damaged ships. The Cambrai’s bridge erupted in shouts and cheers as one, then a second bomber hit a damaged enemy ship with plasma torpedoes. The vessel shuddered and exploded into a massive fireball.
“Scratch one bogie!” It was Lieutenant Polk, her junior tactical officer. The outburst showed a lapse of discipline, but West let it go. She’d almost loosed a rowdy cheer herself.
Then another bomber hit one of the enemy ships, and both of them vanished in an enormous explosion. West sat back in her command chair and took a deep breath. She hadn’t been sure they’d be able to destroy any of the enemy ships, and now she watched in astonishment as two more erupted into miniature suns.
“Admiral, we got them with antimatter missiles on some sort of external rack system.” Polk’s voice was still high-pitched with excitement, but he’d regained his composure. “We caught them flat-footed, sir.”
West suppressed a smile. She couldn’t believe their luck, but the battle was far from over. “Athena, implement damage control plan Zeta-2.” They were about to enter range of the enemy’s energy weapon.
“All personnel secure helmets now. Secondary life support systems active.” The announcement was being heard on every ship in the fleet. West knew they were going to take it hard from the enemy particle accelerators, and she didn’t want to lose anyone because of carelessness. If a section of a ship lost atmosphere, the Zeta-2 protocols would save lives.