Assault: The Globur Incursion Book 6, page 31
Sanderson had no illusions about what the Globur were up to. They hoped to slow the Marines down and catch them in open ground before they could reach the next position. That probably means they’re expecting reinforcements of some kind, thought Sanderson.
Comms were still out. They had no contact with the Fleet task forces in the system or their Marine planetary assault transports that had dropped them. All they had were the runners—missiles that carried messages beyond the jamming. It was possible for the Fleet to send a similar missile to the surface. The fact that they had not was sobering. The warships breaking up in the planet’s atmosphere had hammered home the news that Fleet did not control Khan’s orbit.
Without resupply and their heavy weapons, the Marines would surely be wiped out by the Globur force pursuing them. The data from the probes and the scanners in the suits showed that the Globur were slowly gaining ground on the Marines, even though the new Marine suits were faster than the old ones, and the weather had been of some assistance. The rain was heavier now. The early rain had been light and caused a mist, especially around the areas of burning grassland from the nuclear strikes. Marines in prepared positions could survive a nuclear strike. The new suits had even protected them when they were withdrawing and above ground—most of them had survived the early nuclear strikes.
Alpha Company was close to the secondary position, and James had already flipped the position map they would occupy so they could go right to their positions. This position was not as hasty as the last. It had hardened bunkers and emplacements. It would be a tougher one to crack for the Globur. Problem was that Sanderson had no doubt they would crack it, given enough time.
Sanderson’s suit continued to run as his thoughts drifted to Lilly Veranze back in the Albion system. He liked how her eyes really lit up when she smiled. Behind that glitter was a hard core. She was a tough woman, and Sanderson had been impressed with how she handled herself when she had been trapped with the Marines on the planet where they first made contact with the Globur.
The hiding out, the rescue, and the trip back had not been easy. She had taken it all in stride. Besides, she loved him. That was a first. There had been other women, but they had loved only his facade. And they had really loved the fact he came from a very wealthy family.
None of that mattered to Lilly. She knew who he was, and that was who she loved. Sanderson had been surprised to find he felt the same about her. He knew he must get back to her, but he was not sure he would make it this time. This Globur trap had them well and truly in its grip.
If they had landed in their chosen landing zone, they would have had a better defensive position. With their heavy weapons, they could have held a position, even this endless grassy plain. All that planning was moot now.
The rain was now very heavy and made the Marine suits easy to spot even though they were in stealth. Sanderson looked up the line of running ghosts plowing through the rain and high grass as they vanished in the mist ahead. Even seeing things in the thermal band and up to the ultraviolet band did not help. The rain was a blessing and a curse. It limited the transmission of sound and visibility.
Good infantry weather, thought Sanderson grimly. In his basic training, their platoon sergeant had always said that when it rained, it made stealth easier for an attack or recon. The mist and rain muted the flash of another tactical nuke.
Sanderson sneered at the fading glare. The weather must be playing havoc with the Globur targeting systems. A little more lighting might help - too bad. Good news was there are a lot fewer strikes now the rain’s really heavy.
They were approaching the prepared position. Sanderson realized that the rain would wipe out their thermal traces far more quickly than normal. The Globur would not see the position until it was too late.
James came over the comm. “Alright, Meanies! We’re here. Get into position. Equipment checks and repair systems to prioritize weapons and armor. Let’s get ready to give these assholes a real welcome. Grenade spread denial pattern.” James flipped the map of the company’s area for seeding grenades, and Marines accepted the map and had their suits send grenades to the specified coordinates as they ran onto the position.
“Platoon sergeants,” barked Sanderson. “Get them settled in. Watch the thermal emissions. Check in when the heavy lasers are set up.” Lighting flashed across the sky to welcome the streams of Marines as they ran across the river bottom and streamed onto the prepared position.
“Sanderson, glad you made it,” Zhui’s voice came over the comm.
“Yeah, bastards harried us all night,” Sanderson shot back. “You good, Zhui?”
“Lost some on the way. Ambushes.” Zhui voice was hard with venom. “Damn hard to detect those bastards, especially running at top speed. Sergeant Antonetti’s platoon took some serious losses.”
Sanderson felt his frustration rise. “We took losses, too. No choice. We had to move fast. Left the dead. Brought the living. Looks like this is the last stand, my friend.”
“Bullshit,” spat Zhui. “These bastards won’t get the best of us. If we get orbital support, we can catch them in the open.”
Sanderson felt himself smile. “Well, if there’s a way, the Fleet will make it happen. They can’t let a couple of poster-boy heroes get wasted on this operation. It would look bad, you know.”
Zhui chuckled slightly. “Well, we all know how the Fleet hates to look bad. See you after, buddy. Gotta get my company ready.”
Sanderson sighed. “Been a while since we were dumbass Marines. Give it hell, Zhui. See you after.”
The platoons of Alpha were checking in. It looked like everything was all set. Sanderson settled into a bunker where the company commander was already ensconced, just finishing an orders group with the battalion.
James shifted her suit to look at Sanderson. “Looks like the old man has a Hail Mary for us.”
“Do tell, Skipper,” shot back Sanderson. “I hope it does not involve me doing something incredibly dangerous and heroic—again.”
James ignored the sarcasm. “He’s sending up a runner with our position and the coordinates for an orbital strike. If the Fleet is not in orbit, with that information, they may be able to lend some support.”
“It won’t be very accurate,” Sanderson pointed out.
“And here we are in a nice cozy bunker,” James let her sarcasm show. “The Fleet has to know we’re in trouble down here. They must be working on some way to get into orbit. They must have run into orbital defenses. We saw those ships breaking up in the atmosphere.”
“So, that’s the plan? FDF—final defensive fire? That will be tough to coordinate. If the fleet isn’t in position, or too far out, it’ll be for nothing.” Sanderson was philosophical. “I suppose it beats running for our lives across this damn grassy plain. That really isn’t working for me, anyway. We left too many good Marines back there.”
“We hold here,” James said with finality.
Sanderson settled into a seat built to take his armor on the side of the bunker. “Well, if I know a certain rear admiral and a certain captain—they’ll find a way. We still have friends up there. They saved us before. Hell, we saved their butts, and those Fleet folks owe us. If the cavalry doesn’t come, I’m likely to become—annoyed.”
Chapter 35
Rear Admiral Pang had TF14 running an elliptical racetrack course outside the Mongolia system. They were just coming up to target velocity as she watched the resupply freighters head into the system to link up with TF16 and TF17 after resupplying TF14. All the expended attack missiles and torpedoes had been replenished. More importantly, TF14 had a full resupply of the capital missiles that had allowed their victory in the last engagement.
Things should have been comforting. They were guarding the system and resupplied. The other task forces were next in line. But things were not going according to plan, and Pang was worried. A sense of dread filled the flag bridge. The Globur had allowed the Marines to land, but now they were cut off and likely on the run. The Marines had lost one planetary assault transport, and others were damaged as they held position away from Khan. There was little doubt they would not survive long enough in orbit to drop the heavy weapons and supplies. TF16 had taken significant damage in the fight for the system, and TF17 had been badly mauled by some kind of stealth ships in Khan’s orbit. It had clearly been a trap.
Only TF14 that retained full combat capability.
It made Pang think back to ancient history, the battles taught at the Academy about ancient paratroopers—soldiers who dropped from the sky without the benefit of any antigravity, only relying on billowing fabric to slow them enough to survive. They were lightly equipped and fiercely fought to secure objectives. Their history of success was inconsistent. However, they always made an impact. That was much the same situation the Marines were in.
Communication from the planet had been sparse, and the jamming was impenetrable. The debris in the atmosphere and the numerous tactical nukes deployed by the Globur had made any kind of observation on the ground impossible. The grassy plain where the Marines were located had been set alight in many places, covering the entire area with smoke and making thermal scans ineffective.
There was no doubt that Marines were in trouble. An imperial Marine, now augmented and in a new model suit, was not an easy thing to kill. However, the enemy here was not human and brought a level of ferocity that Pang had only imagined before meeting them in the fight to save her previous ship, the carrier Dixmude, now largely a wreck back at Gateway.
Ryoshi was the first of the new class imperial Fleet carriers. That was why the flag bridge was filled with tension. Ryoshi carried a quantum-drive detector, as did TF14’s new class battleships. The flag plot showed the smear of an inbound quantum drive track.
The track had just appeared, and it bisected the Markus Nebula. That left no doubt. The Globur were on their way. Probably a battlegroup with a carrier and the boarding pods that had cost them almost as many ships recently as outright combat. There was time to get TF17 or TF16 out to assist in the intercept, but that was not practical.
Jones had TF17 standing by to clear Khan’s orbit. He thought that if they could get a destroyer through, it would force the stealth pods or ships to unmask, and TF17 was positioning itself to take out any that pursued the destroyer or otherwise revealed themselves. It was a start to getting some support to the Marines. Jones would be tasking almost all his heavy fighters to support the destroyer as she made a run in to hopefully contact and support the stranded Marines.
TF16 had a lot of damage, and not all the ships were combat ready. Having them engage the Globur directly would not end well. A ranged attack might be possible with TF16’s fighters and the quantum cannon mounted on her remaining battleships.
Pang commed Brown. He was on the flag bridge despite his serious wounds.
Concern was written across Brown’s face. “Rear Admiral Pang, I just saw the inbound track on my flag plot. It was relayed from my battleships as Wallachia does not mount a detector.”
Pang did not mince words. “We need more fire power out here. I know your task force is not in great shape, but I could really use your fighters and battleships for a ranged attack.”
Brown looked thoughtful. “Yes, we could certainly do that. We would need resupply for our capital missiles, but we could make it into position to get our fighters out for a heavy-fighter strike, and we would be able to draw some fire away from TF14 as well.”
“We can use all of our quantum-drive detectors to sharpen the track and the transition point. If you position your ships in quantum-cannon range, we can also do a pre-emptive missile launch and heavy fighter strike so we can hit them right at transition, like they did to our people in the Tirakoni system.”
Brown had already signaled to get TF16 underway toward Pang’s position. “TF16 will resupply on a priority basis as we move toward you. Even slowed by our drive damage, we will be in a position to support you well before the Globur arrive. I assume that you believe TF17 should remain in support of the Marines?”
“I do,” replied Pang. “Landing Marines successfully to retake the planet is what we came here to do. It’s the mission.”
Brown smiled weakly. “I concur. According to what we know, the Marines should have reached their second position, and Jones will be about to attempt his plan to get a destroyer overhead to assess what is happening and provide assistance. Most importantly, it will help him to unmask and destroy more of those pods or ships in orbit. TF16 is on its way.”
Brown killed the transmission. His assurance did not boost Pang’s confidence. There were just too many unknowns. The inbound track did not have any reliable mass reading yet, but Pang feared that it was a large battlegroup – or possibly two. If there was more than one carrier, they might not be able to hold the system. It was not possible to know what information the Globur in the system had been able to communicate to the force now inbound.
Pang was frustrated at the lack of information on the enemy. For all we know, they have dozens of battlegroups with carriers, she thought in frustration. At each engagement, the Globur ship data was analyzed. Some ships showed telltale scarring where they had healed from laser strikes, while others looked brand new. It was quite difficult to distinguish between ships. Some had distinct power signatures, but many were almost identical in every way.
The flag plot toned softly, indicating an update. The transition point for the inbound track had become more localized and the time was no longer fluctuating as much. They had about three hours until the Globur arrived. TF16 was about to rendezvous with the supply freighters, and the resupply would take two hours at most. They would be in position before the Globur arrived.
The Fleet had been ordered to take back the Mongolia system and had thrown all the resources it had into the effort. Three task forces, two just recently commissioned, and 16 planetary assault transports—the only ones in existence—along with an entire Marine division landed to take the planet.
The operational risk here is extreme, thought Pang. If we lose here, the entire empire will be laid bare. Of course, the Globur cannot know that, but there will be no task force to stand in their way if they keep to their rough schedule of conquest. More systems may be lost as a result of a defeat here. Pang frowned at the realization she had been in this position before.
Pang pinged her communication officer. “Tell the destroyers to load the new quantum torpedoes and then fill their ready magazines with all the standard loadout after firing all the quantum torpedoes. It looks like we’re about to see if these are the game changer that the grand admiral thinks they are.”
***
At that moment, Grand Admiral Medici was staring out the viewport of his large office, enjoying his coffee. His aide pinged his implant to indicate that Vice Admiral Stukov was outside, and Medici shot back that Stukov should be admitted.
“Stukov,” Medici said. “What brings you here?”
“You haven’t heard anything from the Mongolia operation?” asked Stukov as curiosity creased his brow.”
“No.” Medici shook his head and motioned to the food processor with his coffee cup. “Coffee?”
Stukov moved over to the food processor and drew a cup of coffee for himself. He came back to the chair in front of Medici’s desk as the grand admiral stayed swiveled sideways looking out the large viewport.
“They’re overdue,” Stukov pointed out, regarding his boss oddly.
“They are,” replied Medici, slowly after taking another sip from his coffee.
“That likely means something went wrong,” Stukov pushed.
“It does,” replied Medici.
“Well, you seem very calm,” Stukov announced, letting his frustration show.
“Not really,” replied Medici as he swiveled to face Stukov.
“I know there’s little we can do but wait,” Stukov went on. “I thought about sending in a reconnaissance ship, but that’s risky. Even if we got close enough for some real data, say a light-day or two out, by the time the ship returned, we might have heard from the task forces directly.”
“But you sent a ship anyway.” Medici wore a knowing grin.
Stukov was surprised. “I did. How did you know?”
“I didn’t, until just now. But it’s something I would expect you to do. I’ve been badgered by the Senate ceaselessly since the time of expected check-in came and passed. All of the ships involved in the operation should have had time to complete quick repairs and charge their quantum drives, even assuming that the battle and landing took the best part of a standard day.”
“I wish we had a quantum-drive detector in the Chard system,” lamented Stukov. “At least we would know if they were inbound.”
“At least,” agreed Medici. “They had a good plan, and they had the latest weapons, along with our most experienced commanders. They should have been able to prevail against the forces in the system, and they should have checked in by now.”
Medici placed his empty cup on the desk as he leaned back in his chair. “As you say, something has gone wrong. They are well overdue to check in. All we can do is wait while my staff deflects the senators—at least for a while. I’m sure that I’ll be called to offer some sort of explanation. Perhaps your reconnaissance mission can tell us something before that.”
“If we lose those task forces… The crews, the commanders. Pang, Jones, and Brown.” Stukov locked eyes with Medici. “That might be an unsurvivable loss.”
Medici nodded grimly. “One that the senators, who insisted on this attack, will blame us for.”
Stukov understood how that worked, but he was surprised to hear Medici say it so calmly. “That doesn’t scare you?”
Medici shrugged. “I’ve risked everything in this conflict because I understand we could still lose—as do you. If we lose, the Senate will do what they think they have to, but they will burn along with the rest when the Globur come for them. We’ve done all we can. Now we have to rely on those very commanders you spoke of. And Colonel Shaka with his Marines. We’ve played our hand, and now we wait for the searing judgment of battle. I can’t imagine that our forces have been destroyed, but something is holding them in the Mongolia system.”
