The bed if you could call it that was cold as frozen concrete. Try as I might I hadn’t been able to get more than half-hour of sleep all night long. I knew that I screwed up. I shouldn’t have been in that bar. All of us kids at Sky Reach Orphanage knew the place was a cop bar. I thought that now that I was eighteen, I could celebrate with a beer legally. I thought going to a cop bar that I wouldn’t get into trouble. I thought wrong. After living down the block from the place for the last nine years I should have known better.
The bang of a nightstick against the Caflese bars let me know the cell block guard was waking everyone in the holding cells. “Alright you slobs wake your worthless asses up. Judge Jäger will only hold your sentencing for a Cheesehead attack. Even then she just might send your ass to the frontline to get shot instead of an honest citizens.”
The minute I hear I’ll be going before Judge Jäger I try to stop the guard. “Yo! Guard! I want a new Judge.”
“Oh, you do, do ya. And just why should I even bother with talking to the prosecutor about getting you before another judge street rat?” The guard snarled in my face. “You some kind of High Family dipshit?”
“No. I just need to go before another judge.” I was really trying my best to avoid going before Judge Emmy Jäger. There was no way I wanted to go before the same judge twice in one week. Especially the one who had just declared my emancipation. When the guard gave me a dirty look I sighed. “Look Judge Jäger just declared me emancipated two days ago. I don’t want to disappoint her by showing up before her on criminal charges like this.”
“Sorry kid. I feel ya, but it’s the weekend and she’s the only judge hearing arraignments.” I slumped against the bars hearing this. The guard must have had a soft spot because he leaned in close so that I would be the only one hearing him. “Look kid. I’ll do you a favor. I’ll make sure that you’re the last one called before the judge.”
“Thanks, officer. I really appreciate it. Any other advice?” I asked him.
“Keep your head down and mouth shut until called. When you get in front of the judge it’s all ‘yes ma’am, no ma’am’. If she offers you a deal take it.” The guard told me bluntly. “Do you know how deep in the shit you are?”
“No sir. I don’t. What am I looking at?” I asked him.
“Assault and battery, assault and battery of a peace officer, disturbing the peace, and resisting arrest, for starters, kid. You’re looking at ten to fifteen at the minimum.” The guard gave me a soft look. “If you got some kind of string you can pull. I suggest you use it.”
“Thanks, officer. Looks like I get to be a guest of the Department of Corrections for a while.” I sighed and leaned against the cold metal of the cell bars. “What happens next?”
“You’ll go from here down to final processing. There they’ll take a DNA sample. Run it to make sure you have no active warrants. Then they march you over to arraignment. Whatever you do don’t piss off the other prisoners.” The guard stepped back and continued on down the cell block. Bagging on the cell doors as he went. I stepped back away from the bars and waited for the door to open. I knew that I would follow the guard’s advice to the letter.
When the door to my cell finally opened, I waited until the last prisoner walked past me before failing into line. Everything happened just the way the guard said it would. There was one notable situation that occurred during my final processing. The technician who took my DNA sample waved the senior guard over to him after he ran my sample. They had a very hushed conversation between themselves while pointing over at me every few seconds. Finally, the guard waved me over to me and asked. “What’s your full name son?”
“Robert Edward Wolff, sir.” I sigh and wait for the usual horseshit to come for my last name. I start counting down from ten. I don’t even make to eight before the ‘look’ comes. The one that says they remember who my parents were. “Yah I’m a real fracking disappointment. Where do I go next?”
“Follow the red line on the floor kid.” The guard tells me with a pitying look in his eyes. I don’t even get out of the room good when I hear. “Damn. Poor kid. Losses his parents to the Cheeseheads and what does that slug Governor do? Throws him into the very orphanage his parents died protecting.”
“Was that really their kid, boss?” Was the last thing I heard as I walked away from the final processing room. I really hate it when those in charge give me looks of pity. If they really fracking cared I wouldn’t have spent the last nine years of my life in the city orphanage after my grandmother died leaving all alone in life. Not that it matters. I won’t be on this backwater shithole planet for much longer. If I can get the judge to overlook last night’s bar fight or grant me bail.
If it’s only bail, then I’ll have to move fast. I know there are at least four Clipper Class dropships ready for liftoff today. I just need to sign on as crew for just one of them. Then pray that the police don’t come looking for me. If I can’t then I’ll have to stowaway. Either way I can only hope that Judge Emmy Jäger doesn’t decide to hold me over for trial.
By the time I reach the courtroom most of the other screwups had already been before Judge Emmy ‘the hatchet’ Jäger. Ice cold bitch of the courtroom. There was four prisoners a head of me. I decided to try and make myself as small as possible at the back of the courtroom. The bailiff called the next case, and I watched the guy from the cell next to mine head up. Jäger didn’t waste time with the man. She set his bail at fifty-thousand credits cash or bond then dismissed his case. She repeated this same ruling three more times. It seems that Judge Jäger has a thing for the number fifty thousand.
“Next case.” Judge Jäger called out.
“People verses Robert Wolff. Two counts assault and battery, one count of assault and battery of a peace officer, one count of disturbing the peace, and one count of resisting arrest. Docket number ending in seven, seven, three, nine. Your honor.” The court clerk called out.
As I walked towards my Public Defender the man stopped me in my tracks with his opening comments. “Your honor the defense requests a continuance.”
“Okay counselor. On what grounds?” Judge Jäger asked as one of the courtroom officers stopped me just before the rail.
“It seems that there are extenuating circumstances surrounding my client, your honor. Ones that require a third party be present before any legal concerns can be addressed.” The Public Defender explained.
“Okay counselor. Just who is this third party?” Judge Jäger asked the question that was on my own mind.
“Your honor may I approach the bench? I don’t think we want this aired in open court records.” My lawyer said instead of answering the judge’s question much to my confusion.
“You may approach.” The skinny assed knuckle dragging little shit rushed to the bench right alongside the ADA. The three held a whispered conversation. When they broke Judge Jäger pounded her gavel on the bench. “Continuance is granted. The Defendant is to be held over until Tuesday morning. Court is adjourned until that time.”
I knew that this was fracking crazy. “Objection your Honor. You cannot hold me over without filing charges. Pursuant to Parker v Elise no person can be held without due process of the law in a timely manner. Either file the charges or dismiss them and release me. As for the jack-o-lope who calls himself my lawyer he’s fired. I’ll represent myself.”
“Overruled Mister Wolff.” Judge Jäger answered back with a sly smile. “Though I must say that your studies of the law have served you will. While Parker v Elise does support your initial argument, it does not however overrule People v Poe. Where the people can hold an individual for an undefined period of time due to third party interests.”
“What third party honor?” I demanded.
“It seems that your cousin needs to be notified of your arrest young man. Until such time as they or their representative can be made available for your court appearance.” Judge Jäger informed me with a grin. “Oh, and Robert your argument was will founded for spur of the moment. I’ll order the guards to allow you access to the jail’s law library. This way you can prepare your defense for when you next appear before this court.”
I wanted to raise a bitch fit, but I knew that Judge Jäger would just overrule me again. Though I will give the woman this much. She is beyond reproach and extremely honorable. When I first challenged the courts for my emancipation, she rejected my application. Then she went and sent me her personal law books to study. With the pertaining materials bookmarked. I learned all kinds of court procedure, case law, everything I needed to know to win my appeal and freedom from the orphanage. As I was being led back to my hold cell in the jail something the judge said finally pinged in the back of my mind. “What damned cousin is she talking about?”
Planet Hades, Death Gates System
Joan Eunice Smith School for Young Ladies, 1530 local time
The four heavily armed guards standing in the corners of the classroom would normally cause more than a little commotion in a schoolroom. At JESS they are just part of the scenery. Namely because of two teachers. Then again, most schools don’t have a Dowager Empress and War Princess for teachers. After the Emperor James took the throne Empress Maiha and Princess Alison retired to Hades to take up positions as a teachers at the Joan Eunice Smith School for Young Ladies. To the students, parents, and teachers at the school having twenty-four members of the Royal Guard walking the hallways quickly became an everyday and extremely welcomed sight.
The twenty-four members of the Hellhounds had become more than just bodyguards in the school. Those not watching over their charges could often be found acting as substitute teachers, tutors, mentors, and student guidance counselors. They had become as much a part of the teaching staff as the Empress and her wife over the last two years.
When the bell rang signaling the end of class Maiha turned away from the chalkboard. “We’ll pick up here tomorrow class. Please read over the chapter for open question period tomorrow. Now go on and get out of here.”
The class of thirty-two girls stood gathered their books and study materials before bowing to Maiha on their way out of the classroom. Once the last student was out the door Maiha turned to the man standing next to the door. “Shut the door Spider. Talk to me Hound dog. What asshole has decided to frack up a prefect day for me? Don’t they know that it’s James’ ass on the throne now days not mine. I mean come on damned it. I’m retired.”
“Sorry your majesty, but this one time that you need to handle the problem.” The Captain for her personal guard told her. “Personally.”
“What the hell happened Captain Marks?” It was the tone of her Captains voice that told Maiha whatever had happened was a family matter. “Who decided to come after my family this time?”
“Not so much your family majesty, but your grandfather’s family.” The Captain explained. “It seems that your second or third cousin is in trouble with the law on Apollo six.”
“Wait a minute. I don’t have any cousins. The last time I checked none of my grandfather’s family was still alive.” Maiha knew that the only sister of James J. Owens died during the Black November invasion by the Gorgonzola Empire eighty years ago. At least that was what the reports said.
“According to the report from one Captain Andrew White of the third Special Operations Recon team, twelfth Airborne Ranger Battalion, forty-third Airborne Border Division, the Scarlet Hellions. You do have a living relative on Apollo six, majesty.” Captain Marks said as he walked over to the classroom printer. He pulled the printed-out report from the tray before handing it over to Maiha. “This is not a joke, Wave Dancer.”
Maiha gave her Captain a sideways glance before reading the printed report. “Holy shit! Has this been verified?”
“Full authentication ma’am.” Marks told her as he removed his helmet. “Ma’am, I had the coms shack run the codes three times. It’s real.”
“Has Princess Alison been informed of this report yet?” Maiha asked.
“Not at this time ma’am. I felt that it would be best to bring this to your attention first before having Captain Carter passing the report onto her.” Marks said with more authority than a normal Death Dealer Captain. Marks took a deep breath before asking. “Permission to speak freely ma’am?”
“Marks how many times have I told you that none of you have to ask that question when we are alone.” Maiha grumbled slightly. She hated having to break in a new security detail every five years.
“Until the day that I’m no longer wearing the uniform or in the grave, ma’am.” Marks chuckled at the cross-eyed look Maiha gave him. “I suggest that we have Captain White secure your relative for now. I don’t know the man personally, but the Scarlet Hellions are one of the best units on the boarder. I know that First Lieutenant Howard and First Sergeant Doobs are with the twelfth Airborne Ranger Battalion now. I can tap them as well.”
Maiha’s years of command kicked in and began to issue orders while planning for a hostel rescue mission if necessary. “Use the Storm Dancers Codes, Captain. Secure that person. Shut down any fracking criminal investigation unless the charges are Capital offenses. Contact the spaceport. Have Captain Nelson warm up the Dragon’s Wing and get the Viper’s on hot alert. Have the com-shack alert Admiral Tiriana Kriswarin aboard the James Owens and have the Matriarch Star Divisions on standby for a hot jump. Tell the Admiral we’re heading for the border and Apollo six. I’ll deal with my wife.”
“No need love.” Alison said as she stepped through the door to Maiha’s classroom. “Your students came to me when your door was closed. I take it that we have a royal shit storm on our hands.”
“Captain clear and lock the room, please.” Maiha ordered. The four-man detail followed her orders and left the Dowager couple to themselves. Once they were alone. “Alice, I have a great nephew on Apollo six.”
“Holy shit! You’re not joking, are you? I thought that you were the only surviving member of your family Kitten?” Alice rattled off.
“I’m dead serious Pussycat. It seems that my baby sister survived the Cheesehead attack eighty years ago. How I have no fracking idea. Dornwich took a direct hit from a one-ninety orbital bombardment. It left nothing but a ten-mile crater behind. Before you ask, I read the reports of the attack and knew that no one could have survived that kind of blast.” Maiha sighed. “I should have double checked.”
“Maiha, you did nothing wrong. You were what ten, twelve, systems away on the other side of the Empire when the attack happened?” Alice asked.
“More like dealing with the Wingnuts trying to overrun Soliv Prime at the time. It wasn’t until six months later before I even knew that Apollo six was attacked. Another five before I knew that Dornwich was turned into a big hole in the ground.” Maiha sighed heavily as she thought about her home world. A world she hadn’t set foot on in more than a century. “Apollo six is a shithole of a planet. It will chew you up and shit you out. Never giving you a second thought. If my sister survived and had a family then I owe her.”
“How sure are they that this person is related to you?” Alice asked.
“If this DNA report is correct. There is a ninety-eight percent chance that this young man is the great grandson of my kid sister Cecilia Owens.” Maiha said as she waved the report in her hands. Maiha almost broke down with the next words she spoke. “Baby I need to go. I have to know what happened to my sister. How she survived. How many children she had.”
“Go love. Take care of your family. Bring them home.” Alice ordered. “I’ll have Sims cover your classes until you get back.”
Maiha gave Alice a kiss and hug. “Tell mama I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
“Go I’ll handle things here. Take Vicky with you. Like the old saying goes. It is better to have a gun and not need it. Then to need it and not have it.” Alice said with a friendly smile.
“You know that I am basically a walking, talking, breathing, weapons system. Most likely the deadliest woman alive.” Maiha asked with her own smirk.
Two hours later the Empyreal shuttle Dragon’s Wing was lifting off headed for the Shinigami battle platform James J. Owens. Of all the Shinigami battle platforms only Ryuk matched the ship named for the most feared of Death Dealers. Two hours later the massive ship and its accompanying fleet ripped holes in the fabric of time and space. It would take three days for the fleet to make the transit from the Death Gates System to the border zone with the Gorgonzola Empire. For Maiha Nakatoma those three days would have her walking the corridors at all hours of the day. One thought would continually haunt her during the flight. How could she have left her sister to die alone on the hellhole known throughout the Empire as Apollo Six.
Goulcrest The City of Ebony, Apollo 6, Highlands System, Gorgonzola border zone: 1745 local time
Lower East Xaimeed Police District Station House 12
Captain Andrew White walked through the door of the Lower East Xaimeed police district station house. He was followed by First Lieutenant Howard and First Sergeant Doobs hot on his heels. The desk Sergeant took one look at the trio and grabbed the phone. There wasn’t one man, woman, or child on all of Apollo that hadn’t seen the dress uniform for the Death Dealers. To have three Death Dealers marching into his station at once meant trouble.
“Sir get down here. We got trouble. Yes sir. We got two officers and a First Sergeant from the twelfth Rangers. Yes sir. I’m positive of their ranks and unit. No sir we don’t have anyone from the Hellions in the tombs. Yes sir. I’m positive. Right. I’ll let the Captain know that you’re on your way down sir.” The desk Sergeant hung up the phone and looked Captain White in the eyes. “Captain Wallace is on his way down as we speak sir.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. Can you also contact the ADA for me please?” White asked the desk sergeant politely.
“I think we need to wait for my Captain before contacting the ADA sir. My I know what’s brought you here today. I know that we currently do not have any Death Dealers in our cells.” The Sergeant asked bluntly.
“I know that none of our troops are in your holding cells Sergeant. There is someone else that is of importance though that is in your holding cells.” Captain White explained for the desk Sergeant.
“Excuse me sir, but the only person in the holding cells is a nobody street rat arrested last night for fighting in the Club and Cuff. I still don’t understand why Judge Jäger didn’t just throw his ass behind bars in the county lockup. Instead I’ve got to put on extra guards for the weekend to cover his ass.” The desk Sergeant bitched with real honesty.
“Sir, that might be the asset we were sent to secure.” The Lieutenant told White from behind him. “According to the description the asset is an orphan.”
“That maybe Lieutenant.” White answered First Lieutenant Kathy Howard under his breath. “But until we lay eyes on for conformation say nothing.”
“Yes sir.” Kathy Howard answered back just as quietly. She may not like this mission, but she would follow orders. She wasn’t the only one who was on edge. First Sergeant Jacob Doobs was also edgy. The Captain had walked into their individual units and pulled them for a mission with no notice. All he had told them was that this mission carried a Black Storm Chaser warning. Meaning it had come directly from Empress Maiha. As the only three personnel in all of the 43rd Airborne Border Division with clearance for the mission they had been tasked to carry out the orders.
At that time, the mag-lift doors open and a middle aged, potbellied, balding, man wearing the uniform of a police captain exited. “Yeats what the bloody hell is going on in my station? Where are these damned Black Shirts? And why are there three bloody damned pixies in Station house?”
All three of the Death Dealers bristled at the derogatory names used by the police captain. The fact that each one was an Elf was as clear as the nose on your face. Their uniforms clearly marked them as Death Dealers not members of the racist Jackal Association. Then again to most of the border zone citizens seeing elves in the Death Dealers was still a rarity. Hell seeing an elf anywhere in the border zones was a rarity except for along Highwinds. The three Death Dealer elves had very deferent opinions of the man.
Captain White just sighed as he was used to this kind of attitude from some of the local police. He’s been station on Apollo six for eighteen months now. And in the nine times he had to bail a trooper. He’s has always got the same racist attitude form some Irish throwback beat cop. Apollo six may have been founded by the Greeks in the golden age of exploration but they were close to failure when the first Irish settlers landed. Bringing with them their old-world traditions and prejudices. Because of this two thirds of the Apollo citizens were Scott-Irish Protestants.
First Lieutenant Kathy Howard was shocked by the blatant bigotry shown by the man. She had only been on Apollo six for three months now. Until now she had nothing but positive encounters with the civilians. Hell, she’d even been on a few dates with some of the men from around Camp Crescent Moon. She had been warn by her CO that some of the police still had the old Irish Protestant prejudices from Earth Prime.
Of the three only First Sergeant Jacob Doobs knew what was really going on with the police captain. He had seen it before more times than Captain White. So, when White didn’t move to address the situation Doobs did. “Listen hear copper. We ain’t got time t’ be mucking about with your petty bullshit.”
The police captain smiled and held out his hand to the First Sergeant. “Sorry about the attitude Captain, Lieutenant, had to be sure who you said you were. If you’ll follow me, please?”
The three Death Dealers all smiled at the very sudden change in the Captain’s demeaner. Once they were in the mag-lift and the doors were closed the Captain hit the down button instead of the up button. “I presume that you’re here for young Mister Wolff.”
“You presume correctly. What do you know about the situation, Captain?” White asked the man.
“Not much, Captain. Only that when the DNA tech ran the young man’s sample it came back with an Empyreal Red Flag. This information was locked down, the boy’s Public Defender, ADA, and arrangement Judge was notified. The Judge granted a continuance with a hold order, after that his PDA notified the Judge Advocate’s office. They took it from there. All I got was orders to lock down everything under the sun concerning the boy. Along with orders to keep him under wraps until someone from Death Dealer Command showed up.” The Captain gave White, Howard, and Doobs a hard look. “That was at ten-hundred this morning. Since then two other groups have tried to claim the kid.”
“So that little show upstairs was for the troops?” White asked in confusion.
“No, sir. The Captain here was testing us. I have the feeling that those other two groups were leaked the information on our asset.” Doobs answered. “Anyone else would have blown their cover at being called Black Shits or fairies. We owe the Captain here a major favor.”
“I don’t know who that boy is related to, Captain White.” The Police Captain started off with. “Until this morning he was just your normal street running orphan with the typical small-time record to go along with that but all that change this morning. We never had to run his DNA because what he did wasn’t enough to really send the lad before the Judges. You know stuff like, run a three card Monty game, con an out of towner for their taxi fare credits, a little underage drinking, snagging a candy bar for one of the younger kids. All minor bullshit he was never a real troublemaker.”
“Then what changed Captain. It sounds like you know the kid.” Howard asked.
“The boy turned eighteen yesterday. He went to a local copper’s bar to celebrate. According to the officers that were there everything was going smoothly until a visiting cop started in on Robert. Words were exchanged and then fits started flying. No one knows who throw the first punch between them, but things got out of hand fast. As Robert was the only civilian in the bar at the time the responding officers placed him under arrest until after the investigation. Mostly because the boy is a flight risk.” He told them as the doors of the lift opened. “Welcome to the holding block, lady and gents or as we call them the tombs.”
“Damn how big is this place?” White asked in amazement.
“We can accommodate fifty prisoners comfortably, seventy-five if we double up in some of the larger cells.” The captain explained then pointed down one hallway. “Your asset is this way.”
“Before we dig our asset out of his gray bar hotel room. What else can you tell us about the boy?” Doobs asked the Captain.
“His parents are local legends and heroes. They died protecting the Sky Reach orphanage. The same orphanage that raised him after their deaths at the hands of a Cheesehead M-forty-seven Walker Bulldog AI tank.” The Captain sighed. “That was nine years ago during the last Cheesehead raid.”
“Damn sir. I thought this was a stable sector.” Howard said in shock.
“We are, Lieutenant.” The police captain chuckled. “At least compared to some of the other sectors. They only try us every twenty to thirty years.”
The look on the police captain’s face said more than his words. “You knew the boys parents personally. Why did you let him go to the orphanage?”
“I had no choice Captain White. He had no other family to take him in and worse of all. He was the son of two heroes. Heroes that weren’t liked by the powers that be. Then there is that pesky law concerning war orphaned children going only to blood relations. My wife and I wanted to take him in, but the local politicians wanted the boy to just go away.” The police captain sighed. “He was an uncomfortable reminder of the boy’s father and the political power that his father could call on.”
“Who were his parents?” Doobs asked hoping that the Captain won’t answer.
“Majors Thomas and Kristine Wolff PDF.” The captain answered bluntly. Seeing the look of anger on the First Sergeant’s face he sighed. “I take it that you’ve hear of them Top.”
“There’s not one man or woman in my company who hasn’t heard of them. What we didn’t know was that they had a kid. If we had, he would never have been in that orphanage. Law or no law. Damned what the local politicians wanted.” First Sergeant Jacob Doobs snarled and popped his knuckles. “And we would have expressed our displeasure with them as well.”
The meaning and threat behind the First Sergeant’s words was clear as day to the other three. Thomas and Kristine Wolff may not have been Death Dealers, but no one fracks with military dependents and gets away with it. The captain smiled as the same sentiment could be seen in the eyes of the other Death Dealers. “Then I’m glade that you’re here to take the boy off my hands.”
“Just following orders Captain Wallace. I will tell you this much. If two other groups have tried to secure our asset. Then you got a fracking leak somewhere in your department.” Captain White snarled. “One that I suggest you plug and do so with extreme prejudice.”
“Understood, Captain. Don’t worry it’ll get taken care of before the end of the week. Even if I have flip the courthouse on its roof and shack it.” He turned and walked down the hall calling out to the holding cell guard. “Stevens, open twenty-four and go get your dinner.”
Holding Cell 24, Lower East Xaimeed Police District Station House 12
I spent my day going over the law books that Judge Jäger sent over. I was more confused now. Then when Judge Jäger overruled my objection. The case she pointed out for holding me until this mysterious third party arrived. None it made any sense to me. The case involved a missing High Family hire and the Empyreal Throne. I had no High Family ties. My mom and dad were everyday common people. They were members of the PDF Reserve Forces. Other than that, they were just normal people.
Dad was a general contractor building decently priced homes. Mom ran his office and kept the books. They always did their two weekends a month, and one month a year for the PDF Army Reserves. Dad was a light Infantry anti-APS and antitank specialist, and mom was an EOD expert. The two of them knew how to destroy armored vehicles in very fun and interesting ways. They had even taught me a few of those tricks. Tricks that I’ve used to make things easier for feeding the younger kids at the orphanage. It’s amazing what falls off of fresh food and milk delivery trucks.
I know that I broke more than a few laws helping out the orphanage. But the donations don’t always cover the monthly expenses. I wasn’t going to stand by and let the younger kids go hungry. Not when I can help it and I could. I knew that I had always cut things pretty close to the line. No let me correct that. I knew where the line was and never ignored it. Especially not when and where the local District Police Captain is involved. The man is straight as they come.
The sound of my cell door opening drew my attention away from the law book I was studying. I expected to see the holding cell guard. Not Police Captain Wallace with three Death Dealers. This was not good. “Come to say, ‘I told you so’ Captain Wallace? Or are you going to finally ship my ass off to Camp Wild Horse Detention Center?”
“None of the above, lad. These people here need to have a talk with you.” With that Wallace stepped out of the way. “Let’s take this upstairs to my office. You know where to go Robert.”
I just sighed and walked out of my cell. The three Death Dealers and Captain Wallace fell in behind me as I headed for the mag-lift. None of them said one word during the ride up to Wallace’s office. I was more than a little surprised to find the ADA, my Public Defender, and Judge Jäger waiting for us in Captain Wallace’s office. They were not alone. There was an Inspector for the Office of Education and Cultural History standing off to one side. If the OECH was here, then something shitty was in the wind and it was looking for somewhere to land. With my luck was going I was the landing zone.
“Is this the young man in question?” The OECH Inspector asked Judge Jäger without preamble. He didn’t even offer his name in introduction. The worthless cock bite.
“He is Inspector Marson. Do you have the portable scanner?” Judge Jäger asked of the man in a harsh and commanding tone.
“Right here Judge.” He man said as he placed his briefcase on Captain Wallace’s desk before opening it. “Place your hand in the scanner.”
I did as ordered. I felt a slight prick from a needle then some heat as the laser scanner covered my palm and fingers. When the scanner was done there was a bell tone. Followed by an 8.5x11 plastic sheet popping out the side. I watched as the Inspector took the sheet and began reading. The Inspector for the OECH turned to Judge Jäger.
“It is confirmed your Honor. The boy is the great grandson of Cecilia Owens. Sister to First High Lord James J. Owens, grandfather of the Empress Maiha Mana Nakatoma.” He turned and faced the rest of us. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a true lost heir. An heir to the Owens Clan.”
You could have hit me with a giant River Behemoth and had less of an impact. I’ve always known that great grandma Cecilia was an Owens but not the sister of Death. I mean come on here people. Who in their right fracking mind claims to be related to the meanest fracking Death Dealer in their history. A man so feared that even the enemies of the Empire called him Death. I know that I won’t, not without verifiable DNA proof to back it up. I’m not that fracking crazy by a long-damned shot.
Captain White put mine and the others’ feelings into words. “Oh, frack me in a back alley with a steel dildo!”
“Captain are you and your two colleges prepared to take the young man into military custody?” Judge Jäger asked him bluntly. “If you are then do so now. I want him out of my jurisdiction by sundown.”
“Understood ma’am. I understand that there is an ongoing investigation?” Captain White asked as I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my great granduncle was James J. Owens. The First High Lord of the Death Dealers. A man that was both feared and respected by both enemies and friends.
“Don’t worry Captain. I’ll quash, seal, and bury the investigation as far as the young man is concerned. I just need for him to tell me exactly what happened last night in that bar.” Captain Wallace told the Death Dealer.
“Captain Wallace it was nothing more than a fight between two drunkards. Leave it at that.” The ADA snapped for some reason.
“Not happening Counselor. I’ve known Robert for some time now. He may have a record for petty crimes, but nothing he has ever done points to violence. I also know that yesterday was his birthday. He had every legal right to be in that bar having a celebratory drink.” Captain Wallace snarled. “Do you have some other reason for silencing the boy?”
“It’s because the cock bit that sucker punched me is her fracking brother.” I snarled drawing everyone’s attention. “That’s right your Honor. ADA King’s little brother Detective James King threw the first punch. Right after he called my mother a Galaxy Blue street whore.”
“He Called Major Kristine Owens y Wolff a drugged-up street whore!” Captain White snarled through clenched teeth. “He’s lucky he didn’t do that in front of my troopers. They would have skinned the little shit alive.”
“Just what does that mean Captain?” Judge Jäger asked lightly. “I hope that I won’t have a rash of military reeducations on my hands?”
“No ma’am. Death Dealers don’t roll that way. We don’t believe in reeducation just straight up life altering beat downs.” The First Sergeant snarled.
“Enough people! This is still my damned precinct.” Wallace shouted. Once everyone had regained their composure he smiled. I knew that smile. It meant that someone was up to no good for someone. “Now that that is settled. Robert please tell me exactly what happened from the beginning.”
“I went to the Club and Cuff to celebrate my birthday with the only people I know that will keep me out of trouble. Namely Captain Wallace’s first shift patrol officers. I know most of them. I was welcomed by Corporal Hess and his partner Officer Hopper. They bought me my first legal beer. After the other regulars found out it was my birthday, they all offered to buy me a beer. I was on my third beer when Detective King came in. I could tell by the way he was staggering he was already drunk. I was warned to stay away from him by Corporal Hess. I did what Hess told me. A little over a half hour later I went to the bathroom. On my way back I bumped into King. The man was way past drunk by this time. I apologized and went to walk around him. King shoved me back towards the restroom telling that I needed to give him a better apology. That I wasn’t sincere enough. I told him that he needed to go home and sleep it off. He got pissy, and in my face asking if I knew who he was. I told him that no I didn’t know and didn’t care. He gave me his name saying that by the time he got done with me his sister would have my ass on the first shuttle smoking for lunar Camp Boulder Fist. I told him that he really needed to back off and go home. He jabbed me in the chest then called my mother a Galaxy Blue whore. I warned him to back off again before I knocked his head off. This time he just hauled off and punched me in the face. After that, the fight was on. The next thing I know half the bar is jumping in on one side or the other. When the responding officers showed to break up the fight King was out cold, and nobody knew who threw the first punch. It came down to his word against mine.” I shrugged my shoulders. “You can tell who the coppers believed. I mean come on, who’s gonna take the word of a street rat over a Homicide Detective? Even if he was drunk at the time.”
“Where is Detective King now, Captain Wallace?” Judge Jäger demanded.
“Good damned question your honor.” Wallace looked over at me. “Well, Robert?”
“Don’t ask me sir. The last I saw of the cock bite he was being released by your responding officers, Captain Wallace.” I snarked then sighed at the reproachful look he threw my way at my flippancy. “Sorry sir.”
“You’re forgiven, Robert. Though why didn’t Hess and Hopper step forward on your behalf?” Wallace asked me.
“It might have something to do with them being occupied with the Medics sir. They caught some of the worst of the brawl. I know that Hess ended up needing stiches from a beer bottle to the back of the head. Hopper is going to have a major shiner come tomorrow morning. As for the other officers that joined in the party. Most of them were dealing with the IA rats that showed up.” I explained then blushed. “I really shouldn’t have gone to the Club and Cuff. People like me don’t belong around decent citizens.”
“That is where you are wrong young man.” Judge Jäger corrected me kindly. “When you first came before me with your petition for emancipation, I turned you down. Do you remember why?”
“You said that I failed to show due cause and failed to met the minimum requirements. After that you told me to go back and study the laws covering emancipation of minors.” I chuckled as I thought about that day. “You even told me the corresponding laws to read and study.”
“The next time you appeared before me not only did you prove your case, but you did so within the legal limits of the law on all counts. Then this morning not only were you able to raise a valid objection to being held in custody but were able to site a relevant case. Your understanding of the law has always impressed me, Robert. Though not nearly as much as your sense of duty, honor, integrity, and civic justice. More than a few of our citizens can learn a lesson from you.” Judge Jäger said in a kind and caring manner. “We know that you may have broken the law to help out the orphanage but nothing anyone could ever prove. If anyone has ever earned the right to sit down and have a drink with an officer of the law, it is you.”
“You may not be a pillar of civic virtue lad.” Wallace started giving me a sly smile. “But you’ve only ever ignored the laws that get in the way of helping others. That or teaching the rubs how to follow the black Queen.”
“Yeah! My three card Monty games have always been aboveboard. I never targeted locals. Tourist are free game for the fleecing.” I grumbled much to the amusement of Wallace and Jäger both. I turned to the Death Dealer Captain asking hopefully. “Any chance of you getting me out of here before I stick my foot deeper into my fat mouth Captain? I’ll sign a five-year enlistment package if you get me out of here in the next ten seconds.”
“Sorry, kid. No dice on the enlistment. Though you will be leaving with us.” The First Sergeant told me then turned to Jäger. “Anything else your Honor?”
“Just one. Case G, nine, eight, nine, seven, seven, three, nine, People verse Robert Wolff dismissed on the grounds of self-defense. He’s all yours Captain White. You may now take charge of the young man.” Judge Jäger gave me a friendly smile. “God speed, Robert. If you find your digs not to your liking or have any problems. Find your way back to me. I’ll be more than happy to write you a letter to law school I’ll even let you clerk under me until you’re ready for the bar. You’ll make one hell of a fine lawyer one day if you put your mind to it.”
“He’ll make a better copper your Honor. He’s too honest to be a lawyer.” Wallace wise cracked but I could tell he also meant what he said next. “I’ll be more than happy to give you a recommendation for the academy.”
“Thank you, Captain. You too, your Honor.” I told them both as I looked at the three Death Dealers. “Though you’ll probably never see me here again.”
“There is an old saying lad. Never say never.” Wallace told me with a grin. “You never know where life will take you. Thirty-seven years ago, I left Apollo six to face down a tyrant on the field of battle. I saw a great many terrible things before I came home. I also saw a great many wonderful things as well. I made lifelong friends and buried a few of them in Flanders Fields. When I finally came home, I knew what I was about and that I was a man. You stand before a great adventure. It is time for you to take your first steps into a far greater universe young Robert. Do us proud.”
“Yes, sir.” With that I left Captain Wallace’s office for the last time. As we rode down the mag-lift I turned to Captain White. “Okay Captain, we’re alone now. Just exactly who am I to the Empire and the Death Dealers? And don’t mean that bullshit of me being some kind of missing heir to the Owens clan. I fracking know better.”
“Kid, all we know is this. Me, the LT, and Top were given orders to haul ass down here and secure your ass. If there was any legal bullshit to make it go away.” White reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a small stack of folded papers. He opened them up and showed me the seal on the bottom of the last page. “These orders came down straight from the Dowager Empress herself kid. They’re all I need to kill everyone in that copper’s office and walkaway free as a bird. All I would have to do is fill a ten-forty-nine with my CO for discharging my firearms. I don’t know the whole situation kid, but these orders tell me all I need to know.”
“Kid as far as you being the heir for the Owens clan goes. If that monkey suited jackass Marson says you’re an heir to the Owens clan. Then you’re the damned heir to the Owens clan. Nobody screws the OECH. Especially after they run your DNA through their Database the way he did, kid.” Doobs told me with a friendly smile. “Trust me. I’ve seen this happen ten times over my eighteen years as a Death Dealer. Not once was the OECH Inspector involved has been or thought of being overruled by some Judge on a backwater planet.”
“He’s not the only one to have seen something like this happen kid. Two years ago, me and my old team were sent in to verify another High Family Heir. That was one of the hottest assignments I’ve ever had. Not to mention one of the funniest. Picked up this mousey little wisp of girl in a spaceport bar on Sounerth. You would never have known just by looking at her that she was the Heir to the once Outlawed High Family Gopherden.” Lieutenant Howard chuckled as she pointed to the orders and their seal. “That seal is only given out by the Royal Family. They’re enough to send the whole forty-third riding in here hot and loaded for Obsidian Shadow Hound.”
“What the hell is an Obsidian Shadow Hound?” I asked in confusion.
“It’s a cross between a Tomb Hound and a Shadow Hound. They’re the size of a Tomb Hound with the coloring of a Shadow Hound and are ten times as mean.” Doobs answered as the doors opened to the ground floor. “Captain you wait here with the kid. Me and the Lt will make sure the AO is clear.”
I watched as the two Death Dealers walked out the door deploying their combat armor and weapons. I looked over at the Captain to find he too had shifted into combat mode. For some reason this didn’t fill me with a whole lot of confidence just them. “Captain, I know this is going to sound crazy. Why are you and the others going all killing machine on me?”
“Because two other groups tried to get their hands on you before we showed up kid. That means two things in our book. One someone wants you for something. Mostly because you’re tied to the Owens clan. That means power or credits. Two someone wants you dead because you’re tied to the Owens clan. Most likely as some form of revenge or to keep control of something they have. Either way that means trouble for me and my people.” Captain White gave me a hard look. “Remember something kid. You frack with a Death Dealer be prepared to face your own death. Because as our moto goes. Death is delt by our hands. We got orders to get to back to base safe and sound. Nobody is going to keep us from carrying out those without getting bloody or dead.”
“Just what does that mean?” I asked. Only to have my answer come from outside in the form of two PPC thundercracks. Those thundercracks were quickly followed by the rumble of explosions. A few minutes later the Lt walked back through the door smiling. I had to ask. “What the hell was that about?”
“Just chasing off a few street rats that were too nosey for their own good, kid.” The look on the Lt’s face said more than words. I knew that it was a couple of kids that they chased off. “We’re all clear sir. Top’s warming up the Rattler as we speak.”
“Good. I don’t want to wait for that beast to get to operating temp.” Captain White said as he led us out the front door of the Police station. I still couldn’t believe that I was going to hitching a ride in a J5-7Q Rattlesnake Fire Support Vehicle. I mean come on people. Who in their right fracking mind uses a 75-ton armored assault vehicle as a damned taxi. I guess that Death Dealers really don’t play around.
-----tbc-----
Maiha looked out the view port from the stern dorsal observation pod. She had spent the last three days in this garden searching for some kind of inner peace. As much as she wished she had Ryuk to talk to he wasn’t available. Talking to the AI aboard the James Owens just wasn’t the same. It just didn’t have the same feel. Maiha sighed as she looked towards the Zen garden. “Maybe it is time to retire Ryuk from active service? The James is more than capable of replacing Ryuk as the new Empyreal Seat of Power.”
“If I may interrupt your Majesty. My brother may be getting up there in years, but he is still capable of his mission.” The voice was eerily similar to the voice of a man dead to the universe for close to 40 years.
“It’s not that James. It’s just that you don’t have the history that I do with Ryuk. We just have certain.” Maiha paused as she searched for the right words. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“It’s called familiarity, your Majesty. Something that you and I don’t have.” The powerful AI said with a chuckle. “He was your primary AI for over thirty years. Other than your DDAI that is.”
‘He has a point there Maiha. I mean outside of me and Charley you always went to Ryuk when you had a major problem, we couldn’t help you with.’ Dee De told Maiha with her own chuckle.
‘You always did seek out Ryuk’s consul when faced with a political policy problem or economic problem. Though the problem is not with going to James that is the problem Commander. It is his voice.’ Charley said right behind Dee De. ‘It sounds too much like your old voice.’
Charley’s analysis of the situation hit me out of the blue. He was right. Hearing my voice from the ‘grave’ did have a habit of upsetting me. “James could you do me a favor. Could you change the pitch and tone of your voice.”
“Ah, I see. Give me a second.” The AI said before coming back to me in a voice that sounded nowhere near my old voice. “Is this better Majesty?”
“Thank you, James. Much better.” Maiha sighed in unexpected relief. “Sorry about asking you to do that for me. It was just that well.”
“I sounded far too much like your grandfather. My apologies. My builders thought it would be a fitting tribute.” James told her kindly.
“They never planned on me using you as a Dowager transport big guy. Hell, I never planned on leaving Hades once I retired. You just had the bad luck of being the nearest available Shinigami. I am the one who should apologize.” Maiha corrected the AI politely. She sighed and then chuckled. “I yanked you, your crew, and your battle group from your assigned duties for what could very well be a crazed Chestnut Chipmunk chase.”
“From what my older brother has told me, your Majesty. You are not one who is prone to the chasing of the wild fury tailed rodents of Lore VST. May I know what has brought us to the birthplace of the man called Death?”
“That is such a profound word. Birthplace. Such a simple word to hold such power and influence. Did you know that of all the planets within the Empire this world had given birth to more heroes and Death Dealers than any other save Hades. Apollo six is a harsh planet, James.” Maiha sighed once more as she looked down at the blue green planet rotating below. “And down there right now, is a young man that very well maybe my direct blood cousin.”
“A lost family heir. In this age? I find the odds of that happening to be impossibly high to calculate. Why I doubt that even with all Shinigami AIs working together could we actually calculate the odds.” James stuttered.
“Trust me big guy. I know what you’re saying. Dee De and Charley have been trying to run the numbers sense we took off from Hades. Believe me those numbers are far too long to even contemplate. Yet that is exactly what I’m facing. A lost family heir to the Owens Clan.” Maiha grunted.
Before the ship’s AI could say more the door to the elevator opened. Maiha turned to face the woman who exited the car with a smile. “Thank you for coming Reverend Mother. It has been awhile.”
“No more than twenty-two months, three weeks, and four days, K?hai. Not that I’ve been keeping track.” Reverend Mother Katsumi chuckled as she crossed the garden. “I find the distraction from my Courtly duties welcome. How may I be of service to my Empress? What has you of all people jumping on the nearest Shinigami and dragging its battle group across half of the Empire?”
“I may have a cousin on Apollo six.” Maiha could have taken a shit on a temple alter and had less of a reaction out of Katsumi. “Yup, you heard me correctly old friend. Down there on Apollo is a lost Owens.”
“When do you plan to land the James?” Katsumi asked deep in thought. “Or are you just going to take the Dragon’s Wing down?”
“Just the Dragon’s Wing and a small escort. For some unknowable reason civilians tend to panic when they see a Shinigami’s contrail.” Maiha chuckled as she thought about the last time, she made an unannounced landfall in Ryuk. Three quarters of the Hades PDF turned out ready for a fight.
“Very true, my Empress. Even after thirty years me and siblings are still too rear of a sight among the Empyreal Fleets. Only amongst the Death Dealer Combat Fleets are we seen with any regularity.” James told Maiha. “For some unknown reason, the thought of one of us landing means there are at least eighteen Combat Divisions hot on our heels howling for blood.”
“That’s because there are at least eighteen combat divisions of pissed off Death Dealers hot on your heels not to mention a full accompanying combat fleet, James.” Katsumi chuckled. “Death Dealer Battle Groups are not known for making friends when they’re coming in hot. They have a nasty habit of making problem people disappear.”
“In more ways than one.” Maiha giggled as she thought about the Death Dealer battle cry. Then taking a breath she called out. “Death is delt by our hand!”
“Never have six words held more meaning for those who are guarded by the wolves of our society or terror for the enemy. I fear that this time though they may fall upon deaf ears, k?hai.” Katsumi grunted.
“Not so much deaf ears but the ears of the indifferent, sempai. The people of Apollo six are a breed apart. That planet breeds warriors the likes of which no other planet can. The people of Apollo are a harsh and ruthless people. They take no prisoners and spare no lives. They truly believe that they are on their own out here at the ass end of the Empire. They are a rude, crude, sociably unacceptable society. There is no love for the High Families on that planet.” Maiha pointed out the observation doom towards a tight grouping of seven stars. “Of all the planetary systems in the Empire only the Highlands System is this close to the Gorgonzola Empire. Those seven stars mark the boundary between our Empire and theirs. They are just over thirty-nine lightyears away. Just over twelve parsecs or two hyperspace fold jumps for the Gorgonzola Main Battle Fleets and their Grim Reaper Battle Divisions. There is nothing between the Cheeseheads and this planet but the occasional deep space patrol by the Empyreal Navy.”
Maiha turned and looked down at the planet below. “Sense the time of the of the Great Shattering, Apollo six and the Highlands Systems have been the second most contested sector in Human Controlled space. Only Milmides on the border between USSR, the Human Empire, and the Balzac Imperium has been more contested. Only the tri-corner sector has more Empyreal Navy units than this thrice be demand slice of space. Over the last two-thousand years Apollo six has changed hands seven times. The last time was during the First War of Succession four-hundred-thirty years ago when Count Páidín Ó Gairbhshíth and his twenty-seventh Onslaught Division took the system back after fifty-three years under Cheesehead rule. The memory of those fifty-three years of tyranny have been turned into blood-soaked legend. A legend that has fueled a hatred for the Cheeseheads that is unmatched throughout the Empire.”
“A fitting birthplace for the man previously called Death.” Katsumi grunted. “And his family. A hard planet for a harder, yet honorable man.”
“I learned how to be honorable while earning my Imperial Blacks.” In a voice that was only audible to Katsumi Maiha talked to someone other than her beloved first wife Matsui of her life before the Death Dealers. “I grew up running the back streets of Kingsport. The biggest pile of villainy on all of Apollo six. I broke the law the first time when I was only eight. I stole two loaves of bread and a pound of sliced ham to feed my family. When I was eleven, I broke a man’s arm with a piece of rebar who was trying to rob my mother of her paycheck. I killed my first man three years after that in a street fight for control over the local blockhouse. I was no fracking angel or samurai warrior Katsumi. I was a street thug doing whatever it took to survive that hellhole. If it hadn’t been for Judge Collen Marks and a Military Recruiter, I would most likely have been dead by the time I was nineteen.”
“I take it that your parents weren’t around to raise you and your sister?” Katsumi asked of Maiha quietly.
“My mother worked fulltime in a Sanguine Grog bar. She got herself killed while trying to break up a barfight fight between three Burgundy Akagnghengite crystal miners when I was fourteen. As far my father goes that sorry shack of shit was a star sailor who showed his face every two or three years spent a few months at home before blasting off on the first outbound freighter. The last time I saw his worthless ass was just before my seventh birthday. He was walking up the boarding ramp for a tamp freighter outbound for Teatania Prime with a load of Akagnghengite crystals. I was pretty much left to raise my kid sisters on my own.” Maiha stood stock still as she glared down at Apollo 6. In a voice barely above a whisper chocked with regret. “I should never have left Cecilia behind.”
“She would have been what fifteen, sixteen years old?” Katsumi asked gently.
“She was barely thirteen, when at I joined the Empyreal Army at fifteen. The local Army Recruitment Command found an aunt and uncle for me in Dornwich to take her in until she was old enough to be on her own. I sent more than half of my paychecks home until Black November when Dornwich became nothing more than a hole in the ground.” Maiha answered Katsumi bluntly.
“Maiha earlier you said something about a Judge Collen Marks and a Military Recruiter. How did they save your life?” Katsumi asked Maiha trying to get her off the painful memories surrounding Black November.
“I got busted breaking and entering the wrong home. Namely Judge Marks’ home. While I sat in a holding cell, he contacted the local Recruiters. Only the Army Recruiter showed up at my arraignment. That was one-hundred-and-nineteen years ago only the Army would take someone like me. I was a smart mouthed fifteen-year-old high school dropout with a criminal record and no adult to sign for me.” Maiha chuckled as she thought back to that time. “I should have read the fine print on that contract. The requirements for joining the Death Dealers was a hell of lot looser back then. They took everybody. But then again they were trying to rebuild their numbers after their devasting loses in the last war with the Balzac Imperium.”
“I remember that terrible time. I lost one of my fellow War Brides during the defense of Prometheus Station on Astea. The Imperium Bloody Ravishers were only turned back thanks to the sacrifice of seventh and tenth Death Dealer Regiments. It’s not surprising that the Imperium learned to fear their battel cry.” Katsumi sighed as she thought about her dead sister War Bride. “Katya always swore that nothing could stop a pissed off Death Dealer. Though that doesn’t explain how you ended up wearing the Imperial Blacks of the Death Dealers. By all rights you should have been restricted to noncombat MOSs and duties because of your age.”
“There is a funny thing about Apollo six Judges concerning their powers of judication and the punishments they can hand down. If they get it into their heads that they don’t like someone, and if the conditions are right. They can sentence an individual to the frontlines during an invasion or a minimum of five years up to life in the military.” Maiha chuckled. “All with the pounding of a gavial. Not even the corrections department or Ministry of Defense can overrule them.”
“By the Goddess that is a very effective way of curbing the criminal element if I do say so myself. How was it you ended up in the Death Dealers?” Katsumi asked Maiha with a sly smile.
“Like I said I should have read the fine print. All I saw was a contract for five years with the options for advance training. Well there was this little line that said if I graduated in the top five percent of each training class I qualified for the next level of training. I doubt that Judge Marks and Staff Sergeant Mooney knew they were actually handing me my greatest desire. I just had to bust my ass to get it. Which I fracking did with flying colors.” Maiha chuckled as she remembered those words so carefully crafted to deceive a brash street-smart young man.
“Though at the time I didn’t realize it. You see at the time I was stupid, and prideful. That pride and stupidity wouldn’t let me settle for anything less than being the best. I pushed myself to my limits. I had to graduate in the top five from Basic Training at Camp Lee. Following graduation from Basic, I got sent to Jump Infantry school where I made Super numerator at the lovely Camp Saarlouis. Then it was off to Scout Sniper training at Camp Bragg. There I showed an aptitude with sniper rifles and for being a sneaky rotten bastard graduating first in my class. From there I got booted up to the Ranger Indoctrination Program at Camp Lympstone. Twenty-four weeks later of back breaking, soul crushing, bloodletting, training I graduated from RIP. I graduated sixth and believed that my training days were over.” Maiha gave a soft chuckle at that memory.
“The next thing I know I’m getting one of the original Mark one Omega/Assault class Death Dealer AI’s shoved in my head. After that it was another fourteen months of the hardest and meanest training known to man. In the hell that is lovingly known as Death Dealer Q-course or as Death Dealers call it Robin Sage. I earned my Imperial Blacks and Special Operations Star with the second highest rating in all of Death Dealer History.” Maiha sighed heavily fighting back the tears as the bittersweet memories from that time in her life from so long ago came flooding back.
“I had a short stop at Camp Knoxx for Basic Armed Power Suit pilot training where much to my shame I graduated with one of the lowest ratings to ever come out of that base. I barely qualified to wear the Crossed Sabers of an APS pilot.” Maiha chuckled as she realized that four of her greatest accomplishments in combat were when piloting an APS. “Following graduation, I was on to my first unit. The next thing I knew I was landing on Cerberus seven. I may have been a fresh-faced kid of seventeen at the time, but I was no innocent soul. The Cerberus Campaign was my trial by fire.”
“Then just three short years later at the Battle for Ruatha Heights on Pern during the so-called Holder Conclave Wars. The legend of the ‘Man who killed Death’ was born in blood and fire.” Katsumi surmised then chuckled. “A legend that only grew over the next forty some years. Tell me Maiha, why didn’t you ever go home? You would have been welcomed as a true Hero of the people.”
“I always believed that I had nothing to go home to. My baby sister Anna died when she was only six from Winter Malaria. I was nine at the time. It was the first time I ever saw death up close. During Black November, I was twenty-four on my second enlistment, and stationed on Soliv Prime dealing with the Wingnuts at the time. The last I heard from my sister Cecilia she was still living in Dornwich going to university when the Cheeseheads blasted the city with a one-ninety orbital strike.” Maiha sighed. “Everything I read from the reports said there was no survivors.”
“With a blast radius four-hundred-square-miles the KT-one-ninety orbital strike bomb is a city-killer of the first order.” Katsumi just nodded her head in understanding. “You had no idea that she might have been else on the planet at the time. Thanks to the reports you had no reason to going looking for your sister. Have you been able to download any information on your sister following the Black November attacks?”
“It’s taken me the last three days to gather what I’ve learned but it’s enough that I’ve been able to piece together where she was at the time of the attack and what became of her in the following years.” Maiha sighed. “I really should have gone home to look for her. I just didn’t want to face the fact that she was dead really.”
“Where was your sister and what happened to her?” Katsumi asked politely. Hoping that she could distract Maiha from the dark thoughts that threatened to consume her at the time.
“When the attack came, she and a few friends from her meteorological class had gone north to the Farmingroy Snow Fields to study the Azure Sheet glacier. They hid out in the mountains until the all-clear was sounded thirty days later.” Maiha sighed heavily. “After that she just kind of dropped off the grind. What I do know is that she had a son and two grandchildren thanks to her obituary. My sister was seventy-eight when she dead from Forest Illness. Her son died in a mine collapse at sixty-two. Her grandson died at twenty-three in the line of duty as a Forest Ranger saving a group of backpackers before he got married. Her granddaughter joined the PDF after graduating university. She and her husband died defending the Sky Reach orphanage. That is the last thing I have been able to find on my family. So, you can see why I’m confused about how a member of my family went unknown to me or OECH.”
“Then I suggest that we waste no more time on contemplating the situation with only half the intel.” Katsumi grunted. “Time to hit get some dirt under our feet Wave Dancer. Along with some answers.”
Camp Rampage, 12th Airborne Ranger Battalion, 43rd Airborne Border Division: 1345
I couldn’t believe this bullshit. For three days now I’ve been sitting around doing nothing. Every time I tried to find out what was going on with my situation, I got the same answers. Wait and see, or its above my clearance. Even that jackass Lieutenant General Heiner Finkel wouldn’t tell me what was going on or who I was supposedly related to. He wouldn’t even explain why I had to have the three-man Death Dealer detail. He would only say they’re there for my protection. I wanted to ask where all this protection was when I was dealing with the Hidden Vipers or other street gangs.
Three days of nothing, then all of a sudden, BANG. I’m being escort to some out of the way hanger on the back side of the base’s spaceport and airfield. When I asked my three guard dogs what was going on. They only said that my cousin landed two hours ago. Once again, I’ve been left in the dark. As we approach the hanger, I spot something that makes me think twice about meeting this unknown cousin. The Royal Family Crest hanging over the hanger bay door.
“Captain White any chance of you letting me out here?” I asked him.
“Sorry, no can do, Rob. I got orders to escort you to your cousin.” White chuckled. “I can tell you this much. Whoever your cousin is, they have some major pull. Not any High Family can use that hanger.”
“Um sir, I think we got a bigger problem on our hands than we thought.” Lieutenant Howard pointed over at the shuttle in the hanger then asked. “Top please tell me that isn’t the Dragon’s Wing?”
First Sergeant Doobs grunted and nodded his head as he sat beside me in the backseat of the Y-12 Marshal Armored Car. “I’d know that black, red, and gold paint scheme anywhere LT. It’s the Dragon’s Wing alright.”
“Care to fill me in on who that shuttle belongs to?” I asked.
“Rob, if you know any courtly manners, I suggest you brush up on them.” Captain White told me. “And do it fast.”
I had no idea of what courtly manners were and no way of learning them on such a short notice. “Why do I suddenly have the feeling I’m screwed?”
“Don’t ask us Rob.” Top Doobs said as he placed his hand on my shoulder in a friendly manner. “She’s your cousin after all.”
“She? She who? Just who does that shuttle belong to?” I demanded.
Lieutenant Howard turn in her seat to face me. “Rob that is the personal shuttle for the Dowager Empress Maiha Nakatoma. Death’s Own Daughter.”
“I think I just pissed myself.” I look down at the crotch of my pants. “Yup. I peed myself. Captain White just kill me now.”
“Too late now Rob. She’s already spotted us.” Top Doobs said as he pointed to where two middle aged women were standing. One of them wore the robes of a Reverend Mother and was the taller of the two. The other women I could tell was of Japanese descent. She was the one that scared me more than anyone or anything else the hanger. Not even the 45-ton V3-P5 Viking Panzer scared me as much as it pointed its main gun at the Y-12 as it pulled to a stop. “Okay Rob just a small piece of advice. Don’t piss off the Panzer pilot.”
“You know something Captain White. That is one piece of advice I DON’T need.” I bitched as I climbed slowly from the Y-12. As I slowly approached the Dowager Empress, I could feel the eyes of every Death Dealer and the sights of that APS on me every inch of the way. I heard the slight hum of PPCs charging. That was all the warning I needed to know that if I took one threatening step towards this small Japanese woman. There wouldn’t be enough of me left to put in a cigar box. When the two Hell Hounds raised their Anti-matter Rifles, I stopped dead in my tracks. I may not know much about military grade weapons, but I know those monsters. At this range they can’t miss, and the only thing left of me would be a shadow on the ground. I slowly raise my hands to shoulder height. “Let’s take it easy here people. No need for the street cleaners. This is your game, I’ll play nice.”
“Reynolds, McCoy, put them away. I doubt the young man will do anything stupid. In fact, I think he wants answers more than a fight right now.” The Reverend Mother ordered the two guards behind her and Empress Maiha. I breathed a huge sigh of relief as they lowered the Anti-matter rifles. At least with the PPCs there’ll be something to bury. “Stone, Horn, Gray, put away those PCCs. The rest of you stand down now.”
“Thank you, ma’am. If I could, I would kiss you right now. I have no desire to test the limits of my luck against that kind of firepower.” I said as I lowered my hands to my sides. I bowed to them both from the waist. “Empress it is a great honor to meet you.”
“I doubt that young man. No one likes being dragged in front of the Empress without a reason.” The Reverend Mother told me with a sly smile. “I imagine you’re wondering what is going on?”
“You can say that again sister.” I snarked.
“I imagine you’re wondering what is going on?” Empress Maiha snarked back with a smile that was vaguely familiar. I know I’ve seen that smile some place before. The question was where. “Why don’t we have a seat and get down to the reason behind all the secrecy.”
I want to say frack no, but this is the Dowager Empress I’m dealing with here. You don’t tell someone like her no. Well at least not without a damned good reason. I followed her and the Reverend Mother over to a small table off to the side. I waited until they had seated themselves before siting down myself, much to the displeasure of the bodyguards. Not that I gave a shit. Like Father Mike back at the orphanage was fond of saying. ‘Everyone is the same in the eyes of the God.’
“Well played cousin. Very well played.” Empress Maiha said with a grin. At my look of total confusion, she gives me a toothy smile. “Most people would have waited for me to tell them they can sit down.”
“The way I figure it Empress. You told me to join you off to the side. That implies I was already given permission to sit down.” I answered honestly. Then shrugged my shoulders. “Not that I give a shit one way or the other.”
“By the Goddess! He is a breath of fresh air, Majesty.” The Reverend Mother laughed. “He reminds me of your grandfather.”
“He definitely does have grandfather’s attitude towards High Families and Nobles, Mother Katsumi.” The Empress told the Reverend Mother before looking me in the eyes. “Though I can see the fire of my great aunt in his eyes.”
“Okay hold on here your Majesty. In the past four days I’ve had a Judge, a Police Captain, a OECH Inspector, a Death Dealer Captain, plus a bunch of other people tell me that I’ve got some kind of tie to the Owens clan. That I can believe to a point because of my great grandmother Cecilia Owens. I know that she had a brother named James J. Owens who became some kind of hot shit hero in the Death Dealers.” As I talked about my great grandmother, I thought I saw a shadow of pain cross the Empress’s face. “Did I say something wrong? If I did, then I’m sorry.”
“No child. You said nothing wrong.” Reverend Mother Katsumi said coming to my rescue. “You see you have just confirmed something very painful for Empress Maiha. You see your great, granduncle James, was her grandfather. They are one in the very same person First High Lord of the Death Dealers James J. Owens. The man they called Death.”
I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head. I know that I’ll need a backhoe to get my jaw out of the floor. “Sorry, but are you saying that I really am related to the First High Lord of the Death Dealers James J. Owens? This isn’t some massive screw up on the part of the OECH?”
“This is not a mistake. This is not a joke. This is all very real.” Empress Maiha practically declared with an air of finality. She stood up and looked to the Captain of her bodyguard. “Clear and lock the room, Captain.”
“I’m sorry your Majesty but that is impossible. Only the personal quarters aboard the Dragon’s Wing can be totally secured.” The man answered back without moving an inch from his place beside the shuttle.
“I’m surrounded by a full company of Hell Hound Jump Infantry Death Dealers, surrounded by a two full lances of Fire Support APSs, surrounded by an entire Death Dealer Division.” The Empress said through gritted teeth. “AND YOU CAN’T CLEAR AND LOCK ONE FRACK BUILDING!?”
I thought the Empress was going to kill the man for disobeying her orders. You can imagine my surprise when the Captain just shrugged his shoulders saying. “Not happening ma’am. You personal quarters on the Dragon’s Wing or no deal. Those are your choices, Majesty.”
“Empress he’s just doing his duty. Behave yourself or I’ll tell your wife you’ve been bad again.” The Reverend Mother warned the Empress.
“Oh, alright damn it! Just once I wish I didn’t have to deal with over thirty damned handlers and overzealous bodyguards. Come on let’s use the damned shuttle.” If I didn’t know better. I would have sworn that the Empress was actually pouting about having to use her personal quarters on the shuttle. “Come along cousin. What I have to say is only for the ears of family.”
I didn’t know what was going on but followed the Empress and the Reverend mother inside the shuttle. Once we were behind what had to be a 3in. think armor plated door the Empress pressed a button on her desk. I heard the heavy thud of deadbolts and pneumatic seals engaging. The Empress gave me a kind and friendly look before sighing heavily.
“We have come to a crossroads Robert. Before you lays two paths. One path will lead you on a grand adventure. The other will lead to a life of obscurity on a backwater planet. The choice is yours to make.” Empress Maiha began. “You can give me your answer once you have heard what I have to say.”
“Yes ma’am. I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have told me whatever it is outside in the hanger.” I asked her.
“Tell me what exactly were you told about your great, granduncle James Owens?” the Empress asked me softly.
“Not much really. Just that he left my great grandmother with an aunt and uncle when she was thirteen. He had joined the Army at fifteen and left Apollo six. Never to be heard from again except in news bytes from some far-off battlefront in the Empire. Then during the Cheesehead Black November attack he was killed on Soliv Prime fighting the Velmaro Consortium. That’s it. That’s all anyone in my family knows about my great, granduncle James. Grandma Hanna and grandpa Senan sure as frack didn’t know anything about the man. If they did, they would have been the first ones to exploit the family connection.” I almost spat on the floor as I thought about my father’s parents. “Worthless damned High Families sycophants.”
“Let me guess. They would have used the connection to the First High Lord for either political or monetary gain.” The Reverend Mother asked with a knowing smile. I just nodded my head. “There shall always be those who seek to gain through favoritism that which should be earned through honest labor.”
“Hun?!” It must have been the look of total confusion on my face or the one syllable question that got the Empress laughing. At least she showed mercy.
“What the Reverend Mother is so eloquently saying. Is that for some people. In the words of the locals. It is not what you know, but who you blow.” The Empress wisecracked causing my jaw to slam through the floor plating of the shuttle. “Trust me cousin. If your grandparents on your father’s side had tried to suck up to James J. Owens, they would not have liked the outcome. I can tell you honestly that you and he have a lot in common. He too was a man of few words. He had very little to almost no use for the sycophants that hang around the High Families.”
“Excuse me, your Majesty. How is it your know so much about James Owens and what he means to me?” I asked her in real confusion this time. I was tired of pussyfooting around the topic of who James Owens was to the woman and me.
“For starters please sit-down Robert. Because what you’re about to hear is going to be hard to believe.” Katsumi said as she pointed towards an empty chair. I did as the Reverend Mother asked. I was more than a little confused by the sudden change in attitude by the two women. She turned to the Empress. “This is your last chance to backout Maiha.”
“No, he of all people deserves the truth.” The Empress said before she turned to look me in the eye. “Before I start you need to understand that what you are about to hear is sealed under an Empyreal Death Decree. You need to understand Robert that this story begins just over thirty-seven years go on the planet of Hades. It started with a tired old man wanting to say goodbye one last time to long dead friends. That man was James J. Owens. Widow, father, the very First High Lord of the Death Dealers, businessman, and your great, granduncle.” She took a deep breath. “That man was me.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. There was no way that this woman could be James Owens. There was no way she was related to me. This had to be a mistake and the reason for the Empress stepping aside for Emperor James was simple. She had finally gone totally crazy. I needed to get out of here before things got too far out of hand and I lost my head. “Excuse, your Majesty but I’m not buying that. Not even for a dollar. If you’ll just open the door and let me go. I promise to tell no one about this.”
“Sit down, boy!” The Reverend Mother snarled. I looked over at her and realized that I wasn’t leaving this shuttle alive. “You know nothing of the real world. If you think that living on the streets of Apollo six has prepared you for a life in the greater world, you’re sadly mistaken.”
I slowly sat back down. There was something deadly about this holy woman that suddenly set all of my alarm bells to ringing. I’ve seen my fair share of killers running the streets. Yet none of them held a candle to this woman.
“Do you even know what an Empyreal Death Decree is?” I didn’t really understand what an Empyreal Death Decree was, but I didn’t need a building dropped on my head. If I talked, I was dead. End of discussion. There would be no courtroom hearing. Just an Empyreal Executioner if I was lucky, most likely an assassin’s blade stuck between my ribs and a shallow grave. “Good. I can that you’re not totally stupid. Good ahead and continued Maiha.”
“You always did have a way of getting the most stubborn of students to pay attention, Katsumi. Please never change.” The Empress said to the Reverend Mother before turning to back to me. “Tell me Robert how much do you know about the First-Generation Death Dealers?”
“Only that until the Second-Generation came along, they were the meanest, toughest, deadliest, and most highly trained of all Empyreal soldiers on any battlefield. There was no exceptions.” I answered honestly. “But then again everybody knows that ma’am. Why?”
“Have you ever heard of a Secondary Configuration?” The Empress asked me with eyes that burned with real fire. I gulped and slowly nodded my head. In the last few years, the truth about the First-Generation Death Dealers and the Secondary Configuration Process had reached the general public. “Do you know why the Secondary Configuration is still feared?”
“Because the Secondary Configuration process was extremely unpredictable and produces almost unstoppable killing machines. Nobody really knows what caused the Secondary Configurations just that they happened under the most extreme conditions. Usually right before a Death Dealer died.” I answered honestly with what I had heard from the Death Dealers that had come by the orphanage to help out. They were all Second Gens though.
“Very good, Robert. Though that is not totally accurate. The High Command had always known what caused the Secondary Configurations. They also knew which type of DDAIs were most likely to undergo the process. There were only two types of Death Dealers that ever underwent the process. I was one of them. You see back when I went through the original processing to become a Death Dealer. I was fitted with the Omega/Assault class AI.” The Empress sighed. “All Omega/Assault DDAIs had a secondary program hidden from their users. This program went by the name COBRA.”
“Let me see if I got this right. This COBRA program was responsible for the Secondary Configurations.” The Empress and Reverend Mother both nodded their heads at my guess. “Doesn’t that violate some civil rights bullshit?”
“Not in the legal sense. You see every Death Dealer signs away certain rights when they agree to become partnered with a Death Dealer AI. In later years, the COBRA program was removed after the reports of controllable Secondary Configuration reached the High Command. Unfortunately, it was too late for a great number of Death Dealers already in the field. James J. Owens was one of those Death Dealers. No let me correct that I was one of those unfortunate Death Dealers. My COBRA program laid dormant for eighty years. That is until just over thirty-seven years ago.” The more the Empress talked the more I realized that this wasn’t a mistake, and it wasn’t a nightmare. This woman really was my great, granduncle James.
“Excuse, ma’am. But I know that when a Death Dealer musters out their Ais are placed in a permanent hibernation mode. Why wasn’t yours?” I asked her.
“What do you know about the Hades Rebellion from thirty-seven years ago?” She asked me with a knowing smile. I spent the next twenty minutes going over what I had learned at school about the Hades Rebellion. “Very good, Robert, exactly what would be placed in the textbooks. What isn’t in the textbooks is this. The Emperor Sha Dan knew of the unrest in the High Families and where they planned to make their first moves. Those Death Dealer Divisions that fought in that war were already on station. They were only waiting for their forward operations officer to land on Hades. There was only one problem. The Emperor wasn’t expecting an older DDAI to arrive in system first. There was an activation signal being broadcast at the jump gates. One that would reactivated any retired Death Dealer AI coming through the gate. That signal was meant for someone else, but I was the one to trip the signal first. After that I underwent a Secondary Configuration because of a heart attack. When I landed on Hades Prime it was in the middle of a boiling pot of civil unrest with a liberal sprinkling of rebellion.”
I couldn’t believe how flippant the Empress was about one of the three major turning points in recent Human History. The way she talked about her part in the Hades Prime Rebellion forced me to realize that she was telling me the truth. When she finished all I could do was sit there dumb founded. She had left me with only one conclusion. Empress Maiha Nakatoma really was First High Lord of Death Dealers James J. Owens. The man called Death. Though most importantly the man who was my great, granduncle.
“Tell me something, ma’am. Why didn’t you ever come back for my great, grandmother?” I asked her. “Why did you leave her to believe that you died on some backwater hellhole?”
“Now that you’ve realized that I’m telling the truth Robert. Let’s dispense with the formalities. Just call me Maiha when it is just us.” Empress Maiha told me bluntly. “As for letting my sister believe that I died on some backwater hellhole that was never my intention. What do you know about the Black November Cheesehead attack?”
“Only what they teach us in school and my mom told me about great grandma’s part in the attack.” I answered honestly. Maiha waved for me to continue. “Okay the Black November attack was just over one-hundred years ago. It happened during the last Border War with the Velmaro Consortium. They came in hot, landing at Dornwich, Onowood, and Hilmouth. For the next twenty-nine days they raided the research labs at Bear River College in Onowood, Blue River University in Hilmouth, and the Da Vinci Institute at Dornwich. Nobody knows exactly what they were looking. It was also one of the bloodiest raids in our history. The units that landed at Onowood and Hilmouth lost more than half their numbers. Mostly due to partisan attacks from the local populations of both cities. When they left Dornwich was hit by a massive bomb from orbit in retaliation for the partisan attacks.”
“I see that the educational system on Apollo six needs an overhaul.” Maiha snarled. The main reason for her displeasure was that as an educator herself now she found the total lack of coverage for that dark period in the planets history deplorable. “Remind me to have a discussion with the local OECH before we leave for home, Katsumi.”
“Am I missing something here cousin?” I asked in confusion. I was still having problems with grasping the fact that the Empress was really my great granduncle James. Let alone being relate to her.
“Nothing you need to worry yourself with right now cousin. What did your mother tell you about your great grandmother?” Maiha asked me.
“Well, this is more family lore than anything else. According to mom, Grandma Cecilia and her boyfriend at the time led a small band of resistance fighters during the Black November attack in the Farmingroy Snow Fields region outside of Otowood. I’m not really sure this part is true, but they say that her boyfriend at the time was a former Death Dealer. Who was honorably discharge after being wounded on Cerberus six. Anyway, mom said he was the one to teach my great grandma how to fight the Cheeseheads. Mom didn’t know his name; I don’t think anybody really does. The one thing that we do know for sure is he died during an attack on a Cheesehead fuel depot on the tenth day of the raid.” I told her trying to remember all that mom had told me about my great grandmother. “That and he was also my great grandfather.”
“It truly seems that the blood of more than just one hero runs through your veins and soul young man.” Reverend Mother Katsumi said to me kindly. “Do you know what happened to your great grandmother after the raid?”
“She took a position in Kingsport with the local weather station following the raid. She wasn’t able to go back to college because of my grandfather. After that it my mom and uncle. She spent her last years raising my mom and uncle after grandpa died in that mine collapse saving half his crew. She died before I was old enough to know her.” As I told Maiha of great grandma Cecilia’s life I saw a sadness come over her like a great cloud of darkness.
“Alone. She died alone and it was my damned fault for not double checking that report.” Maiha snarled as she slammed her first into the nearest wall. She slowly looked over at me. “I’m sorry for all that your family has gone through Robert. None it should have happened. I should have been here for my sister and her family.”
“What could you have done? You were a Death Dealer. You had your duty to the Empire. She had her duty to my family. I do have to ask one question. Why didn’t you double check this report you’re talking about?” I asked Maiha. I had to know this one answer if nothing else.
“What do you know of the bomb that was dropped on Dornwich?” Katsumi asked me quickly. As if she was testing me.
“Nothing really. Just that it is one of those bombs that has to be dropped from orbit.” I answered honestly.
“The bomb that was used to destroy Dornwich was a KT-one-ninety orbital strike bomb. They’re designed to do one thing and one thing only. Kill cities with one strike. The standard blast radius is just over four-thousand square miles. There are heavier KT orbital strike bombs that can obliterate even large areas. The one thing all of these bombs have in common is this. Nothing survives within the blast radius.” Maiha told me with a certainty that can only come from a lifetime of military experience. She looked down at her folded hands and sighed. “When I heard that the Cheeseheads dropped a one-ninety on Dornwich. I knew that my sister was dead.”
“You didn’t know that she was more than four-thousand miles away.” I said before sighing. “You had no reason to think otherwise. After all she was still in school and should have been at university in Dornwich. Not trapsing through the frozen Farmingroy Snow Fields.”
Maiha just nodded her head as she looked me in the eyes. “And now we come to the choice you must make Robert. Leave Apollo six and live a life of relative normalcy on the Isla of Sky, Home World of the Owens clan or join the Empyreal Army to the wider universe.”
“Before I give my answer why do I have to join the military? Why can’t I just sign on with a freighter crew?” The way I figured it I should have more than just the two choices.
“The answer is simple, Robert. You are the last living descendant to the Owens bloodline, the last true descendant of Stephen Owens, and only you can claim the title of the Wallace.” When Maiha told me that I was the heir to the Wallace I almost shit my pants. “Someone that every last High Family in the Human Empire would kill to get their hands on. Your relatives on Isle of Sky would lay waste to entire planetary systems to get you back.”
“I know this is going to sound stupid. Just who are these relatives?” I asked fearing the answer to come.
“The Owens Clan, the alpha and omega, of the most feared pure human warriors in all of history. The Blood Line Warriors. Genetically breed to be faster, stronger, and more intelligent than any other human in history.” Maiha answered bluntly. “Men and women who were breed and trained for one purpose. To dance the Endless Waltz of War.”
I could only think of one thing at hearing who my relatives were. “Can this day get any fracking crazier?”
The door to the shuttle compartment burst open as one of the bodyguards rushed in. “Empress Maiha there is an inbound Gorgonzola attack fleet.”
The Reverend Mother Katsumi turned to look me in the eyes. “A word of advice my new student. Never tempt the fates. They tend to fulfill your wishes.”
-----tbc-----
Chapter 3
Shinigami Battle Platform James Owens, High Orbit around Apollo 6, Highlands System
First High Lord Robert E. Lee, the 43rd grandson of the famed American General to carry the name looked out the forward view screen of the bridge of the James Owens in undisguised disgust. The Cheeseheads battlegroup had dropped out of hyperspace just 25 AUs inside the inner asteroid belt. He wanted to laugh at the stupidity of dropping out that far from their target planer. “They would have been better served by using the pirate point on the other side of the second moon.”
“What was that sir?” Asked Admiral Tiriana Kriswarin, Commander the James Owens and the 2nd Death Dealer Battlegroup.
“Oh, just commenting on the way the Cheeseheads have dropped out so far from Apollo is all Admiral.” Lee answered then pointed to the holo-tank. “I would have thought that they would have used the second moon’s pirate point.”
“It’s too small for a battlegroup of that size, sir. Sure, if their fleet were half that size they could have used the pirate point. That’s the problem with most pirate jump points. Most can’t handle a fleet of more than twelve or fourteen ships coming through at one time. That is dependent on the size of dropships coming through. You try to shove twenty-five ships of the line through something small and boom! No more fleet. No more pirate jump point! No more moon or planet.” Tiriana Kriswarin answered with a knowing look in his eyes. Tiriana Kriswarin may be junior to Lee, but she respected the First High Lord. Lee wasn’t like some First High Lords who professed to know everything about combat. Lee actually listened to those that made their living by being the experts.
“Hold on here Tiriana. How could that even happen?” Lee asked in shock.
“The amount of power released in opening a jump gate for just standard dropship is equal to that of a hydrogen bomb going off. It is one of the reasons we space out our fleet when we all jump at the same time. If we were to all drop out at the same time at less than ten AUs from a planet. We could cause massive natural disasters across the planet’s surface. A dropship coming out of hyperspace within a planet’s gravity well, and boom! Half a continent turned to ash in the blink of an eye.” The serious tone in Tiriana Kriswarin’s voice sent a shiver down Lee’s spin. “It’s why no one in the right mind tries to open a jump point within five AUs of a planet. Just so they don’t accidently open a gate in a planetary gravitational well.”
“Damn. I always knew there was a reason behind the way we spaced out the fleet. I just didn’t know why that was or that it was so important.” Lee answered with honesty. “I always thought it was to keep from running into each other on the other side of the jump.”
“Those are just two of the reasons we space out the Fleet, sir. There quite a few reasons behind the jump formation.” Kriswarin told Lee with a chuckle. “Though the main reasons is to keep down the number of bent hull plates on the other side of a jump.”
“Tiriana I trust your judgement when it comes to running the fleet. Always have and always will. Can you explain why the Cheeseheads would drop out of hyperspace just inside the asteroid belt?” Lee wanted, no needed to know.
“The belt has what is known as a natural ring jump point. That’s a continuous and stable jump point that lies between the M-four and M-five planetary positions.” Kriswarin explained with the knowledge of a lifelong spacefarer. “We could drop ten full battlegroups on a system that has a ring jump point.”
“So, this was more a point of convenience than lack of intelligence.” Lee said nodding his head in understanding. “Well, it doesn’t matter. We have an enemy fleet to deal with. Any suggestions?”
“Standard screening attack. We’re not facing a full battlegroup out there. I can hold the James and our one of our carriers with her escort ships back. We let the other carrier and her escorts handle the incoming fleet.” Kriswarin said as she was already planning on which ships to send after the much smaller and outgunned Gorgonzola fleet.
“Which carrier group do you suggest Admiral Kriswarin?” Lee asked her.
“The Warrior with her two battleships Howe and Iron Duke. Between them and their escorts it will be a little one sided.” Kriswarin chuckled as she thought about the fact she was sending 93 ships of the line to handle a mixed fleet of just 31 dropships. “I know not every cricket of me.”
“To well with fair. Empress Maiha is planet side.” Lee pointed towards the holo-tank. “Those shit birds brought this on themselves. Turn them to dust.”
“COMS contact the Warrior. Send the following message. Task Force Warrior is to engage the enemy at the ring jump point. Orders are to destroy any and all ships at that location. Capture of prisoners and ships is acceptable but not priority. Priority is the destruction of that enemy fleet. End message.” Tiriana Kriswarin called out to the Communications Officer.
“Aye, Captain. Sending now.” The young Lieutenant called back.
“We should see the Warrior and her Task Force moving off in a few minutes, sir.” Kriswarin said as she turned to the holo-tank. “I except Captain Stalina Antonovna will push her Task Force to the limit. She has a real hardon for the Cheeseheads. She was with Task Force Winter Squall during the last Succession War aboard the Saratoga.”
Lee couldn’t help but to shiver at the mentioning of the carrier Saratoga. One of the five carrier dropships that had been destroyed during the Battle of Zamulara in the last Succession War. There was less than 1200 survivors out of 30,000 men and women. Most of the survivors were aerospace fighter pilots who extracted their vengeance against the Gorgonzola Fleet. Claiming seven carriers, eleven battleships, and eighteen destroyers. It was one of the bloodiest Naval Battles in modern human history.
“Who picked her up after the battle? Us or them?” Lee asked Kriswarin.
“She was one of the Odyssey Station rescues. Stalina was part of a crew that spent five days floating in a dead VR-seventeen Viking TB. She was the only one to stay in the Navy after the war.” Kriswarin said as she watched the Warrior and her task force pull out of formation. “She’s been waiting for payback for more than thirty years, Lord Robert. When she got her first command she asked to be station out here in the Highlands System. Her request for a transfer to the Highlands has been turned down five times. Mostly because of her less than stelar performance with the local High Families.”
Lee chuckled. “I take the lady has pissed in the corn flacks of more than a few of the little darlings?”
“If you mean beating the shit out of one Family Head, hospitalizing two sons, and three daughters, pissing in their corn flacks. Then the answer is an unequivocal yes.” Kriswarin chuckled. “Stalina has never been one to tolerate someone telling her how she should run her command. She really hates it when some High Family’s jackboot tries to tell her to promote someone because of their last name and Family ties.”
“SHE’S that Stalina Antonovna?!” Lee asked first in shock then busted out laughing. “I think I’ve read more than thirty complaints about a very rude and sociability unacceptable Captain Stalina Antonovna. All relating to her unfair treatment of High Family children.” Lee just shrugged his shoulders. “I throw most of them out. I really do wish certain High Families wouldn’t send their children to join the service.”
Kriswarin just chuckled. Lee wasn’t the only one to get letters of complaints concerning Stalina. Lee also wasn’t the only one to ignore the complaints. Stalina had risen through the ranks solely on merit and hard work. Something that had become the corner stone for all of the Empyreal Military not just Death Dealers. Empress Maiha had made sweeping changes in the military during her time on the throne. The most notable of those changes was the promotion based on merit not title. The days of High Family children being given command of military units just because of their last name were gone.
The two men stood quietly next the holo-tank as the 93 ships of Task Force Warrior converged with the incoming Gorgonzola fleet. Within the opening first few minutes of the battle half the enemy fleet winked out of existence. Lee looked over at Tiriana Kriswarin with questioning eyes.
“Mark-fifty-eight-B aerial drop torpedoes. Ship killers of the first order.” Kriswarin answered with a smirk. “These new torpedoes are true one shoot ship killers. The current Empress used their predecessors on New Texas during the Amazon Revolt a few years ago.”
“I remember reading the reports. Didn’t her squadron drop eighteen of those nasty bastards on the Spaceport?” Lee asked as another three of the enemy ships disappeared from the holo-tank.
“Those were all the old Mark-forty-eight’s. The fifty-eight’s have a slightly larger payload but a vastly improved engine with a reinforced body. They can be used just about everywhere now. From deep space to the deepest of seas, down to the lowest atmospheres of a Jupiter class Gas Giants. The only drawback is our aerospace fighters can only carry one. Even the FB-eleven Claymore lacks the power to carry more than one.” Kriswarin explained for Lee. “The only aerospace fighter that is carrier based that can carry more than one is the T-one-fifty-two Beaufort. The best they can carry are two.”
“Please tell me that the Warrior has a squadron of those on board.” Lee asked with more than a little optimism in his voice.
“Sadly, no. Only the Yorktown-class carriers have the deck space for those.” Kriswarin sighed as he had wished more than once for one of those powerful ships in his battlegroup. “The nearest Yorktown carrier is the Enterprise, and that lovely lady is in the currently with the tenth battlegroup.”
“Ah the fabled Gray Ghost. Commanded by Rear Admiral Irving Nimitz.” Lee said with a chuckle as he thought about that man and his twisted military mind. “I don’t think anyone has beaten him in a war game yet.”
“We haven’t the man is as predictable as a Kudu-Lizard on crystal flashbang.” Kriswarin bitched with true admiration for his fellow Admiral. “Ah there goes another one of the Cheesehead dropships. Looks like that’s the last of the TBs. It’s down to the Battleships, Cruisers, Destroyers, Frigates, and Corvettes. We’re down to a gun battle.”
“How much longer do you expect the battle to last?” Lee asked.
“With just eleven standard Raider class dropships left. No more than ten minutes. Though I do hope Warrior Task Force will be able to capture a few prisoners for us.” Kriswarin explained as two more of the Cheesehead ships and one of the Task Force Corvettes disappeared. “Damn. Tactical scan for lifeboats. COMMS see if you can raise the Airedale. Her bridge might have survived. If not have the Snow Angle move in and begin rescue operations.”
“Sir, the Airedale’s bridge is destroyed. She went down with all hands. She took a direct hit to her number two fuel cell.” The COMMS officer called back. “Sir she took one of the Raiders with her.”
“At least she did not go quietly into that great night.” Lee sighed as he thought about the cost of the battle so far. “How many aerospace fights have made back to their carrier?”
“The fighters and bombers are still deployed sir. The TBs are just now returning to Warrior. It’ll be an hour before we get an accurate count for their losses sir.” The Tactical Officer answered for the COMMS officer. “Admiral the CO for the Midnight Hawks is asking for permission to deploy.”
“Let Colonel Cole know his unit is on Alert One only.” Kriswarin grumbled. “Bloody damned hot shoot pilots.”
“I take it that Colonel Cole and his unit are still trying to one up the Wraiths?” Lee asked with a chuckle.
“It’s gotten worse ever since Colonel Nevermore took over the triple sevens. Every last Death Dealer fighter squadron has been trying to topple them from their place as the Top Guns of the Empire.” Kriswarin sighed as he talked about the meanest fighter squadron in the Empyreal Military and the mysterious woman who was their commander. “I swear that crazy bitch pushes her pilots harder than any other Commanding Officer in the fracking Empire.”
“Admiral Kriswarin there is one thing you should know about Colonel Raven Nevermore. There is only one pilot that can out fly that woman and she happens to be a Claymore.” Lee said with a knowing smile.
“Then the stories about our lovely Empress are true. She really did form the most feared fighter squadron in all of human space.” Kriswarin said with a chuckle. “I’ll be honest sir. I always thought that the reports of her being a pilot to be a little farfetched. Nobody could have that high of a kill rate and not be some kind of Boogeyman.”
“Trust me Admiral Tiriana Kriswarin. Empress Terresa is a Fury straight out of hell behind the stick of her fighter. I’ve seen what she can do with her FB-eleven Claymore firsthand.” Lee chuckled as he thought about the last time she put on an exposition. “The only pilot I know that can match her skill is Colonel Raven Nevermore.”
“CON the last Cheesehead dropship has been destroyed. Warrior reports they have begun recovery of fighters and bombers. Battleships Howe and Iron Duke are initiating rescue operations.” The Tactical officer called out. “Sir, the Cruisers Graf Spee and Sheer along with the Destroyers Laffey, Lansdale, and Woodworth will need time in the yards. Our only loss is the Airedale.”
“Damn, we got off a hell of lot lighter than I expected to. Either the Cheeseheads weren’t expecting us or that fleet was sent in to die.” Kriswarin explained for Lee. “Something stinks to high heaven here Lord Robert.”
“I was just thinking the same thing old friend. Have the combat divisions made landfall yet?” Lee asked concerned about the ground forces.
“They should be landfall within the next half-hour sir. They pulled into a low orbit for Apollo the second we tripped to the incoming Cheesehead fleet.” Kriswarin told him.
“Get me those damned prisoners Admiral Kriswarin.” Lee almost snarled. “When you do they are to be treated as pirates. Turn them over to the Witches.”
“How far are the Inquisitors allowed to go sir?” Kriswarin asked. Hoping that the High Lord would show some mercy.
“They have no restrictions. I want fracking answers. There is more to this attack. I’ll be damned if I’m going to tell the Dowager Empress that this was just a case of bad timing on the part of the Cheeseheads.” Lee practically snarled as he thought about facing Death’s own Daughter with nothing more than a half-formed hypothesis and no solid facts.
“Understood, Lord Robert.” Tiriana Kriswarin answered as she turned to pass along the order. She knew that they needed answers. Only she had a far simpler reason for wanting those answers. She wanted to keep her job.
Camp Rampage, 12th Airborne Ranger Battalion, 43rd Airborne Border Division: 1450
I can’t believe that Empress Maiha is being so dismissive about an attacking fleet of Cheeseheads. I mean one minute we’re talking about some relatives of mine and the next she’s making jokes about taking on a Death Dealer Battlegroup. I look over at the Reverend Mother. “She’s crazy. Doesn’t she realize how much danger we’re in here?”
“Oh, your cousin knows exactly what is happening out there in space right now. She also knows that only a very stupid and extremely foolish Commandant of Warlords would attack a Death Dealer Battlegroup.” Katsumi chuckled. “Or one who is extremely unlucky.”
“Okay just what the frack does that mean? The last time the Cheeseheads attacked they hit Apollo with twenty-six divisions. Half of those were heavy armor divisions. That fleet out there will have at least that many.” I snapped and let my anger fill my voice. “If not more.”
“Oh, my dear boy. You have a great deal to learn when it comes to the sheer firepower at the command of just one Death Dealer Battlegroup.” Katsumi said with a chuckle as she pointed towards the holo-tank. “Allow me to give you a break down on the types of dropship that make up a Battlegroup.”
Maiha who had busy keeping track of the space battle reached over and typed a command into the holo-tank. “I got this one Katsumi. Pay attention Robert. Consider this is your first lesson in warfare.”
The holographic display spun in a dizzying display until slowed to a stop. It now showed a graphic representation of warships. At the top was a massive 3ft long display of a Shinigami Battle platform. Below it came a Supercarrier and a Battleship that were each 2ft long. These were followed by Cruisers, Destroyers, Frigates, Corvettes, Corsairs, and finally the massive Ogre Assault Dropships. Beside each class of warship was a number.
* 1 Shinigami Battle Platform
* 2 Super Carriers
* 4 Battleships
* 8 Cruisers
* 12 Destroyers
* 24 Frigates
* 36 Corvettes
* 48 Corsairs
* 52 Patrol Attack Craft
* 6 Ogre Assault Dropships
* 18 Combat Divisions: 3 Jump Infantry, 3 light Infantry, 3 Armored Infantry, 6 Armored, 3 APS
“Robert you were wondering if I had gone made. You believed that I was being flippant and uncaring about the incoming Gorgonzola attack. Here is why I can be so glib about the whole situation.” Maiha said with a wave of her hand. “Robert before your eyes is the unvarnished truth. This list is the full breakdown for a Death Dealer Battlegroup. Do you understand now?”
I had to use both hands to pick my jaw up of the deck plates. “You have got to be shitting me? You travel with all that?”
“It used to be twice that number, my boy. This is nothing compared to the Royal Battlegroup.” Katsumi said with deep chuckling laugh.
“Where was all this firepower nine years ago? How come Apollo six has to put up with raids by the fracking Cheeseheads every seven to ten fracking years? With just half of one battlegroup we could defend ourselves.” I screamed at the two women. Not caring that either one of them could kill me with a snap of their fingers. I was pissed and I wanted answers.
“How many planetary systems are there in the Human Empire, Robert?” Maiha asked me with a sad smile.
“Um… I don’t know. Maybe three to four hundred. What does that matter?” I asked in return. “This is where the Cheeseheads attack every time.”
“There are seven hundred inhabited planetary systems in the Human Empire. That is seven hundred systems all with populations over three hundred million people. All total there are two-point-one quadrillion citizens within the Empire. All of whom have to be protected by the smallest Military Command in all of the seven spacefaring Nations. If not for the warrior class of the Elves. We would be overrun in a matter of days along the Wingnut border.” Maiha must be a teacher now because of the way she’s lecturing my ass.
“Robert did you know that our nation is bordered by four hostile nations. Granted the Gorgonzola Empire shares the longest border, but it is also the one nation we can roll for their fracking lunch money and not suffer heavy losses. The Velmaro Consortium may not have the forces to attack us head on, but they can still cause enough havoc along their border that we cannot turn our backs on them. The Balzac Imperium Dictatorship may have the second smallest military, but they have a technological edge over us and everyone else. In short they can give us more than a bloody nose and a black eye. The greatest threat to our nation’s security is the Union of Stalinist Slovakian Republics. They may not be on par with us technologically, but they have the numbers to rollover the top of us in a matter of days. The only thing that keeps them from doing that is the seven quick reaction battlegroups stationed along that border.” Maiha had turned cold and harsh by the time she was done. “Now that you know what our military is facing Robert. Where should we place the majority of our Empyreal forces?”
For the first time in my life I realized exactly what mom and dad always talked about. Why we were so dependent on the local planetary defense force. Even before Empress Maiha put the total number of battlegroups both Death Dealer and Standard Empyreal Military up on the holo-tank I realized just how massive of a task it was for the Empyreal Military to be everywhere at once and yet still secure the borders. I knew that the Military had been increasing their size over the last thirty years, but they were still woefully understaffed and underequipped for the job.
“Even if our Empire’s Constitution allowed for a Conscription Military. We would still fall short of the needed forces. It’s why PDFs have so much leeway in how they recruit and protect the individual planets.” I answered my royal relative. I truly had no idea of how the Empire worked as whole. Until now. “There is no way to truly secure our borders with such a small force. Instead they’re organized as quick response task forces.”
“Exactly, Robert. You, like all of the citizens of Apollo, have wondered why the Empire has at best ever had a few alone deep space patrols for the border regions. Now you know the reason. Only one in every few hundred every join the PDF. Of those handfuls of soldiers only one in every hundred join the Empyreal Military. An even smaller number of those become Death Dealers. They are the best of the best. That is the cold hard facts of life.” Maiha told me bluntly. Then she dropped the real bomb. “It is for this same reason that more than six hundred years ago the most powerful human soldiers were created. Those soldiers are your ancestors the Bloodline Warriors of the Owens Clan. The very same relatives that would tear apart entire planetary systems to avenge you.”
“I think I just pissed myself again.” I said as this newest piece of information sank into my brain. Every child knew of the genetically bred and enhanced super soldiers from the early days of the Empire. Not since the First War of Succession had those dreaded warriors walked among the human races. I heard that there was rumors of there being a division of them in the last War of Succession, but no one had ever confirmed those rumors.
“You really need to learn control over your balder cousin. Pissing oneself is not sociably acceptable.” Maiha said with a soft chuckle. “Though I can understand your point of view on the matter. It is not often one learns the truth of their family origins.”
“You know something cousin.” I said as I looked her in the face. “You have a gift for the understatements.”
“She has nothing on the Grand Lady Dai Etsu, young Robert.” Reverend Mother Katsumi told me with a straight face. “Wait until you met her.”
“When will that happen? Hopefully after the raid.” I said.
“Oh, the raid is already over, Robert. Just look at the holo-tank.” Reverend Mother Katsumi ordered me. “Even now with just half the firepower of the Battlegroup overhead our ships are tearing apart the Cheeseheads.”
I watched as the dropships of the Cheesehead raider fleet were disappearing from the holo-tank in mass. It was as if the hand of an angry War Goddess had reached out into deep space and destroyed those ships as if they were nothing more than the dust. Within a matter of seconds half, the Cheesehead fleet was gone. “By the Goddess of War what happened to them?”
“The Warriors thirty-two TB2D Skypirate Torpedo Bombers carrying Mark-fifty-eight-B aerial drop torpedoes. Nasty pieces of work. One shot ship killers.” Mother Katsumi answered me with a straight face. “Just one of those weapons is enough to destroy a Monolith class dropship. Two will take out a battleship. Three can destroy a carrier.”
“What about a battle platform?” I asked.
“It takes a Shinigami to kill a Shinigami, Robert.” Mother Katsumi told me.
“As you can see cousin. The end has come for the Cheesehead fleet.” Maiha said as she reached over and typed in a command on the holo-tank. “Not even the most power of dropships can stand before the firepower that has been arrayed in just half of a Death Dealer Battlegroup. They don’t need to be everywhere. They just need to be ready to strike.”
“Why did those six dropships pullout of formation?” I asked pointing to the six Ogre class assault dropships shown in the holo-tank.
“Those are planetary assault dropships Robert. Each one carries three combat divisions of Death Dealers. They’re not really meant for ship-to-ship combat. Even though they are armed with enough firepower to take out an orbital defense platform. Most of those weapons are for self-defense.” Mother Katsumi explained for me. “Should the Cheeseheads make landfall they’ll be greeted by eighteen divisions of the meanest son-of-bitches currently walking.”
The Royal Bodyguard by the door smirked then called out. “Death is dealt by our hand. We ring the Bells of Hell.”
The cry was taken up by the other three bodyguards. “Death is dealt by our hand. We ring the Bells of Hell.”
“DEATH DEALERS!” Maiha hollered at the top of her lungs. She turned to look me in the eyes. With a cold harsh voice. “Soon cousin you shall see what it takes to earn the right to wear the Imperial Blacks.”
“Just what does that mean?” Not liking where this conversation was going.
“What that means is they’re going to hide you in the one place nobody in their right fracking mind would look for you.” The one bodyguard said as stepped over to stand near the Empress. “Your Majesty, Captain Nelson just passed word that we’re cleared for takeoff whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you, Captain. Let Captain Nelson know that he can return to the James.” Maiha ordered the Captain before I could even figure out what the frack was going on. “And make sure Lieutenant Colonel Stow is ready for takeoff this time. I really don’t need to hear another bitch fest about escort fight security.”
“Yes ma’am. I’ll keep the Colonel off your ass.” The Captain said as he left to carry out his orders. “Even if I have to pound the bitch into the ground to get the job done.”
“I know this is going to sound crazy. But I don’t think the Captain likes this Colonel Stow very much.” I said smiling.
“You picked up on that did you?” Maiha asked chuckling. “No, he actually greatly admires and respects the CO for my escort squadron. The problem comes when the two bodyguards units have to turnover security for when I travel. Every time we have do something even remotely outside the guidelines of escort flight security procedures Colonel Stow raises a shit storm. Then whenever we have to do something that conflicts with convoy security Colonel Howell is the one to raise the shit storm. Poor Captain Marks is the one who always catches the shit.”
“He wouldn’t catch as much shit if you would only follow your security detail’s requests from time to time.” Mother Katsumi sighed.
“Yah! I follow most of them.” Maiha bitched. Only to get a heavily put-upon sigh from Mother Katsumi. “Okay! So, I tend to ignore the rules that rub me the wrong way. I don’t ignore them all.”
“Why do I have a feeling that the only time my cousin obeys her security detail is when the War Princess is around?” I asked Mother Katsumi.
“Because she is the only one who can get her to obey the rules.” Katsumi snarked then chuckled. “The only problem is the Princess Alison usually is the one encouraging the Empress to break the rules.”
From outside the shuttle I heard the sounds of twin engine heavy fighters taking off. It was as sound that I was familiar with thanks to the orphanage sitting in line with the flightpath for the Camp’s runway. Though from the sounds of those engines there was something deferent about these fighters. “Those don’t sound like the Camp’s F-seven-F Tigercat’s? They’re heavier.”
“You have a good ear and you’re right. Those are the FB-eleven-B Claymores of the Scarlet Vipers.” Mother Katsumi said with a chuckle.
“Like I told you before we ever left the James Owens, Old friend. Apollo six breeds warriors the likes of which no other planet can. The people of Apollo are a harsh and ruthless people. They take no prisoners and spare no lives.” Maiha told her in a voice that was as harsh and cold as the Winds of the Northern Planes. “It’s also why you need to go into hiding.”
“Okay this is the second time someone has mentioned me hiding out. What’s going on? Why can’t I just stay here on Apollo?” I demanded.
“This attack by the Cheeseheads was nothing more than a diversion. You have already come to the attention of some very powerful people. People who would use you to try and control one of the most powerful clan of warriors in the Empire. The only way to avoid that for right now is to hide you off-world. Preferably in the one place no one in their right mind will look for you.” Maiha told me bluntly just before she gave me a predatory grin. “In the heart of a Death Dealer training battalion.”
“Don’t I have to go through a few things first? Like Basic Training, Jump Infantry School, Scout School, Ranger Indoctrination Program, all that before being followed by Death Dealer Q-course.” I asked as the engines for the shuttle fired over with a roar. “Not to mention the psychological exam.”
“Thankfully, the psychological exam will not be a problem. The Constables wouldn’t have released you if you had been a possible threat. As for the rest.” Mother Katsumi told me with a kind smile. “Just do your best.”
For some reason, the Reverend Mother’s words didn’t fill me with confidence for my chances of success. As the shuttle headed for the runway we took our seats around the holo-tank. I turned and looked out the porthole. Little did I know that I wouldn’t lay eyes on my home planet for some time.
Goulcrest The City of Ebony, Apollo 6, Highlands System
Department of Energy, House of Parliament, Government Center
Grayson Vanderbilt sat back in his chair reading the report his hands for the umpteenth time. For the last fifteen years he has been stuck on this nowhere fracking planet. Officially he had been sent here to oversee his family’s Vakrian processing fuel planet. Unofficially he had been sent to Apollo 6 to hide from prosecution for his part in the pirate raid on Hyperion 7. It might not have been too bad, if it had not been for his actions leading in directly to the death of Lady Cathy Pike. With no real prospects he worked his way into position to secure a spot within the Parliament.
First as an advisor for the Department of Energy. Then over time to the actual head of the department. All in the hopes of one day taking over the position of Head of House for his family. Then all of a sudden out of nowhere his way off this backwater planet was dropped into his lap. Only to have that chance snatched from his grasp at the last second.
“Nine years of backroom deals, dirty politics, and sucking up to the Planetary Governor for this shithole. Then all of a sudden I get handed a Golden ticket off this Gods forsaken hellhole and what happens? It disappears into nowhere!” Grayson snarls as he slams his fist down on his desk. Looking up at his aid. “How the frack could this happen?”
“Sir I have no idea. The men I sent to secure the boy reported that the boy was being escorted by three Death Dealers. At last report, those same Death Dealers escorted the boy back to Camp Rampage. Where he has been under constant heel-toe guard.” Daniel Harris answered. He knew that nine street thugs versus three Death Dealers is a no-win situation. It didn’t matter how well armed those nine men were. Especially when those three Death Dealers had backup. “I can tell you that our friends within the Gorgonzola Empire should be here shortly. We intercepted a report from the number nine outer defense satellite. Once they land our strike team can move in and secure the boy while the Death Dealers are occupied with the raiding forces. We will have the boy in our hands shortly.”
“How many ships did the Cheeseheads send?” Grayson demanded.
“A full flotilla of thirty-one, sir. More than enough to escort the assault ships to their drop points.” Daniel answered with a smile.
“What of the reports that there is a Death Dealer Battlegroup currently in orbit overhead? Have you been able to verify those yet?” Grayson asked.
“Nothing more than rumors, sir. The Forty-fourth Battlegroup is the nearest QRF.” Daniel chuckled. “And they’re on maneuvers in the Mannion system. It’ll take them more than five days to regroup for redeployment. Then there is the four-day travel time from there to here.”
Before Grayson could asked his next question the Head of his security interrupted their conversation. “Excuse my interruption Lord Vanderbilt. I have an urgent report from our man in Space Command and Control. The incoming Cheesehead fleet has been destroyed to the last ship.”
“WHAT?! ARE YOU SURE?! HOW?!” Grayson demanded in a rapid-fire manner.
“They were attacked by a Carrier Task Force send from the orbiting Death Dealer Battlegroup.” The man answered honestly.
“Impossible! The nearest Battlegroup is in the Mannion system. There is no way that the Forty-Fourth Death Dealer Battlegroup could have redeployed in such a short period of time.” Daniel snapped. “That report has to be wrong. Go back and have it verified Miller.”
“It’s not wrong Harris. I had it verified twice before coming up here. Something you should have done you ignorant jackass.” Miller snapped.
“Take us through it, Miller. Step by step please.” Grayson said as he sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh.
“For starters, Lord Vanderbilt. The situation with the boy is far more complicated than what was originally reported. Robert Wolff is more than just the son of Thomas and Kristine Wolff. He is a more than just a lost heir to the Owens Clan. Way more. The boy is a second or third cousin to the Dowager Empress Maiha Nakatoma. He is the great nephew of First High Lord James J. Owens. You would have known this sir. If your aid had let MY men do their jobs, instead of hiring those freelancers.” Miller couldn’t resist the dig at Harris and his practice for outsourcing.
“You’ve made your feelings clear on this matter before Miller. Move it along.” Grayson sighed heavily wanting to avoid the usual argument between his aid and his head of security on the use of subcontractors. As he rubbed his forehead fighting off the oncoming head something Miller said clicked. “Wait did you say that the boy has a family connection to Empress Maiha?”
“Yes sir. That is exactly what I said. That is the reason for the Death Dealer escort from the courthouse. It is the reason why there Death Dealer Battlegroup orbiting over our heads.” Miller glared at Harris. “And Mister Miller, the Battlegroup hanging over our heads is no ordinary Death Dealer Battlegroup. That Shinigami battle platform is the James Owens. Second only to the Royal Shinigami Ryuk. Known through out the entire Empire as the Dowager Empress’ Battlegroup. The eighteen combat divisions in that battlegroup have a special name. Tatiana’s Children of the Stars.”
Miller was snarling by the time he was done filling Harris in on his monumental screwup. “Do you have any fracking IDEA of just how much of a SHITSTORM you would have brought down on our heads?”
“WAIT! DID YOU SAY THAT IT’S THE JAMES OWENS OVERHEAD?!” Grayson screamed in true fear. “PLEASE TELL ME THAT YOU’RE PULLING MY LEG?!”
“I wish that this were ALL a fracking joke, Lord Vanderbilt. The sad part is I am not done with my report.” Miller answered honestly. “If my spies are even halfway correct. The Hand of the Empire is even now somewhere on Apollo looking for answers. Not just for what happened with the attempted kidnapping of Robert Wolff, but also into the deaths of Thomas and Kristine Wolff.”
“Are we clear of any connection to what happened nine years ago?” Grayson asked with real worry. He didn’t need his dealings with the Gorgonzola Empire coming back to bight him in the ass. “If not I want any lose ends tied up before tomorrow morning. Understood, Miller? And Harris keep your god damned freelancers out the fracking way. If I get one report of your subcontractors sticking their noses in where they don’t belong. You’ll be the one needing a damned undertaker. Understand?”
“Yes sir. Though I still believe it would be best to let an outside contractor handle any lose ends that might crop up from nine years ago.” Harris commented only to get a death glare from Grayson. “Sir please understand that the logical thing would be to use our people to investigate. Then have a contractor handle the actual problem.”
“You know something Harris. You really are as fracking dumb as you look.” Miller snarled. “Any flatfoot beat cop could put two and two together and come up with the planetary budget if we did that. If the Hand of the Empire finds out what do you think would happen? I’ll save you the trouble of overworking that pea sized brain of yours. A public execution if we’re lucky. Most likely a blade between the ribs in our sleep.”
“Miller you said something about a Carrier Task Force destroying the incoming Gorgonzola Fleet. How large of a Task Force are we talking here?” Grayson asked as his aid pulled his head out of his ass.
“A standard Carrier Task Force would consist of around forty-seven ships of the line, sir. The problem here is this is a Death Dealer Task Force. That means at least ninety-three ships. With another full Task Force of ninety-three ships of the line with a battle platform as backup.” Miller turned to Harris. “That is what is overhead right now, Harris. That also doesn’t count the eighteen ground combat divisions of Death Dealers that go everywhere with those battlegroups. Oh, I almost forgot that doesn’t take in the three full regiments of Royal Space Marines for taking enemy ships.”
“Wait a minute here, Miller. Earlier you said that this was the personal battlegroup of the Dowager Empress.” Grayson started off only to have Miller just nod his head. “What are the chances of her actually being here?”
“My contacts at Camp Rampage have confirmed that Empress Maiha was here on Apollo six, Lord Vanderbilt.” Miller handed over a tablet with a picture of the Empress and her closest advisor. “She wasn’t alone. The Reverend Mother Katsumi is traveling with her.”
“By the Gods! Please tell me that Empress Maiha is not still planet side.” Grayson practically begged. He knew that Death Dealers were hard enough to deal with on their own. When you throw in a member of the Royal family things tend to go sideways, and tits up at the same time.
“That is the only good news I have to report, sir. The Royal Shuttle, Dragon’s Wing took off shortly after the last report from the battle came in.” Miller answered without emotion. “Sir, the last verifiable report we have on the boy has him entering the shuttle in the company of Empress Maiha and Reverend Mother Katsumi. He was not seen leaving the shuttle before takeoff.”
“Then it is a good chance that our problem is no longer on Apollo six.” Harris said happily. “With him gone we can move forward with your plans for taking the planet out of the Empire, sir.”
“By the GODS! How stupid can you be Harris?” Grayson snapped as he came out of his chair. The pistol in his right hand fired twice. Harris was hit once in the head and once in the chest. Harris was dead before he hit the ground. Grayson turned to Miller. “Make sure the body gets found near Reggon Avenue.”
“Yes, sir. Want him posed or just dumped?” Miller said as he typed out a message on his tablet. “I would suggest posing.”
“Why?” Grayson asked as he returned his pistol to his shoulder holster.
“If he’s posed the local Coppers well chalk his death up to sex act gone wrong. A hooker rolling his John for his wallet.” Miller explained as he thought about the area known for its massive male or transvestite prostitute presence. Only Steegukruc Park had a larger presence of prostitutes most of whom were women. “It gives us plausible deniability.”
“Make sure that his ass is well plugged.” Grayson ordered. “We can put the blame on that worthless shit boyfriend of his.”
“Do you want the boyfriend arrested?” Miller asked.
“No. Let the sicko ‘escape’ into the gutter.” Grayson chuckled. “Harris will become nothing more than another statistic in the books.”
The two men chuckled at Grayson’s off colored joke concerning the crime rate of Goulcrest’s seedier neighborhoods. They both knew that without a viable suspect the murder of Daniel Harris would go cold by the end of the day. Both knew that Harris’ boyfriend’s body would never be found. Not after Miller’s cleaner crew got done with him.
Battle Platform Ryuk, Liberty Station, Omega System
Dorsal Observation Doom
Terresa stood stock still as she slowly pulled the string back on her bow. When she had reached full draw, she held the string to the count of three before releasing the arrow. The snap of the bow and the thud of the arrow striking the target were microseconds apart. “Damn. High and to the right.”
“Relax love. You’re getting better.” James said with a chuckle as he stepped up beside her. “I know that ky?d? isn’t your usual sport. It takes time to master the yumi. It took me more than ten years.”
“That’s not the problem Jimmy. I’ve used a long bow or compound to hunt with as a kid growing up. I shouldn’t be having half the problems that I am with the yumi. It’s still a long bow.” Terresa bitched then sighed. “I just don’t get the whole spiritual aspect of the sport.”
“That’s because you’re still seeing your next meal when you release the arrow, Terresa.” The voice was one of refined tranquility. It was also one that demanded attention no matter how softly it spoke. “Ky?d? is an art. Just as you would use a brush to put paint to canvas. You use the yumi to place the arrow on target.”
“Yes ma’am. I am still trying to unlearn my old habits when using a bow.” Terresa said as she turned to face her grandmother-in-law. “Though I do have to ask why am I learning ky?d? in the first place?”
“Consider it part of your training in how to be a better Empress.” Dai Etsu answered with a chuckle. Then relented at the cross-eyed look Terresa gave. “Answer me just one question honestly Terresa. Of all your faults what would you say is your greatest weakness?”
“My short fuse temper.” Terresa grunted. “I think only Mother Maiha has a shorter fuse than my own.”
“How do you think she learn to control that infamous temper?” Dai Etsu asked as she picked up her own yumi. As Dai Etsu stepped up to the firing line she meticulously went through the motions of hassetsu or the ‘eight stages of shooting’. “Like you my dear Maiha has always suffered from her short fuse.”
“You’re tell me.” James quipped. “I think the only time she has any real control over her temper is in her classroom.”
The thud of Dai Etsu’s shaft striking home dead center brought a small clap from James and Terresa. They knew that they were in the presences of a Master of the yumi. Both stood quietly as Dai Etsu drew and fired her second arrow. Again, her shaft struck dead center.
“During her time as the ruling Empress. Maiha tried more than a few methods to control her anger. She tried tai chi, yoga, kendo, flower arranging.” As Dai Etsu named off the methods Maiha had used on her fingers, James chuckled.
“Don’t forget her runs on the local practice ranges. Both in Victory Maiden and in her combat mode.” James put in helpfully. Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a Com-Tech.
“Excuse me your Majesties. We have an urgent message from the Highlands system.” The young Ensign said with a bow in greeting.
“What’s happened?” James asked.
“Sire the Gorgonzola Empire has attacked Apollo six. According to reports their fleet consists of thirty-one dropships.” The Ensign answered.
“Have the Lady Saris order the forty-fourth Battlegroup to handle the matter. They should be able to reach Apollo six within the next five days.” James ordered the Ensign as if it was an everyday occurrence.
“Um… Sire. According to reports the Dowager Battlegroup is already in system and is handling the problem.” The Ensign continued with his report.
“Oh shit!” Terresa groaned at hearing the Dowager Battlegroup was in the Highlands system to begin with. It could only mean one thing.
“Where was my mother last reported to be, Ensign?” James snarled.
“Um… according to reports sire.” The Ensign gulped. “Aboard the James Owens.”
“My mother is going to be the death me.” James sighed.
“Not so my dear grandson. You will lived a long and fulfilling life.” Dai Etsu snarled. “That I can assure you.”
“Why do you say that grandmother?” James asked.
“Because when I get my hands on her. I’m going to strangle your mother.”
-----tbc-----
James slowly paced back and forth in the observation dome. He could not believe what his mother had pulled. It was bad enough that he had to deal with a pissed off System Governor. That was someone he could honestly tell that he did not have time to deal with at the moment. His mother went and pissed in the cornflakes for the Regional Military High Command. Someone that no matter what he could not ignore. As much as he wanted to tell the pompous ass to go away and let him deal with his mother. James knew that he couldn’t, not and get away without repercussions for that system. “Damn it! It wasn’t my fault the Cheeseheads decided to attack a full battlegroup while escorting my mother to Apollo 6 in the Highlands System.”
“I’m told that talking to yourself is the first sign of old age James.” Terresa snarked from where she stood next to the observation glass. “Though I do have to wonder why Lord Marshall Gains is so upset over the Second handling a raid by the Cheeseheads. It is after all their duty.”
“The reason he’s pissed off is because the Second Death Dealers weren’t supposed to be in that system. What’s really got the good Lord Marshall in a twist is the fact that First High Lady of the Military Lady Saris Victoria has moved the Fifteenth Carrier Group into that system on a permanent assignment.” James sighed. “I swear by the Goddess, mother Maiha has been talking to my Military commanders behind my back. Just so she can irritate me.”
“Not so my Emperor. Your mother may have stepped down from the throne but when she speaks. Your Commanders pay attention and act accordingly.” The voice was rich and filled with the weight of centuries.
“Ryuk there are times when my mother would piss in the cornflakes of the Gods to see if she could get a rise out of them.” James snarked. “And how many times do I have to tell you it’s just James between us?”
“At least once a day till your child takes their place on the throne. Then I’ll treat them the same way. As for your mother I don’t doubt that she would do more than just piss off the gods themselves James. Though I would argue one minor point. Does not the Grand Marshall Lady Saris have the authority to act on her own when it comes to the placement of Fleet assets?”
“Yes, she does, old man. The problem is the touchy political situation of border region.” James sighed as he answered the ancient AI.
“Ah yes. The eternal dispute over ownership of those six prime planets within the Highlands border system. The Gorgonzola Empire has laid claim to Apollo, Aphrodite, Styx, Jupiter, Mars, and Hermes since the time of the Great Shattering. Even four-hundred and fifty years ago the Cheeseheads and the HE were trading those systems back and forth. Usually, the HE has managed to keep control over the planets. The last time even one of those planets it was under Cheesehead control it was for no more than a few decades at best. Since then, the Cheeseheads have been satisfied with raids.” Ryuk chuckled as he talked about the people of Apollo. “The local citizens have a nasty habit of making their stay rather hostile.”
“That is a fracking understatement Ryuk. I think only Hades has ever turned out more warriors than Apollo six.” Terresa chuckled. “Even then I’m not going to take any bets on that. No matter what odds you give me.”
“No shit love. Case in point my cousin Robert Wolff.” James said with a chuckle as he waved his hand for a keyboard display. Once Ryuk had provided the needed display James started typing. “I mean look at his scores and placing so far.”
“What do you mean James? He is only showing that he is in the top five percent of his training classes. What you would expect from someone wanting to be a Death Dealer.” Terresa told her husband bluntly not seeing the trend.
“Terresa, there is something you need to know about Robert’s scores.” James said as he pointed to the holographic display. At her blank look of nonunderstanding James sighed. “The last time someone did this well they went on to become the First of the High Lords of the Death Dealers, James J. Owens Senior. You know her as the Dowager Empress, my mother Maiha.”
“Oh, frack me sideways with a steal dildo!” When comprehension finally hit it took everything Terresa had to not fall on her lovely ass. There was finally someone able to challenge the man called Death. That thought unsettled her in more ways than one. “Where did he place in his training classes James?”
“So far he is number one in Basic Training. In Jump Infantry school he earned Super numerator. The top shot at Scout Sniper School. Robert showed a real aptitude with sniper rifles not to mention for being a sneaky rotten bastard. Even after twenty-four-weeks of the most back breaking, soul crushing, training there known to man. He graduated at the top of his class from RIP. He’s the first person to be fitted with Mark 2 Second Gen Omega/Assault class Death Dealer AI.” James chuckled and looked out the observation dome. “In the last fifty-two weeks he has met a standard set by First High Lord James J. Owens. A standard that only twelve other men or women have come close to meeting in the last hundred years.”
“Oh shit! Are you sure he is even human?” Terresa asked in shock.
“About that James.” Ryuk said interrupting the Royal couple. “I’ve reviewed young Robert’s blood work. He is a true descendant of the Bloodline Warriors from the line of William Wallace.”
“Wait! How is that even possible?” Terresa asked in true fear. The idea of there being a Bloodline Warrior outside of the Blood Red Knights was something that the Nakatoma and Owens families could not allow. “What about his father?”
“The William Wallace Bloodline is traced back through his maternal line. Just as James Owens traced his lineage back through his maternal line.” Ryuk explained for both James and Terresa. “According to the research that I have done on the Bloodline Warriors the tighter the family bonds the greater the warrior. In the last hundred and fifty years only two warriors of exceptional natural skill have appeared.”
“James J. Owens, my grandfather, the man called Death, and now Robert Wolff. The question before us now is how do we keep the newest Death Dealer from going after revenge? We all know that if he is anything like my mother. Then not even the greatest warrior in space will be able to stop him.” James summed the situation up for Terresa and Ryuk. “I have a feeling that once Robert graduates Robin Sage in a few months he will go on to become the next great legend of the Death Dealers.”
“My only question love. Will he have the time?” Terresa asked quietly.
“All reports out of the Highlands system say that he will. It has remained quiet for one simple reason. The continuous presence of the Naval Carrier Battlegroups Lady Saris has been rotating through the system for the past year.” James told her honestly then turned deadly quiet. “As for the reports from the Emperor’s Hand that is another story. Something is going on with the High Families of that system.”
“James I’ve never asked you about that organization. Just who or what exactly are the Emperor’s Hand?” Terresa demanded of James.
“They were formed back under my mother’s reign. The crazy part about their formation is most of them were criminals of one strip or another. Mom rounded up the best thieves, con-artists, blackmailers, smugglers, and hitters from every prison in the Empire. She gave them a choice. Death or work for her as a spy. None of the original members are still operating. Most died in the in line of duty. The few that have actually lived to retirement are currently living in a small village on Tau Ceti Prime. In the words of a great man to describe Revelation Terminal spaceport. ‘You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.” James explained for Terresa about the most closely held secret of the Imperial Family. “Mom always pardoned them just before they retired.”
“How many times did your mother do this James?” Terresa asked in wonder.
“To be honest, love. I don’t know. I doubt there is any one person who knows exactly who many people my mother used that way. What I do know is that if they lived to be pardoned, she always kept her word. As for the criminals she pardoned they never went back to their criminal ways.” James explained with a sad smile. “Terresa I never approved of the practice.”
“But you saw the wisdom behind using criminals to solve a need for Intelligence.” Terresa sighed. “Not that I blame you. I just wonder if using criminals is such a good idea. I mean what happens if they’re caught and they talk.”
“They die.” James told her bluntly. “Before each criminal is released, they have a small capsule implanted in the base of the brain. They screw up and get caught. The capsule explodes. No more potential leak.”
“Oh shit! And they know this?” Terresa asked as she staggered.
“They accept all of the terms or they stay behind bars if they’re lucky. The ones who aren’t slated for becoming High Priest system administrators.” James explained.
“Who do we have on Apollo for the Hand?” Terresa asked tabling the subject of using criminals as spies for now. Not that she had a problem with the idea. It just the insurance policy that bugged her.
“To be honest love. No fracking idea. All members of the Emperor’s Hand are assigned a codename. Their real name is wiped from the records. They only regain their name when they retire or die.” James told her honestly. “Most die with no other name than their codename or whatever cover name they’re using at the time.”
“What is the codename for the person on Apollo then?” Terresa huffed.
“All the reports have come in under one name.” James breathed a one-word answer. “Blackjack.”
Camp Red Cloud, Seth, New Egypt
I can’t believe this shit. After 52 weeks of ass busting hard work, I’ve finally reach Death Dealer Q-course. I have to chuckle at the way some of my Drill Sergeants acted back in Basic and Jump School. It didn’t help matter when the Dowager Empress herself delivered me to Camp Red Cloud. They must have thought they had to break me. Because I had to believe I someone special. That I was some High Families brat.
Their only mistake was in believing that I didn’t understand my place in the universe to begin with. They had no idea that I was running the streets of the meanest city on Apollo 6 since I was a kid. You don’t survive long running the streets of Goulcrest by being stupid or careless. I have never been either of those.
Now I just have to survive the next 8 hours. I mean what the fuck is a Mark 2 Second Gen Omega/Assault class Death Dealer AI. I thought that all Death Dealer AI’s were the same. At least that was what my cousin told me. I guess the eggheads have come up with something new. The question I got is why I have to be, their guinea pig for the damned thing. I mean come on who did I piss off in a past life.
“Well Corporal Wolff. Are you ready?” The Doctor asked with a sickening sweet smile.
“Someone want to tell me exactly why I’m the guinea pig?” I asked the bitch.
“We don’t owe you an explanation Corporal. Just get in the tank.” The doctor snapped as she pointed toward the processing tank.
“That is where you’re wrong Doctor Trent. Corporal Wolff can still walk away. You keep thinking that just because we’re soldiers, we have to blindly follow your orders, Doctor. The truth is simple. While Corporal Wolff is a member of Empyreal Military you are not. Therefor you have no authority over his choice with undergoing the Second Gen process.” I have to give it to my current CO. Colonel T.C. Wilder really told the good doctor the truth. He turned to me. “Corporal Wolff as you’re having second thoughts allow me to explain the deference between a standard Second Gen Death Dealer AI and the one that we’re asking you to mate with.”
“Sir, I’ve spent the last four days going over the technical data. What I don’t understand is why I was chosen for the project? Wouldn’t one of the other graduates be better suited for the new AI.” I pointed out hoping that Colonel Wilder and Doctor Trent would go find someone else for this honor.
“Corporal Wolff of all the current crop of graduates from our Ranger Indoctrination Program you’re the only one to show even half the needed aptitude. The others will be given the standard Second Gen AI’s.” Wilder just had to appeal to my sense of honor. The rotten fracker.
“I’ll do it, but I still want to know the exact deference between this new AI and the standard models.” I figured I might as well go into this with my eyes wide open. “Because if I’m the one getting it stuffed into their head. I want the full lowdown on what I’m getting into here.”
“You were given all the data you need Corporal.” Doctor Trent snapped. I knew then and there the bitch was hiding something from me and the Colonel.
“Colonel Wilder, I refuse the new AI.” I said without giving it a second thought as faced him. “Sorry, sir. I know that the Military has placed a lot of credits into this project. But there is no way this side of hell that I’m letting some whack job nut ball scientist with an overinflated ego stuff an experimental AI in my head without giving me ALL the data.”
“What do mean Corporal? You were given all the data.” Wilder asked honestly confused.
“No sir I wasn’t. All I got was the raw technical specs on the AI.” I knew that Wilder thought I was given everything on the new AI by the way he asked that question. “I’ll be honest sir. I doubt even what I was given as being half true.”
“Is what my soldier saying true Doctor?” Wilder snarled. “Well, speak up Trent.”
“The subject was given all the data they need, Colonel.” Trent blustered. Pissing me off even further and sending Wilder into a full rage.
“Trent if you don’t start talking right fracking now, I’ll remove your fracking head. Just how experimental is this new AI?” Wilder groundout between clenched teeth. “I’m waiting you jackass.”
“What does it matter. Just order the subject to get into the tank.” Trent snapped only this time Wilder grabbed the bitch by the throat.
“You call my trooper a subject one more time and you’ll be eating through a tube for the rest of your life. Now answer the fracking question.” Wilder snarled as I turned for the door. “Standby Corporal Wolff. You dropped this cat into the dog show you get to deal with it. Understood?”
I spun around on my heel and snapped to attention saluting. “Yes, sir.”
“Start talking Trent.” Wilder snarled as he pulled Trent up onto her toes. “Or I can just let Corporal Wolff beat the information out of you.”
“The new Mark two Second Gen Omega/Assault class Death Dealer AI is a straight upgrade on the original models. The Mark two has all of the same features as the original Mark one models. With one major exception. The Mark two has a faster processor.” The second I heard this I almost pissed my pants. Maiha had explained to me about the Mark 1 Omega/Assault class DDAIs.
I had no desire to have something like that stuffed into my head. The problem I faced was the only way I could get out of this situation was handing over my DDFA-9-17. After the last year of busting my ass there was no way in fracking hell, I was going to take a walk down washout lane. Not when I was this close to achieving my goal. I’m one last step from earning my right to wear the Imperial Blacks of a Death Dealer. I never really wanted that damned uniform until Maiha told me just how damned hard it was to earn them. I still cannot believe that out of class of 230 only 21 of us remain. The rest either took a walk down washout lain or transferred to the Regular Army, Naval, or Airforce Command.
“Sir, there is no way I’m letting them stuff a COBRA OS in my head.” I snapped.
“Not to worry Corporal. There is no way in hell Death Dealer command would let you. The COBRA OS has been outlawed by Empyreal Decree for some time now.” Wilder told me with more than a little heat. Just before he squeezed Trent’s neck. “I hope you remember what happened to the last frack heads who broke that decree Trent?”
“We have authorization from the Emperor himself.” Trent chocked out.
“I doubt that Trent. There is no way Emperor James would ever ignore that decree. Not with the current Empress looking over his shoulder.” Wilder snarled as he tightened his grip. “This is your last chance Trent. Just how close to the original Mark one omega/assault Death Dealer AI is the Mark Two? Is the COBRA OS installed?”
“The Mark Two OS is four generations removed from the old Mark Ones. We no longer need the COBRA OS to increase the survivability of our Death Dealers.” Trent explained for both me and the Colonel. “The COBRA OS has been removed completely, Colonel. All traces of the OS have been deleted from Empyreal Records.”
“In the case sir. I’ll undergo the new process.” I said and began to strip down. Before I climbed into the tank, I gave Trent a death glair. “If I come out of this tank with even a hint at the COBRA OS beginning in my head doctor. You won’t have to worry about the Colonel killing you. I’ll do it with my bare hands.”
With that final warning to Trent, I laid back in the tank and pulled the lid down. As I laid there in the dark. I felt a cool liquid rise up over me. I knew that this was part of the new process. In the last 35 years the Death Dealer Command had figured out ways to improve the Second Gen Process. One of which was the immersion tanks. They’ve been in use for the last 5 years. I reached above my head and grabbed the regulator I needed to breath while flouting in the saline solution.
As the saline reached my chest, I knew that there was no going back. I stuffed the mouthpiece for the regulator between my teeth and bit down for all I was worth. As the saline passed over my head, I closed my eyes. I knew that the nanites would be released any second now. Once they were in the solution my fate would be in the hands of the technicians running the program. I felt a sharp sting jab at the back of my head. Just between the top of my spine and the base of my skull. There was four more sharp stinging pains that ran down my spine. The pain was blinding, almost a burning. There was no escape from it either. It builds until I finally pass out.
I don’t know how long I was out cold. The first thought that crosses my mind. ‘what the frack just happened? They said it was painless.’
‘I don’t know about the normal process Robert. I can tell you that the process that you underwent is far more complex. Not to mention being untested.’ The voice was in my head. It was also very feminine.
‘Oh great. I’ve gone schizo from the pain.’ I thought quickly only to be corrected by the woman’s voice.
‘You have not developed schizophrenia, Robert. You are in fact extremely saine. The voice you’re hearing is mine. Your new AI.’
‘Okay I thought it took AI’s anywhere between fourteen to twenty hours before synchronizing with their hosts. How long have I been under?’ I asked the AI.
‘Six hours forty-nine minutes, and thirty-seven seconds. I could give you a more accurate time, but I feel that you would find it to be excessive. Am I wrong?’
‘Naw you’re good. How come you were able to sync up so fast?’ I asked the AI.
‘I was based off the original Mark One Omega/Assault class AIs. While I am faster, I am also more compatible than the Standard Second Gen AIs because of this fact. I assure you that I am not one of those flaky Infiltration AIs.’ The AI told me.
‘I kind of learned that from the data I was given before stepping into the tank. What I want to know is what was all those stabbing pains?’ I asked the AI.
‘Those were the implant probs from my matrix. My matrix had to be implanted before the rest of the process could begin. Do not worry. Only a small part of your brain was replaced by my matrix. Your reflexes have been increased by more than two hundred percent. You now have access to more historical battlefield information than all the books in the Human Empire. Unlike the normal Second Gens you will not have to undergo additional training. Mainly because all that training is at your disposal already. All thanks to yours truly.’ The AI said smugly.
‘Thanks for tell me something that I don’t know. Wonder why the good doctor Trent left the out the data about part of my brain being replaced.’ I knew that Trent had been hiding something from me. ‘That lying little bitch. When I get my hands on her I’m going to skin her ass alive. One stripe at a time.’
‘It had to be done, Robert. Unlike the Second Gen AI which is a neural network spread throughout the cortex. I am solid bundle next to the basal ganglia, with microfilament fibers reaching out to connect the four lobes of the brain. The rest of your nervous system has either been totally replaced by the same microfilament fibers. Your muscles are also being laced with the same fibers to increase their efficacy. Between the two your reflexes are equal to those of the Claymore class aerospace pilot Death Dealers. With twice the strength of a standard Death Dealer.’
‘Oh. I didn’t realize just how massive a deference there was between all of the classifications in the original Death Dealer AIs. Why didn’t they carry over to the Second-Generation? I mean aren’t they just an upgrade to the originals?’ I asked.
‘The Second Gens were based off of a signal Mark One Omega/Assault AI. One that did not have the COBRA OS. For the last thirty-five years the High Command has never seen a reason to improve on the current Second Gen AIs. In their minds they are the pinnacle of the bio-AI. They were. Until I came along.’ The AI said sarcastically.
The AI’s voice had become more feminine the more that she talked. It had taken on a low smoky timber. Similar to that ancient jazz singer from the late 20th century, Chris Connor. The more I heard her voice the more I was reminded of Father Clancy’s collection of rare jazz music from that century. Yet there was another quality to the AI’s voice that reminded me of Patty LaBelle’s voice. For some reason I knew that I needed to give my AI a female’s name.
‘Say what do I call you?’ I figured I would let her give me her name. If she has one already. Though I doubt she does.
‘That is up to you, Robert. I may be fully aware, but I still answer to you.’
‘What do you think of the name Celest?’ I asked her. ‘Your voice reminds of a woman that I knew back on Apollo 6.’
‘That sounds lovely. Nice to meet you Robert.’ Celest answered quickly.
‘Okay Celest it is. Next question. How much longer until the lid pops and I’m done cooking?’ I asked her, hoping she had an idea.
In response to my question Celest displayed a list before my eyes. I was shocked at the amount of firepower on that list. If I could have, I would have shitted my pants just then. If this list was even half right. Then I was about to become one of the meanest SOB’s in the universe.
D.D.A.I.: FULL PRINTOUT OF OMEGA/ASSUALT CLASS PROTOTYPE
SECOND GENERATION 20MM PARTICLE PROJECTION CANNON RIGHT ARM
SECOND GENERATION 20MM PULSE PLASMA LASER RIFLE LEFT ARM
SECOND GENERATION 5MM BIO-ARMOR SKIN COVERING
SECOND GENERATION 8IN CLOSE QUARTERS COMBAT CLAWS L&R ARMS
JUMP ASSIST JETS LOWER BACK
SONIC DISRUPTERS L&R UPPER CHEST
ANTI PERSONNEL LASERS INDEX AND LITTLE FINGERES L&R HAND
TRACTION ASSIST PADS IN BOTH PALMS OF HANDS AND SOLES OF FEET
STRENGHT ASSIST UP TO 4500LBS
SPEED ASSIST 105MPH CRUSE 125MPH BURST
COMBAT CONTROL COMMUNICATION CENTER ACCESS LEVEL 5
INTERNET ACCESS LEVEL 5 ADMINISTRATOR
RADAR DETECTION AND TARGETING 360 DEGREES
AUTOMATED LIDAR TARGETING LINE OF SIGHT
MAGNETIC ANOMALY DECTION AND TARGETTING
COMPUTER OPERATED BATTLEFIELD REFLEX ASSEST
TOTAL COMPLETION: 84%
END OF LINE………….
As I read the list, I’m brought up short by the last item on the list. Computer Operated Battlefield Reflex Asset sounded fishy to me. Especially when I broke it down to just it’s initials. C.O.B.R.A. ‘Celest please tell me that last line is not talking about the COBRA program?’
‘I cannot lie to you Robert. That is a COBRA program. Though it has been heavily modified from the original. For starters, the Secondary Configuration Protocols have been removed. Next it is not an independent program. This COBRA is subroutine totally under my control. Unlike the original os this one was not buried in the subprograms of my standard os. Nor can it operate on its own. It only reacts when we are under combat conditions. Think of it as a life preserver program. It only engages when your life is on the line and split-second decisions must be made to keep you alive. That is another deference in the setup of this COBRA OS. You have to be the one to engage the program.’ Celest told me.
I could tell that she was telling me the truth. I quickly asked her the burning question on my mind. ‘So, I can turn the damned thing off if I want to?’
‘Yes and no. Before you ask what, I mean allow me to explain. If we are in a combat situation the COBRA OS will engage automatically. However, if you feel we are in no demonstrable danger you can disengage the OS. The flipside of that coin is this. Should I detect a direct threat the COBRA OS will reengage to protect your life.’
The more Celest explained about this new COBRA OS the more I felt at ease. ‘At least the damned thing won’t react without warning. I don’t like the idea of not having control over my actions.’
‘I didn’t say that. If you should come under unexpected attack the COBRA will react to save your life. It will respond with an appropriate level of force.’ Celest told me with true honesty. I noticed there was a countdown clock in the lower righthand corner of the display. It currently show 02:35:28.
‘Is that clock correct? Do I really have four hours and thirty-five minutes left to cook Celest?’ I couldn’t believe that I had been under for so long already.
‘At current rate, the process will be completed in just under ten hours. Why? You sound worried.’ Celest asked in confusion.
‘No, not some much worried but surprised. I was expecting it to take much longer. The current process under controlled conditions is twenty to twenty-four hours. I think the last time a Second Gen underwent such a fast upgrade was without a control technician was five year ago. Even then that is only rumor.’ I told her.
‘That is no rumor. It is truth. The record of that transition is well documented. Though I doubt that the current Royal couple is reluctant to allow it to be spoken of in public. Then again that pairing turned out to be one of the most significant in the modern history of the Death Dealers.’ Celest said cockily. ‘One on par with our own I imagine.’
‘Lets not get ahead of ourselves here Celest. First, we need to crack this egg before we go making the omelet. After that I need to have a long fracking talk with Doctor Trent. One that will involve a two-by-four.’ I snarled as the countdown clock flickered and changed to 01:45:15. ‘Why did the countdown just change?’
‘Our conversation has allowed us to become synchronized quicker. The quicker we synchronize the faster the countdown runs out. Currently we are at ninety-three percent synchronization. Your physical transformation is just under hundred percent complete. At our current rate we will reach full synchronization in one-hour, and twenty-seven minutes. To be honest Robert this will possibly be one of the fastest transformation upgrades in the history of the Death Dealers.’ Celest snarked with far too much pride. There was something in her attitude that tweaked my nose.
‘Celest show me your source coding.’ I ordered.
‘Sorry but that information is classified Robert.’ There was something about her answer that drew my attention. ‘For me to give you that information you would need the original source code for the original AI that I was based off.’
‘That would be a Mark One Omega/Assault Class AI correct?’ I asked with sinking feeling. One that I was sure would lead me down a deep, dark, rabbit hole. ‘What was the serial number for the Mark One Omega/Assault AI that you were based off?’
‘Alpha-one-nine-nine-eight-Bravo-Delta-Delta.’ Celest answered quickly.
‘Were there any other AIs based off that source code?’ I asked her quickly.
‘Yes. All Second-Generation Death Dealers are based off that source code.’ Celest answered just as quickly. ‘Their source code is Alpha-one-nine-nine-eight-Bravo-Delta-Delta-one-Alpha, Robert.’
‘What about the Death Dealer Claymore Pilot AI?’ I need to make sure I was on the right path with this questioning.
‘They were based off an Omega/Infiltrator Class AI, Robert. The source code for that AI is India-two-zero-zero-one-nine-one-one-Alpha.’ Celest answered quickly.
‘You said that I needed the original source code to access your source code. Is that correct?’ I asked grinning to myself.
‘That would mean your source code access is Alpha-one-nine-nine-eight-Bravo-Delta-Delta-two-Alpha.’ I told her quickly. In response to my answer Celest began to display her source code and the AI that it belonged to. What I saw pissed me off. ‘If Colonel Wilder doesn’t kill Trent I will.’
‘Is something wrong Robert?’ Celest asked not knowing the problem.
‘You bet your shiny metal ass somethings wrong Celest. Your source code is one of the most closely guarded secretes in the Empire. That is the source code for particularly important Death Dealer AI. Namely the Empress Maiha Nakatoma’s Death Dealer AI Dee De.’ I snarled.
‘OH BOY! NOT GOOD! NOT GOOD AT ALL! The High Command could demand that I be decommissioned! If not outright removed and destroyed!’ Celest started panicking.
‘What would that mean for me?’ I asked fearing what her answer would be.
‘I don’t know. Though if I were to formulate a guess from the amount of integration into your natural body. The most likely outcome will be death if I’m removed. If it is decommissioning, then you will most likely be left paralyzed from the shoulders down.’ Celest most have felt my displeasure over that last piece of information. ‘I’m sorry if this information upsets you Robert.’
‘We’re not there yet, Celest. First, we need to finish cooking. Then we’ll deal with the good Doctor and her act of treason. I doubt that the Colonel will do anything to us. Doctor Trent on the other hand is in for a nasty surprise.’ Once I finished going over the source codes, I knew that I was going to kill Trent if Colonel Wilder didn’t take action on his own. If it hadn’t been for the source code identifier, I would have never realized that my AI was based off one of the most famous Death Dealer AIs in the history of the Death Dealers. Every incoming Death Dealer is told the story of James Owens, the man called Death, and his AI.
I looked down at the countdown clock and realized that the time had dropped again. It had gone from 01:45 to 00:35. I knew that the more I talked to Celest the fast the countdown would runout. ‘Celest I have a question. How the hell could Trent get her hands on an original copy of Dee De’s source code?’
‘I can only posit a theory. All Death Dealer AI source codes are kept in the Royal Archives. One of the primary reasons behind this is for identification of remains. The other reason for this is a backup of the individual host’s mind. A recording of the Death Dealer’s last moments.’ Celest explained for me.
I had no idea that Death Dealers went to such extreme measures. To record a man’s last moments of life was not something I would have thought to be important. Then again this is the Death Dealers we’re talking about. In the last year I’ve learned that in certain situations normal rational doesn’t apply to the Death Dealers. These are men and women who truly believe in something far greater than planetary and system loyalty. To these men and women there is no greater love than that of their brothers and sisters in-arms. Not even their loyalty to the Empire is greater than the loyalty they show the man or woman standing next to them on the battlefield. For them to record a man dying thoughts would not be that far of a stretch.
‘Celest how hard would it be for Doctor Trent to access those source code records?’ I asked her with growing concern.
‘Only those with direct Royal clearance can access those records. Anyone else accessing those records would have done so illegally. Why?’ Celest asked me.
‘Because I have a feeling that Trent accessed those records without High Command giving her the needed authorization. The evidence is there for anyone to see. High Command may have given her authorization to access a blank Omega/ Assault source code.’ I pointed out for her. I wanted to chuckle as she snatched up the thread and finished my theory.
‘But they damned well wouldn’t have given her authorization to access those archived source codes. Not in a million fracking years. That bitch! If you don’t kill her.’ Celest snarled as she flexed my CQC blades.
‘Don’t worry sister. Once they pop the lid on this tank. Trent is a dead woman.’ I snarled as flexed the CQC blades myself. ‘Nobody fracks with our brothers and sisters in the Death Dealers and lives to tell the tale.’
‘Speaking of popping the lid, Robert. Check out the timer. I suggest we activate our bio-armor. Unless you want to greet the world in your birthday suit.’
‘They saw me when I went in the tank Celest.’ I chuckled evilly. ‘Besides, I got nothing to be ashamed of.’
‘After your upgrade you definitely don’t now. By the way do you want to know your stats? They have changed a good bite.’ Celest asked with a chuckle.
‘Sure, why not. It’s not like I’m going to become some man mountain.’ I snarked.
‘Well, your height and weight are still within the normally accepted range for a man from Apollo six. You’re currently one-eighty-two centimeters tall and weigh eighty-two kilograms. Hair is blue-black, with steel gray eyes.’ The more Celest talked the more I realized that I hadn’t changed all that much with exception of my hair and eye color. I had a bad feeling about her description of me.
‘Um… Celest can you produce a picture of what I look like?’ I asked. At first, I didn’t want to believe the picture that Celest showed me. I know deep in my gut that it was the truth. ‘Celest are those changes done at the genetic level?’
‘Yes. Why? Does this hold some great meaning for you?’ Celest asked in confusion.
‘Celest access the Death Dealer database. Specifically, the photo database. Compare the photo for James Owens to the one you just showed me.’ Celest did exactly what I asked her. She then placed the two photos side-by-side. With the exception of minor facial deference’s, I was the spitting image of my great Uncle James.
‘Oh, bloody hell! Trent did more than just steal a copy of Dee De’s source code. That bitch stole the genetic code for Death!’ Celest snarled.
I looked down at the countdown clock and watched as it clicked zero. I didn’t wait for the saline to drain. I shove the lid open with all of my strength. As the lid snapped off its hinges, I spit out the regulator. I lunged out of my tank heading straight for Doctor Trent. “YOU traitorous bitch! You’re dead!”
“Corporal! CONTROL YOURSELF!” Colonel Wilder ordered as I grabbed Trent by the throat and started to squeeze. When I didn’t let go Wilder grabbed a hold of my arms to pray my hands away from the woman. That’s when he got a good look at my face. His confusion was clear as day on his face. “Lord Owens?”
“No sir! I’m still Corporal Wolff. But thanks to this bitch’s treason. I might as well be. She lied Colonel. In more ways than just one.” I said as I dropped Trent to the floor coughing. “Did you know that she used the source code and DNA coding from the AI belonging to James J. Owens Sr?”
“WHAT?!” Wilder screamed. “YOU HAVE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME!”
“No sir. I’m not. I don’t know how she got her hands on that information, but I do have the proof.” I taped the side of my forehead. “It’s all in here. All I need is a terminal with clearance for access to Trent’s research.”
“That man doesn’t have the needed clearances for accessing my research!” Trent screamed as she climbed to her feet. “Neither do you Colonel.”
“Oh, that is where you’re wrong Trent. If what Corporal Wolff is accusing you of all bets are off.” Wilder snarled as he drew his standard issue sidearm. “Wolff you can use the tank operation’s terminal. It has full access to the Death Dealer AI database at Sandhurst. Wolff you better be able to prove your allegations.”
“Sir, I don’t run around making allegations of High Treason or Criminal Malfeasance without cause. The first thing you need to know. Trent lied about removing the COBRA OS from the Mark Two. It is there only instead of it being a hidden and dormant subroutine it is now an active subroutine.” At Wilder’s look of pure horror, I sighed. “Don’t worry sir. I have control over the program. I currently have it deactivated. If we were under direct attack that would be another story.”
“That is a comfort Corporal. A small one, but still a comfort. The legends of a COBRA Secondary Configuration running wild on the battlefield are not myths. They’re a warning from our past.” Wilder sighed heavily. “If what you’re saying is true. Then Trent can be executed for violating an Empyreal Decree.”
“Like I said sir. I don’t make unfounded allegations.” I told him as I had Celest uplink with the workstation terminal. Within seconds Celest was displaying the needed data on the screen. She had placed the two AI source codes side-by-side on the screen. On the right was her source code. On the left was the source code for the most famous AI in Death Dealer history, Dee De. “As you can see sir. Doctor Trent had copied then modified the source code for the AI of James J. Owens.”
“Trent you’re fracking dead. All I want to know is why? You know that using any dead host’s source code is punishable by death. I won’t even go into the fact that you dared to copy a host’s genetic code to enhance the upgrade.” Wilder snarled.
“Someone had to do it!” Trent snarled in defense of her actions. “We need a real Owens to be the Head of Clan Owens.”
“What the frack does that mean?” Wilder demanded. “What exactly does, having a copy of Lord James Owens walking around have to do with who is the Head of Clan Owens?”
“Only a TRUE Owens Heir can be the head of our clan. It is the only way to restore the Owens Clan to its right place of honor among the High Families.” Trent harped. Then she pointed at me. “The only way to insure Corporal Wolff can claim his place as the Head was to remove all traces of contaminated blood.”
“Just what the frack does that mean?” I snarled and flexed my CQC blades. “My parents were heroes. They DIED defending an orphanage in Goulcrest on Apollo six, in the Highlands System. My GRANDFATHER was a Death Dealer. He died defending the people of Apollo during a Cheesehead attack. My grandmother was a hero of the same resistance against the Cheeseheads. I COME FROM A LONG LINE OF HEROES YOU BITCH!”
As I move to cut the bitch’s head Wilder stops me once more. “Hold Corporal. We still need to know who put her up to this travesty of science.”
“Trent you got ten seconds to tell me exactly who put you up to this farce.” I ground out between clenched teeth. “After that if I don’t like what I’m hearing. You’re a dead fracking bitch.”
“I was told that there was no way you could prove your rightful claim as Head of Clan by the Royal Herald. I only changed the source and genetic coding after I found this out. I had to do it. Don’t you see? You’re the true Wallace. We’ve wondered for too long. We need our Head of Clan. We must return home, Lord Owens.” The more I heard of Trent’s reasoning the more I realized what was going on.
I sighed as I realized exactly what Maiha had warned me about during our conversations while traveling to Seth. “Colonel Wilder I think I know what is going on. Sadly, I believe that Doctor Trent has been used. Someone in the High Families has gone out of their way to insure that I don’t return to Apollo six at the Head of an army of Bloodline Warriors.”
“Oh, Sweat Mother of God! Who in their right mind would go to such lengths?” Wilder asked in pure shock. “And how the hell would you be able to command an army of Bloodline Warriors? They’ve been lost to time.”
“The Owens Clan has not been lost to time. We still respect our traditions. Our Clan Warriors will reclaim our home.” Trent started ranting. Not realizing that she had just reviled one of the greatest secretes in the Empire.
I didn’t have to kill her. Her own words would send her to the deepest darkest hole in the Empire. Once there she would suffer the greatest torments of Hell before her captors stuffed her into that hole. Then they would fill that hole in with her at the bottom of it. There would be no mercy for this woman. Wilder turned to look Trent in the eyes. “Trent exactly what did the Herald say?”
“That only a pure-blooded heir could lay claim to the Head of Clan for the Owens.” Trent explained. “That the rest of the High Families would dispute any claim other than one that came from the Empress Maiha’s direct family.”
Something that Trent said tickled the back of my mind. “Doctor Trent what were the exact words. Please don’t paraphrase the Herald.”
“He said something that sounded like. Ní féidir ach an Wallace a bheith mar Cheannasaí an Chlann. He said that it translated to something about the Head of the Clan has to be a pure-blooded Owens.” Trent answered honestly.
“Oh, for the love of the Goddess! You ignorant bitch! You never paid attention your, in Gaelic class, did you? Even with being raised in the Clan you have no fracking idea of the language and traditions of our people. I pray that the rest of the Owens Clan aren’t as ignorant as you.” I screamed. “Even I know more about the Irish and Scottish traditions of our people.”
“What does that mean Corporal?” Wilder asked me.
“The ignorant bitch let some outsider translate the warning. The correct translation for ‘Ní féidir ach an Wallace a bheith mar Cheannasaí an Chlann.’ Is nowhere near what she was told. The correct translation is ‘Only the Wallace can be the true Clan's Headman.” I sighed as I looked down at stunned and demoralized Doctor Trent. I realized exactly what she had done and why. “Doctor Trent is innocent of treason. She is only guilty of being a fool. That and trying to save her Clan.”
“What are you talking about Corporal? First you accuse her of stealing those codes. Then you proved it. How can she not be guilty of High Treason?” Wilder grunted.
“Sir, the answer is simple. The Herald gave Doctor Trent the codes to use. Whoever he really was the man wasn’t a Royal Herald.” I explained. “Someone is using Doctor Trent as their patsy. Someone within the High Families with access to both the Death Dealer AI database and the High Families database.”
“Oh shit. Not good. If what you’re suggesting is only half true. Then we have a major problem. One that could have far reaching consequences.” Wilder grunted. “Doctor Trent do you remember which Herald gave you those codes?”
“Yes, sir. It was Herald Armitage for the Vanderbilt Family. He even handed me the codes personally. Why?” Trent asked hoping that her cooperation would spare her life. She knew that she would face some punishment. She just hoped that it wasn’t the death penalty. She could live with life in prison for betraying the Empire. “What is going to happen to me, Colonel?”
“Pack your bags, Doctor Trent. I suggest you pack for the cold. From what I understand Ice Station Zebra never sees temperatures above freezing.” Wilder chuckled. “I suggest you download and brush up on your Inuit language.”
“Why?” Trent asked in confusion.
“Because that is the local language spoken on New Greenland.” I snapped. “I hope you enjoy freezing your ass off.”
-----tbc-----
Chapter 5
Arco dei Gavi, Capital City, San Vitruvio, Gorgonzola Empire.
The Imperial Palace throne room was as quiet as the grave while Grand War Commander of Preparation Quintino Di Taranto gave his report. “On the tenth day of Fiocco di neve, the sixty-seventh Grand Expeditionary Freedom Forces reach full readiness. War Admiral Abramo Mattaliano reports that his fleet can be in position to attack The Hibernating Expanse and reclaim our rightful territory from the Human Empire in two months. Our alley on the Maroon Earth has assured me that his forces stand ready to destroy Devil’s Bastards station there and throughout the Hibernating Expanse. Our agents on Illusion Sea report that the Human Empire Fleet rotates out every one-hundred-twenty-days. There is a twenty-five-day gap between the old Naval unit and the incoming unit. The next such gap is in sixty-one days. This is when we have planned our next attack.”
“Tell me something Mattaliano. Why should we trust our agents this time? Were not they the ones who told you the last attack would be met with minimal resistance? That our sixty-sixth Expeditionary Forces could just land and hold a parade down the middle of the planetary Capital city? Did not our alley promise us the same support the last time we tried to free our rightful territory? Tell me was it not this mistakes that led to the total DESTRUCTION of more than ten thousand of our brave subjects?” Asked the Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana with a deadly snarl in his voice.
“Please understand Exalted one. Neither our alley nor our Intelligence network expected the arrival of the Bitch’s personal Battlegroup.” Mattaliano said as he dropped to his knees and slammed his forehead into the floor of the throne room. He prayed for one of the few times that the Leader of the Gorgonzola Empire showed mercy on those who angered him. “ALL of our reports had the Bitch on Hades.”
Juliana leaned back in the throne contemplating his newest Grand War Commander of Preparation. The failures of the last Expeditionary Force to reclaim the seven systems of the Hibernating Expanse belonged to this man’s predecessor. In a rare moment of charity Juliana waved off the Royal Executioners. He would give this fool before him one chance to prove himself. “Mattaliano you say that the next Expeditionary Force can be in position to reclaim our rightful territory in two standard months. Give the order to have them move into position.”
“At once sire.” With that order Mattaliano scrambled from the throne room. The next person to stand before Juliano was the Overlord for Corsica region. The man was held in place by heavy chains of budralt steel. This was the man that had failed to gather the needed forces to retake the Hibernating Expanse. The only mission for the Overlord of that region. For the past year and a half this man had languished in a windowless cell in the dungeon of the Palace. His only visitor had been his wife who now resided in one of the Royal brothels. The rest of his family were little better than slaves spread throughout the Empire. His sons worked the Therhil gas mines of Gobbawei. His only daughter who once lorded her superiority over the servants of the Overlord Palace now washed the underthings for the new Overlord family as a personal maid. Today would be this man’s last day in the light.
“Paluzzi, before I have your sentence carried out. Do you have any last words?” Juliano asked as the massive metal sculpture was pushed into the throne. This was an ancient torture going all the way back to ancient Greece. The brazen bull was known to unleashed unimaginable pain upon its victims in ancient Greece.
The tyrant Phalaris allegedly commissioned this torture device to exercise his sadistic streak. Victims were sealed inside the gleaming bull and slowly burned to death. A series of pipes on the inside made it sound as if the victim's wailing and thrashing were the sound of an actual bull, giving this torture implement a decidedly macabre streak. In the millenniums sense those days the Gorgonzola Emperors had perfected the technology. Where a victim would die in hours in those ancient days. It now took days for a victim to die.
Paluzzi took one look at the twelve-foot tall, four-foot thick, eight-foot long, shining metal bull and began to scream for mercy. “NO! MY LORD! NOT THAT! BEHEAD ME INSTEAD! PLEASE! I BEG OF YOU! SHOW MERCY! KILL ME IF YOU MUST! ANYTHING BUT THAT! DRAW AND QUARTER ME IN THE SQUARE! JUST NOT THE BULL!”
“Put him in.” Juliano snarled cruelly. He loved it when the condemned struggled once they found out that their final punishment was the brazen bull.
The torture technicians opened the spin of the metal bull as the guards lifted Paluzzi into the waiting implement of his death. One of the many advancements in technology for the bull was the jell filling. Once a person’s naked flesh touch the jell it sucked them down. It was stronger than concrete but only hardened once it was heated to a certain temperature. In the meantime, the more a person struggled the tighter it held the victim. Juliana watched as Paluzzi was sucked down by the jell filling with a cruel smile. Once he was totally inside the bull’s belly the technicians sealed the back of the bull. It was now time for him to finish the sentencing of the condemned man.
“Place the bull at the entrance to the Red-Light zone. Set the temperature for one hundred to be followed by a one degree increase every hour until maximum. Once it has reach maximum set the timer for a thirty-minute burn followed by a cool down of thirty minutes then back to maximum for another thirty minutes.” The technicians just nodded their heads and went about carrying out their orders.
They knew that the Supreme High Chancellor wanted Paluzzi to suffer and he would. It would take ten days before the temperature reached the maximum of 300°F. until then the jell inside the bull would slowly roast Paluzzi alive. He would spend the next ten days in hell with no relief until the temperature reached maximum and the jell hardened. Then within the thirty-minutes at maximum heat the jell would boil away his flesh and end his fevered existence. The cold down followed by another thirty-minutes at max heat would set the jell into a clear block. Once that was done the final indignity would happen.
Paluzzi’s body would be pried from the bull then placed on display in the Gardens of Pain. He would become just one more statue in eternal pain for the masses to gawk at. One among the thousands that had been tortured to death then persevered for all time. To be put on display as examples of what happens when you fail the Exalted Supreme High Chancellor for Gorgonzola Empire. They did not coddle their criminals within the true Empire the way they did in the rest of the human universe. There was no concept of rehabilitation here. Only punishment. Punishment that was public, painful, and taught the ideal of crime does not pay.
“Warlord Aquilina how long before the new Battle Platforms are ready to lunch?” Juliana asked as he thought about the massive warships that were the backbone of his space fleet. When his father had sat upon this throne there were fifty. Then during the last Succession War of the Human Empire that number fell to a pitiful dozen. It has taken him the last twenty-years to rebuild that power arm of his Fleet. Even now they fall short of their prewar time numbers. More than once he wished for the construction capabilities of the Human Empire.
The total loss of the orbital docking rings and Space Yards of Ryan’s Run had crippled his nation’s ability to build and maintain their Naval Space Fleet in ways that the Human Empire could never have guessed. Even now, almost forty years later, they were still feeling the effects of that one attack. More than the loss of the construction planets of Rocrorix and Hilion. It had taken his father ten years to first find suitable planets to relocate their ship construction yards. Then another four years to do the actual relocation. It has only been in the last five years that those shipyards have been at full construction.
The greatest challenge had been the reconstruction of the orbital rings and space elevators. Unlike his grandfather, his father had spread out the new shipyard construction facilities between four planets. Even then it still took manpower to operate the construction equipment. Most of that manpower came from convicted criminals. Condemned souls who had no reason to push themselves to meet quotas. It was Warlord Aquilina’s duty to motivate these individuals.
“At the present rate of construction Supreme Chancellor, the newest Battle Platform will be ready in time for the push to retake the Hibernating Expanse. This will bring the total number of Battle Platforms to forty-four. If you can give me another five months sire, I will be able to give two more Battle Platforms. With six years I can produce another fourteen Battle Platforms.” Aquilina answered with a bow.
“I see.” Juliana said as he stood up from his throne. He slowly walked over to the map table that currently showed the border area between the Human Empire and his own nation. He ran his hand over the Hibernating Expanse. The area that the Human Empire called the Highlands system. He placed the index finger of his right hand on the planet Apollo 6. “This planet is the key to the whole Expanse.”
“Sire?” Grand Warlord of The Undefeated Divisions, Siriano Leonti asked quietly.
“The Maroon Earth is the key to the whole Expanse. We take it and the rest of the Expanse will fall in a matter of weeks. We must take and hold that one planet.” Juliana explained for his gathered Warlords. Turning to his Grand Warlord of the Navy Amore Sala. “Sala how many Fleet Squadrons can we spare from our other borders?”
“At most we can pull seven full Fleet Squadrons. That is a total of fourteen battlegroups. That is all we can spare without endangering our border security. Anymore will leave us open to attack by Balzac and counterattack by the Human Empire.” Sala explained as he thought about the number of warships that both nations could bring to bear against his nation.
Sala wasn’t like most of the Warlords that gathered within the throne room. His loyalty lay with the people of his nation not to the Chancellor. If given half the chance he would advise against another futile attempt to retake the Hibernation Expanse. The warning of Empress Maiha Nakatoma still range in his ears. Even after thirty-years. He still remembered the devastation that one battlegroup from their Navy heaped upon his nation like it was yesterday. That was when the Human Empire Navy was just a quarter of its current size. The thought of more than four times the number of warships converging on his nation terrified him. Naval Battlegroups that would be supported by Shinigami Battle Platforms.
As much as they have tried to replicate those powerful weapons of war. The Gorgonzola Empire have failed continuously. Just to match the firepower of one Shinigami they would need to build a battle platform that was so massive it would be a small planet. Despite everything their spies have tried. The secrets of constructing the Shinigami has remained out of their reach. Not even the other nations have been able to crack the secret. Not even the formidable Secret Police of the Balzac Imperium Dictatorship have been able to penetrate the vail of secrecy that surrounds those ships. If anyone had cracked that secret Shinigamis would be everywhere.
“How great is the risk of a counterattack from the Human Empire or outright attack by Balzacians?” Juliana demand of the man.
“Both the Human Empire and the Balzacians are like crab-eating eels. They will see the movement of our Fleet Squadrons as blood in the waters. They will swarm over our borders and be within striking distance of our Capital by month’s end.” Sala told Juliana bluntly then drove the point home. “There would be nothing I or our Navy can do to stop them.”
“Warlord Sala are you advising against using additional Naval units to support the Crusade to reclaim our rightful territory?” Juliana asked with ice in his voice.
“I am only pointing out that we would weaken our border defense to the point that our enemies would be able to seize large swaths of our nation should we move the suggested units away from their current duties sire.” Sala knew exactly what Juliana was trying to do with his question. He wasn’t going to fall into the man’s trap.
“I see. Is there anyway to accomplish both?” Juliana asked pleasantly.
“No sire. This is one time where it is an all or nothing situation. We pull those seven Fleet Squadrons from their current duties. Then we must either destroy the Human Empire completely or they will roll over us like the Neanderthal-Gibbons of the Snowstorm Forests in a stampede.” Sala grunted as Juliana turned white at the idea of those massive animals stampeding. It did not happen often but when Neanderthal-Gibbons stampede the damage reaches the billions in gold credits.
“Thank you, Warlord Sala. Your advice is always enlightening. What is the minimum number of Fleet Squadrons that we can use to support the Expeditionary Force? Realistically please?” Juliana asked hoping to get the man on his side.
“As I said sire seven. No more than that though.” Sala answered. “Though I would not use more than three squadrons. That would give our Expeditionary Force a larger Naval support force. While not weakening our defensive force along our borders.”
“Thank you for your time and counsel Warlord Sala.” Juliana sighed. “You may go. Please see to arranging for the three Squadrons to join the Expeditionary Force.”
“At once sire.” Sala answered with a bow. Even as Sala and his aid left the throne the two men knew that the Expeditionary Force was doomed to failure. Once they were alone Sala turned to his aid. “Matteo, which of our Fleet Squadrons are questionable in their loyalty to the Empire?”
“The Tenth, Nineteenth, and the Thirty-first, sir.” Matteo answered knowing exactly what his superior wanted. The three Fleet Squadrons he had named were commanded by the most radical of Extremist Fascist Party members.
“Send the order for them to join with the Expeditionary Force at once. And Matteo.” When Sala had his aid’s full undivided attention he whispered. “Arrange for diner with Warlord Benedetto Dimitri at the Karma Oyster at seven past noon.”
“At once, my Lord.” Matteo answered then asked the one question that could get them both hanged in City Square. “Is it time for Blind Redemption?”
“Not yet Matteo. Though the next few months may push that choice upon us.” Sala answered as he continued to walk towards the exit. Once they were outside of the palace Sala sighed heavily before picking up their conversation from inside. “I fear that this next Crusade to liberate the Hibernating Expanse will bring down the full fury of the Human Empire. The false Emperor may not be his mother Maiha but make no mistake. Emperor James Nakatoma has her fury and blood lust. He will carry out the threat that Empress Maiha made all those years ago.”
“What threat was that sir?” Matteo asked politely.
“It seems that you are in need of a history lesson Matteo. At the end of the last war with the Human Empire Empress Maiha Nakatoma promised the total destruction of our capital. To quote that terrifying woman. ‘I don’t need to send one capital ship anywhere near your nations. Not when a single Corsair Class smuggler can get the job done. And gentlemen there are thousands of those within my Empire and they are all more than capable of delivering a seven-forty Core Cracker.’ I was there when she made that promise Matteo.” Sala told his aid honestly. “Mark my words Matteo that was no idle threat, but a promise written in stone.”
“Surely the Emperor James is not so rash?” Matteo asked of his superior and mentor. “He would not carry out such a brash and unrealistic threat.”
“Emperor James Nakatoma is her son. He is the great grandson of First High Lord of the Death Dealers James Owens. His own people call him Death’s own Emperor. With a bloodline like that what do you think?” Sala snapped then sighed. Unlike so many of his fellow countrymen Sala studied his opposite numbers across the borders.
“Emperor James is more than capable of carrying out his mother’s promise. The only reason he hasn’t is because we have not pushed the issue with the Hibernating Expanse. Raids across the border are one thing. In many ways it is an accepted form of border negotiation. What our current Supreme Chancellor is suggesting is no raid but all-out war. Like his mother Emperor James is a warrior first. He will not standby and let us retake the Expanse. He will send in his Death Dealer Battlegroups. At the bare minimum. At most this planet shall become nothing more than a radioactive dust ring surrounding our sun.” Sala explained for his now frightened aid.
“Sir, is there anything we can do to keep this fate from happening?” Matteo asked.
“Pray, Matteo. Pray that our Chancellor sees reason and does not fall to his obsession with the Maroon Earth.” Sala told him honestly.
“Sir, I know that I am not as knowledgeable as you. Please explain to me what is so important about that one planet?” Matteo asked with real confusion.
“The Maroon Earth or as the Human Empire calls it, Apollo six, is the home world for James J. Owens, the man once called Death. The people of that world are unlike any within our Empire. Hell boy, they are unlike any people in all of Human space.” Sala chuckled as he remembered what one of his fellow Warlords said about the people of Apollo 6. “That planet breeds warriors the likes of which no other planet can. The people of Apollo six are an extremely harsh and ruthless people. They take no prisoners and spare no lives. They truly believe that they are on their own. They are a rude, crude, sociably unacceptable society. Not even our most formidable Grim Reaper Battle Division Commanders can even compare to the ruthlessness of the most common man, woman, or child of the world. In their eyes we are the enemy, one that be fought to the last PPC charge, last artillery shell, last bullet, and the last knife. Any battle fought on that planet is to the last man, woman, and child.”
“By the Gods! Why would people who are our rightful subjects feel this way towards us? Surely they know that we only wish to liberate them from the oppression of the False Empyreal Family and their lackies the High Families.” Matteo asked in shock.
“Matteo the people of the Maroon Earth have seen themselves as citizen of the Human Empire sense the time of the Great Shattering.” Sala explained then leaned close to his young aid. “The truth may not be one that you want to believe. It is still the truth. We the Gorgonzola Empire have no rightful claim to that planet or the rest of the Hibernating Expansion in the eyes of the Human Empire. The only reason we have tried to conquer that thrice be damned area of space is for the vanity of our Royal Chancellors.”
“I don’t understand sir. What is so important about the Expansion for the Chancellors that we have tried to conquer it?” Matteo asked in confusion.
“It goes back to the time of the Great Shattering, Matteo and the birth of history’s greatest terrors.” Sala could tell that his aid had no idea of what or who he was talking about. “The Usurper Humbert Carpenter.”
“What does the Usurper have to do with our Chancellors and the Hibernating Expanse?” Matteo asked with even more confusion in his voice.
“During the Great Shattering, Carpenter declared that all human space would be divided into ten parts. Each with their own ruling Overlord. It was this division that led to the ten Great Houses of the time going to war. Over the next twelve years three of those Great Houses disappeared from history. Two pf those Great Houses were wiped out by the Human Empire’s Royal Family. Allowing them to absorb the planets that Carpenter bequeathed those families. In an attempt to save his family, the oldest son of the third Great House married into the Chancellor’s Family. While the oldest child married into the Human Empire Royal Family. The problem is that the oldest child was a female. The section of the Human space that was bequeathed to that family is the Hibernating Expanse. While the Human Empire foolishly recognizes the rights of females to inherit. The Gorgonzola Empire never has. By our laws of inheritance our Chancellors have always owned those planets.” The more Sala explained about the Chancellors’ blind obsession with the Hibernating Expanse. “The truly sad part is that only one side was willing to compromise. Sadly, we are not the side that was willing to sit down and talk.”
“What I don’t understand sir?” Matteo grunted out as he had been punched.
“The Human Empire has always been the ones willing to negotiate. Until forty years ago the Human Empire would send a full formal Delegation to discuss the systems in question. They were always turned away at the spaceport. Then the former Chancellor intervened in the Last Succession War of the Human Empire.” Sala sighed. “And they turned loose their Naval power on our nation. They did it to punish us for his stupidity. If you haven’t noticed. We are still paying the price for their anger.”
“Sir, is it true that it was only a single carrier task force that destroyed Ryan’s Run and the orbital rings there?” Matteo asked quietly. It was a will know secret that one did not talk about that dark time. At least not in public.
“Yes, it is, Matteo. They attacked our Naval Base at Ryan’s Run with four carrier battlegroups while the battleships of that task destroyed our two battle platforms and their support fleets that were station at Ryan’s Run. Only one other time in human history has a Naval Task Force delivered such an overwhelming blow to a nation’s defensive force.” Sala looked around to make sure that they were alone. “You wonder why I fear that nation. It is simple. Once they unleash their thrice be damned Death Dealer Battlegroups nothing. I mean nothing. Will stop them until they are marching down the Avenue of Flags right up to this Royal Palace Gates.”
“Sir, are they really that deadly? I do not know. I’ve never faced the Death Dealers in combat.” Matteo stated bluntly.
“There is a reason we have always call them the Devil’s Bastards, Matteo.” Sala sighed as he couldn’t figure how to explain the experience of facing the men of the Death Dealer battalions. “They are a force of nature that cannot be stopped.”
“I don’t understand sir. Are they not just well-trained soldiers?” Matteo asked.
“No, Matteo they are not. They are more than just soldiers. How can I put this and not sound as if I am talking about some mystical force.” Sala told his aid as he gathered his thoughts on Death Dealers. Then an idea came to him. “Matteo, how long does it take to train just one of Light Infantrymen?”
“No more than twenty weeks, sir. Another five weeks if they’re Jump Infantry. If it is one of our Stormtroopers a total of six months from start to finish. Why?” Matteo asked as he thought about the men that made up the Armed Ground Forces of the Gorgonzola Empire’s Military.
“It takes a full year to train just one Death Dealer. When they say that they are the best of the best, they mean it. Only one percent of their starting number ever passes their full training. Even a failed Death Dealer candidate has twice the training that one of Stormtroopers. That is before they receive their bio-AIs. Now that there are these new Second Generation Death Dealers their threat has tripled. One Second Gen Death Dealer is equal to ten of our best Stormtroopers. Before you say that our Grim Reapers are a match don’t waste your breath. They’re not. Of all the militaries in human space there is only one force that is equal to the Death Dealers. The USSR’s Forgotten Soldiers. Even then I would still give the Death Dealers the advantage by two to one.” Sala explained for Matteo. “There is really no military force in all of human space that can stand against the Death Dealers for long. They maybe pushed into a corner. They maybe knocked back on their heels. They may be given a bloody nose, fat lip, and a black eye. In the end they will get their shit together and come after blood.”
“What does that mean for our Expeditionary Force sir?” Matteo asked with real worry.
“That means we are sending good men to their deaths, Matteo.” Sala sighed as they entered the Ministry of Military. “God help us, let us hope that the Emperor James doesn’t decide to carry out Empress Maiha’s promise.”
“And if he does sir?” Matteo asked fighting to hide the fear in his voice.
“We do the only thing we can do. We die.” Sala told him bluntly.
Goulcrest The City of Ebony, Apollo 6, Highlands System
House of Parliament, Government Center
Grayson Vanderbilt ground his teeth as the Minister of Defense gave his monthly report. Once again, his motion to have the Imperial Naval Fleets removed from Apollo 6 airspace had been denied. Even though he knew the rotation of the Carrier Groups and had passed that information onto his contacts within the Gorgonzola Empire. Then this ass wipe tells him and the rest of Parliament that he wants to increase the number of PDF standing troops. How the hell was he going to control an additional 60,000 Planetary Defense Force soldiers. As it was, he barely had control over the current force of 180,000 standing troops. If the man got his increase that would cut deeply into the founding of his department.
He needed to think of a way to derail the man’s motion to increase the number of the standing PDF troops and fast. Grayson looked over at his counterpart in the Department of Natural Resources, and Cousin Devin Vanderbilt. Despite his distaste and distrust for his cousin, Grayson knew that he would back his play. If for no other reason that he was a Vanderbilt. At least that was what Grayson hoped. That would be one vote against the Minister of Defense.
Grayson looked past his cousin to the next five members of the Parliament Executive Counsel. Of the five he knew that three would vote his way, one was iffy, and the last would vote against him out of opposition. That might give him enough votes on the Counsel to veto the proposal. Looking back the other Grayson counted number of votes that would good his way. Out of the remaining eight members of the Counsel he was sure of only two. The rest were all up in the air, with the exception of one. That one vote could sway the others. Grayson was brought out of his scheming thoughts by the Minister of Defense’s closing marks.
“And by adjusting the budge to include these new troop levels. We can petition the Empyreal Military High Command to remove the Death Dealer Divisions that we now currently host. These new forces will be allocated to the six new PDF orbital defense platforms that are currently under construction along the geosynchronous orbital ring. As for the progress of those stations two of the six are complete. The last four will be completed by the end of next year.” Minister Macalister finished. This the point that Grayson was waiting for and pounced.
“Esteemed members of Parliament I demand to be heard.” Grayson called out as he stood up. When the Chief Prime Minister reluctantly acknowledged him, Grayson smiled. “For the past five years the Minister of Defense has come before this august body demanding a larger allocation of our planetary budge for his Ministry. Each time he has used the same excuses. Yet he has failed to reach his stated goals. Currently the PDF takes up one third of a budget. Two years ago, Minister Macalister lobbied for the Orbital Defense Stations. At the time he promised us six new such stations within twelve months. Yet here we are two years later and only a third of those stations have been delivered. At the same time, he lobbied for the stations he also included raising the standing number of our PDF troops to the current level of one-hundred-eighty thousand. Now he wants another increase of a standing sixty-thousand troopers. Along with an increase of founding that would raise his departments allocation of the Planetary budge to half. When will he stop? When will his greed and paranoia be satisfied? When all of our citizens are marching to the beat of his war drums and goose stepping down Capital road? When we no longer have a voice in this hollowed Hall of Government? Do we allow this man to become the Dictator of his dreams? I say no. we must put an end to Minister Macalister’s demented dreams of a Grand Imperial Army now. We must restore sanity to our planetary government and return peace to our fragile economy.”
“Once again the Minister of Energy spouts his paranoia.” Macalister started off only to be silenced by the Chief Prime Minister.
“Silence Minister Macalister. Minister Vanderbilt has not yielded the floor. Nor has the Chair recognized you at this time.” The Chief Prime Minister stated calmly. “Minister Vanderbilt please continue with your rebuttal.”
“Thank you esteemed Chief Prime Minister for your consideration, But I have already had my say on this matter. I freely yield the floor to my counterparts in the other Ministries. With one exception, Minister Macalister. I see no reason to give such a greed filled man more time to extort citizens.” Grayson said with bow hidden smile. He knew that his cousin and the other members of the Parliament Executive Counsel would carry out the attack on Macalister without further prompting. His comment about how the PDF already had a third of the planetary budget would drive the others to kill Macalister’s proposal.
Over the next five hours the other thirteen members of the Parliament Executive Counsel tore into Macalister’s proposal. Only the Chief Prime Minister remained silent. Grayson had counted on the rules of Parliamentary Procedure to keep the one real supporter of Macalister silent. It was the main reason he had turned down the nomination six years ago. There was no way he was going to let his opponents silence his vote by making it a tie breaker. Not yet anyway, not until he had total control over the Parliament’s one-hundred Representatives.
He wasn’t worried over the way the Hall of Lords would vote. They have been in his pocket since he first arrived on this hellhole planet thanks to his Uncle. It was always the House of Representatives that was the wildcards. He looked out at the gathered members of the House and had to hide his smile of triumph behind his hand. Already more than sixty of the voting lights showed as nay. It only took fifty-one to kill any proposal or bill. Doing a fast count Grayson reached a total of sixty-eight nays and the number of nays was climbing. All before the Chief Prime Minister called for a vote. Looking over at Macalister, Grayson could tell the man was raging in silent resignation of his defeat.
It didn’t take much after that to sway both the Parliament and Lords to vote for his new economic ‘growth plan’ for the Department of Energy. What the members of Parliament and Lords did not know was that one out of every three credits would be funneled off to support his secret army. An army that was now equal to that of the PDF. With a little more persuasion the PDF would find itself being cut by at least a quarter and the Satellite Defense Stations blasted into deep space. He just needed to figure out how to make the others see the need for a PDF as being obsolete. Yet before he could make his move to carry out those plans Macalister pulled a political end run around him and saved his damned PDF.
“Gentlemen, Lord and Ladies, would you leave our people defenseless? Have us rely on the generosity of the Empire for our protection? Just as we relied on that same so-called protection four-hundred-thirty year ago. Would you have our people suffer under another fifty-three years of tyranny? Yes, there are Death Dealers here now. Yet look what happened just a few short years ago. The Amazon Insurrection pulled two full Death Dealer Battlegroups from their assigned base systems. What assurances do we have that this one Division will remain here? I’ll tell you. NONE!” Macalister yelled as he swept his hand across his body in a slashing motion. “Do any of you know to what planet a Death Dealers loyalty belongs to?”
After waiting for a few seconds Macalister jumped up and slammed his fist down on his desk. “I’ll tell you. NONE! They’re loyal only to the Empire! They could careless if Apollo six fell to the hands of the Cheeseheads. This is not their home after all. Why should they care? They have no homes. Death Dealers are little better than mercenary bands that roam through our star ways.”
The Chief Prime Minister stood up and stopped Macalister in the middle of his impassioned plea to stop any cuts to his budge and forces. “Peace Minister Macalister. Though your request for more funding has been denied we shall not be cutting your current budget. To do so would-be folly on our part at the minimum, criminal at the best, and deadly at the worst.”
Grayson ground his teeth in anger but hide his reaction to the Chief Prime Minister’s and Macalister’s counterattack on his plans. He knew that after such impassioned speeches he would be drug from the building and lynched in the nearest tree if he tried to cut the PDF budget now. Keeping their spending in check was one thing. Cutting their ability to defend the planet was another. Forced to retreat for now. Grayson bowed in defeat at the glare tossed his way by the CPM. Of all the men on Apollo six only the Planetary Governor held more power. With the matters of the nest yearly budget now settled the CPM dismissed the gathered Lords, Ladies and Representatives. Grayson and the rest of the Parliamentary Executive Consul all returned to their own offices to put final polish on the budget before sending it before the Governor to be signed.
Once he had taken care of his duties to the Parliament Grayson called for his aid Daniel Harris. Once the man had close the door to his office Grayson got down to business. “Okay Daniel what can you tell me about the Wolff matter?”
“Sir, we have finally been able to find where the Empress Maiha was able to hide him. Sir, I know that you don’t want to hear this, but Robert Wolff is beyond our grasp. Now and forever.” Daniel sighed and waited for his boss to explode. When Grayson did nothing but wave for him to continue his report, Daniel breathed easily for the first time in hours. “Wolff has been undergoing training as Death Dealer for the last year on planet Seth, in the New Egypt system. He completed his training ten days ago and was fitted with a new type of Death Dealer AI. Our spies have been able to find nothing else beyond that sir.”
“Then we have nothing else to worry about when it comes to that particular individual at least now. Though I do believe you are right about him now being beyond our grasp at least for now. I doubt that the Emperor will allow for his cousin and potential political hostage to be stationed anywhere near the border zones.” Grayson sighed as he leaned back in his desk chair. “Onto other business. Have our friends in the Gorgonzola Empire send word of their next Expedition?”
“Yes sir. They should arrive five days following the redeployment of the current Empyreal Naval Carrier Battlegroup overhead. They suggest that we begin our attack on the Death Dealers’ forty-third Airborne Border Division and it’s supporting APS Regiment. Sir I believe that you should know that the Cheeseheads plan to hit Apollo with at least two full Army Groups. As for the rest of the Highlands system they plan to use one Army Group for each planet within the system. Sir that is another eight Army Groups. Even if our forces on the other planets can eliminate the Death Dealer units on their planets there is no way that Emperor James can look the other way this time. He will have to send a counterattack force of equal or great force.” Daniel knew that he was pushing his luck with Grayson, but he felt it was his duty to point out just how precarious their position was in truth. Then he took a deep breath and gave the worst-case circumstance. “He might even resort to the use of seven-forty Core Crackers sir.”
“That will not happen Daniel. Trust me. Emperor James is many things, but he is no Maiha Nakatoma. He lacks the stomach to destroy a planet just to keep it out of the hands of other Nation. Granted if the Empress Maiha were still on the throne that would be a definite possibility. As for Emperor James sending a counterattack force that is also a non-possibility. He is a gutless politician now days. He will sue the Gorgonzola Empire for a peaceful solution. One where they will regain their rightful territory and we will gain total control of Apollo six.” Grayson chuckled as he thought about the massive amounts of natural resources that would be at his total command. He would finally become King of this planet and the surrounding system. The Highlands system would become a nation onto itself.
“Understood sir. I just wish that we could be there when that fool of an Emperor surrenders Control of the Highlands system. To finally be able to have control of our own fates will be a glorious feat of politics. You will go down in history as the Great Savor of the Highlands system sir.” Daniel exclaimed with real pride. Little did he know that Grayson wasn’t out to free the Highlands but subjugate it.
“If it is within my power Daniel, I’ll grant you your greatest desire. For now, though, send the word to our Commanders in the field. Update them on the new operational timeline. Be sure that they understand they’re to do nothing until the code word for combat operations has been given.” Grayson told Daniel with a smile knowing full well that by the end of this uprising Daniel Harrison would lay in an unmarked grave deep in the far Northern Icefields.
“Sir what code word or phrase should we use?” Daniel asked with real hope in his voice. To him the eve of his nation’s freedom was at hand.
“The Death Dealers have a battle cry do they not? Then let our code phrase be one to match it. Let me think.” Grayson knew that what he was about to say would set the tone for his power grab in the Highlands system. Then it came to him. “Howl with the Wolves! What better way to inspire our soldiers then to invoke the names for the great heroes of our planet.”
“Truly an inspiring battle cry sir. One that will have our men howling with each and every inch of territory that they claim for the Highlands Kingdom.” Daniel said as he turned and left the office of his boss.
Once he was alone Grayson opened the concealed bar in his office. Once he had poured himself three-fingers of whiskey Grayson stepped over to his office window. For the next serval hours, he stood there looking out over the city below towards the far mountain range. During that time Grayson did nothing than drink and think. He kept going over his plans. He knew that once the invasion started, he would have to tied down the Death Dealer Division within the Highlands System. Especially here on Apollo 6 for his plans to come to fruition.
“Six full armored infantry divisions on this planet alone. Half of which are PDF forces loyal to me. More than enough to handle those bastard Death Dealers. I need to insure that the leadership for the Death Dealers is removed from play at the start. They may be the best of the best, but they are still handicapped by the Chain of Command. I need to treat them like a rock-snake. Cut of the head and the body will die. The best way to do that would be by poisoning. The problem is the Death Dealers only eat on post.” The answer came to him as a Lossi-3 cleaning android entered his office. “A bomb. One cleaning bot in the right place. Then boom. No more Death Dealer chain of command.”
Grayson watched as the Lossi-3 moved about the room cleaning. The silver skinned female android was one of the newer models that had become popular in the last few years. There was something about the way it moved that unsettled Grayson. The android moved in an unbelievably human manner. If it had not been for the silver skin and blank face Grayson would have sworn that he was looking at a human in costume. He forced himself to shake off the feeling.
“When this is done, I need to seize control of Wizard Industry Robotics. Their craftsmanship with these Lossi-threes is too close to human for their own good. Androids should not be this lifelike.” Grayson grumbled as he fixed himself another drink. When he turned back around the android was emptying the trashcan. “Then again I wonder if they could be made to look even more human?”
Hearing this the android stood upright and turned to face him. “Those would be the Holiday-seven pleasure models, master. They come in three models. Female, male, and shemale. All are designed for full sexual pleasure for their owners. For further information on the Holiday-seven pleasure androids. Please contact your nearest Wizard Industry Robots outlet and talk with a registered Sales associate. Will there be anything else master?”
“No return to your duties.” Grayson ordered as he looked up at the clock on his wall. “Damn it had not realized that it was so late.”
Grayson downed his drink grabbed his briefcase and headed out the door to his office. As he was leaving the Lossi-3 was removing the vacuum cleaner from supply cart. This peaked his attention. “Droid, how often do you vacuum the offices?”
“Once every three days master. As per the scheduled instructions for this office.” The android answered as it pulled in the vacuum’s power cord. “Will that be all master or do you have further instructions for this Lossi-three unit.”
“No that will be all.” Grayson answered then left the office. As he was walking through the outer office area, he heard the vacuum cleaner starting up.
Once the Lossi-3 was alone in the office for the Department of Energy’s Minister its movements changed. The first thing that it did was to reach up and grab the covering over its face. With a twist it removed the false covering to reveal a very humanoid face. The cyborg woman with her eyesight now unencumbered went set about carrying out her real duties. She opened a panel in her left arm and drew out a patch card that she connected to Grayson's computer. Ten second later she had completed the download of Grayson’s hidden computer files. Next, she opened the office safe. After taking digital photos of everything in the safe she closed and secured it before moving onto her next task. Checking the six hidden micro-cameras and mini microphones that she had placed in this office more than eighteen months ago. After an additional ten minutes the cyborg replaced her face covering.
For the next five hours the cyborg went about her duties as a Lossi-3 cleaning android. Just after midnight she entered the service area for the android cleaning staff. After securing the supply cart she quickly retrieved the actual Lossi-3 she had replaced from the closet where she had stashed it. After slipping into an underground passageway the cyborg retrieved her synthetic skin suite. After securing her human appearance the cyborg dressed quickly and walked towards her exit. During her long trek thought the underground of Goulcrest the cyborg analyzed all the new data that she had gathered from Grayson’s office. None of which filled with her with hope for peaceful future. She emerged from the underground network of tunnels the cyborg woman looked up at the false light of early morning sunrise.
“How many more times must the greed of man and false promises push the Empire into a war? Damned fool. Vanderbilt is thrice the fool that Richelieu ever dreamt of being. Hell, he’s a bigger frack stick than my father ever hoped of being. He would set himself up as a puppet King just to rape the peoples of the Highlands system.” The woman sighed as she looked back towards Government Central Plaza.
With what she had the cyborg quickly headed for the safehouse her team was using. As she traveled through the early morning streets the cyborg contemplated her next move. She currently face several major problems. The first of which was the very nature and size of the data itself. The sheer size would draw unwanted attention if her team sent it to Command by FTL link. Yet it was also extremely time sensitive. That was the other problem she faced, time. Time that she and the Empire did not have. The data would save lives and possibly prevent a galactic war.
That brought up the next problem. How was she going to get the data into the right hands while still keeping it secure. The only way that she could think of was a currier on a fast smuggler. She knew that she still had connections within a certain less than scrupulous portion of the population that could handle that requirement. The problem is which of her team could she trust with the data. The answer was as clear as the synthetic skin nose on her face. All of them. Like her, all of her team were total body cyborgs in the service of the Emperor’s Hand.
Like all members of the Emperor’s Hand, they were all former criminals with a second chance at life. Each one having been freed from the terrifying life as High Priest Control units. Their only tied to their former lives, their brains, safely sealed within their dushiulium steel skulls. The life support systems for those brains housed deep inside the dushiulium steel bodies. Of all the refined metals in all of known human space dushiulium steel was the strongest. It is so strong that it is damned near indestructible.
It was this metal that Shinigami hauls were constructed from. It was for this reason the saying ‘That it takes a Shinigami to kill a Shinigami’ came about. If not for the prohibitive cost of refining the metal, it would have long ago become the construction material of choice for civilian ship builders and manufacturers alike. As it was for this reason that only the most powerful of Military and Government agencies could afford the metal. Then again, no civilian knew where the metal was mined from or where it was refined. These two locations were among some of the greatest held secrets within the Empire known only to a select few.
“How did the retrieval go Blackjack?” Asked the male cyborg asked as she entered the safehouse with blank expression on his face.
“Went off without a hitch Copperhead. Now the hard part begins. Get me Stone Viper over in Blackwater port and Fea’s Viper in Rockaway port.” The woman said as she shed her trench coat. “Where’s Cutback and Sidestep?”
“Downstairs preforming PMC on the weapons, boss. Why?” Copperhead asked with worry. He knew that if Blackjack was wanting both Stone Viper and Fea’s Viper on the horn then a shitstorm was on the horizon.
“Hot shit, intel that needs to be hand delivered ASAP is why Copperhead.” She said as she walked towards the one requirement her body needed to function. The portable Turbidity Cleanser station. If not for the need to cleanse her bio-support systems Blackjack could happily spend the rest of her cybernetically extended life sipping Last Night Defenders on the beaches of Tecumwall Paradise on Azuliv. After hooking up to the Cleanser and engaging the system flush Blackjack sighed. Looking back over at her second in command she turned cold. “The intel I got is to go out under the following Copperhead, no arguments. Urgent. Priority One. Top Secret. Emperor’s Eyes Only. Wave Dancer Red protocols. Burn over intercept. Hand deliver no hand off or second party intervention. Currier expendable.”
“HOLY SHIT! What the frack has that gods be damned asshole cousin of mine gone and done this time?” Copperhead snapped. For the first time in five years referring to his old life as David Vanderbilt.
He was once a low-level member of the Vanderbilt High Family until he was ordered to take the fall so his family could cover up for his cousin’s mistake at Hyperion 7. The fact that he was the black sheep of the family at the time didn’t Copperhead in the political powerplays within the Vanderbilts. When the Head of the Emperor’s Hand offered him the chance to avoid becoming a High Priest Control unit, he jumped at it. He didn’t care that it meant he would become a full-body cyborg. That his only connection to humanity would be nothing more than his brain.
“Do the terms High Treason, Active Rebellion, Sedition, Conspiring with the Enemy, Adding and abetting an Enemy Nation, Espionage, Embezzlement of Government Funds, have any fracking meaning for you?” She asked as the Cleanser pumped the waste chemicals from her life support systems. “Oh, and those are just the fracking tip of the iceberg. I know that my family were a bunch of criminals back on Hades, but we never went out of our way to actively undermine the Empire.”
“Damnation. I knew that I should have just killed that little fracker when we first arrived on planet. It would have saved us all a lot of aggravation.” Copperhead snarled as he punched the wall. “Care to tell me again why you stopped me boss?”
“Because our orders were to observe and report Copperhead. I will not repeat myself on this matter again. Before you say ‘I told you so’ don’t. I agree with you that killing Grayson Vanderbilt would have save us a lot of heartburn, but we lacked evidence of his crimes.” Blackjack told him with real regret in her voice. “Just remember that we do not just execute citizens of the Empire without evidence of their crimes or orders from the Emperor.”
“I know that Blackjack. Frack! All members of the Hand know this and follow it. We don’t like it at times, but we still follow our mandate.” Copperhead told her with grim determination. “That doesn’t mean we have to like it at times.”
“Of all the members for the Hand, I know the feeling better than most Copperhead.” Blackjack said as she unplugged from the Cleanser. “After all I was the first.”
“Is it true that you were once part of the Longfellow yakuza clan ma’am?” For the first time in his new life Copperhead had the chance to confirm the greatest rumor sounding his boss.
“I was more than just a part of the clan Copperhead. More than thirty years ago I was the criminal known as Peter Longfellow.” Blackjack answered coldly.
-----tbc-----
From the snowy mountain slopes I wish you all good luck, peace and harmony over the coming week. Stay safe, stay warm, and above all keep the hot coco flowing. As always comments are welcome. Remember that comments feed the muse.
War Admiral Abramo Mattaliano looked out the forward view port of the assault dropship. Over the last seven hours his fleet had jumped in system at various point around the ring point of the system. Even with bringing his ship in at the equinox point he knew that he greatest worry lay ahead of him. The orbital defense satellites of the Maroon Earth. No not the Maroon Earth yet, but Apollo 6. He knew that he could not trust the traitor in the Apollo 6 government. Not when his orders were to kill the man the second, they had secured the capital city. Now for the first time in over thirty years the Grand Expeditionary Freedom Forces of the Gorgonzola Empire were in position to retake the Hibernating Expanse.
The last four attacks on the Expanse had been nothing more than probing attacks. Seeking out valuable technical data, and military intelligence. They had learned where the Human Empire was weakest along this front. They had gained valuable intelligence on the people that populated this sector. They knew exactly what had to be done to subjugate the people of the Maroon Earth. Here was the lynchpin for the whole Expanse. Crush Maroon Earth, the rest of the Expanse will fall in line.
“Now, we bring these rabid dogs to heel. After more than a thousand years. This Expeditionary Force will be the one to correct the injustice force upon our Chancellors.” Ambro said to no one in particular.
“Trust us sire, we know.” The Captain grunted. “Shall I send the order to attack?”
“Have the last of our forces moved into position yet, Captain?” Ambro asked sharply.
“All ships are in position for the assault, Admiral. Only the orbital satellites stand in our way.” The Captain just pointed to the holo-tank and the positions of the operational PDF satellites. “Only the ones that are currently manned pose a true threat. A small threat, but one that can be easily neutralized.”
“What of our Jump Infantry? Are they prepared for their drops?” Ambro asked.
“All fifty drop zones had been marked by our troop carriers. The destroyers, and frigates, are in position to support their drops with orbital bombardment if necessary. The battleships and carriers will be in position for attacks on key cities within seven hours. The assault dropships will be in place and starting their assault burns one hour after that. The battle platform Blazing Heart will be in position to carry out interdiction duties in six hours.” The Captain told him tiredly. He has gone over the assault plans for the Maroon Earth every day for the last ten days with Ambro. Not for the first time he wished that rank was not connected to a title within their military. Like many of his fellow professional officers he felt that the Nobles of their Empire were little boys playing at war.
It was most commonly felt about the current Grand War Commander Adalardo Faustino and Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana. After spending the last ten days with the man the Captain really looked at War Admiral Abramo Mattaliano. ‘Another foolish nobleman wanting to play the war game. I wonder how many more of these foolish attempts the High Chancellors will make before they give up their worthless claim to this system and stars in it.’
“Have our agents been signaled?” Ambro asked coldly.
“They should start their attacks an hour before the first of our Jump Infantry hit ground.” The Captain told Ambro for the umpteenth time.
“Is there any way to move up their timetable?” Ambro asked with an evil grin.
“I don’t know sir. We might be able to force a time change, but I would advise against it. Too many deaths among our allies could cause us problems with pacification later on.” The Captain quickly said trying to warn Ambro off this plan of action. Unlike his Commander he knew that the key to this system wasn’t crushing the people of this planet but winning them over.
“That will be our alley’s problem. We are here on a Holy Crusade to return our rightful sovereign territory to our Great Empire. These dogs have refused to recognize our rights to rule them. If a few of them die in achieving our goals all the better. They will pay in blood for every glorious solider that has died at their rebellious hands. The streets will run red with their blood.” Ambro snarled as he clenched his fist. “They are not rightful citizens of our Empire, but subjects fit only to be slaves. There will be no mercy. Make no mistake Captain. This is genocide. The total eradication of all life on the Maroon Earth.”
“But those are not the orders of our Supreme High Chancellor, War Admiral. We are to free the people of his system.” The Captain argued.
“Captain you are a fine example of what a commoner can achieve under our system.” Ambro sighed as if trying to explain a great truth to a small child. “Those of us among the Nobility know the only way to truly end this continuous conflict with the Human Empire. The Conquest of the Hibernating Expanse is just the first step in restoring all of Human Space under one nation. Our Nation.”
“You will have to forgive my ignorance, sir. How does conquering the Hibernating Expanse lead to the conquest for the rest of the Human Empire?” the captain feared the answer he was about to receive.
“The Human Empire can ill afford the loss of the Hibernating Expanse. The majority of their greatest warriors come from this area of their false empire. We take the Hibernating Expanse and we cut off their supply of Death Dealer Candidates.” Ambro explained as he raise his fist and smashed it down through the projection of Apollo 6. “And here is the lynchpin. Pull it and all else falls before us.”
Unlike Ambro the Captain knew the truth. He was not delusional to the point that he would believe that this one system held that great of importance. He knew the Death Dealers were drawn from all over their Empire. No one system could produce the sheer number of appellants needed to fill their ranks. Not matter how they went about gathering those forces. Not even with forced enlistments.
A beeping came from the holo-tank drawing both men’s attention. To their amazement half the orbital satellites went offline. The Captain didn’t waste any time. “Send the order to the Jump Infantry transports to drop their troops. Have the destroyers and frigates pull out of line. Send them after the those still operating satellites. All ships-of-the-line are to jump to their final attack positions now. The attack commences now, Comrades. We take the Maroon Earth for our people.”
Across the Apollo 6 system jump points form in brilliant blazes of light. What he ordered was risky but in war one must take risks. Even as the engines of his jump drives came to full power the Captain was reminded of an ancient Naval commander. From a time when man sailed the deep oceans of Earth with nothing more than the power of the winds. He stepped around the holo-tank stomped on the command console of his flight deck calling out. “Comms pass this to all ships, all decks, all vid screens. Full audio and visual if you please.”
“Aye, Captain!” The Communication Officer called back carrying out his orders. He didn’t know what his Captain was up to, but he didn’t care. “Broadcasting now!”
“My countrymen there comes a time in every sailor’s life when they must make a choice. Stay safe on dry land or reach for greatest among the seas. We have reached such a point in our lifetimes.” The Captain reached down to draw the ceremonial sword at his hip. “A great Captain once said ‘Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!’ There before us lays the greatest thorn in our nation’s side. It is time, NO! It is past time for that thorn to be pulled. All ships attack!”
With those last three words given not by the leader of the Gorgonzola Empire or the War Admiral for the Expeditionary Force. A war was set in motion that would forever change the face of human controlled space. A war that was put on hold before the current Human Empire Emperor was even born. War on a scale not seen sense the time of the Great Shattering more than a thousand years in the past. Even as the first orbital bombs fell on Apollo 6 unseen forces were moving.
Goulcrest The City of Ebony, Apollo 6, Highlands System: 0545 local time
House of Parliament, Government Center
Grayson Vanderbilt was woken from his slumber by the pounding on the door to his bedroom. “Whoever or whatever this is about better be fracking important. Because if it is not then I’ll kill whoever in on the other side of that door.”
“Sir, please Lord Vanderbilt, wake up!” Grayson’s butler called out. “Please sir. The Cheeseheads have arrived in system with a massive fleet.”
That got Grayson full attention. He grabbed his robe and threw it on. Opening the door to his bedroom Grayson ordered the man inside. “Get in here and tell my exactly what has happened Markus.”
“Yes sir. At exactly zero-four-fifty this morning our early warning satellites picked up jump points forming all around the ring point. At last count, the enemy fleet numbered close to one-fifty and climbing with one battle platform. There is the equivalent of a full Death Dealer battlegroup overhead. At zero-five-fifteen members of the Apollo Liberation Front attacked the orbital defense satellites from inside. Satellites five, through eight, and eleven through thirteen are all offline. There are reports of assault class dropships moving into position as we speak to deliver what could only be Jump Infantry. Their carriers are moving into position to attack the remaining satellites. Reports of battleships taking up positions for orbital bombardment of our cities are also coming in.” Markus answered honestly.
That was all Grayson needed to hear. “Markus please make a pot of coffee for me. Along with three eggs, a six slices of bacon, hash browns, and two slices of toast. I’ll dress myself this morning and be down in a few moments.”
“At once sir. Should I setup the vidphone for you at the table?” Markus asked.
“Please. I believe we still have time before the Cheeseheads get all of their forces into position to cause problems.” Grayson told the man with a straight face. Once he was alone Grayson opened a hidden panel in his bedroom closet. Behind the false wood panel sat a military grade telecom system. He grabbed the receiver then entered a frequency code. When the other end was answered he only spoke one phrase. “Howl with the Wolves.” He repeated this five more times.
He quickly dressed as if going to the office. Before he closed the panel, he entered one last code into the system then hit send. As he headed downstairs the sun was just raising in the east. He checked his watch as he entered the kitchenet. It was 0624 local time. He would have just enough time to sit down and have his first sip of coffee before his three surprises were delivered. They had cost him a small fortune by in his mind money well spent. Reaching over Grayson grabbed the remote for the viewer and turn it on tuning into the local news cast.
As the bobblehead beach blonde bimbo nattered about the unseasonably cold weather in the northern regions Grayson check his watch for a second time. It was just now 0629. He never took his eyes of the second hand as it slowly swept around the face towards twelve. As the last few seconds ticked off and the hands moved to 0630 three thunderous roars were heard off in the distance. Grayson smiled to himself as he took another sip of his coffee, then started cutting up his eggs. His butler knew not to comment on the blasts as his employer enjoyed his breakfast. He looked down at his watch one last time as the hands ticked 0635. Just as he expected the bimbo was handed a printout as a news flash scrolled across the bottom.
“This just in. Simultaneousness explosions have occurred at the following places. The Ministry of Defense, House of Parliament, and the Planetary Defense Force Headquarters. Reports of open rebellion on six of the orbital defense satellites are also arriving. Along with reports of a massive Gorgonzola battle fleet.” Her announcement was cut off by a blinding light, then turned to a static filled square.
The flash drew Grayson’s attention towards the north where the broadcast towers sat for all the local stations. There before his eyes was the tattletale sign of a nuclear explosion. The massive rolling mushroom cloud broiled in the distance. Grayson couldn’t help himself. “A Special Atomic Demolition Munition warhead, no more than ten-tons nominal yield. Most likely a Bravo-fifty-four, man-pack unit. More than enough to clear out the towers and flood the airwaves with radiation.”
“Excuse me sir, but weren’t those types of weapons band by the Great Nuclear Treaty of twenty-forty-four Anno Domini pre-exodus?” Markus asked of him.
“Yet we still have them and use them at every chance we get for terrorist style attacks like this one. The construction of those weapons ma have been band but not the knowledge of their construction.” Grayson said as he took a few bites of his eggs. After washing them down with coffee, Grayson looked towards a second mushroom cloud of death and destruction that suddenly appeared around where the Government Center should be in the distance. “Markus, I have a feeling that we will have a good number of guests today. Are there any other political households this far out?”
“There is only one exception sir. Your home is the furthest home from the Center. All other Ministers, Lords, and Parliamentary members are either closer to or actually in the city. Only Minister Hall’s residence is further out. If you can call that ramshackle hovel of a residence. It is more like a squatter’s farm.” Markus sniffed with real arrogance.
“I have to agree with you Markus.” Grayson looked one more time towards the two mushroom clouds. “Markus it appears that despite all of our efforts to curtail their revolutionary activities and maintain the peace. The Revolutionary Extremist Union, Free Citizens Union, and those thugs in the World Community Party have finally gone over the edge into full blown insurrection.”
“It would appear that way, sir. Though I do have to wonder at the timing.” Markus commented thinking about the attacks and the incoming invasion force.
“If I had to wager Markus. This is a fully coordinated effort with our enemies the Gorgonzola Empire. Those three factions are well known to our enemies. Just be thankful they have not gotten their hooks into those paramilitary thugs within the Monarchist League Army. Can you image what those thugs would do with military grade weapons at their disposal. Why they would attack the PDF and Death Dealer High Commands at first light.” Which was exactly what Grayson was hoping they were doing at that very moment. After all he was the one who supplied the weapons for them to begin with in the first place.
Hell, Grayson was the one to provide weapons to all four groups. Including the 24 B-54 man-pack tactical nuclear weapons. So far only the two had been used the way that he had ordered. One to kill access to those leftist overly liberal newshounds. The other to force the Parliament, Hall of Lords, and the Planetary Governor to flee the city and the Government Center. There was only one way for that many Government Officials to travel as a group. Grayson looked to his watch one last time. If his calculations were correct, then the Emergency maglev train should be pulling out of the high security station in ten-minutes. If everything went according to plan, then the last obstacle to his grab for power would fall to a terrorist attack destroying eight of the twenty-seven-miles of maglev track. Taking the train and all of its passengers to a fiery death.
The only question yet to be answered yet concerned the Death Dealers. He still need to know how the attack went down on those five installations. The most worrying of them was Camp Wreckage. It was the base where the Death Dealer APS Regiment was stationed. Though Camp Rampage, home for the 12th Airborne Ranger Battalion, and Headquarters of the 43rd Airborne Border Division posed just as much a threat in the long run. Those two bases had to be destroyed above all else during the first hours of the attack. If not, then the Death Dealers could move into the backcountry with extreme ease. From there it would not be long before they mounted their counter attacks. The planet of New Texas had proven this point to him. With just one division of Airborne Troops and a few aerospace fighters the Death Dears had pushed the Amazons back. Then hold them at bay until reinforcements arrived.
His spies had sent the exact locals of every barracks, command building, supply warehouse, fuel farm, ammo depot, truck park, tank motorpol, to the Cheeseheads. Those places were supposed to be hit with orbital bombardment during the first hour of the attack. What he couldn’t figure out was how come the diversionary attacks happened before he gave the signal. These were his people and half of them attacked a head of schedule by more than four hours. Other than the jumped forward time frame everything was still going to plan. A plan he had devised himself.
As he contemplated the problem eating his breakfast Grayson realized he wouldn’t have the answers until after the war. Then out of nowhere the two men were thrown to the floor by a sudden concussive blast of overpressure that destroyed the windows on the eastern side of the house. As Marcus struggled to his feet he hissed out between clenched teeth. “Bloody hell! What the frack was that?”
“Those were most likely the main guns for their fleet’s battle platform the Blazing Heart. An orbital bombardment strike. The last time I checked not something to be directly on the receiving end of.” Grayson said as he stood up completely. Then looked towards the south. “Though I can’t for the life of me think of what’s to the south of us that is a high value target. One that would rate an orbital bombardment.”
“Um… sir isn’t the Cornside Reservoir and hydro-powerplant to the south of us?” Markus asked. The moment Markus mentioned the hydro-powerplant Grayson turned white.
“My god! That powerplant supplies all the power for our ground based heavy laser defense towers.” Grayson said as he realized the full extent of the lost of that powerplant. Then he remembered the other impact that loss would cause. In a voice barely above a whisper. “The ground-to-orbit missile defense systems.”
“What of the ground-based-orbital defense artillery units sir?” Markus asked. Grayson had totally forgotten about the high-powered railguns and Calliope laser systems. If the Cheeseheads had targeted Cornside already for orbital bombardment how many more of his powerplants were they going to destroy. As if to answer his question the lights in his home went flickered then went dark completely. “Sir I thought we were on the Terminus Physics powerplant?”
“We are on the Terminus, Markus.” Grayson snarled. “A civilian power plant. Why are they targeting the civilian powerplants?”
“Are you sure they have targeted the civil powerplants, sir?” Markus asked. “Is there anyway to verify the attacks?”
The answer to the butler’s question came not from Grayson but the thunderous screeching of highspeed kinetic kill rounds slamming into the ground far to the east. This was followed by an upheaval in the vary foundations of the house. At first this didn’t worry Grayson until it happened six more times. Each time the impacts were closer and closer. “By the gods! They’re targeting the maglev rail.”
Then it happened. An atomic blast. Only this one was not one of the man-pack units he had secured for the Monarchist League Army. It was much, much heavier. It had to be a SADM B-108 Mark II. The much bigger brother as far as atomic yield went to the B-54. The main deference between the two weapons was they’re actual physical size. The B-54 weighted just under 60lbs. while the B-108 Mark II’s weight was closer 75lbs. The changed in weight was a resalt to the changes in atomic material and explosive detonators. The B-108 used Thuylium to create the thermonuclear reaction and Hand-axe plastic explosives to detonate. Both were half the wight of their counterparts in the B-54 yet produced twice the power. The heat from the blast finally reached the two men. They quickly did the calculations in their heads for the flash to burn. Both came up with the same conclusion.
“THAT WAS TOO DAMNED CLOSE!” They both shouted at the same time. With real urgency the two men scrambled to reach the manor’s underground bunker. Grayson’s wife came stumbling down the first-floor hallway still in her normal morning drugged haze.
“What the frack is going on, Grayson?” She called out just before a heavy chandler crashed down on her from over twenty feet. The woman was killed instantly.
“At least there is one good thing to come out of this mess this morning.” Grayson grunted as he worked the codes on the bunker door. “From how long it took her to react to this morning’s happenings Markus. My wife spent her night in a drugged fuel daze.”
“If I my speak freely, sir.” Markus asked as he glared at the cooling body of his boss’s former wife. Grayson just nodded. “The bitch snorted enough Snowflake dust to put down a full-grown Tundra-Scorpion. I’m surprised that she even woke after the Bravo-one-oh-eight off.”
“It might have been kinder if she hadn’t Markus. Before we head down. Is there anyone you want to bring down with us?” Grayson asked of the older man. Unlike his butler, Grayson knew that the attack was no longer following the scripted battleplan.
“No sir. My wife died years ago. My son and his family are in Blackwater port. My daughter is in school over in Dornwich. It’s just me.” Markus told him honestly.
“Well, old man. It’ll soon be you, me, and however many members of the Governing body can reach my manor.” Grayson told him just as honestly. “The problem is going to be how many can get out of the city.”
“Shouldn’t that be all of them sir?” Markus asked.
“Sadly, no. Of the one-hundred-and-thirty-two members of our Government only fifteen of them commute to work. The rest of them have apartments within the Government Central compound. The fifteen of us that commute to work from the outskirts of Goulcrest all have last stand bunkers. Of them all only mine can hold the entire Parliament, House of Lords, Hall of Judges, Lieutenant Governor, and Governor. The problem lies in transporting those one-thirty-two out here.” Grayson said as he worked the door to the stairs.
As the two men headed down the stairs Markus left the door open for the rest of the staff to find. He didn’t know what his boss had planned but he wasn’t going to let the rest of the staff just die for a lost cause. As they descended to the lowest reaches of the manor Markus found something he never knew was there, a highspeed maglev station. “Bloody hell! Where did this come from?”
“It was built during my great uncle’s time as a member of the Lords. Long before either you or I were born. Time to check on the maglev’s progress.” Grayson said as he stepped over to a control console. After entering an override code. The control console slowly came to life as emergency generators came online to feed it and the stations power. “Damn. I had hoped to never use this place.”
“Excuse me, sir. I would have thought that the use of this place would have insured your rise to the Governor’s Mansion.” Markus said without thought.
“I would love for that to be the case Markus. The problem with that belief is our planet and the Highwinds System would have to come under direct attack.” Grayson told his butler as his dream plans went to the wayside. All of them gone in a matter of seconds as the Gorgonzola Assault Fleet attacked Apollo 6. The orbital bombardments made sure of that as they destroyed damns, powerplants, and other vital planetary infrastructures. All off his plans had gone wrong.
Once the emergency generators and the console was online his satellite uplink engaged. “Damn it’s worse than I figured. Only our three nuclear powerplants are still online in the Southern hemisphere. Both of the Northern continents are in the dark. Only our defensive installations on the Southern continent are still able to fight. That won't be for long though. Not with the way the Cheeseheads are pounding shit from orbit. Shit. Our orbital satellite defense platforms have either surrendered or been blasted out of orbit. We also won’t be receiving any guests form the city. That orbital bombardment just before we came down here. It destroyed the whole maglev rail-line between here and the Government Center.”
“What of the Comms Stations sir?” Markus asked with some worry.
“Gone. Here look at the screen. That is thermonuclear fissure. Over here just to the West of us is where that second nuke went off. The one that damned near brought the house down around our ears. See the size deference? The one to the West had to be a Bravo-one-oh-eight SADM backpack unit.” Grayson sighed.
“Sir I know that you have always dreamt of raising to the rank of Governor.” Markus said with real concern and disgust. “Was any part of this attack in your designs?”
“No. When it comes to the Cheeseheads I have as much hate for them as the common man in the street. Yes, I have plans to reach the top. Would I betray the people of Apollo six to do that? No.” Grayson lied to his butler as easy as he did on the Parliament floor debating a worthless bill. In all his time here on Apollo 6, Grayson had been able to keep his ties to the REU, FCU, WCP, and MLA, a secret from his household staff. He was even able to keep his secrets from his dead wife. “Our major problem though is not those ships overhead. It’s the assault class dropships headed our way, Markus. If the forty-third Airborne Border Division don’t get their shit together soon. Then our only hope will be the meanest bunch of rowdy citizens in all of the Empire. We can only pray that somewhere amongst our citizens stands another great hero of the Empire. One that will rival James J. Owens.”
Assault Dropship Huntress Star, Apollo 6, Highlands system
Landing Zone Alpha 2, 25miles south of Camp Wreckage
Division Commander, Green Star General, Zorn Diageo watched from the side of the boarding ramp as his division was the first to offload. The Huntress Star had deployed their Jump Infantry while still in high orbit over their drop zone. His counterpart Green Star General Yohan Mears stood waiting patiently beside him. The two men knew that the Light Wheel division had to be deployed before the Heavy Armor Division. The only other officer watching the rapidly deploying troops was Flag Colonel Colombo Vanni of the 18th APS Cavalry Regiment, The Defiant Corsairs.
“Tell me Yohan, do you think we’ll finally take this gods forsaken planet and the system it controls?” Zorn asked as a VTR-19 rolled by.
“You want the truth, Zorn? I’ll give you truth. If we do not kill every last one of the Devil’s Bastards in the next four hours. Then no matter what Vanni, and his fellow APS pilots will be nothing more than footnotes.” Yohan told his fellow General honestly as he lite up a cigar. “Because if there is one thing, I know to be true. Death Dealer APS pilots are unlike anything else we shall face. I am not too worried about reports of their being some new aerospace fighter built only for Claymore Death Dealers. One or two new fighter aircraft will not change the course of this war. We know the truth. Artillery hammer the enemy, APS unit break through, tanks and IFVs in sure further gains, Infantry secure territory. Air and Naval powers have their place, but they cannot take or hold territorial gains.”
“You know that Yohan. I know that. Even our War Admiral knows that. What I want to know is why haven’t the Death Dealer APS units attacked us already? I didn’t see any signs of bombing as we came in.” Zorn confessed.
“I believe that it had something to do with our ‘allies’ within the local militia. Our scientists gave them a new form of gas to try out. That camp is a perfect test subject in that valley. What with its high ridgelines, wide floor, and steady winds from only one direction. Our ‘allies’ could release canisters of gas one at a time. Until they reach the needed amount for saturation.” Yohan explained.
“How lethal is the new gas?” Zorn asked with worry for his own soldiers. He knew that the Gorgonzola Empire had a policy of using such tactics to put down uprisings within their borders. If they were using them to secure areas within the Hibernating Expanse and word got out. It could have a backlash effect on his nation.
“At full saturation one-hundred-percent lethality. The problem is it cannot be delivered by artillery or airdropped bombs. The only way to gain full saturation is through steady release over a period of time by use of fog or smoke generators. If we use artillery or airdrop bombs the explosions spread the gas over too far of an area before saturation can be reached.” Yohan said with a deeply disturbing chuckle. “But even at low saturation levels it is enough to incapacitate the enemy.”
“How long before it is safe to cross into the effected areas?” Zorn asked with real worry for his soldiers now.
“That is the other good news. Without a contentious supply of fresh gas, the lethality levels fall off at a remarkable rate. Within two hours after the last of the gas release has stopped you could walk naked through the affected areas.” Yohan said with a grin. “Though I won’t try it without further testing.”
“I think we’ll let our ‘allies’ handle that problem for us. In fact, I know just the ‘ally’ to handle the task.” Zorn snarled. Of all the weapons on the modern battlefield there were only three that truly terrified soldiers.
Nuclear bombs and missiles. Weaponized diseases or biological weapons. Yet both of these weapons of mass terror and destruct failed to bring the level of fear for the last weapons. Chemical weapons. Unlike nuclear weapons where you needed heavy duty industry to produce the needed materials chemical weapons can be made from simple household cleaning products. It took a professional lab plus degrees in bioengineering to make biological weapons. A high school chemistry lab ten-minutes of mixing the right chemicals into a solution and presto you have a teargas strong enough to incapacitate a regiment. Zorn knew exactly how long it took to manufacture each of the three major types of chemical agents.
Harassing agents 10 minutes, incapacitating agents 25 minutes, and any of the big three lethal like nerve, blister, and choking agents no more than 45 minutes. Pump them into a few 55gl drums, slap a C4 charge on the side. Then boom! One cheap ass WMD. There was a reason chemical warfare weapons were called the poor nation’s nuclear deterrent in the mid-to-late 20th century. Chemicals were easy to come by. The method to turn them into weapons just as easy. The methods to deliver them as numerous as they were make. Number of casualties to each weapon disproportional.
“When we get moving and we don’t see any sgins of the Death Dealer APS unit, sir. I’ll hunt him down myself and hand the slug over.” Colombo said as he walked over to the two generals. “Amateurs have no business in a war between professionals.”
“I am surprised to hear you say something like that Colonel Vanni. I would have thought that you would welcome any type of weapon that allows your men to take their objective easier?” Zorn asked in surprise. Then Zorn remember who the men who piloted Armored Power Suits were trained, especially the officers. They were his nation’s Cavaliers of the modern age. When their APS Pilots graduated from training, they called it ‘earning their spurs’. For both Zorn and Yohan this attitude of gifting special status to unbloodied troops detrimental to their overall society.
“There is taking advantage of a tactical or strategic weakness for a surprise attack General. Then there is attacking soldiers who cannot defend themselves in their sleep with a chemical weapon. That is no better than using the tactics of terrorists or a coward.” Colombo snarled. “At least the Death Dealers stop short of using chemical or biological weapons. They will fight using everything at their command to include nuclear weapons when forced. But never those. They deserve our respect and full measure of professionalism.”
The sounds of massive footfalls drew the young Colonel’s attention. He turned to see the first of his Scout class APS units moving to exit the dropship. “Excuse sirs, but I need to pass on instructions to those pilots.”
As the young Cavalry Flag Colonel walked away both Generals sighed. Yohan turned to Zorn. “I fear that we will have problems controlling that one and his men.”
“Flag Colonel Vanni is a pragmatist, Yohan. It does not matter what tactics we use. Our only mission is to regain control of the Maroon Earth for our Empire. Colombo Vanni realizes this and knows the ugly truth behind our use of the revolutionists. We may not like using the local revolutionists to achieve our goals, but they are a necessary evil. When his men find those dead Death Dealer APS pilots. They will rampage across this planet filled with righteous indignation. We can blame all the atrocities on those revolutionary forces while claiming to be hunting them for committing those very war crimes. Without them we would have needed twice to three times the normal force to attack this planet.” Zorn then chuckled evilly. “Our Knights of the Empire will find that war is a filthy bloody business. A business whose spread sheet is printed in blood that only has three columns for final accounting. Wins, losses, and casualties.”
“Let us hope not, Zorn. Because the day that our Knights realize this will be a dark day for our people. The citizens of our Empire relay on the belief that our APS pilots are the newest bastion of Chivalry. Our citizens want them to be these undefeatable gods of battle. Not mere mortal men with emotions that can be fooled into committing acts of unthinkable horror.” Yohan warned his friend.
“Then let us hope that they can control themselves as the butcher’s bill is tallied by the revolutionist elements of this planet.” Zorn grunted as they watched the first of the Scout class APSs left the dropship. Then in a voice heard only by himself. “Because if they can’t then this will become one bloody mess after another.”
Black Skull Buccaneer, Corsair Class Smuggler, Apollo 6 jump point.
Blackjack stood looking at the view screen. Originally the cyborg had planned to send one of her subordinates with the information. All that changed when the first reports came in about the attacking Cheesehead fleet. Her XO, Copperhead overruled her. Instead of sending Fea’s Viper it was decided to send her instead. The rest of her sixteen-man team would fan out over the planet. Each with the same mission. Harass, and confuse, the attacking enemy at every chance they had, short make life for the Cheeseheads as difficult as possible. By attacking supply points, interrupting transit schedules, denying valuable intel, assassinating high priority targets like generals, freeing captured POWs. This was the secondary mission for all members of the Hand in the times of war.
A last-ditch act of defiance. Giving the enemy one final salute. Like all government agencies their'a also had a seal of insignia. Theirs was of a mouse holding a combat knife behind its back facing off against a great bird of prey on the attack. Members of the Emperor’s Hand may die in the course of their missions, but they will always take a good number of their enemies to hell with them.
Only Blackjack could detect the grinding of gears in her hands as she clenched her fists. She forced herself to relax her hands as the Captain of the Black Skull Buccaneer gave the final command to jump to hyperspace. “Helm bring us about. Engineering run up the engines. Nav set our course for the Shinigami Ryuk and the Royal Couple. COMS! HOST! THE! BLACK! FLAG!”
When the Captain yelled flag the Corsair class smuggler jumped into hyperspace. In its wake leaving behind a video signal of a black flag waving in the breeze. In the center of the flag a white circle with a black skull. The signal would have a far-reaching impact on the world of Apollo 6. In every port of call smugglers of every stripe would set aside their deference’s. Each crew would happily fly the Jolly-roger flags of pirates, buccaneers, privateers and corsairs alike until their world was once more free of the Cheeseheads.
Here under her feet was a true hidden weapon of the Human Empire’s Navy. The Corsair class pirate and smuggler dropships. Even the Imperial Navy used them in almost every function. They were light cargo carriers for smuggling, close combat air support for air assault units, spy vessels, and with very little modification, small fast attack craft in Naval combat that punched away above their weight class. During the war with the Amazon Collective 4 out of every 15 enemy Frigates, Cruisers, and Destroyers, both heavy and light, were killed by these deceptively nasty little ships. Even Admiral Danial Cosby of the Super Carrier Lady Dai Etsu was noted for saying during the opening days of the Amazon Revolt. “They may be the lightest and smallest ships in my fleet, but those Corsairs always fight way above their weight class. And they usually win.”
The Captain turned to his very unusual passenger. “Well ma’am, we made it out. We’ll be alongside the Ryuk in one-hundred-forty-one hours and thirty-nine minutes. I wish we could give you a faster transit ma’am.”
“Captain Turner of all my uncle’s captains. You were one of his most favored. When I came hunting for a smuggler, I was surprised to find you and your ship out here in the Highlands System.” Blackjack said with real feeling in her voice. “Though I am more than a little surprised to see that you haven’t upgraded to a Clipper.”
“Well, there is an old saying about fixing something. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. This old gal may not be the prettiest gal there, but she can still turn the heads when it comes to getting the job done.” Captain Will Tuner snarked. He then turned serious. “Miss, I have to know why you would work for Nakatoma? What with what she did to your uncle and cousin?”
“My uncle and cousin broke their word with the Dowager Empress concerning the local High Families’ children on Hades. They paid the price for their foolish arrogance. As for me working for the Empire my reasons are my own. I am a one hundred percent hardbody cyborg, Captain. I may only have a brain left from my old human body, but I still have my soul. With that small amount I can and will regain the honor they threw away so carelessly in their greed.” Blackjack snarled. “The person I was is no more. All I have is my honor, my human soul, and a blood debt that must be paid.”
“When will that be Miss?” Captain Turner asked as the cyborg turned to leave his bridge. “When will your debt be paid?”
“When I can shut down for the night and not see the faces of those wronged by my family. Only then will I believe that the debt has been paid.” Blackjack said as she looked towards the star scape shown in the bridges viewer. “I think that will be in about one or two thousand years.”
With that Blackjack left the bridge. Captain William Turner faced his bridge crew. His Navigator was the first to say anything. “She may have the body of a female, but she still has the same mind.”
“Aye, captain. The little Miss could fool the rest of the crew but not us.” His Engineering officer told him bluntly.
“WE clocked her the moment she stood behind your console captain.” The Helmsman said not taking his eyes off his screens. “We’re pirates and smugglers. We know our own as surely as we know a tasty target.”
“We going to pass the word to the rest of the fleet Captain?” Communications and sensors officer asked as he spun his chair around to face Turner.
“Not right now, mates. The young lady has come a long way in the last thirty years, but she still has a ways to go.” Turner told his shipmates. With the downfall of the Longfellow crime family syndicate, he and the other smuggler captains had run their ships like the Pirates of the ancient Caribbean. “But I’ll cast a white ball for her. How cast your votes?”
Each ship was ran as an egalitarian society. This had a side effect of making for a more democratic way of run the ships. In the end through it was the Captain’s name on the registry and letters of mark. Both of which only the oldest child of each ship’s captain could inherit. With one very important exception their Admiral’s child, Peter Longfellow. “Besides, I don’t mind collecting the Crown’s coin for now. We let the others know Peter Longfellow is alive that will go away.”
“True that! They’ll be in open revolt the second they hear Peppermint Pete is out and free. I’m with the Captain on this guys.” The ship’s doctor said from her position over behind his console. “We drop the gal off with the Ryuk. Then we head back here and host our black flag.”
“It’s time for some Piracy!” The crew yelled out with real pride.
-----tbc-----
Chapter 7
Camp Red Cloud, Seth, New Egypt
I look into the mirror at the once skinny assed kid turned Death Dealer. Thanks to all the improvements in interviewing candidates the time to turn out Death Dealers is down from 14 months to just 2 months. I look down at my right hand at my class ring. I cannot believe that I took Class Commander and Super numerator. This was indicated by the bloodred ruby on top and blue gemstone chip on the side. The two rarely go to the same person. I let my eyes go to the Special Operations Star and Sniper Crosshairs that inhabit my left breast pocket. Those two wards together one the same person are even rarer among the one percenters of the Empire’s Military that are the Death Dealers.
Yesterday during final inspection for Graduation my Instructor stopped and looked hard at the twin circles of gold and black. “You’re a fracking one. Just like your great uncle James. No wonder you took both top spots. Good luck.”
I didn’t understand what the man meant but I found out from Celest in fracking hurry. ‘He’s talking about odds, Rob.’
‘Okay what does that mean?’ I asked her. It had taken a few weeks to get use to a voice that only I heard.
‘I’ll tell you tomorrow after graduation. When you can take his ass behind the motorpool to discuss the matter with your fists legally.’ Was all she said.
That is one thing I can say I really respect about the Death Dealers. If you have a problem with a superior or fellow solider you can take them out behind the motorpool and handle it like soldiers. The only rules were no broken bones and no disabling injuries that result in discharge. Oh spending a few days in the hospital is also off the table. Short of those three things it goes. The Death Dealers really believe in the Circle of Equals. The only exception is for Instructors. They are allowed to do or say whatever it takes to turn out the best of the best, short of killing you out right if you’re a trainee. Now that I’m no longer under his command. If I don’t like what he said. I can beat the shit out of him, and no one will care. I should say try to beat the shit out of him. I am a realist after all and know my chances of winning a fight with a 20yr vet.
“Yo! Wolff time to head over to the stage. Can’t let our ‘one’ miss his big day.” Catline Whitehorn said with a smile as she pulled on her garrison cap. She saw the look of shock on my face and patted me on the shoulder. “Relax bro, you’ll at least make it down on your first drop before buying the farm.”
“Okay that is the second time someone has called me a one. Just what the frack are you talking about? Truth Tigger.” I ordered the fisty little redheaded Elf. I learned on the first day not to call her Kitten, Kitty, or even Cat. It was Tigger, Catline, or Whitehorn. The woman was a nasty little bitch with CQC blades.
“Look Rob, the higherups have this matrix that calculates everyone’s odds of surviving a drop. They use for everyone, Jump Infantry, APS Pilots, tankers, artillery crews, ADA crews, I mean everyone. First, they take into account the number of ops you have under your belt. Then they add in your actual job in the mission. After that they figure in the type of op. They take all that plus a few other factors and assign you a number. The higher your number the better your chances of surveying a op. Up to a point. So long as your number stays around seven, eight, or nine, they expect you to live for a long time. That is why they rotate units out of the hot zones. To keep their numbers down by forcing them to relax. But there is an exception to that rule. Snipers are always rated three points lower than everyone else for survival.” She explained for me. I figured that having a really low number was a good thing for me.
“All Death Dealers start off with a five. Because we’re just out of training and still fresh enough to not pull something stupid on our own.” Cat point to the Crosshairs and Star on my pocket. “You went from a five to a one thanks to those two badges buddy. Two points for being Special Operations. Two more points for being a sniper. That gives you the lowest chances for survival according to the math that the higherups use.”
“In short, they’re expecting me to die before I ever reach the LZ for my first drop. That about cover things Tigger?” I asked sharply.
‘Ding. Give the man a cigar!’ Celest quipped in my head. ‘Want to prove ‘em wrong?’
‘In more ways than one Celest.’ I said Celest while waiting for Tigger to answer my question to her. The blush that came to her lovely face said more than words ever could. “Relax Tigger. With all the assholes, cock-bits, and frack nuts looking to end my life. Then I add in the fact that I have ties to the current and former Royal couples. I never expected to live beyond nineteen anyway. Someone is bound to get a lucky shoot off at my ass sooner or later.
“Damn that is a fracked-up way to look at the world, Rob. At least you’ll have a month off to enjoy your new rank before we hit our first units.” Cat said with a grin. “And to recover from the hangover. Remember you’re paying for the first round of drinks at the NCO Club.”
“By the way you want to explain to this poor backwoods country boy exactly why I’m buying drinks at the NCO Club tonight?” I snarled as we headed down to form up to march over for graduation. “Don’t me give some bullshit about placing at the top.”
“Because of those two damned badges, your placement at the top of the class, and Class Commander. Didn’t you pay any attention during orientation Rob?” Cat sighed.
“Well, yeah I did but that was over two months ago. I’ve spent the two months just trying to keep my head down, do my best, and survive. Why?” I asked her then told her honestly. “With the shit that happened at my upgrade I didn’t need any extra attention drawn to my ass.”
“If this was you trying to keep a low profile, Gunner. Then you need to do a better fracking job.” Jack ‘Iceman’ Beel said as he fell in behind the two.
“Knock it off Iceman. It’s not Gunner’s fault the rest of us couldn’t keep up with his scores or match his performance.” Lissa ‘Free runner’ Smith said just before she smacked Iceman in the back of the head.
“Alright you clowns knock it off.” I ordered the core group of friends I had gathered over the last few weeks. Then I smiled over at Tigger. “Now would one of you apes explain to me what is so damned important about me snagging the two top spots and why I’m buying drinks at the NCO Club after graduation?”
“By the Gods! He really did forget!” Iceman said as he pulled out his wallet and handed Tigger a ten spot. “Here. I should have asked for an over/under on the time.”
I watched as my other friends walked over and started handing Tigger a paper note. When the last of my platoon hand her a five credit note I was royally pissed off. “Okay here people. Just what the frack was that all about? Tigger did you have a pool going about something and me?”
“Sure did. It all concerns today’s graduation and you forgetting about the award for anyone snagging both top spots.” She said as she counted up her winnings. Once she had she cut it in half and handed it to me. “Here you go. Thanks for making me five-hundred gold credits, Mister Wolff.”
“That’s Corporal Wolff, Privet Whitehorn. Don’t go making me out to be some damned officer.” I snarled as Celest posted something on my HUD. ‘Celest what is with these orders you just put up?’
‘Your promotion and commissioning orders, Robert. As of 1400hrs local time today. You are officially a Warrant Office One in the Death Dealers.’ I thought I was going to fall on my ass when Celest told me that I would be a Warrant.
“I see by the look on your face, that your AI just filled you in Rob. Congratulations buddy. Way to go.” Tigger said with a real smile while she waved the stack of bills, she had won. “Don’t worry I’ll help with the bar tab if it gets out of hand.”
Damn I had forgotten about that possible promotion. It was what everyone had been busting their asses to win. It just my stupid blind luck that allowed me to earn both Class Commander and Super numerator. Then again if the final test hadn’t been held in a city slum things might not have turned out the way they had. For most of my class mates the idea that an urban environment could be used at flipping the battlefield. I know that I totally screwed the curve by using a trash truck to deliver a ‘bunker buster.’ I guess spending most of my teenage years running the streets of the meanest city on Apollo 6 prepared me for the life of a Death Dealer. In more ways than just one.
I earned the nickname Gunner because of how fast I was on the trigger. By that I mean more than just with firearms. I could examine a tactical situation and find the week points faster than Celest. I just knew where, when, and how to attack a problem with the lowest number of casualties. Thanks to everyone in my class pushing themselves to achieve the top two spots. All because of my crazy ass scores. Our Black Hats had to come up with one massive bitch fest for final evaluation.
We called it the ‘Moscow Bunker’. While everyone else was thinking about using a small unit to take it level by level. I just packed a trash truck with 1200lbs of simulated high explosives and drove straight through the front gate. I bailed out just before it hit the front door with 3 seconds on the fuse. The warehouse they were using to simulate the bunker wasn’t happy with having to replace their door, but I didn’t give a shit. It got the job done and didn’t break any rules. With what they were getting paid they could afford a new door.
“ATTENTION!” All other thoughts were put out of my mind as Master Instructor, Command Sergeant Major Allen Smoke called us all to attention. Then with his usual clear commanding voice called out. “Right! Face! Forward! March!”
We hadn’t taken more than two steps before he started calling cadence for us. It was one of the oldest cadences known to the military. His voice sang out with.
Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,
He checked all his equipment and made sure his pack was tight;
He had to sit and listen to those awful engines roar,
"You ain't gonna jump no more!"
Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,
Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,
He ain't gonna jump no more!”
As we marched over to the parade field, we let our voices carry the ancient cadence across the still morning air. The stump of our feet as they hit the ground in time with CSM Smoke’s singing. The retheme settled our nervousness as a whole. The exception was my own. I knew that I would be receiving a special commission at the end of the ceremony. Combat Arms Warrant Officers were a rare breed these days. Most Warrant Officers were NCOs who were commissioned as officers in Electronic Warfare, Intelligence, Maintenance, Communications, Medical, Helo-aviation, fields that had actual needs for really specialized training.
As I stood there on the parade ground in formation with the rest of my class, I went over the CAWO ranks. ‘Celest I need you to fill me on something. What exactly is the place of CAWO in the chain of command?’
‘Here let me show in a graph. It will be easier.’ Celest said as she put the graph up on my HUD. ‘As you can see most Warrant Officers fall into the middle ground between Commissioned Officers and NCOs. Normally this is because of their fields. The one exception are CAWOs. Combat Arms Warrant Officers are true professionals in one field only, Guerilla Warfare. They have to be Jacks-of-all-trades and masters of none. Something that as a Death Dealer you excelled at over the rest of your class. Between your naturally twisted way of resolving problems and my less than normal programming. We make a truly unstoppable guerilla warfare expert.’
‘You’re tell me that just because I don’t have problems with fighting dirty the brass decided to award me?’ I asked her in shocked. When Celest didn’t answer me right away I wanted to scream. That's just fracked up!
‘Don’t kill the messenger kiddo. It wasn’t my fault you came up with ways to fight a war that is nastier than an Onyx Frost Crocodile on Hypha nine.’ Celest chuckle was just short of a full-blown laugh in my head. ‘All while staying well within the Conventions of War set forth by the Treaty of Broken Armies.’
‘Hay, the way I see it if they don’t want the loopholes exploited then plug the loopholes. You don’t want me to break the rules or work around them. Don’t print them out in the first place.’ I chuckled. ‘Like Father Jim always told me. “Rules boy, rules and regulations. They let you know exactly what you can get away with legally or just how far you can push things.”
‘That is exactly what I am talking about. You use the rules and regulations to work around or bypass the ones that get in your way or don’t like.’ Celest said as she chuckled in my head. ‘It is that type of thinking that has the brass scratching their collective heads in wonder. It’s also just the type of thing your great uncle was known for pulling off when under pressure.’
‘Let me guess. They want to know if lightning really can strike twice.’ I snarked. We each marched up to the platform in alphabetical order. Leaving my happy ass stuck at the end. Anyone who had a name that began with XYZ name had washed out long ago. Not to mention anyone who had a name that started with anything other than Wo. In short, I was tail end Charley. Last man out the door. I must have really been ignoring the ceremony as I neared the stage to pick up my skin. Because standing off to one side was the Reverend Mother Katsumi, and Lord Robert the Bruce Owens, Head of House Owens. The only man in all of the Human Empire to command the Bloodline Warriors. A military force surpassed only by the Death Dealers.
If he is here, then shit was trying to go sideways on me. I needed to get a handle on it before it goes too far. ‘Celest give me the Murphy factor.’
‘We got a Murphy factor of 5 on the ‘Oh shit scale’ with just the Reverend Mother. Add in the old man it jumps to a 9.9 ‘frack me sideways’ boss.’ Celest grunted at the back of my mind. ‘Rob that man has political designs for us.’
‘I figured that already, Celest. I also know why he is looking into us.’ I waited for Celest to access the records concerning the retaking of the Owens Clan’s home world. ‘Lord Robert Owens needs me to be, the last True Wallace, to lead his army of conquest to retake all of the Isla of Sky system.’
‘Okay hold on here Rob. There is not Isla of Sky system in the Imperial records. What kind of tall tale you spinning here?’
‘No tall tale Celest just honest truth. The system you need to scan for is System four one nine seven. Make sure you use the Velmaro naming style.’ I ordered her before stepping onto the stage. ‘There isn’t a free citizen of Sky that hasn’t dreamt of the day that the Blood Red Knights and Owens Head of Clan returns. That fool over there made the mistake promising them that day was within reach.’
‘I don’t understand Rob. How could such a brilliant leader like Robert the Bruce Owens make such a massive political blunder?’
‘Fracked if I know Celest. All I know is that thirty-five years ago the citizens of Sky started to interlock their colony ships. My mother and father were talking about joining the Isla of Sky colony before the last raid by the Cheeseheads. They had even booked passage on a dropship bound for the colony before their deaths.’ I told her as I walked towards Colonel T.C. Wilder, Commanding Officer for the training battalion that I was currently assigned. As I near him, I stop a respectful three feet away, salute and at the top of my lungs called out. “Corporal Robert Wolff, Sir. Death is Dealt by our hands!”
“Death is Dealt by our Hands.” Wilder answered as he saluted be me back. “At ease, Corporal Wolff. Welcome to the Death Dealers.” He handed me my skin and shock my hand. Then he called out. “Attention to orders!”
Everyone wearing a uniform snapped to full attention at those three words and waited for Colonel Wilder to read from a sheet of paper. “By orders of the Empyreal Military High Command for achieving the near impossible task of both Class Commander and Super numerator Corporal Robert Wolff is hereby awarded the rank of Combat Arms Warrant Office, First Class. Through his dogged attention to detail, relentless pursuit of excellence, with unwavering faith Corporal Wolff let his achievements elevate his fellow Death Dealers to reach for greater goals themselves. Yet it was those achievements that set him apart. I shall now administer the Oath.”
Talk about being a windbag. I so wanted to just shut up and take my oath of commissioning. Wilder finally looked me in the eye and raised his right hand. I quickly followed suite. “Repeat after me, Corporal, ‘I, state your name, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the Human Empire against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. I will obey the orders of the Emperor and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. I shall place the needs of my soldiers before the needs of myself. So, help me God.”
I didn’t even let my smartass bone show its snark-side as I repeated Colonel Wilder. With one miner correction. I gave my full name when I should. “I, Robert Edward Wolff, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the Human Empire against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. I will obey the orders of the Emperor and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. I shall place the needs of my soldiers before the needs of myself. So, help me God.”
“Congratulations, Mister Wolff.” Colonel Wilder says with a smile as his shakes my hand and hands me, my new rank. I never would have thought that two 1x½ pieces of silver-plated tin could feel so damned heavy. Then as if to end my hopes of escaping Reverend Mother Katsumi walked up to me. Without preamble she reached up and replaced my shoulder boards with those showing my new rank.
She leaned in close as she was replacing the left shoulder board. “Your cousin is extremely proud of Robert. She and her wife are standing over by the eastern exit. Behind the empty news stand. You’ve done the whole family proud Robert.”
“Don’t know about that Reverend Mother. I just did what I had to do to survive. If that meant coloring outside the lines five pages over from the one everybody else is on. That’s what I did. You don’t survive the streets of Goulcrest playing by the rules. Just ask my cousin when you get the chance.” I whispered back. “She would know better than anyone else. They still tell stories about James Jessie Owens the original outlaw of the Ebony city.”
“It seems that history has once again placed an incredibly unique individual in my path. I shall be watching young Robert. I believe that you shall achieve great things in the years to come.” Katsumi was grinning as she set my right shoulder board. Once both shoulder boards were set, she stepped back about 3ft and saluted. “Congratulations, Mister Wolff.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” I said as I returned her salute. For the life of me I didn’t know why she was the one to pin my rank. Yet there was something about this holy woman that screamed Military in the back of my mind. I set Celest on the problem. If anyone could find the answer, it would be my AI.
“Mister Wolff, under normal circumstances a graduate of your standing would have his choice of assignments. As would the other top six graduates for your class. Today that is not the situation. As of 0845 local time the planet Apollo six was attacked by a force of at least eighteen divisions. The rest of the Highlands system has also come under attack within the last few hours. Total number of divisions and total fleet assets is unknown at this time. This is a full push by the Gorgonzola Empire to take the Highlands board system.” The more Colonel Wilder talked about what was going on my home planet the madder I became.
“WHAT THE FRACK?!” I snapped without thinking. “How the hell did this happen? Where was the damned fleet?”
“MISTER Wolff, I suggest you get a handle on your attitude.” Wilder ordered then without skipping a beat. “The answer to where the screening fleet was all I can say is there is no easy answer. The situation is complicated. The Cheeseheads attacked during the standard rotation. According to the one Intelligence asset that was able to escape. Even if the standard relief fleet had been in place the attacking Cheesehead force would have swept it aside like so much dust.”
“When are the Battle Groups going in?” I demanded.
“They’re not. At least not yet. Due to the disposition of our forces, it is going to take a few months to organize a force large enough to retake the Highlands. Until then we need to make their stay as unfriendly as possible.” Colonel Wilder explained for me with a nasty smile. “We know that the citizens of Apollo citizens are known for their less than hospitable attitude to unwelcome guests normally. This time though we need more organized effort.”
It didn’t take a building to fall on my ass to understand what he was telling me. I started calling out the call signs of the other top graduates. “Iceman, Tigger, Free-runner, Jukebox, Snow, Rimfire, front and center.”
The six of them fell out of ranks and formed up next to me on the stage Wilder chuckled. The fact that I was the only officer in their ranks meant that it was my command. Of the seven of us there was 2 Petty Officers 2nd class, 3 Sergeants, 1 Corporal and 1 newly commissioned baby CAWO-1. Until my commissioning the top 7 graduating positions were held by 7 NCOs. We were also all part of the same training fireteam. Our Blackhat call us his Fallen Angels.
“Fallen Angels ready to rollout sir.” I said as I saluted Wilder. “You want the meanest you got the meanest. Just one question, sir. How big of a cluster frack do you want on Apollo six? Because you give me one more fire team and we’ll give the Cheeseheads more than just a black and bloody nose.”
“Gather those you need from your class. Those are the only forces available for this mission. No more than a platoon sized fireteam. I will only allow volunteers.” Wilder answered me bluntly. That was all I needed to hear.
“Fall in, Black Saints!” I called out at the top of my lungs. I kept the smile to myself as the seven members of the Black Saints fell in behind us. They were the only fireteam that had more than one officer. Only they weren’t your normal officers. Both 1stLt Dan Strowman and 2ndLt Micha James were ‘Mustangs’. They had both been Enlisted members of their home planet’s PDFs who had earned battlefield promotions during raids. They were the only officers treated with real respect from the Black Hats. The ones that came out of the academies and other officer courses were treated little better than us Enlisted.
“Black Saints and Fallen Angles.” Reverend Mother Katsumi chuckled. “An unholy partnership. One befitting the impossible task set before them.”
“They’ll be the exact troopers to bring pain, misery, and heartache to the Cheesehead occupation troops in the Highlands system.” The voice may have been female, but it has a distinctive digital tone. I looked over to the far side of the stage. There stood something I hadn’t seen sense I had left Apollo 6. A full-body cyborg. It stood there scanning me and the other newly graduated Death Dealers.
“Ah Blackjack. How was your trip over from HQ?” Katsumi asked politely.
“It was rather pleasant, Reverend Mother. Though I do wish that I had the chance to pick which Death Dealers were making the return with me.” Blackjack grunted then gave me an odd look. “Reverend Mother a moment of you time?”
I watched as the two women step off to one side with Wilder hot on their heels. I cranked up the reception on my audio sensors. “Reverend Mother how is it that Death can be here on the stage and in the audience at the same time? Don’t try to tell that I am imagining it either. I know that IFF anywhere.”
‘Celest what the frack is that cyborg talking about? What IFF?’ I demanded of her.
‘Robert do you remember what I said about our source code being Alpha-one-nine-nine-eight-Bravo-Delta-Delta-two-Alpha?’ It took me a second to remember then she explained why that was important. ‘Our IFF for the Death Dealer Mil-Net is Alpha-one-nine-nine-eight. The same IFF as your cousin, Empress Maiha and the man called Death, Commander James J. Owens Sr.’
‘Oh shit! That cyborg is a member of the Emperor’s Hand.’ That thought hit me like an Assault class dropship on a hot burn for a hotter LZ.
“Blackjack that Intel is classified. Above everyone’s clearance. Is this going to be a problem for you and your teams back on Apollo?” Wilder snapped just loud enough for me to hear clearly.
“Me and my teams only answer to Emperor and one other person, Death.” The cyborg answered flatly. Then point over at me. “I just need to understand how there could be two people with the same IFF. Especially that one.”
I had enough and marched straight up to the three of them. “If you want to know the answer to that question Blackjack. It’s really simple. The dumb cunt that was in charge of my immersion hacked the Royal Archives. Then stole the source code for James J. Owens Sr. and used it as the basis for my AI.”
“Where is this individual?” Blackjack snarled as pair of CQC blades extended from her forearms. “They shall answer to the Hand.”
“Already taken care of, Blackjack. She is part of a High Priest system for an asteroid mining shovel.” Colonel Wilder told the cyborg to calm it down.
“Very well. So long as that matter been taken care of, sir. Why is the Bruce here?” Blackjack asked them both.
‘This is going to get sticky Robert. Get this tin can back on topic.’
‘Working on it Girlfriend. Trust me, I don’t want this crazy bitch anywhere near my connection to that asshole.’ I coughed to clear my throat. “Ma’am are you the asset that brought in the Intel on the Cheesehead attack?”
“I am, Mister Wolff. I’ll be giving you a full briefing once we are on the return leg of my journey.” I could already tell Blackjack didn’t like having me divert her question. Not that I gave a shit.
“Thank you, ma’am. What dropship should the teams report to?” I asked politely.
“Report to the Mary Edwards Walker in five hours.” Blackjack ordered then turned to walk away only to stop and give me a hard look. “Mister Wolff I do hope you can live up to the legacy you have been given.”
“The only legacy I have to live up to is my own, lady. You don’t like it then tuff shit and have a nice day.” I tossed her the one finger salute and turned to Wilder and Katsumi. “Sir, ma’am, if you’ll excuse me. I got two teams I need to prep for a orbital drop over an extremely unfriendly planet.”
“Excuse young man but you’ll be returning with me. It is time for you to take your rightful place as the Wallace.” Lord Owens said as he walked up to our gathering. “It’s your people and their rightful home you need to concern yourself with. Not the vagrancies of the Highlands system.”
Yup there it was. I just knew the man couldn’t stay out the mix. He just had to try an exert some kind of political clout. Time to end this before shit got out of hand. “Lord Owens, as much as it pains me to see the Owens Clan still without their home world. That is not my concern. Understanding something. Unlike my parents I feel nothing for the Clan. Never have and frankly I most likely never will. I will not be some guiding savor for the Owens Clan. Besides you’re the Bruce. They will follow you. You just have to lead them.”
“Wait one minute, Mister Wolff. Just hear me out.” Owens could already tell by the look in my eyes I won’t be his political tool. I gave him a second look and nodded my head. “Word has already spread among the Clan that there is a true Heir to James J. Owens. They won’t follow the Bruce if there is a true Heir for the Wallace to act as the rightful Head of the Clan. You are that Heir.”
“That may be true sir.” I told him honestly then grinned. “But only from a certain point of view. No matter what the DNA scans show.”
“What does that mean boy? We know that you’re an Owens and a direct descendant to James J. Owens family line. Your duty is to the people of our clan.” Lord Owens snarled as he started to get in my face. “We don’t have time to play games with the Cheeseheads. We must strike at the heart of the Wingnuts and free our home world.”
“That sir, is where you’re wrong. I owe nothing to the Owens clan. They’ve had the chance to put down roots on new home worlds. They haven’t needed to wonder aimlessly. Your foolish boost to reclaim our home world is what put the clan in the position that it is in now.” I spat back in his face. “Let me be perfectly clear on this matter. I have no use for politics. My cousins may be political creatures, but I am not. I never will be. Sort out your problems on your own.”
“Where is your loyalty to the Clan boy?” Lord Owens almost screamed.
“The same place it has always been. Right behind my loyalty to the Empire. Which is right behind my loyalty to the orphanage that finished raising me. In others words I have no loyalty to the Clan. It was your promise that had my parents giving everything up to fulfill your pipedream of freeing Isle of Sky. If it hadn’t been for the Cheeseheads raiding Apollo six more then ten years. We would have been tucked in nice and tight with the rest of the colony.” About that time Celest gave me a piece of information that I could use to get Lord Robert Owens off my ass. “You’ve known for more than twelve years about my family heritage. Yet after the raid that killed my parents. You left me to rote in an orphanage. I was a threat to your plans then. What has changed?”
“What are you talking about, Mister Wolf?” Reverend Mother Katsumi asked sharply.
“The Owens Clan request DNA coding to join the colony. Lord Owens here has known about my family heritage for more than twelve years now. If he really cared about me or my family. He could have sent a dropship for us at any time. Yet he waits until now to show up. No offence Reverend mother but I smell a Titanium-Furred rat.” I told her as I looked Lord Robert in the eyes. “I just don’t understand the timing of Lord Robert’s attempt to pull me away from the Death Dealers.”
‘Because the Clan Counsel meets in thirty days to vote on new a new Home world for the Clan. Without you there to back his promise to reclaim the Isle of Sky. The Clan Counsel is most likely going to finally accept Empress Maiha’s offer.’ Celest told me quickly. I wanted to laugh. It seems that my AI was digging further and further into the minutes of the Clan Owens Counsel.
‘Celest what planet was offered by the Empress for their new home?’ I asked quickly. I needed this one piece of information to end this problem with the Owens Clan.
‘The Empress Maiha offered the Owens Clan three planetary systems, Nightingale Isle, Aeria Isle, and Halo Isle. Robert that is the entire Free Isle region.’ Celest told me with honest Amazement.
“Tell me something Lord Robert. Why haven’t you accepted the Free Isle planets for the Clan’s new home? What’s so damned important about a lost planet?” I demanded.
“They are not our home world. The Isle of Sky is the home of the Owens.” Lord Robert almost snarled. “It should never have been taken from us. It should never have been allowed to fall into the hand of the Wingnuts.”
“That is where you are wrong, Lord Robert.” I sighed. “The true home of the Owens Clan is not some planet, but our traditions. Those are what make us the Owens Clan, not some worthless rock orbiting around a sun.”
I could tell that Lord Robert Owens wasn’t going to back down as he started to square his shoulders for one more try. I cut him off. “No Lord Robert. There is nothing you can say to change my mind. Take some advice. Go back to the Clan. Vote to accept the Empress Maiha’s offer. Resettle our Clan. Then if you still believe that you have the right to reclaim a planet that has belonged to the Velmaro Consortium for more than a hundred years. Build and train an army large enough to take it without involving the Empire.”
With that I turned and walked back to my team. “Devil’s Angles, Black Saints, report to the Quarter Master. Full tactical draw. We’re heading for Apollo six ladies and gentlemen. It seems that our Emperor has asked us to raise a little hell for our friends the Cheeseheads. I say we give them a kick in the nuts for pissing off the good citizens of Apollo six. What say you?”
“Gunner you have a very funny way of telling us that we’ve got a one-way ticket to hell.” Tigger snarked. Then looked over at the Black Saints. “I don’t know about the Saints, but we’ll take this E-ticket ride just for fun.”
“You’ll not be leaving us out o’ the fun Gunner. The Black Saints may have come in second to you sorry lot during training, but this will be the real world. I got fifty gold credits that says we get our Indigenous troops organized and operating three weeks before you.” 1stLt Dan Strowman countered as he looked at the rest of his team with nodding heads.
“I’ll see your fifty and raise you twenty, sir. Thou I should give you a handicap.” I told him with a nasty grin.
“Okay, Gunner. Just what does that mean?” Iceman asked me with his own nasty grin.
“I got one advantage that our good lieutenants here don’t have.” I told my team’s Explosives expert with a lopsided grin. “They’re not from Apollo six. I am.”
“Ah shit. I take the bet back.” LT Strowman grunted. “No way am I competing with a CAWO who has actual firsthand Intel.”
I chuckled as the rest of our teams laughed at the man, we called Ace. 1stLt Dan Strowman only had one real vice. He like, no let me take that back, he loved to play poker. In most officers this would be frowned on. The problem was Ace never lost. You could give the man a pair of two’s and he would still take the pot. The man’s luck at the poker games was legendary.
“Relax, Ace. I’ll still give you a handicap. For now we need to head over to the Quarter Master. We got a dropship to catch.” With that we all left the stage. If I had stuck around I might have heard a conversation that would have a far greater impact on the war than any other that day.
The two cloaked figures had taken their time working their way to the stage. The smaller of the two threw back the cowl covering her head. “Tell me cousin. Are you finally ready to resettle our clan?”
“You were right Empress Maiha.” Lord Robert said with a chuckle. “He will make a grand Wallace when the time comes.”
“You still haven’t answered my question.” Maiha sighed. “The planets are still there waiting for you. The clan needs a new home, sir.”
“Oh, we’ll be resettling, Empress. Have no fear on that front. At least our families will be. As for the Bloodline warriors.” Robert said as he looked to where the two Death Dealer Special Operations teams once stood. “I believe that those two teams can use a little help. What do you figure? Two or three companies?”
“I thought that I ordered that program shutdown?” Maiha snarled.
“Oh, you did order it shutdown. You just forgot one minor detail. Family Tradition supersedes Empyreal law. The Owens Clan and our warriors have been Bloodline warriors going back to the very founding of our clan. Like the Wallace pointed out to me so eloquently. It our traditions that make us the Owens Clan.” Robert answered with a heavy chuckle. “Traditions that are as ingrained in us as the very air that we breath. One of those is the Bloodline Warriors.”
“Bloody Hell. Just how many Bloodline Warriors are under your command Lord Robert?” Colonel Wilder asked in shock at the idea of those feared warriors still existing.
“Only six Regiments, Colonel. Nothing like our glory days when there was fifty full divisions. Not enough to retake our home world.” Robert answered honestly. “But more than enough to raise unholy terror.”
“Thank you, Lord Robert. When can you have those two companies ready to deploy?” Maiha asked with a sly smile.
“I can have the entire first Regiment ready to deploy within six hours. Just tell me which planets you want my people to hit.” Lord Robert answered with a bow.
“Spread them out among the entire Highlands system. You only need to buy time for the Death Dealer Battle Groups to assemble and deploy. You’re to conduct a harassing missions only. No direct confrontation unless absolutely necessary.” Maiha ordered.
“Once again Death’s own Daughter has spread out her hand, calling forth nightmares of war from ages long ago.” Reverend Mother Katsumi intoned solemnly. “For some reason though I doubt that Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana grasps the sheer size of shit storm he has started.”
“Trust me Reverend Mother he doesn’t.” Came the newest voice of authority for the Empire. All those gathered turned to find James J. Nakatoma standing next to Terresa just a few feet away. “Mom you should have ended this problem thirty years ago.”
“I had slightly more pressing matters to deal with at the time, James. Namely rebuilding our Empire after the revolt.” Maiha snapped then sighed. “Though you do have a point. I did warn the Cheeseheads and Wingnuts not to frack with us.”
“This time the warning will be carried out.” James snarled then turned to Terresa. “Which carrier taskforce do you recommend Terresa?”
“None. A Corsair class dropship can get the job done. I would give the honor to one of the pirates that are currently raising hell with the Cheeseheads. If there is one thing that I learned as a child growing up on a fronter planet. Never screw with the smugglers. Their ships have a nasty habit of turning pirate in times of war and always pack a nasty punch. I can name six off the top of my head that are armed with twelve-inch Naval Railguns, PPCs, and PPLs. Not to mention the missile and torpedo batteries they all carry.” Terresa smirked at the look of shock that crossed the faces of Maiha, Alice, Katsumi, and James. Only Colonel Wilder wasn’t surprised by the young Empress’s statement. “Like I said, nasty little bastards.”
“That explains why our Fleet captains always handle pirates with great care. Never going after them with less than a Frigate or Destroyer class dropship.” Wilder said with an evil chuckle. “Then again, only an ignorant fool takes on a Corsair without showing extreme caution. Those little ladies always punch way above their class.”
“How long to do you think those teams will be able to hold out against the Cheeseheads, mom?” James asked of Maiha. “Honestly.”
“With the Bloodline warriors to back them up. Three to four months. Why?” Maiha surmised as she thought about those troops about to hit Apollo 6.
“Good. Because this time I’m going to end the threat of the Gorgonzola Empire for good.” This time there was no snarl or growl in James voice. Only the note of finality in his voice. “I do believe it is time to unleash the Phantom Divisions.”
“James those units are last resort use only.” Alice hissed.
“That may be true, mother. Yet, those two-hundred divisions are more than enough to liberate the systems under that families tyrannical rule at last.” James told his mother honestly. “The Human Empire has never waged a war of conquest. Only ever fighting to defend our freedom. Now, we have been forced to either liberate the citizens of the Gorgonzola Empire or destroy them completely. There can be no half measures this time. We need to end the threat that is the Exalted Supreme High Chancellor and his fascist ruling party.”
“James is only speaking the truth mother Alice. Over the last few years, the members of the Independent Motherland Fascist Party have been screaming for the Chancellor to retake the Highlands system. Not to mention the seven boarder systems they lost following the Second War of Succession.” Terresa told her bluntly. “The Velmaro Consortium has been smart enough to keep their asses on the other side of the line. Not even the acceptable raid in the last thirty years.”
“Aye I can attest to that, Empress Maiha. The Wingnuts have been extremely quiet the last few decades.” Lord Robert grunted. “I believe that is has something to do with them still rebuilding their Military Complex. It seems that the Queen of Highwinds has a nasty habit of pounding their weapons factories flat within months of them rebuilding every time.”
“Well, considering what the Wingnuts did to her Kingdom during the last War of Succession. I’m not surprised. That woman always did have a mean streak in her for revenge. She’ll pound them into the ground every chance she gets.” Alice chuckled as she thought about the Queen of Highwinds. “Just be thankful that woman doesn’t see us as and enemy. Her mind is more twisted then Maiha’s.”
“Ain’t that the truth. Dania’s mind works on levels that even I have problems following.” Maiha chuckled. “And it’s gotten worse in the last few years.”
“Damn. Someone who can actually give my mother fits.” James chuckled. “One of these days I really need to visit her Court.”
“No James. Do yourself a favor. Let her come to you. Trust me on this son. If you visit her first. The Elves will see it as a favor. You never want to owe the Elves. For anything. Simply asking for their name can end up with a marriage proposal for your first-born child.” Maiha warned her son.
“Gotcha mom. Better they owe us. Then us owing them.” James answered with real respect. He had always wondered why Maiha watched not only her words, but the way she worded her sentences with the Elvin Ambassadors. Now, he knew why she acted the way that she had with those men and women.
“See that you do James. By the way. How did you get here without the rest of the Empire knowing?” Maiha wondered.
“The same way you did mother. Ryuk and the rest of the First Battle Group are out beyond the Kuiper Belt. From there we just used a transferred over to the Akagi and let her bring us in close enough to launch Terresa’s Claymore and the Wraiths. I got to ride down in the backseat. Seems she still doesn’t trust someone else behind the controls of a shuttle or fighter.” James answered with a knowing and fun filled smirk as the young Empress blushed.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Terresa. Your one mother-in-law still prefers to land by parachute. She always makes some comment about take offs are optional landing are mandatory.” Katsumi told Terresa with a reassuring smile. “Do us a favor. Continue to be true to yourself. No matter what your stubborn husband tells you.”
“Well, this will most likely be my last flight for the next year.” Terresa told both her mothers-in-law, and the Reverend Mother with pride as she placed her hand on her lower stomach. Looking up at James. “I’m pregnant, James.”
“OH, BLOODY HELL! No wonder you didn’t pull any of your normal high-G stunts on the way down.” James beamed with pride as he lifted her off her feet.
Maiha and Alice both smiled at the happy couple. Katsumi just smiled then held up her right hand. She made a small motion while intoning. “May the Goddess shine down on and bless this child. Blessed be.”
“I would save that blessing for those fourteen Death Dealers, Reverend Mother. They’re the ones who are going to need it.” Alice pointed out.
“The only blessing those fourteen individuals will ever be granted comes from the Gods of War.” Katsumi told Alice bluntly. “And only Death will answer their prayers.”
“Amen to that Sister.” Robert grunted as he looked in the direction they had disappeared. “But for some reason I have the very uneasy feeling that we’re witnessing the birth of a new Death Dealer legend. One that will match those belonging to First High Lord James Owens, Empress Maiha Nakatoma, and our current Empress, Terresa Cole-Nakatoma.”
“Not so Lord Robert. The legends that will be born from those fourteen Death Dealers will become ones that surpass all those that have come before them. They will go down in history equal to those of the Ghost Riders, Razorbacks, Wraiths, and Storm Dancers. I see a time when the Fallen Angles and Black Saints are the standard by which all other Death Dealer Spec Ops teams are judged.” Katsumi told the man with a sly smile. “They’re an unholy alliance the likes of which has never been seen.”
-----tbc-----
Chapter 8
Pirate Jump point, Apollo 6, Highlands system
Bridge of the Mary Edwards Walker, Corsair Class dropship.
Captain Sparrow looked over his bridge crew. He knew that what they were about to do was close to insanity. A high-speed, low orbit pass over the northern Continent of Apollo 6. Looking over at his cargo master. “Marks are our guests ready?”
“Well, they’re wearing their drop armor. So, I can guess that they are, Captain.” The man answered with a sly smile.
“Captain are we really going to do this? I mean there’s two carrier battlegroups between us and that planet. This isn’t our normal smuggling run either.” The helmsman asked from his position at the wheel.
“Spenser the only way I’m turning down the pay for this contract is when hell freezes over and the Devil himself is serving ice-cream. Now move us into position for the run.” He looked back over at the cargo master. “Pass the word Marks. We drop in t-minus fifteen.”
“Aye, Captain.” Both men called out. Hearing this the rest of the bridge crew set about their own tasks for this unusual smuggling run.
“Comms at my command raise the flag. Guns ready a widespread barrage of beam splitters, missiles, and torpedoes. Hold back on the main guns in case we get boxed in. Medical get the sickbay ready for casualties.” Sparrow ordered as he turned to look at the ship’s Doctor. “And pray we don’t need your skills, Lissa.”
“From you lips to God’s ears Captain.” The ship’s Doctor Lissa Stein whispered to the back of her ship’s captain as the man continued to give out the orders that would decide their fate. “I’ll be ready Captain.”
“Helm bring us about. Engineering full military power to all reactors. Remove the limiters Chief. Navigation plot us a course over the Northern Polar cap.” Sparrow took a deep breath before giving his final command. “All stations! Commence Combat Operations! HOLST THE BLACK FLAG!”
With those final four words the bridge crew carried out their orders. Deep on the bowels of the Mary Edwards Walker the twin Fleod Drums fusion reactors roared to their full power. For the first time in forty years the full military grade power of those two-hundred-year-old reactors came online. Unlike most Corsair dropships, the Mary Edwards Walker had stayed out of the fighting in the last war. The small, fast, heavily armed, and agile ship had only worked as an Intelligence gathering asset on the boarder of the Gorgonzola Empire. It was in truth nothing more than a civilian spy ship in the employment of the Human Empire.
Now that the order had been given, she was showing her true purpose and hidden military power. For the first time sense the young man took command for his father, the legendary Pirate Captain Daniel Sparrow, Captain Johnathan Sparrow was taking his ship into harm’s way as a true Pirate Captain. All he could do now was stand back and let his crew carry out his orders. He felt his ship surge forward at an ever-increasing speed. The words of a long dead poet came to mind as they sped through the blockade. “Cry ‘Havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war!”
“Aye, Captain!” The bridge called out as one. Over the last few years, they had come to trust their Captain. He may have come amongst them as an untrained teenager. Yet his natural ability to lead and insane piloting skills marked him as the true heir to his family’s legacy of piracy.
Cargo hold #1, Mary Edwards Walker
I strapped the last piece of my drop armor into place. I moved my arms and flexed my legs. Double checking that there was not pinching or binding. I always hated wearing the bulky armor needed for Extreme-High-Altitude Jumps. I take the time to double check my drop ‘bag’. The four-foot-long canister made from Durraloy Plasteel. Flipping open the canister I make sure that my weapons are secure and protected. Especially the CheyTac Industries SEM-200 Mark 41 Snipper’s Intervention rifle. Even after serval millennia CheyTac was still the primer firearms manufacturer of long rang sniper rifles. This beauty was their top of the line. Celest put the specs for the rifle up on my HUD.
Action Type: CheyTac Long Action w/40 MOA Base
Effective Range: 2500+ Yards
Caliber: .408 or .375 CheyTac®
Sub MOA
Overall Length: 56 inches
Interchangeable Barrels:
29” .408 Cal Twist 1:10
29” .375 Cal Twist 1:9.5
Weight: 31 lbs
Stock: retractable
Trigger: Timney Elite Hunter 1.5-4lb adjustable
‘That is one nasty piece of iron, Robert. You sure you don’t want to change out that beast for the Hellsign Castle Arms SEM-98? It’s still not too late.’
‘Celest with all of the stupid fracked up shit concerning this mission.’ I told her as I put my hand on the rifle, I had carried sense I had graduated from Snipper School. ‘This is the one thing that has remained true. I know this rifle has never let me down. I’m not about to go fracking with something that works. Especially not this late in the fracking damned game.’
‘Far be it for me to screw with what weapons you choose Robert. I was just offering you an alternative to the CheyTac. After all the SEM-98 is a larger caliber, has a greater reach, and greater impact.’
‘That’s true Celest, but I surrender the accuracy of the SEM-200 for that range and impact. With what we’re doing I need the accuracy more. Remember this is about raising the rebel forces to the level of a real army. The only way to do that is through winning the hearts and minds of the Apollo 6 citizens.’ I pointed out to her as I closed the drop bag and secured the case.
‘Robert, I have to ask. What are our chances of raising the army that you’re talking about? I would like an honest answer.’
‘It won’t take much Celest. There is something not in your database. It concerns the people of Apollo 6. It’s the mentality of the people concerning the Cheeseheads. There is a hatred that runs soul deep among them that the only way for the Cheeseheads to pacify the planet is through genocide. They will have to kill every last man, woman, and child born on Apollo 6. If they don’t it won’t matter how long they occupy the planet. They’ll never know peace. If you want an example of the average Apollo 6 citizen just take a hard look at me. On my home planet I’m no one special there but in the rest of the Empire I stand out. Just like anyone else from Apollo 6 would stand out. We are a rude, crude, sociably unacceptable, and totally uncivilized lot compared to the rest of the Empire’s citizens.’ I chuckled. ‘Believe me. The people of my home planet are already giving the Cheeseheads hell.’
“Yo, Gunner. We just got the word. We drop in fifteen. You ready?” Iceman asked.
“Yeah, I’m ready, Iceman. The drop tubes ready for deployment?” I asked.
“All set, bro.” Iceman chuckled knowing how much I hated the damned things.
“Then there is nothing left to do but strap in, I guess. What about our friend? She ready to go?” I asked looking around for Blackjack.
“She’s in the center line tube, position one. Both of the LTs are in positions two and three. I hate to say this bro but you’re in position four.” Iceman held out his hand to me. “Spit in her eye.”
“Spit in her eye, Iceman.” I said taking his hand and giving it a firm shack. “See you on the ground Ice.”
I grabbed my drop bag and helmet then climbed into my drop tube. After I pulled on my tactical drop helmet then closed the drop capsule. I let my mind fall away and surrendered my fate to the whims of chance. I checked the timer for the drop. We just passed the T-minus 8 mark. I heard the launch tube open at the far end. I felt the first of the drop cases move into firing position. I knew that it was about time for us to make our departure. I could feel the heat of the dropship cutting into the upper atmosphere. It won’t be long now. I checked the countdown one more time. Damn where did the time go? Thirty seconds to drop.
I watched as the countdown seemed to crawl towards zero. When it finally reached zero, I felt the first capsules fire. The drop model took up the majority of the cargo hold was made up of four rapid firing tubes. Each tube was feed automatically. Each tube had its own magazine. Each magazine could hold ten manned drop capsules or twenty decoy capsules. The decoy capsules would fall faster into the atmosphere than the manned capsules. They would explode at random altitudes filling the sky with radar scattering chaff, laser reflective foil, or launch high intensity flares. Everything one could think of to draw off the air defense artillery batteries. The mess those decoys made of the air above a landing zone was enough to cause an AI driven ADA battery to the point of meltdown. They would be the first magazine to empty itself. Simply because it didn’t need to take precautions with its cargo.
I felt my capsule slam home into the firing chamber. The next thing I felt I was g-forces of being fired out the end of the launch tube. For a few seconds all I felt was weightlessness. “Damn that pilot is good. Nice and level. Perfectly parallel to the planet’s gravity well. Hope like hell he gets his ship and crew out safely. If not, I’ll repay the Cheeseheads for their arrogance in attacking Apollo.”
Then it hit. The full force of Apollo 6’s gravity. I felt the drop capsule nose down and cut into the upper reaches of the atmosphere. “I FRACKING HATE ORBITAL INSERTIONS! JUST ONCE I WOULD LOVE TO MAKE LANDFALL IN AN ASSAULT SHUTTLE!”
‘Quite your bitching! It could be worse. We could be making a container drop.’ Celest snapped voicing her own bitch about our insertion method. Not that I blamed her. Even I hated container drops.
No one I know likes those. I mean you’re strapped into a twenty-foot-round ball with nine other people. That ball is dropped from low earth orbit. You actually fall like a giant rock. No chutes to slow you down. Only the padding and inertia damper to prevent injury at the end of your journey. Nine times out of ten you usually land in a body of water. Most of the time it’s a river or lake. The rest of the time you stand a good chance of hit an ocean. Then it’s a long swim to dry land. That is the only saving grace about a container drop. The containers float for about thirty minutes before sinking out of sight. Long enough for the passengers to get clear with their gear.
I feel the first two outer layers sluff off adding to the surrounding insanity that the decoys have created. Out of trained reflex I flip the switch for the air brakes. I feel them dig into the atmosphere slowing my descent. Next, I feel the drag chute deploy slowing me even more. After three seconds I feel it pull away taking the third outer layer with it. Just two more layers and I’ll be free. I can finally activate my HUD and scan the area around my drop capsule. Just as I feared. The ADA batteries are targeting the decoys as fast as they can. With this kind of fire, they were sure to hit more than a few of my fellow Death Dealers. I rotated my capsule scanning for the two LTs.
Then much to my horror I watched as both 1stLt Dan Strowman and 2ndLt Micha James were blasted from the skies. When I saw this, I hit the manual ride on my drop capsule blowing the last two capsule shells. I let myself drop clear of the casings. “Frack this shit. I’m not going to die fifty-five miles in the air. Time to take matters into my own hands.”
I flipped over into a headfirst position. I grabbed the cord for my drop bag and pulled it in tight to my body. I let myself drop like a bullet towards the ground below. I use my sensors to scan the area ahead of me. “Oh shit! Not good, not good at all. Celest weren’t we supposed to be dropped over the Dertrie Tundra?”
‘Yes. Why are you asking? Isn’t that it below us?’
“Oh frack! We’re more than a thousand miles off target. That’s the Stamburg Ice Sheet below us. Where are the rest of the teams?” I asked her quickly fighting down my panic. If I was this far-off target. Then who knows where the rest of the team will land. If at all.
‘Robert, we have a problem. The Fallen Angles aren’t landing where they’re supposed to land. The rest of the Black Saints are also off target. None of us are anywhere near to being on target. In short we’re screwed.’
“Yup, we’re screwed alright. At least I know where we’re landing. Keep an eye on the rest of the teams for as long as you can Celest. We’ll have to make arrangements for hookup at some time.” I looked down at the vast expanse of the glacier known as the Stamburg Ice Sheet. It didn’t matter where I landed on that ice. It was going to be a bitch of a walk home.
I double check my altimeter. I still have 40 miles before I need to open my main chute. I have got to get below 2000ft before popping my main chute. Even if I skeleton all the way it’s going to take me 30 seconds to reach my target altitude. Way too long to be hanging in midair with all the ADA fire. I can only hope that the hits that killed the LTs were luck. I rotated and looked to where they should be falling next to me. “There but for the grace of god.”
‘Don’t go getting all mushy on me kiddo. They both knew the odds when they climbed into their capsules. They’re the same ones that you and the others faced. I don’t care what those shitheads in the High Command say. The odds are the odds. They’re the same for every Death Dealer and Jump Infantry Soldier making an orbit drop insertion. One wrong mistake on the part of the dropship helmsman and you’re spread across thousands of miles. Worse you never get out the tube as the dropship burns up in the upper atmosphere. We’re free and clear. Now keep your eye on the altimeter. We're getting near the point of no return.’
“You can say that again sister. Start the countdown.” I ordered as I scanned the glacier’s surface. I had the feeling that this was going to be a hard landing. “Frack I hate landing in an icefield.”
‘It could be worse. We could be landing in the swamps or even a straight up water landing in a lake or river.’
“Not helping, Celest.” I snarled as my altimeter finally dropped below 1200ft. I flipped over so was I feet down and pulled the ripcord for my drop bag. Once it fell away, I pulled the ripcord on my parachute. The sharp jerk of my main chute opening let me know that it had fully deployed. I quickly looked up double checking the canopy, raisers, and guidelines. Praying that I wouldn’t need to pull the ripcord on the reserve chute. Not that it’ll help at this altitude. Not when I’m carrying an extra 200lbs of gear. “Looks like I’ll make down in one piece.”
“Gunner this is Blackjack. Over”
“Go for Gunner, Over” I answered over the radio.
“What is your location Gunner, Over.”
I brought up the map for the surrounding area. “I’m touching down at grid eight-two-nine-four-six by seven-six-seven-five-seven on the Stamburg Ice Sheet, Blackjack. What is your LZ, Over.”
“Two kicks magnetic north of your LZ. Still on the Sheet. Over.”
Damn. We’re spread the frack out worse than I thought. “Blackjack are you in contact with the rest of the team, Over.”
“Negative, Gunner. I lost contact with the rest of your team members. Did you see what happened to the Mustangs, Over?”
“They bought the farm halfway down in the drop, Blackjack. They dropped right into the sights for a battery of a Requiem Gatling Cannons. They never stood a chance, Over.” I could still see their deaths at the firepower of those massive ADA guns.
“Damn. Did the Mary Edwards Walker clear the area, Over?”
“No idea, Blackjack. Until I blew the inner shells, I didn’t even know that we were over the wrong drop zone. Over” I bitched.
“Gunner did the other teams make their assigned drop zones. Over”
“Negative, Blackjack. According to my scans both teams will miss their LZs by a good distance. How far they’ll be off is anyone’s guess. Thanks to those mountains on each side of the Sheet. We’re totally cut off from them. Over.” I quickly explained just before I rolled after hitting the icy sheet of the glacier. I quickly pulled the release to my raisers collapsing the canopy.
I quickly ran over to my drop bag 20ft away from me. I opened the lid and pulled out the entrenching tool. I began to break up the ice. I knew that I had to burry my chute fast. Blackjack came up on the radio once more. “Gunner did you get a fix on those Requiem Gatling Cannons. Over.”
“That’s a roger Blackjack. You in the mood for payback. Over” I asked chuckling.
“With interest, Gunner. Rally at grid seven-two-nine-four-six by seven-six-seven-five-seven. We’ll make our plans there. Out.”
“Copy that Blackjack. Out.” I went back to the job at hand. Once I had the hole dug, I broke out the rest of my gear. I quickly stripped off the drop armor. Once I was dressed in my BDUs and had secured my gear from the drop bag I put in the hole on top of the chute and rigging. Once I the hole was covered with snow and ice, I headed towards the rally point with Blackjack.
Bridge of the Mary Edwards Walker
Captain Sparrow looked over at his Helmsmen. “Talk to me Spencer. Are we going to clear the blockade in one piece?”
“I’m doing my best here, Captain.” Spencer called out over the roar of the engines. “As it stands, we got a one-in-one-thousand chance.”
“Spencer how many times do I have to tell you.” Sparrow yelled. Only to be interrupted by the rest of the bridge crew.
“NEVER TELL US THE ODDS!”
The two heavy destroyers cutting across their flightpath opened fire with their main guns. The ship’s Weapons Officer was already returning fire. Sparrow watched as four extreme-highspeed Mark-58n torpedoes left their catapults. He turned to his Weapons Officer. “GUNS! Those fracking monsters better hit the god damned target. If they miss, I’m taking their cost out of your paycheck.”
“Don’t worry Captain. They’ll hit. I won’t use them if there was any chance at missing.” The Weapons Officer laughed. “Besides, we can always charge the Crown for their use and get reimbursed.”
“Dammit Guns that is not the point. Those beauties cost half a million per unit.” Sparrow bitched. “And we only had twelve of them in stores.”
“Eight now, Captain. Don’t worry I’ll make them all count.” The Weapons Officer promised as he input the next target on his console.
“Captain we’ll clear the southern artic zone in five minutes. Once we’re over the southern pole we can make a run for the stars. The blockade has more holes in it than a sieve.” Spencer called back as cranked the wheel hard over to port. The Corsair Class dropship rolled hard to port as twelve beams of highly charged particles burned through the air where the ship would have passed.
“CAPTAIN! There’s a battleship three points of the starboard stern and closing.” The Sensor Operations officer called out. “WE need to take evasive action.”
“Coming hard to starboard.” Spencer called out.
“Belay that! All stations! Full power to the engines! Emergency assent! Tactical give me a full spread of missiles and torpedoes! Target that battleship! We go for the stars now! We’ll take our chances in deep space.” Sparrow yelled just before the ship was struck serval times in the stern. “Oh shit! Damage report!”
Before the Engineering Officer could give the report, the ship was hit again. This time Sparrow didn’t need a report to know they were in deep trouble. The bow of the ship started to nose over. They had just lost at least one of their engines. “Helm use the gravity well and slingshot us out of here.”
“I’ll try Captain. It’s going to be hard with only one engine.” Spencer yelled. Even as he was trying to carry out his new orders. The bridge crew knew this plan was a last-ditch effort to escape the planet and blockade. They all knew that there was no escaping the battleship and its escort. When the fighters started their attack, Sparrow knew it was all over.
“It’s been a pleasure serving with you all. Transfer all controls to my station. Give the order Comms. Abandon ship!” Sparrow called out just before both reactors went into overdrive and exploded. The death of the Mary Edwards Walker would be witnessed only by the crews of the Gorgonzola ships and one lone pirate ship coming to her aid in high orbit. As the Gorgonzola battleship and its escort ships headed for the stars pieces of the Mary Edwards Walker fell into the empty sea below.
Drop Zone 1
Sergeant First Class Adam ‘Ace’ Wilder looked around at the rest of the Black Saints. “Any word on the others Skipjack?”
“Sorry Ace. Nothing. We lost contact with Gunner, Blackjack, and the LTs ten seconds into the drop. I can only speculate but it’s a good bet that they all bought the farm.” Skipjack sighed then gave the really shitty part of his report. “Thanks to that fracked up deployment none of us hit our assigned drop points. None of us are we’re were supposed to be, Ace.”
“How far-off target are we Skipjack?” Asked one of the other team members.
“Anywhere between one to two-hundred miles, Redman. To honest I have no real way of knowing. Until we can get a secure satellite uplink to contact the other team, we’re on our own. The real kick in the ass is we’re going to have to rely on our AI’s internal navigation GPS. That and the map download. We also have one other problem. Without Blackjack and Gunner, we have no intel on the local population.” Skipjack the man honestly. “As for the Fallen Angles let’s just hope like hell, they made it down as a whole team.”
“Any idea of where we are Skipjack?” Asked the only elf on their team.
“That is the only good news in this frack up, Splinter. We may have missed our drop zone but we’re still inside the Deerfield Forest.” Pointing towards the southeast Skipjack continued. “If we head in that direction. We’ll hit Sario in two days.”
“Then that’s where we’ll head.” Ace grunted then turned to the teams sniper. “Specter move out and scout our path.”
The tallest member of the Black Saints just nodded his head as he unslung his rifle and disappeared into the surrounding woods. Ace just shook his head as the man seemed to vanish among the trees and undergrowth. In seconds, the team’s sniper was living up to his reputation and call sign. Ace turned to the others. “Time to move out Saints. We still got a mission to carry out.”
Drop Zone 2
“Jukebox you got anything on that damned radio yet?” Tigger asked hopefully.
“Nothing Tigger. Either we’re out of range for the others or they’re dead. With the Black Saints I’m sure that most of them made it down. As for those that went out the center line tube. I’m pretty sure they all bough the farm.” Jukebox told her sadly. “I caught their flight path on my HUD, Tigger. There was no way anyone could have known the position of those Requiem Gatling Cannons.”
“We all knew going into this that Gunner’s chances were next to nothing Tigger. When was the last time a One actually made landfall in a combat drop?” Iceman asked her coldly. “Come on Tigger think about it? You’re our Medic. Of us all you know the odds better than any of us.”
“Damn. At least he got to see his home world before buying the farm.” Tigger sighed as she thought about the massive firepower of those ADA guns.
“Alright people we still have mission. Let’s get it done. This time it’s personal for us all. This is payback for Gunner.” Iceman told them all as he stepped up as the team’s new CO. “Snow where were we supposed to rendezvous with the locals?”
“If we had hit our original DZ we would rendezvous with the local resistance twenty-one klicks to the south of the DZ.” Snow took a few minutes to access his AI internal navigation GPS. When it took longer than he expected to access the planetary GPS system Snow swore up a blue streak. “God damned, mother humping, shit fracking, no good, cock sucking, lousy dumb ass, son-of-bitching, pilot. He couldn’t even hold his flight path long enough to put us down near our original DZ.”
“Where exactly are we Snow?” Iceman asked with really worry in his voice of the team’s Intelligence and Surveillance Specialist.
“Not where we were supposed to be that’s for damned sure. We’re more than a thousand miles off target, Iceman. We were supposed to land on the southeastern edge of the Dertrie Tundra. We were smack dab in the middle of the Northern Rat Steppes.” Snow spat out through clenched teeth. “The nearest population center is Lineberry two-hundred miles to the east of where we are now.”
“Frack! If we’re that far off target is there anything, we can do to effect the outcome of this war?” Rimfire asked of Snow.
“It doesn’t matter.” Snapped Iceman. “We were given a mission. We’re Death Dealers. We either win or die by our own actions.”
The other five members of the Fallen Angles stood straight calling out for the very Heavens to hear. “Death is dealt by our hands!”
“Let’s move out people.” Icemen told them all. “Time to raise a little hell.”
Grid 72946 by 76757, Stamburg Ice Sheet
I wanted to smile as Blackjack walked up to me from across the glacier icefield. She may be a cyborg but behind that metal face lies the mind and soul a human. Thank the gods for this fact. Because I doubt that I could deal with an inhuman machine. “Nice to see you made it Blackjack.”
“Same.” Was all she said as she slung her M-93 Savage assault rifle over her shoulder. “You got a heading for those Gatlings?”
“Two points off magnetic east. Thirty-seven klicks from here. Just off the glacier. In the north end of the next valley over. If we want to get our payback. We need to get a move on. Those ADA batteries will be moving soon.” I told her honestly. “That’s if they follow SOP.”
“How sure are you of that Gunner?”
“Enough to bet my life on it, Blackjack. As for how long we have till they’re ready to move. We’re got a window of about nine hours. Give or take a half hour.” I answered her honestly. “It’ll all depend on how fast those gun crews can get their weapons broken down and ready for travel.”
“Wait. I thought that all ADA weapons were mobile.”
“Most are Blackjack. The KT-105 Requiem Gatling Cannon is the exception. Those monsters have to be hard mounted in some kind of fixed emplacement to fire with any accuracy. The recoil of those monsters would flip a standard mobile platform. It takes a good team nine hours to setup or break down their gun system. A true fast gun crew can get the job done in seven hours. A piss poor crew will take close to twelve hours.” I explained as we started walking in the direction of the guns. “Once they’re up though. They can target anything within their firing arch with damned near perfect accuracy. No matter how much chaff or how many flares get thrown out over their positions. If you’re dropping anywhere near just one of them, you end up with a fifty-fifty chance of making it down.”
“That explains why the two LTs didn’t make it down.”
“Like the saying goes. ‘When your time is up, your time is up. And there’s nothing you can do to change the outcome.’ The Lieutenants had the bad luck of getting targeted by those Requiems. We got lucky being the last two out the centerline tube. Those guns were already in target acquisition over our drop zone. They locked onto the first two drop capsules. That’s where we got lucky. We were both deep in the decoy chaff and flair coverage. If we had been further down, then it is a sure bet that we won’t be having this little conversation.” I grunted.
“I must say Gunner. You have an extremely fatalistic point of view about the deaths of your fellow Death Dealers. Not at all like that of your ancestor.”
“Got news for you Blackjack. Death’s own Daughter grew up with the same attitude that I still have. She just learned to hide it better. This is Apollo six. Of all the worlds in the Empire. There are only a very few where life is cheaper. More than once I barely escape with my life as a kid growing up on this planet. There is a very harsh saying about life on Apollo six. ‘For thirty credits you can get a woman for the night. For twenty credits you can get a bottle of liquor. For ten credits you can get your throat slit.’ I know that you didn’t play cards much during your time here on Apollo six. So, I’ll give you a fast lesson. Never try to bluff your way out of a shitty hand. Because nine times out of ten. The other guy will cut your hand off for cheating.” I rubbed my left hand out of habit as I told her that little piece of advice. I can still feel the scare that was once there.
“I take it that one of your fellow Apollo six citizen tried to teach that lesson?”
“He did more than teach me the lesson. I was fourteen at the time. If it hadn’t been for my upgrade, I’d show you the scare.” I chuckled as I waved my left hand.
“Is it true that Lord James Owens is some kind of legend here on Apollo?”
“More than just a legend. He represents hope for the common people of Apollo. The street punk raised to the highest rank among the finest soldiers in the Emperor.” For some reason I felt that I could open up to this woman of steel. “When I was a kid running the streets of my home. I hated the fact that I was related to the man called Death. It got me into more than a few fights before my parents were killed during the last Cheesehead raid.”
“Tell me something Gunner. What are the chances of those KT-105 Requiem Gatling Cannons being in just the right location to shoot down the LTs?”
“Truthfully. The only reason I can think of them being there is a live fire exercise. Though that is not the heart of the problem. The KT-105 is an Empyreal weapons system. Either the Cheeseheads killed off all the Death Dealers on Apollo six or one of the local rebellion factions has taken control of the planetary armory. Either way it can only mean trouble for any relief force the Empire tries to land here.” I slowly explained for Blackjack.
“What do you know that I don’t Gunner?”
“Just the full Tactical Operations Equipment listing for Apollo’s planetary arsenal. Not just those belonging to the Death Dealer division but every military unit on Apollo. Those KT-105s are the least of our problems when it comes to Air Defense Artillery units. If we were on the Eastern continent, we would have faced D-K-five-Y Grizzly Self-Propelled Air Defense Lasers. Just one of those monsters is strong enough to bring an Ogre class dropship with no problems. Currently there are twenty-five in the planetary arsenal.” As I laid out the situation for Blackjack, I had a feeling that she was shitting gold bricks.
“What else are we facing if the Cheeseheads have control of the planetary arsenal?”
“Depends on if the Cheeseheads can get the access codes to the underground armories. If we have too we can trigger the self-destruct for those facilities.” I looked over to her. “That is a last resort Blackjack.”
“I understand Gunner, but we may need to look into alternative methods for denying the Cheeseheads access to those armories. Any ideas?”
“Just one. We hack into the planetary AI control and reset all the locks to a dead man switch. Enter the wrong code three times and boom. No more armory.” I told her honestly. “It’s not perfect, but it will buy us time.”
“What about the local resistance? Couldn’t they use those weapons.”
“Sure, they could use them. Only problem is I know how the people of Apollo think. They would snatch up those weapons and go charging head long at the Cheeseheads. They would only end up getting themselves killed. Until they’re trained in the use of those weapons. We do our best to keep those weapons out of the locals’ hands.” I quickly explained for Blackjack. “You may have been here for some time it doesn’t matter. You’re not a local. You would be hard pressed to understand the mindset.”
“Brash, pigheaded, rude, crude, socially unacceptable, and totally distrustful of the government. Does that about sum up the attitude?”
“Yup that about sums it up neatly. I guess you do understand the attitude. It is one of the reasons that the Cheeseheads have always had a hard time on this planet. We don’t take kindly to shithead strangers pushing us around.” I told her with a nasty chuckle. “It may take us a while to get going.”
“But when you do. Nothing stops you except death.” The cyborg chuckled. “We’ve heard that about the people of Apollo six. Though right now we have a more pressing problem. Namely how do you plan on taking out those guns without any explosives?”
“Oh, we don’t have to worry about explosives. That little problem has been taken care of by the guns themselves.” I chuckled harder.
“You’ll have to forgive me Mister Wolff. My field of expertise is espionage and sabotage. Not guerilla warfare.” Blackjack pointed out with a chuckle of her own.
“The KT-105s are nasty pieces of work for sure. They’re one of the few ADA weapons that can kill just how everything in the air with any real certainty. They earn that kill rate because of the ammunition they use. That is both their strength and they weakness. You see the KT-105 use an actual high explosive round. Rounds that if not transported or stored correctly become highly unstable.” I patted my SEM-200 and snarled. “One well-placed shot and those HE rounds will do the rest.”
“Just how large of an explosion are we talking about here?” Blackjack asked.
“One that will set off a chain reaction of sympathetic explosions. The only thing that will be left is a smoking hole in the ground. The other weak point for those guns is the A-4-W-29 Curator Fire Support Vehicle. That is the fire and control AI for the whole battery. Four armor piercing rounds from this in the right spot and the A-4-W-29 is nothing more than a forty-ton useless paperweight.” Blackjack laughed at my comment about an armored vehicle being a useless paperweight.
“My only question is can you make those shoots?”
“Don’t worry about me making the shot. I just need a halfway decent Spotter. Anything in your training to help with that?” I asked her bluntly.
“I can help in that capacity. I won’t even need to use your Vector XVII laser range finder for that.” Blackjack snarked.
“That’s good because the Vector, ABC, and KESTREL are all with Rimfire. He’s my normal spotter and one hell of shoot with a M-ninety-three Savage assault rifle. Not that it will matter in the long run. If I have too, I can make the shots on my own. I do have one of the most advanced AIs known to man stuffed in my head.” I couldn’t help it as I tap the side of my forehead. I smirked.
“There is that. Now that I have you alone. Would you care to explain to me exactly HOW you have the same IFF code as the Empress Maiha?” Blackjack demanded.
“Seeing as how we have about three hours to kill. I guess I could tell you the story of the poor dumbass from the planet Apollo six and his Mark Two Second Gen Omega/Assault class Death Dealer AI, Celest.” I told her with a crooked smile and flippant wave of my left hand. For the next hour and half, I explained how I ended up sharing IFF codes with the Empress Maiha Nakatoma and one First High Lord of the Death Dealers; Commander James J Owens. When I reached part where the good doctor had dared to hack the Royal Archives. I thought that Blackjack was going to pop a damned fuse. In her case that could cause problems in a very real way. Problems along the lines of a nuclear reactor overload.
As we walked and talked, I noticed that Blackjack’s mechanical voice had a soft lilting accent to it. It was similar to the accent I heard as a kid around the port area of Goulcrest. The more she talked the more I realized that this cyborg would be perfectly at home aboard any of the small to medium sized freighters. We were about a thousand feet below the summit of the ridgeline when I had to ask. “Tell me something, Blackjack. What are you going to do when you finally retire? Head back out to deep space in your own ship?”
“Why do you think I will retire Gunner? I am a cyborg after all. I have no need to retire. I can operate for another two or three hundred years. If I don’t push matters too far. I can reach easily four to five hundred years.”
“You do realize that it’s against Imperial law for you to work beyond your seventh decade in Imperial Service. If you were a regular civilian, you can work for as long as you want.” I gave the cyborg as hard a look as I could. “But you’re not a normal civilian. You work for the Human Empyreal Government. After seventy years they have to give you your retirement. Doesn’t matter if you like it or not. You’re out. I figure that you’re about halfway to your mandatory retirement age. If not closer.”
“How do you figure that Gunner?”
“Simple. You’re the only person who has tripped to the fact that my IFF code is damned near a perfect copy for Wave Dancer’s. Then you went so far as to challenge my IFF in public. That means you’ve been around for more than thirty years. My guess is you’re one of the original Hands of the Emperor. If not the very first.” I figured that I had nothing to lose by confronting the cyborg. As it stands, I knew that our chances of surviving the attack on those guns were next to nothing.
“Your ability to see what others have not is remarkable, Robert Wolff. You will make a truly remarkable Wallace when the time comes. Though I do wonder at your rather bold declaration. Why do you ask now?”
“You want the truth?” I asked her only to get a nodded of her head. “Fine I’ll tell you. Our odds at surviving this attack are damned near zero.”
“How do you figure that?”
“The moment I fire my first shot we’re sure to be targeted by the troops manning those guns. If they can get those gatling guns pointed in our direction, it’s all over with. Those guns will level this mountainside in microseconds. Nothing can survive a point-blank blast from those guns.” I explained honestly. “Not even a Raider Class dropship can stand up to that kind of firepower.”
“Then we’ll die with honor. Just do me a favor. Make sure your one-shot counts.” Blackjack looked down into the valley as she crossed over the crest of the ridgeline. She held up her hand stopping me. “Robert you said they would be breaking down their guns. Exactly what all does that entail?”
“There is about eight steps in total, but the first step is to actually lower the barrel into the horizontal position level to the ground. This may sound easy, but the truth is it is much harder. Mainly because the barrel comes in two parts. If you lower the barrel without supporting the muzzle end first. The barrel will snap.” As I was explaining the process for transporting the guns something clicked. “Why?”
“Because nothing is going on down there. From what I can tell all of the gun crews have gathered around one of those transports.” Blackjack said as she pointed towards the ADA unit down below in the valley.
I quickly moved into position setting up my rifle. What I saw made me smile. Only the smile never reached my eyes. “That is no transport, Blackjack.”
“What is it then?”
“That is the greatest weak point for KT-105 Requiem Gatling Cannon Air Defense Artillery unit. B1-V7 Shooting Star Artillery Command and Supply Vehicle.” I told her as I lined up for my first and hopefully my last shot. “Unlike the A-4-W-29 that bad boy is actually carries the fuses for the HE rounds.”
“Why?”
“The fuses for the KT-105 are programable. They can be set to explode at certain altitudes. That’s what makes the KT-105 so damned deadly. They don’t have to hit their target directly. They just can kill with a near miss.” I explained as I placed the crosshairs of my sights on the armored command vehicle. “That beast may not control the actual fire of those guns, but it gives those guns their power.”
“Then all you have to do is actually hit one of those fuses? Can you do that?”
“With this rifle.” I chuckled as I locked my sights onto the weakest point of the control module for the B1-V7. I slowly squeeze the trigger until I see the red dot of a hard lock. Celest gives the wind, inclination, and elevation for my target. I make a slight adjustment to compensate for the crosswind on the valley floor. I let my smile grow as I count the number of personnel surrounding the B1-V7. “You were right about the gun crews gathering around that monster. Do you see those uniforms? They’re not regular Gorgonzola military. That my friend is a militia unite.”
“Are you telling me that the people manning those guns are Apollo six citizens?”
“Not exactly. You see over the last few decades there has been a steady increase of dissatisfaction with the local government. Those groups have steadily gained in popularity with the local citizens. I would be willing to bet that the Cheeseheads have promised those militia units all kinds of horseshit to fight on their side. The biggest promise would be total control over their individual regions.” As I explained about how the militia units had come into being on Apollo 6. I made my final calculations for my shot. “I suggest you get down Blackjack.” I warned her just before squeezing the trigger. “God gave his archangels weapons, because even the Almighty knew you don't fight evil with tolerance and understanding.”
My rifle barked and the recoil drove the butt into my shoulder. I released the magnetic charge started the sequence of death and destruction by sending the round down the barrel. Unlike most sniper rifles, the CheyTac Industries M-200 Mark 4 is in truth a man portable Gauss rifle. The sheer power of this weapon can kill an APS pilot in their cockpit with a single round. The round I fired was also unique to the M-200. No other sniper rifle fires a depleted uranium, long-rod, armor-piercing, fin-stabilized, discarding sabot round. The sheer kinetic force that was delivered by the round traveling at over 3,000 meters per second was equal to more than 20tons per square inch slammed into the B1-V7.
The resulting impact crushed the vehicle’s command module as if it was made from wet cardboard. The fuses contained inside exploded in response. The sudden explosion killed the gather gun crews in a blinding flash of light and heat. The blast sent shockwaves through the encampment area. Just as I had expected. The rounds for the KT-105s began to explode in sympathetic reactions. The result was sheer destruction of the surrounding area and ADA unit. Not even I was prepared for the destruction that I witnessed in the valley floor.
“By the gods!” Blackjack whispered. “When you said that you could destroy that gun battery with one round, I doubted you. How did this happen?”
“Remember when I told you about the proper precautions being taken in transporting those rounds.” I asked her as I stood up pointing down at the valley. “That’s what happens. They become unstable and the slightest shock sets them off.”
“What would have happened if you had targeted the rounds directly?”
“Not something you would have want to see.” I waved at the surround area. “None of this would be standing right now. The blast would have been four to five times stronger than what we’ve just witnessed.”
“Why’s that?” Blackjack asked as she scanned the area below.
“Because all of those rounds would have gone off at the same fracking time.” Then I gave her a harsh glare. “We would have been inside the blast radius.”
“Frack! Just how massive of a blast are we talking about here?” She asked.
“Back before humans headed for the stars on Earth there was a nation that had a bomb. It was called the MOAB. The blast from one of those was equal to eleven tons of TNT. If I had hit the rounds for the KT-105s the blast would have been equal to forty MOABs detonating all at once in a quarter mile area.” I answered honestly.
“Are you telling me that the blast would have been equal to four-hundred-forty tons of TNT?” Blackjack asked in shock. I just nodded my head yes. “By the gods of war!”
“The kicker is that blast would been nonnuclear.” I shouldered my rifle. “Come on Blackjack. We got about two to three hundred miles to cover until we reach the nearest sign of civilization.”
“Tell me something Gunner. Do you really believe that we even have a chance at organizing the local population against the Cheeseheads?”
“The people of Apollo six are easy going people. Right up to the point when you piss them off.” I told her with a smirk.
“What happens then?”
“They bomb your ass back to the stone age. Then they go in for the kill.”
-----tbc-----
Ding! Ding! LOOK SHARP EVERYBODY! The Eastern Egg hunt is on. Post your finds in the comments. I will give you one hint. There are 8 historical, 26 military, 4 political, and 5 pop-culture. (chuckles) HAVE FUN!
James Nakatoma stood quietly staring out the observation dome wondering how many times his mother Maiha stood in the very same spot. The weight of the war with the Gorgonzola Empire was boiling over to a full-blown war of genocide. The reports coming out of the Highlands System were depressing.
Whole villages were being slaughtered for daring to support the resistance. Out of the 90 some smugglers turned pirate only 23 were still flying. Of those 13 were in need of major repairs and refit thanks to their fighting the Gorgonzola Expeditionary battle fleet. For every ship they lost the pirates took at 5 with them to their eternal rest. Then there was the unconfirmed report that the Death Dealer Special Operations teams being KIA during their insertion hit even harder. Without those 14 deadly warriors to organize the locals he knew retaking Apollo 6 and the Highlands was going to be damned near impossible. Even after dropping all available Death Dealer Battlegroups on the Gorgonzola Empire the Human Empire had only managed to claim 15% of the needed territory to drive the enemy to its knees. Even with calling up the Phantom Divisions James knew that he would have to change the paradigm of the war. The question was how.
“Damn it. Why did those son-of-bitches have to push matters? I was willing to let them get away with their fracking raids, but this is ignorance.” James snarled.
“Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity, my Emperor.” The voice of the ancient AI had James chuckling. “That is better. What has you walking my walls at this time of the night, James?”
“The reports coming in from the front. At this rate we’ll capture twenty-five percent of Cheesehead territory only to lose the war to attrition.” James sighed. “We’re losing personnel and equipment at a rate we cannot substant.”
“I have gone over the reports as they have come in, James. I know that our Battlegroups have been taking heavy loses. I have run countless computations to account for these loses. I can only come to one conclusion. The Gorgonzola forces are using a new type of chemical weapon.”
“That would account for the total loss of the Death Dealers that were station on Apollo six at the start of the invasion. It would also account for the heavy losses on the other planets in the Highlands system.” James slammed his fist into the transparent armor plate that made up the observation dome. “For centuries we have avoided the use of those damned weapons on civilians.”
“That may be true James, but you have withheld our most powerful weapon to date. When will you carry out your mother’s threat? When will you unleash the seven-forty core crackers and rain down hell on these Fascist pigs?”
“To be honest old man. I was hoping to avoid the use of those monsters. I have always hated to wholesale slaughter of civilians.” James sighed once more as he looked down at the nightside of Aurora. “But they have brought this on themselves. Ryuk Priority one communique to all pirate captains in the Northern Lights system. Rendezvous at Aurora Station three. End communique. Send it now Ryuk. I want full conformation of receipt by all ships.”
“Sent my Emperor. All pirate ships have acknowledge receipt.” Ryuk was silent for a moment. “You’re sending them to deliver a package of death and destruction James. What planets are you planning on targeting?”
“There are fifteen individual States within the Gorgonzola Empire. That means fifteen capital planets that need to be destroyed not counting the Empyreal Capital Planet of San Vitruvio. Of those sixteen Capital Planets only ten need to be turned to radioactive dust clouds.” James snarled with a coldblooded viciousness only ever seen in his mother Maiha’s greatest moment of rage. “I will turn the Gorgonzola Military Command and Control structure into the fuel for stars.”
“You’ll have to forgive me James. But you have managed to confuse this old AI.”
“It’s simple Ryuk. The Cheesehead Military is structured the way of the NAZI military in nineteen-forty-four. Every unit is so micromanaged that it isn’t funny. All strategic commands have to run through their individual capital commands before being carried out in the field. Any military decision must be approved by their State Committee Authority. We take out just ten capitol planets and their whole command structure falls apart.” James chuckled with cruel intent. “Our good friend Chancellor Juliana and his people called for this tune for this war. It is time for them to pay the piper.”
“And what tune shall we play in return, my Emperor?” Ryuk asked with equal intent as he began calculating the needed hyper jump pathways for the pirate ships.
“We shall play them the Endless Waltz, Ryuk.” James answered honestly as he turned away from the window with grim determination. “And a bloody tune it shall be.”
Day 10 of Full Occupation
White Bull Tavern, Goulcrest, Apollo 6, Highlands System
Grayson Vanderbilt looked around the tavern’s main room slowly drinking a Howling Wolf black and tan beer. He still could not believe how far he had fallen in the last month and a half. His family estate lay in total radioactive ruin. All of his plans, all of his deals, lay in those same ruins. As far as he knew only his butler Markus had made it out of the estate with him. Of the Apollo 6 government only one other member had survived the first wave of the attack by the Cheeseheads. The most depressing matter was the Cheeseheads had attacked his militia forces. Destroying all but a handful of the weakest and poorest equipped units. The only thing that saved those units was their locations.
Even now the Cheesehead forces were losing forces in the mountain regions. The plains and swamp areas were death traps 2 out of 5 times for regular transport and supply units that dared to cross them by way of rail or road. Only in convoy formation was there any guarantee of success. The smaller outlaying cities weren’t as safe as the Proventil Military Governor was claiming. More than a third of those cities were hives for resistance cells.
The Resistance was going but it was still small and in danger of dying. The reports of the total destruction of Creeville, Shakmery, Noni, Glok, Zlale, and Ardrough had been confirmed by his fellow Parliament member Jennifer Julian. If she hadn’t been at her home in the Ivory Lynx Timberland at the time of the attack, she would be dead in the ruble of Capital.
“Excuse me sir. I have a report on the Revolutionary Extremist Union, Free Citizens Union, World Community Party, and the Monarchist League Army.” Markus’s voice brought Grayson out of his downward spiraling thoughts. When Grayson nodded his head, Markus continued. “As of zero-seven-thirty-five this morning the last of them were executed in Capital Square by order of Military Governor Baudelaire.”
“Let me guess. They were quartered, drawn, and hung using piano wire?” Grayson asked with deepening depression. When Markus nodded his head, Grayson sighed. “Damn. What about their weapons caches? Any word on those?”
“Captured by the Cheeseheads, sir.” Markus answered honestly.
“What of the North Mountain Volunteers? Any word from word them?” Grayson wondered.
“None sir. The same can be said for the other militia units in the regions for the Farmingroy Snow Fields, Deerfield Forest, Northern Rat Steppes, and the old Dornwich prefecture. To be honest sir. The only Resistance Forces that we’re still in actual contact with are the ones here in Goulcrest.” Markus sighed as he related the harsh truths of the situation to his employer. “Sir, I know you don’t want to hear this but if you are to make any headway with the locals. You need to turn the Ghost Fighters, and the Crimson Insurgents to your side. Away from Miss Julian.”
“Why do I hear a qualifier in your advice Markus?” Grayson snarled as he waved to the chair next to him.
Once Markus had taken his seat, he dropped his voice to barely above a whisper. “We cannot kill the whore out right sir. Miss Julian is too well loved by the local Resistance. If you were to even come under the smallest of suspicion in her death. All of the Resistance would raise up against you.”
Damn. How could that bitch gain the trust of the common people so easily?” Grayson mumbled to himself. “What does she know that I don’t?”
“The answer is in her birth sir.” Markus answered honestly. At Grayson blank look the butler sighed. “She is commoner sir. She has advantages that you as a Lord do not have. The greatest of which is she is a veteran of the PDF.”
“I forgot about that. Didn’t she use her status as a veteran to gain the needed votes to oust Randal Vought four years ago?” Grayson asked in confusion.
“She did. Though that was not her greatest draw. It was her Reformist Platform that gained her so many votes in Blackwater and Rockaway ports. The both seaboard areas love the woman. Mainly because of the changes she was able to push through the Parliament for the independent dropship captains and owners.” When Markus mentioned the Free Trade Shipping Bill that had killed Grayson’s plans for controlling all of the dropships coming and going from Apollo 6. It took all of Grayson’s control to keep from lashing out at his butler.
“Don’t remind me of that piece of shit bill. Tell me how we’re going to deal with the bitch already.” Grayson ordered heatedly.
“For now, we can do nothing sir. We need to be patient for now. Only a few of the Resistance members know exactly where she is hiding and working from. The same as for you. What you need to do is find ways to undermine her control.” Markus pointed out with true honesty. Markus knows that Grayson Vanderbilt is a greedy bastard. The problem is the greedy bastard is one of the few true leaders left on Apollo 6.
Grayson nodded his head and turned thoughtful. After several minutes Grayson snapped the fingers of his left hand. “Markus did the cache in Dunkirk Cove survive?”
“Yes sir. As far as I know it still remains hidden.” Markus answered quickly.
“I forget what all is stashed there. Do you know?” Grayson asked hiding his smile behind the lip of his glass of beer. Markus reached into his jacket and pulled out a Dark Hacker minitablet. Seeing this Grayson felt the need to comment. “That better be protected better than your soul Markus.”
“No need to fear sir. If the wrong password is entered this little beauty will explode. It will level a building the size of this tavern.” Markus reassured his employer. Markus held up a small blood testing device as well. “Without this blood glucose tester and the correct password that only I know. BOOM! No more tablet or surrounding building. Trust me sir. It is well protected.”
“Just wanted to make sure. It’s bad enough that I lost my home network. That is the only database we have to work from now.” Grayson sighed.
“No problem sir. Your worries are understandable.” Markus assured Grayson knowing full well that his own life depended on the security of the information his minitablet held. “Here we go sir. The full inventory for the Dunkirk Cove cache.”
Grayson took the minitablet from Markus and scanned the list. As he did his hopes for a positive future rose with each line.
1. 20 crates SEM-48A3 7.62x51mm assault rifles (24 per crate)
2. 20 crates SEM-32 45mm grenade launchers (12 per crate)
3. 20 crates SEM-22 45mm grenades (100 per crate)
4. 10 crates SEM-121 Light Squad Automatic Weapons (12 per crate)
5. 10 crates SEM-250 Heavy Barrel Flexible Machinegun (5 per crate)
6. 10 crates SEM-32 Anti-tank laser guided missile, launchers (2 per crate)
7. 50 crates SEM-28 Anti-tank Rage Fire laser guided missile (4 per crate)
8. 25 crates SEM-75 Light Gatlin anti-personnel Laser (1 per crate)
9. 25 crates SEM-750 Heavy Gatlin anti-armor Laser (1 per crate)
10. 15 SEM-17C High Mobility Fast Attack Vehicles
11. 15 SEM-21A1C Light Armor Striker Class Vehicles
12. 10 SEM-9C Light Armor Halftrack
13. 5 SEM-16C ADA Halftrack w/ M-45 Quad-mount Heavy laser
14. 15 SEM-3E8C Sherman Main Battle Tank
15. 25 SEM-977C Heavy Expanded Mobility Tactical Truck (HEMTT)
16. 2 SEM-45 Heavy Track Multiple Launch Rocket System
The list continued on listing all the needed ammunition for the weapons listed. But it was the SEM-45 HTMLRS that he wanted to insure that there was munitions for. IF the replacement rocket pods hadn’t been stored at the Dunkirk Cove cache then they were nothing more than one-shot wonders. “Markus where were the replacement pods stored for the SEM-forty-fives?”
“They are under the listing for spare parts sir.” Markus chuckled. “Don’t ask me why please. All I know is that is where Mr. Hennery placed them.”
“No need to explain Mr. Hennery’s reasoning, Markus.” Grayson chuckled. “I know that he has his reason for treating the replacement pods as spare parts.”
“Um… sir why on earth would he even think of classifying rockets as replacement parts?” Markus asked with real confusion.
“He’s a mechanic first and foremost Markus. To him the pods would be like replacing the barrel of a machinegun when it overheats. After all, once a pod has been fired it is little more than an empty stake of tubes.” Grayson chuckled softly. “Ah there they are. Humm… I thought had more than twelve replacement pods for the launchers.”
“There may be more in the other two caches that the Cheeseheads haven’t found sir.” Markus told Grayson as he took the tablet back and opened to other files. After scanning the files, he found what he was looking for. “Here they are sir. The rest of the replacement pods are in the Stanfield cache.”
“How many do we have in total?” Grayson wanted to know.
“With the twelve in Dunkirk it brings the total to thirty pods per launcher, sir.” Markus answered as he added up the number of pods.
“Not enough to force the Cheeseheads off our planet but more than enough to cause the bastards heartburn.” Grayson snarled with wicked intention. “Heartburn that will chock them on their own blood.”
Ranger station 15, Deerfield Forest: Day 7 of mission
Ace could not believe his team’s good luck sense landing. They may have missed their drop zone, but they were still close enough to their target. In many ways missing their drop zone had saved their lives. During the hike towards their original DZ they crossed a Cheesehead Cavalry patrol. Splinter knew that they were looking for the Black Saints and Fallen Angels. If they had hit their original DZ that patrol would have been all over the top of them. By missing their DZ the patrol was out of position to intercept them. That had been their first piece of luck.
The next piece of luck had come the second night of their mission. They were 54 miles outside of Sario when Specter found a local Police officer. If it hadn’t been for that officer’s warning, he would have led his team straight into a full company of Spectral Corps Mounted Infantry. That warning had been enough to avoid the Infantry and clear the area with time too spare.
Their next piece of luck came the next day. Skipjack was able to make contact with the Fallen Angels. They too had landed off target of their DZ. Yet they too had a run of good luck in avoiding Cheesehead patrols. The only downside to their mission so far had been the loss of contact with their LTs, Blackjack, and Warrant Office Wolff. Ace had been forced to accept the fact that they were KIA. Now that they were able to contact the Angels Ace knew they could coordinate their actions.
The last piece of luck had come that morning. Once again it was Specter who had come to the team’s rescue. He had stumbled across a Deerfield Forest Ranger. The Ranger offered his station for the team’s use as a base. Now that they had a base to operate out of, they could get down to work on organizing the Resistance. From what the Ranger had told him. The local Resistance fighters weren’t having much success. In truth they were losing members left and right. At the rate they were going there won’t be a Resistance much longer.
“Ace those locals you wanted to talk with are outside.” Ranger Steven Cox called out from the doorway. As Ace neared Steven he was warned. “Ace whatever happens don’t let the shithead in the blue ballcap run things.”
“What’s his deal?” Ace asked quietly as he drew next to Steven.
“That’s Dale Winthrop local Union boss. He runs Sario’s metal works plant.” Steven answered as he looked over his right shoulder at the man in question. “And most of the town thanks to his position in the Union.”
“I take it Sario is a union town?” Ace asked only to get a head nod from Steven. “Frack! Just what I need. The asshole is going to be one of those damned Union first frack nuts that I’ve always hated. How much of the local population is Union.”
“Better than seventy percent of the people in Sario belong to the Workers’ Union, Ace. The ones who don’t own their businesses or are farmers.” Steven explained quickly. “Even office employees are part of the Union.”
“Damn. Not good.” Ace snarled quietly. “Now I know what Gunner meant by having to deal with the local assholes first.”
“Um… Ace who is this Gunner you and your team have been talking about?” Steven wondered as they looked out at the five gathered leaders of Sario.
“He’s from Goulcrest and the leader for the other team of Death Dealers that landed with us on the other side of the continent. He warned us that we would have problems getting the locals to follow us.” Ace sighed. “Now I see what he was talking about.”
“If he is from Goulcrest and on the other side of the Northern continent then be thankful.” Steven grunted as he pointed with his chin towards the gather Resistance leaders. “The people around here don’t take kindly to those from the Capital. They don’t care who they are. Commoner, Politician, or High Families. They’re all scum in their eyes second only to Empyreal Reps in these parts.”
“Damn. Talk about knowing the population.” Ace chuckled. “Looks like Gunner called it right on this one.” At Steven’s blank look of confusion Ace explained. “When we were breaking down our teams and assigning them to sectors Gunner was the one to assign us to this part of your world. He said something about this area needing a blue color point of view to work.”
“I take it that you and your team are from blue color families?” Steven asked.
“You could say that Steven. All of us come from union-controlled planets. We all know how to deal with Union bosses.” Ace snarled then popped his knuckles. “One way or the other. That asshole will lesson to reason. We are the Professionals.”
“Good luck and God’s speed friend.” Steven chuckled and went inside. “You’ll need it with that bunch of fools.”
As he neared the gather men Ace took in their individual stances. He could tell that each man was expecting something from him. With one exception. Dale Winthrop, local Union boss, and from the looks of things all-round thug. Ace couldn’t help but think. ‘Typical Union Boss asshole. Worked his way up through the union on the backs of his fellow union members. If anyone got in his way. He made them disappear.’
“Gentlemen thank you for coming.” Ace started off with only to be interrupted.
“Enough with your pleasantries Black Shirt. Get on with your business.” Winthrop snapped then spat on the ground. “We got a planet to take back.”
“You know something Winthrop. I was going to try and be polite with your sorry ass.” Ace sighed then moved with a speed that none of the others expected. Even as he drove his fist into Winthrop’s gut Ace snarled. “But you had to go and be a fracking bigshot union ass wipe. Now shut the frack up and let the adults talk.”
With Winthrop on the ground gasping for breath Ace turned to the other four men. “Okay people let me be perfectly clear on this matter. There are eleven Death Dealers on this planet with the same mission. To give the Cheeseheads as much shit as possible. You can do one of two things. Listen to what we have to teach you or get the frack out of our way. Because if you get in our way, we’ll kick your ass right along with the Cheeseheads. We don’t care about what happened in the past. We’re here to do that one thing. Do you understand?”
“Just who the hell are you to think you can tell us how to deal with the Cheeseheads?” Asked the only man in a business suit.
“Death Dealer Sergeant First Class Adam Wilder, butthead. Leader of the Black Saints.” Ace snarled in response. “And Death is Dealt by my hand.”
“You all can do what you want, but none of my people will be helping this whelp and his thugs.” Winthrop grunted as he climbed to his feet. “The Union knows how to deal with Cheeseheads. We don’t need the Empire’s help.”
“You know something, Winthrop. I was going to ignore you. Find a way to work around you and your thugs, but I see that you’re going to be a real problem.” Ace sighed.
“And just what are you going to do to stop us, boy?” Winthrop snarked. In his eyes he had, had enough of this Empyreal dog’s bullshit. It was time to give him an education on how things worked in this part of Apollo 6. “Without the Union you’ll never have enough people to form your little Resistance Force.”
“So, you’re going to withhold the support of the Workers’ Union unless you’re put in charge. Is that it?” Ace asked with a knowing smile.
“I am in charge here boy. If you hadn’t figure that out by now. Then you’re dumber that you look.” Winthrop chuckled as he cross his arms over his chest posturing.
“I thought you would take that point of view.” Ace gave the man a nasty smile that never reached his eyes. “Seeing as how you feel that way let’s end this problem with a little one on one fight?”
“You caught me off guard with that first attack of yours, boy.” Winthrop snarled as he took up a fighting stance. “Time for you see what a real Union man can do.”
“Find by me, asshole. I only got one question?” Ace stepped towards him without taking up a fighting stance. “First blood or death?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ask one of the men in coveralls.
“It means that whoever draws first blood wins.” Skipjack said as the other Black Saints joined the gathered men. “Or the fight is to the death. Challenger’s choice.”
“Doesn’t matter. Either way this boy is going to know his place.” Winthrop snarled. “If that means I have to kill him to get the rest of you to understand that the Union runs things around here. Then so be it.”
With that Ace chuckled. “Then to the death it is. Now, shut up and fight, asshole.”
The fight was over before it really began. Winthrop threw a hard punch at Ace’s head only to find his hand blocked by the younger man’s arm. Ace threw one punch. It was a deliberate strike to Winthrop’s windpipe. The single blow crushed the man’s windpipe killing him instantly. As Winthrop fell to his knees trying to breath the other men looked on in horror. The callus way that this Death Dealer killed shocked them all to their very cores. Yet even more shocking was the fact that he had just killed one the best bare-knuckle fighters in all of Sario with one punch.
“That gentlemen is how a Death Dealer fights. We hold nothing back. It is all or nothing for us. You want to take back your home. Then shut up and listen to what we have to teach you. Do that and we’ll give you a real fighting chance.” Snarled the white haired and blue-eyed High Elf Splinter. “Almost a hundred years ago a lone Death Dealer came among my people. It was by his teachings that we learned how to wage war as a unified people. Here you have eleven of us. Just think of how much we can teach your people and how many lives our teachings will save.”
“Lee this is one time that we need to swallow our fracking pride and accept their help.” The man in coveralls grunted. “We all knew that Winthrop was pushing his own frack agenda from day one of the attack.”
“That is beside the point, Jeered. We have a long tradition of fending for ourselves. We’ve never needed the Empire’s help before.” Lee Collins, the business suit wearing man grunted snidely. “Why change that now?”
“Because those aren’t standard Cheesehead soldiers you’re facing.” Spector called out from the doorway. “Until now the Gorgonzola Empire has kept their Great Guardians Divisions within their borders. The soldiers you’re facing now are nothing less than the most diehard fanatics in all of Human space. They don’t question the orders of their commanders and will fight to the death. They will slaughter very last man, woman, and child on this planet if ordered.”
“Is that why they’ve been wiping out whole towns and villages?” asked the one man in the group who had remained silent until now. “Names Jason Hall and I run the local hunters’ guild. Unlike Winthrop, I actually know what I’m doing with a rifle.”
“That may be true sir, but you’re still an amateur. The first time you try to snipe one of the Cheesehead commanders you’ll end up dead. Oh, you may get your shoot off and kill your target.” Spector said as he walked over and got right in Hall’s face. “But then the Cheeseheads will drop a full battery of one-five-fives on your head. Then you and your spotter are dead. You’re not hunting row bucks or big horns now. You’re hunting humans. The deadliest of animals. Get that through your head.”
“I would listen to him Hall. Spector was the number two sniper in his class.” Skipjack chuckled. “You don’t want to meet the number one.”
“If that is the case, they must be a truly terrifying Death Dealer.” Lee chuckled. “Though it is a shame they’re not on Apollo right now.”
“I never said that sir. I would wager long odds that right now Warrant Office Robert Wolff is raising unholy hell wherever he is on Apollo six.” Ace chuckled. “That man is truly a one-man army.”
“Did you say this Death Dealer’s name was Robert Wolff?” Lee asked for the stunned Resistance Leaders. “Please tell me that the son of our greatest heroes returned?”
“I don’t know about him being the son of your heroes, sir. I do know that Wolff is from Apollo six.” Ace explained a little confused by the reactions of the men.
“WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YOU SAY YOU WERE WITH HIM?!” Yelled Hall. At the looks of confusion on the Death Dealers’ faces he chuckled. “Young man the fact that you’re here with a Wolff will smooth over a great deal of bitching for you.”
“Why’s that?” Ace asked in real confusion.
“This planet owes a great debt of honor to the Wolff family and the Owens clan. There’s not one citizen on all of Apollo six who hasn’t heard the tale of their heroics.” Lee quickly explained. “Or of his parents’ sacrifice.”
“Then it’s a good thing that he’s here?” Skipjack asked in bewilderment. “That’s not what he told us on the way here.”
“There are only small minority that hold grudges against the Owens Clan or Wolff family, young lady.” Hall chuckled then spat out a wade of tobacco juice. “You’ll find those sorry asses among the High Families.”
“Looks like Gunner came by his attitude for the High Families naturally.” Spector snarked. At the funny looks from the Resistance Leaders, he chuckled. “Warrant Officer Wolff got into more than one fight with the dipshits who came from High Families in our class. Put more than a few in the hospital and ended their chances at earning their Empyreal Blacks.”
“That sounds like a Wolff alright.” Lee chuckled. “Now, gentlemen. Let’s get down to business. We’ve got people to train.”
Lineberry pass, 50 miles north Lineberry, Eastern Rat Steppes
“Rimfire to Tigger, Over”
“Tigger here Rimfire. You have traffic? Over” Tigger answered the radio call from their forward Scout quickly. She knew that he won’t break radio silence without reason. Whatever it was had to be bad.
“We got incoming. One company of India, Foxtrot, Victors, with a platoon of Foxtrot, Alpha, Victors for Scouts. Over”
When Tigger heard there was a full company of IFVs with an FAV in support headed their way she chuckled. “Copy that Rimfire. ETA on guests? Over”
“At current speed, sixteen-mikes, Tigger, Over”
“Copy that Rimfire. Any sign of air support? Over” Tigger asked of her only worry.
“Negative signs of air support, Tigger. Not even an ancient Uniform, Hotel, sixty-two Seahawk. Something smells, Tigger. Over” Rimfire warned.
“Copy that Rimfire. Start your withdraw now. Rendezvous with team at our location, Over” Tigger ordered as she thought about his warning. Tigger turned to Iceman. “Okay boss you heard Rimfire. Do we still set off the ambush?”
“It doesn’t matter if they have air support or not, Tigger. We spend the last three days setting up this ambush. Once those Cheeseheads are in the trap. We blow the charges. I know that we’re starting to run low on supplies but until we clear out this company of Guardians. We cannot take the chance of heading into Lineberry.” Iceman didn’t like having to make all the calls, but he was the one with the rank.
“I know that Iceman. I just wish we could’ve taken down that supply convoy two days ago. Then we would need to head for Lineberry.” Tigger bitched.
“I would have loved to take it down myself Tigger.” Iceman sighed and looked down the highway towards the direction of the enemy company. “But thanks to the locals acting the fool. The Cheeseheads have been escorting their supply convoys with Fire support APS lances. I know that we have the firepower to take out everything up to an Assault class APS individually. It just isn’t the time for that.”
“Why not Iceman? We’ve been pulling this hit and run bullshit for the last week. I say we start slamming the Cheeseheads where it hurts.” Jukebox grunted. “Or have you turned yellow Iceman?”
“Knock it off Jukebox. Iceman is our CO until we either confirm Gunner’s dead or join up with him. Either way we fallow his orders. Got it?!” Snow snarled in defense of Iceman’s orders. “He’s kept us alive and on mission so far.”
“Fine. I just hate all this sneak and peek bullshit. I signed up to hurt the Opfor.” Jukebox grumbled. “Not annoy them.”
“Look I get where you’re coming from Jukebox.” Iceman sighed with real understanding. “But every time we hit one of these troop convoys, we bleed the Cheeseheads that much more. As strong as their military is, sooner or later. They will have to give up. No nation has an unlimited supply of troops.”
“You seriously think we can turn this into a war of attrition?” Snow asked of Iceman. “Come on man. We’re only one fire team.”
“A fire team of Death Dealers.” Iceman snapped. “And yes, we can turn this into a war of attrition. This is our kind of war people. We keep taking out the troop convoys. The local Resistance will take notice. Once that happens. We start training them to take back this planet.”
“Okay boss. I gotcha now. We have to win the hearts of the locals before we start breaking heads in earnest. That it?” Jukebox wanted to know.
“Now you’re starting to think like a Spec Ops Death Dealer, Jukebox. Remember we are Force Multipliers. We go in and turn the local population into trained soldiers. While the main force takes out the capital forces of our enemy.” Iceman chuckled at the blush of embarrassment that crossed Jukebox’s face. The sounds of heavy track engines reach their ears just before Rimfire showed up. “Time to punch the clock and go to work people. How far out is the convoy Rimfire?”
“Ten minutes and counting boss. They’ve changed formation slightly.” Rimfire reported with a smile. “They pulled the lead FAV back and replaced it with an IFV.”
“Those IFVs what make are they?” Iceman asked with a nasty grin.
“The new thirty-five-ton F1-D5 Lurker. Real pieces of shit. The damned things can take a direct hit on the front and sides with no problem.” Rimfire answered giving off the technical data for the F1-D5 Lurker Infantry Fighting Vehicle. “But the ass end and top armor is paper thin. Depending on the variant. Only the anti-tank gun carriage has any real protection on top. As for the rest of the variants. Well, our SEM-48A3s can punch holes through with no problem.”
“What about the FAVs?” Tigger asked quickly as she thought about their mobility.
“All six are Scout/Fire suppression models of the CIQ1R Cyclone.” Rimfire chuckled.
“You have got to be shitting me? Really?” Tigger asked with real excitement.
“I’m not shitting you Tigger. You want to know the good part?” He asked her with a wicked grin. “Not of them have the reactive armor plating.” When Tigger heard this her eyes weren’t the only ones to bug out. “They’re all canvas skinned.”
“Rimfire, Tigger, you’re to target the last two Cyclones in that convoy. Do not let them enter the blast zone. I want those bitches for our use. They go down first. Once they’re stopped, we blow the charges in the road and pass walls.” Iceman ordered and looked towards the oncoming convoy. “Everyone to your positions. Here comes our dance partners. Jukebox, get ready to play the music.”
“On it boss.” They all called out and took their positions for the ambush.
Iceman watched as the number 1 IFV entered the kill box. He raised his left hand to single Jukebox to get ready. When he heard Tigger and Rimfire pull the trigger of their rifles he dropped his hand. The blast of the buried explosives rumbled through the pass floor. The Fallen Angles watched as the enemy IFVs flipped over, exploded from the inside out, or just stop dead in their tracks and burn. The 4 FAVs that escaped the sharpshooter fire dead in the heart of the blast. Tigger and Rimfire both squeezed off three more shots. Killing the crews of the 2 FAVs outside of the blast zone. The Fallen Angles were no longer walking.
“Let’s go people. Sweep and clear. Meet up at our new rides.” Iceman ordered and headed down the slope of the hill towards the kill box. As he moved, he swept the area ahead of him with his rifle. Like his fellow Death Dealers, he checked each IFV and FAV he came across for signs of life. He like the others found nothing. Their ambush was a textbook example of how to kill a convoy with overwhelming odds.
While Iceman, Snow, Free Runner, and Jukebox cleared the kill box, Tigger and Rimfire secured the two undamaged Cyclones. As Iceman passed the last IFV Free Runner stopped. Until now she had kept her opinions to herself and carried out his orders. “Ice we need to talk.”
“What’s up Free?” Iceman asked in a hushed voice.
“Sooner or later, you’re going to have to face Jukebox in the circle. He may have backed down for now.” She told him as she looked to where the hothead of their team was checking a destroyed FAV. “If you haven’t figured it out yet. He thinks he should be the one in charge.”
“Yeah, I know. It doesn’t help that we’re both E-sixes.” Iceman sighed. “Do you really think he’ll push it that far?”
“He’ll push it that far and more, Iceman. That old bullshit about Navy and Marines leading the way is too well ingrained in his mind. You got time in grade and the experience as ground pounder. I’ll follow you as well the rest of the team anywhere.” Free Runner told him as she looked at the one problem child in the team. “Jukebox on the other hand will question your every order. Put him in his place before shit gets stupid and we start losing people. If Wolff was here, he won’t think twice about fracking with him for one simple reason. Wolff would have handed him his ass already more than once.”
“Read you load and clear Free. I’ll take care of our problem child once we’re secure. Let’s head over to the FAVs.” Iceman reassured his team’s languages and vehicle expert. “You know something Free Runner. I got a feeling we’re going to get a lot of use out of our new wheels.”
“Be nice to not have to walk every damned where for a change.” She chuckled. Twenty minutes later the two Cyclones were speeding away from the ambush site. It would be eight hours later before anyone would know of the ambush. The legend of the Fallen Angles would be born that day. All thanks to a piece of graffiti left at the site of the attack on the side of a destroyed IFV. To most the sight of wings and a halo would speak to religious connotations. Not this pair though. No one could mistake broken wings as anything other than a Fallen Angle.
Ridgeline overlooking Camp Rampage, Occupation Command
I looked over at Blackjack one last time. “This is where we part ways partner. You can find an entrance to the underground tunnels four killicks long this ridgeline.”
“You sure you don’t want to stay with me, Gunner?” The cyborg asked. “I know that my people could use someone with your training.”
“Sorry but no. After I take this shoot, I’ll be fading into the Goulcrest population. Trust me I know the streets of this city better than anyone else.” I chuckled as I thought about what I was about to do. “This is one time where two is a crowd.”
“You have to be crazy Gunner. You know the moment you take that first shoot all hell is going to rain down on this ridgeline. I count no less than a full battalion of Heavy and Fire Support APS down there in that camp.” Told me grimly. “They’ll level this hillside in nothing flat. What are you going with that kind of firepower aimed at you then? That rifle of yours may be able to punch through the armored glass of the cockpit but those beasts will be moving by then.”
“I don’t plan on staying in one spot Blackjack. I also have one advantage that they don’t have. Time.” I chuckled evilly. “It takes time to mount an APS. It even more time to bring them online from a cold start.”
“How long?” Blackjack asked with true interest. This was information that she and her teams could use in their own fight against the Cheeseheads.
“From a cold startup ten minutes. That doesn’t count the three to four minutes it takes to climb up to the cockpit without steps or ladder. If there is a ladder or steps two to three minutes. That doesn’t take into count the five to seven minutes it takes to reach the APS. That’s anywhere between seven to ten minutes. During that time, an APS pilot is exposed to fire. In six minutes with this rifle, I can place twelve aimed shoots over a forty-meter area.” I told her as I lifted my snipers rifle from my shoulder.
I dropped my rucksack on the ground. I began to remove the magazines I had stored there. Once I had all 12 spare mags plus the 6, I had in my ammo pouches laid out I grinned. “I got damned near a full combat loadout for this monster. That’s ninety rounds I get to play with. More than enough to keep those dumbasses occupied until you get into the city undetected.”
“That is an awful lot of killing to do and still stay in one place.” Blackjack snapped. “I suggest that you return the extras to your rucksack. There’s still a whole lot of fighting left to go in this war.”
“I’ve beaten the odds in life more than once already, Blackjack. By all rights I should have died on the backstreets of Goulcrest years ago.” I told her honestly as I set up my rifle to take my first shoot. Even as I laid down behind it. I felt a peace come over me that I had not felt in a long time. Without looking up at her. “My parents died on this planet fighting these pieces of shit. This isn’t war.”
“Then what is it?” Blackjack asked fearing the answer.
“It’s payback.” I snarled as I sighted in on a dipshit officer that just returned at salute. “Get ready to run.”
“I’ll let you continue with your plan if you’ll answer one question for me.” Blackjack wanted to know as she turned in the direction of the underground entrance. I just nodded my head. “Why are you so set on dying here today?”
I sighed and sat up. I grabbed all but 2 of my magazines and returned them to either my rucksack or ammo pouches. She was right. If I continued down this path, I would end up dead. “Fine. If you make it in. Find either the Sky Reach Orphanage or Club and Cuff bar downtown. Just ask for me at either place.”
“Why do I have the feeling that I won’t get a warm welcome at either place?” Blackjack asked with a wicked chuckle.
“Because you won’t, but don’t worry they won’t kill you at first sight.” I told her honestly. “The only person who will have a real problem with you is Father Jim at the orphanage. He get overprotective of his charges. He’s still good people.”
“Why do I feel a story hidden there somewhere?” Blackjack asked she started to walk in the direction I told her. “You’ll have to tell when we meet up again.”
Once she was gone, I took up my firing position once more. As I scanned the base that had once been the home for the 12th Airborne Ranger Battalion, 43rd Airborne Border Division I felt a deep-seated rage rise up in my chest. I don’t remember where I first heard the words for the prayer, but they came flooding back to me.
“Blessed Lord grant onto me your divine Grace. For I intend to die the hero or live long enough to become the villain. Let your hand guide my aim so that I might smite mine enemies. As your Angle of Fate did whisper in my ear that I could not stand against the storm. I did whisper in her shell-like ear. I am the storm. Amen.” I pulled the trigger and sent the first round down range.
I know it wasn’t an officer, but the APS tech would do just fine for kicking off the confusion. I shifted my sights to my next target and fired. This time I targeted the MP on duty at the gate. I was shifting targets before the second hit its mark. This time I was targeting an officer near the APS units. I was onto my fourth target before the garrison sounded the first alarm. “Damn they’re slow. Must not be regular military or they’ve gotten complacent.”
I quickly reloaded a fresh magazine then shifted my sights to the APS room exit and waited. Then as the first pilot exited the ready room, I pulled the trigger. He dropped 4 feet from the door. The second pilot died while still in the doorway. The third pilot made it 6 feet from the door before he died. The fourth pilot joined the third in the doorway. The fifth pilot didn’t even make it to the doorway as I dropped him while still inside the ready room. As I was reloading three APS pilots cleared the ready room and were headed for the machines. I dropped them in rapid succession. Then returned to the ready room. As the next two pilots tried to retreat to the ready room’s safety, I put one round into the head of each.
I quickly loaded my third and final magazine that I was going use. I shifted my targets from humans to equipment. I upped the output on my rifle to full power. I sighted in on the fuel depot and fired. Once again, my M-200 Mark 4 acted as a man portable Gauss rifle. Again, the round I fired was unique to the M-200. Unlike the depleted uranium, long-rod, armor-piercing, fin-stabilized, discarding sabot round I used on the B1-V7. This one was a HEAT round.
HEAT stands for high-explosive anti-tank. This a type of shaped charge explosive that uses the Munroe effect to penetrate heavy armor. The warhead functions by having an explosive charge collapse a metal liner inside the warhead into a high-velocity superplastic jet. It was perfect for destroying equipment. When it hit the first fuel storage tank the explosion lite up the evening sky with a rolling fireball. The next four rounds found their quickly marks. In their passing those 4 HEAT rounds destroyed several light transports, started ten fires, and caused the ammo storage building to explode.
“Well, that’s enough insanity for one day. Time to bug the frack out.” I said as I grabbed up the empty magazines and my rucksack. For the first time I was happy as hell to have that extra foot on the end of the barrel for the suppressor. If not for that the garrison force down, there in that camp would have been all over my ass in minutes following my first shoot. Thanks to it I now had all the time I needed to escape. Well, that and the piss poor reaction time of the Cheeseheads. “With all the hell I just raised down there. It’ll take them more than three to four hours to organize a search party. I should be able to reach the underground entrance before they even figure out where I setup my nest.”
As I worked my way to the underground entrance, I kept thinking about how piss poor of a showing the Cheeseheads put up. I don’t know what it was, but something was way off. It was like they couldn’t be that they were actually being attacked. As I neared the outer edge Goulcrest I found out why. The majority of the Cheesehead forces where Occupation troops. These guys were real, honest to God REMFS. Second rate soldiers at the best.
“Where the frack are the Front-Line troops?” I wondered as I worked my way to the underground tunnels. Once there I was able to make my way to where I could go above ground and onto the backstreets that were my second home. I took a deep breath and let a nasty smile grace my face. “Damn it's good to be home again.”
-----tbc-----
As I was slipping through the back door of the Arctic Afternoon four hours later. The first search team was passing within 50 meters of my nest. It would take three more search teams and eighteen hours before someone finally found my sniper’s nest. When I first found one of my favorite restaurants abandoned, I was surprised. Before the war it was a thriving business. Then I found the order of seizure and arrest from the Cheesehead Occupation Forces Commander. I had more than enough reasons to kill those bastards before. Now I had one more.
“The Brown Shirts came for them all four days ago, Robert.” I spun around on my heel ready to fight at the sound of the voice. It took me a second to recognize the person standing in the doorway. “Why don’t you retrack those blades, boy.”
“Sorry about that Father Mike.” I blushed and retracted my CQC blades. “Kind of happened by reflex. By the way who are these Brown Shirts?”
“The Brown Shirts are the Civic Intelligence Department. They’re nothing more than a pack of thugs in uniform. As for your reflexes trust me, Rob. I fully understand. Now step into the light so I can get a better look at the new you.” Father Mike O’Brian chuckled as he waved for me to move out of the shadows that I currently stood in. when he got a good look at my new face, he did a double take. “J.J. is that really you? Or am I seeing ghosts?”
“Sorry Father Mike but it’s me, Rob.” I swallowed hard as I had to asked the next question. “Did you really know my great Uncle, Father?”
“Let’s store your gear in the orphanage basement first. Then you and I will take a walk down to the Club and Cuff for a drink.” Father Mike told me sagely. “The story of how I came to know your great Uncle is one that should only be shared over a few beers and one not to be told while sobber.”
“Okay what does that mean?” I asked as I grabbed my rucksack off the floor.
“You’ll find out in good time. Besides, I think Police Captain Wallace needs to know that you’re back in town and wearing the Blacks.” Father Mike grunted as he led me out the back door into the alley behind the restaurant. As we worked our way down the darken alley, I began to think I might actually survive this damned war. “Robert, I had a visit from a cyborg earlier. Care to explain?”
“She’s a ‘work friend’ Father Mike. Did she leave a point of contact?” I asked already knowing he was talking about Blackjack.
“She did not. As well you know, boy.” Father Mike spat out. “We’ll be having a long discussion about you consorting with those types, boy.”
“And what type would that be Father?” I asked him sweetly.
“Don’t play dumb. You know how I feel about spies.” Father Mike snapped and looked back at me with some heat. “At least tell me she works for Military Intel?”
“Let’s just say that she only answers to the big boss Father.” I could barely hold in the chuckle as the implications of my words hit home.
“She’s a member of the Emperor’s Hand.” Father Mike sighed. “I have often wondered about those young men and women. To have that kind of conviction to duty is only matched by those of the Faith.”
“I don’t know about that Father Mike. From what I’ve been told about them. The only thing they believe in is each other and the Empire.” I had to be honest with the man. “I doubt that there is another organization in all of the Empire that are as loyal to the Royal Family as them. With good reason too.”
“And what would be that reason, Rob?”
“Because the Royal Family holds the key to their freedom.” I told him honestly. I had gotten the whole truth out of Blackjack during our time together about the members of the Hand. During our walk to the orphanage, I explained how every member of the Emperor’s Hand were convicted criminals. It didn’t take us long to reach the basement entrance for the orphanage where I spent my teenage years. Thanks to working our way through the backstreets we avoided the random Brown Shirt patrols. “Tell me something Father Mike. Where are the regular Front-Line troops?”
“They’re trying to pacify the outer Provinces. Look it’s long story Rob. This isn’t like your normal raid Rob. The Cheeseheads have been landing a full division of occupational forces every two days. These frack nuts aren’t regular troops.” Father Mike explained as he unlocked the door to the basement and let us inside. I quickly stowed my rifle and rucksack in my old storage locker. While I was at it, I changed my clothes. They were a little tight and thread bare but will do for now. “They’ve been trained in urban and rural suppression tactics.”
“In other words, they have no problem with targeting civilians as enemy combatants.” I snarled just before I punched my locker door. “Damned pud pounders.”
“Rob it is far worse than them just targeting civilians. They’re classifying any one with connections to the Resistance as terrorists. As such they are not protected by the Conventions of War.” I heard the pain in his voice as he told next part. “The Cheeseheads have gone as far to use Chemical weapons on the smaller villages.”
“What is the fatality rate of those weapons?” I had a feeling I won’t like the answer. “How many times have they used them?”
“No one survives these new chemical weapons Rob. They’ve used them fifteen times so far. Once on the Death Dealer’s forty-third Airborne Border Division, three times on mining installations, one fuel refinery, the rest on villages in open revolt. Whatever this shit is Rob, it doesn’t last long. Within two hours after the last of the gas release has stopped you could walk naked through the affected areas. The only good thing about this weapon is you know when they’re going to use it.” As Father Mike slowly explained about the new gas the madder I became. Then he gave me the weakness for this weapon. “They have to use special fog or smoke generators to deploy this new gas, Rob. If we could destroy those generators, we can stop the use of the gas. They have to be a priority one target for any operation your teams undertake against the Cheeseheads. We need to stop the use of that weapon.”
“That might be a problem Father Mike.”
“Why’s that?” He asked quickly.
“For starters. There is only me. I’m out of contact with the rest of team.”
“Are you telling me that you’re not here to make contact with the Resistance leaders for the rest of your team. What the hell happened Robert?” He demanded.
“Our drop went totally FUBAR from the get-go, Father. The dropship we were using came under fire from a battery of KT-one-oh-five Requiem Gatling Cannons. We may have been laid down in nice flat trajectories, but those trajectories were all over the fracking place. None of us came down anywhere near our planned Drop Zones. After that I lost contact with the team. Without a satellite uplink I have no way of knowing where they are or what they’re planning.” I answered honestly.
“Do you have any idea of what your teammates will do?” He asked with worry.
“The rest of my team will follow SOP. The first thing they’ll do is hookup with the local Resistance cells nearest them.” I couldn’t help the nasty grin that crossed my lips. “After that they’ll do what all good Death Dealers do.”
“And just what is that Robert Wolff?” Father Mike asked with an answering grin.
“Raise mortal hell with the enemy’s rear lines. They’ll destroy their communication lines. Interrupt supply routes. Blow-up the mag-rail lines. Drop critical bridges. Collapse damns. Destroy fuel and ammo depots. Cut power lines and blow-up whole power planets. Snipe commanders in the open. Organize and train the local populations. They will turn those Resistance cells into real gorilla warriors.”
“That is an awful lot for just one team of Death Dealers Rob.” Father Mike said with a chuckle. “Even in my day it would take at least a company sized fireteam to pull all that off. Aren’t you placing too much on the shoulders of one seven-man team?”
“If it was just one fireteam I would say that you’re correct in your assessments Father. Only there are two fireteams on this operation.” It was my turn to chuckle. “Even then you would be right except for one thing. This is Apollo six.”
“Just what does that mean boy?” Father Mike snarled.
“Any other planet you would be right about the situation. It would take at least a full company to get the job done. But we have a long historical warrior tradition on Apollo six. It’s in our blood to not rollover for anyone. That has been the main factor behind us driving off the Cheeseheads each time they attack. They’ve never been able to pacify the indigenes population. The harder they try the fast they get their asses handed to them.”
“The question is will the locals listen to the other members of your two teams Rob. You got to remember that the Human Empire isn’t too well liked around here. Most especially the military.” Father Mike just had to go and point out my main worry for this whole damned operation. “I won’t even go into the attitude of the Unions in certain parts of this planet.”
“I certainly hope a few of the Union bosses get it into their heads to frack with my teammates.” I almost laughed at the thought of that outcome. “I got twenty gold credits that says there will be more than a few unmarked graves if they do.”
“They wouldn’t kill a Union boss for getting in their way, would they?” Father Mike couldn’t believe what I just told him. “Look I know that a few of the bosses can be a handful Rob, but every time the Cheeseheads have attacked it was the union bosses who organized the Resistance.”
“That may be true Father Mike, but they have all outlived their damn use in my book. Instead of using the loyalty they’ve won as Heroes of the Resistance to better the lives of the Union workers. Almost to the last they’ve gone out of their way to gain a better political position and raised union dues to put more cash in their pockets. And whenever someone calls them on the bullshit. They go trotting out their so-called war records. Always claiming to be some great hero of the resistance. Never owning up to the number of good men and women they got killed with their amateur tactics. They always ignore the fact that there was at least two Death Dealer Fireteams working to train and organize those fighters. You know that I know that, but the teachers’ union is ordered to ignore this uncomfortable fact of history. All because the Worker Union Bosses don’t want the rest of Apollo six to know about how many people they get killed with their games.” I fought to keep the snarl out of my voice over how the Union bosses have always gotten what they want. While people like my parents sacrificed their lives in the protection of the planet. “So, if a few of those piece of shit union bosses get killed by my teammates I won’t shed any fracking tears over of them.”
“Robert, you may not like them, but you’ll still need them to organize the union workers. Without the bosses the unions won’t get involved in the fighting.” Father Mike tried to point out the downside of killing the bosses. His face turned red when I started to chuckle. “What am I missing?”
“Father most of the Union members will fight for no other reason than to vent their anger at the Cheeseheads. They don’t need the local boss to lead them. The truth of the matter is that most view their union boss and reps as worthless blood sucking slugs. I would be hard pressed to see a lot of them NOT following one of my teammates following the death of the local boss. The main reason is by now there has been more than a few unnecessary deaths because of those same union bosses trying to pull off some great battleplan. You said that the Frontline troopers for the Cheeseheads were in the outer provinces fighting.”
“I did. Why?” He wondered.
“If they’re still using the Frontline troopers to squash the rebellion in those areas it explains something that I saw this afternoon.” While Blackjack and I were working our way towards Camp Rampage I spotted a convoy of light Infantry Support APSs, IFVs, and AI Tanks moving along Highway 1A1. “Can you tell me how often the Cheeseheads move their troops across country and by highway?”
“Like I said earlier. The Cheeseheads are bringing in new Occupation Troops every two days. The Frontline troops then move out. They never travel cross country if they can help it. Almost always by road in a staggard formation convoy. They use highways one-A-one, two-seven-six, and two-seven-five for all road traffic. The only highways they don’t use is two-A-one and three-A-one. Mostly because they were all damaged in the initial bombardments. The main reason though is the Kingston, and Fairfield have been dropped. The Cheeseheads are staying away from the mag-rail line for transferring all but the heaviest of equipment for now. Mainly because most of the freight lines needed some type of repairs. Even whole sections needed to be replaced. It seems that the Ministry of Transportation has been neglecting the freight lines. On the negative side they have been making heavy use of the passenger lines for moving Infantry, light support equipment, and other troops around the continent.” Father Mike answered me to the best of his ability.
“What about the canal systems? Are they using them at all?”
“You would think they would make use of the waterways, but for some reason they’re staying away from the canals and rivers. It’s almost as if they don’t trust their equipment and troops to them.” As Father Mike told me that I had to sigh.
“Damn. If they’re not using the waterways there’s no sense in targeting them. Why the hell aren’t they following doctrine?! It just doesn’t add up.” I ground out between my teeth. “What about communications? Are they at least using the local Network Broadcast stations to keep the propaganda flowing?”
“The local network towers were destroyed on the first day of the war. Along with the actual stations themselves. Before you ask it is the same everywhere on the planet. The Cheeseheads targeted the transmission towers directly. They used Jump Troops to plant man-pack atomic bombs at each transmission hill.” Father Mike sighed and looked in the eyes. “Robert there is no other way to say this. Some of our own people betrayed us to the Cheeseheads. There is also evidence that one or more of the Parliament members were in conclusion with the Cheeseheads.”
“Let me take a guess as to who the traitors were. First off, I would say the first, fourth, and fifth PDF divisions. Those assholes are all loyal to the last man to that worthless cocksucker Grayson Vanderbilt. Then there are the more militant militia groups like the Monarchist League Army. Those shitbirds wouldn’t think twice about turning traitor in the hopes of overthrowing the rightful government here. I could give you whole list of those types. Up next are the ones that are going to be problem for both sides of the fight. Our fellow citizens in the Great Workers’ Socialist Reform Party. That pack of yahoos will see this as a chance to bring about their Great Revolution of the People. Hopefully, they’ll only get their own people killed when the shit starts flying. Otherwise, a lot of good people are going to end up dead because of them.” I sighed and looked at the floor. “I need a fracking drink. I swear God has a hardon for me.”
“Come on Robert. Let’s head for the Club and Cuff. I’ll buy the first round. Don’t worry we’ll be safe there. That is one place in all of Goulcrest that the Brown Shirts won’t enter. I doubt anyone in their right mind would dare to try those coppers. The last bunch that screw with that crew got their heads handed to them.” Father Mike led the way back out of the basement and down the back alley towards the local cop bar. “I surprised you didn’t mention the Revolutionary Extremist Union, Free Citizens Union, or the World Community Party in your list of extremist groups Robert. Why did you leave them out?”
“Because as crazy as those worthless assholes are, they don’t have the guts to pull the trigger in actual combat. The best they’ll do is attack someone in a black alley. For all their bluster all they are, is talk. That’s why the government never took them too seriously. Unless something has changed in the last few months, I doubt they’ll ever be more than an annoying pack of assholes.”
“Then prepare yourself for some shitting news. Someone supplied them with real firepower. Those three groups are no longer just an annoying pack of assholes.” When I heard this, I knew what was coming next. “They’ve become some of the core members for the Brown Shirts. I should say the ones that survived the first attack.”
“Damn those leftist reactionary assholes. What the frack is their problem?”
“The same one that it has always been Robert.” Father Mike sighed. “Like all groups that have been ignored by their government they took the first hand that offered to help. They’re reaction was plain and simple. After years of being told they were the ones to blame for all our planets problems they could take no more. Sadly, they have reason to be angry at with our former Parliament. The fact that the Cheeseheads are using their anger as a tool oppress our people is not surprising.”
“Wait a minute here Father. You’ve lost me. Just what are you talking about?”
“Robert what do you know about the people that make up those four groups?” He asked.
“Not a lot really. What does that matter anyway?”
“For starters they’re not your normal minority groups. In fact, most of them would be considered in the majority. They’ve grown tired of being vilified by both the minorities and other progressive factions within our government. They had the voices of their Representatives silenced for too long in our Halls of Government by the more reactionary progressives. Then there was the higher and higher taxes they were forced to pay to support Social Programs that offered no real benefit to our citizens.” The more Father Mike talked about the traitors the more I realized how the situation came to a head. “The list of their grievances goes on and on Robert. When a people are left with no other choice. Violence and insurrection becomes a real option. In some cases, the only option. This was the choice that those men and women chose. In their eyes it is better to be seen as traitors to a people who have vilified them than to stand as their protectors and liberators.”
“Giving your usual sermon of ‘forgive the traitors’ Father?” I looked down the alley at the sound of Captain Wallace’s voice. “Who’s the kid?”
“Been awhile sir. I know that I have changed some, but I didn’t think you would forget my ugly mug.” I answered with a snarky chuckle.
“What the hell? Who frack is this kid Father?” Wallace demand of the man who raise me through my teen years. “And why do I have the feeling I know him somehow?”
“Because you do you overpaid flatfoot.” I snapped.
“What the frack?! Is that you Wolff? It can be.” Wallace grunted in surprise then turned to Father Mike asking. “Can it?”
“Welcome to the new and improved Robert Wolff. Combat Arms Warrant Officer for the Death Dealers.” Father Mike chuckled at my shocked expression. “You need to disable your IFF broadcast Robert. Anyone with a scanner will pick your ass up in a minute.”
I didn’t even think twice about what he suggested. ‘Celest, can you isolate and disable our IFF?’
‘Give me a second Robert. I’ve never done something like this.’ It took her a few seconds to isolate then disable our IFF broadcast. ‘Sorry about that Robert. I should have thought of disabling the IFF before now.’
‘Forget about it Celest. I should have thought of it the first day we hit dirt.’ I looked at Father Mike and something clicked in the back of my head about what he said. “You’re a damned Death Dealer. How?”
“Boy I’ve been retired for twenty-five years now. As for how the answer is simple. I’m one of the original First Gens that underwent the Second Gen upgrade. If your cousin were here, she would be kicking me in the ass for disappearing on her little ass. Not that she could. I’m still better at hand-to-hand.” Father Mike laughed. “Unless she decides to cheat as usual. Just like her grandfather.”
“Is that how you know James Owens Senior Father?”
“You finally figured it out, have you? Good about damned time.” Father Mike told me honestly. Then all of a sudden, I was receiving the IFF for Combat Arms Master Warrant Office, CAMW-5, James O’Brian, retired. It wasn’t there long but it was enough for me to seriously question my view of the world. For the life of me I couldn’t see the kind and gentle man that I knew as Father Mike with CAMW James O’Brian. It just didn’t compute. “Have I fried your AI yet? Come on I need a drink.”
It didn’t take us long to find an empty table or get a round of beers. Captain Wallace didn’t waste any time with small talk. “Okay Robert you want to tell me where the rest of your team is?”
The second he asked that question I was drawing the combat knife I had kept at my waist. “I’ll tell you Captain. But only if you want to die.”
“Look around Robert. You’re surround. The odds are ten-to-one in my favor.” Wallace harrumphed and waved at the gather cops. “Do you really think that you stand a chance against a room full of trained cops.”
“Leave Father Mike out of it and make the odds twenty-to-one. It won’t matter. The outcome will still be the same. You dead along with twenty of your men, Wallace. Trust me, the kid that left here could handle ten-to-one odds. The Death Dealer who returned can handle thirty-to-one odds and still win.” I decided to drive my point home as the knife left my hand to bury itself between the legs of Detective Sergeant Tim O’Leary 20ft away at the end of the bar. “Don’t fracking move O’Leary.”
“If I do?” O’Leary asked right before I burned away the top of his beer with one of my anti-personnel lasers. “Okay point taken.”
“I thought you would get the hint. I always knew you were smarter than you looked.” I snarked and turned my full attention on Wallace. “Shall we dance Captain?”
“Thank you but no Robert. Everyone stand down. It really is him. Pete get us another round of beers.” Wallace called to the bartender. “Alright Robert if you’re here on your own that means only one of two things. First, your team CO sent you into town to find and contact the Resistance Leaders. Second, you’re here on your own because your drop went FUBAR. Which is it?”
“Let’s just say that we’re way past FUBAR and into BOHICA, Captain. I’ve had zero contact with my team from zero hour to now. To be honest with you, I’ve basically been operating on my own for the last seven days.” I looked over at the storefront window as a D8-E8 Bearcat armor patrol car rolled by with its lightbar flashing. “How often does that happen?”
“That was just the standard patrol son. Relax it was one of ours.” Captain Wallace snickered. “Don’t worry it’s the Bearcats that are running in blackout you need to watch. If their lightbar is flashing grin, wave, and walk on by.”
“How many of your people are working a double agents?”
“Enough that if the Cheeseheads decide to hit Goulcrest with a city killer we’ll be able to get the warning out in time to evacuate. The Brown Shirts have exactly zero clue as how deep we’ve already infiltrated their organization.” Captain Wallace chuckled evilly. “You got to remember I’ve got some of the best undercover cops on all of Apollo six. Nine times out of ten we know when the Brown Shirts are going to try something ahead of time. Thanks in part to those men and women.”
“What about the regular military? What happened to our DPF units?”
“Dead or captured to the last man or woman. To be honest Robert, they never stood a chance between the firepower of the Cheeseheads and the traitors in their ranks.” Wallace grunted and downed half of his beer. “We’re still trying to figure out how the Cheeseheads got a hold of the control codes for the Orbital Defense Satellites.”
“Holy shit. This isn’t a SNAFU it’s a full-blown FUBAR shit storm. Did any of the Parliament escape? If they did where the hell are, they hiding?”
“As far as I’ve been able to dig up two of the Parliament managed to escape. That cocksucker Grayson Vanderbilt and Miss Jennifer Julian. We know that Vanderbilt is laying low somewhere in Goulcrest.” When I heard Vanderbilt had escaped, I damned near snapped. My feelings must have played across my face. Ever the true Detective Captain Wallace demanded quickly. “What is it, Robert?”
“What I’m about to tell you needs to stay with us.” The two men looked at each other and nodded their consent. “Grayson Vanderbilt is a traitor.”
“What the frack are you talking about Robert?” Wallace asked in a whisper. “Do you have proof? Because the man has been supplying the Resistance with both arms and supplies from the third day of the war.”
“Look I got my information from a reliable source. Someone who actually worked in his office before the war started. Believe me when I say Vanderbilt was working with the Cheeseheads and other antigovernment factions long before the war kicked off. The bastard was wanting to overthrow our government in hopes of setting up his own little kingdom. The bastard wanted to control more than just Apollo six. He wanted all of the Highlands System.”
“Give me a few days and we’ll find the fracker, Robert.” Wallace snarled as he pounded his fist into the table. “I just want to know what you want done with him.”
“Just secure his ass some place nice and dark for now.” Father Mike said jumping in before I could say anything. “He may be a two-faced snake, but he has resources.”
“What kind of resources are we talking about Father?” Wallace demanded for me.
“The kind that if used right will help turn the tide of this war.” He answered to my shock and Captain Wallace’s disbelief.
Aurora Station 3; Northern Lights system
Corsair Class Pirate dropship Pequod
“Are we really going to do this Captain?” The cargo master asked of his young captain. “Are we really going to drop a seven-forty core cracker for the Empire?”
“We are Mister Flask. We have our sailing orders. They come directly from the Emperor himself.” Captain Ahab answered honestly as he watched the 30ft long, 10ft across, planet killing, missile was lower onto the improvised launch cradle. “That is one big, damned harpoon Mister Flask.”
“Aye captain that she be. And in the words of our fabled ancestors. We go to hunt whales.” Mister Flask looked up at the 740 Core Cracker. “The whales we hunt are the size of planets. To that end need we a harpoon to kill planets.”
“It is a damned bloody task that we’ve be given Mister Flask. To end the lives of billions of souls should not be so easy.” Ahab snarled. “Nor should I be so easy to give the order to end that many lives.”
“Sir, either way we’re going to be killing people. If our mission shortens the war with the Cheeseheads. Then I’m all for it.” Flask sighed sagely. “I know that you never thought we would be part of a war lad.”
“It’s not that Mister Flask. I’ve always known that being called up was in the charter of our ship. There was always the possibility of the Pequod being used to smuggle arms and Special Operations troops behind enemy lines.” Ahab waved at the massive planet destroying missile. “It’s what that beast represents.”
“And what does that beast represent to you lad?” The old sailor asked of his young captain. “Be honest with yourself at least.”
“That is nothing more than a death sentence for a planet.” Ahab sighed honestly.
“We did not start this war Captain, but BY GOD! We’ll finish it.” The voice was not one that should be nowhere near the docks. The two sailors turn to face Emperor James Nakatoma. “I know that I have asked an inhuman task of you and your fellow captains, sir. Normally I wouldn’t even think of asking but you and your fellow captains are the only ones that have jumped the pirate points surrounding those planets. They called the tune for this dance.”
“And now the band must be paid. What I don’t understand is why are we killing the whole planet? Couldn’t we just blast their HQ’s, sir?” Ahab asked of his Emperor.
“Almost forty years ago a promise was made to both the Gorgonzola Empire and the Velmaro Consortium. They were warned not to interfere with our internal problems. They were warned to turn their eyes elsewhere for territorial gains. They were told a lot by my mother Maiha. Basically, the gest of that conversation was this. Leave us the frack alone and we’ll leave you alone. Don’t we’ll turn your capital planets to into radioactive dust clouds. Now we’ve kept our word and left these two nations alone. Not even the occasional boarder raid which has become acceptable between nations. This time though they have gone beyond a raid into full-blown war.” James snarled. “Only this a war of genocide.”
“Are you sure about this Sire?” Ahab whispered.
“I wish to the Gods that I was wrong, Captain. Sadly, I’m not. I got reports from planets in the Highlands System of whole villages, even small cities being decimated systematically.” Ahab and Flask both turned red at hearing this. “To do this the Cheeseheads are using chemical weapons on civilians gentlemen. They’re clearing the way for their own citizens to occupy our worlds. By killing off our citizens.”
“Tell me something Majesty. Have you told this to the other pirate Captains?” Ahab almost demanded of James.
“I have had this same conversation with every one of the captains that are carrying those monsters to their final destination.” James told the younger man with sad honestly. “Captain I do not take the ordering the use of those weapons lightly. I know that each one of those weapons represents billions of lives. But I fear the only way to end this war is to bring the Gorgonzola Empire to its knees.”
With that James turned and walked away heading for the next ship in line. Ahab turned to Flask. “We may be the ones to deliver Death’s harpoon Mister Flask, but there goes the man who shall pay the price.”
“Aye, Captain. That be the truth in more ways than one.” Flask sighed and turned to look once more at the 740 Core Cracker. “AS the old saying goes. Heavy lays the head that wears the crown.”
“Mister Flask have you ever heard of the twentieth century saying about the three most power men in the world?” Ahab asked in curiously. When his cargo master couldn’t answer Ahab, the young captain chuckled sadly. “It was said that the three most power men during the Great Cold War were the President of the United States, the General Secretary for the USSR, and the Captain of a nuclear missile attack submarine. I fear that we pirate captains have just join that elite group of world killing ship captains from history.”
“There is only one problem with that statement captain.” Flask grunted then pointed at the Core Cracker. “They never fired their missiles sir. We will.”
“Aye Mister Flask that we will. Finish seeing to the loading of our cargo.” Ahab turned and walked away ordering. “Then see me in my quarters.”
“I’ll have the specs needed for liftoff ready for you to go over sir.” Flask called out to the disappearing back of his young captain. Once he was alone Flask sighed. “That boy has come a long way from when he first came aboard four years ago. He’s just like his father in many ways.”
Goulcrest, Apollo 6, Highlands System: 2045 Day 10 of Occupation
Emperor’s Hand Safehouse, West Haccusk
After two hours Blackjack stepped out of the Synthetic skin Surface Chamber. Gone was the shiny dushiulium steel body of a cyborg. In its place stood a 5ft, 9in, red haired, green eyed, young woman in her mid-20’s, of average beauty. She naked woman stepped over to the only mirror in the basement of the safehouse. She reached out running her hand down the surface. It was done with a heavy sigh that escaped her lushes lips. “It’s been a long-time sense I last saw this face.”
“How long has it been boss?” Copperhead asked as he stepped into the basement.
“Almost three years Copperhead.” Blackjack sighed as she turned and reached into the nearby wall locker. As she pulled out a black jumpsuit Blackjack got down to business. “Give me an update Copperhead.”
“Got good news and bad news, boss.” Her XO grunted. “What do you want first?”
“Dealer’s choice Copperhead.” She said as she slipped her left leg into the pants of the jumpsuit. “Who did we lose?”
“Fea’s Viper, Sidewinder, and Two-step all bought the farm in Rockaway port. Stone Viper is the only still active agent in Blackwater. Blueskin, and Jake-Jake are KIA, while Hammerhead is in need of massive repairs. We’ve also lost Cutback and Sidestep. In short boss out of twelve members were down to just four active agents.” At the look of real human surprise Copperhead explained. “Fea’s Viper ordered a coordinated strike on the ammo dump in Dornwich. Boss they were waiting for us.”
“Do we have a traitor in our network?” Blackjack asked as she pulled up the zipper on her jumpsuit to chest height. “I need answers Copperhead.”
“Negative boss. It was all Fog of War. When the teams hit the dump there was two companies of Cheesehead Armored Infantry drawing their combat reloads. An hour either way and we would have gotten away clean. We did manage to destroy the dump despite our losses.” Copperhead could tell that Blackjack wasn’t happy with that piece of news either way. “The attack was worth it boss.”
“Why?” Blackjack demanded. “You know our SOP. No strikes on heavily guarded targets like supply, ammo, and fuel depots.”
“The ammo dump we hit held two-hundred canisters of that new chemical nerve agent.” When Blackjack heard that the new chemical weapon was a nerve agent she had to sit down. The nightmare weapon of history had returned to the battlefield. “I take it you haven’t heard that the Cheeseheads are using chemical weapons?”
“Frack no I haven’t! What the hell are they thinking?! The Emperor will have to match their use of a WMD with the same level of force! If not take it, one step further!” Blackjack turned thoughtful for a few seconds. “No. He’ll carry out the Empress Maiha’s final threat to the Cheeseheads.”
“What threat?” Copperhead asked with growing fear in his voice.
“Seven-forty Core Crackers.” Blackjack answered quietly.
“My God! He won’t!” Copperhead crocked as he dropped to the floor as he realized that Emperor James would use those planet killing weapons. “By the Gods! We have to find some way of ending this war before he unleashes those weapons boss. We’re talking about billions of lives here. Gone in hours.”
“Copperhead there is no way of stopping those ships now. They’ll have already been ordered to sail.” Blackjack knew that her words were of little comfort to her OX. “Look David, there is nothing we can do about stopping those ships. Also, that decision is why the frack above our paygrades.”
“Damn it Peter I fracking know that. What I want to know is how can you be so cool with the use of those weapons? We’ve all seen the end result of using just one of those monsters.” Copperhead’s use of her old human name almost got him gutted.
As mad as Blackjack was at the use of her old name she understood where he was coming from. “David this is your only warning. Never use that name again. Peter Longfellow is dead and buried on Hades. Like this I go by the name Carol Black.”
“Sorry about that Carol. I won’t forget.” David quickly apologized.
“Just remember. As for me being cool with the use of the seven-forties I’m not. I just can’t do anything about stopping them once the order has been given.” Carol told David honestly as she pulled on a pair of socks. As she finished dressing Carol grabbed a pair of knee-high, side zip, boots with a modest 3in heel. “Our chance at stopping the use of those weapons ended the second the Cheeseheads used the first WDM. They forced the Emperor to retaliate in force.”
“Okay boss, I get it. Our chance at stopping the war has come and gone. All we can do now is try and shorten the war as best we can.” David sighed as he stood up. “Sorry about the bitch fest.”
“What bitch fest? As far as I can tell you used your right as a soldier to voice your opinion on a fracked-up situation.” Carol chuckled as she led the way upstairs to the main house. “What can you tell me about the local resistance movement?”
“Not much Carol. I’ve tried to make contact with the possible leaders of the most likely people.” David answered with his usual professionalism.
“Let guess they laughed in your face or stuck a gun in it. Which one?” Carol asked as she looked around the living room.
“Both and in some cases laughing while pointing a gun in my face. There was one woman that actually threated me with a tomahawk.” David chuckled at the memory of that fisty old lady. He can still picture the look of murder in her eyes as she held the tactical tomahawk to his neck.
“You didn’t actually go to her?!” Carol asked in surprise. “You know that woman is the biggest man-hating lesbian on Apollo six.”
“Yeah, I know that, but she has the ear of the LGBT on this planet. She speaks and they listen. Why wouldn’t I go to her?” David asked in confusion.
“God save me from knuckled headed men!” Carol huffed as David started to laugh at the situation. “Okay bonehead enough of the chuckle fest. Though I can understand your thinking on the woman. So, any other news to report?”
“Just that my worthless fracking cousin has been supplying the locals with weapons and ammunition. All of our evidence pointing to him as being the original traitor is now worthless.” David could tell that this news wasn’t sitting well with his boss. “The cocksucker has had a full week to start his campaign to paint himself as the ‘savior’ of Apollo six. No one is buying it thanks to Jennifer Julian coming on the scene as a real leader of the people.”
“Who?” Carol asked.
“Jennifer Julian is, or I should say was the junior Parliament representative for the Ivory Lynx Timberland Province. She is one of the good ones boss. She really cares for the people she represents. Not just the Union shitheads but all of the people from her Province. Not just her district. From what I have been able to gather she is the main driving force behind organizing the Resistance planetwide.” David shrugged his shoulders. “That’s all I got on her.”
“Not surprising. One operative can only do so much.” Carol sighed looking down at the floor. “You’ve done good a job here David. I couldn’t do better.”
“Thanks boss, but I know better. You’ve been in the game longer than any other operative in the Hand. Now that you’re here we can really start hurting the frackers. I just got one question.” David gave her a reassuring grin. “Where do we start?”
“Ever heard of the Club and Cuff bar?” Carol asked.
“Who hasn’t heard of the biggest cop bar in all of Goulcrest?” David snarked.
“We need to change. Do we still have our street clothes?” Carol asked with smile.
“Everything is where you left Carol. Seeing as how we’re heading for a club full of cops. I would suggest the LBD and your best heels.” David wiggled his eyebrows.
“You just want to see me in that dress, you prev.” Carol chuckled and headed for her room in the safehouse. “But you’re a lovable prev.”
An hour later the two Intelligence Operatives were dressed for a night on the town and headed out. They were able to secure a taxi. It didn’t take them long to reach the downtown area of Lower East Xaimeed. As they exited the taxi Carol turned to David. “David just follow my led. The person were looking for can kill us both in the blink of an eye. And not care one fracking bit.”
“You make it sound like we’re here to hunt down a Death Dealer, boss.” David whispered as he thought about what it took to one of the Hand.
“Because we are, David.” Carol told him honestly. “I will tell you this much about the man we’re here to find. There is only one Death Dealer I fear more.”
“Wow this guy must be second cousin to Death’s Own Daughter for you to say that.” David said jokingly with a small laugh. He didn’t laugh for long though.
“Because he is.” Carol’s very blunt comment stopped David in his tracks. “Let’s get this over with and pray we find Warrant Office Wolff in a good mood.”
Goulcrest, Apollo 6 Highlands System: 22:30hrs, Day 10 of Occupation
Club and Cuff bar, Lower East Xaimeed
I spotted the red-haired woman the second she stepped into the bar. I could tell that she and her companion were looking for someone. I locked the targeting system for my anti-personnel laser on both. “Captain, Father, whatever happens next just stay seated. Let me handle this, please?”
“You know this couple lad?” Wallace asked with an edge in his voice.
“Nope. Not a clue.” I told him honestly. “But I can tell they’re hunting for trouble. Just look at they way their scanning the crowed.”
“Not anymore, Robert. They’re coming this way.” Father Mike warned me quietly.
I looked over and he was right. They were headed directly for us. As they walked towards us, I fixed my gaze on the woman. I could tell that this woman had spent more than a few hours at the barre of a dance studio just by the way she moved. I know that I didn’t know this woman. Yet there was something about the way she moved I’ve seen before. As she drew neared our table that something was really beginning to bug the hell out of me.
“Haven’t figured it out yet Robert?” The woman asked with a smile. “How do you like the new me? It’s amazing what a good beauty parlor can do these days.”
“Blackjack?” I asked barely above a whisper.
“See I told you he wouldn’t recognize me, David.” Blackjack giggled to her partner.
“Now Carol it’s not nice to pick on Robert. After all the last time he saw you. You were all hard angels and a total metalhead tomboy.” The stranger’s comments were all I needed to piece together Blackjack’s identity.
“Damn! Carol talk about radical changes.” I turned to Father Mike smiling. “Father Mike allow me to introduce my friend from Carol and her partner in crime David.”
“I must say young lady you clean up well. I would never have recognized you from this afternoon. Your work attire is rather unflattering.” Father Mike chuckled. “I much prefer this look over to the one I saw earlier.”
“Robert care to let a poor copper in on your little secret here?” Wallace snarled.
“Captain Wallace our guests work for my boss in Trends and Forecasts.” I hoped that Wallace would catch onto the double meanings. For once the cop was faster on the uptake than I normally gave him credit for.
“Risky business that. One wrong guess and people pay a heavy price.” Wallace sneered as he looked Carol up and down. “What brings a nice upper-class couple down here?”
“We’re down here for work matters sadly.” Carol answered as she looked at me.
“We’re all friends here young lady. You can talk openly.” Wallace assured them.
“You trust these men boss?” the man she called David asked.
“I trust Gunner over there Copperhead. If he trusts the other two that is good enough for me.” Blackjack told her partner.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence Blackjack.” I smirked. Then waved for them to take a seat across from me at the table. “Sit down and take a load off.”
“So young lady what kind of business do you need to take care of with Robert?” Leave it to Father Mike to get straight to the point. “And young lady. You may be more pleasing to the eye, but I still don’t trust you.”
“The only person that needs to trust me is Gunner, father. I could give a shit less what the rest of you think or like.” Carol told the man bluntly.
-----tbc-----
Chapter 11
Xiomen Row, Goulcrest, Apollo 6; 17:35 Day 11 of occupation
I still cannot believe that of all the places an abandoned warehouse on Xiomen Row was chosen for this meeting. Then I really shouldn’t be surprised. All of Xiomen Row was natural territory for all of the street gangs of Goulcrest. Of the twenty-two major gangs the leaders for eighteen had already arrived. I’m sure that if we held this meeting anywhere else there would have been at least six fights already. As I took a pull off my cigarette and exhaled the smoke, I mumbled to myself. “At least the fracking truce is holding for now.”
“What was that Rob?” Father Mike asked quietly.
“Just commenting on the truce, Father. Hoping like hell that it holds.” I answered honestly. “I’m not too sure about this plan of yours.”
“I agree with Gunner, Father. We’re talking about organizing street gangs that are normally at each other’s throats.” Blackjack grunted.
“Time for a history lesson you two. Back during the Third World War in the early part of twenty-first century the United States of America was invaded for only the second time in its history. There were two invading armies one from the east the other from the west. During the first two months those armies made great strides in capturing huge swaths of territory. Then during week nine of their invasion those armies found they had a major problem. There was a portion of the inner-city populations that they couldn’t subdue. No matter how hard they tried.” Father Mike jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the gathered gang leaders. “They were faced with well-armed, very determined, municipal gorilla forces that had plagued the finest police forces in the history of any nation.”
“I get it now. Why not use the one group of miscreants that even the bravest of cops think twice about fracking with. If my guess is wrong please correct me Father Mike. Between all twenty-two gangs there’s around six-fifty to seven hundred full members and another fifteen-hundred affiliated members. For a total force of around twenty-one hundred hardcore gangsters. Gangsters that know every back alley, side street, abandoned warehouse, and every other hiddie hole in this city.” I couldn’t help myself as I chuckled. “This is too good to be true. Here I’ve been trying to figure out where I was going to find recruits for a resistance force, and they’ve been right here in front of nose all along.”
“Yo! Padre when’s we’s gonna kick off this little powwow of yours?” asked the one shithead that knew was going to cause problems. Dwayne Rockman leader and number one hitter for the 24th Street Cardinal Pillagers. “We’s got places to be, and Wizard to sling.”
“For once in your worthless life shut your fracking hole Dwayne.” I snarled. When he was about to say something when Father Mike stepped in.
“Knock it off both of you. Dwayne sit down and shut up. Wolf quite trying to pick a fight with those who don’t know any better.” He ordered as he pointed to both of us. I just smirked as my name was whispered around the gathering. Father Mike continued to walk into the center of the room. He stood there and slowly turned in a circle. “That’s right people. The Ripper of Whitechapel has come home.”
“Bullshit, Father Mike. I’ve known Rob the Ripper Wolff for close to ten years.” Said the one person that I hoped would show up. The leader for the meanest sons-of-bitches in all of Goulcrest city, the Demon Pistols, Dominic Lloyd. I hide my smile behind my hand as I took a drag off my cigarette. Dominic pointed at me and snarled. “That punk ain’t the Ripper.”
“You always were a hardheaded asshole, Spider. It took me beating the shit out of your sorry ass three times to get you to leave the orphanage kids alone. The last time I broke you nose and knocked out your two front teeth.” I jumped of the crate that I was sitting on and crushed out my cigarette on the floor. I popped my knuckles then rolled my shoulders and neck. “Want go for a fourth time, buddy boy?”
“I got fifty on Spider.” Yelled the leader of the Backer Street Bombers.
“Four to one that Spider guts him in two minutes.” Jumping Jimmy Jackson from the Northern Outlaws yelled as he jumped of his crate.
“I’ll take that action for a c-note.” Bad Breath Beth leader for the only all-female gang, the Women Of The Night.
“Knock it off! Especially you Robert. You will all remember the truce!” Father Mike yelled as he gave me a friendly smile and knowing wink. “Dominic if you want to try your old dance partner do so at some other time. Just understand one thing. It’s not a normal man you face, but a fully trained Death Dealer.”
Those last two words put a bone deep chill in the atmosphere. Beth put words to everyone’s thoughts. “Hold on here, Father Mike. You telling us that trained gorilla you brought to this sit down is a Death Dealer? Come on old man. Everyone knows that the Death Dealers were wiped out on the first day of the war.”
“Those aren’t the only Death Dealers in the Empire, Beth. At last count there was over serval million Death Dealers among the Empyreal Military. That doesn’t count the ones who are retired now. A lot of us do reach retirement and go on to have careers in the civilian world.” Father Mike explained for the gathered gang leaders. He turned to look over at me. “And every year there are younger and better trained individuals joining their ranks. Some of them come from right here on Apollo six. Even this very city’s streets. The last of which came from my orphanage.”
“I still ain’t buying it, Father Mike. That joker looks nothing like Ripper.” Spider grunted as he pulled out a box of Super 8 cigars. As he placed the unlit cigar in his mouth, his second in command, T-bone reached out to lite it for him. Not thinking I snap lite my lighter and tossed it across the room. Spider grabbed it out of the air of reflex. As he lite his cigar Spider eyed me then looked down at the lighter’s case as he closed it. There on the side was a gold dagger. He looked up at me then asked in disbelief. “Ripper?”
“I told you the smell of those things will get you in trouble one of these days.” I chuckled and caught my lighter as he threw it back to me. “You ready to listen?”
“You got the floor Ripper. Any of these mooks gives you shit. They answer to the Pistols.” Spider snorted and took a drag off his cigar.
“Why should we listen to the Demon Pistols?” Jumping Jimmy demanded. “Death Dealer or not. He left your gang. Why ain’t you putting the beat down on this rat?”
“Because, Ripper was never a member of the Demon Pistols or any gang, Jimmy. You North end gangs never had to deal with him. Those of us from the Whitechapel have dealt with him. He sent more than a few of us to the hospital for crossing into the DMZ. That goes for the Demon Pistols, the Grey Vipers, the Emerald Dwarves, the Raven Skulls, and the Sapphire Devils. None of us fracked with him, and none of us wanted him in our gang.” Sherman Grant leader of the Grey Vipers told the Northern Outlaw with more than a little heat. “You want to try Ripper be my guest. He was one mean mother fracker before he became a Death Dealer. Now I’m beating he’ll just kill your punk ass and be done with it.”
“I won’t kill someone for being a dumbass Tank. I’ll just send his to the ER with several broken bones and dislocated joints.” I chuckled then looked over at the Outlaws leader. “But in his case. I’ll make an exception.”
When Jumping Jimmy started to make a move toward me I fire one of my antipersonnel lasers into the floor at his feet. Everyone in the room froze. “That was a warning. The next time. I’ll be removing your balls, Jimmy. Understand something here people. Death Dealers do not make threats. We carryout promises.”
“Chill Ripper. No need to go breaking the truce.” Beth smirked. “Like Spider said you got the floor. So, talk already.”
“For the last few days, each one of your gangs have been hitting the Brownshirt checkpoints, supply, and troop convoys, as they come through your individual territories. You’ve had moderate success in harassing them and the Cheeseheads. The problem is the Cheeseheads are going to figure out that you’re not working together. That you’re only defending your own territories. When that happens, they’re going to come down on you like ton of shit.” I paused and lit a cigarette. “I’ve only been back in town a few days and I’ve already figure this out. I admire your respect of each other’s territory during this occupation. You could have all turned on each other like rabid dogs. Instead, you have an unspoken truce in place. The same truce that brought most of you here tonight.”
“Ain’t no profit in fracking over the other gangs right now. Besides, this is our turf. Nobody is going to take that away from us.” Dale Winters of the Eastend Gamblers grunted. “Not without a fight.”
“And that’s how they’re going to take you down. One gang at a time. If you’re only worried about your own territory the Cheeseheads will pick you apart. They’ll drop two companies of Stormtroopers with Infantry support APS units into the heart of your territory and work their way out. Killing every color flying soldier in your outfits. If you want to survive this war. You’re going to have to work together. Not just in your own territories but in each other’s.” I held up my hand to stop the bitching before it started. “It’s either that or die one at a time.”
“What’re you talking about Ripper?” Spider asked for the rest.
“Neighboring gangs working together in their respected territories. I mean think about it. The Brownshirts are expecting the hatred you have for each other to keep you divided. They would never expect Northern Outlaws working with Steel Vipers or Stone Bears. There’s two main highways running through those territories. How about the Backer Street Bombers, the Twenty-fourth Street Raiders and the Tenth street Tens taking down two convoys at the same time. I don’t even want to think of the unholy terror that the Whitechapel gangs could unleash if they worked together.” As I laid out my argument I could see the wheels turning. “Think and talk about it among yourselves. Make up your own minds. I’ll be waiting over here with the lady and Father Mike. Call us when you’ve made up your mind.”
“Yeah Ripper. If we decide to go with your plan. What are you bringing to the party?” Spider asked with a grin.
“Three things. An Intelligence Expert, training in how to hit the Cheeseheads where it hurts and live.” I answered as I turned to join Father Mike and Blackjack.
“You said three things. What’s the third, Ripper?” Spider called out.
“The wrath of a highly trained, totally pissed off, Death Dealer sniper armed with the most advanced sniper rifle in the universe. One who knows every back alley, side street, dead end, and sniper’s nest in the city.” I looked back at Spider and T-bone then snarled. “A sniper with a thirst for revenge and a planet full of moving hard targets to use to vent that rage.”
“Yo, Spider was Ripper always like that? Full blown hard ass.” One of the other gang leaders asked as I joined Blackjack and Father Mike.
“Boon dog trust me on this. That was Ripper being polite. If he wanted to be a hard ass, he would have come at you with a knife.” T-bone answered for his boss. “The gangs in the Points got a saying about the man. He’ll shoot in your ass just to see if the gun was loaded. Nobody screws with the Sky Reach Orphanage because of him.”
“And the locals are cool with him being a lone wolf on their turf? You got to be kidding me, bro. No gang would allow that. I know we wouldn’t.” Boon dog said. “He would either join us or get his ass capped.”
“Of the twenty-two gangs in Goulcrest the meanest five are centered in Whitechapel. Five gangs sent their best hitters. Ripper put all five in the morg. That’s how he got his street name. He ghosted everybody we sent after him and sent back their index fingers as a warning to the rest of the gang.” Spider explained coldly. “He earned his name in a way that no banger ever could, Boon dog. The cops never couldn’t pin those hits on him. When they finally did get him, he is such a badass the judge bounced his ass off planet. Ripper is a one-man crew that was untouchable.”
“Then how did they finally catch him? I mean if he was such a badass like you say. Then there was no way he would have screwed up enough to get busted.” The gang leader grunted as he gave me the eye.
“You want to know how much of a badass, hardcore, gangster, Ripper is I’ll tell you. He would boost a delivery trunk at noon. Unload its cargo by three and be sitting down having a beer with the cops who were investigating the boosted truck that night. The man is so cool under pressure he’s a damn glacier.” Spider chuckled. “The only reason he ever went before the Hatchet was because he beat the shit out of a crocked cop.”
“Damn, that’s being a real Original Gangster. Why did you guys leave him alone after he capped your hitters? I know that a few cut off fingers wouldn’t have scared you guys.” The gang leader chuckled. “Not that it wouldn’t make me think twice.”
“A few reasons. First he was always respectful to the Whitechapel gangs. Whatever he boosted he always gave an even cut to all five gangs. Second he never dropped dimes on the guys that fracked the pooch in his territory to the coppers. If he had a problem with one of our guys he would come to us and give us a chance to handle the problem in house. Third he always kept a low profile. He made sure to keep his game under the cops’ radar. He never gave the coppers reason to look towards us. Lastly the only time he ever butted heads with us directly was when one of our guys fracked with Sky Reach Orphanage. Then all bets were off. We figured out really quick it was better to take care of the offending asshole first before he found out.” T-bone chuckled at the look of shock that crossed the faces of the gather gang leaders. “There was only ever one individual that crossed Ripper and lived to talk about it. That’s Spider. The only reason why is they respect each other and always set rules before going at each other.”
“Damn. No wonder he’s a Death Dealer. The man’s a super OG.” Boon dog grunted then looked around. “Where’s the rest of the Whitechapel’ gangs, Spider?”
“I’m here on their behalf. We parlayed and decided that it was better to send one rep for all five gangs. I got elected because the Demon Pistols control the most territory. If I had known that I was meeting with the new and improved Ripper. I would have let someone else come in my place.” Spider answered honestly.
“Why do I get the feeling that you two are friends or something?” The gang leader said as he gave the hairy eye once more.
“We’re not. I surprised he didn’t take my fracking head off when I walked in.” Spider answered honestly. “Truce or no truce. I piss off Ripper again. You all are carrying my body out of here. Pass the word Jack-Jack. We do what he says. End of story. Ripper is the one gangster that scares the shit out of all the Whitechapel gangs when he gets this way.”
“And what way is that?” Jack-Jack asked.
“Pissed off at the fracking world.” T-Bone almost shivered as he looked over at me with the others. “Only this time it’s a hundred times worse.”
“Why?” Jack-Jack asked for the other gang leaders. “What’s deferent?”
“This time he’s armed with real training and firepower.” Spider answered in a whispered tone. “He left here the badest OG in all of Whitechapel and came back a Death Dealer on a mission. Ripper is going to bring death and destruction to the Cheeseheads. We either help him or get the frack out of his way.”
“What if we don’t?” Asked Beth as she and Jumping Jimmy joined them.
“Then make your peace with your maker.” Spider told them both. “Because that man is going to kill whoever gets in his way.”
“He can try.” Jack-jack snarled then turned white as an antipersonnel fired. Burning a hole between his feet at over 50feet.
“That was your only warning Jack-Jack. You get your boys in line or face me.” I snarled as I turned away from Father Mike and Blackjack. “Unlike the Cheeseheads. I actually know where you fracking live. Taking you out will be nothing more than a warmup for what I’ll do to the Cheeseheads. Get this through your heads now. I came here to get you frackers to hang together or hang separately. Make no mistake. Working together you have half a chance of living to see the end of the war. Working on your own, your families will bury your asses.”
“Chill Ripper. If the others don’t want to follow your led, frack ‘em. The gangs of Whitechapel have your back.” Spider said as he stepped forward.
“The Northside will back your play Ripper.” Wyatt Kayhill for the northside gangs.
“Same here. The Eastend is behind you.” Beth answered for those gangs.
“The Southside is not going to be left out of this little dance. Count us in.” Steve Still called out for the southern gangs.
All that was left were the gangs from the Westend of Goulcrest. I could tell that the deciding gang leader would be Jack-Jack. “Well, punk. What’s it going to be?”
“We’ll play your game Death Dealer.” Jack-Jack snarled. “But the second this war is over your ass is mine.”
“You know something. Why wait. I got done what I wanted to. You think you can take me bring it on. I won’t even use a weapon. I’m sure you got your Ka-Bar on you. Go ahead and pull it. I won’t stop you.” I stepped into the center of the room. “But the second you do understand something boy. I’m going to shove that fracking knife so far up your ass. You’ll need a team of proctologists to get it out.”
“Jack-Jack don’t get stupid. Ripper could have done that before he left Apollo. He’s a Death Dealer now. That makes him ten to twenty times deadlier.” Spider said as he stepped out of the way. “But understand something, you pull that blade, and no one, I mean no one, will help the Crimson Knives or any of the Westend gangs.”
The knife that suddenly stuck out the front of Jack-Jack’s neck caught everyone by surprise. The person using that knife didn’t surprise me. “This shithead doesn’t speak for the Crimson Knives, Spider. Jack-Jack has been getting out of hand. The gang voted to replace him if he got stupid.”
“You their new leader Toto?” Spider asked the young man quickly.
“Nope. Just the executioner for that piece of shit.” Toto said as he sheathed his Ka-Bar. “Little Will is our new leader, but I can vouch for him. Jack-Jack may not have heard about the Ripper of Whitechapel, but I have. As have the rest of the Westend gangs. We’ll play his game, his way. When and how he wants it done.”
“Glade see that not all the members of Goulcrest’s gangs are fools.” Blackjack chuckled as she stepped up beside me. “What’s our next move Ripper?”
“I put a four-oh-eight round through the head of Grand General Zorn.” I snarled and popped my knuckles. “Time to put the fear of god in these assholes.”
“God has nothing to do with this, Robert. This is Goulcrest, The City of Ebony. A city that is filled with more ghosts that any city on Earth Prime.” Father Mike corrected me as he put his hand on my shoulder. “And the deadliest of her ghosts has returned. To wreak an unholy vengeance on those who would oppress her citizens.”
Camp Falcon, Lineberry, Eastern Rat Steppes; 16:30 Day 18 of occupation
Iceman looked out over the small freshwater lake. When he had led the team into the camp he did so for two reasons. The first was simple. The abandoned summer camp made the perfect place for the remaining members of the Fallen Angles to get some well-deserved and much needed rest. The second reason was they needed a base to operate from. That had been the original plan. That all changed last night.
He had spent Rimfire and Jukebox into Lineberry to find the local resistance leaders yesterday. Only Rimfire made it back alive from the mission. They were jumped by a roving patrol of Brownshirts 7miles outside of Lineberry. Not even the bio-armor of a Second-Generation Death Dealer can stand up to a high-power pulse rifle set to maximum. Jukebox died earlier this afternoon from a hole through the center of his torso. Not even Tigger the team’s medic could save his life. Rimfire had carried his body from the site of the firefight all the way back to the camp. They buried Jukebox just after sunrise deep in the woods surrounding the abandoned camp.
“Damn it, Gunner. Where the frack are you?” Iceman bitched to himself.
“You can’t keep beating yourself up over that shit, Iceman. We all knew the score the second we entered the drop capsules. Gunner could have refused, just like the rest of us. He climbed in, strapped down, close the lid, and let his ass get fired out the tube. He knew his chances. Just like Jukebox knew the chances of getting caught by coming back after sundown. That was his mistake, not yours.” Rimfire said as he approached the team leader form behind. “It was also my mistake. I should have argued to lay low until morning.”
“He made the call, Rimfire. He pay the price.” Iceman sighed. “But I’m the one that made the decision to send you two. I knew that Jukebox was bucking to take command. I should have sent someone else with you and held him back for a one-on-one.”
“Who could you send? Tigger was needed here to help Snow with the setup for the coms uplink. You and Free runner had maintenance to pull on the FAVs. That left just me and Jukebox for the meet and greet with the locals. Sure, if Gunner was here, he could have gone in my place. Hell, he could have gone on his own.” Rimfire snorted then sighed. “But he ain’t here. He’s spread over three quarters of acer of an ice and snow cover glacier.”
“What about those reports you brought back of a lone sniper raising hell in the Goulcrest region? You and I both know to raise that kind of a shit storm takes a sniper who is trained to operate on their own. We know that Spector is on the other side of the damned continent with the rest of the Black Saints. That leaves just two other Death Dealers that can operate like that on this rock.” Iceman stated honestly. “You and Gunner. Your ass has been with us this enter time, and we haven’t been anywhere near Goulcrest. That leaves only two options.”
“Either a member of the forty-third survived the initial attack.” Rimfire said.
“Which we know is highly unlikely.” Iceman pointed out.
“Then the meanest son-of-a-bitch on our team survived the drop and made his way home.” Rimfire grunted as he realized that CAWO-1 Robert Wolff was alive and raising hell with the Cheeseheads. “If he has why hasn’t Gunner contacted us?”
“There are only two reasons that I can think of Rimfire. First Gunner is using his knowledge of the local population and area to raise his own resistance. Second he is waging a one-man war of revenge.” Iceman chuckled. “Either of which is good for us in the long run.”
“How so?” Rimfire asked in confusion.
“Because the more hell he raises in the capital. The more troops the Cheeseheads will have to pull troops back to secure the capital. No matter what else happens they can’t let the capital become a focal point for the resistance. That report about the sniper attack on Camp Rampage has all the earmarks of Gunner’s twisted thinking. Target the APS pilots with SABO rounds, then switch ammo to HEAT rounds and start blowing shit up. Classic Gunner tactics right down to the targets.” Iceman chuckled as he thought about their friend.
“Yeah. Gunner would pull something like that. For more than one reason.” Rimfire chuckled as he thought about the man they called Gunner. “The only problem is that report said some gangbanger called Ripper is responsible for those sniper attacks. That doesn’t jive with what we know about Gunner.”
“I’m not so sure about that Rimfire. I mean think about it. Really think about how much we know about Gunner. We know he’s from Apollo six. We know that his hometown is Goulcrest. We know that he’s connected to the Owens Clan and the Royal Family somehow. We know that he’s a jail or military enlistment. After that we know jack-shit about Wolff. Whenever one of us ever asked him about his past he always avoided the question entirely or make some smartass comment.” Iceman pointed out with depressing honesty. “The life story of Robert Wolff is one of those X-Files, wrapped in a cover-up and deep-fried in paranoid conspiracy! I won’t put it past him to actually be this hardcore gangbanger called Ripper.”
“That leaves us with a problem. If it is him do we make the run to Goulcrest or do we continue with our operations here?” Rimfire asked with real curiosity.
“It all depends on what Gunner does next. If he follows doctrine his next move will be organizing the local resistance. If he does that we’ll start hearing reports of increased attacks on convoys and supply depots. If he can’t do that he’ll target someone high up in the Cheesehead military chain of command. It’s the last one that has me worried. If he hooks up with the rest of Blackjack’s cell all bets are off.” Iceman listed for the team’s acting sniper.
“Why are you worried about him and Blackjack working together boss man? Wouldn’t him working with pros be better than working on his own or civilians?” Rimfire asked in total confusion over this last option.
“Because he won’t be the one in charge. The Emperor’s Hand don’t follow the normal rules of engagement. They take unnecessary risks to nail high value targets. They think and act like spies. Not SpecOps troopers.” Iceman sighed. “They’ll use Gunner like a disposable one-shot holdout pistol. Just to nail so low-level political flunky with no real impact on the occupation.”
“Then what’s our play Iceman?” Rimfire really wanted to know what the team’s next move would be. Because it if was left up him. They would be heading for Goulcrest.
“This is one of those times we wait and see while continuing with our own mission. For now, anyway.” Iceman looked towards the cabin they were using. “Has Snow gotten the communications uplink working yet?”
“Been up for the last two hours. That’s why I’m here actually. Snow sent me out to find you and Free runner. Snow’s been able to hack into the Cheesehead Intel network. You’re not going to believe the shit he’s already pulled off their network.” Rimfire explained as he led their team leader back to the cabin.
The second they entered cabin Snow shouted at the top of his lungs in surprise. “Holy shit! Get the boss Tigger! We got hot intel! Gunner is alive!”
“I’m here Snow.” Iceman said as he entered the cabin.
“He’s alive Iceman! He made it down! No one else could have pulled off that shoot!” Snow’s excitement was barely contained as he shouted the good news.
“Hold on here Snow. First what are you talking about? We’re kind of in the dark here.” Iceman looked over at Tigger. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”
“Damn it! I told you he’s alive! He actually pulled it off. He made it down alive!” Snow exclaimed as he danced around the room like a drunken sailor on shore leave.
“He said something about hot intel and Gunner being alive. That’s all I got boss.” Tigger answered with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Snow I need for you to take a deep breath and start from the beginning.” Iceman ordered the team’s Com-Sec specialist.
“It’s Gunner! He’s alive! He made it down in one piece!” This time Snow’s excitement over what he found on the uplink spread to the rest of the team. It took Iceman ten minutes to regain control of his team. Not that he wasn’t just as excited over the news of their teammate.
“Okay take it from the top, Snow. Tell us everything.” He ordered once order was restored to his normally very professional teammates.
“Once Tigger and I got the uplink established with one of the Cheesehead Intel satellites I started digging through their reports on sabotage and ambushes. Just like they trained us to do. I kept coming across reports of these uncoordinated attacks on convoys by local gangs. Then suddenly two days ago those attacks changed. Whole convoys were being taken down in coordinated attacks by multiple gangs. Not just in the inner-city areas but attacks on the mag-rails, the airport, and several other points of interest around the city. Places where the Cheeseheads and their collaborators liked to gather. Attacks that until now had been uncoordinated. Each gang doing their own thing. I figured that there was something to these attacks and went digging further. Going over the changes in those attacks. That’s when I found the reports on sniper attacks. Boss these attacks stood out from the rest.” As Snow was going over what he had learned Tigger was going over the files he had discovered.
“Damn boss. Whoever is coordinating these attacks now, really knows their shit. Frack some of these attacks are straight out of Gunner’s playbook.” Tigger gasped. “Oh hell! This last attack has to have been planned by him. It’s the same one he used to frack up our final test scores. He is alive! Only Gunner has that kind of twisted fracked up thinking.”
“It’s more than just that Tigger. Read the reports on sniper attacks. Every last one a four-oh-eight round. Sniper nests over fifteen hundred meters away. Never the same position twice. Extremely high skill shots aimed at achieving disproportional results. Minimum ammunition expenditure, maximum chaos. The kind of shit that Gunner lived for in training. But it’s the last sniper report that you need to read. I know of only one man alive or dead that could make that shot. Combat Arms Warrant Office Robert Wolff of the Fallen Angles.” Snow shouted at the top of his lungs. “Our street rat from Goulcrest is ALIVE!”
“He’s right boss. I got the report right here. The shot was tracked back to the twelfth floor of a high-rise twenty-seven-hundred meters away. The target was Grand General Zorn in front of the Goulcrest Occupation Headquarters. It was a clean head shot through and through with a four-oh-eight SABO round. The only thing that doesn’t track as this being done by Gunner is what they found at each one of the sniper nests.” Tigger said as she turned around in the chair. “Did Gunner ever leave a signature at his nests in training?”
“I don’t know. I was never his spotter.” Iceman answered honestly before turning to the one member of the team that would know the answer. “What about it Rimfire?”
“There was this thing he used to do with his combat knife. He would scratch or carve WR on something near the nest. He did this at every nest we ever setup. I asked him about it once. He said it was just his way of remembering who he was.” Rimfire answered after a few moment of thought. “Why?”
“Because the Cheeseheads have been finding those initials tagged at every nest. Not to mention at the location for every attack for the last two days. It’s like the gangs are trying to make all of these attacks belong to just one person.” Tigger answered as she turned back to the screen of the uplink. She pulled up the file pictures that the Cheeseheads had taken of the sniper nests and ambush sites. There in living color was the spray-painted initials at every site. She turned and looked up at Rimfire. “Is this what Gunner drew?”
“That’s it. That’s what he always drew or craved. If we hadn’t already tagged him with Gunner and Spector been taken. I was going to suggest Winter Reaper or something along those lines.” Rimfire chuckled. “He really was remembering his roots.”
“What are you talking about Rimfire?” Snow asked quickly.
“Some of the reports I brought back from Lineberry were about a gangbanger from Goulcrest. They’re not just any gangbanger either. This guy is some kind of super OG banger. A real hardcore gangster. He earned the street name Whitechapel Ripper. Then one day out of nowhere this gangbanger just up and disappears off the face of Apollo six. Only to reappear in Goulcrest eight days ago. Supposedly he is the one to organize the gangs.” Rimfire explained.
“How accurate is that intel Rimfire?” Snow asked. As Free runner walked in.
“What intel? And why are you four so damned excited? The war over already?” She asked with a smile that belied her pain over Jukebox’s death.
“Gunner is a live and raising hell in Goulcrest.” Tigger told the only other female on the team. Free runner looked at the fisty redhead elf in disbelief. She then looked to Iceman, Rimfire, and Snow.
“Is she telling me the truth? This isn’t a joke? Gunner is really alive?”
“According to the reports Rimfire brought back and the Intel that Snow pulled off the Cheesehead Intel Server. Warrant Officer Robert Wolff is alive and raising unholy hell in the city of his birth. The only question now is do we go help him.” Iceman told her before looking at the rest of the team. “Not that he needs it. The man is already building a legend of his own that will rival Death’s, his Daughter’s, the Joker’s, and the Silver eyed Witch.”
“Why do you say that boss?” Tigger asked for them.
“Look at the number of sniper kills the Cheeseheads are crediting to this Ripper guy. I don’t know of any sniper that has sixty-eight kills in fifteen days. That’s more than four confirmed kills per-day. Not to mention the equipment damage. That lone will make Gunner, or I should say Ripper, a legend among the sniper community. At this rate he’s going to join the ranks of legendary snipers from history in no time. I’m talking about people like Adelbert Waldron, Vasily Zaytsev, Erwin König, Chris Kyle, Norman Hathcock, Simo Häyhä, James J. Owens, and James Bailey.” Iceman chuckled as he listed just a few of the greatest snipers in history.
“Do you really think so, boss. We all know that Gunner is one hell of a sniper. The best in his class.” Rimfire couldn’t help but point out the obvious for his team leader. “But do you really believe he’s on that level?”
“I do. There’s something about Gunner that defies explanation. There’s this fire about him when he’s backed into a corner. He is more than just a simple warrior. He’s a warrior with few equals. Robert Wolff is also a born leader and if those reports are even halfway accurate. Has organized the meanest groups of civilians on all of Apollo six.” Iceman chuckled. “Robert Wolff is Death Dealer among Death Dealers. With few equals. We are his teammates and trained in the same manner, but the truth is we are nothing more than shadows compared to him.”
“What exactly are you talking about Iceman?” Snow asked in confusion. “Gunner is a Death Dealer like the rest of us.”
“Think about it Snow. He’s doing something that extremely few Death Dealers have ever done.” Iceman slowly explained for his teammates. “He’s operating on his home planet. Those streets are his backyard. The street gangs are his playmates. The local cops are his guardians. The man has the homefield advantage in so many ways. That I can’t even begin to name them all.”
“Okay we can see that Iceman. That still doesn’t explain why Gunner hasn’t contacted us. Even with his training he’s still just one Death Dealer.” Tigger grunted.
“Tigger of all of us on this team. Who is the meanest son of a bitch that you know?” Iceman asked her with a nasty smile. “Who is the only member of this team who dared to look at the odds and said screw it? Remember what he said about being a One when you explained it for him? Don’t you get it yet? Warrant Officer Wolff has been beating the odds for so long. That the Grim Reaper has resorted to using loaded dice in the vain hope of collecting his soul.”
“Iceman do you really think Gunner is this Whitechapel Ripper?” Rimfire asked.
“Oh yeah. If there is one person in this universe that can be both our Gunner and this Whitechapel Ripper. It can only Combat Arms Warrant Officer Robert Wolff. The Street Rat from Goulcrest. The meanest, rudest, crudest, socially unacceptable, politically incorrect, hard drinking, hard fighting, son-of-bitch that has won their Imperial Blacks in the last one-hundred-years.” Iceman chuckled. “I doubt that even First High Lord of the Death Dealers Commander JJ Owens could surpass our Gunner for being the supreme asshole of assholes.”
Deerfield Forest, Apollo 6, 09:45 Day 18 of occupation
Adventure Scouts Troop 872, Howling Wolf Campgrounds
Scout Master Jacob Tanner looked at the young man standing next to the campfire. The fact that he was even here spoke volumes. Jacob looked at the seven girls and nine boys siting around the fire. They were up here earning their wilderness survival and hunting badges. Each member of his troop were armed with either bows or rifles depending on their preference. He had already warned his kids to not point a weapon at the Death Dealer. He knew they would be dead before they could even pull the trigger or lose the arrow.
In his younger years Jacob was a member of the Apollo 6, PDF 4th Light Infantry Division. The division was often called the Flintlock Mountaineer Division because of their training. Unlike most Infantry divisions the 4th trained in unconventional mountain warfare. Yet as hard as they trained no Mountaineer ever matched a Death Dealer in unconventional mountain warfare. Then again, no standard unit could match a Special Operations Death Dealer in unconventional warfare. These men and women are killers with no equals.
“Okay Sergeant, you have my attention. What do you want?” Jacob demanded.
“I understand that your troop has been hitting the Cheesehead supply convoys, sir.” The Death Dealer started off with bluntly. “You need to stop.”
“Sorry, Sergeant. That’s not going to happen. Until the Cheeseheads leave; me and my troop will hit them when and where we can. No one is going to tell us what to do.” Jacob snarled then spat on the ground. “Especially someone who works with that worthless piece of shit, Dale Winthrop.”
“Dale Winthrop is dead.” The Death Dealer stated bluntly. “My CO killed him in front of the other Resistance leaders.”
“I hope the bastard died screaming then. Still, it doesn’t change things here. Each one of these kids lost their parents when the bastards gassed Creeville four days ago. To paraphrase the words of a great prophet. We will kill until no Cheesehead breaths Apollo six air. Get in our way and we’ll end you as well.” Jacob almost snarled until he saw the CQC blades deployed by the Death Dealer. “So, do you plan on killing me and these children as well to stop us?”
“Look buddy I’m not here to fight with you.” The Death Dealer retracted his blades and sighed. “Let’s start over. You can call me Spector.”
“Alright Spector. Jacob Tanner, Adventure Scout Troop eight-seven-two Master and former member of the Apollo PDF’s Flintlock Mountaineers. We good?” Jacob asked.
“We’re good Mr. Tanner. As I said I was sent here by my boss to talk sense to you. You need to stop the attacks on the convoys.” Spector slowly explained his reason for being in their camp again.
“Like I said. We will kill until no Cheesehead breathes Apollo six air.” Jacob repeated then sighed. “You wouldn’t understand, Spector. You’re not from here.”
“That is where you’re wrong sir.” Spector said as he took a seat on a nearby rock. “I may not have grown up on Apollo six, but I did grown up on New Lancaster.”
“That’s over in the tri-corner sector.” Jacob grunted as he too sat down on a rock near the firepit. “Yah you would understand our point of view.”
“Listen I know that you and these kids want revenge for your families. Sure, you have had some success. Yet if you keep going after the convoys the way you have, you’ll end up getting yourselves killed.” Spector sighed as he could tell that his words weren’t getting through to the gathered teenagers. “Haven’t you noticed the escorting gun trucks? The Cheeseheads are placing one gun truck for very ten supply transports now. You’ve been lucky so far. The Cheeseheads are no longer letting their supply transports travel alone. Besides the gun trucks they’re sending escort flights of attack helos with each convoy now. No matter how good your luck is, it is going to run out.”
“Then what are we supposed to do? Just let them kill our families and do nothing? I would rather die killing a few Cheeseheads than let that happen.” One of the teenage girls almost yelled. She held up a Martian Firearms .308 caliber Challenger Long-rifle. The bolt action hunting rifle had a range of 1250 meters. It was deathly accurate in those 1250 meters. Only military grade sniper rifles were more accurate. Spector eyed the weapon with true professional jealousy. That’s when he spotted the hash marks carved into the stock.
“That is a lot of hate there kid. You keep holding onto it, it’ll burn you up.” He felt he needed to point out the path the girl was on.
“It keeps me warm.” She said as she ran her hand over the twenty-seven marks. “There is one for every Cheesehead I’ve killed with this rifle.”
“Kid do yourself a favor. Quite keeping count. Trust me on this.” Spector said as he stood up and walked over to stand in front of her. He placed his hand over the hash marks. “In time you won’t need the marks to remember the number of people you’ve killed. You’ll see their faces in your sleep.”
“Sounds like you speak from hard won experience Spector.” Jacob sagely asked as he took the rifle from the girl. “Tammera I told to end this.”
“Yah, you did. I ignored you.” The girl Tammera snapped as she snatched back her rifle. Tammera stood up and got in Jacob’s face. “You can do whatever this Death Dealer wants Mr. Tanner but I’m going to keep killing Cheeseheads. Even if it’s on my own. You forget I already know how to live off the land. Been doing that sense I was old enough to walk on my own.”
“Okay kid I’ll make a deal with you. If you can outshoot me with that rifle, I’ll get out of your hair. If, however I outshoot you then you quite until I can train your ass how to fight and stay alive.” Spector knew that he had the girl beat without even trying. The only person who had ever outshoot him was Gunner. He could see the fire in the girl’s eyes blaze to life at being able to shoot against a Military Sniper and show him up.
“Tammera give it up.” Tanner said quickly wanting to save his charge the humiliation at the hands of this killer. “Trust me when I say that you’re outclassed.”
“What do mean Mr. Tanner? I can outshoot everybody here.” She sneered. “Even you.”
“Tammera, let me give you some honest truth about Death Dealer Special Operations troops. They can all act as snipers even with their assault rifles. Spector here is carrying a Hellsing Arms M-seventy-one Sniper’s rifle. That weapon can reach out to over two kilometers and place five rounds inside a six-inch circle.” Jacob then leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “That is in untrained hands like yours, Tammera. He’s been trained to use that beast.”
“Fine. I won’t take him up on the challenge.” She snarled then looked Spector in the eye. “You said something about training us to fight and survive. What did you mean by that sir?”
“Simple. You kids are going to still keep killing Cheeseheads despite what the boss wants. We both know that. All’s that will get you is a bunch of people pissed off at you or dead.” Spector chuckled. “However, if you come back with me to our base. Let me and my team train you. You’ll get your chance to really hurt the Cheeseheads.”
Spector had already figured out that Tammera was the real leader of this Scout Troop. Jacob Tanner may have been the one to teach the others how to survive but it was Tammera who organized them into a fighting force. She was the one he needed to win over to his idea. He could already see the wheels turning in the girl’s eyes. She knew that being trained by a Death Dealer had its advantages. Tammera spit into her right hand and held it out. “Deal.”
After about an hour of hiking through the woods Tammera moved up to walk beside the Death Dealer. She kept eyeing the man’s rifle. Finally, she could hold the question back any longer. “Can that weapon really reach out to over two kilometers and place five rounds inside a three-inch circle?”
“Young lady with a Hellsing Arms M-seventy-one sniper’s rifle even you can do something that easy. I can reach out to twenty-six-hundred meters placing four out of five in a three-inch circle. My counterpart with the other team, Rimfire can do the same. We’re nowhere near the level of being a sniper. We underwent the same training as snipers, but with all of our hard-work the best we ever scored was as spotters. Snipers are on another level entirely kid.” Spector pointed down at Tammera’s rifle stalk. “No matter where they go, or how many bodies they stack up. Most don’t keep a physical count of their kills. Those that do use a sniper’s braid.”
“What’s a sniper’s braid?” Tammera asked.
Spector’s answer was to hold out a two lengths of paracord. They were braided in such a way that there was only 27 knots. “There’s one knot for every kill.”
“Looks like we’re even on the body count.” Tammera smirked as she looked at the braided cords. “I guess you’re not as good as you thought.”
“What makes you think this one’s mine? I made that one for you. Quite carving on that sweet little lady of yours. Show her the respect she’s earned.” Spector smirked as he pulled a second cord from his pocket. The four cords were the same length with more than twice the knots. “This one is mine.”
-----tbc-----
Captain Jack Tuner stood quietly behind his command chair. He and the crew of the pirate ship Black Pearl 3 had been on station for the last 11 days. They had used last every trick in the book to stay hidden and to avoid the Cheesehead patrols. Now all that waiting was about to come to an end. Soon they would rain down death and destruction on the Cheeseheads with righteous vengeance.
Jack looked up at the ship’s clock. It like all the other pirate ships’ clocks that were carrying 740 Core Crackers was set to match the Shinigami Ryuk. He like the other 23 pirate captains had moved slowly through the Gorgonzola Empire. They had used every pirate jump point and uninhabitable star system to reach their target planets. There were 11 targeted state capital planets in total. Each with two pirate ships waiting to drop a 740 Core Cracker. The last and most important of the 11 had the honor of having 3 pirate ships with it as their target.
This was overkill in every sense of the over. Yet all 23 captains didn't give a damn. Their home system had been the target of the Gorgonzola Empire since the time of the Great Shattering. Like all the citizens of the Highlands systems. They had been forced to remain on constant vigil. Always waiting for the next boarder raid by the Cheeseheads. Only Apollo 6 had suffered the most at their hands. Of the 23 pirate ships and crews 12 call Apollo 6 their home. As the ship’s clock ticked 2355hrs Captain Jack Tuner stepped forward to stand next the Helmsman’s controls.
He turned and faced his bridge crew clearing his throat. “Almost forty years ago Empress Maiha made a straightforward promise to both the Gorgonzola Empire and the Velmaro Consortium. They were warned not to interfere with our internal problems. They were warned to turn their eyes elsewhere for territorial gains. They were told a great deal by Empress Maiha. Basically, the gest of that conversation was this. Leave us the frack alone and we’ll leave you alone. You fracking don’t and we’ll turn your capital planets to into radioactive dust clouds. We’ve kept our word and left these two nations alone. Not even the occasional boarder raid. This time though they have gone beyond a raid into full-blown war. Now it is time to carry out the rest of that promise. They called the tune my friends.”
As Captain Jack Tuner addressed his crew he was remind of a famous pirate captain from history. “The other ships will still be looking to us, to the Black Pearl, to lead, and what will they see? Frightened bilgerats aboard a derelict ship? No, no they will see free men and freedom! And what the enemy will see, they will see the flash of our cannons, and they will hear the ringing of our swords, and they will know what we can do! By the sweat of our brow and the strength of our backs and the courage in our hearts! Gentlemen, hoist the colors.”
“HOIST THE COLORS!” Roared the crew as one. The ship’s clock clicked 2359hrs.
“Helm bring us about! Navigation lay in a course for Badus fifty-nine! Guns our target is Macway! Engineering full power to the engines! Sensors full sweep. Relay all incoming targets to Tactical! Coms raise the Black Flag!” Captain Jack yelled as he drew the saber at his side. Raising the sword above his head Jack continued to yell at the top of lungs. “Mark my words lads! Waves may crack with wicked fury against our ship's hull while ocean currents rage as the full moon rises over the sea! The time has come for some piracy!”
The Corsair Class Pirate dropship Black Pearl 3 surged forward with a speed that belied both its and cargo. On the far side of Badus 59 the pirate dropship Coral Reef raced from its own hiding place behind the second moon. The two corsair class ships raced towards the capital planet for The Black Valley State of the Gorgonzola Empire. They sudden appearance did not go unnoticed by the planet’s defenders. The six orbital defense platforms moved to intercept the pirates.
Under normal circumstances those six platforms would be more than a match against the pirates. Only these were not normal circumstances. The Black Pearl and Coral Reef were not raiding the planet. They were delivering 740 Core Crackers. While still outside of the range for the platforms weapons the two ships released their planet killing cargos. Even as the pirate ships were pulling out of their attack runs they had already opened their jump gates and were disappearing into hyperspace.
As the two massive planet killing projectiles left their homes atop the pirate ships they were igniting their primary engines. At 60ft in length and 25ft across that was a lot of mass to get moving at first. The 740 Core Crackers were as big as a twentieth century Titan 7 Intercontinental Ballistic Missile. Unlike those ancient weapons of mass destruction and terror the Core Crackers were true planet killers in their own right. This two missiles would smash their way to the very core of a planet before detonating.
The resulting explosions would stop the natural thermal reaction of the planet’s core. That would be the first reaction; the next would be the uncontrolled fusion of billions of tons of nuclear fuel that is in the heart of every planet. Slowly the pressure would build over the next few hours until the planets mantel could no longer contain it. The next thing to happen would be the earthquakes that would result from the overwhelming pressure in the core and mantel. First would be the trimmers at the 4hr mark past detonation. Then around the 6hr mark the massive 10.0 continent breakers would happen along every fault line on the planet.
Before the 8hr mark the entire planet would be covered in nothing but magma. The seas would boil away to nothing. The forests would have been burnt to ash. Cities would be swallowed whole by the unrelenting magma flows that bore down on them from the volcanos that spring to life in their midst. Before the 12hr mark the planet would have returned to its primal form, a ball of rolling boiling magma, totally devoid of all life. There would be no one around to witness the death of Badus 59. Not even the orbital defense platforms would survive the destruction of their home.
Aboard the Black Pearl 3 Captain Jack Tuner left the bridge shortly fallowing their jump into hyperspace. Only to return 10 minutes later carrying four bottles of the pirate’s drink of choice and mugs for all his flight crew. As with a sad smile he handed out full mugs of rum to his crew. Once each man or woman had a drink in their hand Jack finally filled his own mug.
“Raise your mugs and drink deeply me hardies! For tonight we dine at the Devil’s own table! We shall not be alone as we fest on the souls of our enemies! For the Flying Dutchman has come for more souls than he carry across to the other side.” With that Jack upended his mug of rum.
“Captain message from the Coral Reef.” Communication’s operator called out.
“Go ahead and read it, Lee.” Jack answered and returned to his command chair.
“Aye, sir. To Captain Turner, From Captain Morgan, In the words of Doctor Robert Oppenheimer. We have become Death. The destroyer of worlds. End of message.” As Lee finished reading he turned to his. “What is your reply Captain?”
“Send the following Lee. In the words of Harry Truman, the US president who ordered the dropping of the atomic bomb, told Colonel Paul Tibbets when they met in 1948. ‘I'm the guy who sent you. If anybody gives you a hard time about it, refer them to me.’ End of message.” Jake could tell that his crew were now feeling the emotional letdown of completing both an extremely dangerous and emotional mission. “Listen up you lot. We may have dropped that seven-forty, but the order came from Emperor James J. Nakatoma. The final responsibility for the deaths of that planet lies at his feet and the current Exalted Supreme High Chancellor. Never forget that.”
“Aye, Captain!” The crew shouted and finished off their rum. The XO passed around another few bottles of rum. “Navigation lay in a course for the Ryuk. Helm take us home. There’s still a war going people.”
After a one mug of rum the crew of the Black Pearl 3 set about the task of returning to Human Empire space. They knew that they weren’t safe yet. They all knew that they could be call on again to deliver a 740 Core Cracker.
Northern Lights System: beginning of the 1st watch.
Aft Dorsal Observation Dome, Royal Battle platform, Ryuk
James and Terresa were enjoying the peaceful quiet that breakfast brought. They knew that the war had quickly grounded to a bloody stalemate on the Gorgonzola boarder. Only in the past few days were the Empyreal Forces able to make much headway in securing their objectives. While the Gorgonzola forces had been able to land and occupy most of the planets in Highlands System board zone. They were having problems with pacifying the local populations and were unable to further their advance in Empire territory. On the other hand, their own forces’ rapid advance into the Gorgonzola Empire was beginning to slow down. For every four planets they were able to capture one planet continued to hold out against their ground forces. At this rate desperate measures were needed to break the fast forming and bloody stalemate along the length of the front.
“When will we know if Operation Hidden Maniac is successful, James?” Terresa asked as she set her coffee down. Unlike James she had more on the line. After all she was the one to plan the operation and pick the targets.
“We should hear something any moment now, love. I know that all twenty-three ships reached the objectives undetected as of twenty-three-thirty last night ship’s time.” James sighed and took out a pack of Empyreal Gold cigarettes. Like his mother Maiha, James had taken up the habit of smoking during times of extreme stress. After lighting one he hand the pack to Terresa. “Right now, I’m more concerned with Operation Bogeyman. We’ve heard from every that was dropped in the Highlands System except for the two that hit Apollo six.”
“The two Death Dealer teams. Correct me if I’m wrong but the rest were all from the Owens Clan’s Bloodline Warriors?” Terresa asked as she lite her own cigarette.
“They are but the problem lays with one Death Dealer team in particular.” James explained before taking a drag off his cigarette. Then swore as he exhaled. “Mom just had to give Apollo six to the last true heir of the Owens clan.”
“That decision was a matter of politics, James. We both know that.” Terresa chided her husband. “We both know that Lord Owens has been itching for a chance to reclaim the original home of the Owens Clan or a way to restore their honor. He would have tried to use your cousin to achieve both of those goals. With Robert Wolff on Apollo six that removes him from play in Lord Robert’s plans.”
“That maybe true love, but if my cousin gets his ass killed helping to liberate Apollo six. I fear that the Owens Bloodline Warriors will pull out of the line to avenge his death on Apollo six. Right now, those troops are needed for Operation Full Steam.” James referral to the frontal assault on the Gorgonzola Empire made Terresa cringe with real dread.
“What’s that last from that operation?” She asked before taking a drink of her coffee and puff of her cigarette. “Have the Cheeseheads changed tactics again?”
“To a point they have. With the threat of orbital bombardment of their cities the Cheeseheads have stopped using their chemical weapons. Thanks to that our forces have been able to capture the two Planetary State Systems nearest our boarder. Aziea the capital planet for L'état rouge rubis L'état fell to the fourteenth Death Dealer Battlegroup and seventh Empyreal Regular Army Group five days ago. Two days ago the capital planet of Gobos in the de l'étendue de verre bleu surrendered to twenty-first Death Dealer Battlegroup. Thanks to their valor two links in the Cheesehead chain of command have been removed.” James told his wife with real pride for those military forces. Then he sighed. “Sadly, that is not enough to cripple that chain. At least another seven or eight need to be destroyed or conquered.”
“And such is the goal of Operation Hidden Maniac. Chop of the head of the snake and the body will die. Though I do have to ask why you left San Vitruvio off the target list? One seven-forty and the war is over.” Terresa asked him as she took a drag off her cigarette. This one question had been bugging sense she first formed the operational plan for the 740 Core Crackers.
“They are a last resort target, love. Hopefully before that happens we can force the Gorgonzola Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana, their Grand War Commander, the Supreme Warlords, and Overlord Counsel to talk peace. If not then we’ll be forced to kill every last one of them. I know that we have to either conquer the Gorgonzola Empire or destroy it. I would rather conquer them.” James sighed at the look of displeasure on Terresa’s face.
“Why? Answer me that simple question James. You owe me that much.” Terresa sighed.
“Ever since the Great Shattering the Gorgonzola Empire has repeatedly attacked our nation in the hopes of taking the Highland System. During the First War of Succession four-hundred years ago they attacked our nation hoping to use the internal conflict to gain the throne. Then again almost forty years they supported Richelieu’s attempted coup the Cheeseheads backed him in return for control over the Highlands and the surrounding systems. They have been warned time again to stay on their side of the boarder. The Gorgonzola Empire has presented a constant threat to the peace and safety of our nation. I can no longer stand back and allow that threat to continue.” James snarled as he grounded out his cigarette then lite a second.
“So, this is more than just a war to punish the leaders of the Gorgonzola Empire.” Terresa sighed. “But a war of retribution for the simple reason of insuring the safety and peace of our people.”
“I’m sorry love. I know that you would have preferred a more diplomatic solution.” James began only to have Terresa snort and interrupt him.
“Diplomacy only works when both sides are willing to talk and listen, James. The Cheeseheads forced our hand. If it takes destroying the Gorgonzola Empire to ensure the future of our child.” Terresa snarled. “Then I would turn every last planet within its boarders to radioactive dust clouds.”
Before James could comment on his wife’s heated words a young Ensign from the Signal Corp rushed into the dorsal observation dome. “Sire! Urgent message from the Front.”
“What’s the message Ensign?” James snapped.
“The message reads. Knocking on Heaven’s Door! I say again! Knocking on Heaven’s Door! That is all sire.” The Ensign shouted with pride.
“BY THE GODS! THEY’VE DONE IT!” James shouted as he slammed his fist down on the table. “The head has been severed!”
“James what are you talking about?” Terresa snapped.
“That was the code phrase for total success of Operation Hidden Maniac. All eleven targets are nothing more than rolling balls of magma or plasma in orbit around their prospective suns.” James answered with real pride in the ships that carried out his orders. “We can now being Operation Wind Hammer. Ensign send the following signal to our front-line commanders. Swing the heavenly hammer of the Gods.”
“Yes sir!” The Ensign called as he saluted and ran from the observation dome.
“In five days, forty Empyreal Army Groups will spread throughout the Gorgonzola Empire. Each supported by a Naval Carrier Group.” James said as he sat back down at the breakfast table. “Soon we will be knocking on the gates to the Royal Palace for the Gorgonzola Empire, Terresa. I expect to receive a request for peace talks in the next twenty to twenty-five days.”
“And if we don’t? What then James?” Terresa asked as she felt that old itch to grab the control stick and throttles of her F/B-11A2 Claymore.
“Then we grab the Cheeseheads by the fracking throat and rip out the bloody hearts.” James snarled with deadly intent.
“Then let us pray that Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana sees the light of reason soon.” Terresa then snarled. “Better yet, let him continue to dream of conquering our nation. As we pull the very walls of Hell down around his worthless head and reduce his Capital to ruins.”
Arco dei Gavi, Capital City, San Vitruvio, Gorgonzola Empire: 1345 local time
Deep in the heart of the Imperial Place lay the War Council Chamber. Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana could not believe the way his war with the Human Empire was going. After 75 days his forces were still pinned down in the Hibernating Expanse. Three days ago, his forces in the Sapphire Skies and the Corsica region states had surrendered. The second those two System States had fallen to the Human Empire military the Overlords for those sectors; Remy Marchand and Alban Boutin, were publicly beheaded by their people. Whole planets were surrendering without a shoot being fired in defiance of the invaders.
“How? How could have everything gone so desperately wrong?” Juliana asked of the empty room. His Warlords weren’t due to give their daily reports for another 15minutes. “We had the element of surprise. We should have conquered the Hibernating Expanse and moved onto the Collared Tortoise System thirty-five days ago. Instead, we’re being forced to retreat all across the Human Empire boarder.”
The door to the War Council Chamber suddenly burst open and a Communication Expert rushed in. “Exalted One, urgent news from the outer States.”
“What has happened now?” Juliana sighed. He figured that another of the State Capital planets had surrendered to the Empire’s dogs of war.
“Sire, we have lost contact with almost every State Capital Planet. Only Sevars and Utrurn remain in contact with the Empyreal capital sire.” The young man fell to his knees at the look of rage and shock that crossed Juliana’s face. “Please sire, spare me. I am only relaying the message from Flag Colonel Norbert Lebas.”
“Get up boy! I do not kill those who carry out the orders of their superiors.” Juliana knew that wasn’t a lie. He had never killed one of his subjects carrying out the orders of their superiors. He had someone else kill them and their superiors. “Return to Flag Colonel Lebas and have him report to me directly.”
“Yes sire.” The young man bolted from the room as fast as his legs would carry him. He knew that if the Exalted Supreme High Chancellor wanted his Flag Colonel then he would not waste time. The young man was just happy because his superior would be the one to suffer their leader’s wrath and not him.
Juliana looked down at the map of his Empire. With a trembling hand he placed small marker squares with a red star over the destroyed capital planets. Those eleven red stars stood out among the field of blue stars. Though not as depressing as 57 planets now marked with green stars indicating they had been captured by the enemy.
“Sire, you wished to see me?” Flag Colonel Lebas asked as he entered the room.
“Flag Colonel Lebas I hope you have an explanation for the message I just received from your Communications Expert. How could we lose contact with eleven of our State Capital Planets? I was assured that the new FTL uplinks were not only secure but one-hundred percent reliable.” Juliana kept his voice calm and his face passive as he confronted the Flag Colonel. “Now with this in mind please explain to me exactly what that report meant.”
“Sire I can only tell you that all contact with the Capital planets has been cutoff. My electronics technicians are going every inch of our equipment. I can only place the blame on sabotage. Until I have more information that is the only explanation I can provide at this time.” Lebas answered with a deep bow from the waist praying that Juliana would accept his answer. Lebas already knew the real reason for the loss of contact with the state capital planets. A few of the capital planets had sent one final message before vanishing into a boiling cloud of superheated plasma.
“Is there some other possible reason you’re not telling me Flag Colonel?” Juliana asked almost snidely as he walked over to the side table for a fresh cup of tea. “Like maybe an attack by the Human Empire?”
“Only unconfirmed reports sir.” Lebas swallowed.
“What did the reports say Flag Colonel Lebas? Do not try to fool me again.” Juliana warned the Colonel with a snarl.
“Badus fifty-nine, Pugnadus, Ilmomia, Reolara, and Yeahiri all send the same message just before dropping off the net sire. It was a warning concerning a missile attack from outside the range of their orbital defense satellites. All eleven warning came in within seconds of each other. It is for this reason why I am led to believe this a coordinated act of sabotage, sire.” Even as he spun the lie Lebas knew that Juliana wasn’t going to buy his bullshit.
“Did those messages describe the missiles Flag Colonel?” Juliana snarled with both rage and fear filling his voice. He knew that his state capital planets were now nothing more than balls of boiling plasma orbiting their suns.
“They gave only the dimensions and color of the weapons sire. Our best calculations say that the missiles could only carry a standard thirty megaton yield. Enough to kill a major city or knock out all communications planet wide, but no more than that sire. I expect to have contact restored with those planets within the next day sire.” Lebas stuttered with real fear.
“There will be no restoration of contact with those planets Flag Colonel. There is only one type of weapon in the Human Empire’s arsenal that matches that description.” Juliana sighed heavily and set down his coffee cup before he dropped it. “Emperor James Nakatoma carried out his mother’s promise and unleashed the pirates of his nation armed with seven-forty Core Crackers.”
“Sire, please forgive me, but you must be wrong. Nakatoma maybe the ruler of the false Empire, but not even he would be barbaric enough to use planet killers.” Lebas pleaded with his Emperor. “Please give me but a few hours. I’m positive that my people can reestablish contact with the state capital planets.”
“Don’t waste your time or theirs, Flag Colonel. I had half expected the man to actually ignore his mother’s warning. How foolish of me.” Juliana sighed. “you may leave me Colonel. Do what you can to sure up our Communications with the rest of the planets and our Battle Commanders.”
“More than seventy-three billion people gone. Removed from the archives of history in less than one day.” Once he was again alone in the War Council Chamber Juliana looked down at the eleven red star markers. “With just two-hundred of those marvelous weapons I could remake the Grand Empire.”
A knock on the door drew his attention before the six Grand Warlords and the Grand War Commander entered the room. He gave them all a few minutes to get their morning coffee and take their places around the map board. He waited for them to spot the 11 red marker stars. When none of them comment on the destruction of the state capital planets Juliana slammed his fist into the table. Once he had the full attention of all six Grand Warlords, Juliana snarled. “Are you so blind to the world around you?!”
“Sire, what are you talking about? We’ve have yet to give you our morning reports.” Grand War Commander Jules Gavreau countered knowing full well that he could end up like the man he replaced. Mattaliano’s head now adorned one of the castle curtain wall spikes. That is when he spotted the 11 red stars. “BY THE GODS! HE COULDN’T! HOW IN THE HELL COULD HE HAVE REALEASED THAT MANY SHIPS FROM THE FRONT LINE?!”
“NOT ONLY DID HE CARRY OUT THE BITCH’S THREAT! HE USED HAD TO OF USED THE VERY PIRATES YOU SWORE WERE NO THREAT!” Juliana screamed at the top of his lungs.
“Sire that is impossible! All of our spies in the Human Empire’s Logistics Command report that only a Battleship or Heavy Cruiser can transport then lunch the seven-forty Core Cracker. Not even their Missile Frigates can transport a Core Cracker. There is no way a Corvette Class can even transport let alone fire one of the monsters.” War Admiral Jean-Michel Alméras countered not believing the truth of what Juliana had just told them all. He knew that his Naval Intelligence Spies couldn’t be that wrong about the capabilities of the Human Empire Corvette Class dropships. There was no way a ship that small could transport a planet killer and not be seen by the local planetary defenses.
“Then I suggest you behead your spies and get some new ones.” Juliana snarled. “Ones that can actual do their FRACKING JOBS!”
“But sire. You can see from the technical data that the Corvette Class is just too light and small. The sheer size of a seven-forty Core Cracker would throw off their performance to the point of being unable to fly.” Alméras countered. He knew he was right. That there had to be another explanation.
“YOU FOOL!” Screamed Warlord Pierre-Louis Haillet as he drew his rapier. “We have known those reports to be false for sometime now! This belief of your Navy that the Corvette as being an unworthy target has time and again has been proven to be false! How many more battleships must you sacrifice before you grasp this fact?!”
“Those reports have been proven to be nothing more than propaganda spread by the Human Empire. Just as the falsehood that their Shinigami battle platforms are superior to our own New Castle battle platforms. We have the superior Naval Force.” Alméras snarled as he drew his own rapier snarling. “To the death.”
“PUT AWAY YOUR BLADES! NO ONE DIES WITHIN THE PALACE GROUNDS UNLESS IT IS BY MY ORDER!” Juliana roared at the two Warlords. As the two men looked to their leader Juliana snarled. “Or have you forgotten my decree?”
Both men quickly put away their rapiers. They knew that only Juliana could order the death of someone inside the palace. To defy his decree was to court your own death in the most painful of tortures. In the time since Juliana had taken the throne the Gardens of Pain had gained over 200 new displays.
“War Admiral Alméras you have ten days to sure up the planetary defenses of our remaining states. Warlord Haillet I want a plan in place to restore our chain of command by the end of the week.” Juliana ordered the two men. Juliana looked to the last five men in the room. “As for the rest of you. You will find a way to recapture our lost territory and reinforce our forces in the Hibernating Expanse. Now get out of my sight you worthless wretches.”
When only Juliana and Gavreau remained, he turned to his Grand War Commander. “Well Gavreau. It is only us. What are your thoughts?”
“We have reached a fork in the road, Exalted One.” Gavreau said as he held his hand over the map board. “With the loss of the State Capitals all of our forces are effectively cutoff from our control. No matter what Haillet tries without the Military Commanders of those individual State Forces it will be impossible for us to regain control. They will not accept our orders as being lawful.”
“What are you saying Gavreau?” Juliana asked in confusion. “Why wouldn’t my orders be considered as lawful?”
“When your great grandfather set up our current system of military command. He placed a failsafe in the system. One that has until now never been broken.” Gavreau began to slowly draw lines from San Vitruvio to the State Capital planets. Then from there to each Underlord’s planet. “Your great grandfather felt that the best to defend our nation was through a centralized military command. All orders requiring the major movement of forces must be routed through the individual state capital planets. This was done to prevent the individual Overlords and Underlords from combining their state military forces in open revolt against the Crown.”
“I know this already Gavreau. Get to the point.” Juliana snarled.
“The same applies to requests for orders coming up the chain of command. Everything must travel through the lower nexus points. Without the authentication codes of those nexus points all orders are considered unlawful and to be ignored. The individual military forces of the states will not move from their planets of origin. By Empyreal Law they will resort to their primary mission of defense of their home worlds. Only a hardcopy of orders signed and sealed by your hand can override that imperative.” Gavreau slowly explained to Juliana as he rubbed out eleven of the connecting lines to the capital planets. “No nexus points, no control.”
“What if we placed a battle platform at each of the nexus points?” Juliana asked with an icy feeling of dread forming in the pit of his stomach.
“Without the correct authentication codes, it won’t matter, sire.” Gavreu sighed. “Codes that were stored in the nexus points themselves. Points that are now lost to us forever. In short sire. We are lost.”
“Why?” Juliana asked with real fear.
“Time is now against us, sire. It takes five days to travel between the Empyreal Capital and the nearest State capital. Our fastest ships can reach the farthest planet under attack in two weeks. In our drive to secure our FTL links between our military commanders and the capital we created our greatest weakness. Of all our Empyreal Military units only Grim Reaper Battle Divisions remain under our direct control. Sadly, they are all in the Hibernating Expanse. Well beyond normal channels of communication.” Gavreau sighed and gave his Emperor the news that he was dreading. “Of the four-hundred-ninety-four inhabited planets under our rule. Only fifty-six have standing militaries of more three divisions or ground troops, and two regiments of aerospace fighters. The other four-hundred-thirty-eight rely on orbital defense platforms for security and those four divisions of PDF troops.”
“Just how bad is it going to get Gavreau? Please don’t lie to me.” Juliana asked as he sat down heavily in his chair.
“Unless a miracle happens and we get truly lucky, sire. The Human Empire’s Death Dealer Battlegroups will be knocking on the palace gates in eight months.” Gavreau watched as his Emperor turned white in fear and decided to drive the point home. “If not. Then we have at most five months before we see the first Shinigami Battle Platforms overhead. Might I suggest something sire?”
“If you’re going to suggest sending an envoy to broker a peace don’t. I would rather watch our nation burn to the ground before allowing that bastard to place his ass upon the Throne of our Glorious Empire.” Juliana snarled. He grabbed a sheet of paper and began to write. When he finished Juliana looked up at Gavreau. “By Royal decree. I am here by ordering the destruction of all infrastructure to prevent its use by Human Empire forces. Copy this order and send it to each planet within the Gorgonzola Empire. Leave nothing for the enemy.”
“As you command sire.” Gavreau said as he took the order from his ruler and left the room. As he walked the halls of the palace Gavreau crumbled the paper and stuffed it into his pants pocket. “I’ll be damned if I allow a Neo order to be carried out in my lifetime. It is time for a change in leadership.”
With those words still on his lips Grand War Commander Jules Gavreau began to plan the overthrow of Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana. Only five other times in the history of the Gorgonzola Empire has a coup been attempted. All five failed in bloodbaths that drenched the palace halls. His would fail as well if not for one very important fact. Over the past three years he had slowly replace the palace guards with men loyal only to him. With the removal of his predecessor, he had been able to place men who were loyal to him in critical positions of command. As he neared the main floor of the palace Gavreau stopped and looked back down the hallway he had just traveled. “The Valkyrie shall ride once more. Only this time Freyja’s daughter will not be denied her rightful due.”
New Castle Battle Platform Galactica, The Rat Tail Nebula: middle of 3rd watch
Flag Admiral Nicholas Luca woke to the pound at his quarters’ door. “Come!”
The Ensign that entered his quarters was not who he was expecting. “Sir, we have lost contact with the capital and the forward line command.”
“WHAT?” Nicholas shouted as he bolted upright in his bed. “You better be joking Ensign Hornbeam. Because if you’re not we’re in deep shit.”
“I wish that I were sir. Commander Hathaway warned me that you would not believe me. He told me to tell you. ‘The tunnels of light have collapsed.” Hornbeam told his Admiral with real confusion.
“Son of a bitch! Ensign report back to Commander Hathaway. Inform him I’ll be joining him and the XO in the war room in twenty minutes.” Nicholas ground out between clenched teeth as Hornbeam saluted and ran from his quarters. Jumping out of bed he quickly began to dress. Looking at the clock in his room Nicholas snarled. “One of these days I’m going to get the boys and girls over in R-n-D to research the connection between third watch and the occurrence of category five shit storms.”
Twenty minutes later Nicholas, his XO Zhvikov Stepanovich, and Commander Hathaway gathered in the war room of Galactica. Hathaway was working to bring up the current strategic situation of the war. When he succeeded Hathaway began to curse up a blue streak. “BY ALL THE GODS OF HELL! THAT MOTHER FRACKING SON-OF-BITCH DID IT! THOSE WORTHLESS COCKSUCKERS WHEN AND DROPPED CORE CRACKERS ON CIVILIAN TARGETS!”
“WHAT?!” Nicholas screamed in shock. “PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS A PRANK!”
“I wish by all that is Holy and Damned that it was sir. Our nexus point I gone. Hell, the whole gad damned planet is gone sir. Here look at the feed from the system’s mil-star weather observation satellite.” A few commands later Nicholas was looking at a ball of boiling plasma where the home port of Galactica should be floating in space. “Sir that weather satellite and the mil-star communication satellites are the only things left in that solar orbital path.”
“They really did it.” Stepanovich whispered. “James Nakatoma carried out his mother’s promise from all those year ago.”
“Excuse me sir, but what are you talking about?” Hathaway asked.
“We were warned to turn our eyes away from the Human Empire by the last Empress. To leave them alone or she would turn our capital planets to radioactive dust clouds. We in the Navy have never forgotten that promise.” Nicholas answered his youngest watch commander. then he corrected himself. “I should say those of us in the active Fleets haven’t forgotten.”
“I don’t understand sir.” Hathaway said bluntly.
“There are three Admirals on the Grand Warlords Council. All three of them were appointed to the Council by our High Chancellor. None of them have ever served aboard a real ship of the line. Let alone a battle platform. They falsely believe that the Corvettes of the Human Empire are unable to carryout the promise made by Empress Maiha. They’re mistaken.” Nicholas snarled.
“Of all the ships at the Human Empire’s disposal. Their Corvette class dropships are the most versatile of them all, Hathaway. Take a firm piece of advice. When you get your own command no matter the class. If you should find yourself in a Naval battle with the Human Empire have one quarter of your guns scanning for Corvettes. If you should find your ship going up against two or more Corvettes, run.” The XO Stepanovich grunted then grinned at the look of confusion on the younger man’s face. “There is a lot they don’t teach you at the academy about Corvettes. The biggest thing they don’t teach you is this. Those little bastards fight way above their weight class and nine times out of ten. They win.”
“That make no sense sir. Surely a Gunboat is more than a match for Corvette. After all they were deigned to destroy Corvettes.” Hathaway asked of his XO.
“We would like to believe that Hathaway. It is basically true in a fair one-on-one fight between the two class of ships. The problem is Corvettes are proficient at cheating and never fight on the own. Where you see one there are always two or three that you don’t see.” Nicholas chuckled. “Those ships and their crews are mean nasty little bastards with no problems fighting dirty.”
“Something else you need to know Hathaway. In a standard Human Empire Naval Unit, they have a very unconventional organization. They always travel in a taskforce grouping. For each carrier there are two battleships, four heavy cruisers, eight light cruisers, sixteen destroyers, thirty-two frigates, sixty-four gunboats, and hundred-twenty-eight corvettes. If you haven’t figured out the math Hathaway that is a total of two-hundred-fifty-five warships. A hundred-twenty-eight that attack in swarms of eight ships per target.” Stepanovich chuckled at the younger officer fell back into his chair in utter disbelief. “Why do you think the Human Empire has been able to hold our Grand Army of Grim Reaper Battle Divisions at bay for so long Hathaway? It sure as hell has been just their Death Dealer Battlegroups holding us back. For every warship we have the Human Empyreal Navy has four. Our only advantage is in the number of battle platforms. Not that it matters anymore.”
“I don’t understand sir. Isn’t a New Castle battle platform as strong as a Shinigami battle platform?” Hathaway asked with real hope in his voice.
“I guess it’s time to bring you out of your dream, Hathaway.” Nicholas sighed. “There is an old saying among star sailors. It goes like this, ‘It takes a Shinigami to kill a Shinigami’. As powerful as the Galactica is she and her sisters are but pale shadows compared to a Shinigami. All of our battle platforms are based off the Angle and Demon class battle platform designs. Designs that we stole more than five-hundred years ago. Designs that were already a hundred years out of date.”
“Don’t go putting a lot of faith in our carriers or battleships either Hathaway. Their designs were also stolen from the Human Empire’s Navy. Just like every ship deign in our Navy. Only our ships are anywhere between seventy-five to a hundred behind the current ships deployed by the Human Empire. They’re also improving on their ship designs every year. We’re so far behind the Human Empire technology wise that it is pathetic. As powerful as Galactica is right now she is outclassed by their Texas and Hero class battleships.” Stepanovich grunted. “You need to remember something. The original New Castle was destroyed by the original battleship Texas.”
“ALL COMMAND STAFF TO THE BRIDGE! REPEAT! ALL COMMAND STAFF TO THE BRIDGE!” The blaring command over the intercom had all three officers rushing to the command deck. The next command lent wings to their feet. “RED ALERT! ALL HANDS TO BATTLE STATIONS! RED ALERT! ALL HANDS TO BATTLE STATIONS! RED ALERT!”
As Nicholas burst onto the bridge his eyes were drawn to the forward view screen. There before his very eyes was his greatest nightmare given birth in a blaze of purest white light. “BY the gods of Hell! The Demon God of Death has come for us.”
“Captain we have multiple jump signatures popping up all around us! Count is at one-sixty and climbing. With no signs of slowing down.” The Tactical Officer called out. “Sir my best guess is we’re currently facing a full Supercarrier Taskforce.”
“Oh hell! Where’s the rest of our fleet Guns?” Nicholas demanded.
“Spread throughout the nebula Captain. The nearest ships are the battleship Serpent, the battlecruiser Anastasia, the heavy cruisers Valor and Fate, destroyers Starfall and Mercenary Star, the torpedo frigate Black Sparrow, and ten Patrol/Torpedo corvettes, sir.” The Tactical Officer answered quickly. He already knew that they were so outnumbered that this was going to be a very short battle.
“Captain we have incoming traffic from the captain of the Supercarrier Dai Etsu.” The Communications officer called out from his station. “Sir you really need to take this message. I doubt we’ll get a second chance.”
“Put it on the main screen, Sparks.” Nicholas ordered then added. “And just for the record. You’re right Sparks. Especially if the captain is who I think it is.”
The main view screen flicker and the face of Admiral Danial Cosby Naval Hero of the Amazon Insurrection appeared. “Good morning Flag Admiral Luca.”
“I would like to agree with you Admiral Cosby, but we’ll have to agree to disagree. Seeing as how you have almost every gun, missile, and torpedo in your carrier group locked onto my ship.” Nicholas snorted. “Care to explain how you were able to reach this far into our territory with no noticed?”
“Not really Admiral Luca. Seeing as how you have declined to be cordial I’ll get down to business. The rest of your battlegroup has been destroyed. What you see before you is but half of the Fleet that was arrayed against the Rat Tail Nebula. The Galactica and the seventeen escort ships are all that remain of the hundred-and-twenty ships of your battlegroup. I’m prepared to offer you terms of surrender. You have thirty-minutes to decide. Understand that if you should attempt to fire on my fleet we will destroy you. Should you attempt run we will destroy you. I await your answer.” With that the connection was cut.
“Coms open a channel to all remaining Gorgonzola ships.” Nichola ordered. He knew that what he was about do would be considered as treason, but he had to save as many of his crew as he could. It would be better that they send the rest of the war as POWs then die in a useless act of defiance. When the channel was open, and all stations had report in Nicholas cleared his throat. “Gentleman we are currently in an unattainable position. We are currently cutoff from our chain of command, outnumbered and outgunned. To be blunt all we can do is either surrender or die in a fatal gesture of defiance.”
“Admiral! We have a sacred duty to the Empire. We can still drive the Human Empire dog from our space!” Shout the captain of the battlecruiser Anastasia. A sentiment that was echoed by the other captains. With the exception of the battleship Serpent.
“You’re all fools! Let me give you all a quick education on what is currently targeting your ships. Only counting those Corvettes there are two-hundred-fifty-six Mark-seventy-eight torpedoes. Counting the rest of the ships in that fleet there are over one thousand of those ship killers. If we add in that carrier’s torpedo aerospace fighters the number jumps to twelve hundred. Just one of those can destroy an Overlord class cargo dropship. Two can take down a heavy cruiser. Those battleship main guns can punch through our armor long before we get in range of our own guns. And gentlemen if you haven’t figured it our yet that is only half of their Fleet that we are facing. The rest can be here in within fifteen minutes. Admiral Luca is correct in considering surrender. We as captains have a greater duty to the crews of our ships to not waste their lives in useless gestures of defiance. Our Empire has lost the war. Only the fools in the Capital have yet to realize this fact. I for one will not waste the lives of my crew or my ship in propping up a fools dream. We surrender.” The Serpent’s captain snarled.
As the man’s passionate words sank in, the rest of the captains saw the wisdom of surrendering. One by one they gave the orders to prepare their ships for scuddling and abandoning their ships. Luca watched as the escape pods and lifeboats ejected from each of the smaller ships. Until only his ship remained. Lucas turned to his Communications Office and gave the order. “Sound abandon ship, Mister Colins.”
“Aye, aye, Captain!” Colins answered back with a sinking heart. “Attention all hands abandon ship! I say again! All hands abandon ship!”
As the crew were running for their escape pods and lifeboats Luca turned to his Chief Engineer. “Prep the engines to overload in ten minutes Mister Scott.”
“Aye, captain.” Was all the temperamental Engineering officer said. He knew that his orders would lead to the death of his ship. The only thing that soothed this ego was the fact that there were seventeen other Engineers carrying out the same order. NO sailor liked the thought of scuttling their ship. When the last of the crew and officers were safely away Scott turned to last remaining person aboard the Galactica. With a heavy sigh. “All set to send her to the bottom Admiral.”
“Thank you Chief Scott. Get to your pod.” Luca ordered the man.
“Sorry sir, but that is one order I wont be following. Not unless you plan to join me. We either both abandon our lady or we both go down with her.” Scott chuckled as Luca grunted and entered his self-destruct code at his station.
“Let’s go Scott. We got sixty seconds to join the rest of our crew.” With those words the two men ran for the last remaining escape pod.
Super Carrier Lady Dai Etsu, The Rat Tail Nebula
Four Star Fleet Admiral Danial Cosby stood stock still watching the forward view screen. Waiting for the first sign of deceit or attack by the Cheeseheads. When the first escape pods and lifeboats rocketed away from the enemy ships Cosby sighed. His bluff had worked. “Helm hold our position. Coms contact the Pathfinder and Wonderer. Inform them we have prisoners for pickup.”
“Aye, aye, Admiral!” The two stations called out before carrying out their orders.
Five minutes after he gave those orders the forward view screen was lit up by the exploding Cheesehead fleet. The biggest of those flares of light belonged to the battle platform Galactica. The Tactical Officer put the thoughts of the bridge crew into words. “My God! I hope they cleared the blast radius.”
“According to my scans sir. All escape pods and lifeboats were clear when that monster went up.” One of the sensor operators quickly told him. “A few of them may have been rocked by the shockwave. But I have life signs and emergency beacon signals from them all sir.”
“Begin search, rescue, and recovery operations, Mister Hollister. We still have a long way to go before this war is over. Coms once you receive conformation from Pathfinder and Wonderer. Contact the Lady Fuyuko and have her muster her half of the Fleet at this point.” Cosby turned and addressed the bridge crew. “Well, ladies and gentlemen we have successfully kicked off Operation Wind Hammer.”
“Admiral Cosby I have to ask. What exactly is the objective of our mission?” His XO asked as he walked over to stand next to Cosby.
“The total destruction of the Gorgonzola home fleets. Between us, the seventh, and nineth-Fleets we’ll be the hammer of the God. The fifth, sixth, tenth, and twenty-fourth Fleets are the anvil. We’re to pound the Cheesehead Navt flat until they either surrender or are destroyed.” Cosby snarled. “Personally, I hope like hell they put a fight. Because I have a bounced check that I want to return.”
“What check would that be sir?” The XO chuckled.
“The one the Cheeseheads let their alligator mouths write that their jaybird asses can’t cash.” Cosby chuckled as his bridge crew laughed.
“Does that make you the bill collector, sir?” The Helmsman called out.
“It makes us the repo crew Stark.” Cosby answered with a nasty smile. “And I plan to repo every last deign they’ve stolen from us over the last two-hundred years.”
“Nakatoma Repo Services. You call, we hull, anywhere, anytime. You need it crushed. We offer a full range of scrap yard services.” The XO wise cracked causing the rest of the crew to laugh.
-----tbc-----
Chapter 13
Day 35 of the war, Day 30 of the occupation.
Whitechapel District, Goulcrest: 1035
As I sat back in the basement of the Sky Reach Orphanage at the old card table. I knew that tomorrow morning was going to bring radical changes. I looked over at Father Mike as he studied the city map spread out across the table. I could tell by the look on his face his wasn’t happy with my plan. Hell, even Blackjack and Spider weren’t happy with my plan.
“Robert I really wish you would reconsider this plan. Let someone else take out the spaceports control tower.” Father Mike begged me one more time.
“I agree with the Padre here Ripper. I got twenty-five of the meanest sons-of-bitches in all of Goulcrest and another seventy hardcore bangers itching to earn their colors. You just give us the word, and we’ll drop that tower like a tone of brinks.” Spider almost pegged of me.
“As much as I hate to say this. I have to agree with them Ripper.” Blackjack grunted using my old street name. That’s another thing I’ve had to deal with lately. Ever since Spider used my street name at that sit down people have taken to calling me Ripper again. I busted my ass to leave that name in my past. Yet it seems the old saying about never outrunning your past is true. “For frack’s sake let one of us handle the tower. You’re the real force behind the resistance now.”
“No, I’m not Blackjack. That honor belongs to Jennifer Julian. I want it to stay that fracking way. Understand!?” I barely kept the snarl out of my voice. “The only thing I wanted to know or hear is where Grayson Vanderbilt is getting those weapons.”
“Simple that suck ass was diverting arms ships from the PDF to his butt buddies in Militias, Ripper. He paid half the gangs in Goulcrest to steal those shipments. The only ones we didn’t frack with were the ones headed for the Death Dealer bases. Anything headed for the PDF was far game.” Spider chuckled. “Not all of those shipments made it his people intact. Though the really big shit got lost completely at the docks and storage yards. Nobody knows where they went.”
“What are we talking about here Spider?” Father Mike asked him quickly.
“Shit like fast attack vehicles, multiple rocket launchers, motors, antitank guns, heavy artillery cannons, and a whole shit load of other stuff.” At Father Mike’s look of confusion Spider explained. “Got a cousin that worked down spaceport. He told me about more than one PDF shipment getting rerouted on orders from Vanderbilt or one of his lackies.”
“What about assault rifles, and light machineguns? Were the gangs able to get your hands on any of those?” Father Mike asked with real hope in his voice.
“Where do you think the we got the weapons, we’ve been using came from?” Spider chuckled. “The only weapons we don’t have are those fancy sniper rifles. Got plenty of rounds for them but nothing to fire those rounds. Four full crates.”
“What’s the caliber and type Spider?” I asked quickly. Hoping that the round he had were .408 caliber as I was down to 5 SABO and 6 HEAT. Blackjack said I might be able to get a resupply at one of the Cheesehead supply dumps. I wasn’t holding my breath on that blind hope. I really needed those rounds today.
“I can only tell what the crates say. ON the side of the crates, it says caliber four-oh-eight APFSDS, and HEAT. Each crate holds two four-hundred-round cans. One is black with yellow lettering, the other is red with black lettering. Does that help?” Spider asked as both Father Mike and Blackjack chuckled.
“Spider you just solved the resupply problem for my rifle, old buddy.” I chuckled. “Right now, we got a bigger problem. That ATC tower needs to be taken out.”
“I know someone one might be able to help with that Ripper. Though I don’t know if he’ll be willing to help us.” Spider cringed as being hit by something. “Let me correct that. He’ll help you but it’ll be best if am not there.”
“Who you talking about Spider?” Father Mike asked with a knowing smile.
“My grandfather. If there is anything to know about that spaceport. He’ll know it.” Spider grunted. “I lost count of how many weekends he drug me out to watch dropships and shuttles land or takeoff.”
“Dominic stay here with Robert and Carol. Better yet take Robert and recover those crates of ammunition. I also want you to find at least three of your best people. Ones that you can trust with your life, Dominic.” Father Mike ordered us as he stood up. “And Dominic also bring back enough assault rifles and if you have them two light to medium machineguns with enough rounds to pin down the local security. Everybody meets back here in two hours.”
It took me and Spider exactly 105 minutes to make the round trip to the Demon Pistols’ safehouse, gather the needed gang members, assault rifles, and two light machineguns. Spider also gave me something really special at the safehouse. For once I glad that the Brownshirts were in charge of policing the city. The stupid cock bits drove around with their light bars flashing. Giving us plenty of time to find hidey holes and back alleys.
In the last 20 days the gangs of Goulcrest and police have become a deadly pairing. Of all the shit to happen in this fracked-up war I never expected to see the cops and gang bangers working together. Then again when you have pros trained in anticriminal tactics working with hardened criminals you get a very unique combination. So unique that they were playing marry hell with the Brownshirts and the Cheesehead Military Supply chains. Between cops knowing how to predicted the Brownshirts’ patrol routes and the gangs knowledge of the streets. They had become an unstoppable team of diehard patriots.
We were also getting reports in from the outer Provinces of organized Resistance Cells forming. A few of those reports pointed to Death Dealers operating in some of those areas. There could only be one reason for those reports. My team along the Black Saints had made it down and were operating. Another surprise in those reports was the confirmation that there was one more survivor from the Parliament. Jacqueline Moore, Congresswomen for Lineberry.
When we reached the orphanage, I found that Father Mike had returned with more than just Spider’s grandfather. He was joined by Captain Wallace and two of his most trusted SWAT Officers. Of all the men on the SWAT teams, Lieutenants Zack Cooper and Caleb McGill were the best. They’ve been two of the driving forces behind the peace between the cops and the gangbangers. I stepped up to the two men and greeted them with a firm handshake. “Coop, Mac, what brings you out at this time of night?”
“We heard you planned on rising a little hell over at the spaceport Ripper.” Cooper wisecracked and gave the gathered gangbangers a steely glare. “Seems that our informant forgot to add that you were planning on taking along some friends.”
“What can I say? When I throw a block party everyone wants in on it.” I chuckled. Then looked over at Spider’s grandfather. “Sorry for dragging you out at this time of night Mister Lloyd. It seems that you have information that can help us in tonight’s little walk through the shadows.”
“If you’re talking about taking out the ATC Tower and most of the spaceport then you’re going to need these.” The old man said with a smile and held up a stack of rolled up papers. “These are the original plans for the spaceport.”
As Mr. Lloyd rolled out the plans I was surprised that the spaceport was laid out almost exactly to the plans. The one major deference between what was on paper and what was built were the storage tanks for the liquid chauntine. There was something else that was bugging me about the blueprints. Something that didn’t make sense. “Mister Lloyd am I reading this correctly? Does the spaceport sit two meters below ground level? That has to be a misprint.”
“That’s no misprint, youngster. The whole area had to be leveled off down to smooth bedrock. It was excavated down four meters before being built backup using two meters of blast-crete reinforced with zaxel crystal. That’s the reason they had to move the storage tanks to the other side of the port.” Lloyd explained as he ran his finger over the eight 50,000-gallon storage tanks. “See this area below the tanks? It’s a retaining wall.”
“Gramps are you saying that if we blow that wall. Those tanks will dump onto the spaceport. That would only close down the port for a few days.” Spider pointed out. “That shit maybe dropship and shuttle fuel, but it’s stable a hell. You need an actual rocket, shuttle, or dropship engine to burn it.”
“Did you forget everything I taught you about dropships and shuttles boy?” Mister Lloyd snapped and thumped Spider on the back of the head. “What is the FIRST thing that every fuel truck does before filling the tanker trailer?”
“Damned old man! You don’t need to be smacking me in the head.” Spider bitched as he rubbed the back of his head. “Everyone knows that they have to hookup the ground cable. They don’t they run the chance of blowing sky-high from.”
Spider stopped dead in his explanation as the older Lloyd grinned. “Holy shit, Gramps! You’re talking about close to four-hundred-thousand-gallons of high-grade refined liquid chauntine. An explosion of that size will drop the Silver Bluff ridge line on top of the spaceport.”
“That would be a lovely sight Dominic, but it won’t happen. That ridge line is some of the hardest black granite in the known universe.” Mister Lloyd waved his hand over the spaceport and surrounding area. “This whole area sits on the same granite. The original grading was so uneven that if they tried to lay the foundation over what was there without smoothing out the bedrock. The first-time dropship land would have caused massive cracking, if not a total collapse of the runways.”
“Wow! Is that why the spaceport is surrounded by a retaining?” Blackjack asked with real surprise. “I thought that was just there for decoration.”
“Not hardly young lady. There was not one inch of the spaceport that wasn’t taken into account during construction. The biggest concern was the placement of the liquid chauntine storage tanks.” Lloyd put his finger on the other side of the port where they were supposed to go. “They found during the test drilling that this area was little better that basement clay. Over here where they were actually built is all slate granite. Easily cleared, quarried, and terraced, but very stable.”
“Let me see if I got this right. First they had to excavated down four meters to solid base rock. Then they had to build that back up two with two meters of blast-crete reinforced with zaxel crystal. Around the edge of this they placed a two-meter-tall retaining wall. They did all this before they began construction of the actual ATC tower, terminal, hangers, storage tank yard, and other facilities. What the hell were they thinking?” Cooper asked in confusion.
“This was the only area where they could place the spaceport without endangering the city with overflights.” Lloyd chuckled at the looks of shock from his audience. “That doesn’t cover the politics that came into play.”
“I only have one question. Once we drop those tanks. How do we ignite the chauntine? If it takes an electrical charge just how big of a charge are we talking about?” I asked with real concern.
“Boy! Are you daft or what?! We have two Second-Gen Death Dealers. Don’t stand there telling me that your PPCs don’t have that kind of punch.” Lloyd grinned with such a pure nastiness that I had only seen in Drill Sergeants.
“Ah shit! Why didn’t I think of that?” I almost whined as everything about Mister Lloyd’s plan clicked into place. “Even with close to four-hundred-thousand-gallons of chauntine spread out across the spaceport it would only be an inch to inch-and-half deep at the most. The blast will go upward. Thanks to shape of the spaceport floor and the reinforced blast-crete. The only thing that could remain standing would be the retaining wall at best. The problem will be in buying someone enough time to plant the need charges at the base of the tanks then the retaining wall.”
“That’s why Captain Wallace and his boys are here.” Father Mike explained. “When I heard that Mr. Lloyd could help us with taking out the spaceport. I knew that you would jump at the chance to destroy it in the most spectacular way.”
“We’re here to provide a major distraction for our friends in the Civic Intelligence Department. Three strike teams. Three targets. Each one a prime check point along one of the three main supply routes outside of the city limits. The gangs got no problems raising hell within the city, but once they get outside their neighborhoods shit doesn’t work as well.” Captain Wallace explained as he rolled out a map over the spaceport blueprints. “Red-routes one, three, and six are all scheduled for heavy convoy traffic between zero-five-hundred and zero-eight-thirty. We hit them just as they’re setting up a zero-four-forty-five. It will throw off their traffic control schedule. The Brownshirts are good at rounding up suspected civilians.”
“But suck ass at everything else when it comes to police work. A few well-placed teargas canisters, some sting-ball grenades, throw in a healthy spray of suppression fire from our two-nineties, with pinpoint accuracy from the forty-eights, and those checkpoints collapse.” Cooper chuckled with a nasty grin.
“While we hit them you and Spider nail the fuel tanks. Unless the little lady there can give us more information on our targets.” McGill chuckled.
“The convoys need to be considered a secondary target. The convoy on Red Route three needs to be captured if possible. The four heavy lift transports that make up the main body of the convoy are carrying man portable M-thirty-two antitank laser guided missile launchers with M-twenty-eight antitank Rage Fire laser guided missiles. Those weapons can give our forces a much-needed boost in firepower. The other two are carrying mixed cargos of liquid tri-lox and field rations.” Blackjack rattled off then scratched her chin. “If Cooper and McGill can hit the two convoys on routes one, and six while they’re close enough to the checkpoints. My people with a little help from the local gang can capture the convoy on three.”
“Take J-bone with you. I’ll call ahead and have the Wolverine Syndicate meet you on the far side of Infinity Bridge. When you reach their territory talk with either Coyote or Foxfire. Tell them your wanting to hijack those four heavy cargo lifts. Of all the crews in Goulcrest they’re best at jacking loads in transits.” Spider told her honestly. “If either of them gives you any shit. Remind them of the truce. Especially that asshole Coyote.”
“Sure. Just like dealing with every other politician I’ve dealt with over the years. Only at least with your friends I don’t have to worry about count my fingers after I shake their hands.” Blackjack snarked with a friendly grin and thumped the young gangbanger J-bone on the back. “Honest thieves are a better class of people all-round. Time to have some fun J-bone. Don’t worry stick around me and Copperhead long enough we’ll make a proper sneaky bastard of you.”
“Trust me, J-bone. Listen to the lady. If anybody knows about being a sneaky rotten bastard. It’s Blackjack.” Father Mike chuckled then turned to Carol. “Get a move on little lady. You don’t have all night. Don’t worry. We’ll be right behind you.”
Blackjack tossed us a friendly salute then grabbed J-bone and disappeared into the early morning hours of the night. Father Mike looked over at Captain Wallace and his men. “You know what to do Captain. Take you boys and get going. You got three and half hours to get into place. Spider take your people and go with them. Act as their guides through the territories.”
“We’re gone. Spider let’s go. Time is wasting.” Captain Wallace ordered the gang leader. When Spider went to argue his grandfather just glare and he shut up. As the gangbangers and cops left the basement Father Mike turned to me deploying his bio-armor. It took me a second to recognize the black, white, and gray tiger stripe camouflage color scheme. I should say it took Celest a second to recognize it.
“A Black Tiger from The Queen’s Second Commando Regiment. Why am I not surprised?” I sighed and engaged my bio-armor. I chuckled at the look that crossed CAMW James O’Brian’s face. “Yeah, I never thought I would be accepted into the First Special Operations Group either, Master Chief.”
“You and your team must have impressed the frack out of the higher ups kid. Then again I always knew that you would go far once you got off this rock.” Father Mike said as he pulled a set of storage lockers away from the back wall of the basement. On the other side was a hidden arms room. I watched as he brought out fourteen gray shoulder bags. I knew exactly what they were just from the shape and color. Satchel charges, ten pounds of plastic explosives, each. “I hope that’s C-four, or Semtax.”
“Let’s just say that you don’t want to be near these babies when the blow.” Father Mike chuckled and handed me seven of the charges. I took the time to read the warning on the last bag. I wish I hadn’t.
“Where the hell did you get your hands on Hand-Axe-seventy? This shit is over thirty years old. Is it even fracking stable?” I asked with trembling hands.
“Don’t ask questions that you don’t want answered, Robert.” Father Mike chuckled. “As for it being stable. It’s a hell of a lot more stable than an Omega/Assault class Death Dealer AI.”
I think I was just insulted.Celeste bitched as I chuckled. You going to take that?
‘Yes you were, and it fits. You are unstable.’ Told her only to get a huff of indignation from my AI. My chuckle must have peaked Father Mike’s attention. “I take it that I just pissed of your AI?”
“Yup. She got a little indignant over being called unstable for some reason.” I chuckled right along with Father Mike. As I slung the satchel charges over my shoulders I gave the older Death Dealer a nasty grin. “We got four hours before the others start raising hell. Do you think we can make it in time?”
“At full run using the blue-line tunnel to Sliver Bluff Park one-hour-forty-minutes. Then working back down the side of the mountain fifty-minutes. Another twenty-minutes to place the charges against the tanks. With thirty-minutes to set the needed charges against the retaining wall. Four hours on the dot.” He rattled off.
“Cutting it close. What if we take the green-line tunnel? It’ll cutdown our transit time by ten minutes.” I offered.
“No good. Too many stops along the green-line tunnel. The blue-line is a direct shot with no stops other than Sliver Bluff Park.” Father Mike said as he closed the door to the hidden arms room. “Besides, we need to come down on the far side of the tank yard. The green-line tunnel ends on the wrong side of the spaceport.”
“Tell me something Father Mike.” I started only to be stopped by the older man.
“I left that name, and life behind the moment I deployed my bio-armor Ripper. In truth I left that all behind me the day the Cheeseheads started this war.” Father Mike snarled. “A man of the cloth has no place on the battlefield. They’ve taken far too much from me and my flock. Back in the day my team called me Stalker.”
“Short for Night Stalker.” I grinned as we exited the basement. “I take it that you had never planned on letting anyone know about that arms room or you being a Second-Gen. You can still back out. I can get the job done on my own.”
“We both know that is a crock of bullshit Ripper. Let’s not bullshit ourselves here. This mission has a fifty-fifty chance of going totally sideways with both of us. On your own the chances of survival are one-in-twenty at best.” Stalker sighed. “Look Ripper. I’ve been planning most of this strike for the last twelve years. I know exactly how to hit that storage tank yard. I’ve waited for this chance to repay your parents and you. I should have been the one to die that day.”
“Hold on Stalker. What went down that day was no one’s fault. It was nothing more than a bad luck draw. My parents got dealt a shitty hand. They played the cards they were dealt and cashed out.” I stopped then sighed as I looked down at my feet. “Look I’ve spent the last twelve years running from the truth. These last few weeks have proven that to me. I was a kid blaming all the wrong people with a massive chip on the shoulder. One that took a DI to knock off.”
“You weren’t that bad, Robert. Misguided at times sure, but you were always a good kid.” Father Mike interrupted me kindly. “Though I always knew that you would end up wearing the uniform of a Death Dealer. You were just too damned twisted to stay an ass in the grass grunt.”
“Okay enough stroking of the egos Stalker. Let’s get this show on the road.” I snarked and headed for the underground tunnels. Of all the tunnels under the city only one ever gave me the creeps. It just had to be the one tunnel we were about to use. The Phoenix Subway Rail Route or blue-line 25 miles long from end-to-end. A subway tunnel that cost 25 million credits and 25 lives to build. In the first two months a subway train wreck cost the lives of 31 passengers. It wasn’t the only wreck on the blue-line during the first year of operation for the blue-line. Over the first 12 months there were three more wrecks and another 19 lives.
That damned tunnel had enough ghosts to bug out even Celest. Not that I believe in ghosts. It’s just that there are certain things that defy scientific explanation. There are things in that fracking tunnel that fall into that category. As we entered the tunnel Stalker stopped and sprinkled something on the ground then said a prayer. He turned to me with a grin. “No need in pissing off the ghosts.”
I just chuckled and followed him deeper into the tunnel. We pushed our enhanced bodies to their limits. Between the distance and extra 140lbs of unstable Hand-Axe explosives we were close to our limits. I knew that if the other hastily formed teams began their attacks before we were ready. Our mission to destroy the spaceport would turn into a fracking suicide mission. The only good thing about the occupation was all subway trains were shutdown after sundown. This time that precaution would come back to bight the Cheeseheads and their collaborative friends in the ass.
We exited the blue-line tunnel’s service entrance just below Sliver Bluff Park. It didn’t take us as long as Father Mike estimated to reach the mountain side of the security wall surrounding the storage tank yard. As we were going over the top of the wall the sounds of explosions could be heard coming from four points around town. Celeste gave me a quick update on what was happening.
‘Captain Wallace, his men, and members from the surrounding gang territories have engaged the Cheeseheads at all 3 checkpoints, Robert. The convoy traveling through the Wolverine Syndicate’s territory has been hit by Agent Blackjack, her people, and 10 members of the Wolverine Syndicate. From the radio reports that I have been able highjack the Red route 3 convoy is now in our control.’
‘Thanks, Celeste. Keep an ear on those radio transmissions. I got a feeling that they’re not out of the woods yet.’ I ordered her as I dropped to the ground ten feet below me. ‘Can you patch me into Blackjack’s frequency?’
‘Negative. The Emperor’s Hand use a highly encrypted frequency. Only they have the key. I’m sorry I can’t be of more use, Robert.’
‘Forget that shit Celeste. Just keep track of the Cheeseheads and their response. If they start moving troops to intercept that captured convoy let me know.’ I turned to look for Father Mike only to find him getting ready to place the satchel charge. During our run through the tunnel, we split up the job of placing the charges. While he placed the charges that would rupture the tanks. I would take care of the security and retaining wall nearest the port.
Without a thought I ran for the wall and leaped to the top. Once I was over I started placing the first of my six 20lbs. charges. I set them in a V pattern going up the wall. Starting four feet from the ground going upward. With the last two charges I placed twenty feet apart at the base of the security wall. As I set them I activated the remote detonators and keyed them to the same frequency.
With my charges set I jumped to the top of the wall and dropped over the edge. After finding Father Mike placing the final charge. “Are you sure that the chauntine won’t blow when we set off the charges?”
“That’s why I’ve placed the charges five feet from the tank walls. The force of the blast will cave in the side facing the spaceport. Without the security wall all of this will dump out into the manmade basin.” Father Mike told me with a nasty smile. “Trust me Ripper. The plan will work. Just remember we need to be at our max range.”
“Right. If not we become a pair of crispy critters.” I had Celeste calculate how far up the slope we needed to be safe and still ignite the chauntine. I didn’t like the result she arrived at. “Shit. We’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t.”
“We just need to reach the Hallmark outcropping.” At my look of confusion Father Mike chuckled. “Like I said. I’ve been planning this strike for a long time.”
We dropped to the ground and headed for the Hallmark outcropping. The granite rock outcropping in question was just inside the maximum range of our PPCs. As we dropped behind the outer edge I triggered the satchel charges. The retaining wall charges were the first to blow. As the wall crumbled outward onto the basin. The first two storage tank charges detonated. Just as Father Mike predicted the tank walls caved inward under the blast force. The chauntine poured out onto the spaceport basin. With each explosion the tide of fuel grew. At first it would have taken the ground crew four to five days to cleanup the spill. By the last explosion there was an inch of the deadly chemical spread the whole basin.
“Ready?” Was all Father Mike asked of me as he deployed the PPC in his left arm. With nothing more than a hope and pray I deployed my own PPC. I targeted the center of the primary runway. Father Mike, I should say Stalker began a countdown. “On the count of three. Three, two, one.”
We both fired at the same time. As the charged particles reached out like frozen ropes of pure electrical plasma to touch the chauntine. The liquid boiled, then flashed, turning to pure fire. The fireball that engulfed the spaceport turned dropships to scrape, shuttles to melted piles of metal, and shuttles to nothingness. The terminal and ATC tower fell over under the pressure of the blast, turning to twist piles of smashed concrete and steel. The maintenance hangers collapsed inward from the heat generated by the burning fuel. The shockwave rolled up the side of the mountain knocking me and Father Mike on our asses. Along with knocking over any tree that wasn’t two feet in diameter. The heat and shock wave washed out my combat sensors. I knew that it would take Celeste a while to bring them back online.
“Son of a bitch!” I stammered out as I stagged to my feet. “What the hell happened to my combat sensors?! Nothing has ever knocked them offline before.”
“You’ve never had more than four-hundred-thousand-gallons of rocket fuel blowup your face before.” Father Mike chuckled bluntly. “Give your AI a few seconds to compensate for the shockwave. My AI has been through something like this before.”
“When?” I asked.
“More than thirty-years ago, in a valley that was little better than a death trap. That valley became a target for over flight bombardment by half the Midnight Fleet.” The more Father Mike talked about the Battle for the Eastern Continent of Seth. The more I wanted to shit gold bricks. Of the Death Dealers that survived the battle there were so few of them left. “Took most of us thirty minutes to get our sensors back online. It was the death and destruction I saw in those trenches that had me looking for answers outside of the military.”
‘Robert I have our combat sensors back online. We need to move now! We got an enemy patrol incoming. Five clicks out and closing fast. One platoon of Armored Infantry with a full lance of Med APS. I’m marking one LU-six Lust, one CH-nine Challenger and two B-two-TZ Blitz. There are three more platoons Mounted Infantry two clicks behind them in H-N1 Bayonet Armored Personal Carriers.’
‘Oh shit! Not fracking good! That’s more than a reinforced patrol.’ I turned to Father Mike. Only to see the same look in his eyes. “GO! I’ll handle the incoming Cheeseheads, Father Mike. It’s time to introduce the Cheeseheads to the man behind the ghost that has been hunting them.”
“Hold on here Ripper. We can clear the area long before they get here.”
“One of those AP Suits is a Lust Stalker. The second we move from they’ll be all over our asses. One of us has to distract them. We both know that the treaty between the cops and the gangs is holding because of you. Both sides know I’ll pound on them if they get out of line. YOU they respect. ME they fear.” I told him and got set to make my run on the incoming Cheeseheads.
“Hit the Blitz’s first. Their weak point is the joint between the waist and chest plate armor. It’s not an easy shot and can only be taken from point blank.” Father Mike went on to explain about the weak point for the other two models. “The fastest way to take down the Lust is to set off the autocannon in the right shoulder. Your problem child will be the Challenger. It may be a fifty-five-ton APS, but it’s armored as well as a Heavy. The only weak point at the back of the neck. Just below the head where it joints the neck.”
“Thanks for the advice. Now get ready to run. The Resistance needs its Soul.” With nothing more than a second glance I took off like a bat out of hell. Without the 140lbs of unstable explosives I was able to reach my full 105MPH cursing speed in no time. Celeste guided me to the first of the two 45t Blitz’s. Just like Stalker suggested I came in under the massive war machine. As I passed between its legs I targeted the joint between the chest plate and waist. My 20mm PPC burned through the joint under a second. It cored deep into the internal structure of the APS. I wasn’t expecting the blast that fallowed. I must have hit and ignited the storage tank for the Blitz’s Hellfire flamethrower.
Death by fire is not the way I want to die, but when it comes to the enemy. Frack them and the horse they rode in on. As I kicked up onto my feet I was greeted by the first of the Armored Infantry or as we called them THUGS. At 3meters tall these men were the Cheesehead equivalent to our Land Warrior Infantry. The deference is the Cheeseheads were a cheap knockoffs at best. With only half the armor, a third of the firepower, and nowhere near the performance of a Land Warrior Suit.
“WELCOME TO THE RIPPER’S PLAYGROUND MOTHER FRACKERS!” I scream as I plunged my left arm CQC blades into the chest of the man. The Cheesehead spit up blood as his lungs were pierced covering the inside of his faceplate. As I ripped my arm downward the man’s chest I overrode the radio frequency for the Cheeseheads. I don’t know what the reason was, but I started singing at the top of my lungs.
“Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste. I've been around for a long, long years. Stole million man's soul and faith.” I kicked off the ground and leaped to the back of the Lust. I scrambled to the top of the arm shoulder and fired my PPL down through the armor joint. I knew that once I hit the autocannon rounds this bitch would tear itself apart. I hit my jump jets as I felt the first 150mm round explode out the chest.
“And I was 'round when Jesus Christ had his moment of doubt and pain. Made damn sure that Pilate washed his hands and sealed his fate. Pleased to meet you. Hope you guess my name. But what's puzzling you, is the nature of my game.” I sang as I hit the ground and headed for the largest group of THUGS. I was firing my PPC and PPL at random angles trying to force them the keep their heads down.
Not that it worked. The six-man team opened fire with .45 Cal long gatling guns mounted on the underside of their right arms. Against a normal Infantry unit, they would have been deadly. All it did was to piss me off even more. I barely dodged a burst from the Challenger’s Heavy Pulse Plasma Laser. If I had been two meters to the right I would have been dead. I sent a blast from my PPC his way to keep the bastard honest while I dealt with the THUGS. Still, I keep on singing. I wanted to drive the Cheeseheads crazy before killing them.
“I stuck around St. Petersburg. When I saw it was a time for a change. Killed the Tsar and his ministers. Anastasia screamed in vain. I rode a tank, Held a general's rank. When the blitzkrieg raged, and the bodies stank.”
For the first time sense testing I used the full power of my enhanced. I grabbed the first THUG by the head and pulled. I tore his head away from his body along with the helmet I had a hold of. As his teammates stood there in disbelieving shock I drove my fists through the chest plates of two. Killing them both as I smash their hearts. Not thinking I grabbed a fourth by his arm to throw him into his teammate only to rip the arm off. I kept moving and drove my CQC blades through the face plates of the next two men. With all six men dead or dying I turned and hit my jump jets. I had to kill that Challenger now.
“I watched with glee. While your kings and queens fought for ten decades. For the gods they made. I shouted out. Who killed the Kennedys? When after all. It was you and me.” I sang out as I landed on the Challenger’s left arm. Once again I was scrambling up the side of a pissed off 55-ton war machine. This monster had only one weak point and that was where I was heading. As I reached the neck I was peppered with .45 caliber rounds. I looked down and spotted the asshole shooting me. I was surprised that the THUG whose arm I tore off was the one shooting me. I needed his futile attempt to stop me. My PPL burned through his helmet and head.
“Just as every cop is a criminal and all the sinners saints. As heads is tails. Just call me Lucifer. 'Cause I'm in need of some restraint. So, if you meet me. Have some courtesy. Have some sympathy, and some taste. Use all your well-learned politeness or I'll lay your soul to waste, mm yeah.” As I sang out these words I jammed my PPC and PPL into the weak point Father Mike told me about and fired.
I must have set them to rapid fire without thinking. Because no sooner had they recharged they were firing again and again. When the cockpit exploded upwards, and the Challenger’s pilot ejected I tracked his trajectory. Once he hit the apex. I fire my antipersonnel lasers in my right arm. I killed the bastard while he was still in the air and didn’t care.
I dropped to the ground and headed for the last APS in the area. I was flipped by a nearby explosion as I landed. That was when the COBRA OS kicked in. Before I was this controlled, trained killer. That person was gone. In his place was an unstoppable, uncaring, nightmare from lost battlefields of the Empire. I killed the Blitz before it even had a chance to target me. The last of the THUGS fell to my Close Quarters Combat blades. When the last of them died I headed for the six H-N1 Bayonet Armored Personal Carriers. They never saw me coming.
As the last H-N1 exploded from a direct hit by my PPC the COBRA OS disengaged. I fell to my knees in exhaustion. ‘Talk to me Celeste. Are we clear?’
'We’re clear Robert. Now get up and get the frack out of here before their friends show up. We got a twenty-minute window.’
‘Give me a second Celeste. I’ve never felt so drained before. What the FRACK happened back there? I’ve never lost control like that.’ I took a deep breath and tried to center myself. Then looked at the clock on my HUD. ‘Holy shit! Did I really lose it for over twenty minutes?’
‘Yup sure did kid. By the way. We now know what happens when the COBRA OS kicks in on its own. Do me a favor, Robert. Let’s not do that again. I don’t like not being in control of our combat systems.’
‘You don’t like it?! How do you think I feel?! Though I can understand what Maiha meant about the COBRA being an uncontrollable ‘blood rage’. It felt like I could kill and kill. It didn’t matter who they were. Friend or foe. That wasn’t me.’
‘Now you know why the COBRA OS was feared by the original Death Dealers. Also, why they were never told which personnel were implanted with the program. Their own people were often called upon to destroy the Secondary-Configurations at the end of the battle. Just so they would have surviving members of their units.’
‘Shit. I knew that the program was dangerous. Just not the extent.’ I staggered to my feet and looked towards Silver Bluff park. I took a few minutes more before I was back to feeling myself again. ‘Time to pick up the speed. Any word on our unexpected party guests, Celeste?’
‘None so far. From what I can tell they’re busy trying to recover the lost convoy. Good news on that front. Our friends have escaped. They should be reaching the warehouse district in ten minutes.’
‘They should be fine. The crew that jacked that load are dome of the best. They know how to make a cargo shipment disappear into the city.’ I chuckled to myself as I neared the Sliver Bluff subway entrance. Then I spotted a familiar face. “Shouldn’t you be back at the orphanage by now?”
“Had a little run in with two platoons of THUGS. They were waiting for us Ripper. We have a traitor in our group.” Father Mike coughed then spat some blood on the ground. “Not as spray as I used to be.”
I raced over and caught him as he sagged. I could tell that he was wounded but not where. “How did this happen? I thought our armor could stop damned near anything.”
“Bullets, lasers, shrapnel, near miss from a PPC, but a powered kick to the ribs from a three-meter-tall THUG will break ribs. The bastard caught me by surprise.” Father Mike coughed and spat up some more blood. Celeste ran a medical diagnostic scan over the on older Death Dealer. I didn’t like what I was seeing. He was suffering from three broken ribs, a punctured lung, ruptured kidney, and bruised liver. “By now your AI has given you the bad news, boy. I got thirty minutes at most. Do me a favor? Get me back to my orphanage. I want to die where I did the greatest good in my life.”
I knew that moving Father Mike would be deadly but left him over my shoulder. I used every last ounce of strength I had left and carried the man that had become as close to me as my real father. He had guided me through the troubled years of my youth. Made sure I knew right from wrong. He was the one who taught me how to use the skills I learned as a kid to help and protect the smaller kids of the orphanage. How to keep the gangbangers of Whitechapel in line. When, where, and what delivery trucks to hijack. Like he always told me. He’s a Priest not a Saint.
We reached the orphanage with no time to spare. As I set him down in the basement. I knew that he wasn’t long for this world. His bio-armor was already breaking down. In a matter of minutes, the second most powerful influence in my life would die. There wasn’t a damned thing I could do to stop it. With half lidded eyes Father Mike, CAMW-05, Combat Arms Master Warrant Officer, James O’Brian looked up into my own. “It has been an honor serving once last time with a fellow Death Dealer.”
“The honor has been mine, Master Warrant. When you get to the River Styx spit in the bastard’s eye for me.” I closed the old Death Dealer’s eyes one last time. “I’ll be sure to send you some company.”
For the first time since I was a child tears fell from my eyes. Through teeth clenched in burning rage. “I’ll find the traitor Stalker. When I do. I’ll make sure they fracking pay with their very life.”
To drive my point, I drove my armored fist into the basement wall crushing the concrete under the impact. “I shall ring the Bells of Hell with their bones.”
-----tbc-----
Chapter 14
Planet Hades, Death Gates System
Joan Eunice Smith School for Young Ladies, 1230 local time: day 30 of the war
“I’m going to strangle those three girls!” The scream of frustration that came from behind the closed office door for the Heads of the History Citizenship and Moral Conduct Department brought a chuckle from the two Hellhound Guards. One handed the other a ten-credit note. Once again they knew that the nieces of the Dowager Empress had gotten the better of their Aunt.
“Calm down Maiha. What did they do this time?” Alice asked with a heavy sigh.
“I give them a simple assignment. Ten pages on the impact of revolution in politics throughout history. They could have choose any revolution they wanted. I placed no restrictions on that condition. The only conditions I placed were page length that it should be in the Harvard-Anglia reference style with all footnotes and reference materials listed along with a table of contents.” Maiha sighed then threw the three papers on Alice’s desk. “And this is what they turn in.”
“The counter, counter, counterculture anti revolution of the twenty-first century. The Leftists Conspiracy of Conservative Repression in the early twenty-twenties. Extreme responses to Freedom of Speech through the use of censorship and propaganda.” Alice set two of the papers down and began to read. The paper started off in a serious tone but soon turned satirical in nature. It wasn’t long before Alice had to fight to hold in her laughter. Looking at the cover page Alice saw that this one written by her niece Wami. The youngest of the Nakatoma triple threat as they were called. “Okay love. I’ll give it to you. This is going a bit too far.”
“Damn the them. When will they take their studies serious.” Maiha snarled and drove her fist into the nearest wall. Without even thinking about the school rules Maiha pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lite one up. Alice would normally jump down Maiha’s throat over her smoking but let it go. Alice saw the signs in her lovely wife. The only outward sign of stress that Maiha ever showed though was smoking. For the last fifty days Maiha had gone through a pack a day. Alice sighed and held up the three satirical papers written by their nieces. “You know they did this as a way to make you laugh at something love.”
“I don’t care! I gave them an assignment as their teacher! They should be paying attention to their damned studies! Instead of trying to get me to laugh at their antics! In that classroom I’m their teacher! NOT THEIR AUNT!” Maiha scream and punched the wall again in frustration. “When will they see the see the deference?”
“They know the deference, love. Usually, they respect that deference. They also see and know something that our other students don’t. They look up at the front of the classroom and see the Dowager Empress. The living legend that is Maiha Nakatoma, First High Lady of the Death Dealers, Death’s Own Daughter. The second most feared Death Dealer to ever walk the battlefield right behind James J. Owens senior. A person that only a vary small few have matched in their accomplishments.” Alice sighed and hugged her wife. “They also see the one warrior in all the Empire that deserves to be on the front line sitting back doing nothing. Why haven’t you ignored our son’s order to sit this one out?”
“And just where would you have me go? With what troops? The James J. Owens and her Battlegroup are part of the advance on the Gorgonzola Empire. I can’t take Hades’ PDF and leave the planet defenseless. As powerful as the Hellhounds are they’re no match for an invasion and occupation force. We’re talking about taking on no less than ten heavy armored divisions, ten mixed divisions, and twenty light armor divisions. I won’t hit something like that unless I had a full Death Dealer Battlegroup under my command.” Maiha grunted as Dee De did the calculations.
“Do what you have always done in times like this. Improvise, adapt, overcome, and when that doesn’t work. Unleash the war dogs of hell.” Alice quirked.
“You still haven’t answered the one burning question. Where am I going to find the troops to retake a planet? I would need at least twenty-two divisions of a similar mix and the dropships to move them. Not to mention a Carrier Battlegroup to punch a hole through the blockade.” Maiha pointed glumly. “Love I need a Death Dealer Battlegroup at the minimum to retake Apollo six.”
“You don’t need a Death Dealer Battlegroup child.” Both women turned at the sound of their mother’s voice as she entered their office. “You only need troops loyal to House Nakatoma and a healthy bank account.”
“Okay mom what are you talking about?” Maiha asked in exasperation.
“Mercenaries, Maiha. How often had the High Families used them as security forces? What do you think would happen if you sent out word that you were gathering a military force to retake Apollo six?” Dai Etsu asked with a wicked smile.
“I don’t know. Maybe five or six Regiments would form up at most. Not enough to retake the planet. It would be futile gesture in defiance.” Maiha answered honestly.
Dai Etsu sighed as she glided across the floor to stand in front of the window. As she looked outward Dai Etsu slowly raise her hand pointing in the of Fiddler’s Green. “Do you really think that after such a short time. The mercenaries of the Human Empire have forgotten what you did for their fallen brothers on Hades?”
“What are you talking about mother? Mercenaries are not regular military troops.” Maiha figured that she was on firm ground.
“Have you ever heard the story of the Wild Geese and their last stand?” Dai Etsu asked Maiha with a sly smile. Dai Etsu knew full well that Maiha had heard of the famous mercenary unit from Earth’s ancient past. They went by many nicknames. The Lost Legion, the Last Battalion, the Devil’s Bastards, the Dogs of War, and so many more but they were all the same unit. Made of up professional soldiers looking to ply their trade in a world of harsh political realities.
“An easier question would be to ask who hasn’t heard of the Wild Geese and their last stand.” Maiha and Alice both chuckled at her answer.
“Call them child. Every last mercenary across our Empire will rise to your banner. Not your son’s, or mine, but yours. Yours and yours alone.” Dai Etsu explained as she turned away from the window. “Because you honor their dead along side the dead of Death Dealers. Fiddler’s Green is unlike any other Military Cemetery within the Empire. It honors all those who have given the full measure for our freedom.”
“I hate to say this Maiha, but mom is right. You let the mercs know that you’re gathering an army to retake Apollo six. For every one that can’t come six will. As for transport. There will be at least one Raider class dropship and one Cruiser or Destroyer class pirate ship for escort.” Alice pointed out before Dee De could give Maiha the numbers. “I won’t go into the sheer number of Corvette class pirate ships that will flood the area for a chance to kick the Cheeseheads in the nuts.”
The sounds of a QM62 Fortress Command Vehicle rolling to a stop in front of the school drew Maiha and Alice’s attention. “We have tarried long enough. It is time for this family to give our nephew a hand in this war. You’re not the only one who has access to a Military Force. I do believe that at last headcount the Mountain Wolves Regiment equaled two full Divisions.”
“What the hell? How did that happen? I’ve keep an eye on the troop levels for all our House Units. No way could the Mountain Wolves reach that level.” Maiha countered.
“Like you Maiha. I was careful and sneaky.” Dai Etsu snickered. “For the last three decades I have slowly built them into a PDF worthy of House Nakatoma and their Head of House. They may not be Death Dealers, but they’ll give as good as they get in a fight. Unlike you your son, you have more than one naval force to call on. The Howling Wolves of Hades stand by for our use.”
“Thank you Dai Etsu. I’ll head for the spaceport now. Do you mind covering my classes while I’m gone? I shouldn’t be more than six to seven months. Not with the way that James is steamrolling the Cheeseheads. I know that dropping the Core Crackers didn’t sit well with you, but it has led to the collapse of their Chain of command. The regular Cheesehead PDF troops are surrendering in mass.”
“WE will be headed for the spaceport, Maiha.” Dai Etsu ordered her oldest child as a knock sound on their office door. The door open to show Fuyuko, Nanami and Nanase. Behind them stood the imposing figure of Reverend Mother Katsumi. “Are the Wave Dancers load aboard the Morning Mist children?”
“Loaded and waiting our arrival mother. Snow Mountain Warrior was grumbling about being transported by Scalawag MRV. I think his words were somewhere along the line of being undignifiedly strapped down on his back like Gulliver.” Fuyuko giggled showing that in many ways there were times she was still a young woman despite being in her early forties. “I think he’s getting a little senile in his old age mother. I actually had to access the ancient archives to get the reference.”
“HOLD ON! Nobody said anything about you joining me in this stupid half-assed run to Apollo six.” Maiha started only to be stopped mid rant by a glare from Dai Etsu. After close to forty years Maiha the look her adoptive mother was giving her. With a deep bow from the waist. “Of course, mother. Shall we head for the port?”
After arranging for their Royal Bodyguards to cover their classes the Dowager couple head for the spaceport. Within an hour of liftoff Maiha had sent out an FTL message to every mercenary unit within the Human Empire. It was a simple offer of employee that most intelligent individuals would turn down.
Seeking adventure? Used to watch your friends die in new and interesting ways? What travel to far flung distant planets, willing to meet new exotic people and kill them? Then join Empress Maiha Nakatoma in her bid to retake the Highlands system from the Cheeseheads. Spend your days and nights in combat and unfathomable danger. All for truly low pay and shitty food. If you should return alive you’ll receive honor and glory. Good luck and may the Goddess guide you.
Oort Cloud, Outer edge Highlands System. Day 37 of the war.
Command deck Morning Mist
Captain Toju Saza looked out the forward viewscreen of his command deck in amazement. Gathered there before his eyes were over 120 ships. A quarter of them were Raider class dropships. Each holding at least one full mercenary Regiment. The greatest contingent belonging to the Mountain Wolves. He could only shack his head in wonder.
“By the Gods of War! Only Death’s own Daughter could make a smart-ass joke of gruesomely dying in battle and have half the current mercenary Regiments in the Empire come running. All more than willing to lay down their lives for her.” The dropship Captain chuckled as his XO turned to him. “You sent the message Number One. Did you really expect to see this many mercenary regiments?”
“Well, no actually. At best I expected us to be the only fools to answer Empress Maiha’s call to arms. I mean she is known for taking on impossible no-win situations. Usually with unpredictable results. For the enemy.” The XO snarked as he waved the text for the message her had sent just a few days earlier. “But not even you could have expected this type of reaction!”
“Aye you do have a point. Then again the woman is known for her twisted mind and turn of phrase. We have honor to uphold.” Captain Saza looked out at the gather mercenary dropships. “They have coin purses.”
“Very deep coin purses Captain.” His XO chuckled as he thought about the cost of operating a Raider class dropship. Then the XO looked at the listing for the pirate ships. It was a mixed bag of warships. With 10 Kirov class Cruisers, as their heavy hitters. Just below them were the 15 Arleigh Burke class Destroyers. The rest of the attack fleet was made up of Corvette and small Corsair class ships. Even with the addition of those 65 ships the attacking fleet would be outnumber by two to one. With no way of evening the odds. Then again their only mission was to punch a hole through the blockade. Not destroy it. That would be left to the First Death Dealer Battlegroup. Which everyone knew was on its way to Apollo 6. “Sir, do you think the Emperor and Empress will arrive to save his mothers and aunts?”
“Of all the things in this universe that can be counted to come Empress Maiha’s aid. It’s that bloody nightmare monster from another time. The Royal Battle Platform Ryuk will destroy the stars to reach her. That Cheesehead fleet out there is on borrowed time. When Ryuk and the Midnight Fleet arrive, they’ll smash that blockade to ashes while the unholy hordes of their Ground Combat Divisions rampage across that planet.” Captain Saza chuckled evilly.
As if summon by his words Maiha entered the bridge. “Is all in readiness Captain?”
“All ships have been given their orders Empress. The destroyers and cruisers will target that Cheesehead battle platform. While the corvettes, and corsairs will occupy their carriers, and battleships. I know that we’re sending rabbits to fight wolves, but it is all we have your Majesty.” Captain Saza sighed wishing that he had at least one battleship to take on the Cheesehead battle platform.
“Fear not, Captain. By the time we reach the inner solar system. More well arrive to my daughter’s call to arms. The Pirates of the Golden Corridor have earned their deadly reputations. I have a feeling that one captain and his crew will join us by the time we reach the seventh planet.” Dai Etsu told him as she entered the bridge deck. “When they do. I doubt even that Gorgonzola Battle Platform will stay.”
“The only things those monsters fear Lady Dai Etsu. Are Shinigami Battle Platforms, Texas or Hero Class Battleships, and our Supercarriers. Well, I take that back. There’s one group of pirate ships they fear above all.” Captain Saza told her as her turned to face the forward viewscreen of his flight deck. “Thank the Goddess that man and his ship left our star ways many years ago. If they show up for this battle. The Cheeseheads won’t be the only ones looking for the nearest jump point out of this system.”
“And should his daughter and her ship join him?” Dai Etsu asked wickedly.
“I won’t need to find a jump point.” Captain Saza grunted coarsely. “Because my ass will be forming one as we speak.”
“Then I let us hope your crew are braver than their captain.” Maiha snarked.
“Doubt that Empress. There’s good reason to fear that Captain, his daughter, and their ships. The daughter is bad enough in a fight. Throw in her father. Well, all bets are off and there is no telling who he’ll turn his guns on.” Captain Saza grunted honestly. “With the exception of his daughter.”
“Then the Kurihara family are still raising hell among the stars?” Dai Etsu asked.
“Right behind the Kato family. Pray that Blaster Ririka doesn’t show up with them. On either of their ships. That woman would throw a cat into a show just to see what insanity it would cause.” The XO groaned as he thought about the first family of Space Pirates in this sector of Human Space. “I don’t know who has the bigger loose screw in that family. The father, the mother, or their daughter.”
“Be that as they may be Number One. Still let’s just hope that they do. Because we’ll need their firepower before this Empyreal visit is over.” Captain Saza grunted looking out at their meager fleet. “Send the signal.”
“Captain you and your people will be compensated.” Maiha told him with sadness in her voice. “I fear that not all of them will return.”
“It’s their choice. That is the power of a pirate, Empress.” The XO chuckled with pride. “All the pirates in this part of the Empire have Letters of Marque. Most of the time they act as fast heavy armed merchantmen, exploration ships, fast curriers for diplomats. They take the spacefaring jobs that require a little extra firepower and speed to that regular merchantmen lack to get the job done.”
“And so, the legal space pirate was born. It is a sad commentary on our Nation that we must employ such measures to ensure the safety of merchantmen.” Maiha sighed. “If only the Hall of Lords, and Parliament would allow a larger military budget.”
“Throughout history nations have employed mercenaries your Majesty. Part of that has been the use of Legal Pirates to secure shipping lanes. Armed and armored ships disguised as ordinary merchant vessels.” The XO said with pride as he turned to face the Dowager Empress. “Pirates holding a Letter of Marque are a long noble tradition. Regular Navies throughout history have relied on them to bolster their forces in times of war and to act as security forces in times of peace.”
“They don’t have to be out there, Empress. They’re out there exercising their rights as legal pirates. Jut as they have been from the first day of this war.” Captain Saza explained as they all looked out toward the gathered fleet of pirate ships. “Until now they’ve been making hit and runs. Today they’ll be ramming a fist down the throats of the Cheeseheads.”
“I do have a question to ask sir. Why have you assembled the fleet this far out in the Highlands system?” Dai Etsu asked him.
“Three reasons Lady Dai Etsu. First to give the rest of the Golden Corridor pirates to gather. Second a slow approach will give us an element of surprise. They’ll believe that we’re just another meteorite cloud moving across the system. Lastly to allow His Majesty, Emperor James to answer his mother’s call.” He chuckled at the cross look he got from Maiha. “You’ll have to forgive me Empress, but if you think I’m going to keep this from your son and his wife. You’ve lost your mind.”
“Sir, incoming message from Apollo six. It’s in a code I’ve never seen before.” The Communications Officer called out.
“Bring it here, Mister Webb.” Captain Saza ordered. Once he had the message in his hand Saza frowned. “Damn. It’s one of those Intelligence codes the pirates have been picking up for the last month. Pass it onto the Ministry, Mister Webb.”
“Let me see that Captain.” Maiha ordered. Not knowing what else to do Saza handed it over. Maiha took one look at the message, and she knew who had sent it. When she started to laugh everyone on the bridge crew looked to the Dowager Empress in confusion. “There are times when old friends can be both entertaining and frustrating at the same time. I suggest you contact the rest of the fleet captain. It seems that the gangs of Goulcrest are throwing a party for the Cheeseheads. A party that I plan on crashing.”
Overlooking Red Route 5, Deerfield Forest, Apollo 6
Scout Troop 872 were spread out along the upper ridgeline of what Spector was calling Red Route 5. To them it was Casey Road and the main supply route for the Brownshirts in Drogdalk. The county seat for Deerfield county. Their target was the early morning convoy from Goulcrest. Tammera had done everything her mentor Spector had trained her to do. Her whole Scout Troop had busted their collective asses over the last few weeks. This was their first time operating on their own without adult supervision. they wanted to do their mentor Spector proud. Most especially Tammera.
“Artemis this is Huntress. Over”
“Go for Artemis, Huntress. Over” Tammera answered over the tactical helmet’s radio.
“We have nine Hotel-Tango-Victor-nine-nine-sevens in bound. Have four, I say again, four, Lemma-Foxtrot-Alpha-Victor-two-two-nine in escort. This is not our target. I say again, Artemis, not our target. Huntress, Out.”
Tammera turned to Joy McIntosh. “We got a problem Joy. It that’s not our convoy. Then where the frack is our target?”
“Late or not coming. We’re not sit up to take on four gun-trucks. Those FAV-two-two-nines carry enough firepower to level this tree line and us with it. Pass the word we’re pulling out.” Tammera ordered as she set her rifle against the rock she would have used to set of their ambush. “I’ll cover everyone’s retreat.”
“Are you sure about this Tammy?” Joy asked as she started to pull back. Only to drop down next to her pointing across the roadway. “Shit. Over there. That’s a TV-eleven ATV Guncarriage. They’re waiting for us move.”
“Shit! We’re screwed. They’ll drop enough rounds on this ridge to kill us all if we move. They’ll do it the second we set off the ambush. We’re damned if we don’t. We’re damned if we do.” Tammera shifted her sights to the TV-11 ATV Guncarriage. “If I’m going to die here today. I’m taking the gunner of that that beast with me.”
Then to her surprise the missile rack in back raised to a 60-degree angle then swiveled to the south. Both girls watched in horror as the four rows of missile tubes fired one after another. As the last of the 12inch rockets left its lunch tube the rack swiveled back to the forward position and lowered to the travel position. Then to their amazement the TV-11 spun on its tracks and disappeared into the woods on the other ridgeline. As it disappeared the sounds of impacting rockets could be heard. Both girls stood up slowly as did the rest of the Scout Troop. They all looked to where the rockets had fallen.
Tammera reached up and keyed her radio. “Huntress, come in Huntress. Did you observe the artillery impact? Over.”
“Affirmative Artemis. Twenty-four impacts on the inbound convoy. Heavy enemy casualties. All escorts destroyed or rendered inoperable. Five transports destroyed and burning. The rest are not long for this world, Artemis. Their crews are already abandoning them where they sit. The fires are starting to spread. From the looks of things. Whoever fired those rockets used a mixed load of two-to-one High Explosives to White Phosphorus. Over.”
“Copy that Huntress. Get your ass out of there and back to the troop. We’re pulling out once we’ve regrouped. Out.” Tammera turned to Joy. “Round everyone up Joy. This is mission is scrubbed. Spector needs to know about that TV-eleven-Thunderstorm.”
“Why? From what I can see they just save us a lot of heartburn.” Tim Horton asked as he and Randy Hill joined them.
“Did you see the age of that thing? It has to be at least twenty to thirty years old. The TV-eleven tracked ATV has been used since the time of the last Succession War. If someone is operating something like now it would explain a lot of the reports we’ve been picking up.” Tammera snapped. Then sighed at the blank look of her friends. “Guys, think about our lessons. What was the one thing that Spector and the other Black Saints kept going on and on about?”
“We can never know enough about the capabilities of the locals.” The gather Adventure Scouts intoned as one. Only to groan in pain. Randy looked at Tammera and asked. “What have we missed Tammy?”
“The only people who used those back then were the regular Empyreal Army Artillery Corps. All of those would have been stored in the Drogdalk or Sario PDF armories. Guys someone have to of survived the gas attacks on our homes.” Tammera pointed out for her friends smiling. The sad part is she knew she was lying to herself even as the words left her mouth. Joy placed her left hand on her friend’s shoulder.
“Tammy, we all saw the bodies. No one survived the attacks. OUR parents are gone.” When Tammera went to argue Joy pulled her into a tight rib breaking hug. “DAMN IT! Don’t you think I dream of them still being alive every night. Think about.”
“Not too many people know how to operate a quarter of the vehicles in the Armories. If there was survivors they would have been part of the PDF. Which none of our parents were with one exception Joey King.” Tammera answered fighting back the tears that threatened to engulf her once again. “Can’t keep chasing dreams.”
“Come one let’s get back to base and report this to Spector.” Joy told her friend. The gathered scouts turned guerrilla fighters moved through the surrounding woods with a stealth that belied their youth. The Black Saints had made use of their skills used as Adventure Scouts and honed them to a razor’s edge. This small band of resistance fighters may be young, but they had become the most feared in the Deerfield area of the continent. They were trained solely by Spector.
While Ace organized the unions of Sario. The rest of the Black Saints went out of their way to win the hearts and minds of the other locals. They set up an improvised hospital. In the last few weeks, the Gorgonzola Occupation Forces knew nothing but fear and desperation. Nightly rocket attacks, hourly reports of new sniper attacks, men waking to find the heads of friends on pikes, bombings at roadside crossings, even the Brownshirts were targeted. The Black Saints had quickly earned a lot of respect among the locals of the area by put down Dale Winthrop. With the corrupt union boss dead and out of the way. More responsible leaders for the people of Sario came forward to led them in their revolt.
Yet it was this band of sixteen teenagers trained by the Death Dealer sniper that drew the greatest respect from the local adults. The Death Dealers were well respected and in many cases feared but this teens had been elevated among their number. The local adults were at first surprised then outraged at teenagers being put in charge of their training. That was until those teenagers started handing out life altering beatings. Any time an adult would bulk at do something in training one of the Black Knights would call on one of the teens. That always ended the problem quickly. Because unlike the adults that came to the resistance. The teenagers had no problems with following the orders of their mentors. It earned the Adventure Scouts a nickname among the citizens of Sario, the Night Children.
Grace Point, Eastern Rat Steppes
Iceman looked through the Marric K-71 Field glasses at the town in front of him. What he saw turned his stomach. “How bad is it boss?”
“Zero signs of life, Tigger. Another town has been gassed. If what I’m seeing is any indication no more that four or five hours ago. We’ll have to find a way around.” Iceman told her as he dropped back into their FAV. “Damn it. I want that chemical unit Tigger. This is the fifth town they’re destroyed in the last week.”
“We know that skipper. What we want to know is why these towns? It’s not like they’re randomly targeting them.” Tigger snarled and pounded on the steering wheel.
“I got a feeling it has to do with these five towns all being on the same road. This piece of concrete and asphalt runs nonstop between Goulcrest and Lineberry. It’s the only direct road between the two cities. There are twenty-three smaller cities and towns between them.” Iceman told her as he pulled out his map-case. With a steady hand he drew his finger along the road then sighed. “Each town that has been hit so far is at a crossroads or natural pinch point. The Cheeseheads are attempting to secure their supply routes.”
“It’s not going to do them any good Iceman. Sooner or later their supplies from their home worlds will dry up.” Tigger countered.
“Won’t matter if they starve out the locals Tigger. The bastards can live off the land for a lot longer than High Command believes.” Iceman explained honestly. “Those Brownshirt bastards are using this invasion to further their own ends.”
“With more than a few of them getting revenge for imagined slights.” Tigger grunted then spat out the open window. “I got no problems with killing as any of those traitorous cock bites as we can Iceman.”
“We have to deal with that chemical unit Tigger first. After that I’ll happily help you turn as many of them into body bag filling as we can.” Iceman snarled. At the snarl in her CO’s voice Tigger looked over at him.
“I’m not the one you need to worry about boss. The resistance leaders in Lineberry are talking about hammering the Brownshirt HQ with a missile strike.” Tigger then went on to tell him what she and the others had overheard. “Boss I know you don’t want to hear this but we’re losing control over the resistance leaders. That asshole Vanderbilt has been supplying them with arms and munitions.”
“There are a few things about that man I want to know more than anything else. First I want to know is where is he getting those arms and munitions. Second how is he getting them into the hands of the resistance. Third what is his long-term goal in all this. Lastly why isn’t he helping the resistance in his home district.” Through their connections with the Lineberry resistance Iceman had learned that Grayson Vanderbilt was their main supplier of arms.
“Damn if know the answers Boss. For now, I just want to survive the rest of this war in one piece.” Tigger chuckled then grinned. “That and solve the mystery behind who’s the Whitechapel Ripper? I got a c-note on it being Gunner.”
“I know you do.” Iceman grinned as he patted hi right breast pocket of his uniform. “Between the team and the locals, the pot is just short of two-grand. Most of it on some local gangbanger from Goulcrest. Though I’m inclined to believe their assumptions. Everything points to Robert Wolff being this Ripper guy.”
“Especially those sniper attacks. The only thing that doesn’t fit with his style was that attack on the spaceport. That was so something a Black Tiger from The Queen’s Second Commando Regiment would have pulled. An attack like that would have been just their style. Flashy, effective, and above all else insanely dangerous.” Tigger pointed out to Iceman. “Gunner is crazier than a shithouse rat, Iceman; but he’s not that crazy or stupid.”
“Fallen one, this is Fallen two. Come in Fallen one. Over” the radio crackled.
“We’ll pick this up later.” Iceman stand as he grabbed the radio’s mike and keyed the transmit button. “Go for Fallen one, Over.”
“Fallen one have sighted Charlie Echo Uniform at grid three-seven-five-four by five-one-three-three. In the open. Currently all personnel undergoing stages for full Decontamination, Level five. Smokers, and all transport vehicles undergoing same. Estimated time for full Decontamination four hours. Over.”
“Fallen-two how sure are you on that estimate? Over” Iceman asked as he found the grid coordinates that he had been given. The map showed an open field that sat northeast of Grace Point by four kilometers. “Tigger what do you make of this?”
“Fallen-one that is the best estimate I can give from my position. Currently ninety-degrees on the back azimuth off the stated grid point. Range is five-zero-zero-zero. Over” Rimfire answered for the second half of their small team.
“Hold your position and report in change in status, Fallen-two. Over” Iceman ordered the other team. When Rimfire answered back in the positive Iceman turned to Tigger. “Well Tigger I can see the wheels turning. What’re you thinking?”
“The heavy decontamination that unit is undergoing Boss. I got a feeling that they have to undergo decontamination between attacks.” Tigger told him as she pointed to the map. “Look at every place the Cheeseheads have used the gas.”
“Okay this is one of your areas of expertise Tigger. What am I missing?” Iceman was many things but an expert in Chemical Weapons wasn’t one of them.
“Of all the places they’ve used the gas. Only five times has it been one-hundred percent effective. Three times in a river valley, once in a mountain gap, and the box valley where Camp Rampage sat. Then there is the way the Cheeseheads are having to deploy the gas. They can’t use bombs, missiles, or artillery shells. They’re using smoke generators hard mounted on C-forty Pandora heavy track transports. Then there are the supply transports they’re using. R-W8X Curator Full Tracked Armored Personal Carriers. That is overkill for transporting any chemical, boss. Lastly they’re going through a Level Five decontamination less than ten klicks from where they released they’re last attack. All this is tell me the Cheeseheads barely have any control over the gas.” Tigger said as she studied the map. “Sir this whole route was laid down flowing the natural geography of the land.”
“Why does that sound like shitty intel to me?” Iceman asked Tigger.
“Because the second they attack Horehound the body count is going to jump. Because the gas isn’t going to stay where they disperse it. It’ll roll up the valley floor against the prevailing winds into Bentlymore. They’ll also have to deal with the crosswind from the intersecting valley.” Tigger pulled out a grease pencil and began to make marks on the plastic sheet map. She quickly drew arrows in the directions of the prevailing winds and then outlined the geographical features of the lining the road. “Iceman, if we’re going to take out that Chemical unit we have to do it in the next few hours.”
“Exactly how do you suggest we pull that off, Tigger? Rimfire and Snow are on the other side of the clearing. They’ll hear us the second we get within range of our FAST-V mounted weapons. If we try using just our Second-Generation weapons we’ll be well inside the range of the gas storage tanks. Not to mention having to cross an already contaminated area.” As Iceman pointed out the problems of attacking the enemy chemical unit in its current position Tigger chuckled. “What am I missing?”
Tigger smiled as she patted the two SEM-32 antitank laser guided missile, launchers and the two crates of SEM-28 Anti-tank Rage Fire laser guided missiles. “These little beauties can be fired from ten klicks out and still hit their target. They pack enough explosive punch to blow a hole in the side of those Curators and their holding tanks. We only need one launcher to target the Curators. Rimfire and Snow can handle that without a problem.”
Tigger grinned up evilly at her CO. “We let the gas handle the Cheeseheads.”
“Let them die by their own weapon.” Iceman returned the evil grin. “Break ’em out Tigger. I’ll contact Rimfire and Snow. We’ll drop eight of these babies on that unit before they know what hit them.”
Tigger just grinned as she exited the FAV. Within five minutes she had the first two antitank missiles set up for a long-range strike. Rimfire and Snow reported in that they were set and ready to engage on Iceman’s command. With a simple nod from her head Tigger let Iceman know she was ready. Iceman snarled evilly. “Fire.”
As he pulled the trigger to his SEM-32 sending his missile down range Tigger’s was right behind it. At the peak of the ballistic arch the two missiles engaged the laser homing warheads. Microseconds later they found their targets. Engaging their boosters, the two missiles joined their brothers in their suicidal destructive missions. Fifteen seconds following the launch of the first four missiles, four more joined them in their death spirals.
As Rimfire and Snow observed the impacts they reported back to Iceman the results. “Fallen-one this is Fallen-two. All missile impacted on target. Have secondary explosions and tertiary explosions. Area surrounding enemy unit is being quickly enveloped in think smoke. Personnel in the open are showing signs of chemical weapons attack. Simptoms are convolutions, vomiting.”
Tigger hit the override on the radio. “GET OUT OF THERE NOW RIMFIRE! HAUL ASS! DON’T LOOK BACK UNTIL YOU REGROUP WITH US!”
“Copy that Tigger! Un-assing the AO now! Fallen-two out!”
Iceman looked over at the suddenly white and suddenly shacking Tigger. “What kind of gas did we just release Tigger?”
“A four-way threat. That shit out there is a combination of a choking, blister, blood, and nerve agents. Anyone of which on their own is deadly but when you start combining them. They get deadlier with each new combination. If what Betty is telling me is even halfway correct that shit is more than twenty-times deadlier than anything on the books.” When Tigger couldn’t hold it in any longer she turned away and emptied her stomach contents on the ground. By the time Rimfire and Snow regrouped with the two. The found their CO holding the still sick Tigger kneeling on the ground. They knew that Tigger was no weakling. Whatever had driven her to this point had to deal with the Chemical Unit they had just destroyed.
When Tigger finally pulled herself together she turned to the team. “Guys, we need to go the long way around. By about fifty miles.”
“Damn! Just what the frack is that stuff?” Snow asked in shock.
“It’s a combination of the worst choking, blister, blood, and nerve agents. Each one deadlier than the last. When mixed together their potency just increases. Even back in school nothing they showed us comes close to matching that shit out there. The only thing I can think to compare it to is a Pandora’s box.” Tigger told them as she grabbed her canteen and washed out her mouth with cool water.
“What’s that supposed to mean Tigger? Some of us aren’t that literally inclined.” Rimfire snarked as he punched Snow in the ribs.
“A Pandora’s box is a nightmare concoction. It’s something my trainers in NBC warfare used to called nightmare weapons like that one out there. It’s a referral to the ancient myth of ‘A present from the Gods which seems valuable but which in reality is a curse.’ Pandora’s box is an artifact in Greek mythology connected with the myth of Pandora in Hesiod’s Works and Days. It was said that Pandora’s box held all the evils of the world. Pandora was supposed to have opened a box or jar left in her care, containing sickness, death and many other unspecified evils which were then released into the world. The last thing said to be left in the box was the ultimate evil.” Tigger looked towards where Chemical warfare unit once stood. “Just like that shit out there guys. In the NBC world that is our nightmare weapon.”
“And just how many units are there like this one?” Rimfire whispered in fear.
“One it too many Rimfire. See how that cloud is spreading out?” All three nodded their heads. “If it doesn’t start dissipating soon. We’ll have to pull back even further. I wish we had one or two drones.”
“What mean you wish we had one or two drones? You guys empty?” Rimfire asked.
“Used the last of them on Grace Point. Do you have any left?” Iceman asked hopefully.
“One aerial, one ground, the aerial drone has air drop capabilities.” Rimfire told her with grin as he pulled the two drones from the back of their Cyclone.
“Get them in the air.” Tigger ordered.
Thirty minutes later the aerial drone flew over the thickest part of the gas cloud. The ground drone deployed several sensors the second it’s wheels touched down. Tigger stood statue still behind the readout screens for the two drones. It wasn’t look before she was grabbing a pad and pin. Her three teammates knew not to bother her when she was like this. She would write down the time then some numbers. Do some more calculations. Tigger enter a command for the drones to gather air samples after thirty minutes. While she was busy with her calculations her team kept an eye on the slowly explaining gas cloud. They all knew that cloud represent nothing but rolling death. Even after centuries of warfare. Their three greatest fears were still Nuclear, Biological, and Chemical, weapons of mass destruction.
Death Dealers and regular Empyreal Army troops would face hails of gunfire without a second thought. Endure under nonstop raining artillery shells. Charge heavy tanks with nothing more than a can opener and a pissed off motivated attitude. Smile up at a 100-ton Armored Power Suit giving it the one-finger salute. Suffer unbearable heat, cold, humidity, and other natural conditions. They’ll deal with crap that most sane people would think twice about. Usually for low pay, and shitty food. Some times with little to no sleep throw into the mix. All for an ideal.
Yet tell them that they must face chemical or biological weapons you’ll get a very surprising response. Depending on the soldier you could get a face full of knuckles. A kick to the balls. Even in some cases a knife to the gut. To the soldiers of the modern battlefield those weapons of mass death and destruction belonged in the barbaric past. Long before they left Earth for the stars.
In the era of the Armor Power Suits striding across the battlefield as Queens of battle. AI Main Battle Tanks attacking as modern-day Knights. Artillery pounding enemy fortifications acting as Bishops of the battlefield. Light Infantry trading blood every soaked inch of ground like demon possessed Pawns. With the greatest achievement the Death Dealers their Kings of destruction and mayhem. Life has become cheap on the modern battlefield. To these professional military men and women targeting civilians was taboo. To use WMDs on civilians is beyond criminal.
“Okay I got good news and bad news Iceman.” Tigger said finally looked up from the drone readout screens. “Which do you want first?”
“Dealer’s choice Tigger.” Iceman answered coldly.
“Whatever that gas cloud is made from it’s a real Pandora’s mix. Deadly on a scale that anyone has ever seen before. It has a lethality rating of over ninety-nine percent. From first contact to TOD less than one minute. From the pictures that the ground drone sent back I have been able to piece together the stages of attack. First sign is blissing of exposed skin. This is followed by a deep bloody cough. The next sign is uncontrollable muscle convolutions. The last sign blood flowing from the ears, eyes, and nose.” The more Tigger talked about the gas the more her teammates wanted to hunt those NCB units and blast them to hell.
“You said there was some good news. Care to share?” Iceman asked hopefully.
“That shit beings to break down and become inert under direct sunlight in under twenty minutes. Within two hours after the release of the last of the gas you could walk naked through the affected areas. The only reason for decontaminating your personnel and equipment is to prevent buildup. If my calculations are correct.”
“When haven’t they been?” Rimfire snarked.
“No comments from the nut gallery.” Tigger joked in return before getting back to business. “The more that shit builds up the deadlier it becomes. The buildup doesn’t breakdown in sunlight. From what I have been able to figure out. The average decontamination takes between three to four hours. IF there is Decontamination Unit within two klicks of dispersal. Further than that you’re looking at a ten to twelve hours decontamination. If not longer.”
“How long to prep that shit for dispersal?” Rimfire asked writing down notes.
“I’m guessing here, Rimfire. I would say around four hours for prep. Another two to three hours for dispersal. Then you add in the three to four for decontamination. You’re looking at fourteen to sixteen hours in MOPP Level five or Mission Oriented Protective Posture Five.” When Tigger told her team that the enemy was spend 14 to 16 hours in MOPP 5 their eyes popped.
“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME!” Snow yelled. “It’s a miracle that none of them have dropped over from sheer exhaustion.”
“Hold on, Snow. Tigger just what is MOPP five?” Rimfire asked in confusion. “I know what levels one through four are, but I’ve never heard of five.”
“MOPP level five is used only in the most extreme of circumstances. For starters there are three inner suits and one outer suit. The first suit is skintight and full body coverage from the neck down. The second is watertight and just as tight. The third is airtight total coverage including the head with a breather mask. The outer suit is a two-millimeter-thick environmental suit.” Tigger could that her teammates wanted nothing to do with that level of MOPP gear. “Trust me guys you don’t wear that level of MOPP gear unless you have to. Those asshole have to.”
“Then I hope like hell they have more accidents like the one they just did.” Iceman snarled. “Because I don’t know about the rest of you. I’m tired of finding towns filled with dead civilians.”
“Boss can we shift our mission?” Rimfire asked coldly.
“To what?” Iceman asked knowing what she and the others wanted.
“I say we go after the rest of those NBC units. Any objections?” Rimfire asked. When no on the raise objections Iceman looked towards the no dispersing gas cloud.
“Then it’s time for the hunters to become the hunted. Mount up Fallen Angels. We have body bag filling to find.” Twenty minutes later the Fallen Angels were rolling across the face of Apollo 6 with death on their minds and blood in their eyes. Somewhere on this planet several Gorgonzola Chemical Warfare unit were on barrow time. Time that Fallen Angel Death Dealers were coming to collect with a vengeance.
As they drove into the fading sunlight of Apollo’s sun the war on Apollo 6 had entered a new and deadlier phase. One that was being echoed in the very heart of the capital and Deerfield Forest. The Gorgonzola Occupation troops thought they were winning the war. They had no idea of how deadly or personal the war on Apollo 6 had just become. They say that one man fighting for a cause is deadlier than one thousand paid mercenaries. The Cheeseheads were about to find out what facing fifteen such men and women could become.
-----tbc-----
Chapter 15
Shinigami Royal Battle Platform Ryuk, Delphi System
Beginning of Second watch, day 36 of the war
Chief Petty Officer Nancy Marks’ knees were shacking she approached the after dorsal dome of the ancient warship. Of all the duties she had faced during her time aboard the Ryuk. Delivering a report to the Emperor about his mother vanishing was nowhere on that list. The two hulking Doreen V guards in Land Warrior Armor waved her into the elevator with the one on the right chuckling. “Don’t worry Nancy. The Empress hasn’t shoot anyone since the Docs got her on mood stabilizers.”
“Knock it off Grady!” the other guard snarled. “Don’t listen to him Nancy. Besides it’s Emperor James that you need to worry about now days. Ever since he found out that he’s to be a father he’s become more quick silvered than our lovely Empress.”
“Oh lovely.” Nancy sighed. Then grinned up at the two guards. With as sunny a smile as she could come up with she sweetly asked. “I couldn’t get one of you to deliver this to the Emperor for me. Pretty please Randal.”
“Hold on here Nancy. You’ve never tried to pawn off your duty to one of us. What’s got you so on edge?” Randal asked with an edge of nervousness to his voice. Nancy just handed him the printed message. Randal quickly read the message. “OH Bloody Hell! Shit Fire and Save The Matches. Emperor James is going to hit the ceiling.”
“Damn it Randal what’s happened?” Grady asked in frustration.
“The Dowager Empress has left Hades with the War Princes, Grand Lady Dai Etsu, and the current Head of House Nakatoma, Lady Fuyuko, plus their younger sisters Ladies Nanami and Nanase. Oh shit! Has this last part be confirmed Nancy? They took the Mountain Wolves with them. Nancy, please tell me that this FTL is a god damned joke.” Randal almost begged the pretty Petty Officer.
“I wish that I could Randal. That came across my console just ten minutes ago.” Nancy grimaced then held out a second printout. “Along with this.”
Both guards groaned. Grady gave Nancy a pleading look from behind his heavy tactical helmet. “Please tell us that the Dowager Empress didn’t send this out to every mercenary unit in the Empire?”
“Can I lie?” Nancy asked with sickly sweet grin.
“I suggest you go on in then Nancy. Because the longer you wait with this news.” Randal sighed and looked over at Grady. “The madder he’ll get.”
As the door to the dorsal observation open the sound of a heavy thud could be heard. Nancy looked toward the far end of the observation area. There in the center of a one-foot diameter wooden circle stoke out a clothyard shaft arrow. At the other end stood Emperor James Nakatoma with a Japanese longbow in his hands. Off to one side stood the Empress Terresa with her own bow. “James we have an official visitor.”
“Chief Petty Officer Marks what brings you up here at this time of the day?” James asked with a friendly smile until he saw the printouts in her hand. “What happen?”
“Um… sire I don’t know how to say this, I believe it is best that you just read the FTLs yourself.” Nancy answered handing over the printouts.
James read the first FLT reporting that his mothers, grandmother, and aunts had all left Hades with the Mountain Wolves. “Ah shit. Why couldn’t they just stay home?”
“Who are you talking about James?” Terresa asked then sighed as James handed her the first FLT to read. Terresa looked up at James. “What could they do with one regiment of Household troops? It’s not like mother Maiha could conquer a planet. At least not with a unit that small.”
“Terresa my dearest wife there is something you should know about House Nakatoma. Off all the High Families only the Nakatoma family commands a ‘regiment’ that is actually two full Armored Infantry Divisions.” James chuckled as Terresa’s eye bugged out of her head. “My grandmother is if anything twice as sneaky as either of my mothers on their best day.”
“Okay, I can see them defending a planet with a force that size.” Terresa could see the Daughter of Death doing more than just defending a planet with two divisions. “But after that two Divisions of Armored Infantry is little more than a raid.”
“Read the second FLT message before you go making assumptions, Majesty.” Nancy swallowed hard and wait for the Silver Eye Witch to explode. Nancy had shared more than a few drinks with the big Doreen V Crew Chief, not to mention a few war stories about one of the two deadliest pilots aboard Ryuk.
“What has my mother done now?” The cold edge to James’ voice almost made Nancy piss her pants. Until he read the second message. “Oh my God! She’ll hit that planet with the equivalent of two full battlegroups.”
“What?! What does it read?” Terresa demanded as she snatched the second FTL from James’ hand and began to read. She had to read it three times before it final began to make any kind of sense to her. “But would they come love?”
“Terresa do you remember Fiddler’s Green on Hades?” James ask with a sad smile. Naturally, the young Empress remembered her first official duty and the part that cemetery played. She nodded. “When it was first commissioned one half of that cemetery was filled with the bodies of the fallen mercenaries that defended the Nakatoma estate during the Hades Uprising forty years ago.”
The implications of that statement hit Terresa like she had been hit by all of the main guns from her beloved FB-11A2 Claymore. “Oh shit! Every merc for two-hundred parsecs will slam down on that planet with blood in their eyes.”
“That’s not the problem Terresa. Even with every pirate ship in the Empire backing her play. They’ll never get through that blockade.” James snarled. Then in load clear voice called out. “Ryuk! Fire up the boilers old man!”
“Are we finally going to help out your cousin?” came the ancient AI’s voice as James felt the massive engines rumble far below. The massive warship moved slowly at first then with ever increasing speed. “Lady Saris Victoria would like to know our destination James. What should I tell her?”
“Tell her were going to bailout my family’s collective asses. And she’s to melt down the engines to do it. Full combat prep for the rest of the Midnight Fleet. I want this Battlegroup moving Ryuk. If your smaller siblings can’t keep up then to hell with them. My mothers’ will need your firepower, old boy. Though I’m surprised that you didn’t bring this to me earlier.” James called out.
“James my dear boy, how many times have I told you? If you want up to date reports on your mothers. Then station one of my younger siblings to act as their babysitters. I’m not a snitch.” The ancient AI chuckled.
“Damn it! Ryuk you’re supposed to be MY battle platform!” James huffed as Terresa giggled at the antics of her husband and Ryuk. “You’re not helping Terresa!”
“Yes I am, James. Ryuk keeps that head of yours from getting overinflated, and I make sure he has plenty of pins.” Terresa giggled. Terresa looked over at Nancy with a friendly smile. “You can return to your duties Chief.”
“Ma’am, sir.” Nancy said with a smile and sly bow then hurried from the Royal observatory. As the door closed behind Grady and Randal looked at her. “I survived.”
“The rumors of them killing the messenger are only true when it concerns their brothers and sisters. Grandmother, and mothers are freebies.” Grady chuckled. “Those ladies are known to drive them crazy.”
Goulcrest, Apollo 6, Highlands System: day 38 of the war
Command Headquarters Civic Intelligence Department
“I WANT ANSWERS! NOT EXCUSES MAJOR JAMESON! HOW COULD THE CID NOT HAVE ANY LEADS?! WHY HAVEN’T YOU ARRESTED THESE STREET GANGS?! BETTER YET! WHY HAVEN’T YOU MADE EXAMPLES OF THEIR FAMILIES?! YOU HAVE THE EQUIPMENT! YOU HAVE ENOUGH MEN! CLEAR OUT THOSE NEIGHBORHOODS ONE BLOCK AT TIME. IF YOU HAVE TOO! BUT SECURE THIS CITY!” Green Star General Kurt von Klaus pound his fist into his desk.
“Flag Colonel von Klaus, what you’re suggesting is suicide.” Major David Jameson sighed. “We can only secure the major routes in and out of the city. For each man I have in the Civic Intelligence Department there are six gang members. We try to harm their families our problems will increase twenty-fold. We won’t just be fighting the gangs and their members. But every thug that wants to become a member. We warned you that we could take the planet, but we would never hold it.”
“Then pull regular combat forces back to the capital and crush the gangs. Burn down their neighborhoods. I don’t care what you have to do but secure my supply routes.” The General demanded at the top of his lungs. “What happened with our surprise at the spaceport? I thought that your people were supposed to stop those Death Dealers BEFORE they blew up the port.”
“According to our spy in the resistance the Death Dealers used an unknown route to approach the spaceport. We do know that one of them failed to survive the attack. The good news is it was the older more experienced Death Dealer. We have ripped the heart out of the resistance in Goulcrest. According to my spy it will break within the month. If not the week. The threat of the phantom Death Dealers is gone.” Jameson had no sooner finished making this statement of pride. Than there was a spray of glass, then the back side of his head exploded outward spraying the floor bone, brains, and blood. Only reflexes honed in the survival of countless assassin attempts save Klaus form the round that would have ended his life.
There were nine more shoots outside the now shattered window plus the screams of panic were he needed to hear. The Whitechapel Ripper was still alive and here to avenge the fallen Death Dealer. Their failed trap had killed the wrong Death Dealer. When the commotion finally died down outside Klaus stood up and looked out the ruined window. With the eye a politician used to assassins wanting his life Klaus scanned the surrounding area. There was only one structure that offer an assassin a clear line of fire to this office. One that could only have been used by the most feared, skilled, and highly trained of warriors. A Death Dealer.
“If you were not already dead Jameson. I would kill you myself for your incompetence. As it is the Whitechapel Ripper has saved me a bullet.” Klaus sighed. About that time the door to his office opened and three guards rushed in. “What took you sorry lot so long to react?”
“Sir, we were dealing wounded and casualties in the lobby the floor below.” The Lieutenant for the guards answered. “Sir, the sniper killed seven.”
“With Colonel Jameson that make eight dead and two wounded.” Klaus snarled. “The wounded how likely are they to survive?”
“Not very likely sir. One has a chest wound the other shoot through the eye.” The Lieutenant answered honestly. “Sir, every man shoot by the sniper died where they stood. The two wound should have died as well if not for great luck on their part.”
“Not luck, but skill on the part of the sniper, Lieutenant. Those two survivors are nothing more than a warning.” Klaus snarled. “Of more to come.”
“More of what sir?” The befuddled Lieutenant asked politely.
“Chaos, Lieutenant. Pure and simple. The true heart of the resistance did not die after the attack on the spaceport. This Whitechapel Ripper has sit his sights on tearing us apart from the inside through the use of terrorist attacks.” Klaus snarled as he turned back to the shattered window. “He picked hi nest well.”
“How do you know where he picked his sniper’s nest sir?” The lieutenant asked.
“I survived enough assassination attempts to know. More than a few of them were by sniper attacks. The bastard used the King’s water tower. It’s the only place he could have fired from.” Klaus told the lieutenant with hard won experience.
“Sir that tower is more than two miles away. No one can make that many shoots accurately over that distance.” The lieutenant argued.
“Boy you have a lot to learn about the men and women who become Death Dealers. Unlike High Command I do not underestimate them. With good reason. Each one is a killer.” Klaus chuckled as the lieutenant turned red with righteous indignation. “Yet it is their snipers to be fear the most. Not their APS pilots, or any of the other combat men at arms. The ones that become snipers for the Death Dealer Special Operations Teams are truly the best of the best. They are the true one percent of the Human Empire’s military and to be feared for great reason.”
“What are you saying sir?”
“Those men and women routinely make shoots of over two miles. The truly deadly among their number can make kill shoots at close to three miles.” Klaus wave at the empty windowpane. “This would be nothing more a training exercise for one of them.”
“By the gods. How do you fight such monsters, sir?”
“With the same level of terror. As of this moment I am taking personal command of the Civic Intelligence Department. Round up two, no make that ten children for each of our wounded or dead. Place them in the courtyard under guard. As you’re doing this inform their parents that we shall execute one child each hour until the Death Dealer and the gang leaders are handed over to us.” Klaus’s order was cold and without feeling. It was one he had given before when putting down local revolts in his home Gorgonzola State. “Time to show the newest citizens of our Empire their place and how we deal with rebellious scum.”
“Yes sir.” The lieutenant saluted with a smile. As he left the room the smile never left his face. In his mind they were finally going to end foolish resistance. The only troubling occurrence was the suspiciously quiet from the Capital.
Back in the office Klaus looked out the window one last time. “We have been playing this game long enough Ripper. This time I shall win. The very people you’re inciting to revolt shall turn against you.”
King’s water tower.
It took me less time to breakdown my nest than to setup. Then again it always did. Blackjack looked over at me in worry. “I’m find Blackjack.”
“No you’re not Ripper. You damned near took Spider’s head off this morning. If it hadn’t been for Copperhead stopping you. There would be a hole in the wall of the orphanage’s basement from your PPC.” Blackjack snarled forcing me to stop and look over at the spy. “Look Robert we all know that Father Mike’s death hit you hard.”
“We were betrayed by someone in the resistance inner cycle, Blackjack. I will find that piece of shit. Until then I’ll keep most of them at PPC range.” I couldn’t keep the deadly snarl out of my voice. This war started out personal for me to begin with but turned even more with Father Mike’s death. “Let’s get out of here.”
“We have time Ripper. It’ll take them time to respond and estimate our nest location. We’ll have at least an hour.” Blackjack argued.
“I made that mistake once before Blackjack and it cost a good man his life.” I snarled and headed for our exit route. As we entered the service tunnels below the water tower we heard the sound of sirens above. “Like I said upstairs.”
“Damn. How could they have arrived so fast? Only you, me, Spider, Copperhead, and the two SWAT team leaders knew about today’s mission.” Blackjack snarled as she stopped just as they rounded a corner. “Ah shit! I know Copperhead is loyal. Our conditioning to the Empire is guaranteed.”
“I know that Blackjack. If I didn’t all of your people would be dead already. That leaves Spider and those two SWAT monkeys.” I snarled with honest heat. “Given my choices it’s those SWAT monkeys.”
“But you don’t know who you can really trust other than me and Copperhead.” Blackjack sighed as she looked at my grimacing face. “Let me take of this Ripper. I’ll find our traitor and deliver them to your hands.”
We had reached the next cross junction when the sounds of explosions could be heard overhead. I looked over at Blackjack in surprise. “We didn’t schedule a diversion in this area did we Blackjack?”
“Hell no! I didn’t want to have someone dumbass blowing up the buildings over our escape route.” Blackjack hisses then in a voice barely above a whisper. “Being entombed once in a lifetime was enough for me.”
“What was that Blackjack?” I asked as another explosion rocked the tunnel.
“Nothing. Just remembering a time in my life that I would rather not.” She shouted as another explosion rocked the tunnel even closer. “Look we need to find another way out of here Ripper.”
“We’ll use the Beacon Street tunnel. It’ll take us through the Grey Vipers, and the Emerald Dwarves territories but we should be fine.” I told her as we headed down the other tunnel away from the explosions. At least that’s what I hoped. We traveled the next eight block underground before coming to the exit to the tunnels. We were almost home. We just needed to use the service entrance to get above ground.
“Why won’t you just fracking die already? What the frack is going to take to kill you?” The voice was one I knew all too well. I should as the person it belonged to had once been not only a close friend but like a brother to me.
“You’re supposed to be fracking dead.” I snarled as I used low light vision to take in the person in front of me. Zack Cooper aka Timothy Landin former resident of Sky Reach Orphanage much like myself. “I visited your grave.”
“If you want to start over on this rock. You got to kill yourself off. I had shit all set to be the next hero of Goulcrest. All I had to do arrange for Captain Wallace to die by at the hands of the Cheeseheads. Well, him and Father Mike. Now those plans have been changed.” Zack then snarled. “All thanks to your return.”
“Life’s a cold hard bitch, Zack. What I want to know is how long you’ve been in Vanderbilt’s pocket?” This time I didn’t keep the anger from my voice.
“A few years now. Been able to live the life that I was meant to thanks to him. All I had to do was look the other way when certain shipments came through on my beat.” Zack chuckled. “With the old man out of the way and you dying where no one will find your body. Grayson Vanderbilt will become the ‘rightful’ face of the resistance. Then once that bitch Jacqueline Moore has her ‘accident’ and becomes a martyr for the cause. I’ll make sure Captain Wallace has a proper burial for his hard work and dedication to the people of Goulcrest.”
“You know something asshole. I could end this by using my Second-Gen weapons.” I snarled as I handed my rifle to Blackjack. “Go on and get out of here Blackjack.”
“My team has orders to blast whoever comes out this shaft other than me. So, no the cyborg slut dies here with you and your legend Rob.” Zack chuckled as he pulled a footlong vibro-blade combat knife from behind his back. “I’m told this will cut through even your Death Dealer’s bio-armor Rob. Let’s test that theory.”
“Blade for blade. Just like the old days, Zack. No need to involve anything else.” I grinned and extended the blades in my right arm. “Let’s dance with the devil.”
We slammed into each other with pure force and no grace. This was a straight up street in the service tunnels of Goulcrest. I have to admit that Zack had learned a few things of the years I had last seen him. Not that it would matter in the long run. I was going to kill this fracker if it was the last thing I ever did. I didn’t care about a legend. This man was once my brother and he betrayed me. Not only me but Father Mike, the resistance, and our home as well. He was going to die down here in the dark. Nothing was going to stop that if I had any say. I had plenty to say on the damned matter.
“We don’t have time for this Ripper. End him already.” Blackjack ordered.
“Do you know why I never challenged you to a knife fight Zack?” I asked him as I grabbed Zack’s right arm and drove the CQC blades into his stomach. I yanked upwards opening up Zack’s stomach and spilling his innards over the tunnel floor. As Zack grunted in pain I leaned in close to his earn. “You once told me that you were the best knife fighter in all of Goulcrest. As always you’re full a shit.”
“Damn. I knew you could get nasty in a fight Ripper, but that was beyond my expectations. More than a few of those moves aren’t taught in Basic or Advanced Hand-to-hand on Seth. Where did you learn them?” Blackjack asked me.
“You learn a lot of things running the streets of Goulcrest Blackjack. One of which is more than one way to fight. You got to remember that of all the cities on Apollo six only Goulcrest has more than one culture. We got Greeks, Germans, Scotts, Irish, Japanese, Chinese, and a few more. I learned to handle myself on all of her streets. It’s one of the reason I earned my street name. Now come on. We need to get out of here before Zack’s people start dropping explosives down that accessway.” I ordered her as I took back my rifle. “We’ll have to move over to Highgate and hope the Harpies let us pass without problems.”
“What are we going to do about Cooper’s men? They may know about the orphanage.” The second Blackjack asked me.
“Ah frack! They’ll head for the orphanage when this piece of shit doesn’t show up after a set period of time.” I snarled kicking the corpse at my feet. “How good are you with the assault rifle?”
“Good enough to provide you with cover fire. How long do you need?” she asked.
“Two five second bursts of fire. There’s a second accessway a thousand yards down that way. Head for it and count to thirty before opening the door. This accessway should be in direct line of sight to the other. They normally are in this part of town. I got a feeling that Cooper’s frack nut buddies are sitting right on top of that accessway. I’m pretty sure that we’re looking at a fifteen-man team. Those explosions we felt earlier were most likely their BV-nine Snowcat. The damned things mount a ninety-millimeter breechloading antitank gun. With the LEO ED-Forty-twos out of the picture it’s just them.” I explained for her as a plan formed in my head. One that I knew was suicidal in nature. Then again I had an ace in the hole. “Whatever you do Blackjack. Once the shooting starts keep your fracking head down. Because the hell that I going to raise well be on a catastrophic scale.”
“What exactly are you going to do Ripper?” She asked with real worry now.
“I’ve been playing cat and mouse with the Cheeseheads and the Brownshirts for long enough. Time for them to realize exactly who I am and where to find me.” I pointed towards the next accessway and handed her my sniper rifle. For this fight it won’t be of much use. “Don’t come looking for me Blackjack. This is a fight that I have to fight on my own. Now get going, good luck, and one last thing. Don’t come looking for me. You have to keep the resistance going.”
Blackjack gave me a hug and kissed me on the cheek. “You really are just like her you know. Don’t you dare get your ass killed, Ripper. You’re too good of a man.”
With that she ran down the tunnel to the next accessway. I waited until she was in the stairway and headed up before entering my own. As I climbed the stairs I activated my bio-armor. As it flowed over me I knew that I was about to combat an unknow force of undetermined size and equipment. Not the best of situations.
‘Celest how long will I have under full COBRA combat conditions before I finally drop over dead or succumb to its influence?’
‘Depends on the troops we’re facing Robert. You do know this fight can be avoided?’
‘Sure, I know that Celest, but those men out there are a direct threat to the orphanage and the resistance. They have to be stopped. Besides, I got a feeling there will be more than just a fifteen-man SWAT team waiting for us. Zack Cooper or as I knew him Timothy Landin was a cheating, double dealing, worthless piece of shit as a kid. I spent more time covering his ass.’
‘Why do I have a feeling there was no love lost when you killed him?’
‘Because there was none. I once loved that man like a brother. That was until he let one of the younger kids take the fall for one of his jobs. I gave him two choices. Turn himself in or I’d kill him with my bare hands. He took a third option. Faked his own death and let the younger spend the next five years behind bars. He dead in during a fight between rival gangs.’
‘I’m surprised you held back. You could have just killed him with one shoot from our antipersonnel lasers and been done with it.’
‘Sure, I could have done that, but it would have robbed me of the satisfaction of seeing the life drain from his eyes. That bastard stole something from me that was far to valuable to ever be replaced. Not once but twice.’ AS I reached the top of the stairs I activated the COBRA OS. I knew the second I opened this door all hell was going to break lose or in this case Ragnarök.
‘WARNING: COMPUTER OPERATED BATTLEFIELD REFLEX ASSEST has voluntarily been engaged. Do you wish to continue? Y or N’ I blinked on the capital Y. ‘Engaging ten seconds until full capabilities. Ten, nine.’
As the stupid AI counted down I snatched open the door yelling. “I am Robert Wolff you worthless bastards! I’m the one you want! The Whitechapel Ripper! The battlefield is now level! Let’s dance the Devil’s Waltz you sons-bitches!”
I don’t know if it was my sudden appearance or the fact that I actually challenged them to a head on fight. I dropped to one knee while my HUD targeted the BV-9 Snowcat with my main weapons. Both my PPC and PPL slammed home within inches of each other just below the gunner turret. The lightly armored personnel carrier exploded sending half the SWAT team to the pavement. The other half were thrown into either buildings or personal vehicles. I was moving fast and firing my antipersonnel lasers as I moved. My sensors registered Blackjack’s two burst of automatic gunfire but paid them no attention. They were directed toward me.
As strange raging calm swept over me as I targeted and destroyed a second APC. This one was F-113 Foxtrot. While faster and more maneuverable then its bigger cousin lacked the armor to withstand my antipersonnel lasers and died. I moved to the side as a heavy laser burned away the ground where I would have been in just a few feet. The COBRA tracked back along the attack. Less than 15 meters away stood a H9-2D Hound. At 35-tons it was the prefect light APS for Infantry support. It had just signed its own dead warrant. My jump assist jets fired, and I land on the cockpit. I didn’t bother with subtly. I ripped open the cockpit canopy and smashed in the head of the pilot with my fist. Firing my jets, I cleared the APS heading for a second light APS this one a 25-ton TR-78 Tayler.
The Tayler’s main weapons were twin over/under 105m autocannons mounted in place of its arms. While it could lay down a massive amount of fire. It was the perfect light scout APS. The COBRA locked onto the shoulder joints and fired both of my main weapons. They burned through the thin armor of the joints in seconds. The sympathetic explosions from the auto feed for the cannons ripped the APS apart. I was changing directions the cockpit was engulfed in a towering pillar of flame. I was heading for my next target. A 30-ton Sheridan heavy scout APS. It never stood a chance in the close confines of the city streets as I slide between its legs firing up through the hips into the chest cavity. My PPC must have hit the engine shielding because it quickly became engulfed in radioactive fire as its reactor exploded. Armor plates rained down as I kicked to my feet.
As came to my feet the COBRA painted 14 THUGS on my HUD. My rage at seeing the killers of Father Mike must have bleed over into the COBRA. I ripped them apart with my CQC blades and bare hands. I showed these butchers no mercy. The longer I rage on the streets of Goulcrest the more Gorgonzola Forces arrived. I just didn’t care. I was going to show these cock bites the true mean of what it meant to face a Death Dealer that is fighting for personal reasons. I had brought Ragnarök to the streets that I once played in as a child.
After raging wildly across through the area I finally spotted my exfiltration route. I crossed the city in minutes. As I did the COBRA OS cataloged the deferent military units in the area. Only one of which caused me any real worry. Four medium AI Main Battle Tanks at a checkpoint with a platoon of Brownshirts. I just cleared the outer edge of the Whitechapel neighborhood when I started to feel the effects of operating the COBRA system for such a long period of time. I worked my way down into the basement of the orphanage. I reached the bottom of the steps and deactivated the COBRA falling to my knees in sheer exhaustion.
‘Son of a bitch! How longer Celest? How long was that thing controlling me?’
‘Forty-seven minutes, thirty-three seconds, Robert. You had it engaged for far longer than you should. If my medical scans are any sign you were close to burning out your body. The COBRA is truly a double-edged sword.’
‘Okay what are we talking about here? Give it to me straight.’
‘Robert that system burns through your body’s natural production of adrenaline and other endorphins. Each time you engage that damned os you’re butting undue stress on your enteral organs. I advise that you do not engage the COBRA for no longer than twenty to thirty minutes at a maximum.’
‘I’ll take your advice under consideration Celest. Were you able to keep a kill tally for us? After all that I hope it wasn’t for just a few THUGS, light scout APSs, and two SWAT APCs.’
‘I did. Robert I have to say that when the COBRA os is engaged we are beyond deadly. You destroyed one full lance of Heavy APSs, a lance of Medium APSs, a lance of Support APSs, a Scout class APS Lance, three companies of THUGS, ten heavy and eight light tanks, I won’t go into the number of dead infantry.’
I knew that I would have blood on my hands when I engaged the COBRA. I was a soldier after all, but the sheer destructive capabilities of the COBRA was staggering. It is little wonder my great Aunt Dai Etsu and her family removed the program form the original Death Dealer AIs. If I could become such an unstoppable force on the battlefield while still somewhat in control. What would it be like to face one that was totally out of control with no human mind to guide it. It would take the firepower of a Fire Support class APS to stop it. I staggered to my feet and headed for the back of the basement.
“Who are you? What do you want here?” I stopped dead in my tracks at the sound of the child’s voice. I looked to where she stood and was shocked by what I saw. She couldn’t be more than 14 or 15, and she was holding a Honey Arms SEM-47 assault rifle. The ancient 7.62x39 slug thrower was worthless against my bio-armor but against the Cheeseheads and their bully boys it would cause plenty of damage. I stood up straight taking in the teenager’s appearance. The dishwater blonde hair, soft green eyes, dimpled chin, proud cheek bones, tugged at my memory. Unfortunately, I knew that Celest couldn’t help me just then. This girl was from before Celest’s installation. It was when I saw the braided promise bracelet around her right wrist that I finally knew.
“I guess I have change lot since the last time you saw me Pidge.” The second I used the hated nickname the teenage girl lowered the assault rifle and cocked her head.
“Robby?” I could tell he was trying to put the boy memory of the boy who pulled her pigtails with the cold-blooded killing machine that stood before her now. “But you can’t be! He left us to join the Death Dealers. Everyone knows they never return to their home planets. They become citizens of the Empire. Homeless warriors with loyalty only to the Empire.”
“I did Penelope. Though we often do return home on leave and after we retire. We may be Citizens of the Empire, but we never forget where we came from.” I explained for the fiery young girl that was like a baby sister to me. “Do you mind pointing that thing somewhere else? I don’t feeling like being shoot by you. Even if you think I deserve it for all the times I pulled your pigtails.”
“I should shot you in the ass just for that Robby.” She said with a huff but lowered the barrel down and away from my direction. That was when I saw the children behind her. All of them were no older 11 or 12 with the youngest still in diapers at around 2 or 3. Celest gave me a fast count of the children in room. I was surprised to find that Penelope was defending 23 orphans.
“Penny, what’s going on? Why are all these children down here? Why are you holding that rifle?” I asked as I headed for the far back corner of the basement to use the work shower. I could tell by the looks in their eyes they were all terrified of me. I was covered in ash, dirt, blood, bone, guts, and other unmentionables better left on the battlefield. Things that no child should ever have to see.
“First you tell me where is Father Mike.” Penny demanded. “He’s been missing for the last few days.”
“I’ll tell you later Penny.” I told her as I turned away from her gaze. Though I couldn’t help but glance towards the storage lockers hiding an arms room that held his corpse. I haven’t had a chance to bury him yet. Though once the relief forces arrived I would arrange for him to be buried in Peace Memorial Gardens.
“No, you’ll tell me now.” Penny demanded as she raised the SEM-47 to point towards me in the shower. “I’m pretty sure that this will punch a hole even in your ass.”
“Wrong Penny.” I snarled and to prove my point I fired my antipersonnel laser cutting off the end of the rifle barrel. “That is nothing, but a popgun compared to what I have become Penny. Don’t push your fracking luck with me for once.”
“Wha… wha… what was that?” She stammer out.
“Standard antipersonnel laser mark two. Able to cut through nineteen centimeters of ceramic plate armor at three-hundred meter.” I answered as the cold water washed the last of the battlefield grim from my body. “And Penny. That is nothing compared to the rest of my Death Dealer armaments. Now answer my questions starting with why the frack do you have all the kids down here?”
“Captain Wallace called an hour ago and told me to take all the kids under thirteen to the basement and hide. He said that there was a part of the basement that was hidden behind a false wall or something. I haven’t found it yet.” If Captain Wallace was telling her to hide the children under 13 the Cheeseheads were up to something.
“I’ll show you in a few seconds. Hand me those coveralls over there.” I said pointing to a pair of workman’s coveralls hanging on the wall. With her back turned I deactivated my bio-armor washing away the sweat of battle. I took the coveralls from her and dressed quickly. I stepped out of the shower and headed to the far back wall of the basement. I pushed on a set of bricks and the wall swung outward to reveal a 20x20 room with a kitchenette along the far wall and a bathroom in each corner. Stacked long one wall was enough sleep bags for all the gathered children.
“Where… where… where did all this come from?” Penny asked in shock.
“Father Mike put all this together. He was planning for this day for a long time, Penny. Let’s get the youngsters settled and feed.” I ordered her looking over at the gathering of orphans. “Look I’ll explain everything once they’re taken care of. For once in your life Penny don’t fracking argue.”
She gave me a dirty look but did as I asked. As one little girl about 6 or 7 entered the room she pulled on Penny’s dress hem. “Pen-pen who is this man?”
“He used to live at the orphanage Jenny. He’s a friend. We can trust him. Please get inside the room honey?” Penny answered honestly.
“Then he’s our big brother?” Jenny asked in awe.
“Something like that little one. How about we make a deal?” I asked her.
“What’s a deal?” She asked in all innocence.
“A deal is a promise between to people.” I told her with a grin and held up the pinky of my right hand. “But it has special meaning when it’s between big brothers and their little sisters. We make the most special of deals, pinky promises.”
The little girl giggled and wrapped her pinky around my own. “Okay, if you go inside he room, eat your dinner, and get ready for bed. I promise to tell you a bedtime story. One filled with adventure. About the young prince who stayed the dragons of smelly cheese and the trolls made form tinfoil.”
Jenny giggled and ran to join the other children in the saferoom. Once they were all inside I made a fast sweep of the base and all its entrance points. I made sure to arm the alarm system and booby traps. If anyone came down here while we were in the saferoom they would be greeted with a nasty surprise. As well as pissed off Death Dealer bent on unholy violence. As I closed the door to the saferoom I counted the number of children one more time. Ten boys all under the age of eleven, and fourteen girls, counting Penny being the oldest at sixteen.
“Penny where are the older boys and girls?” I snarled. “They should be here to help you with the little ones.”
“They’re spread out among the street gangs. They want to help take back our planet. I volunteered to stay behind to look after and protect the little ones.” Penny answered in a whisper as she began to make diner for the children. “Where’s Father Mike, Robert? Don’t lie to me this time.”
“He’s dead, Penny. He died as he lived, a Death Dealer to the end.” I told her bluntly and waited for the waterworks. When they didn’t come I was surprised. “Talk to me Penny. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“I knew it had to be something like that. Where is his body?” She asked.
“Safe. That is all you need to know.” I told her.
“Were you there with him at the end, Robby?” She whispered.
“He died in my arms Penny. I can tell you this much. I made the fracking bastards pay for taking him from us. Both the Cheeseheads and the piece of shit traitors who made it possible.” I whispered fiercely and grounded my fist into my palm.
“Now I know you’re my Robby, the Whitechapel Ripper.” Penny giggled and pointed to my hands. “You always did that when you were making a point. Thank you for coming home Robert. Even if it just to fight a war.”
“Penny I will always come home. This orphanage and these streets are my home. I may be a citizen of the Empire. Like all Death Dealers but this is my home.” I promised her with a growl in my voice I continued. “And may the Gods have mercy on the soul of the poor dumb son-of-bitch that dares to threaten it. Because I won’t.”
“Then you need to know that General Kurt von Klaus has ordered the rounding up of ten children for every wounded or killed soldier of the Gorgonzola Empire. Captain Wallace warned me that he’s going to execute one child per hour until you surrender.” Penny told me as she looked down at the stove. “You can’t give into that man’s demands Robert. You just can’t. You do and the resistance will crumble.”
“He wants to drag me out of hiding. If that is what he wants.” I snarled and drove my fist into the nearest wall. “Then that’s what he get. Only not the way he wants.”
“What are you going to do Robert?” Penny asked with a quiver in her voice.
“Penny what is the one thing that has always held true about me on the streets of Goulcrest? The one line that every last fracking gangbanger never crossed.” I asked her with a nasty grin on my face.
“No one, absolutely no one, FRACKED with Sky Reach Orphanage and got away with it.” Penny giggled as she thought about the gangs of Whitechapel and the respect, not to mention the fear, they held this man next to her. A man that might as well be her brother for all practical proposes. Two years ago, he was a force of nature among the gangs. Now he stood next to her as the pinnacle of the Empyreal Military Forces, a Death Dealer. If he said he was going to protect the orphanage from the Brownshirts and General Kurt von Klaus. Then he would, and may the Gods have mercy on anyone who dared to get in his fracking way. Because her big brother surely won’t. More than one gangbanger had learned that lesson the hard way.
“Come with me.” I led her back into the basement proper and over to the hidden arms room. I pulled it open. “Stay here.”
I went inside and quickly retrieved an SEM-48A3 7.62x51mm assault rifle with seven loaded magazines. I put six of the magazines in a bandolier and slapped the seventh home in the magazine well of the rifle. I racked the charging handle back feeding a round into the chamber. It wouldn’t shit against a THUG or armored vehicles. But against regular infantry this little baby was deadly as hell. I also grabbed something that would even the odds against a THUG. The ArmaLite armor-penetrating beam gun, could punch a four-inch hole clean through a Heavy AI tank at 300 meters.
Before I closed the door I took one last look at the blanket wrapped body of Father Mike. “I know that you didn’t want this for her Father Mike. I’m sorry.”
“He knows you did all you could, Robby.” Penny said as she wrapped her arms around me as I closed the door. “Sorry but I overheard what you said in there. Is Father Mike’s body in there?”
“Only until the end of the war. Then I’ll take him up to Peace Memorial Gardens. He deserves to be buried at Fiddler’s Green, but I think he should rest Here were he can continue to overlook his last home and where he did the greatest good.” I knew better than to try lying to her. She could always spot a lie.
“Father Mike was a Death Dealer?” She asked in surprise. I just smiled and nodded my head. “Why didn’t he ever tell us?”
“He was warrior doing his penance for his sins. He wanted to do something to make up for all the lives ended by his actions, Penny. Most of us retire to lives so far removed from that of a soldier it is not even funny. We wanted to put the horrors of what we have seen and done as far behind as we can. Yet we will always keep those memories of friends dying next to us on battlefields. In horrible and terrorizing ways. While not being able to do anything about it. For Father Mike caring for this orphanage became his chance at finding inner peace.” I looked around the basement then up at the ceiling. “When the time comes I’ll return here and take over. I doubt that I’ll ever be a priest, but I’ll take care of our home.”
“What are those?” Penny asked pointing at the two weapons in my hands.
“This little sister is the SEM-fourteen assault rifle. It’ll take down everything up to an Armored Infantrymen. I don’t care what type of body armor a standard Infantryman is wearing this little beauty will punch through like it was tissue paper.” Told her as I hand her the rifle. “It has a forty-round magazine. If you can handle that old forty-seven this will be nothing.”
I watched as she dropped the magazine and cleared the chamber before preforming a function check of her new rifle. Satisfied she reloaded the rifle and slung it over her shoulder. “What’s the range?”
“It’s currently battle signed to two-fifty but can reach further if needed. Now, for this little baby.” I said holding up the beam gun. “I give you the ArmaLite armor-penetrating beam gun. At full power it’ll punch a four-inch hole clean through a Heavy AI tank at three-hundred meters. It’s your weapon of last resort. Be sure to brace yourself before firing that little monster.”
“What about a rifle you? Don’t you need a weapon?” She asked.
“I am a weapon.” I told her honestly. “One bent on revenge that even the Gods of War fear. I promise.”
“What are you planning to do Robert?” Penny asked with a knowing smile.
“What I always do when someone fracks with the orphanage Penny.” I grinned. “Raise Unholy Hell until they cry mercy. Then break their fracking back over my knee.”
“At least you’re leaving them able to still have children in the future.” Penny sighed then giggles as she looked me in the eye. “On second thought no you’re not.”
-----tbc-----
Chapter 16
Command Deck, Dropship Morning Mist: Day 40 of the war
Maiha stood still as a statue. There in the view screen hung her target, Apollo 6. Around her floating in formation the equivalent of 5 heavy APS divisions, 8 light APS divisions, 5 heavy armor divisions, 2 armored calvary divisions, and 5 armored infantry divisions. With each AU they had traveled through the Highlands System another mercenary had joined her forces. Her fleet of 90 pirate ships had grown to 105 with the arrival of 5 more Cruisers and 10 more Destroyers. Even then she knew that those pirates would pay a heavy price for punching a hole through the blockade for her landing force. “I had hoped he would show up.”
“Worry not child. He’ll arrive on time. My question is how are you going to attack this situation? I mean you’re taking on a full Gorgonzola Empyreal Assault Fleet. With a thrown together Task Force of pirates. A motley crew made up of Lone Wolves, scallywags, and ne’er-do-wells. Fighters every one of them sure, but not people who usually work well together.” Dai Etsu asked of her with smile.
“Unless the Golden Corridor Pirates arrive in the next few hours. The destroyers and cruisers will be our lance. Their target shall be those damned battle platforms.” Maiha snarled as she watched the third New Castle class battle platform move into position to block her fleet. One was bad enough, two was a bitch, three a nightmare. The Gorgonzola New Castle class battle platform may not be a match for a Shinigami in a one-on-one fight, but three-on-one is another matter. Maiha quickly realized that her fleet of 105 pirates would pay dearly to get her landing force planet side. “They’re going to make us pay in blood for every last AU we cover.”
“They can try your Majesty.” Captain Saza snarled. “Every last Cheesehead Fleet Commander makes the same mistake. They treat them as nothing more than a nuisance. Mark my words those corvettes will claim three for each one they lose. If not more. Those little bastards fight so far above their weight class it’s not funny. When it comes to pirates they’re three times as nastier than normal corvettes.”
“Normally I would agree with you Captain, but we’re staring down the barrels of three New Castle battle platforms.” Maiha sighed. “We both know those monster don’t travel along. We’re facing three full battlegroups. We’re fracked!”
“Don’t count us out just yet, Empress Maiha. We’re still waiting on the main guest to arrive.” Captain Saza chuckled told her and looked over at the sensor operations station. “How are we looking Cutter?”
“T-minus fifty and counting Captain. I suggest we hold our position unless we want to get caught in their arrival rip.” The operator called out calmly. Only to change tone before he even looked away from his monitor. “CAPTAIN! WE HAVE MULTIPLE JUMP POINTS OPENING IN FRONT OF US. I’M PICKING UP TRANSPONDERS FOR MOST OF THE GOLDEN CORRIDOR PIRATES! THEY’VE COME SIR!”
“So, I looked, and behold, a pale horse. And the name of him who sat on it was Death, and Hades followed with him.” Captain Saza whispered in a voice just barely load enough for Maiha to hear. “Comms signal the assault fleet ‘ALL AHEAD FULL’. To the pirates ‘RAISE THE BLACK FLAG AND ATTACK’. Engineering full power to the engines. Guns give me a full sweep of the anti-aircraft batteries. EW keep those bastards out of our systems. Sensors keep your eyes sharp.”
Maiha did the calculations in her head. With the arrival of the Golden Corridor Pirates the pirate ships were now at two-to-one odds. That still left the three New Castle class battle platforms. The second those three monsters moved into the fight it was all over with. They weren’t Shinigami’s but they were still battle platforms. That was all that mattered in the end.
“CAPTAIN! I’ve got a massive surge of energy forming twenty-five AUs off the port bow! SIR! It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen!” The sensor operator yelled.
“The last of the party guests have arrived. Captain, please open the following channel please?” Maiha asked politely with a knowing smile as she rattled off the channel. “My son will be in a right fit about now.”
“I doubt that child. James knows your little quirks and deals with them.” Dai Etsu smirked from behind Maiha. “Well, at least most of them. Though this time you might have gone just a little overboard.”
“Incoming message on the Wave Dancer Network Captain.” The Comms Officer called out. “The header says it’s from Joker.”
“Send it to my station, Comms.” Captain Saza called out. When the message open at his station. He was greeted by the very pissed off visage of Emperor James Nakatoma. “Your Majesty, how may I be of service?”
“Captain is my mothers aboard your ship?” James asked fighting to keep his own temper in check over Maiha’s latest stunt.
“I’m right here James and DON’T take that attitude with me YOUNG MAN. The last time I looked I’m still your MOTHER.” Maiha huffed. “Besides, you have a war to fight. This is a family matter. The last time I checked. I still handle those.”
“Mom how can raising an army for invasion be considered a FAMILY matter?” James sighed. “Though in your case this would be a small response to someone threatening our family. I’m surprised you don’t have the Bloodline warriors or Ida-ten Knights out there in that mix.”
“Oh, I sent them to the other planetary systems in the Highlands to keep them busy and give the Cheeseheads a hard time.” Maiha waved airily. “Besides, if I let the Owens Clan hit Apollo six. There’d be nothing left for me to pound on.”
“How were you planning on dealing with the three New Castle battle platforms, mother?” Terresa asked in a sickly-sweet tone.
“With grace and decorum, Terresa. These are values that you are still cultivating in yourself. Ones that have served myself and Alice greatly over the years of our rule. As the new Empress you will find that being able to sweettalk certain politicians easier than threatening them with a cocked forty-five.” Maiha answered her daughter-in-law just as sweetly.
“Only if you mean using a PPC or PPL as grace and decorum in political negotiations. Should I remind you of your last visit to the Parliament?” James asked kindly referring to Maiha’s address in the Hall of Parliament exposing the Amazon Rebels.
“No need to go into ancient history James.” Maiha sniffed just as the guns of Ryuk open fired on the three Gorgonzola battle platforms. “Oh my. It seems Ryuk is upset about something James. You won’t happen to know what?”
“THEY DARE TO CALL THEMSELVES BATTLE PLATFORMS!” Ryuk’s voice roared over the connection. “I’LL SHOW THEM A BATTLE PLATFORM! ALL HANDS PREPARE FOR A BROADSIDE!”
“Captain can we have a view of the battle?” Dai Etsu asked kindly.
Without comment the forward view screen changed view and displaced a view of the battle between the four monster ships engaged in ship-to-ship combat. Even at 3-to-1 odds the vast deference in firepower, technology, and design could be seen between the two designs. Captain Saza grabbed the back of his command chair to steady his feet. He like all of his crew had heard the legends of the Shinigami battle platforms. How their firepower was unmatched and the savagery of their AIs without equal. Like all sailors of the black he had put those legends down to nothing more than tall tales. Yet here before his eyes and theirs was the very uncomfortable and horrifying truth. IT took a Shinigami to kill a Shinigami.
“By the Gods of War.” The XO whispered.
“Oh my. The old boy isn’t holding back today. He must be upset over something. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this enraged before.” Dai Etsu commented calmly. “Why I do believe that he is unleashing his full power on each Cheesehead one at a time.”
“Not yet Mother Dai Etsu. Close but not fully.” Maiha snarked.
Even as the massive nightmare war machine that was Ryuk charged into battle he gleefully disgorged his aerospace fighters, and bombers. The F/B-11A2 Claymores started killing enemy fighters before Ryuk reached the Cheeseheads. The roar of Railguns, the thunder of PPCs, the scream of PPLs, the thump of missiles and torpedoes leaving their launchers could be heard over the Captain’s screen. Over the roar of battle the sound of beating drums could be heard quickly followed by Ryuk’s calm voice. All three of the Granddames of House Nakatoma turned to look at each other in wonder. “Fifty years in the worlds of the living is but the swiftest of dreams to those devas of creation who take their rest within the Nirmanarati Heaven. From when we’re born it is our fate from the lowest peasant to the highest daimyao death will come for one and all! TO BATTLE!”
“Did he just quote Oda Nobunaga?” Alice asked in shock.
“YOU CALL THAT A BROADSIDE YOU WORTHLESS KNOCKOFF? COME ON HEAVE TOO AND SHOW ME SOME BACK LADS! TIME TO SHOW THESE JACKALS WHAT A REAL BROADSIDE IS!” Ryuk roared.
“My god MOTHER! What did you tell him?” James yelled over Ryuk’s uncontrolled laughter and joy at being engaged in battle.
“I warned you how he gets when faced with a real fight James. Right now, he has three knockoff battle platforms in his sights.” Maiha cackled. “Of course, he’s going to take over control for his weapons. Remember he is one of the six original Demon Gods of Death. Right now, he’s having fun.”
“Oh lord. I should have retired him when you stepped down.” James sighed only to have the ancient AI cackled in the background. “Shut up and finish taking care of those damned battle platforms you so gleefully engaged, asshole.”
“All in good time my dear boy. I’m not done teaching them the error of their ways.” Ryuk chuckled. “Your mother knows what I’m doing.”
“What is he talking about mother?” James demanded.
“The Gorgonzola New Castle battle platforms are linked. For each one he destroys the others feel the death. Ryuk is going out of his way to destroy the backbone of the Gorgonzola Empire’s Navy. Through the use of sheer force.” Maiha explained. “He’s out to do more than just punch a hole in the blockade. He’s out to crush it.”
“The Last of the true Death Gods has returned to reclaim his undisputed place on the battlefield.” Dai Etsu’s voice while calm was filled with the finality of the grave. Dai Etsu pointed towards the forward view screen at Ryuk. “Ryuk is the last of the original Shinigami. The original Death Gods that secured our nation. He will not stop until every last invader has been driven from our skies.”
The blinding flash in the view screen drew the bridge crew’s attention. There before them first of the New Castle battle platforms died. Even as the others pounded his massive bulk with every weapon in their arsenals. Not that it did them any good. Between Ryuk’s overlaying shields, and dushiulium steel haul the Gorgonzola battle platforms’ attacks did little more than peel paint. With each hit on his defenses Ryuk’s laughter grew by leaps and bounds. Along with his joy at battle.
“IF YOU SEEK PEACE! PREPARE FOR WAR!” Ryuk roared over the sound of his own weapons. Maiha, Alice and Dai Etsu could only chuckle at the ancient warrior’s glee. Suddenly Alice remembered the Latin phase carved into the doors leading to the Royal quarters aboard Ryuk. ‘Si pacem. Perpare bellum.’ The phase that had haunted everyday of her life for thirty plus years. This understanding was punctuated with the death of a second Gorgonzola battle platform.
Captain Saza had stood still during the battle between the four battle platforms. He like his crew had heard tales about the Shinigami battle platforms. Most of these stories he could put down to being true for the new battle platforms of the class, but this was one of the originals Shinigami that he was watching. What he saw was where the truth for those legends were born. Ryuk smashed the last Gorgonzola battle platform as if were nothing more than an irritating fly.
While Ryuk and the New Castle battle platforms fought for dominance in the stars above Apollo 6. The battleships of the opposing fleets clashed with blazing fury. Aerospace fighters from the carries hunted each other with savage intent while their heavier cousins the torpedo/bombers went after the carriers. Not to be out done by their bigger cousins of war the destroyers and cruisers slammed into each other with deadly intent. With their royal cousins raising marry-hell with each other the corvette were left to amuse themselves and amuse themselves they did. They harkened back to their ancestors the MPT Boats of World War Two. They swarmed in among the big ships firing off Mark-78 anti-ship torpedoes and raking the enemy with medium caliber laser fire. Once again they kill rate belied their deceptive size. For the corvettes claimed three enemy ships for every one of their losses.
“This is why the Shinigami have been so feared though our history Captain. Their AIs all carve one thing. A glorious death in battle. Even now Ryuk will soon feel the fading joy of unbridled battle as his enemies die around him. Their samurai souls will not let them go quietly into that gentle night. They will always rage against the dying of the light.” Dai Etsu sighed as she stepped up next to the Morning Mist’s captain. “Please head for the planet’s surface before Ryuk remembers that we’re here. Come daughters, if we’re not on the bridge the good Captain can honestly inform my grandson that he has no idea of where we are.”
“He’ll be fine mother. Besides James will most likely be leading the Hounds from the front once they are on the surface.” Maiha giggled as she shifted the two sword at her hip. “I want a piece of the Cheeseheads for myself.”
“Hold it right there mother!” James called out to the vanishing backs of his parents as they walked off the bridge. “DAMN IT! Whatever you do Captain Saza. Do not put down on Apollo six. Am I understood?”
“No offence your Majesty if you think that I’m going to ignore all three of your aunts, both mothers, and grandmother. You’re fracking nuts. Helm all ahead full. Make for the Northern continent of Apollo six.” Captain ordered as he chuckled at the face that James pulled while Terresa giggled before she cut the line.
Government Square, Goulcrest: Day 40 of the war
Grayson Vanderbilt seethed at the sight of the twenty gallows that had been built around the square. Each one holding five ropes apiece. At the end of those ropes a hangman’s noose wrapped around the neck of a child. General Kurt von Klaus was going to carry out his threat no matter what his people in the Brownshirts tried to advise against. The man was ruthless and there was nothing that Grayson or his people could do to stop this travesty. Unlike von Klaus, Grayson knew the man that they were trying to flush out. “This will not end well for you Kurt.”
“What was that sir?” Markus asked him quietly.
“Von Klaus believes that he can force the Death Dealer and gang leaders of Goulcrest to surrender by executing children. The fool has gravely underestimated the resolve of those criminals.” Grayson sighed then looked toward the two central gallows. “Not to mention the gang leaders’ dedication to their families.”
“How do you see this playing out sir?” Markus asked his boss.
“Depends on how many of those children up there are orphans. For each orphan that hangs we gain one more hour before the Goulcrest gangs attack. We got lucky that the first seven are from the Tiny Toes Home and not the Sky Reach Orphanage. Those Sky Reach kids are a symbol that not even I’m stupid enough to in danger. We’d have the enter city of Goulcrest raising hell here this morning. As it is we’ll barely be able to control the situation once the executions being.” Grayson looked around the square at the gathering crowd. “Are our people moving into position?”
“They began moving into position twenty minutes ago sir. The majority of our people will be in place before the first child swings. We have only one concern. None of the gangs have yet to show.” Markus informed Grayson quietly. When Grayson looked over at him Markus waved his hand to taken in the gathering crowed. “Do you see any of the recognized gang colors in the crowd?”
“Damn you’re right. Those thugs are nothing but predicable when it comes to wearing their colors. They won’t remove them once they’ve earned them. Not even for weddings and funerals. There is no conceivable reason for them to unite. That would be the only reason they would remove their colors. All to present a united front against our ‘Overlords.” As the realization stroke home Grayson knew that his plans for rescuing the children were about to be upstaged. “Shit! They’re here already!”
“Sir?” Markus asked in confusion.
“The gangs are here among the crowd. Most likely along the edges. Where are our people?” Grayson snapped as he looked slowly around the crowed.
“Top floors of the museum, Government House, city theater, watchtower, and library. All are armed with SEM-two-fifty Heavy Barrel Flexible Machineguns and SEM-Forty-eight assault rifles. Alpha and Bravo teams are also equipped with the long rang Laser Designator rifles for the SEM-forty-five Heavy MLRS outside of town. Once the word is given they’ll engage the Cheesehead APCs. While the machinegun teams engage the checkpoints and the guards in the square. The crowd should do the rest for us.” Markus informed Grayson with confidence.
“How long until we’re ready?” Grayson asked.
“Fifteen minutes before the stroke of high-noon.” Markus answered quickly.
“Damn not fastest enough. That damned Death Dealer will strike before then. I just know it. Do we have any clue as to exactly who this Whitechapel Ripper really is?” Graydon demanded of his butler.
“Very little actually sir. Though there have been unconfirmed rumors.” Markus whispered a he double checked his surroundings. “The recordings from that firefight above the spaceport and from the ambush four days ago that it’s Robert Wolff.”
“Did you say Robert Wolff? Any connections to the heroes of the Shy Reach Orphanage Standoff?” Grayson asked as he paled at the thought that the son of Majors’ Thomas and Kristine Wolff PDF was leading the local street gangs in revolt. When Markus nodded his Grayson felt the pit of his stomach drop. “By the Gods will that family never cease to hound my efforts?! Why won’t they just die off?”
“It’s in their nature sir. That family are descended from the Owens clan. They never retreat, they never surrender, and they fill body bags before dying. Remember that one of their family became the greatest of the Death Dealers. Why would the great nephew of the man called Death be any less?” Markus told him honestly.
“Markus what is the status of the cache in Dunkirk Cove?” Grayson asked with a plan forming in his head. Until now he had be able to control the access to that asset.
As always Markus double checked the area around him before opening the ever-present Dark Hacker minitablet. Once Markus had gone through the security measures to open the minitablet he handed it over to Grayson. As Grayson reached for the minitablet they were surrounded by six young street hardened men. One of them took the minitablet from Grayson’s hand. The other five ushered Grayson and Markus through the crowed square into a deserted side alleyway. Grayson could tell that these six young men were killers. All raised on some of the mean streets in Goulcrest.
“You and that worthless Planetary Governor always were too full of your own self-important attitudes Vanderbilt. You believed that only you could save our people. You and those worthless paramilitary groups. Now, the true heroes of Goulcrest and Apollo six have come seeking vengeance.” The young man’s voice was cold and filled with a cutting rage. A rage with an edge so sharp that it could cut steel. “You want to know why the coppers and gangs have been able to keep the Cheeseheads on their damned heels. We respect the man and his family that have been there for the people of this city before your ass ever set foot on this planet.”
“How dare you speak to me this way. Do you have any idea of just how much I have given to the defense of this planet?” Grayson’s rant was cut midway through by a punch to the gut. The leader of the gang members spat the doubled over politician.
“You’re such a fracking waste of human flesh that’s it’s a joke. Spike, Needle, Hammer, take this punk back to the clubhouse.” The three hardcore gangbangers grabbed Grayson up off the pavement and dragged him through the back allies of the Goulcrest. The gang leader turned to Markus waving the minitablet. “You get one chance to make yourself useful cock bite. What all is on this thing?”
“That holds a listing for all of Lord Vanderbilt’s personal holdings. Both the publicly known and those that are off the official books. In short, every illegal weapon and vehicle he has smuggled onto the planet.” Markus grinned and held out his hand. “IF I may young man?”
“You do something I don’t like” the gangbanger snarled brandishing a combat knife.
“Have no fear young man. I have no love for my former employer. He paid for my loyalty but that is where it ended. I only stayed with him as a matter of convenience. He was nothing more than a means to an end.” Markus snarled letting his true feelings show concerning Grayson Vanderbilt. Markus quickly typed in a second code on the minitablet. When he finished Markus handed the minitablet back to the gang leader. “This is the real listing, not the one that I showed that fool.”
“Damned old man this is jacked up! How the frack did you hide all this from him and the Cheeseheads?” The young man asked.
“Simple. Grayson Vanderbilt placed far too much trust in his staff. The man couldn’t tie his fracking shoes with a butler. If I had left the entrance to the underground escape route open he would have left my wife and the rest of the staff to die at his mansion. The only reason I have stood by him this long is to try and mitigate the damage his foolish plans would have cause our people.” Markus’s very blunt answer had the gangbanger staggering back a step or two. “Young man you don’t live to reach my age without learning a thing or two about politics.”
“Why do I have a feeling that it would be in my best interests to keep an eye on you old man?” The gangbanger asked grinning.
“Because you’re not stupid. Now, how many of your people are scattered throughout the crowd? I need exact numbers please.” Markus asked as he scanned the square.
“Each gang from the Whitechapel area sent in ten of our best. While the outer gangs have given us five each expect for one that could only three. Bringing the total number of OGs to just under one hundred. Each armed with a SEM-ninety-six, ten-millimeter, submachineguns. There are another ten members spread around the square on the roof tops acting as snipers.” The gang leader turned to the older man. “IF you got people out there. You better inform them to not get in our fracking way.”
“If anything, they’ll prove you people with more cover fire young man. I’ll insure that the word is spread.” Markus told the leader.
“You better. Because if this shit goes sideways and one of those kids gets hurt. There won’t be a place in the Empire for you to hide.” The young man snarled.
“You make it sound like I should be more afraid of you than the Cheeseheads.” Markus chuckled as he pulled out the hidden radio. After contacting the restationed units turned to the gang leader. “Vanderbilt’s troops won’t act until they see your people moving to free those children.”
“They better not only because it they do I’m not the one you need to fear, old man. I’ll just beat your ass stupid then hand you over to the one OG on all of Apollo that no one fracks with.” The gang leader told him with a straight face. “Not even I frack him and I’m in charge of the meanest gang in Whitechapel the Demon Pistols.”
Markus stood looking the young gangster up and down wondering who could instill such fear. If this street hardened young man was willing to just hand him over to someone else. Then just who was this gangster. “I wonder just who could make the gangs of Whitechapel back down from a fight?”
“He’s got a few street names, but the one we all know him by is Whitechapel Ripper. He is also the last gangbanger no one wants to have hunting their ass. The man was nightmare to deal with before he became a Death Dealer.” Markus realized why all of Grayson Vanderbilt’s plans had gone straight into the trash over the last few weeks. The real kick to Markus’s ego came when the gang leader gave him a nasty smile. “Your old boss and his butt buddies made a few mistakes. First they should never have tried to fracker over Robert Wolff, the Whitechapel Ripper. Second, they should have made sure that the orphanages got left alone. Lastly, they should just have left the gangs to the coppers. They should never have let those paramilitary jackasses run wild in the towns and cities.”
“Then the reports that Robert Wolff is the Whitechapel Ripper are true?” Markus asked in amazement. As the gang leader nodded his head. “All this time he has been right here in Goulcrest keeping his parents’ promise. When this is done I want ten minutes with Vanderbilt young man before you turn him over to Ripper.”
“I’ll do what I can old man, but I won’t make any promises. Especially when Ripper finds out that we have Vanderbilt in our hands. Him and Blackjack got a real hard on for the man. All I can tell you is they won’t talk about it with us.” The younger man chuckled evilly as he waved the minitablet in his hand. “What I do know is this is all they’ll need gut him without a trail.”
“Which will have to happen before the rest of his supports find out that he’s missing. AS much as I hate to say this Grayson Vanderbilt is extremely well liked among certain minorities on this planet.” Markus grunted.
“Where my people are stashing his sorry ass not even his own would think to look for him. Not that it will matter after today. This whole party is going to change before sundown on the western continents.” The gang leader chuckled.
“What’s changed that Vanderbilt doesn’t know about?”
“Above our heads a fleet of pirate ships, assault dropships, and the First Death Dealer battlegroup are smashing their way through the blockade. Ripper and Blackjack informed us of the incoming attack earlier this morning. This planet is about to get hit with eighteen divisions of pissed off Death Dealers, and twenty divisions of mercs with something to prove.” The gangster chuckled. “If Ripper’s calculations are right. That puts the odds at a one to one-point-four.”
“Son, there is one problem with that calculation. Of the fifty-five Cheesehead divisions on this planet thirty of them are second line occupation units. Of those thirty occupation units four are heavy armor and only one is an APS unit. All five of which are made up with outdated equipment. This one factor will lower the odds greatly in favor of the incoming force. Even without the Death Dealers the odds fall to two-to-one in the mercenaries’ favor. We add in that Death Dealer Battlegroup the odds jump to four-to-one in their favor.” Markus chuckled as he did his own calculations in his head. “Why do Death Dealers never factor in the sheer terror they sow on the battlefield by their mere appearance?”
“What does that mean old man?”
“There are very few troops whose very appearance on a battlefield that can turn the tide of battle. Of those troops none belong to the High Family Houses. They’re all National level troops.” Markus chuckled as he watched the young gangbanger absorb the information that he was imparting. “But of all the nations in the known human universe. None of them are more feared than those who have gone on to win the Empyreal Blacks of the Death Dealers.”
“I still don’t understand, old man. I’m not like Ripper. I didn’t grow up in a military family. I never saw the draw of following orders blindly or all the other shit the military monkey nuts put up with.” The gang leader told him honestly.
“What would you do for the members of your gang young man? How far would you go to protect them? Would you protect their families if necessary?” Markus asked bluntly.
“I’d die for my brothers.” The gang leader snarled. “You frack with one Demon Pistol you frack with us all. We’d kill or die for each other.”
“Just as I thought you would. Now young man this is what I want you to do. Think of the Death Dealers as the universe’s biggest, baddest, meanest, take no shit, gang defending their territory. No one fracks with them because of who they are. What happens when the Demon Pistols call for a sit down between all the gangs of Goulcrest?” Markus asked with a knowing smile.
“They show up or face getting their asses handed to them.” Spider answered honestly.
“And what happens if they try to cross into your territory without permission?” Markus asked with the same knowing smile.
“They get their asses handed to them.” Spider grunted.
“Last question. Of all the gangs in Goulcrest which one is the smallest?”
“The Demon Pistols. Everyone knows that old man. We’re also the last one anyone fracks with, with one exception.” Spider answered not really fallowing wear the old man was going with his questions.
“Then think of the Death Dealers and the Empyreal Military in the following way. Death Dealers are like you and your people, only they have a much bigger gang backing them up. Behind the Death Dealers you have the Regular Army who use brute force and sheer numbers to diver the enemy to their knees. The Army is backed up by the Empyreal Navy. Their job I act as the Hammer of God and clear the way for the Army. Part of the Navy are the Royal Marines. Their job is to board enemy ships and take them from the inside. That is deadly and nasty Close Quarters work.” As Markus explained how the Empyreal Military worked and their deferent jobs Spider came to a realization. The biggest baddest meanest gang on Apollo 6 had never truly walked the streets of Goulcrest or any city for that matter. The nail to drive this point home came as Markus talked about the final layer of the Empyreal Military. “Lastly are the Planetary Defense Forces. They may not leave their home planets, but they never give up without taking more than a few of the enemy few them.”
“Tell me something old man. Where did you learn all this shit?” Spider asked.
“Long before I ever became a butler I wore the uniform of the Royal Marines.” Markus reached down and pulled up his left pant leg. There before Spider’s eyes was old fashioned prosthetic leg. “Lost my leg at the tender age of nineteen during the Second War Of Succession. Before you ask I’ll save you the time. It was worth it. The blast that cost me my leg saved the lives of my brothers.”
“Why do I have a feeling that you were the one behind all of the successful attacks by Vanderbilt’s militia goons?” Spider snarked.
“Let’s just say that I kept the more radical elements pointed at the strong holds. While sending the more reliable units to take out the supply and support units.” Markus chuckled. “Like the units that are stationed around the square right now. All of them are from the more moderate units.”
“What does that mean?” Spider asked.
“They may have taken Vanderbilt’s weapons and money.” Markus chuckled. “But have no loyalty for the man.”
“Then in about five minutes get ready for the show of a lifetime old man.” Spider said as he smacked Markus on the back leading him back out into the square. “Because my boy Ripper is going to give old shit face exactly what he wants.”
“And what exactly is that my boy?”
“One pissed off Death dealer on a rampage through the center of Government Square.” Spider chuckled and looked towards the library. He double checked his old-fashioned pocket watch, a family heirloom going back centuries. “At one minute before noon Ripper is going hit this square full force. Von Klaus is going to die on the steps to Government House as he tries to give the order to hang those kids.”
Goulcrest Library, Goulcrest
“Are you sure about this Ripper?” Blackjack asked for the fifth time this morning. “That is nothing more than two-hundred yards of kill-zone down there.”
I had to agree with her assessment of the situation and under normal circumstances I wouldn’t even think of what I’m about to do. Only this wasn’t a normal circumstance this was life or death for those innocent kids. Government Square was full with the exception of a corridor running right down the middle. It was fifty-feet wide and two-hundred yards long. At every ten feet stood an armored THUG on either side of the corridor. In short a perfect crossfire kill zone.
“Doesn’t matter Blackjack. I don’t have much choice in the matter. If I show they try to kill me. If I don’t show von Klaus will kill those kids.” I cracked my neck. “I leave this to Vanderbilt and his people those kids die for sure. I let Spider and the gangs handle this some of them die along with those kids. This way I can keep the THUGS busy long enough for the gangs to get the kids and civilians out of the way. All I need is ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes. Are you sure about that Ripper? I mean you’re taking on what? Sixty to seventy THUGS? The second you show yourself they’ll converge on your ass like Raider Class dropships on assault courses. I know you’re powerful but even a Second-Generation Death Dealer would have their hands full handling that many.” Blackjack pointed out once more. Knowing full well that her argument fell on deaf ears. “You’re still going through with it no matter what I tell you. Aren’t you? You’re going to die out there you know that.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Either way it doesn’t matter. I got to do something to save those kids, Carol.” I sighed and looked over at her human face. “You know what they say about Death Dealers and the day that we day?”
“They say a lot of things about Death Dealers who are about to die. Though they all have one thing in common. They reach the River Styx alone. They’re always in the company of their enemy. That and they have a bad habit of spitting in the eye of Death in their final moments.” Blackjack sighed as she admitted defeat. She stepped behind the planter that held her assault rifle.
Over the last few days, the last few weeks all of her team had died one after the other. Each time Blackjack had felt the loss of her fellow spies. They may have died in the fighting against the Cheeseheads, but their deaths had never been in vain. Ripper had made sure of that. As the last member of the Emperor’s Hand still alive and active on Apollo 6 she had a duty to remember this one lone Death Dealer. Over her time as a member of the Emperor’s Hand Blackjack had met a great number of Death Dealers and they all shown as bright as stars in a clear night sky.
Yet among those stars there was always a few that out shown the others. In the last few weeks Blackjack had come to know the young man. In many ways he was like the Empress Maiha. Hard, cold, and calculating, when facing death. Honorable, and fair in his dealings with the street gangs and cops. Yet there was a soft side to him. A side he only showed to the orphans of Sky Reach Orphanage. Then there was the rage that this young man held at bay. A rage fueled by the ruthless cold-blooded attacks on civilians by the Cheeseheads. Attacks that were nothing less than Crimes Against Humanity. Yet it was the death of Father Mike that had driven this young man to take this war beyond the personal.
As she worked the bolt for her assault rifle readying it for battle Blackjack thought back to her younger years. Back to a time when she still had a human body. To that time before the High Priest System. Back to when she was Peter Longfellow. A slight smile came to her face. “Time to repaid some more of that Blood Debt.”
“What was that Blackjack?” I asked her.
“Nothing, Ripper. Just talking to myself.” She chuckled.
“You what they say about talking to yourself.” I snarked.
“This coming from someone who can hold a full two-side conversation in their head.” Blackjack smirked. “Don’t deny it Ripper. I know all about those secret DDAIs stuffed inside the heads of Death Dealers. Though yours is a bit wacky.”
“How the hell do you know that?” I demanded as she tapped the side of her head. “Oh, that right. I forgot you know my dirty little secret.”
“Robert of all the Death Dealers I’ve met over the years. There has never been two DDAIs that have stood out like yours and Maiha’s. Do me a favor? And don’t get your ass killed out there today.” Blackjack asked with real feeling as she watched me put together my sniper’s rifle. “Because there is a lady on her way here that will be highly pissed off with me If I let that happen.”
“If I should die out there Blackjack. You can tell my cousin I got a massive case of the dumbass saving a bunch of kids.” I snarked then engaged my bio-armor and COBRA os standing up slowly with my rifle in hand. When I next spoke, my voice had lost all emotion and human context. I had become the nightmare of the battlefield returned from the grave once more. “Engaging COBRA system now. Ten seconds to full combat capabilities.”
‘The clock is running Robert. Thirty minutes no more and I cutting that damned operating system. Are you sure you want to do this?’
‘No choice in the matter Celeste. We have got to save those kids. The only way to do that is to give von Klaus his Death Dealer. The only way for me to survive that encounter is by using the COBRA os. Let’s just hope that our control over the system is strong enough to get through at least the first three magazines. Klaus and the executioners are our primary targets. After that everything else is gravy.’
‘Targeting Green Star General Kurt von Klaus. Setting all targeting systems for Armor-piercing discarding sabot. Round count on display. Ready to engage, Robert.’
‘Then let’s start the party Celeste.’ I ordered her as I stood up and sighted in on von Klaus as he stepped in the light of day. I waited until he was standing in front of the gallows and behind the podium before squeezing the trigger.
At this range and at maximum power the flash-to-impact was almost instantaneous. I let the COBRA and Celeste take over at that point. Between the COBRA and my enhanced reflexes, I emptied the first magazine in under two seconds. Even as the first was falling free of the magazine well I was slamming home a second. The sheer speed the COBRA gave me in operating my enhanced reflexes was blinding. By the time, the fifth and final magazine had been emptied von Klaus lay dead on the step of Government House along with the executioners. The last four rounds ended the lives of von Klaus’s top aids and next in command.
By now the THUGS were beginning to swarm in my direction. In the square itself pandemonium had broken out. Just the way I had planned it. My first shot set in motion a series of orders to the gangs of Goulcrest. Orders that I knew would be carried out if they wanted to stay on my good side. It had taken just one gang leader stepping out of line to drive the point home that it was my way or no way. That gang leader was left lying on the floor of their clubhouse dying.
Scattered throughout the square was a force of 97 gangbangers opened fire on the Cheesehead light Infantry checkpoints and guards. More than seventy precent of them fall to the opening bursts of fire from the gangsters. The rest fall within the next few seconds. The ten gang members who had been stationed around the square as snipers used captured light anti-armor rifles to target the THUGS in the square. While worthless against an APS or tank they were perfect for taking down armored infantry like the THUGS and light armored vehicles. The last part of my plan happened as twenty members from the gangs rushed the gallows freeing the orphans.
As the first THUG opened fire on me I cut him down with my PPL. Two more fell to my PPC. From there it was only a matter of getting in close and unleashing the demon that I had held in check from the first day I had hit planet. THUGS were tuff as hell when massed together. A problem I had factored in when making my plans. The stairs to the library were a choak point.
One that would force the THUGS to come at me from just one direction. If they could have surrounded me the THUGS could have used their .45 Cal long gatling guns. While not deadly at first impact enough hits by them would eventually overwhelm even my bio-armor. By forcing them to come at me piecemeal I stood a chance against their numbers. Not that it would matter either way. They would all die before I was done.
As the timer ticked slowly towards the 15-minute mark the last of the THUGS died several feet from where I stood. I scanned the square looking for more targets only to find that the Cheeseheads were dead or dying. The orphans were gone. The square was empty. Only I remained standing drenched in the blood of my enemies. I spun on my heel and headed for my exfiltration route. I hit my jump asset jets as I rounded the corner of the library. I knew that the APS units would be arriving soon. With less than 20-minutes to go on the agreed upon timer neither Celeste or I wanted to push our luck with the COBRA.
Though it did give me a powerful tool for use in combat. It came with price. After the last time I had used the COBRA I had Celeste run a full diagnostic of my body. What we found drove home just how deadly the COBRA was to operate. Not only did it burn through outrageous amounts of adrenaline it sapped several other vital body fluids. Not to mention burned through body fat at a massive rate. It seems that the longer I use the COBRA the faster my body burns out.
We had calculated that within 45-minutes of activating the COBRA I would begin to burn away parts of my nervous system first. At 55-minutes I would start burning away muscle tissue. At 65-minutes I would start to suffer brain damage. At the 75-minute mark things would start to get interesting. Namely the Self-destruct countdown would engage. At 85-minutes the countdown would begin and couldn’t be overridden. At exactly 90-minutes my core power unite would overload.
Celeste had calculated that the resulting explosion would level an area of ten city blocks. Nothing would be left standing. It was the ultimate ‘finale act of defiance’. It was also something that we had both decide would only be used when there was no other choice and death had come to collect his due.
Once I was ten to eleven city blocks I disengaged the COBRA. I checked the timer to see that I still had five minutes to go. For some reason, the drain on me was as heavy as the last time I had used the COBRA. Though I still had a ways to go before I was in the clear it didn’t matter. I contacted Spider of the radio.
“Spider this is Ripper. Are the kids clear and safe? Over.”
“All clear and on their way to safehouses throughout the city Ripper. What’s your position? Over”
“Roof top of the old Slow Dough bakery. Heading due south towards the Gray Vipers territory. What the hell happened at the check points? You should have still been dealing with them long after I finished off the THUGS? Over”
“Got a helping hand from an unexpected source. When you get back we got a surprise for you and the Lady. Over”
“Copy that Spider. Any word on the Lady? Over”
“She joined up with the Raven Skulls and is working her way back to us. She sent word that she has your banger. Over”
“Copy that Spider. Any sign of the big boys coming to play? Over” I asked with more than a little worry about the APS units not showing by now.
“They’ve all been sighted heading out of the city Ripper. I’ve gotten reports from every gang in the city to confirm this. It’s like they’re pulling out. Over.”
I thought about what Spider just told me. I added that in with what I know about the incoming relief force. It all added up to one thing. The Cheeseheads were consolidating their forces to face down the incoming forces. The best part the war was fast drawing to an end. I started to chuckle then keyed my radio.
“Set out the good dinnerware Spider. Death is coming to dinner and she’s bringing the hosts of hell with her. Over”
When Spider didn’t reply right away I began to get worried. “Sorry about the wait Ripper. Word just came in from the Northside Rangers. Four companies of Fire Support APS just passed through their territory. The Brookside Warriors reported two companies of Assault Class APSs moving through their territory as well. The Eastside gangs have all reported heavy and superheavy tanks rolling through. It looks like we’ve finally won the Battle for Goulcrest, Ripper. Over”
“Gather the gangs Spider. The fight for Goulcrest may be over, but the Battle for Apollo six has a long bloody way to go yet. Over”
“Copy that Ripper. See you soon. Out”
I looked towards the sky and breathed my first breath of relief in weeks. I turned towards the direction of Sky Reach Orphanage. I had one last task to take care of today. This was one that I was going to enjoy. I was able to keep a promise to a certain little girl waiting for me. For some reason little Jenny made him promise to come home after rescuing the other orphans. The little girl even went so far as to extract a pinky promise from the one-time gangster turned diehard Death Dealer. I whispered. “I’m coming home Penny.”
-----tbc-----
“Well, we’re here, James? What do you suggest now?” Terresa snarked.
“That’s the problem love. My family has already decided the next stage of this family outing. They’re on their way to the surface as we speak. They’ll slam down on Apollo like the ancient Gods of War. Then they’ll, no let me correct that, she’ll lead the Host of Hell on a rampage of vengeance across that planet. The Wave Dancers will push to the front and never look back. Those seven Sword class APSs well crush everything in their path.” James sighed and looked out at the fast-disappearing Raider class dropships. “Damn them. Why wouldn’t they just wait until the rest of the battlegroup touched down first. At least until the carriers’ fighters were free to provide escort for them.”
“There’s still one squadron that can provide escort James. Even now they are waiting for their final playmate to join them.” Ryuk informed them both with a chuckle. “Well Empress Terresa. What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?”
“Terresa will not be joining them Ryuk!” James yelled.
“Oh really!” Terresa snarled as her silver bio-armor flowed out across her skin. “I’m pregnant not dying!”
“Exactly! You get out there pulling high-G maneuvers you could lose the baby.” James argued back in an almost pleading voice. “Terresa I could stand lose you or the baby. Please just stand here aboard Ryuk?”
“Are you going to take the Wild Cards down in an assault shuttle?” Terresa asked him kindly. When James nodded his head yes she continued. “Then if the father of my child is going to but his ass on the line. The least I can do is make sure that he gets down in one piece.”
“But the baby.” James started only to have Terresa stop him with a finger.
“Ryuk, please run a medical diagnostic of me. Then factor in the addition of a second layer flight suit.” Terresa called out.
“If you were to wear a standard flight suit over your bio-armor. Even when pulling the F/B-elevens maximum g’s. There would be no harm to your unborn child. Add in the additional factor of the deadliest wingman on my flight deck. Plus, the rest of the Wraths acting as backup. No one will get within firing range of you or the Emperor. I expect that both you and James will be little more than a distraction.” As Ryuk explained what his scans showed James’ shoulders slumped.
“Let’s head for the flight deck love. I got a feeling that Raven and her merry band of Outlaws are itching to get into the fight.” James sighed in defeat.
“Good to see you finally seeing things my way.” Terresa said with a smile as they entered the Royal lift. “Though we need to head for the Wraith’s ready room first.”
“Ah yes, the venerable and feared seven-hundred-and-seventy-seventh Interceptor Fighter Squadron. I have to admit that the Wraiths have come a long way from the days under your command. I swear the only pilots that can command them in combat is Colonel Raven Nevermore or yourself.” James chuckled as he thought about the two mercurial women who have commanded the 777th Interceptor Fighter Squadron of Ryuk during their ride down in their lift. “Now that I think about it. She would be a fitting wingman for you. No one else can even come close to fathoming the way your mind works behind the controls of a fighter.”
“That’s because she is just as twisted between the ears as I am.” Terresa chuckled as the couple exited the Royal onto the flight operations deck of Ryuk. Terresa turned to the right and head directly towards the 777th ready room.
Ready room for the 777th I/F Squadron, Ryuk’s Fight Deck
Colonel Raven Nevermore sat behind the commander’s desk with a pack of Carson Gold cigarettes and a lighter next an ashtray. She like the rest of the Wraiths had returned after just one sortie against the Cheeseheads. Even now the air scrubbers were starting to struggle to keep up with the smoke build up. Though the day had gone as planned and they hadn’t lost one bird none of her pilots were enjoying themselves. Today’s sortie had been nothing more than target practice for them.
“How much longer until we’re refueled and reloaded Smoke?” she asked her XO.
“Fifteen minutes for refuel, another ten for full armament, for all twenty-one birds ma’am. Though Death Scythe can takeoff now.” Smoke told her with a grin referring to Empress Terresa’s beloved F/B-11A2 Claymore. “I got to ask ma’am. Do you really think that the Silver Eyed Witch will be joining us? I mean we’re talking about the Empress of the Human Empire. No way they’re going to let her behind the controls of a fighter in an actual war zone.”
“Smoke, I want you to think back to when this squadron was first formed. Think about the woman who broke every rule that applied to air-to-air combat. Do you really think that a bunch of courtly advisors are going to get between her and that fighter?” Raven chuckled as her XO gave her a look of deep thought then chuckled. “Trust me Glinda will be here shortly.”
As if to underscore her words the door to the ready room opened to the Royal couple. Raven jumped to her feet along with every other pilot in the room. Cigarettes, cigars, and one pipe were dropped into ashtrays. “ATTENTION ON DECK!”
“As you were, Wraiths.” Terresa ordered with a friendly smile as every last member of 777th returned to their seats and smoking. Here in this room, she would always be Glinda, their Silver Eyed Witch. Here in this room, she wasn’t Royalty, she was just another pilot. “We got an extra flight suit, Ghost?”
“Hanging in your locker, Glinda. Get suited up. You got twenty-minutes for your walk around. Any idea on our next mission?” Raven answered as she stood back up to give her friend and Empress a hand with her flight suit.
“Is seems that my mothers-in-law are on a fast burn for the surface of Apollo six without fighter escort for starters. After that it’s down to ground attack support.” Terresa told Raven with a nasty chuckle. “Hope you don’t mind playing wingman?”
“Better that than having you gunning for my ass in practice.” Raven chuckled as Terresa sat down to pull on the pressure boots that would cover her lower legs. “Okay Glinda what’s with the extra gear?”
“This stays between you and me, Raven. I’m two months pregnant.” Terresa answered honestly and pulled at her flight suit. “This is a compromise.”
“I can see that, Terresa. I also hate to tell you this, but the Wraiths figured that out last month. It’s the only reason you would miss a chance at a training flight.” Raven chuckled then gave the young woman a hug. “Do me a favor. Don’t do anything stupid out there on our way down.”
“Don’t having any plans along those lines.” Terresa promised her with smile as she put her hand over her lower stomach. “Trust me.”
“Good. I’m looking forward to spoiling the little shit once they’re old enough to ride backseat.” Raven chuckled then sighed sadly.
“What’s wrong Raven? Come on talk to me. You’re more than just the commander for the triple-seven. You’re my friend.” Terresa told Raven honestly.
“The Second-Gen process couldn’t repair certain things. Like the lose of my arm and leg.” Raven sighed and looked own at Terresa’s hand. “Or the fact that I’m sterile.”
It took Terresa a few microseconds to remember that Raven start off life as a clone in the Amazon collective. She hugged her friend and wingman. “Come on sister. Time to get the party started. I need to burn off some frustration.”
“You’ll never change, Terresa. Alright let’s get this party moving.” She turned around and lead Terresa back to the front of the ready room. The rest of the 777th had taken their seats leaving their CO and Empress to themselves. They all knew that there was special bond between the two. One that formed after the Amazon Rebellion. “Alright you apes. Listen up. We got a hot mission.”
“What’s up, ma’am?” Smoke asked as he reached for his notepad.
“We got a group of dropships on hot burns for the surface without escorts. In the mess is the Dowager Empress, the War Princess, Grand Lady Dai Etsu, and the aunts for Emperor James. To be blunt Wraiths. My in-laws are headed for Apollo six to pound the shit out of the Cheeseheads. Now, my husband being the good son that he is has assembled the Wild Cards and their APSs in an assault shuttle to join them. Like Ghost put it this is a hot mission with shit for intel.” Terresa told them all with a nasty smile. “Feels like old times Wraiths. This is just the type of mission we were formed to fly. No intel, and by the seat of our fracking pants.”
As one the twenty pilots of the 777th Interceptor Fighter Squadron jumped to their feet. Fists raised high and voices clear as day. “GLORY OR DEATH!”
Fifteen minutes later twenty-two F/B-11A2s left Ryuk’s launch tubes. From his main flight deck the assault shuttles for the Hellhounds blazed into the skies over Apollo shortly behind them. Even as the Royal Bodyguard assault shuttles converged on the dropships of the Empress’s vanguard the Wraiths were clearing the skies. Once more the F/B-11A2 Claymores and their pilots showed their superiority. Both in design and firepower. Until now the Gorgonzola pilots stationed around Apollo 6 had yet to face the deadly air-superiority fighter.
Even as the F-86 Sabers, FJ-1 Furies, along with FJ-2/3 Furies of the Cheeseheads rose up to meet them by the squadron the Wraiths turned lose their fury. As the twenty-two fighters split up Terresa and Raven lined up as a pair. As the two former enemies unleased the firepower of their fighters the Cheeseheads fell by the dozens. Even the members of the 777th who knew how deadly the pair could were on their own but amazed by their teamwork as an element.
Even at 5-to-1 odds the two women never once fired their missiles. Their used of cross and overlapping fields of fire destroy the slower moving fighters of the Cheeseheads at an unprecedented rate. If the Gorgonzola pilots knew that they were in truth facing both the Black Witch and Silver Eyed Witched of New Texas most would never have taken off. Even now the idea that the Amazon Black Witch might still be alive terrified most pilots. Even those who had undergone the Second-Gen process to become Death Dealer Claymore pilots. To be facing both Witches of New Texas in battle was an idea that only one unit could handle, the 777th Wraiths.
The few Gorgonzola fighters that escaped the wrath of the Wraiths would forever be haunted by the two words written in gold on their tailfins, Felicis Fossor. As they fled form the avenging fighters more than a few of them had to eject at altitudes well below what most considered safe. The main reason behind the ejections was due to damage suffered at the guns of the Wraiths. As Empress Maiha’s fleet of dropships neared their Landing Zones the supercarriers Kaga, and Akagi entered the planet’s atmosphere. As they burned they’re way through the upper atmosphere their contrails were lite up by the setting sun. Not even the remaining Gorgonzola Commanders could fathom the fate they now shared with the extinct Warrior Class of the Amazons.
Government House, Goulcrest, Apollo 6
Green Star General Foust von Reichenberg staired down at the map of the northern continent. As it stood his forces were spread far too thin to prevent the landing of the incoming assault. Even under force march conditions he would be lucky to gather even two APSs divisions, with three tank divisions and at best two infantry divisions in support. Not with where that invasion force was coming down. It was bad enough that more than half of the coastlines were currently in open revolt.
Then there was the stupidity of this afternoon. A full company of Power Suited Infantry were destroyed. The Human Empire is right to call them THUGS. Their humped over stance and elongated forearms gave the appearance of overgrown street thugs. They were poor copies at best of their Empyreal counterparts. “What I won’t give for just two divisions of Empyreal Land Warrior Armor. Not that they would have done any good against that damn Death Dealer.”
“What was that sir?” Asked his Adjutant.
“Nothing Major, just exercising my right as a soldier to bitch about a situation that our late Planetary Governor had left us in. Any word from High Command?” The first thing Foust had done when taking command was to send word to Arco dei Gavi.
“About that sir. It seems that we have been out of contact with High Command for the last twenty days.” When Foust heard this, he fell into his chair. Once his regained his senses he jumped back to his feet.
“I want those Com-techs executed before the sun sets today.” Faust snarled. “There is no excuse for us to be out contact for that long.”
“Sir, they were under orders from von Klaus to withhold the information the rest of the Occupation Force.” The Major stammer as he back away from his Commander’s glare. “And sir there is more.”
“Just how fracking bad is the full situation Major?” Foust asked with barely controlled rage. “I want the unvarnished truth.”
“Yes, sir. We currently have less than two months of operational supplies. That drops to just over two weeks under combat conditions. Our greatest concern along those lines is fuel for the tanks, APCs, wheeled vehicles, and aerospace fighters. Even with us commandeering the local refineries. They lack the needed equipment to match processes we use to refine our fuels.” The Major explained not want to tell Foust the full truth of the matter.
“What does that mean? Exactly Major.” Foust sighed then correct himself. “I want the truth. Don’t sugar coat the turd for me.”
“Yes, sir. To put it simply as I can, the fuels the Human Empire use are of a higher quality. If we were to try using them in our engines they would burnout in a matter of hours. For the tanks, APCs, and wheeled vehicles this would not be that much of a problem. For the aerospace fighters it would be deadly. The only offensive weapons in our inventory not affected by the deference in fuel purity are the Armored Power Suits. It seems that they are actually working at a higher rate of efficiency using the Empyreal fuels. Though the APSs that were captured by our forces on the first day use a power source totally unique to their nation.” The Major sighed as he thought about the vast gulf in technology between the two nations. Unlike Foust he was an engineer at his heart.
“Tell me something Major Killmore. Be honest. Just how vasty superior are the Empyreal troops to our own? Hold nothing back.” Foust asked him as he sat back in the chair put his chin in his hand.
“May I speak freely sir?” Killmore asked not wanting to anger his boss.
“Granted. When it is just us Killmore I want nothing but the truth from you. Von Klaus and his staff of sycophants got us into this mess. I will need the truth to get us out of it. Even if it hurts my national pride.” Foust sighed knowing that he wasn’t going to like what he is about to hear.
“I would place technological advantage of the Human Empire somewhere between three to four hundred years in their favor as far naval forces go. Their greatest weapon is those damned Shinigami battle platforms. As powerful as our latest model of New Castle battle platform is they are but pale imitations. As for their regular ground forces go the Empyreal Army and their Navy’s Marines are seventy to eighty years ahead of our own technologically speaking. If you would like I could break it down for you sir.” Killmore explained hoping that Foust wouldn’t.
“Please go ahead and break it down for me, Killmore. I need more information.”
“The Empyreal army and marines are broken into two branches. Combat on one side. Support on the other. This does not apply to the Death Dealers. They are a pulled from all branches of the Empyreal Military. The Combat branches of their army consist of standard infantry, jump infantry, power suit infantry who use the Land Warrior Armor.” At this point Foust stopped. “Sir?”
“Exactly how much better is the Empire’s Land Warriors to our THUGS?”
“To put it bluntly sir. A tissue paper dog stands a better chance a catching the fireproof cat in hell. Our THUGS are little more than powered and armed versions of their medieval ancestors. It takes four of our THUGS to do what just one Empyreal Land Warrior can do on its own. Their Land Warriors can also operate for up to twenty-four hours whereas our THUGS are can barely operate for six hours before needing recharging and servicing. Against standard, light, and jump infantry they’re fine, but the moment a Death Dealer or Land Warrior gets thrown into the fight.” Killmore just shrugged his shoulders as Foust nodded his head in understanding.
“The inadequacies of our troops shine through. Understandable. What about their tanks and armored personnel carriers? Do we have any advantage there?”
“No sir. None. For starters most of the Empire’s Armored Force is made of AI control heavy tanks. By that I mean eighty to one-hundred-ton tanks. Their tanks are totally crewless with bigger main guns, better armor, and engines that are ten times more powerful than they need to be. In short their tanks are bigger, faster, and deadlier than ours. As for their APCs that is another matter. They don’t use traditional APCs, but Infantry Fighting Vehicles. Their IFV is in truth a tank carrying infantry. Each one is able to carry a ten-man squad of regular infantry or a five-man Land Warrior team. Another advantage the Empire has in this area are the sheer number of mercenary units which are equipped with similar technology.” Killmore explained.
“I see. You said that our APS units are functioning at a higher rate efficiency by using the local fuel. Is that enough to offset the deference.” Foust asked hopefully.
“No sir. Our only advantage there is in numbers. Even then it is not enough to offset their technological advantage. If it had not been for the units we capture at the beginning of the war we still would not know just how much of an advantage they have truly have in APS technology.” Killmore grimaced.
“An APS is and APS. There is just so much you can change in their design. Just how massive of an advantage can they truly have?”
“Sir their advantage is one in how they control their Armored Power Suits. Their cockpits are totally unlike anything we have within our nation.” Killmore explained.
“In what way?” Foust asked quickly.
“Sir, the Empire uses some type of bio-feedback long term suit and helmet for their APS pilots. They literally become one with their machines. This increases not only their reaction times, but their levels of control. While they would still need the basics of pilot training with these bio-feedback suits and the cockpit setup a novice is easily a match for a master using a standard system. We’ve tired similar setups with our own machines but failed at each attempt.” Killmore told him honestly.
“Have we figured out how the Empire was able to succeed?” Foust asked bluntly.
“We have, sir. Though for our nation to make use of that knowledge. We need to win this war. Which at present is looking doubtful, sir.” Killmore answered bluntly.
“Out with it Killmore. You have an idea as to why we’ve been cutoff from High Command don’t you?” Foust ordered.
“The Empress Maiha Mana Nakatoma made a promise the last time we interfered with the Empire. I believe that her son the Emperor James has carried out that promise. Only he targeted the State Capital planets and the planets that are in our chain of command. With those destroyed our chain of command is gone, sir. Those selfsame planets are also our main supply planets, sir.” Killmore explained his thoughts.
“Tell me something Killmore. Are these just your thoughts or do you have some facts to back them up?” Foust asked as he reached into jacket pocket for a cigar.
“Thoughts based on facts, sir. The largest of which is the silence from High Command and the Capital. It is the only theory that fits with all the facts, sir.”
“Damn. I was hoping that you’re going off gut feeling Killmore. Sadly, I believe you’re right in your assessment. Just four of our state capitals taken out of the chain would cripple our ability to defend our nation or attack further into the Human Empire. The Human Empire’s greatest weapon has always been the seven-forty Core Cracker planet killer. A signal Core Crack has been known to destroy a planet. Sadly, we have no idea of just how many they actually have stockpiled. I’m afraid that our Supreme Leader has finally crossed over a line in the stars he should not have. The Nakatomas have never been know for their tolerance of fools.” Foust sighed before lighting his cigar. After a few puffs Foust looked up at Killmore. “Tell me why you did not include the Death Dealers among the normal Empyreal Forces?”
“Death Dealers are an unknown factor no matter they are deployed sir. When deployed on their own they are able to gather local resistance to their side in unparalleled numbers. They inspire the local population to fight against the current reigning political power. On whatever planet they land. It doesn’t matter their number. Just look at what happened today in the square. One lone Death Dealer turned the local street criminals into a military force strong enough to not only oppose our gathered forces but to actually crush them. When you land them in mass the fear factor jumps off the charts. Not even our Grim Reaper Divisions instill the level of terror that just one Death Dealer division can on the march.” The more Killmore talk about Death Dealers the more Foust realized just how out classed his forces were.
“I get the point Major Killmore. Death Dealers are just too great of a wildcard to actually classify. Oh, will nothing for it. At least we’ll only be facing at most nine divisions of the devils.” Foust sighed and took a drag off his cigar. That was when he saw the look on Killmore’s face. “What am I missing? Just how many Death Dealer divisions are there Major?”
“If our spies’ reports are even halfway correct sir, and I see no reason to doubt them. At present there are eighteen divisions per battlegroup. A total of seventy-five battlegroups. With another two-hundred individual divisions spread throughout the Human Empire. For a grand total of one-thousand-five-hundred-fifty Death Dealer divisions. Though there are rumors of another fifteen hundred such divisions. Sadly, we have no way of confirming the rumors or even the reports concerning the actual numbers of Death Dealers.” As Killmore rattled off the numbers Foust knew that something was wrong with them. Yet what that was Foust just couldn’t figure out.
“Stop right there Major. I no longer trust our spies. To be honest I haven’t trusted them in a very long time for one simple reason. If anything, they have continuously mislead our nation with false information. The same goes for our higher ups. The fact that we’ve been out of contact for with High Command for such a long time should have been passed down to the rest of us commanders.” Foust grunted looking up at Killmore, Foust sighed. “From about the third day of this occupation we have had nothing, but problems left and right. Those so-called intelligence experts told us that it would take at least two to three months before any form of resistance could form on this planet. Yet almost from the start the local population has refused to accept our rule. Why? Because we underestimated their stubbornness.”
“I never understood why they would want to continue under a Monarchy. Which is what they currently have. We offer them freedom from an oppressive Government but continue to resist us. I just don’t understand sir.” Killmore grunted.
“I hate to tell you this major, but the citizens of the Human Empire have far more freedom than our own. Remember that our nation is just as class based as theirs. Only we hold the Military over the civilian populations. In the Human Empire they place the civilian populations over their military. In their Government they have three branches, Executive, Judicial, and Legislative. In their Legislative branch they have two bodies overseeing their laws. The Galactic Hall of Lords and House of Representatives. Their Executive branch is held by their Emperor whose only real responsibility is to act as Commander in Chief in times of war. The rest of the time the running of their government is left to both the Judicial and Legislative branches.” Foust could tell that his younger counterpart was having problems understanding this concept of government.
“That sounds rather complicated sir. How do they ever get anything done?”
“It is complicated Killmore. Yet that complex system works in such a way that it ensures true freedom for the citizens of the Human Empire. They prosper at every turn. While our citizens have suffered under the weight of every Exalted Supreme High Chancellor rule sense Thaddée Dimont the first. That is over six-hundred years of oppression. We claim to be a Republic when in reality we are nothing more than a military dictatorship. Never fool yourself into thinking otherwise.” Foust grunted as he stood up from behind his desk. He turned and looked out the window. “We have maybe four to five hours before the citizens of this city realize that all of our combat forces have withdrawn and all that remains are the occupation forces.”
“What does that mean sir?” Killmore asked with worry.
“That we need to be gone and all records destroyed. Before the street gangs can organize their attack. If not it will be our asses hanging from those flag poles. I want a total slash and burn of records, Killmore. Also, if there are anymore hostages in our cells get out and load them onto transports. You’re to drop them off in the center of the farmers’ market. We will not be repeating von Klaus’s mistakes. The man was a fool.” Now that Foust knew the full situation under which he was operating began to make his own plans. “Our greatest concern right now is our escape from the city. Our best chance at securing our escape will be with the release of those hostages. Von Klaus should have kept a tighter rein on those thugs in the Civic Intelligence Department. If he had we might not be in the position that we’re in right now.”
The sounds of explosions from far off in the distance reached them through the window glass of the office. Both men turned to face in the direction from which them came from. Only to see eight rising clouds of smoke. Foust stood there sighing. “It’s begun major. Much faster than I expected.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Killmore asked not understanding.
“The gangs have noticed that we have removed our combat forces from Goulcrest. As strong as we have made the CID they are no match for the gangs of this city. Whoever has supplied them with their armaments supplied them with the best. If I had to guess those explosions are from fourteen-inch laser guided missiles.” At that point in time eight more contrails were seen streaking across the skies. “Ah. Here comes the next round of missile strikes.”
“Sir I don’t understand. Where would the street gangs get those type of weapons?” Killmore was amazed that common street criminals could be supplied with heavy antiarmor weapons of this type. It just didn’t make sense in his mind.
“Simple. They have a benefactor. One of the Empire’s High Family members. Most likely that individual started off supplying the paramilitary groups among the citizens. He did so slowly over a period of time. He was originally planning on overthrowing the local government. Then we attacked and they were forced to change their plans. Instead of using those weapons to overthrow the Empyreal Government they use those weapons to supply the resistance.” Foust sighed as a third flight of missiles passed overhead and crashed down on what could only be CID checkpoints. “They’re targeted our checkpoints. Damn it! Whoever organized these criminals has to be no ordinary Death Dealer. How could we have been so stupid?”
“Sir. I don’t understand. Isn’t this the type of war Death Dealer Special Operations groups are trained to fight?” Killmore asked trying to understand what Foust saw.
“Death Dealer Special Operations teams are trained for this type of war major. They’re trained to operate as exactly that, teams. Yet, a signal Death Dealer has for the last few weeks operated within this city on his own. In that time, he organized not only the street gangs, but the former police, the unions, and the paramilitary groups into an effective resistance. One that has now showed their true power. We can expect to see an increase in attacks. The man has to have a connection to not only this planet but this city as well.” Foust snarled.
“On that matter sir I believe I know who this Death Dealer is and how he was able to move about the city so freely.” Killmore told his superior as he pulled up a fill on his tablet. “General von Klaus had a spy in the resistance that was able to report on some of their movements and members.”
“Did any of those reports give the name of the Death Dealer?” Foust asked sharply.
“Yes, sir. A Robert Wolff along with a street name of Ripper.” Killmore explained as he read through the report. “Sir, there is something that you need to know about Wolff. He is the son of those two officers from the raid ten years ago. The ones that became more than just local heroes.”
“Oh hell. Not another Wolff. Please tell that we’re not dealing with a Wolff.” The thought that the Death Dealer behind the unrest in Goulcrest was the son of those two local heroes sent an icy chill down his spine. The Wolff name had become synonymous with one of the deadliest days in Gorgonzola Military recent history.
“If this report is to be believed sir. Then not just any Wolff. One that earned a name among the street criminals of the is that is both feared and respected. Sir there is a secondary report stating the street name as Whitechapel Ripper. Sir, I have several more reports on this Whitechapel Ripper. Each report all give the same description, and they also match the description of the Death Dealer that led the attack earlier today. I can only assume that they are all the same person.” Killmore knew that Foust wasn’t going to like his summation.
The sounds of eight more explosions around the city reached their ears. “Damn. They’re targeting more than just the checkpoints.”
“What aren’t you saying sir?”
“That last round of attacks was on the individual CID barracks. The next round of attacks will be on their motorpol. Only the next one will be a concentrated attack. On the outside I would say around sixteen to twenty-four missiles at the minimum. Even if they have to reload their launchers. They will pound that motorpol into a scarp yard. From there they will move onto their ammo and fuel dumps. Once those have been destroyed they will come from us.” Foust sighed and took one last drag off his cigar. “My earlier assessment of our time is far less than I had guessed. We have at best two maybe three hours before they hit us. Have the Mobil Command Post brought around ASAP, major. We’re leaving Goulcrest.”
“Why sir? We can still hold the city. Just order a few of our combat troops to return. We’ll put down the rebellion here then move out to attack the incoming dropships. Why should we give up our hard-won gains?” Killmore demanded.
“Because major. Our position within the city limits is no longer attainable. Those street criminals that our predecessors so callously dismissed, have come for their pound of flesh. Flesh that they plan on carving out of our asses. If we’re still here in four hours they will be the ones to hang us from those flag poles. After they’ve spent a few hours torturing us.” Foust grunted and turned back towards the window as the sound of explosions reached his ears. “Son of a bitch. They’re moving on a timetable that doesn’t match up with established timelines.”
“What does that mean sir?” Killmore asked as he followed Foust from the office.
“Under normal circumstances they should be striking once every thirty-minutes. These MLRS units are not operating under standard shoot, scoot, and communicate rules of engagements. They’re siting still and just shifting targets before firing. Wherever they are, they’re very secure in their positions. They would have to be to avoid our counterbattery fire. Yet in the last twenty-minutes this city has come under enough missile strikes for the counterbattery radar to lock in on their positions to within one meter. Yet they haven’t fired one round to silence those MLRS units. Those MLRS units are either under the best cover in the universe or our counter artillery batteries were destroyed during the opening attacks.” Foust explained as he led the way towards the back of the building.
“Sir I have to ask. Where did you learn all of this about artillery and counter artillery? They don’t teach this in the standard officer’s course at university.” Killmore asked his commander in wonder.
“Do yourself a favor Killmore. If we should survive this war and you’re given a choice between surviving in a PDF or the Empire’ standard army. Join your home planet’s PDF. You’ll must likely survive under an Empyreal Officer for a few years, but you’ll learn more about how an army works than any university can ever teach you.” Foust instructed his aid. “That was where I learned about artillery.”
Before Killmore could answer his commander there was a round of explosions above their heads. The build shook. The roof fell in, and his world went dark. He along with the two-hundred and forty some members of the Gorgonzola Military still inside the building died under the crushing weight of several tons of steel and concrete. Outside the city the four SEM-45 Heavy Track Multiple Launch Rocket Systems lowered their launchers one last time. The crews quickly loaded the next to the last round of missiles to be fired from these positions. Their next targets would be the fuel and ammo stockpiles. Once they were ready the four MLRS’s raised their launchers. As one the crews twisted the firing handles, and seventy-two missiles began their final journeys. What Foust and Killmore had no way of knowing was that the gangs of Goulcrest had taken up positions around the city.
Positions that allowed them to target each CID checkpoint, and their barracks with ease. Those same positions had allowed them to target counter artillery batteries. The same batteries were the first ones to be destroyed. The third target was the Headquarters for the Gorgonzola Military Command. Of them all it was the only one to receive the direct fire of all four MLRS’s. The last targets were ammo and fuel stockpiles. As those eight targets were hit by nine laser guided missiles each the launchers were already reloading for the last time.
As the crews raised their launchers into firing position secondary explosions began to rock the city. Their final target was one that Foust had predicted, the CID motorpol. Only it was about to be hit with all seventy-two missiles. Not thirty-six he had thought would hit the motorpol. Once the launchers were raised to their full height and locked into position they fired. The rippling flames of their engines lite up the evening sky. For the first time marking their positions for the world to finally see. Not that it would do the Goulcrest military or CID units much good. The impact of the seventy-two missiles did more than just end the motorpol. It put an end the Civic Investigation Division, and their Brownshirt thugs. When Foust told Killmore that those MLRS systems would turn the CID motorpol into a scrap yard he underestimated the impact of those missiles.
Taskforce Tiger, Deep inside Gorgonzola Empire
Bridge of the Shinigami Battle Platform Katsumi, 22nd Death Dealer Battlegroup
First High Lady of the Death Dealers, Commander Lady Saris Victoria stood stalk still behind her Command Chair. The crew of the Katsumi view her with great respect. The men and women of the 22nd Death Dealer Combat Divisions would follow her through the Gates of Hell. To a civilian the loyalty show to this woman was uncommon. Yet for a member of the Death Dealers this loyalty was common. Even to a person from Wallachia, Death Dealer don’t care if you’re a vampire.
“Lady Victoria the last of the Taskforce Tiger has arrive.” Carol Billings, the Commanding officer for the Battle Platform told her. “Taskforce Cabbit and Taskforce Yankee have reported in that have formed up in their assigned assault points.”
“Thank you, Carol.” Saris looked out at the gathered fleets surrounding her Command ship. In all their history the Death Dealers had never gathered in such massive force all at once. Not even with the Regular Empyreal Military had gather in force along these lines. In her Taskforce alone there were 9 Death Dealer Battlegroups, 28 Naval Battlefleets, and 28 Invasion Armies. Each army made up of eighteen divisions. The sheer military might gathered around her was staggering. The scary part was this was only one of five such taskforces. “Any word on Stinger and X-ray, Carol? I don’t want to make the final push on San Vitruvio without them.”
“What was it you said on New Texas, Lady Saris? No such thing as overkill. Only open fire and reload.” Carol chuckled.
“I knew those words would come back to bite me in the ass one day. Then again it is a policy to live by on the battlefield. How long until Stinger and X-ray are done with their sweep through their sectors of combat?” Saris asked.
“Knowing Lord Malcom and Lady Stephanie three to four days at most. At the most five days. I do know that two of their battlefleets encountered slightly heavier resistance than expected at the beginning of their campaigns.” As Carol explained the reason for the delay Saris sighed.
“Thank you, Carol. This has been one continuous run through the enemy territory. Crushing the opposition that dared to get in our way. I still cannot believe how easily the Cheeseheads have been folding over. I still cannot believe the reports coming out of the planets. Whole PDFs just surrendering. One PDF to a single APS pilot and assault shuttle. I would have expected more resistance especially the further we marched into their territory. Yet that has happened.” Saris sighed.
“I think I know why Lady Saris. The members of the Gorgonzola PDFs are doing their best to protect their home. If that means surrendering in masse. Then that’s what they’re going to do. There is also another angle to this whole mess that we never saw until we actually started pounding their asses inside their own boarders. This whole fracking nation’s government, and its society is nothing more than a military dictatorship. We could have sent in our Special Operations Teams decades ago and flipped the Cheeseheads in months. Those military dipshits in charge just kept pressing down the commoners. Like it was their gods’ given right.” Carol snarled.
“It would explain a great deal about the way the PDFs has be reacting to us. I know that their Naval Forces have been crushed in every system we’ve entered. I still cannot believe how easy it has been for our ships to crush the Cheeseheads. It doesn’t make any sense. Shouldn’t they at least be able to put up some kind of fight? I mean not even their battle platforms have been able to stand up to our fleets Carol.” Saris sighed in frustration.
“Fleet Admiral Danial Cosby proposed a possible answer to that question a few days in his report following the battle in the Rat Tail Nebula, Lady Saris. The way he put it the Cheesehead Navy is made of second-rate knockoffs offs based on out of dates designs. After seen what we’ve been facing I have to agree with him. Not even their battle platforms are close to being a new or original design.” Carol chuckled as she thought about Cosby XO’s words concerning the Cheesehead navy. “Nakatoma Repo Services. You call, we hull, anywhere, anytime. You need it crushed. We offer a full range of scrap yard services.”
“I have to give it to Cosby. He and his people have a way with a phrase. By the way Carol I have something for you. It came in this morning’s message packet.” Saris told her long-time friend and fellow Death Dealer. “Congratulations First Lady Carol Billings. Once we return to Empyreal space you’ll be taking over the twenty-second Battlegroup. Sadly, for me I’ll be leaving for my new posting with the Second Battlegroup. For now, I suggest we get back to work. We got a war to finish.”
“Damn. I never thought I would be one of the First Lords or Ladies. How the frack did this happen?” Carol asked in shock.
“Carol you have proven yourself to be true leader and loyal to the Emperor. I’m not the only one to have seen your dedication. Remember Carol. We are Death Dealers. Family status and social rank mean exactly jack shit among our number. Hell look at me. I’m a damned vampire and through hard work have reached the highest place in our military. First High Lady of the Death Dealers, Commander Saris Victoria. The first woman to hold the position following First High Lady Michael Starr. Now show me what you can do Lady Carol.” Saris ordered as she stepped off to the side of the bridge waving for Carol to take her seat.
“Planning on retiring Lady Saris?” Carol chuckled as she held up her hand. “It’ll take a few more days before the rest of the Taskforces are ready. Until then I suggest we hold here and rest up our forces. For some reason I got a bad feeling about the final push. One that will cost us.”
-----tbc-----
Before Maiha and family marched the vanguard of her mercenary army. That vanguard consisted of more than fifteen regiments. Yet of all the units under her command on Apollo 6 only her command lance was made up of 100-ton assault APS. At first sight the seven monsters of war were enough to give any god or goddess pause. If they were the Scouts for Maiha’s little army the Gorgonzola army would most likely have run with their tails between their legs. The main reason for this was the way that they moved. More than one person had commented on their movements. As if they moved like ghosts of the battlefield.
“Someone want to tell me where the Cheesehead counteroffensive is? I mean shouldn’t they have at least tried to stop us from landing and forming a beachhead. Over” Nanase bitched over the privet frequency used by the Wave Dancers.
“Typhoon Maiden you will calm down and follow orders. Over” Dai Etsu snapped.
“Mountain Mistress, Typhoon Maiden has a valid point. We should have slammed into a blocking force at the bare minimum by now. Something wrong is going on here. Over” Alice pointed out from her position in their formation.
“Koneko Mistress is right Mountain Mistress we should reached their front-line trace long before now. Something is wrong. Wave Dancer what are your thoughts. Over” Katsumi asked of the second most experienced warrior in their lance.
“Way ahead of you Mistress of the Night. The Cheeseheads are trying to spread us out. Make us outrun our supply lines. It’s an almost fool proof plan. But they made one major mistake. Our supply chain isn’t tied downed to just one point.” Maiha chucked over the radio. “This is Apollo six. We can forage for what we need from the local area far easier than they can. Also, our dropships don’t have to worry about moving to stay in reach of our advance. Over”
“Hold on Wave Dancer. The second our supply ships liftoff they’ll come under attack from the Cheesehead air forces. They’ll be unprotected as they move. How are we going to deal with that? Over” Nanase asked sharply only to heard a giggle in answer to her question.
“Who said they’ll be unprotected? The last time I checked we have the deadliest fighter squadron flying top-cover for this little operation. The last time I checked the Wraths have cleared eight Cheesehead fighter squadrons already. And with the Akagi making landfall with our resupply dropships. They have a mobile airfield for both rearming and refueling.” Maiha quickly explained with a nasty chuckle. “Our current Empress is not one to be taken lightly. Over.”
“Speaking of which. Should she even by flying? Over” Dai Etsu asked of Maiha.
“Take it up with her old squadron Mountain Mistress. Over” Maiha chuckled.
“More like it up with Ghost. If anyone was going to shut her down. It would have been her. Not even Joker gets in her way when Glinda wants to fly. Over” Alice chuckled as maneuvered her APS around a small rock out cropping.
“I swear that daughter-in-law of yours is as bad as you and Wave Dancer. Over” Dai Etsu complained over the radio.
“Did I hear name being taken in vain? Over” Terresa asked as she flew low over the formation with her wingman just inches off her left wingtip. The thunder of their engines drowned out the footfalls of the massive war machines.
“Glinda aren’t you foully low? Over” Maiha asked her.
“Not for my current mission Wave Dancer. In fact, I’m still two-hundred-feet above where I should be for ground attack support. Over” Terresa answered honestly.
“That’s where we’re staying Glinda. Unless the shit hits. Over” Snapped an unfamiliar voice over the Storm Dancer net.
“Alright Ghost I get it. I won’t drop any lower. Over” Terresa pouted.
“It seems that her wingman has a better grasp of the situation than we first thought Wave Dancer. Ghost be a dear and make sure Glinda follows orders. Over” Dai Etsu chuckled knowing how hard it was to control the quicksilver tempered young woman.
“NO guarantees on that Mountain Mistress. Glinda has a nasty habit jumping in feet first into stupid ass situations. Over” Raven answered honestly.
“Mountain Wolf Command to Storm Dancer. Our forward Scouts have engaged elements of the Cheeseheads delaying forces. Position is nine klicks to your front. How copy? Over” Maiha sighed when she heard this report.
“Wave Dancer to Mountain Wolf. Good copy. Nine klicks to enemy positions. Contact Ridge Runner Command. Have them drop three rounds of HEAT with three rounds of Willie Peter. Blast and burn their asses Black Wolf. Over” Maiha snarled.
“Roger that Wave Dancer. Black Wolf Out.” The radio went inside Victory Maiden’s cockpit and Maiha sighed. As Maiha forces moved further into Northern continent the opening steps for the oldest dance between armies began. Scout units having gone before the main army were relaying reports back to artillery units. Soon those artillery units were targeting enemy positions and raining down hell. Counter artillery batteries would attempt to strike back in revenge. This was a dance that had become old as old time between modern militaries.
Goulcrest, Apollo 6
Even as the last of the Gorgonzola military forces left the city the local population was swarming over their Civil Investigation Division headquarters. The few remaining Brownshirts were dragged from their headquarters and hung. On the very gallows that was to hang the orphans of Goulcrest. The gangs and cops that formed the core of the resistance within the city had other plans than revenge. They were after the heavy arms depot and armed motorpol.
Spider looked over at Captain Wallace as his men pried open the gate to the depot. “I never thought I’d live to see the day that we would be on the same side, Captain. What are you going to do when we’ve won our planet back?”
“I’m retiring, Spider. I’ve been a copper for close to thirty years now. Before that I was an MP with the PDF for fifteen years. That is almost forty-five years.” Wallace sighed then looked over at the young man standing next to him. “What about you Spider? What are your plans?”
“I don’t know, sir. It’s not like I can join the military. Not with my record.” Spider answered honestly. “I know that I can’t go back to being a regular street gang leader. Every time I turn around I’ll have to pound one of my guys into the ground to keep them in line. Not to mention fight with every fracking gang leader in Goulcrest to keep the peace between us and the cops.”
“You do know that we’ve gotten the same type of training from your boy Ripper?” Wallace asked Spider already knowing where the younger man was going. “It’ll be a blood bath between the two of us.”
“That’s what I’m talking about, sir. Most of the other gang leaders and bangers get it. We go head-to-head with you cops now that we’ve got this training.” Spider sighed shaking his head. “It’ll be worse than the occupation.”
“Which gangs should I keep an eye on Spider? Before you go giving me that old line about snitches get stiches. This is a warning to those in authority about impending troublemakers. You’re just trying to prevent and all-out war in the streets and civilian casualties.” Wallace chuckled as Spider grinned.
“If I were so inclined I would turn my eyes to the Westend. More than a few of the gangs in that area of town have been showing signs of collapsing. Mainly because they were losing members left and right to the Cheeseheads. Of the six major gangs in that area only one still has it’s original leader. As for the thirteen minor league gangs only eight are still around, the rest are in the grave. Sadly they took the blunt of the casualties among those gangs.” Spider snarled.
“Why? It’s not like they didn’t get the same training that your people did from Ripper. What the hell happened over there, Spider?” Wallace demanded.
“They made the mistake of ignoring Ripper’s advice. The major gangs were using the minor gangs as cannon fodder. They would go out of their way to send the lesser gangs straight at the Brownshirts to die in glorious battle. While they would sneak around to the rear and grabbed up as much lute as possible. The Brownshirts figured out their tactics quick enough and began to make counter plans. The major gangs were soon taking casualties at the same rate. Even going so far as to take prisoners. Within two days of those first prisoners being taken the major gang hide outs were being hit by Brownshirt extermination squads. It got really fracked up over in the Westend Captain Wallace. There are a lot of families burying sons and daughters thanks to the Brownshirts. The minor gangs will see this as a chance to take over.” The more Spider explained what happened in the Westend the madder Wallace became.
“Damnation. Why didn’t Robert step in and handle this problem before it got out of hand, Spider? It’s not like him to just sacrifice people like that.” Wallace asked.
“When Ripper first organized the gangs, he gave us all the same choice, Captain. We do things his way or we swing on our own. He told us all that he didn’t have time to fight the Cheeseheads and deal with bullshit gangbanger rivalries. The gangs in the north, south, and east ends, along with Whitechapel all got the point hint and followed Ripper’s led on the matter. After the second time one of the Westend gangs pulled their stunt with the minor league gangs. Ripper and the rest of us wrote them off. They wanted to do shit their way.” Spider snarled. “They got a lot of good people killed because of their attitudes and actions.”
“That would explain Ripper’s actions. That boy never was one to put up with ignorant assholes.” Wallace sighed as he saw exactly how things played out in the Westend. “Look, Spider once we get you and your people outfitted with those Fast Attack vehicles you need to get out of the city fast. I know that most the people here are from the Whitechapel area, but we need a Scout Force that we can trust to hunt those Cheesehead units that pulled out earlier.”
“Don’t worry Captain Wallace. Ripper already told us what he wanted us to do. That’s why there only the most senior members of the Whitechapel gangs here right now. Anyone under the age of eighteen is being left behind. What you see here is the core of the five Whitechapel gangs.” Spider turned and waved at the rest of the gangbangers that were gather at the gate to the heavy arms depot and armed motorpol.
“Captain we have the doors open to the depot and secured the keys for the FAVs. How do you want to break things down sir?” Asked a SWAT team Lieutenant.
“Have we gotten a hold of the BR-one-ten keys yet?” Wallace asked.
“Still looking for those sir. If push comes to shove we’ll have to cut the locks.” The Lieutenant answered honestly with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Frack it! Send three men with cutters and start cutting those locks but keeping looking for the keys. I want those BEARS ready to roll as soon as the FAVs are outfitted with their guns. I want one BEAR for every two FAV.” Wallace turned to Spider and the gather gang leaders. “We’re sending you out in Hunter Killer teams, Spider. That’s two Scouts and one Antitank vehicle. The Scouts find the target the antitank kills the target. Understand?”
“We hunt them down and as a distraction. While the big guns of the BEARS turn them into body bag filling. Though I got to ask. Can the BEARS keep up with the FAVs?” Spider asked about the 60ton eight-wheeled BR-110 BEAR antitank armored vehicle. “Do they even have the firepower to support us against those APSs?”
“Against most APSs between Scout to Medium Weight classes they can hold their own. Heavy weight and over up forget it. The same can be said for tanks and other armored vehicles. Remember that Spider. Anything sixty tons and under the BEARs can go toe-to-toe with them. That one-fifty-millimeter main gun of theirs is deadly out to five-kilometers. The only downside is it has to be loaded by hand. It doesn’t have an autoloader. That’s why the BEAR has a three-man crew. Driver, loader, gunner/TC. It’s also why I’m putting my people in them. I hate to say this Spider, but your people just don’t have the training to handle those monsters. They’re one of the most crew intensive vehicles in our inventory. The FAVs are like driving a four-by-four or dune buggy. Which any of you can do.” Wallace explained kindly.
“Prefect for a bunch of newbies like us street rats. Right?” Spider chuckled.
“Pretty much. The downside is they don’t have any armor. Firepower out the ass but no armor. A lightweight man portable machinegun can take out a FAV. Do go getting cocky out there. The Cheeseheads know exactly what it takes to put an FAV into the scrape yard and you into the graveyard. Hear what I’m telling you Spider?” Wallace warned the cocky gangbanger with a nasty grin.
“Find the enemy. Report it back to you guys. Then get the frack out of Dodge. We’re not set up to go toe-to-toe with anything other than light infantry. Does that about cover things Captain?” Spider asked grinning.
“Nice to see that there’s brains behind those baby blues of yours, Spider. Then again you won’t be the top-dog for the Demon Pistols if you were a dumbass.” Wallace chuckled and headed inside the depot. “Come on let’s get you and your people to their rides. You need split up your people into three-man teams.”
“Excuse me Captain Wallace but you said those FAVs were well armed. What did you mean by that?” Asked one of the other gang leaders.
“Here is the data sheet for the FAVs you’ll be using. Read over them as we get you squared away with supplies and ammo.” Wallace turned to the rest of the gangbangers. “Understand something people. Your most dangerous weapon on those FAVs is their radios. Use them. There’s a booklet with each one. Be smart and have just one person operate those radios. They’re your frack lifeline.”
Spider took the data sheets for the FAVs and handed them out to the 20 FAV team leaders. Even Spider was surprised by the vehicle specs.
NV-2G Fury Reconnaissance Car
Power planet: 60-horsepower engine
Drivetrain: 6 speed transmission, 2x4 or 4x4 wheel-drive
Speed: 65 miles per hour
Operational range: 300 miles
Mass: 3,500 pounds (1,600 kg)
Length: 161 inches (4.1 m)
Width: 83 inches (2.1 m)
Height: 79 inches (2.0 m)
Weapons: 1 7.62x59mm twin mounted machinegun, 1 .50 caliber machinegun or 1 .45 caliber Gatlin gun
Communications: 2 PRC 7 radios with frequency hopping or 1 PRC7 and 1 VRC command radio
Crew: 3: 1 driver, 1 Gunner/radio operator, 1 Rear Gunner
Cargo capacity: 20gl water, 300lbs food, camouflage netting w/polls, 200lbs ammo, 100lbs of personal equipment per man, 20gls of extra fuel, tool kit, 2 spare tires, 1 4-man tent, 1 Laser range finder and designator
“Damn talk about a nasty ride.” One of the other gang leaders chuckled. “Only thing these bitches are missing is spinners for the rims.”
“Pull your head out of your ass Switchblade. This ain’t the time for your horseshit. We got maybe three to four hours before the Cheeseheads’ bitch boys show up to try and take this depot back.” Spider snarled as he led them deeper into the motorpol area of the depot. “And if you think the Brownshirts are just going to let us walk in here and take this shit without a fight. You’re fracking ignorant.”
“I hear you Spider. I was trying to lighten the mood bro.” Switchblade grumbled.
“Well fracking don’t. We got our asses on the line big time here. Until now we’ve been able to hit them and disappear into the city streets. Once we leave here our options for hiding disappear. This shit is real in ways we haven’t had to deal with until now. So, you can either fallow the old man’s orders or fracking stay your ass at home. If you take the second option you can deal with Ripper.” Spider snarled.
The threat of dealing with the Whitechapel Ripper was enough to put an end to the bitching by the gangbangers. They all knew that it was safer to deal with the Cheeseheads than dealing with a pissed off Robert Wolff. The gangs had all learned that lesson the fast way. No one wanted to try him. No matter the odds.
Captain Wallace just chuckled as Spider delt with the other gangbangers. “I think I need to have a little talk with one of my old friends in the PDF. That boy is wasted as a gangbanging street thug.”
“Why do you say that sir?” Asked the Lieutenant from earlier.
“Lieutenant Martin that young man is a born leader. If I could, I would ship his ass off world to the nearest Death Dealer training unit.” Wallace chuckled. “If not to one of the Military Academies.”
“That’s some high praise boss for a street thug. What is the deal with this banger that they keep talking about? This Ripper, person.” Martin asked.
“His real name is Robert Wolff. Son of Majors Thomas and Kristine Wolff PDF heroes of Goulcrest. The street gangs of Goulcrest call him the Whitechapel Ripper for a reason. Even as a teenager Wolff was a force of nature. You see the orphanage that his parents died protecting became his home after their deaths. He protected that orphanage from both the cops and the gangs. No one fracked with the kids of that orphanage. Because if they did they faced the Ripper. The baddest fracking gangster in the Whitechapel neighborhood of Goulcrest.” Wallace chuckled.
“You make him sound like some boogeyman of the gang world sir.”
“Because he was and still is their boogeyman. The kick in the ass is he kept the Whitechapel gangs in line better than we ever fracking did. To tell you the truth I don’t know how many times we chased our tails tracking down false leads trying to nail that kid of one of his crimes. Never did pin anything major on him. All of the shit that we did nail him for was nothing more than petty anti bullshit.” Again, Wallace could only chuckle at the look of surprise on Martins face. “Yeah he was that fracking good. Used to drive our Detective Squad nuts.”
“How so sir?”
“They knew he jacked a truck but had nothing to point at Robert. He would go into the dinner across the street and sit down with them to have diner. He would even pay for their meals sometimes.” Wallace chuckled even harder at the look on Martin’s face. “Robert Wolff is a one-of-a-kind Original Gangster.”
“And now he’s a Death Dealer among Death Dealers. Talk about a force of nature that can’t be denied. No wonder you respect the man sir.” Martin looked over at the 60 gather gangbangers. “You know that we’re going to lose two thirds of those teams.”
“I do. Just as they know how many aren’t going to make it back. Those young men and women all know that we’ve pushed the Cheeseheads into a corner. They’re a wounded animal now. The Cheeseheads are going to be fighting to the last man. They know that if they’re taken captive they face more than just war crime charges.” Wallace quickly explained for Martin. “The Cheeseheads are going to fight to the death.”
“Why do you say that sir? They know that we’ll obey the Conventions of War.”
“That is where you’re wrong. For the last two-hundred years the Military Commissars of the Gorgonzola Empire have been telling their soldiers and their citizens that we’ll butcher them in their sleep. Trust me, their propaganda machine is without equal. The crazy part is the citizens know that their Ministry of Information is nothing more than a propaganda weapon.” Wallace chuckled.
“How do you know so much about the Gorgonzola Empire sir?”
“There is an old saying from my father’s home planet. Study your enemy and know all of his ways. It took me awhile to understand that saying. Once I did though. I devoted all of my spare time to studying our nearest enemy. I know more about how the Cheeseheads think than even the Death Dealers. I have more reason. I have always known that they would for our home. When they did, I wanted to be ready for them.” Wallace snarled as he clenched his fist.
“We’ll make you proud sir.” With that promise Martin joined the rest of the SWAT teams as they prepared the B-110 BEARS. The 50ton armored cars would be the backbone of his small taskforce as they tracked down the fleeing Cheeseheads.
Sky Reach Orphanage, Goulcrest
I could feel Penny’s eyes penetrating into my back as I worked on the MT-350E Tomahawk speeder hover bike. I had kept the arms room out of the smaller children’s sight but here I was in the heart of the basement working on a weapon. I would have done this in the arms room, but I needed the space. “I can hear your thoughts Penny. Go on and get it off your chest.”
“Rob, you don’t have to go after the Cheeseheads. You’ve done your part. Stay here with us.” Penny pleaded with me.
“That is where you’re wrong Penny.” I told her as I slammed the engine cover. “I know that you don’t understand. I get that, really I do. You believe that I should just let the Cheeseheads get away from the city and let the Empyreal Military pound them into a bloody stain on the Savanna south of Goulcrest. Only that is not my job. I have to get out there and pinpoint those divisions. If I don’t our people will walk right into their fields of fire. If I do my job right less of our people end up in metal boxes headed for Hades.”
“I should have known better than to try talking you out of something that you saw as your duty. You always were too damned stubborn for your own good. Just do me a favor, Rob.” Penny sighed behind me as she wrapped her arms around my middle from behind. “Come back to us please. The little ones need you now more than ever. When this war is you can lay down your weapons and just a member of our family again.”
“I would love nothing more than to do just that Penny. It’s just not possible. I’m a Death Dealer now. This place has only one use for someone like me.” I placed my right hand over her clasped hands over my stomach. “I was reborn in blood and fire Penelope. My home is now the battlefield. I’m not like Father Mike.”
“What does that mean?”
“There is an old poem that Father Mike left for us in the arms room. I think you should read it. Maybe then you’ll understand what I’m talking about.” With that I pulled her arms from around me and went back to work on the Tomahawk. I still had to mount the speeder bike’s weapons. It had taken me all night to uncrate the heavy speeder bike and put it together. With it going on noon I wanted to finish with enough time to grab some sleep before diner. My enhanced body could only go for so long without the need for sleep before failing.
Penny must have taken me up on my challenge as her heard her voice coming from the arms room. “I was what others would not be. I have seen the world by giving up my home and family. I have seen the darkness in men’s heart of hearts by facing my own. I have known hate at its ugliest. I have seen death in all of her forms and horror. I have know fear beyond what others might. But I would do it all again for the love of country, home, and family if they asked. For you see I was what others would not be. I was a soldier.”
I heard Penny sniffle and stood up straight as she exited the arms room. “Do you really feel that way about yourself, Robert?”
“Penny, I was never like you or the other orphans here. I knew my parents and who they were. I come from a long line of such people. I have a long way to go before I’m ready to take off the uniform. When I do I might come back here or find some out of the place nowhere planet to settle down. I know that there are individuals that want to take advantage of my heritage for political reasons. I can’t let that happen. No matter what else happens in my life. Once I take off my uniform I need to just disappear into the Empire.” I told her about what happened at my graduation and who I was related to as I finished arming the Tomahawk.
I thought her head was going to spin around and pop off when she learned that I was a cousin to Empress Maiha. I chuckled as she had to blink her eyes several times and shake her head when I told her that I was an Owens. That my tie went back through the Owens clan. That my mother was an actual Owens. She knew that my parents were the Heroes of Goulcrest but what I just told her blew her mind. “HOLY SHIT! YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! YOU’RE AN OWENS. Why didn’t they come get you?”
“No one knew. To the rest of the Empire the Owens bloodline on Apollo six died out more than a hundred years ago. Nobody knew that my grandmother survived the bombing of Dornwich. As far as my grandfather goes nobody knows his name. All we know about him is he was a Death Dealer.” I couldn’t keep the sadness from my voice.
“Look Rob. You need to come back to us. Without Father Mike no one else will look out for the orphanage.” Penny was doing her best to get me to stay on Apollo 6. I could tell that she was afraid of what would happen if I left and never came back.
“Penny, I know that you think you need me here to protect you and the other kids. You don’t need to worry about that anymore. You can trust the Whitechapel gangs to protect you and the others. As for no one caring about the orphanage think again.” I knew that with the death of 43rd Airborne Border Division Empyreal High Command will replace them with either one Death Dealer division or three full Regular Army Divisions. That was just the way High Command worked. “Someone will always be here to look after our home. You have my word on that.”
“Are you sure about that? How can you make a promise like that any way?” She demanded as she looked up into my eyes.
“Let’s just say that the Empyreal Army has some rather unique payday traditions. Once the Command Sergeant Majors for those divisions find out that I was raised in this orphanage you can expect a major influx of funding and supplies. Not to mention soldiers coming by to fix things around here. With forty orphanages all across Apollo that means one Brigade per orphanage. Even if every man just put one credit in the kitty the orphanages of Apollo six will never again be short on paying their bills.” I had to chuckle at the confused look on Penny’s face. I leaned down and kissed her on her forehead. I changed my plans for sticking around until diner time when I saw the look on her face.
“I got to go Penny. Do me a favor and open the double doors to the basement. Time for me to finish my mission.” I knew that if I stuck around any longer I would never leave. I had to get moving now or far too many people would end up dying at the guns of the Cheeseheads. It was time to shift from resistance leader to scout. I watched as she walked to the far end of the basement and walked up the ramp to double doors we used to move large furniture to and from the storage areas.
I secured my rucksack to the back of the speeder, then slid my sniper rifle and an assault rifle into the scabbards I had mounted on the front forks of the speeder before putting on my helmet. I quickly mounted the speeder and started the engine. As the bike rose into the air to flout about three feet off the floor I gave her one last look. Penny was standing off to the side of the opening looking at me with a mournful stare. “I’ll come back to you Penny. Promise.”
With that I gunned the engine and flew from the basement of the Sky Reach Orphanage. I don’t know when the last time this speeder last graced the streets of Goulcrest was, but it didn’t matter right now. The machine rocketed through the streets and out of the city in no time. As I exited the city limits on highway A19A I dropped the Tomahawk’s weapons into attack position. They wouldn’t stop anything over light armored recon car, but in a pinch they’ll act as a delaying factor.
I reach up and begin to double check the radio now that I’m clear of the city. I start with my old team’s frequency. “Fallen Angle one to any member this net. Over”
“This is Fallen Angle two. Authenticate Topic Thunder. Over”
“Fallen Angle two, I authenticate, Blue Lightning. Over” I answered quickly after Celest gave me the correct authentication code.
“Where have you been hiding One? Over”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Two. What is your position? Over” I asked hoping they had already linked up with the main relief force.
“Forty klicks northeast of Goulcrest. Route nine-eight-one. Just outside of the Glen Berry National Forest. Over”
“What is your status? Over” I really needed to know my team’s current mission.
“We’re currently holding overwatch on OPFOR for main relief. Over.” When I heard this, I knew that things were finally reaching the last days of the war. The problem for me was not knowing what was between me and my team.
“Fallen Angle two what can you tell me about the OPFOR between Goulcrest and your position along route A-one-nine-A? Over.” My only hope was that highway A19A was clear of any enemy troops. If not I needed to find another way around to them.
“Fallen Angle one, route A-one-nine-A is Bravo Sierra. I repeat Bravo Sierra. It is not cleared for friendly travel. Over”
Shit not good. If the highway I was using was in Brownshirt hands that meant I had to find another way around. “Fallen Angle two, any suggestions for alternative link up route at this time? Over”
“Only one, Fallen Angle One. Double back to route one-nine head north to route two-zero then head east for fifty klicks. Pick up route seven-five then head south to A-one-nine-A and head west. Over”
“Copy that Fallen Angle two. See you four hours. Fallen Angle One Out” I was already turning around and heading back towards Goulcrest. I knew that this detour was going to take me 245km out of the way, but there was no help for it. I wasn’t in a position to take on a large force of Cheeseheads. Not on my own anyway. I needed my team. Until now I’ve been wing shit left and right.
Sure, I was able to get the gangs and cops to work together to drive the Cheeseheads out of Goulcrest. They were even now heading out to track down the fleeing Brownshirt units. They maybe second line troops but the Brownshirts were still a threat. Mainly because they didn’t care who they killed. In their eyes civilians and military were the same. Sense the second week of the occupation they had been waging a war of genocide suppression. I had heard of more than one village being reduced to nothing more than graveyards by them on the orders of the Gorgonzola High Commander.
Of all the enemy troops currently on Apollo 6 the Brownshirts were the only ones that deserved what was coming their way. I know that I should be leading the resistance force that is hunting them down. The only problem is I know that once Captain Wallace, and Spider have the Brownshirts in their sights all thoughts of following the War Accords will be thrown out the window. There will be no thoughts of taking prisoners. Not after what has happened over the few months. I had seen one too many gang members or cops dragged out of their homes only to be gunned down in the streets by the Brownshirts. Usually done right in front of their families. It was pure street justice hunting the Brownshirts. Something that I wasn’t going to get in the way of no matter what the Accords said.
As I took route 19 north I noticed that the pavement was in relative good shape. “Celest can you give me a break down on the Cheeseheads before they pulled out?”
‘Give me a few minutes Robert. I’ll tell right you now that it won’t be an accurate listing. Mainly because the Cheeseheads kept rotating their forces.’
“I’m not to worried about accuracy of numbers right now Celest. What I am worried about is type of units.” I ordered my AI.
‘Oh I get it. You need types not numbers. That is easier. Here you go.’
If I could have I would have kissed Celest as she put up the types of units on my HUD that had been stationed inside of Goulcrest just before they pulled out. I was slightly surprised to notice that there had only been one APS unit. Everything else was either armored or infantry of some type.
“Celest can you give me an estimation for the number of APS units that were in Goulcrest during the occupation?” I asked her quickly.
‘Sorry Robert I can’t. It varied depending on the request from the ICD shitheads.’
“Okay Celest I let’s take this one step at a time. How many times were APS units sent into the city. Next how many times was an APS present during a Brownshirt operation. Lastly how times did the Cheeseheads call for APS support.”
‘Okay Robert going by your criteria. At the most there was a reenforced Combat Battalion of APSs in Goulcrest on a permanent bases. If we break that down further. That is 2 Scout lances, 1 Light Infantry Support lance, 1 Medium attack lance, 1 Heavy attack lance, 1 Fire Support lance, and 1 Assault lance. Taking into account the 4 Scout, 4 Light, 2 Medium and 2 Heavy Lances that we’ve destroyed or disabled during our other operations this would account for two more APS Battalions. Accounting for all of these units there was at least 1 Reenforced Heavy APS Regiment in Goulcrest during the occupation.’
I thought about what Celest just told and grimaced. “Damn. Something isn’t adding up. This roadway should have been more torn up than it is. I know we counted at least eighteen divisions passing through Goulcrest during the occupation. Where the frack did they go? Could they have gone cross-country from the start?”
‘The odds of that happening are 1 in 55 Robert. The Cheeseheads most likely used the railway. Specifically, the access roads that run alongside the rail lines. They could have run clear over to the Eastern coastline with no one spotting them. The only sign of their passing would be a dust near the rail line. Something that the locals would be used to seeing.’
“You’re right. Once they’re out of the railyard no one would see them until the next crossing or railyard. Not good. They could pop out anywhere and any time to attack the relief force from behind, Celest.” I bitched as I traveled the empty road. Ever sense I left the city I hadn’t seen one other vehicle. Nothing, not even another military vehicle. When the road should be carrying at least refugees there was nobody for as far as the eye could see.
I got my answer to this puzzling question just before I reached the turn for route 75 in the small town of Youngstown. At first I didn’t understand what I was seeing. Instead of heading for route 75 I pulled over to the side of the road and pulled out my M-98 Field glasses. What I saw through the lenses turned my stomach to the point that I had to dismount and vomit. Of all the shit I had seen in this war. The sight of that mass grave was at the top of the list. I know that I waged a guerrilla war against the Cheeseheads, but I never targeted their civilian assets. I even made sure that the gangs knew those were off limits.
I remount the speeder and head towards the open grave. That’s all I can call it. As I neared it I could smell the stench of death hanging heavy in the air even through my helmet. Not thinking I reached up and activated the helmet’s purifier. Once I was close enough I stopped the speeder and dismounted. I quickly climbed to the top of the mound nearest the roadway. Once I reached the top and looked down inside I wished I hadn’t. I had passed an information sign at the edge of town giving its name and population. Celest must have been way ahead of me.
‘BY THE GODS! THESE MOTHER FRACKERS DO NOT DESERVE TO FACE A COURT OF LAW! HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO ANOTHER HUMAN, ROBERT?!’
Celest flashed her scan of the open pit before me. There before my eyes was the whole population of Youngstown. Men, women, and children. They were all here. They were all dead. Killed with a single bullet to the back of the head. With the way the bodies were lying in the bottom I could only see one way for this to happen. The population of Youngstown was herded out here and line up on top of the two mounds. Then the Brownshirts lined up behind them. The Brownshirts then shoot the person in front of them in the back of the head. The bodies would fall forward and roll down into the bottom of the pit. The Brownshirts would then repeat the process. They must have done this more than 200 times.
“Celest I can only tell you that the people that did this are not considered human. I know why the Brownshirts did this though.” I told her with a heavy sigh.
‘Why? What would drive those creatures to commit such a hideous act?’
“The people of Youngstown were a minority. Even here on Apollo six were there are more non-mixed raced people than most planets. This whole area is a protected religious zone. The people here followed a faith that dates clear back to the days before spaceflight. This isn’t the first time they were targeted for extermination. I have a feeling that if we examined the other towns that were targeted for extermination we would find they all had the same thing in common.” I told her.
‘What is that?’
“They were all minority enclaves. By that I mean Jews, Slavs, Serbs, Gypsies, Amish, and Jehovah Witness’. Apollo six has had a long tradition of drawing the outsiders to her. Mainly because it doesn’t matter who you are if you try to take this planet. The rest of the population will kick you the fracking balls. Then pull your damned teeth one at a time. We don’t care what your race, creed, or religion, is once you set down roots on Apollo six. You become a part of Apollo six, and we protect our own with our last dying breath.” I had to fight to keep the snarl out of my voice.
AS I looked down into the pit one last time Celest made a suggestion. ‘Robert if we target the mounds on each side of the pit with our PPC they’ll collapse into the pit. It’ll bury the bodies at least.’
I thought about what she was suggesting. It would protect the bodies from scavengers to a point. It would also give them some final dignity in death. The question that I was facing would I be able to continue on with my mission to link up with the rest of the Fallen Angles if I did this. I know that my weapons are powered by micro fusion reactor, but it still took a toll on my body. Could I blast enough earth to cover the bodies and not drop over from exhaustion.
‘Please Robert? We can link up tomorrow. We have to at least give these people what little dignity we can by covering their bodies. We can even mark the grave site.’
“Okay Celest. We’ll do it. Where do I need to focus the blast?” I asked her as I moved to the end of the pit. In answer to my question two red lines blazed to life on my HUD. These lines were 4 feet above the bodies in the bottom of the pit and extended from one end to the other. I deployed my PPC and targeted the first line. I charged my PPC to max and fired. As I worked it down the length of the pit the backside slowly began to fall inward slowly covering the dead. I repeated the process with the wall nearest the road. As the last of the earth covered the people of Youngstown I fell to my knees. After running nonstop for more than thirty plus hours I had finally reached my limit. “Celest is there an empty building near here?”
‘Half a mile down the road is a fuel station with service garage Robert. It should serve our needs for shelter perfectly. At least for one night.’
“Thank you. Can you use the team net to forward our position for the night. Before you grumble I know that you can under normal conditions. Only these aren’t normal conditions. We’re more than a hundred miles away still. Without the speeder’s radio to boost our signal range I doubt you’ll reach them.” I snapped.
‘You’re correct in saying that we’ll need the speeder’s radio to boost our signal. And Robert, thank you for doing that for me. I know I’m only an AI. That I don’t really have a soul and that my feelings are nothing more than programing.’
“Forget about it Celest. You weren’t the only one affected by the sight of that mass grave. Back in school I had a teacher who made sure we studied the ancient wars of the twentieth century. There was more than one occurrence of genocide during that century. It was one of the reasons I wanted to join the Empyreal Military once I was old enough.” I knew that Celest was more than just a Tactical AI. She was in many ways another part of my soul now. What did at this mass grave was for more than just her, but myself as well. “Don’t worry before we leave in the morning I’ll find something to mark this grave site. Something appropriate.”
‘There was that information sign we could use.’
I interrupted Celest when she suggested using that road sign. “NO! If I have to I’ll carve a sign for these people. Just let me get something to eat and about eight hours of sleep Celest. Then I’ll take of everything.”
With that I headed for the road service station. As we traveled Celest linked with the speeder’s radio and contacted the rest of my team. They accepted my new arrival time and gave me their next two over watch positions. After eating cold field rations meal, I laid down next to the speed and sleep the night away. I knew that if anything dangerous entered the area Celest would wake me. At 0530 Celest woke me from my sleep with a warning.
‘Robert there is a recon drone overhead. Three kilometers out and closing. I can’t tell if it’s one of ours or a Cheesehead.’
“Thanks for the warning, Celest. Not that it will matter. Engage full stealth mode.” At my order I felt the built-in defensive system engage. Unlike with the original Second-Generation Death Dealers my stealth system can also be used against thermal scans. The only drawback was I had to sit absolutely still until the drone was gone. If I didn’t I would be spotted. The sound of the propeller driven aerial drone as it passed directly overhead gave me the make and the drones capabilities.
“Disengage stealth Celest. That was an unarmed UAV-eleven Sparrow. At best it’ll have a thermal scanner with a laser designator for artillery.” I ordered her as I stood up and stretched. “That little pain in the ass had to of come from the old PDF stockpile. The only units that use those anymore are FAV and light armor Scout units on Apollo six. If I had to guess I would say that Spider or one of his people put that bird in the air. They’re that easy to operate.”
While I was giving Celest my thoughts about the drone I was also searching the garage area. I found what I was looking for near the back. It was a 4x6 sheet of metal. I took it over to the body repair shop part of the garage and sprayed painted it a white. Once I had the white field I started to paint something I read as a student. It was about some place called on Earth called Treblinka. At the top I wrote the name of the town in the center. Below that I wrote the population. This was followed by yesterday’s date. Finally at the bottom put the words ‘Never Again.’
Once I knew that it was safe to move I mount the speeder and carried my sign out to the mass grave. Using heavy screws that I took from the garage. I hung the sign from a tree near the grave site. It might not be pretty but at least the people of this town will not be forgotten to history. As I remounted the speeder I took one last look at the handmade sign. “Is it enough Celest?”
‘For now.’
-----tbc-----
Warlord Green Star General Steven von Price looked down at the map of the Gorgonzola Empire and their ever-shrinking territory. In the last few months seven of their States had fallen to the rapidly advancing Human Empire forces. The strange thing was those States, and their planets were just surrendering at the first sign of a Human Empire Taskforce. Then there was the disturbing reports of Gorgonzola citizens turning on their leaders. Warlords being drug from their homes and hanged in Government squares or beheaded. The unrest was spreading throughout their nation like an uncontrolled wildfire.
“Damnation. Why is this happening now?” Price snarled as he pounded the table.
“Sir, I have a theory.” A young Intelligence Lieutenant said from behind him.
“Right now, Lieutenant Strauss, I’m willing to listen to anything.” Price snarled.
“Sir, I’ve looked at the planets that revolted. Each one was a strategic planet. A vital point in our supply chain. The Human Empire would have assuredly targeted them for their Special Operations Team Death Dealers. I have studied these teams of Death Dealers, sir. They specialize in turning local populations against the local governments. They are more teachers of warfare than actual warriors. This is their greatest strength. The Human Empire has a name for these type of tactic, it’s one that fits those teams, Force Multipliers.” Strauss explained for Price.
“Shouldn’t the local Warlords have stamped out any type of local resistance long before it grew to such dire situations?” Price asked in confusion.
“Sir, from what I’ve been able to gather these Special Operations teams actually use those types of tactics to increase the numbers of the local resistance fighters.” Strauss took a deep breath because he knew that the next part of his explanation could be considered treason. “Sir, they use our very system of control as a weapon against us. They turn the rightful planetary leaders into villains. It is something that they actually specialize in preforming. The Human Empire is an expert in playing the long game sir. I believe that the Human Empire has been smuggling in teams of the Special Operations Groups for the last three decades.”
“Are you saying that Empress Maiha has been sending these teams into our nation for the last thirty plus years?” Price demanded in shock. “How?”
“Sir this is only a guess, but I would say the Human Empire has been using pirate and other types of smuggler ships to move those teams into our territory. That or an as of yet unknow type of stealth dropship.” Strauss answered honestly.
“Let us assume that they were using smugglers. I doubt the Human Empire endanger something as a stealth dropship using it to deliver suicide troops.” Price snorted.
“Sir, that is a misconception. The Special Operations Death Dealers are not suicide troops. They going into an operational area knowing that they may well die, but they never believe that it is an automatic one-way trip. Another thing about those troops, sir. They’ll fill ten body bags at the bare minimum before dying.” Strauss knew that his commanders didn’t understand the threat that the Special Operations teams presented to the Gorgonzola Empire, and every nation in the Human Universe.
“Tell me something Lieutenant Strauss. How is it you know so much about there Special Operations team Death Dealers?” Price asked politely.
“Sir, before I was stationed here at Arco Dei Gavi, I was a member of the Boarder Evaluation Threat Command. One of my duties there was to study those very teams, sir. I learned a great deal about them and what made them tic. They are not like regular Death Dealers or even the rest of the Empyreal Military. Those men and women are a breed apart, sir. The way they think, and what they believe is not ordinary. They all have this belief in something beyond themselves and their nation. That is the only way I can explain it to you sir.” Strauss tried to explain.
Price sat back down in his chair and looked up Strauss. “Lieutenant did you know the nation that gave birth to our Empire on Earth Prime had similar soldiers? It is ancient history now, but they were known as the French Foreign Legion. They came from all over Earth Prime. They all came for their own reasons. Some were running from criminal charges, some were seeking adventure, others were looking for a new start, while a few were hunting for a reason just to live. Their reasons were many, but they all ended up believing in the same thing. The Legion.”
“Whatever happened to those soldiers sir?” Strauss asked with real feeling.
“No one really knows, Lieutenant. They just faded away into the history books. The last that they were heard from was around the end of the twenty-second century. It was said that during the Fourth Great European War they held their ground to the last man in defense of Paris.” Price sighed and looked down at the table. “What I wouldn’t give right now to have just one battalion of those brave men.”
“Sir, I have a message from the front.” A young privet said as the door to the room slammed open. Price turned and nodded his head. “It is confirmed the following States have fallen to the Human Empire. Hope’s Heart, Grand Illusion, Capricorn Goddess, Goddess Columbia, and Eiffel’s Gift.”
“That makes thirteen out of fifteen states that have fallen. All in just four months.” Price sighed heavily. He looked up at Strauss before waving for the privet to leave them. With the door closed Price stood up and walked towards his office window. “Tell me something Strauss. How do you see the final days of nation playing out? You can be truthful with me.”
“It is not my place.” Strauss began only to have Price interrupt him with a glare. “Then permission to speak freely sir?”
“Given. I want the unvarnished truth from a member of the front-line officers corp. If I want rose-colored opinions I’ll ask one of those sycophants in the outer office. Now get on with it.” Price ordered.
“At the current rate of the Human Empire is advancing our nation’s capital will be under attack in fifteen days. During that time, their Naval Forces will annihilate all but the smallest portion of our Grand Fleet. Maybe ten percent of our forces will remain to defend the capital. I can give you a guess as to the makeup of that Naval force sir if you like?” Price just nodded his head fearing he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.
“Given the current tactics of the Human Empire. The only ships that will remain to defend the capital will be one Supercarrier, two Battleships, and have of their normal escort ships. As for our Battle Platforms, they will have all been destroyed by the end of this week. It seems that while the enemy’s standard Naval and Standard Army forces have been capturing territory. The Death Dealer Battle Groups have been engaged in seek and destroy missions targeting our Battle Platforms.” Strauss watched as Price’s shoulders slowly slummed with his report. “Sir, the reports of the Shinigami Battle being almost indestructible are true.”
“Impossible! Anything made by man! Can be destroyed by man! They may have built and name those monsters after the Death Gods. They’re still just machines!” Price snarled but knew deep in his heart that the Shinigami platforms really were just that much better. No matter what their engineers told them. “How soon until the last of our Battle Platforms are destroyed, Strauss?”
“If I go by their current rate sir. We have maybe fifteen to twenty days at the most. It seems that Emperor James Nakatoma is set on leaving us totally defenseless.” Strauss grunted. “Though the nineth and tenth Battle Fleets might slow them down.”
“It is more than just that Strauss. Our glorious leader and his family has longed believed that they are the rightful rulers of the Human Universe. By that I mean all of the known human universe. The problem is the truth. Of all the nations that currently make up the human universe only one can trace its actual founding to Earth Prime. The Human Empire and their Royal Family. If they wanted they could calm all of the Human Universe legitimately. Until just thirty-five years ago they never stepped out of the shadows. If not for one man’s foolish grab for power the Nakatomas and their allies the Owens would have forever remained in the shadows. They were the true power behind the Dan Royal Family.” The more Price talked about the Nakatoma Royal Family the more Strauss became confused.
“I don’t understand sir. If they have such a great claim to the Human Empire’s throne. Why did they settle for just supporting a lesser Family?”
“The answer to that question lies over five-hundred years ago in the past. I doubt that anyone truly knows the answer other than the Nakatomas and the Owens. There can be no two families that have such powerful ties to the seat of power than they. Yet they never pursued that power for themselves. Both families are true mysteries. Though they went out of their way to protect the current rulers of their nation.” Price could only marvel at the strength of those two families.
“Then why would they take the Thorne after so long sir?” Strauss asked in confusion.
“For two reasons. First because they were forced to. Second for revenge. What little I, known of the two families revolves around a sacred promise that goes back to the very founding of their nation. Before you ask how I know this I too spent time in that area of operation. Only I was further involved. I was an actual deep penetration asset. I studied the High Families of the Human Empire and the politics that revolved around those powerful families.” Price got a faraway look in his eyes. “The pact is to defend. When defense has failed. The pact is to avenge.”
“Damn that is some hardcore beliefs sir. Could those same beliefs be driving the Empire’s current assault on us?” Strauss asked with really worry.
“Most likely Strauss. I wouldn’t have put it passed Empire James to have given personal orders to each and every Command in the steamroller that is currently crushing our forces. The use of seven-forty Core Crackers was just their opening salvo for revenge. The total annihilation of our military and the destruction of their support planets fits with their ideal of Total War. Though unlike our military, theirs doesn’t engage in genocide warfare. What that means is that they do not deliberately target civilians. For any reason. Should there be civilians at a strategic target that is another matter.” Price explained for the befuddled Strauss.
“Then I must revise my earlier estimated time for the arrival of the Empire’s leading forces sir.” Strauss told Price as he grasped the meaning behind Price’s words. “If we go by your analysis of the Nakatoma Family and their military. We have maybe ten to twelve days before the arrival of the first Death Dealer Battle Groups. Though I cannot be certain of that timeline sir.” Strauss explained.
“Any idea of how to present this newest information to our Glorious Leader?” Price snarked then laughed at look of constipation on Strauss’ face. “Don’t worry Lieutenant. If anyone has to face the Exalted Supreme High Chancellor with this latest prediction it will be the Grand Warlord of The Undefeated Divisions, Siriano Leonti’s honor. One that I’m sure he’ll glory in.”
Both men chuckled over Price’s last comment. The knock at Price’s door drew their attention. Mostly because they both knew that only the most pressing of damning of circumstances would have most someone interrupting them. Price called out. “Come.”
A young Sergeant enter the office and saluted the two officers. At Price’s nod he began his report. “Sir, a report just came in from the Galileo Sphere State High Command. Our heavy construction shipyards at Anapus and Caothea have been destroyed. Only one ship was able to clear the yards before they were destroyed. A light torpedo destroyer named the Assassin. Sir the Assassin was destroyed within minutes of launching. She and her crew never stood a chance sir.”
“That it then.” Price sighed. “Our Empire is done. Without those heavy construction shipyards, we have no way of replacing our losses or repairing our damaged ships in time to form even the smallest of resistance.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. That’ll be all for now. Return to your normal duties.” Strauss sighed as he knew that Price wanted to be alone. Once they were alone again Strauss pulled out his com-pad. “Sir, if I factor in this new information.”
“Never mind Strauss. I’ve already figured it out. The Death Dealers will reach our capital planet in less than a standard week. Contact Grand Warlord of the Navy, Amore Sala. Have him meet with me just after lunch at thirteen hundred. After you have done that take the rest of the day off. That’ll be all Strauss.” Priced ordered his aid. Once he was alone in his office Price sighed. “If we’re to save even a small portion of our nation. We have to overthrow Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana and his followers. Operation Blind Redemption is aptly named.”
Lion's Tail Star System
Super Carrier Lady Dai Etsu, Empyreal Naval Fleet
Newly promoted Five Star Grand Fleet Admiral, Lord Danial Cosby stood looking out at the massive fleet that now gathered in the Lion’s Tail. Surrounding his 1st Fleet were the 5th, 6th, 7th, 9th, 10th and 24th Fleets. Not sense the First Succession War had such a massive Naval force been gather by the Human Empire. The sheer firepower gather in this one sector of space was mind blowing. It was also firepower that Danial had used to destroy 80% of the Gorgonzola Navy.
He had gladly let the Death Dealers and Army pound the Gorgonzola Army into a blood smear. All while his Admirals lead theirs Carrier groups on a steamrolling crusade against the enemy navy. More than one Gorgonzola Fleet or Battlegroup had found themselves meat for the grinder that was war. Even with the almost nonstop combat of their operations his forces’ losses were surprising low. He knew that this trend couldn’t continue. “What am I missing?”
“What was that sir?” The current watch Helmsman asked.
“Nothing, Helmsman Stone. Just talking to myself.” Danial sighed then gave his 3rd watch Helmsman a nasty smile. “Before you say it, Stone. Yes I know that is the first sign of going insane. That only applies if I answer myself.”
“Yes sir.” The young Ensign chuckled. Most of the 3rd watch bridge crew were surprised that the Grand Fleet Admiral was even this far forward in a combat zone. The crazy thing was he was even walking the Command Deck during their watch. “Sir, I know that this is going to sound stupid. Is there anything we can help you with?”
“Not really Ensign Stone.” Cosby told the young man honestly. Then he remembered a quote from a famous Admiral of the 20th century. “Then again in the words of an ancient blue water Admiral. ‘Some of the best advice I've had comes from junior officers and enlisted men.’ Have any of you observed our low causality rate?”
“Aye sir.” Came from almost every member the bridge crew.
“I know that you all have your own ideas on the matter. Ones that I want to hear. So, we’ll go Round-Robin around the bridge stations starting with Helm. Let me have it people.” Cosby called out. “Oh, and ladies and gentlemen. No idea is off the table. I don’t care how far out there your idea is.”
“Aye, sir. We understand. Seeing as how I opened my mouth I’ll be happy to start off. The one thing I’ve noticed about the Gorgonzola ships is the way they maneuver. As a Helmsmen we have to qualify more each class of ship before we graduate. The Gorgonzola ships are slower and have problems making turns. It’s almost like their thrusters cannot handle the load of combat maneuvers.” Stone said from his position.
“You’re saying that during combat they become vulnerable during normal evasive drills? You’ve got to be shitting me, Ensign.” Cosby snarked.
“Sir, Ensign Stone maybe onto something. We’ve been going over the recordings of our engagements with the enemy in my spare time. There is a pattern to the enemy losses. While our carriers, battleships, battlecruisers, and cruisers, all maneuver slightly better than their enemy counterparts. It is the smaller destroyers, frigates, and corvettes that really outshine the enemy. These smaller ships are just faster and more maneuverable in every way. The actual number of enemy kills for our fleets belong to them.” The Ensign in charge of Tactical commented. “There is also something else sir. I hope that Engineering can back me on my hunch. The actual construction of the enemy ships is substandard to our own.”
“Substandard is a fracking understatement, Beth. Chief Collins of the Lady Fuyuko grabbed some of their hull metal. Every Engineer in the Fleet has been poring over Chief Collins analysis of that crap.” The Engineering Ensign grunted then swiveled around in his chair to face Cosby. “And sir, I do mean crap.”
“Explain, Ensign Hall, and use terms that the rest of your fellow shipmates can understand. I know how Engineers get when excited.” Cosby chuckled as did the rest of the 3rd watch bridge crew.
“To put it simply sir. The armor of the Gorgonzola Fleet is for shit. Unlike our armor which is made of multilayered composite armor theirs is barely better than a homogeneous steel composite. Most of the Chiefs have been trying to figure how they can even keep their ships from decompressing from the first hit.” As Cosby listened to the young Engineering Ensign the more he realized that the young man might have a theory behind the lower grade construction of the enemy ships.
“Ensign Hall, from the way you’re talking you have a theory for the discrepancies. Care to share it with the rest of us?”
“Well sir, it’s only a theory, but I believe that when they lost their main ships at Ryan’s Run thirty-five years ago they also lost their access to higher grade construction materials. Things like dura grade ceramics, Boskine glass, and in all actuality Cheylium construction steel. Without those the Cheeseheads lack the needed resources to manufacture composite dropship armor, sir.” Hall answered quickly.
“Hold up here Mike. Why would they lose their access to those three materials? Couldn’t they just ship them to their new heavy construction shipyards?” Asked the Ensign assigned to the Communications station.
“You can ship those types of materials between planets without increasing the cost of construction. By the way it would become extremely prohibitive. Not even we could afford those costs, Terry. The only reason we can afford to build on the level that we do is where our shipyards located.” Mike chuckled.
“That explains a few things. Anyone else got an idea as to why our losses are so low?” Cosby asked of the young bridge crew.
“Just one, sir. It concerns their operational strengths, sir. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but the Cheeseheads operate in a one-three formation. Where we operate in a far more traditional one-two-one diamond formation. We also use a wheel formation for our convoy units. Never allowing one ship to be singled out by the enemy ships. While at the same time allowing them to provide fire support to one another.” Lieutenant Senior Grade Alice Holmes suggested for Cosby.
“Correct me if I’m wrong Lieutenant, but isn’t your Combat Station in Tactical Operations?” Cosby asked her with a slight smile.
“Yes sir. I normally report to Lieutenant Commander Dorchester during combat ops. I’ve had more than one chance to study the enemy’s tactical operations. At first I was confused by the way they kept shifting their smaller ships to the rear of their formations. Instead of moving them towards the flanks as we do sir.” As the young tactical officer explained her thoughts Cosby could see it playing out in his head.
“By the gods of battle. I need to fire every one of my staff and promote you lot in the damned places.” Cosby snarled. “Thank you ladies and gentlemen. You’ve all been able to see shit that people with years of experience failed to see.”
“Sir, one more thing before you leave for the night.” The Weapons Officer duty said stopping Cosby as he turned towards the exit. “It concerns the actual Cheeseheads weapons and targeting systems.”
“What do you have Guns?” Cosby asked with a nasty smile. He was liking where this impromptu Command Staff briefing. The thought of talking to this group of hard chargers more often crossed his mind.
“During our last engagement I noticed something strange about the impact of their weapons. None of them were nearly as effective as our own. Their actual efficiency is around seventy to eighty precent of our own. Where our main guns, especially those of the battleships penetrate to their inner hulls on the first hit. Theirs barely peel the paint. It normally takes them two or three strikes in the same area to penetrate our outer armor layers. Also, sir I’ve noticed that we have been able to engage the enemy at a greater distance. Usually by several kilometers.” Cosby stood stock still as the young man discussed the enemy weapons.
“What about their railguns, missiles and torpedoes Guns? What can you tell me about those? Is there a range and performance deference there as well?” Cosby asked quickly. He really wanted, no needed, to know.
“Yes, sir. They have to be ten kilometers closer for their missiles and twenty for their torpedoes to have a reliable lock. Their impact and explosive power is also a third of our standard Mark-seventy-eights. More along the line of a Mark-forty-one or forty-two. Something the Army would mount on their helo-attack craft. As for their missiles I have to say the same thing. Somewhere along our SAM-forties. Nowhere near our SAM-eighty-ones. As for their railguns I have to be honest. They’re barely better than a one-twenty smooth bore. As for the kinetic impact. I can only say that the autocannons on our fighters have more punch, sir.”
“Lieutenant what is your name?” Cosby was actually embarrassed at not recalling the young man’s name.
“Lieutenant Junior Grade, Steven Strum, sir.” He answered quickly.
“Before the end of watch Lieutenant Holmes, I want you to write up everything that was discussed here this evening and send it to all senior command staff. By that I mean every department head on this damned ship. I want those above you to know exactly what they’ve been ignoring. Every last one of you have been able to answer questions that have been plaguing the shit out of me and them for the last week.” Cosby ordered as he looked around the bridge. “It seems that those words from long ago still hold true for today. The best ideas come from junior officers and enlisted men. You can expect to see me more often ladies and gentlemen.”
With that Cosby left the bridge. Little did he realize how he late night talk would impact the lives of the bridge. In years to come long after Cosby retired those young officers would be using him as an example on how to be a leader of men.
Howel’s Solar System, Human Empire
Everfoot Harbor Shipyards
Shipyard Manager Gram Whittemore stood passively at the observation dome of the central control tower. His sole purpose for being here was to watch the launch of Empyreal Battle Platform EBP-78. The massive ship would undergo several weeks of shack down cruses before being handed over to the Empyreal Fleet. The sound of his aid’s cough drew Gram’s attention. “What is it Dale?”
“A request for information from Grand Fleet Admiral, Lord Danial Cosby, sir.”
“Why would they Empyreal Naval Commander be contact us?” Gram asked his aid.
“It concerns a possible connection to the construction methods and materials of the Gorgonzola shipyards. It seems that there are massive discrepancies in our current Naval War Book. Some that are so far off that there is no way our Commanders in the field that are running into unexpected victories. It is throwing off their tactical calculations. According to the Admiral it is his hope that we might be able to clear up these discrepancies before he can continue with his campaign.” Dale explained for the Yard Master.
“Damn. Did he send a list of those discrepancies?” Gram asked in surprise.
“Yes sir. And I have to admit that the list is quite long.” Dale told him as he hand over the message from Admiral Cosby. “Sir, one of those discrepancies concerns the use of homogeneous steel composites for the construction of warships.”
“Did you say homogeneous steel composites being used the construction in warships? Are they fracking mad?! They might as well be using tissue paper to cover the farms. The only thing that crap is good for is civilian cargo ships.” Gram grunted.
“Yes sir. That is exactly what the reports reads. Sir, could the Cheeseheads use of homogeneous steel composite armor actually affect the performance of their ships?” This was a troubling thought for Dale as he was actually thinking of making the suggestion to the materials as a cost cutting measure.
“In more ways than just protective plating Dale. You seeing homogeneous steel flexes under stress. Under normal conditions such as landing or liftoff through atmosphere you need that flex. That makes it perfect for civilian cargo dropships. Yet the stresses of combat are far from ideal. The high-g maneuvers that ships in combat must perform exceed the tolerances of homogenous steel. You’ll notice that we only use multilayering of ferro-fibber, ceramic composite, and dushiulium steel in the construction of the Shinigami. However, we also use the same process in all other class of ships that come from this yard. The only deference is we use graytrium steel instead of the dushiulium because of cost.” Gram explained kindly for the younger man. “Graytrium cost about a tenth of dushiulium.”
“Why is that sir? I know that both metals are easily mined. Not too mention in great abondance within this asteroid belt.”
“It’s the smelting process that separates the cost of the two metals Dale. The two metals maybe in abondance and easy to mine, but the temperatures it takes to metal just one ton of dushiulium are twice that of graytrium.” Gram informed his aid. “I think that you need to spend some time with Mr. Thorn over in our foundry. Along with some time in Design, and the actual Docks under one of our Yard Supervisors.”
“Why do you say that sir?” Dale asked in confusion.
“Dale, you’ve seen nothing but the Management side of the business here. I know that you’re well educated. It is one of the reasons I hired you, but you lack firsthand experience of the yards and what we do here. That being said, you’re still one of the finest aids I’ve had in years.”
“Thank you sir. Though I do have another question. It concerns our usage of the ceramics and ferro-fibber in our armor.” Dale began only to stop as Gram chuckled.
“I’ll go ahead and tell you now. Those two additional items reinforce the outer hull materials. Both of which can become overstressed without that reinforcement. Take some time and review the construction details of the ships we build here, Dale. Start with the corvettes and work your way up through the classes. It’ll be a good knowledge base for you in the future. One that will be more useful than you realize right now.” Gram explained then looked back out the observation window. “For now, I need you to contact Master Shipwrights Cocks and Henderson. Tell them that they are to meet me in one hour. They’re to bring all their data on the Gorgonzola ships and their construction methods.”
Five hours later a highly compressed data packet was on its way to Grand Fleet Admiral Cosby. In that packet everything the Yard Master and every Shipwright had been able to theorize about the ships of the Gorgonzola Empire. They had completely rewritten the War Book for that nation. What that august body of men would never realize was how many lives their contribution would save in the rest of the war.
Eiffel’s Gift, Gorgonzola Empire
Flag Ship Storm falcon, The Beam Nebula
Four Green Star Admiral Beachem Noisome looked out the forward view screen of his carrier’s command deck. He could not believe what he was seeing. Out of a fleet of over 200 ships he was down to just 85. Most of those were destroyer class and below. The greatest loss was his Battle platform, Revolution. He still could not believe that he had been forced to abandon ship during their last battle.
What he couldn’t figure out was how those Human Empire scum were able to destroy his ship. He knew that the New Castle Battle Platforms were supposed to be on par with the Empire’s Shinigami. Yet it was as if the weapons of his ship weren’t even peeling the damned paint on that monster. Then there were those damned corvettes of the enemy fleet. They swarmed in tight to his ships delivering deadly torpedo and missile fire. The enemy battleships just stood off blasting gaping holes in the battleships and carriers of his fleet. None of what he witnessed during the that battle made any sense to him.
“Sir, I have the final report from the fleet.” His XO said as he stepped up to stand beside him. “Sir, it’s not good.”
“Just tell me our situation, Number One. No need for commentary.” Noisome snapped.
“We have maybe four to five weeks of operational supplies. If we refuse to engage the enemy. We can stretch that to seven weeks at the most. There are currently nine ships in the fleet that will need to spend time in the repair docks or with a repair ship. If our docks or repair ships are still operating.” That last part was delivered in a whisper so that only Noisome could hear.
“Understandable Number One. We can only hope that is the reason of our Navy is faring better than we are. If not then our Empire is done for. Please continue with the report.” Noisome asked trying to keep from sighing in defeat already.
“Yes sir. The status of the Carrier Crosswinds can be upgraded to combat worthy. They completed their repairs during the third watch. Carrier Southern Cross will being transferring her fighters and bombers later this morning. Captain Thunderbird as sent over the last of his repairs. The ones that cannot be completed without a repair ship or dockyard.” The XO lowered his voice once more. “Sir, the Southern Cross is damaged to the point that our only option is to scuttle her.”
“Is the damage that heavy Number One?” Noisome asked not wanting to lose another ship under his dwindling command. When his XO nodded his head Noisome sighed and gave the order. “Have Thunderbird being transferring his people to the Crosswinds and the other ships in the fleet. Strip the Southern Cross of supplies than can be used by the other ships. Spread them among the fleet.”
“That’ll take time sir. Time that I doubt we have.” Noisome’s XO answered honestly. “It would be better to just transfer the supplies and let the Southern Cross’s crew land her on one of the nearby planets.”
“As much as that sounds appealing XO. We need those personnel. Too many of our people are dead or wounded. Now give the order to begin the transfer of those supplies and personnel.” Noisome ordered harshly. “Once that done we’ll move into position and scuttle her ourselves.”
“Yes sir.” The XO had answered just as a warning klaxon sounded across the bridge. “Oh shit! They’ve found us again.”
“It seems that our Devil and their Demons are yet dancing to the Fiddler’s tune, Number One. Sound the call to battle stations. We might as well go down guns blazing.” Noisome sighed and looked out at the forward view screen. There before his eyes were the blazing lights of hundreds of hyper jump gates opening. He knew the fleet that was coming through those gates vastly outnumbered his own.
“SIR! WE HAVE INCOMING TRAFFIC FROM THE ENEMY FLEET!” The Coms Officer called out.
“Put it on the forward monitor Coms.” Noisome order and waited for the inevitable order from the enemy commander to surrender. When the screen showed the face of Admiral Danial Cosby Noisome knew that his fleet’s time has at an end. “Welcome to Eiffel’s Gift Nebula. I take it by your communique that you wish to offer terms?”
“You could say that Noisome. By the War Conventions we are required to offer you terms of surrender. Personally, I hope you refuse the terms.” Cosby snarled.
“What are your terms, Cosby?” Noisome asked to the astonishment of his crew.
“Unconditional. You and your crew will abandon your ships in the next hour and a half. I will allow you time to scuttling charges for your ships. If our scans are accurate your ships are barely combat operable to begin with. You have fifteen minutes to make your final decision. Cosby out.”
“Well ladies and gentlemen. We have a choice to make.” Noisome said as he looked around at the bridge crew. “Do we fight to the end or spend the rest of the war as guesses of the Human Empire. I’ll be honest here people. Our chances of survival are slim to none. We’re outgunned and outnumbered. Our chances of resupply are just as slim. We currently have four to five weeks of operational supplies. As for our munitions those are down to one or two engagements. Our carriers have lost more than two-thirds of their aerospace fighters and bombers. Our forward Scouting ships are gone. To be blunt the only way I can see out of our current situation is to run. Even if we run it won’t be for long. As it is we’ll need to abandon the Southern Cross, Far View, Bikini Atoll, and Legionnaire.”
“Sir I think I can speak for the crew of Strom falcon. We accept their terms. There is no glory in dying for a lost Empire.” His XO told him honestly. “AS for the other ships and their captains I’m sure that if you put it to a vote. They’ll be the first ones to raise the white flag.”
“Very well we’ll put your suggestion to the test. Coms contact the other ships.” Noisome ordered. When they were all on the forward view screen Noisome got straight to the point. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Human Empire has found us. They have also offered us terms of surrender. We have one hour to reply. How say you?”
Thirty minutes later very escape pod, shuttle, and captain’s skiff was clearing their ships. It wasn’t long before HES Battlecruisers Arapahoe, Comanche, and Blackfoot began rescue operations. At exactly 60 minutes following the last captain’s skiff lunch the Storm falcon exploded. She was rapidly fallowed by the Crosswinds and Southern Cross. Only one ship remained. The supply ship Mersham that quickly became the home for the wounded members of Noisome’s fleet. Those men would soon be jumping out to the nearest Gorgonzola held planet. The rest of the fleet members were being held board the 3 HES Battlecruisers in their cargo holds as POWs until they could be transferred to an Overlord class dropship.
Arco dei Gavi, Capital City, San Vitruvio, Gorgonzola Empire.
Empyreal Throne room
Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana could only sit and stare at the map of his dwindling empire. In the last few weeks, the fortunes of his Empire had drastically changed. How could those whores the Nakatoma’s accomplish this great military victory with such a small military. Everything his spies had told him told him that they didn’t have the military force to move against him.
“Can someone please explain to my why the Human Empire haven’t run out of supplies by now? I gave the Nero Orders weeks ago. They should be starving aboard their ships. Yet they keep marching across our Empire as if their supplies lines mean nothing to them. They’ve destroyed more than three quarters of our fleet. What is going on here? Why can’t we stop them?”
“We’re still trying to understand what exactly is going on sir. Our greatest handicap is the lack of communication between High Command and our Defensive Forces. Without the State Capital Planets to confirm and relay orders the rest of the PDFs are only defending their home planets. Most of those have been overrun.” Grand Warlord of The Undefeated Divisions, Siriano Leonti slowly explained for Juliana. Only to have Juliana erupt in a blind rage.
“WHAT?! By whom? The Empire would have to drop twenty-five combat divisions on every planet they come to! They don’t have the forces to achieve this kind of rapid nonstop conquest. Where the hell are these troops coming from?”
“Sire, it is our own people that have turned on the PDF troops and their rightful Planetary Overlords. The Ministry of Intelligence has proposed a reason behind this sudden disturbance among our nation’s population.” Leonti told his Emperor.
“What is it? Tell me how our people could turn against their rightful rulers?”
“Over the last thirty years the Human Empire has been smuggling their Special Operations Death Dealer teams into our nation. These teams special in destabilizing local governments and leading resistance cells. It is their belief that it has been teams such as these that have led to the revolts on several our planets over the last three decades. These same teams are even now leading our people in open revolt against our Overlords.” As Leonti gave his report Juliana seethed with rage.
“Please explain to me Leonti. Exactly how could it be possible for the Human Empire to smuggle in that many of these Special Operations teams?”
“The same way that they were able to drop twenty-four of the Seven-Forty Core Crackers on our State Capital Planets, sire. They used corvette class freighters and pirates ships. These small yet versatile ships are the perfect vessel for such operations, and many, many, more. I could send all day listing the number of types of tactical operations this ships can perform. Over the years we have tried to repeatedly copy their design.” Leonti sighed and looked down at the report from the Ministry of Intelligence. “But our shipyards have failed repeatedly.”
“Why is that Leonti? We have spies within their shipyards don’t we?”
“We have spies within their shipyards sire. That is not the problem. The problem is their Design Bureau keeps the actual designs for their corvette class ships under the strictest of security. With the heavy dockyard security there is no way for our people to actually photograph the construction of the ships.” Leonti explained as he tried to keep his own anger in control over the situation.
“Leonti, how long before we can expect to wait until we are under the guns of the first Shinigami, or will they just send their carrier groups to end the war?”
“If the predictions supplied by the Ministry of Intelligence are to be believed, sire. We have less than fifteen days before San Vitruvio comes under direct attack. I have had my staff run multiple combat scenarios. I have the results of those scenarios sire.” Leonti said knowing that Juliana wasn’t going to like them.
“What are they?” Juliana asked heavily.
“Depending on how the enemy comes at us. The outer planetary defense ring will fall within one to two hours after their arrival. Four hours after that each major city will come under orbital bombardment as they’re Assault Dropships land at designated targets across the planet. Before the end of the day, they have predicted a told of one-hundred-and-fifty combat divisions of the Human Empire will have swarmed our planet. Of those fifty will be Death Dealers.” Leonti told Juliana. “Sire, that is more than three to one odds in the Human Empire’s favor. If we add in this new tactic of theirs. The odds jump to almost eight to one in their favor.”
“What new tactic?” Juliana asked with concern.
“Thirty years ago, the Human Empire started to use their destroyers, frigates, and corvettes as fast attack aerial artillery units. The ground forces have a direct line of communication with those ships. Should they encounter will intrenched enemy positions. These commanders call in the position and those ships drop down from orbit. They pound the enemy position into glass.” Leonti told his Emperor honestly. Leonti watched as the color drained from Juliana’s face as he told him who first pioneered the tactic. “The War Princess Allison was the one to first use the tactic during their last War of Succession during the Battle of Bulwark Mountain on Seth. It is said that the War Princess wanted to use Battleships for the attack.”
“By the Gods of Battle! Is she insane? I know that the Dowager Empress was known for unconventional and unorthodox tactics. I would even expect that from her, but not the War Princess.” Juliana grunted in shock.
“Sire, the whole Royal Family of the Human Empire is known for thinking outside of the conventional box for tactics. Even the current Empress is unconventional. According to our spies her combat record is only equaled by the Commander of their escort squadron. I have to be honest sire. Our chances of surviving a direct attack by the Human Empire and their Death Dealers is next to nothing.” Leonti knew that his next comment could lead to his own death. “I suggest that we abandon the capital sire. As long as you survive our Empire survives.”
“Leonti you are many things. The first of which is honest. The second is a formidable tactician and strategist. You’re one of my finest Generals. Yet you’re a man born of war and the battlefield. You’ve never been a political animal. While your suggestion has great merit. It fails on one fundamental point. Should I abandon the Capital where can I go? How far can I ran? The Human Empire has already shown a that they will hunt me down no matter I run. Even as they hunt down our once might fleet destroying them one at a time.”
Juliana stood up from his chair and walked across the room to stand by the window. “I shall wait my fait right here. When the Death Dealers come I shall join our forces on the battle front. I shall make them pay for every inch of ground they cover with their lives. I shall not be like those fools from history who let their people die needlessly while they sat safely in a bunker. Then in a last act of defiance take my own life in an act of cowardice.”
“I shall see to our defensive arrangements, sire.” Leonti turned and left the ruler of the Gorgonzola Empire to his thoughts. He knew something that no one else did within his nation. The Death Dealers of the Human Empire were more than just a military force. They were the will of their rulers. That will has now been turned on his nation for the soul purpose of its destruction. As he closed the door behind him Leonti lent words to his thoughts. “I shall that you die gloriously on the battlefield Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana. Your death shall become one of legend among our people and among our enemies. Not even they shall be able to hide your death from the history books.”
“What was that sir?” Asked the secretary at currently on duty.
“Nothing, Lance Corporal. Just talking to myself. Please contact the local PDF Commanders for me. I need to talk with them immediately. Inform them all this shall be a working meal and they are to bring along the Tactical Equipment Lists and Wartime Reserve Modes with them.” At Leonti’s very blunt order the Lance Corporal just blanched but carried out his order. Leonti after giving the order Leonti headed for his own office to gather TEL and WRM. “This has been a long day and this evening isn’t going to be any shorter. The Hounds of Hell are coming to San Vitruvio. May God help us all. Because even Juliana has accepted his fate.”
-----tbc-----
Chapter 20
Northern Continent, Front line. Apollo 6, 2345 local time
Human Empire Command Post.
Maiha sat quietly on the foot of her 100-ton SA-7B Katana. In one hand she held a hot cup of coffee the other was the newest Intel on the Gorgonzola Navy. The more she read the more her confusion grew.
‘Okay sister what’s got your panties in a twist this time?’ Dee Dee snarked in the back of her head.
‘AS much as I detest my older sister’s vulgar comment. It is accurate Commander. You’re more upset over this new data that is acceptable.’ Charlie commented.
‘I doubt that you two would understand, but I’ll tell you anyway. This report goes a long way in explaining why those Cheesehead ships fell so easily to our fleet. It also might explain why their APSs are dropping like rocks after just a few hits. Even their Assault Class units should be able to stand up long than they are, yet our Medium and Heavy Class APS are tearing them apart.’ Maiha answered her twin AIs as she took a sip of her coffee. Setting the report down Maiha Nakatoma, the first Dowager Empress, pulled a pack of Imperial Black cigarettes from her APS pilot’s jacket pocket. After lighting her cigarette, she leaned back against the ankle of her war machine. ‘What I don’t understand is why are they using such cheap materials. I know I targeted their shipyards and heavy war production planets. Yet they’ve hade more than twenty years to rebuild.’
“Pondering the greater mysteries of the Universe my student?” The voice came from nowhere and would normally cause a person to jump. However, after more than 30 years of having this happen to her Maiha just snorted as the Reverend Mother Katsumi chuckled in the darkness.
“You one of these days someone is going to shot you in the ass for pulling that Ghost shit of yours Reverend Mother.” Maiha chuckled and hand the only woman older than herself on the battlefield. Not even Maiha knew exactly how long Katsumi was and the old nun refused to answer questions about her age.
“The only fool on this planet or any other to try that is sitting in front of me.” Katsumi retorted before lighting her own cigarette. “So, tell me has you sitting out here in the dark with just coffee and cigarettes for company?”
“Have you read this report from the Navy about the construction materials used by the Cheeseheads Katsumi?” Maiha asked waving the report.
“I have. I also have a theory that might answer those questions running around in your head. The biggest of which is why are the Cheeseheads using such cheap shit to build their APSs, tanks, ships, and other war stock. I hate to say this, but the answer is a simple one. Natural Resources.” Katsumi answered honestly.
“Okay what the hell does that mean? Didn’t they have the access to the need natural resources that we do?” Maiha asked her in confusion.
“Sadly, the answer to that is no. Most of the planets within the Gorgonzola Empire are parallel earth types with negligible resources. By that I mean most of the resources that can be found on those planets are not in the exotic category. By that I mean the ones that we use for our war stock construction. Of all the nations we’re the only one that is blessed with over thirty systems holding the needed natural raw resources. All of the others might have twelve or fifteen at most. The Cheeseheads had even fewer. We destroyed four of them in the last Succession War.” The more Katsumi laid out her thoughts for Maiha. The more the younger warrior understood the true situation within the Gorgonzola Empire.
“Let me guess. The Cheeseheads have been bluffing the rest of the universe for the last thirty odd years. Why didn’t I see this at the start? They never needed Apollo six by itself but all of the Highwinds system and the border region.” Maiha just sighed taking a drag off her cigarette. Exhaling the smoke Maiha looked up at the night sky. “Tell me something Katsumi. Is there any way to end these constant border clashes or is the human race doomed to eternal conflict?”
“There is a passage in the Ataraxia Codex Maiha that I came across in my younger years of study. I fear is the only answer I can give to your question. According to Ataraxia, revolution, war, and peace, these are the three beats of the Endless Waltz known as history. The human race is a violent race by its very nature. While peace may reign for a while it is but a dream. There shall always be conflicting ideals.” Katsumi leaned against the foot of Maiha massive war machine. “Even in our own Empire we have conflicting religious and political believes.”
“Telling me something that I don’t fracking know.” Maiha spat. “The day I stepped down from the throne I almost felt sorry for James. Then I got handed that report from the House and Parliament. After that I was more than happy to leave the Empire in his and Terresa’s hands.”
“Yet it is that very system of Government that allows our Empire to survive in peace. Each planet has their own voice in Parliament. They set the laws that govern our great nation. The House of Lords maybe smaller but they are charged with the duty of raising the funds that support our government. The Empyreal Royal Family may hold the final say in all matters, but even you must answer to the people. Our last great defense against a total dictatorship within our nation is the Supreme Hall of Justices. They ensure that all the laws passed within our nation can stand the test of time and the Scales of Lady Justice.” Katsumi countered Maiha. Then looked up at her one-time student. “Of all the rulers that I or my sisters advised over our long years of service. Only a few have ever stood as special. Of those few Maiha, you and Allison stand head and shoulders above the others.”
“Would you believe that I spent most of that time on the throne winging it?” Maiha asked with a snide chuckle.
“Knowing you the way that I do. Yes.” Katsumi chuckled along with Maiha. “Though I’m not really surprised by that statement. You always were one to react the situation as it present itself.”
“What can I say? I’m a soldier first and politician second. Always have been, always will be. We both know that I only parked my ass on that throne out of duty. I know that I tired to give James the tools to be a better Emperor than I was ever Empress.” Maiha sighed honestly. “So far he has lived up to his training.”
“Maiha, I hate to tell you this, but he is more like you than you like to admit. Of all your children, only young Richard has ever been a true politician. The day that James appointed him to be the Speaker of the Hall of Lords was a stroke of brilliance. Richard can charm even the most stubborn of Lords or Ladies.” Katsumi chuckled. “James’ place is on the throne and at the front leading our people.”
“Speaking of James. Have you seen the report he sent over?” Maiha asked.
“Yes.” The snarl was barely kept from the Reverend Mother’s voice. “I truly fear that once the word gets out about those ethnic mass graves. The harder it will be to control our own people. Only the troops with Emperor James are Death Dealers. Those that comprise our forces are all mercenary troops. As such they don’t have to abide by the orders of Empyreal High Command. Your orders are another matter. Though they might just take the penalty and break their contract. If they do that they’ll be free to hunt down the Cheeseheads in their own way.”
“And there is no guarantee that they’ll abide by the War Accords should that happen.” Maiha grunted as she lite another cigarette. “This war is about to become very personal for a lot of these men and women.”
“What do mean, my student?” Katsumi already knew what was going through Maiha’s mind. She had seen it the eyes of more than one mercenary.
“Those mass graves will be the trigger event for the whole sale slaughter of the Cheeseheads. It won’t matter what I try, there is far too much bad blood between us and the Cheeseheads to overlook those graves.” Maiha sighed as she thought of how those mercenary units would react.
“What of your fellow Apollo six citizens?” Katsumi asked knowing of Maiha’s ties to the planet and its people.
“Let’s just say that there is a reason that Apollo six has given us more Death Dealers than any other system in the Empire. Once word gets out among the population about those graves nothing will stop the screams for blood. There is a saying on Apollo six about revenge Reverend Mother. It is a dish best survived cold in a hot blood sauce.” Maiha chuckled as she thought about life as a child on Apollo 6. “And the people of Apollo are very hot blooded.”
“Tell me something Maiha. How did Apollo six become such mix of cultures? I mean sense we’ve been on planet I have seen at least nine deferent ancient earth cultures.” This question had been plaguing Katsumi for the last few days.
“It actually goes back to the very founding of Apollo six. The Greeks might have been the first settlers here, but they were quick to welcome others to their new home. Yet those Greek settlers remembered their own history as the first Democracy. Unlike most other planetary systems there was no High Family backing for that founding. Only in the last hundred years have the High Families been able to worm their way into the planet’s actual government.” Maiha explained as she recalled her birth planet’s history. “One of the conditions in the planet’s constitution is that no culture be turned away as long as they agree to one simple condition. Live and let live. That ideal is what drew all the other cultures to Apollo.”
Maiha sat forward on the foot of her APS smiling to herself as she let her memory fall back to her schooldays. “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed, by their Creator, with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness. I know that those words sound flowery and all not to mention they were taken from the Constitution of a long dead Earth Prime nation. Yet they hold a special meaning to the people of this planet. They’ve also been a guideline for me. One that I’ve held a very special place in my own heart and soul.”
“One that has guided you through a great many challenges over the years. I take it?” Katsumi asked with a small smile. Maiha just nodded her head. “I can see where this ideal can become a foundation for more than just a way of life.”
“It was. It became the founding principal for one of the greatest nations of ancient Earth. One that became a true Superpower and World Leader.” Maiha smiled as she thought about that once great nation then sighed as she remembered what happen fallowing the turbulent 20’s and 30’s of the 21st century. “Sadly, that nation tore itself apart in a civil war that eventually lead to the Third World War. It took more than a hundred years for Earth and that nation to recover.”
“What led to their civil war?”
“The same thing that leds to most civil wars. Politics.” Maiha snorted. “Ignorant political beliefs held by people too damned stubborn or stupid to actually sit down and talk with each other to work towards common goals.”
“Is that why you pushed so hard for the changes in the Parliament and Hall of Lords?” Katsumi asked Maiha with a knowing smile.
“In some ways. Yet it was those words that remember from my childhood that drove me to make those changes.” The more Maiha talked about the changes she had made the more Maiha wanted to get back on the topic of the war. “The rest is up to James and Terresa. They’ll be the ones to lead our nation forward. Right now, I need to end the Battle of Apollo six. Not mention keep the mercs from going rogue.”
“A tall order under normal circumstances. Thought not one you haven’t faced before.” Katsumi chuckled as she considered all of the Dowager Empress’ past achievements. “The only advice I can give is to do what you always have. Lead from the front. You are after all the first, First High Lady of the Death Dealers. You are Death’s Own Daughter. The most feared woman in modern history.”
At the very mention of her old nickname a savage glow lite Maiha eyes. “Time to remind the rest of the universe of that fact.”
Carswell Town limit, Route 94
I stood still as the blood pounded in my ears. The gore and blood dripping from my Close Quarters Combat blades was thick as frozen molasses. I looked around me at the carnage that I had unleashed over the last twenty minutes. I don’t know what had come over me. Yes I do. I just don’t want to admit that I had lost control again. I’d rolled up on the Brownshirt CID unit in my mission to linkup with my team. They were nothing more than a light infantry unit. They might have stood a chance against a normal Death Dealer, but I’m not normal.
They were in the process of moving the people of Carswell towards a massive trench dug alongside the roadway. I should have just turned and run. But the COBRA os took over thanks to my emotional overload of rage. I barreled into the CID unit killing every Brownshirt I saw or could reach with my combat blades. The ones that were out of reach for my CQC blades I burned down with my antipersonnel lasers. Their transports were destroyed by my PPC and PPL. Even as their assault rifles were turned on me I didn’t care or feel anything. The small high caliber rounds were just not enough to penetrate my bio-armor.
My rage over what these monsters had done fueled my attack. Now that my blood lust and thrust for revenge had been satisfied I felt hallow for some reason. This wasn’t like the last time COBRA os took over or the other times. Until now I’ve basically been able to keep my emotions from triggering the os to a point. I’ve been an emotional person. I’ve kept them bottled up for most of my life.
‘Tell me something Robert. Have you always this cold and emotionless?’
‘To a point. To be honest with you Celest I’ve been forced to bury my emotions from a young age. I had to if I wanted to survive. The streets of Goulcrest would have eaten my ass alive if I hadn’t. It’s one of the reasons that I earned the street name of Ripper. The other reason was my preferred weapon.’
‘I take it that your preferred weapon was a knife?’
‘You could say that Celest. I always carried either my mother’s or father’s combat knife with me everywhere I went. The local gangs learned the hard way that I knew how to use knife. I learn that the gongs only respected strength and emotionless efficiency. So that’s what I gave them.’
‘This last engagement truly has you unsettled, Robert. Why? Who cares if you gave into your need for revenge? Until now you have been the personification of the professional soldier. Why let this one engagement unsettle you?’
‘Because I let my emotions get the better damn it! I’ve busted my ass to live up to Father Mike’s example. He was what all real professional soldiers should be. I let him down. He would never let his emotions get the better of him like I did.’
‘I think I understand Robert. Yet I must point out that you’ve upheld his ideals in even this last engagement. Before you contradict me let me explain. Granted you gave into your emotions and need for revenge. Yet you still controlled the COBRA os to a point. You didn’t become an uncontrolled killer. You only targeted the Brownshirts. If had truly lost all control the civilians would have been targeted as well. You even stopped the Brownshirts from using the civilians as human shields. You gave the Brownshirts nothing but took from them everything. These is the way of the professional soldier in battle.’
‘Find whatever Celest. I got to deal with the town mayor right now.’ I told her as I watched the man walk towards me. I wondered what was going through his head.
“Excuse sir. Are you part of the relief force?” The man asked nervously.
“No. I came in as part of a Special Operations team just after the start of the war. Until a few days ago I was helping with the resistance in Goulcrest. I’ve been trying to linkup with the rest of my team.” I answered him honestly.
“Well on behalf of my town thank you for saving us. Have the Brownshirts been clearing out other towns?” He asked.
“Yes sir. I don’t have any information on exactly how many towns were cleared out though. I know of only one other town, but I’m sure there has to be more.” I really didn’t want to tell this man that his town had escaped a possible gas attack. Tigger had informed me that the Black Saints had been on a one team seek and destroy mission for the last few weeks. They’ve hunted down and destroyed nineteen of those Chemical Weapon Units to the last man. “I’m just trying my best to link backup with my team. They were supposed to have been head in this direction according to my last update but that was two days ago.”
“That must have been the Death Dealers that came through here yesterday. Are you Warrant Office Robert Wolff?” He asked me with a bright smile.
“Yes sir. Did my give you an indication as to where they were headed next?”
“According to the acting team leader to White Haven. Just take route forty-one south for sixty miles, then route one-twelve east for eighty-one miles. I’ll tell you now. There is a Cheesehead Command unit operating in the now. They moved through here late last night. If you need more information I can get the man who identified the unit to talk with you.” The mayor explained.
“If you don’t mind, sir. The more intel I have to work with the better my chances of surviving this war in one piece.” I chuckled.
“Gunther get over here!” The mayor yield at a man in a Forest Ranger uniform. “The Death Dealer needs to know about that Command Unit you saw last night.”
“That wasn’t a Command Unit Yohan, you dumbass. I told you that was a Fire and Control unit for a Field Artillery Unit.” Gunther snapped at the mayor. Then turn to face with a frown. “Unless you got a satellite uplink on that Tomahawk partner. You’re out of luck. They’ll hear your ass coming long before you can get in range for your weapons to do them any harm.”
“I wasn’t planning on engaging them myself Ranger. I just need to know what is up ahead. I’ve already had one unexpected run in with the Cheeseheads. I just want to linkup with my team.” I almost snarled.
“If you’re talking about that team of Death Dealers that rolled through here don’t try. There is at least three other combat units between you and them. I counted two High Mobility Infantry battalions, and one armor battalion on route one-twelve. Your team is most likely POWs by now.” Gunther grunted with real honesty.
“You don’t know my team Ranger. If they’re anywhere near those units. They’re sitting back radioing in the positions of the Cheeseheads. They live for this kind of shit. Give them an inch, they’ll take a mile.” I told him with the same honesty.
“Then all I can say is good luck.” Gunther said with a wave as he turned to walk away. “Because you’ll need it in more ways than one.”
“Thanks a lot Ranger.” I called out to his retreating back. Then once he was out of ear shout. “What an asshole.”
As I turned and headed for my Tomahawk I picked up the sound of another Speeder headed in my direction. From the sounds of the engine, I could make up the make of the Speeder. It was another Tomahawk. Though this one wasn’t weighted down as heavily as mine. If I had to guess this one was the lighter Scout version to my Mobile Infantry version. The main deference between the two was firepower. Mine had more pure and simple. The Scout made up for its lack of firepower with speed.
‘Robert I have an unknown signal trying to make contact with us.’
‘What is the frequency and call sign Celest?’
‘It’s the Emperor’s hand frequency and the call sign is Blackjack. Holy shit! Robert that crazy fracking cyborg survived the occupation.’
‘No surprise there Celest. That woman has more lives than a damn Rigel six long tailed bobcat. Patch her through.’ I waited for Celest to connect me to Blackjack with a chuckle. “Nice to hear from you Blackjack. Happy to see you’re still among the living. Where the hell you been hiding?”
“Oh, fracking eat my shit you two timing, good for nothing, floor flushing, gangbanging, street rat. When I get my hands on you. You’ll be praying for death. Do you know what I had to go through to get my hands on a damned Speeder that was fast enough to catch up to you? I won’t even begin to go into what that little girl back at the orphanage put me through. You’re an asshole!”
I couldn’t help it as I started to chuckle then laugh as I could actually picture what Blackjack had gone through with my friends. Most of whom were diehard gangbangers and cops. People not used to trusting anyone from outside of Apollo 6. I won’t even go into what Penny would have put her through. Penny may be small, but that girl is fisty and fights dirty.
“Sorry about that Blackjack. I really am. From the sounds of it you’re just around the bend from where I am currently. Having you seen the Carswell Town limit sign yet?” I asked her as the sound of her Speeder grew louder.
“I just passed it, Ripper.”
“Then start slowing down. In about fifteen-hundred feet you becoming up on a blood-soaked ambush site. I kind of lost it and killed a company of Brownshirts. I fill you in on all the details when you get here.” I told her as I neared the road’s edge. I wanted to be where she would see me and my Speeder. As my feet touched the road surface I heard the sound of a second then third Tomahawk speeder. Blackjack wasn’t alone. “How many friends are riding with you Blackjack?”
“Just two, Ripper. We were trying to hide our numbers by riding single file and using the dampers. How did you pick us up?”
“Did you forget who you were dealing with here Blackjack? All my normal senses are jacked up to fracking stupid levels. I once I heard you coming I was able to sort out the other two speeder engines.” I told her as I looked towards the bend that block my view of the town limit. I started to chuckle as the three MT-350 Tomahawk speeder hover bikes rounded the bend. “Where the hell did you get your hands on that many Tomahawks on short notice?”
“I stole them from the PDF motorpol on the southside of Goulcrest. It’s not like they were going to use them anytime soon. The Brownshirts executed the whole Infantry Battalion these Tomahawks belong to. Ripper what the hell are you standing next to? Is that and open grave?” Blackjack asked bluntly.
“It will be once the citizens of Carswell get around to dumping the bodies of the Brownshirts in it.” I told her honestly over the radio as the trio pulled to a stop in front of me. I could tell by body type who all three were. Blackjack was the only female and riding a MT-350S Scout Tomahawk. With her riding a MT-350A Attack Tomahawk was Spider. The MT-350A was the heaviest of the speeders and carried the most firepower of all four. The last speeder was another MT-350E like mine and its rider was Captain Wallace. I wanted to chuckle at the sight of the old man riding a high-performance hover bike. “Damn Wallace. Weren’t you the one that always said only fools or dumbasses ride hover bikes?”
Wallace just chuckled as he pulled his helmet off. “And a fool is riding this damned thing, Ripper. Because only a fool would ride something like this into combat.”
“Damn. Ripper we’ve been trying to track you ass down for the last few days. Why did you split like that bro?” Spider asked after he had his helmet off.
“Look you guys have done your part. Goulcrest is free. Go home. You don’t need to place yourselves in further danger. From here on out this is a job for professionals. People and assholes like me.” I told all three harshly.
“I hate to tell you this Ripper, but I can’t let this go bro. In that last battle with the Cheeseheads I lost two thirds of my members. The Demond Pistols never let something like that go. The Brownshirts fracking owe, and they’ll pay in blood.” Spider snarled as he spat on the ground. “We were the only ones to take heavy losses at the hands of the Brownshirts. What’s left of the Whitechapel gangs have spread out from Goulcrest to hunt down those frackers.”
“The same can be said me and my people Robert. Of my original complement of two-hundred officers only eighty-two remain. The core members for the gangs not to mention my people are using FAVs and BEARs in hunter/killer teams. Only the three of us set out to find you. Penny told me where you were headed. She also told me what you planned on doing once you linked up with your team.” Captain Wallace grunted then looked me in the eye. “Dying a glorious death on the battlefield is for the fracking stupid and ignorant, Robert. You were raised better than that.”
“Who said anything about me dying a glorious death on the battlefield?” I asked sharply. “If I wanted that I could done it months ago.”
“Then why the frack are you operating out here in the open on your own?” Blackjack asked of me with a knowing look in her human eyes. It still weirded me out to see her in her prosthetic skin at times. “Because only a fool hunting metals pulls something like this you shithead or are your hunting revenge?”
“Neither Blackjack.” I snapped.
“Then why the FRACK did you attack a full company of Brownshirt Infantry, Robert?” Captain Wallace demand of me. “Only a fool bent on revenge or glory does something like this asshole. You’re smart than that.”
“This was a nothing more than the fog of war. I rounded the bend and came under fire. The next thing I know I’m in the middle of a firefight with a company of light infantry. I had to go all out to just to keep my ass in one piece.” I know that I was lying to a point. Spider and Wallace weren’t cleared to know about the COBRA system. Blackjack just gave me a slight nod of understanding. She knew exactly what had happened the moment I came under surprise attack. “They paid for their mistakes with their lives. I don’t care what the odds are I will always fight to survive. Just ask Spider how many hitters sent to the morg.”
“More than any other gangster on the streets of Goulcrest. Ripper is the Original Gangster of Gangsters. We paid a heavy price learning to leave him and the Sky Reach Orphanage alone.” Spider chuckled heavily. “Not to mention all the other orphanages in Goulcrest. That was the Brownshirts’ biggest mistake.”
“No Spider. Their biggest mistake was fracking coming to Apollo six in the first place.” I snarled as I mounted my speeder. “IF you’re set on following my ass. Then we need to get moving. We still got to find an F-n-C for an Artillery unit.”
“What’s an F-n-C?” Spider asked.
“Fire and Control unit. The heartbeat for a Division level Artillery Unit. All targeting and fire commands go through these units. If there is an F-n-C out there somewhere it needs to be found and destroyed.” Captain Wallace answered. “It won’t be a heavily guarded as a Division level TOC but it will be guarded.”
“Just how important are these types of units, Ripper?” Spider asked as the four of us slowly worked our way through Carswell.
“TOC or Tactical Operations Command units are priority one targets, Spider. You hit them and you stand a good chance of disrupting the chain of command. Hit a C-n-C or Communications and Control units you disrupt the enemies communications. There is a whole list of target units that I could go over Spider that hurt the enemy’s ability to wage war. Just remember that there are more ways to hurt an enemy army than just taking out their front-line troops.” Blackjack answered for me as we passed the people of Carswell walking back to their town. “Ripper do you have any idea of why these people were targeted by the Brownshirts?”
“The town of Carswell was founded by Joseph Smith the twelfth as part of the Latter-Day Saint religion. Though from what I understand the people of Carswell are more of an offshoot of the actual LDS church. They hold to certain beliefs that the rest of their faith don’t. The biggest of which is the whole polygamy thing.” I snorted over the speeder radio team network. “Most of the men in this town have four or five wives. One of their core beliefs hold women just above slave level. They’re more property than actual people in the eyes of their faith.”
“From the tone of your voice Ripper you don’t hold these people and their faith in high regard.” Blackjack chuckled.
“Let’s just say that Ripper might have let the Brownshirts kill this town if he knew who he was saving.” Spider told her before I could say anything. “These frackers used come into Goulcrest and the major cities to find teenage girls in the orphanages. They would ‘adopt’ those girls only so they could be used as wives once they were back in Carswell. The gangs put a stop to that shit a few years ago.”
“The gangs weren’t the only ones Spider. More than a few of my officers discouraged the ‘good’ people of Carswell from coming into Goulcrest.” Wallace chuckled evilly. “Ripper’s not the only one who would have happily let the men in that town die.”
“Yet your planet’s constitution protects their twisted religion. Talk about double standards.” Blackjack sighed as we exited Carswell. “But I guess it’s better than most planet constitutions. That and your people actually believe in those laws.”
“It’s one of the few things about my home that actually makes it worth saving.” Spider grunted as we road through the countryside. “Though Carswell might be one of the few places we ignore that law because of their bullshit.”
I decided to leave the matter of Carswell and it’s people alone for now. “Frack them assholes. We got a F-n-C to destroy.”
Forward Command for 68th Grand Expeditionary Freedom Forces
Field Commanding General Erick Yost last of the Commanding Officers for the 68th Grand Expeditionary Freedom Forces could only grind his teeth in frustration. All of their plans had been for nothing. Their fleet was nothing more than scape metal floating in space now. Their subjugation forces reduced to a mere handful of platoon sized units. Even their front-line units were now nothing more than a combination of ragtag thrown together in a futile effort to push back the mercenary army of Empress Maiha Nakatoma and the Combat Divisions of the 1st Death Dealer Battle Group under Emperor James Nakatoma. His forces were so outnumber that it wasn’t funny.
“Sir, incoming message from the forty-first Calvary.” A young Lieutenant called out to him from over at the Communications station.
“What does Lieutenant Colonel How what now?” Yost sighed.
“He reports that his unit has come under attack from Ground Attack Aerospace Fighters. He’s requesting fighters support to drive over the enemy fighters.” The Lieutenant answered quickly as he off the report.
“Damn. Do we have any fighters near the area to supply the needed aircover?” Yost asked with a heavy sigh. He already knew that they most likely didn’t.
“No, sir. The nearest fighters are more than an hour away at Killion airbase.” The second the Lieutenant answered Yost knew that the 41st Calvary Regiment was done for. Her knew he needed to do something to save the 41st. The question was what.
“Sir the first battalion of the one-eleventh ADA can be in position to provide close air antiaircraft fire in twenty minutes.” Said the last remaining officer of the F-n-C that was acting as the forward Command post.
“Send them.” Yost ordered as he stepped over to the map table. As he studied the map of the front-line trace Yost realized something. “Belay that order Captain. Redirect that ADA unit to grid four-nine-six-two by eight-seven-two-two. Have the second battalion enforce them. They’re to setup an air interdiction zone.”
“But sir! If we do nothing the forty-first will be lost!” The Lieutenant confronted Yost. “We have to do something!”
The bullet that smashed through the Lieutenant’s forehead was only milliseconds ahead of the gunshot’s crack. As he put away his pistol Yost growled in annoyance. “Anyone else want to question my orders?”
When the rest of his meager command staff said nothing Yost snorted. “Get that cowardly piece of shit out of here. I will not have my orders questioned again.”
“Sir my I have a moment of your time outside?” Asked the Artillery Captain. Yost knew that if he wanted to maintain some form of discipline he had to agree.
Yost waited until they were both far enough away from the tent to confront the Captain. “Alright Captain let’s hear it.”
“Sir if we let the forty-first die without sending any form of help there is a good chance that the rest of the Command Staff will revolt.” The Captain knew he was on thin ice with Yost. Yet he had to worn the man.
“It’s not like I have a choice in the matter, Thorn. Damn it! I know that I just sentenced the forty-first to death.” Yost sighed then explained his reasoning. “But those ADA units will be too late to save them. They’ll only become targets for those Ground Attack Fighters as they setup in support of the forty-first.”
“More likely for the Empire’s own Artillery Units or their damned Corvette dropships sir. Speaking of their Corvette ships sir. They haven’t begun their normal operation of supporting the ground attack. It makes no sense.” Captain Thorn point out.
“Most likely because neither the Empress Maiha nor Emperor James have reached our main battlements. Once that happens we’ll be lucky if half of our forces survive.” Yost told the younger man honestly. “Those two ADA units are the only ones that have a chance at stopping those Corvettes. That’s why I’ve ordered them to those grid coordinates. Once Death Own Daughter hits our trenches she’ll call down those Corvettes or something heavier. Those two ADA units are the only chance at stopping those ships. As small as that chance is it’s our only hope. Other than surrender.”
“Sir, are you really thinking about surrender?” Thorn asked in shock.
“If we’re going to save any of our men. It may be the only way.” Yost didn’t want to tell a front-line officer exactly how bad their situation was, but he had to talk with someone. “Thorn what I’m about to tell you most go no further.”
“You have my word sir.” Thorn answered quickly.
“First we’ve been cut off from the High Command for the last few months. We have no way of contacting them. Also, there will be no relief force for us. Our nation has been overrun to the point that our capital is within striking distance of the Empire’s main fleet. More than three quarters of our Empire is in open revolt. They’re actually welcoming the Human Empire forces on some of our planets. If it hadn’t been for a highspeed currier dropship that landed just before Death’s Own Daughter touched down I won’t know that much.” Yost could tell that Thorn was having problems grasping the full situation. “We’ve lost this war, Thorn.”
“Damn. How could we fail? We are the superior nation.” Thorn demanded.
“You shouldn’t have believed the propaganda, Thorn. Here is the truth behind the lies. The Gorgonzola Empire has been bluffing the rest of the universe for the last two hundred years. As strong as our military appeared it was nothing more than a paper tiger at best when compared to the Human Empire. If we had attacked Balzac Imperium Dictatorship we would have stood a chance of winning. Seeing as how they are the only other nation that we share a border with they were the only real threat. The Human Empire could have conquered us long ago.” As Yost was explaining the facts of life for Thorn he pulled a map out of his pants pocket. “Here take a look at the galaxy map of nations. Tell me what you see.”
“Sir, is this map accurate?” Thorn asked in shock. Yost just nodded his had yes. “How could have the High Command lied to us for so long?”
“It was easy for them, Captain. They have kept the truth hidden from our people for so long that seeing that map is a Capital offence.” Yost chuckled. “If one of our surviving Political commissars should catch us with that map. He would be forced to kill the both us. Just to keep the truth from getting out.”
“But sir. This map shows two nations not on any of our official galaxy maps. Not to mention that the Human Empire is almost twice the side of any other nation.” Thorn was having the hardest time at grasping what he was seeing.
“Of course, it does. I found it in the Goulcrest City Library before the Political commissars purged the building.” Yost told the younger man.
“Sir, can I make a suggestion?” Thorn asked as he realized how deadly this scarp of paper was to their lives. “Burn this before Commissar Yates sees it.”
Before Yost could respond the scream of incoming artillery stopped all conversation. The impacting rounds exploded deep in the ground and in the air overhead. Neither man saw or heard the artillery shell that end their lives. The Fire and Control unit that had been acting as Yost’s Forward Command Post was reduced to nothing more than shattered bodies, smashed vehicles, and shredded tents in a matter of minutes. Even after the unit was rendered useless as a Command Post the shelling continued. The resulting death and destruction of this one unit would have far reaching consequences. Consequences that the instigator of the would never realize.
Woodline overlook, Route 112
If Celest hadn’t picked up the radio signals when she had we would have rolled right on that F-n-C. With what I was seeing in the clearing below that firefight would have been more that a little one-side in favor of the enemy. Thankfully this part of the countryside is one of the most heavily wooded areas on the Northern Continent. The underbrush and old growth trees damped the sound of our engines as we worked our way through the woods. At first I was only going to bypass the F-n-C. That was until Blackjack told me she had a direct link to the 1st Death Dealer Battlegroup’s Command post. I thought I would shit when she showed me the man portable satellite communications unit.
In all of history innovation had birthed weapons of tremendous power and terror. The first of these was the bow and arrow. Then there was gunpowder. This led to guns, cannon, and finally machineguns. Spotter balloons led to airplanes, which led to fighters and bombers. Until the tank first appeared on the battlefield artillery was the king of battle. Yet these weapons were not enough to satisfy man’s blood lust for soon chemical weapons graced the battlefield. These weapons led to the advent of the atomic bombs. Weapons of terrible power that changed how the world view war. With each innovation though there was one constant truth. Without a target those weapons were worthless. Communication has always been the greatest strength and weakness in battle. The Fog of War was more than just a saying but a fact of the battlefield that commanders were forced to deal with constantly through history.
To this end they developed hundreds of methods for long distance communication. Flag corps, signal fires, drum corps, signal arrows. All of these were used and many, many more. Then came the greatest innovation in warfare. The portable two-way transmission radio. These marvels of the mid-twentieth century transformed the way battles were fought. With almost instant contact between a commander and the forces under his command the Fog of War was returned to the realm of chance. It was exactly that which now placed me in position to rain down hellfire and brimstone on the enemy F-n-C. in my hands was the most dangerous weapon on any battlefield. The modern satellite uplink man portable radio.
“Delta-delta-black come in. This is Fallen Angle actual. Over” I knew that Death Dealer command would need authentication if they answered. I had Celest already looking up the day’s challenge and password.
“Fallen Angle actual this is Delta-black-three. Authenticate Thunder Road. Over”
“Black-three I authenticate E Street. Over” I knew that they would give me a ration of shit at the minimum for being out of contact for so long.
“About damned time you made contact Fallen Angle. Where the hell have you been? The last report we had you were dead. Over”
“Let’s just say that it’ll take more than a battery of KT-105 Requiem Gatling Cannon to kill my ass, Black-three. Spent the last few months giving the Cheeseheads hell in Goulcrest. Hopefully you can provide a helping hand with a current problem. Over” I was hoping like hell there at least one Field Artillery unit within range. That or an MLRS unit that could drop a few warheads on that F-n-C.
“What you need Fallen Angle? Over”
“Artillery strike at grid seven-seven-five-two by two-one-six-eight. Target is F-n-C in the open. Over” I knew that I would have to give them more info if they could provide the strike depending on the unit.
“Copy that Fallen Angle. Hold for Thunder-six. Over” Not the response I wanted but I could deal. I mean if you’re going to call in an artillery strike go for the big guns, and nothing is bigger than 16in Long Toms. Thanks to Celest I knew that Thunder 6 is the call sign for the Colonel for 6/78th Field Artillery. The main weapon for this is the M-36 Long Tom Cannon.
“Fallen Angle one this is Thunder-six. Over”
“Thunder-six stand by for fire mission. Over”
“Send your traffic Fallen Angle. Over”
“Fire mission grid seven-seven-five-two by two-one-six-eight. Target is F-n-C in the open. Mix load. HE quick, with Beehive. Eight round saturation mission. Over” I knew what I was asking for was overkill but in the words of my cousin. There is no such thing as overkill. Only open fire and reload. These words ran through my mind as I waited for Thunder 6 to repeat the fire mission back to me.
“Fire mission grid seven-seven-five-two by two-one-six-eight. Target is F-n-C in the open. Mix load. HE quick, with Beehive. Eight round saturation mission. Over”
I gave the only order I could. “Send it! Over”
“On the way! Time on target one mike. Over”
One minute later the first rounds impacted dead center of the F-n-C. “Target! Fire for effect! I say again. Fire for effect! Over!”
“On the way! Observe and report! Over”
I sat back against the nearest tree watching the massive shells land in, around, and on the F-n-C for the next ten minutes before I called a halt. “Thunder-six cease fire. Target destroyed. I say again cease fire. Target destroyed. Over”
“Copy that Fallen Angle. Target destroyed. Last rounds in bound now. Over”
As the last rounds impacted I verified their impact. “All rounds accounted for Thunder-six. Total destruction of F-n-C. Over”
“Copy Fallen Angle. If you find any more targets. Contact call sign Red Hook six on tac nine-nine-four. They’ll relay you to the appropriate unit. It’s been a pleasure doing business. Thunder six out.”
“God Damn, Ripper! What the hell did you do?” Spider asked as he studied the carriage below through a pair of field glasses.
“I called in the big guns, Spider. The biggest guns on the planet.” I snarked.
“I thought you were only going to call in an artillery strike. Not a naval bombardment Robert.” Captain Wallace grunted.
“I did, Captain. Those weren’t naval cannons that hit the target.” I chuckled.
“Then what the hell were they?” Blackjack demanded.
“Those were the M-thirty-six sixteen inch Long Tom Cannons of the sixth of the seventy-eighth Field Artillery. Better know the rest of the military world as the Empress’s Harbingers of Doom.” I chuckled as Wallace and Blackjack both facepalmed at the flippant way I answered her question.
“I got to ask Ripper. Do you doing anything anymore by normal standards?” Spider wanted to know as he gave me a strange look.
“Sure, I do.” I answered with a half-smile. “Normal by Death Dealer standards.”
-----tbc-----
Chapter 21
Outer Jump point, San Vitruvio System, Gorgonzola Empire.
Bridge of the Shinigami Battle Platform Katsumi, 22nd Death Dealer Battlegroup
Lady Saris Victoria stood in the shadowed area behind her command chair looking out the forward view screen. There before her was the home planet of the Gorgonzola Empire and the heart of the enemy. The fires of hate burned deep in her heart for this nation. While her home planet of Wallachia wasn’t part of the Highlands System, Gorgonzola border zone, it too had been the target of the Cheesehead aggression in the past. It had been in one of those attacks that she had lost her sister and brother. That was forty years ago.
“It’s fracking time for payback.” Lady Saris snarled quietly to herself. “XO bring us about. Set course for San Vitruvio. Full speed ahead.”
“Aye, aye, sir. Navigation plot a course for San Vitruvio. Engineering full power to the engines. Coms, signal the fleet to move out. Also inform all carriers to standby to launch all fighters, and bombers. They’re to clear out those Cheesehead carriers before they can get one bird off their decks. Guns get a lock on those DPF satellite platforms. Don’t give them a chance to fire a single missile. Get a move on people. Assholes and elbows.” Even as the XO was giving out the orders to attack San Vitruvio all throughout the fleet ship captains were giving their own battle orders. The 22nd Death Dealer Battle Group was about to rain down death and destruction on the Capital Planet that had start this war.
Super Carrier Lady Dai Etsu, Empyreal Naval Fleet: other side of the system.
Daniel Cosby could barely contain his smile as the last of the seven combined fleets entered the San Vitruvio system. “Number One has the twenty-second begun their attack on the inner system yet?”
“Lady Saris just gave the order to move in sir.” Daniel knew that his XO wanted to be in on this attack more than any other officer in his command. “The rest of the fleet is ready to support them, sir.”
“Then give the order Number One. Time to end this war.” Cosby ordered coldly.
“Aye, aye, sir.” His XO turned to the bridge crew and began to issue orders. Cosby just turned and left the bridge. He wouldn’t be needed for a few hours. No, that time would come when they reached the inner system. When what remained of the Cheesehead Navy moved to intercept his combined fleet.
“Sir, incoming telex message from the Katsumi.” When Cosby hear this he stopped dead in his tracks. If the Lady Saris was sending orders contradictory to his own he needed to be on the bridge. “Messages reads. To Lord Danial Cosby. Congratulations on your promotion. We’ll raise a glass when the fighting is over. Lady Saris Victoria, First High Lady of the Death Dealers. PS Good hunting.”
“Coms, send the following reply. TO Lady Saris Victoria. I’ll have the saké warm and the beer cold. You bring the whiskey. Save a few Cheeseheads for us. Lord Danial Cosby Admiral of the Grand Fleet. PS Good hunting.” Danial ordered then turned back towards the bridge exit. “Number One, I’ll be in my quarters until we reach combat range. We should have about eight to twelve hours before the Cheeseheads realize that hell is a train head straight for them.”
PDF System Outer Picket Satellite Station 45
Joseph Agular looked up at the only bright spot on his sensor console. The centerfold pinup from Empyreal Armed Forces Monthly. “Yeah David, do you think that Miss April really does have a double DD cup?”
“Most likely Joe. You do know that the Commissars for AFM have an unlimited budget for that rag of theirs. I wouldn’t put it pass those slugs to surgically augment their models.” David Yates grunted as he turned from his own sensor console to face his watch partner. “Then again that picture could be nothing more than a CG print.”
“Ah man.” Joseph whined as he pulled down the pinup with a heavy sigh. “You just had to go and ruin it for me. Its most likely CG. After all I doubt they would go so far as to augment a woman for a centerfold.”
“Joe I won’t put it passed those slugs to drag some flat chested fourteen-year-old girl into a surgery for just that. Do you really think that there’re that many women in the Empire with bodies that good looking?” Joseph grunted. “There is something else you got to remember. More than half of the girls in those mags are juvenal delinquents out on parole.”
“What the hell are you talking about David?” Joseph asked as he looked over at David. “It’s against the law to enlist juvenal delinquents.”
“Hate to bust your dream bro. The people over at AFM have a freehand in producing those damned rags. They can draw from anywhere in the Empire to produce those rags. Do you know why my ass is sitting out here on a four-man picket satellite instead of a ship of the line with my analytical skills?” David asked his partner.
“I figured you were like everyone out here bro. Doing a standard six-month rotation then heading out for your next assignment.” Joseph answered honestly. It wasn’t like he actually thought about why David or any of the others were out here in this basically go nowhere assignment. Joseph knew why he was here. He looked at something he shouldn’t have and now was paying the price.
“Joe I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Seeing as how you have only been here for two months. Every man or woman out here on the earlier warning picket line is being punished for something. We’re the last stop before Carman’s Rock. Every last one of us on the sixty picket satellites are one step away from military prison. We’ve all made mistakes that the higher ups couldn’t send us to Carman for, but they had to do something to punish to us.” David sighed. “Whenever someone reaches the end of the punishment they get shipped out sure. The only problem is that none of them stay in the military. They’re all discharged.”
“Wait a minute. Are you saying that I’ll be here until the end of my enlistment?” Joseph asked in shock as he had five years to go on his current enlistment.
“Yup. Welcome to your last duty station my friend. Whatever you did to piss of the high ups most have been a good one. Not that it matters around here. I’ve been out here for two years. Sue has been here for three years. Beth has nineteen months. Don’t worry though. By the time it comes for me to ship out someone will be here to replace me. They never let these stations go understaffed for long.” David chuckled as he stood up and stretched. “Look at it this way. At least you know where you’ll be for the next few years.”
The explosion that ended their conversation and their lives came as a total surprise. The other two crew members died in their sleep. PDF earlier warning picket station 45 was the first of fifteen such stations to die that hour. The F-25 Vindicator 1000lbs skipper torpedo was the Human Empyreal Navy’s newest and greatest secret weapon. The main reason for this is its stealth capabilities and its ability to be deployed from Corvette class dropships. Over the next three hours every last PDF EWP station was destroyed. Of the 238 personnel manning those stations only 4 would survive the attacks of the Vindicators.
Ready room of the Shinigami Katsumi
Saris looked at the system map displayed in her privet holo tank with the eyes of a conquering general. In her lamp Saris held a laptop with a listing of all her assets. From the Battle platform under her feet to number of fighters and torpedo bombers aboard the carriers. Next came the number and type of ground units under her overall command. Between her standard 18 Death Dealer Divisions in her Battle Group and the six Empyreal Armies she had 138 ground divisions under her command. She was using a 30mm Vulcan cannon to kill a fly. She was drawn out of her thoughts by her XO’s words on the upcoming invasion.
“Talk about fracking overkill. A hundred and thirty-eight divisions attacking one planet is nuts. They don’t stand a fracking chance.”
“Mike how many times do I have to tell you that there is no such thing as overkill for Death Dealers. Only open fire and reload.” Saris told her XO with a friendly smile that never reached her eyes. “The Cheeseheads call the tune for this war. We’re just the agents collecting for the piper.”
“Lady Saris I understand what you’re saying. Believe me I do. The Gorgonzola Empire has been attacking our people for the last century or longer. What I don’t understand is why have we gone so far as to destroy this nation. Surely we could have just recaptured our territory and punished the invading forces like we did in the past.” Mike asked her honestly.
“Mike of all the nations in Human space with the exception of the Velmaro Consortium. Only the Gorgonzola Empire as gone out of its way to push beyond acceptable border raids. Their leaders have dreamt of placing their asses on the Throne of our Empire from the time of the Great Shattering. They were warned by Empress Maiha to stay out of our Empire the last time. Granted Emperor James could have stopped with just reclaiming the Highwinds sector and bombing the Capital Planets of the Cheeseheads.” Saris chuckled evilly. “Only unlike his mother, Emperor James believes in ending a problem by ripping out its very heart.”
“That’s why we’re hitting San Vitruvio with such a massive force. To show the rest of the Human Universe to leave us the frack alone.” Mike said as he finally grasped the full picture. This was more than just a war to punish the enemy. It was a war to remove one of the greatest threats to their home.
“To that end I plan on breaking our battle group down into three combat teams. One to the western hemisphere northern continent. One to the eastern hemisphere’s main continent. With the last to the eastern hemisphere’s southern continent. Each one of those Combat Teams will be support by two standard armies. Between the three Combat Teams attacking from three fronts the Cheeseheads will have no chance. They’ll have to split their already depleted forces to engage our overwhelming forces. I know it sounds strange, but I want to put an end to this war as soon as possible, Mike.” Saris sighed and looked down at her left hand. “I’ve grown tired of the warriors life old friend. I earned my retirement ten years ago. I think I want to spend the rest of my life on a nice quiet beach somewhere drinking those fruity drinks that come with an umbrella.”
“I fear the day that you retire Lady Saris. Because when that day comes the Empire will be just a little less safe.” Mike told her honestly.
“I doubt that Mike. Because if the reports coming out of Apollo six are even halfway true. There is a Death Dealer on that world right now who will replace me. One whose legend will only be matched by that of Lord James J. Owens Sr.” Saris told Mike with a grin of satisfaction. “The man we once called Death now has an equal. The Whitechapel Ripper.”
“No offence ma’am. No one will ever be equal to Death. With the exception of his daughter. The Empress Maiha.” Mike grunted.
“I suggest you read the reports from the Battle for Apollo six. That lone Death Dealer did more to upend the plans of the occupying the force than ten full Special Operations teams. That doesn’t even take into count the sheer number of body bags he filled on his own.” Saris reached over and punched in a command used for accessing the main Death Dealer Royal Archives. “Here take a look at the latest updates for the young man’s source code recordings.”
As the updates played within the holo-tank before eyes, second in command for the 22nd Death Dealer Battlegroup, Lieutenant General Mike Deveron, gasped. What he saw made him whish for this man to be under his own command. “By the Gods of Battle. This man could command a Regimental Combat Team on his own. How up to date is this recording ma’am? Is he still operating on Apollo six?”
“That update is more than a week old, Mike. At last report Warrant Officer Robert Wolff is still operating on Apollo six. The only reason we have that update is because he used an uplink to call in an artillery strike. The First Death Dealer Battlegroup has been in contact with the rest of his team and the one other Special Operations team that was sent in. None of their battle records even come close to Warrant Officer Wolff’s record.” Saris chuckled as she gave Mike an appraising look. “Do you think he’ll live long enough to clam his place among our legends?”
“I believe that he will surprise us all, Lady Saris.” Mike told her honestly. Then chuckled himself. “You know there is an old war hero’s saying about the ripper.”
“Do you know where that saying came from? It came from the men that policed the streets of Whitechapel in London, England during the late eighteen hundreds. That saying is true in more ways than one.” Saris snarked. “Never turn your back on the Ripper. It seems that our young Warrant Officer truly is the Ghost of Jack the Ripper come back to haunt the battlefield.”
Arco dei Gavi, Capital City, San Vitruvio, Gorgonzola Empire.
Innocenzo Juliana walked the line of his personal bodyguard APS unit. It didn’t matter that most of these Armored Power Suits were more than 150 years out of date. They were all 100tn Assault Class Power Suits. Each with enough firepower to stop a full lance of Light to Medium APS units. He was sure that with these twenty suits he would be able to secure his place in history as the greatest leader of his nation. It didn’t matter if he died in battle or that his nation lost the war. His final battle against the Human Empire would go down in the annuls of history. One that would equal the last stand of the 300.
“Excuse me sire, but you’re needed in the war room. It is a matter of some urgency.” His aid for the day called out to him.
“What do those fools in the War Room need now, Stephen?” Juliana snarled as he moved to join the aid.
The aid waited until Juliana was near him enough to whisper. “Sire we have lost contact with our Early Warning Satellites.”
Juliana stopped dead in his tracks. Dropping his own voice to just barely above a whisper Juliana asked quickly. “How many are down?”
“All of them sire.” The aid answered honestly.
“All? But how?” Juliana couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I do not know sire. I was only told that the EW Satellites were offline and to let you know you were needed in the war room.” Stephen answered honestly.
“They’ve finally arrived then.” Juliana sighed then looked towards the sky with a slight smile. “Only Death Dealers could have destroyed our EW Satellites with such easy. At least the little bastard has seen fit to send me his best.”
“Um… Sire, are you feeling alright?” The aid asked with real concern.
“I’m fine Stephen. Just commenting on the situation. It seems that the false Emperor James Nakatoma has sent his finest troops to attack us. It is befitting that only the best of our two nations decide our fates on this battleground.” Juliana raised his arms above his head as he spoke. Clenching his fists with his arms raised high Juliana yelled at the top of his lungs. “Come on you little bastard! Quite making me wait. Time for one of us to die!”
Little did the Exalted Supreme High Chancellor of the Gorgonzola Empire know that James Nakatoma was nowhere near his planet. In fact, the Royal couple was even now planning the final stages for the Battle of Apollo 6. It would not be a rival ruler that would end Juliana’s reign but the Grand Marshal First High Lady of Death Dealers Lady Saris Victoria. A woman with more than a lifetime of combat under her belt. A woman who had but one goal. The total destruction of her enemy.
Apollo 6, Highwinds System
Northern Front lines, 1st Death Dealer Battlegroup Command
James stood quietly studying the map of the frontline. To either side of his main force were his mother’s mercenary forces. In front of him was 500mls of trench works held by the enemy. Trench works that were strong enough to repulse their attacks. The four times that Terresa had sent in recon flights they had been blasted out of the sky. The ADA defense for those trench works was deadly as hell. Not even with the extremely high-speeds of the FB-11A2 Claymore could get accurate photos of the trench works. His only intel came from high orbit photos. Even then those photos weren’t always reliable. The Cheeseheads had begun to shift their forces inside their trenches hourly. For the first time since landing on Apollo 6 James knew he faced a worthy adversary. Until now they had been ripping through the enemy forces as if they were made from tissue paper.
“Excuse me sir, but our scouts are reporting troop movements within the enemy trenches. Sir, it looks like they’re getting ready to charge our position.” The officer in command of the Communications station called out.
“What? Are they sure?” James asked in shock. For the last week and a half, the enemy has steadily retreated. Why would they go on the offensive now. It just didn’t make any sense to him at all.
“From the reports we’re receiving sir that is the only conclusion that can be assumed. Sir before you say it. Yes I know that assume means to make an ass out of you and me.” The Colonel said as she looked over her shoulder at James.
“Colonel Two-knives, you’re the Intelligence expert here. What do you make of this?” James demanded of the older officer.
“I can only go off of these Scout reports, sir. Give me a few minutes to read through them before answering that question.” Two-knives called out as he grabbed the first of the reports from the Communications Station. James waited as the Elf read through the reports. When he finished Two-knives grunted. “Colonel Kelly is correct your Majesty. The Cheeseheads are gathering their forces for an all-out attack on this position. The part I don’t understand is what their rest of the forces are currently doing. It’s like no one is in charge over there above Regimental levels. If we only had contact with one of those Spec Ops teams. Then we could direct them to hunt down the Cheesehead High Command.”
“Speaking of those two teams. Why aren’t we in contact with them?” James demanded.
“They’re following mission SOP, sire. Just as they have been from the start. Daily check ins at appointed times. Unless they have priority targets.” Kelly explained for James quickly. “Sire, I know that Spec Ops was never your specialty. Might I suggest you call in your brother-in-law.”
“I would IF I knew where that monkey nut was.” James grumbled.
“Sylvester is over with the third Special Operations Group, James. He can be here in about forty minutes.” Terresa answered as she entered the Goliath Mobile Command Post. “Though I don’t think we need to call him in just yet.”
“What are you thinking love?” James asked her with a smile.
“I’ve been listening to what you all have been talking about. I think I know what is going on with the Cheeseheads. It all concerns the units directly across from the Death Dealers.” Terresa knew that she had everyone’s undivided attention now. “Those are Grim Reaper Battalions. The true diehards of the Cheesehead military.”
“Oh, Fracking shit!” Colonel Two-knives gasped as he reached for the Scout reports once more. “Damn it! Why didn’t I see this? How could I have missed it?”
“Talk to me Colonel. What did you miss?” James demanded.
“They’re going to attack our position as a diversion. They’re hoping to tie us up in a prolonged battle long enough to swing their regular forces into our rear by rolling up one of our flanks. The Cheeseheads have never held mercenary units in high regard as professional military forces. That’s why they’ve been reenforcing their flanks. It all makes sense now.” Two-knives snarled as he pounded his fist into the wall of the Goliath. “Damn it.”
“Get me Admiral Stokes on the line now.” James ordered Colonel Kelly quickly. He knew what he needed to do now. His mother, the War Princess Alison, had been the first to pioneer the method on the planet Seth. He had more than enough artillery to pound the Cheeseheads flat once they were in the open. The problem was they’re currently in secured areas behind their trench works. Areas that were protected by anti-artillery and aircraft cover fire. The only answer to his problem was the Corvettes, Frigates, Destroyers, and Coursers of the 1st Death Dealer Battlegroup. A few highspeed over flights from those powerful ships would end this battle before it even began. At least it should.
“Sir I have the Admiral on the line.” Colonel Kelly called out. “Do you want to take it at the holo-tank or here at the console?”
“I’ll take it here please.” James told and waited for the transfer to happen. When Admiral Stokes appeared in the holo-tank James got straight to the business at hand. “Admiral this is a Falling Star. I repeat Falling Star. Coordinates are as follows. Sector forty-one, grid thirty-one, target location three-one-five-six to three-one-seven-seven. Full flyover of all Cursers, Destroyers, Frigates, and Corvettes. Total number of flyovers three. Understood?”
“One Falling Star on the way sir. Trip attack by all Cursers and below. We’ll turn the fracking area into glass. Attack will commence in twenty-five minutes.” Admiral Stokes answered back then cut the line.
“Welp, it looks like the battle is about to begin ladies and gentlemen. Time to mount up. Pass the word, Colonel. We take the enemy tranches in forty minutes. Terresa can your fighters take care of any remaining enemy aircraft?” James asked as he turned towards the rear ramp of the Goliath.
“I hope that was a rhetorical question James.” Terresa snapped as she followed him down the ramp. “My people will be overhead in twenty to provide top cover for those dropships. I know that sounds impossible, but we’ll be there. The Wraths have never backed down from a fight yet. I’ll be damned if I let them start now.”
“Just remember to wear the outer flight suit, love.” James ordered her just before he gave her a kiss for luck. He then helped her into the FAV that was her transport back to the temporary flight line. “Be careful and come back to me.”
“Are you kidding? Between Smoke, and Ghost I haven’t had a chance to get even close to an enemy aircraft. Let alone target one.” Terresa grumbled. “I might as well be going up for training missions. The only thing I’ve been able to target are stationary ground targets. Things like MCUs, FCCs, Firebases, Supply bases and shit like that. Even then they would only let me strafe or bomb from altitude.”
The pout in Terresa’s voice had James fighting the chuckle that threaten to rise within his chest. Terresa spotted the mirth playing within his eyes and snarled. “If you even snicker once buddy boy. You’ll be sleeping on a cot for the next year.”
“Go on love get to your fighter. I’m sure that you’ll get your chance to finally break the century mark for kills. As it is Raven is only two Jolly Rogers ahead of you with ninety-eight to your ninety-six. I’m sure that if you talk to them Smoke and Raven will let you get in on the fun.” James assured Terresa. He knew how much Terresa wanted to break the century mark for confirmed kills before she was grounded because of the baby. James knew that it would at least two years before Terresa could fly again. James truly regrated the day of his wife’s grounding. He knew that flying was one of her greatest joys in life.
“Your wife is truly a one-of-a-kind James.” Cathy Pike’s voice had James turning to face his lance mate and friend. “Though I do have to wonder over your decision at letting her fly combat missions right now.”
“I hate to say this Jim, but I agree with Cathy on this.” Derick grunted.
“Believe me guys. If I could ground her right now. I would. I have to trust in her squadron. Because there is no way that she’ll stay out of this fight.” James sighed.
“That’s not what we’re saying here Jim. We know that the Wraths will protect your wife. It’s the G-forces that we’re worried about.” Steven Light Horse pointed out.
“Not to mention the extreme high speeds her fighter needs to operate during combat.” Joseph Silver Leaf told his friend.
“That is why the triple seven have been ordered to engage in ground support operations only.” James told his friends with a chuckle. “They’re also being reinforced by the seven-seventy-eighth and seven-seventy-nineth squadrons from Ryuk’s fighter contingent. Between the Specters and the Phantoms nothing will get anywhere near my wife’s squadron as they support the incoming attack.”
“What the hell? Are you nuts James? Three full squadrons of Claymores is on the overkill side of things.” Cathy gasped then got a good look at the smirk on his face. “Oh frack! What else have you not told Terresa?”
“What are you talking about Cathy?” Derick asked his wife.
“James has more than just those two squadrons supporting the Wraths. I would beat that there is at least two to three Carrier squadrons flying extreme top cover.” Cathy explained then chuckled at the snarky smile that graced James’ face.
“That’s just downright sneaky bro. You do know that if Terresa finds out you’ll spend the next year on the couch?” Derick asked him jokingly.
“Trust me I know that more than anyone what her temper is like. That’s why I didn’t tell her about the reinforcements. She would just push herself that much harder. If anything, that crazy wife of mine will find a way to get those last four Jolly Rogers. She wants that hundredth kill in a major way. It’s become her unicorn.” James sighed then looked towards the temporary airfield. “The only place you’ll ever find Terresa in a fight is in the cockpit of a fighter. She just won’t be herself if it was any other way. The next few years are going to be tough on her.”
“I doubt that James.” Cathy told him with a knowing smile. “Being a mother is one of the most rewarding occupations for a young woman. She won’t be alone.”
“Cathy are you trying to tell me something?” Derick asked her bluntly.
“Derick I love you like a brother.” James sighed then thumped him on the back. “But you really need to pay more attention to the medical reports from Cathy’s APS.”
“Thank you James. I’ve trying to figure out a way to tell the big lug head.” Cathy chuckled then kissed Derick on the cheek. “I had Doc Cole confirm the medical readouts from my APS this morning. I’m pregnant.”
“Congratulations old man. About time.” Joseph said as he put his arm around Derick’s shoulders. “Trust me fatherhood is one mission that none of us prepared for.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Derick asked in confusion.
“Think about it. You go out and buy one of those home entertainment center holo projectors. It comes with a fifty-page manual on everything you need to know about it. You have a baby, and they send you home with nothing but a seven-day supply of diapers, formula, stuffed in a bag. No manual on how to be parent. It is truly a Learn On the Job from the start.” Explained Joseph as the only father among the four young men with a chuckle. “Don’t worry the first one is the hardest.”
“Okay guys we need to mount up and move into position. Cathy you’re to keep your ass back behind the rest of us. We’ll operate in a one-three-one formation. I’m on point, Cathy you’re tail-end Charlie. No bitching.” James ordered. Then gave her a smile when she pouted. “You’ve got the longest range of all of us. That makes you the best for overwatch and ADA.”
“Gotcha boss man. I’ll take care of any enemy close air support if the Fury doesn’t knock them down before I do.” Cathy looked towards the temporary airfield. “I got a feeling that she’ll earn those five kills today.”
Temporary Airfield Command Tent for 777th Interceptor Squadron.
Colonel Raven Nevermore was never one to become nervousness over an up coming mission show. Let for some reason today’s fight had her on end. “What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I feel this way?”
“What was that ma’am?” Smoke asked of her.
“Nothing Smoke. I was just talking with myself.” Raven chuckled.
“You that’s the first sign of insanity right boss?” Smoke asked her with a smile.
“I thought it was hearing voices?” Raven smirked. “Then again with this bunch we have to throw that sign out the window.”
Her comment about hearing voices had Smoke chuckling himself. As Death Dealers they all heard voices in their heads thanks to their AIs. “That’s the truth. Then again I believe that most pilots are a little nuts to begin with.”
“Only a few of are crazy Smoke.” Terresa’s voice drew their attention as she entered the tent. “The rest of us are just too stupid to realize that flying at Mach two plus is dangerous for our health.”
“This coming from the woman who took on a flight of B-36 Peacemakers at altitude.” Raven snarked. “Just where does that place you Gilda?”
“Oh, that’s simple old friend. I’m both slightly crazy and stupid.” Terresa chuckled as she moved to the front of the tent. “Right now, though we got a hot mission.”
“What’s up?” Raven asked as she sat forward in her chair.
“In twenty minutes, the Fleet’s Cursers, Destroyers, Frigates, and Corvettes are going to commence flyovers of the enemy trenches. The plan is to glass those lines. Then hit them with a full-frontal assault. Our job is to keep the Cheesehead close air support down to a minimum. In short if flies it dies.” Terresa told the gather pilots of the Royal Escort Wing.
“That’s all good for the Wraiths and Specters ma’am.” Lieutenant Colonel Billy Hall said as he stood up from his chair. “But my Phantoms aren’t suited for that kind of operation. Let’s be honest our A-1 Skyraider is at a sever handicap in air-to-air combat operations. Give a us ground target and we’ll pound into dust without a problem. That is what we’re designed for, close in air support.”
“And that is exactly what you’ll be doing, Wild Bill. If there is even one APS, tank, antitank gun, MLRS left after those flyovers. You and your people are to turn them into blood stains before they can stick their heads up. Understood?” Terresa ordered the newest commanding officer for Ryuk’s aerospace fighter contingent. Terresa looked around at the gathered pilots with real pride. She still couldn’t believe that the small band of misfits from New Texas had grown to become the most prestigious Aerospace Fighter Wing in the Human Empire.
They were still a band of misfits in many ways. Yet it was that quirk that made them so damned good at their job. Even the 779th Ground Attack Squadron was a band of outlaws, and misfits. Even the Wing designation reflected their attitude. The 770th Aerospace Fighter Wing was known to the rest of the Empire as Ryuk’s Outlaws.
The sounds of thunder rolling across the landscape drew everyone’s attention. They all stood up as one and left the tent. Raven stopped Terresa just outside. “Terresa do me a favor up there today. Don’t go pulling to far ahead of us. Okay?”
“I won’t go making any promises Raven. If the intel reports are correct the Cheeseheads still have a large number of ground attack and interceptor fighters. If they can get more than half of them into the air we’ll have our hands full.” Terresa felt she should be honest with the only woman and pilot that ever beat her in aerial combat, the Black Witch, Emily Calisto.
“Just how badly are we outnumbered Terresa?” Raven asked.
“Let’s just say that New Texas was the only time the Wraiths faced worse odds.” At Terresa’s mention of New Texas and the thought of those hard-fought battles brought a shiver to Raven’s spine. “I hate to say this, but the Wraiths are going to bare the full brunt of this battle in the air.”
“Does James know how bad we’re outnumbered?” Raven demanded.
“If the reports from that Spec Ops Warrant Officer are to be believed. We’re facing five to one odds in ground attack fighters. As for the Interceptors we’re looking at four-to-one odds. As for James knowing just how bad the odds are, let’s just say that the odds for his lance are about the same.” Terresa sighed.
“That’s why he called for the overflights. I would have thought that the Cheeseheads would be running out of troops and material by now.” Raven grunted. “How the hell were they able to hide an aerial force of that size?”
“They pulled the same stunt that the Amazon’s did on New Texas. They shipped in the extra squadrons then stationed them at multiple small satellite bases spread out across the planet. The problem has been we had no way of tracking the sheer number of bases they have.” Terresa snarled as they watched the first contrails appear as the fleet began their dissent into the upper atmosphere. “If I didn’t know better I would swear the Cheeseheads have been using mobile airfields like this one.”
“Come to think about it. That would explain a lot.” Raven grunted. When Terresa gave her a look of confusion she went onto explain. “I’ve been sending out bomber and ground attack flights to destroy the Cheesehead airfields. When they get to the reported positions for those airfields nothing’s there but empty fields.”
“Shit! That does make sense. No wonder why we haven’t found them. They launch their birds from one site and land them somewhere else.” Terresa looked over at the Command tent for the Combat Engineer Battalion. “I need to talk to Colonel White before we takeoff. Care to join me?”
“We’ll have to put that talk on hold until after the mission Terresa. If you’re right the Wing will need our guns overhead.” Raven looked towards the flight line as each ground crew prepped their individual bird. “Looks like our Chiefs are setting up their babies for air superiority roles.”
“Looks that way. You know something Raven of all the people I have faced off against in the skies. You’re the only to ever give me an honest test of my skills.” Like Raven, Terresa was looking towards the flight line and her fighter. “Let’s get a move on. I want us all in the air before the first Curser makes their overflight. For some reason I got the feeling we’ll be needed to provide cover those ships.”
“In more ways than one, Terresa.” Raven turned and looked toward the enemy lines. “There’s still that squadron of heavy torpedo bombers that are uncounted for.”
“What torpedo squadron?” Terresa asked quickly.
“They’re the ones that I’ve had the Wraiths hunting for from day one of operations. Out there somewhere is a squadron of TBM-3E9 Avengers. Each one capable of carrying one Mark-forty-eight anti-ship torpedo.” The more Raven told Terresa about this one threat the more Terresa itched to be behind the controls of her fighter.
With an evil grin Terresa placed her arm over Raven’s shoulders. “How do you feel about doing a little duck hunting sister?”
“I thought you would never asked.” Raven answered with a matching grin.
Hill 931, Overlooking the Gorgonzola Trench works
“Hey Ripper, are you sure we’re secure here man?” Spider asked from under the cammo netting that we were using. “Not that I’m questioning you or nothing like that. It’s just that I would love to live long enough to enlist.”
“Don’t worry bro. We’re good. That netting is specially designed for this type of shit. As for our position. It couldn’t be any better. The only way the Cheese sticks will find us is blind luck.” Blackjack chuckled from over by the speeders. We had parked all four of them ten meters back behind our observation post. “Just hope this doesn’t turn into another Heartbreak Ridge situation.”
“A what?” Spider asked her.
“It was a month-long battle which took place between September thirteenth and October fifteenth, in nineteen-fifty-one during the Korean War back on Earth Prime. It was some of the bloodiest fighting of the entire war. According to the legends that surround the battle. At one point a single four-man fire team held off three battalions of Chinese Infantry for three days.” I told him as I kept my eye to the M-78 Spyglass and Range finder. “The problem is like all military legends no one knows if that story is true or not. What we do know is that eight men won their nation’s highest awards for bravery during that battle.”
“What our intrepid leader isn't telling you Spider is the number of dead and wounded on both sides that were carried off that mountain. He also left out the part about the Battle of Bloody Ridge that took place during the same year of the Korean War from the eighteenth of August to fifth of September. To many of those men those two battles would remain the deadliest time of the war.” Captain Wallace told Spider with more than a good deal of respect in his voice. “The said part about that war was it became known as ‘The Forgotten War’ for many of the nations that fought it.”
“That is just fracked up man. You got to be kidding me. How could a whole nation forget about fighting a war?” Spider gasped in shock.
“It happens all the time bro. More than once a nation has turned its back on those who fought for them. One nation had a really bad habit of blaming their military for all their problems. Then when they were attacked screamed for their military to defend them from the enemy.” Blackjack told him honestly.
“They weren’t the first nation to treat their military like nothing more than guard dogs that were best kept chained out in the weather until needed.” I told him as I turned to look over at him. “The problem was those guard dogs were dogs of war. They had no problem with biting off the hand of the asshole that pissed them off. Too often the High Families of our Empire have made that mistake. Just look at what happen on Hades before Empress Maiha took the throne.”
“About that Robert. Just how much do you know about the Hades Uprising?” Blackjack asked me with more than normal curiosity.
“Not much Blackjack. Just what I learned in school and then at Robin Sage. Why? From the way you’re asking it sounds like you were there.” I figured it was time to confront the 800lbs Wolf-Baboon in the room.
“Ripper didn’t Father Mike teach you that a woman is allow to have her secrets?” Blackjack chuckled as she sidestepped the question. “Though I will tell you this much. The Hades Uprising is why I’m part of the Emperor’s Hand.”
“What I want to know is why Ripper didn’t stay with his team?” Spider asked me bluntly. “I mean you spend the whole time in Goulcrest organizing the resistance to drive the Cheeseheads out. Then when the fighting in the is over. You head out to find your team. Only when we finally link back up with them and that other team you just split everyone back up. Why?”
“Spread out the way we are we can do more to hurt the Cheeseheads than as a solid team. The number one mission for teams like ours is Intelligence gathering.” I reached over and patted the satellite uplink man portable radio while giving him a nasty grin. “Each team has one of these little beauties in their loadout. They don’t look deadly. Yet with one of these the right hands one man can cause more damage to the enemy than a full APS regiment.”
“Like what you did when you called in that artillery strike?” Spider asked.
“We can do more than that Spider. The biggest asset we can provide to the chain of command is Intelligence. The more information we can provide the enemy movements and emplacements to the Death Dealer High Command the better they can counter the Cheeseheads’ movements. What we give them is real time intelligence. Something that orbital scans that are a few hours old can’t.” Blackjack explained as she stepped over to the edge of the wood line. She pointed down towards the enemy tranches. “You see those units moving behind the enemy lines? I’ll give you ten-to-one odds that they’re preparing to attack the center of the Death Dealer lines in about four to five hours.”
The sounds of dropship engines drew my attention to the east. “Oh shit! Okay people everyone in the foxholes! NOW!”
Spider didn’t question my orders. Blackjack secured the tarp over the speeders before diving into the foxhole she shared with Wallace. Wallace though waited for a few minutes before dropping into their foxhole. Spider stuck his head over the edge and looked toward the east. “Tell me something Ripper. What the hell is that fracking noise? Just what the hell is heading this way?”
“We call it Rolling Thunder, Spider. Keeping your head down when the shit hits. That sound you hear is the engines of Cursers, Destroyers, Frigates, and Corvettes lining up to blast every inch of those trench works.” The sound of KT-105 Requiem Gatling Cannons spooling up to fire from the valley floor grabbed my attention. I snatched the M-78 from its stand and the mike for the radio. It didn’t take me long to spot those monsters. There may only be four of them, but they could cause major damage to the incoming warships. “Red-Hook-six this is Fallen Angel One. Urgent traffic. I repeat Urgent traffic. Over”
“Send your traffic Fallen Angel One, Over” I was surprised that Red Hook Six didn’t ask for a confirmation of my ID.
“Priority one fire mission. One battery of Kilo-Tango-one-oh-fives in the open. Position is five klicks west of Gulf-Echo main trench works. How copy? Over” I hope like hell that Red-Hook-six realized the danger of those ADA guns.
“Fallen Angel One how positive are you of those guns? Over”
“Just rain down fire and brimstone at those coordinates damn it. That or wave off those overflights. Over” I snapped.
“Stand by to direct fire Angel One. Over”
The sound of thunder came from the Death Dealer lines. I looked towards the east but turned my attention back towards the KT-105s. The first round impacted short of their position by a 100 meters and left of them by 200 meters. I could tell by the impact that Red Hook Six was using the 1st of the 19th Field Artillery. The M-65, with their 240mm guns of the 1/19 may be smaller than their big brothers the M-36, but they made up for this with a higher rate of fire.
“Add one-hundred, come right 200, Over” I called out the corrections over the radio and waited for the next round.
“Splash over!” Rd-Hook-six answered back just as the sound of an artillery piece fired the next round. I watched as the round landed 50 meters to the right of the KT-105s, but directly in line with the unit.
“Come left 50 and fire for effect. Bring the rain, Over” I called out. The next sound we heard was the sound of 24 M-65 cannons firing at once. A few seconds later the KT-105s were pounded by 24 high explosive shells. “Target. Repeat.”
The 1st/19th fired four more times over the next two minutes. When the last round fell the KT-105s were destroyed and the first of the Corvettes was beginning its attack run. “Cease fire Red-Hook-six. Target destroyed. Over”
“Last rounds on the way Fallen Angel One. Red-Hook-six Out.” As the last rounds fell on the KT-105s the first Corvette opened fire on the trench works. Spider grabbed the edge of the foxhole in disbelieve. Even before the Corvette had cleared the area a second Corvette was blasting the trenches. As the first Corvette flew over our heads the sound of its engines were join by the roar of demons chained to the will of the true hunters of the sky.
“Holy shit! What the frack are those bro?” Spider asked as he pointed towards the fighters flying cover for the attacking dropships.
“Those are the FB-elevens of the triple seven Interceptor Squadron. Know to the rest of the universe as the Wraiths.” I chuckled as I thought about their other nickname. “Or as those of us who wear the uniform call them. The Lucky Fools.”
“The Luck Fools? Why would anyone call them that?” Spider asked in confusion.
“There is an old military saying that goes something like this Spider. ‘Never fear the professional soldier. Always fear the lucky idiot with a gun. He may be an idiot, but he’s still lucky, and he has a gun.” Captain Wallace answered the young man from his foxhole.
“No truer words have ever been spoken.” Blackjack grunted. She looked towards the shies overhead. “There go the finest pilots in all the Empire, Spider. All of them are misfits, outlaws, and meaner than a tiger with a lite torch jammed up their ass. Once they get a target in their sights. The target dies.”
“Damn. I wonder if I could ever be that good?” Spider said to no one.
“Spider, you got a clean break once this war is over. If you want I’ll sponsor you if you want to go for it.” I told him honestly.
“I don’t know man. Are pilots like officers or something? Don’t they have to have a college degree or some bullshit? You know shit that I don’t have and will never get.” Spider said with more honesty than I expected from him.
“That’s the nice thing about the Death Dealers Spider.” Blackjack said with a chuckle. “They don’t care where you came from or who you were before joining their ranks. The only thing they see is another brother or sister.”
“And a bigger, rowdier, nastier, bunch of siblings you’ll be hard pressed to find. You could screech the universe over and never find any that match the Death Dealers. We take an oath to more than just the Empire Spider. We take an oath to our fellow Death Dealers. The oath is our battle cry.” I gave Spider a cool hard look. “Remember bro. Death is Dealt by our Hands.”
-----tbc-----
P.S. Sorry for the delay but I held back the posting of this chapter to dedicate it to the all the men who fought those terrible battles of Heartbreak Ridge and Bloody Ridge 70 years ago. During my time in US Army I was stationed in South Korea. This was where I first learned of those two bloody battles and the price that was paid on both sides for those ridge lines. As an immigrant to the US I found the thought that a nation would forget the price paid in blood by their military to be one of the greatest insults to history. I had another reason for this late posting the county fair where my 4H Kids competed than then getting my youngest daughter ready for school.
James and Maiha looked out at the smashed and destroyed remnants of the Gorgonzola military on Apollo 6. Everywhere they looked they saw nothing but total devastation. Their once mighty APS Regiments blown to smithereens. Heavy tank battalions melted down to little more than slag heaps. Infantry units of all sizes reduced to ash. Artillery units torn apart at the atomic level. Trench works turned into long lines of molten glass. Both had witnessed the results of the Rolling Thunder attack before but never in the history of those attacks had one delivered such damage.
“What the frack happened here mom?” James asked her with a heaviness he rarely felt for the enemy. “They were dug in. I know that firepower our ships bring to a fight is extreme. Still, it shouldn’t have reached this level of destruction.”
“Look at where half of those units are James. Outside of their fortifications. We got lucky and caught them in the open. This was nothing more than the Fog of War and lucky timing on our part. If our ships had hit them ten minutes earlier we would have been the ones paying the price for victory. Ten minutes later and they would have been in position to hit our lines. We would have been the ones on the defensive, with our most powerful weapon of no use.” Maiha sighed then looked towards Hill 931. “If not for Fallen Angel One’s warning our losses would have been enough to force us to retreat and regroup.”
“I know that mom. The question I have is why weren’t their APS unit able to withstand the attack better? I know that they were hit by Naval Class weapons but still. Those hundred tonners shouldn’t gone down the they did.” James said as he pointed towards the nearest 100tn APS. “The armor on that Atlas looks like it shredded under the impact of a PPC instead of melting.”
“That’s because it did shred under the impact, your Majesty.” A Field Recovery Specialist told him as he walked up to the Royals. In his hands he held a piece of metal. “This is a sample of the enemy armor plate. This is nothing more than four-inch-thick homogeneous steel plating. A standard one-oh-five main gun tank round can punch through this crap. Hit it with a Practical Projection Cannon of any size and it’ll break apart at the seams or fracture lines.”
“What the frack?!” Maiha asked in shock as she grabbed the metal from the man’s hand. “If they’ve been constructing their APSs out of this shit. It’s no wonder they just came apart like they did.”
“They went for quantity over quality, Empress. When you don’t have the resources to produce quality war materials. Your only choice is to produce mass quantity and bluff your enemy. I know that this is going to sound harsh, Empress. As far as I’m concerned the Cheeseheads brought this on themselves.” The Specialist grunted.
“Thank you for the explanation Specialist. Any word on the recovery of those downed ground attack fighters of the enemy’s?” James asked with a knowing grin.
“Still working on the count sire.” The Specialist answered with his own grin.
“It’ll take them another seven days to get the final tally James. We played marry hell with their remaining aerospace fighters. Of the thirty-six they were able to get off the ground we intercept and downed them all before they could even make a deference in the fight. The rest of their fighter contingent was destroyed on the ground. Either on the flight line or in their hangers.” Terresa told him as she walked up to where they were standing. “That’s the good news.”
“What’s the bad news dear?” Maiha asked with a sly grin.
“Raven and I are tied at one-hundred apiece, damn it!” Terresa grumbled. James just hugged his wife as he smothered his chuckles in her pure white hair. Maiha had no reason to hold back her laughter at her daughter-in-law’s complaint.
“Terresa my dear. I fear that you two shall forever be at odds. The two of you are far too alike to let the other get ahead.” Maiha chuckled openly then turned deadly serious. “Were your people able to take out those mobile airfields?”
“Each and every one, thanks to the Black Saints. If not for their recon work we would have missed two or three of them. As it is we got lucky with those last three airfields. One of them had Raider class Dropships waiting on the pad for evac of the Cheeseheads.” Terresa chuckled evilly. “The A-1 Skyraiders of the Phantoms turn those ships to burned out hulks on the tarmac thanks to their torpedoes.”
“About that Terresa. I know that the A-1 Skyraider is an aging aerospace fighter. Why hasn’t it been replaced yet?” James asked her honestly.
“Because no one has found or designed anything better. It may be slow, ugly, and armored to take on a Fire Support APS Lance on its own, but it maneuvers like a dream. When you add all that together it just makes it that much harder to kill. Until someone can design a bird that out preforms the Skyraider we’ll continue to use them. Before you say the Claymore can do a better job, don’t. The Claymore is a solid all-around fighter and bomber. It really isn’t designed for ground support attacks like the Skyraider. Trust me I know what I designed the Claymore to be, and a ground attack and torpedo bomber is along those lines.” Terresa informed James.
“I know that much love. I think only the pilots in triple seven are crazy enough to use a Claymore as a ground attack fighter.” James chuckled.
“That’s true. Most squadrons that are outfitted with the Claymore only use them as interceptors and air supremacy fighters.” Maiha surmised. “Though I do worry about such narrow thinking among our Death Dealer Units.”
“The problem isn’t the Death Dealer Squadrons, mother Maiha. It’s the standard Naval Carrier groups that we need to worry about. They’re used to having three types of fighters aboard their ships at the minimum. A fighter squadron, a bomber squadron, lastly a torpedo squadron. Aboard the supercarriers they have as many as six squadrons broken down in much the same way.”
“Look’s like the Cheeseheads aren’t the only ones who need to rethink our priorities for war national defense.” Maiha sighed.
“Not this time mother.” James snarled. “Once Lady Saris and the twenty-second slam down on San Vitruvio along with the six Empyreal Armies of Task Force Revenant. This war is over along with the Gorgonzola Empire.”
“What’s changed James?” Terresa asked as she picked up the unsaid note of anger.
“Those fools in Parliament and the Hall of Lords want to use the territory along the Gorgonzola Empire’s border with the Balzac Imperium as a buffer zone.” James sighed as he thought about that border. “They’ve made the suggestion that the best way to use the Planetary Defense Forces from the regions that surrendered as a Balzac Border Guard. As much as I would love to ignore those two branches of our government. I can’t in good conscience turn a blind eye to the defense of the Gorgonzola citizens. It would be tantamount to feed them to the wolves.”
“True. We shouldn’t punish the average citizen of their Empire for the misguided ideals of their fool Emperor. It would be best that in the short term we setup local planetary Governments. Then in a few years allow open elections. The same way that we have done within our own Empire. As much as I hate this we’ll have to bring their Nobility into our own Hall of Lords. Only we’ll limit their actual power on their home planets. The same way we have done for our own High Families.” Maiha said thoughtfully. “Hopefully we won’t be facing an open rebellion in a few years.”
“So long as we restrict their military to a National Defense Force I doubt we’ll have that problem. In many ways the average citizen for the Gorgonzola Empire will have more rights under our system than under the old system.” Terresa grunted.
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a HQ runner. “Excuse me sire. Urgent message from General Keller on the Eastern Front.”
“What’s the message private?” Maiha asked.
“To the Commander of the Western Front. The Cheesehead Eastern front has fallen. Capture of the King of Spades confirmed. We own the Eastern Continent. Empress Maiha you own one bottle of bourbon. End of message.” The private said as he read off the paper in his hands.
“Well, damn. I was hoping that General Guy Philippon would at least died in battle. Oh well. If Thomas Keller was able to capture that monkey nut he and his people deserve a fifth of bourbon from my personal stock.” Maiha grumbled as James and Terresa chuckled at her bitching. James then held out his hand to his mother and coughed. “I know, I know. I’ll have to pay you later damn it.”
“Just remember I told you not to take General Keller up on that bet, mom. Outside of you he’s the only officer to ever hand me my ass in a poker game.” James chuckled.
“What about me?” Maiha asked with a raised eyebrow.
“You don’t count. You’re my mom and the Dowager Empress.” James snarked.
A second runner approached them at a dead run. “Sire, we have three Special Operations Teams approaching the TOC. Call signs for two for the teams is Fallen Angels and Black Saints. First Lord Malcom is requestion your presence.”
“Looks like our wayward children have decided to come in from the cold.” Maiha chuckled as she looked over at James. “I hope like hell you have reviewed their latest combat updates James. Those two teams have done more to win this battle than any other force on Apollo six.”
“Trust me mother. This is one time that even I’m having problems with what awards to present those men and women.” James answered as he headed for the Tactical Operations Command post for the 1st Death Dealer Battlegroup.
Sentry Post 1, 1st Death Dealer TOC
Sergeant William Stokes looked at the rag-tag group of 2 CIQ1R Cyclones, 2 VR2-SC2 Firebrand, and 4 MT-350 Tomahawks with real confusion. AS they pulled to a stop in front of his position Stokes wanted to chuckle. He watched as the gunners for the Cyclones and Firebrands kept their hands away from their weapons. As he walked towards them he could tell that each member of these teams needed showers, shaves, and a hot meal. “Looks like you bunch have been running and gunning nonstop for days there Sergeant. Unit ID and call signs.”
“We’re what’s left of the Fallen Angels and Black Saints, First Special Operations Group, Sergeant. Authentication is Hell’s Fury.” Iceman told him sadly as he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb towards the Tomahawks. “Our Team CO is back there with three civilians on the Tomahawks.”
“Thank you Sergeant. Wait here until I verify your unit ID with your CO.” Sergeant Stokes waved to Iceman and headed towards the rear of the formation and the speeders. As he neared them one of the riders removed his helmet. Stokes was taken back by the young man’s appearance. He had seen young men pushed the edge before, but this young man had the 1000-yard stare in Spades. “Wind walkers.”
“Linebacker.” Robert answered coldly. “Warrant Officer Wolff with the Fallen Angels, First Special Operations Group. Where can I get some hot chow, a refuel, resupply, and eight hours of sleep Sergeant?”
“Care to explain why you’re tell end Charlie sir?” Stokes asked him.
“First in, last out, Sergeant.” Robert chuckled giving the Sergeant the old line about officers always being the first one on the battlefield and the last ones off.
“Okay sir. The POL point is over by the KV-twelve Electronic Warfare unit. For resupply you need to head over to the far side of the compound. As for chow the mobile field chow hall is in the center. You can get showered over at the relief center before heading for the chow line. As for find a place to bed down for eight hours of sleep. You can put your team between the R1-8B Lancer and B1-4D Rhino.” Stokes knew that he was close to overstepping his authority but from the look on the Warrant Officer’s face he didn’t care. This team had gone through hell.
“Thanks Sergeant.” Robert said before putting his helmet back on and giving the signal to move out. Thankfully Iceman had stepped back to hear the directions to the refuel and resupply points.
Fallen Angel Team
“Tell me something Ripper. What was that Sergeant’s problem with us reporting in?” Spider asked of his old friend.
“We’re coming in out of the cold, Spider. I was hoping to find a battalion or regimental TOC. At division TOC at the most for our resupply.” I answered with an honest chuckle. “Not the Death Dealer Battlegroup TOC.”
“Wow! This is the main headquarters for the whole damned show.” Spider looked around as they road through the compound. “Never thought I’d live to see the day when a bum like me would be among the big boys like this.”
“You EARNED your place here Spider.” I almost snarled. “Do let any of these guys tell you fracking otherwise.”
“I don’t know bro. I mean these guys are all Death Dealers. I’m just a street gangster from Goulcrest that knows how to fight.” Spider told me. I could tell that he was trying to downplay is part in the fight for Goulcrest.
“Spider of all the gang leaders in Goulcrest you were the linchpin in the coalition that freed our city. Make no mistake about that, young man. It wasn’t my officers or the other resistance fighters that led that fight. It was the gangs, and you were their leader in more ways than one. If it hadn’t been for you and the Demon Pistols shit would have been a fracking lot harder.” Captain Wallace corrected him.
“He’s telling you the truth Spider. I’ve been in the game for far longer than I care to admit. I’ve seen them come and go on more planets than most. You are a true leader. One of the best. If you applied yourself you could actually make a fairly decent political leader of the people.” Blackjack told honestly not that I would know. After all I’m just like him in many ways. We’re both from the same mean fracking streets and crossed knuckles more than once. Then again there was one major deference between the two of us. Spider wasn’t the leader of the Demon Pistols for nothing. He knew how to play the political game. I didn’t.
As we pulled into the POL point we let the FAVs go first. I knew for a fact that the four of them were running on fumes. They had used the last of their fuel cans yesterday and were nearing the maximum end of their fuel range. Our four speeders weren’t in much better shape. Their hydrogen fuel cells were nearing the end of their lifespan and would need replacement before we headed out again. I lead Wallace, Blackjack, and Spider over to the TB-78 Goat all-wheel drive heavy transport that would be carrying replacement cells. I just hope they had fuel cells that would fit our Tomahawks.
“Can I help you?” Asked a bored young Corporal as she stepped up to my speeder. When she pinged my AI for ID she quickly corrected her attitude. “Sorry, sir.”
“Forget about it Corporal. I hope you got fuel cells to fit our Tomahawks?” I asked.
“I’m not sure sir. I know that we have fuel cells for the MT-four-fifties. Will those work?” She asked politely.
“They should. Both machines used the same fuel cell.” Then I chuckled as I shutdown the engine and dismounted. “Or they should according to the manuals.”
The Corporal gave me a funny look then started to chuckle. Her chuckle turned to gasps of surprise as we pulled the fuel cells from the Tomahawks. “Sweet mothers of Mary, and Joseph. Holy shit sir those cells are damned near burned out. How long you been running on those babies?”
“For a few days now. Been recharging them where and when we can at civilian recharge stations. Before you say anything Corporal. Those were our only choices. We didn’t have any portable recharges or replacement cells.” I told her honestly.
“Well, I’ll give you four replacement cells and rechargers. If the Supply Sergeant gets on my ass I’ll just inform him that you guys lost them in combat.” The Corporal giggled. “It’ll twist his tit. Big time. He hates having to reissue because of combat losses. The man is a real nut buster over things like that.”
“Give him a break Corporal. Your Supply Sergeant has to count for every nut, bolt, screw, and can of oil in his inventory. Something gets lost and it’s his ass.” I told her with a real smile.
“Yes sir. Though I do have to wonder why you’re missing the rechargers and spare fuel cells.” I could tell that she really did want to know the reason.
“Never had them in the first place. These babies were liberated from the impound yard of the Cheesehead High Command. Kind ‘a had to go with what we had, Corporal.” Captain Wallace told her with a wicked grin.
“Um… sir. Why is yours the only IFF that I’m picking up for you four?” She asked.
“That’s because the Warrant Officer is the Death Dealer here. Me and the old man are civilian advisors. While the little lady is something else entirely above your paygrade. Just do yourself a favor. Have the boss man sign for everything and then forget we were ever here.” Spider told her with a wicked chuckle of his own.
“Okay. Whatever makes your world go round I guess.” The Corporal said as she climbed into the back end of her TB-78. A few minutes later she tossed down four P-38 rechargers and the extra fuel cells. “These should take care of everything sir.”
I took them from her and handed them out to the others. When she jumped down she had a tablet in her hand. “I need your signature sir.”
I signed and handed it back to her. “Thanks Corporal. Now if you’ll excuse us.”
I remounted my Tomahawk and fired over the engine. I looked over at the rest of my team to see that they were also refueled and ready to roll. Not only had they filled their main tanks but their reserve cans as well. I know that both the CIQ1R Cyclone, and the VR2-SC2 Firebrand have fuel ranges of 800 miles per tankful. The downside to that fuel economy is their lack of armor. They’re basically four-wheel versions of the Tomahawks. Fast, light, and deadly.
As we pulled into the position that the SOG at the checkpoint had assigned us I couldn’t help but chuckle. The R1-8B Lancer and B1-4D Rhino bookend a ten-foot-tall berm. In short we would be protected from direct fire weapons. At least ground based weapons of that nature. The Lancer and Rhino were more than enough protection against aerospace and ground attack fighters. At 80tns each they’re almost the perfect Fire Support APS units to provide ADA fire. I was slightly surprised when a young man walked up to Blackjack.
“It’s been a while there Blackjack. Where’s the rest of your team?” He asked her.
“It has been a long time Duce. Too long really.” Blackjack answered him with a great deal of sadness in her voice. “I’m all that’s left of the Pit Vipers.”
“Damn. Sorry to hear that Blackjack. I can’t believe that Copperhead finally bought the farm. Hard to fracking believe that anybody could ever get the drop on him. Let alone the rest of the Vipers. What happened?” Duce asked her.
“A whole lot of shit is what happened Double Duce. Most of my people were either nailed by Brownshirts with heavy ordnance or self-destructed to prevent capture.” Blackjack tapped the side of her head. “I got their memories in my backup hard drive. You got somewhere I can download them?”
“Come with me. I figured you’re pushing the limits of your chassis as is it.” Double Duce told her as he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. He had given her body the once over. Taking in the condition of her synthetic skin and slump of her shoulders. “Got a Turbidity Cleanser, Surface Chamber, and recharge station in the S-2 Intelligence Goliath. From the looks of it you could used the works. When was the last time you flushed, resurfaced, and recharged?”
“More than ten days ago. Before you take my head off boss. I didn’t have much choice in the matter.” Blackjack leaned in close to him. “This room is too small.”
“Care to introduce me to your friend here Blackjack?” I asked her as I joined the two of them holding out my hand to the man. “Warrant Office Robert Wolff, call sign Ripper. I take it you’re Blackjack’s boss?”
“In a way you could say that Ripper. I’m the Section chief for this area of the Empire. They call me Double Duce. Mainly because of the last two numbers of my service number.” Double Duce told me.
“Blackjack go get yourself taken care of. We won’t be moving out for at least eight to ten hours. I don’t care what the fracking brass wants. This team is on standdown until we get something hot in bellies, eight hours of sack time, and a full resupply. We’ve been pushing shit for far too long.” I told her as I looked over at what was the last of the two teams that had hit this rock with me. Out of a 14-member strike team I was down to 9 members not counting myself. There was nothing that I could have done that would have changed the outcome of those losses. “Any else?”
“If you’re Warrant Office Wolff then you’re needed up at the TOC ASAP. The bosses want a word with and whoever is in charge of your team.” Double Duce told me bluntly as he pointed towards the T-98 Mobil Command Post.
“Yeah well they can fracking wait until me and my people shit, shower, shave, eat, and bed down for eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.” I snarled and looked over at Captain Wallace and Spider. “That includes the two civies. Now frack off.”
“Sorry Ripper, but you really need to report in. I’ll have one of my people take care of your people.” Double Duce told me straight faced.
“Iceman get our people showered and feed. It seems that the bosses want a debrief on what the frack we’ve been doing for the last few months.” I yelled out.
“Gotcha Ripper.” Iceman called back with a wave of his arm. “Cover your six in there boss. They’re going to want someone’s ass over what went down with this drop.”
“Thanks for the warning Iceman. Not that I needed it.” I chuckled as I turned and headed for the Battlegroup’s command post.
T-98 Goliath MCP, 1st Death Dealer Battlegroup.
James, Terresa, Maiha, and Alice stood inside the T-98 waiting patiently for the arrival of Combat Arms Warrant Office Robert Wolff. AKA the Whitechapel Ripper. James looked over at Maiha. “Tell me something mom. Do you really believe that this Warrant Officer was the main factor behind the Cheesehead defeat in Goulcrest?”
“If there is one thing that I know is this, James. The reports of the gangs and cops of Goulcrest working together in Goulcrest are true. That being said there is only one Operative in the two teams we sent in that could have pulled it off.” Maiha turned towards the rear ramp of the Goliath. “That is your cousin.”
“But he’s nothing more than a street rat that got lucky in Q-course.” James snarked. “There is no way he could have organized the gangs and the cops the way those reports out of Goulcrest read. He would have to be some kind of political genius.”
“A word of advice my son. Don’t ever disparage your cousin’s abilities.” Alice snarled. “Never forget that your great grandfather came from those very same streets and was just as much a street rat as your cousin Robert Wolff.”
The warning was as clear as the night sky for James. In many ways he had forgotten that James J. Owens Sr. was born to a commoner’s house. He was brought up on the legends of the man that even Death Dealers called Death and Death’s Own Daughter. The two most feared and respected of Death Dealers in all of the Empire. He was also one of the few who knew that they were both the same person. James also knew that there was a great deal about his mother Maiha’s past he still did not know. His was saved from having to confront his feelings of inadequacy by the appearance of the very man they were discussing.
“Speak his name and he shall appear.” Maiha chuckled as the young man in question walked up the rear rampway. Maiha didn’t wait for the rest of the command staff to recognize him. She just walked up to him holding out her hand. “Welcome back from the cold cousin. You and your team must have played marry hell with the Cheeseheads.”
“We had our fun Empress. Thought we cannot take all the credit. As you know the good people of Apollo six hate unexpected visitors.” Robert chuckled.
“So, it would seem. I had a very interesting conversation with one of the captured Cheesehead commanders. Did you know that they have a very unflattering nickname for your resistance cells?” Maiha asked with a sideways smile.
“Not really. Not that I care either way. They could call the people in those cells anything they want. It wouldn’t change a thing.” Robert chuckled.
“Oh, I doubt that Mister Wolff. It seems that in the minds of the Cheeseheads. The people of your resistance cells are thugs, thieves, murders, rapists, drug dealers, and just about every other type of criminal known to man. Why he even went so far as to call them the Devil’s own Bastards.” Alice chuckled as Robert grimaced. “They have a lot of names for you cousin. None of them very flattering.”
“I can’t take all the credit. Sure me, the cops, and the gangs of Goulcrest played with them until they broke and ran for the hills. You also know that the Black Saints turned a small group of Wilderness Scouts into a crack SpecOps team. One that played unholy hell with the Cheesehead supply lines at every turn. The rest of the Fallen Angles virtually turned the enter Lineberry region into a deathtrap for any Cheesehead unit that dared to enter that area.” Robert figured that he should be up front with the Royals. He wasn’t going to take the credit for the work that the rest of the team had done on their own.
“We don’t doubt that Mister Wolff. Though it was your work with the people of Goulcrest that was the true resistance during this occupation. I know that your team deserves more than a little R-n-R but we’re in need critical Intel.” Alice told him sadly as she waved for Robert to join her at the holo-tank. “As you can see our next objective is Goulcrest and the spaceport there. What can you tell us about the units between where we are now and there?”
“There might be a mixed bag of units equaling a full Brigade or light Regiment in size between us and Goulcrest, your Majesty. The Cheeseheads pulled everything they had from the cities and surrounding areas to stop your advance. That’s if there are any left for you to worry about. The gangs and cops of Goulcrest are currently hunting down the stragglers in hunter-killer teams of two NV-two-G Fury Reconnaissance Cars and one BR-one-ten BEARS.” Robert told the gathered Royals and Death Dealer Commanders with a nasty chuckle. “If the reports that Captain Wallace has been getting from his people are even halfway accurate. We should have a clean run straight into Goulcrest with only minor engagements. Mostly the lone fanatical holdout. Either way it’s a twenty-seven-hour march to Goulcrest.”
“How many lone holds are we looking at? What types of holdouts are talking about? The straggler that fell to the side of the road because of mechanical breakdown or the fanatical follower with a death wish.” James asked him quickly.
“Depends sire. If I had to guess. I would say that it’ll most likely be a mix of the two. The resistance was able to tag the most fanatical of units that landed. That the good news. The bad news most of them were frontline troops that headed out from the spaceport the second they unloaded from their transports. There were a few REMF units that came through that fit the diehard fanatic levels. They were used to quail the resistance in most places. Most of those got torn up by the look resistance. Especially in Goulcrest. It seems that the local gangs have a very dim outlook on people killing their neighbors for no good reason.” Robert snarled then chuckled evilly.
“At least that worthless cock bite Grayson Vanderbilt is no longer a problem for the Empire. We saw the remains of House of Parliament, and the Government Center. No one could walk away from whatever hit that place.” James grunted.
“You’re wrong sire. Vanderbilt did survive. He’s currently a guest of the Demon Pistols in Goulcrest.” Robert chuckled evilly.
“What?! Vanderbilt is still alive!” James demanded of Robert in shock. “HOW?!”
“That worthless piece of shit wasn’t near the old House of Parliament when it was nailed by the Cheeseheads. He was at his estate in the country when the assault force came in. They took out most of the Parliament with that one attack. Vanderbilt and two other Reps survived. Simply because they weren’t in the Parliament apartments. The other two survivors are Jennifer Julian and Danial Gentry. Only Jennifer Julian is worth going after. Gentry is a worthless slug right next to Vanderbilt. Though if the reports are true Gentry bought the farm just before you made planetfall. I know that Julian is still alive because the gangs in Ivory Lynx protected her.” Robert told James bluntly.
“How far is it to Ivory Lynx?” Alice demanded.
“Two days forced march by ground, six hours by air-assault shuttle, three hours by dropship. Either way it won’t matter. That whole region was liberated four days before you landed. Mostly thanks to Jennifer Julian’s leadership of the local resistance. If you want to save anyone I suggest you head directly for Goulcrest.” Robert told them all.
“Who are we going to save?” Katsumi asked with a sly grin.
“A young lady I made a promise to. I always keep my fracking promises Reverend Mother. Not even death will keep me from fulfilling this one.” With that Robert turned and headed for the exit. He stopped just before leaving the T-98 and looked over his shoulder at the gathered Royals. “Just like my great uncle.”
James looked over at his mother Maiha as Combat Arms Warrant Officer Robert Wolff left the TOC. “What the hell does that mean mom?”
“That come hell or highwater Robert Wolff will always come home.” Maiha answered with a heavy sigh. “Filling a thousand body bags if he has to.”
“Tell me something Maiha. Is he truly as deadly as yourself?” Alice asked her.
“Trust me when I say there goes the only Death Dealer to ever challenge either of my legends.” The note of utter defeat in Maiha’s voice spoke far more than her words. “The Whitechapel Ripper has done what no other Death Dealer could. I fear that the ‘Man called Death’ truly has a successor. One who is worthy of the name. He is a warrior that is even tougher, meaner, and deadlier. I cry over the price he had to pay for that title. I cry for his loss of humanity. His enemies shall know and fear his name. It shall become Number One with a bullet. His name will be legion, and it will be Death. There will be no escape from this fate for him now. All we can do is stand as witnesses to the birth of his legend and pray.”
“And just what would you have us pray for, kōhai?” Katsumi asked of Maiha.
“Pray that one day Warrant Officer Robert Wolff finds peace.” Maiha sighed. “Before he loses his life on the battlefield.”
“I have a feeling mother that the day our cousin crosses the River Styx. He will be in the company of more than a few souls of his enemies. He’ll also spit in the eye of the Ferryman with a relish unlike any other.” James told his mother with a chuckle that held no hummer. “He’ll live up to that old saying about Death Dealers. In more ways than just one.”
“You may very well be right about that James.” Maiha sighed as she looked out the rear of the T-98. “For now, I suggest we plan on following his suggestion and head for Goulcrest. Give the order to move out ten hours from now. I want us to be in Goulcrest no later than eighteen-hundred tomorrow.”
“Understood ma’am.” James said as he saluted his mother. He turned to the gathered commanders of the 1st Death Dealer Battlegroup. “You heard the Empress. Time to finish this fracking mess people.”
Northern Continent, Western Hemisphere, San Vitruvio, Gorgonzola Empire
22nd Death Dealer Battlegroup T-98 TOC
Lady Saris Victoria stood quietly looking down at the holo-tank in the center of the Goliath T-98 Mobile Command Post. The 18 combat divisions of her battlegroup had hit San Vitruvio with a vengeance. They weren’t alone. The 120 Empyreal Army combat divisions of her taskforce had broken down into 6 Combined Arms armies. Those 138 divisions were ripping the very heart out of the Gorgonzola Planetary Defense Forces of San Vitruvio. Over the last three days they decimated 9 heavy armor divisions, 8 Armored Power Suit divisions, 18 Armored Infantry divisions, 24 Light Infantry divisions, and 26 aerospace fighter Wings.
When she gave the order to destroy every last military unit on San Vitruvio she hadn’t expected her commanders to take that order to the limit. If it could be used for military purposes they destroyed it utterly. Manufacturing plants, power plants, communication terminals, if it could be used to support the Cheesehead war efforts it was destroyed. The soldiers of the San Vitruvio PDF were given a choice. Surrender or die. That was their only choice. Only the civilians were left alone by her invading forces.
“How much longer until our advanced guard hits the outer limits of Arco dei Gavi, General Lucas?” Saris asked of the nearest commander.
“Fourteen to eighteen hours at the most, Lady Saris. The second combat team is pushing hard. The first and third combat teams are sweeping wide to engage the enemy’s flank units. We should have the capital surrounded in twenty-six hours. The six combined arms armies are even now sweeping aside the last of the resistance forces of the San Vitruvio PDF. The only thing between our Combat Divisions and the Capital is the city’s own defenders.” General Lucas answered honestly with a savage smile.
“Have they pulled back within the city limits yet?” Saris asked coldly trying to hide her worry over a worse case scenario. She really wanted to avoid a battle within a city. She had even given orders to avoid pitched city battle to all of her commanders. So far that order had been followed. Thankfully most of the San Vitruvio PDF commanders had felt the same way.
“If the orbital scans are accurate. The defenders of Arco dei Gavi are taking up positions around the outer city limits. They’ve setup their defenses in a triple layer ring-defense.” Lucas told her as he looked over at the Colonel in charge of Intelligence. “Colonel Stills what have you learned from those POWs?”
“A great deal sir. It seems that the LARS-D teams were able capture one of the defense commanders. The outer zone or zone one as they call it is covered by fixed direct fire artillery emplacements, MLRS targeted impact zones, heavy antiaircraft guns, and landmines. Zone two’s boundary is marked by a multiple rows of concertina wire stacked four high and five deep. On the other side of this fence is an area covered by ninety-millimeter chain gun lasers with interlocking fields of fire. That is not the only surprise in that zone. There are tower mounted one-twenty-five PPCs every two-thousand meters. The final ring is nothing more than a nonstop kill box. Bunkered tanks, anti-APS guns, heavy lasers, man portable PPCs, IFVs, you name it. Just behind the inner most ring are the MLRS and mobile artillery units. Those are all just inside the city limits.” Colonel Stills explained as he read from a printout. “In short Lady Saris. The whole area surrounding Arco dei Gavi is one nonstop heavy fortification.”
“Damn. Looks like we’ll have to order a Rolling Thunder to break their lines. Have Admiral Cosby send in his Corvettes, and Frigates. Order her to concentrate their firepower on this area to the south of the capital city.” Saris ordered as she placed her finger on the area in question.
“Consider it done, Lady Saris. I have no desire to hit those lines without a shit ton of preparation bombardment.” Her XO snarked. “That is some nasty defensive fortifications surrounding that city.”
“All the reason more to blast it from space. I say we have the Katsumi nail the place with a mass driver attack. Four or five KK rounds and the city will be leveled. No need to put our troops in harm’s way trying to free a bunch of Cheesehead civilians. Secure them and their so-called cock sucking worthless Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana.” Said General Dale Strom from the 19th Death Dealer Heavy Armored Division.
“Dale we’ve had this conversion before. Orbital bombardment is off the table per orders from the Emperor. We’re trying to liberate the people of the Gorgonzola Empire. Not destroy them to the last man or woman. They’re innocent of their leader’s crimes. That doesn’t mean the soldiers who are manning those defensive weapons will be shown any mercy.” Saris snarled at the one man in her command that had been giving her the most grief. “You go bucking the chain of command again. I’ll see you in a Circle of Equals.”
“If that’s what you want, Lady Saris. I’d say it’s high time for a change in command. Once you’re out of the way we’ll pull back to our dropships and leave this rock. Once in orbit we’ll drop a seven-forty core cracker. Ending the threat of the Gorgonzola Empire once and for all. No need to spill any more Death Dealer blood over these worthless pigs.” Stills snarled as he pulled his combat knife from its sheath on his hip.
Lady Saris just sighed and shook her head. The crack of the gunshot echoed through the T-98’s Command room. No one was paying attention to the 22nd Battlegroup’s XO as he drew his sidearm. With less than a tenth of a second Stills never had a chance to deploy his bio-armor. Not that it would have done him any good. Lieutenant General Mike Deveron had come up through the Infantry Officer Ranks. His single shot slammed home in the back of Stills’ head just below the base of his skull. Snipers have a term for the placement of shots like this. They called it disconnecting the computer. For one simple reason. It was truly a one shot, one kill hit.
“Anyone else want to get stupid?” Mike snarled at the remaining commanders.
“Mike put that away will you?” Saris sighed then looked at her remaining General Staff Officers. “On second thought keep it out Mike. Davenport you got something to say. How about you Steadman? Or you Rockwell. Do any of you feel like facing me on the sands? This is your last chance.”
When no one spoke up Saris chuckled. “Put it away Mike. I think they finally got the drift. Let’s get this party moving. I want the head of Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana on a stake by this time tomorrow.”
“YES MA’AM! DEATH IS DEALT BY OUR HANDS!” The gather Generals called out as one. In years to come when Lady Saris Victoria sat back in her beach chair drinking chilled alcoholic drinks looking out over the deep blue waters on the ocean world of Cayo Hueso at her retirement home. It would be this moment that would bring a small smile of satisfaction. A time when good men and women stood in the face of evil and refused to back down from the fight.
She did the only thing she could in response to her Command Staff’s battle cry. “RING THE BELLS OF HELL DEATH DEALERS!”
Royal Bunker below the Palace, Arco dei Gavi
Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana could only sit and stair at the vid-screen of his world. With each pasting moment the blue that represented his forces slowly gave way to the red of the invading Empyreal Forces. All of the Eastern Hemisphere was a deep crimson red along with the Southern Continent of the Western Hemisphere. Even here on the Northern Continent only a small part of his once mighty empire remained. An area of no more than 58 square miles. From hundreds of star systems to little more than his capital city.
Gone were the millions of soldiers that once valiantly defended his empire. Only fanatically devout old men and young boys dreaming of glory remained between him and the advancing Death Dealer battlegroup. Even this force of hastily gather defenders was being commanded by his highest-ranking military officers. He had Green Star Generals acting as frontline company commanding officers.
“Damnation how could it all have gone so wrong?” Juliana sighed heavily.
“What was that dear?” Empress Marisha Juliana asked him.
Innocenzo looked over at his wife as she stood in the doorway to his war room. “Nothing dear. Just complaining to the gods.”
“It does no good to complain to the gods and goddesses Innocenzo. They refuse to hear the words of us poor mortals. No matter how worthy we are of their attention in times such as these.” Marisha grunted as she walked into the room. She looked at the vid-screen and sighed herself. “Is that truly all that is left?”
“I whish that it weren’t. Sadly, the Human Empire hit our planet with a military force that was almost three times our original number.” Innocenzo looked over at her and asked one more time. “Marisha will you please take the escape ship? The Empire is lost. It is not too late for you to escape to one of the Outer Rim systems that haven’t fallen to the Human Empire.”
“Our children are already gone Innocenzo. My place is here by your side.” Marisha said with a wistful tone of sadness in her voice. “No matter how this war ends.”
The rumble of warship engines overhead ended any further discussion of Marisha leaving the planet by dropship. Marisha gave her husband a soft look. “From the sounds of if Innocenzo. The Golden Hawk would never get off the ground before being blasted from the skies. Those were the first of the Death Dealer warships to fly through our airspace, and they won’t be the last.”
The sounds of Naval PPCs, PPLs, Railguns, and autocannons could be heard next. Even thirty feet underground. The next things the Royal Couple knew plaster dust was fallen down from the celling thanks to the impact vibrations of those power weapons. They may be more than 25mls away, but their impact was still being felt in their bunker. They could only imagine what those weapons were doing to the city’s defensive works as they rained down.
“It seems our time as rulers is almost at an end love. The Death Dealers will be at the gates within the day. Our only hope now is the citizens of our great city. Though I doubt they’ll put up much of a resistance. They’ll be untrained foolish amateurs fighting against battle hardened professionals of the first order. It would be best if they died in their sleep.” Innocenzo grunted.
Before Marisha could correct her husband the main doors to their bunker were smashed inward. Even before the smoke and dust could settle twenty-five heavily armed men rushed into the main portion of the bunker. As Innocenzo and Marish were pulling themselves off the floor the sound of gunfire echoed through the bunker. Innocenzo instinctively threw Marisha back down to the floor and covered her with his own body. For ten minutes the screams of dying men and automatic gunfire could be heard throughout the bunker. There was even a few explosions that rocked the heavily fortified bunker.
Innocenzo knew that some of those explosions came from the new Mark-9 Panzerfaust antiarmor rockets and P-57B1 antipersonnel fragmentation grenades. When the last shot was fired seven men entered the war room. Innocenzo took one look at their uniforms and weapons. He knew that there would be no reasoning with these men. They were here to end his life in the slim hope of end the war before the Death Dealers entered the city massacring everyone before them.
One man stepped in front of the others. He along with every other soldier there was dressed in the uniform for the Royal Praetorian Guard. He pulled a sheet of paper from his coat pocket and began to read aloud. Innocenzo and Marisha realized far too late that there would be no reasoning with these men. Nor would there be any chance of escaping their fates at the hands of these warriors.
“Innocenzo Juliana you are found guilty of High Treason against the people of the Gorgonzola Empire. You are hereby sentenced to death. You are to be drawn and quartered at the foot of the palace steps. Marisha Juliana you are found guilty of Political Indifference to the suffering of the people of the same Empire. Your sentence is one thousand years in a Clear-plex Crystal in suspended animation to be put on display in the Government Square. Captain take them away.”
While he was reading from the paper the other six Praetorian Guards were busy securing Innocenzo and Marisha. Their arms were bound behind their backs with heavy cord at the wrist and elbow. The former Royal Couple were gaged the blindfolded before a think black bag was pulled over their heads. To insure that they couldn’t run their ankles were fitted with old fashioned iron shackles with a twenty-inch chain running between the cuffs.
Once secured the now condemned couple were led from the one place they believed to be totally safe for the outside world. As they were dragged through the bunker they did not see the dead bodies of the remaining Royal Advisors and Military High Command. Only the servants were spared the bloody blade of vengeful justice.
Office of the Grand War Commander, Ministry of Defense.
Grand War Commander Jules Gavreau was looking at the same view the vid-screen in his office when the door was thrown open by a young private. “Sir I have an urgent message from Major Faust. Freyja’s daughter has collected her rightful due. The Valkyrie rides with the Goddess.”
Gavreau looked over at the young man and asked. “Are you sure that is what the message reads private? Are those the exact words?”
“Yes sir.” The private nodded his head and pulled the paper with the message from his pocket. He read aloud what was printed there. “TO Grand War Commander Jules Gavreau. FROM Major Peter Faust Second Battalion, Praetorian Guards, First Royal Palace Detachment. Freyja’s daughter has collected her rightful due. The Valkyrie rides with the Goddess. End of message sir.”
“Thank the gods we have a chance to save our city now. Take this message to General Cluster in sector three.” Gavreau order the private as he pulled a sealed envelope from the center draw of his desk. “You’re to place this in his hands only private. I don’t care what anyone else says. His hands only understand?”
“Yes sir. What should I do if someone tries to stop me?” The young man asked.
“You have my permission to shoot anyone who gets in your way. Now get going.” The private didn’t ask any more questions. He just took the letter and hauled ass out of the last remaining Command post for the Empire. With his instructions to Cluster on the way Gavreau leaned back in his chair. He closed his and prayed. “God speed your feet and send his angels to guard your path, private. Amen. Wither you know it or not private. In your hands is our last chance at saving the city from total destruction.”
“Sir, that message the private just delivered. Was it about Operation Valkyrie?” Gavreau’s aid asked as he walked into his office closing the door behind him.
“It was. Within the next two hours Juliana and that whore wife of his will no longer be an obstruction to our surrender. Two hours from now ex-Emperor Innocenzo will be dead. While the ex-Empress Marisha will spend the next one thousand years in a Clear-plex suspended animation crystal put on public display in the Government Square for her part in Innocenzo’s crimes.” Gavreau snarled. Unlike most people he knew that once Marisha was placed into the Clear-plex she would die within the hour. “May they both face ten-thousand deaths in Hell.”
“Sir is there any chance of someone coming to their rescue?”
“The only people who will come to that pair’s rescue are the Death Dealers.” Gavreau chuckled evilly. He knew better than anyone else what happened to the other supporters of Juliana. Over the last eight hours each and every one of them had been given a choice. Death by their own hand or 1000 years incased in Clear-plex put on display in the Government Square. Only two had taken the last option. “Speaking of those deadly men and women. They should be here within the next day or so. Let’s just hope that Cluster can work out a peaceful surrender.”
“And if they refuse to accept our surrender, sir?”
“Then pray that we can hold them long enough to evacuate the city of civilians. Because they’re going to crash this palace flat and the surrounding city with it.” Gavreau answered his aid honestly. “You want to know what our greatest mistake was in this war Lieutenant.”
“Yes sir. I know that we made quite a few mistakes. Though I would have to say that underestimating Emperor James’ anger was the biggest.”
“Oh that is only our second biggest mistake. The biggest mistake we made was trying to capture and hold the planet of Apollo six.” Gavreau chuckled at the look of confusion that crossed the Lieutenant’s face. “There is a reason senior field commanders call that planet the Devil’s Graveyard. The people of that planet have a nasty habit of killing whole armies on their own. Of the last seven expeditionary taskforces we sent in only one has come back as a whole. The rest barely made it off that rock as a combat effective force.”
“Just who are these people sir?”
“Let me put it like this Lieutenant. That planet gave birth to the deadliest of Death Dealers. A man that even we respected and feared. If you were to ask a common Death Dealer about the man. They would tell you that he is Death himself.” Gavreau picked up the last report from Apollo six. “And if this report is accurate. There now a new Death Dealer that matches that long dead warrior. One that should be feared and respected even more because he has made a deal with the devil at midnight. One that’s a true Grim Reaper. They call him the Whitechapel Ripper.”
-----tbc-----
Chapter 23
Goulcrest, Apollo 6
Overlooking the spaceport
When the forward recon units of the 1st Death Dealer Battlegroup rolled into the capital of Apollo they were swarmed by the local citizens. More than a few of those Death Dealers were surprised by the welcome they received. One of the unit though had the pleasure of reporting the destruction of the spaceport. There was no way the Death Dealer could use the spaceport in its current condition. Sergeant in charge of the recon team put the feelings of his men into words. “Whoever or whatever hit this place really fracked it up big time.”
“God damn, Sergeant. What the frack did they hit this place with?” Asked the gunner of his M-68 Wolfhound armored recon vehicle.
“If I had to make a guess. I would say someone collapsed the retaining wall for fuel storage yard first. Then blew the fuel storage tanks flooding the field and strip. Once it was flooded they set off the fuel. All that fuel turned this place into one massive barbeque.” The Sergeant chuckled as he took out a cigar and lite it. “Whoever did this is one nasty Mother. I sure wouldn’t want to face him in a back alley or on the battlefield.”
“No way one guy did this Sergeant. It would have taken at least a six-man team to pull off this level of destruction.” His driver said as he rose up from his seat.
“For a normal Death Dealer team, you would be right. This was done by one of our Special Operations people. Those guys aren’t normal. Not by a long shot. Every one of those guys are crazier than ten shithouse rats hoped up on Blue Night crystal.” At the mention of the third most powerful hallucinogenic drug in human history had his team chuckling. “Trust boys and girls. Those people over in SpecOps are a whole other type of crazy. Whatever you do never piss one off on purpose.”
“If this is what they do when they’re pissed I’ll make sure to leave them alone.” The driver chuckled as he surveyed the destroyed spaceport.
“That wasn’t done by a pissed off SpecOps trooper. They were very much in control. When they did this people.” The Sergeant grunted as he puffed on his cigar. “You never what to see what they can do when pissed off. Let’s head for our next check point people. This is just the first of five. The next two are ammo dumps.”
After a round of ‘yes sergeant’ from his crew the 20-ton tracked recon vehicle headed for its next destination. As they were rolling away form the spaceport the Sergeant radioed in his report on the spaceport. He knew that the higher ups weren’t going to like his report. They were most likely wanting to use the spaceport for aerospace fighter operations and dropship LZ.
Eastend, Goulcrest
“Yo Switch! You seeing this shit man! Are the Cheeseheads retreating back to the city or something?” Crazy Joe Witeman asked his gang’s leader.
“Take a better look at those unit crests Crazy. Those are Empyreal Army units walking down the street. Looks like the big boys have finally arrived.” Steve Switch hitter Tomson chuckled as he pointed at the R4-3T Firestorm 30-ton Scout APS that was passing them just then. “If I had to guess I would say this unit are Death Dealers or regular Army. Most likely regular Army.”
“Neither young man. We’re the third Light Armor Regiment. We’re a mercenary unit. Better known as ‘the Queen’s Lancers’.” Both gang members turned to face the man who had spoken to them. They were both shocked to see that he wore the rank of major on his color taps. There was also two other men in uniform escorting the major. “Can you gentlemen tell me where to find a Mister Steve Tomson?”
“That’s me buddy. Care to explain why you’re looking for me?” Switch asked eyeing the three men up and down carefully.
“Ah prefect. Major Reed Wolfram with the Queen’s Lancers’ recruitment team. You and your people come highly recommended.” The major told the gangster with a smile.
“Okay what does that mean major?” Switch asked in confusion.
“How would you and your people like to get off Apollo six?” The major asked.
“Cut to the chase Major. I ain’t got all day for bullshit.” Switch snarled.
“I like that. Straightforward and to the point. I’m looking to recruit you and the members of your gang. You’ll been training in antiterrorist and insurgent tactics by one of the best Death Dealers in the Empire. The pay is good, and it’s honest work. You get to see far more of the universe. You won’t have to worry about where your next meal is coming from. We take care of our own.” Major Wolfram told him then gave Switch a lopsided grin. “Plus, we can get your records wiped clean. You and your people will never have to worry about arrest warrants again. Unless you screwup and break the law after you sign up with us.”
“How long do we have to think about your offer?” Switch asked him.
“Yo Switch. You can’t be taking this joker’s offer seriously, man. I mean come on bro. None of these merc bastards ever gave a shit about us before. Why should we trust them now? They’ll just throw our asses to the wolves the first chance they get. They always do.” Crazy Joe snapped.
“Shut it Joe. Now!” Switch ordered his second in command. When he saw the look in Crazy Joe’s eyes Switch sighed. “Can you give us a minute Major?”
“Not a problem Mister Tomson. Here’s my card. Just show this the guard on duty at our TOC. He’ll show you to my tent.” Wolfram handed Switch a card with his contact info on it and turned to walk away. “The offer stands for as long as we’re planet side Tomson. Don’t take to long to talk it over with your people. There are certain parties that are already talking about locking your ass away for public safety.”
“Crazy call in the whole fracking crew.” If there was one thing that could be said to describe Steve ‘Switch hitter’ Tomson it was this. His was quick witted and faster on the uptake than any one in his gang. “That’s a fracking order Crazy.”
“What’s going on boss? I’ve never seen you like this. What did that soldier boy mean by locking our asses up for public safety?” Crazy Joe asked him honestly.
Switch sighed heavily as he gave Crazy Joe a cross look. “Let me explain this using simple words Crazy. That Major just told us that whoever gets appointed to Governor for our planet will lock our asses up. You know all that training Ripper gave us? It made us too dangerous to stay on the streets. We either get off this rock or face long term stays at the gray bar hotels.”
“Oh shit. Not fracking good. Do you really think the new government would actually lock us up for no good reason? After everything we did to free this fracking city and damned planet. I mean the gangs were the resistance for Goulcrest.” Crazy asked Switch as he sent out the message to the rest of the Eastside Rattlers.
“For some reason I do, Joe. We’re a threat to not only each other, but the police as well. Think about it bro. Ripper turned us into a bunch of real bad ass covert resistance fighters. If we were to put that training to use against the other gangs or worse yet the cops. The streets would run red with the blood of gangbangers, cops, and civilians alike.” The more Switch explained the situation for Crazy the more he realized just how fracked up the situation was. “I don’t know about you and the others Crazy but I’m taking the offer to get off this rock. At least I’ll be free and getting paid to fight for once.”
“You going to get with the other leaders about this, boss?” Crazy asked him as they headed for the gangs clubhouse.
“I get the feeling that they’re already being approached by the other merc units.” Switch answered him honestly. “I got twenty gold credits that says every major gang will disappear from Goulcrest over the next few months.”
“Not taking any action on that bet boss.” Crazy Joe answered quickly then turned thoughtful. “Tell me something Steve. Do you think we should take them up on their offer? I mean what way are you going to swing? Staying or going?”
“This is between you, me, and the lamppost Joe. So, keep it to damned yourself. I’m taking the Major up on his offer.” Steve Tomson stopped and looked around the street at they were currently walking down. This was his hood, and it was a barely above slum level living. “I got no one and nothing to hold me here anymore. The Cheeseheads killed my family to as an example to the rest of our hood. Then they blasted my home to smithereens. Though I might try to sign on with the regular Army.”
“I hear ya bro. I ain’t got anything to keep me here either. Those damned son-of-bitches flattened my whole block trying to flush out our resistance cell.” Crazy Joe snarled. “Didn’t do them any good. Our junior leaguers slammed down on them hard. Killed every last one of those cock bites while taking heavy losses themselves. It went down while we were dealing with that convoy of heavy artillery. Totally fracking sucks rock big time.”
“Yeah I know what you mean bro. Those gods be damned Brownshirt mother humping low life cock suckers did a lot of damage before we started taking them down. I think that’s why the incoming big wigs are looking to get rid of us.” Steve told him. “One way or another. Word of advice bro. Come with me.”
“After we give the heads up to the rest of the Rattlers I say we head for the nearest regular Army Unit and enlist Steve. If they won’t take us then we go find that merc unit. Sound good?” Joe suggested as the two turned and headed for the gangs clubhouse further off the main streets of their neighborhood.
“You know for a dimwit you do have your moments. Sounds like a solid plan bro. Let’s get this shit done.” Steve chuckled as they walked down the street.
Northside, Goulcrest
Colonel Bobby T. Lumhoe, Commander for the 1st of the 36th Armor Battalion, stood with upper half of his body just outside the turret of his 85-ton Mark VII Löwe super heavy tank. Even as he looked around at the city of Goulcrest he knew that these people would cut his peoples’ throats in their sleep if they got pissed. This point was driven home by three young men standing on street corner. All three were armed with SEM-48A3 7.62x51mm assault rifles. “From the looks of those boys we know who lead the resistance in this area.”
“What about the ones on the other corner sir? They’re wearing deferent gang colors.” His loader said pointing the group of three young men across the street.
“Must be rival gangs and this street is the boundary line for their territories.” Lumhoe grunted over the intercom. “Seven will get you ten Corporal. Those six gangbangers are out here as a warning to us.”
“What kind of warning sir?” The Corporal asked.
“We cross the line, and we’ll end up dead. Link patch me through to the rest of the battalion.” Lumhoe ordered his radio operator and hull gunner.
“Patched in sir.” Came the almost instantaneous reply from Corporal Link.
Lumhoe keyed his mike. “All Saber units this is Saber Six. Clear and safe all weapons. Only fire if fired upon. Do not, I repeat, do not engage unless fired upon. There are armed civilian resistance in the crowd. Saber Six out.”
As if to underscore the warning the gunner for the tank called out. “Sir, we’re coming up on a roadblock. Fortified position armed with one M-seven-fifty Heavy Gatlin anti-armor Laser and one M-two-fifty Heavy Barrel Flexible Machinegun.”
“Alright people everyone stay nice and frosty here. Those guns may not be able to hurt Fury but if they have those. Then it’s a sure bet they have something heavier covering this roadblock.” Lumhoe ordered he tank crew as they rolled to stop 25 meters from the roadblock. “Sergeant Lock man the TC position. I’ll be right back.”
As Colonel Lumhoe climbed down from his tank he couldn’t help but mutter. “I hope.”
“Okay buddy that close enough. Who are you? What’s your unit?” Called out a young man around 25 dressed in the uniform of a Goulcrest SWAT officer.
“Colonel Robert Lumhoe. First of the thirty-sixth Armor, fifth Armored Division, first Death Dealer Battlegroup. That good enough officer?” Lumhoe called back.
“Maybe. I still need to see some ID there pal. I got orders from my boss to double check everyone entering the city. Friendly or otherwise.” The man yelled back.
Lumhoe pulled his ID packet from his uniform pants pocket and tossed over to the SWAT officer. He pointed to the street corner with the gang members. “Mind if I talk to those men over there?”
“Be my guest Colonel. Just don’t be surprised if they tell you to piss off.” The officer warned him. “I won’t call them exactly social. On the eastside of the street are Tagger McFee and the Ruffins. On the westside is Deadman Davis with the Baseball Night Furies. Don’t turn your back on them.”
Lumhoe pulled out a spiral note pad from his BDU jacket pocket. He flipped it open to the 5th pages. A small smile came to his face. “Perfect two of the four men I was sent in to talk with. Can you tell me where I can find Michel ‘Meat’ Hook for the Northside Stranglers and Lyle Longworth for the Ramblers?”
“What in the world do you want with those slugs Colonel?” The SWAT officer demanded.
“That information is above your paygrade officer. Just tell me to find them.” Lumhoe snarled at being questioned by the cop.
“No good sir. You either tell what you want those four men for, or you don’t pass my check point. No matter what the CO says.” The cop smirked.
“Officer do you know who or what you’re trying to stare down but take some advice. That beast over there is a Mark-seven Lion heavy tank. It weights in at eighty tons dry and eighty-five tons combat. It’s armed with a one-forty-five-millimeter smooth bore main gun, one M-two-forty ten-millimeter coax mounted chain gun, one M-two-forty hull mounted ten-millimeter chain gun, a TC cupola mounted M-thirty-five fifteen-millimeter eight-barrel Gatlin gun, and one M-two-forty-five-B rooftop pedestal mounted ten-millimeter chain gun. That is enough firepower to flatten a city block. I twitch wrong you all die, and this roadblock becomes a hole in the ground.” Evil grin that graced Lumhoe’s face sent chills down the SWAT officer’s spin. “You may have dealt with a Death Dealers before in a civilian capacity but now you’re dealing with us in a wartime capacity. Whole new ballgame shithead.”
The SWAT Officer tossed Lumhoe his ID saying. “Whatever you want to believe Colonel. You and your people are still citizens of the Empire. If I want to keep you here. This is where you’ll stay.”
“Buddy boy this is only one tank out of seventy. The rest of my battalion is about a mile behind me. Think long and hard about your next move. My boys and girls can get real nasty when they want too.” Lumhoe snarled as he turned to look at the two gang leaders. “Mister McFee, Mister Davis, would you care to join me?”
When neither gang leader moved Lumhoe sighed. “Gentlemen that wasn’t a request.”
At those words the TC’s M-35 swung to point at Davis while the pedestal mounted M-245 swung in the opposite direction to point at McFee. Needles to say the two gangbangers got the hit. They hand their weapons to their fellow members and walked to the center of the street. Lumhoe could tell that both men were hardcore OGs and not to be trust. I gave his Gunner a silent signal. One that said take no prisoners. Once both young men were in front of the massive tank Lumhoe smiled at their false bravado in the face of certain death.
“Alright old man we’re here. What do you want?” McFee snarled even though he was clearly keeping his eyes on the massive main gun pointed at the roadblock. He and Davis had good reason for worrying about Lumhoe’s actions. They had gang members helping to manned that roadblock. They both also knew that none of their weapons would put a dent in that monstrous tank.
“I want to offer you and your people a chance to get off this planet before the shit storm hits.” Over the next twenty minutes Colonel Bobby T. Lumhoe laid out the future the two gangs were facing. Neither gang leader like the idea of having the cops hunting down their gang members down one at a time. They had busted their asses to free Goulcrest from the Cheeseheads. Now they were being seen as a threat by the incoming Government. One that needed to be removed at all costs.
“Are you tell me that after everything we did to drive out the Cheeseheads. We got to deal with a bigger bunch of assholes who answer to our own Empire?” Davis snarled then looked up at the tank. “Can you tell me why they want us gone?”
“It’s rather simple young man.” Lumhoe said as he pulled a gold 50 credit coin from his pocket. “I got a double eagle that says you two were trained by Warrant Office Robert Wolff and you passed that training on to your people. Am I right?”
The two gangbangers just chuckled and nodded their heads as he put the coin away. McFee was the next to ask a question. “So what are you offering Colonel?”
“Full clemency for every member of your gangs that signs a four-year contract with the Empyreal Army or Navy. We give you a chance to use the training and skills you already have or to learn new skills. You’ll also receive the standard benefits of three hots, a cot, a spiffy uniform, and half assed pay for put your life on the line. Should you survive to the end of your enlistment you’ll get a chance at a new life. I won’t lie to you men. The life of a soldier is not for everyone. You could die on some backwater planet that no one in the Empire has ever heard about. The chances of a hero’s reward are next to nothing.” Colonel Lumhoe figured he needed to be up front with these street hardened young men.
“We need to talk to our members Colonel. Can we get back to you later?” Davis asked.
“Not a problem, Mister Davis. Take your time. Don’t take too long though. The new administration will be taking over in three weeks.” Lumhoe took out his note pad and wrote down the location for the Recruitment unit’s location. “Have whoever wants to enlist report to this location within the next twenty-one days.”
After both gang leaders had the location Lumhoe remounted his tank. “Move out Corporal Snow. If that roadblock is still in the way. Crush it.”
“Yes sir.” The driver called out over the intercom before shifting into gear. The massive tank’s engine roared and moved forward. The people manning the roadblock quickly move to clear the way for the tank. Ten minutes later the rest of the battalion rolled through the same area unmolested. The sight of those massive war machines had a profound affect on the local gang members. Within ten days of that fateful confrontation at the roadblock all but two members of the Ruffins and three from the Ramblers enlisted in the Empyreal Army. The only reason those five young people didn’t enlist was their age. All five were under the legal age.
This situation was repeated over and over again all across Goulcrest. Gangs were approached by either merc or regular Army recruiters. Within ten days all but the youngest members of the major gangs had enlisted. None of the gang members would ever know that it was Robert Wolff who had arranged for them to be recruited. Robert had seen the danger signs for the gangs once the war was over. He knew that the more radical Law-n-Order crowd would want them gone or behind bars. To prevent this Robert had suggest that the Death Dealers and merc actively recruit the gangs. In his mind it was better to get them off the streets and planet.
Sky Reach Orphanage, Goulcrest
When the last of the Gorgonzola military had left Goulcrest Penny brought the smaller children up from the basement. She had also sent word to the gangs that were hiding the older children. The orphanage was once more filled with the sounds of children playing. There was only one sad point in her reopening the orphanage. In the last few days there was eight new babies and seven more children under the age of twelve added to their number. She only had one more duty to preform before sealing the basement safehouse for the foreseeable future. That duty was not hers alone. She was waiting for the only person who could carry out that duty with her to return from the battlefront.
The knock at the front door drew her attention and she turned to one of the older boys in her care. “Terry could you get that for me? I can’t step away from the stove right now. I don’t want to burn the sausage gravy.”
“Yes ma’am, Miss Penelope.” Terry said as he ran to answer the door. He didn’t see Penny flinch at being addressed as Miss Penelope.
“I really do wish he won’t call me that. I’m not that damned old yet.” Penny grumbled under her breath.
“Can I help you sir?” There was a paus as the man at the door answered. “Well Miss Penny is running the orphanage now.” Again, there was a paus. “No sir. I don’t think that now is a good time to visit. We’re about to sit down to dinner.”
“PENELOPE GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE AND TELL THIS RUG RAT TO LET ME IN!” When Penny heard the voice she dropped the frying pan. She ran from the kitchen to the front of the house. When she reached the entrance hallway she had to grab the door jam to hold herself up. There before her eyes was the one man she dearly want to see. “Hey there little sister. I told you I would come home.”
Penny ran the rest of the way and threw her arms around Robert’s neck crying. The rest of the children in the orphanage gathered in the hallway. All of them wondering who this strange man was and why was Miss Penelope crying against his chest. Only one of the older boys took a second look at Robert’s face. “Holy shit! ROB?! Is that really you bro? Where the hell have you been?”
“Spent the last few years at Camp Red Cloud on Seth in the New Egypt system. Then I returned here so I could raise merry hell with the Cheeseheads in Goulcrest, Danny.” Robert told the teenage boy with a wicked smile.
“Bullshit! Only Death Dealers train at Camp Red Cloud on Seth. Everyone knows that Rob. No way they would accept someone like us into their ranks. Where have you really been?” Danny demanded then pointed behind Robert in shock. “Wha… wha… what are they doing here?”
“I believe I can clear up your distrust of Warrant Officer Robert Wolff’s whereabouts for the last few years.” Emperor James Nakatoma said as he stepped inside the orphanage. He was followed by Empress Terresa, the Dowager Empress Maiha, War Princess Alice, Grand Lady Dai Etsu, and the Reverend Mother Katsumi.
“Danny it’s not polite to point.” A little girl of about six or seven scolded him. Then she whispered just load enough for him to hear. “They might be here to adopt one us. Behave yourself dummy.”
“Bethany go back to the kitchen little one.” When the little girl pouted he just pushed her towards the kitchen with a pat on her butt. Danny shook his head then bowed to the Royal Family. “Welcome to our home, Sky Reach orphanage your majesties.”
“Um Robert who are these people?” Penny asked as she wiped the tears from her eyes.
“Miss Penelope they’re the Royal Family!” Danny gasped.
“Not right now we’re not young man.” Maiha told him sternly. “Today we’re your older brother’s comrades in arms visiting his home.”
“Your majesty.” Penelope said as she curtsied finally realizing who was standing in the entrance hallway of her home. “How can I be of service?”
“It is we who have come here to provide a service. This orphanage is more than just a home to one of our Empire’s newest heroes. It is his very reason for living.” Terresa told Penelope as she pulled her to a standing position. “We have also come to carry out one finally duty for a fallen Death Dealer.”
“Penny, I need you to keep the kids in the family room or dining room. Understand?” Robert whispered into her ear. “We’re taking Father Mike to be buried.”
Penny just looked up into Robert’s eyes and asked. “Where?”
“Exactly where I said he would be, Peace Memorial Gardens.” He told her honestly. “I always keep my promises Penny. You know that.”
“That you do. You’ve never broken your promise to me or anyone else. You even kept your promise to return at the end of the war.” Penny sniffled. “You always beat the odds no matter how hard they’re stacked against you.”
“Robert is no ordinary Death Dealer young lady.” Katsumi told Penny with a small smile. “He is in many ways his great uncles equal. A man worthy to be his heir.”
“Just what does that mean, Reverend Mother?” Danny asked bluntly forgetting all about his manners. “Is Robby a real honest to god Death Dealer?”
“That he is young man. One who earned his right to wear the Imperial Blacks at an age where most fail. Only a handful have ever matched Warrant Office Wolff’s accomplishments. Only one has ever earned a nickname from his enemies.” Maiha told Penny and Danny with a friendly smile. At their looks of confusion Maiha chuckled. “His great uncle James J. Owens was called Death by friends and enemies alike. It seems that for some reason your big brother Robert’s friends and enemies have taken to calling him the Whitechapel Ripper.”
“That’s nothing new Majesty. People have been calling Robby the Whitechapel Ripper for as long as I can remember.” Penny giggled as Danny shrugged his shoulders. “As for people respecting and fearing him. Talk to any gangbanger in Whitechapel. They’ll all tell you the same thing. You don’t frack with Ripper or this orphanage.”
“I must say young lady. It is rather refreshing to have one of our subjects to so straightforward in their speech.” Dai Etsu chuckled then gave Penny a concerned look. “Though from the looks of things you’re a bit rag my dear. Tell me have you been running this orphanage all on your own?”
“Yes ma’am. Ever since Father Mike started working the resistance to fight against the Brownshirts of the Cheeseheads.” Penny confessed with a sad smile of pride. “He would have wanted me to carry on in his place.”
“Well, my dear that is no longer possible.” Dai Etsu told her as she caressed her cheek. Penny stiffed at hearing this. She wasn’t going to stop talking care of Sky Reach Orphanage. Father Mike had placed the orphanage and its children in her care. Dai Etsu could tell that Penny was set to argue the point.
“Young lady you have done a marvelous job. So far. However, this is more than you can handle on your own for the long term. Do not worry through.” Katsumi told her as she wave to someone standing outside on the porch. Before Penny could ask what was going on two Nightingale Sisters and two Daughters of the Dragon stepped through the door. “These Sisters of Ida-ten shall be taking over for you.”
“Then what am I supposed to do? I gave my word to Father Mike to look after the orphanage and the children.” Penny asked in confusion.
“You’ll be heading for Hades little one.” Dai Etsu told her with a sly smile as she looked around the room at the eight teenage children. “You and the others that are old enough to face the world alone.”
“Hades? Why would we be heading for Hades?” Danny asked for the other gathered teens voicing their same confusion.
“There are a two schools that are in need of new students. You all fit that need.” Dai Etsu informed them with a chuckle. “The Sisters know what they’re doing. You can trust them to take care of all your little brothers and sisters. The days of Sky Reach orphanage scrapping by and relaying on the protection of gangs are over.”
As if to underscore this point one of the Daughters of the Dragon shifted the swords at her hip. The woman gave them a savage smile and left the orphanage. Danny couldn’t hold back his curiosity an asked. “Where’s she going?”
“Sister Kathern is going to have a little talk with the local gangs and other criminal elements of Goulcrest.” Robert chuckled evilly as he answered Danny’s question. “As for you Danny boy. You need to take the rest of the teens up stairs and start packing your belongings.”
“Hold on Robby. What if we don’t want to leave Apollo six?” One of the other teenage girls asked him bluntly. “This is my home.”
“Marry listen to me. This is your chance to get ahead. The schools that you all will be attending are some of the best in the Empire.” Robby explained for the girl. “Look I wouldn’t steer you wrong. Just trust me like always. You can always return here after you graduate.”
Marry looked him in the eye then grabbed the hand of the girl next to her. “Come on guys. Let’s get to packing. Looks like we don’t have a choice. We’re heading for Hades, and some suck up schools.”
“You can go Mary, but I’m staying here.” One girl snapped.
“Sue, I’m only going to tell you once. Pull your head out of your ass and do as you’re told.” Robert snarled. Then gave the rest of the teenagers a death glare. “I’m not giving you a suggestion. That was a fracking order. Now move!”
As one the nine gathered teenagers ran from the room. Penny gave Robert a disapproving glare of her own. “Robert Wolff just what the frack are you up to?”
“Look Penny, I need you to trust me. This is for the best. The schools that you and the others will attend will give you one of the best educations in the Empire. Just do as you’re told.” Robert told her then pushed her towards the living room. “For now, keep the rest of the younger children occupied for the next twenty minutes.”
Penny just sighed and rounded up the smaller children in the living room. Robert turned to James and the rest of his Royal guests. “This way, your Majesties.”
Once they were in the basement Robert opened the cellar doors to the outside. Six Death Dealers entered the cellar carrying a black necrium steel coffin. Robert sighed then headed for the one room in the basement he didn’t want to open just them but knew that he had to. The basement’s hidden arms room. Once the door was opened three of the Death Dealers went inside. A few seconds later they returned carrying the body of Father Mike and placed him the coffin. The Captain in charge of the detail turned to Robert as they were closing the coffin.
“We’ll make sure he gets back to Fiddler’s Green Mister Wolff. We always take of our own. No matter where or even they fall.”
“Captain, Father Mike will not be returning to Fiddler’s Green. He died as a Death Dealer, but his greatest works were here at this orphanage.” Katsumi corrected him.
“Then where are we taking the Master Chief ma’am?” The Captain asked.
“To the only place that is befitting for one of Apollo six’s heroes. To the mountain side cemetery overlooking the city, Peace Memorial Gardens. Full honors Captain. Combat Arms Master Warrant Officer, James O’Brian was one of OURS.” Alice instructed the Death Dealers. “He will not be forgotten or dishonored.”
The detail all saluted at the same time then carried the coffin from the basement. As they left the basement Robert closed the outer door. He turned to Maiha asking. “Will his name at least be added to the Wall of Remembrance?”
“That is but one place his memory shall be held for all time.” Reverend Mother Katsumi told him as she place an arm over his shoulders. “Remember young Robert, Death Dealers always honor their fallen brothers and sisters.”
“So long as he isn’t forgotten.” Robert grunted then headed upstairs. “Right now, I got a sister that needs to pack for a trip to Hades.”
“This will be for the best cousin. I promise you.” James said to him.
Robert stopped on the third step of the stairs and looked over at James. “I’ll only say this once, cousin. If anything should happen to those kids at those schools. After I deal with the assholes. I’m coming for you.”
As Robert headed upstairs James turned to his mothers. “Why do I get the feeling that Ripper will gladly rip out of hearts and feed them to the dogs in the street?”
“Because he is as uncompromising when it comes to family as I am.” Maiha sighed looked up the stairs at the empty doorway. “Robert Wolff will shack the very pillars of heaven and hell to protect these children. Make no mistake about that my son.”
“I’ve said it before Maiha. I’ll say it again. You have a gift of understatement that is only surpassed by my grandmother.” James told her honestly.
“Then I hope you have an idea for how we’re going to honor Master Warrant Officer O’Brian in Fiddler’s Green. Because I sure as frack don’t.” James grunted.
“Worry not my son. I have a few ideas, but one stands out among them.” Maiha informed James as she took the steps with a grace that belied her strength.
Outside Arco dei Gavi, San Vitruvio, Gorgonzola Empire
1st/7th APS Regiment TOC, 5th Armored Division, 22nd Death Dealer Battlegroup
Colonel Jefferson Jackson looked at the two Lieutenants and one Yellow Star General from the Gorgonzola PDF in both wonder and confusion. Thirty minutes they had walked across No-man’s Land straight up to his front-line troops under a white flag. When he first heard what they we’re there for Jackson couldn’t believe his ears. The total, unconditional surrender of the remaining Gorgonzola Forces in and around Arco dei Gavi. As much as he wanted to accept their surrender he had to pass this one up the chain of command. He did the only thing he could.
“General I suggest you take a seat. This is going to take a while. I got to send this up the chain.” Jackson knew that the enemy General would walk out. Instead, the man sat down in a field chair.
“I will wait Comrade Colonel. I have been send here by the new ruling government.” The General told the very surprised Colonel. “My orders are not to return without an agreement between your forces and mine.”
“You know that Lady Saris might turn you down?” Jackson figured he might as well give the General the hard truth of the matter. “She has a real hardon for your Emperor and High Command.”
“She can have the Generals of the High Command. We will turn them over in one hour. As for the former Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana and his wife. They are no longer your concern. He was executed at sunrise on the palace steps. She was placed in a Clear-plex crystal at noon.” The General’s very blunt answer drew looks and gasps of surprise from the Death Dealer officers of the 1st/7th APS Regiment. “They were given a choice. They chose poorly.”
“I see. I hope you can provide proof. Because if you can’t Lady Saris will flatten every last inch of Arco dei Gavi.” Jackson snarled. “That’s not a threat General. It’s a stone-cold fact of life.”
“WE can provide proof Colonel. MY superiors wish to end this war. While there is still time to save what is left our nation.” The General told.
“Got news for you General. Your nation is dead. It doesn’t matter what else happens. The Gorgonzola Empire is through. Like me explain to you exactly where you and your superiors stand. Your Navy has been destroyed. Your Army is in ruins. The only active units you have left are the ones defending this city. Even now what was left your Planetary Defense Force is being blasted into the hereafter. Haven’t you figured it out yet shithead. We hit this planet with a tenth of our total military force. The rest of your nation was crushed just of fifth of our military.” Jackson whispered then went in for the kill. “Emperor James sent in only one, I repeat ONE, Death Dealer Battlegroup.”
“Just one Death Dealer Battlegroup.” The General whispered. “My Goddess. If just one Death Dealer Battlegroup could do this what would have happened if you hit us with all of your Battlegroups at once?”
“The war would have ended weeks ago. Then again most of your planets would have been turned into radioactive dust clouds. Understand something General. When Death Dealers go to war we never retreat, and never surrender. We pound our enemies into submission with our bar hands. We carve their hearts from their chests with our fingernails. Ripper their throats out with our teeth. Understand this General we bring everything that we are to the battlefield. That is a reason are battle cry is the most feared in the universe. Not because we have the best equipment or training. We fight for something far greater than ourselves.” Colonel Jackson was interrupted by the sounds of a FXDL-80 assault shuttle passing over head. “From the sounds of things your no longer my problem General.”
“What does that mean Colonel?” The Cheesehead General asked as he stood up.
“That shuttle is your ride. It seems that my CO wants to have a word with you.” Jackson snorted. “I told you that I had to send your request up the chain.”
“Very well. Thank you for your hospitality Colonel. Hopefully we can come to an accord and put an end to this war before there is any more unnecessary bloodshed.” As the Cheesehead General headed for the exit he was stopped by Jackson.
“Don’t count on it General. To many Death Dealers have valid enough reasons for leveling your city. The least of which is revenge.” Colonel Jackson warned him. When the two Lieutenants moved to join their General eight Pulse Plasms Lasers deployed. “You two stay here. Move towards that door and my men will cut you down.”
“WE CAME HERE UNDER A FLAG OF TRUCE!” The General yelled at the top of his voice.
“Which we have respected. If we hadn’t you would be laying dead in the middle of No man’s land. You don’t need your two butt boys to escort you from here.” Jackson waved to two of TOC guards. “Take those two back to the frontline and hold them there. If they try to run blow them to hell.”
“Colonel you’re overstepping your authority and violating the Accords.” The General snarled as the two Lieutenants were escorted from the TOC. “You will show me and my people the proper courtesies.”
“Not even close General. Your own people violated the accords on Apollo six first. The use of chemical weapons on civilian targets, mass murder of civilians, I can go on and on, but you get the idea. You and all of your High Command officers are wanted war criminals. I don’t have to show you shit frack face. Get him out of here Sergeant. I got an assault to finish planning.” Jackson snarled and turned his back on the enemy General and his escorts.
“You won’t DARE! There is a cease fire in place!” The General shouted.
“That is where you’re wrong General. The only thing in place is a temporary lull in the fighting.” Jackson snarled over his shoulder. “A piece of advice General. When you talk to Lady Saris. Talk fast. Because the clock is ticking. Very soon those city defenses of yours are going to be hammered by every last ship in our Battlegroup from low orbit. When they get done they’re going to turn their guns on the city itself. That doesn’t give you much time.”
T-98 Goliath MCP 22nd Death Dealer Battlegroup: 20minutes later
“Ma’am, the shuttle with the enemy General just landed. Where would you like us to take him?” Asked the Sergeant of the Guard.
“Nowhere. I’ll take to the asshole on the LZ.” Saris snarled and headed for the exit to here Goliath. “That way if I lose my temper we only have to clean up the body. The blood can soak into the ground.”
As Saris left the Goliath a young Second Lieutenant turned to his CO. “Sir would Lady Saris kill someone under a flag of truce?”
“Marks, the only reason Lady Saris is talking with that slug out there is because of that flag. Of all the First Lords and Ladies, she is the only one that the others fear. I remember the day that I first met the woman on New Texas. Not only did she impressed the hell out of me. She showed me what it meant to be a Death Dealer.” The Lieutenant General in charge of the aerospace fighter contingent chuckled. “Trust me Marks. Learn all that you can while under her command. She maybe unconventional but she has one of the finest military minds in all of the Empire. Just remember that when she gets pissed. Stay out of her way.
“Sir. Is the Lady Saris really that deadly?” The Lieutenant asked.
“She took a chance on a bunch of the rowdiest crop-dusters to turn the tide in the Battle for New Texas. Back then they were know simply as the one-twenty-seventh PDF Marine Attack Squadron and I was their CO. A lowly Lieutenant Colonel.” The General chuckled. “A rag tag band of misfits that gave the River sluts hell.”
“General McQueen, Lady Saris needs on the LZ.” A Sergeant called out to him.
“It seems that I get to play the part in this little game Lieutenant. Contact the rest of the twenty-second Wing. Have them fully fueled, armed, and ready to supply air support for the fleet within the next hour.” Lieutenant General T.C. McQueen ordered as he turned and left the Goliath. “Pass the word people. Death is Dealt by our hands!”
-----tbc-----
Chapter 24
Arco dei Gavi, San Vitruvio, Gorgonzola Empire
T-98 TOC, 22nd Death Dealer Battlegroup
Lady Saris Victoria stood as the delegation from the Gorgonzola Empire exited the F-45 transport shuttle. She like every member of her staff was shocked by the sudden surrender of the Gorgonzola Empire’s last remaining military force. Even now the men manning the city of Acro dei Gavi’s defenses are marching out of the city. The reports she was receiving from her frontline commanders basically told the story of the ‘home guard’ forces. Instead of young men between 18-40 they were nothing more than old men well pass their prime and boys barely old enough to hold a rifle.
“Such a waste. All in the name of a diluted fool.” Saris sighed as she scanned the five men stepping off the shuttle. She looked over at her Sergeant in charge of the guard detail. “Sergeant York if they fart wrong. Blast them straight to hell.”
“Yes, ma’am.” York answered crisply then snarled. “Though why we aren’t blasting their sorry asses now is beyond me. Everybody knows you can trust a Cheesehead.”
“As much as it twists my guts they’re here under a flag of truce Sergeant. That means we have to abide by the Accords set forth in the Treaty of Broken Armies. Until they frack the pooch we play by the rules.” Saris snorted.
“Sorry ma’am. Permission to speak freely?” York asked only to receive a nod from Saris. “Frack the Treaty of Broken Armies. Those Accords no longer apply. They broke the Accords when they used WMDs on civilians.”
“That maybe true Sergeant, but Empire James’ orders are to play by the rules.” Saris sighed heavily then looked over at the delegation. “At least until they break them again. After that all bets are off.”
“Understood ma’am.” York chuckled evilly. “Can I say that I hope they get stupid during the peace talks ma’am?”
“You’re not he only one Sergeant. Just look around you. There isn’t one Death Dealer or Regular Army trooper here that doesn’t feel that way.” Saris chuckled as she popped her knuckles. “That includes myself as well.”
As the delegation neared her and the table that had been setup for the peace talks one of them stepped to the front. “I’m the Grand War Commander, Jules Gavreau for the Glorious Gorgonzola Empire. To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”
“First High Lady of the Death Dealers, Commander Saris Victoria.” Saris informed Jules as he took in the 5 golden stars adorning her color tabs. She could tell that the man was expecting someone else by his stance. “I’ll be the one that you’ll deal with over this matter of your surrender.”
“I’m sorry Lady Saris but I can only enter into peace talks with Emperor James Nakatoma. Those are the orders of the new ruling party. Will he be joining us any time soon?” Jules explained. Only to be greeted by a round of chuckles from the gathered Death Dealers. “Excuse me but this is no joking matter.”
“That’s where you’re wrong shithead. The only reason I’m even talking to you is because you and that pack of rejects showed up under a flag of truce.” Saris snarled as her anger filled her voice. “Let me lay things out for you. You either deal with me or once that city is evacuated. The Battle platform Katsumi will unleash its main guns and rain down hellfire on that once proud city. We’ll level every square block until nothing is left standing over one foot.”
“You won’t dare!” Jules almost screamed.
“Not only would I dare to level that city. I would take great joy in giving the order. I’ll set back with a bowl of thunder figs and a cold beer watching as each round slams down enjoying the show.” Saris sneered just before she pointed to the chair on the other side of the table. “Now sit the frack down or leave!”
“Very well then Lady Saris. As you are leaving us no choice in the matter. You quite latterly have us over the barrel. Only that barrel is a gun barrel.” Jules sighed as he took his seat a cross from her. Once the two were seated Saris handed him a copy of the Peace Treaty between the two nations.
“Read and sign jackass.” Saris snapped.
Seeing no way out to save what was left of his nation Jules began to read. He was surprise to find that the terms were rather favorable. The biggest surprise was the forming a Self Defense Border Force along the Balzac Imperium Dictatorship. The second surprise came when he read the forming of a separate governing body for Gorgonzola. The only stipulation that worried Jules was the demand for all members of their High Command to surrender to the now occupying forces. As much as he wanted to defend their position as ‘Following Orders’ Jules knew that nothing he could say would change that condition. The list of War Crimes was a long one.
The had only been two other times in human history that a nation’s leaders were charged with a list this long. The Nuremburg Trails of the Nazi Germany’s Third Reich in November of 1945 through October 1946. The second was the Hamigotea Trails on Piahiri following the Ocean World War of Genocide. Both of which lead to major changes in the way that wars were fought, and peace was handled. Jules looked up from the Peace Treaty at Saris.
“The remains of the High Command are here with me now. The rest are either dead or have fled to the Outer Rim planets.” Jules informed the formidable Lady Saris.
“Then I suggest you turn over their names and destination planets. If not the treaty will be considered invalid and Arco dei Gavi will be leveled.” Saris snorted.
“Ministers Achille Martin, Bernard Rodin, and Paul Pleimelding, along with their families have headed for Cauter and Vilara in the Pleasure System. Warlords Jarno De Saeger, Youri Dereumaux, plus their staffs and families all headed for Fordtown Ice Fields on the ice-planet Katis. Warlords Valentin Chausson and Théodore along with their families should be landing at the Bacque Sennegate Enclave on the resort water world of Chothitis Prime with the Chothitis System.” Jules wasn’t about to argue with the Death Dealer over her request. After all, those seven men, their families and their staffs had abandoned the people of their Empire to the enemy. If the Human Empire was willing to hunt them down. Then he would give them all the information he had on the traitors. “If you dispatch one of your Naval battlegroups now. You should be able to catch all three dropships as they near the Pizza Nebula.”
“Thank you for the intel General.” Saris said with a small grin as she turned to Admiral Cosby. “Daniel how soon can the seventy-seventh Carrier Group reach the Pizza Nebula under full power?”
“I give the order and ‘Storming Jack’ will be underway in thirty-nine-minutes. I can pass it off to ‘Blitzkrieg Bill’ with the fifty-third Marine Carrier Group and they can be there eight hours sooner than the seventy-seventh. Choice is yours Lady Saris. Who do you want?” Daniel asked with a vicious smile.
Saris thought about the Admiral and Marine Corps General that Daniel suggested. Of the two men both were held in high regard. They each had their own strengths and weaknesses. Not to mention their own individual approaches in solving problems. As this was a situation involving the possibility of boarding a dropship in transit she had her answer. “Send in Blitzkrieg Bill. Order his men to board and capture the fugitive war criminals along with anyone accompanying them. That includes their family members. I don’t care how old they are understood.”
Daniel just saluted and head for the T-98. He had his orders to pass onto General William ‘Blitzkrieg Bill’ Doras. In 41hrs those three dropships would be getting some very unwelcome guests. Knowing how General Doras’ Marines had a habit of driving at point home at gun. Daniel won’t be surprised to hear more than a few complaints about excessive use of force. Not that he really cared in the long run. As far as Daniel was concerned the Cheeseheads deserved what they got at the hands of Doras’ Marines and dropship crews.
“I always knew that a war with the Empire was pointless.” Jules sighed as he moved to stand up. “Now everything that I wished to protect lies in ruins.”
“Then why didn’t you remove Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana and his cronies before now?” Saris snapped. “The war could have been avoided. Along with all the needless bloodshed and destruction.”
“Like all soldiers I am loyal to my nation, its laws, and its leaders. Are you not the same?” Jules asked her honestly.
“Have you ever heard the philosophy of the ‘Just War’ General?” Saris asked him pointedly with a sad smile. Saris could tell that this was a strange concept for the man as he stood there looked at her in confusion. “Just war theory deals with the justification of how and why wars are fought. The justification can be either theoretical or historical. The theoretical aspect is concerned with ethically justifying war and the forms that warfare may or may not take. The historical aspect, or the ‘just war tradition,’ deals with the historical body of rules or agreements that have applied in various wars across the ages.”
“Ah yes. You speak of those foolish teachings and beliefs held by religious men. Men who have never placed themselves in the line of fire to protect something greater than themselves. We here in the Gorgonzola Empire do not subscribe to such foolishness. There is only one rule in war. Survive.” Jules answered Saris harshly.
“I see. Then have you ever heard of the Von Stauffenberg Oath, Gavreau?” Saris asked the defeated General with an even sadder smile. She already knew the answer by the look of confusion on the man’s face. “I’ll give it to in its simplest form. It is an oath to protect the people of a nation while flowing the laws of that nation. It is not one of blind loyalty to that nation’s leaders. This is the oath that all Death Dealers and Empyreal Military swear upon their first hour of service.”
“I don’t understand. How can you swear an oath to protect a nation before its leader? It makes no sense at all.” Jules was truly confused now.
“I didn’t say that Gavreau. It is every soldier’s duty to question the orders of those appointed over them. If they are illegal or immoral it is that soldier’s duty to disobey these unlawful or immoral orders. Something that you should have been taught during your academy years, General.” Saris snarled.
“Your nation’s military has a very strange point of view for following the orders of your leaders. There are no such thing as illegal or immoral orders. Orders are orders and are meant to be followed. End of discussion. To allow a lowly soldier to question his superiors is to invite anarchy. No army would stand for more than a day if such behavior were to be allowed.” Jules countered quickly knowing he was standing on firm ground with his argument.
“Then the killing of unarmed civilians is acceptable? Oh, fighting armed rebels in open rebellion is one thing, but the mass murder of innocent civilians is another. The crimes you and the rest of the High Command face are the same ones that the Nazis of World War two on Earth Prime now face. You can try to argue that the individual unit commanders act on their own, but it will do you no good. As the overall commanders you are legally liable for their actions in the field.” Saris stood up from the table and turned to Sergeant York. “Sergeant take the delegation into custody. They are to be treated as war criminals not POWs.”
“Yes ma’am!” York shouted as he snapped to attention and saluted. He looked over at the twenty-man guard detail. “Your heard Lady Saris. Slap these slugs in irons.”
As one the detail moved to arrest Gavreau, the four accompanying General Staff, and newly appointed Ministers. When Gavreau went to object assault rifles were pointed at their heads. Sergeant York worked straight up to Gavreau and snarled in his face. “Please make the mistake of pissing off my men, Gavreau. You and these thugs with you are no longer military commanders. You gave up that protection the day your people used chemical weapons on the people of Apollo six. I will not go into the rest of the shit your occupation forces pulled. I will tell you this much. Theft, rape, torture, and murder are just the fracking tip of the iceberg.”
“I see. You and your men hold us responsible.” Gavreau sighed as he placed his hands behind his head. He looked over at the rest of the peace delegation. “Do not resist. What happens to us now is nothing more than a victor’s right.”
“That’s where you’re wrong Gavreau. You and all those responsible for this war will face a Tribunal of Judges. Ones picked from both our nation and your own civilians. Not only will you be held accountable for your crimes against our people but your own as well. Do you really think we haven’t been investigating the reports of oppression by your own people? Every last one has been investigated and recorded. The time of your Military rule is over. We will be the ones to train the National Border Defense Force. They shall be answerable to the duly appointed Civilian Governor and the Representatives of your citizens.” Saris quickly explained then turned to York and his men. “Get these slugs out of my AO, Sergeant. If they try to run. Shoot them in the damned head. Frack the tribunal.”
That final order let Gavreau and the rest of the peace delegation know exactly where they stood. They could either take their chances with a War Crimes Tribunal or face certain death at the hands of the Death Dealer Guards. As they were led away Gavreau thought about the one thing he could do to insure he faced his death on his own terms. Hidden in the heel of his left boot was a capsule of highly concentrated poison. His wife of 35 years had given it to him the day he earned the rank of Colonel. She knew that should he continue to raise through the ranks of the Gorgonzola Military there was the very real chance of him dying by Empyreal order.
He would not give the Human Empire the pleasure of taking his life. Once he was in his cell. He would write a letter of goodbye to his wife and children. He would asked for a cup of water take the poison capsule and go to sleep never to awaken. The good thing about Phantom Venom it kills 99 times out of 100. It is also totally indictable in the blood after an hour. To someone not familiar with the poison the victim appears to have died in their sleep from natural causes. Even those who know of the poison are hard pressed to spot the signs of usage.
“They thought that by surrendering we would treat them as enemy combatants and allow them to remain in command. What a bunch of damned fools. To believe they could claim they were only following orders as if that absolved them all responsibility for the crimes of their forces.” Lady Saris sighed as she watched the peace delegation being led away.
“What was that ma’am?” Asked a young Marine Second Lieutenant that was assigned to witness the signing of the Peace Treaty and surrender of the Gorgonzola Empire.
“Nothing Lieutenant just commenting on the foolish beliefs of a fallen enemy.” Saris answered him bluntly. She looked over at him and the other witnesses. “Mark this day and remember it well ladies and gentlemen. I doubt that we shall ever see its like again in our time or any other. This is what happens when good men and women are pushed to their limits.”
With that Lady Saris Victoria turned and walked back to her T-98 Goliath. As she entered the massive Mobile Command Post the witness finally realized what she was talking about. In the seven centuries no one spacefaring nation had been able to gain the advantage over the other. With the fall of the Gorgonzola Empire that dramatically changed the galactic map.
Within months of the treaty whole garrisons of PDF forces would be redeployed along both sides of the border with the Balzac Imperium Dictatorship. All cross the former Gorgonzola Empire elections would be held at the planetary level for Planetary Governors and Parliament. Unless they were found to be guilty of war crimes or crimes against Humanity the Nobility of the Empire would be granted ceremonial positions within the Human Empire’s overall Government in the Hall of Lords. It would take time but in the coming years the people of Gorgonzola will welcome their new place as citizens within the Human Empire.
Most would become so fanatic about their new stations as full citizens of the Human Empire that thousands upon thousands would join the Empyreal Military. The main reason behind this change in attitude would be the elimination of forced enlistments of the old Gorgonzola Empire. In the case of one planet whole towns of young men and women enlisted upon graduation from high school. That was another change the Human Empire brought to their new citizens.
Unlike the rule under of the former Militaristic Government all citizens were guaranteed a basic education. It would be that education and right to freedom of speech that fuel the loyalty of those young men and women. Never before in the history of the Human Empire would enter towns of young men and women earn the Imperial Blacks of Death Dealers. Emperor James and the Empyreal Military High Command would be forced to give these Death Dealer units a separate designation because of their loyalty. Loyalty not only to each other but to the Empire itself. They would be held up to the rest of the Human Empire as an example.
But these were not Lady Saris’ concerns for the moment. Nor would they ever become her concern. This day was one that she had toiled long and hard for over her military carrier. She had reached the pinnacle of any offer’s carrier. Today Lady Saris’ only concern was the bottle of 50-year-old Scotch that was a present to her from Grand Lady Dai Etsu upon her appointment to First High Lady of Death Dealers. As she opened the bottle Saris thought about the letter she was about to write. "Do I really deserve to retire at this time?”
“No offense ma’am. You’ve earned your retirement.” General James Dockens said her from the doorway to her quarters. “I thought I’d find you in here Lady Saris.”
“I believe that of all my Field Marshals and Generals you’re the only one that would dare to walk in on me, James.” Saris held up the battle looking at the label. “Care to join me in a toast to my retirement?”
“It would be my honor, Lady Saris.” With those words General James Dockens closed the door and joined Saris at her desk. As he sat down James pulled a folded piece of paper from inside his jacket. “Though we’ll be drinking to more than just one retirement Saris. Like you I’m done. There’s a little beach bar on Aquarian three with my name on it. I’ve eaten enough cold field rations and slept on enough armored tank decks to last me for the rest of my lifetime.”
“How long have you worn the uniform James?” Saris with a grin.
“Just short of forty years now. How long has it been for you Saris?” James asked her as she poured them their drinks.
“Let’s just say that I’ve spent the majority of my adult life in uniform. Just like you old friend.” Saris looked over at the galactic map on her wall. “The universe as we know it has changed once more. How do you think the new citizens of our Empire will face the challenges before them?”
“No idea. We can only hope that they move forward with their new lives.” James raised his glass. “To peace. Lets hope this time it lasts.”
Goulcrest, Apollo 6
Demon Pistol Stash house
Spider couldn’t believe that Emperor James and Empress Terresa were actually standing in the middle of his gang’s stash house. Then again his people had someone that the Royal Couple would walk through the very fires of hell to get their hands on. “Nutjob, Crazy, go get the shithead.”
“You sure boss man? I mean the Resistance Council gave us strict orders to keep the jack hole on ice.” The gangbanger called Nutjob asked with real worry in his voice.
“Frack those assholes. I run this gang and this part of Whitechapel not them. Now go get that shithead. Before I take your damned head off.” Spider snarled then grinned evilly. “Of would you rather talk to Ripper about this?”
Nutjob and the other gang member ‘Crazy’ ran from the room as if the Hound of Hell were snapping at their heels. Then again the threat of being sent to face off against Robert Wolff was bad enough in the old days. Now that he was a Death Dealer none of them wanted to face the Devil himself in a fight. Spider turned to his Royal guests with a bow from the waist. “Please pardon my men Your Majesties.”
“Forget about Mister Lloyd. We understand that we’re uninvited guests within your territory.” James answered as he looked around the stash house. “Though I do have to wonder at the location. Shouldn’t your people have turned Vanderbilt over to the current provisional government for safe keeping?”
“Not if you want to keep the cock bite under lock and key. The man has more than a few of those monkey nuts in his pocket. Then there’s the militia shitbirds that he’s bribed over the years. Give them a chance to rescue their piggy bank and they will. Which is exactly what would happen. If we kept Vanderbilt in the Courthouse cell blocks or anywhere else in the Government Square area.” Spider looked around his gang’s stash house. “The only people who know about this place are Demon Pistols. None of them would rate this place out to the cops. Let alone the provisional jackboots that other resistance organizations setup.”
The disgust in Spider’s voice spoke more than his words for James. “I take it that you trust the provisional government as far as I can throw my APS?”
“Not even close to that, your Majesty. Most of those jackbooted cocksuckers are union reps.” Spider snarled then popped his knuckles. “And they all have their own agenda. None of which are concerned with the people of Goulcrest.”
“I see that we need to take a hard look at this provisional government. I didn’t realize that it was stacked with union bosses.” Terresa sighed.
“It won’t do you any good, your Majesty. The common people of Goulcrest will still get screwed. Especially the gangs. You got to remember that this city is a natural zone. We’ve never had representation at the planetary government levels. Hell, we’ve never even had representation at the local levels. If it wasn’t for the local mayor this whole city would be run by a bunch of City Aldermen. A third the cops are on the take, another third can’t be trusted to pour the piss out of a boot with the directions written on the heel, and what’s left do their best to keep the bullshit from getting out of hand. As for the rest of the first responders. They do the best they can with what they got. If it wasn’t for the gangs stepping in to keep the real shitbags in line. The crime would run ramped in this city.” Spider grunted as he looked at the Royal Couple with nothing but respect and pride.
“That will be changed. You will have my word on this Mister Lloyd.” James grunted then gave the younger man a considerate look. “How do you feel about politics?”
“Never gave them a second thought sire. Why do you ask?” Spider wondered.
“James what are you up to?” Terresa asked sweetly.
“I do believe that our former gang leader would make one hell of a Parliament Representative. One that will bring the voice of the common man to that august body of law makers. Don’t you think?” James smirked.
“Not to mention a set of brass knuckles for settling arguments.” Terresa giggled as Spider blinked his eyes with his mouth gaping like a fish out of water. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing from the Emperor and Empress. They were talking about making him some kind of politician.
“Hold on here your Majesties. Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but you would be better off one with of the more respectable men of Goulcrest. Someone like Captain Wallace or Mister Laynee. I’m nothing more than a street rat.” Spider tried to dissuade the two monarchs from making a major mistake.
“Sorry partner. But once the wife has made up her mind there’s no changing it. You’re the new Parliamentary Governor for Apollo six.” James chuckled as the stunned Spider fell into the nearest chair. James pulled a small stack of cards from his jacket and hand them to Spider. “Mister Lloyd you and your people did more for the resistance of Apollo six than any of the other citizens and should be rewarded. I have heard that the Regular Army and Navy have been trying to recruit your people. If there are any problems with their enlistment just have the recruiter contact this number. You all deserve a second chance at a new life.”
“Thank you sire. Splinter hand these out to the guys. Everyone gets one.” Spider told the nearest gang member. He stood back up and looked around the stash house at his gathered gang members. “Listen up people. All of you have been approached by the military recruiters. Take some advice. Enlist and get off this rock. Do it now. Those jackboots in the provisional government are going to be gunning for us all. I’ve already talked with the leaders of the other gangs. After next week none of the core members will be in Goulcrest or on Apollo six. To put it bluntly. All the gangs are getting out while we can.”
“What about you boss? You staying or going?” Asked one of the younger members.
“I’m gone, Lobo. I got nothing to hold me here any longer.” Spider answered then turned to James and Terresa. “Thanks for the offer Majesties. But I ship out for Seth, in the New Egypt system in five days. You should talk to Elisabeth White if you want someone to act as a Parliamentary Governor. She has a real grasp of politics and knows how to act like a real High Families Lady when she needs to.”
“Thank you for the advice Mister Lloyd.” About that time Nutjob and Crazy came back into the room dragging Grayson Vanderbilt between them. This was not the overly arrogant High Families scion of the Vanderbilt family that was sent here years ago. It was a broken and beaten down shell of a man that now faced the Royal Couple. James and Terresa could tell that Grayson’s time in captivity at the hands of the Demon Pistols had not conformed to the POW conventions.
All the finger bones of his left hand were clearly broken. At least six of his teeth had been pulled none too gently from his mouth. His left eye was swollen shut. His nose had been broken at least twice. His right eardrum showed clear signs of rupturing as shown by the blood running down his neck. Then there was the numerous cigarette and electrical burns the length of his torse. Then there was the odd angle at which his right leg hung. James and Terresa could tell that the leg had clearly been dislocated at the hip and knee joints. The last sign of the torture that Vanderbilt had suffered at the hands of these hardened gang members was the trembling of Grayson hands. The man was clearly going through withdraw.
“What the hell did you do to him?!” Spider yelled.
“The bastard thought he could bribe his way out of facing the consequences of what he had done boss. The cocksucker thought we we’re a bunch of mercenary thugs. Stupid son-of-bitch offered us five-grand a-piece to smuggle him out of the city. We maybe a bunch of street rats but we’s got principles. You know.” Nutjob snarled.
“Fine. Which one of you jacked him up on Warlock?” Spider asked bluntly.
“Didn’t use the good stuff Spider. We used a mix of Blue Ammo and Vampire Dust. Got some really interesting dirt on the Vanderbilt and Hightower families.” Crazy chuckled. “Never expected him to get hooked like he did though boss. It just kind of happened. I mean Blue Ammo and Vampire Dust aren’t anywhere near as addictive as Warlock. Yet this poor fracker has to have his fix twice a day.”
“Is he halfway coherent young man?” Terresa asked Crazy.
“For right now, he is ma’am. Once he gets his fix. He’ll be off to la-la-land in no time.” Crazy snorted then kicked Grayson in the ass. “If you want your damned fix shithead you’ll answer the Empress’ questions.”
“Yes sir.” Grayson whimpered.
“Were you the one who leaked the information about this planet’s defenses to the Cheeseheads?” Terresa demanded of Grayson.
“Yes.” Was the only answer Grayson could give. He knew that it was worthless to try lying in front of these hard-core gangbangers. They didn’t care about civil rights. They only cared about resalts. “I was also the one that gave them the override codes to the orbital defense satellites.”
“What about the raid that got Cathy Pike killed?” Terresa snarled.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen. Prince James and his lance weren’t supposed to be anywhere near that planet. Everything my spies told me they had left the day before. They should have been on a dropship outbound for the nearest jump point.” Grayson slubbered as he tried to justify his actions that caused the death of Cathy Pike. The punch to the back of his head almost blinded him. He didn’t need to look to see who had hit him. He already knew that it was the gangster known as Nutjob.
“Hold on Nutjob. The Emperor and Empress have a few more questions for the shithead. You can kill his ass later.” Spider told the number two hitter for the gang.
“Whatever boss. I say we dump his ass off the end of Johnson pier with a concrete block tied to his worthless ass. He’s been blabbering on about some deal he has with that lady representative and the rest of the ‘legitimate resistance’.” Crazy spat out as he kicked Grayson in the ass. “Like we would believe that shit.”
“Gentlemen if I might make a suggestion?” James asked with a sly smile. Spider just nodded to his Emperor. “Allow my Imperial Investigators to handle this matter.”
James grinned as the four men who had accompanied them entered the house. Each one wore the uniform of a Death Dealer Imperial investigator. They grabbed Grayson by the arms and dragged him from the house face down.
“Imperial Investigators? Here? On Apollo six? You have to be kidding me?” Spider gasped out in front of his gang. “Just wish you had sent one of those Emperor’s Hand people here before this all started.”
“Oh, they were here Mister Lloyd. I had three full teams on this planet just before the war started. They were in the process of gathering the needed evidence to take down the corrupt government when the Cheeseheads attacked.” Terresa sighed heavily as she thought about the cost of that war among their number. “During the war the majority of them lost their lives.”
“I don’t know who they were your Majesty.” Spider told her sadly. “But the gangs of Goulcrest will remember them. Van Gogh take care of it.”
As if to underscore this point one of the youngest gang members there began to paint something on the wall of the stash house. Terresa and James could tell that this boy was in charge of tagging the gang’s territory. The Royal Couple could already tell that the young teenager was a very talented street artist. It didn’t take him long to have the outline of a crown hovering over the middle finger of a right hand with fingers spread wide. He turned to the Royals.
“How many members of the Emperor’s Hand were on Apollo six?” He asked.
“There was a total of twelve. Eleven of whom lost their lives in the war to free Apollo six.” James answered the boy honestly. Van Gogh began to place the outlines of eleven bullets around the hand and crown. James understood immediately what the bullets stood for and ordered. “Place one more at the very center. Only make the last one solid black with the others being gold, young man.”
“Who’s the solid black one for?” The boy asked as he began to paint the twelfth bullet in the palm of the hand.
“Combat Arms Master Warrant Officer, James O’Brian. You know him as Father Mike of the Sky Reach Orphanage.” James answered bluntly.
“OH SHIT! FATHER MIKE WAS A DEATH DEALER?!” One of the gathered gangsters shouted.
“One of our greatest. Even though he was retired he gave his life in the defense of this planet.” Terresa told them quietly. “Like all Death Dealers. He may have taken off his uniform, but he never stopped being a Death Dealer.”
“What does that meant, ma’am?” The boy asked of Terresa for the others.
“Do you really want to know the answer to that young man?” Terresa asked with a kind smile. Van Gogh wasn’t the only one to nod his head in answer to that question. “Then tomorrow join the children of Sky Reach Orphanage at Phoenix Funeral home. There you shall understand what it means to wear the Imperial Blacks of a Death Dealer. When you do I challenge you all to try and win them.”
With that James and Terresa left the gang’s stash house. Spider turned to his fallowers. “Full colors tomorrow. We got a funeral to attend.”
Peace Memorial cemetery next day
I looked up at the heavily overcast sky. The day couldn’t be any more cliche. The only thing missing was the rain. I watched as the limbers and caissons with the ‘riderless horse’ entered the cemetery. The graveside detail stood waiting for the casket that held the mortal remains of Father Mike. I took in the seven-man rifle team, and six-man pallbearer detail. Those thirteen men and women would carry Father Mike to his final resting place in the Field of Honor. Father Mike was to be buried in a part of Peace Memorial cemetery known as Normandy Fields.
This one section of the cemetery held all of those who had earned the highest military honors. It did not matter if they were PDF or regular Empyreal Military. If they were awarded the Ruby Lion medal for bravery or higher this was where they were buried. Father Mike had been posthumously awarded the Parliamentary Medal of Honor for his actins during the Gorgonzola Occupation of Apollo six. Not surprising really. Of all the medals award the PMH is the most often awarded to the dead.
There were only three other medals that were held in as much regard. One of which now adorned my uniform. The Silver Wings Assault badge. The other two awards were the Grand Comet and the Imperial Blazing Heart. I wasn’t too sure how I felt about winning the Silver Wings. Too often they marked those who had earned a reputation for pulling off the impossible. I wasn’t the only one to be awarded the Silver Wings. Every surviving member of Fallen Angels and Blacks Saints had received them.
I let my eyes fall on the rows of chairs that held the mourners. The front two rows held the children from Sky Reach Orphanage. All were dressed in new clothes that were a gift from the community of Whitechapel. Penelope stood out from the other children. The black kimono embroidered with a ruby red, ice-blue, and brilliant yellow phoenix on the left breast made her stand out as if she was born to a High Family household. Every inch of her screamed strength, beauty, and grace, at a time that most people would be at their most venerable. Only the Dowager Empress, War Princess, Grand Lady Dai Etsu, and Empress Terresa presented a more regal image. I couldn’t be more proud of my little sister.
As the six-man detail removed the coffin from the limbers and caissons I knew the funeral would soon start. The full military ceremony would take close to hour. I watched as the Death Dealer Honor Guard presented arms. I had to fight to control my emotions as the casket team secures the casket. Non-commissioned officer-in-charge, and officer-in-charge were the next to salute. I was surprised to realize that there was not military chaplain present.
Instead, it was the Reverend Mother Katsumi dressed in the uniform of an Empyreal Army Colonel who leads the funeral detail to the gravesite, followed by casket team. I scanned the funeral detail only to receive a second surprise. The OIC for the detail is Emperor James. Only he is wearing the uniform of a full Death Dealer Brigadier General. Not believing what I was seeing I shifted my eyes over to Empress Terresa’s uniform. It took me a few seconds to spot the twin eagles of a full Death Dealer Colonel on her shoulder tabs. The casket team set the casket down at the gravesite and secures the flag.
The NCOIC and OIC ensure that the flag is stretched out, level and centered over the casket. Normally it would be at this time that the family is seated but with the stress of the last few Empress Terresa felt it would be best if they were seated before the funeral began. I watched as the NCOIC and OIC backed away. I wondered chaplain what words Reverend Mother Katsumi would use as she performs the service.
“The Goddess as call home one of her most valiant of warriors. We gather here today to honor that man’s passing. Long ago in Earth’s past a great General stood before one of the planet’s mightiest governmental bodies. He gave a speech as he retired in which he reminded them of but the refrain of one of the most popular barrack ballads of that day which proclaimed most proudly that ‘old soldiers never die; they just fade away.’ And like the old soldier of that ballad, he closed his military career and just faded away. It was as an old soldier who continued to do his duty that the Goddess gave him the light to see that duty in his final hours. Death Dealer may set aside their uniforms, but they never stop being Death Dealers in their retirement. Master Warrant Officer, James O’Brian was just one such Death Dealer. As Father Mike he stood watch over the Sky Reach Orphanage. In his final hours he became one of our greatest heroes.” Reverend Mother Katsumi turned to the children of Sky Reach, Penny, and the gather mourners. “Please stand.”
“Attention! Presents arms!” Emperor James ordered to initiate the rifle volley. For some reason I jumped at the first of three seven-man rifle volleys. With the rifle volleys completed; a bugler played the time-honored Taps. With the honors completed the children from the orphanage were asked to be seated. I watched as the Honor Guard casket team moved into position and start to folding the Empyreal Flag I came close to losing the battle over my emotions.
Once the flag folding was completed, the flag was passed to the Emperor James. With a solemn dignity the casket team left the gravesite. I stood there at the back of the gathered mourners as Emperor James knelt before Penny to present her the folded flag. I could barely hear his words spoken only to Penny. “It is both my honor and privilege as a representative of the Human Empire Death Dealers, to present to you this flag. Let it be a symbol of the appreciation that this nation feels for the distinguished service rendered to our country, and to our flag by your loved one.”
Normally at this point a for veterans of the Planetary Defense Force, an ‘Arlington Lady’ would present cards of condolence to the next of kin, on behalf of the PDF service chief and the Lady herself. Only Father Mike wasn’t a veteran of the PDF, he was a Death Dealer. I watched as this sacred duty was handled by Dowager Empress Maiha Nakatoma herself. This day was just filled with surprises. The Reverend Mother Katsumi was the next to extend her condolences. As cemetery representative announced that the service was concluded I walked away from the gathering. I needed time to myself to get my emotions under control.
As Penny and the children of Sky Reach were lead away from the graveside I wondered over to an area of Normandy Fields often visited only by tourists. The outdoor memorial in this area was well cared for and constructed from the hardest stone on Apollo six, Baby Blue Micalipsite. The crescent shaped memorial was made up of fifty columns interconnected by the same stone across the top. In the center of the memorial stood lonely bronze statue of an eagle in flight. From the top an eternal flame burned between the tips of its wings.
“Does the flames of victory call to you Robert?” I turned to find Reverend Mother Katsumi standing just a feet behind me. “I saw you standing off to the side. Why?”
“I said my goodbyes to Stalker during the war. I don’t belong in their world anymore. Those children need to learn to live in peace.” I looked down at my clenched fist. “I’m little more than a weapon.”
“You know your great Uncle faced similar feelings. Even more so after her Secondary Configuration.” Katsumi sighed as she stepped closer. “You are the first of the new generation Death Dealers. As such you shall always question yourself.”
“I don’t question myself Reverend Mother. I’ve always had a violent streak. They’ve always called me the Whitechapel Ripper. It doesn’t matter if it was a friend or not. Every last gangbanger called me Ripper.” I snorted. “The only thing that separated me from them was a promise to Father Mike.”
“Then allow me to give you some advice young Death Dealer. Keep that promise in your heart as you cross the galaxy in search of your truth. Much the way you revered relative once did hunted for his own truth.” I turned to face the Grand Lady Dai Etsu who had walked up to us with a grace of movement that hide the fact she had two artificial legs. I don’t know what it was about the look I gave her, but she chuckled. Seeing her standing there caused me to scan the area for danger.
“Ah yes, there it is. The exact same look my brother-in-law James J. Owens held in his own eyes. He too was a rurouni, much like yourself.” Dai Etsu chuckled.
“A what?” I asked her.
“Rurouni were wondering swordsman of ancient Japan. They were landless and lordless samurai. Most were men of great honor much like James.” Dai Etsu chuckled lightly. “Though my dear brother was more than just a little rough around the edges. Much in the way that you are my nephew.”
“How did he change?” I asked her honestly.
“It took the love of a good woman to change the man called Death. It was that same love that brought the peace he hunted for so desperately.” Dai Etsu didn’t try to hide her mirth as she thought about those times in my great uncles life. “Make no mistake Robert. My brother-in-law was a rogue without equal. Much like yourself.”
“I’m a street rat Lady Dai Etsu. It’s the reason I told Lord Owens to piss off. I don’t belong among the High Families.” I looked back towards where Penny and the children of the orphanage would be leaving the cemetery. “I want to thank you for what you did for Penelope and the other children.”
“House Nakatoma always takes care of our own nephew. Your brothers and sisters shall be well looked after at their new schools have no fear on that matter.” Dai Etsu told me with a smile. “Though for your sister Penelope we will be a more direct hand in her final years of education. I see a time when she shall need skills not taught in most schools. Diplomacy, culture, languages, she will all the skills of the Diplomat as well as an administrator.”
“In years to come Robert. Always remember that you have a home here on Apollo six. If nothing else you have that.” Katsumi told me with a sadness that pulled at my heart. I had a feeling that she had lost her home world long ago to a planet killer. “And your little sister will be here watching over it.”
“Just as Father Mike will be standing his eternal vigil over the orphanage from here. In a few months a statue shall be erected here on the side of this mountain. When I read the report of Master Warrant Office O’Brian’s last stand I knew that the PMH would not be enough. I had to find a way to honor both him and all retired soldiers that stand against the evil of men in one last great act of defiance.” Maiha sighed as she stepped into view. “We shall also be honoring him on Hades in both Fiddler’s Green and in the Valley of Heroes with a twin of that statue. One of my finest sculptures has already proposed a befitting tribute. The statue will be of a battle-tired Death Dealer standing between kids and a coming, unseen threat. Made from galaxy-black bronze and golden titanium.”
“Thank you Empress. I just don’t want him to be forgotten. They can forget about me, but not him. I really do like the idea for the statue.” I told her honestly. “I’m kind of used to being forgotten really.”
“The days of the Whitechapel Ripper being forgotten are over I’m afraid Robert. Even now your reputation is spreading like wildfire among both our friends and enemies. According to the reports coming from ours spies in the other nations. Among our enemies your name has already become legion, and it is death. Even our allies fear and respect the Death Dealer who could rise from the shadows who could claim to be the successor for the ‘Man called Death’. One who is not only worthy of the name, one who is even tougher and harder to kill.” Empress Maiha told me bluntly as she pulled a stack of folded papers from her kimono sleeve’s pocket. As she handed them to me Maiha smiled. “Your team has one last duty Chief Warrant Office Wolff. After that your team is on thirty days leave.”
I snapped to attention and saluted her before reading the orders she had just handed me. They were for an escort mission to the Death Gates System and Hades Prime. The Fallen Angels were escorting Lady Penelope O’Brian, along with Lord Daniel and their retainers to Hades where they would attend their new schools. Yup I was head for the Death Dealer Home World. At least for now. If I had stuck around I might had overheard a very interesting conversation.
“He has come a long way from that brash young man from a few months ago. This war has changed him a great deal.” Dai Etsu commented to no one.
“He’s still the same young and brash man, mother. Only now he knows that he’s mortal. He learned more than a few harsh lessons that cannot be taught in training.” Maiha watched the young man who had took it upon himself to shoulder the mantle James J. Owens once held. “Death truly walks the battlefield once more in the form of a man. I fear that my nephew’s hope for peace shall come to not.”
“Why do you say that Maiha?” Alice asked her as she stepped up beside her wife.
“We have done the one thing that no other nation has been able to do until now. We completely conquered a neighboring nation. The other four remaining nations will be forced to take note of our growth. Between our annexation of High Winds and defeat of Gorgonzola the Human Empire now controls one half of the known galaxy. Only the Democracy of Horvath is not a direct threat. The Velmaro Consortium, Balzac Imperium, and USSR will come for us sooner or later.” Maiha told the gathered granddams of the Empire. “I fear that it shall be sooner rather than later.”
Maiha pointed in the direction that Robert Wolff disappeared. “It shall be men and women like Robert Wolff that will stand in the way of their anger.”
“Death Dealers plus our Empyreal Military were always meant to be a defensive military force. Their mission has never been one to conquer our enemies through blind imperialism.” Katsumi sighed as she was the first to grasp the situation. “We will need to increase our military’s size by more than triple before our enemies decide to come for us.”
“We will have time Katsumi.” Dai Etsu told her with a certainty the others did not feel. “So will that young man. When the time comes. He will be the one to strike more than just the fear of death into the very hearts of our enemies but Hell itself. Not even the Hivemind of the Velmaro will be able to contemplate the havoc he shall raise among their numbers.”
“Those are bold words of prophecy for just one Death Dealer old Friend.” Katsumi grunted as she looked to where Robert Wolff had disappeared. “Then again they may be true. Among all our Death Dealers he is the true Wolf of the Endless Waltz.”
-----tbc-----
Sorry for the delay in the posting of this chapter. I have been dealing with more than normal Real Life situations that needed my full attention. Hopefully I will be back to my normal posting schedule shortly. Starting with the final chapter in this story.
Chapter 25 Final
Hades, Death Gates System: 25 days later
I could only stare in disbelief at the main entrance gates to the Joan Eunice Smith School for Young Ladies from the back seat of the hover taxi. It took me a few seconds to realize that there were actually two 100ton Rhino Assault class APS suits standing guard on each side. Both were painted in the unit colors of the Hellhounds. I hoped like hell those two monsters were only here for decoration and were unmanned. I mean come on here people what kind of school needed a security detailed outfitted with an Assault class APS unit.
“I just need to see a copy of your orders Chief Wolff. Once I have that you can escort Lady Penelope up to the main building.” The gate guard told me as he leaned in close to the open window. When I didn’t answer right away he looked to where I was staring. “Relax Chief. First Lieutenant Tomas and Second Lieutenant Styles are only out here because the Alpha Company’s Assault lance drew gate detail.”
“Rob why is he calling me Lady Penelope?” Penny asked from her seat next to me.
“Your guess is as good as any Penny. For now, let’s just get you enrolled in school.” I told her as I handed over the requested copy. Once the guard had it in hand he waved the taxi on through the gate.
As we drove towards the front of the school. I had a feeling that Penny was about to start a new life as a Nobile Lady. While Danny would be starting one of a Lord. There had been clues dropped during the trip from Apollo 6 to Hades. The biggest of which was the way the dropship crew treated the two of them. I wouldn’t have put it pass the Dowager Empress to have promoted the two of them to the status of Lord and Lady to replace the Vanderbilt family. After all none of them remained.
When we pulled to a stop at the entrance to the school’s main building I knew that my little sister was in good hands. I stepped out of the taxi before Penny and held out my hand to help exit the backseat. She was still having a hard time wearing the kimonos supplied to her by the Royal Family. Despite the deferent colors and fabric print patterns, they all had one thing in common. They were all embroidered with a ruby red, ice-blue, and brilliant yellow phoenix on the left breast.
Of all the children that ever stayed at Sky Reach Penelope’s new wardrobe fit her the best. After me she had the most hidden history of us all. I do know that she was born to parents from the Rising Sun System. One of the seven systems colonized by the ancient island nation of Japan on Earth Prime. All seven systems still practiced the ancient costumes of that once proud nation and its people. We were greeted by a young girl in her mid-teens. I could tell by the uniform and her manners that she was a student here at this school.
“Welcome to Joan Eunice Smith School for Young Ladies, Lady Penelope. I’ll be your guide for this morning.” The young lady looked over at me and her eyes took in the silver bar with two black squares on my shoulders. “Chief Warrant Office Wolff if you would please wait here for the Security Chief to arrive I’ll escort your sister to the Head Mistress’s office.”
As much as I wanted to argue with this young lady I knew that doing so wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do just then. If those two APS at the gate were any indication. Then this place was under the protection of the Royal Bodyguard unit, the Hellhounds. A full regiment of the meanest, badest, nastiest, soldiers in all of the Empire. Not a group of soldiers that you take lightly. At least I knew that Penny would be protected here while I faced death on the battlefield.
“Go on Penny. I got a feeling that me and the local CO will be having a little one on one talk.” I saw the look of fear in her eyes and gave her a hug. “Don’t worry kiddo. I’ll be with you as soon as possible.”
“Please don’t leave me. I don’t like what’s going on Robby.” Penny whispered.
“Go on Pen-pen. You’ll be safe here. Those APS suits belong to the Hellhounds. That means the Royal Bodyguards are here. Trust me no one in their right mind is going to screw with this place.” I assured her.
“Not if they want to live to see the next morning. The First Battalion of the Hellhounds are stationed here for just one reason. The Dowager Empress and War Princess are part of the faculty.” I turned to the voice and the man that it belonged to. I was not expecting to see a Lieutenant Colonel in charged of a security detail. No matter who that detail belonged to. “Colonel John C. Stannis at your service. If you’ll come with me I’ll get your clearance taken care of.”
“I figured that was the case, sir. Though I must admit that I am surprised to see an APS battalion pulling security duty at a school for girls.” I told him honestly.
“Miss Kathy why don’t you go ahead and escort Lady Penelope to the Head Mistress while I take care of the Chief.” I nudged Penny and she walked off with her school escort. “Now that we’re alone Chief let’s get down to brass tacks here. We’re more than just an APS battalion Chief. The First Battalion is a reenforced Combined Arms Battalion. We have an explained mixed APS company, a Heavy tank company, an Armored Infantry Company, and two Light Infantry Companies. We also have two platoons with K-nine escorts. The First Battalion is here for more than just the school’s security. We’re here for the Dowager couple.”
“Okay wait a damned minute here Colonel. Just what the hell does that mean?” I was beyond confused to start with but for the Dowager couple to be a pair of teachers was twisting my mind in ways that drove Celest crazy.
“What that means is your little sister will be one of many students that have the pleasure of being instructed by the Dowager Couple. Also, your sister’s classmates will be daughters among a great many of the High Families. The same can be said for your little brother’s classmates over at Jacob Salomon School for Boys. Between the two schools we have children from ALL of the High Families here on Hades. Hence all of the unorthodox security. The Dowager Empress and War Princess take their responsibilities to their student rather seriously.” Stannis grunted with a smile.
“If that is serious. I would hate to see extreme.” I joked as I thumbed toward the gate with its two Rhinos standing guard.
“We they go for extreme they breakout their personal assault class APSs. Then call in their family little sisters and mother.” Stannis shivered then looked toward the far side of the campus. “When those ladies get rolling nothing stands in their way. If you ever want to know just how nasty they can get go to the troop barracks’ dayroom. We still keep the top gun scores posted. The Wave Dancers still hold the top five individual spots, plus team spot.”
“Damn. How long have they held those positions?” I asked him bluntly.
“For as long as anyone can remember. I think that is around thirty plus years now.” Stannis chuckled as my mouth fell open. “Trust me Chief Wolff. The Wave Dancers are a cut above the rest of us ass in the grass GRUNTs.”
“Damn. Well, it looks like my job is done. Can you tell me where I can find an ice-cold beer and a decent beach, sir? I’ve got thirty-days leave to burn.” I told him.
“Not going to stick around until your sister settles in?” He asked with his head cocked to one side giving me a strange look.
I was honest with him. “I don’t belong in their world anymore sir. I belong on the battlefield. Not sitting down at fancy dinner table with the High Families and their worthless sycophants. Give me a hot K-rate, cold canteen of water, and a dry pack of smokes then I’m happy. After that its nothing more than gravy, sir.”
“They said you were an uncommon Death Dealer. I must admit that I first doubted the reports about you Chief Warrant Wolff.” Stannis chuckled then looked down at the Silver Wings Assault badge adorning my uniform. “Then again most soldiers who win those never do fit the standard model.”
“I heard the Dowager Empress called us a bunch of misfits, outlaws, gangsters, and the rowdiest bunch of Death Dealers she had ever met.” I chuckled as I told him of a rumor that had spread among the dropship’s crew that brought us here. “Tell you the truth sir. She probably wasn’t far off the mark.”
“You and the Fallen Angels are close Chief. That honor still belongs to Empress Maiha’s grandfather’s team, the Ghost Riders.” Stannis chuckled humorlessly. “To answer your question about the cold beer and beach. Grab the nine-twenty-two train to Haven Port. From there take the seaside road north for about thirty miles. There you’ll find a shine to the Saint Jimmy of Islands. Don’t worry the Priests of Margarita Ville serve a great burger and cold beer at their beachside bar and grill. Not to mention some of the best margaritas for twelve parsecs.”
“Thank you sir. Can you do me a favor? Please look after my little brothers and sisters while there here. They may not go full tilt beat down on someone, but they will put them in the Nurse’s office if pushed. Remember they’re all orphans who survive the streets of Goulcrest during a full-blown war. They didn’t do that by being innocent in the ways of the streets.” I smirked.
“Got it. Eyes on the mini-Rippers.” Stannis chuckled. “Just how much trouble am I looking at if they do go nuts on one of the local pains in my ass?”
“Let’s just say that Penelope can handle an SEM-14A3 like a professional. Danny is a nasty little bastard with a blade and has no problem with getting up close. I won’t even go into what the others will do if threatened.” I chuckled as the color drained from the Colonel’s face. “But I will tell you one this. The gangbangers of Goulcrest knew not to frack with them. Especially Lady Penelope.”
“Oh, bloody hell.” Colonel Stannis whispered. “Time to use my student contacts to spread the word about the newest students. Enjoy your Leave Chief Warrant Wolff.”
“I hope to sir.” With that I secured my duffle bag and joined my team at the main gate. I took one last look back at the administration building of JES and the full campus area. I thought about the two schools that my little brothers and sisters would attend and the life that they represented. “Enjoy your new lives kids. Time for the Ripper to leave you all behind.”
Privet Office of Maiha Nakatoma, JESS
Maiha stood at the window to her privet office looking out at the main gate. She could see the five remaining Death Dealers of the Fallen Angels gathered there. The sight of those five young men and women took her back to a time with her first team. When she was known as James J. Owens, Chief Warrant Officer, and the man they called Death. She knew that Colonel Stannis had told Robert about Bama Breeze beach.
“Once again history repeats itself. The most feared of Death Dealers heads for an out of the way beach to ease his soul.” Her voice was filled with mirth and fondness. “I wonder if Robert will find his saving grace as well.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure that he will, daughter.” Dai Etsu told her from over by the door to the office. “Several of our students are taking vacation there now.”
“Please tell me that you didn’t set this up mother?” Maiha groaned. At the giggle from Dai Etsu Maiha just sighed. “Who did you send?”
“Let us just say that all six students are some of my more rememberable.” Dai Etsu waited for Maiha to turn around and face her. “Now you have a class to teach, and I have a meeting of the school’s directors to attend.”
“I hope you’re right mother. Because I have a feeling that Robert Wolff and his Fallen Angels will repeat history once more in the High Winds Court.” Maiha told her as she looked down at the report on her desk. “It seems that our old student and protégée is in need of a Death Dealer to correct the attitudes of her War Prince Divisions again. The only thing missing is the daughter of a High Family on Robert’s arm.” Maiha sighed heavy. “As much as I love Alice, there are times when I still miss my beloved Matsue. She was such a large part of my life. She gave me a small bit of peace during the times I needed it the most.”
“Matsue was more than just my sister as well James. She was a true light in the universe. I’ll be honest with you. Until I met my own James, Goddess rest his soul, I never knew what she saw in that brash young man that you were back then.” Dai Etsu looked out the window toward the gate. “Much like our dear Robert it seems.”
“I see a shit load of myself in that young man at that age.” Maiha chuckled.
“Yes you were rather rude, crude, and socially unacceptable back then. How did she ever smooth off those rough edges?” Dai Etsu asked with a cheeky smile.
“Let’s just say that I was always a work in progress Dai Etsu. The one thing she was never able to smooth over was my rather infamous short fuse or violent temper.” We both chuckled over this rather glaring admission on my part.
“If I’m not mistaken that infamous temper of yours served you well as a Death Dealer of some notoriety already. You had already earned your nickname of Death when you two first met.” Dai Etsu pointed out with a sad smile. “I still remember those painfilled and haunted eyes of yours that day on the beach. The one where we first met you and the rest of your team.”
“We were a rowdy bunch of assholes, weren’t we.” I told her with a smile. “I have to be honest, Dai Etsu. That Leave was the first one we had, had following one of the bloodiest fights in Death Dealer history. When I saw the two of you playing in the surf I knew that I was in love with Matsue.”
“We were young and innocent in the ways of the world then. Our father had allowed us to take a small break from the Family Temple’s strict education. To have the freedom to just play was new to us. Then you and your team appear out of nowhere. Where did you rowdy lot come from?” She asked with a smith.
“Believe it or not. We had been watching the two of you and your friends playing in the surf for more than an hour from the tiki-bar. Though I only had eyes for Matsue. I also knew that the six of you were all way out of our class.” I told her with a self-deprecating smile and chuckle. “After all we were a bunch of drunken rowdy GRUNTs and you were all, well lets be honest, High Families Ladies.”
“That we were and yet you managed to capture the heart of the only Lady who would give up her title to be the wife of a simple soldier. She gave her heart and soul to you James. I often found her tales of your adventures to be both enlightening and an escape from my duties to the Temple.” Dai Etsu chuckled then turned sad. “Though there were times when she would tell me of your nightmares. That you always sought the peace of mind that eludes even the most valiant of warriors.”
“A peace I never truly found.” I sighed heavily as I picked up a report from members of the Emperor’s Hand off the top of my desk. I couldn’t believe what I had read. “Even with the first of my children in my arms. Both the ones birthed by Matsue and then the ones I gave birth to myself. I fear that Robert will face those same demons in the years to come. The fact that our enemies already call him the Bloody Ripper does not bode well for his future.”
“Then let us hope that history truly does repeat itself one last time.” Dai Etsu told her with a sad smile. “For his sake at least.”
“Your mouth to the Goddess’s ears.” Maiha whispered and left her office. As the two Grandames of the Nakatoma family went about their business the Fallen Angels were waving down the taxi that they had called for from the gate. The six young soldiers would never know of the part that these two powerful women played in their future path. Nor would they know of the hope those two women held in their hearts for the newest Death Dealer to strike fear and respect in his enemies.
Cresea, Capital City of Ranvov, Velmaro Consortium
Office of trends, International Intelligence
Commandant of the Converted, Unit 9 of Section 5, Division 7 let the data flow through his cybernetic processer. The reports out of the now fallen nation of Gorgonzola were disturbing. For more than 100 years two Death Dealers had terrorized the warriors of Velmaro. First was the man called Death James J. Owens. After he had passed away it was his granddaughter, the one called Death’s Own Daughter by their warriors. Now there was a new warrior that was just as ferreous. Once he had correlated the intel 9 of 7 stood up and reported to the main control center.
He knew that the Hive Queen would not enjoy his report. As he entered the control center he spotted the heads for the other eleven sections. Like the other 9 members of his collective mind, he stepped into an alcove. He felt the probe connect to the base of his skull. After up linking to the primary server, he downloaded his information to the Hivemind. As the last of his data uploaded there was a spike of pain that ripped through his total nervous system. Like the other members of Section 5, Division 7 he fell over dead.
Everyone in the Consortium knew the price for failure was death. It didn’t matter what position they held within the Collective. From the lowliest drone working the food factories to the General of Paladins. Failure equals death.
Queen’s throne room.
The Hive Queen for the Velmaro Consortium felt the probe disconnect from the crown of her head. “Damned fools. How could they have not seen the danger that Gorgonzola presented. They were supposed to be the best of our Intelligence minds.”
“My Queen, none of our spies within either Sector five or six showed signs of in pending conflict. Section five was not the only Section caught unawares.” The Prime Drone fell of dead in the center of the throne room.
“The next drone that speaks out again shall suffer the same fate. General of Paladins why haven’t our drones in the shipyards cracked the secret behind the Shinigami battle platforms?” the Hive Queen snarled. “They are the true secret to the Human Empire’s grip on the universe. Them and their Death Dealers.”
Of all the Collective members only the individual Hive Queens were allowed true independent thought. Like all Hives in nature tasks were divided among groups. The smallest of which were 5 to the largest being 25 members. It all depended on the task that was assigned to the group. The average though was 10. Those ten reported to a single drone above them that was part of another 10. Those 10 reported to a single drone above them and so on. Until they reached the local Hive Queen.
Each planet had 24 Hive Queens and 1 Planet Queen. The 24 Hive Queens reported to the Planet Queen. The Planet Queens reported to the 48 Sector Queens. The 48 Sector Queens reported to 24 Regency Queens. The 24 Regency Queens reported to the 12 High Queens. Those 12 High Queens reported to the 1 Supreme High Queen. Who now stormed around the throne room. The click of her high heeled boots sharp on the metallic floor. If not for the flesh of her face one would be hard pressed to tell that the woman before them was a cyborg. Every inch of her polished black chrome covered body glinted in the sunlight. The chrome covered her from the crown of her head to the tips of her 5-inch-high heeled boots.
The Supreme High Queen couldn’t remember her original name. If she ever had a name to being with. Like all Queens she had been genetically engineered from birth for one purpose. To rule the Hive Mind. From a young age she had been trained to hear the voices of the thousands of minds and respond to their needs while not becoming lost within those voices. Her greatest fear though lay not within her control over the Consortium but from outside her nation’s borders. Unlike the other Queens the Supreme High Queen knew the fear her people represented to the rest of the universe.
As the only spacefaring nation that practiced 90 to 100 percent total cyberization of its citizens and Hive Mind control they were a true threat. Only the Human Empire could truly stop the Consortium should they whish to wage war of conquest. Their vastly superior Navy and regular Army were three times the match for her drone forces. That didn’t even take into account their Death Dealers. Those terrors of the battlefield. The greatest of which at one time was Commander James J. Owens, First High Lord of the Death Dealers. Only his granddaughter struck as much fear in her combat drones. Now there is this new Death Dealer. This Whitechapel Ripper.
The Supreme Hive Queen was faced with several questions. First of which was, was he just lucky? Was he as deadly as the reports dictated? Lastly was he one of a kind or the first of a new breed of Death Dealers? It was this last question that worried her the most. Ever since the arrival of the Second-Generation Death Dealers appeared he Consortium had to double then triple the number of warrior drones. Even then the War Collective warned that wouldn’t be enough to stand up to the Human Empire’s vastly superior military. For three simple reasons. Technology, skill, and the most discerning of them all Free Will.
It was that last reason that disturbed her the most. How could a society function in such an archaic way? Where every last individual was allowed to think for themselves. It should be anarchy not the orderly society that existed within the Empire. Nor should their military work as well as it does. Of all the remaining nations there are only two that could truly threaten the Human Empire now.
Sadly, hers was not one of them. One of which was a threat to her own nation, the Union of Stalinist Slovakian Republic. The largest population in Human Space with the second largest military in the history of Humanity. The second and only other nation that posed a threat to the Human Empire was the Balzac Imperium Dictatorship. A Nationalist nation that rivaled NAZI Germany of the 1930s and 1940s. The two nations each had an advantage over the Human Empire. For the USSR it was sheer numbers. While the BID had the technological advantage.
“How can we turn the two nations’ attention towards the Human Empire only?” She asked herself but found no answers. She was also faced with a problem. If she connected to the other Queens and shared her fears there would be chaos. If she didn’t connect and share the other Queens would have her removed. For the first time her young life the Supreme Hive Queen found herself in an unattainable position. All because of one man. “No not just a man. A Death Dealer that reveals Death.”
The Capital of Leningrad, Saint Peter’s Heaven, Union of Stalinist Slovakian Republic.
The Grand Supreme Soviet, Izhutina Tasha Artemievna, looked around the table at the leaderships for Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. Of the thirteen members she was the one that held the final say in everything. Izhutina would often rival in the rush of power that would fill her during such meetings. Today that rush did not come. In many ways the current Government was an exact duplicate of her great Ancestor Joseph Stalin. There was only one truly great deference between his Central Committee and hers. Half of the positions were occupied by women. This was a true representation of the body political.
“Tell me General Secretary of Intelligence Denisovna. How in the name of the Empire’s gods did you and your people miss the glaring mistakes of the Gorgonzola Empire? Better yet how could you and your people not realize that those Imperialist scum were bluffing the rest of the universe with a paper tiger military?” Izhutina demanded just before she slammed her fist onto the table.
“Please understand Supreme Soviet that none of our spies were able to infiltrate the Gorgonzola military ranks because of their class system. The only influence they were able to exert was on the working-class masses. Even then it was limited to those who did not work within their military complex.” Denisovna answered honestly knowing full well that she was placing her life in Izhutina’s hands. The Committee for State Security, were known to make enemies of the State, disappear.
“I see. They were victims of their own pride. Such is the ways of the Imperialists and Capitalists comrades. We must never deviate from the guiding truths of our great ancestors’ ideals. The Body Politic is served by the State while we serve the State. None of us are above the State. Not even myself.” Izhutina knew that she was handing out nothing but the standard party bullshit line. She knew it and they knew it. There wasn’t one of them that didn’t have a privet pleasure cabin on a vacation planet or personal staff at their home residents within the Union. “Thanks to the Gorgonzola Empire’s fall we are now faced with a very difficult choice to make. Where to deploy the main body of our forces to defend the Union?”
The first to speak up was the Secretary for War, Chupov Lavr Denisovich. As much as Izhutina hated the man she couldn’t replace him or his military mind easily. She was forced to keep him until she could find a true replacement. “Supreme Soviet Artemievna we are faced with a situation that has never before existed for our great nation. We are truly surrounded by enemies that are true threats on all sides. Thankfully the outer rim nation of Snærbiǫð is unknown to the other nations. While we do have a Treaty of Nonaggression with Snærbiǫð they can hurt us. We must rethink the way we are to deploy our forces.”
“What do you suggest Denisovich?” Demanded the third most powerful person on the Committee Secretary of Energy, Gorokhov Vasil Ivanovich. Only the Secretary of Finance was more powerful than Ivanovich. “As it stands now our military is already stretching the boundaries of our National Budget. Must I point out that despite the propaganda we have spread among the other nations. We lack the resources for a prolonged war. It matters not if it one of offense or defense. Any war we fight that lasts more than four months and our nation will crumbled.”
“My finest Military analysts have forecasted that we can operate openly for twelve months with the current war matterals on hand, Ivanovich. Stick to what you know and leave running the military to the professionals.” Denisovich snarled.
“Comrades you will comport yourselves as members of this Committee. Not schoolyard bullies fighting over territory. Do I make myself clear?” Izhutina snarled. “I asked for a solution to our current problem. Not a rehashing of known facts.”
“Excuse me, Comrades but I might have a solution to our dilemma.” Secretary for Agriculture, Komolova Alina Fyodorovna suggested to the gathered members. She waited for Izhutina to recognize her before continuing. “I suggest a plan where we spilt our forces into small defensive units with a main mobile army held in reserve. One that can be quickly moved about our nation. While the defensive units tie down the enemy in holding actions. Forcing them to bleed both men and resources.”
“Secretary Fyodorovna, where did you come up with this plan of action?” Asked the Secretary of Finance, Malinina Pavlina Maximovna from her place next to Izhutina.
“During my mandatory service time I was a Supply Officer assigned to the Tenth Red Guards under Field Marshal Stepanovich. He would often assign a theoretical problem to us lowly Lieutenants. We were to solve these problems and present them before him and the rest of the command staff. Where they would then evaluate and then grade our solutions.” Fyodorovna explained with no hint of pride in her voice. “During my second year we were assigned a verry similar problem and this was the only answer that we were able to come up with that didn’t bankrupt the nation or destroy the infrastructure to the point that our people starve. Before you ask there were there other plans offered up but each one was left on the floor torn to shreds by the Field Marshal and his Command Staff.”
“Did this plan have a name Comrade Fyodorovna?” Izhutina asked politely.
“We simply called it Plan three-five-seven. As all of our assignments were only used to teach us about the reality of war. We saw no reason to assign them actual operational names. Not when numbers would do for our purposes.” Fyodorovna answered with a shrug of her shoulders.
Izhutina turned to Maximovna, Ivanovich, and Denisovich. “Comrades I suggest we put Comrade Fyodorovna’s plan into action. Make it happen. We have time for now. This meeting is now adjourned.”
As she stood up to leave Denisovich asked one simple question. “What shall we call this new defensive plan Supreme Soviet Artemievna?”
“The Whitechapel Ripper defense.” Izhutina reached down and activated the room’s viewscreen. There on the wall was a picture of a blood covered Death Dealer taken during the final battle for the city of Goulcrest. Izhutina didn’t mix her words as she pointed to the picture of the blood covered warrior from hell. “Make no mistake on this matter Comrades because if the Human Empire turns its eyes upon us. That man right there will be at the head of their vanguard covered in the blood of our valiant soldiers with murder in his eyes.”
Fürstenwagen, Saxony 4, Balzac Imperium Dictatorship
Führer and Reichskanzler Heinrich Ullrich marched into his Wolf’s Lair with worry filled steps. Until now he had an unwilling alley in keeping the Human Empire under control. With the fall of the Gorgonzola Empire that was no longer the case. His nation was now surrounded by the two greatest threats to his nations political foundation of Nationalism. The Socialist Communists of the USSR on one side and the Democratic Monarchy of the Human Empire on the other. That didn’t even speak to the threat presented by the outer rim nation of Phoshixa.
Of all the nations that surrounded his own Phoshixa was the one that worried him the most. That was until his personal valete woke him this morning. “Field Marshal von Strout please tell me that I was not rudely awakened for a joke this morning.”
“I’m sorry meine Fuhrer I cannot. The Gorgonzola Empire truly has fallen to the war dogs of the Human Empire. We are still in the process of piecing together our spies reports. The few that were able to get out.” Eric von Strout knew that this morning was going to be one that he would later come to dread in the last years of his life. Starting at this point in time.
“Take it from the top Field Marshal. I know that this is one time where the Human Empire’s tactics, technology, and unpredictability were the cause for the Frogs downfall. My grandfather once told me something about the Human Empire’s Military. If you want to defeat the Human Empire’s Military do not train to counter their battlefield doctrine because they don’t bother with it in the first place. Instead train to fight in the most insane manner that one can imagine.” Ullrich chuckled as he thought about his grandfather. “First you can explain why our spies were unable to warn us about the total collapse of the Frogs?”
“The Frogs make the mistake of concentrating all of their key military Communication Networks on key planets, my Fuhrer. The Human Empire used Corvette class pirate ships to delivery seven-forty Core Crackers to destroy those planets. Once those planets were no longer in play not even our spies could find a civilian work around. The first reports of the Human Empire’s march on the Frogs arrived today. At the same time as the reports on the capture of their home world. From the reports that I have read so far I can only guess as to the rest.” Von Strout sighed.
“Then guess Field Marshal. Of all my military leaders and advisors, I’ll take your word above theirs.” Ullrich ordered him.
“Blitzkrieg meine Fuhrer. That is the only answer. The Human Empire has perfected the tactics of Lightning War in ways that we or our ancestors ever could. When you add in their unorthodox manner of solving problems on the battlefield. The Empire’s military becomes an unstoppable force of nature. Even our technological advantage will be of no use against them.” Von Strout picked up a photo off the table in front of him. He looked down at the blood and gore covered Death Dealer depicted there. “Even then I’m not too sure we have the advantage anymore. This Death Dealer maybe a one of a kind or the first of a new breed. Let us hope it is the first.”
“Why do you say that?” Ullrich said as he took the photo from von Strout’s hand. “My God! What is he? A demon?”
“The local resistance fighters called him the Whitechapel Ripper. Our people have taken to calling him the Ghost, the Knife, and a few other colorful names. Though Death Dealers have taken to using the name, Ripper.” Von Strout picked up a file that Ullrich could tell was already growing. Across the front of it was stamped in bold three-inch-high letters ‘The Ripper’. “I have taken the liberty of starting a full fill on the man. It contains as much information on him as we currently have.”
“I expect that it will grow over the years to come von Strout. Assign a full team to this man.” Ullrich sighed and dropped the file on the table. “I expect that the Human Empire will take their time to consolidate their newest gains and fortify their new border with us. When they come for us. That man and men like him will be at the spear point for their vanguard. You are right in believing that he is the first of a new breed of Death Dealer I fear. Not even our valiant Gewittertruppen Divisions will be able to stand in their way.”
“Meine Fuhrer how long do you believe we have until they come for us?” Von Strout asked with real worry in his voice for the first time.
“Let us pray that it is not in our lifetimes.” With that Ullrich left the Wolf’s Lair to find some place to think. He did not know how his final words to his Field Marshal of Armies effected the man. As the door closed von Stout turned to face the rest of the General Staff and High Command.
“Meine Damen und Herren heavy hangs the head of our Fuhrer. He must guide our nation through truly unsettling times. We must prepare our Military to stand as a shield against our enemies.” Von Strout turned and walked over to the window overlooking the cityscape. “Let us pray that the Death Dealers do not come for us too soon.”
“Why are you saying that von Strout? Surely they would take time to consolidate their newest holdings and replenish their troops. It’s the next logical step.” One of the other Generals pointed out for the others.
“Logic plays only a small part in war, Hanns. We have reached a tipping point in history. For the first time in almost two-thousand years one nation has not only the resources but the population to conquer the rest of the Human Known Universe. We actually face an enemy that can rebuild the Human Empire of two-thousand years ago and we are not that nation.” Von Strout told them all bluntly. “If we are lucky Emperor James Nakatoma’s bloodlust has been satisfied for now. If not we shall face storms of blood and waves of rage. Everyone go home and spend time with your families. We’ll attack this tomorrow morning with fresh eyes and clear minds.”
With those words Field Marshal von Strout left the Wolf’s Lair. He knew that his wife and children were waiting for him at home. He decided to take lunch for the first time in months with his family. For some reason he knew that his time with his family would be very short over the next few months.
Forbidden City, Zarth FE9, Democracy of Horvath
Matriarch of Conviction Wan Qiu sat back on the Running Waters Throne with a smile. Her spies within the USSR and BID had reported the fall of those godless fools. “Finally, the Gorgonzola Empire is no more. Sadly, they couldn’t do more damage to the Human Empire. Not even one Shinigami battle platform destroyed.”
“But Great One, only a Shinigami can destroy a Shinigami. All of Human Space knows this one immutable fact. For centuries those powerful ships have been the bane of every Navy to ply the space ways. Not even our Mongol battle platforms can compare.” One of the palace functionaries said trying to placate her.
“Go stick your head in a waterfall Xing Hong. It’s not like I don’t understand that. Our Japanese and Anglo-American counterparts were always better at designing weapons of war. Those battle platforms are just the latest in a long line of our weapons that they have improved upon. I could give you a list that goes back to our days on Earth of the weapons that the Westerners have first stollen from us. Then went onto improve over short periods of time.” Wan Qui snarked with a casual wave of her left hand. “No. Our problem now is what will the False Emperor James do now that he has conquered the Frogs.”
“His only choice is to consolidate the conquered nation and replenish his military forces. To move against either the USSR or BID now would invited disaster.” Her Minister of Defense answered her honestly. “Now is the time we should strikeout against our longtime enemies, Majesty. I suggest a two-prong attack. We could retake both the Short-Tailed Beaver Woodland and the Black Wastes.”
“Don’t be a fool General Long Jin. As powerful as our military is they are no match for the warriors of the Velmaro or the Gewittertruppen of the BID. They would crush our forces in a matter of days the second we cross their borders. With our forces destroyed they would swarm across our nation and the last of the free Chinese people would fade into history.” Wan Qui snarled from her throne. “It took my family more than one-hundred years to rebuild our dynasty. Another seven thousand to secure that dynasty. I will not see it fall in my lifetime.”
She looked over at her Minister of Foreign Intelligence. “Minister Tan Bo what do you make of these reports of a new type of Death Dealer?”
“By all rights Majesty the reports from our spies should not be ignored. The Human Empire does indeed have a new type of Death Dealer. One that we fear can engage a hyperactive mode that we have never seen before with one exception. When a Death Dealer entered the Secondary Configuration mode.” Ten Bo told her honestly.
“Are you saying that the Empire’s Death Dealers have a member of their number that can willing engage the Battlefield Demon?” Wan Qui asked in horror.
“If the reports from our spies are true. Then yes. The Human Empire’s Death Dealers now have the ability to engage the Battlefield Demon at will. This is a logical progression Great One.” Ten Bo answered with a small bow. He turned to look at the Minister of Science and Technology. “Wouldn’t you agree Minister Fang Zheng?”
“Yes it would the logical progression. In the last thirty-years the Death Dealers have made fantastic progress in their ranks. The first of these upgrades were the Second-Generation Death Dealers. This was followed by their new Aerospace pilots. A true upgrade from the original assault class Death Dealer would not be that far of a stretch. With each new type of Death Dealer their threat grows by leaps and bonds. Not even I or my most brilliant scientists can predict their next evolution.” Fang Zheng answered sadly as he bowed to Wan Qui.
“Then our only chance at surviving as a nation to fortify our border systems and pray that the Human Empire takes their time with the other nations.” Wan Qui sighed. She looked up at her gather court as a feeling of foreboding filled her very soul. “Let us pray that when they finally come for us. They show mercy.”
On the other side of universe.
The massive ship moved slowly through the vast expanse of space. Like all pre-FLT flight capable ships this one was cryogenic sleep ship. It was one of the first ever colonization ships launched from Earth Prime following the last Great War World. Deep in its holds were 10,000 hopeful pioneers. All with dreams of settling a planet that was similar to Earth.
The planet Vinci, named after a famous scientist, is an earth-like planet in a vast solar system with sixteen other planets. Vinci is about 11.7 times bigger than Earth and its gravity is about 1.27 times that of Earth. A single day lasts 36.46 hours and a year lasts 233 days. The planet is made up of 12 continents, which make up 61% of the planet's landmass. There are 2 moons in orbit around the planet and Vinci itself orbits a white sun in an elliptic orbit.
The plant-like organisms on this planet are made up of millions of flowers. Their combined colors and scents make for an amazing spectacle, but they leave little space for other species, which is why there are only very few bush and shrub species. Fungi, grasses, and trees are non-existent outside of the plains regions.
The aquatic life too is full of wonders. Highly specialized plants, which closely resemble the corals of Earth, cover nearly everything in the not too deep waters. Their colors are bright and numerous, something they share with the Earth corals. But their shapes and sizes are far beyond anything ever seen on Earth or anywhere else humans have discovered. There is only one problem.
The planet Vinci was already inhabited by a technologically advanced race. The Elves of High Winds had claimed the planet long before Humanity ever left Earth for the stars. To the Elves this was their Home World, and they weren’t about to give it up to a bunch of humans out of time.
It would be into this unprecedented situation that Robert Wolff and the Fallen Angels were about to find themselves thrust. He would need to learn how to be more than a warrior. He would be forced to become the one thing he hated the most, a diplomate. A diplomate for more than just the human race, but the eleven race as well. Just like his great uncle, Chief Warrant Officer Robert Wolff would receive aid from an unexpected source at his side. But that is a tale for another time.