Chapter Three
Isaac was transfixed by the footage on the screen that hung at the front of the crowded room. Lights had been dimmed to allow for better viewing of the detailed footage. Isaac could feel the tensions all around him and more than a few of the officers had to dry their eyes.
Space battles were normally not very exciting despite what popular entertainment would have people believe. Mostly invisible beams and hyper fast metal projectiles lashed out through the thousands of kilometers of open space. In general they were rather boring depending on how the intelligence types edited them and what they focused on. Watching the footage of what the press was calling “The Battle of Return” was not interesting from an entertainment standpoint, but no one in this room wanted to be entertained. At least no one admitted if they did.
Primarily the footage had shown a fifteen minute sequence where the dreadnaughts Mongol, Qin, and Rome had moved into the Ch'yrrade defenses to destroy the anti light craft defenses. Interceptors and strike craft had been unable to deliver a decisive blow and a more direct assault was needed. Destroyers and the cruiser screen fell away as the three capital vessels moved forward and began the engagement. Drones hung buck in support, providing video and updates to the screen.Isaac had wished he had watched it live. That had been available to everyone in the fleet.
All seemed to be going well with the battle until a Ch'yrrade defense platform struck Mongol with a powerful rail gun. The big ship staggered in space, pouring fire back even as the other Ch'yrrade defenses focused on her. For seven minutes the big ship fought back and then suddenly, without warning, she broke apart into three sections. The explosions were brief and no fire survived being exposed to the void, but the fleet flagship and Admiral Miranda Sol were both lost in that silent vision of hell. It now hung on the monitor of the briefing room, frozen in time.
“We delayed our briefings so we could show you this.” A naval commander, Celia Crowden, was briefing them on the space battle as the lights came up in the room. To Isaac's eyes the commander still looked shaken. He could empathize with her; he had worn that look once himself. “Both the Qin and Rome suffered damage, but escaped with minimal personnel losses. The automated and crewed strike craft then went in and broke the back of the Ch'yrrade defenses. Seven ships were lost in the battle, including Admiral Sol's Mongol. It was lost with all hands.”
“Thank you, Commander.” Colonel Byron Novakov stepped up. He was the commanding officer of Armored Regiment 14, the brigade sized task force that included Isaac's 11th MART.
“Now you know the price we paid. The fleet thinks it can hold off anything the Ch'yrrade can counterattack with, but not forever. Thirty days is all the can promise at the moment. To give any of you new folks an idea, it took use three hundred days to subdue Gliese 4543 Charlie.” No one commented as the colonel looked around at the assembled officers. Isaac noticed a late comer walked through the door and leaned against the door jam. The mysterious officer nodded to Novakov who acknowledged him and moved on.
“The primary objective of our MART battalions will be fire support for the secondary landings. That means deep penetration runs. Individual platoons will provide support to sky drops and knock out those damn embedded anti air bunkers. Command would rather not tear the planet apart with space support but the Rome battle group is poised to do just that. If the secondary landings are successful, there will be a third series of landings.” Novakov looked at his two battalion commanders and they nodded. “That information will be provided if and when such an occurrence comes to pass. Before we get into specific tasks, are there any questions?”
Isaac had barely heard anything the colonel had said. The loss of Mongol and Admiral Sol had shaken him. Miranda Sol had been in this war as long as anyone and had been at the front of every offensive for the last ten years. That she was now dead made Isaac feel lonely as if a fellow crusader had fallen.
“Just one, sir.” Isaac looked up and saw that B Troop's commander had raised her hand. Her features reminded Isaac of Molly and he felt the nauseating sickness he experienced every time those five minutes of his life flashed before his eyes. It all began with Molly dying and ended with his mother and sister burning.
“What about resupply? It was an issue on our last campaign.”
Novakov nodded to Commander Crowden. The dark skinned officer stepped back up where she could be heard. “We have prepackaged supply caches already loaded. As you expend ammunition we can keep track and arrange for drops.”
“Even in combat?” Isaac found his mouth opening before he could really form all the words. In a battle during the last campaign the transports had refused to drop ammo under fire even though the MART vehicles were in a safe position.
Commander Crowden narrowed her eyes at Isaac for a breath before answering. “Yes Lieutenant Thomas, our pilots will drop in hot zones.”
Isaac nodded and sat back in his chair, suddenly aware he had been tensed forward. He massaged his hands to try and bring his stress levels down. Too much stress might cause some alarm among the medical staff or his superiors. Isaac had passed his physicals easily for his first two campaigns. In fact one doctor had suggested he might be too calm and collected before going into combat. That had caused a brief conversation with Captain Larson that had consisted of Larson's typical bluster and sarcasm.
Even as a boy Isaac had been considered cold. After his father had returned from his third tour of duty, Isaac and his father had gone to counseling together. Although it had only been three years for his father, on earth six years had passed and the seven year old had become a thirteen year old. Isaac's grades were good but he constantly failed social tests and simply treated bullies and potential partners with equal disdain. Friendships were few and not long lasting.
So they tested his sexuality and gender markers, checked out any sociopathic tendencies and finally ran him through a battery of medical tests. A boy should not be afraid to cry or talk about his emotions, they said. Isaac normally rolled his eyes at this. He was not ashamed to cry he just did not feel like crying. He did not feel like talking about his feelings because his feelings were his business. He would have just preferred everyone just get out of his way.
“And so this is the primary target for the 11th.”
Isaac looked up and sat up straight. An intelligence officer had stepped up. The man must be new to the unit because Isaac had not seen him before. A short and stout Norterran, the officer had a scar over his left eye and Isaac could tell it was a replacement. The eye seemed to fixed on Isaac and he felt his nerves tighten. Had he missed something?
The man continued. “The Ch'yrrade have their plasma cells parked behind this ridge. The air defenses are excellent, with several e-nets and anti-missile defenses. Since we would like the planet intact, orbital strikes have been ruled out. That leaves artillery strikes. At least two troops will need to deploy here at Hill 74.” The hard looking intelligence man looked over to Colonel Novakov.
The Colonel nodded his understanding. “Alpha and Charlie troops are tasked. Bravo will be in reserve.”
“Once the cells are destroyed, several secondary targets are available. The cells are the priority however, as it will seriously degrade their ability power their vehicles, fixed defenses, and ELINT units.”
Isaac studied the map on his own display as the intelligence officer moved on to other targets for other units. The plasma cells were apparently stored inside hardened bunkers behind a low ridge line. The line looked vaguely familiar to him and he zoomed in on the location. After a few moments he recognized the landmark.
“See something?” It was the troop XO. She had leaned over and was studying Isaac's display.
Isaac looked up at the intelligence officer to make sure the man had not noticed the whispered tones.”Just thought it looked familiar.” Isaac zoomed back out to the normal view.
“Oh yeah, that was apparently the extraction site. Did it have that many trees back then?”
Isaac shook his head. “No. We had just started terraforming. Everything was still orange and blue back then.”
The XO nodded and brought her own data pad over to look at. “Well its all green now.” Her slow and gentle Norterran twang exaggerated her statements. “Wonder why the nagas didn’t burn all that down?”
Isaac merely shrugged. A lot of things about the Ch'yrrade didn't make sense.
The briefing itself took another half an hour as the intelligence officer went over their targets in more detail. Isaac's 11th battalion would be going in without any infantry support. The Marines and assault infantry would be land several kilometers away. Isaac scanned the faces over the other platoon officers and the XO; they seemed a little nervous and fidgeted in their seats more than he had ever seen. One and all were experienced soldiers who had been in serious fights before. For fifteen years of Isaac's life, longer in terms of Earth years, mankind had been on the offensive. Eleven worlds had fallen to the Ch'yrrade advance and now only two of those eleven colony worlds remained to be freed.
Tau Ceti and Kappa Ceti had been the first colonies struck losing close to fifty percent of their human colonists in the process. That process had been repeated on the other colonies of course but in each case the Ch'yrrade had driven humans from their worlds. Some suggested this was signs of basic “humanity” within the Ch'yrrade since they did not try and slaughter every human. Others, Isaac included, saw this as just herding humans back to their last planet and then the genocide would commence. Either way the plan had failed and humans had pushed the enemy from every world, save two. Tau Ceti would soon join them.
Isaac looked over to where Larson sat among the other officers. He still seemed calm and thoughtful, neither of which was normal for him. The Captain also typically asked a lot of questions, typically exasperating the briefing officers in the process.
Suddenly it occurred to Isaac that his own nervousness might be linked to theirs. He understood his own anticipation, but what about Tau Ceti was making everyone else so nervous?
Pondering it made him angry. He was the only native of Tau Ceti who was among the attack force. None of them had been here seventeen years ago. None of them had watched their mothers and sisters burn under the vicious weapons of Ch'yrrade soldiers. What did any of them have to be nervous or anxious? This was his world and his battle and the rest of these people needed to get out of his way.
A beep from his data pad brought Isaac out of his red state. Captain Larson had been monitoring his blood pressure and sent a message.
Is everything alright? Isaac took a second to parse the message. No curse words. No strange metaphors about Turkish brothels. The young officer almost smiled at the banality of his commander's message.
Yes sir. Just eager to get going. Isaac pressed send and looked over at Larson. The man smiled, nodded and mouthed 'me too'. Larson turned back to the briefing leaving Isaac feeling bewildered. For so long he had planned out every thought and response to how this would go down. He would play it cool, act normally or as normally as possible, and meet every challenge just as if Tau Ceti had not been his home for five years. Only when he was on planet would people get a taste of what he had in store for the Ch'yrrade.
Everyone else had to play their part too and treat this as if it were just another mission. Had Admiral Sol's death affected everyone that much? Isaac thought that could be it. Nothing else made any sense.
Three hours later they were suiting up. Isaac caught Nina trying to give him a smile but was only able to give her a halfhearted smirk in reply. His mind was focused on getting down to the planet and his stomach was doing somersaults over the anticipation. Into the prep room a naval officer strode, his boots making soft thwoosh sounds as he moved among the Marties. He came up to Isaac and handed him a thin laminated message. The man saluted and Isaac returned the salute before reading it.
Report to General Chu's office. Immediately. TAGC.
Isaac swallowed hard, his stomach now churning for a whole new reason. Did they know? Did they suspect? Were they going to pull him out of the line because of his past?
“What's that?” It was Nina who spoke but the Troop XO and the commander of the first platoon were there as well.
“I have to report to the general.” Isaac pocketed the message.
“Wallenberg?” Sal Wallenberg commanded XII Corp and was known for odd per-invasion behavior meant to improve morale.
“No.” Isaac shook his head and began walking, hooking up his pressure gear as he walked. “Chu.”
The silence behind him dropped a company of butterflies into the churning seas of his stomach. On the way to the general's office he stopped in the head to puke.