Galactic Empire Wars: Insurrection (The Galactic Empire Wars Book 5) (16 page)

“Shield is
down!” yelled Lieutenant Vardes.

Commander
Strand unbuckled her safety harness and stood, looking at her crew. “It’s been
an honor,” she said just as a bright light flashed through the Command Center.

-

On one of the
viewscreens in the Command Center of the
Defender
,
Commander
Greer watched as the
Firebolt
was blown apart. Debris went flying in all
directions, and a bright glow marked where the antimatter missile that had
destroyed the ship had detonated. He had known Commander Strand for years. Her
family lived in Luna City and would take her loss very hard as she was their
only child.

“
Firebolt
is down,” reported Lieutenant Walton in a very subdued voice.

Commander
Greer nodded, accepting the fact that they were now alone in the Lymeth Three
System. He winced as the
Defender
continued to shudder from energy beam
and pulse fusion hits to the energy screen. The energy screen of the
Defender
had been designed to stand up to heavy punishment, but no one had expected
anything like this.

“Sir, we need
to slow down before we hit the atmosphere,” warned Lieutenant Dragger. “We’ll
burn up at this speed.”

“Wait until we
hit the atmosphere and then begin braking,” ordered Greer. “The energy shield
will protect us long enough.”

The ship
lurched violently and more red lights appeared on the damage control console.

“Not if the
Zaltule manage to breach it first,” commented Captain Damon as she held on to
her console with both hands.

“We have ten
Zaltule battlecruisers in pursuit,” reported Ensign Walton. “They’re closing
fast.”

The ship
lurched again and more alarms sounded.

“We have a
hull breach on level twelve, compartment seventeen,” Captain Damon reported as
she checked her console. “Damage control teams are on the way.”

The ship
suddenly began shuddering violently.

“We’ve hit the
outer atmosphere,” Lieutenant Dragger reported as she desperately began trying
to brake the ship’s forward momentum. “If we make it, we’re going to hit hard.”

“Aim for the
spaceport,” Commander Greer ordered. “If there are Kleese there, the Zaltule
won’t dare hit it with an antimatter missile.”

“Zaltule
battlecruisers are breaking off,” called out Ensign Walton. “They’re not
following us into the atmosphere. They’ve also stopped firing on us.”

“Why?” asked
Captain Damon, looking confused.

“Either they
don’t believe we can land or they want to capture survivors,” Greer replied
evenly. His eyes were glued to the viewscreens showing the rapidly growing
surface of the planet. “Lieutenant Dragger, we really need to slow down or
we’re going to make a very large hole in the blastcrete of that spaceport.”

“Working on
it,” Dragger answered as she tried to slow the ship. She was using every trick
she had ever learned in flying to brake their descent.

-

Minor Overlord
Matol was growing angrier every minute. The Humans had managed to destroy one
of his battlecruisers and damage a number of others. He had underestimated the
enemy and had paid for it.

“I want
captives,” he ordered in a cold and harsh voice. He had already ordered the
pursuing ships to break off and take up stationary orbits directly above where
the Human ship was going to land, if it survived the landing. “Prepare our
warriors to go down to the surface and capture as many of the Humans as
possible. Use stun guns to ensure they’re not killed.”

-

Through the
upper atmosphere, the
Defender
tore like a burning meteor as it came
ever nearer to the surface. The ship had never been designed to land on a
planet. Down toward the large spaceport it came at breakneck speed. It was
instantly obvious to everyone watching from the surface that the ship wasn’t
going to slow down enough to make a gentle landing. With a loud roar and a
thunderous explosion, the troop assault ship slammed into the blastcrete of the
spaceport. The energy shield failed instantly and the superstructure of the
vessel buckled. Several large explosions blew out huge sections of the hull.
Black smoke poured out from the gaping holes from burning fires inside. The
ship had landed, but it would never take off again.

Colonel
Winfrey woke up with a groan to find himself pinned by a fallen metal beam.
Fortunately, he was in his Type Four battlesuit and, grasping the beam with
both hands, managed to lift it off. Standing to his feet, he looked around
seeing that the emergency lighting was on and the corridor he was in was full
of smoke. Checking his HUD, he saw that his battlesuit had suffered no damage.

“This is
Colonel Winfrey,” he said over the general comm channel. “Is anybody hearing
me?” It was obvious they had crash-landed. Everywhere he looked, there was damage.

He heard a
jumble of voices begin speaking.

“This is
Captain Stern. I have a large group of survivors at the main hatch. We’re
trying to get it open. The ship has crashed and most of the power is out. I
haven’t been able to contact anyone in the Command Center.”

“I’m on my
way,” Dylan responded as he turned and began jogging down the corridor to see
if he could find a safe path through the wreckage.

As he moved
through the corridors, he came across crew personnel both alive and dead. The
ones still alive he sent to help the injured and to see if the med bay was
still functional. The med bay was in the center of the ship and heavily armored
to ensure its survival in nearly any situation. He just wasn’t sure a crash
landing was one of those.

It took nearly
twenty minutes to reach the hatch. Several times he had to pause and clear away
wreckage or go completely around sections where fires were burning. He finally
reached the main hatch to find a large number of Marines waiting in both Type
Three and Type Four battlesuits.

Making his way
to the front, he found Captain Jamie Stern watching Captain Nicole Foster
attach demolition charges to the hatch. Upon seeing Dylan’s arrival Nicole
turned to face him.

“The hatch
won’t budge, sir,” she informed him. “I’m getting ready to blow it.” Nicole was
an expert with demolition charges.

“We need to
get out of the ship,” Dylan said, knowing they were in a dire situation.
“Captain Stern, once we get out have your Marines secure the perimeter around
the ship. Once we have our perimeter set up, we’ll need to start searching the
Defender
for survivors.”

“Yes, sir,”
Jaime replied. “Sergeant Dawson, as soon as we’re out I want all of the nearest
buildings secured with Marines in positions where they can see and report on what’s
going on around us.”

“Yes,
Captain,” replied Dawson.

“Ready to blow
the hatch,” Captain Foster said as she began backing away.

“Everyone fall
back,” ordered Dylan. He was concerned about going outside as most of the
Marines on the ship were in Type Three suits with only four platoons in the
more versatile Type Fours.

“Ready,
Colonel?” asked Nicole, gazing over at Dylan through the helmet of her Type
Three battlesuit.

“Blow it!”
Dylan ordered. There was no point in delaying their exit from the ship. The
longer they waited, the more ready the enemy would be.

Nicole pressed
the detonator in her hand and several resounding explosions rang out. When the
smoke cleared, the large hatch had been blown outward and Sergeant Dawson was
leading two squads of Marines through the breach.

“Incoming
fire,” Dawson yelled over the comm channel. “We’ve got several large groups of
conscripts in Type Two battlesuits moving in.”

“Captain Stern
and Foster, get your Marines out there and secure the perimeter,” Dylan
ordered. “We can’t let them pin us inside the ship.” As Dylan watched, more
Marines poured through the breach, and he could hear heavy weapons fire outside
the ship.

A Type Four
battlesuit coming up to him suddenly drew his attention. He recognized it as
Captain William Taylor, who had been in Dylan’s British Special Forces unit.

“What did I
miss?’ Taylor asked over the command channel. “The ship’s a mess.”

“At least
we’re down on the surface,” Dylan replied. “Where are the rest of your
Marines?” Taylor commanded all four platoons of the Type Four battlesuits
assigned to the
Defender
.

“Looking for
survivors,” he answered. “I figured the Type Fours, being smaller than the
Threes, would be better for searching the ship.”

Dylan nodded.
“Let’s just hope the damn thing doesn’t blow up on us.”

-

Outside the
ship, the Marines were trying to establish a defensive perimeter. Heavy
fighting was going on between the Marines and several hundred conscripts who
were pressing forward. RG rounds were flying everywhere and occasionally an RG
explosive round would go off. Already several Marines had been injured in the
fighting.

“Enough of
this!” Captain Foster said impatiently over the command channel. “Use your suit
explosives to take these conscripts out!”

“Firing,”
replied Sergeant Phil Dawson as he passed the order on to his squads.

Instantly,
from the twin tubes on the back of the Type Three battlesuits small explosive
rounds arrowed upward to fall back down on the advancing conscripts. Explosions
tore through their ranks, quickly thinning out their numbers.

RG rifle fire
and energy weapons soon eliminated the rest of the demoralized conscripts.
Around the
Defender
dead bodies lay piled high and several buildings
were on fire. Heavy smoke was rising up into the air with a lot of it coming
from breaches in the
Defender’s
hull.

“My sector is
secure,” reported Corporal Lisa Hayes.

“So is mine,”
added Corporal Anthony Harris.

“I don’t see
any more conscripts moving,” reported Sergeant Dawson. “I think we got all of
them, at least for now.”

Captain Foster
scanned the surrounding area with the sensors in her command suit. It did seem
as if the area in the immediate vicinity of the
Defender
was secure.
“Colonel, we’ve eliminated the conscripts and are setting up a defensive
perimeter.”

Turning
around, Nicole gazed at the
Defender.
She felt her heart start to pound
when she saw the shape the ship was in. There were several massive holes in her
side and a major portion of the superstructure was buckled. The
Defender
would never be able to take off from this planet. They were stranded here until
they could be rescued.

“Colonel, you
should know from out here, the damage to the
Defender
is terminal.”

“I already
suspected that, Captain,” Dylan replied. “I’m sending more Marines out. I want
that perimeter extended out at least four hundred meters from the ship.”

“Yes, sir,”
Nicole replied.

Captain Jamie
Stern walked over to stand next to Nicole. She switched her comm over to a
private frequency so the two of them could talk.

“We’re
screwed,” Jamie said, looking dismally at the
Defender
. “I don’t think
we’re going to get off this planet. With the Zaltule warships in orbit, our own
fleet doesn’t dare come back.”

Nicole was
quiet for several seconds. “I know,” she replied softly. “Jamie, I’m not going
to let the Kleese capture me. I won’t be wearing one of those damn obedience
collars again. I would rather go down fighting here on this spaceport than live
through that again.”

Jamie nodded.
“We’re not dead yet; maybe the colonel can figure something out. There are some
spacecraft here on the spaceport. Perhaps we can use one of those to escape.”

“If the
Zaltule don’t nuke us first,” Nicole answered. “That’s what I would do if I
were them.”

Jamie stood
quietly and then looked toward the center of the spaceport where half a dozen
large buildings stood as well as the control tower. “Maybe we should pay the
resident Kleese a visit and take them captive. The Zaltule might be hesitant
about using a nuke if they know we have some captives. We might even be able to
use them as a bargaining chip.”

“It’s an
idea,” Nicole replied with a nod. “I’ll suggest it to the colonel and see what
he says.”

“We’d better
do it quickly,” Jaime said. “They could be evacuating the spaceport at any
time. Once they’re gone, we’ll never be able to find them.”

-

In space at
the rendezvous coordinates, Admiral Adamson was under a lot of stress. All
three task groups had been lured into Zaltule traps. He didn’t know how, but
the Kleese had managed to figure out where his fleet was heading.

“What’s the
latest fleet status?”

Commander
Sandra Shepherd looked over at the admiral and shook her head. “It’s not good.
From the
Defender’s
task group we lost the
Firebolt
, two light
cruisers, and also the
Defender
. From the
Callisto’s
task group
we lost the
Cepheus
, three light cruisers and one of the Marine assault
cruisers. From our own task group, we lost the
Lynx
and two of our light
cruisers.”

Admiral
Adamson leaned back in his command chair and drew in a sharp breath. It was
worse than he had thought. He had just lost three of his battlecruisers, seven
light cruisers, one of the Marine assault cruisers, and worst of all, the
Defender
with Colonel Winfrey on board.

“Damaged
ships?”

“Several,”
Commander Shepherd answered. “However, all the damaged ships are still space
worthy and should have the majority of their systems back up and running within
six hours.”

“Do we have
confirmation on the destruction of the
Firebolt
and the
Defender
?”

“No,” replied
Commander Shepherd, shaking her head. “Commander Melvin on the
Falcon
reports both ships had lost their Fold Space Drives and were under heavy attack
when his ship entered Fold Space.”

Admiral
Adamson looked at the ship’s viewscreens for several moments. They were back in
the red giant system licking their wounds and he was wondering what his next
move needed to be. The screens were full of unblinking stars. One was focused
on the red giant, which nearly filled the screen.

“I’m going to
send the light cruiser
Warspite
back to Lymeth Three. I want to confirm
that both ships have been lost.”

Commander
Shepherd frowned. “That could be putting the rest of the fleet in danger. If
the Zaltule detect the
Warspite
, they’ll know our surviving ships are
close by.”

“It’s a risk
I’m willing to take,” Adamson replied evenly, his eyes shifting to Commander
Shepherd. “We don’t leave our people behind!”

-

Colonel
Winfrey and Captain Taylor were standing in the ruined Command Center of the
Defender
. Commander Greer was severely injured and in the ship’s med bay
undergoing treatment. The doctor was administering medical nanites in the hope
they could save the commander’s life. The med bay had come through relatively
unharmed and was running on an emergency power generator. Most of the rest of
the command crew had died when an explosion had roared through the Command Center, tearing consoles loose and bringing down support beams from the ceiling.
Captain Damon, Lieutenant Dragger, Lieutenant Coleman, and Ensign Walton had
all died at their posts. Over 80 percent of the crew in the Command Center had perished in the crash-landing.

“What’s the
latest report on survivors?” Dylan asked Taylor.

“Not good,
sir. Out of a crew of six hundred we have three hundred and twenty confirmed
dead, forty missing and around eighty severely injured.”

“Our Marines?”

“Our Marines
fared much better, but only because they were in their battlesuits. Even so we
lost eighty-seven.”

Dylan let out
a heavy sigh. This mission had definitely gone south. The only good news was
that the orbiting Zaltule battlecruisers hadn’t nuked them yet. A little while earlier,
he had sent several platoons of Type Three battlesuits and one platoon of Type
Fours to surround the large buildings and control tower at the center of the
spaceport. Captain Stern was in charge of the Marines with strict instructions
not to attack those buildings or the tower. If the Kleese followed their normal
doctrine, there would be popup weapons in that area as well as additional
conscripts the Kleese had held back for their own protection. As long as the
Kleese were forced to remain on the spaceport, it might prevent the orbiting
Zaltule ships from dropping a nuke.

“Captain, take
several squads down to where our hover tanks are and see if we can get them out
of the cargo hold. We could use their firepower if the Zaltule land conscripts
or come down to fight themselves.”

“That area of
the ship’s pretty banged up, sir,” Captain Taylor replied. “However, I’ll get
some people on it and see what we can do.”

-

Captain Jamie
Stern was several hundred meters from the tall grouping of buildings at the
center of the spaceport. She had already confirmed the buildings and the
control tower were protected by popups. Using her suit sensors, she also knew
there were at least another hundred conscripts hiding in that area waiting for
the Marines to attack. One of the tall buildings was heavily armored, and she
strongly suspected that was where the Kleese were holed up.

Sergeant
Dawson was standing beside her watching the buildings with his RG rifle cradled
in his arms. “I wish we could go in and get them.”

“This might be
best,” Jamie said. “This way they all stay alive and just maybe the Zaltule in
orbit don’t blow us up.”

Dawson was quiet for a long moment. Normally, he had a lot to say. “Captain, what do you
think’s going to happen to us?”

Jamie turned
to look at Dawson. He had been with her from the very beginning. He had been
abducted from the Marine base along with Colonel Nelson and everyone else many
years ago. They all knew what it was like to wear the Kleese obedience collars.
That time, in the trading station, the Kiveans and Colonel Nelson had gotten
them home. Now it was up to Colonel Winfrey.