The Landfall Campaign (The Nameless War) (25 page)

The missiles gouged out two massive wounds, atmosphere gushed out and secondary explosions wracked the ship. The mutilated starship crossed over the top of Douglas but was no longer in any condition to respond in kind.

Far below in Four C there were no cheers or shouts, just the sound of men and women analysing the information from their computers. In the command booth Eulenburg said nothing as he watched.


Admiral, the bombard is breaking orbit. It

s withdrawing, sir.


Sir, Anshan is signalling that the bombard on approach to them has pulled away. Looks like they

ve figured out we have teeth.


Yes,

Eulenburg replied,

Now we find out what its cost us. Coms. Please raise Brigadier Chevalier.


Yes sir,

the coms officer replied,

marine command online.


Sebastian, what

s the situation?

There was a pause on the line and then a voice, not the one he expected replied.


Admiral, this is Colonel Pickette.


Colonel, where is the Brigadier?

Eulenburg asked, who even as he spoke could feel his gut twist in anticipation of the answer.


I

m sorry sir, the Brigadier is down.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

Diplomatic Feelers

 

13
th
January 2067,

 


So, anything come up over night?

Temporary Ambassador Chris Byrne asked as he padded into the main Embassy situation room.


The file is just being compiled. Coffee, sir?

the secretary, his secretary now, asked.


Yes, thank you Craig,

Chris replied with a smile. It was definitely nice being the boss. If he played his cards right he might even make it permanent.

What

s the weather like today?


Minus seven degrees centigrade.


Hmm, positively cosy.

Rather than sit he wandered over to the quadruple-glazed main window and looked out at the tundra beyond. The Combined Earth Embassy on the world of Phton was the most important diplomatic posting anywhere within the service and in some ways the most dreaded. Phton

s orbit around its star was a wide ellipse. Which meant that approximately a quarter of the planet

s four-hundred-and-fifty-three day year was spent beyond the outer edge of the Goldilocks Zone, the orbital region in which water could exist as a liquid. So every year Phton plunged into a mini ice age, to emerge four months later. Even during the height of summer it was bloody cold and definitely not a climate that in any way suited humans. Ambassador Hinson had been sent home a fortnight earlier with pneumonia. It was no wonder the Mhar, the planet

s dominant life form, bore at least a passing resemblance to Earth

s polar bears.

If it had been for just the Mhar themselves, then the Embassy would have been much smaller. Indeed, humanity might not even have kept a permanent embassy at all. But both humans and the Aèllr discovered Phton at roughly the same time, approximately fifteen years after the end of the Contact War at a time when the ensuing cold war between the two former belligerents was well under way. The Mhar were just about a spacefaring civilisation, although not at that stage capable of interstellar travel. For a while both sides jostled for position, trying to bring the Mhar into their camp. Then finally a different route was taken, the Three Planets Treaty was signed and the Mhar became the hosts of the only point of direct contact between Earth and the Aèllr Confederacy of Worlds. That made it the most important human embassy in existence. If you could survive the cold, you were made.


Good morning Mister Ambassador,

said Battle Fleet Commodore Latawski, the Embassy

s military liaison officer.

I have the morning briefing.

The Commodore was as usual immaculately dressed and as he took the computer pad Chris felt a brief twinge of guilt at still being in his dressing gown. Most of what was on the pad was very run of the mill, prompting Chris to think to himself that it would be nice if something significant were to happen. His attempt to open diplomatic contact with the Nameless the year before had been a failure, but it had raised his profile. That had got him the Assistant Ambassador post and it would be nice if he could now turn his temporary elevation into a permanent one. As that thought crossed his mind Chris scanned across the last item on the list, then abruptly read it again.

An Aèllr personnel transport had arrived in orbit overnight, dropping a single shuttle. It didn

t look unusual on the face of it but the devil was in the detail. The new arrival was from the Aèllr world of Otiu - the most recently founded of their daughter worlds, settled only about forty odd years earlier. Its population was tiny - barely into the six-figure range and its government had no direct contact with any other outside the Confederacy. So one of their ships certainly had no reason to be orbiting the Mhar homeworld.


Who did this transport deliver?

Chris asked as he tapped the computer pad.


We don

t know, sir,

Latawski replied, before adding ruefully:

this climate always gives a very good excuse for people to be heavily wrapped up and concealed. That was one thing sir, our source at the space port seemed to think this arrival was unexpected by the Aèllr Embassy.


Oh?


They didn

t have anyone waiting.


That is odd.

Chris tapped the pad against his palm as he thought. Could mean something or could mean nothing at all. There were those, both on Earth and in the Embassy, who believed it was only a matter of time before the Confederacy took some kind of advantage of humanity

s preoccupation with the Nameless.

Alright, I

ll be getting dressed. I want us to put out whatever feelers we have. Aèllr don

t go in for winter sports, whoever this is must be here for a reason. Anything else?


Yes. A Mhar courier came in from their colony about an hour ago. It made a transmission as soon as it made real space re-entry.


Do we know what they said? Do you think it

s important?


No, they were using a high level military code we haven

t been able to break. But there

s been a lot of chatter on the military channels since then.


They are doing their autumn manoeuvres aren

t they?

Chris replied before finishing off the last of his coffee,

Surely it

s to do with that.


I

ve never known this kind of activity in relation to manoeuvres. Not in the four years I

ve been here.

Thank you Commodore,
Chris thought to himself,
never leave out a dig that I

m not here long.

___________________

 


Ambassador.

Chris looked up from his computer screen.


Yes Craig?


A messenger has arrived, sir. He

s from the Department of Off-World Contact and he

s asking to speak to you directly.


Oh Lordy. Better get my suit then.

Why a race whose idea of

room temperature

would freeze an Inuit put so much emphasis on face-to-face contact he didn

t know. It wasn

t as if the Mhar hadn

t invented electronic communication. But they did, and that was why a posting to Phton came with an arctic survival suit.

The messenger was waiting in the Mhar meeting room, the one room in the Embassy cold enough for a Mhar and still warm enough for a human. The messenger was a fine example of his species, nearly three metres tall and a metre across at the shoulders, topped by what seemed like a disproportionately small head. His two beady black eyes peered down at Chris as he started to speak - a high pitched squeaking one of the early human diplomats had uncharitably compared to that of a squirrel. Chris waited for the computerised translation.


I welcome you this morning Ambassador Byrne. I am Face Speaker of the First Level Yawe.

That made him a very senior government official, only one step below the forum of ministers. Any message he was delivering could only be a high level contact.


Thank you Face Speaker. How may I assist you?


Ambassador, I am here on a matter that has arisen unexpectedly and is of the greatest importance to us. One of our messenger ships arrived here a short time ago. It reported that our colony on Second Phton has been attacked.


Attacked!

Chris gasped as his mind

s eye replayed his small part in the events of the previous year, when his diplomatic ship had been forced to flee from Nameless missiles. Surely it couldn

t be them. They were coming from the opposite side of human space.

The Nameless?

he asked almost fearfully.


No Ambassador, it is not the species you have labelled The Nameless. Our attackers are Tample, of the star nation Uide. The messenger ship has taken eight days to reach here. When it left Second Phton, the guard ships had been destroyed or put to flight. Uide soldiers were already being landed.

The translator

s flat mechanical voice lacked any kind of urgency, but Yawe

s fur was brisling and his shoulder crests kept flickering up. The Face Speaker was highly agitated and he was struggling to control himself.


Face speaker,

Chris said after taking a moment to compose himself,

all nations of Earth will deplore this act of unprovoked aggression. It will be publicly condemned, of that you can be sure.


Ambassador, the Mhar need more than words at this time, particularly those of us on Second Phton.


What is it you ask of us Face Speaker?

Chris asked with a sinking feeling in his gut.


If we are to eject these invaders and liberate our brothers, then we must ask you for armed assistance. Your war vessels are needed.

___________________

 


No,

said Commodore Latawski with a shake of his head as soon as Chris finished briefing his section managers.

Fleet is not going to send even a single ship.

Chris nodded morosely. The Embassy got a lot of information from home, which was only passed to the Mhar in a filtered form. It had been the formal policy since the start of the war, so while the Mhar knew of Earth

s troubles in general terms, they didn

t know the full extent to which Earth was struggling. Anything that the Mhar received would ultimately find its way to the Aèllr, which made keeping up the illusion of strength important but now impossible.

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