Exodus: Empires at War: Book 7: Counter Strike by Doug Dandridge Page B
Authors: Doug Dandridge
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through the mirror. “And we’ll get you what
you need.” With that, he stepped through the wormhole, and into the
disorienting stretching of time that its travel entailed.
*
* *
FENRI SPACE. NOVEMBER
22 ND , 1001.
“There goes the last of our orbital defenses,”
said Lt. General Jonah Nowitski, the commander of XXXXI Heavy Corps, of which
Brigadier General Samuel Baggett’s Three Eighty Fourth Heavy Infantry Division
was part.
Baggett looked at the holo above the tactical
table of his HQ bunker, seeing the last of the defense satellites the Fleet had
left in orbit blinking for a moment before fading. The icons approaching the
planet were still there, though the orbital satellites had scored some hits
while that Fenri fleet was on final approach.
“Seems like such a waste to have put them there
in the first place,” came the deep voice of Major General Lanbardran, the
Phlistaran commander of the One Ninety-fifth Heavy Infantry Division, which,
along with the Forty-third Armored Division, made up the Corps that had
attacked this planet. “They are so fragile, and fleeting. Just targets for
the enemy to knock down.”
Baggett agreed. The satellites lacked even the
defenses of the larger forts, while their only real striking power was in the
missiles that they carried. Even a near miss by a powerful warhead would take
them out. But they had been all the Fleet had been willing to leave behind
when they bugged out. With the promise that they would return , he
thought, wondering how much truth there was in that oath.
“The enemy is six hours from orbital
insertion,” said the Corps Commander, whose command was only at half strength
as it was. “I intend to hit them hard as soon as they start landing
operations.”
That was the standard tactic to oppose an
invasion. Shore batteries, missiles, lasers, particle beams, even projectile
cannons, waiting, powered down and in hiding, until the enemy ships started to
pump out their assault shuttles. That was when the enemy would be at their
most vulnerable, with openings in cold plasma fields. Still, those planetary
guns could only count on getting in a couple of shots before they were taken
out by kinetics. Really, the only defense against an enemy fleet was another
fleet, and theirs was nowhere in evidence.
Baggett shook his head as he looked at the
display of ground assets they had. Enough to sting that enemy, if not stop
them. And he wondered how heavy the enemy response would be. Probably
heavy as hell , he thought, looking at his secondary and tertiary command
positions, his out if they discovered this position. And if they knock out
the Corps and other division commanders, I get to move up rank again , he
thought. Not that I really want corps command. Hell, I really didn’t want
division command, not at the price the Major General had to pay.
“When can we expect fleet support?” asked Major
General Natasha Romanov, a distant cousin of the Emperor, but, from what
Baggett could tell, a woman who had gained her rank honestly. It was a stupid
question, of course, since Nowitski had no answer, and everyone knew as much.
But it was the same question that Baggett wanted to ask, and he was sure
Lanbardran as well.
“From the number of troop transports the enemy
has in their force, my intelligence staff estimates we will be facing at least
six heavy divisions, or as many as fourteen lighter formations, replied the
Corps Commander, ignoring the question.”
So at best we’ll be outnumbered four to one , thought Baggett. About
proper odds to take a planetary surface, especially when they have the high
ground of orbit. And there’s no telling what Marines the warships carry, and
how many they might be willing to deploy. Probably all of them, if it allows
them to take the planet.
“I think we have done as much planning as we
can, since our next step will depend on the enemy’s,” said
you need.” With that, he stepped through the wormhole, and into the
disorienting stretching of time that its travel entailed.
*
* *
FENRI SPACE. NOVEMBER
22 ND , 1001.
“There goes the last of our orbital defenses,”
said Lt. General Jonah Nowitski, the commander of XXXXI Heavy Corps, of which
Brigadier General Samuel Baggett’s Three Eighty Fourth Heavy Infantry Division
was part.
Baggett looked at the holo above the tactical
table of his HQ bunker, seeing the last of the defense satellites the Fleet had
left in orbit blinking for a moment before fading. The icons approaching the
planet were still there, though the orbital satellites had scored some hits
while that Fenri fleet was on final approach.
“Seems like such a waste to have put them there
in the first place,” came the deep voice of Major General Lanbardran, the
Phlistaran commander of the One Ninety-fifth Heavy Infantry Division, which,
along with the Forty-third Armored Division, made up the Corps that had
attacked this planet. “They are so fragile, and fleeting. Just targets for
the enemy to knock down.”
Baggett agreed. The satellites lacked even the
defenses of the larger forts, while their only real striking power was in the
missiles that they carried. Even a near miss by a powerful warhead would take
them out. But they had been all the Fleet had been willing to leave behind
when they bugged out. With the promise that they would return , he
thought, wondering how much truth there was in that oath.
“The enemy is six hours from orbital
insertion,” said the Corps Commander, whose command was only at half strength
as it was. “I intend to hit them hard as soon as they start landing
operations.”
That was the standard tactic to oppose an
invasion. Shore batteries, missiles, lasers, particle beams, even projectile
cannons, waiting, powered down and in hiding, until the enemy ships started to
pump out their assault shuttles. That was when the enemy would be at their
most vulnerable, with openings in cold plasma fields. Still, those planetary
guns could only count on getting in a couple of shots before they were taken
out by kinetics. Really, the only defense against an enemy fleet was another
fleet, and theirs was nowhere in evidence.
Baggett shook his head as he looked at the
display of ground assets they had. Enough to sting that enemy, if not stop
them. And he wondered how heavy the enemy response would be. Probably
heavy as hell , he thought, looking at his secondary and tertiary command
positions, his out if they discovered this position. And if they knock out
the Corps and other division commanders, I get to move up rank again , he
thought. Not that I really want corps command. Hell, I really didn’t want
division command, not at the price the Major General had to pay.
“When can we expect fleet support?” asked Major
General Natasha Romanov, a distant cousin of the Emperor, but, from what
Baggett could tell, a woman who had gained her rank honestly. It was a stupid
question, of course, since Nowitski had no answer, and everyone knew as much.
But it was the same question that Baggett wanted to ask, and he was sure
Lanbardran as well.
“From the number of troop transports the enemy
has in their force, my intelligence staff estimates we will be facing at least
six heavy divisions, or as many as fourteen lighter formations, replied the
Corps Commander, ignoring the question.”
So at best we’ll be outnumbered four to one , thought Baggett. About
proper odds to take a planetary surface, especially when they have the high
ground of orbit. And there’s no telling what Marines the warships carry, and
how many they might be willing to deploy. Probably all of them, if it allows
them to take the planet.
“I think we have done as much planning as we
can, since our next step will depend on the enemy’s,” said
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