Koban: Rise of the Kobani by Stephen W. Bennett Page B

know was happening. Some of them have started showing a bit of human cunning recently. What is the terrain like, around where they landed and towards Novi Sad?”
    The major, having anticipated this, called up map overlays and satellite images of the area, feeding them from his wrist computer to the large tactical screen in the war room.
    “The two red dots are the estimated landing areas of the two ships. We lost Turb trails on them when they went below the mountain peaks, and they stayed stealthed, of course. We assume they are within two or three miles of the red dots on the map.”
    Nabarone expertly assed the terrain. “The foot hills area could conceal a lot of forces, but there isn’t a good fast approach to Novi Sad that would let them mount a surprise attack from there. We would see them coming for twenty miles. A heavy artillery barrage would cause them too many losses over that distance. A steady accumulation of massive forces to the south of there, like they used at Crager Heights would work better.”
    He asked Caldwell a question about something he saw on the map. “That black symbol for an abandoned base of ours, it’s within the ring of uncertainty for that first clanship’s landing. What kind of base was there before we pulled out?”
    The major put a pointer on the icon there, and the AI popped up a long list of details of the former Special Ops base, unglamorously but humorously named SOB-23. The boundaries of the base were superimposed on the map, and the central hub wasn’t very impressive in size, but the spider work of tunnels under , and along the ridges and foothills revealed it had a much wider area of influence than the central base otherwise indicated. The outpost was designed for infiltration, as the enemy lines pushed closer, and even shoved past the base. It finally had been completely overrun and abandoned.
    Nabarone tapped the transducer behind his ear to activate his Link capability. He spoke to his AI system. “Carla, answer on speaker. How large a diameter are those tunnels leading from the selected base? Could Krall Dragons and armored troop transports be moved along them? Several tunnels extend towards Novi Sad about ten or fifteen miles in length. That could give them avenues to roll up on us a lot closer before we saw them. They’d also have protected underground supply lines.”
    Of course, her bland reply was instantaneous. A clearly female AI voice was something Nabarone had insisted on being programmed into his system. The subservient roll of men had ended in this war as far as he was concerned, and this was a small symbol, with a woman’s name from out of his past added to annoy his superior officers, all of them female. He wasn’t bucking for a third star on his collar anyway. That would promote him above his present command, and entail a transfer to wherever that lofty assed rank would take him. He wasn’t leaving Poldark.
    “Sir, the height of the tunnels is too low to accommodate the armored Krall warrior transports. Any standard Krall truck or halftrack would fit, and Dragons are low enough. However, the mini tanks would fit only with their plasma barrels depressed, and pointed forward or behind. The turrets, with barrels attached, would be unable to rotate more than 40 degrees and the firing elevation is…”
    “Stop.” Nabarone cut her off. He didn’t anticipate the Krall would remotely consider fighting tanks inside a narrow tunnel. However, they might move forces through them into fighting positions fast and undetected.
    “Sir,” the major offered a reminder. “The base is mined and has Krall body detection sensors. If they enter that, the sensors will blow and collapse the main base and any tunnels they enter. They’d lose the equipment, which they often seem to value more than the warriors inside the tanks or trucks.”
    “Right! But, I damn well won’t risk a major city and a war-manufacturing center if the Krall have found a way to fool our