The target must have dropped below Blackstone’s horizon, Kaethan surmised.
“What do you mean `nearby’?” Serina asked.
“Overhead, probably.” Kaethan shook his head in dismay.
“I’m going to look outside,” Serina said in a rush and ran outside.
Kaethan, however, much preferred to hear this conversation occurring, even though he was getting only one side of it. A ship must be entering the atmosphere with unknown credentials. Most likely it was on approach pattern to Reims, which often passed right over them. Aliens, perhaps? Smugglers? Pirates? His mind ran wild with the possibilities.
His father was silent for a long time, though Kaethan couldn’t tell whether he was listening to anything. At one point, however, his father’s focus shifted over to him and their eyes met. It was a strange moment, where Toman shook his head and rolled his eyes in exasperation. Kaethan felt oddly close to his father at that moment for some reason.
Then his sister barged back in.
“I saw something big,” she announced. “A transport, I think. Looked like it was heading for Reims. Too many clouds to see it for long.”
His father paid attention to that, but then suddenly turned away as someone must have been saying something again on his fieldcomm.
“Clean up an Isis and ready it,” the colonel then said coldly. “Ask Blackstone for clearance.”
Kaethan knew what an “Isis” was, and his stomach dropped. His father’s Bolos were just ordered to ready a nuke for launch. He and his mother had often read the colonel’s letters together, and he learned much of the current equipment and lingo from them. To “clean” it, he knew, meant to reconfigure it for reduced fallout. Even with that, however, Kaethan doubted that Blackstone Ridge would clear it. Unless things got desperate, there was no way that Delas would use a nuke within the atmosphere.
Serina now decided that this was a good time to sit down, and dropped down on a big chair that was nearby. Kaethan remained standing.
“Where’s it heading?” Was his father’s next question.
The colonel then started looking frantically around the lobby, searching for something that he was obviously not finding.
“Did—” His father cut short, stopping his search, “Yeah, I was expecting that. Battle Reflex Mode. Track it as best you can and keep trying to get hold of Rokoyan.”
His father closed his fieldcomm with a crack of metal against metal.
“Are we being invaded?” Serina was first to speak.
“Looks like it, Serina,” Toman said sadly, looking at his children. “Son, their transport is setting down somewhere between here and Reims. They just took out your arrays and will probably bring down everything else along with it. Best you mobilize your battalion and hit them as hard and as fast as possible. You can’t let them dig in.”
“Just one transport?” Kaethan wondered.
“Just one for now, but I certainly expect more.”
“What about Chains and Quarter?”
“I can’t deploy them yet.” The colonel shook his head. “With only one turret defending this planet, I don’t want my Bolos caught flatfooted in rough terrain when a warship squadron enters orbit.”
“What should I do?” Serina asked helplessly from her chair.
Kaethan could see his father mentally shift gears as his expression softened. He feared his father would just say something comforting and unhelpful that Serina would hate. Instead, he gave Serina something to do.
“You should probably call Peter to get back here, and warn people what’s going on. Tell everyone to stay off the highways as much as possible and stay home.”
“I should get going.” Kaethan announced then. “Will you be heading back up to Starveil?”
His father shook his head.
“No. I’ll be staying where the action is. I need to see what we’re up against.”
Kaethan’s DDF issue handphone chose that moment start squealing horribly. The captain fumbled to turn it off as Serina winced against the noise.
“That’s my call. Wish me luck.”
Before Kaethan could go, though, Serina jumped up from chair and caught him in a big hug. The captain returned it as best he could, then pulled away.
“Don’t get hurt,” Serina ordered as she let go.
“Good luck,” his father told him.
Kaethan motioned a cursory salute to his father as he pushed open the doors into the hot, moist outside air. He half walked, half jogged to his vehicle, passing blissfully unaware students along the way. The captain had never led troops into actual combat before, of course, and countless questions hounded him now. Had he treated their exercises too much like a game before, he wondered? How would his battalion react now that it was real? Strangely enough, though, it was excitement, not fear, that was filling him. That was likely to change, Kaethan knew, once the shells started flying. But until then, this was the emotion that the captain wanted his troops to tap from him.
That and confidence, of course.
But with his father on the planet, he suddenly worried about the latter.
* * *
Our Commander has finally spoken with General Rokoyan of the Delassian Defense Command. Much of the conversation was spoken with voices raised many decibels higher than what is normal for effective dialogue. There are many differences of opinion on what strategy to take in eliminating this incursion, aggravated by questions of authority between the DDC and the Concordiat. As the planetary ground forces mobilize, the 39th holds ground on the flat plains south of Starveil. Our Commander grows impatient for a strike to their beachhead, but his plan to dedicate Unit DBQ to this attack was withdrawn when we were finally allowed full access to the DDC sensor net.
The planet Delas is surrounded.
Although the orbital arrays have been eliminated, ground-based passive detectors scattered over the Delassian surface continue to monitor glimmers of fusion drives maneuvering into position around the planet. For now they wait outside the range of my active scans, but a rush is obviously being organized to test our defenses. Every quarter of Delas’ Northern and Southern Hemispheres are being threatened, along with both poles. Against a well-defended planet, this would be a foolish and disastrous plan, allowing all defenses to be utilized against the assault. But our enemy obviously does not mind wasting lives and material against us while their previous insertion no doubt catalogs our every response.
And unfortunately they will find our response to be limited. Unless our Commander’s plan fools them, our enemy will know that the far side of the planet is completely undefended. Their strategies displayed so far indicate an 80.31 percent chance that a large invasion force awaits the result of this attack. Unit DBQ and myself must do our best to discourage our enemy from deploying it.
* * *
“All is ready, Is-kaldai.” The projected visage of Irriessa filled the rear wall of Keertra’s command chambers. His hood was extended in exhilaration. “These aliens bestowed upon us a gift when they fired their energy cannon at your ship. Removing it now should be a simple matter.”
As Keertra had hoped, the Ad-akradai’s vehemence against him had dissipated now that combat had begun. Getting Riffen’s most loyal commander to trust him, though, would still be a great challenge.
“Indeed, Ad-akradai,” Keertra replied gloriously. “And it fired at such range that I dare believe that it may be the only protection that this outpost maintains! Would it not shock our timid Council if we were to take this planet ourselves!”
“Split between our factions equally, of course.”
“Of course, Irriessa,” he said with as amused an expression as he could present. “The Council would accept nothing less.”
For a moment, Keertra could see his rival’s commander lose himself in the promise of such glory. His ice-blue eyes became unfocused, and his hood expanded to its full size. The blood vessels that branched out within bulged prominently with a noticeable pulse.
But then the commander’s military experience returned in a flash. He suddenly looked at Keertra in defiance.
“We should not talk about these things before the battle is won, and our enemy lie dead at our feet.” Irriessa scolded Keertra, and perhaps himself.
“You are right, Irriessa. They may yet surprise us. Will your warship captains now follow my commands?
“They will, Is-kaldai. We should begin immediately.”
“I will give the order.”
“Is-kaldai . . .” Irriessa delayed, for what he was about to say was difficult. “I was wrong to doubt Khoriss’ mission. I listen to your orders now with greater respect.”
“Thank you, Irriessa. I’m sure we will learn much from each other before this is over.”
“Perhaps.”
The communication channel closed as Irriessa shut his eyes in respect. Keertra sat back in his chair, relishing the victories that he was winning, on the planet and here also. If indeed these aliens were as weak as they seemed, then he might just have to expand his plans. Becoming Mor-verridai could be meaningless if the remaining Is-kaldai were to claim vast new tracts of alien territory and resources, without suffering disabling casualties in the process. It would be better, he mused, if these aliens were a bit tougher. Just enough to keep the remaining Is-kaldai occupied while he eliminated the entire royal family, and its lineage, back home.