“Sanprash!” The subofficer grew livid. “They must be aimed at us. There’s nothing else of military importance for a thousand milots along this coast. It has to be the Ko-Dan, attacking! Somehow they managed to pinpoint this location!”
“Xur’s underground at work,” muttered another technician angrily. The subofficer ignored him.
“Never mind. We can handle it, no matter what they’re throwing at us. It’ll be a good test for the revamped gunstars and their crews. We ought to thank Xur for the target practice.” He turned to a voice pickup and his words were broadcast throughout the defense complex.
“Alert! We are under attack! I repeat, we are under attack!” Alarms began to sound as he continued. “Incoming spheroids of varying metallic composition. Intercept and destroy, intercept and destroy. Navigations prepare for onboard reception of intercept coordinates.” He looked back to the technician.
“Make sure the intercept point is at least two-dozen planetary diameters out. We want them to have plenty of time.”
“Understood. Schematics forthcoming.” Like everyone else in the room the tech was relaxed, confident. They’d been preparing for this attack for over a year now. “Incoming objects have passed through a destabilized section of the shield. They must be driveless. We may not have enough time for a two-dozen diameter intercept.”
“Make it a dozen, then. We’ll still have plenty of time to stop the first ones.”
Out in the hangar, Starfighters and Navigator/Operators were donning helmets and running last-minute equipment checks. Gunstars were prepared for final powerup, computers detached from central control.
The subofficer’s information was relayed to the command center nearby. An engineering officer made a last check of a certain console before speaking to the technician working next to him.
“Deflector shield powerup?”
“On-line. Standing by, sir.”
“Activate.”
“What about Plomerr Precinct, sir?”
The officer’s expression never wavered. “We’re the target here, not Plomerr. Our first priority is to protect the gunstar base. We’ll just have to hope those pilots can get to these incomings first.”
“Yes sir,” said the technician slowly. He had family in Plomerr Precinct.
Around them others worked smoothly at tasks long rehearsed. Everything was functioning according to design. Everyone was at their proper post.
Everyone except the monitor making his way along the service conduit that ran behind the main warboard. He did not long belong there, nor was the small package he carried so gingerly part of the intricate maze of circuitry and components that combined to provide the Rylan Defense Command with necessary intelligence.
Selecting a site, he placed the package in a gap between two fluid-state junctions. Then he retreated as fast as his feet would carry him.
Not far away, on the other side of the board, the general officer in charge of defense was feeling confident. He was in the process of requesting an update on the trajectory of the incoming objects with an eye toward sending a few of the gunstars racing back along that path in search of the Ko-Dan armada.
He was preparing to issue the necessary orders when the console he was studying exploded in his face, shredding it along with that of the technician manning the instrumentation.
Considering the small size of the explosive package, the resultant detonation was substantial. It effectively demolished the warroom along with all local communications.
A second similar package exploded simultaneously in a heavily guarded power station buried deep within the same mountain range. When the station went up, the power to the defensive shield protecting Rylos evaporated.
In the ruined warroom the technician who’d initially detected the incoming attack staggered clear of his demolished console. He was bleeding and dazed, as were most of his colleagues.
There was another console nearby, away from the central command area. It looked relatively intact. The technician stumbled over to it and flailed at the controls. At first it ignored his insistent demands, responding only after emergency power gave it life.
The technician worked with it until he had produced a duplicate of the plot he’d had on his own console. It showed the incoming masses with emotionless clarity.
They were as big as first suspected and traveling very fast.
When the first one reached a certain point on the screen, it disintegrated, along with most of the flank of the mountain in which the command base was located. Succeeding masses of heavy ore reduced rubble to powder. Mixed in with the ruined rock were the gunstars, their pilots, and the unlucky technician, together with the hopes of the League.
Other eyes watched avidly as pinpoints of light representing the heavy masses impacted one after the other on the surface of Rylos. There was measured, restrained jubilation on board the Ko-Dan command ship. Then the crew bent to their tasks. There was still much to do.
In addition, by concentrating on their work they were able to shut out the sight of the strutting, bombastic Rylan in their midst. To hear Xur talk one would have thought he’d reduced Rylos’s defenses all by himself, down to hurling the pieces of moon at the planet’s surface with his bare hands. Those forced to listen longed for the day when permission might be granted to expose the interloper to the sight of his own intestines.
They said nothing, keeping their desires concealed. One of their number had already been reprimanded by the Commander. None of the crew intended to tempt Kril’s anger a second time. Such were the rules that the Ko-Dan lived by.
Those rules were worth adhering to. They had made the Ko-Dan masters.
By now the invading armada had moved close enough to Rylos to show the planet and its satellites on high-powered visual scanners. They were not yet near enough to see the extent of the damage they’d inflicted on the surface, but further confirmation was unnecessary. Abstract imaging was documentation enough.
“A direct hit, Commander,” reported the fire control officer. “All strikes successful in succession. No manifestation of a defense, either ground-based or spatial. It appears that we can attack at will.”
“Thank you,” Kril replied. “Further use of the mass driver should not be necessary. I expect to begin negotiations leading to a formal change of government soon. They are clearly defenseless and have no choice but to submit or face progressive annihilation of population centers. The change-over to Ko-Dan administration should be brief.
“With Rylos subdued, the rest of the League should rapidly follow suit. This is a great moment for the Empire of the Ko-Dan.”
Xur wasn’t listening. At the moment he wasn’t listening to anything except the hatred in his own mind. He stared at the viewscreen which showed his now helpless home and exulted aloud.
“At last it is done! My return is complete. Soon all talk of a ‘Frontier’ will cease, as will the concept of the Frontier. It is revealed now for what it always was a screen consisting of nothing stronger than words.
“They will all bow to me, to Xur. They will bow to their new Emperor or I will darken the sky with their ashes! I will raze the cities of Rylos until all will to resist has been crushed. I will . . . !”
While Xur raved in the middle of the command center the Ko-Dan smiled to themselves and quietly worked at their stations. One communications officer was concentrating on a single, tight-beam coded channel that emanated from the surface of Rylos. It was the fleet’s only means of communicating with their Xurian allies below.
Now several monitors came alive on his console. He listened intently, waited for the computer to transcribe the code into Ko-Dan. As soon as this had been done he left his seat and hurried to report to the Commander in person.
“What is it?” Kril’s tone was relaxed now. The successful destruction of the secret League base enabled him to view Xur’s tantrums with contented detachment.
“The report is full of uncertainties, Commander. Our contacts on Rylos are having difficulty making observations while staying in touch with us because of the havoc caused in the sensitive area by our recent attack.”
“I sympathize. The destruction must be extensive. Yet it must be important or they would not take the risk of contacting us now.”
“Again, this observer wishes to make it clear he is not positive, but he thinks that one ship may have escaped from the Rylan base just prior to our assault. A very small ship, of indeterminate specifications. It could be piloted by a Starfighter.”
Xur whirled from the screen and the world it revealed.
“Could be? A Starfighter escaped?”
Kril sighed, held his temper. “It is only one small ship. What can one ship do against the armada?”
“You don’t know our history. You don’t know what these gunstars are capable of if directed by the right combination of instincts.”
Kril didn’t try to hide his contempt. “I was assured all such instincts had been bred out of your citizenry.”
“Out of most Rylans, yes, but not out of the more primitive peoples of the League.”