Chapter 21: The Ground Attack

“Wars may be fought with weapons, but they are won by men.”

—General George Patton Jr.

The team met after breakfast in the conference room adjacent to the bridge. The table was groaning with food and drinks.

Connie stood. “The nearest enemy troops are one and a half kilometers from our target. We must keep the subterranean connection in mind when we take the facility,” Connie stated, frowning.

“How do you plan to incapacitate and move the priests, flag, and general officers?” Jason asked.

“We will insert gas into the building through the air conditioning system and make holes in the walls at floor and ceiling level to ensure comprehensive coverage. We will capture the priests and the clones without a fight,” Janet said. “We will use Berna-ties and carry them out on grav-sleds, four at a time. On the shuttles, the sleds slot on top of three levels of ordinance rails on both sides and the frames in the middle. We can carry three times more people than if seated.”

“Do you have sufficient space for air defense equipment?” Jason asked.

“There’s a large square in front of the building where we’ll deploy our anti-fighter, anti-gunship systems alternating with our antitank and antipersonnel ordinance. There’s enough room to do everything necessary to secure our perimeter and protect our evacuation. We’ll also bring our tanks. We’ll use explosives to seal off the connecting tunnels.”

“What will we do if they are ready for us?” Asked Jason.

“If the troops anticipate our impending arrival, we may need to abort. We’ve counted ten thousand enemy troops in the last few days, but we suspect there are more. We did not detect any elite units,” said Janet, “I know they will be there, but in the hardened facilities.”

“What is the plan?” Jason asked.

“Five minutes before we hit the ground, our ships will hit the targets we identified and continue to hit them until we land, then we will hit them again using our fighters and gunships. We’ll use our tanks supported by gunships to mop up as many enemy troops as possible before they counterattack in force. Our bombers will carry loads of anti-fighter missiles to help protect us against fighters. I trebled our initial ground defenses. I want to protect us as long as possible,” said Phoebe. “Once we are on the ground, the clock is ticking. If they counterattack in force, we cannot hold the facility. We must hit-and-run.”

“The Mob will counterattack with tanks, fighters, and gunships. We’ll see troops emerge from hidden facilities. We’ll strike whoever shows themselves from the ships as soon as we see them emerge,” said Janet.

“I’ll deploy our frigates around us to help protect us, but we’ll face a growing force. We must get in, load up our sleeping priests and clones and then get away fast. We can’t go head-to-head with them; we don’t have the troops or the fighters,” said Phoebe.

“Once we strike them, they will reveal their defenses,” Janet explained. “I want to fight every battle with the priests on our terms.”

“Phoebe, how many enemy fighters do you expect to encounter?”

“If I planned to defend this planet, I would place fighters on the moon and the planet. I expect a hundred times as many fighters on a core planet as we deploy. On this planet, it is hard to predict. We haven’t seen any, nor have we seen any bases.”

“What can we do to nullify a possible fighter advantage?” Jason asked.

“We’ll destroy the moon defenses and the defensive platforms before the ground forces hit the dirt,” Col. Phoebe Harris noted. “We’ll leave a destroyer and a pair of frigates near the moon to intercept as many fighters as possible. Once on the ground, we will deploy anti-fighter systems and anti-fighter missile gunships. We’ll surround the facility with tanks and gunships. As soon as we see fighters, we will hit the base from which they emerge with bunker busters.”

“We placed mines around the defensive platforms and explosives on the platforms without exposing ourselves. We will lose troops and equipment at an increasing rate as the Mob mobilizes,” said Janet.

“Can you hit deeper facilities when you find them?” Jason asked.

“We will use bunker-busting missiles after cannons to hit the garrisons and fighter bases.”

“When will you put our guests to sleep?” Jason asked.

“We will gas our future captives five minutes before we fire a shot. The advance teams will hit the ground to set up a perimeter protected by tanks and assault gunships. Another vanguard group will set up ground-based defensive systems within the boundary,” said Janet.

“Won’t the frigates be vulnerable to anti-ship missiles?” Jason asked.

“I’ll station the cruiser and two frigates on the other side of the planet to strike any military facility that reveals itself. We’ll keep them well above the atmosphere so they can protect themselves. We’ll load some of our missile gunships with bunker busters and station them above us,” said Phoebe.

We’ll do what we intend to do with what we have!” said Janet confidently. “Our forces will maintain a robust defensive perimeter for the extraction.”

Eight Cardinals sat at their usual seats on the priests’ planet Nirvana, in the Temple of Paradise, in the center of the Cardinals’ compound. Papa Zora used his favorite conference room, which overlooked the park.

Papa Zora frowned as he looked up. “Cardinal Malkinski, why have we not heard from my ship? Ezekiel, isn’t that a little unusual? Bishop Friedrich is a reliable fellow. I’ve known him since he was a child. It’s unlike him not to call home,” said the Patriarch unctuously.

“Your Eminence, we have had several brief communications from the ship; the last one was nine days ago. They informed us they were under surveillance and didn’t want to put themselves at risk by communicating with us. Everything was progressing according to plan, and they were doing well.”

“What was the substance of his report?” Zora asked. “I am not comfortable unless I receive regular communications. I am concerned the Empress will find out what is going on.”

“We don’t believe the Empress knows our plans. Kargo attempted to meddle with the ship’s AI. He was ineffectual and painfully slow. He doesn’t have a crystal.”

The group laughed.

“Why is he so slow and feeble?” Papa Zora asked.

“The priests saw him on the ground and when he entered the ship with his family. They think he might be an older member of the Kargo family, not a younger one. He looked ancient.”

“This is typical of the Empress and her intelligence activities. She leads us down dead ends. We seek a young man who presents a significant threat, and we discover an old and feeble creature, but one who is calculating and cunning, a dangerous political animal. He is probably far less feeble than he looks. My disquiet grows daily; alert our spies to be vigilant,” said the Patriarch. “What progress have they made in poisoning, killing, or capturing Kargo?”

“Friar François Bechtold loaded his replicator in the early morning hours. Kargo’s vicious animals without reasonable justification tore him apart,” said Ezekiel Malkinski, the head of intelligence. “Kargo’s creatures are killers. Our people say Kargo acquired a pair of mythical Astro-hounds. Our people are AI specialists and are not equipped to deal with unknown wild animals with powers. The animals employed lightning to disable the friar before killing him and injuring several others. Kidnapping or assassination isn’t a short-term option. Our people will seek an opportunity, but they pointed out they have much work to do. Our group moved thousands of missiles to another hangar. They also upset the cannon and missile calibration.”

The group laughed again.

“One cannot permit a Kargo to run rampant. I am not convinced he is a frail older man. I am sure it was a disguise to lead us astray. What have we heard about the ambushes, Malkinski?” asked the Patriarch.

“All goes well. Your ship has not yet arrived. They are traveling inordinately slowly,” said Malkinski and laughed. “Our myths are persuasive!”

“By my calculations, the ship should have hit the first ambush by now. How are our negotiations going with the Mob?” Zora asked.

“Our people are finding the Mob challenging to handle. They are stubborn and won’t accept our direction. They are increasingly defiant. It’s unacceptable, your Eminence. They are not the people we knew,” said Cardinal Ezekiel Malkinski.

“What do you suggest?” Zora asked.

“We must train more of our own to become competent military leaders. We can’t rely on outsiders; the Mob is insufferable. Our ships are in position and are waiting and assure us they are ready to spring their little surprises,” said Malkinski and laughed.

They all laughed with him.

“Your Eminence, we have done as much as we can. If they fail, it’ll simply be a more difficult battle, and if they don’t succeed at the first point, we’ll succeed at the next waypoint,” said Ezekiel.

“I find it difficult to believe the battleship could handle both ambushes, but we have not had confirmation they have sighted my ship. Can we find out what is going on?”

“They assure me they wait in position.”

“What news of the fleet?” Papa Zora asked.

“The preparations are proceeding as planned. Our reluctant Admiral is doing what we ask. The people of the Empire are weak and soft.”

“Are we progressing with the Mob despite the difficulties?” the Patriarch asked.

“The meetings are on schedule. They will attack the Empire. Later we will tell them how much we weakened the Empire and how we will delay the Empire’s reaction. The Mob will do our bidding. You will have your just reward,” said Malkinski.

Papa Zora smiled a thin smile.

“I’ll have the matriarch’s head gilded and placed on a platform in my cleanser where she can watch me perform my ablutions,” said Papa Zora.

“I regret we must ally with The Mob. I knew no one at our first meeting. An arrogant group displaced those I knew from my youth. We must watch them; I don’t trust them. Their worlds are wealthy, but they fell behind the Empire,” said Ezekiel Malkinski.

“Soon, we’ll have a military force that can bend to our will. We’ll show this Mob we are a force to be reckoned with,” said Papa Zora.

“At our last meeting with the Mob, I heard one of them talk about events in another galaxy when he did not realize I overheard,” said Cardinal Aurangzeb Mirabet, Planning. “He said something about more coming over, but they were not yet ready. I thought I also heard him mention Archduke Kargo.”

“That is decidedly odd. Keep your ears open; I will inform the Coven representative when I see him,” said Zora. “Let us move on to business units. Sabas, I see sales are flourishing, and your flow of products has improved. Let’s keep it up; maintaining the fleet is prohibitively expensive! Opachinski, how is it going?

“Growing and processing food for the clones provides us with many challenges. We sent our farmers to keep our costs down, but even so, the cost is breathtaking,” said Opachinski. “The clone exercise drained three-quarters of our reserves.”

“It’s cheaper to acquire a fleet than buy one,” the Patriarch proclaimed sonorously while looking proudly at his team.

They laughed long and loud.

Four hours later, Jason was in one of the large shuttles dressed in heavy armor, a helmet, and a visor. The armor was powered and bristling with weapons. Simulations familiarized him with the interface, but the reality was confronting. It was much thicker than ship armor; his body felt distant as the suit plugged itself into his orifices, and a gel surrounded him. He felt claustrophobic but ignored the feeling. Jason could see behind himself by turning his head right or left and above him by looking up. Jason concentrated on breathing slowly and regularly. Twenty Marines, loaded for bear, served as his guard. The trip to the surface was eerily quiet. The defense platforms didn’t lock onto them while cloaked.

Jason appreciated the artificial gravity and how well the craft managed inertia. They hopped through the atmosphere to the surface. They landed with sixty massive tanks, miscellaneous armored vehicles, gunships, weapon and missile platforms, larger versions of the tanks, and troop carrier after troop carrier. A ring of missile batteries and cannons surrounded the building. The engineers installed a two-meter-high reinforced outer perimeter wall.

Jason and his group ran toward the building, following the Marine vanguard. Marines unloaded a second and third line of missile systems and defensive batteries mounted on dedicated heavy tanks from yet another wave of assault gunships.

An intelligence lieutenant met them and assured Jason that the facility’s priests and clones were asleep. The Marines carried out sleeping hogtied priests and loaded them in ascending racks in a gunship. Janet’s disembodied voice informed them the Marines disabled the defensive platforms and the facilities on the moon.

A Marine lieutenant approached Jason. “We found the most senior general. Would you like to see her and the room before we load her onto the ship?” Jason nodded and followed her into a comfortable but sparsely furnished room. It had a queen-sized bed and a large desk. A picture of Patriarch Papa Zora, smiling benevolently, dominated the room.

The general was lying on the bed. Jason couldn’t see her face as her body and head were covered by a light blanket. He stepped toward the bed, reaching forward to look at her face. The cupboard opened, revealing the general dressed in full armor.

“In my hand, I hold the trigger for a bomb under the bed. If I’m unhappy with your story and reason for being here, I’ll trigger the bomb. Who are you, and why are you here?”

The general opened her other hand to show an Armog 8, a lethal grenade of Empire manufacture. She pointed to one of Jason’s Marines.

“Look under the bed and into the box. Tell them what you see,” she commanded in a firm but calm voice.

The Marine looked under the bed as instructed.

“There’s a box of sixty Armog 8 grenades under the bed. They are all wired together. That box of grenades will create one hell of an explosion.”

“We have nothing to lose; several of us have similar explosives. So, tell me a good story. We knew you guys were looking and listening. You must think us, amateurs.”

There were several loud explosions in the distance.

“I don’t believe you. It’s a fabrication. The priests wouldn’t let you have so much ordinance,” said Marine Sergeant Olivia McNamara.

“I’m delighted,” the General said, “that someone here has at least half a brain. Make it quick; time passes, and your window of opportunity closes fast. You have nothing to worry about if the sergeant is right, but you are in a lot of trouble if she is wrong. The priests are half asleep; we stole the ordinance and some weapons.”

The ground shuddered. The explosions were so close and loud that hearing her was difficult. Anti-aircraft missiles fired, one after the other, a sound Jason recalled from simulations.

“My name is Jason Kargo, and I come from a primitive planet called Earth. My family is from the Empire, and the emperor is my uncle. He sent us to Earth as insurance if the second Mob war went against the Empire. I am traveling to the Empire as my great-grandfather is ill, and the Empress asked me to assist him.”

Fighters whooshed past, followed by anti-aircraft and cannon fire.

“A battleship came to fetch me. That battleship is above us. We are destroying the priests’ defenses. We came here to take the priests and senior clone officers back to our battleship to find out what was happening.”

“Sir, we must hurry; fighters are coming from the other side of the planet, and an army of priests is five minutes away.”

“Let me provide a brief but relevant history of my journey to the Empire. Priests tried to assassinate me before I left and poison me on the ship. I discovered a plot by the priests to poison men throughout the Empire. I found convincing incriminating material on the ship about Papa Zora, enough to be able to call him out as a traitor to the Empire. We suspect he wants to use you to attack the Empire. He hates the Empire and aligned the priests with The Mob.”

There was a series of thunderous explosions that shook the ground.

“Papa Zora has priests on the battleship trying to sabotage what we do. Pirates endeavored to block me from returning to the Empire. I propose we take you and your people with us to the ship and have discussions to work together to consider what we do. We might plan to attack Papa Zora together.”

“Why should we bother to listen to you? We can do the same without you.”

“Sure, you can, but then what? I am part of the royal family, and we have unique genes that can give you normal lives. That will give some of you a normal life. You can validate my royal status if you have a gene test machine.”

“Yes, I believe you, but thousands wouldn’t. Marine,” she pointed to the same one who had looked under the bed, “go to the door and turn left and at the first door on your left, enter and ask my assistant to bring in the gene validator.”

More fighters screamed past, followed by another series of explosions nearby and extending into the distance. There was a loud explosion very close to them. The walls and floor shook.

“Jason, you must get out of there,” said Janet, “we are having trouble holding them back and keeping you safe.”

The Marine went next door and brought in a Major clutching a trigger and carrying the gene validator.

“Test this gentleman and tell me if he’s of royal origin,” said the General, “and make it snappy we need to get out of this place.”

One of the Marines awkwardly unlocked Jason’s glove to expose his hand to the validator.

“Processing,” said the major, “it takes a minute for full validation with the primitive low bandwidth connection we have here. The priests installed a tenth-rate infrastructure in this place,” said the major.

After ten seconds, she showed the General the panel.

“All right,” replied the General, “get Andrea and tell her to move her people to the shuttles and tell the others it’s okay, and I’ll explain later; we need to move and move now! This place will soon be a hornet’s nest, and I want to avoid becoming Krevil feed.”

The ground shuddered once, then three more times. Constant explosions followed one after the other, sometimes in clusters, sometimes one thump followed by another. Marines carried the last priests with ties on their wrists to the waiting shuttles and gunships.

All in full armor, the generals, admirals, and their staff ran out with Jason to the gunships and escorts.

The gunship launched explosively from the ground and lurched as they jumped. A hologram formed in the front of the cabin. They were already outside the atmosphere. The battleship was a speck in the distance.

They were far from safety. Jason felt powerless; he could do nothing.

Jason opened his visor and held his glove, “I want to introduce myself formally. I am Jason Kargo from the primitive planet Earth two galaxies away.”

“I am General Linda Andrews, and this is my colleague, Admiral Andrea Phillips.”

The battleship was a bit bigger but a long way away. Jason’s stomach felt hollow. The shuttle lurched one way, then another, and took such a steep turn they fell on the floor.

As he crawled back onto his chair and held on, he looked at the hologram.

A pair of missiles turned towards them.

They exploded so close to the gunship they lurched.

Two enemy fighters were racing towards them.

One of the escorting fighters maneuvered behind the enemy. There were several flashes near the fighters. One of the enemy fighters exploded.

Hundreds of missiles screamed up from the surface of the planet.

There were three dogfights near them and many explosions in the atmosphere. Friendly fighters marked in green returned from the surface. A cloud of enemy fighters darted into the atmosphere from around the planet. The enemy fighters chased the ship’s returning fighters, dashing toward them at a frightening speed.

The pilot dodged debris from the damaged weapons platforms, slowing progress. Some enemy fighters headed for the distant battleship and cruisers, but two squadrons of enemy fighters turned towards them and fired missiles.

The gunship moved in an erratic pattern and ejected drone fighters and countermeasures while the point defense system continuously fired mini-cannon and missiles. Their escort of fifteen fighters and three gunships did their best to protect them but exploded one after another. Three fighters and a damaged gunship remained while the enemy turned toward them.

Jason was facing his doom.

Two frigates jumped from the atmosphere below. The frigates dashed toward them. The frigates fired missiles and cannons at the enemy fighters. Jason was too nauseous to feel hopeful. The gunship lurched convulsively. The hull creaked ominously. There was a sickening thump against the hull, and they lurched again. The maneuvers were beyond the ability of inertial compensation. Jason held on to his seat with power-augmented gloves. His left handrest crumbled. There was a second thump. The craft lurched in a different direction.

Jason’s head banged on the bulkhead behind him. There was yet another thump and a tearing sound. His visor slammed shut as the hull burst inward, and the atmosphere hissed out. One of the unconscious priests and half a square meter of hull fragments were sucked out into the vacuum of space. Wrappings and drink containers whooshed past his seat. The seat gripped Jason tightly. The hull repair system closed the hole from the edges inward and sealed the hole in the shuttle in seconds.

The shuttle lurched sickeningly once more, but the gunship continued relentlessly. Jason couldn’t see any enemy fighters nearby. The frigates turned to follow them. One remained slightly behind them; the other accelerated ahead of them. The remaining enemy fighters were too far away to harm them.

They were going to make it. He sat back, panting. He saw Andrea’s eyes crinkling. She was laughing! She lightly punched Linda, the general.

Jason opened his visor as he left the gunship on unsteady legs. He bent down onto his knees to kiss the hangar deck. The Marines and the clones laughed.

Jason invited the flag and general officers to a meeting room. His escort followed. He asked the sergeant to arrange quarters for the officers near the Marines and fighter pilots.

“Welcome to Central Command. Please excuse me for a moment while we review the status of our operation. When the situation settles, we’ll introduce ourselves, and we can chat,” said Jason apologetically. “We’ll show you to your wardrooms. You can refresh yourselves, and we’ll guide you to the canteen in an hour for lunch. If you prefer, you can return here first.”

A lieutenant led the clones from the room.

Marie walked in five minutes later with a team of waiter bots carrying drinks and a selection of pastries.

Jason cycled through the holograms to find the beginning. Shortly after they landed on the ground, fighters, tanks, and gunships emerged from underground bunkers to engage the atmospheric fighters. Cannons, missiles, then bunker busters struck the areas where the fighters had emerged. The fighting was intense, but heavy gunships, missile gunships, and the frigates in the atmosphere supported the battleship fighters. The ships targeted the enemy missile platforms and decimated the ground forces. The enemy launched fighters, and five thousand troops streamed out of underground bunkers.

The enemy troops had no defenses against the relentless onslaught from the ship-based heavy weapons.

The anti-aircraft missiles and other defensive cannons made a critical difference in the early stages of the conflict. They may have even turned the tide as they were effective against the enemy fighters rising to intercept the gunships and the fighters escorting them.

There were not enough ship-based fighters to defend the gunship from the relentless enemy attack from the planet-based fighters as they jumped above the atmosphere. The enemy left the atmosphere in superior numbers from the other side of the planet to engage the shuttles and gunships returning.

The gunships carrying the priests and clones were heavily armed and armored, as were the landing assault shuttles and gunships carrying the troops. Jason’s gunship was protected by as many fighters as Phoebe could spare and two missile carriers. The missile gunships that escorted them were taken out shortly after they jumped. Rogue enemy fighters attempted to attack the ships but could not penetrate the fleet’s protective screen, and the ships dispatched them. The battleship and cruisers employed their mid-range batteries with some effect but often missed agile fighters. The frigates were much more effective against the fighters and patrolled around the battleship.

The enemy shot down forty-three fighters, two bombers, two missile gunships, and three assault gunships, but the pilots survived. Four of the fighters crashed to the ground. Phoebe recovered all but one.

On the ground, the tanks proved themselves invaluable. They were equipped to deal with both air and ground forces. They each carried thirty Marines. The tanks were more than a match for the Mob-built enemy tanks. The enemy destroyed two tanks and severely damaged six, but the ship’s cannons and missiles shattered the enemy ground forces.

Gen. Linda Andrews and Adm. Andrea Phillips returned after ten minutes and intently watched the hologram action. Jason showed them the battle from start to finish.

Janet Malone recalled the ground forces after Jason left the surface. Fighters continued to patrol near the ships and the surrounding area.

On the planet, tanks, gunships, and fighters maintained active patrols but did not venture into space.

Jason introduced Janet Malone and Phoebe Harris to General Linda Andrews and Admiral Andrea Phillips. Linda introduced the senior clone team.

Robert and Marie were delighted to serve the senior clone team and added staff to the kitchen from more distant canteens.

“Jason, at long last, we are starting to get the people to make this canteen buzz. Double the number and add a few more; we’ll be happy. Many of my top staff are back from the other canteens, which means more great food! We won’t let you down,” said Robert excitedly, hopping from foot to foot and rubbing his hands together. Marie was grinning and wiping her hands on her apron. She grabbed Jason and danced around the kitchen.

“Jason, when you become famous, remember Marie and me, your early partners in this endeavor. This is an exciting trip and an adventure second to none,” said Robert.

Jason looked at Robert and Marie down his nose and turned down his mouth.

“Sorry, Mr. Chef, I’m the Chief Poobah of the Empire, and I am not convinced that I’ve met you before; what is your name?” Jason asked, using the ancient accent once used by the members of the court. Robert grinned, Marie giggled, and Jason laughed.

“Robert, who are all these people trooping in and through the kitchen, and what are they doing with all that food?”

“The staff of the generals and admirals are stocking their staterooms with food and drink. You have five levels of Admirals, five levels of Generals, and droves of supporting officers. The elite clones settled in and relaxed in the lounge before lunch. It’s pretty intense there, and they’re having serious discussions. It would help if you had a staff of your own. You do too much yourself.”

Jason laughed. I can’t imagine what I would do with staff. I walk the dogs. I never snack on food; I am dressed by a dresser and washed by the refresher. Ship drones clean my room. I go to the gym, spar, and then use the simulators. Some afternoons I socialize. I cannot imagine what my staff would do.”

“Nonsense, Jason, they would ensure you dress well and always tidy your room. They can carry your gym equipment and towel.”

Jason threw up his arms.

“Robert, would I require three people to do all of that? Someone can brush the dogs and take them for a walk in the afternoon. I want someone to hold my towel in the gym and wipe my brow when I sweat. A different person can carry my slate; it is heavy. My hands used to hang below my knees; now, they almost reached my ankles. It will be a great help if there is a person to dial the bed size I need if I am entertaining. If I exert myself, they could hand my partner and me a drink,” said Jason.

“I agree, Jason, a staff of at least three would help your status,” said Robert seriously, then laughed. “You should have seen your face, Jason! Gotcha!”

The kitchen staff laughed. There was even more noise than usual as the kitchen was full of busy chefs.

“Jason, I met the originals of the top General and the Admiral long ago. Linda Andrews was a remarkable General. She had a sunny disposition and loved practical jokes. Adm. Andrea Phillips was a great Admiral and an incredible organizer. She was a sophisticated and gorgeous woman who was cold and had a tongue so sharp she could cut you into pieces you wouldn’t know were falling apart. As a person, she was a prime bitch. Be careful of her. She had a nasty streak, and her mouth could spit pure poison. Being around her was walking on thin ice,” said Robert, visibly shuddering. “The only woman who scared me more was the Empress, but she was never spiteful nor unkind.”