Sword of Axia (The Arcadian Jihad) (15 page)

“Berg, you could defend that place with just a few hundred men.”

“That’s probably true, as they have several thousand stationed there I doubt they’re overly worried. There’s another problem too, my friend. You’re not a Hesperian so you wouldn’t know, but it’s almost winter here on Hesperia.”

“Cold?”

“Oh yes, very cold. I’ve known a man’s piss to freeze while he’s still fastening his fly buttons.”

System Standard 2728.1306 Lyra City, Planet Axis Nova

Shemal Kerawan knocked on the door. The guard scowled at him and he remembered the early days when he could just walk in to the Grand Pasha’s office unannounced. No longer, there’d been at least three assassination attempts on the Axian leader, perhaps more. They suspected that there’d been several failed attempts that had gone unnoticed including a bomb planted on his personal ship that had failed to explode. Since the loss of the hydroponic planet, Isolde, the regime’s popularity had plummeted. People were starving and they blamed the leadership, perhaps unsurprisingly. What was more worrying was that many were starting to compare the Axians with the Rescom Federation. The comparison was anything but favorable to Merca Gluck and his tight-knit group of senior priests, officers and politicians. Kerawan was grudgingly admitted to the inner sanctum and came face to face with the Grand Pasha, the highest ranking Prophet in the universe after Axia, ruler of the Nine Systems.

“Yes, what is it, Kerawan, you know I’m busy?”

The light of fanaticism still burned in Gluck’s eyes, he’d lost none of the strength and ambition that drove him to the highest position in the known universe. Yet he’d changed, the smooth arrogance was not quite as it once was. Once, he’d been the hunter, the predator, flushing out and destroying all who stood in his way. Did he look more like the hunted now, or was that Kerawan’s imagination?

“It’s about your daughter, Grand Pasha, Evelyn.”

“I know who my daughter is, what’s she been up to now?”

“My reports say she is on Hesperia, Sire. She is in the ancient city of Perian.”

He didn’t correct Kerawan these days when he used the honorific ‘Sire’.

“That could be awkward if she get’s caught up in the fighting.”

“She already has, Sire. Evidently she persuaded a large part of our garrison on Hesperia to defect to Rescom.”

He waited for the inevitable explosion, remembering his history, in ancient times messengers were often killed for bringing bad news. But he did not fear that fate, indeed he was gloating inside at the discomfort of the man who had caused him so much humiliation of late, treating him more like a menial servant.

“Has she gone raving fucking mad, Kerawan? Are you sure this is true?”

It was the first time he’d heard Gluck swear, it was a measure of his panic.

“It is true, Sire, I’ve had independent confirmation, there can be no doubt.”

“I’ll kill the fucking bitch, damn it, find some reliable men on Hesperian and have her killed. No, wait, I need to speak to her and ask her what she’s up to. How is the battle going on Hesperian, what’s the latest news?”

Kerawan hesitated, working out how best to phrase it. “We’ve lost most of the planet, Sire, but there is some good news. Our remaining men are inside the city of Santuzza, our commanders say that they can defend the place indefinitely, provided they have sufficient food and ammunition. They plan to let Rescom exhaust themselves through the coming winter, it is excessively cold on Hesperia. In the spring they’ll break out and counterattack the enemy. With any luck they can smash through to the capital Tulum inside of a month.”

“Can we supply them?”

“Absolutely, Sire, we have a fleet of blockade runners taking in supplies on a daily basis. Not enough at present, but if you will give the order I will arrange for additional ships to be sent to join them.”

“Consider it ordered, Kerawan. And my daughter?”

“If you wish I can arrange for our agents to ‘rescue’ her from Perian, she can leave Hesperia on one of our blockade runners returning empty.”

“Do it. I am looking forward to a quiet conversation with Evelyn. I am surprised that she of all people does not realize the true role of women in Axian society. She needs to be taught a lesson. There is an ancient saying, Kerawan, ‘don’t spare the rod’. Do you know what it means?”

“I do, Sire. Beat them until they see things your way.”

“Exactly.”

System Standard 2728.1307 Surface of Planet Hesperia

Someone opened the door and a dozen voices shouted, “Shut that damned door!” Max looked up. “Admiral on deck. Sorry, Sir.” They all jumped to attention as Rusal came into the room, followed by Constantine Blas.

“Relax, men,” Rusal nodded at them. “It’s ok, Mr. Biermann, they’re right, it’s damned cold out there. I’ve come for a situation report. Where’s Berg Smetana?”

Max looked a little sheepish. “Well, he’s not here at the moment.”

“I didn’t ask where he isn’t. Answer me, man, where is he?”

“Yes, Admiral. He’s away on a mission.”

“Inside Santuzza?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Damnit, he shouldn’t be in there, it’s too risky for my best commanders to go behind the lines. How is everything looking here?”

“We’ve got them encircled, as you know. Their ships keep trying to run the blockade and bring in supplies, but we’ve taken a heavy toll of them, we’ve shot down scores of them, they’re running out of ships. The weather helps us too, our intelligence reports that their ships have had endless trouble with the cold weather, their hydraulics and mechanical systems are constantly breaking down. As you know, our plan is to weaken the defenders until they’re almost out of ammunition and food and then mount a full attack that will take the city.”

“You know that we’ve taken all of the major planets in the Spica System, Hesperia is the last one. And the most important. Santuzza is the key to everything, if we fail to take the city we could allow them the space they need to regroup and counterattack. At the very least we’ll have a thorn in our sides, we can’t allow them a base in our rear from which to mount guerilla attacks. It mustn’t happen.”

“We’ll do our best, Sir.”

The door opened again, this time no one shouted. It was Berg Smetana, blue with cold, frost even rimed the thick beard he’d grown. They shook hands.

“Get over to the heater, Berg, you’re freezing to death,” Constantine said.

“It’s colder inside the city.”

“So it’s working, the blockade?”

“Like a Geistian watch, perfectly.”

Rusal automatically raised his wrist to look at his watch, a masterpiece of Geistian technology famed throughout the Systems.

“Do you have any plans for the timing of the attack?” Smetana asked. “They’ve gone onto one third rations as of this morning. Their morale is at rock bottom, if we leave it any longer one of their blockade-runners could make it through and put food back into their larders. That would raise their morale and make them much harder to defeat. We need to go in the morning.”

“Very well, tomorrow it is. I’ll call in some heavy artillery to bombard the city before you go in…”

“No. That’s not the way to do it,” Berg interrupted.

They looked at Smetana. “Why not?” Rusal asked truculently.

“Look at it this way. Santuzza is a heap of rubble, it’s a natural defense system, a maze of underground bunkers and tunnels protected by collapsed buildings that are better than space raid shelters. They’re thick enough to stop any of our laser and plasma blasts. The very bombardments that were intended to finish off the defenders have created a perfect defense for them, another bombardment will only make it worse and even give them advance warning of what we’re up to. We need to surprise them, hit them when they’re not expecting it.”

Rusal thought for a few moments, but he knew that he couldn’t countermand decisions based on the superior local knowledge of his ground commanders. “Ok, Berg, we’ll do it your way. Tomorrow it is, a lighting strike, no advance bombardment. Are we all agreed?”

Blas and Smetana nodded.

The following morning they were assembled in a shivering group in the freezing morning, crouched behind a wrecked accommodation block in the suburbs of Santuzza. Rusal had gone back to his flagship to alert the ship’s armament and detection systems to ensure they weren’t attacked in the rear from an Axian force that might try to slip past unnoticed. Once more, Blas had persuaded him to allow Dirk Gehlen, his first officer, to take command of the Rex Vitas.

“Berg’s men will need a liaison between the ground and the ship, Admiral. We’ve worked together so many times we know what the other is thinking almost before it’s happening, I’m the right man for the job.”

Rusal had allowed it, he wasn’t sure that Blas was the only officer who could work with Smetana, but what he did know was that their long line of successes was enviable. Now was not the time to break up a successful partnership. Blas was shivering inside his super-thermal clothing, waiting with Berg and Max for the start of the attack. Around the city were twenty five thousand Rescom troops, every one of them anxious to get inside the city and kick out the Axians so that at least they could find somewhere warm to spend the coming night. The temperature had dropped below minus fifty degrees, it made everything difficult and equipment malfunctions were fast becoming a real problem. He tensed as Smetana checked his watch for the fiftieth time. The Hesperian turned to them. “It’s time.”

There was no warning, no advance artillery barrage, no fanfare of trumpets or whistles, no shattering attack from space based particle or plasma artillery. There was just the stealthy sound of thousands of men creeping forward, the brush of a uniform jacket on stone, the grunt as a trooper slipped on uneven ground and barely stopped himself from tripping and falling. The final attack on Santuzza had begun.

They’d gone two hundred yards when Berg gestured for them to take cover. He pointed to a ruined factory building five hundred yards away. Ruined but still standing, on the roof was a sensor array, the electronics package that would give early warning of an impending threat.

“Have they picked us up yet?” Blas asked.

Smetana shook his head. “Probably not, but this is as far as we get undetected. That sensor array covers this whole perimeter from two hundred yards above ground level to fifty yards below. As soon as we go forward, they’ll know we’re here.”

“What do you suggest?”

The Hesperian smiled and stood up. “Only one thing for it. Charge!”

They leapt up and ran forward, Blas thought it incredible that they got as far as they did, they were halfway across open space making for the outer defenses, great walls of rubble piled high. Could the Axians be so hungry and demoralized that they neglected to post sentries? Were they tired of the fighting and just longing for it to stop? Then the morning came alive the sounds of battle, beams shot back and forth as both sides open fire. Troopers fell either side of Blas but miraculously he was able to reach a broken building and take shelter behind the shattered masonry that was all that remained. Berg and Max crashed down next to him. The sound of the Axian defensive weaponry was a deafening roar, accompanied by the screams of the wounded.

“We need to make the final push,” Berg shouted. “If the men see us hiding here they won’t go forward.”

“Berg, they’re killing us with that gun, what the hell are they using?”

“It’s some kind of a heavy plasma rifle, we just have to rush it and take the casualties.”

“No, I’ll go in alone, give me few minutes to get into position and then pour it on. Don’t risk any more men.”

“Constantine, you can’t take that gun on your own, it’ll tear you to pieces.”

“I won’t be on my own, Berg. I’ve got this.”

He held up his hand. A uni-directional tactical nuclear grenade lay in his palm.

“Where the hell did you get that, they’ve been banned for the last hundred years?”

“I picked it up in the armory in Tulum, I suspect they were considering using it against us. The niceties never did bother the Axians very much.”

“I don’t think they saw it being used that way, thrown into the middle of their own troops,” Max said drily. “It’ll certainly do the trick if you get near enough. You know that the fall-out from this could damage you as much as the enemy?”

“I reckon it’s a lesser danger than the alternative, if we make a frontal attack on that gun we’ll lose a lot of people.”

Smetana nodded. “In that case we wish you luck.”

Blas jumped up and moved to his start position behind a nearby rock pile, he looked like a sprinter on his starting blocks. Except that no sprinter ever started with a hand-held nuke to carry.

“Prepare to fire. As soon as you see him throw the grenade, hit the dirt and get as safely undercover as you can. Medic,” he shouted. A man came running up carrying the bag of electronics that were the tools of the orderly’s trade. “Do you have any old fashioned radiation cream in that bag of yours?”

“Radiation? But, Sir, atomics are not used on the battlefield these days, you know that.”

“Just check, see what you have,” he said quietly.