Dreadnaught

“Then I’ve only got one option.” He activated the bombardment command, the clock on the time-to-launch running steadily down toward zero, then tapped approve and confirmed the order. A few minutes later the countdown spiraled to zero, and warships began spitting out kinetic bombardment rounds.

The barrage came down through the planet’s atmosphere like a fall of deadly hail, each solid piece of metal dropping at tremendous speed, gaining energy as it plummeted to the surface, until at impact, that energy was released in a burst of destruction. The people on Dunai could see the rounds coming, could determine their targets pretty closely, but had no means of stopping the projectiles and, with the fleet’s warships in high orbit, had only minutes in which to react. Personnel could be seen fleeing targeted facilities and fortifications in vehicles and on foot. Other vehicles with the military units near the prison camp frantically tried to scoot out of danger.

The bombardment had been timed for every round to hit home as close to simultaneously as possible in order to enhance the psychological impact of the blows. There wasn’t any need to enhance the physical impact as the kinetic projectiles struck their targets. Weapon sites became craters, buildings holding sensors or command and control facilities were blown apart, and roads and bridges disappeared where the rounds hit. In a wide area along the path down which the shuttles would bring the Alliance Marines, and in an extended perimeter outside the prison camp itself, organized planetary defenses ceased to exist within less than a minute.

“Launch the recovery force,” Geary ordered.

Shuttles dropped from all four assault transports and from several battleships and battle cruisers as well. Carabali had decided on overwhelming force within the prison camp, and Geary hadn’t hesitated to approve that choice, memories of the fight on Heradao still far too vivid.

As the Alliance shuttles penetrated the atmosphere and dove for the prison camp, Geary noticed that Desjani was watching them with a bleak expression. “Are you all right?”

“Just remembering.” She said nothing else, and he left it at that, knowing that Desjani was not yet ready, perhaps never would be ready, to share some of the memories that haunted her.

The Syndic defenses seemed to be in total confusion as a result of the bombardment. Aside from disrupted ground forces milling about outside the prison camp, nothing else had gone active. “Twenty-five minutes to first shuttle landings,” Carabali reported to Geary. She was on one of those shuttles but would be among the last to land. “No resistance noted.”

“We have missile launches from the surface,” the combat systems watch announced at the same time alerts blared on Geary’s display. “Medium-range ballistic missiles from an installation to the northwest of the camp, and low-level cruise missiles from some place to the east.”

It took three taps of commands to get recommendations from the combat systems. “Fearless, Resolution, and Redoubtable, make sure those ballistic missiles are stopped. Leviathan and Dragon, eliminate the launch site with kinetic bombardment.”

But the cruise missiles were another matter. Their flight path was taking them at low altitude over a sprawling metropolis with extended suburbs. Hitting them from high up without also striking the civilians below would not be easy. “Colossus and Encroach, destroy the cruise missile launch sites now but wait to engage the cruise missiles until they clear those suburbs, then take them out.”

“Those suburbs come close to the prison camp,” Desjani pointed out. “You didn’t give them much of a window for engaging those cruise missiles.”

“We can’t just punch hell lances through civilian dwellings.”

“They’re forcing you to make that choice!” Desjani insisted, as hell lances from Fearless, Resolution, and Redoubtable tore apart the ballistic missiles at the peak of their trajectories, and the rocks from Leviathan and Dragon headed downward for the place that had launched the missiles. It might be a case of slamming the barn door after the horses escaped, but that particular barn wouldn’t be letting any more horses go after it was turned into a field of craters.

“I know, but—” Geary broke off speaking as something caught his eye on the display. “What’s Dreadnaught doing?” The battleship was veering downward, leaving high orbit to skim the upper reaches of atmosphere. He hit the comm control viciously. “Dreadnaught. What are you doing?”

Jane Geary seemed preoccupied as she answered, her attention focused to one side. “Dreadnaught is engaging threats against the landing force and the prisoners, Admiral.”

The only threats Dreadnaught was moving to engage were the cruise missiles. “Colossus and Encroach are assigned those targets, Dreadnaught. Return to station now.”