Part 6 (1/2)

The carrier swept out of the mothers.h.i.+p at last, and Grant got his first real view of the battlefield. The large, open s.p.a.ce of the s.h.i.+pyard was littered with the burnt, twisted wreckage of downed alien carriers. Although he knew what those vehicles carried, he tried not to think of the loss of life each one represented. That could come after the fight-if he made it that far. For now, they were just the opponent in a kill-or-be-killed game of life or death.

Scattered among the downed hulks, he saw undamaged craft land and discharge scores of Minith foot soldiers. Several turned their weapons on the human carriers now flying fifty feet above their heads. Most were rus.h.i.+ng toward the mothers.h.i.+p, intent on taking it and any humans left aboard. They would be disappointed to find her empty of life.

He bid the s.h.i.+p adieu and wished her well. She had served humankind well over the past few years and she would be missed. He then turned his attention to the battle that had already entered the streets ahead. The four lanes they had selected formed a straight line from the s.h.i.+pyard to the Minith leader's supposed location. By now, he could have easily been moved from there, but Grant was counting on the Minith's overconfidence to work in his favor. The Minith held humanity with such disregard, they would likely never consider that Grant's forces could make it that far.

Once again, Grant considered taking his twenty carriers of infantry straight to their target and bypa.s.sing the ground troops. Again, he disregarded that idea. He could not leave them to fend for themselves. If the advance forces were correct, the Minith were ma.s.sing their soldiers to the north and would not stand a chance without reinforcement from the soldiers in the carriers.

”Alpha One, come in.”

”This is Alpha One, General.”

”What are you seeing out there, Scott?”

”A lot more of the same, General. All fighters are down to pulse weapons,” the pilot replied. Grant could hear the captain panting and grunting. Flying between those buildings, while putting effective fire on the enemy, took concentration. ”So we have to fly lower to be effective... we're getting torched . . . two more crews are down... not sure how long this can last, General.”

”Understood, Scott. Do the best you can. The reserve force is en route, and will be on the ground in five. In the meantime, can you send a couple of yours to the scout the north? I need to know what the enemy forces are like between us and the target. Over.”

”Roger. Wait.”

Grant listened as the captain ordered two of his pilots to break off their attacks and head north.

Two minutes later, as Grant's carrier entered the same street where t.i.tan and his Telgorans were fighting, he received word back from the two pilots. It was not good.

”Sir, there are Minith ground forces all over the place to the north and more are arriving every second. It looks like they're putting every one of their soldiers in our path.”

”Estimate on the number?” Grant asked. His head dropped in antic.i.p.ation of the answer. Even with less than ninety minutes' notice, the Minith were responding much better than he had antic.i.p.ated.

”We estimate at least twenty thousand, General.”

Twenty thousand?

The five-to-one odds he had estimated had just jumped to twenty-to-one. Even higher, considering the losses they had already sustained.

”At least half of those are in the area immediately surrounding the target's residence, General.”

The gig was up, Grant knew. They could not hope to push through that many of the Minith. His mind reeled with possibilities and choices. As each one entered his mind, it was discounted.

Retreat to the mothers.h.i.+p? Can't, the Minith have taken it by now. And even if we recaptured it, could it take off? And if it could, where would we go?

Send the reserve carriers ahead to the target? Too late for that. You should have done that twenty minutes ago when there was a chance of success, but you blew it.

Surrender and hope to save as many of your men and women as you can? Never. The Minith would kill us all anyway, so we might as well die fighting.

Keep pus.h.i.+ng on? What else can we do? Reinforce those on the ground and push until we can't push any further.

Keep pus.h.i.+ng on.

Grant opened a comm line to all forces.

”Listen up, everyone. A slight change of plans! I want us to concentrate all of our forces on only two streets. All forces proceeding along street one, work your way east and link up with the forces on street two. Then proceed north as planned. Similar order for all forces on street four. Work your way west and join with the forces on street three. Forces on streets two and three, keep pus.h.i.+ng north. All reserve carriers, unload accordingly and support the push. It's going to get rough, folks, so fight hard and fight smart.”

Grant received acknowledgement from the unit commanders regarding the new orders. He then ordered the pilot of his carrier to drop them near t.i.tan and the Telgorans. The alien team was already on street three.

”We're in for a fight, huh, General?”

Grant looked back at Sergeant Conway. He had forgotten he had company in the carrier.

”Yeah, Conway. We're in for a h.e.l.luva fight.”

”Don't worry, General. We'll be watching your back when the s.h.i.+t gets heavy.”

Grant considered what waited to the north.

”It's not my back I'm worried about.”

Thirty seconds later, the door swung open and the team exited the quiet coc.o.o.n of the carrier. As Grant expected, he was immediately a.s.saulted by the sights, sounds, and smells of battle. No matter how many times he joined a battle already in progress, the first thirty seconds on the ground always seemed a strange mix of the real and the surreal. The sudden, combined rush of adrenalin, fear, and awareness took his mind and body to a new level of consciousness-one he had forgotten he possessed until this moment.

After years of sleep, he was suddenly awake.

His first thought as his boots. .h.i.t the ground was, I'm on another planet. Again.

His second series of thought were, Move to the front of the carrier. Where's the action? What are the threats?

His feet carried him around the carrier and he surveyed his surroundings. He was in the middle of the wide, extraterrestrial street. Although the materials that made up the street and the surrounding buildings were somehow different, it was not all that much different from a street back on Earth. With one exception. It was buckled and broken from the artillery barrages that preceded the movement of his forces. He registered the explosions of additional artillery rounds a hundred meters to the front. The sound comforted him, and he knew without looking that the source of those explosions was still behind him.

Twenty meters to his front, he spied several of the orange-clad Telgorans. They were moving quickly to the north. Twenty meters ahead of them, through a thin cloud of smoke, Grant spied the lumbering forms of the two tanks a.s.signed to this street. Their turrets and automatic weapons were pointed ahead and firing regularly. An occasional pulse of dim red light reached out toward the tanks as the Minith returned fire.

A jet screamed overhead at a height of roughly fifty meters. It was heading north, toward the ma.s.s of Minith soldiers that waited.

On a secondary level of awareness, he recognized that Conway and her team were a.s.sembling to his sides and he somehow knew they were waiting for him to determine their next move. He did not keep them waiting.

Seeing no immediate threat from either of the buildings to their flanks, Grant angled toward the one on the right. When it was comfortably hugging their right flank, they proceeded north in single file along the broken street.

As the team moved, Grant's head was on a swivel, constantly checking his surroundings for threats. He observed the arrival of the other carriers and watched as the infantry offloaded and rushed to join the movement north. Always north.

Within minutes, the squad encountered their first intersection and Grant held up a fist, indicating a halt. He peered around the corner of the building and was greeted with an expected, pleasant view as forces from street four made their way toward his location. Several teams of tired infantry led the procession and, upon reaching the street where Grant waited, turned north and joined the forces of street three. Behind the infantry, he spied the artillery carrier and a single tank bringing up the rear.

Granted waited for the tank to arrive, and then jumped up on the vehicle and pounded on the hatch.

He was greeted by one of the crew.

”Where's the other tank?”

”Didn't make it, General. What you see here is what you get.”