cer’s body continued to hang there for a moment, as his wings fanned the air. So Quinlan fi?red again. “That’s for Nancy, you butt-ugly bastard!”
Homar’s body fell, a shout went up as the legionnaires surged forward, and the Trooper IIs began to run. The Ramanthians, none of whom could manage more than a fast shuffl?e, didn’t stand a chance. Even though Santana ordered his men to take prisoners, the legionnaires weren’t in the mood. Not after the slaughter in the LZ, the long march up the valley, and the attempt to eradicate them with the STO
cannon. They fi?red until their weapons ran dry, reloaded on the run, and fi?red again. So that by the time the battalion gained the top of the dam and the gun emplacement was located there, a long trail of dead bodies lay behind them. Demolition charges had been set, and were about to be detonated, when Dietrich and Fareye arrived. Both of their T-2s were out of ammo by then, but the master sergeant had four shotgun shells left, and the Naa had his knife. Three Ramanthians went down in as many seconds and the dam, not to mention the valley below, was spared. And, thanks to the efforts of Lieutenant-620 and his Seebos, all of the 1,142 civilian POWs who had been held prisoner next to the huge generators, were secured before the Ramanthians could execute them. A sharply fought action that would probably earn the young offi?cer a medal, assuming he survived long enough to pin the bauble on.
Santana jumped to the ground and walked over to stand next to the STO cannon. It was still aimed at a huge crater in the valley below. The Cyon River had begun to fl?ow into the depression by that time, and it looked as if the resulting lake would be three miles long and one mile wide. Santana knew that the next few hours would be fi? lled with casualty lists, the after-action reports that Quinlan loved so much, and a thousand other things. And once that process began, the assault on the dam would begin the slow fade into history. But right then, at that precise moment in time, a battle had been won. And that felt good. As the legionnaire looked out over the bloodied valley, and the slowly thickening clouds beyond, a single snowfl?ake came twirling down out of the lead gray sky to land on his navy parka. It was gone a few seconds later. But there would be more to come during the days, weeks, and months ahead. Because the Ramanthians had an ally—and its name was winter.
7
PLANET EARTH, THE CONFEDERACY OF SENTIENT BEINGS
With no fl?eet left to protect it, Earth was nearly defenseless, as the Ramanthian battleship Regulus and her consorts left hyperspace, and arrowed in toward the blue planet. There were thousands of them. By far the largest fl?eet ever assembled, even during the fi?rst and second Hudathan wars. About 25 percent of the warships were Sheen vessels that had been stolen from the Confederacy, which made the occasion that much more enjoyable from a Ramanthian perspective. Still, even though the once-mighty Stern-Krieger and most of her escorts had been destroyed, elements of the human armada remained. And rather than fl?ee, as Admiral Ru Lorko fully expected them to, the “animals” came out to fi?ght. The counterattack wasn’t a smart thing to do, since the Confederacy’s ships were doomed from the start, but it was incredibly brave. And that was something Old Iron Back wasn’t expecting to see from the humans. Not after the way the animals on the Gladiator surrendered months before. But it seemed that these aliens were more honorable, and rather than live as cowards, had chosen to die like warriors.
It was an honor that Lorko, like any member of the fanatical Nira cult, was duty-bound to grant them. So as destroyers, gunboats, and even tugs threw themselves at the Ramanthian fl?eet they were snuffed out with methodical precision. Not even lifeboats were spared. A magnifi?cent slaughter that Lorko would never forget.
But as thousands of humans died, and the admiral took pleasure in his victory, the Queen felt the fi?rst stirrings of worry. Because rather than surrender, as she had been assured that they would, the surviving elements of the home fl?eet had chosen to fi?ght. In order to buy time? So that those down on the planet’s surface could better prepare their defenses? Or for some other reason? The monarch feared the latter. What if the animals were less indolent than they appeared to be? What if somewhere, buried deep within their self-indulgent culture, there was a core of steel? That could be very dangerous indeed!
The monarch couldn’t afford to let such doubts show, however, as the leading elements of her fl?eet swept the last remnants of resistance aside and began to trade salvos with the planet’s orbital-defense platforms. The human habitats were massive affairs, each housing more than six thousand animals, and possessing a vast array of weaponry. According to intelligence reports each of the four battle stations was armed with a massive Class I energy cannon, plus two dozen lesser gun emplacements, and an equal number of missile launchers. This meant that, so long as all the platforms were operational, it would be diffi?cult if not impossible to put a signifi?cant number of troops on the surface of the planet. Impressive though the orbital fortifi?cations were, however, they had a major weakness. And that was the fact that while the ring of battle stations could lose one platform and still bar access to the planet below, the destruction of a neighboring habitat would open a hole large enough that invading ships would be able to pour through. And because the battle stations couldn’t direct their weapons downwards without running the risk of hitting Earth’s surface, once enemy ships managed to penetrate the human defenses, there was nothing to fear from above.
The remaining battle platforms could launch fi?ghters, however—a threat that the Ramanthians would have to counter. For that reason Admiral Lorko planned to put most of his capital ships against Battle Stations III and IV, while sending a swarm of smaller craft to suppress the aerospace fi?ghters from I and II. If all went well, both platforms would be effectively sidelined.
Meanwhile, aware that there were fortifi?cations on the moon, Old Iron Back planned to neutralize the batteries in the fastest and most expedient manner possible—nuke them. And that was the way the human colonies on Mars and Jupiter’s moons would be dealt with as well. While Earth had value as a bargaining chip, the rest of the solar system’s settlements weren’t worth occupying, and could be dispensed with. Yes, the Queen knew that the humans would make use of the new hypercom technology to call for help, which was why a signifi?cant portion of the fl?eet was being held in reserve. But given the alliance with the Clone Hegemony, plus confl?icts elsewhere, it wasn’t clear if the Confederacy would be able to respond in time. The coming hours and days would tell. In spite of whatever minor doubts she had, the Queen believed the strategy would work as she looked down upon the jewel- like planet that hung below her. Animals lived on it now. But someday, perhaps thirty years in the future, all of them would be dead.
BATTLE STATION III, IN ORBIT AROUND PLANET EARTH,THE CONFEDERACY OF SENTIENT BEINGS
“All civilian and supernumerary personnel will report to the mess deck, where they will receive combat support assignments. . . .” Battle Station III’s primary Command & Control (C&C) computer’s soft, dispassionate voice was supposed to communicate a sense of calm, even if that didn’t match what was going on. A fl?ight of three enemy missiles struck the station within yards of each other. And the nearly simultaneous explosions caused
