Battle Pod

“Sir, Tel Aviv Hab has fifty percent greater firepower. They hotshotted their lasers, sir.”

Supreme Commander Hawthorne opened his eyes. He should have thought of that. Someone else should have thought of that. Next time—

Hawthorne swallowed. There would be no next time with these habitats. He stared at the vidscreen, at the lasers pouring from the many habitats and at the nearly impregnable Doom Star. He had ordered this. He would watch the grim consequences and remember. He deserved nightmares in his sleep for the rest of his life. Why did he feel so dreadfully alone?

-11-

For a brief time, the orbiting farm habitats poured laser fire into the Hannibal Barca’s heavy particle shields. Normally, the Doom Star would never have gotten close enough to have any laser hit so hard, but the habs had the element of surprise on their side. The Hannibal Barca was close indeed. Those lasers were hot and on target.

More than the massive merculite launch, more than the six proton beams, even more than the gigantic Orion ships, the heavy lasers on the farm habitats took the Highborn by surprise.

Grand Admiral Cassius roared for more speed. He sat in his command chair aboard the Julius Caesar at Lunar orbit. The clever premen had timed their attack well. Luna was presently on the opposite side of the Earth as compared to the launching Orion ships. Many of the farm habitats also used the Earth as a shield against the Julius Caesar’s lasers.

“Faster!” Cassius shouted.

Highborn could take greater G-forces than premen could, about twice as many before blacking out. The Doom Star already accelerated at six gravities. The super-ship surged through far-orbital space, moving to gain a clear line-of-fire.

“Sir, it is Commander Scipio.”

Cassius could see the holoimage of Scipio before him, a Highborn with a jutting nose.

“Destroy the farm habitats!” Cassius shouted. “Above all, keep your Doom Star intact and unharmed.”

The holoimage nodded curtly before fading out.

Cassius studied the other hologram image before him. It showed the massive Orion ships. Most of them had made it off Earth and into space. They headed for Mars. First, he would save the Hannibal Barca. Then the premen would see what long-range heavy lasers could do to the fleet heading for the Red Planet.

* * *

Three days after the battle, Grand Admiral Cassius hardened himself to demote Commander Scipio of the Hannibal Barca. It was a painful decision, as Scipio was one of his most ardent supporters. This humiliation might well cause Scipio to commit suicide.

Cassius piloted a shuttle to the Doom Star, using the quiet of the ship to think.

Scipio had targeted the Orion ships for too long before engaging the farm habitats. The Hannibal Barca had taken more damage than the Genghis Khan had on 10 May 2350. Better that Scipio had let more of the Orion ships survive than allow his ship to be damaged.

Cassius was going to need the Hannibal Barca soon and thus he could not send it to the Sun-Works Factory for repair. They would have to repair it here in the little time left them.

After a brief glance at the Earth above, Cassius studied reports. Long-range laser fire had destroyed forty-five percent of the Orion ships and the spaceships they carried. The surviving boosters spread prismatic crystals, shielding the SU spaceships headed for Mars from the long-range lasers of the two Doom Stars.

Fifty-five percent of the Earth Fleet had survived.

Cassius shook his head. The premen had fought harder than he had expected. Because of that, he was going to lose his good friend, Scipio. The Praetor’s people would expect him to give the Praetor the open command slot.

Cassius crackled his knuckles and began to make plans.

-12-

The former Praetor of the Sun-Works Factory walked with a lesser Highborn, a Lot 6 creature. The Praetor believed it was his dire luck to find himself forever saddled with inferior Highborn.

The two of them strode through a utilitarian steel corridor on a combat training station in near-Lunar orbit. The station was torus-shaped and rotated to simulate one hundred and thirty percent Earth gravity. The extra thirty percent helped to harden the training soldiers.

The Praetor towered over the Lot Sixer, an earlier subset from the vats and many years his senior in age. The Praetor possessed broader shoulders, a deeper chest and a more sharply angled face. They both had short cut, thick hair reminiscent of panther’s pelts. The Praetor’s eyes were pink, intense and perhaps possessed more than the usual Highborn ferocity. Each officer had abnormal vitality, at least when compared to sluggish Homo sapiens.

The Praetor’s hands were massive and strong. He clutched an ivory baton, a symbol of the successful destruction of the experimental Beamship Bangladesh. No other SU warship had so impressed the Highborn with its deadliness.

The Lot Sixer wore the green uniform of an infantry specialist and he had pitted features. He’d earned those scars in South America, destroying his twentieth bio-tank. He was the Praetor’s new training master of the subhumans. The last one had died after the failed neutraloid ‘accident’ concerning the Grand Admiral.

Grand Admiral Cassius had no doubt secretly engineered the foisting of yet another Lot 6 upon him. The Grand Admiral was First. He, the Praetor, was Fourth in the strictly graded hierarchy. The Grand Admiral was wise to fear him, wise to try to sabotage him with inferior officer material.

“I’ve read Training Master Lycon’s paper concerning shock troopers,” the Lot Sixer was saying. “He has many credible points.”

The Praetor stopped and stared down at the Lot Sixer. “Training Master Lycon has fled Highborn service. He is a traitor.”

“Perhaps he was killed and the premen—”

“Do not strain logic, Training Master. Do you seriously suggest that half a dozen shock troopers could overpower a Highborn?”

“I’ve read his reports. Lycon trained them to a razor’s edge of premen lethality.”

“That begs the question. Could half a dozen premen defeat you?”

“If I was unarmed and they possessed high technology, it would certainly be possible.”

“Let me rephrase the question. If you possessed a shuttle and picked them up and then they overpowered you, would that be possible?”

“I stand corrected, Praetor.”

The Praetor nodded and began striding down the corridor. The new Training Master hurried to catch up.

“Lycon’s shock troopers did capture the Bangladesh,” the new Training Master said.

“All the shock troopers are dead or converted.”

“Praetor?”