Metal Swarm - Kevin J. Anderson [180]
‘Piece of cake. We didn't expect you to find them in deep water that fast.'
‘I didn't expect to be doing any of this, but it seems we have to roll with it.'
‘Admiral,' Allahu interrupted, ‘how will you get the Hansa to pay us for what they could just take?'
‘They put me in charge of Rhejak and told me to secure your cooperation. It's my decision. What choice does the Hansa have?'
One hundred and ten
General Kurt Lanyan
Bucolic Usk was as pleasant, peaceful, and vulnerable as the Chairman had suggested. Thus, General Lanyan felt it his duty to be as ruthless as possible. No warnings, no mercy, just results. The scheduled pogrom would serve as a great motivator for smaller, weaker colonies to fall into line. Lanyan had to make this look as bad as possible. That meant it would be as bad as possible.
He was sure he'd have nightmares about it for a long time. Though he had not objected, the General didn't like the mission one bit. Chairman Wenceslas was going ridiculously overboard, but this was the lesser of two evils, allowing Lanyan to recover his honour and whatever clout he had lost. Besides, this was preferable to going head-to-head against the Klikiss again.
As the Jupiter loomed over the defenceless colony world, the Archfather stood on the bridge, looking at the images on the screen. He was a man of few words, generally reluctant to speak unless his phrases had been carefully scripted, Lanyan had seen his note cards and tip sheets. The people of Usk have already transgressed beyond forgiveness. Their only redeeming purpose is to serve as an example.‘ He smiled behind his great white beard. 'And they can serve very well in that capacity.‘
Hundreds of troop transports roared down, crammed with soldiers. Remora squadrons flew above the dispersed settlements, ready with cargo-loads of thermal bombs and concussion explosives. They circled the homesteads, peppering the sky with sonic booms. Troops dropped into the small trading villages, the peach and almond orchards, the potato fields.
At a more leisurely pace, Lanyan and the Archfather descended in a diplomatic shuttle while soldiers rounded up the colonists at a central gathering point. Tight-lipped, the General monitored the progress. He transmitted orders to all of the troops. ‘Whatever you do, don't hurt the green priest. This colony must have one. The Chairman wants to make sure the message gets out to all breakaway worlds.'
Remoras strafed the fields, grain silos, and barns with thermal bombs. Fires spread quickly across the dry alfalfa meadows. Panicked livestock stampeded, and the soldiers had to mow down the animals to keep themselves from being trampled. People hid in root cellars or hay lofts. Soldiers used twitchers on anyone who looked as if he might resist. When capturing the colonists one by one proved too difficult, the soldiers simply stunned them all, dragged them aboard ships, and dumped the limp bodies unceremoniously in the main village.
Demolitions crews set fire to farmhouses, refusing to let the weeping people retrieve their possessions. They launched explosive grenades and blew up fence lines made of piled stones. Sharpshooters immolated entire orchards with laser cutting beams. The air was thick with smoke.
A nearly naked female green priest was dragged into the open square. She sobbed to see all the destruction. ‘Why? Why?' seemed to be the only words she could say.
‘Let her keep her treeling,' Lanyan said. He stood in the town watching, deaf to the shouted accusations, pleas, anguished screams. All the chaos and mayhem was being carefully recorded for the Hansa's later use.
The Archfather boomed out his pronouncement in the centre of the farming town. Each sentence fell like a sharp axe. ‘Unison condemns the people of Usk! Radicals like you are a rot within our society. By turning against Earth, by following your pride, you brought down a curse upon our entire race. You demonstrated