Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [18]
Stromo agreed. “Take every precaution to make sure none of our soldiers are harmed in the line of duty.” He didn’t want to have to explain casualties to General Lanyan. “Oh, and the Chairman has asked that we minimize Roamer casualties as well.”
“Certainly, Admiral.” He got the impression that she considered him stupid for making such an obvious statement.
Docking clamps anchored the lead Manta against the asteroid. A tunnel passage sealed polymer lips around the hatch, which a demolitions crew then blasted open. A vanguard of suited troops proceeded cautiously into the asteroid, holding stun-pulse rifles ready for an ambush. Behind them, the second and third wave of EDF soldiers waited, anxious to flood into the Roamer nest.
Smaller consolidation teams had seized and occupied the outlying stations, metal-walled storage depots, domes filled with hardy and exotic crops. The severed solar mirrorfilm drifted until it finally draped like a reflective shroud over a tiny asteroid.
Overhead, battle-ready Remoras cruised in careful circles through the rubble field. Because of the ruptured containment dome, the main asteroid was unstable, wobbling and precessing. The EDF pilots practiced taking potshots at anything that moved, rousting out clan ships that attempted to hide in the shadows of orbiting rocks.
A small vessel lunged away from the greenhouse asteroid like a rabbit bolting out of hiding. The pilot dodged and changed course repeatedly, making up his trajectory as he went.
Stromo sat upright in his command chair. “Stop that ship from escaping!” he bellowed over the general comm.
Six patrol Remoras spotted the fleeing craft and set off in pursuit. From just the glimpse on his external screens, Stromo thought it was a butt-ugly ship, a collection of mismatched parts cobbled together. But the fleeing craft actually sparkled as it flew, and its sprint engines took it on high-G-force loops that even fast EDF fighters couldn’t match.
Stromo adjusted the flagship’s sensors to follow the escaping spacecraft as it shot about like a pinball, ricocheting through the asteroid field, partly to avoid collisions, but probably just to get away. The pilot took ridiculous risks and flew maneuvers unthinkable to Stromo. Before long, the ugly craft left the EDF’s best Remoras far behind. It was embarrassing.
“Break off pursuit,” Stromo said. “I’ve decided to let at least one Roacher ship get away to spread the word of another crushing defeat. They’ve got to change their minds sooner or later.” The words sounded false as he spoke them, but he raised his voice to inspire confidence.
He watched the displayed suitcam images as Ramirez led her troops through tunnels and into the domed enclosures. He could toggle from one recording lens to another in order to get as many views as he wanted. It was the next best thing to actually going out and doing the operation in person.
The people inside the domes put up little resistance. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and—thankfully—smart enough to realize it.
Stromo estimated they would take a few hundred prisoners. How could so many of them crawl around in these rocks? En route to Hhrenni, while planning the details of this mission, he had given instructions for two Mantas in the assault force to reconfigure their decks. Low-ranking soldiers’ quarters were turned into holding pens, not secure enough to be prisons, but sufficient to hold the captives until they could be delivered to the Klikiss planet along with the detainees from Hurricane Depot and Rendezvous.
Finally, Ramirez announced, “Admiral Stromo, this asteroid is secure. We’re ready to receive you over here.”
He stood up and straightened his uniform. “Do I require a suit?”
“No need, sir. Plenty of atmosphere in here, though it’s a bit chilly.”
Once he made his way inside, he wished he had brought an oxygen mask after all, just to cover the stink. The asteroid air was redolent of metal and dust reprocessed with fertilizer chemicals. It smelled like a latrine. Did these Roamers actually use human feces to fertilize their plants?