The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [13]
These Roamer ships reacted as the beetles had. Instead of mounting an orderly defense, the mismatched clan ships flew in all directions, every man for himself. The General found it pathetic. He gave his anxious weapons officers permission to take as many potshots as they liked.
On the crowded screen, he identified the spidery cargo escorts holding canisters of ekti. He pointed his index finger, raising his voice. “There! Those are the ships I was telling you about. Remember my orders.”
His weapons officers fired at the evacuating cargo escorts, aiming carefully and missing intentionally. The barrage, however, was merely a diversion so that tiny pingers could attach to the hulls without the Roamer pilots noticing. The locator beacons would activate later so that Lanyan could track the cargo escorts to other fuel-distribution depots. If the EDF made a diligent effort, they could unravel the whole Roamer network and find all of their hidden facilities.
As the raid commenced, Lanyan ignored the outraged cries and threatening comm messages from the skymine managers. “Prepare to be boarded,” he transmitted to the largest facility. “With your unconditional surrender, we can eliminate — or at least minimize — casualties.”
A gruff voice yelled back at him, “This is Del Kellum, and I’m in charge of this skymine. I do not — repeat, do not — grant you permission to land.”
Lanyan chuckled. “Exactly how are you going to stop me? With harsh language and a disapproving look?” He switched off the transmission, stood up, and stretched.
An hour later, from a troop transport filled with heavily armed EDF soldiers, Lanyan looked out at the enormous floating city with its many decks and docks, its antennae, sensor probes, and observation balconies. The Goliath hung nearby, huge and ominous in the sky. Admiral Brindle had already reported a swift victory at his assigned skymine, as had the other EDF Mantas. Chairman Wenceslas was going to be pleased when he heard how much stardrive fuel this operation would yield.
Before disembarking, the General checked his uniform, quickly combed his dark hair, and surveyed the guards ready to exit the transport with him. Lanyan thought of the successful commanders he had learned about in military school, their proud victory speeches on conquered ground. He wanted to make a memorable impression here when he set foot on the beaten skymine and showed everyone that he was not to be trifled with.
The hatch opened, and he stepped proudly down the ramp. “I hereby take control of this new facility in the name of the Hansa.”
A group of agitated Roamers waited for him. He recognized bearded Del Kellum, with his barrel chest and his angry expression. Next, he saw a completely unexpected young man, who would have looked more familiar had he been wearing an EDF uniform.
“General Lanyan,” said Patrick Fitzpatrick III, “I see my new opinion of you was absolutely correct.”
* * *
5
Jess Tamblyn
Once, Charybdis had been a primeval ocean world whose turbulent seas hosted countless thriving wentals. And then the faeros had come.
Jess and Cesca had not been here when angry fireballs had rained down to blast the elemental seas, but now they stood together on the smoking ruin of the planet. The air was laden with heavy sulfurous steam, the cadaverous smell of dead wentals. He drew a deep breath, felt the anger burn through him.
This is war.
“The Roamers can help us,” Cesca said, her voice brittle with fury at the sight of the blackened, glassy landscape that had once been a calm and fertile sea. “We should ask the clans to join our fight.”
Kneeling, Jess put his fingers in a warm, scum-covered puddle. The water felt oily and dead. He shook his head, trying to find an independent reservoir on Charybdis. Something must have survived. “What possible weapons could Roamers devise against them?”
Cesca raised her eyebrows. “Jess Tamblyn, are you really doubting Roamer ingenuity?”
He