Authors: Taylor Anderson
Firestorm (43 page)
“And the Eleventh?”
“The Eleventh will provide air support at Cork. They should be able to coordinate with the naval forces offshore, either by wireless or signal flags.”
“Okay,” Orrin said. “Sounds straightforward enough.” He chuckled. “Way simpler than some of the wild-goose chases FEAF sent us on in the Philippines! Which squadron do
I
take?”
I
take?”
“None.”
“Now wait a sec . . . !”
“Lieutenant Reddy,” Lelaa began severely, “like it or not, you’re something of an important person, through no fault or act of your own. You’re kin to our supreme military commander. Besides that, you’re acting COFO of the Fourth Naval Air Wing, not just another pursuit pilot! In those roles, some responsibility is inherent. You must instruct our fliers what to do, depending on what they find at their objectives. To retain a ‘big picture’ view, you must remain in wireless contact—with a scroll before you—not romping off on your own, an individual combat pilot!” Lelaa paused, deciding to toss the suddenly crestfallen young man a bone. “Besides, if needed, you’ll lead the reserve flights.”
“Yes, ma’am, uh, Captain Lelaa,” he replied.
“What do you need of me?” Shinya asked. He’d been studying the chart with one ear tuned to the conversation around him.
“Your force may be needed to retrieve this situation. Where should you land where you can best support Major Chack, while contributing to the completion of the overall mission of liberating New Ireland?”
“What a load of crap,” Orrin said as he, Silva, and Lawrence trotted down the companionway from the comm shack where he’d just determined that New Glasgow at least
thought
it had everything they needed. He gestured at a “Nancy” perched on its launch truck. “Flying those things is a cinch . . . and what’s this crud about being ‘important’?”
thought
it had everything they needed. He gestured at a “Nancy” perched on its launch truck. “Flying those things is a cinch . . . and what’s this crud about being ‘important’?”
“Maybe it
is
a cinch; I wouldn’t know. Scared ta death o’ flyin’ myself. But why do you want to? To fight, or just zoot around? Can’t have gen’rals leadin’ cavalry charges,” Silva clucked. “An’ you
have
wormed your way to the top of the flyboy heap.” He stopped and shook his head. “That Cap’n Lelaa’s got brains. She knows what she’s doin’. You do as she says; go brief your ‘Nancy’ boys—an’ don’t treat it like a chore.” Siva’s scarred face turned uncharacteristically serious. “I know you’re still new here, but these little guys, these ’Cats, are good people, an’ they’re in this fight in a big way.” He shrugged. “You had a rough war. We all did. An’ maybe this ain’t
your
war yet, the way it is for me an’ hisself, your cousin.” He held out his big hands. “I ain’t gonna wave no bloody shirt er nothin, an’ I know how tough it is to go from hatin’ Japs to gettin’ along with Colonel Shinya.” He snorted. “An’ maybe I still have trouble now an’ then thinkin’ of him as a
good
guy—but I trust him, an’ if you’ll take anything from me, take this: he is a ‘
right’
guy.”
is
a cinch; I wouldn’t know. Scared ta death o’ flyin’ myself. But why do you want to? To fight, or just zoot around? Can’t have gen’rals leadin’ cavalry charges,” Silva clucked. “An’ you
have
wormed your way to the top of the flyboy heap.” He stopped and shook his head. “That Cap’n Lelaa’s got brains. She knows what she’s doin’. You do as she says; go brief your ‘Nancy’ boys—an’ don’t treat it like a chore.” Siva’s scarred face turned uncharacteristically serious. “I know you’re still new here, but these little guys, these ’Cats, are good people, an’ they’re in this fight in a big way.” He shrugged. “You had a rough war. We all did. An’ maybe this ain’t
your
war yet, the way it is for me an’ hisself, your cousin.” He held out his big hands. “I ain’t gonna wave no bloody shirt er nothin, an’ I know how tough it is to go from hatin’ Japs to gettin’ along with Colonel Shinya.” He snorted. “An’ maybe I still have trouble now an’ then thinkin’ of him as a
good
guy—but I trust him, an’ if you’ll take anything from me, take this: he is a ‘
right’
guy.”
He waved his hands. “’Nuff o’ that. As you know, there’s still plenty o’ bad Japs, but your pilots—an’ they
are
yours, like it or not—know you zapped a couple of ’em that were flyin’ shit as far beyond a ‘Nancy’ as
Amagi
was beyond my ol’
Walker
. That’s big joss to them. Hell, it’s a big deal to
me
after seein’ you Army guys get whupped on by them Zee-ros over Cavite. The point is, the little guys look up to you, an’ they’re fixin’ to fly off an’ risk their stripey asses on your word, with the stuff you told ’em rattlin’ around in their furry little heads. So, if you’re with ’em or not, you’re their leader, an’ just like them, you gotta follow orders.” He grinned. “That’s one of the problems with bein’ a officer. Extra pressure to do the ‘right thing’!”
are
yours, like it or not—know you zapped a couple of ’em that were flyin’ shit as far beyond a ‘Nancy’ as
Amagi
was beyond my ol’
Walker
. That’s big joss to them. Hell, it’s a big deal to
me
after seein’ you Army guys get whupped on by them Zee-ros over Cavite. The point is, the little guys look up to you, an’ they’re fixin’ to fly off an’ risk their stripey asses on your word, with the stuff you told ’em rattlin’ around in their furry little heads. So, if you’re with ’em or not, you’re their leader, an’ just like them, you gotta follow orders.” He grinned. “That’s one of the problems with bein’ a officer. Extra pressure to do the ‘right thing’!”
Silva studied the contemplative, introspective expression on Orrin’s face, then burped. “Besides, it’s my experience that the best laid plans o’’Cats an’ men still foul their screws all to hell, ’specially on this goofy world. I bet you’ll be flyin’ before this is done.”
Sperrin Mountains New IrelandMajor Chack-Sab-At worked his way down the shallow black rock trench on a secondary ridge overlooking the sprawling city of New Dublin. From what he saw, the city was about as big as Scapa Flow and the architecture was similarly alien to him: squat, blocky buildings with tile roofs and little color. Nearly everything was white and nothing stood on piers, as he was accustomed to seeing in Baalkpan. There were really big buildings along the harbor front, warehouses probably, and the Company headquarters in the center of the city looked like the Government House mansion of Gerald McDonald with its multiple stories and classical columns. Beyond, lay the harbor with its forest of masts and formidable defenses. Out at sea,
Salaama-Na
still held station, dwarfing countless Imperial warships and transports, fuzzy with the haze of the day and the occasional drifting cloud of gun smoke.
Salaama-Na
still held station, dwarfing countless Imperial warships and transports, fuzzy with the haze of the day and the occasional drifting cloud of gun smoke.
Chack’s was a lousy position with a very exposed avenue of support and retreat, leading upslope to the grassy, craggy peaks behind. He’d chosen it because it
was
such a crummy spot, hoping to lure the Doms into coming up after him. An impressive force, perhaps three or four thousand men, had assembled on the flanks of the mountains below, but didn’t seem inclined to do anything other than lob the occasional roundshot or volley of musketry. Suspecting that meant they were aware how close the force out of Bray was getting to Waterford, he realized he’d soon have to retire or risk being cut off and surrounded. No question about it, he wasn’t facing Grik. This enemy was perfectly able to make detailed plans of their own—particularly when, as it seemed, they had advance knowledge of the one Chack and Blair had devised.
was
such a crummy spot, hoping to lure the Doms into coming up after him. An impressive force, perhaps three or four thousand men, had assembled on the flanks of the mountains below, but didn’t seem inclined to do anything other than lob the occasional roundshot or volley of musketry. Suspecting that meant they were aware how close the force out of Bray was getting to Waterford, he realized he’d soon have to retire or risk being cut off and surrounded. No question about it, he wasn’t facing Grik. This enemy was perfectly able to make detailed plans of their own—particularly when, as it seemed, they had advance knowledge of the one Chack and Blair had devised.
So, Plan A was in the crapper, obviously, but that didn’t bother Chack too much. Something
always
went wrong, and he was preparing—he hoped—to do what the enemy least expected under the circumstances. As usual, his Plan B was risky; actually
more
so than usual, but that just made it even more unexpected . . . didn’t it? The only real problem, besides the added danger, was that he had no direct communications with anybody other than a lengthy semaphore chain back to Waterford, over the Wiklow Mountains to Cork, and from there to the fleet offshore. Hopefully, Plan B had been transmitted to Sor-Lomaak by now, because he needed it to kick-start certain elements of Plan A all over again if he was going to have any support. If it hadn’t, his only other option was to make such a ruckus that Sor-Lomaak would recognize the signal—and the opportunity—when it came.
always
went wrong, and he was preparing—he hoped—to do what the enemy least expected under the circumstances. As usual, his Plan B was risky; actually
more
so than usual, but that just made it even more unexpected . . . didn’t it? The only real problem, besides the added danger, was that he had no direct communications with anybody other than a lengthy semaphore chain back to Waterford, over the Wiklow Mountains to Cork, and from there to the fleet offshore. Hopefully, Plan B had been transmitted to Sor-Lomaak by now, because he needed it to kick-start certain elements of Plan A all over again if he was going to have any support. If it hadn’t, his only other option was to make such a ruckus that Sor-Lomaak would recognize the signal—and the opportunity—when it came.
A heavy roundshot struck the slope below the trench, showering the inhabitants with sharp, gravelly pumice and fine black dust. He spat dark mucus that had accumulated after hours of similar treatment. “Stay cool, Marines!” he cried. “They might hit us with shot rolling back down from above, but we’ll just throw it back at them!” Tired cheers answered.
It’s easy to stay cool,
he thought.
It’s actually
cold
up here near the top of the range
.
And the troops have a right to be weary,
he reflected. They’d faced tough, unexpected opposition taking the heights. There shouldn’t have been any Doms in the mountains at all, but that was what they’d encountered. No militia, no rebel troops, but Dom regulars!
Professionals,
he admitted grudgingly. That was when he first suspected a trap. It was reasonable to assume they’d gotten word of the Battle at Waterford back over the mountains, and some response was understandable, but they shouldn’t have had the sheer numbers they’d responded with, both here and elsewhere. There could be only one explanation: there’d been more Doms on New Ireland than they ever knew; they’d been there longer than anyone considered possible, and the Imperial invasion had been expected.
It’s easy to stay cool,
he thought.
It’s actually
cold
up here near the top of the range
.
And the troops have a right to be weary,
he reflected. They’d faced tough, unexpected opposition taking the heights. There shouldn’t have been any Doms in the mountains at all, but that was what they’d encountered. No militia, no rebel troops, but Dom regulars!
Professionals,
he admitted grudgingly. That was when he first suspected a trap. It was reasonable to assume they’d gotten word of the Battle at Waterford back over the mountains, and some response was understandable, but they shouldn’t have had the sheer numbers they’d responded with, both here and elsewhere. There could be only one explanation: there’d been more Doms on New Ireland than they ever knew; they’d been there longer than anyone considered possible, and the Imperial invasion had been expected.
Further treachery was the answer, but by whom? He blinked dismissively. It didn’t matter at the moment. He’d been victim of treachery many times now, and humans held no monopoly on the practice. He looked forward to helping sort it out later—if he lived.
“Lieutenant Blas,” he said, nearing her position in the trench.
“Major.”
Chack looked at the sky. The sun was still visible over the mountains that trailed into the northwest. “Where is that Sky Priest, the lieutenant from
Mertz
?”
Mertz
?”
“Dead, Major, back at the town.”
Chack sighed. “Are there any of Sister Audry’s converts in the ranks?”
Blas blinked confusion. “Not that I know of. Strange buggers, them. Always either at you about your soul . . . or they don’t make a peep.” She considered. “Seen some Marines doing that funny thing with their hands. . . .”
“No matter. Where is Major Jindal?”
Blas motioned a little farther down the trenchline to their left. “That way, sir. Came by here just a few minutes ago.”
“Thanks,” Chack said, and moved on. Blas shrugged and followed him. She still considered it her job to watch over him—just as he’d once taken such good care of her.
“Major Jindal,” Chack said, finally catching the Imperial, “any questions?”
Jindal paused uncertainly. “None, sir,” he finally cly answered.
“Good. I . . . know it will be dangerous and the risk is high, but I see no alternative.”
“Nor do I, except failure,” Jindal agreed.
“We will not fail,” Chack said, blinking certainty, “but given our situation, it’s customary among many of my people, Lemurians—MiAnaaka—to perform a . . . prayer ritual, and to some, Aryaalans and B’mbaadans most notably, it’s important that the sun be visible at that time.” He looked at Jindal. “Your people use prayer as well, do they not?”
“We do, but our chaplain is upslope with Major Blair.”
“Our priest is dead,” Chack said, “so I will lead our prayer. It’s a communal thing—I have never led before, but it’s brief and I know it well. I just wanted to make sure you had no objection before I begin.”
“Ah . . . no, I suppose not, as long as it’s not terribly . . . unusual or . . . frightening.”
Chack laughed. “It will not
scare
your men, I assure you, Major. I doubt those still with us are capable of fear.”
scare
your men, I assure you, Major. I doubt those still with us are capable of fear.”
Jindal chuckled. “I hate to disillusion you, Major, but I remain terrified!”
Chack grinned back and patted the man on the shoulder. He was near the center of the line and decided this was as good a place as any. He stood atop the gravelly heap thrown up in front of the trench within full view of all the troops lining the lower ridge, not to mention the enemy below. He faced the sun and spread his arms wide.
“Maker of all things!” he roared in that special tone peculiar to his people that let their voices carry a great distance. A few musket balls began kicking up small dark clouds around him, but they were well beyond the effective range of small arms. Even if one struck him, it would hurt a lot, but probably wouldn’t do him serious harm. Roundshot was another matter, but it would take the enemy time to aim their pieces, and still the chance of a deliberate hit was remote.
Jindal was surprised to see a large number—most—of the Lemurians stand to join him, facing the west.
“I beg your protection,” Chack continued, “for myself and my people . . . and these brave humans who fight beside us. But if it is our time, please light our spirit’s paths to their Homes in the Heavens!”
That was it. Crossing his arms over his chest, Chack knelt in the gravel, bowing his head, and all the Lemurians who’d joined him did the same. Finished, they then slid back into the trench.
“That’s all?” Jindal asked.
Chack nodded. “Yep. Would you like to lead your own men in prayer?” He huffed. “It might stir the enemy into an even greater frenzy, given their antagonism toward any faith but theirs, but their marksmanship is quite poor.”
“Nooo,” Jindal said reflectively. “I think your service was surprisingly appropriate for everyone. Some may wish to add words of their own, but that’s customarily done in private, regardless.”
Far behind them, beyond the pass they’d used to cross the mountains, artillery boomed and stuttered with a trembling thunder.
“Well,” Chack said, “if Waaterford had fallen, we would have heard. Evidently, the enemy probes the pass with a flanking move. I think that’s our signal to ‘react’ to him! Your bugles will carry better in this wind, and the enemy betweus and the city will better recognize them anyway. Please pass the word to sound ‘retreat’!”
The battered regiments on the ridge began to withdraw, back up the steep incline. Happy cheering rose from the plain below, as did roundshot and volleys of musket fire. Balls pattered around the men and ’Cats, and there were screams when a cannonball gouged through a group of Imperial Marines and bounded upslope.
“Keep movin’, by Jasus!” bellowed a sergeant, “but by His holy name, I’ll eat yer livers if I ever see ye run like this wi’out orders!”
“Halt beyond the crest!” came another shout. “Remember your orders! Re-form behind Major Blair’s division!”
The sun was dropping quickly now; soon it would vanish beyond the mountains and darkness would descend. Chack hoped the sight of their enemy fleeing and the ensuing night would leave the Doms unprepared for what happened next. He himself was taken completely by surprise by what
did
happen then. He’d paused for a moment, trying to see the enemy in the gathering gloom, to gauge his reaction, when he caught a glimpse of a fleeting shape, then another, swoop past his field of view. Enough sunlight peeked between two distant crags for him to see a distinctive, light blue object pull up beyond the plain and silhouette itself against the still-bright sea. It was a “Nancy”! And then there was another, and another! Roiling pillars of fire erupted from the Dom position, and the cheers of a moment before turned to hideous screams that echoed against the mountains despite the wind and staccato detonations.
did
happen then. He’d paused for a moment, trying to see the enemy in the gathering gloom, to gauge his reaction, when he caught a glimpse of a fleeting shape, then another, swoop past his field of view. Enough sunlight peeked between two distant crags for him to see a distinctive, light blue object pull up beyond the plain and silhouette itself against the still-bright sea. It was a “Nancy”! And then there was another, and another! Roiling pillars of fire erupted from the Dom position, and the cheers of a moment before turned to hideous screams that echoed against the mountains despite the wind and staccato detonations.
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