The Alexanderov Federation
Book 1 The Grendarl War
Part Seventeen - The Battle for Rrk'g'kreg
"Stockert to 51 and 71. Move into position
and take out the Silicoid sensor platforms in orbit. You will
have three minutes before their missile bases can fire again,
pour it on."
Goodman smiled. Good, he didn't forget, after all, he thought.
If we can destroy their sensor platforms before the next salvo,
we can adjust our position and if they fire they'll just fire
off into space.
P'daR'T'S was not happy. In another two minutes he would
have another salvo from the planetary missile bases ready,
but he no longer had any IF orbitals or any ships capable
of firing missiles.
"Sir! Some of the enemy ships are moving again! They
are moving to positions slightly off axis from their main
fleet and approaching us somewhat, but they are staying out
of PD range," his sensor officer reported.
"What type of ships?"
"It appears they are their heavy beam light-cruisers."
"Prepare to fire as soon as possible. Next missile salvo
targeted on those ships."
Ninety seconds passed as task forces 51 and 71 hustled to
get into position. Their commodore chose to split into two
groups. Task Force 71 would take out the sensor platform that
at its current orbital position was closest to the core, and
which was soon about to pass behind the planet. Task Force
51 would take out the one closest to them, and with their
much greater numbers would then turn and take out the outward
platform that was just moving out from behind the planet and
"FIRE!" he exclaimed as the last ships reached
the correct position fifteen seconds later. Immediately all
ships opened up and within ten seconds the closest platform
was little more than space dust, and the coreward platform
was heavily damaged. Task Force 51's guns fell silent as they
re-targeted on the second platform, wasting only a second.
They began firing again just before the coreward platform
finally was completely destroyed, and within 5 seconds began
to do some serious damage. But they were still too late.
Turley didn't even bother with protocol. "Incoming!
Targeted on TFs 51 and 71!"
"Goodman to 57.1 and fighters, move to cover 51 and
take out those missiles! 77.1, switch to a wall formation
and cover 71!"
Though only 4,000 missiles were launched this time, the extra
five seconds it took the PD ships to get into firing range
meant they had only three quarters of the time to fire on
the incoming missiles. 77.1, containing the Psilon PD ships
and the newer Human PD destroyers, was still able to handle
the incoming fire, though a few ships took minor splash damage.
57.1, however, despite the help of the fighters still lost
over a hundred ships, and 75 of the beam light cruisers were
destroyed as well. But the goal was accomplished. The Grendarl
were now blind.
"Sir, 55 and 75 are adjusting position. It appears pretty
random, must be trying to make sure the Grendarl couldn't
guess where they've gone," Turley reported.
"Goodman to 57.1 and 77.1 Fire the next salvo immediately.
Without the Silicoid sensor platforms, they should not be
able to target your missiles. Then move to flanking positions
by 51 and 71, respectively."
Again a chatter of acknowledgments came back, followed shortly
by the launching of two thousand missiles, which quickly MIRV-ed
out into eight thousand, more than enough to wipe out the
remaining 6,000 Grendarl fighters. And since they were a bit
closer now, it was only 12 seconds to impact from the time
of launch. Goodman watched as the missiles drew closer and
closer to the Grendarl. Though scrambling around like ants
who'd just had their anthill knocked over, none of the fighters
were yet moving forward to engage the Humans. And nobody reacted
to the incoming missiles until they started exploding among
the fighter groups. With less than a second from the first
explosion to the last, none had time to react. Every Grendarl
fighter was destroyed, and the carrier frigates were pretty
badly mauled by the remaining missiles, destroying over 1,500,
more than a quarter of their original count.
"Goodman to Stockert." No response.
"Admiral Stockert, come in please!"
The channel was silent.
k'Nf'S'i'S let his assistants supervise the loading of the
ships. Food and supplies had been loaded during construction,
they just had to ferry the crews aboard. Anybody with half
a brain could handle that job. He had a more important one.
"Then it is decided?" he asked the viewscreen in
front of him. The creature on the screen was not particularly
aesthetically pleasing to his eyes, but they too disliked
the humans. They would help him. They must agree to help him.
"It is agreed."
"Thank you, Lord S'tar." He bowed as gracefully
as one of his bulk could. The screen blinked off. Only then
did he allow his skin color to change to show his emotions.
Yes! Our revenge is now assured!
"Admiral! Respond, PLEASE!" Goodman practically
shouted. Finally, a response came in.
"It's my fault." The voice was shockingly hollow,
as if the owner of the voice had been drained of all life.
It was barely recognizable, with extreme effort, as belonging
to Admiral Stockert.
"What do you mean, sir? We're winning!"
"All those ships destroyed. My fault. I miscalculated
how long they'd have between planetary missile salvos. My
fault they are dead."
"OK, sir, yes that's unfortunate, but they knew the
risks going into this fight. If they weren't willing to give
their lives for our cause they would not be here. You made
a mistake. Fine. It's done, now SNAP OUT OF IT! We will grieve
for the dead later. We still need your guidance to finish
"No, you don't. You came up with the strategy that got
us this far. It's your fight to finish."
The only response was the sound of a fusion hand weapon firing.
P'daR'T'S knew he was doomed if he couldn't pull a miracle
out of his tail spines. He could no longer see the enemy to
fire at them, and firing blindly into space was not going
to accomplish anything. "Have they found it yet?"
"Aye sir. They say they can launch it in about half
"In half an hour we'll all be dead. Tell them they have