Barbarians

Well, I just got back from a break in the fight

I was weighing in heavy but still feeling alright

All I hear in the distance, mines and shells

Here come the sirens wailing, another attack to be repelled

Do you think we're gonna make it?

I don't know unless we try

You could sit here scared to move

Or we could take them by surprise

Dropkick Murphys - “The Gauntlet”

Philippe Granville looked up in surprise as Admiral Ouri Matevosian burst into his office. “Governor...we’ve just received a Priority Alert from one of our Deep Space Array satellites in orbit over Neptune. We’ve spotted dozens of point targets entering the system, on a direct course to Earth.”

The color drained from the Governor-General’s face. “Dear God...another RKKV?”

The Earth Force commander shook his head. “No Sir, we’re not seeing any signs of another planet killer. It appears to be an attack fleet, comprising of warships. We’re still waiting for a breakdown of the ship classes involved, but I can tell you this much...they do not appear to be the same type the Khonhim used in the last war.”

The Governor closed his eyes and nodded. “So, we’re not the only ones who have been building new ships.” He took a moment to steady himself, before looking back up at the Admiral. “How long until they arrive?”

“At current speed...five hours,” Matevosian replied. “We caught them earlier this time. We are redeploying the ships within the system to meet them.”

“...will it be enough?” he asked. “With the loss of Marshal Antuma and Jituttaz, do you have enough to stop them?”

The Admiral met his gaze and shrugged. “I don’t know, Sir,” he answered. “Jituttaz was the only Dreadnaught we had in the system, and as for the Marshal…” He looked worn and haggard. “Kwasi was the best there was, bar none. In my Guild days, I never came close to beating him.”

“You don’t have to,” Phillippe reassured him, “since you’re facing the Khonhim, and not the Black Death,” giving him a wry look as he used the Marshal’s old Guild handle.

“Kwasi always hated that nickname,” Matevosian smiled, “though he wasn’t above using it to rattle his opponents.” The smile died away, as he looked out the window. “He’ll be missed. Especially now.”

“Yes, he will,” the Governor agreed. “But he’s not here...and you are. So I ask again…can you hold?”

Admiral Matevosian snapped to attention. “We’ll hold, Sir. One way or another...we’ll hold the line.”

Granville nodded. “Whatever you need, consider it done.” He took a deep breath, and asked, “Should we evacuate the cities?”

The Admiral shook his head. “Five hours’ notice isn’t enough time. You’d only start a panic, and if the Khonhim break through…” He sighed, “...it wouldn’t make a difference.”

“Understood,” Governor Granville said. “Please keep me apprised of any changes. In the meantime...the public needs to be told.” He was already preparing the speech he’d have to give...and choking on every word.

“Yes Sir,” Matevosian replied, spinning on his heel and retreating the way he’d come, already issuing orders via his comlink.

“...God be with you,” Philippe whispered, praying Earth had one more miracle in its favor.

The fleet that guarded Earth had a ragged appearance. Ships were still scrambling to report in from across the Solar system, the remnants of the task force that had stopped the RKKV mere weeks earlier. They hung in deep space, far from the planet’s gravity well, watching and waiting for the enemy’s arrival.

Admiral Matevosian had made Kestrel his flagship, being the largest surviving vessel available. The carrier had already disgorged its fighters, waiting in formation forward of the fleet. The Starfires would be his eyes and ears, probing the Khonhim armada and looking for weaknesses. The battlecruisers would then exploit any chinks in their armor, but as the enemy drew closer the numbers were not encouraging.

It was likely to be a far closer fight than any sane commander would willingly court if he had a choice...but he had no choice at all. This was Earth, the one planet they could not afford to lose. The Khonhim knew that which was why they were attacking again so soon after the last attempt. No follow up offensives had been necessary at the other colonies, but the one aimed at Man’s homeworld had been stopped cold. The Khonhim were going for the knockout blow, hoping to cripple the humans and opening the doorway to their ancient enemies. It was a huge gamble, considering Hélène Fujimoto’s assault on their own planets, but it was becoming obvious the new Dhyaksh thought it was worth the risk.

Only one way to find out.

Matevosian turned to the tactical officer. “How long until the enemy is within firing range?”

The Lieutenant checked her display. “Approximately...25 minutes, Sir,” she replied.

The Admiral nodded, taking that in. In the last war, he’d been a Lieutenant himself, piloting one of the old Comets alongside their Ophipteran and Ronin allies. The last battle over Zaaronq had been a bloodbath, and to this day he still wasn’t sure how he’d survived. Afterwards, the Navy had undergone a massive expansion program, and he’d been kicked further and further upstairs. He had the rank, but in terms of actual experience? Woefully inadequate. He was hardly alone in that, it was a service-wide problem and would be for decades. You don’t spend a century disassembling your military without a huge loss of institutional knowledge, and on the Triumvirate side, things were even worse. They were learning...except that Final Exams had come before anyone expected.

And graduation in this school meant staying alive...a test far too many of them would fail.

“...Status Change!” the Lieutenant shouted, throwing up her plot onto the main display. “The Khonhim have altered course, now bearing 234 degrees by Mark 027.” The computer plotted the new course, an angry red arrow pointing to their new destination.

“...Mars,” Matevosian whispered.

Apparently, he’d spoken loud enough to be heard. “Yes, Sir,” the Lieutenant confirmed. “Revised ETA has the Khonhim fleet within range of Mars in...12 minutes.”

The Admiral mashed down his com button. “This is Matevosian to the fleet. All ships increase to flank, best possible speed to Mars. Any ship that can’t keep up, gets left behind.” He cursed his own folly, even as he switched channels. The Governor-General’s face soon appeared on his console display.

“We know,” Philippe Granville said, viewing a plot of his own back on Earth. “Can you get there before the Khonhim?”

A question he himself had been asking, while the computer crunched the numbers. The response appeared on his screen, and it was only by sheer force of will he managed not to give out a low whistle at the answer. “It’s gonna be close, Sir,” he said after a moment. “Their trajectory gives them an advantage, it’s why they waited until now to spring their surprise. You should inform your Martian counterpart her people better hunker down.”

“Already done,” Granville confirmed. “Mars has maintained the old shelters from before the Terraforming.” He paused for a moment, as his face turned to stone. “Of course, the population was much lower back then.”

“Yes Sir,” Matevosian said in understanding. What they left unsaid was how little warning it had given the Martians. Their forces were on alert had been ever since the Khonhim entered the system...but given the assumption, the enemy armada was racing for Earth...

“We’ll do our best,” the Admiral said. “Matevosian, clear.” He swiveled back in his chair, watching the plot as the numbers ticked down. The computer was updating its estimate, and now it appeared the Khonhim would enter Mars orbit just as they were within weapons range.

Barely within range, but at that distance a miss came with its own little complication..., hitting the planet with their own weapons. Their own antimatter weapons. He could wait, letting them get close enough to at least ensure any misses wouldn’t endanger the planet, but that would allow the Khonhim to begin their own planetary bombardment. They wouldn’t need much time at all, to ravage Mars.

He wanted to wait...dear God, he wanted to wait. Even a minute could improve their hit probabilities to where he’d be certain their own fire wouldn’t impact the planet surface. But with an enemy fleet in orbit overhead, sixty seconds was an eternity.

Matevosian watched the tactical plot as the range distance showed in red. His finger was already stabbing the com button the instant it changed to yellow.

“All ships…Fire!”