Dawn of Forever, Part XXXV

Main Unity Dawn of Forever

It had taken the Alliance a month to prepare for this day. Fleets and armies were re-assigned from across a hundred thousand light-years to prepare for this final strike against the primary Vong invasion force, the one that had first seized control of this area of space a decade ago. At the moment, five armadas prepared to move in along various vectors around the Vong territory, slice it to pieces, and then kill what was left. It was being coordinated from Cube Prime itself, which was kept a safe distance from the front lines to protect the many non-combatants that were aboard. Some of the commanders, such as General Marnisch, took advantage of the facilities for this purpose, while others like Admiral Cirule preferred to use their command ships. It was all fine with Sebastian, so long as they stuck with the plans and didn't try seizing an opportunity for personal success over the needs of the Alliance.

Sebastian himself was in a sealed room in the heart of Cube Prime. The room was spherical, with the gravity adjusted so that he could walk around its surface like an insect. Images and holograms from all over the fleets and systems were projected, keyed to his implants so that he could see and hear anything he needed to with just a thought. The systems were also set to respond to his voice, so that he could issue commands as quickly as they were needed. When it came to the Borg, things were always swift, but filtering through the humanoid chain of command often took time, so a speedy system had been essential. It had been given a shakedown cruise two months ago when the Alliance eliminated the militant Hirogen raiders, and the improvements made since would hopefully give the Alliance the advantage.

For years, the yammosk had kept the Vong working as if they were one; now it was the Alliance's chance to turn the tables.

"All commands," Sebasian said. "Execute."

The fleets advanced into hyperspace as Sebastian checked his timepiece, then began looking at the long-range scans and probe data. He didn't have to familiarize himself with what was coming next; even if he didn't have an eidetic memory, he'd read through the plan countless times to check for errors. As expected, Fleet Gamma was the first to drop out of hyperspace, near the planet Gidalt. Gidalt was uninhabited and terraformed to produce ships for the Vong. The Vong put a great deal into defending the world to discourage Imperial attack, but they weren't going to matter this time out.

There were dozens of Vong coralships around the world against a hundred star destroyers and as many Borg cubes. Both sides knew the Vong couldn't win, and both sides knew the Vong would still do their best to take as many Alliance ships down with them as possible. That was why instead of engaging the Vong, the star destroyers advanced towards Gidalt itself while the Borg ran cover. These were the old-style cubes, unarmored with weaker weapons, and they didn't stand a chance against the Vong coralships. But they didn't have to beat the Vong, or stop them, just buy the fleet a minute. With a minute, a star destroyer fleet like this could reduce a planet's surface to slag, which is exactly what happened. Two of the star destroyers were lost during the bombardment -one to a suicide run by a coralship- but the rest finished the job and vanished into hyperspace for the next target. The Borg quickly followed; their casualties had been far greater, and most of the ships leaving the battle showed signs of the devastation they'd suffered. Still, they flew and regenerated and prepared for the next engagement, without concern over the loss and damage except in the matter of improving for the next time.

Tinal-Geen was the next planet, reached by Fleet Alpha. It was a heavily populated world and the Vong had strongly reinforced it. This time things were direct; the Borg and Imperials quickly struck the Vong defenders while the Rebel capships hung back; the landing armies were mostly centered there to help preserve them, given the strength of the coralships. It proved prudent; the Vong weren't pulling punches and they hadn't skimped on planetary defenses either, given the probe data Sebastian had seen. However, their numbers still weren't sufficient to hold back the Alliance, and soon the Rebel capships were advancing to drop the transports and covering fighters to take the battle to the planet themselves.

"There's a problem with the sensors over the capital," Marnisch commented as he looked over the information coming in from his troops on the transports.

Sebastian examined the garbled data and nodded. He'd expected they might try this. "They're jamming us all right."

"I was not told they possessed such an ability," Marnisch said curtly.

"They don't," Sebastian said. "They're using our technology."

"I thought the Vong despise our technology? That it was blasphemous?"

"The Klingons talk of honor in battle, yet have cloaking devices," Sebastian said. "Why?"

Marnisch nodded slowly, a knowing look on his face. "Because nothing washes away dishonor as well as victory. We'll have to go in blind."

"Yes, but we can probably take out the jamming suite without trouble. The Vong will only give it a token defense... even though they need it, they still hate it. And they'll have left it in place; they neither understand nor trust it well enough to try to set it up elsewhere. The data on the city's layout should hold true at least on that score."

"If not, we'll be diverting our forces on a pointless errand," Marnisch pointed out.

"I know the Vong playbook," Sebastian said. "Trust me on this one."

Marnisch activated the commlink. "Captain Korris, have your men identify and eliminate the building housing the jamming suite, per your map."

"Aye, general."

"Major Navander," Sebastian said. "We're diverting the landing of Transport 127 to new coordinates. Have your men maintain cover and standing by for infantry support."

"Yes, prefect," came the reply.

Sebastian turned his attention to the other scenes of the battle. This was where things balanced on the razors edge. You had to put competent people in charge down the chain of command, to deal with the details of things. Second guess them, and you not only undermine their authority, you diminish their ability to make independent decisions and potentially make things worse. At the same time, opportunities had to be exploited, and weaknesses shorn up. Micromanaging this battle wouldn't win it, but neither would standing aside and doing nothing.

The choice was made for him when it came to Dantooine. "What's the story, admiral?" Sebastian asked as Fleet Beta chewed through the Vong coralships.

"They've got a shield up over the capital, as expected," Cirule said. "But they must have known we were coming; they've drawn their armies back into Matale."

Kriff. "How many civilians in Matale?"

"Half a million," Cirule said.

Sebastian ran his hand down his face. "We don't have the spare manpower needed to liberate the city, admiral."

"I agree."

"It's not shielded, is it?"

"No, prefect."

Sebastian ticked over on the display and a hologram of the Borg Queen appeared. "Yes, Sebastian?"

"The city of Matale has five hundred thousand people," he said. "We need to get them out so that we can bombard the city without killing civilians."

"My ships can transport them all off the world in minutes, Sebastian," the Queen said. "We can deposit them elsewhere on Dantooine once the world is liberated."

"Hurry," Sebastian said. "Once the Vong realize what's happening, they may start killing the locals out of spite." The Queen nodded and Sebastian flipped back to Admiral Cirule. "The Borg are beginning an evacuation. As soon as they're done, wipe out the Vong forces at Matale from orbit."

"Yes, prefect." Sebastian ticked over and saw the advance forces heading into the Dantooine capital. Legions of stormtroopers confronted the Vong on the streets while TIEs buzzed overhead, maintaining air superiority and eliminating key targets behind the lines. Things were going well there, but Matale would be the question mark. The Vong knew about transporters, but maybe they didn't know just how powerful they truly were. The Borg assimilated whole planets in the bad old days, so one small city was a piece of cake for them.

Sebastian switched back to Tinal-Geen. The sensors were still down at the capital, but the advances on Tiban and Fon City were going splendidly. Klingons were rappelling down their lines from an AT-HT within Tiban before blasting away at the Vong. Sebastian shook his head. Imperials and Klingons literally fighting side by side, he thought. If you were here to see this, Gorren, what would you think? Would you still want to stab them in the back, or would you see that maybe we're all on the same side after all?

Elsewhere on Tinal-Geen, Captain Korris and his men pushed through the Vong forces until they caught sight of the communication tower that also served as the source of the jamming. Korris examined it through his electrobinoculars while his men secured the area. It was close to civilian homes, and with the heavy jamming there was no way to tell whether or not they were occupied, hence the need for the surgical strike. He barked a few quick orders, and they began shining a pulse beam on the side of the building. "Squad 127-Bravo requesting aerial strike, marked coordinates, Grid A19."

On board the orbiting star destroyer, Major Navander was passed the request. He didn't care much for the Klingons; the Empire had been doing just fine without their smelly, hairy presence, but there was no need to undermine the war effort because of it. He approved the request and it was quickly sent down to the men in the cockpits. "Squad 127-Bravo, this is Grey 3, closing on Grid A19. Stand by for lock."

"Roger, Grey 3," Korris said, then covered his commlink. "I detest these protocols," he spat the final word. "Let us hope these Imperials can provide half the success their arrogance suggests."

The TIE Bomber, flanked by its supporting Interceptors, came around for its run. The jamming field was playing havoc, but the pulse beam was capable of getting through at up to ten miles. "I have tone," he announced, and released the missile. "Maintain marking until impact, Squad 127-Bravo." The missile dove, following the pulse beam without wavering. The Vong hadn't deployed any defenses, so nothing was able to stop it from striking its target, its hardened nose puncturing the exterior to allow the missile to explode inside, demolishing the structure. Sensors immediately came back to full resolution. They also showed that the Vong had, in fact, kept the people locked away inside their homes. By doing it this way rather than dropping a heavier bomb, the Alliance had saved hundreds of lives.

"HA!" Sebastian yelled with triumph from Cube Prime. "Rommel, you magnificent bastard, I read your book!"

"I'm re-assigning our forces there, prefect," Marnisch said, ignoring Sebastian's odd outburst. "Anything you wish to add?"

"Just to keep up the excellent work," Sebastian said. He was grinning despite himself. The Alliance was performing quite well, the mixed forces shoring up each other's weaknesses. Hopefully they would all start to realize how well they work together. Alloys, right Morgan? Alloys are stronger.

The jubilation was cut short, however. A transmission was being sent out from Matale, Dantooine; the Vong had turned the hated technology on so the Alliance could see what was happening. As he'd feared, they'd turned on the locals. Bodies piled in the streets as they went about their massacre. Those who begged for mercy found none. Those who fought were quickly and unceremoniously cut down. Mothers and fathers who pleaded for their children's lives were forced to watch as-

Sebastian cut the feed; he was breathing heavy. You did what you could for them, he reminded himself. You're saving as many as you can. The Vong are just doing this to goad you, to make you lose your resolve and stop the advance. They can't hold you back with weapons, so they're going to attack your humanity. You can't let them win.

Sebastian covered his eyes with his hands, but the images wouldn't go away. You knew this was going to happen, he reminded himself. You knew that this is what came with the job. You knew that war meant people -innocent people- dying. You knew that by taking charge, you would directly and indirectly cause death and pain. So why does it suddenly bother you so much?

Because he needed to ask his father about how one copes when one's actions lead others to die. Because he needed his mother to point out that he isn't responsible for the evils of others. Because he needed his best friend to explain to him the regrettable necessities of being a warrior. Because he needed his grandfather to remind him that redemption sometimes hurts. Because he needed his wife to hold onto him and tell him that he was doing the right thing even when it all felt wrong and that she'd never pass judgment on him and always always love him. Because he needed to face this without knowing that however many troops he commanded and worlds he controlled, he was still completely alone. And in his exhaustion of mind and body, watching innocent people die reminded him of how many times he'd witnessed it, felt it.... reminded him of the price it demanded of the soul.

Don't hate, Sebastian reminded himself. Don't hate them... don't hate them... just... just...

Just destroy them!

"Admiral," Sebastian said. "Has the populace been removed from Matale?"

"Yes, prefect," Cirule said.

"Blast it into oblivion," he ordered.

"Yes, prefect."

"Admiral," he added eventually. "Did you see the transmission?"

"Yes," Cirule said darkly.

"What's your opinion?"

Cirule looked down for a moment as he thought, then up into Sebastian's face. "They're little more than animals, prefect."

"I agree. No mercy, admiral. This isn't war any more, it's extermination, and we do not stop until that work is done."

Cirule smiled just a little and nodded. "As you command, prefect."

The Oracle turned the monitor off and reflected on what she had just witnessed, ignoring the sounds of the Sith at work outside the lab. She tapped her lips as she thought, then turned to the corpse on the table. "Perhaps your services won't be required after all," she remarked. "Perhaps matters haven't been prevented so much as delayed." She looked at the other monitors as the Alliance fleet continued its relentless advance across the shrinking area that once was Vong space. This was the end for them, the Oracle had foreseen it and shed no tears over it. But perhaps they could serve her one last time before dying out... perhaps they could finish what Ben Skywalker had unwittingly begun.

Go To Part XXXVI
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