Steve Gordon - Ensectoid 01 - The Ensectoid Invasion

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The Insectoid Invasion

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First Forward

From the log of War Admiral Norman North, Commander, 7th

fleet:

I always blamed myself for letting it happen.

But in reality, it was society's fault. Society, our

society, which had rotted to the very core.

I had roused them once before, to face the menace which

now threatened to utterly wipe us out as a free society. But

when a chance came for peace, any chance, no matter how

unrealistic, no matter how risky, they grasped it in an

unbreakable bear hug, and there was nothing I or anyone could

do to separate them from it. For our society not only had

lost the will to fight, but even worse, had lost even the

will to enable us, the warrior class, to defend it.

Our advancements in technology had regretfully eliminated the

need for workers. Rohelpers took over what little that still

needed to be done manually, and most citizens became a

passive bunch of consumers, interested only in consumption,

focused on their next vid, their next meal, their next bit of

entertainment. And war was inconvenient for them, not because

they had to fight it (most of them didn't), but the prospect

of conflict threatened to distract them from their all-

important pursuit of pleasure. So when the enemy proposed

their deceitful peace, they didn't have to make much of an

effort to deceive us.

And now we've lost everything, and almost everyone. I

keep thinking there was something I could have done,

something I should have done. Maybe I could have saved us all

by staging a coup and taking over, before the armistice was

signed and the ambush had taken place. Maybe. And if I had,

maybe I and my sailors would be sitting in some brig, waiting

for the enemy to come and take over from our current

jailors.... Or maybe we would have saved the day.

Now, we'll never know. All we can be concerned with is

saving the tiny group of humanity that's left, keeping our

task force together long enough to regroup and one day

reclaim what's ours. But the memory of what "might have been"

continues to and always will be with me, wherever I go.

Second Forward

Finally, there would be peace.

Humanity had been in conflict with the Insectoids for

nearly 20 years. They had appeared out of nowhere--giant,

seven feet tall intelligent insects bent on conquering the

human race. And, for a time, with their flood of destroyers,

cruisers, and battleships, it appeared they would win. It was

only at the decisive battle of Trajinar, three years earlier,

that the Alliance fleet under the command of War Admiral

Norman North had turned the tide and decisively crushed the

Insectoid fleet.

After that, battles became skirmishes, skirmishes

became hit and run raids, and then the Insectoids ceased

their attacks altogether. They had contacted one of the

Alliance's most respected ministers, Lawrence Mitterand, and

sued for peace.

And peace there would be. After a year of slow but

steady negotiation, Mitterand had worked out a peace

agreement that both sides could agree to.

League President Hov Marshall looked out from the

bridge of his mighty flagship the Augustus at the rest of the

fleet. He shielded his eyes from the powerful glare of

Vitalics' brilliant sun as he started at the assembled ships.

Nearly the entire League fleet was here for the armistice

with the Insectoids. The League was the dominant partner in

the Alliance; the junior partner, the June Directorate, had

chosen not to participate in the armistice, but had agreed to

abide by the terms of the ceasefire.

Well, Marshall wasn't going to let the Directorate

spoil things.

"Ze Insectoid fleet is here," said Mitterand, standing

by his side. "Finally, ve will have ze peace," he said in his

old westeuro accent.

"Admiral Peterson, order the fleet to a halt," Marshall said

as he eyed the approaching Insectoid Fleet.

"Fleet command: hold here," said the Admiral over the

central comm.

The Insectoid fleet maintained a healthy distance from

the League fleet. Only four of their larger ships slowly

moved towards the League Fleet, each moving towards a

different part of the fleet.

"Admiral, I'm getting some weird readings from those

ships," said a bridge crewer. "The scanners seem to say that

they have some kind of unstable cargo."

"Cargo? What kind of cargo?"

At that moment external ports opened on the giant

ships, which rapidly spat out a series of oval objects which

speeded towards the densely packed League fleet. As they

closed on the fleet these spheres started to detonate,

casting a fine mist over the League fleet.

"Power drain!" cried a crewer. "All systems are down!"

cried another.

"What's going on?" said Marshall.

"Ve must continue ze peace process," said Mitterand,

almost mechanically. "Ve need ze peace like ve need ze air."

And it was at that moment that the Insectoids attacked.

Still staying well clear of the League fleet and the

mist that enveloped, the Insectoid ship launched a massive

wave of missiles. The tail section of the missile exhausts

cut out as they entered the misty area, but inertia caused

them to continue moving forward.

Peterson eyed the missiles streaking towards them.

"Raise shields! Activate anti missile lasers!"

"We can't sir, we've lost all power except emergency

batteries!" said one of the crewers, frantically turning

switches on and off again.

The Augustus was rocked as a missile hit it amidships,

causing everyone on the bridge to stumble momentarily. Other

missiles slammed into other ships of the fleet, all of which

were helpless and dead in space. Several of the destroyers,

not large enough to survive a direct impact, burst into

pieces.

"What's going on here?" said Marshall. "This was

supposed to be an armistice!"

"All ships to battlestations, repel attackers!" Admiral

Peterson shouted into the hectic fleetcom channel. But with

so many voices over the comm he couldn't make himself heard.

Not that it mattered; most of the fleet was disabled, as dead

as museum pieces.

The Insectoids launched a second wave.

"Ve must continue ze peace process," said Mitterand

mechanically.

Marshall, almost out of his mind, grabbed Mitterand by

the shirt. "What are you talking about? They're blowing us to

pieces!"

Another set of missiles slammed into the fleet. This

time a number of cruisers were seriously damaged, several of

them critically. One blew up just starboard of the Augustia,

creating a white flash which shook the flagship.

"Ve must continue ze peace process," said Mitterand.

"Stop saying that!" Marshall shrieked, shaking

Mitterand and slapping him hard in the face. What happened

next surprised him even more.

Mitterand's face came off, revealing wiring and

circuitry underneath, with sparkling orbs for eyes.

Marshall reflexively let go, just as another missile

slammed into the Augustus, causing him to stumble. "What...

are you?"

Moving very quickly, Mitterand grabbed Marshall and

started to throttle him. "Peace begets peace begets peace" he

said, squeezing Marshall's neck in a crushing grip. There was

a crack of broken bones and Marshall was tossed across the

bridge. General Peterson reached for his sidearm...

Just as another missile slammed into the bridge. The

Augustus was one of the most heavily armored ships in the

fleet, but it wasn't intended to operate without shields, and

without shields it couldn't survive more than a few direct

hits. The missile blew up much of the forward decks,

incinerating the bridge crew instantly. The survivors in the

interior sections didn't last much longer either. Missiles

from a succeeding wave crashed into the engine section,

detonating the fuel supply and creating a miniature sun in

the space where the Augustus stood.

This scene was repeated throughout the entire fleet.

One after another League ships turned into fireballs, their

crews helpless to do anything to defend themselves or even

fleet. Within a few minutes, the rest of the fleet was

destroyed. So complete was the destruction that there were

almost no survivors. Of the 362 ships in the League fleet,

only 8 managed to escape the immediate battle. Three of those

were quickly hunted down and destroyed; one light cruiser

managed to go to ground and her crew joined the planetbound

resistance on Whenfor; one destroyer managed to link up with

members of the surviving fleet, a battle cruiser and a fast

attack destroyer became blockade runners until they were

hunted down and destroyed, and one battleship, whose story is

told elsewhere, escaped into deep space.

But for all intents and purposes the bulk of the

League fleet ceased to exist in a matter of minutes, leaving

all the League worlds open to domination by the Insectoids.

There would be peace all right, but the peace of the

subjugated, the peace of the master and the slave; peace, but

on the Insectoids' terms, and humanity, what elements that

survived, would fare very, very poorly.

Chapter 1: Attack at Hunt's World

Two weeks earlier...

"It's utter foolishness!" said War Admiral Norman

North."Watch your tongue, Admiral!" countered Admiral Gubar

Peterson, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff for the

League of United Worlds. He was addressing a fellow admiral,

the legendary Norman North. There were precious few War (four

star) Admirals in the League, and although North's permanent

rank was Victory Admiral (five star), he had given up that

rank to return to active duty in the field. Regardless of his

rank, Peterson was technically the top Navy man, and expected

proper behavior from all his sailors--even the great Norman

North, the hero of Trajinar.

"I still think it's foolish," said North stubbornly, as

if he didn't fear anything Peterson could do to him.

"This is a decision of the civilian hierarchy, and we

report to them, not the other way around," said Peterson.

"Are you saying you are going to go against the orders of our

civilian authorities?"

North avoided this obvious trap. "No, of course not,

sir." He was already aware of the number of resignations, a

number of them forced, over the issue. Some of the best fleet

captains and admirals of the line had already resigned in

protest; but North was not ready to take that route. That

wasn't his way.

Peterson relaxed slightly. "Very well then. You're

entitled to have your own personal opinion about peace with

the Insectoids, but keep that opinion to yourself. Now, let's

talk about your next assignment." Having taken North down a

notch, he felt inclined to be a bit more generous. "I'm

prepared to give you some latitude. Where would you like your

fleet to be located?"

North felt his mouth drop open. "I had assumed that I

would go to Vitalics with the rest of the fleet for the

signing of the armistice."

"That's not wise, War Admiral. You yourself pointed out

the folly of putting the entire fleet all in one place,

leaving our planets undefended. The League President has

agreed with your line of thought in this matter. That's why

he's permitting you and your fleet to stay behind."

"Meaning he doesn't want me anywhere near Vitalics

during the signing."

"That's another way of putting it," said Peterson,

allowing himself a grin. "But I'm prepared to give you some

latitude in your positioning."

"Latitude?"

"You can base your fleet anywhere you like... as long

as it's not within 10 lightyears of Vitalics."

"I see," said North. He turned to a star map, as if

thinking, then pointed to a star, "Hunt."

"The Hunt system?" Peterson looked surprised, both at

the speed of North's response and his selection. "I would've

thought you would've chosen a system 10.1 lightyears from

Vitalics, or stationed yourself here on August."

"Hunt will do fine, sir. What forces are under my

command?"

"Here's a readout," said Peterson, handing him a

datapad. North took a look at it, and bit his lip. 42 ships.

About 10% of the fleet. It was almost an insult for a War

Admiral to be commanding such a small force. Well, at least

he still had the Glory, his flagship, and a fair mix of top

of the line and current ships. It would have to do. Peterson

was looking at his face to see his reaction, but North forced

himself to give a blank expression. "Very well, sir. If

you'll excuse me?"

The Glory was an old Command Carrier, one of only four

such ships still in existence. But old shouldn't be confused

with feeble; although over 300 years old, every part of the

Glory except her armor and her bulkheads had been stripped

out and replaced several times with upgrades and new

components. The Glory was one of those very rare and

expensive combinations of a battleship and a fleet carrier.

On the bottom the ship was pure carrier: it had two launching

and landing bays capable of holding six squadrons of fighters

plus a wide variety of support and transport craft. The Glory

currently carried a complement of five squadrons of old but

proven assault Wildcats and one squadron of even older

Defender heavy bombers. Although both classes of fighters had

been in service for over 100 years, the Glory carried a

mixture of type 145-D and 150-B Wildcats and type 78-J

Defenders, among the most modern versions of these fighters

in the fleet.

The top of the Glory was pure battleship, featuring three

sets of massive 34 inch laser cannon turrets, side mounted

missile launchers, a 22 inch turret in the rear, and a number

of small caliber anti-fighter armament. While no longer state

of the art compared with the most modern battleships, the

Glory could go toe to toe against nearly any ship in the

fleet except the most modern superbattleships and

dreadnaughts.

In short, the Glory had the teeth of a battleship and the

carrying capacity of a carrier. That combination, however,

made the Command Carrier line tremendously expensive, which

explains why they were discontinued after only eight models,

in favor of regular carriers and battleships.

North's shuttle, accompanied by his standard fighter escort,

landed in the forward landing bay. His executive officers,

Captain Roger Dulin, skipper of the Glory, and Commander

Stacy Wren, his first officer, were waiting for him in his

ready room.

"Ridiculous!" were Dulin's first words.

"Obviously a trap," said Wren. "Why else would they

want to meet at Vitalics?"

"Admiral Peterson said that they considered that

neutral territory," said North.

"And it's just a coincidence they chose a meeting place

where electromagnetic interference would prevent any

communication outside of the system?" said Wren.

"Mitterand said with the entire fleet there we'd have

nothing to fear," said North hollowly. Even he didn't pretend

to believe what he was saying.

"Mitterand is a traitor!" said Wren savagely.

"Commander-"

"Or at least a dupe," said Dulin. "It doesn't matter

which. What are we going to do?"

"Do, Captain?" North raised his eyebrows. "Our orders

are to go to Hunt's world and stay put."

"We've got to stop them," said Dulin. "They'll ambush

the fleet."

North frowned. "Assuming you're right, how do you

propose we stop them? Admiral Peterson is leaving even as we

speak, and the bulk of the fleet is already on its way to

Vitalics."

"We could catch up to them at top speed before they get

there," said Wren.

"And then what?" said North. "Tell them they're going

into an ambush, of which I have no proof of? And when the

admirals and civilian leaders who are traveling with them

tell them to disregard my orders, what then?"

"Tell them not to obey their admirals, if necessary,"

said Wren. "War Admiral, you've saved us countless times. We

all owe you for Trajinar. The fleet will follow you."

North self consciously fingered the silver eagles on

the collar of his light blue uniform. "So you're telling me

to stage a coup, to overthrow the elected leaders of the

League and their military leadership. Do you realize what

you're saying?"

"If it has to be done to save us, yes!" cried Wren.

North turned to Dulin. "And you, Captain? What are your

views on this?"

"I... I think the fleet will listen to you, sir," said

Dulin."You realize you're talking about mutiny," said North.

"The penalty for which is still capital punishment." He

paused, as if he were also fighting a battle with himself.

"All right. Let's take your thought experiment a step

further. What if we make our big announcement and some ships

don't go along? Do we fire on them?"

Dulin was silent.

"Do we shoot at our own sailors? For that matter, what

if the majority of the fleet doesn't go along? We'll be

vastly outnumbered and outgunned. Are you prepared to be

vaporized for mutiny, along with all the other ship captains

and senior officers in this fleet?" North asked.

Dulin, choked up, tried to make a sound but nothing

came out.

North slowly paced back and forth on the carpeting.

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about doing

something like this too. But it's too risky. Even if we're

right, without proof we might not be able to persuade the

fleet. And just remember, we may not be right; it's been

almost a year since the last skirmish; the Insectoids may

really be suing for peace.

"You don't believe that!" said Wren.

North shook his head. "You're right, I don't. But I'm

not certain. And as long as I'm not certain, and an

'intervention' on our part is risky at best, I'm not going to

act. Remember that most of the fleet is going there; if there

is an ambush being planned, the Insectoids will have to be

strong enough to take out our entire fleet at once. Maybe

they won't be foolish enough to try; maybe if they try,

they'll fail."

"At the very least we should go to Vitalics too."

North shook his head. "We'd be risking court martial

when we got into sensor range. And with only 40 odd ships

under my direct command, I'm not sure we could make a

difference."

He sighed. "This isn't an easy decision. But I'm not

going to overthrow an elected government unless I'm certain

they're wrong, and I'm not.... And even if I were, I'm not

nearly sure we'd be successful."

"So what do we do now?"

"We go to Hunt's world... and we wait," said North.

The Glory and its accompanying fleet came into orbit

around the moon orbiting Hunt's World. Formerly a pioneering

world, Hunt had over the centuries gradually evolved into a

center of industry and capital and was now the main "money

world" in the League. Because of its importance to the

financial industry, Hunt's World had a series of

battlestations in high orbit around the planet, brimming with

weaponry and a full assortment of starfighters.

But, oddly enough, North hadn't stationed his fleet in

proximity of the battlestations; instead, much of the fleet

were in orbit around Hunt's moon, too far to get support from

the weaponry on the battlestations, if needed.

"It's been eight hours," Commander Wren fumed. "Eight

hours since the armistice convened.

"Patience, Commander," said North, sitting in his

command chair which was set just behind Captain Dulin's. "I'm

sure we'll be hearing something soon." He touched the silver

eagles on his collar below his four stars, his only sign of

restlessness.

"How long does it take them to sign a piece of paper?"

Wren fumed.

North gave her a mild look but said nothing.

"Sir, we're getting an incoming communication," said

the comm officer, working the receiver. "It's faint, but I

think it's from the fleet. We can only get audio."

A few seconds later there was a hissing sound and then,

"--under attack. This is Captain Tirako of the Cruiser

Impulse. We are under attack by a fleet of Insectoid ships-"

North's voice was immediate, but it was also calm.

"Captain Tirako, this is War Admiral Norman North of the

Glory. What happened to the fleet?"

"...fleet... destroyed. All destroyed. Glory, they're

firing again!" There was an explosion, then a crackle, and

the line went dead.

"Captain, I'm picking up a fleet of Insectoid ships at

extreme range, closing rapidly," said the scanner officer.

For a moment, the bridge was incredibly silent.

"I think we have our answer," said North, very slowly,

in a very soft voice, as if he had difficulty speaking. He

looked grimmer than Wren had ever seen him.

"Battle Stations."

The attacking fleet was not, of course, the same one

that had conducted the ambush at Vitalics; Vitalics, still

days away, was too far away. Instead, this smaller Insectoid

fleet had started out several days before the Vitalics ambush

occurred, timing their arrival to come just after the

Vitalics rendezvous had taken place.

"I'm reading 78 combat ships,' said the scanner

officer. "12 battleships, 14 battlecruisers, 27 cruisers, the

rest an assortment of smaller ships."

"They knew exactly where we were," North muttered, his

heart sinking as he stared at the line of massive battleships

on the screen. The Insectoids had a two to one advantage in

ships, but probably a three to one advantage in weapons;

while the Insectoids had 12 battleships and 14

battlecruisers, North's fleet had only the Glory, and a

pocket battleship, the Blue Luna, and four battlecruisers.

The rest were standard cruisers and other combat vessels. It

would be a tough fight, and everyone knew it. Normally,

North's cruisers wouldn't stand a chance against Insectoid

battleships. But North had a few surprises planned that would

help even the odds, if everything worked as planned.

North raised his voice, "Only 78 ships? They must be feeling

overconfident." He touched a button on his console to open a

channel to interfleet. "This is the War Admiral. By now you

have heard of the destruction of the main part of our fleet.

I won't deceive you with some public relations doubletalk and

say that everything will be fine."

"But I will say that whatever has happened to the main fleet,

we are still alive and the Insectoids haven't won until

they've beaten us. We've defeated the Insectoids before and

we will again, as long as we continue to be a coherent combat

force. That's why it's vital we win this encounter with a

minimum of losses. There will be time for grieving later. For

now I expect you all to give your best. Prepare to conform to

the attack plan Hunt 1 exactly as we rehearsed it. Good luck.

North out."

The previous silence was replaced by a babble of voices

as bridge officers readied their stations for combat.

The Insectoid Admiral, a junior Queen, was puzzled. She

had expected North's forces to be stationed in high orbit

around Hunt, to take advantage of the defenses afforded by

the battlestations. She had been prepared to conduct a

standoff attack with missiles to destroy the battlestations

first. Instead North had his forces strung out around Hunt's

moon, where the battlestation weapons wouldn't be effective

and where even the battlestation's fighters would take

several minutes to engage. The Insectoids had fought Norman

North too long to underestimate him, and yet the Insectoids

still couldn't see what North was trying to achieve or why he

would take such an obviously inferior defensive stance.

The Admiral studied the scanner interface. It was a

pity they didn't have the same suppression equipment they

used at Vitalics; but there had been barely enough there to

get the job done there. Well, they'd have to conduct this

battle more conventionally. Either way, the result would be

the same.

"Order the attack," the Admiral ordered.

The Insectoid attack fleet closed in a narrow

formation. During their first attack they intended to punch

through the human fleet, currently in low orbit. Then, while

their formation was disrupted, the Insectoids would engage

the enemy one-on-one until they were all destroyed. The

Insectoid Admiral had competed with others to have the honor

of destroying the great Norman North. She wondered what kind

of honor the Queen would bestow upon her when she brought the

Queen his head.

Her attention snapped back to the present as her fleet

plowed through the human fleet, firing madly at their ships.

The human shields were holding up, but so were those of the

Insectoid ships. The Insectoids, having gone past the human

fleet and between it and Hunt's moon, started to brake, and

turn, and...

Brilliant beams of light shot up from the surface of

Hunt's moon, impacting on several of the Insectoid ships. The

Insectoid Admiral turned her scanners to the moon and saw,

for the first time, that portable laser batteries had been

set up on the surface. Where had they come from?

She had no time to wonder, because even as those laser

batteries opened fire, dozens if not hundreds of fighters

were streaming out of hidden caves beneath the moon's

surface. Where were all those fighters coming from? North's

fleet didn't have nearly that many fighters, according to the

intelligence reports. Then the Admiral immediately figured it

out: they must have been moved from their births in the

battlestation to the moon. When had this been done?

And then explosions started to come on a new front; as

the Insectoid fleet braked and turned, heading away from the

moon, some of them slammed into mines! The Insectoid Admiral

checked her short range scanner. There were a thick layer of

mines between the human fleet and the moon. How had the

humans known that they would arrive at this exact spot?

North's fleet closed on the Insectoid ships, which

continued to be pounded by surface fire and, a few moments

later, by squadrons of 145-B and even more nimble150-D

Wildcats streaming out of the surface. The Insectoid Admiral,

realizing that being sandwiched by North's fleet on one side

and the moon's laser emplacements and fighters on the other

was a recipe for disaster, ordered her fleet to break off and

cut through the line of North's ships to get to the relative

safety of open space.

But in doing so the fleeing Insectoid ships lost their

carefully planned formation and bearings and became open

targets for North's fleet. North's cruiser groups raked them

with fire as they passed. A number of Insectoid ships also

slammed into mines on their way out, causing heavy damage.

When the Insectoid ships cleared the mine field and

steered out of range of the moon's guns they moved to reform

into their original squadrons, but War Admiral North's fleet

gave them no quarter.

By the time the Insectoid fleet had moved off and

reformed, while still under constant attack from North's

fleet, 37 ships had either been destroyed or heavily damaged,

including five of the battleships and seven of the

battlecruisers, and North's fleet hadn't lost a single ship.

But if the two fleets were now roughly even in size the

Insectoid fleet was still more powerful, its battleships and

battlecruisers capable of outgunning any ship in North's

fleet in a one-on-one battle, except perhaps for the Glory.

But it wasn't simply to be a ship to ship battle.

Fighters, nearly 300 of them, swarmed up from the moons

surface, attacking key Insectoid battle groups.

One fighter attacking a capital ship can almost be

ignored. Three or four fighters attacking a capital ship is

an irritant. But 20 fighters armed with heavy rockets can

make short work of a cruiser or even a larger capital ship. A

number of them were converted Defender heavy bombers with

several payloads of ordinance.

North's fleet was careful to only engage the Insectoid

battlegroups already under heavy attack from the fighters.

Whenever one of the Insectoid battlegroups not under fighter

attack tried to engage North's fleet, his ships carefully

maneuvered out of the way to try to keep the besieged

Insectoid fleet groups between them and the ones not under

fighter attack. In fact, at any given moment half of North's

fleet refused to engage, simply playing cat and mouse with

battleships and battlecruisers not under fighter attack.

The fighters did quick work, not waiting to destroy

Insectoid ships but rather halting attacks when they had

achieved heavy damage, and moved in groups of 20 and 30 to

attack the next ship.

"Engage them!" cried the Insectoid Admiral. In their

rush to get here they hadn't brought any fighters of their

own, but the Insectoid Admiral thought that their

overwhelming number of capital ships would even out that

advantage. Then again, the Insectoid Admiral hadn't expected

to face 300 heavily armed fighters, more than triple the

number normally assigned to the Glory.

"We can't," said an Insectoid officer. "They keep

running from us!"

But as the number of undamaged Insectoid ships dwindled down

to 25, the bulk of North's fleet did turn and engage the

Insectoids, even those not currently under fighter attack. A

cruiser couldn't take on a battlecruiser, one to one, but

three of them could. The Glory directly engaged one of the

two remaining Insectoid battleships, while the pocket

battleship Blue Luna, in the company of a destroyer squadron,

engaged the other. The Insectoid fleet struck out at the

human ships, damaging a number of them, but the momentum was

on North's side.

When the number of Insectoid ships remaining dropped to

less than 20, the Insectoid Admiral gave the order to

retreat.

"Pursue and destroy!" cried North from the bridge of

the Glory. The fleet pounded the Insectoids as they

retreated, following them to the edge of the system and

disabling or destroying four more of their ships. At the

system's edge North called the fleet back to deal with the

surviving damaged Insectoid ships who were trying to limp

from the field.

The fleet opened fire on the damaged Insectoid ships on

orders from the Glory. Captain Dulin didn't ask War Admiral

North if he wanted them to rescue any Insectoid survivors,

and War Admiral North, grim faced, said nothing. After the

slaughter at Vitalics, no one was in the mood to take

prisoners.

When it was all over Admiral North assessed the damage.

Seven ships, three cruisers and four destroyers had been

destroyed or heavily damaged. The rest of the fleet had

suffered light damage, except for one cruiser whose engines

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eraseTheInsectoidInvasionBySteveGordon,Allrightsreserved.Feelfreetosavethisatanytimeinyourharddrive(clickon"file"onyourbrowser,then"saveas"tosaveitlocally),soyoucanfinishreadingitatyourleisure.FirstForwardFromthelogofWarAdmiralNormanNorth,Commander,7thfleet:Ialwaysblamedmyselfforlettingithappen.Buti...

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Steve Gordon - Ensectoid 01 - The Ensectoid Invasion.pdf

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Steve Gordon - Ensectoid 01 - The Ensectoid Invasion

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