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For 35yrs the border between the Human Empire and Gorgonzola Empire as remained mostly peaceful. The citizens for the Human Empire of this border region are loyal to the last man, woman, and child to the Empire. It was on one of these worlds that gave birth to a legend. The world of Apollo 6 is one of the harshest worlds within the Empire. One so harsh that only it could claim to be the birth world of James J. Owens, the most feared of Death Dealers. A world that is even now poised to give birth to a new legendary warrior. One who shall be baptized in the blood of the Empire’s enemies. Robert Wolff youngest great grandchild of James Owens’ sister Cecilia Owens.

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Chapter 22
Northern Continent Southern Plains, Apollo 6
1st Death Dealer Tactical Operations Command Area

James and Maiha looked out at the smashed and destroyed remnants of the Gorgonzola military on Apollo 6. Everywhere they looked they saw nothing but total devastation. Their once mighty APS Regiments blown to smithereens. Heavy tank battalions melted down to little more than slag heaps. Infantry units of all sizes reduced to ash. Artillery units torn apart at the atomic level. Trench works turned into long lines of molten glass. Both had witnessed the results of the Rolling Thunder attack before but never in the history of those attacks had one delivered such damage.

“What the frack happened here mom?” James asked her with a heaviness he rarely felt for the enemy. “They were dug in. I know that firepower our ships bring to a fight is extreme. Still, it shouldn’t have reached this level of destruction.”

“Look at where half of those units are James. Outside of their fortifications. We got lucky and caught them in the open. This was nothing more than the Fog of War and lucky timing on our part. If our ships had hit them ten minutes earlier we would have been the ones paying the price for victory. Ten minutes later and they would have been in position to hit our lines. We would have been the ones on the defensive, with our most powerful weapon of no use.” Maiha sighed then looked towards Hill 931. “If not for Fallen Angel One’s warning our losses would have been enough to force us to retreat and regroup.”

“I know that mom. The question I have is why weren’t their APS unit able to withstand the attack better? I know that they were hit by Naval Class weapons but still. Those hundred tonners shouldn’t gone down the they did.” James said as he pointed towards the nearest 100tn APS. “The armor on that Atlas looks like it shredded under the impact of a PPC instead of melting.”

“That’s because it did shred under the impact, your Majesty.” A Field Recovery Specialist told him as he walked up to the Royals. In his hands he held a piece of metal. “This is a sample of the enemy armor plate. This is nothing more than four-inch-thick homogeneous steel plating. A standard one-oh-five main gun tank round can punch through this crap. Hit it with a Practical Projection Cannon of any size and it’ll break apart at the seams or fracture lines.”

“What the frack?!” Maiha asked in shock as she grabbed the metal from the man’s hand. “If they’ve been constructing their APSs out of this shit. It’s no wonder they just came apart like they did.”

“They went for quantity over quality, Empress. When you don’t have the resources to produce quality war materials. Your only choice is to produce mass quantity and bluff your enemy. I know that this is going to sound harsh, Empress. As far as I’m concerned the Cheeseheads brought this on themselves.” The Specialist grunted.

“Thank you for the explanation Specialist. Any word on the recovery of those downed ground attack fighters of the enemy’s?” James asked with a knowing grin.

“Still working on the count sire.” The Specialist answered with his own grin.

“It’ll take them another seven days to get the final tally James. We played marry hell with their remaining aerospace fighters. Of the thirty-six they were able to get off the ground we intercept and downed them all before they could even make a deference in the fight. The rest of their fighter contingent was destroyed on the ground. Either on the flight line or in their hangers.” Terresa told him as she walked up to where they were standing. “That’s the good news.”

“What’s the bad news dear?” Maiha asked with a sly grin.

“Raven and I are tied at one-hundred apiece, damn it!” Terresa grumbled. James just hugged his wife as he smothered his chuckles in her pure white hair. Maiha had no reason to hold back her laughter at her daughter-in-law’s complaint.

“Terresa my dear. I fear that you two shall forever be at odds. The two of you are far too alike to let the other get ahead.” Maiha chuckled openly then turned deadly serious. “Were your people able to take out those mobile airfields?”

“Each and every one, thanks to the Black Saints. If not for their recon work we would have missed two or three of them. As it is we got lucky with those last three airfields. One of them had Raider class Dropships waiting on the pad for evac of the Cheeseheads.” Terresa chuckled evilly. “The A-1 Skyraiders of the Phantoms turn those ships to burned out hulks on the tarmac thanks to their torpedoes.”

“About that Terresa. I know that the A-1 Skyraider is an aging aerospace fighter. Why hasn’t it been replaced yet?” James asked her honestly.

“Because no one has found or designed anything better. It may be slow, ugly, and armored to take on a Fire Support APS Lance on its own, but it maneuvers like a dream. When you add all that together it just makes it that much harder to kill. Until someone can design a bird that out preforms the Skyraider we’ll continue to use them. Before you say the Claymore can do a better job, don’t. The Claymore is a solid all-around fighter and bomber. It really isn’t designed for ground support attacks like the Skyraider. Trust me I know what I designed the Claymore to be, and a ground attack and torpedo bomber is along those lines.” Terresa informed James.

“I know that much love. I think only the pilots in triple seven are crazy enough to use a Claymore as a ground attack fighter.” James chuckled.

“That’s true. Most squadrons that are outfitted with the Claymore only use them as interceptors and air supremacy fighters.” Maiha surmised. “Though I do worry about such narrow thinking among our Death Dealer Units.”

“The problem isn’t the Death Dealer Squadrons, mother Maiha. It’s the standard Naval Carrier groups that we need to worry about. They’re used to having three types of fighters aboard their ships at the minimum. A fighter squadron, a bomber squadron, lastly a torpedo squadron. Aboard the supercarriers they have as many as six squadrons broken down in much the same way.”

“Look’s like the Cheeseheads aren’t the only ones who need to rethink our priorities for war national defense.” Maiha sighed.

“Not this time mother.” James snarled. “Once Lady Saris and the twenty-second slam down on San Vitruvio along with the six Empyreal Armies of Task Force Revenant. This war is over along with the Gorgonzola Empire.”

“What’s changed James?” Terresa asked as she picked up the unsaid note of anger.

“Those fools in Parliament and the Hall of Lords want to use the territory along the Gorgonzola Empire’s border with the Balzac Imperium as a buffer zone.” James sighed as he thought about that border. “They’ve made the suggestion that the best way to use the Planetary Defense Forces from the regions that surrendered as a Balzac Border Guard. As much as I would love to ignore those two branches of our government. I can’t in good conscience turn a blind eye to the defense of the Gorgonzola citizens. It would be tantamount to feed them to the wolves.”

“True. We shouldn’t punish the average citizen of their Empire for the misguided ideals of their fool Emperor. It would be best that in the short term we setup local planetary Governments. Then in a few years allow open elections. The same way that we have done within our own Empire. As much as I hate this we’ll have to bring their Nobility into our own Hall of Lords. Only we’ll limit their actual power on their home planets. The same way we have done for our own High Families.” Maiha said thoughtfully. “Hopefully we won’t be facing an open rebellion in a few years.”

“So long as we restrict their military to a National Defense Force I doubt we’ll have that problem. In many ways the average citizen for the Gorgonzola Empire will have more rights under our system than under the old system.” Terresa grunted.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a HQ runner. “Excuse me sire. Urgent message from General Keller on the Eastern Front.”

“What’s the message private?” Maiha asked.

“To the Commander of the Western Front. The Cheesehead Eastern front has fallen. Capture of the King of Spades confirmed. We own the Eastern Continent. Empress Maiha you own one bottle of bourbon. End of message.” The private said as he read off the paper in his hands.

“Well, damn. I was hoping that General Guy Philippon would at least died in battle. Oh well. If Thomas Keller was able to capture that monkey nut he and his people deserve a fifth of bourbon from my personal stock.” Maiha grumbled as James and Terresa chuckled at her bitching. James then held out his hand to his mother and coughed. “I know, I know. I’ll have to pay you later damn it.”

“Just remember I told you not to take General Keller up on that bet, mom. Outside of you he’s the only officer to ever hand me my ass in a poker game.” James chuckled.

“What about me?” Maiha asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You don’t count. You’re my mom and the Dowager Empress.” James snarked.

A second runner approached them at a dead run. “Sire, we have three Special Operations Teams approaching the TOC. Call signs for two for the teams is Fallen Angels and Black Saints. First Lord Malcom is requestion your presence.”

“Looks like our wayward children have decided to come in from the cold.” Maiha chuckled as she looked over at James. “I hope like hell you have reviewed their latest combat updates James. Those two teams have done more to win this battle than any other force on Apollo six.”

“Trust me mother. This is one time that even I’m having problems with what awards to present those men and women.” James answered as he headed for the Tactical Operations Command post for the 1st Death Dealer Battlegroup.

Sentry Post 1, 1st Death Dealer TOC

Sergeant William Stokes looked at the rag-tag group of 2 CIQ1R Cyclones, 2 VR2-SC2 Firebrand, and 4 MT-350 Tomahawks with real confusion. AS they pulled to a stop in front of his position Stokes wanted to chuckle. He watched as the gunners for the Cyclones and Firebrands kept their hands away from their weapons. As he walked towards them he could tell that each member of these teams needed showers, shaves, and a hot meal. “Looks like you bunch have been running and gunning nonstop for days there Sergeant. Unit ID and call signs.”

“We’re what’s left of the Fallen Angels and Black Saints, First Special Operations Group, Sergeant. Authentication is Hell’s Fury.” Iceman told him sadly as he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb towards the Tomahawks. “Our Team CO is back there with three civilians on the Tomahawks.”

“Thank you Sergeant. Wait here until I verify your unit ID with your CO.” Sergeant Stokes waved to Iceman and headed towards the rear of the formation and the speeders. As he neared them one of the riders removed his helmet. Stokes was taken back by the young man’s appearance. He had seen young men pushed the edge before, but this young man had the 1000-yard stare in Spades. “Wind walkers.”

“Linebacker.” Robert answered coldly. “Warrant Officer Wolff with the Fallen Angels, First Special Operations Group. Where can I get some hot chow, a refuel, resupply, and eight hours of sleep Sergeant?”

“Care to explain why you’re tell end Charlie sir?” Stokes asked him.

“First in, last out, Sergeant.” Robert chuckled giving the Sergeant the old line about officers always being the first one on the battlefield and the last ones off.

“Okay sir. The POL point is over by the KV-twelve Electronic Warfare unit. For resupply you need to head over to the far side of the compound. As for chow the mobile field chow hall is in the center. You can get showered over at the relief center before heading for the chow line. As for find a place to bed down for eight hours of sleep. You can put your team between the R1-8B Lancer and B1-4D Rhino.” Stokes knew that he was close to overstepping his authority but from the look on the Warrant Officer’s face he didn’t care. This team had gone through hell.

“Thanks Sergeant.” Robert said before putting his helmet back on and giving the signal to move out. Thankfully Iceman had stepped back to hear the directions to the refuel and resupply points.

Fallen Angel Team

“Tell me something Ripper. What was that Sergeant’s problem with us reporting in?” Spider asked of his old friend.

“We’re coming in out of the cold, Spider. I was hoping to find a battalion or regimental TOC. At division TOC at the most for our resupply.” I answered with an honest chuckle. “Not the Death Dealer Battlegroup TOC.”

“Wow! This is the main headquarters for the whole damned show.” Spider looked around as they road through the compound. “Never thought I’d live to see the day when a bum like me would be among the big boys like this.”

“You EARNED your place here Spider.” I almost snarled. “Do let any of these guys tell you fracking otherwise.”

“I don’t know bro. I mean these guys are all Death Dealers. I’m just a street gangster from Goulcrest that knows how to fight.” Spider told me. I could tell that he was trying to downplay is part in the fight for Goulcrest.

“Spider of all the gang leaders in Goulcrest you were the linchpin in the coalition that freed our city. Make no mistake about that, young man. It wasn’t my officers or the other resistance fighters that led that fight. It was the gangs, and you were their leader in more ways than one. If it hadn’t been for you and the Demon Pistols shit would have been a fracking lot harder.” Captain Wallace corrected him.

“He’s telling you the truth Spider. I’ve been in the game for far longer than I care to admit. I’ve seen them come and go on more planets than most. You are a true leader. One of the best. If you applied yourself you could actually make a fairly decent political leader of the people.” Blackjack told honestly not that I would know. After all I’m just like him in many ways. We’re both from the same mean fracking streets and crossed knuckles more than once. Then again there was one major deference between the two of us. Spider wasn’t the leader of the Demon Pistols for nothing. He knew how to play the political game. I didn’t.

As we pulled into the POL point we let the FAVs go first. I knew for a fact that the four of them were running on fumes. They had used the last of their fuel cans yesterday and were nearing the maximum end of their fuel range. Our four speeders weren’t in much better shape. Their hydrogen fuel cells were nearing the end of their lifespan and would need replacement before we headed out again. I lead Wallace, Blackjack, and Spider over to the TB-78 Goat all-wheel drive heavy transport that would be carrying replacement cells. I just hope they had fuel cells that would fit our Tomahawks.

“Can I help you?” Asked a bored young Corporal as she stepped up to my speeder. When she pinged my AI for ID she quickly corrected her attitude. “Sorry, sir.”

“Forget about it Corporal. I hope you got fuel cells to fit our Tomahawks?” I asked.

“I’m not sure sir. I know that we have fuel cells for the MT-four-fifties. Will those work?” She asked politely.

“They should. Both machines used the same fuel cell.” Then I chuckled as I shutdown the engine and dismounted. “Or they should according to the manuals.”

The Corporal gave me a funny look then started to chuckle. Her chuckle turned to gasps of surprise as we pulled the fuel cells from the Tomahawks. “Sweet mothers of Mary, and Joseph. Holy shit sir those cells are damned near burned out. How long you been running on those babies?”

“For a few days now. Been recharging them where and when we can at civilian recharge stations. Before you say anything Corporal. Those were our only choices. We didn’t have any portable recharges or replacement cells.” I told her honestly.

“Well, I’ll give you four replacement cells and rechargers. If the Supply Sergeant gets on my ass I’ll just inform him that you guys lost them in combat.” The Corporal giggled. “It’ll twist his tit. Big time. He hates having to reissue because of combat losses. The man is a real nut buster over things like that.”

“Give him a break Corporal. Your Supply Sergeant has to count for every nut, bolt, screw, and can of oil in his inventory. Something gets lost and it’s his ass.” I told her with a real smile.

“Yes sir. Though I do have to wonder why you’re missing the rechargers and spare fuel cells.” I could tell that she really did want to know the reason.

“Never had them in the first place. These babies were liberated from the impound yard of the Cheesehead High Command. Kind ‘a had to go with what we had, Corporal.” Captain Wallace told her with a wicked grin.

“Um… sir. Why is yours the only IFF that I’m picking up for you four?” She asked.

“That’s because the Warrant Officer is the Death Dealer here. Me and the old man are civilian advisors. While the little lady is something else entirely above your paygrade. Just do yourself a favor. Have the boss man sign for everything and then forget we were ever here.” Spider told her with a wicked chuckle of his own.

“Okay. Whatever makes your world go round I guess.” The Corporal said as she climbed into the back end of her TB-78. A few minutes later she tossed down four P-38 rechargers and the extra fuel cells. “These should take care of everything sir.”

I took them from her and handed them out to the others. When she jumped down she had a tablet in her hand. “I need your signature sir.”

I signed and handed it back to her. “Thanks Corporal. Now if you’ll excuse us.”

I remounted my Tomahawk and fired over the engine. I looked over at the rest of my team to see that they were also refueled and ready to roll. Not only had they filled their main tanks but their reserve cans as well. I know that both the CIQ1R Cyclone, and the VR2-SC2 Firebrand have fuel ranges of 800 miles per tankful. The downside to that fuel economy is their lack of armor. They’re basically four-wheel versions of the Tomahawks. Fast, light, and deadly.

As we pulled into the position that the SOG at the checkpoint had assigned us I couldn’t help but chuckle. The R1-8B Lancer and B1-4D Rhino bookend a ten-foot-tall berm. In short we would be protected from direct fire weapons. At least ground based weapons of that nature. The Lancer and Rhino were more than enough protection against aerospace and ground attack fighters. At 80tns each they’re almost the perfect Fire Support APS units to provide ADA fire. I was slightly surprised when a young man walked up to Blackjack.

“It’s been a while there Blackjack. Where’s the rest of your team?” He asked her.

“It has been a long time Duce. Too long really.” Blackjack answered him with a great deal of sadness in her voice. “I’m all that’s left of the Pit Vipers.”

“Damn. Sorry to hear that Blackjack. I can’t believe that Copperhead finally bought the farm. Hard to fracking believe that anybody could ever get the drop on him. Let alone the rest of the Vipers. What happened?” Duce asked her.

“A whole lot of shit is what happened Double Duce. Most of my people were either nailed by Brownshirts with heavy ordnance or self-destructed to prevent capture.” Blackjack tapped the side of her head. “I got their memories in my backup hard drive. You got somewhere I can download them?”

“Come with me. I figured you’re pushing the limits of your chassis as is it.” Double Duce told her as he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. He had given her body the once over. Taking in the condition of her synthetic skin and slump of her shoulders. “Got a Turbidity Cleanser, Surface Chamber, and recharge station in the S-2 Intelligence Goliath. From the looks of it you could used the works. When was the last time you flushed, resurfaced, and recharged?”

“More than ten days ago. Before you take my head off boss. I didn’t have much choice in the matter.” Blackjack leaned in close to him. “This room is too small.”

“Care to introduce me to your friend here Blackjack?” I asked her as I joined the two of them holding out my hand to the man. “Warrant Office Robert Wolff, call sign Ripper. I take it you’re Blackjack’s boss?”

“In a way you could say that Ripper. I’m the Section chief for this area of the Empire. They call me Double Duce. Mainly because of the last two numbers of my service number.” Double Duce told me.

“Blackjack go get yourself taken care of. We won’t be moving out for at least eight to ten hours. I don’t care what the fracking brass wants. This team is on standdown until we get something hot in bellies, eight hours of sack time, and a full resupply. We’ve been pushing shit for far too long.” I told her as I looked over at what was the last of the two teams that had hit this rock with me. Out of a 14-member strike team I was down to 9 members not counting myself. There was nothing that I could have done that would have changed the outcome of those losses. “Any else?”

“If you’re Warrant Office Wolff then you’re needed up at the TOC ASAP. The bosses want a word with and whoever is in charge of your team.” Double Duce told me bluntly as he pointed towards the T-98 Mobil Command Post.

“Yeah well they can fracking wait until me and my people shit, shower, shave, eat, and bed down for eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.” I snarled and looked over at Captain Wallace and Spider. “That includes the two civies. Now frack off.”

“Sorry Ripper, but you really need to report in. I’ll have one of my people take care of your people.” Double Duce told me straight faced.

“Iceman get our people showered and feed. It seems that the bosses want a debrief on what the frack we’ve been doing for the last few months.” I yelled out.

“Gotcha Ripper.” Iceman called back with a wave of his arm. “Cover your six in there boss. They’re going to want someone’s ass over what went down with this drop.”

“Thanks for the warning Iceman. Not that I needed it.” I chuckled as I turned and headed for the Battlegroup’s command post.

T-98 Goliath MCP, 1st Death Dealer Battlegroup.

James, Terresa, Maiha, and Alice stood inside the T-98 waiting patiently for the arrival of Combat Arms Warrant Office Robert Wolff. AKA the Whitechapel Ripper. James looked over at Maiha. “Tell me something mom. Do you really believe that this Warrant Officer was the main factor behind the Cheesehead defeat in Goulcrest?”

“If there is one thing that I know is this, James. The reports of the gangs and cops of Goulcrest working together in Goulcrest are true. That being said there is only one Operative in the two teams we sent in that could have pulled it off.” Maiha turned towards the rear ramp of the Goliath. “That is your cousin.”

“But he’s nothing more than a street rat that got lucky in Q-course.” James snarked. “There is no way he could have organized the gangs and the cops the way those reports out of Goulcrest read. He would have to be some kind of political genius.”

“A word of advice my son. Don’t ever disparage your cousin’s abilities.” Alice snarled. “Never forget that your great grandfather came from those very same streets and was just as much a street rat as your cousin Robert Wolff.”

The warning was as clear as the night sky for James. In many ways he had forgotten that James J. Owens Sr. was born to a commoner’s house. He was brought up on the legends of the man that even Death Dealers called Death and Death’s Own Daughter. The two most feared and respected of Death Dealers in all of the Empire. He was also one of the few who knew that they were both the same person. James also knew that there was a great deal about his mother Maiha’s past he still did not know. His was saved from having to confront his feelings of inadequacy by the appearance of the very man they were discussing.

“Speak his name and he shall appear.” Maiha chuckled as the young man in question walked up the rear rampway. Maiha didn’t wait for the rest of the command staff to recognize him. She just walked up to him holding out her hand. “Welcome back from the cold cousin. You and your team must have played marry hell with the Cheeseheads.”

“We had our fun Empress. Thought we cannot take all the credit. As you know the good people of Apollo six hate unexpected visitors.” Robert chuckled.

“So, it would seem. I had a very interesting conversation with one of the captured Cheesehead commanders. Did you know that they have a very unflattering nickname for your resistance cells?” Maiha asked with a sideways smile.

“Not really. Not that I care either way. They could call the people in those cells anything they want. It wouldn’t change a thing.” Robert chuckled.

“Oh, I doubt that Mister Wolff. It seems that in the minds of the Cheeseheads. The people of your resistance cells are thugs, thieves, murders, rapists, drug dealers, and just about every other type of criminal known to man. Why he even went so far as to call them the Devil’s own Bastards.” Alice chuckled as Robert grimaced. “They have a lot of names for you cousin. None of them very flattering.”

“I can’t take all the credit. Sure me, the cops, and the gangs of Goulcrest played with them until they broke and ran for the hills. You also know that the Black Saints turned a small group of Wilderness Scouts into a crack SpecOps team. One that played unholy hell with the Cheesehead supply lines at every turn. The rest of the Fallen Angles virtually turned the enter Lineberry region into a deathtrap for any Cheesehead unit that dared to enter that area.” Robert figured that he should be up front with the Royals. He wasn’t going to take the credit for the work that the rest of the team had done on their own.

“We don’t doubt that Mister Wolff. Though it was your work with the people of Goulcrest that was the true resistance during this occupation. I know that your team deserves more than a little R-n-R but we’re in need critical Intel.” Alice told him sadly as she waved for Robert to join her at the holo-tank. “As you can see our next objective is Goulcrest and the spaceport there. What can you tell us about the units between where we are now and there?”

“There might be a mixed bag of units equaling a full Brigade or light Regiment in size between us and Goulcrest, your Majesty. The Cheeseheads pulled everything they had from the cities and surrounding areas to stop your advance. That’s if there are any left for you to worry about. The gangs and cops of Goulcrest are currently hunting down the stragglers in hunter-killer teams of two NV-two-G Fury Reconnaissance Cars and one BR-one-ten BEARS.” Robert told the gathered Royals and Death Dealer Commanders with a nasty chuckle. “If the reports that Captain Wallace has been getting from his people are even halfway accurate. We should have a clean run straight into Goulcrest with only minor engagements. Mostly the lone fanatical holdout. Either way it’s a twenty-seven-hour march to Goulcrest.”

“How many lone holds are we looking at? What types of holdouts are talking about? The straggler that fell to the side of the road because of mechanical breakdown or the fanatical follower with a death wish.” James asked him quickly.

“Depends sire. If I had to guess. I would say that it’ll most likely be a mix of the two. The resistance was able to tag the most fanatical of units that landed. That the good news. The bad news most of them were frontline troops that headed out from the spaceport the second they unloaded from their transports. There were a few REMF units that came through that fit the diehard fanatic levels. They were used to quail the resistance in most places. Most of those got torn up by the look resistance. Especially in Goulcrest. It seems that the local gangs have a very dim outlook on people killing their neighbors for no good reason.” Robert snarled then chuckled evilly.

“At least that worthless cock bite Grayson Vanderbilt is no longer a problem for the Empire. We saw the remains of House of Parliament, and the Government Center. No one could walk away from whatever hit that place.” James grunted.

“You’re wrong sire. Vanderbilt did survive. He’s currently a guest of the Demon Pistols in Goulcrest.” Robert chuckled evilly.

“What?! Vanderbilt is still alive!” James demanded of Robert in shock. “HOW?!”

“That worthless piece of shit wasn’t near the old House of Parliament when it was nailed by the Cheeseheads. He was at his estate in the country when the assault force came in. They took out most of the Parliament with that one attack. Vanderbilt and two other Reps survived. Simply because they weren’t in the Parliament apartments. The other two survivors are Jennifer Julian and Danial Gentry. Only Jennifer Julian is worth going after. Gentry is a worthless slug right next to Vanderbilt. Though if the reports are true Gentry bought the farm just before you made planetfall. I know that Julian is still alive because the gangs in Ivory Lynx protected her.” Robert told James bluntly.

“How far is it to Ivory Lynx?” Alice demanded.

“Two days forced march by ground, six hours by air-assault shuttle, three hours by dropship. Either way it won’t matter. That whole region was liberated four days before you landed. Mostly thanks to Jennifer Julian’s leadership of the local resistance. If you want to save anyone I suggest you head directly for Goulcrest.” Robert told them all.

“Who are we going to save?” Katsumi asked with a sly grin.

“A young lady I made a promise to. I always keep my fracking promises Reverend Mother. Not even death will keep me from fulfilling this one.” With that Robert turned and headed for the exit. He stopped just before leaving the T-98 and looked over his shoulder at the gathered Royals. “Just like my great uncle.”

James looked over at his mother Maiha as Combat Arms Warrant Officer Robert Wolff left the TOC. “What the hell does that mean mom?”

“That come hell or highwater Robert Wolff will always come home.” Maiha answered with a heavy sigh. “Filling a thousand body bags if he has to.”

“Tell me something Maiha. Is he truly as deadly as yourself?” Alice asked her.

“Trust me when I say there goes the only Death Dealer to ever challenge either of my legends.” The note of utter defeat in Maiha’s voice spoke far more than her words. “The Whitechapel Ripper has done what no other Death Dealer could. I fear that the ‘Man called Death’ truly has a successor. One who is worthy of the name. He is a warrior that is even tougher, meaner, and deadlier. I cry over the price he had to pay for that title. I cry for his loss of humanity. His enemies shall know and fear his name. It shall become Number One with a bullet. His name will be legion, and it will be Death. There will be no escape from this fate for him now. All we can do is stand as witnesses to the birth of his legend and pray.”

“And just what would you have us pray for, kōhai?” Katsumi asked of Maiha.

“Pray that one day Warrant Officer Robert Wolff finds peace.” Maiha sighed. “Before he loses his life on the battlefield.”

“I have a feeling mother that the day our cousin crosses the River Styx. He will be in the company of more than a few souls of his enemies. He’ll also spit in the eye of the Ferryman with a relish unlike any other.” James told his mother with a chuckle that held no hummer. “He’ll live up to that old saying about Death Dealers. In more ways than just one.”

“You may very well be right about that James.” Maiha sighed as she looked out the rear of the T-98. “For now, I suggest we plan on following his suggestion and head for Goulcrest. Give the order to move out ten hours from now. I want us to be in Goulcrest no later than eighteen-hundred tomorrow.”

“Understood ma’am.” James said as he saluted his mother. He turned to the gathered commanders of the 1st Death Dealer Battlegroup. “You heard the Empress. Time to finish this fracking mess people.”

Northern Continent, Western Hemisphere, San Vitruvio, Gorgonzola Empire
22nd Death Dealer Battlegroup T-98 TOC

Lady Saris Victoria stood quietly looking down at the holo-tank in the center of the Goliath T-98 Mobile Command Post. The 18 combat divisions of her battlegroup had hit San Vitruvio with a vengeance. They weren’t alone. The 120 Empyreal Army combat divisions of her taskforce had broken down into 6 Combined Arms armies. Those 138 divisions were ripping the very heart out of the Gorgonzola Planetary Defense Forces of San Vitruvio. Over the last three days they decimated 9 heavy armor divisions, 8 Armored Power Suit divisions, 18 Armored Infantry divisions, 24 Light Infantry divisions, and 26 aerospace fighter Wings.

When she gave the order to destroy every last military unit on San Vitruvio she hadn’t expected her commanders to take that order to the limit. If it could be used for military purposes they destroyed it utterly. Manufacturing plants, power plants, communication terminals, if it could be used to support the Cheesehead war efforts it was destroyed. The soldiers of the San Vitruvio PDF were given a choice. Surrender or die. That was their only choice. Only the civilians were left alone by her invading forces.

“How much longer until our advanced guard hits the outer limits of Arco dei Gavi, General Lucas?” Saris asked of the nearest commander.

“Fourteen to eighteen hours at the most, Lady Saris. The second combat team is pushing hard. The first and third combat teams are sweeping wide to engage the enemy’s flank units. We should have the capital surrounded in twenty-six hours. The six combined arms armies are even now sweeping aside the last of the resistance forces of the San Vitruvio PDF. The only thing between our Combat Divisions and the Capital is the city’s own defenders.” General Lucas answered honestly with a savage smile.

“Have they pulled back within the city limits yet?” Saris asked coldly trying to hide her worry over a worse case scenario. She really wanted to avoid a battle within a city. She had even given orders to avoid pitched city battle to all of her commanders. So far that order had been followed. Thankfully most of the San Vitruvio PDF commanders had felt the same way.

“If the orbital scans are accurate. The defenders of Arco dei Gavi are taking up positions around the outer city limits. They’ve setup their defenses in a triple layer ring-defense.” Lucas told her as he looked over at the Colonel in charge of Intelligence. “Colonel Stills what have you learned from those POWs?”

“A great deal sir. It seems that the LARS-D teams were able capture one of the defense commanders. The outer zone or zone one as they call it is covered by fixed direct fire artillery emplacements, MLRS targeted impact zones, heavy antiaircraft guns, and landmines. Zone two’s boundary is marked by a multiple rows of concertina wire stacked four high and five deep. On the other side of this fence is an area covered by ninety-millimeter chain gun lasers with interlocking fields of fire. That is not the only surprise in that zone. There are tower mounted one-twenty-five PPCs every two-thousand meters. The final ring is nothing more than a nonstop kill box. Bunkered tanks, anti-APS guns, heavy lasers, man portable PPCs, IFVs, you name it. Just behind the inner most ring are the MLRS and mobile artillery units. Those are all just inside the city limits.” Colonel Stills explained as he read from a printout. “In short Lady Saris. The whole area surrounding Arco dei Gavi is one nonstop heavy fortification.”

“Damn. Looks like we’ll have to order a Rolling Thunder to break their lines. Have Admiral Cosby send in his Corvettes, and Frigates. Order her to concentrate their firepower on this area to the south of the capital city.” Saris ordered as she placed her finger on the area in question.

“Consider it done, Lady Saris. I have no desire to hit those lines without a shit ton of preparation bombardment.” Her XO snarked. “That is some nasty defensive fortifications surrounding that city.”

“All the reason more to blast it from space. I say we have the Katsumi nail the place with a mass driver attack. Four or five KK rounds and the city will be leveled. No need to put our troops in harm’s way trying to free a bunch of Cheesehead civilians. Secure them and their so-called cock sucking worthless Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana.” Said General Dale Strom from the 19th Death Dealer Heavy Armored Division.

“Dale we’ve had this conversion before. Orbital bombardment is off the table per orders from the Emperor. We’re trying to liberate the people of the Gorgonzola Empire. Not destroy them to the last man or woman. They’re innocent of their leader’s crimes. That doesn’t mean the soldiers who are manning those defensive weapons will be shown any mercy.” Saris snarled at the one man in her command that had been giving her the most grief. “You go bucking the chain of command again. I’ll see you in a Circle of Equals.”

“If that’s what you want, Lady Saris. I’d say it’s high time for a change in command. Once you’re out of the way we’ll pull back to our dropships and leave this rock. Once in orbit we’ll drop a seven-forty core cracker. Ending the threat of the Gorgonzola Empire once and for all. No need to spill any more Death Dealer blood over these worthless pigs.” Stills snarled as he pulled his combat knife from its sheath on his hip.

Lady Saris just sighed and shook her head. The crack of the gunshot echoed through the T-98’s Command room. No one was paying attention to the 22nd Battlegroup’s XO as he drew his sidearm. With less than a tenth of a second Stills never had a chance to deploy his bio-armor. Not that it would have done him any good. Lieutenant General Mike Deveron had come up through the Infantry Officer Ranks. His single shot slammed home in the back of Stills’ head just below the base of his skull. Snipers have a term for the placement of shots like this. They called it disconnecting the computer. For one simple reason. It was truly a one shot, one kill hit.

“Anyone else want to get stupid?” Mike snarled at the remaining commanders.

“Mike put that away will you?” Saris sighed then looked at her remaining General Staff Officers. “On second thought keep it out Mike. Davenport you got something to say. How about you Steadman? Or you Rockwell. Do any of you feel like facing me on the sands? This is your last chance.”

When no one spoke up Saris chuckled. “Put it away Mike. I think they finally got the drift. Let’s get this party moving. I want the head of Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana on a stake by this time tomorrow.”

“YES MA’AM! DEATH IS DEALT BY OUR HANDS!” The gather Generals called out as one. In years to come when Lady Saris Victoria sat back in her beach chair drinking chilled alcoholic drinks looking out over the deep blue waters on the ocean world of Cayo Hueso at her retirement home. It would be this moment that would bring a small smile of satisfaction. A time when good men and women stood in the face of evil and refused to back down from the fight.

She did the only thing she could in response to her Command Staff’s battle cry. “RING THE BELLS OF HELL DEATH DEALERS!”

Royal Bunker below the Palace, Arco dei Gavi

Exalted Supreme High Chancellor Innocenzo Juliana could only sit and stair at the vid-screen of his world. With each pasting moment the blue that represented his forces slowly gave way to the red of the invading Empyreal Forces. All of the Eastern Hemisphere was a deep crimson red along with the Southern Continent of the Western Hemisphere. Even here on the Northern Continent only a small part of his once mighty empire remained. An area of no more than 58 square miles. From hundreds of star systems to little more than his capital city.

Gone were the millions of soldiers that once valiantly defended his empire. Only fanatically devout old men and young boys dreaming of glory remained between him and the advancing Death Dealer battlegroup. Even this force of hastily gather defenders was being commanded by his highest-ranking military officers. He had Green Star Generals acting as frontline company commanding officers.

“Damnation how could it all have gone so wrong?” Juliana sighed heavily.

“What was that dear?” Empress Marisha Juliana asked him.

Innocenzo looked over at his wife as she stood in the doorway to his war room. “Nothing dear. Just complaining to the gods.”

“It does no good to complain to the gods and goddesses Innocenzo. They refuse to hear the words of us poor mortals. No matter how worthy we are of their attention in times such as these.” Marisha grunted as she walked into the room. She looked at the vid-screen and sighed herself. “Is that truly all that is left?”

“I whish that it weren’t. Sadly, the Human Empire hit our planet with a military force that was almost three times our original number.” Innocenzo looked over at her and asked one more time. “Marisha will you please take the escape ship? The Empire is lost. It is not too late for you to escape to one of the Outer Rim systems that haven’t fallen to the Human Empire.”

“Our children are already gone Innocenzo. My place is here by your side.” Marisha said with a wistful tone of sadness in her voice. “No matter how this war ends.”

The rumble of warship engines overhead ended any further discussion of Marisha leaving the planet by dropship. Marisha gave her husband a soft look. “From the sounds of if Innocenzo. The Golden Hawk would never get off the ground before being blasted from the skies. Those were the first of the Death Dealer warships to fly through our airspace, and they won’t be the last.”

The sounds of Naval PPCs, PPLs, Railguns, and autocannons could be heard next. Even thirty feet underground. The next things the Royal Couple knew plaster dust was fallen down from the celling thanks to the impact vibrations of those power weapons. They may be more than 25mls away, but their impact was still being felt in their bunker. They could only imagine what those weapons were doing to the city’s defensive works as they rained down.

“It seems our time as rulers is almost at an end love. The Death Dealers will be at the gates within the day. Our only hope now is the citizens of our great city. Though I doubt they’ll put up much of a resistance. They’ll be untrained foolish amateurs fighting against battle hardened professionals of the first order. It would be best if they died in their sleep.” Innocenzo grunted.

Before Marisha could correct her husband the main doors to their bunker were smashed inward. Even before the smoke and dust could settle twenty-five heavily armed men rushed into the main portion of the bunker. As Innocenzo and Marish were pulling themselves off the floor the sound of gunfire echoed through the bunker. Innocenzo instinctively threw Marisha back down to the floor and covered her with his own body. For ten minutes the screams of dying men and automatic gunfire could be heard throughout the bunker. There was even a few explosions that rocked the heavily fortified bunker.

Innocenzo knew that some of those explosions came from the new Mark-9 Panzerfaust antiarmor rockets and P-57B1 antipersonnel fragmentation grenades. When the last shot was fired seven men entered the war room. Innocenzo took one look at their uniforms and weapons. He knew that there would be no reasoning with these men. They were here to end his life in the slim hope of end the war before the Death Dealers entered the city massacring everyone before them.

One man stepped in front of the others. He along with every other soldier there was dressed in the uniform for the Royal Praetorian Guard. He pulled a sheet of paper from his coat pocket and began to read aloud. Innocenzo and Marisha realized far too late that there would be no reasoning with these men. Nor would there be any chance of escaping their fates at the hands of these warriors.

“Innocenzo Juliana you are found guilty of High Treason against the people of the Gorgonzola Empire. You are hereby sentenced to death. You are to be drawn and quartered at the foot of the palace steps. Marisha Juliana you are found guilty of Political Indifference to the suffering of the people of the same Empire. Your sentence is one thousand years in a Clear-plex Crystal in suspended animation to be put on display in the Government Square. Captain take them away.”

While he was reading from the paper the other six Praetorian Guards were busy securing Innocenzo and Marisha. Their arms were bound behind their backs with heavy cord at the wrist and elbow. The former Royal Couple were gaged the blindfolded before a think black bag was pulled over their heads. To insure that they couldn’t run their ankles were fitted with old fashioned iron shackles with a twenty-inch chain running between the cuffs.

Once secured the now condemned couple were led from the one place they believed to be totally safe for the outside world. As they were dragged through the bunker they did not see the dead bodies of the remaining Royal Advisors and Military High Command. Only the servants were spared the bloody blade of vengeful justice.

Office of the Grand War Commander, Ministry of Defense.

Grand War Commander Jules Gavreau was looking at the same view the vid-screen in his office when the door was thrown open by a young private. “Sir I have an urgent message from Major Faust. Freyja’s daughter has collected her rightful due. The Valkyrie rides with the Goddess.”

Gavreau looked over at the young man and asked. “Are you sure that is what the message reads private? Are those the exact words?”

“Yes sir.” The private nodded his head and pulled the paper with the message from his pocket. He read aloud what was printed there. “TO Grand War Commander Jules Gavreau. FROM Major Peter Faust Second Battalion, Praetorian Guards, First Royal Palace Detachment. Freyja’s daughter has collected her rightful due. The Valkyrie rides with the Goddess. End of message sir.”

“Thank the gods we have a chance to save our city now. Take this message to General Cluster in sector three.” Gavreau order the private as he pulled a sealed envelope from the center draw of his desk. “You’re to place this in his hands only private. I don’t care what anyone else says. His hands only understand?”

“Yes sir. What should I do if someone tries to stop me?” The young man asked.

“You have my permission to shoot anyone who gets in your way. Now get going.” The private didn’t ask any more questions. He just took the letter and hauled ass out of the last remaining Command post for the Empire. With his instructions to Cluster on the way Gavreau leaned back in his chair. He closed his and prayed. “God speed your feet and send his angels to guard your path, private. Amen. Wither you know it or not private. In your hands is our last chance at saving the city from total destruction.”

“Sir, that message the private just delivered. Was it about Operation Valkyrie?” Gavreau’s aid asked as he walked into his office closing the door behind him.

“It was. Within the next two hours Juliana and that whore wife of his will no longer be an obstruction to our surrender. Two hours from now ex-Emperor Innocenzo will be dead. While the ex-Empress Marisha will spend the next one thousand years in a Clear-plex suspended animation crystal put on public display in the Government Square for her part in Innocenzo’s crimes.” Gavreau snarled. Unlike most people he knew that once Marisha was placed into the Clear-plex she would die within the hour. “May they both face ten-thousand deaths in Hell.”

“Sir is there any chance of someone coming to their rescue?”

“The only people who will come to that pair’s rescue are the Death Dealers.” Gavreau chuckled evilly. He knew better than anyone else what happened to the other supporters of Juliana. Over the last eight hours each and every one of them had been given a choice. Death by their own hand or 1000 years incased in Clear-plex put on display in the Government Square. Only two had taken the last option. “Speaking of those deadly men and women. They should be here within the next day or so. Let’s just hope that Cluster can work out a peaceful surrender.”

“And if they refuse to accept our surrender, sir?”

“Then pray that we can hold them long enough to evacuate the city of civilians. Because they’re going to crash this palace flat and the surrounding city with it.” Gavreau answered his aid honestly. “You want to know what our greatest mistake was in this war Lieutenant.”

“Yes sir. I know that we made quite a few mistakes. Though I would have to say that underestimating Emperor James’ anger was the biggest.”

“Oh that is only our second biggest mistake. The biggest mistake we made was trying to capture and hold the planet of Apollo six.” Gavreau chuckled at the look of confusion that crossed the Lieutenant’s face. “There is a reason senior field commanders call that planet the Devil’s Graveyard. The people of that planet have a nasty habit of killing whole armies on their own. Of the last seven expeditionary taskforces we sent in only one has come back as a whole. The rest barely made it off that rock as a combat effective force.”

“Just who are these people sir?”

“Let me put it like this Lieutenant. That planet gave birth to the deadliest of Death Dealers. A man that even we respected and feared. If you were to ask a common Death Dealer about the man. They would tell you that he is Death himself.” Gavreau picked up the last report from Apollo six. “And if this report is accurate. There now a new Death Dealer that matches that long dead warrior. One that should be feared and respected even more because he has made a deal with the devil at midnight. One that’s a true Grim Reaper. They call him the Whitechapel Ripper.”

-----tbc-----