Waking in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 2)

by D Patrick Wagner

  “I did find what I think are weapons in two of the cabins and the meeting area.” This from Doctor Roshnak.”

  “There are two weapons in my quarters. I will gladly turn them over to your bodyguard.”

  Rising slowly, walking carefully, he exited the bridge and entered the captain’s quarters, stopping at the door. Mahajani followed him the whole way, just out of reach but close enough to attack.

  “That rectangular box.” Krag pointed to the nightstand next to his bed. “It is called a ‘nightstand’. The top drawer. There is a kinetic weapon, what we call a pistol in there. It discharges high-velocity metal pellets. I’m going to walk over, open the drawer and step back. You can then come in and take it.”

  Krag did what he said he’d do. With the drawer open, the giant Elonian walked over and looked in. seeing the strange weapon in some kind of animal skin case, he lifted it out and studied the contraption.

  “The case is called a ‘holster’. It attaches to a waist belt for easy access.”

  Mahajani figured out the restraining strap, popped the snap and, with two furry fingers, gingerly pulled out the weapon.

  “If you discharge it in here, it will hole the ship. Your are holding the grip.” Pointing, Krag continued, “That curved metal lever, inside the loop, is used to fire the weapon. The long piece on the top is the barrel. The pellet is discharged through the barrel’s pathway.”

  Mahajani carefully slid the pistol back into its holster, re-snapped the strap and continued to hang on to it.

  “There is also a large knife under the pillow, that white fluffy object on the bed, sleeping space.”

  Mahajani lifted the pillow and saw the knife, within its sheath. He showed more enthusiasm with this weapon, picking it up, pulling it from its scabbard and twirled it, feigned cutting motions, flipped it and generally showed his expertise.

  “This is a good blade. Good balance.”

  “A gift. I give it to you as a show of my gratefulness.”

  “I can’t take it. I am my Princess’s bodyguard. It would color my duty to protect her from you.”

  “Oh. Ok. Take the knife back to the Princess. Give it to her. As a show of good faith from me.”

  Sir Mahajani kept the knife and gun. Krag changed into a set of captain’s clothes, complete with boots and head cover. He made sure that he stripped down to complete nakedness, allowing the Elonian bodyguard a full view of what a human male’s external physiology looked like. No secrets. While he did this he came to an uncomfortable realization. He wasn’t getting out of this. Especially without help. He had a busted ship. A busted ship now resting in the bowels of a giant alien ship. And, even with a repaired ship, he probably couldn’t make it home. Besides, he couldn’t leave his team, his friends, stuck in sleep forever.

  With a large sigh, he made up his mind. He knew that, if these aliens, these Elonians, wanted to, they could seize the ship, his people. They could change this whole situation from one of dialogue to one of captor/prisoner. He had to avoid that at all costs. He needed to keep his people and ship safe.

  The two returned to the bridge. Sir Mahajani, with eyes down, approached his queen and held out the knife while talking softly. The princess took the weapon, looked at Krag and gave a slight head bow. Krag gave one in return. She handed the knife back to Sir Mahajani, who slipped it into a side pocket of his leather tunica. Still talking softly, Mahajani offered her the pistol. She gently pushed it back at the bodyguard. The pistol followed Krag’s knife.

  “Your Highness. Is that the proper title?”

  “Yes. That is the correct title.”

  “Your Highness. I have three shipmates, my crew on board and I need to retrieve them. Would it be possible that I do that?

  “Retrieve them?” turning to the anthropologist, “Doctor Roshnak, Did you find any other humans on board?”

  “No, My Princess.”

  “Doctor Ganakin, any objections?”

  “If they are unarmed, not dangerous. I see no objections. In fact, it will give us a wider sampling of humans to study.

  “Where are these shipmates and why do they need retrieving?”

  “They are down in the cargo bay, in cryogenic tanks, sleeping. Since our journey was to cover almost five hundred light years, we would spend time in deep sleep, waking in shifts to manage Griffin. It just so happened that I was on shift when you picked us up.”

  “I see no problem. Let’s wake them up. Doctor Ganakin, coming or staying?”

  “I’ll stay. So will Mr. Shukilar.”

  “That would be fine. Dame Srilin, Vidhee, Doctor Roshnak, you need to come with me.” Princess Analyn needn’t invite Sir Mahajani. Wherever she went, he went.

  Dorogon Space

  Vice-Admiral Theodore Millhouse Weiskoff, the Third, raced from his ready room to the bridge upon hearing the call from the captain of the Odin, Captain Brewer.

  “Update, Captain?”

  “The alien ships are breaking out. They’re pouring in through the gate.”

  Turning to his adjunct officer, “Mr. Clark. Our mine fields?”

  Staring at the view of the gate and watching the scrolling data, he answered, “It’s like they don’t care if they die. The mine field destroyed the first wave, over two hundred ships. Some kind of small, armed ship about the size of our patrol ships. That cleared the way for the second wave. Another two hundred followed. It’s like the aliens are using those craft as cannon fodder.”

  “Placement of our fleet?”

  “The three destroyers, Tyr, Forseti, Mani, are facing down the charge. They’re in a vertical triangle, with Tyr at the top-most tip. The two battleships, Njord and Skadi, are in the secondary position with clear lines of fire through the inner triangle space.”

  “Will it hold?”

  “It has so far. We’re destroying their ships piecemeal. Nothing is getting through.”

  “Put it on the main viewer. Time lapse?”

  “Due to the forty-five million miles, approximately eight minutes.”

  The delayed feed of the battle, along with the side panel of data, appeared on the large screen at the fore of the bridge. For a moment, every one of the bridge personnel stopped their tasks and stared.

  “As you were,” Captain Brewer commanded.

  All of the bridge operations men and women snapped back to their tasks and responsibilities.

  “Captain, get us out there,” the Vice-Admiral ordered.

  Captain Brewer nodded to his pilot and the huge dreadnaught began its accellaration towards the battle.

  At that moment, actually eight minutes ago, a gigantic alien vessel, larger than the Odin, passed through the gate and into Dorogon space. The moment the monstrous sphere completed its transition, it fired. A huge volley of torpedoes, energy beams and lasers focused on one destroyer. The Mani’s energy absorbing material withstood the energy and laser beams for a small amount of time. But the alien behemoth succeeded in burning through the outer layer of armour, causing the Mani to leak atmosphere, detritus and people. The torpedoes struck. A spectacular explosion turned the blackness of space into a small star.

  Everyone on the Odin’s bridge froze in shock. Never in the known history of the Federacy, had a front line ship been destroyed. And now the Mani no longer existed, killed by the alien creatures that had attacked, first Yeni Persia and now Dorogon.

  “We can’t stand up to that monster! Pull our ships back!” shouted Vice-admiral Weiskoff. “Get them out of there, back here! And belay the order for the Odin to steam towards the gate!”

  “Captain Brewer knew that what ever was to happen already had happened. But he issued the order to withdraw as commanded.

  The pilot, without orders from his captain, reversed course and directed the Odin back to its geosynchronous orbit around Nyu-Nippon. The captain had no reaction to this breach of protocol. Then he joined everyone else and anxiously watched the main view screen.

  The two remaining destroyers and two battleships furio
usly bombarded the new threat, launching hundreds of torpedoes, firing their own energy beams and lasers and accomplishing nothing. The defensive armament deflected and absorbed everything fired at it. Rapid-fire energy cannons knocked down the torpedoes, frying their components, destroying circuitry.

  After the massive ineffectual barrage, the remaining four human ships turned as one and ran from the alien invaders.

  The Vice-Admiral, the Captain and the entire bridge crew watched this eight-minute time-delayed action.

  Vice-Admiral Weiskoff breathed a sigh of relief at the quick withdrawal. He knew that his order had been a reaction to what he had seen. He knew he had acted emotionally, just for a moment. He resolved not to succumb to that show of weakness again.

  Aboard the Ravage Maker

  The Ravage Maker, War’s flagship, drifted just inside Dorogon space, having previously exited the gate from to its new colony, what the soft skins called ‘New Persia’. What the Mortek now called ‘Nest One’. Between it and the newly invaded space arrayed all but one Mortek fleet. Four fleets totaling four space craft carriers, eight dreadnaught class battle ships, twenty-four cruisers, sixty destroyers, two hundred-forty frigates six hundred attack ships and three thousand assault craft.

  Inside the Ravage Maker, in the main conference room, War sat at the head of the table and admired the majesty of his flotilla, the greatness of his force. His four legs locked magnetically to the deck, his abdomen resting on the stool, his vestigial red wings spread, showing his pleasure.

  “Well done, Flight. Is everything ready for the conquest of this system?”

  “Yes, Sire,” Flight answered, sitting to War’s left. “In review, during the breakthrough of the mine field, we lost three hundred, sixty-three attack ships.”

  “Replacements?”

  “Our manufacturing ship at Nest One is replacing those and the ones we lost during the invasion of the last soft skin star system. Materialist informs me that all fleets will be back to maximum capabilities within twenty-three revolutions of Nest One. However, they should not be needed for the coming battle. Our remaining thirty-seven attack ships will be more than enough to subdue any entrenched defenses on the planet. Against our heavy ships, the soft skin weapons proved to be ineffective against our armor and shields. We are ready and we have nothing to fear, Lord Minister.” Flight’s green wings rose and extended to emphasize his last proclamation.

  War began tapping a single claw on the table, producing a rhythmic clicking. “I want this star system taken now. I do not want more enemy ships arriving before we gain our foothold and block the other gate. We do not know if they have more effective ships or weapons.” He stopped his clicking, gave a final tap, pressing the single claw into the table, as though his strength of will alone would bore a hole.

  “Give me a plan of action,” War demanded.

  Having anticipated this, Flight immediately responded. “Second Fleet paid heavily while destroying the mine field, routing four of the five defensive ships and destroying the fifth. They should be allowed to complete the mission, win the battle. There are only five soft skin ships in the system, four fleeing back to the planet and a larger one held in reserve. I propose we send one dreadnaught, the Despoiler of Planets. Have three cruisers and five destroyers from Second Fleet join as support. We will overwhelm the five remaining ships. Then we launch the assault craft and attack the main planet. While this occurs, two battleships and three destroyers speed to the second gate, seize it and set up a blockade. That flotilla stops or destroys any ships that enter or attempt to exit.”

  “Logistics?”

  “I concur with Flight. The soft skins have not shown any capability to stop us or harm us. We have a sufficient war machine. I have the processors and laborers ready for touchdown. I see no reason to wait.”

  “Intelligence?”

  Our drones and spy ships have reported the same military might as we found in the last system. As before, there is a centralized, heavily fortified base and multiple outlying ones. Flight’s thirty-seven remaining attack ships from Second Fleet will have no problem destroying these fortifications. Also, we’ve located the planet’s seat of government. And there also seems to be another center of power. Our ground assault plan from the previous planet and adding Third Assault team will be quite adequate for this planet. I also concur with Flight. Now is the time to strike.”

  Lord Minister slammed his fisted claw on the table, as though he held the Ruling Orb and paused a moment. "So be it. Attack! Unleash our ships. Smash our enemy.”

  Tolimar

  Lawrence Gregor knew politics. He knew business. And he needed this knowledge to maneuver his way through the important business at hand. He needed to save his empire. He needed to save his people. To that end, he had invited the Tolimar power brokers to a sit-down. That included Governor Dedrik Kaufman, Garon Stein, the local manager of Planetary Security Services, Ernst Meier, CEO of Galactic Mining, Richelle Brandt, Owner of Duncan Mineral Enterprises and Garman Burkhart, owner of Tolimar Logging and Exports. His final invitation went to his cousin, Sheldon Moreno, mayor of Nuevo Aires. The meeting took place in the city of Erstadt at Shar’s bar, the same saloon where Krag had stayed and the default assembly venue for Tolimar. Gregor had rented it for the afternoon and agreed to pay for all food, drink and lost revenue.

  Having everyone arrive, they all took their seats around a set of tables that had been pushed together to form one large conference table. Shar approached and professionally took drink orders. Tommy, the barkeep, stood at his station. His brother, Willy busily bustled in the kitchen, alternating between preparing and delivering platters of food to the over-filled buffet table off to one side. Lawrence’s daughter, Harriet, stood off to one side, hovering like a vulture, ready to swoop in.

  Lawrence made a plate for himself and waited while the others built theirs. “Harriet, Make a plate. Sit.” He knew his daughter. He knew that she would continue to hover, creating an anxious atmosphere. That he didn’t need.

  Still wary, she did as her father commanded.

  Moreno filled his plate and sidled over to his friend. “Governor Kaufman,” Sheldon Moreno acknowledged his counterpart.

  “Governor Moreno,” the Tolimar governor responded.

  “Now that that is out of the way, how’s it hanging, Dedrik?”

  “Loose. You, Shelly?”

  “Same ol’, same ol’.”

  The rest of Gregor’s team, Sean Miller, Lawrence’s Second-in-Command, Donald Thomas, his Production Manager and Anthony Blandini, his Warehouse/Inventory Manager followed suit, filling plates and finding seats.

  Gregor took his place at the head of the table. Harriet, as always, took her seat to his right. The Governor commandeered the other end. When everyone finally took their places he noted that the Tolimar people sat on one side and the Gregor team faced them, sitting on the other.

  Patricia Grey, his information and computer specialist had her own table, stacked with a computer and projector equipment. On a stand, a large viewing screen hung, currently a blank, plain, reflective silver. She also loaded a plate, ordered a drink and returned to her place.

  The stark differences between the two groups immediately displayed themselves in the dress of the participants. Gregor’s team dressed as businessmen attending a board meeting. All, even the two women, wore power suits, ties or scarves and polished shoes. The Tolimar contingent dressed in relaxed, comfortable clothing, scuffed work shoes and some wore hats.

  For the next hour the six members of Gregor’s party, the five power brokers of Tolimar and Sheldon Moreno ate, drank, engaged in small talk and measured each other. Everyone spoke English, with periodic German sidebars among the Tolimars. They introduced themselves to each other. They talked carefully of their past experiences, their current positions.

  The Tolimar contingent knew they had in their midst one of the, if not the, most powerful crime bosses in all of the Federacy. That was why, when he called, they came. They i
nteracted, watched and waited. Gregor and his team studied Tolimar’s most powerful, assessing their strengths and weaknesses.

  Shar watched the artificial cordiality from her spot at the end of the bar. She watched the room full of power crackle with subtle probing, sharp questions and protective answers, all wrapped in an air of careful courtesy. The experienced bar owner watched a room full of type ‘A’, goal-oriented predators verbally move around each other, watching, evaluating, scheming.

  The initial pleasantries ended. Lawrence signaled to Shar. After Shar and Tommy cleared the detritus and refilled the drinks, Kingpin Lawrence Gregory tapped his glass. Harriet glared around the table. Everyone went silent.

  “Why are we all here?” Gregory began. “Well, we’ve all heard the rumors. We’ve all heard about the supposed invasion of Yeni Persia by aliens. I’m here to tell you that it is true. And more, much more. Much worse. Mrs. Grey, Mr. Miller, if you would?” All of the participants readjusted to get better views of the presentation screen.

  Gregor’s chief of staff rose, pulled a pen-shaped object from his pocket, pointed it at the silver screen and flicked it on. A bright red dot appeared. He faced his IT manager and nodded. Patricia Grey tapped some icons and the silver screen transformed into the Yeni Persia solar system. The two people, Patricia and Sean, had been practicing this presentation for days. They were ready.

  “This, as you can see, is the Yeni Persia system,” Miller began. Moving the red dot to the top-left, highlighting a small ring, he continued, “This is the Bridgelen gate to Dorogon, with the main planet being Sasania.”

  He moved his pointer to the lower left corner of the display. “This is the gate that the invaders came through. We’ve known for centuries about this gate. According to documents from a previous expedition, it takes almost two hundred days to traverse this gate. At the end is an uninhabited planet. There were plans to settle it, but it was too far away. So that never happened. There is no other gate for further travel. To all intents and purposes, this gate leads to nowhere.”