Waking in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 2)

by D Patrick Wagner

  The human five-ship flotilla waited. The Mortek eight-ship fleet advanced.

  “Captain Brewer. What is the ship configuration? Are you familiar with the formation of the alien vessels?”

  “No, Vice-Admiral. There appear to be five ships with roughly the same tonnage as our destroyers. Two ships match our battleships. The giant in the middle is half-again as large as the Odin.

  “We are facing more ships, double our tonnage and measurably outgunned.”

  “That is correct, sir.”

  Vice-Admiral Weiskoff may be an inherently angry individual. He may have emotional short-comings. But no one could say that he carried the label of ‘coward’. “When that blight in our system reaches maximum X-cannon range, please fire. Target one of their destroyers. Then immediately fire on that center monster. Mr. Clark, please remind the captains of our withdrawal plan and have everyone buttoned up. If this goes sideways we will need that well-ordered retreat. If we do need to withdraw, Odin will stand as rearguard.”

  The Mortek armada reached the maximum X-cannon limits.

  “Vice-Admiral, the lead ship, a destroyer size, is within range.”

  “As soon as the monster is within range, fire on the destroyer then the monster. As quickly as possible.”

  “According to the gunnery sergeant, there is a ten second recharge rate for the capacitors. In should be short enough. With inertia, those ships will not be able to adjust their trajectory quickly enough.”

  “Good! Let’s see if we can exact a pound of flesh for the Mani.”

  Within a minute the Odin fired. Five hundred million electron volts of x-rays and a matching electro-magnetic pulse lashed out from the experimental cannon. The lead-most destroyer died. The x-rays ignored the electro-magnetic shielding, as did the EMP charge. They passed through the armored hull. The EMP fried any component that held an electronic charge. The x-rays cooked all of the living beings within. Everything and everyone ceased to function or live. The carcass of the alien ship coasted on its initial path, a ballistic, dead lump hurling towards the human flotilla.

  Ten seconds later the Odin fired again. The Despoiler of Planets barely survived. The same thing that happened to the lead Mortek destroyer happened to the front twenty-five percent of the Mortek super dreadnaught. The entire bridge became a morgue. All of the command officers died. All of the forward electronics fried. The Despoiler of Planets became a crippled thing, limping back, limping out of harm’s way.

  Vice-Admiral Weiskoff remained seated in his command pod, watching the carnage. “Mr. Brewer, status?”

  “One ship, a destroyer, down. The monster, severely crippled. All ships pulling back beyond firing range.”

  “At the moment, we’ve held.”

  “Yes, sir. We’ve held.”

  “For now,” the Vice-Admiral softly whispered.

  Suichuu-Shigai

  Chamberlain Demura and Taishou Suzume stood at their now-familiar position high atop the viewing tower. They watched as another cargo submersible popped to the surface of the giant water pool at the edge of the loading docks. With the air pressure greater than the water force, this open pathway to the deadly sea never rose above the pre-engineered limits. If pressure did drop, the crushing ocean would push up through the pool, flood the dome and kill everyone, everything in it.

  “Is your family settled in?”

  “Yes, Chamberlain. Misaki and the two boys have their quarters. The boys are in school. Misaki is working with the other wives to organize housing and living conditions for the troop overflow. And yours?”

  “Yes. Settled in at the Water Palace. Your daughter? Is she safe?”

  “I believe so. She hired an executive transport and has been on an extended vacation.” Little did he know what his daughter was truly doing. “Marston Executive Transport. I’ve used him before. He’s ex-fleet, a fighter pilot. He’ll keep her out of harm’s way.”

  “Krag Marston. I’ve heard of him. Isn’t he a little dodgy when it comes to following the letter of the law?”

  “He’s ex-military, maybe a little rough around the edges. And he’s an independent contractor. So he’s probably had some less-than-legal hauls. I’ve had him and his ship checked out. Nothing abhorrent stands out. As long as he doesn’t get Keiko involved in anything shady, I’m fine with him shuttling my daughter.”

  “Thankfully Vice-Admiral Weiskoff bought us more time. It looks like we will have a fairly large military contingent.”

  “Yes. Now the hard part starts. We must train them to be sappers, saboteurs, assassins.”

  “Speaking of which, we have the entire contingent of the Royal Night Shadows”

  “Excellent, Chamberlain. Initially we can use their skills to train our traditional fighters. Then, when the time is right, we can turn them loose on these alien horrors.”

  “I will contact Shuhan Oishi, the Night Shadows’ leader, and set up a meeting with you and anyone you deem necessary.”

  “Thank you.”

  “The other two water cities, Suichuu-Fakutori and Suichuu-Noujou?”

  “Packed. Military personnel and material are the same as here, taking up every bit of open space possible. Fakutori’s factories are running at capacity. Raw stocks fill all the warehouses and, for the materials that can withstand sea water, more are stacked outside the domes. Noujou is the same on the military. Farming and harvesting have been accelerated in its agriculture domes. We’ve shortened the growth cycles, switched to faster growing crops. It is going to be a challenge to feed all of the extra mouths. But we will make it happen.”

  “Now we wait.”

  “Now we wait.”

  Aboard the Despoiler of Planets

  In the center of the Despoiler of Planets resided a hardened command and control center. The backup to the bridge was built precisely for this situation-the bridge destroyed, commanding officers and operators dead, no leadership or direction. Deep in the center of the ship, Despoiler’s Second Captain squatted on his stool, shocked and frozen, his four feet magnetically clamped to the deck the only things holding him in place. His vestigial wings pointed straight sideways, quivering in fear. His claws lay as though dead on the control panel.

  Shaking himself back to the here-and-now, he screamed, “Pull us back! Pull everything back!”

  Second Pilot needed no coaxing. He flipped the ship end-for-end and re-engaged the Despoiler of Planets’ powerful drives. Quickly halting Despoiler of Planets’ forward momentum, the giant ship fled a short distance back the way it came. The six remaining ships followed suit. The dead one continued its ballistic journey towards the enemy.

  “Get me Flight!”

  The speed of messages matched the speed of light. Flight watched the playback as Second Pilot conveyed the bad news.

  “Hold your position. Stay outside of the range of the soft skin weapon.” Second Captain heard the command and, with great relief, insured that he carried out Flight’s orders to the letter.

  Aboard the Ravage Maker

  Flight entered the Ravage Maker’s primary command center and deferentially approached War.

  My Liege, we have news from the front.”

  Turning to face his subordinate, War responded, “Well?”

  With wings pressed against his thorax and nervously darting his tongue, Flight responded, “We have lost a destroyer. And Despoiler of Planets has suffered grievous damage. All first line commanders are dead.”

  A shocked War asked, “How did this happen?” progressing from shock to anger, he continued, “Their puny weapons could only destroy our attack ships. They showed their ineffectiveness against all others.”

  “A new weapon, Sire. Fired from the soft skin’s largest ship.”

  “Where is the rest of the attacking fleet?”

  “I had them pull back, out of range.”

  “Good decision. I know this is not your doing. Hold the fleet while I plan our next step. What telemetry did you receive on this new weapon?”

&nbs
p; “Not much. It’s some kind of power beam, invisible, travels at light speed. The soft skins only fired twice before we pulled back.”

  “Send everything you have to Science and First Weapons Master.”

  Flight worked his tablet and followed War’s order.

  “Communicator, link me to Science.”

  Science came on the line.

  “Science.”

  “War.”

  “We’ve run into an obstacle. The soft skins have a weapon that is effective against our ships.”

  “Which ships?”

  “All of them.”

  “What kind of weapon?”

  ‘We don’t know. I am sending all telemetry from the battle to you and First Weapons Master. Review it quickly and come to the conference room. Bring first Weapons Master.”

  Turning back to Flight, War continued the discussion. “What is our damage?”

  “One destroyer totally lost and a heavily damaged dreadnaught. The damage on the Despoiler of Planets is extensive.”

  “Still serviceable?”

  “From the reports, not for combat. But as a sentry for this system, quite useable.”

  War watched Science and Weapons enter then take their stools.

  Slightly turning, the Mortek war leader asked, “Science, you’ve reviewed the data that Flight sent?

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What is your assessment?”

  “This new weapon is some kind of high energy radiation beam. It destroys all electronics holding a current and kills any organic cells it comes in contact with.”

  “Any idea what kind of radiation?”

  “None, sir. None of the ships had any sensors calibrated for collecting information on this new weapon.”

  “We need to find out how they damaged us. Find out what that weapon is!”

  “Yes, my Liege. A recommendation. If we have a full set of sensors targeted at the soft skin ship and get it to fire again, I am confident that we can discover its mechanism and capabilities.”

  “We need that planet, Lord. I propose that we attack again, but this time with an overwhelming force. We will lose some ships, but we will win the war and know what we need to know to overcome this new weapon.”

  “Good thinking, Flight. We attack. This time we attack with the remainder of Second Fleet still on site and the entire Third Fleet.”

  “We lead with the attack ships as a shield. We follow up with the destroyers. We will goad them into discharging this new weapon. This also allows our two dreadnaughts to focus on the large ship. We put Science and all of the sensors he needs on one of the dreadnaughts. That way we kill our enemy and discover this new weaponry.”

  “That is a good plan. Make it happen, Flight. Science, you are now under the command of Flight until we have accomplished our objectives. Understood?”

  “At your command, Sire.”

  “Carry on, Science. Send in Intelligence as you leave.”

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  “Also, we need to stop all communications from leaving this system. I’ve ordered our blocking fleet to saturate all space with signal disrupters. If we can kill this soft skin fleet and not allow any communications from leaving this system, then the rest of this civilization will not know if this single weapon is effective.”

  “Excellent thinking, Flight. Let’s finish this,” War commanded.

  Chapter 3

  Shar’s Bar

  The two days passed. Shar had one of her most profitable two days in the history of the bar. Gregory had been good for his word. Although the bar and rooms had been closed, he made sure that Shar never lost any revenue, turned a profit, insured that all food stocks and consumables were replenished. His team and the Tolimar contingent spent both evenings reveling at the expense of the Gregor Corporation. And Shar knew that that had been Gregor’s plan all along – to keep everyone engaged, entertained, removing the boundaries of two different social strata, two different cultures.

  It had worked. Now, mid-afternoon, she watched as the principals flowed in, settled into like-minded groups and continued their conversations. The Gregor team dressed in casual dress, becoming more comfortable, more localized. Shar watched as Lawrence, Harriet and Shelley strode in. All commotion stopped. Lawrence gestured a ‘hello’ and a ‘continue’. Then the three headed to her and her bar.

  Sometimes leaders arrive early, establishing control of the social environment. Sometimes they arrive a little late, allowing the interaction to grow organically. Lawrence, this time, chose the latter and was pleased to see the results.

  “Good afternoon, Shar.”

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Gregor.”

  “Call me Lawrence. Not Larry. My loving cousin calls me that, knowing it drives me crazy. Right Sheldon?”

  “We grew up together on the streets, Larry. I’ve called you Larry my whole life. Why change now?” Turning to Shar, “And you can call me Shelly. Not Sheldon.” Jerking a thumb at his cousin, “He calls me Sheldon for the same reason.”

  “Lawrence and Shelly it is. Food? Drinks?”

  Begrudgingly following suit, Lawrence’s daughter joined the familiarity. “You can call me Harriet. I’ll take coffee, black.”

  “One coffee, black, coming up. Any others?”

  The other two ordered the same. Shar signaled to Tommy, mouthed three coffees and joined the three watching the room. Conversations wound down. The group became aware of the watching leader. Each grabbed his or her drink of choice and drifted to his or her seat, again with the Tolimar contingent sitting across from the Gregor team. But this time the separating tables didn’t form a barrier separating the two groups. Patricia Grey took her usual spot at her table with her IT gear.

  Seeing this, Lawrence led his own small group to the joined tables and sat. With everyone finally seated and focused on him he began.

  “Welcome back, people. Let’s start off with two simple questions. Do you believe that the human race is being attacked by aliens? And, if so, do you believe that we are in mortal danger? For yeses to those two questions is the foundation for the meeting and our subsequent plan of action.”

  Gregor received affirmatives from everyone at the table. “That being the case, we need to address our first order of business. Mr. Meier, Mr. Stein, where do you stand?”

  Ernst Meier spoke first. “I’m conflicted. Consolidated Galactic Mining has given me and my family a good life. I’ve spent my whole adult life working for them. They’ve always done right by me. Not telling them what you propose, taking over their local operations, feels like betrayal, theft. I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “I hear you, Mr. Meier. Mr. Stein?”

  “I feel the same way, maybe not so locked in. I came up through the military before I took this job. A marine. I’m more victory oriented. But I still have my loyalties. And those are split. Naturally my family comes first. Then there’s all of my employees and their families. My background taught me to place a great deal of importance, of faith, in loyalty to my people. Then there’s Planetary Security Services. I owe loyalty to them. It’s a tough call.”

  “You are both good men. I admire you and respect whatever decision you make. Let me make a proposal. Mr. Meier, you hold off on your final decision for six months. You continue as before. But you remain a part of this decision-making board. You offer suggestions and ideas, but you don’t get involved. We do this for six months. The only thing that I ask is that you keep this board’s plans a secret. Would that work for you?”

  Ernst Meier, local CEO of Galactic Consolidate Mining thought for a moment then responded, “I can do that.”

  Mr. Stein, I make the same proposal to you, with one caveat. We need some sort of standing army. I am going to have five, maybe six thousand people arriving and establishing new lives. I recommend that you train a local militia, a defensive force. I have my own security force, but you know the planet. You know the local people and customs. I would like you to be the Tolimar contact for the formation of t
his new Tolimar military. I’ll pay you for your time.”

  “Money is always good. And I do believe that we are in trouble. As long as this doesn’t conflict with my duties with Plan-Sec, I’m in.”

  “Good. Welcome aboard. Mr. Miller, would you work with Mr. Stein to review his finances and establish a stipend that will demonstrably increase the quality of his life?” Gregor got a nod in return.

  “You keep talking about settling a bunch of people here, establishing a safe haven. What about supplies? Foodstuffs? Mechanical parts? Ship repairs?”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Brandt. That was the next topic on my agenda. I have a confession. First, I must insist that this does not leave this room. Understood?” For the first time, everyone experienced Lawrence Gregor’s steel. Some frowned. Some wrinkled their mouths. Lawrence looked at Shar. She nodded and glared at her barkeep and cook. Those two nodded. All the participants at the table agreed.

  “The Gregor Corporation owns a shipyard. It’s not large. We have a bay that can hold up to two ships, about the size of a Federacy patrol craft. Anything bigger, and it would need to dock or stand off. The yard has three docking ports. So, from a ship’s maintenance point of view, we’re covered.”

  “Where is it?”

  Lawrence didn’t reveal how close it was, how it was in the next system, Arium. He lied. “I’ll have it close within three months. I have a way of getting it here.” The Gregor team knew he lied and stayed quiet.

  “How many people are you bringing? Have you thought about where to settle them?” this question came from Gorman.

  “Not many. Ten, twelve thousand at the most. What we will be bringing is a wide range of skills. Everything from manufacturing to product management to agriculture to a general labor force. We also have scientists, engineers and miners. The miners are experienced in space mining, mining asteroids.”

  “Where do you plan to settle them?”

  “That’s for you, the board, to decide. My people know what the Gregor Corporation people are capable of. They know the physiographic makeup of the population. You, the Tolimar group, know Tolimar. It’s up to you. Hash it out. Whatever you decide, that is where we will locate. But, keep in mind, wherever the Gregor families are located, that is where the majority of the industry will reside.”