“Well put, Keiko. That’s why you’re the ambassador and I am the lowly captain,” Krag said with a grin. “Mack?”
“Engineering wise, they’ve got our number, Cap. They’ve solved the gravity problem. Their technical expertise is way ahead of ours. Look at the mechanics of Vidhee. She moves like a real Elonian. That’s some real high tech. And, don’t forget, they picked up our Griffin and stuck it in a spare cargo bay. That means they have one damn big ship. Pardon my language. One of our dreadnaughts could do it. But that’s about it. And this is a science vessel. What if they have war ships bigger than this?”
Mack paused, glugged a swig of coffee and continued. “Besides, we aren’t going anywhere. My girl is busted. We need to have our new friends make her right. So I’m with Keiko. Pardon me, Ambassador Suzume.”
“Sue?”
“Software wise, again, Elonia is way ahead of us. Just look at Buster.” She cocked a head at the newly upgraded being. “We’ve never come close to anything like that. Him. When I worked on our battle tech, that was the best we had. It doesn’t come even close. I say we hang here for a while, if the Elonians will let us. We get Griffin fixed and we learn as much as we can.”
“In summary, if we step out of line or the Elonians decide they don’t like us, to put it delicately, we’re screwed. But, if we follow Keiko’s lead, and she pulls it off, we can get Griffin fixed. We want to learn as much as we can about their software systems. And we want to absorb as much technical information we can along the way. Is that about it?”
Everyone agreed.
“Buster, I forgot. I’m sorry. This is going to take some getting used to. You are now part of the crew. What are your thoughts? Or do I call them algorithms?”
“’Thoughts’ works for me. But adding anything meaningful at this time? I am most comfortable running scenario outcome probabilities based upon data collection. However, there is not enough information available for any kind of meaningful conclusions. As to guessing, I’m not experienced enough with this new set of protocols to have any confidence in guessing or making a conclusion based upon feelings. Therefore, Krag, it was correct to overlook my input at this time. I am content to watch and observe, advancing my non-linear logic functions, what you call ‘your gut’.”
“Tin Man. Is that a long-winded way of saying you haven’t got a clue?”
“Tin Man? From the movie with the flying monkeys? The robot with no heart?”
“Ya. That just popped into my head. Maybe it wasn’t so good. But you being a member of our team, you need a nickname. I’ll figure something better.”
“Yes, Mack. You could say I haven’t got a clue. But following Keiko’s lead seems the best plan of action at the moment.
“Then we agree. We hold. Keiko takes point. We follow. It’s been a long day. Let’s get cleaned up, meet back here, keep kicking ideas around. If anyone is still hungry, after the Elonian meal, eat.”
Everyone agreed, rose began cleaning up, Mack snacking as he worked. When done, all headed to their perspective cabins.
Aboard Ravage Maker
War called another counsel. Logistics, Flight, Intelligence and Materialist sat around the conference table, waiting for their leader to direct the meeting.
“Materialist. Where do we stand with the fleets?”
“My Lord.” Materialist bowed his head in submission then began. “All remaining ships of Second Fleet have been refitted and restocked. It is void of attack craft. However that will not affect the coming battle. Third Fleet, except for its lost attack craft, is also prepared.”
“Then, our fleets are ready for this next attack?”
“Yes, My Lord. The fleets are ready.”
“Flight, status??”
“The Star Killer, is leading three cruisers, five destroyers and eight frigates to the northern gate, the one that leads to the heart of the soft skin’s civilization. They are to hold, letting no enemy pass either in or out.”
“Do you believe that blocking force is large enough?”
“I’ve seen no indication that these soft skins have any technology, other than their lone cannon, that can harm our ships. So, yes, that flotilla is large enough.”
“About that cannon. Logistics, Are scientists and monitoring equipment on board, ready to discover exactly what that cannon fired at us?”
“Yes, My Lord. Aboard the Annihilator, in the hard room. They will not be affected if the ship is struck.”
“Then I approve. Excellent work, Logistics.”
“Thank you, My Lord.”
“Flight. Do you agree with Logistics and Materialist? Are we ready to attack this second soft skin world?”
“Yes, My Lord. It is as Logistics stated. We are ready.”
“Launch your attack. Let’s make this system ours.”
“Immediately, My Lord. Permission to withdraw?”
“Granted. Get on with your victory, Flight.” War, as well as the other three participants, waited until Flight left the conference room.
“Intelligence.”
“My Lord.”
“Report on the prisoners.”
“Certainly, My Lord. As I previously stated, one appears to be a high-ranking official, a Logistics of the planet. It is also an offspring of the primary ruler. We’ve broken through on our translation program. Our communication with it and the other prisoners has progressed from rudimentary to moderate.”
“Results?”
“We’ve begun to treat the primary prisoner, who goes by the title of Governor and name of Ardishar, as though it is a being of importance. This approach has seemed to make it very talkative. We have gleaned large amounts of information as it blathers on about its importance and everything it supposedly controls. As we gain more control of the populous, this ‘Governor Ardishar’, will become a very useful puppet in controlling the soft skin work force”
“Very, very good, Intelligence. Have a detailed report on the information currently extracted and on your plan of installing this ‘governor’ back into a place of control.”
“As you wish, My Lord.”
“Materialist?”
“As previously stated, we have completed the task of refitting and restocking our fleet. Our manufacturing ship has created all of the parts required for the repairs and our workers have finished the installations and replacements. Also, we are in the process of delivering the first of many replacement attack craft. All is back to battle-readiness, with the exception of Spoiler of Planets. The devastation of the soft skin’s energy beam was extensive. As previously stated, the dreadnaught is more than adequate for sentry duty at our first victory. But, as a weapon of war, it is far too damaged.”
“Then you have no compulsion about moving forward with the invasion?”
“None, whatsoever, My Lord.” Materialist extended his vestigial brown wings to reinforce his commitment.
“Logistics, how is the processing going on Nest One?”
“Ahead of schedule. One cargo ship is filled and currently preparing for its journey back to our outpost colony. We have also been able to build a food reserve. Our breeding domes are in place with the first queens arriving shortly. With Intelligence’s translation programs, we have succeeded in organizing a slave force of soft skins. We are using them to strip-mine for the raw materials that we need for expanding our fleet. It appears that Nest One will yield enough metals and materials to build our first space dock.”
“Thank you, Logistics. Thank you all for your reporting. Dismissed.” So saying, War slammed his fist on the tabletop, ending the meeting.
Sasania Headquarters Survivors
Spring should be the celebration of new life. The forest blanketing the mountains above the now-destroyed Federacy headquarters teemed with life. The trees and plants exploded with a cornucopia of colors, each pushing its blossoms, each sprouting seeds, to insure the survival of the species. Fauna off-spring variously slept, played, ate or explored as they learned to live in this lush environmen
t.
Against this rekindling of life, the human population of Sasania experienced death, destruction and slavery. Either being converted to food or suffering under the electric probes of their Mortek slave masters, hope died. A particular group of despondent survivors huddled amongst the trees and in their despair, lost in their purpose. Their camp, a mobile forward base, hid in this explosion of new life, above their destroyed base. Hiding in the forest, making no sounds, lighting no fires, the small force of Federacy marines fought to insure that they drew zero attention from Sasania’s bug-like conquerors.
Periodically a Mortek attack craft rocketed overhead, patterning circles, attempting to flush out the location of the survivors from the alien attack on Sasania’s Federacy Space Fleet Headquarters. Everyone would freeze in place at the first sound of the ship, stay frozen as it ran its pattern and remained frozen for a time afterwards. Then they would return to the job of staying alive, staying hidden.
Commander Toma quietly wandered through the camp, touching his officers on the shoulder and whispering an order to meet in the command tent. It took time, but as long as the camp wasn’t discovered, they had plenty of that. After the last selected marine arrived at the tent and took their places around the make-shift conference table, the commander opened the planning session.
“It’s been a month. We’ve hid in our hole long enough. We need to find out what is going on out there.”
“A scouting mission, sir?” Asked Captain Qureshi
“Actually two, Captain. Beginning with an immediate area sweep and a multi-day recon, working towards the capitol.”
“That’s good, Commander. Our people’s moral has been sinking. We’re in danger of losing any fighting edge we ever had.”
“I don’t know how much fighting we are going to do. With less than five hundred souls, our plan of action is going to be information gathering. We are still in contact with the communications satellite on the moon. Is that correct, Mr. Kassis?”
“Yes, sir. Strong and clear.”
“What about sabotage? Destroying infrastructure?”
“Yes, Mr. Qureshi. When the opportunity arises and the risks are at a minimum. Who knows. We may be the last fighting force on Sasania.”
“If we are, I’d rather go down as a wolf, rather than a sheep.”
“That’s wrong-headed thinking, Lieutenant Ashid,” Commander Toma rebuked. “We are not going to go down. We are going to do everything in our power to support the Federacy in its retaking of our home. Is that understood?” The commander rose and leaned on his arms as he made this declaration. “Is that clear?” he commanded.
“Sir, clear, sir,” his three officers responded.
“Good.” Retaking his seat, he continued.” Captain Qureshi, I want a six man team, one leader. It will be comprised of a sniper and spotter, two shooters, one corpsman, one radioman. All equipped with full camouflage. I wish we had stealth gear, but if wishes were fishes.”
“Aye, aye, Commander.”
“The best. No wild hares. I want out, collect, back, report. No gung-ho action.”
“Understood.”
“Travel, dig in at night, recon, sleep during the day. We can’t afford to let those bugs know that there is an active force out here.”
“Insha’Allah.”
Aboard Odin
Watching his monitor, Vice-Admiral Weiskoff saw the alien blockade force powering towards the northern gate. The super dreadnaught led three cruisers, five destroyers and eight frigates. “I have to give them their due. That’s a tight, fast formation. I’m still going to kill them.”
“Captain Brewer, do you see that our back door is closing?”
“Yes, Vice-Admiral.”
“Lieutenant Clark. Work up a plan of action for playing hide-and-seek within Dorogon. We may be stuck here for a while.”
“On it, Sir.” Weiskoff’s adjunct left the bridge and headed to the conference room to begin preparations for running and hiding.
“Let’s go over our X-cannon again, Captain. That is the only thing that will let us run that alien gauntlet that’s waiting for us, if we need to break through.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Weiskoff went back to viewing the Bridgelen gate and the alien task force steaming to close it off.
“Captain, the aliens are on the move!” Sensor Specialist Bradley announced.
“How many?”
“Practically the entire alien fleet, sir.”
“Vice-Admiral?”
“A moment.” Weiskoff switched his monitor over to display the same view as Specialist Bradley. “I see it. We can’t stop that. Nyu-Nippon is lost. If we stay, we die. Captain, what is the projected arrival time?”
“Mr. Bradley?”
“They aren’t sprinting. Just moving in formation. Three hours, tops. No less than two-and a half, at their current speed.”
“Three hours.”
“We’re gone in two.” Weiskoff stated. “Captain, order our fleet to move towards that alien wreck, cut down on travel time. Get it on board.” Weiskoff paused to collect his thoughts. “And contact Governor Ishii. I need to give him the bad news.”
“Mr. Connors, please contact the governor’s office.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
“And, send all of our collected intel to Cencore. Everything, including all the video of the boarding party. We need to let the Federacy know what is happening here.”
“Yes, sir, Vice-Admiral. Mr. Connors?”
“Immediately after the governor connection, sir.” After working his control panel and softly speaking into his mic, the communication specialist announced, “Governor Ishii is linked, Vice-Admiral.”
“Governor Ishii.”
“Vice-Admiral Weiskoff. Please wait a moment while I link in Chamberlain Demura and Ambassador Suzume.”
After a few moments, two new images appeared on Weiskoff’s monitor.
“Chamberlain Demura, Ambassador Suzume.”
“Vice-Admiral.”
“The aliens are coming. They are coming in overwhelming force. They will arrive in no more than three hours.”
“At least we know,” commented the ambassador.
“If Odin stays, it, and its flotilla, will be destroyed as well.”
“We understand, Vice-Admiral,” stated the chamberlain.
“We are in the process of recovering an alien ship, the one that we destroyed. And we have a great deal of intel. All this needs to get back to Cencore. I have to withdraw.”
“Again, we understand. We are on our own. We always assumed that. There is no reason to throw away one of Federacy’s three dreadnaughts on a gesture. With or without your defense, the aliens are going to take our planet, kill our people.”
“I won’t forget you, sirs. I will come back and kick those four-legged monsters off your planet. I give you my word.”
“That is all we can ask.”
“I’m sorry I need to leave you.”
“No apology needed, Vice-Admiral. The situation warrants this action. We all must do what must be done.”
“Dig in. Survive. I shall return. I give you my word.”
Disconnecting the communication with the leaders of Nyu-Nippon infused a deep sense of failure into Weiskoff that he knew would never leave. Shaking off the dispiriting sentiment, the Vice-Admiral raised his head towards Captain Brewer.
“Where do we stand, salvaging that wreck?”
“Forty minutes out. We should be loaded thirty after that. Give us ninety and we will be at full steam. Whichever direction you command.”
“Don’t let anything stop us. If anything is going to stop those freaks, the intel we gleam from that ship will be it.”
“Sirs,” the communications specialist interrupted. “We haven’t received a data-received response from the Bridgelen gate communication satellite.”
“What does that mean?”
“Either it is down or the aliens are jamming our signal. In either case, Cenco
re is not being updated.”
“That tears it. Please contact Mr. Clark and have him return to the bridge.”
Within moments Lieutenant Clark entered, approached the Vice-Admiral and waited.
“Change of plans. We can’t get a signal out. We are obligated to get through that blockade and reach Cencore. I need a new strategy. One that will let us run through that alien mess.”
“Understood. Should I continue with the strategic withdrawal as a backup plan?”
“No. We’re running. Put your primary effort into getting through those ships. As fast as possible. With as little contact as possible.”
“Sir.” Weiskoff’s adjunct again headed back to the conference room, with another task on his plate.
“It’s going to get hairy, Captain.”
“That it is, Vice-Admiral.”
Suichuu-Shigai
The semi-weekly inspection always began with a high-level meeting in the conference room of the Royal Observation Tower. The encircling windows gave everyone the view of the extreme activity below and the blue/green ocean above.
Taishou Suzume waited for Chamberlain Demura to signal for the meeting to begin. Seeing a head-nod, the former ambassador and now the general of all of Nye-Nippon’s forces began.
“The aliens are currently amassing at the Yeni-Persia gate. They are coming. The Federacy will not be able to hold them off. We knew this day would arrive. Luckily, we’ve had six weeks to begin our preparations.”
All the on-site senior leaders sternly sat and nodded in agreement. The hologram of Governor Ishii projected as sitting in an empty chair. He also nodded in agreement.
“Glad that you are with us, Governor.”
“Thank you, Lord Chamberlain.”
“How are you doing with your people?”
“Those that you haven’t been able to be accepted into the sea cities are moving to the mountains. We hope to hide and disperse as much as possible. These two months have given us plenty of time to stockpile resources, build concealed dwellings and dig caverns. It will be hard, but we will make do.”
Waking in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 2) Page 12