The Turret: Starclan Foundation

by James McAlliater

  Damn, he’s irritating! How did he ever pass the psych tests for this assignment?

  Jock looked at the vid screen Emerson indicated. It was big, fast, and unlike any ship he had ever heard of. Jock thought, if I had a power plant fifty times more powerful than what we have now, that is the ship I would build around it!

  “Velocity reads as one third light and decelerating. It looks to be about two hundred meters long, about thirty five meters at its widest point. A lot of protrusions on it, many looking like lenses. Sensors, comm arrays, weapons? Several small ports; the right size for large missiles. Exterior color flat black. No lights. I’m getting scanning EM waves, likely sensors. Mr. Bird, what do you think?”

  “Um, Sir, this isn’t one of ours. Heh. Heh.”

  “Let’s see what he does for a while. Confirm all our emission are cold?”

  “C-con-confirmed, Sir!” Bird was shaking slightly as he realized just what was happening.

  “Relax, Emerson. They could look right at us and only see another group of rocks in space.”

  The two men sat and watched as the strange ship stopped right at the System Lagrangian point their station was assigned to guard. The ship sat quietly for several minutes, then a cluster of projections on its hull began glowing bright orange. Both Jock and Emerson grasped the arms of their chairs a little more tightly.

  “Is that a weapon charging?” Emerson’s voice quivered.

  “It’s not aimed at us, if it is. It is pointed out of the System.” Jock answered in hushed tones.

  A bright orange flash filled the screen. As the men’s eyes readjusted, the strange ship seemed dark once more.

  “Communication. This must be a scout ship! Ensign, get the Taclink ready.” Jock’s cool voice calmed the jittery ensign as much as having a concrete task to perform did. Jock energized the gravity beam projectors, and focused them on the space occupied by the strange ship.

  “Taclink online, Lieutenant.”

  Jock opened the Taclink comm. “CODE RED. ADS 1437 has contact with unknown object. CODE RED. Appears to be alien vessel. CODE RED. Believe communicating out-system. CODE RED.” Jock closed the record comm link.

  “Message encoded.” The station’s computer announced a moment later. Jock activated the control, which sent a small tightly focused laser burst directly at the Nili Patera System Defense Complex. They would have the information in seconds, and the transmission would be undetectable unless you were right in its path with an active optic sensor.

  Jock relaxed a little now. Even if they were vaporized, the defenses would be active. Now, that’s a pretty thought! And, unless these ships were FTL, Jock figured they had years to prepare for the main “arrival”, IF they were hostile.

  “Ensign, are all reactors on line?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant. All reactors at 100%.”

  “Projectile weapon status?”

  “Railguns and missile batteries all show green, Sir. Including your ‘specials’.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Bird.” Jock acknowledged the ensign as he entered a few more settings into the gravity beam controllers. “Hang on tight, I’m going to lock them up here.”

  Jock activated the gravity beams, modified and enhanced with his software ‘adjustments’ as suggested by his work with Shannon. The ship on the video screen shook slightly, but held fast as Jock and Emerson watched thrusters and then main drives pour out huge amounts of energy.

  “Looks like you caught a big one, Lieutenant!”

  “Yeah, let’s hope he doesn’t break the line!”

  The thrusters and drive units on the alien ship suddenly went silent. Numerous protrusions on the ship’s hull began moving, as if searching for…them.

  Ports opened. The flames of missile thrusts burst from the openings and peeled back towards the ship’s hull. But the missiles stopped as soon as their nosecones cleared the port. Jock’s gravity beams held them all in place.

  The alien ship became quiet again, a dozen missiles floating half in, half out of their launch tubes, having exhausted their fuel. Two of the lenses rotated, and beams of energy touched a nearby chunk of rock, instantly vaporizing it into an expanding globe of plasma.

  “We need to silence that quickly, before they get lucky and hit the gravity beam emitters. Ensign, see if you can take out those sensor arrays with the lasers. Maybe we can blind their aim.”

  “Aye-aye, Sir” Bird fired several laser bursts at the alien ship, but every shot seemed to stop about a hundred meters from its hull.

  “Okay, time for plan ‘B’.” Jock entered more commands, and a thin, focused gravity beam reached out and disrupted the molecules holding one of the sensor arrays to the alien’s hull. Again and again, Jock targeted a protrusion on the alien’s hull, effectively chopping them off by ripping the molecules in their supports apart. It took several minutes before Jock had disabled every antenna, sensor, and beam emitter. The alien beams had destroyed three ADS laser emitters and one ADS missile platform, but nothing vital had been hit.

  “Emerson, see if you can locate their power source.” Jock had an idea.

  “It seems to be here, Sir.” Ensign Bird indicated a point near the main drive units, about one third of the way along the ship, forward from the drives.

  “Good. Let me see here. Perhaps I can put them in the dark…” Jock’s hands flew over the controls as he retargeted his ‘gravity scalpel’. The tightly focused gravity beam neatly cut the ship into two pieces, separating the power and drive section from the forward two thirds of the hull. The two parts hung only a few molecules apart, still held fast by the main gravity beams, the atmosphere venting out of the gap. Crap! I didn’t think of that. I hope they have automated bulkheads!

  “I’m reading zero power output now, Sir. Temp readings throughout the alien ship almost match ambient space.”

  “Damn. Bird, you have the comm. I’m taking a trip over to look around.”

  ***

  S.T. Thistle

  Far Ort Cloud

  Standard Earth Date December 5 3446

  “So, the young JG has captured that ship. Interesting. He must be a bright one.” I wonder what his next move is? They’ll need someone to tow the ship in…

  Dennis Trap hit his thrusters, positioning the Thistle for a fast trip to the ADS. Then he sat back, and opened his datatab.

  “I need to get better ‘people skills’.” Dennis said as he scrolled through the titles. “There, that’s the one!” He declared, as he hit the computer comm. “Sally, open the book, “How To Win Friends And Influence People.”

  “Of course, lover boy!”

  “Ye-up, that sounds like just what I need.”

  ***

  Asteroid Defense Station 1437

  Airlock 7

  Standard Earth Date December 5 3446

  “Keep this comm channel open, Ensign.” Jock was nervous about taking an EVA to the Alien ship. He was, in effect, an under armed one-man boarding party.

  “Aye-aye, Lieutenant. Ha-ha-ha.”

  Jock rolled his eyes, then activated his powered armor, thrusting across the 80,000 kilometers to the alien ship. The armor was essentially a powered spacesuit with thick armor covering vital areas, and providing a power assist to his movements. It had a limited spaceflight capability, effective for inter-ship travel at less than 200,000 kilometers.

  “Okay, Mr. Bird, remember, if I fail to report in every twenty minutes, reengage the gravity beams, contact Nili Patera, and just sit tight until they get here.”

  “Ha-ha-ha-ha! Aye-aye, SIR! Ha-hah!”

  Jock scowled, then began breaking to avoid becoming a ‘bug on the windshield’, whatever that ancient phrase meant. The last few molecules of atmosphere escaping had pushed the two parts of the alien ship away from each other. The gap was now about ten feet, affording Jock an easy access point.

  “I’m at the alien ship. Just moving inside.” Jock looked into the larger section first, flipping his armored lights on. He gasped when his eyes registered
what he was looking at.

  The inside of the ship was essentially one large room. All the mechanicals of the ship were contained within the twelve-meter thick outer hull. Throughout the interior, parts of the outer “skin” protruded in, well beyond the average level. Jock figured it was due to large machinery. What appeared to be control stations were arraigned around the inside of the outer hull. Floating throughout the interior space were…Bugs.

  Dull brown, oval bodies floated about. Most were tethered to duty stations, but some floated freely. Jock couldn’t help but think that the floaters had been desperately trying to escape the depressurization of their ship.

  “Bird, I’m in the ship.” Jock transmitted as a way of recording his observations. “There are numerous alien bodies in here. Each of the bodies has eight legs, short in comparison to the body length.” Jock moved closer to get a better look. “The legs aren’t exactly jointed, more like meter-long tentacles with a hard covering in three sections. I think the gaps provide flexibility while the hard covering provides support. Some type of finger/claw arrangement is at the end of each of the four legs nearest the head.”

  “The bodies look like mostly soft muscular tissue, with a thick, hard support on the backside, like a boat’s keel. There are two separate coverings on the underside. They look more… flexible. The legs slant towards the head. The head seems more mouth than anything else. The mouth has four pieces of the covering material, the two side plates overlapping the top and bottom plates. Each of the four plates had serrated edges that look sharp.

  “Every one of these, I’ll call them Bugs for now, every one has an olive-green sack floating near the heads, surrounded by numerous globs of pea-green liquid and attached to the Bugs mouth. It looks like if they were been trying to swallow these sacks when they died.”

  Jock gulped, realizing those sacks were the ‘guts’ of the Bugs, pulled out of their bodies by the sudden decompression of the ship.

  “I’m glad I can’t smell anything in here.”

  Scanning the interior so his suit recorders could document everything he was reporting, Jock panned slowly as he checked for any signs of life. Convinced that none of the aliens were alive, Jock turned to check out the other section of the ship. The drives and power plant interested Jock the most.

  “Beep!” his timer went off.

  “Ensign, anything new on your end?”

  “Anything new? New York, New Jersey, New Italian Ba…”

  “Cut it, Bird!” Jock had had enough of this psycho.

  Jock moved into the drive section, seeing only two Bugs stationed there. There was a bulkhead, with what looked like a massive door.

  “I’m at a door, guessing this leads to the engineering section. All I have to do is figure out how to open it.”

  Jock’s hand went to his gun, a two-pound “L” shaped device that fired a rod of compressed protons at two thousand meters per second. As he moved closer to the door, he noticed a U shaped handle-like protuberance on the door began moving, rotating around one end. Jock froze, and then backed up as the door opened.

  ***

  Philadelphia Spaceport

  Terminal D

  Standard Earth Date December 17 3446

  The tall redhead strode wearily down the spacebridge and into the crowded terminal. Her stylish but well-worn brown business suit downplayed but did not hide her nearly perfect figure. She carried a too-large briefcase on a shoulder strap. Her pretty face projected mild displeasure as she spoke loudly into her comm link.

  “Hello, Robert? This is Susan Eastman. I’ve just touched down in Philly. Yeah, I can. Where? Okay, see you then.” She closed the comm link and walked briskly, following the Baggage Claim signs.

  One quick train-ride to Manhattan, and this can be over. Shannon thought. Lost on the trip back, stealth probe navigation error. Will anyone buy that? By tomorrow, it won’t matter. I never told them, Lord forgive me, I never told him. He’ll know when he meets Jack. I knew. God help me, I knew and I did nothing! I knew Daddy had Nial MacAlister killed. Jock, Jack, Sharon, please, oh please, forgive me!

  The redhead picked up her bag, and then followed the signs to the Maglev Train. She stopped at the counter, and purchased a one-way ticket to Grand Central Terminal, Manhattan.

  ***

  S.T. Thistle

  Far Ort Cloud

  Standard Earth Date December 18 3446

  Dennis Trap awoke with a start. Reading this damn book had taught him nothing about selling his services. It just kept putting him to sleep.

  He took a quick look at his scanners. The ADS had brought what Dennis figured to be an alien ship close alongside the main asteroid. Dennis could zoom in and see the umbilicals stretching out to the two parts of the ship, and the glow of the lights inside. Soon, in about 3 days, Dennis figured, the Navy ships would show up. Then he’d be locked out. Again.

  “Not this damn time! I’ve got nothing to lose, so what the hell!”

  Dennis hit his drive units, and the S.T. Thistle began a moderate, nonthreatening acceleration towards ADS 1437.

  ***

  Chrysler Building

  55th Floor

  New York City

  Standard Earth Date December 18 3446

  “Your man is in place, Mr. Hale? He understands what he is to do?”

  “Yes, he does. The Lieutenant will never arrive at Lunar Station. His probe will have a launch “malfunction”.

  “It better. I want MacAlister out of the picture. He has caused the deaths of both of my daughters. First Sharon, and then…her.” The last word slithered out as if coated with putrid slime. “And, I want that alien ship!”

  “I understand, sir. I have everything in place. Nothing can go wrong.”

  “I know it won’t, because you will attend to the oversight personally.”

  “Yes, sir. I will leave immediately.”

  ***

  Asteroid Defense Station 1437

  CIC

  Standard Earth Date December 18 3446

  When Jock’s pounding heart slowed a bit, he peered past the open door into the dark interior beyond. There was nothing moving.

  “The doors seem to be automatic and have their own power supply. I think… that’s a computer interface port. I’ll try to connect to it before I have to come back.”

  “I’ve got the panel off. Here’s the access port. I think. Patching in… Bird, can you get me a direct connection with our system?”

  “Bird? ENSIGN?”

  “Where the hell is he?” Jock asked the air around him. “At least I’ll be spared the laughing…”

  Jock turned back to console. “I’m connected to the Bug system. It is a binary computer. I should have a usable interface…”

  Jock saw his suits interface light up. “Good, ADS computer connection confirmed. Software interface with Bug system…”

  Jock scanned the area around him again as he waited for the software to hack into the alien computer.

  “Damned spooky.”

  “There it is. I’m in.”

  His life support running down, Jock returned to the ADS.

  Seated at his command console, Jock searched through the information on the Bug computer, recording his preliminary report as he went for a tight laser burst directly to the Nili Patera System Defense Complex.

  “I’ve found images of several classes of Bug ships. They are all warships. The Bug ship we captured here is a scout, looking for technologically active systems to target. The bright orange flash it sent out was a signal to attack us. They are from system known as Achird 12.

  “I’m looking at the power plant specs. The alien power source is five times as efficient as anything we have. They also have a shield system and projected energy weapons. Their weapons are far beyond anything we have. If I’m reading this right, twenty of these scout ships could wipe out humanity today. Their SOP says that there are much bigger ships coming. Much bigger ships.

  “The good news is that the Bugs do not hav
e a FTL drive. They can make zero-point-nine light speed though. So, I figure we have about forty-two years to get ready.

  “Lieutenant JG Jock MacAlister. End report”

  This was Jock’s last watch. He would go from here to join his already packed bags in the stealth probe for the trip back to Lunar Launch Station.

  And Ensign Emerson Bird was late.

  Screw this, I’m leaving! Jock had finally found the files Shannon had left him; everything they had discussed, written down in scientific text. He decided to absorb it all, along with what he had learned from the alien ship, on the two-week trip back.

  Jock left CIC, and jogged to his quarters where he barely slowed down to pick up his small bag. He got to the launch bay just in time to see Emerson Bird leaving it.

  ***

  S.T. Thistle

  Far Ort Cloud

  Standard Earth Date December 18 3446

  “Collision alert, darling. Collision alert, darling!” The computer’s sultry voice overpowered Dennis like cheap perfume. I have to stop trying to customize these things! I’m just no damn good at it.

  Dennis sat up and started playing on his control console. In a moment, the video screen showed a graphic of the Thistle’s course and speed and the course and speed of the unknown ship from in-system.

  “Damn, they must have left a lot sooner than I figured. Well, let’s pour the coal to her, then.” Dennis reached for the drive controls and slammed them past the safety stops. The Thistle’s acceleration at maximum thrust slammed him into the chair. Hard.

  “Oooohhhh, Shiiiiiiit!!!”

  ***

  Stealth Probe 4649

  Ort-Lunar Transit

  Standard Earth Date December 19 3446