The Turret: Starclan Foundation

by James McAlliater

  Lieutenant Kowalski deftly flew the shuttle around the monstrous ship, giving Jock an impromptu tour. Dozens of shield generators, sensors, plasma cannon, and railgun turrets dotted the exterior of the ship, with the exception of the hanger doors. They eventually came upon an open hanger, and flew in to land.

  Jock stood in the small cockpit of the shuttle, placing a hand on Kowalski’s shoulder. “Thanks, Lieutenant. I appreciated that.”

  “Yes, Sir! It’s not every day I get to shuttle an Ambassador who is also a retired Admiral, and his staff, Sir.”

  Jock smiled and walked back to the passenger area. “Everyone ready?”

  “We’re all a little eager to get going, Ambassador.” Mary MacAlister answered.

  The seven staff members stood and gathered their carry-on bags, then followed Jock to the exit. They watched him stand a little taller as the door opened.

  Jock strode smoothly down the ramp and onto the shuttle bay deck, walking up to the OD. He stopped, and had to catch his arm from saluting as he said, “Permission to come aboard, Sir!”

  “Permission granted. Welcome aboard, Ambassador!”

  ***

  Presidential Mansion

  Montreal

  Standard Earth Date February 26 3489

  “Dave, it is the only way I can be sure the end result is something I can live with. I don’t care about future political ramifications or exposures. You should know that!” President Sandy MacAlister leaned back in her chair, calmly confident in her decision.

  “Sandy, it’s my job to point these things out to you. You won the special election by a whisker. Campbell’s machine will never let go of the ‘fixed’ angle, their egos won’t let them. I agree with sending Jock as Ambassador to the Bugs, he’s the only one we could trust with it. But you have to know that if there is a truce, the Press will call you weak and concessionist. If we have to destroy them, you will be called Genocidal, vengeful, and worse. Sandy, there is no road to a win in this for you, only a path to the least amount of damage.”

  “And that path is the one I intend to follow, Dave. I’m interested in doing what is right for Humanity, what is morally right, not what is good for my political career. We must stay on that path, no matter what.”

  “That is why so many of us work so hard for you, Madam President.”

  ***

  USF Monitor

  Admiral’s Suite

  Standard Earth Date February 26 3489

  The decorations in Fleet Admiral Jericho Bucktooth’s office consisted of three pictures of his only granddaughter along the left side of his desk. It made it easier to move from his office on Earth to Mars, the moon, or a ship with minimal effort. He reached out and touched her face on the most recent one, from her tenth birthday party just a few weeks ago.

  “To protect you, Adsila”, his whisper interrupted by the door chime. He stood using the time it took walking to the door to compose himself.

  “Ambassador! Jock, good to see you!” Jeri gave his friend a solid handshake before pulling him into a hug. “Two A.M., UHRG loading room six. Alone,” he whispered. “How’s Corry? How’s the leg?”

  “Jeri, you look well. I’ve got a decent fit with this new prosthesis, so it’s a lot better. Corry is doing fine. She’s taken quite easily to being a full-time mother to Ranald. This ship is something!” Jock smiled as he searched his mentor’s eyes for a sign of the problem; what is it? He’ll give no clue just yet, I’ll have to wait.

  “We’ve been able to put everything you wanted into these four ships. We’ve even added a variation of Trap’s sandblaster point defense systems. And, Jock, we’ve also added Jack’s super beam to the bow and stern, with more power and better shielding. These four ships are impressive.

  “Are your quarters adequate, Ambassador?”

  “They’ll do nicely, Jeri. How is the fleet coming together?”

  “You know I can’t talk about that. I can relay information that may assist you in completing your mission. We will have enough firepower to eliminate six times the forces that attacked Earth. If it’s ten, we’re even. That’s without taking the Monitors or FTL tactics into account. You’ve been give the classified outline of the plan, take out their military, offer them terms, and see what happens. You have linguists along who think they can talk to the Bugs, I understand.”

  “Yes, Jeri. My mission is to try and find a solution that assures no further attacks from the Bugs without exterminating them. If possible.” Still no hint. This must be bad for him to compartmentalize it like this. And that classified crap. I’m married to his Commander In Chief! He figures his office is bugged. Damn. “Are you bringing all four of these Monitors or are you leaving some here?”

  “There will be adequate forces in place to protect the Earth. Now, Jock, what can you tell me about this theory that the Bugs wiped out the Birds?”

  “As you know, a scout-survey ship was sent to the assumed Bird homeworld. The data they brought back went straight to the President. Jeri, the most likely orbit for the Bird homeworld has only a spreading field of rocky debris in it. Three other regions in the system near gas giants have similar debris fields. Our best bet is that the moons and planets were all destroyed.”

  “Would Bug bombardment be able to do that?”

  “We doubt it, unless they used something much larger as projectiles. Still, it seems the only answer at this time.”

  “Unless there is someone else out there. Someone who did to the Birds what we’re getting ready to do to the Bugs right now.”

  “Yeah, well. Hrumpf! Would you like a view from the bridge of the departure tomorrow? It’s pretty damn spectacular.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it!”

  ***

  Chrysler Building

  55th Floor

  New York City

  Standard Earth Date February 26 3488

  The young girl sat shaking in the vast room, thinking that the huge room seemed to close in on her in the dark. The man sat in the corner, silent and unmoving, staring at her with eyes faintly glowing a pale pink. As she stared at the blank comm screen… well, it was not entirely blank; something moved about, touching her senses as a twilight swarm of gnats just on the edge of her field of vision. She had been sleeping at home, in her bed, and then she woke up here. That was four days ago. She swallowed hard, trying to remember the protections her grandmother had tried to teach her as she waited for IT to come back…

  “Soon. We will know soon, when IT returns…” the man in the corner softly growled.

  “I am thankful that I am alive and in health,” the girl began, “So, then now do you, Sky-Holder who lives in the sky, do you continue to listen? You next, the nocturnal Orb of Light, our Grandmother, and now also the Stars in many places, do you know that I have made plans to thank you?”

  SILENCE CHILD! We have everything in place. IT was back, words booming in her head.

  “Then, then, you’ll let me go?” She stood up, for her Grandfather had taught her to stand boldly in the face of Evil.

  Your Grandfather must live up to his end of the agreement. Only then will you be free of this place. Unless…

  “I, I will NEVER join you! You are evil! Stop asking me that! My spirit protector is here, now, so go away!” She imagined herself standing tall with the strong arms of a huge black bear protectively around her. Her faith in her family’s teachings was all she had to fight with.

  ***

  USF Dreadnought

  Bridge

  Standard Earth Date February 26 3489

  Admiral Mark Gordon looked around the bridge, watching the crew move about their tasks. This atmosphere is so different than the last engagement. Everyone was anxious, on edge, but focused and sharp. Now, they’re efficient and confident. Overconfident? I need to keep the confidence yet sharpen their focus. He shot a glance at Captain Charles Walker, catching the man’s eye. When Mark moved his eyebrow a fraction of a millimeter, Charlie hit the trigger under his finger, and the alarms shook
the ship.

  Ding-ding-ding.

  “ALERT!”

  Ding-ding-ding.

  “ALERT!”

  Ding-ding-ding.

  “ALERT!”

  “BATTLE STATIONS! Repeat, BATTLESTATIONS!” Lieutenant Alistair MacAlister’s voice calmly boomed throughout the ship.

  Mark watched the crew on the bridge move efficiently through the routine; they had done this hundreds of times in simulations and drills, and once in battle. He saw no hesitation, no wasted time, just the determined motions of professionals executing their assigned duties with efficient competence.

  “Twenty one seconds from initial alarm to ‘all battle stations ready’, Captain.”

  “This is the Captain. Well done! Secure from battle stations. That is all.”

  Charlie turned to the Admiral and winked. Mark looked back, the faintest of grins pulling at his mouth. That’s better than any drill before the battle. I feel better now. Much better.

  ***

  USF Monitor

  UHRG Loading Room Six

  Standard Earth Date February 27 3489

  Ambassador Jock MacAlister slid quietly through the hatchway at fifteen minutes before the indicated time. He scanned the huge room once for signs of life, then again to take in the immensity of the place. It was a roughly box-shaped area, forty feet to a side and twelve feet floor to ceiling. While the floor was painted a medium grey, the walls and ceiling were painted in an off-white, almost yellow color. Nearly every square inch was filled with massive machinery. Off to his left Jock noticed the huge enclosed ammunition feed housing that fed into the railgun’s breech. Just past that the magnetic drivers began coiling around the huge barrel as it disappeared towards the muzzle at the stern of the huge vessel, nearly a half mile away.

  There wasn’t much room for people in here. This area did not normally have a crew, it was an armored shell housing the automated loading mechanisms. The hatchway was only to allow for maintenance and battle damage repairs. The air buzzed with static charges, a constant humming droning on in the background, the odor of warm electrical circuitry and lubricants further crowding the room.

  A noise startled Jock. Something moved behind the driver coils, scurrying along, until it finally ran past Jock and through the hatchway into the corridor.

  “Everywhere man goes, mice follow, despite the best laid plans.” Jeri stepped through the hatchway and closed the hatch, latching it securely. Then he took out a thumb-sized device that he attached to the wall and handed two earplugs to Jock. He motioned for Jock to cover his ears even as he quickly covered his own. Then he hit a button on the device.

  Even through physical and electronic barrier of the plugs and his hands, the high-pitched warbling screech hurt Jock’s ears. It seemed to go on for much too long, until finally it stopped and a green light flashed twice on the device.

  “Sound will not pass through that hatch, and there are now no listening devices in here. Any people would have run screaming out unless their ears were protected.” Jeri said as he pocketed the device.

  “Jeri, what’s going on?”

  “Jock, there are some pretty big leaks in Fleet. Information about our ships and plans has gotten to the press.

  “Even worse, we’ve analyzed the Bug attack. Jock, we are ninety-two percent certain the Bugs primary objective was ADS 1437.”

  “Jeri, could that have been due to me snagging their scout ship there?”

  “That is the official word. The real data suggest something else entirely. Jock, we think they were after you.”

  Jock frowned at Admiral Bucktooth for several seconds, unsure how to respond to that, or what it could mean.

  “Did they have agents here? Why would they go after me? What purpose would that serve?”

  “We can’t get a clue as to communications techniques or motivations. We do know that Clark Campbell became a wealthy man exactly forty seconds after he recalled the Fleet. He hung you out to dry, Jock.”

  “OK, so what do we do…Sandy! Is she safe? Jeri, is she?” Jock grabbed his friend by the front of his shirt as horrendous images flew through his mind.

  “Relax. If assassination was an option, they would have taken you out that way. Besides, we have no indication the Secret Service has been compromised.”

  “So what do we do now?” Jock exhaled more air than he knew he’d taken in, but he still was nervous about his wife.

  “We follow Plan Delta, twelve light cruisers will scout the system, flying in at FTL, stopping for twenty seconds to snap pics, then FTL out. Once we know where their military is, we take them out. Then we move in and offer them the terms.”

  “And these moles don’t know this plan?”

  “The plan put in front of them was to fly in and stop in orbit, fight off any attacks while delivering our ‘ultimatum’.”

  “Someone fell for that? Are they that clueless?”

  “They think we’re that clueless.”

  “Well, we’d better make damn sure we disappoint them.”

  ***

  Presidential Mansion

  Montreal

  Standard Earth Date February 27 3489

  “Madam President, we now have word that there are protests organized in two hundred cities. This could be a security threat.”

  “I want every security officer to have their cams running. I want drones up as well. Pass the word, these cams and drones are to monitor the police. I don’t care what the protesters chant or curse. How long till air time?”

  “Ten seconds, Madam President.”

  “Okay, here we go.”

  “Good evening. I am talking with you tonight to announce the departure of our fleet. Their mission is a simple one, to assure the survival of Humanity.

  “Their task is not so simple. They will be arriving at the home world of the beings that attacked us last year by sending sixteen thousand asteroids at Earth. This attack, had it not been thwarted, would have ended all life on Earth.

  “Our fleet is not traveling to the alien homeworld to conquer or to exterminate those known popularly as “The Bugs”, but they will remove the alien’s ability to attack us again. In addition, we believe we can communicate with the aliens. Therefore, I have assigned retired Admiral Jock MacAlister to act as Ambassador, to attempt to come to an understanding with the aliens that would allow both of our civilizations to coexist peacefully.

  “Some among us think we should not be taking this trip, that we should just stay in our system and hope the aliens don’t attack again. I believe it is the right thing to do, to be proactive in this way, to be sure these aliens can never attack us again. Those who will be peacefully protesting this action have the right to do so. They have the right to disagree with me, to disagree with our government. That is our way, and it is our most important ideal that we not lose our way on this point! Rest assured that I will never veer from that path, even though it leads me away from this esteemed office.

  “On March tenth, I will resign from this office. I will not seek, nor will I accept another office in government, appointed or elected. Ever.”

  “Our brave men and women of the United Space Force have sacrificed greatly defending Earth. They are putting themselves in harms way yet once more for our sakes. Let us never forget the debt we owe them.

  “Good night, and God bless you all, even the protesters. And Godspeed, USF!”

  Chapter Ten

  USF Monitor

  Bridge

  Standard Earth Date February 28 3489

  Mary MacAlister stood uneasily on the bridge. She was thrilled to spend this much time with her father, yet she was uneasy standing on a warship. She had dedicated her life to peace, in a sense. After following her mother’s footsteps and graduating law school she had joined her mother’s old law firm, handling pro bono defense cases for those not able to afford quality legal counsel. Something told her she was needed elsewhere, so she had enrolled in theology school. Then her ministry had taken a back seat to her mothe
r’s political campaigns. That had been painful for her. Her mother was a good woman and would help those she could, but the campaigns were brutal, cruel, and personally destructive. Now here she was, standing amidst the largest instrument of destruction ever made by Man. With a hidden gun.

  Her father had been right, she knew. After what they did to her to try and hurt her mother, she knew that. She also knew no one would dare frisk or scan a priest.

  “A penny for your thoughts, Angel.” The softness of her father’s voice, the love it carried to her nearly made her blurt out, ‘Daddy’ and give him a hug. She smiled at him instead, shaking her head slightly. He would understand, then try to tell me why it has to be so. Oh, Father, you pull at my heart so!

  “Ten seconds. Is everyone ready?” Admiral Bucktooth’s question elicited nodding heads all around.

  “Three. Two. One. Now.” Lieutenant Alistair MacAlister proudly counted down for his father and his big sister. As he said the last word, the universe physically changed.

  Space in front of the huge ship shrank under the gravitic energies applied by the Monitor’s drive generators, even as the great ship’s engines pushed upon the fabric of space itself to thrust her ahead. In just three days, the USF Monitor and the rest of the fleet would travel nearly twenty light-years.

  To those watching the viscreens there on the bridge, the sight was wondrous. The area directly ahead of them played through a rainbow of colors as it shrank to an immensely bright pinpoint of light directly ahead, while the stars off to the sides began stretching from glowing dots into brightly smudged lines. Mary watched one begin as a tiny dot of light breaking from the central pinpoint ahead, moving up and along the right side of the viscreens surrounding the bridge, changing colors as it lengthened into a long thin line; then it began shrinking rapidly and changing color again as they passed it by.