I thought about that and about Holgotha’s prediction concerning our odds if we could first eliminate Abaddon. Even given that condition, the Forerunner artifact had given us terrible odds for winning.
“Do we have more than a ghost of a chance of defeating the Super Fleet?”
The Curator plucked at his beard. “I dislike interfering in such matters, as I am the Watchman. I have studied the various elements, though. If the Grand Armada could reach Earth first, you would have a fighting chance. To bring that about, the Earthlings and Starkiens would have to slow down the enemy’s advance to buy the Grand Armada the needed time.”
“When do I leave?”
“In a few hours,” he said. “I’ll take you in the Survey Vessel, of course, leaving you on…Mars, I suppose.”
I thought about that, about Dmitri and… “How’s Jennifer?” I asked.
The Curator looked away.
“Is she dead?” I asked.
“That’s an interesting question.”
“Please,” I said. “Let’s stop with the veiled references.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “The Jennifer you know is long gone. The person in her body is quite different and will never… It’s doubtful she will ever accept you no matter how well I can rehabilitate her. By that, I mean for her to see you will always mean her wanting to kill you.”
“You can’t ever change that?”
“Given a normal lifespan, I don’t think so. In several hundred years possibly…” He shrugged.
“I’m going to live several hundred years?”
“No.”
I frowned. “But Jennifer will live that long?”
“If she avoids any unforeseen accidents, yes,” he said.
“But…how can she live that long? Did Abaddon modify her?”
“He did, but not in that way. She will live those extra years because I’m keeping her in the Fortress of Light.”
“Hey,” I said, sitting straighter.
“Calm yourself, Commander. It is for the best.”
“But…I wanted to tell her…” I fell silent, brooding.
A person doesn’t always get what they want. I’d wanted to defeat Abaddon with all my friends still alive. That hadn’t happened. Good old Dmitri Rostov was dead. I would miss my old friend. I would miss his cheerfulness. It seemed so wrong that he was dead. He had been with me from the beginning of this grand adventure.
Now, Jennifer would be taken from me yet again. Yet…maybe only the Curator had the tools to restore her. Weren’t my desires regarding her selfish. I wanted her to love me again. I wanted her to understand why I’d done what I had back at the portal planet. What did Jennifer want in this life other than slitting my belly? The Curator seemed like her best bet at becoming normal again. I should give her that.
I didn’t have to feel bad about this then.
“Will I ever see her again?” I asked.
“Perhaps if I call you to my service,” the Curator said.
I had so many questions I wanted to ask. The critical factor for me though was the Super Fleet. Despite Abaddon’s death, it was still zeroed in on Earth like a guided missile. A feeling of deja vu struck. This seemed an awful lot like the Purple Emperor coming to destroy Earth three years ago. But this time I didn’t have a way to end everything with a royal duel. This time, I’d have to defeat the enemy fleet with our supposedly inferior but more numerous starships.
I looked up at the Curator. “I have two requests before I go, and one before you take me back to Mars.”
“What are they?” he asked.
I told him.
He looked away. “Your requests smack too closely of interference on my part.”
“After what I’ve done for you, you can’t do this for me?”
He glanced at me, frowning. Had I gone too far? “Very well,” he said heavily. “But we will have to hurry.”
-46-
Before I began my great task, I had an obligation to take care of. I’d been thinking about it as the Curator had spoken to me.
I would leave the Fortress of Light, but Jennifer would stay behind.
She hated me. I’d seen that with my own eyes. It had been difficult to take. Out of all of my actions during my life, leaving Jennifer behind on the portal planet had felt the worst. It rankled in my spirit.
I’d lived hard. I’d taken little to no crap from anyone. Yet, I had learned a lesson in life. When one was truly at fault, and when one accepted in his heart that he was a fault, it was good to admit it.
I opened a door in a special area of the Fortress. I walked softly, entering the dark chamber.
“Dim light,” I said.
A dim light filled the room. I could see Jennifer asleep in a horizontal glass tube. Alongside her were banks of medical equipment and monitors. She had several medical tubes in her arms and a band over her forehead.
I approached the glass with a host of conflicting emotions roiling in my heart. For a brief time in my life, I’d had my true love. I looked through the glass at Jennifer. I hardly recognized her. Abaddon had done so much to modify her. Jennifer had never deserved this.
I swallowed hard.
I’d put her out of my mind many years ago because I couldn’t stand the guilt otherwise. Now, gazing down at her—
I closed my eyes. For several breaths…what do you want to hear? I’d failed Jennifer. I’d left her behind in the hands of the devil. I hadn’t had any choice in the matter. If I’d done otherwise—
I opened my eyes and I put both hand on the warm tube, looking down at her.
“I don’t think you can hear me,” I said. “But maybe in some manner you will know I came by. Jennifer, honey, I’m so sorry I left you behind. It was wrong. I had no choice. I wish you could forgive me. I realize you can’t, and that’s…that’s what it is. I hope you find peace here at the Fortress of Light. I hope you find what Abaddon stole from you. I don’t think you’d feel better after killing me, but heck, maybe you would. Maybe I should offer you my throat to show you how bad I feel.”
I exhaled, turning away from her.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I love you, for whatever that’s worth. Maybe someday we’ll meet again after the Curator has healed your mind. Can someone untwist all the bad things Abaddon did to you? That seems like a monumental task. I’m glad the Curator is keeping you. I was going to have Ella put you under the Jelk mind machine. I think that would have been wrong, though.”
I frowned. I was running out of time. What else could I tell her?
The door opened. The Curator looked in.
“Give me just a few more seconds, would you?” I said.
He nodded, closing the door behind him.
I turned and looked down at Jennifer for what could be the last time. My heart was heavy, but I was glad I could see her and tell her how sorry I was.
I wanted to open the tube. I wanted to kiss her, touch her and hold her tight. I wanted to stroke her cheek and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Instead, as I’d done on the portal planet, I left her behind.
Does that make me sound bitter? I guess I was. I suppose it was impossible to fix every wrong. It left me determined to be grateful for what I had when I had it. I should have enjoyed Jennifer’s company more in the little time we had together.
“Good-bye,” I said.
Then, I hurried out of the chamber. I couldn’t take any more of this.
***
The Curator stood beside me in the viewing chamber. He showed me the Super Fleet.
It was big, just as it always had been. Still, it was missing a few gigantic snowflake motherships and some battlejumpers. The old man had shown me the wreckages that had come from the brief power struggle.
Alexander the Great had been one of Earth’s greatest conquerors. He had marched through the Persian Empire and later added parts of India to his vast realm. He’d had big plans for Carthage and the rest of the western Mediterranean but had died of a fever before he c
ould implement them. Some figured he might have died by poisoning. Alexander had left some of the world’s toughest generals behind, and they’d soon had a falling out with each other. The greatest of them had picked parts of the vast realm, setting up independent states. Those states had fought the Successor Wars.
My point is that Alexander’s generals hadn’t stayed together to increase the conqueror’s realm.
Abaddon’s Super Fleet was staying together. Clearly, there had been a short, sharp fight among some of the leaders. No doubt, the fight had determined who would rule, who would obey and who had to die. This Karg Overlord must be several times stronger, smarter, tougher or more ruthless than his competitors. He’d quashed them. That would seem to include whatever Jelk had remained with the fleet. Otherwise, those battlejumpers would have gone elsewhere with their Saurian crews.
I studied the enemy fleet. I made notes, recording them with my Lokhar-made tablet.
“Can you show me their likely route to Earth?” I asked.
The Curator looked down at me with an unblinking stare.
“Does that mean no?” I asked.
“You are stretching my limits,” he said at last.
“I don’t mean to.”
“Nevertheless,” he said.
I went back to studying the fleet, using what time I had left.
Then old man sighed, surprising me as he showed me the most likely route to the Solar System.
I made sure to keep the alien recorder going. I was going to use this data to try to figure out a way to beat them and save humanity once again.
-47-
So…Claath and Abaddon were dead. Jennifer was free from her enforced servitude and in the best place in the galaxy where she might rehabilitate her body, mind and spirit.
I’d achieved some of my greatest desires. The most important want, however, was yet to be fulfilled. The Earth, and humanity with it, was under a dire threat. As far as I could see, this was the big one that might solve a lot of our future problems. If the Jade League could annihilate the Karg-Jelk Super Fleet, we could finish off the Jelk Corporation for good. Humanity could then start thinking about colonizing the nearest Jelk frontier planets.
I had been to Sagittarius A* and back. I’d been in hyperspace before and another space-time continuum. I’d handled weapons and worn suits that belonged in a super-science museum. As Star Vikings, we’d teleported on a Forerunner artifact. Later, as Earth Force assault troopers, we’d teleported inside an ancient Survey Vessel and had used incredible T-suits.
In the end, though, I was back to bio-skin assault troopers, shuttles and starships, and I was back to the friends humanity had made these past years.
The Curator’s Survey Vessel made a slight detour before taking us to Mars. It transferred to the Pollux System, the present location of the Grand Armada. It contained an even greater number of warships than the Super Fleet.
Our appearance caused a commotion in the vast armada until I spoke via screen to the commanding Baron Visconti of Orange Tamika. In the past, we’d worked together while facing Purple Tamika’s monster fleet.
Visconti was a good tiger and one of the biggest I’d ever met. The Lokhar stood a good seven and a half feet tall, a towering individual. Even better, he had the widest and deepest chest I’d ever seen on a Lokhar.
Baron Visconti was the armada’s Lord Admiral and wore a tight-fitting uniform with several medals for courage and cunning.
The Grand Armada had a multitude of vessels from the various races that made up the Jade League. It had masses of pursuit destroyers, hordes of strike and attack cruisers and an unbelievable number of mainline carriers. Yet for all that, its real power lay in the Orange and Purple Tamika specialty vessels. Orange Tamika fielded maulers. They were round vessels with five times the mass of a battlejumper.
All the Grand Armada’s battlejumpers belonged to the Earth Force contingent, by the way.
In any case, maulers were heavy hitters, able to absorb an appalling amount of damage and still keep coming. Yet, they weren’t the largest ships in the Grand Armada. That went to the Purple Tamika bombards. They had massively armored hulls and double-strength shields. Their weakness was a lack of speed. They were best used in massed battles.
In many ways, the Grand Armada was like an old-style Greek phalanx. It did best in head-to-head encounters. Many space battles, however, were more hit-and-run or hide-and-ambush affairs.
Could we get this mass in front of the Super Fleet and force the enemy to fight the way we wanted? Those were pretty big ifs.
“We have little time for such a delay,” the Curator told me.
“Give me an hour with them, no more,” I said.
“An hour,” he said sourly.
I still spoke via screen to Baron Visconti and told him I’d like to meet on his flagship. He agreed.
Soon, N7 and I flew in a shuttle to Visconti’s flagship mauler. It felt strange marching down a Lokhar battle-craft again. The old tiger smells, the fierce looks they gave me…it brought back memories, all right.
I wore my most stylish uniform with the .44 on my hip. The Lokhars viewed my Magnum with something approaching awe.
I entered a large conference chamber. I saw old Admiral Saris of Purple Tamika and others I recognized from years ago.
Baron Visconti approached. He’d put on weight since I’d last seen him, and there were streaks of white in his facial fur. He was still impressive, maybe more so.
We embraced and shook hands. Then, I scanned the throng. “I have little time,” I told them. “And I’m not sure you’ll believe all I’ve been through. Here’s the key part. Abaddon is dead.”
That created a stir and then bedlam.
After half a minute of excited chatter among those present, the baron rose. He’d sat down once I’d begun addressing the assembly. Visconti roared in a loud voice as only Lokhars can do, bringing silence to the great chamber. It was a good thing, too, as I’d been about to fire my .44 to get their attention.
“You said you are in a rush, Commander,” Visconti said.
I nodded.
“And your moon-ship…appeared before the armada like a Forerunner artifact. It also fits the description of the attack vessel that raided many of our star systems.”
I stared at the assembled tigers, Ilk and others. I’d been wondering for some time how to get them to listen and do what I told them without hours of convincing. Finally, I took out my recorder and showed them a holographic image of the enemy’s Super Fleet.
That got their attention in a hurry.
“If you’ll listen to me,” I said, “I’ll tell you how to defeat the Karg-Jelk Invasion Fleet.”
“We are listening,” Visconti told me.
I began to tell them how to do the improbable.
***
Afterward, I returned to the Survey Vessel. An hour later, the Curator brought us to Mars. He also returned the borrowed T-scanner to Holgotha. Then, the First One left, taking all the Forerunner artifacts with him. They had been staying near Ceres, protecting Holgotha.
The Curator had told the artifacts that they were in the wrong zone. From now on, each zone and cultural level would have to fight within the proper technological weapons it was allowed.
In case you’re wondering, I’d asked him about the moth-ships and the remaining Jelk. They used highly advanced weapons and ship systems greater than this fringe zone should allow. The Curator had hemmed and hawed, finally saying that we had our advanced experiences to offset those powers.
That was just great. The Super Fleet was partly composed of ships from another space-time continuum. On various occasions, those moth-ships had done a number against Lokhar dreadnaughts and Jelk battlejumpers. They were the best fighting vessels for the coming encounter, better even than the Purple Tamika bombards. How could Earth Force and the Starkien Fleet slow them down long enough to bring the Grand Armada into play as I’d planned? Maybe as importantly, how could the Grand Armada defeat a Supe
r Fleet only slightly less numerous than itself?
I had my answer, but I had to wait to let others in the Solar System in on it. First, I let them spout off in order to get it out of their systems. We met in a big auditorium on Mars, with a gigantic screen behind me. Earth’s Prime Minster was in attendance, the various flotilla chiefs, including First Admiral Rollo Anderson, and Baba Gobo and my old friend Kaka Ro, a Starkien war-leader.
Baba was the size of a baboon with similar fur. He had two yellowed canines at the end of a wrinkled muzzle and must have weighed ninety pounds. He had an old man’s belly and a snow-white mane like a lion. Instead of sitting on a chair, Baba sat on a small raised dais where his chair would have been.
Beside him sat Kaka Ro, a younger, sleeker, darker-furred and very cunning Starkien commander.
We had Earth Force, the Starkien Fleet and several flotillas from nearby races. That was a pittance compared to the coming Super Fleet.
After hours of debate, I figured the time was right to start talking.
“We have one advantage,” I told the assembled throng. “We know their destination—Earth. My suggestion is simple. We need to seed their path with massed drones and missiles, striking in such a way that they slow down to take care of each threat.”
Using the screen and showing them the Super Fleet’s likely path, I outlined the strategy.
There was silence afterward. The strategy called for a vast expenditure of missiles. That meant stripping them from every available source. I would take them from Earth’s silos and from our battlejumpers and escort vessels. That would leave our ships and Earth’s layered defense woefully short of missiles during the main battle.
“I do not like to disagree with you, Commander,” Baba Gobo said. “But I believe that’s too wasteful of our resources. It is also a grave risk, leaving us with too little on the day we will need everything.”
“I agree with our good Starkien neighbor,” Diana said promptly.
What was the old saying: a prophet was never honored in his hometown?
Fortress Earth (Extinction Wars Book 4) Page 26