Distant Children_Book 1_Invasion

by Darold Higa

  Rick looked at the sleek computer core in front of him. The cores that were going into the Linodan fleet were at least three years ahead of anything currently installed on a warship in Humanspace. The Spincorans seemed to be really fast at procuring new technologies. He was used to working with the Federal Space Patrol, with the kilometers of red tape, endless meetings and terabits of documentation. Congress was still engaged in debate over Hamilton's proposed Space Patrol refit bill, meaning that Tyberian Engineering and even Reynolds Computing might catch up to Newport Cybernetics by the time the bidding process was over. He thought it was sad that it took so long for technology that was in the commercial sector to make it into military hardware. The cores going into Linodan fleet were probably even faster than the latest cores installed at major corporations, a rarity for military contracts in Renspa, but apparently pretty commonplace in Spincora. Of course, these systems were so complex and runtime-dynamic it did make Rick wonder if he really did understand every part of the system he had designed.

  He decided he didn't jump into this stream to think about work, so he shifted his attention to the princess. Seeing the princess on the dance floor was amazing. He found himself watching her every move: the curves of her body, or the way the dress she wore seemed to obey or even anticipate every motion. At that moment he realized that he had been so focused on her as a client, he hadn't really noticed her as a woman. She was beautiful, graceful and intelligent. Amid his thoughts, the dance ended and she sat down. He almost jumped streams to coverage for the President’s cousin when he saw the Princess kick a waiter and take a gun out of his hands. She promptly shot the waiter, then threw some liquid into the air revealing a soldier in some kind of chameleon armor. She expertly shot again and took the camouflaged soldier down. Suddenly there were guys with guns all over the floor, and there was the princess taking them out one at a time. His jaw dropped. It was like one of those stylized action movies, except from the data feed watermark, it was obvious this was no movie. To be sure, he flipped to another news feed. There had been cyberterror attacks before, hacking in alternate visuals over newscasts. Most of the time it was a prank or industrial memetic warfare. But as he expected, the same images were being broadcast all over the net.

  As the coverage continued, bodyguards with pistols and Renspan Federal Troops with rifles entered the fray against the attackers. Supplemental information was already streaming in from bloggers and indie sites. They had already identified the attackers' weapons as Narthian Type 57 Submachineguns, and something called Type 61 active optical camouflage. Another datastream reported that this was Narthian R7 Special Forces, while a conspiracy datastream popped up suggesting that it was an ultra-right terrorist organization trying to turn Spincora against Renspa. Next thing he knew there was a flood of other streams reporting all kinds of things, like the appearance of a huge number of warships in the Newport system, or frantic calls to all levels of government. Backing out of the party datastream he could see that traffic in the Newport node was huge, but traffic out of the system seemed to have bottle-necked. In fact, traffic models of the system were showing that most of the Renspan net was out of contact with the Newport node, except through a couple of routing systems that looked like they were going to fail at any moment.

  Rick could tell that there was a massive cyberattack underway on the remaining routers that fed information in and out of the Newport system. Newport Cybernetics happened to be one of the few systems that had channels established off-world, and even though they were ultra-secure lines for intracorporation communications, he could already see the bandwidth redlining as all kinds of traffic hacked into the lines to piggyback signals in and out of Newport. The Newport Cybernetics security team and the formidable security AIs were maxed out just trying to hold the line. It looked like communications with home office would get tricky.

  Rick picked up his personal comm to try and get hold of Rachel and the rest of the team back at the office. The signal was dead. Before he could put the comm unit down however, it began to ring. All forms of caller identification were blank. He responded with a cautious hello.

  "Rick, this is Dale." Rick could hear gunfire in the background.

  "Yes, sir?"

  Rick had only spoken twice to the head of Newport Cybernetics, but his voice was so well known he knew immediately who it was. Once Rick had spoken to him at a party where he was briefly introduced to the CEO. Newport Cybernetics was a huge company, and he thought he was privileged to meet one of the most famous CEOs in the technology world. The second time is when he was briefing his team on the Linodan contract. Old Man Sanchez walked into the meeting and gave them a pep talk. Blanchard had remembered it because for the seven years he had been with the company, the CEO had never before sat in on what he considered to be a low-level operational meeting.

  "Rick, let me cut to the chase as I have to make a lot of calls, and I only have a few minutes of time on this military channel. As you might have already guessed, we are at war with Narthia. I'm not a really political guy, but I don't want those Lunarian bastards running humanspace. I know this is asking a lot, but just in case the rest of the Newport Cybernetics people get off the ship, can you remain on board? I heard you are one of our best, and I want you to support the Spincorans as much as you can. After seeing that Princess handle those jerks like that, I know that we gotta help Spincora. Sometimes I think our country is pretty stupid, I've already heard talk about surrender. Like hell I'm gonna hand over all our technology to the Narthians without a fight! Is that OK with you?"

  Rick was numb. He knew that what Sanchez was asking for was very risky. Sanchez was notorious as a shrewd businessman, but this didn't sound like this was a monetary decision. Rick just assumed that Newport Cybernetics would just as gladly install cybernetic AI cores in Narthian ships.

  "Um, sir...I..."

  "Look, Rick, time is short and while we don't know each other personally, I'm going to risk my own ass here telling you this. Even if Newport falls, I intend to do everything to resist the Narthians. You know I'm serious. How about it?"

  Now Rick understood why Dale Sanchez was one of the most successful business leaders in humanspace. Not able to resist, he replied, "OK. I'll do my best, Dale."

  "Thanks Rick. You're one of my front line soldiers now. I appreciate it. I'll do my best to make contact with you when I can. Expect your program team at the home office to transfer somewhere where they can continue to support your efforts. I know this sounds cliché, but your nation, and more importantly to me at least, I thank you. Now can you brief the rest of your team and see how many of them will join you? Oh, and please be discreet about the resistance part. I have a feeling that things are going to get messy here really soon."

  Rick hung up the personal comm unit, and sat in silence for a full minute. He noticed his bottle of soda next to him on the console. He gulped the rest of it down, sighed, and got out of the surround datatank. All those years at engineering school to stay out of the military, and now this. He shook his head and made his first call, rounding up his crew scattered across the Linodan fleet.

  Captain Cadwell looked at the bleak situation in the datatank before her. The glowing icons floating in mid air showed 100,000 Narthian ships, split into two main groups of roughly 40,000 ships each, approaching the Space Docks at Newport. Two smaller groups had approached the HyNet gates north and south of the system plane, cutting off any ships that lacked deep-space drives from entering or leaving the system. Because of Admiral Huffington's decision not to dock Carrier Groups 1 and 2, there were 1,000 ships of the 7th Fleet and 5,000 ships of Linodan's Fleet on the far side of Newport. In spacedock were 4,000 ships of the 7th Fleet, along with the 10,000 ships of the 2ndand 3rd Fleets. The 1st Fleet, 4th Fleet, 10th Fleet and 11th Fleet were at least 10 hours away, with the rest of the Space Patrol's Navy scattered to the far reaches of the Federation.

  At that moment, her thoughts were interrupted by a transmission from Central Command. "Captain Cadw
ell, Admiral Raleigh on the Joint Chiefs Secure Channel wants to communicate with you. Carrier signal and voice profile authenticated."

  "Please put her through."

  "Aye aye ma'am."

  Admiral Virginia Raleigh, an older woman with long red hair appeared in the datatank. Usually she was a graceful figure, delivering calm and decisive testimony on the Senate floor, requesting additional resources for the Space Patrol, or advocating a closer alliance with Spincora. While still retaining a deliberate demeanor, signs of stress were visible. "Captain Cadwell, as ranking officer on the 7th Fleet I will give you a full operational briefing. I expect that the rest of your CIC staff will suspend what they are doing and pay attention to the briefing as well." Cadwell glanced around the CIC, noting that all of her crew had stopped what they were doing.

  Noting Cadwell's nod, Admiral Raleigh continued. "Orbital Command has informed me that they predict that they will be able to scramble around 3,000 ships from spacedock in the next hour as the Narthians enter weapons range of the space docks. This will be an ad hoc fleet composed of different ship types, predominantly from the 7th Fleet, but including ships from 2nd and 3rd fleets. Unfortunately many crew members had already been rotated off ship for shore leave, so most of these 3,000 ships deployed will be a random mix of crews and will not be at full operational capacity. Central Command indicates that there is active bubblespace jamming at all of the Newport System's main military transmission sites, and the civilian system appears to be under cyberattack and is almost completely unusable for secure, authenticated communications. News of the invasion has leaked to the press, adding additional confusion as civilian ships of all kinds have begun to fill Newport's already crowded space lanes. The Orbital Guard is already reporting that panic stricken civilian ships are violating control marked space. All this confusion means that although the Orbital Defense System is active, we may not be able to use it to avoid unnecessary civilian casualties. We have also been informed that Narthian R5 commandos may hold the skyhook terminal facility control center and both skyhook terminus sites, so it appears that we are unable to sever the skyhooks at this time."

  Cadwell knew this was bad. If the skyhooks could not be severed, it would be difficult to defend Newport without a lot of casualties. Each one of those skyhooks was like a bridge between space and the ground. If the Narthians were forced to land powersuits via shuttle or orbital drop, even with the navy gone it would be possible for surviving Renspan Ground Patrol forces to shoot them down with minimal civilian casualties. With the skyhooks intact, thousands of powersuits and powerarmors could be quickly brought down into the most urban areas of Newport in a matter of hours. Fighting the Narthians in the cities could be done, but with such short notice there would be no way to evacuate the civilians from the war zones. Using fusion bombs on the skyhooks, which was part of doctrine under such circumstances, would probably kill hundreds of thousands of citizens.

  The Admiral paused, took a deep breath and continued. "Operation Clausewitz, the planned evacuation of the Civil Authority in case of invasion, is underway, but because of the surprise this attack has achieved, it appears that the plan has already fallen apart, and only a handful of the Harrington administration or congress has been prepared for evacuation." The admiral paused again, apparently receiving information offscreen.

  "Admiral Huffington will assume command of the ad hoc fleet, which will be designated the 101st Reserve Fleet. Admirals Johnston and McKinley have volunteered to remain at space dock to organize the remains of the 2nd and 3rd Fleets if possible." The Admiral paused again, this time with a more softened tone. "Right now you represent the only fully operational mobile assets in-system. Carrier groups 1 and 2 are now designated the 7th Fleet. Captain Cadwell, effective immediately you will carry the rank of Commodore. The 7th Fleet is now under your command."

  All eyes in the CIC turned towards Ellen. Commodore Cadwell hid any outward reaction, but she could feel the crushing weight of responsibility suddenly placed on her. She slowly nodded at Admiral Raleigh. Responding with all the composure she could muster, she asked "Orders for the 7th, Admiral?"

  Alicia knew the tide had turned. Because the Governor's Ball had been planned hastily, the R7 commandos had never intended to engage in a full open frontal assault. With the arrival of the Renspan Ground Patrol security team stationed nearby, they were clearly outgunned. The R7 team had most likely planned on setting up sniper teams around the city to take out key military commanders, including herself. When the governor decided to throw this event, and since the timing coincided with the arrival of the invasion force, they were probably forced to change plans mid-operation. The fact that they were able to infiltrate the event on such short notice spoke volumes to the skill of the R7 forces. She knew that since President Hamilton was originally scheduled to attend, the Renspan Presidential Security Service had probably been involved in security right up to the point where Hamilton had to cancel.

  Tide turned or not, this firefight was a delay that prevented her from returning to her fleet. With the Renspan 2nd, 3rd and 7th fleet in disarray in space dock, she had the only full strength fleet in operational status. She didn't have the authorization by her commanders to surrender her forces to Renspan command, so right now all they could do was defend themselves. Captain Petrova was a capable commander, but Alicia knew she wouldn't be able to face down 20 times her own number. Alicia wasn't sure she could face down 20 times her own number either, but she had a duty to give it her best effort. Alicia looked over at Largo. As the firefight had continued, they had managed to obtain another SMG and spare clips from the optic camouflage commando that Alicia had killed earlier. Fortunately the exit had been secured by Renspan forces. Unfortunately the exit was on the other side of the grand hall. As a young man made a sprint for the exit, a single shot silently cut through the air and hit him squarely in the head. As he fell to the ground a second, follow up shot hit him in the chest, for good measure. The pile of uniformed Renspan Ground Force bodies near the entrance indicated why they had been unable to move in any further. "I just hope the three Admirals got out of this mess," she thought to herself.

  "I am certainly impressed in your ability to kill four of these commandos. They seem quite skilled." Largo muttered very softly.

  "Did you get an angle on that sniper?"

  "Not really, Alicia. Between the optical camo and the flash suppression, its hard to make out the location of the shooter."

  Alicia frowned. If he started using her first name, then things were no longer a joke. He doesn't see a clear way out of this either, she thought to herself. Her mind raced. "Why were they using a sniper now? If they had a sniper up there from the start, they didn't need to get so close to take a shot at the head table. That means the second floor was too open to secure quickly..." Without saying a word, she made several combat gestures at Largo, who nodded in affirmation. In an instant, the two were on the move.

  Alicia and Largo had left the safety of the head table, and had made their way to the far edge of the grand hall exactly opposite the entrance to the ballroom. Here a giant staircase led up to the second floor balcony where the media had been assigned special seating. Bodies littered the floor. By the looks of the corpses, the Narthian special forces didn't refrain from killing members of the press. Carefully, Alicia covered Largo as he made his way up the first flight of steps to a platform halfway between the floors. He quickly gave her the "clear to my position" signal.

  Unable to move silently with her ballroom high-heeled shoes, Alicia went barefoot, leaving her shoes at the base of the stairway. Able to move more freely, she quickly made her way a little past Largo's position. She had to concentrate to make sure that the fabric in her dress did not make too much noise. Thankfully the Federal forces had chosen that exact moment to send in two powersuits, which was causing considerable commotion. Because powersuits were considered frontline military hardware, most security details at high profile events with lots of media coverage avoided
stationing them too close. As a result it took more than a few minutes to get them onto the scene. With the additional armor and firepower of the powersuits, the Federal Ground Forces had decided they were ready to make another attempt at breaching the grand hall. During the noise, Largo spotted one of the waiters guarding the top of the staircase. Alicia did some quick thinking. It made sense that the Narthians had placed very little watch over the stairwell. Since all of the security forces in the Hall had been eliminated, and since they had managed to pin down the forces attempting to enter the Hall, the stairway need not be well guarded. Largo lined up the guard without being spotted and let go a quick burst from the SMG. The figure dressed in the waiter outfit crumpled to the ground. Largo turned to Alicia and gave her the hand signal for “clear to top.”

  Hoping that the confusion down below prevented anyone from noticing the now dead guard, Alicia signaled to Largo and charged up the second flight of stairs to the second floor balcony that rimmed the grand hall. As she got to the top of the stairs, she could see that most of the press had either escaped or were dead on the ground. Eerily, some of the cameras that the media had set up to shoot the activities down below were still recording. The R7 commandos had apparently only bothered to disable cameras showing the second floor, Alicia noted. With the second floor clear of anyone monitoring them, the remaining commandos were using their vantage point to make a stand against the assaulting Federal Ground Forces.