by Chris Hechtl
Climbing back up to the truck was a pain but worth it since he didn't intend to go back down. He made his final report and then waited. “Roger,” HQ replied. “RTB.”
“Roger. Returning to base,” the corporal said. He made a motion to pack up and then head back to town.
They passed the Smith farm on their way back but didn't stop even though they were hungry. The corporal wanted to get home to his post before something stupid happened there.
<)>^<)>/
Kevin saw the truck roar past. He felt a sense of intense relief. He looked over to his brothers and sisters. They all looked troubled. “I think we're in the clear,” he said.
“Don't jinx it,” Jon rumbled. “Come on, we've got to finish this up,” he said, indicating the chicken coop. Kevin nodded dutifully and then went back to patching the roof and side.
Chapter 22
Five weeks after they were given the go order, the North Hampton class light cruisers Mikhail Kutuzov and Wanda Lu jumped into the Destria star system one light minute short of the normal jump zone. They probed the star system carefully with passive sensors and RECON drones before they switched to active sensors and moved in deeper. “There aren't any ships in orbit. CIC is picking up satellites however,” the sensor officer reported.
“Understood. Guns, I want RECON probes sent out in every direction. I don't want to get caught with our pants down around our ankles like Firefly did,” Captain Casper Boo intoned. The lieutenant commander was a pure white Neocat with pale blue eyes and an unenviable name. He made up for it by doing his job to the best of his ability. He had Lieutenant Commander Maggie Courtland by date of rank despite the fact that the two of them had graduated in the same class. He had a shade more experience in the hot seat than she did and liked to rib her about it.
The one limited good thing that had happened after Firefly had stepped on its sword was that the poor showing had been a wake-up call to the rest of the military. The gory example of overconfidence made them all think twice and look twice at unknown star systems before they moved in closer. Suspicion and caution was now ingrained into their psyche all over again. No one wanted to fall into the same trap, not if they could help it.
“No, sir. Definitely not. RECON shell launch in five, sir. We'll need to coordinate with Wanda Lu to get it right.”
“Then do so,” the captain ordered.
<)>^<)>/
As they moved cautiously through the star system over the course of several days, their RECON shell reported no sign of enemy ships. There were also no ion trails except old ones in and out.
“They've got a dozen satellites in orbit, Skipper,” the CIC rating reported when they moved within five light minutes of the planet.
“Can we hit them from this far out, Guns?” the captain asked, eying the Relgarth TACO.
“I believe so,” the reptile hissed, scanning her instruments. First Lieutenant Warm Blood IXL was very good at her job, and like any good tactical officer, she was a bit blood thirsty. She also wanted to learn martial arts with the marines; however, she had a bad habit of biting, clawing, and savaging an opponent when in unarmed combat training so they'd banned her, respectively of course.
“KEW strikes. Hit them from here if you can. Each one you miss means you owe a lap around the ship,” the skipper said. “Fire when ready.”
“Consider it done,” the Relgarth hissed.
“Hopefully right,” the helm rating murmured to his partner. That tail of hers can seriously bruise some shins in passing,” he muttered.
The captain's long sensitive ears picked up the remark. They flicked to the humans, then back to the Relgarth. She tapped at her controls like a maestro. This would be her first live fire against an enemy so she wanted to get it right he noted. Besides, she hated to run, which was why he'd put that up as the stakes.
“Got it?” he asked, sitting back and pretending to waggle his thumbs. One of the greatest things his creators had done was to give them thumbs he thought.
“Just a moment,” the Relgarth said.
“Anytime,” the captain teased, flicking his ears.
“Got it. Two are behind the planet so there will be a delay in launching. I split the fire with Wanda Lu's tactical department.”
“So if they miss, you get to run anyway? You really are confident …,” the captain said.
The Relgarth looked up in surprise tongue flicking. “Wait …”
“Fire,” the captain said, pointing a finger like a gun.
“Firing,” the reptile said obediently.
After a moment, the rail guns fired six times from each ship. The small tungsten rounds flew inward ahead of them at nearly half the speed of light.
“Sensors, how are we doing with the scans of the planet? Do they match what we know?”
He was referring of course to what little data they had on file about the planet and star system. Most of it had been pulled directly from the Encyclopedia Galactica files and was therefore woefully out of date. The little trade information they had gotten had been geared more for contacts and trade interests than the planet or population. They knew players on the planet, but the knowledge was years old.
And since the Horathians had invaded the planet, most of those people were either dead, hostages, or helping their conquers like bootlicking lackeys he thought. Or, just maybe, a few might be fighting back. Maybe. He had his doubts though.
“Not much from this distance, Skipper. There is a hurricane off the east coast of one of the continents. When we get in closer, we'll get better resolution from the sensors to do a proper comparison,” the CIC rating said.
“As I thought,” the captain said. He nodded once. “Com? Traffic?”
“All local, Captain. Nothing towards us. I doubt they even knew we entered the star system,” the com rating reported.
“Good,” the captain said with a feline predatory smile. “All the better.”
<)>^<)>/
Electronic techs across the planet began to curse and then scramble to figure out what was going on when their satellite network went out.
The more they tried to figure out the problem, the more the techs swore as they realized it wasn't a simple glitch. They scrambled to find an answer as the officers began to find out that they could no longer communicate with their far-flung units. Desperate techs tried different satellites as they came over the horizon. When that didn't work, they did their best to diagnose the problem, thinking it was on their end. They tried different satellite dishes and even went to the point of breaking out and installing spare electronic equipment. Nothing seemed to work.
General Drier stormed in to his command center, demanding answers when the problem wasn't immediately rectified. “Sir, we're not sure why it happened; the only thing we can think of is a possible solar storm. An electromagnetic burst could have fried all the satellites in its path.”
“Find out!”
“We can't get a response from any of the satellites, sir,” Private Cho said hunching his shoulders in expectation of getting hit.
“Damn it,” General Drier muttered, fists clenching in impotent rage. He turned accusing eyes on the sky. “What the hell is going on up there?” he demanded.
“Wrong direction for hell, sir,” Private Cho muttered.
“Find out or I'll have your ass!” The general snarled as he turned a fulminating look on the comm tech and then stormed off.
He had a date to check out the progress on the gas chambers. He intended to find out why some of the camps weren't keeping up with the quota.
And with the satellite network down, he had to rely on ham radio messages for long distance communication or the local radio network he realized. It meant his people were in trouble of being defeated in detail if there was a sudden insurrection.
He considered the possibility of the small resistance bands finding a way to knock out his network. A computer virus might do it … but the locals had little computer literacy, so he put that thought down to a lo
w order of probability.
If the damn techs didn't figure it out soon, he'd have to have a shuttle, most likely Lieutenant Robinson, go up and find out what was going on directly he thought as he got to his jeep. “Danvers, I'm supposed to be at an inspection in …,” he made a show of looking at his watch, “twenty minutes. You know the way?”
“Yes, sir,” his personal driver said with a nod. He'd gotten a copy of the general's schedule and was ready.
“Good man,” the general said as he and Sergeant Xu climbed into the vehicle. “I need to get back to the command center to find out if those …,” he paused as he caught himself. “ … If the techs have gotten the satellites fixed. Do me a favor, while I'm inside, keep an ear on the radio traffic,” he said, pointing a finger over his shoulder to the whip antennas attached to the electronics in the back of the jeep.
“Yes, sir,” the driver said as the jeep rumbled to life and began to move. The general's flags on the nose of the vehicle began to flutter as they picked up speed.
<)>^<)>/
Jon looked up to the night sky in time to see a sprinkling of something in orbit. The farmer was unsure what it meant. Possibly an omen, though he doubted it. He turned to look at the Horathian's final solution to his friends and neighbors with bleak eyes.
If there was any justice left in the universe, it would be a good omen for him and a seriously bad one for them. But he wasn't going to hold his breath. Lady Luck had turned a blind eye on them and their plight long ago.
<)>^<)>/
Once the division was parked in a polar orbit, their sensors reached out to scan the planet thoroughly for any intelligence material they could gather. Radar, thermal, spectrographic, gravity, and lidar were used to map the planet in an orange peel by the duo. All of the placements of enemy forces were noted as were the concentration camps.
Warm Blood's tactical department had acquitted themselves well, but Wanda Lu had missed one satellite. The reptilian tactical officer had taken her medicine with good grace … though she'd insisted her entire department join her in the run. They'd run laps around her, but that hadn't been the point.
“We can't just sit up here and do nothing,” the CIC rating said in another open discussion on the bridge. “I mean … people are …,” he closed his eyes in pain.
“I know what you are feeling,” Warm Blood said. She saw the human look at her and then away. “Thank you for your feelings. It is comforting,” the tactical officer said. “I too feel helpless,” she said as the main screen filled with a close-up view of the line of people being sent to what looked like a gas chamber.
“Why don't they run? Fight? Better to fight and die than to … just die tamely!” the rating said, waving a helpless hand.
“They are cowed. Scared. Sheep,” the captain said. “Some are in shock; others don't believe it is really happening. They will find out too late it is.”
“The thing that bothers me is that no one else is trying to stop it,” another rating said.
The captain looked over to the Veraxin and then to the tactical team. “But we are.”
“Sir?” the Relgarth asked, looking up and flicking her tongue in and out.
“Guns, we're not going to let this go. I want a pattern set up. We are going to fire KEW shots into the military bases we've identified. Hit them hard until their mother's bleed,” he growled.
“Sir, those aren't our orders,” the Veraxin ATO protested.
“Let me worry about that. It's called initiative. I'll deal with the fallout if any come. I doubt it. Make sure you get some recordings; I bet the folks at home will love to see it.”
“Yes, sir. Especially those in ET and Protodon I bet,” the TACO hissed angrily as she issued the commands to their missile tubes to switch to KEW strikes. “Work with me here, Click,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The captain nodded as he observed them. “Good.”
While he waited he got a text message from Maggie. He replied back with a simple, yes. “My ass Mags,” he murmured, typing the words out. “You in?” he asked.
“Hell, yes,” came back from the other captain after less than a second. He nodded.
“Sir, should we contact them? Demand surrender?” First Lieutenant Chubs asked. The Neochimp looked a little chagrined as the rest of the bridge glared his way. “Sorry, protocol. We want all our I's and T's handled in case this bites us in the ass,” he said. He looked over to the TACO. “No offense.”
“None taken I suppose. Even paper pushers have to have their say,” she replied dryly. He snorted. “You do realize we'll be warning them?”
“I'm more worried about them accepting the surrender to be honest,” the XO said, sounding amused. “I mean, what do we do about it?”
“Cross that bridge when we get there,” the captain said. His ears were down; a sign he didn't like the idea either. “Comm,” he turned to the comm rating. “Raise the planet.”
“Sir, it will take a moment since they won't be expecting us,” the comm rating replied, tapping at her controls.
“We've got time. It will give our tactical experts time to see if they can hit the broadside of a barn,” he said, voice returning to normal. “What say you, Guns, going to see how many laps you can make this go around?”
“We're not really going to hit a barn, are we?” the Veraxin ATO asked, looking at his boss with two of his eye stalks while his hands continued to work.
“No, he's just rubbing it in. Not that it was our fault Wanda Lu missed,” the Relgarth said, eying the captain with a bit of disgust in her tone.
The captain snorted. “Excuses, excuses,” he teased. Some of his good humor had been restored by the byplay.
<)>^<)>/
Sergeant Scornlan had been working on the radios when he'd overheard odd radio chatter. His big fingers had slapped the techs away. He had then used them to fine tune the signal. His free hand went to the earpiece as he concentrated, brows knit on the voice.
When he heard the repeated order to talk to their leader to accept their surrender, he frowned and looked at the tech. “Billy boy, you best go wake the lieutenant and captain. Sound the alert,” he said.
“Are you serious?!?” Billy asked, wide-eyed.
The sergeant nodded. He reached over to the panel before Billy could get to it, flipped the cover plate up and then mashed his thumb down on the big red button as he continued to listen to the broadcast.
“Oh boy, this is bad, bloody hellfire bad,” James muttered as klaxons began to sound throughout the caves. He looked at the young man then made a shooing motion. “Go on with you lad! Get to the captain and lieutenant and let them know what's happening. There's a good lad,” the sergeant said as the tech rabbited out of the room.
<)>^<)>/
General Drier comm section called him urgently. The general had been looking for a better site to house the dream mansion he'd wanted to build at the time; it had taken time for a runner to find him. Sergeant Xu noted the young man's fast approach and cleared her throat attracting her boss's attention. He turned, saw the young man and shook his head. “Damn it … he muttered as the young man closed the distance. “What's this about?” the general demanded when the winded runner couldn't answer right away.
“Sir, we're getting a request to talk to our leader. The signal source is from orbit,” the young man panted, pointing to the sky. He pointed to the house. The general looked up at the sky, then over to the mansion. “It's important,” the young man said.
“It'd better be. Who the hell is here now?” the general demanded. He grunted when the young man shrugged helplessly and then marched into the house. The young man followed him past the den the general had turned into an office, past the formal dining room to a sitting room that had been converted into a radio room and command center.
“You got the satellites running again?” the general asked as stopped at the desk and picked up the microphone set.
“No, sir. That's just it. We didn't. Someon
e is broadcasting to us from a ship. They want …,” Private Cho gulped, “they want our surrender, sir,” the kid said, clearly baffled and worried.
“They want our what?” the general demanded, turning in astonishment to the young man. “Who the frack said that?”
The hapless tech indicated the speaker. The general's massive hand flexed around the microphone stand. “This had better not be a stupid prank Cho or I'll hang your ass,” he snarled. The private gulped and paled. He looked at Sergeant Xu who just stared at him with her black soulless eyes. He shivered.
The general cleared his throat, then hit the transmit key. “This is General Ruffus Drier. To whom am I speaking to?” he demanded when a sudden thought struck him. If it was real, he should be doing something other than transmitting to them. He should be … He turned, eyes wide. “Order an alert. Evac the main facilities now!” he barked.
“Sir?” Private Cho asked eyes wide.
“Do it! Patch this in to my jeep!” the general said as he thrust the microphone to the kid. He took off at a run with Sergeant Xu on his heels.
<)>^<)>/
“This better not be a stupid prank, James,” Lieutenant Zevaya snarled as she stormed into the radio room. “I dunna think it is, lass,” the sergeant said as he rose out of his chair. “We mon wanna get suited up. Seems there's a party about to start,” he said.
“Where?” the captain asked as he came into the room behind the lieutenant.
The sergeant pointed up with one finger as he used his free hand to flip the radio from playing through the headset to the speakers. “Hear for your own self, sir,” the sergeant said just as General Drier came on the radio.
<)>^<)>/
“Sir, a General Ruffus Drier is on the line. Audio only.”
“General Drier, this is Captain Boo of the Federation starship Mikhail Kutuzov.”
“Boo who?” the general demanded.
“Very funny,” the cat replied, flicking his ears. “Please tell me you didn't strain a neuron with that ancient retort,” he said. “It's not like you have many to spare,” he growled.