Battle in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 4)

by D Patrick Wagner

  “Doc?”

  “Ya, Dean?”

  “I might have an idea.”

  “What might that be?”

  “I need to ask the Sergeant a question.”

  “Go ahead. He won’t bite.”

  “Didn’t sound like it.”

  “Go on. Ask.”

  “Sergeant Stein?”

  “Yes, Dean?”

  “Do all of your squad have enhancements?”

  “Yes.”

  “And all are un-bricked?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I was thinking. Maybe we could use their imbedded communicators to control the A-G’s.”

  “Not a bad idea, Dean.”

  “Thanks, Doc.”

  “In battle gear, we wear helmets. They already have head’s-up displays.”

  “Not a bad idea, at all. Could I get one? One I could tear apart?”

  “Absolutely, Doctor. Cox!”

  Corporal cox dashed forward and came to attention.

  “Requisition a helmet. Deliver it to Doctor McCauley.”

  “Aye, aye, Sergeant.” He dashed off.

  “In the meantime, we will train with what we’ve got.”

  At the end of the fifteen minute break, all reformed and, under the direction of Doctor McCauley, the now twenty-one strong began learning the capabilities of their new A-G’s.

  Nyu-Nippon Weapons Cache

  Before the morning that the four Nightshades headed out, the night dropped inches of snow. The bows of the trees sagged even more from their new burdens. Here and there, the ground bushes, brush and grasses showed only their tops, mostly buried by the night storm. Sousui, Shoui and the four Nightshades stood at the cavern mouth, looking out.

  “Well, Juro. You like water.” Taketa joked.

  “Water. Not snow, Sousui. I can’t swim in this.”

  “Seven travel days, Sa-Junto Sato. That is what it took Juro and me to travel from the river to here. With the snow, count on ten.”

  “Hai, Sousui.”

  “Supplies?”

  “Ten days, Shoui Nakano. We plan on foraging for the return trip.”

  “And, I will fish.”

  “Of course you will, Juro. May Bishamonten watch over you.”

  “Thank you, Sousui.” All four Nightshades bowed, turned and trudged into the calf-high snow.

  Watching, Sato commented, “Our four best.”

  “Yes, Yuji.”

  The two Nightshade leaders returned to the cavern and their responsibilities.

  Aboard Odin

  Vice-Admiral Weiskoff sat in the command pod, ready to strap in and activate at a moment’s notice. Captain Brewer did the same. The bridge crew worked hard at their tasks, knowing that the battle for Corrinar had begun. Everyone also knew that this battle would be lost.

  “Good showing, so far, Captain.”

  “So far, Admiral.”

  “How are we doing on the loss of platforms?”

  Still working his consol and viewing the data, Captain Brewer replied, “Holding steady. Only two more platforms. We’ve figured out how to get the missiles at distance.”

  “Excellent. Having the platform operators on Odin has certainly made them more efficient.”

  “Looks like the aliens have run out of missiles.”

  “If they stick to their previous tactics, we should be seeing a wave of armed patrols ships. About two hundred. Is everyone ready for the next wave?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Remember, X-cannon barrage waves, followed by missile waves.”

  “As planned, Admiral.” Captain Brewer had learned to not tighten up every time the Admiral micro-managed.

  “Please contact all of the freighter captains. Insure that they are ready. And have your sensor specialist insure that they are all in position.”

  “Aye, aye, Admiral.” The Captain worked hard at not clenching his jaw as he responded.

  “Here they come, Captain, as planned.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Bradley. Everyone, stay alert.”

  Captain Brewer sub-vocalized into his implanted com unit. “Platform operators, it just got harder. Let’s kill some bug ships.”

  “That’s why we are here, Captain.” Lead Operator Ortiz replied for his entire group.

  The alien attack craft poured forth, like wasps from a hive. Alien ships streamed in, with all weapons firing, carving out the heart of the platforms. More platforms died. The platforms fired back with X-cannons. Alien attack craft went dead and continued on their ballistic paths. Missiles launched. Dead alien attack craft exploded, creating mini-novas of metal and gasses.

  As projected, two hundred alien attack craft poured through the Bridgelen gate. Over seven hundred human-made weapons platforms destroyed two hundred alien attack craft. But over two hundred platforms also died.

  “Two hundred and sixty-one platforms down, Admiral. Four hundred, eighty-nine left.”

  “We need to do better, Captain. We need to get their sixty frigates and fifteen destroyers in this battle, if we are to have a chance.”

  “I understand, Admiral.”

  “The attack ships didn’t carve out enough free space. The frigates are going to be bunched up. We should be able to slaughter them with minimal damage.”

  “If they stay true to form.”

  “Have all of the freighters power up their weapons and check their missile loads. We need to use them for this next wave, save as many of the platforms as we can.”

  “Understood, Admiral.”

  Captain Brewer again utilized his implanted com unit, relaying the Vice-Admiral’s instructions.

  “Captain!”

  “Calm, Mr. Bradley. Report.”

  “Sorry, Sir. The alien frigates aren’t coming through the gate, Sir.”

  “What is? The Destroyers?”

  “No, Sir. One of their super dreadnaughts, Sir.”

  “What?”

  “Captain Brewer, fire all X-cannons. Platforms and freighters. Have them target in groups of five.”

  “Aye, aye, Admiral.”

  The Captain of Odin and fleet commander frantically issues his orders to Platform Operations Leader Ortiz and all of the freighter captains. Vice-Admiral Weiskoff watched as everything realigned and began firing.

  “Hold the missiles until we see a breakthrough.”

  “Aye, aye, Admiral.”

  “Target the three nose cannons, the two top-mounts and the bottom mounts on that monster’s bridge. Let’s see if it can stand up to the combined punch of seven X-cannons.”

  “That should work. Lieutenant Robinson, You heard. Do it.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  Everyone who could, watched the forward view screen. In the dead of space, the invisible X-rays and EMP waves couldn’t be seen. But the sensor readings processor mapped in their paths with hot, red lines. Hundreds of lines struck the behemoth. The brightest line came from Odin. No damage seemed to occur.

  The alien super dreadnaught returned fire. Platforms ignited like moths in a flame. First scores then hundreds exploded. Very shortly only a few platforms remained.

  “Captain, get the freighters moving. Get them to Arium. But keep them firing.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  From his gestures and agitated movements, the sense of urgency permeated the bridge as Odin’s Captain issued the orders.

  “They’re away, Admiral.”

  “Good. Damage assessment?”

  “All platforms have been destroyed, Admiral.”

  “I can see that, Captain. To the alien dreadnaught?”

  “I think, again, we killed the bridge, Admiral. From our sensor readings, the front portion is non-operational.”

  “Loose a barrage of missiles.”

  Just as Captain Brewer gave the order alarm horns screeched all over Odin.

  “We’ve been hit!”

  “Don’t panic Lieutenant Hartman. What’s the damage?”

  “The aliens burned a hol
e through our second and first decks.”

  “Engines?”

  “Operational.”

  “Mr. Connors, announce to the ship that we are initiating an emergency burn. Lieutenant Wright, get us out of here.”

  “Yesterday, Captain.”

  “We can’t take another one of those, Admiral.”

  “I know. Withdrawing is the correct response.”

  Vice-Admiral Weiskoff strapped himself into his command pod, closed the lid and activated the compression padding. “Pursuit?”

  “Quarter speed. Two-tenths S.O.L. But accelerating.”

  Captain Brewer insured that everyone had prepared for the coming Gee forces then followed Admiral Weiskoff’s actions.

  “Damn. Our acceleration curve is faster than theirs. But their top end is higher than ours. We’ll make it. We need to make it.” Weiskoff mumbled to himself.

  “Freighters?” he asked over his com link.

  “All have reached the safety zone. They’ll hit Arium before us.”

  “How soon before we are outside of their accurate weapons range?”

  “We’re just about there, Admiral.”

  “Plot a random evasive course, Captain. And throw out some chaff. Some decoys. For any missiles they launch.”

  “Already done, Admiral.”

  Everyone got slammed into their pods or gravity bags as Lieutenant Wright slid the accelerator slides to their stops.

  “Where are the stingers,” Weiskoff wondered through the stress of the burn, speaking as though he could will them into existence.

  Sometimes words can turn into results. Sixteen points of light separated from the corona of Corrinar’s sun. Sixteen white-hot exhaust jets pushed the small, fast ships at six-tenths the speed of light towards the giant alien ship.

  Aboard Gazelle

  Captain Forsythe, buttoned up in her acceleration pod, studied her two crewmates and the screen displaying the other fifteen little, now-fast moving ships.

  “Look alive, everyone,” she spoke over the group-wide channel. “Stay in your four-ship groups. We’ll be breaking the corona and coming around the sun in two minutes. Then we will see what we’ve got.”

  Gazelle and its three escorts burst from the brightness of the Corrinar star’s corona and into the blackness of space. Knowing that, with Amanda Adams at the controls, Gazelle flew true, the Captain worked the monitors and sensors, pulling in and evaluating as much data as she could as quickly as she could.

  “Change of plans, people,” she announced to her crew and all of the other captains.

  “We’ve got an alien dreadnaught. Not a bunch of little ships. That’s our target.”

  “Fragg, that’s big!”

  “Not so big that we can’t hurt it, Carl. Listen up, all. I see eight engine baffles. Break off into groups of two. Each group gets a baffle. EMP those mothers. Then send missiles. All of them. Right up their spouts. Keep moving. Aim on the flyby. One tickle from that monster and it’s space junk. So, fly fast. Don’t forget to juke your asses off.”

  Forsythe worked her board, assigned the targets.

  “Dance time!”

  Sixteen fast-moving human ships darted towards the lumbering alien giant. eight groups of two zeroed in on their targets. The alien dreadnaught took no notice, being focused on the human dreadnaught in its sights. It continued to fire. Odin took a horrific hit, bleeding gasses and wreckage.

  “Get in there, people! Odin’s been hit.”

  “Mandy, Push it. I want some alien bug butt!”

  “Lining up, Captain.”

  “Sergeant, you got it?”

  “Almost there, Captain.”

  Gazelle and her wing ship, Mariella, rocketed towards their target. Everyone held their breath. Time crept to a crawl. Sergeant Brown mumbled into her mic. Gazelle and Mariella fired their X-cannons and launched their four missiles. The other seven pairs matched their actions.

  With the first salvo from the stingers, the alien goliath opened up with its tail guns. The black of space lit up with shafts of burning laser light and smashing particle beams. Mandy flew as though chased by the demons of Hell. In her mind, she was. With the stick to the stops, she juked, jeeked, bobbed and wove, dodging around the shafts of light, dancing around the instant death.

  Mariella, like a suckerfish, turned high in unison and joined Gazelle in its breakneck race to the safety of the Deep Dark. Reaching the safe zone, Mandy eased back on the frantic flight. She joined Captain Forsythe and Sergeant Brown to take their first, painless breaths.

  “Well done, Mz. Adams. I’m glad you came aboard.”

  “It was fun, Captain. Just like a three-D video game. Piece of cake.”

  “Tell that to my gut, Mandy. I haven’t been through anything like that since Boot.”

  “Sorry if I gave you a few bruises, Jesse.”

  “Better bruises than holes, Mandy. Good job.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sergeant. Status?”

  “Our two baffles aren’t spouting any flames or gasses, Captain. I’d say we cleared our target.”

  “Angela, status?”

  “All good here, Commander. Mariella came through. We’re all a little bruised, but good.”

  “Glad to know. Excellent work.”

  Forsythe worked her scanners.

  “Two baffles still burning.”

  She counted ships.

  “Five stingers down.” The sadness in her voice filled Gazelle with mourning for the dead.

  Mandy, get us to Arium.”

  Eleven fast-movers, the eleven remaining stingers of Captain Forsythe’s small fleet, raced away from the slowing alien super dreadnaught and towards relative safety.

  Onboard Heimdallr

  The three crewmates groggily popped their pods. Pushing the lids open, they variously stood, stretched or just sat, making jaw-cracking yawns and groans of inaction.

  “Man I hate dosing the sleep juice.”

  “It was that or going stir-crazy for thirty-five days, Brooksy.”

  “There’s that, Toast. Why don’t they make two-people pods? Then at least we could snuggle while we sleep.”

  “In your dreams, Brooksy. Your wildest dreams.”

  “And good ones, too.”

  “Alright, peeps. One hour more in the grey. Then we get another look at Cencore. Brooksy, get us quiet. Toast, sensors. We know the drill. Then food, drink, stretching. Let’s make it happen!”

  Captain Scott clapped his hands for emphasis. Everyone slowly scrambled to get their jobs done, picking up speed as they worked out the kinks. After meals, drinks and go-pills, all three found themselves in their pods, again buttoned up and anxiously waiting to exit the wormhole.

  Heimdallr drifted through the gate, just another piece of flotsam wandering the universe. Brooks barely fired a nose thruster, changing the vector of the little scout ship. Torres worked her console, passively picking up every bit of light and radiation she could collect.

  “The bugs have been busy, Captain.”

  “Show me, Toast.”

  Torres pushed her screens to the big viewing monitor.

  “The shipyards look powered up. Same with the main space station. A few smaller ones.”

  “Yeah. There’s bug ships at the yards. Getting repaired. Looks like they’re here to stay.”

  “I don’t even want to think about what’s happening on Olympia, Cap.”

  “Me, neither, Brooksy. I’m just glad that my family’s not there.”

  “Mine are.” Torres responded with deep sadness in her voice.

  “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “It’s ok, Captain. It’s war. Plop happens.”

  The three sat in silence for a time, letting Heimdallr ballistically travel her vector. They just watched for that time, silently grieving.

  “Back to it, peeps. Brooksy. Loop us around that fleet. You know the drill. Get us to the Bridgelen gate.”

  “On it, Cap.”

  “Toast. Ke
ep those recorders going. I want everything.”

  “Planned to, Captain.”

  “Even with our one-shot X-cannon, we can’t fight. But we can get the intel to those who can.”

  Chapter 08

  Aboard Odin

  Captain Brewer sat strapped and pressurized in his acceleration pod. Working his board, monitoring the rest of the bridge crew, he focused in on the hard-charging alien super dreadnaught. He knew, at point six S.O.L Odin wasn’t fast enough to reach the Arium gate before that monster, with its point eight S.O.L., would reach firing range and blow them into so much stardust.

  He watched the behemoth as it casually destroyed the platforms, picked up speed and set its sights on Odin.

  “Get ready, people,” Odin’s Captain announced over the intercom. Let’s show these aliens what it means to tangle with Odin.”

  Vice-Admiral Weiskoff, also strapped and pressurized in his pod, watched the same screens which Captain Brewer watched. He knew that the end of Odin was coming. With fatalistic air, he watched the hard-charging monster.

  Then both Vice-Admiral Weiskoff and Captain Brewer saw hope. They saw sixteen specks of light come screaming around Corrinar’s star. They saw eight groups of the fast-moving ships target the alien behemoth’s engines. In what seemed like forever, the two saw six engines die and the alien dreadnaught become a slow-moving monster, following the track it had vectored.

  They also saw five of the fast-movers become mini-stars. Small, bright pops lit up the blackness.

  “Forsythe and her people just saved our asses, Admiral.”

  “Yes she did, Captain. At a cost. We owe her.”

  “Everything we’ve got.”

  “Get us out of the trajectory of that ship, Captain. Bring us into the gate at an angle”

  “Aye, aye, Sir.”

  “Mr. Connors, please link to Gazelle actual.”

  Upon hearing the Vice-Admiral’s command, Odin’s communications specialist pinged Captain Brewer’s console. Odin’s Captain pinged approval.

  “Channel is open, Vice-Admiral.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Connors. Commander Forsythe. I am glad you made it.”

  “Five crews didn’t, Admiral. That’s on you.”

  “But Odin did. That’s on you and the five you lost. I think I speak for everyone on board. Thank you.”