Battle in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 4)

by D Patrick Wagner

  “Thank you, Igaklay.”

  “Now chairs.”

  After the human and Elonian women requested their unique, race-dependent chairs, they got to studying. The entire day passed with intense research broken by snacks and intellectual conversation. At day’s end the two mutually agreed to quit, made groaning sounds as they stretched and bent out their kinks. As they approached the lift, Keiko put her hand in her pocket, fingering the unknown crystal.

  “I wonder what’s on the crystal.”

  “I do not have a clue, Keiko. Igaklay is unable to open it. So it must be very important.”

  “I’ll get it over to the boys. And Sue. They’ll figure it out.”

  “Speaking of which, where do we eat?”

  “Griffin? Everyone’s either there or outside.”

  “Griffin it is. Let me get cleaned up. After sitting all day, my fur needs a soak and comb.”

  “An hour then?”

  “Make it two. Meet you on the first floor.”

  Anyl froze, unfroze.

  “I’ve contacted Sir Mahajani and Master Varrini. Everyone will know that we are eating on Griffin tonight.

  The lift reached Anyl’s floor. As soon as she stepped into her quarters, the two maids rushed up from their own chambers and bustled to make their Princess comfortable.

  Keiko smiled as she ordered the lift to take her down to her own floor.

  Roth Winter Cabin

  “Move it, City!”

  Harriet grimaced. Again. For the thousandth time. For two days that was all she heard. Angry, sore, tired beyond anything she had experienced before, Harriet clutched her rifle more tightly, pulled it in closer to her newly-taught at-arms position and pushed harder. But she had to admit. The ten kilometre runs were becoming easier. The drops and rolls becoming more instinctive. The dropping to shooting position and hitting a target became more successful.

  “Gods, I hate Stein,” she half thought, half mumbled.

  “Move it, City! I am not going to let daddy’s little girl turn toes up when the aliens arrive.”

  Thankfully, Harriet pushed across the finish line. Last. But she still finished.

  “Tired, City? Not even close! Squad! Take five!”

  Harriet wanted to collapse to the ground, just lie there, getting oxygen back into the body. But, she saw the others. They stood, rifles hanging from the leashes, used as arm rests, as the other eighteen paced around, recovering, preparing. Randy approached.

  “Looking good, City.”

  “You to?”

  “Sorry. You’re stuck with it. The whole squad.”

  “Gods, I hate Stein.”

  “Everyone does. That’s what Drill Sergeants are for. But, when the flop hits the fan, you’ll be glad he has your back.”

  “Speaking of which, you get to scrub it when we get back to Trotzig.”

  “Along with other spots, I hope.”

  “Alright, kiddies. Time’s up. Pull your A-G’s!”

  “So damn loud,” Harriet groaned as she trotted over to the supply van holding the anti-gravity gear. Receiving her acquisition, she checked the gauge.

  “Just like yesterday. And the day before. Full again.”

  “Yes, Mz. Gregor. Alien tech. wondrous stuff. I wish I knew what it was.”

  All nineteen marines and Harriet knew their places. Once each had received his or her A-G gear, they stood at parade rest, waiting for the next command. Harriet now knew the proper stance and held it, the same as the others.

  “Equip harness!”

  Master Sergeant Stein performed his own inspection of his harness and strapped it to his back. Before he completed, twenty others had done the same.

  Hank and Dean critically watched. The two watched Harriet shoulder her rifle and snapped it in place. Then she pulled on her helmet and buckled it down. As she held her position, Hank assumed that she was going through her equipment check, using her eyes to control the head’s up displays. Reaching into the harness’s pouch, she withdrew the alien joy stick. Not having any enhancements, she was the lone person who required the manual control

  Watching the others, Hank and Dean saw every marine don their helmets and, with rifles at the ready, lift slightly off of the ground, perform a three hundred and sixty rotation and settle back down. Harried did the same. Sergeant Stein gave Hank a look. Hank nodded affirmatively.

  “Listen up, kiddies. For two days you got to play with your new toys. Today we learn how to use them to squash bugs!”

  “Hoorah!” Nineteen voices shouted. Harriet, in her helmet, sighed a quiet sigh.

  Under the command of Master Sergeant Stein and following the direction of Doctor McCauley, the now twenty-strong began learning to turn the capabilities of their new A-G’s into tools of war.

  Sato Scout Team

  The first two days found the four nightshades making relatively good time through the snow-covered forest. No new snow had fallen and the current layer had grown crunchy underfoot as they quick-walked in their obscuration boots. Day three’s sunrise brought the drones.

  “Chameleon!” Sa-Junto hissed into his throat mic.

  All four Nightshades shimmered into invisibility.

  “Tree trunks.”

  All four found massive trunks, backed up to them and waited, with invisible fingers on invisible triggers of their invisible weapons. They all dropped into physical and spiritual nothingness. Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. Very slowly. Very steadily. Totally silent. Every unused muscle relaxed, ready to spring if needed. No heads turned. No eyes shifted.

  Twenty-eight alien drones dropped through the canopy and began scouring the forest floor. One almost grazed Hayashi. But his training and discipline held. Seven minutes passed. The drones moved to another section. Ten more minutes passed. The four Nightshades held their positions, silently breathing, intellectually quiet, spiritually floating in nothingness.

  After another ten minutes, Sato quietly announced through his throat mic, “continue.”

  They moved out, this time slower, with more care. They travelled only half the distance over the next three days as they did in the first two. They heard more drones, none coming as close as the first swarm. But they still spend an inordinate amount of time pressed up against tree trunks.

  Day six brought another storm, this one longer and heavier. The ground snow reached their knees. It brought real winter cold. It also brought the end to the drones. The four Nightshades slogged on, each taking a turn shuffling a path through the snow, allowing the followers to scout and guard.

  Instead of the seven days which Taketa and Juro had taken, these four took twelve. Reaching the cliffs, having lived on half rations for the last three days, four exhausted Nightshades set up camp at the tree line.

  With a growling stomach, Juro crabbed over to the canyon edge and looked down. He saw the beach where he and Taketa had camped and hidden from the aliens. He saw the cams and their rope loops wedged into crevasses where he and his Sousui had scaled to escape them.

  Whispering into his throat mic, “Sa-Junto, permission to get us some dinner.”

  Being familiar with Juro, the other three knew exactly what he meant.”

  “Hai, Juro. Permission granted.” Juro heard the hungry anticipation in Sato’s voice.

  Tying off to the first cam wedged close to the cliff summit, Juro tossed his rope over the side, jerked on it to insure it still held anchor and clipped the line to his friction clamp. With his chameleon suit still active, the invisible Nightshade backed over the ledge and down the cliff face, reaching the beach in a matter of minutes. It took only a few more to pull his diving gear from his pack, grab his spear gun and wade into the now-icy waters.

  Thirty minutes later, with multiple fish dangling from a stringer, Juro climbed back up the canyon face and, with an air of triumph, delivered that night’s meal.

  “Tonight we feast!”

  “Mishio found some greens and mushrooms not freeze-killed by the snow. And
Hisoka brought down four rabbits. So we will be eating well the next number of days.”

  The last twelve days brought the four Nightshades closer together, made them first-name friends.

  “Good, Yuji.”

  “Tomorrow we move up river. Get to the coordinates that Taishou supplied.”

  “Hai.”

  “But, tonight we enjoy and sleep.”

  Chapter 09

  Aboard Odin

  Two hundred and seventy-seven freighters spilled through Arium’s gate leading to Corrinar. Two hundred and seventy-seven captains worriedly studied their rear viewing screens, hoping that the alien super dreadnaught didn’t appear.

  To their relief, they saw Odin emerge, beat up but steaming ahead full. They saw the remaining eleven fast-movers streak towards the asteroids and into safety among the rocks.

  Vice-Admiral Weiskoff, along with his Executive Officer, Lieutenant Clarke and Odin’s Captain Brewer sat in the ready room, staring at the view screen. They saw fleeing human ships, the last of the civilian ships, racing away from the alien invaders.

  “We hurt them, Admiral.”

  “Yes we did, Captain. But not enough. We needed to get into their frigates and destroyers. Not just the attack ships.”

  “They changed tactics.”

  “And that hurt us. We are not going to rely just on the asteroid field to further grind down the alien fleet.”

  “What are you thinking, Admiral?”

  “Everything. We use everything we have to kill as many of those alien ships as we can.”

  “If we use the freighters, we will take terrible losses.”

  “Can’t be helped, Jerome. If we don’t carve up that fleet everything will be lost.”

  “Not good, Admiral.”

  “No. It’s not. But it’s what we’ve got. There’s nothing after Arium.”

  Both Captain Brewer and Lieutenant Clarke sorrowfully nodded in agreement. Vice-Admiral Weiskoff pressed his communications button.

  “Mr. Connors, would you be so kind as to link all freighters and fast movers to this com?”

  “Certainly, Admiral.”

  After a short pause, Weiskoff heard that he had a full, fleet-wide connection.

  “Captains. We stop them here. We’ve crippled their super dreadnaught. They’re down to their frigates, destroyers and cruisers. We can keep them penned at the gate. Hammer them into scrap. For this, I need you all at the gate. Those are your orders. Reverse course. You will receive your assignments during your flight back. Again, thank you for your efforts. Don’t let them go in vain.”

  Weiskoff pressed the disconnect.

  “Jerome, order the controllers to start repositioning the asteroids. I want a solid wall moving towards the gate.”

  “Our timing needs to be exact, Admiral. We need those asteroids to arrive just as the aliens come through.”

  “You’re right, Captain. Send a launch. Have it constantly jump back and forth through the gate. Have it get a reading on the alien fleet. Then jump back and report.”

  “I’ll issue the order as soon as our meeting is over.”

  “Excellent. Anything else?”

  No one spoke up. The three remaining leaders of the Federacy Space Force sat for a moment, lost in what was to come, then rose and returned to their duties.

  Sanctuary

  Again, Gloria waited for her husband as Halcyon docked to the camouflaged asteroid. Again she saw him passing through the lock and entering Sanctuary. Both rushing forward, they hugged and kissed.

  “Welcome home, Dear.”

  “It’s good to be back, Love.”

  Taking Lawrence’s arm and pulling herself close, Gloria looked back and saw Jeff.

  “Welcome back, Jeff. Anyone else?”

  “No, Ma’am. Just the boss and me.”

  Gloria looked at Lawrence.

  “Harriet is where she belongs, Babe.”

  “Tolimar. With Randy.”

  “Yup.”

  “So they’re pretty hot and heavy?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  All three began strolling towards the cart.

  “Will they be safe?’

  ‘Safer than us. We have no defenses. If Sanctuary or the shipyard is discovered, we’re gone. Harriet and Randy are dug in like tics on a dog. The new town is dug into a mountain and a huge cave system has been discovered. Nothing’s digging them out.”

  “I hope so. Oh. Jean’s back. She needs to talk to you.”

  “Ok. But, us first.”

  “You have no choice on that, Dear. Jeff, Karen’s waiting. If we keep you any longer, she’ll kill me.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Anything else, Boss?”

  “Nope. I’ll call you if I need you.”

  “Later, then.”

  By this time, the three had reached the cart. Rather than climbing in, Jeff, Gregor’s second-in-command, quick-walked into the bowels of one of the last bastions of humanity still unscathed by the alien invasion.

  Gregor mumbled into his throat mic, paused and mumbled again.

  “Jean will meet us for breakfast. Actually brunch. Ten a.m.”

  “Good. We get to sleep in.”

  * * * * *

  Ten a.m. The Daybreak Diner. Lawrence, Gloria and Jean put the final touches on their finishing of breakfast and ending of small talk. After the waiter topped off their coffees, Gregor turned to his lead pilot.

  “How are we doing?”

  “The aliens are coming, Mr. Gregor.”

  “They got through Corrinar?”

  “Yes. We hurt them. But they got through.”

  “How bad?”

  “We wiped out their two hundred attack ships. Crippled a dreadnaught. But that was it.”

  “Us?”

  “I lost five ships.”

  “Oh no.” Gloria saw the deep sorrow and reached out, taking Jean’s hand.

  “What can we do?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I think we need a wake. A remembrance. Let me have everyone’s names. And their ships.”

  “Yes, ma’am. That would be very kind.”

  “There’s no planet in Corrinar for them to rape. So, my guess is that they are coming straight here.”

  “That would be my guess, too.”

  “Where are the freighters? Odin?”

  “Right behind us. A day out.”

  “Aliens?”

  “I would say, three days. At the most.”

  “Then Weiskoff will have two days to reposition the asteroids. Get them moving.”

  “That’s my guess. He’s ordered us to return. Fight them at the gate.”

  “That’s not going to happen. You’ve got eleven fast movers left?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Get over to the shipyard. Get them re-armed. Re-supplied.”

  “I’ve already ordered the others to do just that.”

  “Good. Let me think. You’ve got the Adams girl on board Gazelle. Right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Com her mom. Get Fairstar over to the supply asteroid. Get her loaded to the max. Mostly supplies. Some weaponry. She will become your supply ship. I want you and your squad in the asteroids. Hidden.”

  “Not Tolimar?”

  “No. Too much open space. No places to hide. I want you in the rocks.”

  “What about the Vice-Admiral’s orders? Fighting back?”

  “You all are civilians. Throwing your lives and ships away serves no purpose. We’ll need you alive and kicking after we boot these bugs out of our system.”

  “But.”

  “No ‘buts’. We have to play the long game. Get your squad hidden. We are going to do the same.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  “Damn right. Not that asshat, Weiskoff. Going and getting my people killed. That’s not going to happen again. You ignore that son of a bitch.”

  Lawrence’s voice rose at this command. Some in the breakfast diners looked at the noise. Gl
oria reached out and touched his arm.

  “Sorry. Stress.”

  “Where will you be, Sir?”

  “Right here. This is my place. Sanctuary holds our people. We weather the war here.”

  “Good to know.”

  “Now, you have two days. Get Fairstar loaded and head for the rocks. Get dug in.”

  “Copy that, sir.”

  “And, no communication. I’ll float a buoy if we need to communicate.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Lawrence and Gloria watched Jean leave.

  “Think we’ll get through this?”

  “Yeah, Babe. I do. We Humans have overcome everything that’s ever been thrown at us. We’ll get through this.”

  “I hope so.”

  Onboard Griffin

  The entire contingent of Griffin sat or stood in their now-familiar spots in the galley/wardroom. One extra being joined the group. Igaklay’s avatar sat on a raised chair, between Keiko and Mack. All had ordered their foods and drinks of choice, downed their supplements and were now working through their meals.

  “If we had eaten in the pyramid, you would not have required supplements.”

  “Yeah, Iggy. And, when you had put your super-duper food replicator here, we wouldn’t need them, either.”

  “I will get it done! I promise!”

  “You eat, Igaklay?”

  “Yes, Princess Analyn. This avatar requires sustenance to continue functioning.”

  “So, you’re not mechanical, a synthetic like Vidhee and Buster? You don’t run on a power source?”

  “No. Although the material and components are synthetic, this avatar functions exactly like Kokali, as though it were a living, breathing Ballisonian. Only, per your command, it is as strong and fast as Sir Mahajani.”

  “Incredible. It eats, sleeps, does all of the bodily functions that a live Ballisonian would?”

  “Exactly! Except for my consciousness being on the moon and linked to the avatar by a Quant-com, this avatar is a Ballisonian.”

  Then, Ballisonians have done this before?”

  “Yes. There were thousands of synthetics helping to make life better for Ballisonians.”

  “Is that what you called them? Synthetics?”