Kevin rolled out of bed, pulled on his trousers, and slid his feet into his shoes. Standing he grabbed a shirt and was out the door before it was buttoned. It was only about 300 meters from the house to the headquarters, and Kevin trotted the distance, arriving winded. Entering he found no one in the main office and headed down the hall to where he saw a group of people gathered outside the communication room. Pushing his way into the room he found Colonel Lopez in front of a console screen in the corner.
Colonel Lopez turned when he entered and grabbed his arm, pointing to the message on the console screen. It was a short message of only three words, followed by a set of numbers and letters. The message said, 'we are here', and set of numbers.
"Coordinates", Lopez said, "about halfway between Alpha B and here."
Kevin felt light headed, and reached for the nearest chair and sat down. "Finally," he said, "I was beginning to think it would never happen. Not much of a greeting though. But why Alpha B and not Alpha A? That doesn't make sense."
Lopez nodded, "no, they sent only a short burst to avoid detection; they used the Dominica frequency." Pointing to the screen, "the numbers show location, velocity, deceleration rate, direction, and a specific time. Once we know their current location we can reorient the directional antenna and communicate without risk of detection. I suspect that's what they had in mind."
Adding, "as to why Alpha B? They must have set their initial trajectory to Beta 3; deception I suppose. But if that is so I don't know how they managed to change course."
Kevin looked at the screen for several seconds before nodding, ""can you estimate arrival time yet?"
Lopez shook his head, "not yet, but I have a man on it. Roughly, though, he guesses about two months, give or take."
Several years before . . . .
As the Earth fleet underwent construction, activity beneath the surface of Alpha 2's secondary moon quickened. As Zilzz watched the unfolding events on the planet below, and on far-distant Earth, she realized she was seeing what few other Aberi had ever seen, the evolution of a suitable race. A race perhaps suitable for transport to the Aberi home system.
If events continued to unfold as she foresaw, this would be the first transport of a seed population in over 1,000 years. Which race won the upcoming conflict wasn't supposed to matter, but in a corner of Zilzz's mind it did. What attracted her was the aggressive, volatile, imaginative nature of the humans, characteristics which the Aberi rated highly. She would much rather monitor the emotions of the humans than the plodding minds of the Gath.
Why the Aberi were attracted to races with that profile even Zilzz didn't really know, but they were. Nearly all the earlier transported races had similar characteristics; the reasons buried deep within the ancestral memory of all Aberi. While a very inquisitive race, the Aberi were basically passive, their original aggressiveness and all strong emotions bred out of them over the past few million years, so one would think those characteristics would repel them. But such was not the case. Perhaps it was the realization that those were characteristics the Aberi themselves had possessed when their civilization was young, before they had retreated to the passive role of observers.
The Gath failed to win equal approval in Zilzz's mind, which reflected the basic prejudices of the Aberi civilization. Less aggressive, but perhaps more intelligent than the humans, they were dull. Their actions and reactions were predictable; they were not exciting to watch and they lacked vivid emotions to share. Now that their civilization was developing they would perhaps conquer a few other worlds, then sink back into the mud like thousands of other civilizations had done before them.
And yet she had misjudged the humans, as had the other Aberi; perhaps she was wrong about the Gath also. Therefore they could not as yet be discounted.
Before the relief expedition left Earth, and as she witnessed the activity near Earth in preparation of the fleet, Zilzz took the necessary steps. The other Aberi were activated from stasis, until the full number of five Aberi were available. The others concurred in Zilzz's assessment.
A recall message was sent to the nearest Aberi ship, over 50 light years away, to return immediately to Alpha 2; which, with message time included, could not be for nearly 100 years. Next, environmental data and details of the flora and fauna of the human and Gath home worlds, and of Alpha 2 as well, was transmitted to the Aberi homeworld. One or more of the vacant worlds previously 'tractored' from nearby starsystems to the Aberi system would be adapted to match the data received.
If the decision were reached to actually transport a human or Gath population, suitable planets would be waiting.
While the Torgai, by themselves, lacked characteristics which would make them a transportable population based on their own merits, they were a part of the natural fauna of Alpha 2, and their relationship to the humans made them a special case. Further they had the ability to mind-net, a capability even the Aberi lacked. Perhaps the Aberi could learn from the Torgai.
After much consideration by the five Aberi, the decision was reached to incorporate the Torgai into their transport plans as a new factor in the human environment. But should they also incorporate the Kraa? That would require more consideration.
In the emerging war Zilzz could not foresee the final result, but they would be ready in any case.
CHAPTER 3: Moon Base, Alpha 2
(Late June, Alpha Year 52): The control room was glowing with light from the display screens that circled the walls, some showing the moon’s surface, others the dozens of hovering Gath ships. Another screen showed hundreds of the fleet's attack ships approaching at low altitude from the dark side of the moon. Around the circular table sat Admirals Lundblad, Collins, Honecker, Sixkiller, and several other high ranking officers as well as Gertrude Foley, all watching the display intently. The room was a beehive of activity. Behind Admiral Honecker an enlisted man operated a communications console ready to transmit any necessary orders.
Five of the motherships, led by the Stockholm, were in orbit around the moon, while the remaining ten orbited Alpha 2 to interdict any attempt to send reinforcements from the surface. When they first entered moon orbit Gath ships had risen to meet them, but had numbered under 150 and made no attempt to attack. The fleet attack ships assigned to the assault had departed while still on the dark side; their mission, while some engaged the defenders, to break through and destroy all surface installations and Gath ships still on the surface. If they succeeded Gath ships already airborne would be without a base and could be destroyed at leisure. Once control of the air was gained, the shuttles for the ground attack would be launched.
Lundblad glanced over at Tom Sixkiller who sat on his left, "which is your son's ship, Tom? Can you tell?"
Tom shook his head in the negative.
Faud studied the screen carefully, then pointed, "his is the 3rd Gamma squadron. It should be on the left;. about the 5th grouping from the bottom. His would be the lead ship."
Quanah sat in the cockpit as his ship hurtled toward its target, the sun still blocked from lifting the darkness below. The G pressure that had flattened him back into the back of the cockpit had stopped now that he was in level flight, allowing him to move his head in the liquid filled cockpit. To the left and right, and slightly behind, the other two ships in his attack team kept formation at a distance of no more than 50 meters. While he couldn't see them, he knew exactly where the other six attack teams in his squadron were positioned; the long months of training made that a part of him without conscious thought. As soon as the engagement started, however, all that would change, each of the attack teams on its own.
Out of visual contact Quanah knew the sky to both sides and behind was filled with other squadrons as they sped toward the target area. According to his instruments they would be on-target in less that two minutes, and Quanah signaled his squadron to assume battle formation. The other two ships in his team moved into their leading positions and switched on their shields, while Quanah fell back leaving his shie
ld off, placing his weapons on ready. He wanted the first shot at the attack position himself, hiding unshielded behind his team members.
Ahead the line separating the dark side appeared, the moon’s surface bright in the direct sunlight. As they approached what appeared to be flocks of birds circling became visible, growing ever larger.
"Visual contact, Gath ships," Quanah said into the microphone, beginning a rapid climb that forced him again back into his seat.
Back in the control room of the Stockholm the screens came alive with activity as the two fleets clashed. Streaks of light filled the screen as laser fire flashed from dot to dot, and flashes of light became frequent as ships disappeared from the screen. Around the shielded ships a faint glow brightened as they absorbed laser fire, and soon the entire screen became a jumble of moving, twisting objects as the craft jockeyed for position. Below the conflict other attack ships streaked toward the ground installations, which soon erupted in showers of dust and debris thrown skyward. Another screen showed other Gath ships attempting to leave their launching pads, most to be destroyed before they could lift off.
Quanah and his team accelerated directly at the massed Gath fighters, angling toward a group of about a dozen that had broken off and was headed toward his squadron. Adjusting his craft's position he bounced a laser blast off the ship of his teammate, Mitch Sanger, angled directly at the closest Gath ship. All that happened was a glow as the blast was absorbed.
"Shit," he said, "into his headset, flipping the alert button to transmit to the full squadron, "they're shielded; similar to our own."
Quanah noticed the glow surrounding the craft he had hit suddenly disappear, followed by a laser blast that was absorbed by Bert Johnson's leading craft. Quanah bounced another laser blast causing the Gath ship's shield to again light up, and as soon as he noticed the glow abruptly darken followed with a second blast. The blast scored a direct hit, the enemy craft disintegrating.
"All hear," Quanah shouted into the microphone, pushing the microphone switch to general broadcast, "their ships are shielded, with an on-off-on time of under five seconds. Keep them lit with laser blasts, and fire immediately if the glow disappears; that's when their shields are going down. Use missiles to force them to drop shields to defend themselves."
For several minutes the battle raged, with Quanah’s advice on how to slip past the Gath shields rapidly adopted by others in the attack fleet. The result was carnage among the defending Gath. But it didn’t last.
"Watch out," the urgent voice of one of the others in his squadron yelled, "they're launching missiles!" Glancing to the side Quanah saw a missile streaking toward the lead ship in the team on his left, followed by an explosion.
Admiral Collins looked across the table at Admiral Lundblad, "I think it’s time for the motherships orbiting Alpha 2 to launch ships to interdict any Gath ships attempting to flee. I think we’ve got them now."
Lundblad nodded and glanced at Collins before responding, "do it."
Later . . . .
Lt. Sage Sixkiller was pressed against the back of the seat in the crammed shuttle craft as it was propelled down the launching ramp of the Stockholm. The faceplate of the pressure suit was closed, and she had completed the suit test sequence. Now she felt the fear in the pit of her stomach as she pressed the laser rifle across her chest. The 26 troops in her platoon were similarly suited and, she guessed, probably just as apprehensive about the coming engagement.
They had been locked into the shuttle for over an hour waiting for the battle below to end. Losses had been heavy for both fleets, but now the remaining Gath ships had fled the scene, in flight toward Alpha 2 since landing facilities had been destroyed, only a few making it to safety.
Sage could feel sweat running down her back, and for an instant felt a sense of panic. She felt a nearly uncontrollable urge to throw-up, a messy proposition while in the pressurized suit. This would be the first combat experience for nearly all of them except for Sergeant Tanaka, the platoon sergeant who sat next to her. Sergeant Tanaka, a short, powerfully built man of middle age, had spent his life in the military, and had experienced combat on many occasions.
Sergeant Tanaka leaned over and squeezed her arm, smiling through the faceplate, and murmured, "it happens to all of us, don't worry about it."
Hours later . . . .
Lt. Sixkiller lay flat behind the storage containers in the darkened chamber below the Gath hanger as laser fire crisscrossed over her head. Next to her lay the body of a trooper from her platoon, bloated by decompression when his suit was pierced by debris dislodged by a laser blast. Of the 26 troopers in her platoon nearly half were dead, most of the others suffering some kind of wound. The side of Sage's suit was darkened from a glancing laser blast, her arm numb, as she listened intently for word of the arrival of a heavy weapons platoon. Here, deep underground, they were pinned down by Gath fire and could neither advance nor retreat.
Sage's platoon had been one of the first ordered into the hangers, and while at first they had encountered little resistance, that soon changed. The Gath held strong defensive positions and it rapidly changed to a ‘killing ground' with her platoon in the middle.
Above the din she heard the sound of Captain Fuller’s voice in her earphone, "fall back, Sixkiller, as soon as you hear the laser cannon. We’ll try to give you cover, but keep your heads down. They're in position now." Sage passed the message on to the remaining members of her platoon, adding, "everyone comes out. Leave no wounded. Bring the dead only if you can without risking yourselves."
Within seconds the hanger was rocked by a blast as the laser cannon hit the Gath positions, Sage yelling into the microphone, "let's go," as she stumbled to her feet.
The following day, aboard the Stockholm . . . .
The table in the meeting room was somber as the debriefing reports were received. Chairs in the room were filled with some of those who had been in the actual combat, including Brigadier General 'Vlad' Solokov and Quanah Sixkiller, some just returned from their missions still grimy from combat.
General Green, glancing around the room, couldn’t help but think about the difference between the returned combatants from this battle and those from typical Earthside wars. In Earthside battles wounded usually outnumbered the dead by a wide margin. Here, if wounded badly enough to draw blood, decompression of the suits invariably led to instant death. The returnees here were largely unwounded, although some nursed burns, bruises, or broken bones.
The attack of the day before had accomplished some of its objectives, but not all. The Gath fleet was either destroyed or had fled, and ground troops held the elevator chambers and controlled the surface, but all attempts to gain access to the underground installations had been repulsed with heavy losses. Losses had been much heavier than expected, and for now the attempt had been abandoned.
The first part of the session was spent assessing the air battle. The cost had been high, with over 70 attack craft lost and others damaged. Nearly all the Gath ships, estimated at over 200, had been either destroyed in the air, on the ground, or while attempting to flee to the planet. Both Earth and Gath ships, or whatever parts they could locate, would be recovered, with the Earth ships, if unrepairable, used for spare parts and materials. The Gath ships, after analysis by the technical people, salvaged for the raw material.
Major General Tyrell Green, commander of the marine division, sat with his chin on his hands, listening carefully as Brigadier General Vlad Solokov, who commanded the ground assault. Finally, when General Solokov had finished, he said. "we can't step into a surprise like that again; over 300 dead, several dozen more wounded seriously enough to require hospitalization."
"Well," General Solokov responded, "their weapons and armor are better than we expected, at least as good as ours, and they fight well. No one thought this was going to be easy."
General Green nodded, "true, but we have to rethink some of our tactics. We don't have the manpower for frontal assaults on defended positio
ns like we tried today. We've got to be 'smarter'."
General Solokov responded, "I agree. We can't afford to fight our way in. We need an alternate plan."
Admiral Lundblad commented after a pause, "but how do we take the underground installations? We have no idea how long they can sustain themselves underground."
Nobody responded, until finally Admiral Honecker said, “perhaps what we need is to recognize who has the staying power, and right now I think that’s us; at least until Gath reinforcements arrive. Are we in a hurry to wipe out the underground installations? I think not; at least we have days or weeks to accomplish that. As long as they're underground, and we control the surface, they pose little threat. We can easily seal all the entrances, and a small air and land force can keep them sealed. If they don't bother us, why bother them?"
Admiral Lundblad looked thoughtfully at Honecker, "not a bad idea. Why get in a fight if you don't have to; what do you think?" he said, looking at General Green and Admiral Collins.
"Well," General Green commented, "it does have a certain elegance. I don't look forward to trying to root them out. We can certainly block them in with very little effort, and a few attack ships to back us up would provide insurance."
Green looked over at Admiral Collins, "we could even do without the motherships if we prepared a ground base for attack ships and the necessary troops, but I don’t know if it’s worth the effort. I suspect one mothership more or less isn’t that important for the planet assault. While the problem of how to root the Gath out will eventually have to be solved, there’s no real reason that it can't wait; the bigger problem will be the planet in any case."
Lundblad looked at the table for a few moments, then looked around the table, "locking them down might be the immediate solution, but we don’t want to tie up our forces indefinitely keeping the Gath below. We'll have to deal with them eventually. But just leave them there for now."
The Final Act: Book III: The Settlement Chronicals Page 4