The Star Cross

by Raymond L. Weil

  “Very well,” replied Creed.

  The Kubitz government kept Controllers on each world of the Gothan Empire to maintain records of all contracts signed. Any violation of a contract could easily result in a clan’s lifetime banishment from participating in raiding activities. Even an entire planet could suffer penalties. Normally a planet would be given the choice of paying a hefty fine or refraining from raids for a specific time period of a few days to several years. It was one reason why contracts were almost never violated. The Dacronians would honor their contract to ensure that their stellar reputation remained intact.

  “Once you receive the signed contract, I will expect the one hundred million credits to be deposited in my account on Kubitz within twenty-two hours.”

  “It will be done,” replied Creed, standing up. “As a symbol of my appreciation, these gold bars are a gift for your personal account.”

  For the first time, Jarls allowed himself to smile. This might be a very profitable venture, indeed, with High Profiteer Creed making this gesture. “Prepare your ships,” Jarls said, rising and picking up the four gold bars. “With my protection, you’re about to become very rich.”

  Creed didn’t reply, as Clan Leader Jarls left the room, carrying the gold.

  -

  Since the bars to Jarls were a personal gift, there would never be any record of this transaction. It also ensured that the clan leader would do everything in his power to keep Creed’s ships safe. Now Creed needed to return to the Command Center and make the necessary final arrangements to get his ships repaired and to gather the fleet he planned to retake Earth with.

  When he was done, there would be no gold, platinum, jewels, or major works of art left on the human planet. Then, for years to come, humans could be taken and sold in the Kubitz slave markets. There were enough human and humanoid races to make the Earth humans a very desirable commodity, particularly in the sex trade. He suspected that human females would be in high demand on Kubitz and the other worlds of the Gothan Empire.

  -

  For two weeks the evacuation had continued at a steady pace. On the surface of Earth, massive rescue efforts were underway in the devastated cities hit by the nukes. Hospitals were full of hundreds of thousands of people suffering from radiation sickness, with more coming in every day. The early death toll from the Profiteer bombardment had already climbed to over forty-two million worldwide. Doctors and specialists were predicting another two to six million would die in the next year from radiation poisoning and other immediate side effects. In the long term, a drastic increase in cancer deaths were expected over the next few decades.

  -

  “Rescue efforts are continuing in the Chicago and the Washington, DC, areas,” President Mayfield informed the other Cabinet members. “In DC we’re retrieving some of the valuable historical documents stored there. The radiation levels are still high, and our people can only work in some of the hotter areas for a few hours.”

  “I’ve read the reports, describing the near panic of people who live in close proximity to the two stricken cities and how martial law has been declared in the surrounding areas to ensure public safety. What are we doing to limit the spread of the radiation?” asked Secretary of the Treasury Dwight Michaels.

  “We’re using cargo planes filled with a special chemical,” General Braid said. “We’re also spraying another agent to reduce the radiation in areas with high rad counts. We’re enforcing a mandatory evacuation of everyone living within twenty miles of Chicago and Washington, some of the most heavily populated areas in the country.”

  “How many people are we talking about?” asked Michaels.

  “We’re evacuating slightly over three million people,” Braid replied. “We’re moving them through triage centers and testing them for radiation. Those that test high are detained and placed in hospitals for treatment. We’ve mobilized both the National Guard and the Reserve to help with the evacuations.”

  “Hospitals in the immediate vicinity of both cities are already filled to capacity,” added Raul Gutierrez of Homeland Security. “We’re using military transport helicopters to aid in moving the overflow to other facilities. The civilian medical helicopters didn’t have the lifting capacity.”

  “We’re doing everything we can to help the affected areas,” President Mayfield informed them. “Leaders in other areas of the world, where cities were hit, are doing their best to alleviate the suffering and contain the radiation.”

  “What do we do when these Profiteers return?” demanded Stroud with a stormy look. “Are we going to resist? It seems as if we are just going to turn the planet back over to the Profiteers when they show up again. Some of my business associates have already expressed their concerns, in a not-very-polite manner.”

  “We’re setting up special operation units to be used as we see fit to take out targets of opportunity,” General Braid answered. “Also a half dozen secure command and control centers will be responsible for military activities in their areas.”

  “What about the Europeans, Russians, and the Chinese?” asked Max Sallow. “All three possess sizable militaries.”

  “They’re setting up quick-reaction forces also,” answered General Braid. “We don’t dare offer heavy resistance with major forces. The Profiteers would just nuke them from orbit, and we don’t want to encourage that.”

  “So, for the most part, we just cooperate with them,” muttered Stroud, his eyes narrowing. “None of that would be necessary if the fleet would stay and fight, instead of fleeing to Newton. I’m already losing some of my financial backers.”

  “As we’ve discussed before, Admiral Vickers’s fleet would be wiped out, and then we would have no hope of ever being free of these Profiteers,” President Mayfield said, frowning at Stroud. “The course of action we’ve chosen offers the best opportunity for our world to be free in the future.”

  “I still think the fleet should stay,” grumbled Stroud, shaking his head in denial.

  “How’s the evacuation going?” asked Secretary of Education Connie Saxon.

  “As well as can be expected,” replied Mayfield, letting out a deep breath. “The Russian Collective is using eight cargo ships and two passenger liners to shuttle people and supplies to Newton. The Chinese Conglomerate has another twelve cargo ships and three passenger liners doing the same.”

  “Who’s picking these foreign people?” demanded Stroud. “The North American Union established the Newton colony, and I don’t like the idea of the Russians and the Chinese sending people there. How can they be sending people when my recommendations are immediately rejected by Fleet Admiral Tomalson’s people?”

  “No one is allowed to go to Newton without our approval,” Tomalson informed Stroud, as well as the others. “The Russians and Chinese are both submitting lists of proposed evacuees to our shipyard personnel. They’ve been given some strict guidelines as to who we will accept and those that we will not. So far there have been no problems.”

  “Until the Profiteers show up again,” muttered Stroud. “And my people remain on Earth.”

  “How much longer can we expect Admiral Vickers to remain in orbit?” asked Maureen Roberts.

  Everyone on the Cabinet knew, when the fleet left, that either the Profiteers had returned or were about to. Several looked frightened, probably thinking about what that would mean for the North American Union and the rest of the world.

  “It’s difficult to say,” Fleet Admiral Tomalson responded. His eyes looked tired, as if he had been getting very little sleep, with so much planning and work to be done in a very short time frame. “I would guess two more weeks at the outside—three if we’re lucky—but I’m not planning on it.”

  “What about the Moon, Mars, and the other colonies in the Solar System?” asked Dwight Michaels. “Are they being evacuated?”

  “Some are,” answered President Mayfield. “The Profiteers never went anywhere else in the Solar System other than here at Earth.”

  “
Why?” asked Stroud. “Why us and not them?”

  “All the money is here,” responded Michaels. “These Profiteers are after gold, platinum, jewels, and anything else that can be turned into a quick profit. The other colonies are dependent upon Earth to some extent for supplies and support. Only the Moon and Mars are close to being self-sufficient.”

  “Most of the smaller mining operations are to be evacuated to the larger colonies,” Mayfield added. “The Europeans are shipping as many supplies to Mars as possible. The Russians and the Chinese are doing the same thing with the moons of Jupiter and Saturn, in the hope that their colonies will be spared.”

  “We all have bases on the Moon,” Fleet Admiral Tomalson continued. “Most of those are evacuated or being reduced to skeleton crews, until this crisis is over. A few of the larger underground cities are being heavily supplied, and the people who don’t come down to Earth will move into them.”

  “If it’s ever over,” mumbled Stroud, with an angry glint in his eyes. “My office is receiving thousands of calls each hour, demanding to know what our government will do to protect the people. What do I tell them?”

  Mayfield leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, as he contemplated Stroud’s question. It was a legitimate one. Every government office was swamped by incoming calls, demanding to know what the government would do. The North American Union didn’t have a big enough fleet to defend the whole Earth. If the NAU still had their original ships of the fleet, then things might be different. However, they didn’t. They had Admiral Vickers’s task group, and the NAU couldn’t afford to risk it in a battle they couldn’t win. Most of the other major powers had concentrated their explorations to inside the Solar System so had never built warships. The NAU had signed agreements with all of them that the NAU fleets would protect Earth in case of an attack or invasion. The NAU had also accepted crews for several ships from contributing countries that had helped to pay for the protective fleets.

  The same thing with military forces. The air force would be shot down from the sky, even with their modern attack jets. Ground units would just be bombed out of existence from the enemies in orbit. The NAU and other countries would keep some forces hidden and ready for when the opportunity presented itself to strike a telling blow against the enemy, for everyone expected the Profiteers to return in far greater force than before. So, for an unknown amount of time, the humans of Earth would have to live as a conquered people.

  The path of least resistance to the Profiteers would ensure that most of the people on the planet survived. There was also a reasonable chance that the rural areas would see little change in their daily lives, as the Profiteers were bound to concentrate their activities in the metropolitan areas where most of the planet’s riches were located.

  “When the Profiteers return, I’ll make an announcement, explaining what must be done,” Mayfield said, leaning forward and placing his hands on the large wooden conference table. The wood felt cool to the touch. “We’ll tell our people that the enemy has returned and to cooperate with them. There will be no armed resistance, and all our efforts will be aimed at preserving this Union and our people.”

  General Braid explained further. “Our Special Forces units will only be sent into action if the Profiteers are intent on killing,” General Braid said, his face taking on a deadly look. “If we lose citizens, then all holds are off. We’ll engage the Profiteers at every opportunity, regardless of the risk.”

  “How will the Union function under the conditions the Profiteers will bring?” asked Connie Saxon. “Parents may not be willing to send their children to our schools, fearing for their safety.”

  “Those are questions that will have to be answered when the time comes,” Mayfield responded with a deep sigh.

  He knew they were facing tough and trying times ahead. He just prayed they were doing the right thing. They had a plan in place that might mean there was, indeed, a light at the end of the tunnel. However, the tunnel might be unbelievably long.

  Chapter Five

  President Mayfield looked across the conference table at his Cabinet. It had been decided the Cabinet members would be split up and sent to three secure locations to ensure that succession to the presidency remained intact.

  “Has anyone seen the secretary of labor the last few days?” asked Connie Saxon.

  “No,” replied Max Sallow. “I heard a rumor that he took a flight to Hong Kong to meet with some of his business associates.”

  Mayfield turned toward General Braid with a questioning look.

  “He wants off the planet,” the general answered, shaking his head. “I’m sure he’s trying to make a deal to board one of the Chinese vessels going to Newton.”

  Mayfield looked over at Anne Roselin. “Contact the Chinese Conglomerate and remind them that only qualified people are to be allowed on their cargo ships and passenger liners. Secretary of Labor Stroud is not to be allowed to board one of their ships.”

  “I’ll contact MaLin Chung,” Anne replied with a nod of her head. “He has no respect for Secretary of Labor Stroud and will see to it that he doesn’t have access to one of the Chinese ships.”

  “Past problems?” asked Connie Saxon curiously.

  “Yes,” Anne answered with a confirming nod. “They had some dealings that went bad, and MaLin lost a considerable sum of money. There is no love lost between the two.”

  With a sigh and a shake of his head, Mayfield addressed Fleet Admiral Tomalson. “What’s the situation in orbit?”

  “The Kepler and the Dante have left for Newton,” Tomalson replied. “The two light cruisers in the repair bays have been updated and have joined Admiral Vickers’s fleet in orbit. We’re in the process of dismantling part of the shipyard to send as well.”

  “The entire shipyard?” asked Dwight Michaels with a stunned look in his eyes. “We spent billions building the damn thing!”

  “We don’t have the time to dismantle the entire shipyard,” Tomalson explained with a deep sigh. “We have two heavy tugs taking the construction bay and a manufacturing section to Newton.”

  “How soon before the Profiteers return?” asked Connie Saxon.

  “We’re expecting then any day now,” the fleet admiral replied. “We’re actually surprised they haven’t shown up already.”

  “What will the fleet do if some our evacuee ships are still in Earth orbit?”

  Fleet Admiral Tomalson looked over at Connie and then replied. “They have orders to stay in orbit until all the cargo ships and passenger liners have safely entered hyperspace. As soon as the last ship is away, Admiral Vickers will break orbit and head for Newton.”

  The room became quiet, as the Cabinet thought over those cryptic words. They all knew that, once Admiral Vickers was gone, their world would be at the mercy of the Profiteers.

  -

  “Fleet tug Juno is ready to enter hyperspace,” reported Ensign Brenda Pierce from Communications.

  “She’s taking the main manufacturing section of the shipyard,” added Captain Randson, as he peered intently at the main viewscreen, which was focused on the tug and its precious cargo.

  Kurt nodded. The fleet tug Poseidon had left the day before with the large construction bay. Kurt just hoped the Poseidon made it safely to Newton. She was in a convoy consisting of two destroyers, three passenger liners, and seven cargo ships. However, due to the mass of the construction bay, the tug’s hyperspace engine would be tasked to the max.

  “Unidentified contact!” called out Lieutenant Lena Brooks. “Range is four million kilometers. We’re being scanned!”

  “Order the Juno to enter hyperspace now!” ordered Kurt, sensing this might be the return of the Profiteers. “Get me an ID on that contact.”

  “Ship is 1,100 hundred meters in length and 220 meters in diameter,” Brooks promptly reported. She turned toward the admiral with a look of deep concern on her face. “She’s not one of ours.”

  “All ships go to Condition One,” ordered Kurt,
taking a deep breath. “Bring all weapons systems online.” Then, turning toward Ensign Pierce, he said, “Instruct all ships currently in orbit that they have ten minutes to make their jump into hyperspace and head for Newton. Contact any ship on the surface ready to launch and tell them to do so immediately, or they will be left behind.” Looking around, Kurt could see the Command Center come alive with intense activity as the crew prepared for battle. He nodded in satisfaction at their professionalism.

  “Colonel Hayworth says it will take him twenty minutes to get the last of his construction people aboard the Newton Princess,” reported Ensign Pierce.

  “Tell him to hurry,” instructed Kurt, shifting his gaze to one of the viewscreens, which showed the partially disassembled shipyard. He could see a large passenger liner still docked. They needed those construction people off the station, plus the fleet personnel still on board.

  “Shields are at 97 percent, and weapons are ready to fire,” reported Lieutenant Mays.

  Kurt switched the comm channel so he could speak to Captain Watkins on the Vindication. “Henry, bring in the fighters you have out on CSP. We’ll be leaving as soon as the evacuating civilians are safely away.”

  “Leaving like this leaves a sour taste in my mouth,” Henry replied tonelessly. “We don’t know what the Profiteers will do to Earth.”

  “We have a plan,” Kurt answered. He had spoken briefly to President Mayfield and Fleet Admiral Tomalson, offering a suggestion to make things go easier on Earth when the Profiteers returned, at least initially. “We’ll be coming back again someday. I promise.”

  “I know it’s what we have to do,” Watkins answered somberly. “It’s just hard to actually do it.”

  -

  A number of minutes passed as the red threat icon sat on the tactical screen not moving. With satisfaction, Kurt saw his fleet forming up around the Star Cross in a loose globe formation with the battlecruiser and the light carrier in the center.