Storm Assault (Star Force Series)

by B. V. Larson

  “First,” I said, “he sent out orders, trying to tell me what I had to do to appease him. When I ignored his wishes, he sent fleets. All along the way he sprinkled in assassins to get rid of me directly, hoping that Star Force would crumble and return to Earth’s control without me at the head.”

  “I would respectfully suggest that he almost succeeded in that regard a few months ago.”

  “Yeah. If I’d taken the assassin’s dose of poison instead of Sandra—well, he would have scored.”

  “No sir, I don’t quite mean that.”

  I looked at him seriously. “Explain.”

  “I think I can do so now—now that you are in a recovered state of mind. You have been out of commission for a long time. The assassin missed you, but she crushed your spirit by killing Sandra. I can only surmise that she had instructions to do exactly that if she could not get to you directly.”

  I stared at him while thinking about it. I slowly nodded, and resolved with greater intensity to get my act together again. I couldn’t let Crow beat me by making me depressed. That simply wasn’t happening. I refused to go down that way, with a whimper and an empty bottle in my hand.

  “I’m going to have to kill him,” I said quietly.

  “Yes sir. You probably are.”

  As we spoke these words, I had to wonder if a similar council of war had been held some months ago back on Earth. I suspected that it had, and that Crow, Kerr and whoever else was advising him had come to exactly the same conclusion. I could almost hear their words echoing in my mind: “We’re going to have to kill Riggs, sir. There’s no other way.”

  And now I’d come to the same conclusion. Crow had to be removed, and the only way he was going out was feet-first.

  But exactly how was I going to pull that off?

  -3-

  The next few days were a blur of furious activity. I got the feeling my officers had been sitting on their hands lately, leaning back and taking it easy while the big dog got drunk every night and slept it off during the days. But those times were over. I was back in the game, kicking butts and high-fiving people in turn, depending on how they were doing.

  The results were immediate and almost startling. Looking out the window of Gatre I could see the changes. The fighters were on patrol, swooping around in sharp formation. The factories churned relentlessly, and assembly teams floated outside in vac suits around the clock putting the final touches on all the equipment we could produce.

  My next major meeting was with Jasmine Sarin, the Captain of Gatre. She met me with a worried expression on her face.

  Jasmine was as pretty as always. Her eyes were almond-shaped and refined like the rest of her face. I’d been attracted to her since the first time I’d met her. She was small and quiet, but tougher than she looked. Best of all, she always knew what she was doing.

  I flopped into an uncomfortable chair. Just about everything on Gatre was uncomfortable. The ship had been built with a minimal number of creature comforts. Except for the wardroom, which served a reasonable selection of alcoholic beverages, and the pool room, there wasn’t anything fun to do on this ship. Even the bunks lacked cushions. Fortunately, my people were as hard as stainless steel and didn’t complain about it much.

  “I hear you’re a changed man, Colonel,” she said warily.

  “It’s true,” I said, “I’m off the sauce and into working again. We’re going to take this ship back into battle. Are you ready for that, Captain Sarin?”

  She stared at me for a second. Miklos and I hadn’t let our plans become public yet, but there were always rumors in any military. In this case, the rumors were dead-on.

  “We’re really going back to Earth?” she asked. She almost whispered the question as if it was some kind of heresy.

  “Yes, we are.”

  “But sir, how will that go over with the troops? They didn’t sign on to attack Earth’s forces. They’re here to fight the machines.”

  I put a finger up and waggled it at her. “We’re not going to attack Earth. That’s entirely the wrong way to say it. I never want to hear you speak those words again in front of anyone. Our goal is to liberate our homeworld from a dictator.”

  She looked unconvinced. “I don’t think semantic tricks are going to get you out of this one.”

  I slammed my fist on the table, making a two-inch deep dent and making her jump.

  “I don’t want to hear that kind of talk, either. Listen, you’ve been privately suggesting we take out Crow for years. Now that it comes down to doing it, you’re balking? Explain yourself, Captain, before I relieve you of your command.”

  Jasmine looked shocked. That’s just what I’d wanted. I had to get her and my other key officers into line on this one. We had to provide a united front to get the rank and file to follow us. I knew part of her hesitancy was due to my recent lapses. I’d lost some degree of credibility with her. This was my ham-handed way of getting it back.

  “That won’t be necessary, Colonel,” she said in a slightly hurt tone. “I didn’t say I was going to actively resist your decision. But I think you need to get all the top commanders into a meeting and talk it over. You have to convince them, Colonel. You can’t just announce something like this and expect everyone to follow your orders without question.”

  I sighed, thinking she was right, and that I didn’t want to have that meeting. But after staring into space for about ten seconds, I turned back to her.

  “Yeah, all right,” I said. “We’ll have a meet-and-greet with the whole staff. Get every one of the carrier captains, plus the ground force commanders, into the wardroom for a meeting.”

  “What about the cruiser captains? And the battle station command people? And the Centaur leadership? Now that I think of it, there’s the intel team back on Shadowguard, too.”

  “All right, all right. Invite them all.”

  “When?”

  “We’ll meet in three days. That will give people in outlying areas of the system time to attend. A week after that, we fly. That’s the plan.”

  Sarin looked at me for a moment. “Is there any particular reason—”

  “Yeah, there is,” I said, interrupting her. “In one week, the eighth carrier will be commissioned. When it’s stocked and ready to fly, we all go.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “Will eight carriers be enough fleet power, sir?”

  “I have no idea. But that’s what we have, so we’re flying to Earth with everything.”

  She paused again. “This plan doesn’t seem to be meticulously worked out, sir.”

  “No, it isn’t. That’s because we have little idea what we’ll be facing. But in the interval since the Macros blew down Earth’s defenses, I don’t think the Imperials have had enough time to rebuild anything like the fleet they had before. They don’t have the production capacity we do in alien factories.”

  “Hmm,” she said.

  I could tell she didn’t like my unverified assumptions.

  “I would like to point out,” she began, “that we have no real intel on what they have in the way of static defenses. We’ve seen their fleet, but not their battle stations, etc.”

  “I have to concede that point. Listen, Jasmine, I’m not a fool. We’ll quickly fly out there to Earth’s doorstep, then we’ll take it slow. We’ll probe and scout. When we know what we’re up against, we might decide to withdraw. I’m not planning a suicidal plunge, here.”

  She sighed in relief. I felt slightly insulted. Sure, there had been times in the past when I’d flown by the seat of my pants and all our lives had hung in the balance. But each of those situations had arisen out of a series of unique circumstances.

  “Jasmine,” I said leaning toward her. “This time will be different. This time, we will be the ones in the driver’s seat. We’ll head out there in an organized fashion and make our play. If things look bad, we’ll run.

  “Run? Really? Do you promise?”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, I promise.”

  S
he smiled at me. “In that case, I’m in.”

  “Excellent!” I said, standing up.

  She waved me back down, and I returned to my seat reluctantly. “There are some things you might want to know about, Kyle,” she said.

  I instantly paid closer attention. She rarely called me Kyle, and when she did, she meant business. I gestured for her to speak.

  “There have been alterations made to the production schedules. I want you to know about them now.”

  “Show me,” I said, frowning fiercely.

  She produced a series of documents by tapping on the desk between us. She expertly flipped them around for me to read. Some had attached images, video and audio recordings. I thumbed through them.

  The short version of the story was that the carriers had been redesigned. They now had twice the number of generators as originally planned. They also had additional engines, a single heavy cannon, and a number of other minor touch-ups.

  I turned my face up to meet hers and forced a smile. “Thanks for showing me this. I’m looking at Miklos’ work, if I’m not mistaken.”

  She nodded. Her eyes were worried, as if she expected me to start shouting at her about insubordination and alteration of orders without authorization. I have to admit, those thoughts crossed my mind. But I couldn’t see taking that kind of a hard line with her or Miklos. For one thing, it wasn’t just Miklos’ work. There was no way in Star Force that anyone could circumvent my direct orders without the involvement of many people.

  I forced my thin smile to broaden. It almost hurt. “This is exactly what we agreed to back before the Thor campaign,” I said. “I’m glad he implemented the more robust designs when we had the time and focus to put into the project. What you have here, is a carrier done right.”

  I flipped the document back around to her with a flick of my fingers and she looked surprised. Almost shocked. I wondered for an instant if she’d planned to sink Miklos with this revelation. I didn’t think Jasmine operated that way, but I supposed she might have changed. She was always hungry for a promotion, and she’d been my exec before Miklos had taken the job. I felt that underneath she still wanted that position back.

  “So, he had authorization to do this?” she asked.

  “Yes. I was out of it, and he handled the details. The original plan was approved by both of us months ago. Recall that when the Crustaceans came to us for help, we had to hurry up with the carrier design. Now that we’ve done it right, I can already see advantages.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, I mentioned scouting and running if there is a problem at the last ring connecting to the Sol system. If the carriers fly more slowly than the rest of the fleet, running is problematic.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “May I ask permission then to update Gatre?”

  “That hasn’t been done yet?”

  “No,” she said quietly.

  “Then by all means, press ahead and get the extra engines you need. Even if it takes a few more days. I insist.”

  Captain Sarin ought to be looking pleased at this point, after all what captain doesn’t want a major systems improvement on their vessel? But she didn’t look happy, which confirmed my earlier suspicions. She had told me about the design changes privately to steer some rage in Miklos’ direction. I didn’t like the idea, mostly because I didn’t like being thought of as easy to manipulate.

  When I got up to leave the meeting I was fuming. I didn’t like the fact Miklos had gone off and indulged himself with the carrier designs. I also didn’t like that Jasmine was jealous of him and trying to undermine him in my eyes.

  But I kept telling myself it was my own damned fault. I’d left my people leaderless, and they’d very naturally begun to assume my job. How could I blame them for that? They had to cover for me the best they could. I told myself I should be happy they hadn’t thrown me out of office entirely. They would have had the right to do so. Any officer who’d performed as I had under my command probably would have been tossed into a titanium brig to dry out at the very least, and quite possibly demoted as well.

  Jasmine followed me to the door. She stopped me with a touch at my elbow as I reached out to touch the smart metal. My fingers were an inch from the wall when I halted them.

  “Kyle?” she asked, looking up at me.

  I turned to her, feeling mixed emotions. If she kissed me, I knew I would respond. I wasn’t sure what would happen after that.

  “I’m glad to have you back in charge,” she said, giving me a quick hug.

  I patted her gently and smiled. “I’m glad to be back, too.”

  It was good to feel her body pressed up against mine, even briefly. We separated a moment later and I left her office. The frown that had been riding my face had miraculously transformed into a smile.

  * * *

  Two days passed swiftly. I worked steadily, pulling double shifts. Every time I stepped onto the bridge by surprise at random hours, everyone lurched into high gear. That was part of my purpose in doing so. I wanted them to see me in full uniform and one hundred percent sober at midnight, dawn and dusk. No one was going to be lounging around any longer. Recess was over.

  At the moment it was dawn on Gatre and the shifts were changing. I was there to watch both groups, the one leaving for their bunks and the one coming in and no doubt groaning inside their heads when they saw me at the command table.

  Of course, it wasn’t really dawn. In space there was no such thing. Outside the ship the sun was simply a bigger, brighter star than the rest and it burned pretty much around the clock with even intensity. But since humans are used to a day-night cycle, we’d decided to run time onboard ship in a twenty-four hour loop. Pretty much all of us preferred it that way.

  As I watched the night shift people file out looking ready for their bunks, I saw a new face among the crowd taking their places. Really, it wasn’t exactly a face. It was a brainbox with a lot of tentacles attached. We liked to call this creature “Marvin”.

  “Colonel Riggs?” he asked upon seeing me.

  “Marvin,” I responded, smiling.

  “I’m surprised to see you here.”

  “I’m surprised to see you, too.”

  He stared at me for a moment, his cameras rotated to get different angles. Marvin had a large number of electronic eyes and they often focused exclusively on things that interested him. You could always tell if you were boring him: you would rate only a single camera.

  Today, I found myself overwhelmed by scrutiny. There were at least ten cameras aimed in my direction from one angle or another, and I wasn’t sure if I should be gratified or insulted.

  “Why are you surprised to see me, Colonel?” Marvin asked.

  “Because the last I’d heard you were assigned to the battle station. Now, you’re on the Gatre. How did this change of assignment occur?”

  “You approved the change, sir.”

  “I most certainly did not.”

  “”Shall I play the audio?”

  I hesitated. One thing that was especially annoying about Marvin was his tendency to record everything around him. Even now, this very conversation was being stored in some form in his brainbox. I flattened my mouth in annoyance. There were staffers all around looking at us with mild interest. If Marvin played a recording of me in an obviously drunken state, it would do a lot of harm to my efforts to recapture my authority in their eyes.

  “No Marvin, that won’t be necessary.”

  “I see. Do you now recall the order you gave me?”

  “Let me ask you, robot: what kind of state was I in when the order was given?”

  “As I recall, you were very happy about something.”

  “Happy?”

  “Yes. Happy, as in laughing without apparent cause. I’d assumed you found something humorous about my data reports, but I could not determine what it was.”

  “Fine, yes. Delete that recording, Marvin, please.”

  His cameras, which had been slowly drifting away from m
e now coalesced again in number. They came at me from every angle.

  “Are you ordering me to destroy documentation, sir?”

  “Marvin, I will stand by the orders I gave. Unless I countermand them, you are free to follow them. But I want that one deleted.”

  “I see. Done.”

  I nodded, wondering what other kinds of nonsense Marvin might have drifting in his box. Perhaps I’d given him permission to make an army of robots, or to fill one of Eden’s sea worlds with transplanted species of plankton. I would have to keep an eye on him from now on. When he got an idea, he could be very evasive and difficult to redirect onto a harmless path.

  “Now that your presence has been confirmed and reauthorized, can I ask you what your mission is here on Gatre?”

  “Why, to monitor the Blues, sir.”

  I frowned, and seemed to recall having given him that order. Yes, I had done so, back before Sandra had died, and the world had gone gray for a while.

  “Right, what do you have for me?”

  “You’re original assumptions seem to have been correct, sir.”

  “Could you be more specific? What are they up to?”

  The Blues had been working on a large scale project on their homeworld for months now. Ever since we drove the Macros out of the system, they’ve been releasing huge energy bolts down deep inside their atmosphere. Initially, I’d believed these releases must be from natural causes. After all, the planet is huge and mostly atmosphere. It is never fully stable, and there are frequent violent storms.

  “They appear to be building something,” I echoed, frowning and working the command table. The Jupiter-like image of Eden-11 appeared. “Something large… How large?”

  “Difficult to say. Standard sensory systems can’t penetrate the thick atmosphere.”

  “Estimate.”

  “I’d say a mass has been displaced—something on the order of fourteen miles of rock.”

  It was my turn to stare at him. “Fourteen…? What do you mean by ‘miles’ of rock?”

  “As in diameter. If the mass were a planetary body, it would about the size of Phobos, the larger of the two moons that orbit Mars in the Solar System.”