by T. R. Harris
Others had argued that it had been the Klin who had tricked the Juireans into attacking the Earth, and therefore it was the Klin who Humanity should seek vengeance against. And now, from all accounts, they occupied Juir. To many, it didn’t seem right that the Klin should win, not after all the death and destruction their machinations had caused.
All these discussions had taken place rapidly and nearly continuously for the past week. The dynamics within the galaxy were rapidly changing, and however it all turned out, as far as RM1 Caleb Cobb was concerned, he was ready to go home.
Caleb was alone in the radio shack on the mid-watch – his watch-mate, RM2 Brian Dockins, had just left to grab a snack in the mess hall – when his comm screens began to light up. It was flash traffic from the forward units of the fleet, reporting a new message that had been picked up coming over a multitude of the lower wormhole frequencies. If it hadn’t been for Command’s thirst for more definitive intel on the Klin attack of Juir, most of these frequencies would have gone unscanned. As it was Caleb had now received no less than thirteen copies of the same short message.
And then his own scanner picked up the signal.
Caleb listened to the few short sentences and knew immediately to whom the message was addressed. He encrypted the recording on his computer and then left the radio shack just as Brian walked through the hatchway.
“Take over,” Caleb said as he passed Brian. “I have to report this.”
“Report what?” Brain mumbled after him, his mouth half-full of a roast beef sub. But Caleb was already gone.
The radio shack was located in the Combat Information Center of the ship and only a short distance from Admiral Allen’s underway cabin. Caleb approached the Admiral’s door, and even at this late hour, did not hesitate to knock. The Admiral would want to hear this.
Chapter 26
The past week had been some the busiest time Nate Allen had spent as commander of the Human fleet. The now-confirmed attack on Juir by the Klin had thrown a wrench into all their plans. It’s not that he wasn’t glad to see the Juirean capital destroyed – it meant that many Human lives would now be saved. But now he had to play politics, trying to convince the people back home – as well as several of his top officers – that they should continue with their mission, but this time against their true enemy – the Klin.
An accommodation had finally been reached: They had already come too far at this point to simply turn and walk away. The fleet would continue to Juir, but if the Klin did not readily engage, then the fleet would return to Earth after establishing a tentative government to oversee the administration of the Expansion.
At this time, it was widely accepted that the Human forces were isolated and a very long way from home. This was not a wise move to make militarily. More ships were coming, and others were in production, but every time the bean counters back on Earth ran their figures, they always came up with the same thing: More. More ships, more men, more material, more bases – more commitment.
As it turned out, trying to conquer a galaxy was a pretty big deal.
The one thing Admiral Allen had going for him – and an argument that eventually won over the top brass – was something he called the Medieval Strategy. During the discussions with Earth, Allen compared the current campaign to those experienced by armies in medieval times. Back then, vast land tracts were controlled by a lord and a castle, and on the surrounding lands there could be dozens of settlements all loyal to the castle and whatever noble-person ruled from within its barricades. Advancing armies did not have to stop and subdue each individual settlement. Instead, all they had to do was take over the castle, and then all the surrounding citizenry would naturally pledge allegiance to the new king of the castle. It was as simple as the old Who song: out with the old boss, in with the new boss.
That was the way it was in the Expansion. So far, Allen’s forces had not had to deviate to a single rebellious Expansion world. All they had to do was defeat the Juirean forces and take over Juir – and then the entire Expansion would be under Human control. This agreement had sealed the deal for Allen and his Human fleet. Even now, the politicians on Earth were receiving dozens of overtures from Expansion worlds from the Fringe to the Core, all seeking direction now that the Juireans had left.
For the power brokers back on the once-lowly and backward planet of Earth, this was a golden opportunity to gain some real power. Masters of the Universe – for real! That became the new clarion call. Yet even though Nate Allen believed in peace through strength, and that it was better to control territory than to not, he was hoping they weren’t biting off more than they could chew….
It was oh-one-thirty hours ship’s time when the Admiral left his last meeting and shuffled off to his cabin. He had just kicked off his shoes and fell back on his bunk when a knock came at his door. What now? he wondered. He didn’t bother to get up from the bed.
“Enter.” He was only half-surprised to see petty officer Cobb enter his cabin. Probably just another ‘urgent’ message from Earth; they never seem to grasp the meaning of ‘ship’s time.’
“Sorry to bother you Admiral, but I believe you’re going to want to see this.”
Without asking, Caleb went to the computer terminal on the admiral’s desk and logged into his radioman’s secure screen. Allen moved to the desk and sat down in the chair, as Caleb finished pulling up the audio file. He clicked play and then stood back.
“Team Leader to Commander SEAL Team Six. Team Leader to Commander SEAL Team Six. This is A.C., please respond on this frequency. Urgent, I repeat urgent message to follow. Please respond ST6 Commander.”
Allen’s heart began to pound in his throat. He was commander SEAL Team Six, or at least he had been when Adam Cain had been there, and the AC in the message had to be Cain. Allen looked up at the petty officer standing next to him. Cobb smiled. “I thought you’d want to hear this right away, sir.”
Everybody in the fleet knew Nate Allen’s story: former head of the Navy’s most elite Special Forces SEAL team, then head of the United States Special Operations Command (SOCOM) at MacDill Air Force Base, and now the Supreme Military Commander, Human Expeditionary Force, Galactic Operations, his current command.
And everyone onboard also knew the name of Adam Cain.
“Can you isolate the frequency?” Admiral Allen asked.
“It’s being broadcast on multiple frequencies, but I can pull out the strongest one for your response.”
“How about direction? Have you determined that yet?”
“It’s definitely coming in front of us, sir, in the direction of Juir.”
“What’s he doing way out here?” Allen asked rhetorically. The last anyone had heard of Adam Cain had been four, maybe five months ago. His small insurgent command in the Fringe had reported that Cain had been operating behind enemy lines at the time, as had Allen’s former adjutant, Lieutenant Andy Tobias. The Chief had been there too, along with Johnny Tindal. Nothing had been heard from any of them for all this time. And now this.
“Cobb, I have no doubt this message came from Cain. Have Commander Arseneault muster all the techs you have in CIC in ten minutes. We’ll craft a response and then wait for a reply. We have no idea of the distance at this time, do we?”
“No sir, not until the first response has time to come back. He may be fifteen minutes away or ten hours, we just don’t know.”
“And we won’t until we respond. Get moving, Cobb – and good work, young man!”
“Thank you, sir.”
Word of the message had traveled quickly throughout the CIC. Admiral David Giddens had also joined Allen in the CIC, along with Captain Brandon Holmes, the commander of the Bunker Hill.
Caleb Cobb was not intimidated by all the brass leaning over his shoulder at the comm station; it was common for his rating. However, he wished only one person would talk at a time.
Finally Admiral Allen took charge. He sat down next to Caleb and nodded. Caleb flicked the recording switch.<
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“Commander SEAL Team Six to AC. Commander SEAL Team Six, to AC, message received. Allen here. We have locked onto your strongest signal and are awaiting contact for urgent message. Once locked, line should be secure. Will monitor this frequency continuously. Proceed at your earliest. Allen out.”
The message was short and a little anticlimactic for those in the CIC. But it was done; all they could do now was wait.
Since the message had come from the direction of Juir, that would logically mean Cain was located somewhere between the planet and the Fleet. Caleb knew a signal could get to Juir and back in two hours forty-five minutes, since they knew the distance to the planet. So if Cain was on this side of Juir that would be the maximum amount of time they would have to wait for a reply – if Cain is able to pick up their outgoing message without any interference. Once Cain’s reply came back, they could then gauge the time needed between message and response down to within a few minutes. Then, depending on how fast both parties were closing on one another, that time would shorten with each passing day. It would be an awkward way of carrying on a conversation, but it was what they had been dealing with for almost a year, ever since leaving the Earth.
Allen had two cots moved into the CIC and placed near the comm station; one for him and one for Caleb, who insisted on remaining at his station until communications had been fully established with Cain. Coffee was brought in, and even though he was excited about the prospect of making contact with his old team mate – as well as learning about this urgent message Cain had for him – Admiral Nate Allen was soon fast asleep on the cot.
Chapter 27
Kaylor and Jym were the only ones on the bridge, stealing some time for themselves, while the Humans were down on the lower level attempting to sleep. Over the past three days, the two aliens had noticed the steady progression of resignation in the attitudes of their shipmates, along with a growing depression. With each passing hour, they knew their chances of stopping the attack on the Earth grew slimmer. The two aliens tried their best to relate, imagining how they would feel if it were their home planets under attack.
“Yes, it would be horrible, knowing that you have no home to return to,” Jym agreed. “I haven’t been back to Fulqin in over ten standard years, yet I still know I could if I wished.”
“And what will the Expansion be like if these Kracori creatures are able to take control from the Juireans?” Kaylor asked. “We’ve seen what they are like. It’s hard to believe how quickly things have changed.” But then he grinned. “I really enjoyed your comment to Adam about all these changes taking place, and how we probably could have survived with hardly any effect.”
“I see it as truth. We are very far down any galactic hierarchy, so no one would care what we do—” Jym was interrupted by a soft, steady bleeping coming from his console. He twisted around in the seat and investigated the cause.
It was coming from a word-hit, a program he’d set up to scan all the thousands of frequencies Adam’s message had been sent out on, searching for any keywords or phrases that could possibly signal a reply. Adam had provided him with over a hundred Human words and phrase possibilities for his program. It continuously scanned the millions of open messages on these frequencies, looking for a match.
He dialed in the frequency and highlighted the phrase. His eyes grew wide – and then he slapped down on the ship’s intercom system. “Adam, I think we got a hit! Do you hear me? We got a hit!”
Adam couldn’t help but hear Jym’s call; it blared out of every speaker in the ship, jarring him from the hazy edge of sleep he was teetering on. He was fed up with trying to sleep anyway. With the depression he was feeling, what fitful sleep he was able to find was filled with nothing but horrible nightmares bordering on night terrors. All the Humans aboard were suffering from the same malady. Now he could give up the pretense of even trying to sleep.
They may have made contact with the fleet!
Adam thought he had climbed to the bridge in a hurry, yet he found he was actually the next-to-last person to enter. Only Chief Rutledge was slower; he was the oldest person in the crew and had probably been fast asleep.
“What do you have, Jym?” Adam asked as he entered.
“It’s a very strong hit,” Jym replied, his voice bouncing with excitement. “The word is Allen. That’s not your normal alien word – to use something you would say.”
“Bring up the full message. Have you been able to pull it out of all the clutter?”
“The program is just finishing. Here it is….”
“Commander SEAL Team Six to A.C. Commander SEAL Team Six, to A.C. Message received. Allen here. We have locked onto your strongest signal and are awaiting contact for urgent message. Once locked, line should be secure. Will monitor this frequency continuously. Proceed at your earliest. Allen out.”
“That’s it!” Adam confirmed. “That’s it! Lock on, Jym, before it’s gone.”
“Already working on it; only take a second … done.” He looked up at Adam and smiled. Nearly all the Humans were now looming over Jym’s station. “The link should now be secure.”
“Can we tell how far they are from us?” Sherri asked.
“Not yet,” Jym said. “The original message has been broadcasting continually for the past three days. There is no way of telling which of those messages they are responding to. Now that we are locked, there will be a direct link with your fleet. We can tell when they respond again.”
“Send a reply, Adam.” Tobias prompted.
“You got it,” Adam said. “Open the link, Jym.”
“Open.”
“Adam Cain to Allen. Action required on the following message: The Kracori are currently sending a strike force against the Earth to initiate a nuclear attack. I repeat: There is an imminent nuclear attack on the planet Earth.”
“Adam, will they know who the Kracori are?” Sherri asked. He knew her words were also being recorded and sent out simultaneously.
“You’re right. Admiral, the Kracori are a race of beings who have been working with the Klin. They are on their own now and have taken over Juir. They’re attacking the Earth now so that the fleet will return there instead of continuing to Juir. Nate, they intend on making the Earth radioactive, to make it uninhabitable. They have to be stopped.”
“Tell them they’ll probably be in Klin-type ships.” It was Tobias’ turn to amend Adam’s message.
Adam grimaced. That was a crucial piece of information he’d forgotten. “That’s right. They will undoubtedly be in Klin ships – just like the ones we have.”
“Tell him about the time line.” It was Rutledge speaking now.
Adam just grunted, but then said: “And the attack could happen at any time. Please confirm that you have received this message, but send a warning to Earth first. We don’t have any time to lose.”
“Is that it?” Jym asked, looking around at the crowd of Humans.
“I believe so,” Adam said, also scanning the anxious expressions of his companions. When no one else spoke, Adam told him to cut the link. “Now all we have to do is wait.”
“Yeah, that’s all,” Sherri said as she turned away and headed for the bridge exit. “It’s still not over yet, not by a long shot.”
Chapter 28
After catching about an hour’s sleep, Admiral Allen awoke restless and groggy and went to the wardroom for some coffee and a sandwich. It was nearing oh-four-thirty hours and he’d been up for going on thirty hours, all except for the brief nap he’d just taken. The excitement of receiving the message from Adam Cain had diminished somewhat, or it could have just been from his lack of sleep. Nothing much sparked his interest in his current zombie-like state of awareness.
But then the 1-MC in the wardroom sounded. A return message had been received and his presence was requested in CIC, immediately.
Nate knew something was up the moment he entered the room. Even in the dim light of CIC he could see that the solemn grouping of men and women standing around
RM1 Cobb at the comm console all appeared to have the blood drained from their faces. Is it just the lighting? Allen wondered as he met the frowns and round eyes of his shipmates.
The Admiral wasn’t one for beating around the bush. “What happened? This doesn’t look good.” He looked down at Cobb.
“Sir, Captain Cain has reported that the Earth is about to be hit with a nuclear strike by another alien race, not the Juireans or the Klin.”
The petty officer’s trembling voice betrayed his attempt at a straight-forward, professional report. Nate Allen was stunned, but he tried not to show it. He placed a hand on the shoulder of the younger enlisted man and said, “Please play the message for me, Mr. Cobb.” He tried to keep his voice as calm and reassuring as possible, however, once the message was through playing, Admiral Nate Allen had joined the rest of those in CIC in having all the blood drain from his face.
“Cobb, open a link to the Earth immediately. I will record a message, and then attach Cain’s to it. Do it now.”
Allen followed Cain’s advice and sent the message off to Earth before recording a return video message to him. It would take four hours for the message to reach Earth, and then another for a response. The fleet was constantly receiving and sending messages back to their homeworld, so any news from Earth would only be four hours behind. So far they’d received no information regarding an attack on the planet. Hopefully the four-hour delay in warning them would not be too late.
But Allen also knew – better than most – that simply receiving the warning didn’t guarantee that the Earth could prevent such an attack. There were so many plans and preparations to be put in place. There was an entire planet to defend, and they had no idea from where the attack would come – except that it would come from space. The attackers would be in ships just like theirs, so how could they be detected? How many ships were in the strike force, and will it be a tactical or a suicide attack? There were just so many unknowns, so many variables.