by Carl Hubrick
Commander Sinha did not heed the computer now – there was no need – the enemy squadron was on the visual screen. She switched to 500 magnification.
Range 200 kilometres and closing…
She sat forward suddenly. In the name of Bess, the lead ship was a battleship. Even by itself, a warship of that size far outgunned the total firepower of her little flotilla.
Range…
“Damn!” The computer was displaying an illustration of the Megran battleship to all her ships for all the crews to see, citing its name and that of its commander, listing its capabilities and its weaponry…
Range…
“Riddick! Turn that damned computer off!”
Arrogant machine, it was calmly computing the inevitability of their own destruction.
“All ships! All ships! Go to captain’s control for firing orders.”
The battleship’s grey shape grew fast. It was so huge. What range? What range. She could not wait.
“Fire!” The Daring’s light-bolt cannons thundered into action.
The light-speed bolts hit the power shields on the enemy battleship’s bow and danced harmlessly down the big ship’s side.
“Damn! We fired too soon. Recharge!”
Now the giant ship was almost upon them. Its turrets flashed. Two hundred high-powered light-bolts slashed through the Daring’s power shields to the naked hull. The bridge computer face exploded in a shower of brilliant sparks like fireworks.
“Fire!”
Air loss alarms. Somewhere, the Daring’s hull was rent apart. Airlock doors were closing fast trapping some of her crew in an airless tomb.
“Fire!” She saw the Daring’s light-bolts, at point blank range, bounce off the battleship’s armoured hull.
“Fire!” There was no hope…
“Fire!” The energy charge was almost gone…
“Fire!” One last burst before their breath snuffed out…
The final explosion, when it came, seemed far away. And it did not seem to Usha Sinha that she was dying as she should. The flash was blinding, but there was no pain, and the roaring in her ears was like the cheering of a thousand men.
She heard a gasp, which was her own, and her dark eyes fluttered open and stared wide. The Daring’s bridge was there and her bridge chair too, but where the battleship had been, was now a white-hot glow, like a miniature supernova. And all around, swift bright patterns of whirling debris were soaring out into the vastness of the empty dark.
The unbelievable had happened - a lucky shot or some ancient god? She did not know. But she was alive and the enemy destroyed. What mattered more for the moment?
The other hostiles now turned and fled, and she let them go. She had no care for what her captains might dare to think or say. They had defended the space lanes for the good queen’s fleet, and that had been their purpose after all.
* * *
Commander Usha Sinha stared out through the transparent dome of the Daring’s bridge. Everything was going well. All around her was the clatter and hiss of tools as robots and crewmembers alike worked to replace the burnt-out computer and make repairs to the damaged hull. But there was more. Everywhere about, the air was vibrant with the exhilaration of their victory. Every crewmember’s face was bright with relief and pride, every face, but one…
The commander stared out into the endless dark. She knew her crew well and there was not an entry in their personal files she could not bring back instantly to mind when the occasion required it. According to the entry under family, Able Spaceman, Jared John Riddick, had a widowed mother living on the planet, Earth, and an uncle, a commander in the Megran fleet.
The boy had just reduced the number of his living relatives by half.
Chapter 33
The battle lost
“On your left, Lars!” Hakim shouted.
“I see him!” Lars swung the laser-share around on its crude built mount – fired and missed. But it mattered little. The blast from the near miss caused the enemy trooper to lose control of his silver horse and collide with another throwing both riders to the ground, their machines careering into the smoke and dust to cause more mayhem. Megran horses were everywhere, at times too numerous to avoid each other.
“Good shooting, Lars,” Hakim cried exultant from the driver’s seat of the plough. “Two with one shot – that’s showing ’em.”
But the fierce circle of horses around them came on still.
The ploughs had formed into a defensive square with the hostages on foot inside. Like some ancient phalanx, battle weary behind its shields, the square was moving slowly across the open, away from the fort, in the direction of the nearest sturdy black stone fence. The fence would provide cover of sorts. They had no further plan than that.
Of the hundred war-changed ploughs that had begun the day only fifty-seven remained. Behind each trigger, a grim faced farmer waged battle just to go home again, his fervour for the cause forgotten.
“Here they come again!”
“Steady Hakim, steady!” Lars pulled down on the laser-share bringing its barn-built sights to bear on the fast moving targets. They came in on all sides of the square at once, swift and cruel like sharks. Like a bad dream, they came…
“C’mon!” Lars muttered savagely, his jaw clenched tight. A silver horse, one in hundreds, was coming fast toward him in his sights.
“C’mon!” His finger curled on the trigger, squeezing gently. “Get into range!”
The horse seemed to obey.
“Shoot, Lars, shoot!”
His finger jerked on the trigger. The ploughshare roared and the horse exploded in the beam’s fiery path.
“Fire!” The cry echoed in the grey smoke air and the four sides of the Trionian square erupted in a thunder of blazing light. From the Megran foe, the blinding blasts of horse cannon-fire came in sharp reply, explosions everywhere upon the air.
“Two on your right, Lars – coming fast.
“I see ’em.”
“Give it to them good, Lars!”
The laser-share erupted, discharging a burning beam, but the range was too far.
A shower of white-hot sparks from a near miss rained down about them, causing them both to scramble under the cover of the cockpit’s crude armour.
“Damn! That one was close.”
Behind them came the deep boom of an exploding plough, its crew incinerated. A split second later, there came another. A golden light now lit the grey air around them. The eerie glow from the burning ploughs.
“Lars!” Hakim’s voice was almost lost amid the crack and smack of Megran cannon fire about them. “We can’t survive this for too much longer my friend. They out gun us, the plough shares just don’t have the range.”
Lars looked into his friend’s tired face, smudged with the grime of smoke and war. “I know,” he said. “But we’ve got to go on, Hakim. Win or lose, we’ve come too far. There’s no way back.”
* * *
Lars did not know how long they fought. Life has no measure on the battlefield – no past, no future – death stands too close. He was aware only of the nanosecond of the present, his finger on the trigger, the smell of fire and smoke, and the awful sights and sounds of battle.
Take aim – fire! Take aim – fire! Nothing else belonged.
* * *
“Hold your fire!” The cry was rising from the ploughs behind them.
“Hold your fire! Cease firing!” The farmer in the plough next to them in the line was waving frantically at them to stop.
At once, Lars became aware that the flashes of fire from the enemy cannons too, had ceased, and that the harsh sounds of battle were fading from the air.
The Megran ranks seemed suddenly in disarray, many of the Megran horses moving in slow tight circles, as if uncertain what next to do or where to go.
Lars stood and stared out, and witnessed the reason for their uncertainty, saw it and felt the burden of it all lift from his shoulders and his heart begin to sing. None of it had been in vai
n…
In one broad line across the near horizon, as yet like toys upon a green table-top, came a host of red coated soldiers, riding high on bright silver horses. They were coming fast, flashes of sunlight sparkling on weapons and armour, the tall tail fins of their machines massed against the skyline like a forest of proud flags.
The soldiers of the queen had come.
In an instant, the Megran horses were in full flight, escape the one thought on their minds. They swept past the phalanx of ploughs in one great flood, the Commonwealth forces in hot pursuit. And above the high-pitched whine of racing hover-motors came the sounds of singing, as the farmers and hostages joined their voices in the ancient hymn of praise for their queen.
Send her victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to-o reign over us…
* * *
Lars stood in the plough’s cockpit, his gaze searching the excited throng that now streamed out through the square of ploughs into the open. He saw his sister, Helen, run out to join her friends and companions. She turned and waved, and called to him to come. Then she was swept away by the joyful crowd.
Hakim jumped down and joined in the dancing and singing, his dark head whirling and bobbing, intoxicated with victory.
Lars’s gaze roved on seeing faces that he knew, men and women, friends and neighbours, Trionians all. But his elation in the victory was not forthcoming. It seemed he had looked everywhere, studied every face, seen all but the one face that he wanted…
The voice that suddenly spoke behind him was quiet, feminine, and had the distinctive cut-glass accent of an Earth education.
“Are you looking for someone, Lars?” the quiet voice asked.
He smiled and turned, a sudden surge of joy within, and found himself looking into the most beautiful pair of hazel coloured eyes he had ever seen…
The End
Epilogue
They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.
Isaiah 2:4 (New King James version of The Bible)
The Megran forces on Trion did not put up much resistance after that, and wisely so, for as the commander of the Commonwealth Forces told Lars later, the queen had shown a special interest in Trion and insisted that her own regiment, the elite of Earth’s fighting forces, be sent there. Only the best was good enough for Trion, she had said, for after all she had friends there.
The Megran commander on Trion, General York, surrendered one hour and fifty-seven minutes after the Commonwealth landings. Nothing more is known of what became of him.
At the same time, though worlds away, the VIP hostages held in the cellar prison below Ferdinand’s palace were spirited away from under the very nose of the prince, himself, in a daring rescue that came to be known as the Kitchen-hand Raid.
The rescue of the hostages on the other occupied planets, and the success of the counter attacks that followed, quickly broke Ferdinand’s hold on the peoples of the Earth Commonwealth of Planets and thwarted his plan of conquest. Five Earth days later the rebel planet, Megran, surrendered to the queen’s commander-in- chief, Admiral Arlos, and the fighting was at an end.
With the Commonwealth once more secure in the queen’s name, the ploughs, which had done so much in the early stages of the conflict, returned to their primary task in the new fields of the black rock planets, and everywhere else the weapons of war took on the shine of peace once more.
Historian’s Note
Much has been said and written since about those days, and many and varied are the schools of thought upon the matter. However, on three points at least it seems all are agreed.
One: The transformation of the rock plough into a weapon of war – the Kelmutt Weapon, as it came to be called, was a prime factor in the ultimate success of the Commonwealth forces.
Two: If one battle or event can ever be said to be a turning point in a war, then the destruction of Prince Ferdinand’s flagship – the battleship, ironically enough named Queen Elizabeth V – by Her Majesty’s cruiser Daring was such an event. Megran morale and feeling of invincibility suffered greatly on that day.
Three: It was perhaps the arrogance of the aristocrat, and the obsequious praise of his courtiers that led Prince Ferdinand to deny the extent of the mixed loyalties in his domain. Many there were who were not firmly allied to the prince’s ambition, and had definite thoughts of resistance. Thus, when the tide of battle turned against Ferdinand, and his cause was in doubt, these groups rose up to seal his fate.
Of Prince Ferdinand, one time governor of the planet Megran, there is little more history can add. He was never captured, nor was his body discovered among the dead, and his whereabouts remains a mystery to this day, though speculation abounds. Many have it that he escaped to the far-flung fringes of the Commonwealth where the few surviving pirates dwell in darkness. Others believe the highest-ranking officers of his realm murdered him in an attempt to deny their own part in the insurrection, and that he is buried in an unmarked grave.
* * *
Further Footnote:
As the arrow of time made its way on through the years, the Lady Caroline became queen in her turn, and her husband, Lars Kelmutt, was made a prince of the realm.
After a long and successful reign, a reign in which civilisation blossomed to its finest, Her Majesty, Queen Caroline, handed over her throne to her eldest child, Helen, named after her husband’s sister.
Helen became Helen I, queen of the Earth Commonwealth of Planets in the year 2226 AD. That, however, is another story.
Acknowledgements
Scripture taken from the New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
The standard version of God Save the Queen is used in this story. The lyrics are from the earliest known form of the anthem, its first firm dating being 1745.
God save our gracious Queen!
Long live our noble Queen!
God save the Queen!
Send her victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us:
God save the Queen!
The author is uncertain…
And, as always, my thanks to Wikipedia for all those facts and matters, big and small, one needs to check.
Appendix
Goldilocks Planet
The term, Goldilocks Planet, comes from the fairy tale Goldilocks and the Three Bears. It describes any planet that could possibly support life.
Goldilocks planets are those worlds that are the right distance from their sun, neither too hot nor too cold… They are also neither too big nor too small. In other words, they are “just right”…
In our own solar system, only Earth and Mars are in the Goldilocks zone.
Orion Spur / The Milky Way Galaxy
Our solar system is on the outskirts of the Milky Way Galaxy, some 25,000 light years from its centre, in a minor spiral arm called the Orion Spur.
The six planets of the Earth Commonwealth of Planets in this story are set in the Orion Spur, as it would seem unlikely at this time we will ever travel farther.
The Jupiter Trojans
The Jupiter Trojans are a sizeable group of asteroids in the same orbit around the sun as Jupiter. They are dark reddish or burgundy in colour. Many are more than 1 km in diameter, others no more than rock size.
Wormhole
A wormhole is a hypothetical passageway through space-time that could offer short cuts for space travellers.
Einstein’s theory of general relativity proposes this possibility.
Quantum Physics
Quantum Physics is the field of study that defies much of what scientists once believed about elementary particles.
Progress in this field of science may well lead to applications not yet dreamed of by science fiction writers.
Dark energy
Dark energy is a form of energy postulate
d to explain the accelerating expansion of the universe. If this theory is correct, dark energy contributes some 68.3% of the total energy in the known universe.
Dark energy should not be confused with dark matter. The latter is a hypothetical substance, which may account for some five sixths of matter in the universe. Currently undetectable, its presence is theorised by its gravitational influence on visible matter.
Antimatter
Antimatter is a form of matter composed of antiparticles. These have the same mass as ordinary matter particles, but opposite charges. Collisions between particles and antiparticles lead to the annihilation of both, resulting in a release of energy.
Multiverse
Many cosmologists, physicists, and others believe our universe might be just one of an infinite number of universes. There is some scientific merit to this hypothesis, but it is perhaps unlikely that true scientific testing of the theory will ever be possible.
Author’s Note
The reader will no doubt have recognised that the science referred to for the photon engine, wave gun, light-bolt weapons and the like are as much fiction as this story. Vessels that can travel as fast as or faster than the speed of light may never be possible.