Antares Crucible

by Warwick Gibson

  ParapSanni hadn’t faced such a possibility against the Sumerian home world, Uruk, but the industrial planet, Rokar, had been destroyed by the moon of the fifth planet in the system. The Sumerian leader had to ask himself what he would do if Uruk was under such a threat. He said he would call back, and closed the sub-space connection while he took time to think more deeply about his reply.

  In the end ParapSanni wasn’t sure he could justify his actions to his own people, if he gave away the last of the Sumerian defensive capabilities in protection of Earth. Politically he couldn’t make it fly. But a greater truth than politics moved him to agree to Cordez’ request.

  He could see that the Sumerian empire did not have the ability to defeat the enemy forces on its own, but the Alliance might be able to. Cordez and Prometheus had already changed the way they thought and fought to meet the Invardii threat, and that sort of flexibility was what the Alliance needed.

  Cordez listened quietly when ParapSanni called back and agreed to send him the remaining Sumerian warships. He had always felt a kinship with this Par’Sanni leader who had so earnestly tried to bring change to the Sumerian empire, and dedicated his life to that purpose. Now, it seemed, his assessment of ParapSanni’s moral values was proving correct.

  The armada attacking Earth was going to try and take Deimos, Cordez was sure of it. The cost of subduing Earth with ground forces was proving too high, and the only choice left to them to neutralize the Human threat was to destroy their home planet.

  It was time to make a point. The battle that was fought at Deimos would determine who won the struggle for control of the Solar System. The Alliance had to make such a massive dent in the armada that it was no longer strong enough to subdue Earth, or destroy it with a moon.

  He didn’t need to think about it before he told ParapSanni what he wanted the Sumerian warships to do.

  A few hours later the armada split into two unequal groups. The bulk of the Reaper ships stayed with Earth, and Cordez guessed the groundships would soon return to the surface to continue the destruction of the bunkers.

  Eight of the giant flagships still remained after the encounter with the Sumerian motherships, and these now moved out of the armada and headed for Mars, accompanied by close to 400 of the Reaper ships.

  They want to make sure, said Cordez to himself. They don’t want any mistakes at Deimos this time. But that could work to the advantage of the Alliance too. If this force could be destroyed, they wouldn’t have the numbers remaining to subdue Earth.

  He took a deep breath. Destroying such a large Invardii force wasn’t going to be easy. It was going to come down to who wanted the victory the most.

  The flagships were the key. Destroy them and the Hud squadrons might be able to take care of the Reaper ships. Even now, Prometheus was working non-stop to turn out more of Carlos Paula’s shield-busting missiles. They had plenty of the standard military missiles, but removing the thermonuclear warheads at speed was tricky, and inserting the complex electronic components of Carlos’ invention wasn’t much easier. Still, another of the Hud Squadrons was preparing to arm itself with the new weapons as they came off the production line.

  Cordez picked up the latest images from the Mars satellites. Eight vast oblongs in space were growing larger on the overhead screens as they approached Deimos, and four hundred ornately fashioned orange shapes swarmed out of the blackness of space to stand beside them.

  The remaining Sumerian warships were on their way from a position outside the Solar System, where they had been waiting for the release of the three wings they had left behind at Deimos. They would soon be closing in on Deimos.

  Cordez ran through the Alliance plan once more with Air Marshall Cagill. It was going to depend on chance as much as planning. There were so many unknowns it couldn’t really be called a plan at all, more a collection of guesses.

  Cordez hadn’t had much need of a God in his life, but he also knew there would always be things beyond his control. In his heart he had long ago realized that hoping for a utopia made by men and women was foolishness. That left the words of men and women who spent their lives communing with the unknown to be his inspiration.

  He offered up a prayer that the survival of the Human race meant something, and wasn’t only about himself and his personal desires, and turned back to the screen. The eight massive Invardii flagships arrived at a point midway between Mars and Deimos, with their attendant Reaper ships in a dense protective screen around them.

  CHAPTER 6

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  The Hud squadron and three wings of warships stationed at Deimos retreated before the overwhelming numbers of the enemy. They joined up with the Alliance force under Air Marshall Cagill as it returned from its position out beyond Jupiter’s orbit.

  Then fifty Reaper ships left the main force, and settled around Deimos as if they owned it.

  Their intention was clear. They would rebuild the towers on one end of the moon and fire it into the Earth, destroying all life on the planet and ending the threat posed by Human civilization. The challenge was also clear. Try and stop us – if you think you can.

  Cagill didn’t hesitate, and attacked the main Invardii force as soon as he was close enough to them. The small force of Reaper ships guarding Deimos could wait.

  The Javelins worked their way around the outside of the massed Reaper ships, looking for openings. They were especially wary of the flagships, and their Javelin-killing tails of orange fire.

  The Sumerian warships were now approaching fast. One group of warships stretched out in front of the others. Timing the attack to include that leading group, the Javelin squadrons preceded them into the thick of the Invardii fleet, drawing the attack by the Reaper ships onto their Druanii shields.

  There were soon twenty or more Javelins raking each flagship with salvos of super-dense slugs. The orange beams flickered out in retaliation, and a handful of the Javelins ceased to exist.

  The Sumerian warships were following close behind, and now they raced past the Javelins and slammed into the sides of the flagships, ten and twenty at a time, their weapons systems and stardrives overloading as they did so.

  Cordez had asked ParapSanni to slave each wing of warships to the lead ship, and send them in as unmanned bombs. They had done it before at Saurok, and at Uruk, and the Invardii had learned to destroy the warships before they got too close. But this time the small number of warships, protected by the Javelins, had been able to get through.

  Invardii arrogance, thought Cordez grimly, and the Human ability to do the unexpected. We do ‘unexpected’ very well, he thought, as the first of the flagships brewed up, blowing out along its sides.

  Then the Javelins were all over the flagships, dozens to each one, pumping the super-dense slugs into their weakened structures. Hornets on an elephant, thought Cordez, remembering the thoughts he’d had when he first saw the Reaper ships, many years ago.

  Two more flagships split open in a series of internal explosions. Cordez could hardly contain his excitement at the sight, but then the remaining flagships steadied. Another half dozen of the Javelins blinked out of existence as they were struck by the writhing orange beams.

  ParapSanni committed the last of the unmanned warships to the attack, and they arrowed through the Invardii fleet on a straight-line run for the remaining flagships. But this time the Reaper ships were ready for them, and over half were cut apart by coronal arcs, exploding in bright flashes of light before they could do any damage.

  Enough got through to pepper the closest of the flagships, and two of the giant ships were pushed past their limits by the combined warship and Javelin attack. They turned a vermilion red, and faded to become black, lifeless hulks.

  Three flagships left, thought Cordez desperately. Only three, and we are fresh out of ways of dealing with them.

  Then a message came in from Cagill.

  “The EarthGov Javelins aren’t responding,” he said, “and comms is picking up a lot of traffic
on an internal band.”

  The Earth pilots had always been loyal to the Alliance, and were a tightly knit part of Cagill’s command structure. Cordez couldn’t see any problems arising now. The original 80 Earth warships refitted as Javelins by Prometheus had been whittled down to 52 by the fighting, and now they pulled out of the struggle. They hung in space on the edge of the fray.

  “Comms has found the frequency they’re talking on,” said Cagill, and switched over to that frequency, so Cordez could hear it.

  “… got your numbers,” said a voice. “Squadron Leader Pinter has taken the names of three squadrons out of the hat,” he heard. “They are K, M and C flights.” There was a pause. Cordez recognized the voice of Commander Dawson, head of the Earth Javelins.

  “I would like to thank you all for volunteering,” said the commander solemnly. “I acknowledge the gravity of what you are prepared to do for your friends and families on Earth. This act of courage will forever live in our history.”

  The commander paused. “God go with you,” he said finally.

  There was a click, and the transmission ended. Cordez was at first annoyed that they were planning an action on their own. Once the chain of command was broken, any fighting force became little more than a rabble.

  Then three of the EarthGov squadrons re-entered the melee around the giant flagships. The first of them threw itself against the nearest of the giant ships, followed quickly by similar attacks on the other two ships.

  Cordez sat down abruptly, his vision obscured by the sudden appearance of tears in his eyes. The crews of those squadrons had given their lives to save Earth, he thought woodenly. Then he asked himself, would he have found that much courage? Would he have discovered that much love for the place where he’d been born?

  He thought of Asura, and he thought of the wilds in the Andes where he went climbing with his friends, and he was surprised to find he would give his life for that love.

  To take your life to escape pain was foolishness – for every one like that there were ten who bore the pain and a few years later were glad they had done so. To give your life so that others might live, this showed something different. It showed someone who had embraced life, and loved it, and wanted others to have that gift.

  The EarthGov squadrons got it right when they attacked. The flagships would get one or two of them, but there was no room for mistakes. The squadrons slammed into the same spot along the side of the giant ships, one after another, a string of them that never seemed to end. They punched a gradually increasing hole into each flagship body, and the last one or two buried themselves in the flagship’s heart.

  There was an interminable moment that seemed to stretch forever. Cordez discovered he was holding his breath. Then the last three flagships simultaneously turned inside out, splitting into fragments that tumbled end over end away from the explosion.

  Cordez couldn’t believe it, but all the flagships were gone, and the Earth squadrons had made it possible. The armada had been reduced to a force the Alliance could now deal with. The Invardii flagships had been destroyed, against all odds, and that gave the Alliance a chance to come back from its desperate position.

  But it wasn’t over yet, thought Cordez. There were still close to 400 Reaper ships to contend with. How many of the new missiles had Carlos’ production team managed to put together?

  Moments later he got an answer to that question. Cagill opened a comms link to tell him the Hud squadron standing off from Prometheus was now fully armed with the new missiles. Did he want it to join the Alliance forces facing the Reaper ships?

  Cordez confirmed the order, and turned to the long-range sensors that were watching developments around Deimos. Some of the Reaper ships were working on the small moon, re-building the conversion towers no doubt. Cordez didn’t care what they did. They wouldn’t get the chance to finish their hellish work..

  The Alliance fleet stood off as the smaller part of the armada reformed around the Reaper ships building towers on Deimos. The Hud squadron armed with Carlos’ missiles arrived, and slowed to a stop alongside the squadron that had already done so much damage with the new missiles.

  That first squadron didn’t have many of the missiles left, and Cagill held back as the two squadrons spread the missiles more evenly between them. Then the Air Marshall had twenty Javelins, and their accompanying Sumerian warships, in the front line against the armada. As soon as they were ready, he gave the order to proceed.

  Buoyantly, almost jubilantly, the Alliance front line pressed forward. They were, for the first time, no longer fighting on an unequal footing. All they had ever wanted was a fair crack at the Reaper ships, and now they had that chance. Still greatly outnumbered, the Alliance forces no longer seemed to care about that.

  The main body of Javelins swarmed among the Reaper ships, keeping them busy, keeping them off balance. With the flagships no longer part of the picture, the two sides resumed their delicate dance, shields protecting both sides so the only losses were an occasional one here and there.

  Then the Javelin squadrons fitted with the new missiles struck, each Javelin followed by a Sumerian warship. They unloaded a missile into each Reaper ship that they encountered. The Sumerians followed hard, and cut jagged holes in the Reaper ships as their shields went down.

  Cordez watched the enemy ships flicker out and go cold in the freezing emptiness of space. Some of them blew apart as ruptured power systems overloaded. Alliance confidence began to grow, and the numbers on either side became more equal. Then the area around Deimos started to look like a Reaper ship graveyard.

  We have to keep going, thought Cordez savagely. We need to destroy them, down to the very last one. The Alliance has to drive home an unmistakable message – we will sacrifice everything to save our home planet. The cost of conquering Earth is too high.

  As the Alliance numerical superiority increased, groups of Javelins attacked individual Reaper ships, weakening them enough to get some shots through into the internal hubs and spars. When the shield-busting missiles ran out, the Sumerian energy weapons were able to take over and bite through shields weakened by a flurry of super-dense slugs.

  The Reaper ships fought to a bitter and predictable end. Cordez wasn’t sure if they simply never grasped the fact they were beaten – as if such a thing was not possible – or whether they chose some sort of ‘death before dishonor’ code, but it was the end he needed to see.

  The loss of so many placed the Invardii armada in an unwinnable position. Their groundships would continue to be picked off by the pulse weapons, and Cordez was sure the dwindling numbers must be a problem for them by now.

  On top of that, attempts to drive a moon or asteroid into Earth would now be met with a greater force than the enemy could muster. Surely the Invardii could see this now. To make sure he drove this point home, Cordez asked ParapSanni to bring the remaining five Sumerian motherships back into the Solar System.

  He hoped the Invardii would understand that the situation had changed. They were up against superior forces now, and the only reasonable course of action for them was to leave the Solar System.

  Once they did, they would never come back – he promised himself that. The Alliance would take the fight to them from now on. They would never, ever, get the chance to return to Earth!

  As if in answer to Cordez’ hope that they would understand their situation, the remainder of the armada turned away from its position above Earth. One by one they winked out as they engaged stardrive systems. Then the effect accelerated, and row upon row of the orange ships disappeared in long ripples of multi-colored light. The last of them vanished, and Cordez put his head in his hands, and relief flooded through him.

  Then a sub-space connection lit up in front of him. It was Prometheus.

  “The gutless slag-spawn jumped right on top of us,” yelled John MacEwart into the link. Cordez could see pandemonium in the comms center behind him. Most of the comms officers were running for the emergency ships, and a produ
ction center on a screen behind him disintegrated as an orange fireball hit it.

  “There was no stardrive signature when they arrived!” continued MacEwert. “Normally we get a few minutes warning as this end of the jump forms, but there was nothing.

  “I bet they’ve hit every mining center across the Solar System at the same time, except the Mars miners where the Javelins are. God knows how much of this mess we can salvage.”

  He was about to say something else when the screen went blank. Cordez hastily moved to back-up channels, but there was nothing coming out of Prometheus now, not on any channel.

  So, the Invardii had left a poisoned sting in their departure. Would he have expected anything else? Cordez put away his feelings for the people on Prometheus, people he knew so well. He hoped they were all on their way to somewhere safe.

  He changed the data feeds in front of him, and looked at the main screen as an image of Earth appeared on it.

  It was an Earth still burning in a dozen places. An Earth bleeding hundreds of smokey smudges. The atmosphere of the blue and white planet was pocked with them. But it was an Earth, nonetheless, that was free of the hated alien presence.

  Cordez could hear the cheers from his staff in the rest of the South Am military headquarters. They were celebrating many things – still being alive for one, and the miraculous achievements of the defense forces. The Alliance had fought the Invardii to a standstill.

  Cordez could feel the importance of the moment. This was the turning point in the war. He remembered the words of another politician, pushed back to an island home and standing against another kind of madness, five centuries earlier.

  “This is not yet the beginning of the end; but it is the end, of the beginning.”

  PART THREE: REBUILDING A PLANET

  CHAPTER 7

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