Shuttle 02, Keppler-22 ‘b’, August 15, 2020
Calvin looked over and saw the ambassador smiling as the shuttle lifted six hours later. Although he hadn’t been privy to all of the discussions, she must have gotten everything that she wanted. Part of that had included his leaving four troops on the planet. “So everything went well?” He asked.
“Yes,” she replied, “very well. The Nahuatl have agreed to open trade back up with the Aquants and to stop the practice of human sacrifice. The Aquants are very happy with our assistance in the matter and are going to make up lists of all of the things their civilization can produce. I am going to leave one of my junior diplomats here to continue to work out relations between the two civilizations, as well as to find out what types of things they might be able to provide us that will help our war effort.”
She smiled. “The way both civilizations see it,” she continued, “they owe us a number of favors, which is exactly what I wanted.”
Calvin hoped that they had something worthwhile on the planet. In addition to the combat losses he had already sustained, he was now being forced to leave Sergeant Fleischer, Sergeant Ben Shabat, Havildar Dawood Noorzai and Corporal Laveg Mackef behind to provide security for the diplomat. If this kept up much longer, it would just be he and Night on the front line.
* * * * *
Chapter Thirty-Five
Bridge, TSS Vella Gulf, Gliese 221 System, August 21, 2020
“There are three planets that orbit Gliese 221,” said Steropes, looking at the orange-red dwarf star on the view screen, “but none of them are livable. The only planet in the habitable zone is a Saturn-like gas giant. There are no other stargates into the system and no signs of life on any of the planets.” After they departed Keppler-22, the Terrans had gone through the other unknown stargate in the WASP-18 system to find Gliese 221 devoid of habitation. At least it gave his men time to heal, Calvin thought.
“Thanks,” said the CO. She turned to the front of the bridge. “Helmsman, let’s head for the stargate. We’re done here!”
Bridge, TSS Vella Gulf, Ross 248 System, August 24, 2020
“System entry,” announced Sara.
Before she could say anything, the defensive systems officer jumped up from his console. “Sir!” he called, “I’ve got signs of a battle going on. There are already a number of destroyed ships in the vicinity of the star!”
“Correction,” Steropes disagreed, looking over Sara’s shoulder. “While I agree that there was a battle in this system, it occurred 200 million miles from here. What the sensor operator is seeing actually happened 18 minutes ago. Whether that battle is still ongoing remains to be determined.” He looked back at the screen and then added, “Captain Griffin! One of the ships is a Mrowry vessel!”
“Is that good or bad?” asked the CO. “And in a related question, when are we going to get all of the galactic information downloaded to our implants so that I don’t have to ask this all of the time?”
“The Mrowry are felinoids,” answered Steropes, “and one of the founding civilizations of the Alliance of Civilizations. They are one of the most honor-bound of any of the races in the galaxy.”
“Got it,” replied Griffin, “they’re some of the good guys.”
“Do you want me to hail the Mrowry vessel?” asked the communications officer. As they had just entered the system, the Mrowry wouldn’t be aware of their presence for another 18 minutes, the time that it would take for their appearance to cross the system to the ship at the speed of light.
“Yes,” the CO ordered. “Put it on screen.”
The main view screen lit up with the face of a Bengal tiger, although it was a Bengal tiger that was predominantly black with small stripes of red. The helmsman and the engineer both flinched back unconsciously from the giant image of the predator in front of them. The other Mrowry that could be seen in the background had more red in their coloring. Long-time members of the alliance, the Vella Gulf’s computer was more than up to the task of translating for them.
The Mrowry took a second to look around the bridge. “Who are you?” it asked. “We do not recognize you.” His gaze stopped on Steropes. “You, we recognize,” he added, his voice full of menace. “It is because of you that we are in this situation.” He looked back to Captain Griffin, seated in the commanding officer’s chair. “We can discuss why you are with him at another time, but if you are a member of an honorable race, we request your assistance.”
“I am Captain Lorena Griffin of the Terran Spaceship Vella Gulf,” stated the CO. “If we can be of assistance, we certainly will. What aid do you require?”
“I am Captain Yerrow of the Mrowry cruiser Emperor’s Paw. We were transiting the system next to this one as part of a battle group when we were attacked by a Ssselipsssiss force that came out of the stargate,” replied the Mrowry officer. It didn’t appear that feline mouths were made for lizard words, and the officer had a hard time pronouncing the name of the other race, but Griffin was able to figure it out.
“We have had our own dealings with the lizards,” replied the CO. “They destroyed one of our fighters without provocation or warning. We will assist you however we can.”
“My ship provided a delaying action while our main force escaped through the stargate,” said the Mrowry, “but they were pursued by another lizard force. We fought the lizard battlecruiser that is near us to a standstill with our fighters, but the fighters have now all been destroyed. Both of our ships are shells that are operating only on emergency power. Additionally, we’ve both been captured by the star’s gravitational field, and we are being drawn in. We could probably get our ship fixed in time to avoid being pulled into the star, but the lizards have sent several shuttle loads of troops over, and we are being forced to fight them, rather than see to our repairs. Anything you could do to help us fix our ship, fight off the lizards, or keep any more from shuttling over would be helpful. The sooner, the better.”
“We’re on our way,” said Captain Griffin. “We’ll call with details momentarily. Screen off!” Her eyes traveled down from the screen to the helmsman. “Helm, set a course for their ship, max speed.” She turned to look at Calvin. “Recommendations?” she asked.
“We still have fighters on standby,” replied Calvin. “We could launch some of them now at max speed, and they’d get there a lot faster than the Gulf. They could intercept the battlecruiser and prevent any more shuttles from going over. We just need to make sure they stay outside of the ship’s self-destruct range.”
“Good idea,” noted the CO, remembering how they had lost two fighters on the previous cruise when a Ssselipsssiss commanding officer had blown up his ship to avoid being captured.
“Once we get within range,” continued Calvin, “I would recommend blowing up the lizard ship. You can give them a chance to surrender, but we really don’t want them to know we exist, and they’re probably going to self-destruct again, anyway. We can launch fighter strikes on it whenever you’d like, or you can destroy it with the Gulf. On second thought, we probably want to blow it up, regardless, rather than risk them getting a lucky shot off that destroys our one remaining shuttle.”
“Good point,” said the CO. “What are you going to be doing?”
“I’m going to be getting the platoon ready for combat,” replied Calvin. “As soon as we are ready, we’re going to launch so that we can get there to help as soon as possible. The shuttle may only have 25 G more acceleration than the Gulf, but that extra little bit might make a difference.”
“I think that’s a good plan,” said the CO after a little consideration. “Ops, launch two Asps and send them to shoot down any shuttles that the lizards try to send over to the Mrowry ship.”
“Aye aye, skipper,” the operations officer replied.
The CO turned back to Calvin. “Why are you still here?” she asked.
Asp 01, Ross 248 System, August 24, 2020
“Asp 01, this is Vella Gulf,” radioed the controller. “You
and Asp 02 are cleared to launch. You are to take station 500,000 miles off of the lizard battlecruiser that is currently engaged with a friendly cruiser. Your mission to ensure that the lizards do not launch any more of their shuttles. If they launch any, you are to destroy them. Over.”
“Asp 01 copies,” replied Lieutenant Sasaki ‘Supidi’ Akio, the space fighter’s WSO.
“Asp 02 copies,” replied its WSO, Lieutenant Zoe Brown.
“Stand by to release,” radioed the Vella Gulf. “Three, two, one, release! Good hunting, Asps.”
Supidi looked at his pilot as their fighter detached and headed away from the Vella Gulf. “Killing lizards?” he asked. “That’s a mission I could get used to.”
“No kidding,” replied his pilot, Lieutenant Carl ‘Guns’ Simpson. “The only good lizard is a dead lizard. Except for the ones in the skipper’s special forces platoon, I guess.”
“Those two are funny,” said Supidi. “One of them even thinks that the ship’s food tastes good.”
“He must have left his taste buds back on his home planet,” laughed Guns.
Platoon Briefing Room, TSS Vella Gulf, Ross 248 System, August 24, 2020
“OK, guys and gals, here’s the deal,” said Calvin to the assembled platoon. “There is a ship full of good cat-people that is going to drift into this system’s star if we don’t get over there and help its crew kill a bunch of lizards that have gotten onboard. As the folks that made the first cruise know, the Ssselipsssiss are bipedal lizards that are seven feet tall and extremely aggressive. We know that they will attack on sight, so shoot them first. We expect them to have at least rifles and hand weapons; they may have heavier weapons and explosives, as well. If you have to go hand-to-hand with them, they also have very sharp teeth and claws and a tail with sharp spikes.”
“Our primary mission,” Calvin continued, “is to help the cat-people regain control of their ship from the Ssselipsssiss. We will do so by going aboard and killing all of the lizards that we can find on it. I don’t have the schematics of the ship yet, so we will have to make this up as we go along. Unless otherwise noted, you are cleared to kill anything with scales on sight. They tend to thrash around once they are terminally wounded, so stay back if possible. Any questions?”
Not seeing any, he added, “Good. Gear up! The shuttle leaves in 10 minutes.”
Before Master Chief could get them in motion, a strange crashing sound was heard from the corridor. SLAM! Pause. SLAM! Pause. SLAM! The noise got closer, and then a giant metal figure walked through the door. Eight feet tall, it looked every bit the part of a giant combat robot from the movies, complete with a variety of guns mounted on it. Most of its chest was closed off, and its head was turning slowly side to side. It stopped when it saw Calvin and slowly marched over to him, passing the twins along the way.
“Duuuuuude!” was all Good Twin could say in amazement.
“Damn, dude,” said Bad Twin, quicker to regain his senses. “I didn’t know we had any Terminators.”
As the robot came to a stop in front of Calvin and saluted, the medibot came rolling into the briefing room. “This is not acceptable!” it squawked. “Not acceptable! Return to the sick bay immediately! You are not cleared for duty.”
Realizing what he was seeing, Calvin returned the salute. “Hi Staff Sergeant,” he said, with a smile. “You seem a little taller than the last time I saw you.”
“I... want... to... come... with... you...” said Staff Sergeant Dantone in a flat, tinny voice.
“Unacceptable!” said the medibot. “He has only just recovered from his final operation. He is not prepared for combat. He doesn’t even have all of his systems online yet! He is non-functional. He doesn’t have his combat skin on yet. He needs to return to sick bay!”
“Looks like the medibot doesn’t think that you are ready for duty yet,” noted Calvin.
“I.. am.. not.. entirely.. functional...... yet,” replied Staff Sergeant Dantone, his reply seeming to come a little more normally. “But.. I.. am.. getting..... better.” The voice was still tinny and without inflection. “The.. medibot.. tells.. me.. that.. I.. will.. walk.. and.. talk.. better.. the.. more.. I.. do.. it.”
“I don’t think so,” replied Calvin. “I can tell that you are still trying to figure out how to use your systems. I think that you would probably be more of a hindrance than a help.”
“Please. let. me. go,” the cyborg said. “If. you. woke. up. like. this. you. would. want. something. to. take. your. mind. off. of. it..... for. a. while.”
Calvin looked at the medibot. If it had feet, Calvin could tell that it would be tapping one of them right about now. “How much experience do you have with converting humans to cyborgs?” he asked.
“This is my first,” replied the medibot. “His conversion is not complete, though. He still needs training. We still need to fix his voice. There are many things that haven’t been completed on him yet!”
“Even though there are things still left to complete,” Calvin said, “does he have enough complete to be able to function in combat?”
“He might be able to function in combat,” replied the medibot, “but he doesn’t have enough experience to be effective. For one thing, he is still too slow for combat.”
“Let. me. go,” said Dantone. “I. don’t. have. to. be. mobile. Use. me. as. a. fixed. defense.” He paused. “I’d. cry. but. even. that. is. denied. to. me. Please. Let. me. go.”
“Hmmm,” said the medibot, reconsidering. “The lack of ability to display emotions is one of the major causes of cyborg malfunction, especially in primitive societies. If this is an issue, I will temporarily certify him for combat with the condition that he report to sick bay when you return.”
“I will,” promised the cyborg. “Wait. What do you mean by ‘malfunction’?”
“In primitive societies, like your own, there is a high rate of cyborg malfunction during the conversion process,” replied the medibot. “Many primitive races are unable to deal with a lack of emotions and the loss of some of their senses.”
“What happens?” asked Calvin.
“They go crazy,” answered the medibot, “and have to be terminated.”
* * * * *
Chapter Thirty-Six
Asp 01, Ross 248 System, August 24, 2020
“Vella Gulf, this is Asp 01,” radioed Supidi. “The lizards are launching their shuttles. Request permission to fire.”
“Permission granted, 01,” replied the Vella Gulf. “You are cleared to destroy the shuttles.”
The WSO looked across the cockpit at his pilot. As one of the most senior crews, they had been the first to transition from the Vipers to the Asps. “It’s obvious that they don’t know we are here,” he commed. “It’s overkill to use a ship killer missile on them, but it is better to do it now then wait for them to get close to the Mrowry ship.” He fine-tuned the targeting information on his display. “Both targets are designated,” he said. Supidi moved the arming switch to ‘on.’ “Weapons are armed; you are cleared to fire.”
“Yeah, their sensors must be out,” agreed Guns. “Sucks to be them...but not for much longer. I still owe them for the last time out.” They had flown past the lizard battlecruiser, and it was holed in many places where missiles had hit it. He had stopped counting at six; the number of laser and graser holes were beyond counting. It was so badly shot up that most of the spaces that were open to vacuum weren’t venting any more. Everyone must be in suits...or dead. The key hole was where engineering used to be. Whatever had hit it there must have caused the motor to overload. There wasn’t much left of the aft end of the ship. Hitting it with a couple more anti-ship missiles would just be putting it out of its misery.
Obviously, some of the lizards still had some fight left in them, as the two shuttles finished turning and began accelerating toward the Mrowry ship. “Fox One at the lead shuttle,” Guns commed, thought-clicking the button that launched the weapon. “Fox One at the trail shuttle,” he added, lau
nching a second missile.
The shuttles had no idea that they were even under fire as the missiles streaked toward them. The Terran missiles were equipped with a variety of electronic counter-measures to help them defeat jamming and decoys; none were needed in this case. The missiles tracked in on the shuttles, and twin 215 megaton blasts ensued, completely destroying both shuttles.
“I know it had to be done,” commented Supidi as he watched the balls of expanding plasma, “but there was little honor in it.”
Shuttle 02, Ross 248 System, August 24, 2020
“Five minutes to touchdown,” commed the weapon systems officer, Lieutenant Faith Ibori. “We will be docking at the aft end of the ship. The Mrowry will meet us at the entryway and get you pointed in the right direction.”
“Copy that,” replied Calvin. “Hey, Faith, are you in communication with the Mrowry ship at the moment?”
“I spoke to them earlier,” replied the WSO. “Do you need something? I can call them back.”
“Yeah,” answered Calvin. “We’ll be packed like sardines if we all go in the same place. Call them back and tell them that the boarding force recommends dropping off one squad where they previously indicated and the other squad at the front of the ship. We can then meet in the middle and trap the lizards between us. Also, let them know that we have two lizards in our force, but they are a different species and will be wearing our suits.”
“Stand by,” said Faith, “I’ll give them a call.”
“That’s a better idea,” said Night. “Do you want the front or the back?”
“I’ll take the back,” replied Calvin. “You have more experience with busting into places. Why don’t you take the Space Force to the front after dropping off the Ground Force with me at the back?”
When the Gods Aren't Gods: Book Two of The Theogony Page 25