His forces split up, and his job now was to monitor results. It wasn’t long before the guns on his own cruiser began pounding away. As he studied their progress, a grin found its way to his face. The Chessori mounted multiple weapons on each ship, but his gunners had a longer reach, and their shots quickly overwhelmed Chessori shields.
His ship waded in, taking on multiple targets simultaneously. Chessori ships fell, but others regrouped and attempted to engulf him. When the going got too demanding, his captain jumped away, then focused on another area.
Godfries’ fast frigates joined him six hours later. They had just finished their break and were anxious to get started. Most important, they had become experienced fighters. No longer were Earth’s forces a big question mark. Their training had worked, and they presented a formidable force. The flanks of the approaching Chessori were slowly but constantly shrinking.
* * * * *
Stven brought Resolve closer to the battle, but he remained outside the effective range of the scree. For most, the mind weapon of the Chessori simply disabled, but for Krys, the scree caused physical damage. No one knew why, but it was the scree that had blinded her. He would do everything in his power to keep her away from its effects.
He studied the battle through the net. Never before had he seen so many ships in one place. To him, the battle looked like a total free-for-all. The Chessori, vastly outnumbering Earth’s forces, had formed into a ball-shaped formation, a ball that had noticeably flattened at the front where it met the oncoming defenders. Around the periphery of the Chessori battle group, shields winked on and off constantly, and Chessori ships fell to the onslaught. Along the forward edge, fighting was so intense that the AI displayed a solid region of brightness.
He studied the beautiful gem of a world not far in the distance, a world whose place in all this defied description. So important was Earth to the Empire’s fight against the Chessori that he knew he and his crew would have to do everything they possibly could to help it survive. From his current perspective, survival looked like a longshot. These people from an emerging world were in the midst of a battle that defied management, a battle that would have defied belief had he not been seeing it with his own eyes.
And according to Krys, this enormous battle was just a decoy for the main Chessori thrust against Earth.
He described what he saw to Krys. She stood with her hands on the back of a crew seat, but she did not face the battle in front of them. She was angled slightly to the right. When he finished his briefing, she raised her arm straight ahead of herself. “Our target is there. Do you see it?”
“I think you’re pointing to the far side of the system, on the other side of their sun,” Stven said. “There’s no one there.”
“I see a group of thirty Chessori traders. They’re headed for Earth. Their beacons must be off.”
“My Lady, we are not going to take on thirty Chessori.”
“No, we are not. We have another purpose. Find me someone in command.”
Stven tried, but he could not get through on the tight beam to anyone. “George,” he said to his AI, “give me general broadcast.”
“Established, Captain.”
“Activate our beacon,” he ordered George. Over the radio, he announced, “Resolve calling. Whoever is in charge, respond via tightbeam.” His transmission went out to every ship in the system. The tight beam communicator signaled three incoming calls. It could only accept one at a time, and George activated one at random.
“Krys, is that you?” Admiral Buskin asked.
“It is,” Krys answered. “Where are you?”
“I’m in a ship orbiting the planet. I’m afraid I’m not much help here against the scree.”
“No, none of us is,” she answered. “The main Chessori force is a decoy. There is a small group of Chessori traders coming in from the other side of the system. Do you see them?”
He blanched and turned to his staff. When he turned back to her, he said, “No.”
“My eyes are blind, but my mind is not. They approach without beacons, Admiral. I see them.”
Buskin starred long and hard at her. “How is it you are blind?”
“A consequence of scree.” Her blind eyes stared into the pickup wishing she could see this great man who had become her friend. “My skills have improved, Admiral. I see the enemy clearly. I can lead you to them. If I can get you close enough, your own sensors will see them.”
“And place you in range of the scree, as well,” he said grimly. “There might be an alternative. Give me a few hours, My Lady. Do nothing until I get back to you.”
She nodded. “Clearly, time is of the essence.”
He signed off and contacted Admiral Jons. A fighting man, Jons had led the squadron that saved Mike and Ellie at Gamma VI. His procurement skills had so impressed everyone that he had been forced into the job of senior procurement officer for the Queen’s forces. Jons had been working closely with Serge Parsons and his engineers for two years now. His latest projects were focused on developing manufacturing facilities on Earth.
When Jons answered the call, Buskin did not waste words. “What is the status of your space tug project?”
Jons wrinkled his nose. “We just finished converting the first one. We haven’t begun testing yet, so it’s not operational.”
“Do you have a crew?”
Jons scowled. “Terrans only. None of our guys would even consider going out in an unarmed, unshielded ship. Certainly not with that horde approaching.”
“Well, someone has to. Lady Krys is here. She claims the main force of Chessori is a diversion. Thirty Chessori traders are headed this way from the other side of the system. Their beacons are off. She’ll take us to them if necessary, but it might kill her. The scree causes her physical damage.”
Jon’s lips firmed. “I’ll have the tug ready in an hour. We’ll know within a couple of hours if it works. It is completely untested. You’ll have to provide protection.”
“I will. Step on it, my friend.”
The name space tug conjured visions of an ungainly but powerful workhorse. The reality couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Jons’ space tug was half a mile long. From above, it looked like a teardrop, but from the side it looked like a scimitar. Long and sleek, it had never tugged ships in space. It had either swallowed them or attached itself to them. It carried enormous quantities of spare parts within its hull, and it even had small scale manufacturing capabilities for making repairs.
This particular tug had been modified. All means of protection had been removed, replaced by sensitive detectors and instrumentation that could not function through shields. Numerous tight beam communicators had been installed as well. Mike’s plan had called for listening posts scattered throughout Earth’s system, but Serge Parsons had taken it a step farther. He envisioned ships of this type traveling with fleets and becoming command centers.
Well, Jons mused, the time had come. He boarded a fighter at Area 51, one of his first modification centers on Earth, and raced to California. The trip in broad daylight would add to world tensions, of that he was certain, but he had no choice. Today, Earth’s survival rested in the balance. He could not wait for darkness to hide his approach.
His would not be the first recent report of a flying saucer. Beginning two weeks earlier, Buskins’ ships had been springing from hiding all over the planet, and Admiral Godfries, the Terran commander, had not concerned himself with waiting for darkness. World leaders were aghast, and fear dominated global headlines. Governments were doing their best to quell the fears without admitting prior knowledge, but it was a losing effort.
That was not Buskin’s concern. For the next few weeks, his fleet had only one purpose: to save Earth.
It was a typical sunny day at Moffett Field, an old NASA airport on the south shore of San Francisco Bay. Jons brought the UFO-shaped fighter right up to the new hangar housing the modified tug and hit the ground running. The tug’s Terran crew was alread
y living aboard. He gave them a quick briefing, then it was time to go. His eyes gleamed at the thought of going into action once again. It almost made it worth going into space in an unprotected ship.
The space tug had slipped into its hiding place in the deep of night six months earlier and had never been seen by locals, but today that changed. Giant hangar doors began sliding open. Traffic along the 101 Freeway slowed, then came to a halt as the nose of the ship edged into view, its broad surface gleaming in the bright sunlight. Ten lanes of traffic became twenty as cars edged their way closer. Drivers abandoned their vehicles to stare with open mouths.
More of the ship emerged, then more. To the spectators, it seemed like it would never end. But it did. The immense craft cleared the hangar and lifted into the air, banking to its right as it crossed the freeway. It threaded its way between aircraft landing at the San Jose and San Francisco Airports, but once clear, it nosed up and whooshed silently upward, gone in the blink of an eye.
Jons, in the net with the Terran crew, felt their unease. The departure of this ship would be another major item of world news, and the world was already reeling from reports of flying saucers. But they understood the stakes: Earth was even less ready for an alien invasion, an invasion that would likely wipe all life from the face of the planet.
They reached space, and Captain Lieu Ming turned the ship over to a pilot. Her concern was no longer the ship, it was the ship’s mission.
Her crew was just completing a power-up checklist on the multitude of systems. “Anything yet?” she asked her chief scientist.
“You know better than that,” Shun Tai responded. “We’re still too close to Earth. If I open the gates this close in, I’ll overwhelm the sensors. I need at least an hour.”
Lieu opened a tightbeam to Resolve, and Admiral Jons joined her. When Stven answered, she gasped. Never before had she imagined meeting a real dragon, let alone the beautiful, purple creature staring at her from within his own net.
“Who are you?” she asked in wonder.
“Captain Stven at your service,” he replied, his lips lifting into a smile. She focused more on the teeth those lips revealed. Stven winked at Jons whom he had met on Parsons’ World, but he also understood the unease of this woman from an emerging world. “May I ask who you are?” he said, directing his question to her.
“Captain Lieu Ming. I am in command of an experimental ship. I understand the mission, but I hope you understand that this ship is untested.”
A small puff escaped from one of Stven’s nostrils. “I did not know,” he said, directing his gaze to Jons.
“We’re pretty confident, Captain,” Jons responded. “The sensors are extremely sensitive. We’ll need more distance from Earth before we activate them. Can you give me a general location?”
“Only general directions. Your target is, as near as I can determine, directly opposite the main Chessori fleet but on the far side of the sun. Are you a fast ship?”
“We are. And we have the latest beacon capabilities.”
“Then transit times are inconsequential. Do not approach them. Our attack must remain a surprise.”
Captain Lieu issued orders to her pilot who set an approximate course, but he had to delay his first jump until all the talking was done. There was no way to communicate with ships during jumps.
Stven completed his briefing. “Admiral Trexler will send 30 fast frigates, one for each target, as soon as you give him coordinates. They should make quick work of the traders.”
“It will have to be quick. You understand their purpose here?” Jons asked.
“One of us knows their purpose here, sir. The attack will be in the form of thousands of canisters released from these ships. Those canisters will not have beacons or drive signatures, and they will be extremely difficult to find once released. I do not know what they contain, but does it matter?”
“It does not.”
Captain Lieu began a series of short jumps, then the scientists aboard the tug began activating sensors. With the information Stven had provided, they knew approximately where to look. Jons gasped when the information appeared on the net. The drive signatures of thirty Chessori traders were as clear to him as the beacons of the ships engulfed in battle. The detectors were so sensitive that he could count individual signatures of ships’ drives, not just see an area of targets. Serge Parsons had done well.
He turned to Captain Lieu who returned a grim but triumphant look. “Oh, you’ve done well, sir. This is a gift, a timely gift. Your work might have saved our home.”
He shook his head. “I’ve been up against the Chessori before. We’re not done saving your home yet. These Chessori are smart, and they’re cagey. Finding them is just the first step. The rest is up to Trexler.”
Jons sent the tightbeam feed to Trexler, reminding him that the data was hours old by the time the drive signatures traveled all the way from the ships to the sensors, so the Chessori were not exactly where they appeared to be. The AI’s could calculate the shift, and as the tug’s sensors got closer to the Chessori, the positions would become more real.
Trexler pulled 30 fast frigates from the conflict. They turned their beacons off, joined up with his cruiser, then turned toward the Chessori traders.
Jons led, sending updates periodically. Resolve, too, approached the battle with the beacon silenced. When Trexler discovered Resolve’s position from the feed sent from Jons, he called Stven.
“What are you doing here?”
“Orders from Lady Krys, sir. Just a moment.” He shifted the pickup to Krys. George was still unable to connect her to the net.
“Wait until I’m in position,” she ordered. “Do not attack until then. Understood?”
“No, My Lady, I do not.”
“Then I must ask for your trust, Admiral. Close the gap, but do not let them know you are there until I give you the word.”
Trexler stared grimly at the image of this tall sprite of a woman. What would the cost of his trust be to Earth? He cut the connection without a reply.
She issued orders to Stven. “I want you as close to the leading edge of the traders as you can get without being detected.”
“My Lady, you do not have a Rider. I can’t let you come under the influence of the scree.”
“It won’t be for very long, but we must be between them and Earth.”
M’Sada fast-shipped to the traders, then matched trajectories out in front of them. “We’re in position, Krys.”
“Notify Admiral Trexler to commence his attack. George,” she announced to the AI, “do you understand what’s going on?”
“I do, My Lady.”
“The trajectories of the canisters will be fixed once they leave their ships. Am I correct?”
“If they do not have drives, yes.”
“You need to plot as many of those trajectories as you can, all of them if possible, just as soon as they leave the ships. Once the trajectories are known, the canisters have to be destroyed. Can you do it?”
“I don’t know, My Lady. I will do my best.”
“No, George. In this case do as we do: give it all that you are. Find every one of them. Earth is depending on you. So, too, is the Empire.”
Stven started to clarify her instructions to George, but just then Trexler’s ships dropped into the midst of the Chessori traders and the shooting started. The scree sounded, canisters began streaming from the traders, then all the screens on the bridge went blank. The net died with them.
Captain Tom O’Brien, Resolve’s Terran pilot, and Major Terry Washburn, Krys’ senior Terran Protector, removed their helmets and looked around in confusion. Washburn saw Stven and M’Sada writhing on the floor and stunned them to ease their pain, then turned the stunner on Krys. An eerie silence descended upon the bridge.
Aboard the tug, Admiral Jons instantly collapsed at the first sounding of the scree. Captain Lieu studied her screens and saw the canisters. She screamed at her crew, “Record everything! Shun Tai, ca
n you track the canisters?”
“I’m recording. This is bad. There are too many. Once they leave the ship, they are on fixed trajectories. I can’t see them, but I will be able to predict their positions mathematically.”
“Are they headed toward Earth?”
“They are.”
“Can you direct our ships to them?”
“I can give them general directions, but they won’t be able to see them. The canisters have no beacons and no drive signatures. Everything will have to be computed mathematically. We never anticipated needing radar, Captain. I don’t think we will be able to help.”
Captain Lieu had been having a good day – no, she had been having a great day. Her wonderful ship had proven itself. Now, all of a sudden she wondered if she would have a home to return to.
Aboard Resolve, the scree lasted only minutes. Stven and M’Sada recovered fairly quickly, and Krys was not far behind them. She had a headache, but she did not seem to be any worse for the experience.
She spoke into the silence. “What’s going on, gentlemen?”
O’Brien answered her. “We have no idea. I wish you had worded your instructions a little differently, Krys. George has taken you literally. He’s giving it everything that he is. He’s cut us off. This ship is entirely under the control of George right now.”
A hand went to her throat. “The net is dead?”
“And all the screens. We’re completely blind.”
* * * * *
As usual, everyone had forgotten about Commander Akurea Skvechavka’a, a leader of the underground on Grnlee who had helped steal the Chessori hypercom plans. She came into the bridge to discover everyone just hanging about. All the screens were dead. “What’s going on?” she asked. “My computer shut down, the central shaft is not working, and the only lighting is emergency lights.”
“George is pretty busy right now, Ma’am,” Stven answered. “He’s apparently shut down all unnecessary systems.”
Voice of the Chosen (Spirit of Empire, Book Three) Page 2