by Max Dane
“I’ll tell you what I know, if you agree to come to the turtle migration tonight, deal?”
“Yes!” He said, excited to finally hear some real news.
She took a deep breath, waiting as if still considering the merit of their agreement. Just when he thought she was going to change her mind, she said, “Okay Finn, the way I hear it, the scourge has skipped New Brazil, Jonas’ World, and Levant, but the colonists at Jorund’s Hope were not so lucky.”
“Miko, Jorund’s Hope has more people than New Brazil. What are they going to do?”
“My dad says that there are too many people to evacuate with the usual disaster response. He says they are sending a lot of military ships to help transport the colonists.”
“Miko, I should be there; I can help!”
“Finn, you don’t have a ship right now,” she said shaking her head, “ this is why I didn’t want to tell you, right now you have to do the one thing you’re terrible at.”
“Wait?”
“Yes. Be patient and hope they get as many as they can.”
He slumped in his chair, obviously frustrated. “Have you heard anything about Julian?”
“No, as far as I know he was taken somewhere else when you and your crew arrived.”
“No one seems to know. I wish I could talk with him about the nanotech organisms. I still don’t understand where they came from.” He held up a journal from Layton’s ship, “This Dr. Barringer seems to have been a major player under Dr. Layton. His studies are why Layton was refusing to leave Madras. He was on to something, but I can’t seem to put it together.”
Miko stood up and squeezed his shoulder, “Don’t forget your promise. We’ll look for you around nine o’clock tonight.”
“Thank you, Miko,” he said smiling at her, “You’ve been a good friend to me, and I’ve only been a headache in return.”
“I’m used to it; my father is like that, too.”
Very lightly, she kissed his head and left.
Finn stood and walked across the empty floor to the windows. Outside he could see white sand beaches stretching far off into the distance. Beyond that, blue water with white crests rolled in to the people on the shore, behind him an office steward walked by. He turned quickly and stopped the young man.
“Excuse me, do you have any books on theoretical uses of nanotechnology?”
The Fomax System, Jorund’s Hope
Fleet Commander Greyson Bishop checked the ship roster again. Twenty-three ships had arrived, but it wasn’t nearly enough. The Vice Admiral had promised fifty Fleet ships, but more than half were still en route and probably wouldn’t make it in time. The scourge was moving faster than anyone had guessed, and things were looking grim in the colonies below.
“Commander, get me the Disaster Relief Command.” From the bridge of the Exeter, Bishop could see the quarantine facilities being assembled, high over Jorund’s Hope. The new sensor configurations enabled them to see the scourge cloud over the planet, allowing them to work in relative safety as long as they stayed out of it. At least that’s what the current rhetoric said; he wasn’t so sure.
The image of the disaster relief, project-lead appeared on the screen. Stress and fear were obvious in the man’s face.
“Mr. Bosk, how long until the quarantine facilities are complete?”
“We need eight more hours. In the meantime, our transports are already bringing people up from the surface.”
“You should let us ferry the people up and concentrate all your resources on finishing the facilities. Every single person from down there will have to pass through them before being allowed onto an evacuation ship. You simply must move faster, Mr. Bosk.”
“We are on schedule, Bishop. I can’t move faster than we have people available, and where are the rest of the ships you promised?”
“They’re coming; unfortunately many of them are still on their way, and the scourge is not cooperating. The Fleet Port Authority down there says the power grid has become unstable, causing power failures across the planet. It seems, Mr. Bosk, that the process is accelerating.”
Bosk wiped his face, sweat and adrenaline coursing through him. He nodded, “I understand, sir, we’ll hurry.”
“Very good, Mr. Bosk. Keep me informed, Bishop out.”
In the background the jump point flared up again, a welcome sign, for each burst of photons meant another ship had arrived. “Sir, the Proteus has arrived with two support ships in tow.”
“Very good, Commander; advise them to adjust their sensors and stay out of the cloud. Then have them join the ships on the system-inward side of the planet. We need more help ferrying the people up.” The commander nodded and began issuing orders to the newly arrived ships.
Bishop walked to the navigator station, “Lieutenant Peyton, isn’t there another jump point in this system?”
“Yes, sir, but it doesn’t lead anywhere useful. The other side terminates in a system with no habitable planets, only the star Columba, along with four gas giants.”
“Yes, but if we needed to, we could use that jump as a quarantine to prepare another rescue facility on the other side. As far as we know, the scourge cannot pass through a jump.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bishop frowned and shook his head as he returned to his seat. Bosk was right. They were moving as fast as they could. It just wasn’t enough. With only a fraction of the ships he’d requested present, and the civilian relief force working around the clock, it would be a miracle if they saved even half the people at Jorund’s Hope.
Tense hours passed while the quarantine facilities were assembled. Another eight Fleet ships had arrived, bringing their total to thirty-three now. Tiny support vessels flew in and around the big capital ships like gnats, ferrying support personnel and medical crews to collection points. The numbers of civilians being ferried to the quarantine facilities in orbit were finally beginning to rise, and the ‘clean’ evacuees were filling up carriers preparing to leave the system.
“Sir, Mr. Bosk is asking for you.”
“Go ahead, Mr. Owen, put him through.”
“Commander Bishop, we’re done; the quarantine facilities are completed and filling to capacity right now. I can’t say how many we’ll be able to rescue, but with your help we seem to be evacuating a good portion.”
“I agree, Mr. Bosk, our ships are bringing them up as fast as they can. And we are not waiting for your carriers to fill; we are bringing the clean-side colonists to our ships as well. Basically, once they have passed your quarantine, they are being received on any available ship in our fleet. This way we’ll save time and speed up the evacuation.”
“Thank you, Sir, your help has saved millions of lives.”
As they spoke Bishop noticed a tiny flash of light at the second jump point. “Mr. Bosk, are you employing the secondary jump in this system?”
“No, sir, we are sticking to the plan.”
“Lieutenant Peyton, did you see that?”
“Yes, Sir, sensors indicate several ships collecting around the far jump point.”
“More ships? We can use the help; it just seems odd because I thought the jumps came to a dead-end that way. Where could they be coming from?”
As they watched, the far jump point flared again and again repeatedly.
“Lieutenant, hail those ships. We need to get them working over here right away.”
Bishop returned to Bosk, “Good work, Mr. Bosk, I’ll contact you again shortly. Bishop out.”
This was very odd. The hairs on his neck beginning to rise, Bishop could feel a sense of alarm swelling inside. “Lieutenant, who’s in command of those ships?”
“I don’t know, sir; they aren’t answering our hails.”
“Get me the Proteus.”
A moment later the captain of the Proteus answered, “Yes, Fleet Commander Bishop, I’m here.”
“Captain Ryder, do you know anything about the ships forming up at the far jump?”
“No, sir
, I was thinking they belonged to you?”
“They’re not part of my operation; stay alert, Captain.”
“Sir, we have an incoming transmission.”
“It’s about time Lieutenant; let’s hear it.”
“ATTENTION, MILITARY VESSELS OF THE LEAGUE OF WORLDS.”
“ATTENTION, MILITARY VESSELS OF THE LEAGUE OF WORLDS.”
“We are here to take our rightful vengeance for the despicable and grievous destruction of our colonies. The horror you have inflicted in the annihilation of our worlds is unprecedented in scale, and will not go unpunished. The glorious Scion of the Red Star condemns you all to death. That is all.”
In the distance, waves of dissident ships came rushing forward.
“Lieutenant Peyton, how many ships do you show in that fleet?”
“Fifty-nine, no make that seventy. It’s hard to say, sir; they are launching fighters and there are still more coming through the jump.”
“Lieutenant, put me through to the fleet.”
Quickly, Bishop issued alerts and dispatched orders to arrange for a hardened front to defend the planet. His first officer, Manning, looked at the numbers on his screen and shook his head. “Sir, the Fleet ships are moving to battle stations, but with civilians everywhere it’s taking too much time. Hundreds of support ships are in the middle of docking with most of our capital ships right now.”
Bishop nodded, he already knew what it meant. The Fleet ships were effectively frozen in place until the support ships either landed or departed. It was the worst possible time for another dissident war. The damn fools didn’t understand that the scourge was responsible, not the League.
“We’ll never get our ships in position in time. Hail them again, Lieutenant; they think we attacked them, but it’s not true. Their enemy is the same as ours, and it’s down there on the planet right now. They have to listen.” Lieutenant Peyton continued to transmit the hail, but without response. Turning briefly to the captain, he shook his head before returning to his console.
Meanwhile, the first wave of dissident ships entered the rescue operation, their weapons leveling white-hot laser death on everything they could reach. Everywhere, military ships, rescue vessels, and even civilian shuttles erupted in blazing explosions. The space above the planet was littered with broken ships as the first wave of enemy fighters left to be followed by a second, and then a third. Bishop’s heart sank when he saw the quarantine facilities falling out of orbit, reduced to so much burning debris. No more colonists would be leaving that way.
“Lieutenant, get me Captain Ryder on the Proteus.”
Within seconds Ryder was on the screen. “We’re a little busy at the moment Commander, what do you need?”
“Captain, we are in imminent danger of losing this conflict. Those colonists in the fleet carriers must make it out. I want you to take half the fleet and cover them while they escape through the jump to Levant. Afterwards, take your ships to the far side and prepare a blockade of the jump. Your first priority is to get those colonists safely to Levant. Your second is to prevent any dissident ship from passing through. Do you understand, Captain Ryder?”
“Yes, sir, I understand; what are you planning to do, Greyson?”
“I will take the other half of the fleet and buy you the time you need, Captain. Good luck, Bishop out.”
Bishop turned to his first officer, “Mr. Manning, get me a firing solution on that big one, right in the middle. Prepare to launch our Cobalt missiles.”
“How many, Sir?”
Smiling a predatory grin, he said, “Fire them all. I’m betting their leader is in there; maybe we can break their resolve if we take him out. Also, get me a list of the ships that are coming with us. I want to see who we’ve got.”
Taking his seat at the command again he said, “Lieutenant, take us in.”
The Exeter, a Hercules class Fleet battleship towered over the waves of dissident ships around it. Every salvo of her main guns emptied the space of another several enemy targets. Bishop could see that the enemy was using laser weapons almost exclusively. It was the weapon of choice out on the fringe, because they didn’t have to buy or carry ammunition. He hadn’t seen anything resembling torpedoes, mines, or missiles so far. That was a good sign. The little ships surrounding the Exeter couldn’t hope to stop the ship with any single laser, but the combined effect of them was raising the temperature of the hull significantly. It wouldn’t be long before the ship's engines would overheat and then they’d be sitting ducks. He needed to get through now.
“How many dissident ships do you read now, Mr. Peyton?”
“Sir, they launched fighters at the beginning of the battle, giving us a total of one hundred and thirty targets. Now, combining capital ships and fighters, it looks like they’re down to roughly sixty-five active vessels.”
“We got that many?”
“No, sir, not exactly. I don’t know why, but some of them exploded just after coming through the jump, and several more appear to explode randomly, all on their own. Is it possible, sir, that their ships were already infected with the scourge, even before the battle began?”
“I’m betting on it.” He wiped his forehead; maybe they had a chance after all. Daring to hope, he turned back to Manning, “How much time until we get that command ship within range of our missiles?”
“Another seventy seconds, sir, and here’s the list of the ships with us.”
Bishop scanned the list looking for anyone he knew, “Get me Captain Morsey from the Kali on the line.”
Moments passed before a very young officer appeared on the screen. In the background someone was extinguishing a fire under a console, and the lighting appeared to be broken.
“Who are you, sir, I asked for Captain Morsey?”
“I know, sir, I’m the First Officer, Lieutenant Commander Jon Stevens. Captain Morsey was killed when a dissident ship rammed the Kali in the midship, sir.”
Bishop could read the level of fear the young man was holding back. Confidently, he smiled, “You’re doing just fine Commander Stevens. Here’s the plan; I intend to take out that big command ship in the middle of the enemy fleet. I need you and the rest of the ships following me to guard my flanks. Stay close, and keep me alive long enough to reach the target. Do you understand, Commander?”
“Y-Yes Sir, I read you.”
“Very well, Commander, now let’s go hunting. Bishop out.”
The ships behind the Exeter moved into position to the left and right. Targeting incoming waves of the smaller dissident attack ships, the small group of Fleet warships formed a cone behind the Exeter, defending it from incoming assaults. Together they increased speed, storming their way inside the enormous cloud of enemy warships.
“How many ships are with us, Mr. Manning?”
“Eight, sir, wait- make that seven. They’re taking heavy damage, Sir.”
“Keep us moving, Lieutenant. We must not stop. Are we in range yet?”
Behind them, another frigate fell under the enemy onslaught. Bishop winced, they were good men; they deserved better than this.
“They’re onto us, Sir, they’re turning.” He pointed at the screen, “The command ship is moving back and away from us now.”
Bishop grinned; it was too late for that. The enemy had already let them get too close.
“Almost there, in four, three, two, we have a target lock, all systems are go, Sir.”
“Fire! Mr. Peyton, fire!”
The ship rocked nose up, recoiling as the huge ship-busters were released. All through the Exeter, they could hear the loud ‘WHOOOSH’ of each missile as it launched. Bishop watched as they hurtled across the battlefield, ‘Those missiles are designed to bring down the biggest warships, or the most stubborn ground defense. If even a few of them make it through the enemy’s defenses, that ship will burn.’
Satisfied the big ship was doomed, Bishop moved to save the ships that were still following him. “Mr. Peyton, prepare to bring us around. We�
�re headed back, to make our stand at the planet. And, Mr. Manning, tell our escort that we- ”
Bishop was cut off abruptly, when suddenly the Exeter was struck broadside by numerous enemy fighters, simultaneously and along the whole length of the ship. Their small attack ships exploded on impact breaching the Exeter hull. In an instant he realized he’d underestimated the ‘berserker’ reaction that the death of their leader would incite. Relentless waves of fighters became maddened warriors bent on suicide. Yelling above the explosions and carnage, he said, “Lieutenant, damage report.” Peyton was unable to respond before the Exeter shuddered and broke in half, explosions from the core-drive systems sending burning debris flying out across the system.
In the distance, the dissident command ship was rocked by the impact of more than a dozen surviving, cobalt missiles. Finding their target, their combined explosive force obliterated the command ship and every fighter within two kilometers. As fragments of the great ship drifted away, venting plasma from burning engines, the dissident forces turned and began to retreat, regrouping by the jump point before returning home.
The space around Jorund’s Hope was a graveyard now, littered with dead ships, bodies, and mangled fragments belonging to the rescue mission. Much earlier, the last of the League ships had jumped away finding safety in the next star system. A quiet emptiness fell over the planet below, as the colony was silently and relentlessly, reduced to sand.
Chapter 7
“The courage of life is often a less dramatic spectacle than the courage of a final moment; but it is no less a magnificent mixture of triumph and tragedy.”
- John F. Kennedy