Cadets

by Edward Miller

  Paul smiled a warm and comforting smile. “Doctor Paul at your service.”

  For the first time, Amanda started to see what Ryan’s topsy-turvy mind was telling him. It was like a great mystery was unlocked.

  “You know I think I can still help him,” she said. “If he’ll let me.”

  “Amanda,” said Paul, “you can’t say anything to him about this. You guys are just starting to talk again. He may push you away even more if you try to corner him about it. Not to mention that if he finds out I told you, I’ll never hear the end of it. Promise me, not a word, Amanda.”

  She thought about it for a few seconds. “I promise,” she said.

  Paul looked like he wasn’t convinced.

  “You have my word, really. Anyway, let’s get back to work. After all, we do have a planet to save. It’s going to take hours to calibrate the light-speed accelerator.”

  Paul nodded. “I’ll work on the coils and you handle the reactor room.”

  “Works for me,” she said. Within minutes, she was inside the main reactor room, where the power to run the light-speed drive was generated. It was deep in the belly of the ship and had the most protection, as it was surrounded by four walls of heavy-duty armor.

  The reactor room was also the most dangerous part of the ship. In order for the vessel to obtain light speed, the reactor has to be working flawlessly. Combining matter and antimatter in such close proximity called for precise calculations and a finely calibrated reactor.

  Amanda was in the middle of adjusting the flow chambers when Paul walked in. She didn’t hear or see him. He slapped her on the back. “I brought you some coffee. How’s it coming along?” he asked.

  Startled, she screamed and dropped the sonic calibrator. She turned around and glared at him. “My God, don’t ever sneak up on me again like that or I’ll rip your freakin’ head off!” Then she caught herself and smiled. “Thanks for the coffee,” she said. “I could really use some.”

  “Schizophrenic much?” he said, laughing. “Relax. I almost spilled it. Here’s your coffee.”

  Taking the steaming cup from him, she eased up a bit. “I’m sorry, Paul. I guess I’m just spooked with all this stuff going on.”

  “No worries. Everyone’s jumpy. I just came from the bridge and you should see Ryan trying to deal with all the cadets. Plus he just got an update from your father. More news coming in about all those ships we lost today.”

  She was almost afraid to ask Paul what he’d heard. “Is his family all right?”

  “Yeah,” he answered. “They’re okay. But from what I heard, the fleet got their butts handed to them. It doesn’t look good.”

  “My God,” she said softly. “What are they planning to do?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess you heard they hightailed it back to the Mars orbital station. If they can’t figure out how stop the alien fleet from there, the aliens will be at Earth in a matter of days.”

  She couldn’t imagine what Ryan would do if he lost the rest of his family, and she didn’t want to think about it. “Did my father tell him what our next move is?” she asked.

  “Not really. Still the same as earlier today. We’re supposed to continue getting these old ships back into battle condition. But if you think about it, what chance would we have in these old buckets anyway? Hell, if the unshakable Flash Thompson and his fleet can’t stop them, we’re screwed. I mean, think about it,” he continued. “It would be like going to a laser fight with a butter knife.”

  Amanda thought hard about what Paul was saying. It was looking less and less promising by the minute, and time seemed to be closing in on them. One thing she knew, though, was that she wasn’t a quitter. She shot Paul a determined look. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to stick my head in the dirt and give up.”

  Truth be told, she wasn’t sure if she was talking more about getting the ships ready or about Ryan.

  Chapter 13

  Hit And Run Tactics

  Admiral Thompson looked at the thirty-four other captains in the room and studied their faces. Most of them hid their fear well, though a few looked agitated and some seemed to be outwardly frightened. Considering what had taken place in the last week, it was understandable that there would be some doubt and mixed emotions amongst the fleet. What bothered him the most, though, was the empty eighteen seats. He knew that they were all waiting for him to say something that would calm their fears. But he was never one for deceiving those under his command. He had always believed in telling it like it is.

  “I’d like to thank all of you for your courage yesterday,” he said. “We faced the unknown, and we faced it with strength and fortitude. Now we have to figure out a way to stop the Altarran fleet from reaching Earth.”

  He looked around the room at the fully attentive faces and continued.

  “I spoke with the officers at Research and Development. Unfortunately, they have very little to go on. They suggest we try to overload their force fields using a concentration of force approach, focusing our weapons on one ship at a time. With that in mind, what we’re going to do is combine that with tactics we’re calling hit and run. The fleet will be divided into four attack groups: three groups of nine ships and one group of eight. Captains Hartwell, Irons, Ratchet, and myself will lead the groups. We’ll coordinate the attacks from four different locations.”

  Thompson walked over to a large monitor on the wall where a simulation of the Altarran fleet was displayed. There was a circle around the picture with arrows pointed at four areas of attack.

  “We will attack from equal points of the circle. We’ll attack at 90 degrees, 180 degrees, 270 degrees, and 360 degrees. All of the attacks will be coordinated to take place simultaneously in an attempt to confuse the enemy. Any questions so far?”

  “Sir,” said a voice from the back of the room.

  “Captain Wilcox? Question?”

  “Admiral, I understand the combined attack on specific focus points. But how do we avoid being shot at by their other adjacent ships?”

  “That’s where the hit and run comes in,” said Thompson. “It’s vitally important that we fly in formation, get our shots off in unison, and scatter immediately, breaking formation and coming back to base. If we scatter widely enough it should confuse them. It’s a risk, and they may pick some of us off, but God willing, we’ll minimize damage and cause some of our own. More importantly, we have no other choice.”

  Thompson heard a few whispers, but everyone quickly quieted down.

  “Further questions?” he said.

  The room was silent. Satisfied that everyone was in agreement and understood the plan, Thompson looked at the officers in his command. He nearly choked up with a sense of awe and gratitude. Heroes, every last damn one of them.

  “All right then,” he continued. “We’ll attack when the Altarran fleet passes Jupiter. The planet’s gravitational pull should disrupt their radar. I’ll assign each group leader their attack point. We’ll leave in 24 hours. At the current speed and course of the Altarran fleet, they’ll just be passing Jupiter then.” Pausing, he looked at each commander and turned off the monitor. “Good luck to all of you. Dismissed.”

  The officers in the room all snapped to attention and saluted him. Bursting with pride, he returned the salute and made his way back to the bridge of his ship, where his officers, who must have sprinted in order to get there ahead of him, were already awaiting his orders.

  “Lieutenant Barnes, inform the squadrons that we’re ready to begin Operation Hit and Run,” Thompson ordered.

  “Aye, sir,” Barnes replied. “I’ll inform you as soon as I receive confirmation from all squad leaders.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant.” Turning to Romano, Thompson asked, “Have you coordinated course and speed to match the other attack groups?”

  “Affirmative,” said Romano. “Course set and locked in.”

  “Good,” said Thompson. “We’ll be the first to leave as we have the longest flight.
We’ll be going around the Altarran fleet and coming up on their six.”

  Thames came up alongside him. “I see you picked the longest and most dangerous path for us, Admiral.”

  Looking at his longtime friend, Thompson nodded. “Would you really expect me to take the easy way and have another commander take our path?”

  “No, Admiral,” said Thames. “In fact, I knew the minute you came up with this half-witted idea we’d be running the end around. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t. You’re almost as crazy as I am.”

  “Sir,” called out Barnes. “I have confirmation from all squad leaders. They are ready and waiting your orders, sir.”

  “Put me through to the fleet, Miss Barnes.”

  “Yes, sir. Placing you on fleet-wide com channel now, Admiral. You’re all set.”

  Thompson stood and gathered his thoughts. “Before we embark on this mission,” he said, “I want you all to know I appreciate—and am truly grateful for—your commitment, your character, and most of all, your courage. I’d be lying to you if I said we were certain this attack will work, and I think we all know there are risks involved. But I do know one thing. We are going to give them absolute hell. We’re going to throw the best we have to offer at them. And under no circumstances are we going to give up fighting. I know I don’t need to tell you what’s at stake here. We have friends, family, and about ten billion people back on Earth counting on us. Good luck, soldiers. I’m proud to be your Admiral. It’s an honor. Thompson out.”

  Barnes cut the transmission and looked into his eyes. “Well said, sir.”

  “Thank you, Miss Barnes. Open a channel to President Hawking.”

  The lieutenant’s hands moved effortlessly as she adjusted the frequency to contact Earth. “I have the president on the com.”

  “Mr. President, this is Fleet Admiral Thompson. We’re about to attack the Altarran fleet. Have you found out anything about their claims that their people were here in the past?”

  “No, Admiral. Nothing yet. There’s nothing in our current records of any such event. And you know as well as I do that many of the older records were destroyed. We do know that back in the 20th and 21st centuries there were a number of covert government agencies, but that’s about all we know. They could have been involved in anything, and I’m sure they were. We’re still researching all possibilities, but it isn’t looking good. You’ll have to do the best you can to stall them. Good luck, Admiral. If anyone can handle this, I know you can.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President. We’ll forward a report of our attack as soon as we return. If you don’t hear anything . . . well, you know what to do.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Admiral. God speed.” The transmission ended.

  Thompson looked at Thames. “Well he sure has confidence, though the news doesn’t sound very promising.”

  “No, Admiral, it certainly doesn’t. Though I must say I find it ironic, sir.”

  “Ironic ? How so?”

  “All those years we played with fire. Almost caused our own destruction. Finally, after coming within minutes of destroying ourselves, the world finally unites and forges a true peace. Then what does our government do? They destroy all files relating to collusion and covert operations. I guess they thought if no one knew, there would be less chance of it coming back to haunt them. Well it’s haunting them now, isn’t it, sir?”

  Despite the dire circumstances, Thompson couldn’t help laughing. “It sure is, Niles,” he said. “All in the name of preserving peace. Sweeping everything under the proverbial rug. Oh well, I guess they did what they thought was the right thing. Damn idiots.”

  “Admiral,” said Barnes. “We’ve received clearance from the station for departure.”

  “Thank you, Miss Barnes. Inform Mars orbital station that we’re ready for departure. Then tell the rest of our squadron to follow in order at five-second intervals.”

  “Aye, sir. Sending messages now, sir.” After a few seconds, Barnes had received the all clear. “We’re clear for departure. All ships have responded as well, sir.”

  “Understood,” said Thompson. He opened a com link to engineering. “Chief, I assume we have full power and are ready for departure?”

  “We are ready and able, Admiral,” replied Fowler. “You have full power.”

  “Thank you, Chief. Thank God for small favors.” Looking to his helmsman, he said, “Release docking clamps.”

  “Docking clamps released, sir.”

  The sound of the clamps breaking free could be heard throughout the ship. Normally, this familiar signal lifted the crew’s hearts, but this time the image of an executioner mounting a scaffold popped into Thompson’s head. For all he knew, these would be his last moments alive.

  “Prepare to fire port maneuvering thrusters,” he said, realizing that he had waited just a bit longer than usual to give the order.

  “Ready on your mark, sir,” replied Romano a little breathlessly.

  Thompson felt a little catch in his throat. He and his bridge crew had been together so long that they were able to anticipate his every move. At a time like this, that would really come in handy. If only they could get out of this alive. He took a breath.

  “Now,” he ordered. The massive ship pushed away from the station. “As soon as we reach a thousand-foot clearance, shut down port thrusters and fire aft thrusters.”

  Seconds later, Romano called out, “Shutting portside thrusters. Firing aft thrusters now, sir!”

  “As soon as we reach standard distance, prepare to fire light-speed thrusters,” Thompson ordered.

  A few minutes passed while the ship pulled away from the station. Romano looked at the admiral. “Sir, we are at the required distance. Preparing to engage light speed on your command.”

  Thompson leaned back. He always hated the feeling in his stomach when the ship first transitioned to light speed. “Now,” he ordered. The sound of the engines powering up echoed throughout the ship. There was a brief instant where time seemed to stand still. After all these years he still couldn’t get used to it. Then, without warning, he felt that forward motion where you lose all sense of balance or feeling. There was no time to think, let alone throw up.

  In the blink of an eye, everything was back to normal—or at least as normal as light-speed travel could be. The shift, though, was always the worst part.

  Thames looked at the admiral, laughing. “Still enjoy light-speed transitions, sir?”

  Thompson chuckled back and shook his head. “No,” he said. “I sure as hell don’t.” He checked the ship’s chronometer. “Two hours until we reach our point of attack.”

  Thames leaned closer to the admiral and whispered, “What’s your gut say about this situation? Propaganda aside, of course.”

  “Truthfully, Niles? We may get a few of them, but in the long run, if we don’t find a way to get through that force field of theirs, we’re in deep trouble. We’re going to need a Plan B at some point, assuming we make it that far. My hope is that this buys us some time. I just hope they don’t obliterate us all first.”

  “I concur with that, Admiral,” said Thames.

  The next couple of hours passed quickly. The crew kept busy running checks on all of their systems. Finally, Diego broke the increasingly tense silence.

  “Two minutes to contact, sir. All forward torpedo bays loaded with full spread. Lasers powered and ready.”

  “This is it, ladies and gentlemen,” said Thompson. He had a brief mental picture of a sheriff facing his arch enemy on a dusty street. Except this was high noon at 370 million miles. “Diego, hold fire for forty-five seconds. Target the closest ship to us as soon as we exit light speed.”

  Diego never took his eyes off his console. “Aye, sir. Forty-five seconds. Concentrate all fire on closest target,” he replied.

  Thompson could feel his heart beating as the countdown continued. Romano called out, “Twenty seconds to target.” Thompson ran the situa
tion over and over again in his mind. If they were lucky, each of the four squadrons would destroy one enemy ship, and all thirty-five UEDF vessels would escape unscathed. Then again, he had never been one to believe in luck.

  The sound of the Constitution’s engines straining as they were powered down from light speed to thrusters was deafening. The hull creaked as the mighty ship slowed. Thompson stood up and watched the eight other battleships from his unit coming up alongside each other. It took only thirty seconds for all eight ships to arrive, but it seemed like an eternity. Once his squadron was all in place, he gave the most important order of his life.

  “Mr. Diego, target the closest Altarran ship and commence firing. Empty all forward tubes and fire all laser cannons.”

  Diego had already set his targeting sensors to fire at the closest enemy ship, and he was armed and ready. “I have a targeting solution. Firing tubes one through four. Forward laser cannons locked on and firing, sir.”

  Thompson could feel the giant ship recoil like a snake about to attack its prey, as each torpedo bay launched four deadly torpedoes at the Altarran vessel.

  Barnes shouted from the communications station, “All ships reported firing full torpedo spreads, sir.”

  “We’re being targeted, Admiral,” said Thames from the sensor station. “Enemy fleet breaking formation. They’re firing weapons.”

  “Admiral,” shouted Barnes, “I have confirmation the other three squadrons have attacked as well. All of our ships are retreating and scattering as ordered, sir!”

  Thames let out a yell from the sensor station. “Direct hit, sir! It worked. Their ships is breaking up. Even their shields can’t take over a hundred direct hits and withstand it.”

  “Let’s get the hell out of here,” ordered Thompson.

  There was an enthusiastic cheer from the crew as they heard that they’d destroyed one of the Altarran ships.

  “Admiral,” said Diego, loud enough to cut through the cheers, “multiple torpedoes closing in on us.”

  “Evasive maneuvers, Romano. Pull her up. Full throttle.”