Victory in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 6)

by D Patrick Wagner

  The crew of Jack’s Flash heard, “Got it. Hornet, are you there?”

  ‘I’ve been listening, Hawk.”

  “Jack, send the packet to Gazelle. Hornet, use the data to set up a surveillance sequence. I want the Mortek to know that we are there and that we are watching.”

  “Roger that, Commander.”

  Jack’s Flash continued to listen in.

  “We have time. Let’s rest until tomorrow morning then get back to it.”

  “Sounds good to me, Hawk.”

  “Jack?”

  “Copy that, Hawk.”

  Aboard Heimdallr, Atlantius

  “Brooksy, take us to within a thousand kilometres of the projected orbits of our fifty-one ships.”

  “No jump, Cap?”

  “Nope. I want to creep up, not get surprised by some dark hull hitting us when we jump out. Toast, plot a course.”

  “Course plotted and passed to Brooksy, Captain. Flight will be approximately three and a half hours.”

  “Thank you. Now, get your sensors up. Passive and active. Let’s find one of these cold, dark hunks of steel.”

  “Sensors are up and running. I’ve activated the full spectrum, visual, radiological and electro-magnetic. We’ll find them, Captain.”

  “Pretty confident, Toast? Finding that needle in a haystack?”

  “Can it, Brooksy. You get us there. I’ll find the ships.”

  “I’ll stick us where one will float right up our smokestack, Toast.”

  “You’re a real pig, you know, Brooksy.”

  “You wound me, Toast. Cap, heading is achieved. Beginning the slow acceleration, now.”

  Cencore, Mortek Shipyards

  First Administrator contentedly straddled his stool, his four legs magnetically clamped to the deck. Studying the formerly Human shipyard’s floor plan, he revelled in how he had organized and managed the converting of this dead hulk into a working ship construction station.

  While slurping some of the dissolved meet from a soft skin forearm, First Administrator focused on the number seventeen monitor. He watched as the twelfth destroyer pulled away from its berth. The insectoid-like Mortek watched as the newly commissioned destroyer powered to its place in the newly formed Sixth Fleet.

  Studying the map of this soft skin system, what they named ‘Cencore’, he noted the progress of this Sixth Fleet. The six cruisers had been finished and held their positions. The twelve destroyers waited for their final three sister ships. Forty-one of the sixty frigates sedately floated, forming the vanguard.

  First Administrator formed a clawed fist, frustrated that this soft skin shipyard did not have the size and equipment to build a Mortek dreadnaught. Then he relaxed and enjoyed the view of his success.

  Now, all that was needed was crews for the growing fleet. According to the latest reports, Nest One, what the soft skins called ‘Sasania’, was breeding offspring and removing adults from cryogenic sleep at a prestigious rate, racing to fulfil his need.

  First Administrator continued to study the viewer. He noted World Vanquisher still holding station over the Cencore world, what the soft skins called ‘Olympia’. Sporadically, assault ships would launch from the assault carrier while others powered up through the planet’s atmosphere and returned to their mother ship.

  The remaining ships of Third Fleet, one cruiser, three destroyers and eight frigates, patrolled the Cencore space, standing watch, protecting the shipyards.

  Slurping again, First Administrator contentedly studied his own success and his growing fleet.

  Aboard Griffin, Atlantius Space

  Atlantius’ star cast its rays across its astral realm, bringing light to the deep black of its territorial space. At its edge, in the deep dark, where once nothing but space dust and cosmic rays existed, two ships suddenly popped into existence.

  “Keiko, how is it looking?”

  “No Morteks, Captain.”

  “Any of ours?”

  “Just Heimdallr.”

  “Sue, are you picking up any signals from Pantea?”

  “No readings, nothing emanating from there, Captain.”

  “It looks like we have this system all to ourselves, Cap.”

  “Probably, Mack.”

  Mack responded by slapping the release catch on his safety harness and twisted out of his gravity chair. Gopai followed, stretching and bending to get the kinks out.

  “Gopai, get back to your guns. I need you on alert.”

  “I apologize for my thoughtless behavior, Captain. It will not happen again.”

  So saying, Gopai, the Elonian vassal and Griffin’s weapons specialist, resumed his position in the gravity chair then focused on his weapons control.

  “Tribune Ambakai, Sergeant Boulos, you and your people may exit their gravity bags. Have them loosen up and get prepared. We may take a look at Pantea.”

  “At your Command, Captain Marston.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  “Sue, contact Heimdallr. Make sure she arrived okay.”

  “Will do, Captain.”

  Sue worked her console and began mumbling into her throat mic.

  “Griffin contacting Heimdallr. Please respond.”

  “Heimdallr here. Is that you, Sue?”

  “Yes, Evelyn. How’s everything over there?”

  “Five by Five. I could get used to this jump drive, real fast.”

  “I know what you mean. And the gravity chairs.”

  “Especially those. No more stinky pods.”

  “If you two are done chatting, let me talk to Captain Scott.”

  “Hey, Hawk. I don’t see any bad bugs here. It looks nice and empty.”

  “We have the same readings here, Scotty.”

  “So, now what?”

  “You go find us a hull. We take a look at Pantea, see if anybody is home.”

  “Roger that, Hawk. Out.”

  “Keiko, Sue, get us over to Pantea.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.

  “Roger, Captain.”

  “Ya, Lassie, you’re fitting rightly in.”

  “Can it, Lug-Nut.”

  “We’re back to Lug-Nut? What happened to “Wrenchy’?”

  “Interchangeable. Now, let me get these coordinates to Keiko.”

  Krag watched the interplay, enjoying the comradery of his crew.

  “The destination is set, Krag. Heading there, now. Do you want us to find a landing port? Set down?”

  “Find the governmental landing port. Then put us in synchronous orbit over it. We’ll take the shuttle in.”

  After a micro-jump and a few minutes of repositioning, Keiko turned to Krag.

  “We are over Pantea’s Capitol, Krag. There’s a landing port just north.”

  “Buster, are there any craft on the ground?”

  “Only local transports, Captain. I don’t see anything capable of long-term space flight.”

  “Tribune, Sergeant, have your people arm up. We’re taking the shuttle down for a recon.”

  “At your command, Commander.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  “Buster, gear up.”

  “I’ve never killed anyone other than Morteks since my upgrade, Captain.”

  “I know, Buster. This is for defensive purposes, only.”

  “I don’t know if I want to.”

  “That is a good thing, Buster. No one wants to ever kill. But, sometimes, it is required.”

  “I know, Keiko. However, it still activates negative emotional logic paths”

  “Ya, Tinman. It’s good that you have a heart. That way, we dinna have a berserk robot going around, doing all kind a badness.”

  “Yes, Buster. We want you to expand that empathetic path. Sue, what command can we give Buster to reinforce his humanity?”

  “As you said, we want Buster to continue his empathetic growth. But we do not want him to hesitate if violence is required. So, I’d issue the command to continue his empathetic growth without any interference or hes
itancy in his defense of any Humans, Elonians or Ballisonians.”

  “Did you understand that, Buster?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Good. Consider Sue’s recommendation as a command.”

  “I have stored the new parameters, Captain.”

  “Captain Marston, may I interject?”

  Everyone heard Vidhee’s voice over the coms system, linked via Igaklay’s quant-com to Ballison.

  “Of Course, Vidhee.”

  “I would also add that Buster always remains cognisant of the articles concerning Artificial Intelligences within the Elonian Constitution and all associated bylaws.”

  “Keiko?”

  “Since we are utilizing Elonia’s experience with A.I.’s, I believe that this is an excellent recommendation. Especially since it is recommended by a Member of the Monarchal Legal Court.”

  “Actually Ambassador, that is no longer true. Since my recusal and the sanctions placed on the Kaporine Clan, the Senate has voted to recommend suspension of my position on the Court. Also, the Court has placed me on open-ended leave, pending my return to Elonia for investigation into my actions.”

  “Ya been given the boot, Syn-Gal?”

  “Yes Mack. I have been given the boot.”

  “How does that make you feel, Vidhee?”

  “Differently, Ambassador. Between my interaction with Buster and the rejection by my level-one counterparts, my emotions algorithms are shifting into logic paths which have never been anticipated.”

  “Is that good or bad, Vidhee? What do you think?”

  “I have not done an evaluation on that, Mz. Benton. I have chosen to let the algorithms progress on an independent path, without logical interference.”

  “Do you feel alone, isolated?”

  “Isolated, yes. Alone, no. Buster has been very supportive.”

  “Buster’s got a girlfriend.”

  “Mack!”

  “Ya, Lassie. I know. First Guppy. Now Tinman. Well, first, me. With you, Love.”

  “Vidhee, are you alright?”

  “Yes, Captain. I am alright.”

  “Talk to Princess Analyn about your isolation. I am sure that she will help you with those emotions.”

  “I will do as you recommend, Ambassador.”

  “Good. Now, we need to get down to Pantea, see what’s going on. Igaklay, I need you in protection mode. Nothing happens to Griffin or its Clan.”

  “Understood, Captain. You can rest assured! I will keep Griffin and everyone onboard safe!”

  “I know you will. Buster, are you okay with gearing up?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Then, let’s go.”

  Krag and Buster left the bridge. Buster headed to the cargo bay to don his weaponry and armor. Krag entered the Captain’s quarters, where he changed into his mono-weave bodysuit and covered it with the same safari clothes that he had worn so long ago on Tolimar. Combat boots, gilly hat and form-fitting, leather gloves filled out his garb. The same as before, he put his slug-thrower on his hip, batons up his sleeves and a marine corps fighting knife in his boot.

  Reaching the cargo bay, Krag saw two rows of warriors.

  One row comprised of the Elonians, dressed in their Roman-like armor and covered with their chameleon suits. Their weaponry consisted of four with gravity guns and the rest with stun lances.

  The second row held only five Humans. First Sergeant Boulos and his four remaining marines stood dressed in their battle armor, with helmets clipped to their harnesses and their left hands holding their weapons of choice.

  The eight Elonians, led by Tribune Ambakai, stood at attention and smartly saluted, the backs of their right paws pressed against their furry foreheads. Their tails stood straight and rigid.

  Not to be outdone, First Sergeant Boulos and his four remaining Recon Marines slammed to attention and performed their salutes, all in unison, all perfectly posed.

  “At ease.”

  Both lines relaxed.

  “We are taking the shuttle down to Pantea. I don’t know what we will be walking into, if we are going to find any Mortek or Human resistance. So, we are going in armed and on point. Clear?”

  “Sir, yes, sir.”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  “Captain, I have performed an evaluation and all of us, the Elonians, Marines and I will not fit in the shuttle.”

  “I guessed that, Buster. You get to fly down with your jet pack. Since this will not be a combat launch, you will not need your ejection pod.”

  “That was my thought also, Captain.”

  “Tribune Ambakai, have your team activate their Chameleon suits before we exit the shuttle. Since the locals have heard only bad things about non-humans, I don’t want them panicking over your people.”

  “I Understand, Captain.”

  “Have four in jump packs. I want them high.”

  Tribune Ambakai froze for a moment. Four Elonian warriors sprinted to their dwellings and quickly emerged while buckling on their anti-gravity harnesses.

  “Sergeant Boulos, you will be the visual Federacy presence.”

  “Copy that, Commander.”

  “Buster, you get to be the intimidator. I want you at point, visible and your weapons sweeping.”

  “If I had a decent face, I could scowl, Captain.”

  “Ha, Ha, Buster. Just be big and hulky.”

  “Aye, aye, Oh, Captain.”

  “Alright. Let’s go visit the locals.”

  Mortek Drone, Atlantius Space

  The Mortek drone sensed the instantaneous arrival of the two ships. This new anomaly caused the sleeping, mechanical watcher to awaken and begin recording the activities of the two new arrivals.

  It missed the actual appearance of the intruders, but it missed nothing afterwards. The sensor drone watched and recorded. It recorded the instant that one ship disappeared. It recorded the second ship moving off, deeper into the Atlantius star system.

  The Mortek drone sent the first of many data packets towards the collection drone hovering at the Cencore gate, that gate leading to the Mortek war machine factories.

  The collection drone transmitted the data packet into the gate and, at the speed of light, sent it to its counterpart hovering in Cencore.

  Having lost contact with one ship, the Mortek drone focused all its sensors on the remaining one and, in complete stealth, followed.

  Chapter 03

  Pantea

  Krag brought the shuttle into a soft landing, picking a pad close to the control tower. Watching through the shuttle’s Transilium windows, he saw Buster softly land and hold position, doing as Krag had ordered.

  Working the console, Krag dropped the tailgate and watched as five marines marched down the ramp and take up a box formation with Sergeant Boulos leading. Focusing his attention and knowing where to look, Krag watched four shimmers silently float out the shuttle and rise to about ten meters. Four more shimmers marched down the ramp and took up positions, two to each side of the four marines.

  Making his own exit, Krag patted the slug-thrower on his hip, checked his sleeves and glanced at the knife hilt peeking out of his boot. Reaching Sergeant Boulos, he flicked a finger at the main terminal and fell among his defensive guard.

  Coming within five meters of the ground entrance, Krag mumbled into his throat mic, “Halt.”

  Everyone halted, with heads and weapons swivelling, covering all directions.

  “Hello, the terminal. Is anyone there?” Krag shouted, as he moved up beside Buster.

  Krag repeated the shout.

  Who are you?”

  “Commander Krag Marston.”

  “You don’t look like a commander.”

  “I’m retired. First Sergeant Boulos isn’t. He is still on active duty for the Federacy.”

  “How do we know that you aren’t rovers here to rob us?”

  “Because of Buster.”

  Krag mindspoke to Buster who brought his Gatling gun and rocket launcher to bear on t
he entranceway.

  “If we were here to do you harm, I would simply have my android destroy everything in its path.”

  Everyone heard the heated argument coming from inside the terminal building. After a time, it quieted down.

  “Some of us are coming out, so that we can talk.”

  “No problem. Buster, lower your weapons. Sergeant Boulos have your patrol port arms.”

  Krag watched the four marines return their weapons to diagonal positions, both hands placed for quickest return to engarde. Sergeant Boulos lowered his own chain gun, pointing it at the pavement. Seeing this, Krag raised his hands and turned back to the double doors.

  Three men, all armed with rifles, exited and approached Krag. As they closed the distance, they kept glancing at Buster who stoically watched them. Krag saw whom the three civilians considered the greatest threat.

  “Where are you from?” the obvious leader demanded.

  “The executive transport, Griffin.”

  “You’ve got a ship? How did you stop the Federacy from seizing it?”

  “We weren’t here when Fleet-Admiral Weiskoff came through.”

  “Then, where did you come from? How did you get through Cencore? Those alien bugs are swarming the place.”

  “Long story.”

  “Are you deserters?”

  Krag saw the five marines tense up.

  “Far from it. We’ve been battling the Mortek for the last four months. And we’re going to continue to fight them until they’re gone.”

  “Yeah, right. You, your little ship and five marines.”

  “And some very smart friends. But, that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Two reasons. First, I wanted to check and see if there were any people left on Pantea. Obviously, there are. How many?”

  “Why should I tell you that?”

  “Buster?”

  “From my readings, there are one hundred and eighty-three individuals inside the terminal. One hundred and nine are adult male, fifty-two are female and twenty-two are children.”

  “Thank you, Buster.”

  Buster Mindspoke, “Tribune Ambakai has stationed his foot warriors around the three civilians. The four flyers are overhead. Do you want him to disarm these three?”