Meeting in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 3)
Page 22
“It will be done, My Lord.”
War sat back and watched in satisfaction as his armada re-arranged, preparing for the assault on the soft skin’s root system. He waited until all was ready. With four hundred attack craft spearheading his attack, the Mortek war leader turned to Intelligence.
“Anything new to report?”
“No, My Lord. The exit gate is heavily mined. Our last report, six Nest One cycles ago, remains the same. A soft skin force is still waiting behind its wall of mines.”
“Do you foresee any major obstacles?”
“None, My Lord. Just a greater volume of resistance. Other than an increase in loss of ships, I see nothing to stop us from taking the soft skin’s root system.”
“That is good to hear. Flight.”
“Yes, My Lord?”
“Launch the attack.”
Chapter 12
Onboard Griffin
The short, flight to Wisdom Seeker found griffin settling into the same, giant bay that had been her home during her previous stay. Four worried humans and three frazzled Elonians waited on the bridge for the ‘all clear’ and breathed sighs of relief. The ever-stoic Sir Mahajani continued to stand and watch
Princess Analyn’s slow burn towards her brother and Senator Sanjinan had never left and still displayed in her constantly twitching tail and flicking ears. Her furry brow had remained furrowed as she eyed daggers at nothing and everything, as she constantly paced the bridge.
“Rest up. We can’t plan without knowledge. I shall set up a conference with Father for as soon as possible. Tomorrow. First light. You will need to be there to explain your side of the disagreement.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“Not at all, Ambassador Suzume. Master Varrini, come with me.” Princess Analyn’s no-nonsense commands betrayed her seething anger.
“Vidhee, you are to remain on Griffin. She is still in danger.”
“Your wish, My Princess. I had already decided to ask for your permission to remain.”
“Gopai, stay. All of you, I do not know what I will be walking into when I leave your ship. So, I command that you all remain onboard until I summon you.”
“A wise decision. We will wait for your next missive. I will walk you to the exit, Your Highness.”
The Griffin crew watched as Keiko led Princess Analyn, her massive bodyguard and Master Varrini off the bridge.
“A growl? Really, Buster?”
“I thought it would add some flair, Mack. And it did scare the stuffing out of those Senatorial Guardsmen.”
“Me and Keiko, we watched it all from here. Got it all recorded. Multiple angles. Quite a show, Tinman. The bit with the net worked too.”
“Well, I didn’t like the idea of being a test dummy for that gravity gun. Especially when I saw what Gopai did to those asteroids.”
“We would’ve put you on the kitchen counter. Used you as a toaster.”
“Funny, Wrenchy.”
“I liked how Elonia’s star turned your armor all gold. Gave you a glow.”
“Added bonus, Sue. I heard one guardsman call me a ‘child of Bashia.”
“She is the Goddess of Light and Goodness, Legate, Buster.”
“Maybe that scared them, too.”
“Oh, most definitely.”
“Now what, Cap?
“Now we wait. Has Captain Kakkarna put up the gravity dome, Sue?”
“I just checked the viewers, Captain. No dome.”
“Well, that’s a good sign. Maybe we’ll get through this, after all.”
“Griffin is back to right. And we’ve got all the new Elonian upgrades.”
“Don’t forget about your new calibrator.”
“We haven’t, Iggy. That’s going to help us zip our way around and about.”
“And come to Ballison.”
“Yes, Igaklay. We’re still coming to Ballison. I promise. Let’s get some rest, get ready for tomorrow.”
Onboard Thor
The screaming alarm jerked Captain Russell from his sound sleep. Unzipping his bed, he Jumped out and grabbed his mag-grav liner as he began to float. Fighting to get it on, he finally righted himself and settled to the deck.
“Bridge, report.”
“Alien vessels breaking through, Captain.”
“Mr. Butler?”
“On the way, Captain. Less than a minute.”
“Mr. Morgan?”
“At position, Captain.”
“Contact the fleet. Go to stations.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
By now, Captain Russell succeeded in getting into his ship fatigues and took the short walk to the bridge.
“Status, Mr. Hill?”
“Patrol ships pouring through, Captain.”
“How many?”
“Hundreds, Sir.”
“What are they doing?”
“Dying, Sir.”
“Mines?”
“It’s taking multiple mines for each ship, Sir. But nothing is getting through.”
“Mr. Butler, Gunny. How is the first layer holding up?”
“Almost gone, Sir. A large hole punched through. Small one started in the second layer.”
“How many ships have we gotten?”
“Over one hundred, Sir. With the mines self-powered and controlled by a central processor, they swarm a ship and crack it. Takes about six to ten mines per ship.”
“Sizes?”
“Only one, Sir. Their patrol ships.”
“They’re using their patrol ships as cannon fodder. You’re telling me that our mines will be ineffective against their larger ships?”
“We should be able to get their Frigates, Captain. Maybe fifteen to twenty mines per. Anything larger, not so much.”
“Hold the X-bombs. We’ll clear out as much as we can with the conventional ordinance. Then the good stuff.”
“Copy that, Captain.”
Everyone not burdened with immediate tasks watched the viewing screens. Constant mini-novas of exploding ships peppered the forward views.
“How many, Mr. Hill?”
“Just approaching four hundred, Captain.”
“They certainly do not respect life,” Captain Russell said to no one in particular.
“Good for us, Sir. Less to kill.”
“There is that, XO. We should be seeing another wave shortly. Have all ships ready with their firing solutions.”
“I just checked, Captain. They have been at post the whole time.”
“Mr. Hill, how much of our mine field has been utilized?”
“All of levels one and two, Captain. Three, most of the center. Four, just beginning its counter-strike.”
“If the aliens stay true to form, the next wave should arrive shortly. Fingers on triggers, XO.”
“On target, Captain. Frigates are pushing through. Looks like they are setting a picket.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hill. XO, announce to our fleet, fire at will. Mr. Butler, light them up. X-cannons then missiles then kinetics. Odin gave us our recipe. Let’s use it.”
“Copy that, Captain.”
Twenty-seven destroyers, eleven Federacy cruisers and one Federacy dreadnaught fired off the first wave of X-cannons. Hundreds of missiles followed. Everyone waited.
“No kills, Captain. All alien frigates still under power. Some erratic, but still functional.”
“Missiles?”
“None got through.”
“Now we know what the coating was. XO, have the cruisers pair on single targets. Alternating fire, five second windows. Have the destroyers bunch in fives. Launch missiles only at unpowered ships.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
With trepidation, with the worry that the aliens had solved the x-cannon weapon, Captain Russell visually bored through the screen. He poured all of his intensity, his will, into believing that this next round would bring some results.
It did.
“Five dead in the water, Captain.”
“XO, missiles.”
Everyone watched slightly more than a hundred missiles streak towards the floating derelicts and turn them into exploding masses of metal, gasses and aliens. The bridge cheered with each explosion.
“Well done, people. XO, send my congratulations.”
‘Aye, aye, Sir.”
“Mr. Hill. How many more frigates do we have?”
“Fifty-five, Sir.”
“Any more coming through?”
“No, Sir.”
“XO, set up a firing pattern. Crack the center.”
“Aye, aye, sir. Fish in a barrel, Sir.”
Lieutenant Anderson began issuing orders to the human fleet, selecting targets and grouping ships for focused fire. As X-cannons came to bear and missiles came to ready, the alien frigates fired back. Fifty-five alien mid-sized warships fired on the twenty-seven destroyers, eleven cruisers and one dreadnaught.
The new armor of the human fleet barely held up to the first barrage of energy lances and particle beams. Almost half of the cruisers didn’t hold up to the second barrage. More than half of the destroyers didn’t either. Sixteen human destroyers and five human cruisers repeated the death throes of the five alien frigates. More ship wreckage, this time with human carcasses, littered local space.
Ten alien ships had targeted the Thor. She survived both the first and the second onslaught. Her newly designed armor, compliments of the research done on the alien derelict, stood up well.
“Emergency withdrawal, Mr. Anderson.”
The call went out. The single dreadnaught, the six remaining cruisers and the eleven destroyers flipped and powered beyond the range of the alien weapons. Once beyond range, the human fleet flipped back, pointing their guns at the fifty-five alien frigates.
“The new armor helped, XO. But not enough.”
“Without it, we’d have lost the entire fleet, Captain.”
“There is true, XO. Gunny, how many X-bombs do we need to bring that wall down?”
“Can’t say, Captain. Best guess? A hundred, minimum.”
“How many have we got?”
“Just shy of four hundred.”
“Send in one hundred, thirty. Let’s see what those will do.”
“Setting three per ship. Firing up their engines now, Captain.”
“Thank you, Gunny.”
Again, everyone waited with trepidation and watched with hope.
“The aliens are ignoring the bombs, Captain.”
“Thank the Gods, Mr. Hill. They must think these are just the regular mines, no threat.”
The alien frigates learned differently.
In the silence of space, nothing appeared to happen. Just one hundred and thirty boulder-sized hunks of metal traveling to and amongst the defensive wall of alien frigates. To the sensors, something else occurred. Massive balls of X-rays and electro-magnetic radiation expanded at the speed of light from one hundred, thirty fission bombs. Fifty-five alien frigates went dead.
“Missiles, Gunny. XO, signal the fleet. Let’s remove that eyesore from our space.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
“Captain!”
“Calm, Mr. Hill. What is it?”
“Sorry, Sir. More ships coming through, Sir.”
“Makeup?”
“Destroyers, sir. Fifteen. They’re sticking to the configuration that Heimdallr sent us, sir.”
Then we should be seeing six cruisers shortly.”
They did.
“Fire at will, XO.”
“Order given, Captain.”
The remainder of the human fleet open fired with everything it had. The alien destroyers took damage but kept driving forward. The alien cruisers shrugged off the attack.
“Send in the remaining bombs, Gunny.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
Two hundred and sixty-six mobile X-bombs fired up their rockets and headed towards the alien ships. None got through. Learning from the immediate past, the cruisers laid down a withering field of fire, destroying everything surrounding the gate. Conventional mines and X-bombs all became so much inert mass adding to the increasing cloud of debris.
After the countermeasures, the alien ships returned fire. The massive lances of laser, plasma and particle beams immediately destroyed the eleven remaining destroyers. The six human cruisers lasted a little longer. But they died as well, in brilliant flashed of explosions and gas.
“The aliens have solved the X-cannon, XO.”
“So I see, Captain.”
“Mr. Morgan. Prepare and launch all of our buoys. Load them with all of the battle analysis we’ve collected.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
“Send all but one into Bridgelen, scatter them around. The last one, send it to Olympia. Let them know what’s coming.”
“Copy that, Captain.”
“It’s been a pleasure, First Lieutenant Anderson.”
“The pleasure has been all mine, Captain Russell.”
“Mr. Butler, fire everything.”
“Aye, aye, Sir.”
Thor absorbed two of the alien volleys. It didn’t survive the third.
Onboard Heimdallr
Captain Brewer came through. The three crewmates received their passes. First exiting Heimdallr then Odin, Captain Scott and Lieutenants Torres and Brooks walked the short, pressurized gangway to the entrance of the Gregor Shipyard. Standing at the hatch, they got their first glimpse of the privately owned repair depot.
“Big.”
“Understatement, Brooksy.”
“Well, let’s do tourist, Peeps.”
The Captain led his crew through the bay, the main repair shop and stopped at the X-cannon assembly. Seeing the captain and the two lieutenants, Ian Ferguson rushed up, while wiping his hands with an oily rag.
“Captain. I’m Ian. I run this little corner of the shipyard. What can I do for you?”
“I’m Captain Scott. This is Lieutenant Torres and Lieutenant Brooks. From Heimdallr. Just looking.”
“Ah. The little scout ship. Mack and Gary have been pulling their hair out, trying to figure a way to get one of our X-cannons mounted.”
“Any luck?”
“They’ve got some renderings. Nothing final.”
“We’re heading to the concourse. That way?”
“Yup. Through those blast doors. You’ll run right in to it.”
“Can you recommend a place to eat?”
“There’s three eateries. A formal dinner house, a breakfast-lunch and a bar. Depends on what you want.”
“The dinner house. Is the food processed or real?”
“The Starry Night. Real food. Sandy’s, half and half. Lamplighter? Figuring the alcohol would deaden your taste buds, all processed.”
“Thanks. Well, we’ll let you get back to work.”
“Enjoy.”
“I don’t know about you two, but it’s real food for me. Steak. All the trimmings. A good class of wine.”
“Sounds good to me, Toast. So, Starry Night it is.”
“You buying Cap?”
“Only the meal, Brooksy. You drink like a fish.”
“There you go, besmirching your crew.”
“The truth. Only the truth.”
By this time the three had reached the concourse area. Looking up, they saw three levels of walkways, all lined with businesses, everything needed to keep a small, working community functioning. Seeing a kiosk with a monitor, Scott walked over, viewed it and found their destination.
“Top level. Far corner.”
They took their time traversing the three levels, checking out shops, entering stores, perusing merchandise. Knowing how Heimdallr had such limited space, the three didn’t buy anything. Reaching the corner, they looked up and saw the dinner house’s sign. A holographic representation of impressionistic stars and a moon overlooking a village against a background of swirling night.
“I guess we know where it got its name.”
“And here I thought the
only pictures you looked at were naked women.”
“Nah, Toast. The only naked woman I dream about is you.”
“Keep dreaming, Brooksy. Never gonna happen.”
“Now, children. Quit squabbling. Let’s eat.”
Naturally, Starry Nights overcharged. But the Heimdallr crewmates enjoyed real, perfectly-cooked steaks, just-right vegetables and potatoes, washed down with copious amounts of wine and beer. Two hours later, three stuffed diners sat back, content.
“Whoever owns this place, does it right,” Torres commented.
“Well, Cap? Nightcap?”
“Why not, Brooksy. We’re not going anywhere.”
“Lamplighter?”
“Other end of this level.”
Slightly tipsy, the three wandered to the other end of the walkway and entered the darkened, faux-wood interior of the shipyard’s corner bar. Commandeering a raised table, each took a stool and propped up on their elbows.
A cute waitress in a short skirt and low-cut blouse immediately approached and stood. Eyeing the Federacy naval uniforms, she held her small, order tablet and pushed some loose strands of blond hair behind her ear.
“I’m Ellie. What can I get you?”
“Just drinks. I’ll take scotch. Rocks. Double.”
“Beer.”
“Margarita. Slushy.”
“No appetizers? Nuts? Pretzels?”
“Pretzels sound good, Love.”
“Don’t go flirting with the help, Brooksy.”
“Not flirting, Toast. Just being social.”
“Be right back.”
True to her word, she returned with a large bowl of pretzels, hustled off and returned with their drinks. Holding out the tablet, Brooks reach over and pressed his thumb against the screen.
“On me, Cap. Thanks for getting us here. Not eaten by the bugs.”
“Yeah, Cap. Good captaining.”
“Nah. You kept your peepers open, Toast. Brooksy, you sneaked good. So, thanks to you two for getting us all here.”
The three crewmates and friends raised and clinked their glasses and took their first drink of many. Seeing empty glasses, Ellie returned.
“Another round?”
“Please. Who owns this shipyard?”
Again eying the uniforms, the waitress responded. “Who’s asking?”
“Just three spacers in from a long haul. No one special.”