by C J Klinger
The situation officer said, “The Wellerton reports it’s been hit and is unable to stay aloft.”
Jon changed the central status projection to get a view of the squadron spread out behind him. The CSF Wellerton was falling behind and losing altitude. His voice was calmer than he felt when he instructed the com officer to contact her captain, “Ask him if he can make it to the end of the field?”
“Captain Rogers says he believes he can, but not much further, “The com officer responded after a short pause.
Jon switched the central holograph back to the tactical mode. He opened the com to the other ships and said, “Continue the attack until the Wellerton lands then circle the site while the Constitution conducts a recovery operation.” Jon switched to another channel and contacted Adalan. He described the situation. “We’ll be vulnerable during recovery, Adalan. Give us cover and when we’re finished, eliminated any trace of the downed ship.”
Adalan’s voice was calm but had a fight growl when she said, “We’ll be there, but I would suggest sooner would be better than later. The fighters we saw earlier are starting to drop out of orbit and return to the field.”
Jon made a decision. He opened the channel to all ships and said, “Captain Rogers, put your ship down now, even if you have to park it on top of one of their ships. Prepare your people for recovery, but quickly, we have company coming.”
Jon watched as the Wellerton settled on top of what appeared to be a medium-sized Khruellian transport or cargo ship. It had very few weapons pods attached to its surface. The larger ADO ship slightly crushed the small one but settled on an even keel. He immediately ordered the Constitution to hover next to her, nose to nose so their port side bay doors would be adjacent and only a few feet apart. Ben took the helm and moved her a little closer until the two ships were almost touching. As soon as the doors opened, the crew from the stricken ship started streaming across the gap while the small contingent of the Constitution’s Marine detachment took up position to discourage any ground-based Khruellians from getting too close. The two remaining destroyers circled the pair while firing continuously and creating a widening circle of destruction.
Jon could see on the situation display that several Khruellian ships where lifting off from their resting place. One of the larger ones disintegrated as a Hyloxian fighter zoomed past it and headed for the downed ship to provide cover. When the Captain of the Wellerton burst into the Constitution’s bridge, Jon assumed he was the last one alive to leave the downed spaceship. He ordered, “Get us back into the battle.” The entire transfer had taken less than four minutes.
The remaining two destroyers formed up behind the Constitution and started another run. The Khruellians were fully aroused and preparing to repel or destroy the invaders. Jon knew they didn’t have a lot of time left to complete their attack. The rear monitor displayed the CSF Wellerton disappearing in a cloud of atomic particles as a dissemble missile destroyed all evidence of its existence. Adalan had come through. Jon had no idea how many of the Wellerton’s crew had been killed in the shot that had disabled her, but if there were any, their bodies were now part of a distant world, thirty thousand light years from home.
The shields were holding up, but Jon could see that the intensity of the concentrated fire was escalating to a point where they would soon start to fail. “Cease firing,” he ordered. “Redeploy to high orbit.” He was counting on returning to stealth cover once his ships ceased firing, which had revealed their location to enemy gunners. He ordered Ben to alter their trajectory to confuse any tracking systems trying to plot their directions. When the Constitution cleared the atmosphere, Jon ordered the fighters recovered. All ten of the sleek little crafts were accounted for, but several of them would need extensive repairs before going back into combat.
When he felt they were safely away, he turned to the captain of the Wellerton. “What are your losses, Captain Adams?”
The stricken captain said with emotion, “Three, Sir, all in the engineering section. We took a direct hit from a concentrated particle beam weapon. It stayed on us long enough to cut through our shields.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Captain. Give my condolences to your crew,” Jon said, recognizing that his little armada of ships had been incredibly lucky to lose only three people and one ship. Jon thought, “It was the great distance from their homeworld. It’s the only reason we caught the Khruellians flat-footed again.”
Talor, who had been occupied managing the self-defense weapon systems during the attack, added his thoughts to Jon’s. “I believe you are right, Jon. I don’t think we will catch them unprepared again.”
Once they were in orbit, Jon called for an inventory of their remaining dissembler missiles. The alien weapon had become a superb addition to their arsenal. In addition to its destructive force, Jon believed its main attribute was the physiological effect it must have on the enemy. Unless a ship is catastrophically destroyed, most crewmen can expect to survive if their ship is disabled, but the dissembler missile completely took away that option. It had to affect their willingness to face such a weapon.
The weapons officer reported, “Three large missiles and three smaller ones from the fighters.”
Jon turned to ben, “Any suggestions on how we put them to work, Ben?”
Ben smiled wolfishly and said, “Well there’s a large repair facility on the opposite side of the world. I don’t believe it will be heavily defended. Besides, destroying it will eliminate their ability to repair the ships we damaged.”
Jon smiled in appreciation. “Good plan, add insult to injury. As I said before, you’re a devious devil, Ben.”
Ben laughed in appreciation. “Wait till we play poker.”
“That isn’t going to happen, Ben,” Jon said with a straight face. “Besides, if it does, I have Talor on my side.”
Ben looked at the stoic android and said with an equally straight face, “I believe your right, Commander it is not going to happen.”
Jon contacted Captain Russell on the Destroyer CSF Avaroon. The picture of the petite woman appeared on the com screen, and Jon said, “I have an assignment for you Captain. We have six dissembler missiles that need a home.”
Captain Russell smiled broadly and asked, “Where do you want them delivered, Sir?”
Jon described the target, but before he could order a transfer, Talor interrupted him. “Jon, every available Khruellian ship is scouring the space around this planet looking for us. I suggest we move to the far side of the small moon and do the transfer there.
Jon ordered the move, and after the transfer was completed, he told Captain Russell they would create a diversion while she made a run on the repair facilities. “We will rendezvous at the Lagrange point and head for home. Be careful, Captain. Get in, leave your calling card and get out.”
“Aye, aye, Sir, we’ll get it done.” She saluted the screen and broke the connection.
“Let’s create a little noise, Ben,” Jon said as the CSF Avaroon broke away from the formation.
Ben was examining the situation board and said, “There’s a nice cluster of ships circling the debris field around one of the former dreadnaughts that look like good targets.”
Jon looked at his screen and agreed with Ben’s assessment. “Let’s see if our stealth screen still confuses them.”
The Constitution and the CSF Marshall formed up in a two-ship spread and set a course for the cluster of Khruellian ships. Jon didn’t know if they were searching for survivors or looking for remnants of the ships trying to find clues as to what happened to their mighty dreadnaughts. He ordered their speed to be reduced to allow Captain Richards enough time to get to her target assignment. Once the Constitution and the CSF Marshall started firing, she would wait long enough for any Khruellian defense forces to be drawn away by the new battle before delivering the remaining dissembler missiles to the repair facilities. Jon estimated the operation should be completed within an hour.
Both ships opened up si
multaneously on the cluster of ships ahead of them. The effect was instantaneous. Five ships were severely damaged or destroyed, but the remaining Khruellian ships quickly focused their fire on the two unseen ships. The Constitution rocked from several hits. Jon ordered the ADO ships to stop firing and change to a new vector. The firing stopped.
Ben said, “Looks like they have adjusted their strategy to focus on our weapons’ emissions to locate us.”
“True,” Jon agreed, “But that’s still a defensive strategy, not an offensive weapon. We can work around that. Work out a five-jump pattern with thirty-second pauses at each stop. That will give our gunners just enough time to take out several targets and not enough time for them to focus on our firing emissions.”
Ben gave the necessary orders, and soon the view changed on the screen. The pair of ADO ships opened fire, and then the scene changed. The action was repeated four more times leaving a trail of new destruction.
Jon ordered, “Alright, break off, it’s time to take our leave.” While nothing was said, a sense of relief spread over the command deck. Every muscle had been under tension during combat operations, and now that they were safely away, bodies sagged in their chairs.
The CSF Richard joined them at the Lagrange point and reported that it was highly unlikely anything bigger than a personal scooter was going to be repaired any time soon at that Khruellian facility. With a sense of a job well done, Jon ordered the ships to return to Newhope.
Chapter 58
Newhope
Two days after Jon arrived home, Annika’s rotation brought her home. Jon and Talor waited at the field and watched with anticipation as her ship settled in its assigned slot. The crew of the CSF Sparta assembled on the field in front of the sleek craft. Jon watched proudly as Annika inspected their ranks and dismissed those who were lucky enough to get leave. She walked purposely toward Jon speaking to her XO. When she embraced him, it took all their combined willpower to keep from making a spectacle of themselves in front of the departing space crew.
“Welcome home, Warrior,” Jon whispered into her ear taking in the fragrance of her freshly washed hair.
“You’ve been busy I hear,” she said leaning back in their embrace and examining him closely. “All your body parts seem to be intact.”
He smiled and said, “Yes Ma’am, all of them.”
“I can tell,” she said impishly. We’ll get to that later. First, feed me. I’m tired of shipboard food, and I want to hear all about this latest ‘incident’ that making the rounds in the fleet’s rumor mill.”
Talor offered her his welcome and Annika returned it. She had readily accepted the android into their life and their marriage, but she was still struggling with how to treat him physically. She was undecided between hugging him after a long absence or just keeping their relationship a mental one. Jon and Talor were aware of her indecision and decided to let her work it out on her own, much as Jon’s grandmother, Marcia had done with Talo, and later Talia.
Over lunch, in the officer’s club, he described the expedition in detail as he knew she wanted him to do, not only because she was curious about his adventures, but also because she was the captain of a frigate and would probably be facing the same circumstances very soon.
Jon concluded by saying, “We were lucky that we once again caught them unprepared, but we proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that our new weapons systems are more than a match for whatever the Khruellians possess. In my opinion, I believe they are superior.”
Annika nodded her head in agreement then said, “I guess the big questions are will we have enough ships to counter them and how long will our weapons advantages last.”
Annika had zeroed in on exactly what he, Admiral Dexter and Admiral Chen-Warren had discussed when he had made his report. They had concluded it was a race between time and science. None of them expected the Khruellians, with forty thousand years of military experience not to be able to match the ADO in weapons technology. The only reason they did not have some of these weapons systems now was there had been no need; no one they had encountered had been enough of a threat. For a very short period, the ADO would have an advantage in weapons, but a severe disadvantage in numbers of ships. The other temporary advantage they had was the Khruellians did not know who they were fighting.
“How can we win?” Annika asked plaintively when Jon explained what he and the admirals had discussed.
Jon put his hand on top of hers and said, “We have two options, strike now while we have superiority in weapons systems, or hide as long as we can until we have parity in the number of ships, but I don’t believe the ADO has the resources to match the Khruellians in ship construction.”
Annika squeezed Jon’s hand and said, “So the only realistic option is to strike now? That will be costly.”
She didn’t have to explain what costly meant.
They left the officers club, but the discussion had put a damper on their desire to make love, so they decided instead to visit the elder McKinnahs who were in town preparing to visit Islandia.
Jonathon McKinnah met them at the door and said, “Talo warned me you would be coming by, so I broke out a bottle of the best Evian whiskey I have. He said you two might need a drink.”
Jon had grown up with the knowledge that the Talo, Talia and eventually Talor were essentially the same entity in separate forms and were in constant touch with other. To Annika’s credit, she had adapted to this alien concept far quicker than the elder McKinnahs had thought possible. She gave Jonathon Senior a hug and said, “A drink would be appreciated, Sir.”
Marcia came into the hall and saw the concern on her son and daughter-in-law’s faces. “I’ll join you in that drink, Annika. How are you dear?”
“Glad to be home, Marcia, but anxious about the next assignment,” she answered giving her a hug.
They settled in the den and Jonathon poured their drinks. Talo and Talia, towering more than two and a half meters tall and the man-sized Talor stood to one side of the room. It was rare that the three androids were together in one place. Jon watched them and wondered what they thought was the ADO’s best option. He decided to ask them. “What do you think we should do, Talo?” he didn’t need to tell the senior android what he was asking about, he was certain Talo was fully aware of everything he and Annika had discussed.
Ever since Jonathon senior had created the CIP and subsequently the CSF and Talo had come into contact with more and more people, he had changed the way he answered such questions. Instead of just giving a solution to a problem he had begun to give hints where to look for answers. Jonathon had explained it was the Aries method of teaching humans to develop the skills in sciences they would need to prosper in an interstellar environment. As a result of his clue-giving practice, the lab at Gruenwald had become the foremost research center among the combined ADO worlds. Jon wasn’t expecting a direct solution from Talo, but he would be very surprised if Talo didn’t point him in the right direction.
Talo said, “I agree with your assessment that earlier action is probably better than later when numerical superiority would probably not be possible, but I suggest you reexamine what you hope to gain by such a confrontation.” Talo paused for a moment and then added. “Before you make a decision, I would suggest you first speak to Ruuhr and then to Cleric general Bradley-Kinsley.”
Jon sat back and took a sip of his drink. “An Alphan and a Vajrashilan” he finally said. “Interesting.” He looked at his granddad quizzically and asked, “Any idea what he means?”
The elder McKinnah laughed and leaned against his life mate, Marcia. “We gave up trying to second-guess Talo’s hints a long time ago, Jon. Now we just go in the direction he points. I suggest you try it.”
“I guess we will, Jon said and shot Annika a private message, “See what you’re in for?”
She didn’t answer him but squeezed his hand instead. The four of them spent an hour talking about the events of the day and how the war had changed Newhope. The influx of
aliens had caused a considerable stir at first, but the citizens of Newhope soon adjusted to their presence. There had even been a cautious exchange of foods that had prompted the opening of several new restaurants.
It was dark by the time Jon, Annika, and Talor left the senior McKinnah’s apartment. They were silent all the way to their own place, and once inside they headed for their bedroom without saying anything. Their sex was passionate, self-absorbing and rinsed their mind of the accumulated worries thrust on them by the facts of the ADO’s situation. Later, as the lay together they felt a renewed sense of hope.
Jon propped himself up on one elbow and asked, “How long will you be in port?”
Annika smiled at her husband and ran her hand down the side of his face, “Trying to get lucky again, sailor?”
“Hey, I know a good thing when I see it,” he retorted.
She reached up and kissed him. “Seven days, then we’re back on station around Hylox. What about you?”
Jon said, “I believe the CSF Constitution has become Admiral Chen-Warren’s personal errand ship. I have no idea what she has planned next, or when.”
Annika sat up in bed and asked, “What are you going to do about Talo’s suggestion?”
Jon sat up next to her. “Talor has informed me that both Ruuhr and Cleric General Bradley-Kinsley are in Newhope, so I plan to see them tomorrow.”
“Do you mind company?”
He reached over and pulled her on top of him. “Not at all, you can distract them while I ask the tough questions.”
“Deal,” she said and wiggled on top of him enough to distract him for the rest of the night.