"That's going to give our scientists a lot to consider," Jakes puzzles at Cyborg. "Self-reproduction is mind-blowing, but once our scientists learn more I'm sure they'll figure out how it works. Ask what it needs to survive that we don't have with us. How long can it exist outside the base camp? Make sure it knows we're here to keep him, her, or whatever it is alive and to find others that might be alive. We're not here to harm Creators and we will fight the invaders."
Navi Bridge
With key mission leaders watching the planet and invading spaceships from afar, Dr. Abraham presses staff for continuing updates of ground personnel, satellites, and enemy vessels as the mega-storm finally abates, moving away in space. Now almost a half million miles away, the gifted scientist addresses personnel monitoring events below via the ship-wide intercom.
"Your attention please; I have some news, so if you would listen for a few moments. The good news is the mother of storms is moving out of range as we speak," Abraham pauses, his voice clear signaling an averted disaster. "You might be thinking we overacted by moving this far away but safe is better than sorry with the magnetic forces and speed the rare storm exhibited. At this point, Zote and Dr. Goddard are plotting a course back. Nonetheless, we're staying focused on the two vessels apparently in route to retrieve Creators and troops. For that reason, ground contact is off limits until we find out what happened to them. We hope they were destroyed by the storm but we don't know. Signaling ground troops might give away positions, so be patient until we know Navi isn't in danger. I'll get back to you when we know more about the ground situation. Parenthetically, the storm was the biggest and fiercest natural event imaginable, one never experienced on Earth. I'm confident we gave ample warning to our troops before the storm hit. Last time we heard from Captain Jakes, he had control of a young Creator and in route to the base camp after engaging what appeared to be six agile and terrifying giant robots that were like angry mechanical grizzly bears. Far as injuries, we suffered casualties but I have nothing to report at present. Our men fought bravely against the monsters and captured their prize. However, if any vessel remains, we expect them to fight for control due to the unique nature of Creators, perhaps the most prized creature one can imagine. To that end, Commander Jocko asks that fire-support teams report immediately to respective battle stations. That includes all space weapon platforms. You'll get more details in the next few hours. All right, that's all for now and thanks for your patience and continuing support; Abraham out."
Kelt-3ab
Inside the large cave's edge, Jakes greets two Army Calvary scouts from the Fort Knox 19D Armor Recon Unit returning with news the storm had dissipated. Time to move everyone to the home base had finally arrived. Instructing one of them to roust the others, Jakes steps outside the cave to check the scene with binoculars. Not seeing drones or support aircraft, he assumes air assets were lost during the storm. Once troops and Creator square with a quick body count, Jakes motions to Sergeant Mingus to check the route ahead. Moments later, the tired caravan begins trudging to the base camp not knowing if anyone survived the storm including Navi and two enemy spaceships.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
War Footing
n Navi's helm, Billy Goddard and Zote are managing navigation duties when a small but piercing bright silent alarm begins pulsating on an overhead panel. Zote moves to an instrument panel hosting various forms of radar and signals, this particular one pointing at space. Once assured computers are functioning properly, he announces the alarm indicates a single vessel is approaching at high speed and expected to reach high orbit within two hours. Immediately calling Commander Jocko, forces managing four space weapons platforms are on high alert.
"Where do we stand?" Jocko asks leader of direct-energy lasers, the close range system used as last resort. "You boys'll are second but we may need you when hell breaks loose."
The engineer responds with conviction. "Systems are prepped for kill shots if we get two additional vectors for reference. How's work coming on the satellites, sir?"
"Two survived and will be back online shortly, Dr. Wilfred. They're reprogramming software issues caused by storm damage. Have your team ready on moment notice. Is there anything we can do to bolster tracking if satellites don't come back in time?"
"We could launch radio beacons but they'll give away our position. Is that something you want to consider?" Wilfred asks. "The system needs three minutes between launches."
"Three minutes is a long time in battle," Jocko puzzles. "Let me think about it. Where do we stand with the kinetic rods?" he pivots to another senior engineer. "I may want to try a long range shot to begin."
"We're online," the Area-51 engineer answers calmly. "Distance is the key issue, Commander. Travel arcs begin wobbling after a few thousand miles. Once that far, accuracy degrades five percent per second, so if close enough our rods from god can knock out almost anything."
"That's good news, Dr. Kitchen. I want your team ready to fire in the next hour. What's status of the onboard guidance system?"
"They're fire and forget missiles, Commander. Onboard computers adjust if targets maneuver. Variable attack patterns will make them hard to stop in the aggregate."
"What about the drain on ship power? I heard it takes 50-megawatts to release them."
"Yes, that's correct. Once a twelve-pack is fired, we should maneuver out of range until power restores. It takes about seven minutes to get back what's expended."
"All right, I'll fine tune tactics, but seven minutes can seem like eternity in space. I'm not sure we'll get time for second chances."
"Yes, sir, that's why ion-batteries need full-loads prior to the attack. Without that, we're vulnerable since origin of rod residue is easily traced. With enough time and cloaking restoration requirements, we might need to repel incoming threats."
"All right, Dr. McKee, it's your turn in the paint. What's status of the EMP? I don't want to use it but it may come down to a last second Statue of Liberty audible."
"I understand, Commander. We must ensure sound waves from electromagnetic pulses move away from the planet. Otherwise, we could disintegrate humans on the surface."
"Let's hope the enemy complies," Jocko frowns at the implication, "but the mission comes first. Nobody gets home if Navi goes down. All right Lieutenant Jonas, let's review the rail gun. Assuming we need your team first, where do we stand?"
The Army officer is confident about his platform, perhaps the most versatile weapon ever used in battle on land, air, or sea.
"Sir, the rail gun is ready. My team is anxious to lead if we engage."
"How many projectiles can we unload in a minute? I want the enemy dodging us rather than setting up kill shots."
"Sir, six projectiles can be released in less than minute if necessary. Twelve-packs take longer. Once outside micro-ion engines will keep looking for trouble until fuel supplies run out. They'll seek and destroy whatever's out there."
"Could they conceivably turn on us if we miss?"
"No sir, override destruction codes destroy the cones if we lose the original target."
Kelt-3ab Camp
At the base camp built by Creators where they lived safely for an unknown time, tired and sweaty Sgt. Mingus is met like a lost friend once entering the guarded perimeter. Explaining the rest are still ten to fifteen minutes behind, he suggests a handful of soldiers relieve tired stretcher-bearers and take them water. He also informs medical teams prep emergency rooms for three victims with various wounds, potential injuries requiring blood transfusions, surgery, and possible amputations.
When teams unite in the busy camp, Captain Jakes exhales overdue sighs of relief. Once there, he's relieved aircraft had been stored in large structures along with tons of supplies left by Dr. Abraham in case Navi didn't return. Informed that communications are still offline, he's updated on storm damage and the potential battle between two alien vessels. Meanwhile, Jakes takes Cyborg to see the young Creator in familiar surrounding stocked wit
h special concoctions the laboratory is hoping to duplicate for the journey back. Already refreshed with filtered air and food inside the stark living quarters, Jakes decides to establish more fluid communication lines to understand why this small creature is highly valued.
"Cyborg, I want you to ask the Creator what else it needs. You and medical teams must ensure it survives."
"This is my first exposure to Creators as well, Captain. In my previous world, we didn't mingle like humans. I spent most time preparing for or engaging in space battles protecting the planet and Creators from harm. Roles were limited to what we were designed."
"All right, find out if it's aware of the planet's tenuous situation. Let's establish groundwork before talking about leaving here for good. That could be upsetting to the little fella."
Turning to face the grayish creature Cyborg dwarfs in size and weight, the hybrid starts a conversation using the odd digital sound humans can't duplicate. Sounding like scratches on black boards all strain keeping up. "Kista-vi-mi; mooka toot sha-ka-voom-ra, sta."
"What did you say?" Jakes puzzles, the words mostly annoying noise to him.
"This planet is dying and if it's aware of the situation regarding a livable environment."
Seconds pass before the Creator replies using words Captain Jakes clearly understands. "Yes, this planet is dying with approximately seven hundred years remaining. We have studied it many times after events but nothing can stop it. Engineering skills cannot stop momentum."
Medical personnel, scientists, and others are stunned at the definitive English reply, diction, and articulation beyond belief. "Find out how and when he understood our language. That's incredible, Cyborg."
After a short time, the Creator ignores Cyborg and speaks directly to the Captain. Rating Cyborg as subservient worker or slave it's interested and impressed how weaker creatures control what Creators designed and built. "In the cave and during the journey I monitored discussions by studying emotions, attitudes, and command structure. Once understanding, I began absorbing, transposing, and listening to you and others. I am not impressed with your language's redundancies and needless complexities. However as you cannot understand the language of my ancestors, I will address questions. It is easy to comply."
Captain Jakes is bewildered by sudden ability of the small creature that can't be classified using common divisions of human, animal, and inorganic. "Ok, that suits me fine. Are you the last survivor? What happened to the other Creators?"
"I cannot say with certainty about the other Creator living here before the attack, Captain," it explains. "The enemy took me while two other Creators were working in substations. Machines protecting us from danger and invaders fell asleep after a new device deploying gas destroyed internal processors."
"Where were the giants taking you when we caught up with them?" Jakes follows, amazed by the exchange. Ability to pick up the English language so deftly and quickly serves as testimony to Creator genius.
"Another invader destroyed their spacecraft, thus they fled to an unknown destination; most likely a defendable high point. I estimate the giants requested additional support in order to land and retrieve us. Whether they knew you were in pursuit is unknown. During captivity, the giants did not communicate verbally. Instead, they transferred thoughts electronically."
Jakes isn't sure telepathy or mode of Bluetooth communication is implied by the general description, a topic to be pursued by scientists if they survive. "Our spaceship spotted two vessels in route to pick you up. Our ship commander, Dr. Abraham, had to decide the best strategy that ensured return to our home and the best way of protecting you. At this point, I don't know what he decided or their status, but I'm hoping the storm destroyed the enemy spaceships."
As the pair converse, an outer door to the living facility opens. "There's something happening in space, Captain," a soldier announces excitedly. "Come see the fireworks, sir."
Joining a small crowd outside pointing and looking up, Jakes determines Abraham had decided or been forced to fight. Listening as powerful explosions break mostly silence hundreds of miles away, the scene is akin to an erratic noiseless fireworks display going awry.
"Which one is Navi?" a nurse standing nearby utters. "Does anyone know?"
Navi Level Five Bay
In the dangerous level-five environment with state-of-the-art weapons added to Navi before the historic journey, Commander Win Jocko barks orders from a lofty perch above the action where he can watch the four battle stations. While the rail gun six-man team handles reloading using heavy lift equipment after releasing six tremendous bursts of shells aimed to destroy or disable an enemy survivor of the storm, Jocko encourages all fire teams to stay focused.
The rail gun, an electromagnetic accelerator, perhaps the most ingenious labor saving tool of war since the invention of artillery, is a smart device guided by onboard drone-size micro-ion engines lodged behind a tough graphene nose. Heating hybrid-nitrogen solid gas until forming plasma, the lethal ammunition propels on twin copper rails producing supersonic speed. Once released, the smart weapons move in random patterns making them difficult to stop. Producing a magnetic field with amazing power, instead of the typical chemical combustion, the energy-efficient cone-shaped armament, originally designed to re-task CIA spy satellites, revs for a second attempt. As the gun revs, heats, and vibrates, it creates strong electromagnetic current flowing from one copper rail lined with silver into a twin component. The sturdy projectiles, made of classified tungsten composite material, with a hundred mile range on Earth, have greater range in zero gravity where resistance is nil. The clever engineering marvel, supported by 50-megawatt high-energy generators, develops magnetic fields of ionized gas, two parallel around rails with a third field on a perpendicular moving armature around the cone-shaped projectile. Squeezed ahead by an innovative force field, projectiles accelerate swiftly along the rails before ejecting and breaking the potent circuit.
"What's feedback from the initial salvo; over," Jocko asks the helm. "Did we hit them?" he asks knowing the tremendous power released when projectiles explode. Hoping for damage even if not directly hitting targets due to shrapnel and shockwaves, the combat commander anticipates good news.
"Negative Commander," Billy Goddard replies as Dr. Abraham, Zote, flight technicians, and engineers listen to the exchange. "Despite size the vessel is agile, able to dodge and fire laser bursts at the projectiles like a flyswatter," Billy amplifies. "Suggest adding matrix pattern variability. My guess is they're used to protecting the ship from incoming space debris; over."
"If they head toward us we'll have to cloak, Commander," Dr. Abrahams adds soberly as Jocko ponders the advice from noncombatants. "One more attempt and we're out of here until assessing our next step. We must limit risk to Navi."
"Roger, another reprogrammed firing solution will be ready in thirty seconds; standby gentlemen; out."
"Hold on, everyone," Goddard exclaims as high-definition cameras catch new movement in space. "Two craft are heading toward the surface. I suggest we advise the ground team they're gonna have visitors."
"Did you catch that news, Commander Jocko?" Abraham says firmly. "It's time to break radio silence. We must warn our troops."
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Ground War
ith excitement of open channels to Navi, everyone listening is relieved as pleasantries and news are exchanged. Soon however, it's clear the war is in its infancy with dramatic fireworks in the heavens no more than precursors. Captain Jakes and team listen as Dr. Abraham and Commander Jocko explains what to expect, advising they're on their own until the remaining enemy spacecraft is addressed. Under no circumstances is the last Creator to fall into enemy hands. For now, they should plan for a ground attack with an enemy of unknown strength, capabilities, and type. Get whatever air power remains out of bunkers and prepare for a life and death struggle.
Recruiting everyone except medical personnel and Creator, weapons disperse to camp members including s
cientists and engineers that had never fired guns. When some scientists push back, Captain Jakes gets in their face with stern words.
"You may have to defend yourself, if not others," Jakes snarls to a large group of civilians huddled around him. "I realize you’re mostly eggheads, but we don't have enough trained shooters to protect everyone and orders are clear about the Creator. It must not fall into the hands of whatever is coming to take it. The last update indicated two enemy landing craft came down about five miles from here. For that reason, we're sending two teams that will cut them off. In fact, the squads left ten minutes ago. However, if some manage breaking through, we're the last line of defense. Chances are we'll be facing machines so I don't want to hear you're conscientious objectors. That should have been made clear at home."
After give and take about hesitations, reservations, objections, and feelings a few noncombatants step forward bringing other reluctant holdouts along.
Alpha Squad
Twenty-four rugged men from the ranks of Navy Seals, Delta, Rangers, and Green Berets are roughly an equal mix as the other squad lags a few miles away taking another route. Led by Sergeant-Major Josh Wheeler, Alpha squad stops double-timing when Wheeler signals the men to rest while he studies the expected battlefield. Listening to feedback from a drone navigator looking for movement, he's alerted when the visual aerial feed on a handheld device goes blank.
"Base, what's status of the drone feed? Are we offline or did something else happen; over," he asks an operator sitting at a base camp terminal.
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