SLSF KELLY: Viper Command, this is SLSF Kelly, tracking Pentalink-4, which has dropped warp. Two ships of unknown origin have rendezvoused with the ship. We’re preparing to send scans. The ships appeared suddenly, perhaps exhibiting an advanced cloaking...
VIPER COMMAND, FREEDOM GROUP: Kelly, do you copy? We received only a partial message. Scan files were not received. Kelly, acknowledge.
SLSF TERESHKOVA: Viper Command, this is Tereshkova on patrol. Two ships of unknown design have appeared to sensors, coordinates Enlined. Request...
VIPER COMMAND, FREEDOM GROUP: Tereshkova, we were receiving your Enline transmission, then lost your signal. Tereshkova, report.
DISPLAY.
Communications, including QuIM, have been disrupted by intentional jamming. The enline streaming report from SLSF Tereshkova showed images of two ships of unknown design, and that one of the ships had destroyed the warship.
Viper Command immediately sent pinpoint laser flash packets, releasing autonomous control to the AI controlled carrier and battlestars, along with a Monte Carlo directive. The AI systems would strive to complete Operation Viper using probabilistic modeling, preprogrammed battle simulations to predict individual movement, and laser flash packets for direct communication.
Within seconds, the unidentified hostile ships were spotted on fast approach to Cygnus Prime. Pollux, Castor, Alhena, and Regor moved quickly to box in the ships, designated Bogie-1 and Bogie-2, using all available methods of communication to warn of the war zone intrusion. SLS Freedom was also in the vicinity and prepared to launch starfighters. Bogie-1 moved off slowly to establish a 1-light-minute clockwise orbit along the rotational axis of Cygnus Prime. Bogie-2 established a similar counterclockwise orbit.
Pollux and Castor pealed-off from their interceptor group to tail Bogie-1, while the others tracked Bogie-2. The rest of Freedom Battle Group split forces for interdiction at one-quarter-bogie-orbital, when the presumed enemy ships would be at their farthest point of separation.
As Bogie-2 approached the intercept point, SLS Freedom stood off at the ready while Alhena and Regor closed distance with the ship. Seven battlestars spread out in a 2-3-2 wall formation to block Bogie-2, which came to an abrupt stop. SLS Freedom launched 10 starfighters on a fast approach vector, with Starfighter-1 dropping a ThOR shell, sending a plasmatic stream of energy across the bow of the ship as a final warning.
Starfighter-1 vanished in a cloud of atomic dust. SLS Freedom and the other AIs took the opportunity to gather data.
Nine starfighters dropped their full complement of ThOR shells, which auto-locked and fired 90 spears of atomic energy in a coordinated volley of death and destruction. The precise point of impact should have erupted in a vortex of forces powerful enough to bleed across the EM spectrum. Instead, the energetic violence dissipated, fading to nothing. The battlestars fired their main guns and spread to avoid return fire.
SLS Freedom had signaled the nine starfighters to scatter at flank speed. As they spread out, it was as though the hand of a giant reached out to swat them, causing the entire disbursed group to shatter as one.
Regor caught a quantum glimpse that prompted him to fire afterburners in an attempt to evade. The tight wave of energy missed him. He sent his scan data, along with his speculations of the Bogie-2 weapon system in a laser data burst to the collection array at the gate-ship. A destroyer should be at station guarding the gate.
In his brief analysis of the energy wave, he surmised the weapon was a sophisticated GRASER system, with power output many orders of magnitude above that of an Empire dreadnaught. The higher output allowed him to speculate on the forces underlying the expected gravitational effects. He was certain the weapon integrated and amplified the various Higgs fields.
SLS Alhena observed the wave front that Regor had avoided and moved in to provide cover. She detected another round of fire just as it closed around him, settling around his shielding almost like particles of dust, before collapsing and leaving Regor a crushed and twisted slag heap.
Alhena fired, though the massive bolt of energy faded away to nothing as it encountered Bogie-2s defensive screen. She burned port thrusters and her afterburner as the other battlestars moved in for attack. One by one, they were crushed, torn asunder, punctured with thousands of hull breaches, and blasted to atomic dust.
SLSF Jemison pushed in at FTL-10, dropped from warp at point blank range, and fired both Growlers, managing to bring an energetic light show along the defensive screen before the missiles ceased to exist. The crew of Jemison decided to remain would be futile. In warp, they could outrun the enemy ship’s weapon fire, and they sped off at FTL-10 toward the gate-ship.
Only SLS Freedom remained within the Cygnus Prime system. The huge carrier shuddered as its AI controlled propulsion system began spitting out the largest hydrogen bombs in storage to gain maximum acceleration. As the thruster plate recoiled in a rhythmic pulse of thermonuclear detonations, Bogie-1 and Bogie-2 cruised alongside for a minute, as though the crews were enjoying the sight. Then the ships of the Dahnahaash vanished. Moments later, it was as though Freedom encountered an impenetrable wall, crumpling into a massive jumble of twisted metal, the final blast from a nuclear propulsion seed adding an atomic glow.
***
At flank speed, SLSF Gagarin joined SLSF Jemison, which had just arrived at the gate-ship. The crew of SLSF Leonov, upon hearing of the terrible news at Cygnus Prime from Jemison, was hastening to the bring the gate capacitors to full charge. But, with QuIM communications effectively blocked, Viper Commander John Lewis decided to send Jemison through the gate to apprise Solcom of the situation.
He also wanted an immediate response with regard to the gate-ship. Since it couldn’t be defended against this enemy, the logical solution was to destroy it in order to deny access to the Solar League portal bridge system. Yet, it was also the only reasonably close access point to Cygnus Prime and the lifeline to 300,000 Solar League soldiers.
The gate cycled, and Jemison transited. Leonov would be next, after a two-minute charging cycle. The crew of Gagarin would wait for a response.
The Dahnahash ships appeared without warning, firing precise bursts of energy at Gagarin and Leonov, which collapsed in upon themselves to a tenth their original size. A charging beam from Bogie-1 brought the capacitors beyond full power allowing both ships to transit in tight single file, their hulls barely fitting through the gate. Immediately after transit, the gate collapsed in a molten mess.
At Jasmin, the gate opening didn’t excite the skeleton crew, who were expecting the arrival of SLSF Leonov. The surprise came when two very large ships crossed over and began firing at the base, targeting weapons emplacements. Two enormous beings untangled in the gate control room, bellowing at each other, apparently upset they had to stoop due to the low 24-foot ceilings.
In the Jasmin control room, Sargent Masters threw up his hands, and let the commander know QuIM was still down, with no way to communicate their situation apart from opening the gate. That was the last thing Commander Tung wanted after watching the monsters dispatch an entire squad in moments. He thumbed the identification pad and pushed the gate emergency destruction button again. Nothing.
Despair gripped him as the camera showed one of the creatures pick up a device he had placed on a control console, and slap his comrade on the soldier. They disappeared. Two ships had destroyed an entire battle group with no effort. Transiting the gate might signal the end of humanity. The gate opened.
The Dahnahaash took a final moment to destroy the base before making the transit. In that moment the gate leading to Solar League space was engulfed in a nuclear fireball as the SLSF Jemison completed a warp maneuver to drop a HAKI and run. The brave crew was never heard from again.
END TIMELINE DROP. +
***
DEATH AND TAXES
Action Pack is decidedly late. After the brush with the lavashells, we’re definitely jumpy. Amy is out walking the perimeter. I’m near the mouth of our c
ave. We’ll give them another five minutes, then leave a note and move on to a more secure spot to plot the destruction of the shield power grid.
The clanking sound isn’t my imagination. “Everybody up and to your port-tech!”
Enroth doesn’t seem concerned. “At ease! Action Pack is here.”
Amy has untangled next to me. “The specialist guys are here.”
What’s up, Amy? “What took you so long to report, Amy?”
Excuses. “I had to be sure. Wait until you see these guys.”
Instead of more lavashells, a whole platoon of trooper-types is whir-clanking around a bend toward us. They’re decked out in full “turtle” suits. I’m actually quite familiar with the rigs. The exoskeletal shells have layers of skin similar to that of a battlestar. The motorized package allows them to run at a sustained 25-miles-an-hour and even faster in sprints, for a couple hundred miles. And they can lift more than 1,000 pounds.
Endurance, strength, balance, and firepower. The suits can run a very long time on a single fuel cell charge too. And I know about that for sure. The fuel cells are made by Vizualized Technologies, Inc. The platoon lead just looked at me and did a double take, Lieutenant Erhart by his tag.
Clearly a nice southern gentleman, as he gives me a nice salute and says, “Howdy do, captain. I’ve still got near a three-quarter charge on my rig thanks to these Viz cells. What say, ma’am, how about we move on out and make some good and proper mayhem?”
What say? For some reason I have all kinds of extra energy. He, I mean, this could be interesting. Quiet, Para, I’ve got this one. I mean, I’ll handle this.
Perhaps he has something else in mind, besides the power grid. About generating some mayhem. I mean military mayhem. Oh, for pity’s sake. “Call me Viz. Save ma’am for your momma. What do you have in mind, soldier?”
What are you smiling at, Para? Maybe I don’t like being called ma’am any more.
The soldier gestured to a rock outcropping that could make-do as a seat then held out his hand, as in you have a seat first. “Name’s Bran Erhart, ma’am. Uhh, Viz. Bran, if you please. Glad to make your acquaintance.”
I gestured to pull the rest in close for our mayhem planning session. Even Enroth is smiling. What’s gotten into these people?
Bran jumped right in. “We have one of those SID fellas embedded with our platoon. Say hello, Jackson.” Jackson nodded. “We’ve been trooping around, as we do. Came across a camp just over yonder. It’s clear as a bell, they aim to come for y’all. Jackson says they’ve been looking really hard for you, know all about Shockwave, and they’ve got nasty interrogation methods in mind. My platoon and me, we’re strongly opposed to that happening. So, we snooped on them, just a little.
“And, come to find, they have some sort of big muckity-muck Primer official with them. Jackson here says he can tell from the markings on the fella’s ride, that he’s with the central government. Like I said, high up muckity-muck. So, I’m thinking, why not do a little snatch and grab and interrogation of our own. Jackson assures me, he can get the guy to talk. Maybe he knows all about the port blocking power grid. And when we come calling for Mr. Mucky, may as well blow the rest of them such-and-such to whatever kind of hell they got around here.”
To Ahaam with them would be the local thought. A Prime governor, with a team specifically looking for Shockwave. These Primers, always seeking the limelight, celebrity status, a chance to shine on the VG, or whatever they call their vid-players. Raiding this group doesn’t sound like an easy proposition though.
There are at least 100 soldiers, a couple of mil-bots, and two aerial tanks. They’ll be monitoring for porting signals. Bran said his platoon generally ports to an area quite a distance from their intended recon zone. Then they just run on to their intended destination. Yeah, that makes sense, if you have a robotic exoskeleton. My cloaking field is maxed out as it is with this group. There’s no way I can cover all of us. Bran seems to know that and has a perfect PLZ picked out for us to land. They’ll just run on over.
How should we handle the Primer sentries? Leave that to Billy. He’s already in place. Meet at the PLZ in 15. Okay.
Billy did his job. No sentries. No sensors to give away our location. And our timing was good, arriving just as the Primers were packing to move on our cavern. Bran pointed to a limo with government markings. We would find the... muckity-muck inside, sipping on some iced tea or something. The ride looked decidedly roomy, and heavy.
I cloaked, along with Para and the Allenmores. Para snapped the door open and climbed in. As my cloaking field enveloped the governor, he gasped, clearly recognizing Para and me. Despite the heavy insulation, I could hear the beginnings of the shock and awe session going on outside. Time to go, there would be a Manly shell as the big finale. We ported, limo and all, to our new accommodations.
As instructed, we sat tight in the limo, still cloaked, while a guy named Manson tore into the vehicle electronics, to disable the tracking devices. The governor was very unpleasant, refusing to engage in any sort of polite conversation.
I’m sure our translators were working fine. He turned beat red when Para suggested we turn Cygnus Prime into a nice resort planet, to make sure the Primers all had decent jobs, catering to the many guests. A jobs program was only fair, since the Primers would need to work very hard to pay the heavy taxes necessary to boost all those conquered worlds up to the living standards of Empire citizens. I’m not sure, with Primers, but turning beat red is probably a sign of anger. Oops.
Snug in our hidey-hole, Jackson pulled out a case that contained an odd-looking piece of equipment, and a top section that held an assortment of vials and saline bags and syringes. The governor was trussed up in a throw-and-go restraint system. Jackson hooked up some electrodes, head, chest, back of the knee. He put a pic-line in and attached a small saline tube, obviously intending to distribute drugs. He turned on the machine and then nodded to Bran, who backhanded the governor, hard, across the face.
The governor turned red again, not just at the slap site, and said some very unkind things to Bran and Jackson. Jackson just smiled, carefully watching his machine. He then had Bran push a button set on top the electrodes attached to the governor’s head. Each time, there was a different response, from a tiny whimper, to an almost-smile. All the while, Jackson watched his machine. He had Bran backhand the governor again.
At that point, I was starting to get uncomfortable with the procedure. I opened my mouth to say as much, but Bran softly patted my shoulder. He touched my shoulder again and Nanemed me: It’s going to be okay, that was the worst of it, needed a baseline.
Jackson next chose a vial, loaded a syringe, and pumped it into the governor’s IV-bag. His eyes went wide for a second, then he looked like he was in La-la land. Bran pushed a button on his machine which prompted the governor to smile. He pushed another button, bringing a look of terror. I think. Sometimes it’s hard to read nonhumans. At that point, Enroth took an interest, and strolled over to watch.
Jackson nodded and started to ask questions in fluent Prime. The governor was chatty, but seemed able to talk around any sensitive subjects. They conversed for a while, then at the push of a button, the prisoner went go to sleep. Chat, sleep. Chat, sleep. Jackson changed his drug of choice several times, while the governor slept. The limo provided what was needed for some clothing changes. They even gave the guy a nice haircut. Well, his eyebrows were a little long for our taste.
After an hour or so, maybe a little longer, it was clear Jackson had succeeded in giving the false impression of weeks, even months, of imprisonment and interrogation.
Jackson claimed the war would soon be over, after one last push by the humans. The governor didn’t think that was likely, not with the Dahnahaash directly involved. Jackson tried to dive deeper into the matter of the Dahnahaash, but with no success.
Another subject of interest was the power array for the orbital anti-port grid. And here I thought Action Pack already had the coordinate
s for one of the power arrays, but they only knew the general vicinity. Jackson again claimed the war would soon be over. The nearby power array had been destroyed and humans would be porting in by the millions. That brought a definite look of concern, moving Jackson to push a new button.
A fuzzy image formed on the VG. There were scenes of picturesque countryside. Some sort of towers. Next, came a string of detailed numbers and symbols. The Primer version of grid coordinates. Jackson sent the image to his pid. Then he put the governor to sleep.
The array is northeast of our position, about a 3-hour stroll for someone with a mech-suit. We’ll meet up at a small clearing, 3 miles from the array.
Billy had already made his rounds by the time we arrived at the PLZ, and finding no sentries, had moved off to a tactical spotting position up in the cliffs. Not that we didn’t trust Billy, but it made sense for Shockwave to cloak and have a second look around, up close. The array is in a bowl-shaped valley surrounded by mountainous terrain. There were no obvious guards or major obstacles, other than a defense force shield around the array and four armored towers bristling with weapons.
We didn’t dare scan, but some delicate probing to check out the shielding situation, and some old-school video recordings will help with the planning process.
The shielding has only a light surface penetration, going down around five feet. We settled on a simple, though messy plan, involving a moderate rad count, limited only by our five remaining Manley shells. Para, with her capabilities, can handle high radiation, at least for a short while. Give that girl a shovel, and she could out-dig a gopher twice her size. Shhhh. Don’t tell Para I said that. It’s true though. Action Pack is a nuke-nod team, biologically enhanced to withstand radiation, to a point. The mech suit shielding helps as well.
That’s all well-and-good. But, in this case, radiation won’t be an issue. Manley shells are relatively clean, we have rad-suits in our packs, and we would be in-and-out quick.
All in all, it seems to be a good plan despite the quick arrangement. Dirty Feet and GG have already set up four guys to take the Manley shots and provide overwatch. The rest are out patrolling, to make sure nothing sneaks up on us.
Invasion: Journal Three (Shockwave Book 3) Page 35
