Waking in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 2)

by D Patrick Wagner

“Twelve minutes for next heading, Captain.”

  “Vice-Admiral, executing manoeuvers as planned.”

  “Well done, Captain. Carry on.” As fleet commander, Vice-Admiral Weiskoff continued to exude all the confidence he could muster, projecting that all would be well, they would succeed.

  “Lieutenant Wright?”

  “New heading inputted and ready for execution, Captain.”

  “It’s going to be a long eleven minutes,” Vice-Admiral Weiskoff mumbled under his breath.

  Ten excruciating minutes passed. The Vice-admiral forced himself to not interfere with the running of Odin and the fleet. His job was to manage, oversee the operation, instill confidence. In sporting parlance he coached. His players played. So he watched, ready to insert himself in a moment’s notice.

  “Mr. Bradley, Status?”

  “Enemy still holding intercept path. SOL is four-tenths.”

  “Mr. Connors, notify all ships for course change on Odin’s lead.” Captain Brewer watched the seconds tick down. “Lieutenant Wright, come to the new heading.”

  Everyone, still in their pressurized pods or strapped in their gravity bags experienced a new directional force as Odin swung towards the new heading, continuing its crushing acceleration. Little did anyone know that the small human flotilla just performed the same escaping maneuver as did the survivors of the Sasania Navel Headquarters.

  Five human ships cut across the face of fourteen charging alien vessels. The aliens broke hard, forcing their weapons to bear on the escaping fleet. Eight Mortek frigates got caught at the rear, blocked from entering the battle. The angle of trajectory for the human flotilla created blockage for the five alien destroyers. It took precious time for them to reform and open firing lanes.

  Four Federacy ships fired full broadsides at two alien cruisers. The targets took everything that the four Federacy ships could fire at first, but they finally succumbed. The two Mortek ships came apart in a spectacular display of fiery gasses and exploding material.

  “Lieutenant Peterson, Fire.”

  The senior weapons officer tapped an icon on his control panel and the experimental X-cannon release a withering wave of x-rays and EMP pulses. A barrage of missiles followed. The pre-selected target and its occupants ceased to function or live. With the striking of the missiles, the third and last alien cruiser joined its Mortek brothers in fiery gasses and exploded material.

  “Second target, Lieutenant Peterson.”

  By this time the five alien destroyers succeeded in opening firing lines and targeting the fleeing human ships. The two destroyers, the Tyr and the Forseti died quickly, filling the void of space with small novas and more ship debris littered with organic remains. The alien dreadnaught, alone, took on the Njord. The human battleship lasted long enough to inflict some damage. But it quickly succumbed to the superior fire power of the super dreadnaught.

  Odin fired its cannon again, followed by missiles. One of the five alien destroyers died, becoming drifting flotsam in the dark of space.

  A Mortek destroyer succeeded in firing a single barrage at Skadi. The massive energy beam burned through the human ship’s hull, exposing a large swath of decks, cabins and compartments to the frozen dead of space. Luckily, neither the engines nor the bridge suffered any critical damage.

  Odin and the damaged battleship Skadi finally passed the kill zone and ran for the gate. Two ships of Vice-Admiral Weiskoff’s fleet remained, leaving a drifting homage to two species at war. One last barrage from the trailing Mortek ships burned hulls and destroyed external apparatus. But the two remaining human survivors succeeded in escaping, fleeing to and into the Bridgelen gate.

  Aboard the Star Killer

  Star Killer’s captain and flotilla commander was not looking forward to his conversation with War as he ordered his communicator to contact Ravage Maker. Once his communicator contacted the flagship and War came online, a nervous Mortek captain began.

  “My liege.”

  “What news?”

  “We engaged the fleeing aliens. We succeeded in destroying three of their ships and crippling another.”

  “The largest one?”

  “It escaped, My Liege. Along with a crippled secondary ship.” The captain cringed at fearing what was to come. But to his surprise, no recriminations came.

  “Did the large ship fire its cannon?”

  “Yes, My Liege. Twice. Two shots, two kills. A cruiser and a destroyer.”

  “Did you collect sensor data?”

  “Per Science’s command, we monitored both shots.”

  “Send all pertinent information to Science.”

  “Immediately.”

  “What are your losses?”

  “Three cruisers, one destroyer.”

  “Then you still command Star Killer, four destroyers and eight frigates.”

  “Yes, My Liege.”

  “Pursue them. They are heading to the hub of their civilization. Our spy drones report that from there they can reach the seat of their power and government. Stop them from reaching their home base. At any cost.”

  “Understood.”

  “Then, guard the gate leading to the alien military center. Reinforcements are coming. I will be sending you Third Fleet.”

  “At your command, My Liege.”

  Once the communication with his leader ended, the Star Killer captain and flotilla commander ordered his ships to enter the gate and pursue the fleeing aliens.

  Sasania Sniper Team

  Dark of night. Dew lightly coated ground and plants alike. Everything showed as sparkling green through night vision goggles. Lance Corporals Latif and Ghali slithered around the last boulders at the base of the mountain and paused at the edge of the neglected wheat fields separating them from the domes.

  Using single-handed sign language, Latif checked his spotter’s status. Again, by single hand, Ghali returned the ‘ready’ sign. Carefully parting the wild wheat, keeping completely pressed into the soggy ground, Latif reached his left hand out, pulled his right knee up until it was waist-high and pressed the heel into the damp soil. With elbows, chest, belly, hips and knees firmly pressed to the ground, he pulled and pushed himself half a body-length. Repeating the motion with alternate hands and feet, he achieved another half a body-length. The sniper held a full minute and repeated the double motions for another body length.

  Ghali belly crabbed the exact path as Latif.

  Part the wheat stalks. Crab, wait, crab, wait a minute. Repeat. Snipers and spotters spent years learning stealth and patience with Latif and Ghali being together for many of those years. They moved like a slow, efficient machine, no rush, no loss of focus. Just part the wheat stalks. Crab, wait, crab, wait a minute.

  Six hours later the two infiltrators reached an indentation behind a large boulder. Staying completely motionless, except for their eyes, they monitored the activity, tracking guard rotations, guard patterns and general movement.

  Yeni Persia’s star broke the horizon, bathing everything in the golden morning glow. Labor Morteks began their work day, moving through the tunnels connecting the domes. Variously, they harvested humans, fed queens or monitored the eggs.

  The two Sasanian soldiers saw none of this. What they did see was army Morteks patrolling the parameter and inner grounds, mostly by rote, going through the motions.

  Latif and Ghali pulled dry rations, ate and prepared to settle in, ready to pass the day alternately sleeping and guarding.

  Night came. Both prepared for their individual rolls. Latif unslung his scoped sniper rifle, flipped open the double legs and carefully went through the setup routine. With a final check and a view through the scope to verify his lines of sight, he hand-signaled the ‘ready’ sign.

  Ghali had been going through his own ritual, shedding all wasted weight, checking his camera and drill equipment. He returned his own ‘ready’ sign. Latif signaled ‘go’.

  Again, parting the neglected wheat, Ghali began his crawl towards one of the edge domes
.

  Latif, for the first time in a day and night, used his implanted coms and opened a channel to squad base. “Moving in,” he sub-vocalized.

  “Overwatch active,” came the reply.”

  Latif knew that meant that both Wadji and Jabour stood guard, prepared to lay down covering fire, if needed.

  Ghali crabbed on. Fifty meters and an hour later he came to the edge of his concealment. He subvocalized “Here,” and got “Hold” in response. Ghali waited, supposing that Latif was tracking guards, allowing them to clear.

  “Four minutes. Go.” Ghali heard the command.

  Still in his ghillie, he raced to the dome, dropped to his knees and stayed close, effectively looking like just another pile of brush. Carefully pulling his drill, pre-fitted with an extended bit, he began drilling a hole about chest height. Being a piece of equipment meant for stealth and clandestinity, the only noise made was the grinding of the bit against the unknown dome material.

  Thirty seconds later, with the hole punched through, Ghali inserted the snake lens of the camera, flicked on its small screen and proceeded to twist the flexible fiber-optic cable as he recorded a full scan of the dome’s interior.

  What he saw made his skin crawl. A giant bug, four times as big as any they’d seen, squatted in the middle of thousands of pods. Its thorax and head looked just like the other bugs’ but the abdomen was something entirely different. Its huge, unwieldy size resembled a small blimp lying on the ground. The rear-most seemed to be some kind of sphincter muscle. As Ghali watched the screen, a slime-covered pod pushed from the abdomen through the rear opening and gently oozed to the dome floor. A normal bug raced over, gently picked up the pod and set it in a vacant space. Then, using some sort of cloth, it carefully wiped off the slime, laid its tongue on the soft shell and held the position for a few moments. Seemingly satisfied, it returned and waited with others for the next pod to drop.

  After hearing “Three minutes,” over his implanted Wi-Com, Ghali quickly and quietly extracted the lens, powered down, packed up and dashed back to the comfort of the wild wheat.

  “Sending packet,” Ghali sub-vocalized.

  “Acknowledged.” After a moment, he heard, “Received.”

  “Moving to target two.”

  Ghali crab-crawled through the wheat until he faced a second exterior dome. Then the exercise repeated. Again, without incident, he retrieved and sent critical information to the squad base. It matched the first data packet.

  “External domes appear to be duplicates. Attempting egress to center dome.”

  “Stay alert, overwatch. I want my spotter back in one piece.”

  “Always, True Shot.”

  Instead of returning to hide in the wheat, Ghali lay down and pressed up against the dome. Carefully, using his sense of feel, he insured that his Ghillie completely covered his form. He waited. He heard the ‘go’ command.

  Staying low, he dashed the twenty meters to the central dome.

  “In view,” he heard through his implant.

  Again pulling out his equipment, Ghali went through the procedure of collection intel for the third time. What he saw on the viewer made him gag and almost vomit. Shell-shocked men, women and children huddled nakedly in singles and groups. Many rocked, held each other. Others cried, moaned or mewed. Three bugs grabbed an overweight woman and dragged her out. During the process, the pitiful sounds of forlornness increased in volume.

  Not being able to take anymore, he withdrew the flexible lens, sent his data packet and packed up. Just as he finished, he heard, “Drop.”

  He did. Lying on his side, he pressed his entire body as deeply as he could into the crevice where the dome met the soil. Slowly, Ghali slid his arm up to grab the grip of his pistol, the only weapon he had.

  Sighting through his scope, Latif watched the solitary four-legged horror walk towards and past his spotter. He sighed with relief. But then the bug stopped and rotated his thorax ninety degrees to stare at the out-of-place mound of vegetation that pressed against the dome. Rounding to bear, he took two four-legged steps towards the strange bush and died.

  Latif saw the stop, look and approach. With no other option, he fired. The fifty caliber, hollow-point shell left the silenced muzzle at seven-hundred meters per second and slammed into the body of the bug with more than twelve thousand foot-pounds of force.

  Ghali heard the approaching creature and stopped breathing, worked at slowing his heart rate. He heard it go past then return. Then he heard a body hit the ground and a strange, alien scream.

  “Move,” Came through his Wi-Com.

  Staying hunkered down, he hustled towards the external dome.

  “Drop.”

  Ghali dropped and became a pile of brush, still three meters from the dome. He waited.

  “Run!”

  Ghali rose and sprinted towards the wheat field. Multiple aliens opened up with energy rifles. Many began to fall as two riflemen and one sniper blasted away, killing everything they could. Ghali made the dome. Using it for cover, he squatted for a moment, set up his flight path and sprinted for the field.

  Lance Corporal Ghali, spotter and friend of Lance Corporal Latif, never made it. He died from an energy hole burned through his ghillie, his back and clear through his front. Falling forward, he landed spread-eagled, a smoldering corpse, unmoving, stone dead.

  “Latif froze, just stared at his dead friend.

  “Move, soldier!” he heard shouted over his implant. “Now Mister!”

  Being a professional and a soldier, Latif moved quickly and invisibly through the wheat, reaching the mountain base in less than two minutes. Once Ghali fell, Wadji and Jabour had quit firing, hoping to hide the squad’s location. But they stood ready to protect their lone survivor, if needed.

  Latif slunk to the boulders concealing his team, snuck around and joined his squad.

  “Grieve later, Lance Corporal. Eyes up!” First Sergeant Boulos commanded. “We got the intel. Already sent to H-Q. We’re gone. Move out, people! Now!”

  Having previously packed up and loaded, the now six-man squad tromped back into the mountains and moved north to their next surveillance post.

  Suichuu-Shigai

  Two despondent Nye-Nippon leaders stood at the back of the surveillance dome and watched a hundred operators manipulate four thousand drones. On the large viewing screen, Chamberlain Demura and Taishou Suzume saw the videos jump from city to city, but all displaying the same. Alien assault vehicles landing, hundreds of four-legged insect-like creatures pouring from those ships and establishing defensive zones. In a few of the cities, some citizens hadn’t fled. The heavily armed aliens quickly dispatched those, turning them into quivering, slobbering casualties of the alien invasion.

  Suzume and Demura knew that those hapless victims would soon become food for the conquers.

  “Same as Sasania.”

  “And it will only get worse. At least we had prior warning. Time for some preparation.”

  “Yes. At least our people have a chance at survival. For how long, only the Gods know. But a chance.”

  “Have you talked with Shuhan Oishi, Taishou? Gotten an update on the Nightshades?”

  “Yes. They are aboard Minke. They should be landing within two days of the invasion.”

  “Well, between our drones and the Nightshades, we should be able to gather enough intel for a decent counter-strike.”

  “Is the emperor watching, Chamberlain?”

  “Yes. He and his counselors are in the palace’s main viewing room. They’re watching what we are watching.”

  “It must be hard for the Emperor, watching his cities and subjects die, being overrun by this alien invasion.”

  “Truth be told, I’ve been wakened many a night by His Highness wandering the palace. Sleepless, just wandering.”

  “Sad.”

  “Have you heard from your daughter, Keiko?”

  “No, nothing. She’s smart. Captain Marston is resourceful. I’m sure she is tucked
away in some place safe. Probably a beach with a big hotel. If she does need to run, Marston has a good ship. Griffin has a good reputation. She’ll be alright.”

  Chamberlain Demura wondered who Taishou Suzume was trying to convince. Him or himself.

  “Now we wait and watch.”

  “Now we wait and watch.”

  Aboard the World Tamer

  The captain of the assault carrier watched the invasion from his command stool. Four legs with magnetized boots stopped him from floating away. Every screen displayed the same. His assault craft landed, troops deployed and found no soft skins.

  “Sensors, is that correct? All cities are empty of soft skins?”

  “Almost all, Captain. It seems that there has been previous notice. From Nest One.”

  “Somehow, Nest One is able to send messages to this planet, soon to be Nest Two. Communications.”

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “Contact War on Ravage Maker. Apprise him of this new development.”

  “As you order, Captain.”

  The captain of World Tamer waited. Finally Communications announced, “Captain, War is available.”

  Facing his personal monitor, Captain began, “War. We have landed the first assault craft. It appears that all of the cities which we targeted have been abandoned.“

  “Where did the soft skins flee to?”

  “That is unknown, at this time. We are circling the planet, attempting to ascertain the locations of the new settlements.”

  “We need to find them. We need the food stuffs. And we need the labor force.” War paused.

  “If the soft skins have fled and hid, we will need to find them and put them under control. We will need more ground troops. And tracking squads. I will send Third Fleet’s assault carrier. We will blanket the planet with assault ships and root out the soft skins.”

  “I shall await their arrival. Will you be sending a ground commander?”

  “Yes. That is a very good recommendation. A ground commander will be present to control both assault forces. You will answer to him for any aerial needs he requests.”