Although each colony retained its independence, they did join to form an administrative organization, the United Mars Colonial Republic, or UMCR. The UMCR’s primary functions were two meaningful causes. The first was the terraforming of Mars. The second was creating their own military might. It also took on the role of adjudicator of conflicts and dispenser of justice between the families. The first, richest, and most powerful family, the Hightower family, still sat at the head of the board and still held sway over all the rest.
Under this economic-political backdrop, the UMCR scout ship leisurely floated just above Saturn’s rings. The monotonous days passed as the five-person crew drifted weightless, as each struggled to maintain any sense of alertness, struggled to pretend that patrolling this area of dead space had importance.
Captain Abrams had just roused himself from his sleep shift and taken his place in the captain’s chair.
“What have we got today, Sensors?”
“A whole lot of same old, same old, Captain. The gate is quiet. No fast-moving rocks are close.”
“Join the Navy and see the stars. Two more days and our shift is over, people.”
As UMCR Scout Ship 210’s Captain settled in for his turn at overseeing the watch, his sensor operator slammed his drink in its cradle and reached for his console.
“Captain, something just popped up on my screens.”
The captain immediately became focused at his sensor operator’s announcement.
“What have you got, Spaceman?”
“From the readings, a ship. A big one. At first, nothing, then, bam! It showed up.”
“Rerun the timeline. Show me.”
Captain Abrams tapped a button on his own console, mirroring his Sensor’s.
As the specialist described, the video replay displayed an empty space then a ship magically appeared.
“Get eyes on it. Magnify it to the max.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
The operator worked her console. The ship grew in size.
“What is that?” Captain Abrams rubbed his jaw as he asked the rhetorical question.
By this time, the other three members of the crew had worked their own consoles and saw what the captain saw.
“Jeez, Captain. What kind of configuration is that? It’s as big as one of our destroyers. But, I’ve never seen anything configured like that.”
“Everyone, strap in. Sensors, drop a drone. Keep eyes on whatever that is. Pilot, get us behind Titan. Max gees.”
UMCR Scout Ship 210 dropped a surveillance drone. All five members of the scout ship hurriedly strapped in and activated their pressure suits. The pilot focused on his captain. In return, Captain Abrams gave a curt nod. The scout ship went from leisurely floating to a high-Gee acceleration.
Everyone struggled to breathe. They all fought to not black out as the automatic pilot performed a hard turn and a military burn. Eight minutes later, the engines wound down, the ship became ballistic and its crew pulled in large gulps of air, relieved at being able to breathe normally again.
“Comms, send the video back to Mars HQ. Ask for orders.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” After a pause, “Video away, sir. Awaiting further orders.”
“Sensors, what are you picking up?”
“Scanning waves, sir. They appear to be assessing the system.”
“Are they moving?”
“No, sir. Wait! I just picked up a message. It’s in English, sir.”
“What? Play it!”
“Ahoy, the ship. This is Vice-Admiral Weiskoff of the Federacy Space Force. We come in peace. We mean you no harm. Contact your superiors. We wish a conference.”
Everyone on the scout ship looked at everyone else in consternation.
Captain Abrams became the first to act. He tapped an icon on his console and spoke into the mic.
“Received and understood. Forwarding your request, now.”
Home One – Aboard Ravage Maker
War sat on the command stool of his flagship and stared with pride at the almost-completed Fleet Seven. Absentmindedly, he grabbed a bone of meat and slathered it with his tongue, coating it with his digestive juices.
As he waited for the meat to dissolve, he marveled at the blindness and the naivety of the soft skins. For the entire time of the invasion, his builders had been constructing this seventh fleet. And now, it was almost complete.
“Procurement,” the leader of the Mortek invasion effort spoke into his communicator.
Within a few minutes, his procurement advisor deferentially approached, with his head comb flat and vestigial wings withdrawn.
“Yes, My Lordship?”
“Give me a status report on Fleet Seven.”
“We have completed all two-hundred and forty attack ships. They have all passed their flight tests. The same can be said for the sixty-four frigates. All but two of the twelve destroyers have been certified, as have all six of the cruisers.”
“The carrier?”
“Still under construction, My Lordship.”
“Keep progressing on it. It is needed for launching our attack ships. Our dreadnaughts?”
With worry, the Procurement Advisor, responded, “One dreadnaught is performing its final tests, My Lordship. The second one is just coming off the assembly line. The third is still under construction.”
War rapped his claws on the command stool’s console.
“Thirty-two planet cycles of Nest One. You have until then to complete Fleet Seven.”
“As you command, My Lordship.” Procurement said this with a formal nodding of his thorax and head.
“Intelligence.” War raised his voice at this beaconing.
Intelligence rose from his station and approached his superior.
“My Lordship?”
“Where do we stand with our assembled fleet at Nest One?”
“We have the one carrier. It is supported by a single dreadnaught, four cruisers, thirteen destroyers and sixty frigates. There are no attack ships.”
“Procurement, you are to replenish this fleet. It is to be a duplicate of Fleet Seven.”
“But, My Lordship, this cannot be done within the thirty-two cycles.”
Procurement cringed at this rebuttal to his superior’s demand.
“You have done well, so far, Procurement. You are not in danger. How soon can you build up the Nest One fleet?”
“Seventy-two, maybe sixty-four cycles, My Lordship.”
“Sixty-four. I want to begin our counterthrust within sixty-four cycles. There will be no postponement. Is that clear, Procurement?”
“Completely, My Lordship.”
“You may leave.”
Procurement raced from the bridge, stressed and worried at the near-impossible task which his superior had assigned.
“Intelligence, what is your assessment on the soft skin response when we attack with two full fleets?”
“Based on our current intelligence, this arm of their Federacy will be overrun with ease, almost no casualties. Foolishly, the soft skins have left Bridgelen empty. It is not until we attack Cencore that we will meet any resistance.”
“Our cruisers. The ones that they stole and installed jump drives. How much of a problem will they be?”
“Our nuclear missile production is running at its maximum. By the time we are ready, we will have hundreds, if not a few thousand of them to counter anything which those jump ships can attempt.”
“I have been thinking. The way that the soft skins used mine fields for the defense of Corrinar and Arum was an excellent plan. We will do the same. Take twenty-four percent of the nuclear missiles and convert them to space mines. Have them self-propelled and under remote control.”
“I understand, My Lordship. You wish a cloud of nuclear mines to surround our ships as we press forward.”
“Yes, Intelligence. We will blow those galling jump ships into space dust.”
Trotzig Medical Center
When First Cruiser and First Pilot
had arrived at the Trotzig spaceport, the Tolimar Defense Force personnel on the parade grounds stopped their activities and watched as the two four-footed, insectoid aliens exited the transport. Upon seeing that Randy Roth and Harriet Gregor-Roth led the two creatures, the hackles on everyone’s neck settled back down.
“No one gave you permission to take a break,” Sergeant Stein bellowed in his most terrifying voice. “The next person I see eyeballing our guests gets night patrol for a month!”
Dropping heads, avoiding their superior’s glare, everyone went back to their training.
Randy, the Lieutenant in Tolimar’s Medical Corps, raised an eyebrow and chin at his friend in arms. Goran returned a smirk and raised his own eyebrows.
Without words spoken, Randy and Harriet led their former enemies into the walled city and towards the medical center. As they passed Trotzig’s people, many pulled away in fear or glared in anger. Randy and Harriet ignored the civilian reaction and finally led their charges to the medical center’s front doors.
The first person they met was Doctor Meyers, the large animal veterinarian.
“Hey, Doc.”
“Hello Randy, Harriet.” Doctor Meyers spoke with deep respect.
“We have arrived, as you requested, Doctor Meyers.”
“Yes. First Cruiser. Thank you for partaking in this test.”
“It is my pleasure, Doctor Meyers. May I introduce you to First Pilot, my immediate subordinate.”
“Pleased to meet you, First Pilot. If you will all follow me, I will take you to my laboratory.”
Everyone followed the veterinarian, now researcher. They reached a work area as large as four regular rooms and mostly barren.
“As you can see, I expected to entertain some Mortek, so I had some walls torn down.”
Meyers approached his work counter which looked like a mad chemist’s lab table. He sat on the only stool.
“No assistants?”
“No, Harriet. Actually, I have a whole asteroid’s worth of assistants. I’m nothing more than a trained monkey doing what Doctor McCauley tells me to do. He does all of the actual research at the shipyards.”
“How do you communicate? Dumb question. Quant-coms. And you use a jump ship to move your results back and forth.”
“Yup. Your father’s personal transport, Halcyon. Now, let’s get started. Oh, by the way, everything is being recorded. Doctor McCauley can’t watch the video in real time as the quant-com bandwidth is too narrow. However, he and his assistants are listening in.”
Meyers brought up a worksheet on his tablet.
“Let’s see. Step one. First Cruiser, will you please order your subordinate to sit on the floor.”
Everyone heard the clacks and clicks then watched First Pilot, without hesitation, collapse his four legs and end with resting his abdomen on the floor.
“Good.”
Meyers reached for a metallic bottle which resembled a miniature fire extinguisher.
“From our research, First Cruiser, all Mortek constantly release a chemical called a pheromone. These pheromones are specific in their use. They cause unquestioned obedience from the subordinates directly under a leader’s control. In this case, First Pilot is your immediate subordinate.”
“Yes, Doctor. That is known. What you call a pheromone is what keeps the Mortek in a complete state of harmony.”
“For this test, we are going to spray the air with a completely harmless mist. If we are right, this mist should neutralize the pheromone which keeps you in complete command of First Pilot. Is that acceptable to you, First Cruiser?”
“Yes, Doctor Meyers. As long as it is understood that this chemical will never be used to destroy the cohesiveness of my colony.”
“We would never do that, First Cruiser. You have my bond,” Harriet forcefully stated.
“You are now protected by the Tolimar Defense Force, First Cruiser. This is simply precautionary research in the case that War decides to attack us again.”
“I understand, Controller Randy. That is why I have given permission for this testing. I understand that you could have forced us into this experiment, but you did not. I honor and respect that you asked for permission first. Doctor Meyers, you may proceed.”
“Here it goes.”
Meyers took the handle of the cylinder and raised the hose with a funnel on its end. Then he squeezed the grip. As the mist blew into the enclosed space, Meyers waved the nozzle high and low, back and forth. Once the container ran dry of the expellant, Meyers replaced the cannister on the counter.
“Let’s wait a moment,” Meyers requested.
Moments passed.
“OK. Now the test. First Cruiser, please order First Pilot to stand and rotate in place for a full circle.”
First Cruiser gave the order.
“Why, First Cruiser? I don’t understand.”
“Because I ordered you too, First Pilot.”
“Yes!” Meyers accentuated his exclamation with a fist pump.
“Did we hear correctly, Quincy? Did First Pilot refuse the order?”
“Yes, Doctor McCauley. First Pilot became confused. We did it!”
“First Cruiser, this means that, if War decides to attack us, we will be able to defend ourselves without having to kill thousands of Mortek.”
“I understand, Second Controller Harriet. You have explained many times that this is the reason for creating this neutralizing mist. This is good.”
“Now, Quincy, we must move on to all levels below First Cruiser. Randy, Harriet, we need you to isolate the pairs, as you did with First Cruiser and First Pilot, then draw samples.”
“We’ve got this, Doc. We’ll get them on a jump ship as soon as possible.”
Ballison – H.E.B. Alliance Spaceport
As soon as Igaklay apprised Mistress Analyn that the wormhole ship and Griffin had reached the Ballison system, she summoned a shuttle and sped to the HEBA spaceport. There, she, Rikka, her eight Guardsmen and Mahajani waited as the two ships approached then landed next to her Mortek frigate. Another eight Guardsmen stood at attention, awaiting their new assignments.
With control jets rumbling as they superheated the tarmac, Griffin thundered in and set down. The Ballisonian wormhole ship, in contrast, came in eerily silent. Its gravity engines didn’t make a whisper as the moth-shaped ship settled on its struts.
The guardsmen stood at attention, their weapons held at-arms across their body. Mahajani sagged under the weight of not being who he used to be and recognizing that he never would.
Analyn, still carrying her worry for her friend and protector, absentmindedly scratched one of her cat’s ears as she waited for the ramps to drop and the crews to exit. Two excited Elonian scientists eyed the new, strange ship in anticipation of their next adventure.
The wormhole ship dropped its ramp first. Captain Long led his crew off the ship. Negiani, in his battle tunic, kept his head, ears, and eyes on a swivel, scanning his surroundings. There followed eight Tolimar militia, complete with chameleon suits, jump packs and weapons.
Krag led his crew and Griffin’s own guardsmen off his ship. Five more people wearing the HEBA uniforms followed. The three groups collected.
“Mistress Analyn.”
“Ambassador Suzume. Welcome home.”
“It is home, isn’t it? I am glad to be back.”
“I see many more warriors. I hope that some are mine.”
“On loan, Mistress. Let me introduce you to the former Tolimar Jump Squad.”
Captain Long nodded to Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez. She turned to her seven subordinates.
“Atten-hut!” Although a woman, her voiced carried the same loud intimidation that all sergeant voices carried. The squad slammed to attention.
“The Sergeant and her squad are temporarily assigned to your command for your trip to Elonia.”
“Are these men and women the same who captured the Mortek command center on Tolimar?”
“They are, Mistress. Your turn, H
awk.”
“Mistress Analyn, may I present Captain Joyce Jewels. She commanded a troop carrier in the Federacy.”
“I am pleased to meet you, Captain Jewels.”
“The pleasure is mine, Mistress Analyn.”
“Welcome aboard Enduring Spirit.”
“Is that what you christened your ship? Enduring Spirit. Very fitting.”
“Thank you, Ambassador. Captain Long, have you named your ship?”
“Actually, Sub-Captain Baker did. Gypsy.”
“Gypsy. A nomadic tribe on your planet of origin, Old Earth.”
“How did you know that?”
“Honorable Vidhee, Sub-Captain. She mindspoke the information to me.”
“Also, a Gypsy is a type of moth. Everyone keeps saying that the wormhole ship looks like a moth.”
“Very apropos. Captain Jewels, we will continue our introductions aboard Enduring Spirit. I am sure that these people have better things to do.”
“Aye, aye, Mistress Analyn.”
“Since Captain Jewels and her bridge crew are permanently assigned to Enduring Spirit, they will need a complete nanite workup.”
“Of course, Preceptor. I will leave that to your capable hands.”
“The same is true for the military contingent, Mistress. However, they will need to have their nanites flushed after they return from your voyage.”
“I understand, Preceptor.”
“I have something else for you, Mistress.”
Krag turned to Griffin and made a ‘come-on’ gesture. Four killer bees drifted from Griffin’s cargo bay and hovered in front of Mistress Analyn.
“We thought that you might want these, Mistress.”
“I absolutely do, Commander. Thank you.”
“Where would like them,” Igaklay asked.
“On my ship, of course, Preceptor. Do I need to recruit pilots, Commander?”
“No, Mistress. Two grounded spacers jumped at the chance to get off Tolimar and back into space. They will also require nanite injections. So did two Elonian warriors. They will not require injections as they have already been inoculated with nanites.”
Future in the Stars Page 16
