M'tak Ka'fek (The T'aafhal Inheritance)

by Doug Hoffman

  Jack smiled, perhaps he has grown a bit wiser—perhaps we all have. “Mr. Taylor, do you remember having a discussion with the ship's AI regarding our shields and the ability to cloak the ship from most electromagnetic radiation?”

  “Yes Sir. I believe that M'tak claimed the ship could all but disappear, like Harry Potter's cloak of invisibility.”

  “Please, Lieutenant, you are on a starship, not a flying broom,” the Captain scolded. At the helm, Bobby leaned over and asked Sandy, “Who's Harry Potter?”

  “Really, Mate? You are such a total science fiction dweeb.”

  “Prepare to activate cloaking mode, Mr. Taylor. M'tak, do you have the vector for a singularity jump home?”

  “Yes, Captain. I have sent the course to the helm. I must say, I am intrigued by your preparations for battle.”

  “There is an old saying among Earthlings: 'The best weapon against an enemy is another enemy.' ”

  “Course laid in, Captain,” Sandy reported from the helm.

  “On my mark and smartly, and don't spare the engines, helm.”

  “Aye aye, Sir!” Sandy and Bobby answered in unison.

  “You may fire, Mr. Bear; Turn on cloaking mode, Mr. Taylor; Helm, put us on course for home.”

  Two alien vessels flared with the harsh radiance of lost antimatter containment as superluminal particles burst into normal space inside their hulls. At his station Bear chuckled. “That just doesn't get old.”

  The massive T'aafhal ship vanished from the converging aliens' sensors, leaving them with only each other to target. As battle erupted between pursuers and interceptors, the M'tak veered away from the conflict, accelerating at 200Gs.

  Third Wave

  A sense of relief spread throughout the Farside control room, jubilant exclamations barely contained. In the darkness, people could be seen pounding each other on the backs, some embracing. Before a full on celebration could break out Ludmilla called for a status check on the other engagements.

  “What is the status of the corvettes? Have they intercepted the three ships that broke off from the first wave?”

  “Colonel, Squadron Commander Melaku reports that they have managed to delay two of the enemy ships, but the third slipped by them and is headed for the Earth-Moon system.”

  Ludmilla's facial expression did not change, she simply nodded. “And the status of Capt. Curtis' frigates?”

  “They are heavily engaged; the enemy is down to four effectives. One of ours, the Chesapeake, has taken significant damage to its shields but is still able to make way.”

  “What is the ETA on the inbound hostile?”

  “Thirty five minutes, Ma'am.”

  “Notify Base Defense. Have them raise the shields and prepare to repel enemy forces.”

  * * * * *

  “I hope these railgun contraptions we rigged up work under combat conditions,” Lem said to his friend. Both wore suits of light space armor—light only in comparison with the Marines' heavy combat armor. Earlier, the power enhancing musculature of the suits helped them load the railgun cannons' heavy magazines full of 10kg metallic slugs. Now they were concealed at a vantage point near the lunar surface where they could observe the defense emplacements directly.

  “Now Lemuel, you know what old Stonewall Jackson used to say: Never take council of your fears,” replied Clem.

  “Yeah. I also remember what H. L. Mencken said: Of all escape mechanisms, death is the most efficient.”

  “Well then we got nothing to worry about—you ain't never been efficient in your whole life.”

  From several points on the rugged landscape that covered Farside base, brief flashes marked the launch of gravitonic torpedoes. Two brilliant explosions spilled across the space above the base—plasma knots detonating on the defensive shields.

  “We got anything on the targeting radar?” asked Clem.

  “Yeah, just letting 'em get a bit closer,” answered Lem. The alien invasion had just become real for the people at Farside.

  * * * * *

  At the Delta Pavonis alter-space transit point the third wave of alien attackers materialized. Eight ships in all, four of a type Earth's defenders had seen before. They were the same as the three ships that made the reconnaissance flight more than two months ago. A pair split off and headed for Mars while the remaining two headed toward the Sun and Mercury.

  The other four ships were not familiar, though their design showed similarities to the smaller vessels. Squat and dark, they looked like a collection of nested sections of pipe with blunt, rounded ends. They were battle cruisers, heavily armed and armored dreadnoughts that dwarfed their lighter escorts.

  Perhaps some of those on board the menacing ships had thoughts of payback—a desire to avenge those of their kind who had perished scouting the system around them. Perhaps not. The creatures called themselves Xoosht. Inhabitants of deep cold methane seas on a distant ice world, the thoughts of the invaders were totally, unknowingly alien. One thing was understood—they had come to erase all life from the solar system.

  A single battle cruiser should have sufficed to eradicate the warm life scum opposing them, four were sent—these creatures believed in overkill. Assuming a diamond shaped formation they set a course for Earth.

  * * * * *

  Beth and her wingman made another close pass of the remaining enemy warship. Its shields were down and it was no longer returning fire. The other ship the corvettes intercepted had already detonated and was now an expanding cloud of gas and debris, though it had not died before taking two of Beth's squadron with it. Beth and her wingman flipped over just in time to see the front end of their target vaporize—a direct hit by an antimatter tipped torpedo.

  “That bâtard étranger is dead in space, Skipper,” Frenchy observed from his seat in front of the Squadron Commander.

  “I'd say so, Frenchy. First Wing, Deloraine, form up on me. We need to go after the one that got by us.” As the wing reformed Beth considered her remaining ships. “Break, break. Bainbridge, you're now wingman for Foscari. Let's tighten up people, that bandit is about to attack our home base.”

  “Second Wing, Deloraine. The last of the enemy's first wave ships is attacking Farside—we need to take it out soonest.” It took nearly five minutes for Beth's message to reach the second wing of corvettes and as long for Lt. Hect's reply.

  “Deloraine, Second Wing. We are headed back to Farside as well. God bless Capt. Vincent and his ferocious vegetables, the enemy fleet that emerged from Beta Comae has been totally destroyed.”

  Beth smiled. She had received the communique from Farside announcing the return of the Peggy Sue but its full meaning had not registered until now. Evidently Billy Ray's mission was successful and her lover was now camped out in a crater on Mercury with a hold full of Triad Guardians.

  Lt. Hect and his wing of corvettes accelerated toward the Moon base. Secretly, he was hoping to arrive before his commander so his as yet unbloodied wing could claim credit for at least one kill.

  * * * * *

  “Come on, Lem, shoot the bastard already!”

  “We may only get one shot at this. I'm waiting to see the whites of their eyes, Clem.”

  “You don't even know if they've got eyes!”

  “OK, OK, I'm firing... salvo on the way. There, are you happier?”

  “Much.” The railgun slugs took about 30 seconds to reach their target. Of the twenty-four slugs fired nineteen missed and two were glancing hits, deflected by the alien's shields. The last three, however, struck home.

  The star bright flare of an antimatter explosion blazed briefly above the Moon's surface. In a cave excavated from the tough lunar rock, a group of Marines looked up through an observation slit.

  “Looks like the Base Defense Force got one,” commented Col. Rodriguez.

  “Yes Ma'am,” agreed GySgt Washington, “Those crazy ex-Army biker dudes nailed the bastard.”

  “Let's hope it's the only one that makes it this far.”

&nbs
p; * * * * *

  The last ship from the first wave of invaders vanished in the star bright glare of detonating antimatter torpedoes. Aware of the new threat, the squadron assumed a blocking position between the on coming third wave of alien battle cruisers and Earth. Only the Maeander was missing. Detached from the main fleet, Maeander was holding position where she had hunted down and destroyed the two damaged alien frigates that fled the first skirmish. This put the lone frigate 20 million kilometers closer to the new enemy ships than its sisters.

  “Captain Curtis, do you see this?”

  “Yes, navigator. I see them.” Damn those puppies are big, Gretchen thought. If they are proportionally more powerful than the smaller ones we are overmatched—frigates against battleships. “Signal Maeander, tell them to fall back and rejoin the squadron.”

  “Aye aye, Captain.”

  As the Maeander reversed course its shields suddenly flared. Two bright pulses and then a ripple of explosions—the antimatter in the ship's remaining torpedoes detonating. The Meander was gone.

  “Shit,” Gretchen said under her breath. These things are going to slaughter us.

  “What do we do, Captain?” asked her XO.

  “Signal the corvette squadron. Order Commander Melaku to bring her entire force forward to support us. We will maintain our present distance from the alien fleet until the corvettes can reinforce us.”

  “And then, Ma'am?”

  “We stand and fight,” she said grimly, and if need be die. What was it that King Leonidas of Sparta supposedly told the 300 on the eve of battle? Prepare for Glory!

  Into the Fire

  “Vegetable Patch, Farside, say again your last.”

  “I said, evidently our warrior plants are one trick ponies, to mangle a metaphor. They say they cannot create another solar laser blast for at least eleven days—something about the photosphere being depleted and the rotational period of the Sun's surface.”

  “Understood, Vegetable Patch, no joy from the Guardians. Be advised, there are a pair of enemy frigates headed your direction.”

  “How well armed are they?”

  “Each at least as formidable as one of ours. I would tell you to try and get the Triads out of the system but you would probably not reach a transit point before being overtaken. I'm sorry Peggy Sue, but you are on your own... Good luck, Captain Vincent. Tropsha out.”

  “Rig the ship for action,” Billy Ray ordered his XO. “Sound general quarters, power up the shields and weapons. We ain't goin' down without a fight.”

  Next to the Captain, Jean-Jacques spoke in French: “Soyons fermes, purs et fidèles; au bout de nos peines, il y a la plus grande gloire du monde, celle des hommes qui n'ont pas cédé.”

  “Sorry, Jean-Jacques, my French is not that good.”

  “Let us be firm, pure and faithful; at the end of our sorrow, there is the greatest glory of the world, that of the men who did not give in.”

  Billy Ray looked at the Frenchman and raised his eyebrows.

  “Charles de Gaulle, a man who also fought to save his people from extinction.”

  “Yeah, well about all we got left now is glory, pardner.”

  “D'accord, mon Capitaine.”

  * * * * *

  As Capt. Curtis gathered her remaining forces for a final effort to repel the invaders, Ludmilla stood helplessly in the Farside command center. “We destroyed two entire fleets of enemy and still they come!”

  “Some dumb bastards just don't know when they've had their asses kicked,” said TK's gravely voice. He had quietly rolled up next to Ludmilla as the reports of the third wave's arrival came in.

  “TK. You should be in the deep shelters with the others.”

  “Naw, if this is Earth's last stand I want to go out spitin' in the enemy's eye. At least the sons-of-bitches know they've been in a fight.”

  Ludmilla nodded, not daring to speak. So Jack, my love, our reunion is not to be. I waited for you, and I am sorry that I will not be here when you return.

  * * * * *

  “I am ready to create the singularity, Captain.”

  “Proceed, M'tak. Take us home.”

  In front of the ship space dimpled. A reflective doughnut formed that was instantly wrapped in a swirling toroid of stars. The M'tak Ka'fek was sucked through the ring of stars and for the second time creatures from Earth traveled through a wormhole.

  In a matter of seconds, the M'tak Ka'fek was above the plane of the ecliptic, three AU out from the Sun, and in bound for Earth. As with the previous wormhole jump, the ship had been accelerated to nearly 10,000 km/sec and was now decelerating to rendezvous with home base. It would take eighteen minutes for light from their arrival to reach Earth; it would take the ship eight hours to make the docks at Farside.

  Bear raised his nose, as if sniffing the air for the presence of danger. A low growl came from deep in his chest.

  “Captain, there's something weird going on here,” JT reported from his station. “Earth is all messed up. There is hardly any radio traffic and cloud cover is far too dense.” The ship's AI announced, “Warning! hostile forces detected. This system is under attack.”

  “What the...” was all that Jack managed before a torrent of sensor information flooded his mind via the ship's neural link. He quickly sized up the tactical situation. Earth has been attacked! And there are enemy ships spread out across the system. Jack's face turned hard as stone, his eyes went square and his jaw clenched.

  “In our absence, our world has been attack. Moreover, some of the attackers are still here. Crews to your guns, prepare the ship for battle,” announced Jack in a voice heard throughout the ship. Then he quoted a famous Civil War general, William Tecumseh Sherman. “'War is the remedy that our enemies have chosen, and I say let us give them all they want!'”

  Crew and Marines, who had come to the bridge to witness the wormhole jump and the arrival back in the solar system, ran for their stations.

  “Captain, what are your orders?” asked Bear in a low rumble.

  “We have hostiles in three locations, Lt. Bear. Target the two pair of smaller ships headed for Mercury and Mars first, then the larger formation.”

  “Aye aye, Captain. Targeted.”

  “Engage the enemy, Lieutenant.”

  * * * * *

  The Peggy Sue left the crater she had been sheltering in and accelerated toward the pair of alien ships headed her way. In the cargo hold the Guardians were in some form of post attack stupor. Evidently the act of making a star lase took a lot out of the larger than man sized plants. They're probably not even going to know what killed them, Billy Ray thought peevishly. I guess they did do what they came for though—they sent that other fleet straight to hell. Too bad they are all out of star laser voodoo.

  “Captain, we are manned and ready for battle,” reported Lt. Vandersluys, the XO.

  As ready as we'll ever be, given we ain't got hardly any torpedoes. We've got railgun slugs though, maybe we'll get lucky. “Thank you XO,” after two months he still could not pronounce Vandersluys. “Mr. Tanaka, give me an intercept course and send it to the helm.”

  “Aye aye, Sir.”

  “We are going to attack?” asked Elena Piscopia.

  “We can't run fast enough to get away from 'em, Elena, and I'll be damned if I'll be run down from behind like some mangy varmint.” As he was talking Chief Zackly came onto the bridge.

  “Crew's at the ready Captain. Tubes loaded, slugs in the railguns and I had 'em shift as much power to forward shields as possible. Can't them plant things do anything to help?”

  “Evidently not, Chief. It looks like our plant friends brought only one miracle with them.”

  Billy Ray looked at the wizened old sailor who was standing there calmly awaiting further orders. Billy Ray was the Peggy Sue's third captain but there had only ever been one chief of the ship. More than anyone, the Peggy Sue was Hank Zackly's ship and if he wanted to be on the bridge when she went down in a blaze of glory Billy Ray was not
going to deny him. “Chief, I just want to say its been an honor...”

  Before he could complete the sentence, something flared up ahead—two somethings. “Sir! The two hostile ships, they just exploded!” reported the astonished Tanaka. “Something went through their shields like they were not even there.”

  I've seen that before, Billy Ray said to himself, a large smile spreading across his face. I do believe that Captain Jack has returned in the proverbial nick of time. “It looks like our enemy has been removed from the field of battle, Mr. Tanaka. Plot a new course for Farside and home. It appears we have ourselves a second miracle.”

  Dark Lord Rising

  On opposite sides of Earth two events occurred simultaneously, each around eight minutes removed as the photon flies. Ahead on Earth's orbital path, the remaining corvettes joined the larger frigates preparing to make their final stand. “All ships, assume attack formation. We will concentrate everything we have on the nearest alien vessel.” Gretchen grimaced, these might be the last orders I ever issue to the fleet. “On my mark...”

  Space ahead flared brightly.

  What? The nearest alien battle cruiser disappeared in an antimatter fueled cataclysm. As the glare from the explosion faded the second ship in the hostile formation flared, then the third.

  “All Ships, Hold position!”

  As the fourth enemy ship burst in a frenzy of matter/antimatter mutual annihilation, Gretchen had but one thought. Jack!

  * * * * *

  “All hostile vessels destroyed, Captain,” JT verified. “Light from our arrival hasn't even have time to travel that far—they never knew what hit them.”

  Jack commended his gunnery officer. “Excellent shooting, Mr. Bear.”

  JT noticed something new on the sensor displays. The M'tak's sensors could detect the presence of gravitonic drives through alter-space at hyperluminal speeds—much faster than the electromagnetic radiation the Earth forces depended on. “It looks like someone new has joined the party. A ship just emerged from the Beta Comae transit point.”

  “Can you identify the type of ship, Lt. Taylor?”