“I was wondering what was taking so long, but from the pheromones in the air I can guess,” Krom said gruffly as both I and Yasu blushed. Krom grinned.
“I better go and get suited up then,” Yasu said
“See you later, love, and don’t do anything stupid.”
She turned, looked back at me and marched up to me with a rigid finger. “Me, do anything stupid? Have you seen our battle plan? It’s the stupidest, craziest, most reckless thing I’ve ever seen, and because you made it, and I know how stubborn you are, I expect it to damned well work.” She ended with a smile, grabbing my chest plate and jumping up to plant a kiss on my face before she turned and walked away.
I couldn’t help but grin as I watched her go.
Back to Sol
For the next few hours, everything was a rush as I made my way onto the bridge. The wormhole generators were in the final hours of charging.
“All right, run final checks on all systems and everyone to check their positioning,” I broadcasted to every ship commander as the one-hour mark approached.
Captains across the fleet ran the checks, greening up when they were ready.
Twenty minutes to go, and every ship had run their final tests.
“Bring everyone to pre-jump readiness,” I said to Rick, who nodded, making sure everyone was ready.
I felt the now familiar hum of the wormhole generators as they finished charging. The counter hit zero, and the fleet created a mass wormhole.
“Engaging worm jump!” Helm called out as we orbited the event horizon. All of the ships lined off Resilient as we neared the peak.
“Changed over to Sol system chart,” Sensors said as the map shifted. The shields waited to change over from adjusting to the magnetic forces from Chaleel system to Sol’s for optimum output.
Helm guided us past the event horizon. There was a feeling of nothing.
“Configuring shields,” Shields said as they changed from Chaleel’s presets to a slightly modulated version of the presupposed positioning of the planets, sun, and ourselves. At this point, we were at our most vulnerable. We had limited to no shields and didn’t have any sensor readings.
“Sensors, remember non-active systems! We don’t want them pinging us,” I said in a tone which carried as Sensors worked through the limited information each ship was receiving through their passive sensors.
“Shields modulated,” Shields said as Sensors updated the plot with the planets that the shield operators had to compensate for.
Helm and Nav coordinated with the other ships to make sure that they stayed in formation by using just their maneuvering thrusters. The initial velocity we had entering the wormhole was now cut off as we cruised in-system.
“Release them,” I said. The combined arms officer knew what I meant as they talked into their microphone.
“Phase one is good. No failures,” the sensors officer said, meaning that there was nothing in immediate weapons range. He remained focused, however, not even turning around as I relaxed minutely, still watching the basic plot of Sol system as it filled with data, much slower than when we used our high-powered sensor arrays. If we had used them, the enemy would’ve seen us as fast as we’d see them, even when we were coming from the farthest out jump point possible.
I looked to the two eclipse ships. They looked like damned big freighters, much like the ones that were carrying recruits to Parnmal.
The only major differences were ports that went diagonally through the freighter’s cargo areas for fighters. No real offensive weaponry other than light cannons and a half dozen missile ports. Though it was covered in the newly developed Personal Defense Systems, or PDS.
Felix had looked at the current laborious PDS and in a strongly worded memo expressed their absolute stupidity. They could hit a dime five million kilometers off, but it took them an impossible amount of time to get on target. They had limited arcs due to their bulky design, took up a ton of power and were, in Felix’s mind, “Complete and utter fucking garbage; I now see why people need so few missiles.” His exact words. So he’d gone and taken the tracking and aiming system and upgraded it with Resilient in the time we were in Parnmal. He hadn’t completed the new system until a few weeks ago, but it was so simple he’d been able to cover the eclipse freighters with them.
They were essentially up-scaled Gatling guns that shot a seventy-five caliber round with a highly advanced targeting system.
Being the defense for the fleet wasn’t these freighters’ primary role. No, their primary role was to carry the seven wings of ten fighters into battle.
The fighters had stretched their legs as we had traveled. Most of the fleet tried to catch a glimpse of the fighters, who were elegant and precise with their movements. Rick told me applications to be fighter pilots had skyrocketed.
I focused on the main screen. Now it’s time to see if it’ll be enough.
Bit by bit, the map filled with information until all that was left was what was in Earth’s orbit.
“Picking up a structure with massive power output,” came from the sensor pit.
“I believe I have an orbital station; size, five kilometers long. It is hexagonal, belling out a third of the way down before belling down again, thinner than the other side of the station and still mostly scaffolding for the station to grow on. There’s two factory ships at each end and another two on either side of the protrusion. It looks like they’re attached to the structure,” the voice continued as the structure filled the plot.
“Well, it looks like we’re looking at our training facility,” I said as more than one pair of hard eyes stared at what had once been our prison.
“I have confirmed weapons signatures. It’s also got weaponry batteries,” the sensor commander said after checking another operator’s screen.
“Control the orbitals, you control the population,” someone said through gritted teeth from the pits. This got annoyed grunts in return, the most violent from the Sarenmenti and Kuruvians, who both believed in fair fights.
“Ship readings!” a sensor operator yelled and everything became business again.
I checked the status of the Mechas that I’d put on thirty percent readiness.
“Reading a battle cruiser—make that two—three destroyers, eight cruisers, and four corvettes,” the chief said as other operators added their findings.
“I have another battle cruiser.”
“Two more destroyers.”
“Three more corvettes.”
“Two here.”
“One.”
“Two more.”
“Keep scanning. I want to know if there’s anything else lurking out there,” I said.
The sensors officer compiled all of the data from every ship, organizing it, and then funneled it back out. It was mostly automated, but he was there to make sure there weren’t any overlap or issues.
So far we had three battle cruisers, five destroyers, eight cruisers, and twelve corvettes. Plus the incomplete training station.
“What’s the situation like on the ground?” I didn’t want to know, but I had to. It took a few minutes before anything concrete came back.
“Crater readings over southern Japan, the United States, Russia. Europe’s mostly gone. China’s no more. Water levels have risen three feet; massive flooding on every land mass.” The sensor commander’s voice was dull and flat, professional. It was the only way they could get across what they were saying, obvious emotion hidden behind their words. The bridge was silent as we glided into the system.
Even the Kuruvians and Sarenmenti were quiet, no doubt thinking on the state of their own planets.
“The time for remorse will be later. For now, we have a mission to complete and our home world to rescue.” I left behind my emotions and became Salchar, the commander of the Free Fleet.
I looked at the clock on my view screen. It was set to a thirty-nine hour day, what the Union had used as a general time, which our bodies naturally adjusted to without time keep
ing. They’ll be getting their instructions now. I sat on my bridge in my Mecha, wishing I could be with my men, hurtling toward the enemy.
***
Henry couldn’t help but grumble good-naturally about the oncoming battle.
About to go into battle against a heavily outnumbered enemy, check. Flying toward them like idiots, check. Got the best job in the universe. Well, the food could be better, Henry mused as he grinned. No matter how much he complained about the uncomfortable ride, or the fact that his padding was gone in all the wrong places, or that he wished he went to the bathroom, it was all for show. He lived for this, for charging the enemy. He would’ve gone into hell if James told him, strapped naked to a rocket.
Which I pretty much did when we took Parnmal. He shook his head as he looked to his fellow Commandos.
Each was complaining about something or, what would seem as outrageous to anyone not in the military, playing games, sleeping, or watching TV.
Salchar had okayed hacking a satellite to get all the current information on the Syndicate’s and Earth’s activities. With all of that information came television and movies that none of the Commandos had seen from some kind soul who had routed them to the shuttles via tight beam laser.
Currently, there were a group of Commandos of every race watching a projected version of an action movie, with all of the action stars basically just blowing shit up.
Henry grinned as one of the younger humans, about fourteen, tried to impress the great value and battle worthiness of Chuck Norris, with such choice phrases as: a snake bit Chuck Norris and after three days of excruciating pain, the snake died. The humans laughed as the rest asked what a snake was.
The look on the kid’s face as he tried to explain it was priceless.
He was saved by Salchar, who came through every HUD, data pad, and earpiece.
“This is Commander Salchar. I know that over the last year and half, we’ve gone through a rough and terrible journey, but today we’ll claim back some of what was taken from us. As you all hurtle toward the enemy like the maniacs you truly are”—James grinned in a way that acknowledged that he and they were in the same club of maniacs, which drew whoops from the troops in the hold, along with Henry, who grinned—“the fleet is going to come in behind you. We’ll breach the vessels of the Syndicate, allowing you to board their vessels. You need to take them apart. I don’t care if you eject their cores or rip out their engines; I want those ships dead. For those of you who will hit the station, there are orbitals attached to the station. Taking those out is your top priority. The fleet, once we fire on the Syndicate vessels, will hold around Earth. Once your shuttles have dropped you off, they’ll pick up the second wave and land us on the station to assist in clean-up.
“Don’t kill the personnel of the Syndicate ships if you can help it. But this is our planet here, so if they aren’t cooperating, deadly force is authorized. We will have a full communications push as we go live. The lives of Earth and of this fleet are in your hands, Marines. Now show me what Armored Marine Commandos can do!”
Cheers rose again from the throats of the men around him, hungry and deadly cheers that sounded more like the baying of wolves for blood than a noise that came from a human, Sarenmenti, Avarian, or Kuruvian’s mouth. As for the rest of them, their videos stopped and Henry’s kept going.
“To the shuttle wing commanders, CAMC, and battalion commanders: you will have to organize on the move who is to take Big Bertha and who are to take the supporting forces. I leave it up to your discretion. Good luck and I’ll see you all on the other side.” James gave a solemn two-finger salute as the video ended and Henry continued toward Earth. Salchar had kept his message slightly cryptic; he didn’t want to say the station and the ships. Even sending the message was a risk, but he wasn’t going to send out his people without letting them know he cared for them and understood what he was sending them into.
“So you were explaining what a snake was, Kalinsky?” Henry prompted.
The kid sighed. Eventually someone showed mercy on him and explained what a snake was as Henry watched, grinning and popping a piece of gum in his mouth. The gum that the gun deck was pumping out was better than any cigarette he’d ever had, and it didn’t give him the added issue of having to get his system cleaned by medical on a regular basis.
It was the small things, Henry reflected as he looked around the shuttle. Quite a few of them would die far from home; some just before they could set foot on it.
Changes
Ursht followed Tik, one of the two Kuruvians Salchar had left behind to look after things in his stead. Tak, his partner, was back on AIH. Ursht had even come to call his planet and his system by its acronym: Avar Interi Hermanti was too long of a name.
“These will be the new mines of your people. Right now, there are a group of miners who are already getting stuck in your dense planetary asteroid field. They have a contract to create a base for your people once they’re trained to start.”
Ursht nodded. Salchar and Yasu had pressed a lot of things on him. One was to listen to everyone before making a decision, and to also learn. He’d gotten a sleep training implant and was taking multiple courses to try to make himself as good as possible at his job. It was still difficult to learn everything Salchar and his people knew.
The other tribal leaders said that Salchar was a dictator and, although that was true in some ways, he was only that way because of Avarian traditions.
He has given me and the others under his banner the opportunity to better ourselves and our people, something that no dictator would want. Ursht studied the sky. It was not his first time seeing the asteroid field that orbited his planet. On any given night, the sun reflected off the asteroids, creating a sparkling sky intertwined with the stars of other solar systems.
“Will we be permitted to create planetary rail cannons?” Ursht asked as Tik studied him closer.
“A planet is allowed to add anything that they desire to their own defenses. They will be under the control of the Free Fleet, unless AIH annuls their contract with the Free Fleet.”
Ursht pulled out a data pad and gave it to Tik. “I think that AIH can be a supplier of weapon systems and power systems,” he said as Tik looked over the information.
“These are all very technical things.”
“Yes, which is why we need teaching and much assistance. We will be willing to pay for it. Our resource stockpile is rather extensive.” Ursht lifted his upper lip, a sign of challenge if it quivered, but it remained still, meaning a grin.
“This is all rather thought out.” Tik went over the data pad’s information.
“We have one major resource on this planet, and that’s numbers. We are strong and brave fighters, but that alone will not look after our children in this new multi-world society we have become a part of. We have already made bargains with the Chaleelians for Baroui, their highest yielding crop. We will be dependent on them for a long time until we get some growing towers, which Yasu and other people from Earth have talked about. Resources are a good thing to have, but every solar system is abundant in them. We need something that will make us relevant. Earth has many thinkers and makers. Making power and weapon systems is hard. However, if AIH gets a foothold there, then we will have a ‘one-up’ on them, as Commander Salchar said,” Ursht said.
“There are plans here for engines.” Tik’s hands moved excitedly as Ursht grinned.
“Well, we can’t just be using the same old crappy haulers as before. Chaleel is also moving to producing merchant ships,” Ursht said.
Tik looked to Ursht, who read his hands as excited trepidation.
“Well, me and Tak will be happy to do anything we can to help,” Tik said.
“The terms are set.” Ursht put his forearm forward.
Tik, now knowing the Avarian physical method of agreement, touched his forearm to Ursht’s, both of them lowering their heads till they touched.
They pulled their arms away and raised their heads a
s Tik gave Ursht his data pad.
Ursht knew Tik had been studying AIH culture and interactions, so he knew that neither of them were now capable of breaking their word. Punishment for such a disgrace would be met with death. It was the only way to preserve what little shred of honor that they might have left.
Everything’s by punishment of death. I should really get to changing that too. Ursht made a note, glancing at Tik, who had his data pad out and was pulling up information while talking to Tak.
***
General Carsickle walked through the halls of Matro, or Hall of Leaders in the ancient tongue. His arm was starting to hurt as he walked through the hall; the Chaleelian salute was a simple bicep curl.
He got to the office of the planetary governor without issue. He was checked over by a couple of scanners before he was finally allowed to meet with the governor.
“Ah, General Carsickle, sarchen?” She indicated the rare fruit that lay on her table and stopped him from saluting.
It was rude to not take food in Chaleelian society. There had been a time when Baroui had not covered the majority of the planet and many had been starving. Even now, with plenty of food wastage, refusing food was not socially polite. Overeating was similarly looked down upon.
“Thank you, Governor.” Carsickle took a fruit, taking off its peeling and eating the sticky and spicy fruit. He nibbled on the peeling, which gave a sour taste. Spice and sour tasted sweet and salty to Chaleelians, or so it was believed among the humans.
The governor wrote something down before lying chest first on the upward tilted bed-looking constructs. She indicated for Carsickle to join her; he promptly lay on an opposite Chaleelian version of a chair.
Carsickle never understood why humans sat in such an uncomfortable, rigid position.
“So, I hear you have quite the request to make of me,” the governor said.
Carsickle cleared his throat. “I wish to join the Free Fleet.”
The governor rolled her head in quiet contemplation. “I had the feeling that you might want to. Commander Salchar made quite the impression on you.”
Free Fleet Box Set 1 Page 52
