Battle in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 4)

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Battle in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 4) Page 2

by D Patrick Wagner


  Two hours later, Krag took the floor. “Crewmates. Let’s wind down our lunch. We need to rest, check out Griffin and prepare for our next jump. It will occur in six hours.”

  The next six hours proved to be a time of rest and relaxation. Griffin displayed no ill-effects from her jump. Nothing needed repair. Krag and Keiko spent their time in the Captain’s quarters while Princess Analyn and her maids occupied their time in the Executive Suite. Sir Mahajani trained with the eight Royal Guardsmen, showing them what it meant to be a Guardsman Commander and an arena champion. Mack and Sue, having bridge duty, sat and talked, all the while becoming closer. The two Elonian doctors continued to quiz Igaklay on all things Ballisonian.

  Just before Griffin’s second jump, Commander Tarunga called.

  Elonian Palace

  Commander Tarunga, accompanied by no one, strode up the steps to the great doors of Elonia’s Royal Palace. Carrying Princess Analyn’s letter and box containing the silver orb, the Royal Guard commander searched. Finding Johi, he waved the servant over.

  “Johi, please inform King Kaporine that I carry a secret, critical message from Princess Analyn.”

  Johi did the Elonian freeze/unfreeze.

  “The King will arrive shortly. May I get you a refreshment?”

  “Thank you, but no, Johi. I will just wait here. You may return to your tasks.”

  “Very good, Commander.” Johi saluted and left. A short time later, King Kaporine descended the majestic, icy stairs which led to the Royal Quarters and approached the nervous commander.

  “You have a message from Anyl?”

  “Yes, My King.” Tarunga handed the letter to his king.

  Eyeing the box under commander Tarunga’s arm, he took the sealed letter, broke it open and read.

  “She says that we must go to the throne and have no one present. Strange. Why?”

  “I can only show you, My King.”

  “Let us get it done, then.” As King Kaporine took his first step towards the throne room, Johi raced over, pulled the doors open, stepped to the side and bowed.

  “Thank you, Johi. Please close the doors and insure that no one enters.”

  “Your wish, My King.”

  The two watched the large doors quietly shut, turned and walked the grand floor, approaching the throne. Upon closing the distance, Commander Tarunga stood to the side, holding the communication equipment as though he held a package of fragile glass.

  “My King, if I may, I need to touch your throne.”

  “Now you have me intrigued, Commander. Go ahead.”

  Setting the box down and opening the lid, both stared at the floating ball.”

  “Now I am very intrigued. What next?”

  “I’m not exactly sure,” a very nervous Commander answered.

  Tarunga lifted the lid to the throne’s communication console and studied it until he found a bare, metal plate. Reaching into the box, again causing the fur on his hands to rise, he removed the silvery ball. Carefully he placed it on the metal spot he had selected.

  Both startled as they watched the orb liquefy and absorb into the communication housing. They continued to watch until the entire liquid silver disappeared. Then they watched a while more.

  “Now what?”

  “Now your daughter has commanded me to talk to the throne.”

  “Talk to the throne?’

  “That is her command, My King.”

  “Well, let’s continue with our little game. Continue.”

  “Princess Analyn? Can you hear me?”

  Wry confusion flowed across King Kaporine’s furry face.

  “Yes, Commander Tarunga. I hear you very clearly.”

  “King Kaporine is here, also.”

  “Father?”

  “Yes, Little Fire,” the surprised king answered.

  “Please, Father, we must keep this conversation secret.”

  “I will keep this a secret. Why?”

  “Because I am one hundred and fifty trillion locts from Elonia.”

  “How is that possible? We are talking as though you are here, with me.”

  “This is Ballisonian technology, Father. That is why we must keep this secret.”

  Trying to fathom this new turn of events, King Kaporine responded, “Let me get your mother.”

  “Just Mother. No one else can know. Especially not Daruke!”

  “He is your brother!”

  “Yes. And he is the reason I am in this mess. You can’t tell anyone! Just Mother.”

  Using mindspeak, Analyn’s father summoned his wife.

  “Is that what Commander Tarunga installed in the throne?”

  “Yes, Father. It turns out that the Ballisons, actually a Ballison Artificial Intelligence, has been monitoring Griffin with a device such as the one that is now in the throne. The A.I.’s name is Igaklay, by the way. Igaklay, say ‘hello’ to my Father.”

  “Greetings, King Kaporine.”

  “And a royal welcome to you, Igaklay. Do you have a title or an honorific?”

  “No, Your Majesty. Just Igaklay. Or as Sir Mack calls me, Iggy.”

  “Then I am not talking directly to my daughter?”

  “Not exactly. You are communicating with me. I am passing that communication to the Princess. When she speaks, the process is reversed.”

  Hearing the great doors open and shut, the Commander and the King turned to see Queen Naliana rush to her husband.

  “Anyl?”

  “Hello, Mother.”

  “Oh, my girl. How are you doing?”

  “A lot better, since I can talk with you, Mother, Father.”

  “We’re doing everything we can to fix this problem, dear. But your brother set an ice flow in motion that is going to be hard to stop.”

  “I know, Father. Sometimes Daruke doesn’t look to the future when he wants something now. Be that as it may, his actions may be beneficial for the Kaporine Clan and Elonia.”

  “Why is that, Dear?”

  “Igaklay has invited us to Ballison. And he is willing to share Ballison technology with the Humans.”

  “So, if Clan Kaporine continues to honor our trade agreement, then we closely bond with Clan Gregor. This in turn, makes our clan the bridge between Humans and Elonians.”

  “Exactly, Father.”

  “Further, six clans have shown that they will not honor the trade agreement. They did this through voting for the impounding of Griffin, the eraser of Legate Buster’s core and the imprisonment of the Humans. This is going to put some knots in some tails. How can we help you, now, Little Fire?’

  “Keep our communications secret. Keep all of us, our family, our Clan from harm.”

  “I think I will speak before the senate. Announce that you and Griffin are on your way to the Human worlds.”

  “That will be good, Father. And, maybe, help Captain Kakkarna. Say that I coerced him into letting us go.”

  “I will do that.”

  “I will keep you updated as things progress.”

  ‘When will we hear from you, again, Anyl?”

  “Whenever you wish, Mother. Just come to the throne room and contact Igaklay. He will summon me.”

  “Thank you for this wonderful gift, my daughter. I have missed you.”

  “And I, too. I must close the communication now. I am needed.”

  ‘Of course, Little Fire. Stay safe. Until we talk again.”

  “Until later, Father, Mother.”

  The Elonian King and Queen waited in silence, listening for any more communiqué from their daughter. None occurred.

  “This changes everything, Naliana.”

  “Yes it does, Waahai, yes it does.”

  “Igaklay, are you still there?”

  “Always, King Kaporine.”

  “May I talk to you, even when Princess Analyn is not involved?”

  “Yes you may, King Kaporine. But not about anything which will bring harm or discomfort to Griffin’s Den or my Overseers.”

  �
��Who are your overseers?”

  “Captain Marston and Ambassador Suzume”

  “What about Sir Mack and Dame Sue?”

  “They are two high-ranking Den members, Your Highness.”

  “I would never do or say anything which would harm the Griffin Den or any of my people, Igaklay. You have my Royal Vow. Thank you for this wonderful gift, Igaklay.”

  “You are most welcome, Your Highness.”

  The King and Queen of Elonia just looked at each other in wonderment.

  Onboard Heimdallr

  The three Heimdallr crewmates stood, bookended by Doctor McCauley and Lieutenant Hartman. All five viewed the Federacy scout ship, with its new bulge on the stern and the cannon short of the bow. The connecting electronics formed a new ridge running the spine of the shop.

  “True to your word, Doctor. Installed within a week.”

  “Thank you, Captain. It was a fun project. Had some unique problems.”

  “It looks cleaner than I imagined. It passes the sight test. Have you modeled the aerodynamics?”

  “Yes, Captain Scott. The Bernoulli’s principle, the static lift ratio over the entire ship, is only six percent less than before our modifications. You should experience very little drag, if any at all.”

  “Then she’s ready.”

  “For a test flight.”

  “You heard the man. Peeps, get her ready.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” both of his crewmates responded in unison.

  Lieutenants Torres and Brooks raced into their ship, relieved to finally get back to doing what they loved to do.

  “Who’s coming?”

  “Both of us, Captain. Lieutenant Hartman will monitor the fission drive. I will be on the bridge.”

  “Has anyone gotten approval for take off? Lieutenant?”

  “You have been approved for the test run. Both by the shipyards and Odin.”

  “Then, let’s try out our new cannon.”

  “Permission to come aboard.”

  “Permission granted.”

  Having already tested one X-cannon capable ship, Doctor McCauley set up the same test satellite, complete with the algae canister.

  Heimdallr took off, killed the satellite, killed the algae and returned with no fireworks show or impressive display. Back in the bay, Heimdallr again rested on her landing pads. Again the five stood outside the scout ship and looked at the additions.

  “Lieutenant Torres, any issues?”

  “I haven’t fired any weapons in years. Getting back into the rhythm took a little time. Took too long to target the satellite. But that is on me. No issues, Captain.”

  “Lieutenant Brooks?”

  “Feels only a little different. Not much. Just a hair sluggish, Captain. Top heavy during rolls. Not a problem. I just need to practice a little. Get my reflexes to match the new mass and distribution. No problems here, Captain.”

  “I concur. Doctor, Lieutenant, I accept these modifications, pending one more week of testing.”

  “Excellent! Sign here.” Doctor McCauley held out his tablet. Captain Scott pressed a thumb. Holding out the tablet to Lieutenant Hartman, the Doctor waited for another thumb print. Once done, he pressed an icon.

  “Signed, sealed and delivered.”

  “The credits are being sent,” Lieutenant Hartman joked.

  Onboard Odin

  Vice-Admiral Weiskoff looked down the ellipsoid table at the eleven men and two women politely waiting. He signaled to his steward.

  “Please, everyone, order drinks and breakfast. Lunch will be coming at thirteen hundred hours. Dinner if need be.”

  Everyone ordered, mostly something light. All ordered wake-up drinks. When everyone received their requests and settled in, Weiskoff again took center stage.

  “Looking around the table, I see a varied group of people with varied skills and varied desires. But we all have one goal. Saving as much of humanity as we can. And that is why we are here. So let’s get started. First, Corrinar. Our first line of defense. Mr. Clark. Where do we stand?”

  “Vice-Admiral. First, I want to thank Lieutenant Hartman and Engineer McCauley for the designs and management of our defensive weapons. That being said, I would like to have Lieutenant Hartman give us the latest numbers on our battle platforms.”

  “The platforms. A brief review. Each platform has a single X-cannon and fission generator, the same size as on Odin. Surrounding that is an array of anti-missile Gatling guns. All covered with reflective armor. From our Intel, that won’t stop those alien lasers and particle beams, but it will slow them down enough for us to get off a few shots. All platforms have A.I. controllers, all linked to a central A.I. that is currently being housed on an asteroid. Communication lag time is less than a second.”

  “Yes, we’ve all read the specs. How many?” Weiskoff interrupted.

  “The first two hundred are in place, Sir. Three hundred more are currently traveling through the gate. The last two-fifty are just coming off of the assembly line. We should have everything in place within two weeks.”

  “Then we have Corrinar’s static blockade in place in two weeks.”

  “That is correct, Sir.”

  “Mr. Clark, ships?”

  “As with the platforms, the first wave is on station. All converted freighters. The small and medium ones. Forty-seven. They are the fastest.”

  “Armament?”

  Glancing at his tablet, Lieutenant Clark continued. “They all have X-cannons and defensive weaponry. All are rear mounted. Their primary fire zones are astern. Since they can’t go toe-to-toe with the aliens, the idea is for a strategic withdrawal. Fire and flee, if you were, sir.”

  “The rest?”

  “Another one hundred, thirty-two small and medium are inbound. With system travel and gate time, all of them will be in place within the two week window.”

  “You haven’t mentioned the large and jumbo freighters.”

  “Ninety-eight. Those, we are going to use as a feint. We are going to hold them at the Arium gate, as though they will be a blockade. When the small and mediums reach them, everyone will flee into the gate and reposition in Arium.”

  “Projections?”

  “Based upon our contact with the enemy, their patrol ships and frigates shouldn’t be a problem. We’re hoping to get some destroyers and maybe a cruiser or two. But that could all be changing.”

  “How so?”

  “According to Heimdallr, the aliens have spent the last three, four months coating their ships with something. And we don’t know what that is. If it stops the X-cannons, then this will be a slaughter.”

  “Let’s not go there. Moving on to Arium. Who has that?”

  “I do, Vice-Admiral.”

  “Engineer McCauley, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Mack ignored the feigned memory loss and the ignoring of his title as ‘Doctor’.

  “Why you?”

  “Vice-Admiral, we are all working for our corner of humanity. I think we should stick to that.”

  “I am, Mr. Gregor. I am simply trying to ascertain Mr. McCauley’s credentials.”

  “He is Doctor McCauley, Vice-Admiral Weiskoff. Actually he has doctorates in three different specialties, structural engineering, chemical engineering and theoretical engineering. I would say that he is probably the smartest person in the room, Vice-Admiral Weiskoff.”

  “It’s ok, Mr. Gregor. I understand where Mr. Weiskoff’s attitude is coming from.”

  Gregor saw his chief engineer’s anger start to rise. And he let the brilliant scientist go.

  “In answer to your question, Mr. Weiskoff, I’m the one who upgraded the design of your X-cannons. I am also the one who designed the engineering requirements for using the asteroids as a blockade against the aliens. And I am the one who has managed this whole ship yard and gotten your damn boat back to combat-readiness.”

  Everyone at the table watched, either intimidated or amused. The military side cowed under the renowned anger storm of
the Vice-Admiral. Gregor’s contingent looked on in enjoyment, watching Weiskoff getting taken down a peg.

  Gregor stepped in.

  “Vice-Admiral Weiskoff. Doctor McCauley. It’s obvious that there is friction, maybe even animosity, between you two. And I can see that that will never change. But now is not the time. Here is not the place. We are looking at a cataclysmic event. The ending of Humanity.”

  Gregor paused, looking at all of the silent faces.

  “Vice-Admiral. Doctor McCauley has overseen the repair of Odin. And, he has overseen the arming of a civilian fleet of ships. But that is as far as he can take it. You need to accept the Doctor’s efforts and get this ragtag fleet into some sort of military trim.”

  “And you aren’t going to be able to order these captains around like puppets. Your Mr. Clark has a grand plan, but there’s no guarantee that these folks are going to stick to it. They either own their ships outright or are part owners. They’re not used to taking blind orders.”

  “Hank, back off. The Vice-Admiral knows how to lead men.”

  “Sorry, Mr. Gregor. It’s just that, well, you know. It’s that Scottish streak in me. Sometimes I get my back humped up, and all.”

  “Let’s move on.”

  “Sorry, Vice-Admiral. Sometimes I let my anger get the best of me. Whatever you need, just ask. I’ll get it for ya.”

  “I hope so, Doctor. Because I am going to need a lot if we are going to hold off the aliens.”

  “Me and the lads will be there for ya. Lasses too.”

  “Mr. Clark, note. We need to contact the freighter captains and begin organizing fleet distribution and training exercises. Get them to Corrinar.”

  “Already on it, Sir. In anticipation of the rather free-thinking of the civilian crews, I’ve created an information packet describing the objectives and how to achieve them. I hoped that doing a little front-end salesmanship might help to bring them on board.”

  “That’s mighty right thinking, Mr. Clark. I’ll give them a talking to and help push them in the right direction.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

 

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