Battle in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 4)
Page 11
A growl rippled through the men as they clasped their weapons a little tighter.
“Let it be known. Emperor Kaneko is alive and well, as are his advisors and counsel.”
Taketa waited for the cheering to die down.
“As you can see, this cavern has been carefully prepared to support a large group of people. Now us. As some of you have discovered, complete sanitation facilities are at the back of the cave. Since they are connected to a recycling plant, maintenance will never be a problem. We have access to an underground river. Water will not be a problem. We have enough provisions, if we ration carefully, for two years. That should be enough time to kick those aliens off of our planet.
Again, Taketa waited for the cheering, this time angry, to die down.
“First order of business. Are there any medical personnel in our group?”
Multiple hands rose, both men and women.
“Please rise and stand with Kaihei Hayashi”
Taketa waited for the group to reach its destination.
“Kaihei Hayashi. You will interview and organize our medical staff, determining the management team and creating a list with names and their skills.”
“Hai, Sousui.”
“Next. Who has been or is currently in the military?”
Another set of hands, a very much larger number than the previous group, rose, including some women.”
“Please report to Sa-Junto Sato. He will collect your information and skill set.”
Again, Taketa waited as more of the survivors rose and approached their new commander. Seeing how large the group, Taketa estimated more than four hundred. Once they finished, the Sousui again raised the megaphone to his mouth.
“Last. Who are governors, mayors, or city elders?”
A few hands rose, again both men and women.
“Meet with me, here. Kaihei Ariyama. Please join us.”
By the time Taketa had climbed down, slid open the van door and sat on its edge, five men and two women had made their way to stand in front of him.
“Please sit.”
All sat on the hard cavern floor, cross-legged and hands resting in their laps. Juro stood, just to Taketa’s right.
“You seven must be the leaders of our group. I am appointing you to be in charge of the civilian requirements of these people. How you do this is up to you. However, this is not a democracy. You, this group, are the malevolent ruling body. You are in complete control of everything non-military. Now. Let me make this abundantly clear. I will not tolerate any exploitation or abuse. Nor favoritism. Also, any military requirements will override anything you have put in place. Is this acceptable?”
“We, I and my six collages, have been managing our people since we fled Nishio.”
“Then everyone is from the same community?”
“Yes. That is correct. Except for a few families who had succeeded in joining us.”
“And you are?”
“Mayor Ueda”
“Welcome, Shutaru Ueda”
“Thank you, Sousui. Let me introduce you to the six City Council members. Shutaru Ueda went through the introductions. Sousui Oishi quickly forgot their names, as he knew he would not be dealing with the Counsel. Only the Mayor.”
“Welcome all of you. Think of this cavern as Nishio. With a very large military base.”
“Are you saying that we are to establish a self-reliant township in this cavern, Sousui?”
“Yes, I am. Work up a plan and we will combine it with our military needs. We may be here for a long time. So plan accordingly.”
“Hai, Sousui.”
“Kaihei Ariyama is my Adjunct. For any requirements or questions, please feel free to contact him directly. Now, it is time to plan.”
Sousui Oishi turned and left. Juro sat down. The Mayor of Nishio turned back to its City Counsel and began the task of creating a community from whole cloth.
Taketa joined Sa-Junto Sato and his group of military personnel to begin the task of creating a fighting force.
Aboard Heimdallr
“Ready for exit, Toast?”
“Not going to make the same mistake as last time, Cap. We’re total stealth. Not a squeak.”
“Good. Brooksy, time to exit?”
“Three minutes, Cap.”
Captain Scott proudly looked at his two crewmembers. Both sat, focused on their tasks. If either of them held any fear, it didn’t show.”
“Thirty seconds out, shut everything down, Brooksy. We just drift in.”
“Roger that, Cap.”
“Keep your hands on the directional thrusters. If we do get into the muck, I want you to baby us out.”
“Already there, Cap. Shutting down now.”
The three infiltrators held their breath as their stealthy scout ship drifted through the gate and into Cencore. Their exhales came out as groans upon seeing the carnage.
“Oh man, Cap. Cencore’s gone.” Brooks worked his thrusters as he crept the ship through the dense debris field.
“It’s all ours, Cap. There’s some alien wreckage, but not much.”
“Toast, quick scan the surrounding area. See if there are any hostiles.”
“Already done, Cap. We’re clear.”
“Scope out Olympia. See what’s there.”
“The scans will be about forty minutes old, Cap.”
“I know. Just look.”
Scotty sat, hunched forward, tense and waiting. Waiting for Torres’s results.
“Here, Captain.”
She threw her results up onto the large viewer. What all three saw deadened their hopes. Olympia sat in the middle of a massive alien fleet. A large carrier stood off and launched thousands of assault craft towards the now-conquered planet. They saw the giant shipyards sitting dark with no energy or visual readings escaping. Hundreds more of the alien assault craft swarmed over the huge, metal corpse, periodically landing, holding position then pulling away.
“That’s our fleet, Cap. It’s all gone. Junk.”
“Thor?”
“That’s her corpse, there.” Torres highlighted a large piece of flotsam.
“Survivors?”
“No beacons pinging, Cap.”
“The aliens have won.”
“Yup, Cap. And them bugs are doing to Olympia what they did to Dorogon and Yeni Persia.”
“That’s it. Nothing’s left.”
“It’s all gone, Cap.”
The three crewmates sat in silence and watched the bits and pieces of the once-great Federacy navy drift by as Brooks worked Heimdallr through the debris field. Long minutes passed in silence as the three grieved.
Shaking himself out of his mental dirge, Scott asked, “All the wreckage is navy? No civvies?”
“No, Cap. All navy.”
“Where’d they go? There used to be thousands of ships working Cencore space. What about Hodr? It wasn’t due to be finished for months. Is it still in dry dock?”
“I can’t find it, Cap. It must have gotten under power. There isn’t any wreckage large enough to be another dreadnaught. Maybe it got away.”
“You can’t find it, Toast?”
“It’s not here, Cap. I can keep looking, but it’s not here.”
“And thousands of civvies are gone.”
“I’ll bet a bunch packed up and left, Cap.”
“Could be, Brooksy. Toast, Any aliens around Callus?”
“Nope. Titus is clear.”
“The bugs don’t seem to like gas giants, Cap.”
“No, they don’t, Brooksy. Let’s creep on over there. See what’s going on. I want to get close. Take a look. Brooksy, slow and silent. Toast. All ears open.”
Brooks worked his console. “On our way, Cap. Four hours from now we get our peek.”
“Stay alert, peeps. This is no longer our home.”
“Copy that, Captain.”
“What she said, Cap.”
Aboard Frigg
The committee which organized the exodus fro
m Cencore shuffled around the conference room of Frigg. Joining them was the ruling board of Pantea and Captain Mitchell. Sitting at the head, Fleet-Admiral Weiskoff waited for his charges to take their places, get settled in. As conversations ended and comfortable positions were taken, he fought off the feelings of doom, compartmentalized the thoughts of failure and focused on what needed to be done to save the Human Race.
Without preamble, the highest ranking, still living, Federacy officer began.
“First, let me announce that we are in a state of war. As such I am invoking Marshall Law.”
All of the people surrounding the table who came from Cencore knew the situation. They simply nodded. The three board members who ruled Pantea huddled and mumbled. Fleet-Admiral Weiskoff ignored them.
“Six months. If the aliens stay true to form, that is the maximum time we have to prepare.”
“Prepare for what, Admiral?” one of the mumblers interrupted.
“And you are?”
“Chairman Thompson.”
“Well, Chairman. Preparing to flee to Old Earth.”
“I don’t understand.”
“As most of us at this table know, we have approximately one-point-six million people crammed into those ships currently orbiting Pantea. We have reached the end of our voyage under the current conditions. We are going to bring them down, a few ships at a time, prepare those ships for a one-year voyage, reload them and head towards Old Earth.”
“Why aren’t you staying and fighting?”
“We fought in Cencore. We lost. The aliens are now occupying Olympia.”
“But you are the Federacy. It is your responsibility to protect Pantea.”
“If I could, I would. But I can’t. If, no, when, the aliens decide to come to Atlantius, we have nothing to stop them.”
“But you have a dreadnaught.”
Showing great patience, Fleet-Admiral Weiskoff continued to indulge the leader of Pantea. “Hodr is not battle ready. Besides, even if it were, it is half the size of an alien dreadnaught. And the aliens have ten of them. No, Chairman, staying and fighting is suicide.”
“But, what about Pantea? Its people?”
“Pantea has approximately one hundred and ten thousand souls. We’ll make room. Pantea will be abandoned.”
“You can’t do this! You can’t order us around!”
“You’re right. I can’t. But I can send a world-wide message. I can show the people what is coming. They can decide. You. I hope you will stay.”
“But!”
“No more arguments. That’s enough!” Fleet-Admiral Weiskoff had finally reached the limits of his patience.
“Now, Lieutenant Lembeck, Mrs. Weber. Have you formulated a plan for getting our people planet-side? And upgrading the living conditions in our ships?”
With everyone voicing their opinions and political positioning, the planning session continued for more than four hours. With its winding down, Weiskoff again took command.
“Then it’s agreed. The first two hundred ships will have their populous shuttled down to Pantea. That will represent about twelve percent of our fleet’s population. We have the crew to refurbish about fifty ships at a time. Each ship taking a week in parallel with the rest. If we keep moving, that will give us approximately ten to thirteen weeks for the complete reorganizing and restocking of the fleet. Correct?”
“That is correct, Admiral.”
“Good. Let’s get started. Also, we are to begin stockpiling all planet-side supplies, in anticipation of loading them on the cargo ships. All agreed?” Weiskoff pointedly stared at Chairman Thompson.
Withering under the stare, Pantea’s Chairman responded, “Yes, Admiral.”
“Good. Lieutenant, Mrs. Weber, I leave this project in your hands. You have my full backing in conscripting any labor, equipment or supplies you need. If there are any complaints or resistance, please refer them to me. I will handle them.”
“Understood, Admiral.” Lieutenant Lembeck answered for both him and Mrs. Weber.
“Captain Mitchell. You have free rein to enforce any and all Federacy laws governing any actions you deem criminal during this time of war.”
“Aye, aye, Admiral.”
“Note that any actions taken which impede our progress is to be deemed treasonous, with the appropriate punishment.”
‘Understood, Admiral.”
“Let’s get started, people. Dismissed.”
Weiskoff waited until the room emptied, except for his Chief-of-Staff.
“Please get started, Paxton. You know what they say, ‘hope for the best, plan for the worst’.”
“You don’t think we have six months?”
“I just don’t know. But, regardless, I want us out of here in no more than four months.”
“Copy that, Admiral.”
Fleet-Admiral Weiskoff, with worry in his heart, watched his Chief-of-Staff leave to achieve the impossible. With a deep, soothing breath, he tapped his tablet and commed his wife. Immediately she answered.
“Teddy? How did your meeting go?”
“Well, I thought. The Pantea board did a lot of whining, of course. But it will toe the line.”
“I’m glad you called. I’ve missed you.”
“Me too. That’s why I called. I was thinking. I’ll reserve a landing spot for Gulper. Why don’t you have Beverly bring her in tonight. Tomorrow we’ll have a full day on the town. You, me, everyone. I think we need the relief.”
“You can get away?”
“I just put everything in motion. There should be some quiet time during the startup. Yes. I can get away. ”
“Ok. For the day. But I get you all night. The executive suite on Gulper is very lush. And I need a night.”
“Ready and eager, Darling.”
Aboard Heimdallr
“In orbit around Titus, Cap.”
“Thanks, Brooksy. Toast, any radio waves? Com signals? Sensor pings?”
“Nope. Nothing. Every band is dark, Captain. No energy readings either.”
“Completely dead?”
“Completely.”
“Let’s hope it’s just the electronics. You’ve got sights on the com tower?”
“Affirmative, Captain.”
The three spoke in whispers as though their voices would carry through the empty, airless darkness to the invading aliens.
“Tight beam our ‘friend’ code. That’s all. Real tight. Then wait.”
“Roger that.”
They waited.
“Got an acknowledgement ping, Captain.”
“Excellent. Ping our I.D. List me as captain.”
“Done, Captain.”
“Brooksy, keep us line-of-sight with the tower. Keep us close. And quiet.”
“Already doing it, Cap.”
“Good, good.”
“Throw him a bone, Captain. Pat his head.”
“Har, har, Toast. The only way I’m a doggin’ is when I go sniffing after you, Tootsie.”
“Tootsie?”
“Focus, peeps.”
“Always, Cap.”
“Got a response, Captain. A Doctor Richardson.”
“Is he tight-beamed?”
“Affirmative.”
“Ok. Open the viewer. Let him see us.”
“Done.”
An older man, dressed in civilian dress and a lab coat, blinked onto Gazelle’s view screen.
“Hello, Doctor Richardson. I’m Captain Scott. This is Lieutenant Torres and Lieutenant Brooks of the scout ship Heimdallr.”
“Greetings, Captain. What brings you to our neck of the woods?”
“We’re a scout ship, Doctor. We’re scouting.”
“Well, you saw our new neighbors.”
“Yeah. Not to neighborly.”
“Nope. They’re not. That’s why we’re shut down.”
“I think you’re doing the right thing. A get-together would be less than beneficial for you. Are you alright? Need anything?”
“Nope. Thi
s rock is self-reliant. And we’re circling the gas giant. The bugs don’t seem too interested.”
“And you want to keep it that way.”
“In the most possible way, Captain.”
“What happened to the ships, Doctor? We saw what happened to the Federacy fleet. What happened to the civvies?”
“Left. Headed to Atlantius.”
“What about Hodr?”
“Left Too. Got turned into a transport.”
“How many people got out?”
“Don’t really know. More than a million.”
“Why’d you stay?”
“We figured it would be safer. Sometime in the future, the aliens are going to go after that fleet. We decided that we didn’t want to be there when that happened.”
“I see. And staying here, you thought would be safer?”
“Yes. We’ve all seen the vids of what the aliens are doing to Sasania. From what we saw, Titus doesn’t have anything they want. No minerals or resources to speak of. And not enough people to enslave. So we took a vote and decided to stay here. Close up and pretend to not exist.”
“I get it. So, we have a survivor convoy in Atlantius, headed by Hodr.”
“Fleet-Admiral Weiskoff is in charge.”
“Good to know. He’ll be pleased to hear that his son is safe for the moment. Odin is hiding out in Arium.”
“Then you’re heading to Atlantius?”
“I think that’s best.”
“Why don’t you settle here? In the future we could use your ship.”
“No can do, Doctor. I’ve got to get to the Old Man and report. Maybe someday.”
“Hope to see you, again.”
“Scott recognized when the conversation came to an end.
“See you on the flip side, Doctor. Out.”
Scott nodded to Torres. She ended the transmission.
“On to Atlantius, Cap?”
“Yeah, Brooksy. Work up a creep to the gate. Let’s go see what the Old Man is up to.”
Aboard Gazelle
“Exit one minute, Trish.”
“I hear you, Mandy. We’re coming into a battle zone. So we’ve got to military up. No more informality. All business.”