Battle in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 4)

by D Patrick Wagner

  “Any casualties?”

  “One, Shuhan. Kaihei Fujita.”

  “She will be missed and honored.”

  “We brought her back. When the time is right, we will bring her home.”

  “So sad. Thirty-three Nightshades have passed. They will be missed.”

  Taketa knew that his father knew every one by name. The Shuhan and the lead trainer of the Nightshades, his father, knew everything about them. Their deaths were his deaths. And, as the active Commander, Taketa felt the same way.

  “I have more to report, Shuhan.”

  “Yes?”

  “We have found over two thousand survivors. We brought them to the cavern.”

  “Two thousand.”

  “Hai, Shuhan. From Nishio and the surrounding farm lands.”

  “What shape are they in?”

  “Tired. Angry. Especially the ex-military.”

  “Accommodations?”

  “We have enough room. Barely. The snows have hit early. We will make it. Come Spring, we will need to do something. We are too overcrowded.

  “There is a solution.” Taishou (General) Suzume came into the screen. “There is a strong river at the bottom of a canyon. Steep sides, lots of protection.”

  “I am familiar with it. Kaihei Ariyama and I used it to escape the alien kill squads.”

  “You came down river?”

  “Hai, Taishou.”

  “Where did you put in?”

  Taketa worked his tablet and gave the General the coordinates.

  “Up river from there. Six kilometers.” Suzume sent Taketa the coordinates. “The canyon is deeper. And riddled with caves. We had planned on using those caves as fallback positions if the Federacy ever invaded. The aliens beat them to it.”

  “You are recommending that we relocate the civilian population to those caves?”

  “They have been partially prepared. More than enough space for the Nishio people.”

  “I will send a scout team. Evaluate what is there. Begin planning for the exodus.”

  “You mentioned ex-military.”

  “Hai, Shuhan. Just more than four hundred. Some officers.”

  “Put together a list of all four hundred. I will work up a command structure. And duty assignments. They are all conscripted.”

  “Some are pretty aged, Shuhan.”

  “Can’t be helped. We need everyone.”

  “Hai, Shuhan.”

  “Anything else, Sousui?”

  “No, Taishou, Shuhan.”

  “We await your written report.”

  “Hai.”

  With that, Shuhan Oishi broke the connection to his son.”

  “Shoui,”

  “Hai.”

  “Two teams. Have them work their way to the coordinates which Taishou sent us.”

  “Hai, Sousui. Warbots?”

  “No. this is a stealth mission. What the Nightshades trained for. Everyone on foot.

  “Hai. I will be ready to leave within the hour.”

  “No, Shoui. You are needed here. Send Sa-Junto Sato’s team. And Sa-Junto Kimura. Juro, You will replace Kaihei Fujita.”

  “I’m not needed here? For communications?”

  “No, Mappai. I need you with the scout team. You are familiar with the river and the canyon walls. And you have the expertise to run the drones, survey the caves.”

  “Hai, Sousui. I understand.”

  Sa-Junto is senior. Have him lead.”

  “Hai, Sousui.”

  “And now we dig in. Winter is coming.

  Roth Winter Cabin

  For an entire day, three people took turns playing with their alien toy. Hank didn’t mind as he could monitor the other three’s actions and determine the limits of the anti-gravity pack, as they came to call it.

  Telly proved to be the most daring. He discovered the maximum height, hitting just under thirty feet. He also maxed out the speed at fifty miles an hour. Surprisingly, Merle proved to be the most cautious. And the least interested. He took his stint, finished and declared that it worked like it was supposed to.

  Lanzo took his tablet, donned the harness and joined his swarm of drones, flying around and creating intricate, aerial patterns. Hank concerned himself with monitoring and documenting everyone’s flights then creating a sort of user manual.

  They did find one drawback. After extended use, each one would have a brain-numbing headache. Through experimentation, Hank concluded that a maximum time limit of forty minutes seemed to be safe comfort zone. He did worry if there was any residual damage from the anti-gravity pack.

  As everyone played with the new toy, Hank kept careful tracking of the time usage and the slow dropping of the purple light on the power cell. By the end of the day, with heavy usage, the gauge registered just less than twenty-five percent, if it was a gauge.

  Towards dusk a caravan of military vehicles pulled to a stop in front of the cabin’s door, with. Harriet, Randy, Dean and Sergeant Stein exiting first. Harriet, Randy and Dean headed towards the cabin where they were met by Hank, Lanzo, Telly and Merle. Sergeant Stein headed to the three trailing personnel carriers and one equipment hauler.

  “Alright, kiddies!” Sergeant Stein bellowed.

  “You could put that man into a barrel of other drill sergeants and you couldn’t tell the difference of any of them.”

  “First Sergeants are the same everywhere, Hank.”

  “That they are, Mr. Roth. I mean, Staff Sergeant Roth.”

  “Form up! Form up!”

  All three carriers spilled their human cargo and three groups of six marines slammed to attention, two rows each.

  “Sloppy! You are supposed to be the best of the best! Are you the best of the best?”

  “Sergeant, Yes, Sergeant!” eighteen voices shouted in unison.

  “Get your gear! Bunks in the cabin. Thirty minutes! Squared away and ready! Dismissed!”

  “Loud, isn’t he,” Harriet commented

  “Surprising, too. He was always so polite, so easy going. When he was off the clock.”

  First Sergeant Stein marched into the cabin, seized the center then proceeded to order his men to their prospective bunks and the disposition of gear and supplies.

  “Now I can see why he was in charge of Planetary Security Services.”

  “And now, I get to play army,” Staff Sergeant Roth commented as he sprinted to the supply truck and proceeded to pull his own personal gear from its storage. Then he squared away his own, assigned bunk.

  By the time Randy had set up his personal space, some of the other marines became free. Stein ordered them to assist Randy, the resident corpsman, in the assembly of the medical tent and the setting up of the medical equipment.

  The five civilians watched the hustle as the eighteen marines pulled their gear, set their bunks and pulled more gear, supplies and foodstuffs.

  The hour passed. The troops had their personal bunks and spaces. The formerly empty kitchen and pantry now overflowed with foodstuffs and supplies. The medical tent stood ready and fully operational. All eighteen marines stood at attention, ready for their next orders.

  Aboard Gazelle

  Sixteen small, fast ships hid in the corona of Corrinar’s star. Each linked to the fifteen others by tight-beam communications. The lead ship, Gazelle, drifted ahead of the others, nose on with her charges, making a point.

  “Listen up, people.” Captain Forsythe demanded the attention of all of her stinger captains and their crews.

  She watched her fifteen different frames on Gazelle’s main viewer and waited for the anxious people to settle down.

  “We’re all watching the alien missile attack. As you see, we are knocking them down as fast as they arrive. It looks like target practice. It looks easy. Don’t be deceived. These are just dumb electronic-seeking missiles. The real killers are coming next. Are you all still in the game?”

  Jean waited and watched her captains as they moved around, thought and finally all stared back at their scr
eens.

  “Good. Here’s the plan. We are going to use Corrinar’s sun to slingshot us up to six-tenths of S.O.L. we are going to break free of the gravity well on a vector that will bring us in from the rear of the alien invaders. Can you all do this?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Jean looked at the particular frame’s label and saw ‘Mariella, Captain Angela Hughes’.

  “Just checking, Captain. Of course I know you all can do a slingshot. And I know you are all used to high gee’s. I just wanted to be sure. Now, during our escape from the well, I want us broken up into four groups of four. I’ll pick four targets. Each group softens up its selected target with their X-cannon, throws the two missiles at the soft spot and bugs out.”

  “Nice pun, Captain.”

  “Thanks, Angela. I try. The four targets. Two reasons for their selection. One, they should be big enough so that, if we take them out, it will hurt the buggers. Second, the attack-lines will get us in and out fast and allow us to beat feet towards the Arium gate.”

  “So, we-all flash in, junk them up and boogie out.”

  “That’s it, Clara. In, hit hard, run like hell.”

  “Sounds like fun”

  “No, Clara. No, all of you. This is war. People are going to die. Don’t let it be any of us. How many of you have your families on your ships?”

  Jean saw almost all of the captains raise their hands.

  “We play it safe. But, no one runs. I know that we are all independent. We all are used to going our own way. But we can’t do that here. In your groups of four, you are all dependent on each other. If the four of you determine that your run isn’t safe, then you escape as a group. If you don’t you’ll be sitting ducks. Make sense?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Good. Get to talking. Get your groups sorted out. I don’t know all of you, but you all know each other. So, you all pick the groupings. Let me know. We start our run in thirty minutes. Are you ready?”

  “We’ll be ready, Captain.”

  Jean saw that Angela spoke for them all.

  Onboard Ravage Maker

  War squatted on his command stool, his four claws held to the deck by magnetic boots. Perusing Ravage Maker’s bridge, the large Mortek clicked his claws in satisfaction. All of his underlings quietly and intensely carried out their tasks, working towards another victory. Hearing the clunking walk of a subordinate, War raised his head comb in a display of power and faced the cause of the annoying noise.

  “Yes, Intelligence?”

  “It is as you predicted, My Lord.” Intelligence kept his comb completely withdrawn, as a show of fealty.

  “The soft skins destroyed the missiles.”

  “With ease, Sire.”

  “What kind of defenses did our observation drones discover?”

  “All were destroyed, except one. It recorded many platforms with those new beam weapons.”

  “How many platforms?”

  “Unknown, Sire. But the area of space which the drone was tasked to cover contained many. More than a hundred.”

  “How many did we destroy?”

  “Not many, My Lord.”

  “What about expanding the arrival zone. Did we accomplish any of this?”

  “No, My Lord.”

  “Based upon the current information, what is your assessment of the success with our attack craft?”

  “We should be able to carve out some space, but not enough for all sixty of our frigates.”

  War paused and thought. He clacked a claw on his console, worked the problem.

  “Flight!”

  Flight turned on his stool, rose and approached his superior. “My Lord?”

  “All missiles have been destroyed?”

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  “The fleet is still holding position?”

  “Yes, My Lord.”

  “The attack ships are still in front, preparing for exit and advancement?”

  “Everything is ready, My Lord.”

  “We will change the attack formation. We will follow with a dreadnaught. Defiler of Planets will immediately exit the gate as soon as the attack ships carve out enough room for that single ship. Task Defiler of Planets with focusing on all platforms.”

  “At your command, My Lord.”

  “Good. Carry on.”

  War watched the two bow deeply, listened to the clatter of their magnetic boots and returned to his observation as his two lieutenants turned and returned to their stations.

  Onboard Heimdallr

  Now having perfected the technique of sneaking into systems, avoiding aliens and accomplishing their goals, the crew of Heimdallr went through their well-practiced routines of becoming a dark spec ballistically entering Atlantius.

  “Looking good, Captain.”

  “Thanks Toast. What have we got?”

  “A couple of thousand ships. Maybe more.”

  “Bugs?”

  “No Captain.”

  “All ours, then. What’s the configuration?”

  “Almost all are civilian.”

  “What does the military look like?”

  “Only small ships. Patrol craft. And Hodr.”

  “Is the Old Man here?”

  “Yes, Captain. Frigg is holding position over Pantea.”

  “Let’s say ‘hello’. Brooksy, get us moving to Pantea. Toast, send a squawk. Let them know we’re coming in.”

  Both of Captain Scott’s crewmates went to work on their tasks. Heimdallr slowly picked up speed and re-vectored towards Frigg and their Fleet-Admiral.

  “Got a response, Captain.”

  “Time lapse?”

  “Currently two-plus minutes.”

  “Put it on the viewer.”

  Fleet-Admiral Weiskoff’s image flashed onto the view screen.

  “Captain Scott. Glad to see you made it back. Come on in. couple with Frigg. I want a face-to-face.”

  “Send an acknowledgement and acceptance.”

  Three hours later Heimdallr docked with Frigg. Three newly scrubbed crewmates, wearing their informal blues, exited their scout ship and entered fleet-Admiral Weiskoff’s flagship. After going through the ritual, the watch corpsman welcomed them aboard and assigned an ensign to take them to the conference room. They marched in, came to attention and saluted.

  After returning the salute, Flee-Admiral Weiskoff ordered, “At ease.”

  The three spread their legs and assumed the position.

  “Get some drinks. And snacks.” Weiskoff waved towards the buffet table.

  After filling plates and pouring drinks, they followed their Commander’s hand gesture and took seats at the table.

  “Where do we stand? What’s my son up to?”

  “Well, Sir. He, with respect, refused the order to return. He stated, that with the current alien deployment, he would not be able to sail Odin through Bridgelen. Sir.”

  “Where is he currently?”

  “Last we saw, he was organizing a defensive position in Corrinar with backup contingencies in Arium and Tolimar.”

  “Then he has his fleet with him?”

  “No Sir. The fleet was destroyed. Odin is the only survivor. He found that the experimental cannon worked well against the alien ships. So he commandeered all ships in the quadrant and had them armed with the new weapon. We have one mounted on Heimdallr”

  “As you saw, that isn’t going to work. The bugs have found a workaround.”

  I know Number Three, Sir. He’ll hold his own.”

  “I hope so.”

  “If I may ask, what is the plan?”

  “We run, Scotty. I have almost two million souls on two thousand ships. We’re about ready to sail”

  “Where to, Sir?”

  “Old Earth.”

  “That’s just about a year in the grey.”

  “Yes, it is. But we have no other choice. I know. We haven’t heard from Old Earth in a hundred years. We don’t know what we will find. But we need distance and time to re
cover and regroup.”

  “It’s going to be a tough journey, Sir. What do you want us to do?”

  “Rest up. Restock. I’m sending you back to Odin. He needs to know the X-cannon doesn’t work as well as it did. And he needs all of the help he can get.”

  The three crewmates looked at each other and succeeded in stifling their groans. Another long run without a break.

  Chapter 07

  Ballison

  Griffin fully circled the large, silver pyramid before Krag brought it in for a landing on the moderately-sized landing pad. Once settled, the cargo bay ramp lowered and the entire compliment of personnel stood, ready to disembark. Tribune Ambakai and his seven Royal Guardsmen, already planet-side, stood as honor guard, forming rows, four to a side. Tribune Ambakai, at the base of the ramp, held his salute as the four humans, seven Elonians and two synthetics formally descended and touched paws or feet on Ballisonian soil.

  Sir Mahajani led the procession, symbolically performing as a herald, his presence announcing the arrival of Royalty. Princess Analyn followed with Ambassador Suzume at her side. Captain Marston, with his vassal came next, followed by Buster and Vidhee. The three engineers, Elonian scientists and two Elonian maids completed the procession.

  With directions from Igaklay, Sir Mahajani led his princess and her group to the base of the giant pyramid. Through paw signals, Tribune Ambakai dispersed his squad of Guardsmen into defensive positions as everyone else stared at the colossal, silver, four-walled edifice.

  “Very imposing.”

  “Yes, Ambassador Suzume. Bigger than our palace.”

  “I wonder how we enter.”

  Just as Keiko spoke, a section of the pyramid seemed to dissolve and a triangular opening, twice as tall as Sir Mahajani, answered her question. A diminutive Ballisonian, clothed in the dark-blue tunic of Griffin, rushed through the entryway.

  “Hello! Welcome to Ballison!”

  The little being circled Sir Mahajani and slammed to a stop in front of Princess Analyn and Keiko. Sir Mahajani had pivoted, followed it and started to reach for its head. The Princess held her paw up to stop.

  “Igaklay?”