by Jason Kent
“They think this is my fault…Jennifer’s fault,” Ian said. “If I led them back here…”
Yates shook his head. “No, Ian, we’ve already checked your Reaper’s sensor logs. There was nothing indicating you were followed back to this cluster.”
“This can’t just be a coincidence,” Ian said. “Maybe if I’d used more quiet time…”
“Captain,” Yates said, “those Soosuri would have found out we were prodding around their neighborhood soon enough no matter how hard we try to hide like rats in the walls.” He faced the main screens again. “Maybe it’s better to get the fight out in the open once and for all.”
“It’s going to be some fight,” Ian muttered. He faced Yates and said, “We destroyed two of their ships. Jennifer’s ship destroyed a third on the water planet. How can this not be our fault?”
Yates cornered Ian with a steely gaze and hissed, “Pull it together Langdon. If this is anyone’s fault it’s those idiots who sent Jennifer out and me for sending you out after them.” He laid a hand on Ian’s shoulder. In a softer tone, he said. “I need you in the game.”
Ian thought for a moment then nodded. “Yes sir.” He looked up at the display board again. The red icons vastly outnumbered the blue and grey icons representing friendly forces. “How long can our defenses hold out?” He took in the other five screens representing Jupiter, Earth, Mars, and Saturn Space along with the ever-present news feed.
“You’re too used to working out there,” Yates said, hooking his thumb over his shoulder to the CSOC Ops Floor. He reached over the shoulder of one of his controllers and hit a key. “There are more players on the field than we usually let on.”
Green icons, previously unnoticed by Ian began flashing across all the displays. He thought he recognized the patterns. “Are those wormhole thresholds?”
“Yes and no,” Yates said. He pointed at the screens. “Those are all SOF posts where we have teams. You didn’t think I’d let my boys sit on the sidelines for the big fight, did you? Military and civilian teams have been able to map just about every wormhole threshold in the planetary system of Near Space. SOF has explored a majority of them with our own ships. The ones which seemed likely avenues of attack were seeded with observation posts.”
Ian just stared at Yates for a moment. “You can’t stop an entire attack fleet with a few troops, even if they are SOF.”
“No, probably not,” Yates answered grinning darkly, “but we can sure try.”
One of the controllers spoke up, “Sir, we have burst transmissions from posts twelve and seventeen. Their charges are in place.”
“Blow them,” Yates ordered. He turned to Ian. “Twelve and seventeen are here in Jupiter space. The standing orders were to mine anything that didn’t have an IFF.”
On the Jupiter screen, two of the icons representing the enemy ships started blinking. Thirty seconds later they winked out.
“Targets destroyed,” one of the controllers said.
“Two down, forty-seven to go,” Yates muttered. In a louder voice, he said, “Blow every mine as soon as we have confirmation they’ve been activated.”
The controller nodded.
Ian checked the counter clicking down in a corner of the Jupiter space screen.
“One minute,” the operator in front of Ian called out.
Ian had to do something. He turned to Yates and asked, “Has Reaper 16 lifted yet?”
Yates shook his head, “Ghost dropped Rider and Mason off and was trying to get back. I haven’t heard from him though.”
“If he gets there first, tell him to wait as long as he can,” Ian said and headed for the door.
“What do you have in mind, Langdon?” Yates asked.
“Gotta protect humanity, sir,” Ian said without looking back. Silently he added, and Jennifer.
As Ian reached the SOC hatch, the controller updated the countdown.
“Thirty seconds…”
USS Saratoga
Jupiter Space
“Have they fired, yet?” Mitchell asked after glancing at the status board confirming his ship was prepared for battle.
“No sir,” Growler replied.
Mitchell spent an entire ten seconds doubting his decision to automatically engage the alien ships; it was all the time he could spare. He wanted to stick to his decision, and yet, there was that chance he had made a disastrous choice. Mitchell was expected as a commander to make the hard decisions and face whatever consequences might result from his actions. He blew out a single long breath and reminded himself to ask Yates if he had these same doubts while commanding Schriever. Mitchell pushed the lingering doubts from his mind and focused on the display screens. He pulled a battered cowboy hat from its strap above his head and settled it comfortably on his head, low over his brow.
“Make sure they know we’re here, DO,” Mitchell said.
“Fire two missiles,” Osprey ordered.
Mitchell watched as the hyper-velocity missiles streaked away. Even with their impressive speed, the missiles would require nearly a minute to reach their targets.
Mitchell turned his attention to the nav board. The Saratoga had been patrolling beyond Jupiter’s major moons when they had detected the enemy ships popping out of the wormholes. Mitchell noted his navigation officer had required only a nominal coarse adjustment to the ship’s trajectory in order get onto their current attack vector. Saratoga would round Europa at nearly the same time the enemy ships reached the moon.
The enemy’s obvious target on Europa was Reagan, the largest military base in the outer solar system. Mitchell switched to a video feed from a satellite perched in orbit around the icy moon. The zoomed image showed a formation of ships. They were exactly like those which had attacked Earth.
Any lingering traces of doubts Mitchell may have been harboring evaporated. It was up to him to keep the second Battle of Near Space from going the same way as the first.
“Three minutes,” Tactical called out.
“On your toes people,” Osprey said.
Mitchell changed his display for a feed from Reagan. Tracers and faint ionization from the thin atmosphere showed the rail gun and laser defenses were already engaging the alien ships. Someone there had the sense to fire first, Mitchell felt reassured by his fellow commander’s initiative. He glanced at the counter running down the engagement ranges.
Less than two and a half minutes remaining until Saratoga could fire.
Mitchell hoped Reagan could hold out that long. “Come on, baby,” he quietly told his ship. “We got a scrap to get into.”
Reagan Space Corps Base
Jupiter Space
Ian was halfway to the Reaper when he felt the initial effects of the long range bombardment. The floor bucked and the walls creaked as the base was impacted by laser or high velocity projectiles. Ian could not tell what weapons were striking the surface about him. He figured it really did not matter; a few meters of ice was not going to protect anyone very long against the firepower the Soosuri were capable of unleashing upon the human settlement. He glanced up at the ceiling, all too aware of the thin veil protecting him from hard vacuum.
In between explosions, Ian noticed the ghosts in the ice had returned. The cracking and wailing was more intense than he had ever experienced. He was knocked to his knees by a particularly violent blast. As he pulled himself up using a support pillar, his arm shook in tune with the moaning from the ice pack.
Ian imagined the demons from the dark hell of an ocean far beneath his feet could sense the destruction occurring here on the surface. He pushed away from the wall and muttered, “Hang on guys. It won’t be much longer ‘til you get some company.”
Shaking his head, Ian said, “Focus, Langdon, or you’ll be one of the first to join them.” He forced his way down the hall despite the pitching floor, determined to get into the fight raging above Europa.
Ninety seconds, and several blasts later, Ian reached Gate 25. He cycled through the airlock into the connec
ting tunnel and stumbled down the narrow access tube as the ground continued to rock.
Inside the ship, he called, “Ghost! Robin! What the heck are you guys still doing on the ground?!” He squeezed onto the bridge only to find it completely empty.
“Crud.”
Ian climbed into the pilot seat and activated the controls. Within moments the engine was on line. He heard the main hatch aft of the bridge slam. He did not look up from his preparations as Ghost dropped into the co-pilot seat.
“Nice of you to show up,” Ian said.
“Sorry,” Ghost replied, “Had to take a detour. Seems a few corridors are lacking air.”
“Yeah,” Ian said. “I hear that happens occasionally during attacks by hostile aliens. Check the access tunnel.”
Ghost activated his display boards. “Tunnel’s clear. The ground crew seems to have abandoned us.”
“Can’t blame them,” Ian said as the Reaper swayed on its landing gear. “Okay, I’m pulling away.”
“You’re gonna wreck the access tunnel,” Ghost warned.
“They can bill me.”
Ghost strapped in and asked, “So, did you file a flight plan with the tower?”
“Yates gave me a verbal,” Ian said. “We’ll fill out the paperwork when we get back.”
“You mean ‘if’,” muttered Ghost.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t going to put it that way,” Ian said.
Reagan Space Corps Base / SOF Ops Cell
Europa
Jennifer nearly fell out of bed in the aftermath of the latest blast. “That was close,” she muttered and looked over at Williams. “Exactly how deep are we?”
Before the SOF soldier could answer, Dr. Crowder soothed, “We are quite safe down here, Jennifer. Please, just relax. Your wound is healing quite nicely, but I’d like to perform a few more tests.”
Jennifer pushed herself up on an elbow.
“Please, Mrs. Langdon,” Dr. Crowder said as he gently pushed Jennifer back down onto the pillow. “Nurse…”
The ground shook again. Crowder and the nurse both had trouble staying on their feet.
Jennifer started to get up again. “I need to find Ian.”
“There’s really no need to worry,” Dr. Crowder said, speaking loudly to be heard above the racket of his equipment rattling all around the room. He was finally driven to his knees by a violent upheaval of the floor.
“Apparently there is!” Jennifer shouted.
“Nurse, a sedative,” Crowder called as he got his feet under him again.
“Oh no you don’t,” Jennifer shouted. She eyed the nurse as the woman stumbled to the far side of the room where an injector was bouncing all over Yates’ desk.
Jennifer pushed herself off the bed as the nurse grabbed the auto-syringe.
Crowder stumbled toward Jennifer on unsteady feet. “Mrs. Langdon, I must insist…”
Jennifer rolled over to find a pair of legs rooted to the floor like tree. She looked up and said, “Williams! I need to get to Ian.”
Williams nodded and turned to Crowder. “Doctor, does Mrs. Langdon have any problems which are life critical?”
Jennifer could not help but smile. Did the entire base falling down around her count as life threatening?
“No, but…” Dr. Crowder started. “Master Sergeant Williams, this is not one of your SOF troops. She requires a thorough exam and perhaps more surgery. I insist she remain here under my care.”
Jennifer caught sight of the nurse, now armed with her injector, inching across the shaking floor.
Williams saw her, too. He eyed the nurse with a sideways look until she stopped and took a step back.
“Doctor,” Williams asked again, “anything critical?”
Chowder sighed and shook his head. “Bring her to me as soon as all this,” he gestured above his head, “is over. I’ll head to the infirmary and see what I can do there.”
Williams nodded and bent down. He gently lifted Jennifer up and carried her to a wheelchair Chowder and the nurse had brought with them while outfitting Yates’ quarters as a exam room.
“Let’s go to the Ops Center,” Jennifer said.
“That’s where we’re heading ma’am,” Williams said. He pushed Jennifer up a few ramps and down a back corridor. They reached the secondary entrance to the SOF Cell in less than two minutes.
Yates looked up from where he was leaning over a console. “Good of you to join us, Jennifer.”
It took only a moment for Jennifer to see Ian was not in the Cell. “What’s going on?”
Yates took a moment to give one of the techs some last second instructions then made his way to Jennifer’s side. “Soosuri invasion.”
“But why now?” Jennifer asked. She pulled herself up to stand next to Yates. In a lower voice, she asked, “Did we bring them here?”
“Ian asked the same thing,” Yates said. “I’ll tell you what I told him; the answer, I think, is no.” He gestured up at the main displays, “We’ve got three major concentrations of Soosuri spacecraft. They used wormholes here in the Jovian Cluster and a few closer to Earth. They didn’t just throw this together – it’s got to be a coincidence they arrived right after you and Ian did.”
“Tell that to the guys who tried to kill Williams,” Jennifer said.
Yates looked over at the Master Sergeant, “Something I need to know about?”
“Nothing serious,” Williams said. “But we might want to send a team down there to clean up a bit.”
“We’re ready with another round, sir,” one of the techs said.
Yates turned his attention to the displays. “Blow ‘em.”
Jennifer looked up in time to see more than a dozen red icons begin to flash. After a few moments, they all disappeared. “What was that?”
“Mines,” Yates replied, “my people were able to plant them on some of the Soosuri ships as they arrived.”
“Thirteen enemy ships destroyed,” the same tech reported, “including three in Jupiter Space.”
“Good,” Yates said. Under his breath he added. “I’m afraid it won’t be enough.”
“We still have seven ships engaging the base defenses and two others tracking on other targets in Jupiter Space,” another controller called out as the ground rumbled again.
“Cripes,” Jennifer said as she caught himself on the edge of a console, “You sure it’s just the seven?”
Reaper 16
Jupiter Space
“Any particular heading?” Ghost asked.
“Get us to the closest ship,” Ian said. “We’ll take this one shot at a time.”
“Got it,” Ghost replied. “Lucky for us, there’s a handy group of enemy ships right above us. We can take our pick.”
The Reaper rocked.
“And that would be the enemy ships noticing us,” Ghost said calmly. He took control of the ship from Ian and jerked the nimble craft onto a new trajectory. “Sorry, sir. Old habit.”
“No problem,” Ian grunted from the new g-forces. “You take the stick and I’ll shoot.”
“Excellent tactical thinking, sir.” Ghost said. He whipped the Reaper into a new round of twists and turns.
“I need to stay still long enough to fire!” Ian called out.
“Just fire!” Ghost shouted, “I’ll sweep the nose across a few of their bows.”
“Great plan,” Ian grunted. He jabbed the fire switch and held it down. A string of tracer rounds blazed from the Reaper’s rail gun. The slugs stitched a line along the hull of an enemy ship as Ghost maneuvered around in a tight arc.
“That got ‘em!” Ghost whooped as the targeted vessel disappeared into a spectacular fireball. “Use the missiles and keep your finger on the rail trigger, we’re coming back around!”
“Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em,” Ian said as fingers flew across the control board. The Reaper loosed all six of its hyper-velocity missiles.
“Reagan’s D just got a kill!” Ghost called out.
“Good for the
m,” Ian grunted. “I just lost four of our missiles.”
“Just hang on and fire the rail!” Ghost shouted.
Ian started firing again and checked the counter. At this rate of fire, they would be out of ammo in about twenty seconds. “Better make it quick, Pilot.”
Ghost slewed the Reaper back in line with one of the Soosuri vessels. A stream of slugs tore into the other ship.
To Ian’s disappointment, there was no explosion. But, the enemy spacecraft did take on a satisfying list to port.
“Well, he’s probably out of the game. We can at least chalk up…oh crud,” Ghost muttered a split second before the Reaper was convulsed and thrown into a violent and uncontrolled spin.
“This is fun,” Ian grunted as he was pressed against the side of his seat.
“Took a hit up the aft end,” Ghost shouted above the multiple alarms. “Stay with me…”
“Trying,” Ian said as blackness crept into his vision. He felt his consciousness slipping away with each dizzying gyration their spacecraft took. “Anytime, Ghost…”
“Lost some thrusters,” Ghost grunted, obviously fighting the same possibility of blacking out.
Ian flexed his legs, buttocks, and abdomen so hard his muscles began to burn from the exertion. He had to stay awake. If he and Ghost both blacked out, neither of them would ever wake up again.
“Got it!” Ghost shouted.
It took a moment for Ian to realize what the other man had said. Only when the blackness began to clear from his vision, did he realize they might survive for a few more moments.
“Thank God,” Ian breathed.
“Yeah,” Ghost said tapping on his control board. “Bad news and good news, though.”
“Give it to me all at once,” Ian said trying to find out where their crazy trajectory had flung them.
“Well, we’re still alive and our engines are still burning at 100% so we are clear of the fight,” Ghost said.
“Good…and bad,” Ian said. “Turn us around.”
“Our weapons are off-line and we have a little problem with the power core.”
