by Olson, Ry
Martin confirmed Commander Briton’s statement with a nod.
Admiral Chinn closed her eyes and looked down for a moment. “Very well, Major. Proceed on course until directed otherwise, on my authority. I’m going to contact the EDC directly. You two please stand by.” She heaved a sigh and smiled at them. “Why can’t you two ever just call to say hi?”
. . .
“What do you mean we have a warborg bearing down on Earth?” A Commander hissed. “That is totally against regulations.”
“As you were, Commander.” The Admiral in charge of the EDC ordered. “Proceed Admiral Chinn.” He had checked her dossier, she wasn’t to be taken lightly. Nor were the two warborgs in the other displays in the EDC war room.
“Sir, we strongly suspect you have a Koth killer ship on it’s way to Earth. Followed by the Koth armada that was assaulting the Merced System.” She repeated.
The EDC Admiral stared at the faces in the displays. “How confident are you, Admiral?”
“Sir, it’s been my experience that if these two officers suspect something, take it serious . . . dead serious.” She answered looking straight into the EDC Admiral’s eyes.
“What does this have to do with . . .” the Commander checked his display, “this Star Panther warborg coming to Earth?”
“Major Morgan has fought the killer ships before.” Admiral Chinn replied.
“And how did he do? Did he destroy them?” The EDC Commander pressed.
“No,” Commander Briton interjected. “The first time he barely escaped, and the second killer ship was driven off, but not destroyed as far as we know.”
The EDC Commander smiled. “So we’re supposed to let this warborg who has failed twice against the killer ships approach Earth for another shot at a ship that may or may not even show up.” He shook his head. “Sir, I think we’d be fools to depend on this warborg rather than our own planetary defenses.”
“That may be true, Commander.” Admiral Chinn sighed. “But what would it hurt to have him there as an option?”
The EDC Admiral frowned.
“It would hurt for two reasons.” The EDC Commander stated. “First, his simple presence is totally against the most basic regulations. And second, his being here would be a distraction to our defenses . . . and would show a lack of faith in them. Bringing in a single warborg in lieu of our layers of defense would be a total morale disaster for the men.”
The EDC Admiral rubbed his temples. “I suspect the Commander is right, we’ll let our defenses handle the killer ship, if the threat appears.” He sighed. “Star Panther, please change course to exit the Earth zone as soon as possible. No encroachment charges will be forthcoming because your thoughts were in the best interest of the EDC. Thank you Sirs.” The Admiral stood signaling the end of the meeting.
. . .
“A borgaphobe and an old fool.” Admiral Chinn seethed from the display back aboard the yacht.
Briton looked sad. “I don’t think the Admiral is a fool, he’s just been playing politics for so long in a cushy job he’s forgotten the golden rule of keeping all your options open.”
“Maybe so,” Martin laughed, “but that Commander was a dyed in the wool borgaphobe. Sheesh.”
“Too true.” Chinn shook her head. “So what do we do now?”
Martin smiled. “Off the record . . . I’m going in. If that ship shows I better be around to try and stop it, and if it doesn’t, they’ll never know I was there.”
Briton and Chinn looked at Martin in dismay then at each other. “I didn’t hear him say anything.” Admiral Chinn smiled in wide eyed innocence.
“Anything about what?” Briton gave a rare lopsided smile.
Admiral Chinn looked at Martin with sad eyes. “You be careful, Martin.”
He nodded and she faded out.
Briton eyed his friend and fellow officer. “Can you take it out if you have to . . . preferably living through the ordeal?” He asked quietly.
“Yes, Sir.” He gave Briton a solemn wink. “I hope so, Sir.”
Commander Briton stepped back and gave Martin a relaxed salute and an easy smile. He faded out before Martin could respond.
“Steady as she goes, little buddy. Run silent.” He felt the power in the systems fade so they were once again just the wispy shadow of a phantom passing by.
36: The Grim Reaper Come’ith
EDC Admiral Chelle sat behind his desk contemplating the status of his forces scrolling down his display as they deployed under his alert, even without the heavy ships they were still massive. He turned to a second display showing Major Martin Morgan’s dossier. Jesus, the man is dangerous. As he scrolled down the file he felt a hollow form in the pit of his stomach. What would it really have hurt to let him quietly approach Earth? Damn that Cobb, why do I listen to him? His introspection was shattered by an emergency alert on the command channel. He poked the acknowledgment button with a feeling of foreboding.
“Sir,” An anonymous Major from the command center came into view. “Platform Omega three just flat lined . . . no response to hale.”
“Full alert, Major. I want everybody rolling. Thank you.” He tapped the disconnect and tapped out a quick sequence alerting command level officers to an emergency meeting and directing secure data to the war room. He hesitated for a heartbeat looking at Martin’s dossier. You’ve been going the wrong way for an hour, Major. Lord help us if we need you. He cleared the screen and headed for the war room.
. . .
Five minutes later the EDC command staff were assembled and receiving the first definitive reports on Omega three. “The platform is dead, Sirs. Nothing left.” A Captain reported from a strike fighter.
“Thank you, Captain,” Chelle sighed.
“Roger, Bravo six out.” The pilot replied and vanished from the wall display.
“Sirs, we have the trace information.” A Major from intelligence reported from another wall display. “The attacking ship was definitely one of their killers. It’s not running quiet and is headed directly for Omega two, ETA fifteen minutes. They have been alerted and are fully mobilizing as we speak.”
“Very well, Major. Keep us informed.” Chelle nodded and the display went blank.
A Major at the end of the table looked up. “Sirs,” he had their attention. “Admiral Smyth is on his way.”
“Very well, thank you , Major.” Chelle looked around the table. “Status, gentlemen.”
The various officers were still reporting a few minutes later when the door swung open. “Attention!” The Major at the end of the table ordered.
Admiral Smyth strode into the room. “As you were.” His voice was quiet, but seemed to echo from the walls. He took a chair toward the end of the table and sat without ceremony. The rest followed suit. His black eyes riveted Admiral Chelle. “Talk to me Chelle,” was all he said.
“Approximately fifteen minutes ago perimeter defense platform Omega three went offline. We have verified the aggressor as a Koth killer ship. Currently it is en route toward Omega two. ETA five minutes.” Chelle informed.
“What are those assets?” Smyth asked quietly.
Chelle nodded to Commander Cobb. Cobb cleared his throat before speaking. “Omega three was a type three defensive platform. Omega two is a type one defensive platform with a full compliment of one hundred twenty mixed fighters and support fleet.”
“So Omega two would be considered a hard target by any standards.” Admiral Smyth nodded. “Carry on gentlemen.” He listened intently as the situation reports continued. Glancing at the clock occasionally, He watched the minutes tick by.
A wall display beeped and a second later a thin, gray haired woman with piercing blue eyes appeared. “Sirs, Commander Blair from Omega two reporting.”
“Go ahead, Commander.” Smyth requested.
“We have engaged the Koth . . .” she hesitated and a slight look of fright passed through her eyes. “I have lost over a hundred fighters in the last two minutes, and all but two o
f my light missile cruisers.” She hesitated. “I ordered the survivors to fall back and the rest to scatter.”
“You’ll have another sixty four fighters onsite in less than a minute, Commander.” An officer at the table reported.
Her eyes grew. “Pull them back . . . call them off.”
“I can’t believe this,” Commander Cobb sputtered. “Call them off? Order them to attack in mass and put an end to this threat.”
Blair’s eyes grew hard. “I did that with over a hundred ships, Commander. Some of the fighters were even making suicide runs. They’re all dead now, Sir.” She was almost hissing. “Every brave lost soul . . . this thing is the grim reaper. It destroys anything that comes near it. It didn’t even bother to slow down, just swatted them like flies and kept coming.”
“Contact!” Someone yelled from behind Commander Blair. “Fire at will.” Pandemonium showed on the screen behind her. “It’s too fucking quick to target.” Another voice yelled. “Jesus, we can’t dodge this bastard. He’s right back on top of us.” The display flickered, full of hash. “Defensive weaponry is failing.” “It’s peeling us like an onion.” “God dammit, it’s chewing us to pieces.” It was a chaos of yelling voices.
Commander Blair gazed down from the interference laden screen through teary eyes. “We tried, we can’t stop this thi . . .” The screen went blank.
The room was absolutely silent. “Oh God.” An anonymous voice whispered.
Smyth looked ashen. “And that was a hard target.” His voice was a harsh whisper. “That Koth just took out a first line defensive installation in less that a minute.” He leaned back in his chair. “Gentlemen, we are in trouble.” He sagged running his hands through his close trimmed, curly gray hair. “How could this happen? Why didn’t we have any warning.”
Admiral Chelle closed his eyes in shame. “We were warned, Sir.” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “About an hour and a half ago I was alerted to the possibility of a killer ship attack.”
“By whom and what did you do about it?” Smyth’s eyes glittered.
A Commander from intelligence who had been in the meeting with Admiral Chinn and the two warborgs typed a sequence on his display. A second later the dossiers of Briton, Chinn and Morgan appeared on three wall displays.
Chelle nodded a thanks to the Commander. “It was these three, Sir. I put the EDC on elevated alert.”
Every one was quiet as they studied the dossiers. “Impressive group,” Smyth sighed. “You did right Admiral Chelle.” He turned to the commander from intelligence. “Can you pull up the operational staff that has the most experience in actually engaging the killer ships.” He offered a sad smile. “We need all the help we can get.”
The commander typed a prolonged sequence, did a double take and typed a few more strokes. He looked at Admiral Smyth with a dazed expression.
“Well?” Smyth queried.
The commander shook his head slightly. “You’re looking at them, Sir.” He waved his hand at the wall displays. “I’m contacting them now.”
Almost instantly Briton’s dossier was replaced by his image, Admiral Chinn appeared a few seconds later. Martin’s didn’t change.
“Admiral, Commander.” Smyth greeted the officers.
“Sirs.” Chinn and Briton replied almost in unison.
“Major Morgan is not responding, Sir.” The commander from intelligence reported.
“He may be running silent for some reason and can’t respond, gentlemen.” Briton offered, a glint sparkled in his eye for an instant.
“Very well,” Smyth sighed. “Your Koth killer ship has entered the system. Briefly, how did you ascertain there could be such an attack?”
Briton took a deep breath. “Major Morgan came up with the hypothesis . . .” He started, going on to explain the faint FTL curve and other observations.
“Unfortunately he was so right.” Smyth shook his head sadly. “Now, what can we do about the killer ship? Let alone the suspected armada following it.”
Admiral Chinn looked angry and sad. “The killer ship is your main problem, Admiral. Your defenses would be able to handily beat back the armada. But once your defensive platforms are gone . . .” She gave a frustrated shrug.
“So how do we stop the killer ship?” Smyth asked quietly.
Admiral Chinn studied the group in the war room for a second. “With no heavies . . . and the platforms being easy targets,” her voice grew cold, “you can’t.”
Smyth sucked in a breath. “We can’t, that is an unacceptable answer.” A bead of sweat ran down from his temple. “Do you realize what you are saying, Admiral?” His breath was coming in short panicky breaths. “A fleet the size of the Koth armada would totally destroy all life on Earth in twelve hours, that’s several hours before help from Merced could get here if they left now.” He stood up, shrugging out of his coat. He threw it over the back of his chair and loosened his tie. He sat back down in angry frustration. “I refuse to let mankind become extinct on my watch.” His voice was a primal hiss. “I NEED IDEAS.” He stared at the other officers in turn. “How in the hell did we let them get in this end run?” He turned back to the wall displays. “You two are the experts on this thing, I don’t care what it takes . . . how do we kill it.”
“Only one thing could stop that ship now, Admiral.” Briton stared into Smyth’s eyes with an intensity that made the Admiral blink away. “Warborgs!”
“What!” The intelligence commander sputtered. “That’s no answer. The nearest operational warborgs are at Merced. They’re fast, but they’re not that damn fast.”
“Not necessarily.” Admiral Chinn’s dark eyes shown and she gave an evil grin. “Star Panther, come out, come out wherever you are.”
Martin appeared in the display replacing his dossier. “Major Martin reporting.” His staid voice rolled out matching his calm demeanor.
“What’s your current location Major?” Chinn asked cooly.
“I’m four and a half hours inbound to Earth.” Martin smiled.
“You’re where?” Commander Cobb spat. “You’re in violation of regulations and disregarded a direct order to leave the area. I’ll have you arrested.”
Admiral Chinn glared down from the display. “Would somebody remind the good Commander that this warborg is the only thing standing between us humans and oblivion.”
“Warborgs are not allowed near Earth, and you know it.” Cobb snarled.
Admiral Chelle turned beet red. “Commander Cobb, you are out of order.”
Cobb turned and stared icily at Chelle. “You know the regulations, Sir, and you gave the order.”
“Yes I do, and yes I did.” Chelle hissed with slitted eyes. “Commander Cobb, you are dismissed. Confine yourself to your quarters.”
Cobb stood up and strode from the war room, shaking with anger.
Admiral Smyth gave a hard smile. “Any more borgaphobes here that can’t seem to put our survival above their own petty prejudices.” He gazed at the rest of the officers. “Good.”
Admiral Chelle cleared his throat self consciously. “Major Morgan,” he sighed with an apologetic smile, “thank you for disregarding a stupid, nearsighted order.”
Commander Briton studied the group of officers. “Major Morgan did not disregard your orders lightly, Admiral. But he knew, just as Admiral Chinn and I knew, that if a killer ship did attack, your current defense posture would not be able to stop it.”
“Very well, welcome to the party, Major.” Admiral Smyth gave a solemn smile. “Now what do we do?”
“Gentlemen.” Admiral Chinn’s face was edgy. “I want to say one thing before we begin. It may sound like insubordination and you can take me to task for it later . . . if we survive. I’ve worked with Major Morgan many times and I can tell you from experience, he instinctively understands how the Koth operate and their strategies. Right at this moment Major Morgan is the EDC, if he asks you to do something, do it without question. There is no time for second guessing or meet
ings to decide if something he needs is logical. If you doubt me, remember just who it was that figured out the Koth’s strategy. It wasn’t the EDC and it sure wasn’t me. You have to trust him.” Her face momentarily reformed into a softer smile. “Just like I learned to do.” She paused. “This man and his AI cat are mankind’s only hope . . . and he only gets one shot.”
The war room was deathly quiet. Then silence was broken by Martin’s soft laugh. “Never any pressure on this job.”
Admiral Smyth smiled in spite of himself as he studied Martin. “Major, can you do this?”
“Yes Sir, I think so . . . and with a little luck I might even survive.” Martin’s eyes glittered in his grin.
“Damn straight.” Smyth’s grin matched Martin’s. “You just got your self the Commander and Chief of the Federation Forces as a gofer. What do you need?”
37: The Strategy of Gladiators
How can this man be so calm? Admiral Smyth asked himself again, glancing up at Martin. He looked around the war room and its officers working feverishly. Admiral Chinn still looked on from her wall display, but Martin’s display was replaced with a view from the bridge of his yacht and Briton’s display now scrolled through situation reports.
“The killer will hit Omega eight in three minutes.” A major updated.
“How many of their personnel were they able to evacuate?” Smyth asked quietly.
“Everyone who wanted to go or were deemed unnecessary.” Another officer smiled bleakly. “The platform people know they need to buy time for the warborg to get here and are willing to stay and try to get it.”
Smyth answered with a quick nod. They know staying is suicide, but they stay anyway. I am not worthy to have people like these under my command. The corners of his mouth tightened slightly for a moment. He studied the holotank at the front of the room. The six destroyed platforms were glowing amber dots that clearly showed the path of the killer ship, shown as a red dot, as it burrowed into the Earth defenses. The perimeter defenses of the Omega sector are gone, destroyed in less than an hour. Only the distance between them made it take that long. Now it’s approaching the inner defenses where the platforms are closer together . . . and there is nothing we can do to stop it. His eyes shifted to an insignificant green dot racing toward Earth. One man, one ship . . . one hope.
