-
“Light cruiser Blair is down,” uttered Lieutenant Brooks in a shaky voice.
“I think it’s time for our surprise,” suggested Andrew, looking intently at the fleet admiral. “Most of our ships can’t go toe-to-toe against those Dacroni battleships.”
“I agree,” answered Kurt, as he studied the tactical display with a frown. Other ships were damaged, and, if he didn’t do something quickly, he would lose more ships. He had already lost the crews of the Kline and the Blair; he refused to lose any more human lives.
“Rear Admiral Wilson is nearly in combat range, and he’s launching his Scorpion bombers,” added Andrew. “The Trinity is preparing its hypermissile strike.”
“Initiate Operation Last Ditch,” ordered Kurt. Now he would see if his little trap would pay off. “Order Rear Admiral Wilson to hold off on the Trinity’s hypermissile strike for now. We may need those missiles later.”
Amid the human fleet, four small computer-controlled cargo ships, posing as destroyers, suddenly accelerated forward under full power. Each ship had been equipped with an energy shield, and nearly all the power the ships had available was directed into those shields.
-
“Four human destroyers have accelerated and are heading toward our ships,” warned Third Profiteer Bixt.
“What!” called out High Profiteer Creed, his eyes focusing on the four red threat icons, pulling out of the human fleet formation. “That’s suicide.”
“We’re directing weapons fire toward them,” reported Second Profiteer Lantz, “but they’re still accelerating.”
Creed’s large eyes watched one of the viewscreens, which showed a magnified view of the approaching human ships. One of them was hit with an ion beam, blasting a glowing crater in the bow of the ship. Another was hit with several energy beams, tearing open compartment after compartment.
“They’re still accelerating!” warned Third Profiteer Bixt. “I think they’re going to ram us!”
“Pull us back!” yelled Creed, his eyes suddenly full of fear. Before he could say another word, the viewscreens suddenly filled with light.
-
The four cargo ships were half-destroyed wrecks when they slammed into High Profiteer Creed’s support cruisers. The cargo ships’ Command Centers had been moved to the rear of the ships, in case the forward sections were destroyed in the headlong attack. The cargo ships smashed through the Profiteer support cruisers’ shields, as the sheer mass of the cargo ships overloaded the enemy’s energy screens. Massive explosions lit up space as the eight ships died.
-
“We just lost four of our escort cruisers,” reported a frightened Second Profiteer Lantz. “If one of those ships had struck the Ascendant Destruction, I’m not sure we would have survived.”
“The other three human ships are entering combat range, and they’ve launched over two hundred small attack craft,” reported Third Profiteer Bixt from his sensor console.
“Withdraw,” grated out High Profiteer Creed, his large eyes glowing with anger. “This attack has already been too costly, and it’s only growing more so. We must jump back into hyperspace, before we lose even more of our ships.”
“Jarls will be displeased,” warned Lantz.
“He’ll be compensated for his losses,” growled Creed, turning toward Lantz. “Now get us out of here. We’ve already lost enough credits as it is.”
-
“Admiral, they’re pulling out!” screamed Lieutenant Brooks, her eyes lighting up with relief.
“Calm down, Lieutenant,” Kurt ordered, though he felt the same way.
“It’s confirmed, sir,” Andrew reported, as he listened to the reports coming in from the other ships. “The enemy is breaking off combat and turning away.”
“Let them go,” Kurt ordered. “I don’t want to risk any more of our people or our ships. Have our fighters and bombers follow them just out of weapons range, until the enemy jumps into hyperspace.”
A few moments later Kurt allowed himself to take a deep breath, as the red threat icons on the tactical screen vanished one by one, until they were all gone.
“Enemy has jumped and is on their way toward Earth,” reported Lieutenant Brooks in a calmer voice. They were showing up on the hyperspace detection buoys, and their course was easy to plot.
“We won,” said Lieutenant Mays in a pleased voice.
“It’s over now for Newton,” Kurt said, addressing the command crew. “But it might have just gotten a lot worse for Earth.” Kurt knew that, with the failure of the attack against Newton, the Profiteers would in all likelihood speed up their pillaging of the home planet. “We also lost a few ships along with their brave crews. They died to keep us free, and we should all remember that. A fleetwide memorial service will be held later to honor their memory.”
Kurt’s heartbeat returned to normal, and his breathing slowed down. In a few more weeks the defense grid would arrive, and, shortly after that, his new warships should be ready. It was nearly time to take the battle to the Profiteers and to make them pay dearly for what they had done to Earth and the people living there.
“Take us back to Newton,” Kurt ordered. “We need to get our battle damage repaired.”
“Yes, sir,” Andrew replied, as he relayed orders.
Kurt would send the Vindication back to the Kuiper Belt, where the Newton Princess was waiting. The first load of fleet crewmembers should be about ready. This failed attack should have bought Newton the necessary time it needed. Kurt also planned to let his crews have some leave time, even some for him to visit Newton and Keera. He didn’t know what it was, but he found something about the young doctor extremely fascinating, and he wanted to further explore that relationship.
Chapter Nineteen
Several weeks passed, and Kurt was at a small restaurant with Keera. They had gone out several times now, and each time Kurt became more at ease in the young woman’s company.
“What is this called?” Keera asked, as she used her fork to spear several pieces of food on her plate.
“Fried okra,” Kurt answered with a smile. Keera had a way of making him forget all the pressure he was under.
“You have a number of foods here that are quite different from what I’m used to,” she said, as she took a cautious bite. She smiled and took another. “I must learn how to cook this!”
“My sister could probably show you,” Kurt replied. “She’s a great cook.”
This restaurant was one of Kurt’s favorites, as the food was excellent and the place was not overly crowded. He disliked eateries where the crowd noise was so loud that he couldn’t speak to whomever he was with.
Keera put her fork down and looked seriously at Kurt. “You’ll be pleased to know that Private Dulcet shows some positive signs of improvement. Her mom and dad have been coming daily, and today they brought her younger brother. She said his name without any prompting.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Kurt replied. He was still highly upset about what had been done to her. “How are you adjusting to Newton?”
“It’s a beautiful world. Every time I go out, I find something new and interesting. It doesn’t have the crowds or the pollution that Kubitz has. Even my home world seems crowded compared to here, and it had strict population controls.”
Kurt nodded and cut another slice of the baked chicken on his plate. “When we have more time, I’ll arrange for a shuttle, and we can take a tour of the entire planet. Newton has some really big mountains, as well as some beautiful and deep oceans.”
“I would like that,” Keera said, her eyes focusing on Kurt. “Newton is so different from Kubitz. It almost makes me regret my decision to remain there these last few years.”
“What are the other civilized worlds like?” asked Kurt curiously. “We’re familiar with Kubitz, of course, but the others we’ve explored were empty of any type of intelligent life.”
“The other civilized worlds are unbelievable,” Keera said, her eyes
taking on a dreamy look. “Some cities float in the air, using antigravity. On a few of the older worlds, the entire planet is one massive city. Even in space, there are colonies. Huge constructs orbit planets where millions of beings live. Asteroids have been hollowed out to provide living space, and huge space liners travel from world to world.”
“Why do these civilized worlds put up with the Gothan Empire?” With the technology Keera described, they should easily subdue the Profiteer worlds.
“They’ve been at peace for a very long time,” Keera explained. Some have recorded histories that go back millions of years. The races in toward the galactic core are some of the oldest. To them war is unknown, and violence is nearly unheard of. I know of several worlds I’ve read about that don’t even have a police force.”
“What stops the Gothan Empire from expanding and taking over those systems?” To Kurt it sounded as if they were vulnerable to an attack.
“Not all civilized worlds are so peaceful,” answered Keera. “Enough planets are protected by large warfleets to keep the Gothan Empire and others like them at bay. For access to some of the technology of the core worlds, they extend those worlds their protection. Their ships are so advanced that the Gothan Empire wants no part of them.”
“I see,” Kurt said. “So the Gothan Empire, while it occasionally raids the ships of these worlds, is careful not to become such a nuisance as to provoke any type of retaliation.”
“Precisely,” Keera said with a nod. “You saw the defenses around Kubitz. A number of other worlds in the Gothan Empire have similar defenses, particularly Marsten, the capital. While these civilized worlds could probably take out the Gothan Empire, it wouldn’t come easily or without substantial losses. Much of the technology used to defend Kubitz and Marsten has been stolen from some very advanced worlds.”
“You mentioned there were other worlds like the Gothan Empire.”
“A few scattered across the galaxy,” Keera responded, as she took another bite of her fried okra. “For the most part they leave the more advanced worlds alone and only trade among themselves. They occasionally wage small wars against one another over valuable star systems they come into conflict over.”
“I may go to Marsten someday,” Kurt said, thinking about what had been done to Private Dulcet and to Earth.
An empire that practices such depravity should be made to pay the consequences for such acts. However, a punitive visit to Marsten was far in the future. He also wanted to learn more about the defenses around Marsten and those at Kubitz. It might not be a bad idea to put together an intelligence team and send them to Kubitz to study the defenses.
“I would stay away from Marsten,” cautioned Keera with a concerned look on her face. “No good can come from going there.” She paused and took a sip of her tea. “I love this tea. We have nothing like it on Kubitz.”
“It’s one of our favorite drinks,” replied Kurt. “There are a number of different varieties with unique tastes.” He could recall his mother making sun tea on the porch, when he and Denise were much younger. Those times were so much simpler than now.
“I want to try them all,” announced Keera. Then in a more serious voice, she said, “Kurt, please stay away from Marsten. Very few people who go there in anger ever return.”
“That’s a long time from now,” Kurt assured her. “Presently I have to worry about Newton and driving High Profiteer Creed from Earth.”
Those were his highest priorities. Sometime in the next few weeks, the defense system for Newton should arrive. Once that system was installed and tested, this war would take a different turn, as he planned to go on the offensive.
Keera nodded. “Your sister has invited me to go shopping with her tomorrow, once I’m finished at the medical center. While I’m here, I’ve been sharing with your doctors some of the medical treatments we use. They’ve been very helpful and are highly interested in what I have to show them. A number of devices and medicines for sale on Kubitz would be so useful to your people.”
“Make a list, and I’ll have Lieutenant Tenner look into it.”
Keera was so generous with her time and her skills and her knowledge. She hadn’t indicated any desire to return to Kubitz, and he hoped she didn’t for quite some time.
-
Captain Nathan Aldrich waited nervously for the hatch to open on the Profiteer shuttle, which sat on the runway of the airport. With him was a full squad of Marines, guarding the two armored vehicles, each carrying eighty bars of gold. This was the second tribute payment at the higher amount the Profiteers had demanded.
“We shouldn’t be giving them this gold,” muttered Corporal Lasher. “We may need it ourselves someday.”
Nathan didn’t answer, as he looked around the perimeter of the airport. Like all airports it had been shut down since the invasion, and only a few planes left occasionally and then only by permission of the Profiteers. For the most part the airport was empty with very few people moving about. Only a few maintenance and security people were present, and they were keeping their distance from the shuttle. Nathan thought he could see a few people in the control tower, watching the proceedings from its large windows.
“Did you see how the people looked at us, as we drove through the city?” asked Private Malone, cradling his assault rifle in his arms. “There was hate in their eyes, because we’re the military and haven’t done anything!”
“Look, the hatch is opening,” said Corporal Lasher, gesturing toward the shuttle.
The large hatch opened, and a ramp extended until it touched the tarmac. A moment later, half a dozen heavily armed Profiteers emerged and walked to the waiting Marines.
“I have your gold.” Nathan spoke in a calm and measured voice to the one who appeared to be the leader.
“Open the trucks,” demanded the Profiteer. “I want to see our gold.”
Kurt gestured to his Marines, and the large doors were swung open.
The lead Profiteer then checked each truck, quickly inspecting the gold and counting the bars. As always another group of Profiteers brought antigravity sleds to load the gold and take it to their shuttle.
The Profiteer returned to Nathan with a contemptuous gaze. “Next month the tribute will be three hundred bars of gold and fifty thousand carats of gemstones.”
“What!” uttered Nathan in a stunned voice. “We agreed upon eighty to begin with, and then you increased it to 160. We may not have that many bars of gold left, and I’m not certain about the gems.”
“You will deliver the gold here and the gemstones, or you will lose a major city,” the Profiteer said coldly. “The tribute must and will be paid. This planet is no longer yours. It is ours!” The Profiteer then returned to the waiting shuttle, along with his five escorts.
“Let me shoot him,” muttered Corporal Lasher in a low voice, as he clicked off the safety on his assault rifle. “We could storm the shuttle and take it.”
“No,” replied Nathan, wishing they could do as Lasher suggested. “We need to get word of this increase to the government and see how they want to handle it.”
“What if we can’t produce the gold and the gems?” asked Private Malone.
“We have four weeks to figure it out,” Nathan said, as he watched the Profiteer shuttle take off. “Let’s get these trucks moving and report back. They won’t like what we have to say.”
-
High Profiteer Creed stood in the large hold of the cargo ship Zental. Twelve pallets filled the bay, holding gleaming yellow bars of gold, as well as numerous cases full of precious gemstones.
“The humans were not happy with our increase in the tribute,” Fourth Profiteer Cade announced. “I thought one of the human soldiers would fire on us.”
“The North American Union seems to be the one in control of the majority of the gold and gemstones on the planet, or at least the others are following their lead. I suspect they will pay the tribute.”
“I would suggest we send down a heavily armed party a
nd a number of shuttles to furnish aerial coverage when we go to collect,” said Cade. “I’m not sure the next time will be so peaceful.”
“I’ll have Clan Leader Jarls provide support,” Creed replied.
He was still irked at how much Jarls had demanded for the Profiteers’ failed attack on the human colony world. It had been a very expensive attack with one Dacroni battleship destroyed and four of his own escort cruisers. When this cargo ship left, he would send orders for four new cruisers to replace the ones he had lost. Reparations would have to be paid to the families of the dead crews, plus bonuses to encourage crewmembers to sign up for the new ships.
“There is more resistance each day to our Profiteers on the ground, seeking out this planet’s riches,” commented Fourth Profiteer Cade. “It’s only a short matter of time before the entire planet erupts in open revolt. It may be time for us to move into their larger cities and sweep up any gold or other valuables that might be stored in them.”
“I will summon more detainee ships and additional cargo vessels,” Creed said. The ships would be needed for what he planned on taking from Earth. “It’s time we wrap up our business with this world.” Even once they were gone, he planned on returning and making occasional raids against the planet to take more captives to be sold on Kubitz. If he handled things properly, Earth would be a source of income for many years to come.
“We also need more Profiteers to search the cities, if we want to finish this,” added Cade. “We’re already stretched too thin.”
Creed shook his head in dismay at the thought. More Profiteers would mean the profits from this venture would have to be split more ways. However, he recognized the wisdom of what Cade was saying. If he didn’t bring in more Profiteers, they might never strip this world of its valuables before it became too tenuous to hold. If he were forced to nuke too many cities, then the expense of extricating the wealth from the planet would go up exponentially.
The Star Cross Page 26
