The Star Cross

by Raymond L. Weil

  “Not completely,” Kurt answered. “Three Dacroni battleships left Earth orbit to travel the same route as the missing convoy.”

  “What does that leave around Earth?” asked Captain Simms.

  “Fifteen Dacroni battleships, three Profiteer battlecruisers, and six escort cruisers. There are also four large detainee ships and two cargo ships in orbit as well.”

  “So what will we do?” asked Governor Spalding. “We can’t let them nuke Earth!”

  “We might not be able to prevent it,” answered Kurt, meeting the governor’s gaze. “I’m giving the crews on the new ships eight more days to prepare, and then we’re setting out for Earth. Whether we can stop the attack or make a difference is unknown. A lot will depend on how many losses the Profiteers and the Dacroni are willing to suffer before they withdraw.”

  Spalding was quiet as he digested this news. The governor knew they had no other choice but to attempt to help Earth, or Newton would become home to the last survivors of the human race.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Kurt sat on the front porch of his sister’s house with Bryan next to him. Kurt had taken a shuttle for a quick visit, as the fleet would shortly be departing on their mission to Earth.

  “So you’ll fight the aliens,” Bryan said with an excited look in his eyes. “I’ll bet they’ll fly away when they see the Star Cross coming after them.”

  “I hope so,” Kurt said. Denise had gone to pick up Keera at the medical center while Kurt watched the six-year-old.

  “I’ll be a fighter pilot someday,” announced Bryan, as he stood up and spread out his arms, as if he were flying. “I can be your second in command of the whole fleet.”

  “You need to finish school first,” Kurt reminded him with a smile. “You have to do well in school, if you want to become a pilot.”

  Kurt really loved being around Bryan. His nephew was full of energy and had so many big plans. Kurt could remember his own childhood. His dreams had been simpler, becoming a firefighter, and then, for a while, a race-car driver. Denise had constantly followed him around, normally carrying a doll and demanding that Kurt play with her. Now here they were together on another world.

  A vehicle pulled up, drawing Kurt’s attention, and he saw Denise and Keera get out.

  “They’re here!” yelled Bryan, running over and grabbing Keera by the hand. “Uncle Kurt’s over this way!”

  Keera laughed and allowed Bryan to pull her to Kurt, now standing. “I wish I had that much energy,” she said, grinning.

  “Don’t we all,” commented Denise, carrying several small bags. “I picked up some chicken, so we could have something to eat. I hope you’re hungry, big brother.”

  “I’m always hungry,” Kurt replied.

  “Come help me with the chicken,” Denise said to Bryan.

  Kurt watched the two go inside and then turned to Keera. “How are things at the medical center?”

  “Better,” answered Keera, taking Kurt’s hand. “Lucy has more of her memory back and is in treatment for the issues she’s dealing with as far as her actions at the pleasure house go. I think she’ll be okay.”

  “That’s good to hear,” responded Kurt. “How’s it coming explaining some of the medical practices to the other doctors?”

  “Slow,” she admitted with a slight frown. “The medical center doesn’t have some of the more modern equipment that I had available on Kubitz.”

  Kurt nodded in understanding. “I sent your list to Lieutenant Tenner. I’m sure he can find what you need and have it sent here.”

  “That would be great,” Keera said, stepping a little closer to Kurt.

  Without thinking, Kurt pulled Keera to him, putting his arms around her, and kissed her. For a moment, Keera seemed to hesitate and then responded fervently.

  “Yuck!” said Bryan from the doorway. “That’s germy! Mom said the chicken is ready.”

  Kurt stepped back from Keera, who had a slight blush on her face. “Let’s go inside and eat.”

  “Just remember,” Keera said in a demure voice. “You promised that, when you return from Earth, we could go to the mountains.”

  “We’re definitely going to the mountains,” answered Kurt, his heart pounding. Keera had a powerful effect on him anytime they were close.

  “And your favorite color is blue?”

  “Yes,” answered Kurt, still confused about why she wanted to know that. “It always has been.”

  Keera nodded with a satisfied look on her face. Taking Kurt’s hand again, they walked into the house.

  -

  The next day Kurt was back in the Command Center of the Star Cross. In another few hours, they would leave the Newton System and fly to Earth. He just hoped they all made it back.

  “The Kubitz cargo ships are jumping into hyperspace,” reported Lieutenant Lena Brooks.

  “That only leaves the two Kubitz construction ships and the one cargo ship,” said Andrew, as he looked at one of the main viewscreens showing Newton Station.

  On the screen two massive construction vessels nearly the same size as the Kubitz cargo ship were holding position in close proximity to Newton Station. Hundreds of engineers and construction people from the two ships were busy working on completing the shipyard and installing a new ship construction facility.

  “Lomatz is still here,” commented Andrew. “Do you feel safe leaving Newton with the arms dealer still around?”

  “Grantz is keeping a close eye on him,” responded Kurt. “He doesn’t get his particle beam cannon and the plans to build one until this contract has been completed.” It was one way Kurt felt confident that Lomatz would do as he said, as he really wanted that cannon.

  He had met with Grantz earlier and had given him another bar of gold in payment for rescuing Lucy. The Profiteer had sworn to Kurt that he would make sure the arms dealer didn’t pull a fast one while Kurt was away.

  “I also had more Marines assigned to Newton Station to ensure we maintain tight security,” Kurt told Andrew.

  “Rear Admiral Wilson reports that his task group is ready to jump,” Ensign Brenda Pierce informed Kurt from Communications.

  “Have him proceed to the jump coordinates and initiate entry into hyperspace,” ordered Kurt.

  Rear Admiral Wilson’s task group included his flagship the Kepler, the light carrier Dante—plus the Vindication, once he rendezvoused with Captain Watkins—and light cruisers Dallas, Hampton, Alton, and the Birmingham. In total he would have seven vessels in his small fleet.

  Kurt’s own task group would consist of the Star Cross, Carlsbad, Trinity, eight of the new battlecruisers and three of the new battleships. The exploration ship Himalaya had been refurbished into a battlecruiser and would remain at Newton with the other two new battlecruisers and the remaining new battleship, plus all the destroyers.

  “Move us toward the jump point,” ordered Kurt. He was anxious to get this mission started. “We’ll jump ten minutes after Rear Admiral Wilson’s task group does.”

  It would take two days to reach the Kuiper Belt where the Vindication was waiting. That was one day before the Profiteers were supposed to pick up their tribute from the nations of Earth. Kurt planned on them receiving a tribute, but not the one they expected.

  “Rear Admiral Wilson’s task group is jumping into hyperspace,” reported Lieutenant Brooks, as the seven green icons vanished from her sensor screen only to reappear on the hyperspace sensor.

  “Ten minutes until hyperspace entry,” reported Ensign Styles, as he started a timer.

  “Did you say good-bye to Emily?” asked Kurt, looking over at Andrew, who stood near him.

  “Yes,” Andrew answered. “I called her early this morning. I spoke to her and to Alexis.”

  Kurt nodded. “I told Denise good-bye this morning as well.”

  “What about Keera?” asked Andrew with a knowing look.

  “Her too,” Kurt admitted. He didn’t tell Andrew that he had spoken the longest to Keera.

>   Looking around the Command Center, Kurt watched the crew, busily preparing for the hyperspace jump. He had a good crew, and he was confident they would do their best to get through whatever was ahead of them.

  “Hyperspace entry in five minutes,” Ensign Styles said.

  “The hyperspace sensor is tracking Admiral Wilsons’s task group,” confirmed Lieutenant Brooks.

  “All stations report ready for hyperspace entry,” reported Andrew, as he listened to the different departments check in.

  Kurt watched the counter on the helm and navigation console continue its count down.

  “Hyperspace entry in one minute,” reported Ensign Styles, as he reached forward and turned control of the Star Cross over to the ship’s navigation computer.

  “All task group units report ready to jump,” Ensign Brenda Pierce informed the admiral.

  The final seconds ticked by, and then the Star Cross suddenly accelerated and made the jump into hyperspace. Kurt felt the all-too-familiar gut-wrenching sensation in his stomach; even his eyesight blurred briefly, and then everything returned to normal.

  “Hyperspace entry successful,” reported Ensign Styles.

  Kurt leaned back in his command chair and relaxed. They had a two-day trip to Earth’s solar system and then a brief war council before they launched their attack.

  -

  President Mayfield was in the situation room along with Fleet Admiral Tomalson, General Braid, and Raul Gutierrez.

  “I just received word from Captain Watkins on the Vindication.” The president paused, making sure he had everyone’s attention in the room. “Fleet Admiral Vickers will be launching a full-scale assault against the Profiteer and Dacroni fleets the day after tomorrow.”

  Everyone in the room looked at each other with sudden hope showing in their eyes, except for defensive coordinator Colonel Stidham. He stared at the president with a confused expression on his face. “I don’t understand, sir. I thought Fleet Admiral Vickers didn’t have the ships to take on the enemy.”

  “He does now,” Fleet Admiral Tomalson answered. They had received a message over a week back detailing the completion of the defense grid above Newton as well as the arrival of the new warfleet Kurt had purchased at Kubitz.

  “What are your orders, sir?” asked Colonel Stidham, standing a little bit straighter. The room had grown so quiet as to hear a pin drop.

  President Mayfield turned toward General Braid. “Put us on a war footing, General. It’s time we showed these Profiteers that they came to plunder the wrong world.”

  “Yes, Mr. President,” General Braid replied. He then turned to address the men and women in the room. “I want all primary military units activated and ready to engage in combat operations at a moment’s notice. There’s a good possibility the Profiteers will attempt to nuke us, when they see they’re losing the battle. It’s imperative that all our interceptor missiles are operational and ready to launch. Have all our F-75 Eagles ready to take off, plus our K-14 Vulture fighter-bombers with full interceptor missile payloads. We have thirty-six to forty-eight hours to prepare for all-out war. Let’s not waste any time.”

  “What about the tribute payment?” asked President Mayfield, looking over at General Braid. He had nearly forgotten about that, since receiving Captain Watkins’s startling message.

  “I have a plan for that,” Braid replied with a wolfish grin. “I believe Captain Aldrich will be quite pleased with my idea.”

  -

  On the day of the tribute, High Profiteer Creed looked with relish as numerous shuttles descended to Earth to pick up the gold and gemstones to be turned over. This one tribute would more than double everything he had taken from the planet so far. Surprisingly the North American Union had volunteered to meet the tribute for the entire planet. It made him wonder just how deep their coffers ran.

  “How much gold do they have hidden?” asked Second Profiteer Lantz, his eyes gleaming with greed.

  “Evidently more than we had thought,” Creed answered. “And here on this planet.”

  “Then it wasn’t all taken to their colony,” Lantz said. “It was hidden here all this time.”

  “Not for much longer,” Creed answered. “Once we have today’s tribute, I want all four detainee ships filled with the best-looking women and enough able-bodied young men to fill our accounts from what we’ll make at the slave auctions.”

  “Are we going to nuke the planet?” asked Lantz. “If we do, we can’t return for more humans for the auctions.”

  “We won’t completely destroy the planet,” Creed replied with a smug grin. “I’ve selected a few island nations to spare. With the rest of their world in ruins, we can return at a later date and take those we want from the islands.” This would ensure him a lucrative slave-selling income for years to come.

  Lantz nodded his appreciation at the idea. “All of us will be very wealthy from what we have taken from this planet. This world was a good find.”

  Creed nodded his head in agreement. He would buy the land on Marsten he had always wanted. His status as a Profiteer would be assured for all time. Profiteers for generations would talk about how High Profiteer Creed had made his fortune and rose to prominence. Yes, Creed was quite satisfied with how this would turn out.

  -

  At an abandoned airstrip once called Area 51 in the desert some eighty-three miles north-northwest of Las Vegas, Captain Aldrich and his Marines waited. The large military airfield next to the southern shore of Groom Lake was the site of considerable activity. Nearly one hundred armored vehicles were lined up just off the runway, waiting for the Profiteer shuttles to land.

  “Is everyone ready?” asked Captain Aldrich.

  “Yes, sir,” answered Corporal Lasher. “All armored vehicles are at their assigned locations.”

  “Here they come,” announced Private Malone, as twenty Profiteer shuttles appeared.

  Nathan tapped his comm device, which instantly put him in touch with the two hundred men and women now under his command. “Let them land and exit their shuttles. We have a plan, and let’s stick to it. No firing until I give the order.”

  Nathan, Corporal Lasher, Private Malone, and four other Marines stood just on the periphery of the large runway, when the first shuttle landed directly in front of them. Exactly where Nathan had hoped they would land. His trucks were lined up in groups of ten, and, as expected, a shuttle landed directly before each group. The other shuttles took up a high orbit around the airfield.

  The shuttle before Nathan opened its hatch and out came ten heavily armed Profiteers. Behind them came another group, dragging the antigravity sleds.

  The leader stepped toward Nathan and gazed at him arrogantly. “Is the tribute ready?” the Profiteer demanded.

  “Yes,” Nathan said, very pleased to see the same Profiteer who had come for the tribute the last three times. Looking up and down the airstrip, he saw all the shuttle hatches were open with some, if not all, of their alien crews outside, ready to receive the gold. “Open fire!” he yelled over his comm. Instantly the back doors to the armored vehicles swung open. Small railguns mounted inside on heavy metal tripods fired at the Profiteer shuttles.

  Without a moment’s hesitation Nathan drew his 45-caliber pistol from its holster and fired one shot right between the eyes of the stunned Profiteer leader, who promptly dropped to the ground, dead. Nathan heard Corporal Lasher, Private Malone, and the other four Marines with them open up with their automatic weapons. Other Marines along the runway added their weapons fire, and the Profiteers died in mass.

  Railgun rounds slammed into the open hatches of the shuttles, causing explosions inside. Other rounds tore gaping holes in the hulls. Black smoke came from several of the shuttles, darkening the sky. A large explosion shook the ground when one of the shuttles exploded, throwing debris into the air.

  After a moment the stunned Profiteers began firing back, and the hissing noise of energy weapons was heard. However, the sudden surprise attack by the Mar
ines had already eliminated most of the Profiteers. In less than a minute, the battle was over. Dead Profiteers lay sprawled across the runway as well as a few unfortunate Marines, who had been hit by energy weapons fire.

  Nathan looked up and down the line of grounded shuttles; several were burning, and the rest emitted billowing clouds of black smoke. There was a gaping hole in the runway where one shuttle had exploded. “Implement operation Undercover!” Nathan ordered, as he turned and ran. Corporal Lasher, Private Malone, and the other Marines were right behind him. No doubt the orbiting shuttles would shortly retaliate for the attack against the grounded shuttles and Profiteers.

  “Damn, that felt good,” yelled Corporal Lasher, as they ran toward a small concrete building with an open door. The rest of the Marines arrived there as well, with a few carrying wounded.

  Nathan stopped at the entrance and looked back at the runway, then pressed the switch on the remote control detonator he carried. Instantly the preplanted explosives detonated, blowing several more of the shuttles apart. Fire leaped high into the air, and secondary explosions racked the remaining shuttles. Satisfied that none of the alien shuttles were going anywhere, Nathan entered the building.

  Once inside the Marines quickly made their way to a wide stairwell and went down.

  A few minutes later, they were inside an old Cold War bunker, buried deep beneath Area 51. Marines milled around, as they found places to sit, while the massive entry doors were shut and sealed.

  Suddenly the ground seemed to heave up, and the lights went out. Nathan could hear people yelling, and then the emergency lighting came on.

  “They nuked us,” commented Corporal Lasher, as he looked nervously around. The shelter appeared to have held up. A little bit of dust was in the air, but the walls and ceiling were intact.

  “It was a small nuke,” Nathan said, as he sat down with his back against a wall. He knew that the surface above them would be a burning inferno.

  “What do we do now?” asked Private Malone.

  “We wait,” answered Nathan. “We should be okay down here. When it’s over, someone will come for us.”