The Battle for the Ringed Planet

by Richard Edmond Johnson

  “All right.” Torian handed Jarlan his Con. The older man held it up to his right eye and to Torian’s surprise, directed a thin beam of almost invisible red light into the device.

  “I’ve given you coordinates. Far south of the city under the rings, the land is worn away and you’ll find the facility. Tunnels and caverns will led you under the city and partially there.”

  “What is it?”

  “The Outlawed Lands...” Siiri half whispered, “Where the Wild Ones roam.”

  “And I’ll be able to turn off the shields, and get rid of the voices in Siiri?”

  “The access codes are there in my old lab. Look for the office marked Jarlan Almquist. I have not been to it for a hundred years, but all the secrets your fleet is after are there. You will have to see it for yourself to believe it.”

  “Somehow I don’t think I’m going to like what I find.”

  “No, McCallum, you won’t. But know this … we were an arrogant and cocky bunch. Several thousand Scandinavians and Germans, we belonged to a secret society hunted by military agencies on Earth. You see, we bred to be special. We came from a gene pool selected for exceptional intelligence, and dormant traces of something more advanced. So we came here, and set up a colony and experimented.”

  “And you messed up.”

  “More than you can imagine, McCallum … but it wasn’t our fault. No one knew that this world was …” he broke off, and began to gather a few more things. “I’d show you myself, but I need to be with my people.”

  Torian nodded and glanced over at Siiri. Her frightened blue eyes, pleaded with the wiry young man, “We’re not going to the Outlawed Lands …”

  Jarlan continued, “The shield controls are under the city and beneath a building called ‘the Needle’. But it’s protected. You’ll need the access codes and my DNA to get inside.”

  “Then you’re coming …”

  “No …” the priest motioned to Siiri, “She can get in.”

  The tall off-worlder extended his hand to help Siiri up while he stared curiously at the cleric, “She can get by … oh.”

  “What?” she rubbed her head.

  “That’s correct, McCallum.” Jarlan reached into his robes and pulled out a bluish crystal stick about three centimeters long.

  The flight specialist glanced at Siiri, then Jarlan and asked, “So how many villagers are your descendents?”

  “Most of the adult survivors were women.”

  “That must have been tough for you.” Torian commented ironically and holstered his pistol.

  “I did what I had to do, but unfortunately, all my direct line is plagued by the voices.”

  “Torian, what is he talking about?” Siiri steadied herself against the tall off-worlder.

  “Meet your great great grandfather.”

  Siiri turned her head slowly to look at Jarlan, and then stared at him in disbelief.

  “Well, McCallum, I need to get going.” Torian nodded while Siiri continued to stand by, silent and confused.

  “Here.” The priest tossed Torian the blue crystal object.

  “What is it?”

  “A key. You’ll need it when you get to the Outlawed Lands.”

  Chapter 8: Starhawks

  The young man and woman climbed up the stairs inside the tunnel by the waterfall as it continued to rock from the explosions on the surface. When they finally reached the top, Torian shone his light on the generator off its housing. Now cracked and crooked from the pressure of the water, it was about to snap off at any moment.

  “It will be hard to replace that.” Siiri commented dryly.

  “Your people might get relocated, that is if they want to be.”

  “Can you make that happen?”

  “Not me, but if this place turns into a warzone, they would be refugees. The 4th fleet could transport them to safety. But if the Imperium finds them first …”

  “Let’s not talk about that.”

  They continued their climb up the stairs to the tunnel junction that led to the city, “So these tunnels go right to the city?” he asked.

  “They dragged me through them all the way.”

  “We’ll find out what’s wrong with you and get you treatment.”

  “I hope so.” In silence, they walked on, cautiously making their way through the dim shadows of the tunnel staying together and aware of their surroundings with the help of their flashlights and Cons. She was pensive while he wondered what secret lay ahead in Jarlan’s laboratory facility.

  “The bombing stopped.” He commented dryly, breaking the silence.

  “Is that good?”

  “At this point I don’t know. Underground we can only scan large shapes above us, and I can not see any in the sky.” Then he continued, musing, “They could be mixing it up in orbit.” He paused, staring ahead down the tunnel and scanning for movement, “Rats.”

  “There are lots and lots of rats down here.”

  “Give me back my pistol.”

  “No, I need it for protection,” then she added in an undertone, “and I won’t let you draw on me again.”

  “You’ll shoot your foot off, or my foot, or some other body part I’m fond of …”

  “The Con had instructions on how to use a Glock-Ruger 27, so I studied them.”

  “Fine, Ok, tell me about it,” he sighed.

  “It shoots a little tungsten alloy ball that is ionized into a plasma bolt. An internal nanochip designed to withstand very high temperatures guides the ball. That’s how the targeting works. It shoots out bolts at an extremely high velocity and when one hits a human body it leaves a very big hole.”

  “And the safety?”

  “It has an integrated trigger safety. To release the trigger, you have to depress the lower half here …” she raised the pistol to show him her finger position, “… which means if I accidentally let the pistol drop it won’t go off.” Siiri looked down to hide a smirk when she noticed his surprised expression.

  Torian was not entirely convinced just yet, “So you know how the targeting works?”

  “You showed me how to link my Con to it.”

  He added, “The targeting will work even if you aren’t pointing at it, but only under a 90 degree angle. The nanochip can’t compensate beyond that.”

  Then he glanced at her Con, “Acquire one of those rats.”

  “All right,” she brought up a holo and selected a rodent scurrying a few meters away.

  “Go ahead.”

  Siiri drew the pistol, aimed generally in the direction of the rat and let loose an invisible plasma bolt with a loud click. Most of the rodent incinerated instantly, the few remaining tufts and bones lay in a smoldering heap on the ground. She casually slid the weapon back into her holster.

  The young man gave a nod of approval, then reached into his utility belt and pulled out a clip, “Now change mags.” He tossed her a small rectangular black object.

  She caught the clip one-handed as she slipped her Con into the belt slot, and then deftly drew out the pistol. While she released the clip and replaced it with the new one, she continued, “The magazine holds exactly 100 balls, 4 across, 25 deep.”

  “And an overshot?”

  “Um …” she bit her lip, “I don’t remember that.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Then he gave her a glimpse that she took as grudging admiration, “All right, you pass.”

  The blonde-haired girl beamed, but Torian waved his finger. “But we are no match against a single marine, so don’t to get too confident.”

  “Thank you, Torian.”

  Walking down the tunnel ahead of her with his flash light magnetically clamped to his Con, he replied, “You are far more clever than I gave you credit.”

  “I have to be clever if I want to stay alive.”

  “Yeah …” he kept moving along the smooth tunnel until he came to a stop, and then turned back towards the girl, “Dammit!”

  “What?”

  “Take a look.
It’s blocked ahead. It might have been a cave-in from the bombing.”

  “We’ll have to backtrack.”

  “If we take the surface route, is there another entrance close by where we can get back underground?”

  “Not until we reach the city.” Her voice was full of worry, “We might run into the bad soldiers. Can they spot us?”

  “The prox shields mask us a little bit with a low energy yield, but they could zero in on our Cons. We’ll have to be extra careful.”

  They turned back in silence while Torian studied his Con intently; searching for any sign of enemy activity, but the ground distorted the signals impairing the results.

  In frustration, he sighed and stared ahead, then turned back to Siiri, “Not getting much of an idea what’s going on.”

  “I guess we’ll know when we get up there.” Then she peered over at him in the dim light with a sly look, “So … do Sky Demons have girlfriends on their planets?”

  “Some do. And some Sky Demons are women.”

  “Well then, what about you?”

  “Tell me about Brant.”

  She sighed slowly and after watching her struggle for a moment, he relented, “You don’t have to talk; I know it’s a sensitive subject.”

  “No. I should get it out.” Gathering her thoughts she continued, “Our school has about a 100 students. Father Jarlan is the head of it though there are other adults that teach. My senior class had 15 students, 8 girls and 7 boys; most are married now. You remember Mikael?”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry about what happened to him.”

  “We all grew up together, and we were all best friends. People paired up as relationships formed and if Father Jarlan approved, we were allowed to marry.”

  “What if he didn’t?”

  “Usually he had a good reason, at least so I’d heard. He never stopped a marriage that I can remember.” She paused, and then looked up at him, “Brant was tall, handsome, and athletic. In winter when the river was frozen most of the boys played hockey, and he was good at it. In the summer, they played soccer and he was really good at that too.” Siiri mused, “It was always the east side against the west side, and since we are both from the east side, I always cheered for his side. We went hunting together and to dances together; we did everything together. I was crazy in love with him and I thought he loved me too. He worked all winter for Lothar in order to barter for the engagement ring he gave to me.”

  “Then the voices came?”

  “Yes. It was hard to conceal them, but at first, he was very protective of me. Almost immediately after it started Father Jarlan seemed to know, and at a town meeting announced that I was to be cast out into the city.”

  The sadness showed in her posture as she stared down on the ground, “We were at the wedding of a classmate when the constable came looking for me. Brant knew what was happening right away and snuck us out. Then when we found a hiding he spot, he made all these promises to keep me safe and how we would escape into the city …” she took a deep breath and began to tremble, “… then something changed. It was like switch or something and he became a different man. He made demands … told me to take my dress off, or he would turn me in …”

  “It’s all right Siiri. I think I get the rest …”

  “It didn’t make sense to me. I thought he loved me and I mean I would have anyway if he had been nice. We were going to be married … but it was brutal, hateful and I kept begging him to stop! When he was through, he called the constable! Why? What did I do?”

  “Nothing. You did nothing wrong. Some men take advantage.”

  She went on in a rush, “When they chained me up, he ripped the engagement ring off my finger!” She let out a long ragged sigh, “He gave it to my best girlfriend!”

  “That’s rough,” he watched her eyes. “But it’s in the past.”

  “You’re right.” Then just as softly, she replied, “Though I shouldn’t even be alive, thanks to you.”

  “I could still get us both killed.”

  “Let’s not think about that.” She held up her flashlight, “I’ve told you my depressing love life, now what about yours?”

  “Nah, there’s nothing to tell.”

  “There must be somebody, some girl that fell for a brash young Sky Demon?”

  “Not worth talking about.”

  “Hey, I poured my heart out!”

  “And that was good, now I understand you better, and how your trauma may affect your judgment if we have to fight the enemy.”

  Grumbling, she glanced away, “You men are all the same, no matter what planet you come from!”

  Torian did not answer, and sulking, Siiri did not say another word either as they trudged along in the blackness of the tunnel. When they reached the entrance, he crouched low and peered outside while examining the readings of his Con. She kneeled close beside him with her hand resting on her holster.

  “It looks clear out there.” He whispered.

  “No rebel soldiers?”

  “Not within scanning range. We should reduce our signature, switch off your Con and I’ll link mine to your pistol.”

  “Done.”

  “Out there we’ll need to cover each other’s back. Marines wear armor that can resist the plasma, especially their helmets.”

  “And they have plasma rifles?”

  “Yeah, assault rifles, fully automatic, 500 bolts a minute with a thousand round magazines, or a backpack with a feeder. But …” he pointed to his Con, “our technology is better. We’ll stay clear of the Callisto crash site.”

  Keeping low with his pistol in one hand and his Con in the other, Torian slowly led them the long way around the woods. Close behind, Siiri crouched with both hands on her pistol peering around nervously.

  Everything was deadly quiet; no bird noises, no animal movements, even the wind had died down and the tree branches that hung over their heads were still. There were no more explosions or sounds of battle. Suddenly Siiri touched Torian’s shoulder and pointed into the clear blue morning sky. Almost a dozen bright lights were visible and looked like a long slow line of stars in daylight.

  “Battle cruisers. Hopefully ours, trying to secure orbit and space superiority.” He paused as the last three stars broke formation and began to move across the sky. “They’re after something.”

  Then his Con beeped in his earpiece and he turned and pushed Siiri to the ground, “Fighters!”

  “Oh no!” she remembered when Brant and the others were killed and cringed. Then Torian relaxed his hand on her back and stood up.

  “Torian?” she peered up at him as he watched the sky.

  “Ours! Starhawks, come see. They have their ground targets.”

  She stood up, looked up into the distant sky above the treetops, spotted four sleek dark grey and light blue space fighters with needle-like noses, and swept back wings that mounted huge plasma cannons on each end. They were targeting objects on the ground and flashes of light and thundering vibrations rocked the earth below them. Suddenly the wing of one Starhawk caught fire and began to smoke, but it managed to remain in formation.

  “They hit one!” Siiri pointed.

  “Yeah, but I think he’ll make it.” They watched as two of the Starhawks peeled away and Torian checked his Con, “Solvairs, but only two. Looks like a dog fight.”

  “Wow, they are amazing watch.”

  “As long as you’re not on the receiving end … I always wanted to be a Starhawk pilot.”

  A Solvair with a Starhawk on its tail caught fire, while the other began to climb away. “Their fighters can climb faster than Starhawks in an atmosphere, but they aren’t as maneuverable. So they swoop down, try their luck then climb back out.”

  “Looks like that Solvair ran out of luck,” she commented as their eyes followed the trail of smoke from the stricken enemy fighter as it plummeted, then impacted on the ground and exploded.

  Turning to the tall man in the navy blue flight suit beside her, Siiri remarked, “Why
didn’t you become a Starhawk pilot? Didn’t you have a choice?”

  “No …” then he paused, collecting his thoughts, “Selunia and Kanata have about the same gravity, a little heavier than earth, our bones are stronger and heavier than the average. Most recruits from my planet become marines, and they say Kanata marines are among the toughest.”

  “I think you are pretty tough. I mean it was a brave thing to face the hunters in my village.”

  Looking away slightly embarrassed, “I don’t know about that … everyone in my recruiting class became marines, and got a nice easy assignment on an a practically all ocean planet guarding the fresh water supply, relaxing on imported sandy beaches.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I started training as a marine, but my dad wanted me to have a trade before I got a farm, a wife, too,” he grinned. “So I enrolled in the polytechnical college for a year studying robotics, since we have a lot of automated systems on the farm. My technology score was the highest in my recruit class, so when there was a shortage of LRRS specialists, they pulled me out of the mud and here I am.”

  “Lucky for me.”

  Gazing warmly at the lovely girl, “Yeah, I guess.”

  Torian and Siiri crept through the woods for most of the morning all the while keeping their eyes on the sky as he scanned with his Con. The day was hot and they drank water in the metal bottles from their utility belts. After taking a drink, Siiri pointed to the sky again. In the distance, five bright moving stars were visible, lined up against three other stars.

  “Another battle …” Torian commented as the stars remained relatively stable, “Probably launching fighters and trying to blast the hell out of each other.”

  Siiri shaded her eyes with her hand and watched in awe, her mouth slightly open. Suddenly, one of the stars in the line of five flashed brightly, turned red then slowly began to dim into darkness.

  “What happened?”

  Grimly, Torian replied, “One less cruiser.”