“The capital ships have huge computers, designed to monitor and control thousands of the Cow-Robots on any planet they were harvesting. So, we’ve reprogrammed them to control the 1,100 delivery ships. We’ve worked up a couple of scenarios based on attackers with different abilities. The instant an attacking force enters our system, the capital Ship’s computers will categorize them and initiate the attack scenarios. A preprogrammed number of our ships will be allocated to each of their ships, and our ships will follow specific attack plans of swarming them with squadrons of frigates and supply ships. The destroyers will stand back and be used selectively. The entire process is automated, and that was how Beta-Zero contributed. He put together all the scenarios and did the programming. Here sir, let me demonstrate the various attack plans with the 3D projector.
“Mr. President, in his first demo, you can see that once the attackers are seen, our computer categorizes them and assigns the defensive forces.”
“Will it happen that fast?” the president asked, as EDF icons separate into squadrons and move towards the attackers.
“It should move that fast. We are using the full capabilities of the computer. Sir now watch as they approach the targets, the individual gun-boats swarm the nearest target, then as they take that one out the swarm moves to the next target. The frigates attack after the gun-boats have softened them up.”
“Looks good, but what happens if they attack with just big stuff, like our capital ships?” the president asked.
“Well sir, if that happens then we go to a fleet defense. In that scenario, the capital ships are like aircraft carriers, and we’ll form ten fleets with a mix of battleships, frigates, and gunboats attacking at once. If we’re attacked with ships larger than our capital ships, we’re in trouble. We’ll have to adjust, and we’ll change our tactics. At that point, we’ll revert to an attack plan using multiple capital ships against one of the attackers. If we’re outnumbered, we’ll pull back and make a stand around Earth. Sir, I can make only so many promises. Remember a while ago we could barely spell spaceship and only a few of my people can be considered qualified.”
“Admiral, I understand. I do not doubt what you’ve done. The amount of work that all of you have put in is amazing. I’m not saying that you’ve done anything wrong, I’m hinting that we need to think ‘out-of-the-box,’ we may be faced with something we’re totally unprepared for. If that happens, I’m sure that you’ll find a fallback plan.”
“Lastly, Mr. President I’d like to introduce you to one of our key Marines. Sergeant Robles, please stand up and come here,” said the Admiral
Sergeant Robles stood and walked briskly across the carpeted room and saluted the Admiral sharply.
“Yes sir,” spoke Sergeant Robles.
“Mr. President this is Sergeant Paol Robles, he led a mixed team of combatants that supported the Navy fleet in the Atlantic.”
“Paol it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the president said as he stood, took a few steps, and shook the man’s hand.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” the president said as he continued to shake the sergeant’s hand vigorously with both hands.
“Sir, the pleasure is all mine,” responded Sergeant Robles.
“Mr. President, Sergeant Robles has put together a team of Space Marines. They are highly trained with the best equipment that we have today, and we plan on assigning ten of them to each of the capital ships. We don’t know how they will be deployed yet, but it seems like a prudent thing to do. I hope we never get in the situation where we have to have hand-to-hand combat with aliens, but we’d all rather be prepared than to be surprised,” stated the Admiral.
“We’re modifying some of the Cow-Robots as boarding devices for the Marines. They’ll have the necessary suits and use the modified Cow-Robots for transportation between ships or to a planet’s surface. With the light armaments of the Cow-Robots, they should be very effective when manned by trained Marines.”
“Admiral, I agree ten0%. From what I’ve seen you have picked the perfect man. Sergeant Robles, good luck, and I hope we never have to use you, but I’m glad you’ll be there.” said the President.
Sergeant Robles saluted the president, and President Patterson returned it.
San Diego Military
In times of stress and survival, people find bonds. They find others seeking comfort and intimacy. That is what happened between Colonel Ron Beal and Tech Sergeant Joyce Bennet. Under normal circumstances, the relationship would never have happened. Beyond the difference in rank, there was a difference in backgrounds.
Working together and trusting their lives with each other, crossed the natural boundaries and after relying on each other during combat, they relied on each other in their downtime. There was no talk of marriage, but an acceptance that the world had changed and any mutually beneficial relationship was worth consideration.
The battles they shared against the invading robots showed each of them that they could trust each other. When the Cow-Robots stopped their invasion, their emphasis went from survival to rebuilding the world around them.
The remaining forces in San Diego came together after the Cow-Robots stopped. They built a small community on Coronado Island. The remnants of the 3rd Fleet and surviving members of the Naval facilities around San Diego formed a nice group of about 450 people. The island provided sanctuary and community.
Commander Timothy Barbour sat in the restaurant of the famous Coronado Inn. The cavernous room seemed empty, even as his friends filed in and took seats around him. The coffee was hot, and each took a cup before they sat down.
“Good morning, all,” Tim said as the last were sitting down.
“Glad you could make it. I got an update from Hampton this morning that we need to talk about. There is a lot happening, and some of it affects you. The President and Vice President Hagerly are looking at the sub deployment, and they’re trying to move a couple of them here. They’re sending two Columbia class. One will stay here, and the other will move on to Hawaii. We need to go through our stores and find anything they can use. Both of them will need our support when they arrive. The one bound for Pearl will dock here, load stores and undergo what repairs we can help with before they move on. The other one will stay here and patrol our coast. So, we need to set up operations the best that we can.”
The small group greeted the news with enthusiasm. Most of them were Navy people and supporting a boat would get them back into the kind of routine they were used to.
“Ron, Joyce have you been having good luck with the local inventory and supply runs?”
Society had broken down, and the military command structure was gone. But leadership remained. Commander Barbour had reverted to ‘Commander,’ or on occasion just Tim.
“The Cow-Robots that were reprogrammed are helping us a lot. It has been a little difficult going from fighting them to using them, but I think everyone is making the transition okay. We’ve covered about 30% of the city with three teams, and we have a pretty good idea of the layout,” answered Joyce.
“Ron, how about the people?”
“Sir, we got about ten per day for a while. But it’s dropped off over the last week. We’ve heard rumors about gangs controlling much of LA, and we need to prepare in case some of them try to move in on San Diego,” responded Ron.
“All I can suggest is that we keep up the patrols and not let anyone get a foothold. I’m reluctant to trust human nature and hope they keep out. Let me know if anything changes.”
“Yes, sir,” Ron Beal responded.
Mexican Gangs
Fernando Felix De Francisco was a small person. Small in size, but also intellect. He knew that he was far from being the ‘sharpest tool in the shed.’ He learned that from what little school that he attended. He did know that he had a different kind of smarts. He knew how to survive. He knew who to trust, who to keep an eye on and how to protect himself.
It was also that sharp street instinct that told him how to take advant
age of a situation. When the virus struck, he was a mule. He carried drugs from Tijuana Mexico to LA. It wasn’t the best job in the world, but he did it well. Early on, he learned how to act. If a mule sweated or looked worried, he was sure to be picked up. Fernando learned the trick to look like he had made the trip hundreds of times. Moving through the border checkpoints had become a source of pride for him. He had gone beyond being concerned about being caught; he had moved on to the point where he laughed at the stupid guards that didn’t know what he was doing. Sometimes, he even waved at them, smiling and acting like he knew each one of them personally.
He also learned how to avoid messing up a good thing. He knew that if he made the trip too often, then he would be caught, so he focused on moving only the high -priced merchandise.
Instead of working for the big cartels, he was more comfortable working for the smaller gangs. The big cartels used trucks and cars and weren’t interested in the small amounts a single person could carry.
Fernando was comfortable with providing the service to the middle and lower layer of drugs sellers. He provided good service, and they paid him well.
As the virus was taking its toll, he found that moving back and forth was getting almost too easy. Eventually, there was only one guard, and then there was none.
At first, it seemed like a dream come true for Felix. He could move as much as he wanted whenever he wanted. Then he found one small flaw in his plan. When he got to LA, he was running out of people to sell the stuff too. One by one they were disappearing, and Felix had to work harder each time. Eventually, there was no one left who wanted the stuff, but that also meant that there was no one left to pay him. At that point the game changed; it was no longer fun.
For the next couple of weeks, life was hard. Felix tried to stay south of the border, where he knew the people, and he felt at home. He walked over the border and broke into a house by the beach north of the border and even though the house was nice, in many ways it was no different. He had to scrounge for food and fight off crazy people that wanted to kill him just because he was walking down the street.
Over time, he understood protection and the only way he would feel protected was to have people around him; people who would fight with him against others to protect their group. Loyalty to the group was the key, and if he found ways to keep them happy, then the loyalty would remain.
The first step was to find allies. If he could find one person to support him, then the two of them would protect someone else then he would have three. He knew that organization was the key and he immediately began building his group of loyal friends. Others would join with him and as a group as they dealt with the outsiders. Slowly his group grew and took over more of the opportunities. Even though he was north of the border, his reputation was spreading, and his group was becoming a mix of people from the entire region. They were Mexican, American and some had even made their way north from El Salvador and Honduras. Felix didn’t care, as long as they were his type of people.
His focus moved from moving and selling drugs, to staying alive. There weren’t any drugs coming from the normal sources, because they didn’t exist anymore. There wasn’t anyone to sell the drugs to, because they were dead. A new business model was needed.
Tuesday, October 31, 2051
Burlington Prepares to Depart
Captain Darlene Drummond sat in her command chair onboard the Burlington. Naming the Jakeel capital Ship the same as her carrier was fitting. It was the only way that she could pay homage to her lost shipmates.
The ship that once was the Burlington was now a huge battle platform that was unable to move from its moorings. Not necessary to be named.
Okay, here I am. About ready to order my ship into another solar system to meet with another alien race. Wow, she thought to herself.
BG was standing beside her and waiting for the final orders. He was standing at parade rest, with his back straight and his hands behind his back.
“Beta-2, is the power up and all of the systems online?”
“Yes, Captain,” the unit responded.
“Beta-3, are we on course for the jump point?”
“Yes, Captain,” the unit responded. “We should pass the jump point boundary in 12 minutes and 32 seconds.”
“Beta-5, tell the fleet that we’re leaving our solar system.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Darlene had made a couple of ‘practice’ jumps as each ship and crew had for training. To avoid any conflicts or unknowns, they jumped to the space between systems. Not too far, and close enough that another crew could retrieve them if something happened. This jump was different. She was actually jumping to another solar system. Not only that, but she had a group of alien passengers on board, which she was taking home.
Alien passengers? she remembered. “I think we’d better check on our guests,” Darlene said to BG.
It was common sense not to expose them to much of the Burlington’s operation. They didn’t need to know much about the ship, crew or its operation. It was prudent not to include them.
Darlene and BG walked through the command center pressure door and into the modified hallway which crossed to the ‘guest space.’ On Joan’s ship, it was where Bob Shappel had set up his celestial observation space, but in the other capital ships, it was a general use area. In Darlene’s ship, it was modified for their guests.
“Izary, we are transiting to your solar system,” Darlene said as she entered.
“Excellent Captain, we are eager to be home,” Izary said through his translator.
Darlene hesitated for an instant before responding. She needed to listen to the translation-verification, that SIMPOC had set up in the ship’s computers. No one wanted to put too much faith in the Izod and particularly in their handheld translation device. Everything was recorded, and the ship’s computer compared its translation of the Izod with what their handheld produced.
“I’m sure it will be,” Darlene responded. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk more about how we’re going to handle this.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“We’re charging back into your system without any warning. Convince me again, that we won’t be attacked.”
“Captain, there is no reason to think that we will. When we left our system, we anticipated meeting with you and returning. Our home systems don’t know about the attack, and they’re expecting us. We will be entering through a slightly different point because our FTL system is different from yours. Aside from that, we should be welcomed back.”
“Sounds reasonable. Please tell me again, how your part of space operates,” Darlene asked. True, she had gone over this a couple of times, but it never hurt to hear it again. She might learn something new.
“Captain, the Terest began exploring our region of the galaxy about 1,000 years ago. Remember our years don’t translate directly into your term. Our planets are part of numerous systems, and we still refer to a Tere as one rotation of our home planet Terr around its sun. Even though we have spread through numerous systems, we still use the basic Tere. When compared with your definition of a year, our Tere is 412 of your days.”
“Yes, Izary. I understand the difference in time. Go ahead.”
“There are regions of space that are inhabitable because of many reasons. Adjacent to our home system there are a few which support our species, and those are the ones that we migrated to. They are closer to each other than to our homeworld, and they naturally formed a closer bond. Over time, a separation developed. Our home planet continued to develop their technology and the outer systems developed their resources.”
“Within our two systems, there are six planets that support us. True the climates vary, and we can survive on them although only two are ideal. The others are well suited for mining and food production.”
“That’s nice, but tell me about the politics, and the technology,” Darlene said with some frustration.
“Over the years, the two systems shared more and need
ed less from Terr. We ended up with multiple political philosophies. Terr worked to gain more control, and our system wanted independence. I am from the Nexter system, and our adjacent system is Vilot. Both are names from our shared histories.
Vilot was our God of War and Nexter was his General on Etom. Our history tells of Vilot always trying to control the other Gods. They fought constantly and often fought over Etom. Nextor was his General on Etom, and he always frustrated the other Gods as they tried to control the home planet. We took their names for our two new worlds because we felt that Terr was trying to control us, as the Gods were trying to control Terr.
Vilot and Nexter are run by a combination of corporations and Terr is run by a strong leader who wants his will to be supreme over all Izod, and his name is Telorr.”
“Terr lacks resources, so it developed the technology. Vilot and Nexter have abundant resources, and we tend to make products that are durable and cost-effective. We have found a balance, of sorts. Terr needs our resources, and corporations need customers. Even though we are at war, trade continues, but it is a contentious relationship. They steal from us when they can, and we inflict damage on them when we can. We need each other, but we fight.”
“Does either of your planets have leaders?” Captain Drummond asked.
“We have leaders and Governments, but they have limited control. They focus on the issues on their planets and try to balance the control of the corporations. As I said we have six corporations and they have concentrated their businesses on separate needs. One controls the agriculture, another controlled mining, and a third the energy. The other three have a mix of core competencies.”
“Yet you are called Izod, and they are Terest?”
“Yes. To the Terest, Izod is a derogatory name. On Terr, there is a creature called the Izod. It is a disgusting creature that steals eggs from others and eats them. It is considered a very poor creature in our culture. The Terest began calling those of us from the outer planets Izod because they accused us of taking from them. Over time, we took pride in the name and began to identify with it. Now we call ourselves Izod as a name of pride.”
Earth II - Emergence Page 8
