Drake's Rift: Taurian Empire

by Nate Johnson

  “Oh,” she said as she brought a hand to her lips. “I am sorry. I didn’t know.”

  The memory of his wife washed over him. He could still remember his daughter's smile. The way her eyes would light up when she was happy. He could still remember the smell of his wife’s hair and the way she felt in his arms. Some memories time could not erase.

  “I was on a discovery patrol. The old I.S.S. Essex. Six months in deep space looking for new planets. A first lieutenant. I didn’t get the word until we got back. By then they had been buried for three months.”

  A cold shudder ran down his spine as his mind brought up the sight of the two graves next to each other.

  Janet gently reached over and placed her hand on his knee, “I am sorry Mac. I didn’t know.”

  He smiled kindly. “That’s all right, it happened so long ago, yet sometimes it feels as if it had happened yesterday.”

  She nodded slowly, and the two of them sat there quietly for a moment. Both of them lost in thoughts of what might have been and what should have been.

  After a long pause, Mac smiled and waved his hand over the hologram.

  “Now then, Janet,” he said, “the reason I asked you here is to go over the last reports from Intrepid. I want to get your thoughts and any insights you have. If we are going to win this, we need to understand who we are dealing with.

  Janet looked as if she were taken aback for a moment at the quick shift in the conversation. But she swiftly brought her focus back onto their true problem. How did they make sure that no more daughters were lost to their fathers?

  Chapter Six

  Dex looked around the room and sighed. His brothers-in-arms. His fellow Marines. Every sergeant and officer in the battalion. They looked like a bunch of kids on Christmas morning. Waiting to open their presents.

  Major Brown was finally going to reveal their objective. They were finally going to learn what they would be doing during the attack.

  “Gentlemen,” the major said as he held up his hands for quiet. “The Second Battalion has been selected for a special mission.”

  The Major smiled and waved his hand over the center table. A hologram came into view of a long V-shaped valley.

  “I give you Drake’s Rift. ”

  You could have heard a Valerian squirrel fart, Dex thought as each man leaned forward to get a better view.

  Two long mountain ranges converged at the bottom apex of a V-shaped valley. The opening facing north. Several more mountain ranges with straggly peaks were piled up to the south behind the valley.

  A rushing waterfall fed a small creek that made its way down the valley, running north, hugging the mountain range on the right for several miles before it crossed over and ran along the left side until it disappeared over the horizon.

  Strange trees, tall and thin, dotted the side of the hills. The floor of the valley itself was wide open dusty grassland. Two separate groups of herd animals were grazing under the mid-day sun. Kairns, Dex thought, remembering a hunting trip on Intrepid a few years earlier.

  A small village sat inside, to the right of the V apex. A large house with a full veranda sat on a small hill to the left.

  Dex pushed aside a small feeling of longing. The place looked bucolic, peaceful. The kind of place a man could treasure. He looked up at the major, his brow furrowing in confusion.

  “Sir,” he said, “where are the aliens? They’re sending in a full battalion to protect a village?”

  The Major smiled and pulled his hand back. The hologram shifted to show an expanded view.

  “Tannerville,” he said. “Sixty miles south of Drake’s Rift. Separated by a continuous chain of mountain ranges. Like saw teeth. One after the other. We believe the majority of the aliens are here. In Tannerville. General Thompson will be landing on the plain north of the city. Here.” The Major pointed to a wide area of land. More than enough room for two divisions of Marines.

  “The second object if Clarkson,” the major continued as the hologram swept rapidly to a new view. “Over three hundred miles to the north. The second largest city on Intrepid.”

  Now every Marine was frowning, trying to understand the significance of their objective.

  The Major, seeing their concern smiled slightly.

  “There are only two ways to get from Clarkson to Tannerville. Along the coast. Over sixteen different bridges. Or through the natural cut in the mountains here at Drake’s Rift. ”

  Once again, the hologram shifted to show the small village. The major pointed and a small circle appeared highlighting a small separation in the rock cliffs at the base of the V. Zooming in, they could see a sixty foot wide cut in the cliff face.

  “This is the back door to Tannerville. General Thompson is worried that once he lands, the aliens will send reinforcements through here and hit him from behind. If they get through. It could screw up a good day. Maybe even change the course of the battle. It is our job to stop them.”

  “We aren’t going to be in on the real attack?” Captain Andrews asked. Dex nodded. Exactly the question that needed to be asked. If they didn’t go in with the attacking force, they might not get into the action.

  “Won’t they come down the coast, it’s shorter?” the captain added.

  The Major shook his head. “The Navy’s going to take out each of those bridges, hopefully, when they are filled with aliens.”

  “Why don’t they take out the Rift, ? Hell, a squad with a butt load of explosives could do it.”

  “Because,” the major said, obviously fighting to maintain his patience, “those cliffs are solid granite. It would take a week to drill and set charges. And it’s too small a target for the Navy. Too tight, too narrow. Besides, the divisions will be coming up through that Rift on their way to Clarkson. After they shut down the front door along the coast, it will be the only way to carry on the attack of Clarkson.”

  Dex nodded, it made sense, but he still didn’t like it. They’d be left out of the action. No marine liked being left out of a good fight. The last thing he wanted was the ration of shit his platoon would take from the guys in the thick of things. They’d never hear the end of it.

  “Sir,” First Sergeant Puller asked. “If these aliens do send reinforcements. How many are we looking at?”

  The major frowned as he looked down at the hologram. “It depends. Intel says they might have as many as five thousand at Clarkson.”

  Several of the men gasped. How were three hundred men going to hold back five thousand? They might be Imperial Marines, but they weren’t gods.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” the major said. “But if it does, our orders are to hold until relieved. You’ve all seen the reports out of Intrepid. All seen what these monsters are like. This is a fight to the death, no surrender, no retreat. They cannot be allowed to get through that Rift. Do you understand?”

  The men around Dex nodded, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Each wondering which was worse, missing all the action or being in a fight for their lives.

  The major started laying out the deployment of the different companies. Pointing out landmarks and where he wanted to place outposts. Areas he wanted to be scouted. Dex let the information wash over him. He knew they’d be studying the details for the next week as they got ready to drop down to the surface. By the time they got there, the information would be a part of his soul.

  Five thousand aliens, Dex thought. Five thousand unknowns. It was enough to make a man pause and consider the problems. What tactics would the aliens, these Scraggs, use? What were their weapons like? How about high powered stuff, air coverage? Would the Navy be in place to protect them? What about the alien fleet?

  A thousand different things flashed through his mind all at the same time. Basically, they were going in blind against superior numbers in a fight that might determine whether the human race survived or not.

  For the first time in his life, Dex felt a deep nervousness. A sense that this was more important than anything
he had ever done or would ever do. In fact. It might very well turn out to be the most important thing anyone had ever done. A fleeting sense of worry rushed through him. Would he be up to the challenge? Would his men hold up? And what would happen if they failed?

  .o0o.

  Doctor Janet Sinclair twisted in her swivel seat away from her monitor and looked out over the semi-darkened control room. Thirty men sat focused behind their monitors. Each tapped into a dozen different data streams.

  This was it, they had finally reached the jumping off point. Once they passed through the final wormhole, there would be no turning back.

  Her insides turned over, would she survive the day? she wondered. Would she be alive to tell this story once they were done? Would any of them be alive?

  With her brow scrunched up in confusion, she wondered how they did it. Sit there so quietly, focused on their job. How did they pretend that they weren’t about to enter into a life-altering arena that may very well result in the destruction of the fleet, if not humanity itself?

  Shuddering, she tried to focus once again on the reports coming out of Intrepid. She scanned the pictures. Looking for anything that would give her a clue as to how to defeat these monsters.

  That is what they are, she had come to realize. There was no better word for them. They might think and behave like humans. At least on some levels. But they were monsters. Pure and simple.

  She knew her scientific mind shouldn’t allow such biases. But it was hard not to after seeing what she had seen.

  The Scraggs, as Commander Evans called them, had spent the last three weeks rounding people up and herding them into holding pens. Men, women, and children. Sweeping through every building in Tannerville. Killing and destroying any who tried to stop them.

  Once the humans were gathered into several different open-air corrals. The monsters would dip in every so often to pull an unlucky person from the horde. Then kill them right in front of everyone by ceremonially eating them. Quite often, they would start while the person was still alive.

  Janet had stared at the crowd of people, crying and screaming as they watched. Her eyes could not look away from the pain and misery. Mother’s watching their children dismembered. An old man being dragged through the gates feet first, kicking and screaming.

  Monsters. Each and every one of them.

  As she watched the screen changed to show Admiral McKenzie, Mac, in his full space pressure uniform.

  Twisting in her chair she turned to look at the man directly. She wanted to watch this live, not on some screen.

  He sat in the center of the room in his command chair, surrounded by three different monitors. A bank of screens on the bulkhead behind him.

  The man looked calm and confident. Not a doubt in his eyes. Janet wondered briefly about the weight resting on this man’s shoulders. Her heart went out to him. They had become close over the last few weeks. Spending their evening meals together discussing the threat before them.

  Mac had used the opportunity to talk out his thoughts. To explore options and try and determine motivations and weak points of the enemy. Janet had tried to help him. She had let him brainstorm and ramble. All without judgment. All the while, afraid if she said the wrong thing he would miss something important. Or she might send him off on the wrong tangent.

  Now, here he was, ready to send over thirty thousand men to their possible deaths and he looked as cool as a Sunday parson before his congregation.

  “Men of Task Force Thirty-Two,” he said as he glanced over at her and gave her a small smile.

  Turning back to the camera, he continued, “We are about to embark on a great crusade. Our mission, to save humanity.” He paused to allow his words to sink in.

  “For millennia, our species has scraped and clawed our way up out of the jungle to reach the stars. Through hard work and endless toil, we have developed a great civilization. Built on the idea that all people are created equal. That life is important and should be protected at all costs.”

  Janet held her breath, she had never heard the command room so quiet. And she knew for a fact that the entire fleet was just as quiet, each man leaning forward to make sure he heard every word.

  “Today,” he continued with a slight frown, “Our species is threatened. Our history is in danger. The work and sacrifice of our ancestors is placed in doubt. Even the possibility of future generations continuing the long line of humanity is in question.

  “You, the men of this Task Force, are all that can stop the human race from falling into oblivion. Forgotten. A footnote in some other species history.

  “You, the men of this Task Force, are the wall. The force that will stop the tide of evil.

  “You, the men of this Task Force, are humanities answer. You are the people who will save us as a species. Not because your emperor asks you to. Not because your family and friends are depending on you. No! You will save us because you are the meanest, baddest, sons of bitches the universe has ever known. In the history of our people, no fleet, no group of men has ever had so much power, so much skill and been so determined. There can be no doubt. You will rain down death and destruction on our enemies like they have never seen.

  “Never doubt, never waiver. Do your duty and we will succeed.”

  The admiral paused once again then nodded slightly and said, “Captains, execute phase one. I.S.S. Pine, you have the honor of leading us through.”

  Janet felt the goosebumps rise on her arms as she stared at the man in the command chair. Turning slowly, she observed the rest of the room.

  Men seemed to be sitting a little taller in their seats. Their shoulders didn’t seem as slumped or burdened. More than one man shot his neighbor a quick smile. It was on and there was no turning back.

  Chapter Seven

  Admiral McKenzie took a deep breath and once more scanned his star charts and the layout of the enemy.

  They hadn’t shifted an atom since his task force had entered the space around Intrepid. It was as if the aliens were purposely ignoring them. As unconcerned as a man hunting fruit squirrels on Siska. Tthey didn’t react because they weren’t worried.

  Not a good sign.

  Twenty-seven alien vessels in orbit around Intrepid. Occasionally, a small shuttle would shoot down to the planet’s surface or another would lift off and rejoin the fleet.

  But other than that, no change. A small chill ran down his back. It would not be that easy, he knew. A space battle was a long, boring affair with brief moments of sheer terror.

  With the distances and speeds involved. A battle could take days to play out. Ships maneuvering and jockeying for position. All for those few brief seconds when they could rake each other with murderous fire. Fighting desperately to obtain that killing shot before the other guy found it.

  Shifting around, he addressed his wall of Captains, as he liked to call it. Each screen showed a different man. Each one responsible for a different vessel. The top left held a picture of Rear Admiral Weber, commander of his five Marine Transports, the screen next to it held a picture of General Smyth, commander of the ground forces once they landed.

  “Gentlemen,” he said, addressing each of them. “Is there any reason not to execute phase two?”

  A wall of silence greeted him. A few shook their head but no one offered a reason not to go forward.

  “Very well.”

  Turning to address the men in the room around them, he said, “Command staff, any reason not to execute phase two?”

  Again he was greeted by silence, except for a faint “No, Sir,” from the back of the room.

  Okay, here goes, he thought. Everything was laid out. Every movement planned down to the ninth degree.

  Nodding his head, he said, “On my mark, Task Force Thirty-Two is to execute phase two.”

  The Admiral glanced again at the screen showing his fleet. Twenty-Nine ships. Each one traveling thousands of miles per hour. Separated by five miles of black space. Everything must be done in concert, he thought
. A millisecond off could have two ships colliding and a tenth of his force out of the fight.

  “Stand by ... Execute.”

  At the very front of the fleet, two large oar carriers out of the planet Corona slowly opened their massive cargo doors.

  “I hope you’re ready for us,” the merchant captain said.

  “Don’t worry,” Lieutenant Commander Marks of the I.S.S. Pine responded. “We are in place and will pick you up.”

  The merchant captain nodded, then reached forward and pushed a button.

  Impulse engines fired on both of the monstrous ships.

  Mac smiled to himself. His wrinkle was about to be executed. Several rather large asteroids had been pulverized to fill those ships. Reduced to tons and tons of gravel. Now, with the ship slowing slightly, the cargo continued on, flowing out of the opening and into space.

  The ships maneuvered again, expanding the wall of rocks in front of them. Working to spread them out until they covered thousands of square miles.

  A small rock might not seem like much of a threat to a starship. Such a small amount of mass, surely it wouldn’t be deadly. But connect that mass to a high rate of speed and you increased the kinetic energy to the equivalent of high explosives.

  And there were now millions of them headed directly for the alien fleet. Too many to be shot down or destroyed.

  If his staff had done their job correctly. Those rocks would be arriving at the same time the largest of the alien vessel came around the far side of the planet.

  Because his own vision of the enemy was obscured by the wall of rocks, he had stationed the old ISS York out to the far right to peek around the edge of the stone wall. Her sensors were now the only thing monitoring the Scraggs.

  He focused on the screen for a long moment. But there was nothing. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, “Okay, Task Group Thirty-Two Point One, take your positions.”

  “Roger, Sir,” Commander Hall replied.

  Twelve yellow flairs lit up the blackness as the twelve small ships of Task Group Point One brought themselves in behind the wall of rock. Hidden, Mac hoped, from any radar.