“Ohhkay, men. Let’s kick some Jerrollite butt!” A roar erupted from the soldiers standing around the ship as they followed Johann into the building.
T’lal was frantically trying to contact his home world to inform them of the situation on Earth. Growing more frustrated by the minute, he slammed his fist into the communications console, sending sparks and smoke flying in all directions. He howled in pain as his fist made contact with the hard metal, sending white-hot jolts of pain shooting up his arm. T’lal jumped in surprise as the entire building shuddered with the impact of another large projectile. Spinning around from the console, he covered the area of the command center in two large strides and brought himself face to face with his subcommander.
“How did this happen?” he asked, standing toe-to-toe with the younger officer. “You reported no military capability was left on this planet! Does this look like no capability to you?” he said, gesturing wildly as he looked around the wrecked command center. The subcommander drew himself up to his full height and swallowed convulsively before answering. Seething anger evident on his face, there was no way he was going to take this treatment from this pig of an officer.
“Perhaps if you had not been so involved in exploring Earth’s beverages, you would have detected this situation before it occurred!” said the subcommander. As the words left his lips, he immediately regretted uttering them. T’lal turned slowly, his frenzy of a moment before now replaced by a cold, emotionless stare.
“Commander—” the subcommander began but was cut short by the sizzle of an energy weapon being discharged. He looked down at his chest to see a gaping, bloodless wound where his heart should have been. His eyes returned to the commander as his body fell lifeless to the floor.
T’lal returned his weapon to its holster, grunting in satisfaction as he did so. He spun on his heel, walking away from the subcommander’s body.
“Any other accusations?” he asked, addressing the personnel in the command center who were standing around with their mouths hanging open. In response to his question, everyone quickly averted their gazes from the body on the floor and back to their consoles.
“I didn’t think so,” said T’lal, harrumphing as he took his seat in the center chair. He was glad to finally be rid of that insolent pest anyway. Now to deal with these upstart humans in a way they would never forget. Spinning in his chair, T’lal addressed the entire center. “What do we have left?” he asked in a low, deadly voice.
A young soldier stood up. “Sir, when the ships on the ground were attacked, they were loaded with soldiers. Twenty-eight ships were destroyed, with all hands lost. Two of our ships got away and are currently keeping station in orbit above us. They are standing by, awaiting your orders.”
T’lal let his head come to rest in his hands. Twenty-eight ships lost, each with a crew of 150 faithful Jerrollites. With a grim look of determination on his face, he realized that his career was over and that he would probably face a firing squad when and if he got home. With his communications facilities smashed, he had no way of contacting the home world and informing them of the situation. With only two ships left, he could most likely defeat the human force outside, but there was no way he could maintain control of the entire planet. His thoughts were interrupted by a squawk coming from one of the ground-to-ship channels. He turned toward the console and raised an eyebrow to the soldier manning the console.
“Contact has been made with our ships that got away, sir. They inform us that a large, Mariner-class battleship is just on the other side of the moon, sir.” After a pause he added, “It appears to be the USS Hercules, sir.”
T’lal felt the heavy weight of certain doom descend on his shoulders. “A battleship?” he asked incredulously. “All of the human space cruisers were reported as destroyed!” T’lal wondered how much more of their intelligence was in error. If the human military still had an operational battleship, he was in grave danger. Coming to a decision, he ordered his soldiers into action.
“Prepare a message buoy detailing all the events of the last couple of hours. Set its destination for the home world. Launch on my command. Get me in contact with those ships,” he said.
The young soldier scrambled to obey his commander. “Contact established, sir; go ahead.”
“This is Commander T’lal. You are ordered to send both of your ships to attack and destroy the human battleship. Do not fail me.” The hidden threat in T’lal’s words was not lost on the ship’s commanders.
Their response came quickly. “Acknowledged.”
The soldier severed the link with the ships and prepared the message buoy T’lal had requested. “Buoy ready, sir.”
“Launch,” said T’lal. A distant rumble could be heard as the buoy launched itself from the hangar and streaked out of sight.
“Everyone gather your weapons and follow me!” T’lal said as he drew his own and started for the exit. As he reached for the door, it erupted in a spray of flame and debris. T’lal was thrown back against his own men, all of them sprawling onto the floor. Johann and his men streamed into the room, sporadically firing their weapons as Jerrollites attempted to bring their own weapons to bear. The thick smoke made it difficult to see. Only muzzle flashes and occasional discharges from energy weapons illuminated the room. Pandemonium reigned as Jerrollite after Jerrollite fell, screaming in agony, their lifeblood spilling onto the floor.
Johann waded through the smoke in an attempt to find the Jerrollite commander. He scanned the room, his eyes coming to rest on a large pile of Jerrolite bodies.
T’lal was lying face down. . He could feel the human commander’s breath on his neck. T’lal was hurt but not fatally. He decided that if he must die today, it would be on his terms and not lying on the floor like a coward.
Johann walked around the room, checking fallen bodies, trying to determine which one was the commander. Eyeing a uniform that looked more decorated than the others, he went over to investigate. Bending over to look at the corpse more closely, Johann was surprised when it rolled over and grabbed for his neck. Jumping back out of range, he brought his boot up and smashed it into the face of the Jerrollite commander. T’lal’s consciousness faded into nothing.
Realizing that he had just kicked the Jerrollite commander in the teeth, Johann smiled. The thought gave him a kind of sadistic pleasure as he bound the commander and ordered one of his men to take him out to the ship and keep him under guard. Every other Jerrollite in the room had been killed, so Johann wanted to make sure this one got back to General Matheson for interrogation. Occasional shots rang out in the building as his troops moved through and ferreted out the remaining Jerrollite soldiers. Johann opened a portable communication link.
“General Matheson, do you copy?” he said. The response was almost instantaneous.
“I’m here, Johann. How goes it?” the general asked.
“Mission is accomplished, sir. We’ve met the wizard and kicked his butt, just as promised! Performing mop-up operations now.”
“Glad to hear it. The Hercules is currently under attack. We could use your help as soon as you can make it.” Johann could hear the sounds of battle in the background.
“Yes, sir. The cavalry is on the way! Over and out.” Johann keyed in the recall code on his communicator and began to make his way back to the ship.
From outside, the Pentagon looked like it had just been through World War III. Pockmarks and streaks of black stood in mute testimony to the battle that had been raging only moments before. His men were assembling just outside the transports in response to his summons. He ordered one of his sergeants to radio the two circling craft and signal them to land. After both ships were down, he quickly explained the situation to the assembled crew.
“Okay, men, the Hercules is under attack. I want each pilot to get in your transport and follow me. We are going up to join the fight. The rest of you will stay here to maintain control of the Pentagon.
“Sergeant, deploy these men across the city in st
rategic locations. Kill any enemy soldiers you may find. No prisoners.” Waving his arm to his pilots, he yelled, “All right, let’s go!” and sprinted for his ship.
Eight transports lifted smoothly from the ground, nosed skyward, and roared off into the radiant blue sky.
CHAPTER 20
Two blazing red trails of fire erupted from the brilliant azure background of Earth. As they cleared the upper reaches of the atmosphere, one vessel veered off and headed for deep space, making a run for the Jerrollite home world. The other plunged forward, bearing toward a final confrontation with the Hercules. The commander could only hope that his counterpart would make it back to the home world in time.
The humans had surprised them with the suddenness and ferocity of their attack and had completely destroyed their communication facilities before anyone could respond. The commanders had agreed to split up even though T’lal had ordered them to stay together. They both felt that a message buoy would not get back to the home world fast enough and a ship must make the journey. One had been selected to stay behind and engage the human ship. He wondered if he would survive the coming fight. Never before had he seen a race react so violently to being invaded. He had been on countless expeditions like this one and never had a problem. As a general rule, most races simply acknowledged the superior force of the Jerrollite armada and capitulated with little or no resistance. This time, however, the situation had been completely different. The entire Jerrollite occupation force had been decimated in a single staggering blow.
The commander glanced around the bridge, keenly aware that for the first time in his life he was heading into a battle that he stood a good chance of losing. His crew remained in a state of high alert, ready for the upcoming fight. The commander was startled by an alarm.
“Sir! I have a pursuit from the surface! Range is seven hundred clicks and closing fast!” said the engineer.
Glancing down at his screens, the commander confirmed that this was one of the human ships that had attacked them on the surface. He pounded his fist on the console next to the screen. He wanted to attack the Hercules with no other distractions, but that was going to be impossible now. He was hemmed in, trapped between the Hercules and the pursuing ships from below. A dark resolve came across the commander’s face as he made a final decision. There was no way his ship could withstand a combined attack from the Hercules and the ship from the surface, so he would channel all available power into the weapons systems in an all-out attempt to inflict a mortal wound on the Hercules. It was their only chance. He spun to face his engineering officer.
“Channel all available energy into the forward weapons battery.”
The look on the engineer’s face betrayed exactly how he felt about that course of action. “Commander, if we do that, we will be vulnerable to attack! One strike and our ship will be destroyed!”
“Don’t you think I know that?” said the commander, menace dripping from each word. The engineer swallowed convulsively and turned to obey. The commander watched as power was rerouted from every nonessential system on the ship into the weapons. Finally the engineer turned to face the commander.
“All systems power has been rerouted. We no longer have any shield capacity.”
“Understood. We’re not going to need them.” The commander turned his back on his openmouthed engineer and walked to the middle of the command center. “Give me maximum speed. Collision course with the Hercules.” The commander noted the startled looks on the faces of his crew. “We have no choice but to ram the Earth ship. There is no way we can win against their entire fleet, but we can make sure that the battleship is destroyed.” To their credit, his crew took the news of their certain death with dignity. They returned to the task at hand, changing the course of their ship to match that of the Hercules exactly. The helmsman brought the ship up to its maximum velocity, speeding forward on a course that would bring them head-to-head with the Hercules within minutes.
“Charge forward cannons. Track the Hercules and lock its coordinates into the system. Open fire as soon as we are in range,” said the commander. He watched grimly as his crew carried out his orders without further question. Although he would never show it, he was proud of them as they prepared to face their last battle. His only solace lay in the fact that his crew would not be the only ones to die today. A sneer curled his lip as he watched the Hercules approaching rapidly, a lone warrior in the wilderness.
Johann’s ship ripped free of Earth’s atmosphere and began to pursue the Jerrollite spaceship in earnest. Through his cockpit window, he could see several other transports that had taken up formation on his ship. The pilots were intently studying their tracking systems to find the fleeing Jerrollite craft. Johann checked his own display and was surprised to discover that the two ships they were pursuing had split up and headed in opposite directions. The other pilots made the same discovery simultaneously, and the radio erupted in chatter.
“Sir! I have one of the Jerrollite ships dead ahead and one retreating to the rear!”
“Oooch, I see him,” said Johann. They could not spare any ships for pursuit. Protecting the Hercules was their first priority, and their chances of success were much greater if they had everything at their disposal.
“Lock his course eento tha computer, boy. Don’t lose him, now. We’ll chase him later, but right now we gotta protect the home front!” The other pilots radioed their agreement, and they all rocketed toward the Hercules.
General Matheson was gazing intently at the forward view screen when a warning siren sounded. Spinning around to his ops officer, he barked out his orders. “Red alert! Prepare to engage the alien vessel.”
Immediately the ship’s computer shifted the lighting to combat red and began an urgent announcement throughout the ship: “RED ALERT! ALL HANDS TO BATTLE STATIONS! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!”
Matheson nodded in approval as his order was carried out with maximum efficiency. The ops officer spoke quietly into his headset microphone, acknowledging a message coming over the ship’s intercom. He turned to report to Matheson. “Sir, all stations are standing by.”
Nodding in approval, the general stood. “Wings One and Two, you are cleared to launch. Deploy in front of the ship and form a wall between the Hercules and the approaching enemy craft.”
Mark, who had been anxiously waiting in his fighter for this moment, replied first. “Yes, sir! Wings One and Two, launch on my mark. Three…Two…One…MARK!” The launch bay erupted in flame as twenty-four fighters launched simultaneously. Emerging from the launch tubes, each wing took up a defensive position in front of the ship.
“All fighters, this is Wing Commander. Bring your weapons systems online and prepare to fire,” said Mark.
The weapons pod on the front of each fighter began to glow in response to the energy being channeled through it. As both wings fell into place, Mark was satisfied that they would be able to stop the approaching ship. He located the Jerrollite craft and relayed the information to the other pilots.
“Target at two hundred twenty mark four.”
“Roger, targets locked. Ready to fire.”
Mark gripped the arm on his seat tightly in anticipation of the coming battle, nerves manifesting as a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his head. As he watched, the Jerrollite ship loomed larger and larger in his display until he could see it unaided through his cockpit window.
“All hands, stand ready!” he said. The enemy ship was approaching faster, never reducing speed to engage the fighters. Almost too late Mark realized the Jerrollite commander’s strategy. “Peel off! Peel off! Break formation!” he said into his microphone. The Jerrollite ship was on a collision course with the Hercules, and they were directly in its way. Both wings immediately broke formation and began buzzing around like angry hornets.
“Fire at will!” he shouted into his headset. The space around him exploded with the sizzling and crackling of particle beam weapons and laser fire. The Jerrollite ship seemed to momentarily wither und
er the barrage but with an iron resolve continued bearing down on them. As the TAC-WING weapons impacted the hull of the enemy ship, several large internal explosions were seen; large plumes of flame leapt from the gaping holes left by the particle weapons. Still the Jerrollite ship continued to bear down on them and the Hercules. Peeling off from the main fighting group, Mark radioed the Hercules.
“Hercules, this is Wing Commander. The Jerrollite ship is making a kamikaze run, sir. They are not defending themselves at all. They intend to ram the ship!”
“Acknowledged, Wing Commander. Are you having any effect at all?” General Matheson asked.
“Yes, sir, we are inflicting heavy damage but are unable to stop the mass of the ship. There will still be enough of it left that if it hits, the Hercules will be destroyed.”
“Very well. Continue pursuit to within five hundred kilometers of us and then back off. I repeat, do not approach closer than five hundred kilometers.”
“Yes, sir!” Mark said. He relayed Matheson’s orders to the rest of the wing and then rejoined the battle. While the TAC-WINGs continued to batter the Jerrollite ship, a swarm of single-man fighters erupted from its belly. This action took the men by surprise, and Mark witnessed seven of his fighters disappear in puffs of flame, replaced by floating debris.
“My God! Watch it, everybody! Several enemy fighters are spaceborne. Watch your backs! Wing One, continue your attack on the main ship; Wing Two, engage the fighters!”
The Jerrollite ship roared past them, leaving only a swarm of fighters battling it out one-on-one. Mark saw several explosions but couldn’t tell if Earth ships or Jerrollites were being destroyed. A proximity warning klaxon sounded in his cockpit. Mark slammed his stick forward, nosing his ship into a dive. Looking behind him he could just make out an enemy fighter on his tail. Weapons fire erupted from the nose of the Jerrollite craft, inching its way toward Mark’s fighter. Mark jerked his control stick back as hard as he could, kicking in his auxiliary thrusters at the same time. The TAC-WING shot straight up, pulling a tight reverse arc. His ship groaned under the stress the maneuver caused but held together long enough for him to end up directly behind the Jerrollite fighter. Activating the targeting computer, he was rewarded with the steady tone of a target lock.
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