Far Space (43 page)

Williams nodded and turned to Crowder. “Doctor, does Mrs. Langdon have any problems which are life critical?”

Jennifer could not help but smile. Did the entire base falling down around her count as life threatening?

“No, but…” Dr. Crowder started. “Master Sergeant Williams, this is not one of your SOF troops. She requires a thorough exam and perhaps more surgery. I insist she remain here under my care.”

Jennifer caught sight of the nurse, now armed with her injector, inching across the shaking floor.

Williams saw her, too. He eyed the nurse with a sideways look until she stopped and took a step back.

“Doctor,” Williams asked again, “anything critical?”

Chowder sighed and shook his head. “Bring her to me as soon as all this,” he gestured above his head, “is over. I’ll head to the infirmary and see what I can do there.”

Williams nodded and bent down. He gently lifted Jennifer up and carried her to a wheelchair Chowder and the nurse had brought with them while outfitting Yates’ quarters as a exam room.

“Let’s go to the Ops Center,” Jennifer said.

“That’s where we’re heading ma’am,” Williams said. He pushed Jennifer up a few ramps and down a back corridor. They reached the secondary entrance to the SOF Cell in less than two minutes.

Yates looked up from where he was leaning over a console. “Good of you to join us, Jennifer.”

It took only a moment for Jennifer to see Ian was not in the Cell. “What’s going on?”

Yates took a moment to give one of the techs some last second instructions then made his way to Jennifer’s side. “Soosuri invasion.”

“But why now?” Jennifer asked. She pulled herself up to stand next to Yates. In a lower voice, she asked, “Did we bring them here?”

“Ian asked the same thing,” Yates said. “I’ll tell you what I told him; the answer, I think, is no.” He gestured up at the main displays, “We’ve got three major concentrations of Soosuri spacecraft. They used wormholes here in the Jovian Cluster and a few closer to Earth. They didn’t just throw this together – it’s got to be a coincidence they arrived right after you and Ian did.”

“Tell that to the guys who tried to kill Williams,” Jennifer said.

Yates looked over at the Master Sergeant, “Something I need to know about?”

“Nothing serious,” Williams said. “But we might want to send a team down there to clean up a bit.”

“We’re ready with another round, sir,” one of the techs said.

Yates turned his attention to the displays. “Blow ‘em.”

Jennifer looked up in time to see more than a dozen red icons begin to flash. After a few moments, they all disappeared. “What was that?”

“Mines,” Yates replied, “my people were able to plant them on some of the Soosuri ships as they arrived.”

“Thirteen enemy ships destroyed,” the same tech reported, “including three in Jupiter Space.”

“Good,” Yates said. Under his breath he added. “I’m afraid it won’t be enough.”

“We still have seven ships engaging the base defenses and two others tracking on other targets in Jupiter Space,” another controller called out as the ground rumbled again.

“Cripes,” Jennifer said as she caught himself on the edge of a console, “You sure it’s just the seven?”

Reaper 16

Jupiter Space

“Any particular heading?” Ghost asked.

“Get us to the closest ship,” Ian said. “We’ll take this one shot at a time.”

“Got it,” Ghost replied. “Lucky for us, there’s a handy group of enemy ships right above us. We can take our pick.”

The Reaper rocked.

“And that would be the enemy ships noticing us,” Ghost said calmly. He took control of the ship from Ian and jerked the nimble craft onto a new trajectory. “Sorry, sir. Old habit.”

“No problem,” Ian grunted from the new g-forces. “You take the stick and I’ll shoot.”

“Excellent tactical thinking, sir.” Ghost said. He whipped the Reaper into a new round of twists and turns.

“I need to stay still long enough to fire!” Ian called out.

“Just fire!” Ghost shouted, “I’ll sweep the nose across a few of their bows.”

“Great plan,” Ian grunted. He jabbed the fire switch and held it down. A string of tracer rounds blazed from the Reaper’s rail gun. The slugs stitched a line along the hull of an enemy ship as Ghost maneuvered around in a tight arc.

“That got ‘em!” Ghost whooped as the targeted vessel disappeared into a spectacular fireball. “Use the missiles and keep your finger on the rail trigger, we’re coming back around!”

“Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em,” Ian said as fingers flew across the control board. The Reaper loosed all six of its hyper-velocity missiles.

“Reagan’s D just got a kill!” Ghost called out.

“Good for them,” Ian grunted. “I just lost four of our missiles.”

“Just hang on and fire the rail!” Ghost shouted.

Ian started firing again and checked the counter. At this rate of fire, they would be out of ammo in about twenty seconds. “Better make it quick, Pilot.”

Ghost slewed the Reaper back in line with one of the Soosuri vessels. A stream of slugs tore into the other ship.

To Ian’s disappointment, there was no explosion. But, the enemy spacecraft did take on a satisfying list to port.

“Well, he’s probably out of the game. We can at least chalk up…oh crud,” Ghost muttered a split second before the Reaper was convulsed and thrown into a violent and uncontrolled spin.

“This is fun,” Ian grunted as he was pressed against the side of his seat.

“Took a hit up the aft end,” Ghost shouted above the multiple alarms. “Stay with me…”

“Trying,” Ian said as blackness crept into his vision. He felt his consciousness slipping away with each dizzying gyration their spacecraft took. “Anytime, Ghost…”

“Lost some thrusters,” Ghost grunted, obviously fighting the same possibility of blacking out.

Ian flexed his legs, buttocks, and abdomen so hard his muscles began to burn from the exertion. He had to stay awake. If he and Ghost both blacked out, neither of them would ever wake up again.

“Got it!” Ghost shouted.

It took a moment for Ian to realize what the other man had said. Only when the blackness began to clear from his vision, did he realize they might survive for a few more moments.

“Thank God,” Ian breathed.

“Yeah,” Ghost said tapping on his control board. “Bad news and good news, though.”

“Give it to me all at once,” Ian said trying to find out where their crazy trajectory had flung them.

“Well, we’re still alive and our engines are still burning at 100% so we are clear of the fight,” Ghost said.

“Good…and bad,” Ian said. “Turn us around.”

“Our weapons are off-line and we have a little problem with the power core.”

“Bad…” Ian said. “Wait, just how bad is ‘bad’ when we’re talking about the core?”

“We’ll be space vapor in a few minutes,” Ghost said.

“Okay,” Ian said, “so, very bad.”

USS Saratoga

Jupiter Space

“Reagan is under increasing fire,” Growler reported, “Five ships are attacking the base and there are one, no two, ranging after satellites and some civilian ships.”

“Fire full barrage,” Mitchell said, “try and take some heat off the base.” He watched the rail guns mounted amid-ship as they began cycling back and forth, pumping out slug after slug at lethal speeds.

“Sir, at our current velocity, we’ll only get one pass at the enemy ships,” Osprey noted.

Mitchell considered the tactical display for a moment before pulling out a light pen. He outlined his plan with a few bold strokes on his display board which were automatically transferred onto the main view screen. “Steer right into the center mass of their formation. We’ll initiate a pitch and full breaking maneuver as we pass.”

Osprey saw what the Colonel had in mind and a wide grin split his face. “Yes, sir.”

Reagan Space Corps Base / SOF Ops Cell

Europa

“Earth defenses are holding their own,” Yates said.

“Where’s Ian?” Jennifer asked.

Yates took a moment to scan the local display then used a laser pointed to show Jennifer the icon for Reaper 16. “They boosted away from the other ships after making a kill.”

“Are they damaged?” Jennifer asked.

Yates turned to Williams. “Raise Reaper 16, see what their status is.”

Williams nodded and sat at an empty console.

“Saratoga’s pulling the heat off Reagan,” Yates noted.

Jennifer cocked her head and noticed for the first time the base was being hit much less frequently.

“They aren’t responding,” Williams said. “I’ve diverted another Reaper to intercept.”

“Good,” Yates said. “Be sure the Ops Floor sees those two other ships trying to close on targets on Jupiter’s far side. The Brits should be able to handle them.”

“Are we winning?” Jennifer asked as yet another blue icon flashed and died.

“It’s going to be close,” Yates answered quietly.

USS Saratoga

Jupiter Space

Rail guns and lasers firing continuously, Saratoga bore down on the enemy vessels harassing Reagan Space Corps Base.

“One enemy vessel destroyed…four targets remaining!” Growler reported. “They’ve stopped firing on the base.”

“Good,” Mitchell said.

“All fire is now concentrated on us,” Growler clarified.

“Great,” Mitchell grunted as the OCSU rolled his spacecraft hard to starboard

“We’re on track for the four targets,” Growler said as the ship began to shake violently.

“Go manual and prep for hard pitch,” Mitchell said.

“Yes, sir,” Osprey said. He tapped a few keys and looked to a wide-eyed 1Lt Hodges in the pilot seat. When Hodges gave a quick nod back to Osprey, the DO called out, “Ready!”

Mitchell waited for two heartbeats, all the while watching the enemy ships grow larger, before shouting, “Now!”

Osprey initiated the sequence. “Hang on!”

The Saratoga fired her massive attitude control thrusters fore and aft. Rounds slammed into the ship’s underside as she pitched over hard. Half way through the turn, the opposite thrusters fired, stopping the wild end-over-end maneuver.

Mitchell grinned as he watched the feeds from Saratoga’s rear cameras. They showed the enemy ships grow bright in the light of his ship’s flaring exhaust.

Moving too fast to stop and not reacting fast enough to respond, all four ships went nova. The intense furnace of the Saratoga’s engines melted the alloy of the ships outer hulls then flashed the water inside the habitable sections. The engine cores exploded as their containment fields simply ceased to exist.

“Tactical?” Mitchell asked, still staring at the main display as four explosions blended into one then faded.

“Uh,” Growler began, taking a moment to recover. He tapped his control board, and said, “Sir, targets have been destroyed.”

“Thank God,” Mitchell breathed, lowering his head.

“Special Forces managed to destroy a good number of the attacking ships as they came out of the wormholes,” Growler said. “Most of the rest have been destroyed in ship-to-ship fighting. There are only three left in Earth Space and they appear to be damaged. We have the other two in Jupiter Space. The Sterling is engaging right now.”

“What’s the score over all?” Osprey asked.

Growler took a moment to double check the numbers on his display and muttered, “This can’t be right.”

“What can’t be right?” Mitchell said.

“Sorry, sir,” Tac said. “It’s the IFF count.” The IFF, Identify Friend or Foe system, showed the current status of all friendly spacecraft in Near Space.

Mitchell’s stomach dropped. “What’s the count?”

Growler turned to face the Colonel. “Sir, we lost more than two thirds of our ships.”

“Most of Earth’s defenses are gone,” Osprey added, checking the numbers. He looked up and said, “Including Hornet.”

“Check it again,” Mitchell said, straining against his harness.

“Sir, I just…”

“Check it again,” Mitchell said. As his tactical officer went back to his board, Mitchell turned to the rest of the bridge crew. “I want damage reports and status of all systems…now. Nav, get us a heading to assist Sterling’s group.”

“Lieutenant Colonel Osprey,” Mitchell said.

“Sir,” his second in command replied.

“Take over damage control and make ready the ship for action.”

“Yes sir.” Osprey gave a smart salute then released his harness so he could drift between the twelve bridge stations. “All right, give it to me.”

Reports from throughout the ship started pouring in.

Mitchell turned to the communications station. “Prep a TACREP; Enemy ships in Jupiter Space destroyed or are engaged. All U.S. spacecraft prepare for possible second wave attack.”

The Comm Officer looked up after typing the last line of the Tactical Report. “Second wave, sir?”

“Send it out and get me a link with the Century commanders.”

Osprey had made the initial triage of the battle damaged, issued the orders to prioritize repairs and made sure the weapons were still on line. He made his way to stand beside Mitchell and together they watched the bridge crew working through the after-action details.

In a low voice, Osprey asked, “You know something we don’t know, sir?”

“Just don’t want to be caught with my pants down, Mr. Osprey,” Mitchell answered in the same quiet tone. “We can’t afford another victory like this.”

“I’d agree with that,” Osprey breathed, taking in the gaping holes in the human defense lines on the tactical display.

“Grav anomalies!” Growler shouted.

Mitchell and Osprey looked over at the tactical station.

Growler turned to face the command station. “We’ve got incoming!”

“That was quick,” Mitchell grunted. “Nav, bring us around. Weapons, fire on whatever you get the first lock on.”

“Rail turrets loaded…” Weapons taped a few keys, “targets in two minutes.”

“Tactical, report,” Mitchell said, watching as the main screen filled up fast with new icons.

“Ten, eleven, now fifteen alien vessels in Jupiter Space! Twenty one enemy ships just appeared in Earth Space…make that forty two!”