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Authors: Jonathan Edward Feinstein

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A Planned Improvisation (19 page)

BOOK: A Planned Improvisation
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“If they aren’t, I plan to give them good reason,” Park replied getting up. “I’d better get down to the port. We never have had permanent crews on any of our ships. That means I’ll need to go over the duty rotation schedule to make sure we don’t have any first-timers scheduled for this flight.”

“Why not permanent crews?” Arn asked as he walked briskly to keep up with Park.

“This way everyone knows every ship,” Park replied, “or at least they know more than one ship. So far our ships have been fairly homogenous, each has its own quirks, but for the most part if you have a position you are trained to, you will find the same knobs and buttons in the same places from one ship to the next.

“The one exception to that,” Park went on as they reached the stairway down into the old base, “are the master weapons consoles. Ronnie keeps improving what we have and Iris is still trying to design the ideal battle board, but I let her work out the rotation for weapons officers so they learn every console.”

“If anything ought to be standard, that’s it,” Arn pointed out.

“The system seems to work well enough and the gunners practice every day on a different ship simulator,” Park replied. “When they find something that ought to always be in the same place they discuss it and find an engineer to make the change. It just seems to me that the master console never looks the same way twice.”

They both went inside the base, although Arn had expected Park to continue on the stairway to the base of the hill. “Where are you going?”

“The elevator,” Park responded. “I parked in Ronnie’s toy shop this morning. “I’m going to need her entire crew at the port anyway, so I can tell them on my way.”

Down in the new experimental shipyard, everyone was running back and forth in a sort of controlled chaos. “What are you still doing here?” Ronnie shouted at Park. “You ought to be at the port.”

“On my way,” Park told her. “You need a lift?”

“Thanks,” Ronnie nodded. “Most of my boys and girls are still living inside the old base. Not sure when I’ll move out, if I ever do. Actually,” she continued as she got into
 
Park’s Mer-built vehicle, “I kind of like living over the shop and so do a lot of my people, although it’s nice to get out into the sun sometimes too.”

“Rotate personnel between here and the port,” Park suggested, “A week here and a week there maybe?”

“Maybe,” Ronnie nodded as the car cleared the mouth of the tunnel. “Yeesh! The sun is bright this morning!”

“How long have you been stuck in the Batcave, Robin?” Park laughed.

Maybe a little too long,” Ronnie chuckled. “I’ve been busy on that carrier prototype, a little too busy, in fact. I still have work to do on the star drive on
Independent
, you know.”

“What sort of work?” Park asked.

“That drive is a prototype” she told him. “The circuitry is all bread-boarded. I had planned to standardize the components after the first successful flight and have the yard at Questo make the permanent boards, but they just got the electronics lab back up to snuff last week.”

“It will have to wait now,” Park remarked. “After we go up, though, you may want to send what you have to Questo’s electronics lab.”

“I’ll have to oversee the first batch or two,” Ronnie shook her head. “Better make sure we still have a Questo when this is over.”

“That’s my job,” Park pointed out as they arrived at the port.

Six

 

 

Five ships flew through space in a V formation at high acceleration. “Coming up on Jupiter, sir,” Katatack reported from the navigator’s seat. Katatack had been one of Marisea’s first Atackack students. Now, just a few years later, this one-time hunter-gatherer was a starship navigator. It reminded Park just how quickly the giant insects could learn if they started early enough in life.

Young adult Atackack learned at a ferocious rate, but only for the first couple of years. After that, they were set in their specialties and their ability to learn new ways of doing things slowed down.

Sitting next to Katatack was the Atackack pilot, Tragackack. Trials in the simulators showed that both Atackack did their jobs superbly, they worked even better as a team, talking to each other rapidly in their click-clacking native language. It was only later that Park had learned that Katatach was a member of a Totkeba tribe and Tragackack was a Geck. They should have been mortal enemies and might have been had they met on each other’s territory, but the Atackack students who were chosen to come to Van Winkle were not only out of their own territories, but had been inducted into the Atackack shamanate. A shaman was taught to talk first and fight only if there was no alternative and being outside their homeland, no Atackack would feel the need to defend their territory.

“Marisea, coordinate the gravity sling maneuver within the fleet,” Park instructed her. “and put Cousin down. You need both hands free.”

“Aye aye, Park,” Marisea nodded, putting the small primate back on the deck. Cousin looked around sleepily, spotted Park and climbed up to his lap. A moment later she was happily asleep once more.

The gravity sling around Jupiter brought the ships up behind the invading dark ships and at only a slightly faster speed. Matching courses would be child’s play from here and there was even a slim chance the invaders had not yet spotted the Earth ships coming up on their tails. “They’ve made no attempt to evade us yet,” General Gractic noted. The Atackack warrior had requested a berth on one of the ships so he could observe the battle first-hand. Park pointed out that while Gractic was an expert on Atackack warfare, he had not had adequate training at any station on a starship. The general admitted that easily and would have withdrawn his request, but Park allowed him on
Independent
as an observer. So far Gractic had said very little and only asked questions when crew members had time for him.

“They may not think we’re much of a threat,” Park shrugged. “Besides a change of course would mean missing both Earth and Luna. I doubt they would concede the battle that easily.”

“How would they miss Earth?” Gractic asked, obviously confused. “They would either get their sooner than planned or later. They are still headed there, are they not?”

“Space travel doesn’t work that way, General,” Park told him. “On Pangaea the ground stays more or less still. I mean unless you’re in the middle of an earthquake it is not moving at an easily measurable rate. The distance and direction between two villages is going to remain the same unless you pick one of the villages up and physically move them.”

“Of course,” Gractic conceded the point.

“But in space,” Park continued, “everything is moving relative to everything else. Earth spins on its axis and moves around the Sun. So do all the other planets, asteroids, etc. The Sun is slowly moving around the Milky Way. The Milky Way is moving too, relative to other galaxies.”

“I have learned in the University that the Earth spins,” Gractic admitted. “But I cannot feel it spinning. Should I not be thrown off?”

“No, gravity holds us firmly to the surface so we are spinning with the Earth,” Park tried to explain. “Look, for now don’t worry about that. The point is, Earth is a moving target from here. They aren’t headed at Earth exactly, but where it will be by the time they get there.”

“Ah,” the general nodded, “it is like shooting an arrow at a
gitikick
. You must aim in front of your prey.”

Park was not sure what a
gitikick
was, but he knew an apt analogy when he heard it. “Correct.”

“It is a wonder you do not get lost in Space then,” Gractic commented. “Can we even see Earth from here?”

“Sure,” Park replied, “it’s that pale bluish dot on the far left of the screen.”

“Bluish?” Gractic asked.

“Sir,” Katatack cut in. “We Atackack do not see colors as you do. We are color blind to most of your visible spectrum.”

“I didn’t know that,” Park admitted. He got out of his chair and pointed at the view screen. “Well, it’s this one right over here. These bright dots here are the dark ships. All this is magnified a little, but not much.”

“About fifteen percent, Park,” Iris informed him.

“Right,” Park nodded. “If the dark ships maintain their course Earth will gradually move across this screen toward the center. Of course, we’ll be catching up to them in a few hours and once we do, we’ll probably adjust our course for maximum attack potential or else to just chase them down wherever they try to run.”

“You sound sure of yourself,” Gractic remarked with a gesture Park had come to associate with humor.

“I’m determined to teach them, whoever they are, not to…” Park was about to say “fool around with us,” but remembered how literal the Torc translations could be of idioms and instead said, “that Earth is not to be attacked”

“Is it wise to attack a force that has superior numbers?” Gractic asked.

“That’s a fair question,” Park admitted. “I would have preferred more ships, but they took us by surprise last time. This is all I had to work with while still leaving something to protect Earth and the Moon should we fail. I believe we have superior weapons, though.

“So far the dark ships have only used energy weapons of various types,” Park went on. We have missiles that have a slightly better range than anything they have so we’ll get in the first shots. After that, well, we’ll see.”

“We’re coming up on the dark ships hot,” Katatack reported. “Should I match course and velocity?”

“No,” Park decided, “Maintain the velocity. We want to go right past them. When they start firing our stasis shielding will activate and we won’t have any control until we come out of stasis.” He briefly wondered why Katatack needed to be told this, but then realized he was actually asking on behalf of General Gractic. It was an insight into Atackack courtesy Park had not seen before, so he continued. “In conventional space warfare we might well just match course and velocity and slug it out, but with our stasis shielding we find it best to swing in and out of their range, taking our shots where we can.”

“Thanks, Skipper,” Katatack replied and turned back to his controls. Out of the corner of his eye, Park noticed Gractic making an “I understand” gesture.

In Park’s experience battles in Space involve long, boring waiting periods in which you had to approach and attempt to match course with your opponent followed by short and exciting bits of fighting in which a few shots might be all you got.

The Earth ships continued on until just out of missile range from the dark ships. “Iris, you have your first targets all picked out?”

“I have two extra-long range missiles and four stasis specials targeted and primed, Park” Iris replied. “Then I have other surprises for the others. Our gunners have their targets all programmed in and my counterparts on our other ships are doing likewise.” Park knew they would get the extra-long range missiles off. The others all depended on whether they were under stasis or not.

“Good enough. Fire those long rangers now. We’ll have time to abort them if the dark ships surrender. Marisea,” Park commanded as Iris pressed in the launch sequence, “open a channel to the dark ships.” He looked around for Cousin and found her sleeping in a corner of the bridge.

“Aye aye,” Marisea responded. “What frequency?”

“Good question,” Park admitted. “How broadband can you make the broadcast?”

“I can broadcast on all frequencies known to be used on Alliance ships,” she replied.

“That will have to do,” Park told her.

“Go ahead, Park,” Marisea told him.

“Attention invading ships,” Park spoke into the air, knowing his words were being picked up and broadcast. “You are in Sol System illegally. You have one chance to surrender and leave.” He motioned to Marisea that he was done speaking.

They waited a full minute and then heard a rasping voice speak a language unlike any they had ever heard. It seemed to be made up of coughs, squeaks and screams. A moment later the response was repeated in the modern standard language of the Alliance, “Die, Abominations!”

“One minute to impact,” Iris reported into the stunned silence on the bridge. “Firing stasis missiles. Stand by.”

“The dark ships are turning to face us,” Katatack reported.

“Hold our course,” Park ordered. “Iris, fire at will.”

The view screen suddenly lit up with a variety of colored lights and explosions. Explosions in Space are expanding spheres of light, gas and debris that soon become too diffuse to be seen, but the barrage of missiles did not all go off at once and so Iris had to rely on her instruments to report. “One of my long-rangers hit, the other was destroyed by their weapons. Another dark ship was destroyed by
Face of Therens
. All other long-range missiles have failed to reach their targets. No word yet on the Stasis specials.”

Park did not have time to respond, nor did any of the gunnery officers on the Earth ships have time to fire another volley. The first shots from the dark ships hit the Earth ships and Park and his crew suddenly found themselves going rapidly in and out of stasis while the same loud creaking and tearing noise they had heard on their last encounter with a dark ship filled their ears. The noise got worse and they felt
Independent
vibrating and shaking in spite of the stasis effect.

“My God!” Park exclaimed after they had flown beyond the dark ships’ range. “That sounded like they were tearing us apart. “Engineering, report!”

“Nav stations are down,” Katatack reported, indicating both his and his assistant’s areas.

“Minor damage to the hull, Skipper,” the engineer reported. Park couldn’t remember who was on duty this flight. “Some systems are down, but guidance and weapons are in good shape.”

“See if you can figure out what happened to our navigator’s station,” Park told him.

“Should be working,” the chief engineer responded. “I’ll send a team to the bridge.”

“Park,” Marisea reported. “The
Face of Theren
reports she is dead in space,
Phoenix Child
has lost her guidance systems and I get no response from
Starblade
at all.”

BOOK: A Planned Improvisation
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