Bright Horizons (13 page)

“Enemy
cruisers charging weapons.” Kyle heard as he watched the display pull up a
schematic of the two cruisers. Four points on the front of the ships started
pulsing, indicating that massive power buildups were taking place.

“Incoming
fire.”

“Pull
up visual on two,” McKendree barked.

The
secondary screen showed eight tight blue beams of energy skate across several
of the scooters and the edge of the Grant’s front hull.

“Any
damage?” McKendree asked.

“Engineering
is reporting no damage.”

Kyle
heard McKendree release his breath at the same time he did.

The
enemy cruisers were now within 20,000 kilometers and the small Iltia’cor scout
vessels were within 2,000 kilometers. The enemy scouts started forming up into
small groups and positioning for flanking attacks.

“Gold
Group, lock into spray position,” McKendree said. “Alpha Wing, engage enemy
scouts. Keep them off Gold and away from the cruisers.”

“Spray
position locked, fire control linked, ready sir,” Commander Gutfield announced
as his Gold Group slipped into position.

“Fire,”
McKendree ordered. “Give them everything.”

The
main screen showed some high energy bursts from the fifteen Scooters of Gold
Group. Kyle flipped over to the visual screen on his console and waited. At
18,000 kilometers, it would take a good twenty seconds for the massive
projectiles to make contact.

The
seconds stretched out and then he suddenly saw three small explosions.

“One
of their groups flew in front of that shot!” someone on the bridge said.

The
sheer mass of the projectile was enough that even after it had impacted three
of their scout vessels, it barely changed its trajectory.

“Enemy
vessels changing vectors, sir.”

Kyle
couldn’t blink as he watched it unfold. Their ships had no chance to turn in
time. He saw a flurry of energy weapons firing from the enemy cruisers, and
then the rocks hit. He watched in a mix of horror and hope as the Iltia’cor
cruisers were ripped to shreds as the giant projectiles found their mark.

Suddenly
the visual screens went black.

“What
happened to visual?” Kyle demanded

“Automatic
override, the cruisers went nova,” a lieutenant near Kyle explained. “When the
camera sensors pick up on a light image that will damage the system, it drops
dark.”

Kyle
looked at the main display. A halo of debris was slowly expanding outward as
the remaining Iltia’cor scout vessels flew off in random directions.

Kyle
heard the Commander of Alpha Wing call in. “We’re blind out here, sir. Major
radiation pulse knocked out all sensors.”

“We
lost visuals, Henson, but our other systems are good,” McKendree replied. “We
will try to coordinate navigation from here.

“Wait,
we are getting data back. Wow, nothing left, huh?”

“Looks
that way,” McKendree smiled in relief.

“Should
we pursue fleeing vessels, sir?”

McKendree
looked at Kyle.

“I
think we want word of this to get out, don’t you agree?” Kyle asked McKendree.

McKendree
nodded then gave his fleet their orders. “Negative. Head to the planet and see
what you can find. Gold Group, great job, made this day a lot easier for the
rest of us. Return to the drop point and signal the sleds. Grab some R and R,
you deserve it.”

“Berlin,
Sun Tzu, we are setting course for Kortit. Engage ion engines on my Helms mark.
It should take about 10 hours,” McKendree said into his console.

He
looked at Kyle and smiled. Kyle smiled back. They had liberated the Hedali and
dealt a stinging defeat to the Iltia’cor.

Chapter 14

30 April
2044

The window
was facing Earth as Kyle stared out of it. Franklin Smith had been insistent
that he speak with Kyle face to face today and if that meant they met on the
Space Station Justice, then that is what he wanted to do.

Kyle
was always wary when Smith called one of these impromptu meetings. He didn’t
like surprises, especially when he was dealing with a supposedly neutral
operative in a war. Today’s surprise was very welcome, though, Kyle had to
admit.

“Could
you repeat that, Mister Smith?” Kyle asked as he turned his chair away from the
window and looked at Smith.

“An
anonymous benefactor has purchased sixty warp engines for Earth to use as they
wish,” Smith said as he smiled at Kyle. He was greatly enjoying the surprise
and disbelief that played out across the face of the normally unshakable Marine
General.

“No
requirements or favors that we owe someone?” Kyle said still trying to process
the information.

“None
that I am aware of, General. It seems that there are others who appreciate what
you are doing to the Iltia’cor.”

Kyle
wondered about that. Who could it be? One of the recent liberated planets?

The
Pelod homeworld, Terti, was one of the first planets liberated from the
Iltia’cor. Its manufacturing facilities had immediately started producing
defensive structures to prevent their newly found freedom from being taken again.
As happy as they were, they didn’t seem the type to give away such an abundance
of resources, especially when they could put them to good use themselves.

Fi’cala
was a world of vast mineral resources, and while the Calarians were small in
number, and widely dispersed through the galaxy, they were most happy to share
some new ore processing methods with their liberators. However considerable
their wealth was, it was not in the type of cash or trade that would buy
engines this quickly, so they were unlikely to be the anonymous admirer.

The
liberation of Cyrum was met with almost hostile disbelief. Earth negotiators
are still actively working to help the people of Cyrum form their own statement
of independence. No, they were not in the right frame of mind or level of
wealth to provide sixty engines to Earth.

Kortit
was the most joyous of the liberated planets. Their oppression was less than a
year old, and they were quite happy to throw off the shackles that still
chaffed and reminded them of their life before their captivity. But even they
would not have gone so far as to have provided Earth with tools to fight the
Iltia’cor. For one thing, they blamed Earth for their conquest, along with one
of their own.

Kyle
smiled a bit as he thought of Lon. Publically tortured almost daily since the
Iltia’cor conquered his planet, Lon was still steadfast in his belief he had
done the right thing. Kyle had persuaded him to come back to Earth for medical
treatment and some rest. He was in a medical facility in Phoenix at the moment,
and the latest report said he would fully recover from all of his injuries.

“General
Martin?” Smith repeated.

Kyle
refocused on the moment and looked at Smith. “I’m sorry, my mind drifted
there.”

“I
could tell. I had asked you where you would like the engines delivered.”

“Let’s
put them at the Ellison Yards,” Kyle said looking at his tablet.

“Around
Jupiter?” Smith confirmed.

“Yes.
When will we get them?”

“The
first order should be arriving in about ten days, General.”

Kyle
stood and reached his hand across the desk. “Thank you Mister Smith”

Smith
stood and shook Kyle’s hand with a smile “You are welcome, General Martin. 
Would you care to join me for lunch today? I found that your cafeteria on this
station makes a respectable enchilada.”

“Thank
you, Mister Smith, but I can’t today. I have another meeting to get to. But
maybe the next time you are on the station.”

“That
sounds good, General. Good day to you,” said Smith as he turned and left Kyle’s
office.

Kyle
allowed himself a big grin and a few moments of celebration before he carefully
put on his calm exterior and headed to his next meeting. Sixty new engines was
a great boost to the power and flexibility of the Earth forces. He had received
early reports of Bisir and Airido being liberated just a half hour before. Six
planets liberated and one in process. Within an hour they should hear what
happened at Do’yar’on.

Kyle
felt a little skip in his step. The first four planets had been liberated
without the loss of a single human. The Iltia’cor were taken completely by
surprise by the coordinated assaults and the strategy of using the modified
scooters as giant railguns was so effective that three of the twelve Earth
cruisers involved never fired their weapons during the operation.

The
second wave of attacks had thus far been almost as successful. According to the
preliminary reports from Bisir and Airido, the Iltia’cor had brought in much
larger fleets to protect those systems. And yet, even with a fight on their
hands, his commanders reported only having lost two scooters; one to a rogue
asteroid and the other to enemy fire.

With
the confirmed cruisers in the first wave, and the early reports from the second
wave, Kyle had calculated that the Iltia’cor had lost a total of twenty three
cruisers from their fleet. The Iltia’cor seemed to be back on their heels and
reeling from the Earth strategy, and todays losses would only add to that
downward spiral. 

Yes,
this was turning out to be one of the best days since they met the Hedali.

The
door to the conference room opened and Kyle stepped in. Immediately he sensed
the dark mood in the room and the foreboding sense that something terrible had
happened. The other nine members of the meeting met him with silent looks and a
few had red-rimmed eyes.

“Sir,”
Alex stood as Kyle came in. “We just received news from the Pentagon. Admiral
Rider was found dead at his desk this morning.”

Kyle
reached for a chair for support and slowly lowered himself until he was
sitting.

“What
happened?” Kyle asked.

“The
EMTs told Kitch it was a stroke. She is pretty shaken up, sir,” Alex said.

That
would be an understatement, thought Kyle. Admiral John Rider had picked her to
be his attaché when he was promoted to Chairman of the Joint Chiefs in the
Indian War. When her air wing commander complained and said she was the best
warthog pilot he had, Admiral Rider had loudly and forcefully replied that she
was the best logistics and resource officer the military had and he needed her
for his office. He took her under his wing and was like a second father to her.
He knew that she had stayed in close contact with him even after his
retirement.

After
Admiral Rider retired, she asked to be assigned to Special Operations under
Kyle as a service pilot and logistics officer. Kyle felt honored that she
wanted to work for his command, especially after Hyderabad had tarnished his
name. But she had seen all of the evidence and had understood, like Admiral
Rider had, that the right call was made. Kyle couldn’t think of Admiral Rider without
thinking of Kitch, nor could he think of Kitch without thinking of Admiral
Rider. He would call her later and offer his condolences and offer to help in
any way he could.

“Are
you ok, sir? Do we need to postpone the meeting?” Williams asked quietly while
placing a cup of coffee in front of Kyle.

“No.
Thanks Carl, I’ll be fine.” Kyle picked up the cup of coffee, just to do
something more than sit there and stare.

“Sir,
I don’t think everybody in this room knows that Admiral Rider pinned your wings
on. Isn’t that true?” Alex asked.

Kyle
cleared his throat and gave a tight smile to Alex.

“Yes,
he was a Naval Captain and I was a lowly Marine Lieutenant when I finished
flight school. He pinned my wings on. He also gave me my first Command,
promoted me to Special Operations Command for the Marine Corps and then later
Special Operations Command for the Indian Theater.”

Kyle
swallowed a drink of coffee and pushed aside the sadness that was overtaking
him. “He sent a plane to bring me back to the States when my wife died. He took
my daughter into his home for two weeks after the funeral when I had to get
back to the war and the arrangements for my parents to take care of her were
delayed. The old man and I had a long history, and I will miss him greatly.”

Kyle
took another sip of coffee and stood up. “Let’s focus on the task at hand,
people. I will try to make it a short day if no one has any objections.”

Everyone
nodded as Kyle walked to the head of the table. “I have just come from a
meeting where Mister Smith has informed me that an unknown benefactor has
donated sixty new warp engines to our supplies.”

The
normally professional team erupted in a cacophony of questions and shocked
sentiments. Kyle raised his hand and everyone started quieting down.

“The
answer is: I don’t know,” Kyle said slowly. “There is no one that I can think
of that would have the resources and the motive to give us this kind of gift. I
suggest we take it and put it to good use.”

“Could
the engines be booby-trapped or set to self-destruct or something like that?”
asked Williams.

“Good
questions, and why you need to get out to Ellison and inspect them next week,”
Kyle responded. “It will take a little time to figure out what to do with the
extra engines, but I know we will find good use for them.”

Kyle
flipped on the main data screen. “We have received reports from the Grant and
the Walesa that Bisir and Airido are being liberated. The Iltia’cor had placed
eight cruisers in each system, so I can assure you that they are going to
heavily reinforce the rest of their systems. We were able to hit four systems
quickly, and now another three. This leaves them with four held planets and
their home. We are still trying to get some good intelligence on how their
defenses are set up in the Iltia system.”

Just
then the door opened and Captain Anderson stuck his head in the room. “Sir, we
are getting a transmission from Do’yar’on. Should be uploaded in just a few
seconds,” he said.

“Thanks
Anderson,” Williams responded as the young communications technician left and
closed the door. “Let’s see what Jennings has to say.”

Kyle
nodded and flipped on the main console. A few seconds later, Captain Burke’s
image appeared on the screen.

Something
was wrong, and Kyle felt the ripple of anxiety from the men and women sitting
behind him. Jennings was the Fleet Captain and should have been making this
report.

“Sir,
reporting in from the Do’yar’on system. We regret to report that both the
Belisarius and the DeGaul were destroyed in action. We also believe that we
lost five scooters and two sleds in the engagement, sir.” Captain Burke’s face
was tense as he spilled out the details of Earth’s losses. “Due to the
circumstances, we believe all hands were lost. Colonel Jackson, the pilot of
the Hemingway, has eyewitness details.”

The
briefing room was dead silent as the screen flickered and Colonel “Cowboy”
Jackson appeared on the screen.

“We
had just entered the Do’yar’on system and initiated the undocking of the DeGaul
when we picked up a signal of a ship about 100,000 kilometers out. No one
recognized the other vessel, but it was already powering up… something. The
readings were off the charts. Captain Jennings told us to detach and go get
reinforcements as soon as possible. All three sleds hit their warp engines
within a second or two of each other. My ride was the furthest out from the
enemy vessel, and I believe that we survived only by a few kilometers.”

Cowboy
took a drink of water before he continued. “Just as we went into warp, the
gravitational fields around the Hemingway went crazy. Our warp field collapsed
once, but Sheely got it back up and stable.”

Kyle
stole a quick look around the room and saw the same looks of bewilderment as he
was feeling.

“We
estimate that the field was produced about 20,000 kilometers from the port side
of the Belisarius and exerted a gravitational force of six times ten to the
eighth meters per second squared.”

Williams
whistled low at that.

“The
energy lasted about five seconds from our readings. When we reached the
rendezvous point, we discovered we had lost four engines and the superstructure
of the Hemingway had been twisted. All of our systems were damaged, but
operational.”

The
screen flickered again and Captain Burke replaced Cowboy.

“We
analyzed the data from the Hemingway and from what we can put together out
here, the Iltia’cor have a gravitational weapon. They used it before we could
react and it completely destroyed our ships. It was only chance that allowed
the Hemingway to make it safely away. We are abandoning this operation and are
returning to Earth for debrief as soon as possible. All technical data will be
attached to this transmission. Burke out.”