M'tak Ka'fek (The T'aafhal Inheritance) (31 page)

Farside and Earth lay almost defenseless before their enemies. Both operational frigates were escorting freighters to Mars, millions of kilometers away and headed the wrong direction. The only sizable ship at Farside was the Peggy Sue, which was in the yards and unmanned. Lt. Melaku had half of the corvettes in the asteroid belt on a training flight leaving only two operational flights at base.

The base erupted in pandemonium. Marines in armor were every where while Navy personnel swarmed over the eight operational corvettes, loading munitions and prepping them for flight. The civilian population was evacuated to the lowest levels of the base, as far below the surface as possible for maximum protection from radiation and impacts.

In the command center Col. Tropsha, Capt. Curtis and Lcdr. Vincent conferred in front of a massive 3D display tank showing the entire solar system. The disposition of Earth forces on the display reinforced what the officers already knew—they had been caught with their shorts around their ankles.

“We should recall the Constellation and Constitution,” Ludmilla suggested. “These ships will probably not be stopped by eight corvettes.”

“You are right about the corvettes, but there is no way that the frigates will get here in time to intercept the aliens,” said Gretchen, cursing to herself that she had not kept one ship in a defensive position near the base. “We'll have to scramble the PT boats and hope for the best.”

“There may be more incoming, it might still be a good idea to divert the frigates.”

“We'll notify them and have them start to circle back toward Earth.”

“We've only seen two attacks, and those by different aliens. But each time they brought everything they had through the transit point all at once,” Billy Ray observed.

“That makes tactical sense, Commander,” Gretchen replied thoughtfully. “Sending a force through piecemeal would tip your hand to the enemy. The opposing forces could set up around the transit point and pick ships off as they emerged.”

“That seems logical. Billy Ray, how do you know these are different aliens?”

“The drive signatures are similar, so I figure they are about as capable as the ones that bushwhacked the Peggy Sue, but the physical configuration of these ships is different. The bushwhackers were all spinney, like flying sea urchins. These are squat and compact. I think different critters designed these.”

“So why only three ships? And from Beta Comae again?”

“I doubt that anything survived the action off Sirius to report our exit point from that system, but they know where we transited to Beta Comae from. This has the feel of a recon mission—a quick pass through the system to see what's here.”

“If that is true then they may simply pass us by and depart without firing at the planet or base.”

“Never assume away an enemy's capabilities or intentions, Colonel.” Gretchen smiled grimly, recalling the many lectures she received from Jack regarding the art of war.

“Capt. Curtis, the corvettes are launching, Ma'am,” called a Lieutenant from one of the communication consoles.

“Good, who is in command?”

“Lt. Hect, Ma'am.”

“Tell them to intercept the intruders, Lieutenant.”
Why am I so uneasy about this?
Gretchen fretted.
Amos Hect is an experienced former Israeli Air Force officer,
but this isn't aerial combat and the enemy aren't Egyptians or Syrians. That, plus almost none of the crews have been tested in actual combat.
 

* * * * *

Nearly 600 million kilometers away, situated in one of the Kirkwood gaps in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, Lt. Melaku's squadron of ten corvettes was practicing maneuvers when she received word from HQ that Earth was again under attack. That information was already a half hour out of date when it arrived.

Amos is a good flight leader, but he can be overly aggressive. I hope he takes into account that most of his crews are inexperienced. I hate to think what might happen in a full on furball with three frigates.

Silently cursing their distance from the enemy, Beth ordered her formation to do an evolution that placed the squadron on course back toward the inner solar system. According to the information from Farside, the aliens had entered via the Beta Comae transit point. She would take her corvettes back to base but would travel above the ecliptic, in a position to take an enemy emerging from that alter-space exit if need be.

* * * * *

Sixty minutes after emergence, the mission commander tightened her formation and prepared to pass by the alien planet's large, barren moon. There were indications of power sources beneath the outward facing hemishpere of the large satellite. Whether there were defensive weapon emplacements on the moon remained unknown but she would take no chances—her ships would execute a braided pattern as they passed, so each ship's shields would only be exposed to any enemy fire for a limited period of time.

Sensors had also detected a number of large ships, on a course toward the fourth rocky planet. At least two of them altered course less than twenty minutes after emergence, an indication that the aliens knew of their presence in their system. The ships, roughly the size of her vessels, had not set course to the third planet, but seemed to be maneuvering to intercept her squadron after they passed the planet ahead.

Smart, not rushing blindly back to defend the home world,
she thought.
So be it, they still do not know our exit strategy.
As her ships approached perigee with the planet her instruments detected a flight of eight small ships closing on hers.
Now where did they come from? No matter, they are not large enough to threaten my warships.
 

* * * * *

Lt. Hect had taken his two flights of corvettes around the Moon, using the satellite's bulk to mask their presence. On an intercept vector that would take the invaders at roughly 10 o'clock, his plan was to launch a salvo of AM pumped X-ray torpedoes to soften up and distract their opponents, then make a pass with railguns right through the enemy formation. They would then circle about and come up on the enemy from the rear with more torpedoes to finish them off. It was a reasonable plan of attack.

Unfortunately, Hect did not realize the power of the enemy weapons, or that the creatures manning those weapons were by their nature impossible to distract and inhumanly good at their jobs. The alien commander was not very inventive. She did things by the book, but her kind had been fighting among the stars for thousands of years. The book covered most every situation imaginable, and the commander knew it—all three of her hearts.

* * * * *

The main control room display zoomed in on the incipient space battle, showing the forces involved in detail. The wave of torpedoes sped to their targets, only a few being detonated by fire from the invaders. The majority exploded short of their targets, as they were designed to do, the energy released by their antimatter charges channeled into incredibly intense beams of coherent X-rays.

The shields of the closest two enemy vessels flared but did not fail. Then the corvettes were on them, firing their main railguns. The interlaced paths of the alien ships brought the ship that had been sheltered from the torpedo attack to the side facing the corvettes just as they arrived at point blank range. The intruders lashed out with particle cannon more powerful than anything previously encountered by Earth forces.

Two of the attacking corvettes detonated almost immediately. The remainder all took heavy impacts on their shields. Hect realized they had stuck their favorite appendages into a meat grinder.

“Break! Break!” he ordered the squadron. “Guns defense. Jink for all you are worth.”

The remaining corvettes dove between the alien ships so they could not bring their weapons to bear without hitting each other. Passing through the formation, Hect managed to hit one of the enemy with at least one railgun slug. It was the only significant damage inflicted by the corvette assault. Exiting the alien formation he lost his wingman.

Once clear of the enemy ships, the corvettes all flipped 180º in a sort of zero-gravity variant on Pugachev's Cobra. More torpedoes were fired while the surviving five corvettes maneuvered violently to evade particle cannon fire. As Lt. Hect desperately tried to reform his squadron for another pass the command channel crackled: “Corvette squadron, disengage! Repeat, disengage.” 

“Copy that, Farside. We are disengaging.” 

The alien ships were past Earth and headed for the inner solar system. As far as they could tell, no enemy fire had been directed at Farside or the planet. Lt. Hect sat stunned in his command pilot's chair. He had never been in a dogfight so one sided, where he had lost so many planes in so short a time. As his helmet's tactical display cleared and the corvette's cockpit faded back into view he said aloud, “my God, what have we gotten ourselves into?”

Chapter 19

Fleet HQ, Farside

A chill passed through the HQ command center as the damage reports came in from the corvette attack. Three ships destroyed, three more seriously damaged and no longer combat effective. In a single engagement Farside had lost three quarters of its available corvette fleet. The enemy continued on mostly unscathed, with the exception of one ship whose shields seemed weakened by the attack.

“Corvette flights 1 & 2, return to base,” called the base tactical officer. Not that they had much choice—most were damaged and all were low on munitions.

“That did not go at all well,” commented Gretchen, continuing to follow the aliens' track. “I wonder if they will swing around and make a run at the base—they have to know we are here.”

“I'm thinkin' no, Captain,” Billy Ray said.

“And why not, Commander?”

“Watch. Chief, plot the known and calculated alter-space transit points on the tactical display.”

“Aye, Sir.” 

Floating in the 3D display tank, yellow crosses appeared scattered across the solar system. Both Gretchen and Ludmilla said nothing but leaned forward, concentrating on the display. As they watched projected courses for the alien ships appeared. One diverged slightly from the other two.

“See? The ship that we think was hit is separating from the others. If this is a recon mission, they don't really want to fight. They mean to exit as fast as possible and carry what intelligence they've gathered back to their main force.”

“I think you are right, Billy Ray. Captain, what should we do?”

“What is the logical transfer point for that ship to head for?” Gretchen asked.

“Most probably Delta Pavonis, Ma'am,” one of the sailors replied. One of the yellow markers glowed more brightly, indicating the transfer point in space.

“Yep, it's south off the ecliptic plane right around an AU from the Sun. Their course will take 'em about 2 AU total—call it almost three days if they maintain roughly the same velocity along the course trajectory.”

“What about the other two?” asked Ludmilla as Gretchen nodded in agreement.

“Can't tell yet, Ma'am. We will have to wait until they make a course change.”

“Well there is one thing we can do,” Gretchen snarled. “Order the frigates to head for the Delta Pavonis transfer point; match acceleration to arrive for intercept just prior to transit.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

Hearing Room, Farside

With the next possible events in the alien incursion still several days away, Ludmilla decided to see to the rabble who had rioted in the Atrium the previous day. A temporary hearing chamber was set up on lower level, near the storage room where the rioters were incarcerated. A raised dais had been quickly constructed with a judge's bench and seats along both sides of the room for observers. Witnesses and spectators had been filing into the courtroom for almost an hour. The accused would get to sit on simple benches in front of the judges for their trial.

Americans always say they believed in quick justice,
thought Ludmilla as the other two judges ascended the dais: Dr. Rajiv Gupta and TK Parker.
We will put that idea to the test right now.
 

“Ludmilla, what are we doing?” asked Rajiv, who had been called from his lab in the science section. Most of the lab workers were unaware of the Atrium riot, only emerging when general quarters sounded.

“You are here to act as a judge, Rajiv. And you too, TK. The three of us will review the evidence regarding those about to be brought before us and render a verdict.”

“But I'm not a lawyer,” objected Rajiv, “I'm totally unqualified to be a judge.”

“You can think critically. All that is needed is to positively identify those who took place in the riot.”
The hard part will be deciding on the punishment.
 

“I know what the crime was, but what are we charging 'em with, Ludmilla?” TK had already rolled into place on the dais behind the makeshift judicial bench.

Further conversation among the panel of judges was interrupted by the appearance of several Marine guards at the entrance. A master sergeant stepped forward and announced “Your honors, we have brought the accused.”

TK pounded on the bench with a gavel someone had provided. He had been in court enough times in his life to have a general idea of what should happen. “Order in the court!” he said in a loud voice, “Sergeant, bring in the accused.”

The Marines marched the twenty seven prisoners into the courtroom to stand before the bench. They were all dressed in shocking pink jumpsuits, their hands tie-cuffed in front of them. Most appeared dazed and confused, possibly still feeling the affects of being stunned. Three of the prisoners had medical dressings over burn wounds and several others sported minor scrapes and bruises.

The accused had been provided with a lawyer, a man from Nebraska who was formerly the mayor of a small country town. He had quickly grasped what was happening when Ludmilla called him to plead for the defense. His first action had been to separate out the dozen or so minors who had participated in the demonstration, arguing that they should not be tried as adults. Judge Tropsha had agreed to that, wishing to concentrate on the adult rioters, those unquestionably responsible for their own actions.