M'tak Ka'fek (The T'aafhal Inheritance) (42 page)

“Do we know what weapons they possess?”

“Negative, their drive signatures are unknown and the hull configurations never seen before.”

“If we assume that they are at least as well armed as the formation that Capt. Curtis is engaged with, Lt. Hect's wing will be annihilated if they attack.”

 “They would certainly suffer a high attrition rate, Ma'am,” a nearby officer commented. The senior Naval officer present, a Commander who's ship had not been completed in time for the battle, spoke up.

“Colonel, Capt. Curtis looks likely to finish off the first wave of invaders within a few hours. If Hect's corvettes attacked this second wave, from behind as it were, they might just delay the aliens long enough for the frigates to make it back to defend the base.”

“Or Hect's force might just be wiped out to no purpose,” Ludmilla replied. This was the down side of being in command, people did what you told them to do, but in the end the decisions were yours.

“That is of course a possibility, Ma'am.”

“Farside, Vegetable Patch. Can you read me, over?” Vegetable Patch was the somewhat facetious call sign for Captain Vincent's mission to Mercury.

“Yes, Capt. Vincent, we read you. Interrogative the purpose of your call?”

“I have a lot of excited plants in my hold that would like me to relay a message to you...”

Attack of the Killer Cacti

“The Triads want us to do what?” replied the HQ communications officer.

“They say that there are a large number of hostile ships congregating near the Beta Comae transit point and that they would really like to neutralize 'em. Only problem is that there's a flight of corvettes near the enemy and the Guardians are afraid of hitting them as well.”

“Hitting them with what, Captain?”

“I'm not really sure about that, but I get the impression it would not be in the PT boat sailors' best interests to be too close.”

“What should we do, Colonel?” asked the Commander. All eyes were on Ludmilla—it was her call.

Der'mo! If we are not going to trust the Triads we should not have brought them to the party.
“Order Lt. Hect to leave the vicinity of the alien fleet. Tell him to head away from Earth at top acceleration.” 

“Aye aye, Ma'am...”

* * * * *

On board the Peggy Sue, Billy Ray was in the CIC watching the tactical situation develop. In the converted cargo hold, NatHanGon, Jean-Jacques de Belcour and Melissa Scott Hamilton were with the Guardians.

“Look there, Jean-Jacques. See those flashes of light in the soil between the Guardians?” asked an excited Melissa. She had been in horticulturalist heaven, studying the Triad's mini-conclave on the voyage back to Earth, but this was even more exciting.

“Yes, Melissa, I see the lights.” Jean-Jacques had no idea why the American plant scientist was so excited, but he expected that she would tell him.

“I knew it was that fungus, the one they insisted on being present in the soil around them. It conducts the signals from their roots, even if they aren't touching. If that don't beat all.”

“Yes, MelissaScottHamilton, the soil fungus helps transmit signals between us, to others whose roots are not in direct contact; It is an exceptional honor to be present as the Guardians perform their ancient duties, even for us; Has the Captain relayed the Guardians' concern over the flight of small Earth ships near their intended targets?”

“That is totally fascinating, NatHanGon; Jean-Jacques and I are honored to be here and even more honored that your Guardians are going to help us; I'll ask the Captain again if he managed to talk to the base.”

Melissa had long ago mastered the triple sentence fragment speech used by the three brained plants. She was so used to conversing with the Ambassador that talking with the Captain took extra concentration to keep from say three things at once.

“Captain, Cargo Hold. Have y'all managed to get a hold of Farside yet?”

“Roger, Melissa, they have ordered the corvette wing to clear the target area. Tell our allies they are free to fire when the corvettes are clear.”

“The Guardians' report that your little ships have cleared the danger zone; If this does not kill us it should prove interesting; Prepare yourselves, the Guardians are going to fire.”

Crackling discharges danced among the roots of the giant plants. Lightning arced among their triple trunked bodies and the smell of ozone filled the air.

“Wow!” said Melissa.

“Mon Dieu!” said Jean-Jacques.

The Ambassador rattled his flowers excitedly.

* * * * *

Within the Sun's photosphere large prominences formed, swaying in magnetic fields that dwarfed the Earth in size. Spicules, long thin filaments of luminous gas, rose and fell within the chromosphere. Like fiery blades of grass, they formed shimmering fields growing up from the photosphere below. Ripples of light and dark washed across the Sun's surface, building to a climactic event never before seen in the solar system.

“Colonel, there is some kind of disturbance on the face of the Sun,” reported one of the HQ technicians. Yuki and Rajiv had joined Ludmilla in the command center when it was reported that the Triads were about to do something.

“I don't know what's going to happen but it is most probably going to be spectacular,” Rajiv exclaimed excitedly. “Remember, what we are seeing actually happened eight minutes ago!”

“It would appear that the Triads are inducing some form of solar eruption,” added Yuki. Both physicists were more excited by the unexplained solar phenomenon than the pending alien attack.

The Sun's radiance pulsed faster and faster—finally its photosphere reached a peak of brightness and then darkened. Between the Sun's photosphere and corona, the chromosphere lased.

“Look at the telescope view of the alien fleet,” yelled someone in the darkened control center. On one of the wall displays the fifty plus objects that were the second wave of the alien attack flared like miniature Suns.

When the glare subsided there was nothing to be seen from the telescope. Within the tactical display tank the second wave of alien invaders began blinking and then disappeared.

“Where did they go?” demanded Ludmilla.

“They're gone, Colonel,” replied an awed sensor operator. “There's nothing left of them but a cloud of hot plasma—the whole fleet was vaporized!”

Cheers went up across the control room.

Chapter 25

Out of the Frying Pan

M'tak Ka'fek emerged from alter-space to find a binary star system—a diminutive red dwarf orbiting a K class dwarf heavier than the Sun. There were no planets in the warm life habitable zone, but there was an ice planet similar to Neptune and icy planetoids galore farther out. From a number of locations, ships appeared.

“Captain, we have several ships converging on our position at accelerations as high as 40G. The nearest were underway within twenty minutes of our emergence—given how fast they launched they must be a quick reaction force. I would guess that they are armed.”

“Very good, Mr. Taylor,” Jack replied. He was in a good mood, with his crew whole again and Bear back at his normal place on the main fire-control console. “I suppose we are in for some unpleasantness. Bring the superluminal particle cannon on line.”

Mizuki rose from her seat near the helm and, with a smile for Bobby, headed aft to crew one of the secondary battery control stations. The ship could be fought entirely from the bridge—entirely from the commander's chair for that matter—but having independent gun crews made the ship more efficient and more deadly in battle.

“Captain, four, six, no seven ships just emerged from alter-space behind us. They must be the ones chasing us as we left Ring Station.”

“I was expecting as much, Lt. Taylor. Lt. Bear, status of the secondary battery?”

“Manned and ready, Captain.”

“Very good. Target the nearest of the pursuers and the nearest of those trying to intercept. Wait for my signal.”

“Aye aye. Mizuki, target the closest ship aft, Aput the closest ship forward.”

“Not going to take them yourself, Mr. Bear?”

“I'm an older and wiser bear since our vacation on Ring Station, Captain. Besides, the gun crews can use the practice, and some fun.”

Jack smiled,
perhaps he has grown a bit wiser—perhaps we all have.
“Mr. Taylor, do you remember having a discussion with the ship's AI regarding our shields and the ability to cloak the ship from most electromagnetic radiation?” 

“Yes Sir. I believe that M'tak claimed the ship could all but disappear, like Harry Potter's cloak of invisibility.”

“Please, Lieutenant, you are on a starship, not a flying broom,” the Captain scolded. At the helm, Bobby leaned over and asked Sandy, “Who's Harry Potter?” 

“Really, Mate? You are such a total science fiction dweeb.”

“Prepare to activate cloaking mode, Mr. Taylor. M'tak, do you have the vector for a singularity jump home?”

“Yes, Captain. I have sent the course to the helm. I must say, I am intrigued by your preparations for battle.”

“There is an old saying among Earthlings: 'The best weapon against an enemy is another enemy.' ”

“Course laid in, Captain,” Sandy reported from the helm.

“On my mark and smartly, and don't spare the engines, helm.”

“Aye aye, Sir!” Sandy and Bobby answered in unison.

“You may fire, Mr. Bear; Turn on cloaking mode, Mr. Taylor; Helm, put us on course for home.”

Two alien vessels flared with the harsh radiance of lost antimatter containment as superluminal particles burst into normal space inside their hulls. At his station Bear chuckled. “That just doesn't get old.”

The massive T'aafhal ship vanished from the converging aliens' sensors, leaving them with only each other to target. As battle erupted between pursuers and interceptors, the M'tak veered away from the conflict, accelerating at 200Gs.

Third Wave

A sense of relief spread throughout the Farside control room, jubilant exclamations barely contained. In the darkness, people could be seen pounding each other on the backs, some embracing. Before a full on celebration could break out Ludmilla called for a status check on the other engagements.

“What is the status of the corvettes? Have they intercepted the three ships that broke off from the first wave?”

“Colonel, Squadron Commander Melaku reports that they have managed to delay two of the enemy ships, but the third slipped by them and is headed for the Earth-Moon system.”

Ludmilla's facial expression did not change, she simply nodded. “And the status of Capt. Curtis' frigates?”

“They are heavily engaged; the enemy is down to four effectives. One of ours, the Chesapeake, has taken significant damage to its shields but is still able to make way.”

“What is the ETA on the inbound hostile?”

“Thirty five minutes, Ma'am.”

“Notify Base Defense. Have them raise the shields and prepare to repel enemy forces.”

* * * * *

“I hope these railgun contraptions we rigged up work under combat conditions,” Lem said to his friend. Both wore suits of light space armor—light only in comparison with the Marines' heavy combat armor. Earlier, the power enhancing musculature of the suits helped them load the railgun cannons' heavy magazines full of 10kg metallic slugs. Now they were concealed at a vantage point near the lunar surface where they could observe the defense emplacements directly.

“Now Lemuel, you know what old Stonewall Jackson used to say: Never take council of your fears,” replied Clem.

“Yeah. I also remember what H. L. Mencken said:
Of all escape mechanisms, death is the most efficient.”
 

“Well then we got nothing to worry about—you ain't never been efficient in your whole life.”

From several points on the rugged landscape that covered Farside base, brief flashes marked the launch of gravitonic torpedoes. Two brilliant explosions spilled across the space above the base—plasma knots detonating on the defensive shields.

“We got anything on the targeting radar?” asked Clem.

“Yeah, just letting 'em get a bit closer,” answered Lem. The alien invasion had just become real for the people at Farside.

* * * * *

At the Delta Pavonis alter-space transit point the third wave of alien attackers materialized. Eight ships in all, four of a type Earth's defenders had seen before. They were the same as the three ships that made the reconnaissance flight more than two months ago. A pair split off and headed for Mars while the remaining two headed toward the Sun and Mercury. 

The other four ships were not familiar, though their design showed similarities to the smaller vessels. Squat and dark, they looked like a collection of nested sections of pipe with blunt, rounded ends. They were battle cruisers, heavily armed and armored dreadnoughts that dwarfed their lighter escorts.

Perhaps some of those on board the menacing ships had thoughts of payback—a desire to avenge those of their kind who had perished scouting the system around them. Perhaps not. The creatures called themselves Xoosht. Inhabitants of deep cold methane seas on a distant ice world, the thoughts of the invaders were totally, unknowingly alien. One thing was understood—they had come to erase all life from the solar system.

A single battle cruiser should have sufficed to eradicate the warm life scum opposing them, four were sent—these creatures believed in overkill. Assuming a diamond shaped formation they set a course for Earth.