The Star Cross (6 page)

“We’re
evacuating slightly over three million people,” Braid replied. “We’re moving
them through triage centers and testing them for radiation. Those that test
high are detained and placed in hospitals for treatment. We’ve mobilized both
the National Guard and the Reserve to help with the evacuations.”

“Hospitals in
the immediate vicinity of both cities are already filled to capacity,” added
Raul Gutierrez of Homeland Security. “We’re using military transport
helicopters to aid in moving the overflow to other facilities. The civilian
medical helicopters didn’t have the lifting capacity.”

“We’re
doing everything we can to help the affected areas,” President Mayfield informed
them. “Leaders in other areas of the world, where cities were hit, are doing their
best to alleviate the suffering and contain the radiation.”

“What
do we do when these Profiteers return?” demanded Stroud with a stormy look.
“Are we going to resist? It seems as if we are just going to turn the planet
back over to the Profiteers when they show up again. Some of my business
associates have already expressed their concerns, in a not-very-polite manner.”

“We’re
setting up special operation units to be used as we see fit to take out targets
of opportunity,” General Braid answered. “Also a half dozen secure command and
control centers will be responsible for military activities in their areas.”

“What
about the Europeans, Russians, and the Chinese?” asked Max Sallow. “All three
possess sizable militaries.”

“They’re
setting up quick-reaction forces also,” answered General Braid. “We don’t dare
offer heavy resistance with major forces. The Profiteers would just nuke them
from orbit, and we don’t want to encourage that.”

“So,
for the most part, we just cooperate with them,” muttered Stroud, his eyes
narrowing. “None of that would be necessary if the fleet would stay and fight,
instead of fleeing to Newton. I’m already losing some of my financial backers.”

“As
we’ve discussed before, Admiral Vickers’s fleet would be wiped out, and then we
would have no hope of ever being free of these Profiteers,” President Mayfield
said, frowning at Stroud. “The course of action we’ve chosen offers the best
opportunity for our world to be free in the future.”

“I
still think the fleet should stay,” grumbled Stroud, shaking his head in denial.

“How’s
the evacuation going?” asked Secretary of Education Connie Saxon.

“As
well as can be expected,” replied Mayfield, letting out a deep breath. “The
Russian Collective is using eight cargo ships and two passenger liners to
shuttle people and supplies to Newton. The Chinese Conglomerate has another twelve
cargo ships and three passenger liners doing the same.”

“Who’s
picking these foreign people?” demanded Stroud. “The North American Union
established the Newton colony, and I don’t like the idea of the Russians and
the Chinese sending people there. How can they be sending people when my
recommendations are immediately rejected by Fleet Admiral Tomalson’s people?”

“No
one is allowed to go to Newton without our approval,” Tomalson informed Stroud,
as well as the others. “The Russians and Chinese are both submitting lists of proposed
evacuees to our shipyard personnel. They’ve been given some strict guidelines
as to who we will accept and those that we will not. So far there have been no
problems.”

“Until
the Profiteers show up again,” muttered Stroud. “And my people remain on Earth.”

“How
much longer can we expect Admiral Vickers to remain in orbit?” asked Maureen
Roberts.

Everyone
on the Cabinet knew, when the fleet left, that either the Profiteers had
returned or were about to. Several looked frightened, probably thinking about
what that would mean for the North American Union and the rest of the world.

“It’s
difficult to say,” Fleet Admiral Tomalson responded. His eyes looked tired, as if
he had been getting very little sleep, with so much planning and work to be
done in a very short time frame. “I would guess two more weeks at the outside—three
if we’re lucky—but I’m not planning on it.”

“What
about the Moon, Mars, and the other colonies in the Solar System?” asked Dwight
Michaels. “Are they being evacuated?”

“Some
are,” answered President Mayfield. “The Profiteers never went anywhere else in
the Solar System other than here at Earth.”

“Why?”
asked Stroud. “Why us and not them?”

“All
the money is here,” responded Michaels. “These Profiteers are after gold,
platinum, jewels, and anything else that can be turned into a quick profit. The
other colonies are dependent upon Earth to some extent for supplies and
support. Only the Moon and Mars are close to being self-sufficient.”

“Most
of the smaller mining operations are to be evacuated to the larger colonies,”
Mayfield added. “The Europeans are shipping as many supplies to Mars as
possible. The Russians and the Chinese are doing the same thing with the moons
of Jupiter and Saturn, in the hope that their colonies will be spared.”

“We
all have bases on the Moon,” Fleet Admiral Tomalson continued. “Most of those
are evacuated or being reduced to skeleton crews, until this crisis is over. A
few of the larger underground cities are being heavily supplied, and the people
who don’t come down to Earth will move into them.”

“If
it’s ever over,” mumbled Stroud, with an angry glint in his eyes. “My office is
receiving thousands of calls each hour, demanding to know what our government will
do to protect the people. What do I tell them?”

Mayfield
leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, as he contemplated Stroud’s
question. It was a legitimate one. Every government office was swamped by
incoming calls, demanding to know what the government would do. The North
American Union didn’t have a big enough fleet to defend the whole Earth. If the
NAU still had their original ships of the fleet, then things might be
different. However, they didn’t. They had Admiral Vickers’s task group, and the
NAU couldn’t afford to risk it in a battle they couldn’t win. Most of the other
major powers had concentrated their explorations to inside the Solar System so
had never built warships. The NAU had signed agreements with all of them that
the NAU fleets would protect Earth in case of an attack or invasion. The NAU
had also accepted crews for several ships from contributing countries that had
helped to pay for the protective fleets.

The
same thing with military forces. The air force would be shot down from the sky,
even with their modern attack jets. Ground units would just be bombed out of
existence from the enemies in orbit. The NAU and other countries would keep some
forces hidden and ready for when the opportunity presented itself to strike a
telling blow against the enemy, for everyone expected the Profiteers to return
in far greater force than before. So, for an unknown amount of time, the humans
of Earth would have to live as a conquered people.

The
path of least resistance to the Profiteers would ensure that most of the people
on the planet survived. There was also a reasonable chance that the rural areas
would see little change in their daily lives, as the Profiteers were bound to
concentrate their activities in the metropolitan areas where most of the
planet’s riches were located.

“When
the Profiteers return, I’ll make an announcement, explaining what must be
done,” Mayfield said, leaning forward and placing his hands on the large wooden
conference table. The wood felt cool to the touch. “We’ll tell our people that
the enemy has returned and to cooperate with them. There will be no armed
resistance, and all our efforts will be aimed at preserving this Union and our people.”

General
Braid explained further. “Our Special Forces units will only be sent into
action if the Profiteers are intent on killing,” General Braid said, his face
taking on a deadly look. “If we lose citizens, then all holds are off. We’ll
engage the Profiteers at every opportunity, regardless of the risk.”

“How
will the Union function under the conditions the Profiteers will bring?” asked Connie
Saxon. “Parents may not be willing to send their children to our schools,
fearing for their safety.”

“Those
are questions that will have to be answered when the time comes,” Mayfield
responded with a deep sigh.

He
knew they were facing tough and trying times ahead. He just prayed they were
doing the right thing. They had a plan in place that might mean there was,
indeed, a light at the end of the tunnel. However, the tunnel might be
unbelievably long.

President
Mayfield looked across the conference table at his Cabinet. It had been decided
the Cabinet members would be split up and sent to three secure locations to
ensure that succession to the presidency remained intact.

“Has anyone
seen the secretary of labor the last few days?” asked Connie Saxon.

“No,” replied Max
Sallow. “I heard a rumor that he took a flight to Hong Kong to meet with some
of his business associates.”

Mayfield
turned toward General Braid with a questioning look.

“He wants off
the planet,” the general answered, shaking his head. “I’m sure he’s trying to
make a deal to board one of the Chinese vessels going to Newton.”

Mayfield
looked over at Anne Roselin. “Contact the Chinese Conglomerate and remind them
that only qualified people are to be allowed on their cargo ships and passenger
liners. Secretary of Labor Stroud is not to be allowed to board one of their
ships.”

“I’ll contact MaLin
Chung,” Anne replied with a nod of her head. “He has no respect for Secretary
of Labor Stroud and will see to it that he doesn’t have access to one of the
Chinese ships.”

“Past
problems?” asked Connie Saxon curiously.

“Yes,” Anne
answered with a confirming nod. “They had some dealings that went bad, and
MaLin lost a considerable sum of money. There is no love lost between the two.”

With a sigh
and a shake of his head, Mayfield addressed Fleet Admiral Tomalson. “What’s the
situation in orbit?”

“The
Kepler
and the
Dante
have left for Newton,” Tomalson replied. “The two light
cruisers in the repair bays have been updated and have joined Admiral Vickers’s
fleet in orbit. We’re in the process of dismantling part of the shipyard to
send as well.”

“The entire
shipyard?” asked Dwight Michaels with a stunned look in his eyes. “We spent
billions building the damn thing!”

“We don’t have
the time to dismantle the entire shipyard,” Tomalson explained with a deep
sigh. “We have two heavy tugs taking the construction bay and a manufacturing
section to Newton.”

“How soon
before the Profiteers return?” asked Connie Saxon.

“We’re expecting
then any day now,” the fleet admiral replied. “We’re actually surprised they
haven’t shown up already.”

“What will the
fleet do if some our evacuee ships are still in Earth orbit?”

Fleet Admiral
Tomalson looked over at Connie and then replied. “They have orders to stay in
orbit until all the cargo ships and passenger liners have safely entered
hyperspace. As soon as the last ship is away, Admiral Vickers will break orbit
and head for Newton.”

The room
became quiet, as the Cabinet thought over those cryptic words. They all knew
that, once Admiral Vickers was gone, their world would be at the mercy of the
Profiteers.

-

“Fleet tug
Juno
is ready to enter hyperspace,” reported Ensign Brenda Pierce from Communications.

“She’s taking
the main manufacturing section of the shipyard,” added Captain Randson, as he
peered intently at the main viewscreen, which was focused on the tug and its
precious cargo.

Kurt nodded.
The fleet tug
Poseidon
had left the day before with the large
construction bay. Kurt just hoped the
Poseidon
made it safely to Newton. She was in a convoy consisting of two destroyers, three passenger liners, and
seven cargo ships. However, due to the mass of the construction bay, the tug’s
hyperspace engine would be tasked to the max.

“Unidentified
contact!” called out Lieutenant Lena Brooks. “Range is four million kilometers.
We’re being scanned!”

“Order the
Juno
to enter hyperspace now!” ordered Kurt, sensing this might be the return of the
Profiteers. “Get me an ID on that contact.”

“Ship is 1,100
hundred meters in length and 220 meters in diameter,” Brooks promptly reported.
She turned toward the admiral with a look of deep concern on her face. “She’s
not one of ours.”

“All ships go
to Condition One,” ordered Kurt, taking a deep breath. “Bring all weapons
systems online.” Then, turning toward Ensign Pierce, he said, “Instruct all
ships currently in orbit that they have ten minutes to make their jump into
hyperspace and head for Newton. Contact any ship on the surface ready to launch
and tell them to do so immediately, or they will be left behind.” Looking
around, Kurt could see the Command Center come alive with intense activity as
the crew prepared for battle. He nodded in satisfaction at their
professionalism.

“Colonel
Hayworth says it will take him twenty minutes to get the last of his construction
people aboard the
Newton Princess
,” reported Ensign Pierce.

“Tell him to
hurry,” instructed Kurt, shifting his gaze to one of the viewscreens, which
showed the partially disassembled shipyard. He could see a large passenger
liner still docked. They needed those construction people off the station, plus
the fleet personnel still on board.

“Shields are
at 97 percent, and weapons are ready to fire,” reported Lieutenant Mays.

Kurt switched
the comm channel so he could speak to Captain Watkins on the
Vindication
.
“Henry, bring in the fighters you have out on CSP. We’ll be leaving as soon as
the evacuating civilians are safely away.”

“Leaving like
this leaves a sour taste in my mouth,” Henry replied tonelessly. “We don’t know
what the Profiteers will do to Earth.”

“We have a
plan,” Kurt answered. He had spoken briefly to President Mayfield and Fleet
Admiral Tomalson, offering a suggestion to make things go easier on Earth when
the Profiteers returned, at least initially. “We’ll be coming back again
someday. I promise.”

“I know it’s
what we have to do,” Watkins answered somberly. “It’s just hard to actually do
it.”

-

A number of minutes
passed as the red threat icon sat on the tactical screen not moving. With satisfaction,
Kurt saw his fleet forming up around the
Star Cross
in a loose globe
formation with the battlecruiser and the light carrier in the center.

“
Juno
is jumping into hyperspace,” Lieutenant Brooks reported, as the green icon
representing the fleet tug suddenly vanished from the sensor screen.

“We have two
passenger liners and six cargo ships launching from Earth,” reported Captain Randson.

Kurt had
overheard him talking to the launch controllers at the spaceports on the ground,
continually stressing to them the importance of getting those ships up.

“Numerous
contacts!” cried out Lieutenant Brooks in near panic, as alarms sounded on her
sensor console. “Nineteen more hostiles have exited hyperspace in combat
range!”

“What about
the civilian ships in orbit?” demanded Kurt.

They would be
sitting ducks for the weapons of these large ships. Their captive, Grantz, had
indicated High Profiteer Creed would probably hire a group of mercenaries to
retake Earth. They would most likely come in battleships, which could easily
destroy the Earth ships.

“They’ve all
jumped out,” Brooks answered, as the last civilian ship vanished into
hyperspace.

“What about
the
Newton Princess
?”

“She has
undocked from the shipyard and is accelerating away, toward open space,”
reported Captain Randson, as he kept his eyes glued to the viewscreen showing
the fleeing passenger liner. “Colonel Hayworth reports they got everyone from
the shipyard on board.”

Moments later,
the green icon representing the large passenger liner vanished from the
tactical display, as the ship jumped into hyperspace.

“Enemy vessels
are closing,” reported Lieutenant Brooks.

The
Star
Cross
shook slightly, and Kurt knew they were under fire from the unknown
ships. This pretty much confirmed they were dealing with Profiteers or
Profiteer mercenaries.

“All ships
return fire,” Kurt ordered firmly. On the tactical screen, he could see a
number of green icons crawling slowly upward from the surface of Earth. These
were the passenger liners and cargo ships that Captain Randson had been trying
to get into space. Suddenly one of the icons swelled up and vanished. “What
just happened?”

“The Profiteers
are targeting the passenger liners and cargo ships,” reported Lieutenant Brooks
in a horrified voice. Even as she spoke, another green icon vanished from her
sensor screen.

“Those ships
don’t have any weapons or energy shields,” Andrew said in anger. “They’ll be
picked off before they can make orbit. Why the hell are they targeting unarmed
ships?”

“Order them to
land!” commanded Kurt, his eyes glinting in anger.

The remaining
cargo ships and passenger liners had no chance to make orbit. Their only hope
was to return to ground. The Profiteers had demonstrated once more how
merciless they were toward civilians. Kurt wasn’t sure, but those two downed ships
had probably held several thousand people.

-

Clan Leader Jarls
grinned in mirthless satisfaction as his ship blasted the civilian ships trying
to escape the planet. On one of the viewscreens, he watched as an energy
projector drilled a glowing hole in the hull of a fleeing human vessel. Moments
later the ship vanished in a bright explosion, obliterating it.

“The other
human vessels are turning back and are apparently attempting to land,” reported
Salas, his second in command. “Should we destroy them?”

“No,” Jarls
answered. “Let them land. They might contain some valuable cargo. Concentrate
our fire on the human warships. Either destroy or drive them from orbit.”

-

In space, the
fire between the two fleets rapidly intensified. The Dacroni mercenary ships
were using ion beams, energy weapons, and hypermissiles to strike at the human
warships. The humans, in turn, were firing back with their particle beam
cannons, laser turrets, KEW batteries, and heavy ship missiles. Space was full
of exploding munitions and crisscrossed with various beams of energy.

The human
destroyer
Titan
was suddenly bracketed by the fire of four Dacroni
battleships. Her energy shield flared brightly and then wavered. A pair of
hypermissiles flashed through the compromised screen, impacting the stern of
the ship. Two small glowing suns appeared as the ship was turned into glowing
plasma.

-

“The destroyer
Titan
is down,” reported Lieutenant Brooks in a pained voice.

“Admiral, the
light cruiser
Sydney
is reporting moderate damage,” Captain Randson
added. “We need to get out of here. We’re facing too much firepower, and our
own weapons don’t seem to be causing significant damage.”

Kurt nodded.
“All ships, accelerate along vector south eighteen degrees, coordinates seven by
fourteen. Full sublight. We’ll enter hyperspace as soon as we’re clear of the
enemy ships.”

-

The human
fleet promptly accelerated from the Dacroni battleships in an outward
trajectory toward Earth’s Moon. Moments later, the fleet entered the safety of
hyperspace and vanished from all Dacroni sensors.

“Human ships
have jumped into hyperspace,” reported Second Officer Salas. “We destroyed one
of their light units and damaged several of their heavier vessels in the brief exchange.”

“And our own
ships?” demanded Jarls. Any damage to be repaired he fully intended High Profiteer
Creed to pay for.

“The
Marsuth
is reporting light damage from a particle beam strike,” reported Salas. “It’s repairable,
and the ship should be fully operational within the hour.”

Jarls nodded,
satisfied. The humans hadn’t put up much of a fight. This concerned him, as he
had thought his fleet would have to engage in a pitched battle in orbit for
possession of the planet. Now they would have to be vigilant in case the human
ships returned. “Contact High Profiteer Creed and inform him the planet is
ours. Tell him the fighting was heavy, and several of our ships suffered
damage.”

Jarls had no
problem in exaggerating the truth in order to glean more credits for his fleet.
From the amount of gold that Creed had paid for protection by the clan’s
battleships, Jarls was certain the High Profiteer could easily afford this
additional charge. It was all in the course of doing business.

-

After going
into orbit around Earth, High Profiteer Creed gazed at the main viewscreen displaying
the blue-white world. The planet was once more under his firm control, and his
fleet of cargo ships and the detainee ships would be arriving shortly.

“Clan Leader Jarls
is demanding five million credits to cover the damage to his ships suffered in
their brief battle with the Earth ships,” growled Second Profiteer Lantz. “I am
leery of his claim, as our own sensors are not showing that any of his vessels
suffered serious damage except the
Marsuth
.”

Creed looked
over at Third Profiteer Bixt on Sensors. “How serious is the damage to the
Marsuth
?”

“There is a
two-meter hole in her hull close to Engineering,” Bixt replied. “It should be
easily repairable by the ship’s crew.”

“Lukon,
contact Clan Leader Jarls and inform him that we will set aside five hundred
thousand credits for his ship repairs.”

“That might
anger him,” warned Lantz, his large eyes growing wider.

“I doubt it,”
Creed replied. “He stands to make sufficient profit off our deal. He won’t risk
it over this slight squabble. I suspect he’ll agree to our offer.”

A few moments
later Creed’s prediction proved true, as Clan Leader Jarls accepted the offer
with little protest.

“Put us in
orbit above what the humans call New York City. Our other ships are to take up
geostationary orbits above other major population centers.” Creed intended to
leave no doubt in the humans’ minds what he intended. If they refused to cooperate,
he would use his fleet’s energy weapons to take out selected targets in the
cities.