Echo of Tomorrow: Book Two (The Drake Chronicles) (50 page)

That was all the better for Scott, yet he wondered how long it would be before the lizards came up with a similar idea, or some defensive measure they hadn’t thought of yet. The Pluto shield test proved invaluable as time and again, each side tested a new gun or a better shield. All this was going on in the background, and now handled by his command staff as well as his war council back on Earth. That left Scott time to think of long-range plans, and much of it was guesswork. A lot depended on how well they did in the next battle with the lizards, and what they threw at them. His thought about a different class of ship to take the fight to the aliens was taking shape in his mind, one based on the carrier principle. What kind of combat contingency they would carry would depend largely on how well the gunships did in a major engagement. He sketched a rough outline of how a battle group would be made up on a sheet of paper, thinking in terms of a cluster, with a carrier at the center. This would be complemented with a simplified version of a battle cruiser: something fast and heavily armed to protect them.

After doodling for an hour, he consigned the sheaf of sketches to the flash incinerator, wanting to leave nothing around that any spy might like to get their hands on. All this would have to wait until later, after seeing what the lizards threw at them. If it was more of the same, and if his two new elements proved themselves, he’d think seriously about the fleet idea again, and eyeing the date, he knew they were overdue for a visit.

* * * * * *

Scott drove them day after day in simulated combat as more and more ships formed up in his battle group on station between Earth and the north solar warp point. He tried to make it as much fun as possible, offering a bottle of the best Highland Whisky to the day’s winner. The one thing he didn’t want to do was to drive them to exhaustion and burn out. Gradually, his fleet shook itself down into a fighting whole, even the new ships coming into service quickly settled into their assigned positions. Scott sat in his command seat and watched the unfolding simulated battle, looking grim. This time the simulated aliens had thrown two major task forces against him, and one at Earth simultaneously. This meant, as he feared, that he’d have to split his forces, since the old
NZ
wasn’t up to stopping a second fleet by itself. He detached a third of his available forces to intercept the second alien battle group, using the old
NZ
as one part of a pincer movement. It was all a question of delta vee. If his navigator’s calculations were correct it would work, if not, then the enemy could destroy each force piecemeal. Not a comforting thought, seeing as his battle plan was in jeopardy. He hadn’t yet committed the missile ships or the gunships, since at the moment they were in a long-range missile duel as the two fleets closed. As before, the enemy commander was short on tactics, simply aiming his force at his and coming on full strength, shields overlapping and firing as fast as he could.

The moment he’d reached extreme missile range he’d opened up, and the sheer number of targets coming at him caused a cold sweat to break out on Scott’s forehead, even if this was fake. He had cheated a little on this one, adding the element of the kids’ quick reflexes into the mix. He hated doing it, but he didn’t have another viable option. Once fully trained, they’d proved themselves more than capable of handling the sheer volume of incoming missiles and fighters. This time he also held back his fighters, overriding an ear-numbing protest from a certain group commander, namely his wife.

“Enemy ships now at the outer edge of our missile engagement envelope and launching fighters, skipper,” announced Jenny Balkan, the duty weapons officer.

“Thank you, guns, I see them—launch counter-missile strikes, but hold your fire on the capital units until you have a positive lock.”

“Aye-aye, sir. Hold until we have a positive lock.”

The antimissile board lit up as hundred of hunter killer projectiles left their racks. These were almost immediately followed by ECM and ECCM units. The ECM was designed to confuse the enemy’s missile-tracking system, the second, ECCM units, put out a hotter electronic signature than any of the main battle units for the enemy missiles to lock onto. That should cut down on the number of lizard missiles arriving at this end, and gave the point defense system a better chance of killing the rest. Both fleets pulled back on their speed, so their long-range offensive armaments had a better chance to do some damage. Scott prepared to go into reverse, to give his antimissile and countermeasure units a chance to work their magic. He also hoped the enemy would use up a major portion of its available expendable weapons. No matter how big his magazines were, he had a limited number of missiles he could fire at him. After that, he had to get into knife fighting range.

“Have a positive missile lock on the major enemy units, skipper,” Jenny Belkin announced, “and the enemy has launched his fighters.”

“Lady Gray, order all missile ships to commence firing.”

“
Yes my captain. All units now firing, as you commanded
.” Even before she’d finished speaking, Scott saw hundreds of green markers streaking across the battle board.

“Time to impact?” he said.

“Three minutes and thirty-five seconds, Admiral,” Jenny Balkan answered.

The volley of missiles didn’t stop; wave after wave of them streamed from the fifty slowly rotating missile ships. At their present rate of fire, they could sustain this for twenty-two minutes before depleting their magazines. At that point they’d fall back astern of the main fleet for better protection, and be out of the way for the close-in fighting. Better than seventy-five percent of the units launched carried nukes; the rest, decoy ECM and ECCM missiles. Slowly, it seemed, the clock counted down the last few seconds.

“Impact, Admiral!” Jenny Belkin reported. The board showed multiple hits, but whether on the ships themselves or just their shields it was impossible to tell.

“Here they come, skipper,” Akari announced as the first wave of alien missiles reached them. It surprised Scott to learn that his missiles were faster than the aliens’ were. What good that would do in an actual battle, he didn’t know.

“For what we are about to receive …” Scott muttered. A few people heard him over the comm system; one or two newcomers looking over their shoulders at him, not understanding. The old timers just smiled and said “Amen” or “Semper Fi.”

Then his ship was under sustained attack. The space around the ship lit up with crisscrossing beams of plasma energy as the point defense system opened up. Now it was up to them to take the brunt of the punishment and protect his ship. The laser beam that reached out to slice into the enemy missiles and fighters was invisible to the naked eye in space, but it did show up on the screens of the point defense gunners.

“Action Stations!” the intercom blared. “Enemy fleet exiting the warp point.” For a moment everyone froze, caught between simulation and reality. “This is not a drill. I say again. This is not a drill. Action stations!” was immediately followed by the recorded call of the
“beat to quarters
” drummer.

“Lady Gray! End simulation on all ships and come to battle stations.”

“
Yes, Admiral. Orders transmitted to all ships.
”

“Estimated time of arrival in Earth orbit?”

“
At their present course and speed, nine hours and fourteen minutes, Admiral.
”

“Course and speed to intercept.”

“
Working!
”

“Relay to the helm the moment you have it, Nav.”

“
Yes, my Captain
.”

It was almost like a sim, as they all went about their duties with a cool efficiency. By now they’d been through so many drills, much of the initial nervousness had vanished.

“All standby crews at battle stations, Admiral,” operations announced.

“Good work, Ops,” he said, eyeing the clock. This time they’d beaten their own record. He was betting Alpha base was in an uproar, with people charging into the ring gate from all over the compound.

“Two additional contacts, Admiral.” The words sent a chill up Scott’s spine and his head snapped around to look at the battle board.

“Son of a …” he muttered. He didn’t need anyone to tell him they were in deep shit.

“Both contacts confirmed,” Jenny Balkan reported. “We have two additional battle groups coming at us. One from solar north, the other from solar east.”

The light from the exploding nuclear mines wouldn’t reach them for several seconds, but they could see the results from the stern sensors on the retreating battle group. The mines did their deadly work, cutting a swath of destruction through the lesser elements of the alien fleet. The solar north group had only touched the outer edge of the minefield, and suffered relatively minor damage. The group exiting into Earth space from the east had blundered dead center into the mines. At first, a cheer went up as unit after enemy unit vanished in a silent fireball. They fell silent as more and more ships emerged into solar space.

“Shit!” Scott muttered. “The two northern battle groups are a diversion, damn it!” This was one scenario no one had thought of. There was no way they could stop all three battle groups, one of them targeted at Earth. He said, “Message Alpha base and put them on alert. All Earth defense forces should expect a major alien incursion within twelve to eighteen hours. Admiral Commanding.”

“
Aye, aye, sir
,” Lady Gray answered.

“Make to all ships! Fall back immediately to point ‘T’ for tango.” Scott pushed the fear to the back of his mind. He didn’t have time for it now. “Tactical!”

“Aye, sir,” Ruth MacFarland answered.

“I want all gunships on close formation behind me as soon as possible. The rest of the fleet is to form into attack pattern ‘Omega’ and interlock shields.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” The young woman couldn’t keep the nervousness out of her voice, and for good reason. She was one of the freshly minted young officers from Scotland, and up until now, all combat had been theoretical or simulated. Now it was the real thing and she was scared. The number of enemy ships heading toward them was overwhelming.

This was what Scott had feared. The lizards had finally sent a fleet to wipe out Earth while two of their fleets held him at bay. What they hadn’t expected was to see two fleets, one smaller then the other. One heading toward the major fleet, the other heading toward Earth. Scott took a slow, careful breath, thinking of Kat and his infant son. If he failed now, there was no future for them or anyone else on this planet. This was what five million years of evolution came down to. This one moment when they found out if they had what it took to win, or if there would be no more human race. He’d failed once to protect his wife and children, he wasn’t about to make the same mistake again.

“Lady Gray!”

“
Yes, my captain?
”

“Connect and lock onto all communication satellites. Override all Earth channels and feed as much of the upcoming battle as you can after it starts. I want all those ass … people,” he amended, “to see what war and sacrifice is all about.” He sat back and watched the battle board as the fleet formed up around him.

“
Aye, my captain. Locking on to all communications satellites and preparing to transmit data.
”

Depending on how you looked at it, his positions were good. His fleet would be formed and ready long before the alien fleets arrived. As each element took up position, the battle board updated with their sensor readings, gradually filling in the small gaps and fuzzy areas. The results were relayed back so each unit had as clear a picture of the surrounding space as it was possible to get.

“Tactical! Stand down from battle stations to yellow alert. We don’t want people to get too excited, or worn out before the dance starts.”

“Aye, aye, sir. Transmitting condition ‘Yellow’.”

“Okay people, relax, get a meal or a shower. We have at least six hours before they reach our missile envelope.” He felt rather than saw the bridge crew relax and heave a collective sigh of relief. “Where’s the coffee?” he asked, looking around for Harkins.

“Right here, sir.” As if by magic, Harkins materialized beside him with a full tray of drinking bulbs. Scott took one and nodded to him, whereupon Harkins walked around the bridge and passed out the remaining bulbs. A few looked over their shoulder, but seeing the old man drinking, they gratefully accepted, murmuring their thanks.

“How can he be so calm? Drinking coffee at a time like this?” a newbie standing hatch guard asked Sergeant Hernandez. The older marine smiled tightly.

“Son, he’s as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, and just as nervous as you and me. He just doesn’t let it get to him, bro.”

“You, nervous?” It sounded like an oxymoron. Sergeant Hernandez was one of the
immortals
, the ones who’d gone over the border with the admiral and avenged the attack on the country called America. How could he, or any of them, especially the admiral, be afraid of anything? And he said so.

Hernandez just smiled, thinking back to his first furball. He’d been as scared as this young man was now, and if he remembered right, although he’d never admit it, he’d pissed his pants. It didn’t matter how many times you went into combat, each time was the same. You were scared, ready to piss in your pants, but that didn’t stop you from doing what you knew had to be done.

“Did they teach you what a soldier is, Moe?” His name was Mohammed, but everyone called him Moe for short, and possibly not to be reminded of the past.

“Um … I guess so, Sergeant.”

“I doubt it.”

“So, what is a soldier, Sergeant?”

“The definition of a soldier is a person who can do simple mechanical actions while in a flat panic,” he answered, giving the young man a lopsided smile. Moe looked at him a moment, thinking about what he’d just said. It was a lot different from what they’d told him in boot camp, but in the end, he understood what the sergeant meant.

“Flag, country, family, don’t mean a damn thing once it starts. All you have to worry about is killing the other guy before he kills you. You remember that, and you’ll be okay.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“Priority call coming in from the president, sir.”

“Put him through,” Scott said. It was an inconvenient time, but not unexpected.

“Drake! This is the President of the United World Council.” The chubby pink face of Director Skinner wavered into existence on the main screen, now more red than pink. “I’m ordering you to pull back and return to Earth immediately! And how dare you usurp our communication channels.”

“Oh shit! Here we go again,” Scott heard Sergeant Hernandez growl from across the battle bridge.

“Since when have you been the president, and where is Westwood?”

“That is none of your concern,” Skinner sneered, “but since you asked, Westwood has been deposed by unanimous vote of the council, and I am the new president.” He puffed himself up, trying to look imposing. It only made him look even more stupid than he was already. If it wasn’t so sad it would have been funny, but there was nothing to laugh at here.

“Skinner, you pathetic idiot!” Scott held onto his temper with difficulty, biting out his words. “You’ve been set up, you clown.”

“I am the president, and you will do what I say—”

“Bite me, dog breath.”

“What?” Skinner spluttered in outrage. “Are you refusing to do what I order?” He blinked in surprise, as if the idea of Scott refusing had never crossed his mind.

“You do know that three alien fleets are heading toward Earth with the intention of wiping out humanity, don’t you?”

“Of course I know our friends from the stars are on their way. They are here to restore order and to destroy you if you refuse to comply with my orders.”

“You have to be pulling my chain!” Now it was Scott’s turn to look surprised.

“I have been assured that we are in contact with the leader of the task force, and he has assured me that no harm will come to this planet, if you return to Earth and hand over your ships.” Skinner made it sound as if he actually believed it himself.

“And why would he promise that?”

“I … we … the council that is, has come to an agreement with the aliens. They are now willing to compensate us for the resources they have already taken, and will reimburse us in the future.”

“Skinner, you can thank whatever god you believe in, if you do, that you are on Earth, and I am out here preparing to go into battle and kick ass.”

“Oh, why is that, infidel?” Skinner gave what looked like a parody of a smile, his fat wet, blubbery pink lips opened to reveal little baby teeth as he preened himself.

“Because if I were there, I’d finish what I started in your office the first time we met.”

The smile slipped, and Skinner reached up to touch his face as he remembered.

“That’s right asshole. I’d take great pleasure in slowly beating you to death.” Skinner turned bright red, holding up a pink and gold shawl to cover his mouth. His hand shook and he looked as if he was on the verge of crying.

“Lady Gray! Cut the damn connection,” Scott snarled, swinging his chair around so he wouldn’t have to look at the screen, or at Skinner anymore. Scott resisted the urge to hurl the drinking bulb against the screen, growling softly under his breath.

“Number One!”

“Yes, Admiral,” Akari answered.

“Would you please remind me after the battle to go down and strangle the living shit out of President Skinner and the rest of the World Council?”

“Aye, Aye Admiral.” She gave Scott a shark-grin smile. “Can you at least leave a few for the rest of us?” Scott shot her a look, seeing the rest of the bridge crew nodding. Other than his XO, the bridge crew were all “new guys,” but any resemblance to them, and their former lives, was pure coincidence.

Scott nodded. “I will indeed leave a few. Don’t want to hog all the fun myself.” He smiled in return. “Are we ready, Number One?”

“Aye, Admiral that we are,” she growled with fire in his eyes.

“Tactical! Where are we?”

“The alien fleet will be in the extreme missile range within one hour, skipper. All Terran Defense Force ships are now in formation and awaiting your orders,” she replied in a clear, crisp voice, all traces of nervousness gone. Hernandez saw his fellow marine stand a little straighter inside his battle suit, and smiled as he did the same. Now they were ready.

“Comm. Make to all ships. Begin counter-rotating, spin.”

“
Aye, aye, sir,
” Lady Gray answered. “
Priority message coming in from Devon Hawking, sir.
”

“Put him through.”

“Scott, sorry to interrupt, but I thought you’d like a quick update.”

“No problem at all, Devon. The dance won’t start for another hour yet.”

“Good. I wanted to tell you that we have topped off all your ships’ magazines, and all the remote sites are at full capacity.”

“Great. We’ll be expending a lot of munitions in the near future.”

“No problem. We’re standing by to push out missiles through the rings as fast as we can.” That was good to hear, and hopefully would come as a complete surprise to the enemy.

“By the way, Devon. Put your security on high alert. I just got a call from the new President of the World Council, Director Skinner by the way. He ordered me to stand down, since according to him, they have come to an agreement with the aliens.”

“What! Agreement? What sort of agreement?” Devon spluttered, looking outraged.

“The aliens are now willing to compensate Earth for the quote, ‘resources’ they’re taking.”

“Of all the stupid, lame brained, imbecilic, moronic …” Devon stopped. “Don’t they realize that the aliens are here to wipe us out?”

“They’d believe whatever they want, right up to the moment some lizard slits their collective throats. However, if those traitors on the council who’ve been sabotaging our efforts and trying to kill us have anything up their sleeves, this is the opportune moment for them to use it.”

“Christ! All we need is some diehard fanatic to slip a bomb in here and the crap will hit the fan!” he snapped. “By the way, you’ve been down this road before if memory serves me correct. What did you tell the president this time?”

“The same as I did last time. I’m going to kick ass, then come down there and kick the shit out of him.” Devon laughed.

“Tell security to go on high alert. If they see, or just plain think they see anything out of the ordinary, they’re to shoot first and ask questions later.”

“Christ yes! I’ll do that right now. Take care …” And he was gone.

“Get me Colonel Brock.”

“Brock here! Oh, hi Scott. What’s up?” Even as he spoke Scott could see him talking to three others.

“Heads up, Gunny. Skinner just called to say he’s the new President of the World Council. I’m expecting some sabotage to start happening.” It took Gunny Brock all of two seconds to absorb the information before he started calling security. “I’m on it, Scott. Anything else?” Brock scowled at the screen a moment.

“Not right now. I have a battle to fight. I’m expecting half that fleet to head straight for Earth.”

Brock grinned, hearing that. “Oh good. I get to kick some ass as well.”

“You could be right. We’ll tie up as many of them as we can, but some are bound to get through.”

“Don’t sweat it. And don’t send any units to help us. From the look of it you need every ship you have, and then some to win this.” Scott could see the worry on his face, even if he didn’t voice it. “I have all Earth defenses on high alert. City shields are at max, and all missile batteries here and on the moon are loaded and ready to fire on your command.”

“Good. How many reloads do you have?”

“Plenty. Manufacturing has been churning them out continuously, twenty-four/seven, for months.”

“Been a busy little beaver, haven’t you, Gunny.”

“Well someone has to. Not all of us can sit around all day looking pretty in their shiny new toys.” He laughed, but it sounded hollow. Scott knew damn well Gunny Brock wanted nothing more than to be standing right beside him when they went into battle. That’s where he thought he belonged, but he’d never say so.