The Battle for the Ringed Planet (41 page)

“Yes, and took the shield down…” they both turned to see Tass with his arms folded.

Then he pulled her close and she whispered, “I was so scared for you … watching and feeling so helpless.”

“Tristan always wanted to do that manoeuvre, but he said I was the one who could probably pull it off.”

“Oh Torian, is it over then? Are they going to send you out again?”

“I have two days left on my tour, so no, they’ll put me on desk duties and then when we rendezvous with a base, discharge me,” he glared at Tass.

“What was so important for that fighter to want to kill you?”

“We found the Immortal Fleet. Now we can ready earth, there are only so many tunnel points and range it can go. I imagine this fleet will be heading to earth.”

“But not you?”

“No, Siiri, I’m going to Kanata …” he stared at hard at Tass, “and I’m taking you with me.”

Then the agent stepped forward, “Not so fast, McCallum, she’s under SIS care.”

“She aided in the battle for Kaarina, she’s a war hero!”

“I’ll be taking her to a secure facility on earth.”

He narrowed his eyes, “There will be holos on the battle for this planet, and I’ll tell the press all about Siiri, and that you’re holding her!”

“Don’t fight me, McCallum …”

“And her people, a thousand of them!”

Just then there was a commotion outside the sick bay and both Torian and Siiri turned to see the CAG, with an unlit cigar in his mouth, followed by Dekker, Monica, Mark Senzo, Nathan Johnston, and a dozen other officers, mostly Starhawk pilots back from their missions.

“Lieutenant McCallum?” the CAG pulled his cigar out of his mouth, “You’re late!”

Swallowing, Torian stammered, “I … uh …”

“First this …” he held up a metal with diagonally blue and white stripes and a cross of old style airplane propellers, “Hawkeye crews share their kills, and according to your records and the holo log from the Krallas system, you just made your five … ace!” He stuck the medal on Torian’s chest with a few cheers from the others, and then pulled out his Con. 

“Now, Lieutenant, I have to read this …” he flipped on the holo from the black device, “According to regulations I have to inform you that you are invited to a ritual that may involve embarrassment and or humiliation, and are not honour bound in any way or form to participate …” then he paused, “… but there’s real beer involved …”

“I’m in.” Torian replied without hesitation.

“Good. Gentlemen and ladies … grab him!”

The pilots surrounded Torian and hauled him by the arms while others secured his legs and began to lift him down the tunnel-like corridor. The CAG turned to Siiri, “You’re welcome to attend, Ma’am,” she grinned and followed the gaggle hauling a protesting worried Torian away.

“Wait!” Tass protested but Siiri dashed off and slid the double doors closed behind her. 

“Where are you taking him?” she called after the CAG who helped grab Torian’s kicking feet as they pulled him up a ladder.

“Officer’s mess. We have a surprise for him.”

Winding around the steel tube as personnel hugged the curved walls letting the group of cheering officers round corners until they reached a double door with a sign ‘Moonlight Mile’. Entering, they dumped Torian unceremoniously on the floor next to a large open plastic alloy supply crate filled with water.

The CAG then stood in front of the young officer who brushed off his flight suit and rose to his feet, “Lieutenant Torian Liam McCallum …”

“No. not my middle name …” he groaned and glanced at Siiri who bore a wide grin.

“It is my honour on this occasion, and believe me, this doesn’t happen often, granted permission from Admiral Martin Bennion, to award you these wings and declare you worthy to fly as pilot in the 4
^th
fleet. Congratulations, son!” he presented Torian with silver wings that he pressed onto his flight suit. Then he shook his hand.

“Now, as you other pilots are aware, upon graduation from flight school, they receive their baptism. We have hastily provided a suitable crate of water. Pilots and officers, strip him!”

“No! Wait … where’s the beer?” hands began to pull off his boots and unfasten his flight suit.

“Oh, it’s coming!” the CAG chewed his cigar.

Clinging desperately to his jockey shorts having lost his T-shirt, the other officers hauled him high up into the air and then dumped him into the supply crate full of water. Then they pushed him completely under until his head rose up gasping for air.

“Would you like the honours, young lady?” the CAG handed Siiri an open bottle of beer, “Take a drink first, and then pour it on him.” She did just that and when the beer bubbled on his hair and head a loud cheer went up and more beer poured all over the new half naked pilot.

-- 

“What is that racket in the officer’s mess?” Martin glanced suspiciously at Lars who had been a fighter pilot in his earlier years. The mess was located a couple levels below the bridge.

“Not sure Admiral, you know pilots.”

“I know them too well, so there better not be any alcohol involved.”

“I’m sure if there was the Admiral would dump his XO out the airlock.”

“Or bust him down to hangar crew …” then he glanced at some floating reports over his consul near his comfortable high backed command chair, “speaking of which, let’s get the crews to unpack those extra Starhawks, I know they were for the fleet, but since we’ve lost Charlie flight, might as well get them out of the crates.” Lars nodded to Sergeant Thomas Mal.

They both glanced out the large rectangular transteel windows at the Titan, glowing a little less red than before, and Lars read a floating document from his Con, “Colonel Trilling reports that they have secured the space port, but resistance is still strong north of the city.”

“All right, we’ll grant Captain Chen his wish, now that he’s contained the engine fire. Have him prep for a landing and repairs. His own squadron of Starhawks can escort him down”

“He’ll be happy to hear that, Admiral.” Lars grinned.

--

Siiri pulled Torian’s hand as he clung to his T-shirt and flight suit almost tripping trying to pull on his boots looking ridiculous in only his shorts, “Where is it?” She glanced back giggling.

“That way,” he pointed to a branch of corridor at a cross section and they raced passed several metal doors until they reached one with the right number. He held his hand over a small square scanner and it read his DNA sliding open the heavy metal door.

“Who is your roommate?” she glimpsed at the other bed opposite the messy one she figured was his.

“Monica, the cute redhead consuming copious amounts of alcoholic beverage.”

“What? You get a girl to share your room? How come it was girls only at the marine base?”

“That’s because fleet is civilized.” he began to lay out his flight suit, complete with new shiny wings, on his unmade bed. Then he began to pull on his navy T-shirt. But she smiled coyly and stepped up against him peering up into his brown eyes.

“How much time do we have?” she whispered close to his ear.

“Depends how long your spy takes to find my quarters.” Torian whispered back, then louder, “Room 214 … lock door.” They both heard a distinctive click. She began to pull off his navy T-shirt and gently kissed his chest.

“I smell like a brewery,” he caressed her cheek when she raised her deep blue eyes gazing into his.

“Just like the time I helped you into bed at home.”

“Seems like a lifetime ago.”

Siiri wrapped her arms around his neck, “I have something to tell you.” She inched closer and squeezed against the tall pilot.

“I’m going to get you out of here and to Kanata.”

“Torian, I love you,” she pulled him down and locked her lips on his and he encircled his arms around her waist.

“Torian …” she exhaled hotly between kisses, “… the rings …”

Parting momentarily, he peered into her eyes, “Yeah …”

“The rings … that’s where they live.”

He frowned, and then stopped kissing her, “What do you mean?”

“The transporters … Kayla’s people, they died inside crystal chambers that absorbed their entities, and were shot into space … inside the rings ... in the crystals.”

“I don’t understand …”

“They’re trapped. Her people thought that they could somehow transcend into another existence after death. But it didn’t work. There are millions of souls trapped in the ring.”

Torian put his hands on her shoulders, “You mean, all those tubular towers in the alien city launched them into the rings? All those colourful crystals …”

“…contain the life essences of an alien race.”

The young man swallowed, “How long have they been there?”

She shook her head.

“Wow …” he looked pensive, “… and the people of Kaarina knew this?”

“Maybe not. They used the power from the tubes as an amplifier for their own experiments, but I don’t think they knew about the crystals in the rings.”

“How did you … no, never mind ...” then Torian looked away then glanced into Siiri’s pretty eyes, “We could use that knowledge.”

“How?”

“To secure your citizenship and freedom.”

“Really? Would that work?”

“Do you still want to be with me?”

“You know I do, Torian, that’s all I want. I have never loved any man like I love you.”

Suddenly the room went dark save only for red lights flashing and a horn like sound blasted. Torian turned away from Siiri quickly and reached for his T-shirt she had tossed on the floor.

“What the Hell is that?” she angrily glared at him in the dim red light.

“General Quarters, something is up!” the tall pilot slipped on his flight suit.

“No!” Siiri reached for him, “I thought all of that was over!”

The speakers blared, “All Starhawk and Hawkeye pilots report to the briefing room. All gunners to battle stations!”

“Torian!” she clasped his arm, “You’re finished now!”

Turning to her, he pulled her close, “It’s probably a lost fighter or a probe, I’ll be back.” He sat down on the bed and pulled on his boots, and when they were on tight he grabbed his utility belt and Con, and then gently kissed her on the cheek. But when he opened the sliding door Agent Kavan Tass stood waiting.

“What a surprise,” Torian grumbled.

“I gave you a few minutes, if all you did was talk, that’s not my problem,” he smirked.

“What’s going on?” the pilot stormed passed him into the corridor.

“I haven’t a clue, but she needs to come with me.”

Turning to the pretty blonde haired girl, he gestured to Tass, “The safest area of the cruiser is in Sick Bay, go with him for now.”

“All right, Torian. Remember what I said.” She swiftly walked by him and the agent, glancing back sadly as the pilot watched.

--

Admiral Bennion marched onto the bridge rubbing his eyes, having just gone down to his quarters for a much needed rest to be awakened by the alarm for battle stations, “What do you have, Lars?” He adjusted a button on his tunic.

The XO glanced at Sergeant Mal who peered up from his holo, “Multiple tunnel activity, on the dark side of the fifth moon, no space craft in view yet.”

Lars added, “All pilots reporting in and the Hyperion has the CAP.”

“Where is the Titan?”

“Still in orbit with her squadron deployed.”

“Order her back to fleet.”

“Sir, shall we send in the CAP to investigate the moon?”

Still buttoning his lapel Martin studied the holo on Sergeant Mal’s consul, “No, keep them back. We may have inbound enemy cruisers. No other vessels are scheduled for rendezvous.”

“I’ve got a scan on a large vessel rounding the moon …” Sergeant Mal began, “Wait, another … two more … battle cruisers ...” then he stared without a word.

“Thomas?” Lars marched over and joined Martin watching the holo. The three dimensional display now showed more than a dozen large cylindrical objects with guns protruding like spikes. Text tags followed each object with the name and class of each cruiser. But after the first cruiser was identified, it didn’t really matter any more.

Gasping, Lars stared out the large transteel window, “The Immortal Fleet!” 

Chapter 29: Immortal Death

  After the initial shock Admiral Bennion began to move with purpose to each consul on the bridge barking orders methodically, “I want a listing of all the battle cruiser classes, gun ranges, and fighter compliments!”

Sergeant Thomas Mal replied, “Coming in, matching the data provided by Hawkeye 221, 16 Emperor class, former Victorian class battle cruisers, a broadside of 9 guns, 60 klick range, each has 16 Solvair fighters.”

“And the others?”

“A mismatch, sir, 4 Scimitar class battle cruisers, no fighters, a broadside of 8 guns, 50 klicks … 4 old Sultan class cruisers, no fighters, 6 guns at 50 klicks, and one modern Sword class cruiser with 16 fighters and 9 guns at 80 klicks.”

Stepping over next to the admiral Lars added, “Our God of War class main gun has a range of 100 klicks, and of course the Moon class is almost identical to the Imperium sword class cruiser.”

But Martin turned quickly to Lars, “We’re not going to fight them. Thomas, open a channel to the fleet commanders. Lars, we’re going to tunnel out before they get to us …”

“But the ground troops! And the Titan doesn’t have her tunnel drive!”

“I am well aware, but I have to preserve the fleet. We need to buy time so that the cruisers can do their calculations for the tunnel drives, so we’re going to send out a fighter screen.”

“They have over 250 fighters, and we have less than 100.”

“I know Lars … Rhonda!” He turned his attention to the female specialist, “Inform the CAG I want all Hawkeye pilots on Starhawks, we have extra fighters. Relay my orders to all fleet CAG’s except for the Yamato, have all her Hawkeyes sent to the nearest base, warn them about the Immortal Fleet.”

  --

Torian took his seat in the briefing room beside Monica whose blood shot eyes watched him while drinking black coffee, her long red hair free flowing down her shoulders.