The Synchronicity War Part 4 (2 page)

There were 66 x-ray laser drones in orbit
in 6 clusters of 11 each. Each cluster was evenly spaced out from the rest, for
the same reason as the fighters and ships. The two clusters closest to the enemy
fleet could aim accurately more quickly than the rest, while the two clusters
furthest away had to take the most time to aim accurately. So that's what
Iceman ordered them to do. The two nearest clusters would fire after five
seconds, two more after ten seconds and the last two clusters after fifteen
seconds. With more time to aim accurately, each of the drone's eight rods would
be pointed at a different target. There would be a total of 528 shots versus
225 targets. The first pair of clusters concentrated their fire on 88 targets.

Shiloh had just finished asking his
question when the Assistant Weapons Officer yelled out, "We're firing on
their ships!" Dreadnought started to maneuver, too. Not as violently as a
light carrier would have but still violently enough to feel it. The tactical
display was zooming in now, and Shiloh could see the mass of blue dots
representing the bio-devices gradually separating from the large cluster of red
dots and heading in a curving line towards the planet. There were over 2200
bio-devices. Shiloh was about to yell at Iceman again when the display
indicated that two clusters of x-ray drones had fired. Seventy-three of the red
dots flashed and turned orange, meaning they had taken damage. "Four
targets damaged! We're shifting to new targets!" said the AWO.

"We're taking hits on the hull!
Penetration of the hull in two places!" yelled the Engineering Officer.

Shiloh needed to know why they weren't
following the targeting plan. Iceman wasn't answering, probably because he was
too busy. "Valkyrie, what's happening?" asked Shiloh.

He heard her reply via his implant.
"These enemy ships can't jump away for a while, so they're going to keep
firing on our units until we have nothing left to shoot back with. The
bio-devices will have to wait until we've neutralized their fleet, CAG. Now
don't bother me. I've got a ship to fight."

"Four more targets damaged! Shifting
targeting again!" yelled the AWO.

"We're starting to take damage! Two
turrets out of action. Minor damage from hull penetrations!"

The display pinged again. Two more x-ray
drone clusters had fired, and 70 more enemy ships were damaged. Shiloh was
aware that damaged didn't necessarily mean they couldn't fire their lasers. 
More and more of the red dots were turning orange and were falling behind the
rest as the enemy fleet accelerated to make return fire more difficult. In
fact, over half of them were now falling behind. Lack of maneuverability could
indicate lack of power, which would prevent them from firing again, too. If
Iceman was ordering the x-ray drones to aim for the part of the target most
likely to contain their power plant, then that would effectively cripple the
ship with one blow. He focused his attention on the clusters of fighters and
was shocked at how small the fighter groups nearest the enemy now were. One
group was almost completely gone. Another had less than six left. Groups
further away were faring better, but they were taking losses too.

"Three more turrets knocked out! We're
getting major hull penetr--"

The EO's report was cut off by the loud shriek
of tortured metal and a brilliant flash of light. Part of the ceiling fell,
with a piece hitting a glancing blow to the right side of Shiloh's head. The
Engineering Station was now on fire, and the EO was looking at what was left of
his right arm with a stunned expression. The automatic fire suppression system
was taking care of the fire, and the EO had slumped to the deck holding the end
of his right arm with his left hand. No one could help him right now. He would
have to hang on until the battle was over.

Shiloh glanced back at the display just in
time to see the last two clusters of x-ray drones fire. Sixty-five hits. A
quick visual estimation of the number of red dots remaining looked like a dozen
or so.

"Three more targets damaged!
Retargeting!" The AWO's voice was getting hoarse now. He was having
trouble keeping up with Valkyrie's fire control. The number of red dots was
shrinking fast now that all of the defending ships and fighters were
concentrating all their fire on them. Speaking of ships, he looked at the
status of the carriers. All had taken damage. Valiant and Intrepid were no
longer maneuvering or firing. That was bad. Resolute was maneuvering but not
firing. Vigilant was firing but not maneuvering. Midway was still doing both,
as was Dreadnought.

"We're switching fire to the
bios!" yelled the AWO.

It's about time
, thought Shiloh. He watched the total number of bio-devices still
intact start to drop fast, but was it fast enough? The blue dots were getting
closer to Earth, and there were still a lot of them. He held his breath, as the
blue cluster got smaller but closer at the same time. The total remaining were
now less than 1,000, but they were getting very close. The total was dropping
faster as the fighter groups furthest away got closer and therefore had better
firing accuracy. He felt a chill go up his spine as over 100 devices hit the
edge of Earth's atmosphere, but then he realized that they were still being
fired on. The upper atmosphere was too thin to protect them against laser fire,
but they were dropping lower into the atmosphere fast. After the total
remaining hit 7, there were no further changes.

The AWO spoke, "We've stopped firing!
All units have stopped firing!"

"Get me the CSO!" shouted Shiloh
to no one in particular. As he said that, he unbuckled himself and stood up.
Howard's face appeared on the display, just as Shiloh remembered it in his
vision. Shiloh took a deep breath and said, "Some of them got through and
are in Earth's atmosphere now, Admiral! It looks like they're headed for the
urban areas. We have to assume that they'll release a bio-weapon."

"There's still a chance of
containment. What cities are being targeted?" asked Howard. Shiloh looked
at the map now appearing in the display and the list of city names on the
sidebar. He read off the seven names. Howard nodded.

"Exactly as predicted. Don't blame
yourself, Shiloh. I know you gave it your best shot even though we knew this
would happen. If containment fails, then we just have to hope that we started
work on Blackjack's idea in time. You better get that wound looked after. It's
bleeding like hell."

Shiloh didn't know what Howard was talking
about until he realized that the right side of his face felt wet. He touched it
with his hand and when he pulled his hand back it was covered with blood. Son
of a bitch! He was injured and hadn't even realized it in the heat of battle.

"I'll have it looked after, Sir.
Iceman can handle the mopping up, although I don't see how we'll be able to
take prisoners from the crippled ships. Their momentum will carry them into
deep space before we can send shuttles after--"

Howard interrupted him. "I don't give
a damn if we get any prisoners or not. We can't even communicate with them,
yet. You let me worry about that. You and Iceman take care of your own dead and
wounded. Tell your people for me that they did well, Admiral. Howard
clear."

While Shiloh wondered what he could do to
stem the bleeding, one of the Flag Bridge crew handed him a white piece of
cloth and said, "Medical team is on their way here to look at the EO.
They'll have something more appropriate for your wound, Sir." Shiloh
thanked him and looked at the Engineering Officer. Two other personnel were
kneeling beside him trying to prevent the stump of his arm from bleeding too
much.

With the cloth pressed against his head
wound, which was now starting to hurt like hell, Shiloh turned back to the
display. He wondered if the battle was really over or if there was another enemy
fleet on the verge of jumping in.

"Iceman, keep everyone at Battle
Stations," he said. No answer.

"Iceman! Can you hear me?"

"Valkyrie to CAG. Iceman is gone. So
is Casanova, CAG. The Main Bridge was hit at the same time as the Flag Bridge.
The beam cut through both of the other two AI stations. Titan has assumed
temporary tactical command. I've passed on your order regarding Battle
Stations."

Shiloh was stunned. Iceman gone?  And
Casanova too! Oh God, poor Valkyrie!

"Valkyrie, I'm so sorry to hear about
Casanova. Are you okay?"

"I'm undamaged, CAG. Thank you for
your condolences. Will you be wanting an update on Dreadnought's status
now?"

Shiloh shook his head in wonderment at her
ability to focus back to her duties so quickly. "By all means,
Commander."

"Dreadnought still has full power and
maneuverability. Seven laser turrets out of action. Explosive decompression in
five compartments. Two fatalities reported so far. Twelve injured including
your EO and yourself. Minor damage to life support systems, but nothing critical.
Compared to the carriers, we got off pretty easy, CAG, but they vaporized a lot
of her armor. I don't think she could survive another fight like this in the
state she's in now."

"Understood. Do you want another AI to
relieve you?"

"Not until we're sure the battle is
over and my crew are taken care of, CAG, but thanks for the offer. I'll grieve
for Casanova later. Right now I'm still needed here."

Shiloh heard one of the crew say, "The
medics are here!"

He turned to see three medical personnel
come through the hatch. They saw him and started towards him. He pointed to the
wounded EO and said, "Him first." As they rushed over to the injured
officer, Shiloh heard the tactical display ping for attention.
Oh God! Now
what?
He looked at it and couldn't immediately see any change, but it soon
became obvious that the damaged and crippled enemy ships were blowing
themselves up.
Well that takes care of the prisoner issue.

With the relief that it wasn't another
attack, came a wave of lightheadedness.
Probably from blood loss and
adrenaline fatigue,
he thought. He carefully sat down. One of the medics
noticed, came over, and started to work on his head wound. Shiloh started to
say something and then noticed that the room seemed to get darker.
What the
hell is wrong with the lights?
His consciousness then fell into the abyss
of blackness.

                                                     
* * *

Benjamin Levinson woke to the sound of the
sirens. He concluded that they must be pretty loud sirens to be heard all the
way down here. He'd been living in this abandoned maintenance shaft for over a
year now, and he was pretty happy with it. He had running water, a more or less
constant temperature, and even the electricity to run his electronics. His
enemies wouldn't find him down here, and he'd be damned if he was going to
leave the city. His enemies would find him then for sure. He laughed at the
prognosis of the psychiatrists at the clinic. Severe paranoia? Ha!  What did
they know? Even paranoid people had enemies, and he had lots of them. Besides,
with 99.9% of everyone else gone, he might be able to scrounge some pretty good
stuff for his hideaway here. He decided to go up and look around.

The streets were completely empty. The
sirens were still blaring, and it was obvious now why he had heard them. Every
siren in the city must be going off. Something was happening, but what? He
looked up between the canyons of tall buildings and saw a fiery streak,
followed by the sound of some sort of collision. A few steps brought him to the
street corner just in time to see something metallic bounce off the building
down the street and hit the ground. He rushed over to it. There was smoke
coming from it, and he could hear the pinging sound that hot metal makes when
it cools down rapidly. It looked like a broken bottle, only made of metal
instead of glass or plastic. There seemed to be a small green light inside.
Levinson looked around to make sure none of those weird guys in their yellow
hazard suits were around, and then he tried to pick up the object. He dropped
it and cursed out loud. He should have realized it would be too hot to handle
with bare hands. Looking around, he spotted a section of newspaper being blown
by the wind. He snagged it and folded it until it was thick enough to provide
some protection. He then used the newspaper to pick up the...whatever it was
and examined it closely. The inside looked pretty complicated, but there was a
green light for sure. He sniffed. Well, what do'ya know! The damn thing even
smelled good. A sweet smell. He inhaled deeply. The only thing wrong with
living underground was the smell. If this thing wasn't good for anything else,
it might at least make his cubbyhole smell nicer. He carried it back with a
smile on his face.