Theogony 3: Terra Stands Alone (37 page)

“
Destruction of Olympos,
are we not going to follow them into battle?
” asked the captain of the battlecruiser
Death Blow
. The Drakul formation was based on all of the ships keeping station on the dreadnought; when the
Destruction of Olympos
had flipped and started slowing after the
Spurting Blood
made the transit to the new system, all of the other ships were forced to flip and slow down in order to keep their spacing. Unprepared for the dreadnought’s maneuver, the
Death Blow
was unable to stop in time and passed the dreadnought, changing their order of entrance into the next system.

“
We will follow them momentarily,
” replied the captain of the
Destruction of Olympos
. “
My orders from the Overlord are to ensure that Admiral Bullig does his part for the empire.
”

In other words, thought the captain of the
Death Blow
, he is to die after personally absorbing as much of the system’s defenses as possible. That’s fine, he thought. It leaves fewer missiles for us.

After
15 minutes of waiting, the captain of the
Destruction of Olympos
finally announced, “
All units, advance!
” The dreadnought resumed its course toward the stargate, along with the rest of the ships in the fleet.

“1
0 seconds to transit,” noted the
Death Blow’s
helmsman. “Five...four...”

“Gate activation!” called the defender. “Multiple activations from the gate behind us
...”

The
Death Blow
transited.

“
It appears that we are too late,” said Grand Admiral Michael from the view screen. “The Drakul attack on thy system has already commenced. For all we know, it may already be over. Our time would be better served by proceeding to the Drakul home world while their fleet is occupied with thy system.”

“It may
not
be too late if we hurry,” Captain Sheppard said. The last Drakul battleship winked out on the tactical plot as it made the jump to the Solar System. They were too late. He shook his head. Damn it, no,
they were not going to be too late
. Not on his watch. He had
not
flown thousands of light years to get back too late. If nothing else, he’d run that last battleship down and shove the
Vella Gulf
straight up its ass. He looked down at the helmsman. “Helm, flank speed. Give me everything it’s got!” He looked back up to the view screen. “With you or without you,” Captain Sheppard said, “my home world is being invaded, and I intend to do everything I can to save it. The defenses may still be holding. Hopefully, you’ll honor our agreement and follow us. If not,
I’ll see you in hell!
” He pushed the button that ended the transmission. “Please be holding,” he begged under his breath.

“Their transmission ended,” noted the communications officer.

“Shall I proceed toward Drakon?” asked the helmsman.

“No,” said Grand Admiral Michael. “They
honored their word to us and helped save our system; we wouldn’t even be here without their help. If there is any way to assist them in their hour of need, we owe it to them to do so.” He switched to the battle group’s communication network. “
All ships, follow the Terran ship. Flank speed!
”

* * * * *

Between the mines, the box launchers and the fire from the
Terran ships, the Drakul ships were finished, thought Captain Griffin. Two of the cruisers had interpenetrated on arrival. What was left of them wasn’t pretty. Four of the cruisers were floating hulks, victims of the Terran minefield. One more had intercepted a volley of battleship missiles intended for the Drakul battleship, just after its shields failed. That cruiser was wrecked beyond repair. Only the battleship and one of the cruisers were still in the fight. Both were hit and staggered like punch-drunk fighters, but continued to trade missile and laser fire with the Terrans. The amount of fire from the battleship had fallen way off, and the ship appeared to be finished. The Terrans were going to carry the day. A small smile came to Captain Griffin’s face. It didn’t last long.

“Gate activation!” called the science officer. “
It’s a battlecruiser...More activations... Battleship!...
Dreadnought!
”

The real fleet had arrived. They were doomed.

It’s about time, thought
Admiral Bullig, who had been wondering whether he was going to be left to die in this system. Without the rest of the fleet, it would have been inevitable. With the emergence of the
Destruction of Olympos
, though, all of the fire shifted to the larger vessel. The
Spurting Blood
was free of the minefield and drifting toward one of the Terran battlecruisers. “All weapons, cease fire!” he said.

“
All weapons cease fire, aye,” replied the attacker.

“We will let them think that we are finished,” said
Admiral Bullig, “and then we will hit them from minimum range.”

Captain Griffin stared with horror at the tactical display. In addition to the dreadnought,
at least 10 battleships and 15 battlecruisers had entered the system, along with countless smaller vessels. There was no way they could stop them all.

“Now would be a good time for the bombers,” Captain Griffin said, not allowing any of the terror she felt to enter her voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” replied the OSO, keying in the orders. “Calling the bombers.”

“
All bomber aircraft, this is Skywatch,
” announced the Space Operations Center, “
We have indications of multiple major combatants transiting into the system, including at least one dreadnought and four battleships. Stand by for activation!
”

“
Lancers copy
,” replied Colonel Judy Khalili,
Lancer 01’s
WSO. She switched to the squadron frequency. “
All Lancers, heat ‘em up!
” The pilots of 37 modified B-1B Lancer spacecraft brought the power levels up on their helium-3 fusion reactors. The leader of the Lancers, Colonel Khalili had the squadron’s one tactical display, computer, radar, and fire control system. She wished more of the craft had them, but there hadn’t been time.

“Has everyone checked in?” asked her pilot, Colonel
Darrell Larson.

Colonel Khalili nodded. Concentrating on her
system display, she didn’t realize Larson couldn’t see her nodding in her spacesuit. “All of the Lancers are up and ready, except for
24
. Their weapon system is showing some sort of fault. They’re troubleshooting it.”

“It’s amazing that only one aircraft is having problems,” Colonel Larson said. “As fast as they slapped these things together, I’m surprised any of them work at all.
Pull old aircraft out of preservation or museums, refit them with helium-3 engines and then carry them up to the moon to be put back into service? The whole idea is ludicrous, and Admiral Wright’s an absolute genius for thinking of it.”

“The planes aren’t much more than shells from which to hang missiles,” agreed Khalili
. “The control systems for flying them are minimalistic, the avionics are a joke, and the life support is non-existent. If it weren’t for the spacesuits, we’d be dead within seconds. God bless the men and women of the Air...what used to be the Air Force, for making it all work.”

“No kidding,” said Larson. “I heard over 2,000 former mechanics showed up
within two days of the call going out to help convert them. They lived in tents in the desert at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base so that they could spend all their time working on the aircraft.”

“The Spirits are reporting in...” said Khalili. “Looks like all 20
of the B-2 bombers are up. They should be; all of them were operational aircraft, so the conversion process was a lot easier for them. I think half of ours were previously retired. Did you hear where our plane came from?”

“No need,” replied Larson. “It’s aircraft
84-0051. I used to fly the plane before it was retired. In fact, I was the pilot that flew it to the National Museum of the Air Force. This jet was in the Cold War Gallery the last time I toured the museum.”

“OK,” said Khalili, staring at the
system display, “looks like 24 of the 26 B-52s are up and ready, and 33 of the 35 A-6E Intruders. The Russians aren’t doing so hot...only 10 of their 14 Bears are ready and nine of the 12 Backfire bombers. Let’s see...the B-1s have 24 of the new missiles, the B-2s have 16, the B-52s have 12 and the A-6s have five. I think the Russian Bears have 16, and the Backfires have 8. That makes...1,869 missiles, each with a one megaton warhead.”

“
All bomber aircraft, this is Skywatch,
” said the Space Operations Center. “
Stand by to launch on my mark!
”

“Think
1,869 missiles will be enough?” asked Larson, advancing the engine to full.

“I don’t know,” said Khalili. “I
hope so, but I don’t know...”

“
All aircraft, this is Skywatch,
” announced the Space Operations Center, “
We have indications of multiple major combatants transiting into the system, including at least one dreadnought and four battleships. Stand by for activation!
”

“Wake up, damn it,” said Commander
Walton ‘Salty’ Wells, reaching across the cockpit to shake his pilot. “It’s almost time to go.”

“I’m awake,” replied Commander
Rick ‘Lindy’ Lindenmeyer. “I was just resting my eyes.”

“How yo
u can sleep at a time like this is beyond me,” remarked Salty, shaking his head. He pointed to the flashes that could be seen in front of them. “Drakuls are in the system, people are dying...and you’re sleeping.”

Salty
thought he could see Lindy shrug inside his suit. “If I’m going to die today, at least I’m going to do it well rested.” He stretched, incredibly stiff after sitting in the close confines of an A-6E cockpit in a spacesuit for two days. The plane was a two-seater, with a small space for the pilot and another for the bombardier. There wasn’t much space beyond that to move around in, and his right leg had been cramping all day. Adding to his misery, their spacesuits were supposed to recycle their air, but Lindy’s wasn’t working very well, and he could smell his own stink.

A
particularly big flash came from in front of them. “So you think this is going to work?” asked Lindy, betraying his nervousness. They had been over this several times while they waited. There wasn’t much else to talk about.

“I don’t know,” replied Salty. “The AI in the
Terra
said that it had a good chance of working. At 50,000 miles from the stargate, we’re too far away from the stargate to look like mines to the Drakuls, and too close to look like missile launchers. We’re too small to be ships, and we aren’t flying fast enough to be fighters. The AI thought that we would look like anomalies and would be ignored by the Drakuls...at least until we fire our missiles. Hopefully by then they’ll have other problems and won’t worry about little ol’ us. That’s the theory, anyway.”

“
All bomber aircraft, this is Skywatch,
” said the Space Operations Center. “
Stand by to launch on my mark!
”

“Here we go,” Lindy said, advancing the
engine throttle. He was watching
Intruder 501
, the lead aircraft of the Intruder formation, out the left side of the cockpit. Since only one spacecraft in 10 had a full system, the rest of the converted aircraft would fire in the same direction their leader was pointing. In theory, all of the missiles would go down the same line of bearing into the vicinity of the stargate. With five bomber groups coming from five different directions (the two Russian squadrons were grouped together), they hoped to hit the maximum number of targets possible. It was the best the Terrans could do with what they had.

“
Intruder Flight, this is
Intruder 501,” commed the lead aircraft-turned-spacecraft as Skywatch transmitted the launch code, “
stand by to fire on my mark. Three...two...one...Fire!
” All down the line, missiles blasted off their rails and went in search of the enemy.