Beyond Mars Crimson Fleet (43 page)

“What about the alternate
power source?” Richard questioned further.

“If we lose all power from
the converters, gravity will be compartmentalized and sustained for
about three minutes—provided the main flux condenser is not
destroyed. For our weapons, we have one, maybe two shots with the
main gun from the improvised battery power. No more! Secondary
lasers will have enough stored energy to fire for about 15
seconds.” Jim then smirked in a laugh, “That should be enough to
take at least one more of those bastards with us!”

The remark shook Wakinyan
out of his funk. He marveled at Randall’s total support, regardless
of what was probably a certain end. “You know something, Jim?
You’re a damn good friend!” Richard admitted.

“It will be a good day!”
Randall repeated Wakinyan’s favorite expression.

Wakinyan finally smiled.
“Anything else?” he relaxed.

Randall returned his
smile. “Ah, yes—the newly appointed General Franks.”

“What did he do now?”
curiosity bade Wakinyan.

“Remember how you said he
could have twenty shuttles to arm with missiles,” James reminded
Wakinyan of a previous consent.

“Yeah,” Wakinyan recalled
the decision induced by the marine officer’s insistence of their
participation in the coming battle. “With him acting as a decoy, it
makes sense not to leave them defenseless. So what’s the
problem?”

James threw his head back.
“Well apparently, he can’t count so good—he’s armed over a hundred
of them! And that’s not all, he got every type of weapon he could
beg, borrow, or steal. And they are some of the weirdest looking
contraptions I’ve ever seen!” Randall faithfully reported. “I think
he has some crazy notion about him and his marines taking on the
Earthers by all themselves.”

Wakinyan just chuckled
softly. “Jarheads!”

* * * * *

On rim of the Magnus Sol
System, the Crimson Fleet licked its wounds as each vessel finished
the last of their repairs. However, shock still reverberated
through every ship at the damage the eight Martian destroyers had
inflicted. The fleet’s reputation of invincibility lay shattered in
the ruined and burned-out hulks that had once been the pride of
Earth’s mightiest armada. Although two obsolete Martians destroyers
had paid the ultimate price for the insult, more than a score of
various Earth vessels were destroyed with them and many others
damaged. It was a humiliating defeat.

On the
bridge of the
Quinton
, Selena stewed in her own venom and malevolence. Once again
the Martians had humbled her, but this time they succeeded only
because of the help by Trager and his mutineers. The damage was so
extensive to her fleet that it required nearly a day’s worth of
overhauling and replacement to make the crimson ships fully
operational again.

The
battle matrix system was back online as well, but only because the
needed spare parts were stripped out of the
Ruthann
. However, it crossed Selena’s
mind that should there be any more traitors about; sabotage to the
matrix at a critical moment was still a possibility. This thought
angered her even more, and she vowed that this would not happen
again.

“CAPTAIN RENEE!” Darius yelled out near the
top of her lungs.

Renee’s head spun to
Selena’s demanding tone. He then abruptly ended a conversation with
the damage control officer and turned to her. Quickly leaving the
man behind, Renee swiftly paced to Selena’s side.

Darius sat in her command
chair like relaxing on a couch. However, her face was contorted in
the lines of hate and revenge.

“Renee, how long until all
repairs to the fleet are made?” Selena interrogated her
subordinate.

“All ships will be fully
functional within the hour, Admiral,” the captain briefed the woman
cyborg.

Selena motioned Renee
closer with an index finger. “This is an order you will carry out
without question! Do you understand?” she asked in deadly
earnest.

The sound of Selena’s voice
alarmed Renee, but he stood ready to comply. “Yes, Admiral,” he
acknowledged.

“Good,” Selena was not in
the mood for any back talk. “When the fleet has completed all
repairs, this is what you will do!” and she began to explain what
she had in mind.

Renee listened intently to Darius’ order.
However, the command was one he could not believe. The more she
spoke, the more he was convinced that she was obsessed—and perhaps
bordered on madness. Still, he accepted her military decree, and
once she finished, he began to make the necessary preparations to
carry it out.

An hour
later, the last full humans aboard the
Quinton
were rounded up. They were
beaten bloody, pushed, and dragged into an empty, but repaired
shuttle bay by their cyborg shipmates who were armed. The humans
did not understand reason for their physical abuse and begged for
it to stop. Their pleas, however, fell upon deaf machine ears as
they were quickly sealed into the chamber.

As every member of the
group pondered their fate, they nursed their injuries as best they
could. Suddenly, they heard the sound of huge motors and hydraulic
systems rumble above their frightened voices. The sound was steady
and unrelenting, and as the reverberation continued, the terrifying
hissing of an air breach joined in without warning.

“THEY’RE OPENNING THE OUTER
DOORS!” cried out a man.

Bloodcurdling screams
quickly followed, as the people panicked. They clawed and tugged at
every hatch or door that might provide them with safety—but none
were granted escape. Every soul was then wrenched out into space
with the howling and disappearing atmosphere of the bay. What
followed afterwards was a deathly silent.

Selena
stood on the bridge of the
Quinton
, gazing out of a massive
window plate. She was extremely contented to see the countless
human bodies struggle for life and then die in the cold, dark void
as each ship emulated the
Quinton’s
lead.

“There’ll be no traitors’
help this time,” she said to Renee. “Get us underway!”

“Yes, Admiral,” Captain
Renee affirmed.

Within minutes, the entire
Crimson Fleet vanished into multitudes of hyperspace wormholes that
all lead to Valamars.

* * * * *

Chapter 23: It
Begins

Because the Martian fleet
lacked any type of space probes, they were always forced to rely on
manned reconnaissance. It was a costly way of providing needed
intelligence, but there was no other choice.

A small
Martian patrol ship,
MPS
Tepid
, glided to its observation point on
the edge of the Valamar System. The craft was part of a squadron of
twelve that was to monitor for the arrival of the Earth fleet. Its
position was roughly 200,000 kilometers from the slowly tumbling
cipher scout. Considered a safe distance for observation, the tiny
five-man crew vessel began its reconnaissance duty in the hope that
it and its eleven sister ships would go
unnoticed.

While four of the crew
diligently worked their instruments and watched for any signs of
the invaders, the fifth crewman readily handed out mugs of coffee,
prepared in the ship’s midget kitchen. As he passed the last cup to
the ship’s captain, he gazed out the front window plate at the
serene view of space and stars.

“See anything, Captain?”
the crewman asked concerned.

The captain took a sip of
coffee to wet his lips. “Nope, sensors all show clear,
too.”

The crewman frowned
nervously. “When do you think they’ll come?”

“Soon enough!” the captain
spoke honestly. The captain then glanced at his chronometer. “It’s
about time for a communication check. You better do it before
someone gets worried.”

“Aye, Sir,” the crewman
answered, taking a last look at the stars. He then turned made his
way back through the cramp compartment with an uneasy feeling
crawling up his spine.

* * * * *

As
the
Crazy Horse
passed lazily over Valamars, Wakinyan and Randall stood on the
bridge in their space suits that were donned beforehand, save for
the helmets they held in hand. All that could be done was
accomplished and they waited, like every other Martian, for the
enemy fleet to emerge.

The planet presented a
beautiful and picturesque view from the 25,000-mile high orbit. It
was sunrise for some of the magnificent, but unfilled Martian
cities. Nevertheless, it enabled the duo with a breathtaking sight
and the hope of a new day: the birth of Valamars.

“You think we’ll ever get
to see them inhabited by our people?” asked Randall candidly,
guessing at Wakinyan’s answer.

“Probably not,” Wakinyan
was truthful. “But they will be filled—with a better future than
what we had.”

Randall frowned mindfully. “You know, I been
thinking. In all of Earth’s history, Martians have always been
portrayed as the bad guys. We’re the green creatures with huge
heads and nasty tentacles ceaselessly looking to obliterate
mankind. At this moment, I don’t find that idea very amusing,”
James sounded offended while his face betrayed a hint of anger.

Wakinyan
placed a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “The Earthers have always had the
problem of projecting their inner most fears—or their own hatred
upon something they don’t
want
to understand. It’s an easy way of justifying
their self-righteousness—and their actions of destruction. I hope
we, as Martians, never become like them.”

“Well, we’ll be long beyond
caring if it ever happens,” added James. “But the funny thing is
that the Earthers view of us even stems back to ancient times.
Mars, God of War, they made him out to be a bully and a
coward.”

“It’s a myth, Jim,”
Richard pointed out, “and those bastards out there are about to
find that out—the hard way!”

Suddenly, the
communications crewman called out to the two, “Commander, Captain,
we’ve got company!”

* * * * *

The bow
of the
MPS Tepid
floated near its patrol station on course, while the rest of
the tiny ship—and the bodies of its dead crew tumbled and spun in
all other directions. Dismembered by an accidental ramming by an
Earth scout ship coming out of hyperspace, the craft was destroyed
in an instant.

The
MPS Catter
had watched the horrific scene from less than 30,000
kilometers away as it raced to get to its own patrol area. It had,
however, alerted the Martian forces of the tragedy and the
invasion.

In quick
succession, the rest of the Earth fleet soon appeared out of
dazzling rotations of swirling neon energy. The Earth fleet then
reformed itself and prepared for battle, while the
Ruthann
hunted for the
cipher scout. The big ship founded it very
easily.

On the
bridge of the
Quinton
, Selena paced the deck deliberately, her boots clicking to
the metal plates. She stopped, however, and turned to Captain
Renee, who approached her.

“Admiral,” the cyborg
captain began his report, “the entire fleet has arrived and the
cipher scout has been retrieved.”

“Good,” Selena was anxious
to end this. “As soon as all ships have regrouped, the fleet will
proceed at space normal speed until we make contact,” Darius
ordered.

Renee, however, was
troubled. “Admiral, what about the destroyed Martian patrol
ship?”

Selena
paused in thought. “It might have been a coincidence, but the
Martians aren’t stupid. Send some of our fighters out to cover the
fleet. I also want you to divide up two squadrons of destroyers and
have them patrol ahead of us. We will not be caught by surprise
again!” she affirmed to the
Quinton’s
captain.

* * * * *

From the
bridge of the
Crazy
Horse
, Randall ended the conversation with
the captain of the
Catter
. He took a deep breath and
turned to Wakinyan. “
MPS Catter
reports that the
Tepid
has been destroyed and that the
enemy fleet is moving forward, on course.”

“So it begins,” Wakinyan
thought out loud. “How much time before they reach the asteroid
field?”

James then made some quick
calculations. “At present speed, approximately two
hours,”

Wakinyan nodded a
confirmation, as he bit his lip. “Mr. Randall, notify General
Franks to get into position. Bring all ships to general quarters
and give the signal to prepare to blow atmosphere. Once atmosphere
is blown, move them to their respective jump off points for the
rendezvous,” Wakinyan commanded.