Beyond Mars Crimson Fleet (44 page)

Randall immediately pressed a button on the
communications console. A claxon sounded through the ship, as a
command signal was transmitted to the fleet.

Throughout every Martian
warship, supply ship, and mutant freighter, crews scrambled to get
their space helmets on. A minute later, Wakinyan gave the command
to blow atmosphere.

Martian ships then began
expelling their air supply of oxygen/nitrogen gas impregnated with
water vapor from breathing. As it was pumped out of rows of vents
along the sides of each ship, it formed a fine mist of ice
particles, which partially obscured the vessels. Swiftly the ships
move out of the ice clouds and proceeded to get underway. The
battle was about to begin.

* * * * *

Chapter 24:
Recon

The main asteroid belt of Valamars surrounded two
thirds of the inner system, similar to that of Earth’s. Unlike the
Earth system, however, it was not a sparsely populated area of
distant rocks loosely separated by as much as tens of thousands of
miles. On the contrary, it was a tight formation of ice, rock,
clumps of charged particles, and other forms of primordial debris
within a compact loop. The largest pieces tumbled aimlessly less
than a few thousand yards apart, while the gaps in between were
garnished and filled with smaller rubble.

Held together by a complex
gravitational field embodying six nearby circling gas giants, a
binary yellow dwarf sun system, and several thousand shepherding
planetoids within the belt itself, the circling ring of stone was a
foreboding specter in the rays of the system’s distant stars. The
desolate region ranged over 150 million miles wide and 30 million
miles at its deepest, and the majority of objects within the belt
were battered and cratered from the frequent collisions occurring
over the last two billion years. Furthermore, the region was still
extremely volatile, something that would never change through its
entire existence.

Born of a colossal
collision with a wandering star system, the leftover rocky material
was torn away or smashed apart in a titanic gravitational and
physical struggle that lasted over many thousands of years. Finally
after the rogue system had eventually merged with the Valamars
system, the debris settled into its present elliptical orbit. This
not only added uniqueness to the Valamars system, but also a
dangerous element of orbiting planet killers.

Although it filled the
night’s sky with these menacing rocky projectiles, it also provided
the Martians with a means of self-defense. For the asteroids’
random courses within the orbiting ring stood as an obstacle to any
spacecraft that was so unwise to attempt to penetrate it. It was a
natural barrier, one that Wakinyan intended to take full advantage
of.

Among the vast amounts of
debris and bodies that orbited within the belt, however; a somewhat
shiny objected floated with them. Its peculiar shape and size to
the untrained eye would be hard to classify, but to every Martian
Marine who saw it, the vehicle was the familiar workhorse they
called a boarding pod.

Its irregular shape blended
in well with the asteroids, as the craft drifted casually above
them. However, it was anything but casual inside the vehicle, where
a squad of spacesuited marines commanded by a newly commissioned
officer, Captain Stephan Gagarin, sweated out every minute as they
waited for the arrival of the enemy fleet.

The pod was hastily crammed
full of different instruments and equipment for detection and
tracking. However, with stealth as much as its mission goal, the
instruments were the craft’s only source of illumination. In the
dimness of its airless walls, the marines keep up their solitary
vigilance.

Gagarin’s eyes ached from
the strain of constantly scanning the eternal void of space for the
gleaming reflections of the Earth fleet. Although the passive
scanners were supposedly more than capable to detect the armada,
Gagarin trusted his eyes more than he trusted the equipment. The
asteroid field was way too dense, creating a number of false
returns, confusing electronic noise generated by different orbital
bodies in space, and rebounding echoes from by numerous meteors of
iron ore.

There was a lot riding on
this mission, and the marine did not want to leave anything to
chance. So as time ticked slowly by, the man refused to budge from
the porthole that he kept a faithful watch from.

“See anything, Gunny—I
mean, Captain,” Corporal Jerry Enders asked his friend and former
platoon leader.

Gagarin shook his head “no”
to indicate he saw nothing. “I think I’m going blind,” he said
while wishing he could rub his eyes. I’m catching some nasty
reflections off my visor from those damn small chunks of
ice.”

“You try adjusting your
visor’s tint control?” Enders offered advice.

Gagarin just sighed in
disgust. “Yeah, but it just makes it worse,” he said.

Suddenly, Gagarin jerked
his head to the side as he caught an unexpected shimmer in the
corner of his eye. He gawked fearfully through the porthole as a
lump came to his throat. Detected by his peripheral vision, the
black void now sparkled in a direction it had not done so before,
and it made his heart pound in his chest.

As he stared directly at
the new twinkle in the never-ending night, his eyes squinted
unblinking upon it hoping it was just the annoying glare of more
ice. But the truth fell upon him like a lead weight, and he
realized that it was the vastness of the Earth fleet that was
caught in the distant suns’ radiance.

“RAISE THE COMMANDER, NOW!”
Gagarin bellowed over the intercom as he positioned himself behind
the pod’s helm controls.

* * * * *

“Magnify
10 times,” Captain Renee ordered as he fixed his vision upon the
asteroid field. The huge circular viewer on the
Quinton
’s bridge for a moment
flickered in video loss, but then became a crisp sharp
image.

“Again!” he repeated, while
his apathetic face betrayed not his thoughts. Once again the
viewer’s magnification zoomed in closer.

Renee studied the vast
asteroid field with his cold machine eyes, while his heart felt a
great tempest of fear welling up deep within him. The belt of rock
and debris was as welcoming as a graveyard. The sea of orbiting
tombstones was immense—and ready to claim any invader to this
system who was foolish enough to wander into it.

O'Donald’s report was crystal clear; the cipher scout had
showed signs of being tampered with and data altered. Surely the
Martians wanted them here, leaving no doubt to the captain of
the
Quinton
; this
was an ambush.

Renee turned to Admiral
Darius, who sat unconcerned in her command chair. “Admiral, this
coincides with Admiral O'Donald’s report on the cipher scout. It’s
a trap!” Renee’s fear leaked out in a raised tone. “They want to
keep our fleet from maneuvering when they attack!”

However, Darius just
smirked. “Of course that’s what they want,” she answered, “I
wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“So what are we going to
do?” he became somewhat anxious.

Darius just smiled. “Halt
the fleet, but send some of our fighter patrols to probe the field.
Let’s see if our Martian friends grow a little impatient—and a
little careless.”

Renee nodded in relief and
then turned to the command and control computer. Within minutes of
Darius decree, flights of small blended upside–down dark gray
triangular boxes with stubby and raised swept-back “gul” wings
packed the space in front of the Crimson Fleet. The drone fighters
then armed their side–mounted weapon pods and headed directly into
the asteroid field with one mission: to seek out and destroy any
Martian threat.

* * * * *

The news from Gagarin was
not wholly unexpected to Wakinyan. He knew he had to provide an
incentive to draw Darius into his snare. If he didn’t, it might
turn into a stalemate with the Earthers possibly bringing in more
reinforcements. This ultimately spelled not just defeat for the
Martians—but annihilation.

“Signal Trager, Mr.
Randall,” Wakinyan ordered.

* * * * *

As minutes passed uneasily
by, every member of the marine pod team assumed his or her combat
position. The two ball turrets of the craft continuously swept the
space around them for any intruders, while its scanners keep track
of the enemy fleet. No one aboard really wanted to think about what
would happen next. For Earth fighter patrols grew so intense that
the possibility of discovery was likely. Yet, each marine hoped and
prayed that they would pass quickly out of range—and
unobserved.

“Still no movement with the
enemy fleet,” Arasuki Hoshi’s soft female voice communicated
through each headphone.

However, Gagarin sat
checking and fingering his controls. Not even her pleasing and
gentle tones changed the seriousness of the situation.

“Anyone want to bet that they are still
sitting there after we lose contact?” Enders tried to start up a
betting pool.

“SHUT UP AND STAY OFF THE
INTERCOM UNLESS YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO REPORT!” Gagarin made his
authority clear.

“Sorry, Captain,” Enders
apologized.

Gagarin didn’t like pulling
rank on his friend, but he wanted chatter kept to a minimum.
Besides, that kind of fool’s bet always seemed to tempt fate, and
Stephan knew they needed all the luck they could get. Still,
Gagarin valued his friend and did not want any bad-blood between
them.

“Sorry, Jerry,” Gagarin
spoke words atonement over his microphone a minute
later.

“It’s okay, Stef,” Enders
regarded the tense strain upon his long-time buddy.

Suddenly, Arasuki’s voice
broke in over the intercom, blasting each marine’s eardrums with a
warning, “SIX ENEMY FIGHTERS COMING IN AT TEN O’CLOCK AND THEY
LOCKED ON TO US!”

Without hesitation Gagarin
immediately brought the pod’s engines to life, dropping the small
craft diagonally lower into orbit of the asteroid field. As the pod
descended, it was buffeted by tiny chunks of debris, which were
traveling somewhat faster and laterally. The ice and stone rubble
pelted the craft’s armored hull, denting it thoroughly even though
its speed was only slightly slower.

“BALL TURRETS, FIRE AT
WILL!” Gagarin directed, maniacally maneuvering the small craft as
the six fighters burst into view.

The pod’s ball turrets
spewed a lethal barrage of pulsed traces of plasma bullets in their
general vicinity. The shafts of energy lit the asteroids as they
passed, and devastated any small debris that got in the way. The
drone fighters, however, swiftly dodged the tracers and returned
fire in an effort to destroy the vehicle.

The shooting was wild and
furious, arching in every direction. Two fighters vanished in
brilliant flashes as the murderous crossfire reached a fever pitch.
However, the Earth ships were just as deadly, as hits were scored
on the pod.

Plasma tracers penetrated
the pod’s armored hull and raked the interior of the craft.
Equipment blew up and things were holed as Gagarin heard the death
screams of several marines, but he refused to take his eyes off of
his monitor as he tried to steer the vehicle away.

Pushing the throttle up as
fast as it would go, the pod speedily descended further into the
asteroid belt. Stephan fought to evade the larger rocks and
boulders that seemed to be everywhere. He cursed the drifting stony
chunks as he savagely combated them to maintain control.

Yet as spitefully as the
meteors plagued him, so did they also plague the Earth fighters
that followed. The machines, however, lacked the human intuition
Gagarin had, which became a severe handicap. Postulating the random
courses of the wayward rocky projectiles or guessing what direction
they might turn became impossible. One by one they were struck down
and smashed to bits by the relentless surge of stone and ice.
Finally, the last one died as small fist-size craggy lump destroyed
its power plant, denying the fighter any thrust for propulsion. It
was then crushed in an impact with a meteoroid.

The ordeal, however, was
far from over for the pod. All at once, Gagarin noticed on his
scanner screen that something very large and out of control was on
what was an intercept course with them. Stephan kicked the rudder
hard as he could, while trying to escape. The merciless asteroid,
however, unerringly bore down upon him, plowing through everything
in its path.

* * * * *

Selena was pleased at the
report that a Martian patrol craft had been spotted and attacked
within the asteroid belt. Although all contact had been lost with
the flight of drone fighters, their last communication indicated
that the craft had been hit and sustained heavy damage. She was
sure that by now it had been obliterated.

Darius then contemplated
her next move. Without the reconnaissance vehicle spying on them,
advancing in any direction unhindered, or taking any action to draw
the Martians out into the open were all within the range of her
possibilities. A strategy soon came to mind; one she hoped that
would draw them to her. However, she needed something to motivate
it, something that would make them believe that she was acting
irresponsibly and unthinking. Her wish was soon granted.