AMP The Core (16 page)

York offered a half smile. "Wish I was going, Sir."

I smiled back. "We could always use you, York. But we need to make use of these new suits, and you are the one to best pick and train recruits. Besides, I think Frost will enjoy an adventure where she gets to pretend like she is in charge."

York smiled as she asked several associates to come out to give her a hand. I sat in my pilot’s chair and brought up manifests for the number of microprobe sensors we had available to us. Frost, Powell, and Maxwell soon arrived.

I spoke. "I need you to go to Bella sector warehouse five and pick up three cases of microprobes. We are heading out to the fleet to plant as many of them as we can on the Durian command ships."

Frost turned to York. "You coming, Yorkie?"

York replied, "This one is all yours, Frost. I’ll be training new BGS recruits. We are adding three dozen to our ranks."

Frost grinned as she stepped out of the hold. "Outstanding!"

With that statement, Frost and the others blinked out and headed off towards the warehouse. As I waited for their return, I decided to fish around in the data I had downloaded from the Defender. I had the name of my direct ancestor who was an Earth original. He had been transported to the Grid at the age of twenty.

I swiped screens and pressed buttons until I had the person of interest’s records displayed before me. Delmar Grange had been a cargo pilot before being swept away. I had to smile at what I now knew was the family line of business. Package delivery was in my blood.

Delmar had come from Kansas City, Kansas. It was a city that had survived the attacks on Earth by the Kurtz as well as our own food wars, the later of which had gone nuclear. After twenty minutes of reading up on my ancestor, Frost and the others returned with the sensor probes. The hatch was closed, and the Swift lifted off the ground and shot up through the atmosphere with a whisper.

Frost spoke. "You have a grin on your face, Mr. Grange. What’s up?"

I looked over at Frost. "I was just reading a bit about my family history. I pulled up the records of my first ancestor on the Grid. Guess what he did for a living back on Earth?"

Frost slightly tilted her head and grinned. "Hmm. I would guess either a circus clown or an ass model, Sir."

I shook my head. "You always have to be crude, don’t you. Anyway, he was a cargo pilot, a Messenger, just like me!"

Frost let out a laugh. "I guess I could see that, Sir. Let’s see if you can find my peeps. My first ancestor was Silas Theodore Frost. Look him up, Sir. You have me all curious now."

I pressed a few buttons and swiped a few screens until Silas Theodore Frost came up from the Grid records. I linked the file to the Defender records and soon had a match.

I spoke. "Here we go. Silas Theodore Frost. He was a circus clown."

Frost replied, "What? No way, Sir! Show me that screen!"

I laughed. "OK, busted. Looks like he was a machine architect. Worked in the science division of the AMP government."

Frost questioned my response. "The what, Sir? AMP?"

I pressed a few more buttons and searched for the term. "The Alliance of Major Planets, AMP. OK. Looks like it was the name of their multispecies government before they were pulled away to here. I remember reading about some of those other species during all the wars they fought. In one, their worst enemy became their best ally. Well, Frost, at least Silas had a reputable job."

Frost frowned. "Sounds like he was a nerd, Sir."

I again laughed. "If you take all the technical things you know, Frost, as compared to him, you are probably the bigger nerd."

The final twenty minutes of our run out to the fleet were spent looking up ancestors of Powell and Maxwell. Powell took pride in his battle-hardened Marine ancestor while Maxwell pondered the wealth and power of his corporate executive forefather.

When the enemy fleet came on the tactical display, we began mapping out sectors for each of us to focus our efforts on. I had an area of the armada where Durian ships were parked closely together. A passive scan showed 112 command ships. Frost, Powell, and Maxwell were given parts of the fleet with a similar amount.

The Swift was parked up tight against a centrally located Colossun battleship to conceal our location while the sodium skin was inactive.

I gave my final speech. "You all have the code for opening this door. Make sure you are in and out as fast as possible and as few times as possible. Now, stuff your exterior pockets with probes, and let’s move."

The remainder of the normal daytime hours was spent hopping from ship to ship. The probe devices were planted without incident. The microprobes were placed on every Durian command ship as well as on several dozen large Colossun vessels.

As I floated back towards the Swift after my final deployment, I took a short detour through a Dakar ship. I was stunned at what I found. The large ship housed upwards of fifty thousand assault troops, all in stasis chambers. I then hopped over to the nearest Prassi vessel and found the same sleeping troop levels.

I gloved my way back to the Swift, where I found the others waiting. "OK, I think this fleet is loaded with assault troops. We need to get this information back to the Colonel."

The hatch was closed, and the Swift was once again invisible to all that surrounded us. As we began to pull away from the fleet, the microprobes we had planted all began to activate. They would supply our intel staff with a full accounting of what we would be up against. I set down in the quad and let Frost and the others out. I knew we had at least twelve hours before any new invasion began. With the others departed and the news of the sleeping troops delivered, I turned the Swift back towards Molov.

When I walked into the lab, Ashley was surprised to see me. "I didn’t think you would be back."

I replied, "I have another four hours’ free time, so I thought I would spend it here. How’s our friend doing?"

Ashley shook her head. "He has species from five galaxies that he has been forcing into these fights. The last four pulled from the Milky Way have all been annihilated. And get this, when a species has won out in their home and then discovered the temple structure, it doesn’t matter which path they pick, they are all transported here."

I looked at the display she had up in front of her. "Explain that temple thing to me. I don’t think I picked everything up when I was walking through the history logs."

Ashley nodded. "It looks like he has an entire planet that he can mask away so that travelers in the galaxy don’t know it’s there until he wants them to. He has at least one of these planets in each galaxy. The temple structure itself takes several species to get it open. When it’s open, a long hallway is revealed that has a red door and a blue door at the end."

Ashley continued, "A holo-image of the Duke appears and tells the species there that they are being given a choice. They can choose one door, and their entire species is to be sent to a galaxy of peace and prosperity. If they select the other door, they are to be sent to a galaxy of discovery and conquest. Their third option is to remain where they are. As it turns out, the Duke is only using the decision to gauge the commitment and psyche of the species. They all get sent to the same place no matter what their decision."

I replied, "So, you win, you lose. You lose, you lose. Sounds like a great game. Have we found out how he transports everyone at once?"

Ashley shook her head. "That is too complex a question, apparently. We only get broken responses when a question has multiple partial answers. Until we have prompted his memories surrounding that whole issue to restore, we can’t get a clear answer. The doc is trying to figure out the most efficient way for us to ask questions and get somewhat complete answers. For you and me, all those neural pathways build up a list of responses, and our reasoning selects the best or most appropriate response."

Our conversation continued as each new question was asked of Quan, with a waiting period that followed. The four hours passed quickly, and I was fast on the flight back to Tresha with another six BGS suits.

When I landed, our intel teams were just beginning to receive data from the microprobes we had planted on the Duke’s fleet. I found York and delivered the new suits to her.

York spoke. "More? Actually, I think we could use all of them that we can get our hands on, Sir. The new trainees were able to pick up on their use quickly. I left them out at the mine to continue until tomorrow. I’ll pick out another six for these suits."

The Colonel came over the comm. "Grange, get over to my office; we want your input as this data comes in."

I complied, plopping down in an available chair when I arrived. "What are we seeing, Colonel? Anything new?"

The Colonel pressed a button on his console, and the image was transferred to the nearest available wall. "It looks like they are gearing everything for an all-out assault on the Gonta Carions."

I replied, "We were able to hold them off last time. How are the repairs to the Gonta fleet coming?"

The Colonel grimaced. "The Gonta fleet is not the concern. Commander Grita has this same information. I suspect that if this is what the Durians are planning, the Gonta are going to pull up and run. I could hardly blame them."

I spoke. "Has anyone broached the subject with them? I know it would be an extremely sensitive topic, but I think it needs to be discussed."

Admiral Chaulk replied, "I’ll take it up with my counterpart after this meeting."

I held up my hand. "No, I’ll talk with Commander Grita. He respects us enough to give an honest answer on an issue this big."

When our discussion had ended, I hailed the Gonta Commander on the comm. "Commander Grita, I wanted to talk frankly with you about the Durians’ plans as we are now seeing them. What response can we expect from the Gontas?"

The comm was quiet for several seconds. "We have been discussing this very issue. Our fleet is in poor condition, Mr. Grange. If the Durians indeed do come at us with a full-on assault, we will have no other choice but to power up the gravity drives. I apologize if this seems like a rash action, but we have to consider the well-being of our people first. The old adage of ‘Live to fight another day’ has been our decision."

I replied, "Don’t apologize, Commander. We would probably do the same given similar circumstances. We won’t fault you or hold ill will towards you for it. Knowing helps us to plan better if we know what to expect."

I turned back to the Colonel when the comm had ended. "There we have it."

Admiral Zimmerman spoke. "We currently have two options. Plan for the inevitable, or come up with a plan to get the Durians to alter theirs. Is there anything we can do that will make them change their current strategy? A pre-attack? How many Marines can we put on their ships in a move that won’t be suicidal?"

The discussion continued for several hours. No feasible alternative came to light. We would brace for the armada’s assault and the Gonta’s fleeing. In a last positive sign, the Bulgar fleet returned. Two million Bulgar soldiers volunteered to join our forces on Tresha. In a similar move, half a million Gonta Marines offered their services. Both gestures were gladly accepted, and plans altered to position the new troops where they were most needed.

At the first signs of an assault, the Gonta Carions would be moved to friendly Bulgar space to assist in their ongoing war with the rival Bulgars. Should the armada find its way there, the Gontas would again be moved to a safer and more distant part of the galaxy. It was the same game we had played for a thousand years.

Here I was again, waiting for an all-out battle to begin. We had been lucky with the delays, but they came with a new problem. The Colossuns were still adding ships to the armada. Our latest intel showed two hundred mega-container ships, identical to the one we had seen when the Colossuns first arrived. I thought of the supplies that it would take to keep such an armed force in space. The Colossuns were prepared to take care of their armies.

As I browsed through the Earth logs on the Swift, the alarm sounded. The armada was on the move. In twelve hours, the Carions would be attacked and would flee. The fleet would then be focused on Tresha, and we had no doubt that soon after, the ground war would begin.

With the clock ticking, I made a final flight to Molov. The initial Wrens were nearing completion, but they would not arrive until after hostilities had begun. Ashley and the doctor had continued prying information from Quan while Frig worked on the joining of wormholes. In his most recent experiment, 256 microportals had been combined into a single wormhole.

The diameter of each endpoint remained less than one centimeter, but Frig had hopes of scaling that number up. He was uncertain of how large he might be able to go. The cesium fusion generator, when away from the planet Molov, was calculated to have ample power.

I again left Ashley after a long embrace and raced back to Tresha for my final orders. At present, I would continue to harass the Durian command ships as they conducted their assault of the Carions.

Frost and a dozen other BGS-outfitted Marines stepped up into the hold of the Swift. "Mr. Grange, I’ve been asked to pass this on to you. We, the team here and me, we are to be dropped off in the middle of the Durian fleet. We will handle everything else from there. You, Mr. Grange, will be asked to return here to the quad, where you will pick up another dozen BGS Marines. Again, they will be dropped in the center of the fleet, and we will coordinate our efforts from there."

I replied, "OK, what do I do after that?"

Frost smiled. "You do what you do best, Sir. You kick the crap out of them, and then you kick it out of them again!"

I nodded. "I can do that. When do they want us to leave?"

Frost sat in the copilot’s chair. "Since we are only seconds away from the Carions, the Colonel said we could wait right here until the armada hits the Tresha system. We could still deploy before they take up position if needed."

I stretched out my hand. "Sergeant, if I haven’t said it before, it has been an honor to serve with you. All of your shenanigans with the groping and such are meaningless in the grand scheme of things. You fight with a ferocity and spirit that any species would be proud of. What I’m trying to say is, I’ve grown fond of you, Frost. With all that we have been through, I would consider you a good friend."

Frost placed her hand over her heart with a pouting expression on her face. "You touch me right here, Sir."

I sighed. "That’s touched, Frost. I know what you are getting at, and I am not going to touch you there!"

The sergeant laughed. "Girl’s gotta keep trying, Sir! To give up is to admit defeat!"

I shook my head as the other BGS Marines who knew Frost chuckled. I turned back to my holo-display to see a flashing signal on the tactical screen. The armada was dropping through light speed.

I spoke. "That would be our signal. Best of luck to us all. And remember, even a partial kill of a ship is a win. Don’t turn back to finish the job; just keep moving on to the next one. Every command ship we kill is one less they will be directing their ground troops from when they hit the surface!"

Ten seconds later, we had left the atmosphere. As my heart rate attempted to increase due to the adrenaline that was now coursing through my veins, I took note of my health monitors. The BGS suit was releasing chemicals to slow my increased heart rate while the filter pack and bio-gel worked to remove the same excess adrenaline. The result was a feeling of calm as I entered the war zone. Our Human ancestors had designed features into the BGS that covered nearly every Human bodily reaction. It was a new point of pride in my species.

As we took up our initial position, a new alert showed on the tactical display. A dozen massive ships were dropping from light speed on the other side of the Carions. My jaw dropped as my BGS attempted to counter the stress reactions of my body. Twelve ships that matched the appearance of the massive ion cannons that the Milgari had attempted to build took up position just outside the range of the Carions’ guns.

The first giant cannon bolt blew all of the external plating from one of the Carions on a three-hundred-meter-diameter section. A second shot in the identical spot dug deep into the Carion’s surface decks.

I yelled over the comm at the Colonel, "Change of plans, Colonel! We are going after those massive cannons! They will rip those Carions to shreds!"

The Colonel replied, "Take them out, Grange! If they turn those towards us, we won’t have a defense! Figure out how to kill those things, Grange, or we are dead for certain!"

As I turned the Swift towards our new targets, York came over the comm. "Start with the cannons on the left of your display, Mr. Grange. We will be joining you with another dozen BGS Marines!"

The tactical display showed a single Gonta transport lifting off through the Tresha atmosphere. I raced towards the massive cannon ships as Frost doled out orders for the ships we would assault first. I programmed the Swift to circle and to take out as many of the cannons as it could, regardless of our being on them or not.

I spoke. "I sent each of you the pattern the Swift should be following. If you think it’s heading for your target, get out if you can, but be prepared to suck it up on this one if needed. We have to kill those things at all costs, or this war is definitely lost!"

I looked around and received a stern nod from each of the Marines standing behind my chair. I turned back to tactical with a building pride in my species. To a man, they were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, with no guarantee of victory.

Frost then grabbed my arm. "Sir, that cannon is turning towards the planet!"

I pressed a tactical calculation button on the display. A new target was falling directly on the line the cannon was turning towards.

I yelled over the comm. "York! Get off that ship! That cannon is sighting on you! York!"

Nine seconds later, a burst of ion energy left the massive cannon’s power focuser. The Gonta transport was instantly vaporized. My heart skipped a beat as I thought of the loss of our best fighter, and someone that I considered a close friend.

Frost spoke. "She could have made it out, Sir. They had their suits on. I would be certain that they activated them in time."

I looked up at Frost as I slowly shook my head. "I don’t think so, Frost. The skin on these suits is powerful enough to handle a standard blaster, or to let you float through the walls of a slow-moving ship. It can’t handle an ion bolt of that energy magnitude."

After several seconds of silence, I again spoke. "OK, well, we have our mission before us. Let’s give the Duke and his henchmen a lesson in Human resolve. You each have your target ships. Let’s show ’em what we’ve got!"

The Swift slowed, and for only a few seconds the skin deactivated, and the thirteen Humans in their BGS attire maneuvered out. The Swift sped up and then disappeared into the void.

We each set our BHD gloves to maximum and quickly closed in on our targets. I glanced back at the Carions in time to see the hydrogen store ignite on the most heavily damaged station. The Gonta Feritel, the Carion belonging to the political sect of the Gonta Federation, exploded in a white-hot fireball. The size of the Carion gave the appearance of an explosion moving in slow motion. Deck after deck turned white hot as nearly a billion Gonta citizens vanished from existence. My whole body shook as I gazed at the sight before me.

The health circuits built into my BGS were working their hardest to help contain my emotional state. I was stunned by the instant loss of so many beings. They had only wanted to live in peace. The anger inside me began to build as I slowly regained my composure. On this day, I would easily give my life to see the Duke’s demise.