The Ninth: Invasion (10 page)

“Don’t worry about it.  How do you feel about the whole thing?”

“Like you have to ask.”  Cassandra smiled with bright red cheeks.

With a flash the monitor sprang to life; the Protectorates had finished assembling it.  The screen flickered for a few moments.

“Hopefully, training will help take their minds off it.”

“You clearly don’t know girls very well.”  Cassandra chuckled.

A loud buzzing filled the courtyard.  Everyone quickly covered their ears against the volume.  As it faded, Brent recognized a voice.

“Good morning troopers!  I hope this morning finds you all well.”  Administer Bloom’s voice boomed through the courtyard.  “I hope I’m coming through clearly.  The boys in maintenance tell me they are still working the bugs out of this.  Apparently, the lot of them have never tried anything like it before.  Of course, there’s a first time for everything!”

The troopers gathered around the blank screen.

“Okay, they say they are ready.  Hope you are all ready, too.”  The Administer’s voice faded out.

A moment later a frighteningly familiar monotone rang throughout the courtyard.  The monotone instructor was already rambling about some meaningless tidbit of history.  The screen remained black and lifeless.

“What’s the deal?” Marie asked.  “Where’s the instructor?”

“You really want to see his ugly mug?” Doug countered.

“Am I the only one who sees a dot on the monitor?” Humphrey mumbled as he walked closer.

He was right.  There was a small point of light in the center of the monitor.  He was almost touching it when he jumped back.

“It’s the instructor!” he mumbled.

“
What
?” Cain asked.

“It’s hard to make out, but I tell you that is the instructor.”

One by one the troopers examined the light.  In the center of the massive monitor was a small moving image no larger than a person’s thumb.  It was hard to make out, given its tiny size, but it seemed to be the monotone instructor giving his lecture.

“They rig up a huge monitor, go through the trouble of recording yesterday’s training, and all we get is a glowing thumbprint,” Erin said with a sigh.

“Report,” Nadia said trying to hide the nervousness she couldn’t shake.

“We are almost ready to make the final jump, ma’am,” Ensign Lingstrom said reassuringly as he handed her a cup of tea.

“Vincent? What are you doing here?  Shouldn’t you be asleep like the others?”

“This whole idea is mine, more or less.  If it is going to blow up in our faces, I will face it right here.  If that is all right with the captain.”

“I could use the company,” she said with a weak smile.

“You’ve shown a great deal of strength, all things considered.”

“You don’t have to sugar-coat it.”

“Honestly.  I don’t know anyone who could have handled all this better.”

“I’ll have a maintenance team visit your quarters,” she said as she leaned back.

“Captain?”

“Obviously there is something wrong with your mirror,” she said with a small smile.  “You’ve been the most composed out of all of us.”

“Only on the outside, ma’am,” he said as he made a weak smile.

“Well, keep it up.  We are going to need a level head soon.  No telling what is waiting for us on Trica.”

“Anyone responded to our warnings?” he asked, unsure he was ready for the answer.

“Some scattered responses.  Seems like your suggestion of going to ground has struck a note in the survivors as most ships are heading toward populated worlds.  We can’t get a complete picture, but it looks like they ambushed the Navy before anyone knew what was coming.  Most of the fleet has gone silent and none of our outposts are responding.”

“Most likely being jammed.”

“Ensign Vincent Lingstrom,” she said with a warm smile.  “Are you trying to comfort me?”

“No, ma’am,” he said with a light blush.  “I just assume that if the entire Navy was defeated the ITU would have already moved to take Trica.  The fact we are getting jump coordinates means the world isn’t under invasion, yet.”

“I still think it is sweet of you.  You’ll make a fine admiral one day.”

“Admiral, ma’am?” he choked out.

“If he’s going to make admiral, then I’m going to be elected grand emperor,” Doyle said haughtily.

“Morning,” Vincent said with forced politeness.

“How long until we jump?” Doyle asked.

“Another ten minutes.”

“I still say this is nothing short of madness.”

“I guess it is a good thing you aren’t in charge then,” Nadia said before taking a long sip of the tea.  “If we had listened to you, we’d all be dead right now.”

“The staging point?” he asked with a slight tremble.

“An hour ago,” Vincent said grimly, “we detected several outgoing jump vectors, none matching Navy signatures.

Doyle stared at him for a moment before falling to his knees.  Neither said a thing as he struggled to hold back his tears.

“Any survivors?” Doyle asked quietly.

“We don’t know,” Nadia said gently.  “We can’t scan the staging point directly, the area is still being jammed.”

“Ma’am,” the meek voice from the corner of the bridge spoke hesitantly.

“What now?” she asked, holding back a sigh.

“We’ve lost contact with the nav network over Trica.”

“Then the invasion has begun,” Vincent said, deep in thought.

“We are too late,” Doyle said in a discouraged tone.  “We’ll never get to Trica now.”

“The jump coordinates are only a few minutes old,” the meek voice countered.  “We could probably jerry-rig the . . .”

“It would take us an hour to override the fail-safe built into the jump drive,” Nadia said, slouching in her chair.  “And that’s being optimistic.  By then there would be too many PSF units on the ground for us to retake the world.  Beyond that our data wouldn’t be safe.  Doyle is right.”

“Not necessarily,” Vincent said slowly.

“What now?” Doyle demanded.  “Got another pearl of wisdom from the Navy playbook to make everything all better?”

“Can we contact Trica itself?” Vincent asked, ignoring Doyle.

“Not really,” the meek voice answered.  “Most of the news feeds are being either jammed or looped.  The ITU are completely in control over all data going in and out of Trica.”

“They might have overlooked this,” he said, not giving up.  “Try to contact the central weather agency.”

The meek boy glanced at the captain for approval.  She nodded urgently.  They all stared at him for what felt like an eternity.

“I can’t contact anyone,” the meek voice said at last.

“That’s it then.”  Doyle shook his head.

“However,” the meek voice said slowly.

“Yes?” Nadia pressed.

“Someone left the system open,” he said with a hint of hope.  “I’m getting detailed surface scans.”

“From the weather agency?” Nadia asked in surprise.

“I get it,” Doyle shouted.  “Trica is a formed world!  They have to monitor the surface constantly and adjust for any irregularities.”

“We should be able to use those scans to extrapolate jump coordinates,” Vincent said.  “But there is one slight problem.”

“Slight?” Nadia asked.

“The data being gathered is
surface
conditions,” Vincent said hesitantly.  “At best we’ll get some information from the cloud layers, but we would have to jump into the atmosphere.”

“
Low
atmosphere,” the meek voice added.  “The ITU are jamming the high orbit scanners.”

“I say we go for it,” Doyle said as he clenched his fist.

Everyone stared at him in surprise.

“Those Union dogs killed our friends and plan to take our worlds from us,” he said, not even bothering to hide his rage.  “I say we jump right underneath them and let them have a taste of the might of this battleship.”

“It’s your call, ma’am,” Vincent said.

Nadia stared at the two men and then rubbed the bridge of her nose.

“You said they are jamming the high orbit scanners?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Can you use the strength of the jamming to make a guess where the ITU ship responsible is?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Find where they are lurking and jump us in a suitable firing position.  Sound the alarm.  Let the crew know it is going to be a rough jump.”

The entire bridge crew went to work, preparing for the last jump the Stewart would ever make.

“I’ve done the best I can,” the meek voice said.  “I’ve narrowed it down a little, but it is a pretty big area.”

“More than enough,” the hulking man at the weapons console said, “I’ll have the main batteries shift to position as soon as they are free from the Wall and have a firing solution ready the
second
we clear the Wall.  All I need is one glimpse at those ugly Union dogs.”

“Jump drive ready, capacitors at charge,” Doyle said as he read the displays.  “Outer decks evacuated, volatile ordinate secured, and the trooper division reports they are ready for ground combat.  The Steward is ready to jump, ma’am.”

“Give me ship wide,” she said as she readied herself.

Doyle nodded to her.

“As most of you know, the Commonwealth is under attack,” she said with all the strength she could muster.  “Navy staging points have been attacked and the condition of our forces are unknown at this time.  The core world of Trica has just gone dark.  We will be jumping shortly onto the planet’s surface and engage the invasion force.  I don’t know how well the Steward will fair jumping so low, but I do know this: As long as I draw breath we will fight to protect our homes and our loved ones.  Prepare for final jump! 
Battle stations
!”

A tiny speck of light pierced the space just head of the Steward.  It slowly grew outward, forming a rectangular stillness in the darkness.  Small whips of yellow lightning danced around the stillness as the Wall took shape.  Fear and anticipation filled the ship as the Wall reached full size and the engines of the battleship slowly pushed it forward into the stillness.

“Here we go,” Vincent said quietly.

A gentle breeze wafted between the majestic skyscrapers of Trica.  The massive towers reflected the perfectly maintained greenery around them as the citizens left for the day.  A few knew that an invasion ship was high above, preparing to conquer the peaceful stillness, but most continued their routines in blissful ignorance.  A bright flash of yellow light suddenly replaced the gentle warmth of the setting sun.

The masses paused to turn their glances skyward.  Hanging listlessly between two of the massive towers was a small point of light, surrounded by tiny arcs of yellow lightning.  Terror filled the citizens as the point expanded into a black stillness.  Not one person in the mass was uncertain of the sight above them.  A Wall was being opened right above them.  The sounds of panic were drowned out as the arcs of lightning carved jittering paths through the reflective surfaces of the nearby towers.

The sounds of crashing metal ripped from the towers blended into the screams and panicked mad dash of the people below.  The mass transit system switched to manual as the operators held them long enough for the crowd to pile in.  All available transit lines switched to send as many support craft as possible as the fevered words of alarm spread across the planet’s surface.  As the mass transit cars sped off, a collective held breath broke through the panicked screams.  The bow of a battleship was emerging between the remains of the skyscrapers.

Massive jets of flame erupted out from under the bow as the ship struggled to compensate for the massive surge in gravity as it entered just above the planet’s surface.  The perfect streets and well-groomed lawns were incinerated in an instant as the barrage of inferno slowly crawled out of the unsympathetic Wall.  Massive cannon turret barrels slowly started to pierce to the top of the Wall as the ship slowly emerged.  The second the rear edge of the massive gun emplacement cleared the Wall the massive barrels swung upward.  The jets of flame shifted color as their heat increased to deal with the increased weight.

The tips of the barrels slammed into the remains of the once pristine towers of man and sent what was left of the reflective plates crashing downward.  The massive battleship slowly crawled outward, undeterred by the remains of the city.  A second turret on the bottom of the battleship emerged.  The jets struggled, but the weight was more than they could handle.  The second turret slowly shifted downward as the armor of the ship wailed against the strain.  The formerly straight lines of the ship’s edges slowly started to sag and the turret ran aground.  Sparks and explosions lit up what was left of the city streets as the leading edge of the turret drug through the scorched earth.  The hatches of the side missile silos rocketed off as the twisting hull pressure mounted around them.

As the center of the ship started to clear the Wall another set of massive jets roared to life.  They strained with all their might as they tried to aid the failing engines on the bow.  The ship slowly tried to correct itself, but the damage was done, the ship’s spine was shattered.  The front turret finished its angling and held eerily still for a moment.  The roar of the cannons dwarfed all other sound as they launched their barrage toward the skies above.  The shockwave of sound ruptured the reflective surfaces of the nearby towers, sending a rain of metal plates crashing downward.

The battleship continued undeterred by the chaos and destruction around it.  Small beam turrets emerged from any undamaged surfaces of the ship and started flinging small shafts of light upward.  The speed of the streaks of light was incredible, flying almost too quickly for the citizens in the neighboring cities to track.  A third set of barrels slowly emerged from the wall.  The massive turret on the top of the battleship started to shift to join the first.

“Lock confirmed,” the hulking man said in triumph.  “Chew on
this
you mangy dogs.”

The bridge shook as the cannon launched another volley.

“We are losing structural integrity,” Doyle shouted.  “The hull can’t take the strain.”

“Will we clear the Wall?” Nadia asked.

“Barely,” Doyle said as he double-checked the console.  “The Steward wasn’t designed for this, but we’re giving it all we can.”

“Status of the ITU ship?” she demanded.

“Two direct hits,” the hulking man said with a dark grin.  “Caught them off guard.  Never saw this coming.”

“We’re still being jammed,” the meek voice said.

“I said we hit them, not downed them.”  The hulking man shifted back toward his console.  “Another salvo should finish them.”

“They’ve got a target lock,” the meek voice said as the owner trembled openly.

The massive gun emplacements of the battleship roared again as they launched their ordinance.  The ruins of the city shook violently as the shockwave battered the remaining structures.

“
Incoming
,” Vincent shouted.

Three dull blips of light raced down toward the battleship.  The first crashed behind the Wall, reducing what was once an elaborate plaza into a smoldering crater in an instant.  The force of the blow slammed into the rear side of the Wall to no effect.  The direction of the Wall had been set, and not even the mightiest of weapons could change that.  The large chunks of topsoil slid down the rectangular stillness as the yellow arcs of lightning ripped at the still flying bits of dirt.