Interstellar Assault, page 29
Steele absorbed that as he resolved to get the Third Space Marine Battalion to the battlefield, sane and ready. He could no longer afford his depression. He would not take the slope dope. He was going to keep his mental health at the highest pitch possible. He was determined to find effective methods for achieving that. He wasn’t sure how exactly yet. But with the knowledge of what had happened to the other Orion ship, and seeing what was happening in their own. For his men’s sake, for the sake of planet Earth and his dear son—he was going to get back home to Earth. He was going to take his son and raise him in the Steele way, with Steele philosophies. He had to believe there would come a time when it would be his son’s turn for these sorts of decisions and actions.
“All right, Lieutenant—or should I say, Captain—you have to call yourself the Captain.”
Steele outlined a few suggestions as to how Moore should talk to the men when she came on the speakers next.
Afterward, Steele didn’t shake their hands and certainly, he did not hug them. He wanted to. Despite his resolve, if he touched one of them, he was afraid he’d be all over her like Bluto in the Popeye cartoons that he’d watched as a kid.
With that, Steele had Moore lead him back to the hatch that would return him to the land of angry marines.
-62-
SATURN
DECEMBER 2063
Queen Ningal was on the bridge of the Interstellar Voyager Akkad. She watched on the big screen as her officers, older Valiants, showed her what had taken place on the second nuclear pulse propulsion vessel heading for them.
“Am I seeing this right?” Ningal asked.
She watched in sped-up time as five big missiles left the Earth warship.
“What are the Earthlings launching those missiles at?” Ningal asked.
The Valiant Watch Officer, an older man with iron gray hair and a stern look, with medals on his chest, said, “I have spoken to the mind specialists before showing it to you, my Old Queen.”
Ningal would have once hated the title. Now, she smiled. She wore regal, thick robes that had deep religious significance. Her acolytes surrounded her, several holding lamps with real wicks of fire.
An acolyte said the old gods from the homeworld had given her the fire. It came from their destroyed world. The acolyte had received it in spiritual form and lit it physically. The fire symbolized true spiritual power, emblematic of Ningal’s growing authority.
As a group, her acolytes had spoken to the old gods. Ningal felt in her heart that she, too, had heard voices. They were not audible voices, but ideas and thoughts given her from the old gods. Maybe she didn’t hear the same way the younger ones did. They had intense gleams in their eyes. She was often more practical than they, but she knew the old gods spoke and used her to do these things.
Now, Ningal spoke to the Watch Officer of the bridge. “This is an answer to our prayers.”
“My Queen?” he asked.
“We have prayed earnestly that the enemy would make foolish moves. Now, it has happened. Madness must have gripped the crew of the warship.”
“That is what the mind specialists believe,” the Watch Officer said. “Madness has gripped them. The reason is that they are not a space-faring race. We’ve watched them for several years now. The Earthlings all stay close to their home planet. This venture to attack us has likely taxed their resolve and mentality. It is the reason they’re going mad.”
That smacked of scientism—seeming logical and rational explanations for what the old gods had achieved. Ningal let it slide, as she didn’t care to quibble at this glorious moment.
“Does the Earth ship possess any more missiles?” Ningal said.
“From our observation,” the Watch Officer said, “the warship only had five offensive missiles. The rest are defensive ones.”
“Am I right in noticing this ship has traded places and is now in the forefront of the attack?”
“You are correct.” The Watch Officer pointed at another Valiant.
The officer manipulated his control panel.
The screen’s view switched, showing pulse detonations from both Earth ships.
“The enemy has begun violent braking maneuvers,” the Watch Officer said. “But it is clear to us on the bridge that the Earthlings are ripe for the fall. The old gods have driven them mad so that we may destroy them and take their planet.”
“Yes,” Ningal said, glad he’d said that. “You have been listening to my talks, have you not?”
The Watch Officer inclined his head. “I have, my Queen.”
That ignited Ningal as her heart swelled with pride. Words began to flow: “You are well versed in the new theories that are gripping us as revelation upon revelation comes to us. Because this is the last of the system’s major planets, it is a portal to the old gods. They have given us gifts like the fire and light from the old world. We will use that to build a civilization that will crush the Vims for all eternity. We shall rise up as a renewed people and conquer one star system after another.”
Ningal turned away, overcome by the fervor of her epiphany. She had learned so much this past year. Let the pathetic, mad Earthlings come. The victory here would show all the Valiants, and maybe even her son would see the light. Perhaps Assur would journey in pilgrimage and ask her forgiveness for the way he had treated her. Assur had thought to exile her upon the Akkad, but she had turned that around. No, the old gods had turned it around and enlightened her and her acolytes in the old ways. Now the old gods were granting them victory so they would stand at the pinnacle of Valiant society as it always should have been.
I am the last of the original People, Ningal told herself. I am the last, and as I pass the torch of authority onto this new, vigorous, powerful, Valiant generation or generations, I will do so as I give them the words of the old gods. In this way, they may flourish in the new star system.
Ningal was so overcome by these religious insights that the acolytes surrounded her and began to sing hymns of victory.
At last, Ningal waved them back, smiling apologetically at the Watch Officer and his men.
The Watch Officer had bowed his head and clasped his hands in proper reverence. Some of the others watched disapprovingly.
“Thank you,” Ningal told the Watch Officer. She would remember those who disproved. “How soon until the Earthlings are ready to engage directly against the shrine of Akkad?”
“By my calculations,” the Watch Officer said, “they have fifty more days of deceleration. Then they should be in the range of our main particle beam cannon.”
Ningal nodded. “We shall begin praying for victory. I do not want you to rely solely on the power of the old gods, however. Do not think they will do all the work. You must train and run exercises. In fact, I ask that you prepare three military plans of action. Show them to me, and I will let the old gods decide which is best.”
The Watch Officer bowed deeply from the waist. “We will train to our utmost so that we can give another glorious victory to our People in this new star system. We hope the old gods will settle here and be pleased with our actions.”
“Good,” Ningal said. “That is very good. Until next we speak, Watch Officer, I commend you on your actions and devotion to the old gods.”
“Thank you, Old Queen Mother. I will do as you command.”
“Yes,” Ningal said with a smile, “I know you will.”
-63-
SATURN
JANUARY 2064
Two Orion ships that had left from Earth orbit, already traveling faster than any Earth vessel in history, accelerated again as 0.05-kiloton nuclear devices dropped from the chutes and detonated behind the pusher plates.
WHAM
WHAM
WHAM
Several seconds passed.
WHAM
WHAM
WHAM
Another few seconds passed.
WHAM
WHAM
WHAM
These two Orion vessels were completely computer and AI automated, robotic vessels meant to sacrifice themselves for the good of humanity.
The two nuclear pulse propulsion warships had whipped around Jupiter some months ago and increased velocity for Saturn.
Now, instead of any prolonged braking, the Orion ships accelerated yet again. This acceleration meant they reached the vicinity of Saturn a month before the Georgy Zhukov and George Patton reached Neptune.
The guiding AIs had detected the enemy vessels. Those three vessels had come out a short distance from the three largest moons of Saturn. As yet, the enemy vessels had not taken any hostile actions to the approaching Orion ships.
Following their programming, the AIs made their calculations, taking into account orbital and gas giant mechanics, distances, velocities and any other peculiarities space brought to the subject.
On each Orion vessel, a large bay hatch opened. In each ship, a magnetic railgun targeted Titan, in particular the industrial sites on the second-largest moon in the Solar System.
A robot arm placed a hardened chunk of black ice surrounded by a skeletal metal jacket into the railgun slot. Seconds later, the railgun activated. The big chunk of black ice with the metal jacket sped along the track and ejected out the open bay door.
Small timed explosions took place. The skeletal metal jacket blew off the black ice. The explosions left indentations in the ice, but that was all. The shedding of the skeletal metal jacket did not affect the trajectory of the black ice berg.
Each Orion ship launched four such black-ice projectiles. Inside each black-as-sin-ice boulder was a large nuclear bomb. The bombs would detonate upon impact.
The black ice was cold, had no exhaust signature or radiation count, and thus would likely continue on its course until impact or until someone or something visibly saw it. That, of course, would prove difficult given its color.
The nuclear bombs were the last ditch assault upon Titan, even though they were launched first. They would also be the last to reach Titan, an afterthought possibly.
Soon, the two Orion ships accelerated one last time for this round. In no time, the two nuclear pulse propulsion warships passed the black-ice bombs, heading into battle against the three alien warships.
***
Aboard the teardrop-shaped Enforcer Enkidu, Chief Marshal Assur and his aides studied the disposition of the Earth warships.
Each of the nuclear pulse propulsion warships were near the size of the Enkidu. The other three Valiant spaceships were half the size of the enforcer, although similarly shaped. The thruster ports in all the Valiant spaceships were in the narrowest part of the ships.
“Start spraying,” Assur said.
From the tanks of the Enkidu, aerosols began spraying. They spread out as the officer in charge continued to apply them to space.
In half an hour’s time, all four ships were hidden from the approaching enemy by the vast aerosol cloud.
Assur gave the next order.
The four warships rotated and braked hard in the direction they were traveling, with the fusion engines pouring it on. Slowly, the Enkidu first and then the others, the four warships started moving toward the moons of Saturn instead of leaving them.
The nearest moon was Iapetus, with Titan behind it and then massive ringed Saturn.
The Enkidu led the squadron behind Iapetus in relation to the approaching nuclear pulse propulsion vessels.
The surface of Iapetus held flocks of Valiant missiles ready to launch as well as two sensor stations.
Time passed, one hour, two—then big Earth missiles tore through the aerosol cloud. The missile bore down on the position the Valiant spaceships had vacated.
“Predictable,” Assur said. “Launch four fragmentation missiles in their paths.”
Soon, four slender missiles launched from Iapetus. Each had large bulbous nosecones. The missiles sped toward the streaking Earth missiles.
“Do you detect any active countermeasures on the Earth missiles?” Assur asked an electronic warfare officer.
“Negative, Chief Marshal.”
Assur shook his head at the Earthlings’ primitive battle technology and basic strategy.
The big Earth missiles had a much greater velocity than anything else did.
“Detonate the fragmentation missiles,” Assur said.
The main missile officer did so by pressing switches.
Seconds later, the four missiles detonated. It wasn’t a spectacular nuclear detonation, but a more ordinary one. That detonation spread fragmentation bomblets in all directions in front of the zooming Earth missiles.
A minute passed, two, three, four—
The first fragmentation bomblet—a giant grenade—exploded in front of the zooming Earth missile.
The Earth missile roared into steel fragments, shredding the armored nosecone but not piercing it. More bomblets exploded in its path. Those steel fragments—
The Earth missile’s nuclear payload detonated. The flash and blast took out hordes of the bomblets and metal pieces around it. That created a free zone.
But there were more frag bomblets from other Iapetus-launch missiles until all the present Earth missiles had detonated, transforming their mass into energy. The first Earth assault had failed miserably.
Assur knew the better strategy for the enemy would have been to send the nuclear payloads against the aerosol cloud. The nuclear pulse propulsion warships needed to see in order to make the correct decisions.
Now, the two Orion ships burst through the aerosol cloud. Almost immediately, more big missiles launched from them.
More frag missiles rose upon plumes of fiery exhausts from the Iapetus surface. This part of the space battle was a matter of mass and numbers, as to who had more.
It turned out that the Valiants had more, as the Orion ships ran out of their offensive missiles. A quarter of the original fragmentation bomb missiles still waited on the Saturn moon.
“Move us into position,” Assur said.
The Enkidu used Iapetus, coming just over the horizon of the moon, like a sniper leaning out to take a potshot. The heaviest particle beam cannon on the Enkidu powered up and flashed its beam.
This wasn’t a laser, a hot light. The cannon accelerated subatomic particles to high speeds and directed them to a target. The beam caused damage through kinetic energy and the disrupter effects of the particles themselves.
The Enkidu’s particle beam chewed through the Earth warship’s armored nosecone. It took seconds—the particle beam burst through, smashing into the interior of the enemy warship.
The beam must have struck something critical. An interior detonation took place. Had the particle beam struck ordnance? The possibility existed. The explosions caused shredding to the interior and then smashed through the plates. Nuclear bombs must have gone critical. They began to blast.
In seconds, a large chunk of the first Orion ship turned into space junk and heavy mass. That mass continued its journey toward Titan.
Unfortunately, for humanity, the Enkidu’s officers learned fast.
Now, three particle beams bored into the last enemy warship. The ship launched defensive missiles. Some crossed the particle beam paths, but only for seconds.
Soon enough, the other Orion ship had become slagged junk heading for Titan.
Assur laughed, jabbing a fist into the air. He ordered new launches.
This time, bigger missiles lofted from Iapetus, roaring into space on orange plumes of fire.
These missiles did not explode and spew fragments. They hit the massed junk and detonated in a fiery hell of nuclear power. The warheads devoured mass, turned it into energy and heat. They did it the way fire turned wood into ash and smoke on Earth.
Assur was making sure the inert mass of the Orion ships didn’t crash onto Titan and cause destruction to the industrial and mining sites.
“You did it, Chief Marshal,” an officer shouted on the Enkidu’s bridge.
“Let us sing a paean of victory,” Assur said.
They sang, elated at their victory. The pent up emotions caused them to erupt into new victory chants. This was a glorious day indeed. The singing lasted over thirty minutes.
As the officers on the bridge finished the final song, word flashed from Titan. Dark bombards had hit the surface, causing nuclear blasts.
Dizzy with disbelief, Assur stepped to the communications screen. “What are you talking about? Show me.”
The screen showed nuclear eruptions occurring from Titan’s surface. One came within a kilometer from a mine, poisoning the area with heavy radiation.
“How can this be happening?” Assur shouted, feeling as if he would vomit. Was this some unknown technology from the Earthlings?
There was hurried debate until a sensor officer on Titan played back video. He visibly detected a black-ice bomb coming down seconds before impact and detonation.
“Sweep the area for more black objects!” Assur shouted. He was sick with the possibility of dread loss.
The Titan defenders did so.
Assur sat with a thud onto his command chair on the bridge of the Enkidu.
“The Earthlings are tricky,” an officer said.
Assur looked up at the Valiant. He nodded. “They are, or were. But it doesn’t matter. Their targeting was inferior.”
So far, it was inferior, Assur realized. Were there more of those vile black bombs?
“Shall we sing another paean of victory?” the officer asked.
“No,” Assur said. “The old gods helped us this time. We allowed ourselves to underestimate the Earthlings and almost paid the worst price for our arrogance.”
“We annihilated them,” the officer said.
Assur forced himself to smile. “Yes. That’s right. We annihilated the fools. Thus, we are going to win the solar system for our own.”
Assur forced himself to speak with confidence, but he realized the Earthlings might have won the war even though they lost their warships. The black-ice bombs were a clever idea. He must never forget this lesson.
