The Solar Warden battle group was in position. Ten carriers, in a line, with Nautilus–the flagship–in the center. One hundred and eighty TR-3Bs flew defensive counter air. This was Solar Warden’s last line of defense–directly in the White Whale’s flight path–daring it to cross.
Travelling at FTL, it could have swept through Solar Warden’s defenses and decimated them like an indifferent human swatting a hornet before it could sting them. But like some form of perverse feline, the White Whale decided to stop and play with the mouse before devouring it.
The massive enemy craft dropped out of FTL a mere 400 miles from its adversaries. Thousands of saucers, accompanied by 50 Leviathan class mother ships, flew support. An alien armada, larger than anyone in the Solar Warden Program could have imagined.
The comm was silent. No one offered a comment, an observation, a satirical remark. All thoughts were on one thing. In an hour, would any of them still be alive? The comm clicked.
“Commence firing.”
Weapons leapt to life on both sides as the opposing air wings swept in to engage each other. The space between the two forces was thick with weapons fire–streaks of directed energy and particle beams flashed on both sides. Missiles wove their way through the confusion to impact helplessly on the White Whale’s and LCMS’s shields. Saucers and black triangles spun and whirled around each other in an outer-space dance of death, as rising numbers on both sides were destroyed. Their decimation appeared like the flashing of fireflies on a midsummer’s eve.
On the outer edge of the Solar Warden line, Avarice’s shields caved and the carrier exploded in an incandescent ball of flame. A few minutes later, Parallax followed. Then one of the Leviathan class mother ships split apart in a brilliant display of pyrotechnics. A cheer went out across the comm. One down. Forty-nine to go.
Rapace followed Parallax, then Destrier. Diminished weapons fire was having no effect on the White Whale while the LCMS’s swept in and surrounded the remaining six carriers.
With the exception of Hutch and Scarecrow, the entire Nautilus air wing had been eliminated. Nutcracker, Sheena–all of them gone. The remaining TR-3Bs formed up on the Nautilus pilots and together they swept towards the ring of enemy mother ships pounding the remaining Solar Warden carriers with unrelenting weapons fire.
Scarecrow switched to a private comm channel. “Chief, Scarecrow. Status, over.”
“Brutus is all tucked in and ready to go, Commahnder. Just waiting on Miss Stacey to work her magic, over.”
“Stacey. Status, over.”
“Sir, we’ve entered the spatial and temporal coordinates, but …”
“But what?”
“Sir, the transporter is on standby. All available power, including life support, has been redirected to weapons and shields. I’m trying to get power back to the transporter by hacking in through a sub-system, but–”
“But nothing! You’ve got to get it working!”
“I’m trying! All I need is a few seconds of power. Then the Chief can launch the warhead.”
“Commander, shields are down to 60 percent.”
“Try to firm them up, Cody. Draw power from any system except weapons.”
The air wing had changed course and was sweeping to engage a swarm of saucers when Hutch’s TR-3B was struck by multiple directed energy blasts, shattering his shield canopy. A micro-second later, the CAG’s TR-3B exploded into a million tiny shards of molten metal.
“Hutch!” Scarecrow screamed. He watched in horror as the last two carriers flanking Nautilus–Dreadnaught and Ironclad–broke apart in twin explosions. All of the enemy fire was now directed at the lone surviving Solar Warden carrier.
“Stacey! We’re out of time! You’ve got to send it now!”
“Sir, I’m–”
Nautilus took the pounding for a moment. Then its shields flashed and collapsed. Directed energy beams from countless sources tore into its hull, slicing it up like a baguette. The carrier morphed into a ball of expanding, white hot flame.
Scarecrow’s temporary SO, Cody Matheson was unable to strengthen their TR-3B’s shields. A direct hit penetrated the weakened shields, tore into the black triangle’s hull, and struck Scarecrow in the torso, severing his body as the tactical spacecraft around him broke apart.
In the center of the massive alien saucer, the “White Whale” as the humans called it, was a chamber. A vast chamber, where senior council members of the reptilian race would gather to debate their strategies against the puny humans.
A parliament, if you will.
At this time, the council, consisting of the reptilian commander and his highest ranking leaders, were gathered to discuss the current strategy employed against the humans.
They agreed that everything was moving forward according to plan. They had captured a TR-3B and implanted the crew with biochips, and with the assistance of their spy aboard Parallax, used them to attempt destroy the human spacecraft. The operation was a failure, but it had the desired effect. He had also helped them successfully transport a team onto the carrier where they wreaked havoc until they were discovered and stopped.
The specially built tactical saucer almost succeeded in destroying the Bird Frightener, and now it left a path of destruction while it waited for a second opportunity to engage the human enemy.
Their current plans included the assault on the human’s base located on Mars. Their forward staging base in the Proxima Centauri star system had been destroyed by the Solar Warden humans, and instead of taking time to rebuild, they decided the existing base on Mars would serve them better. However, they needed to capture it intact and occupy it, and that meant a ground assault. It was also decided that a fleet in orbit would be required to defend the ground forces from any response by the fleet of Solar Warden hive ships.
The one they served, the Prince, was not a patient taskmaster. He demanded perfection, and when there were delays, his punishments were swift and lethal. He had formed them, his chief captains had trained them, provided them with their technology, and set their agenda for the conquest of the feeble smooth-skins. It was his plan they were following, and they had to ensure it unfolded as he intended. The consequences of failure were more horrific that even their hideous, malevolent minds could imagine.
They never should have agreed to share their technology with the pitiful humans. Their plans of conquest would have been so much easier had they not agreed to an exchange of tech for the right to abduct and experiment on their insignificant race. A miscalculation on their part, but not all that noteworthy. They needed access to the humans to conduct their experiments, not to mention their life-force that kept the reptilians and the grays alive. The plan demanded they appear benevolent. The exchange was part of their ploy. Their deception. Regardless, they were still able to move forward with their strategies, without retribution from the one they served.
The massive ship, the White Whale, more than 14 miles in diameter, had been pinging the human’s sensor nets all around their star system, dropping off hive ships then picking them up again to confuse and confound. The humans knew a full scale invasion was coming. No matter, they would attack the Mars Base and overrun it while their forces in orbit would engage and forestall the human’s Solar Warden fleet.
The smooth-skins were so pathetic. They thought they had gained victories over the much superior reptilians, when in fact they were no more than pitiful rodents caught in a maze, an insignificant amusement performing for the pleasure of a far more advanced and important species. Aside from the life-force the reptilians needed to stay alive, they failed to understand why the one they served would be so interested in such an inferior race of doleful beings, but it was not their place to question his motives. It was best to simply obey.
The reptilian overlords were engaged in a heated discussion about the division of resources once the invasion was complete. They dropped out of FTL in the Wolf 359 star system to deliver two more hive ships to the pair that were there waiting for them.
Their heated squabble was interrupted by a 12 foot square of rainbow-colored light, flashing as it appeared in their midst. All discussion ceased as every eye turned to stare at the abrupt intrusion. Almost instantly, a massive, oval-shaped object was ejected from the sheet of light to careen into a large group of the small gray-skinned retainers, knocking them over like bowling pins and crushing many of them. Less than three seconds after the square of light appeared, it flickered, flashed and vanished as quickly as it had come.
One of the gray-skinned minions got up and stared at an ARI display on the back of the colossal, red anodized, half-egg-shaped monstrosity. It had less than a second to ponder the objects’ inexplicable appearance before it detonated in an incandescent flash.
The mythical White Whale, with all of its ships, its countless weapons and its occupants, along with all their plans of domination and destruction, vaporized in a moment of time.
The Other turned as she was interrupted by the small gray-skinned minion. Her soft blue hue morphed to red as her countenance changed from a lovely, beautiful, benevolent female to … something else. As it finished delivering its news of the White Whale’s unexpected demise, the minion dropped to its knees, not daring to look up at the monstrous being before it, fearful of retribution.
The Other snarled in rage as she snapped her hand towards the tiny gray-skinned biological robot. A red flame shot from her hand, vaporizing the hapless creature. Her arm dropped to her side as she faded back into the guise of the gentle, azure-hued female. She stared listless, dumbfounded by the report. Her eyes remained locked at the spot where the scorch mark on the deck was all that was left of the tiny gray alien.
She gazed about the chamber as she pondered how she would explain such a monumental disaster to her overlord, the Prince. The attack force for the assault on Mars was still assembling in the Tau Ceti star system. Soon, they would launch their assault against the human’s base on Mars. There were additional surviving hive ships as well as other assets that could be used to complete their conquest of Earth.
Perhaps I can convince my overlord that all is not lost.
Scarecrow entered his stateroom. He locked the hatch and engaged the portable dampening field device he’d borrowed from Hutch. He sat at his console, pulled out his tablet, setting it on the flat surface as he tapped it twice. The ghostly monitor sprang to life and he engaged the keyboard. Scarecrow then tapped out a passcode and sent an encrypted message. The monitor flashed a familiar face. He sat back as the image addressed him.
“Did it work, Commander?”
“The fact that we’re talking right now indicates it did. Let me confirm. I’ll check the telemetry from my mission to the Wolf system, Sir.” Scarecrow tapped another passcode into the keyboard on his console, and the data appeared on one side of the monitor. The Solar Warden officers scrutinized it for several moments.
“From what I can tell here, yes, we were successful. The White Whale was destroyed at the precise moment the two Leviathan class mother ships did two weeks ago. Let me check the sensor grid to see if everything is back where it belongs.”
He keyed in yet another passcode, and live sensor data flashed in place of the previous telemetry. Scarecrow shot a satisfied smile at the ghostly figure on his screen.
“Yes, Sir. All our assets are right where they’re supposed to be.”
“Good,” the figure on Scarecrow’s monitor said. “After I sign off, I’ll delete all of our communications on this subject, and then I’ll go in and erase all of the logs that would reveal any of your actions in this matter, Commander. Now only myself, you and your team will ever know what you’ve done.”
“How does that work, Sir? I’m new to this whole time-travel thing.”
“The dynamics of temporal mechanics are confusing at the best of times, Commander. Somewhat like quantum physics. That’s one of the reasons we’ve made it illegal to even attempt to tamper with it.”
“Well Sir, I want to thank you for helping us with this ‘mission’ …”
“When I sign off, I expect neither one of us will mention this conversation ever took place. I consider us to be even now, Commander Richardson. You saved my daughter’s life by rescuing her before the enemy could permanently alter her DNA. In return, I’ve provided you with the arming code for the warhead, and in so doing, I’ve allowed you to break Solar Warden’s Prime Directive, to use your ‘Star Trek’ vernacular.
“But if you ever come to me again with another request like this, I’ll bring the full weight of the EDF uniform code of military justice down around your ears, regardless of your considerable contributions to the Program. You’ll spend a very long time, alone and forgotten at the bottom of a deep, dark hole. Do I make myself clear, Commander?”
“Crystal, Sir.”
“Good. Maddox out.”
The screen went blank, and Scarecrow deactivated his tablet. He sat and stared at the empty bulkhead behind it for some time.