Ep.#8 - "Celestia: CV-02" (17 page)

“Good,” the admiral said. “It’s a lot easier to replace buildings and guns than it is fighters and missiles. Any word on the Celestia?”

“The data cores arrived at the OAP a few minutes ago and are being moved to the Celestia now. The officer of the watch on board says they are at twenty-five percent of their overall fuel capacity. They’re spinning up their reactor now, but they will need at least thirty minutes before they can depart.”

“I wanted that ship out of there as soon as the cores were on board!” the admiral said.

“They don’t even have a pilot yet, Mike. Give them some time,” Rear Admiral Duncan said.

“Time is something we do not have, Marty. You tell that man that he doesn’t need his reactor to be at full power in order to leave. As soon as he’s got enough power flowing, he can thrust out of there and move away. Once his reactor is up to sufficient levels, he can fire up his mains and get under way.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

Four Jung frigates, their sunward sides glistening, came up over the moon’s horizon and accelerated toward Earth. A minute later, the four ships cut their main engines and rotated ninety degrees, bringing themselves into a sideways flight attitude in order to bring all missile batteries to bear. In perfect unison, all three missile batteries on each of the four frigates fired four missiles. The barrage of missiles streaked away from the frigates in a perfect line abreast and began slowly spreading out into a wider, more uneven line.

The Jung frigates slowly rotated their noses back onto their flight paths once again and began to disperse slightly as well while they continued on their course toward Earth.

“Multiple targets!” the Intrepid’s sensor operator announced. “Tracking forty-eight high-speed objects launched from the frigates leaving the moon! Probable missile launch!”

“Can you identify their targets?” Captain Christopoulos asked.

“I’ll need a minute,” the sensor operator said.

“Combat, Captain,” the captain called through his comm-set.

“
Captain, go for combat,
” Commander Nasser answered.

“Load all missile launchers with fragmenting interceptors and target those forty-eight incoming targets. As soon as you launch the first wave of intercepts, load anti-ship and fire the second wave on the frigates themselves.”

“
Aye, sir.
”

“Objects have been positively ID’d, sir. They’re missiles.”

“Their targets?”

“The OAP, sir, every single one of them.”

“Time to impact?”

“Twenty minutes, sir.”

“Missiles away,” the tactical officer reported.

Captain Christopoulos glanced at the forward view screen as sixteen of his own missiles streaked away from the Intrepid en route to intercept the incoming enemy missiles. “Time to intercept?”

“Ten minutes,” the tactical officer reported.

“Comms, notify the OAP and contact Fleet Command. Let them know we are attempting to intercept and destroy the incoming missiles. We’ll deal with the frigates as soon as we take out that first wave of ordnance.”

* * *

Luis moved quickly through the massive corridors that ran between the OAP’s many hangar bays. He wove in and out of the technicians and platform personnel along the way. Kyle, Devyn, and Tilly followed closely behind.

“Do you have any idea where you’re going?” Devyn wondered as she followed Luis through the chaos.

Luis stopped at a map display attached to a column along the side bulkhead of the corridor. He quickly scanned the map. “The cargo boarding tunnel is closest!” he announced. Without waiting for approval from his friends, he turned and started running again, following the directions from the map.

As Luis turned down a corridor, he nearly ran into a line of carts carrying large cases that were rushing toward the Celestia’s cargo boarding tunnel. The carts were being hurriedly pushed by flight personnel wearing patches from the European Fleet Academy. As they passed, Luis did a double take at the pale, slender, nervous-looking civilian that seemed to be following the carts as well.

A moment later, they arrived at the entrance to the Celestia’s cargo gate and headed down the long boarding tunnel. The tunnel was filled with men and women pushing carts of equipment and supplies into the ship as quickly as possible. Others were moving away from the ship along the outer edges of the tunnel.

“Whoa! Hold up!” the lieutenant at the Celestia’s cargo hatch said, holding up his hand.

“We missed our ship. We were told to report to the Celestia instead,” Luis told him as he panted.

“Rating?”

“Huh?”

“What’s your rating? What are you trained for?”

“Tactical,” Luis answered between breaths.

“Environmental systems,” Devyn reported.

“Engineering,” Tilly answered as the lieutenant pointed to him next.

“Weapons maintenance,” Kyle said.

“You three enter here,” the lieutenant ordered, pointing at everyone except Luis. “You, Ensign, are at the wrong gate.”

“What?” Luis looked confused.

“You need to go back out, go up four levels, and head forward to the personnel boarding gate. They need you on the bridge,” the lieutenant explained.

“Why can’t I just board here?” Luis asked.

“This ship isn’t finished,” the lieutenant told him. “There’s no inside passageway that connects the main drive with the command deck.”

“What?” Luis said.

“Most of the forward section is still unfinished. There’s a lot of unpressurized, open space between us and the command deck,” the lieutenant explained, “which is where you need to report.”

“Can she even fly?” Kyle wondered.

“How the hell do we operate a ship that…” Devyn began.

The lieutenant held up on hand, palm forward to cut her off mid-sentence. “She can fly,” he assured them, “and we’ve got pressure suits to get from engineering to the command deck.”

Alert sirens began sounding from the OAP end of the boarding tunnel, causing them all to look back down the tunnel.

“
Alert! Alert! This station is under attack! All unnecessary personnel report to the hangar deck for immediate evacuation! Damage control teams, man your stations!
”

Luis looked at his friends, fear and uncertainty in their eyes. They all looked exactly like he felt at the moment.

“Don’t just stand their staring at each other!” the lieutenant said. “Get to your posts!”

Luis looked at his friends again. “Good luck.” He turned and ran back down the boarding tunnel as his friends entered the ship.

Luis could hear the lieutenant yelling instructions at the fleet personnel entering the ship as he headed back out the cargo boarding tunnel.

“Stay away from hatches marked with red paint! Those lead to unpressurized areas…”

The lieutenant’s voice faded away as Luis neared the end of the tunnel. He again noticed the pale, frightened civilian as he followed the carts down the tunnel toward the Celestia. The poor man looked even more frightened than he had in the corridor a minute ago.

Luis found himself back in the OAP. He looked about, finding an access ladder farther down the corridor. He made his way across the corridor and down somewhat until he reached the ladder. As he stepped up to the ladder, he noticed the gravity change line on the deck at the edge of the tunnel. He reached out and grabbed the ladder, feeling the sudden lack of gravity on his hands as they passed the line on the deck. He had heard about the zero-gravity ladders but had never used one. He looked up. The ladder went up at least a few hundred feet, connecting several levels of the massive assembly platform. He stepped across the line, pulling his body into the ladder as he floated, weightless, in front of the ladder. Remembering what he had heard about using zero-G ladders, he pulled himself sharply upward and let go, keeping his hands on either side of the ladder to guide himself as he floated upward. A few more pulls got him ascending at an acceptable rate. By the time he was passing the second level above him, he found himself wishing he had the time to go all the way to the top and then back down, as the OAP was the only place that had such ladders.

As Luis passed the third level up, he began sliding his hands along the ladder rail to slow his rate of ascent enough to grab the ladder rungs and bring himself to a stop at the correct level. After carefully positioning himself, he turned and faced away from the ladder. With left foot and left hand on the ladder, he stepped out and placed his right foot on the deck. He could feel the gravity pull his foot down, and he pushed off the ladder, transitioning smoothly from zero gravity to near normal gravity.

He turned to his left and continued forward. The corridor was narrower on this level, and the ceilings were lower. He made his way forward, weaving between the people hurrying to report to their stations in response to the alert horns that still sounded, or to get to the hangar deck for evacuation. He found the personnel boarding gate that led to the Celestia’s command deck and followed two others, a man and a woman, down the tunnel. It was much longer than the cargo boarding tunnel, as the Celestia was narrower in her forward section than she was aft. The other difference was that the upper two-thirds of the tunnel were clear, giving him a full view of the ship as he approached her. The Celestia was smaller than the Intrepid by at least a third, and she was much sleeker. Her curves were gentle, tapering inward at her midsection before suddenly jutting outward at her massive main drive section on her aft end. Her exterior looked complete, her hull true and clean. She did not sport the usual light and dark grays of the other fleet ships, only a flat medium gray undercoat that appeared somewhat uneven in sections, as if its application was unfinished. He could also see into the forward end of the outboard sections of her main drive, into the deep, forward caverns that shrouded her deceleration thrust ports, as well as her forward torpedo tubes. She didn’t even have her name or designation painted on her hull yet.

Luis made it to the boarding hatch, falling in behind two other fleet personnel, both of whom were reporting for duty on board the partially completed ship. On the ship’s hull, to the left of her boarding hatch, someone was finishing up a quick stenciling job. The technician finished applying the black paint and pulled away the stencil, revealing the words ‘Celestia: CV-02’. It was hardly official, and it lacked the customary logo that was unique to each ship in the fleet, yet its mere presence spoke of the pride that her makeshift crew was already taking in their ship.

One by one, the fleet personnel in the line reported their area of expertise to the officer at the hatch and received their instructions. Most were assigned to the bridge, with two of them assigned elsewhere in the command deck.

“Delaveaga, tactical,” Luis declared.

“Report to the bridge,” the ensign at the hatch told him as he entered his name in the ship’s crew roster. “End of the corridor, turn left.”

* * *

The backup presidential shuttle touched down on one of the many landing pads at the airfield of the United Earth Republic’s headquarters in Geneva. Eli Scott, the eldest son of the new President of the North American Union, and his chief of staff looked out the window at the terminal in the distance, noting the increased security, as well as the presence of armored vehicles. Combat airships roamed the night skies overhead, their powerful searchlights sweeping the compound below them looking for threats to the security of the Earth’s main seat of government.

The attendant appeared at the door and moved closer to Eli. “Sir, the flight crew was wondering what your orders were.”

“Tell them we wait,” Eli said.

The attendant looked at him, trying to hide his confusion. “Yes, sir.” He turned to head back when Eli moved his left hand, revealing a small weapon in his right. Eli raised the weapon and took aim at the man, firing a small probe into him. The attendant fell to the floor, spasmed once, and went unconscious.

Eli rose, looking behind him toward the doorway to make sure no one had seen the man fall. He disconnected the nearly invisible wire that had transferred the incapacitating shock from his weapon to the probe, leaving it in a pile on the floor next to the man. Next, he pulled a large, plastic zip tie from his pocket and secured the man’s hands together. He repeated the process for the attendant’s feet before moving to the door at the back of the compartment.

Eli ascended the stairs to the shuttle’s upper level in routine fashion, entering the communications compartment just as he had done earlier in the flight. There were two technicians on duty. He nodded at the one nearest him so as not to raise alarm. He raised his silent weapon, first firing a probe into the nearest technician, then another into the second. Both men were down before they knew what had happened, and there had been no more than a thud to be heard by the flight crew farther forward.

Knowing that the flight crew would not open the door for anyone other than the attendant, Eli removed a small device from his pocket. He pressed the device against the cockpit door and held it firmly in place as he activated it. A small, but powerful, laser from inside the device quickly and silently bored a hole in the door. As soon as it did so, the device injected an odorless gas into the cockpit.

The indicator light on the device turned off, signifying that it had completed its function. Eli tossed it aside and headed aft again, taking a seat at the communications console. He retrieved one last device from his pocket. He pulled a small cord from the device and plugged it into the console. After keying in some instructions, he pressed the transmit button before rising from his seat to bind the two unconscious communications technicians.

* * *

“Main gate! Surbeck!” the sergeant responded over the comms. The crowds outside the gate were chanting and yelling at the top of their lungs as they waved signs and banners over their heads.

“
Sergeant! We just received word! EDF in Port-Gentil is under attack. Jung ships in orbit have dispatched landing ships that are headed our way. Attack is imminent! I repeat: attack is imminent!
”

“Understood! Any idea what direction they’ll be coming from?”

“
We’ll keep them from landing on top of us with our rail guns! Watch for an attack from outside the perimeter!
”

“What about these goddamn demonstrators?” Sergeant Surbeck asked.

“Warn them of the attack! Order them to disperse! You are weapons free at this point, but check your targets before you fire! Let’s keep the number of civilian casualties low! We have enough trouble on our hands right now!”

“Understood, sir!” The sergeant handed the handset back to the comm operator. “Son of a bitch,” he cursed. He turned to the corporal standing nearby. “Give me the PA mic and pump me through the main gate speakers,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” the corporal answered, handing him the microphone.

“Attention! Attention!” the sergeant announced over the loudspeakers. “We have just been informed that Jung forces are en route to this location! All civilians are ordered to disperse and seek shelter immediately! I repeat: disperse and seek shelter immediately!” He looked at the crowd. They did not appear to be dispersing. Instead, they had become more vocal and possibly even more violent in their protests.