Read Ep.#8 - "Celestia: CV-02" Online
Authors: Ryk Brown
“I don’t think they believe you, Sergeant,” the corporal said.
“You are in danger if you remain! We cannot guarantee your safety! Disperse and seek shelter immediately! This is your final warning!” He looked again. A few people looked confused. A few others had put down their signs and were moving away. However, the vast majority of the protesters continued on with increased fervor. “Unbelievable,” he mumbled.
“They just don’t get it, do they, Sergeant?” the corporal said with amusement.
Air raid sirens began blaring in the distance from the UER compound behind them. Sergeant Surbeck turned and looked toward the main buildings, then back at the crowd of protesters still pressed up against the main gates, their signs dancing in the air above their heads as they chanted anti-military slogans at the top of their lungs.
“Sergeant!” the comm operator called out. “Command says we’ve got incoming!”
Sergeant Surbeck spun around. “Take cover!” he yelled to the men at the gate. He grabbed the handset from the comm operator and keyed his local command channel that communicated with only the men under his command. “All main gate stations! Incoming ordnance! Take cover! Take cover!” A distant whistle pierced through the sound of the chants and yells, becoming louder with each passing second. “INCOMING!” the sergeant yelled as he crouched down inside the reinforced guard post. An explosion rocked the ground as the first precision weapons fell from orbit and struck the United Earth Republic compound. Glass shattered and sprayed across the sergeant and his men as they remained low and tucked against the heaviest concrete wall. The first explosion lit up the entire main gate area as it leveled the nearby administrative building. The second explosion destroyed the security barracks and operations center while the third one hit the motor pool. Secondary explosions from the fuel storage tanks rocked the area.
The sergeant peeked through the opening that had been filled with security glass a moment before. The crowd was gone, except for a few civilians who lay bleeding on the ground, hit by flying debris. “I guess they get it now,” the sergeant mumbled as another whistle was heard. More explosions shook the area as at least six more weapons struck the compound. The sergeant remained tucked down low, praying that the next bomb didn’t strike his gate.
* * *
Eli came down the stairs from the upper floor of the backup presidential shuttle. He returned to his seat in the forward cabin, stepping over the still unconscious attendant along the way. He looked outside the window at the distant buildings as they exploded one by one, the result of the Jung orbital bombardment. He smiled.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The presidential shuttle touched down on the secure landing pad in the courtyard of the North American Union capitol building in Winnipeg. Armed guards in full combat armor roamed the grounds and patrolled the nearby rooftops as combat helicopters circled farther out.
President Scott quickly disembarked moments after the shuttle touched down. Flanked by protective agents and armed guards, he moved quickly across the pad and down the walkway leading to the main building.
“Mister President,” General Bergeron greeted as he met the president halfway.
“What’s our status?” President Scott inquired as they continued toward the building.
“The Jung started orbital bombardment a few minutes ago. So far, they’re concentrating on military targets. They’ve attacked all the EDF academy spaceports and ground-based defenses. They’ve also targeted the UER compound in Geneva.”
President Scott looked visibly shaken at the news of the UER bombardment. He had left Geneva only a few hours ago. “Has anyone heard from Eli? He was in the backup shuttle.”
“No, sir. The backup shuttle dropped down below radar just after we received word about the Jung entering the system. We assume the pilot was trying to stay off radar just in case there were Jung operatives on the surface.”
“Yeah, we did the same thing,” the president said. “It was a hell of a ride.”
“Yes, sir, I’m sure it was,” the general agreed.
“What’s next?” the president inquired as they entered the building.
“All our forces are on alert, and we launched most of our fighters and tankers just before the bombardment began. We didn’t want to get caught with all our forces on the ground. Fleet Command reports that the Jung are landing forces. There are more than a hundred ships coming our way: fighters, bombers, landers, you name it.”
“Why us?”
“It’s not just us, sir,” the general explained as they went through the security checkpoint outside the entrance to the underground command facility. “They’re landing forces on all the major continents.”
“You said more than a hundred?”
“A hundred and counting when I left. That could be up to several hundred by now.”
“At least we have a plan, General,” the president said as they stepped into the elevator.
“Yes, sir, we do,” the general assured him as the elevator doors began to close. “But first, we have to get you secured.”
* * *
Marlene Scott looked out the window of the shuttle as it sped along just above the tree tops. “Do we have to fly this low?” she asked the agent sitting next to her.
“Yes, ma’am, to avoid detection.”
“How much longer until we arrive in Winnipeg?” she asked, trying to hide her nervousness.
“About ten minutes,” the agent said, looking at his watch.
The shuttle suddenly banked hard to port, its engines screaming as it turned. Mrs. Scott’s eyes went wide, her fear no longer hidden. “What’s going on?”
The agent listened intently to his ear piece. “Understood,” replied. “Ma’am, Winnipeg is under attack from orbit. They believe hostile forces are incoming. We have to divert to another location for now.”
“Oh, God,” she gasped. “What about my husband?”
“He’s secure in the underground command center, ma’am. We’ll get you to him just as soon as it’s safe.”
“What about my children, my grandchildren…”
“They’re all being rounded up and taken to safety, Mrs. Scott.”
She looked out the window as the shuttle continued its turn. In the distance, she could see flashes of light and columns of smoke coming from the city in the distance as weapons launched from ships in orbit exploded. One question kept running through her mind.
Why?
* * *
The elevator doors opened, and President Scott and his entourage stepped out into the security foyer. The lights flickered several times unexpectedly, and the room shook slightly as if from an earthquake.
President Scott stopped in his tracks. “What the hell was that?” The room shook again. This time the lights went out for several seconds before they came back on. “What’s going on?”
“We need to get you inside, sir,” General Bergeron said. “Now.”
President Scott followed his general’s advice and headed deeper into the facility, passing by the large, vault-like door to the main command center. Inside stood rows of consoles being monitored by military officers and technical experts. On the far wall was a view screen containing a map of North America that displayed the location and status of all NAU forces, as well as the Jung forces coming down from orbit over the continent. The president had not yet been given the tour of this secure facility, as his time in office had been short thus far, but he knew of its existence, as well as its purpose. They were all locked in a command center located several hundred feet below the surface of Winnipeg.
“Report!” the general called out as they entered the command center.
Colonel Jaffey immediately turned to address his commanding officer, as well as his commander-in-chief. “Mister President, General. The capitol building has taken a direct hit, sir.”
“You mean…” the president began, pointing upward.
“Yes, sir.”
“Damage?” the general asked.
“We’ve lost all contact with the capitol building itself. Exterior cameras located outside the compound show that the building is completely destroyed.”
“I assume there is an alternate way out of this facility,” the president said.
“Yes, sir,” the general answered. “There are still two more exits. One comes up a mile away in the basement of one of the transit district buildings. The other is at the end of an underground tunnel that comes up outside the city, in a barn, actually.”
“And if those are destroyed as well?”
“Unlikely, sir. But we also have our own tunnel-boring machines down here. We can tunnel our way out on our own if necessary.”
“Good to know,” the president stated. He looked at the map display. “I assume the blue markers are ours and the red ones are the Jung.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have they landed?”
“No, sir,” the Colonel answered, “not yet. They’re on approach. We believe they are softening up their targets first by bombing them from orbit. Next, their low-level bombers will begin striking secondary targets. After that, we expect they’ll be landing their troops.”
“Where?”
“Based on their current targets, we believe they are concentrating on major seats of government, military assets, and ports of entry along the east coast, the west coast, and the Gulf of Mexico.”
“They’re trying to cut us off from the rest of the world,” the general realized.
“That was Admiral Galiardi’s assessment as well,” the colonel said. “The same thing appears to be happening on other continents. The admiral believes that the Jung want to remove our ability to help one another fight them.”
“But we have aircraft, shuttles…” the president began.
“Those won’t last long, sir,” General Bergeron said. “The Jung have us outnumbered. Maybe not now, but a few more of those big carriers is all it would take to quickly overwhelm our forces. By isolating us from one another, they can more easily control each segment of the population.”
“But why?” the president wondered.
“They’re not looking to exterminate us, Mister President,” the general said. “They mean to use us: our industrial base, our population, our resources… All to increase their own strength. They mean to conquer us completely.”
“And the best way to do that is to remove both our ability and our will to fight,” the colonel added.
“Then we must fight them now while we can,” the president said with conviction.
“Yes, sir,” General Bergeron agreed, “that’s our plan.”
* * *
The whine of the shuttle’s engines increased sharply as they went to full power. Without warning, the protective agent sitting next to Mrs. Scott reached over and pulled the shoulder straps down out of the top edge of her seat, fastening them to her lap belt one by one.
“Secured!” the agent called over his discreet communications system.
“What is going on?” Marlene asked, her eyes wide.
“Hang on,” the agent instructed as he pulled his own shoulder straps down and secured them.
The shuttle pulled into a steep climb and accelerated, pushing them back in their seats. Mrs. Scott clutched her armrests tightly as the shuttle banked hard to starboard and dove.
“What’s wrong?!” she cried out.
“Jung fighters have locked onto us,” the agent told her. “The pilot is taking evasive action.”
A series of
thwumps
emanated from the aft end of the shuttle, after which it snap rolled onto its port side and broke into a hard left turn. Marlene looked out the window. A string of bright lights trailed behind them.
“What are those?”
“Flares,” the agent reported, “to attract heat-seeking missiles.”
The shuttle snap rolled back the other way, pulled its nose up sharply, and turned back to starboard. She heard more
thwumps
from aft. An explosion outside rocked the shuttle, knocking it over and into another dive. Mrs. Scott screamed.
“That was too close!” the agent said. “How long until our fighters arrive?” he asked someone through the communications device in his ear.
The shuttle pulled out of its dive, pitched up slightly, and began rolling over several times in rapid succession as more
thwumps
sounded. The rapid rolling of the shuttle pushed Mrs. Scott upward against her shoulder straps. She felt like she was about to fly out of her seat. The rolling stopped abruptly, and the shuttle turned hard to port and dove once more. Another explosion rocked the ship, nearly shaking them out of their seats. Again Mrs. Scott screamed.
A strange sound, like large rocks striking metal, danced across the top, aft end, and port side of the shuttle, vibrating the entire ship. A loud roar came from the forward end of the shuttle as the two of them were thrown forward, straining against their shoulder straps. Mrs. Scott’s normally perfect hair was thrown forward, whipping about her face uncontrollably as the shuttle decelerated hard. A shadow darkened the cabin momentarily as it passed over them. Mrs. Scott glanced out the starboard windows and saw the twin engines of one of their attackers as it flew past and turned to its right, rolling as it pulled away. Immediately afterward, another shadow passed overhead. She looked to starboard again and saw the familiar sight of NAU fighters chasing after the Jung ship, their cannons blazing as they gave chase.
The shuttle rolled back to starboard and went into a climbing right turn. Again the sound of rocks striking metal, this time walking across the side and top of the cabin and heading forward. A tremendous roar filled the cabin as it was ripped open only a few rows forward of Mrs. Scott and her protective agent. Two staffers in the seats beside the opening were ripped apart from weapons fire, their blood and tissue sent flying about inside the cabin by the violent torrents of air.
The protective agent instinctively reached out with his arm across Mrs. Scott’s torso, leaning in front of her to protect her from the flying debris as well as the bits and pieces of the wounded passengers. The shuttle rolled to the left without warning and began another turn. The agent’s free arm flailed in the air as he tried to grab hold of the damaged seat back in front of them to steady himself. Mrs. Scott grabbed the agent with both arms, pulling him closer to help steady him.
Through the gaping hole in the shuttle’s cabin ahead of her, Mrs. Scott could see another Jung fighter streak past them, two more NAU fighters following closely behind. There was another explosion outside, which again tossed the shuttle about. Several loud clunks accompanied objects striking the outside of the shuttle. Just as the clunks stopped, another even bigger one sounded and shook the shuttle. The aft end of the shuttle slid sharply sideways. A moment later, the whine of the shuttle’s engines abruptly stopped.
The sign at the front of the shuttle’s cabin began displaying a message she had never seen before. ‘Prepare for Crash Landing.’
“Oh, my God,” she exclaimed as the shuttle fell from the sky.
The agent pushed himself away from her, realizing the shuttle was about to go down. “Listen to me! Sit straight back! Press your head into the headrest! Hold the armrests firmly. Airbags in the seats and overhead will deploy on impact!”
She glanced at the agent. He meant well, but she could see the fear in his eyes as well. And this was a man who was trained for such situations. She worried about her husband. Who would care for him? Who would keep his life and home in order so he could do his work? Who would counsel their children when the demands of parenthood overwhelmed them? Who would continue to put flowers on Nathan’s memorial in their yard?
The shuttle’s engines sputtered, then suddenly sprung back to life. They screamed as they powered up and fought to slow their rapid descent. She could feel them moving forward as the acceleration forced her back into her seat more firmly. The shuttle felt like it was flying again, but barely.
She glanced out the side windows, noticing the tree tops as they jutted up on all sides of the shuttle. Something struck them on the right side, and the shuttle spun to the left. Immediately, something hit them astern and they spun back the opposite direction.
She felt herself thrown forward against her chest restraints, the sound of tearing metal and cracking wood filling her ears. Everything around her went white as her face and torso rammed up against deployed airbags. She felt a sudden pain in her abdomen, another sharp pain in the right side of her head.
Then everything went black, and silence fell upon her.
* * *
A communications technician rushed across the busy command center of the underground NAU facility, making his way over to Colonel Jaffey. He whispered into the colonel’s ear. A solemn look fell upon the colonel’s face as he turned toward President Scott.
“Mister President,” the colonel began, “I’ve just been notified that contact has been lost with Mrs. Scott’s shuttle.”
The president looked at Colonel Jaffey, his face hiding his concern, but his eyes betraying him. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came from it.
“Four NAU fighters intercepted them about ten minutes outside of Winnipeg, but the Jung fighters had already damaged the shuttle. Our pilots reported that the shuttle crashed in the forest.”
“Any sign of survivors?” General Bergeron asked, knowing that it was what the now speechless president would have asked.
“The pilots cannot tell. It’s too heavily wooded. There’s a lot of smoke, and trees in the immediate area have caught fire. We’ve dispatched rescue shuttles, but they may have a difficult time getting rescue men down to the crash site. It may only be accessible by ground.”