First Strike - An Earth@War Novel

Naval Space Center

Naval Base Oscar, Kylar II

May 25, 2487, 1007 Local, 1847 UT

Max Finley had spent the past hour helping clear the tarmac of the Space Center as spacecraft from both Dallas and London arrived at Kylar II. A temporary control tower had been erected using scaffolding. A fuel transport was being used to refuel the spacecraft since the underground tanks had been destroyed in the attack. The fuel tanks were still burning, filling the air with thick, black smoke. Fortunately, the carriers were sending back the craft fully armed. There was little left in the way of missiles at the Space Center in the wake of the attack.

All around Max, hundreds of naval personnel and Assault Forces troopers worked side by side. As the tarmac was cleared, construction men began repairs, pouring concrete and attempting to get as much of the center operational as possible. Heavy equipment had been brought in an hour ago and was removing the destroyed spacecraft. It seemed impossible to Max that not one of Earth’s spacecraft had left the ground during the attack, but that was apparently exactly what had happened. They caught us that off guard, Max thought.

Max drew a deep breath. The sky was perfectly clear, only clouded by the smoke from the fires still burning. If it wasn’t for the devastation around him, it would have been a beautiful day. As he looked up, twelve spacecraft approached the Space Center. Every time spacecraft approached, Max felt tense. But once again, these were Earth’s craft. They circled the base, then landed on a portion of the tarmac that had been cleared. A ground controller directed the craft to the area where they would be refueled.

ESS Argentina (D-868)

In Orbit, Kylar II

May 25, 2487, 1930 UT

Just over five hours after the attack on Kylar II, Argentina was towed alongside ESS Appalachian Mountains (RS-3), one of the two repair ships at Kylar II. Since Argentina’s damage was limited to hull damage and damage to her thrusters, it was determined that she would be one of the first ships to be repaired. Docked on the other side of Appalachian Mountains was ESS Lake Erie (C-96), a 940-foot long cruiser that also managed to avoid serious damage during the attack.

Ensign Singleton walked with Command Williams as the XO toured the ship. The mood on the ship was somber. The wounded and dead were being moved to Appalachian Mountains to be transferred to the surface. As they moved forward, there were signs of damage everywhere: scorch marks from fires, water on the deck from firefighting efforts and doors that were sealed leading to compartments that were open to space with holes that couldn’t quickly be patched.

Despite the damage, activity on the ship was picking up as Hull Technicians from the repair ship joined Argentina’s Hull Technicians in assessing the damage to Argentina’s hull and beginning repairs. Thruster Technicians were disconnecting equipment in the Forward Thruster Control room preparing to receive new machinery to replace what had been destroyed. Hull Technicians were also in the Forward Thruster Control room, beginning to make permanent repairs to the damage that Repair Two’s fire team had patched earlier.

“I can’t believe this,” Al told the XO as he surveyed the scene.

“Yeah, I know.” Commander Williams replied. “Let’s get the crew busy. If we give them something to do, they can focus on their job rather than thinking about what happened. Let’s get people in here to get the water off the decks and paint the bulkheads. We need to ensure the ship is combat ready as quickly as possible.”

“Aye, sir,” Al replied. He turned and headed out to carry out the XO’s orders. After he had left, the Captain approached the XO.

“Attention on Deck!” someone shouted as soon as the Captain was sighted.

“Carry on,” the Captain replied. He turned to Command Williams. “What do you think, XO?”

“Appalachian Mountains’ technicians said they will have us ready in 72 hours. We lost 18 crewmembers with 19 others wounded. Still, we are in far better shape than most of the fleet. Only eight ships were undamaged.”

“I know,” Captain McCollum replied. Although they were both the same age and both served at Masic Point, Williams had served there as an enlisted crewmember. He received his commission after mustering out and completing college. “We need to pay the bastards back.”

Naval Hospital

Naval Base Oscar, Kylar II

May 25, 2487, 1350 Local, 2020 UT

Andrew Wilson awoke to a pounding head. The lights seemed too bright, forcing him to close his eyes once more. His body ached all over. He heard people crying out in pain while other people were shouting orders. Confusion seemed to be everywhere. He was having trouble sorting out his thoughts. It took him several minutes to realize that he was in a hospital. What happened? he asked himself.

“Do you know your name?” a voice asked him.

“Andrew Wilson, Yeoman Second Class,” Andrew answered. His lips felt dry and cracked.

“Do you know where you are?” the voice asked. A woman, but not Kaitlyn.

“Yeah, a hospital,” Andrew said.

“You took a good bump to the head and have some bruised ribs, but otherwise, just lacerations,” the woman said. Andrew struggled to open his eyes again. The woman standing over him was shining a light into his eyes. “You suffered a concussion. What is the last thing you remember?”

Andrew struggled. What did happen? He remembered being with Admiral Wilson in the office. How did I get hurt in the office? he asked himself. There was a message from ESS Argentina, he recalled. Then what…wait, we were attacked, Andrew remembered. Images began flashing through his mind. The shock, the devastation. How could I forget?

“Batron attacked us!” Andrew exclaimed.

“Very good, what else?”

“I was driving…I’m not sure. Who are you?”

“I’m Lieutenant Alice Goodwin, your doctor. You were discovered about three hours ago after a bomb or missile exploded near your vehicle. You are going to be okay,” she said. Andrew closed his eyes. He heard a loud scream from somewhere nearby. He also heard moans coming from somewhere further away.

Suddenly, Andrew was filled with panic. His eyes opened wide. “What about Kaitlyn?” he cried out.

“Who?” Alice asked.

“My fiancé,” Andrew said. “Kaitlyn Ryder.”

“Was she in the vehicle with you?” the doctor asked.

“No, she was at my apartment,” Andrew said, his heart pounding. “Is there a comm unit I can use?”

“Yes, right there,” Alice replied. Andrew started to sit up, but quickly became dizzy. “Slow down. You suffered a rather bad concussion.”

“Maybe I can help,” a booming voice said. Andrew looked over and saw Admiral Morris standing in the doorway. His cigar was in his lips, though unlit per hospital protocol.

“Sir,” the doctor said upon seeing the Admiral. Admiral’s weren’t a real common sight in the hospital. As a matter of fact, this was the first time Alice had seen one.

“Can you give us a few minutes?” the Admiral asked the doctor.

“Of course, sir. I’ll be right outside,” Alice replied. She walked out the door, closing it behind her.

“Admiral, I am trying to find out about Kaitlyn,” Andrew said.

“I know,” Admiral Morris said sitting down on the edge of the bed beside Andrew. The Admiral drew a deep breath looking down at the floor. “There is no easy way to tell you. Your building took a direct hit and collapsed. I am sorry, Wilson, but Kaitlyn didn’t make it.”

Andrew stared at the Admiral. He felt like he was dreaming. Kaitlyn can’t be gone, he thought. There can’t be a war. This has to be a dream, his mind screamed.

“I’m truly sorry. I can only imagine what you are going through,” the Admiral said. Andrews body shook as he began to cry.

How can I possibly go on? Andrew asked himself as he cried.

Naval Space Center

Naval Base Oscar, Kylar II

May 25, 2487, 1930 Local, May 26, 2487, 0210 UT

Max and Carlos were once again manning a BA-75. The gun was ready to fire with a charge loaded and the safety guard removed. Two other privates from their squad were nearby each with a SL‑21 shoulder launched anti-spacecraft missile launcher. The other four members of the squad were similarly equipped fifty yards away.

Both men were exhausted. Since the attack began, twelve hours ago, they had been on the move. And there seemed to be no end to this day. Max wondered how much longer he could keep going. We’re supposed to be on liberty, drinking at a bar, not on alert because Batron attacked us, Max thought. He looked up and saw Corporal Hanks approaching.

“Here,” Corporal Hanks said handing each man two energy bars. “I know it’s not the best, but at least I can give you some coffee to go with it.”

“Thanks, Corporal,” Max said taking the energy bars as well as the coffee.

“Call me Joe,” Hanks replied.

“Thanks, Joe,” Max said.

“Listen, they have Company A assigned to the Space Center. First Platoon is on the perimeter, we have the gun placements and Third Platoon is on cleanup. Companies B and C are deployed outside of the base to defend the area in case Batron attempts a ground assault. So, we’re going to be here for a long time. You two will have to alternate sleeping. One of you is to be on the gun and awake at all times,” Joe said.

“Understood,” Max and Carlos replied in unison.

“If one of you need to relieve yourself, the other one stays on the gun. No bullshit. This gun is to be manned at all times.”

“Aye,” Max and Carlos replied.

“If those bastards come back, I want to see them falling from the sky,” Corporal Hanks said.

“We want the same thing,” Carlos ensured the Corporal.

“Good. I’ll check back on you two in a little while,” Hanks said as turned and walked off toward the two men with the SL-21.

“The coffee tastes good,” Max said to Carlos as he took a sip.

“Yeah,” Carlos replied. The two men sat quietly as they ate the energy bars and sipped the coffee each in their own thoughts. With the sun going down, the men could see red glows around the base where fires still burned. Debris blazed across the sky as pieces from spacecraft and ships destroyed or damaged in the battle continued to fall to the surface.

Occasionally, a group of spacecraft would land at the Center to refuel. An hour earlier, a trooper had fired at a friendly spacecraft with a BA-75. Fortunately, he missed. Now, a beacon was used when friendly spacecraft approached to avoid a second, potentially more serious, mistake.

“I wonder if they are going to invade,” Carlos said after a half an hour of silence.

“I don’t know,” Max replied.

“I hate to admit it, but I’m afraid,” Carlos said softly.

“Me, too,” Max admitted.

Office of the Secretary General

United Nations Headquarters, Earth

May 26, 2487, 0915 UT

The mood in the conference room was somber to say the least. At 0700 a special session of the General Assembly was called and the members voted unanimously to declare war on Baton. That was expected of course. Earth could not stand by and do nothing after such a brazen attack on its territory. Members of the Secretary General’s cabinet were gathered in the conference room adjoining to his office. Normally, there would be conversations and even some laughter from the members of the cabinet while they waited for the Secretary General to arrive, but today there was silence.

The Secretary General entered the room and the cabinet rose as one. Vincente Colón moved to the head of the table. “Be seated,” he told everyone.

“As you know, we are now at war. I never wanted that and I know each of you have worked hard to try to avoid it. I thank each of you for your efforts to avoid this conflict. Unfortunately, the enemy has made the choice for war.

“Now, that the choice has been made, it is my goal to fully engage the enemy and to emerge victorious. I know that each of you will be as valuable in this endeavor as you were when we were trying to avoid it.

“The General Assembly has allocated emergency funding for our war effort. Open contracts will be posted for manufacturers here on Earth and in our territories to provide the products we need for war.

“SDK shipping is already preparing their ships to move equipment and personnel for us. Other shipping companies are expected to provide ships for similar purposes,” Vincent said.

“Sir, how much did we lose at Kylar?” the Minister of Treasury, a 52-year-old woman asked. Colón looked over to Alex Weber.

“I won’t have official number until later today. The Fourth Fleet has been heavily damaged and many ships were lost. Naval Base Oscar has significant damage as well. The Space Center there was practically leveled, although they have got the Center partially operational now. Fleet Headquarters was destroyed. It is going to take time to recover,” the Minister of Earth Defense said.

“Have the Batronians invaded?” another cabinet member asked.

“No. And we don’t know why because, bluntly, we couldn’t stop them if they did. Our theory is they are not sure how badly they hurt us and don’t want to reveal the location of their fleet,” Alex answered.

“Could they be heading toward Earth?” Carol Anderson asked. She was not actually a member of the cabinet, but Vincent Colón valued her opinion in dealing with Batron, so highly, that she was included in any cabinet meeting involving Batron.

“It’s possible. To protect Earth, we have mobilized First Fleet and positioned those ships between here and Masic Point.”

Alex Weber looked around to see if anyone else had a question. When none came, Vincent Colón spoke again. “I’m going to the Batronian Embassy and personally serve the Ambassador a copy of the Declaration of War and then arrange for a ship to take his ass back to Batron.”

“Do you want me to join you?” Carol asked, assuming he would. She had always been asked to attend every meeting between the Secretary General and the Ambassador from Batron.

“No, I am putting you on a transport,” the Secretary General said.

“Going where?” Carol asked surprised.

“I need you on Kylar II,” Colón said, rising to his feet. Less than an hour later, Carol found herself on a T-5 heading for Kylar II

ESS London (SCV-7)

Near the Kylar System

May 26, 2487, 1438 UT

Charlie Flight of the 18th Fighter Wing was once again flying combat patrol, while the remainder of the flights were prepped and ready to launch to cover attack craft if any enemy ships were detected.

When Charlie Flight had been relieved from patrol duty the day before, they met in the ready room watching the news feed. Images from Kylar II were blacked out and information was fuzzy, but the basic truth was evident—Batron had attacked Kylar II and Earth was now at war.

Now, back on patrol, Chris was trying to keep his flight of six alert and ready. It was frustrating and boring being on patrol with nothing happening. Chris was well aware of the fact that he, and probably every member of the wing would know people lost in the attack. The flight was currently operating in three groups of two: Chris and Don were flying just ahead of London, Charlie 2 and Charlie 4 to the port side and Charlie 5 and Charlie 6 to the starboard side of the carrier. Delta Flight was on alert and Echo Flight on five minutes standby. An AWC-2 advanced warning spacecraft, with its advanced sensor array was 4 AMU in front of Chris feeding its sensor data back to the carrier.

London’s current mission was purely defensive. The ship was to monitor and challenge any ship or spacecraft approaching the Kylar system. Charlie Flight was to respond to any spacecraft approaching. If ships were detected, SA-18s would be launched, escorted by Delta and Echo Flights.

“Dreamer, let’s turn to 014 by 217,” Chris said over the flight comm.

“Roger, C-Dong,” Don replied and they banked into the turn. Just as they came out of the turn, the general comm came to life.

“Charlie Flight, Flight Control. Eagle eyes has four inbound spacecraft bearing 079 by 021, distance 30 AMU, speed 90,” the Flight Controller announced, Eagle Eyes referring to the AWC‑2.

“Flight Control, Charlie Leader, roger,” Chris replied. Then he switched back to the Flight comm. “Charlie 2 and 5, form up on me Charlie 3 and 6, maintain your position and cover the nest.” Each member of the flight acknowledged their orders, though disappointment was obvious in the voices of Charlie 4 and Charlie 6. Forty-five seconds later, Charlies 2 and 5 formed up with Chris and Don.

“Let’s go, speed 105,” Chris said and the flight turned to intercept. Chris throttled up smoothly and the LX-15 engines pushed the spacecraft to a speed of 105 AMU with a satisfying roar.

Each of the SF-112s were currently armed with ten AM-2 short-range anti-spacecraft missiles and two AM-6 long-range missiles. With the enemy only 30 AMU away, using long-range missiles would be a waste since Charlie Flight would have the enemy fighters in range of the AM-2s in less than eight minutes. Besides the AM-2s were more accurate.

“Charlie Leader, Flight Control. Eagle Eyes reports your incoming spacecraft are Batronian Model Four fighters,” the voice on the comm unit reported.

“Flight Control, Charlie Leader, roger that,” Chris said. The Model Four fighters were Batron’s latest models. They were both faster and more maneuverable than the SF-112s, but fortunately for the flight, they were the spacecraft that the Earth’s fighter pilots had been training to engage for the past three years. Chris toggled the Flight comm. “You heard that people. Let’s be careful. Weapons free. Fire when in range.

Chris selected one of the Batronian spacecraft with his targeting computer. The computer quickly locked on and Chris release an AM-2. His spacecraft shuddered as the missile was released. The AM-2s engine started and it quickly accelerated to a speed of 180 AMU, its internal sensors guiding it toward its target. Chris banked and dove quickly trying to ensure the enemy didn’t target him after he fired his weapon.

The AM-2s sensors guided it perfectly. At the last instant, multiple targets appeared around the spacecraft the missile was locked onto, created by decoys launched by the Batronian pilot. Unfortunately, for the pilot, the missile was not fooled. Twelve seconds after launch, the missile struck the Batronian spacecraft. The missile exploded upon impact, engulfing the spacecraft in a fireball. The pilot had no chance to eject before the spacecraft disintegrated.

“Vape one,” Chris said over the flight comm. His heart was pounding as, for the first time, he killed another being. That thought weighed heavily on him for a few seconds before he refocused. He brought his SF-112 back around, heading toward the Batronians again. As he prepared to target another one of the enemy craft, a warning alarm sounded in his cockpit. One of the enemy had locked onto him! Again, he turned his spacecraft, this time to the right. His thumb toggled a button on the control stick releasing several decoys. He reversed his turn and pulled up. On his HUD, he saw another Batronian disappear.

“Got one!” he heard a female voice say. Charlie 5 he realized, the only female in Charlie Flight.

The missile exploded behind him, fooled by one of his decoys, but still shaking his spacecraft violently. He turned back to the enemy, quickly targeting another Batronian and releasing a second AM-2. An explosion off to his left caught his eye.

“Damn, they got Snake,” Don said over the comm. Shit, thought Chris. Snake was Charlie 2 and, although he had never lost a pilot in combat, he had lost one in a training accident. It was his responsibility to notify the next of kin. It was hard and, to Chris, an admission on his part that he had failed to protect the family’s loved one. Chris’ own missile destroyed another Model Four and Don took out the last one thirty seconds later.

“Flight Control, Charlie Leader. Vape four enemy fighters, but we lost Charlie 2,” Chris announced in shock.

“Roger. Return to patrol area,” came the seemingly heartless reply. Despite having just lost a member of their Flight, Charlie Flight had a duty to perform. Chris was just beginning to understand the cost of war.

Naval Space Center

Naval Base Quebec, Omar IV

May 26, 2487, 1912 Local, 1612 UT

Naval Base Quebec remained at Condition Delta. There were four ships docked in orbit above Omar IV when the attack on Kylar II occurred, led by ESS Nile River (C-94), the last of the Mississippi class of cruisers. In addition to the cruiser, there were three destroyers. Shortly after the attack on Kylar II, the ships except for ESS Mexico (D-866) which was damaged in a collision with a Batronian stealth ship near Omar VII on May 21, got underway and were now operating just outside of the Omar system watching for approaching Batronian ships and spacecraft. Mexico remained docked orbiting Omar IV.

Civilian ships had also been moved to interstellar space. Many were waiting for orders from various shipping companies knowing that it was likely that they would be transferred to military control. Only SDK Shipping had announced that their fleet of cargo ships were being placed under naval control so far, with the cargo ship Alexander already enroute to Earth to pick up supplies and personnel to transfer to Kylar II both to reinforce the base and for making repairs to the damage that was incurred during the attack.

On the base, all military personnel were restricted to the base to ensure a maximum state of readiness. But, it was apparent to all who were present, that Omar IV was in worse shape than Kylar II was when the attack occurred. Defense cuts had badly hurt Naval Base Quebec which was operating with far less ships and fewer personnel than it had just ten years ago. Dave Roberts and Phil Moore were armed with SL-21 shoulder launched missile systems and prepared to shoot down any enemy spacecraft. Behind them, twenty M-4G missiles were ready to fire if any enemy ships entered the system. The M-4G missiles were modified M-4 missiles designed to fire missiles at ships from ground positions instead of other ships.

Since going on Condition Delta, all personnel were on 12 hours on/12 hours off watch rotation. Dave and Phil were tired. News came in slowly from Kylar II, but rumors came much faster. Rumors had been passed around that the entire fleet had been destroyed and that Naval Base Oscar was just as devastated. Every few hours, a rumor would go around that Kylar II had fallen to Batron. This provoke fear among the troopers since the loss of Kylar II would leave no way for ships from Earth to get to Omar IV to deliver supplies and Batron could simply choose to outwait the humans on Omar IV. News reports would reveal that the rumor was not true, but just over 24 hours after the attack, everyone was waiting to see if Batron would invade Kylar. And everyone was waiting to see if Omar IV would be next.

“It only makes sense,” Phil told Dave. “Omar is halfway between Batron and Kylar. The way I figure it, Batron attacked Kylar to destroy the fleet. Now, they can take their time and take over the whole sector one system at a time.”

“Maybe,” Dave replied. He looked at the 5’11” black man. Despite his humble beginnings, Phil was a well-educated man. It was a logical idea, but it was just overwhelming to imagine that Batron would attack here. The whole concept of a war hadn’t sunk it, even though there were rumors that several systems between here and Batron were now occupied by Batronian forces. And at least some of those rumors had proven true.

Forty minutes later, Dave and Phil were relieved of their watch. They ate quickly at the chow hall, showered and headed for the bunks to get some shuteye. This would become their routine for almost two weeks.

Naval Space Center

Naval Base Oscar, Kylar II

May 26, 2487, 2250 Local, May 27, 2487, 0430 UT

Carol Anderson arrived at Kylar II under tight security. Fighters from the 14th Fighter Wing, which had arrived from ESS Dallas earlier in the day, escorted her TP-5 from the time they entered the Kylar System until they landed at the Space Center. The fighters warned the pilot of the TP-5 to follow all instructions or they would shoot it down. Carol had traveled to many military outposts during the time she served in the Embassy on Batron and never saw security quite this tight.

A ground transport quickly took Carol from the Space Center to the Naval Brig where a guard checked her ID before allowing her to enter. Once she was inside, she was met by the Duty Officer, a young Lieutenant who led her into a small conference room that had been transformed into an interrogation room. There was a rectangular table in the center of the room with two chairs on one side and a single chair on the other. The room was brightly lit with white walls and old-style fluorescent lighting. Carol and the duty officer sat on one side of the table. The captured Batronian pilot was led into the room in chains. Two guards forced him into the chair on the other side of the table as he stared intently at Carol and the duty officer.

“Ugly, aren’t they?” the duty officer said. Carol turned and stared at him silently. Uncomfortable now, the duty officer continued. “He was shot down during the attack, the only one captured although they lost fifteen spacecraft. Looks pretty damned pleased with himself, doesn’t he?”

“He probably is,” Carol said studying the Batronian. “Killed over three thousand plus destroyed over half of the Fourth Fleet. At a cost of fifteen spacecraft. I’d say he was involved in a pretty successful operation, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, I reckon he was, ma’am,” he admitted. The duty officer wasn’t sure exactly who she was, but she was obviously important and you didn’t argue with a VIP.

“Now, listen up,” Carol told the Lieutenant. “As of this minute, you are not to speak unless I ask something of you. Understood, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied just wondering who she thought she was giving him orders.

Carol looked at the alien who was studying the two humans. <<Hello. My name is Carol Anderson and I represent Earth>> Carol said in Batronian. She wasn’t sure who was shocked more the Batronian pilot or the duty officer. <<Let’s start with your name.>>

The pilot stared at her for several seconds before answering. <<You can call me Shonze. I am a member of Batron’s Defense Force.>>

<<It didn’t seem like defense to me.>>

The alien snorted. <<Those decisions are made by others. I just follow orders.>>

<<That’s interesting. Let’s talk about your orders.>> Carol said thoughtfully. <<Not so much your orders here, we already know about that. But what would be next? If you hadn’t been captured of course.>>

<<Do you think Batronians are that stupid. Our leaders just run around and tell us pilots what the plan is. They tell us what to destroy and we destroy it. Then, they give us the next order.>>

<<Normally, I would agree with you. But, in your case I think you know exactly what the plan is. Do you think I’m dumb? I spent my entire adult life studying Batron. I know your language, your history and your traditions. I even know your famous heroes. Did you think I would recognize you Captain Shonze of Gablin, Commander of the Strikers?>> Carol asked. Normally, Batronian facial expressions are hard to read. But this time, the shock on Shonze’s face was clear even to the duty officer.

“Have him returned to his cell. Ensure he has absolutely no contact with anyone for the next 72 hours. Then, I will talk to him again,” Carol told the duty officer.

“Yes, ma’am,” the duty officer replied, suddenly and completely impressed by this woman.