Chapter 3
May 21, 2157
Washington, D.C.
New Pentagon
"All the nations are already working together in order to repel the Romulan threat, but it's not enough. They outnumber us," the Australian general stated.
"Correct," the African general added. "The African Union has been seeing that problem as well. We must build more ships faster."
"We could build ships without Warp Drive. The Romulans don't have it, so that would not give us any disadvantage," the French admiral representing the European Union stated.
Murmurs of approval and acceptance spread through the room.
"Wrong!" came Dana's stern and powerful voice. It boomed through the room filled with military and intelligence operatives. "The Romulans do have warp drive."
"What?!" some military operatives asked incredulously. A few Intelligence operatives were surprised as well, but much less than the military.
"It is something we have suspected . . . well, essentially known, since the beginning of the war a few months back," General Berman head of the CIA answered. "You see Romulus is approximately 60 light-years away which means, that if they had gotten here at only sub-light speeds, their ships would've been obsolete after just a sixth of their journey. It is something we found suspicious. Not only that, but they seem to be able to refuel and rearm themselves rather quickly and seemingly indefinitely. You can't do that with a few resupply ships. The Romulans would need to go back to their home planet, and they can't do that without a warp drive."
"If they had warp drive," the Argentinean General cut in, "why don't they use it against us?"
"Because," Dana interrupted, "they want us to do exactly what you were proposing: eliminate warp drive from our ships, then lure us about fifteen light-minutes away from Earth. They go to warp, and are at an unprotected Earth in less then a few seconds. They could blow us away, while our fleet would need fifteen minutes to return to Earth."
"Are you certain about this?" the American general asked.
"Show 'em, Colonel Dahmer," General Berman said.
Dana stood up and walked to a screen and pushed a button. It changed to a picture of the distinctive characteristics of a warp field moving out of the solar system on a course for Romulus. "Our intelligence satellite around Pluto picked this up. As you can clearly see, this shows a warp field moving out of our solar system at approximately Warp 3. It is on a direct heading for Romulus." Dana pushed a few buttons and now the bubble expanded, and then the insides of it became visible. Dana continued, "The satellite has recently been upgraded with sub-space sensors, a recent innovation. It allows us to see what's inside a warp field. As you can see, this warp field contains a Romulan heavy carrier, apparently on its way back for refueling, rearming and repairs. This is taken one week ago."
The murmurs were not very inspiring as the truth sank in.
"We think it's best," General Berman said, raising his voice so all attention was on him, "to keep this information classified to the highest degree. As far as we are concerned the Romulans have no warp drive. It will help keep up morale: we have warp drive, they do not. It is something the people can grasp to. We have superior technology, we will win. Add to that the fact that projections have shown that the Romulans are on an equal level of technology with us might seriously demoralize the troops."
Nods and murmurs of acceptation went through the room.
"Good, that's settled. This information will remain classified. Now on to more important things," General Berman said. The rest of the group of admirals and generals from all over the seemed surprised at the sudden take over of the meeting by Berman. "Colonel, would you please," he told Dana.
Dana pushed a few buttons and the screen switched to a frightening sight. "These are images of the same satellite, complemented with images of other satellites. As you can see the Romulans are amassing their fleet right outside our solar system," Dana said. The images showed a few warp trails going toward the amassing fleet, who then disappeared as the ships dropped out of warp. "These images," Dana continued, seriously as she looked around the mostly white room at the people attending, "were taken three days ago." Dana pushed a button and screen changed. "Two days ago. Yesterday. Four hours ago," Dana said as she showed each stage. "As you can see, the fleet is moving on a direct course for Earth, they will arrive somewhere tomorrow morning, 0600 hours."
"Oh, my God!" came several replies.
"Calm down," the voice of General Berman cut through the scared voices. "We need to focus. We've come up with a plan."
"This better be a good one," someone said with a hint of fear in his voice. Then all became silent.
General Berman took the opportunity. "We retreat all our vessels back to Earth and fight it out here, one battle with all our ships present. This should be a battle we could win, and give a decisive blow to the Romulans."
"Their course is awfully close to Mars. If they find out we left it unprotected, don't you think they would try to destroy the colony and anything there?" the South American general asked.
"No," Dana answered him, stepping a little forward emphasizing that what she had to say was important. "The Romulans will go deeper in our solar system than any time before and they're coming for Earth. They won't go to Mars, because Mars still has planetary defense systems. If they concentrate on that and we then go from Earth to Mars, which is a distance quite quickly traversed, they'll be locked in a two front battle."
"And then there is this. Colonel?" the general said, giving a quick nod to Dana.
Dana stepped back to the screen and pushed a few buttons. "Behold: the Utopia Planitia Shipyards. It is hidden to almost all of our sensors. Unless you know exactly where to look, you wouldn't find it. It was finished approximately two months ago; there are ninety-thousand crew on board, and forty-thousand crew members working day and night. It has finished one carrier, two carriers' worth of fighter craft and fifteen Christopher-class attack ships. A second carrier should be ready in about one week and could be sent out now in case of an emergency. We'll no longer be outnumbered five to one, but between two to one and three to one. We won't abandon Mars completely. If the Romulans decide to attack Mars they'll find it less easy to destroy than they thought. When this happens the fleet at Earth can get to Mars and attack. If the Romulans don't take the opportunity and keep on going to Earth, which is the most likely, then ships at Mars will come to Earth. Either way, we'll box the Romulans in."
After another half hour everybody had agreed with the plan and returned to their bases in to relay the information to their people. Ships started returning to Earth within the hour.
*****
"Colonel," the General asked as they walked through a corridor of the Pentagon toward their offices.
"Yes, sir?" Dana answered the general.
"'You ready to go?" General Berman answered.
"Yes, sir. The people we selected are ready to go. They've been given the orders to prepare to ship out when ordered," Dana answered the general.
"You're certain about this . . . backup plan?" Berman said camouflaging what he knew.
"Absolutely, sir. Remember, I did something similar before and back then I had no backup plan - I was scared shitless - one teensy weensy mistake," Dana visually aided 'teensy weensy' by putting her right index finger and thumb almost against each other, "and all would come tumbling down. From then on, I vowed I would always have a backup plan."
"That's not what I meant," Berman said, giving her meaningful look.
"Oh . . . as I've assured you before, the sources I've found are absolutely trustworthy," Dana assured him again with a smile, while adding silently to herself, *since they are my own memories, I would consider them quite so.*
"Good, so how's your daughter, Shane?" the general asked, smiling back at her.
"Good, she's doing well in school, and she's not a pain in the ass to the baby-sitter . . . unless the baby-sitter is lying of course," Dana answered him, smiling a proud mother's smile coupled with a little smirk of mischief on her face.
*****
The next day
4:30 AM
Dreamland 2
"Welcome gentleman," Dana said to the five who had gone with her as they stood within the gates. "Welcome to Area 674 in Utah. Welcome to Dreamland 2."
"I don't see anything," one of them said, holding his hand above his eyes against the rising sun. It was early and the sun was just peaking above the horizon of the barren landscape, but it was bright nonetheless.
"You're not supposed to see anything," Dana said to him, grinning. "The base is built inside the mountain."
The guy lifted his eyebrows disbelieving, as he looked at the mountain.
"Come on," Dana ordered them with a wave of her hand and they followed her. Once they reached the mountain, she told them, "Two of you go right, the other three left. Try to find anything unusual; buttons, card slits, etc." The two CIA operatives and three army men did as she told them. She herself waited for about thirty seconds, then walked directly to the entrance. She rapped her knuckles twice on the face of the rock, then rubbed her hand over it and a small panel slid aside. She looked left and right, to make sure the others weren't coming back or looking at her. Then she fumbled her keycard from a pocket in her clothes and slid it inside the slit meant for it. Then she pushed her four number pin code and the panel came to life, letters scrolled across a small screen: 'Please state: rank, name, and password.'
"General Brown, Samantha, password: Trojan Horse," Dana said to the panel.
New letters scrolled across the small screen: 'Name and password accepted, please hold eye in front of camera.'
Dana put her eye in front of the small round glass dot, which was a camera. The circuitry inside the camera scanned her iris, then it compared it with the iris on file.
New letters scrolled onto the screen: 'Access granted.' Then a click and a rock faced door opened a little to the left.
"Go to full operational status, authorization Brown, Samantha, Fifty-four, Delta, New York, Niner," Dana said into the panel.
Again letters: 'Password accepted: full operational status will limit security. Access requires only keycard. Are you sure you wish to proceed?'
"Yes," Dana told the panel and the rock once again slid closed. A different panel opened on the other side of the door, this one containing only a card slot.
"I found it!" Dana yelled at the others as she closed the door. The four men and one woman came running back quickly.
Dana slid her keycard inside the card reader, while saying out loud, "Let's hope the keycard still works." After she inserted the card, the door she had just closed once again opened to omit access to the Dreamland 2 complex.
*****
After they had walked through the complex for a few minutes - Dana deliberately didn't walk straight to the command center - the female, Marinda Doyle, asked, "What the hell is this place, anyway?"
"Classified," Dana answered, then looked at her, "and it stays that way."
Finally they reached the command center and Dana ordered, after turning on the lights, "Go check out the systems, communications are a priority."
"Yes, sir," the five answered and they went to work.
Dana positioned herself behind a console and typed in the following words, 'Initiate all weapons' platform satellites'.
The screen showed the following:
'Initiating weapons' platform satellites.'
'Finding Plasma-ball Platforms..............26 of 30 responding.'
'Finding Laser Platforms.................24 of 30 responding.'
'Finding Nuclear Platforms.............all responding.'
'Checking intermediate time...122 years.'
'Performing safety checks, Plasma-ball Platforms................check.'
'Performing safety checks, Laser Platforms.............check.'
'Performing safety checks, Nuclear Platforms............. ....................check.'
'Powering up Plasma-ball Platforms........97% responding...rerouting power in platform 17....done...all available Plasma-ball Platforms powered up.'
'Powering up Laser platforms..........88% responding...rerouting power in platform 28.......rerouting power in platform 22........... unresponsive...rerouting power in platform 13.....rerouting power in platform 8.........unresponsive...93% of Laser platforms powered up.'
'Powering up Nuclear Platforms........100% of Nuclear Platforms powered up.'
'Initializing targeting systems Plasma-ball Platforms........... initialized.'
'Initializing targeting systems Laser Platforms..........initialized.'
'Initializing targeting systems Nuclear Platforms........initialized.'
By now almost half an hour had passed.
"Colonel?" Michael Halliwell said.
"Yes, Captain?" Dana answered.
"We've established communications with Headquarters, Colonel. The General wishes to speak with you," Michael told her.
"Put him through," Dana told him, and looked at a blank screen that changed into general Berman's head.
"Shane, we've got a problem. The Romulans mean business. They're not moving at the usual .6 times the speed of light, but .9 times. They'll be here around 0530 hours instead of around 0550 as we had anticipated. It also has another consequence, the . . ." General said and was cut off by Dana.
"Yes, I know. Utopia Planitia and the fleet there are powered down in order to avoid detection. Powering up takes time - they'll be here about a quarter of an hour later instead of the planned five minutes," Dana interrupted him and continued, "Hold on, General."
"Lieutenant Doyle, make contact with a space telescope above Eurasia. Have it pointed at sector 220 and with a space telescope above America and have it pointed at sector 116," Dana ordered Marinda.
"On it, Colonel," Marinda answered.
"Yes, General?" Dana turned back toward general Berman.
"Sensors indicate that they're also coming with more ships than usual." The general looked to his right briefly and pushed a few buttons. "We'll be outnumbered 1 to 6, I'm glad you came up with the backup plan, Colonel, we're going to need it. When will you be ready?"
"These weapon's platforms have been off line for over a century, General, they can't interface with today's space telescopes. We'll have to manually recalibrate their targeting systems. It'll take approximately one point five minutes per satellite; there are about eighty of them delegated to six people, it'll take between fifteen and twenty minutes. We'll be ready between 5:35 and 5:40; they'll have to hold out until then," Dana told the general, busy recalibrating the first of the targeting systems.
"That's cutting it close, Colonel. Especially since I think they won't limit their maneuverability anymore. See if you can shorten the period of time," General Berman told her.
"Understood, General, but I don't want these things to fire at our own instead of the Romulans," Dana told the general.
"Got it. Berman out," General Berman answered and the screen went blank again.
Dana typed in the following words, 'Delegate targeting recalibrations to additional stations: 3, 5, 7, 10 and 14,' while she said, "You heard him, each take a space telescope and start doing these targeting recalibrations."
"Yes, sir, Colonel, sir," the five of answered in unison.
Dana looked back down her screen:
'Target lock acquired: 15° L, 42° R, 9° U, measurements, 26m diameter,
50m depth, apr. mass 50 mt. Correct? Y/N.'
*****
Time passed by until 5:35 when the general's face once again blinked into existence.
"Colonel, we're still holding our own, but we can't for much longer. Their number advantage is costing us."
"Understood, General. Tell them to hang on just one minute more, maximum two," Dana answered.
"Copy that, I'll tell 'em," the general answered and his face blinked out of existence.
"You ready?" Dana asked frantically of the others as she finished the last of the recalibrations by pushing 'N', then a few redirections and finally, 'Y'.
"Ready," came one reply.
And another, "Ready," as Dana typed in the next words without the return button: 'Move all satellites to grid 19.'
Another three 'ready's' and Dana pushed the return button. The screen answered:
'Moving all satellites to grid 19. Acquiring targets through satellites currently present.'
'Unknown targets found, displaying.'
Schematic drawings, size, energy output and other characteristics of the vessels above Earth were displayed on the screen. Behind it stood the words, 'Enemy/Friendly.' Dana pushed on 'Enemy' or 'Friendly' where appropriate. Then she typed, 'Initiate pre-firing sequences on all satellites.' On the screen came the response:
'Initiating pre-firing sequences on Plasma-ball Platforms........ priming Plasma-ball launchers......ready.'
'Initiating pre-firing sequences on Laser Platforms........priming Laser batteries...........ready.'
'Initiating pre-firing sequences on Nuclear Platforms.......priming launchers......opening locking mechanisms........ready.'
Then Dana entered, 'Go to automatic firing.'
'Automatic firing: ready.'
And then, finally, 'Fire at will.'
*****
High above Earth
"Damn," Lieutenant Michaels said as he saw another silent explosion to his left. Was it Romulan or one of them? He didn't know. "Skunk, we're not going keep this up. They outnumber us six to one, and I've got feeling it increased in the past few minutes."
I know, Bull, Lieutenant Commander Dyson answered as he blew away another Romulan ship. If we don't get help soon, we're all dead meat.
"You've got one your six, Skunk," Michaels yelled as his lasers cut down a Romulan ship. It silently exploded in the vacuum.
Shit, I'm hit, came Dyson's yell through Michaels' earpiece.
"Hold on, I'm coming," Michaels told him, ready to turn his fighter toward Dyson's craft.
Don't bother. A little damage ain't gonna stop me from taking care of them, Dyson yelled back. Michaels looked to his left and saw Dyson's craft rolling sharply, bringing the front of the fighter in the opposite direction and slowing the fighter almost to a standstill. Michaels winced. He knew that the maneuver would have pulled at least ten G's despite the fighter's inertial dampers and that the Romulan fighter was almost on top of Dyson.
Take this, you freak, Michaels heard Dyson yell as he saw a rocket being launched from Dyson's fighter, obliterating the Romulan fighter just before it would have collided with Dyson.
Michaels rolled his craft in a sharp downward roll, barely avoiding the missile that rocketed passed him. The rocket, however, quickly changed course and came back after him. Michaels pitched his ship sharply down. The rocket once again past over and changed course to intercept. General Berman's voice came through the comm system, Listen up people, backup is coming in maximum two minutes. Keep it together for another short while, Earth is counting on you people.
"Let's not increase the pressure, huh," Michaels sarcastically remarked as he banked his craft sharply to the right and down, directly at a Romulan fighter chasing an Earth fighter, who, being attacked from two more angles, was barely keeping from being shot out of space. The female pilot was desperately asking for help. Michaels turned his comm system to a slightly different frequency, making sure the Romulan would hear him, and told him in a blood thirsty voice, "Try this on for size, son of a bitch." He sharply pulled his ship up, coming into the path of a second ship that was attacking the Earth fighter, he let his laser cannons loose and it exploded silently in the night sky. The rocket, in the mean time, mistook the fist Romulan ship for the correct target, flew directly at it and blew it into a billion pieces.
The ship that had been in distress spun around its axes and fired a missile at a third Romulan ship that promptly exploded. The pilot, Melissa McBrian said to Michaels, Thanks, Bull, I needed that.
"No problem, Spark. Just return the favor when I need it," Michaels answered her, banking his ship in order to prevent a collision with a Romulan ship.
Holy Shit, Michaels, are you seeing, what I'm seeing, Spark's voice came through Michaels' comm. system.
"What is it, Spark? I don't know what you mean," Michaels told her.
That satellite, man, it's opening . . . and . . . if I'm correct, I'm seeing a battery of Titan missiles inside of it, Michaels heard her voice again.
"If that's our backup, we're screwed," he told her, as he banked down hard and fired his last missile at a Romulan craft that was there. It exploded in a fiery ball of light and debris as he added, "Shit, I need help here, Spark, they've ganged on me with seven of them, I can't take this much longer."
Sorry, Bull, Melissa answered, swerving her ship sharply from one side to the other, I've got four of 'em to deal with myself. There're just too many of them . . . Wait a minute, what's that? That old weather satellite is opening as well.
Michaels sharply pulled his flight stick downward as his ship took a few hits and some smoke filled the cockpit. Michaels blindly pushed a few buttons, increasing ventilation, as he looked outside the window and saw the satellite Melissa referred to. When he looked further he saw other satellites also opening. He counted three different open satellites and if he wasn't mistaken, satellites which were still around the bend of the Earth a few minutes ago were now moving toward him. They were also open.
Whatever that is, Bull, it doesn't look old to me, Melissa's voice sounded through the comm. system.
Then there were a few red flashed and a few green ones and six of the seven ships attacking him exploded in brilliant orange flames.
"Whoa," Michaels said as he turned his ship toward the seventh ship, fired his lasers, and saw it explode. Michaels looked toward the satellites. The green balls of energy came from the satellites that seemed to posses only one firing barrel and red laser beams came from satellites with a battery of four lasers.
"Holy shit, those things fire accurately!" Michaels said as he saw Romulan craft explode everywhere. One ship got a red laser just beneath it and banked upward where a new laser beam struck it, exploding it. More lasers and green balls filled space as more satellites came in positions.
Whoa, Bull, ha, ha, this is it! I knew they wouldn't let us down! Spark's voice came through the comm.
"Yeah, let's blow these Romulan bastards out of our system," Michaels screamed through his comm. system, not limiting himself to just Spark.
Lieutenant Commander Michaels, this is Captain Dyson, I believe it's my job to order this squadron around, Dyson voice came through to Michaels.
"What are you gonna do about it, Captain," Michaels said, a smile in his words and one on his face as he blew away another Romulan, "demote me to lieutenant?"
A groan and then Dyson's voice, Listen up, Wolf Squadron, you heard the man. Let's blow up these Romulans and keep them away from our carriers and those satellites.
Aye, aye, Captain, came several voices over the comm system.
Michaels swivelled his craft down and to the left in order to intercept a Romulan craft trying to take out one or more satellites. He fired a few laser bolts and it exploded. He looked at the satellites and saw several 'green ball launchers', as he had started calling them in his head, encircle one satellite with the missile batteries. *What the . . .?* Michaels thought. Then he saw the green launchers firing a whole myriad of green balls directly at a carrier several hundred thousand kilometers away. He turned his ship to see better and to attack an incoming Romulan bomber. He dispatched it quickly, but not before it could fire a rocket. He looked at the two events as good as possible: on one side he saw the green balls strike the ships, little more than a second after they were fired, (*Effective, over a range of a few hundred thousand kilometers,* he thought in astonishment), and on the other side he saw the rocket ready to hit one of the satellites. A small, chemically propelled projectile was launched from the satellite's side that intercepted the rocket and exploded with it. The satellite lurched, then after a few white bursts of gas it stabilized itself.
Michaels turned to the right, aiming for another Romulan bomber. Apparently they had decided the biggest threat came from the satellites. He aimed and fired; the bomber exploded nicely. Michaels looked back at the satellite and the encircled missile battery satellite. A missile launched with a burst of chemical propellant. Michaels looked and saw the familiar Titan form - at first that is. After a few seconds, Michaels clearly saw it wasn't a standard Titan missile: it was far too short for that; the propulsion system seemed far more advanced. His observations were confirmed as the missile lurched forward, at about a quarter light speed he estimated, after a brief flash of light. He followed the missile to its target for about ten seconds, and saw how the green balls now took out any target that could threaten to take out the missile. Then it hit, dead center, on a Romulan carrier. First there was just a small blimp of light, indicating the impact, the carrier was too far away from him to see much more. Then, with brilliant white light, the entire carrier exploded, launching debris everywhere.
"Fuck," Michaels said through his comm system. "If this craft didn't have automatic blinders, I'd be blind." He looked around and saw a few more of the encircling formations and another three missiles being launched.
Yeah, me too. Damn that was bright, he heard a reply as he quickly turned his fighter toward a missile going right at a satellite and blew it away.
"Whoa," he said as he turned his craft back toward the Romulan carriers. "Guys are you seeing what I'm seeing?" He knew Romulans were seeing what he was seeing, because all of them were turning back and desperately heading for their mother ships.
Yeah, those are ours, right? Spark's voice came over the intercom.
"Oh, yeah," he said as a wall of fighters descended upon two Romulan carriers. They had no defense; they weren't expecting any attack from that direction. The fighters made quick work of the ship's defense systems and simply flew straight on at the hundreds of Romulan fighter craft desperately trying to get back to their ships and defend them. The Romulans started exploding everywhere. A few slower ships, Earth bombers, were still behind the carriers and Michaels saw exhaust fumes heading for the two crippled Romulan carriers. The bombers quickly veered off, steering clear of the impending explosions. Then Michaels could see explosions all across the carriers, ripping through them, and they exploded, a little less brightly, then the four other carriers that now exploded through missiles launched by the satellites. The Earth carrier, that was a little slower, now entered the scene and shot one of its nuclear missiles at another Romulan carrier. It was trying to turn toward the Earth ship, but it was too late. The missile struck and that ship too exploded in a brilliant ball of light and debris.
"Yes! We've got 'em by the balls!" Michaels roared.
Only half of 'em, Bull, Michaels heard Spark's icily serious reply.
"Whatta ya mean?" Michaels said, looking around to see if he was missing something.
Well, Spark's answer came, a smile creeping up her face and in her voice, half of 'em don't have balls.
"Very funny," Michaels replied, scowling at himself. He was now halfway to the Romulan carriers and on top of the fleeing Romulan fighters and he started blowing them away.
I certainly thought so, Michaels heard her grinning voice.
"Look at that!" Michaels said to her, watching Romulan fighters land in the remaining carriers and then the carriers slowly turning and moving away from Earth, "They're retreating: all of them."
I see it! we've won! We've won this battle, Spark's reply was full of joy.
Well done, people, came Dyson's voice. I think we're all up for promotion and a few medals.
Listen up, pilots, Berman's voice boomed through the intercom. A lot of those one man craft can no longer land. Capture a few of every type intact with the pilot alive and destroy the rest of 'em.
'Aye, sirs' from all the squadron leaders filtered through Michaels' comm system.
Berman out, Berman said then and he went off the air.
You heard the man, came Dyson's voice.
This was the turning point in the Romulan war.
~~X~~