Chapter 4
One Enemy at a Time
Proxima III:
Thirty EAS warships and their support ships exited the multiple jump points created in the Proxima system slowly began establishing their stationary orbits, joining the other forty ships already present. Thirty troop carriers with nearly a hundred thousand soldiers had already landed near the former colony, securing the area and establishing fortifications. Colonel Paul Griffin, Second in command of the Defense expedition and the rest of the crew onboard the EAS Evanston watched in awe as the largest collection of battleships since the Defense-of-the-line moved into formation.
"Impressive sight," General Pickett said. The short, sandy-haired man in his early fifties turned and beckoned Paul to follow him to his quarters.
The Colonel closed the door behind him and sat opposite the General. "Things have changed, sir. A few weeks ago, the government was on the brink of collapse," he said softly enough to make sure no one else could hear. "
"Don't worry, Paul. I've had this place searched twice. We can talk."
"Good, sir."
"Between the Psi-Corps purge and our President's policy on aliens, I'm a little surprised myself. But this war changes everything. We now have a legitimate war that everybody can stand behind and our Government is milking if for all it's worth. All of a sudden everybody loves the President and he can do everything he wants. He'll have more control than ever. And this Ministry of Peace crap, overseeing our every move…"
"We'll have to worry about that later. Right now I'm not sure if we can handle the Centauri, even with the force we have here."
He and every Earth Officer knew the Centauri had the advantage of superior firepower and overall speed of their ships. Tactically, their Vorchans could outrun and out maneuver Earth Force ships. And the Primus cruisers, although slower, were heavily armed with particle weapons that could cut just about any other ship known, into pieces. Combined with almost a thousand years of practice in space combat and tactics meant that Earth and its allies were in dire straits.
But then that was why Shatterfist were here, he mused.
The heavy plasma canons, originally developed to hit and destroy the Federation Starships, were now about to be used to defend the Proxima star system.
There was a collective humiliation enveloping the entire Earth Force when the colony had been lost. The first embarrassment was the forced occupation of a human civilian colony by order of EarthGov. The second was the loss of that same colony and its millions when the same blockade force was forced to retreat leaving helpless men women and children helpless. That was a stain every solider in Earth Force had felt.
"It'll be tough, no doubt," the General continued. "Their fighters can outturn ours. The only real advantage we have is that they don't have Minbari stealth technology," he said in exasperation, laughing at the irony. "But we learned a lot from the Minbari war and we can still hit them hard. They're about to reap the whirlwind, as my grandfather used to say. Sneak attacks pisses off humans. That's something that they're about to learn. Shaking his head in frustration: "I wish we had gotten Higgins's fighter sooner!" Pickett growled.
The innovations, from the compact nuclear reactor to the target acquisitions, to the hull plating…there wasn't enough time to really sufficiently study and start reproducing them. But he also concerned about what would happen next.
In the distance he could barely pick out the Federation vessel's position. "The more I see of them," he continued, "the less I like it. We may, and I stress, may win this war, but what happens when the Federation decides to move in? We'll be weakened and won't be able to withstand their strikes."
"Sir," Griffin said carefully. "I don't believe that Picard's people will attack us. They're trapped here in this universe with no place to go and no way to get back."
"Alternate universe?" The General smirked. "You really believe that?" He snorted loudly. "I have seen a lot of things in my time but I can't accept that. I can only see the evidence and it says otherwise."
The Colonel knew exactly what evidence the General was referring to. The Ganymede II had found the remains of the Klingon derelict at the far edges of explored space. Even now, the explore vessel was on its way back with a treasure trove of artifacts and information. It would take years to properly exploit the technology. Already, they were breaking it down and sending squirts of data back to EarthGov. They caught a break with the subspace transmitter-receiver that had remained mostly intact. And the hand disruptor had pointed weapons R&D in entirely new directions.
"The derelict doesn't prove that they are not from another reality. In fact, it presents strong evidence that they're from this universe and that they are lying. We need to find out where they are before they decide on a course of action against us."
"With all due respect, sir, I don't agree. This may indeed be evidence that they are lying to us, but we also don't have all the pieces yet. The evidence I've seen onboard the Ambassador has almost convinced me of their sincerity. Sir," he continued, "my gut suggests that they are telling the truth."
Pickett cocked his eyes towards the younger Colonel. "I saw the padd," he retorted. Captain James T. Kirk. Yes," he conceded. "You do look like him, except for the sideburns and the obvious hair transplant. But all those exploits attributed to one man and his crew? I don't think so, especially the so-called Voyager probe mission. A self-aware, organic machine the size of Texas and Nevada? The whale mission? Ludicrous! Lets' not forget the forging of the Federation-Klingon treaty which actually makes them more allies rather than enemies. Please! No man can do all those things." Clearly, the General and half of Earth Force had studied the data padd, indeed had almost memorized it because of seeing it so many times.
"Sir, it could be a fake," he conceded.
"But you believed it, don't you Paul?"
"Yes sir," came the firm answer.
"Why?"
"Because when I see a that image of this Captain Kirk, I see myself coming to many of the same conclusions that he made. He doesn't have my personality, but he does have the same psychological makeup; that much is clear," he finished. He could feel it. The basic personality traits were there. "The files are to detailed and there were other things, Sir. And Sir, the Ambassador is less advanced than the Enterprise. Everything is far to detailed to be a fabrication."
A smallish Federation vessel, a Runabout, they called it, flashed past the window, and the General tracked it with hooded eyes. "Look at that," he said, pointing to the rapidly vanishing starcraft heading directly for the equally alien White Star commanded by Commander Ivanova. "That ship shouldn't even be able to move at all!"
The sight of the small vessel had also enraptured Griffin, as well. "Those glowing red coils are a part of the impulse drives. They use an advanced form of magnetoplasmadynamic thrust. The magnetic and electric fields provide the ship's movements."
"And you learned this where?"
"I asked them when I was onboard the Ambassador," he said with a hint of amusement. "It's in my report sir. That information was unclassified."
The General softened, and then hardened once more. He had forgotten that potion of the report submitted by Brindley and the others including Griffin. "That's exactly my point, Paul. These people are dangerous. If I had my way I'd take that ship out right now, while we had the opportunity and the manpower."
Griffin stiffened as it was made clear that his Commander was seriously considering that option right here, right now.
"Sir, if we tried that," he said attempting to convince Pickett that was also mulling over the possibilities. "They could wipe out half the fleet with their long distance torpedoes before we could even get into firing range. As you know, the Pournelle was hit by two of them and that blast was equal to an eighty megaton nuclear strike! One two-megaton strike directly against the hull of an EAS ship or even a Minbari warship is sufficient to vaporize it. If they decide to attack us, at the FTL speeds of their torpedoes, we wouldn't even realize that we were dead until long after we were vapor. Sir, their shuttle weaponry can cripple or obliterate an Omega and their screens would protect them from any defensive response-if we could even hit them."
The general frowned even more. His subordinate was correct. "Earth alliance have colonies on over two dozen worlds in fourteen solar systems. I don't know how big their Federation-of it exists-is, but I believed that we just might have been able to hold our own against them once we discovered their existence and had a chance to study their technology. Then this Centauri mess started up. If they attack us now, we wouldn't have a chance." He rubbed his forehead. "But our time will come."
Griffin was dubious at best. He believed that the Federation did exist, but as they had told him, in another universe. They weren't coming here. And if they did, Earth wouldn't stand a chance against them on their own. The General was full of false bravado, but he knew better. The Minbari war had proven just how weak Earth really was when facing off against a superior enemy. "Sir, it's true. Our military forces are far stronger than they were thirteen years ago but we do not have the technical resources to deal with another war of that magnitude. This war with the Centauri will push us to the limit and with our stance on the colonies…"
Intraship comms beeped. "General to the bridge."
Immediately both officers left towards the command center.
Pickett rubbed his forehead as they approached the bridge. "The Warlock program is off the ground and it will put us on an even par with just about everybody. Our time will come and we will deal with this Federation also, if it comes to that."
"Sir, with all due respect, I hope not," Griffin responded," as they stepped into the transport tube. Sighing, both men left the comfort of the rotational section and headed towards the gravity-free bridge section. As the entered, the General froze. Captain Drake was brick-faced red with anger and fear.
On the captain's chair lay a basket of fruit; and a note, which read: To the Captains of the EAS with my compliments. Jean-Luc Picard.
The radio officer was latterly overwhelmed as comms traffic was chocked with voices. Evidently most of the larger ships had received similar baskets on their own bridges.
The wrapped basket floated gently in zero g . And a sober Paul Griffin watched silently at the emotional battle raging in front of him. Captain Drake was torn between slamming the basket into the nearest bulkhead or firing a nuclear missile at the Enterprise with the words Thank You, you s.o.b., painted on the warhead.
"Their targeting computers are quite precise," mumbled a subdued General Pickett. He understood the message carried by the fruit. It could have just as easily been a nuke resting on the chair instead of apples and oranges.
"He must be thinking along the same ideas as us," Griffin said dryly while looking at a completely intimidated Drake. Even now he was still chaffing from his disastrous encounter with the Federation Starships months ago. He lost the fight at B5 decisively and his command was almost obliterated. The man still harbored hatred for Picard and the rest of them and this little incident didn't help matters as far as he was concerned. And he knew Picard wouldn't care in the slightest. As for himself, Griffin was glad for the little demonstration that would serve to keep his people from doing something stupid.
"I suggest we deal with Picard, Garrett and the rest later," he softly suggested to the general. "As for me, I'm glad that they're not shooting at us."
"The General, after a moment nodded his head-once. "I agree," he whispered. "For now."
The Runabout they'd been watching suddenly flashed out of sight. Instantaneously, another flashed appeared in the area of the Enterprise-D.
"The shuttle just made a micro jump to the Enterprise," a scanners officer called out. As per orders, the man had never taken his eyes of the starship since he had been on duty. "I couldn't detect any time separation between the time they jumped and then re-entered normal space." Nearby, two more flashes appeared near the starship. "Sir, the Fed ship's energy signature just shot up by a factor of twenty."
"Put it on the main viewer."
The screen presented a computer representation of the Enterprise and its energy shield surrounding it.
"We're being hailed."
"Onscreen," Drake snapped. Griffin and Pickett said nothing as Drake coldly acknowledged Picard.
"Our subspace probes and scans have detected a large body of ships heading towards Proxima III." His face disappeared, replaced by a three dimensional image of the incoming targets. The probes, placed in strategic positions around the system, themselves had been re-configured to detect moments in hyperspace. The Runabouts monitoring the probes had just hightailed it back to the safety of the home system.
The crews of every ship that received the transmissions were shocked at the size of the fleet coming to engage them, almost as much as their realization that the Federation ships could indeed track objects in hyperspace. Many of the figurations silhouetted were conclusively Centauri. But there were other ships as well including one fourteen kilometer long behemoth, slowing down even now in hyperspace to disgorge an additional dozen ships to add to the already huge battle fleet.
Recovering quickly, the EAS crews began fast and furious preparations for the battle dropping into their laps. Captain Drake's shocked expression quickly turned into fierce determination.
"It'll three to one odds and we were almost completely caught off guard. We haven't even completed our defenses yet. My God, if they had jumped without us knowing, we-"
"Less analysis, Drake," Griffin said, irritated by the man's need to talk while preparing to do what he was trained for. "This is not the time! Order the fleet to prepare."
"Launch everything!" The General's face flushed with relief by the advanced warning. They now had a whole twelve minutes. And this time they wouldn't run.
Fighters began launching and the crews onboard the capital ships and those soldiers on Proxima III rushed to defend themselves. Novas begin to move into defensive positions supported by Hyperions and the smaller EAS gunboats.
"Sir, according to the scans, they appear to be setting up to attack us in two waves, with the second wave flanking us. At first, it'll be just about one–to-one odds. And then, we'll be between the hammer and anvil."
"ETA of our other twelve ships will be three hours, ten minutes." Which may be far too late, Drake added silently.
Behind him Griffin and Pickett apparently agreed. "We'll have to cut them down as soon as they exit their jump points. They won't expect it and we will have the advantage of the first strike." He looked the others squarely in their eyes. "We'll need every advantage we can get."
Next: 'Bait'