Chapter 3 - Breaking Down
Mars Orbit- September, 2248
"Captain on the Bridge!" The call rang out as John Sheridan floated into the room. Officers and crew sprang to attention for a moment, whether they were bouncing across the room or strapped into their stations.
"As you were," he called out. In zero G it was necessary to give the command quickly, lest someone who had been on a ballistic trajectory smack into a bulkhead while maintaining a stance of attention. Sheridan made his way to the Captain's chair and strapped in. "Status report?"
His First Officer, newly promoted Lieutenant Commander Laurel Takashima did not unstrap from her station, but did turn her head and provided a crisp and succinct report. "Ship and crew are squared away and prepped for departure. All systems read nominal. The repair crews just finished connecting the power runs to the main battery not fifteen minutes ago. All laser cannon read operational and in the green. We're as good as we'll get, sir."
"Outstanding. And the fleet?"
"Much of it is already enroute to Point Omega. Eratosthenes is leading the way. We made it a priority to load the slowest civie ships first so that they could be the first to get underway. That way they'll be less of an anchor in case this turns into a tail chase. We're the last combat vessel still in orbit. Lexington departed over an hour ago. There are only three civie ships left, all ready to depart with us, all fast enough to keep up with us as long as we stay below eighty percent of maximum acceleration. Commander Sinclair has the Starfuries out, all of them, including ours, running up and down the line of travel, shepherding the little lambs. Eratosthenes should reach Point Omega within the hour. They'll wait a bit for the fleet to bunch up before taking some of them through to hyperspace."
Point Omega was the location selected for the fleet to jump into hyperspace. In order to ensure that the entire fleet wouldn't be destroyed if the Minbari showed up before loading was completed, Point Omega was located three light minutes away from Mars, at a ninety degree angle to the plane of the ecliptic. It was hoped that this would minimize the possibility of a chance encounter with Minbari forces, while also making it far enough away that any Minbari attacking Mars couldn't just roll up the fleet from the rear without allowing time for much of the fleet to escape.
A hidden hyperspace beacon had been placed at this location. It was assumed that the Io gate had been destroyed by the Minbari; but just in case a self destruct charge had been placed on the gate, and they would signal it to blow as the fleet departed. It was hoped that, between the shift in beacon location and the continuing hijinks being played with the Earth Alliance beacon network, the Minbari would have a difficult time following them.
"And what about our Minbari friends?"
"They've been bombarding Earth with precision beam strikes for the last thirty six hours. There has been some limited shuttle activity, and we believe that at least some limited ground forces have been deployed. They don't seem to want to commit much until they've reduced the ability of the folks on the ground to resist. These tactics might mean that they do not intend to exterminate the populace, but we just can't say."
"How about that little present I wanted arranged for them?"
"Dead Duck is in place and ready to go."
"Good. Any indications of Minbari headed this way?"
"No Minbari vessels on approach through normal space, but several ships have jumped to hyperspace over the last several hours. That's why we've been rushing the fleet out as fast as we could load them."
"Then we'd better get moving. Let the civies know that we are about to depart. Bring us to the proper heading and get us under way, acceleration at seventy-five percent."
"Aye, Sir." The Lieutenant Commander relayed the commands to the appropriate stations and, despite the inertial compensators, Sheridan felt the centrifugal forces pull him into his straps as the powerful Dreadnought spun agilely about. He was then shoved backwards in his seat as the main engines kicked in and propelled the ship rapidly forward.
Three seconds later, a horrific clanging and crashing sound reverberated throughout the ship. "Report," Sheridan barked, as the ship shuddered around him. It took a few seconds for Takashima to respond as she spun her console through the various data feeds from around the ship. Sheridan could tell when she realized what had happened. It was the moment she went beet red from the collar of her uniform right to her hair line. He hadn't even known it was possible for someone of Asian ancestry to blush that vividly. "Report!" he barked again as a second crash resounded through the ship.
"Ahh...that would be the number seven laser cannon turret, Sir. It was the last one being worked upon. It would appear that when the work crews connected the power runs, they neglected to secure the turret locking collar. Our rotation and acceleration were just right to cause the turret to pull out of it's mount. It is currently tethered to the ship only by the power runs, which are causing the turret to oscillate outward and then back into the ship." These words were punctuated by a third massive crash."
"Lieutenant Commander," Sheridan said in a quiet, deceptively calm voice. "Are you telling me that one of our Medium Laser Cannon turrets, the single most powerful energy weapon currently in use on any Earth Force vessel, is dangling off the side of the ship by the damned power cord?"
"The number seven turret, yes, Sir. We had a number of compartments exposed to vacuum. The gun crew escaped, but we have four crew members headed to sickbay for minor decompression injuries. I apologize, Sir. I should have caught this, and take full responsibility." Sheridan was impressed. Her voice barely squeaked at all, though that red blush of true mortification remained.
"Is the locking collar unsecured on any of our other turrets," he continued in that quiet, intense voice."
"Turrets four, eleven and fifteen are similarly unsecured, Sir. I have dispatched repair teams to secure them, but that cannot be properly done under acceleration, Sir. We can ensure the turrets do not detach, but only by locking them in place. They will not be functional until we can stop the engines and send out EVA repair crews." Her words were punctuated by yet another crashing sound.
"So what you are saying, Ms. Takashima, is that in less than a minute, without even seeing the enemy, we have lost nearly twenty-five percent of our offensive capability?"
"Yes, sir."
Sheridan sighed, and then chose to not explode at the poor officer. It really wasn't her fault. The repair teams should have known better, and there was simply too much happening too quickly for even a stellar officer like Takashima to stay on top of it all. "Is that all?" he asked.
"No, sir. The capacitors in the turret were charged for combat, in case the Minbari showed up. With the turret bouncing off the hull like it is, I'm concerned we could have an accidental discharge. There is at least the possibility, given the way the turret is swinging from the power leads, that if that were to happen the guns might actually be pointing at the ship when they discharge."
Sheridan bit back a curse, and then calmly asked her for suggestions.
"Given the danger to the ship sir, it might be prudent to blow the leads and just let the turret go."
"I'd rather not give up such a significant portion of our firepower at the beginning of this mission. Could we have repair crews secure it?"
"Not while under acceleration, Captain. Not unless you are willing to accept a significant number of casualties amongst the repair crews?"
"Pass."
"Could we stop accelerating? We could probably get it lashed down in twenty to thirty minutes."
"And the Minbari could show up at any time. No, we need to keep moving. Think, Laurel. There's another answer."
She looked up at those works, realizing that the Captain already had an answer, but wanted her to come up with it herself, as this was nominally her fault. But the simple understanding that there was a solution allowed her to relax and clear her mind. And then it came to her. "The number nine turret...if we spin it around in the right way, it could act as a fork, to catch and pin the number seven turret in place against the hull. It will be tricky, and temporary and kludgy as hell, but it could work. It might cause damage to the number nine turret or it's cannons, though."
"We can repair damage much easier than we can replace a lost turret. Make it happen, Laurel." And less than a minute later she had. The whole crew breathed a sigh of relief as the awful crashing ceased. "Now that's it's no longer banging around, it should be safer to get an EVA crew out there to secure the thing properly. Have them be careful. We're still under acceleration. Good job, Lieutenant Commander."
"Aye, Sir," she said, looking up with a smile.
This fleet might just make it after all, Sheridan thought to himself.
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There is no way this fleet is going to make it, Bester thought to himself as a small shove kicked him off of the Mother and back into space, along with the rest of the Black Omega squadron. His engines kicked in automatically at maximum thrust, just as planned, and the squadron went shooting up the strung out line of ships that made up the exodus fleet. As the G-forces increased rapidly, he heard a wild whoop of sheer joy come from Ensign Ironheart...again. "Do try to show a bit of decorum, Black Omega 6," he reprimanded mildly.
"Sorry, sir. I just love my job!" Ironheart had only been a Psi-Cop for a few months, but he had a lot of previous piloting experience, even in Starfuries, which made him a natural for Black Omega, but also meant that he didn't quite fit in with the rest of the hardened Psi-Cops.
"Well, I'm glad at least one of us is having fun. Now, if you will, let's focus on keeping these mundanes organized and moving. Commander Sinclair is quite exercised about keeping an eye on everything, which means none of us get's a moment's rest until the fleet is out of the system. Probably not even then," he added, after a moment's thought. "Fortunately, right now we don't seem to have any problems.
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"Captain, we've got a problem, a big one," Takashima called out. "This one's not my fault, Sir. It's not even on this ship," she added when he scowled at her. "We have mobs forming on over half a dozen ships. It seems a lot of the Marsies we scooped up are not happy about leaving Mars, much less the system. They are demanding to be returned to Mars. Things are already at near riot levels. We have the available troops and security personnel deployed, but the resources we have on any given ship are far less than what we had available down on Mars. We've got cadets deployed for crowd control on the Olympic….Oh, hell! Better make that two problems, Sir. Two dozen Minbari vessels just jumped into high Mars orbit."
"Put me through to General Lefcourt, now. And prep Dead Duck."
"Aye, Sir."
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"TAKE US BACK! TAKE US BACK! TAKE US BACK!" The chant reverberated throughout the Atrium Core of the Olympic. Formerly a luxury liner for the elite, the ship was basically an impressively sized yet mobile O'Neill Cylinder. The core of the ship was an enormous green space filled with trees and artificial waterways. It was a little odd to stroll down a path and see people having a similar stroll directly above you, but it was still nice to have a touch of nature in space. Despite the changes and crowding which had been wrought throughout the rest of the ship, the Atrium Core had been left mostly unchanged, as a space for the many tens of thousands of civilians crammed aboard to relax just a little. It was still crowded, but at least it didn't feel like the walls were closing in.
Unfortunately it was also the ideal place for large groups of people to gather, and that meant it was the perfect place for the formation of the mob that Cadet Susan Ivanova was currently staring down. The Academy had been slated for residence on the Olympic, which meant that, in order to balance military presence, there were extremely few Marines or GroPos aboard, and the security personnel couldn't be everywhere at once. Which was why, just over an hour ago, she and the rest of the cadets had been ordered into uniform and then hustled out of the barracks. The notion that this was just another training exercise had evaporated the moment she realized that her instructors and some Security personnel were issuing what appeared to be riot gear. She was given a riot vest which was a size too small, a helmet without a proper faceplate and which was at least a couple of sizes too large, and a stun baton.
They had been marched down to the Atrium Core and stretched in a thin double line across the passageways to the more sensitive and secure parts of the ship. For the time being the civies would be allowed to congregate, but would be contained in the Core. Their only orders had been to prevent the crowd (she hadn't been quite ready to call it a mob) from getting past them and accessing those areas. The only problem being, they had no real instruction and even less training on just how to accomplish those orders. A Security Officer, seeing them standing around like lost lambs, had hustled over and ordered the front line to hook their arms together, forming a human wall, and for the cadets in the second line to prepare to stop any breachers with whatever force was necessary.
And that was how Susan found herself holding onto the cadets on either side of her, her stun baton dangling uselessly from her belt, while she watched the mood of the crowd grow steadily darker. The appearance of the cadets had given them a focal point for their anger, and insults and trash were hurled at her in equal measure. At least Mars civies are too practical to throw precious fruit, she thought to herself. What appeared to be a drink container bounced off of her, right where the damned faceplate should have been, had she had proper gear. Blinking her eyes she watched in growing concern as the leading elements of the, yes it was now a mob, screwed up their courage and moved closer and closer to a physical altercation with the cadets, in an attempt to break through. Another piece of flying trash hit her vest and stuck. Good God, the smell coming off of it was atrocious. She really didn't want to consider just exactly what it was that was now stuck to her chest, just below her neck. Her helmet tipped forward into her eyes, increasing her ire. Feeling like she was playing Red Rover didn't help her mood any at all.
The first officer, NonCom actually, she had seen in nearly half an hour walked calmly down the back of the line, offering encouragement in a thick Irish brogue. "Tighten up, me boyos! D' nay let these college gobshites scare ye!"
Well that was terribly helpful, she thought to herself. She had been a college gobshite (whatever that was) herself just a year ago. And then the death of her brother in the war had caused her to change direction. She had joined Earth Force to honor and avenge him. But she had intended to fight Minbari, not civilians who were just scared and upset and mostly around her age.
And then the mob was upon them. Susan found a young man of average height screaming in her face. A tall statuesque blond, Susan guessed fleetingly that she was the girlfriend, stood just behind him, attempting to restrain him. He put his hands on Susan's shoulders and shoved, attempting and failing to knock her out of line. He shoved twice more, still failing to dislodge her as she struggled to remain in place, and the cadets of the second line braced her from behind. The line of cadets rippled as similar efforts were made up and down the line. The screaming of the mob redoubled, and then the man in front of her switched from shoving her shoulders to shoving her face. He just put his hand right on her nose and shoved, knocking her helmet off in the process.
Oh, hell no! Susan didn't really think about her next actions. She just unhooked her arms from the cadets to either side. The man, boy really, smiled in triumph, until Susan quickly reached up and grabbed his wrist and elbow, just as she had been shown in her sparring classes, and twisted. With a yelp he was spun around and went up on his tiptoes, as he found his arm chicken-winged behind his back. As rioters ran around her through the gap she had created, to tussle with the second line of cadets, she gave an angry shout and heaved upwards. There was a loud pop as his arm dislocated from his shoulder.
He didn't even scream, just immediately passed out and collapsed to the floor. Shocked at what she had done, Susan sent an apologetic glance towards the girlfriend, only to find the blonde's fist smashing into her jaw. Susan's vision tunnelled a bit, but now she was really angry, and she stepped in and drove an elbow into the side of that pretty face. The blonde cursed her and, with a flying tackle, took Susan to the ground. And that's when all hell broke loose.
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"Captain," Takashima called, "we've got all hell breaking loose on the Olympic! The cadets and security forces are in a running melee with the civilian population."
"Orders from the General?"
"General Lefcourt is dealing with another crisis. He commed to ask you to deal with the riots by whatever means you see fit."
"Captain! The Minbari above Mars are moving," called out the young Lieutenant running sensors.
"Destination?"
"They are moving into a lower orbit, Sir. They appear to be heading for a point directly above Mars Dome One."
"Dead Duck?"
"Right where it's supposed to be, Captain."
Sheridan thought for a moment, and then had an idea. "Relay visual feeds and radio chatter from our sensors around Mars to the Olympic...no, to all ships. Have the Captains broadcast them over their public address systems.
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The blonde was feisty, Susan would give her that much. Despite the fighting all around them, they had focused on each other, and found themselves quite evenly matched. Susan knew she would soon be sporting a number of vivid bruises from blows the woman had delivered. But, Susan finally had the upper hand...sort of. They were both on the floor, but her arm was around the blonde's throat, choking her from behind. Of course, that meant the blonde was laying directly on top of her. Susan had tried to reach her stun baton, but the damned thing was pinned underneath her.
With a squeal and flash the enormous vid-screens scattered around the Core flared to life. The large reddish planet slowly rotating in the background was clearly Mars, but the view was centered on a number of Minbari ships. There were at least a half dozen of their giant cruisers, and about twice that many of the smaller escort classes. The vessels were clearly headed towards the planet.
This feed must be coming from a stealth-sat, Susan thought. By now the Minbari will have destroyed just about everything else nearby. She had no more than had the thought when a green ray erupted from one of the Minbari vessels, casually sweeping some detritus out of their path.
The image shifted to a different angle, astern of the Minbari, and now the gleam of what had to be Mars Dome One could be seen on the Martian surface, appearing to be directly in the path of the Minbari fleet. And then, shockingly, a Minbari voice was heard in an open transmission. "All humans, prepare to be transported to Earth. Any resistance will be seen as the act of Warriors." As far as Susan knew, this had never happened before, and she didn't know what it would mean for the civilians left on Mars.
And then a voice, she believed it was the Mars Governor's, responded on the same open frequency. "Negative, Minbari craft. Mars has declared sovereignty from Earth, and neutrality in your war with them. We mean you no harm, and did not participate in any aggression against you. We will not allow our citizens to continue to be removed from their homes."
There was no further response from the Minbari, but the warships on the screen seemed to suddenly accelerate, rapidly moving away from whatever camera was recording them. The scene suddenly shifted to a wide angle lens situated on the Martian surface. Mars Dome One loomed large in the foreground. High in the sky above, the Minbari ships could be seen, little more than gleaming specs in the remaining evening sunlight. The Governor spoke again, a note of panic creeping into his voice. "Don't do it! We have women and children down here! Don't do it!"
He had barely ceased speaking when lines of green fire streaked down from the fleet above and began carving up the colony. They carved glowing lines across the dome, opening it to the Martian atmosphere. Within seconds the primary dome began to collapse. The beams them spread out and began to carve up the surrounding domes. Susan could only imagine the chaos and terror and carnage that must be occurring in those domes. The firing continued for much longer than would have seemed necessary. The Minbari were being very thorough. But finally, thankfully, the firing ceased.
Where previously there was bedlam, the Core was now nearly silent. Having released the blonde sometime during the attack on Mars Dome One, Susan felt the woman roll off of her and then stand. Susan followed cautiously, and looked around. The Atrium Core was a mess. Trees, furniture, and people had been scattered everywhere. Susan looked around trying to get her bearings. She heard soft weeping and sobbing coming from a number of directions. She was a bit surprised to realize that some of it was coming from the nearby blonde.
Feeling more that a bit uncomfortable, but also guilty over her actions during the chaos, she gingerly patted the woman on the back. "Hey, it'll be ok."
The sobbing didn't stop, but she heard a husky, bitter voice say, "What would you know? As far as I can tell everyone I love, everyone I know just died. What am I supposed to do now?"
"You survive. You've got your life. You've got Romeo over there," she said, gesturing to the still unconscious boyfriend. "And we pulled a lot of people off of Mars. You might just find that there are quite a few people you know in the fleet. It sucks, and your life is never going to be the same. But you honor the lost by fighting back."
"What would you know?"
"The Minbari killed my brother Ganya. He was a Starfury pilot in Earth Force. My father and almost everyone I knew growing up are still back on Earth, being slaughtered by the Minbari. I'm in the same boat you are. Literally," she said looking around again at the ship that would be their home for who knew how long.
"For the longest time, Earth was the only enemy I could imagine."
"Hey, I understand having past grudges. Believe me, I'm Russian, and we know all about holding a grudge," she said, thinking about her own vendetta against the Psi-Corp for what they had done to her mother. She wasn't prepared to share something so personal with a perfect stranger, though. Instead, she continued, "But the war with the Minbari...that's about humanity. It's about survival. What's your name?"
"Tessa...Tessa Holloran."
"I'm Susan…" Just then the screens flickered again, and she found herself looking at the one real hero to come out of the war so far. John Sheridan, who had destroyed the Black Star and her escorts. Who had served on the same ship as her brother Ganya. He was younger than she had expected, but radiated a wisdom and strength that grabbed every eye. And then he spoke.
"To all security personnel and Martian civilians in the fleet. As of right now, we make a new beginning. As you can see, there is no where to take you back to. The Minbari are busy destroying both Mars and Earth. No action will be taken against anyone who may have engaged in any questionable activities up to this point. You get a free pass. Make the most of it. We're all in this together. Now return to your quarters. The Minbari may come after us next, and things could get a bit rough. Oh, and I'll be leaving the video feed of the Minbari running for the next few minutes. We may just have a surprise for them you might enjoy. Sheridan out."
His face was replaced by another scene of the Minbari warships. They had mostly ceased firing, though a stray shot still speared out every so often, cutting into some newly detected target. When it didn't appear that anything would be happening immediately, Susan glanced around and realized that Tessa was starting to get emotional again. Tapping the young woman on the shoulder, she nodded at the recumbent boyfriend. "Come on. I'll help you get Romeo back to his bunk."
"Actually, we haven't been assigned quarters yet. We were supposed to, but then the crowds started to form, and ...and he's always been very passionate about independence...so we just kind of followed along. Why do you keep calling him Romeo?
"He's your boyfriend or husband or something, isn't he? I'll use his name if it's important to you."
"Boyfriend. Don't worry about the name. I thought it was serious, but then I never thought he was the kind of man to hit a woman...even one in an Earth Force uniform and riot gear."
"Well, at least let me help you get a bunk assigned. You don't want to leave that for the last minute. We're so short on space, I hear they're putting people up in the sewage reclamation plant."
Tessa finally smiled. "I think I'll take you up on that." Growing serious again, she nodded down at the man whom, just a few hours ago, she had assumed she would marry. Now she was not so certain. "I suppose we should bring him as well."
"Well, let's get started then." Susan bent down and drew one of his arms over her shoulders, and waited for Tessa to do the same. Nodding at each other, they straightened their legs and drug the man into a standing position, dangling between them. They then set off slowly towards the recently established civilian administration offices.
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The CIC was completely silent. No one so much as cursed the Minbari butchers. Taking a deep breath, Sheridan cleared his throat. "Status of Dead Duck?"
"Primed and in position. The Minbari fired into it a few times, probably to make sure it was dead, but they didn't penetrate the armor."
Dead Duck was the codename for the tramp freighter Large Barge. As it's name would imply, it was a very large vessel, mostly used for hauling ore mined in the asteroid belt to Mars and Earth. It had been mauled in a Minbari deep raid, but while the hull and reactor had been breached and the crew lost, the reactor had successfully SCRAMed and did not detonate, leaving the ship more or less intact. John had come up with the idea of towing it to Mars, and placing it in a stable Mars orbit that took it over Mars Dome One every ninety minutes.
They had access to two resources that would hopefully make Dead Duck an effective surprise for the Minbari. The first was armor. A steady progression of torn up and shredded Novas and Hyperions had been run through Operation Exodus. Each was repaired, damaged armor and hull plating removed and replaced, and when they were back in fighting trim, Earth Force would find a reason to pull them elsewhere. What that left was a lot of bits and pieces and slabs of the best armor plate Earth could design. Not to mention the repair plates which were on hand but hadn't been used. John had ordered that armor used to build a large container inside of Dead Duck's main hold. Welders had worked for a long time piecing it all together, and the finished product was far from pretty, but in the end they had an armored box with sides eight times thicker than the frontal armor of a Nova. Of course, it was what was in the box that was the true heart of Dead Duck.
The Nova class dreadnought was known for its eighteen medium laser cannon. It was one of the most powerful primary batteries amongst the races that Earth had contact with. But, in addition to those cannon, the Nova was also armed with a pair of axial mine launchers, capable of tossing out one hundred megaton mines. These were area denial weapons, not terribly accurate, and of necessity had to be used at range. That generally wasn't a problem, given their yield. However, against the Minbari, whose stealth became more effective with range, it made them all but useless. If any of those mines used in the war to date had bothered the Minbari at all, they had shown no signs of it.
Earth Force's solution to the problem had been simple...get a bigger hammer. They decided to aim for a yield increase of at least an order of magnitude, and thus a one gigaton mine had been prototyped. Unfortunately, between the increased mass and the increased yield, the mine launchers on the Nova could not safely employ the new mines. Upgraded mine launchers were slated to be installed on the new Omega class vessels, but now not even the prototype of that class would be launched.
As EarthGov had crammed more and more of their scientific and technical experts and gear into the Exodus fleet, General Lefcourt had suddenly found himself in possession of three one-gigaton mines...and wanted nothing at all to do with them. Using those mines from the existing mine launchers of the Nova would have been dangerous even for that vessel. It would be the height of folly to use them anywhere around the thin skinned civilian vessels that made up the bulk of the fleet.
And so he had them locked away, until John Sheridan noticed them on his inventory lists, and had a bright idea. Now all three mines were stuffed in the armored box in Dead Duck's hold. Several other ships in various stages of deconstruction had been placed all around the freighter, making the whole group look like an orbital scrapyard. Any stray radiation from the mines should easily be blocked by the layers of armor surrounding them. But if any should still escape, it would be swamped by the radiation still leaking from the freighter's clearly gutted reactor. And since all of the armor was inside the hold rather than on the exterior, any weapons fire directed at the ship would still appear to carve it up just like what it was...a thin skinned civilian vessel. Indeed, several Minbari fighters had fired on the vessel while securing the orbitals, just to ensure it was dead, and none had noticed a thing. The whole setup was the best trap Sheridan could design.
That trap was coming up over the horizon, and would pass within five kilometers of the Minbari formation. Sheridan had taken his best guess and gotten lucky, anticipating almost exactly where the Minbari would be if they chose to fire on the Mars colony. He had also gotten lucky on timing. With an orbital period of just over ninety minutes, it was entirely possible that the fleet could have come and gone while the trap was on the wrong side of the planet. Despite the intricacy of and resources poured into the trap, the whole thing was a shot in the dark, a roll of the dice. But Sheridan had rolled the hard six, and Dead Duck would be in optimal firing position in under five minutes.
"Captain," called out the Lieutenant on sensors, "We are getting movement from the Minbari. They seem to be repositioning, perhaps to depart into hyperspace."
"Range?"
"Still too far. We need at least another couple of minutes."
Sheridan took a deep breath, and then said, "Send a signal to that fleet. The Minbari are talkative all of a sudden. Let's see if they will talk."
"Channel open, Sir," called out the Comms officer.
"Minbari vessels. This is Captain John Sheridan. I believe you may have heard of me. You have just committed an act of genocide against the people of Mars. Surrender now, and I won't be forced to destroy you." He gestured for the Comms officer to cut the signal and then asked, "Anything?"
"Nothing yet sir."
"Then we wait."
A few moments later the Sensors officer called out, "Change in Minbari heading. All ships repositioning...all ships now oriented on us."
"Comm signal from the Minbari, Captain," Comms said in a stunned voice. The Minbari had never answered a hail before.
"Put it up."
The face of a Minbari looked out at him with a sneer. "Hello, Starkiller. I am Alyt Sineval of the Trigati. I had been hoping it would be I who would have the chance to kill you. I learned your language just so I could understand your final words. The universe smiles upon me."
"Starkiller? Because I defeated the Black Star?"
"Because your cowardly tactics are fit only for murderers!"
"You attack us from outside of our weapons range, and hiding behind your stealth fields, and you call us the cowards?! You slaughter innocent civilians who have done you no harm, and you call us murderers?!
"There are no innocent humans. Dukhat's blood stains the hands of all of your barbaric race. But I wanted to thank you properly for revealing yourself to me. Your hands are stained with the blood of the Drala Fi'."
Sheridan glanced at the Sensors officer who gave a small shake of his head. "Well, then, I have some final words for you and your fleet, Alyt Sineval. You may have conquered the Earth Alliance, but you will never defeat humanity. After you're dead, Alyt, I am going to have to leave Earth behind for a while. But, to quote a famous Earth Warrior, 'I shall return.' Last chance to surrender, Sineval."
"Hollow words from a hollow species. We are coming for you, Starkiller. Right now." Jump points bloomed in front of the Minbari ships...too late. While they had been speaking, Dead Duck had come to within a few miles of the Minbari ships, and Sheridan gave the order to detonate.
The design of the new mines was for a standard Fission-Fusion-Fission multi-stage boosted thermonuclear device. However, in order to maintain the same dimensions as the mines currently in use on the Nova class, a complete redesign and additional miniaturization was necessary. The three mines on board the Dead Duck were all prototypes, and field testing had been minimal. Despite this, two of the mines successfully detonated at very nearly their maximum yield. The third failed to achieve proper neutron propagation across its top layer and fizzled, exploding with the force of "only" 300 megatons. Regardless, Dead Duck detonated with a total yield well in excess of two gigatons. It also just happened to be wrapped in enough armor to make for the most devastating shrapnel cloud any human had ever considered.
The Trigati was closest to the blast, and simply ceased to exist. The ships further away did not fare much better. One other Sharlin and three Tinashis were destroyed by the initial radiation burst, but the following shrapnel cloud was far worse. Spreading out in all directions, is simply shredded the Minbari fleet. One particular thirteen ton fragment punched right through a Sharlin, then a second, and ended up lodging itself in a Tinashi on the far side, which promptly lost control of its reactors and self destructed. By the time the shrapnel cloud had passed, all that remained of the fleet was a single battered and perforated Tinashi and a double handful of fighters. The Tinashi had been on the far side of the fleet and in the blast shadow of a Sharlin. It was dead in space and streaming atmosphere from dozens of penetrations, but much of the crew survived. The Nials had been on long range perimeter patrol, and had survived entirely intact. In total, eight Sharlin and fifteen Tinashis had been snuffed out. It was the single worst military loss the Minbari had suffered since the last Shadow war.
Ecstatic cheering broke out all around Sheridan. Takashima broke in softly, "Captain, the remaining Tinashi is drifting without power. We did not detect any signals to their main fleet around Earth…. We may have time to turn around and finish them off."
"No. Our primary mission is still to get these civilians out of the system. Don't be fooled by what just happened. The Minbari are still more than capable of wiping us out. Besides, let the survivors spread the tale of what we did to them. Now let's get out of here before their main fleet realizes we're getting away. How long until all vessels are out of the system?"
"About half an hour, Sir. Sorry, I mean Starkiller."
"None of that, Lieutenant Commander. Now, let's get these people clear."
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Hyperspace, Nearing the Sol System - September, 2248
Admiral Shinali Voktal looked out over his fleet; over five hundred saucers rushing through hyperspace to an uncertain fate. The Vree hadn't concentrated so much firepower since the Dilgar war, perhaps not even then. Struggling with his trepidation, he turned to his cousin Milashi, who was the representative of the Ventuki Conglomerate and officially in charge of this expedition. Of course, Milashi didn't know a thing about taking ships into combat, which was why Shinali had the command. "Cousin. Are we sure about this course of action? We dice with fate."
"Life is about risk...and reward. We have to make the Minbari see reason. We owe the humans that much. And if we can accomplish the task, it will be the humans who owe us. Besides, the Drazi are sending a fleet of their own. Humans are a very emotional species. We can't let the Drazi use this to monopolize trade with the Earth Alliance. And, honestly, a universe without the humans would be a much darker place."
"But how does standing with the humans in this way accomplish that? The Minbari are so powerful and advanced. Even if we survive, we will take devastating losses, and I do not know how we could possibly stop the Minbari."
"We do not believe that the Minbari will risk a war with the League as well as the humans. There are too many of us. And even the Minbari respect the Yolu."
"The others races will never back us!"
"Perhaps, but the Minbari do not know that. Besides, the hope is that once they see other species standing alongside the humans, they will realize that they have misjudged the humans' value, and give them a chance to make amends. And don't forget that we, to, are an advanced race. Our capabilities are far in advance of what the humans have. But we need to hurry. The Minbari could attack Earth at any time. We need to get there as soon as possible, in order to be in position alongside the humans in their Line."
"We are making our best possible time. We have one concern. The beacon we are locked onto does not seem to be the same frequency as we have on record, and we are not detecting a gate, just a beacon."
"We know the humans have been playing with their beacons in order to slow the Minbari advance. A dangerous game, but not unexpected. If they have shut down their gate, we will just lock onto the beacon and use our jump drives to enter the system. Don't worry, they will welcome us when we get there."
"Certainly. Now all I have to worry about is being destroyed by the Minbari."
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Elizabeth Levy sat on the porch of a farmhouse deep in the French countryside. She was so tired, she just wanted to sleep. But instead she would just take a fifteen minute break and then go back to trying to coordinate her remaining ground forces, which were rapidly being decimated by the Minbari in orbit. In the week since the Battle of the Line had failed, the Minbari had only tried to land their ground forces three times, and received a bloody nose each time. But the forces which had repulsed them had in turn been completely destroyed by those damned invincible cruisers in orbit. Now, that kind of resistance was ending. Her forces were in chaos, and the Minbari were systematically destroying anything and everything that had anything to do with resistance.
A few days ago something had sent the Minbari into a fury, and they increased the rate of bombardment while also broadening their targeting parameters to include more civilian infrastructure. She hoped that it was the escape of the Exodus fleet, but they had lost deep space sensors, so she really had no way to be certain. They had detected a massive explosion around Mars, so it was just possible that John Sheridan's wild gamble had worked and he dealt the Minbari another sucker punch. The odds of that weren't high, though, and she chose not to engage in wishful thinking. Of course, just trying to hold out was wishful thinking. She didn't know how much longer this refuge would remain hidden.
The farmhouse sat atop a bunker buried five hundred meters below the French countryside. It was designed to resist WMDs, but she doubted it would hold up to Minbari weaponry. She really shouldn't be on the surface, but she just had to get away for a moment, and who was going to tell the President no? At least their communications were secure. They were routing all comm traffic through the ancient internet backbone which still crisscrossed the world. Those cables had degraded over the centuries, but they had been built well, and were still at least somewhat functional. Enough for limited communications. And there was no way the Minbari would ever consider that they might be using something so primitive. The thing was practically a semaphore, for goodness sake!
Her Chief of Staff rushed out onto the porch. "Madame President, you need to see this."
He began to set up a small video display, and she now felt guilty for having left the bunker, where he would not have to go to such lengths. "What's going on George?" she said, curious despite her fatigue.
He turned to look directly at her. "A Vree fleet just jumped into High Earth Orbit. The Minbari are in a tizzy."
She was stunned. "A relief fleet? They said they wouldn't risk helping us."
"I'm not sure what else they could be. The Minbari are moving to challenge them. They are broadcasting in the clear to ease communication, so we may be able to listen in."
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Milashi Voktal stared at the displays, stunned. They had not emerged near Io, as expected, but directly into Earth orbit. They were completely surrounded by a Minbari fleet numbering in the high hundreds of ships. The Earth Force fleet was so much rubble drifting through the orbitals. And Earth itself...Earth burned. The Minbari were repositioning their fleet into an offensive formation. They were too late. They were too late.
"The Minbari are hailing us," notified the Vree on Communications duty.
Milashi froze. The future of the Vree might depend on the next several minutes. What would he do? What could he do?
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"We're getting something." The static on the vid cleared up, to reveal a split screen image with a Vree bridge on the right, and a trio of Minbari on the left. She felt that she might have known the Vree standing in the middle of the Bridge, but it was so hard to tell with them. The three Minbari were a youngish female flanked by a pair of much older males. They were wearing grey robes. Might this be the mysterious grey council which they knew so little about? By this point, several more of her command staff had joined them on the porch, and she felt another moment's guilt for drawing them out.
The female in the middle spoke, and oddly enough, she used English. "The Minbari see you, and we would like very much to know why you are here," she said in a mild tone of voice. "I greet you in this language because we know you understand it. Are you perhaps here to defend the humans?"
"No, of course not," the Vree responded through a translator program. Elizabeth heard a murmur of both surprise and disappointment escape from many of those around her. She heard someone behind her ask softly why the Vree would use language cards if they had translation software. Another responded that it was probably one of their crazy and excessive pranks. Elizabeth could only agree to that, the Vree loved their practical jokes, but she shushed sharply for silence, as the alien conversation was continuing.
"But you have very close trade ties with the humans," the female Minbari pressed. "They very nearly became part of the League of Non Aligned Worlds. It is said that the Vree are some of the Humans' best friends. Surely you are here for them?"
"No, the Vree came to observe."
The male on the left spoke up. "It was the humans who rescued your species from the Dilgar, was it not? Saved you from extinction? Fought next to you to push back those you feared? It seems...unlikely...that you are not here for them."
The Vree was looking desperate now. Elizabeth almost felt sorry for him. And then he replied. "The humans….the humans are arrogant. Conceited. Abrasive. Always throwing their weight around and believing they are justified, in the right." Elizabeth heard someone behind her ask if he was describing humans or Centauri. Another called the Vree a bastard. "The Vree…," continued the desperate alien, "the Vree have no love for them. We...we can barely stand them. I told you, we are here to…"
"To observe," spoke up the third Minbari, tallest of the three. "Yes, we heard you. How fortunate for you that you came just in time to watch us finally end the humans coordinated resistance." There were murmurs of dismay and worried glances all around her at that statement. What could he mean? He continued. "But let us get to the heart of the real problem, shall we? You do not need over five hundred ships to 'observe.' Do you think the Minbari could not see through such an absurd lie? You brought a battle fleet, hundreds of warships, and you expect us to believe that you are not here to fight? You came to kill Minbari. You are just terrified because you thought there would be humans here to protect you!"
"No! That's not true." The Vree had a pretty good poker face, but to Elizabeth's eye he looked terrified. "We...we hate the humans. They have proven themselves to be no better than the Dilgar. Didn't they attack you unjustly?" At these words there was near silence all around her, except for her Chief of Staff quietly saying that Son of a Bitch, mostly to himself. The silence was broken by the thunder of a finger of green fire, spearing down from the heavens and striking less than a kilometer away. The roar was interspersed by panicked screaming as the beam swept directly towards them.
But, the Vree was still speaking. "We brought a warfleet because we...we are here to offer our assistance. The humans are no better than the Dilgar. They are violent and aggressive and barbaric. Kill them all." As Elizabeth heard the Vree repudiate humanity for the third time, a cock crowed, perhaps confused by the sudden appearance of the blinding light from the heavens. And then the beam arrived, and swept the animal, the President, and all hope away.
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Hyperspace, Exodus Fleet - September, 2248
General Robert Lefcourt felt like he was losing all hope. He sat in his bunk and downed a spacer's bulb of single malt scotch. He blinked away unshed tears, so he could stare again at his vid-screen, which was looping the few videos he had of his wife and daughter. Well, ex-wife. A military career was hard on a marriage, and theirs hadn't lasted.
He didn't mind the watery eyes. It was better than red and gritty, which they had been more and more lately. In the week since their escape from the Sol system, he had struggled to keep the fleet running through the chaos of integration and flight. It had been one emergency after another, and he hadn't gotten more than two, maybe three hours sleep in a row in that entire time. He had to admit that part of that was the fact that he didn't want to sleep, because that was when the dreams came, and the guilt he couldn't escape.
He had begged Janice to come to Mars, and bring little Sally. He had gotten permission to tell them about the fleet, and procured seats for them both. But Janice had refused. She wanted to be with her family, and not him. There was no way she was letting go of Sally. And so now they were probably both dead, and all he had left of them were some stupid vids, and it was all his fault because he couldn't be bothered to be a proper husband. He grabbed another bulb of scotch and drank that to. He really should be sleeping now, but he just couldn't. He had to be back on duty soon anyway. There was always more to do.
His eyes alighted on the pearl handled slug thrower that idiot Jankowski had been playing with when he had brought the man back into the fold. When the man hadn't answered his repeated knocks, he had glanced in the window to see him with the gun against his head, repeatedly cocking the hammer and pulling the trigger. Robert had almost panicked, and had run back to the door and kicked the thing in, in time to see Jankowski pull the trigger one more time and then drop the weapon to the floor.
That had been at least five, maybe six pulls. When Robert had examined the weapon, he had found five out of the six chambers contained rounds. The idiot didn't even know how to play Russian Roulette properly. Clearly either the gun was defective or the bullets were. Why would the man be playing suicide games with a nonfunctional weapon? Was he seeking attention? Was it therapeutic is some way? Cathartic?
God, he could use some catharsis right about now. He drank yet another bulb of scotch, and made a note that he needed to stop. His supplies wouldn't last forever, and he really needed to be back on duty in the next few minutes. Hell, someone was likely to come seeking his input at any moment. He kicked off from his bunk and drifted across the room to where the gun was secured to the wall. He wasn't quite sure why he had chosen the bring the thing along. Maybe it was meant to be a reminder of Jankowski, and to not make the same kinds of foolish mistakes as that man. Jankowski was dead now, and hopefully he had died bravely in the Line, but Robert had his doubts.
Robert unstrapped the gun and stared at it, then back at the screen, where his daughter was building a sandcastle on one of their rare trips to the beach. Catharsis. Maybe it would help. He opened the cylinder and extracted four of the five shells. At least he knew how the damned game was supposed to be played. It was time that he got back to duty. No rest for the weary, but he could take a few seconds for his own mental health.
The rattle when he spun the cylinder, and the heavy ratcheting feel of drawing the hammer back were actually rather comforting, in a visceral sort of way. This is stupid, he thought. How could this possibly help?
At that moment he heard a knock at his door, and Commander Sinclair's voice say, "Sorry to wake you, General. Could we have a word?"
It seemed that duty called. Back to work. Already thinking of the thousand and one things he needed to do during his next duty shift, he kicked off towards his door to welcome in the Commander, absent mindedly placing the gun against his head and pulling the trigger.
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When the strange bark of sound penetrated the door, Jeff Sinclair turned to his new friend Garibaldi and asked, "What the hell was that?" Then, turning back to the door without awaiting an answer he called out, "General? General Lefcourt?"
Garibaldi answered him anyway. "Ohhh hell! If that's what I think it was…" Shouldering the Commander out of the way, he entered his security override into the keypad by the door. The door slid open onto a scene from hell. A fine red mist pervaded the room, interspersed with larger red droplets and chunks of….of flesh and human hair. It was all floating chaotically around the room in the zero grav conditions. As the mist contacted the walls, it slowly began to paint them red. They noted an archaic weapon drifting one direction across the room, and in the other… in the other direction drifted the body of General Robert Lefcourt, much of the side of his head missing.
Behind him, through a red tinged vid-screen, they saw a smiling little girl saying "I love you, Daddy!" next to a woman who was clearly her mother. A larger gobbet of blood struck the screen and obscured her face.
Michael turned to Sinclair, and could think of only one thing to say. "What the hell do we do now?!"