Beyond Mars Crimson Fleet (27 page)

On the day the Arris
attacked, it was Richard’s first time out on the hull alone, making
necessary repairs to the communication antennas that were damaged
from a small chunk of rock that had somehow penetrated the shields.
A little uneasy about the repairs, he decided to put his good luck
charms on.

It had taken a long time to
get into his space suit because of them. It had slowed the repairs
he made to the damaged antennas on the hull. And it had delayed him
from re-entering the ship.

Suddenly, Wakinyan’s mind
drifted into the nightmare that he had lived so many times. Still
safe within his spacesuit, he had just re-entered the ship when the
hull was ripped open by several laser blasts. He felt the vibration
and watched the failure of the air lock to pressurize.

Richard shuttered in his
bed as beads of cold sweat formed on his face.

He manually forced the air
lock to finally open, but his suit’s instruments indicated that the
ship had totally lost its atmosphere. Richard then franticly made
his way through darken corridors and over debris—and bodies—to the
bridge. What he saw, however, he never spoke of.

The Arris were quick in
boarding the stricken vessel. They first invaded the armory, next
the engineering room, and then the bridge. Because of all the
bodies they found, they thought the entire crew was dead, but this
became their fatal mistake; Richard Wakinyan still
lived.

Richard retrieved the only
weapon he could get to—the ancient warrior’s knife. Filled with a
terrible resolve, Richard began hunting down the alien enemy. And
as he came upon each of the black clad aliens, they swiftly
succumbed to the slicing and stabbing of his blade. Only the last
four Arris on the bridge, did he fight as a group. Even though they
were armed with plasma weapons, the black bug-like figures were no
match for the fierce and skillful Lakota warrior or his unforgiving
rage. Wakinyan killed all of them mercilessly in a swirling dance
of death with the steel edged weapon.

* * * * *

Wakinyan yelled a
determined cry of battle as he jumped up on his bed and thrust the
great knife into empty air. He awakened from his nightmare and was
alone in his cabin once again. Still for a moment, his eyes were
locked on enemies that were long since dead. The trance, however,
was quickly broken. He finally looked around and realized where he
was.

Richard’s left hand came to
his face to rub away the reoccurring nightmare once more. He then
sheathed his knife and looked at his chronometer. He was only a
sleep for a little more than an hour.

Wakinyan lay back down and
turned on his side to get comfortable. But he was somewhat afraid
to go back to sleep, lest the nightmare repeat itself again. Still
he tried to rest.

Yet, his mind refused to
let go of the past. But although it drifted back in time again, it
went beyond the tragedy: onward to the Martian Military Academy and
life there.

He had graduated with
honors at the head of his class. However, the majority of other
cadets had always held him in contempt. The years of experience and
training that Wakinyan accumulated had bested his classmates at
every turn. It also had exposed their frailness of ego, lack of
skill, and failed attempts at coercion. Wakinyan wasn’t seven
anymore, but a warrior of twenty-three—and someone to be
feared.

Throughout school, Richard never allowed himself to be
intimidated again. This intimidation was usually
settled
off campus. And
regardless of their numbers, it was the bullies that took the
beatings and suffered humiliation. Besides, he was the only cadet
to ever be awarded the Martian Naval Cross for heroism,
articulating his part in the Arris War.

At
graduation, his abilities and accomplishments were well recognized
by the Martian Military High Command, and he was given something
that was completely unheard of before or since: captain’s rank and
his own ship to command. Wakinyan accepted both with pride to the
jealousy and envy of his
peers
. The vessel he received was the
last of the
Dolphin
class destroyers ever produced. Capable of fighting in space,
gaseous atmosphere or fluid environment, Number 2911 stood ready
for her new captain and crew.

The ship, however, had
never seen action, had never served in any fleet, nor had even been
formally commissioned. Instead, she had been mothballed almost
immediately with no name, just her serial number.

Eventually, she was turned
over to the Martian fleet, and then to Wakinyan who then pondered a
worthy title of her. As it was tradition to name Martian destroyers
after great warriors and heroes, Wakinyan, inspired by his beloved
uncle as well as the old war knife he carried, chose a most
deserving one.

On the
30th day of October 2239, old Earth calendar, the ship proudly rose
up from her berth and headed into the cosmos for space trials.
However, she was now more than Destroyer Number 2911 painted in
Martian colors, she was the
Crazy
Horse
. The ancient prophecies had come
true. The Lakota chief had indeed arisen from the grave to fight
again.

* * * * *

Interrupting Richard from returning to sleep, his
communicator began to beep with urgency. “Bridge to Deputy
Commander Wakinyan,” Randall’s voice called.

“For once, can’t you leave me be?” he questioned the
empty room as he lay on his bunk.

“Bridge to Deputy Commander Wakinyan,” Randall’s
voice called from the device again. “Rich, do you read me?”

Richard, still groggy from his brief slumber,
shakily touched a button on his communicator. “Wakinyan here, go,”
the man mechanically answered.

“Commander,” Randall’s voice was near alarm,” we got
a real bad situation here! You’re needed on the bridge
immediately!”

Wakinyan frowned wearily, but then quickly shrugged
it off. “I’m on the way,” the man responded as he sprung from his
bed and headed for the hatch.

Sprinting the entire distance down corridors and
passing crewmen, Wakinyan reached the bridge in record time. As he
entered, he heard the sounds of a space battle coming over the loud
speaker system.

“RIGHT GUARD, CAN YOU HEAR ME? THEY’RE THROUGH OUR
DEFENSES!” Captain Tara Nargis’ cried at a hysterical level. WE’RE
STARTING TO TAKE HITS! DO YOU HEAR ME?”

“Nargis, calm down. It doesn’t help the situation by
panicking,” Randall tried to reassure the woman.

“What’s the situation,” Wakinyan intervened. He saw
that his friend was visibly shaken and at a loss for thought.

“The colonist’s are under heavy attack by the
Crimson Fleet. They’re at the edge of their system,” Randall
reported and then swiftly displayed coordinates on the viewer.
“Here’s their position,” he pointed out.

Wakinyan
dashed to the navigator’s seat to size-up the situation. With his
sure fingers, the man swiftly tapped the button images on the
holographic screen of the navigational computer to display the
quadrant of star systems that filled the gap between the
Crazy Horse
and the
colonists. A band of red lights suddenly appeared, highlighting
possible solar systems as halfway points. Each system was then
zoomed in on in sequence by the computer and its properties listed.
Wakinyan smiled as a particular one caught his eye. He then began
to work out a plan—and a set of new coordinates.

“I’VE GOT CHILDREN ON BOARD, AND THEY’RE NOT ABOUT
TO TAKE PRISONERS!” Tara’s voice echoed again in chilling fear.

Randall gritted his teeth in frustration. He did not
know what to do, and regretfully had no answer for the woman.

Tara’s voice again sounded over the intercom, “WE
CAN’T WAIT! THEY’LL KILL US ALL IN A FEW MINUTES! I’M DISPERSING
THE FLEET! IT’S OUR ONLY CHANCE!”

“NARGIS, THIS IS DEPUTY COMMANDER WAKINYAN!” Richard
forcefully interrupted. “MAKE A JUMP INTO HYPERSPACE TO TIBULA IN
THE MAGNUS SOL SYSTEM! COORDINATES LEMA NINER-SEVEN BY
ONE-FOUR-THREE BY TWO-FOUR-EIGHT! REPEAT! COORDINATES LEMA
NINER-SEVEN BY ONE-FOUR-THREE BY TWO-FOUR-EIGHT! RUN TIME IS THREE
HOURS SEVENTEEN MINUTES AND FIFTY-TWO SECONDS!”

The mention of the system’s name made Randall’s eyes
bulge and mouth drop in shock. He grabbed Wakinyan by the arm and
squeezed his muscles tightly. “Are you nuts!” he whispered into
Wakinyan’s ear. “That’s Indra space!”

Richard momentarily shot Randall an annoyed look,
but then broke away and continued his conversation with Tara.
“Nargis, it will be harder for them to track you in hyperspace. And
by that time, we’ll be there. I swear it!” Richard unquestionably
promised.

For a minute, there was a brief pause, but then
Tara’s voice answered a little more calm. “We’ll be waiting for
you! Just hurry as fast as you can—please! Nargis, out!”

As the
colonist fled into hyperspace, both senior officers on the bridge
of the
Crazy Horse
took up counsel.

“Those colonists don’t have much of a
chance!” Randall was angry in his opinion. “The odds are if the
Earthers don’t destroy them, the Indra will!” he stated as a matter
of fact.

“It’s better than no chance at all!”
Wakinyan defended his decision. “Look, by having them jump to
Magnus Sol, it will swing them in a course directly towards us.
From our present position, we can make it there in a little bit
over three hours. Hopefully, the Earthers will be a little
reluctant about shooting up an Indra system. Besides, Tibula is a
hot, magnetic star. There’s a good possibility that the radiation
emissions and its magnetic field will block their sensors. Maybe
the Earthers will even run into a few Indra warships. That will
give the colonists—and us the time we need to get the hell out of
there!”

Randall just shook his head. “And I thought flying
through a volcano was crazy!”

Richard, however, was more
philosophical. “Jim, we both know that war is nothing more than
organized insanity. That’s why
crazy
works most of the
time.”

“And when it doesn’t?”

Richard smiled, “Then none of us will live to tell
about it. Besides—it will be a good day.”

Wakinyan’s words brought a quick smile to
James’ face. Randall thought when Wakinyan moved on to a new ship
that he would surely miss him.

Suddenly,
the communications crewman turned to the two men. “Sir, incoming
message from Captain Denko aboard the
Nelson
,” he
announced.

“Put him on audio only,” Wakinyan ordered.

Richard cleared his lungs in a breath and then
spoke, “What is it, Yuri?”

“Commander, I was listening in on the
Ariana
. You can’t be serious? We only
have eight obsolete destroyers. How the hell are we expected to
take on a whole modern battle fleet?” Yuri
questioned.

“Correction, Captain, we have eight fully armed
destroyers and the element of surprise. The Earthers won’t be
expecting us—and that will make the difference. In any event, I am
not leaving defenseless civilians to die in space. Am I clear?”
Richard’s tone rang with his authority.

But Denko became enraged. “You
crazy bastard! This is nothing more than a suicide mission and you
know it! I’m not taking what’s left of my squadron in there to be
slaughtered for a bunch of genetic
freaks
!”

Now it was Wakinyan’s turn to become enraged.
“Captain Denko!” Richard’s mouth slowly snarled. “Both Commander
Paladin and myself have promised these people that we will be
there! And by Almighty God, the Martian fleet will arrive on time
and on position! Whether it be with one ship—or eight, it does not
matter! What will matter is that I will bring charges against any
crewman for refusing to obey my orders—regardless of their rank!
Any other comments, Captain?”

For a moment, Yuri thought over his response. “Yes,
Sir!” he spat out. “Just one—go to hell!”

“You just better be there to see it!” Wakinyan spat
back. “Have all ships change course to the Magnus Sol System and
follow us in. Wakinyan, out!”

Denko’s head snapped to his first officer. “Do it!”
his bitter voice ordered.

As though they were welded together, the eight
Martian ships changed their course in unison and headed off into an
uncertain destiny.

* * * * *

Chapter 17: Clash at
Magnus Sol

Tibula, a giant magnetic
star, bathed the Magnus Sol system in a powerfully charged corona
that fluctuated eerily with a blinding white glow and a background
tinted in an oscillating purple plasma vapor. Its size dwarfed that
of the Earth’s sun by more than twenty times while its magnetic
field engulfed and penetrated planets and moons that were
unimaginatively distant.

Here, dust particles and
hot gases were kept in a highly energized and volatile state, as
they floated freely in hot patches of various bright colors of neon
through the inner system. Beyond the floating auras was a veiled
universe, cloaked in the dangers of the unexplained and unseen. For
all knew that the mysterious Indra dwelled in this quadrant and
trespassing into their space was considered foolhardy at
best.

The Indra
were beings of an ancient and solitary race, whose appearance
was—unknown. A highly technically evolved culture, they neither
sought contact, nor tolerated any intrusion upon their privacy.
Over the millennia, many alien species sent ships to probe and
explore the Indra’s worlds, but all vanished strangely without a
trace. Only occasionally was a vague call of distress received.
However, when rescue craft were quick to respond, not even the
smallest trace of debris was found. For such reasons, this area was
more than avoided. Not even warships from the mighty Galactic Union
dared to venture here, and all this crossed Captain Tara Nargis’
mind as the
Ariana
and the small convoy of unarmed colonists ships materialized
out of hyperspace next to the giant star.