First Strike - An Earth@War Novel

Headquarters Destroyer Squadron Ten

Naval Base Oscar, Kylar II

May 28, 2487, 1410 Local, 2030 UT

Admiral Morris sat in the temporary office reviewing the intelligence reports. Batron continued to occupy systems between Omar and Batron. Antron seemed to be holding her own, but just barely. And with Earth going to be unable to send aid for a while, Morris couldn’t help but wonder how long Antron could hold out on her own. As he studied, the comm unit chimed.

“Yes, Wilson?” the Admiral asked pressing a button on the comm.

“Sir, Argentina reports that she is on station,” Andrew said. Admiral Morris had noticed how rough his Administrative Assistant looked this morning, correctly diagnosing it as a hangover. That was very unlike Wilson and Morris vowed to continue to watch the Yeoman.

“Very well. Rear Admiral Kilgallon is on his way. Send him straight in,” the Admiral said.

“Aye, sir,” Andrew replied. Andrew leaned back in his chair. God, his head hurt. But, at least he got some sleep. Without the whiskey, he had no doubt, he wouldn’t have gotten any. When we woke up, his roommates got on his case about drinking in the quarters. Sure, it was technically against regulations to drink in quarters, but who was going to bust him with a war going on and that he just lost his fiancé.

“Hey, Wilson,” Rear Admiral Kilgallon said as he entered the office. “You up and about already?”

“Yes, sir,” Andrew replied. “The Admiral said you can go right in, sir.”

“Thank you,” Kilgallon said. He walked over, tapped on the door and entered the Admiral’s office.

“Have a seat, Frank,” Admiral Morris said. He pressed a button on the comm unit. “Wilson, get us some coffee.”

“Aye, sir,” Wilson said.

“Have you heard what the Batronians are up to?” Morris asked.

“Yes, sir. Seems that they are taking advantage of the situation and grabbing some systems.”

“Seems to me that it could be the entire reason for the attack. We can’t do anything. They grab a bunch of systems, then offer some sort of peace treaty before we can counter attack,” the Admiral said.

“And when they gain control of huge part of the sector they will isolate Antron even further,” Kilgallon said as Andrew entered the room with the coffee. Boy, he looks rough, Kilgallon thought as Andrew set the coffee down and left the room.

“I have Intelligence activating a Hawkeye network. I need to be able to track their ships and get an idea of which systems they have,” Admiral Morris said. A Hawkeye Network would be a set of agents chosen from the indigenous population from various planets in the sector. Each Hawkeye agent would be provided a concealable sensor array and track Batronian from otherwise neutral, or even occupied planets, and provide that information to Fourth Fleet Intelligence via a secure comm system. This would extend Earth’s ability to track Batronian movements and give it a clearer picture of what they were up to. The agents would be well compensated for their service.

“That’s great, but how do we take advantage of that information?” Frank asked, sipping his coffee as the Admiral considered his response.

“Why don’t we move the eight stealth ships out?” Admiral Morris asked. He brought up a map display of the Young-Wise sector. “Maybe have them operate in pairs. Place four on our side of Omar and the other four here on the Batron side of Omar. We would allow them to operate on their own unless we get something from the Hawkeye Network that we want them to look at.”

Frank studied the display. “Actually, just to be safe, I would move two of the stealth ships on the Kylar side of Omar and keep two closer to us just in case. Otherwise, I agree, keeping all eight of the stealth ships here serves no purpose.”

“Okay, then, I’ll have the orders cut to Stealth Squadron Three,” Admiral Morris said. “You know you are the senior squadron commander left, so I will be relying on you for advice. Never hesitate to point something out that you don’t agree with me about.”

“Have you ever known me to blindly agree with people, Bill?” Frank asked with a laugh.

“That’s true,” Admiral Morris said laughing himself for the first time since the attack. “Thanks, Frank. I needed that.”

ESS Newton (B-39)

Approaching Kylar System

May 29, 2487, 1100 UT

“All engines stop. Thrusters ahead full,” the Officer of the Deck ordered as Newton entered the Kylar system. Captain Allgood checked the sensors. Several spacecraft had approached the group that Newton had led into the system, no doubt verifying the identities of the new arrivals.

Kendra had been hoping to take her ship directly into action. However, she had been ordered to Kylar II first and take on supplies. Relax, it’s going to be a long war and I’ll have plenty of time to show my skills, she told herself. They can’t keep me out of the action again.

An hour later, the ship approached the docks. In the bridge window, damaged ships still adrift came into view. Not one or two, but maybe fifteen ships adrift and worthless. Eight of the docks were destroyed and most of the remaining sixteen were damaged. Fortunately, most of the damaged docks could still handle at least one small or midsized ship, leaving the few undamaged docks to handle the larger ships, like Newton which would dock at 20B.

As the devastation came fully int view, a murmur ran through the bridge as crewmembers were shocked at what they were seeing.

“Silence on the bridge!” Kendra ordered with a raised voice, not quite a shout, but ensuring the order was heard and obeyed. She could not stand an unruly bridge. She waited until the murmuring stopped. “That is better. We will keep order on my bridge.”

The ship slipped passed the other docks and the hulls of dead ships. Kendra noticed that some of the ships were still being worked on. Naval personnel in pressurized suits were cutting through the twisted hulls of the destroyed vessels.

They’re trying to get in, the XO realized. Could there be people in there? The thought sent a chill down his spine.

“XO, I want you to have the Damage Control Assistant assemble a Rescue and Assistance Detail, fully equipped and have them report to the dock and assist in rescue operations. Tell him to bring extra Hull Technicians with cutting torches,” Captain Allgood ordered, seeing an opportunity to show her worth.

“Aye, ma’am,” the Executive Officer said, moving toward the comm unit to carry out his orders.

Naval Brig

Naval Base Oscar, Kylar II

May 29, 2487, 1820 Local, May 30, 2487, 0100 UT

The brig’s Duty Officer personally met Carol Anderson and, once again, led her into the interview room.

“Once the prisoner enters the room, you are to say nothing. It is imperative that I remain his only contact,” Carol instructed the Duty Officer.

“Understood, ma’am,” he replied. Even though he didn’t understand, this woman had earned his respect by shocking the prisoner with whatever she had said last time. As the guards brought the Batronian in, the duty Officer said absolutely nothing. He merely signaled the guards to leave once the alien was secured in the chair.

Carol studied Shonze carefully. Already the isolation was showing physical effects on the Batronian. He appeared to be too pale and his shoulders seemed to slump slightly. His eyes seemed dull and unfocused. This is going to work. Maybe not today, but soon, Carol thought.

<<How are you feeling today, Commandant?>>

<<Does it matter?>> the alien replied

<<We don’t want you ever saying we tortured you. We want to make sure you are not being beat by guards. Nothing like that has happened has it?>>

<<You know it hasn’t. But again, what does it matter?>>

<<We just want to be sure that when you are returned to Batron, whenever that may be, you can tell your government how we treat our prisoners and that your people don’t treat any humans you capture any worse>> Carol said. That, of course, was not the point of this conversation, but for now allowing him to debate would further Carol’s goals.

<<You have no idea how to handle prisoners. Your way is inefficient. If the situation was revers, I would already know everything you know>> the alien replied with a smile.

<<Trust me, we are already aware of your techniques. The Antronians have told us all about it. What we are trying to figure out is the purpose of the attack on Kylar II. We haven’t been invaded. Was it just to prevent our fleets from stopping Batron taking systems?>> Carol asked.

<<You still don’t know, do you?>> Shonze asked, laughing at her. <<I hope you are not what Earth is counting on. That they are hoping you will break me with your pathetic mind games. Surely, Earth is smarter than this or else this is going to be a very short war.>>

Carol looked at him, her face clearly showing the sting of his words. She knew that while humans struggle to read Batronian facial expression, Batronians could certainly read human faces. Shonze watched her closely, then sat back obviously pleased that he hurt her. In truth, she was excited because he told her exactly what she wanted to know.

“Put the prisoner back in isolation. He is to see no one. I will return in a week,” she told the Duty Officer, acting as if she were angry.

Headquarters Destroyer Squadron Ten

Naval Base Oscar, Kylar II

May 30, 2487, 0910 Local, 1530 UT

“Did you read Miss Anderson’s report on her interview with Shonze?” Admiral Morris asked Rear Admiral Kilgallon.

“Yes. She indicated that the invasion of other planets is not the objective. It is indeed an attack on Earth’s territories. She believes that an invasion is imminent.,” Frank replied.

“What impressed me is that she led him into revealing the information without him realizing it,” Morris said pausing to sip his coffee. “She used his arrogance to her advantage.”

“She is smart,” Frank agreed.

“I wish the fleet’s intelligence officers were half as good as her. Anyhow, now that we know that Earth’s territories are their goal, how can we use that information? Without knowing a target, of course.”

“I assume that you have an idea,” Frank said as he continued to sip his coffee.

“I think I do,” Morris said. He pulled out a cigar, lit it and took a puff, exhaling a cloud of smoke. Then he took another sip of coffee. “I’m under a lot of pressure to make some sort of counter attack, but with what I have available at this point, I would have no way of launching a direct assault. But, what if we put together a small task force to conduct quick strikes against small targets. We might not be able to hurt the enemy like they did us, but we can harass them, disrupt their supply lines and generally, just be a pain in the ass.”

“At least show them that we’re not just laying down and licking our wounds,” Frank replied, obviously in favor of the idea.

“Exactly,” Admiral Morris said sticking the cigar in his mouth. He stood up and began to pace as he thought. “Maybe I could send a carrier and a battleship. Maybe even a cruiser. Add maybe four destroyers and give the task force a couple of the stealth ships. It isn’t much, but it has some bite,” Admiral Morris said, a cloud of smoke following him as he paced.

“It sounds like the best plan possible for now,” Frank said as he poured himself a second cup. Admiral Morris watched as he added cream and sugar and stirred it in.

“Yeah, unfortunately, the plan has one aspect that I don’t like,” Morris said sitting down again. He took a puff on the cigar. “Frank, I have to put you in command of the task force. You’ll be expected to report aboard London tomorrow. I don’t want to send you, but, you are the senior surviving squadron leader.”

“You, of all people, should know that I would have volunteered if you hadn’t asked,” Frank said. “I would never duck such a responsibility.”

“Yeah, but if something happens, Frank…”

“We can’t live in a world of ifs. I appreciate the thought, Bill, but this is our job,” Frank said addressing the Admiral as his friend and touched by his concern. The friends looked at each other for a moment, before Admiral Morris broke the silence.

“Yeah, well if anything happens to you, you won’t be the one who has to explain to your wife why I sent you,” Morris said with a chuckle.

Admiral Morris crushed out the cigar and the two men began to discuss which ships to send. The list was quickly put together: ESS London (SCV-7), ESS Newton (B-39), ESS Lake Erie (C-96) a cruiser, ESS Argentina (D-868), ESS France (D-874), ESS Ukraine (D-877) and ESS Norway (D-883), the newest destroyer and first in her class. The stealth ships ESS Armstrong (SS-16) and ESS Glenn (SS-17) were added.

“One more thing, Admiral,” Frank said, back in professional mode. “I want an assault ship.”

“An assault ship? Ground forces aren’t what I would call a quick strike,” the Admiral said.

“No, sir, they aren’t. But I would prefer to have one just in case.”

“Okay, Frank, I’ll give you one,” Morris said adding ESS Iwo Jima (AS-38) to the list.

“That will do just fine,” Kilgallon said.

“As far as an assault force, I can give you a Battalion. Do you want one from Fourth Division? They just arrived.”

“I’d prefer one from Third Division. They have been under fire. It’s not much experience, I know, but it’s a start,” Frank replied after thinking it over for a moment.

“Okay, I’ll give you Second Battalion from the First Regiment,” Morris said.

“Thank you, sir,” Frank said finishing his coffee.

“Well, you better get home and explain this to Evelyn. Good luck and good hunting, Frank,” Admiral Morris said. He stood and shook his friend’s hand.

“Thank you, sir,” Frank said. He turned and left the room.

After Kilgallon left, Admiral Morris buzzed Wilson. “I have something for you.”

“Yes, sir?” Andrew asked entering the room.

“I need a message drawn up assign each of these ships and Second Battalion of the Third Regiment to Task Force One under the command of Rear Admiral Kilgallon,” Admiral Morris said.

“Aye, sir,” Andrew responded. A task force? To go on the offensive maybe? Andrew went to his desk, prepared the message and then comm’d the Communications Center to have a Yeoman from there sent over to pick up the message.

Andrew sat back, staring at the messages. In the past two nights, since he was released from the hospital, he had gotten drunk. He was hung over right now. Everything reminded him of Kaitlyn. The only thing that brought him any pleasure was imagining what it would be like to kill some Batronians. Once the Yeoman from the Communications Center picked up the message, Andrew knocked on the Admiral’s door.

“Enter,” the Admiral ordered in his booming voice. Andrew walked into the room and looked directly at Admiral Morris.

“Sir, I have a request,” Andrew said.

“What is it?” asked Admiral Morris.

“Sir I would like to be assigned to one of the ships that is part of Task Force One” Andrew said.

Admiral Morris studies his Yeoman’s face. It was obvious that the young man had been drinking. His eyes were bloodshot. Probably not sleeping either, the Admiral thought, but if it was Rose, what would I do? “Is that what you want?” the Admiral asked.

“Yes, sir. I qualified on the 75-mm guns when I served aboard ESS Mississippi River. I know I could be of some use,” Andrew said.

“Wilson, you know that killing Batronians won’t make you feel any better and it won’t bring her back,” Morris said sympathetically.

“I know, sir,” Andrew replied, though clearly not believing it.

“Sit down,” the Admiral ordered. Andrew sat stiffly. “You aren’t the first man who wants a little revenge. Hell, I want to pay them back for what they’ve done, too. But, Wilson, it won’t bring you peace. I know, I’ve been there.”

“I understand, sir,” Andrew said, his dark face showing the pain he felt. “But, sir, I can’t stay here. Everything on Kylar II reminds me of her. I can’t sleep. I’ve started drinking again and drinking too much. Other than work, my life has no meaning. I need this. I need to go somewhere and do something. I won’t deny that I want to kill the bastards, but it is more than just that. I need to go, sir.”

Morris stared at the young man. “Okay, Wilson. Argentina lost her leading Yeoman. I’ll assign you to her. But remember, you’ll always be welcome to return here. Don’t become a bitter old man. Kaitlyn wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Thank you, sir,” Andrew said, his brown eyes filling with tears.

“Write up your orders. I’ll sign them and then you are relieved so that you can go and pack your things,” Admiral Morris said. When Andrew returned to have his orders signed, Admiral Morris handed him paperwork promoting him to Yeoman First Class.

ESS London (SCV-7)

Near Kylar System

May 31, 2487, 1130 UT

The TP-5 transport arrived at London and landed in the Flight Bay without problems. Onboard the transport were 65 personnel who were being assigned to the ships of Task Force One, including Andrew Wilson and Rear Admiral Frank Kilgallon, who would be the last one off the transport. The TP-5 vibrated as the Flight Bay was repressurized, then the transport’s rear door was lowered allowing the passengers to disembark.

Andrew and the others stepped off the transport and were pointed to a door that would lead them out of the Flight Bay. As Andrew headed toward the door, six bells rang out.

“Ding…ding, ding…ding, ding…ding, Task Force One arriving,” a voice called over the intercom using Kilgallon’s new title to announce his arrival. A single bell rang as his foot hit the deck of the Flight Bay.

“Sir, if you come with me, I’ll show you to your quarters,” a Lieutenant told the Rear Admiral. The Lieutenant led him through the maze of passageways common to all ships, to the Flag Quarters on the second deck of the carrier. The quarters were large and included a private head (a huge prize on a warship), a large sleeping quarters, an office with an oversized desk and a small wardroom where the Rear Admiral could dine with his staff. Just forward of his quarters was he flag bridge, where the Rear Admiral could observe operations and monitor the task force.

A Third Class Boatswains Mate let Andrew to an airlock which led to a shuttle. The shuttle would stop at several of the ships in Task Force One to distribute personnel to their new homes. All the ships of Task Force One were nearby, just outside the Kylar System, with the exception of Iwo Jima which was in orbit above Kylar II awaiting to receive Second Battalion and the two stealth ships which were halfway between Kylar and Omar.

Open Field Near Third Division Headquarters

Naval Base Oscar, Kylar II

May 31, 2487, 0520 Local, 1140 UT

Assault Craft Units (ACUs) were used to transport ground troops from assault ships to planets and vice versa. They were not winged, so their powerful engines had to control the craft when in the atmosphere, reducing their maneuverability, but allowing them to carry loads that would be far beyond what spacecraft like fighters or attack craft could carry. They were boxy and clumsy looking, but their heavy armor made them ideal for transporting troopers and their equipment. A single ACU could carry two armored vehicles and a company of 72 troopers with their equipment.

Max Finley boarded ACU-14 with the rest of Company A. Moments after being loaded, the Assault Craft lifted off in the predawn hours from an open field, arriving at Iwo Jima twenty minutes later.

“Move out,” a Captain (equivalent to a Lieutenant in the regular Navy) ordered as the rear ramp of the ACU dropped. The troopers made their way into the Assault Bay of Iwo Jima. The bay was an open space two decks high on the ship, with an open space to store the ACUs. There was also a partial open upper deck used to store vehicles unloaded from the ACUs so that maintenance could be performed on them. Unlike the flight bay of a carrier, the assault bay was open to space only aft. The bay was also smaller, barely large enough to accommodate the three ACUs.

The Captain led the men of Company A out of the Assault Bay, through a door, through several confusing passageways, up two decks and into a berthing area. The berthing had 80 bunks arranged four high, two large tables and rows of locker, but little else. Max Finley and the others grabbed a bunk in what was now their temporary new home.

ESS Argentina(D-868)

Near Kylar System

May 31, 2487, 1215 UT

The shuttle from London, docked near Argentina’s quarterdeck and Andrew Wilson, along with another man and a woman, both Engineman Apprentices, came aboard. The Chief Engineer met the two Engineman Apprentices and pulled them aside to talk to them. A commander approached Andrew.

“I’m Commander Williams, the XO,” a short man to Andrew. “We lost the Personnel Officer in the attack, so I’ll get you to where you are going.”

“Sir, Yeoman First Class Andrew Wilson reporting for duty sir,” Andrew said formally while saluting.

“You came from Admiral Morris highly recommended,” Commander Williams said, returning the salute. “Let me show you to the Administrative Office. You’ll be the Leading Petty Officer for X-Division.” X-Division on ships referred to the Administrative Department responsible for all administrative functions on the ship.

“Aye, sir. And where is my battle station?”

“Eager, are we?” the XO asked. “You’re qualified on the 75-mm, so you’ll be on Mount 54, second gun mount on the port side.”

“Aye, sir,” Andrew replied as they entered the Administrative Office. Andrew barely looked around the office, instead thinking about the gun mount.

ESS London (SCV-7)

Near Kylar System

May 31, 2487, 1357 UT

Rear Admiral Kilgallon sat on the flag bridge staring out into space. It had been a long time Frank had been on a carrier. As Commander of Destroyer Squadron Ten, his flagship was normally one of the cruisers assigned to the squadron. The carrier was large and allowed the entire second deck (decks were numbered from the top down, so the second deck was the second deck from the top of the ship), unlike a cruiser where he would have had only a few compartments for him and his staff.

“Sir, all ships report ready for deployment,” a messenger reported.

“Very well, signal the task force, standard formation Juliet. Heading 102 by 048, speed 29 AMU,” Admiral Kilgallon said. Formation Juliet would place the four destroyers around the other four ships, shielding the others from spacecraft or stealth ships. The combat patrol fighters would deploy further out and to the sides of the task force further protecting the task force.

“Aye, sir,” the messenger said. Three minutes later, Kilgallon observed the turn from the Flag Bridge and noted the increase in speed.

“Signal the task force. I want the Commanding Officers of all ships and of the Second Battalion to report to London for a briefing at 1800.”

“Aye, sir,” the messenger replied.

Rear Admiral Kilgallon sat back and felt the weight of command. Last night, Evelyn had been supportive when he told her what he had been assigned to do. They had been through this before. Of course, when it came time to leave this morning, there had been tears and promises to return home safely.

Three hours later, Frank briefed the Commanding Officers on his plans for Task Force One.

ESS Armstrong (SS-16)

Between Omar and Kylar, 500 AMU from Omar

June 2, 2487, 0708 UT

The ship was in stealth mode and at General Quarters. Out of the bridge window, just 29 AMUs away were two Batronian cargo ships escorted by a single destroyer. All missile launchers were loaded and ready. The young Lieutenant who had failed the training exercise just a week ago, once again had the deck. Commander Adams checked the sensors. Armstrong was now stopped, waiting like a predator stalking prey, hiding in the shadows. The Lieutenant was sweating as he paced between the sensor display and his normal position on the forward part of the bridge.

“Relax Lieutenant. Timing is the key here,” Commander Adams said.

“Aye, sir,” the Lieutenant replied, but a minute later, nervous energy required him to do something. “Weapons Chief, status of forward missiles?”

“Missiles one and two are targeted on the destroyer, Missile three on the lead cargo ship and missile four on the trailing one. Missiles are ready to fire,” the Master Chief Missile Technician reported.

“Distance to targets?” the Lieutenant asked.

“28 AMU, sir,” the Sensor Chief said. “Wait a minute! Missiles fired on the cargo ships, sir!”

“Very well,” the Officer of the Deck said looking at the Captain. To his credit, the Lieutenant continued to wait.

“Two missiles are heading to each of the cargo ships,” the Sensor Chief reported. The Lieutenant nodded his acknowledgement. “The destroyer is moving to intercept the Glenn.” ESS Glenn had fired the missiles and now the Batronian destroyer was moving to fire back at her. But, in doing so, the destroyer moved into perfect position.

“Fire missiles one and two!” the Lieutenant ordered. The two missiles were jettisoned from the launchers. Once clear of the ship, they fired their engines and accelerated to 180 AMU heading for the destroyer. Explosions flashed outside of the bridge windows as both cargo ships were hit by Glenn’s missiles.

“Helm come to course 312 by 216, speed 5,” the OOD ordered, voice shaking as he watched the sensor display.

“Come to 312 by 216, speed 5, aye, sir” the helm replied. As Armstrong began making its turn, the cargo ships were hit by additional missiles and both ships began coming apart. Cargo and debris poured from the hulls of the dying ships.

“Both missiles hit!” the Weapons Chief reported. The OOD saw the on the sensor display that the destroyer had reduced speed drastically. It was no longer a threat and it was time to move away.

“Course 312 by 216, speed 5 AMU, sir,” the helm reported.

“Nicely done, Lieutenant,” the Captain said. He reached over and pressed a button on the comm unit. “Communications, Bridge. Signal Glenn that we are heading away on 312 by 216 at 5. We will remain in stealth mode for a few hours to ensure that the area is clear.”

“Aye, sir,” came the reply.

“Officer of the Deck, secure from General Quarters,” Commander Adams ordered.

Naval Brig

Naval Station Oscar, Kylar II

June 5, 2487, 0850 Local, 1430 UT

<<So, how are we today, Commandant?>> Carol Anderson asked as she studied the alien. He looked tired and pale. It was obvious that he was not sleeping. The Duty Officer had noted the change in appearance as well, but of course said nothing.

<<You seem awful arrogant this morning>> the alien replied. <<You would think humans would see how desperate their position is. We destroyed your fleet and your base, and yet you put on this fake attitude. You are so weak.>>

<<Now, Shonze, it doesn’t have to be like this. Do you think I can’t see how this is affecting you? You are the weak one and getting weaker everyday.>>

<<What is the date?>> Shonze asked.

<<June 5th.>>

<<Talk to me tomorrow and we will see who is weak.>> the Batronian said.

<<Where? Here on Kylar II? Another attack?>>

<<Tomorrow>> Shonze said giving his best impression of a smile. He would say no more.

Thirty minutes later, Carol sat in front of Admiral Morris.

“Could it be a lie?” Admiral Morris asked.

“I don’t think so. He is arrogant and believes that whatever Batron is planning can’t be stopped. I think this is one hundred percent true, at least as far as he knows,” Carol said.

“No idea where?” the Admiral asked as he puffed on his trademark cigar.

“No, sir. He won’t say anything else.”

“Okay, I’ll send a message to all commands,” the Admiral said after a moment of thought.

“Okay, sir. I’ll notify the Secretary General,” Carol said rising to leave. After Carol left, the Admiral composed a message and buzzed the new yeoman. She entered the room, picked up the message and left. While she sure looked better, she was no Wilson.