Anyway, that was just a bit over four years ago. I tried to act like I wasn't actively pursuing a relationship with her from the second I first contacted her, but I'm pretty sure I failed miserably. See, the awesome part about dating a smart girl is that they can carry on an interesting conversation and they can analyze a situation and help you see things with a point of view that you've never realized existed. They can understand what you're saying when you talk about things that maybe some other girls wouldn't. Having a smart chick is awesome. Of course, the down side of having a smart girl around is that she can undoubtedly interpret things in an intelligent manner and when you try to pretend that you're okay with just being friends when you first meet and you really want to pursue a relationship from the time you first said "Hello" she's bright enough to see through your bullshit. It's a trade-off to be sure, but it's one that I'm definitely glad I made.
Steph has been with me through a lot, too. Life has not always been easy the last four years and I use reading and this blog the same way some people use drugs. I mean that literally. Sinking into someone else's reality is a way of escaping my own. Reading and writing are not what's kept me sane though. My Stephanie is.
We live six hundred miles apart and yet she's there for me every time I need her. She's closer to me than anyone I know, even with all of the physical distance between us. There is no one I can count on more than my girl and it means a lot. Lord knows there were times when I wouldn't have blamed her for leaving, but she didn't.
This is my two hundredth blog post. Tomorrow is the four year anniversary of the day I started this blog. This is a short story that I actually finished when I'm in the habit of never finishing my fiction. Today is, of course, Valentine's Day. I'm celebrating. Because of all of the above, I'm dedicating this post to my rock, my love, my Stephanie. I wuvs you honey. Here's hoping for a lot more than four more years. Smewches!)
Lieutenant Junior Grade Jim McCoy
sat at the communications console on the bridge of the UES George
Washington, a United Earth battlecruiser . He had dark hair and a
headset on that would have looked familiar to any person in a
twenty-first century call center. He was talking into a console
mounted microphone while typing things rapidly into a tablet with a
keyboard. “Right, so Sarn't Major Joshua Chamberlain is going to be
ok? Dr. Vinogradov has managed to regenerate both his skin and his
lungs after the explosion. You know, engineers were never the
sharpest knives in the drawer. He was the one in charge, so why was
he standing at the highest spot when everything went to shit?”
McCoy cocked his head and smiled. “I
hear you. He's an important guy, but how in the hell did the whole
team manage to blow themselves up simultaneously during a training
exercise?” McCoy nodded. “Yes dear, I get that it's a dangerous
job, but damn. Oh, and isn't that the last one?”
Jim's smile got even bigger. It wasn't
every day one got to talk to his girlfriend while on duty, even if he
had to do it on laser to prevent his emissions from being detected
while on what basically amounted to ambush duty. “So how are you?”
He paused to listen. “How was your day?” He paused again,
briefly. “Did anything exciting happen?” He chuckled. “You
always say that. One day, you're going to get caught up in a massive
ball of excitement though. I have foreseen it.”
Lieutenant Junior Grade Stephanie
Sounders sat a nearly identical communications console on bridge of
the nearby hospital ship, the UES Karl Marx. Her short, curly hair
was a sandy color. Her smile was heart-melting and her button nose
and ears in the shape of sea-shells just made her that much more
beautiful. Her glasses were wire rimmed and fit well under her own
headset. “I see,” she said in a voice that was sexy without
trying to be, “You have foreseen it. Can you tell me precisely how
that happened, oh boyfriend of mine?” Steph let out one of her
trademark cute little giggles. “I see.” Souders face showed a
brief look of confusion. What the hell? Wait one.”
Souders took a look at the display in
front of her. “It's confirmed. Weird.” She turned toward her
commanding officer“Captain Mao,” she said, “Something's between
us and the Washington, sir.”
Mao left his command chair, “Define
something, Lieutenant. What is it and how long has it been
there?” said the balding, middle aged Asian man in the fancy
uniform.
Souders shook her head. “I'm not sure
what it was sir. I only know it happened because my panel notified me
of a brief interruption of my comms laser with the Washington. I
wouldn't have mentioned it, but with us being so far out...”
Mao nodded. “We're also along the
likeliest course into the system for an invader. You did the right
thing. Shields up, red alert. Lieutenant Lenin give me an active scan
of the entire neighborhood. Souders, inform the Washington. Make sure
they saw it.”
Ensign Flrtp of the Inngrit Empire
dreadnought Mhsgah looked up from his tactical display toward his own
captain. His wings fluttered with concern across his four foot tall
ant like carapace as he began to speak in his language of hisses and
clicks. “Captain, something lased the hull.”
Captain Flrtq looked back at the
ensign. “Any damage?”
Flrtp shook his head. “None sir. It
was far too weak to make an effective weapon. It appeared to be
something more along the lines of a communications las... Sir, WE'RE
BEING SCANNED!”
McCoy looked up from his console, his
smile turning to a frown, “Sir, the Marx reports that our comms
laser was interrupted. I never detected it, but dammit, Lieutenant
Souders is good. If she says that...”
“HOLY SHIT!!!” Lieutenant George
Patton came up out of his seat, still staring at his screen. “The
Marx just went active on scanners. I don't know how they got this
far, but we're in the middle of an Inngrit battle group. I've got at
least four Dreadnoughts and screening elements.”
Captain JP Jones took charge. “Shields
u...” The bridge lurched and a loud boom was heard. Klaxons sounded
as Jones nearly fell out of his seat. “...p, Red Alert. REPORT!”
Lt. Patton kept his eyes glued to his
station. “We took a hit from a maser sir. We're venting atmo on
Decks Two through Five. Casualty reports are still coming in. We've
lost two missile tubes and the tactical array, sir. Shields were
undamaged as they weren't up yet.”
Captain Jones looked up. “Great. We
can shoot but we can't aim. We also have no way to control the space
based planetary defenses. I need ideas about how to complete our
mission.”
Lt. McCoy looked up. “Sir, I have an
incoming message from the Marx.” The ship lurched again and the
ensign at the damage control station went into a bulkhead and left a
bloody spot as his body hit the deck.
Lt. Souders looked up from her station.
“Tactical says the Washington's tactical array was hit. But this
WILL work, sir. If our targeting radar can localize a single crewman
floating in the black well enough to hit them with a tractor beam, it
can certainly localize a dreadnought. Send me the information and I
can tight-beam it over to the Washington. After that, they should be
able to run it through the targeting computer and generate their own
firing solutions.”
Captain Mao looked thoughtful. “How
quickly will they be able to generate solutions?”
Souders shrugged. “A lot quicker than
they can get a replacement ship out here from orbit, Sir.”
Mao nodded. “Do it.”
Ensign Flrtp looked at his tactical
console. “GOOD HIT! The battlecruiser's tactical array has been
destroyed. They have no way to target us with the planetary defenses.
Our plan worked, sir. Our EMCON was perfect. They never spotted us
with our drives off, coasting. We caught them flat-footed, sir.”
Captain Flrtq clacked his pincers
together. “Good. When we seize Earth, the queen will surely decide
to mate with the drones from our clan. If we get lucky, the next
queen could be from our clan. They know we're here. Begin
accelerating toward the planet.” The ship bucked and the captain
bent nearly in half.
Flrtp dropped to all sixes. “Sir, the
humans are returning fire. That missile just reduced our forward
shields to thirty percent.”
Flrtq shook his head. “How? They have
no way to control their weapons.”
Back on the Washington, Lt. McCoy
watched his ship coming apart around him. The bridge was in shambles.
The ship was buffeted like a schooner in a storm. Sparks flew from
consoles. A small fire broke out near the engineering panel. It was
lit up in various shades of red and orange fading to yellow. A panel
at the next station over blew out in an electrical frenzy and lit
McCoy's shoulder board on fire. “I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS!!”
he screamed, throwing it onto the deck and stomping out the flames.
The captain looked at him. “Can you
keep the feed going? We're doing a good job of slowing them down.”
The look of determination and rage on
McCoy's face would have scared Satan himself into retreat. “Sir,
you keep me in line of sight of my St... The Marx sir, and we'll beat
these fucking bugs.” McCoy gave an evil smile and touched his right
headphone. “YES!!”
Captain Jones turned toward McCoy
“Report.”
McCoy looked down at his station again.
“Sir, I haven't had the bandwidth to get through to Command. It
wasn't meant to be a tactical array too. BUT STEPH DID!!! That was
Admiral Halsey, sir. They're plotting microjumps and should be in
range of the enemy fleet in less than two minutes.”
Jones's eyes blazed. “Can the Marx
hold out that long?”
In space, the battle was on. Millions
of projectiles flew from tens of thousands of stealthed platforms
toward the Inngrit fleet. Unmanned weapons exploded. Ships came
apart. Others were crippled and turned away from the fight, seeking
the shelter provided their comrades. But the fleet kept coming. The
screening elements were taking a pounding. Cruisers and destroyers
were consumed in fireballs of destruction. That was their job. At
the center of the fleet though, stood the dreadnoughts and they were
mostly untouched. Inside his ship, the Inngrit commander watched his
tactical display, satisfied. Things were going according to plan. Two
lone human ships stood at the center of the maelstrom taking a
pounding. It was gutsy, but they had no chance.
Lieutenant Souders wiped away the blood
trickling from her right nostril and kept at her job with her ship
dying around her. She could hear damage control losing its battle to
keep the Marx alive. No one was giving up, but there wasn't much they
could do. Suddenly, her face lit up. “Sir, the fleet is jumping!
Sir?” Souders turned around when her captain didn't respond. She
didn't see him.
Back in Earth orbit, Admiral William
Halsey smiled grimly. The United Earth Fleet had so far kept its new
micro-jumping technology secret. It sucked to expose it, but this was
an attack on Earth itself. He looked to his own communications
officer, Lieutenant (SG) Lewis Puller “Message to the fleet.
Prepare for immediate contact after jumping. Jump five seconds from
my mark. Good luck, and good hunting. Mark.”
Five seconds later, in a near
simultaneous transition, millions of tons mass death waiting to
happen winked out of existence and appeared to the rear of the bug
formation. The fury of the fleet's crews knew no bounds. Crippled
Inngrit ships that had fallen to the rear were swatted out of
existence to clear firing lanes. Ships fired every weapon they could
as fast as they could. Missiles swarmed like angry bees whose hive
had been violated. Earth's ships poured it on from an unexpected
direction and slapped away a much thinner screen.
Back on the Marx, Lt. Souders was
working hard, furiously pushing buttons on her console. She felt her
forehead wrinkle in concentration. It was working despite the
pounding her ship was taking. If she could keep it going for just a
few more minutes...
“LIEUTENANT SOUDERS!!!!” came a
voice from behind her. It was Ensign Trotsky.
Souders felt her heartbeat, “Not
now.”
Trotsky's voice went up two octaves. He
was obviously desperate. “Ma'am, the other officers are all dead.
YOU'RE IN COMMAND!!”
Souders shook her head. “I don't have
time to be in command. I'm keeping us all alive. Just keep me in line
of sight of the Washington and find a way to keep the ship from
breaking up.”
Trosky nodded. “That sounds like in
command to me. You heard her helm.”
Souders felt the ship heel, hard. She
stopped pushing buttons on her console. “What the hell?”
Trotsky looked panicked. “That was
the targeting radar ma'am.”
Souders turned around. “Get us the
HELL OUT OF HERE helm!”
Ensign Ho responded. “What heading
ma'am?”
Souders felt her face turn red with
frustration. “Away from the Bugs!” She turned back to the comms
station.
Lt. McCoy looked up from his comms
station on the Washington. “Sir, I just got word from the Marx.
Their targeting computer is down. We won't be getting any more data.
They're leaving.”
Captain Jones looked up. “So are we.
Helm do your best to match velocity, but keep us between the Marx and
the Bugs. They're a hospital ship. Comms, inform Admiral Halsey that
he needs someone to take over here. We've done as much as we can.”
Aboard his flagship, the Inngrit
admiral hissed in approval. The humans' static defenses had fallen
silent! The way forward was clear and the enemy ships were behind
him. “Increase acceleration. The planet is ours!”
Admiral Halsey stood on his flag bridge
waiting for the next thing to go wrong. It was that kind of day.
“Sir,” came the word from Ensign
Ray Spruance at tactical, “the defensive ring has fallen silent.
The
enemy has increased acceleration toward
Earth.”
“I can confirm sir,” said Lt.
Puller, “the Marx has lost its targeting computer. Neither ship can
aim. Both are leaving.”
Admiral Halsey nodded. “It's the
right move. Comms, inform the Hornet to Execute Option X-ray. Then
inform our reserves in orbit to get ready. All units, continue to
pour it on.”
Halsey looked toward his own tactical
display. Ten seconds later, two battlecruisers and their screen of
five light cruisers and ten destroyers winked out of existence, only
to reappear seconds later, right where the Washington and the Marx
had been only shortly before.
Spruance spoke up. “Sir, the Hornet
has resumed fire control over the platforms. Fire is resuming and the
bugs are walking right into it. The dreadnoughts will be in range in
five seconds, sir.”
A voice came from the comms station.
“Admiral, the reserve fleet awaits your orders.”
Halsey smiled. “Inform the assault
fleet to focus all weapons fire on those dreadnoughts. Defense system
fire remain focused on the screen. Don't give them time to do their
job. It's time to end this threat.. As for the reserve fleet, I don't
think we're going to need them. Have them dispatch a few ships to
protect the Marx and the Washington. Those crews have earned it. Have
the rest of the fleet remain on standby, just in case.”
With their targeting and tactical
arrays missing, neither Souders nor McCoy got to see what happened
next. Military historians, however, would talk for centuries about
the battle, using terms like “overkill” and “unnecessary levels
of violence” when they referenced the First Battle of Earthspace.
The bugs had been caught unaware by the micro-jumping capability of
the humans and hadn't been prepared for an attack from behind. Had
either of them known that, they wouldn't have cared. What they did
care about was their world, their duty, and each other. The multitude
of dead bugs behind them were merely a byproduct of what they had
been trained to do.
Back in Earth orbit after the end of
the battle, Lieutenant (SG) McCoy sat at his communications console
watching repair crews swarm all over the bridge. He smiled. “It's
true,” he thought, “There truly is no more exciting feeling than
to be shot at... and missed.”
Captain Jones sidled over. “That was
some damn good work by both yourself and your girlfriend. I don't
know if you heard. She took command of her ship and saved the lives
of her whole crew. She'll probably get a command of her own pretty
soon. I'll do my best to see that you come out of this decorated as
well.”
McCoy gave a huge smile. “Yes sir,
she did. I hope she does get a command. She's earned it. It was her
plan that saved the planet, sir. I just followed it.”
Jones shrugged. “You did a damn fine job doing it. Stay with that woman. She's going places.”
McCoy nodded. “Oh, I intend to sir. Now, if only I could talk her out of going to my favorite steakhouse for dinner tomorrow.”
Jones shrugged. “You did a damn fine job doing it. Stay with that woman. She's going places.”
McCoy nodded. “Oh, I intend to sir. Now, if only I could talk her out of going to my favorite steakhouse for dinner tomorrow.”
Jones looked confused. “Why would you
want to talk her out of going to your
favorite steakhouse, Lieutenant?”
McCoy
shook his head. “She always gets the chicken, sir.”
Jones
was horrified. “She gets chicken at a steakhouse? Is she a
communist?”
McCoy chuckled. "Apparently so, sir."
(Copyright 2019 by Jim McCoy. Don't steal my shit or I will sue you to the ends of the Earth.)
