War Angel: part sixteen

The five non-incapacitated members of the War Angel crew gathered in the mess, and from the moment each walked in and saw Richard Park’s demeanor, they knew that what they were about to hear was going to be extremely unpleasant.

“Captain,” Richard began, “permission to begin?”

“Granted.”

The young man cleared his throat and began his briefing. “Using some untested scanning techniques that I worked out with Jack, I have been able to get a good look at the inner solar system and what we’re facing. Umm. Well, it isn’t good, guys.”

“Nobody thought it would be, Mr. Park. Continue.” Morrison said, trying to calm the boy down.

“I couldn’t locate a single EAD ship in the air. When the surrender call went out, either every ship was already earthbound or…”

The silence hung heavy for a moment. “We get the idea, Rich,” Gina said softly.

“Enemy forces, however, are plentiful.” He paused, bringing up an image on the room’s vid-screen. “Scanning counted fifty B-class Omegan battle cruisers. Some of you will know this- I didn’t, so I had to look it up- the B-class cruiser has a complement of 1,000 warriors and 200 individual fighter craft.”

Jack raised his hand and the group turned its attention to him. “For historical perspective, the First Period invasion force was comprised of fifteen B-class cruisers. Of course, you have to bear in mind that force was aided by something even worse, the RGC. Oh, and that we weren’t nearly as technologically advanced as we would be by the Second Period…”

“Second Period,” Sarah said, cutting him off, “the Omegans arrived with a force of 30 B-class ships and without the RGC.”

Morrison chimed in. “Right. Without the threat of the RGC, which was damaged quite heavily by EAD forces towards the end of the First Period, the fight was a little more fair.”

“Guys…” Richard tried to interject.

Gina jumped into the conversation. “Sure- that’s why the Second Period only lasted eight years. Still, plenty of people died in those eight years. And afterward, things back home got weird. My history teacher made us write a paper comparing and contrasting EUG before and after the Second Period, and frankly it was kind of scary.”

“Guys…” Richard tried once again.

“That’s basic human behavior, Gina,” Wilma said. “Those who fail to remember history are doomed to repeat it. After the Second Period, very few people were left that had survived the First Period. Victory in 2110 seemed easy. There was no hardship, a very limited occupation. Most of the battles took place in the sky. It bred arrogance.”

Richard pounded his fist on the table. “Guys!” The picture on the screen behind him changed. The broad scan was gone, replaced with something that looked like a nightmare. It was huge, silhouetted darkly against Earth’s moon. The curved bottom, examined closely, looked to be made of twisted metal; dark intestines spilled from the insides of Hell’s blacksmith. The sides were covered in machinery and cannons. The top… the top was most fearsome. Structured flat, the top contained a lengthy series of chains and hoops that ran from stem to stern. Sitting alongside the apparatus were dozens of robotic arms and numerous dark shapes.

“Holy shit,” Morrison said. “Is that…?”

“The RGC.” Jack whispered.

The Rail-Gun Carrier, as it had been so aptly named by Earthers during the First Period, was the most fearsome weapon humanity had ever seen, making the nuclear bomb seem almost antiquated with its ability to do damage. In 2018, the Omegans had prefaced their first invasion by using the rail gun to make their initial assault during a meteor shower. Fifteen cities and over a hundred million lives were lost. The planet was softened up to the point that the Omegans had basically walked in and taken over without a fight. Every resistance cell that cropped up and fought back over those twenty years always knew they had a larger battle on their hands: how to beat the Omegans and do so without driving them to use their superweapon again.

After victory was achieved, the people of Earth placed a premium on occupations such as engineer, in part because of the worry and threat represented by a weapon like the RGC. There was no guarantee the Omegans would be gone forever, thus preparations had to be made to ensure that the RGC would never be used against humanity again.

For a little over one hundred years, that protection held true. No more.

“Where is it now, Mr. Park?” Morrison asked gently.

“I pulled this image from a newsfeed that captured a shot before its satellite went down. At this point, it was not far from the moon; this isn’t forced perspective, the thing is just that big. If I had to guess, I would say that it has to stay a certain distance away from anything with a strong gravity well; something that large is over-powered as it is. So maybe… 175,000 miles outside Earth orbit.”

All energy in the room deflated. The news only continued to get worse and worse.

Morrison’s features scrunched up as he felt a headache coming on. “How bad is the damage?”

“Well, that’s where it gets strange, sir. From everything I have been able to capture and decipher, the ship hasn’t fired the gun. No impacts reported planetside, at least not before satellites went down.”

Jack spoke up. “So they’re holding us at gunpoint.”

“Which means they want something,” Sarah added.

The Captain pushed himself away from the table. “The Omegans don’t want anything! They’re conquerors! They used us for slave labor, drained resources… and they were all too happy to use the damned gun to help them do it.”

Jack stood and locked eyes with Morrison across the table. “Clearly,” he said, mulling over his words, “things have changed. The Omegans are as adaptable as us. Their technology has evolved, or they’d have been spotted before they rounded Mars. No,” Jack said with a sudden conviction, “this is new. And the fact that they haven’t fired that gun gives us hope.”

“Well, we’re not going to have to worry about it for a while anyway,” Morrison said. “Over the next eleven days we can take the time to study the data that we have, figure out troop placements, all of that stuff. And we can leave a sentry beacon here to do what Mr. Park has been doing, and when we get back- if we get back- we’ll use that data to make a plan.”

The group looked at Morrison with a quizzical eye. “I’m sorry, Captain,” Gina said, breaking the spell, “where are we going, exactly?”

“Where no human has gone before, Ms. Almond.”