STAR BLAZERS: A VOYAGE TO REMEMBER
A fanfic recapitulation of Series One “The Quest for Iscandar” by
Frederick P. Kopetz
EPISODE ONE: PLUTO 2199 AD
PROLOGUE: View of One Hundred Years.
Anyone reading this little bit of history needs to realize that when I pop into this story as narrator, that my view of events in the way I lived through these times wasn’t a hundred percent clear.
I filled in the gaps through much historical research; logs, security videos, interviews with the surviving principals, et cetera.
Also, bear in mind that the oldest of the events I will be writing about; the 2190’s, are now a century old from my current perspective. Even given my rather unusual life, a few memories are a little hazy; the same goes for his memories, too. But the two of us can sit together, argue a bit, perhaps have a food fight (we are old but, oh, Lord knows we are not totally dignified!) but we can usually make sense out of what happened.
I don’t need to go through who I am; I’ll get into that later even though the smartest ones will probably guess from my first few lines. I’ll give you a little hint: I’m the number two plank owner of the Yamato.
Plank owner Number One, unfortunately, is long dead. I think I hear from his ghost every now and then; I even had a visit in person when I was dead myself for a bit.
But, before this drips into some endless drabble, let me begin at the beginning.
The Universe stretches into infinity; filled with beauty and serene light.
In the Cosmos, under the eye of the Creator, old stars die, and new stars are born. Yes, the Cosmos is alive!
But, for us, on Terra, in the year 2199…life was about to come to a miserable and undignified end…
The prematurely aged Admiral who was just in his fifties looked hard around the bridge of his flagship; Earth Defense Forces Pennant Number 225; the Kirishima.
This ship’s old bones are creaking on the cosmic winds, he thought. Just like my old bones. If we don’t make our last stand here near Pluto…we’re done for.
A planet bomb passed overhead.
Planet bombs were simple but effective Gamilon weapons; a lot of fissile material stuffed inside a small asteroid.
When the asteroid hit Earth, the heat and pressure of atmospheric re-entry created a vast nuclear explosion.
A very dirty explosion that left a lot of radiation behind.
The Admiral knew that approximately six thousand, two hundred of such projectiles had hit Earth over the past eight years.
The Earth Defense Fleet Admiral, named Fleet Admiral Abraham Avatar, shut his eyes, and thought hard as he considered the human race’s dilemna right now.
I cannot bear to look upon Earth. Once green, with silverly lakes and rivers; great streams and mighty seas. Now, all gone. Only burning day and desert is left. Radiation is everywhere…
Kirishima and her fleet were passing Neptune now, at maybe 89% of light speed; the fastest that the fusion engines in these vessels, some old, some new, could push these Terran warships.
Avatar knew they were sitting ducks against the faster than light vessels of the Gamilons.
The Gamilons. No one knew for sure why they were hell-bent on wiping out humanity. In fact, no Terran had ever actually seen a Gamilon.
This may sound like a contradiction in terms, since corpses of Gamilon troops; or what remained of them, had been found in crashed vessels and ships of theirs. However, Terran linguists were able to piece together a small amount of history about the Gamilons from what they could make out of their computer records, which were usually heavily damaged since they were found in wrecks.
The human-looking, mostly Caucasian aliens attacking them were not Gamilons at all, at least not Gamilons from what the records of their language, which sounded rather Germanic, called “Der Garmillas Grossenvolk,” or, in other records, in chilling terms, “The Master Race.” The fragmentary records said that the humanoids attacking them were “Second-Class” Gamilons, primarily people from a race called “Zaltzians.” The records stated that other races joined with the Gamilon Master Race in this mad war, including a race known only as “The Divine Ones.”
Avatar knew that no one knew what the Gamilon Master Race looked like. He was not sure he wanted to know.
Avatar looked at the tiny holo-image of Earth that was above his panel at his command station.
Earth had once been blue.
Now, it was a dun reddish-brown globe. It still had an atmosphere, but there was no water on the surface; no plant life, no animals, or birds.
The radiation count was deadly to any human who remained on the surface for more than a few minutes without a spacesuit; the exposure would be lethal in about fifteen to twenty minutes, depending upon prevailing winds. Even in a spacesuit, exposure could last no more than maybe ninety minutes before one received a lethal radiation dose.
What was left of Humanity survived in several underground cities, built several kilometers beneath the battered Earth’s surface. The population of Earth had been about six billion before Gamilon began its bombings. Now, estimates said there were maybe two hundred million left alive. A pittance.
The War had begun around 2050 or 2060, in an era on Earth that was full of chaos, terrorism, plague, and hatred. The first sign that there was a hostile force out there was when the NASA space probe Minerva had been attacked by the Gamilons and destroyed when investigating what was felt to be a large tenth planet beyond the Kuiper Belt of asteroids beyond Pluto.
The Minerva had been attacked and shattered. Along with the tenth planet itself, also named Minerva, which was reduced to asteroid trash.
The probe had sent evidence of the small planet’s destruction to Earth as its last few messages…along with images of green and orange spacecraft. Spacecraft that were definitely alien warships of some type. One of those ships had been the mothership for some large type of long shiny black missile; a veritable messenger of Dearth. When the missile had been launched, it had plowed into Minerva. There was a vast explosion. Then, silence.
The war had gotten worse. The enemy had identified itself around the time of the Mars Secession Crisis, when Earth was trying to keep the Mars Colony from seceding and becoming a space power on its own; which was one reason the nations of Earth had banded together and formed a world government and an Earth Defense Fleet.
Gamilon had demanded Earth’s total surrender after a major battle near Saturn in 2190. The Earth Defense Command refused; and the planet bombs started to come shortly afterwards. The death toll in deep space also got worse.
There had been hundreds of Earth warships, built as quickly as possible. They all were destroyed in combat with the Gamilons. Their attacks had scarcely dented the enemy’s ships.
Now, even the underground cities, Avatar knew, were endangered. The radiation on Earth’s surface was so strong that it was even seeping into the underground cities.
In about a year, Avatar thought as he mournfully turned off his holo, the radiation will hit the deepest levels of the underground cities, and then, humanity and all life on Earth will be finished. How can a good God allow this? This is the problem of Evil written large. Now, we have just my one fleet left. This battleship, and many cruisers, destroyers, and missile ships against the terrible evil of the Gamilons. Only we stand between them and Earth. Somehow, we must shut down that Pluto base and stop the bombings. How? I do not know. We trust in the Great Architect of the Universe, Avatar thought as he fingered a gold ring on one of his fingers; his wedding band.
Clarisse, his wife, was dead. She had been for a number of years. Avatar thought of her long dark hair and her smile before he looked at the other ring on his other hand. It was a fraternal ring. He remembered the motto of one of the charitable organizations he had once been active in back in old Japan: it was Latin: Spes Mea in Deo Est. “Our Hope is in God.”
Our Hope is in God, our Savior, Avatar thought. We are Earth’s Last Defense. Here at Pluto, we must make our stand…
Avatar looked around Kirishima’s round bridge again.
“Fifty degree turn to Starboard completed, Captain!” said a heavily accented voice at the Kirishima’s helm. Avatar, who had spent part of his life in the Pacific Northwest of the US, and part in Japan, guessed the speaker, a chubby man with freckles at the helm, had an East Texas accent.
“Mister Eager, keep us on course.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
Then, the radar operator spoke up, a young man in a helmet. “Radar Contact, Distance to Pluto, fifty thousand megameters; we are now within her gravitational sphere of influence. Targets spotted approaching fleet. Targets identified as Gamilon task force. Six light space battleships, four light cruisers, eight destroyers, and many escort ships! Speed of enemy fleet, twenty-two space knots and accelerating. Heading of enemy fleet, 11 O’clock; distance, twenty-five hundred megameters!”
“Thank you, Mister Noguchi,” Avatar said. “All hands take battle stations! Make turn thirty degrees to starboard, then jink around to meet enemy fleet! Bring up weapons power: Artillery stand by!”
“Artillery set and power coming up,” said one voice on the Bridge.
“Bringing engine power up t ’full,” said an Irish-sounding voice over one of the PA speakers.
“Hittin’ flank speed!” said Eager from his post.
Various beeps and sounds came up on Kirishima’s bridge as the old battleship girded herself for combat.
Avatar’s comm officer spoke up a moment later. “Sir, we’re receiving a message from the Gamilons.”
“Read it,” said Avatar.
“Earth Fleet, we demand your surrender now. What should I tell them, sir?”
Avatar turned and snapped, “Tell them they’re idiots!”
“Pardon me, sir?”
“I SAID IDIOTS!” Avatar yelled.
“Yessir,” said the helmeted comm officer. “Gamilon Fleet, this is Flagship Number 225, Kirishima. Our answer, “IDIOTS!” Over!”
A lot of static came over the line. If the Gamilons sent an answer, the comm officer could not interpret it quickly enough.
Avatar saw that the Gamilons were answering in another fashion a moment later when they maneuvered into a close attack position and locked their gun turrets on the Earth Fleet for a broadside.
Then, they fired.
A barrage, two barrages, flew into the Fleet.
In the distance, Missile Ship Number 26, the Samurai, blew apart as the Gamilons targeted her. Another missile ship, Number 37, whose name had not even yet been changed from its previous name of Minekaze, took several hits and she also blew apart.
A Gamilon barrage flew over the Kirishima and just avoided the Terran battleship.
“Lock on to the lead battle cruiser!” Avatar ordered.
“Aye, sir,” said the Tactical Officer, a young officer known as Lieutenant Samuel Josiah.
“Those are Gamilon ships, men! Aim carefully! We can’t afford a miss!” Avatar said.
“Sir, locked on,” said Josiah.
“FIRE!” Avatar barked.
Kirishima’s guns went off, followed by the guns of the nearby EDF cruisers Asama and Northampton, which were both similar ships of the Osaka class.
All the green plasma energy barrages from the Earth vessels blasted towards the Gamilon ships…and skipped harmlessly off their olive-green hulls.
We can’t pierce their armor now, Avatar thought irritably. The enemy must have improved their armor protection. Damn them!
With no mercy or quarter given, the Gamilons returned fire a moment later.
The Gamilons’ weapons, hot pink plasma beams, met their targets with deadly results.
Kirishima took several hits near the stern as her power winked out and emergency systems, with their red lighting, came on as the battleship heeled.
Behind them, the Asama was hit, and blown apart.
Soon, different department heads began to give reports as the Kirishima shook from hit after hit.
“Our stern is hit!”
“Liquid Oxygen Tank B is leaking!”
“Aft laser guns damaged!”
Kirishima took more hits, and far below, the hull was holed, and air and supplies rushed out into space before the airtight hatches could slam to. Three officers and enlisted men were sucked screaming into the unforgiving void.
A deck below the bridge, Aux Control took a hit, and two more crewmen were sucked into space as electrical energy blew across boards on the main bridge.
We’re outnumbered Five to One, Avatar thought as, nearby, he saw the missile ships Chevalier and Gurkha hit and blown apart.
Then, the Kirishima tilted again as Mister Eager tried to evade enemy missiles.
The impact knocked Avatar off his feet, and he took a header into the deck plates, with his hat flying off as his upper right arm hit the deck.
Under Avatar’s black and red pea coat and his white duty shirt, there was a sickening crunch and a burst of pain.
When Avatar struggled to his feet, he found he couldn’t use his right arm, and he thought he felt the warm, sick feel of his own blood staining his shirt.
There was a loud scream, and Avatar saw Eager’s panel explode and he saw him holding his eye.
“What’s wrong, Lieutenant?” yelled Samuel Josiah.
“Shrapnel in my eye, damnit!” he yelled. “Can’t see outta it!”
“Josiah, transfer control of your post to Aux Ops and take his post!” Avatar said. “Eager, get to the dispensary if you can!”
“Yessir,” both men said as the proper changes were made.
The Kirishima shook from more hits, with a delayed fire response because some Ensign on the deck below was returning fire now.
Then, Noguchi spoke up from Radar.
“Captain! Unidentified spaceship passing the battle area! It’s not a Gamilon ship and she’s not one of ours, either!”
“What’s the speed?”
“Fifty-seven space knots; I think she just came out of what the Gamilons call a Gestcham jump! Flying right past us!”
Avatar looked at a tactical display on his screen that he brought up with his good arm. “At that speed, she must be from outside the Sol System, and I’m calculating she’s on a collision course with Mars! Mister Strickland!” Avatar said to his comm officer. “Send word to Defense Command on the unknown vessel and our general fleet disposition! Send the tactical plot I’m sending you!”
“Aye, sir,” said Strickland. After a moment, he said, “Encrypted under Code Amaterasu; code blip sent! Hope the Gamilons don’t jam it, sir!”
“So do I,” said Avatar with a grunt as he tried to keep the bones in his undoubtedly broken arm from coming out through his biceps; if they hadn’t already.
Unlike Eager, he couldn’t go below to the dispensary. Commander Kashima, their XO, had been killed three days ago in a skirmish with the Gamilons just past Saturn.
Avatar knew he had to remain on station…or die.
ROUGHLY FOUR HOURS LATER…
In the vast underground city of Tokyo, there were tubes leading to different bases.
Earth Defense Command’s base was a bit to the south of the old city; some distance away from the underground dockyards under Shikoku Island.
The Defense Forces Commanding General, Hiram Charles Singleton, looked at his Chief of Staff, General Jackson Stone, and his Adjutant, a Captain who had been wounded six months ago at a battle near Neptune known as Hiram Josiah.
“We haven’t heard back from Avatar yet, gentlemen,” said Singleton. “I pray he’s all right.”
“I have the feeling that the Gamilons have already gotten him, sir. I told you this was a fools’ errand,” said Stone.
“We have to have faith in what we’re doing, as well as in Heaven,” said Singleton.
Josiah was standing nearby in his black and blue uniform, when a phone rang.
“Adjutant to the Commanding General,” he said, putting his unlit cigar aside.
“Astrophysics section here,” said a voice familiar to Singleton over the speaker phone. “Senior Lieutenant Stephen Sandor speaking, sir.”
“What’s your report?” replied Josiah.
“Two bits of news. Comm Section picked up a coded message from the Fleet, and one of my old physics students happened to be on volunteer watch. She picked up an object coming in fast from the solar system edge towards Mars. She thinks it just dropped out of hyperspace.”
“She?” barked Stone. “Sandor, what are you doing, putting women behind those damned scanners? I gave a Goddamn order two months ago to put all the women in Medical!”
“Have to tell you about this young lady sometime. She volunteered for this while working in Medical. She’s about to earn her CRNP cert with her Master’s.”
“But…she…?”
“Stone, hush!” said Singleton. “Right now, I could care less who is behind that scanner as long as the person is a competent officer. Josiah?”
“Sir, Physics reports that the object is headed towards Mars. I just got a decoded version of Avatar’s blip; he reports that his fleet is being battered but they are continuing towards their objective to attack the Gamilon Base. His radar tech also got a tactical on that object. It’s heading towards Mars; just like Physics Section thinks.”
Then, Singleton’s phone rang. “Yes?” he said, putting the caller on speaker.
“Sir, Ensign Forrester, Physics Section,” said a calm alto female voice over the speaker phone. “Confirming the object is heading to Mars. Intercept from the Pluto Fleet is confirmation of my scans. Sending another Staff Ensign up your way with my report. I can’t e-mail it to you directly, sir. Why?”
“Who ordered you to call up here, girl?” barked Stone.
“Doctor Sandor, sir. He does outrank me. Just following my orders. He said…’forget the chain of command protocol’…although in somewhat earthier language!”
“I think you can’t reach us due to power issues, Ensign; my computer just rebooted,” said Singleton as Josiah looked hard at him and Stone. “Keep watching your scanners, and good luck.”
“Roger that; my sneaker-net guy is on the way up with your report, sir. I’m typing like a demon.”
“Thanks, Ensign,” said Singleton. “Good work.”
“No stupid girl should be within a half-damned kilometer of that equipment!” barked Stone. “I met her once in Medical; that idiot will break something down there!”
“I recognize her voice, too. She’s brighter than you think,” said Josiah. “We can trust her with our lives. I think she’d be a good one to consider for your Project “Y”, General.”
“Maybe…that’s if we even get that far,” said Singleton as the runner came up, saluted, and began reading his report.
“My report states that the ship will land on Mars, Zone B, near the frozen cliff at the North Pole,” said the young Ensign. “Putting Physics Section’s report up on screen now, sir,” he said as he pulled up some switches and Forrester’s tactical came up on screen.
“Zone B,” mused Singleton. “Do we have any personnel nearby to observe?”
“Sir, report states there are two young officers; recently graduated Midshipmen Derek Wildstar and Mark Venture. Correction; they’re Ensigns now, as of two days ago; Gideon’s orders with the Class of 2199. They can check out the spacecraft and landing site.”
“Good. Give them the orders, Ensign.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said the runner as he saluted and took off.
I wonder if that ship has any intel on the Gamilons? Singleton thought.
TO BE CONTINUED…