Desperate Action: The Traveler Series, #1

By Frank DeCaire

Commander John Winters has been fighting the war since the aliens first arrived 22 years ago. Earth has been ravaged and the alien vessels continue to come through a portal near the asteroid belt. For years, the Steel Castle class destroyers have kept them at bay, but now resources are dwindling.

Young men able to fight are in short supply. High-tech computer chips are becoming rare. The navy is down to a handful of ships and only two that are able to destroy the alien spheres at their point of entry, and it requires both of them to perform such a feat. When the Ruby Demon is destroyed while meeting the enemy at the portal, there is only one ship left: the Falling Star. Commander Winters is recalled and given orders that only a crew with a death wish would perform. To make matters worse, he must carry out his orders without his crew knowing them ahead of time. It's a desperate ploy. If they fail, there will be no ships able to stop the alien spheres from attacking Earth at will. If they are successful, then they have a chance that they can cut off the portal-generating alien station and stop the spheres from coming.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frank DeCaire
• Release date: Dec 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215224601

Book preview

Prologue

Humans colonized most of the solar system over the past 200 years, causing a need for interstellar flight. To send probes to the nearest 12 star systems required humanity to solve a set of miracles in technology. The probes sent out needed to achieve one-tenth of the speed of light at a minimum. Designing a drive system to propel a craft at such speed was the first miracle of engineering. Each probe still took over 40 years to arrive at their destination. Building a robotic machine that would last long enough to survive the trip was the second miracle. The laser transmitter required to relay information back to our receiving stations would take at least 4 years at the speed of light to arrive, and it had to be accurate enough to ensure the beam passed through our solar system. That was miracle number three. It seemed like a daunting task.

Engineers and scientists spent many years solving the daunting engineering tasks, and the probes were sent. When photos of colonized planets began arriving, the scientists were elated. Then a discovery was made: an alien race was invading every solar system surrounding Earth. The alien race was ruthlessly violent, with weapons beyond our imagination.

Many thought we had been lucky that our civilization encountered a hostile alien race on their territory instead of ours, giving us time to prepare for their arrival. Others were more pessimistic and wondered how things would have unfolded had we discovered them much earlier, or maybe if we had not run into them at all.

Everyone agreed about one thing: we knew they were coming.

Ensign Winters followed in his father’s footsteps and received his commission as an officer in the United States Space Navy. Shock of the discovery of hostile aliens invading nearby star systems had worn off since the announcement was made more than a year ago. January 2273, the first ship in need of a new ensign was the USS Kilby. By October, after having spent hundreds of days beyond Mars orbit, patrolling the belt, the shininess of the Navy had worn off. He was beginning to question his life choices, which placed him in the most boring job in the solar system. He often wondered how his wife and daughter were getting along without him for such long stretches of time.

He leaned against a rack of communications equipment in radio central while watching the radio personnel scramble around to reset the secure codes for the new day. The equipment panels were made from milled aluminum and cold to the touch. He made it a habit to lean on one spot and stay there while it was warm.

He sipped from his zero G mug of coffee. The tiny integrated straw allowed him to suck the liquid out of a bag inside the cup. He remembered joking about how the space navy used the same mugs as on Earth, except they cost ten times the price. The first time he tried to use a mug in zero G, he discovered it was a more difficult to drink out of than he expected. When he shelled out the big bucks for his own zero G mug, he guarded it with a passion, assuming that this would be the last mug he would ever buy.

The liquid he sucked out was still hot, thanks to the double-walled design. His favorite mix with chocolate cream perked him up during the early watch, like today. He folded the straw down to keep the liquid from leaking out while he held the cup in front of him.

The hissing of background radio noise picked up by the ship’s receivers filled the compartment. An occasional beep punctuated the hissing. A faint sound of a modulated data transmission could be heard from the speakers if one listened hard enough. Ensign Winters liked to think he could decode the ones and zeros just by listening to the tones. In reality, he knew the data speed was too fast for a human ear to pick up clearly.

A short burst of audio from the USS Meridian drowned out all other noises in radio central.

USS Kilby, this is USS Meridian. We’re detecting a massive energy build up.

A blond woman, named Verna Hurley, was seated in front of one of the consoles. She created a flash message and filled in the header information, including the routing string COMNAVSPACEMARS. The routing string was used by ships and command centers to deliver messages to the correct destination. In this instance the message was directed at the command headquarters for the space navy at Mars. She spoke into her headset as she typed. Ensign Winters was not connected into the internal ship’s comms system and couldn’t listen in on the conversation. He should be on the line, but the headset caused his head to sweat, and he wanted to have some relaxation time with his cup of Joe.

He craned his head to overhear what the Petty Officer was saying. Her tone and answers gave him little hints. She was talking to someone on the bridge. Ah, there was mention of the captain. He peeked over her shoulder as she hammered out the message being relayed from their captain.

Alien incursion has begun...

The alarm blared and jerked him out of his relaxed state. He thanked his lucky stars his duty station was also his GQ station. All he had to do was stay in radio central.

He put the headset on and waited for his people to check in while setting his mug on the deck. His suit hung on a rack in the back of radio central. He grabbed it and put a leg through one opening while using a touch screen mounted to the bulkhead to check in his people. When everyone checked in, he relayed to the bridge that all were accounted for and on station. The XO would tally up all departments and report crew readiness to the captain. Ensign Winters zipped his suit and held onto his helmet.

He disconnected his headset from the bulkhead plug and changed the wire for the one inside the neck of his suit. Once he tested the headset to make sure the connection still worked, he put his helmet on and secured the ring. It took several minutes to adjust the controls on his arm to get the air mixture and temperature adjusted to something comfortable. Then he had to play with the defog control because he couldn’t see through the face shield.

Radio central was tight when personnel were on watch. Putting on their suits made it too tight for comfort. Ensign Winters tried to stay out of everyone’s way and let them do their jobs. He pushed past one of the radiomen after checking the man’s suit. Then he verified each person as he walked through to make sure their suit was rigged correctly for GQ. They had practiced the task thousands of times. Now it was for real.

The ship shuddered as though something had rammed them. His headset became overwhelmed with multiple people talking at once.

One at a time! Sit-rep!

A voice from another compartment blurted out. There’s a massive hole near engineering. Several people were sucked out. The atmosphere in this compartment has evacuated.

Ensign Winters relayed the status to the bridge.

Verna started another flash message to command headquarters. Working with a keyboard while wearing a suit wasn’t optimal, but she had practiced so much that she looked natural while doing it.

Fleet under attack. Several ships have taken massive damage from three alien craft that have emerged from a hole in space. The three craft resemble silvery spheres that are larger than the Kilby. Our weapons are useless against them. The aliens are heading toward Earth. Kilby in pursuit.

There was more to the message, but Verna hit the transmit button. This was standard practice to ensure a message was received in case their ship was destroyed.

The engine vibration was the first thing he felt. Then the G forces increased until he had to sit on the deck and try to conserve his energy. He wished he had a seat in radio central, but the designers did not see any reason for the comms officer to sit. He had never really thought much about it until now. When the ship was accelerating flat out.

As the G forces increased, he felt the need to lie flat on the deck. He grunted as the forces increased beyond 4 Gs. His body ached, and he had no idea how much more he could take. By the time his suit registered a force of over 5, he laid flat on his back and prayed they would catch the alien craft and neutralize them soon.

He could feel his eyeballs flattening. At least, that’s how he imagined it. His chest felt like an elephant was standing on him. Breathing was a chore, and he was tiring from the effort. His headset clicked as someone activated their transmitter. He only heard grunting and heavy breathing.

I can’t...take much more...

Ensign Winters forced his hand to his side and felt around for the transmit switch. He squeezed it hard. Hang in there... He took a few breaths of air. It’ll all be over soon. Then he released the switch and felt his arm pin to the deck. The tingling sensation in his hand from impacting the deck so hard added to his misery. His suit showed 6 Gs and climbing.

His vision was going gray. He thought about his wife and baby girl. Would Abigail and Lydia ever know what happened to him if he died out here?

The pain eased and the G forces dropped rapidly. He felt as though he were being flung upward, though his body did not leave the deck. The meter inside his helmet read 2 Gs as his vision cleared. Then the Gs dropped to 1 and held.

The 1MC chirped. This is the captain. We are unable to continue pursuit of the alien craft. They are now beyond our range and accelerating. Ensign Winters couldn’t fathom an alien race that could survive such a high force of gravity. Maybe their bodies were tougher than humans. That would require a more powerful heart to keep blood flowing. Maybe they were short and squat.

One thing was sure, the war was only starting, and they just got their asses kicked.

CHAPTER 1

April 2295 (22 years later).

Commander John Winters wondered why the engineers didn’t design the Steel Castle class destroyers with wider passageways. There was enough room for one person to walk through. If two crew members needed to pass each other, they would have to turn sideways and squeeze by. This task was easier when the engines were not running and the ship was running at Zero G. Then they could push off one end and glide to the other, headfirst. Most of the time, the Falling Star was operated near one G to make it easier for the crew to move about and perform their duties.

There was some padding on the corners of passageways and a few ad-hock foam pads taped to metal boxes that crew members rigged up. Mostly after dinging their head on something. After years of modifying the ship to make it livable, it took on a look of being well lived in. Most of the bulkheads needed paint, but that was a luxury during wartime. Commander Winters would have loved nothing more than a six-month stay at the shipyard where his crew could fix all the broken systems and give the ship a fresh coat of paint.

He took a sip of his coffee from his 20-year-old zero G mug as he walked through the ship. Maybe engineering could fix the coffee machine someday. The machine had been putting out bad tasting coffee for years now. It didn’t seem to affect the health of the crew and water tests that engineering completed, indicated it was safe to drink. Whatever chemical was contaminating the coffee was part of the machine itself. It tasted like burnt rubber. One of these days he would have someone from engineering tear the machine down and find out what was leaching into his second favorite beverage.

Commander Winters headed down the passageway toward the ladder. He needed to climb two more ladders to reach the bridge. Checking his watch told him he better pick up the pace. The portal would open in under 40 minutes.

We should have burned much earlier, he said to no one as he made his way through the dark passageway. The rumble of the engines was a continuous sound that the crew grew accustomed to. He would have to give the command to kick it up a notch and get on station before the opening occurred. Their sister ship, the Ruby Demon, would need to perform the same maneuver. Together, they would confront the alien threat. Only as a pair could the destroyers stop the inbound enemy robotic ships.

The rough metal decking clanked under his boots as he made his way to the next ladder. He grabbed the handrails and ascended the ladder to the next level. Sailors waited at the top to descend the same ladder.

Make a hole!

The enlisted at the top of the ladder pinned their backs to the bulkhead to allow him to pass quickly. Several technicians were just leaving the bridge. Probably performing maintenance before the end of the watch. The sound of boots descending the ladder echoed behind him as they piled down to the next level.

He stopped in front of a thick steel hatch with red warning stripes across it that led into the airlock behind the bridge. He used his security badge, which worked with every lock on the ship, to unlock the security hatch. When he brushed it past the worn metal box, a beep told him he could work the handle and open it. He gave the steel bar a solid jerk to unlatch the door. Then he pulled it open while stepping through. The solid steel door had some heft to it. The thickness of the steel used for the door and wrapping the entire bridge was designed to protect the crew from small weapons fire and shrapnel.

He sealed the hatch, then waited for the lock to engage on the outer door before the inner hatch access light turned green. A clicking sound told him that the inner hatch was ready to open. He manually unlatched and pushed the inner bridge hatch open. His ears popped as the seal on the door released.

He sealed the hatch behind, then turned toward the front of the bridge. The clank of the hatch closing attracted the attention of an enlisted person on watch. Boatswain’s Mate Second-Class Buchanan. Commander Winters stood still and watched the young boy’s eyes grow as he fumbled to call attention to the presence of a senior officer on deck.

Buchanan snapped to attention. Attention on deck!

Commander Winters hardly allowed Buchanan to call attention before he dismissed the command and nodded toward Buchanan.

As you were.

Buchanan relaxed. The quartermaster turned to witness the tiny commotion but did not snap to attention. He obviously heard the CO dismiss the attention on deck command. A little slow on the uptake. Commander Winters liked to play games with the enlisted on his ship. Sometimes, he would dismiss the crew before they had time to see him coming. Other times, they would try to snap to attention the split second they saw his boot coming through the hatch. All in good fun.

He tilted his head up and looked at the line of windshields that spanned the ceiling of the bridge. The forward direction of the ship was up. A design that allowed crew members to stand on the deck when the engines were running. The windows gave a large view of what lie ahead. Unfortunately, the bullet-proof glass in the windows was not as protective as the steel that lined the bulkheads. To ensure safety, each window had a cover that swung over the glass on the outside. The shields were operated by motors for automatic opening and closing and cranks on each window to allow a crewmember to open and close one window at a time if power failed. All the windows were currently in the open position.

The bridge was rigged for night running. The only illumination came from the red lights along the decking and the displays. This was standard practice when the forward windshields were open and limited the amount of light leaving the ship that could give away their position. Though Commander Winters wasn’t sure the alien craft cared about passive tracking. They always emerged with their scanners fully active.

Commander Winters smiled when he saw Lieutenant Hiller was currently on watch. I am assuming the watch.

Lieutenant Hiller turned and smiled. Commander Winters has the watch. I am hereby relieved. Lieutenant Hiller remained in his seat, even though he was officially off watch. He was the weapons officer and knew they were only minutes away from calling general quarters. There was no sense in wandering away from his post, then running back when the alarm goes off.

The quartermaster typed furiously into his computer console to record the event.

Commander Winters smiled as he gave his first official command of his watch. Close all shields.

The quartermaster entered the order into the log before hitting each switch on the console in front of him to activate the motors and close each hatch. Commander Winters checked his watch without drawing attention to himself. 33 minutes. He waited until all the shields were closed before issuing his next command.

Increase thrust to 2.1 Gs.

The helmsman replied as he pushed the throttle up while watching the G-force reading. Increasing thrust to 2.1 Gs.

Commander Winters picked up the microphone and switched to the 1MC setting. He keyed the mic and heard a moment of feedback that he knew would go away as soon as he spoke. This is the captain. All hands brace for an increase in G forces to 2.1. We have to make up for lost time. He unkeyed the mic and scanned around the bridge, trying to decide if there was more to relay to the crew. When he decided there was nothing new to report, he keyed the mic. That is all.

He stood next to the command seat and inserted an earpiece into his ear. He clicked the internal circuit to radio central.

Contact the Ruby Demon and tell them we have some catching up to do. Tell them we’re increasing speed to 2.1 Gs.

Aye, sir.

He switched off the circuit and leaned against the armrest of his seat. Commander Winters felt the extreme gravity pushing on his legs, causing him to tire. He climbed into the captain’s seat and hit a button to tilt it back some. The seat was mounted higher than all the seats on the bridge and offset to the starboard side. He pulled his mini flat screen up from the storage location in the armrest and locked it in place. Then he selected the forward camera. Tiny bright dots peppered the view in the distance.

Asteroids.

The Falling Star would veer off when they came close to the asteroid field. It was standard practice to do this after the portal opens and the attack begins.

He looked at his watch again and realized only a minute had passed since the last time he checked the time. When he dropped his arm to his side, he felt self-conscious and scanned the bridge to check if anyone had seen him. Fortunately, everyone was busy with their own tasks. He needed to work on his poker face. The captain of a ship could not allow his crew to see him nervous. No matter what the situation. A nervous captain could breed a nervous crew. A lesson he learned in officer training, but a technique he never quite mastered.

The screen still showed the asteroid field. The dots were tiny and didn’t seem to move due to the extreme distance from where they were. He hit the plot button and studied their current position, as well as the predicted position they will be in when the portal opens. According to the computer plot, they would be early. Too early.

Helm. Slow to 1.8G.

Helm answers slow to 1.8G.

The extreme gravity pulling him down let up some and felt relaxing by comparison. Once they arrive, they would shut down the engines and coast. Zero-G. For now, they had to power ahead to ensure they met the enemy at their most vulnerable position. With any luck, the two destroyers could destroy whatever comes through the portal before fully emerging.

He hoped the alien attack craft would be the same models sent through for the past decade, like clockwork. He feared that this time, they would send something new. Something more sophisticated. An advanced alien race should be able to learn from the performance of their past attacks. He wondered when it would happen and why it had not happened yet.

He tilted his left arm without raising it while squinting to see the time on his watch. Just over 25 minutes. The XO’s action report was late. He grabbed the mic again and switched back to the 1MC.

XO to the bridge. Then he hung the mic and turned the circuit off. He closed his eyes. The XO was the one man on his ship he couldn’t seem to connect with. He swore this time he would try to avoid a confrontation with him.

CHAPTER 2

The engineering birthing compartment was jammed with bunks and lockers. There was hardly enough room between the rows of bunks for two people to pass each other. The XO, Lieutenant Commander Herman Sparks wondered why the lighting had to be so dim. Inspections would be easier if the designers