The Star Cross Read online

  “That’s enough,” Aldrich said, shaking his head. These aliens had everyone on edge. “I don’t see what we can do about the civilians.”

  He had six other Marines with him, and they had been following the Profiteers as they moved through the small town. The aliens had stripped all the valuables from the town’s two jewelry stores and then proceeded to round up twenty humans.

  “We can take them out,” suggested Lasher. “They’re not expecting an attack. We can take them out and free the captives.”

  “Then what?” asked Aldrich evenly. “The Profiteers might nuke the town. That would result in the deaths of thousands. Is that what you want?”

  Lasher shook his head and let out a deep breath. “No.”

  Aldrich heard what sounded like frightened voices, and, looking back around the wall he and his men stood behind, he saw the captives being led from the gymnasium to the waiting shuttle. He wanted more than anything to order his squad to attack, to free the men and women. Several of the women were crying and sobbing hysterically. A few of the men looked like they wanted to fight back, but the heavily armed Profiteers were having none of that. Aldrich saw that most of the twenty were young, probably in their early to mid-twenties. Most of the women were quite good looking. Aldrich could feel his heart pounding, and he was taking deeper breaths. His grip tightened on his assault rifle.

  “What’s happening?” asked Corporal Lasher intently.

  “They’re moving the prisoners,” Aldrich answered. He ducked back behind the wall, when one of the Profiteers looked in his direction. “Let’s move and report in. Headquarters needs to know the aliens are rounding up humans.”

  As they pulled back and went down several deserted side streets to where they had left their vehicle, Aldrich felt as if he had failed in his mission. The duty of the military was to protect civilians, not observe them being herded into shuttles as if they were animals. Someday the word would be passed down for them to fight back; he hoped that day would come soon.

  -

  Aboard the Ascendant Destruction, First Profiteer Creed watched in deep satisfaction as the last shuttle full of humans docked to one of the detainee ships to unload its cargo. He had given strict orders that only young and healthy humans were to be sent to the slave markets on Kubitz. He wanted prime merchandise to be presented, so the prices could be driven up. He fully expected to receive anywhere from ten to fifteen thousand credits from each sale. That would make this load worth over twenty million credits! Enough money to buy several first-line battleships, if he wanted. If he did that, and hired the necessary crews, he would never have to hire mercenaries again.

  The first bunch of captives had been taken to Kubitz for training and should be nearly ready for the slave auctions. He wished he could be at Kubitz for the sales, but that was impossible, so he had hired a dependable handler to take care of selling the humans. It would cost him a commission on each sale, but the profits would easily cover it.

  It didn’t take long for the shuttle to unload its cargo, and then both detainee ships and the cargo ship formed up with the Dacroni battleship, the Profiteer battlecruiser, and the two light escorts going along for protection. While Creed wasn’t worried about the humans attempting to intercept the small convoy, it wasn’t totally unheard of for other Profiteers to ambush another competitor’s ships to take its riches. Creed was making sure that didn’t happen.

  “All ships are ready to depart,” reported Third Profiteer Lukon from Communications. “Clan Leader Jarls is waiting for your permission to send them on their way.”

  “He wants to see that cargo deposited in the holding accounts on Kubitz,” growled Second Profiteer Lantz.

  “It’s in the contract,” Creed reminded his second in command. “There will be plenty for all of us before this is over. Earth will make us very rich.”

  Creed gazed at the tactical screen for several moments at the seven green icons representing the waiting convoy. Once word of this convoy reaching Kubitz got out, everyone would know he had made a major find. Others might possibly even come looking for Earth. Just another reason why he had replaced his lost ships and hired Clan Leader Jarls. There would be no trespassing on his new territory.

  “Inform Clan Leader Jarls that the convoy may leave,” he ordered.

  Moments later, the convoy vanished into hyperspace. Creed allowed himself to smile; his first booty from Earth was safely away. It would take the convoy twelve to fourteen days to reach the open star cluster where the Gothan Empire and Kubitz were located. Once the ships were unloaded, they would immediately return. This was only the beginning of many such convoys.

  -

  Jarls watched in satisfaction as the convoy left. He had already been paid one hundred million credits for his fleet’s services, and, once the convoy reached Kubitz, an additional eighty million would be paid to him as his share. This would be the easiest money he had ever made. Already he was making plans to double the size of his clan’s fleet. He might even buy a large estate back on Dacron Four. He was interested in a prominent estate set back in a large mountain range there. This contract would give him the credits to buy it and more. Jarls folded his massive arms across his powerful chest. He was already planning on pushing High Profiteer Creed to extend the contract for an additional ninety days.

  -

  In Youngstown, Ohio, Corporal Donald Mercer watched angrily as six heavily armed aliens escorted twelve humans into a small fenced-in enclosure within one of the city’s public parks. From what the corporal could see, at least fifty people were already inside the enclosure, sitting on the grass. They looked frightened and were talking to each other in low voices. Corporal Mercer knew he had strict orders not to interfere with the Profiteers, but his sister and her husband were two of the people the aliens were now putting inside the enclosure.

  “What are we going to do?” asked Private Patricia Hatterson, standing next to him.

  Donald motioned for his squad to move out of sight into an alley. “I can’t let them take my sister,” he said, knowing he was about to disobey orders. He looked at the other eight men and women who were with him. “I can’t ask you to do the same.”

  “We’re with you,” Hatterson said without hesitation. “If it were a member of my family who the aliens had, I would do everything in my power to get them back.”

  “No alien shuttle on the ground,” another private pointed out. “When it returns, it will probably take the people they’ve rounded up. So, whatever we do, it needs to be soon.”

  “My sister has a three-year-old son, who’s staying at my parents,” Donald said in a quiet voice. “I don’t want him raised without his mom and dad. If we do this, we have to take out all the aliens and hide the bodies.”

  Hatterson moved to the edge of the alley and raised her rifle, gazing through its scope at the aliens around the enclosure. “I count fourteen of them,” she said, as she stepped back farther into the alley. “They’re all heavily armed and wearing some type of light body armor.”

  “We have armor-piercing rounds,” commented another private. “They should penetrate the body armor.”

  “We’ll have the element of surprise,” one of the other privates pointed out. “We can do this.”

  “Very well,” Donald said, reaching another decision. He felt his heart beating faster, knowing what he was about to commit his squad to. “We’ll spread out around the perimeter of the park. Everyone pick out a target, and, at my signal, you’ll open fire. Once the first alien goes down, we have to take out the rest quickly, before they can signal their shuttle or one of their spaceships in orbit.”

  “A lot of cover in the park,” Hatterson said. “Between the trees and the statues, we should be able to get pretty close without detection.”

  -

  It took a few minutes, but the nine determined soldiers quietly made their way to the boundaries of the park, and then used the tall trees and park statues to gradually move into firing range. The Profiteers seemed
more interested in looking at their captives and making comments to each other, as they pointed out various humans.

  Donald reached the position he sought behind a pair of large trees, which concealed him from the Profiteers. He waited a few more minutes, until he was satisfied the rest of his squad had reached their firing positions. He took a deep steadying breath, knowing what he was about to do could result in his court-martial and end his military career.

  Raising his rifle, Donald took careful aim as he looked through his scope, until it was centered on the chest of the nearest Profiteer. As soon as his shot was fired, the others would follow suit. Donald took a deep breath and slowly squeezed the trigger. A loud shot rang out, and he saw his target stumble back with a startled look on his face. His light blue skin color suddenly turned white, as he looked down at the spreading red stain on his chest; then he fell to the ground.

  Other soldiers were firing now, and more of the aliens were taken out. From the enclosure, panicked screams could be heard, as the captured humans dove for cover. However, now the aliens were firing back. Bright blue beams of energy lashed out from the Profiteers’ weapons.

  Donald heard a loud scream over to his right and saw one of his soldiers stumble from behind a tree with a smoldering hole in his chest. The soldier looked over at Donald with a frightened look on his face and then collapsed to the ground, not moving. An energy beam struck one of the trees near Donald, blowing a large smoking hole in the trunk. He winced and then resumed firing at the aliens. They needed to end this quickly; he would mourn the dead later.

  For another minute, the firing was intense. The Profiteers were exposed with little cover, while the soldiers were behind the trees and statues. The sound of heavy weapons fire filled the air, along with the high-pitched humming sound made by the aliens’ energy weapons.

  Private Hatterson was under heavy fire from a Profiteer, who was kneeling and firing energy burst after energy burst toward her position. Taking careful aim, Donald fired two rounds into the alien’s chest, dropping him to the ground. Then the firing died down and came to a stop. It suddenly became very quiet.

  Stepping from behind the trees, Donald jogged toward the park’s interior enclosure, his assault rifle held at the ready in case any of the aliens had survived the attack. Other soldiers appeared, quickly approaching the enclosure.

  Private Hatterson stopped at a Profiteer sitting on the ground, holding his shoulder. The alien looked up at her with a scowl on his face. Without a moment’s hesitation, she pulled the 9mm pistol from her holster and put a bullet in the alien’s head. “No prisoners,” she said firmly. “Not after what they did to Chicago and Washington, DC.”

  Donald nodded. He agreed with her sentiment. “Let’s set these people free and get them away from the park. Then we’ll come back and hide the bodies.” Looking around he saw that three of his soldiers were missing. It didn’t take long to confirm they had been killed in the brief battle.

  Several of his squad quickly opened the gate to the enclosure and ushered out the people. A few had to be helped, as they had been wounded too.

  “Donald!” his sister screamed, as she saw who had rescued them. She rushed up, giving him a quick hug, and then stepped back. “Where did you come from?”

  “Don’t worry about that for now,” he replied, as he looked at his sister and brother-in-law. “Get to Mom and Dad’s, and stay there.”

  “Is there anything we can do to help?” his brother-in-law asked.

  “Just get these people as a far away as possible,” Donald said.

  After a few minutes, his sister and her husband were far down the street, leading away the other freed human captives. Satisfied they were out of danger, Donald turned. It was time to remove the dead bodies of the aliens and to hide what had happened here.

  Donald heard a vehicle engine and saw Private Hatterson drive up in a pickup truck.

  “Where did you find the keys to that?” he asked.

  “I hot-wired it,” she said with a grin. “Something I learned as a kid.”

  “Let’s get these bodies loaded up, and we’ll hide them where the other aliens won’t find them,” Donald ordered. He wondered briefly what type of life Hatterson had had before joining the military, if she knew how to hot-wire a vehicle. He was afraid to even ask.

  “We can’t hide all the evidence of a battle being fought here,” one of the other privates pointed out. “The Profiteers’ energy weapons left burn marks and spent shell casings are everywhere.”

  “We’ll police the area as well as we can,” answered Donald, knowing the private was right. “Maybe we can cause just enough doubt so they won’t be certain what happened here.”

  “Will you report to command what we did?”

  Donald let out a deep breath. “Yes, I think I have to, just in case there are repercussions.” It was just starting to set in that three of his soldiers had died in the battle. He had been in command and he was responsible for their deaths.

  An hour later the park was clear. All that remained was an empty enclosure and a few smoldering trees were Profiteer energy weapons had struck.

  -

  Several hours passed and two Profiteer shuttles landed in the large parking area next to the park. Twenty heavily armed profiteers swarmed out and moved carefully to the enclosure. For twenty minutes, they searched, looking at the burn marks and finding a few spent shell casings that the human soldiers had overlooked. They also found several telling areas of blood on the ground. They took a few samples and then returned to their shuttles, which promptly lifted off.

  An hour later the park suddenly exploded, as a powerful ion beam impacted the ground. Other beams flashed down from space, destroying parked vehicles, buildings, and even blasting deep holes in the city’s streets. For ten minutes, the deadly onslaught continued before finally coming to a stop. When it ended, a ten-block area around the park had been devastated. Bellowing fires raged everywhere, and smoke rose to blot out the sun.

  -

  In orbit, First Profiteer Creed looked at a large viewscreen, which showed the devastation his ion beams had wrought. He had promised the humans he wouldn’t nuke any of their larger cities, as long as they paid the monthly tribute. However, he had never said anything about not using other weapons.

  “That should teach them a lesson,” Creed said, his ruthless gaze watching as the smoke from his attack covered the stricken city.

  “For now,” Second Profiteer Lantz agreed. “However, there’ll probably be more incidents.”

  “Then they’ll pay the penalty each time,” Creed said, feeling no remorse at what he had done. “We own this world now, not them.”

  -

  General Braid stepped into President Mayfield’s office with a grim look on his face. “There’s been an incident in Youngstown, Ohio.”

  Mayfield knew from the tone of the general’s voice that the news wasn’t good. “What’s happened?”

  “A young corporal and his soldiers attacked a compound where the Profiteers were holding people for transport to their ships,” Braid began. “Evidently two of the captives were his sister and brother-in-law. He killed the fourteen Profiteers holding them and freed the prisoners. When the Profiteers learned what had happened, they used some type of energy beam to level about ten city blocks. Casualties are estimated to be around two to three thousand.”

  President Mayfield closed his eyes and shook his head. “This was bound to happen,” he said, pained at the loss of so many civilian lives.

  “At least they didn’t destroy the entire city,” Braid said. “They could have, if they wanted to.”

  “What will you do about the corporal?”

  “He’s turned himself in and accepted responsibility for his actions.”

  “His sister,” said Mayfield, thinking about the corporal’s actions. He wondered what he would have done in the same situation. “Hold the corporal for a few days and then let him go. I suspect this won’t be the last incident.”
r />   General Braid nodded and replied grimly, “No, it won’t.”

  After the general left, President Mayfield moaned and thought over what had happened. It would be many long months before newly promoted Fleet Admiral Vickers could do anything, possibly even years. Mayfield dreaded thinking about what could happen to the people of Earth between now and the time Vickers returned. Mayfield greatly feared that many more people would die before this was over.

  Chapter Eight

  Fleet Admiral Vickers gazed at the large viewscreen on the front wall of the Command Center. A blue-white globe floated there with deep blue oceans and a scattering of white clouds. Newton was a beautiful world, holding a little over eight million people. He hoped it would still be unharmed when he returned from the Gothan Empire.

  -

  Leaning back in his command chair, he thought briefly about the conversation he had had with Profiteer Grantz several weeks before.

  Kurt and Captain Randson had sat down in a secure briefing room with the Profiteer. On the table was a small bar of gold that Kurt had brought along to ensure that Grantz was cooperative.

  “More gold,” Grantz said with a slight hint of greed in his voice. “What is it you want this time? I have already agreed to act as one of your crew, until such a time as my contract has been fulfilled.”

  “Your contract is pretty simple,” Kurt said, as he ran his right hand over the bar of gold, which sat on the table directly in front of him. “What I want to discuss are what we humans call bonuses.”

  “Bonuses?” Grantz asked with a confused look in his large eyes. “What do you propose?”

  “For you to act as more than just a member of this crew,” Kurt said carefully. “For you to do everything in your power to ensure our mission is a success. If it is, you will leave this ship a very rich man.”

  Grantz seemed to consider what Kurt had just said. His large eyes strayed to the bar of gold on the table. “If I agree, I want the guards on my quarters removed.”