Incoming
Chapter 12

Copyright© 2009 by Remo Jackson

"Frank I want a full and thorough investigation into Admiral Greerson's death and a complete scan of orbiting trash." Smith stopped then turned and slammed his fist into the conference table. "Damnit! How could this have happened?" Smith walked over to the beverage dispenser and poured a cup of tea.

"Artie, I don't know. We've sent scan teams out before to survey that ring of comsats. Its all inconclusive reports." Curtis tossed the reports onto the table. "We can't locate a single active H/K bird out there. Hell, the residue from the crash almost matches our ordnance." Curtis stood and moved to the status board. "Right now, we didn't need this right now. That Newson fleet is breathing down out necks. We got reports of troop ships that slipped past our blockade." He turned to Smith. "The center will not hold." He said finally. Smith turned abruptly at that.

"What?!" He stared hard at his old friend. "What did you just say?" Curtis met his stare.

"I said the center would not hold. It's an ancient saying. What's the problem?" Smith moved over to the briefing materials stacked at the end of the table.

"Frank that's it. It's the center. Right in front of us this entire time, it's the center." Smith rifled through the stack until he came to the file he was looking for. Flipping open pages he thrust it at Curtis.

"Don't you see? It's the center. It's the center of this planet! The damn thing is somehow hollow. That would explain why we haven't been able to catch any of the indigenous lifeforms. Think about it man, a major global war, weather turned to shit. Where else would you go if not underground?"

"OK, Artie, so it's hollow or honeycombed with underground passages. Why would the Newson want it so bad? I'm sure with their technology they have earth moving equipment." He said somewhat sarcastically. Smith ignored the sarcasm. He tossed the file down in front of Curtis.

"Damnit Frank! Don't you see? The Algearians moved underground to protect themselves and safeguard the secret to this planet." He moved to the status board again. "Contact Major Hunter. Have his men move East to grid 212 just at the base of hill 214." Curtis looked confused.

"Major Hunter? Major Hunter from SOCOM? Lee's utility troubleshooter? It'll take him at least three standard days to get here, set up and brief his men. We don't have that kind of time Art." Smith turned from the board a grin on his face.

"Hunter's already here and set up. Lee sent his team in as a research and survey unit." Curtis was stunned.

"How could you have known this? I've been to all the briefings, seen all the intel reports, Hell, I authorized the troops deployments. How could Lee have sent a team in without my knowing it?"

"Relax Frank. I requested them before we left Broder. Kirby even signed off on it. They've been operating out in the fringe areas all this time with direct access to all our intel reports." He paused to sip his now cooling tea. "I've had a direct link with them since they lost a scout vehicle. I chopped them some support personnel and a company of engineers." Smith removed a disc from his vest pocket. "It's all here Frank. Everything including the discovery of an entrance." Curtis took the disc, still in shock. "Somehow, the Newson knew we would find an entrance and they want whats inside this mud ball bad. Bad enough to send an armada to pound us. We need to find out what's down there and secure it." Curtis all but collapsed into a chair still holding the disc.

"Artie this is incredible. We need to notify OpsCom immediately. They need to be apprised of the situation." Smith put his cup down hard on the table.

"Like hell! We don't notify them until we deal with the Newson fleet. This planet needs to be secure before we start celebrating our discovery." Curtis nodded agreement and tucked the disc away in a shirt pocket. He stood, took a deep breath, as Smith turned back to status board.

"Alright Artie, we do it your way." He paused. "For now." He added quietly as he turned and left the conference room.

At the base of Hill 214, a major excavation operation was already underway.

Major Hunter moved around the engineering equipment, stepped over power and data cables and moved to the center shelter, erected inside an abandoned building and over the excavated hole. His men were around the building, securing the perimeter. Inside the shelter, the senior engineering officer was making a final equipment check.

"Anything new?" Hunter asked as he entered. Pitt, the other officer looked up. "Nothing yet. But we're still working on it." He turned back to his console and began to fine-tune his screen. "We dropped six probes into the hole and number five scanned your scout vehicle." Pitt held out the scan log as he continued his calibrations. Hunter took it and paged through it.

"Any sign of my men?" he asked. Pitt turned to him. "Not yet. But someone set a beacon at the vehicle."

Onboard Archangel, the CIC was lit in combat red as Captain Winslow reviewed the damage reports. The interior had some lingering smoke from an earlier fire. Powell approached the command chair with more reports.

"Sir. The Hackworth reports severe damage to shielding and life support. Liggett and Alliance are escorting her back to the far side of the planet. No word yet from Decoursey. The Clancy has lost four launch bays. Paladin lost some of her missile launchers and shielding." He looked back down at his report. "We lost eight percent of our Talons and only two percent of the Raptors. The Newson armada has turned to heading 151 and is moving at flank speed away from us. It would appear that they are combat lossing the heavily damaged ships as they go. Two squadrons of Raptors are currently harassing and keeping them from changing direction." Winslow nodded as he paged down the damage report.

"We gave them what for alright. If it weren't for their damn self-detonation when a capital ship is destroyed, our losses would be much less. Even engaging at our extreme long range just isn't enough." He looked up in the dim red light. "Any word from Battle Group Bravo?" Powell shook his head sadly.

 
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