Beyond Mars Crimson Fleet Read Free

extraordinary moment, the Martians had
radically defined their future; they were leaving old Mars and the
Earth’s tyrannical domination—forever.
    Above the throngs of people nudging and shouldering
their way to freedom, scores of distant flares high above in the
night’s sky constantly interrupted the evening’s darkness. The
flares burst and flickered brightly for a few seconds then faded
into blackness closely followed by an occasional loud “boom” or
two. Adding to that, fiery showers of meteor-like objects of
various sizes traveled through the outermost atmosphere in all
directions, creating a gigantic fireworks display that was ever so
frightening. For all knew the titanic celestial engagement of
warships fighting just beyond their world was to decide the very
fate of their lives.
    As the
bloodletting continued, a tall slim man with wavy black hair and
impeccably dressed in a slate gray Mao suit stood on the bridge of
the loading spaceliner Morning
Star . His cold brown eyes gazed steadily
upward through a large overhead skylight that gave only a
diminutive glimpse into the warring heavens. Martian Administrator
Feoras Damon nonchalantly evaluated the distant battle between the
Martian fleet and ships of a reserve force sent from Earth. His
face showed no expression as he watched casually and listened to
the cracking of military communications over a loud
speaker.
    "Five enemy fighters at ten o’clock high."
    "Two more fighters coming in at three o’clock
low."
    "Damage control! Hull
breaches on aft decks two and three!"
    "Port side, enemy star
cruiser burning and out of control."
    "CONROY! CONROY! YOU’VE
GOT ONE ON YOUR TAIL!"
    "Zeta Leader to Zeta
Flight, reform on my wing."
    "HANSON! EJECT, DAMN YOU! EJECT!"
    As the man stared unceasingly at the conflict in
space, an awkward smirk betrayed his contempt for the entire
affair. Although the voices of military men and women filled the
air with their both desperation and bravery, he found little to
maintain his interest in the titanic life or death struggle. Truly
this was an historical moment, but all he felt was a great
annoyance for the interruption of his political career.
    "Will someone shut that damn thing off and give it a
rest!" Damon raised his voice in an infuriate tone.
    Captain Jacobs, an aged and balding man of many
years, looked up momentarily at the administrator and then turned
to the communications crewman. "Shut it off," he ordered.
    The captain raised his hand
and stroked his graying moustache and goatee. For a few seconds,
the starfarer studied the administrator as the man persisted in
gazing up at the afar haze of combat. The sailor then strolled
gradually over to the tall man.
    "I thought you would be interested in hearing about
the progress of the fleet?" the captain finally quizzed Damon.
    "Progress of the fleet? Don't make me laugh! We both
know how this is going to end. Personally, I can't wait until this
charade is over with," Damon conceded his sanctimonious
thoughts.
    "I'm sure Commander Paladin would be quite touched
by your concern and loyalty," Jacobs offered sarcastically, but
Damon just ignored the remark.
    "I'm going to my cabin. Notify me when the battle is
over with," Damon said in a huff. He then turned and headed towards
the hatchway.
    Captain Jacobs watched as
the man departed. His disdain for the politician showed readily in
his narrowed eyes and tensed brow that cast a hint of anger and
disgust. Even though Jacobs was a man who would do mostly anything
for money, he felt sorry for the poor souls on both sides now
engaged in the fighting overhead. As he looked up through the large
porthole and surveyed the distant death of ships and crews, an old
prayer remembered came to his lips. Suddenly a large explosion
appeared in the void and shimmered brightly, but it soon vanished
along with his quiet words. With a deep sigh, the vessel's steward
went back to his ship's business.
     
    * * * * *
     
    In the cosmos around Mars,