Galactic Defenders- Perseverance

by Michael Mishoe

  ​The screen in the wall winked on, though Issacs could barely tell the difference from when it was turned off. As he always was, Director Jacob Carr was shrouded in darkness, showing only the barest silhouette of himself sitting in a chair, with nothing in the dark, empty background hinting at his whereabouts.

  ​“What do you think you should do?” Director Carr asked, his deep, slightly computerized voice resonating in the room.

  ​Issacs shook his head in dismay over his lack of viable options. “Sir I… the best thing to do is to send the Gladiator, along with a team of some other agents, to assist the Defenders since they're the most unified and successful military resistance force. One of our agents within the Defenders caught wind of the operation and managed to send us a message on one of our remaining encrypted channels. They aim to retrieve the materials to construct more nuclear warheads to use against the Ribiyar. Their plan is bold, but I believe it could prove fruitful if backed with enough force.”

  ​Director Carr nodded in agreement, though it was only from many previous encounters with him that Issacs was able to interpret the slight movement. “That does appear to be the best course you can take, Headmaster Issacs. Is Agent Law ready to pilot the Gladiator?”

  ​Issacs hesitated at the question. “It’s… difficult to say, Director Carr. She is the right one for the position, no doubt about that. However, the mental software is still very much in the developmental stage, and while it has had a great deal of success, there is still a rough nineteen percent margin for error to occur within the mental linkup. That’s not a guarantee that something will happen, but, in battle, those kinds of odds usually turn out to turn into something pretty ugly.”

  ​Director Carr nodded again, understanding and agreeing completely with Issacs comment. “Agreed. Which is why I want to go with them.”

  ​If Issacs had chosen to drink his coffee at that moment, it would have been spewed all over the desk before him. “But sir, you’ve been leading the Agency from this facility for over thirty years now. You haven’t left since…” Issacs trailed of, not sure if he should bring up the event.

  ​“Since I died, you mean?” Director Carr finished for him. “What you said is true, Issacs. Ever since I died, and the Agency managed to preserve me in this program, I’ve lead the next generation of agents as they faced off against many threats across the globe. But this threat is bigger than anything we’ve ever faced. I have to be in the field and personally see that our survival will come to pass.”

  ​Issacs was quiet for several moments as he thought it over and replied, “You do recall that you lack any real authority to force me to follow this action. You made sure of that yourself.”

  ​“That is correct,” Carr spoke, “to ensure I would never take over the Agency should my program ever be corrupted or otherwise compromised.”

  ​“And you also are aware of the fact that because of how complex your program is, we can’t make a copy of it. You’re all there is. If you get killed out there, so to speak, there is no way to bring you back.”

  ​“That is also correct. And that is the same threat every agent faces each time they go into the field.”

  ​“And finally, there is no way to predict how your program will react to being transplanted to another system. No one has ever tried before.”

  ​“Correct on all three observations. But even with all of the inherent risks involved, this may be the best way I can help, by guiding Agent Law through the various obstacles she will undoubtedly face.”

  ​Issacs was again consumed by thought, staying still as he collected his thoughts, and Carr remained silent as he awaited his decision.

  Finally, he replied, “With all the cards on the table in this invasion, no reason not to draw a wild card to see if we get an ace up our sleeve from it.”

  ​Director Carr nodded. “I’m glad you agree, Headmaster Issacs.”

  ​Issacs stood up from his chair, his resolve reborn and his sprit reignited with courage. “I’ll get our technicians working on the transfer right away, Director Carr, as well as debrief the agents we’ll need and get Oberon prepped for travel. Hope you’re ready to get some exercise, sir. If this all works out, it looks like you’re going on a trek through the jungles of Africa.” He turned to walk away but glanced at the screen one last time. “And sir… be careful out there, ok?”

  ​Carr chuckled as he shifted in his chair. “Don’t let yourself worry, Issacs. It’s just another day in the office.”

  ​Trying to hide the concern from his reaction, Issacs frowned as the screen winked off, and he walked out the room.

  ​I really hate it when he says that.

  Chapter 8

  Date: July 14, 2132

  Location: Southern Africa

  ​“You sure you’re up for this, Jack?” Colonel Brown asked softly, walking up from behind him as they both walked into the cargo bay, the loading ramp already extended. Twenty feet wide and long, and about sixteen feet tall, crates and supplies took up most of the space in the room and a dull gray metal flooring dimly reflecting the sunlight shining through the opening.

  ​Jack nodded slowly. “Yeah.” He lifted his right hand, clenched into a fist. “This virus isn’t going to keep me from one last fight.”

  River, Davidson, and Rogers approached them, all wearing large backpacks as well. The officers all wore lighter-colored camouflage pants tucked into light jungle boots, camo long-sleeved shirts, light bullet proof vests underneath, and gloves. Victor, clad in his armor, mumbled to himself as Blitz purred while walking against Jack’s legs, seemingly unaware of the dangers they were about to face.

  If only we all had the luxury of being oblivious to the dangers around us.

  “Alright,” Brown said and slung a large brown backpack on, filled to the brim with supplies, handing an even bigger one to Jack. He slid on a pair of shades and said, “Let’s get moving then. They left us some heavy-duty rides, so we’ll make some good time.”

  ​They all They stepped off the ramp, their boots sinking lightly as they stepped into the damp sand. By the time they got farther up the shore, the ramp had been stowed away, and the Thunderfox was beginning to recede back into the ocean depths. Blitz watched the ship for a moment, then jumped into the sand, rolling around as he enjoyed the new scenery.

  ​“Guess we know when they're glad to be rid of us,” Victor muttered. Though clad in his Serpent armor, his helmet was strapped to his backpack, letting his jet-black hair ruffle in the breeze.

  ​“The longer they were here, the better their chances of being spotted,” Colonel Brown said. “They’re just being careful.”

  ​Jack took a quick scan of the beach, making sure they were in the clear, before approaching a large crate that had been taken out of the Thunderfox, along with two heavy-duty enclosed four-wheeled military vehicles. Each car had a large gun turret near the back of the roof, as well as large compartments built into the rear for storage and an ammo line to resupply the gun.

  ​“Alright!” Rogers said, grinning widely. “These will do nicely. But what the heck’s in the crate?”

  ​Jack grabbed a panel of the crate and ripped it back, revealing a massive tiger with pearl- white fur that had sharp black stripes marking its back like a bar code. At the first glimpse of light, the tiger rushed out of the crate, lifted his head towards the sun, and rumbled a deep purr in its chest.

  ​“What the heck is this!?” Max River asked, nervously glancing at the hulking beast. “When did Syvon become a lion tamer?”

  ​“It’s alright!” Jack said, holding out his hands. Sensing something was off, his sensors beams danced off the animal’s fur, eliciting a displeased growl from the animal. “It’s an E.V.A.N.!”

  ​“Seriously?” Victor asked, a wicked gleam in his eye as he admired the beast.

  ​Another toy Victor wants to play with. Great. From behind the tiger, two more E.V.A.N.s appeared - a huge Siamese with brown fur, almost as big as a Golden Retriev
er, and a British Shorthair cat with dark grey fur. Jack saw that both of the cats wore collars with a little nametag on their neck, identifying the Siamese as Trigger and the Shorthair as Longshot.

  ​“What should we name the tiger?” River asked.

  ​“Luna,” Brown said as he walked up and stroked the top of its head, and the animal let out a satisfied purr. “Her fur reminds me of the radiance of the moon.”

  Blitz approached the newcomers, shaking his fur to let loose some sand in his hair, and they all nuzzled their noses with each other.

  ​“Whatever its name is,” Victor said as pulled open the door on one of the vehicles, “I hope its got some spring in its step, cause I’m not waiting for anyone to keep up, and it’s not riding in here.”

  ​When the team had left the Thunderfox, the sun was only a little above the horizon. Now, it was close to noon, the sun high above them, and they had made good distance through the African landscape. The trek was uneventful, doing their best to stay off main roads and paths, as they pushed through the ever-thickening jungle around them.

  ​Jack rode on the roof of the rear vehicle, lying on his chest and used magnetic pads across his body to stay on with ease. Blitz calmly rode beside him on the other half of the car, firmly in place with similar equipment as the breeze ruffled his fur and was entertained by Luna’s steady gallop alongside the vehicle. He unclipped his left arm and absently petted the cat’s head as he struggled to stay focused, the virus already causing adverse effects. It felt like he hadn’t gotten rest in days, and he knew it was only a prelude to what would eventually befall him.

  And as hard as his condition was, having to journey past the remains of demolished villages was even more difficult. Throughout the entire morning, they hadn’t come across a single survivor.

  ​“Vade,” Colonel Brown radioed softly, jarring him from his thoughts, “run a scan of the area. Can you find any Ribiyar?”

  ​Jack held out both of his arms outwards beside him and moved them slowly, the scanners in his hands searching as far as they could. He refrained from using the light-scanning beams on his hands, giving him a lower resolution scan but keeping their position more concealed. “There are no signs of Ribiyar within roughly a mile of our surroundings. Our movements appear to still be unnoticed.”

  ​“Good. The longer it stays that way, the better. There’s a city that’s been built up over the last decade up ahead, let’s rest up for a few before we move on.” Just as they reached the top of a large hill, the front car quickly stopped, and Jack’s vehicle took a sharp turn to avoid hitting it. And when he looked out at the landscape before him, he understood their reaction.

  What had been a semi-large and prospering city had been reduced to a crater, and his senses were assaulted with an acrid smoky smell. The team all silently got out of their cars and took in the scene before them, all with varying degrees of concern in their eyes.

  ​Even if we do win, how are we supposed to survive… when this is happening everywhere else?

  Location: Aboard the U.S.S. Thunderfox, at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean

  ​“How much farther until we arrive, Officer Mooring?” Captain Syvon asked from his chair in the bridge. Though he didn’t want to rush his officers harder than he needed to, time was of the essence. Every second they spent in transit was one less that he could use to prepare the Atlantis for the coming battle.

  ​“We are arriving now, sir,” Ensign Mooring reported from her station.

  In front of her on the forward display, he saw an underwater canyon slowly passing by, illuminated by the dim search lights on the outer hull of the Thunderfox. The ship’s metal creaked and groaned, but so far no damages or injuries had been reported.

  ​“Very good,” Syvon said. Turning in his chair towards Commander Ton, he asked, “How is the ship holding?”

  ​“From all indications, we’re holding steady, captain,” Commander Ton responded. “It’s good we’ve arrived though; I wouldn’t recommend going much deeper.”

  ​“Duly noted, commander. Are you finding any signs of something resembling a docking bay or a hanger of some kind?”

  ​Ton examined the sonar readouts. “I believe so. About a kilometer north, there appears to be an enclosed underpass of some kind. It’s possible that it could be what we’re looking for.”

  ​“Officer Mooring, ease her over to those coordinates. See if you can bring us in.”

  ​After checking her instruments, she replied, “I believe so sir. With our wings folded in, we should just be able to fit. And with the computer guiding my movements, I'll be able to bring us in, Captain Syvon.”

  ​Syvon nodded. “Begin our approach at once.” Tapping the intercom button, he said, “Lieutenant Commander Stone, you’re up. Get to the cargo bay and meet up with Tactical Chief Payton. Search the area we’re about to dock and report back the current situation.”

  ​Time to see what lies hidden 20,000 leagues under the sea.

  ​Though anxious about the upcoming mission, whether they would find friend or foe, Lieutenant Commander Stone walked into the cargo bay as confidently as he could.

  Seeing Chief Payton and the other officers, Stone walked over to them and before he could say anything, Payton asked, “Do you really think a bow and arrow is an effective weapon, considering what we’re up against?”

  ​“Do you really think your rifle is an effective weapon?” Stone responded in kind. “Don’t get me wrong: under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t be prancing around like a warrior from times past, and I’d be the first to use more conventional weapons. I’ll stick to these one-hit-kill death sticks while you spend hours trying to punch through their armor.”

  ​“Touché,” Payton replied. “I guess we’ll find out who’s right in the end, won’t we?”

  As he finished the sentence, the ship rocked beneath them as it landed, and moments later, the loading ramp lowered onto concrete.

  ​“Let’s get a move on,” Payton directed the officers, “and keep a low profile. We don’t know exactly what we’re going to find out here.”

  ​Moving swiftly but silently, they left the cargo bay. The place they entered was huge, over seven stories tall, with huge concrete pillars supporting the structure. Exposed metal beams held up the natural rocks at the top of the ceiling. Stacks upon stacks of food, equipment, and various metals were stuffed in crates all throughout the room. The Thunderfox had managed to find a shallow area near the pad, allowing it to hold steady on its landing gear.

  ​Based on what he had been told from Captain Syvon, what Stone saw here fit the report about the super-ship Atlantis being built in secret at the bottom of the ocean. The abundance of supplies and building materials firmly supported that theory. He continued to search through the towers of crates, his bow in hand with an arrow at the ready.

  Turning ever to the right, a hidden figure jumped him behind, and Stone stumbled forwards, reeling from the impact. The assailant smacked the arrow out of his hand and grabbed for the bow, but Stone struck him with it with all his strength. The bow hit his foe on his head and sent him staggering backwards, dazed from the impact. In the seconds Stone had before his attacker recovered, he got a good look at him. He was dressed head-to-toe in a dark gray camouflage suit, wore black combat boots, and sported a gray helmet that completely covered his face.

  ​Stone moved to take the guy down, but another soldier grabbed his head and forced him to his knees. He felt a barrel of a gun shoved into the small of his back.

  ​ “Stay down,” the soldier behind him growled, “if you have any interest in staying alive.”

  ​“Sir!” Commander Ton yelled out. Syvon turned in his chair and saw what he was pointing at. On the main display, he saw that his officers had been captured and were rounded up together in a line beside each other against a crate.

  ​“Have they killed anyone of our men?” Syvon asked.

  ​“I don’t think so, sir,” Lieutenant Kael said. “Our e
xterior sound equipment hasn’t picked up anything, but I can’t be sure.”

  ​“Do you want to send another team in?” Commander Ton asked.

  ​“No,” Syvon said as he kept his eyes glued to the screen, zooming in to enhance the image. “Get more officers ready to repel them, but for the moment, all we can do is watch this play out.”

  ​Stripped of his weapons, Lieutenant Commander Stone kept his back against the crate as he sat on the floor next to the other Thunderfox crew, watching as the soldier who had pulled the gun on him walked up.

  The man kneeled so his face was level with Stone’s.

  ​“Who are you?” the soldier demanded. “How did you find this place?”

  ​“We were sent here,” Chief Payton, sitting a few officers away, responded, “to find the Atlantis.”

  ​Though Stone was surprised Payton talked so freely with them, he realized that, if the vessel truly were down here, these soldiers had to be a part of the project. With any luck, that’ll mean we’re all on the same side.

  ​“Admiral Hofkins sent us," Payton continued. "Our orders are to help keep the president safe and do what we can to get the Atlantis operational, so we can use it in the fight against the Ribiyar.”

  ​The soldier stood up and glanced at Chief Payton. “I appreciate the support, truly, and I acknowledge the feat that you managed to make it this far underwater. But I’m afraid you are misinformed from this admiral. The Atlantis is meant for far greater things than to be a warship in this futile battle.”

  ​“Than what is the ship going to be used for?” Payton demanded. “Atlantis could be humanity’s last hope, and you want to use it for what?”

  ​“You are correct in that account,” the soldier responded. “The ship will be humanity’s last hope, but not in the way you believe. We’re going to use it to leave Earth, and human kind will continue its existence on another planet beyond the solar system, with Atlantis as the ark for our ascension through the stars.”