by Paul Dayton
Bishop looked at the voluptuous figure of Angela standing there and said, “Absolutely not! You are indeed very beautiful.” His thinking was slowly clearing up and he felt that a compliment would go a long way.
“As to your mental state, the oxygen generator had fai…”
At that moment a large rumble shook the base but Bishop didn’t feel it. What he witnessed instead were the lights going out. He was about to ask Angela what happened but when he tried to open his mouth he felt strange, as if he had lost touch with his surroundings. His mind told him he was drifting, and his eyes registered total blackness, as if he was somehow floating through the deepest darkness of space. Panic crept in as Bishop tried to feel for his surroundings, but realized that he couldn’t move his arms. In fact, he couldn’t even feel them, or the rest of his body. He yelled, but his screams were only in his mind as it registered no mouth to yell out of…
***
Hollander watched the support ship disappear from view as it was lowered into Pluto Deep Space Base. The platform was cleverly masqueraded to appear as the moon surface, and he was fuming at the deception.
“Commander, the weapons systems on the station are powering up, and they have a Cap Ship Laser!”
“SHIELDS! And get us below their firing angle!” he yelled, watching as the heavy ship slowly picked up momentum. There was a few seconds of silence as they watched the base laser appear and power up as their ship changed trajectory. Hollander held his breath without realizing it, until the computer calculated all the variables and came back with a ninety-nine percent chance that the base laser wouldn’t spool in time.
It was so close that had Tactical delayed for even a few seconds they would have been severely damaged or even perhaps destroyed. “Why didn’t we know about that laser?” he asked to all on the bridge, but received no reply.
Hollander held his breath and finally gave a sigh of relief once they passed the range of the weapon, with only eight seconds to spare. “Comm, try to reach our command team.”
“Sir,” Jumal said. “Deep scans showed no weapon until it was activated. Now that it has deactivated we no longer pick it up again!”
“How’s that possible, Jumal?” Hollander asked.
Dresdon spoke up. “Commander, with the proper equipment and a quick shutdown you can make even a hot weapon disappear. If you’ll remember, we experimented with that in the early twenties but gave it up because of feasibility reasons, but with a ground based system where secrecy and the element of surprise can make the difference between life and death, the idea becomes much more attractive. The base must have such a system.”
“If so,” Jumal interrupted before Hollander could reply, “we don’t have any record of that in our database either.”
“It definitely has something,” Hollander said after a moment’s thought. “It has caught us by surprise twice now. There won’t be a third time. Jumal, how effective would a Sorbik Type A be?” Hollander purposely chose the smallest clean bomb the WF ship carried.
After a few moments, Jumal replied, “Keeping in mind that base shielding would probably be minimal, a direct hit would cause considerable damage. The moon’s frozen crust has a considerable amount of liquid methane and oxygen mixed in with the dirt near its upper layer and it might react with the bomb and amplify its destructive force.”
“Would our command team be at risk?” Dresdon asked, afraid of the answer.
“Yes, depending on where in the base they are. The biggest problem is that the elevator shaft runs the entire depth of the base itself and any explosion could cause an implosion on the shaft, burying them alive.”
Hollander ran the mission objectives through his mind. The operational part of the base was nearly two kilometers underground. An open attack on the base would be a suicide run, so it obviously had to be a stealthy attack. Angela’s sensors would be on extreme sensitivity, knowing full well that an attack would be expected.
“This is impossible,” Hollander muttered to himself. Neither Hollander nor Dresdon could see any easy way to rescue their team.
“Sir,” the comm officer interrupted. “I just picked up a gamma burst…Wait… Communication from a tug.” Jumal turned to the comm officer, surprised that a tug would hail them, let alone show up.
“Put it through,” Dresdon said.
“This is Jack, come in WF221.” On hearing her voice, Dresdon nearly fell on his butt, and Hollander’s jaw dropped.
“Come on guys! I know you can hear me. Let me in!” Jack repeated.
“Open a link,” Dresdon said. “My God, is that you Jack? And what are you doing on a tug?”
“I’m not on a tug, I’m in my ship. The tug belongs to Loosechange.” Jack was getting upset but she composed herself and repeated the query, “Requesting permission to dock, Sir.” Dresdon looked at Hollander, who shrugged his shoulders. After giving a signal to the comm officer to cut transmission, he asked Jumal, “Do you read her ship?”
“No, Sir. Nothing on the scope at all other then the tug. Wait - the ship beacon has just activated and it is a… Klinger, Sir.”
“I see. Life forms?”
“Well, it’s uncertain Sir. Two humans for sure, plus the other life signs we picked up earlier.”
Dresdon thought for a moment and then said, “Comm on. Jack? Where the hell…?” Dresdon said.
“Yeah, I know. I’ll explain as soon as we land. Scratch is with me.”
“Scratch? He’s alive? I’ll meet you in docking bay…” He looked at the docking and egress schedule kept to the lower right of the Activities monitor and said, “Docking bay 12. See you soon, and welcome back! Stay out of firing range of the base on this moon we’re orbiting. They’re not friendly. That means you too, Loosechange. And by the way, we’re glad you all made it back alive.”
“Aroger dat, Captain,” Loosechange said over the comm. “Been fired on enough. By you guys too.”
“Do you listen in on everything, Loosechange?” Dresdon asked, bemused.
Slightly embarrassed, Ivan said, “Yes, Sir! If I not listen Jack and Scratch be dead now! Sir!”
Dresdon laughed and signed out.
Docking bay 12 was the very last bay on the port side of WF221, heavily built and large enough to accommodate small freighters. Out of all the bays available, it was by far the most secure and was also used to hold unusual and possibly dangerous cargo. Dresdon had no doubt that this was not lost on Jack. “Commander, could we put the issues with the base on hold for a few minutes while I greet Jack?”
“Certainly. Comm, send some guards down to Docking bay 12 and have Jack and Scratch escorted to the bridge once First Officer Dresdon clears them.”
Dresdon was surprised that the guards were being sent but he didn’t say anything. He hurried from the bridge to meet up with Jack, quickly running through his mind the events that led up to their abandoning the distress call.
Loosechange! He had jumped back to save Jack and they had left both of them behind with a Trojan Horse in the middle of enemy territory.
‘It’s impossible they survived!’ Dresdon thought, and yet here he was on his way to meet her.
Ship guards were waiting near the entrance of the docking bay for Dresdon, and together they walked out to the Klinger that had now landed. The forward cockpit hatch was open but Jack and Scratch hadn’t gotten off the ship yet. Dresdon’s attention had been diverted to the alien-looking Klinger, its skin morphing as it adapted to the air in the hanger. It was no surprise that the ground crew hadn’t gotten near it. Dresdon could clearly see that they were confused, wondering if it was an ant ship.
Jack was now busy yelling at the ground crew to get moving. She hadn’t noticed Dresdon until he cleared his throat. It took two tries, and Jack turned around angrily and yelled “WHAT?!” before she realized it was him.
A big smile crossed her face and she said, “Well it’s about time you came! Glad to see that everyone’s happy to see me.” She pointed to the ground crew, hangin
g back and reticent to do anything.
“I’ll get you down, just give me a second,” Dresdon said but before he could summon anyone the shift supervisor came running in, having heard that Jack had miraculously made it.
“Jack, is that you?” he yelled out to her as he beat his way through the ground crew.
“Spanner!” Jack yelled out as she jumped out of her seat and onto the bay floor.
They quickly gave each other a big hug while patting each other on the back.
“What’s going on here?” she asked. I’ve only been gone three weeks and everything’s gone to hell,” she said, looking at the patch job and quick fixes the repair crew on Nady did as they attached a new rear section to WF221. “Is this heap even space-worthy?”
Spanner laughed and said, “While you’ve been on vacation with your cute little white ass facing the sun, we’ve been smashing aliens and finding Earth.”
“I stand corrected, oh great one,” Jack said as she finally let go of Spanner. Scratch slowly climbed down too, standing awkwardly as he watched Jack and Spanner hug each other. “I’ll catch up with you later,” Jack said as she turned to grab Scratch’s arm, but he had slumped to the floor. Dresden had been staring at Scratch’s missing limb, but now he yelled, “Medics!”
“Sir, we’re exhausted. No food or water for days, except for the quick stop at Nady. And Scratch is severely injured.”
“Jack, we thought you were dead…” he said uncomfortably as he watched the medics surround them.
“I thought I was too, Sir,” she replied. “If it weren’t for Loosechange, we would have been. Still, I’m not and I have critical information to tell the Captain.”
“The Captain’s on the planet’s moon and out of contact. Commander Hollander is on board and calling the shots while we sort out a mess of sorts. Why don’t you join us on the bridge and brief us both in when you’re up to it?”
Jack was wondering about Dietrich but didn’t ask. They turned to leave as medics prepared to wheel a protesting Scratch to the ship hospital. He was insisting on staying with the group though, and the medics were getting flustered.
“What do you want me to do with this thing here?” Spanner said, pointing to the ship.
“It’s hungry. Feed it,” Jack replied with a smile. He wasn’t sure if she was joking or not. “And by the way,” she yelled back, “Don’t call it a ‘thing’. It can hear you and it will get mad. Its name is Mike.”
“What happened to the Klinger?” Dresdon asked as they walked, the ship security guards in tow.
Scratch looked back at the guards and said, “We’d like to tell you but it’s classified.” The medics were undecided as to whether they should tranquilize him or not.
Jack laughed. “Sorry, Sir, it’s the drugs talking. We had some friends work on it. They made a few improvements.”
“Yeah, Jack… Sorry about the guards,” Dresden added. “Commander Hollander and I are both very surprised you survived. I mean, we’re very happy you survived, it’s just that…”
“I understand, Sir,” Scratch said, feeling better now that he was sitting in the wheelchair. He had told the medics he had a cocktail of drugs in his system and that any added ones would put his life at risk. The wheelchair’s joystick was on the side of his amputated arm and he struggled to drive it with his left hand as he kept up with the conversation. Jack could tell he had a point to make over the guard thing, and let him have his say. “You just felt that it would be impossible for two mere humans to find a major alien base, infiltrate it, blow up the planet and escape, the whole time accumulating information that will eventually destroy our alien friends forever, right? Did I miss something sweetheart?” he added as he looked at Jack.
“You forgot the part about how we evaded the Trojan Horse our very own mother ship sent us and how we made it back just in time for the party, love.” Jack added.
“You’re right! Thank you!” Scratch said.
“You’re kidding, right?” Dresdon looked at them open mouthed, not completely sure how to respond to what he had just heard.
Jack looked him in the eye and said, “No, we’re not. What are the guards for again?”
“Well, we felt that the probability of your survival was nil. This meant that the communication didn’t really come from you but rather from someone or something else trying to lure us back.”
“I see,” Scratch said. “Someone who…sounded just like Jack. R-I-G-H-T. I get it. Honestly. And yet, here we are in the flesh. With the guards. I could see how you could confuse Jack as an alien, but do I look like one?”
Dresden knew they were right, but orders were orders. “It’s nice to have you guys back again,” he said as way of apology as he stopped Jack and hugged her. He turned, walked behind Scratch and took control of his wheelchair. “You, on the other hand, look like hell, and you have a checkup to complete. I promise you we won’t get started until you can join us.”
“I’ll go with him,” Jack said. “It’s the only way to keep him out of trouble.”
Dresden nodded and turned to the medics. “You have half an hour. Give them whatever they need to stay awake for the report, and they’ll return later for more intensive treatment.”
***
They entered the bridge, and Hollander immediately got up from the Captain’s chair and warmly greeted Jack and a now barely walking Scratch. He ignored the fact there were guards still trailing them.
“I’m so glad to see you both alive and well,” Hollander said with a genuine smile.
“Glad to be here Commander,” Scratch said.
“Are you feeling better?”
“I feel a little woozy, but the Medics did their job.”
“Very well then. The situation here is tense, so please join me in the conference room so we can fill each other in.” Hollander nodded to the guards and dismissed them, fairly certain that there was nothing out of the ordinary other then the fact they actually survived.
“Sir, can we have some food brought in? We stopped at Nady for emergency medical but we were only there an hour. We came here right after.”
“And there’s no way I was gonna eat hospital food,” Scratch clarified.
“Yeah. We’re famished.”
“A steak would be nice!”
Dresdon saw the frown on Hollander’s face but ordered the food anyway, still feeling guilty about the guards.
While they ate, they quickly laid out the events of the past three weeks, interrupting each other regularly when a point was missed. They finally finished their de-briefing, with Hollander and Dresdon sitting there in disbelief.
Jack pulled out a data-cube and Hollander popped it in the projector as officer Anderson walked in. Jack was surprised he was here. She had only met him once at the weekly Poker game and had refused to play poker with him again because he had no tells. Jack was exceptionally good, but he blew her away. He came in a mystery and left as one. The only thing she knew was that he was CIA.
Within moments, an edited, three dimensional view of the events recorded by her suit before it was destroyed was played for them, culminating with a view from the Klinger of the red planet receding from them at a quick pace. A small black hole opened up on the surface below followed by a quick collapse and an intense bright light as the area erupted in a huge explosion. The massive shockwave that rippled outward at supersonic speeds through the planet’s mantle impressed all at the table.
Hollander and Dresden were awed at the incredible power unleashed with the single explosion and watched the impossible happen again. Jack thought back to how twice in their recent history alien worlds were destroyed, once by a human weapon and once by the very weapon the aliens intended to destroy humans with. Anderson sat there impassive, watching both the display and Jack and Scratch.
Finally, Dresdon spoke, filling them in on the current problems - the situation with China Lunar and Pluto Deep Space Base.
She sat there pensive and quiet, her stomach full for the momen
t. “So, let me get this straight. An archaic computer persona that has been operating for over seven hundred years now has a drop team captive. And it tried to destroy this ship. And you’re not sure of the purpose other than that it seems fixated on Captain Bishop.
“You’re kidding right? Is this some kind of test? Because I assure you that both Scratch and I are feeling just fine. We got a clean bill of mental health from the Nady Orbiting Base doctors.” That wasn’t quite correct, but Jack wasn’t going to get into it now.
“No joke Jack,” Hollander said. We were just about to send over a Sorbik Type A but we’re worried…”
“Worried you might implode the entrance to the base with the explosion,” Scratch interrupted.
Hollander looked annoyed but agreed. “Yes. But it’s the lowest WF based weapon we have, and anything the attack ships carry is too weak to cause enough damage.”
Jack smiled and said, “Well, that may have been true two weeks ago, but not anymore.” Dresdon knew Jack well and asked, “What do you have up your sleeve? Is it something I’m going to like?”
“Everyone always likes what I have up my sleeves, Sir,” Jack flirted. Normally she wouldn’t speak like this in front of the Commander, but they had all just jumped a rank with the death of Captain Dietrich and the conversation was being held in private anyway. “Have you noticed my ship?” she added.
“You mean my ship,” Scratch said, and they laughed.
“You mean our ship,” Hollander stated. “Thank you for reminding me. What happened to it, and what did you mean when you said that you knew something that was important to all of humanity?”
Jack hadn’t wanted to get into that yet, so she said simply, “I’ll explain that part later, seeing as our Captain is on the planet’s moon and in need of help. But as to our ship, friendly aliens on that planet we destroyed modified it into what you see now. There is much more to this, but perhaps a demonstration of the ship’s surprising capabilities would be more appropriate. And Pluto Deep Space Base would be perfect.” Jack smiled again. “Speaking of which, these aliens are now aboard the Klinger, and they need tending to.”