by Chris Burton
This time it was Jake who responded.
“The orbit will decay relatively quickly—especially if they have a repeat of the atmospherics the moon was experiencing a few weeks ago. We have double checked all our figures. Our chances of success are much higher than fifty percent.”
“Jake. You have not even seen how the Patrol ship will cope in the heavy atmosphere. How can you possibly say that you have covered everything? I am sorry, but I am not going to allow this.”
There was silence as the three officers contemplated their next move. Wesley Smith decided it was time to force the issue.
“Bill…we cannot leave this ship in orbit and the best chance for our survival is to get this ship on the planet surface in one piece. We have come this far and we are not going to leave this now. I am afraid the operation will go ahead.”
“Is that an order?”
“Yes, Lieutenant Chadwick.”
“Okay, but I want it on record that I have not agreed to this. I want all the crew other than Jake on the surface and a chasing Jump Ship should be in situ to follow both ships down.”
“A sensible precaution. We will use two Jump Ships, one for each ship. Are you suggesting you are going to leave the ship in Jake’s charge?”
“Yes. I see no reason to put myself at risk. Jake you will assume complete control of this operation. Its success or failure will rest on your shoulders.”
* * * *
Timing was critical. The Patrol Ship was in total silence; all the crew, other than Jake, were on the moons surface. The Pantheon was ready with just ten people on board, including the ships commander Wesley Smith. Jake was ready to commence the descent.
“Jake. We are committed and ready. Take us down when you are ready.”
Jake clicked the comm.link twice in acknowledgement. He took a few moments longer to compose himself and then engaged the thrusters.
The Patrol ship moved slowly forward as the ion drive kicked in. Jake brought the velocity up to twenty-two hundred kilometers an hour and set his angle of descent to thirty-eight degrees. In forty-five seconds the joined ships would enter the moons atmosphere.
There was no going back now. If he pulled up, the Pantheon would be dragged down into the planet. He was committed. The Patrol ship hit the atmospheric belt moments later and both ships decelerated quickly. At first there was no change, the handling was smooth and Jake felt no pulling on the controls. He remained composed as the ships cleared the first atmospheric layer.
Then it all changed. The gravitational pull from the moons surface began to pull the Pantheon down. Her mass increased ten-fold in a matter of seconds and the Pantheon was in free fall with the Patrol ship still connected to it.
Jake did not panic. This had all been anticipated and he pulled up hard on the controls and increased the thruster’s ion drive ratios” to compensate. They were clear of the atmospheric belt and Jake managed to keep the descent angle and velocity to within the agreed parameters. It was going okay, so far.
The next step was to disengage. The virtual tow needed to be switched off, but the Pantheon needed to be ready.
* * * *
Jake gave the agreed signal and then released the secure field surrounding the docking clamps. The two ships separated with the umbilical cord providing brief resistance before snapping in two. The Patrol ship was plunging downwards forced into a steep decline by the change in the flight dynamics. The gravitational pull was very strong and Jake pushed down hard to wrestle control and prevent the patrol ship from spinning and plunging vertically into the planet surface below.
* * * *
The Pantheon meanwhile was in free fall. Her thrusters had engaged, but it was taking longer than anticipated for the ship to level out. The massive weight of the battle cruiser was plunging the Pantheon towards the surface.
“Pull us up. Pull us up.”
The moon’s surface was less than five kilometers away.
“If we carry on like this, the ship will break up. There is no strength. Adjust the thruster’s angle to ninety-eight degrees.”
Still there was no response. Wesley Smith looked at his chief engineer in despair. The chief nodded in acknowledgement and then shrugged. There was nothing now that he could do.
* * * *
The Pantheon was less than three thousand kilometers from the moon’s rocky surface. The guiding Jump Ship was trying to keep up. The pilot could now see what the problem was
“Pantheon. Part of the bulkhead has worked its way loose to port. You will need to compensate. Change your thruster’s angle down by ten percent.”
The Pantheon pilot responded without word from Wesley Smith. They had no time.
* * * *
Jake Carter was having his own problems. The angle of descent was still too steep and the ship swung violently as she started to spin. This was it. She was going down, unless he could correct. Then, as if a cloud had suddenly cleared revealing a bright blue sky; Jake realized he did not have to do anything. The patrol ship was echoing the favored maneuver of his now lost friend Steve Costello. The flat spin would force the ship to correct itself by sheer momentum. It was a gamble, but he had no option. He allowed the spin to continue. Gradually, it was working the spiral turning slowly into a more predictable flatter spin. She was straightening up now and Jake seized control of the Patrol ship. He was just two thousand meters from the moon’s surface. He breathed a sigh of relief as he allowed the ship to assume control.
Where is the Pantheon?
The answer was alarming. She was right on top of him, out of control and falling to the surface with the Patrol ship underneath.
Jake took evasive action and engaged his ion drive to shunt the patrol ship clear of the Pantheon. He was safe, but the Pantheon continued her plunge towards the planet surface. All he could do was watch.
Then suddenly, she regained control. The thrusters gave her momentum horizontally and the steep decline started to improve. She was still going down fast; but the pilot could now hold her off and prevent her from crashing. With less than five hundred meters to the moon’s surface, the pilot finally had control.
All Jake could do was stare in disbelief. Both ships averted disaster, but mostly because of the skills of their respective pilots. He would put this one down to experience.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Gathering the Thousand
This task would never be easy. The job to gather together one thousand Kryl and deliver them to a secret location in the Amazon rain forest and the man appointed to achieve this seemingly impossible task was Colonel Peter Runford.
Runford was a former intelligence operative who was now on Alpha’s payroll. If you wanted someone found or you needed something doing discretely, then he was the man. This task had been requested directly from the top. Admiral Koenig himself had briefed him and he left Alpha’s huge underground bunker in confident mood. That confidence began to ebb as soon as he reached the surface, when it dawned on him that you could not just waltz in and grab the nearest Kryl. Not that there was ever any suggestion he would not achieve this task. He just had to find a way of doing it; quickly and discreetly.
* * * *
The first two hundred were the easiest. He had hi-jacked a Kryl civilian shuttle and delivered the whole group directly to the testing facility. The shuttle itself had met a very untimely end as he brought it down in three hundred meters of thick Amazonian swamp—never to be seen again.
Since then, he and his team had collected over six hundred and fifty others and today, another eighty-five would arrive at the facility from various locations around the world. Runford used a network of operative’s across the planet to achieve his aims and up to this point this strategy had been successful. Just sixty-five more required but less than twenty-four hours to get them.
His latest pl
an was simple enough. If it worked, he could collect the remaining Kryl in one go. If it went wrong, there was the potential for a disaster. He was attempting to liberate the Kryl from the ECG headquarters itself.
Every hour a shuttle arrived at the rear of the government complex, the Kryl passengers disembarked and five minutes later full of passengers, the shuttle departed bound for the Kryl fleet. Up to one hundred Kryl were transported each time. What made this particular service unusual was that the shuttles used were ECG government Eagle shuttles and not the Kryl variant used in most other Kryl transportation and Peter Runford just happened to be a rather adept shuttle pilot. All he had to do was supplant himself in the cockpit and assume command. He would then deliver the Kryl directly to the testing facility and that was it. Job done. The problem was he had no way of knowing who he was collecting. If there were Kryl of a more advance caste on board, then he was in trouble.
At fourteen hundred hours precisely, the Eagle shuttle landed and a relatively small number of Kryl exited the ship via the sloped gangway which now protruded from the belly of the Eagle. Runford was waiting. As the last Kryl left the shuttle he hid beneath the gangway and to ensure the Kryl and the rear sensors did not pick him out. He waited until the last Kryl had entered the government building before he moved on to the gangway and into the passenger section of the ship. It was empty as expected.
He made his way through the seating area to the cockpit door and pulled out his blaster. The door opened and Runford entered.
“What are you doing in here? This cockpit is out of bounds. You are not even a Kryl.”
Runford moved closer and pushed the blaster into the human pilots back. “Relax my friend. I am taking this shuttle, with a full compliment of Kryl onboard. You should leave now. Just walk away from the ship and take the day off. I have colleagues watching you and if you try to report this, then the next time you see a blaster could be you last.”
The pilot was up and out of his seat quickly and exited the cockpit in a flash. Now all he had to do was wait for his passengers. He was enjoying this. Somehow the collection of Kryl for testing was a small but pertinent retribution for the millions of humans who the Kryl had taken. He hoped they would all die painfully.
The passengers started to board a few moments later and within minutes the shuttle was over full, with a number of Kryl opting to stand for the short journey to the Kryl fleet. But they would not be going to the fleet, thought Runford as he closed the gangway. The ship’s passenger manifest calculated one hundred and twelve Kryl had boarded. Perfect, I can kill a few off for good measure once they are delivered.
The shuttle lifted off on schedule and Runford expertly brought the ship to an acceptable exit height to make the Kryl think he was seeking shield clearance. The ruse only lasted a few minutes.
* * * *
“Pilot, why have we not cleared the shields yet?”
An authoritative looking Kryl just entered the cockpit. This one would be the first to die , thought Runford.
“I very much doubt that human. I can rip your spine in half in a matter of seconds and you will be powerless to respond. Please concentrate on your job and get us to the fleet quickly, I have an important meeting and I don’t want to be late.”
The Kryl exited and Runford quickly realized this Kryl must have been a high caste. He had to think quickly. Hopefully the thickness of the cockpit door will prevent the Kryl from penetrating my mind further. Only the highest Kryl have that kind of power. He looked down at the controls. He needed to create a problem that would suggest the shuttle was in difficulty and that she needed to return to Earth. He could blow a fuel pipe! This was dangerous, but could be controlled. He needed to divert all the fuel from the main thrusters back along the main arterial fuel rods. Just shut down the drive mechanism at full throttle.
The effect was instantaneous as the drive mechanism ceased and the fuel was forced back along the fuel rods. The resultant explosion was more visually significant than dangerous and a problem had been created, which would prevent them from leaving the planet. Now he needed to communicate with his passengers, but first he secured the cockpit door, a protocol which should have been observed by the shuttle pilot anyway and then he opened the passenger comm.link.
“We have a technical problem and unfortunately, we have to return to the planet surface. I have requested a replacement shuttle and apologize for the inconvenience. I should have us back on the ground within thirty minutes.”
So far, so good. The higher caste Kryl had not been able to penetrate his mind further and he had the perfect excuse to bring them down, where he wanted them and not where they needed to be.
“Pilot. Open this door.”
A new comm.link opened from inside the passenger cabin.
“Sir. The situation is under control. Please return to your seat.”
“No! You will open this door now, or I will assume control.”
Shit! He must be able to link with the controls. He must be very high ranking.
“Okay. I will open the door in a few moments. I am in the middle of carrying out important safety checks, so please be patient with me. Runford realized he had no choice but to kill this Kryl.
He took out his blaster and set the mechanism to the highest power rating. Then he pulled the safety device to “on” and clicked the firing mechanism. This would force the blaster to overload. He placed the weapon on the floor next to the door and pulled himself down so that his whole body was protected from the blast. Now all he had to do was open the door at the right time and the blaster would explode in the Kryl’s face.
This was dangerous and he had no idea what impact the explosion would have on the rest of the cockpit; but what choice did he have? He waited a few seconds longer as the blaster started to emit a high pitched tone. Then he opened the door.
The explosion was perfectly timed and the Kryl fell to the floor. The cockpit door closing immediately behind him; a security precaution to prevent the spread of fire. But there was no fire and little damage to the cockpit. The Kryl was dead.
The ship entered alert status and Runford quickly shut down the emergency systems to ensure the other Kryl passengers were not alerted. He returned to his seat and established the shuttle’s bearings. Perfect, we can start our descent now. Within ten minutes we will be on the ground.
The remainder of the journey was uneventful. Runford advised his passengers via the comm.link that a small fire had broken out in the cockpit, but he with the assistance of his new Kryl copilot had brought this under control and that shortly they would be landing”; albeit in a remote location. He also alerted the Alpha security forces on the ground to make ready for a further one hundred and eleven Kryl.
* * * *
The landing itself was difficult. There had been damage to the fuselage when the fuel pod had ignited, but Runford was an experienced pilot and the shuttle was safe and secure on the ground. The Kryl passengers were led to what they believed was a shuttle terminus. Runford’s job was done. He delivered in excess of the one thousand Kryl required, within the time constraints. He could now move on to his next mission.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Safrec
“What do you mean, you cannot find him. Did he not board a shuttle destined for the fleet?”
“Yes, my Kronan. The shuttle was experiencing some problems and was unable to clear the shields. We have heard nothing since.”
“Did the shuttle not land? Is she still in the air?”
“We don’t know as yet?”
“Then find out!”
This was not a good day. His meeting with Tulan, the commercial attaché to the ECG was important. He needed to know where he was and for that matter where the other nine hundred Kryl were, who had disappeared over the last week. There was a pattern here and if Alpha was involved, then heads would roll.
&
nbsp; For now, he had more important matters to attend to. He had an audience with Trieste and he was ready to force the issue of their relationship. He was the “chosen one” and it was time they cemented their relationship. He entered the Queen’s sanctuary and walked purposefully towards the throne.
“You are late, Safrec. I trust there is a good reason?”
“Issues of State, my Queen. You look radiant today.”
“I look the same as I always look, my Kronan. Please refrain from polite conversation. This is a formal meeting.”
“Of course it is, my Queen. There is the matter of our relationship. It is time we formalized it.”
“Ah, the reason for the insincere compliments. Safrec, you are the Kronan, but you are not my “chosen one”.”
Safrec was concerned but tried not to let it show.
“Surely that is mine by right. As your Kronan, I am also your “chosen one”. You have gone too long without a partner, Trieste.”
“You must understand, Safrec; there is no divine right to become my “chosen one”. If I choose you, then you will know. Let us move on to more formal matters. Do you have any news on the missing drones?”
“If I may, Trieste—I would like to discuss our relationship a little further. There are two aspects, you have failed to consider. The first is I am told, I am a great lover. The second is the historical obligation of the Queen to choose a Kronan as her mate…I am ready now. My governor obligations are reducing as the Earth relationship develops.”
“Your modesty will be your undoing, Safrec. Let me be quite clear. Only I have the right to pick and choose my chosen one and there is no obligation on me whatsoever, historical precedence or otherwise. You will never be my chosen one”
The Queen stepped forward as if to demonstrate this was her domain and she was in charge. Safrec could tell he had ruffled her feathers and elected to soften the tone.
“Trieste…in time, I am sure you will appreciate me. I can be patient. Let me return to your original question. There are now over nine hundred missing Kryl. Their numbers include our Commercial Attached, Tulan. We are still carrying out an investigation to find out what or who is responsible. It is likely Alpha will be involved.”