by Terri Lane
“There was no recent access down here. Which means one of the pilots slowed the ship from the hub,” he said.
“None of them have orders to do that, right?” I asked.
“Right…which means there may be a traitor on the damned ship,” he growled. He logged out of the computer, then I hurried to keep up with him on the way back to the elevator.
“The Corsovians are…slippery,” I commented.
“Indeed. I cannot wait to defeat them,” he stated.
“Will you go on the offensive once we reach Earth?” I asked.
“If the Nations United is behind it, remember, we only have a portion of Bagar-1’s space fleet,” he mused. We rode the elevator up to the pilot’s bay and walked into a room thrown into chaos. For one, the backdrop of space showed a mess of brown and grey asteroids all around us. On top of that, everyone was speaking loudly. There were a few pilots arguing, and the rest of the crew was communicating to each other in loud voices, trying to be heard over the arguing. Knor was at the control desk himself, a look of determination on his face, while two dutiful pilots helped him both maneuver the great ship and coordinate with the rest of the crew still doing their jobs.
“Enough.” Waylen’s voice was like a whip. He stopped the arguing right away and briefly, everyone’s gazes turned to him. Those working to keep the ship safe and nimbly maneuvering through the asteroids quickly recovered and went back to their duties. The three arguing pilots kept their eyes on Waylen, all were wary. I tried to detect which might be a Corsovian, but they all had deep purple tints to their skin, two had pale eyes like many Bagarians, apart from one who’s eyes were like charcoal.
“Why did the ship slow from warp?” he asked them.
“There was an alert of insufficient fuel. We simply slowed the ship to comply with directive. Which mandates all non-life-sustaining operations be stopped to properly assess fuel usage and make any necessary diagnostics and repairs. Only, when we slowed the ship we emerged in a migrating band of asteroids,” the pilot with the charcoal eyes explained. His name tag read Fitz.
“Do the two of you corroborate this?” Waylen asked the other pilots.
“Yes, but High General, we saw the band on our radar before slowing from warp. Fitz was the pilot at command, he had the ultimate say of whether we stopped in this, or continued one more legion into clear space,” the second pilot replied, his name was Fraer. Waylen’s pissed gaze turned to Fitz, who simply looked down, nothing to say for himself.
“If this is a trap and Corsovian ships emerge from behind one of these rocks, consider yourself stupid and a galactic criminal against both Earth and Bagar-1. If we reach Earth unscathed, consider yourself plain stupid and relieved from your station,” Waylen said in a cutting tone, speaking Bagarian as he did when upset. “You’ll be detained until either outcome,” he added. The two pilots flanking Fitz, took him by the arms and led him out of the piloting hub.
“Someone, tell me how the fuel is looking?” Waylen spoke to the room.
“They’re reporting back at optimum levels for reaching Earth, sir,” one of the monitors at the control desk answered.
“Just as I thought,” Waylen mumbled.
“Weapons and radar are already on alert. They’ve discovered nothing hidden here so far,” Knor revealed.
I breathed a premature sigh of relief, because five seconds later one of the monitors shouted, “We’re picking up seven small fighter ships coming our way fast at our south-east side.”
“Go sit and strap in,” Waylen ordered me, switching back to English. I was quick to do it. Everyone strapped in, Waylen took one of the other empty seats next to me and let Knor handle the situation. He was commander of the ship after all. Knor barked orders for the pilots in control of the blasters to shoot the Corsovians before they got clear aim at us. He and the three pilots in control of the ship, worked like hell to get us through the band of rocks and into clear space. I could see on the projected radar, that seven red dots were still closing in on us. A flash of red bolted from our ship, aimed at an asteroid, and blew it up just in time to eject debris at one of the closest Corsovian ships in view. Which blew it up consequently.
The others redoubled around the explosion, still coming for us. The ship suddenly ducked behind a huge rock and I felt the silent blow as the asteroid was shot and exploded around our ship. I felt the unsteady shake, but the ship recovered quickly and Knor kept weaving us through the band. We traded shots with the other ships, but everyone involved in the fight were expert pilots and we couldn’t get any more casualties. The Corsovian’s left us relatively unscathed by the time we cleared the band and punched into warp speed.
“Are we in the clear?” I asked.
“It is hard to tell. Were we able to get pictures of their hulls?” Knor asked.
“Yes sir, those ships were hunters, meant for maneuvering through asteroid belts. They have no warp capabilities,” one of the pilots reported.
“Which means this was premeditated and they had their information about our course beforehand. That pilot, Fitz,” Waylen growled. He quickly got out of his seat and hurried towards the elevator, seemingly to deal with Fitz. I didn’t follow him. My heart was still racing, I needed a second to calm down.
“Good work everyone. You’ve earned your honor here,” Knor commended. The room broke out in brief applause and various exclamations of relief. Knor approached me slowly, as if I were a scared bird.
“You did great,” I said in a faint voice. He smiled, then lowered onto one knee in front of me. I winced, looking at his bloodied face and the gash in his eyebrow. He’d need stitches. “You need to go to the medic,” I said.
“This is nothing. Once, when we were very young, Waylen and I got into a fight over our grandfather’s prized erquos. It was a family pet, very similar to a racing horse—only, it is completely hairless and its skin is usually purple, sometimes pink—that belonged to no one in particular after our grandfather passed. But we both wanted to bond with it, make him our own. After that fight, we emerged covered in blood, dung, and straw. So, this…can be much worse,” he said, chuckling, his expression almost fond. I stared at him incredulously.
“I don’t want you fighting over me,” I said.
“Yes, but it is what we do. I suppose some men never grow completely out of their boyish behaviors,” he sighed. I took a deep breath and unbuckled myself from the chair.
“Let’s go get you stitched up.” I took his hand, not caring who saw, and led him out of the piloting hub.
***
We reached Earth, New York City to be exact, safely. It was midnight when we landed and all manner of suited security greeted us at the spaceport, thankfully it was a private landing. It felt good to be home, even though we were about to set foot into our first inter-galactic war.
“Representative Horowitz, it’s good to have you back.” My old friend and head of my personal security, Rob, was waiting for me in front of his Mercedes SUV. Rob and my other four guards were assigned to me way back when I applied to be a military correspondent on the Nations United council. Mostly they had my back and escorted me around, but they’ve been with me four years so far.
“Rob, it’s good to be back!” I said and hugged him briefly. Neiman, one of the other guards, gave me a brief hello as he bent to grab my bags for me.
“You wouldn’t believe the changes around here Miss,” Rob said. For as long as we’ve known each other, he refused to call me by my first name. Over time I learned to accept being called ‘Miss.’
“What do you mean?” I asked. All around me the Bagarians who I flew in with were being greeted by security and escorted off the blacktop, no doubt heading to any of the nearby hotels. I glanced around, looking for either Waylen or Knor. I hadn’t been with them as we landed.
“Curfews have been put into effect planet wide. Everyone’s on high alert and told to take emergency precautions. Everywhere is like a ghost town,” Rob explained.
“Shit…” I breathed.
“Do you guys know where most of the Bagarians are being taken?” I asked Rob once he got into the driver’s seat.
“There were a few officials on that ship so the High General and other high ranking strategists are going to be in the same hotel you’re staying in,” he revealed.
“Oh, all right then,” I answered. I needed to call Knor to figure out where he’d be. I figured the Jersey-York Military Base was my best bet, since he took assignment there. I turned on my cell and a torrent of e-mails, texts, and voicemails came pouring in. I took a deep breath, then dug into them until we reached the hotel. Honestly, I was in the city often enough that I needed to make the plunge and settle for a ridiculously expensive apartment already.
As I got out of the Mercedes, I noted how barren the sidewalks and streets were.
“This is New York,” I said, my tone a touch horrified. It was scary, the realization that the Corsovian’s were coming and the entire planet was at danger hit me hard.
“Yeah, it shocked me too,” Rob said. I glanced up at all the surrounding buildings. The city was still lit up, but without the soul of it…the bustling flow of people, it just wasn’t the same. Rob escorted me into the hotel and I felt an initial shock, the chic lobby was busy. Bagarians were all around, mingling with humans as they waited to be let up to their rooms, no doubt.
“Aliya.” Waylen’s voice brought my head around to the left. He was leaning against a huge chrome plated column.
“I’ll take these up,” Mace said, talking about my bags. Rob and Neiman hung back while I stepped over to Waylen.
“You don’t live in this city?” he asked.
“No, I live in Maryland, remember?”
“With your father?” he was very confused about that thought and I laughed.
“No, I have my own place there. But I am here often enough that I’ll be looking for an apartment should we survive the invasion,” I told him. Waylen grinned.
“Oh, we’re surviving,” he assured me.
“You seem excited,” I observed.
“I am. The Corsovians have been asking for a brutal defeat and that’s what they’ll get,” he stated. I smirked, his confidence was oddly reassuring.
“So, are you waiting for a room…or?” I asked.
“My room is ready, I came back down to watch that,” he pointed to the gleaming quartz front desk, behind it was a huge flat screen TV displaying the global news station. I glanced around and realized the people hanging around weren’t waiting for rooms. They were watching the big screen. The broadcast was split, showing different military bases across the globe. Then on the other half was a live telescope feed of what looked like a sea of moving stars.
“They are twenty-four hours outside of the solar system, just dropped out of warp,” Waylen said. My phone rang then, it was Carlson.
As soon as I connected the call, she started talking, “I hope you aren’t in your pajamas, we need you and the Bagarian High General at the Jersey-York base,” she clipped, her tone efficient.
“We’ll be there in…fifteen,” I told her. The call went dead and Waylen quirked a brow at me, curious.
“We’re needed at the military base. We’ll probably be awake for the next couple of days,” I sighed.
“Lead the way,” he declared. I turned around and gestured to Rob.
“We have to get to the Jersey-York military base asap,” I told him. I addressed Waylen then, “Do you have security assigned to you?”
“Just a driver and one guard,” he said.
“I’ll pin ‘em down and let them know we have you,” Neiman said. Rob was on the phone with Trevor, having him bring the car back around. In two minutes, Waylen and I were in the backseat of the Mercedes and we were on the way to the base.
“Knor is stationed at this base we’re headed to, correct?” Waylen asked.
“Yes…I haven’t had a chance to talk to him since we landed,” I murmured. Waylen simply nodded his head. “Hey…Knor told me the story about your family erquos, did either of you get him?” I asked. Waylen chuckled and shook his head.
“It stayed on our grandfather’s property until old age. He sired plenty more for racing and farm work. I own one of his ‘geldings’ so to speak and Knor owns two of his female offspring,” Waylen revealed.
“Huh…” was my response. I didn’t know what to make of that, it didn’t help clarify my choice in the slightest. We reached the base in record time for driving through the city, of course with the streets empty we didn’t have to combat with traffic. We were waved through the security check, once Waylen and I gave our identification, and told to head to the Planetary Security Office. The office had its own building, really. Since the base was newly built, the building was all glass and dark metals. Very masculine. Inside was a reflection of the outside, though I didn’t have much time to take in the gleaming marble floors, high ceilings and thick metal columns. The building contained a controlled frenzy. People were hurrying back and forth and there was an eerie hush on the first floor. I imagined it would be a moderately busy military hub under normal circumstances.
In the buildup to our first intergalactic conflict, I could tell folks were more than nervous, but scared. Even with the hope of Bagar-1 sending formidable military aid.
“It’s as if this war has already been lost,” Waylen observed.
“Hopefully when we start winning, life will be injected into everyone,” I commented.
“Oh, Representative Horowitz, High General Waylen, you’re here!” A skinny looking intern, I guessed, came jogging up to us. Rob didn’t give anyone a break. He stopped the kid by clamping his hand on his shoulder. Rob studied his ID badge as the poor guy stared at him with wide eyes. I glanced at Waylen who was trying to hide a smirk.
“I appreciate your security detail,” he murmured. I stepped around Rob and waved him away.
“It’s all right Rob. Excuse him, he doesn’t trust anyone,” I told the kid. His badge identified him as Kenny and he was indeed an intern. “Kenny?” I said. He ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair and nodded.
“Yes, I just started interning for the Representative Council of Nations United. I was told to look out for you guys and bring you back to the situation room everyone’s gathered in,” he reported.
“Who’s everyone?” I asked.
“Much of the council and two of the space defense coordinators,” he answered.
“All right, lead the way,” I said and gestured for Kenny to guide us. We ended up on the fourth floor of the building, in a huge glassed in room that was full of people standing around a long conference table. Some were talking, gesturing at each other, others were watching one of the two huge screens at the head of the room. Both Waylen and I took a deep breath before we stepped inside.
The room was full of busy voices, but it wasn’t too loud. Kenny grabbed the attention of two men at the head of the table that had been gesturing back and forth between the two screens. One showed the telescope feed of the incoming Corsovian forces, the other had a map of Earth’s solar system and our outposts and bases amid space.
“That looks like your cue to coordinate,” I murmured.
“Indeed,” Waylen walked over to them, and I looked for Carlson, since she was the one that called me. I found her seated at the conference table, surrounded by four other council members.
“Horowitz, good, you made it,” she sighed. I greeted everyone and took a seat next to her.
“I’m guessing no one can sleep?” I asked.
“You guessed right. It’s nerve wracking watching them come at us,” she commented.
“Well, Waylen brought a strategizing army along with him and he’s more than confident we’ll fend off and put a dent in those Corsovians,” I assured her. “We’r
e just too…nervous it feels like. We need morale, we need to lift the spirits around here,” I told her. Carlson snorted in response. “I’m serious. Maybe I should head down to the news station and tell everyone to relax a little bit,” I offered.
“No, no. Because then you’ll have folks who will start to bypass security measures that were a pain in the ass to effectively implement,” she stated.
“Of course not, I’ll still emphasize the importance of sticking to the security measures, but simply let everyone know that it’s not hopeless,” I said.
Carlson debated it, then one of the other representatives piped in, “It’s a good idea. Our troops can certainly use an injection of morale. Having to follow alien direction in the lead up to possible planetary destruction isn’t exactly a confidence booster,” he said. Both Carlson and I looked at him in disbelief. “What? It’s what everyone’s thinking,” he mumbled.
“All right, fine then. Horowitz, after High General Waylen is done here, go down to the news station and speak to the people,” she said.
“Great,” I answered. Carlson called for Kenny to inform the nearest station and let them know we’d be coming in the next couple of hours. I sat back and watched as Waylen did his thing with the coordinators. It was clear that they gained more excitement as he explained whatever strategies would work to take out the Corsovians. About an hour later, when everyone surrounding him started shaking his hand vigorously, I guessed he was done. Waylen approached me, his expression hopeful.
“We have some statements to make at the news station, to the public,” I told him.
“The entire public of Earth?” he asked.
“Yep, come on,” I prompted. We got to the car, it’d be a long ride to the station even without the traffic.
“You gave those generals hope,” I noted. Waylen smiled, just barely, his gaze looking far off—into space.
“I hope so. Hopefully we can transfer that hope to the rest of the people and troops alike,” he murmured.
“We have to…or we’ve lost before we’ve thrown the first punch,” I scoffed.