by Jack Colrain
“No, but then they haven’t spent the past few decades studying your people’s transmissions and tailoring their communications to put you at ease. Anyway, the important thing is that humanity has demonstrated an amazing ability to adapt and use Mozari technology in really quite innovative ways, all to accomplish a nearly impossible mission.” They stared at her. “Congratulations!” she said cheerfully.
“I don’t think any of us feel either cheery or much like celebrating.”
“Suit yourselves.” She turned to meet Daniel’s eyes. “What are your orders?”
“What?” Daniel didn’t understand. He wasn’t sure he was capable of understanding anything more, in fact.
“This is my ship. My and its systems assign the chain of command, and, well, TL;DR, they have adapted to accept Lieutenant West’s orders. I guess you could always tell him what you want him to say; I’m not quite sure how that would work for me, but that would be up to him.”
This was nothing like Daniel had expected, and he wasn’t quite sure how to react to it. Fortunately, everyone else seemed equally bemused, so nobody else jumped in with any interruptions. “They’re gone now?” Daniel needed to hear it again, to have another attempt at trying to believe and understand it.
“Yes. I’ve also countered their transport system locally. Their nearest Gateway is now over two light years away.”
“Gateway?” Palmer echoed.
“It’s a long story. Actually, just assume that about most things, and we’ll get along fine.”
“How did they get to Earth so quickly now?” Daniel wanted to know. If they’d done it once, they could do it again, and the future was always a threat.
“Through a Gateway in your moon’s orbital path, but at the opposite side of the orbit. That enabled them to drop straight into the planetary atmosphere. They won’t be able to reinforce themselves through that Gateway now, so you’re safe, for a while. Would you like to contact NORAD and let them know assistance will be forthcoming now?”
“Sure!” To see a human face and hear from his own people that the danger was over would make a helluva difference, Daniel thought. He couldn’t trust the Mozari AI, after all, but someone would be able to supply the truth. And the truth as always better than the worry.
A familiar face appeared on the screen, looking surprised. “Lieutenant West?” General Carver asked.
He could have cried at the sight of her, and he might well have done so if they’d been meeting face to face. “General, our mission has been successful,” he said, being extra formal to keep his voice steady.
“You are in control of the Mozari ship?”
Daniel coughed slightly. “Ish. It’s a little confusing up here, but... uh, yes. Help is on the way. The attack is over.”
Epilogue
Daniel West waved a hand in front of one of the defense drones. It didn’t react. “Would you like it to do something for you?” the AI asked.
“I don’t think so. Just... Keep out of the way, maybe.” Immediately, the drone whispered slightly and retreated into a shadowy corner, where it vanished. Whether it had blended with the shadows, gone through a hatch, or merged into the structure of the wall or ceiling, Daniel couldn’t tell and didn’t care. “We need to report back to Earth,” he said, more for the benefit of the Hardcases than for the AI, though it seemed to be content with the idea anyway.
“Eighteen hours in the Avenger—”
“Would you prefer another vehicle?” the AI asked, before Horowitz could respond.
“This one’s a bit too big to land.”
“True, but I can make you a great deal on a better ride. Faster, more comfortable, better overall. I can simply move this ship back to a lower orbit so you can cruise down. You can borrow a shuttle, now that we’re friends.”
Daniel nodded. “Let’s see it.”
The craft being lowered from somewhere—either storage or manufacturing, Daniel supposed—in the Mozari hangar deck was nothing like any Earth-built spacecraft. For one thing, it wasn’t painted in reflective white. It wasn’t covered in heat-resistant tiles, either. It was a dull, pewter-colored teardrop, almost like something out of the old 1930s sci-fi episodes from Flash Gordon or Buck Rogers. Slightly discolored patches on the rear half of the fuselage—or hull, since Daniel wasn’t sure quite which term fit best—showed where fins and stabilizers could be constructed and then deconstructed by nanites as needed. It was a little smaller than a NASA-type space shuttle, too, since it didn’t seem to need chemical fuel, and the life support systems were clearly much more advanced and compact than anything built by humans.
“That’s our ride home?” Evans commented doubtfully.
“I guess so,” Daniel hesitated. Now, he had yet another reason to wish Hope was here; she was a fighter pilot, so she would have loved to try this vehicle out. More importantly, she was familiar with Mozari technology in a way that Horowitz wasn’t.
As if reading his thoughts, Kinsella piped up, “Well, I don’t know about anyone else, but my alien spaceship flying certification is still in the mail, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” Daniel said, “that could be a little proble—”
“Oh, is that all that’s bothering you?” the AI’s voice asked in his ear. “All right, all right. I can pilot the ship safely to wherever you want to go.” She flickered slightly. “It’ll be nice to get out of the house for once, if you know what I mean. I swear I was getting stir-crazy waiting to have someone to talk to. Or maybe that’s just how your culture would describe it; I’ve spent several years studying it quite intensively.”
A portal opened up in the nose of the shuttle, revealing comfortable seats. They boarded cautiously, and found that when they sat, the surface of the seat would bond with their Exo-suits even through equipment harnesses and clothing. Not to the extent of making anyone feel tied down, but just secure against turbulence.
The AI stepped aboard and made a gesture which caused them to feel a slight lurch, and then another which turned the forwards end of the cabin translucent, so that they could see a portal open ahead and the blackness of space enveloping them. The Earth was off to starboard, the size of a small pumpkin.
Daniel tried to settle in and appreciate the sight of the beautiful planet gradually growing larger, but he couldn’t. Aside from tiredness and aches from the recent combat, his gut and shoulders, and everything in between, was tense with the silence from Hope. Most of the squad took the chance to catch a quick doze rather than talk, but Daniel couldn’t even do that. Hope Ying filled his thoughts to the exclusion of all else, and for now it was with a source of worry, not reassurance.
Daniel had at least let his heartrate settle once he was in his seat, and he told himself to calm down. They had all learned exercises about maintaining focus under stressful situations, but that didn’t help him feel Hope’s presence. He told himself that maybe it was because of the distance that had separated them, and that maybe the nanites had a maximum communications range, or that maybe their energy source had worn down in combat and needed to be recharged or rebooted, but he found that trying to justify the reasons for her absence from his mind only highlighted the fact of her absence.
‘Hope?’ There was still no reply, even though they were now approaching Earth. Maybe it was because they were in a Mozari ship and something was dampening their connection, or maybe the AI was keeping her out of the loop… or maybe any of a dozen other things were responsible. There was only one that he could think of that he really, really wanted to not be the case.
After about three and a half hours, the Earth had filled the available view, and Daniel realized that they were close enough to start their descent from what was now a low orbit. Evans was already speaking—not to him, but to someone on the ground. “…Repeat, this is Exo-Team One on descent in Mozari vessel. Transmitting recognition codes...”
Daniel could only feel glad that she was on the case; it would have been horribly ironic to be shot down on their way ba
ck from a successful mission to defend their world. This time, Daniel and the rest of the Hardcases couldn’t help but take the time to admire the beauty and fragility of Earth from space. Swirling gray and white clouds sheathed the deep blue of the oceans as well as the vibrant greens and reassuringly solid browns of the land masses.
As the shuttle descended towards the Eastern Seaboard of the US, however, the clouds changed, becoming darker and more ashen, and filled with darkness that was smeared—that was the only word Daniel could think of that fit—like mud across hundreds of miles of sky. Flying through it was more like flying through smoke and volcanic ash than through cloud, and, though he was sure it was just his imagination, Daniel couldn’t help thinking that the air inside the shuttle was becoming more oppressive and heavy, gripping them in some invisible wrapping.
Then, just as he was beginning to feel like a mummy in a tomb, they were through the expanse of darkness and into clearer air.
“Bugger me,” Collins said, the first to voice what they all felt as the surface became visible. Much of what Daniel figured was New York State lay below them, though it looked more like the surface of the moon. Craters were everywhere, interspersed with the hollow shells of bombed-out buildings and toppled skyscrapers. It looked familiar in a way Daniel had never anticipated.
“It looks like Dresden after the firebombing,” Hulsmann said behind him. “Or maybe Hiroshima after the bomb. Something like that from World War Two, anyway.”
“Yeah,” Daniel said slowly, but he knew he was only saying that to signify a common understanding. It reminded him of something he had seen far more recently, in the Mozari Library, when he had asked the Librarian if it knew anything about the Gresians. Compared to the pyroclastic lava flows on those worlds, however, these were merely scratches on the surface of the Earth. He knew he should feel grateful for that, but right now he was incapable.
“Sit-Rep, L-T,” Evans said in his ear. “We’ve been ordered to land at Reagan National Airport in DC.”
“Can you do that?” he asked the AI.
“I won’t take that personally.”
“Is there anything you can’t do?”
The AI shrugged. “Probably? It’ll be interesting to find out.”
“I guess omnipotence would get boring after a while.”
“Familiarity breeds contempt; I’ve heard that saying.”
“Did the Mozari have that saying? Or equivalent?”
“Not particularly. Just you guys,” the AI said smugly. And then she laughed, with familiar and yet unsettling sounds, and Daniel had no idea why he felt either of those reactions.
The Mozari shuttle settled into a gentle glide path, though they all knew it was powered in some fashion, and turned northeast. Ronald Reagan National Airport sprawled along the west bank of the Potomac, which was thickly covered in smoke and fog.
The distinctive, multiple-scooped white roof of the main terminal was half-collapsed, with pieces of coral-like substance scattered across the smoldering remains, while the runways were pitted and cratered. Fortunately, the Mozari shuttle didn’t need a runway, as it was able to hover and land vertically. It settled onto a rubble-strewn patch of tarmac, but, unlike a regular Osprey or helo, didn’t lurch or settle afterwards; it was simply there. Daniel suspected it had adapted its shape to any obstacles below—a guess that he saw proven correct when he deplaned.
A couple of Air Force Humvees and ambulances sped over to their landing site as the Hardcases emerged, helping Horowitz out. Daniel looked back at the AI. “Will you be returning to your ship, or waiting here?”
“I’m still there; I’m just projecting, remember? Hang on to the shuttle, though; you can’t beam up to me.” With that, she simply wasn’t there anymore. He walked away, a little stunned, but still thinking about Hope. An Air Force Captain drew him aside, towards a Humvee. “I hate to get between you and your men, or a shower or chow, Lieutenant, but I have orders to drive you to the White House for debriefing.”
Daniel stared, trying to find the words or energy to refuse. This was the last thing he needed. His brain had turned entirely to fuzz and static, however, so instead of walking away, he found himself being helped into the back of the Humvee. Daniel sat back in the seat, his adrenaline levels finally subsiding, leaving him feeling a little shaky. He wondered if Hope would understand that, but knew deep down she would, if she was alive and well.
‘Please tell me you’re alive,’ he thought out, through the nanites in his blood. ‘Please tell me you’re alive.’
He couldn’t even think of what he was going to say at the Presidential briefing, or how much he would take in if he was simply expected to listen. Hope Ying was more important to him than the President of the United States, and her being a member of the Chinese military, while probably the sort of thing that could be too easily misinterpreted by press officers, didn’t concern him one bit.
Only her wellbeing concerned him, so he kept thinking to her as the Humvee rumbled along, trying to reactivate the connection they had.
‘Please be alive; you have to be alive,’ he thought as the vehicle started to slow as it neared its destination.
‘Don’t tell me what I have to be,’ a weak thought came back, and he almost yelled and punched the air. As it was, he clenched one fist and held it firm against the seat to stop himself from doing anything so stupid. ‘I feel dead,’ she went on, and now he could share her feeling, and it wasn’t far wrong. Her exhaustion added to his and almost knocked him cold. ‘I think they nuked us.’
‘It might as well have been,’ he told her. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘I... No, not like that. But I’ve gone so far past my limitations...’
‘We all have, but I bet you did great. And now those Gresian things are gone.’
‘Yeah. We won, for now.’
Won, Daniel thought. Was this winning? Cities smashed, thousands more dead and homeless? That didn’t sound much like his idea of winning. The thought touched something in his memory—someone else having said something similar to him. It came to him after a short while, as he remembered the postal worker who had brought his draft lottery forms.
Daniel didn’t remember the guy’s name, but he remembered that he’d been a Vietnam veteran, and that he had said something similar. “Nobody wins a war,” he murmured to himself.
“Lieutenant?” the driver asked.
“Sorry, I was just thinking aloud. I was talking to a Vietnam vet, months ago, and he said something about… Never mind. Thinking.”
“OK.”
‘I don’t think we did win, really. We didn’t win anything, and they didn’t win. Nobody won today.’
‘We’re lucky we ended it, at least. That’s what we did.’
Daniel didn’t even think that much was true. ‘We didn’t end it. We stopped one act.’
He felt Hope sigh. ‘They’re going to come back.’
‘Yes, they are.’
The Humvee finally pulled in at the White House gates, and a guard looked in to check both Daniel’s and the driver’s IDs. Daniel could see soldiers milling around, but that wasn’t the strangest thing. Neither was the scar cut across the West Wing’s facade. The strangest thing was a hunk of coral-like spider-leg lying across the fence and partway across the road. Several soldiers were setting up floodlights and a generator next to it, around a hole that had been cut or blown through it.
‘It’s not over, but next time, we’ll be more ready. And next time, we’ll start ending them.’ And now he could feel Hope’s relaxation. She believed him, and he’d reassured her. Most importantly, though, she was alive and willing to keep fighting, just as he was. That was all that mattered.
End of Mozari Arrival
Hammond’s Hardcases Book One
Mozari Arrival, 29 May 2019
Trojan Colony, 26 June 2019
Gateway War, 31 July 2019
PS: Do you enjoy reading military sci-fi? Then keep reading for exclusive extracts from Trojan Colony an
d Dead Line.
About Jack Colrain
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ABOUT JACK
Jack Colrain never intended to be a writer. But retiring after 30 years living, fighting and surviving in some of the grimmest regions in the world, he found himself with some stories to tell and lessons to impart.
What he’s picked up over the years can’t be found in any survivalist classes or the latest prepper books—they’re hard earned from surviving in the harshest conditions and can be found only in his books. He doesn’t live in a cabin in the woods (yet) but in the wilds of another kind: downtown LA, with his wife and two kids. They don’t always understand his prepping, but when SHTF Jack knows he’ll be able to keep them safe. They’ll thank him later.
Jack now spends his free time writing books about characters who get into certifiably FUBAR situations, whether they're survivalist scenarios or more military science fiction related, and then he tries to get them out of it using the skills he’s learned. He hopes that by reading his books readers will absorb some survival skills and a few more people will make it out okay when it’s TEOTWAWKI.
New to the industry, Jack would love to hear from readers:
BLURB
The ends justify the means—except when humanity’s survival is on the line.
The technology the Mozari left behind has advanced scientific understanding at breakneck speeds. Space-worthy vessels and all-new weaponry are pumped out of orbiting factories, to be used by the brightest minds to begin colonizing new planets.