by James Thomas
“Without any hesitation, Commodore,” Lieutenant Wun said confidently.
“Good, because this one is a doozy,” responded the Commodore.
***
The task force’s ships popped out of hyperspace, one after another, quickly filling up the area on the backside of the planet Huldra. With reports of half the Grax’s ships evacuated due to their star’s instability, it was unlikely that the Task Force Ninety-nine would run into any patrols. However, no plan ever survives first contact with the enemy, which had been proven in their last battle.
“Commodore Devlin, this is Captain Strata of the ISF Asteria,” said the voice over an unsecured COM. The transmission could be intercepted by the Grax, but was unlikely, as the Grax had a smaller footprint in the area.
“Captain Brock, verify the location of that transmission,” said Commodore Devlin. He had not expected the ISF to be in the area since their battle plans were still several solar days away. Commander Johnson had assured him of that, but he worked for an unpredictable admiral, who was coming unglued at the seams of his sanity.
“Trying to verify,” replied Captain Brock. He turned to his new shipmate, Vince Tout, who peered dumbfounded, pressing what looked like random buttons at the controls of the ancient ship. They barely knew how to fly the Tourian ship, let alone use ancient and unfamiliar sensors to find a cloaked vessel.
“Commodore Devlin, ISF Asteria,” said Captain Strata. “If you are trying to verify our location, I assure you I’m in position to destroy all your ships at my command. So it would be to your benefit to contact me over ISF secure coms. Before it’s too late.”
“Vince,” said Commodore Devlin bypassing Brock. “Do we have a fix?”
Vince, who had only briefly captained Scrapyard Ninety-nine for the Commodore before to its unwelcomed demise, was a very short man, aged twenty-eight cycles. He had very broad shoulders and had been a chief engineering officer, the rank of Lieutenant. Recently discharged from the ISF, he was still current as the day he had left.
At only a meter and a half in height, Vince was having a hard time seeing over the control console. He had been a brilliant ISF officer, but he felt the ISF was holding him back from his true ambitions. What made him indispensable to the mission was that he had previously led the ISF operational cloaking program, so he was the top expert of the technology
“No sir,” replied Vince. “If it is the ISF Asteria, it will be impossible to trace. I helped design that ship’s systems, but cannot do anything without the decloaking code. The ships use the code to link their locations and without it, we’re blind until they fire their weapons. And, I must add, very large weapons at that!”
Since all the other ships on his task force had only a Captain and a single crew member to help with the operations, the mission had grossly undermanned crews. They needed every transport, so it was worth the risk. The plan was to use the Tourians after the rescue to fill in the crew for general ship tasks, but they had to get to that point first.
Now, they had an unknown number of cloaked ISF warships blocking their path. The situation made Commodore Devlin’s stomach churn, especially knowing that his son was down on the planet, his fate unknown.
“Brock?” questioned Commodore Devlin.
“Nothing I can do,” he replied, defeated.
“Vince?” added Commodore Devlin.
Vince shook his head no.
Commodore Devlin turned to look over his task force, with its ships spread out and vulnerable to attack. The cloak gave the ISF an advantage that could cost him a third of his ships just entering the atmosphere of Huldra, and the rest upon departure when they would be grossly overloaded with Tourians.
“Scrapyard Forty-two,” radioed Commodore Devlin on secure coms.
“Yes, Commodore,” replied Sara.
“Have you reviewed your contingency order?” asked Commodore Devlin.
“Yes,” replied Sara.
“Prepare to execute,” ordered Commodore Devlin.
“Aye, aye, sir,” answer Sara. She and four other transports were the first wave to draw fire while the other ships started their rescue. It was a suicide mission and once the first wave failed, the next would take its place, resulting in the loss of needed transports.
“Be ready for when I talk to Captain Strata,” said Commodore Devlin. “Sara, even if the ISF Asteria is here by itself, you will have only a small chance. These vessels are too old and obviously under-manned to fight. I wish you luck!”
“Understood Commodore. I’m standing by,” responded Sara. But she had one trick up her sleeve. Her cargo bay was filled with ion crystals that she had chosen not to dump. Now, she planned to use them if the time came. Ion crystals were a sensor nightmare if spread out around a ship, but had the same effect in return. This would be a last resort.
“Commodore Devlin,” Captain Strata interrupted unknowingly. He had become impatient with the delay. “It seems we have a problem here.”
“How do I know you’re here?” replied Commodore Devlin. “You could be using a relay station for all I know.”
“True, but out of good faith,” said Captain Strata as the ISF Asteria uncloaked. The vessel was a Battle Cruiser armed with weapons that could shred his vessel without much effort.
“Now, Commodore Devlin, as I have accommodated your new rank and given you the respect associated with it, I’m not here to play games. Your reputation precedes you and there hasn’t been a finer officer in the ISF. But to be a traitor? I just can’t understand. So, because of your accomplishments I will afford you a few micro-cycle of time to explain your current actions.”
“Captain Strata, I appreciate the break. I’m sure you are aware of the Tourian slaves in the mines?”
“Yes, I have heard of the intel reports,” acknowledged Captain Strata.
“Well, I’m going to free them,” replied Commodore Devlin.
“I know your transports are empty, but I don’t intend to let you fill them with anything or anyone,” said Captain Strata. “Now, since I am already in violation of my order from Admiral Pearson, let’s get to the real reason.” Why are the Tourians of importance to you?”
“Captained Strata, you heard about the Book of Bulla?”
“Yes, continue,” answered the captain.
“Well, it’s true. The Black Medallion and Chief Bandor. The Tourians are also our ancestors,” said Commodore Devlin.
“Do you have proof, Commodore?”
“Yes. Their Boy God, Sadar Tourian, is alive. I took a sample of his DNA,” replied Commodore Devlin.
“Transmit!” said Captain Strata. “Without delay.”
“Yes, standby,” said Commodore Devlin giving Captain Brock the signal.
“Received. Do not move your vessel while I have my crew look the data over, understood?”
***
“Commodore, it’s been a while,” said Captain Brock. “The longer we wait, the more likely the Grax will discover us.”
ISF Asteria had recloaked while they were looking over the data. Task Force Ninety-nine had no idea if the ship had moved from its last position.
“Commodore Devlin,” said Captain Strata. He uncloaked the ship, which had not moved from its earlier position.
“Yes Captain. Have you verified the data?”
“Yes, but I have a problem here,” said Captain Strata. “Your DNA is proof enough, but why not go through the proper ISF channels with this evidence?”
“Because Admiral Pearson already knows all of this and is trying to hide it from the Bandor citizens,” responded Commodore Devlin.
Captain Strata was not surprised at this allegation. He already had seen proof of it with his own interaction with the admiral. However, his crew knew of their intended mission, and convincing them otherwise would take time.
“Commodore, you may proceed with your mission on one condition,” said Captain Strata.
“That is?” asked Commodore Devlin.
“That you surrender yo
ur task force to me upon your rescue and return from planet Huldra,” said Captain Strata.
Commodore Devlin knew he did not have a choice. He had planned to return the Tourians to their home planet, but that would be impossible with the ISF Asteria’s firepower. There just was not a way out. At least the Tourians would be safe.
“Yes, I agree to your terms,” answered Commodore Devlin.
“Very well—Commodore, you’re free to proceed with your endeavor,” said Captain Strata. “And Devlin, I respect what you’re trying to accomplish here, and I believe you’re still a fine officer. However, I also think you may have easily misplaced your honor . . . but through courageous actions, your character may still endure. It will be hard to accept your surrender, but under current circumstances, you understand!”
“Yes Captain, thanks for the assistance. Sometimes hard choices must be made on both sides,” said Commodore Devlin.
Devlin turned to his ship’s external viewscreen, proud to see his fleet before him. It was a ragtag group of vessels, but as the Captain Strata has said, he was their commodore. “Task Force Ninety-nine, execute Operation Liberation. It’s time to bring our people home.” That was a revitalizing order, one that could lead both Tourians and Bandorians down a uniting path. He put aside the impending surrender for the moment.
The task force moved quickly, with only a few ships left to begin their descent to the surface, including Scrapyard One.
“Commodore Devlin,” spoke Captain Strata. “There are multiple enemy contacts inbound to our position. Looks like the Grax are aware of us after all.”
“I see them,” replied Commodore Devlin.
But before Commodore Devlin could say more, Captain Strata added, “But don’t you worry about them. Just stick to our agreement and I’ll handle the situation. But don’t take a vacation when you’re on the surface. I’m sure they called the mother ship home by now.”
25
SACRIFICE
Robert’s tears distorted his vision as they partially froze in the extreme cold. He had given a Tourian family his winter suit as a small gesture of his empathy for their plight. Though, it was hardly any measurable relief for their overall misery from both the cold and the foregoing tribulations with the Grax. Still, even the least compassionate individual would have felt sympathy for the Tourians’ plight, and Robert was no exception.
From the cave’s tunnel came the Tourians’ cries of anguish and pain as they and their rescue team tried to keep warm. All were growing weaker by the moment, and now Robert had become intertwined with them, unable to fight off the cold as life slowly drained from his body.
Aazar came running up from the bottom of the tunnel, almost tripping on several groups of Tourians huddled together for warmth. “My Lord, we can hear digging from the other end of the cave-in. I believe the Grax are trying to reach us. What should we do?”
“Aazar,” Sadar replied, “We do nothing but wait and hope . . .,” Sadar paused, “. . . and Joe.”
“Yes . . . maybe Joe can . . . save us,” Robert struggled to speak as his breathing grew labored and shallow. Robert’s eyes closed. He was dying.
“Robert!” shouted Sadar, realizing that Robert was losing consciousness from the cold. “Aazar, hurry, use your body heat to help warm him.”
Sadar thought the situation was becoming hopeless. It had been a while since Joe left and Sadar could see no physical signs of his friend’s return. A number of bad things could have happened to Joe. It would only take one accidental step, or worse, a fall into a crevasse to knock the medallion off, leaving Joe alone and helpless in a blizzard. But Sadar had to trust in the Black Medallion, and Joe. There was no other way.
Robert again opened his eyes and, with his remaining strength pointed, “Look,” he uttered softly. Robert’s body went limp as he died.
Sadar turned in the direction of Robert’s gesture to see a dark outline of a figure entering the cave through the blowing snow. Sadar blinked hard once, then twice more, trying to better focus his eyes. But the dark figure doubled then doubled again before Sadar could make out that the dark figures were several people. “Joe . . . he’s alive!”
“What did you say, my Lord?” asked Aazar, but then he saw Joe appear from the snow, followed by a large group of people, carrying blankets and supplies.
“I’m happy to see you, Joe,” Sadar called out joyfully.
“The same my friend! Now, let’s get your people warmed and onto the ships as soon as possible,” prompted Joe, not wanting to lose any more time.
“You bet,” said Sadar. “And I’m still happy to see that you’re still breathing.”
“We have ISF and Grax welcoming parties to deal with when we get back into Space,” said Joe. “I’ll fill you in soon.”
Joe looked into Sadar’s eyes and touched the Black medallion. “Trust,” said Joe. “Now let’s get our people out of here.”
“Yes,” said Sadar. “Our people!”
“Robert,” started Joe with a smile on his face that quickly faded away once he saw the lifeless body.
“Joe, it’s too late for him,” said Sadar sadly.
“Joe,” said Augie internally. “I detect a deceased body near you. I believe it’s Robert.”
“Yes, I can see that, Augie. But thanks anyway,” said Joe. He looked downward at Robert lying on the ground, his skin pale and devoid of life. “Gone?” asked Joe.
Aazar put a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “Robert gave his suit away, Joe. He did the right thing. You two seem to be more similar after all.”
Joe knelt beside Robert; whose skin was cold to the touch. Joe had not expected this. Then it came to him. He removed the medallion from his own neck and quickly placed it around Robert’s.
The results were immediate. Robert’s blood flowed with warmth and color returned to his skin as he took a single breath, followed by more. Once Robert was breathing evenly, he opened his eyes to the sight of Joe looking down on him.
Joe smiled. “Robert, how are you feeling?” he asked. “I thought we lost you.”
“Wonderful . . . just wonderful!” replied Robert. “You came back and this medallion . . . wow, it’s powerful.”
“Yes, thank you for giving your suit to our people,” replied Joe. “I see you had made your own personal sacrifice.”
Robert nodded. “Yes, you’re right, Joe . . . they’re our people after all,” Robert repeated in an earnest tone. “I believe you now.”
“I hope you don’t mind if I take the medallion back since you have recovered. It belongs to Sadar,” said Joe, smiling.
“Yes, of course. It’s magical! But will everyone be okay now?” asked Robert as he sat up, amazed by the healing power of the medallion. His recovery from death was immediate. It was a miracle!
“They will be, my friend,” replied Joe. “We have almost one hundred ships here to evacuate us.”
Sadar held the medallion. “I see, once again, it came through.”
“Yes, and now it has been returned to its rightful owner,” Joe answered. “I’m sorry for taking it. I didn’t understand before . . . but now I do.” He added, “Thank you for letting me use it again.”
Sadar turned to Aazar and handed the medallion to him. “This belongs to our people. Make sure we pass it around to those who need medical attention. I intend to use it differently than my forefathers.”
“Yes, my lord,” said Aazar.
Robert was astonished by the healing power of the medallion as it passed around, instantly curing the Tourians of any ailment or injury. Everything Robert had heard about the medallion was true. It was no longer just a legend. He had seen it and felt its power. His police officer’s oath no longer weighed on him because he understood his newfound purpose. He was determined to rescue his people and spread the truth back at home.
“Robert,” said Joe. “I want you to meet my dad.”
Robert, starstruck by the sight of Joe’s father, momentarily stood still before finally shaking Commodore
Devlin’s outstretched hand. Robert was meeting his childhood idol from the Tri-Sun War and he had to take a micro-cycle to compose himself.
“Robert, I heard you are hereby no fault of your own. I promise you will not be charged with us,” said Commodore Devlin.
“Sir . . . what do I call you?” asked Robert.
“Well, I’m the commodore for this mission, but you can call me Don since you are only a rider.”
Robert was seeing the situation clearly for the first time. He no longer saw traitors, but heroes around him. “Thank you, sir, but Commodore will work. If that is okay with you?” replied Robert. “If you don’t mind, I would like to help your cause.”
Commodore Devlin looked a little surprised. “Are you sure, Robert, you want to get involved? Joe filled me in on your situation.”
“Yes, they’re my . . . I mean our people,” said Robert, sure of his decision. He knew his place and who he was.
“Good,” replied Commodore Devlin. “Now, let’s get our people to safety. I’ll brief everyone on the next step after we get everyone onboard.”
26
DARKNESS BEFORE HOPE
The ancient ship’s walls hummed from its pulsating engines while cheerful voices echoed down the narrow passageway. However, Joe’s ears rattled with annoyance from the constant noise. He had been without sleep for two solar days and was becoming irritable without the Black Medallion to relieve his fatigue.
The rescue had both succeeded and failed. On one hand, the Tourians were liberated from the Grax. On the other, the military brig awaited the ISF traitors. Plus, once they surrendered to Captain Strata, the Tourians would be likely transferred to concentration camps. Joe was not sure how the ISF would treat the Tourians, kept it to himself while they celebrated for the first time since being freed.
Joe gradually pushed through a dam of Tourians unintentionally blocking the passageway. They were shoulder to shoulder, holding hands and hanging on each other’s arms, showing their fondness for one another. Way too friendly for Joe’s comfort level. He searched through the crowd for one of his dad’s crew. Finally, a lieutenant, came into view but was pinned to the wall as she tried to stay out of the Tourians’ way, which seemed impossible.