Joe Devlin: And the Renegades’ Toil (Space Academy Series Book 5)

by James Thomas

  With the weapon core gone and both propulsion engines shut down, her vessel and anyone else in the area were about to receive a fatal dose of radiation. Vi Ryant had no more room for war against the ISF. Her brother had guided her down the wrong path to the destruction of her world and her people. “Send them our surrender,” said Vi Ryant. “Let’s make sure I give our people one last chance to survive.”

  “Supreme Leader,” the COM Officer answered, wheezing from the effects of the radiation. “Captain Strata from the ISF has acknowledged our transmission. However, they seem to be in the same situation and have requested outside help. No one can move under their own power.”

  A graveyard of dead and dying ships surrounded Huldra in an aura of sorrow. The solar flares had not only disabled the Tourian ships but also the ISF. There were no winners. The star was going to have the last say as they were all caught in its footprint. Any rescue mission would be in haste, with every Grax, Tourian, and Bandorians’ fate united in their downfall.

  28

  REDEMPTION

  A lone Star Fighter appeared from behind the shadow of the Grax space station on a flight path toward Huldra’s star. After leaving Task Force Ninety-nine, it had traveled around the back of the planet to mask itself. The direct route might have been preferable, but as an adversarial threat, Captain Strata or Admiral Pearson would have destroyed the fighter. The indirect route gave the fighter time, creating a tactical advantage.

  “Is that ours?” asked Captain Strata, his voice weakened as he was half slumped over in his command chair. Ninety percent of his vessel’s protective shield had failed, allowing radiation from the star’s flares to slowly soak into his body. His TAC-O officer had collapsed over his console, barely moving, but managed to remain at his station, even at death’s doorstep. The rest of his crew lay motionless on the deck of the ship.

  “It’s . . . a Star Fighter . . . matched to the Space Station . . . Janus,” said the TAC-O as he struggled to breathe over his words. He struggled to speak a few words at a time. “It’s listed as . . . missing in action . . . missing from a recent . . . battle. I’m not sure . . . why it’s . . . way out here. Standby . . . sir. It’s . . . it’s broadcasting a message . . . on all open channels.”

  Captain Strata’s ship’s engines had failed, with only minimum battery power left to supply life support. The oxygen was getting very thin throughout the ship.

  “Patch . . . it through. If you can still find the strength,” Captain Strata said breathing, heavily, trying to take enough oxygen in to continue. “Tell . . . that pilot to . . . to . . . save them . . . themselves while . . . they still . . . can.”

  “Patched . . . through,” said the TAC-O.

  A looped transmission came over the audio system, distorted slightly from the radiation interference. “This is Cadet Joe Devlin of Task Force Ninety-nine flying in a lone Star Fighter. Do not fire on my vessel. I’m here to save Huldra’s star. If you scan my ship you can see my weapons have been completely disabled.”

  Captain Strata leaned forward and vomited from the radiation. He did not have the strength to wipe his mouth. Instead, he used his remaining strength to speak. “Tell him . . . to turn away . . . and save himself . . . before the radiation . . . before . . . it also disables his engines.”

  “Sir, he’s . . . he’s not . . . answering,” replied TAC-O, gasping for air that was not there. His body slid off the communication console with a thud as he impacted the deck.

  Captain Strata looked toward the viewing screen then raised his hand toward it before collapsing to the ground.

  ***

  “Joe, the external radiation is increasing past fatal organic cell levels. If you must eject, your suit cannot to protect you,” warned Augie.

  “Augie, it’s been a good run. But this is a one-way trip for us. I’m just sorry I must take you with me. You still have that new vehicle smell,” said Joe with a half-smirk on his face. Yet Augie could not see it without any video feeds, so Joe could only hope the pun was not lost on him.

  “Joe, for all the calculations I can perform, I still can’t think of any way out. This medallion idea is crazy! But you already know,” said Augie.

  Joe had intended to take a more direct route, but with Captain Strata waiting for his father’s surrender, he had to take the long way around the planet to mask his ship. Joe had listened in horror to the calls from this father, in a weakened state from the radiation sickness. However, around Joe’s neck was the Black Medallion. Sadar had given him the one thing that, in his mind, he did not deserve and now he had to earn it. Though it was a one-way trip since the radiation levels had increased to a much higher percentage and further out from the star than Joe had calculated using Augie.

  “Sorry Augie, you are now part of crazy,” said Joe. “It was good knowing you.”

  “Same to you Joe,” replied Augie. “For my first human, I hope you aren’t the norm!”

  “Always the comedian,” replied Joe. But he knew Augie understood in some strange AI way. They had become quick friends and comrades. AI was an amazing tool that had quickly blurred into an unknown realm of closeness that Joe had not foreseen. It did not seem fair to Joe to drag Augie into his fate, but he had little choice in the situation.

  Radiation weakened his ship’s shields as the engines struggled to power the unarmed fighter, but Joe could not feel the effects. The medallion protected him.

  “Joe, you never answered the incoming COM call,” noted Augie.

  “No need to as long as no one fires on us,” replied Joe. “We need to focus. Is the transmission I recorded still playing?”

  “Yes, I looped it,” answered Augie.

  As the fighter approached Huldra’s star, its heat caused Joe’s canopy to initially fog up. It quickly turned into steam as the moisture from the air humidifier was exceeded. The same transformation was happening to the lubricants in the engines, causing both to run roughly while Joe closed the distance to the star.

  The canopy was crackling. Slightly at first, then a larger crack began to split it down the center. It was a miracle that it had not broken in half.

  The starboard engine seized up first, pushing Joe forward in his seat as the ship slowed to half its thrust. It was not long until the port side engine followed almost the same way. Smoke filled the cockpit. It was light at first, but it grew heavier, reducing Joe’s visibility. Only the ship’s momentum kept it moving toward the star.

  Joe pushed the controls forward while the fighter glided through the frictionless Space. He released his grip at the optimum angle.

  Reaching down for the ejection handle, Joe struggled to pull it. The tension was set to a high level, protecting accidental ejection. Joe tugged hard, leading to a loud explosion that was muffled by the vacuum of Space. Total silence followed.

  Joe was thrown toward the star as the capsule around him pulled away, with the seat explosively detaching, sending the ship in the opposite direction. He was running out of options as he drifted toward the star. His momentum from the ejection had increased his velocity, giving him a slim chance. Joe looked over his suit, checking its condition with an operational status check. The test passed, but soon after, the high radiation warning sounded. With the Black Medallion, Joe would be okay—but only for a short while.

  Huldra’s star was in its final moments with radiation spewing out. This was just part of the star’s life. Its soul would transfer back to the Space where it had come from ten billion cycles before. The star did not care about the Grax, the ISF, or the so-called traitors because it was a natural process. It had been carried out many times, more than even Augie could count.

  Sadness filled Joe’s heavy heart as he understood that his father was most likely deceased, along with everyone else within the star’s radiologic fallout. He had listened to his father’s last words in silence to maintain his covert mission. In fact, his operation was not even approved, and that detail made Joe question his own intent. Was he selfless or selfish? Now
, to make matters worse, no one would even know if he failed or succeeded, including Joe himself.

  Joe continued his advance toward the star, knowing that without air friction to slow him down, he would make it eventually. The radiation warning flashing on the arm of Joe’s suit showed a fatal dose, yet he continued.

  His original plan had been to get close enough to the star to carry out his self-approved mission. Now with his vessel destroyed, Joe had become trapped in open Space. Eventually he would be pulled into the star by its gravity. The means no longer mattered to Joe because he had accepted his fate regardless.

  “Augie let me know when I’m close enough,” but Augie did not respond. “Augie!” repeated Joe several more times, but knew it was pointless. The radiation had fried Augie’s system.

  Joe fired his right suit thruster, twisting around for a better view behind him. The Grax, Tourian, and ISF ships all lay disabled. Joe’s trip around Huldra had taken too long. However, he would follow through with his plan since he might save the star for future generations of Grax or allow the Tourians still in other mines a chance to survive. Truth-be-told, Joe had no clue as to if his plan would even work.

  Joe took a deep breath, but he could not sense any air coming into his lungs or hear any sounds of pressurized oxygen hissing in the helmet. He checked his system, which revealed a damaged oxygen generator that was no longer functional. It had been a casualty of a radiation overload. Now the medallion was his only lifeline.

  Joe did not want to get much closer to the star and see his spacesuit burn up from his body while still alive, regardless of the medallion’s power. An understandable desire for the end.

  His thoughts pulled inward. Irrespective of Joe’s combat experience, in the end, he was still a boy. He had long ago surpassed any expectations of himself. He had never planned. Instead, he had followed others, going along with the situation.

  Now at the finish, he realized the full ramifications. Several tears rolled down his cheek, one for his dad, another for the Tourians, even one for the Grax. War was hell and he wanted to give one last gesture of peace that everyone would see. Still, Joe had to focus on the task at hand. He might be a boy, but he would become a man with his next action.

  His thoughts focused. Everything his father had told him about life and war and his responsibility had decisively come to an apex. Joe did not shrink from it but he understood the responsibility of having boundless power through the medallion. He also remembered what Chief Bandor had written in the books on the moon and why he had given up the medallion.

  Joe fired his thrusters, rotating him back around toward the star. He opened his helmet visor to Space and removed the Black Medallion around his neck making sure not to release it prematurely. Then he closed the visor again, but it was a useless motion since he was out of air in his suit.

  Thoughts of Mandy, and then of his life passed through his mind as Joe retracted his arm with the medallion grasped tightly in his hand. With the other hand, he reached for the front thrusters, pressing them to reverse his forward motion. Then released the medallion. Joe had programmed the thrusters to stay on until the fuel was spent, ensuring his path would at least be away from the star for now.

  The medallion hurled forward toward the star and its gravitational well, while life quickly faded from Joe’s eyes. He had sacrificed himself for the greater good. It was his final act, both selfless and heroic.

  ***

  Vi Ryant lifted herself upright. “Magnify the view of that person,” she said.

  The ships’ computer voice replied, “Magnifying.”

  Vi Ryant coughed. The radiation had penetrated her body requiring a constant effort to breathe. She struggled against her own lungs. On the viewing screen appeared the lifeless body of Joe Devlin floating in Space. Vi Ryant struggled to understand his goal in a failed undertaking. His name brought a myriad of feelings of wrongs against her, and now, here he was again. What harm had he done this time, she wondered.

  But she had not fired on him since he had surrendered. Vi Ryant still had honor left and she wanted to remember that she had compassion for the helpless. She was not like her brother and that was what she wanted her last thoughts to be in the end.

  Observing the scene before her, she saw a familiar object. “Further magnify the object in front of him,” ordered Vi Ryant.

  The computer split the screen into two parts. The screen’s left side showed the boy’s body, and on the right side, an object caught in the star’s gravity.

  “Keep tracking and magnify the object so I can see what it is,” ordered Vi Ryant. But she already knew what it was deep down. The radiation levels wouldn’t have allowed any vessel to travel close to a star with current technology. The pilot needed something unnatural to make it as close.

  “Complying,” answered the computer. On the right side, the Black Medallion appeared.

  Why, thought Vi Ryant? Curiosity took over her weakened body, filling her with strength. She watched as the medallion traveled ever faster toward the star, pulled in by the gravitation until the two met. A brilliant flash of light blossomed outward, filling Vi Ryant’s view screen.

  When the two entities touched, the Black Medallion was absorbed by the star, destroying it. All previous attempts had failed; however, this time, not only had it been destroyed, but its power had been transferred to heal the sun. The medallion restored the star’s fuel to that of a young, powerful star. The access energy caused the light to be pulsated outward, blanketing all in its way; the Grax, the ISF, Tourians, and the planet.

  Vi Ryant felt it immediately. The warmth of the light filled her body with strength beyond belief. Around her, Vi Ryant’s crew awoke from their final beds. It had given life back to the lost.

  “Computer,” said Vi Ryant. “What are the radiation levels onboard our ship?”

  “Zero,” answered the computer.

  “Change the view to show Huldra,” she ordered.

  Huldra’s view appeared on the screen but it looked different, and was quickly changing. Half the planet was now free of ice, with a wave of transformation changing the rest. The light was healing Huldra as it pulsed from the star, which was brighter than before and no longer looked like a dwarf star.

  A tear rolled down Vi Ryant’s face. Joe Devlin, the boy she hated so much, had saved her people, the planet, and the star. Joy filled Vi Ryant’s heart so quick that she felt like it would burst. She was grateful beyond measure.

  Without any warning, the communication channels exploded with distress calls, but this time it was from survivors, but how?

  Vi Ryant ordered her vessels to rescue all they came upon, no matter what race. This miracle was not to be wasted. Her compassion had not only returned from but blossomed beyond. She felt reborn.

  “Captain Strata,” said Vi Ryant over the open communication channel.

  “I’m here,” replied Captain Strata. He was somehow alive, and he did not understand why. He remembered Joe Devlin’s transmission, but surely, Captain Strata himself had died on the bridge. Yet, now he was breathing and felt incredibly healthy. His crew had awakened from some unknown state and was repairing the ship’s systems. The ship’s medical ward was now empty, as his chief medical doctor reported a miracle. The wounded had completely healed, and the deceased had returned to life, yet he could not explain it.

  “I’m ready for those peace talks,” said Vi Ryant.

  “Yes, me too,” responded Captain Strata. “But first, let’s get all the people recovered before we worry about that. My weapons systems are offline and will remain so.”

  “My people are ready to help recover anyone they find,” said Vi Ryant.

  “Yes, we’ll do the same. After that, if you can explain what exactly happened, it would be extremely helpful?” asked Captained Strata still in the fog of his miraculous recovery.

  “Agreed,” replied Vi Ryant before adding, “Definitely agreed. Our weapons are offline.”

  29

  THE SAKEN
PEACE

  White light flooded and stung Joe’s eyes as he opened them. He was confused by his surroundings as his eyes came into focus. First, he saw Angel’s image sitting in a chair next to the bed where Joe was lying.

  “Well, it’s about time,” said Angel. “I’m disappointed that I almost missed one of our crazy adventures.”

  “Am I dreaming?” asked Joe.

  “Well, no, because if you were, I would be the hero for sure,” joked Angel.

  “Now I know it’s not a dream, with your bad jokes,” replied Joe with a smile.

  “Man . . . and I thought I was getting funnier,” said Angel. “Aren’t friends supposed to laugh at each other’s jokes?”

  “I’m pretty sure I get nightmares from your jokes,” said Joe, laughing. “But I’m more curious about how I got here. I remember a sun and well . . . the end,” said Joe.

  “Yeah, I’m a little upset about that, but I’ll forgive you this time. Besides that’s the best part.”

  Angel handed Joe a small device the size of a small coin. “I put a tracker on you,” said Angel. “You see I was a little upset that you were up to something without me. It’s a good thing Dumar had told me earlier in the day that you needed to be tracked because you’re always up to something.”

  “Wow, even after giving me the AI!” exclaimed Joe.

  “You mean, Uncle Dumar,” replied Angel teasing.

  “But I didn’t want to risk . . .,” Joe began before Angel cut him off.

  “I’m glad you didn’t ask because who else would have your back,” replied Angel.

  “But I didn’t tell you the details,” said Joe.

  “Yeah, like that’s going to stop your best friend,” said Angel. “Remember that letter to your sister?”

  Joe nodded, yes.

  “And that you made me promise to only deliver it,” added Angel.