Destiny Earth

by Tony Mazzarella

  “Thanks, Professor. I certainly could use some rest,” said Will as they exchanged a look of relief.

  9

  THE SCARRED PLANET

  Devon watched the view screen, pondering the events to come as they approached the massive planet. The command deck was quiet as his crew worked diligently on their respective tasks.

  “Mr. Knarr, how long until we enter Jupiter’s gravitational field?”

  “Ten minutes, sir.”

  “Mr. Bugois, are your engines ready? We can’t afford the slightest loss of power.”

  Bugois looked up, offended by the question. “Commander, zhe engines are calibrated to run at one hundred and ten percent power, vhich vill be necessary if ve are to escape Jupiter’s gravitational pull. Zis vill certainly carry certain risks, as zhey were not designed to do zis, but my modifications should hold up.”

  “Lieutenant Shou, are you and Dr. Trace ready to proceed?”

  “Yes, sir,” Shou responded.

  Devon hadn’t had too much time to think about the kiss he and Shou had shared. He knew he couldn’t afford this distraction under the current circumstances. They’d worked closely on mission planning over the past few days, and from what he could tell, she showed no signs that she had time to contemplate any sort of relationship. He hoped this hadn’t been just a moment of desperation on her part to be forgotten, but there was no time to worry about any of that now. He snapped back to reality and began giving orders.

  “Dr. Trace, deploy the heat shield.”

  Two doors on the front hull of the ship began to open, exposing the shield. A large arm slowly deployed the device, which was designed to be compact until needed. It began to unfold itself in a circular motion forming into the shape of the head of a mushroom protecting the vessel from the heat and fire that were to come. A large jolt shook the ship as the device locked into place.

  “Heat shield deployed, Commander,” said Trace.

  “Mr. Knarr, are you ready for any gravitational anomalies?” Devon smiled and nodded at Knarr.

  “Yes, sir!” shouted Knarr, sounding more confident than ever before.

  Devon hit the intercom button to address the rest of the ship. “Crew of the Victory, we are about to enter Jupiter’s gravitational field. I’m proud of each member of this crew for the work you’ve all done over the past few weeks. Because of this hard work, we have a chance to get home in time to warn our people of what they face. We can’t afford any mistakes, so I need you all to focus on your jobs, and we’ll be on our way. I’m not going to try to soften what we’re about to do. It’s dangerous, and it will be a bumpy ride for sure. All hands to your stations. Devon out.”

  Devon snapped off the intercom and walked down the three small stairs that led to the propulsion station.

  “Mr. Bugois, full power to engines.”

  “Full power now, zir.”

  As the Victory hit the edge of Jupiter’s gravitational field, the heat shield began to absorb the massive force and fire that erupted. The ship began to shake as the pull of the planet’s gravity took hold.

  “Mr. Knarr, status!”

  “We’re beginning to feel the force of the planet and we’re building speed as planned. All systems holding, sir.”

  The giant fire trail extended far behind the Victory as it skimmed Jupiter’s atmosphere. The sound of the engines and the friction of the atmosphere on the heat shield filled the command deck as the ship continued to shake.

  “Bugois, engine status,” Devon shouted.

  “Engines holding at one hundred eleven percent over recommended operating spec, zir. I programmed in an extra percentage just in case.”

  “Good thinking. You never know if we might need that extra one percent,” said Devon sarcastically. “Shou, how soon to maximum velocity?”

  “Forty-five seconds, sir.”

  “C’mon, hold together,” Devon muttered, touching the bulkhead to his left.

  “Sir!” shouted Knarr looking more like his old self. “We have a major problem. I’ve detected a large gravitational vortex dead ahead. Its force is massive; we’ll impact it in ten seconds!”

  “Can we compensate for it?” shouted Devon, seeing Knarr’s uncertainty and fear.

  “I’m not sure, sir. I—”

  “Mr. Knarr, can we compensate!” snapped Devon.

  Knarr remembered the conversation he’d had with Commander Devon and more importantly remembered his promise: he wasn’t going to let them down.

  “I think so, sir.”

  “Mr. Knarr, go to manual control now. Bugois, one hundred twenty percent power to the engines.”

  Bugois jumped from his seat as he held on to the console. “Zir, one hundred twenty not a very good idea. Zhe engines can’t take—”

  “Do it now!” commanded Devon.

  Bugois sat back down and grudgingly slid the control lever to reflect 120 percent power to the engines. Knarr grabbed the controls and switched off computer control. He immediately altered the trajectory of the ship to bring it higher in the atmosphere to lessen the pull from the planet while continuing to build speed.

  “All hands, brace for impact,” shouted Devon through the intercom.

  As the Victory smashed into the gravitational vortex, the sound of metal twisting filled the ship, and it shook violently.

  “Bugois, what is it?”

  “ztructural failures in zeveral parts of zhe ship, zir. Attempting to identify zhe impact.”

  Devon could see Knarr desperately fighting the controls in an attempt to keep the ship from being pulled down into the planet.

  “Shou, how long?”

  “Sir, the vortex is reducing our velocity; we need another twenty seconds to build up to full speed.”

  Devon scowled. “Twenty seconds?” He knew that was an eternity in their current predicament.

  “Zir, ztructural failures are all in noncritical areas of zhe ship. The lauridium bracing is holding.”

  “Shou, stand ready to release the canister!” commanded Devon.

  As Shou ran to the release controls, the ship jolted violently. She was thrown against the bulkhead and fell to the ground. Devon made his way to where she was lying and helped her to her feet. He could see blood coming from a small cut on her head, but it didn’t look serious. She looked deep into his eyes as she rose from the floor, wondering if they would make it through this. She had hoped this look alone would tell him how she felt if this was their last moment together.

  “I’m all right, sir,” said Shou wiping the blood onto her uniform.

  “Commander! We’ve cleared the vortex. Velocity increasing,” yelled Knarr excitedly.

  The violent shaking gave way slightly as they cleared the pull of the vortex.

  “Bugois, power back to one hundred and ten. Knarr, keep manual control in case we hit another one of these things.”

  “Release in five seconds. Four, three, two, one, release!” shouted Devon.

  The canister ejected from the rear firing tube with a bright blue flash and emerged from the fire trail the ship had created as it sped by. It was immediately pulled down into Jupiter’s powerful gravitational field.

  “Dr. Trace, stand by to fire the warhead.”

  As Devon walked to where Trace was sitting, a violent jolt rocked the ship.

  “Sir! Heat shield failing!” yelled Shou. “We’ve lost a section, and the hull temperature is rising rapidly.”

  Devon looked at the computer animation that showed the condition of the heat shield and the missing section blinking in red.

  “Shou, angle the shield to keep the missing section protected.”

  “Sir, we must alter our calculations,” yelled Trace urgently. “The pull of the vortex is taking the canister down faster than we expected. We need to fire in five seconds!”

  “Can we assume that the pull of the vortex could affect the accuracy of our warhead?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s a possibility,” said Trace.

  “Prepare to
fire two warheads. We can’t miss this. Now! Fire!”

  The two missiles left the Victory and searched for their target far below. The ship continued to shake as more pieces of the heat shield were torn away.

  “Shou, how’s our velocity and distance?”

  “Calculating now, sir. We’re not as far from the canister as I had hoped. The vortex reduced our velocity to—”

  “Shou, is it enough?”

  Devon could see the look of uncertainty in her eyes.

  “I don’t know, sir. It’ll be close.”

  Devon looked at the monitor that showed the missiles heading to their target; it would be any time now.

  “Commander, the hull temperature is at critical. We can’t last more than a few more seconds.”

  Devon could see the missiles were seconds from their target.

  “We won’t need to, Mr. Knarr,” said Devon calmly, knowing their fate rested on their distance from the explosion and not a failing heat shield.

  The missiles hit the canister simultaneously. For a moment, a blinding blue light blazed from the impact creating a massive fireball, which hurtled toward the Victory.

  “Impact, Commander. We have impact,” said Trace.

  The brilliant blue shockwave began to make its way outward as the Omada gas ignited and raced forward at incredible velocity. The massive explosion would soon overtake the escaping Victory.

  “Ten seconds!” yelled Shou over the noise of the quickly deteriorating heat shield.

  As the wave traveled toward the ship, it began to affect Jupiter’s surface, creating immense disturbances. The vortex had pulled in a large amount of the explosive matter, and a giant red spot began to form where the planet became scarred from the concentrated force of the explosion.

  “Five seconds!”

  “Everyone, brace yourselves!” yelled Devon as he looked to see where Shou was. He pulled the four-way harness over his shoulders and snapped it in place. He watched the view screen that showed the seconds ticking down. “Impact now!”

  The enormous firestorm caught the Victory from behind and ripped it from Jupiter’s gravitational pull. The violent impact tore what was left of the heat shield from its deployment arm as it poured over the ship. A large piece of the lauridium bracing broke free and slammed to the floor just missing Dr. Trace.

  “Commander, our speed is increasing exponentially. We’re being propelled by the wave, sir! It’s working!” Devon couldn’t help but notice the poise that Knarr was displaying; he’d been on manual control the entire time and was still wrestling the controls as they were escaping the pull of the planet and being propelled into space.

  Gradually the wave began to dissipate, leaving the Victory hurdling forward in the blackness of outer space. The vibration of the force of the explosion began to subside, and the command deck was eerily quiet.

  Devon undid his safety harness and jumped up from his chair. “Is everyone all right?”

  He could see the relieved face of Grace Shou nod that she was fine. Dr. Trace was already analyzing data at her console, and Bugois was expressionless as he sat, white as a ghost, in his chair.

  “Bugois, are you all right?”

  “It vas zhat extra ten percent, zir. You were right. My engines did it!”

  Devon put his hand on Bugois’s shoulder. “Your engines did fine. Great work. Shou, get me a status of all hands.”

  Shou approached with a grim look on her face. “Commander, word from below. We…we’ve lost Gallantine. He’s dead, sir.”

  Marcus Gallantine was a young engineer who had been assigned to the Victory just prior to launch. He was a replacement for a crewmember who had become pregnant prior to launch and had to be removed from the crew. Devon hadn’t really had the opportunity to get to know him like he knew most of the crew, and now he regretted that.

  “Damn!” said Devon, rubbing his forehead. “Find out about the rest of the crew. We have to see where we stand.”

  “Yes, sir.” said Shou as she turned and disappeared through a small tunnel that led below deck.

  “Trace, ship’s status. How much damage have we sustained?”

  “Unknown, sir. I’m trying to figure that out. The heat shield has been totally destroyed and is no longer with us. I’m trying to see how much hull damage we’ve sustained as a result.”

  As Devon looked at the view screen, he could see Jupiter quickly fading in the distance as the ship sped away. The red spot that was created by the explosion stood out like a bloody wound to the planet.

  “We certainly left our mark, didn’t we?” Devon said softly to himself.

  “Yez, zir,” said Bugois, finally recovered from the past few minutes.

  Devon hadn’t expected an answer, but was pleased to see Bugois had some color back in his face and was standing beside him. “Jon Paul, I need a status on the engines, and assist Dr. Trace on assessing structural damage to the ship. Begin preparations for any repairs that need to take place. Let’s get her put back together.”

  Shou climbed from below via the ladder that led to the command deck.

  “Commander, we have one serious head injury, but I think she’ll make it, several other minor injuries, and of course Gallantine.”

  “I suppose we’re lucky any of us are alive. That was one crazy plan, Lieutenant.” Devon smiled at Shou, longing to feel the softness of her lips upon his.

  “Yes, sir, it was.”

  Devon could see Knarr still working diligently on navigational data. He’d barely looked up since they left Jupiter.

  Devon walked down the small steps that led to the navigation station.

  “You did well, Mr. Knarr.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Don’t thank me.”

  “Sir?” said Knarr, looking confused.

  Devon put his fist over his chest. “Now you know what’s in here, and don’t you ever forget it. I expect nothing less than what you showed me today.”

  Knarr felt a pride in himself that he’d never experienced; his actions had most likely saved the ship and crew from death.

  “I won’t forget it, sir.”

  “Dr. Trace, how are we looking?” asked Devon, walking a few steps to where she sat.

  She pulled up an external view of the front of the ship, and she and Devon leaned over the small display screen assessing the damage.

  “The hull is pretty beat up, but nothing we can’t deal with. All in all we’re OK, considering what we were just through. As you can see, the heat shield was ripped from the deployment arm. We’ve tried to retract it, but the arm is too badly damaged. It shouldn’t cause us any problems, though.”

  Devon could see the jagged, burnt edge of the deployment arm jutting out from the front of the ship like a dagger.

  “I guess a landing on Earth is out of the question at this point. We’ll have to use the escape pods.”

  “Yes, sir. It would seem to be our only option now.”

  Shou emerged from the lower deck once again and joined Trace and Devon.

  “Shou, have the landing teams make preparations using the escape pods as our method of getting through Earth’s atmosphere. We won’t have the Victory as a shelter, so we need a contingency for that as well.”

  Shou could see the missing heat shield on the monitor and immediately understood. “I’ll take care of it, sir. We have another problem.”

  Both Devon and Trace looked weary, as if they couldn’t take another setback.

  “The gravitational vortex over Jupiter decreased our velocity, as you know. It was only for about ten seconds, but translated over our entire journey back, it had a more significant impact on our speed. It appears we’ll only have just over an hour to contact Mars before impact.”

  Devon couldn’t hide his deflated look. They’d nearly been destroyed, and it now might have been for nothing.

  “Trace, is there anything we can do in that timeframe?”

  “I’m not sure; it depends on how quickly I can get the Guardian
to accept my commands, and I won’t know how long that will be until we’re in range. I think I can do it in a relatively short period of time, so it will all depend on who, if anyone, is on the other end of the console.”

  “This seems like such a cruel joke, to go through all of this just to fall short. We have to make this work. Do anything you need to do to prepare so that as soon as we’re in range you can get a message through.”

  Trace nodded and walked off; looking like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. The entire plan would succeed or fail based on her ability to decipher the code of the Guardian and she was beginning to feel the pressure of that responsibility.

  “Shou…Grace, how’s your head? You took quite a hit.”

  “I’m OK, sir. Just a small cut.”

  “Others weren’t that lucky, were they? We need to have a service for Gallantine as soon as possible. We’re going to be grieving for our loved ones when we get back; let’s give Gallantine the individual recognition of an officer who gave his live for them. He deserves at least that.”

  “Agreed, sir. I’ll see to it.”

  As evening arrived, Shou assembled the crew in the engineering bay. They lined both sides of the bay as the body of Ensign Gallantine, wrapped in the Unified Mars flag, was rolled into the airlock.

  “There aren’t words to describe the grief we all feel over the loss of this bright young officer. He died as all of us hope to die someday, giving everything we have so that others can have a chance to make their peace and fight for their lives. If we are to follow him soon into the afterlife, let us meet our end gallantly, with honor, as he did, God willing.”

  With these words from Devon, Shou called all hands to attention as the airlock opened. Gallantine’s flag-wrapped body tumbled into the vacuum of space, left far behind as the Victory sped away to its unknown fate.

  Trace sat in her quarters reviewing the programming code she’d developed with Dr. O’Neil for the Telos project. She felt the enormous pressure of making this plan work, and it had been so long since she’d even thought about those days aboard Collosum. They were some of the best and most painful of her life, and she had no desire to relive the memories of her relationship with Will and the repercussions that followed. She barely heard the knock at the door, but quickly tried to compose herself before answering.