Terminus Project: Jupiter (Child Prodigy SciFi)

by Casey Herzog

  “It’s the Secessionists.” Minerva’s gave the freighter’s image on the screen a dirty look as she spoke. “They’ve taken her over and have tried to throw her at us like a battering ram.”

  The Admiral looked heavenward and gave a single nod. “Thank you for that analysis, Miss Tharsis. Anyone else?”

  “She could have been scuppered in a skirmish and then simply been left to drift.” The second in command of Saturn cohort offered. She stroked her chin as she studied the feed more closely. “Look at the trajectory, it’s completely straight. If the Secessionists had taken her and wanted to try and ram us, they would at least have programmed her to adjust course. That’s how it was at Earth Gate.”

  “Yes, very good. Let’s continue our theories now.” As the Admiral encouraged further discussion, Peter glanced at the girl from Saturn Cohort, noting the contemptuous smile the girl flashed Minerva.

  “Are there any signs of a crew? Have comms revealed anything?” The Commander of Neptune Cohort waded in with an uncertain voice.

  “No. All attempts to raise the Orion have gone unanswered. Either no one is aboard, or they are choosing to ignore us.” The Admiral seemed to be enjoying this little puzzle. Peter’s expression dulled, and he began to let his eyes drift away from the monitor.

  “It is curious, is it not, that we should just happen to stumble on the ship by accident out here.” Alphred tilted his head slightly as he thought aloud. “If she is scuppered and traveling in a single direction, I hesitate to guess what the chances were of us intercepting her.”

  “Next to impossible,” the navigation officer confirmed. Her voice carried a note of amusement, confirming a suspicion that had been building in Peter’s mind since the Admiral had first spoken.

  “Mr. Gabell, you seem to be showing a decided disinterest in the situation.” The Admiral was sharp as ever, and Peter blushed to be singled out. “Would you care to explain your decided confidence?”

  Peter swallowed. “I have no idea what it is, Admiral,” he admitted. “Whatever it is though, it’s not a threat.” He didn’t feel good about his answer, but it was the best he could give.

  “Is it not? And could you perhaps enlighten us as to how you have arrived at this conclusion without knowing what the freighter is?” The other chiefs had turned from their stations as the Admiral continued to probe Peter further. Chief Dowle fixed him with a particularly fearsome look.

  “If you deemed the ship a threat, you wouldn’t be taking the opportunity to tutor us and let us figure out the problem for ourselves. So, I can only guess you’ve called the cohorts to stand ready as a precaution.”

  “That blaze attitude is going to get you in real trouble someday Gabell. Take the situation more seriously.” Chief Evan’s face was red, and were he in command at that moment, Peter felt sure he’d have loved nothing more than to chew him out.

  “Now, now; Mr. Gabell is not entirely wrong. Even if he has come at the problem from an unorthodox angle, he has hit upon a truth of the situation. However, it is not enough to decipher if something is a threat or not. Just because we are not about to fight, that does not mean you can allow yourself to relax and ignore the situation.” The Admiral fixed Peter with a stern look almost as an afterthought.

  “Sorry, Admiral.” Peter’s face flushed red, and he tried to ignore the other sets of eyes that still lingered on him.

  “Well, if you wish to make amends, Mr. Gabell, you may as well join the party we are sending over to inspect the shuttle.” The Admiral’s words sent a ripple through the room, and Peter could feel the other cohort leaders bristling.

  “Admiral, with respect, Saturn Cohort is in need of more field work,” the smug girl who had spoken before interjected. “Gabell has been at the forefront of two engagements already since the Unity’s launch and -.”

  “- And this will make him a most valuable asset to take with you to the Orion. Saturn Cohort will take the Dove and dock with the Orion. Take the necessary precautions when boarding her and discover just who has sent her out our way. All other cohorts will remain on alert. While there does not appear to be any immediate threat posed by the freighter, it never hurts to remain vigilant.” Peter knew this kernel of wisdom was spoken purely for his benefit. “Commanders, you are dismissed to your stations.”

  “Admiral, I request permission to join the reconnaissance party. I am the most qualified pilot and could man the Dove.” Minerva blurted out the request, causing everyone to freeze in place. All eyes shot back to their leader.

  “Request denied. Join your cohort Miss Tharsis, and help Commander Armstrong.” The Admiral’s reply was blunt; he didn’t even take any time to arrive at the decision.

  “Better luck next time, the girl from Saturn Cohort whispered in passing to Minerva. She looked back to Peter as she lingered by the command deck entrance. “You coming Gabell? We need to suit up quick.”

  Peter scratched the back of his neck, feeling heat return to his cheeks as Minerva stared at him. He thought he could see tears shimmering in her eyes as she looked at him. If they were, they were tears of frustration. He wanted to say something to her, reassure her that she wasn’t missing out on anything. The words didn’t come to him. Somewhat ashamed of himself, he kicked off from the floor and floated after the commanders of Saturn Cohort.

  Saturn cohort had little to do with the younger divisions. Peter imagined they had more in common with Jupiter cohort. The two held the same shift hours, operating while the other three cohorts slept. Except for a few drills and command meetings, Peter rarely saw the group ,and it was strange to suddenly be accompanying them on a mission. He had a definite feeling of not belonging and was determined to keep as low a profile as possible. As soon as he was in his EVA suit, he stepped into the Unity's shuttle, the Dove, and moved right to the back.

  At eighteen years old, the members of Saturn Cohort were all far more impressive to look at than Peter: stronger, fitter, taller. Peter felt completely outclassed in their presence. Though it was harder to see their faces with the light glaring off their helmets, he felt confident that they were all looking down on him. He tried not to let it get to him.

  “Listen up, Cohort,” their commander barked over the communicator, sounding just like the staff chiefs. “This is a recon run. Freighter floating within five clicks of the Unity, designation: Orion's Bow. Initial intelligence suggests the ship is safe, but I want you all on alert. I don't want to step on that boat and wind up in some Secessionist trap.”

  Peter was impressed. He didn't particularly like the girl, but he couldn't deny her command of her cohort. He glanced at her team, all of them listening intently to her words and blocking out all other distractions. Minerva, the new Minerva, would have been impressed by the cohort's cohesion. Were she to see it, she'd probably push Alphred to work their own division extra hard. With this in mind, Peter decided at once that he would not mention any of this to her.

  “Any questions?” Peter's focus returned to the cohort commander as she rounded off her speech.

  “Yes, Ma'am. Why are we stuck babysitting the runt?” A chuckle spread over the comms.

  “He's here to get an education on what a well-trained and focused cohort looks like, so show him your best.”

  A succession of ayes and nods came in response to their commander's words. She didn't pay them any heed. Floating to the cockpit, she strapped herself in, and Peter felt his seat shudder as the shuttle came to life.

  The Dove was the Unity's deployment vessel intended to deliver a cohort into any kind of war zone. An array of arms and specialist equipment lined the shuttle walls, everything from spears and shields to rubber grenades and metal cutters were there, ready to break through any defence the crew might find against them. Against a drifting freighter that was almost certainly unmanned, most of the equipment was not necessary. Still, the cohort was ordered to take up arms and made to assemble in a tight defensive formation at the Dove's airlock on docking. Peter was not surprised when he was order
ed to wait near the rear of the group.

  The cohort remained anchored to the floor by the magnetic clamps on their boots. They were like perfect statues as the Dove completed its docking procedure with the Orion. The cohort was lined three abreast, shields raised and spears pointed forward. They were ready for a fight, and Peter wondered if they would be disappointed if they didn't get one.

  “Commander, docking is complete. I've tried hailing the Orion one last time for procedure's sake.” Peter listened attentively as the pilot's voice came over his earpiece.

  “No response?”

  “None. The freighter isn't dead though. She has power, and I've been able to interface with her shipboard computer. Seems she's been left unlocked for us. I can open her airlock doors from here.”

  “Convenient...” The commander fell silent, her unit wound tight like jack-in-a-boxes ready to spring.

  “Do you want me to open her, Commander?”

  Peter turned and looked to the girl as she bit her bottom lip. When she lifted her shield a little higher, he knew she had made up her mind. “Do it. Ready yourselves Saturn. Lock shields and prepare for anything.”

  The light above the airlock door flicked from red to green and then opened.

  The interior of the Orion was dark. The lights were all out and no one was home.

  “No trap triggers. Cohort, fast advance, search and suppress.” Peter had expected a slow and cautious push into the unknown, but it seemed Saturn Cohort had other ideas. Simultaneously disengaging the mag-locks on their boots and activating their thrusters, the group moved as one. They shot through the dark corridor of the Orion's airlock and began fanning out. The cohort must have trained and developed their stratagem intensely, as every member worked independently and without orders. Peter watched, fascinated as the division quickly fanned out in groups of three, moving like tiny spearheads through the freighter, scouring every square inch of her in minutes.

  The Commander and a group of four others moved to the Orion's bridge and, with no order given to him otherwise, Peter decided to tail this group. He floated behind them, taking in the freighter's design as they moved through her. The Orion was, primarily, a cargo freighter. Over three-quarters of her length was built for storage: whatever was needed on Jupiter's various bases and stations. The living section of the ship was small and cramped. There was a kitchen, billets, bathroom, and rec-room all squashed tightly together near the ship's bridge. A quick glance through the open billet door revealed the Orion was made for a crew of twelve. This was hardly uncommon for ships in the outer planets, but it still seemed like a very small number to Peter. He couldn't imagine how much of a struggle it might be keeping entertained on a ship like this. You would have to really hope you got along with your crewmates here.

  As he inspected the living spaces, a thought suddenly hit him: there were no bodies. Unless the crew were all hidden away amidst the cargo hold, there was nobody here.

  “Hey, tourist.” Peter's blinked and turned his head. The Commander and her party had stopped by the bridge door and were clearly waiting on him. “Stick close.”

  Peter didn't bother to reply, just engaged his suit's thrusters and pushed forward to join the others.

  The three others who had accompanied the Commander remained alert to the possibility that this was still a trap and trained their spears at the unopened bridge door. “Gabell, you can do the honors of opening her?”

  Peter raised an eyebrow. “Scared it's booby-trapped?”

  “Not scared, just cautious. And if it is, I would rather lose you than one of my own.”

  Peter could not tell if the woman was being sincere or just messing with him. Either way, he was not going to argue. He floated forward and stood by the door controls, taking care to keep his body pressed to the wall.

  As soon as he opened the door, the others rushed through. 'Hard and fast' seemed to be the way Saturn Cohort liked to play.

  “Benson, pull the ship’s logs and try and find out what brought her out so far. Cara, see if you can raise any of the ship's systems.”

  “What are you going to do?” Peter asked, as he watched two of her party drift over to the console.

  The Commander turned sharply. He couldn’t see her face under the helmet, but he had the distinct impression she was glaring at him. “I’m going to check the shipping manifest. Maybe the Secessionists left the ship out here drifting as bait for us to follow.”

  “You mean they want us to go poking around, wait for us to open a cargo pod; then boom!” Peter smirked. The Commander really was keen to make this mission about their enemy.

  “You’ve got to keep a suspicious mind, Gabell.” The Commander said, as she began to spool her way through a computer feed. “Once you hit Pluto and are tasked with guarding her, as I will with Saturn, it’ll be your job to treat everything with suspicion. It was because we put our total faith in the deep space colonies that the Secessionists were able to gain ground and power to begin with.”

  Peter shrugged his shoulders and let his body drift. “I’ll bear that in mind. Still, just something for you to consider, if the Secessionists have set booby traps in the cargo hold, do you really think they’d have been kind enough to update the logs for us so we’d know?”

  “Don’t think I don’t know that, idiot.” The woman began to push through the data on the screen faster. “But if it is a trap, I am betting that…” She trailed off for a moment. Something had clearly caught her attention and Peter was momentarily forgotten. “Okay, Cohort, I’ve found something!”

  Peter’s body stiffened, and he grabbed a wall bracket to steady his drifting, trying to see over the Commander’s shoulder to the screen. “What is it, you find a trap?”

  The girl sighed. “No, it’s not a trap. But the news isn’t good either.”

  CHAPTER 5

  What should have been a triumphant entry for the Unity into the Jupiter System became a timid attempt to slink in undetected. Jupiter, though the first of the outer planets, had held its allegiance to Earth for the longest time during the Secessionist uprising. Now, however, the enemy had gained a definite foothold in the system, even having taken the principle hub station: Galileo. The Galileo was a large station, with five spinning rotundas simulating gravity, six docking ports for shuttles and cargo freighters and a large holding area that could hold enough food to last a medium sized country for several months. Its scope was truly tremendous; its importance: incalculable. And it belonged to the enemy.

  The Orion had been a last-ditch effort by the defenders of the facility to send out a warning to the Unity. The Jovian’s knew the Unity was coming and knew she needed to be warned of the great upheaval that had taken over large swathes of the system. Those who sent her on her way knew the Secessionists would be monitoring all of Jupiter for communications with the Unity, and would likely have used the superior equipment on the Galileo to block or intercept any transmissions sent to her by those who had remained loyal to Earth. The Orion was a messenger, not a trap. Buried deep in the cargo manifest of the ship, the loyalists had outlined all the major bases the Secessionists had taken hold of, as well as the preparations they had made to fight the Unity. Now, Admiral Gayle intended to use the information sent to him.

  “Okay crew, this is Admiral Gayle.” Peter lay in his bunk, staring up at the cot bed above him. Though it was the rest shift for his cohort, no one was sleeping. They all knew this moment was coming, and there was no way any of them were going to miss the ship’s first engagement in space. He took a deep breath as he heard the Admiral’s words drift around the billet.

  “We have just entered the Jovian system and have cleared the orbit of the outer moon Erinome. We have been hailed by the Jupiter station Galileo, which has altered its orbit to meet us. The Secessionists on board believe we are walking into their trap and herein lies our strength. When we rendezvous with the station in approximately eight hours, they will believe our guard is down. The Dove will be sent to dock with the station car
rying our brave and battle-ready men and women of Jupiter and Saturn Cohorts. The enemy will not expect us to come armed and prepared for a fight. As far as they will know, our first shuttle will contain a section of the Chiefs of Staff, a small number of Jupiter Cohort and myself. While the fight may belong to Jupiter and Saturn Cohorts, I expect all divisions to go about their duties admirably. We are a machine, a well-oiled clock. No matter how insignificant one gear may seem, the clock will only run when all the gears move as one.”

  Peter took a deep breath and put his hands behind his head as he continued to listen to the quasi-scripted inspirational pep talk the Admiral had prepared for the occasion. The most important information had been spoken: the cohorts knew who would be called up to the fight. For Peter and the rest of Pluto division, there was to be no glory. It was only to be expected. Pluto division was the youngest. Those in Jupiter Cohort had a whole five years on him. They were men and women in peak of physical condition, fully trained to battle in any scenario. By comparison, Peter knew his cohort were practically babes in arms.

  “So, while a fight is happening right outside our ship, we’re going to be stuck nursing the greens and making sure the water-recycle systems still work.”

  “That’s enough of that,” Alphred chided to whoever had spoken up in the dark. “We have our orders and that’s enough. I do not want to hear any complaints. It’s the rest period, so I shouldn’t be hearing anyone at all.”

  Silence returned to the room, and Peter took another deep breath as he tried to settle himself to sleep. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to be in this fight. He was probably one of the very few on the ship who didn’t want to get in on the action. With his eyes closed, in the dark and the quiet, he could perfectly recapture in his mind the last fight he had seen. His enemy had wanted him dead. That was still new for him. Only twice in his life had anyone tried to end his life: both in the last year. He didn’t want to think back on either of these events, and had tried hard to block them out of his mind over the last months of travel. It was part of the reason he’d thrown himself into creating an ill-advised secret club: he needed the distraction.