by Aaron Hubble
Contents
Title Page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Sojourners
Farpoint Initiative Book Two
by Aaron Hubble
Copyright © 2015 by Aaron Hubble
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, and events appearing or described in this work are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events, is purely coincidental and the product of imagination.
Dedication
To Lillian and Claire,
May you forever be sojourners
On a quest for the Truth
Read Lucas & Evie: A Farpointe Initiative Origin Story
Available Now On Amazon http://goo.gl/g7WiWU
Coming in Fall 2015
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CHAPTER ONE
The voice deadpanned through the receivers in his helmet, “Target acquired. Three indigenous females two kliks to the southwest. All personnel prepare for acquisition.”
“Affirmative, Pilot. Hildr Team ready.”
Making sure his safety harness was ready for a quick release, Andy Dillon keyed in his access code, and the side door of the Valkyrie class assault cruiser slid open, offering him an unobstructed view of the plains beneath him. Tall green grass stretched out in every direction with no end in sight. The wake of the cruiser’s engines rippled and bent the vegetation moving in waves across the savanna.
The lanky form of Isaiah Parker moved to the lift opposite him. Parker checked his long range tranquilizer rifle and then looked up at Dillon, giving him a thumbs-up in the process.
“All set, boss.”
Dillon returned the thumbs-up gesture. “Good hunting, Parker, and no excuses this time about dirt getting in your eyes.”
Parker smirked. “Believe what you want, but I don’t miss unless there are extenuating circumstances.”
“Extenuating?” Dillon raised a mocking eyebrow. “Quit trying to confuse me with your fancy words and get up in the crow’s nest. If we don’t bag some targets this trip, command will make our lives miserable.”
Parker saluted him, “Aye, Commander. I’ll put them down. Make sure you don’t stumble getting out of the door again.”
It was Dillon’s turn to smirk. “Extenuating circumstances.”
The dark-skinned man shook his head as he stepped onto the lift, clipped his safety harness to the railing, and swiped the small touch screen. The lift began its ascent to the perch at the top of the craft. Joking aside, Parker was one of the best shots Dillon had ever seen, and because of his steady hands Hildr Team almost always brought back their quarry.
Dillon checked his rifle’s power level and readjusted his grip. Across from him Aedean Morris did the same. Together the three (along with seven others) made up the heart and soul of Hildr team, named after one of the Norse mythology Valkyries who decided which warriors would die in battle and reach Valhalla. The team had fought together for some time now. Skirmishes in Europe, Africa and North America. And Australia.
Who could forget Australia?
He still couldn’t comprehend how R3, the resistance, could have taken control of a whole continent, pushing well-trained Continental Peace Federation soldiers to the sea. He sighed. The memory of Sydney burning, the resistance cheering, and the CPF barely making it into the boats before the mob got a hold of them still made the bile rise in his throat.
What puzzled him even more was the distrust and hatred for the CPF. They had done so much since the virus and ensuing wars had decimated Earth’s population. Dillon shook his head. Without the CPF, Earth would be a waste land with a dark ages level of society. Personally, he owed them a lot. They’d housed him, fed him, and given him purpose. If only the people of R3 would look at the situation rationally, he thought, they’d understand, they’d see the CPF was only doing what was best for humanity. Including coming light years across space to save them.
Looking into the cockpit, he studied the form that sat there. From this angle he could just make out her shoulders and head; the rest of her body was obscured by the equipment and safety barriers around her. The instrument panel cast a slight blue pallor over her bald head. From the base of her skull a thick black cord snaked from her cranial jack to an interface with the ship’s computer. The new Valkyrie cruisers were the top shelf aircraft of the fleet. They were also somewhat of an experiment to see if the new pilot program could be successful in the field.
In the past, AI pilots had proven untrustworthy. Dillon had always hated stepping onto a ship with no one but a computer manning the controls. While the AIs had superior flying skills, they were unable to make quick, unconventional decisions when necessary, resulting in failed missions and loss of life. The new hybrid pilots were supposed to correct those problems. A human directly connected to every system of the ship, flying through the use of her thoughts and maintaining the ability to think outside of written mission parameters, seemed like the perfect solution. His Pilot had proven trustworthy and competent so far, but she still unnerved him. A person wasn’t supposed to sit so still for that long. The woman had an attractive face, but it was her eyes that really bothered him. Speaking to the Pilot was the worst. Even though a human voice spoke to him, those blank eyes stared through him, giving him the creeps.
As long as the ship stayed in the air, Dillon was okay with the creepy eyes. He just didn’t see himself taking her out for drinks after the mission. Not that he ever saw her outside of the ship anyway.
“Forty-five seconds to target,” her voice came through his helmet once again.
Morris extended a gloved fist toward him, and they exchanged a brief fist-bump.
Morris quipped, “T
ime to earn our keep, Commander.”
“We always do. When she hovers, you follow me out. Dispatch the males quickly and we’ll be back to base in time for the poker game.”
“Roger that,” Morris said. He touched the side of his helmet and a mirrored visor dropped into place, obscuring his face. Dillon did the same and his field of vision was instantly filled with tactical readout information. Altitude and cruising speed of the ship, distance to their objective and weapons targeting assistance all scrolled across the inside of the visor.
Dillon dismissed the information and the visor cleared, allowing his eyes to scan the open grassland. Large rock formations jutted up from the sea of grass. They were truly stunning. Bands of color ran through the rock. What little he’d seen of this planet (HP-397, the scientists called it) had proved to be beautiful, but he wasn’t here to take in the scenery. His orders were clear:
Bring in the indigenous females, eliminate all others.
The scientists and medical doctors needed them for something. He wasn’t sure what exactly they were doing, but he had been told it was vital for the survival of the human race.
That was good enough for him.
The clean air in his lungs and the wide open spaces beat running around some dirty, burned-out city getting shot at by the resistance back on Earth.
Parker’s voice cut off his thoughts. “Visual confirmation of targets.”
“Alright, Parker, you let Pilot know where you need her to put you for clean shots and then alert us when they’re down.”
“Roger, Commander. Pilot, swing to your port fifteen meters. That should get us around this clump of trees,” Parker said.
The Valkyrie hovered briefly before the Pilot obeyed Parker’s instructions.
“Forward video feed,” commanded Dillon. A small box appeared at the top left corner of his visor containing the feed from the forward camera embedded in the nose of the ship. A small stand of trees came into his view.
“Commander,” interrupted Parker. “I’m unable to get a clear shot through the trees. You and the boys will need to flush them out.”
“Understood. Pilot, take us down to within fifteen feet of the ground. We’re going out.” Dillon dismissed the vid feed in his helmet with another command and looked at Morris. “Are you ready for a little exercise?”
Morris gave him the thumb’s-up sign, unstrapped his safety harness and readied himself for the jump. Dillon motioned to the rest of his troops and they did the same.
“Minimum descent achieved. Exit vehicle when ready.”
“Affirmative, Pilot. Back in ten.” Dillon jumped the fifteen feet to the ground, his cybernetically enhanced legs easily absorbing the impact. He found himself hip deep in lush green grass. A brief memory of wheat fields flashed through his mind. The kind he remembered from when he was a child growing up in what had been the Midwest of the United States. Looking up, he saw Morris back-flipping out of the Valkyrie, completing a full three hundred and sixty degree rotation before landing easily next to him. He looked at Morris and raised an eyebrow.
Morris shrugged. “Something I’ve been working on. Call it testing the limits of the new hardware.”
Dillon looked away and shook his head. “Come on, Show-off. They’re in the trees. Do your thing.”
Morris removed a small discus from the pocket of his vest, cocked his right arm and hurled the silver disc toward the trees. The throw was perfect, covering the one hundred or so yards with blinding speed. The disc arced over the stand of trees, and then Morris spoke a command into his helmet.
“Detonate.”
There was a tremendous flash of light and a deafening explosion. Dillon felt the concussion in the air and in his feet as the ground soaked up the vibrations of the firefly grenade. The tops of the trees erupted into flames as the explosion of the firefly sprayed a liquid incendiary into the leaves and branches.
That did the trick.
They came running out of the trees, frightened by the noise, some frantically beating at their burning clothing. A couple rolled on the ground trying to extinguish the fire. Dillon and Morris waited. They knew enough to give Parker time to take down his targets before they began dispatching the males.
On cue, Dillon saw the first female go down, dart protruding from the side of her neck. The second and the third went down equally as fast. Dillon raised his rifle and began to sight in on the remaining men. Well-placed single shots rang out to his left as Morris and the other men began to methodically take out their targets. Dillon felt a twinge of regret for what they were doing. It didn’t seem right to shoot these unarmed men as they were fleeing. They never fought back. They never had any weapons, and they looked so much like humans.
But who was he to question Command?
They knew what they were doing, and it was for the good of the human race and the glory of the Continental Peace Federation. Taking this planet was necessary for the survival of humanity. He was creating a new sickness-free world for those loyal to the CPF to live in. If they didn’t subjugate those who lived here now, it was only a matter of time before Earth became the battlefield.
His target assistance matrix pinged a lock on a light-haired male who was pushing his way through the grass. He switched off the matrix, preferring to do this without assistance. He leveled his rifle, found the man and took a deep breath.
Dillon pulled the trigger and a single shot found its target.
Who was he to question, indeed.
CHAPTER TWO
Calier had been tired and dirty before, but he was sure he’d now reached a new classification of exhausted and filthy.
Before they made their escape from Gadol City, he’d had a decent coating of ash and dirt. Now, four days later, he wasn’t sure if his own mother would be able to recognize him.
Unfortunately, the invaders had picked the rainy season to destroy his world, forcing him and his traveling companions to make their march through the drizzle and mud.
How inconsiderate of them.
He smirked at his own dark humor. It was either that or break down in depression and hopelessness, which just seemed so counterproductive.
However, he did have a new perspective of distances. He’d had no idea the nearest village was so far away from Gadol City. The METS line had spoiled him as to how far apart things were and how much time it took to reach a particular destination. This four day stroll would have taken about an hour on the METS. Granted, they were traveling at night, which slowed their progress, but still, he now better understood his reliance on modern technology.
“Professor. Hey, Professor, hold on for a minute.” Maltoki’s urgent voice caused him to stop and turn around. “It’s Berit. We need to stop and let her rest a bit.”
“Of course.”
Calier had been so wrapped up in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed the young woman was no longer walking at his side but had fallen several yards behind them. With the two moons being obscured by the clouds it was hard to make out her form, but he could tell she was struggling.
His concern for the woman was growing. She had started out this journey fairly strong considering what she had experienced. Her fiancé had died in the initial attack while she suffered serious injury to her face. She needed rest, and lots of it, but that was a luxury they didn’t have. The invading aircraft continued to fly overhead with regularity, forcing them to be vigilant and take cover wherever they could. So far, the ships had flown some distance from them, but it was only a matter of time before they flew closer, and Calier wanted to be under more substantial shelter when that happened. Goal in mind, they had pressed on relentlessly toward the village.
Calier dropped back and offered his arm to the woman. A weak smile crossed her face and she silently thanked him with a nod of her head. Maltoki had moved quickly ahead and found suitable cover at the base of a large rock formation ringed by scrub brush. Calier supported Berit as she slowly lowered herself to the ground. Maltoki had already shed his pack and was offeri
ng Berit his water jug.
“Thank you,” she said after taking a sip from the container. “You men are too good to me.”
Calier dropped his pack to the ground and sat down on top of it. Wincing, he pulled off his soggy dress boots. The heel slapped against the rest of the sole and his finger found the hole that had let in a few rocks. He was sure his clothes were ruined. Calier started to groan. He would need to buy another suit before going back to the university. He paused and immediately realized the absurdity of the thought. Laughter bubbled out of him.
Maltoki and Berit looked at each other, perplexed. “What’s so funny, Professor?”
Calier was laughing so hard he couldn’t speak, but after a moment was able to pull himself together, and point toward his clothes.
“I was just annoyed my best suit is now ruined. How stupid is that!”
Maltoki laughed and then Berit even joined in.
Calier chuckled and shook his head. “I was on my way to the university to deliver a report on my archaeological dig. The meeting was with the board of the antiquities department, so I wore my best suit and dress boots. I wanted to look good for the people who control the funding. Now my clothes are ruined and I’ve missed my meeting.”
Maltoki laughed again. “You should have planned better for the end of the world.”
The laughter trailed off as Calier massaged his sore and blistered feet. Looking seriously at Berit, he said, “You, young lady, need to quit trying to prove your strength. Pushing yourself to the point of exhaustion is not a good plan. You may be small, but we’ll have a hard time carrying you the rest of the way to the village. Let us know when you’re tiring and we’ll stop for a few minutes.”
She nodded and stared at her hands in her lap. A tear glided down her cheek. Calier placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and started to say something, but stopped himself. There was nothing he could say to this woman that would make any difference, so he decided the fatherly touch of his hand would suffice. The time for words would probably come sometime…later.