by Mark Tufo
“Shit.”
“Sir?” Iserwan begged to give the order.
“Thirty more seconds,” Paul said through gritted teeth.
“Respectively, General, we don’t have thirty seconds. As it is, we may not survive a buckle jump with the ship damaged to this extent.”
“Then it has been my honor to serve alongside you, Iserwan.”
“Paul, what are you saying?” Beth was looking up at him.
“Ten, nine, eight...” The drive operator was counting down.
“I love you Beth and maybe you love me a little bit, at least I hope. It’s no secret to me that you’ve always wanted to be with Mike. Maybe it’s best this way.”
“Three, two...”
“HOLD!” Paul shouted.
“General, your five minutes has now elapsed. If we want to have any chance of survival we must depart now.”
“Iserwan, stop for a second. When was the last time the Cruiser shot at us?”
“One minute twenty-two.”
“And what was the rate of fire beforehand.”
Iserwan’s damage control officer spoke. “Every forty nine seconds and increasing in frequency.”
The bridge was tense those next couple of minutes. Paul figured he was going to need to see his dentist from clenching his teeth so hard when he got back Earth side. He eased up a bit, finally letting go of the board. “The son of a bitch did it,” he said quietly and laced with hope, although he was not entirely convinced.
Beth was crying.
“Well this makes my admission awkward, doesn’t it?”
Beth ran off the bridge.
“They’ve stopped shooting at our fighters!” the radar operator said.
“Should I target the Cruiser?” Iserwan asked.
“Absolutely not. My best friend is still on that thing. But blow those fucking fighters up!”
Chapter Seven – Mike Journal Entry 04
“I wonder if that worked?” Dee and I were staring at the destroyed remnants of the work station that was labeled “weapons.”
“I, perhaps, could have figured it out in a few more moments had you not shot it up.”
“Dee, the Guardian may have not had a few minutes, and besides, we can’t stay here. Once we left, how long would it have taken the techs on this ship to turn it back on?”
“Valid points Michael, but your ‘destroy first, ask questions later’ attitude could at some point prove detrimental.”
“My mom used to say something like that, I mean not with all the fancy words and it used to involve a backhand or two but something like that. If you could find the one for the ship’s drive that would be fantastic.”
“It is the station two over from you but...”
I blew a series of holes through it. The lights immediately flickered, went out and were replaced by a soft glow that emanated out from the walls themselves.
“I did not quite realize that my words would be so prophetic and so quickly.”
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Much like an Earth automobile, all of the systems on this ship are operated from the power of the drive, from a fully functional operating drive.”
“Umm all of the functions?”
“Yes, Michael.” Dee did a very human gesture as he sat and placed his massive head in his massive hands. I thought about going over and consoling him while rubbing his back but he looked über pissed off and I didn’t want to get too particularly close.
I waited what I figured was an appropriate time. A good ten seconds at least. “How are the glow lights operating?”
“It is like a battery but more of a capacitor that has stored power and is now releasing it to be used for essential functions like scrubbing the air.”
“How much time do we have?”
“Sixteen, possibly eighteen hours.”
“Aw hell, that’s plenty of time to figure out how to get off this ship.”
A deep pounding began to resound off our exit door as troops on the other side looked for a way to get in. It would only take one officer who could access this room and we’d be in the midst of a firefight we could not win. To disable the door, though, gave us no way out. It was death by suffocation or death by bolt. Whereas the firefight was much more glorious, dignified and quicker, once we were out of the way there was a good chance the Progs would be able to get all the systems back on line in a relatively short time. I could not allow that.
“Trill, disable the door.”
He nodded once, understanding the implications. The pounding stopped a few minutes later, to be replaced by a Progerian officer demanding we open the door. Once that stopped, the pounding began anew, but whatever that door was made out of was pretty stout. It sounded like hammering from a city block away. It wasn’t much of a distraction. Only when I thought about who was trying to get in did I get a shiver up my spine. For the most part, my group had come to terms with their lot in life. I was sitting in a chair with my feet propped up; occasionally closing my eyes to see what picture shows were on the back of my eyelids. Dee was pretty much in prayer mode—he had a few of the Genos around him, some who still practiced in secret and others that wanted to know what the forbidden ritual was all about.
Still others were talking animatedly. They looked excited and somewhat happy if I knew anything about the species. It mattered not to them that they were going to die soon, they’d come to terms with that thought from their earliest memories. They’d been taught they were nothing more than a tool for the Progerians, and when their usefulness was done so were their lives. Under Progerian rule dying was easy enough. Living was the hard part. Now that they had a small taste of freedom (ironic considering we were trapped - but that’s just perspective I suppose) they were going to enjoy it.
Chapter Eight - The Guardian
All was silent. The Guardian fighters with help from their mother ship had quickly defeated the Battle Cruiser’s fleet. What was left had slunk back to their own hangar.
“It’s been four hours. Why haven’t we heard anything from him?” Paul asked, more to himself. No one within earshot had an answer.
“How is it possible that he disabled a Battle Cruiser?” Iserwan asked and not for the first time.
“No clue but I don’t put too much past him.”
“It is not possible. How could one human disable an entire Battle Cruiser? Nothing like this has ever happened.”
“Do you doubt one man’s resolve, Iserwan?” Paul was looking for something in the alien’s features. Iserwan had told Paul flatly that he would not fight his own kind when the time came. That he would only command the ship as it was being rebuilt. Paul wondered for a moment what Iserwan might have done had he not been on the ship for the press tour. Iserwan had given his word he would no longer fight against the humans but would handing over the Guardian have broken that promise?
“I do not know what to think. There have been many times over the last few years I have wished we had never found your planet.”
“Why did you engage in battle, Iserwan? Certainly it wasn’t to protect Earth.”
Iserwan paused long and hard, his gaze fixed on Paul. “I do not like humans. You are savage little beasts. I think the universe would be far better off with your kind extinct or under dominion. I fear I have done a great evil by allowing this ship to remain intact. I have given an intergalactic ship to a species that I believe will make the Progerians rule look like an act of kindness.”
“Then why, Iserwan? Do you fear death?”
Iserwan ‘hurrumphed’ and stirred in his seat, looking somewhat agitated. “It is not my death so much as it is the chance that I may never see my family again. Although I am already a traitor twice over to my people, my mate and children will want nothing to do with me and will need to distance themselves as far as possible just to survive. It would have been far better for me to have died in vain I suppose. I have made their lives that much more difficult.”
Paul wanted to argue that I
serwan had a jaded view of humanity if he was just going off of what he’d seen in the arena battles, but human history was strife with conflict, betrayal and murder. Odds were that if they could repel this attack that mankind would indeed strike out on a quest to colonize other planets and it would not be benign exploration like in Star Trek. “Iserwan, you did not do a completely selfish act. You, in part, did what you did to protect the lives of the pilots under you, to give them an opportunity to live out the rest of their lives.”
“In virtual prison.”
“It’s more than you would have allowed us. I do not harbor much love for your kind either, Iserwan. You came to my planet unannounced and uninvited and threatened to take everything from us. If I didn’t need your help as bad as I did, you’d be down in Florida with the rest of your kind.”
Iserwan stood, for a moment appearing as if he was going to let the words instill a red-hot anger into the pit of his heart. He then sat back down, looking deflated. “You are right. No matter your faults, they are yours to work out independent of outside rule. We have no right. It was once, not so long ago, that we would not interfere with sentient beings. The Stryvers changed that, though. They cared little for any populace and we could not afford to let them gain too many resources.”
“Keeping up with the Stryvers? Now that’s rich.”
“I do not understand the reference.”
“Incoming message,” interrupted the communications officer.
“Put it over the speaker,” Iserwan told him.
“Ummm, big ass Battle Cruiser to whoever is listening, hopefully the Guardian. Can you hear me?”
“Mike, is that you?” Paul asked.
“Hey Paulie! How you doing?” Mike asked excitedly. “Great to hear a friendly voice!”
“Is not my voice friendly?” Dee growled behind Mike.
“You keep working on that tone.” Mike turned his head.
“Mike...Mike?”
“Yeah sorry, the natives are surly over here.”
“You alright?”
“We are for now…not sure for how long though. We’ve got enemy at the gates so to speak. Sure could use a little help.”
“Name it, Mike.”
“Any chance you could beam us over?”
“Like in Star Trek?” Paul asked. Paul looked over to Iserwan. “Can we?”
“I do not understand ‘beam us over,’ ” Iserwan said, confused.
“You would tear apart a person to the molecular level wherever they are, have them travel across a beam of light and then reconfigure them in a portal on this ship.”
“You have that kind of technology?” Iserwan asked. “That is incredible. Why have I not seen it before?”
“Ah Mike, I’m going to go with a ‘no’ on the beaming you aboard.”
“Shit. Thought so, figured it was worth a try.”
“Could you give me an idea what’s going on over there?” Paul sat, staring intently at the box, waiting for Mike to speak.
“We got to the nerve center of the ship.”
“Brilliant,” Iserwan interjected quietly.
“I was able to destroy the weapons and because of Drababan’s tardiness I also took out the life support systems.”
“Not so brilliant,” Iserwan stated.
“You dare to blame me for your impetuous actions?” Dee bellowed.
“Well I’m sure as hell not going to blame myself. Maybe next time I’m in a highly sensitive area you’ll act a little quicker, instead of lollygagging about.”
“Perhaps I should take that weapon away from you and bend you over my knee...”
“Boys! This is General Ginson. Can we get back on track here?”
“Sorry, General. He started it,” Mike stated.
“I will destroy you,” Dee rumbled.
“I won’t say it again!” Paul shouted.
There was silence, Paul knew without a shadow of a doubt Mike had just stuck out his tongue at Dee and Dee had returned the middle finger—a gesture which he had just recently learned and thought hilarious to use. Inwardly Paul smiled. “How can we help, Mike?”
“Well that’s the tricky part, buddy. We’re in the middle of this tin can with a bunch of hostiles trying to gain access through the only entry or exit point. We do not have the forces to repel them should they make it through. I’m really calling so I can pass on some final messages.”
“Don’t you fucking dare, Talbot. I will not sit here and listen to your Swan Song. How many do you estimate to be at the doors?”
“All of them I would imagine.”
“A number, Mike. A fucking number. Why do you always have to be a smartass?”
“Hey man, I’m stressed out, sarcasm helps me cope.”
“Why don’t you just drink like everybody else?”
“Four or five hundred or thereabouts.”
“How much air time do you have? And if you say something like ‘until my last breath’ I’m going to come over there and kick your ass myself.”
“Well I was going to say twelve hours but your answer is pretty good as well.”
Paul sharply sucked in some air through his teeth.
“Well that certainly did not sound good.” Mike said.
“Iserwan, could we land shuttles with troops in their hangar?”
“We could certainly land the shuttles but little else. They are heavily guarded with nearly impenetrable embattlements. The personnel and resources we would expend on the endeavor would not be worth the rescue.”
“How about you let me weigh the scales,” Paul chided the Commander. “Maybe I’ll just send up shuttles loaded with Progerians and we’ll see what happens.”
“Boys, boys!” Mike exclaimed. “When you’re done, there are some things I would like to say to my wife and child if that is at all possible. Could you maybe get Tracy on the line?”
Beth had taken this inopportune time to come back onto the bridge, her eyes puffy from crying. “He’s alive?”
“Don’t get your hopes up, it won’t be for long,” Paul said sourly. He was angry with himself for his pettiness but he was about to lose his best friend and he now realized the false premise upon which his marriage was built.
“How could you?” Beth asked.
Neither Paul nor Mike knew to whom she was speaking.
“Mike, I am going to get you out of there.”
“Buddy, I appreciate the sentiment, I truly do and I more hope you’re right. But just in the off chance that I somehow find myself dead in the next few hours I would really like the opportunity to talk to my family.
“You’ve got it. Give me a second so we can make a connection.”
“You planning on breathing down my back like that, Dee? I’m getting soaked in your exhalation.”
“I also wish to speak to my Godchild.”
Paul had tried his best to not take offense when Mike asked if he would share co-God parent rights with Drababan. He’d almost let his prejudice get the best of him and just tell Mike that Drababan could be the sole heir and then had thought better of it.
“Sir, we’re ringing through to her home line now,” the communications officer said to Iserwan.
“Any chance of some privacy?” Mike asked.
As Paul looked to the comm, the officer shook his head. “That’s a negative, Mike.”
“Well, so much for my man-card. Although I won’t have to live with my shame for long.”
The chiming ring echoed throughout the now silent bridge. Tracy’s apprehensive voice answered. “Hello?”
“Hey, baby,” Mike responded.
There was an audible sigh of relief. “You’re alright. I was so worried. The news is reporting on a huge battle going on up there. You can even see it with the naked eye.”
“I’m okay for now, hon.”
“For now?” A waver shimmered her voice.
“I’ve got myself in sort of a pickle.”
“What’s happening, Mike, and how serious is it?”
/> “A Progerian Battle Cruiser showed up. We were going to get our asses kicked and I made an executive decision.”
“Spill it, Mike, don’t sugar coat it.”
“The Progs have these things called Breachers that rip through the hulls of ships. Well, I sort of borrowed one and went into the Battle Cruiser.”
“Oh, Mike.”
“We disabled the ship, hon. We won the day.”
“At what price, Mike?”
Mike paused. “I’m so sorry hon, I’m so sorry to you and Travis. I don’t think we’re going to be able to get out of here.”
“What is it with you saving the world?” she hitched as she spoke the words. She was on the verge of tears.
“It’s sort of my thing. I guess I’ve been typecast.”
“You said ‘we’. Who’s with you?”
“Dee and a bunch of new Genogerian recruits. Tantor died today.”
“Drababan can’t get you out of there?”
“If I could, Tracy, know that I would,” Dee said.
For the first time since the call began Tracy sobbed.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Mike begged.
“I...I just know it’s bad now. That’s the first time in the three years Drababan has known me that he’s used my first name.”
“I have enjoyed my time with Travis, please tell him that his Uncle Drababan loves him very much.”
“Do you mind? This is kind of my time to say goodbye. You’re stealing my thunder.”
“I am merely making sure that my feelings are expressed while they still can be. I do not want things unsaid when I go to meet Gropytheon.”
“Are you done then? I’d really like to talk now.”
“Tracy, your company has been enjoyable as well. I wish to express my gratitude to you for always opening your door to me. I know that you have not always harbored good tidings for me and it is a reflection of your character that you were able to overcome that.”
“You’re really not going to let me get a word in edgewise are you? Friggen lizard.”
“I do not think this is a time to get personal, simian.”
“You have got to be kidding me!” Paul interjected.
“Just how many people are on this call, Mike?” Tracy tearfully asked.