by Travis Hill
The third Kai on the platform was the most interesting. It was the same size as the two winged aliens, except it had two extra arms, and unlike the rest of its species, or the two Kai accompanying it, the creature’s skin was a bright orange. Or pink. It was hard to tell, as it seemed to shift through a soft spectrum between the two. The thing’s head was twice as large as every other Kai, yet its compound eyes were barely one-third the size.
Without a visual prompt that I could see, the tens of thousands of aliens became instantly silent. I confirmed my choice to initiate the All-Stop directive. I felt my heart kick into higher gear when the red numbers flashed and began to count backward.
“It’s done,” I said. “Fourteen and a half minutes to the end of the world.”
The two winged Kai stepped from the platform and took up a position on each side of the cylinder. I wondered if the colored one would make a speech, insult us in its language, or maybe tell a joke and show a holo on a portable screen. No one moved.
“End of the line, kids,” I said and popped the seals on my suit.
“Dana, what the fuck are you doing?” McAdams asked.
“This is it. It’s our time. Let’s give them what they want.”
She remained silent until I had unhooked myself from my suit’s internal systems before popping the seals on her CR-31. I felt self-conscious for some reason and secured the microweave flaps around my genitals. I’m not sure why I felt creeped out by our conquerors seeing my junk. Jordan helped McAdams from her suit, and like a gentleman, looked away while she adjusted her flaps. We stared at each other for a few seconds before she stepped between us, linking her fingers into mine, then her other hand with Jordan’s.
We walked toward the incinerator slowly, deliberately. I knew this was a show, a celebration for the victors, and was determined to have them see me as a proud member of my species, unafraid to accept my fate at the hands of a superior civilization. I finally understood the human desire for vengeance. I welcomed the glee bouncing around in my head at the knowledge that we weren’t going to go out quietly. We’d fought the Kai with everything we could muster, and though we’d killed hundreds of millions, maybe billions of them, it had come to this. One last moment of glory.
We climbed the three steps to the doorway of the cylinder then turned around as a single unit and stared at the mass of aliens gathered around the incinerator. I turned my gaze to one of the winged Kai, studying it as if I had to take an anatomy quiz in the morning. The alien ignored me, its head pointed forward. The only Kai that wasn’t as still as a statue was the odd one. It mewled or cackled or chirped, the sounds too strange for me to compare it to any I’d ever heard. When the strange Kai fell silent, the entire gathered army pounded their weapons into the ground three times. I heard the incinerator’s door slide open behind me in the deafening silence that followed the pounding.
“If you prepared a speech, now is the time,” I said, forcing a maniacal giggle to stay lodged in my guts.
“Fuck you, you fucking pieces of fucking shit!” Jordan shouted. He was composed, as if he were a Coalition political operative standing at a podium. “I hope you fuckers enjoy your victory celebration!”
He looked to Krista, who shook her head, though we both could see the smile she tried to hide. Jordan nodded to me.
“Fuck ‘em,” I said softly.
The three of us shared a group hug and a short kiss, then as one, we stepped backward into the incinerator. The door remained open for almost five full minutes. The Kai army erupted into a wail as the doors began to close. We linked hands in a circle, all of us choosing to look into each other’s eyes one last time. Tears streamed down Krista’s cheeks, and Tyler’s as well. I did my best to hold mine in, but was no better than my friends.
We squeezed one another’s hands as hard as we could when the door clanged shut. The inhuman sound of the alien victory cry became muted, then died out. The hiss of gas being pumped through thousands of nozzles drowned out the rest of the world. I held my breath as long as I could. I tried to keep from panicking, my brain wild with fear as if I were drowning. Krista pulled us close.
“Let go,” she said.
I exhaled, then breathed in deeply. The gas was acrid, cold, and immediately made spots pop before my eyes in the darkness. I felt a rumble, then a loud explosion rocked the incinerator. A second explosion, this one much closer and much louder, reverberated through the cylinder’s metal casing. I took my last breath as the spark below my feet became a wall of fire that consumed me.
AFTERWORD / AUTHOR’S NOTES
Hrmmm… that was a pretty dark and depressing story, wasn’t it?
To be fair, I wrote “End of the Line” in nine days during one of the darkest periods of my adult life (October - November 2014). It probably didn’t help that during my lowest point, I decided it was a good idea to watch the movie “Defiance” (Daniel Craig, Liev Schreiber).
Normally this is where I babble on about this or that after a story. Well… this story was too dark and ugly and depressing for me to think of anything interesting or uplifting to say.
Other than turn the page, I guess.
(Go ahead, turn the page one more time. You didn’t really think I’d leave you hanging with such a bleak, terrible ending, did you?)
LAUNCH SEQUENCE
By Travis Hill
Copyright 2015
ONE
Irina closed the emergency Wire link and stood up. Her legs took her in the direction she needed to go while her mind whirled with the hundreds of possible scenarios that must have happened to initiate the Nightfall directive. She left her quarters and paid no attention to the awkward salutes of the TCN Raiden’s crew as she passed them by in the long corridors. Irina lifted her wrist and punched in the captain’s code.
“Meyer,” said a voice in her earbud.
“Captain Meyer, I need to see you and Admiral Huang immediately,” she said.
“I’m tied up at the moment, Commander. Can it wait?”
“I’m afraid not, Captain. I’m outside the bridge now. Where shall we meet?”
“Okay, hold on,” Meyer said with irritation. “I’ll ping the admiral and we’ll meet in my office.”
“Roger that,” Irina said and closed the link.
She spun on her heel and made her way to the lift, giving a smile to the three ensigns who visibly trembled in her presence. If the command directive she’d just received hadn’t been such a serious matter, she would have flared out her arms and pretended to be the bogeyman just to see the sailors’ reactions. The few times Commander Irina Drazek had done it on other ships she’d been assigned to, the looks and cowers of fear she’d induced were priceless memories, as were the disbelieving receptions of her chuckle-filled apologies and offers of a round of drinks on her.
Nightfall had forced her odd sense of humor into a pitch black dungeon, and once her smile wore off, the sailors nearly pressed themselves into the lift’s walls. Special Operations spooks were scary enough in the stories and rumors passed around by the enlisted crew. In person, even without their battle suits, they were far more intimidating.
The lift reached Deck 4 and whispered to a stop. Irina winked at the three, who did everything they could to avoid looking at her while giving a shaky salute before she stepped out. Her brain continued to run over the directive’s instructions while her feet followed the blue line in the floor that led to Meyer’s door. It slid open before she came to a stop, Meyer waving her in.
“Good morning, Commander,” Admiral Huang said.
Irina heard the annoyance in his voice, and knew it was going to become anger, then rage very soon.
“Admiral Huang, Captain Meyer,” she said, saluting each man. “May I sit? I’m afraid we must have an unpleasant discussion.”
Huang’s eyes immediately narrowed, his semi-fake smile melting into a scowl. Irina knew the admiral distrusted all SpecOps types, especially field agents who seemed to love nothing more than to ruin a perfectly
good plan with orders from five hundred light years away by men and women who sat behind desks instead of inside combat control holo pits.
“By all means, Commander,” the admiral said, holding back the sneer he felt trying to slip out. “What can I do for you?”
“Admiral Huang, I’m sorry for this,” she began. She saw Meyer’s hand swing up, as if to use his comm to call Security. “Please, Captain Meyer, you don’t want to do anything but listen to me.”
He froze his arm halfway to his face, staring daggers at her, but nodded for her to go on.
“Admiral Huang, Captain Meyer, by the orders of the United Coalition Strategic Forces, Initiative #21-NC44L, otherwise known as Operation Nightfall, I must hereby take command of the entire Silver Wing—”
“Bullshit!” Huang cried, jumping out of his chair to tower over the spook. “The fuck you will! Meyer, call Security. Now!”
Irina glanced over at the captain, who still had the comm halfway to his mouth. She shook her head, her face blank.
“Sir,” Meyer said, feeling the helplessness of being caught between a rock and a hard place, “we have to listen to her.”
“No fucking way,” Huang ranted. “I knew when the brass assigned me to this fleet that there was something fishy. Why the fuck even bother to put me in charge if they’re just going to wait until we’re under way to do whatever Special Ops wants to do? Why not just make her the admiral?”
“Are you done, Sir?” Irina asked as politely as she could.
Huang was an extremely competent officer, and was even a pleasant person to be around, but she understood his eruption perfectly well. There wasn’t an officer alive who enjoyed having their command usurped, especially by a lower-ranking officer. Especially by a spook in a branch of the military that very few knew existed.
“Fuck you, Drazek,” Huang growled. “We’re on a combat tour. I don’t have time for your goddamn games. Go tell that to your CO’s.”
“Listen carefully to me, Admiral Huang,” Irina said, standing up, her face inches from the admiral’s. “Here are your choices. Either you relinquish control of this fleet and let me brief you and the captain on Nightfall, or you have me arrested and we’ll deal with this when we make it back to port. While I’m down in the brig, you’ll have time to write up your report to the Core Admirals as to why you allowed twenty thousand human colonists to be slaughtered.”
“No offense, Commander,” Huang said through gritted teeth, “but I don’t give a shit about twenty thousand colonists. We’re headed to Baltari where the Kai have already killed at least fifteen million colonists. Our mission is to help evacuate and provide cover for the millions left who are trying to escape, while kicking the enemy out of the system.”
“Admiral, I’ll only say this once. These twenty thousand colonists are far more important than the sixteen billion humans left spread throughout the colonies. Possibly more important than the nine billion humans still in our home system. Make your choice. Now.”
Irina thought the man would punch her. She wasn’t worried, confident she’d be able to break both of his arms before he knew what had happened, but she hoped he’d not let his pride and his fury override his indoctrination to follow the chain of command.
“Fuck you, Drazek,” he said again, sitting down in the chair opposite hers. “Fine. Command is officially yours, Captain Meyer is our witness.” He glanced at the captain. “I assume you’ve verified that initiative’s authorization codes?”
“Yes, Sir,” Meyer said, extremely interested in what was about to be said. He’d been able to check the auth codes, but not the content of the message. “They check out, straight from Core Admiral Karlsson himself.”
“Great,” Huang said, turning back to Irina. “Then tell us what the fuck this is about, so I can go find a game of poker while you command this little expedition.”
“Admiral, I appreciate that you’re pissed off. However, cut the bullshit and pay attention. This is eyes-only, need-to-know. Right now, that’s the three of us, and SF Command back home. In a few hours, we’ll have to let the fleet CO’s and XO’s in on it, but for the moment, until you digest it and we work out the logistics, it’s not to leave this room.”
Meyer leaned forward, a sudden fluttering in his stomach alerting him that whatever the woman was about to reveal, it would be far more dangerous than the Kai fleet waiting for them at Baltari. Huang’s anger had been replaced by a mix of curiosity and concern.
“As of an hour ago, UCSF Command has ordered the initiation of Operation Nightfall.” She looked at each of them to be sure they were paying attention. “As you know, the Coalition is now losing the war. Badly. We’ve taken far too many heavy losses, and some of the territories we’ve had to cede were primary mining centers and zero-G fabrication hubs. The UCSF brass have drawn up two strategic plans to deal with the eventual collapse of our species.”
“Commander,” Huang scoffed. “I hardly see our entire species being exterminated, regardless of what a single Kai cruiser might have broadcast before going on a killing spree. Have your people already given up?”
“Admiral, grow the fuck up, right now.” The shock on Huang’s face was almost comical. “I know the Navy brass and the Marine brass are full of piss and vinegar, but if you think the Kai aren’t serious about their promise of the complete annihilation of our species, then you haven’t been paying attention and you need to be relieved of your command and stripped of your rank right now. We’re losing this war, Admiral. The Seven are gone, the Hanura are gone, and we’re next. They’ve driven us back almost a thousand light years since The Seven folded a decade ago.”
“I still do not—”
“—No, you do not,” she said, interrupting him with a raised hand. “If you aren’t prepared to accept that we’re on our way out, then you’ll be useless to me, and I’ll have Captain Meyer give you an escort to the brig so he and I can get to work. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Huang said, but without sarcasm.
“Thank you, Admiral. Now, as I was saying, SF Command has drawn up two end-game directives. The first involves Silver Fleet. Captain Meyer, I need you to order the fleet’s connection to the Wire severed. We’ll use our local nets, but we cannot risk communications over the standard Wire channels.”
Meyer stared at her for almost half a minute before she asked, “Captain Meyer, did you hear me?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, his voice quiet. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Captain. It is imperative that we sever all connections with the Coalition while on this mission.”
“What the fuck?” Huang asked, his anger back. “How the hell are we supposed to communicate with Fleet Ops, pull intel updates, or even sync with the calibration relays? We’ll be in the dark and jumping blind, and without intel, we’ll probably jump right into a Kai invasion force.”
“I am well aware of that, Admiral,” Irina said, her voice smooth, unperturbed. “But the order still stands. I cannot reveal any more of the directive until the Wire is cut.”
Meyer tapped on his desk surface, bringing up the interface for fleet-wide Command & Control. “What should I tell the others?” he asked, looking up from his screen.
“Tell them we’re on a temporary blackout, local Wire only, and then coordinate all ship commanders and XO’s to meet here on the Raiden at 1800 hours this evening.”
“Shall I disperse the fleet?” Meyer asked, worried that the Kai might drop in on the fleet while they were bunched together.
“Negative. We’ll be jumping to coordinates I provide after I’ve briefed you, then we’ll disperse. The Kai might still pop in for a visit, but without our connection to the Wire, it should take them a lot more time to pin us down by our FTL drive signatures.”
“We’re going to cut the Wire then start jumping around?” Huang asked.
“Yes.” Irina turned back to the captain. “Cut it.”
Meyer tapped on the screen, sending out a short flash messa
ge to the fleet letting them know the Raiden was taking control of fleet comm systems and shutting down the Wire. He was sure he’d get an earful from the CO’s when they arrived. Crew members weren’t keen on losing their nearly real-time access to loved ones, news, movies, and music from back home.
“Thank you,” she said after checking her wrist comm to verify that all external Wire links were down. “Now for the hard part. Gentlemen, I’m afraid that we won’t be connecting to the Wire ever again.”
“What?” both men asked in unison.
“Before you scream at me, hear me out,” Irina said, holding up a hand. “Operation Nightfall is the first directive, and we must complete it without fail. The reason we’ve cut our Wire access is to make sure the Kai have as difficult a time as possible trying to locate us.”
“This isn’t about twenty thousand colonists, is it, Commander?” Meyer asked, scratching his cheek.
“Actually, Captain, it is about twenty thousand colonists. We’ll rendezvous with five Coalition seedships. Genesis-1 through Genesis-5, each carrying four thousand ordinary, average human volunteers. We’ve scoured the databases to make sure we have the most diverse genetic pool possible, along with one million more DNA samples, to ensure that we don’t resort to inbreeding.”
“Bullshit,” Huang breathed, his eyes staring through Irina as he thought about what she’d said.