Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles)

by James Jackson

  Akira is sprinting as fast as he can to Daitaro’s position, and catches him just as he is about to break cover. They silently exchange hand signals. It is enough, Daitaro slowly lowers his sniper rifle. His many years of demolitions experience are about to be tested. The pair stealthily retire out of sight.

  No less than five weapons are trained on the passageway that Daitaro was about to exit. Radclyf breathes an inward sigh of relief as the assailants lower their weapons. Having witnessed the ineffectiveness of the sniper rounds, he has been wondering what their best course of action should be. As slowly and silently as is possible, he retreats, then heads to the weapons lockers.

  Meeting up with Akira and Daitaro, he watches as they build a makeshift bomb.

  “Think that will do it?” Radclyf asks doubtfully.

  Daitaro replies seriously. “There is enough explosive here to even damage this ship.”

  Peter joins them, “I figured this was where you were headed.”

  Radclyf has been considering a backup plan. “If this fails, I am going to recommend we drop the navigational shield and purge the hangar deck.”

  Meanwhile on the bridge, Cindy is sitting apprehensively, their communications systems somehow rendered useless. Joe has sealed as many bulkheads as he could, but without any reports of what is going on, they are all operating in the dark. George has connected his suit to the main systems and is trying to glean as much information as he can.

  Finally, a crew member makes it to the bridge. “What’s going on?” He asks, totally bewildered.

  Cindy stands and looks at the crewmen, for the life of her, she cannot recall his name either. “We have been boarded, our soldiers will take care of them.” Even though she says the words with confidence, she casts an unsteady glance at George. She has no idea what the man could do, but so far he has managed to save them from pretty much every disaster. Inwardly she is more scared than at any other time since the launch. The unknown is eating away at her.

  A dull booming sound makes its way to the bridge, and echoes throughout the ship. A faint vibration accompanies the sound, then dissipates with it. Cindy glances around nervously. She is met by frightened faces. The minutes drag on, and still no reports are forthcoming.

  Suddenly, they can all hear a scraping and rasping sound. Joe gulps, then rises from his chair. He gets to the entrance of the bridge just in time to see Peter dragging a badly injured Radclyf inside. Peter has blood flowing from his ears, and his clothes are covered in blood and gore.

  In obvious pain, Peter puts Radclyf down, holds his ears, and reports. “Daitaro and Akira are gone. All the explosion did was knock the raiders down, and put a fair-sized dent in the hangar deck’s floor. A couple of raiders are making their way through the ship, killing everyone they see, and there is nothing we can do to stop them.”

  Cindy looks over at Golward, he seems scared and appears to be crying. She then turns to Joe. “Shut the navigational shields down. Vent the ship.” Unbeknownst to her, this was Radclyf’s contingency plan as well.

  Joe taps his console, but nothing happens. He taps it again, and again. Turning to Cindy, his mouth opens, but he is unable to speak. George suddenly steps back from his own console, surprised that his access has also been denied. A distant scream reaches their ears, it is a long blood curdling scream. George cannot take it any longer, and strides out of the bridge. No one says anything, as there is nothing to say.

  Minutes later, George is standing on a balcony overlooking the hangar area. He is bewildered by the sight. The three circular holes in the ceiling look like dark maws leading into an abyss. The ramp is open, and the navigational shields are operating. A group of six armor clad humanoids are ferrying objects down the ramp and pushing them through the shield, and out into space. One of the space shuttles is missing, another is being moved, revealing the corpse beneath it. He recognizes the maintenance man as the one that used to drive a jeep, the same man that Johnny often talked about. At the thought of his son, he is suddenly overcome by emotion. Other bodies come into view as he leans forward. A massive smudge and dent scores the opening to one of the ground level passageways. Another pair of raiders comes into view, they are absorbing objects in a fashion similar to the Gamin bodysuits.

  The pair of them look up at George, and ignore him. His anger boils to levels he has never before experienced in his life. Bolting down the stairwell as fast as he can, his feet clang noisily on every step. He arrives on the ground level, coming face to face with one of the intruders. The raider’s visor conceals its face, but the invaders intent is clear as a weapon is brought up. Still in a rage, George charges as the weapon’s barrel glows, then glows again. George stumbles as his suit becomes unwieldy, and he collides with the raider. As they fall clumsily, George strikes the armed intruder with his elbow. They both crash to the floor. George rises to see four raiders, each with weapons trained on him. The barrels glow as they fire, his suit suddenly feels very cumbersome, then normal again. George is elated. Their weapons can’t breach this suit, maybe the Gamin have had dealings with these Effen Raiders in the past.

  In sheer desperation, George crafts a specialized cutting tool, one designed to cut and absorb the densest of materials. Rushing forward, his unexpected bravado surprises them long enough for him to slice at one with his makeshift weapon. The raider’s suit unexpectedly splits open, expelling a pale green gas mixed with a dark red liquid. The wounded raider clutches at his chest, desperately trying to stay the inevitable. His associates watch, stunned, as their injured colleague falls to the floor. The surprising turn of events allows George enough time to slice at another, who suddenly clutches at an unexpected gash that appears in his suit. Falling to the floor, body fluids seep out from this raider’s ruined armor as well.

  Peter looks down from his vantage point with fascination. With two of their kind dispatched in seconds, the invaders are clearly stumped. Oh no, he thinks as they from a circle around George. As they rush in, Peter puts a hand to his mouth. There is nothing he can do to save his friend. The group form a tangled mess of armor-clad bodies. Out from the mess rises George. Peter is about to cheer, until he sees that George is being lifted up, and carried on his back. The group hurries down the ramp, and then tosses George through the shield, and out into space. Peter is momentarily stunned by what he has just witnessed. He looks at the chaos on the floor far below, and sees two dead raiders, but now George is gone. Looking up, he grins like a mad man as a wild idea comes to mind. After one more glance downward, he bolts as fast as he can to the bridge. May fortune favor the foolish, is what crosses his mind as he sprints as though his very life depended up it.

  George looks out through his faceplate at the macabre scene before him. The Terran hangs in space with an unusual looking spaceship parked beneath its engines, right behind the open ramp. Crates, barrels, and even the shuttle Atlanta, are being drawn toward the smaller spaceship as if by some unseen force. Drifting past the alien spaceship, he can see what appears to be many smaller craft docked to it. They look just like the pair that landed on the forward section of the Terran. An alert sounds in his helmet, a millisecond before he is struck by a beam of sorts. The energy washes over his suit harmlessly. His elated grin is short lived however, as momentum slowly flips him over. He looks at the nearby planet with its Earth-like atmosphere, and gulps. He is headed straight for it, and there is nothing he can do about it.

  Golward begins some sort of crooning as he paces back and forth. Henry has arrived on the bridge to patch up Radclyf’s injuries. He glances back and forth doubtfully, their situation seems hopeless. Olaf has not been idle either, the mighty Russian has been using his suit to seal the blast doors shut, entombing him in reactor control with a few brave volunteers. He stations a single person at each sealed doorway, as he continues to make preparations for the worst. Patrick, not sure what he can do, gets into his bodysuit and makes his way to the bridge as well.

  George’s visor darkens as he strikes the planet’s up
per atmosphere, the suit efficiently warning him of increased heat levels along with diminishing energy reserves. Think, think. The outer surface of his suit starts to glow as he free falls. Ah, ha. Chastising himself for not thinking of it earlier, he uses the suit to quickly craft a basic heat shield. It works, he begins to slow, and starts to skim across the atmosphere, like a stone skipping across a pond, his descent is slowed, but not stopped. A radical idea comes to mind as he racks his brains for options. Crafting a small ion motor to the left side of the heat shield, he connects his suit’s left arm directly to it. With a gulp, he powers it up using suit’s energy reserves. He test fires the engine and is elated when it works, putting him in a slow spin, he quickly shuts it down and creates a second engine on the right wing. Adding a pivot to the bottom of each small reaction motor, he hurries to complete his work.

  Peter is out of breath as he stumbles onto the bridge, the area is packed with people and Kord alike. He quickly reports, “George killed two raiders, then they picked him up and threw him out into space.” Peter gasps.

  Cindy’s jaw drops in shock, George is dead. Noooo…

  Peter continues between gasps for breath. “Golward, I need nine of your people to put on the Gamin bodysuits we found. Patrick, I need your help as well.”

  Everyone stares at Peter as though he were a mad man.

  “Please hurry,” Peter begs, “we’re all dead if we don’t do this.” His eyes plead as he stares at Golward.

  The small furry alien replies quietly. “We will help. What is it you want us to do, exactly?”

  George is getting pretty hot as his efforts are taking longer than he would like. Finally, he is ready. Ramming the end of each arm into the sides of the small ion engines, he powers them up. Lifting his arms up and down, he can control the angle a little, and by varying the thrust, he can turn. Transferring raw energy to them from the suit, he skips one more time on the atmosphere, and then powers away from the planet. The suit’s energy reserves drop alarmingly fast as he maneuvers to face the Terran. Won’t they be in for a surprise! He is almost to the open ramp, when suddenly something hits him hard. An immense pain rushes through his whole body, and then mercifully, he blacks out.

  Peter stares with pride at the brave little Kord before him. They are each wearing a small Gamin bodysuit. Even though none fit in them well, and all are definitely being made quite ill, they are stoically following Peter’s instructions. Patrick looks doubtfully at the Kord. None of them can use any of the suit’s functions, in fact, they can barely walk in them.

  Peter grins as he gets Patrick’s attention. “Don’t worry, they don’t have to do anything. You do. We’re going to bluff the raiders! Follow me.”

  Peter leads the motley group out of the bridge, and heads toward the hangar deck. Along the way they pass many frightened crew members. Emma stands with her two assistants, watching with trepidation as the party clomps awkwardly by. Patrick’s old friend Jeremiah trails the group, his curiosity getting the better of him. Stopping one more time, Peter assigns them all tasks. Spotting Jeremiah, he nods to him and says, “Help our little friends get in position.”

  “Sure, will do.” Jeremiah replies with confidence, even though he feels doubtful of their plan.

  George wakes groggily and cannot understand how it is that he is floating amongst some pretty looking white clouds. The clouds fall away from him, revealing a beautiful blue sky. Beyond this, little sparkles can be seen in the distance. I am falling! He realizes with dismay. With some difficulty, he manages to orient himself so that he is looking at the ground. Oh, that was smart, he thinks as the planet below rushes up to meet him. Feeling violently ill, he notices that the suit’s main energy reserves are depleted, luckily his attached backup pack is still functioning. He starts to craft a wing, to slow his descent, but in doing so, he begins to tumble over and over. Fighting vertigo and his desire to black out once more, he persists in crafting the wing. Finally, it is large enough that he can lay over it and begin to glide. Though he has arrested his free fall, he is still descending at an alarming rate.

  Peter walks along with Patrick, while the Kord fan out to their assigned positions. Jeremiah follows the Kord and comes upon the rifle discarded by Akira. Even though he knows it is a futile gesture, he picks it up anyway, and feels some comfort at not being totally defenseless. Frightened crew rush past the group, it seems at least two of the raiders are making their way upward. Peter tells one of these terrified crewmen to warn the bridge.

  Falling fast, George gazes downward to see what he is going to go crash into. Far below is an ocean that ends at a wide beach, with huge sandy dunes. Beyond the beach is a forest of green foliage. The trees give way to a plain that extends to a distant mountain range. Looking downward again, then following his trajectory, he can see that he is going to miss the water and land somewhere in the forest, at its edge. As the ground rushes up, he can see that he is still falling way too fast. He tilts the wing a little, and manages to turn toward the ocean.

  Patrick bravely steps out onto the hangar deck. The five raiders present turn to him, just as the nine suited Kord reveal themselves. Patrick looks up and smiles, they are dotted about, each one on a different level. He hopes that the raiders think these are but the first to arrive, with others yet to come. Peter is keeping himself concealed, while Patrick strides toward the raiders. They fan out while glancing at the Kord above. Jeremiah lays down on an upper level, and slides the rifle forward until one of the raiders is in his sights.

  George’s efforts are too little, and too late, I am not going to make it. He realizes. With dread, he sees a massive sand dune rushing up to meet him. He hits the side of the dune with considerable force, skimming down it fast. Hanging on for dear life, speed bleeds away as he bumps and slides his way down the side of this massive sand dune. The wing, with him on it, comes to the base of the dune and strikes the beach. The nose of the wing buries itself into the sand, violently flinging George. He rolls over and over, finally coming to rest. He lays there, on his back, weak and disoriented.

  On the ship, Peter lays even lower as two more raiders come running from a different side passage. As they rush into the main hangar, three lines drop from the holes above. The raiders stride purposely toward the lines, then, holding on to unseen grips, are lifted up. They leave their dead behind without so much as a second glance. The last one to appear is their leader, his battle-scarred suit still impressive, even as it ascends in retreat. Jeremiah sights the rifle on the impressive figure, and fires. The bullet grazes the man’s hand, but does not knock him off. The man points a finger at Jeremiah threateningly, then disappears into one of the holes above. Less than a second after they have gone, a number of small objects fall from the holes. Peter does not have to guess what these are.

  “RUN!” Peter shouts as loud as he can. He gets up and sprints for all his worth. Quickly running out of breath, he regrets having picked up smoking a pipe.

  Jeremiah gets up to run, but his legs will not hold him up. He collapses to the deck, his chest hurts. He starts to crawl away, slowly and painfully, his breaths growing raspy.

  Down on the planet below, George tries to breathe in shallow breaths. He hurts in more places than he thought possible. He knows that if it were not for the suit, he would not be alive at all right now. While laying there, the suit is busy churning through its remaining power reserves, injecting him with a variety of stimulants, chemicals, painkillers, and is even grafting new skin. He has no idea how badly injured he really is, just that he is very tired. He relaxes and closes his eyes for a moment.

  Patrick is staring upward as the small packages fall toward him. Oh Crap! He turns to leave the hangar, but does not get very far. The first explosion knocks him off his feet, the second tosses him brutally into a wall. The third detonates the rocket fuel storage tanks in the walls. The ensuing blast is as catastrophic, as it is epic. It literally rocks the Terran, shreds internal walls, and buckles a number of superstructure supports. The out
er hull plates groan and bulge, but somehow contain the blast’s energies. The fireball travels up the three holes in the ceiling, and out the still open ramp. Even though Patrick is wearing the bodysuit, the blast wave still knocks him senseless. The Kord, having been near passageways, avoid the brunt of the devastating blasts, and even manage to out run the ensuring fireball. Sheer terror proves to be a strong motivator, no matter the race.

  A distant flash catches George’s sleepy eyes, a brief flicker in the sky that reminds him of the plight of those on board the Terran. He sluggishly activates his communicator. “Cindy, Joe, anyone there?” He says weakly.

  The message surprises everyone as it travels throughout the entire ship. Cindy and Joe are with the rest of the command crew. They all abandoned the bridge a few minutes earlier, having heeded a warning by a very scared crewman. Joe looks at Cindy in surprise, last they heard, raiders were making their way upward, hence the order to abandon the bridge.

  “George is alive!” Joe says in surprise. The message further astounds him, forcing the question, “Coms are back?”

  Joe runs, back toward the bridge, reluctantly being trailed by the rest of the command crew. Arriving, Joe spots a trail of debris ejecting from two locations in the forward hull. Quickly scanning the ship’s systems, he learns the extent of the damage in the main hangar deck as well. He taps a number of symbols, shutting additional bulk heads in order to stop the hemorrhaging of their atmosphere. The ramp is the only place on the ship that the navigational shields seem able to hold the air in, however, the holes in the ceiling are another matter entirely. Suddenly, everyone on board feels a thump from the rear of the ship, then another from the side, and another. The impacts send a chill through all on board.