“We are considering all possibilities,” the President replied calmly, “Have you got anything more to add? Anything that might help us understand this disaster and deal with it?”
“Just kill this while we have the chance, Sir.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant, you are dismissed.”
He turned to leave as the delegates behind him launched into discussion, but Jafar stepped out to talk with him at the edge of the room. He was more than happy to hear anything the alien had to say. He was still suspicious of the Cholans, but there were none he would trust more in the Universe than Jafar. He had grown up on the legends of the alien’s battles alongside his ancestor and Taylor, the hero of Earth, a man who seemed all but forgotten now.
“I cannot talk right now, Lieutenant, but I can spare you a few moments when this meeting is over. Meet me in Zenobia’s Garden at 1900 hours, and we will talk further.”
On any other day Jones would have been delighted with an audience with the alien Lord, but he was overwhelmed by everything that was being thrown at him. A nod of agreement was all that he could manage before the alien turned back to the other delegates. Jones had trained and worked beside the Krys before, but Jafar was more imposing than any of them. It wasn’t just his elaborately detailed ceremonial armour, and he didn’t even appear to carry any kind of weapon. It was his height, his presence. He looked and moved like a veteran of the ages, and Jones knew that was exactly what he was.
Jones shook his head in amazement that he had finally got to meet the great Jafar, the first alien ally of the Human race. He turned to leave and was met by the best sight he could have expected. A beautiful woman stood before him in her Navy flight officer’s uniform. Her black hair was tied up and out of the way, and she appeared close to tears upon sight of him. It was his wife, Cynara. She rushed into his arms and held him tight before pulling back to look into his eyes.
"Are you okay? They said you almost died?" she said, tears now pouring down her face.
He smiled as he reached up and wiped the tears from her face.
"Do I look almost dead?"
She shook her head, and he turned and led her away towards his quarters aboard the station. But as she held him close as they walked together, all he could think about was his experience at Kepler. A hundred questions were rolling around his head, and he just prayed Jafar would have some answers for him.
He stepped into his quarters and slumped down onto a small hard sofa in what was more a cupboard than a room. The sofa was also a bed, and a tiny washbasin, shower, and wardrobe lay opposite. Almost every part of the little room was a shade of grey, and there was no decoration of any kind.
"Are these the quarters they gave you?"
"I'm lucky to have gotten this much. You know what premium there is on quarters on Ares 4? I'm surprised I wasn't tossed in with the ORs."
"So when are you coming home?" she asked, sitting down beside him.
He looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"You came out here to serve aboard the Bulwark. She's a wreck right now, and you just barely survived the experience. There's nothing left for you here."
"You're wrong. I have worked all my life to get here. I want to be there when we make history. I want to be a pioneer and a part of something great."
She shook her head in disbelief.
"This is about your family again."
He didn't deny it.
"I know you come from a proud family with a lot of history, but dying in the service of the colonies is not doing service to that name."
"Then what, my ancestors who fought and died for us to be here today, that meant nothing?"
"You know that's not what I meant," she quickly snapped back.
He opened his mouth to speak but realised he was heading for a fight he didn't want or need.
"Let's just see where this takes us okay?" he asked.
She nodded in agreement.
"You really think it is a new race you found?"
"Has to be."
"Meeting the Cholans was one of the best things that ever happened in our lifetimes. Maybe there is hope for peace yet? Who knows what we could learn from such an advanced race?"
Jones stayed silent.
"We can't just accept that this is war," she continued, "We've never known war, and neither did our parents or theirs. The Human race was almost made extinct to win the peace we enjoy today. Are you ready to throw that away so quickly?"
Jones could no longer hold his tongue. He was getting more and more angry as she went on.
"You think I want war? Not that it even matters. If this new race wants war, then it's war. We can't ask them nicely to stop and just all get along. They fired the first shots, and they weren't fired as a warning. They hit hard, and they didn't stop."
"But we don't know that yet. This was one incident. It could be isolated. They could have just felt threatened. I hear some kind of machines attacked you. Maybe it was a programmed response or defence mechanism."
"Where did you hear that?"
"Rumours are rife through the fleet, Will. It's all anyone has talked about these last two days."
"And what do those rumours say?"
"All kinds of things, so nobody really knows what is going on. All we know for sure is the fleet you went out on came back in pieces, and with a lot of dead and wounded. A lot of people are asking a lot of questions and not getting any answers from the fleet. People are getting pretty anxious."
"Anxious? Well, yeah, they should be. We've got big trouble coming our way."
"I wish you would just tell me more about what happened out there. I can't stand being in the dark."
Dark? he thought.
It cast his memory back to the ominous eyes they had seen on screen when the alien vessel made contact with them. It sent a shiver down his spine to think of what kind of monster he was looking at. His imagination was going wild with what sinister or terrifying beast they were dealing with. Cynara could see the horror in his eyes now, and her tone changed completely.
"Maybe you should get some rest?" she asked sympathetically.
It broke Jones out of his dream-like state, but it took him a moment to be fully aware of his surroundings and take in what she had said.
"No...no," he said quietly, "I've been sleeping for two days. Right now, I need information."
He looked at the console on the wall to check the time and sighed impatiently, knowing he should leave for his meeting with Jafar.
"You really should rest, nonetheless," added Cynara.
But he jumped to his feet.
"No, I've got to get to a meeting."
"So soon? I just got here?" she pleaded.
"And I am glad you came. But there is work to be done. We'll talk soon."
With that, he stepped out and strode on at speed. Cynara looked unimpressed, but she knew he would not be stopped. Jones headed for the Garden where Jafar had agreed to meet him. He'd heard of Zenobia’s Garden but never visited. It was one of a handful of artificial gardens on board the vast station built as places of tranquillity for people to relax, especially those still strongly attached to their homes on Earth. He had never felt such an appeal to fresh air and dirt, and didn't find the time or necessity to visit the artificial gardens either.
It was a fifteen-minute walk, and he passed hundreds of military personnel and civilians en route. He had almost reached his destination when a news anchor stepped out in front and blocked his way. A soccer ball shaped drone floated at head height beside the woman with the name of her company. She was smartly dressed in a single piece business suit, and her hair up and fixed so perfectly it looked false. A smile stretched across her face as she approached, but it was so fake it was almost funny.
"Lieutenant Jones? I am Winona Walters, UCNN. Can I have just a few moments of your time?"
"Sorry, Miss Walters, but I am on duty and at work," he replied and side stepped, trying to get past her. But she moved over, and her drone camera blocked h
is path.
"You were aboard the Bulwark on her mission to Kepler-186, were you not?"
Jones sighed.
"I'm not at liberty to divulge operational information, Ma'am."
"But you were aboard the ship, weren't you? Can you provide some explanation as to the critical damage of the vessel, and the fact that you returned without the Bulwark’s two support vessels?"
"No I cannot."
He stepped forward, shoved the drone out of the way, and carried on. The reporter sighed as if to be offended by his actions, but he could not help but feel he was the offended party. Then the sign was before him, 'Zenobia’s Garden.' There was an open archway into the garden, and it was a bizarre sight to see green grass and trees just centimetres away from the steel floors of the station. He stepped inside and instantly noticed how great it smelt. The trees looked real, and he looked up at the sky and sunshine glinting across the tops of the trees fifty metres high. He knew it was artificial, and that much of what was above and in the distance was projected, but it was so effective he found his mind telling him it was real.
He carried on down a smooth path that led into the park to hear the sounds of birds and squirrels running about the scenery. It was similar to a luscious park he had visited in England when he was younger, and later during training. He was entirely immersed in the fake world when he heard his name being called and found Jafar standing in front of him. His two bodyguards stood off in the distance, ensuring they were left in peace.
“Lord Jafar, thank you for seeing me.”
“What can I do for you?”
Jones took a deep breath and tried to think. He’d wanted to meet Jafar for so long and discuss his family’s history, but now his mind couldn’t leave recent events.
“I am sorry, but I am speechless. I just can’t stop thinking about Kepler.”
Jafar nodded slowly.
“Yes, it is a worrying situation. More so than you realise, I think.”
“How can you know that?”
Jafar pointed to his flank, and he turned to see Irala with them as if he had just appeared out of thin air.
“What’s going on here?” Jones asked.
He felt uneasy and couldn’t understand how two such powerful leaders would come to him. Irala looked expressionless and statue like. He was taller than a Human but of much slighter build. But he had presence, and the look of a highly knowledgeable and advanced being.
“Why are you here?” he asked again.
“Lieutenant, during the conference with the Allied leaders, we were honest, though we did not disclose all that we know.”
“Why? And why are you telling me?”
“Does the name Bolormaa mean anything to you?” Irala asked.
“No, should it?”
“I would hope not.”
“What has this got to do with anything?”
“Bolormaa is a name that would strike fear into the heart of any creature, should they know who she is, or was. Bolormaa is a legend among my people. She led her armies throughout the galaxy, destroying all that stood before her.”
Jones’ interest in history sparked is imagination, and he let himself be reeled in.
“When was this?”
“Thousands of years ago. Long before I entered this life, but all of my people know of the Scourge of Bolormaa.”
“The Krys are largely ignorant of this history now, but if you delve deep enough into our history, you will find it,” added Jafar.
“Bolormaa led her people, the Morohta, in a devastating sweep throughout the galaxy. Several races were utterly obliterated by her armies, and the rest of us barely managed to survive. Many great battles were fought, but she could not be beaten,” said Irala.
“So what happened?”
“That is the greatest mystery of our existence, and the question we all seek the answer to, though have been too terrified of what we might one day discover.”
“And how is this relevant now? Why is this so important that you would both come to me?”
Irala held out his hand, and a projection appeared before him. It was the video from the Lieutenant’s camera when he fought the robotic creature about the Bulwark. It made him sick to see it for a second time in the same day.
“That thing, the object that tried to kill you, and the ship you were aboard. We have seen this before.”
Irala pointed to the projection screen that changed to a dark interior room with what looked a lot like the creature, but frozen as if in a photograph, and yet it was a video panning around the object as two Aranui experts were analysing it.
“This is an artefact that has been in our possession for a very long time, and which is documented as having come from the time of the Scourge,” said Irala.
Jones paced closer to the projection to study it more carefully. It was not an exact match to what he saw. It looked a little smaller, with more spindly legs and a shorter body. But it still bore a remarkable resemblance to what he was attacked by. It certainly looked very similar.
“You think this is the same origin?”
Jafar nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell the Council?”
“Because we do not know for certain,” Jafar answered, “And if this is true, it could spark chaos amongst the Allied nations.”
“This Scourge, how were they stopped?”
“They were not stopped,” replied Irala.
“What do you mean? You beat them, right? Or you wouldn’t be here.”
“No. Bolormaa destroyed fleets and armies one after another. Our people fought back for as long as they could, as did others. But we could not win. Then the fighting stopped. The Morohta fleets withdrew and vanished.”
“Just like that? They took you to almost complete destruction and simply stopped?”
Irala nodded.
“And neither of you has any idea why?”
“It is the great unanswered question of our history. Almost so far back that it has been forgotten.”
“There is barely one among my kind who even knows the story of Bolormaa any longer,” Jafar said.
Jones was trying to take in all that he was being told. He suddenly felt very small in the world, despite being pushed to the forefront of events.
“Why are you telling me? You can’t put this on me. It’s too important. You can’t put this on me!”
“Lieutenant Jones.”
He turned and was fixated on the alien Lord.
“I knew your ancestor well. He was a great man, a great fighter, and a great leader. I know that blood flows through your veins, and we need the man that you were born to be.”
Chapter 3
"Lieutenant Jones reporting for duty, Sir."
It was déjà vu, and not the good kind. He was once again stepping onto the bridge of a vessel that was embarking for Kepler-186. It was another Monarch class and was hard to tell apart from the Bulwark, a class of vessels that had always felt like dreadnoughts to Jones until he went to battle in one. The Captain turned to welcome him. She was in her early forties and matched his height. She had light blond hair and a pale complexion, so much so that she appeared Scandinavian, but then she opened her mouth.
"Welcome aboard the Guam, Lieutenant. I am Commander Cohen."
Jones was surprised to hear her speak with a thick South American accent.
"Good to see you're along for the ride."
Jones turned to see Santos off to his side.
"You're not the only one who got patched up," he added.
Jones was glad to see a familiar face, and the Captain reached out his hand in friendship. As he took it, Santos pulled him in close to whisper into his ear.
"I'm not in any doubt as to how we got out of there alive and who pulled it off. I'll not forget it."
Jones nodded in appreciation as Cohen continued.
"As combat leaders with firsthand experience, you are here not just as advisors. Lieutenant, none of us knew what you might find out at Kepler. Most thought y
ou'd find nothing at all, but we were wrong. You weren't prepared for a fight the first time around. That will not be allowed to happen a second time."
She stepped aside and pointed to the screen projected beside her, and Jones looked out to marvel at the fleet, fifteen Human ships, including two more Monarch class vessels. Five Krys vessels, two of which dwarfed their capitol ships, a single Aranui vessel, and three Cholan.
"Impressive," replied Jones.
But he didn't believe the words he was saying. Before his experience in Kepler, he would have thought their fleet was enough to overcome anything, but now he was not so sure.
"Lieutenant, I am giving you command of Charlie Company. Now this may sound very irregular, but you have to remember that our Marine officers have training for this, but they have not seen action. You proved your worth aboard the Bulwark, and I'd like you to do the same for us."
"Yes, Sir."
"The fleet is assembled, Commander. We are all squared away and ready to jump," said the XO.
"Thank you, Captain Nichols."
Jones looked around at all the crew aboard the bridge. They were mostly fresh faced and not long out of the Academy, just like he was. But unlike him, they appeared ignorant of the danger they were about to face.
"Open a channel to the fleet."
The XO nodded to confirm she was live.
"This is the Commander speaking. We are about to begin our journey to Kepler-186, a system that was previously thought to be uninhabited. The Bulwark found that to be untrue and paid a heavy price. We shall not make that mistake. We have assembled the greatest fleet seen in my lifetime. We are prepared. We know the dangers we face, and we have the resources and ability to deal with whatever and whoever may be out there. Whatever it was that struck the Bulwark, we do not know its origins or full strength. If we have to fight, then we'll sure put up a good one. But if this can be resolved peacefully, it will be. Nobody fires on a ship, nobody opens gun ports, or threatens anything we might find there, without my express permission. Let's not pick a fight, but be ready to end one if that time comes. That'll be all, prepare to jump. Cohen out."
Battle Beyond Earth: Resurrection Page 4