by Ryk Brown
He activated his sensors and scanned the atmosphere. The radiation level was still too high for prolonged exposure, but he didn’t intend on taking long hikes in the desolated landscape. He was only there because it was a good rally point, it was within an hour’s multi-jump range of the Tau Ceti system, and it was someplace that no one ever went. In fact, the current Alliance borders didn’t even include the 72 Herculis system, as it was beyond their current fleet’s one-minute jump range. Besides that, there was nothing left there to defend. Although the Jung had not completely glassed the surface, they had plastered it with enough nukes to make it unlivable for centuries.
If so many other worlds had not been trying to rebuild, more effort might have been made to clean up Tanna and make it livable sooner. But the Jung had done so much damage across the core that the resources to save a distant, obviously doomed, world were just not available. Hence, a massive evacuation had taken place. Less than ten percent of the Tannans had survived. But many swore that someday, their children’s children would return and repopulate their homeworld. Robert honestly hoped they would be able to keep that promise.
Robert used the SAR shuttle’s navigation computer to calculate a course to the old, abandoned evacuation center near Tanna’s capital city. If it was still standing, there would be a flight apron, a nav beacon, and a large hangar that could be sealed up against the radiation outside. It wouldn’t be pretty, but it would be a safe place for the rebel forces from the Pentaurus sector to hold up for a few days.
Robert accepted the course, and loaded it into the auto-flight system and activated it, letting the system take him down into the clouds of Tanna.
* * *
“You’ve got twenty seconds to get that damned hatch open and get him out of there, or we’re all fucked!” Aiden yelled over his comm-set.
“Just do the burn, Captain!” Specialist Leger insisted.
“Shut up, Ledge! Nobody’s asking you!” Aiden barked.
“He’s right, Aiden,” Ken said.
“Eye’s on that track, Kenji,” Aiden barked. “Ten seconds!”
“It’s stuck!” Ali exclaimed.
“Blow the primary!” Aiden reminded her, barely able to contain his frustration.
“Shit!”
“Five seconds!” Aiden warned.
“Roll us, Aiden!” Ken insisted.
“Damn it!” Aiden cursed, pushing his flight control stick hard to the left.
“The missile passed over us!” Ken announced with relief.
Klaxons began to sound and red lights began to flash along the walls of the gunship’s interior.
“Hull breach!” Ash announced.
“Visors down!” Aiden ordered, pulling his helmet visor down and locking it in place.
“Explosive decompression in the starboard gun tunnel!” Ashwini reported. “Sealing it off!”
“Ali!” Aiden called out.
“I’m not getting any vitals from Ali or Ledge!” Sergeant Dagata reported.
“Are you sure?” Aiden demanded.
“They got sucked out, Aiden,” Ashwini told him.
“Dag! Scan outside! See if you can find them!”
“It’s too late, Aiden,” Kenji told him
“They’re gunners! Their visors were closed!”
“More incoming!” Sergeant Dagata warned. “Starboard side, two hundred clicks! Fifteen seconds!”
“We’ve got to jump!” Ken insisted.
“Spinners and flashers!” Aiden ordered. “Ten each! Pop’em now!”
“Popping countermeasures!” Ken replied.
Aiden pushed his flight control stick forward, twisting it to the right at the same time. “Bring all guns on those missiles!” he added. “Just watch out for Ali and Ledge!”
“We’ve got to jump, Aiden!” Ken insisted.
“No!” Aiden argued. “Not if there’s still a chance they’re alive!”
“It’s a fucking simulation, Aiden!” Ken reminded him. “They’re sitting in the airlock, with their comm-sets shut down!”
“Missiles are locked!” Sergeant Dagata cried out.
Aiden pulled his flight control stick back, pushing the main propulsion throttles to full power. Suddenly everything went dead; their flight consoles, their helmet comms, the interior lighting…even the simulated view outside their cockpit windows.
A moment later, the lights came back on.
“You’re all dead,” the controller’s voice announced over their helmet comms.
Aiden leaned back in his flight seat and sighed. “Fuck.”
“You should have jumped the ship before those missiles closed on you,” the controller explained.
“I was afraid the jump fields would kill Specialist Leger,” Aiden defended. “I thought I could shake the missiles and buy Specialist Brim enough time to get the hatch open and get him back inside before we jumped away.”
“You don’t know for sure that Specialist Ledge would not have survived the jump. What you did know for sure was that your ship and your crew would be destroyed if you took another missile hit, while your shields were down…which you just did.”
Aiden removed his helmet and set it aside. “I know.”
“Being captain means making the hard calls,” the controller reminded Aiden. “That means being able to let one die to save many.”
“I know.”
“Then show me that you know.”
“Yes, sir,” Aiden replied.
“If it helps, Captain, I appreciate that you were trying to save me,” Ledge said, as he and Ali stepped into Cobra Three Eight Three’s flight deck.
“Well, I don’t,” Ashwini said. “And I’m pretty sure Dags doesn’t either.” She turned to look at Ken. “How about you, Ensign? You appreciate being dead?”
“Knock it off, Chief,” Ken ordered.
Aiden turned his seat around to face aft, looking at his crew. “I don’t give a damn what the book says. I’m not going to leave anyone behind, not if I don’t have to.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t be in command, sir,” Ashwini stated bluntly.
“You’re out of line, Chief,” Ken warned, backing up his friend.
“And maybe you shouldn’t be on this crew,” Aiden replied, looking straight at his engineer. “We’re a team,” he continued, looking at each of his crew one by one as he spoke. “We take care of each other. We back each other up. We risk our lives for each other. That’s the way it is. We’re a fucking warship, people. We’re going to be attacking ships ten times our size and a hundred times our firepower. I expect you all to do whatever I ask of you, without hesitation. The only way I know of to deserve that kind of loyalty is to promise you that I will not leave you behind. If one of us goes down, we all go down, even if it’s you, Benetti.” He looked back at Chief Benetti. “If that doesn’t work for you, then you’d better transfer off this ship now, before we launch. You got that?”
“Yes, sir,” Chief Benetti replied, begrudgingly.
“Very well,” Aiden said. “Everyone, get back to your stations and set everything back up. We’re going to run this again.”
“How much longer are we going to do this, Captain?” Sergeant Dagata asked. “It’s getting late.”
“We run it until we get it right, or until we can no longer keep our eyes open,” Aiden insisted. “So let’s get this one right.” Aiden turned back around to face forward, picking up his helmet and putting it back on. “Control, Cobra Three Eight Three. I’d like to reset and run this again in five.”
“You want me to order you some sandwiches, or are you guys going to eat the e-rations you have on board?”
“Sandwiches will be fine,” Aiden replied, using the same sarcastic tone as the controller. He looked at Ken. �
�You good?”
“I’m with you, Aiden. You know that.”
“Alright, then, let’s reset.”
* * *
Robert opened the hatch of his shuttle and was immediately met with the foul stench that had become Tanna. Dust swirled about the tarmac, spilling in through the open hatch. He quickly stepped out, closing the hatch behind him. He dropped the half meter to the surface and paused to look around.
The tarmac was dry and dusty, with dead weeds poking up through the many cracks in its surface. The green and brown mountainsides that were once present on Tanna were now brown and gray. If you squinted, you could make out the dried trunks of trees in the distance, like barren needles dotting the landscape, their foliage long dried and fallen.
The sky above was as gray as the tarmac on which Robert stood. Clouds of dirt and ash swirled past, swept up by the winds that constantly scrubbed the surface of this now dead world. Robert wondered if it ever rained on Tanna anymore. It felt as if a single spark could ignite a global fire.
Robert headed for the largest hangar, only fifty meters in front of him. It was an enormous metal structure, the kind that was built rapidly using a kit. It had one massive split door at the front, which was large enough for all of their shuttles to pass through. Jutting out of one side was a secondary building; it was less than half the larger building’s height with a single door and window in front, with more windows along the side. That was where he would start.
Robert quickly moved to the front door of the building, wanting to get out of the radioactive environment as quickly as possible. As expected, the door was unlocked. There was no one left on Tanna to lock it against, and had there been, it was better to leave them access, so that they might benefit from its shelter.
The door opened into a large foyer of sorts. The purpose of the room was immediately evident. To one side there were empty lockers and benches and to the other, decontamination showers.
Robert didn’t bother with decon procedures. The radiation levels outside, although not conducive to long-term survival, were not high enough to warrant the extra effort. He would be here but a few days, most of which would be spent inside.
He moved through the next door. On the other side was yet another foyer, with even more lockers but without showers. This room was where the crews would have changed into their interior clothing.
He passed through that room, as well, and into the next, which was much larger with desks, a long counter, a small kitchenette in the corner, and several chairs along one wall. He looked around but saw nothing of interest, so he proceeded through the next door. He followed the corridor past several empty rooms—possibly examination rooms—until he reached what he was looking for; a door into the main hangar.
The process of evacuation had been to bring evacuees in, decontaminate them, examine them, then load them into a shuttle parked inside the hangar bay. Once loaded, the hangar doors would open and the shuttle would roll out and lift off. It was a standard procedure that all EDF officers had been taught back at the academy. It wasn’t perfect, but it was efficient and quick. Complete decontamination and quarantine procedures would have been observed once the evacuees reached their transport ship in orbit, and then again upon arrival at their destination.
Robert entered the cavernous hangar. It seemed even larger from the inside, and included a decon chamber that was big enough for a single cargo shuttle. He walked out into the middle of the hangar, which was remarkably clean for having been unoccupied for seven years.
Yes, this will do nicely, he thought. Now, he just needed to get his shuttle inside so that he could use it’s reactor to power the facility. His guests would be arriving soon enough.
* * *
Michael Willard stood in the makeshift underground electronics lab, studying the circuit board of the comm-unit that Birk and Cuddy had been working on for the last two days. “You changed the chipset on this yourself?”
“I could’ve done a better job if I had the automated solder rig,” Birk defended.
“No, it looks quite good,” Michael assured him. “I doubt anyone would notice that it wasn’t off-the-shelf gear without special diagnostic equipment. It’s very clean work.”
“Thanks,” Birk replied.
“You haven’t powered it up, yet, have you?”
“Yes, but without the internal antenna attached,” Birk explained. He became defensive when Michael cast a disapproving glance his way. “I had to put power to the board to test it,” he defended. “Besides, without the internal antenna, there is no way the signal would get through all this rock.”
“True enough,” Michael agreed. “But in the future, do not take it upon yourself to make decisions that could affect us all. That is my responsibility.”
“Understood,” Birk agreed apologetically.
“How soon can you test it?” Cuddy wondered.
“That will be difficult,” Michael explained. “We must send two men into the city, far from this facility, in case it is not as secure as you claim.”
“It’s secure,” Cuddy insisted. “I’d bet my life on it.” Both Michael and Birk looked at him. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.”
“How long will it take you to create, say, four more of these?” Michael asked.
“A few days,” Birk replied. “Now that we know how. Faster if we had the rig.”
“If these devices work, then I will get you that soldering rig,” Michael promised. “Good work, gentlemen.”
“Now what?” Birk called to Michael as he turned to leave.
“Now we wait.”
“For how long?” Birk asked impatiently.
“For as long as it takes,” Michael replied, appearing somewhat annoyed.
Birk sighed, rolling his eyes.
“By its very nature, a rebellion is more waiting than it is action,” Michael told them. “Trust me when I say that, eventually, you will prefer the waiting.”
* * *
“How’s the flight training going?” Jessica asked Nathan as she entered the Seiiki’s galley.
“I finally managed a successful launch,” Nathan replied in between sips of tea.
“Just one?” Jessica teased. She opened the cold box and pulled out a piece of omla fruit, taking a bite as she closed the door.
“Yeah, well, Vlad loves to throw curve balls at us.”
“Are you going to be able to get us off Kohara alive?” Jessica jeered as she sat down across the table from him.
“I think I can handle it,” Nathan replied. “Actually, as surprising as it seems, stealing those gunships will probably be the easiest part of this trip.”
“You’re not looking forward to seeing Earth again?” she asked, taking another bite.
“A little. I don’t know,” Nathan continued, “maybe I’m a little worried. There are so many things that could go wrong.”
“Such as?”
“Well, this face, for one,” Nathan said, pointing at himself. “I’m not exactly an unknown on Earth.”
“You’ve been dead for seven years, Nathan,” Jessica said with a small laugh. “No offense, but I’m pretty sure most people have forgotten your face by now.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Nathan admitted. “Then there’s the plane.”
“I thought you said it was still there.”
“It probably is. I mean, it was before I died. But it’s been seven years, Jess.”
“You think your father sold it?”
“Not likely. But he could’ve moved it. Even if he hasn’t, it has been sitting for seven years. Planes need to be flown to stay in good condition.”
“You don’t know that it hasn’t,” Jessica argued. “Didn’t you say that your grandfather used to pay a local pilot to take his plane up every once in a
while, when he didn’t have the time?”
“Yeah, but that was when he was alive. With all his responsibilities, I doubt my father bothered to make similar arrangements. Even if it’s still there, it might not even start.”
“Then we find another means of transportation,” Jessica said. “At the most, we lose a few hours.”
“And increase the risk of being recognized.”
“Jesus, get over yourself, Nathan,” Jessica jeered.
“Sorry. I guess it comes from growing up in a very public family.”
“You know what I think?” Jessica asked.
“I wouldn’t even hazard a guess.”
“I think that you don’t know what you’re going say to your father, and that’s what’s bothering you.”
“So, you’re not bothered by all the things that could go wrong,” Nathan said.
“In spec-ops training, we learn to identify the risks and decide how to mitigate them should they occur. Once you’ve done that, you can analyze the probability of a successful outcome. If the probability is unacceptably low, and the need for a successful outcome is high, then you come up with a new plan.”
“Simple as that.”
“Simple as that,” Jessica repeated. “There are three goals to this mission,” she continued in surprisingly analytical fashion. “Speak to your father, try to convince Abby to join us, and if she agrees, get her off of Earth, and steal a bunch of gunships. Item one hinges on two things: transportation to Winnipeg and help from your sister. If the plane is a no-go, then we have just enough money with us to book passage on high-speed rail. Either way, we get to Winnipeg by the next day.”
“Why not just jump in closer?”
“Because the closer you get to Winnipeg, the tighter the security. Hell, we’re pushing our luck with Vancouver. Japan would have been better, but transportation would have been a nightmare.”
“And item two?” Nathan asked.
“It all hinges on your ability to convince Abby to join us, nothing else. At least not anything that we can control.”