The Colony
Page 1
“Two tears in a bucket.” - Jack Strong
THE COLONY
John Davis
A science fiction thriller
Copyright 2014 Serenity Valley Publishing
All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America.
Editing: Daniél Lecoq
Special thanks to Paul Doyle. Two tears, my friend.
PROLOGUE
It's been nearly a year since the Ryak folded its command. Our worlds are now controlled by the strong Earth Defense Force. With peace comes expansion, and with expansion comes the need for us to find new worlds. Some for the sole reason of added resources, while others take on a more important role. Colonization. Earth had simply been used to its maximum.
As we began to expand our reaches, lengthening the Milky Way galaxy at a rapid pace by exploring uncharted space, we began to discover amazing things. Places that could have only been imagined in the wildest of dreams.
But in the case of Tanilia Moon, those dreams became nightmares, as we quickly discovered a new definition of evil. A new outlook on fear, unearthing a breed of morally-vicious creatures. The Succubus.
Their name came easily enough, as they seemed to appear just as demons of biblical times. Leaving around them a wake of tragedy, while etching into the memory of survivors a new definition of fear.
But there are those among the Earth Defense Force who do not fear, and they are known universally by three words. Earth Defense Marines. Three words that provide hope against our newly discovered enemies, offering the few survivors of the Tanilia Moon Colony something they are in short supply of. Hope.
As the alarm clock began to sound loudly, bringing Jack from a dream of perfect circumstances, he silently cursed the world around him, finally easing from his rack to prepare for the day ahead.
His senses were immediately awakened as his battle-tested hands splashed cold water to his face, providing an instant cringe. Slowly rubbing his eyes over with intention, he finally glanced to the mirror in front of him.
Lieutenant Jack Strong, Earth Defense Marine Corps. And though it was morning on his hometown of Dallas, he was aboard the Earth Defense High Freedom. A small ship, nearly six-hundred yards in length, the marine ship was typically a first responder. As such was the case today.
Following the signal of a distress beacon, their course had been set for the Tanilia Moon Colony, and though he expected it to be another chase which led them to a faulty beacon, he anticipated the worst. A good soldier always did.
Lieutenant Jack Strong had been a fresh face during the first Sky War, earning his stripes in combat. He'd also served against the Ryak during the second Sky War, and seen his share of combat during both major conflicts.
Through it all, the one lesson he'd learned that served him well, was to always be prepared. This was his ship, his crew of twelve strong who were among the Earth Defense Marine Corps' best. And his objectives were clear.
Land on Tanilia and investigate, then report directly back to Earth Defense Command. As a side note, a retired general was among the settlers, and was to be extracted if the situation was deemed dangerous. Those were his orders.
“Everyone's assembled and ready.” a voice commented, the crackle of a small com system beside Jack's sink.
“Alright, tell them I'll be there in five.” Jack replied, reaching forward to press a button in firmly while doing so.
Standing in place for a few moments, Jack began to think of his family back home, eventually cutting eyes to a small photo across his less than spacious room.
Both of them living the standard life of a military family, at least as much as the suburbs of Dallas could provide. Both of them waiting, and praying, for his safe return.
It was constantly on his mind, seemingly each moment of each day. Just as it was as he prepared for a small meeting with the other soldiers on board, pulling his Earth Defense Marine shirt over a chest of ripped muscle and scar tissue.
“Attention on deck!” Bailey yelled.
Bailey had been the XO of their crew for nearly two years, and had earned the trust of his lieutenant, though he carried the look of a greenhorn straight from boot.
“At ease everybody.” Jack replied, slowly sitting at the military-style table, which was nothing more than a sheet of steel on posts.
“Sir, we're about an hour outside of orbit. I've got us stationary and awaiting your orders.” Chandra said.
She was easy on the eyes, by the standards of a soldier. Dark red hair of shoulder length, manageable curves and a calming smile. She was also the ship's pilot and communications officer.
“Good job,” Jack replied, nodding his approval. “The plan is pretty routine. A team of six will jump down to figure out what in the hell is going on, while a second team of six remains in orbit on standby.”
“You mean we send six down to slap their radio and turn the faulty son of a bitch back on.” Bronson commented.
Everyone seemed to chuckle a bit at the man's joke. He had a way of seeing the humorous side of things, rarely putting his skills as a solider to use. The lack of combat bothered him. Cowboy tough and rough around the edges, the black haired man hungered for the real action of war.
“Calm down,” Jack said, warning his crew a bit. “Even though he's more than likely right, we still need to have our heads in the game.”
Chandra nodded her approval, sliding a glance toward Jack, which was picked up by several of the crew.
It had long been rumored that the two were romantically involved, though rumors were abundant when traveling the fringes of the black.
It had also been rumored that Wesley sharpened his blades with nothing more than his bare hands, though the crew pretty much saw into the bullshit of that story.
Sure, he had two machete-length blades that were damn sharp, the gleam of edges evident as soon as they left sheath. And he had no conventional sharpener to speak of. But each member of the crew was sure that he had something tucked away somewhere. Perhaps laying beside the razor that none had ever seen, but had to exist. His slick-shaven head was testament.
“So, who gets to mingle with the idiots below and who gets stuck on this floating piece of shit?” Bronson asked.
“I'm leading the ground team,” Jack said, turning to stare into his crew. “Bronson, Twiggy, Renaldo, Wesley and Avery are going with me.”
“Ah shit.” Lincoln commented, disgusted that he would remain on board rather than get some fresh air.
“That's enough private!” Bailey warned.
“Bailey will command in my absence,” Jack replied, turning once more to his group. “Chandra, Wilson, Martin, Sayers...and Lincoln,” he added, placing emphasis on the final name as he cast a stare of dare. “You will keep your ass in orbit until otherwise instructed.”
“Yes sir.” Lincoln replied, though he did so with a touch of sarcasm.
“Everybody chow up, then the ground team collects gear. We'll meet up at a chopper in twenty.” Lieutenant Jack Strong ordered, turning to find a bit of food.
“Never understood why they call the damn things choppers,” Bronson said with a devilish grin. “No blades, deep space capable...makes no sense to me.”
“Preach it brother.” Avery replied.
He was a shade taller than Bronson, but equally as cowboy tough. It was as if they had plucked two ranch hands from a primitive moon and squeezed them into Earth Defense Marine uniforms. Though Avery had bleach-blonde hair.
It was considered a hop by everyone military. A simple free-fall out of the larger, orbiting ship, finally becoming a flight of its own as the chopper's thrusters kicked in.
He had been out of boot less than six-months when, on his very first hop, the thrusters never kicked in. He was a private among his crew, the greenest man on board, yet the only one to walk away from the mangled wreckage that had become submerged in water.
The frigid water of Orion Seven had saved his life, but cost those around him. Every single time Jack prepared for a hop, he thought of those who perished in that crash. The same seat positioning inside of the copter. The same lighting. The same calm among the faces of the crew.
“You alright boss?” Renaldo asked, taking a seat beside their lieutenant.
“Yea,” Jack replied, seeming to snap back to reality a bit. “You got everything you need?”
“Sniper rifle, scope...” the thin man replied. “That's it. I travel light.”
“Yea, I guess so.” Jack said with a smile, turning to his other side.
“Just a pistol and explosives here boss.” Twiggy said.
He was rather short for a man of uniform, yet stocky. Of everyone in the unit, Twiggy was certainly the most unkempt, appearing as though he were simply drafted from the streets of cardboard box living.
“Yea, but you're good at what you do.” Jack said with a confident nod.
“Damn right boss.”
“I'm putting us right on top of the beacon. Should be less than a hundred yards away when he hit soil.” Avery said, buckled in the pilot's chair as he turned back to make the needed calculations.
“Alright guys, prepare for the hop. Bronson, keep your com on.” Jackson said, trying to calm his own nerves in the process.
“You got it.” Bronson replied, clicking a button on his shoulder com, a green light brightening.
“You reading us?” the soldier asked, leaning his head to the side a bit as he spoke.
“Loud and clear.” Chandra replied, her voice a soothing tune to the ears of a very nervous Jack Strong.
“Hold the fort down now.” Bronson said with a bit of cockiness, settling in comfortably.
Within an instant, the chopper began a free fall without warning, eventually becoming a dedicated nosedive which brought it closer to the planet's atmosphere.
Please just land. Please just make it. Jack thought, his mind racing back to a time when he and his crew weren't so lucky.
He waited impatiently for the sound of thrusters, thinking of his wife and little girl as a feeling of helplessness surged throughout his entire body.
Where the fuck are the thrusters? Jack wondered, still waiting for a sound that never came. He did, however, begin to hear a loud sound that was nearly ear-shattering. Oh God, not again.
Moments later, however, both of the chopper's thrusters booted into full blaze, the torque of such powerful engines bringing a welcomed relief to the group's leader.
Fuck it. Two tears in a bucket.
“Wooooo!” Renaldo yelled, startling half of the crew with his sudden outburst.
“Avery, what the hell is that sound?” Jack Strong asked, having to do so in a near-yell to overpower it.
“Rain sir. A lot of fucking rain.” Avery replied.
“Yea, no kidding. I can barely hear myself think.” Lieutenant Jack Strong replied.
“I guess we know why these fuckers haven't answered their radios,” Bronson said, tapping his unit several times. “The rain is so thick, I'm not getting anything on here.”
“People,” Jack said, casting a glance to Bronson. “They're people, just like the ones we have waiting for us back home.”
“Wouldn't matter if their coms were satellite dishes, they ain't getting shit out through this rain,” Bronson replied, slowing his emotions a bit. “Sir.”
“He's right LT, I can't see a foot in front of me. The rain is too thick.” Avery added.
“Just double check the calculations. We may not be able to see, but we should be fine once we hit soil.” Jack replied, resting either knowing they would land in one piece.
“Yes sir.” Avery replied, tuning to review his calculations of the colony's beacon.
“What are you talking about? Didn't you guys verify working equipment?” Bailey asked.
“Yes...of course. They were coming in loud and clear.” Chandra replied.
“How can that be? Their com system dropped just like that? And you are still picking up their beacon?”
“Yes sir. It's coming in crystal clear. Looks like they are planning to drop within feet of the colony's beacon.” she replied, turning to verify her statement once more using a set of blue-screened computers.
“Alright,” Bailey said, looking through the hardened glass which lay out in front of the pilot's chair, exposing a swirled-blue planet below them. “Just keep your ears glued to the com. Lieutenant Strong knows how to take care of himself. We'll wait it out, for now.”
“Yes sir.”
“Alright men, listen up.” Jack said, their chopper having finally touched down on the drenched soil of Tanilia Moon.
“You'll have to speak up, we can't hear you over this fucking rain that we're about to march in.” Bronson said loudly.
“Yea, I hear you,” Jack replied with a bit of a grin. “We're all going to get a bit wet, it's why we make the big bucks,” he added, bringing a chuckle throughout the group. “Bronson, you take Twiggy and Avery, head straight for the beacon to have a look see. We'll prep the chopper for an emergency lift, just in case, then we'll catch up to you.”
“You got it boss.” Bronson replied, relishing in the role of calling the shots. Even if it was temporarily, and two a group of merely three.
“Renaldo, you get on the com and try to touch base with our people in orbit one more time. Wesley and I will reset the systems for takeoff.”
“Yes sir,” Renaldo said. “But I'm not sure it will do a lot of good in this atmosphere.”
“It won't,” Bronson commented, the reinforced rear hatch of their chopper opening slowly to expose the thickest rain any of them had ever seen. “But fuck it.”
Two tears in a bucket. Jack thought, nodding to the three men who were departing into a mess of falling water.
Two tears in a bucket. A saying that had stuck with the man since the first Sky War. It had been coined by his XO, Lieutenant Masterson, and had carried them through some of the toughest of times. Times when friends were falling around him to their deaths, almost as quickly as the rain fell on this very day.
Whenever his unit had been up against it during that first war, his XO had pushed them through it with the same phrase.
Nobody knew what it actually meant, and most questioned if Lieutenant Masterson himself actually knew. Still, the catchy words strung together was often times enough, and had forever been etched into the mind of Jack Strong.
Sealing the hatch once more, Jack turned to the remainder of his group. Renaldo and Wesley.
“Nothing doing sir.” Renaldo said, still unable to gain a clear link with their ship in orbit.
“Alright,” Jack replied with a nod. “Record a message to let them know we were unable to make contact because of the rain, then put it on loop. That way, if we get hung up for some reason, they won't come in here guns blazing,” he added, turning to watch the rainfall hammer down through the shatterproof windshield of their chopper. “Cause it's looking pretty damn calm to me.”
“You got it boss.” Renaldo replied.
“Wesley, grab the must have supplies. A few rations, a bit of extra ammunition,” he said, turning back to Renaldo. “And you may want to fetch a thermal scope so we can see in this shit.”
“Already got one attached.” the proud sniper commented with a smile.
“Way to be one step ahead,” Jack replied, his confidence in the soldier verified. “We move out in five.”
-
“I got nothing on thermal.” Renaldo said, his oversized rain suit of solid green seeming to engulf nearly half of the length of the
sniper rifle which he pressed his eye to.
“Alright, keep moving up,” Jack said, motioning Wesley to the front. “I'll be right behind you. Renaldo, cover our six.”
“You got it boss.” the sniper replied, turning to use his thermal on their backside.
“Up ahead. I can see a large door.” Wesley said, his two machetes strapped down to his thighs as he held a semi-automatic rifle in hand.
“That's the spot. Should be where our beacon is, along with the rest of the team,” Jack said, rain showering down around them in the deserted gravel lot of the colony. “Let's check on these people, tell them to answer their damn radio and then get the hell out of here.”
“There's no power.” Wesley said, the group reaching the large door, which was nearly nine-feet in height.
“What?” Jack replied.
“I mean on the door. There's no power. I got the Earth Defense override code right here, but without power I can't punch the damn thing in.” Wesley replied, his voice barely able to penetrate the thundering sound of rainfall.
“Ah shit,” Jack replied, just as tired of the falling water as those in his group. “Try knocking, but do it loudly. Let them know you're an Earth Defense soldier.”
Rather than reply, Wesley began to hammer the flesh of his fist into the thick steel of the door, casting a deep and throaty echo for several hundred yards.
“Got something!” Renaldo said, kneeling as he began to watch the thermal scope with intensity.
“What is it?” Jack asked.
“I dunno LT, but it was moving quickly.”
“Bronson's group?”
“No. I only saw one heat signature, and it was hauling ass.”
“Keep your eye to the scope,” Jack said, turning to Wesley, who continued his loud knock onto the door.
“This is Lieutenant Jack Strong of the Earth Defense Marine Core. I am hereby instructing you to open the door, otherwise we'll have no choice but to cut through it.”