Resurrection

by Jeffrey Burger

  “Red One, you are now clear to exfil.”

  ■ ■ ■

  Hovering at roof height with the ramp extended, Red Three jumped from his overwatch position across the gap to the waiting shuttle, catching the outstretched hand of Red Two who pulled him in. Standing just inside the opening, Red One slapped the door switch with the palm of his hand and the ramp lifted, easing his two teammates into the craft. Red One turned back over his shoulder, “He’s in! That’s everybody - head for rendezvous!”

  In response, the floor tilted gently as the hydraulic rams pulled the ramp in tight, sealing the hull. Everyone found seats, belting themselves in - except for the medic who sat on the floor with his kit, next to Jack.

  Laying on his back, an oxygen mask over his face, an IV line running to his arm giving him much-needed fluids and electrolytes, Jack could feel and hear the change in engine thrust. “You can tell that bitch I’m not going back to that clinic,” he muttered, “you’re going to have to kill me…” he groped for the slug-thrower that was no longer on his hip.

  The medic glanced up at Red One with a questioning look and got a simple shrug as a response. “Hmm, time for you to go nite-nite” he commented, fishing a metallic disk out of his kit bag. He peeled the backing off the device and stuck it to Steele’s forehead, taping it once to activate it, a soft blue glow pulsating gently on the REM-inducing node. “He’ll be out in about thirty seconds.”

  ■ ■ ■

  Draza Mac adjusted the rear turret, scanning for targets, “The pickup is up and away Skipper, we’re clear.”

  Lisa nodded inside her helmet, taking one last look at her fiery handiwork, “Ok, let’s bounce, Mac.” She cranked the anti-gravity actuator, the Reaper vaulting straight upward as she nudged the throttle and leaned her flight stick to the right, the ship swinging in an arc as it rose. Rollercoasters had nothing on this ride.

  Following the shuttle up through the atmosphere, heading to a meet-up with the Revenge, gave Lisa time to gather her thoughts. Questions. There were so many. It seemed like an endless list, each one leading to another… the internal conversation she was having with herself was a confusing mess of disjointed fears and concerns. It was going to be difficult to remain quiet during his debriefing. It bothered her that Jack had to be nearly carried to the shuttle, but at least he was alive. She was anxious to find out what happened and where he’d been all this time. How he got here… A lost, out-of-the-way, middle-of-nowhere, shithole.

  ■ ■ ■

  Jack Steele’s eyes fluttered open, rolling around lazily as his mind crept out of the darkness of REM sleep. The ceiling was rather featureless without much to focus on and he turned his head to survey the room. A nurse to one side of his bed, her back to him, made notes of the readouts on the medical screens that monitored him. He rolled his head in the opposite direction, a woman sitting a few feet away, her feet casually propped up on the edge of the bed, watched him closely. She dropped her feet to the floor, stood and moved over to his bedside, “Have a nice little nap, did we?” she said sarcastically.

  His eyes flew open in a moment of recognition, “Lisa!” he smiled. “Man, you are a sight for sore ey…”

  “Knock it off…” she countered with a wave.

  “Wha...?”

  “Knock it off,” she scolded. “Who the hell are you…” she demanded.

  “What the hell do you mean, who am I?”

  She folded her arms across her chest, “Who. Are. You,” she snapped. “You’re certainly not my brother, so who the hell are you, and how did you…”

  “Of course I’m your brother,” he interrupted, “who the hell else would I be?”

  “Good question. Because as I've already stated, you're not my brother.”

  “I don't get it...” Steele shook his head and tried to rub his forehead in dismay, only to find his right hand was handcuffed to the bed rail, “What the hell is this?”

  “Until I get some straight answers out of you, you stay anchored to that bed so I know where to find you.”

  “Well, this is a fine how do you do...” he grumbled. “I never expected this out of my own sister...”

  “Stop calling me that!” she barked, pointing menacingly at him. “You are NOT my bro...”

  “Actually,” interrupted the doctor, as he strolled into the infirmary, “according to our DNA tests, and fingerprint samples, this IS your brother, Ms. Steele. Everything is a complete match.”

  Jack recognized CABL M7, immediately. “Doc! Good to see you!”

  “And you as well, Admiral.”

  “Dammit Doc,” spat Lisa, “I'm telling you this isn't Jack - this isn't my brother!”

  “DNA does not lie, Lieutenant,” he commented calmly.

  She pointed at Jack's face, “Then explain to me why he no longer has an artificial eye. Explain why he no longer has the scars from that day. Explain why he looks younger than he did.”

  “I cannot.”

  “See! Right there...”

  The Computer Assisted Biological Lifeform held up an open hand to stall her rant, “Just because I cannot explain the changes, Lieutenant, does not mean he is not your brother. Remember, he was able to answer all pertinent operational questions and his memory while not perfect, seems to be...”

  Lisa ground her palm into her forehead, “Will you at least admit that the difference is something to be concerned about, something to be investigated?”

  “That seems reasonable,” replied the Doctor.

  “So how are these things physically possible?” she waved at the man who would be her brother, who sat sullenly in his hospital bed, regarding the conversation with a growing ire at being discussed like he was a mere houseplant.

  “Y'know, I'm sitting right fucking here...” he growled, trying to gesture, only to be reminded he was cuffed to the bed, gritting his teeth. “Look, you're not the only ones looking for answers, I'd like to know what the hell is going on too!”

  Leaning on the open doorway to the infirmary, cane in hand, Rikit Lobat smiled. The smile of a man who had all the answers. “He's your brother's clone...”

  ■ ■ ■

  Lisa watched him for a moment, laying in the grass of the Revenge's small garden, staring up at the ceiling, the outside stars projected there - giving one the feeling of being outside in a field, the surrounding live plants freshening the air with flowering sweetness. She was having a difficult time sorting through all the feelings that were running rampant through her mind, playing with her emotions and shaking her base of reasoning. It wasn't his fault, and dammit he was the spitting image of Jack... a few years younger than he should be. His mannerisms, his voice, his memories, all seemed to match exactly - with few exceptions.

  She walked up from behind him, if he took notice, he showed no sign of it. She paused for a moment before sinking to the grass and sitting next to him.

  “I'm sorry.” he said quietly, not taking his eyes off the stars.

  Lisa frowned, “For what?”

  “I'm sorry I'm not really your brother,” he replied.

  “Well, I guess you kinda are...”

  “And that seems to really bother you,” he commented, taking a quick glance in her direction.

  Lisa tossed her hair back, “That's on me. My brother's been missing for some time, and...”

  “I get it,” he said propping himself up on one elbow to turn his attention to her. “And your brother is a lucky man to have a sister who is so dedicated, so loyal. You two seem to have a fierce connection.”

  Lisa smiled, “Well, it wasn't always like that...”

  “I know. I used to tease you a lot, when...” he saw her look and stopped. “I mean he used to...”

  “No,” she waved, “it's OK, they're your memories too, now.”

  He dropped back, looking up at the stars again, “I feel like I'm intruding. Like I've stolen what doesn't belong to me...”

  Lisa laid back on the grass next to him, “No, you are a part of my brother, we
have the same blood - you're part of the family now, like it or not.”

  “Thanks for that.” It was quiet for a while, the two of them watching the universe pass by, before he spoke again; “We'll find him you know.”

  “I know.”

  The man who had decided to call himself Luke Steele, reached over and tugged on a lock of her hair with a mischievous smirk, “For old times sake...”

  With a smile creeping in, she held up her index finger, “You get one - just one - and I hope you enjoyed it, because that was it...”

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  VELORIA, VELORA PRIME SYSTEM : KIDS SAY THE DARNDEST THINGS

  At the top of a hill that rose above the level of the city, backed-up to the edge of a lush forest that showed signs of a recent trim away from the Velorian Palace, its graceful lines and regal stature stood restored and renewed. A long, tree-lined drive snaked down from its front gates, connecting it to the city.

  Surrounding the grand residence and lining the drive, the leaves of the trees bloomed in shades of red and deep burgundy with veins of purple. At night, their photo-reactive canopy of leaves cast soft purple halos on the ground. Though the sun had not yet set, the halos were already visible. The phenomenon was not known to occur anywhere else on Veloria and an accepted legend explained; that the trees, having absorbed the blood of the murdered royal family, came back to life to rejoice in the birth of the new Queen, as a constant reminder to her and the Velorian people that Veloria would survive and flourish.

  It was never lost on Alité that the trees she had grown up with and played under had miraculously chosen to return to life in the national color of the Velorian people.

  Standing under the covered pergola at the entrance to the palace, its columned entrance rising above her, Alité stood on polished marble floors under graceful arched ceilings welcoming visitors into her home, the wide oval courtyard and winding drive filled with all manner of luxury vehicles. In the center of the circular drive the fountain gently babbled, the sparkling water lit from underneath. Sticking to the shadows, mostly unseen, specially trained security teams patrolled the palace grounds.

  Passing between the extravagantly dressed pair of royal guards in gilded armor, standing at the bottom of the approach to the palace like a pair of pillars, Prime Minister Nitram Marconus and his wife, Willamena climbed the winding steps, numbering three, then five, then seven. “You look absolutely radiant this evening, your Majesty…”

  “How kind of you to say so, Boney. You two look simply stunning!” She reached out to hug Willamena, “I love your dress, Willi.”

  The embrace was warm but brief, “Thank you so much,” replied Willamena. “I was just telling Nitram, I am so excited to see what you have planned for this evening, we’re not sure what to expect…”

  “Whatever you have planned,” interjected the Prime Minister, “we truly have a beautiful evening to enjoy it - we couldn’t have asked for better weather.”

  “We are blessed.” Alité checked the TESS unit on her wrist, “Ooo, let’s get our drinks and head to the garden, the sun will be setting soon and we’ll get started.”

  “Have you seen how many people are in the fields outside the city?” asked Boney as they turned toward the entry. “Why, at the bottom of the hill, the field alongside the drive probably has ten-thousand people…”

  Alité smiled, “That’s wonderful! I hope everyone enjoys our anniversary celebration!”

  ■ ■ ■

  The nearly perfect sky had changed from gold to orange, slivers of red and purple, the shadows of a couple stray clouds drifting across the sky as the sun melted into the horizon. Shoulder to shoulder with the Prime Minister, Alité stood at the railing of the palace terrace overlooking the expansive garden, accepting the gaze of the throng of dignitaries, leaders of industry and special guests. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced, “for those of you that are visitors, welcome to Veloria. For the rest of you, welcome to Veloria’s Resurrection! As I say this, we are joined by the rest of our society, near and far, on-planet as well as in space, as we broadcast this celebration, live, so all might celebrate with us on this auspicious occasion...!” She pointed to the setting sun, making everyone turn, “And from the horizon; Flight Director, Lieutenant Commander Garith T'Posh and select graduates of this year’s academy class, members of our newly-formed 42nd Space Squadron…”

  At an altitude of five-hundred feet, a nine-ship forward-V formation appeared, mere shadows at first, gliding nearly silently toward the palace crowd, each with a shimmering blue glow underneath, floating on their anti-gravity systems. Shining in the golden glow of the setting sun, the flight leader vaulted his Cyclone fighter flatly upwards as he passed over the crowd, each row of the flight doing the same in turn, their noses flipping skyward as afterburners lit, rocketing them up and out in a thunderous spiraling arc, trailing fountains of countermeasure flares.

  The dangerous precision formation flying was not lost on the crowd and the opening performance was met with a rolling wave of applause and cheers. A second pass had them playing follow-the-leader in a series of precise maneuvers executed in perfect unison, their glowing anti-gravity panels making them look like fireflies dancing in the evening breeze. Tight formation flying during high-speed aerobatics thrilled the crowd, and the twilight sky filled with stars as they made their final pass at a mere one-hundred-feet; gliding by, single-file, on the blue glow of anti-gravity, their cockpits illuminated from within, saluting the Queen and the crowd as they passed, each one rolling over on a wing, heading back toward the Air and Space Port.

  As the applause faded, fireworks began, wowing the crowd once again. Boney leaned in close, touching Alité’s hand, “Your Majesty, this is wonderful. So joyous,” he smiled. “What do you call these things?” he motioned toward the sky, a deep thump producing a massive spray of color, the crowd cooing in appreciation of its beauty.

  “Fireworks…”

  “Where… how… what made you think of all this?”

  With a wistful expression, Alité’s mind went back in time, “Jack told me once, when we were, um… enjoying a quiet moment after, um…”

  Boney smiled knowingly, nodding his understanding.

  “Anyway, Jack told me it was like fireworks in his brain when we… you know…”

  Boney bobbed his head in contemplation, “Fireworks,” he said, measuring the word, “how interesting.”

  Alité nodded, “Yes. When I asked him to explain, he retrieved something called a cell phone from his things. Looking back, I suppose it reminded me a little of our TESS,” she wiggled her wrist indicating her device. “But nowhere near as advanced as our TESS devices, of course… but he had photos and video of firework displays he had witnessed - so intriguing… So mesmerizing.”

  “Indeed.”

  “They are used in all sorts of celebrations,” she continued, “all over his planet. But he said his country uses them extensively for an event called Independence Day, something they celebrate every year on the same date.”

  “Like a birthday…”

  “A birthday for a whole nation,” she clarified.

  “What a magnificent idea.” Boney pursed his lips, “It is a shame though, he couldn’t be here to see Veloria’s first…”

  Her eyes grew wet, “It is. I want nothing more than to have him here. By my side…”

  “And he will,” offered Willamena, standing close to Boney, “soon.”

  “And when he does,” smiled Alité, “He will have a celebration, just like this,” she swept her arm across the sky, full of fireworks, “just for him.”

  Boney gently squeezed her hand, “He would be just as happy, “he broke into a wry little smile, “with a private fireworks celebration…”

  Alité’s mischievous dancing eyes sparkled with the reflection of color in the sky, “That goes without saying…”

  ■ ■ ■

  The Wronin’s communications officer turned in her seat, “Captain, we have
the green light from the palace…”

  Captain Walt Edgars looked up from the holo-screens on his command chair. “Are all patrol assets in place?”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Then give Lieutenant Commander T'Posh the go ahead for his flight.”

  “Aye, sending the command…”

  “And pipe the live feed of the ceremony to all common areas for anyone who is interested in watching. Record for archive playback – I’m sure those on duty might be interested in seeing it later.” Walt tapped the comm button to the Wronin’s flight control tower, “Mr. Walrick, two additional flights on standby, please.”

  “CAG here, aye Skipper - Red and Gray armed and on standby.”

  “Good man,” the comm beeped as it ended. Walt had to remember to congratulate the queen next time he had her ear, the choice of Walrick for the Wronin’s CAG was a stunning choice. He was sharp, responsive and intuitive; often surpassing command needs and expectations. “Tactical, where is the Hyperion?”

  “Sir, the Hyperion is patrolling the gate to Cariloon as you ordered.” The tactical officer took a moment to inspect the data from the Wronin’s sister ship. “Looks like she has two flights on patrol and two on standby.”

  “Very good,” nodded Walt, “good show.”

  The Hyperion’s new Velorian crew was still learning from their UFW counterparts, who gradually dropped out of service as the new crew adequately fulfilled their positions, returning to the UFW Naval Yard on Tanzia for reassignment. While showing steady progress, there was still a fair concentration of UFW crewmen working and teaching technology-heavy positions, like; propulsion, engineering, maintenance, and flight line duties of all kinds. Velorian graduates of the Wartime and Space Academy, learning from some of the UFW’s best and brightest instructors, quickly filled vacancies in astrometrics, tactical, navigation, communications and command.

  The current UFW pilots were due to be replaced by the newly-graduated 42nd Squadron, joined by a handful of UFW combat veterans approaching retirement, opting for a four-year enlistment with the Velorian Navy. Adrenalin is drug - and some pilots were just not ready to hang up their wings or give up their regular dose of one of the most addictive drugs known to humanity. To those special men and women, the UFW Fleet Command gave their blessings. The Velorian Navy was glad to have them - their experience and guidance indispensable as flight and squadron leaders.