The Epherium Chronicles: Embrace

by Wilson, T. D.

  “Really, sir, how so?” Sanchez pulled up a chair next to Hood’s desk.

  Hood stood, walked over to the viewport and stared out at the stars. “Faith has been a strong pillar in my life for as long as I can remember. To be honest, I doubt I could overcome some of the tough trials we faced during the war without it.”

  Hood sighed and looked back at Sanchez. “I normally don’t talk about my beliefs outside of the family. Too many people these days get the wrong impression and instantly come to the conclusion that I’m a religious nutcase or something.” Hood turned back to the viewport again. “Countless stars and billions of galaxies that we can hardly even imagine are spinning around out in the black right now. That kind of creation from our bodies, to our own world, and all the stars and worlds out there can’t just be chance or accident. I think God had a very unique design in mind.” Hood paused and focused in on single star in the distance. “I often wonder if what He gave us wasn’t just to deal with the troubles of our own world and each other, but what lies out there. After all that’s happened over the past few decades, I’m sure of it.”

  “My Nana was a real devout believer, too, but she thought that space would be something that destroyed us, not give us definition,” Sanchez said as he leaned back in his chair. “Me, I’m not sure what to believe. If there’s an afterlife, I’m all for it, but changing who I am to get there, it’s just not me. Probably best to call me an agnostic.”

  “I would couple that with realist,” Hood said. “It keeps you grounded and gives you purpose.”

  Sanchez laughed in agreement and leaned forward his chair. “Sir, I wouldn’t be a realist if I didn’t say this. I got into the war on the tail end and only saw a few mop-up engagements, nothing significant. You have probably the most experience of anyone in the fleet with the Cilik’ti. Back at the academy, the Pluto Station rescue is required reading, but it always seemed too glossed. If you don’t mind me asking, what really happened out there?”

  Hood sighed then slowly nodded his head. He got up from his chair and went to his recessed file cabinet. The second drawer had a separate keypad and bio reader. Hood input his code and pressed his forefinger on the bio reader. The small light above the reader turned green, and the drawer unlocked with a thick click. Hood opened the drawer and pulled out a sealed pouch. The pouch was marked “Epherium Apollo Mission File Classified Ultraviolet.” Hood broke open the seal and removed the data pad from inside. With a solemn nod, Hood powered it on as he walked over to the desk and set it front of Sanchez, who quickly picked up the data pad and opened the only file stored in its memory.

  Hood sat down and crossed his arms in front of him. “I was wondering when you were going to get around to asking that question. Every new command I take on, someone asks, but I’ve always defaulted to the EDF line that it was very similar to the constructed story they teach all new recruits. In light of our mission, I am going to change my stance on the matter.

  “The brass told me they intended to leak the details of what really happened piece meal now that the war was over. I haven’t seen it yet, but for the truth not to come out is a dishonor to all the families of the men and women aboard the Apollo.” Hood stared hard at Sanchez and steeled his voice. “The incident was one of the closely guarded secrets before and during the war. Frankly, I’m tired of keeping it and it’s high time it came out.”

  Sanchez paged through the files on the data pad. He couldn’t believe what he was reading and it showed on his face.

  Hood recognized Sanchez’s amazement and he imagined others would react the same way. “Some people say that strategy wins battles,” he began. “For others, it’s persistence and the will not to be defeated. I say all that’s true, but a good amount of luck and key guesses can decide an engagement. Many great battles in our history were decided on as much. For that battle, we had a lot of luck up front, unfortunately it was all bad.”

  Hood explained to Sanchez that the Apollo was a secret project funded by several nations and all engineered by Epherium. It was Hood’s first assignment out of the academy. He was the Apollo’s Tactical Officer under the command of Captain Horus McElroy, a former Marine drop ship pilot.

  Sanchez continued to look through the file and found a picture of the Apollo in its space dock dated just before the battle. “Wow. This picture definitely seems different than the one I was meant to believe engaged in that fight. You can still see guns partially assembled, and the main sensor array is not even attached.”

  “See what I mean?” Hood replied. “Sometimes it’s better to give the glorified version to the recruits than actually teach history.” Hood sighed and shook his head.

  The files on the data pad detailed almost everything about the engagement, including Hood’s assumption of command after Captain McElroy was incapacitated and Hood’s risky maneuver to jettison detached cobalt reactive missile warheads as a defensive screen. The gambit worked and the Apollo’s gunners successfully fired on one of the warheads. The detonation tore a hole in the Cilik’ti ship and disabled her propulsion.

  But there were details still missing. Sanchez finished reviewing the file and set down the data pad. He had several of questions of his own now, but he could see the pensive look on Hood’s face. It was a mask hiding the anguish he knew his CO felt about that day.

  “I still don’t get it, sir,” Sanchez added. “The whole battle was tactical genius. You turned a disaster into victory over a superior foe. Why all the secrecy?”

  “Plausible deniability,” Hood stated, annunciating each word. “Not to mention that it was first contact, Commander. We were also a project that wasn’t supposed to exist, and no country involved would acknowledge. The brass decided to bury the real story and present one with Epherium as the sole involved party, with the EEF as consultants. If the events spurred outrage, Epherium would take the hit and if not, the countries involved could come out in support of the project and win political points in the process. Epherium agreed, knowing that there was high probability of them coming out a winner in it. They were right.”

  “All nice and neat. Man, I hate politics,” Sanchez said. “So Epherium comes out on top, and you’re labeled a hero.”

  “Yes, all nice and neat, except for the real results. Fourteen crewmen dead and over thirty others severely injured. That’s all on me. In command, we all have decisions that still haunt us. This one is harder, since the real story never existed,” Hood said solemnly.

  Sanchez placed the data pad on Hood’s desk and stood. “Sir, for what it’s worth, you did the right thing. The real facts were that ship was in no condition for a fight, and you were lucky not to walk right into a close range blast from that cannon. You saved the lives of over eighty crewmen on the Apollo when you took command and fought that ship. Not to mention those Marines and civvies on the other two ships. Still sounds like a hero to me. I imagine Captain McElroy would agree.”

  “He did, Commander. His injuries left him paralyzed on his left side, and he retired from the EEF soon after. His testimony was the driving force for me being labeled the Hero of Pluto Station.”

  “Is he still around?”

  “No. He passed away three years ago. I received a message from his wife after his passing thanking me for saving his life, and for giving them many happy years together.”

  “Did she know the whole story?” Sanchez asked.

  “I doubt it, but she’s a pretty smart lady. I’m sure she figured that the story the EEF put out wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.”

  “Hmm,” Sanchez murmured. “There is something about the whole scenario that doesn’t quite add up.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The Cilik’ti ship was a scout ship. It had good speed, maneuverability, and she could jump. It could have easily left at any time. Why risk a confrontation at all? They should have realized that the other ships in orbit would
engage once the maintenance ship called for help.”

  “I wondered that myself, Commander. I know they were searching for pidium, but the motive for the attack is still a mystery. Our lack of communication with them and the continued difficulty in deciphering their language has still left us blind, I’m afraid.” Hood explained as he scooped up the data pad and placed it back into the secure file cabinet.

  “What do you think our chances are against the Cilik’ti, should they show up?” Sanchez asked.

  “This ship is the most advanced in the fleet, Raf. To be honest, I wish we had her at the battle for Europa. I had five cruisers under my command in a fleet of over eighty ships. We outnumbered the Cilik’ti two to one, and it was still an even fight. We managed to drive them off, but a second wave hit us right as we were salvaging and in the middle of search and rescue. I lost three ships in the first salvo of that second assault, and the fleet was lucky to get out with less than fifty percent losses. We had to abandon the station, but the static defenses made them pay for gaining that base.”

  Hood drank the rest of his coffee and placed the mug on his desk. “I would like to think we are much better prepared than we were then. This new particle cannon should really even the odds, and our fighters and other systems are far more advanced than the ones during our last encounters in the war. The Cilik’ti are very methodical in their movements, but they are not the best at force deployments for swift skirmish style engagements. If we do encounter them, it shouldn’t be anything on the scale we saw in the war. With those odds, I am confident we can match them.”

  “I agree, sir, and thanks for trusting me with your story,” Sanchez said as he moved to the door.

  “You’re welcome, Commander. See you on the Command Deck.”

  Sanchez promptly saluted Hood and exited his quarters to oversee the preparation for the ship’s departure.

  Chapter Nine

  EDF Armstrong

  Sunday, January 19

  Earth Year 2155

  2 Hours to First Jump

  Hood entered the Command Deck of the Armstrong very quietly and moved just inside the door of the dimly lit room. The general lighting on the Command Deck was kept at a minimal level, and this allowed each station to have higher visibility of their station consoles and prevented image ghosting on screens. Sanchez noticed him enter and immediately announced to the room in a firm voice. “Captain on deck!”

  Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and quickly snapped to attention. “As you were,” Hood said. As the crew returned to their duties, Hood took some time to survey the crew on the Command Deck. He was no master at reading people’s behavior, but he was able to catch glimpses on faces that confirmed the sense of apprehension Lieutenant Greywalker had informed him of earlier in the day. It was the same feeling he could sense growing within himself, and now was not the time to waver. He straightened his jacket, rolled his head slightly to loosen the tension, and began to tour the room.

  Lieutenant Sienna Aldridge sat calmly at her station and occasionally stroked her black hair with her index finger as she looked over the tactical system readouts. Her ebony skin looked almost bronze in the Command Deck’s lighting, and it was enhanced by her dark navy uniform. She pretended not to notice Hood as he walked up next to her and looked over her shoulder.

  “That Bogo-Indian feint and defend strategy with your knights isn’t going to work. I’m on to you.” Hood whispered to her.

  “We’ll see sir,” she replied with a smile. “Good to see you, Captain.”

  “Same here, Lieutenant. Anything interesting happening?” Hood asked.

  “Just monitoring a search and rescue of a disabled freighter near the asteroid belt. She left the gate and her stabilizers blew. Repair ships have arrived, and a med ship is assisting her wounded. Other than that, a quiet afternoon.”

  “No pirate activity? Most of the more well-known groups have bases in the belt. Why haven’t they gone after that kind of target?” Hood asked.

  “I think that our presence is having a profound impact on their activities. I agree that the freighter would have been a juicy target for them, but any pirate activity or even private conflicts seem to have been put on hold as long as we are on station. While we are in the area, standard EDF assets are more available to move and respond,” Aldridge explained. A new icon appeared on her screen, and Aldridge pointed to the new arrival. “The frigate Elsenor just arrived on the scene and is providing cover for the repair operation.”

  Hood nodded in agreement. “Keep me informed if there are any developments.”

  “If anything happens, you’ll be the first to know, Captain.”

  Hood smiled at his protégé and turned to continue his tour of the Command Deck. He walked past several of the stations, stopping briefly to review status screens and chat briefly with crew members, until he arrived at the one designated for helm and navigational control. Sitting in the primary helmsman station was a young male lieutenant who was calmly performing system checks on his station. Hood paused and watched the young, dark-haired man work diligently through each checklist. The helmsman reminded Hood of himself all those years ago, sitting at his station, running system analysis, not afraid of anything, back before everything changed.

  Hood walked closer to the station. “Lieutenant, what’s our helm status?” he asked.

  The helmsman looked back at Hood, and his eyes grew wide in surprise. He immediately responded nervously, “All systems are fully operational, Captain. Helm response and navigational control operating above required levels.”

  “You’re Lieutenant Sparks, correct?”

  “Yes, sir. George Sparks, Lieutenant First Class.”

  Hood smiled. The Lieutenant seemed to relax just a bit, but Hood could still see him fidgeting in his seat. “Your instructor at the academy is an old friend. She says you’re the best student to ever come out of her navigational theory program. That’s quite a compliment.”

  Sparks placed his hands down the arms of his seat. His palms were sweating, and he calmly wiped them on his legs as he spoke. “Professor Martin is a great instructor, sir. I really learned a great deal in her classes, and she was my advisor in my final two years. I hope to live up to her expectations,” he said.

  “Is this your first assignment, Lieutenant?” Hood asked.

  “No, sir. I served on the frigate Calidon right after I graduated. We did several transport escort runs to Proxima. Mostly small jumps or gate accelerated missions. Once we arrived back at Mars, I was transferred here. I had some studying to do to get used to the Armstrong’s new systems, but I have a good handle on them now.”

  Sanchez motioned to Hood, and he nodded in return. “Looks like I’m up, Lieutenant. Carry on.” Hood moved over to the center Command Station and took his seat. At his own console, Sanchez keyed in the code for a ship-wide broadcast, and a small camera from the ceiling angled toward Hood. The lighting over the central Command Station increased as he leaned over to Hood. “Everything is in order, sir. You can begin whenever you’re ready.”

  Hood stood, keyed the ship-wide comm channel open, a brief alternating tone sounded announcing the broadcast. Everyone on the Command Deck stood and assumed an attentive at ease stance. Hood started out with his traditional greeting to a new crew, but then he paused and looked at his console where his speech was displayed. “I had planned to dazzle you all this afternoon with a story of this ship’s glory, but rather than boring you with the glitzy details, I’ll get right to the heart of what we are about to do.” Some of the crew around the Command Deck grinned and shared some quiet laughs.

  Hood paused again to clear his throat, and his expression turned very serious. “I know that many of you believe we are planning to reinforce the efforts to develop a forward base at Barnard’s Star. I am sorry to inform you that this is not the case. Most of you here are aware of the h
istory made twenty-five years ago, when three colony ships, engineered by the Epherium corporation, left Earth for distant worlds in an effort to develop new and thriving colonies for our people in nearby star systems. It seems those efforts were not wasted. EDF Command received and identified two distinct signals from those potential colonies indicating that the ships have indeed arrived and landed safely.”

  Several of the crew on the Command Deck began look at each other in mild surprise and murmurs and whispers began to fill the room. Hood put up his hands to quell the noise, and the whispering subsided. “I was surprised as you all are today, when I first heard of the development, but it doesn’t change our duty as members of the EDF military. Command has given us a clear and concrete set of directives. Our mission is to venture to these planets, ascertain the situation of the colonists, assist in the development of the colony until a supply lifeline can be established, and protect them from harm. If the situation demands it, we may need to evacuate the colonists.

  “Those colony ships took several years to reach their destination without the aid of space-fold drives. Today, we can reach those planets in roughly a week, given our current recharge times. Based on our orders, we are to proceed as quickly as possible to our first planetary system, but with full jump capabilities. That means the ship will maintain standard recharge times for all batteries. I know this will take longer, but it is with good reason.”

  Hood pressed a button on his console, and an image of an insectoid creature with dark armor was displayed on screens throughout the ship. “Our old enemies, the Cilik’ti, are still out there somewhere. I know that we’ve not encountered them in several years, but it doesn’t mean that we won’t. As part of their mission, each of the colony ships left a series of hyper beacons that transmitted their signals back to Earth. It is quite possible the Cilik’ti have also detected these signals, and in such case, we may be walking into a trap.”

  Hood paused again and added a slight bit of strength to his tone to pick up the crew’s spirit. “These are our people out there ladies and gentlemen. This is what we do. Our forces are better trained, better equipped than ever, and this ship and its crew are the best suited to complete this mission successfully. If the Cilik’ti are out there, I’m fully confident that this ship can defend itself and the colonists against any aggressive act. I don’t intend to let those people suffer at the hands of the Cilik’ti, while we stand by and do nothing, and I fully expect that my crew would feel the same.”