by Dean M. Cole
"Admiral!" Commander Levy said, looking up with wide-eyes. "The fighter pilots are reporting the same thing. Their fire-control computers went dark!"
A message flashed through Johnston's EON. The alert he'd programmed had triggered, but before he could say a word, a familiar voice boomed godlike across the bridge.
"Galactic Guardian, this is Phoenix Six, over."
Every person on the bridge stopped moving. A shocked silence fell over the room. Confused faces turned toward the ceiling. No voices had ever broadcast within this hall. Johnston hadn't known it was possible. A smile spread across his face. He magnified the far side of the hologram. Now it depicted a recognizable fleet of green ships.
"Galactic Guardian," the booming voice continued. "This is Colonel Allison. Greetings from the Helm Warden, flagship of the Galactic Defense Forces."
Johnston leaned back into his seat and released a long, relieved sigh. Unicorns and Gummy Bears, indeed, he thought.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
"Turtle One, this is Departure Control. You are cleared to Helm Warden as filed. Godspeed, sir," said the space traffic controller over the flight-following EON channel.
"Roger, Departure Control. Turtle One, cleared as filed. Thanks," Jake said as he maneuvered the small vessel through the hangar's force field and into the vacuum of space.
A three-dimensional holographic rendering of the now doubled fleet floated above the control console. Between the pedestal's concave glass top and the ten-foot-high ceiling, hundreds of ships of every size and shape crowded the display. Jake reached into the hologram with both arms. Grabbing the top and bottom of the largest ship, he spread his hands, and the vessel swelled like an accordion, magnifying the image and zooming in the point of view. Still gripping the virtual carrier, Jake rotated it until the rear hangar entrance of the Helm Warden faced the group. As he turned the vessel, the few ships still in the field of view circled the Turtle's interior like rides on a city-sized merry-go-round. When he released the carrier, all of the luminescent green ships stopped and hovered motionlessly. Jake extended his right index finger and poked the hangar entrance. An oilcan pop and a short series of concentric rings radiated from the point of contact.
As the ship began its short journey, Jake announced, "The autopilot is programmed. We are underway, sirs."
General Pearson shook his head. "I wish my F-16 fighter would've had one of those back in the day," he said. "It would've made some of those Desert Storm flights a little less stressful." Turning to the admiral, he lowered his voice so that only Jake and the older gentleman could hear him. "Well, Bill, what do you think we're in for on this Argonian flagship?"
Admiral Johnston's face darkened. "I wish I knew. Jesus Christ, the poor son of a bitch just found out he's lost tens of thousands of people." He paused. After a moment of silent contemplation, the admiral continued. "But I think we're on firm ground here, Charlie. Colonel Allison wasn't able to say much, and we are still locked out of the weapons systems, but those are the same measures I'd take in their place."
"Agreed," General Pearson said in his deep East Texas drawl. "If they thought we posed a threat, they could've eliminated us the moment they discovered us aboard their ships. If they can remotely deactivate the weapons, they could've just as easily vented the ship's atmosphere to space—then or at any moment since. Hell, the fact that they haven't boarded us makes me think they're inclined to let us retain control, at least for now."
Admiral Johnston rubbed his thin, weathered face. "I hope you're right, Charlie. I have no desire to sit by idly when the next attack comes."
General Pearson nodded. "You're right about the loss of his people. The biggest variable is the GDF commander's response. Did he already know or, at least, have a clue?"
The three men fell silent. For Jake, the admiral's comment had dredged up memories of their own losses. He supposed it had done the same for the two men as well.
Ahead, the Helm Warden gradually filled the Turtle's view-wall. It looked like a somewhat larger version of the Galactic Guardian. Jake made a couple of minor trajectory adjustments to the flight director's approach profile. Not that the autopilot couldn't handle the maneuver, he just liked to maintain some semblance of pilot input. On final approach, about a mile from the hangar entrance, the Helm Warden's tractor beam took over.
Speaking in English, a strangely accented voice addressed Jake over the EON space traffic control channel. "Turtle One, we will bring you in from there."
"Roger … I mean, okay …" Crap! Jake thought. He had no idea what "Roger" or "okay" would mean to an English-speaking Argonian. Finally, he shrugged and said, "That is acceptable, Helm Warden."
After a brief pause, the amused, accented voice on the other end said, "Roger, Turtle One." He emphasized "Roger" in a way that indicated he knew exactly what it meant.
A moment later, the carrier's tractor beam dragged the Turtle into the hangar's gaping maw like an insect being drawn into a frog's waiting mouth in slow motion. As they passed into the massive facility, they silently stared through the view-wall. The expansive twin hangar bays looked similar to those in the Galactic Guardian, only bigger.
General Pearson broke the silence. "Well, what do you know?" He pointed to an apparent dignitary and his formation of ornately dressed Argonian honor guards. "Looks like we're getting the red carpet treatment after all."
Admiral Johnston nodded. "You weren't kidding about their flamboyant uniforms."
Eyeing the group, General Pearson grinned distractedly and nodded. "Yeah, those are the ones, but I don't recognize the older fella."
At that moment, Jake didn't give two shits about uniforms or who knew who. He was just happy to see Sandy and Richard unharmed. They stood off to the left of the Argonians. He still didn't know the circumstances of their encounter with the GDF, but from the time his wing had launched to intercept an unknown force until this very moment, he'd agonized over Sandy's status. After the initial radio call from the Helm Warden, Richard had assured them that they were okay. But Jake had needed to see her with his own eyes. They had only been apart for a few hours, but the relief of seeing her standing next to Richard and the welcoming party sent a huge smile across Jake's face.
While it was impossible for Sandy to see him through the ship's skin, she seemed to peer through it, looking directly into Jake's eyes.
The Turtle glided through a ninety-degree rotation. Orienting its airlock toward the left wall, the small vessel nestled into the hangar deck.
Jake shut down the Turtle's systems and stepped into the airlock, Colonel Newcastle at his side, the Admiral and General close behind. When the outer hull opened, they exited the small chamber. Richard and Sandy stood at attention directly across from them. Twenty feet to the right of the pair, the apparent honor guard stood motionlessly. Next to them, the tall officer whom Jake had pegged as the commander kept his distance for the moment. His eyes had the glazed-over thousand-yard stare of someone engaged in a silent conversation over an EON channel.
Richard saluted. "Welcome aboard, sirs."
Admiral Johnston returned the greeting and then lowered his arm. "At ease, Colonel." The admiral stepped closer and cast a quick glance at the Argonians. "What's our situation?"
Richard and Sandra's postures lost their rigidity as each followed Johnston's order and took on a more comfortable stance. However, their faces remained inscrutable. Richard said, "Sir, the Argonian commander requested that we allow him to brief you, but I think it is safe to say they are impressed with our progress. Although they're still … adjusting to the news of the loss of the fleet's personnel."
Finally, Sandy gave Jake an excited look that told him all was as good as it could be, given the circumstances. He still didn't know how the Helm Warden had stumbled across the 1st Fighter Wing. He couldn't wait to hear about that encounter, not to mention the outcome of their battle drill. He hoped it had gone well.
Speaking in English, an Argonian-accented voice interrupted his tho
ughts. "I suppose you are Lieutenant Colonel Giard."
Jake turned and came face to face with the stately gentleman he'd seen earlier. The man carried himself with an air of authority. On the surface, he appeared ordinary: slightly taller than Jake, graying at the temples of his mid-length, wavy brown hair. However, his eyes beamed with intelligence and authority.
"Yes, sir," Jake said. Anxious to divert attention from himself, he held out a hand toward his commanding officers. "Please allow me to introduce General Pearson and Admiral Johnston, commanders of Earth's defense forces."
The Argonian commander gave each a curt nod.
The exaggerated colors and flamboyant, almost cheesy cut of the officer's uniform would have looked at home on the set of a 1970s science fiction television series. Smiling inwardly, Jake half-wondered if someone had shown an Argonian uniform to the costume director for Buck Rogers in the 25th Century.
The GDF officer turned back to Jake. "I understand you led a small team aboard the Zoxyth command ship. From what Colonel Allison told me, you killed the last Zox warrior before he could scuttle his dreadnought."
"Sir, I don't know that he intended to scuttle the ship—"
"It's Admiral Tekamah," the Argonian interrupted. "And rest assured, had he made it to the Altar of the Forebearers, we would not be having this conversation."
Obviously not used to being upstaged by a subordinate, Jake's commanding officers began to look agitated. Giard decided to redirect the conversation. "Thank you for your concern, sir, but—"
Admiral Tekamah laughed. "I'm sorry. You misunderstand my meaning, Colonel. The fact that two of you made it out alive is not inconsequential. However, your victory and what you found afterward has far deeper meaning than you know."
Several minutes later, they walked into Admiral Tekamah's quarters. Jake looked around. "This is … huge." It looked like someone had stuck a rainforest inside a Gothic cathedral, albeit one with a theater-sized view-wall spanning one side. A waterfall tumbled into the room's back corner, its sound oddly muted. Lush green creeping vines climbed the fluted trim of the room's many pointed arches. Tropical birds flew about the room, apparently nesting in the vines as well as within the various nooks and crannies of the rocks surrounding the full drop of the waterfall. Again, the muted sounds of the scene struck Jake as out of place. The noise of crashing waters and flapping birds barely rose to detectable levels.
Tearing his gaze from the scene, Jake realized the group had stopped, each member staring at the surreal panorama.
Admiral Tekamah shook his head. "Sorry, should have shut that down."
Like matter turned vaporous, the tropical milieu's rocks, waterfall, plants, and birds suddenly dissolved into a rainbow of smoke. Then even the haze vanished.
The admiral smiled mirthlessly at their surprised faces. He moved to stand behind a large, ornate desk. The walnut-colored bureau looked as if it had been carved from a single, ten-foot-thick block of wood.
Jake studied the various pieces of hardware that adorned the wall behind the GDF admiral. As Giard's eyes scanned left, he did a double take. Set alone between the desk and the view-wall, a pair of familiar-looking implements with similar designs appeared to hold a place of significance. After a moment, Jake realized that he knew one of them. Stepping to it, he turned to the Admiral and pointed at the device. "May I, sir?"
The Admiral extended a hand toward the piece. "Please."
Carefully, Jake pulled the weapon from its display rack. Running a fingertip across the six-shooter's decorative engravings, he said, "This is an original eighteen seventy-three model."
The man nodded. "Yes, Colonel. It was the first year Colt made the Single Action Army revolver."
"Where did you get this, Admiral?"
"It was a gift from Harry."
"Harry?" Jake said.
"I believe you'd know him as President Harry Truman," the admiral said in his strange, Afrikaner-like accent.
Jake gave the man an appraising look. "You don't look a day over fifty, sir."
"I assure you, Colonel, I only look this old because, even in our advanced society, people still associate one's vintage with wisdom. I could just as easily look your age, but suffice it to say, I am significantly older than anyone you've ever met."
After blinking back his surprise, Jake returned the Colt to its rack. It sat in opposition, muzzle-to-muzzle, with a similar yet unrecognizable revolver. He gestured to it and said, "I don't recognize this one."
"You wouldn't," the admiral said. "Like me, it is much older and comes from a star system far from here."
"Argonia?" Richard said.
Tekamah nodded and raised a hand. "Yes, but I did not bring you aboard to discuss such issues. We have rather more important matters to address."
Each of them nodded somberly.
The Argonian gestured across his bureau. "Please, take a seat."
They fanned out in front of the admiral's desk. Behind each officer, a section of the floor raised, forming an individual seat.
As the group sat, Admiral Tekamah's face darkened. "This was a tragedy for all of us," he said. "I am sorry for your losses, sorry your world got drawn into our war." He looked pointedly at Richard, Jake, and Colonel Newcastle. "I owe you a great deal of gratitude. After we had linked up, I accessed the Galactic Guardian's log." Pausing, he pointed at Jake. "Colonel Giard, while it didn't save my people, your quick thinking—" a wry grin lightened his face, "and Colonel Allison's persistence on the radio—prevented an even greater tragedy. Had you not acted when you did, all would have been lost. The fleet would have been wiped out, not just its personnel. The Zoxyth wouldn't have stopped until they blasted every ship into falling slag. Then they would have finished off your planet."
Jake looked at the floor. He still couldn't think of their efforts as successful. So many had died, Victor right in front of him.
When he looked up, Jake saw Tekamah point at Richard and then at Sandy. "It's fortunate for these two that the Zoxyth disruptor field is still running. Had it not been, we would have dropped out of parallel-space too close to Earth to detect their presence in the Jovian system. And, considering their precarious predicament at that particular moment …" Tekamah hoisted his eyebrows but left the thought unfinished.
Jake wondered what a disruptor field was and how it had led to the events near Jupiter. To his right, Sandy shuddered and paled. Since neither she nor Richard could elaborate at the moment, he'd have to wait for them to fill in the blanks later.
"At any rate," Tekamah said. "We'll rectify that problem soon and reestablish communication with the core."
The Argonian Admiral's face darkened again. Sitting back in his chair, he scanned each of their faces. In those aged eyes, Jake could see the man's years. After a weary sigh, Tekamah continued. "Unfortunately, the Zoxyth aren't done, and I fear they're not done with Earth either."
Each of the room's occupants rocked as if slapped.
Hearing his worst fears spoken as more than just possible, Jake stood. "Then what are we doing sitting here?"
The room erupted with noise as the other officers expressed similar concerns.
Tekamah held up both hands then waved everyone back into their seats. "They won't get here today and likely not even tomorrow." He paused, canting his head and pursing his lips. "Beyond that …?"
After exchanging glances in shocked silence, the members of the Earth contingent returned to their seats.
General Pearson leaned forward, fire in his eyes. Jake could see the man's jaw muscles working.
"Admiral Tekamah," Pearson said in a measured tone that didn't quite hide the general's anger. "We've already lost hundreds of millions of innocent people to those bastards and their God damned weapon. While I'm thankful that the GDF sent a carrier to our defense, it was too little, too late!" His calm facade crumbled. "Why in hell weren't we warned about the Zoxyth?! Why didn't you give us some way to protect ourselves?!"
The GDF admiral maintained his com
posed visage, but as the man stared back at them, Jake saw pain in his eyes. "I do not know how they discovered your existence. As soon as I received word that they were heading for Earth, I dispatched the Guardian. Had I known they had this weapon …" He paused, shaking his head. Tekamah appeared to stare through them. "You weren't the only one the Zoxyth targeted with this new implement. They attacked one of our worlds. We arrived too late to save the population of that Argonian colony. All but one individual fell to the godsdamned weapon."
"Oh my God," Sandy whispered.
Jake saw General Pearson deflate, the news of the loss of an entire Argonian colony eroding his indignant anger.
Tekamah nodded somberly. "If not for that man's warning, my fleet might have suffered the same fate as the Galactic Guardian. Even forewarned by the sole survivor, I was fortunate to get out of the system with only a thirty percent casualty rate."
The faces of Jake's comrades reflected his shock.
"Jesus wept," Admiral Johnston whispered. "You're operating with only seventy percent of your staff?"
Tekamah nodded again.
Jake's mind reeled. Thirty percent was an incredible military deprivation. On Earth, any fighting unit that experienced battle losses of that magnitude was considered combat-ineffective. The cavalry hadn't arrived, more like the French Army following Waterloo. Hell, adding the loss of everyone aboard the Galactic Guardian's fleet, Jake knew it was even worse than Napoleon's defeat.
After letting them absorb the news, Admiral Tekamah said, "However, I do have reason for hope." He looked at Richard. "Colonel, please repeat what you told me earlier, the part about the device you and Colonel Giard noticed."
"Device?" Jake said.
In his far left seat, Richard shifted to address the group. He gestured toward Jake and said, "After we killed the last Zoxyth on the enemy ship, Colonel Giard and I searched the rest of the vessel. As you know, we didn't find any other Zox … none living anyway." Shifting his gaze to the floor, he paused. After a moment, Richard looked up and continued. "But we did find something that looked … out of place."