Empire (Empire, Book One)

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Empire (Empire, Book One) Page 7

by Logan Rutherford


  President Gerald Key.

  Ivan sighed as he tapped his screen. He couldn’t believe they were back, he could only hope that they weren’t planning a full scale attack. He never thought he’d see war again. He swore to himself that, if it were to come to that, he’d get off this ship. He’d put himself on the frontline as a scrub before he’d continue on a ship rinsing through cadets and enlisted every couple of weeks.

  Ivan caught himself staring at the bottom drawer of his desk. The amber liquid encased in glass sat inside the darkness of the drawer. Maybe just a sip to help straighten up his thoughts before calling?

  Ivan shook his head and concentrated on the tablet. He wouldn’t use alcohol as a crutch. Not again.

  He pressed the emergency call button and a screen popped up asking him to confirm. He pressed yes, and then was tasked with solving a simple math problem—just to be sure he didn’t accidentally use the emergency line. Ivan was thankful for it during his earlier, more inebriated days aboard the Empire. That would’ve really burned some bridges.

  Ivan answered the question. With each quiet beep that emanated from the tablet as he waited for Gerald to answer, his heart skipped a beat. He’d come up with no shortage of things to say to Gerald in the past two years but now that he had to speak to him with a sober mind, he was afraid to say any of it.

  The call connected and the face of his former best friend and brother-in-arms appeared onscreen.

  And he seemed…happy.

  “Well if it isn’t the old scoundrel himself,” the president said with a smile.

  His happiness grated on Ivan. He wanted to punch him in the teeth. Why was he acting like nothing was wrong, when Gerald ruined his life?

  Focus, Joshua. He scolded himself for being so selfish, especially in the face of an alien attack.

  “You alright, Joshua?” Gerald leaned forward, his salt-and-pepper eyebrows furrowing and the wrinkles in his face growing deeper.

  Ivan cleared his throat. “Yes, sir.” He shook his head. “Actually, no, sir. Things are not alright. I have dire news to deliver. The Mortuks have returned.” He let out a small sigh of relief that it was over.

  Gerald almost dropped the mug he’d been taking a sip out of. “What the hell are you talking about? Is this some sort of sick joke, Joshua? If so, you’re way out of line and a year or two late.”

  “Furthest from it, sir,” Ivan said, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. “I received orders to find out why the USS Ricochet wasn’t responding to any of its hails. When we arrived, the Ricochet had been destroyed, and the Mortuks were waiting. They attacked but we escaped.”

  “And why in the hell was a training ship ordered to go on a mission other than its pre-planned simulations?” Gerald asked, his voice rising.

  “I’m not sure, sir. I’m not the ones who gives out orders,” Ivan responded, his jaw clenching.

  “What about Hayden? Is he alright?”

  Ivan waited a beat. “Yes, sir, he’s fine.” He debated whether or not he should tell the president that Hayden was actually the one who got them all out of there. It wouldn’t make him look good but it also wouldn’t look good if Gerald found out from someone else. “Actually, sir, Hayden was acting as XO when the attack happened.” He hoped the news of his son being a hero would distract him from why he had to be one. “I’d had a…moment. Seeing those Mortuk ships I…” Ivan didn’t know how to articulate his words, his eyes searching the room around him for the answers.

  “It was hard seeing them again, wasn’t it?” Gerald asked.

  Ivan nodded. “Yes, it was difficult. It was a shock, that’s for sure. Your son though…he handled the situation well. Got everyone out of there safely—for the most part. We lost a few fighter pilots. I’ll get you a full rundown so you can get in contact with their next of kin.”

  “Goddamn it.” Gerald leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his hand against his face, as if trying to wake himself from a nightmare. “It’s been forty years since anyone has even seen the Mortuks, much less been killed by them.”

  Ivan nodded. “They’ve been busy, too. I’ll have the footage uploaded to the quantum network and sent over to you for analysis. One thing’s for sure, though. We’ve got war on our doorstep.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The elevator doors opened and Ivan could feel the nervous energy emanating from the bridge. He waited a moment, nerves biting at his stomach despite his years of experience. He just never thought he’d have another one like this to add to the list. He strode through the rounded entrance. He smiled as he realized this was one of the last times he’d be walking through that door. He looked down at the people—kids, really—who sat around their computers, talking among themselves, trying to figure out what was going on.

  Ivan walked down the staircase to the bottom of the bridge where his chair sat. With each step, voices went silent and heads turned to face him. He reached his chair and stood with his hands on the back, staring out the screen as light streaked past them. “Angelica,” he said loud enough so that everyone could hear him.

  “Yes, Captain?” the AI responded, her voice echoing throughout the bridge.

  The room lit up with whispers as they searched the room, trying to locate the source of the voice.

  “Patch me into the shipwide intercom.”

  “Right away, sir. You’re live.”

  Ivan gathered his thoughts. “This is your captain speaking. Earlier today, as many of you have learned by now, we encountered a Mortuk vessel that crossed the ETL and destroyed the USS Ricochet.” Ivan cast a sideways glance to the cadet whose sister had been stationed on the Ricochet. She stared at her screen, her eyes red and puffy. His heart went out to her. He wanted to go over and comfort her. “We don’t know their intentions but in one fell swoop they ended hundreds of human lives. We cannot let an attack like this go unanswered. There will be retaliation, which means that your training is more important now than ever. I’ve received orders that we must go to the nearby Space Fleet base, the Comoran. There we will assess the situation and decide our course of action.

  “The men and women on this ship are of a special kind. You are among the first in forty years to see battle with the Mortuks. You survived and I have no doubt that you will continue to do so. You are soldiers in the Space Fleet. You were born for this. Made for this. And, in one way or another, you will be trained for this. But you can’t train instinct, and that, I have no doubt, is inside each and every one of you.”

  Ivan paused for a moment, waiting to see if anything else would come to mind. Nothing did, so he raised his hand over his head and flicked his wrist.

  “Transmission has ended, sir,” Angelica said.

  “Thank you.” Ivan stood with his hands against the back of his chair, leaning forward. For some reason, he was scared to face all the people he knew were staring at him. He wasn’t sure what to do next—what they would expect him to do.

  Something rang inside his head—the line in his speech about instinct. His thoughts turned to Hayden Key. He couldn’t deny that instinct was one thing he had.

  It was only a matter of time before he discovered just how deep that instinct ran.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hayden paced back and forth in his cell, a bitterness growing within him. How could Ivan speak like that, as if he was the one who’d saved everyone? He knew exactly who saved every soul on this ship and he’d thrown that person in the brig.

  There were two cells with metal bars from floor to ceiling in the brig. Archaic, but they got the job done. This wasn’t just any metal, but ultainium—the same specialized steel that made up the outer layer of all Space Fleet battleships, including the Empire.

  On the far left side of the room, outside the cells, sat a desk with a lamp and some papers spread across it. The ceiling glowed a soft white, filling the room with a dim light.

  “Come on, man.” Hayden leaned up against the bars, speaking to the guard by the door. “You gotta let me out of h
ere. You heard the captain. Things are going crazy. Nobody’d notice if you just let me slip out.”

  The marine looked straight ahead.

  “You know who I am, don’t you?” Hayden cursed himself for pulling his celebrity card but he didn’t have much of a choice.

  The marine darted his eyes to Hayden before returning to his thousand-yard stare. “I’m well aware, sir.”

  “Then you know you should let me out, right?”

  The locks on the door to the brig clanked open and the large metal door swung outwards. Another marine stepped in, this one a bit smaller than the first. He held a tablet in his hand and walked towards Hayden’s cell.

  “I’ve got someone who’d like to talk to you, sir,” the marine said, handing Hayden the tablet through the bars.

  Hayden snatched it from his hands. “Thank you.” He looked down at the screen and the face of his father stared back at him. “Get out of here,” Hayden said to the two marines.

  They exchanged glances with each other, not sure what to do. It was against protocol to leave a prisoner unguarded.

  “I’m talking to the president here. Would you like him to give the order?” Hayden pointed at the tablet.

  The marines left the room as fast as they could without flat out running. Hayden chuckled to himself before turning back to the screen.

  “This isn’t a joke, Hayden. You didn’t go through years of Space Fleet training to get thrown in the brig on your first day,” his dad said, his voice stern.

  “Well I also wasn’t planning on facing a Mortuk ship, getting a dozen people killed, saving everyone else on board and then getting thrown in the brig because the captain was too busy daydreaming to do his job.”

  “I know, I know. I spoke with Ivan. He told me everything,” Gerald said.

  “Did he tell you about this?” Hayden said, readjusting his collar to show the red marks on his throat where bruises were beginning to form. “He was so out of it he saw me and thought I was one of them. Only reason he got off me was because the plan that I came up with to save the whole ship went into motion, and he fell.”

  Warmth flared within Hayden at his father’s anger. Dad was genuinely upset that he’d been attacked. Or was it because Ivan didn’t tell him? When it came to his father, there was always a double meaning.

  “He failed to mention that to me,” he said. Hayden could tell her was trying his best to keep his cool. “Don’t worry, son, the two of us will have a conversation about that, I assure you. However, right now, he’s the only person qualified to bring the ship into base. Once you’re there—once you’re safe—we’ll figure out the next step.”

  “If my safety was your concern, Dad, you shouldn’t have let me join the Space Fleet,” Hayden said with a smirk.

  “That’s why joining the L-Cadets was your only option. If your life is going to be in the hands of the soldiers next to you, I want to make sure they’re the best.”

  Hayden sighed and nodded. “This is a good group here—save for Ben Tillows, of course.” Hayden walked over to the bunk in the corner of the room and sat down.

  “Oh, Christ. You’ve got a Tillow on board with you? I can have him transferred, if you want,” Gerald said with a raised eyebrow and a playful smile.

  Hayden laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I can handle him.” Hayden thought back to the fight they’d gotten into earlier and smiled. He didn’t think he’d be able to smile again for a long time but he always enjoyed talking with his father. The man’s natural ability to make people feel warm, welcome and loved was his superpower. It was why he was perfect for politics, really. “Maybe you can do something about getting me out of this cell though.”

  Gerald threw his head back and laughed. “Don’t worry, Hayden. It’s being taken ca—”

  An explosion outside the window behind Gerald cut him off mid-sentence.

  Hayden jumped from his seat, gripping the tablet tight in his hands. “Dad!”

  Gerald jumped from his seat and a group of Secret Service agents flooded the room, knocking the tablet from his hand, causing it to land face up in the air.

  “Dad!” Hayden shouted again, shaking the tablet, willing his father to come back to the screen.

  “I love you, Hayden!” he shouted from off-screen.

  Glass exploded and a black streak flew into the Oval Office. The screen went black and an error message popped up on Hayden’s tablet—the call had been disconnected.

  Hayden ran to the bars and shook them, screaming. “Captain Ivan! Get me Captain Ivan! They’re under attack!” Nobody came. His voice wasn’t penetrating the thick metal of the brig door. He felt his throat being torn apart as he screamed louder and louder. But no one came.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mia’s head slumped to her chest, the sudden motion causing her to jolt awake.

  She looked around, frantic, trying to figure out where she was. The tall bookshelves, the books sprawled in front of her, the tablet with a dead screen, the cold cup of coffee. Her memory slowly returned. She was in the library of her university, she’d fallen asleep, and—she looked at the watch on her wrist—yep. She was late.

  “Shit, shit, shit.” She jumped up from her seat, grabbed her backpack that hung off the back of the chair and began shoving everything on the table inside. She had no time to be organized. No time for rhyme or reason. Everything had to go. She’d sort it all out later.

  Despite her hurry, she erred on the side of caution. The handgun her father insisted she carry was inside somewhere. There was no way it’d go off without her fingerprint unlocking it but she was raised to act as if all guns were loaded. Logic dictates that, if that were true, having it thrown haphazardly in a backpack wasn’t the smartest thing to do but Mia’s logic only went as far as her convenience.

  Done, she threw the backpack over her shoulders. She brushed away a stray brown hair that’d found its way inside her mouth and took off towards the stairs. She’d meant to get in some extra study time before her history test at 11:00. She loved the library and, even though many viewed books as archaic, she loved them—the smell, the feel of the pages, the cracking of the spines. She was happy that, despite all of the technological advances in the world, books were one of the few things that survived history.

  What she wasn’t happy about, though, was falling asleep. Now it was 11:03 and she had to get all the way across campus before it got any later. She cursed her boyfriend under her breath. She knew she shouldn’t have spent the night, but there were too many episodes of The Beam to catch up on, and she didn’t want to get any farther behind.

  You happy now, Nick? Your stupid show’s going to make me fail this test. She barreled out the doors of the library and the cold D.C. air blasted her. She clenched her jaw and focused on getting to the other side of campus as fast as she could. The giant clock tower in the middle of the courtyard seemed to be mocking her as the minute hand clicked to the next tick.

  She prayed her teacher, Professor Hence, would cut her some slack. She doubted that, though, given the fact that he hated her. He couldn’t get past the fact that her father was a part of history he didn’t like, no matter how many times she’d told him that she’d done just that.

  I could give him a lesson or two in for—

  An explosion interrupted her.

  The shockwave blasted across the campus, sending Mia flying. She hit the grass and rolled over a few times. Her limited military training kicked in and she shielded her head from the debris. The heat of the fiery debris burned her skin, for some reason, it didn’t make any noise.. The only thing she could hear was the burning of whatever building had blown up, along with screams.

  Mia looked up. Thousands of burning pages rained down around her, covering the ground like fiery snow. She turned around and looked at the source of the explosion. Her heart fell to her feet.

  The library was in ruins. There was nothing left but burning rubble. Her mouth hung open in shock. She had no ide
a what caused it but she did know that if she’d slept for just a little bit longer, she’d be amongst the ashes and not standing atop them.

  A black streak whistled across the sky, tearing her from her thoughts. Another one followed. Within seconds, the sky was filled with black streaks. A whistle isolated itself from the rest. It grew louder. Mia turned to see where it was coming from and watched as one of the black streaks tore through the clock tower in the middle of the courtyard she was standing in. It burrowed into the dirt, sending shockwaves across the ground. Mia fell off her feet, but she made no attempts to get up. She was hypnotized by the large black needle-shaped ship that stuck out of the ground like a spine on a cactus. The vessel hissed as one side of it opened at the top and folded outwards, making a ramp to the ground. Like something out of the many history books she’d read, a platoon of Mortuk soldiers marched down the steps, every thud of their large metal boots sending a prick of fear down her spine.

  She stayed there, frozen, hoping that, if she remained still, they might not see her. If she had to run, they might as well shoot her then and there, because she knew there was no way that was happening.

  The humanoid soldiers fanned out, their bodies hidden under armor. The sun reflected off their armor and it shimmered a deep black, then a million different colors in the span of a millisecond. It settled on a brilliant white before going black once more. It was as if every inch of their armor was a prism, the sun reflecting its beautiful light for all the world to see.

  The loud rumble of a Space Fleet A-44 fighter filled the air. It flew overhead, launching its powerful lasers at the alien vessel. The lasers exploded on impact and Mia shielded her eyes from the blast. She looked up and saw the needle-like ship undamaged.

  The Mortuks, however, didn’t fare as well.

  Pieces of them were strewn across the courtyard. Their armor wasn’t as missile-resistant as their ship.

  Mia jumped up from the ground and grabbed her backpack as she ran towards a nearby building.

 

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