Theogony 3: Terra Stands Alone

by Chris Kennedy

  “We are considering assaulting the replicator,” Calvin said. “What can you tell us about it? How many Drakuls would be aboard? How many will be onboard the dreadnought that just came out?”

  Azrael paused to consider. “If the dreadnought just came out of the replicator, the ship will not be manned by its crew yet. Normally, there is a two or three day period where the crew of the replicator works with the artificial intelligence onboard the ship to run the initial diagnostics. When that is complete, the crew will transport up from the planet.” He looked at Calvin for a moment and then asked, “Why doth thou want to know?”

  “We’re thinking of commandeering the dreadnought, as well,” Calvin replied. “How many Drakuls do you think will be onboard the replicator and the ship, total?”

  “Hmmm...Somewhere around 100, I would guess,” the Archon replied. “That’s just a guess. There will also be a variety of other races aboard, most of which will be friendly if you can separate them from the Drakuls.”

  “Which ones are allied with the Drakuls?” Captain Sheppard asked.

  “Allied with the Drakuls?” Azrael asked with a laugh. “Thou don’t know the Drakuls very well. No one is allied with them. Who would ally with them when they are just as likely to tear off parts of thy body and eat them as look at thee? Still, many of the races will be afraid of reprisals if they help you, so ye will have to make them believe that ye can win.”

  “What about a way to get onto the replicator unnoticed?” Night asked. “Is there any way to get aboard the replicator or, even better, the dreadnought?”

  “Thy best chance of getting onboard unnoticed is to go through the replicator,” Azrael answered. “There may be an open hatch somewhere on the dreadnought, but that is a lot of area to cover. I can get you onto the replicator easily, unless the Drakuls have changed the codes.”

  “You can?” Calvin asked.

  “Why, yes,” Azrael said. “I used to have to go outside to work on the laser systems of new ships, so I used the hatches on numerous occasions. For all of their viciousness, most of the Drakuls are not extremely intelligent. Are they sly? Yes, most of them are quite cunning, but as a race they are not overly bright. The code on most of the hatches is 1-2-3-4.”

  “No shit?” asked Night. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I am telling thee the truth,” Azrael replied, “The codes were never changed the whole time I was there. What would be the reason? They would never expect anyone to come here and try to steal a ship. It should be easy to get into the station, and I would be happy to show you the way. Once ye are in, though, things will get decidedly more difficult for you.”

  “Why is that?” Calvin asked.

  “As I already said,” Azrael repeated, “they are quite vicious, and ye will be fighting them at close quarters. They like to tear things off of the people they are fighting. I don’t know how many soldiers ye have, but there are probably a hundred of them. I wouldn’t think ye had enough troops to fight them on a ship this small.”

  “We may not have enough to go toe-to-toe against them in an open area,” Calvin replied, “but if we can get in and out without raising an alarm, I think we can pull it off. How many do you suppose will be on the station, and how many will be on the ship?”

  “There will probably be about half on the ship and half on the replicator,” Azrael answered. “If ye could capture the bridge on the ship and the control station on the replicator, ye could keep the alarm from being raised. No one would know ye had captured them. Ye could also use the controls to lock up some of the Drakuls in various rooms, where ye could deal with them separately. Maybe even pump out the atmosphere and let them die of their own accord.” He smiled at the thought.

  “That wouldn’t bother me any,” Calvin said.

  “More important to the success of the plan, you also have us,” added Smetlurge.

  “No offense, but you didn’t seem too fond of combat on the asteroid,” Calvin replied.

  “Me?” asked Smetlurge. “Of course not. I’m not going to fight any of the Drakuls, nor would any of the other Hooolongs. Some of the other races might fight, but we wouldn’t. You have seen what they do to Hooolongs; they pick us up and drain us dry. No thanks. We absolutely will not go into close combat with the Drakuls. However, if you can get us into the control room, we will run the computers for you and make our presence felt that way, as long as you provide security for us. Also, if you succeed in taking it from them, we will crew it for you. As we no longer have a planet, I would request the ship be given to us to serve as our home, along with any of the other prisoners of war that want to join us.”

  “That is fine with me,” agreed Captain Sheppard. “If circumstances allow it, we would like to lay claim to the replicator, should we manage to capture it, but the ship is yours.”

  “Solomon, how many of each type of alien do we currently have aboard?” Calvin asked.

  “Currently onboard the Vella Gulf are 41 Hooolongs, 12 Depsips, three Xanths, three Quugeerts, two Clranks, three Archons, one Mrowry and one Psiclops,” Solomon noted.

  “Can any of them fight?” Night asked. “We’re down a few soldiers after the assault on the asteroid, and we could really use a hand if we’re going to try to take both the replicator and the ship.”

  “The Depsips might fight,” said Smetlurge. “They have automatic crossbows that they use in combat that fire poison arrows.”

  “The Depsips?” asked Calvin. “What race is that?”

  “They are the creatures with lots of legs and two heads,” said Smetlurge, “like Bzzzeedlezzzzz on the asteroid. They are also very good with computer network operations and computer network attack.”

  “Oh, the ones that looked like giant spiders,” Night said. “They didn’t impress me as being the most fierce...”

  “Generally, they are not,” agreed Smetlurge, “unless they are defending their homes or children.”

  “Which they wouldn’t be,” noted Calvin. “Maybe they’d be better running the replicator control room if we can get them there, rather than taking them into combat with the Drakuls. Any others?”

  “The Xanths are quite warlike, although small,” added Smetlurge. “They can fly, but there won’t be enough room to use them as aviation units where they would be at their best. Perhaps if they were given laser pistols, they might be of use. If nothing else, they would be hard for the Drakuls to catch.”

  “I, too, will fight on thy side,” said Azrael. “I believe that the Drakuls and I have some unfinished business over the removal of my wings.”

  “You already know that you can count on me,” added Lieutenant Rrower. “I’m in.”

  “That still leaves us pretty short,” said Calvin. “I just have the feeling that we’re going to need more troops...”

  Platoon CO’s Office, TSS Vella Gulf, 54 Piscium, February 24, 2021

  Calvin looked up at the sound of a knock. “You asked for me to come by?” Steropes asked. “Am I to be allowed to go with the force that is going to the planet?” asked Steropes.

  “I’m sorry,” said Calvin, “but no. The group that is going there is just going to the surface of the planet, dropping off the bomb and then coming back. You’d just be in the way.” He paused, looking closely at Steropes. “We’re also getting ready to launch an assault on the dreadnought...”

  “And you’re going to tell me that I can’t come,” Steropes interrupted.

  “Actually, no,” said Calvin, “I wanted to talk to you about coming along.”

  “Really?” Steropes asked, hope in his eyes.

  “When I said that I didn’t want you to come with us on the asteroid assault, I wasn’t being entirely truthful,” Calvin replied. “Part of the reason was that I didn’t want you trying to get yourself killed, but that was only part of it.”

  “Was it because we lied to you, and you didn’t trust me?” Steropes asked.

  “Maybe that was a little bit, too, but once again, not the main point,”
Calvin replied. Instead of interrupting again, Steropes waited for Calvin to explain.

  “The main reason I didn’t let you go,” Calvin said after a short pause, “was the matter of your redemption.”

  “My redemption?” Steropes asked.

  “Yes, your redemption,” Calvin agreed. “I have heard you say several times that you wanted to redeem yourself for the wrongs that you have committed, thereby hoping to reunite with your wife in your next lifetime.”

  “I didn’t think that you believed in reincarnation,” Steropes said.

  “I don’t,” agreed Calvin, “but that doesn’t mean that I can’t respect your belief in it. Who knows? Maybe you are right. I wouldn’t want to cheat you out of what you were working toward. The reason I didn’t take you is that it looked like you wanted to go and give your life for us, thereby acquiring some sort of kharma points that would let you move up the ladder in your next lifetime to be with Parvati.”

  “That is my hope, yes,” admitted Steropes.

  “Then you are going about it all wrong,” said Calvin. “A deity wouldn’t fall for that. You are trying to take the easy way out, just like your civilization did when it started this war. You didn’t want to be responsible for your actions then; you just wanted to blame all of the bad things on someone else. You’re doing the same thing now. Rather than actually helping us, you’re just hoping to go get killed. The thing you don’t see is that going out on a mission just to get killed isn’t going to earn you the points you want, because you’re not really helping us. If you want to earn the kharma points necessary to make up for the things you’ve done, you have to do that by struggling to do good, by staying alive and giving us the benefit of your thousands of years of experience. Nothing worthwhile is ever easy, and salvation is one of the hardest things to achieve, no matter what your religion or belief system.”

  “If you want to achieve your goals,” Calvin continued, “you do that by staying alive and striving with every fiber of your being to do the right thing, not by taking the easy way out. You do that by going down to that dreadnought with us and kicking the shit out of every Drakul we see, without letting them kill you in return. You help us get back to the Archons with the support needed to beat the Drakuls on this front, so that they can come help us defend Earth. We need your help. You want redemption? Then earn it. Stop being a baby, stop whining about what might have been, get off your ass and come help us kill some Drakuls. We need you, but we need the tai chi master, not someone that’s just looking to die.”

  Steropes looked up. There was a light in his eyes that Calvin hadn’t seen in a while. Steropes nodded. “You are correct,” he said. “It is often easier to see what is better for others than to analyze yourself.” He nodded. “I agree. Take me on the assault. I will give you my all.”

  Chapel, TSS Vella Gulf, 54 Piscium, February 24, 2021

  Calvin knocked on the doorframe to the ship’s chapel, interrupting Father Zuhlsdorf who was cleaning up something on the altar. He looked up in surprise to see Calvin standing in the doorway. “Come in, come in,” he invited. “Are you still struggling with who you are, and who you think you should be?”

  “No,” Calvin said. “For the first time since the war with China, I think I’m finally at peace with myself; my problem today is more of a physical nature.”

  “Yes?” Father Zuhlsdorf asked. “What is it?”

  “We are about to try to capture a replicator and a ship from the Drakuls,” Calvin replied; “however, the platoon is a little thin. Heck, we’d be a little thin if we tried to do this with a full battalion; the ship alone is over two miles long. On our last mission, you helped out in combat against the coatls...I wanted to ask if you’d consider coming with us to help out with the assault. We need everyone we can get.”

  “The Lord works in mysterious ways,” said Father Zuhlsdorf. “I was due to be replaced prior to this cruise, but the replacement chaplain ended up with an appendicitis and was delayed. As it turns out, I still have all of my gear onboard. I can be ready in 15 minutes.”

  Spacehawk Ready Room, TSS Vella Gulf, 54 Piscium, February 24, 2021

  “OK,” said Lieutenant Phil ‘Venturi’ Ventura, the shuttle’s WSO, “that’s the plan. We fly down, try to avoid detection for as long as possible and then land in this valley 12 miles outside the capital city. Lieutenant Finn will egress and place the bomb, while the security team provides cover from any wandering Drakuls in the area. Surveillance shows the area to be clear, but we’re still a long way off. Once the bomb is set, Lieutenant Finn will call for egress, and everyone will board the shuttle. At that point, it is up to Boom Boom, I mean Lieutenant Sean Ventura, the pilot for the mission, and I to get us safely back to our rendezvous with the Vella Gulf. Once we’re outside the blast radius, you can detonate the weapon. Any questions?”

  “Do we know anything about their defenses?” asked Boom Boom. Although an aviator, he had picked up his call sign in Afghanistan on a detached duty. The locals started calling him “Boom, Boom” after the sounds his boots made as he ran across the roofs of buildings, trying to chase down mujahedeen infiltrators.

  “Yeah,” said Venturi, “I just got the download from Intel. It looks like the Drakuls are there to stay. They have set up a planetary defense center as well as several orbital command posts. They’ve also got a shitload of missiles, lasers and other defenses. Intel didn’t know if the orbital command posts would be able to penetrate our stealth shield. They didn’t think so, for what it’s worth.”

  “That’s great,” Boom Boom said with a snort. “I feel safer already.”

  “Yeah, no kidding,” Venturi agreed. “Regardless, we won’t know until we get there. If we lose the stealth module, it’s going to take a great crew to get the shuttle down in one piece. Don’t worry, though. We’re the best. If anyone can do it, we can.”

  “For our part,” Corporal Craig Cuillard said, “we may not be quite as good as the Terran operators at special forces missions.”

  “We may not have all of the experience that the rest of the unit has,” said Corporal John Stump.

  “But we can do this,” said Corporal Weldon Owens. “We will keep the Drakuls off of you long enough to get the bomb set up, and for us to get back in to the shuttle. If you can get us down, we’ll do the rest.”

  Platoon Ready Room, TSS Vella Gulf, 54 Piscium, February 24, 2021

  “We’ll be ready in two minutes,” Master Chief said, scanning the controlled chaos that was the platoon’s gear room. Similar to a sports team’s locker room, each of the soldiers had a cubicle in which to store his or her combat gear.

  “You recommended moving Sergeant Zoromski up to replace Master Gunnery Sergeant Kinkead?” Calvin asked.

  “Yeah,” said Master Chief, “I did. He’s the senior person in the Ground Force now that Staff Sergeant Randolph’s been detached to the other squad.”

  “Everyone’s talking about me like I’m dead,” said Master Gunnery Sergeant Kinkead from the doorway. “Is there some reason you’re giving away my spot when it’s obvious the troops need my leadership so desperately?”

  “Besides the broken ribs and other various injuries that have the medibot saying that you’re confined to your quarters?” asked Calvin.

  “It sounds like this is pretty much an ‘all hands on deck’ effort,” Kinkead said. “I’m a hand, and I’m on deck. I’m coming.”

  “Well, there’s no doubt that we need your leadership,” agreed Calvin, ducking as one of the Xanths glided by.

  The Xanths looked like smaller versions of Earth’s prehistoric pteranodon, with leathery wings and skin, although they didn’t have the pteranodon’s crest. They stood slightly less than three feet tall, with wingspans just under 10 feet. The Xanth landed at the cubicle the three of them were sharing, Staff Sergeant Burke’s. They were going to wear an oxygen mask in the assault shuttle, but would take it off once they made it onboard the replicator so they could fly.

  The two Depsips were
standing at the lockers of the two medics. Each was large enough to need a locker to itself. No suit ever made could contain the spidery Depsips; they would also wear specially-made masks in the shuttle.

  What a mess, thought Calvin, who didn’t feel like he knew enough about all of the aliens to command them in battle. Although he had talked with the Xanths and the Depsips for a few minutes, he barely understood their capabilities and limitations. He knew he couldn’t count on the Hooolongs for combat support. While the race had once been warlike, that time was centuries past. They promised to operate the ship’s systems if he could get them onboard, but driving the creatures along in their inchworm-like pace was somewhat like trying to herd cats. They were slower than cats, but more prone to stopping and looking at something suddenly. Just watching them ‘walk’ was disconcerting. At least all of them had implants so they could talk to each other. He had the platoon on one frequency and the extraterrestrials on a separate frequency so they didn’t compromise the combat capabilities of the squad.

  Hearing a whirring sound, Calvin turned to find Bob ‘Danger’ Jones, the combat cameraman, filming their preparations. He was using a digital 3D camera, so there was no need for the noise. Danger just liked the sound because hearing it made him feel like an old-time war correspondent. He was dressed in combat gear, although Calvin didn’t see a weapon on him. “Hi, Bob,” Calvin said to the combat cameraman. “As you can see, we’re a little thin today. Any chance of getting you to be more ‘combat’ and less ‘cameraman’ today?”

  “I guess I can,” said Jones, with his award-winning smile, “especially if it’s what’s needed to get the story back to my public.”

  “Good,” replied Calvin. “Go see Master Chief and have him issue you a laser rifle.”

  “Hey, uh, sir,” Jones said, putting out a hand to stop Calvin as he turned to leave, “I’ve always been more of an explosives kind of guy. Can I get one of those tridents instead? That way, I don’t have to be quite as accurate.”