Colony (Terran Chronicles Book 3)

by James Jackson

  Peter puts the wallet away, and says, “The more personal the better.”

  Three minutes later, and quite a distance away from the battle scene, John lands the shuttle on a small plateau. Henry has had just enough time to bandage a few of their cuts and scrapes. Some of them will require further medical attention, but for now they are patched up as best as he can.

  Stepping out of the shuttle, Radclyf and the others smile. There, resting before them, is an old 170mm self propelled gun.

  Peter gives them an unnecessary history lesson as he examines the abandoned weapon. “Iran imported a few of these from North Korea many years ago. He adds with surprise, “It looks to be operational.”

  None of them mind the irony of using one old adversary’s equipment to defeat another. Paul sits in the driver’s seat, and in short order, has the old engine running. Taking care not to damage the tracks, he turns the massive gun around until it faces the cave they were trying to get to.

  Radclyf wipes fresh blood from a cut on his forehead, “This gun was positioned to be able to fire over this hill, and yet be protected from retaliatory artillery rounds.”

  Peter interrupts them all with an unexpected exclamation, “There are only four rounds left on this thing!”

  Chokichi puts down his sniper rifle, then says with glee, “It looks like no one saw us land here,” he points back toward the valley, “They’re not heading this way, but they do look like they’re moving house.”

  The first 170mm round streaks out with a deafening boom. The shell strikes the valley floor, far away from the cave entrance. Like frantic ants the terrorists scatter, then begin moving toward the group. Five minutes later, the second shell smashes the cliff face just above, and to the side of the cave, causing an avalanche of rocks to roll down the steep incline. A convoy of vehicles approaches their position, keeping Chokichi very busy as he dispatches one driver after another. This only slows the terrorists down, such is their determination.

  The third round takes another five minutes to ready. It fires, and streaks toward the cave entrance. A rattle of a heavy machine gun begins, then ends abruptly, the operator falling victim to a well aimed shot. Chokichi reloads his rifle, then sets his sights on the next target. Radclyf has his eyes glued to a pair of binoculars. He gets a fleeting glance of the shell entering the cave mouth. Oh yes baby! Seconds later, the mountain shudders from the detonation somewhere inside.

  The convoy of terrorists is almost in range when the fourth and final shell is fired at the partially demolished cave. Occasionally, bullets ricocheted off nearby rocks, but with their haven destroyed, the terrorists suddenly seem more interested in avoiding death, rather than dishing it out.

  The last shell smashes into the remnants of the cave’s entrance just as an armored truck bursts out from the collapsing tunnel. The truck is impacted by the full force of the shell and detonates spectacularly. A massive green cloud instantly rises up from its cargo area.

  Hayato stares at the cloud in alarm, “Let’s get the hell out of here, NOW!”

  The green gas quickly expands out in all directions, causing all that it reaches to collapse to the ground. A massive thump is felt through the ground just before the shuttle lifts off. In the distance, the mountain visibly shudders, then begins to fall in on itself. A series of explosions continue to rumble from deep underground, while the ever expanding vapor cloud claims hundreds, upon hundreds of lives.

  Peter blinks in surprise, though bloodied and bruised, they’re all alive. How we all survived that, when three of our team died on a spaceship, is beyond me. Fortunes of war, he muses to himself philosophically.

  Henry moves amongst the men once more, bandaging numerous small cuts and even a bullet graze across Radclyf’s forehead. Paul has a piece of shrapnel embedded in his thigh, the adrenaline of combat making him oblivious to it, until now.

  Landing the battered shuttle at the Khankala air base once more, John watches as his bloodied friends are transported away. He stares at the numerous holes in the shuttle’s hull, then grins as an idea comes to mind. The damn navigation system fried, and sent me right into a war zone. He chuckles to himself, I’ll probably get court-martialed, but it’s worth it.

  Chapter Four - Pursuit

  Andrew reluctantly takes his seat on the bridge of the Terran. He turns to his right and meets Joe’s equally disparaging look. Edwards walks over to what used to be John’s seat, then with a grin, sits down. Looking past Joe, Andrew’s expression saddens as he notices Peter’s old chair, which rests unoccupied. Gazing around the bridge, he feels a strange sense of emptiness as his eyes stray past the chairs that used to be occupied by Radclyf and Hayato. George’s empty workstation adds to his overall feeling of loss. Further adding to the strangeness of the situation, are the half a dozen heavily armed soldiers on the bridge.

  “Admiral on the bridge!” The soldier’s announcement is quite loud, breaking Andrew from his melancholy.

  Edwards quickly stands to attention, while Joe merely turns slowly in his chair. Joe runs his reproachful gaze up and down the man that enters. With graying hair and a poorly concealed pot belly, the old man’s frame is long past being that of a fit man. His jacket is so covered in medals, it appears ludicrous. Joe slowly shakes his head from side to side in antipathy, he is a poor replacement for Cindy. The thought comes unbidden, but not without a degree of sadness as he wonders how Cindy is fairing.

  The Admiral stares back at Joe with dull gray eyes. Noticing the reproachful gaze, he states dismissively, “You were consigned to this ship, but can leave any time you wish, civilian.” He almost spits the last word out.

  Joe sighs as he recalls the meeting where he and Andrew were pressed to stay on board. They were told that the Admiral did not want them on ‘his ship’, but in the interests of the coalition, he would tolerate their presence.

  Joe replies, “I will stay.”

  Edwards tilts his gaze down at Joe in disdain, “Admiral Harris, it is an honor to finally have a real commanding officer on board.”

  Harris nods, then waves indifferently at Joe, “Why don’t you go check the engines, or something.”

  Andrew responds before Joe can say anything, “You may as well, mate.” Sighing he adds sympathetically, “They haven’t been calibrated since we got home, have they?”

  Joe shakes his head, then grabs his laptop, and leaves the bridge. The walk to his room is a short one. Passing George’s old room causes a whimsical smile to escape his lips. He glances furtively at the sealed doorway, one he sealed. No one is getting their hands on George’s suit. His smile broadens as he recalls showing Hayes a vacant room, one which was supposedly George’s. Even Edwards was unable to assist in the search for George’s bodysuit. That fool can barely move the ship, Joe muses. He shakes his head in disapproval. Edwards has no idea how the internal panels work. Arriving at his room, Joe retrieves the engine calibration device, the three pronged key needed to open the entry ways, and a backpack. He stops and stares at the claw in awe before putting it away. How George managed to craft a fake Gamin hand to access the engine rooms baffles me.

  Meanwhile, on the bridge, Edwards sits down proudly. His Captain’s insignia glints in a dazzling light. He looks up at the massive main viewer, his jaw drops in shock. The light is coming from another spacecraft, one that is moving away from Earth, its sub-light engines glowing brightly.

  “What the hell!” Edwards shouts out in alarm.

  The bridge speakers crackle to life, “Starship Terran, ground control here, come in.”

  Harris stares at his chair’s controls, bewildered, “How do I use this damn thing?” He commands.

  Edwards leaves his station, and shows the Admiral how to use the command chair’s smaller consoles. All the while, the other spacecraft moves farther away.

  “Admiral Harris here, I take it you’re going to tell me about this other ship?”

  The reply follows quickly, “It’s Chinese, and apparently whoever is in command, has sto
len it.”

  “Stolen a spaceship?” Harris says in surprise.

  “That’s what the Chinese Prime Minster is claiming.” The disembodied voice replies.

  Andrew stares at the other ship though the main window for a moment, and then pulls up its image on his console.

  Joe has crossed the main hangar deck, and is now at the walkway to the first engine room. Each engine occupies its own area, with separate access ways and independent controls. He uses the three pronged tool to access one of the engine rooms, and then calibrates the first engine using the control pad that George left behind. The task only takes a few minutes. Joe simply watches as the Gamin control pad reports the ongoing status. The calibration process is displayed as a graph that fills in. Joe smiles again, as he thinks, I love the way this thing works.

  Seated in the command chair, Admiral Harris stares at the ship ahead of him. Though its size is similar to the Terran, it has some obvious design differences. Its single main engine is surrounded by multiple banks of sub-light engines, while each side of the ship has a number of long bulbous pods attached.

  Harris points ahead and orders, “Engage thrusters, maneuver to follow, then activate the sub-light engines.”

  “Yes sir,” Edwards intones, excitement fills his voice.

  The Terran slowly swings around the few degrees needed, then accelerates to catch the other spacecraft.

  The bridge speakers come to life, the voice that resounds, does so in halting English. “Stay back or face the consequences.”

  Admiral Harris scowls, then touches his chair’s console, “We’re in open space. You will not tell us where we can and can’t go,” he adds defiantly.

  The voice from the Chinese ship once again fills the bridge, “I will fire on your ship if you do not turn away.”

  Joe is unaware of these events as he casually walks from the first engine area, to the second. He is oblivious to the threats from the other spacecraft. Entering the second engine area, he activates the calibration unit, which dutifully begins its task. He stands back and watches the colors play over the ship’s second main drive while he mulls over the amazing piece of engineering. Properly calibrated, these babies get us to a speed many thousands of times the speed of light. Glancing at the graph, he can see he has plenty of time before it will be completed.

  The Terran is not as fast as the Chinese ship, which annoys Edwards, and infuriates Harris, who demands, “Catch up to that ship!”

  Edwards looks intently at his controls, then in a moments clarity, knows what he must do.

  Andrew studies the other ship as it edges away. He frowns as his attention is drawn to movement from the ship’s flanks.

  The casing belonging to two of the large pods blows off, and floats away from the ship. A large missile exits one of these pods, then rockets toward the Terran. It is followed seconds later by another. The missiles are each powered by a sub-light engine, running at maximum thrust. They approach so swiftly that even though Andrew is watching, he is unable to comprehend what is happening fast enough to take any action.

  Edwards looks up just as his finger taps the main drive control. “We’ll catch them now,” he states smugly. He notices the incoming missiles just as the Terran lurches forward at the speed of light. What the! His eyes open wide.

  Joe is alarmed to see his calibration overridden, and the engine in front of him has engaged. He puts a hand to his mouth, momentarily stunned, I have no idea what this will do. He backs away from the engine, a little fearful, then hurries toward the closed entryway.

  The first missile strikes the front of the Terran at an astronomical velocity, its nuclear warhead, the most powerful ever conceived, detonates. Vast areas on the forward section of the ship buckle, while armor in the vicinity of the detonation is instantly vaporized. The Gamin systems cope with the detonation, however not everything on board is Gamin.

  Joe feels a slight shudder through the deck plating, which alarms him even further. In addition, he is unable to open the doorway to get out. Turning back to look at the engine, he is further perplexed to see that it is now shut down. Trapped, and I have no idea what’s going on.

  Andrew stares in shock as reports of system failures immediately begin to appear on his console. He turns to Harris and says in alarm, “GUS is down!”

  Harris frowns in confusion, “GUS? So!”

  Andrew is flabbergasted, “GUS.” He repeats, exasperation in his tone, “The Gamin Umbilical System is the computer that interfaces all of our technology to the alien consoles.”

  Edwards stares at his console in total confusion. The Gamin systems have reset, and no longer display in English. He quickly figures out that not only did the main drive disengage, the panel now displays thruster and sub-light engine controls only.

  Andrew hollers at Edwards, “Close the bridge armor!”

  Edwards looks at Andrew, “What?” He glances at his console in confusion once more, suddenly aware of how alien it really is without the translations. “I’m busy, you do it,” he says, reaching for his control panel.

  Andrew notices what Edwards is about to do and shouts. “NO! The RMC is down.”

  But he is too late.

  Edwards taps his console at the exact same instant the second missile strikes the bridge area. The sub-light engines disengage immediately, decelerating the ship almost instantly. With the Relativistic Mass Compensator offline, internal gravity controls are virtually nonexistent.

  Harris is hurled at great speed from his chair, his back arching as he flies through the air. The guards around the room are thrown violently forward, or to the floor, where they tumble over. Edwards and Andrew are slammed bone jarringly into their consoles. Andrew hits his forehead, dazing him. While Harris is still airborne, screaming in terror, the kinetic energies of the blast travel through the ship. The bulk of this force travels to the inside of the bridge, shattering the ship’s main display in an instant. Millions upon millions of tiny shards explode inward, shredding the still screaming Harris. Edwards grimaces in pain, desperately trying to breathe through his crushed chest. He glances up just in time to see his impending death. The top half of his body vanishes from the onslaught of deadly projectiles. Even as the wash of blood from Harris splashes across the room, the shards continue to perform their gruesome duty. The unprotected guards arrayed around fare no better than Harris. They add their bloody remains to the carnage as they too, are shredded by the volley of projectiles. Andrew, heavily stunned, is only aware of his impending death for a split second. It is mercifully quick, and for him, painless.

  The Terran’s powerful superstructure groans in protest, water pipes rupture, some of the nuclear reactors scram, while throughout the ship, deck plate’s buckle. Internal gravity fluctuates, then reestablishes itself, adding to the chaos.

  Emma is one of the lucky ones, she is hurled into her fresh hydroponics racks. Rather than coming to a sudden stop, she is slowed by the plants and their flexible fixtures. Laying there, bruised but alive, she looks up as water pours from fractured water pipes.

  The kitchen hands, however, are not so lucky. Cooks are thrown into cupboards, pots and pans hurtle like deadly projectiles around the room, making the knives seem relatively safe. Seconds after the impact, the area is devoid of life, blood drips from the walls, and sizzles on hot cook tops.

  Joe is flung into the doorway, and then crumples to the floor in agony. Gasping for breath he picks himself up from the floor, then clutches his left shoulder. He moves it carefully, not broken, not dislocated, but damn it hurts. Satisfied that he is okay, he makes his way to the controls, where he quickly reviews the ship’s systems.

  Tapping the internal communications icon, Joe contacts the bridge, “Andrew mate, what’s going on?”

  While Joe waits for a reply, he pulls up the ship’s schematics, and begins to examine them carefully. A familiar symbol sends a chill through his body. The Gamin symbol for an inhospitable environment rests over the bridge area. Oh no!

&nbs
p; Joe stabs at the communications symbol again, and says in distress, “Bridge, come in!” C’mon Andrew mate.

  Silence is his only reply. A sense of emptiness overcomes him as he reviews more system reports, they’re all gone, just like that... gone.

  With tears welling in his eyes, Joe taps the console once more, “Reactor control, come in.”

  A voice quickly responds, sounding quite alarmed, “Reactor control here. We’re pretty messed up, but no radiation leaks. What the blazes is going on?”

  Joe sighs, “I have no idea,” he stifles a sob, and continues. “The bridge crew,” he pauses to gather strength, “they’re all dead.” Andrew!

  The reply from reactor control is slow in coming and spoken solemnly, “Understood.”

  Joe’s mind races, yet fails to stay focused, Andrew, my old mate. We worked together on so many projects back in Australia. He gazes around the engine room wistfully, then we joined the crew of this ship, and what a trek that was. Walking on strange new worlds, meeting alien races. He nods his head and manages a slight smile, how many astronomers get to do that? Your dreams came true my old friend. Farewell.

  Consequences

  Joe stares at the engine room console and sighs. The ship’s systems have sealed many areas completely off, including the two engine rooms, therefore he is trapped. He has little choice but to control the ship from where he is. The small view screen embedded into the panel is a poor substitute for the one on the bridge.

  With crossed fingers, Joe activates the ship’s thrusters, then slowly turns the ship around to head back toward Space Station Unity. Only when he is one hundred percent sure that everything is functioning normally, does he engage the sub-light engines. Even then, he only runs them at their lowest setting, meaning that the return trip will take them several hours.