by Joe Crouch
Terranus: Renaissance
Book 2 of the ‘Terranus: Origins’ series.
By Joe Crouch
Terranus: Renaissance
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Author’s Notes
Chapter 1
"Alpha-Five, stay in formation, everyone else, arm your forward Gatling plasma blasters and be ready, sensors detect them at a distance of ten thousand meters and closing fast, we cannot lose formation," Sean barked over comms. Packed in tightly together were eight of the new Class-V ‘Scimitar’ Terran Fighters that had been commissioned before the invasion of Earth. Their smooth curves and extended wings gave them an aerodynamic flow and maneuverability that couldn’t be matched by any of the other race’s atmosphere capable vessels. “Stay sharp,” he said, reminding the inexperienced pilots that a clear mind was crucial, “They will be here within moments, remain focused and fire your forward weapons on my signal.” The fighters, while small and agile, packed a mighty punch with their high-powered plasma blasters as well as the Mark-IV Nightshade missiles that were tucked tightly under the hull.
“I see them, Captain, I’m gaining a lock now,” came a rough voice over the comms. They punched through the blinding cloud cover of Earth, a light breeze gusted over their vessels providing some gentle turbulence. Passing through a break in the clouds Sean looked to his feet, the belly of his fighter vanished to reveal the fractured, hilly terrain below. The inside of his cockpit flashed a pale blue as enemy contacts came into locking distance, single target acquired read the monotone female AI, arming weapons – ready to fire on your command. Flipping his concentration to the approaching skirmish, a stream of information rolled down a transparent film across his visor letting him know the enemy craft had formed into a ring and advanced cautiously towards their tight bank of eight. He gripped tightly on the ribbed flight stick as he became increasingly nervous. A weak saltiness built along his taut lips from the stream of sweat which dripped down his face.
“Alright everyone, good luck, make sure to fly to the best of your ability and be home tonight to see your wives,” Sean addressed in a calm tone. He wasn’t nervous, he had fought against worse odds before, although it didn’t always go as planned. A chorus of muffled affirmatives came back over the radio, pushing their way through the growing static as the enemy attempted to scramble their comms. Looking down at the overabundance of knobs and switches which adorned the flight console around him he found the countermeasures, deploying them yielded almost instant results as the comms channels began to clear.
Advancing towards them, the vast ring the enemy formed became visible, it was a great piece of piloting, he knew, but the tactic seemed completely foreign to him. “Now, engage,” he shouted over the comms system while pressing down hard on the trigger. A low, deep rumble vibrated through the cockpit as the weapons spooled up and spewed out bursts of plasma at an extreme rate of fire. The ring of Xuron fighters, which were of a new design, peeled away from their formation, slowing in mid-flight allowing the Terran vessels to speed past them, “Shit,” he shouted while peering behind him at the circling back fighter which was now on his tail.
Veering violently from left to right he tried his hardest to shake the Xuron off but the creature was persistent as it began to open fire with its own plasma weapons. He was rocked in his seat as the shield of the Scimitar took the brunt of the impact with a bright blue spark of energy that wrapped around the fighter. Across the battlefield, he saw situations similar to his with the other Terran pilots arcing across the sky trying to avoid the heavy plasma fire that illuminated the clouds a luminous green. With the flick of a switch on his dashboard the rear-camera activated and popped into his vision, the bulky design of the Xuron fighter left a lot to be desired with its bleak grey and brown pitted organic surface, its blocky construction almost looked rushed. With another flash of the shields he knew it was time to act and with a yank to the left he pulled the fighter around in a tight turn, he watched on as the Xuron vessel lumbered around in a wide arc. He knew he had the upper-hand with his agility, the Terran’s new hybrid grav and thrust drives provided all the sharp turns he needed with the raw speed of a chemical burn.
As the Xuron fighter made its way around, Sean pulled back on the flight stick and brought the Scimitar around in a loop to end up above the hulking mass the enemy called a ship. With another hard press on the trigger, the ship’s weapons spooled into existence and spewed hundreds of tiny plasma bolts towards the target hull, the damage was immediate as tears ripped across the outer skin of the ship which began to twist and contort. In a bright flash of light, the vessel exploded outwards into a cloud of green gas with its various components streaking towards the mountainous surface below in tiny meteors of flame. “Gotcha,” he cheered, but wasting no time he scanned the skies and picked out his next target, a lone Xuron ranger on the outskirts of the dogfight taking pot-shots at the Terran vessels.
Pressing down hard on the accelerator the chemical engines burst into life, pinning him back into his cushioned seat as the G-Forces played havoc with his organs. A bright flame billowed out from his thrusters as he streaked away from the cloud cover, an information panel flashed into existence on his HUD displaying all relevant data on his target. It was skinny and had a low profile, the weapons fixed on the top and bottom of the craft were designed for range, the ship would circle battles picking off its targets one-by-one without ever engaging in a direct fight.
The ‘Sniper Ship’ took notice of Sean as long streaks of dark energy skimmed past his cockpit window, he threw his ship about haphazardly to avoid the deadly accurate weapons that were aimed his way. I’m never gonna get close enough he thought, switching his sensors onto their long-range variants he locked onto the Xuron, a flatline beep let him know missiles were locked. With a tap of the small red button inlaid on his flight stick, two Nightshade missiles dropped from his hull and streaked out across the sky leaving two thick black trails behind them. He listened to their signature high-pitched shriek they made at hypersonic speeds. Drawing closer their nose cones detached and ten mini-rockets lanced out of each, slamming into their target. The lead missiles neutralised the craft’s outer shielding, allowing the follow-up explosives to tear into the ship, destroying it from the inside in a bright blue explosion. There wasn’t much left of the vessel apart from the usual cloud of green smoke.
He was already down three pilots but the Xuron numbers were equally diminished, if he kept his head and got his next move right the fight could be over within minutes. “This is Alpha-Nine, I’m coming in from the outskirts of the battle, I’m going to pass over the enemy and tear into them, just keep ‘em occupied.” He was met with muffled affirmatives as he pulled hard and brought the Scimitar around for another attacking run. Two Xuron ships flared up on his HUD as his dual plasma weapons each individually locked on to their targets, he felt the confidence flowing through him, he would ret
urn to base a hero, four kills in a single fight was a great feat, especially for him. As his finger began to twitch and press the trigger an alarm blared out from his computer, pull up, pull up it said, but before he could react one of the Xuron ships appeared across his transparent window filling his view, with a scream he covered his eyes and slammed into the side of the hulking organism. A bright white light filled the cockpit as the two fused into a single mass of twisted metals and flesh leaving nothing recognisable of the individual vessels.
Simulation End
“Damn,” Sean sighed as the two large words were displayed across his simulation helmet in belittling red letters, “I really thought I’d at least do better than last time.”
“Stay still, we’ll remove the gear for you,” came a familiar voice from his side. With a pop, the power lines were decoupled from the hulking virtual reality helmet which engulfed his entire head. The mask hissed open as it split down the middle and curled back away from his face, revealing his skin to the bitterly cold air that swirled around the temperature controlled room. Banks of computers and servers lined every wall to provide the raw processing power needed to calculate all the variables within the Scimitar simulation program. Looking down he uncoupled the harnesses which held him in place and threw them to the side with a huff, he was annoyed at himself for not beating the high score once again, it was just another mediocre performance to add to his list.
“Can I get out now?” he huffed impatiently. Since the Mar’Ell was assigned to a deep space assignment all he had in life was his house and a job he hated. There was one redeeming influence on his life, though – Taris. “Come on,” he pestered, “Are my vitals clear or what, I just want to get a cup of coffee and get this show over with, no doubt you’ll want me back tomorrow.”
“We will, you’re right,” the lead scientist admitted. He was an incredibly stylish man, his rough stubble was well-groomed, a hair was never out of place on his thick head of combed back hair. “More tests need to be done, Ambassador, and you’re the most capable of testing them at this precise moment with our… actual pilots off fighting in the war.”
“Alright, alright, just stop nagging me, can I get up now?” he asked.
“You can get up,” the scientist admitted with a smile.
“Finally.” With a push on the large chair’s armrests, Sean hoisted himself out from the cushioned seat and slid down the enormous leg rest until his feet were safely grounded. The room always gave him the creeps, the technology was well beyond any technical knowledge he had, the number of buttons alone on the face of every server scared him. Relaxing, he stretched his muscles, he always found himself racing with adrenaline after the simulations and needed a way to calm himself, exercise and a big mug of coffee would do the trick – For now. “So, how did I do Sergeant?” he asked the large man that sat behind an office-like wooden desk.
“Rubbish, I don’t even know why we’re bothering with you, you’ve grown too accustomed to that alien technology and don’t respect good, old Earth values,” he bemoaned in his usual raspy tone. The man was someone to be afraid of, he was a loose cannon and would snap at a moment’s notice, the complete opposite to the scientist. His hair was greasy and unkempt; his uniform was riddled with creases and his attitude stunk of someone who was passed up for a promotion one too many times. He had no idea how someone like the Sergeant made his way to a secure assignment such as this but there he sat with a constant frown scrawled across his rough, pitted face.
“Yeah, respecting good ole Earth values has gotten you far hasn’t it, Sergeant,” Sean teased, he knew it was the quickest way to make the operator lose his cool, prompting yet another investigation into his procedures and practices. He looked on as the man’s nostrils flared and his face turned a bright red as he bit his lip as hard as he could, he would have liked nothing more than to floor Sean here and now, but the Navy’s prized asset couldn’t be touched.
Circling the room, Sean made his way over to a table full of refreshments, grabbed a polystyrene cup and poured himself a serving of the worst coffee from here to the Ioution home world. His face scrunched up as he took a sip of the sour tar people in this facility called a drink, but there was something oddly endearing about it, he almost enjoyed the foul taste and saw it as a challenge to finish his cup every time. “So, what do we have planned tomorrow… Erm…” he asked, looking towards the scientist as he drew a blank on his name.
“Richard,” the scientist laughed, “Richard Wood, and for tomorrow?” he pondered for a moment, “Tomorrow, I would like to run the Scimitar simulation again but maybe reduce the damage the Xuron ships inflict.”
“It feels pretty in-line with real life to me,” Sean interjected.
“You could very well be right, but only a handful of pilots have managed to defeat the sim so something is fundamentally wrong somewhere along the chain from training to here,” Richard mused, turning to read the simulation printouts which were spewing out from the machine into a crumpled mess on the floor.
“Or maybe we’re just underestimating the threat?” Sean questioned, “They’re deadly, smart, agile, possess a natural strength we as Humans could only ever dream of, they’re a formidable enemy and this world is shrugging their presence off because of one – Lucky – victory.”
“A victory you were instrumental in,” Richard turned his head with a questioning look in his brow, “Do you not believe we as a race can defeat this threat, even with our advancements in technology?”
“It’s been a few months since they were defeated and forced off Earth, and I wasn’t the only one to do that by the way, there were thousands of people who gave their lives that day to protect the planet, I might be some pathetic poster child for the whole thing but don’t give me all the credit,” Sean scowled.
“Alright, I’m sorry I hit a nerve,” Richard said, putting his hands up as if to say he wasn’t going to push the subject any further. Sean was apathetic to the whole thing, since that day his life had been a living hell, he couldn’t leave his house without being stopped and interrogated about it all over again. He understood people were interested in what he had to say but there wasn’t anymore he could share, he killed the President of the Empire and that was that. He longed for the day when the Mar’Ell would return, if it ever returned, and swept him away on another adventure into the joys of space, he had grown to detest his own race and just wanted to get away.
“Can I go now?” Sean asked as a sombre air clouded around him, bringing his morale down to rock bottom once again.
“Sure, but as always, be careful of the front entrance, I’ve heard it’s worse than usual,” Richard sighed, feeling his friends internal pain.
“Worse?” Sean groaned, “How could it be worse than last time…” With a nod to the workers who populated the room, he grabbed his dark leather jacket, threw it over his shoulder and strolled out the room into a long, winding corridor that led to the reception area. He caught a glimpse of himself in the reflective windows that lined the hallway walls, he was a mess, he hadn’t shaved in weeks, his normal cropped hair had grown out and looked as if a bird had made its nest there. Shaking his head, he grabbed the long metal railing and pretended his hand was surfing along its surface, skipping over the breaks that led to other rooms with numerous more experiments and simulations that were on the go. The bright overhead lights burned his squinting eyes, he should have waited for them to readjust but he was in a hurry to get home and crash out. The nods and smiles he got from almost everyone he walked past still creeped him out, they knew everything there was to know about him, but he knew nothing about them, it was the life he had been given in these modern times.
As he opened the door to the large reception area the female receptionist sat behind the desk gave him a panicked look, he knew what it meant, he could hear the crowd outside the one-way view glass entrance doors. He gave the young women a defeated smile and made his way across the polished marble floor to the door that led outside. With a single
hand placed around the handle, he let out a sigh and pushed open the glass frame. The instant he was exposed bright flashes bombarded him from every direction blurring his vision, people to his left and right shouted his name trying their hardest to draw his attention.
“Is it true you’re testing a new fighter?”
“We’ve heard that you’re having an affair, can you comment on that?”
“Why are you still on Earth and not out there championing the fight against the Xuron?”
He covered his face with his jacket and walked down the stone steps as fast as he could. Reporters followed his every move since they had moulded him into a champion the entire planet could get behind in a time of war, he didn’t ask for this, he didn’t want this, they pushed the story without a second thought to his personal life or what he wanted. Even a quick peek from under his jacket to get his bearings on where he was walking was an invitation for the blinding flashes to assault him, he dreamt of sitting at home, watching the game with a beer and relaxing.
“Sean,” came a voice from below him, “Sean,” the voice repeated, this time tugging at his shirt for his attention. He looked out to see a little girl stood there with his picture and a pen, she was the cutest thing he had ever seen with her twin pigtails and pink dress on, her innocent eyes melted him to his core. “Can I have your autograph,” she smiled with genuine happiness. He thought about it for a moment, nodding, he removed his jacket and went to pick up the pen lying on the paper, but the instant he removed his coat reporters crowded around him and pushed the girl aside to get their own close-up pictures of him. He was done, finished with the world, with the jacket firmly back over his head he ran down the steps and slid into the waiting car, with a slam the driver shut his door, got into the vehicle and sped away. He sprawled out on the backseat as the windows faded to a dark black, making sure no one could see inside or get any pictures, he had escaped them for now, but they would be back tomorrow, and the next day, and the one after that.