Iron Five

by Seon O. Stronghold

  I touch down “Guys…status?”

  “Terri here…”

  “Akita, good to go…”

  “A few scratches but Hound is okay…”

  “Pitbull is alive and kicking…”

  I am relieved. My computer tells me that all is well except a minor armor breach; that first missile had almost gotten me. “Okay let’s go!”

  “Alpha, we’ve got half hour to cover seven hundred miles…”

  Bull is right, but we have to try. I push the throttle forward and lift into the air once more.

  “Iron Five, you’ve got twenty nine minutes…”

  “…Copy base. We’re going for it.” The ground falls away as we push toward our targets “…Bull, get me locked on. I need a flight path.” My tracking system finds our prey through Pitbull’s sensors and gives me an intercept route. My engine screams. The ground below becomes a blur and the speed indicator soon reads a thousand miles per hour and climbing.

  At this rate, we will be cutting it close. My virtual map, courtesy SysDef’s Drone surveillance, shows our escapees gunning it across the desert.

  “Bull, can you get a shot?”

  “…already on it and locking one now...”

  “Take it when you have it. Let’s try and slow ‘em down.”

  I glance toward Pitbull’s MAV and the long range Rail gun lights up. Blue and white arcs of electricity ripple over its split rail and launch soundlessly; the highly charged projectile traveling at nearly light speed should be hitting its mark right now. No sooner than I think this, the display shows one of the Booster Tanks, as part of it disintegrates and then the entire thing falls to the desert floor.

  “Good hit…”

  “Iron Five, Base is picking up heavy activity just outside of Dunan. You’ve got multiple hostiles about to launch, get out of there.”

  “Alpha…” Bull’s rail gun does not fire the next charge “…I’ve got em on my scan too; about twenty missile tanks and a heavy launcher.”

  These Deepcore guys must be high profile. Missile tanks could be dealt with but a heavy launcher? Those things launch Hunters, Cruise missiles and ICBM’s.

  “Okay guys bug out. Let’s get deck-side.”

  I turn hard and drop to two hundred feet. Outrunning a Hunter missile is difficult in the air so we’ll be better off getting on foot and going dark till it’s passed but my systems remain calm. All I’m receiving is an enemy lock threat, but nothing has been launched; I know when I’ve been beat.

  “Base…?”

  “Go Commander…”

  “I need to know where that entourage is headed.”

  Static hits me “…on it.”

  And with time against us, the ground rushes by at a thousand, eight hundred miles per hour; we’ve gotta get to our ship.

  ********

  My team and I rip pass Dunan. The sprawling city lies thirty kilometers off to my right while directly ahead; our base awaits us some fifteen away. I reduce power and jam my emergency stoppers to full extension. The large rectangular slats would rise up and out at different angles and immediately cut most of my forward momentum. The powerful displacement of energy from this maneuver jolts me violently as my MAV slows hard. Then we descend without much thought.

  “Huski to Base Control…” I read the code on my visor “…Iron-Five on approach, over.”

  “Iron Five. You’re cleared for entry, touch down on Pad Zero Five.”

  We drop to the red-dusted, metallic landing zone and almost run our MAV’s to the hangar. After decontamination we are all docked and grabbing gear from our quarters while large machines load the MAV’s onboard our Starship. With gear in hand, I head out and down the corridor. My helmet, attached to my waist hits my leg with every stride and as I pass Mirana’s office…

  “Captain…”

  I stop and turn to see her approaching. She’s all business as usual. “…what are you doing here? The briefing has been uploaded to your system…we have…”

  “I’m trying to get to my ship is what I’m doing.”

  She raises an eyebrow “Captain, there are shorter ways to your ship. That Deepcore fleet launched a half hour ago.”

  What in the galaxy is wrong with this woman? I take a deep breath “…I gotta go…”

  “Then Go.”

  “You stopped me…”

  “Captain…” Her voice is steady “…if you lose these rebels, all of our efforts would have been for nothing.”

  ‘Our efforts’…What the hell did she do to be a part of this? I wait in the silence. Of all the women in the galaxy, why does this one get under my skin? She open’s her office door and closes it. I hate not having the last word. Why do I even bother? I begin to move again until the cavernous hanger finally comes into view.

  ********

  “Alpha, the weather’s about to get really nasty, we’ve got about twenty minutes before everything goes to dust.”

  I’m strapping the X shaped harness across my chest after sitting in one of the rear seats of the cockpit when Terri informs me of this.

  “Okay we’re a go.” I give the order and he rolls us out of the hangar and toward one of the launching pads outside. As we transition from within the base to the open air of Keden, I notice that the weather is a bit worse than when we had just arrived. Red and brown dust whips past the windshield of our Starship, with winds reading from sixty to seventy five miles per hour. But thanks to Magnetic Technology, it’ll take a bit more than this to make our liftoff a problem.

  “Base…Iron Five has window, all is a go, over.” Terrier is our Starship Pilot. I’m the communications officer and Bull is our Co-pilot and weapons specialist. Akita and Hound are the engineers who make sure that all the mechanical aspects of this bird run problem free. But at the moment, we’re all strapped into our respective seats and awaiting launch.

  “Iron Five, Base copies your window. You are cleared for launch…”

  She sounds no different than normal but I notice that the channel stays open but I ignore it.

  The cockpit shakes a bit as Terri begins our lift off. The Ship leaves the pad and the sensation of our thrusters counteracting the planet winds makes my head drift a little. I check the information that has been uploaded concerning our Deepcore buddies. They went off world forty eight minutes ago in a ship named Deep six. What type of ship though; the Intel doesn’t say.

  “…good luck Iron Five…”

  Pitbull and Terrier turn and look at each other. I am sure we are all thinking the same thing; since when has she ever cared if we had good or bad luck? The question is written on both their faces. But the Base and ground are no longer visible. It has all been replaced by high altitude dust and sand so I relax and let the G-forces glue me to my seat. I feel the ship angle more steeply. Everything outside of my window is becoming distant and shrinking further behind.

  I smile to myself.

  We are leaving this Rock. She’s back there. Who cares? I do, and I hate the confusion of it.

  The air clears now. A few flat clouds rocket by and disappear behind us. The sky becomes darker. Our engines rumble and the sound of it grows deep and deeper as we rise. It seems lodged somewhere in the back of my head and echoes throughout my mind. Then the sky gets even darker and Keden’s spaceport is now visible in the distance. A huge disk shaped station with lights traveling to and from it; and then it is gone.

  We are about to go to Hyper Light. I want to contact base again, but what for? What reason is there? I want to think of a plausible one yet it eludes me, but these thoughts fade away as we enter the vacuum of space.

  “Iron five…”

  I listen to Mirana’s voice with mixed feelings. Maybe I am a bit embarrassed by our fight…or a lot disappointed that we didn’t fix it. I hate feeling confused.

  “…you are now out of our airspace and hand over to Starport Command is now in effect. Is all a go?”

  Starport Command is the communications deck on any local Starp
ort. While space stations are the access points to and from planet surfaces, Starports are the stations that launch travelers from solar system to solar system. Each inhabited or utilized solar system has one Starport or more depending on its population and or purpose. This system, K-1, has a single Starport along with three inhabited planets, five mining worlds and an F1-III class sun, which simply means a Yellow-White Giant.

  Why is she on comms?

  “Iron Five copies hand over…”

  I hate having to talk to her…no I don’t.

  “…Switching on next transmission, we’re a go.”

  The com stays open. I wish she would say something. My hand slides across the digital tab that would disconnect us from Keden.

  “…come back in one piece Iron Five.”

  For some unknown reason, I am annoyed at her for these words. Why didn’t she say this to my face? My finger hits the key and we all listen to the new sounds of K-1 space traffic control.

  “After all the thousands of years that men and women have co-existed, we’re still baffled by them.”

  Terrier’s smiling face beams in my direction and I can’t help but add a groaning grin to this awkward moment. “Shut up and drive.”

  Everyone’s laughter hits me at once while Terri works his magic, and in a moment, we clip our helmets in place and the familiar tug on my senses takes control as we accelerate to Hyper Light speed and punch through the fabric of space at eighty three point three, three, three times the speed of light.

  ********

  The engines on any standard spacecraft have what is known as an Eon Drive. The Eon Drive is just a larger and more amped up version of the original Sol Combustion Engine; the difference being the scale of the output when it comes to power. And so it is that Sol Combustion powers our galaxy, from the smallest of planetary machines to the massive Jump Gates on any Starport.

  The lights of stars in the distance blur, and two hours and some minutes later, we come out of Hyper Light and rocket toward the massive outline of K-1’s lone Starport.

  This is the part I hate.

  As soon as Terri engages our braking system, we hit a cushioned, invisible wall. Everything slows down so rapidly that no one in existence has ever been known to resist throwing up the first few times; except infants for some long-winded reason.

  The effect is known as a Bio-Magnetic Reaction. It is caused due to the use of Magnetech or Magnetic Technology. Magnetic Technology is the reason we don’t go careening off into space like in the old days. Gone are those historical days of tedious calculations and intersecting an object or planet’s trajectory at just the right time. Through Magnetics, powered by Sol Combustion, we are able to maneuver in space, speed up and slow down, change course on a whim and more.

  Weapons used in space also rely on Magnetech. Missiles, being the most widely used in vacuum, use Magnetic Technology to track targets. However, as great as this breakthrough was and is, it’s the, getting used to it, which makes it rough on the human body.

  Two billion miles from Keden, I select the communications module “K-1 Traffic Control…Captain Richard Gant of the UNA Mirage requesting docking.”

  UNA…I think of home. The United Northern Alliance, home for me and Earthfront Galactic. But is it still my home? I feel so disconnected.

  “UNA Mirage…” The voice is male, and professional “…Docking request acknowledged, cleared for entry, you have Guidance on link. Welcome Captain Gant.”

  I check the linkup and Terri sets us on autopilot in order for the Station’s Magnetic Guidance system to pull us safely in. There is a slight jolt as the ship goes from manual command to auto. In all my time of space travel I still haven’t gotten over the fascination of all this.

  “Now to catch these bastards…”

  “We’ll find them Cap…”

  Terri’s visor hides his expression but I imagine the look of determination on his face; I know him well enough.

  Outside of the ship, the awesome picture that hangs there is astounding as the massive complex appears to slide closer. The monstrous, flat, half-disk-shape, made from Immix; a Kedenian bluish metal, reflects the solar system’s sunlight with a shiny azure glare.

  “This Port reminds me of those in the Glebe System.”

  Pitbull’s words pull me away from outside.

  “Your home system..?” Hound asks.

  “…Yeah…”

  Terri chimes in “…Paiz right..?”

  “Yep and thanks to you guys, I haven’t been home in over four years”

  “Welcome to the club, my brother…” I jump in.

  “I knew a girl on Paiz…” Akita as usual “…really nice women in that system too...”

  We all laugh and chant him about this until the conversation fizzles off and we each go back to our own thoughts. Stars and spiral Galaxies millions of light years away display the vastness of space beyond us, but what I see directly outside is also just as spectacular. Thousands of windows in perfect lines, like rows of colored lights set against the black expanse of deep space, glimmer. A movement draws my attention; a monster Hauler, floating slowly away from one of three very large rectangular docking bays below us. Opening up into the nothingness of space, they are the entrances and exits for thousands of ships on a daily basis. This hauler, moving away from us now, is a Titan that looks a few hundred times our size. Pitbull had told me that he once worked on a freighter. As for me, I have never done time on an Ore Ship but I have heard many a story from the guys that did. And theirs is a life of just as much adventure as any military pilot.

  The com breaks my train of thought. “UNA Mirage…you are cleared for Docking bay T-seventeen, enjoy your time with us.”

  I give the required reply and let the smooth sailing of the Autopilot take us in. I think of the thousands of ships docked here; some leaving, some just arriving, others parked indefinitely; owned by those who make this port their home. In reality, we are just another droplet in the galactic bucket.

  Looking out my window I wonder about our Deepcore friends. Where are they? When is their jump? Where are they going? If we lose them now…Mirana’s words replay in my ear. “All of our efforts would have been for nothing” Why do those words sting me?

  “Alpha…?”

  I turn toward Terri

  “…we’ll get em…”

  It’s like he’s read my mind.

  “Yeah…” It’s Hound now “…Let’s get on deck, snoop around, and catch these shits.”

  “Leave the snooping around to me and Akita.” With a raised palm I quiet their disappointment “…we’ll get more done, and done quietly if it’s just two of us.”

  “Okay Cap…I have no problems with that.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t Hound. You guys could go have some fun and wait for us. More than likely, they’re not gonna be making a jump within the next twelve hours.”

  The lights from the Starport Jump Gate flash. Out in the distance, one of its huge, two mile-long cylinders, separated from the complex but connected via powerful magnetics, undulates with blue energy and in about a minute, a light exits the mouth of the monstrous barrel and disappears into space.

  Jump Gates use Sol Technology on a scale much larger than any other mechanism in galactic use. The power this one generates is equivalent to a class V sun and sends a starship to any other solar system along its targeting trajectory at the speed of eighty three point three, three, three light years per hour.

  I’ve asked a million times about the calculations and how they came up with this number, but the mathematics concerning this has always been way above my head; and like I’ve often said after asking every time; I don’t care, as long as it keeps working.

  What we have to do now is no easy task. We will need to get to a travel desk in the terminal first; gonna have to figure out how to get the information we need from an agent even though it will be against policy. In these times, nothing beats a face to face. It is never safe to work the syste
m via computer when it involves breaking the rules.

  The rippling energy from the Jump Gate pulls my eyes to it again. I know what it is like to be shot out the end of it. What is funny about this though is that you don’t feel a thing after the initial jolt.

  It will be about twenty minutes before another jump takes place as the Gate has to recharge and recalibrate for the next destination. As far as I know, this Gate only sends you to one of three systems, the trick will be finding out which of them our targets intend to visit.

  FACT

  In the past, the idea of jumping from one solar system to another had always been a fascination of men. Could a Starship be built with the ability to do this without the aid of a Jump Gate? The problem however, was never just the inability to outfit a ship with an Eon Drive capable of eighty three point three, three, three light years per hour, but was also navigating the area between systems. Known as The Verge, it is often filled with anomalies and obstacles that could prove catastrophic if disturbed.

  Like projectiles that are launched by weapons in vacuum, anything shot into space, be it by collision or expulsion, becomes a possible doomsday missile for space craft, stations, or if big enough, even planets. Without the Jump Gates and their computer generated trajectories, we would all be shooting through space blindly and without any way of knowing what was in our paths; imagine the chaos.

  CHAPTER 5 - DESTINATION SOLACE

  Leaving the ship behind, I walk with the team. The brightly lit corridor is wide and through its large windows, as we pass by, the vast expanse of deep space looms. Stars flicker against the inky blackness and billions of light-years away, three spiral galaxies complete the portrait. So much, so vast, but on the inside, the human traffic here is sparse. This terminal is primarily used for military and government business so this comes as no surprise. The more populated areas would be those on the other side of the station. The Freight and civilian terminals are often filled with hectic workers, tourists, business folk and anyone else with enough credits to burn.

  Our ship is in a private, air-locked hangar and after docking, I acquired the usual security code, ensuring its safety from any unwanted guests. As any military operative who have traversed space would tell you, pirates don’t just steel ships and cargo. Selling military grade parts can be a very lucrative business too if you have the right connections. Stepping out onto a wide sidewalk that runs along a busy street, we go over our plans before splitting up. Bull, Terri and Hound head off to find us proper lodging, while Akita and I continue toward the departures terminal to look for answers. We all agree to meet back at an obscure bar and grill…should be about an hour or so.