Author: Wilson Harp
Date: 2012-06-14 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction; Fiction; Aliens; Fantasy
Description: Earth has made first contact with an alien race. At the historic first meeting, an ambush was launched that put peace for humanity out of reach. Colonel Kyle Martin was there that day. It was his leadership and the bravery of his marines that saved what little hope mankind had. When Earth was threatened with invasion, Martin again felt the weight of war pressing down on him. Known as the Butcher of Hyderabad for his decisions in the Indian War, Martin seemed a poor choice to guard the peace but the perfect man to organize the forces of Earth to defend itself from the coming alien scourge. With

Bright Horizons

By Wilson Harp

Copyright © 2012 by Wilson Harp

All rights reserved

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Table of Contents

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 1

31 March 2042

It was a few minutes before 1500 when Colonel Kyle Martin strode into the outer office. He was a Marine through and through; ramrod straight back without the effort that it would seem to take and eyes that constantly moved, taking in every detail of a room. He exuded the confidence of a senior officer and the wariness of a man used to danger. He spoke briefly with the secretary and then sat in a chair to wait.

General Davies took a deep breath and prepared himself for this meeting. He had never seen Colonel Martin shaken, not even during the hearings that occurred some six years earlier. If that had gone differently, he would be hard pressed to imagine Martin still in uniform, and that would mean that this meeting, and indeed this mission, would be much different.

The door opened right at 1500 and Martin walked in.

“Have a seat, Colonel Martin,” General Davies gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “Coffee?”

“No thank you, General,” Martin said as he sat and made himself comfortable.

A quick nod from the General to his secretary was followed by a secure click of the office door closing. Davies lowered himself slowly into the large, well-worn leather chair facing Martin.

“So Kyle, it’s been a few years, hasn’t it?” Davies said as both men settled in.

“Yes sir, I believe it was right after Hyderabad.” A slight wincing was detected in the Colonel’s body language, but his voice remained firm. “I believe you were relieving me of command at the time.”

“Look Kyle, that was six years ago and I didn’t agree with it then. The President was adamant that you be relieved of command. Congress wanted you court-martialed, thrown in a cell and left to rot. It was only the direct intervention of Admiral Rider that you avoided being put before an inquest.” Davies leaned back and took a deep breath. “The Medal of Honor should have been yours, and everyone who knows of the situation thinks so. What you did was absolutely the correct course of action… as the rest of the world will eventually find out. But I didn’t call you here to hash over old times.”

A long awkward pause filled the room with a sharp silence.

“Why did you call me here?” inquired Martin.

Again a long silence. It was useless to try to make him uncomfortable by waiting, though, so Davies just pushed forward.

“Kyle, how familiar are you with NASA?”

“My sister was a flight specialist until the Endeavor was lost. I guess you could say that fifteen years of having an astronaut in the family makes me pretty familiar with the agency.”

“That’s what I thought,” Davies continued. “Do you know what happened Kyle? What really happened?”

Martin’s eye twitched and he stiffened as if weighing his response.

“I have made a few inquiries with some friends… and… I know that the official story is part of a cover-up.”

“Yes, yes, I assumed you would have figured that out. Well, time to show you this.” Davies pulled out a folder from his desk drawer and placed it on the desk.

“Sir, that folder is marked SC-07, I don’t have that clearance.”

“You do now Colonel Martin, you need to take that with you and study it.”

“This has to do with Cindy’s death?”

“No, this is your next assignment. I will tell you what happened to your sister. The Shuttle Endeavor did not crash on the moon. The Shuttle Endeavor was destroyed in orbit around Mars.”

Martin was clearly stunned. His mouth moved several times and he had to swallow before speaking. “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t see how that’s possible. I had dinner with Cindy three days before the accident. The shuttle couldn’t have been at Mars. We don’t have that capability.”

Davies’ smile was strained as if he were trying to hold back laughter. “That’s what I thought, Kyle. But I found out last week that we indeed do have that capability. In fact, we can reach Mars in less than six hours in the best case, and less than forty hours even with Mars at the furthest possible position.”

“I’m sorry sir, but did I hear you correctly? We have the capability to travel to Mars in a few hours?”

“Yes. I don’t know the technical mumbo jumbo, but essentially the shuttle goes to a location where they hook it onto a separate… well basically just an engine with an engineering crew, and that engine has the power to take it to Mars in a matter of hours.  They had brought the engine, the torpedo they call it, back to Earth orbit to keep working with it when they stopped getting signals from the shuttle. They thought it was a communication failure, but when the torpedo returned the next day to bring the shuttle home, they found that the shuttle had been destroyed.”

Martin sat staring at a point on the wall. Davies had seen him like this before. It was during the final hours before the assault on Hyderabad and Martin had made up his mind to use the pholux rockets to destroy the city. It was a decision he couldn’t turn back on once it had been made. It was also a decision that changed the course of the war and his personal career.

“Sir, what is my mission?” Martin softly asked.

“I’m sure you know that there is even more than you can imagine Kyle, and your briefing folder holds all the data. In short, the United States has made contact with an alien race and we need a competent escort detachment for our diplomat. You will need to pick your team, report to Kennedy and go through the NASA training.”

“An alien race?” Martin asked skeptically.

“Yes, this is a first contact situation which is why it is at the top level of security. It’s all detailed in your package,” Davies said, patting the folder.

“Do you anticipate trouble?”

“Am I a Marine?”

They both laughed for a few seconds before falling back into the professionalism that the severity of the situation required.

“Kyle, you need to make sure your team can handle any situation. No specialty without redundancy and no one looking to make a name for themselves. Linguistics are a plus, as are any diplo skills.”

Davies leaned back and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds before locking eyes on Martin and leaning in as far as he could across the table.

“Because of the danger involved, no one under 25, no one married, no one with minor children. That is from the top.”

Martin broke eye contact for just a split second. Davies knew that his daughter, Sara, had just turned 18 the month before.

“I need Ramirez,” Martin stated as if asking for a cup of coffee.

“No. Out of the question.”

“Then you can find a new CO.” Martin started to stand.

“Fine.” Davies sighed leaning back “I’ll have to pull some strings and lean a little, but you’ll have him.”

Both men sat in their chairs and looked at each other with a feigned casualness.

“If you want Ramirez, you can have him. But it’s a risk and you know it.” Davies was irritated by this demand, but also had expected it. He knew he was going to spend the rest of his political capital. He figured he might even end up owing quite a bit to some people he didn’t like owing things too.

“Fine, it’s a risk. We’re Marines and Alex is the finest Marine I have ever seen.”

“Ok, well, I think that’s all for now. You have some reading to do and some decisions to make. You need to be at Kennedy in three weeks, so you better get started.”

“Thank you for this opportunity, General. It was good to see you again,” Martin said as he stood and started to leave. “And thanks for telling me the truth about Cindy.”

Davies waited until Martin had walked down the hall and through the double doors before calling his Secretary in.

“Donna, clear my schedule today and call my wife and let her know I’m coming home now. Make sure she has a drink ready for me when I get there.”

He knew change was coming, and he may have just unleashed the harbinger of doom or an angel of deliverance upon mankind. Kyle Martin might destroy all humankind or lead them to a greater age, but it was unlikely that he would have no impact on history. And it was General Willard Davies who showed him the path.

Chapter 2

04 April 2042

Kyle stretched and yawned. A quick glance at the clock told him it was 2230 and he had hours left to go.

The first few days of his new command were skimming through three disc’s worth of reports. Most of them were technical specifications and radical physical theories that he barely was able to comprehend. A few, like the first radio encounters with the Hedali, as the aliens introduced themselves, would have been exciting, but they were written by engineers and bureaucrats.

After he finished stuffing his brain with new information, he had set about going through the two discs full of biographical data of the Marines eligible for the security clearance that was required for this assignment.

So far he had chosen five Marines that had seen action in India and three that had joined in the six years since the war. He was down to three slots left, and was having a hard time finding the right Marines.

Another yawn followed by a failed attempt to coax more coffee from his empty mug resigned him to getting up and walking to the kitchen for a refill. As he poured more lukewarm bean leavings, the phone rang.

“Martin. Go,” he answered in his practiced voice of authority.

“Collect call from U.S.D.B. for Colonel Kyle Martin. The caller is Alexander Ramirez. Will you accept the charges?”

“Yes.”

“Colonel Martin, this is Ramirez, I understand you wanted to contact me?” Alex asked as smoothly as he could. But there was something beneath it. Maybe anger, maybe irritation.

“Hi Alex, I need you for an assignment,” Kyle casually responded.

The laughter on the other end was loud but short lived.

“Brother, do you know where I am?”

“Cell 109, United States Disciplinary Barracks, Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. Currently you are speaking from the Commandant’s office as was requested by the Pentagon.”

“You’re crazy, there is no way they are going to let me out. You know that.”

“You will be released tomorrow at 0700 with a security detachment which will escort you to the old Whiteman field. There you will be picked up by a small aircraft and be flown to Kennedy.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. That is, unless you want to finish your sentence. I understand with good behavior they might let you out in another eighteen years or so, isn’t it?”

“Twenty two with good behavior. Which you know isn’t going to happen, so I’ll probably serve all fifty. What is this about Kyle, why me?”

“Put Colonel Wilkins on the phone Alex.”

“This is Colonel Wilkins, how may I help you Colonel Martin?”

“Good evening Walt, I know this is against standard protocol, but I need you and your team to leave Ramirez alone in your office. Is your office soundproof?”

“Uh… no it isn’t Kyle. May I ask why this breach in security is needed?”

“I am about to communicate some classified information to Ramirez and I’m afraid you don’t have the clearance needed to be in the same room. May I request that you vacate your Secretary’s office as well to provide even more security for our conversation?”

“I am familiar with his record, and I don’t believe he has higher clearance than I do, Colonel. Has this changed?”

“It’s about to. When I give him the information, he will be at SC-07.”

There was a short pause. Kyle knew Wilkins’ unflappable reputation, but he also knew how unusual this would seem to him

“Ok, we will clear out. Have a good evening Colonel.”

“Thank you Colonel.”

Kyle exhaled a big breath, that was his last task to get Alex on his team; apart from Alex agreeing to the terms.

“Kyle, what did you say to them? Commandant Wilkins just literally pushed his team out of his office and they are now leaving the area. This never happens.”

“Alex, are you in?”

“I don’t know, I mean, how big is this?”

“It’s big Alex, and there are some rules that you are going to have to live by.”

“What rules?”

“Your court-martial ruling still stands and while you will be reinstated as an E-7, that’s as high as you go for the rest of your career. You are still never to enter the District of Columbia again. You are still prohibited from being within one mile of Senator Hovey or any member of his staff or family again. You will be free after this mission, but only if you agree right now to be part of my team.”

“If you want me bad enough to pull off this kind of deal, I guess you really need me. I’m in.”

“Good. You are now cleared for SC-07…”

“Whoa, wait a minute! I grew up in the Marines, my father was a three star by the time I joined up, and I was on six Delta operations before India. I have never even heard of that clearance.”

“Neither had I until eleven days ago. But you are sealed to it now. Can I go on?”

“Yes, sorry, that just threw me for a loop. Continue please.”

“Ok, you will be my team leader on this mission. It’s a diplo escort mission, but I need the best of the best.”

“A freaking diplo escort? Man, this is insulting. You could grab a couple of Academy rats to do this run.”

“No, the Academy rats don’t have the clearance, skills or experience I need on this one. It’s more than just an escort run, Alex.” Kyle took a deep breath and let the sentence force its way out. “We are meeting an alien race to sign a treaty.”

“What… Are you kidding me?”

“No, we need to go to Kennedy, get the training needed, and rendezvous with the alien ship in less than five weeks.”

“Where are we meeting them?”

“In orbit around Jupiter.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Then puke and get over it. Colonel Wilkins will process you out tonight. Your escort will be at the gate at 0700.”

Kyle hung up the phone and immediately felt lighter. The worry and burden he had been feeling was greater than he realized, but it was over now.

With Ramirez on board, he had much less to worry about, but in some ways a little more to worry about. Alex wasn’t a loose cannon, but he was impulsive. That instinct, and the complete trust of that instinct, made him one of the most efficient warriors Kyle had ever known.

Twice in India he was captured and twice showed up at his Command before a rescue operation could be launched. He personally led over 200 infantry assaults over the six-year long war, won two silver stars, five bronze stars and was considered for a Congressional Medal of Honor before his… incident. And he never received a purple heart; never so much as had to be patched up by a medic. His ability to avoid injury while finding the heart of the danger was unreal.

Kyle rubbed his left thigh as he thought about it. It no longer ached, but every morning when he took his shower, the puckered scar showed where he had taken the shrapnel from the mortar strike. He was lucky; a table had landed on him. His Aide-de-camp, the other two officers he was conferring with, and their communications tech were not so lucky and were dead by the time the medics got there.

When he looked up from the dust and smoke, he had seen Alex crawling out from under the filing cabinet that had fallen over him shielding him from the blast. Alex was on his feet by the time the first rescuer had run to the tent, and was shouting for medics for the wounded and a helo to take out “the curry eating bastards” that got a mortar that close to their base.

It was then that Kyle became a superstitious man. Ramirez would be on his team in any operation he ran from that point forward.

He settled back down in his chair and picked up the phone again.

“This is Diane, may I help you.”

“Major Kitch, this is Colonel Martin. Sorry it’s so late, but your pick up at 0845 tomorrow morning has been confirmed. I’ll be down at Kennedy in three days; the rest of the team should be there by then.”

“Ok, Colonel. Is there anyone else who needs a ride while I’m out and about?”

“No, that should do it, Major. Just give him his folder and let him get adjusted to being out.”

“Will do, but how “out” is he going to feel stuck inside a plane for six hours?”

Kyle laughed at her keen observation. “True, make sure the guys at Kennedy let him have his run of the facilities. He will perk up a bit after being able to just walk where he can’t see a fence, I’m sure. Oh, and Diane, make sure you have a six pack of Dr Pepper chilled for him.”

“Have a mini-cooler with DP and ice ready to go to the car.”

“Great, see you in three days.”

Kyle hung up the phone and dropped down into his chair. He looked over his checklist and the notes by each Marine’s name.

Alex would be his team leader, in charge of security and logistics.

Kiskaliski was a given. No one could handle a weapon like K-man. At least no one Kyle had ever seen or heard about. Three Lauchheimer trophies by the time he was 21 was unreal. When he had been selected for his first Omega team, Kyle had personally ordered him to forgo any future attempts at the award in order to prevent anyone from looking too close at his service record.

Anderson and Boone were both career State Department men who had signed up for the Marines at the start of the Indian war. They had vast linguistic and diplomatic skills and he knew how they handled themselves under fire.

Kitch was his go-to girl as one of his pilots. Her sixty-eight confirmed tank kills in the opening days of the war had landed her on the cover of Time magazine in front of her A-10d. After that, she continued to have the storybook career. The Distinguished Flying Cross had earned her an attaché position under Admiral Rider while he was in charge of the Joint Chiefs. Kyle met her right after Hyderabad and was impressed by her intelligence and ability to handle stress. He had never seen anyone better at handling an emergency.

Sergeant Major Carl Williams was just amazing. In addition to being a genius with anything mechanical, he had a PhD in philosophy from Harvard, spoke six languages, and was the son of a Marine General. He was also involved in eighteen firefights in Delhi and Mumbai and had earned two bronze stars, a silver star and the Navy Cross, so he could hold his own under fire.

Williams had highly recommended Corporal Terry Ranke for the mission after learning the details. Ranke had dropped out of MIT after two years because he didn’t feel challenged. He joined the Marines at the age of twenty four after several years of boredom in the private sector servicing Cray’s as a freelancer. Kyle added another mechanic that Williams had worked with during the war, Sergeant Ben Hollis.

So, he needed another pilot, another security member, and another mechanic to fill out his roster. He looked over his spreadsheet again. Sixteen pilots to review, forty-five Marines that had great combat experience for security, and nine engineers recommended by Williams and some contacts at NASA.

Kyle took another drink of coffee and pulled up another comparison chart.

Chapter 3

08 April 2042

Kyle stepped out of his car and stood looking at the huge machine rumble along just a few hundred yards from where he stood. Over twenty feet tall and weighing close to 3,000 tons, these machines dwarfed even the mobile artillery pieces that he was so familiar with.

He shook his head in amazement. If the shuttle movers were this impressive to him now, what had people thought of them sixty years ago when they were first used?

Kyle looked towards the shuttle hangers and saw four movers coming to the launch area and three heading back to the hangers. Tomorrow would be a busy day at the center; four launches in twelve hours.

He pulled his duffel out of the back seat and crossed the parking lot to his new home for a few weeks.

An airman at the desk welcomed him with a smile and voice that reflected the sunny, bright Florida day.

“Welcome Colonel, what’s your assignment code?”

“CO of Tango 37 group.”

“Your team is in the East Building, sir, just past the pool. We have assigned the entire second floor for you, and that includes a secure briefing room. I will call General Thibodeaux and let him know you have arrived. Here is your passkey and your room is 204.”

“Thank you, Airman,” Kyle said as he took the guest brochure and passkey that the airman offered. He pulled his duffel back up to his shoulder and strode off to check out his quarters.

Several people were lying out at the pool, and a blonde woman was swimming laps. A quick scan told Kyle that none of his team was out there. Out of the corner of his eye he caught some motion and was able to see a curtain at a second floor window quickly come to a rest.

A slight smile crossed his lips. He was so proud of his team; they weren’t going to be taken by surprise.

As he entered the stairwell, he heard movement up and down the hallway. Major Diane Kitch greeted him at the top of the stairs.

“Good Afternoon Colonel, I hope your trip went well.”

“Thanks Major, it went fine. I always enjoy the drive down.” Kyle started walking down the hallway. “The whole team here?”

“Dolsen should be getting here this evening, she hit a connection issue in Chicago, but everyone else is here,” said Diane as she kept pace with him.

“Great, let me throw my gear in my room and I’ll meet you in the briefing room. Which one is mine?”

“Next door on the right, sir. The briefing room is two down from there.”

Kyle used the passkey to open the door and look in. Bed, two chairs, a table, a sliding glass door that he knew opened onto a small balcony. Closet and bathroom doors. TV and dataports.

The room had a distinctly un-military feel to it; like looking at a cheap, but nice, motel room.

Kyle dropped his bags on the bed and went back into the hallway.

“Everything ok, sir?”

“Yeah, seems fine. How is the food here?”

“The terminal has a decent snack bar if you want some junk, but stay away from the officers club. I don’t know what they think is acceptable “steak”, but that’s not it. Four pizza joints deliver and two Chinese places. Since we are restricted to camp, don’t know any local restaurants. Oh, and of course there’s a couple of fast food places.”

Kyle smiled and grunted. She knew he hated fast food.

Diane turned and opened the door to the briefing room. Inside were the other 10 people he had been expecting. A few doughnuts had survived the wait, and the smell of decent coffee wafted through the room.

“Good afternoon everyone, I trust your trips down here were good.”

A chorus of greetings and “Yes sirs” met him as he strode to the front. He took out the data chip from his front shirt pocket and touched the dataport on the wall. A second later, a small beep told him all the data was downloaded. He walked to the front as he began to speak.

“As you all know, this is a mission that is unique in the history of the Corps and in fact in the history of mankind. We are a diplo escort to the most important meeting that we will ever have. Now I know that a diplo escort is not what you would expect to be a big mission, but this one is. We have no idea how the members of the other party will react to us. When I was gathering this team, I had to take many things into account. I needed people who were experts in linguistics. I needed people who were experts in engineering and had heavy science backgrounds. I needed both men and women. I needed people I could trust to behave as told with no hesitation, but who could adapt to changing situations quickly. I needed people I could trust. And above all I needed the best Marines I could find.”

Kyle took a deep breath.

“And I needed to do it with the restrictions that were placed upon me. You all have a security clearance of SC-07. This means that you not only meet every qualification for every security clearance you have ever even thought existed, you also are all single, have no minor children, and over 25. These are very important details as we are quite possibly on a suicide mission. If we don’t make it back, the Pentagon decided that they would rather be in a situation where they don’t have to lie to spouses, young children or parents about what happened. Grown children, siblings and elderly parents, of course they can lie to with no guilt.”

Kyle smiled as he listened to the sardonic chuckles from everyone there.

“So let’s go over what we are going to do while we are here. First, we are going to learn what to do so we don’t mess up the interior of the Shuttle with our vomit. Second, we are going to break up into a couple of teams. Major Kitch, Captain Jennings and I will learn how to fly the shuttle and how to operate the various systems. Sergeant Major Williams, Sergeant Hollis, Sergeant Dolsen and Corporal Ranke will be given a complete run through of the electrical and mechanical workings of the shuttle. Gunnery Sergeant Ramirez, Sergeant Kiskaliski, and Sergeant Greene will be given training in zero G combat. Major Anderson and Captain Boone will be briefed by our Ambassador on protocol and etiquette for this run. They will in turn brief us as to what is and is not appropriate to say, do, eat and look at while on our host’s ship.” Kyle walked to the front of the table looking over his selection of Marines. “Now that we have that taken care of, are there any questions?”

“Sir,” said Sergeant Hollis. “I’ve read all my background, but there is no description of what the Hedali look like.”

A knock at the door interrupted Kyle before he could answer. A second later, two men entered and shut the door behind them.

“Colonel Martin, I hope I’m not interrupting at a bad time.” The tall thin man was wearing an Air Force uniform and had a friendly smile on his face. He also wore 3 stars on his shoulder marking him as Lieutenant General Thibodeaux.

“Of course not, General. Please have a seat. And you must be Ambassador Thomas,” Kyle said to the shorter, middle aged man who seemed so out of place.

Ambassador Jim Thomas was dressed in a polo style shirt with casual slacks and tennis shoes. His short beard and slight pudge of a stomach stood out in sharp contrast to the physically fit and clean shaven look of all the other men in the room.

“Thank you Colonel Martin. I look forward to working with you.”

Kyle waited as the men sat, and then looked back over to Hollis. “The question, I believe, was what do the Hedali look like? The answer is, we don’t know. Mister Ambassador, would you like to fill us in on any new information?”

“Absolutely Colonel. As you are aware, we have been in contact with the Hedali for the last six months. For months the communication was slow and laborious due to the language barrier. We were finally able to figure out some of the structure and etymology of several of their key words and started working toward communicating more questions.”

“Up until that point, they were essentially just giving us basic information on their technology and the ability of their ships. I personally think we stunned them a bit as we learned their language quicker than they learned ours.”

“It was at that point that they asked if we would be interested in joining them in a, well, partnership is the closest understanding of it. Think of it like a galactic Big Brother program. They teach us about the galaxy and help us discover some of their technology for ourselves.”

“For the last month or so, we have been able to get a little more information from them that will help this mission in particular. The Hedali are bipedal, between 5’6’ to 6’0” tall in general. They have two sexes, male and female as close as we can tell. Their ships atmosphere would normally be a bit light in oxygen content, so we will be taking oxygen masks to wear, but they seem to indicate that they can boost it enough to allow us to breathe easy without causing any problems for themselves.”

“It will be hot though. They have indicated that if they lower the temperature in the areas where we will be during the treaty signing to a comfortable level for us, it will be rather chilly for them. They have agreed to 112º Fahrenheit to allow us both to be uncomfortable without either being too uncomfortable.”

Several of the Marines sat back in surprise and a couple even whistled low at this news.

“Excuse me Mister Ambassador.”

“Yes, Sergeant…?”

“Sergeant Major Williams. At what temperature do they normally keep their ship?”

“They indicated that their optimum temperature is around 180º Fahrenheit.”

“Will we have enough cool packs to protect us if something happens?” Sergeant Greene asked with a little panic in his voice.

“We will deal with equipment concerns later,” Kyle quickly interjected. “Please continue Mister Ambassador.”

“Thank you Colonel. We will stay on board the Shuttle until an hour or so before the signing. There will be three NASA personnel, you thirteen Marines, and my team which includes myself, my aide Amanda Stuart, and a documentarian from the Smithsonian, Drew Carter. Major Anderson and Captain Boone will be part of my team in civilian dress. My team will be given a brief tour of the facilities and we have asked that two of the uniformed Marines be along. They seemed to think that was appropriate as an honor guard.”

“If I may ask, then sir,” Williams said with his firm no-nonsense style. “Are the rest of us just supposed to rest on our tailbones for an hour while this is going on?”

Ambassador Thomas smiled a bit and tilted his head in a reassuring way. Kyle could see how this man got the job; his command of body language and his ability to express his emotions non-verbally was impressive. He just hoped the Hedali thought so as well.

“Ideally, Sergeant Major, that is exactly what will happen.” The Ambassador stood up and walked over to Kyle. “I know that you are all highly skilled and highly prized Marines in your specific fields. I also know that you are all very good at the skills that every Marine must have, that is, combat. We don’t anticipate any problems, and I pray to God that we don’t run into any. But if there is a problem, the Pentagon wanted the absolute best of the best to be there. Because, quite honestly, if you can’t handle the situation, it will tell us a lot about what we are getting ourselves into.”

An eerie silence filled the room.

Ramirez finally spoke up. “Mister Ambassador, what I guess you are saying is that this will either be a cake walk or a suicide mission. Is that correct?”

“No, I don’t think that’s a fair assessment. I think it will be either a cake walk or suicide mission, or something in between. I have faith that you are the best of the best. And while the idea of facing danger on an alien ship orbiting Jupiter may not be something you could see surviving, I have to say that if anyone can, it will be the men sitting in this room.”

Kyle looked at each Marine sitting there. He saw steely resolve and that glimmer in the eye that all professional warriors get when they are ordered into the heat of action.

“Thank you Ambassador Thomas, I think that will wrap up this meeting. We will, I’m sure, have more questions in the next few weeks, so why don’t we set up meetings daily at 1500?”

“That sounds good Colonel. Gentlemen, thank you for your time,” said General Thibodeaux.

The General and the Ambassador left the briefing room as the Marines sat staring at their hands, the table or a point on the wall.

“We’re boned,” said Williams. He was always the master of the understatement.

12 May 2042

The first two weeks of training went quickly. The Marines were divided up into teams of five or six to experience “The Vomit Comet”, as the Sub-orbital Training Transport was commonly known.  There were no real bad experiences on the STT, but one Marine did get a little sick on their first trip up.

NASA requires any mission specialist to have 30 hours on the STT before launch, so for 8 hours a day, there were Marines on the edge of space. In two weeks, they were all space ready by NASA’s standards, and--more importantly--in their own minds.

The team of Ramirez, Kiskaliski and Greene spent the rest of their time in a modified STT practicing zero-g maneuvers and combat. They were always smiling and ready for tales of their adventures any given day. They were Marines doing what Marines do best; getting prepared for combat in any environment.

The engineering team spent days pouring over manuals and blueprints before getting to see the Shuttle up close and personal. The engineers at NASA were impressed by how quickly the Marines picked up on some of the more subtle aspects of this most quirky of vehicles. By the end of training, the Marines were able to do all checks and repairs without asking for help from the engineers.

The pilots took to the Shuttle controls like a bird takes to the air; that is to say a lot of aborted launches and quite a few hard landings. But just like those baby birds, they started getting the hang of it. Kyle and Kitch had more experience with a wider variety of aircraft, but Captain Jennings had the majority of his experience in transports. It was decided after three days that Jennings would be the first choice in an emergency with Kitch and then Martin as his back-ups.

The diplomatic team had some problems, however.

“It’s not political correctness, Colonel.” Ambassador Thomas was clearly frustrated by the accusation “I just think it’s a better way for the Hidali to recognize some of our social structure.”

“I fail to see how having both of my female Marines as your escorts will accomplish that objective.”

“As I’ve said, Colonel, with myself, Miss Stuart, Major Anderson, Captain Boone and the documentarian, we are four men and one woman. With both Major Kitch and Sergeant Dolsen as the escorts, it would balance it to four men and three women.”

“Yes, but neither of them are on this mission to provide combat support.”

“They are Marines. Every Marine a rifleman, right?”

Kyle took a deep breath. He liked Ambassador Thomas, but at this moment he was very unhappy with the skills that the man brought to the table. He felt a trap and was trying to come up with a way out of it.

He suddenly saw the opening.

“Mister Ambassador, you want Anderson and Boone in civvies, right?  If the only personnel in military uniform sent to escort you are both women, would that not convey the idea that our military was made up of only one sex?”

Ambassador Thomas sat back slowly and stared at Colonel Martin.

“Colonel, I have always had a great deal of respect for you, but I now have more respect and a bit of trepidation. That was a very good counter to my argument and one that I have to admit puts my position at a disadvantage.”

The men let a silence fill the room that held pure expectation. Ambassador Thomas finally broke the spell.

“I want Sergeant Dolsen and Sergeant Greene.”

“May I ask why?”

“May I ask why not?”

“Because I need Dolsen in case there is a problem with the shuttle.”

“So Kitch then.”

“Ok, Kitch, but I want you to take Ramirez.”

“Your lucky charm?  I thought you would want him with the rest of the team.”

Kyle smiled. “So you know about that. I admit, I have him on the mission because he is… lucky, in a manner of speaking. But he is also the best of the best and you may need him with you.”

“I think we have a deal, Colonel. I need to pull Kitch and Ramirez into our meetings starting tomorrow for a more detailed look at their assignment.”

Kyle nodded as the Ambassador gathered his folder from the desk, smiled and left the briefing room. After he had gone, Kyle looked over at the wall and the large ‘3’ that dominated one of the white boards.

Three days until launch.

Chapter 4

15 May 2042

The low murmur slowly faded to almost quiet as Kyle walked through the door. The rest of the Marines, the Ambassador and the rest of his team were there and the NASA personnel were following close behind him.

Kyle nodded and the Marines went back to their idle chatter.

“Colonel, looks like all personnel are here,” Lieutenant Colonel Howard “Cowboy” Jackson said as he looked over the room.

“Is everyone suited up?” Cowboy asked in his booming voice.

Greeted with a round of “Yes sirs”, he nodded and went over to the walkway hatch.

“Good. Now we need to board and be ready for takeoff in ten minutes. I’ll check you on and make sure we are secure. Any questions? Let’s board ladies and gentlemen,” Cowboy said as he motioned to the walkway.

Eight minutes later they were all secure in their seats and Cowboy was securing himself into the pilot’s seat.

“Kennedy, this is STS Fletcher, all personnel are secure and the ship is ready for go. Over,” Cowboy said to the control tower.

“Fletcher, all is secure. Begin prelaunch.”

Kyle took a deep breath and tried to keep focus. All of his time in fighter jets, all of his time on the STT, had still not prepared him for space travel. He couldn’t help but think of Cindy and what she had told him of her first space flight. He had been excited to hear about it, but that was based on the fact that he knew he would never have to chance to go.

Now he was nervous and a little overwhelmed by the feeling of riding what was essentially a giant roman candle out of the safety of the atmosphere.

He was thinking about Cindy a lot today. It had been almost a year since the Endeavour was lost. For fifteen years Cindy had been the Martin that everyone in the family looked up to. Bill was an investment banker, and Kyle was a Marine, but Cindy was an astronaut!

She had such a sense of normalcy about her job, but she worked in the last frontier. That’s how Kyle saw his sister; a pioneer, striving to understand and tame a new environment. And now she was gone and it was his turn to make history in this dark and foreboding arena.

He took a deep breath and focused back on the discussion going on between Cowboy and the tower.

“Life-hib system check a-ok, looks like we are go for launch Kennedy.”

“Roger Fletcher, countdown commencing. Launch in nine minutes.”

Kyle looked around, as best as he could, and saw Jennings doing the same. The two Marines were with Cowboy and Major Nestor, his co-pilot, in the cockpit. The rest of the mission’s crew were in the passenger compartments below.

Cindy always told him that it was a thrill to be in the cockpit because you could watch space coming right at you. The engines kicked in and he felt, more than heard, the rumble of the boosters as they lit up. He sat back and recited the itinerary from launch to contact again.

“T-minus thirty seconds.”

Broken from his thoughts, Kyle instinctively checked his buckles to make sure they were firm. He felt the hum of the main engines whine to full speed.

“T-minus ten seconds.”

“Crew of the Fletcher, we are past the terminal launch point. God speed to us all,” Cowboy said over the intercom system.

Kyle found himself mouthing the countdown, just as all kids have since the 1960’s and space launches were shown on television.

“Liftoff Fletcher, Good luck gentlemen.”

The final phrase was almost completely lost in the roar of the engines as Cowboy released the clamps and started the ascent.

Kyle was shocked at how fast it really was. He had spent several years as a Marine fighter pilot and knew how to handle a Mach three bird, but he never expected a big, clumsy block of metal like this to feel so fast.

Within seconds he could see the atmosphere thinning and the stars starting to make an appearance. The Shuttle jerked as the boosters fell away and there was a slight deceleration.  The weight of the main tank slowed the Shuttle for a moment before enough fuel was burned off to continue their assault against gravity.

A few seconds later and the atmosphere peeled back like a veil  Before those in the cockpit was a bright, almost too bright, sky. Kyle couldn’t believe how bright it was, and just as suddenly, it went black. He realized that they had just passed from the sunlit portion of the earth orbit into the nighttime section.

“Houston, this is Fletcher, we have achieved orbital position. Over.”

“Proceed as scheduled Fletcher. Houston out.”

Cowboy reached up and flipped a switch.

“Crew and specialists onboard the Fletcher, we have achieved orbit. For the newbies among us, welcome to space. We will be in position to dock with the Space Station Galaxy in four hours, until then, sit back and relax. Each station has a video console. We are pleased to bring you fifty movies on demand. Unfortunately our space stewardesses are not with us this evening, so no peanuts or drink service. For those who thought ahead, pull out your lunch and have a snack before docking.”

Immediately the chatter started up and Kyle exhaled slowly. He was in space. Outer Space. The thought was just unreal to him. In four hours he would be on the Space Station Galaxy and the crew of the Torpedo would be getting in position for the next phase.

The Chinese and Russians apparently thought that the Torpedo was just a maneuvering engine to pull the Shuttle into the station for storage or repairs. Once the Shuttle is pulled into a position where they are sure no foreign satellite can see, it launches the Shuttle a short hop to the far side of the moon. From there, the Torpedo launches to the destination designated for that particular mission.

Around ten hours from now, that destination would be Jupiter. Eleven days after that, the crew of the Fletcher would be the first humans to lay eyes on a bona fide alien.

26 May 2042

“Houston, this is Fletcher. We have assumed target location and are awaiting contact, over.”

At this distance from earth, the radio transmission would be delayed by thirty five minutes or so. By the time Houston received Cowboy’s transmission it was hoped that contact with the Hedali would have occurred.

Everyone in the cockpit was anxiously looking out in every direction for anything that might look like a spacecraft. Jupiter itself dominated over half of the field of vision and the moon Io was clearly seen as well. Kyle just stared in wonder at what he was seeing.

“Look Cap, over there.” Major Nestor was pointing out the window. By the time Kyle saw what he was looking for, it was apparent. A small metallic ship came towards them at high speed. It was sleek and angular looking, but without looking like it came off of a Hollywood set. It had no external lights that Kyle could see, and no large windows or points of entry. As it got closer, Kyle realized that it was at least ten times the size of the Shuttle. Size was very hard to determine in space he realized.

As the Shuttle approached the alien ship, it slowed and then came to a stop with a slight jostle.

“Whoa, we are moving, and fast,” said Cowboy.

“We must be caught in their tractor beam,” Nestor nervously laughed.

In just a few seconds it was realized that was exactly what had happened as the Fletcher was being pulled in a fast, but gentle, manner towards the alien craft.

Kyle realized that there was no chatter on the com, and he wanted to reassure his Marines, so he started narrating what was happening.

“Marines, we have visual contact with the alien craft. They have apparently started pulling us towards their craft. I can see a small hatch on the side of their hull. It looks a lot like the docking hatch on the Galaxy. Any questions?”

A lot of “No sirs” followed, some in hushed tones.

Cowboy unbelted himself and looked back at Kyle. “Colonel, let’s get ready. You first, and I’ll follow.”

Kyle released the multitude of latches holding him into the seat. He went down the ladder to the lower crew compartment.

“Marines, get geared up, we will be docking soon,” Kyle said as he moved through the secured crew to the hatch.

He could hear the rustle of movement and the metallic clinking of their harnesses being unbuckled as he stood at the hatch looking through the small window.

Suddenly the moment was on him. Through a small window in the hatch on the fast approaching alien vessel, Kyle saw a small face. It was peering back at him. This was, in fact, the first verified time that a human saw an intelligent alien life form.

“Colonel, are you ok?”

Kyle turned to see a tall man with sandy hair and a short goatee staring at the screen of a small hand camera. The lens was focused on Kyle’s face.

“Yes, Mister Carter. I’m ok. I just saw my first alien, that’s all.”

Carter smiled. “Good, because I was able to catch the moment on video.”

The enormity of this day, of this hour, was starting to creep up on all of them. For the first time Kyle was completely convinced that Carter was actually needed on this mission. This event should be recorded for future generations of humanity.

“Mister Carter, you will be the third human to step onto an alien vessel. Are you ready for that?”

“Yeah, I’m ready, but man, I can’t believe how scared I am at the same time.”

Me too, thought Kyle as he slapped the young man on the back and gave him a reassuring smile.

The sound of Marines strapping on gear and checking weapons faded to the background of Kyle’s mind as he looked back out the hatch window. His alien friend was gone, but the alien craft was only yards away. A few seconds later the ships touched and there was a click as the hatch locked into place.

Kyle was glad he was holding onto a handhold as gravity slammed him into the floor of the shuttle. Some mild cursing and grunts came from behind him.

“Ok Marines, I don’t think any of us were expecting that. Our Hedali friends have artificial gravity technology and when we hooked up, it apparently transferred to the Fletcher. Don’t just sit there, let’s keep getting ready.”

A quick look over his team didn’t indicate anyone having any serious problems, so Kyle went back to looking through the hatch window.

The green light on the control panel lit up indicating that the atmosphere on the other side of the inner door was stable and suitable for the humans on the Fletcher. Kyle reached over and picked up the intercom microphone.

“Marines, listen up.  Mister Ambassador, Mister Carter, crew of the Fletcher. We are now in the operational phase of this mission. The assigned personnel will enter the alien vessel where the signing of the treaty will take place. This portion of the mission should be completed in 145 minutes, that’s two hours and twenty five minutes for the officers.” Kyle replaced the microphone and turned back to his anxious, ready Marines.

“Ok Jarheads, let’s do this,” he said as he gave them reassuring smiles and nods.

Kyle reached over to the handle and opened the door. There was a slight pressure change right at the door, and suddenly a red light started flashing.

“Colonel please step away, Richards, check the seal,” Cowboy said, quickly taking command.

Kyle moved back quickly as the NASA Engineer dashed forward.

“We have a seal breach sir, but not bad. We can fix it, but it might take a while.”

The red light shut off as Richards applied some sort of adhesive from a tube over where he had quickly spotted the leak.

“Good job Richards, keep us updated on your progress.”

“Will do Commander” said Richards as he started sorting through an equipment bin. “Williams, I need you and Ranke to run a Phase II diagnostic on the internal hatch system. Hollis, I need you to assist me on the repatch, and Dolsen, get on the bot and give me an external look at our docking position.”

The Marines responded immediately to Lieutenant Richards orders.

“Cowboy, what the hell is going on up there? I almost crapped myself when that siren went off.” Lieutenant Donovan was livid. He and Lieutenant Morton were the “drivers” of the torpedo, which meant that they were the engineers who hit the button that launched the torpedo along its preplanned route. They were also two of only a handful of engineers who could even start to contemplate how to fix the Torpedo if things went wrong. While they could leave under their own power, and sometimes did for maintenance, they did not want two shuttles in one year to be lost on one of their missions.

“Everything is under control, Lieutenant. We had a small breach in a seal in the inner hatch.  We have the tools and manpower to get it fixed,” Cowboy said into his com unit.

“Ok, just remember, we can only take six more passengers in the Torpedo, so don’t screw up the Fletcher too bad.”

“That’s a Roger, we will make sure we are ready to go at the scheduled time. I’ll keep you updated every ten minutes,” Cowboy replied.

“Roger Commander, we will just keep the jump engine warm down here.”

Kyle looked at Cowboy and raised his eyebrows.

“Colonel, take your assigned team and let’s get this job done. I will keep you updated on our progress.” Cowboy gave him a quick nod and headed back to the cockpit.

Kyle looked back to the hatch and stepped towards it.

“Mister Carter, let’s go. Mister Ambassador, you and your team will follow. Marines, bring up the rear.”

Kyle stepped forward and opened the outer hatch. A slight hiss made him wince and the hot air of the alien vessel washing over him made him cringe. It smelled faintly of ammonia and he was hoping the Hedali had not mistaken the atmospheric needs of the human team.

Two more steps took him to another hatch, which was opening as he approached. On the other side was an Hedali. About five foot eight, maybe one hundred and forty pounds if he was a human. Bipedal, slightly squarish face, what looked to be scales on portions of his head. He stepped backwards three steps to the center of the room.

“Welcome friends.” The slightly quivering voice of the alien reminded Kyle of the old actor Jimmy Stewart.

“Thank you, friend. We bring peace,” Kyle responded as he stepped over the threshold of the hatch doorway. Ambassador Thomas was very precise on what he should say and when.

Kyle immediately stepped to the left as he entered, with Carter stepping to the right.  Miss Stuart entered behind him and moved to the left to stand by Kyle. He was confused by this, but realized that with Cowboy bowing out, Ambassador Thomas had changed the order. He coming in fourth must have meant something that Kyle didn’t quite understand.

Ambassador Thomas entered and took one step straight ahead to the Hedali who had opened the door and greeted them.

“Thank you, friend.  We are here to bring peace in your house,” Ambassador Thomas slowly said. Both he and their Hedali friend bowed deeply with arms held to the side.

The Hedali looked at all four of the humans and then stepped forward.

“Greetings to our house, may the peace you bring be added to what we have. I am Lon, an officer of this vessel, and I was chosen for this honor because I learned to speak your language quickly. Ambassador Thomas, I will be your translator for our meeting.”

Lon turned and motioned with his hand and a doorway opened. Kyle smirked a little when he noticed that Lon was palming a small silver device in his other hand. A little magic for the primitives, he thought.

Ambassador Thomas took the lead and followed Lon through the doorway; Carter was close behind filming as he looked around. Miss Stuart went next followed by Anderson, Boone, Kitch and Ramirez who quickly crossed through the docking area. Kyle turned as Kiskaliski, Jennings and Greene came into the small room.

A quick calculation told Kyle that he had his Marines in three groups of four and he was a little nervous dividing his forces like that.

His radio crackled to life.

“Colonel, Richards just told me that they need to seal the hatchway for about thirty minutes in order for the seal to be secure. Is that going to be ok for you?”

“Roger Commander, go ahead. The tour of the vessel just started, so we have some time. Over.”

The hatch on the Fletcher closed, and a slight hiss signaled that the seal had reestablished proper pressure.

K-man walked over to the doorway and looked down the hall.

“Just under twenty meters, sir. Two meters wide. Four points of cover.”

K-man was always the first looking to see how to defend his position. He sat back on his heels and cradled his rifle. Kyle shook his head. While the rest of the Marines had brought their sidearms, and Kitch. Greene and Ramirez had their M-31 rifles, K-man had brought his assigned sidearm, his grandfather’s 1911, his M-31, and his favorite weapon, a Barrett 407 .50 caliber rifle.

He hand loaded his rounds for his baby, as he called it. He had a true gift, and with that rifle it seemed almost like a magic gift.

Kyle had seen K-man drop fifty rounds from it in eighty-seven seconds. Since it only had a ten round magazine, that included four swaps. When he asked the Range Master what K-man’s score was after he left the area, he was informed that the young Marine had scored thirty-seven “10”s, nine “9”s, and three “8”s over five different lanes. It was generally agreed that the missing round had likely channeled through an earlier shot too quick for the laser to catch.

That had been ten years ago when Kyle had been placed as XO of Team Bravo, a loose collection of operational commands that included Delta and Omega. Then Private Zbigniew Kiskaliski became one of the top recruited individuals for many missions that then Major Kyle Martin had oversight duties for.

Alex might be my lucky charm, thought Kyle, but K-man is my block of C-4.

“Colonel, we have a problem I think. Dandelion.” Cowboy’s voice was stressed and tight.

Kyle froze as he heard the code word. He quickly switched his com unit to the private channel he and Cowboy had agreed to at the beginning of the mission. Placing the earpiece in his right ear, he brought his left hand up to cover his mouth and switched his com to private.

“What is it?”

“A second vessel has entered the area and there is…”

“Yeah, what?” Kyle was more shaken that Cowboy was so out of his normally controlled manner than anything else.

“The second ship was firing on the vessel that you are on right now. At least I think so. There was a blue… wave, that washed over a part of the ship you are on and it… dissolved.”

“What? Are you sure? We didn’t feel a thing.”

“Yeah, neither did we, but, Colonel…”

“Yeah?  What?”

“There was no explosion or ripping away of anything, the ship just… melted wherever the blue touched.”

Kyle was stunned. He knew that Cowboy wouldn’t be joking about something like this, but it seemed unreal.

“Crap! Colonel, the second ship has flown into the now open structure of the vessel we are docked to. I have ordered Richards to get that hatch repaired now. I think your vessel is being boarded Martin, get the Ambassador out of there!”

Kyle immediately turned his com back to the standard channel.

“Marines!” He shouted “Boarding action in process, get the Ambassador out of there.”

“Colonel, moving now,” came the calm voice of Ramirez at the same time that the Ambassador cut in.

“Colonel, what is going on?”

“Ambassador, we have confirmation of a vessel attacking and landing on the Hedali ship.”

“Ramirez, let me go, Colonel, this is too important--”

The Ambassadors complaint was cut off by several guttural screams and several loud sounds that were, for lack of a better term, alien to Kyle.

“We’re moving Colonel. We have intruders in our area. Kitch push forward.”

Kyle unholstered his sidearm and looked at K-man.

“We have hostiles incoming; none leave that corridor alive, Kiskaliski.”

“Understood Colonel.”

K-man brought his rifle to ready position while Greene went prone on the other side of the doorway.

“Jennings, keep an eye on that hatch door. As soon as Richards gives the green light, we are heading back onto the Fletcher. Donovan, are you on the line?”

“Yeah Colonel, we are hot down here. As soon as Cowboy gives me the go code, we will make the jump.”

“Colonel, we have three guests with us. Just letting you know. Twenty seconds out.”

“Roger Kitch. Cowboy, we need room for three more, will that be a problem?”

“No Colonel, we can accommodate.”

“Good. Ramirez, how is it?”

“Hot Colonel. I’m tailgating the party, but there is a lot of damage back here. It’s a mess. How far out Kitch?”

“Two rooms, you should hear us by now.”

K-man had his hand by his ear when Kyle looked over.

“We hear you. Marines!  Ready!”

At that moment, Kitch came around the corner of the corridor in a dead run. Sweat was pouring off of her face, but she looked in control. Stuart was being dragged along by Anderson. Boone was basically pushing a Hedali and Ambassador Thomas before him. Two more Hedali were running in front of Carter who was keeping pace while managing to keep filming behind him.

A low thumping enveloped the area four times in quick succession as Carter paused at the back end of the corridor. Kyle moved away from the entrance of the small room to allow Kitch and the others to take cover when he felt a blast of air.

“We’re open Colonel!” Jennings shouted.

“Everybody onto the Shuttle! Move!” Kyle ordered.

As the humans and their Hedali refugees moved past him, he heard the staccato of an automatic rifle. Kyle whipped back to see Ramirez tearing down the corridor. As his second foot hit the floor of the corridor, a shorter figure leaned around the corner pointing a black object at Ramirez. There were two thumps and two blue waves in rapid succession; the pulses they had felt earlier were the weapons of these aliens. Kyle’s heart leaped into his throat as he watched the waves hit Alex in the middle of his back.

“I’m hit!” Ramirez yelled as he threw himself into the small room.

Several of the unknown assailants starting charging down the corridor. One pointed at Martin standing in the doorway.

“Clear!” Kyle shouted as he dove to the floor.

K-man emptied his magazine in less than 2 seconds. The brass was starting to ring on the floor when Kyle came to a stop.

He looked up to see Greene and Ramirez going through the hatch to the Fletcher. Carter was quickly backing towards the hatch, filming the entire time.

Beside Kyle was a Hedali who had fallen as he entered the room. He grabbed him and pushed him towards the hatch while swinging around to make sure the room was clear.

“K-man, let’s go.”

K-Man stood and started towards the hatchway when Kyle saw another alien stick his head into the corridor and look down towards them.

As if by a sixth sense, K-Man pulled his .45, turned and fired all in one swift motion. The alien’s head exploded in a brownish splash.

Kyle heard what he took to be a gasp from the Hedali he was holding up as Kiskaliski ran by them and through the hatch.

Moving forward, Kyle pulled his new companion through the hatch, down the tunnel and into the Fletcher. He heard the hatch behind him seal shut, and heard Richards give the all clear.

“Go Donovan!” said Cowboy, and Kyle saw the Hedali ship swim quickly away from the hatch window.

Chapter 5

Kyle would have slumped against any wall available if he was able. The best he could accomplish was to float listlessly in the space around the hatchway. He still had his hand on the Hedali he had helped climb aboard and, realizing that might be insulting, motioned to one of the other Hedali to come over and help.

As the other Hedali, Kyle thought it might be Lon, came and escorted his shaken companion to another area of the crew compartment, Kyle glanced back through the window of the hatch. Jupiter had swung away from where he was looking, but he could make out the edge of it slowly getting smaller.

“Are you sure?  Nothing hurts?” Jennings was examining Alex’s back.

“No, I’m not hurt. I feel fine,” growled Ramirez.

It was obvious to Kyle that Alex must have been repeating himself. It was one of the few things to make Alex frustrated; answering the same question over and over.

“If he says he is fine, then he’s fine Jennings,” Kyle said as he floated over to where they were. “What happened, Alex? I saw you get hit.”

“I did get hit, sir. Clear as day, it felt hot and there was a little pressure to it. But I’m fine.” Ramirez was calming down a bit, but the adrenalin was still coursing through his veins.

“Ok Alex, but I want you to let me know if you so much as get a hang nail before we get home.”

“Yes sir.”

Kyle decided that he needed to take control again. He plugged his com unit into the shuttle’s intercom system.

“Let’s evaluate what has happened and what happens next. We were apparently ambushed by an enemy force, but we were able to extricate ourselves from it successfully. We were also able to save several of our Hedali friends in the process. What I need now is an accurate rundown of our situation. Donovan, is the torpedo ok?”

“Yes sir, we are functioning at 100%”

“Good. Cowboy, how is the Shuttle?” Kyle asked the shuttle Commander.

“Richards, status report.” Cowboy tossed the question to his chief engineer.

“Fletcher is fine, sir, we got the hatch sealed completely before we got under way.  Systems all look good, nothing out of the ordinary,” Richards reported.

“Good, thank you. Ambassador Thomas, what are we looking at diplomatically?” Kyle asked.

Ambassador Thomas looked up at Kyle stunned. He was clearly in shock at what had happened.

“Mister Ambassador, what’s the diplomatic situation?”

This seemed to finally bring the Ambassador around.

“I don’t know, Colonel. I think the first thing we need to do is see to the needs of the Hedali. Since we rescued their representative, and I have the treaty tablet in my hand, I think we can still seal this accord.”

Kyle looked at what appeared to be a tablet computer in the Ambassador’s hands. White and sleek looking, it was strangely familiar. Almost like the new Apple iDesk. That would explain a lot.

“Ok, Richards, see if you can find some thermal space suits for our guests. Cowboy, is there any way we can raise the temperature for them?”

“I think we can close off one of the lab rooms and open those heating vents to full. If we close off the vents in the other labs, we might be able to get it to 100º or so,” Cowboy replied.

“With the thermal suits, I think they will be ok. Chilly, but ok,” Richards added.

The three Hedali had been frantically talking together during this time. Finally one of them made his way over the crew gathered around Kyle.

“Colonel, Ambassador, may I speak?” the Hedali asked.

Ambassador Thomas took control. “Yes Lon, please. What is it you need to say?”

“We are rather cold on your vessel, did I hear you say that you were going to try and help us stay warm?”

“Yes, we will.”

“Good, we are fine for a few more hours, but the sooner we can get warm, the better it will be for us.”

“Of course, we will make every effort to be quick in meeting your needs.”

“Thank you.”

Lon paused for a second, just long enough that Kyle thought he sensed an uneasiness as to what he would say next.

“Our Ambassador, Firtulm, has a few… how would you explain? Elements of confusion regarding what happened back on our vessel. May I ask the Colonel and that Marine”, he pointed at K-Man, “a few questions.”

Ambassador Thomas cut his eyes to Kyle, and seeing him nod, quickly said “Of course, Lon, they would be happy to answer your questions.”

“Thank you.” Lon turned back to Firtulm, the Hedali that Kyle had dragged aboard the Fletcher, and spoke for a few seconds more.

K-man maneuvered over to where Kyle and Ambassador Thomas were and waited with them.

“Just answer the questions as simply and as honestly as you can. If you have any hesitancy, it might appear as if we are hiding something,” the Ambassador whispered.

“What if we need to hide something?” asked K-man in the same low whisper.

Kyle stared at him until he looked towards his feet.

“What did your mother teach you, Sergeant? If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all. The same here, if you can’t say the truth, then keep your mouth shut and let me talk. You suck at lying.”

To an outsider, it would have seemed humorous, but both Kyle and Kiskaliski knew that this was a direct order from Colonel to Sergeant.

Lon turned to face them.

“Colonel Martin, may I ask about the condition of the Marine who was shot?”

“He’s doing well, thank you for your concern.”

“I am not concerned Colonel Martin, I am frightened. He should not be well. He should not be.”

Kyle carefully considered what to say next.

“I don’t understand why that should scare you. Should you not be happy that he survived?”

“Yes and no. He was hit by a tilsoc, a very advanced weapon. It should have dissipated his form immediately. Instead, he is very much there. When Firtulm saw the enemy fire on your Marine, he felt great fear that a human would be lost at his meeting. But when he saw your Marine run by him, he felt great fear that this meeting would be the end of his career. The weapon he was hit with should have… no… it must have destroyed him. And yet it did not.”

Kyle could clearly sense the nervousness and fear in Lon.

“It will be fine, Lon, maybe Ramirez will feel some effects later; maybe he just caught a portion of it.”

Lon shut his eyes and bobbed up and down a little.

“No Colonel Martin, you don’t understand. If even a portion of the wave were to touch him or you or the ship, 192 kilograms of material would have been dissipated. That is simply the way the physics of the weapon works.”

Kyle was stunned. He suddenly felt very sympathetic for the Hedali, as they had witnessed the truly impossible in their mind. Kyle believed in miracles and Divine intervention. He had seen enough of them in combat; and he knew that to see something truly impossible was very upsetting, even if it ended with a good result.

“Ok Lon, let’s look into that later. What other questions do you have for us?”

Ambassador Thomas looked at Kyle with an exasperated expression. He didn’t like the abrupt change in the conversation apparently.

“Yes, Colonel Martin, we will discuss that later when more information is available. The next question I have is to this Marine of yours…  Kiskaliski?”

“You can call me K-man if that would be easier.”

“Thank you. What did you do to the Otina that were in the corridor?”

“I shot them.”

“With what?”

K-Man held his rifle out to Lon. The Hedali visibly shrank back from it.

“I apologize K-man, I cannot touch a weapon without proper training. What kind of weapon is it?”

“It’s heavily modified fifty caliber sniper rifle.”

“But what kind of weapon?”

K-man looked at Kyle with a puzzled look on his face.

“It’s a projectile weapon, Lon,” Ambassador Thomas offered. “Show him a bullet, Sergeant.”

K-man pulled a magazine from his belt and popped a round out with his thumb.

It floated slowly towards Lon as he stared at it in wonder.

“How is it propelled from the weapon?” he asked in a much quieter voice than before.

K-man took the round in his hand and held it up for Lon to see.

“An explosive charge is set in this brass case, the round itself is secured in front of the explosive. There is a pin that strikes the round inside the weapon. It detonates the explosive and forces the projectile down the barrel of the weapon.”

Lon stared at the round as K-man explained the process. He then turned back to the other Hedali and started speaking frantically. The other Hedali spoke in a brief, halting manner until it was obvious that Lon was describing the weapon that Kiskaliski had used.

They were quiet until he was done. The third Hedali spoke softly to Lon for a few minutes, and Lon then turned back to the humans.

“Did the Otina die instantly when you used your weapon?” he asked K-man.

“I don’t know. If they had been human, they would likely have died before they hit the ground. But I don’t know if their bodies are the same as ours.”

“How do you aim your weapon?”

“I have a digital scope showing where each round will strike when I pull the trigger.”

“The last one you killed, you used a different weapon. Why?”

“I was out of ammunition in my main weapon, so I used a weapon that was ready.”

“And how did you aim that weapon?”

“I didn’t. There wasn’t time. I pointed and fired.”

Lon just stared at him.

“I do not understand your humor, forgive me. I must ask again, how did you aim your second weapon?”

“I didn’t aim it. I am used to firing the weapon, so I pointed it at what I wished to hit, and I was accurate enough to hit my target.”

Lon turned and spoke to his fellow Hedali for just a few seconds before turning back to the humans.

“We are concerned with what you are telling us. This is rather odd to us. We had no idea that a projectile using a simple explosive could kill that effectively. We are also amazed that you can aim so precisely at such distance without aid of a computer. Yes, we are very concerned.”

Ambassador Thomas looked intently at Lon for a few seconds.

“Lon, we are not familiar with many of your technologies or understanding of science as well. We are looking forward to learning much from the Hedali. Perhaps the Hedali can learn from us as well?”

“Yes, that would appear to be the situation. I must admit, I never thought that we would be learning so much in such a short amount of time. You have impressed us. We look forward to seeing more of your abilities and technologies.”

Richards cleared his throat as he neared the small group. “Excuse me Colonel, we have the suits available for our guests now.”

“Thank you Richards. Lon, we have some suits that will hold your body heat in. We are also warming one of our labs for you now; we hope it will be warm enough for you.”

“Thank you, Colonel.”

“Do you need anything to eat or drink?”

“Maybe.  How long will this journey to your planet take.”

“Around ten days, or 240 hours.”

Lon turned back to his people and spoke briefly.

“Thank you Colonel. Yes, we will definitely need food and drink. Several times in fact.  Can we contact our people?”

“Of course, Lon,” Kyle said, flipping on his com unit. “Cowboy, can we get a relay ready for the Hedali when we hit another pocket?”

The field that the Torpedo created interfered with communications, but there were regular intervals that seemed to open during a run that allowed for short periods of communication.

“Sure thing, Colonel. We have a pocket coming up in twenty minutes. I’ll try to get the relay set up. We will have another one at 1435.”

“Great, thanks. Lon, we will be able to send a message to the Hedali in just over six hours. In the meantime, what kind of food and drink do you need?”

The next ten days went quickly for everyone on the Fletcher. Lab number two was able to reach and maintain 112ºF.  Combined with the space suits, the Hedali felt fairly comfortable.

The nutritional needs of the Hedali were not as big of an issue as Ambassador Thomas was initially afraid of. They were able to eat and drink most of the provisions onboard for the crew. Surprisingly, they had many of the same reactions as the humans; chocolate and coffee were well liked while the chicken a la king and scrambled eggs from the MRE packs were uniformly despised.

The level of mechanical engineering skill the humans possessed impressed the Hedali.  Richards and Williams spent time showing them some of the concepts of mechanical motion by building small devises out of paper clips, screws and other spare parts. They also demonstrated how rifling worked in projectile weapons using a piece of PVC pipe and a ball bearing. This amazed the Hedali as the study of projectiles had long been abandoned by their scientists as useless in war.

They were stunned as the Marines explained that even with their level of technology, they still carried knives, bayonets, and learned to fight unarmed.

The Hedali explained that many of their weapons were based upon mosar, a concept that was clearly going to need more explanation. The weapons would create a wave of energy that would initiate an excited state in whatever material it touched. The excited state would continue to amplify to the point that the material would just disintegrate. The amount of power that each weapon used would determine how much energy the wave contained. That in turn would determine how much mass would be disintegrated each time the weapon was fired.

Williams in particular was interested in how the reaction was controlled, but Firtulm and Giric, Firtulm’s aide, were both diplomats, while Lon was the ship steward and couldn’t explain the process in very much detail.

All of the humans learned several Hedali words and phrases, and the Hedali all learned many English words and phrases. They were surprised that humanity had more than just a couple of languages, and this led to some long discussions among the aliens.

The treaty that was the purpose of the mission had been signed, and Ambassador Thomas had been able to start work on several other agreements along the way. By the time the Fletcher and Torpedo cruised into position behind the Moon, there was a feeling of camaraderie among the humans for their alien friends.

“Colonel, we have a transmission in Hedali coming in directly.”

“Roger Cowboy.” Kyle had spent the last couple of hours in the lab housing the Hedali watching Ambassador Thomas negotiate an agreement that would put some human scientists onto a deep space research station that the Hedali had access to.

“Excuse me Ambassador, but we have a transmission that I think Firtulm needs to take.”

Kyle held out his com unit to Firtulm.

“Thank you Colonel” he said putting the ear piece to the side of his head. He then started to speak rapidly.

Kyle turned back to Ambassador Thomas. “What is it looking like?”

“So far, very good. Our scientists would be protected guests of the Hedali, but would be highly restricted as to contact with other races. It looks like I might be able to get up to three to five scientists on board, one diplomat and a small security detail.”

“How small?”

“One or two, maybe three. Why? Are you interested? I think they would respond well to having people they can trust with them.”

“I’ll think about it, Ambassador. It looks like they are ready to go,” Kyle said as he motioned over towards where Lon and Giric were removing their suits.

Firtulm finished speaking and held out the com unit to Kyle, and motioned for Lon to convey a message to Kyle.

“Colonel, thank you greatly for your timely rescue and hospitality. A small escort vessel is nearby and has asked permission to approach. They have modified their craft’s hatch to the specification for this ship and can dock with us within a few seconds. Will that be good?”

“Yes, that would be fine.” He switched his com to intercom. “Cowboy, we have a Hedali ship wanting to dock. You’re the skipper.”

“Roger Martin, they have my full permission.”

“Lon, you can contact them and let them know it will be fine.” Kyle smiled at the Hedali.

“Thank you, Colonel.”

Lon pulled out the small device that he had explained was a short range communicator and spoke into it. Almost immediately there was a slight jerk felt through the shuttle and by the time Kyle had opened the hatch to the lab, the Hedali vessel had already docked.

The three Hedali started making their way to the main crew compartment. They seemed eager to get back on a ship of their own. Kyle and Ambassador Thomas let them pass and followed them to the lower crew compartment. The rest of human crew, except Donovan, had assembled and were waiting to bid them farewell.

At a nod from Cowboy, Richards opened the hatch and heat poured into the shuttle.  Firtulm motioned Lon and Giric onto their ship and turned back to address his hosts.

“Thank you. Peace you brought and peace you kept. Peace be with you until we meet again.”

Ambassador Thomas said something to him in Hedali and both diplomats bowed deep to each other.

Firtulm turned and went through the hatchway, pulling it shut behind him. A few seconds later the Hedali vessel undocked from the Fletcher and without effort disappeared into the starry sky.

Chapter 6

05 June 2042

Kyle watched Ambassador Thomas as he flipped through a small stack of papers at the podium. The Pentagon hadn’t given any time to prepare for this meeting. In fact, Kyle’s stomach was still slightly stirred from the effects of gravity again. The Fletcher had touched down in the California desert just two hours ago, and they were expected to give a full report on the meeting, ambush and flight back with the Hedali.

The doors at the back opened and a stream of people started into the room. Sharp dressed NASA officials interspersed with Pentagon based Senior Officers came in without the usual flurry of civilian secretaries and aides. The Secretary of State entered last and immediately took a seat near the front as everyone else chatted and exchanged pleasantries.

“Madam Secretary, Director Wilcox, Operations Chief Samuels, Joint Chiefs, and all the others who I have rudely failed to mention by name. As you all know I am James Thomas, Former Ambassador to the U.N., United Kingdom, Saudi Arabia, and China. I am currently the Ambassador to the Hedali, a race of aliens that we have established contact with. Of course, there are less than eighty people total that are aware of that fact.”

“Twenty one of those people were at the point of first contact. Almost all the others are in this room and will be brought up to speed on what happened in orbit around Jupiter and what happened during the voyage back to earth.”

“Andrew Carter was our documentarian for the trip and has close to eighty hours of footage from our encounters. I will now show a clip of what transpired from the time we saw the alien ship to the incident that I’m sure you are all aware of.”

Ambassador Thomas turned down the lights in the room. The video monitor lit up and Kyle felt a slight uneasiness as his face came into focus. He found himself watching those who were not on the Fletcher through the first several minutes. Most of the NASA officials were taking notes, Dr. Adam Crichton, Director of the National Science Center, leaned as far forward as he could when Lon first came into focus, and Secretary of State Milshoe simply played with a pencil while watching. Those who dwelt in the Pentagon sat expressionless with their arms crossed.

The first time Kyle heard a sound was when Admiral Boxer and General Liston both chuckled as Lon palmed the door remote. Carter had managed to capture that on video. As Carter and his camera went down the hallway, Kyle started to pay close attention. The rooms that the team were shown seemed Spartan and devoid of decoration. Whether that was part of the Hedali culture or by conscious design Kyle could only speculate. Around twenty or maybe twenty five Hedali could be seen on the video, several who appeared to be guards. They had a small metal tube attached to a small glass panel affixed to a harness on their chest.

The Hedali all seemed very friendly and attentive to their guests, but since they had met other alien races, this first contact must not have been an odd occurrence. The humans were all very careful in what they said and how they behaved, and Kitch and Ramirez are seen being very careful in where they looked and in not touching their weapons.

Finally the humans were brought into a room with a small table and two chairs. Kyle was a little surprised that he recognized Firtulm and Giric immediately. Firtulm rose and motioned for Ambassador Thomas to sit at the table. After both Ambassadors settled in, there was a brief exchange in Hedali and the tablet that contained the treaty passed back and forth several times as each Ambassador read every clause carefully.

The sound of Kyle’s voice breaking over the communicators shattered the peaceful scene.

“Marines! Boarding action in process, get the Ambassador out of there.”

The room erupted into chaos when part of the far bulkhead melted away as Ambassador Thomas grabbed his com unit.

Kyle had seen this video twice before and was trying to focus on new things each time.  He was watching the Hedali guards carefully this time; watching to see how they reacted to the Otina attack.

There were two Hedali guards in the conference room when the wall melted. The first never got his weapon off his chest as he dissolved into nothingness as he was hit with a pulsing blue wave. The second Hedali guard pulled his weapon and fired into the breached bulkhead and stepped forward in an attempt to screen the others fleeing the room.

The sound of a couple of bursts from Ramirez’s M-31 was evident as Carter and the rest of the team started running down the corridor. A few Hedali guards were seen running towards the conference room, and the blue glow of the Otina weapons was reflected once in a display panel.

As Carter got to the final hallway to the Fletcher, he turned himself about and filmed Ramirez running about eight meters back. Just as the camera stabilized, an Otina stepped out into the hallway and lifted his weapon. Ramirez spun and fired his M-31. He had obviously switched to full auto as his wall of lead caught the Otina before he could fire. Another Otina appeared a second later and Carter’s camera was whipped back towards Kyle, Greene and Kiskaliski. As Carter ran past Kyle, he spun once again and was able catch Ramirez flying around the corner at a dead run.

An Otina popped around the corner just behind him, raised his weapon and fired twice.  Both blue waves hit Ramirez in the back.

Kyle suddenly understood what was happening. As the other Otina came around the corner, the one who had fired at Ramirez was just standing there. He lifted his arm and pointed down the corridor…

“Freeze the video!” Kyle said suddenly and much louder than he meant too. The video kept running, at this point K-man was punching holes in the Otina with his Barrett.

“Stop the vid and go back,” Kyle said, this time looking directly at Carter.

Carter paused the video as Ambassador Thomas came over to Kyle.

“What’s the matter, Colonel?” he whispered in Kyle’s ear.

“The Otina. They aren’t acting right. Go back to the point where Ramirez was hit and move forward at half speed.”

Carter nodded and the video started running backwards.

The dignitaries in the room were staring alternately between Kyle and the screen. As the video moved back to where Kyle had indicated, he walked to the front and picked up a laser pointer.

The video started again, at half speed, and Kyle pointed out what he had seen. The Otina dropped the weapon to his side and just stood there for a good two seconds as his fellow aliens came into the hallway. Just as Ramirez dove past the camera, the Otina who had fired lifted his hand and pointed down the hallway. He wasn’t pointing at Kyle, as Kyle had thought during the event, he was pointing at Ramirez.

“Ok, Carter freeze the vid.”

Kyle looked out at the audience and found what he was looking for. General Liston had gone white as a sheet and K-Man, Ramirez, Williams, and Greene looked shell shocked.

Secretary of State Milshoe spoke up. “What are we looking at, Colonel?”

“Murder,” whispered General Holt. “We cut them down as they were lowering their weapons.”

Kyle pointed at Carter and indicated to start forward again slowly. Indeed, just before Kiskaliski started firing again, all of the Otina had stopped moving forward and the tips of their weapons were dropping.

“Not murder, Holt. They were trying to kill our team,” said General Liston. “But this does bring up a lot of questions.”

“What kinds of questions, General?” asked Secretary Milshoe.

“Well Madame Secretary, in combat you never ask questions when things fall your way. But afterwards, you have to figure out why things fell your way and see if you can replicate them. I think it is clear that the Otina were taken by surprise when Gunnery Sergeant Ramirez was not killed by their weapons. But this leads us to more questions like: Why wasn’t he killed? Why was it so surprising that skilled soldiers stopped their attack? Why were they attacking in the first place with weapons that didn’t harm us? Did they know we were going to be there? Did they know who we were? And so on.”

“Thank you General Liston. Colonel Martin, have any of these questions been answered yet?”

“I think maybe they have, Madame Secretary. The Hedali that accompanied us back to Earth space were rather disturbed about Gunnery Sergeant Ramirez not being killed. At the time I felt that they were truly disturbed by what they saw, but put it out of my mind until we could discuss it later. The reaction of the Otina makes it clear that there was something more at work than what we thought. Discovering the full extent of this reaction should be our number one military priority.”

“I agree, Colonel Martin,” said Admiral Boxer. “This is the number one priority. Make sure that every member of the team is debriefed specifically about the Hedali reaction to Ramirez being hit by their weapon.”

“Ambassador Thomas, is that all of this incident, was there any more of the footage that is essential to see?” Secretary Milshoe asked.

“The footage was essentially over Madam Secretary, we will have some analysts continue to go over the footage, but for the purposes of this meeting, we are done,” replied Thomas, even as he continued to look at the vid-screen.

“Then let us discuss a few other points. First, we need to expand our teams. We need to bring in more experts and more staff. I expect a 20% increase from each team in the next two weeks. They must be eligible for the security clearance and they must meet the highest level of quality for this assignment,” Secretary Milshoe said.

She stopped speaking suddenly and looked over at CIA Director Wilcox.

“Dave, I think we need to make a trip to the White House tomorrow. Make sure to get Frank Wiseman there. We need to tell him,” she said.

Kyle was a bit stunned that the President’s Chief of Staff didn’t know about the mission or possibly even the existence of the Hedali. It seemed clear, then, that the President himself did not know. Plausible deniability was obviously the order of the day.

“The second issue we need to deal with is the agreement that Ambassador Thomas secured concerning the deep space research station. We have been invited to send three scientists to the station as guests of the Hedali. Chief Samuels, I would like NASA to coordinate with Dr. Crichton and the National Science Center to get us the best scientists to go there. You will have no restrictions beyond security issues. Are there any questions or any other issues we need to deal with today?”

A few people stirred and looked around.

Secretary Milshoe stood and gathered her papers.

“Gentlemen, thank you for your time. It was important that we see this as soon as possible. It is still in the vital interest of our country to ascertain the full military, scientific, social and political implications of this event. While you must be aware that what you have participated in is still under the highest security we can manage, your country, and indeed I feel the whole of humanity, owes you a debt for acting as the first pioneers in this endeavor. That is all for this meeting, we will set up a schedule for debriefing.”

Instead of people leaving the room, everyone who wasn’t on the Fletcher was trying to corner someone who was. Kyle was able to get most of his Marines out of the room in a couple of minutes, but as they started heading back to the barracks, he noticed that Williams and Ramirez were missing. Just as he headed back, he saw them coming with a crowd of dignitaries behind them.

“You will all get a chance to debrief him later, but we really need sleep now” Williams was yelling back at the crowd as Ramirez was trying hard not to run down the hall.

Kyle parked himself in the center of the hallway and stared at the crowd. They slowed their speed and by the time Ramirez and Williams got to him, the crowd was starting to break up.

Kyle turned and went back into the barracks. “Get some rest Marines then grab some food. It looks like we will be here for a while.”

09 June 2042

The schedule of debriefings was brutal for most of the team. Four or five sessions with teams of interviewers. Doctors were brought in to probe, prod and test every aspect of the team’s health.  Psychiatrists sat behind one way mirror analyzing every word, facial expression and body movement. Greene had a case of food poisoning that quarantined the base for a solid day until they were sure it wasn’t an alien disease manifesting itself.

But the meeting that Kyle was currently going to was different. Williams and he were asked to be there by a NASA biologist named Schroeder. He opened the door and walked into a small lab that looked disconcertingly like a high school chemistry class room.

Williams was sitting there with a dog-eared Faulkner novel on a stool in the corner. He looked up and nodded at Kyle. “Colonel, good to see they haven’t debriefed you to a pulp yet.”

“Thanks, but I feel like it.”

“Had the MRI yet?”

“Nope, had the snake yet?”

“Yep, got that the first day. Knew it was coming, asked to be first in order to get it out of the way.”

“Good call, Alex waited and now he is all worked up about it.”

The door opened and in walked an old man with a full head of white hair. He didn’t say a word, he just walked to a desk and hit a few buttons.

“Over here, gentlemen” he said as he walked over to a small white table. He hit a switch on it and a hologram of a molecule floated above the table’s surface.

“Mister Martin, how familiar are you with chemistry?”

“Colonel,” Williams said reflexively.

“What?”

“Colonel. His name is Colonel Martin, not Mister Martin.”

“Do I have to salute him?”

“Well, no, you don’t.”

Kyle smiled at Williams. “He’s got you Sergeant Major. Why don’t you call me Kyle, Doctor Schroeder. And assume that I am as familiar as Sergeant Major Williams here. If I need to ask a question along the way, I will, don’t worry.”

“Very well, Mister Martin. Do either of you gentlemen know what this molecule is?”

Williams looked at it closely. “I’m more familiar with non-organic chemistry, but it looks like a protein.”

“Very good, Mister Williams. It is a protein. It is in fact a protein taken from human saliva. Now what do you think this is?”

The hologram shimmered and changed.

Williams looked at it closely and finally shook his head.

“It looks like a protein again, but there is something wrong. What is that, and that?” Williams said pointing at little parts of the molecule.

“Good eye, Mister Williams. Those are why I called you today. This is a protein from a sample of saliva we were able to retrieve from the Fletcher. We are positive that it is a sample from a Hedali. In fact, I have been in conversations with the Hedali and they confirmed that is what we have. I reciprocated by sending molecular structures of many different materials from earth, and you know what they told me?” he paused for dramatic effect.

“What did they tell you Doctor Schroeder?”

“They told me I was modifying the information. That I was leaving something out.” He leaned over to the hologram and pointed at what Williams had found odd. “They claim I am leaving out that.”

Williams stared at it intently. “It is a bond of some sort, like a peptide, but not quite right,” he said softly.

“Mosar.”

“What?”

“Mosar is what they call it.”

“What is mosar?”

“An element we missed on our chart Mister Williams.”

“Excuse me? We missed it?”

“Yes Mister Williams, we missed it.” Schroeder walked back over to his desk and pulled up a small piece of cardboard with the periodic table printed on it.

“Tell me Mister Williams, what are we missing on this chart?”

Williams took the chart and looked it over. “Nothing Doctor Schroeder, everything is here from Hydrogen to Untroctium.”

“What about zero, Mister Williams? What element has no proton?”

“There isn’t an element without a proton. There can’t be.”

“Just like there can’t be a number that doesn’t represent anything?”

“Zero. That was what opened up mathematics.” Williams fumbled for a stool nearby and sat down. “But how did you discover this?”

“The Hedali explained it. They were rather dismayed that I didn’t understand a basic building block of chemistry. They rather looked down upon me when I expressed my ignorance.”

Kyle was a little confused, but he thought he was starting to catch up to speed. ‘So Doctor Schroeder, are you telling me that you have discovered a new element that makes up our bodies?”

Schroeder looked at Williams and smiled. Kyle heard Williams start to hyperventilate.

“No Colonel, he’s telling us that we don’t have this element at all.”

Kyle looked at the hologram as the implications came closing in.

Chapter 7

04 August 2042

Emily Troy stood on her toes looking over the small crowd.

“Great,” she thought. “I look like a seven year old on the first day of school.  Why couldn’t he be taller?”

Her brother was only 5’ 8” tall, not exactly what someone would imagine of one of the most highly decorated Marines in U.S. history.  He was also very good at moving through a crowd unseen.

“Hey sis!” Alex Ramirez said as he pinched Emily’s bottom.

She gave a sharp yelp and slapped his shoulder as she turned towards him.

“Jerk!” she laughed as she gave him a big hug.

“It’s good to see you,” he said gripping her so tight she squealed a bit. “How are my nieces?”

“They are doing great! Marcy had the lead in her third grade play and Becky is this tall now,” Emily said holding her hand out right at Alex’s chin.  “She is the second tallest in the entire fifth grade. And she loved the card you sent her for her tenth birthday, Alex, she was so excited that she slept with it under her pillow. I told Mom, and she said that she had gotten a call from you the week before, but was in such disbelief that she didn’t want to tell me until she could be positive that you had been released. Why did they let you out? Scratch that, you couldn’t tell me anyway. So anyway back to the girls, Marcy and Becky said to give you a hug when I see you, so here is a hug from both of them.”

Alex hugged her twice and started to speak, but Emily cut him off again.

“I was so excited when Dr. Berg called. I mean, to get a call from the head of NASA’s exobiology department saying he wants me to be his team lead on a new project. It’s just unbelievable.  I haven’t talked to him since we were in Argentina, and out of the blue he calls me. It’s so exciting. Rumor is that they found a couple of fossils in a meteorite on the moon. Do they know the origins of the rocks? Look who I’m talking to, why would you know?”

Alex stood shaking his head. She was still his little sister. Even though he missed her 40th birthday last year it didn’t stop her from talking full speed like she had when they were teenagers.

“Come on, let’s get in the conference room” Alex said as he started moving her towards the door of the auditorium.

Emily thought it was strange to hold a meeting for a bunch of geologists in the Pentagon, but she also thought it odd that she didn’t recognize many of those wearing the guest tags.

“Hi Emily.”

Emily caught her breath when she saw Kyle.

“Kyle. Colonel Martin... why are you here?” Emily asked, clearly confused.

She thought back to the first time she had met Kyle Martin.

It was 18 years ago at a cookout at her parent’s house.  She was halfway through her Doctorate program and was home for a visit with her husband when in walked a very normal looking man and his pretty, very pregnant wife.

Her father had seen him and waved him over.

“Kyle, so glad you and Sandy could make it. This is my daughter Emily and her husband Brett.”

“Nice to meet you both, thank you for the invitation, General.”

“Are you in the Marines, Kyle?” Brett asked without a hint of sarcasm.

Emily had rolled her eyes at this question, as anyone who spent time around the military would instantly pick up on the subtle hints that Kyle was a Marine.

“Yes, I am Brett. What line of work are you in?”

Emily had noticed that Kyle had quickly, and effectively, changed the subject.

“I just finished Law School and am studying for the Bar right now,” Brett replied.

“That’s great Bill. General, is Alex here yet?”

He knew Alex. A cold chill ran up her spine.

After Kyle had excused himself, Emily had asked her father if Kyle was one of his officers.

“No, he is Alex’s CO,” Victor Ramirez said looking into his daughter’s eyes with no doubt as to the real question and answer.

Again Emily shuddered. She and Brett had left the cookout early when she told her husband she was feeling sick. She never told him the real reason. Emily had just met a man who was a cold blooded killer. A few years later the world knew him as “The Butcher of Hyderabad”. She just knew him as “Kyle”.

“Emily?” Alex shook her shoulder a little harder to get her attention. “Earth to Emily. You there?”

Kyle was looking at her expectantly.

“I’m sorry, must have zoned there for a second. How are you Kyle?” she finally sputtered.

“I’m good.”

“And why are you here?”

“Because I’m the military liaison for this… endeavor,” Kyle said.

She looked at Alex and back at Kyle.

“So the reason Alex is here…?”

She let the question trail as she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.

“I’m here because Colonel Martin needs an aide,” Alex said.

The three of them stood there in awkward silence for a few seconds.

“I never got to extend my condolences to you. Brett was a good man,” Kyle said with surprising warmth.

“Thank you Kyle, it’s been hard but we have adjusted for the most part,” Emily said.

Alex coughed to get her attention. “Come on, let’s go get a seat. Everything will be clear in the next half hour or so.”

Emily let her brother guide her into the auditorium as Kyle said goodbye and walked further into the lobby.

She was still trying to get over the shock of seeing Kyle Martin when a man stepped up to the podium.

“Thank you everyone. Please find your seats.”

“That’s Ambassador Thomas,” Alex told her as more people started filling up the room.

She wasn’t that politically aware, but she still didn’t think very many people would be able to name any ambassador.

“Alex, I thought this was a geological project. Why are there so many military people here? And why is an Ambassador in charge of this meeting?”

“Shhh. You’ll find out in a couple of minutes.”

“But…”

“Shhh.”

“Don’t you shush me, tell me what…”

“Am I going to have to separate you two?” The cheerful voice of Doctor Amanda Reeling suddenly interrupted as she stuck her head between the squabbling siblings.

“Amanda, what are you doing here?” Emily said as she stood up and hugged her dear friend.

“Doctor Berg asked me to be a part of the project, do you know who is heading it up?”

“I am,” whispered Emily as the doors closed and quiet finally settled over the room.

“Good afternoon everyone, thank you for coming,” Ambassador Thomas began speaking. “Those who are not familiar with our project will be given a set of data with all information. Please hold all questions until the end of our presentation, if you will. Let me lay out a few basic facts that you may need time to adjust to.”

Emily shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She had agreed to head up this project based upon her previous work with Doctor Berg, but she now had the sneaking suspicion that she had been had.

“The first fact is that we have made contact with an alien race.”

Emily felt the blood rush to her head. While others in the room gasped or went pale, she became focused.

“The aliens that we first encountered are known as the Hedali. Due to some circumstances that arose during our initial meeting with them, we have been invited to have a few of our scientists go to a deep space research facility. This, I think we can all agree, will be a wonderful step towards expanding our knowledge of the Universe.”

“Indeed,” thought Emily. “This is like discovering fire.”

“Please, let’s hold all questions for just a little longer,” said Ambassador Thomas, trying to maintain control of the increasingly loud mutterings filling the small auditorium.

Emily barely heard the rest of the short introduction. She started devouring the information pack and getting ready to lead her team. By the end of the day she knew that she would be in deep space in two months and that her team would be making breakthroughs that would lead humanity into the future.

28 September 2042

Emily looked over and saw her brother strapped in next to her. He gave her a quick wink and smile, which made her smile back at him.

The Shuttle Greenway was roaring to life. Emily and her team were going to be traveling to a deep space research station seventeen light years from earth. Amazingly, the longest part of the trip would be the eight day journey aboard the earth vessel. From there, the six humans who would be continuing on would be in a Hedali scout vessel that would be able to reach the station in less than fourteen hours.

Doctors Amanda Reeling and Howie Grant were her fellow researchers on this mission. Her brother and Colonel Kyle Martin made up the security detail for her team and Ambassador Jim Thomas was the diplomat who had talked his way into being aboard the station.

She didn’t really care as she was going to be meeting aliens soon. Real, living, honest to goodness aliens. She felt giddy and started to grin. Then she felt the Shuttle moving and felt her stomach drop. She was never a big fan of amusement park rides, and that is exactly what the launch reminded her of. Gratefully the feeling stopped in a few minutes.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to outer space,” Captain Brendlin announced over the intercom system. “We will be rendezvousing with the Space Station Galaxy in a couple of hours. After a brief stop there, we will continue on to our final destination.”

Emily sighed and relaxed.

The Hedali had given her team some files describing life on the station and some details concerning the other races that would be stationed there. The station itself was divided into various areas, including common areas and separated living areas for each of the races. The common areas were the galley, the labs, and the docking area. The Hedali had agreed to bring a supply ship for the humans every two months, and to provide long range communication. They would be seventeen light years from Earth, and yet they would be able to communicate with NASA with only a six hour delay. That was an amazing thought.

Even above the thought of being in deep space and all the magical-seeming technology they would get to see, she was more excited to meet the four races that would be sharing the station. They all breathed oxygen, they all processed foods the same way, and they all had relatively similar requirements for temperature and gravity. The Hedali would be in the warmest part of the station and the Sortag in the coolest. The rooms set up for the humans would be the second coolest, and have the richest oxygen mix.

The Junniji had the most scientists and staff onboard followed by the Hedali. The Iltia’cor had the same number of scientists and research staff as the Sortag, twelve, but they also had the largest number of security, at twenty two. In fact, the Iltia’cor had more security on the station than all of the rest of the races combined.

The most surprising thing Emily discovered while going through her information packets was that Ambassador Thomas was not the only diplomat to be on board. An Iltia’cor named Kiltao Bregan was someone of importance. Apparently the name “Kiltao” was a title of command, but also a kind of noble ranking. This particular Iltia’cor was interested in the field of xenobiology for the sole purpose of discovering how easy it was to kill alien life forms; at least according to the Hedali. The Hedali were afraid of the Iltia’cor for some reason, and that was likely coloring their opinions of Kiltao Bregan and his team.

Her brother and Colonel Martin had warned the entire team to not stay in the lab if the Iltia’cor came in when no other aliens were around. She thought it was pure poppycock, but if it kept the Marines happy, she would make sure her team complied.

But she did hope to examine them at some point. The Iltia’cor had a very dense body mass according to the Hedali. They were incredibly strong and quick as well. She could see why they had an intimidating reputation and showed a penchant for using their strength to get what they wanted.

The Sortag were apparently able to breathe methane and survive in a high chlorine environment.  She would love to get more data from them and see what else they would reveal about themselves.

The Junniji were a gentle, quiet race according to the Hedali, but they were also among the first race to acquire space travel some two thousand years before. Their superior technology and weapon systems kept them safe and their drive for knowledge of all kinds made their scientists the most desirable researchers to work alongside of. She certainly hoped they would help her team some.

She turned her head when she felt a slight tap on her helmet.  Alex was smiling and pointing out of the small window on the hatch of the Greenway.  She could see the orbiting space station.  She smiled and felt a wonderful glow flow through her.  It was a brand new galaxy, and she would get to see it all.

Chapter 8

06 January 2043

“Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can do for you Alex?” Kyle asked as he watched his friend pack his bag.

“Thanks Colonel, but there really isn’t anything else to do.  Emily has to stay here for the mission and the girls need someone to take care of them.” He turned to face Kyle. “You know, when I got the word that Dad was killed, I was angry… sad… full of emotion. But I wasn’t surprised. He was a warrior in the middle of a war. Things like that happen. But a woman in her late 60’s shouldn’t just drop from a heart attack in the vegetable aisle at the grocery store. It’s not right.”

Kyle shook his head. “No it isn’t, Alex.”

Alex looked away from his Commanding Officer and glanced around the room one more time. “It… it just feels like I was gut punched, Colonel.”

Kyle couldn’t believe how much things had changed in the last two days. The first three months on the station, the mission had been going great. Emily and her small team were feeding tons of data back to NASA seemingly every hour. The Hedali had introduced Ambassador Thomas to the three other races that shared the facility, and Kyle and Alex had been the guinea pigs for their scientists as their jobs of “security” had been pretty relaxed.

Then two days ago the daily NASA communiqué came. The first line was simply “Abigail Ramirez has passed away after a heart attack.” A follow up personal communiqué about an hour later had provided the details.

Abigail had a sudden and massive coronary while shopping. Her sister Kelsey had come and picked Emily’s girls up at school and told them of their grandmother’s passing. Alex could go home and take care of the girls if needed, and his Aunt Kelsey had requested that if possible.

Due to the nature and secrecy of her work, it was established that Emily Troy was indispensable.  She could only send a message to her daughters.

Thus Alex had decided to go home and be with his nieces while his sister finished up her one year assignment.

A tiny chirp on his communicator brought Kyle back to the present.

“The Hedali scout ship is just docking, Alex.”

“Thanks Colonel, I guess I had better say goodbye to Emily and get down there. Did they say who was going to replace me out here?” Alex asked as he shouldered his bag.

“Williams wanted it, but he had a hard time convincing them that he was security. K-man was the best choice, all things considered.”

“He knows there isn’t a range up here, right?”

“Yeah, and he grumbled about that more than you did, Alex,” Kyle laughed. It was good to see Alex get a little of his sense of humor back. Gallows humor is common for a Marine, but Alex had been very tight since he found out his mother had died.

“Well Colonel, until we meet back on earth.” Alex sharply saluted Kyle, and once the salute was returned he turned and walked out of their tiny barrack room.

Kyle looked at the “earth clock” that they had in their room and realized he would not be able to get something to eat before his meeting with Ambassador Thomas.  He sighed and headed towards the daily briefing. He knew that routine kept everybody’s head clear in these kinds of missions, and so he reminded himself every day of the importance of these briefings and made sure he had three new random facts to give Ambassador Thomas as part of his presentation.

The door opened and Ambassador Thomas looked up from his small desk.

“Good afternoon Colonel, please have a seat,” Ambassador Thomas said motioning to the chair in front of his desk. “Day 97 is coming to a close.”

Kyle chuckled and sat down.

“Only 3 days from 100, Ambassador, do you think we should celebrate?”

The door opened up and Lon stepped in. “Good afternoon Ambassador Thomas and Colonel Martin.”

Kyle could immediately sense that something was very wrong. The Hedali was jittery and nervous and made an odd squeaking sound as he looked at both of the humans.

“What’s wrong Lon?” Kyle asked without thinking. He saw Ambassador Thomas flinch from the corner of his eye at the possible breach in protocol.

“There has been an incident. There have been some deaths,” Lon said.

Kyle stood up. “Who has been killed Lon?”

“Doctor Emily Troy and Kiltao Bregan,” Lon said turning his head slightly away from Kyle. “Alex Ramirez killed Kiltao Bregan.”

“Why Lon?” Ambassador Thomas asked without so much as a quiver in his voice. “Why did Ramirez kill Kiltao Bregan?”

“From what I gathered, Alex Ramirez walked into the lab just when Kiltao Bregan killed Doctor Emily Troy.”

Kyle’s breath caught in his throat for a second. “Lon, where is Alex?”

“I’m sorry Colonel Martin, but Alex Ramirez has been taken by the Iltia’cor security forces and is being subjected to their trial.”

“What do you mean trial? When will this take place? We need time to get a lawyer here to talk to Alex.”

Lon’s throat was turning a deep blue, which Kyle knew was a sign of great sadness among the Hedali. “The trial is already started Colonel Martin. The Iltia’cor have taken him and have started it already.”

“Lon, what kind of trial is this?”

“They will have six of their security forces beat him until he is dead. I am truly sorry.”

Ambassador Thomas leaned heavily against the wall for support.

“Ambassador, get the rest of our delegation and go to the Hedali ship. We need to get out of here. I’ll go get Alex, I think we just started a war.”

Ambassador Thomas hurried out of the office as Lon bobbed up and down. “No Colonel, the trial has already started. There is no chance to save Alex Ramirez.”

Kyle felt a great sense of pity for his Hedali friend. “No Lon, I’m not worried about Alex, but if we get there quick enough we might save some of the Iltia’cor. Please, which way is it?”

Lon stopped and looked at Colonel Martin. He was learning much about humans, but was still not sure how their humor worked. The Colonel seemed sincere, but Alex Ramirez was not as strong or as fast as the Iltia’cor… and yet, he remembered watching his bravery and abilities that first day of contact between their races.

“This way Colonel,” Lon said as he turned and quickly went down the hallway leading to the common areas of the station.

In the common dining area, Kyle saw Hedali, Sortag, and Junniji scientists and staff gathered in small groups not looking around. The Iltia’cor were in one large group talking loudly in their multi-tonal language and making large gestures. When they saw Kyle come into the room, they stopped talking and stood as one facing him. Kyle ignored them and followed the fast walking Lon into the Iltia’cor section of the ship. There were no rules or diplomatic problems going into another race’s private section of the station, but it was generally implied to be impolite if you were not invited.

Kyle didn’t care if he was being impolite at the moment; he had to stop Alex from making a bad situation worse. Two Iltia’cor security guards were looking at a door when Kyle and Lon approached. There was a lot of noise coming from inside.

Lon pointed at the door. “The trial is in there, Colonel Martin.”

“How do I open the door, Lon? I need in there.”

Lon started to push a button on a panel when one of the Iltia’cor guards hit him hard across the face knocking him back into the wall behind Kyle.

Kyle didn’t believe in fighting fair. He didn’t believe in fighting dirty. He believed in walking away from any fight you were in. The guard who hit Lon saw Kyle move, but the second guard didn’t.

Kyle grabbed an arm of the second guard, twisted it behind the alien’s back and then dropped to his knees. The motion and torque pulled the second guard over Kyle and slammed him into the wall.

Kyle popped up back to his feet and delivered a sharp, hard kick to the face of the stunned guard lying on the floor.

As anticipated, the other guard grabbed at Kyle. Kyle was already in motion though, jumping straight up and swinging his head back hard. He felt the pain shoot through his skull and neck as the back of his head made contact with the guard’s face. Kyle dropped forward and kicked back with both legs as his hands made contact with the ground. His kick hit the guard solid in the midsection, where the Iltia’cor’s lungs were if he remembered correctly, and the guard collapsed right in front of the door.

The sounds behind the door had stopped. Kyle scrambled to his feet and pushed the button on the panel. The door slid open and Kyle saw Alex drop the Iltia’cor body. Alex had cuts and bruises all over his arms, neck and face. He was missing a boot and his uniform was half torn off his body. He had a short metal pipe in his hand that was dripping a clear, viscous liquid.

“Colonel, they killed Emily, they just cut her throat.” He limped over to Kyle.

“Let’s go Alex, we have to get to the ship,” Kyle said as he supported Alex.

Lon had regained his feet after the jarring hit to his head and stood looking at the carnage inside the small room. Six Iltia’cor security guards lay dead or seriously injured. Two more lay unconscious in the corridor outside the room and the two humans responsible were having a calm conversation.

“What have we unleashed on the galaxy?” he thought.

“Lon. Lon!  We have to go,” Kyle said to the clearly stunned Hedali.

“Colonel Martin, I will go with you on the ship. There are things we need to talk about,” said Lon.

“Very well, let’s go,” Kyle replied.

He helped Alex past the Iltia’cor lying in the corridor and into the elevator that took them to the docking area. Thomas had assembled the rest of the human delegation at the Hedali scout ship.

“Colonel, we are ready to go,” said Thomas looking at Lon.

“Lon says he needs to come with us, Ambassador,” Kyle said as Alex was helped aboard the ship by one of the human scientists. “Do the rest know what happened?”

“Doctor Reeling and Doctor Grant were in the lab area and saw what happened,” Thomas whispered. “It was just like Lon said. Kiltao Bregan walked into the lab, picked up a surgical blade, and cut Doctor Troy’s throat without a word. Ramirez had just stepped into the lab on the other side when it happened.”

Kyle shut and secured the hatch behind him.

“There will be a reckoning over this, Ambassador, but I’m not sure what it will be. One dead human and at least four dead Iltia’cor will not be easily overlooked by either government. We need to find out what Lon is holding back from me and why he needs to come with us.”

Kyle and the Ambassador moved deeper into the crew compartment.

“Hey Alex, are you ok?” Kyle asked as he nodded at K-Man who sat stunned beside Ramirez.

“No Colonel, I am not. Emily is dead!  How can I be ok? I think I just started a war. No, they started it by killing my sister!”

“You’re right Alex, they did. Your duty is done for now. You are on leave. I’ll come back in a little bit and we can talk some more.” Kyle looked at Doctor Grant who was stitching up a nasty rip in Alex’s left arm. “How is he physically?”

“Multiple contusions and lacerations, some pretty deep. I think he has a few cracked ribs and his ankle may be fractured… maybe just a bad sprain. He’ll be fine, unless there is an infection I can’t see, but he won’t be feeling well for a good while,” Doctor Grant said.

Kyle saw K-Man handing Doctor Grant a syringe from the med kit. Alex would be out in a few seconds and Kyle could fill K-Man in on what happened later.

“Keep me updated Doc.” Kyle motioned Thomas to follow him up to the bridge.

As they approached the hatch, Kyle slowed to a stop and listened. Lon was speaking fast and soft on the communicator.

Thomas leaned over and whispered. “Lon is disobeying orders. Apparently the Iltia’cor have demanded that we be turned over to them and the Hedali government agrees. Lon has said that he is taking us to Earth and the Earth government can turn us over if they want to.”

Kyle nodded. Pulling the Ambassador back with him, Kyle went back into the crew compartment to wait for Lon.

About ten minutes passed before Lon headed out of the bridge. He saw the two humans waiting for him and took a seat near them.

“Ambassador Thomas and Colonel Martin, there is much sorrow for what has happened to Doctor Troy and Alex Ramirez. My superiors have commanded that I have our ship rendezvous with an Iltia’cor Cruiser and allow them to arrest you and your delegation. I have refused. I have told them that I will be taking you to Earth since we are your hosts on the Station. The Iltia’cor have become infuriated. They are making plans to punish you and your people. I do not think this will change by handing you over to them.”

Both Kyle and Ambassador Thomas sat quiet for a few minutes.

“Lon, how do you think the Iltia’cor will punish us and our people?” Ambassador Thomas asked.

“They will attempt to conquer Earth by force and enslave all humans,” Lon replied.

“For a few dead scientists and soldiers?”

“They have done it before, and for much less,” Lon said calmly. “They have fifteen planets that they control. Five are in the Iltia system. The other ten are of races that have insulted them and they have conquered.”

Kyle sat forward and asked Lon “Why are you doing this?  Won’t you get in trouble?”

“When I first met you, Colonel Martin, you seemed to me a person who was used to getting what he wanted because he had the authority to command it. After I have known you for some time I realize that you are a person who is used to getting what he wanted because he knew he was correct in wanting it. Your authority comes from your belief that what you are doing is right.”

“I will be punished, imprisoned even, when I go back to Kortit. If I am right about you and humans as a whole, I will live long enough for my actions to be justified. If I am wrong, I will not have to worry about a life in prison as I will have doomed my world to the Iltia’cor as well.”

Kyle saw Thomas lean back. The time for diplomacy was over and now it was up to Kyle to gather the information that Earth would need to fight back against the Iltia’cor.

“Lon, how will they attack?” Kyle asked.

“They will take out your military first. Then they will land and start enslaving your people in the cities,” Lon said.

“But they know we aren’t affected by mosar based weapons, right?”

“Yes, Colonel Martin, they have older weapons that they still use for… primitive races. Mosar based weapons are expensive to use, they consume much energy. There are other energy weapons that they use as well. You have started working with them I believe.”

“Lasers?  High burst energy weapons that burn?”

“Yes, I believe you call them lasers. They also have some supplies of weapons that use nuclear fission, but they haven’t used them in over a hundred years.”

“Good, hopefully most of their nukes have gone inert if they haven’t kept them up. With luck, they won’t think of them. Ambassador, we will need to make a list of people to start contacting as soon as we get a com link set up. Lon, you have been very helpful, your personal risk will hopefully save many human lives. Thank you.”

“You are welcome Colonel Martin, I know you have much work to do and I need to explain to the crew that they will not be held responsible for my actions.”

Chapter 9

10 January 2043

“Yes General, the report I sent you is real. It is not a joke. The timetable has been clarified within the last hour. We are looking at the invasion fleet nearing earth within forty hours. Yes. That is correct. No, we recommend that you abandon your military bases and heavy equipment. Yes… well… I know. We think they will bombard the military bases from orbit before landing near our cities. I know, but you can check your reports and see that we are doing the same. Thank you. Good luck to you to.”

Kyle switched off the phone and rubbed his eyes.

“Do you think he will do it Colonel?” Major Kitch asked.

“I’m not sure Kitch, I hope so. General Moseved seemed to believe me, but whether he can convince the High Command in time will be the bigger question.” Kyle yawned and looked at the clock. “Looks like we are within the forty hour mark. Have you heard back from Langley yet? We need to have dependents moved from our installations within four hours.”

“Yes sir, everything looks to be good except for a glitch near Aviano.  Apparently the local government is worried about why we are moving our people off the base. I guess the info hasn’t filtered down to that level yet,” Kitch said without looking up from her display.

“Ambassador Thomas will be breaking in on all networks in a few minutes, I guess they’ll learn with everyone else. Well, speak of the devil.” Kyle picked up the remote and turned the sound up on the TV panel on the wall. A news anchor was introducing Ambassador Thomas as he approached the podium at the UN.

“James Thomas is a former U.S. Ambassador to the UN, Great Britain and China. He is President emeritus of the Council of Foreign Relations and was the key negotiator for the U.S. in the settlement of the Indian war. He has called for an emergency broadcast, and he is speaking…”

“Thank you Secretary General, Ambassadors, members of the media, the people of the U.S. and the people of the world. A little over a year ago, the U.S. received communications from an alien race.” Thomas had to stop for a few seconds to quiet down the questions being shouted to him.

“Please, please, all of your questions will be answered, but it is vitally important that we get this information out to you. Due to circumstances beyond what we have time to explain at present, another alien race has declared war on us.”

At this point the cacophony was overwhelming. Even Kitch looked up from her screen. She looked at the pandemonium on the screen and then over at Kyle. “Looks like they are taking it pretty well, Colonel,” she said as she poured another cup of coffee.

“That they are, Kitch, that they are.”

A few minutes passed before Thomas was able to be heard clearly again. In fact he was shouting.

“Yes, we have a plan! Yes, we are trying to get information out! Here is the long and short of it, a race called the Iltia’cor have decided to invade Earth and enslave humanity. But we won’t go down! We will fight them where they land and drive them back to the stars. But we don’t have a lot of time. They will be here in less than two days and we need to prepare. Each government has been given information that will help them. The U.S. military will aid in any way we can. But as much as we must fight as a world, we must fight as individual nations, as individual cities, as individual families and as individual people.”

“Each of us, individually, has a stake in this. Each of us, individually, can make a difference. If you see an Iltia’cor come into your village, into your neighborhood, into your home, you need to make sure that he will not kill you, your children or your neighbors. We will not be conquered and we will not be taken!”

Hastily thrown together graphics started filling the screen as the media scrambled to be the first to put up the newly disseminated information.

Kyle muted the TV and started to lean back.

“Colonel Martin?” a voice behind him said.

Both Kyle and Kitch were up from their seats in a flash, completely surprised by the man standing behind them.

“Who are you and how did you get in here?” Kyle asked roughly as he looked back at the closed door behind the stranger.

The man was dressed in dark slacks with a light blue dress shirt and a yellow tie. His light brown hair was slightly receding, and his nose looked like it might have been broken at some point in his life. He held his hand out to Kyle.

“My name is Franklin Smith,” he said as his hand remained unshaken. “I’m here to observe for now, but we’ll get to that in a moment.”

All three people in the room stood motionless for a few seconds.

“I’ll ask you again, Mister Smith, how did you get in this room?” Kyle asked with more than a touch of irritation in his voice.

“I walked in Colonel Martin. I walked past your guards and through that door. Does that satisfy your question?” Smith responded as he lowered his hand and sat down in a chair near the door.

Kyle and Kitch continued to watch him carefully as he settled in.

“Ambassador Thomas was truly inspirational, didn’t you think?  I hope he was able to bring up that legendary human fighting spirit. We were concerned that fear might paralyze your planet into inaction and make the Iltia’cor invasion a simple event. But I’ve been studying humans for quite a while, and I think that you have a shot of making it at least uncomfortable for the Iltia’cor to hold your planet.”

Kyle looked at Kitch and nodded. They both sat back down and Kitch turned back to her screen.

“Mister Smith, I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” Kyle said coolly. “Can you tell me who you are and why you are so eager to be with me at this time?”

“I am an alien in plain language. The name of my people are the Pelod.”

Kyle watched impassively as Smith continued.

“We have been on your planet for around 200 years now, Colonel Martin. We have observed your people and your habits and honestly we felt that you were interesting, but no more than an anomaly of nature. Surely not a race that would have an impact on ourselves or any other major race. We were, apparently, very wrong. I’m sad to say that although we are scientifically much more advanced than you and our level of technology and engineering… well, let’s say that we are impressed by very little in terms of technology and engineering. But as I was saying, although we are more advanced than you, it did not occur to us that your lack of mosar was anything more than a weird aberration in your solar system.”

He shrugged uncomfortable for a second and his confident persona slipped just a moment. If Kyle hadn’t been looking for it, he would have missed it entirely.

“But it is important, isn’t it? Our lack of mosar.”

Smith looked over at Kitch, weighed some thought quickly, and turned back to Kyle.

“Yes, it’s important. It wouldn’t be except for the rest, but we can see now that it is very important.”

“Does it have to do with the weapon theories among the other races?”

“Very good, Colonel Martin, but it goes beyond that. One might be tempted to speculate that you would be invincible in combat against other forces, but that’s not true. Mosar based weapons are very expensive to run. They are common enough, but not every race can afford them in mass quantities…”

“If I can interrupt and ask a question that I have never had answered.”

”Please Colonel.”

“How did the Otina have mosar weapons then?  Aren’t they a minor race, more a nuisance than a power?  ‘Vagabonds of the Galaxy’, I think Lon told me once.”

“Indeed, but not quite. They are pirates and thieves for the most part, but that means they have money.”

“Who would sell them top of the line weapons then?”

“Why we would, Colonel. The Pelod. The arms and technology dealers of the Galaxy.”

Kyle glanced over at Kitch who was obvious in her attempt not to be listening. He looked back at Smith and started to speak. Smith spoke first.

“Because we have no home. The first system the Iltia’cor took in their history was Terti, our home world. Those who escaped found work as engineers, chemist and inventors.  As it turns out, weapons were a very good seller and for the last 600 years we have plied our trade to every known race who had the resources to afford it.”

“Including the Iltia’cor?”

“Yes.”

“But they destroyed your home world.”

“Not destroyed, just... they took it over. While it’s true the people who live on Terti are under the oppression of the Iltia’cor, 600 years has allowed us to come to some understanding. We give the Iltia’cor a discounted price on our technologies we develop and they leave us be.”

“So you’re their useful slaves?”

Smith bristled at this and sat forward in his seat.

“Colonel Martin, I have a great deal of respect and admiration for your people. But I must warn you never to say that to another Pelod. Some may not have the restraint that I am showing.”

“So you do have some fight in you.”

Smith leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Yes Colonel Martin, I suppose we do, although staying in the background and letting business take care of itself is part of who we are now.”

“You mentioned that you have observed us for 200 years, but the Hedali said that no one would even come to this system because it was a ‘dead’ system, meaning we had no mosar. Why did the Pelod come here then?”

“For the iron, of course. Your system has an abundance of pure iron. Earth clearly has plenty, but you have entire asteroids of it in your system and Mars was an uninhabited planet with livable conditions and a solid iron core. We have had one of our major manufacturing facilities on Mars for the last 150 years.”

“Why Mars and not Earth?”

“Fear of discovery and disinterest I suppose. Your people have always been an oddity to us, but as we were engineers and craftsmen, your biology or society never really interested us.”

Kyle’s mind formed the words and he spoke carefully. “Were you responsible for the destruction of the Space Shuttle Endeavour in Mars orbit a couple of years ago?”

Kyle noticed Kitch out of the corner of his eye. She obviously had no idea that the Shuttle was at Mars when it was destroyed.

“No Colonel Martin, we were not responsible for that. It was an Otina warlord named Jii who decided that he didn’t want his ship spotted by your vessel. Our people at our facilities were completely stunned by his reckless actions and there was even debate about whether to contact your people and let them know what happened. The Hedali communicating with you a few weeks later ended that decision as we really don’t want the Hedali to know we are in the area.”

“I’m sorry Mister Smith, this is a very stressful time for me and you are just pouring out information. If I seem a little scattered with my questioning, please forgive me. Why, exactly, did you not want the Hedali knowing you are in our solar system?”

“Not just did not, but do not. I came to you over the objections of many of my advisors. The Hedali are… weak. Not bad or evil or even contemptible, but weak. If they were questioned by any race who they felt threatened them, they would give any and all information immediately. It’s not their fault, really, they are scientist and knowledge seekers by their nature and culture. They have almost no military to speak of and even their few soldiers and military leaders are not held in high esteem. The repelling of an Otina attack on one of their ships had never happened before humans came into their existence. You may not realize it, but you, personally, are something of a Hedali legend now. The repelling of the Otina and then the killing of the Iltia’cor make you and Sergeant Ramirez the most whispered names on Kortit. If word got out that we were in your system, other races, like the Iltia’cor, would find reasons to come here and put pressure on us. We would likely have to move our base of operations and find another desolate system to work out of.”

“Then how did the Otina know you were here?”

“We invited them to come and buy directly from our base. They are steady customers, and as pirates and raiders, don’t want their locations known either.”

“How long have the Otina known of us?”

“Around 150 years. They are the ‘Greys’ of your UFO lore.”

“Cattle mutilations? Abductions?”

“Yes, Colonel, those things happened. The Otina were looking for something to sell. Some angle to work. Some would come and do experiments on your planet.”

“And you approve of this?”

“Not really any of our concern, Colonel.”

“So what is your concern?”

“Business. The Iltia’cor fleet is about to warp into this system. We will be shutting down all operations until they are gone. This means, of course, that we may be shutting down operations permanently if they are successful. The reason I came was on the off chance that they are not successful. If they fail to capture your planet, or if they find the cost to keep your planet too high, they will leave your system and we can begin work again on Mars. If that happens, we hope you will become a customer of ours. If enough of you are left alive.”

“So you just want to see what the outcome of the coming war is before you make your move?”

“Yes, Colonel.”

“Is there any technology that would help us before they arrive?”

“Yes, and I might be willing to sell it to you, but there would be no time to train any of your people on how to use it.”

“Then why show up at all? Why not just let the war happen and make your decision then?”

“Trust. If I had shown up after the war, assuming you win, you might think I was an agent of the Iltia’cor rather than a neutral observer.”

“Why shouldn’t I think you work for them now and you are only here to gain my trust?”

Smith seemed a bit taken aback by this. “I underestimated your cynicism, Colonel. I don’t know how to prove myself.”

Kyle smiled. “You may have just done that Mister Smith. If you had planned to trick me, you would have likely had an answer for that question.”

“You are a dangerous man Colonel Martin. I would very much like…”

“Colonel,” Kitch interrupted. “We have a signal from the Neptune probe. The Iltia’cor ships are entering the system.”

Kyle turned back to his station leaving Smith hanging in mid-sentence. “Keltner, this is Martin, what is the estimate?”

“Getting the figures back any second sir. Hold on, almost there. Good Lord… we are getting a reading of… 41 hours til Earth orbit.”

“Almost precisely what the Hedali predicted it would take once they hit our system.”

“Sir?”

“Go ahead Keltner.”

“That’s close to 100,000,000 kilometers an hour or close to 10% of the speed of light. What are we dealing with Colonel?”

“Nothing we can’t handle Keltner. You just let me know if there is any change.”

Kyle turned to Kitch and said “I have an idea, get the data we have from Neptune and get it to General Moseved. It might convince him and get the Russians moving quicker. Send it to The Hague, the UN, Beijing and Delhi as well.”

“Sir, this is classified data, do we have the authority to send it out?”

“I don’t know, but it’s my responsibility.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Colonel Martin, I know you are busy. I will return before the Iltia’cor start their attack. I’ll let myself out,” Smith said as he stood.

Kyle watched him leave and turned back to his screen.

Chapter 10

27 January 2043

“The attack on Earth did not go as the Iltia’cor planned. Exactly four minutes after their fleet established Earth orbit, the Iltia’cor fleet around earth started their bombardment of all major military installations on earth. The time of the start of the assault was 1821 Greenwich Mean Time on January 12th. By 1838 the bombardment had stopped and the Iltia’cor assault vessels started their decent towards approximately fifty three hundred urban areas around the planet.”

Kyle never took his eyes off the screen as he once again narrated the sequence of events. He was in his Marine uniform, but a star sat where his bird had so proudly perched for years. The promotion ceremony was short and hastily arranged, and had ended just about an hour before.

“Individual landing pods separated approximately two minutes later, and by 1843 Iltia’cor soldiers started moving out of the pods and assaulting Human cities, towns, villages and settlements. We estimate approximately one point four million Iltia’cor soldiers left the pods. We believe that they were not expecting the type of resistance that many places around the world demonstrated. In some countries, they were successful in pacifying the local population for a short while, but in most places around the world, especially those in areas where the populace is well armed, they met disaster. By our estimation 97% of Iltia’cor soldiers in Switzerland and Israel never made it back to their landing pod. In a suburb of Tel Aviv, we have seen verified reports that some Israelis boarded and captured one of the landing pods. We are in negotiations with their government to get a peek inside.”

Images of destruction from around the world punctuated the calm demeanor and voice of Kyle and the charts and graphs that made up the bulk of the presentation.

“In the major American cities, Iltia’cor casualties reached close to 80%, and in some rural communities in the U.S. their losses were much higher. As an example, Coffeyville, Kansas reported forty eight dead bodies of the attackers. This is a town of around fourteen thousand people and we estimate that the Ilita’cor sent a single pod of fifty soldiers to pacify it.”

“Overall, we estimate that close to six hundred thousand Iltia’cor died on their assault in Earth. Our estimates are that close to one million humans were killed in the bombardment and attack. The Iltia’cor fleet left orbit at 1927, an hour and six minutes after they started their bombardment.”

As he turned around to the six people in the room, he wondered how many small groups he would have to present this information to over the next week. With four communication satellites in the sky, there was some information getting out to the general population. Those he was briefing had more sources of information than most, but even their understanding of events was tied loosely together by their knowledge of what to expect before the attack.

Martin had been among those who insisted that satellites be stored in rural areas for storage during the attack.  He knew of forty six more satellites that were being moved to various launch points, but the Iltia’cor targeted and destroyed almost all rockets that were capable of orbital launch. Thankfully most of the U.S., Russian, and Chinese shuttles were all able to be put into space and moved by the Torpedo far enough away that the Iltia’cor ignored them.

“General, thank you for the rundown,” General Davies said with a relieved sigh. “It’s good to know that many of the rumors are true.”

“You’re welcome General Davies. Glad we could give you some good news. Thank your wife, again, for sacrificing her rose bushes for the effort. I’m sure that satellite sitting in your backyard wasn’t what she wanted to see in the attack.”

“I did have to promise to replant them when this is over,” Davies laughed. “But we were glad to be of help.”

“Thanks General, we’ll be in touch,” Kyle said as he turned to head towards Sergeant Major Williams who was waiting by the door.

“What do you have for me, Williams,” Kyle said as he neared.

“Good news, sir. You know how our guys were saying it would be at least two months before they could get a good idea on how to replicate the alloy used by the Iltia’cor in their landing vehicle? I got a message out of Tinker by HAM today that says they have a guy who teaches metallurgy at Oklahoma, a Doctor Michael Willers, who got a piece of that alloy and was able to replicate it.”

“In two weeks? Are you serious?”

“Yes sir. We have sent someone to pick him and his work up so we can verify, but it sounds promising.”

“That is great Williams, better than I could have imagined. Get him set up at the McGregor complex, whatever he needs. If he’s legit, we need to get going on this. If he’s trying to con us, make him walk home.”

“I’ll let you know once we get him settled in, sir.”

“Thanks. I have to go meet with Smith now. Did you get to look at those schematics?”

“Yes sir. There is no way we can even begin to make them; the theory is beyond anything I have even heard about.”

“That’s what I thought. No wonder he was so quick to agree. That confirms to me that we will have to buy the engines from him. If this guy has really figured out the alloy, that solves part of our problem, but I guess Smith will get his sale of the engines. Get back with me tomorrow as soon as you can.”

“Will do, sir. And congratulations on the star, General Martin.”

Kyle smiled a little as Williams walked away. After everything that had happened involving Hyderabad, he never thought he would gain the rank of General. He felt a great sense of accomplishment. He felt the weight of that star as well. Admiral Rider had been cajoled out of retirement to take the position of Supreme Commander of Earth Forces. One of his demands was that Kyle be made a General and be given command of their fleet operations.

Looking at his watch Kyle realized that he had to step quickly if he was to meet with Smith on time. He was habitually punctual, but Kyle always wanted to be a few minutes early when meeting with the Pelod leader. Franklin Smith never declared himself the leader of the Pelod, but he talked about his advisors and his staff on a regular basis, so as far as Kyle was concerned, Smith was their leader.

He entered the small conference room and let out a sigh of relief. He had once again beaten Smith there, two minutes ahead of the meeting time. He knew that Smith would walk in precisely at 1330. He noted the chocolate glazed doughnut and coffee had been set on a side table. That meant Kitch had already been down there and prepped the room. No cameras, no recording devices, just like Smith insisted on.

As Kyle bit into the doughnut, the door softly opened and Franklin Smith stepped into the room.

“General Martin, a pleasure to see you again,” Smith said as he sat in the chair across from Kyle.

Kyle finished swallowing and took a quick sip of coffee. “Mister Smith, thank you for agreeing to meet me again. Can I get you anything?”

“Thank you General, I’m fine. I just came from lunch. Thank you for the recommendation, that is quickly becoming my favorite Earth food.”

Kyle smiled and took another bite of his doughnut. It surprised him that Smith would become such a fan of Mexican food. He had become quickly enamored of Maria’s Mexican Café, their chicken enchiladas in particular.

“Tell me General, have you ever had the sopapillas?  What a light, delicate food!” Smith said with a true look of pleasure on his face.

“I have, Mister Smith, did you have them drizzled with honey?”

“Honey. Interesting, I will have to request that next time.”

“I’m glad I could help your culinary exploration, Mister Smith. But I think we need to talk about the engines that Earth will need before too long.”

“Straight to business, I like that in a potential customer. Very well, what did your inspection of the schematics tell you?”

“They told me that we will definitely need to buy the first series of engines required for sustained space travel.”

“Very well. Do you understand the stress that it will cause to any vessel as the warp field is established?”

“Yes, we fully understand that we will need ships built of materials that will hold up to the stress of the engines.”

“And you understand that we cannot provide you with the alloy in the quantities needed to build ships?”

“I think we will be fine, Mr. Smith”

Kyle loved to watch Smith try to hold surprise from his face. He was disappointed this time as Smith’s jaw dropped open.

“Do you mean to tell me, General, that you have discovered how to make this alloy on Earth?”

“I don’t think I will reveal all the cards in my hand, Mr. Smith. But the engines are what we are most interested in.”

Smith leaned back and looked at Kyle for a long few seconds before he spoke.

“General Martin, before I make another step forward in this transaction, I must risk our business by asking a personal question.”

Kyle shifted uncomfortably. This was a new angle from Smith.

“I can’t guarantee that I will answer, but you are free to ask.”

Smith looked down at the table for a few seconds, and then began to slowly speak.

“I am not a big believer in wanting to know what my equipment is used for. The Otina never volunteer that information, for example, and I never ask. But since I have become more familiar, General Martin, I cannot help but wonder at the complexity of you. You are known by some as ‘The Butcher of Hyderabad’, but you have never seemed to me as the type of man who could order such a massacre. So I have to ask why you did.”

“Why did I order the massacre of over one million Indians?”

“Yes, General Martin. Why?”

“In order to save one billion Indians.”

Both men sat looking at each other.

“I’m sorry General Martin, is that an idiom or statement of folklore that I do not understand?”

“No, Mister Smith. It is the honest truth.” Kyle took a deep breath. “What I am going to tell you is a story that is protected by every level of security in our nation. By telling you this, I am revealing classified information that I will be forced to deny at every point. Do you understand what I am saying Mister Smith?”

“I do, General.”

“I was Special Operations Commander during the Indian war. We had besieged the city of Hyderabad and I was there with my command looking for ways of breaking the resolve of the Indian Command, looking for security information, etcetera.”

Kyle stood and walked over to the window and looked out.

“While I was there, I received an urgent communication from a former Danish operative that I had worked with several years earlier. He was a man I trusted with my life and I decided that if he was trying to reach me it must have been important. It was.”

There was a short pause as Kyle carefully chose what to say.

“He got me linked up with a General in the Indian Strategic Command. As part of my position, I was often in contact with officers from the other side as we maneuvered against each other and parlayed for different sources. He was frantic. The war was not going well for them. They had supply issues that were wearing them down and political pressure was mounting to win the war. They had lost any sense of how to do it at that point, and the Indian High Command had decided to gamble it all.”

“They had decided that since they had acquired some Chinese ICBMs in the first days of the war, that a mix of Indian and Chinese missiles might be able to defeat our missile defense system. The Strategic Command had advised against it, but they were overruled. The Indian government was going to launch a full scale nuclear strike against the U.S. mainland in less than twelve hours.”

Kyle looked back at Smith who was sitting in rapt attention at the edge of his chair.

“This particular General had been educated in the U.S. and had a much higher awareness of the nature of the U.S. population than those in the High Command. He was convinced, rightly I believe, that if India launched those missiles the American people would not rest until every Indian was killed.”

“The American people are difficult to rouse to a level of bloodlust, Mister Smith, but it is in them. I believe with absolute certainty that if India had launched those missiles without a good reason, that the nation of India would not exist today and one billion Indians would be missing from our planet.”

Kyle walked back over to his chair and sat down.

“There was no way that the launch was not to take place. For two hours we examined different scenarios to get them to stop the launch.”

Kyle leaned in across the table to look directly in Smith’s eyes.

“There was no stopping the launch. At 1434 on June 18th, the nation of India was going to launch 342 nuclear equipped warheads at every strategic military and urban center in the United States. There was no stopping it.”

“So at 0841, I ordered the destruction of Hyderabad. Phollux rockets covered the city in burning phosphorus. Over a million people died in a few minutes of burning, suffocating agony.”

“News of the destruction of the city was instant. Coverage worldwide brought in commentators asking why the U.S. would do this to a foe that was on their last legs; asking why we would kill so many innocents.”

“At 1434, 342 warheads left Indian soil and raced towards the U.S. At 1439, 342 warheads had been destroyed by our counter measures. Not a single warhead detonated on U.S. soil. Not a single American was killed by their strike.”

Kyle sighed and sat back in his chair.

“The news of their attack was muted. No one was killed. But a million had died in Hyderabad. No loss of lives against a million. That’s how they measure the news.”

“But if Hyderabad wasn’t destroyed, the news would have been about how India threatened the lives of 500 million Americans. The American people would have demanded blood. Hyderabad would have been just the beginning as the madness of bloodlust spread into the Command structure.”

“I have the blood of one million on my hands. I cannot ask for understanding. I cannot justify the loss of life. But I do not regret the decision I made.”

Smith slowly rose and simply said “I will draw up the contract, General.”

As Smith left the room, Kyle realized his hands were shaking. It had been several years since he had told the background of what happened and he remained as convinced as ever that he had done the right thing. It was an awful act that should never have happened. But it was the correct decision.

“War is an evil that destroys those who survive it,” he muttered to the empty room. He had seen too many friends killed, too many innocents die, and too much blood on his own hands. And now he was preparing to bring death and destruction on another race of beings.

“General, Ramirez is on the line for you,” Colonel Kitch said as she came in the room. “Are you alright, sir?”

“I’m fine, Kitch, thanks. Just been a long day already,” Kyle said. “How much time do I have until the next briefing?”

“About twenty minutes, sir,” she said as she checked her watch. “Ramirez is on hold, I think he has some good news.”

“Thanks, Diane. Find a time for the team to have dinner this next week. Make it Tuesday if you can. Let’s go for a steakhouse. On me.”

“Will do, sir,” Kitch said as she left the room.

Kyle put Alex on speaker.

“This is General Martin.”

“Sir, Ramirez here. I have some good news for you.”

“The Chinese?”

“They are on board, sir. They also seem to think that the Russians will soon follow.”

Kyle let out a slow breath. With India, China and Russia supporting the Global Defense Initiative, there would be no serious resistance in the Security Council.

“Good to know, now get back to Alexandria as soon as you can. We need to set up our operational teams and I will be in the Congressional hearings starting next Thursday. I need you here to vet our team leaders.”

“I was hoping to charter out today, but it might be Saturday before I can get a flight.”

“Kitch will be setting up a steak dinner on me for Tuesday night. You don’t want to miss it Alex.”

Alex laughed, “No sir, I wouldn’t miss that. Kitch never scrimps when it’s your money.”

“Alright, see you in a couple of days then, Martin out.”

Kyle punched off the phone and readied himself for his next briefing.

Chapter 11

06 April 2043

Sergeant Major Williams scowled at General Martin. “This isn’t that hard, I mean conceptually.  The math is pretty complex, but the concept should be understandable.”

“Carl, maybe if I had time to study it, but I don’t. Just bottom line it for me,” Kyle said with his head lying on the conference table. “How fast can the warp engines move our ships?”

Williams sighed and closed his eyes. “For the last time, it’s not a matter of how fast, it’s a matter of how stable the field is.”

Kyle looked over at Sergeant Ramirez reading a news report in the corner. “Can you help me here, Alex?”

Alex looked up at them as if suddenly hearing what was going on. “Can’t explain it any clearer than he did, sir. Doesn’t sound that hard to me.”

Kyle stared at the two Marines until both men shifted uncomfortably.

“Ok, man, here it is,” Alex said finally. “If we have fully stabilized warp fields, we can travel approximately 7 to the 14th klicks in an hour.”

“That sounds really fast,” Kyle said. “Can I get that in context?”

Williams grunted and turned away.

“In 5th grade terms, sir, it’s one and a half light years an hour,” Alex said. “We could cross the entire Milky Way in about seven and a half years if we could keep a stable field that long.  And remember, it would take light about 100,000 years to pull the same trick.”

“So really, really fast,” Kyle said blankly looking at the closed folder in front of him.

Williams turned back around. “Really, really, really fast, sir. They will get us to where we need to go.”

“Ok, just wanting to make sure we get our money’s worth.”

Williams picked up his paperback and looked towards the door. “These engines will be worth it, sir.  Even though they may cost us well beyond what the Council would like. We have to take the fight to the Iltia’cor, or we will find ourselves isolated.”

“He’s right, sir,” added Alex. “The Pelod will likely not offer us this deal again. If the Iltia’cor decide to punish any other planets… we’re alone. We have to gain allies, and that means standing up to the bully.”

Kyle looked at the document in his hand. Fourteen full member Nations had representatives on the Earth Council. Fourteen Nations that a mere year ago couldn’t have agreed on the color of the curtains or shape of a table at a Motel 6 meeting room.

“Hello General Martin.” Chancellor Thomas strode into the room followed by four of his aides. “Sergeant Ramirez, Sergeant Major Williams good to see you gentlemen again. I trust you are doing well?”

“Doing well, Chancellor, thanks,” Alex said.

Kyle stood and stepped over to Thomas. “Good morning, Chancellor. Anything new on the Kortit front?”

Thomas shook his head. “Sorry General, the Iltia’cor are still blocking all official news and we haven’t heard anything concerning Lon.”

“I’m needed back in the lab and I’m sure Alex will be able to make up a similar excuse, sir. So if you will pardon us, we need to get out of the way,” Williams said as he and Ramirez started to the door. “Chancellor, good to see you again and congratulations on your election.”

“Thank you Sergeant Major,” Thomas said with genuine gratitude.

Kyle waited a few moments after Williams and Ramirez left the room. “We are responsible for Kortit being targeted by the Iltia’cor. Me and Alex most directly, but Earth as a whole. If you think that is going to cloud my judgment or compromise my desire to get this deal done, you need to take me off of this duty right now.”

“General, Admiral Rider has full confidence in your ability. When he was selected by the Earth Council to be the Supreme Commander of Earth Forces, he was adamant that you be our military point man for all alien contact,” Thomas said while he and his aides started opening their folders and getting their tablets set up.

Kyle nodded slowly and sat back down at the conference table. He hoped he could remain focused and detached during the negotiations, but Lon was his friend. He was imprisoned by his own people for allowing Kyle and Alex and the rest of the Earth researchers off of the research station. But even while he was going through all of that, Lon was able to somehow convince one of the Junniji on the station to secure Emily Troy’s body and have it brought to Earth for burial. For that action alone, Kyle and Alex owed Lon deeply. It wasn’t a debt they were grudging about; it was one of those debts you were glad to own because it tied you together with bonds of friendship that could never be broken.

As horrible as Kyle felt when he heard Lon was imprisoned, he had an even greater sense of fear and guilt when he heard that the Iltia’cor had taken over Kortit a mere week after their failed assault on Earth. This was what the Hedali feared and blamed Lon for. No matter where he was on that planet, he was in tremendous peril from both the Iltia’cor and his fellow Hedali. Both races personally blamed him for what happened.

“Please God, let him be alive,” Kyle prayed as he steeled himself for the meeting that would start in just a few minutes.

Smith had sent over some preliminary schematics and some technical benchmarks for the Earth Security technical team to pore over. From the analysis of the data, it was conjectured that a small Scout vessel and a larger Cruiser would be able to be built with the titanium alloy that Dr. Willers had developed. Some fairly well developed rail guns, some solid-fueled missiles, and a few experimental laser systems would suit well for the weapon systems of the ships. Shield technology was just a pipe dream at this point, but without mosar in the building materials, the Iltia’cor heavy weapons would be rendered ineffective anyway.

Earth just needed engines; engines that would allow her ships to travel light-years in hours and days. That is what the Pelod could deliver.

“Good afternoon gentlemen,” Mister Franklin Smith said as he slipped almost unnoticed into the conference room. “I trust our business can go forward?”

“Mister Smith, welcome,” Thomas said as he rose from his chair and reached out to shake hands with the Pelod.

Smith froze and looked around quickly. Kyle tensed.

“I’m sorry Chancellor Thomas, I have heard that humans sometimes confirm an agreement with a handshake and I just don’t want to make that mistake before we go through the contract,” Smith said with what Kyle chose to read as embarrassment and not irritation.

“I am very sorry, Mister Smith,” Thomas said, clearly chagrined. “I merely wished to greet you to the meeting and was in no way trying to use deception to enforce anything you would not want.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Chancellor Thomas,” Smith said as he smiled warmly and took a seat at the table.

Kyle realized he had tensed up during the brief exchange and forced his muscles to relax.

“My engineers have looked over the schematics of the two vessel designs you have given to us.  Both are very good designs and will serve you well, in their estimations. We have calculated that you will need two engines for the smaller vessels and ten engines for the larger vessels in order to maintain a powerful enough warp field to travel.” Smith looked at his tablet.

“My superiors have also made clear that payment must either be upfront or in a highly controlled payment schedule.” Smith looked up again. “Unfortunately, you do not have the correct… monetary units for lack of a better term. So we will be making this deal with barter.”

“We’re still looking for a galactic bank with free checking,” Kyle said as he prepared himself for a bad day of negotiations.

“Mister Smith, could I ask a question at this point?”

Smith nodded. “Of course General Martin.  That’s what these negotiations are for.”

“You mentioned your superiors. That was a little surprising to me, to be quite honest. I thought you were the leader of the Pelod.”

“No, General, I’m not. And I apologize if I gave that impression. I am one of the directors of the facility on Mars, but I answer to several levels of authority.”

“Thanks for clearing that up. Now, what kind of trade would you take for the barter?”

Thomas cleared his throat. “Yes, if we could see what we would be expected to provide, that would be a good start.”

Smith took a data chip and handed it to Thomas. “There are some basic materials we would like.  The figures have been converted to your metric tons, in thousands.”

Thomas downloaded the data and his aides started running through the items. Kyle’s eyebrows went up slightly as he read the list. Coal. Bauxite. Platinum. He wasn’t sure how many metric tons were available on Earth, but he was puzzled by the fact that these materials were fairly common.

“Mister Smith, why these raw materials?” Kyle thought he heard Thomas moan a little at his continued breaches in protocol.

“Mosar. Or more precisely, the lack of mosar. Some of the minerals are just rare and valuable items, like the platinum and palladium, but others, like your coal, are very rare to find in such quantities without mosar.”

“But I thought you were mining on Mars? Surely you can get the other materials there as well.”

“Not really, General. We went to Mars for the iron, and iron everywhere is free of mosar. Mosar is part of the chemical binding of all materials. Well, except materials which have never been introduced to mosar. Your planet, more specifically life on your planet, is proof that mosar does not need to be present for elements to form proper bonds. We would like to obtain large amounts of your raw materials to experiment with.”

Thomas interjected. “You want use of some of our facilities on earth?”

“Yes, in particular smelting facilities that we can work with on Earth based materials for some of our more innovative engineers.”

“How many engines for this list?” Kyle asked.

“Sixty for this list.”

“That would only be five cruisers and five scouts worth of engines.”

“Yes General, that should be enough to protect your system from the Iltia’cor.”

Kyle looked over at Thomas and shook his head.

Thomas nodded and looked back at Smith.

“Mister Smith, what if we could offer you a little more?”

“What would be in your offer?”

“Mineral rights in perpetuity for Mars and her moons. Joint mining rights to all asteroids in the system. And a defense agreement with Earth and its people.”

Smith typed on his tablet for a few seconds and then waited. The seconds stretched into a couple of minutes and then he nodded. “How many engines would you want for this additional payment?”

Kyle typed a number on his tablet and sent it to Thomas. The Chancellor paused for a second and then he looked up to meet Smith’s eyes. “We would like an additional 150 engines.”

Smith jerked a little and Kyle knew he had struck close to the maximum that Smith superiors had agreed to.

“That might be a little high, but let me see what I can do,” Smith said smoothly as he went back to typing on his tablet.

Thomas had been starting to worry, but when he looked back at Kyle, he had just the slightest smirk forming.

“Yes,” thought Kyle. “We will take the war to the Ilita’cor. We will make sure that we, the Hedali, the Pelod, and any other race willing to work with us will never have to feel the boot of oppression on our neck.”

Six grueling hours later, Smith left with even more minerals procured, a few extra addendums concerning water, and a permanent research facility in Brazil. In exchange, Earth had 180 engines that they now had to build ships for.

Thomas sat back in his chair as his aides packed up their things. He looked over at Kyle and chuckled. “That was the hardest negotiation I have ever been in. What made you asked for another 150 engines? I would have asked for twenty.”

“We need as many as we can get. Need drove me. Also, I saw his face. He had us bought for a sucker’s price. I knew he was lowballing us, I just had to figure out by how much.”

“Rider was right. We do need you when we deal with aliens. You seem to have a sixth sense around them.”

“Thank you. I just wish I could figure out how we can fix our mistake.”

“You mean Kortit? We can deal with that once we start winning the war.”

Kyle frowned and shook his head. “I disagree, Chancellor. I think we win the war when we figure out how to free Kortit.”

Kyle stood and started pacing. “The Iltia’cor have, what, eleven planets now under their thumbs? How? And why?”

“Because their military advantage is so great that the oppressed planets have no choice,” Thomas answered. He was carefully watching Kyle as if the General had turned into a dangerous serpent.

“I disagree. I think it’s because those they have conquered expect the Iltia’cor to hold a strong military advantage. They don’t like to think they have been conquered by a weaker force than they imagine.”

“A paper tiger?”

“In many ways. The Iltia’cor are very effective in their assault methods. The damage to our military facilities is extensive and the Earth will bear the scars of the attack for years if not decades to come. But what happens when the assault fleet moves away? They leave a small force, able to suppress an uprising for a short while, but if there was a full scale rebellion, how would they handle it?” Kyle asked, clearly on a roll.

“How?” asked Thomas.

“They would send their assault fleet back to put it down again.”

“And it would be worse for the rebels than before,” said Thomas.

“Correct. But do they have enough forces to put down multiple rebellions? If several of their subjugated planets were to go into full rebellion at once, the Iltia’cor would be scrambling to keep them all under control. If even one planet were to overthrow their yoke, it could start a chain reaction on the rest of the planets.”

“What exactly are you thinking, General?” Thomas asked, sitting on the edge of his seat.

“I’m not sure yet, but Kortit must be the first planet liberated. If we liberate the Hedali, the Iltia’cor will fall. This I know for sure. We just have to figure out that puzzle,” Kyle said as he sat back down. “It’s the engines. We have to figure out what to do with the engines. When we can figure out how to use them correctly, we can free Kortit. And when we do that, we beat the Iltia’cor.”

Thomas stood from his chair and stretched. “I guess we should build some ships then.”

“Yes, but a few steps are needed before that. We need to get some serious amounts of titanium and get a smelting facility for it. The Chinese have some basic designs for an orbital smelter and we are trying to get that arranged.  Between the U.S., Russian, Indian, Chinese and Australian shuttles that survived the attack, we are standing at eighteen.”

“What about the ion burst engines?”

“We have one Boeing factory and a McDonnel-Douglas factory working full time on them.  Should have six a week at full capacity.”

“Great, how many will we need?”

“Two per Shuttle, but eventually hundreds. As soon as we can fit them to the Shuttles we can start looking for asteroids rich in titanium.”

“The moon?” asked Thomas.

“The Norwegians have an extraction method they want to try. We can set them up on the Russian moon base, there are supposed to be some favorable sites near there.”

“What next?”

“We need shipyards. We have one being built at the moment, it will focus on manufacturing the Scout vessels. We have another ready to start next week. I would like to see at least two more started in the next two months.” Kyle shut his eyes and grimaced. “We need more engines.”

“Sir, I don’t know that we do,” Williams said as he entered the room.

“What do you mean, Carl?” Kyle asked as he swung his chair to the doorway.

“Well, sir, I have an idea,” Williams said with a smile on his face. Kyle knew that smile. Williams had an idea, and that made him very happy, very quickly.

Chapter 12

14 September 2043

“Updates?” Kyle said as he hurried into the Operations center.

“Have live feed, sir.”

Kyle sat down at the empty chair and popped in the ear piece as he looked at the monitor.

“… Jenkins is down. Littel might have been taken out, not responding. … Keltner, report in. … Keltner here, my team is accounted for. … Grant, what is your status… Henders, here, Grant is down, lost Yevos and Klein. … Hold there Henders, we have help moving to you….”

Kyle hit mute on the line and looked around. “Johnson? What is your tally?”

Sergeant Johnson popped his head up over his station. “Looks like upwards of ten lost, maybe as many as fifteen. Another twenty to thirty down, and maybe three times Otina down in sight.”

Kyle did the mental math. Eighty men stationed on the asteroid, maybe forty-five wounded and killed.

“Sir, we have finished our sweep, only one large vessel was involved, and we have tracked it out of the area. Colonel Rafferty thinks that it is over for now,” a young Lieutenant said. Kyle was skimming his memory for her name, but other thoughts took priority.

“Can we evac our wounded on the Shuttle?” Kyle asked the man sitting next to him.

“Yes sir, Doctor Pearson believes the med bay can handle the worst cases, and we will pack up the rest and get them back here tomorrow at the latest,” Colonel Richards responded

“Good. Now get Major Rostovich in the briefing room, I want to find out what happened up there.”

Kyle stood up and walked over to the far door, his tension clearly visible to everyone in the room. He hated losing men in combat. He hated sending men into the line of fire, but that rock was too important not to secure.

“General, I have a video feed of the assault.” Major Rostovich was already in the briefing room setting up a video panel by the time Kyle got there. “Five small vessels, likely small single pilot fighters, and twelve landing craft launched from the large Otina vessel. The small vessels attempted to take out the Shuttle as it was landing; our heavy support weapons took down two of the fighters, while the larger vessel and three of the fighters retreated from range. I think we got lucky in that they were using mosar based weapons. I don’t know how soon they’ll realize that won’t work, but I wouldn’t think too much longer.”

Martin sat down and started pulling up various reports of the attack as Rostovich continued filling him in. “They managed to get twelve landing craft to the ground and about 200 to 300 ground troops deployed. They were using high explosive and energy weapons, but no projectiles that we could determine. Grant’s squad looks like the hardest hit, the main structure on number 2 collapsed right on top of them.”

Kyle watched the images as he carefully listened. “Did they get any of their landing craft off?”

“No sir, looks like some Otina tried to high tail it back to their vessel, but we took the craft down before it was able to escape. When that one went down, the large vessel hit it hot and fled the engagement zone.”

“Any captured?”

“Yes sir.” Rostovich looked up from his tablet with a shocked look on his face. “Rafferty says they have over one hundred Otina held in the terminal station. They are securing them now, but he says they are not resisting.”

“Make sure he has complete control at all times, we have never had POWs before and I don’t want any surprises. What relief do we have heading out?” Martin asked while looking at Rafferty’s report on his own tablet.

“Epsilon and Intrepid were already heating up, Epsilon is supposed to pick up the cargo, but I have it on hold in case we need to send more troops,” said Rostovich.

“No, release it, the Otina are pretty stunned I would say. Have it and Intrepid pick up the cargo, and get Ramses heated up with a med team and an engineering team. We need to repair number 2 and keep mining.” Martin shut off his tablet and looked at his master roster.

“We need a strike force to handle the Otina, I fear,” Martin said lowly.

Rostovich shook his head. “Sir, I don’t think the Council will appreciate starting a second front on this war.”

“Not a second front, Erik, a simple strike force. The Otina are disrupting our titanium production, and we are slipping behind schedule as it is. The Norwegian extraction method has hit a snag on the moon so the asteroid belt is our best hope.” Martin looked at the construction schedule on his board. “It looks like the ECS Enterprise will be ready for some test runs soon. Life support has passed the 72 hour mark without a hitch and the weapon mounts are live.”

Rostovich sighed heavily. “I can’t believe you convinced the Council to name Earth’s flagship after a TV show.”

Martin smirked a little. “It was also the first space shuttle, right?  So you can’t blame me entirely.”

Rostovich started pulling up names. “Who do you want on this strike force?”

“Why not give Salazar the job?  Spain has been waiting for one of theirs to get a command, and Ramon is a top notch commander. He can pick his own XO, but make sure Kiskaliski is on his team, that will give him a good tactical advantage for anything he comes up against.”

“Yes sir. Will get it set up,” Rostovich said.

“Sir.” Sergeant Jackson knocked on the door as he opened it.

“Yeah Jackson, we are just finishing. What is it?” Martin asked as he looked up.

“Colonel Rafferty wants to give you some intel personally, and Mister Smith just walked in the door and took a seat.”

“Send Smith in, and put Rafferty through on line one. Rostovich, set up the force, give them three scooters. That should be enough to hunt down the Otina. Parnell’s long range transmission array should be able to coordinate with them.”

“Yes sir, the roster will be set by tomorrow,” Rostovich said as he gathered his tablets and data connections and left the briefing room.

Smith deftly stepped into the room a mere second after the Major left. Kyle picked up his line and motioned for Smith to have a seat.

“Martin here, what do you have for me Rafferty?”

The voice on the other side was deep and rough, Rafferty was an old school infantry man who never aspired to rank but just wanted to stay in the action.

“General, I have a tale to tell. Weirdest thing ever.”

“Go on.” Kyle was intrigued, Jack Rafferty was always taciturn and direct. Something must have rattled him for him to start like this.

“Well, seems like the Otina are waiting for death or worse. We have a linguist here who is trying to talk to them and they seem really distraught over it. They keep saying “just continue” or something like that. I have a feeling it’s a vernacular for “get it over with”.

“Hold on a second, John,” Kyle said hitting mute on his line. “Mister Smith, how would Otina handle prisoners of war?”

Smith grimaced as Kyle asked the question. “They wouldn’t. Otina would only be interested in imprisoning one of their own who had committed a violation of their code of laws. Any being of another race captured would be summarily executed or in the case of a few warlords, they might be subjected to medical experimentation.”

“So if we were to have taken some prisoners, they would be expecting the same treatment?”

“Undoubtedly.”

“Thank you Mister Smith,” Kyle said as he turned his line back on. “Colonel Rafferty, I think we may have a great opportunity. Seems the Otina think we are going to summarily execute them.”

“So we break them up into small teams and isolate them. Give each group the idea that they have been spared for some reason.”

“Exactly Colonel, only no interrogations. Keep them separated for about four or six hours, then pool them back together. Get some linguist to listen in, record everything, and we will see what they talk about when they are confused, and probably relieved.”

“Yes, sir. Rafferty out.”

Kyle sighed as he sat back in his chair.

Smith stirred a bit, hesitated, and then spoke. “I take it from what I heard that I gave you information that you have used for your advantage?”

Kyle smiled and stared up at the ceiling. “If I say yes, would that give me a discount on the engines?”

“I’m afraid not, General.”

“If I say no, would that get me the discount?”

Smith laughed and then had the decency to look surprised. “I’m sorry, but the prices are set fairly by our treaty.”

Kyle dropped his sight from the ceiling and stared at Smith.

“In addition to the coal and other minerals we are giving you, we also gave you a facility and some of our engineers are helping you with the titanium based alloy we have designed for our ships.  In just a few years, you will be able to design warp engines that have no mosar.  We expect to see a nice new contract that will allow us to be the first kids on the block to have those new, shiny engines.”

“Of course, General. I am one of our sales specialists who are convinced you will be victorious over the Iltia’cor. Success, as they say, is a looked for quality in a customer. At least that’s a common saying for weapons sales.”

Kyle pulled up a chart on his tablet. “We have improved our impulse ion engines to run at 14,000 kilometers an hour and our burst ion engines can now reach eight percent of the speed of light. We have made some significant advances in our engine capabilities in the last few months, wouldn’t you say?”

“Indeed, General, it has been most impressive. But you still lack warp engine technology.”

Kyle nodded. “Very true, this is why we had to buy them from you. And why we need to discuss the size of our fleet. We have our first cruiser ready to run, twelve scooters already in use, and our old earth fleet of shuttles available for movement around the inner solar system. With the engines we can afford, we will be able to build a war fleet of twelve cruisers and thirty scooters.”

“Scooters, General?”

“Our small scout type vessels.”

“Ah, an interesting term for them.”

“Just a nickname that caught on I guess.”

“I see. I believe you had concerns at the negotiation about how small your fleet would be. Why are you bringing up these concerns again? If it is to ask for more engines…”

“I need to ask your opinion, not to bargain for more engines,” Kyle interrupted.

Smith looked a little uncomfortable. “General, I am merely a seller of goods and not well versed in military strategy. Plus, that would violate our policy of neutrality.”

“I wouldn’t want that, Mister Smith, I just need you to confirm some technical specifications,” Kyle said, pulling up a design on the projection screen. “As I understand our intelligence, the Iltia’cor have right at eighty four large cruisers and about three hundred and fifty smaller fighting craft. That leaves our twelve outgunned by a large margin. Our advantage is they have brutally subjugated eleven worlds, now that they have taken the Hedali at Kortit. That forces them to tie up a good two dozen or so cruisers and scores of smaller vessels just to keep the peace. With five planets in their own system, they need to leave a home fleet of some size to protect it. At least a dozen or so I figure.”

“I agree with your assessment so far, General, but where are the technical questions in all of this?”

“As I understand it, Mister Smith, you have determined for the size of our cruisers, we will need ten engines to create a warp field big enough to move it, and with our scooters, we will need two engines. Is that correct?”

“Yes, that is correct, General.”

Kyle pulled up a new schematic and looked over at Smith.

“What is that? It is a tiny vessel by mass, but it looks like you have placed twelve engines on it.” Smith stared closely at the schematic. “There are no weapon ports or even a sizable crew compartment on that vessel.”

“That is correct, Mister Smith. We are hoping this design will work as we understand it. If we docked one of our cruisers to this vessel, could the twelve engines create a large enough warp field to move both vessels?”

“I would have to check the math, but I think so. But why create a separate vessel to mount the engines?”

“It’s very simple. If we mount the warp engines to our war vessels, we are stuck with twelve cruisers and thirty scooters to wage war with. If a mosar weapon strikes even one of the engines, we lose the engine and strand our vessel and its crew in whatever system it is in. With this vessel, we can tow our war ships to the system we wish to strike and have them operate with engines based on earth technology. Our sleds, that is the nickname we have given to these new vessels, can then warp out of the system as soon as we undock our war ships. Hopefully they will get out before any shooting starts, but even if they are hit in battle, they will be able to escape with even two engines intact.”

“That is brilliant, General. You can protect your most valuable resource while taking the offensive.”

Kyle tensed and turned a steady gaze at Smith. “My men are our most valuable resource.”

“I’m sorry General, I meant no offense.”

“Just remember that, Mister Smith. These men and women, and the families they fight for, is what this war is all about.”

“I was just impressed at the strategy you have developed.”

“Thank you, but it was the brain child of Williams, not mine. What moved this from a good idea to a great idea was the thought that we could strike multiple targets at once with our full power.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

“The sleds are designed to ferry a single cruiser or five scooters at a time.  But if we were to pre-position, let’s say thirty scooters and six cruisers a half light year from a target system, we could move all vessels in less than three hours with three sleds. Is that correct?”

“That would be five trips per sled, at approximately twenty minutes each. Yes, I would say that would be reasonable. The docking and undocking would take some time, but if you had it go smoothly, that would be about right.”

“So if we have fifteen sleds, we could pull off a simultaneous five system assault, and be done in about twelve hours tops. Right?”

“Well… yes.  But that would require thirty cruisers and one hundred and fifty scooters. And you said you…”

“Could only have a fleet of twelve and thirty if we used your engines on them. We aren’t going to use your engines on them. We are going to use your engines on the sleds.”

Smith gulped heavily. “How many vessels are you looking to build?” he softly asked.

“We have four more docks being finished now. That brings us up to a total of twelve working full time. In six months we are hoping to have eighty eight cruisers and four hundred and fifty scooters,” Kyle said while looking at the screen.

He missed seeing Smith wiping sweat from his brow.

Chapter 13

22 March 2044

Kyle stood on the bridge of the Grant and looked at the crew. The low murmur and hum of activity was in sharp contrast to the intensity of the moment.

The Sophocles and the other two sleds had just dropped two cruisers, the Grant and the Sun Tzu, and five scooters. The next run would bring in the Berlin and ten more scooters. The last trip would bring in fifteen final scooters; all of them set up as giant mobile railguns. Those experimental weapons would have to run and hide after the engagement got underway, but with three massive projectiles each, it was hoped that they would pack a nice punch.

Kyle felt the bump of the Sophocles pulling away and heard the ion engines being brought online.

Captain McKendree stepped into his field of vision. “We are set, General. Looks like both cruisers engines came online as planned, and the scooters are taking up defensive position. In another few minutes we will see if we were noticed by the Iltia’cor.”

The initial insertion of the Earth forces was the most questionable moment in this whole mission. The plan was to warp in far enough out that the Iltia’cor wouldn’t pick up on the power surge and the Earth forces would have time to prepare themselves for the assault.

“Sounds like things are going well, Captain,” Kyle said looking at the data screen to his right.  “How did undocking go?”

“No hitches, sir. Hopefully this will be a smooth operation.”

“Practice makes perfect. But remember what Ike said.”

McKendree smiled as he quoted Eisenhower. “In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.”

“I always preferred ‘Dollars and guns are no substitutes for brains and will power’,” Kyle chuckled.

“I hope our brains are better this day,” McKendree said.

“They are, and we have the planning this day as well,” Kyle stated.

Kyle ran through the day’s operation in his mind. He was with the strike team at Kortit, and if everything was going as planned, there were other cruisers and scooters being put in place at three other worlds.  Two of the worlds, Terti and Fi’cala, were highly strategic, supplying many raw materials and holding manufacturing facilities. Kortit was the Hedali home world, and there were some sentimental reasons for picking it as the third target. The fourth planet, Cyrum, was chosen specifically because it was the least important.

Kyle had decided that he would throw a puzzle at the Iltia’cor. Let them try to figure out why it was chosen.

“Scouts are in position sir, no reports of enemy activity,” a young officer informed McKendree.

“I think I will go take a rest, Captain,” Kyle said as he stepped away from the data station.

“Aye, General, if it gets busy, you’ll know,” McKendree said while scanning the communications screen.

Kyle had never met McKendree before he was given this command, but he liked him instantly. McKendree not only knew the rules and procedures of military command, he also knew when to disregard them and to what level. It is a hard line to walk to be guided by the rules and not controlled by them. Some commanders never learn it and others take it too far and lose the focus of discipline.

Kyle’s resting cabin was two doors from the bridge and had a bed, a toilet and a desk with two data displays. Kyle flopped down on the bed as the door shut and closed his eyes. If Williams was right, the Iltia’cor cruisers would be ripped apart in the initial engagement. The giant railguns would work, he just knew they would.

It had sounded so stupid when Dolsen pitched the idea, but the more they thought about it, the more brilliant it became. The Earth cruisers had been designed from the start to have some powerful railguns, but projectiles of seventy five tons only had so much inertia. Plus, if the enemy had inertial shields, and Smith had hesitated before assuring them that the Iltia’cor did not, the high speed of the railguns might work against the Earth fleet.

But the scooters modified to be a giant railgun? It was such an audacious suggestion, such a primitive answer to a complicated puzzle. And yet, the simplest way to overcome all possible defenses the Iltia’cor might have. By the time they left the meeting, everyone was grinning ear to ear. At 2,000 metric tons per projectile, it would be… incredible. Williams, of course, had summed it up best with his off the cuff comment to the Chancellor.

“It will be like throwing a localized asteroid field at them,” he had said.

Kyle ran through the plan in his head. By the time the Iltia’cor cruisers reached 20,000 kilometers, the fifteen modified scooters would set up in a spray pattern. The fight would start with three volleys of projectiles fired as fast as the crews could manage. The Iltia’cor cruisers were not nimble enough to avoid the pattern completely and any shielding they had would be crushed in the first wave.

The Earth cruisers would then engage the Iltia’cor at close range and it was hoped the enemy cruisers would be destroyed with few human casualties. After that, the scooters would sweep up the remaining smaller Iltia’cor vessels in the system and provide scouting details. Any Iltia’cor bases with significant defenses would be destroyed long range by the cruisers and communication stations would be targeted by the smaller vessels.

Once communication with the Hedali on Kortit was established, they would know they were free from the Iltia’cor domination.

Four planets simultaneously liberated. Kyle hoped that would shake the confidence of this enemy and drive them to the negotiating table. War was too costly on all fronts, despite how necessary it was sometimes.

“General, to the bridge.” McKendree’s voice come through his com unit.

Kyle looked at his watch as he stood and straightened his clothes. He must have dozed a bit while thinking. He stepped quickly to the bridge and sought out the main display. The Berlin was already in position, and the status table told him the third run of the Sleds should be coming out of warp in less than five minutes.

“Trouble?” Kyle asked as he stepped beside McKendree.

McKendree pointed at a small blip on the screen right inside the rings of a gas giant near their drop point.

“We picked it up just a minute ago. It’s a small scout or relay ship we think. I’ve sent a couple of scooters over to investigate.”

Just then the blip darted towards the drop point on the screen and McKendree switched the main view to get a visual check. It was a small Iltia’cor communications relay vessel. It was flying right into the formation of the Earth ships.

“What is it doing?” McKendree asked under his breath.

“It’s trying to get our formation and count so it can report back. We need to take it down,” Kyle replied.

“Number four and number six, fire on bogey,” McKendree ordered his crew.

A sharp pulse coursed through the Grant as two shots from the railguns hurtled towards the trajectory of the small relay ship. Both struck the vessel and ripped it into three parts. Several small explosions and electrical discharges were seen before the vessel started breaking up into small pieces. Kyle nodded at the impressive accuracy of the railguns in real action.

“If they had time, they may have been able to get a message off to the rest of their fleet,” Kyle said. “We need to start moving towards the inner system now and get ready for the engagement.”

“Davidson, put us on battle alert. Helm, coordinate course with the Sun Tzu and Berlin and let’s get moving,” McKendree ordered.

The bridge started humming like a swarm of bees as each member of the crew worked in unison; a well-oiled machine where every cog knew when and where to help turn the gear. A squad of ground pounders worked much the same way, but to watch a ship’s crew in action was a sight that never failed to impress Kyle.

“Sir, we have two Iltia’cor cruisers coming our way,” an Ensign to Kyle’s left said. “It looks like they are going to meet up about 22.4 out, between the fourth Planet and the asteroid belt.”

Kyle checked the long range sensors and looked at the location the Ensign indicated. There were plenty of better locations to set up an attack and bringing both heavy ships into the same zone indicated that they were not expecting a concentrated force to be brought against them. Their smaller vessels were milling about with no structure or formation.

“What do you make of that?” Kyle asked McKendree as he saw the Captain looking at the same screen.

“They are not sure who we are or if we are even a danger,” said McKendree barely above a whisper.

Kyle smiled. This was going better than he hoped. With the Iltia’cor still not responding to them as a threat, he was sure they would be able to take them by surprise.

“Sir, the sleds are coming through,” Davidson informed McKendree.

Kyle started looking for the best place to engage the enemy. If they were to slip behind the gas giant, it would interfere with the sensors of the Iltia’cor and they would have to swing wide to get a good view of the Earth ships. If they pulled them far enough around the planet, it would cut off communication with Kortit.

Kyle pointed at a position on the screen. “There, if we can get there and then turn on the Iltia’cor, we will be able to close with them and engage them while their communications are disrupted.”

McKendree nodded and sent the coordinates to his XO and Helm. “Look good to you, Davidson? Cornwall?”

Both men nodded their approval as they studied the plan.

McKendree pressed a switch on his console. “Sun Tzu, Berlin, we have a target engagement zone, set course for received coordinates, engage ion engines and God speed.”

McKendree looked at Kyle for a second and then said, “Helm, engage engines.”

Kyle did a quick calculation in his head. The engagement zone was a little over 18 million kilometers away. That would take about twelve and a half minutes. Once there, they would turn to engage the Iltia’cor as they rounded the curvature of the gas giant.

Kyle quickly scanned the fire control console on the Grant. Eight railguns were the heavy weapons. Six quad laser arrays would handle any smaller, faster ships or missiles coming within twenty kilometers of the Grant. The Cruiser also had three dozen missiles with miniature ion engines and small fusion warheads. Those were online, but were only to be used if the railguns failed to live up to their promise.

Kyle looked over and saw that McKendree was methodically going through each system. A steady hand at the wheel and a cool head in the battle.

Kyle nodded and smiled. Earth’s best were in charge and he knew today would be successful.

“Sir, approaching Delta point, disengaging engines on your mark,” the young helmsman announced.

“Disengage on three, two, one, mark,” said McKendree. “I need com up ASAP.”

“Com on, sir.”

“This is the Grant, report in.”

“Sun Tzu reporting.”

“Berlin reporting.”

“Alpha Wing reporting.”

“Gold Group reporting.”

“Let’s get these ladies turned around, the music is starting and it’s time to dance,” said McKendree to his fleet.

The sensors were picking up the first Iltia’cor scout vessels as the Earth cruisers started engaging the pulse engines that would move them into battle. Alpha Wing had set up in a screening position about 10,000 kilometers in front of the cruisers. Gold Group, those scooters that were modified to be the giant railguns, took up positions a mere 100 kilometers in front of the large Earth vessels.

Kyle looked at the display and saw all ships were in position.  At 20,000 kilometers away the Iltia’cor scout vessels turned towards the Earth fleet and started accelerating.  Another 50,000 kilometers out, just clearing the interference of the gas giant, were the two enemy cruisers.

“Sir, we are receiving transmissions from one of the Iltia’cor cruisers,” an aging Korean man said from one of the stations behind Kyle.

“Can you translate, Commander Kim?” McKendree asked.

“Kiltao Gor’dal wants identification. He also issues a warning that the Kortit system is sovereign territory of the Iltia’cor.”

Kyle looked back at the communications officer. “Tell them we are from Earth, Commander. No other message.”

Kyle looked back at McKendree who nodded.

“Fleet, forward at sixty percent pulse. Keep in formation. Coordinate fire control through the Grant and prepare for engagement,” McKendree said.

Kyle watched the main display as the Earth fleet moved slowly forward. A full minute passed and Alpha Wing was a mere 8,000 kilometers from the closest Iltia’cor scout vessels.

“Enemy cruisers charging weapons.” Kyle heard as he watched the display pull up a schematic of the two cruisers. Four points on the front of the ships started pulsing, indicating that massive power buildups were taking place.

“Incoming fire.”

“Pull up visual on two,” McKendree barked.

The secondary screen showed eight tight blue beams of energy skate across several of the scooters and the edge of the Grant’s front hull.

“Any damage?” McKendree asked.

“Engineering is reporting no damage.”

Kyle heard McKendree release his breath at the same time he did.

The enemy cruisers were now within 20,000 kilometers and the small Iltia’cor scout vessels were within 2,000 kilometers. The enemy scouts started forming up into small groups and positioning for flanking attacks.

“Gold Group, lock into spray position,” McKendree said. “Alpha Wing, engage enemy scouts. Keep them off Gold and away from the cruisers.”

“Spray position locked, fire control linked, ready sir,” Commander Gutfield announced as his Gold Group slipped into position.

“Fire,” McKendree ordered. “Give them everything.”

The main screen showed some high energy bursts from the fifteen Scooters of Gold Group. Kyle flipped over to the visual screen on his console and waited. At 18,000 kilometers, it would take a good twenty seconds for the massive projectiles to make contact.

The seconds stretched out and then he suddenly saw three small explosions.

“One of their groups flew in front of that shot!” someone on the bridge said.

The sheer mass of the projectile was enough that even after it had impacted three of their scout vessels, it barely changed its trajectory.

“Enemy vessels changing vectors, sir.”

Kyle couldn’t blink as he watched it unfold. Their ships had no chance to turn in time. He saw a flurry of energy weapons firing from the enemy cruisers, and then the rocks hit. He watched in a mix of horror and hope as the Iltia’cor cruisers were ripped to shreds as the giant projectiles found their mark.

Suddenly the visual screens went black.

“What happened to visual?” Kyle demanded

“Automatic override, the cruisers went nova,” a lieutenant near Kyle explained. “When the camera sensors pick up on a light image that will damage the system, it drops dark.”

Kyle looked at the main display. A halo of debris was slowly expanding outward as the remaining Iltia’cor scout vessels flew off in random directions.

Kyle heard the Commander of Alpha Wing call in. “We’re blind out here, sir. Major radiation pulse knocked out all sensors.”

“We lost visuals, Henson, but our other systems are good,” McKendree replied. “We will try to coordinate navigation from here.

“Wait, we are getting data back. Wow, nothing left, huh?”

“Looks that way,” McKendree smiled in relief.

“Should we pursue fleeing vessels, sir?”

McKendree looked at Kyle.

“I think we want word of this to get out, don’t you agree?” Kyle asked McKendree.

McKendree nodded then gave his fleet their orders. “Negative. Head to the planet and see what you can find. Gold Group, great job, made this day a lot easier for the rest of us. Return to the drop point and signal the sleds. Grab some R and R, you deserve it.”

“Berlin, Sun Tzu, we are setting course for Kortit. Engage ion engines on my Helms mark. It should take about 10 hours,” McKendree said into his console.

He looked at Kyle and smiled. Kyle smiled back. They had liberated the Hedali and dealt a stinging defeat to the Iltia’cor.

Chapter 14

30 April 2044

The window was facing Earth as Kyle stared out of it. Franklin Smith had been insistent that he speak with Kyle face to face today and if that meant they met on the Space Station Justice, then that is what he wanted to do.

Kyle was always wary when Smith called one of these impromptu meetings. He didn’t like surprises, especially when he was dealing with a supposedly neutral operative in a war. Today’s surprise was very welcome, though, Kyle had to admit.

“Could you repeat that, Mister Smith?” Kyle asked as he turned his chair away from the window and looked at Smith.

“An anonymous benefactor has purchased sixty warp engines for Earth to use as they wish,” Smith said as he smiled at Kyle. He was greatly enjoying the surprise and disbelief that played out across the face of the normally unshakable Marine General.

“No requirements or favors that we owe someone?” Kyle said still trying to process the information.

“None that I am aware of, General. It seems that there are others who appreciate what you are doing to the Iltia’cor.”

Kyle wondered about that. Who could it be? One of the recent liberated planets?

The Pelod homeworld, Terti, was one of the first planets liberated from the Iltia’cor. Its manufacturing facilities had immediately started producing defensive structures to prevent their newly found freedom from being taken again. As happy as they were, they didn’t seem the type to give away such an abundance of resources, especially when they could put them to good use themselves.

Fi’cala was a world of vast mineral resources, and while the Calarians were small in number, and widely dispersed through the galaxy, they were most happy to share some new ore processing methods with their liberators. However considerable their wealth was, it was not in the type of cash or trade that would buy engines this quickly, so they were unlikely to be the anonymous admirer.

The liberation of Cyrum was met with almost hostile disbelief. Earth negotiators are still actively working to help the people of Cyrum form their own statement of independence. No, they were not in the right frame of mind or level of wealth to provide sixty engines to Earth.

Kortit was the most joyous of the liberated planets. Their oppression was less than a year old, and they were quite happy to throw off the shackles that still chaffed and reminded them of their life before their captivity. But even they would not have gone so far as to have provided Earth with tools to fight the Iltia’cor. For one thing, they blamed Earth for their conquest, along with one of their own.

Kyle smiled a bit as he thought of Lon. Publically tortured almost daily since the Iltia’cor conquered his planet, Lon was still steadfast in his belief he had done the right thing. Kyle had persuaded him to come back to Earth for medical treatment and some rest. He was in a medical facility in Phoenix at the moment, and the latest report said he would fully recover from all of his injuries.

“General Martin?” Smith repeated.

Kyle refocused on the moment and looked at Smith. “I’m sorry, my mind drifted there.”

“I could tell. I had asked you where you would like the engines delivered.”

“Let’s put them at the Ellison Yards,” Kyle said looking at his tablet.

“Around Jupiter?” Smith confirmed.

“Yes. When will we get them?”

“The first order should be arriving in about ten days, General.”

Kyle stood and reached his hand across the desk. “Thank you Mister Smith”

Smith stood and shook Kyle’s hand with a smile “You are welcome, General Martin.  Would you care to join me for lunch today? I found that your cafeteria on this station makes a respectable enchilada.”

“Thank you, Mister Smith, but I can’t today. I have another meeting to get to. But maybe the next time you are on the station.”

“That sounds good, General. Good day to you,” said Smith as he turned and left Kyle’s office.

Kyle allowed himself a big grin and a few moments of celebration before he carefully put on his calm exterior and headed to his next meeting. Sixty new engines was a great boost to the power and flexibility of the Earth forces. He had received early reports of Bisir and Airido being liberated just a half hour before. Six planets liberated and one in process. Within an hour they should hear what happened at Do’yar’on.

Kyle felt a little skip in his step. The first four planets had been liberated without the loss of a single human. The Iltia’cor were taken completely by surprise by the coordinated assaults and the strategy of using the modified scooters as giant railguns was so effective that three of the twelve Earth cruisers involved never fired their weapons during the operation.

The second wave of attacks had thus far been almost as successful. According to the preliminary reports from Bisir and Airido, the Iltia’cor had brought in much larger fleets to protect those systems. And yet, even with a fight on their hands, his commanders reported only having lost two scooters; one to a rogue asteroid and the other to enemy fire.

With the confirmed cruisers in the first wave, and the early reports from the second wave, Kyle had calculated that the Iltia’cor had lost a total of twenty three cruisers from their fleet. The Iltia’cor seemed to be back on their heels and reeling from the Earth strategy, and todays losses would only add to that downward spiral.

Yes, this was turning out to be one of the best days since they met the Hedali.

The door to the conference room opened and Kyle stepped in. Immediately he sensed the dark mood in the room and the foreboding sense that something terrible had happened. The other nine members of the meeting met him with silent looks and a few had red-rimmed eyes.

“Sir,” Alex stood as Kyle came in. “We just received news from the Pentagon. Admiral Rider was found dead at his desk this morning.”

Kyle reached for a chair for support and slowly lowered himself until he was sitting.

“What happened?” Kyle asked.

“The EMTs told Kitch it was a stroke. She is pretty shaken up, sir,” Alex said.

That would be an understatement, thought Kyle. Admiral John Rider had picked her to be his attaché when he was promoted to Chairman of the Joint Chiefs in the Indian War. When her air wing commander complained and said she was the best warthog pilot he had, Admiral Rider had loudly and forcefully replied that she was the best logistics and resource officer the military had and he needed her for his office. He took her under his wing and was like a second father to her. He knew that she had stayed in close contact with him even after his retirement.

After Admiral Rider retired, she asked to be assigned to Special Operations under Kyle as a service pilot and logistics officer. Kyle felt honored that she wanted to work for his command, especially after Hyderabad had tarnished his name. But she had seen all of the evidence and had understood, like Admiral Rider had, that the right call was made. Kyle couldn’t think of Admiral Rider without thinking of Kitch, nor could he think of Kitch without thinking of Admiral Rider. He would call her later and offer his condolences and offer to help in any way he could.

“Are you ok, sir? Do we need to postpone the meeting?” Williams asked quietly while placing a cup of coffee in front of Kyle.

“No. Thanks Carl, I’ll be fine.” Kyle picked up the cup of coffee, just to do something more than sit there and stare.

“Sir, I don’t think everybody in this room knows that Admiral Rider pinned your wings on. Isn’t that true?” Alex asked.

Kyle cleared his throat and gave a tight smile to Alex.

“Yes, he was a Naval Captain and I was a lowly Marine Lieutenant when I finished flight school. He pinned my wings on. He also gave me my first Command, promoted me to Special Operations Command for the Marine Corps and then later Special Operations Command for the Indian Theater.”

Kyle swallowed a drink of coffee and pushed aside the sadness that was overtaking him. “He sent a plane to bring me back to the States when my wife died. He took my daughter into his home for two weeks after the funeral when I had to get back to the war and the arrangements for my parents to take care of her were delayed. The old man and I had a long history, and I will miss him greatly.”

Kyle took another sip of coffee and stood up. “Let’s focus on the task at hand, people. I will try to make it a short day if no one has any objections.”

Everyone nodded as Kyle walked to the head of the table. “I have just come from a meeting where Mister Smith has informed me that an unknown benefactor has donated sixty new warp engines to our supplies.”

The normally professional team erupted in a cacophony of questions and shocked sentiments. Kyle raised his hand and everyone started quieting down.

“The answer is: I don’t know,” Kyle said slowly. “There is no one that I can think of that would have the resources and the motive to give us this kind of gift. I suggest we take it and put it to good use.”

“Could the engines be booby-trapped or set to self-destruct or something like that?” asked Williams.

“Good questions, and why you need to get out to Ellison and inspect them next week,” Kyle responded. “It will take a little time to figure out what to do with the extra engines, but I know we will find good use for them.”

Kyle flipped on the main data screen. “We have received reports from the Grant and the Walesa that Bisir and Airido are being liberated. The Iltia’cor had placed eight cruisers in each system, so I can assure you that they are going to heavily reinforce the rest of their systems. We were able to hit four systems quickly, and now another three. This leaves them with four held planets and their home. We are still trying to get some good intelligence on how their defenses are set up in the Iltia system.”

Just then the door opened and Captain Anderson stuck his head in the room. “Sir, we are getting a transmission from Do’yar’on. Should be uploaded in just a few seconds,” he said.

“Thanks Anderson,” Williams responded as the young communications technician left and closed the door. “Let’s see what Jennings has to say.”

Kyle nodded and flipped on the main console. A few seconds later, Captain Burke’s image appeared on the screen.

Something was wrong, and Kyle felt the ripple of anxiety from the men and women sitting behind him. Jennings was the Fleet Captain and should have been making this report.

“Sir, reporting in from the Do’yar’on system. We regret to report that both the Belisarius and the DeGaul were destroyed in action. We also believe that we lost five scooters and two sleds in the engagement, sir.” Captain Burke’s face was tense as he spilled out the details of Earth’s losses. “Due to the circumstances, we believe all hands were lost. Colonel Jackson, the pilot of the Hemingway, has eyewitness details.”

The briefing room was dead silent as the screen flickered and Colonel “Cowboy” Jackson appeared on the screen.

“We had just entered the Do’yar’on system and initiated the undocking of the DeGaul when we picked up a signal of a ship about 100,000 kilometers out. No one recognized the other vessel, but it was already powering up… something. The readings were off the charts. Captain Jennings told us to detach and go get reinforcements as soon as possible. All three sleds hit their warp engines within a second or two of each other. My ride was the furthest out from the enemy vessel, and I believe that we survived only by a few kilometers.”

Cowboy took a drink of water before he continued. “Just as we went into warp, the gravitational fields around the Hemingway went crazy. Our warp field collapsed once, but Sheely got it back up and stable.”

Kyle stole a quick look around the room and saw the same looks of bewilderment as he was feeling.

“We estimate that the field was produced about 20,000 kilometers from the port side of the Belisarius and exerted a gravitational force of six times ten to the eighth meters per second squared.”

Williams whistled low at that.

“The energy lasted about five seconds from our readings. When we reached the rendezvous point, we discovered we had lost four engines and the superstructure of the Hemingway had been twisted. All of our systems were damaged, but operational.”

The screen flickered again and Captain Burke replaced Cowboy.

“We analyzed the data from the Hemingway and from what we can put together out here, the Iltia’cor have a gravitational weapon. They used it before we could react and it completely destroyed our ships. It was only chance that allowed the Hemingway to make it safely away. We are abandoning this operation and are returning to Earth for debrief as soon as possible. All technical data will be attached to this transmission. Burke out.”

The screen went black.

Kyle looked back at the men and women sitting around the conference table. No one spoke as they started skimming the data that Burke had sent.

“Williams, when he mentioned the gravitational force of the field, you understood what that meant. Explain what happened,” Kyle said.

“A singularity. They can create a singularity,” Williams said.

“No way, not a singularity, the gravitational forces were nowhere close to that,” countered Sergeant Ranke.

Kyle looked at Ranke and then back at Williams. “Is he right?”

“Technically, but it is essentially what they did. The forces aren’t near what we would expect for a real black hole, but for our purposes, it’s close enough,” Williams said.

He stood up and walked over to the coffee machine and took a foam cup from the dispenser. “What I mean is this. If I were to get an elephant to step on this cup, it would be flat.” Williams put the cup on the floor and stepped on it. He held it up. “Now I’m not an elephant, but that doesn’t matter to the cup.  It’s flat. What they made wasn’t to the scale of a black hole, but it was enough to rip our ships apart.”

“How is that possible?” Kyle asked.

“I don’t have the slightest idea, sir. If you made me come up with an idea right now…” Williams just shrugged.

Kyle nodded and stood up.

“We will find out what happened. Specifically, how this occurred and what steps we will take to overcome this problem. We have the observational data available. I want us to be oriented to this new challenge in 48 hours. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir,” came the chorus of agreement. No strained voices, no weak responses. They had a job to do and it was going to get done.

“In the meantime, all operations are suspended. I want Jackson and the rest of the crew of the Hemingway brought in and thoroughly debriefed as soon as physically possible. We can’t miss anything, not a single clue. Dismissed.”

This turned out to be one of the worst days since they met the Hedali.

Chapter 15

14 May 2044

Kyle was in a very irritated mood when he walked into Williams’ office.

“Sir, thanks for meeting in here,” said Williams as he closed the door behind him.

“Just had a meeting with Mister Smith. Seems the Pelod are at as much a loss to explain the new toy of the Iltia’cor as anyone else,” Kyle said throwing himself on the small sofa.

“Think they are lying?” asked Williams as he poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Kyle.

“I don’t think it’s their style to outright lie. I could be wrong, but I don’t think so.”

“I have some news, sir, but I don’t think you will like it. I know I sure didn’t,” Williams said as he sat at his desk.

“About the weapon?”

“Yes sir. Seems that I found out who has been looking at gravitational weapons technology. The Hedali.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Yes sir. Talked to some of their engineers and it’s something they were working on for a while. They really didn’t understand the concept that it could be used as a weapon like this. They were developing it to assist in their mining and engineering development, but yes, they were pretty far along when the Iltia’cor invaded.”

Kyle shook his head and stared into his coffee.

“It gets worse, sir. Seems that a few Hedali were granted access to some of our computer systems. It was to help with our engine redesigns, but someone in that facility accessed our logistics system without authorization.”

Kyle stood up and walked across the room to look out of the window. “If you are saying that one of the Hedali let the Iltia’cor know where we were going to strike, you had better be absolutely sure.”

“More than sure, sir. We know exactly who it was. He sent them the coordinates of our drop point and the time we would start the operation.”

“Do we have him in custody?”

“Ramirez thought it would be better not to let him know that we are aware of his activities,” Williams said

“Counter-intel?”

“Yes sir, we have an idea, and if it works, it will take care of their new toy.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“The Geneva,” Williams said.

“The Geneva?  What about it? They just started dismantling it.” Kyle was clearly confused.

“I know, and it’s the perfect choice.” Williams smiled a smug little smile and waited for Kyle.

“I’ll bite. Why is the Geneva the perfect choice?” Kyle asked. He was not in the mood to play these games.

“Two of the central support spars have cracks in them. If we tried to put the craft in service, there would be no knowing when the central gravity system would collapse the damaged spars.  And what would that do, sir?” Williams asked.

“It would cause an internal collapse and the ship would implode,” Kyle responded. He saw an idea forming at the edge of his mind.

“What if instead of a central gravity system there was a very strong sudden external gravitational force?” Williams was on his feet now and starting to speak quicker.

“It would fall apart, like a pile of sticks!” said Kyle, joining Williams in standing.

“So we load up a lot of debris, like say forty or fifty high energy fusion bombs…” Williams said, spreading his hands.

“And their weapon pulls in a bunch of explosives set to detonate at a certain time.” Kyle was grinning.

“Yes. Actually we set gravitational triggers on them so they explode in sequence. Each one sets the next off, we figure the force of the explosion and the pull of their singularity should send the last several into a semi-stable orbit around the central gravitation point long enough to detonate on the other side.” Williams was grinning as well.

“What are the chances this could work?” Kyle asked.

“Depends on if they scan the Geneva before they activate their weapon. If they do, we will be handing them a good look at our cruiser design and several dozen fusions bombs. If they don’t, I would say we have a fifty-fifty shot at getting them.”

“We set the first bomb to have a time delay to detonate five minutes after we drop it off. If they scan and don’t activate their weapon, they may pull up to the Geneva and the delayed bombs might get them. If they don’t, we destroy any use they may get out of our ruse.”

“Excellent. Do you want me to move forward with the operation?” Williams asked as he sat back down.

“Yes, tell them to stop scrapping the Geneva and secure the rest of the materials needed. Ranke’s idea?” Kyle asked.

Williams nodded.

Kyle grunted. “I thought it sounded like something he would come up with.”

“He knows booby-traps better than anyone. I was going to put him as lead engineer on this.”

“That should keep him happy and busy,” Kyle said. “Good job, Carl. Let me know if you need to cut through any red tape, I want this as top priority.”

Kyle walked over and poured another cup of coffee. “Now how are we going to pull them in?”

“We only have a few systems left, so we pick one and go for it. We can put in that we are sending eight cruisers and twenty scooters in the first wave, make them think they can nab twelve of our sleds at one blow. That should get their attention,” Williams said.

“Sounds like a plan. Call Kitch, have her look over the proposal.” Kyle’s com unit began beeping.

“Martin. Go,” he said.

“Sir, Commander Salazar has a report about the Otina Strike Force. Can you talk to him now?” Kyle’s secretary asked.

“Let me get back to the office, Karen. I’m just down the hall,” Kyle said as he switched his unit off.  “Keep me in the loop, Carl, but sounds like we have a great idea.”

Kyle quickly walked down the hall to his office. Too many windows for his taste, but he was able to keep the decorations austere.

“General, Commander Salazar is on line two, full video,” Karen Crane said as Kyle hurried past her station.

“Thank you Karen, call Sara and let her know I will be home by six tonight if she still wants to grill steaks,” Kyle said as he closed the door to his office. His daughter was living at home again and he was thrilled to have her around the house.

Kyle sat in his chair and adjusted his video screen. He hit line two and the image of Commander Ramon Salazar popped up. “Ramon, good to see you, I guess you have something?”

“Yes sir, we took an Otina messenger ship warping in around Jupiter yesterday. Caught them with their engines cold and boarded after a short chase. They injured two of ours and we had to put four of them down, but we captured six. We found navigational co-ordinates for three bases in the asteroid belt once we got into their systems. Long range scans confirm the presence of high energy at those sites,” Salazar said with a smile.

“Outstanding Commander! Excellent,” Kyle said. The Otina were an ongoing problem. While the war against the Iltia’cor was going well, it felt like a yapping dog was always nipping at his heels whenever Kyle got a new report of an Otina raid.

“Thank you, sir. Preliminary reports estimate that there are between two and three hundred Otina at each site, and they have a few heavy weapons in hardened positions. I would like to request more men before seriously considering assaulting their bases,” Salazar said.

“I’ll pass it by General Kitch and make sure that she approves, but I don’t think it will be a problem,” Kyle answered.

“General Kitch?” Salazar looked pleasantly surprised.

Kyle laughed. “I forgot you were out. Rider put her in for the star the day before he passed away. Things move fast in wartime, I guess. The Earth Council and the Pentagon approved it two days ago, and she pinned it on yesterday.”

“Have they made a decision on who will be the Supreme Commander?”

Kyle shifted uncomfortably. The U.S., China and Russia all supported him taking Rider’s position, but France and India were firmly set against it. “Not yet, Ramon, but they have a few more days to decide.”

Turning to his tablet, Kyle opened up the folder marked ‘Otina Strike Force’.

“Looks like you have eighty-six personnel and three scooters. I’m going to assign the Berlin and two more scooters to you. Those will be modified troop transports. I’m thinking the Orinoco and the Nile. I would also like you to take an extra sixty ground pounders. Kiskaliski will be your first when dealing with the ground assaults.”

Salazar nodded “That’s what I would have recommended. The Berlin can be used to take out the hardened heavy weapons from a distance. We will be glad to have her.”

“Any other equipment or personnel you think you might need?”

“Wouldn’t hurt to have a med team, we haven’t needed one yet, but with ground assaults in the planning, wouldn’t mind having a Nightingale,” Salazar requested.

“Let’s see if I have a Nightingale for you.” Kyle searched his listings for a scooter that had been equipped as a mobile medical station. “The Danube can probably be reassigned; I’ll clear that with McKendree.”

“Thank you sir, I think that would be everything we need.”

“I’ll send it all up to Kitch and she can break down the details. But if we can get the Otina off our backs, that will be a great relief,” Kyle said.

“Yes sir, we will drive them out of the system.” Salazar smiled broadly. “Salazar out.”

The screen went black and Kyle slumped in his chair for a minute. He was thinking of his conversation with Williams and something was bothering him.

He pressed the intercom button on his desk phone. “Karen, could you get Sergeant Major Williams on the line?”

“Of course, sir.”

A few seconds later, Kyle saw line one light up and hit the button to pick up. “Carl, do you have a second?”

“Absolutely, sir. What do you need?” Williams asked.

“When we take the Geneva in, what will happen to the sled that drops her off?”

There was a long awkward silence. “I’m not sure, sir. From the data we got from the Hemingway, it’s lucky she wasn’t torn to pieces. I had thought that maybe we could automate the drop, but we would lose a sled, and I sure don’t want to do that.”

Kyle thought for a few seconds. “How many men are absolutely needed to fly a sled in and bring it back out?”

“Well, let’s see. You need a pilot, you need a navigator and you need at least five technicians to release the clamps. That is… unless you wanted to release them one at a time. That would surely get the crew killed, though. So, I would say seven bare minimum,” Williams replied.

“Can we blow the clamps?” Kyle asked.

“Maybe. If we set the explosives before we warped in, that would work, but I will have to check with Ranke to see if charges set that way would be stable enough in a warp field.”

“Get with him and see if it is possible. I want as few men as possible at risk on this assignment. If we have to repair a sled afterwards, that’s a small price to pay.”

“Yes sir. Anything else?”

“No, that’s it for now. I’ll let you get back to it,” Kyle said as he hung up.

If the Iltia’cor’s new weapon was destroyed, it might be enough of a shock to send them to the negotiating table. They have already lost six of the eleven planets they had once controlled outside the Iltia system. Another major defeat might be painful enough that they wouldn’t want to lose any more.

Kyle hoped and prayed that would be the result.

Now which system to pick for the trap? The Do’yar’on system was out of the question, they might sense a trap and not show up. That left…

Kyle snapped his fingers. Helku was a binary star system with three asteroid belts and a lot of radiation. When they examined the system, it was so complicated that it was put on the back burner. The system itself was poor on resources and the population of Heltani was under four million. And it was a mere fifteen light-years from the Iltia system.

If they could indicate that it would be secured as a staging area for an invasion of Iltia itself, it might provide extra incentive for the Iltia’cor to send their weapon.

He felt like things were finally clicking into place. They had the means of taking the gravitational weapon out and he now had the location where it would happen. They could figure out how to plant the information so that the Iltia’cor received it in the correct way. Now he just had to assign the men who would undertake this dangerous mission.

He needed a pilot, an engineer and someone who could navigate the sled. And he needed to know he could trust them with the highest level of secrecy.

He picked up his phone and punched in a number.

“This is Ramirez,” said Alex after a single ring.

“Alex, you certified as a navigator on the sleds, right?” Kyle asked. “How would you like to take a trip with Williams and me?”

“What trip?” asked Alex.

Chapter 16

27 June 2044

“It’s all set,” Sergeant Ranke said over the com channel. “That’s as stable as I can make them and still make sure they blow when you hit the switch.”

The Ellison Station dry-dock was in orbit around Jupiter. It was from there that this operation would launch. The Fitzgerald Warp-Field Tug, more commonly referred to as a sled, would tow the Geneva into the Helku system. There the Iltia’cor would be waiting with their gravitational weapon. Once the Iltia’cor activated their weapon, the Geneva would break apart and it’s payload of fusion bombs would destroy the enemy weapon. If all went as planned.

The Helku system was 127 light-years away from Earth. Kyle still needed a calculator to figure out how long the warp engines would take to get there, but for the last three weeks, he had checked the figures every few hours it seemed. It was three days, twelve hours and forty minutes, no matter how many times he checked. That’s how long they would be in a stable warp field with enough explosive power to destroy a small moon. That thought did not calm Kyle’s nerves.

Alex fidgeted beside him. “Are you sure we can’t automate this thing?”

The Fitzgerald hung there waiting for an answer. “No,” said Kyle “We can’t afford to lose a sled, not when we can bring it home again.”

“Just thought I would ask in case no one considered it,” Alex sighed wistfully. “I guess I’ve been through worse things than being stuck with the two of you for three straight days.”

Alex turned and walked away from the observation deck.

“What do you think, Carl?” Kyle asked

“I trust Ranke. If he says the charges are stable, they are stable. Everything will go fine, sir. Like Ramirez said, the hardest part will be living with you two,” Williams said. His voice sounded as light as his words, but his eyes carried the heaviness of worry and concern.

Kyle looked up at the chains holding the massive structure. From a distance, it looked like a fragile vessel, so easily snapped or broken. But when you were here, just a few hundred feet away from it, the size was over whelming. At over 400 meters high and close to 2200 meters long, it dwarfed any ship that Earth had ever put on her oceans.

The crew of the Fitzgerald was normally twenty four, so there would be plenty of space and supplies, although Kyle assumed they would probably stay on the bridge for most of the voyage. After they dropped the Geneva off, they would rendezvous with another sled and be relieved of command.

“I have never been more anxious to be done and over with a mission as I am right now,” Alex said.

Kyle turned and saw Alex had walked back out onto the observation deck.

“We have twenty minutes until the Geneva gets in position. I guess we need to board the Fitzgerald,” said Alex as he motioned back to the briefing room.

Kyle and Williams took one last look at the Fitzgerald before turning and walking back into the room.  A few seconds later, the alarms in the dock area started ringing. Yellow lights started flashing, letting anyone in the area around the ship know that they were going to decompress in ten minutes.

At the two minute mark Kyle, Alex and Williams started walking across the sealed causeway to the bridge of the Fitzgerald. Just seconds after they secured their hatch, the lights in the dock area turned red and the huge vents started slowing sucking the precious air into the compression tanks. Kyle and his team had already started all systems and were settling into their seats on the bridge when the large doors below them began to open and the vacuum of space finished the decompression.

“We are clear to drop, sir,” said Williams as he set the system to release from the dock.

“Fitzgerald to Ellison, permission to undock,” Kyle said.

“This is Ellison, you have clearance. Good luck crew of the Fitzgerald,” replied the Dockmaster.

Kyle nodded and Williams released the clamps that secured the sled to the dock. Kyle fired the top side thrusters at 10% until they were clear of the station’s rotation, and then pointed the ship towards the pickup location.

“Looks like the Chaucer is right on schedule,” Kyle said as their sensors picked up the other Sled slowing into the drop zone.

“Fitzgerald, she is all yours.  Let me unlock this hot potato and you can take her and shove her down the throat of those SOBs,” Colonel “Cowboy” Jackson said.

“Thanks Cowboy. We will take good care of her.”

“Still wish you had let me fly the mission, sir. Feel I owe it to Nestor, Jennings and Donovan,” Cowboy said.

Kyle looked over at Williams. Alex had read the casualty list, but he knew that Williams sometimes skipped it. He didn’t blame him; sometimes you don’t want to see a friend’s name on the list.

“We will make sure the Iltia’cor pay the full butcher’s bill, Cowboy,” Kyle replied.

“Thank you sir, and good luck.”

“Donovan was at Do’yar’on?” Williams asked rhetorically. “I wasn’t aware. I knew Jennings had command of the DeGaul and Nestor was XO of the Belisarius. But I didn’t know about Neal.”

Kyle watched his sensors until he saw that the Chaucer was clear of the approach path. “Starting thrusters forward, matching vectors for the Geneva.”

A few minutes later they watched the visuals from the structural cameras as the Geneva locked into place on the five clamp assemblies. Just centimeters separated the powerful explosives and the locking mechanism. One cracked part and Jupiter would have a new orbiting debris field as the Geneva, the Fitzgerald and even the Ellison Space Station would be destroyed from the chain reaction of the fusion bombs held in the Geneva’s superstructure.

“All clamps secure, sir. We are set for go,” Williams said.

Kyle exhaled heavily and smiled at his crew. “Ellison, you can unpucker. We have the hot potato secured and have our course laid in.”

“Good news, Fitzgerald. We’ll see you in a week.”

Kyle turned to Alex. “Sergeant Ramirez, you can initiate warp field along our plotted course.”

“Yes sir,” said Alex as he keyed in the activation code. “We are away.”

The ship felt like it rippled and then all sound became slightly muted. Kyle had never been on a submarine before, but he imagined that it felt a lot like traveling on a ship in a warp field.

“Three and a half days to live and I am stuck with you guys,” Alex said as the ship hurtled through the cosmos at speeds that defied physics. Alex was always one of the first to become fatalistic on a mission, but he always had an edge of humor to keep it from turning dark.

“Deal with it,” said Williams. “And my last meal was some leftover barbeque and baked beans that I had brought in from Earth.”

Alex groaned and laughed. “Sir, I’m getting the bunk as far from his as possible,” Alex said to Kyle.

“This isn’t your dad’s car, you can’t just call it,” responded Kyle. “I’m the only officer here, so you two will have to pick bunks after me.”

The banter continued for a while, but soon all three men had pulled out things to read. Kyle and Alex were reading on their tablets while Williams had a beat up paperback. Agatha Christie from what Kyle could make out.

“Hey, I have a question,” said Alex. “All of these sleds are named after great writers, right?”

“Yes,” answered Williams, not looking up from his book. “That is the naming convention. Cruisers after generals and cities, sleds after authors, and scooters after rivers and waterways.”

Alex sat perplexed for a minute. “I looked her up, and I can’t find anything she wrote.”

Williams let his book drop below his eyes and Kyle looked over at Alex. “Who?” said both men at the same time.

“Ella Fitzgerald. My dad had all of her music, and she was great, but I can’t figure out why they named a sled after her.”

Kyle busted up laughing and Williams dropped his head.

“F. Scott Fitzgerald,” Williams said slowly. “The sled is named after F. Scott Fitzgerald, not Ella Fitzgerald.”

“Oh,” said Alex “I guess he was a pretty good writer?”

“Look up ‘The Great Gatsby’ under literary classics,” Kyle said. He thought he could hear Williams softly crying.

A few minutes later, Williams put down his book and looked at Alex. It was clear there was something he wanted to say, but he was struggling with it.

“Carl, everything alright?” Kyle asked.

“Sir, would it be inappropriate if I asked a personal question?” Williams asked with obvious concern.

“To me?” asked Alex “You can ask, but I may not answer.”

“Do you need some privacy? If you want I can go to the galley,” Kyle offered.

Williams ignored his suggestion. “I was just curious as to what happened. Why you got thrown into Leavenworth. I know you put Senator Hovey in a coma, but I never really figured out what happened.”

Kyle sighed and went back to reading. He knew every aspect of this story and he was just going to let Alex tell what he wanted.

Alex sat up straight and looked at Williams, weighing the moment and taking his time before answering.

“My father was Victor Ramirez, you know that right?” Alex asked.

Williams nodded and settled back in his seat.

“He was a Marine General for seventeen years. He was submitted to the Senate at the age of 39 and they awarded him the star two days after his 40th birthday. He was the youngest Brigadier General in a generation, and deserving of it. By the time the Indian war started he was a Lieutenant General and was immediately sent to the front lines. He ran the most efficient and clean operation, and for that they made him a four star and he was given Command of the whole operation.”

Alex paused, clearly proud of his father.

“Then one day, as he was flying out of Mumbai, someone hit his chopper with a mobile SAM. Huge loss for the U.S. forces. Commander of Indian Operations and three other General staff were on that bird.  Fourteen people in all, none of them survived the crash. I was on an operation that day and didn’t hear about it for 48 hours.”

Williams nodded as Alex grabbed a bottle of water from his pack and took a swig.

“Three days later I was told to get on a jet. They were taking me to Washington for a few days. A set of my dress blues had been prepared by my sister and my mother would be waiting for me at the airport. My father would have his funeral at the National Cathedral and then he would be interred at Arlington. Afterwards, there would be a joint session of Congress where they were going to honor my father and present my mother with his Congressional Gold Medal. When that was over, I would board another plane and be back in the action.”

“Didn’t go as planned, huh?” Williams asked.

“No. When we got to Congress after the burial, several congressmen and senators spoke about the award. My father had never been an overly political man, and frankly, I don’t even vote except in the Presidential elections. So I had no idea who these men were, how well they knew my father, or what their politics reflected. Most were gushing in their praise; some were so vague in their accolades that you could tell they didn’t know him at all.”

Alex took another long drink of water before continuing.

“But then Senator Hovey got up. He was the next to the last speaker of the day. He stood there face to face with my Mother and said “If you live by the sword, you should die by the sword.” He said my father was a killer who should have been tried and executed for killing so many people. He said a painful, fiery death was what he deserved.”

Kyle thought that Williams had surely seen the speech on the news when it happened; it was played constantly as part of the story of what happened that day.

“So, why did you do it?” Williams asked.

“I honestly couldn’t tell you. He dishonored my father, and that really made me mad. But I think it was the fact that he insulted my mother that pushed it over the top. She was in tears as he finished speaking, and as she stood there with the medal in her hands when they presented her with it, she could barely get out the words “Thank you.” When I saw him in the rotunda afterwards, I just snapped. I made my way over to him and instead of exchanging a few insulting, pithy words, I tried to punch his head off. He dropped like a bag of sand, and without thought, I was on him with my hands around his neck.”

Williams shook his head slowly.

“His two aides and one of his personal security guys tried to get me off. I broke one of his aides’ arms and smashed up the face of the bodyguard. Three Capitol policemen finally got me off the Senator and tazered me until I blacked out.”

“What did your family say?”

Alex laughed. “Emily was pissed. She said that Dad would have kicked my butt for a stunt like that. My Mom made me a bunch of my favorite sandwiches and just smiled when she came to visit me in holding.”

“And Hovey pressed all charges,” Williams said.

“Actually, no. He was in a coma until after I had already been processed. The military took jurisdiction and the DA was happy to let them have me. I got fifty years for assault and battery, assault with intent to cause grievous bodily harm, and resisting arrest. They likely could have got attempted murder if they wanted. If those guys had been a bit slower in pulling me off of him, I would probably be in a civilian prison serving out a murder two sentence.”

Williams leaned forward and looked at Alex. “Hovey is an ass.” He picked up his book and began reading again.

Alex’s jaw dropped open as if he were going to say something, then he smiled, looked at Kyle and shrugged. Kyle shrugged back and went back to his book.

The next several days, the men stayed mostly quiet. The weight of what they were attempting to do weighed on each of them, and room for frivolity and earnest, somber discussions was pushed aside to make room for intensity.

“Mark one minute until dropping out of warp. When I kill the warp field engines, you need to start getting the ion engines heating up in that moment. We can’t reset the warp engines until the ion engines are at full capacity,” Alex reminded Kyle.

“We will wait for your mark. Carl, blow the clamps at mark plus one,” Kyle reminded Williams.

“Yes, sir,” Williams said. “Sensor recording live as of now, let’s get some good data for the folks back home.”

“Mark ten seconds,” started Alex “Nine… eight… seven…”

The seconds seemed to take forever.

“two… one… Mark!”

The warp engines dropped the field and Kyle punched the button to start the ion engines. He looked up at the long range sensors and spotted a very large ship a mere 60,000 kilometers away.

“They took the bait,” he thought as he felt the sled shudder from the explosives sheering off the clamps. He hoped all five sets of charges had completely detached the Geneva.

“Ion engines online,” said Kyle as the control button on his console shifted to green.

“Geneva is clear of the clamps,” Williams said.

Kyle fired the top side thrusters to push away from the doomed cruiser.

“Waiting for warp engines to go online,” Alex said. The strain in his voice was evident.

“Enemy has fired a weapon, they had it charged up it looks like,” Williams said.

“Clear of the Geneva, go when ready Alex,” said Kyle just as the Fitzgerald jerked hard.

“Warp on,” said Alex at the same moment.

The ship lurched and recoiled several times as the warp field kept collapsing. An explosion violently shook the vessel.

“Engines four, six and twelve have blown!” shouted Williams over the noise.

Kyle looked at the sensors as he held onto the armrests of his chair. The Geneva had been completely ripped apart and the debris field was quickly moving towards the enemy ship. Just then a huge explosion filled the sensor screen and Kyle and Williams were knocked from their chairs.

“I can’t keep the warp field stable!” shouted Alex.

Kyle pulled himself up to look at the console. The external sensors were absolutely dead and the lights on the bridge flickered ominously. Kyle realized at that moment that the shaking and jerking of the ship had stopped. He looked over at Williams who was on one knee looking at his screen.

“Life support is stable, but we have multiple hull breaches. Ion drives are down, but the capacitors are still charged.”

“We have warp field stabilizing,” Alex sighed as he sat back from the console. “We made it. We are going to get to the rendezvous.”

Williams swooned back into his seat. “Thank you, God. Engines one and ten held. All the others are toast.”

Kyle sat back in his seat. Two engines were what they needed to generate a warp field large enough to move the sled. Two engines.

Chapter 17

5 July 2044

Kyle was napping when the intercom woke him.

“General Martin, are you available for a visitor?” asked the nurse on duty outside of his room.

“Who is it?” Kyle asked groggily.

“A Mister Franklin Smith, he says you will want to see him.”

“Yes, send him in,” said Kyle as he sat up on his bed. Alex, Williams and he were on day four of a five day stay in the anti-radiation ward of the Mayo clinic. None had shown signs of radiation sickness, and their levels were fine when they boarded the Shakespeare, but precautions had to be taken due to the levels of radiation that the Fitzgerald had been exposed to. The radiation levels on the heavily damaged sled were so high that it was left sitting in deep space about half a light year from Helku after the mission.

Kyle was wrapping his robe around himself and walking to the small sitting area in his room when he heard the door open. Smith walked in and closed the door.

“General Martin, so glad to see you again,” Smith said with a smile.

“Good to see you as well, Mister Smith. Please have a seat,” Kyle said motioning to a comfortable easy chair.

Smith crossed the room and sat in the indicated chair as Kyle sprawled out on the love seat under the windows.

“They tell me that neither you, nor Alex Ramirez, nor Carl Williams are in danger from the radiation you encountered,” Smith said. “But they still wouldn’t let me bring flowers in.”

“Flowers?” asked Kyle. “Why would you bring me flowers?”

“From the American media. Bringing flowers to someone in a hospital seems to be a common cultural courtesy, is it not?” Smith’s brows furrowed together.

Kyle smiled cheerfully at the alien. “Yes, sorry, I’m just not used to many people remembering that when it comes to myself being in the hospital.”

“I left them with the first desk I came to. Perhaps you can take them when you leave here.”

“Thank you Mister Smith, I’m sure they are lovely. In fact, I will have my daughter pick them up when she comes to see me this evening,” Kyle replied. “But I am positive that you did not come all the way to Minnesota to bring me flowers.”

“I wish it were that simple, but I have actually come to give you some news which you will appreciate, and some words of caution.”

“Why don’t we start with the news, Mister Smith.”

“Your plan worked at Helku. Mostly. The gravitational weapon was destroyed and the Iltia’cor High Command is in a panic. It seems that their supreme military leader was on board the ship at the time. It also seems that they were filming and transmitting the ambush to show other races who dared opposed them. I don’t think the images that were sent to the other races conveyed the message they were hoping for,” Smith said.

“I would think not. How much was broadcast?”

“All of it, they had some cameras set up about 80,000 kilometers away to catch the whole area of space. It’s a great angle of everything, including the explosion of their ship. I’ll have it sent over. I must admit I wasn’t for sure if the sled got away or not, it was severely damaged when the bombs started going off.”

Kyle nodded. ”We may have underestimated how big of an explosion it would be.”

“I can see where you might want to err on the side of too much rather than too little at that point.”

“You said ‘mostly’, Mister Smith. What did you mean that the plan worked ‘mostly’?” Kyle inquired.

“Unfortunately, an enormous amount of highly radioactive debris is about six months away from raining down on Helku. The people of the planet are extremely glad to see the Iltia’cor leave, but they are going to lose their planet. At least for several hundred years.”

Kyle gritted his teeth. “The law of unintended consequences always has a way of intruding on triumph, no matter where it is found.”

Kyle stood and started pacing.

“Can we move the people of Helku off their planet and set them up elsewhere?” Kyle asked Smith.

“I think that is entirely possible, and with the Iltia’cor no longer an issue, I would say that you could begin evacuating them in a short period of time,” Smith answered.

“The Iltia’cor are no longer an issue?”

“Yes, that was the major point of news I was going to inform you of. The Iltia’cor have withdrawn from all alien worlds and have started gathering in the Iltia system.”

“When you say they have withdrawn, you mean their military has ceased oppressing the people of the rest of the held worlds?”

“Yes. Also, all of their merchants, scientists, travelers, diplomats… every Iltia’cor is heading back to their home system,” Smith said.

“Have they sued for peace or asked to speak to Earth’s representatives?”

“No.”

“We have tried to communicate with them, but they never respond. Why?” Kyle asked.

“To them, this particular war is over. That is why they have withdrawn to their system. They will analyze why they lost, study your war efforts and rebuild in order to engage you again.”

“The hell they will!” shouted Kyle as he stepped towards Smith.

Smith smiled and shrugged. “You used the phrase ‘the law of unintended consequences’, and I believe the Iltia’cor are about to experience that completely,” Smith said with an oddly smug looking smile on his face.

“What did I miss? What do you mean the Iltia’cor are about to experience the law of unintended consequences?”

Smith leaned forward in his seat. “Tell me General, did Earth ever sign the Treaty of the Stars?”

“I’ve never heard of that. What is it?” Kyle said sitting back down.

“It’s a treaty that all interstellar capable races agree to. It says that you will abide by the rules and by the standards of Galactic Law.”

“Galactic Law? Wait, why have we never heard of this before?”

“To be honest, General, because of the Iltia’cor. They sit on the Lower Council and have rights to stop actions that they feel are inappropriate. Because you lack mosar they argued that you were not truly ‘living’ beings as described in the law. By the time the rest of the Council was convinced that you should be contacted, they had already attacked Earth.”

Kyle sat there stunned. “What if we had been contacted?”

“If you were a signatory to the treaty, they could not have invaded your home system,” Smith said.

“But they invaded the Hedali’s home system…”

“They used a loophole in the law for that. The Hedali violated the law on handling prisoners and because of that violation, the Iltia’cor were able to establish a military presence until the violators were put on trial and punished.”

“That’s why Lon was still alive. As long as he lived, and they didn’t put him on trial, the Iltia’cor could keep their ships in their system.”

“Correct, General. They had declared it a criminal investigation, not an invasion.”

Kyle thought for a second. “Correct me if I am wrong, Mister Smith, but if Earth is not a signatory of the treaty, then the treaty does not protect us.”

“That is true.” said Smith.

“However, since we have never signed the treaty, we are not constrained by the treaty, either.”

“An unintended consequence of the Iltia’cor preventing you from being approached by the Council,” Smith replied.

“I see. Would invading the Iltia’cor system cause problems for us if we were to later decide to sign the treaty?” Kyle asked.

“That is an answer I cannot give you, but I might be able to let you speak to someone who could answer that, if you would like,” Smith answered.

“Who?”

Smith smiled and set a small silver disc on the coffee table. “A’nacal would be glad to speak with you, if you so desire. He is on the Higher Council.”

“How would I speak with him?” Kyle asked. “Would I have to go to him, or would we meet somewhere neutral?”

Smith touched the side of the disc and an image sprang up. It looked like a brown length of fabric draped over the back of a chair.

“A’nacal?” Smith asked.

A very purple, very alien looking face swung in front of the image. “Earth language? English? Must be my meeting with the Earthmen. What do you mean it’s on? Well turn it off!”

Kyle heard something, probably an alien language, cut across the words at times and then the image went blank.

He looked at Smith and pointed at where the image was.

A few seconds later the image reappeared with the same face now centered in view.

“I am sorry, I think we had some technically difficulties there. Let’s begin once more. My name is A’nacal and you must be General Kyle Hubert Martin, is that correct?” the image asked.

“Yes,” said Kyle, clearly at a loss as to what else to say.

“Well, General Martin. I am glad to speak with you. It seems that you have been busy making a mess around your edge of the galaxy. I appreciate a new neighbor with a sense of passion and adventure.” A’nacal said.

“Thank you, but I can assure you that it was not our intention to make a mess. We are just trying to protect ourselves.”

“And others as well. What a breath of fresh air, as you would say. In one of your sacred texts, you have a man asking of his creator ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’ It seems that Earth has answered a resounding “yes” to that question, at least when it comes to the Hedali, the Pelod, the Calarians, and the others the Iltia’cor have conquered. Tell me, General Martin, does this come naturally to Earthmen? Because if so, then you must be very successful in suppressing this desire to help one another based on your history of war.”

“I suppose some men find it an easier impulse to turn off than other men,” Kyle answered.

“No, General Martin. The fact is that most Earthmen would not answer ‘yes’ to this question, they would answer ‘no’. Your faith in your race is commendable, but it is not adequate. I assume that Smith, as you know him, has told you of the bind that the Iltia’cor have found themselves,” A’nacal continued.

“Yes, he explained it pretty clearly.”

“Good, good. The Iltia’cor have asked the Lower Council to interfere. Some of their peers want to, but the Higher Council interceded on your behalf. The Iltia’cor stand alone against Earth. They picked this fight, and you fought back. I personally find it a great irony, and I love a great irony.” A’nacal made a noise that Kyle took to be a laugh.

“But there are some restrictions we will put on you. Do you understand that these are not negotiable?” A’nacal asked.

“I’m willing to listen to what you say, but not willing to give my word we will accept it,” Kyle replied.

“Then listen. First, Earth will sign the Treaty of the Stars after you have dealt with the Iltia’cor. You will be required to learn and follow Galactic Law after that point. Second, non-military targets may not directly or indirectly be in your assault on the Iltia system. The fact that the Iltia’cor targeted some of your non-military facilities in their assault on Earth is the primary reason we have forbidden the Lower Council to interfere. Third, when the Iltia’cor concede in a formal manner to Earth, we will have one more restriction to put into place. I promise it will not be onerous nor in any manner dangerous to Earth, but we must establish precedence in this situation so that no other race decides to follow the actions of the Iltia’cor.” A’nacal settled back into his seat and waited.

Kyle was concerned that there was something he was missing in what A’nacal said, but he couldn’t seem to find any wiggle room in the straight forward words.

Kyle finally spoke. “A’nacal, thank you for taking the time to speak with me today. I believe that there is nothing in your restrictions that would not be amenable to our diplomats. We, of course, will need to read the Treaty of the Stars and decide on our own whether to sign it or not. And we will decide in our own interest whether the final restriction is something we can live with. But I think you will find us reasonable and good neighbors.”

“The Junniji had some very astute observations about you, General. I mean Earthmen in general, but also you General, in specific.” A’nacal paused. “Your language is quite ridiculous, General. Are you aware of this?”

Kyle nodded. “I have observed that myself on occasion.”

“The Junniji compiled the report for us on what happened to precipitate the Iltia-Earth conflict. They were able to interview several of the Iltia’cor who were in the room when Kiltao Bregan decided to kill Doctor Emily Troy. Do you know why he did this, General?”

Kyle had always wondered what happened in the minutes before the Iltia’cor commander picked up the surgical blade, and now he was speechless as he realized he was going to hear the cause of all of this death and destruction.

“He was sure that the human circulatory system would seal itself when ruptured.”

Kyle’s legs went out from under him. “So… so he thought she would be fine?” he said as he sat on the floor. He head was spinning with this implication. “So Alex killed him when he…”

“No. Don’t be ridiculous. Even though he thought she would live, it was still a violent assault. I’m sure he would have let her bleed to death and laughed while doing so. No General, Alex Ramirez did the whole galaxy a favor by killing that over-pompous cretin. I am certainly glad we don’t have to deal with him.”

Kyle slowly rose, a confused look on his face.

“You didn’t know? The Hedali didn’t tell you?” A’nacal sighed heavily. “They always leave out details they think are irrelevant, but what is irrelevant to a Hedali is usually the most important matter. Kiltao Bregan was heir to the Iltia throne. They don’t actually have a throne, mind you, but that would be the easiest way to explain it using Earth idioms.”

Kyle sat back down heavily.

“Don’t feel responsible, General. None of the Higher Council places blame for this conflict on any Earthman. Blame is place directly on Kiltao Bregan.”

Kyle shook his head a little as questions started piling up in his head.

“Did you send us the engines?” Kyle asked.

“No, nor did any other member of the Higher Council. As to who did send them, that is a secret that only they have a right to reveal.”

“Why did you decide to talk to me at this time?”

“Because of your brilliant use of tactics at Helku. I don’t have a military mind, General, but that was amazing! I have watched the transmissions of it multiple times. You Earthmen sure know how to put on a show.”

“You wanted to speak to me because of our tactics?”

“Not precisely. I needed to speak with you because of the results of your tactics. Once the Iltia’cor lost the gravity well generator, they became crazed with fear. They started pulling back into their system and are frantically trying to assign blame on each other. You are on the verge of victory and they know it. Their only hope is that you will decide to abide by a reaty that you have never heard of before today.”

Kyle nodded as he understood.

“So General, do the Iltia’cor have any hope?”

“No,” said Kyle. “They have no hope.”

“I didn’t think so. But I felt that the Earthmen needed to know all of the facts before you made your assault. I didn’t want ignorance to be an excuse if you felt guilty later. If you destroy the Iltia’cor military, you will do so knowing that this is not acceptable to the civilized races. Are you still willing to do this?”

“We will sign the Treaty after the Iltia’cor surrender, and not a moment before,” said Kyle.

A’nacal smiled and his image disappeared.

Chapter 18

18 August 2044

Kyle looked around at his room once again. A long history of writing lists never broke him of the habit of making a visual inspection of his room before he left for a trip.

“Everything is in the car, Dad,” Sara said from the doorway.

He turned and smiled at his daughter. “Thanks sweetie, I’ll only be gone for about twelve days this time. Make sure you don’t burn the house down.”

Since the Iltia’cor invasion, Sara had moved home from college and taken up residence in her old room. While Kyle was certainly glad that she wanted to spend more time at home, he was fully aware that he was, in fact, not around near as much as he should be as a father.

“The surrender should be soon, then a few days of treaty negotiations, then I will take some time off. Think about what you want to do when I get back,” he said as he hugged her

“Italy?” She asked. “Or better, Sicily. We could go to Palermo and the ruins at Syracuse.”

“That sounds incredible! What a great trip. I was thinking Disney World, but I guess you aren’t quite at that age anymore,” Kyle said as his driver, Sergeant Kinsey, started up the car outside.

“Disney World! I didn’t think about that. Now I have a tough choice”

Kyle laughed as he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You go ahead and think about it and set it up. I’ll go wherever you want. I have to go now, sweetie.”

“Ok Dad, be safe and come back soon,” she said with the same measured practice she had used since she was old enough to send him off into harm’s way.

Kyle looked back at his house as he stepped into the car. It was about two years from being paid off. He shook his head at the thought.

“Kinsey, I’m about to head to a battle 117 light-years away, onboard a ship that costs close to a trillion dollars to construct, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So why am I focused on when I will have my mortgage burning ceremony?”

“Sounds like you have your priorities in the right place, sir.”

Kyle smiled at that answer. It sounded to him like advice he frequently gave and rarely took.

The ride to Dulles was pleasant for Kyle. James Kinsey was an excellent driver, both attentive to the road and to his passenger.

Kyle pulled out his tablet and scanned the morning’s reports as he chatted with Kinsey. He was happy that everything was going well and that no new problems had popped up overnight.

The majority of sleds were already hauling some supply scooters into position around the Iltia system in preparation for the attack. The planners had decided on four simultaneous points of entry into the system. Three cruisers and five scooters would be brought in at each point and attempt to hold the drop point as the sleds went back to bring in reinforcements.  In all, forty cruisers and two hundred scooters would make up the Earth invasion fleet.

If reports were correct, the Iltia’cor would have around sixty cruisers to hold their system, but eighty of the Earth’s scooters were essentially just giant railguns that had proved devastating to the Iltia’cor in each engagement. Kyle hoped that the Iltia’cor wouldn’t devise a counter to Earth’s big punch. If they did, Kyle was still convinced that the fact that the mosar based weapons of the Iltia’cor were useless against Earth’s ships would be enough to tip the balance of the fight.

“We’re here, sir,” Kinsey said as he pulled the car onto a service ramp. A group of armed guards kept a wary watch on their vehicle as an officer approached.

“I.D.,” the officer stated as Kinsey rolled down the window. Kyle handed Kinsey his I.D. card and waited as the officer checked the names on his list.

“Thank you, sir.”

Kyle nodded to him and reattached the card to the front of his uniform. The concrete pillars blocking the way forward lowered into the pavement and the guards cleared off the ramp as Kinsey pulled forward into the dark tunnel.

Kyle’s eyes were just adjusting to the dark when another ramp took the car back towards the surface and daylight.

“I will never get used to seeing that,” said Kinsey as the small spacecraft came into view. The Hedali had given Earth four atmospheric transport vessels as part of their thanks for Earth liberating their home planet. One vessel had been assigned to Admiral Rider’s office, now headed by General Kitch, and she had made it available for Kyle to use so that he could spend a few extra days at home.

Kitch and Chancellor Thomas were already on the Enterprise around Jupiter making last minute preparations for the surrender of the Iltia’cor and the signing of the Treaty of the Stars. Kyle would be joining them in around twelve hours and by the end of the week this war would be over.

Retirement was never something that Kyle longed for or thought much about, but the idea of spending some real time with Sara and not worrying that he would leave her alone was becoming more and more attractive to him as the years bore down on him. Kitch saw that and ordered him to take a few days off and spend some time with his daughter. She couldn’t really order him, not yet anyway, but she had strongly suggested.

Kyle smiled as he thought about the possibility that Kitch could soon be giving him orders officially. Her handling of Rider’s duties had impressed everyone as the Earth Council hesitated and wavered on who to promote to Supreme Commander of Earth Forces. For a while it was a choice between Kyle and someone who wasn’t the Butcher of Hyderabad. But in the last few weeks it had become more and more a choice between Kyle and General Diane Kitch. The Chancellor had requested they both be present for the surrender and the Treaty signing, and he had demanded that the Council decide whose name should be on the documents before they left Jupiter.

Kinsey was already unloading Kyle’s luggage from the trunk as Kyle finally put away his tablet and stepped out of the car.

“Sir?” Kinsey asked as he held up Kyle’s marine saber.

“Part of my dress uniform,” Kyle said as he smiled back at the young marine. “Chancellor Thomas wanted us in our full regalia, so the saber comes.”

Kinsey laughed and shut the trunk of the car. Kyle helped him move all of his luggage onto the small Hedali vessel and then shook his hand as he said goodbye.

“General Martin, glad to meet you sir, I’m Commander Andrews and this is Lieutenant Leonard.”

Kyle looked over and saw the two naval officers walking towards the space ship.

“Nice to meet you, Commander. Lieutenant,” Kyle said as he shook both men’s hands.

“Do you have everything stowed, sir?”

“Yes Commander, I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

“Great, let’s get on board and get going to Jupiter,” said Andrews, as they climbed the few steps into the craft.

Inside, the small transport vehicle was more spacious than the size outside would indicate. It stood a mere twenty-three feet from nose to tail and just over twelve feet wide. At just under ten feet in height, it looked like it would be cramped, but Kyle didn’t feel like he was going to hit his head as he stood upright.

Andrews and Leonard went to the forward part of the vessel and sat in the pilot seats. Kyle couldn’t call it a cockpit as the entire vessel was completely open, except for a small sleeping compartment and lavatory. Kyle sat on the comfortable bench seat across from the entry hatch and stretched his legs out in front of him.

He pulled out his tablet and checked for any news. It felt strange getting reports from several light years away in the space of minutes, but that’s what was happening. After the liberation of Kirtit, the Hedali had made several gifts to Earth; access to some drive and weapons technology, four small transport vessels that had atmospheric and faster than light communications capabilities, and six faster than light transmission rigs that could be set on a larger vessel or station.

One of the transmitters was set up at Space Station Ellison and four others were set into scooters that traveled to the rendezvous points when an assault was planned, but were never taken into the systems that would see combat. The sixth was in New Mexico being carefully studied and reverse engineered.

He would love to have one on Earth so that they would have near instant communication with Jupiter, but the delay would be worth it if the guys at Roswell could figure out how Earth could make the transmitters. If they succeed in that assignment, then delayed communication would be something the next generation would never have to consider when they planned trips across the cosmos.

“Are we really at that point already?” thought Kyle. This morning he was discussing with Sara whether to go to Sicily or Disneyworld. In a few years the discussion would be what planet to visit on a vacation.

Kyle sighed as he lost his train of thought and looked over to the pilots, barely hearing their chatter while he had been reading and thinking. He was surprised to see the dark sky dotted with the bright canopy of stars.

“When did we leave Earth?” he asked.

“We are just breaking through the stratosphere, sir. You were pretty deep in your reading I guess,” Andrews replied.

Kyle stood and walked over to get a better look out the window. With the advanced artificial gravity adjusters on the Hedali ship, he never felt the acceleration of the takeoff.

“Course is laid in, General, and we will be burning hot as soon as we get clearance. About three minutes out at this point,” Leonard told him.

Kyle walked back to his seat and picked up his tablet. He was about to sit down when he heard Andrews address him.

“General Martin. Sir? You have an emergency message coming in.”

Kyle walked back over to the pilots. “Who is it?”

“It’s Commander Salazar, sir. He says it is vital he speak to you.”

“Put him on speaker, Commander.”

“Salazar, I am putting you on speaker with General Martin,” said Andrews as he flipped a switch and nodded at Kyle.

“General Martin, can you hear me?”

“I hear you, Commander, you caught me minutes before we were to leave Earth space and head to Jupiter.”

“I am very glad to have caught you then. Sir, I need to let you have some intel, I knew you would want it as soon as you could.”

Kyle could tell this was urgent, Salazar’s voice was strained, but also strangely excited.

“Go ahead, Commander, it is just myself, Andrews and Leonard here.”

“We were able to take one of the Otina bases just about an hour ago, sir. We lost six and have twenty-four wounded.”

Kyle winced; he hated having to lose any men.

“We took most of their base fairly well intact, and in fact we were able to start downloading data into the Berlin’s data system and start analyzing it. One of the analysts caught something and brought it right to me, sir. It’s about the crew of the Endeavor. They are alive sir.”

Kyle felt the ship spin suddenly and he was aware that Andrews was on his feet and holding his arm.

“Sir, did you hear me? We believe that the crew of the Endeavor was taken by force from the shuttle before the Otina destroyed it. They are being held and experimented on at a base only a few million klicks away from here.”

Kyle’s voice cracked and wavered as he spoke. “The crew is alive? All of them?”

“Sir, I know your sister was on board the shuttle, and from the information we have, she is being held on their base. From what we can put together, yes, she is alive.”

Kyle couldn’t believe it. His sister was alive, but apparently being experimented on by the Otina.

“Salazar, send your coordinates to Andrews,” Kyle ordered. “Andrews, send a message to the Enterprise, tell them I have been delayed and to keep to their departure schedule.”

Kyle started pacing as Andrews sent the message and waited for the coordinates to be downloaded.

“Sir, looks like we will have an almost nine hour trip on full burst, you might want to go get some sleep if you can,” Leonard suggested after the two pilots started setting up for the trip.

“Thank you Lieutenant, I might do just that,” Kyle said as he focused his breathing and tried to calm himself.

Kyle went to the back and lay down on the small bunk in the sleeping compartment, but he couldn’t sleep. He just kept thinking that his sister was alive, and no matter what happened, he was going to bring her home.

Chapter 19

19 August 2044

The curtain pulled back and bright light fell across Kyle’s face.

“Sir, we are about to rendezvous with the Berlin,” said Leonard.

Kyle sat up on the small bunk in the sleeping cabin. He wished he had been able to sleep at least a little before arriving, but he had been up for the last eight or nine hours thinking. He was thinking about how to get his sister out of the Otina base. He was thinking about what condition she would be in when he found her. He was thinking about his last dinner with her. He was thinking about the incredible grief his family went through when they believed she had died. But mostly, he was thinking about bringing his sister home.

“Thanks Lieutenant,” Kyle said as he stood and stretched.

“No sleep at all, sir?” Leonard asked.

“No, but that’s ok. Sorry to make you change up your day,” Kyle said, stifling a yawn.

“No need, sir. We understand. If it were my sister, I’d be doing the same thing.”

Kyle smiled and patted the young pilot on the shoulder as he walked into the main cabin of the ship.

The view out the main window of the Hedali vessel was amazing. None of the Earth ships, except the pre-contact shuttles, had an actual window to look out of from the bridge. There were some small view ports, but they were locked down for the most part. There were external camera’s that gave good images for the cruisers and allowed the scooters to land planet side using thrusters, but it wasn’t the same as looking out a good old-fashioned window.

Ahead of them was the Berlin. Several scooters were moving around it and two were docked with it.

“Berlin, this is Earth Transport Three. Approach vectors received, docking computer online. Guide us in,” Andrews said.

Kyle watched as Andrews pulled his hands away from the controls. The large cruiser seemed to subtly twist and turn and grow much larger until Kyle saw the small hatch that would provide docking.

Leonard pressed a button on the console near the surface hatch and Kyle watched as the floor of the main cabin revealed a shallow depression with a docking hatch nestled at the bottom.

“Sir, you might want to know that I will kill our artificial gravity in a few seconds,” Andrews informed Kyle.

Kyle nodded and then felt his stomach roll as he suddenly went weightless. A few seconds later he felt their transport make contact with the large cruiser.

Leonard moved to the hatch, opened it and crawled inside. “Port is up,” he called when he had moved in a way, letting the others know how to orient themselves when they experienced the Berlin’s artificial gravity.

Kyle made sure he climbed into the hatch facing the port side of the Hedali ship so that he wouldn’t suffer the disorientation that he had encountered many times before. He hoped that one day they would standardize the docking of their vessels so the first crew member transferring wouldn’t have to let the others know from which position to enter.

As Kyle crawled through the short tunnel, he noticed there were several men waiting for him on the other side. He took a hand offered to him and was pulled up by Commander Ramon Salazar. “Good to see you, General.”

“Good to see you as well, Commander,” Kyle said. Sergeant Kiskaliski stood slightly behind the others, but Kyle made eye contact and smiled. “You wear First Sergeant well, K-Man.”

K-Man smiled back at Kyle .“Your star looks lonely, sir. Maybe they should add another.”

Kyle laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know if I could stand that. Now, gentlemen, what is the plan?”

Salazar motioned down the hall. “If you will come this way, sir, we have a briefing set up for you.”

A short distance down the hall a small situation room was set up with a tactical display table. Salazar moved to the far side and started narrating the plan as Kyle took a good spot by the table and watched the presentation.

“Here is target Bravo. It is entrenched pretty deep in this asteroid, situated here in the belt,” said Salazar pointing out the location. The holographic image of the asteroid in question zoomed in and rotated so that Kyle could clearly see the surface portions of the base.

“We will move into position 5,000 kilometers off of the surface and the Berlin will take out the heavy weapons located here, here and here. Once those are neutralized, we will move in with the Orinoco and the Nile, we will land the Danube over here once we have breached the perimeter. We were going to be using the Darling, but we have a problem with her navigation system,” Salazar said as he looked at Kyle. “We would like to use Earth Transport Three to bring down an additional twelve troopers, if that would be good for you, sir.”

“That will work fine with me, Commander, and I hope you realize that I will be going as well.”

Salazar nodded to one of his men and looked back at Kyle. “I thought that might be the case. I had them prepare a kit for you. So you, Andrews and Leonard will be accompanied by twelve marines and land here.” He indicated another spot on the asteroid. “In all, our Strike Force will be made up of ninety three troops. We are expecting ten Human prisoners in the lab area on level two.”

“How many levels are there?” Kyle asked.

“Three levels, the lowest one will have the main computer and communications gear, which is the primary purpose of this assault.”

Kyle nodded. The prisoners, including his sister, were a secondary target of the raid.

“Sergeant Kiskaliski will lead Team One whose target will be the main communications array. I will be leading Team Two and will bring in the tech equipment to download the data from their main computer systems. Team Three will be led by General Martin and will be providing support for Teams One and Two until the lab where the prisoners are being held is located. At that point, it will become an extraction operation. Everyone clear?”

“Yes sirs” were heard from all of the men in the room.

“Let’s get your squads together and meet at your assigned ships,” Salazar ordered.

Kyle turned and almost ran into a man coming towards him.

“Excuse me, sir. I didn’t expect you to turn that quickly. I’m Sergeant Wills and am here to get you geared up. If you will follow me.”

Kyle had to walk briskly to keep up with the marine leading him further into the Berlin.

“Sergeant, the Commander said there were ten prisoners, but the Endeavor only had a crew of eight. Do you know the reason for the discrepancy?”

“No sir, just know what the mission briefing said. Ten possible prisoners, and we are going to bring them out,” said Wills as he opened a door. “In here sir, we’ll get you all set.”

About half an hour later, Kyle was in full combat gear. It had been several years since he had prepared to go into ground combat and he was amazed at how everything came back to him. The weight of the body armor was reassuring, the laser sight on his rifle was like an old friend, and the feel of the KA-BAR on his waist was like the caress of a lover.

He was more than ready to go get his sister off of that rock. He took several measured breaths to settle down his anxiety. He knew that being focused and calm would serve him better than being excited and anxious.

“We’re ready sir, less than three minutes until we are in position,” Salazar said as he stuck his head into the locker room. “We’ll see you on the rock.”

Kyle nodded to Salazar and left the room heading towards his ship. Several marines were waiting there for him, including Sergeant Wills holding a space helmet.

“Sir, as you are boarding up to go on your first hypo-atmospheric mission, let me do the honor of sealing your helmet.”

Kyle smirked. He had heard of this tradition, it was like checking parachutes in the old days; a sign of good luck, trust and camaraderie. He lowered his head so Wills could secure the helmet. A few clicks and a hiss declared that his oxygen system had kicked on. He pressed the side of his helmet and his head up display activated showing him all the associated information. Another button brought up the infrared display. He turned both off.

“Everything is working fine Sergeant, thank you.”

The marines gave one loud “Oorah!” and started boarding the Hedali Transport.

Kyle smiled and crawled in with his team, hindered just a little by the helmet already secured on his head.

The artificial gravity field ended halfway through the short crawl and he was able to swim out of the hatch with ease. He drifted over to Andrews and oriented himself so his feet would hit the floor when they detached from the Cruiser. A quick glance at the positioning display showed that the Berlin had approached the asteroid with target Bravo and had started it’s bombardment of the Otina base. Kyle looked out the front windows of the transport and saw the edge of the energy bursts from the firing railguns on the Cruiser.

Kyle looked behind him and saw that Wills had secured the hatch and one of the other marines was standing by the console to close up the floor.

“Grav in 4… 3… 2… 1… Mark,” said Leonard as the transport separated from the Berlin and the artificial gravity came back online.

Kyle’s feet hit the floor of the ship and he instantly felt more at ease. Zero gravity is a fun thing to play in, but it is a real pain when you need to move around and get things done quickly.

The Berlin left the view of the windows and Kyle saw the Orinoco and Nile speeding ahead toward the Otina base. Three large craters were all that were left of the heavy weapons that were protecting the base from other Otina clans.

Kyle had asked Lon about the Otina while considering how to deal with them after Earth signed the Treaty of the Stars. Lon had provided as much information as he could about them, but the information was sparse in places. Since they had never signed the Treaty themselves, the Otina were considered outcasts and vagabonds and no one really knew where their home system was. That had been fascinating for Kyle to read about. The Otina basically separated themselves into families, tribes and clans. The families were led by Captains and generally were bound to ships or bases. The tribes were loose confederations of families and were led by Warlords. And the clans were very strictly delineated groups of tribes who were led by Kings. While there was some internecine tribal fighting, most Otina viewed other clans as their main source of danger.

Kyle’s focus was brought back into line when he saw a burst of laser fire from the Orinoco as it started to land. A smoldering line of debris scarred the middle of one of the bulwarks leading up to the main entrance of the base. As Andrews landed their ship, Kyle saw the Orinoco’s ground troops start deploying as the Nile hovered about 700 meters up laying down suppression fire.

“Ready for deploy, sir,” said Wills. Kyle looked back at the marines. They had their helmets secured and were all facing the door.

“Marines, go!” Kyle ordered. One of the troops hit the button on the control panel and the hatchway started opening. Before the ladder had touched the surface of the asteroid, four marines were on the ground and heading towards the base.

Kyle had just exited the transport when he saw the Nile land and its troops start to deploy. The Otina had been taken by surprise, as was the plan, but in the minutes between the orbital bombardment and the landing of the craft, the crafty aliens had been able to put up a small amount of resistance. Kyle saw two Earth troops lying unmoving near the Orinoco as he approached the entrance to their base.

The chatter and responses of the troops as they moved in told Kyle that the Otina had blocked off several routes on the ground level and were trying to funnel the Earth troops into a particular corridor. K-man had spotted the ruse and had one of his men deploy two grenades which detonated the booby traps and killed several Otina waiting in ambush.

By the time Kyle had caught up with the lead team, they had secured the main elevator shaft to the lower levels and the Earth engineers were cutting the cables and setting up their own secure lift.

“We can get the prisoners up with no problem?” Kyle asked as the engineers went about their business.

“Yes sir,” one of them responded without slowing down his work. “We can even get a stretcher up it like a mother’s embrace.”

“We’re open,” someone stated. K-man and another of his marines stepped into the canvas stirrups. They zipped down out of sight and two more marines stepped up to take their turns. A blast and the sound of automatic fire from below told everyone that the Otina were still showing heavy resistance but K-man and his team were advancing anyway. In short order thirty marines were down on the second floor and it was Kyle’s turn to descend. He stepped in the stirrup and grabbed the rope with his left hand. The motor cranked the pulley and he rapidly descended on the makeshift elevator. He practically fell off the cable into the opening that had been a sealed doorway. About a dozen Otina lay strewn about the hallway in both directions.

“This way, sir.” Sergeant Wills signaled to Kyle off to the right. A blast from the opposite end of the hall said that K-Man’s team was heading towards the auxiliary elevator leading to the communications array. That meant that Salazar’s team would descend further down the first shaft to the main computer room.

Kyle started after Wills when he heard the sound of automatic fire and the high buzz of the Otina laser weapons. A marine staggered out of the doorway that he had seen Wills and the rest of his men duck into. Kyle reached him and helped him sit down in the hallway. A large portion of his arm was blackened and burned and he was gasping heavily.

“Wait here son, help will be here soon,” Kyle said as he activated the alert button on the marine’s helmet.

“Go get her, sir,” the marine mumbled out as he slumped against the wall. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

Kyle heard “Grenades” shouted by a marine as he stood from tending the wounded warrior. He suddenly felt the concussion blast behind him followed by screams of pain. He barely kept his feet as he turned to the doorway. Heavy smoke was coming out of the entrance and a quick look in the room told him that something had gone dreadfully wrong.

The room was about twelve meters long with a far doorway. Lab equipment and examination tables lay jumbled along the walls and there were several Otina lying still. But there were also a half dozen marines lying still as well, most within five meters of the door Kyle was standing in. The other half of the squad were moving, some barely, and he saw Wills crawling back to the door.

An Otina appeared at the far doorway and Kyle raised his rifle to fire.

“No!” shouted Wills through his pain. “Cease fire!”

Kyle lifted his finger from the trigger and looked at the doorway that framed the Otina. There seemed to be a light blue shimmer.

Kyle dropped to a knee, rifle still at the ready and looked at the Otina just staring at him.

“What is that, Wills?” Kyle asked as the sergeant got near.

“I don’t know, sir.” The sergeant sounded healthier than he looked. “Our grenades blew back on us. Any Otina on this side took the blast, but the shrapnel seemed to bounce off that blue field.”

“An inertial shield,” Kyle said out loud while silently cursing Smith. When they had asked the Pelod if the Iltia’cor had any inertial shield technology, he had hesitated before he said no. He hesitated because he knew the Otina had developed it.

Kyle took a grenade out from his satchel when Wills grabbed his leg. “No sir, you can’t. The prisoners are in stasis tubes in that room. Rolling a grenade in will kill the Otina, but it will kill them as well.”

Two other of the wounded marines had made it back to the doorway with Kyle and Wills when he decided what he had to do.

“How many are in there?” Kyle asked.

“I counted six that made it past the door. Maybe a couple of more already in there,” said one of the marines.

“You men cover that door. Turn your rifles to single and if they come out, pop them,” Kyle said. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ll have the medics right behind me.”

Kyle jumped up and ran back to the elevator. He signaled the engineers that he needed to come up and contacted Andrews. “Get my gear out of storage,” he simply ordered.

A few minutes later he was running up the steps to the Hedali transport. He saw all of his gear laying out when he stepped over and picked up his marine saber.

“Sir, you came back for your saber?” Andrews asked.

“It’s not just a ceremonial weapon,” said Kyle as he ducked back out of the vessel. He ran hard and fast, calling to the medics that the way was clear down to the second floor hallway. The engineers had him down the elevator and, like promised, he had the medics coming right behind him.

He turned the corner into the Otina lab and saw that a fourth wounded marine had joined Wills at the near doorway.

“Have any of them stuck their heads out?” asked Kyle.

“No sir, one keeps peeking around the corner looking at us, but so far he has stayed behind the field.”

“Sir?” another of the marines asked. “What do you think you are doing?”

Kyle pulled the scabbard from his saber and let it fall to the floor. With his left hand he drew his KA-BAR. He started walking towards the far door.

“I’m going to go get my sister.”

Chapter 20

“Hold still, General.” Doctor Amanda Reeling was trying to look at the small wound on the back of his shoulder.

“I thought you were a geologist or something, Amanda. How were you on the Danube?” Kyle asked.

“I am, but I was an LPN before I fell in love with inorganic chemistry and went back to school. When the war broke out, I felt I owed it to Emily to join up. They didn’t need a lot of geologists, but they did need nurses.”

Kyle felt his sister squeeze his hand and looked down at her.

“I still can’t believe this,” Cindy said.

“I know, sis, but you are safe now.”

Kiskaliski stood nearby watching another of the medics who was patching up Sergeant Wills. The grenade shrapnel was mostly absorbed by his body armor and aside from some severe bruising and a few minor punctures and lacerations, he would be fine. Three of the marines in the Otina lab were not so lucky, and the Earth forces lost twelve in all. The rescued prisoners and the most seriously injured marines were put aboard the Danube, and each of the other vessels took a couple of medics to treat the minor injuries. Cindy was supposed to go on the medical scooter, but she was insistent that she stay with her brother. When Kyle mentioned that he was heading straight to the Iltia system, K-man asked permission from Salazar to accompany the General.

“I’m telling you, it was amazing. I never saw anything like it.” Wills was telling K-man. “The General came in, pulled his saber from its sheath, grabbed his KA-BAR from his belt and just ran into the blue field. I don’t think the Otina knew what was happening.”

K-man nodded. “I saw the results of his action. I was pretty stunned, and I never thought I would be stunned again.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “You were both trained to know that a knife is the deadliest weapon in an enclosed environment.”

“A knife, yeah, but a sword? Why did you think to go get a sword?” K-man asked.

Kyle was about to speak when he heard his sister start to laugh. All three of the marine’s looked at her to see what was so funny.

“You mean he doesn’t tell everyone?” she asked.

“Tell everyone what?” Wills asked.

“Cindy, it’s no big deal. Just drop it,” Kyle said quietly.

“No, don’t drop it, what does he tell everyone?” insisted K-Man.

“When he first graduated the Academy, it was all he told anyone who would listen. He was the fencing champion his senior year. He thought it was the biggest deal in the world and he wouldn’t shut up about it,” Cindy said as tears of laughter streaked down her cheeks.

“Well…,” Kyle cleared his throat. “I guess it did pay off today, didn’t it?”

They all laughed at that.

Cindy moved closer to her brother as the two medics finished up their work and started to pack up their kits. “How long has it been since we were taken from the Endeavor?” Cindy asked finally.

“Two years, ten months and twelve days,” said Kyle.

“And who were the other two humans with us?” she inquired.

“One was Chinese and we were able to get some information about him. The other was in such shock that we couldn’t get him to say anything or even acknowledge whether he understood us,” Doctor Reeling said as she came back over and sat with them.

“I know there is obviously a lot of information that I am missing, but can someone bring me up to speed. Aliens, interstellar travel, my brother rescuing me… I’m a little lost,” Cindy said to Kyle.

“Let’s start with the basics. The aliens that captured you are called the Otina. The aliens who gave us this ship are called the Hedali.”

“Uh huh. And who gave us those other ships?” Cindy asked.

“We built them,” Wills answered.

“We? As in NASA?”

“No, we as in Earth,” Kyle replied.

“When the Iltia’cor invaded and tried to take us over, it kind of consolidated us as a race,” K-man added.

“Wait… invaded? Aliens invaded Earth?” Cindy was clearly befuddled.

“They tried to. Didn’t do very well at it. But they started the war by trying to invade,” Wills said.

“War?”

Kyle pulled her close to him. “Yes, sis, we are at war. But it should be over soon. We have closed in on the Iltia system and by the time we get there, the battle should be won.”

“Get there? I thought we were heading to Earth?”

“No, we are four days from the Iltia system. I need to be there for the surrender and then we have to sign a treaty that will bring Earth officially into the galactic system. Then we will go back to Earth. We should have you back home in about nine days,” said Kyle.

“Nine days? How far are we going?”

“The Iltia system is 117 light-years from Earth.”

Cindy stood up and looked around the small vessel. “Listen up everyone, and I’m serious about this. Does anyone have anything to drink?”

For the next four days, Cindy was filled in on what had happened since she was taken captive. From the first encounter with the Hedali and Otina, to the murder of Emily Troy and the invasion of the Iltia’cor, and all the way up to the raid on the Otina base that resulted in her rescue. The new technologies, the amazing advances, and the day to day plodding of people’s lives all seemed to thrill and excite her.

She never volunteered any information about what she had to endure, and Kyle understood that hearing the new and fascinating stories was a good diversion for her. When she took her turn sleeping in the sleeping cabin, Kyle would sit just outside and listen to her whimper and sometimes even scream as her dreams brought back the tortures and experiments that the Otina inflicted on her.

Even though Kyle was pre-occupied with his sister being alive and safe, he still had work to do. He had received some last minute transmissions from the Grant just before it left Ellison for the Iltia system. Because he would not be present at the battle, and could quite possibly miss the surrender and treaty signing as well, the Earth Council had promoted Kitch to full General and had appointed her Supreme Commander of Earth Forces.

Kyle was glad the decision had been made and was surprised at the relief he felt that it wasn’t he who was chosen. He was also pleased at the initial reports from the Iltia system. From the rendezvous locations around the system where the cruisers would start the assault, Earth forces were picking up Iltia’cor communications. The aliens were in disarray with at least three separate factions trying to take charge.

Further bolstering Kyle’s mood was the news that the communications array on the Otina base was taken intact and could be used on Earth fairly quickly.

“Sir, we are coming up on the rendezvous point. You said you wanted to be alerted to our arrival.” Andrews said. Kyle walked to the front of the ship and realized that the other five passengers were doing the same.

The warp field dropped and out the front window Kyle could see a few scooters and a sled.

“Hemingway, this is Earth Transport Three.”

“We read you Earth Transport Three, welcome to the Iltia system. I trust all went well?” the voice of Colonel “Cowboy” Jackson greeted the crew.

Kyle motioned for an ear piece from Leonard who handed one to him.

“Cowboy! Good to hear your voice, I guess the Hemingway got a few of those new engines?” Kyle said.

“Indeed sir, she is a tiger once again. Was your mission successful?”

“Yes it was. We have successfully rescued the crew of the Endeavor and are on our way to driving the Otina from our system.”

Cindy pulled on Kyle’s arm. “Tell him I said hello.”

“My sister is here and she says hello,” Kyle smiled at his sister.

“Good to hear you are alive, Cindy. We’ll get together back on Earth. I know Maggie will be thrilled to see you again. I don’t know if you were aware, sir, but your sister and my wife were a major team of pranksters.”

Kyle laughed at that before bringing them back to focus on news of the war. “I guess everything went well here or I would be reading all sorts of reports.”

“Yes sir, we had some serious damage to the Rome, lost several hundred men there, but otherwise it went very well. You do have some reports coming your way, transmitting them now, some battle reports and navigational coordinates to the fourth planet in the system which is where the surrender ceremony and treaty signing will take place. You guys better high tail it if you want to make it in time.”

“Roger, Cowboy. Thanks for the reports,” Kyle handed the earpiece back to Leonard as Andrews powered up the warp field engines again.

“How long will it be before we get to the planet?” Cindy asked Kyle.

Kyle checked his tablet for the coordinates. “Looks like a short hop into the system, then a seven hour run to the planet.”

“Will they have a full sized bathtub?” she asked as Kyle laughed at her.

The formal surrender ceremony was already scheduled to have begun by the time Kyle stepped out of the small Hedali landing craft and walked down the four short steps to the ground. For the last two years he had spent a large amount of time in space, but this was the first time he had ever stepped on an alien planet. The docking area was crowded with Earth forces of seemingly dozens of nations and military organizations.

“This is crazy, Kyle, did you ever think we would be on another planet like this? It’s like something out of a movie,” Cindy said.

Kyle took his sister’s hand and smiled at her. “Come on, let’s get to the ceremony. They said it was in the large blue and silver building.”

Andrews, Leonard and the rest of the passengers of the transport were right behind them as they made their way through the crowd. Soon small groups of Iltia’cor could be seen, huddled together, moving quickly from building to building. Kyle wondered how these Human invaders were being viewed by the people of this planet.

“Sir! General Martin! Sir!” Kyle heard someone call to him. He looked around and finally spotted a young Air Force Captain waving his arm above his head. Kyle recognized him as Captain Mitchell, one of Kitch’s aides.

“Sir, I was told to get you to the ceremony as soon as you landed. It’s already begun. Please hurry,” he said as he turned and started moving towards an exit.

It took about twenty minutes to navigate through the crowds and buildings to get to a plain metal door. The door opened and Captain Mitchell entered and pressed a button after everyone in Kyle’s party made their way into the elevator. They quickly moved up the building before the lift stopped and the doors opened into a large spacious room. The ceiling was a good thirty feet high and there were dozens of humans and Iltia’cor milling about.

“This way, sir,” Captain Mitchell said “They are on the dais near the windows. Although it looks like the ceremony is over.”

Kyle saw Kitch first. She was in full dress uniform with her four stars shining on her shoulder. Next to her was Chancellor Thomas speaking with an Iltia’cor in a sharp looking white military uniform. Alex and Williams were on the dais along with Admiral Boxer, General Liston, and General Davies. Surprisingly, there was a Junniji with them along with several other Iltia’cor.

Kyle approached the platform and issued a salute. Alex was the first to see him and motioned to get Kitch’s attention. She turned, smiled, and sharply returned Kyle’s salute.

“Reporting as ordered, Ma’am,” Kyle said.

“You’re late, General. I will have to consider that in my review,” Kitch said with a smile.

“Cindy!” Alex yelled as he saw Kyle’s sister standing off to the side. He practically jumped off the platform to hug her.

Williams came over and saluted Kyle. “Good to see you, sir.”

“Good to be seen, Sergeant Major,” Kyle said as he returned the salute.

Alex had finished hugging Cindy when he saw Doctor Reeling and started hugging her as well.

“Cindy,” Kyle said. “Come up here, I want you to meet a few people.”

Kitch extended her hand and said “It’s a pleasure to meet you Cindy, Kyle has spoken of you often. I’m so glad he was able to get you back.”

Williams patted Kyle on the back and nodded toward Thomas. Leaving his sister to meet and greet the officers that were starting to move over to her, he took a few steps over to where the Chancellor was speaking with the Iltia’cor in the white uniform.

“Chancellor, sorry I was delayed,” Kyle said shaking the hand of Earth’s representative.

“Glad you could make it, General.” He turned to the Iltia’cor and said. “This is General Martin who directed our war and had great input on the treaty.”

“You mean the surrender demands,” the Iltia’cor said in a crumbly, choppy voice.

“Not in the demands, Ambassador, but in the provisions for self-governance, appeals to the Galactic Council when faced with a dispute over demands from our representatives, and for the cooperation of the Iltia’cor in the joint oversight of rebuilding your defenses,” Thomas replied calmly.

“Indeed? If that is so, then you are much different than the military leaders I am used to dealing with,” said the alien.

“General, may I introduce Ambassador Kurval, the highest ranking Iltia’cor that still lives.”

Kyle gave Thomas a sharp look clearly not understanding what that meant.

Thomas shrugged a little and answered the unasked question. “Seems the military leadership who were to sign the surrender documents took their own lives last night in a mass suicide. We landed only hours later and were informed of this by Ambassador Kurval.”

“They were cowards, willing to leave the rest of us to your cruelty when it was they who should have suffered,” Ambassador Kurval said. He then threw his head back and laughed. “And then you show mercy and bring us hope for a future. Not only cowards, but fools as well. Iltia is well for having lost them.”

Kyle’s eyes widened at this hostility shown to the Iltia’cor leadership, but he didn’t fully understand how the Iltia’cor viewed each other. Considering what had befallen them, maybe this wasn’t so unusual.

“I hope that our people can work together in the future, Ambassador Kurval,” said Kyle as he noticed the Junniji approach them.

“I would very much like to speak with you at length, General. But I see that you are needed by another.” Ambassador Kurval bowed slightly. “I must go now and address my people as to what this day means.”

Kyle nodded as Ambassaor Kurval spoke some short, guttural words to the other Iltia’cor on the dais and turned to leave the room,

“General Martin.” The Junniji spoke as he approached Kyle and Thomas. “A’nacal sends his greetings and a copy of the Treaty of the Stars for the people of Earth.”

Thomas smiled at the Junniji and took the offered treaty tablet. “I will have my people start going over it right away. Please thank A’nacal for us.”

“I will, Chancellor,” said the thin alien. “He requests that you decide whether to sign or not within twenty Earth days.”

“We will work as quickly as we can,” replied Thomas.

The Junniji turned back to Kyle. “Will you follow me, General? I have some instructions for you from A’nacal.”

Kyle looked towards his sister and saw she was holding court with several of his friends. He turned back to the Junniji and nodded for him to lead.

A door right off the platform led into a small room with a low table and a couple of narrow benches. The Junniji sat and motioned for Kyle to take a seat on the opposite side. After Kyle sat on the surprisingly uncomfortable bench, the alien took two small silver discs and sat them on the table. He pressed the side of one of the disks and a holographic image appeared above it.

“Ah, General Martin. Good, good, glad to see you are well,” A’nacal said after his image solidified. “I heard about your little side-trip and hope all went as planned?”

“Yes, A’nacal, I was able to get my sister back along with the rest of the crew of the Endeavor.”

“Wonderful, so glad to see stories with happy endings. Now, let’s get down to business. When we last spoke, I told you there would be another condition laid upon you at the conclusion of the Iltia’cor surrender.”

“Yes, I remember that.”

“I lied. There is a condition and then an extra request. But the request is honestly just a request. Not a request backed up by those who can enforce it.”

Kyle smiled at the re-assurance. “That is fair A’nacal. What is the condition first?”

“The condition is this. Since you have so seriously decimated the Iltia’cor’s military ability, Earth will take the Iltia system into their realm of responsibility. They will be your concern and you will protect them as surely as you protect your own system. Is that clear?”

“I don’t have the authority to approve that.”

“No you don’t,” said A’nacal. “Which is why every member of the Earth Council will be informed of this condition. I just wanted you to know of it before we informed your people’s leaders.”

“I appreciate the courtesy, A’nacal, but why should I be informed before the Earth Council?”

“Because it may affect how you respond to the request.”

“What is this request?”

“The Higher Council has determined that the Earth system should replace the Iltia system on the Lower Council, and I have determined that you should be seated as Earth’s representative. Will you accept this appointment?”

Kyle was at a loss for words.

“I can see you are not able to make this decision right now, General. The second communication device is for you. Please take it regardless of what choice you make.”

“How long would I have to be away from Earth if I accept?” Kyle asked.

“Oh no, General Martin,” A’nacal laughed. “You can represent Earth from anywhere with that device. We do ask that you wear the traditional robes when you appear to hear debate or when you vote, but you could stay on Earth or be travelling in warp if you wanted to.”

“I’ll do it,” said Kyle suddenly. “I think the Earth Council would have to approve of my appointment, but I want to represent Earth.”

“I want you to as well, General Martin. You have it in you to help us all reach a greater age, and I am truly glad to have you agree.”

Chapter 21

26 August 2044

Kyle was lying on his bunk on board the Enterprise holding the communicator A’nacal gave him above his face when Cindy came back in the room. He was staring at the little silver disc that would allow him to communicate across the galaxy at a touch.

“How are Mom and Dad?” he asked without moving.

“They are great! Bill was late, as usual, so I didn’t get to speak with him, but I will see him this weekend when we get back.” She sat on the bed next to Kyle’s and sighed.

“What’s wrong, sis?” he asked as he sat up and looked at her.

“So many things have changed, Kyle, and I don’t know where I fit in. When I was captured, I was an astronaut, one of a couple of dozen in space at any given moment. Now there are thousands of people in space all the time. I had an understanding of advanced engineering theories back then, and now I am like a child full of wonder every time I see something new. You don’t even blink an eye at any of it,” Cindy said as she fell back across the narrow mattress.

Kyle patted his sister’s leg as he stood up. “Don’t worry about it. In three months, I’ll be asking you about everything again.”

“Maybe. Probably,” she said as she sat back up. “How did General Kitch take it?”

“Pretty good. She’ll be fine without me, there are plenty of good officers for her to choose from to replace me. McKendree would be my recommendation.”

“I can’t believe you resigned your commission, Kyle. Isn’t that going to be weird for you?”

Kyle nodded. He had been a marine for twenty nine years since he graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy. It was the only life he had known, and to say it would be weird was just scratching the surface.

“I’ll get to spend time with Sara, and Mom and Dad could use my help around the house. Plus, I can travel and see you in Florida and Bill in New York whenever I want a change of scenery.” He held up the small silver disc. “Besides, I’ve already landed another job.”

The door to their room opened and Alex walked in. “Hey, just heard why you were in there with General Kitch. Is it true, sir?”

Kyle nodded. “Yep. Better start getting used to calling me Kyle.”

Alex shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. What about the other part? Are you really going to be Earth’s rep?”

“As long as the Earth Council approves.”

“You are the most famous human in the galaxy and even India will be glad to let you have this job. I bet it’s going to be a ton of reading and a bunch of boring meetings. Glad that you will be there, though,” Alex said.

“Thanks… I think,” Kyle said. “What do you know about the dinner NASA is going to throw?”

“Yeah, I was going to tell you about that. They are setting up the exhibit at Kennedy for us. They are going to have busts put up of Donovan, Nestor, Greene and Jennings. They rest of us are going to have have our photos put up. The plan is that when each of us die, they will replace the photo with a bust. Maybe we should have a Tontine.”

“What would we put up?”

“A bottle of Cognac from 2042?”

“That might work, see what the others think,” said Kyle. “We need to have Lon included in the memorial. Maybe Firtulm and Giric as well.”

Alex nodded. “That’s something we could talk to NASA about. If we have an exhibit for Earth’s first contact, we should have the aliens that were there as part of it.”

“Do you know what they are going to do with the Fletcher?”

“As far as I know it’s going to be kept in service until we can design our own short transports. After that, maybe they will put it as part of the exhibit at Kennedy.”

Kyle walked over to the display console in the room and looked up the itinerary for launch. He had nothing to do with it, but it was a habit after so many years of command. “How are you doing, Alex? Are you going to take some time off when you get back?”

Alex shrugged uncomfortably. “Williams is going to put in for retirement when he gets back and K-man is looking forward to having his own command. I don’t know what I will do.”

“Command?” Kyle turned quickly. “How is he getting a command?”

“General Davies gave him a commission last night after he read the reports from Salazar. K-Man is now Lieutenant Colonel Kiskaliski, or will be once he has Senate confirmation.”

“Definitely the right time to get out,” muttered Kyle. “But back to my original question, what about you?”

“I don’t know. I have a couple of weeks of leave coming, so I might head up to an old cabin in Montana that my Dad owned. Guess I own it now. Fishing always relaxes me. I still have three years until I can retire, so I guess I can serve out the rest of the time quietly, unless you plan on starting any wars in the near future.”

“No more wars, Alex. No more wars.”

The door to the room opened again and Williams stuck his head in. “Sir, we have about an hour before we go to warp. A bunch of us are heading to the bridge to do ‘Kirk’ poses in the Captain’s chair. Come on.”

Cindy jumped to her feet with a little squeal and Alex started out the door. Kyle stood still and watched them leave. A few seconds later, Alex stuck his head back in the door and looked at Kyle. “Are you coming, sir?”

“No, I think I’ll try to grab a quick nap.”

Alex walked back in the room and looked at him silently for a few seconds. “You already have pictures of you in the captain’s chair of the Enterprise, don’t you?”

Kyle smiled and shrugged. “About a dozen or so the day before she was commissioned.”

Alex laughed and turned back to catch up with the others.

Kyle walked to his bunk and sat down on it. He reached down and undid his boots and put them out of the way so Cindy wouldn’t trip on them when she came back. He thought briefly about heading down to the mess and seeing if they had something to eat, but dismissed it as he realized he was more tired than hungry.

Tired. He had been tired for a long time. Since Hyderabad, maybe earlier. He was good at his job, but he hated it. He hated that it had to be done and he hated that someone had to do it. But he had a duty, and he had honored that responsibility.

He pulled the small silver disc back out and looked at it again. This was a new duty, and he would carry it out just as devoutly. He hoped if he were as good at this assignment as he was at being a marine, he would be able to prevent Alex from being in any more wars.

He turned the disc over in his hand as he thought back to what A’nacal had said to him after he had accepted the position: “The Junniji testified before the Higher Council about you. Their considered opinion was that while Ambassador James Thomas was a thoughtful and wise man, you were better suited to sit on the Lower Council. They said you showed mercy in your judgments, both low and high. This element, mercy, is rare among Earthmen; rarer still among most other races. It is mercy that empowers your actions; which allows you to make judgments that others would run from. It is mercy that we need on the Council. You will lead us into a merciful age. That is what I believe and why we need you on the Council.”

A heavy burden.

A sober responsibility.

Kyle realized at that point he would have to resign his commission. He could not in good conscious represent all of Earth while carrying the flag of an individual Nation. He loved the United States and would defend her with his life. He already had. He could also not care for and guide an entire planet when he had a daughter at home that needed him. He had neglected that part of his life for too long and would not accept that behavior any longer.

When he got back home he would have a party with his family to welcome Cindy back from the dead. He would then travel to Kennedy in Florida for the unveiling of the first contact exhibit. Afterwards, his parents and Cindy would join him and Sara hitting the parks in Central Florida. Then off for a trip to Sicily and the ruins of Syracuse. It wasn’t fair to think that he could make up for twenty years of lost time in just one quick burst, but he was going to try. And never again would he fail to be there for her.

He put the silver disc in his pocket as he felt the ship’s main generators kick in. It would be thirty minutes before they warped out and he still needed a nap. He didn’t know what his future held, but he knew that he would face it with more integrity and more honor than he had so far. Kyle closed his eyes and slept peacefully.

Look for Bright Horizons on Audiobook!

A Word From the Author

Thank you for reading Bright Horizons. This was my first novel and the start of this amazing time I have had as a full time novelist. In the last several years, I have had encouragement from all over the world as people have discovered my books. I am proud to have entertained you and look forward to giving you hours and hours of more great adventures.

If you really enjoyed this, I encourage you to leave a review where you got this book. It will let others know that this is a book worth spending a few dollars on and will be of great benefit to me.

The adventure doesn’t end with Earth’s victory over the Iltia’cor. Humanity is now destined to take on a role of power and influence in the galaxy. What comes next, though, is a shock to everyone. Pick up a copy of Eclipse today.

I would also invite you to join my VIP Fan Club. This club is free to join and you will be kept up to date with two e-mails a month concerning new releases, what I am planning in the future, giveaways and promotions. You can head over to my website as well, but the easiest way to stay in touch is through my VIP Fan Club.

Once again, thank you for sharing this adventure with Kyle and his team. It was a great joy for me to get to know these people, and I hope you feel the same. Have fun and keep reading!

Wilson Harp

Continue the adventure with the second book in the Bright Horizons series!

Eclipse

From the day Earth first made contact with aliens, the Otina have been a thorn in their side. It was the Otina who ambushed the treaty ceremony with the Hedali. It was the Otina who disrupted Earth's war effort against the Iltia'cor. And in the year since Earth stood victorious over its powerful enemy, it's become obvious that the Otina have infested the Earth system more than anyone realized.

To make matters worse, Alex Ramirez has been captured by the Otina. The unpredictable and always combative marine has been put in an alien prison. But no prison can hold Alex unless he wants to stay. And he does not want to stay.

As Alex looks for ways of escape, Earth forces are scouring the system looking for clues to where he might be. What they find, however, changes the way that humans will look at the galaxy forever. Mosar, that crucial element that Earth lacks, turns from the answer to the riddle. Humanity will have to set aside the rescue of one of its heroes in order to solve a mystery that threatens their entire race.

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EMP

In a flash of searing light, the world changed. A massive solar flare has crippled the modern world and brought chaos and destruction. David Hartsman is stuck in the remote farm town of his youth on what was expected to be a short visit to check on his ailing parents. While his wife and his daughter are hundreds of miles away at home in Chicago, David must face the dangers associated with his own survival and the pressures of not being with his family. In a worldwide catastrophe, every struggle is personal.

EMP is the dramatic story of one man and his struggle for survival in a world that is falling apart.

The Ghost of Sherwood

King Richard is dead.

The theft of his taxes prompts the newly crowned King John to dispatch Sir Guy to Nottingham in order to retrieve his taxes and hang the bandits of Sherwood Forest.

The Sheriff of Nottingham feels the noose tighten around his own neck as word arrives of King John's orders. The lawman of Nottingham has the king's missing taxes in his lockbox and worse, there are no bandits in the Sherwood. He must survive long enough to escape with the stolen money. The only way he can do that is to play villain in the hunt for the mysterious outlaw, Robin Hood.