Episode 8: Through the Flames
The crowds cheered all around her as Nova Forrester moved with the rest of the processional towards their waiting ship. Argo's launch preparations were not quite complete, but the captain had decided it was worth the risk launching now since the Gamilons knew they had one last battleship the people of Earth could use against them.
Nova's mind wandered to the coming voyage.
"Such a long way… 148,000 light years and back in just one year… I have no idea how we'll ever be able to do it; and with a ship that's older than my grandmother at that…" Nova shook her head, hoping the guy walking next to her didn't notice. "We've got to!" She finally decided. "There's nothing else left. Nothing. This is what we all have to do to see our home live on." Something inside Nova morphed from wavering uncertainty into a concrete truth.
"Nova!"
Her eyes darted around the surrounding crowd, trying to see who called her name.
"Mother?" Nova finally saw the familiar face and hesitated to step out of line to see her, but quick glances ahead of and behind her revealed others stopping to see family or friends before their departure.
She quickly slipped out of the group.
"I didn't think you would be able to make it." Nova looked at both of her parents in surprise, "The hospital let you come, Dad?"
"Pfft!" Mr. Forrester scoffed, "Do you think they could keep me from saying good-bye to my one and only daughter?" Nova's father smiled at her, his tired eyes betraying just how worn out he was from the effects of the radiation poisoning he suffered from. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "They don't even know I'm gone."
"Dad!" Nova exclaimed, mortified, but also hiding a laugh at what her father pulled off. "You have to get back."
"I know, I know," he assured, starting to lean on the cane he'd brought along. "I will. I just… I couldn't miss this."
"Thank you Dad," Nova replied softly and hugged her father.
"Now, Nova," her mother began in her usual didactic tone, "Don't take any unnecessary risks out there; and come back safe, you hear?"
"Yes, Mother," Nova nodded, smiling, "I won't; and I will."
"Okay," Mrs. Forrester bit her lip as tears started to well up in her eyes. "Just – please, please be careful, dear," she sniffled.
"Oh, Mother," Nova hugged the woman tightly. "Don't worry. A year isn't such a long time to be away." She pulled back, "I'll be back before you know it." With a final farewell, she started back towards the ranks of Star Force members.
"Wait!" Mrs. Forrester grabbed her daughter's wrist before she was out of reach. "Take this with you." She handed Nova a tiny pin, and when Nova realized what was in her hand she protested.
"No, no I can't take this, it's –"
"Nova!" Her mother's voice silenced her. "Take it. It will remind you of how much we want you to come back to us."
"Alright." Nova's hand closed on the small object and she looked into her mother's worried eyes. "I'll wear it every day," she smiled, shakily this time, "I promise."
Mrs. Forrester nodded and gestured to the many men and women still walking past, "Go."
Nova gave her parents one final good-bye and stepped back into line, but not without first pinning her mother's tiny, glowing diamond onto her uniform collar.
The stone was from her mother's first engagement ring, the one Nova's biological father gave her mother. Mrs. Forrester would still be wearing the ring if it hadn't been for that first planet bomb that hit their house in Texas all those years ago. Nova and her mother were out shopping that day and her father had taken a day off to see to some repairs that needed doing at the house.
When Nova and her mother returned home, they'd found a smoking crater and the remains of what was once their home.
A year later, still grieving the loss of her husband, Nova's mother met Robert Forrester. The year after that, they were married and Nova assumed the last name of her step-father, though her first father's name – Lucas Tremaine – would never be far from her heart.
The line of crewmen and women had thinned and most of the others who stepped out to say their good-byes had already made it back to the group. Even though she had to wait a bit longer to see the inside of the great ship again, she was glad to be able to see most of her fellow crewmen up ahead. Most of them looked older than her, by at least three or four years – and in some cases, thirty or forty. Not everyone coming on this trip was green - thankfully.
As she came closer to Argo's boarding ramp Nova couldn't help but think, "Just how many of us will come back from this trip?"
"Mark! Mark! Come over here!" the voice of young Jordy Venture beckoned his older brother out of line.
"What are you doing here?" Mark bent down on one knee so that he could be on eye-level with his brother. "They let you out of school?"
"Oh yes," Jordy answered. "Everyone got out of school early today so we could watch you leave." The boy smiled broadly, then his face fell, "I wish you didn't have to go."
"I know, Jordy. I wish I didn't have to go either, but the future of the whole world is in our hands, and we have to do our best to see that you and everyone else is safe here on Earth. That means we have to leave for a while." He paused, then added, "But we'll be back. Don't you worry."
"Yeah, I know," Jordy replied matter-of-factly. "I just wish it didn't have to take so long. A whole year is going to take forever."
At this Mark couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, Jordy, a year'll go by much faster than you think it will."
"If you say so," the boy acquiesced, "but make sure to bring me back something, okay?"
"Okay, Jordy. I'll bring you something from Iscandar."
The boy's face lit up, and he let out a triumphant, "Oh yeah!"
"But until I get back you have to look out for Mom and Dad, okay."
"Okay. I will."
"Speaking of Mom and Dad –" Mark began.
"Jordy! Don't run ahead of us like that," Mrs. Venture called out from the crowd.
"But Mark was gonna miss us if I didn't," the boy protested.
Mark's mother pushed through the sea of people until she and her husband stood with their sons. "Well… just don't do that again," she gently chided the boy who nodded reluctantly before looking back at his big brother.
"Have a good trip," Jordy threw his small arms around Mark's neck and Mark hugged his brother back.
"I will." Mark looked his brother in the eye and said soberly, "Don't let anyone say we're not coming home, Jordy."
The boy looked back with stalwart eyes and nodded in grim determination, "I won't."
Venture gave his brother one last quick hug and stood to bid his parents farewell.
The entire ship was alive with activity as everyone prepared for launch. Crewmen familiarized themselves with their stations and went through all of their pre-launch checklists meticulously before pronouncing their responsibilities complete.
The Argo resonated with everyone's excitement and anxiety.
The underground cities were in dire distress. They'd moved from several dozen feet below the surface to several hundred. Already the radiation was leaking through more of the Earth's crust, and anyone unfortunate enough to come in contact with the smallest piece of it felt its effects. Several hundred thousand people were in treatment for radiation poisoning, and there was not a single person onboard the Argo who didn't know someone suffering the poison's ill effects.
Radiation in small proportions was not uncommon before the bombardment, and was easily tolerated by the human body, but the radiation they were plagued with now was more plentiful and of a more concentrated sort than what they were used to. As a result, mankind was forced to either try to shield themselves from the falling bombs, or hide beneath the earth.
Only one nation was successful in protecting itself - because of its technical innovation and small size. The Israeli Union forged a shield that was even now holding back the dreaded radiation, but that shield was slowly shrinking. Now, it could only protect the capitol of Jerusalem, and some of the smaller surrounding cities. Many fled there seeking refuge, but it was only a matter of time before the shield failed.
The crewmen and women of the Argo hailed from all over the globe, a mix of nations, cultures, religions, and languages, all united by the singular goal of bringing home a cure that might save everyone they held dear from death.
It was with these heavy thoughts that every member of the crew went about their duties. They pressed on, pushed forward by the knowledge that their home needed them.
When the alarms began to ring an hour before the ship was set to launch, they set aside their fear and took up their courage.
"Captain! A message from the EDF," communications officer Homer Glitchman announced. "Gamilon missile are headed our way, bigger than we've ever seen. ETA is ten minutes."
Captain Avatar didn't say a word for several painful seconds. He surveyed the bridge, then to Homer he said, "Thank you." The old man stood up behind his station and addressed his officers,"Crew of the Argo." He stopped. These faces - the faces of men and women much too young to be officers - belonged to the ones he was about to embark on this journey with. He hoped he would see them all at the end of the journey. "Man your battle stations and prepare to launch!"
"But Captain, we're not ready –" one of the crewmen, Christopher Eager by name, started to protest but was cut short by the captain's steely, determined gaze.
Avatar continued, "We launch now, or we don't launch at all."
The bridge filled with solemn knowing. To hold off the launch would likely doom them never to launch at all.
Men and women flew around the ship working as fast as they could. The most important task of their young lives lay at their feet – getting this ship off the ground in less than ten minutes time.
Nova's mind, previously clouded with thoughts of leaving her mother and ailing step-father alone, now focused entirely on doing her part to make sure they all made it through the next eleven minutes alive.
As she worked she prayed.
"They've finally found us…" she couldn't help but give an involuntary shudder at the thought. The ones who tried to slaughter them all now knew precisely where they were and that the Argo would move soon. "Help us to do this right, Father. Because if we don't…" Nova stopped for just an instant, frozen by the idea of their failure. Then, in her disquiet, she remembered what the captain said at the christening ceremony, "But You have promised that the earth shall remain until the end of the world comes. And this is not how the end of the world is prophesied to be. So I can only think that we will make it through this." A smile spread across her face involuntarily. "Yes…" she thought, "Yes, Father, I believe we will make it, perhaps by the skin of our last few teeth, but we will make it."
With a new confidence, she dove back into her work, her fear melting slowly away.
"These people are all crazy," thought Mark as he prepped his station for launch. As the chief navigator he had to make sure his timing was perfect in the upcoming launch, or else he could end up blowing them all to tiny pieces before they got a chance to leave the atmosphere.
The global power network charging up Argo's engines for the first time was at its limit. It had run so hard for so long that it would fail within a few hours, so their launch, though early, was well-timed.
The network was receiving energy from every country that would lend it to them: the American Union, Canadian States, Central American Territories, European Union, Russia, China, the Arab States, Israeli Union, African Alliance, even what remained of southern Asia and Australia were sending everything they could spare.
Even though there were so many supporters of this effort, there remained dissenters, those who felt the journey to Iscandar was a useless endeavor - that Earth was doomed anyway. Some had gone so far as to commit acts of sabotage against the effort, destroying power relays in several countries, making organized strikes against the stations. It was so bad in some places that the stations were forced to post armed guards to stop the attacks.
One of the areas most effected by the terrorism was Tokyo, Japan, where Mark and his family lived for the past several years.
"Why would you want to try to stop this ship from taking off if there were even the barest hint of a hope for us all?" Mark shook his head in disgust, "What I wouldn't give to make sure that Jordy and my parents could live on Earth as they should, on the surface - not staring up at dirt and metal…"
Derek stared at his station for just a moment, the reality of where he was and what he was about to do finally sinking in.
"I'm here," he let out a long breath. The excitement trapped inside him was still building despite the coming danger. He knew he might be plastered into a puddle in a few minutes, but that didn't move him. Feeling the form of the chair, the controls under the guidance of his hands, seeing the dark viewport in front of him, the very one that he knew would soon display the surface of his home. These things moved him.
"I'm really here," he gritted his teeth and thought. "Just you try to shoot us down!" His mind echoed in defiance towards their absent enemies. "Try it and we'll show you what we really are."
"ETA eight minutes on those missiles," Homer's voice broke into Wildstar's thoughts.
"Eight minutes," Derek thought over and over as he checked and rechecked everything on his list. When he was done, he sat silently tapping his fingers on his armrest as all of his pent-up energy sent his heart hammering inside his chest.
After what seemed an eternity the captain announced, "Begin the launch countdown at two minutes."
A chorus of "Yes, sir"s went up and the mechanical voice of the ship's computer began counting down from one hundred and twenty agonizing seconds.
At one hundred seconds to go the captain ordered, "Disconnect the power network."
"Aye, sir," Orion replied. "It's been disconnected, Captain. Energy output for the engine is starting to rise." At ninety seconds the announcement, "Energy output at twelve percent," came to everyone's chagrin.
There was silence on the bridge. One small voice finally dared to speak, "At this rate we'll never be ready in time."
Avatar replied with a firm, "Be quiet."
From that instant onward the only sound anyone heard on the bridge was the ominous hum of energy building in the newly dubbed "Wave Motion Engine."
"Twenty percent." Orion announced, glancing nervously at the countdown to the missiles' arrival. Only four minutes remained.
"Let's just go now," Venture suddenly exclaimed, his anxiety finally getting the better of him. "We can make it –"
"No," Avatar replied, his gaze boring into Mark's. Venture instantly regretted his moment of weakness as the captain continued, "If we took off now our engine would sputter and die, and so would we."
"Thirty percent," Orion said, abruptly halting the confrontation. All eyes were glued to the chief engineer as he stared at the power indicator, beads of sweat running down his face into his white beard.
Thirty seconds remained, and still the power level sat stubbornly at seventy percent.
The tension on the bridge thickened to suffocating levels. Only three seemed unshaken by the engines slow start: the Captain, Nova Forrester, and the curious science officer, Stephen Sandor who sat on the far right of the bridge, staring intently at his own stations' readouts.
Mark felt like he would explode if he didn't do something.
They were down to fifteen seconds.
Mark reached out to lay a hand on his controls when Orion's voice burst through the room, "Engine output at ninety, no one hundred percent!"
"Venture, take off!" the Captain ordered.
"Yes, sir!" Mark exclaimed and with shaking hands pushed the ship into its first upward thrust.
The ground rumbled and shook as the great ship ascended from the poisoned ground, leaving in its wake a hole in the earth where it lay dormant for over two hundred years. It didn't take them long to reach the lower atmosphere.
"Enemy missiles at two hundred thousand mega-meters and closing," Nova announced, watching the deadly blips move closer and closer on her radar screen.
"Wildstar, prepare the forward gun turrets to fire," Avatar ordered.
"Yes, Captain," Derek replied, itching to shoot something now that he knew he wasn't going to die on the ground.
Derek relayed orders to the men manning the turrets. Within ten seconds the main guns pointed squarely into the path of the oncoming missiles.
"One hundred eighty thousand mega-meters," Nova reported.
"Fire on my mark," Avatar said, leaning forward, bracing himself on his console.
Derek gave a sharp nod, ready to let the enemy have his best shot.
They waited.
And waited.
They could see the outer shell of the first incoming missile with their naked eyes. It was bearing down on them, coming so fast it looked like a humongous train was bearing down on them.
"Now!" Avatar ordered. "Fire!"
"All guns, fire!" Derek relayed.
Strands of brilliant light streaked through the atmosphere towards the first missile, striking it head-on. Then the rest of the swarm descended on them.
"Argo! Respond!" General Stone, Commander Singleton's aide shouted into the comm unit until he was red in the face. "Why don't they reply?" the General asked Singleton angrily. "Are they dead? We shouldn't have sent them. We –"
"Quiet, General," Singleton ordered. "Have a little faith in the abilities of Captain Avatar. And be patient."
Stone glared at the communicator, looking like he might kick it.
"Come on, Argo," thought Singleton, "Prove me right."
An image sputtered to life in the middle of the throne room in the Palace on Iscandar.
Starsha leapt up from her seat and ran to it.
The Eratites managed to use the Iscandarium core to finish charging their new engine. When the energy from their world proved insufficient, the core took up the slack and provided them with the rest of what they needed.
The images that met the young queen's eyes were intense. The ship was being assaulted by gigantic missiles - of Gamilon craftsmanship. The first missile closed in. A second later, it was cut down by the ship's guns.
Starsha's eyes brightened as she saw the bravery of this group of Eratites whom she hoped to meet soon. Then she saw the host of missiles that followed behind the first one and she gasped.
Every head in the EDF headquarters was fixed on the screen displaying the location of the Argo. The tiny blip blinked steadily, then disappeared. The whole staff was about to despair when that same blip suddenly reappeared, beyond the Earth's atmosphere.
"EDF Headquarters, this is the Argo," the voice of Homer Glitchman rang through the radio clearly. "All enemy missiles have been destroyed. I repeat, all enemy missiles have been destroyed."
A great cheer rose all through the room and traveled through the entire building.
Over the next several hours, the whole world rejoiced as news of the ship's successful departure spread around the globe.