Episode 5: Into the Land of Trouble
Sweet darkness embraced Gairen. The stone floor radiated with an icy chill that rattled his old bones. "War-bringer," he whispered. "Grant vision to these sightless eyes."
A faint hum shook the air, and the cold marble stiffened his ancient fingers.
"You send me grievous dreams. I come to you for answers." He bowed his head to the ground, and his staff clacked against the floor. "Heilel, enlighten me."
Gold.
Light.
Death.
Gairen gasped and recoiled. The floor screeched beneath his knobbed knees as he slid back and planted his staff's tip. He pulled himself up and rushed from the temple to the throne room.
Gairen struggled to push the door open. A rush of air kissed his face as he stumbled into his king's presence.
"Prince Zordar." Gairen fell to one knee and bowed his head.
"High priest," the Prince's voice rumbled like a herd of mighty horses. "Approach."
Gairen rose and counted his steps. Fifty paces from the throne, he stopped.
"What news?" said the Prince.
"The War-bringer—he granted me a revelation," Gairen said.
From around the throne Princess Invidia and Prime Minister Sabera whispered at each other with all the civility of a jackal pack.
"You doubt my vision?" Gairen said.
"No, high priest!" Invidia replied. "I welcome your gift—even if Sabera does not."
Black and white—two edges of the same sword. Gairen hid a smirk.
"I accept what I can lay my hands on," Sabera countered. "When one of these revelations comes to pass, I will give your assertions more weight."
"What oracle have you for us?" Zordar said.
"The Diviner—she burns with the fire of destruction. Torbuk's forces… Doom awaits them–"
"Doom," Sabera scoffed. "Torbuk will prevail, as always."
"From the ashes, she will rise." Flashes of the vision returned. "On golden wings—among the stars she soars. And…" He pointed toward the image that swam in his mind's eye. "A ship goes with her."
"Ship?" Invidia's boots clicked on the hard floor as she approached.
"Old, battered." He shivered. "It shines with a star's fierce light." He covered his face. "Gatlantis… Great Prince, it will–"
"Enough of this nonsense." Sabera cut around Invidia in two swift strides. "Vision or no, the Diviner will fall." She leaned in, and her breath warmed Gairen's cheek. "Speak of this again, and I will see your tenure cut short. Remember your predecessor's fate, old man."
He stepped back; his staff clacked. "I speak only Heilel's wisdom."
"Sabera is right, Seer. If Torbuk fails, I will see to the Diviner's demise," said Zordar. "She will fall."
"And the ship?" Gairen asked.
"Another will fell it in my stead," replied the Prince. "He is a fierce hunter. His tenacity knows no match."
Dread gnawed at Gairen. "If I may, great Prince. Who is this man of war in whom you would place your trust?"
"Return to your meditations, high priest."
"Get in the shelter—before the dome fails!" Sergeant Saito Knox herded two dozen terrified analysts through a thick door. "Lock yourselves in. We'll come back for you." He stepped out and slammed the vault shut as he cursed their attackers.
Another man, from one of the nearby buildings stumbled toward Knox.
Silence rang in the Sergeant's ears as his helmet filtered out another explosion.
The man in the hall lost his footing and careened away, sucked toward a breech in the dome.
Knox fired his jetpack and zoomed toward him. He grabbed and missed. The scientist rushed into the airless Brumis wilderness, dead.
Knox shook his head and gritted his teeth as he flew back into the dome and landed near a crumbling wall. The ground rocked with more explosions. He darted to the nearest intact building.
"Nagakura!" Knox hunkered behind one wall with five of his squad.
"Sarge." She stared down her scope. Enemy fire pelted the window ledge, and she ducked. "What's the plan?"
"Get them before they get us," Knox said. "And keep them away from the vault."
"Aye, Sarge." Nagakura grinned. "I can smell the fear rolling off those slimewads already."
"I think that's your air filter failing."
Nagakura socked Knox's shoulder.
"Tanks incoming," another Marine said. "Got thirty on the radar right now." He hefted a small computer. "But more keep rolling over those dunes."
"Split up. Stay low and take them out one at a time." He looked at each Marine. "We're getting out of this, even if I have to crush those alien scum with my bare hands."
"Sarge?" Nagakura tapped his shoulder.
"Yup?"
"Don't get yourself blown away, all right?"
"I'll try, kid, but I can't promise anything."
The Argo dropped out of warp just outside Brumis-space.
"Incoming!" Nova said. "Fighters at twelve o'clock."
"Get an ID on those things." Derek stood and leaned on the captain's station console.
Fighters swooped past, and the ship rocked.
"Four direct hits," Sandor said.
"Radar's got a reading!" Nova said. "They're—they're Cometine! Scorpion-class."
Derek froze. Just like the destroyers we met coming home from Iscandar. Nausea hit him. Is this my fault? I ordered us to investigate last year. Did they come after Earth because of it? "Send out the Tigers." He choked back the heat rising in his throat. "Let's take down as many of those planes as we can."
"Tiger Lead is away," Nova said ninety seconds later.
Derek sat and pulled up the in-cockpit video for every pilot.
Conroy dodged the enemy. Even though the Scorpions could outrace the Tigers, they couldn't out fly them. Each pilot took down at least three Cometine planes, and within five minutes, Argo's path was clear.
"Capitol ships inbound," said Nova. "Radar says Karakrum-class." She sent a schematic to Derek's console.
They're huge. Derek eyed the ship's main guns. Those could blow us away with two or three good hits.
"Homer, get a message to Commander Singleton—marked urgent. Tell him… we know who attacked Earth."
"I've got two rockets and a handful of grenades," said Nagakura, her back to the trench wall. "What about you?"
"Two and five," Knox replied. "Let's make em count."
Tanks rumbled closer.
"Ready?" Knox held up a grenade.
Nagakura pulled the pin on hers just as a dark undercarriage rolled over the trench.
They lobbed both grenades and hit the ground as the tank exploded five seconds later.
Nagakura peered over the trench lip. "More incoming. A lot more—at least thirty-five."
"Set for a rocket barrage," Knox said over the radio. "If we go, we're taking as many of those dirt bags with us as we can." He gritted his teeth as he loaded his rocket launcher and took aim at the oncoming enemy. "On my mark."
Ten. Nine. Eight. The count wound down to zero.
"Fire!"
Rockets streaked into the tanks, and debris shards pelted the ground.
"Round two!" Knox ordered.
He looked down the trench and saw several men out of rockets.
"Fire!"
A two-foot metal bar zipped past Knox's head, and more remains showered the trench.
"I'm out, Sarge," said one man over the radio.
"Williams and me have two grenades left," said another.
"Stay low," Knox said. "Get to another group with ammo."
"Heading down the trench, Sarge," Williams replied.
"We're out too," said Nagakura.
"How many rockets we have?" Knox asked the group.
Silence.
"Then it's grenades all the way." He unhooked one from his belt. "I don't care if we have to throw rocks at them, but we're not letting those crazies take this patch of ground."
The squad cheered.
"Stay covered. Hit as many tanks as you can."
With every toss, Knox imagined the enemy's ranks shrinking. He tugged the pin from his last grenade and flicked it into the dirt. Three. Four. Five. He chucked the explosive. It clung to a tank twenty feet away. Two seconds after it exploded, another one rolled over its dead husk.
Guess this is it. He jumped out of the trench and gritted his teeth as he shook a fist at the enemy. "You'll take this place over my cold, dead body!"
The tank barrel swung toward Knox. He stared into its black maw.
"Get down!" Nagakura shouted.
Cheers erupted over the radio as the tank exploded. A plane with EDF insignia zoomed overhead.
"Way to go, Sarge! Our call got through! We're gonna make it!" shouted several men.
"Nothing more beautiful than a friendly face." Knox grinned.
A small craft settled nearby in a cloud of dust. Two men stepped out, both in white uniforms, one with red markings, the other with blue.
"We heard your signal." The one in red approached first. "I'm Dash, combat chief aboard the Argo, and this is our XO, Sandor."
"You taking us off this rock?" Knox climbed out of the trench, Nagakura and the rest of the squad close behind.
The XO nodded.
Knox held out his hand to the man in blue. "Thanks. You really saved our hides."
The XO took Knox's hand with a grip much stronger than he anticipated. "Glad to help."
"Hey," Nagakura said. "The Argo? Isn't that–"
"You guys saved Earth a year or so back! What're you doing slumming out here?" Knox asked.
"It's a long story," said the XO. "For now, let's get you and your squad back to the ship."
"Incoming message—from Commander Singleton," Homer said. "Crew of the Argo, in light of the new evidence presented because of your efforts at Brumis, the EDF council has determined that the Argo and all her crew are reinstated, effective immediately. Your mission: find this new enemy and stop them." He smirked. "Sounds like they believe us now."
Sandor and Dash stepped off the bridge elevator with another man wearing fatigues. Derek gave him a nod and offered a fist-to-heart salute. The Marine replied in kind.
"Sergeant Saito Knox, Captain," he said. "All those scientists, my squad, and I owe you our lives. If there's anything you need, we're at your service."
"Thank you." Derek nodded. "I'm sure I'll take you up on that offer before this is over."
"Not sure I know what you mean, Captain," Knox said.
"The forces that attacked Brumis—they're heading for Earth. We spotted two scout ships in the past week and a half."
"Another message, Wildstar," Homer said. "The Commander says they're sending two fleets from Saturn here to Brumis. They want us to stay until they arrive."
"Maintain orbit," Derek said. "And keep an eye on the radar and sensors. Let me know if anything shows up before the fleets arrive."
"Yes, Sir," the officers replied.
Dash ushered the Marine off the bridge as Derek sat in the captain's chair and watched the bridge disappear as he ascended to Avatar's old cabin.
He left the captain's chair and went to the wide viewport. Below, Brumis' barren surface passed. The ruined dome sat shattered with a narrow trench dug around the breached side.
At least no one's losing their careers because of me… He laid a hand against the cold pane. It fogged with each breath. But how many of us won't come back from this…?
Derek roamed the mess hall, tray in hand as he looked for an empty seat. He spotted one wedged in the far corner and headed for it. Two other officers started toward the same table, but when they saw Derek, they nodded and found another spot.
He slid into the narrow booth. Something resembling chicken occupied one corner of his tray. Two servings of vegetables and one pasta helping filled the other three sections.
As he picked at his food, the room spun. He concentrated on his food and took deep breaths. His vision steadied.
If only we knew where to go from here. He cut into the hunk of chicken and tried a piece. Where will we go once the fleets arrive? He poked at his veggies and ate a soggy carrot. Got to rotate out KP.
Derek finished eating and got up, half-empty tray in hand. He headed for the return line.
"Feldmann?" Derek stopped as he passed the pilot's table. "Anyone sitting here?" He pointed to the chair opposite Dathan.
The pilot shook his head. "Knock yourself out."
"How're the Tigers treating you and the other newbies?" Derek asked.
"You'd never know we weren't Star Force," Dathan said. He stared at a limp green bean. "Conroy's a good squad leader. He doesn't put up with much—though I heard about the inflatable life-raft incident." Dathan smirked.
Derek laughed. "It's been a while since the trip to Iscandar."
"It's all I heard about back at Luna II. Everyone talked about that trip."
"So, what made you decide to come with us this time? We were mutineers until a few hours ago, you know."
Dathan nodded "Didn't matter to us. We knew if the Argo was heading out against orders, they had good reason for it. Conroy would never join you if that weren't the case."
"I looked at the stats for the engagement earlier. You had six more kills than Conroy." Derek leaned in. "Call me crazy, but from watching you fly… Why didn't you challenge him for Lead?"
Dathan poked a shriveled carrot, then stabbed it. "Conroy's a good man, Captain, but he lets his conscience get in his way sometimes. I know he avoided kill shots on your previous trip, but this enemy isn't like the Gamilons—they fought for their home—for the ones they loved. This… menace… We just don't know. I'd rather be safe than sorry as the expression goes, and letting things be causes a lot fewer problems than shaking them up."
Derek nodded. "So, what brought you to Luna II? Clearly, you're an excellent pilot."
"Research job," Dathan replied. "I got on with a company during the economic recovery. They needed someone to go to Luna II as an analyst, so I volunteered."
"Jack-of-all-trades," Derek said.
"And master of some," Dathan added.
Derek's comm chirped. "Fleets are here," he said. "Gotta go."
Dathan nodded. "See you later."
"Captain Yamanami, I hereby transfer command of this area over to you, per EDF directive," Derek said to the dark-haired man on the viewscreen.
Yamanami saluted, and the screen flicked off.
Derek nodded to Mark. "Take us out."
They jumped to warp and dropped out just past the solar system limits. A few hours later, the night crew took over.
Derek sat in the captain's chair in silence as everyone gave their replacements a short briefing and then headed off to the mess hall or to bed. For over an hour he stared out the front viewport. His jumbled thoughts whispered, muttered, then swelled to a roar.
"Vasquez," he said to the helmsman. "Steady on course until I tell you otherwise."
"But, Captain, we don't have–"
"I know," Derek interrupted. "Just maintain your current heading."
"Yes, Sir," Vasquez replied.
Derek left the bridge.
When he stepped into the elevator, the chill of space washed over him, and he tucked his hands in his pockets. Cold still bit his gloved fingers.
Derek stepped out into a quiet hall and headed for the place he often visited on the trip to Iscandar—the observation deck.
He entered the half-dome and leaned against the freezing metal rail.
Stars inched by.
So much waits… just out of sight… His hands trembled. He folded them, and the shaking lessened but didn't stop. Where do we go now? What do we do? I brought us here, but for what? He sighed. At least we rescued Knox's crew.
It was two minutes past twenty-one hundred.
With another heavy sigh, Derek headed to his quarters where he changed and flopped into bed.
Why does nothing feel right?
He lay awake and stared at the upper bunk's bare underside until his imagination conjured memories of the blackout: trains screamed into each other, lights snuffed out, people fell silent.
A headache throbbed at the base of his skull. Derek rolled to one side and closed his eyes, but the worst image flooded in—that alien ship. It came at him. He stumbled back, face covered with trembling hands.
Haven't we been through enough? No more! Just let us live in peace!
A rustle jolted him out of the waking nightmare. Derek shot up. "Ouch!" He rubbed his stinging forehead as the bunk rang from the impact. "Stop that!" he snapped at the Iscandarian plant.
Silence.
Derek settled and pulled the covers over his head, but no matter what he did, his mind wouldn't stop buzzing.
Another rustle.
He poked his head out, snagged a dirty shirt from the end of the bed and tossed it over the plant. It quieted.
The silence thickened, and he felt he might drown in it. At twenty-three hundred, Derek gave up. He threw on his clothes and headed back to the bridge.
When he stepped off the elevator, a flurry of activity stunned him.
"Captain!" Vasquez turned around in his chair. "We called you six times in the last half an hour!"
Derek checked his comm. Dead. He groaned and shoved it back in his pocket.
"What is it? What's going–" He froze.
Golden light poured from the astro compass in the center of the bridge.
"A heading," Derek whispered, his eyes focused on the compass. "Prepare for warp. We have our course."
Episode 5 Notes:
Editing pass completed on 8/15/2022
The title for Episode 5 is taken from Isaiah 30:6:
The burden of the beasts of the south: into the land of trouble and anguish, from whence come the young and old lion, the viper and fiery flying serpent, they will carry their riches upon the shoulders of young asses, and their treasures upon the bunches of camels, to a people that shall not profit them.
Author's Note:
All right! This week has been a roller-coaster, but I've finally made it. This chapter was a lot of fun to write—as they all are—but this one saw a few new characters introduced that I was excited to finally get to see and work with. Next week, we're off to Tales again for Peter Conroy's entry, "Flight."
Great to see everyone, and, as always,
Happy reading and writing,
*dtill359
