Establish a colony over the course of a year, move on to the next planet. Only leave early if we discover sapient life or the environment is too hazardous, Ethan recited in his head. It didn’t have the same poetic flow to it that the actual document did, but the points were simple enough.
When he had finished reading through the mission statement rather hastily, Rhodes tapped the display and brought up duty rosters. This, again, was something Ethan had seen a hundred times before.
As a pilot, he did not – nor did he need to – have any vested interest in the inner workings of the ship. The extent of his knowledge regarding Voyager Dawn’s operation was rudimentary: the EcoDome supplied the ship with fresh food; there were a number of prefab buildings in the cargo bay to jumpstart the colony; and a Jumper shuttle would arrive in three months to deliver the next wave of passengers.
But that was how he liked it. Ethan had known an engineer who became slightly too familiar with the intricacies of the ship, and retired soon after he realized how many ways the ship could catastrophically fail at any given moment.
“Dismissed.” Ethan was jolted back into reality by the captain’s command. Ford tapped him roughly on the shoulder and squeezed past him into the aisle. Ethan got up a moment later.
“I’m going to go check out who the new recruit is,” he said to Mason, “I’d like to know who I’m flying around with.”
“Got it,” Mason said, “Let me know when you find out.”
*
The armory that served as a rear entrance to the barracks was cold and dark, much like the tools that were stored within. Rows of Switchback rifles and Longsword shotguns lined the walls, while a central display held a considerable number of pistols and grenades. Ethan had often wondered what the point of so many guns was. There was the odd nexacor attack, and Rebs surfaced from time to time, but even Dawn Four had not demanded the use of high explosives.
Ignoring the imposing sights around him, Ethan approached the registry and accessed Omicron’s file. Mason, Ford, and Kyle were there, as he expected, but what he did not expect was the fourth member. It was a she, not a he, and she was beautiful, even in her drab military portrait, though there was also something slightly intimidating about her gaze. Ethan checked the file for a name. Rebecca Winters.
“Having fun?” Ethan whipped around to see Winters standing behind him, strapping on a substantial amount of armor.
“Oh, hey,” he said dumbly, “didn’t see you there. No… no, I was seeing who the new squad member was. I guess that’s you?” A sudden urge to grab the nearest gun and shoot himself came over Ethan, but he held his ground.
“You’re Omicron squad?” Winters asked.
“Yeah. Well, no. I’m their pilot. Your pilot. I’m Ethan.” He held out his hand. Winters looked at it, then at him, and did nothing.
“Rebecca,” she said.
“So… is this your first colony?” At this point Ethan’s mind had failed, but for some reason his mouth continued to move.
“Yes,” Rebecca answered stiffly, “not my first tour of duty, though.”
“Where were you before?”
Rebecca hesitated. “Achilles,” she said, “I was stationed in Blackhaven.” Ethan wracked his brain for any knowledge of Achilles. The planet had been in the news, he knew, but for what, he couldn’t remember.
“Ah,” he offered. “Well, welcome to Voyager Dawn.”
Rebecca nodded. “Thanks.” She turned, grabbed a rifle off the rack, and motioned toward the exit. “I’ve got to go. Guard duty.”
“Yeah, no problem. See you later,” Ethan said. Without another word, Rebecca headed out in the direction of the civilian sector. Ethan watched her go, slightly mesmerized, then left in the direction of the hangar.
The Creature
“I have heard whispers amongst the crew that this Hunt will be more dangerous than we first anticipated.”
“What causes their concern?”
“They suspect the Human fleet will be quick to follow once their ship falls into distress.”
“Their fleet is too widespread and disinterested in this lone colony ship to respond. This Voyager Dawn is the only Human ship to pass through the Threshold. It is isolated from its allies.”
Diamond Lead was the first to transport a marine squad into the forest for reconnaissance, and a loud round of applause saw them out of the hangar. The captain cut it short, however, instantly ordering the crew back to work in the assembly of the perimeter fence.
The fence was the first step of construction prior to the colony being established. It was a massive thing, five meters tall and extending a hundred meters from Voyager Dawn in every direction. With the engineering crew still performing post-landing checks across the ship, and the marines on guard duty while the fence was erected, it fell to the pilots to actually complete the task.
Ethan often wished during this phase of a colony’s establishment that he had read the contract more carefully when boarding Dawn; he had missed the part assigning him to “non-professional work” whenever it was deemed necessary. At least, he thought, having marines on guard duty meant Mason was nearby.
“Why aren’t the civvies doing this?” Ethan wondered aloud as Mason ambled by, looking understandably bored.
Mason shook himself awake and considered the question. “Because they’re civvies,” he said. “Not like back in the good old days when it took guts to be a colonist. Now they’re all… plain.”
Ethan yanked on the control stick of his forklift, dropping a fencepost into place. “They’re pretty adventurous,” he remarked. On more than one occasion he had seen colonists take unauthorized trips into the wilderness, and he could never blame them. After being locked aboard a luxury-free ship for three months, anyone would be stir crazy.
“Maybe,” Mason admitted, “but they’re not frontiersmen. You think the old type of colonists would’ve set up a beauty parlor on the ship? Or a gourmet restaurant?”
“It’s hardly gourmet…” Ethan muttered, and loaded another post onto his lift.
“Still a restaurant. These people want to live in the Core. Just don’t want to live in the actual Core, so they come out here.”
Ethan grunted his agreement as the forklift began spinning its wheels. Mason rushed closer to help free it. As the machine gained traction again, Mason nodded across its hood. Ethan followed his gaze toward Rebecca, who was standing a few dozen meters away, stock still and keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the forest beyond the clearing.
“What do you think of her?” Mason asked, cocking an eyebrow in silent judgement. “Think she’s a robot or something?”
“She seems all right,” Ethan said defensively, a little too quickly.
Mason shot him a sly glance.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Mason said. He kicked Ethan’s forklift in the tire. “Come on. Don’t want to be out here all day.”
*
They worked well into the afternoon, only coming to a stop as the roar of Diamond One’s shuttle reached their ears. Everyone scrambled back towards the ship, eager to hear what the expedition had uncovered. Rhodes, who had just come out to survey the pilots’ progress, reluctantly backed down against the veritable tidal wave of soldiers and pilots surging towards the elevator.
Diamond’s counterpart squad, Gamma, had barely made it past the hangar doors when they were assaulted by curious crew members. Gamma leader was the first to speak, activating his helmet’s loudspeaker to be heard over the crowd.
“We’re not allowed to say anything until we’ve been debriefed. You know the drill,” he said, much to everyone’s disappointment. “The sooner you get out of our way, the sooner we’ll be debriefed. Then we’ll tell you everything.” The swarm parted at the words, allowing Gamma squad through to the briefing room.
Rhodes appeared at the end of the hall, on an intercept course with them.
“It’s clear we’re not going to get any more work done today,” he said wearily to th
e crowd, “so you’re all dismissed. Construction starts again tomorrow at oh-six-hundred.”
They dispersed with excited chatter, marines headed in every direction and pilots headed for Diamond Lead.
Diamond Lead was Ethan’s first squadron leader, a veteran pilot by the name of Moira Goodman. Unlike many of her compatriots, her lengthy record aboard a number of colony ships made her extremely relaxed when it came to bending the rules, and would no doubt be more forthcoming regarding Gamma Squad’s discoveries.
Moira had anticipated the onslaught and motioned for them to follow her into the pilot’s barracks, carrying with her a black canvas bag. Once they had all gathered inside, she placed the bag on the nearest bunk and turned to address them.
“If any one of you breathes a word to anyone regarding what I’m about to show you, I will make your life a living hell. And those of you who have been in my squadron know how well I can do that,” she threatened. The silence that followed served as an answer.
Slowly, Moira unzipped the satchel and began to reach inside. But the contents had other ideas. A furry caramel-colored head poked out of the opening, glancing quickly around the room with eyes more suited to a much larger animal. The creature, whatever it was, decided the environment was safe enough to enter and hopped from the bag to a perch on the bunk above it in the blink of an eye.
“Little guy came right up to the huey,” Moira explained, “Got into the MREs before I managed to catch it.”
“It doesn’t seem frightened,” a pilot in the back of the room observed.
“Well, like I said, it came to me.” The animal jumped off its perch at her words, landing on her shoulder with a gymnast’s finesse. It chirped again, rubbing its head against hers. “Anyway,” she continued, “I’m calling him Waffle. He went straight for the breakfast MREs and ate all the waffles.” Waffle cooed at the sound of his name and curled into a ball atop her shoulder. Moira petted him gently before directing her attention at the pilots again. “We went through the cleaning room, which means he’s safe, but this still probably breaches a dozen health codes, so you keep your lips zipped. He’ll stay in my bunk until I can find a good way to introduce him to the captain.” The pilots quickly made a pact to keep silent on the matter.
Ethan was no stickler for the rules when it came to cuddly creatures, and considering he had a week to go before he could explore, he had no reservations about having an extra form of entertainment onboard.
He did find Waffle’s temperament towards the crew curious, however. Its utter lack of fear told him one of two things: either it was a dangerous predator and had nothing to fear, or it was used to dealing with predators as dangerous as humans. Both possibilities gave Ethan pause regarding his impending excursion into the forest.
*
The sound of something scratching at the barracks door woke Ethan late that night. He rolled over to see Waffle desperately clawing the metal barrier between him and freedom. More inclined to stay on Moira’s good side than to let the animal loose, Ethan tried to ignore the pitiful escape attempt, burying his head in his pillow.
But then Waffle made a new noise. It was almost a growl, pitifully weak but undoubtedly vicious. It prompted Ethan to get up, suddenly concerned that Waffle would go ballistic and attack the sleeping pilots. As soon as Waffle saw Ethan, though, the little creature scampered between his legs, shaking slightly.
Something’s outside, Ethan realized. He had seen enough dogs bark at doors to know Waffle knew more than he did. Cautiously, he slid the door open and peeked down the hall in both directions. There was nothing. He crossed the walkway and looked out the window.
The lights mounted along the perimeter fence did little to illuminate the scene, but it was enough. A shadow shifted below, well inside the half-finished perimeter fence. Ethan dashed back to his bunk, grabbing his helmet out of his footlocker. He switched it to thermal and looked into the darkness again.
Sure enough, a massive spot of red and yellow was prowling amongst the crates and toolboxes left out by the workers. His heartrate doubled as the animal – easily larger than a lion – slowly and methodically approached Voyager Dawn’s forward strut, home to the larger and more accessible freight elevator.
Waffle scurried up onto the sill, and upon seeing the beast, shrieked and returned to the safety of Ethan’s feet.
A notion in the back of Ethan’s head told him to fetch the captain or commander, but he was irrationally transfixed by the sight of the creature. It continued towards the ship, occasionally stopping to look at a cargo container or machine.
Ethan had no idea how long he watched the beast, nor was he aware during that time how tightly Waffle was clinging to his leg, but when the creature decided it had thoroughly explored the area and began to sidle back into the trees, throwing sharp glances back at the ship, Ethan released the breath he had been holding. A pinprick of pain lanced up his leg from the claws that Waffle had dug through his jumper, and he shooed the animal away. Waffle darted back into the barracks, instantly mounting Moira’s bunk.
Following close behind, Ethan replaced his helmet in his locker, hands still shaking with adrenaline. He wondered numbly if Gamma squad had encountered any such creature during their run earlier in the day. Surely he would have heard something. Or, given the size of the beast, he would have seen its handiwork on one or more of the marines. Either way, he was not looking forward now to his own adventure into that untamed territory.
*
“What did it look like?” Commander Hadings asked, hands hovering over his keyboard.
Ethan shook his head from across the desk. “I didn’t really see. It was too far out for the thermal cam to pick up anything worthwhile. It just looked like a big mass.”
Hadings nodded, clearly disappointed by the lack of information.
It was early, barely zero-six-hundred, when Ethan had managed to bypass his morning labors to inform the commander of what he had seen the night before. Hadings had promptly called for the captain.
The door hissed open behind them and Rhodes stepped into Hadings’ office.
“I’m already getting reports of damage to materials left outside,” he said by way of introduction. “’Torn apart’ was the phrase Chief Searl used. I’m sincerely regretting my lackadaisical approach to the work’s end yesterday.”
Ethan looked to Hadings, whom he expected to be the one to respond. Hadings merely made a face to the captain that said, “What can you do?” Rhodes returned a less pleasant glare. “That said,” he continued, “until that fence is put up, I want everyone on double-time, Commander. I’m not putting up with any more of this garbage.”
“Yes, Captain,” Hadings said. He waited for the sudden heat to die down before directing Rhodes’ attention to Ethan. “Sergeant Walker saw what did it, like I said on the comm.”
“How did you come to be looking out the window, Sergeant?” Rhodes asked. It was an innocent enough question, Ethan supposed, but it felt like Rhodes knew about Waffle.
“I was awake, sir, and I heard something outside. I think that… thing knocked over a container or something.”
“What was it doing? When you saw it.”
“Just looking around, sir,” Ethan answered, “at least, that’s what it looked like. Once it got to the elevator it turned around and left. If it wanted a way in, it couldn’t find one.”
“Possibly,” Rhodes said, scratching his goatee mildly.
“What are you thinking?” Hadings asked him.
“I’m playing it safe,” Rhodes said sharply. “I want a guard on the fence tonight. Clearly these things aren’t scared of us. Which means we should be wary of them.”
The Expedition
“Are they to suffer?”
“Who?”
“The Humans. Are we to allow them agony, even if they do not bow to the Great One?”
“They will suffer, but not because they wish to ascend to his presence. They will suffer because they are parasites and warmongers. The P
rophets have spoken on the matter, and believe even the greatest pain would not elevate the Humans to the standing of the Great One.”
“If you insist.”
Whatever the creature was that had been prowling around Voyager Dawn, it failed to reappear in the following days, and the next batch of recon missions proceeded as planned.
Ethan and Omicron squad gathered in Hangar Two early on the morning of their departure. There was less activity on the deck than there had been before planetfall and Moira’s scouting run, but there was still a significant taskforce readying both Omicron’s flight and Kappa’s flight, which was being piloted by Ethan’s squad mate, Raptor three.
“Raptor three, you have DRAC echo-one,” the loadmaster declared as the pilots approached, flanked closely by their respective marine teams, “Raptor one, you’re in delta-one.” Ethan veered right, guiding Omicron to DRAC delta-one. “I want these things back in one piece,” the loadmaster continued. “We already have four of the things in disrepair after that little stunt Solar pulled on Five, and I’ll be damned if I see the other sixteen fall prey to the same stupidity.”
“We’re Raptors, not Solars,” Raptor three, Luther Brook, called back, grinning. “We don’t screw up.”
“You’d better not. If I see a single scratch on either of those ships, I’ll have you both court-martialed.” Luther shot him a mock salute and climbed into his vessel.
The DRAC – Dual-Rotor Attack Craft – was the smaller counterpart to the huey, meant for closer reconnaissance and lighter loads. Piloting a huey was like flying a dump truck, making the DRAC positively nimble by comparison and one of Ethan’s favorite crafts, second only to the F/OA-50 Sparrowhawk. He never felt more free than when he was banking, rolling, and careening through space in the nimble fighter. Unfortunately, situations demanding the Sparrowhawks were few and far between.
“Everyone good back there?” he asked as the rotors revved up. Omicron squad was hauling a sizable amount of scientific equipment into the main compartment with them. Ethan waited for the go-ahead from Mason, then eased forward on the throttle. They gently tilted forward and slid out of the hangar.
Voyager Dawn Page 2
