Into the Fire

by Mark Tufo

  He was about to ask if he heard from Mike, but kept that to himself now that he had his answer. Paul wasn’t sure if he was pleased that Beth was bleeding or displeased that she wasn’t injured more as she walked onto the bridge.

  “Is it over?” she asked as she wiped blood from her brow.

  “For now. We’re far from safe though. We’re involuntarily towing a wreck. We can’t move much and we have fires in roughly twenty-five percent of the ship. Shuttles are coming with medical personnel. Why don’t you go down to the hospital and get yourself checked out.”

  “Help is coming? From who?”

  “Drababan.” Beth’s face pinched at the alien’s name. “You can feel however you want about him, but he’s saving our ass.” He was so close to saying, “and not your precious Mike.” The words were so close to being spilled like an oil leak that he could taste the foul concoction upon his tongue and lips.

  “Sir, we’re hearing back from the shuttle crew. They landed on the Progerian vessel. The ship itself is a loss, but the supplies aboard are seemingly limitless. They also thought that the buckle drive was in pretty good shape.”

  “Renaissance One, did you copy that?”

  “We did, sir. Our engineers want to see what the Guardian may need first but are happy that they’ll have something to Frankenstein parts from if necessary. We should be boarding in the hour.”

  “Look forward to it. Any news on the other Prog ship?”

  “Nothing on our end, sir. Kind of hoping you knew.”

  Paul could feel the angst in the captain’s voice. They were all pretty much sitting ducks if the Progerian vessel picked this time to show herself.

  * * *

  “Should we aid the humans?” the Stryver asked his commanding officer. They had “parked” their vessel at the outer limits of detection. Only the most thorough of examinations would be able to pick up the ship among the asteroid field they were in.

  “I do not think so. I do not like the humans’ uncanny ability to win in battle. I would much prefer the enemy we know. Let the other Progerian vessel destroy them and we will come in while they are busy with the humans and finish them off. Both of their fates will be sealed and the planet will be ours to start over with.”

  “Should I send a coded anonymous message to the Progerians letting them know where the humans are?”

  The Stryver commander thought long on this. “No, we will not intervene in any way. We will allow this to be played out as it was meant to.”

  The ship was a hive of activity as new crew members came aboard. A triage was set up in the docking bay. Those that needed the most critical of care were worked on immediately. Twelve crew members had died, most lost to the vacuum of space, but three were burned beyond even the best medical expertise. Of the cases the medical team saw, most revolved around broken arms and legs. The engineering team raced to the drive, realizing that its repair was tantamount to the safety of them all. Paul waited a couple of hours before going down to check on their progress. Welding arcs and sparks shot around from every angle of the large engine. Paul was hesitant to impede on any progress and waited until one of the workers removed his welding mask.

  “General!” the man said with a wide smile, white teeth shining brightly compared to the black soot that encased his face.

  “Good news? I could use some.”

  “Mostly, sir. The drive itself seems to be in working order, we won’t be able to tell until we get all the braces repaired. I’m thinking it went offline because some sensors were thrown out of whack. One of these things shouldn’t be powered up if it’s not safe and sound in its cradle. Appears to be some alien version of fuses are torched, but we have plenty of those on hand. There’re also some different parts attached I’m not so familiar with, not going to touch those. They seem intact, which is good.”

  “We outsourced some repairs. Long story,” Paul said at the questioning stare of the engineer. “So far everything I’m hearing sounds good. What’s the downside?”

  “Well, sir, even with my men working constantly, we’re about fifteen hours out from turning this thing on and making sure we don’t need anything else. Gonna be a hell of a repair bill.”

  “I can deal with the payment, it’s the time that has me worried. We’ve got another ship out there that would just love to drop by and say hi. Looks like it’s going to be a race between you and the crew outside getting us untangled.”

  “They willing to bet, sir?”

  “I would imagine. A case of scotch, perhaps?”

  “Get your lazy asses to work!” he yelled to his crew. “Excuse me, sir, I’ve got to get back to it. Never saw a glass of scotch I could pass up.”

  For the first time in days, Paul finally felt a glimmer of hope. He did not let that shine too brightly or it might push back the shadow that loomed over them all and he could not allow that. To not keep all the dangers they faced near and to the forefront of thought would be to risk losing everything. He left the engine room amidst the smell of burning metal.

  “Mike, I know you’re still out there, I swear I can feel it in my bones. I’m going to make it my mission to prove to you that I’m still the man I once was. One you can trust your life with.”

  Chapter 24

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – MIKE JOURNAL ENTRY 13

  “What the hell is going on out there?” Reaper asked.

  “Two assholes are duking it out to see which one can take the biggest shit,” I told him.

  “That’s your idea of relaying information?” Tracy asked me.

  “He gets it,” I said, nodding to Reaper.

  “The Genos and the Mutes are killing each other,” he answered, with a smile to Tracy’s look of disgust.

  “Men.”

  BT and I fist bumped as Tracy turned away.

  “So what do we do?” Reaper asked.

  “I hate the idea of sitting here and waiting to see what happens, but I get the feeling that going outside to see what happens is worse,” I said.

  “We need to at least be prepared,” Kap said as Reaper adjusted his bandages.

  “Are you hit again?” I saw a bandage on the side of his head with fresh blood.

  “Chunk of sink vanity hit him,” Reaper said.

  “You’re like an injury magnet, glad to see I’m finally passing that torch,” I told him.

  He flipped me off.

  The fighting outside intensified, there were war screams and grunts of the injured but none of the cries were for one’s mother or for help. It was strange to see a species so devoid of humanity that they would not call out to another for help, even in their most dire of times. Not sure if it was a severe case of stoicism or pride—more likely neither. Probably not even a conscious thing on their part. No one would be coming to their rescue anyway.

  There were a series of explosions, punctuated by a long bout of silence, which was partly welcome, and then some more shooting followed by more silence. One of the sides had been wiped out and my money was on the Mutes being victorious, they had the numbers.

  “Everybody ready?” I asked, hoisting my gun.

  “Michael Talbot!” It was the halting speech of a Geno not accustomed to English raking across my eardrums. “It is I, Keecan!”

  “You won?” I asked in a shout.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Kap asked me quietly.

  “Responding.” I looked at him with a “duh” expression.

  “Don’t you remember the agreement you yourself entered into?”

  “Shit.”

  “Duh,” he sarcastically replied.

  The deal had been that we would be allies as long as there was an external threat. Seems that threat was neutralized and now we were once again adversaries. I thought it decent of Keecan to at least announce we were back at war. Pretty civilized of him.

  “We have indeed overcome our aggressors with some help.”

  I hung my head down a bit. They’d received reinforcements. “Where does that leave us,
Keecan?”

  There was a pregnant pause as we waited for our death date or stay of execution. “It leaves us right here.”

  I almost had to laugh at his literal taking of my question. “In terms of our alliance, Keecan, what is our status?” I reiterated.

  “It is true, together we have destroyed the enemy we mutually agreed to defeat, thus returning us to our normal status, which is war.”

  “How many more of them do you think there are?” Reaper asked.

  I was working on a smart-ass answer, somewhat revolving around “What does it matter?” It was BT who went the all-scientific route.

  “Well, after we killed the Mutes in here, that left somewhere around thirty-six Devastators outside. The Genos were seven and they just had a battle that lasted somewhere just south of twenty minutes.” He pulled up his forearm to look at a non-existent watch. I had a hard time believing there was a band big enough to fit around that wrist, probably had to use a belt and a kitchen clock. “You alright, Talbot? You got a weird look on your face.”

  “Sorry, keep going.”

  “To overpower that many troops in that short of time, they had to overtake them quickly. My guess is there is close to three hundred and fifty Genos out there, give or take fifty or so.”

  We all kind of let a little hope run out through our fingers. Good thing BT was wrong (but for different reasons).

  “I am coming in!” Keecan announced. None of us had been expecting that.

  “Alone?”

  He did not answer me back as he strode through. He had on a red breastplate that looked like it had been hammered from inch thick steel. Anything short of a tank round would bounce off the damn thing. I stood when he came in. He stopped to look at me, then at the weapon in my hands. He noticed the two dead Mutes and seemed to nod in appreciation.

  “We need to discuss terms,” he said, pointing to the table Tracy had bought for our dining room but at an inflated price.

  Terms? I thought. We were either dead or prisoners, neither were great options.

  “Alone,” he said when BT started moving forward.

  “You should go,” I told BT, lightly pushing on his shoulder to urge him on.

  “Asshole, he wants you.” BT shoved me forward. “I’ve got your back,” he said for my ears only.

  I appreciated that, I truly did. What I wouldn’t have done to have his back instead, though. As I sat at the table, Keecan tossed away one of the chairs. It shattered in a heap. I did my best not to cringe at the sound. I knew Tracy wanted to kill him just for that. He pulled up an oversized recliner that more suited his size.

  “I need you to see something before we begin.”

  “Okay.” I was curious.

  He pointed to the window. I was guessing he wanted to show his superiority in numbers, thus giving him the advantage. And holy fucking shit was I right. The one damn time I didn’t want to be. Thousands of Genos were out there, and I swear every one of them was looking at me. They stretched past my field of vision on both sides and to the rear.

  I’m sure I paled as I went back to the table. “Okay, I’m listening,” I told him.

  “We number over seventy thousand.”

  If my asshole hadn’t puckered yet it did now. What’s the opposite of prolapsed?

  “Well, I’m thinking that if you wanted us dead that would be a foregone conclusion.”

  “This is a certainty.”

  “Then what, Keecan? We will not succumb and become prisoners. I’m done with that. I would much rather die fighting for my freedom than live behind bars, real or perceived. It’d be a short fight, but you’d remember the sting of it far past today.”

  “You are honorable as far as hu-mans go. Drababan was right for making a coalition with you.”

  He’d insulted me in a backhanded way. I know it wasn’t intentional; however, I still wanted to bitch slap him. Although I was pretty sure he wouldn’t take that too kindly, so I figured I’d go the tactful route, as unusual and strange to me as that was. “It was more than just a grouping for advantage. Drababan and I are friends and perhaps brothers, as much as two beings born on different planets can be.”

  Keecan did not seem to understand the concept, as foreign to him as perhaps why someone would voluntarily eat cherry Pop-tarts was to me.

  “We are seventy thousand now, but that means little. The Devastator troops are coming, and I have scouts that verify their force will exceed a hundred thousand. We do know their air superiority has been compromised by the loss of the Brakenor.”

  “That’s the name of the Prog Battleship? It’s been destroyed? Paul did it? How is the Guardian?” I rapid-fired questions without giving Keecan a chance to respond, but it didn’t matter, as the questions were mostly statements. Except the last one.

  “The Julipion…” Most of the Genos had not adopted the new naming convention. “Has suffered major damage and will not be able to survive much longer once the Gripthorn arrives. Once the Julipion is gone the Gripthorn will turn its military might to us.”

  “How much time do we have?”

  Keecan laid out his plans. It wasn’t much really, pretty much shoot at the enemy and don’t get hit by return fire. When we were done talking, I tried to shake his hand, but he was already heading out the broken window.

  “How’d that go?” BT asked, never taking his eyes off the back of the retreating Geno.

  “Well, I’m not dead, so that’s a positive.”

  “For who?” he asked, finally looking at me.

  “Hilarious. Come on, I’ve got to relay what he told me.”

  “I’ve got to admit I’m happy we’re still alive.” Kap winced as he moved into a more comfortable position.

  “Might be short lived. Oh, and hey, brainiac, there’s a few more Genos than three hundred and fifty.”

  “I said plus or minus fifty,” BT defended himself.

  “How about plus or minus sixty-nine thousand, six hundred and fifty.” He didn’t say anything. Not much you can when you’re that wrong.

  “You’re telling us there are seventy thousand Genos out there?” Reaper asked.

  I nodded.

  “That’s bad,” BT said.

  “Yeah, you’d think, although they do want to remain friends for now.”

  “Why would they want to stay friends? They could kill us in a couple of minutes,” Reaper thought out loud.

  “Because something worse is coming,” Tracy said, putting it together faster than anyone else.

  “Is she right, Mike? Is something worse than seventy thousand Genos coming?” BT did not look like he wanted to know the answer.

  I nodded, a short little thing, my lips pursed like I’d just sucked a lemon, and why not? The news was bitter enough. “Got about a hundred-kay Mutes coming, and soon they’ll have air support.”

  Kap whistled through his teeth. “Yeah, that’s worse.”

  “How much time do we have?” Reaper asked.

  “Certainly not enough. The Guardian somehow took out the Brakenor, that’s the Prog Battleship, but she suffered grievous damage doing so. Now the other ship, the Gripthorn, is heading to mop up, and once they take out the Guardian…” my voice hitched, this was still my best friend once-upon-a-time that I was talking about, “…they’ll, um, come at us full force.”

  “Have the Genos thought of just running?”

  Tracy laughed. “Sorry.” She placed her hand over her mouth and cleared her throat. “I don’t think they know what that word means. To be honest, I’m surprised we’re not all running headlong into the teeth of the enemy. How Mike got them to leave the last time is a testament to how he could talk a wolf off a meat truck. Yeah, I don’t get it either.”

  “Hey, right here.”

  “So what now?” Reaper asked.

  “We throw our lot in with the Genos, I suppose,” I said.

  “Would they let us leave?” Kap asked.

  “Yes. I mean, I’m not going anywhere. I’d love for my wife to take of
f, but she won’t. And for some reason, this big guy here is tied to my hip. Let me tell you it’s a fucking burden because he’s like three hundred pounds or so.”

  “Fuck you, Talbot,” BT said as he sat down on a plaid covered sectional.

  “If we stay and we somehow win, what difference does it make? The Genos will thank us for our help as they line us up against the wall.”

  Personally, I didn’t think that would happen. Let me clarify. I didn’t think we’d win; and secondly, the Genos did have a strange sense of honor, they’d at least give us a head start before the shooting started. And if the Genos lost, well, all would have really gone to shit anyway. When the Genos, the Guardian and any hope of defeating the invaders was gone, I’d much rather pitch my tent with those that were still resisting rather than go slinking off into the night. It’s that whole hero complex thing going on.

  Instead I just shrugged my shoulders to Kap in response.

  “I guess I’m staying, I’m too tired and sore to run,” Kap said.

  “What the hell, I’ve tried a lot of things in this life never gave death a shot,” Reaper added.

  “Crackers are crazy.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? You’re staying, too,” I said to him.

  He chose not to answer and I sure wasn’t going to force a reply from him.

  “So what now?” Kap asked again.

  It was kind of funny, but we all turned to Tracy.

  “The roof. We’ll have clear lines of fire.”

  She was right. We’d never be able to see over the hordes of enemy and “sort of” enemy combatants. It was somewhat quiet for that volume of living beings to be in one area. Keecan and a few others had taken charge and were in the process of stretching the Geno front lines instead of having one massive ball of greenish brown flesh. I have no idea how far they traveled to each side. I think we were somewhere in the middle. Buildings, trees, and the curvature of the earth prevented us from seeing the Genos to the far sides of us.

  Keecan and about thirty Genos had decided to join us on the roofline. Now we were doing what every combatant during every war had done. Wait.