Stollar's Gambit

by Jason Borondy

Outside Camp Chapman

  Planet M051

  Even with the cooling system, the inside of the Centurion was hot enough to cause Haley to sweat more than was comfortable. It was a little cramped inside the cockpit of the walking weapon system. A drinking tube jetted up from one side of her headrest and she leaned over and took a swig of the electrolyte drink. It gave her a little relief as the cool drink went into her system.

  She snapped her head back to look through the view screen of the Centurion. In front of her was a heads-up display that would relay data about the condition of her Mech along with maps, and status of weapons. A small green targeting crosshair illuminated in the center of the HUD.

  “Hawkins, oops, I mean Stollar?” a voice stuttered over the comms.

  “Yes. Jones,” she replied gritting her teeth.

  Being called Hawkins bugged her. Her short-lived marriage was finally over and she had just got her name legally changed back. It had been somewhat of a transition period with her unit still calling her by her old name.

  “Are we lost?” Jones asked.

  Haley toggled her map on her HUD and scanned their position on the map. An elevation change was approaching about a mile ahead. It looked to be a hill. The navigation pin was in the middle of that hill indicating their destination.

  “According to the map, we should be close to the location of the pulse,” she replied.

  “Don’t you think it is kind of crazy to go hunting a mysterious pulse of energy with no information why?”

  “That is what we are ordered to do. You know better than ask a stupid question like that.”

  “Zip it, you two!” a sharp female voice shouted through the headset.

  “Yes, Master Sergeant,” Haley replied.

  “Jones?” the female Master Sergeant asked.

  “I understand, Master Sergeant.” Jones replied in a lowered voice.

  Haley kept piloting the Centurion following the navigation computer’s directions. The computer also indicated the location of Jones’ Mech, along with the troop carrier that was moving slightly ahead of them.

  Looking around there wasn’t much to see. M051 was a barren planet. Dirt and mountains littered ground and the horizon. The only good thing was it was the farthest habitable planet in the colonized space, and since no one initially wanted it for a colony, it became a great place to set-up a camp in which the defense force could train. Recently corporations have sent surveyors to the planet to find areas that they could mine. One such team seemed to trigger an anomaly, a pulse of energy that wreaked havoc with all the area’s electrical equipment. Now it was up to the defense force to investigate.

  “Hold,” the Master Sergeant’s voice commanded over the comms.

  Haley backed off the throttle and she could feel the giant machine come to a stop. Looking on her monitor she could see that Jones had followed suit and the troop carrier had come to a stop in front of them.

  “We’re here,” the Master Sergeant stated.

  Looking forward, Haley observed the hill. It was unremarkable. It was basically a large mound of dirt and rock. Below it was a boulder field, with large rocks big enough to hide a Mech in. The hill, though, was too steep for the Centurions to be able to climb.

  “Sergeant Lamb, what now?” Jones asked.

  “You and Centurion 07 circle around the hill and see if you can find any entrances or signs that someone is out here. We’ll dismount here and approach on foot. Don’t do anything stupid. If you see anything report it. Got it?” Lamb instructed.

  “Affirmative,” Haley responded.

  “Ladies first,” Jones stated.

  “Then you better get moving,” Haley replied.

  Annoyed, Jones replied, “I guess just this once.”

  Haley turned her Mech to the right, and Jones’ Centurion came into view. The Centurions were ugly machines. They were stocky in build with almost birdlike legs. The arms hung from the shoulders, and each arm was attached a ballistic weapon. In the right hand was a micro rail cannon. It could deliver a 30mm slug on target at hypersonic speeds. In the left arm was mounted a 30-caliber Gatling-style machine gun. Each shoulder of the Centurion housed the latest versions of Hellfire missiles. The design had been upgraded a lot since the original 20th-century versions. They were no longer laser-guided or air-to-ground. Instead they linked to the Centurion’s targeting computer, which included fire-and-forget software. That meant you could fire at one target and engage another enemy before the first one hit its target. With all that hardware build into it, that didn’t leave much room for the pilot, even for someone of Haley’s skinnier stature.

  She pushed forward on the throttle, giving her Mech enough speed to keep up with Jones’ pace. They started to navigate to the right of the hill. They kept a distance from the hill in case there was anyone on it trying to strike down on them. It would be kind of silly for anyone to try to take on a pair of EDF Mechs. They wouldn’t stand too much of a chance. Still, some smugglers had tried it in the past, only to fail miserably.

  Something on Haley’s heads-up display caught her eye--a red blip indicating they were being scanned by something on the hill.

  “Stollar, do you see what I am seeing?” Jones asked.

  “Yes, we are being scanned by someone,” she replied.

  “Scanned or targeted?”

  Haley could sense panic in his voice. Then she noticed his Centurion had come to a complete stop.

  “Shit!” she cursed at herself as she pulled back hard on the throttle. Haley was thrown forward in her restraints, and they dug into her skin as the Mech came to an abrupt stop. Pain radiated through her shoulders.

  “What the hell, Jones!?” she yelled.

  “I am not going to let them get off the first shot,” Jones replied.

  Perplexed, Haley said, “Hold up, we don’t know what’s going on yet.”

  “I think it is pretty clear,” Jones stated. His voice was sounding even more panicked than before.

  Looking at Jones’ Centurion, Haley could see that Jones had twisted the torso of the Mech. He targeted his weapons to bear on what he thought was the source of the scanner.

  “Damn it, Jones. Take it easy. I am going to contact Sergeant Lamb and get clarification on what to do,” she replied.

  Haley keyed in on the console in the center of the cockpit to switch channels to contact Sergeant Lamb. As she pressed the button, switching to the troop carrier’s channel, a high-pitched screech flooded the communications channel. She ripped the headset off to save her ears from the pain. Then she looked up at the heads-up display, and it was unreadable. A split second later, it returned to normal. The blip on the screen indicating they were being scanned was gone.

  Things got worse. She witnessed Jones’ Mech firing a Hellfire. The missile streaked from the right torso of the power armor towards the hillside. Haley put her headset back on. She grabbed the control stick of the Centurion and twisted the torso to track the trajectory of the missile.

  “Jones, you idiot!” she shouted at him.

  The missile impacted just above the height of the boulders on the hillside. The warhead detonated, causing a dust cloud to jet out from the point of impact.

  “What were you thinking?” Haley asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe what just temporarily disabled our systems?” Jones sarcastically replied.

  “And do you feel better? Because all you did was kick up some dust. Plus, we don’t know what it was. It could have been a fault with the systems. We don’t just go shooting things at random on a hunch.”

  “Heavy group, report!” Sergeant Lamb’s voice came over the radio.

  “That was fast,” Haley thought. Before Haley responded, she noticed something shimmering from the area Jones’ missile impacted. Haley quickly keyed in the center console screen and brought up a view of the hillside from the targeting camera. She then zoomed in on the spot. She couldn’t believe what she saw. The area was free of dirt and rock, and in its place was metal. It look
ed a little old, but it still had some shine to it. Then she noticed a small design etched into the metal. She had never seen anything like it. Haley then spoke into her headset, “Sergeant Lamb, this is Specialist Stollar. We are okay here, but we have something that might need to be reported up the chain.”

  3

  EDS Little Rock

  Von Braun Shipyards

  The ready room on the Little Rock was small. Just the captain’s desk with a monitor and keyboard built in. There were two chairs opposite of the captain’s chair. The walls were a gray metallic color and with no decorations. In one corner of the room was a box of personal items—various knickknacks that Jessica would eventually organize around the room but that would have to wait.

  She sat at the desk pouring over last-minute details prior to the Little Rock’s departure from the shipyard. She had to make sure that all section reports met with her satisfaction. She didn’t want to leave any stone unturned or any crewman behind. Details were her thing over the last two years when she was serving as first officer on-board the Nottingham. Now that she had her own ship, she wasn’t going to stop.

  “Captain, a call is coming in. Would you like me to patch it through?” a voice asked through the com speaker at her desk.

  “Who is it, crewman?” Jessica responded.

  “It is the captain of the Oppenheimer,” the crewman answered.

  “Patch him into my station here. Thanks,” she said.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he responded.

  The screen on her monitor changed from reports to the face of a gentleman who looked to be in his early thirties. He had brown eyes with short brown hair in the standard regulation haircut. He also wore oval-shaped glasses with silver frames. Jessica could also make out his standard gray flight suit that all EDF crew members wore. It had black oak leaves on the top of his shoulders indicating the rank of commander. It was still naval tradition, though, to call the commanding officer of the ship “captain” in spite of their actual rank.

  “Well, hello, ‘Captain’ Stollar,” the man on the screen said in a mocking tone.

  “Hello to you, too, ‘Captain' Drake,” she mirrored his tone in response.

  “But seriously, Jessica, congratulations on getting your own ship. Your hard work has paid off,” Drake stated in a more serious tone.

  “Thank you, Eric. I don’t know, though. All my hard work ends up with me commanding an old Mercury-class light combat vessel,” she replied with half a smile.

  “Hey at least you have command now. It’s a start,” Eric stated.

  “True, not all of us can have our pet projects turned into reality and handed a command,” she teased.

  Flustered, he responded, “It’s not my fault that SOB took your idea and gave you no credit.”

  That response hit a nerve with Jessica. Before she was first officer of the Nottingham, Jessica spent time at the Strategic Operations School for the EDF. It was an assignment that a few selected young officers get to go to. The purpose of the school was to take young bright officers and come up with new strategies on how to combat any potential future enemy threat.

  Her plan was a theoretical gravity-based weapon that would disable a ship’s Displacement drive, forcing them to be stuck a sub-light capability only. This would allow a fleet of ships to be able to overpower the target.

  Unfortunately, she trusted the wrong mentor. That person took her idea labeled it as his own and presented it to command. He also got her reassigned to a first officer position before she knew it. He got his own command of a new destroyer, the Spruance, while EDF science developed a working gravity mine.

  “I am just giving you a hard time, Eric,” she responded with a smile.

  “I know,” he smiled back.

  “Plus, not all of us can command a flying phallic symbol,” she laughed.

  “It is not…” he started looking embarrassed.

  A tone came from Jessica’s internal com speaker. She held up a hand to the screen as she keyed in the com.

  “Captain, Admiral Jackson is on the comms asking for you,” the crewman stated.

  “Just a second,” she replied, put her hand down and turned back to the screen. “Sorry Eric, but I am receiving another call. I can talk to you later once we’re underway.”

  “It’s okay. We will be radio silent over the next few days as we test more of the Oppenheimer’s capabilities. Once that has ended, I will contact you,” he replied.

  “Fair enough. Speak to you then.” She gave him a smile then cut the connection. Then she touched a button to activate the internal Comms. “Okay, crewman, patch the admiral in.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the crewman replied.

  The screen changed and Admiral Jackson’s face appeared looking straight at Jessica.

  “Hello, Admiral. Sorry for the slight delay,” Jessica said.

  “No problem. I have a slight change in your orders,” he replied.

  “What change, Admiral?”

  “A situation has developed outside of Camp Chapman on planet M051.”

  “What is the situation?” she queried. There was a note of worry in her voice. She knew her sister was stationed there and hoped she was okay.

  “Don’t worry. It is nothing serious. They just found something that needs some more research. We have some specialists here that need a ride out, and I figured you could help them out with that,” he said.

  “We can do that, sir,” she replied. “When will they be here?” she asked.

  “In about two hours. I know you were due to leave in an hour. Don’t worry, I have coordinated with the Hope and told them you will be a little late picking up your new XO,”

  “Thank you sir, we won’t let you down,” she stated confidently.

  “I know you won’t, and again, congrats on your new command. Godspeed. Jackson out,” he concluded.

  The screen switched back to spreadsheets. She switched over to her e-mail. She had a lot of e-mails from people wishing her good luck with her command. Even an message from the captain of the Spruance that she did not even open. Her mind wondered, “What did you get into, Haley?”

  4

  ESS Carson

  Interstellar Space

  The star field on the main screen shifted, indicating they had jumped successfully. Captain Magnuson felt a little queasy. Jumps always made him feel that way. He reached down and grabbed his cup of peppermint tea and took a sip. He found long ago it helped with his nausea.

  “Sir, we have secured from jump,” the helmsman stated.

  “Navigation, what is our location?” he asked.

  The young lieutenant turned to the captain and answered, “Twenty light years from last location. We are now 600 light years past the outer marker. We are officially the farthest ship from Earth.”

  “Thanks, Lieutenant,” Magnuson said, “Tactical, drop the communications buoy.”

  “Aye, sir,” the young officer confirmed.

  The Carson’s mission was to scout out 1000 light years past the outer marker of the settled systems. They were also required to drop communication buoys to link to the communications network so ships that eventually fly this route could maintain contact with Earth. Magnuson thought this was a waste of a perfectly good science vessel, but they were equipped for long duration missions.

  “Captain, looks like we have an interstellar object that is ahead of us. It will pass by us in twenty minutes.” the science officer said.

  “What is it?” Magnuson inquired leaning forward.

  “Looks to be an asteroid. It is about one kilometer in length and moving close to 320000 kph,” the science officer responded.

  Magnuson was happy. Maybe this mission wasn’t going to be a waste, he thought. Interstellar objects were rare. Only maybe ten had been discovered since Oumuamua first showed up in the Sol System in the early 21st century.

  Excited, Magnuson said, “Catalog all the information we are getting from it. I am heading to the observation deck. Commander James, you have
the comm.”

  The captain got up from his station and left the bridge. It took him about ten minutes to get up to the observation deck. He climbed up the last rung of the ladder and looked around.

  The observation deck was unique to science vessels. Unlike the EDF combat vessels, science ships had an upper deck to get a 360-degree view of space. It was a holdover over from the NASA days.

  No one was on the deck yet. The external shutters were still closed. Magnuson walked over to the panel just ahead of him. It was located under one of the windows. He keyed a command into the terminal. He could hear a clunk as the shutters unlocked and then the hum of the motor as the shutters retracted down into the ship.

  Looking out the window in front of him he could see the blackness of deep space. Stars were like pin pricks of light scattered about the darkness. The white hull of the Carson stretched out below his field of view. It was illuminated by the ship’s running lights.

  Magnuson pressed the button on the panel to access the intercom to the bridge.

  “Okay, science, where is it?” Magnuson asked.

  “Ahead of us and about twenty degrees to the starboard,” the officer replied.

  Magnuson looked to his right and could barely make out an object. All he could see was the stars winking in and out as the asteroid passed in front of them. He could hear behind him the noise of other members of the crew finally entering the room.

  “Where is it?” a voice asked behind him.

  “There,” he said pointing to the spot of star blinking in and out in succession as the fast-moving object moved past.

  “Bridge, do you have a camera view?” he asked though the com panel.

  “Yes, I am patching through to the holo-player at your location.”

  Magnuson pressed another button on the panel and in an instant a 3D image of the object was projected in the middle of the room.

  The asteroid was a chocolate brown color and almost egg shaped. It was not smooth by any means. It was littered with pot marks, small impact gouges, and was tumbling end over end.