by Mark Tufo
“Well, ‘principal’ means of utmost importance. A hu-man that is of utmost importance must have information. True?” The commander asked.
“Well, I think you may have the meaning…” Fortuitously for Spindler, he was looking at the commander as he began to answer, even in an alien facial expression, he knew he wasn’t giving the appropriate response. He cleared his throat. “What I meant to say is that yes, ‘principal’ as a verb means of utmost importance as a noun it signifies that I am the head.” Of what he didn’t finish.
“Then you are a leader?”
“Oh, most definitely,” Spindler answered without hesitation. It was the truth even if it was stretched out like salt water taffy on a hot day.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
The Supreme Commander
Kuvlar was in a quandary, the battle was not going as well as planned. Yes who would win was never in doubt, but the losses were staggering. Progerians valued material assets above all else, there were the countless broken backs of the discarded Genogerians to prove this theorem. When the battle fleet arrived, someone would have to stand tall and feel the full wrath of the Dominion, Kuvlar did not want that Progerian to be himself.
He had known the whereabouts of the Supreme Commander Vallezt since the hu-man had done him the huge favor of getting his competition out of the way. He had made a show of trying to launch a rescue, but the damage to the ship had been a perfect cover to allow the hu-mans to get away.
His secondary plan had been to send a raiding party to save their missing leader, only to have that ship fail miserably upon return, thanks to some strategic subtle sabotages that were sure to have the ship explode on its return. The Progerians and the Genogerians would mourn and Kuvlar would be the Supreme Commander without question. And there in lay the problem when the fleet arrived he would first and foremost be held responsible even though it was the dolt Vallezt that had allowed himself to be taken captive.
'No.' He decided, a successful rescue was to be his salvation, but it was going to take a delicate balance of timing and cunning to stay in power. Vallezt could easily send Kuvlar to the games merely for taking so long to launch troops to recoup their leader. Kuvlar shivered at the thought, he was a thinker, a schemer not a fighter, he wouldn't make it through one fight. He was a TRUE leader of men, always willing to let others die for his ideals.
He had at least two years before the fleet arrived, but he could not wait until that long to make a rescue. Too many things could go wrong, Vallezt could die or be killed by the hu-mans if they did not value his importance or one of their experiments did not go as planned. But to bring him back now was even more distasteful. And then the equivalent of a Progerian smile crossed his features, it was not a sight any human would draw comfort from.
'Quarantine.' Was the one word he thought. "Yes he will be infected with some rare and exotic microorganism that could wipe out all the personnel on board, he will need to be restricted to his quarters with guards." 'He will know the ruse for what it is.' Kuvlar thought. 'But what will he be able to do? I will keep him in a drugged stupor the entire time until I need to drag him onto the carpet when the Battalion Commander arrives. Kuvlar rubbed his hands together, it was an eerie mimicking of Earth's less than savory villains.
"He will very much look the part of an idiot when I release him. That many drugs for that long will have put holes through his brain."
Kuvlar walked onto the helm with a lightness in his step he had not had since he had taken command of the ship.
"Sub-Commander do we still have a lock on the Supreme Commander?" Kuvlar asked his subordinate.
Sub-commander Tuvok had been raised to this position when his superior Sub-Commander Krulak had mistakenly questioned Kuvlar's lack of commitment to launch an immediate rescue of their leader. The words had no sooner left Krulak's snout when the Interim Supreme Commander had shouted 'Treason!' Krulak had not even the chance to explain his side at a tribunal, ISC Kuvlar had said War superseded normal protocols and that mutinous insubordination had to be dealt with swiftly. Krulak had died on the way to his cell when a Genogerian guard had mistaken his movement to his pocket as an act of aggression.
Krulak had died unattended in the hallway while the guard that had shot him was given two weeks of liberty for stopping an insurrection. All of this went through Tuvok's head, he had been waiting for the rescue attempt to happen but he was not foolish enough to demand it.
"Yes sir, he has not moved since the hu-mans placed him in that present location." Tuvok said evenly, even though his heart was beating rapidly, that was as close as he dared to approach insubordination. Kuvlar seemed lost in thought or was completely ambivalent to it.
"We will launch the rescue mission as soon as the teams can be assembled. Get it done." Kuvlar said as he stared through the viewing screen and to the tiny blue jewel in the distance. He would feather his cap with that jewel soon enough. Soon he would command a true war ship.
Tuvok was happy to finally hear those words, life aboard a Progerian vessel was never easy but certain commander's appreciated the efforts of their crew and other's like Kuvlar were merely in it for the glory and were more than likely going to get their charges killed or worse, dishonored.
Twenty fighters along with 5 troop transports loaded with seven hundred of the finest genetically altered Mutated Genogerians the Dominion had to offer departed the Julipion less than an hour later. Their destination Colorado Springs, Colorado, Cheyenne Mountain to be specific.
***
When Paul's militia had left the mountains of Colorado for the tunnels of Walpole, minus their star player Michael Talbot, General Burkhalter had recalled his right hand man Captain Moiraine. The general had specifically sent the Captain to keep an eye out for Mike and to also see what Paul's next move might be, but Paul had been cagey, the General had felt that Paul had seen through his 'plant' from the beginning and with Paul going to ground anyway, the general saw no reason to keep such a valuable asset away any longer.
Captain Moiraine was hesitant to accept any armed force on American soil that was not in the United States military, but there was something about Paul Ginson he could not put his finger on, a resolve, was as close to an adjective that he could get. Paul was unhindered with the bureaucracies that were keeping the rest of the military might on a leash, he envied him that as he sat holding a rapidly cooling cup of coffee. His ass beginning to hurt from so much seat warming. His mug shattered to the floor when he misplaced its resting spot when the giant radar screen off to his left lit up like downtown Tokyo.
"Incoming!" The radioman shouted after the fact.
Lights dimmed from white fluorescent to red. Klaxons peeled as men began to scramble. Dozens of fighters scrambled from the nearby Peterson Air Force base. In theory it looked like an underwhelming force but Captain Moiraine knew the capabilities of their formidable opponent. If more than 5 of those scrambled fighters survived he would be amazed.
"They came out of nowhere!" Lieutenant McNult said.
"They have a tendency to do that." Captain Moiraine said evenly.
"Where do you think they are headed?" The lt asked. But even he knew the answer. This was one of the very last strategic hold outs AND they had in their possession one very pissed off Supreme Commander.
The Captain didn't answer he looked longingly down at the smashed glass and spreading brown liquid of his coffee wishing he had something to wash down the rising panic that was threatening to well up.
"Get everyone to the armory." Captain Moiraine ordered his subordinate.
The lieutenant, turned to look at his superior officer the weight of the words not fully registering.
"Lieutenant, unless I am completely off base we are about to be breeched and in the midst of an all out assault, would you rather die looking at your console or fighting with a weapon in your hand?"
"Sir I'd rather not die at all." The lt said taking a big swallow.
"Poor choice of words, we need to defend ourselve
s lt or we will die. Is that clearer?"
"Sir I've only ever shot once, and that was with a 9 mm pistol. I don't think I'm qualified."
'What I wouldn't do for a squad of Marines.' The Captain thought.
"Lieutenant get your ass up and issue the order for everybody able to wield a weapon to get down to the armory and do so." The Captain said evenly. "And if you say one more word about it, I'll shoot you myself."
"Yes sir."
It had taken over twenty minutes to convince everyone including the scientists to grab a firearm, in that time the Captain had wondered on the validity of his order when he already had two injuries from accidental discharges.
The air battle had gone better than expected but was still a pre-determined outcome, the Americans had adapted their tactics to the superior handling and fire power of their adversary but it was still not enough. Three F-22's limped away, 4 alien fighters had dropped along with two of the heavier troop laden transports. Captain Moiraine hoped that was enough, now it would be their turn to hold on, although he already knew the outcome of that battle also, maybe if he had some Marines he mused, just as the first blasts above them rocked the mountain.
"We've been breeched." One of the Air Force Staff Sergeants said as he checked his panel.
The mountain was rumbling from the multitude of explosions, as deeply buried as Moiraine and his team were they could not yet hear the small arms fire but it was really only a matter of time. He walked over to the coffee machine, grabbed a Styrofoam cup and poured a lukewarm cup of Joe that gas stations would have turned their noses up at.
"Sweet ambrosia." He said as he took a sip. 'Funny how good this tastes when you know it's your last one.' He pulled his wallet out and took one last look at his wife and kids who he hoped were still safely tucked away at his sister's house in upstate Montana.
As he took his final drink, he began to hear the staccato bursts of small arms fire. In less than ten minutes the aliens had taken over three quarters of the mountain. If he hadn't been there to witness it he wouldn't have believed it.
"Lieutenant take your weapon off of safety." The Captain said.
The lt pulled his pistol close to look. "How'd you know?"
"Just a guess. It has been and honor and a privilege to share this uniform with you gentlemen." The Captain said, the room was silent. What more was there to say?
The floor bounced as heavy feet tramped down the hallway. "Mother of God." The Staff Sergeant sighed as the Mutated Devastator troops rounded the corner. He had not so much as fired a shot when he was liquefied.
Captain Moiraine opened fire followed quickly by the rest of the men. Two Devastator's fell as they were struck multiple times. Instead of impeding their progress this seemed to spur them on. Their goal seemed to be overwhelming by vastly superior numbers. The Lieutenant fell next followed by a lab technician that had to have been pushing 60 but looked like he had been born with a rifle in his hand. Moiraine wished he had a dozen more like him.
The Captain had never seen an enemy so willing to sustain damage, his rifle barrel was threatening to burn out as he repeatedly popped out spent magazines and inserted new ones. It was down to himself and a green private. They were holding their own but ammunition was getting down into the red. The Captain felt a burning sensation as his shoulder absorbed the full brunt of an energy discharge, at first it hadn't felt much worse than placing one's tongue upon the terminals of a 9 volt battery, but as time progressed he began to lose functionality in his left arm and the pain began to increase, gradually at first and then to the point where he could think of nothing else at least until he was struck square in the chest.
"Margaret." He called out his wife's name as he fell to the ground.
***
Ground Frontsman Nacir strode through the wreckage of the last fortified human enclosure. "Have you found the Supreme Commander?" He asked his troops.
"Not yet Ground Frontsman." His second in command relayed.
Nacir was angry, he had lost a fair amount of equipment and almost half his troops and still they had not secured the package. Interim Supreme Commander Krulak had been very specific in his orders, if he did not come back with the Supreme Commander then he might as well stay on the planet, and that was unacceptable. Colonization was for colonists, he was a warrior, plain and simple.
It was two hours later and some sporadic fighting when the troops emerged with a bedraggled Supreme Commander. There was no thank you or congratulations. Only, 'What took so long?'
"Blow the mountain", Nacir said as he got the Supreme Commander aboard the transport. The Supreme Commander said nothing to those around him, he was seething in anger and considered it below his station to talk with those aboard the ship.
***
"Seize them." ISC Kuvlar said over the sound system as the transport ship came to rest inside the Julipion.
"What is the meaning of this?" Supreme Commander Vallezt shouted as he was roughly grabbed by two guards.
"We've been ordered to place you in quarantine. The hu-mans have introduced you to biological weaponry." The guard said.
"They have done no such thing!" Vallezt shouted. And then it dawned on him, he looked up to the launch bay control center. "Kuvlar this is your doing, I can smell the taint from here. I will not sit idly by while you destroy everything. I have Progerians loyal to me!"
The guard on his right slid a needle into Vallezt arm, he barely had enough time to register a protest before he was sliding to the ground.
"Place him in his quarters." Kuvlar said as he turned to get back on the helm. 'Fortune shines on me today.' He thought.
CHAPTER SIXTY - Mike Journal Entry 18
I found myself hungry but unwilling to go and get food, certain I would run either into Beth or Tracy. And right now that would be enough to turn off my appetite. But sitting there and contemplating wasn’t going to solve my hunger problem. I was trying to remember the layout of The Hill in the hopes I could find the most obscure untraveled route to the mess hall and then I would order the quickest meal possible in hopes of getting out undetected. I was deep in thought of a grilled cheese sandwich when a soft knock sounded on my door.
Please be Dennis, I prayed to the heavens.
“Come in,” I said with a small upward inflection, showing my nervousness which I hoped didn’t travel through the door.
The door swung in, it wasn’t Dennis. Beth strode in wearing a sky blue dress that matched her eyes. My heart alternated between stopping completely and then hammering through my chest cavity.
“Hello, Mike,” Beth said, looking down more at the floor rather than at me.
Good, I thought, she’s at least as nervous as me. Thoughts ran rapid through my head, but for whatever reason, I couldn’t formulate anything into words. She was just as beautiful, if not more, than I had remembered from any of my most vivid dreams. She had toned up, I could tell from the way the dress clung to her body. Yet she also carried a deep sorrow in her eyes. Something that was not there when we last spoke.
“Debbie’s dead,” she said, finally looking up.
“I know,” I answered flatly. “I saw her.”
Beth looked surprised but did not press the issue.
“Mike, I’ve missed you,” Beth said, tears welling up in her eyes.
I wanted to be vindictive and tell her she abandoned me, leaving me in the void to stumble and pull all the pieces together to get on with some semblance of a life. But none of those words came. I still was having great difficulty engaging the function of speech.
Beth continued. “I have nothing left in this world, Mike. Except for you.” She looked hopefully into my eyes.
I wanted nothing more than to push her out of my room, but I was afraid that if I even brushed up against her I would pull her down onto my bed and never let her go again.
“You left me,” I whispered. The words scraping like sand as they came out of my constricted throat.
Beth looked stung, her eyes threatening
to cry. She moved a step closer, I involuntarily flinched backward on the bed. The movement didn’t go unnoticed, Beth stopped.
“I need you, Mike. Now more than ever,” she nearly cried.
“Why, because I’m the only one left?” I wished the moment it had left my lips that I hadn’t said it. The effect was instantaneous. Beth began to sob, inconsolably. I had never been able to handle a woman’s crying and now was no different.
“Please, Beth, don’t do that. I didn’t mean it.”
The crying slowed but didn’t stop.
“Listen,” I continued. “You hurt me like I’ve never been hurt before. It took me a long time to get over you.”
Beth’s tears almost doubled. “Yuh-yyyou’re over me?” she cried.
“Please-please, stop. Yes and no. I’ve finally stopped thinking about you every minute of every day—now it’s more like every other minute.”
Beth smiled a little.
“I know what I did was wrong,” she said haltingly. “I guess I didn’t want to believe how bad off we really were and the extreme measures we were going to have to take to survive,” she said. “I’ve had to do some pretty terrible things myself just to get here.”
To my surprise, I found myself almost against my own will rising and crossing the distance between us. In a moment, I found myself hugging her and being hugged in return by the girl who had showed me what love was and then shattered my heart into fragments. I had been able to piece some of it back together, but it would never be like the original.
Beth’s sobbing began anew as she buried her head into the crook of my shoulder. I stood there holding on for dear life, my own eyes threatening to loose their water works.
***
Tracy had been on her way to Mike’s room and had just turned the corner in the hallway to see a person that could only be Beth as she walked into the room and by the looks of it she had been invited. Tracy wavered between an all out confrontation or quiet withdrawal. She was frozen in indecision. It wasn’t until she noticed movement at the far end of the corridor that she began to move. But much to her dislike it was away from there; she wanted nothing more than to go to her quarters and put a few well aimed slugs into her wall. Hopefully, they would find their final resting place in the picture frame she had managed to salvage that now contained Mike’s likeness. She was so blinded by rage, it took her more than a moment to discover she was somehow sitting on the ground, having walked into a wall.
