The Star Chronicles: Book 01 - Battle for Earth

by Rod Porter

  “He’s alive,” the adult called out to someone. Jackson’s head began to pound and the sun seemed to burst into a bright fiery explosion he had to shield his eyes from. Although he was having trouble with his vision, he made out two consoling voices. The voices belonged to two middle-aged women. They propped his head up and examined him.

  “Bring water,” one of the women said.

  The next thing he knew, Jackson had a bowl of pure cool water at his lips. He sucked it down feverishly. His eyes were beginning to adjust to the daylight. “Where am I?”

  “Among friends,” responded the warmest, most serene voice he had ever heard in his life. Jackson, proud warrior though he was, turned to mush at the thought of being catered to and taken care of by what had to be nomads. Usually nomads took care of their own. It was strange that they were bothering to help him at all.

  “Jenkin,” the pistol-clutching man said to the boy. “Tell them to bring the car around.”

  After the boy ran off, the man and two women helped Jackson to his feet. “Thank you,” he told them.

  “What are you doing on the shore?”

  Jackson’s knees buckled, and he fell to the sand.

  The women helped him back to his feet. “Enough with the questions Hank,” one of them chided. “He is in need of medical care and poses no threat to anyone. Once he is stabilized, you can resume your rude behavior.”

  “I’m just trying to keep us safe, Mary.”

  Mary ignored him and took a better look at Jackson. For the first time she noticed that Jackson’s lower abdomen was bleeding along with his knee and small back. “He’s been shot,” Mary said. “Multiple times. He’s lucky he wasn’t shark food.”

  At least now Jackson understood why he was feeling so faint. There was no telling how long he had been losing blood. Something about this situation was not quite right. A boy, two unarmed women, and a man with a pistol, alone in the wastelands? They would not last a week, he reasoned. It was not until he saw a vehicle pull onto the beach that he began to calm down. It was a long truck. There was a rifle mount on the roof with a gunner sitting at the helm. But still there were things that did not add up. These nomads had let him drink a generous portion of their water, had one pistol-carrying individual, and were going to heal him for no reason? Plus, they were way too cavalier. Shorelines were not safe places to be. There was no cover to hide from alien patrols.

  He stopped trying to think after they laid him down in the truck.

  “You just rest, son. We’ll get you fixed up as soon as we get home.”

  The last thing that went through his mind before he passed out was, what if some of the others at command had survived? Had the offensive been a success? But the loss of blood was too much. He passed out.

  It had been a total disaster. First, the command barge lost contact with Delta. Next, the ship’s radar and equipment had begun to malfunction, followed by loss of power. Then soldier aliens began to land on the barge. These were soldier aliens like Jackson had never seen, clearly upgraded somehow. He and the other officers had kept the aliens at bay as long as they could, but the soldiers eventually overran the entire ship. Jackson had somehow managed to make it to the ship’s backup generators, so they could get their communications up and radio in some rescue choppers. But when he got back topside with his group of troopers, they realized that the ship was being pulled by something. They were being pulled east. And whatever was under the water, it was big.

  Then there was more gunfire…

  “Where am I?” Jackson had been dreaming. Now awake, he took stock of his situation. He appeared to be in some kind of infirmary. It did not look like any infirmary he was used to. The hospitals in Jade had the best equipment and facilities in the world, he had thought, but this place looked like a pre-downfall hospital. It was clean and bright. There were several tubes and wires attached to his body, even an oxygen mask over his face. He removed them all, relieved to find that he was not on any kind of life support.

  “Good. You are finally awake. I am Dr. Lexington, and I will be your primary care doctor for as long as you will need it.”

  “Primary-care?” Jackson did not know that phrase, but he decided to shrug it off. What he did know was that Dr. Lexington was the most strikingly beautiful woman he had ever seen. “I’m in a hospital.”

  Dr. Lexington stood up and walked over to him. “Yes, you are.” She began to examine him with a flashlight and an assortment of other tools Jackson had never seen. “How do you feel?”

  “I feel fine.”

  “Dizziness? Light-headedness? Nausea? Anything?”

  “No, nothing. Can I ask…where the hell I am?”

  She looked at him inquisitively. God, even her glasses made her look attractive, he thought.

  “I’m obviously in a colony, right?”

  “You are. Can you stand up for me?”

  He did, as she began to examine the rest of him, taking particular care to check the bandaged gunshot wounds.

  “I’ve never seen a medical facility like this before. It’s very impressive.”

  “Luckily for you. Open your mouth.”

  After checking his throat for something, Dr. Lexington produced a clipboard and began to jot down some notes. “We removed the bullets and stitched you up. One of them was just centimeters from your spine. You are very fortunate. X-rays showed that you had-”

  “X-what?”

  “X-rays.”

  “What is an x-ray?”

  The doctor grabbed an x-ray photo and presented it to Jackson. “This is an x-ray. Our x-ray machine can take pictures of you that show us if there is anything on the inside of your body that is irregular. We used the x-ray machine to help us find and remove the bullets.”

  This confounded Jackson. To his knowledge, the most advanced medical tactic for finding a bullet was probing the skin itself. These people could see through his skin and into his body?

  “This is the most advanced, cleanest infirmary I have ever seen, doctor.”

  “Then, it really is your lucky day. This colony is widely regarded as one of the best places to live in the wasteland.”

  Jackson took notice of two men outside the door. They were sitting in chairs, eyes fixed on him. Clearly they were here to keep the doctor safe. The two men had rifles lying across their laps. Dr. Lexington continued to scribble some notes and walked to a desk across the room. She slipped her notes into a file and turned back to him.

  “Now your report is on file. I am going to prescribe you some medication for the pain that you will experience. We currently have you on painkillers, but the effects of those will run out in about seven hours. The guards outside will escort you to your quarters. You have been assigned a room here at the hospital until you are fully recovered.”

  Then it hit Jackson: the fancy room, advanced equipment, advanced medicine, pills and medication. No wonder the people who rescued him had been so nonchalant about being out in the open on an exposed shoreline. No wonder the technology was so advanced. Jackson took another look at the armed guards outside the door. He became terrified as he came to the realization that he, the leader of the human resistance, was in a treacherous colony!

  PROPOSITION

  The last time Demoskeena had met with Troy, he had extended a hand in friendship, asking Troy to betray the confidence of Jackson Anderson and to be his spy in the Unconformed. At that time, Troy had been a nobody. He might have been close to the General of the resistance, but he was a lowly trooper and had carried no individual weight. Now, he was acting General. So it was with good reason that he felt confident that, this second time around, Demoskeena was going to offer him something substantial in their dealings with one another. It also strengthened Troy’s resolve and confidence to know that he had gotten the better of the new Prime Minister during the public debriefing.

  True to form, the politician arrived at Troy’s new office in resistance headquarters with a small entourage, mostly aides and other staff member
s. “Good afternoon,” he said to Troy when he entered and they were alone. He sat down across the table from Troy.

  “Afternoon, Prime Minister,” Troy said.

  Demoskeena channeled his irritation like a professional. “I see you have no trouble addressing me properly behind closed doors. Not so much when the entire city is watching.”

  “I must apologize for that. I wasn’t informed of your promotion until after the proceedings.”

  They both knew he was lying. “I hear congratulations are in order for you. You have been made Acting General, my sources tell me.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You must have really been something on that beach. I don’t think I’ve ever seen soldiers so blindly loyal to someone. They loved General Anderson, but I think they would all do just about anything for you. And I wholeheartedly support their feelings. Let’s be frank, Jackson never stood up to me like you did at the hearing. He didn’t have the brains or the savvy that you do.”

  The verbal slight to Troy’s recently deceased mentor and friend was not appreciated. “What do you want, Demoskeena?”

  “As acting commander of Jade’s military, I’d think the security of its Prime Minister would be a priority. After all, I represent the very people you defend.”

  “Things are changing. This resistance no longer defends the people of Jade exclusively. We no longer exclusively recruit Jade citizens. We now charge ourselves with defending the people of the planet Earth. The Unconformed’s new focus is taking this planet back. You and all your peons are focused on gaining control over this one city. In the meantime, human beings are suffering all over the world.”

  “You undervalue Jade. Jade is where humanity will start over. Learning, education, culture, science: it is all being reborn here. Jade will be the premier human city always, whether you see that or not.”

  “You should know that I am seriously considering relocating headquarters.”

  “You can’t do that,” Demoskeena snorted. “You don’t have the authority.”

  “Who is going to stop me? The Church? The Quorum? You?”

  Demoskeena began to show his hatred for Troy. “You think because you outmaneuvered me at one hearing you’ve somehow gained the power to do whatever you want? The Catholic Church and its followers are not appreciative of the way you challenged me, nor is the Quorum. While you command much loyalty, you seem to forget that a large portion of your army are my followers. The Church has grown larger than the resistance. We control the new media, as well. That being said, I am going to need a detail.”

  Troy laughed. “A detail? Listen, if you want some lessons, I would be happy to have one of my troopers teach you how to use a gun.”

  “General, I’m afraid that will not be adequate. I need an armed escort with me at all times. As the leader of the military, you should have more concern for the city’s premier political official. I was almost killed while you were away on your mission. I need to be protected, and believe me when I say you will take a huge hit with the public if you fail to deliver here. The people are thrilled to have a Prime Minister.”

  Troy felt confident that the people’s optimism would not be long lived. In fact, he made a mental note to make sure they grew tired of their mistake in forming the position of Prime Minister. “No one in Jade has any guns but the Unconformed, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Well, you can’t. I should be dead, you understand?”

  Troy rubbed his chin. He had looked into the whole affair as soon as he had heard that Demoskeena had been shot while he was away on mission. He was certain that the assassination attempt on the Prime Minister had been staged by Demoskeena himself, so that he could have armed men of his own as a ‘security detail.’ “Interesting how the would-be assassin shot you in the chest, the only part of your body that was protected,” Troy noted.

  The priest did not take the bait, so Troy continued. “Let me ask: is it common for priests to be wearing Kevlar armor?”

  “The Lord works in mysterious ways, General.”

  Troy saw that he could not talk his way around this. Now came the part where he found out what was going to be exchanged, now that he himself was a man of power. “I’m still waiting to hear why I’m going to give you guns of your own.”

  “They’re for defense. Guards.”

  Troy glanced at the priest, letting him know that he would not be fooled. “I’m waiting, Demoskeena.”

  The elder priest became quiet. He gave Troy a smirk of understanding, letting him know that he was being wise, and that this was the beginning of many horse trades to come. “You are going to continue to face serious backlash for the failed offensive. With the formation of the new media and the anti-Catholic profile my public relations people have slapped on you, it’s only going to get worse. Before you know it, there will be people who hate you and the Unconformed. But, if you give me a small detail, the Church and the Prime Ministry would be willing to come to your aid. We would speak to the people through the media on your behalf. Let them know that the Church supports the Unconformed, and that we mourn the soldiers who lost their lives in the courageous offensive that was launched to keep us all safe.”

  Troy wondered if there was a snitch close to him. The priest’s offer was just what he needed! He had prepared himself before the sit-down that Demoskeena might offer this. He had expected to have to do some fast talking to get it to happen, and here the Prime Minister was just offering it to him up front. The plan fell right in line with Troy’s aspirations to expand the resistance. New recruits were what he needed: people from all walks of life, even if their backgrounds were different.

  “I will provide you with a small detail. Five armed escorts.”

  “I want ten,” said the priest.

  Troy thought for a moment. This was going to be the first of many sit-downs with Demoskeena. It was important to establish himself to be reasonable, tough, knowledgeable, and firm. “You can have eight, but they report to me.” Troy knew that last statement was just going to be a formality. It would not take much for the most powerful man in the city to flip a few troopers. Demoskeena would deny them nothing. Troy would have to select the detail very carefully. He needed at least one on the inside who would remain loyal to him no matter what.

  “Agreed. They will report to you, General.”

  “Good. I’ll send the detail over to your office by the end of the week.”

  They both stood. Demoskeena held out a hand that Troy had no choice but to take. The way Troy saw it, if he had to be breaking bread with someone, it might as well be the only person who equaled him in power.

  “And I will expect the Church and the Prime Ministry’s full support for our efforts to regroup from the offensive.”

  “Indeed.”

  TREACHEROUS

  It seemed that nothing Jackson had been led to believe about the treacherous colonies was true. He only spent a week in the hospital before being released. The round-the-clock medical care he had received was definitely out of the ordinary, but welcome. A person with the gunshot wounds and injuries he had sustained would have been in a Jade infirmary for weeks, maybe more. At first, the guards that he had spotted outside his hospital room had him panicked. He thought for sure they knew who he was and that he was in for lengthy interrogations and torture. But he came to realize that it was standard procedure for new arrivals or outsiders to be shadowed for security purposes.

  He had thoroughly enjoyed his time with Dr. Lexington. The attraction he felt was unlike any he had ever experienced. She was different from the women of the wastelands, obviously, but also from the women of Jade, who were renowned as the most refined in the world. Stephanie-for the good doctor had finally broke down one afternoon and told him her real name-checked up on him daily. She dressed his wounds, examined him, and evaluated his physical condition. She was beautiful, smart, educated, and confident in a way that was totally foreign to him. Before he was released from the hospital, he convinced her to a
gree to continue on as the physician that would oversee his follow-up appointment in a week. The primary care physician was not supposed to do the follow-up, but Jackson would not be deterred.

  Certainly, he thought, the hospital must have been over the top. The rest of the colony had to be the cold and sinister place that the treacherous were known for. But he had been wrong about that as well. The colony looked to him like a vision of the future. The fact that it was underground was really the only primitive slight you could give it. It was exquisitely constructed. There were stone pathways, rivers, waterfalls, brick buildings with glass windows, elevators, platforms, benches, parks, grass and trees, soil and colorful flowers. There was even an artificial projection of a blue, cloud-filled sky, complete with an image of the sun, that made up the ceiling miles above them. Jackson could not believe it. He closed his eyes and soaked in the warm rays of the makeshift sun. He was told that this colony was known as Hivestown, and it was about a mile in length and width, with a population in the thousands.

  The people looked just as advanced as their surroundings. They wore clothes of fine material and walked with a step that suggested they all had something to do. They were busy, important; they had lives, jobs in almost all cases. The starkest contrast between the people of Hivestown and the other, more primitive colonies of the wasteland that Jackson had visited was that these people were happy. While they seemed busy, they were upbeat. Children smiled and ran wild in the parks under the eyes of watchful parents. The adults were just as bubbly. They sat at the benches or by the waterfalls, engaged in jovial conversations.

  Where were all the aliens? Jackson kept wondering. Who was monitoring these people to make sure they stayed in line? Where were the crude pens and cages where they kept non-treacherous humans cooped up like animals? Jackson did not become personally enthralled with the colony until he got to the residential districts. These colonists lived in actual houses, not tents like the regular colonies. Not even in Jade did they have such exquisite houses, made from wood and brick. One house, in particular, caught his gaze. There was a man and a woman in the front yard, playing with their children. The scene warmed his heart in a way that he had never felt. He wanted that. How wonderful it would be to stop fighting, to stop seeing death and violence and struggle against an all-powerful enemy, and just live each day for himself and those he loved. There had never been a moment in his life where he had entertained the thought of not being a resistance fighter. He shrugged it off. There had to be a catch here.