Galactic Defenders- Endurance

by Michael Mishoe

  ​Ki’Ra again computed this data and responded, “I do not believe that we should trouble ourselves with this matter. Even if the ship is intact, it is unreachable to these ‘organics’, because of its location beneath the liquid surface. I will not tolerate unnecessarily diverting our resources to prove your claims while there are battles to be won elsewhere on this planet.”

  ​“But Ki’Ra-”

  ​“That is High Order Ki’Ra to you, Tactical Analysist Cha’Hawk. Do not forget your place. Are there any objectives that need to be discussed?” Ki’Ra asked as he glanced at the officers below. “Good. The invasion shall continue as planned. Disperse, and return to your posts.” Ki’Ra disconnect from his podium and quickly exited the Hall. Cha’Hawk waited by his podium as most of the officers left, and then stopped one of the last squad commanders, a warrior with green-red armor, as he was leaving the Hall.

  ​“Squad Commander Tau’Ka, I have need of your squadron. You are to search out the Ra’Ta and confirm its destruction.”

  ​“Are your audio receptors in need of adjustment? High Order Ki’Ra-”

  ​“I am your superior officer Squad Commander. Do not concern yourself with High Order Ki’Ra.”

  ​“Very well, Tactical Analysist, but I cannot immediately comply with your orders. I already have orders from another commander to hunt down and destroy one of the organic’s puny sea machines. I will start the search after their little toy is destroyed.” Tau’Ka then turned and left the room, leaving Cha’Hawk alone in the Hall.

  ​Cha’Hawk pondered these developments; especially why he just went behind Ki’Ra’s back and defied his orders, but the highest of his concerns was that Ki’Ra was willingly allowing their enemy a chance to obtain some of their technology. The organics may be weak, but they should not be underestimated either. If Ki’Ra was going to let the organics gain the Ribiyar’s own resources to fight back with, Cha’Hawk was going to take matters into his own hands.

  ​“Soon, Ki’Ra,” Cha’Hawk muttered as he went back to his post, “Soon we shall see who is the better warrior.”

  Chapter 2

  Date: July 8, 2132.

  Location: Aboard the U.S.S. Atlanta, at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

  ​“Captain, may I come in?” Lieutenant Commander Trisha Hayley, a slender, African American woman with shoulder-length brown hair, stood at the doorway of the captains’ quarters. Like all personal quarters on a ship this size, the room was small and filled with only essential furniture, normally only big enough to hold two or three people. The captain’s quarters however, was reserved for the captain’s residence only, and the room also had a small table and a desk for his computer interface, where he could access ship logs and information on the computer. He could also use the computer to talk to other officers by either accessing the ship’s communication system or talking to a person using another computer on the ship. In addition to the table and desk, the room also held a bed and a small bathroom, as well as a closet. Hearing Lieutenant Commander Hayley speak, Captain Jack Vade, a fit, young-looking man with dirty-blond hair, got up from his bed and stood to greet her.

  ​“Yes, come in, Lieutenant Commander. What do you need?”

  ​“I just left the Research and Development room, and I have been informed that the Genetic Modulator is almost ready for testing. Once it is completely operational, how do you want us to proceed?”

  ​“For now, simply let me know when the GM is ready. In the meantime, continue to run more computer simulations while we wait. Have you heard from Chief Lexton yet? Do you know if they were successful in restoring our communications systems?”

  ​“I am afraid that Chief Lexton was unable to restore the communications systems to full functionality, Captain. It appears that the communications, along with many other systems on the Atlanta, has been partially disabled or rendered inoperable by the Electromagnetic Pulse from the Korean ship, but we can still communicate within five kilometers with our communications operating at the rate they are now. Not that there is anyone to talk to down here. I also am here to report that the Atlanta has detected something on sonar, about four kilometers away. We’ve tried communicating with them, but there had been no response And, since we are still trapped, we cannot move closer to see what it is. Should we continue trying to contact it, Captain?”

  ​“When we get free, and we get a chance, we will investigate it further. But until then, don’t worry about it.”

  ​“Understood, sir. Is there anything you need me to do, Captain?

  ​“No, Lieutenant Commander. You can return to your duties.”

  ​“Yes, sir. Enjoy the rest of your day, Captain.” Lieutenant Commander Hayley saluted Captain Vade, then turned on her heels and left the quarters, keeping the door open as she exited the room.

  ​Once Vade was sure she left, he left his room and went down the corridor of the hallway. The hallways in the Atlanta, like any other sub, were very compact, only giving enough room for two people to barely walk alongside each other. Throughout the corridors, doorways were periodically placed so a part of the ship could be sectioned off to avoid the sub from sinking from a hull breach. The hallways were lit by lights built into the ceiling, shining white light onto the gray metal plating that comprised the walls and the floor. Though the mood of the furnishings would be considered ‘dreary’, ‘dull’, or ‘uncomfortable’ for civilian standards (even though they were technically right), military vessels are designed primarily for functionality and durability during battle, not for the comfort of its crew.

  ​While walking to the operations center, also known as the secondary bridge for use if the main bridge was damaged or flooded, he hoped he was making the right decision about using the Genetic Modulator. With all standard and orthodox means exhausted trying to free the sub from the debris of the Korean ship that was destroyed above them, they had to attempt any unorthodox method they could think of to free the submarine. The hull of the Korean ship kept the sub pinned to the ocean floor, and because they were so deep in the ocean, they couldn’t send people to remove the wreckage off the Atlanta because of the water pressure. To add to the list of options they couldn’t use, they couldn’t fire any explosives at the Korean ship because the debris would most likely land on the Atlanta and damage her even more, possibly putting the safety of the crew in even greater jeopardy. While it is unlikely that the GM would somehow be able to free them from captivity, it was the only option besides hoping an allied vessel stumbles upon them at the bottom of the ocean.

  ​What none of the crew knew, however, was that Captain Vade himself would be using the device. Even though he felt it was the right choice, he imagined that many of his officers would object, and his first officer and Ambassador Dakota Zephier would most likely have the loudest objections to his plan. Zephier was an ambassador of all the Native American tribes they had been transporting back to America when the attack had started. Though the opinions of his crew were something that he valued, and he would likely spend much time considering their arguments, it was unlikely that they would change his mind about his decision. He was the captain of the ship after all, and what he said goes.

  ​He walked to the end of the hallway and turned right to face a doorway with an elevator door held behind it. After pressing the button to call the elevator, and entering it once it arrived, Vade selected the level that would bring him to where the operations center was located. After waiting roughly twenty seconds for the elevator to complete its journey, the door chimed as the door slid into the wall, and Captain Vade exited the elevator as he continued his trek to the operations center. After walking down the hallway and turning right at an intersection, he reached the main entrance of ops. By the entrance to ops, a scanner was built into the wall on the right side of the door frame, where Vade placed his hand on the palm scanner moving his eye to the retina scanner. After he completed those scans, he then typed in his personal password on the keyboard bolted on the wall beneath the scanner
: Vade, Captain, A789, B217, D793.

  ​After waiting a moment while the computer processed the information, the screen above the scanner reported: “Scan and password accepted. Access granted: Captain Jack Vade.”

  ​The wall in front of him then slid up into the ceiling, allowing him to enter. The door was built this way for two purposes. If an intruder was attempting to gain access to the room, he would first have to find the part of the wall it was at, and then get through it, a process usually long enough for security teams to intercept them, in theory, anyway, as the Atlanta had been fortunate enough to not yet be boarded by aggressive forces. The wall was also built that way for the door to close quickly: gravity would usually pull the door down along with the door machinery at the same time, closing it in less than two seconds.

  ​The operations center was shaped like a half circle, with a door on each end of the flat end of the circle: one leading to a briefing room and the other door leading to a small supply room that held some food, water, and other supplies. In the circle part of the room, several computer consoles and displays were spread throughout it, some showing updates on the Atlanta’s current status, others showing visuals of the ocean outside from cameras equipped on the outer hull, but of course, all those monitors were dark because of the sub location at the bottom of the ocean.

  ​As Captain Vade entered the operations center, one of the officers noticed him, jumped to his feet, and announced “Captain on deck!”, causing the rest of the crewmen in the room to jump to attention as well.

  ​“As you were,” Vade said as he made his way to his first officer, Commander Adam Rickman, or “Rick” as many of the officers called him, who was overseeing an officer operating the radar equipment in the corner of the room. Rick was a white man with muscles that made him look like a body builder, and his crew cut style tan hair made him seem like a drill sergeant fresh from boot camp in addition to that.

  ​Rick saw Vade coming and walked over to him. “Did you need me, sir?”

  ​“I do, Commander. I want you to assemble a meeting of the senior staff in the briefing room at nineteen-hundred hours.”

  ​“Aye, Captain. I’ll get to it.” Commander Rickman walked away from the captain, reached a computer console, and sent a message to their communicators, small wrist devices that resembled watches, that functioned as ‘cell phones’ for officers that allowed them to interface with the Atlanta’s communication system, connect with the sub’s computer for status updates, activate a tracking device if they were captured, and many other features.

  ​While Rick sent the message, Captain Vade went to the briefing room to prepare for the briefing, and most likely a heated debate, that awaited him.

  Thirty minutes later…

  ​“You can’t be serious!!”

  ​The voice came from Lieutenant Commander Hayley, who had been assigned to lead the development of the GM, who was sitting near the end of the other side of the table where all the officers were sitting. “Sir, no disrespect, but we don’t know what the genetic modulator will do to you. While the results from our computer simulations may be promising to say the least, the information isn’t clear on what the effects of the device will be to the person using it, or if using it will result in later problems to your biological systems.”

  ​“I appreciate your concern, Lieutenant Commander. That is the same for all of you,” Vade said as he glanced at the other officers. “I take all of your concern for my wellbeing very seriously, and I would never want to dismiss any of your suggestions without thoroughly examining them. But, I believe I am the logical choice. I will not send other officers to this machine without knowledge of what it will do to them.”

  ​“Why do we have to use the device at all?” This came from Rick, who sat closest to where Captain Vade was seated. “I still doubt that we have explored every possible option. There just has to be some other way to get the Atlanta free.”

  ​“And we may find that option Rick, but we don’t have the time to wait while we look for it. Our food reserves where already low before this started, and we only have a week’s worth of food left, and that is with us rationing it.” Vade took a deep breath and pushed forward with his argument. “You all now I have commanded the Atlanta for over a year now, and I have commanded two ships before this. I have gained what I set out to achieve. If my end has come, I need it to end by doing everything I can to guarantee my crew’s safety, even if that means sacrificing my life to do it. Lieutenant Commander Hayley exactly how does the device work, and what are the advantages predicted from using the Genetic Modulator?”

  ​Trisha paused a few moments while she gathered her thoughts, and she then responded, “Well, theoretically, the GM device is supposed to emit an energy beam at the subject, using the nuclear core of the ship to power it, until the person’s body changes into a state of pure energy. When the subject reaches that stage, we then use the Genetic Modulator to alter their genetic code, allowing us to alter their physiology and genetics. After we have made the alterations, we then reconfigure the beam to ‘reassemble’ the person’s body from its energy form to its physical form. That is the predicted best-case scenario. But, Captain,” she warned, “we haven’t tested it on live subjects yet, never mind humans. All that I have told you is heavily based on computer simulations. I again strongly recommend against this course of action.”

  ​“I know, Commander. And be assured, I have made plans if things do not go well. Commander Rickman, if something happens to me during the experiment, resulting in me being unfit to command the ship, you will be the captain of the Atlanta. You will also oversee reassigning officers as you see fit.”

  ​“Understood, Captain” Rick replied, his voice slightly hoarse with emotion.

  ​“I know you all are concerned about me, and I am not blind to the risks involved. I am aware that I might not come out of that room alive. But I feel it is what I need to do. Does anyone have anything to add before we dismiss?” As he looked at the officers, Dakota Zephier, the Native American ambassador stood. He was deeply tanned, muscular, long hair, and wore light brown clothing with various tribal symbols inscribed across it.

  ​“Twenty years ago, a Native American chief saw our traditions fading like the paint on an old car. He knew he had to act, and has slowly begun forming a more unified sanctuary where we can all live in peace and follow our traditions. Many thought he was mad, and tried to stop him. But through his efforts, we now have the beginnings of a beautiful home for future generations to thrive in. Captain Vade, if you have same conviction that chief had, pursue it with all strength, and never waver in that task.”

  ​Zephier nodded to the captain, and then sat back down. The room was quiet for a moment, reflecting on what they heard. Captain Vade cleared his throat and said, “Thank you, ambassador.” He paused and said, “If no one has anything else to discuss, that concludes our meeting. Lieutenant Commander Hayley, when will the device be ready?”

  ​Lieutenant Commander Hayley shook her head to clear her thoughts, and replied, “The device will be operational tomorrow, by o-seven-hundred hours, Captain.”

  ​“Understood. Expect me to be there around that time. You are all dismissed.” As the officers left, Vade sat back down at the table. Why was he doing this? He asked himself. His father had always said he was a risk taker: leaping before he looked. Was it that, or was it more?

  ​“Captain?”

  ​Vade looked up to see Rick standing beside him. “Are you sure that this is the right choice, sir?” Though the commander was trying to hide his emotions, Vade could faintly see hope in his face that he hoped that Vade would reconsider his decision to use the Genetic Modulator.

  ​“Yes Rick, I am,” Vade replied, smiling softly as he said it.

  ​“Then, I respect and will support your decision, Captain. You’ve gotten us this far, you can get us out of this mess. Sir, if you don’t mind, may I be present to witness the procedure?”

  ​“Of course, Ri
ck. I would want you to be there. But Commander, make sure you’re prepared if something happens to me. I’ll need you to be at the top of your game if that happens.”

  ​“Understood, sir. I will see you there.” First Officer Rickman then left the room, leaving Vade alone with his thoughts, and concerns about the looming operation.

  Chapter 3

  Date: July 9, 2132.

  Location: Aboard the U.S.S. Atlanta, at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

  ​“What if we used the emergency surface protocol? It might be enough to get us free and closer to the surface.” Rick was standing next to the captain, who was sitting on a chair next to the operating table as he prepared to get strapped to it. The operating table was designed to keep Vade up in a near up-right position during the ‘operation’, if you could call it that. They were both in the Research and Development room, waiting as the GM was being prepared for activation. The Research and Development room was shaped like a rectangle, with numerous tables and shelves displaying a wide assortment of devices and machinery scattered throughout the room, though it was still cramped as it was built in a submarine. The Genetic Modulator was in the center of the room, with the operating table in its range. The GM was built with black, shiny metal, and shaped like a cone, with a barrel at the end of the narrow side of the cone. Several cords were attached at the end of the larger side of the device, linking it to the computers in the Research and Development room, and other cords were connected to the conduit that would transfer power from the nuclear reactor into the Genetic Modulator. Several engineers were scattered around the room, or performing modifications to the GM, making final adjustments for the operation.

  ​“We have already discussed this, Rick. Several of the air tubes were punctured when the Atlanta landed on the ocean floor, and the remaining tubes wouldn’t be able to free the sub. Besides, using the tubes would most likely breach the hull from the stress. It would just make the situation worse.”