Galactic Defenders- Endurance

by Michael Mishoe

  ​Captain Whitefield cleared his throat. “If we could get to the matter at hand, Captain Syvon?”

  ​“I apologize, Captain Whitefield,” Syvon replied with a sly grin on his face. “It isn’t often I get to give a tour of my ship. Lieutenant Olo, I understand that you have some field experience conducting search patrols through difficult terrain. Is this correct?”

  ​Olo nodded. “Yes, sir, it is. Did you have a job in mind that would require that experience?”

  ​ “Yes, Lieutenant. I need you to lead a search party to scout the island we are to rendezvous at, and if you encounter any Ribiyar, you need to do your best to eliminate their presence there. Our forces can’t afford to be ambushed before we even begin to try to free the people from the holding prison. Also, when you assemble the search party, I want Victor Davidson to be included in the group.”

  ​Olo hesitated. “Begging your pardon, sir, but may I ask why?”

  ​“If there are Ribiyar on the island, you’ll want Victor with you. He has acquired some powerful battle equipment that will make him a valuable asset for your team.” Sensing Olo’s reluctance, Captain Syvon asked, “Do you have something against Victor, Lieutenant?”

  ​Olo took a deep breath and said, “I do, sir. Five years ago, my parents were murdered while I was away on an assignment. I returned home to find my parents both dead in the living room. I called the authorities, and after going through the murder scene, they found Victor’s DNA in the house, but when it went to court, Victor managed to get off free because of the team of lawyers he hired. It’s an understatement to say that I’m not comfortable working with him.”

  ​Both captains were silent for a moment, and then Captain Syvon said, “I see. Personally, I myself greatly dislike being around the man, so I vaguely understand your… discomfort. I am truly sorry about what happened with your parents Oakland, and I wish I could do something to bring justice to their deaths. But unfortunately, there’s nothing we can do to punish him at the moment. Like it or not he’s vital in our fight against the Ribiyar, and I still need you to work by his side. Can you do this?”

  ​“I’ll do my best sir, and I will inform you if the situation gets out of hand between me and Victor.”

  ​Captain Syvon nodded. “Good. I know you can do it. I recommend that you go visit Davidson and see his equipment in use. That might help you form a strategy if you should fight the Ribiyar. I’ll take the two of you to where he is training.”

  ​Captain Syvon led Captain Whitefield and Olo down to the third level of the Thunderfox, where a small training room was located. The training room was a medium sized room with a training mat in the middle, three punching bags near the metal plated back wall, and several lockers populated the two side walls to provide storage room for the officers’ training in the room.

  ​When the group arrived in the training room, the only person in the room was Victor, which wasn’t surprising to Olo, considering Victor’s current appearance, and his general attitude to everyone around him. Victor was wearing a suit of armor, but it was like nothing Olo had ever seen before. The armor was tan, with green serpent stripes along all of it. On Victor’s back was a metallic, whip-like device, colored a mixture of tan and dark green, coiled into a lump, and the end of the whip trailed down to the back of Victor’s waist. Two rectangular, blaster-like devices were attached to his arms, though Olo couldn’t even guess what type of guns they were, and the ends of Victor’s hands were razor sharp claws that looked like they could slice through a boulder. On Victor’s head was a metal helmet, that had the appearance of a snake mask, a large, tan python like-head with dark, menacing green eyes that covered the top half of his face that hid his eyes and nose while leaving his mouth uncovered. The green eyes on the mask moved around the room as Victor practiced martial art moves, possibly following Victors’ eye movements inside the mask. Lastly, Victor held a sword handle in his hand, a dark purple handle with blood-red wings at the top, though the device had no blade on the end of it. Victor noticed the group enter and walked over to them.

  ​“So, you like my new duds?” Victor asked. “It was part of my payment for participating in the o-so-honorable fight for life, survival, freedom, and all that other junk.”

  ​“What happened to your sword?” Olo asked, trying to keep his voice even. Just being in the same room with the man made him want to grab the nearest gun and put Victor out of his misery. “You break one of your new toys already?”

  ​“This?” Victor said, lifting the handle up in the air with admiration. “This, is the Phantom Blade. The last of the original Hydra-class weapons. And best of all, it’s fully functional, and ready for a taste of those robotic aliens.” Olo was skeptical of the weapons functionality. Early in 2115, the CIA got intel about a prototype energy blade, a class of weapon known as Hydra’s because of their potential lethality, that were going to be auctioned off in the black market to the highest bidders. They intercepted the exchange with the buyers, and all but one of the blades were destroyed in the following firefight, the surviving one taken in by the CIA agents. After examining the device, they declared the blade non-functional, determining that the power core in the device apparently didn’t possess enough power to project the energy blade, making the Phantom Blade worthless. After the CIA’s intervention at the auction, no more of the Hydra weapons had been reported sold, or even made. As far as anyone knew, the knowledge of how to make the blade was lost when the sellers were killed in the firefight.

  ​“So, you doubt my truthfulness?” Victor asked, seeing Olo’s skepticism. “Very well.” Victor pressed a button on the handle, the wings of the handle sparked and an energy bolt erupted in between the wings. The energy bolt expanded outward from the handle, eventually creating an energy form twelve feet long. The energy bolt sharpened into a solid form, resulting in a dark reddish-purple energy blade. Though Olo tried to hide his surprise of the device’s functionality, he couldn’t help a look of shock forming on his face. Captain Syvon was the most surprised of the blades’ functionality.

  ​“How did you manage to get it working?” Captain Syvon asked surprise apparent in his voice. Clearly, he hadn’t thought Victor would be able to activate the device when the CIA’s best engineers had failed to do so.

  ​“Magicians never reveal their tricks to outsiders, my dear Captain. Did you really think I’d ask for this as part of my payment if I couldn’t make it work?”

  ​“Ok, so it’s a blade made of energy. So what?” Olo remarked, pretending not to be impressed with the Phantom Blade. Victor glared at Olo from behind the snake mask. Victor pressed another button on the handle, and swung the Phantom Blade. The sword flung off the handle, slicing through a chain that held a boxing bag up. The bag fell to the floor as the energy blade continued toward the wall of the room. The blade sliced into the wall, making a gash in the metal plating, and evaporated as the energy lost coherence. On the Phantom Blade handle, a new energy blade materialized.

  ​“That, Ollie, is why the blade is so special.” Victor remarked as he deactivated the blade and clipped the handle to his waist.

  ​“Victor! Do you know how hard it is to replace those metal plates?” Captain Syvon exclaimed.

  ​“Save your breath captain,” Victor replied curtly. “You paid me to be an asset to your rebellion against these aliens. ‘Not breaking equipment’ wasn’t part of my contract.” Olo could tell that Captain Syvon wanted to yell at Victor more, but the captain held his tongue. He guessed that Victor was right about him not having to go gentle with the Defenders’ equipment, but that didn’t mean Syvon had to like it. Syvon’s communicator beeped, and he activated the wrist device and lifted it to his face to talk into the device.

  ​“Captain Syvon here. What is it?”

  ​“Commander Ton reporting, captain. Sir, the Ocean-Walker is ready for travel. We have been able to access their H-drive, and two of their engines are operational. We will be able to rendezvous with the fleet ahead of sche
dule.”

  ​“Good work, Commander. Have the repair crews remain on the Ocean-Walker to continue what repairs they can from inside the vessel. We’re going to need to repair that ship as much as we can in the time that we have. Inform any other engineers we can spare aboard the Thunderfox to report to you on the Ocean-Walker soon. I want us to get underway within fifteen minutes, and we can’t transfer officers while we travel there.”

  ​“Understood, sir. Commander Ton out.”

  ​“I should get back to my ship and oversee operations.” Captain Whitefield said.

  ​“Indeed. Lieutenant Olo, I want you to remain here to prepare for the mission. Is it alright if he transfers to my command, at least for the time being, Captain Whitefield?”

  ​“It is, Captain Syvon. Lieutenant Oakland, you are to be under Captain Syvon’s command for as long as he needs your services, understood?”

  ​“Yes, sir. If I can make one request, Captain Whitefield, will you make sure that Blitz is returned to my quarters so I can try to repair him?”

  ​“What is Blitz?” Captain Syvon asked.

  ​“An E.V.A.N. Oakland has been charged with taking care of. Yes, Lieutenant, I’ll make sure it is moved to your quarters for you.”

  ​“An E.V.A.N.?” Victor said, suddenly interested in the conversation. “I should’ve put one of those on my payment list.”

  ​“Not now, Victor,” Captain Syvon replied. “We have bigger things to worry about than your paycheck. Lieutenant Oakland, I will get you the roster for the officers available for this mission and let you get to work assembling your team.”

  ​“I’d better get back to the Ocean-Walker and get the ship ready for the trip to the rendezvous,” Whitefield said as he moved toward the door. “Good luck with your search, Lieutenant,” Whitefield said, glancing toward Victor, who had moved to one of the punching bags and was furiously unleashing his might into it. “You’re going to need it.”

  ​Olo couldn’t agree with Whitefield more, and hoped that he could keep his emotions in check, so Victor didn’t experience an ‘untimely demise’ of his own.

  Date: July 9, 2132.

  Location: Aboard a fighter docked on the Ribiyar vessel, at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

  ​“Vade to Captain Rickman. We are ready to depart.” Jack stood in one of the fighters that were docked on the alien ship. With some minor repairs, the fighters were soon restored from the ill effects caused by the electromagnetic pulse, and the landing party was now ready to head for the island to collect much needed food for the Atlanta’s crew. Along with Jacks fighter, there were six other fighters, and a total of fifteen crewmen divided among the ships, that would be used for the mission, leaving the remaining twenty or so fighters behind if the Atlanta’s crew needed them. The ovular interior of the fighter was difficult at first for the crew members to adjust to, and as there were no seats to rest on during the flight, they were forced the occupants to hold onto the consoles for support during the journey. The holographic display activated as the ship awoke from its slumber, giving the crew a look at the alien vessel docking lanes, and the dark environment around them.

  ​Among the eight members of the Atlanta’s crew who accompanied Jack in the fighter, Chief Lexton and Doctor Sadie McGriffen, a tall, brown haired woman who served as the Atlanta’s commanding medical officer, were standing by to relay commands to the other fighter crews, though Jack would be the one to do the flying from his computer connection with the fighters. Doctor McGriffen insisted on coming along to make sure that the crew didn’t take back any food or plants that could be poisonous to the officers, and to provide medical assistance if they were attached on the island. Along with the crewman who rode in the fighters, two Recon Drones also accompanied them, attaching themselves to consoles in the ships, to improve the computer connection with Jack, and to provide additional firepower for the crew on the island, should they encounter the aliens as they searched for food.

  ​“Understood, Jack,” Captain Rickman responded. “You are cleared for takeoff. If possible, maintain radio silence, but you can contact us for support if you are attacked and it is absolutely necessary. If that happens, we will provide cover fire for you, but that would expose the ship and lose the element of surprise.”

  ​“Acknowledged. I will take care to keep the ship undetected. It would be an unnecessary risk to expose the ship’s existence this early and put everyone at risk.” As the docking clamps detached from the fighters and retracted back into the hull of the alien vessel, the primary power cores on the fighters activated, giving life to their engines and weapon systems. Jack gave commands to the fighters’ computers, and the group sped through the ocean and made the journey towards the island. After over twenty minutes of travel, Jack took the fighters out of the ocean, bringing them into the bright illumination of the sun, which they hadn’t encountered for what had felt like an eternity. As the fighters soared through the air, they quickly came to a decently sized island nearby. Towering trees populated the island’s surface, and a large mountain-like hill sat near the center of the island.

  ​“Jack, I think I see a good place to land in that clearing over there.” Chief Lexton spoke, pointing toward a clearing in the palm trees that would just be big enough for their seven vessels to land in.

  ​“I see it. Adjusting course now.” Using the shuttles computers, Jack brought the fighters to the clearing, and after six landing stilts ejected from the hull and positioned themselves to support the craft, the fighters landed with a small thud on the ground. In the back of the interior of the fighters, a ramp lowered down so they could exit their craft. The Recon Drones emerged from the fighters first, scanning the area for any Ribiyar near the landing site, there blue scanning beams dancing across the area. Once the drones confirmed the site was safe, the crew exited their shuttles, enjoying their first exposure to the sun in many days. Around the fighters, there were many large coconut and palm trees, with green fruit hanging from many of them. There were also tall grass weeds that blocked a clear view of what laid beyond the trees.

  ​Chief Lexton got to work at once. “All right, here is the plan. Lieutenant’s Carter, Jessics, and Ensign Mathews, stay here and guard the fighters. Three drones will remain with you to ward off any attacks but be watchful for any aliens. We don’t know how much they’ve spread through the planet, but we need to be careful. Understood?”

  ​“Yes, sir,” the officers responded.

  ​“Jack, I want you to head to that hill over there.” She said, pointing at a mound near the center of the island. “I want you to be our scout in the area, spot out food for us to gather, but be on the lookout for aliens as well. I need you to approach the hill on foot. I don’t want the chance of them spotting you flying there, though admittedly, if they are here, they most likely already saw us when we approached the island in the fighters.”

  ​Jack nodded. “Understood, Chief Lexton.”

  ​“The rest of you, pair up in groups of three, and take a drone with you for some additional firepower and to function as a scanner to detect the aliens. Now, let’s get some food so our crew doesn’t starve while we’re exploring this island!” Before they left the clearing, the crew made sure to grab weapons that the Ribiyar had stored on their vessel, which Jack had managed to repair and briefly instruct them how they worked. Now, most of the group carried the alien weapons with them, mostly the double-barreled rifle, providing them with stronger firepower than they would’ve had using their own guns. After gathering their gear, the group split up, and went into the depths of the forest of the island.

  ​Jack quickly made his way through the thick trees and vegetation growing on the island, encountering a high number of fruit that he would report to the group once he reached his position above the mound near the middle of the island. But after running through the forest for only a few minutes, his enhanced hearing began to detect something moving through the trees, following him as he traveled on the island. Jack stopp
ed in a thick patch of tall grass and scanned the area for anything that was following him, not using his beam scanners to conceal his location, but he didn’t detect anything that looked threatening. Cautiously continuing his trek to the small mountain, he moved out from behind the grass, but a dark green bolt of energy struck him in the back, and the impact threw him against a tall tree, knocking some fruit perched on its branches to the ground around him.

  ​Jack pushed himself off the tree and straightened himself, and scanned the area once again, this time using his hand-beam scanners to improve the resolution of the scan. Still finding nothing on his sensors, Jack used his sensor equipment to emit a low-frequency electromagnetic pulse. If anyone was using an advanced form of stealth technology to hide himself, the EMP would interfere with the equipment and expose their location, and Jack took care to make sure the pulse wasn’t potent enough to damage his own circuitry in the process. Once the sensors were configured, Jack produced the electromagnetic pulse, and a distorted form of a person materialized on the upper branches of a tree near Jack. The person’s form shimmered and sparked as the stealth technology concealing him started to malfunction, until finally the stealth field dissipated; revealing a person in armor, colored tan with green snake-like stripes, along with a menacing snake mask attached to his helmet in the trees. The snake-person jumped down from the tree, landing a few feet away in front of him.

  ​Jack aimed the V-gun on his right arm at the stranger. “Identify yourself,” Jack said to his stalker, who maintained a very calm and controlled appearance, despite the weapon aimed at him.

  ​“Shouldn’t you be doing the explaining?” The person replied. “Like how you just happen to travel in those Ribiyar fighters I saw as I got here, and how you just happen to be on the island where I’m supposed to exterminate any Ribiyar I find?”