Explorations: War

by Richard Fox

  In half a minute, a sleek shuttle rocketed from the collapsing rock formation, showering rubble in its wake.

  The absurd speed startled the daylights out of Edelman. “Oh no, you don’t!” The pilot punched buttons on her naviconsole. The ship’s engines instantly hummed louder.

  “Don’t lose them, Tash,” Marco ordered coolly.

  Tash scoffed over her shoulder. “Never.” The Mercury raced off in pursuit.

  Leaving a blue zigzag of engine exhaust behind them, the thieves raced past impossibly close to several formations, nose-diving under quite a few natural arches, scattering rock chunks everywhere. But Edelman kept on their tail, matching every sharp dive or hard turn with ice-cold confidence.

  And Marco was confident in her.

  What rankled him wasn’t just gaining fast enough, but the proximity of these colossal formations on all side preventing Naomi’s weapons to lock. Every time she had a straight shot, the shuttle nosedived or zigzagged out of range behind another tower of distorted red rock.

  “The pilot’s good,” Coulson observed unhelpfully. “Hopefully not better than you, Edelman?”

  Edelman snorted out a laugh. “That’s funny.”

  A yellow streak tore from the shuttle at the Mercury Runner—right as the ship zoomed through a narrow passage between two crimson arches.

  Without even cringing, Edelman rolled them upward. The ionic blast passed harmlessly under the ship. Another streak lanced past, striking the left arch they’d just looped around. Edelman gave the Mercury Runner a kick of speed, racing onward before the arch’s violent eruption pummeled the ship’s rear end.

  Bo gripped the edge of his workstation, annoyed. “They fired at us. In this crowded red forest??”

  “No shit, genius. Once that shuttle clears that last cluster of asteroids, they can leave us eating their cosmic dust,” Marco replied dryly.

  Errol stiffened. “That can't happen!”

  “It won’t.” Marco looked to Naomi. “How’s that target lock?”

  “Locked!” Naomi chirped with a dramatic thumbs up.

  “Respond accordingly.”

  Errol looked unhappy with that order. “Be careful where you—”

  “SHADDUP!” all four marshals yelled.

  Coulson shrank back, sullen and cowed. Naomi’s twin fiery salvos blistered across the unending red terrain. Several radiant dots peppered the rear of the shuttle. Now it was knocked into a violent tumble before slowing to a halt in twinkling space between asteroids.

  “Nice,” Edelman praised, raising her hand. Naomi replied with an eager high five.

  Marco nodded at his ordnance officer proudly. “Gives us enough time to catch up. Fire a few shots at their engines to disable—”

  “Seismic charge!” Bo barked.

  Marco scanned their viewscreen and saw it: a metallic canister hurtling their way, pushed along by a micro engine. His eyes widened. “DIVE!”

  The Mercury Runner plunged fast and far before the first shockwave hit. Suddenly their ship was in tumbling freefall, violent quakes shaking the ship from its hull to Marco’s bones. When the second tremor struck, up became down, right became left, and anything not pinned down bounced off everywhere. Marco was strapped to his seat as everything on the bridge became chaos. He gritted his teeth, keeping himself calm until the tumbling finally subsided. The rest of his crew reacted the same, rock-solid under pressure.

  Errol Coulson screamed the whole time like a fourteen-year-old girl at a cosmo pop concert.

  Marco fixed his hair and uniform, shaking off the dizziness. “Sneaky bastards!” he growled. “Damage report?”

  “Bumps and bruises,” Tash called back, stretching out her right shoulder. She scanned the naviconsole again. “The nearby rock formations took the brunt. Nothing worth cringing over.”

  Marco sighed in relief. “Good.” A disabled ship would tank this mission, and possibly their careers.

  Tash eyed a trembling Coulson and tried not to laugh. “You all right, cupcake?”

  The UEF ambassador spotted the mockery and immediately straightened in his seat. “I’m fine. Where is our target?”

  Behind them, Bo looked over his screens grimly. “Nothing but asteroids on my monitors—”

  Marco winced. Naomi swore not so quietly. Tash visibly deflated.

  Errol looked furious. “You’ve lost him,” he yelled, popping up and whirling on Bo. “How could you be so utterly incompetent with such a high-value target?”

  Marco grabbed Errol’s shoulder, yanking him back into his seat. “Insult one more member of my crew and you’ll be swallowing teeth.” The senior marshal didn’t raise his voice. But Errol’s bug-eyed reaction conveyed that he received the message.

  “Wasn’t done yet,” Bo continued. “I lost visuals on our prey, but I can still track their engine exhaust.”

  Marco felt a satisfied smile pull at his lips. “Where are they now?”

  Bo typed into his console and brought his findings up on the main screen. “Our target is heading for the upper atmosphere. Probably wants to achieve escape velocity.”

  “Beautiful. Prepping the ship’s outer-space settings.” Marco turned to Tash. “Follow suit!”

  Edelman’s fingers raced over her naviconsole. The Mercury Runner curved up and then rocketed toward the atmosphere. The sky then shifted from pale reddish orange to purple and then dark blue sprinkled with infinite sparkling diamonds.

  “Pull us out of this orbit, Tash,” Marco ordered.

  “Done!” Edelman punched her accelerator functions and the stars around them bled together into glittery light-blue streak lines. Everyone was pressed to their seats from the G force pressure, all the seat configurations unable to fully compensate. Alarms screamed and the speed increased...and then slowed.

  Bo popped upright, eyes wide and tight curls tousled. “Whoa! Whatta rush!”

  Naomi’s braids were askew and spilling down her back, but she looked quite exhilarated. Marco smiled, seeing that. He turned to watch Bo check his workstation monitors. “We cleared Mars’s gravity well.” the Aussie confirmed. “So has our quarry...who just landed in our crosshairs!”

  Marco turned to the main viewscreen. One side of the screen displayed the dusty crimson surface of Mars, and a tiny metal tube in orbit that had to be a research station. The main screen’s other end revealed their quarry zipping away at top speeds, leaving a fiery trail in their wake.

  And finally in clear firing range. Marco sneered. “Weapons locked?”

  Naomi turned her attention to the bigger prize. “Yes, sir!”

  Marco leaned back with a triumphant nod. “Destroy their goddamn engines.”

  “Wait!” Edelman’s stunned warning grabbed everyone’s attention.

  Naomi laid a concerned hand on her teammate’s wrist. “What is it, Tash?”

  Edelman turned from her to Marco. “Detecting a dangerous spike in exotic energy coming from the ship! Firing might not be the best idea.”

  From his workstation, Bo checked all the readings to confirm. “She’s right.”

  “LOOK!” Errol was gesturing frantically at the viewscreen.

  “Holy Jesus!” Naomi cried out.

  Edelman gasped. Bo let out a choice expletive.

  Marco saw it, and swore his heart stopped a full ten seconds.

  A colossal spiral of radiant emerald green mushroomed, swallowing the dark, starry void around the shuttle now hurtling for its center.

  “What the hell is that?” Marco asked numbly.

  Thankfully, Bo recovered quick enough to answer. The spiral’s illumination cast a harsh green glow over him and the whole bridge. “E-Energy output’s off the charts,” he stammered, both excited and terrified. “Our target just generated a wormhole. Unstable, but real.”

  Marco opened his mouth then closed it. He had nothing. These thieves had a wormhole generator, which, from what he knew, were only theoretical. So this is what they stole? Suddenly, his brain hurt.

 
; At a glance, the Mercury would never catch the shuttle before it fully entered the wormhole.

  “Oh good lord.” Naomi gestured at the viewscreen, still gobsmacked. “The ship is two minutes away from entering the wormhole. We have to go after it.”

  “And end up where?” Edelman threw back, looking pale and panicked. “Bo said it’s unstable. What if we get ripped apart when we enter? No job is worth that!”

  Errol reared up like a cobra. “Neither is the cost if that ship gets away. Don't just sit there, you idiot!” he barked at Marco. “Do your job!”

  “Ninety seconds till they enter,” Naomi announced tautly.

  Edelman turned to Marco imploringly. “But sir, where will we end up?”

  “Don’t lose that shuttle,” Marco ordered decisively. Edelman jolted back in her seat, surprised and clearly hurt. For a charged second Marco thought she might disobey his orders.

  Instead, she spun in her seat and accelerated them forward.

  “Shields up,” Marco ordered. “Punch us through that wormhole.” He still couldn’t believe the word wormhole had left his mouth.

  With thirty seconds to spare, they caught up to their shuttle as it entered the churning green abyss, and dove after them.

  Immediately the whole vessel shook and crunched loudly, like a piñata battered by ferocious bat swings. The main screen displayed forking energy trails slicing across their view, slamming into their ship from all sides.

  Despite him and his crew being strapped into their seats, Marco had never felt more unmoored. “Status!” he yelled above the clamor.

  “Shields taking a beating,” Edelman yelled back. “Already down to sixty-nine percent. Hull integrity isn't any better.”

  “Keep following!” Marco cried out, trying to stay in his seat. “No matter what!”

  Streaks of greenish energy slashed across the viewscreen. Angry pounding fists slammed repeated on all sides of the Mercury Runner’s hull. Marco’s crew, while alarmed, never cracked.

  Errol, however, clung to his seat for dear life, white as a sheet.

  “Shields down to forty-six percent,” Edelman loudly announced.

  “You got a tracker on that other ship?” Marco called to Bo.

  “Yes!” Bo confirmed, now sitting down for fear of getting flung across the bridge.

  Finally, some good news. “Stay on that!”

  “Whatever this wormhole is,” Naomi called out, “it’s collapsing, and will crush us like an egg.”

  More crunching sounded, sparks spurting out from all corners of the bridge. Marco and Naomi locked eyes. No words were exchanged. Both knew the job risks, and were prepared to see this mission through.

  “Another hole opened up,” Edelman exclaimed in relief. “The shuttle’s flying toward it. We’ll never reach it in time!”

  Marco refused to accept that. “Are we close enough for a tractor beam lock?”

  “Yes!” Naomi confirmed after a few moments.

  Marco could have kissed Naomi in that moment. “Do it! The other ship’s momentum will drag us through.” And not a moment too soon. Onscreen, the shuttle was racing toward a shrinking hole of pitch-black amid the churn of dark-green energy.

  Naomi did as ordered, fingers racing across her console. There was a sudden lurch forward, right as her eyes lit up. “Got the other ship!”

  Marco turned to Edelman. “Push us forward, Tash!”

  Edelman did just that, and suddenly Marco, along with every other bridge occupant, flattened against their seats again. The flight was quick, jarring, brutal, and nearly bone-shattering.

  Suddenly, the shaking and crunching stopped, along with the effervescent green bleeding all over the bridge. Everything regained its normal colors.

  “Incoming!” Edelman screamed, startling everyone.

  Marco gaped. The shuttle they had a tractor beam lock on was dead in space...right ahead. The Mercury was too close and approaching too fast to avoid. “Brace for impact!” he called out, right before the world went upside down. Marco clung to his seat, but could not avoid getting thrown off.

  The snow globe finally settled, and Marco lay there for several minutes. His ribs ached, either bruised or broken. He sat up slowly, wincing. “Everyone still alive?”

  His marshals’ groaning chorus of affirmatives answered. He offered a brief thank you to the Creator above before muscling upright. Naomi was shaking her head as if seeing stars. Hopefully she had no major injuries. Edelman looked out of it, but superficially injury-free. Bo looked the worst, cradling his right arm. Errol lay sprawled across both Marco’s and his own seat. The senior marshal yanked him upright with one hand. “You all right?”

  Errol looked flustered, ambassador threads torn and an angry red cut across his left cheek. Besides that, he looked unhurt. “I’m fine. Thanks for ask—AAHH!”

  The swift left jab snapped Errol’s head back. He crumpled to his knees as if in prayer, cradling his nose.

  Marco leaned over him, unsmiling yet satisfied. “That’s what happens if you insult a member of my crew, including me.” He turned from the groaning ambassador without another thought, then surveyed the Mercury’s bridge. Marco’s heart broke.

  Charred tech and sparking consoles lay strewn and smoldering across the cracked flooring, much of it beyond repair. The viewscreen still worked, despite a noticeable fissure running down its length.

  “Damage report,” he coughed out.

  Edelman raised her eyebrows. “Where do I even start?”

  Marco cringed. “Just tell me life support and artificial gravity aren’t compromised.”

  “We should be okay.” Edelman pushed stray locks from her face, revealing a nasty cut on her forehead. “But there are warnings on the CO2 regulators that concern me.”

  “Attend that first.” Marco walked up to the viewscreen, looking beyond the annoying crack. The shuttle floated before them, dead in space. Its ruined hull was dented and crumpled like tinfoil, lights flickering and sparks spurting from various cracks. “Any more problems from that shuttle?”

  “None,” Edelman announced in relief. “Engines and basic navigation are trashed. They’re not going anywhere.”

  Small blessings. Marco took in the surrounding stretch of outer space, recognizing none of the constellations. He always could ID at least a few stars anywhere in the United Earth Foundation’s swath of space. “Bo, where are we?”

  Bo was breathing a bit too labored for his liking. “No clue, but nowhere near UEF space.”

  Marco grounded his teeth. “Of course not. That would be too easy. Our bio scanner still working?”

  “Very much.” Leaning heavily against his console, Bo squinted at his mini viewscreens. “I’m clocking three life signs on that shuttle.”

  Naomi turned sharply and frowned. “Weren't there four?”

  Bo nodded. That meant one had died in the wormhole chase.

  Marco felt zero sympathy. Time to bring these jokers in. “Edelman. If you feel our life support won’t die at any given minute, use those paramedic skills on Bo first.”

  Bo looked ready to protest, until Marco glared him down. The senior marshal turned to his ordnance officer. “Naomi. You and I are going on a field trip. Two space suits and some firearms ought to do it. And a fusion torch to breach the shuttle's hull—”

  “Not without me.” Every marshal on the bridge turned.

  Errol Coulson appeared in Marco’s path, his nose bloodied yet unbroken. His eyes, puffy from swelling, were as unyielding as his words.

  Edelman wasn’t impressed. “Not happening, cupcake,” she snorted in derision while weaving toward Bo.

  Errol breathed out through his mouth. “You don't even know what these people stole.”

  Naomi rolled her eyes. “I’m guessing that wormhole generator.” She and Marco moved past him.

  Errol blocked their departure. “Paltry compared to their true theft.”

  Marco’s exhausted patience, exacerbated by a pounding headache, blossomed into
fulsome fury. “What else did they steal?” Getting in Errol’s face, he didn’t bother reining in his anger. “Tell us and then move!”

  Errol didn’t cower. No smugness or condescension lived in his next words. “You wouldn’t believe me. I’ll have to show you. Earth’s future depends on it.”

  For a moment, Marco considered punching him until he talked. But the urge of not being able to stop came to mind. “Once we’re on that ship, you do everything I say,” he said, pointing at Errol’s face. “Understand?”

  When the ambassador nodded amenably, Errol strode for the bridge exit. “Edelman, we’ll link the vidcams of our spacesuits to the main viewscreen.” He glanced at Naomi, keeping pace with his long strides, and smiled. Marco couldn’t have picked a better partner in the field. “Let’s get three suits ready.”

  Half an hour later, the trio were in sleek grey spacesuits, floating in zero G and surrounded by unending, twinkling darkness. Led by Marco, they were scaling a towline hooking the Mercury to the dead shuttle. Up close, that shuttle was a ruin. Jagged fractures ran along its length and it had a shattered spine. This ship was dead. The Mercury Runner didn’t look much better from the outside. Naomi’s fusion torch had enough juice to overcome the absolute zero cold of outer space, carving a small round hole into the port side’s middle. After a brief and violent expulsion of atmosphere, Marco and Naomi guided Coulson inside before the shuttle’s forcefield sealed off the breach. Ceiling lights flickered rapidly inside, struggling to stay on.

  “Atmosphere is breathable,” Marco called over his helmet's com channel. He tapped a button on the collar of his helmet. Immediately the forcefield making up his bubble-like helmet winked out. Marco inhaled a deep breath, tasting the burnt stench of a wrecked ship. A charred haze fogged up the air, despite its breathability.

  Naomi did the same, grimacing at the inescapable stink. “Looks like some cargo bay.”

  Turning off his helmet’s main bubble forcefield, Errol stuffed a hand into his utility belt and withdrew three pairs of goggles. “Put these on.” He thrust one in Marco’s face.

  The senior marshal jerked away, annoyed. “Why?”

  Coulson persisted. “Trust me. If you want to safely return what was stolen, you have to wear these.”