Galactic Frontiers: A Collection of Space Opera and Military Science Fiction Stories

by Jay Allan

  Well, aside from good old joshing each other. If nothing else, that added to the camaraderie.

  Hence his name, “Big B.” He chose to ignore it, however, as he still wasn’t sure if it was just her way of complimenting him, hitting on him, or, somehow, mocking him.

  Mostly, he didn’t give a damn. He was here to get clean and get into the briefing room so he could find out if he’d made the cut.

  “Not so talkative, huh?” LCpl Pollucks said, exiting his shower and wrapping a towel around himself. “You couldn’t have done that bad, not our very own Sgt. Helms. Come on, Brent, give us the low down.”

  “The low down is I kicked the simulations ass,” Brent said, unable to keep the smile subdued. “I mean, damn, you shoulda seen me.”

  Sgt. Massie leaned over the shower wall and glanced down. “Couldn’t have been much better than what I’m seeing right now.”

  Pollucks laughed at that, and a couple of the others showering nearby glanced over with smirks.

  “Okay, I think I’m going to have to stop coming in here when Massie’s around.” He turned his back to her, but that just caused her to whistle. “Oh for the love of—hey, Pollucks, I’m honestly not sure how safe I feel with her in here.”

  He was joking, but Massie backed off. “Just saying, if I had a body like yours….”

  It was his turn now, he figured so he glanced over and smirked, more for show than to get a look. “You’d be a weird looking chick, and I gotta say, it’d be downgrade.”

  “That so?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I never said anything about a body like yours instead of mine.”

  He shook his head. “All right, all right. Enough playing around.” The water was getting cold anyway, so he quickly rinsed the soap off and grabbed a towel, careful to move out of Massie’s line of sight as he dried himself off.

  Something must’ve gotten into her, he figured. She wasn’t normally so playful. Most likely, it was the adrenaline rush from them all finally getting the chance they’d been training for.

  Nine months they’d spent out here, training nonstop, and today one of them would get to try out the big shots.

  “You sure you ready for it,” Pollucks said, pulling on a fresh uniform.

  “Killing Goldies?” Brent tossed his towel aside and caught Massie pretending not to glance over as she walked past and then purposefully dropped her towel nearby. “Hell yes I am. If I have to sit around in this training station one more year, I’ll lose it, I swear.”

  Mass shot him a glare. “My teasing getting to you that bad, huh?”

  “Girl, you know it’s not you.” He pulled on his uniform, loving how the newest version—black with silver stripes like a tiger, as impractical as it was, looked badass and felt like pajamas. “Every day I’m here I see the face of my brother saying goodbye, and I know I’ll never see that face again. But instead of me being out there making a difference, I’m here… training.”

  She gave him a pointed look, hands on nude hips. “You know the suckers are the ones doing all the real killing anyway, right?”

  “Massie, you mind?” He motioned to her body. She shrugged, then turned to find her uniform.

  He pursed his lips, shaking his head. If it wasn’t so clouded with the pressure of this test and from not being able to move on, considering the fact that he had practically lost everyone, maybe things would be different with them. His body sure wanted it be to so.

  Maybe, he thought… maybe if he wasn’t chosen this time, he’d see if she wanted to take a walk, get one of the biannual excursions to one of the local moons.

  Hell, maybe he would take her up on her offer to let off some steam in the sack.

  But first as nice as all that sounded, he hoped to all that was holy that he would get to go out there and kill those bastards.

  “You missed the point of my question completely,” Pollucks said when all three were dressed. “I mean… you know everyone says we shouldn’t be out there fighting with them. That humans don’t belong on the front line, not when those blood-suckers can regenerate their health and all that.”

  “They don’t like to be called that,” Brent said. “Show some respect.”

  “Respect?” Pollucks scoffed. “Fine, vampires then. Though I don’t see how that’s more politically correct. What I’m saying is, humans and vampires fighting together… what if one of them decides they’re hungry and turn on you?”

  “Vampires haven’t fed on humans since the days of Earth, jackass.” Brent noticed the doubtful look from Massie, but chose to ignore it. Everyone knew the rumors of the black markets for human blood, or the red light districts on certain planets, where instead of sex bought, it was the privilege to end a life. It was sick, and maybe not true. Probably true… but he hoped not. Because one way or another, he meant to get out there and fight against the Goldies.

  As if reading his mind, Massie chimed in and said, “Fact of the matter is, those vampires are shit with suppressive fire. They need people like us, they need gunners.”

  “And,” Brent continued for her, “we don’t stand a chance against Goldies. A thousand bullets, they just keep on coming. I hear it’s their blood, man. Like, that shit just keeps healing them, but once a vampire gets on them, sucks it clean out, BAM! One bullet to the head and they’re done for.”

  “But you ain’t never seen that,” Pollucks said.

  “I don’t need to see it to get it,” Brent said. “Why else rely on vampires so heavily? Gunney told me that’s what it’s all about. That’s why they recruited the vamps to begin with. Otherwise they’d still be off on the dark side of butt-crack nowhere, sucking on any unlucky explorer they could find.”

  “Let’s just hope one of us finds out.” Massie stopped at the doorway to the briefing room, looking every bit the Marine now that she was clothed in her uniform. “Ready, gentlemen?”

  “I’m ready,” Brent said. “But gentle? This man is no such thing.”

  He strode in through the sliding doors, with the other two close behind. They found three chairs near the front, in a room of about thirty other trainees.

  Everyone here had been serving for the required two years it took to be eligible to apply for this training program, and each of them had trained for the required nine months before attempting the tests. Some had been here multiple years, as they refused to give up trying.

  At least the room smelled clean—fresh Marines from the showers, all in newly washed and pressed uniforms.

  The door at the front of the room opened and out stepped Gunnery Sergeant Harris, the woman with the news that would make or break them. She didn’t wear the work uniform they all had on, but wore her ceremonial garb—black with gold stripes along the arms, similar to the blaster weapons they favored so. Her buttons were red, along with the lines at her collar that moved around her neck. The red were signs of respect for their vampire brothers and sisters in arms.

  Especially here, showing them respect was of utmost importance.

  “Thirty Marines,” Gunny said, looking each of them in the eye in turn before she opened her mouth again. “But only one of you is going up there tonight… Only one of you will be accompanying the S.S. Nos Veratus into the far reaches of the galaxy to kill as many of those wanna-be immortal scum lickers, those damned Goldies, as you possibly can before they absorb your life force. Next thing you know, Sarah here,” she gestured to Sarah, who had taken the stage without Brent noticing, “will be back here to request a replacement.”

  Sarah shot Brent a nasty glare, and he felt himself sink as she shook her head, just barely. Did that mean he hadn’t made the cut, or simply that she still had it in for him after his attack during the test?

  It had always seemed weird to Brent that the vampires refused a rank, and went by their first names, yet were still part of the Marine Corps. But, since they were the only defense holding off the Goldies, there wasn’t much that could be said about it.

  “If anyone here isn’t comfortable laying down y
our life for your Corps,” Gunny Harris continued, “I advise you stand up and leave now. Stand up, take of the uniform you don’t deserve to wear, and get the hell off my training station. Because this, ladies and gentlemen, is war. Do I have any takers?” She waited, then said, “I didn’t think so.”

  With a nod, she stepped back and Sarah took her place. In her hands was the uniform of one of the elite. It was a combat uniform, that would be covered in battle armor and an exo-skeleton, naturally, but the red collar would always show, so everyone knew you were the top of the top, a fighter alongside the vampires.

  She took her turn now, surveying the crowd. “You all fought bravely, as my fellow vampires tell me, and the panel weighed you all with much deliberation. But, it’s with great pride….” her eyes narrowed and it was clear she didn’t agree with the phrasing she was requested to use here, and then her eyes moved to Bren. His breath caught, and then he felt like dancing as she said, “…that I welcome Sgt. Brent Helms to don a new uniform. To join us on the battlefield. You will be tested, you will be weighed, and you will do your utmost to serve our great Empire. Do you accept?”

  Brent stood, hands at his sides and shouted, “Damn straight I accept.”

  “A simple oorah from the crowd should suffice,” Sarah said, and for the first time he could remember, she actually smiled as the room filled with an echoing, “OORAH!”

  His heart was pounding with excitement, but when he turned to smile at Pollucks and then Massie, he saw frustration and jealousy in their expressions.

  “Congrats,” Massie said, then stood and stormed out.

  “She really means it,” Pollucks said, then looked sideways, and stuck out a hand. “You deserve it, man. There’s no question about that.”

  “We all do,” Brent said as they shook hands. “You’ll get your chance.”

  “Hey,” Pollucks said, his face lighting up slightly. “At least I can be the one to help take Massie’s mind off of you while you’re gone. That ought to be fun.”

  Brent laughed. “Yes, indeed.”

  “Sgt. Helms,” Gunny said, and he saw her and Sarah waiting for him. He excused himself and jogged over to accept the uniform.

  Only, when Sarah handed him the uniform, she wouldn’t let go. Gunny’s eyes darted between the two, before saying, “Congratulations,” and stepping in to take the uniform from Sarah and hand it over.

  “Thank you, Gunny.” He said, doing his best to give her the respect she deserved by looking her in the eye, yet not seem like he was backing off from Sarah’s stare.

  “I trust you’ll fit right in up there,” Gunny said, her lack of a smile and wary glance Sarah’s direction showing that she believed no such thing. “And Sarah, do try to do a better job of protecting this one.”

  “You got it,” Sarah said with a smile that showed her extended fangs. It wasn’t necessary, considering the fact that their fangs retracted when they wanted them to, but it wasn’t against the rules to walk around with them extended.

  That didn’t mean Brent had to like it, and he reminded himself to keep an eye on this one. Did he have to stab the knife in her so hard during training? Maybe not, but then again, if he hadn’t, he might not have won and he might not have been selected.

  So whatever repercussions his actions brought down the line, he’d have to accept as worth it.

  “C’mon, Helms, it’s time you meet the team.” Sarah turned and walked off, obviously expecting him to follow.

  “Sarah,” Gunny said, with a hint of irritation in her voice. “Maybe he should get changed first.”

  Sarah stopped, turned back with a look of disgust that Gunny clearly noticed by the way she cleared her throat, and then shrugged before heading for the door. Before the door closed behind her, she glanced back and said, “Just make sure you’re at Squad Bay Double-O in fifteen, Helms.”

  The door closed, leaving him and Gunny standing there, staring after her.

  “You know what you’re getting into?” Gunny said. “I mean, last chance to back out and all.”

  “You survived,” he said.

  “Barely.” She smirked, then moved aside her collar to show two tiny round scars. “It was a close call.”

  “Your own team?” he said, aghast.

  “It was a different time,” she said, then puckered her lips and thought about it. “Well, here’s to hoping it was, anyway.” With a glance at her watch, she said, “Best hurry, time’s ticking away and you do not want to start off on the wrong foot here.”

  “Yes, Gunny,” he said, and then, uniform under his arm, took off to his room to get changed.

  Only, when he entered, Massie was lying in his bed, waiting. She was clothed, if you count short shorts and a tight, revealing t-shirt as clothed.

  “I don’t have time for this,” Brent said with a quick glance her way. He turned and began stripping to put on his uniform.

  “And if you die in a week? Or tomorrow?” She stood and came up behind him just as he had removed his shirt, then wrapped her arms around him, caressing his muscular, bare chest. “I’d hate for you to have any regrets.”

  “Massie…” He froze, biting his lower lip as her hands moved down and began removing his pants and her breath came softly in his ear.

  “Just shut up,” she said, kissing his neck. “You might not remember me, but I was in your class back at Empiric orientation. I remember that day, when they told us our families were gone, and I remember how you corralled everyone, kept us calm. Shit, I would’ve lost it that day if not for you.”

  “I never knew.” He turned to look at her, seeing that the playful expression was gone. “All this, it’s not… I mean, I don’t act this way with other guys. So can you just shut up for one minute and pretend I mean as much to you as you mean to me before you go?”

  Her hands were at the cusp of his pants, frozen there as she looked into his eyes, searching for whatever it was she wanted from him.

  A warmth spread through his chest, in spite of the chill in the room, and he pulled her in close, pressing his lips to hers and tasting the sweet vanilla that he imagined must’ve come from a stop by the station’s café before coming here—an energy burst, for confidence, he guessed.

  She was collapsing into him, pulling off the rest of his clothes, and he went with it, but when they were on his bed, their exposed skin pressed together, he pulled back and glanced at the clock.

  “If I’m not there in nine minutes, I’m good as dead.”

  “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard,” she said, with a playful wink. “But all I said I needed was one minute, right?”

  He laughed, then kissed her again.

  A minute and thirty seconds later, he lay back, breathing heavy, and completely pissed at himself for ignoring her advances all this time. What a missed opportunity, he thought as he imagined all the time they could’ve spent getting to know each other, in and out of bed.

  “Told ya,” she said, her fingers tracing his nipple. She gave him a little pinch, and then jumped out of bed. “Now hurry up and get dressed, or I’m gonna kick your butt.”

  He laughed and rolled over, grabbed his new uniform and was about to put it on, when she stopped him.

  “Allow me,” she said and began dressing him. “Hmm, I never had a doll growing up, you know.” She fastened his shirt, placing a firm kiss on him when she did the collar. “Especially not an anatomically correct one. It’s a shame to lose my play toy so soon after finally getting it.”

  He laughed and swatted her hand away from his crotch. “Hey, is it tough out there? Of course, but that’s what we’re all here for. I came up here thinking I might die, and maybe I will.”

  She frowned. “Don’t say that.”

  “But,” he held up a finger. “Now I have a reason to come back.”

  She laughed and smoothed out his sleeves before nodding to the clock. “Get to work, Sgt. Helms. Your Empire needs you.”

  He gave her a hug and a kiss on the forehead. With a chuckl
e, he slipped on his combat boots and headed off.

  The halls of the space station felt exceptionally bright as he made his way to Squad Bay Double-O, a play on words that the vampires had insisted on. No one was allowed in there except them, and the humans that made it to their team.

  So when he paused at the doorway, hand raised as he was about to scan it to enter, he breathed deeply and closed his eyes, considering what he was about to get into. He remembered playing with his father when they were young, running through the woods and shooting fake plasma blasters, taking turns playing the good guys. He’d gotten his foot stuck in the mud and twisted his ankle, and still remembered the way his father had picked him up, kissed his ankle, and told him that no matter how much it hurt, or how scared he was, it was all in the moment.

  “Think of the big picture,” his dad had said. “Learn to be more careful next time, but don’t be afraid to have fun. Just watch your step, and get up and do it again.”

  Get up and do it again… Those words stayed with him, and right now they were taking on a different meaning. Life could start again, for him. Caring, maybe even love someday, could exist again in his heart… but only after those sons-of-bitches out there got what was coming to them.

  The people back home, all dead now, deserved justice. They deserved revenge.

  Brent was damn sure going to make sure they got it.

  He scanned his hand, and the door panel went from red to green, before the doors slid open.

  A smell like death wafted out from the room. He stepped in, unsure what to expect, and found himself in a fully decked out reception area. A table sat in the middle with six chairs around it. The walls were covered in weapons—plasma blasters, energy shields, a ray gun, and even swords. Ammo crates lined the far wall with a couple of old-school rifles in a rifle-rack, and a large bulldog seemed to be sleeping at one of the six doors leading off from the room, not counting the one he’d just come through.

  “Damn,” he said, under his breath. But it was enough to cause the dog’s ears to perk up.