Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles)

by James Jackson

  The four men run. The pair at the entrance of the cave is only alive thanks to the amazing sentry gun. Paul and Chokichi have been taking turns reloading the weapon, its barrel now glowing red. They are surprised to see Peter sprint, then reach into his pocket. He takes out the leather wallet, presses the central emblem, then almost screams, “Petrovich. Abort strike, I say again, Petrovich, ABORT STRIKE!”

  The six men quickly assess the dire situation. The entrance to the cave already has amassed a mountain of bodies, but they cannot hold it for much longer. The sentry gun is down to its last box of ammunition, and to top that off, all the Claymores at the entrance of the cave have done their job.

  Peter looks to the others, and with resolute determination, states the obvious, “We have to get to the other cave before those bastards escape.”

  Almost as if by magic, or some divine force, the second Peter points toward the other cave, there is an explosion in the valley, accompanied by a flaming fire ball that shoots skyward. The men quickly scan for the source of the blast, Hayato cheers and points when he spots their salvation.

  High up in the sky, is the shuttle that transported them to the area, its ramp is wide open. Balanced upon this side ramp is a single large barrel. The shuttle moves in lower over the valley, then suddenly banks to one side, literally tipping the barrel off the ramp. It falls to the ground, where it explodes amongst a mass of troops. Chokichi lifts up his sniper rifle to get a better view, then smiles when he gets a fleeting view of the inside of the shuttle.

  Chokichi lowers his rifle, and while grinning says, “It looks like the shuttle has a bunch of barrels strapped to the inside. I saw two men moving one onto the ramp, just the distraction we need.”

  Radclyf does not hesitate, “Let’s load up and roll.”

  Paul stares through the cracked windshield of the Tiger at the pile of corpses in his way. While he starts the battered vehicle, Chokichi remotely shuts off the sentry gun. Seconds later, they roar out of the cave, hapless bodies are either crushed or tossed aside. The vehicle’s shredded tires leave chunks of rubber behind as they try to find purchase on the desert road.

  Entering bedlam once more, Paul dodges potholes, incoming rockets, and as much of the small arms fire as he can. The ride is bumpy and rough, made more so by the deflated tires. The steady sound of bullets pinging off the vehicle’s armor gives testimony to the nonstop barrage directed their way. In the sky, the shuttle continues to circle, sporadically dropping fresh barrels of death into the valley.

  Chokichi smiles when he spots a group of men heading into the cave they just exited. Pressing a button on the remote in his hand, he nods in appreciation as the sentry gun instantly opens up. It expends the last of its ammunition on those foolish enough to be in the way. He closes the small sniper hole, then presses another of the remote’s buttons.

  BOOM!

  A massive gout of flame vomits out of the cave, incinerating everything in its path. A dull thump is felt through the floor of the Tiger as the cave collapses in on itself. A dust plume billows out from the crumbling cave entrance, followed almost immediately by a landslide as the side of the mountain gives way.

  Paul grabs his helmet and slams the visor down over his eyes. The windshield before him is nothing more than a shattered mess, and yet it still repels a near constant hail of bullets. He shouts out over the ever-growing noise, “We’re half way there, but I don’t think we’re going to make it.”

  John glances down at the armored vehicle below and cringes, the damn thing is practically running on its rims, and has more holes in it than a chunk of Swiss cheese. Glancing back at the rear section he hollers, “How many barrels do we have left?”

  One of the Russian soldiers responds in halting English, “Seven barrels left.”

  John glances down once more, then responds, “Put them all on the ramp, then hold on.” Gaining altitude, he moves out of the range of those firing from below.

  Paul does his best to push the Tiger, but even redlining the engine fails to increase their speed. Suddenly they are lifted into the air, the landmine performing its task flawlessly. The front right side of the vehicle lifts up first, quickly followed by the other wheels. For a split second, the Tiger seems to dance on its left rear wheel, before it too, lifts off the ground. The armored car lands heavily on its side, then rolls over onto its roof and slides along the rocky ground amid a cloud of dust. A missile slams into, then through, the windshield, unleashing its full fury on the driver’s seat, an empty driver’s seat. Shrapnel sprays out in all directions.

  John swoops the momentarily ignored shuttle downward, then rolls it over onto its side, tipping the seven remaining barrels out, and into the sky. They fall haphazardly, each impacting with the ground in fiery plumes, effectively creating a wall of fire between the flipped vehicle and the mass of terrorists. He levels the shuttle out, and heads for his friends.

  The rear hatch of the battered Tiger pops open, six dazed and bloodied men tumble out. Crouching, they quickly form a ring. Each has a weapon raised, pointing outward. They await a rush of attackers. Through the smoke and dust, Hayato notices the shuttle coming in to land. Tapping the man on his right, he runs to the open ramp. The others follow behind quickly.

  Less than a minute later, they are in the air gazing downward at their surrounded vehicle. Peter, his hands cut and bleeding, takes out his Red Star once more. Before he can touch it John says something that stops them all, “If you want to take care of these bastards personally, I saw something that just may do the job.”

  Peter puts the wallet away, and says, “The more personal the better.”

  Three minutes later, and quite a distance away from the battle scene, John lands the shuttle on a small plateau. Henry has had just enough time to bandage a few of their cuts and scrapes. Some of them will require further medical attention, but for now they are patched up as best as he can.

  Stepping out of the shuttle, Radclyf and the others smile. There, resting before them, is an old 170mm self-propelled gun.

  Peter gives them an unnecessary history lesson as he examines the abandoned weapon. “Iran imported a few of these from North Korea many years ago. He adds with surprise, “It looks to be operational.”

  None of them mind the irony of using one old adversary’s equipment to defeat another. Paul sits in the driver’s seat, and in short order, has the old engine running. Taking care not to damage the tracks, he turns the massive gun around until it faces the cave they were trying to get to.

  Radclyf wipes fresh blood from a cut on his forehead, “This gun was positioned to be able to fire over this hill, and yet be protected from retaliatory artillery rounds.”

  Peter interrupts them all with an unexpected exclamation, “There are only four rounds left on this thing!”

  Chokichi puts down his sniper rifle, then says with glee, “It looks like no one saw us land here,” he points back toward the valley, “They’re not heading this way, but they do look like they’re moving house.”

  The first 170mm round streaks out with a deafening boom. The shell strikes the valley floor, far away from the cave entrance. Like frantic ants the terrorists scatter, then begin moving toward the group. Five minutes later, the second shell smashes the cliff face just above, and to the side of the cave, causing an avalanche of rocks to roll down the steep incline. A convoy of vehicles approaches their position, keeping Chokichi very busy as he dispatches one driver after another. This only slows the terrorists down, such is their determination.

  The third round takes another five minutes to ready. It fires, and streaks toward the cave entrance. A rattle of a heavy machine gun begins, then ends abruptly, the operator falling victim to a well aimed shot. Chokichi reloads his rifle, then sets his sights on the next target. Radclyf has his eyes glued to a pair of binoculars. He gets a fleeting glance of the shell entering the cave mouth. Oh yes baby! Seconds later, the mountain shudders from the detonation somewhere inside.

  The convoy of terrorist
s is almost in range when the fourth and final shell is fired at the partially demolished cave. Occasionally, bullets ricocheted off nearby rocks, but with their haven destroyed, the terrorists suddenly seem more interested in avoiding death, rather than dishing it out.

  The last shell smashes into the remnants of the cave’s entrance just as an armored truck bursts out from the collapsing tunnel. The truck is impacted by the full force of the shell and detonates spectacularly. A massive green cloud instantly rises up from its cargo area.

  Hayato stares at the cloud in alarm, “Let’s get the hell out of here, NOW!”

  The green gas quickly expands out in all directions, causing all that it reaches to collapse to the ground. A massive thump is felt through the ground just before the shuttle lifts off. In the distance, the mountain visibly shudders, then begins to fall in on itself. A series of explosions continue to rumble from deep underground, while the ever-expanding vapor cloud claims hundreds, upon hundreds of lives.

  Peter blinks in surprise, though bloodied and bruised, they’re all alive. How we all survived that, when three of our team died on a spaceship, is beyond me. Fortunes of war, he muses to himself philosophically.

  Henry moves amongst the men once more, bandaging numerous small cuts and even a bullet graze across Radclyf’s forehead. Paul has a piece of shrapnel embedded in his thigh, the adrenaline of combat making him oblivious to it, until now.

  Landing the battered shuttle at the Khankala air base once more, John watches as his bloodied friends are transported away. He stares at the numerous holes in the shuttle’s hull, then grins as an idea comes to mind. The damn navigation system fried, and sent me right into a war zone. He chuckles to himself, I’ll probably get court-martialed, but it’s worth it.

  Chapter Four - Pursuit

  Andrew reluctantly takes his seat on the bridge of the Terran. He turns to his right and meets Joe’s equally disparaging look. Edwards walks over to what used to be John’s seat, then with a grin, sits down. Looking past Joe, Andrew’s expression saddens as he notices Peter’s old chair, which rests unoccupied. Gazing around the bridge, he feels a strange sense of emptiness as his eyes stray past the chairs that used to be occupied by Radclyf and Hayato. George’s empty workstation adds to his overall feeling of loss. Further adding to the strangeness of the situation, are the half a dozen heavily armed soldiers on the bridge.

  “Admiral on the bridge!” The soldier’s announcement is quite loud, breaking Andrew from his melancholy.

  Edwards quickly stands to attention, while Joe merely turns slowly in his chair. Joe runs his reproachful gaze up and down the man that enters. With graying hair and a poorly concealed pot belly, the old man’s frame is long past being that of a fit man. His jacket is so covered in medals, it appears ludicrous. Joe slowly shakes his head from side to side in antipathy, he is a poor replacement for Cindy. The thought comes unbidden, but not without a degree of sadness as he wonders how Cindy is fairing.

  The Admiral stares back at Joe with dull gray eyes. Noticing the reproachful gaze, he states dismissively, “You were consigned to this ship, but can leave any time you wish, civilian.” He almost spits the last word out.

  Joe sighs as he recalls the meeting where he and Andrew were pressed to stay on board. They were told that the Admiral did not want them on ‘his ship’, but in the interests of the coalition, he would tolerate their presence.

  Joe replies, “I will stay.”

  Edwards tilts his gaze down at Joe in disdain, “Admiral Harris, it is an honor to finally have a real commanding officer on board.”

  Harris nods, then waves indifferently at Joe, “Why don’t you go check the engines, or something.”

  Andrew responds before Joe can say anything, “You may as well, mate.” Sighing he adds sympathetically, “They haven’t been calibrated since we got home, have they?”

  Joe shakes his head, then grabs his laptop, and leaves the bridge. The walk to his room is a short one. Passing George’s old room causes a whimsical smile to escape his lips. He glances furtively at the sealed doorway, one he sealed. No one is getting their hands on George’s suit. His smile broadens as he recalls showing Hayes a vacant room, one which was supposedly George’s. Even Edwards was unable to assist in the search for George’s bodysuit. That fool can barely move the ship, Joe muses. He shakes his head in disapproval. Edwards has no idea how the internal panels work. Arriving at his room, Joe retrieves the engine calibration device, the three-pronged key needed to open the entry ways, and a backpack. He stops and stares at the claw in awe before putting it away. How George managed to craft a fake Gamin hand to access the engine rooms baffles me.

  Meanwhile, on the bridge, Edwards sits down proudly. His Captain’s insignia glints in a dazzling light. He looks up at the massive main viewer, his jaw drops in shock. The light is coming from another spacecraft, one that is moving away from Earth, its sub-light engines glowing brightly.

  “What the hell!” Edwards shouts out in alarm.

  The bridge speakers crackle to life, “Starship Terran, ground control here, come in.”

  Harris stares at his chair’s controls, bewildered, “How do I use this damn thing?” He commands.

  Edwards leaves his station, and shows the Admiral how to use the command chair’s smaller consoles. All the while, the other spacecraft moves farther away.

  “Admiral Harris here, I take it you’re going to tell me about this other ship?”

  The reply follows quickly, “It’s Chinese, and apparently, whoever is in command, has stolen it.”

  “Stolen a spaceship?” Harris says in surprise.

  “That’s what the Chinese Prime Minster is claiming.” The disembodied voice replies.

  Andrew stares at the other ship though the main window for a moment, and then pulls up its image on his console.

  Joe has crossed the main hangar deck, and is now at the walkway to the first engine room. Each engine occupies its own area, with separate access ways and independent controls. He uses the three-pronged tool to access one of the engine rooms, and then calibrates the first engine using the control pad that George left behind. The task only takes a few minutes. Joe simply watches as the Gamin control pad reports the ongoing status. The calibration process is displayed as a graph that fills in. Joe smiles again, as he thinks, I love the way this thing works.

  Seated in the command chair, Admiral Harris stares at the ship ahead of him. Though its size is similar to the Terran, it has some obvious design differences. Its single main engine is surrounded by multiple banks of sub-light engines, while each side of the ship has a number of long bulbous pods attached.

  Harris points ahead and orders, “Engage thrusters, maneuver to follow, then activate the sub-light engines.”

  “Yes sir,” Edwards intones, excitement fills his voice.

  The Terran slowly swings around the few degrees needed, then accelerates to catch the other spacecraft.

  The bridge speakers come to life, the voice that resounds, does so in halting English. “Stay back or face the consequences.”

  Admiral Harris scowls, then touches his chair’s console, “We’re in open space. You will not tell us where we can and can’t go,” he adds defiantly.

  The voice from the Chinese ship once again fills the bridge, “I will fire on your ship if you do not turn away.”

  Joe is unaware of these events as he casually walks from the first engine area, to the second. He is oblivious to the threats from the other spacecraft. Entering the second engine area, he activates the calibration unit, which dutifully begins its task. He stands back and watches the colors play over the ship’s second main drive while he mulls over the amazing piece of engineering. Properly calibrated, these babies get us to a speed many thousands of times the speed of light. Glancing at the graph, he can see he has plenty of time before it will be completed.

  The Terran is not as fast as the Chinese ship, which annoys Edwards, and infuriates Harris, who demands, “Catch up to that ship!�
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  Edwards looks intently at his controls, then in a moments clarity, knows what he must do.

  Andrew studies the other ship as it edges away. He frowns as his attention is drawn to movement from the ship’s flanks.

  The casing belonging to two of the large pods blows off, and floats away from the ship. A large missile exits one of these pods, then rockets toward the Terran. It is followed seconds later by another. The missiles are each powered by a sub-light engine, running at maximum thrust. They approach so swiftly that even though Andrew is watching, he is unable to comprehend what is happening fast enough to take any action.

  Edwards looks up just as his finger taps the main drive control. “We’ll catch them now,” he states smugly. He notices the incoming missiles just as the Terran lurches forward at the speed of light. What the! His eyes open wide.

  Joe is alarmed to see his calibration overridden, and the engine in front of him has engaged. He puts a hand to his mouth, momentarily stunned, I have no idea what this will do. He backs away from the engine, a little fearful, then hurries toward the closed entryway.

  The first missile strikes the front of the Terran at an astronomical velocity, its nuclear warhead, the most powerful ever conceived, detonates. Vast areas on the forward section of the ship buckle, while armor in the vicinity of the detonation is instantly vaporized. The Gamin systems cope with the detonation, however not everything on board is Gamin.

  Joe feels a slight shudder through the deck plating, which alarms him even further. In addition, he is unable to open the doorway to get out. Turning back to look at the engine, he is further perplexed to see that it is now shut down. Trapped, and I have no idea what’s going on.

  Andrew stares in shock as reports of system failures immediately begin to appear on his console. He turns to Harris and says in alarm, “GUS is down!”

  Harris frowns in confusion, “GUS? So!”

  Andrew is flabbergasted, “GUS.” He repeats, exasperation in his tone, “The Gamin Umbilical System is the computer that interfaces all of our technology to the alien consoles.”