Initiation Series: Series One Compilation (Terran Chronicles)

by James Jackson

  Edwards stares at his console in total confusion. The Gamin systems have reset, and no longer display in English. He quickly figures out that not only did the main drive disengage, the panel now displays thruster and sub-light engine controls only.

  Andrew hollers at Edwards, “Close the bridge armor!”

  Edwards looks at Andrew, “What?” He glances at his console in confusion once more, suddenly aware of how alien it really is without the translations. “I’m busy, you do it,” he says, reaching for his control panel.

  Andrew notices what Edwards is about to do and shouts. “NO! The RMC is down.”

  But he is too late.

  Edwards taps his console at the exact same instant the second missile strikes the bridge area. The sub-light engines disengage immediately, decelerating the ship almost instantly. With the Relativistic Mass Compensator, offline, internal gravity controls are virtually nonexistent.

  Harris is hurled at great speed from his chair, his back arching as he flies through the air. The guards around the room are thrown violently forward, or to the floor, where they tumble over. Edwards and Andrew are slammed bone jarringly into their consoles. Andrew hits his forehead, dazing him. While Harris is still airborne, screaming in terror, the kinetic energies of the blast travel through the ship. The bulk of this force travels to the inside of the bridge, shattering the ship’s main display in an instant. Millions upon millions of tiny shards explode inward, shredding the still screaming Harris. Edwards grimaces in pain, desperately trying to breathe through his crushed chest. He glances up just in time to see his impending death. The top half of his body vanishes from the onslaught of deadly projectiles. Even as the wash of blood from Harris splashes across the room, the shards continue to perform their gruesome duty. The unprotected guards arrayed around fare no better than Harris. They add their bloody remains to the carnage as they too, are shredded by the volley of projectiles. Andrew, heavily stunned, is only aware of his impending death for a split second. It is mercifully quick, and for him, painless.

  The Terran’s powerful superstructure groans in protest, water pipes rupture, some of the nuclear reactors scram, while throughout the ship, deck plate’s buckle. Internal gravity fluctuates, then reestablishes itself, adding to the chaos.

  Emma is one of the lucky ones, she is hurled into her fresh hydroponics racks. Rather than coming to a sudden stop, she is slowed by the plants and their flexible fixtures. Laying there, bruised but alive, she looks up as water pours from fractured water pipes.

  The kitchen hands, however, are not so lucky. Cooks are thrown into cupboards, pots and pans hurtle like deadly projectiles around the room, making the knives seem relatively safe. Seconds after the impact, the area is devoid of life, blood drips from the walls, and sizzles on hot cook tops.

  Joe is flung into the doorway, and then crumples to the floor in agony. Gasping for breath he picks himself up from the floor, then clutches his left shoulder. He moves it carefully, not broken, not dislocated, but damn it hurts. Satisfied that he is okay, he makes his way to the controls, where he quickly reviews the ship’s systems.

  Tapping the internal communications icon, Joe contacts the bridge, “Andrew mate, what’s going on?”

  While Joe waits for a reply, he pulls up the ship’s schematics, and begins to examine them carefully. A familiar symbol sends a chill through his body. The Gamin symbol for an inhospitable environment rests over the bridge area. Oh no!

  Joe stabs at the communications symbol again, and says in distress, “Bridge, come in!” C’mon Andrew mate.

  Silence is his only reply. A sense of emptiness overcomes him as he reviews more system reports, they’re all gone, just like that... gone.

  With tears welling in his eyes, Joe taps the console once more, “Reactor control, come in.”

  A voice quickly responds, sounding quite alarmed, “Reactor control here. We’re pretty messed up, but no radiation leaks. What the blazes is going on?”

  Joe sighs, “I have no idea,” he stifles a sob, and continues. “The bridge crew,” he pauses to gather strength, “they’re all dead.” Andrew!

  The reply from reactor control is slow in coming and spoken solemnly, “Understood.”

  Joe’s mind races, yet fails to stay focused, Andrew, my old mate. We worked together on so many projects back in Australia. He gazes around the engine room wistfully, then we joined the crew of this ship, and what a trek that was. Walking on strange new worlds, meeting alien races. He nods his head and manages a slight smile, how many astronomers get to do that? Your dreams came true my old friend. Farewell.

  Consequences

  Joe stares at the engine room console and sighs. The ship’s systems have sealed many areas completely off, including the two engine rooms, therefore he is trapped. He has little choice but to control the ship from where he is. The small view screen embedded into the panel is a poor substitute for the one on the bridge.

  With crossed fingers, Joe activates the ship’s thrusters, then slowly turns the ship around to head back toward Space Station Unity. Only when he is one hundred percent sure that everything is functioning normally, does he engage the sub-light engines. Even then, he only runs them at their lowest setting, meaning that the return trip will take them several hours.

  The Terran limps home, thin wisps of gasses vent into space as fresh sections of armor flake off. The ship’s systems automatically, and methodically, seal off these new hull breaches one by one. The forward section of the ship is buckled and dented and even missing a portion of its nose area. Some of the armor plates are peeled right back, revealing internal decks closed off by the ship’s containment system. The bridge area, having taken a direct hit, is heavily damaged. Where the armor has not been vaporized completely, it is dented and charred.

  Inside the ship, things are far from better. Many of the ship’s crew are dead or seriously injured. Only a lucky few survived the attack unscathed. Some, like Emma, were fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time. Survivors rally to the mess hall, where a temporary triage has been set up. The medical staff is few and far between. The Terran was not scheduled to go anywhere soon, thus they are ill equipped and unprepared. The ship’s freezers quickly fill with bodies of the dead, those that can be moved, anyway. Throughout the ship, many lay where they died, grotesquely mangled, or worse. The only saving grace is that most of the ship’s crew had yet to board.

  Those at the space station stare in awe through their small portholes, as the beaten Terran slowly enters. A chill runs down the spine of the station’s commander, while others are simply numbed by what they see. The fact that the ship is able to return at all, amazes all who see the carnage.

  Once docked, Joe shuts down all propulsion systems. He then gets to work unsealing the closed off areas with atmosphere still beyond them. It does not take him long, once he finds the lockouts and releases them. Though battered, the ship itself looks worse than it really is. Joe stares at the list of damaged components and ship sections, then sighs once more, we have had worse, almost anyway, either way, a few panels, and she’ll be alright. With that though, Joe packs his laptop, the access key, and the calibration device into his backpack. Patting the console gently, he says to himself, “Goodbye Terran. I am done! Nothing could make me come back here again.”

  Location:

  Outback

  Western Australia

  The very next day finds most of the base staff in attendance of a hastily organized mass-funeral service for those that died on the Terran. The service is short, and conducted so swiftly that only a few of the old bridge crew gets a chance to attend. Joe stands with Emma as Andrew’s representatives.

  After the funeral service is over, Joe turns to Emma, “So, what are you going to do now?”

  Emma sighs deeply, “Well, I am not going back to that ship... that death ship,” she says, bursting into tears.

  Joe steps close to her, and tries to console her, but she pushes him away. Sobbing, she looks
into his eyes, then adds, “It’s not just that. I thought Peter and I had something, and now he has… just disappeared.”

  Joe turns his gaze downward, feeling momentarily awkward, “Yeah, Cindy is the only person I have been able to contact. George, Patrick, heck, everyone else has just vanished.”

  Off in the distance, General Walker observes the proceedings, his jaw tense. Turning to his civilian superior, his voice is filled with anger, “You want me to get George and Patrick back here, to fix the ship.” He glares at the tall, slender Senator, adding, “After we packed them off. And then, to top it off, denied their right to attend this funeral.”

  The Senator responds calmly, “Now, now. None of their friends were denied anything.”

  The General feels a muscle tick in his neck as he restrains himself, “We didn’t even tell them we were having the service!”

  The Senator lifts his eyebrows in a well-practiced move. “See! We have an understanding.”

  General Walker gazes around his room once more, holding back a fury that only a man who has lost people in combat could understand. He looks the Senator in the eye, then states firmly, “I won’t do it. You can do your own dirty work, for once.”

  The Senator nods his head passively, then smiles, “Your new orders will arrive soon. Goodbye General.”

  The Senator stoops as he leaves the room, his head barely missing the door frame. Walker stares at the man’s back, seething in anger at the heartlessness, damn, too bad his head missed!

  The next few days are a blur as Joe and Emma, along with the other survivors, are almost grilled in their debriefing of the attack. General Walker is noticeably missing from the series of interviews. The official review finds that when GUS failed, it started a cascade effect throughout the Gamin systems. Joe does not dispute the findings, even though he knows in his heart, that something else must have caused the Gamin systems to reset. Perhaps they reset due to the main drive calibration being interrupted?

  Unable to locate General Walker, Joe leaves his backpack with the Terran’s calibration device, and the access claw outside the General’s office. He leaves the facility on one of the many planes that come and go, without telling anyone where he is going.

  Emma also leaves the Outback base. She plans on taking a break from her work, and doing some exploring of her own. Her itinerary includes some of the most beautiful places on Earth, and coincidently, the most remote.

  The tight knit team from the Terran has all gone their own ways. None plan, or expect, to be boarding the ship ever again.

  Location:

  Kangbashi District

  China

  Wu stands on Jie’s old balcony and stares out numbly across the abandoned city. He is stunned as he realizes the enormity of what Jie has done. Almost every building is gone; massive concrete holes are all that remain where they once rested. KANG, their supercomputer remains, along with the series of buildings that manufacture the gravity plating. He gulps as he notices scraps of paper swirling in the vacant courtyard below him. Jie took everyone, and almost everything.

  Wu gazes off at the deserted residential sector, the outlying farmland, and the military barracks. How did he take it all? Wu stares, bewildered at the site. This is even grander than what I had planned. Well played Jie.

  With little to do, except to blame Jie for everything, Wu gives orders for what is left to be categorized. Sitting in Jie’s old chair, he wonders what he will do next. Tapping the desk with his fingers, he slowly comes up with a new plan.

  By the end of the day, Wu receives some great news, the main drive manufacturing plant is still here! He reads the list of things and finds another pleasant surprise. The sub-light engine plant and the ship’s thruster manufacturing facility also remain. Wu smiles as he realizes that Jie did not have room on his ship for everything after all. We have the core of what we need to make another ship. Jie did take the power plant manufacturing facility, but that is no loss, we have another one of those, right alongside the secondary gravity plating center.

  Wu makes plans to visit these facilities, and to rebuild this city. But this time, under his direct supervision. There will be a Wu dynasty on another planet. I have been taught a valuable lesson in underestimating those below me. With these thoughts in mind, he prepares a report for his father, the President.

  During this time, tensions are high around the world. China continues to deny having any involvement in the attack, and yet cannot ignore the fact that it was their ship and crew. Finally, the Chinese Parliament relents, allowing reporters to visit Kangbashi, as proof of their being hoodwinked.

  Robert McKnight, once again, finds himself reporting events directly to the United States Presidential committee. He travels to Kangbashi, the Australian construction dock, and then even gets a shuttle tour of the damage to the Terran. A rather filtered version of his findings makes its way to the masses.

  Hatred toward the Chinese diminishes, instead, it is directed toward Jie. The world breathes a collective sigh of relief as the threat of a major war is averted. China’s shielded tanks withdraw from their borders, while the obsolete navies belonging to many nations, sail home. Peace has come at a price though, as it usually does. Trade concessions and lifted tariffs all work in favor of China.

  Location:

  Starship Terran

  Space Station Unity

  Earth orbit

  The coalition throws every resource it has into repairing the Terran, while simultaneously preparing the Liberty for launch. Numerous shortcuts are taken, in their efforts to make the Liberty space ready.

  A new Admiral steps onto the bridge of the Terran. The thirty-five year air-force veteran stands with his hands on his hips. He is as tall and fit looking as the soldiers around him, and they are at least twenty years his junior.

  “Admiral on the bridge,” announces one of the soldiers as soon as he notices the new visitor.

  The Admiral scans the room with cold, calculating, grey eyes, “At ease soldier,” he replies without even glancing at the man.

  Dozens of people fill the room. Four soldiers stand alert with weapons ready, watching. A handful of computer technicians, along with welders, and other maintenance men, are still working to repair the shattered view screen. Observing people getting in each other’s way, the Admiral issues his orders with a stern voice, “Cease all work. Guards leave the room.” Getting everyone’s attention, he stares at the motley crew before him, “Who’s in charge?”

  Two men step forward. One wears a collared shirt, the other wears overalls. They look at each other, hesitating.

  The Admiral points to the man in overalls, “I am Admiral Spenser, explain to me what you’re doing.”

  The man wipes his hands on his pant-legs, then responds, “Kevin, here,” he says with a thin smile. He continues on quickly, “We have figured out how to repair the outer hull’s sensors, and have crews in spacesuits working on it right now.” He glances at his collared counterpart, who offers him a supportive smile, then takes over from him.

  “I am senior technician Jeff. You see Admiral, these,” he motions to the wall behind him, “are not really windows at all. The outer hull is made up of billions of sensors that receive data from many spectrums of light and energy, while the inside is actually a pretty ordinary screen, technically speaking.”

  The Admiral nods, “Go on.”

  Jeff gets a little excited, as he always does when working with Gamin technology. He continues on enthusiastically, “Well, not only are the outer hull sensors, data receivers, they are also double as very advanced solar collectors. Thus, even with the ship being unpowered, we can view through the screen to see what’s outside. To the casual observer, it would look just like a window.”

  The Admiral nods once more, motioning for Jeff to continue.

  Jeff’s voice picks up its pace as he adds, “The armor plating between the external sensors and this screen is layered with specialized data transfer pathways, and thus, is not as strong as the
rest of the ship. That could be why there is an external armored wall that can be raised to protect the sensors.”

  Spenser frowns, then questions, “Wouldn’t that make the ship blind?”

  Jeff responds even more excitedly, “No, no. We are learning that the ship’s outer hull is riddled with these sensors, just not as many as here on the bridge. The problems we are having are with the Gamin computer interface. We can’t replicate the Gamin computer technology.”

  Spenser takes a deep breath as he listens intently, “Please continue.”

  “Well…” says Jeff hesitantly, “we need to reconnect one or more of these Gamin modules to the screen, but we don’t know which one.” Jeff points to three terminals before him, “The one on the left is an interface to one system, the one in the middle another. But this last one,” he frowns in confusion, then adds while pointing to it, “it looks like it was disconnected on purpose, before the missiles hit the ship.”

  Spenser nods, then says, “So you’re telling me that once you’ve replaced the damaged sensors and the interior screen, you have to connect these Gamin consoles in order to determine what they do?”

  Jeff nods, “Correct. Plus, we hope they’re not damaged.”

  Spenser glances around the seemingly complete room, “So when can you hook them up?”

  Jeff looks at the man in overalls, who shrugs his shoulders then replies, “Couple of days.”

  The Admiral measures the two men, and can find no fault with the work or their efforts, “Very well. If there is anything that would expedite this repair, do it.”

  Spenser begins to tour his new ship, flanked by four well armed guards. He walks straight past George’s old room, oblivious to its existence. Inside the room, away from prying eyes, George’s bodysuit rests against a wall. Though it is disconnected from the power grid, it has two fully charged power modules attached. As if psychic, Spenser ponders what happened to the missing suit. Probably fetched a decent price on the black market to some country. But how did it get off the ship?