by K. D. Mattis
“What are you waiting for?”
He heard the voice plain as day, but Gibbs thought he imagined it until the same question came again.
“What are you waiting for, Commander?” A man in the cage stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around the chain. “Let us out.”
The commander jumped back, tripped over his own feet, and fell into the fence behind him. He looked deep into the man’s sunken eyes for some sign that he was hallucinating.
“Ah,” said the man in the cage, “another trick.” He turned back to his fellow prisoners and slumped down onto the metal floor of his makeshift cell.
“No,” Gibbs shouted, struggling to breathe. “I’m real. I promise.”
The sunken-eyed man turned in the general direction of the commander but didn’t get back up.
“Great. Mind getting me a sandwich?”
His hands pressed into the cool, metal floor, and the commander stood up, once again taking in everything around him. As adrenaline left his system, he noticed the smell and wrinkled his forehead.
The commander hurried around the room, checking for anything of value. Seeing none, he returned to the entrance.
“I’ll be back for you,” Gibbs said. “All of you. Just hold tight.”
He ran past the Symbiants in glass boxes and continued to what he assumed was the control room. Again, he examined all the servers and the alien technology, looking for some indication of what it did. Finding none, he reached for a power cable and pulled. The connected server turned off, but it didn’t change anything in the room. Again and again he pulled power cables until everything in the room went dark except for the overhead lights.
The alien boxes remained powered on. Gibbs traced out the cables running to the boxes, but they were all data cables running to the trunks down the corridor. Frustrated, he kicked the first box until a cover fell off, revealing a glowing rod on a circle. It looked like a large handle. With a deep breath, he pulled on the handle and twisted until it pulled free from the box. The lights on the machine turned off, as did a couple of the displays around the room. He repeated the process for every box until all the boxes and displays sat as quiet reminders of his technical inadequacy.
39
Lieutenant Elizabeth Card turned from the communications console. “Admiral, we’re receiving reports from the moon base. They see a large ship heading this way.”
Asher nodded and turned to a panel on the side of her chair. She entered a few commands, then pressed a button.
“All crew, this is Admiral Asher. Battle stations. This is not a drill. Report to your station commanders immediately.”
Holt and Tran worked at their stations, checking the status of various weapons systems throughout the Explorer.
“Drone are prepped for launch. All other systems ready, Admiral,” Holt said without looking up.
With the order from the admiral, Ensign Gonzales pulled back on a lever to shoot the Explorer off in the direction of the signal. The metal of the ship creaked as the engines at the back pushed them ever faster into space.
A team of five people in a small alcove at the back of the bridge worked diligently, their eyes never wavering from the flickering screens that fed them a constant stream of information. Occasionally, one of them shouted back to their commanding officer, Ensign Daly, with something of interest.
“Still no visual on the ship,” Daly said, “but we see a change in background radiation. It could be an anomaly, or it could be the ship.”
Asher nodded. “Card, contact the rest of the fleet. Have them converge on our location.” Turning to the front screens, she added, “Nothing gets past us today. Ambassador Station hasn’t completed their security sweep, so we can’t count on their help. Let’s take care of business.”
On the front screen, an alien craft appeared, still too small to be seen clearly, even with the improved lenses. Another view showed radiation shooting from the back of the ship and surrounding it in a sort of halo.
“There it is,” Daly said. “Sir, this thing is massive. It looks like a class four.”
Holt ran his fingers across his station. “Understood. Are we assuming it’s a carrier for class two vessels?”
Daly nodded and turned back to his team. “Not released yet, but I’d expect it.”
“Copy that. Preparing targeting systems for the smaller vessels.”
Gonzalez focused on the data coming from her station. She pulled back on the lever to allow the other ships a chance to catch up and fall in line with the formation. When the enemy ship moved relative to the Explorer’s position, she masterfully executed the commands to move the vessel right back in the enemy ship’s path.
“Holt, dispatch the drones,” Asher said.
A pylon lifted at the top of the ship, and six small drones, each carrying a payload of missiles, launched away from the Explorer.
“Drones away, sir,” Holt said.
For several tense minutes, the Explorer held its position. The rest of the fleet gathered around it, circling it like hornets around a nest.
Eight points of light grew bright on the hull of the enemy ship. It continued moving forward, unfazed by the line of Earth Defense Initiative ships in front of it.
“Have the drones target the bay doors,” Asher said. “All ships, fire at the weapons systems. Holt, send the assigned targets to each of our ships.”
The drones split into two groups of three. As the tiny vessels turned past the alien ship, they disengaged their main thrusters and swiveled in place before firing all their missiles at once. The missiles ripped into the side of the alien ship at the programmed target and lit up space. The alien ship continued with scars of molten metal as the only sign of an attack.
The fleet of Guardian class ships released a volley of missiles and railgun fire into the weapons ports of the alien vessel. The missiles screamed silently toward their targets and bit right in, extinguishing the light.
Asher shook her head in disbelief. “Something’s not right. They’re not even trying to avoid us.”
Turning to Holt and Tran, she said, “Crash the drones into their engines. See if that gets a response.”
All six drones gathered back together under the guide of the Explorer’s tactical team. Locked on their course, they engaged their thrusters at maximum speed and crashed into the back of the ship. More explosions ensued, but it still bore no impact on the enemy ship.
The alien ship continued moving forward at high speed.
“Fire everything. Gonzales, get us out of the way.”
A stream of weapons released from the Explorer. A series of missiles, railgun fire, and torpedoes tore chunks out of the ship. The combined force of the rest of the fleet led to the hull’s quick erosion. When it broke, the hull breach served as a harbinger to the ship’s demise, as a large chunk of the starboard side broke off and drifted away from the rest of the ship.
The alien ship flew by the EDI fleet with only a few dozen meters of clearance. The broken-off section allowed enough of a gap for a small class two vessel to tear out. Its forward prongs lit up in a brilliant light and tore into the hull of the closest Guardian class ship. The light melted some of the small ship’s hull, but didn’t break through, a testament to the improved armor plating.
“Card, have Commander Cole take out that ship. The rest of the fleet is to follow the larger vessel. Take it down.”
Lieutenant Card nodded and hunkered down at her communications console. Behind her, Ensign Daly and his team looked for answers as to the alien ship’s target. They couldn’t find anything on sensors, but the ship moved directly toward Earth, ignoring all damage.
“Gonzales, get us in front of that ship!” Asher shouted.
With another push of the lever, the Explorer and its companions moved as fast as their engines would allow. As it moved, the tactical teams kept up the unending stream of weapons fire.
“Sir,” Holt said. He wiped the sweat sticking to his head. “Their ship won’t last, b
ut they’re not maneuvering. I don’t understand.”
“Keep it up,” Asher said. “Reduce it to dust.”
A few more key hits from the torpedoes ripped the back end of the larger craft off and broke it into hundreds of pieces.
“There,” Daly said, pointing to an image he projected on the main screen. “That port just activated. I have no idea what it is.”
A single shaft detached from the port side of the vessel. As it cleared its enclosure, an engine sent it flying toward Earth.
“What is that? We don’t have anything that fast,” Asher said. Her face twisted in horror.
The device entered the atmosphere, and the smaller alien vessel broke off its assault. It turned away from the fleet only to be caught by a barrage of fire from the Guardian and erupting in an explosion.
Another volley of fire destroyed the remnants of the larger alien craft, but nothing could stop the shaft on its path to the planet.
“What the hell is that?” Asher asked.
40
“Stay with me, buddy,” Gibbs said, patting his friend on the calf.
Every step burned deep in his legs, but the commander didn’t stop moving. His friend hung limply over his shoulders, providing a constant burden and constant motivation to move.
Harris groaned when Gibbs stumbled over a rock. The commander paused, hoisted his friend up in the air a bit, and readjusted before taking off in as close to a sprint as he could manage.
He groaned as he passed through the projected image of the woods, but when he made it past the barrier, he didn’t experience the distorted images he expected. He turned around for a moment, continuing to move, and saw that the image was gone.
“Good,” Gibbs said. “Now no one will believe me. Just great.”
Ahead, at the dilapidated train station, Gibbs eyed a bench out front. The weather had worn the wood down to a dusty gray color and gave the iron frame a tint of rust. Otherwise, it looked perfectly serviceable. He kept running, bolstered by the thought of a break, and hurried up the embankment.
His muscles screamed for release, but Gibbs held his breath and closed his eyes to focus on lowering his friend down gently. Once he did, he moved his hands up and down the man’s body in an effort to make him as comfortable as possible while ensuring that he remained upright.
He took a large crate from the back of his truck. His hands fumbled with the key, and he dropped it on the ground twice. When he finally managed to open the crate, he laid his head on its edge and laughed. Inside was every bit of gear he could have hoped to need in the facility. A proper rifle, flash-bang grenades, body armor, a med kit, and a variety of scanning equipment.
With the med kit in hand, he placed his phone up to his ear and called his home base. No one answered, so he paused and tried again. Still no answer.
“You know, this is all your fault,” Gibbs said to his patient. He opened the med kit and looked for the best option. He eyed the pills, the surgical tools, and the bandages. He closed it a moment later without removing anything. “What’s wrong with you, buddy? What can I do.”
A trail of drool ran down the former pilot’s chin. He gurgled when his head rolled back and struck the brick wall behind him.
“Crud. Sorry about that.”
Gibbs pressed the man’s head forward with a soft touch. After a pause and a sweeping glance in all directions, he pressed his sleeve up to the man’s lips to dry the drool.
“Can’t have you looking like a mess.”
For a third time, Gibbs pulled out his phone. He ran through the address book hoping to see someone who may be able to help. He pumped his legs up and down to shake out the lactic acid that had built up in his muscles. It didn’t work, but it made him feel better than sitting still, so he kept doing it.
At last, he decided to call Central Command. Again, he couldn’t get through. He inspected his phone to verify the signal. Satisfied that wasn’t the problem, he slid it back into his pocket and continued to pump his legs up and down.
Finally, he jumped up and paced in front of the bench. It didn’t feel right, but it felt better than sitting still. The pacing turned to jumping, and his eyes darted every direction.
Up above, far beyond the clouds, he saw a speck. Barely perceptible and barely moving, it grabbed his attention more than any birds or planes in the sky. In an instant, the glowing speck streaked down. He didn’t know what it was, but instinctively knew it was coming to their location. Pure heat filled his head and ran down his spine. His legs felt like bricks and wouldn’t respond fast enough as he ordered them to move. They debated with him on whether to run for cover or run for his friend. He overcame his instincts and grabbed his friend by the shoulders.
Terror and adrenaline mixed, giving the commander incredible strength. With Harris in his arms, he jumped off the platform toward the bottom of the embankment on the side away from the facility. He hit the ground hard and grunted as the air squeezed out of his lungs. Scrambling over his friend, he covered the man’s head and neck with his body, covering his own head and neck with his hands.
The device drove deep into the ground, right through to the facility. It reached its target and exploded deep underground. The earth rumbled and dropped out from beneath the two men, and they tumbled down with it. A drop of only ten feet felt like an eternity. Gibbs screamed in terror and anger but never heard his own voice.
Gibbs woke with a start, grasping desperately at everything around him until his hands wrapped around cold steel rails. As his vision cleared, he saw white walls and two people standing around him.
“What happened?” he asked.
The words escaped his mouth, but they sounded hollow when they reached his ears. He squinted, turned his head to the side, and manipulated his jaw to pop his ears.
A firm hand pushed his head back onto a pillow.
“Take it easy.”
The voice came as firm and kind as the hand.
“Doctor?” Gibbs asked.
The doctor nodded and swung the tablet hanging from his shoulder into his hands and jotted down a few notes.
Gibbs forcibly blinked again and looked to the window. He squinted at the bright light.
Asher stepped over and twisted a rod to close the blinds. She didn’t even turn around before she started talking.
“Commander, it seems you completed your mission. We haven’t seen any Symbiant activity since that building was destroyed. It was important enough for the Culdarians to sacrifice a ship to destroy it. What was in there?”
“Harris—” Gibbs began.
“Is fine. He’s conscious and has even started physical therapy for his back. He’s healing remarkably well, considering.”
Gibbs looked down at his legs and tried to move them. Nothing happened.
“Am I—?”
“The doctor says the paralysis is temporary. A result of swelling in your spine. You’ve been in a coma for a few days. The doctor didn’t want to wake you, but we need answers.” Asher stopped and looked the commander closely in the eyes before placing a kind hand on his shoulder. “Commander, what can you tell us?”
Gibbs shook his head and laid it back down on the pillow, shooting an insecure look at the doctor. “There were people down there. Dozens of them, locked up in cages. A few of the aliens—”
“Did you get a good look at them?” Asher interrupted.
“No.”
Frowning, Asher prompted him to continue.
“It looked like a farm of some kind. The Symbiants were there without hosts. Hundreds of them just lined up in cages.”
Clearing her throat, Asher interrupted again. “That’s what they wanted to destroy it. It has to be.”
Gibbs stared up at her with a puzzled look.
She sighed, considering her words carefully. “Whatever the Symbiants are, they can be controlled at great distances and in ways that completely take over the host. Used the way the Culdarians have, that’s a dangerous weapon.”
“But in t
he right hands—”
“Exactly. Look at Harris. His injuries were far worse than yours. He had ruptured eardrums, swelling in the brain, and a severed spinal column.”
His eyes grew wide. “You said he was fine.”
“He is, I promise.” Asher patted his shoulder once again and looked over at the doctor.
“He needs his rest, Admiral.”
The doctor returned to the charts on his tablet but walked up behind the admiral to serve as a friendly reminder.
“We think it has to do with the Symbiant, whatever it is,” Asher said. “Harris told us he heard it talking to him and that it showed him things. We don’t know the full extent of the relationship, but it seems to be healing him.”
The doctor cleared his throat. Asher shot him a glance, reconsidered, and apologized, ensuring the doctor she was almost done.
“Gibbs,” Asher said in a softer tone, “get to feeling better, but do it quick. We have business to attend to.”
Coming Soon from K. D. Mattis
Space Corps Retribution
Chapter 1
Artificial sunlight poured through a set of cheap, vinyl blinds, lighting up the room. No matter how many times he turned and adjusted his body, a distinct pressure emanated from his bladder that he simply couldn’t ignore. Ryan Gibbs pressed a button beside the bed and waited for the tonal beep.
“Yes, Commander?” said a distorted voice through the speaker.
Gibbs groaned as he pushed against the bed and forced himself into a sitting position. Doing so increased the pressure on his bladder, so he surrendered to gravity and fell back heavily onto his pillow.
“I need to use the restroom.”
“Right away, sir.”
Moments later, a woman in a light blue uniform hurried in with a wheelchair, clipboard under her arm. The wheels rolled smoothly, except for the one on the front right, which wobbled and squeaked incessantly. The commander winced at the noise, turned to the window, and winced at the light.
